Episode 1: Ghosts in the Machine [Prologue]

[tomcat]

Stonn stepped out into the sunshine of the plaza. He had been inside this Starfleet administration building since their return to Earth two weeks prior, but now he was done. He had not been alone. The entire officer corps of the Columbia had been summoned to the San Francisco Starfleet Headquarters to be de-briefed.

The U.S.S. Columbia had spent the better part of the last year on a secret mission to the Wedge - the area of space between Romulan and Klingon space. The ship had been afixed with special equipment to aid it in its mission by reducing its profile making it stealthy. It also had had an extremely powerful sensor suite that gave it the ability to tranist in almost absolute silence without loosing its eyes and ears.

All that was history now, as the ship had limped back to Federation space after an incursion into Klingon space in an attempt to stop a Klingon coup d'etat and a potential re-initiation of the Federation/Klingon conflict. They had been successful. The crew had stopped a Romulan vessel that had been built to look like a Federation Constitution-class vessel and was to make attacks within Klingon space, thus implicating the Federation. Fortunately the Columbia had also saved a Klingon captain named Vrang of the Bor-Klah and a few of his officers.

Upon their arrival home, and after their debrief, things had gotten strange. Stonn remembered how the Klingons were ushered away in silence and literally had disappeared. No one knew of them being on Earth - only those diplomats from Qo'nos were spoken of and they were currently in fierce debate with the Starfleet Council regarding Captain James T. Kirk. Stonn knew the legend of the captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise and he and his crew's great successes. It seemed to the Vulcan that the small eruption of fighting along the Klingon Neutral Zone was completely forgotten about here on Earth, and the Klingon's were ranting on about a new deadly weapon developed by the Federation. It all seemed illogical.

Stonn's second eyelids, a trait of his Vulcan heritage, aided in reducing the glare from the bright sunlight in the plaza. He watched as Jess and Grahm passed him with a quiet nod. A few moments later came the Trill, Tam; chief medical officer of the Columbia. They all were somewhat puzzled by how everything had turned out.

Captain Steven Darkan and his crew were given commendations in thier efforts to quell the potential Klingon civil war. Then of a sudden, word came to them all that a tribunal had been commissioned to investigate the Columbia's breaking of Federation/Klingon law by crossing the Neutral Zone. All of the officers were called back to San Francisco and were once more debriefed, or perhaps it was interrogated. It was then, before the tribunal, that Darkan requested that his officers be released from any further investigation. He was taking full responsibility for the actions of the U.S.S. Columbia and no officer below him should be held accountable. To Stonn's surprise, the tribunal agreed and restored all of the Columbia's personnel back to operating status, save Darkan. Stonn now stood outside the building where his captain was being tried and most certainly losing his commission.

The Vulcan remembered the drink that they had had two nights prior. Darkan had quietly spoken, "Stonn... their just running through procedure. It is all a show. I am sure that when it is done, and things quiet down, I will be restored to active duty... but there is no sense in all of you being held up by this. You are a fine officer, and we had a fine crew... you all need to be out there doing what you do best. So, don't fight me on this, okay?"

Stonn did not. Now, with new orders in hand still within a sealed envelope, the Vulcan silenced his thoughts of what had been and made his way to a place that wasn't so trafficked by administrative Starfleet personnel. He found a bench that sat under a tree in the small park that was set in the center of the picturesque Starfleet campus. He broke the seal and pulled out his orders.

|| TO: COMMANDER STONN
|| FROM: STARFLEET COMMAND - ADM DEVEREAUX
|| STARDATE: 9667.2

////EYES ONLY////

COMMANDER STONN, YOU ARE TO REPORT TO THE USS COLUMBIA NCC-1830 WHERE YOU WILL TAKE COMMAND AS CAPTAIN. NEW CREW ASSIGNMENTS TO FOLLOW. ORDERS TO FOLLOW AFTER REPAIRS COMPLETE AND SHAKEDOWN IS PERFORMED.

ADM DEVEREAUX

The Vulcan lifted one eyebrow as he read the orders. Due to his people's art of controlling emotions, he made no other apparent sign of how his career with Starfleet had just changed save to say, "Interesting."



This game is not yet starting. I have only posted the initial prologue to give all players a quick idea of what is going on. More to follow as we have the new crew members drawn up and old members advanced.

