Hailing Frequency - Star Trek Gaming Forum & Podcast

Community Services => Writers Den & RPGs => Topic started by: K'Suan'Indra on 06 March 2008 10:37 PM

Title: Onboard the UFP DevilFish
Post by: K'Suan'Indra on 06 March 2008 10:37 PM
  ((just a bit of fun here....please add to this as you see fit....there is no right or wrong to the 'story'...))

  It stank.
  There was no other way to describe the smell aboard the ship. It reminded her of a favorite snack Kinneas would munch on during his down time, 'corn chips' they were called. Pungent, with the decided overtone of unwashed feet. That is what the ship smelled like to her, nose crinkled as she strode through the corridor. The bridge was her destination, requests and complaints logged in her tricorder for the Captain to review. To say that life aboard the UFP DevilFish was flipped upside down would be quite the understatement. The sudden implosions of both Perpetual and STOnet Bases filled their subspace areas with refugees and if were not for the DevilFish, who knows what could have happened...
  But that was neither here nor there. There were other concerns. The air scrubbers, for example. The filters Kinneas picked up...to say they were substandard was a mild understatement hense, the stench. Next, the volume of people. The DevilFish was a decomissioned militia ship. It was meant for quick strikes, not cargo. The crew was doing the best they could, but there was overcrowding. Overcrowding AlterEgo would be fool not to use against them all. He, of course, became an overrising concern with his illogical need to wreak havok and to destroy everything the Federation worked for. Those reasons, as well as the childish graffiti found throughout the ship, were enough to make even her be on edge.
  Those emotions were properly compartmentalized as they need be, a placid expression and demeanor shown to any and all. It was the Vulcan way, after all...and she needed to be strong for her shipmates and all that called the DevilFish their spacefaring home.
Title: Re: Onboard the UFP DevilFish
Post by: BLZBUB on 07 March 2008 01:13 AM
 David felt angry enough to hit a Targ! It wasn't enough that the crowding in cargo hold two was nearly intolerable. And the stupid fist-fight he'd had with the Bolian there a half hour ago hadn't helped either. But while walking the corridors to cool off, an interminable Vulcan officer had had the temerity to ask him if there were any complaints that he would like to pass on to the Captain! Complaints? On this twice overcrowded piece of ...? Well, he had managed to keep his smoldering temper in check and mumble something about the smell, and the pitiful rationing.
 Stepping around a tumult of children running the other way, he saw the Vulcan officer enter a turbo lift farther along the corridor. 'Probably going to relax in her quarter's', he though morosely. 'Come to think of it, I haven't really noticed any of the crew members as being very underfed looking!'
 Snap decisions had kept him alive more than once out in the galaxy, and his sudden decision now was just as sure to him now as if he were still running contraband from Ferenginaar to Coridan. David Rogers was hungry, and the galley would give him a proper meal post haste, or "Captain's mess" would derive a whole new meaning aboard this heap of parts!

ooc: Something like that K'Suan ? =)
Title: Re: Onboard the UFP DevilFish
Post by: K'Suan'Indra on 07 March 2008 01:32 AM
  ((exactly   :)  everyone else follow suit!))
Title: Re: Onboard the UFP DevilFish
Post by: Zach on 07 March 2008 02:26 PM
It was late. There was no active timepiece in the room, so the captain did not know how late, but it was late, and he could not sleep again.

He reached over and activated the lights. They flickered on dimly, serving only to remind him of the ships current state. Having recently transferred survivors to STOzone base, the ship had use up alot of its power reserves, and being a civilian ship, to resupply was costly.

It was the third night in a row he had not been able to sleep - perhaps it was because he could sense the weakened state of his ship, or perhaps it was something else - maybe both.

Wandering over to his desk, he activated his computer and accessed his newest messages. One from Engineering letting him know that yet another EPS Conduit had failed, One from the Redshirt complaining about "The Freakin Replicators" - Just more  stuff to stop him from sleeping. He scrolled through the messages, skimming over every one........Stop.....There it was again, another one. Unknown Sender, Unknown Origin. He tried to run a trace but he knew the results before they even flashed up on the screen - Trace Route Failed. He wasn't surprised - he hadn't been able to trace the messages the last seven times, why would this unknown sender slip up now.

Accessing the unknown message, he skimmed over the contents, growing more wide eyed with surprise as he progressed through. If this information was correct, something big was about to happen - Something so big, it could shake the very foundations of the quadrant. His ship needed to be in top condition, even if it was going to use up the last of his credits to do it.

"Captain Zach to the Bridge - Set a course for Space Station K7 - Request Permission to Dock and Resupply. I want every system on this ship repaired. Have time and cost estimates ready for me in the morning"

God Knows, he couldn't afford it, but this ship and this crew were all he had left. Once a proud Captain in Starfleet, now, leader of the only independant news corporation in the quadrant.

