From: Ranjani Sabarinathan (rantrek_at_yahoo.com)
Date: Wed Jan 23 2008 - 08:11:38 PST
“A Nosy Reporter”
(contd from Kim’s ‘Tension Continues’)
Location: USS MERCY
SD: 2.80115.0044
Scene: Sickbay
Kathryn MacNeil yawned as she was completing important paperwork in her office. She stroked William Wallace’s coat gently. Mary Sue, her pet chimp, was sleeping peacefully on one of the visitor’s chairs. The MERCY CMO had reports to complete on the casualties that the last two battles produced. She had to organize all the medical reports made on the large number of surgeries that the MERCY staff performed. She rubbed both her eyes in order to keep herself fresh for the next few hours.
The Scot wanted to contact her parents back in Edinburgh to let them know she was doing okay and to apologize for missing Christmas with them. At the same time, Kate wanted to find out what happened to NUMINO after the wormhole’s closure. The hybrid was most specifically nervous for her birth mother, Dahlis Alenvin, who was the Chief Consul of the Nuimon ruling council, at least the last time she had seen her. Kate was not sure if Dahlis had told her family about having another daughter. If she did tell them, the Scot wondered how her half-siblings reacted to having an older sister. Judging from the hostility, Raemona Alenvin displayed in her presence, back when the Scot had dinner with Dahlis’ family, Kate imagined in dismay her younger half-sister would not have taken the news well. Regardless of how they took the news, the Scot hoped they were alright.
There was another matter that bothered the half-Nuimon. Kathryn knew her current assignment as CMO of the MERCY was only temporary. The tall, auburn haired woman was unsure whether fleet command would return her back to Starfleet Medical HQ or keep her in the Gamma Quadrant to aid in the relief efforts. The last few weeks at the station were pretty grueling for the 28 year old woman as she was exposed to the stench of death and destruction from two battles with a powerful enemy.
[[Gorman to Dr. MacNeil,]] the voice of Jeff Gorman, GS-2 CMO, flowed through her comm. badge.
Kate acknowledged. “MacNeil here, what can I do for you, doctor?”
Jeff requested. [[Kate, can you please come down here? I want to discuss some medical reports with you.]]
“I’ll be right there in fifteen minutes,” MacNeil agreed.
-=(^)=-
Location: GS-2
Scene: Docking Bay 22
Quartermaster Norman Finnis looked at the ship’s manifest and roster and back at the Captain of the Lunar Run. “It seems we have a discrepancy here,” the man said matter-of-factly. The documents contained long lists detailing many relief supplies—supplies that the station was very happy to be receiving considering recent events, but Norman Finnis was an exact man.
The Tellurite captain frowned. “Starfleet ordered a number of stem bolts for your reconstruction efforts. Are you honestly telling me you don’t need them?”
“Nothing of the sort,” Norman said with affected joviality. “The records you transmitted to me indicate that your cargo should contain, among other things, seven crates of stem bolts. They can stay.”
“Than what’s the hold up?” Captain Grelt Uren asked before gesturing towards the shimmering energy barrier that separated the docking bay from the glittering star field. “I know you’ve got a lot of traffic waiting to dock and I’d like to get on my way.”
The quartermaster pointed towards a team of security officers and three civilians. “You see…you didn’t transmit a request to land and offload passengers. This is a war zone; we can’t have just anyone coming through here without knowing who they are and what their business is. I’m afraid I can’t allow them to stay because of that.”
“Quartermaster Finnis, I can’t take them. We don’t have enough matter stores to make it to our next destinations with three passengers,” the Tellurite kept his voice even, but his fur ruffled a little. “Plus this is a civilian station. It may also house Starfleet personnel, but Federation citizens have a right to travel to civilian destinations within the Federation unhindered. You have no right to restrict their access to the station‘s on security grounds.”
Norman nodded and smiled. “Take it you’re a debater. Well, unfortunately this is *my* docking bay and *I’m* not allowing them to enter through it. Feel free to lodge a request with your Federation Council representative. But regulations are not up for debate. If you had followed the proper procedures then we wouldn’t have a problem. But you choose not to. ”
Grelt’s hooded eyes narrowed perceivably. “This is *my* ship and *I’m* not letting them back on.”
Ensign Campbell watched the exchange from a few feet away. The night duty officer and a small team of security crewmen had been doing standard docking bay checks when the Quartermaster had informed him that they had a problem. Douglas sat back and watched the two men discuss the civilian’s status.
Every once and a while, he’d glance sideways at the woman in the group. She had milky skin and dark features. She sat watching the exchange intensely, as if keeping a mental note of everything she heard and saw. In a whispered voice, he leaned over and offered a bit of commiseration, “Sorry about this. I’m certain we’ll get it all sorted out.” He then looked back at the Quartermaster who persisted in arguing with a species renowned for their argumentativeness and stubbornness. Self-consciously he brought himself to his full height before adding, “I’m Doug, by the way.”
The woman cocked her head to the side and looked the security officer over. “Pleasure meeting you Doug. I’m sure it’s all just a misunderstanding,” the woman opined. The crewman unloading the crates the Quartermaster *had* allowed on to his deck would have noticed a subtle shift in her demeanor as if the reserved and watchful woman had thawed a little. “I’m Kierenna Trel,” she amended, her berry-stained lips arching into a soft smile.