If there are any questions, let me know (via PM or post in the Star Trek thread under General Discussion).

[tomcat]

It was a half hour before Stonn could get the next shuttle up to high Earth orbit, where the Columbia was currently drydocked. He collected the few personal things he had brought planetside and made his way to the shuttle launch. When he arrived, he saw some familiar faces, all carrying dufflebags full of their own possessions. The officer crew of the Columbia was returning to their ship.

Stonn let Grahm and Townshend enter first, then followed by Tam. He then entered and made room for the rest - Pushkin, Ramos and a Vulcan that no one had seen before. The shuttle pod was a bit cramped with everyone, but no one made any complaints. For most, the thought of their captain being left behind on Earth to face the tribunal alone filled their minds. Each wondered who the new captain would be and if they were even still assigned to the ship. Stonn, of course, knew the answers to most of their thoughts, but he did not yet share any of the orders that had come down from Admiral Deveraux.

It was Tam that broke the silence, as the shuttle pod lifted off with a shake. "I want to let you all know that I have been re-assigned. I am returning to the Columbia for one more trip... back to my homeworld of Trill. It seems that the officer exchange is revolving in a new set of officers from both our worlds and one will be taking my place. I don't know if any will be assigned to the ship, but you never know. I also would like to add that it was a pleasure to serve with you all - through good and bad. We were really put to the challenge and I think we came through pretty good... except for a bump or two." The doctor rubbed his head and laughed a bit, jesting over the concussion and coma that he had barely survived in their battle with the Romulans. His friends and fellow crewmen also smiled and laughed, but it was bittersweet. In truth, the Columbia had lost over fifty of its crew in that battle, and the laughter that they shared was healing. As officers, none would forget the lives that were lost in service to the Fleet, under their command, but they knew that they must let go of any fears and doubts. The laughter helped with that.

There was an awkward silence that Tam had not intended on creating, but Stonn put an end to it with his monotone voice, "Ms. Townshend, when we arrive on the Columbia, I would like you to call a meeting of all senior officer staff to the main briefing room on deck two."

"Yes, sir," replied Jess. She thought Stonn's request a bit moot, seeing as most of the ship's remaining officers were on the pod, but she said nothing.

The shuttle broke through the Earth's thermosphere and began to make a sweeping turn. Out the front viewscreen, Earth Starbase could be seen just beginning to drop over the horizon and when the pod had completed its turn, the crew could see where day was giving way to night in North America.

The trip continued for another twenty minutes until at long last the massive drydock appeared, glinting in the light of the sun. Within its mesh, the Columbia hung moored there with both tractor beams and mooring cables. As they fast approached, the crew could see where great palettes of the ship's skin was removed and suspended above the main body, while crews in EVA suits and workerbee shuttles made finishing repairs. The Columbia had been in drydock now for over ten weeks, going through refits, repairs, and removal of equipment from its previous mission.

This was home to some of those aboard the pod; for others it was a ride home; and for a few it was a quick stop before they were off on new adventures of their own.

[tomcat]

Grahm thought the Miranda-class a sleek vessel and the Columbia had server her crew well. Yes, some of his shipmates had not come home from their previous mission, but still the ship had fought well. Now with her superstructure re-engineered and systems repaired, she looked ready to take once more to the heavens. He hoped that he would be able to be part of her next journey.

The shuttle passed over the dorsal side of the great saucer and the crew saw the huge bold letters NC-1830 U.S.S. COLUMBIA just before her bridge dome. The ship's running lights were not yet lit, but still the insignia was plainly visible underneath the spacedock assembly frame's massive lights. Pushkin could see where the plasma scoring had been cleaned away and fresh new navy gray paint covered the hull. The small shuttle pod then went left, passing over the glowing bridge dome and then the starboard phaser array. The saucer disappeared beneath and the pod dropped down, reversing course as it did coming under the ventral side of the Columbia.

The crewmembers could see the yawning doors of docking port 4 wide open and the docking collar well lit for the pilot to navigate. The matter was irrelevant as a voice came over the speaker of the pod, "Shuttle Pod 223, we have your approach now and have taken over remote command. Sit back and enjoy the ride." The pilot leaned back from his console as the Columbia took over navigation of the small pod which shook slightly as tractor beams also locked on. The view changed again when the shuttle was turned around 180 degrees, then slowly it was drawn back into the docking port until its collar mated with the Columbia. There was another shudder, a cessation of movement, lights blinked green and then a hiss of air.