Walking back over to his bed, he sits down on the edge  and opens a small drawer on a bedside cabinet. Pulling out a hypospray, he pushes it to his neck. "Hiisssss"

"Ahhhhh.....Finally" - He thinks to himself. His eyes close, and darkness surrounds him. The Captain will live to fight another day!
Title: Re: Onboard the UFP DevilFish
Post by: BLZBUB on 10 March 2008 03:38 AM
 'Of all the stupid times to pick a fight!', David thought to himself as he threw another broken table out of the door and into the corridor.

 "Not that it was entirely my fault though", he reiterated softly under his breath. The chef, as he called himself, bent down and grabbed the other end of a long busted table, waiting for Rogers to get to the other end, and the two of them hoisted it to waist height and trundled it over to the doorway and through, where they tossed it down next to the growing pile of rubble already carted out of the mess hall.

 "You know Ryback," David stopped and faced the chef, "I don't recall breaking nearly so much of this stuff when we tussled!"

 "Tussled? I believe Captain Zach referred to it as, and I quote; 'An out-and-out brawl between two blind bulls!' I am lucky to be keeping my position on board the Devilfish, and your to blame for that Rogers!"

"Oh, c'mon! I just asked for a decent meal, was that so bad?"

"Don't get me started again Rogers, you knew damn well the replicators were offline and I weren't going to be a-cookin' any three-course meals for a passenger."

 David knew he had to agree with the man on that point, and also agreed with the Captains...unique...response to damage repair. 'I'd probably done pretty much the same in his shoes I guess,' he thought morosely.
 Captain Zachs' unique response was, simply, to charge Rogers with an open bill, drawn off the UFP Devilfish account, for services rendered and for reparations to 'un-specified damage', quote/unquote, to private property belonging to his news corporation.

 That had left Rogers with only one of two choices! Work off the bill aboard ship, which conceivably could take a couple years; Or be handed over to the authorities at the next star base for civil prosecution. And Rogers avoided authorities whenever possible!

 So now, David Rogers was an "Apprentice cook" on board the UFP Devilfish! And the person whom he had , nearly, wrestled to a standstill in this mess hall only five hours ago, was now his immediate boss for the forseeable future.

 'I really gotta learn to watch my mouth sometimes', David thought sheepishly, and followed 'Chef' Ryback back in to finish the cleanup.

ooc: If your chef is not to your liking Zach, edit as necessary ;)
Title: Re: Onboard the UFP DevilFish
Post by: Kinneas on 12 March 2008 07:27 PM
Phaser fire sizzled the air as women screamed and the cowards fled, knocking anyone over who got in the way.

Thick, overturned, iron tables took the brunt of incoming shots as Kinneas sat snarling behind one.

The now four member Klingon wolf pack would have him surrounded in a moment.  They didn't take kindly to humans in these parts and an insult that could not be held back was all they needed to seethe and unsheathe.

After dropping one Klingon to the bar room floor with a stiff knife hand thrust to the throat, two of the others upped the ante and drew phasers.

Despite the snarl, Kinneas was not irritated.  He had been away from this era in time for almost ten years.  An 'Odyssey' of his own.

He had been a counselor for a brief time in Starfleet before that event.  Fresh out of the Academy.

 Instead of continuing on with Starfleet he went home and joined the local UFP militia and found himself in a prvate little UFP skirmish and was lost through a doorway...stranded on a primitive world of blades, blood and magic.

The person behind the table now was not at all the one he had been before.

With no phaser, Kinn snatched the combadge off his uniform and ripped the cover off and reconfigured it's innards before popping the combadge up into the air to peek over the table towards the Klingons.   Doing what it was not intended to do, the badge sent out a wave that toppled over walls of bottles onto several of the attackers. Kinn smiled hearing the Klingon cursing and wedged the badge into a nook to continue assaulting anything in the cone with seismic waves.

From the right..A leaping flanker, with blade raised.  Instead of blocking, Kinn grabbed the wrist of the incoming attacker and pulled the knife in faster towards himself, then spun in the last second and pulling up hard on the wrist of his enemy.  The Klingon ended up on his back, gasping for air as Kinneas smiled and spun the blade in his hand, then dropped a knee and the death dealing point of the blade.

Sizzling air and fire tore the extracted blade from his hand. Spinning fast while advancing he moved out of the crosshair of several more shots. Grabbing a nearby dinner fork from the floor he hurled it with great precision.

A gasp and a thud.

It was over.

::: Kinneas to the bridge.  Re-supply at space station k-7 underway. ::   K'Suan'Indra said.  She was another related story altogether.