The young ensign nodded before shifting nervously. “Betazoid?” he queried.
Kierenna’s face dropped slightly before she gave him another appraising glance. “How’d you guess?”
“Pass time of mine. Kierenna’s neither a Terran name nor is Trel an Alpha Centauran name,” Doug said with a half-satisfied smile.
“How many do you guess correctly?”
Doug shrugged. “Quite a few. I almost majored in comparative linguistics at the Academy.”
“Quite a shift to security,” the woman said softly.
Their conversation lapsed for a few moments as he stared off, looking a formation of Aurora fighters flying a patrol. “You know… you could invoke your right to speak with a member of the Command staff. It should be the XO’s duty shift in Ops and she used to be my boss. She’s not the most understanding person on the planet, but she’s a fair bit better than the Quartermaster I imagine.”
“Lieutenant Eishnala sh’Kor was made Executive Officer of the Station?” Kierenna fought and failed to keep her sense of shock from seeping in to her voice.
Ensign Campbell straightened himself before he looked over at her. Their conversation was no longer hushed. “Lieutenant Commander Kor,” he corrected, “But how did you know who was Head of Security?” Just as shock had seeped into her voice, suspicious permeated his. “That shouldn’t have been common knowledge, especially in light of when the wormhole closed.”
Kierenna Trel closed her eyes and sighed. “I’m a reporter for FedComm and I invoke the privileges my crew and I are entitled to under the guidelines of our press pass,” she declared to the hollow space of the docking bay causing the bickering captain and anal-retentive quartermaster to look over at them and break off the frenetic pitch of their squabble.
Ensign Campbell’s face became a wall, “I need to see your documentation, Ms. Trel.”
“I’d also love an interview with your former boss. There have been a number of accusations of treason flung around since the alpha quadrant received reports of the secession and I’m certain the public would love to hear her account.”
“I’m sorry,” Doug’s voice had taken on an edge for the first time in their conversation. “I’m not the Commander’s secretary and as this is a time of war…I’m fairly certain she doesn’t have to answer what are likely to be your inflammatory questions.”
“Shame. You were kinda cute, ensign.”
-=(^)=-
Scene: Corridor outside Operations
Kierenna strode along the corridor, hoping to gain entry into Main Operations, in order to get an interview with Lt. Cmdr. Kor and if the stars are aligned right, the station’s new CO, whom she had no idea. Engineers were busy with repair work, so they hardly bothered noticing the reporter. Trell cringed, as she watched a group of petty officers working on removing a burnt out bulk head that was dangling from the wall.
PO3 Steve Jenkins whispered, salivating with excitement. “Hey, you know what I heard about Commander Davidson.”
**Commander Davidson. ** The mention of the station’s CO perked up Trell’s ear and the Betazoid inched closer towards the group to listen. She glanced around, hoping to not be too obvious about her spying. She rummaged through her purse and took out a crimson coloured lipstick. **Who is Commander Davidson? Could it be the station’s new commanding officer? ** Kierenna mused, putting on her lipstick.
“What about it?” PO2 Clairo, a female Benzite, questioned.
Jenkins gulped, before lowering his voice to a whisper. “A friend of mine, who’s a fellow petty officer, was in Ops the other day, believes she can shape shift.”
Because the petty officer, third class, was whispering, Kierenna was finding it to difficult to hear each word. However, she did get to hear the words shape shift and became even more interested. Putting the lipstick back into her purse and then removing a perfume, the slender woman edged even closer.
Clairo inquired, looking skeptical. “What? No way. Maybe it was a changeling who took our CO’s form.”
The other petty officer chuckled, still managing to keep his voice down. “I tried to point that out. But my friend claimed she saw the commander standing around. Then said she had turned away for a minute and found a black cat jumping through a slot but the commander was nowhere to be seen.”
Clairo groaned. “Maybe she just left and your friend missed seeing her leave.”
“Yeah,” Jenkins sighed, wiping a sweat off his brow. “This whole war with the Dominion is taking a toll on all of us. Maybe she was imagining things.”
The Benzite shrugged. “Maybe.” Both petty officers returned back to their tasks.
Trell stepped away from the group, grinning like a Cheshire cat. **Hmm…this is interesting. ** It was then the Betazoid had put two and two together and figured out Davidson’s secret. She gleefully marched towards Ops. **Commander Davidson, possibly a changeling. Well, sounds like I got myself an explosive story. **
A marine stepped in the reporter’s way and stated, gruffly. “You’re not supposed to be here, ma’am.”
Kierenna studied the young man, who seemed to be around nineteen years, closely. “Private, it always fascinates me as to how I found so many young men in the Marine Corps.” She smiled broadly in an attempt to soften up the marine, but the young man remained stoic.
“Ma’am, you need to leave this area,” the private ordered.
Trell sighed, before explaining. “Actually I was hoping if Commander Kor is up for an interview.”
************************************************************************
NRPG: JP by Katrina and myself :) Hope you all enjoy reading the post. This is only part 1 of the mini-storyline we’ve been working on. Part 2 should be out in a few days, where it will result in change in direction for Kate’s character development ;)
Katrina Browne
Lieutenant Eishnala sh'Kor
Executive Officer
GS-2
and
Ranjani Sabarinathan
Speaking for...
[/\]o..
Lieutenant Commander Kathryn MacNeil, MD
Temporary Chief Medical Officer
USS MERCY
---------------------------------
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