The pod doors opened and the crew stepped onto the bustling deck 8 of the Columbia. Mr. Stonn looked to the crew, "I will see you all in the briefing room once you have taken your personals to your quarters and have settled in." The senior officer staff nodded a confirmation and each moved off on their own course. Behind all, the pod doors shut and outside the mammoth doors slid closed leaving only their outline as evidence of their presence. The Columbia's hull was now completely 'buttoned up' and she was ready to be released from her drydock. The ship would need to be run out to assure there were no major issues that could not be taken care of in deep space. Otherwise, except to take on any new crew, she was ready.

[donimator]

Dylan closed his eyes and leaned back into his shuttle seat as the craft glided over the hull of the Columbia. At last, a Starfleet posting again! His brief career began seven years ago with an assignment straight out of the Academy to the newly refitted USS Yorktown, a Constitution Class heavy crusier (NCC-1717) captained by Joel Randolph. That ship's saucer gleamed the same way as he boarded it in drydock near the end of its maintenance cycle. His two fellow cadets beamed with pride as he did at their prestigous posting, though he knew the First Officer's family had vast and varied business interests on his home planet of Deneva. Dylan's family, the Downers, could trace a storied political dynasty back near four hundred years on Earth in Australia, to the foundation of the United Federation of Planets, to his own parents which were labor leaders on the long-established Deneva colony.

His Academy days were filled with hints at the power and position that awaited him if he provided favor to the simmering underbelly of corruption that gripped parts of Starfleet. Deneva's position as a safe crossroads between Klingon and Romulan space made some covet his family's influence. He had long swore off any interest in politics though, and sought escape in Starfleet. He was tactful and careful enough to sidestep any ties, though it cast the rising star that placed him in such a grand first deployment into a precipitous fall. Especially with the disastrous result of the Yorktown's first mission...

That was the past though and the previous five years as a Starfleet liason officer aboard the S.S. Silver Isle, a Class III Tanker converted to a passenger liner, made this posting to the Columbia that much more sweet. This post was earned and he was determined that nobody would pull his strings again.

[tomcat]

Excellent intro Don! I will have more to add tonight.

[tomcat]

Lieutenant Downer stepped from the large Aladdin-class shuttle that had just transported him to the Columbia from Earth Starbase. He had spent the last week and a half within the massive facility waiting for his orders and was quite pleased when he received the PADD. Dylan had watched as the Silver Isle departed Earth's orbit for a destination of its own, leaving him to his new adventure.

Now he was here. The huge hangar within the Miranda-class vessel was bustling with activity. Yellow lights flashed overhead as repulsor-lifts moved different stores of supplies that had been onloaded to the Columbia. He dodged out of the way of crewmen and machines until finally he made it to the exit door. Standing there was an operations ensign with a PADD in his hand observing the seeming chaos within the hangar. He saw Downer looking at him and went somewhat rigid when he saw Dylan's rank. "Sir! Welcome aboard the U.S.S. Columbia."

Dylan gave a nod in acknowledgement and asked, "Ensign, where is the ship's commanding officer?"

The Ensign gave a blank stare back, looked down at his PADD, and replied, "I apologize, sir, but I do not know who the commanding officer of the ship is yet. Captain Darkan was relieved upon our arrival and Starfleet Command has not yet signalled us... I do know that Commander Stonn, the XO, is on board and he has ordered all senior officer staff to the briefing room on Deck 2. Sir."

Dylan thanked the young man and left the chill of the flight deck behind him. "Deck 2," he said when he entered the turbolift. It was the best place to start.

Sorek had not gone unnoticed on the shuttlepod ride up to the Columbia. His fellow Vulcan, Stonn, had given him a nod, though the other officers seemed tied up in their thoughts. Humans. They were always so involved with the immediate, never relaxing and letting their minds dissect the many influences that were going on around them. The science officer knew that Stonn had been amongst this crew for most of a year and he wondered how he handled his emotional colleagues.