Jogging from the holosuite, Kinneas ran to his quarters to quickly shower and report for duty.

Title: Re: Onboard the UFP DevilFish
Post by: K'Suan'Indra on 12 March 2008 07:59 PM
  She could not help but to sigh at this moment in time. Eyes narrow as she scans over the wreckage that was once called the mess hall.
  "Kinneas to the bridge, Re-supply at space station K-7 underway", fingers lifting off the comm button near the doorway. It was not like her to shift duty off onto another, but this had to be dealt with, and dealt with quickly.
  "I suggest that next time you have far too much testosterone brewing in your system, you escort yourself to the holodeck, yes?" brows arched as she looks towards the chef and his newly conscripted 'apprentice'. Not waiting for a reply, she starts tapping into her handheld, adding two tables and accompanying chairs to the already-bloated supply order.
  <q> "The Captain will have a fit..." a shoulder leaning into the doorframe, focusing on the task at hand.
Title: Re: Onboard the UFP DevilFish
Post by: BLZBUB on 16 March 2008 05:30 PM
 Rogers thought that perhaps it was his half-Romulan ancestry that effected him at moments like this, but this particular Vulcan had seemed to rub him the wrong way from their very first meeting. Whispering aside to chef Rybeck, David snorted; "I think this officer is a little too much into herself for a Vulcan."

"A holodeck Ma'am?" David asked jokingly. "Is that what Vulcans use in this Quadrant? I would think a workout in the real world would be more beneficial."

 Ignoring her pre-occupation with the data padd, Roger's continued with the taunt. In no way was he about to acknowledge her seemingly Vulcan superiority, and he thought perhaps it was time to see who was the more capable.

"Perhaps you would like to shed some of your own testosterone ma'am? What say you to an assault on a cliff face on Risa? Just you and me? I warn you though, I am fitter than I look at the moment!"

Placing his hands on his hips, Roger's stared the challenge directly into her eyes, ignoring the warning hand chef Rybeck was placing on his shoulder.

"What say you, Sir? I'll take any conditions you need to equalize the climb for you!"
Title: Re: Onboard the UFP DevilFish
Post by: Kinneas on 16 March 2008 06:46 PM
: Kinneas strolled into the mess hall and assessed the situation.

One did not need to be a counselor to spot posturing, closed arms in defensive positions or totally unguarded facial expressions.

Eyes narrowing a moment, he knelt down to pick up a fork from the floor.

He had not met the new cook personally yet and did not yet understand the relationship between the V.I.P. guest and the new hire.

One thing was certain. They were giving the stink eye to K'Suan'Indra' and there was a thousand years worth of dead beings who had made that mistake before.

Kinneas smiled and blew away a stray tendril of hair that fell before his steely blue eyes.

"Boy what a mess. "  He smiles while advancing. The tines of the fork catching the light.  "Hi. I'm Kinneas, builder of this ex militia, now media ship. I'm also it's first officer and part of the broadcasting team.  Nice to meet you."

Title: Re: Onboard the UFP DevilFish
Post by: K'Suan'Indra on 16 March 2008 11:17 PM
  She gives a sideways glance towards Kinneas and the fork, a bit of a snicker eminating from her throat. "I do not think that implement is necessary here. They only have one head each."
  Emerald eyes then settle back onto the "apprentice" and the underlying hostility radiating from him. She takes a few steps towards him, inclining her head in a benign fashion. "My concern is for the safety and financial stability of this ship, and that cannot happen if anger and pent-up rage take over and blow a hole in the side of the ship, unless your 'floating-out-in-space-without-any-life-support-systems' is equal to your boasts of climbing sheer face cliffs. On that accord, your challenge is accepted." That gained Rogers a flash of a grin before she turned upon a booted heel, handheld downloading the new supply order for the Captain's approval.
Title: Re: Onboard the UFP DevilFish
Post by: BLZBUB on 22 March 2008 03:48 PM
 David couldn't quite follow what the relationship was between the Vulcan and the new addition to the room. It wasn't intimacy, and it wasn't hostility either. The "One head each" remark was totally lost on him as she took a couple steps toward him

 "But then again' he thought, 'Emotions like that were alien concepts to a Vulcan'.

 Her slight grin as she accepted his challenge took him by surprise. David had never been able to trust these ancestral relatives of his anyway, but a Vulcan who could show...or fake...emotion as she just had, had to be one to watch out for. Any thought of a reply to her acceptance was cut off as she abruptly turned and left the room, to be replaced by the blue-eyed countenance of the most recent spectator.

David had been watching the fork surreptitiously when the man had introduced himself. The part about "First Officer" had not escaped his attention.

"Uh...nice to meet you as well Sir!", he responded, and held his hand out to accept the miscreant fork.