The Vulcan had not said a word to anyone as they departed the pod. He checked his PADD to see his quarters assignment, made his way there to unload his belongings, and then went to the turbolift. As the doors opened, he saw a brown-haired man standing there with a duffelbag at his feet. The man was wearing insignia of operations and communications on his dress uniform and Sorek could see he was a lieutenant.

"Going to Deck 2," said Downer to the Vulcan that entered his lift. "That is my destination as well," replied Sorek. And so, the Columbia's two new officers rode together the remaining way in silence. The turbolifts doors opened with a hiss and they followed the corridor around until they saw the briefing room entrance. Upon entering, the two officers saw the other senior officer staff sitting around the table chatting quietly. They took seats of their own and began to make acquaintances with their fellow shipmates. The process was interrupted five minutes later as Mr. Stonn and Mr. Ramos entered the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Stonn calling the room to order. It sounded a strange greeting from the emotionless voice, but the room quieted down. The chief engineer found himself a seat, as Stonn continued, "We have a lot to do so I will not take unnecessary time from you. First let me start by saying by order of Starfleet Command, I have been given command of the U.S.S. Columbia." There was a chorus of soft congratulations that Stonn quickly dismissed as unnecessary. "Second our ship has gone through a refit and removal of highly confidential equipment. Mr. Ramos and his staff have been hard at work getting the ship back together and we have been given the green light to perform a few trials before we leave for our new duty station. Before we depart, there are some staff re-assignments most of which you are aware of within your departments, but also some of you have been given new orders. Dr. Tam, as he announced earlier, has been ordered back to his homeworld and the Columbia shall be taking him home, as that is the direction of our next mission. Also, Jess Townshend, you have been ordered to Earth Spacedock prior to our departure where you shall be receiving your new assignment."

John and Jess both looked at each other with the announcement. They knew something like this might happen to one of them, but it did not make the moment any easier. Still, they were officers and so did nothing more than quietly nod at one another.

Stonn's voice filled the room again, "Our new ship's doctor has not yet reported in, but we understand that he is on his way." The Vulcan captain then looked to the new arrivals, "Lt. Townshend, your replacement is Mr. Downer, here. Please go over all departmental information that you feel necessary before you depart. Our other new officer is Sorek, he will be taking my position as ship's Science Officer." Stonn looked around him, "That is all for now... if there are no questions, we have our tasks before us."

Grahm looked on as the room began to animate and the officer staff began to collect their things. So, Stonn was captain. The Tactical Officer was not sure how he felt about that. John always thought a captain needed to be able to make any command decision at any time, even if it defied logic. He hoped that their new commanding officer would not be constrained by the philosophies upon which he followed. With these thoughts left behind, Grahm went over to Jess and walked her out of the briefing room. He wanted to spend as much time with her as he possibly could before they were sent on their own ways. He promised himself that no matter what, he would see this relationship flourish... after all, he had fallen madly in love with her.

[Rictor]

Sorek remained seated for a minute longer his human heritage wanting him to ask for traditional greetings and for him to get to know the rest of the crew.  However he blinked his eyes a couple of times and eventually realized that logically he would get to know the crew in time and that would be more efficient.

He stood up as the rest of the apparent officers had done and made his way over to the turbolift, stepping in he went to the bridge and decided that it would be best for him to familiarize himself with the science section of the bridge before the ship left the spacedock.  On the way there he couldn't help but think that Stonn had used a rather peculiar method of introduction for a Vulcan.  If the commanding officer of this vessel is using emotional greetings it might be best if I try to, but it's illogical to do so.  He thought as he waited for the turboloift to arrive at the bridge.

[donimator]

Dylan sat through the briefing with composure, nodding and acknowledging those named with practiced tact while he scrutinized faces. Years of obligations in a political family put him at ease in these situations and he idly made small talk before the announcements began. Some of the information seemed to be newly revealed and he studied the reactions of the existing crew as the details were laid out.  His mind drifted back...

2279, Briefing Room, USS Yorktown...Rear Admiral Cartwright had just finished pinning the Captain insignia on the shoulder epaulette of Joel Randolph, the newly appointed Captain of the Yorktown. The ship's officers crowded in ranks, sharply dressed in the new style of uniform that had just come into fashion. Dylan and his fellow cadets smartly saluted after receiving their Ensign pins, the simple bars that marked them as Officer Cadets with no real standing within Starfleet were forever gone. Speeches and acknowledgements were made before the ceremony broke for refreshments. Dylan met with his section head and a lieutenant in engineering who would be supervising his post at the secondary controls deep in the ship's bowels. They espoused the advanced and cutting edge mission ops systems the refit had brought in, though Dylan had thoroughly briefed himself on the changes. He listened politely and asked the proper questions - these two seemed capable enough and well-versed in their duties. He confirmed his first watch rotation and he even wrangled a preliminary job shadow for later in the day. Dylan recognized the First Officer's raised glass from across the room with a nod. A slight uneasiness gripped his stomach at what the future might hold, but he had marked the First Officer as a military man through and through and thought he could easily maneuver around his forthcoming requests without promising too much. The man clearly thought his family could influence matters on Deneva with far greater ease than in truth and that his own influence with his parent's decisions was far greater than it actually was. Yes, these entanglements would have to be managed, but he was confident in his ability to navigate the rough waters ahead. He turned to see a familiar face, Lt.(j.g.) Valeris, an upperclassmen two years ahead of him who had been the first Vulcan to graduate the Academy at the head of her class. She returned his salute with a cool smile and congratulated him on his first posting. She reminded him of the prestige and honor of serving on the Yorktown, asked idly about some old instructors and excused herself to talk with Rear Admiral Cartwright before he departed. Dylan was suitably impressed. There was a lady with big events in her future...

..."Also, Jess Townshend, you have been ordered to Earth Spacedock prior to our departure where you shall be receiving your new assignment." Reassigned? Dylan thought Lt. Townsend was pegged for promotion, not a reassignment. Perhaps he hadn't assessed the mood of the ship as clearly as he had thought. As the meeting broke, Dylan made his way over to her, "Lt. Towshend, best wishes in your new posting. I was hoping you could debrief me on some of the new systems and procedures you have in place before you ship out. Anything you could pass along would be greatly appreciated...Commander Grahm." Dylan saluted smartly as the Tac Officer approached and excused himself. Something was going on there too. Yes, he had misjudged some things about this assignment. He had known since a child that information was power and the little bits he discovered today would be filed away to be fit together once he knew the crew's history a little better.

[BrianM]

Doc Sherman ran a hand through his messy white hair and leaned back against the bulkhead of the shuttle. He was alone, most of the senior staff having already arrived at their new assignment on the USS Columbia. He didn't bother looking out the portal. Doc had been reassigned so many times now that every new ship looked the same as the last. Long ago he had lost the feeling of wonder at seeing the giant Federation vessels from the outside.

The last assignment had not gone well. The young captain had done everything by the book, and had little tolerance for Doc's unconventional, but effective approach to medicine. "Kids", he blurted out to the empty passenger cabin. "This fleet is run by damn children." For a moment he thought of his own daughter, an administrator within the fleet. Shaking his head, Doc realized that she may even have been responsible for this last minute reassignment, to get him away from Earth, and her, as quickly as possible.

After an uneventful docking, the airlock slid open to reveal a young ensign waiting beyond. "The senior staff are meeting, sir. I will take you to them, but you have arrived late." Doc knew the 'sir' wasn't out of respect for his rank, but simply an acknowledgement of his age. While waiting for the medical officer to collect his dufflebag, the ensign could not conceal his look of disdain at the non-regulation white laboratory coat that Doc wore over his uniform. Emphatically stuffing a medical tricorder into a pocket of the coat, Doc blurted out "These new uniforms don't have any pockets. How can I be a doctor if I don't have any damn pockets!". Without a response, the ensign turned and headed down the hall.

"Kids", Doc muttered as he followed the ensign into his new home.

[tomcat]

Jess turned to the man that was taking her position on the bridge of the Columbia, then quickly glanced back at Grahm with a sad hint to her eyes. "Yes, of course I can. Give me a second and I will take you up to the bridge." She looked back at John and the Tactical Officer smiled saying, "Don't worry... I will find you before you transport out." John Grahm turned from the two operations officers and went about his duties - getting busy helped to keep his thoughts away from Townshend's departure.

The Columbia's fomer Ops officer led Dylan up the stairwell and onto the bridge. Once there, Jess proceeded to go through her station with him, showing him crew itineraries, ship's power distribution, communications, and transporter activity.

Still on Deck 2, Stonn stood outside the briefing room quietly watching as his staff left and went about their jobs. It was then that an ensign, followed by a white-haired older man exited the turbolift and then came walking up. The Vulcan knew by the description that this was his ship's new doctor.



All right, that is all I really have for the game prologue. I will be posting the first game thread sometime tomorrow, but feel free to RP your characters and interact. I will chime in with any NPC answers.

Shawn, sorry for the takeover of Stonn throughout this post but I wanted to set the scene. Feel free to pick up here and meet your CMO.

[donimator]

Dylan paused a moment as he entered the newly refurbished bridge. The cleanness of the lines and the sense of efficiency permeated the space, even though the ship was not yet underway and only a skeleton crew performed last minute checks and diagnostics. Too many of the past years were spent on a merchant marine vessel with the lack of discipline and colorful characters that went with it. He quickened his pace to fall into step with Lt. Townshend and followed closely as she broke down the station and routines. A few inefficiencies he could tweak later, but all-in-all it was well run and managed. He discussed some of the changes the refit brought, having only seen the literature on the new capabilities. But that was something he could dive into during the runout. He was curious about some things before Jess Townshend left the ship.

Being tactful and careful not to pry into something that would stir an emotional response in her, he asked offhandedly during their technical discussion, "From all reports the Columbia had a successful mission. There seems to be quite the turnover in crew. Is there as much of a change in the enlisted ranks as for the officers? I'd like to know how green the sections are. Any ideas why the ship was given such a shakedown?"...

2279 - USS Yorktown, Engineering-Secondary controls - Dylan's first few shifts were busy as he tried to absorb the scope of his duties under the watchful eye of the duty engineer, Lt. Talbot. He was a rare officer who rose from the enlisted ranks and had been posted on Constitution-class vessels since their initial launch. He would never rise higher than Lieutenant, but the respect and trust afforded him went in both directions up and down the ranks. He was demanding, but cool and efficient and tested Dylan daily with mock situations that seemed impossible to imagine let alone ever actually happening. He would always calmly break down where Dylan needed to improve and what could have been done better. The initial chagrin of being tested quickly gave way to gratitude for the pace he was learning and being prepared. He realized Lt. Talbot saw something in him worth spending time on and began spending some of his downtime trying to puzzle out what might be thrown at him next. Yes, task-wise, life aboard the Yorktown was more than he had hoped for. The Yorktown's first mission was an inspection of the antenna relays, Echo 1, 2 and 3 in the Beta quadrant. The circuitous route would take them to Sirius, Vulcan, Orion and, ultimately, Deneva. Dylan had not been home in some years, dating to when he joined Starfleet, and the prospect of shore leave was unsettling for some reason. More unsettling was his misread of the First Officer, Cmdr. Blake. He had thought him simple and opportunistic in his attempts to curry favor, but soon saw he had tendrils in many members of the crew. Dylan's scope was limited to Engineering and the off-duty decks, he was so busy he had little time for much else, but the First Officer seemed ubiquitous and locked in private conversations with all manner of crew encompassing the full spectrum of rank and task. It might be the mark of a man efficient at his job, but Dylan marked the effect these conversations had on the crewmembers. Even Lt. Talbot would grow tight-lipped and perspire after being called aside by the Commander. It wasn't long before Dylan heard whispers of crewmen who had asked for a transfer to a lesser vessel because of the First Officer, but such snippets needed to be pieced together and any details only alluded too. Which was why Dylan's hackles were raised when he got the dispatch to dine in the Commander's quarters one evening...

[sdrotar]

While the Columbia was buzzing with excitement, as returning crewmembers roamed the halls and new ones stumbled about them for the first time, Juan Ramos was exhausted.

Unlike so many of his shipmates, Ramos didn't have much time away during the refit - as Chief Engineer, it was his duty to be present and oversee the Columbia's repair and restoration - and it was far more taxing and time-consuming than normal starship duty.

But the ship was ready, Ramos was certain of that, and he had taken the liberty of beaming down for a few days last week to see his mother in Barcelona. She was as hearty as ever despite her advancing age, and Juan enjoyed being able to spend some time with his familia again; it had been too long.

Walking the streets of Barcelona and admiring its legendary architecture had always inspired Juan as a youth, and he was pleased to find that it still did. On a sun-dappled day, passing by Gaudi's iconic Casa Milà, and looking across the square to his masterwork, the city's famed Sagrada Família, Ramos found that the now-360-year-old structures still awed him; the first with its stout curvatures and the latter with its soaring spires, defying gravity and now time itself.

He always found the same breathtaking beauty in starship designs, and when he returned to the Columbia (with some authentic Spanish wine in tow, of course - Madre insisted), he remembered how proud he was to have the job that he did.

Even though he was exhausted.

[sdrotar]

Stonn was... relieved that his self-introduction as captain had gone by without incident. He had not expected any, of course - Starfleet officers were professionals - but the circumstances of Captain Darkan's removal were unusual, and he assumed that many of the crew had questions about it. Unfortunately, he was in no position to answer them.

Stonn had not sought command, but it had been thrust upon him, and he would perform the role to the best of his ability. Challenges lay ahead for him, he knew that; even though he had become accustomed to working with humans, he was not human and did not think like one. He knew that humans needed emotional support from their captain from time to time and wondered how he would meet that particular challenge. Such situations cannot be predicted, he surmised, and so logic dictated that he put those notions aside for now - he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Stonn thought it advantageous that the Columbia was seeing so much turnover among the crew; while ordinarily, many ship commanders saw this as a negative, he saw it as an opportunity to start anew. The Columbia's previous mission was a disjointed one, shrouded in secrecy that had still not been completely unveiled. Perhaps it was best to gain fresh perspective. Stonn thought so, at least.

He had been in contact with Lt. Cdr. Ramos, who had assured him that the Columbia was ready for flight. Ramos didn't seem to have any reservations about Stonn's promotion, which he deemed unusual; many humans found it difficult to serve under Vulcans. Perhaps Ramos, whose mechanically-oriented mind was necessarily driven by logic, found it to be less... intimidating. Nevertheless, Stonn was satisfied that his working relationship with his Chief Engineer would be a productive one.

He had hoped that the new ship's doctor would also be driven by logic, as many diagnosticians were. Those hopes were dashed when he saw him...

"Doctor Sherman," Stonn said flatly as he walked to greet him. "Welcome to the Columbia. I trust you have found Sickbay equipped to your satisfaction?" He would mention the uniform code later. Perhaps the doctor had not had time to properly settle into his quarters. Stonn posited that this was his first command opportunity to be... flexible.

[tomcat]

Nice posts, Shawn. I have to say, you RP a Vulcan much better than I. You are able to capture the un-human-ness very well. Glad it's you playing him and not me! 

[tomcat]

John walked through the doors to transporter room 2 and saw Jess sitting there in the lounge. At her feet were all of her personals that she had kept on the ship. The two gave each other a wan smile. It was hard to believe that they would no longer be serving together on the Columbia.

All personnel, save Townshend had been transported off of the ship in one fashion or another, and now it was time for Jess to go. Earth Spacedock had made its circuit of the planet and was rising over the eastern horizon, so she could now be easily transported to the station. For both Jess and John it seemed to soon. They both would give another day, week, month, before they wanted this time to come. But it was here and the Columbia was in midst of unsecuring from its moorings.

Townshend gave Grahm a long hug and they kissed. It was one of only a few that they had shared so far. John spoke, "I'll be seeing you soon, okay?" Jess nodded and her eyes began to well with tears. The tactical officer smiled, as he swallowed hard, "Don't forget me, okay?" To that Jess laughed, "Don't you forget me neither."

"Never," was all John could muster. He knew that they would be together, but first he and his assigned ship had a duty and so he let her go. Townshend backed away and they grabbed up her things. They walked them into the transporter room and set her bags on one pad, while Jess took the one just next to it. They heard the transporter tech speak to an unknown, far away on the station, "Earth Spacedock, one to beam over." An unattached voice replied, "Columbia, we are ready to receive Lt. Townshend."

Grahm stepped back from the transporter area and Jess smiled and gave him a wave. Suddenly the loud whine of the machine was heard and Townshend began to dematerialize in a sparkle of energy.

Then she was gone.

Grahm breathed in deep, adjusted his uniform tunic, and turned away from the transporter pads. Without a word to the staring transporter techs, he strode from the room and walked towards the turbolift. They were now ready. It was time to go.