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Syndicate Pragmatism

Posted on Wed Mar 22nd, 2023 @ 6:51pm by Ensign Sheldon Parsons & Lieutenant Charles Bridgeport & Lieutenant Xex Wang & Lieutenant Timmoz & Lieutenant JG Irynya

Mission: Predators and Prey
Location: The Waverider
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 1150

[The Waverider]
[Skies of Shaddam IVa]
[MD 1: 1150 Hours]

Bridgeport had done it. Ordered to return to the Waverider, make contact with the Sojo, and then return for a pick-up, the security officer had -- ostensibly -- accomplished all three, having sent a probe up into orbit before heading to retrieve his comrades from the possible clutches of the Kazon. Thankfully the Waverider had been able to scoop everyone up before the muddy-faced adversaries could intervene and was now headed back in the direction of Base Camp. It was a 15 minute flight back, which would afford time for the injured Kazon Kaldri to be more thoroughly treated in the craft's miniature Sick Bay while Timmoz and the others discussed all that had happened.

Hauled aboard from the dubious support of the emergency ladder by the willing hands of his shipmates, Xex had paused for only a moment, drinking in grateful gulps of air. The Waverider's regulated atmosphere was akin to breathing soup after the thin, particulate-ridden air of the moon, and he took full advantage of it. As a bonus side effect, when he rolled to his knees to check on Kaldri, it gave him plenty of oxygen with which to swear fluently and creatively when he found that the increased respiratory rate he'd heard from her was accompanied by a twitching of Kaldri's extremities.

During the discussion, Charles began taking care of Security business. Weapons Shields and all things tactical. Then he started looking for the enemy!

Xex didn't even bother checking his tricorder as he barked, “She's dropping into hypoxic shock. Get her on the biobed! We've got to get some fluids in her-- I don't know what I can synthesize here, but anything is better than what she's got now, which is next to nothing.” With practiced precision, he directed his ad hoc helpers to get her lifted and secured to the biobed against any potential maneuvers.

Timmoz panted against teh deckplate for fresh air- a feel that reminded him all too much of the agonizing vacuum hypoxia he'd experienced on the Bridge. His first voice was hoarse, and then he raised it. He pushed up on to lanky arms, "Go. Go to battlestations. Secure your positions. Parsons, you're re-promoted to Nurse. Help Xex."

The Orion tapped his commbadge shakily, "Irynya. Climb. Bridgeport, man the weapons. Shields up." He lifted up onto unsteady legs and unceremoniously did as Xex demanded. He grabbed the Kazon by her boots and started to drag her toward the bio-bed, his eyes searching for Oliveria or Parsons to help him lift.

“Im two steps ahead of you.” Bridgeport yelled back.

"Carefully," Xex exhorted the Orion, though he only seemed to be able to spare half of his attention for the actual movement of the Kazon. Apparently he felt speed was more important than attentiveness.

Parsons wasn't the best of climbers, not even on a ladder, but he'd made the ascent and then settled himself at an auxiliary console during the ride to pick up Timmoz and the others. With them now back on board -- and the green skinned pilot issuing orders over the comm -- the young engineer rose from his station and made his way into the back of the craft. Doing as he was told, Sheldon moved to assist in carrying Kaldri to the Waverider's Sickbay, nodding to Timmoz as he bent to lift the woman from behind her head and torso. Shuffling as quickly as he could in concert with the Orion, he helped hoist the Kazon up onto the bio bed before stepping back, folding his arms as he watched Xex get to work.

With the biobed's more precise and advanced diagnostics now at his disposal, Xex began running through potential synthetic blood-substitutes, as well as some more sophisticated repairs to her damaged tissues; he suspected some of his field first aid was hardly holding up to the pressures they had put it under first trekking and then climbing for their lives. As he worked, he braced himself into the console corner with the practiced ease of someone well acquainted with small-vessel travel.

"Do we know why they're chasing her?" Parsons asked, looking Kaldri over as Xex ran through his ministrations. While he didn't feel it was appropriate to voice such, the engineer secretly hoped the reason was a good one given that they were now being chased as well.

Timmoz, hastened as they got Kaldri on the biobed, glanced at Parsons. "I'm not sure the Kazon need ironclad reasons for violence, Ensign. We learned we are on some kind of... sacred planet to this new Maje."

Xex glanced up from the control panel across which his fingers were flying, pausing only briefly. "And apparently they don't take kindly to 'no' for an answer to the question, 'join us in a nonconsensual capacity,'" he added to Timmoz's explanation.

Up in the cockpit, Irynya had dropped smoothly into the pilots seat, taking over the controls from Bridgeport and rapidly running flight checks and other necessary processes for keeping the small vessel off the ground while staying within the atmosphere. Though her instinct was to keep them within the atmosphere--there were, after all, still a great number of their crew mates on the ground, stranded if they didn't come get them--she did as she was told and for a brief moment the gravitational stabilizers fought the new rapid degree of rise, giving everyone the slightly uncomfortable feeling of the floor falling out from underneath them before the Waverider adjusted. It was momentary, but Irynya's forehead creased into a deep frown. This was new technology. That shouldn't have happened. "Climbing to 20,000 feet," she called, voice level as she thumbed the comm system to broadcast the report rather than yell it.

Bridgeport began scanning the area for the Kazon. The atmospheric problems were numerous but he hoped scanning for tachyon emissions might even thing's out a bit.

A sharp intake of breath and jerk of his hands as he braced himself was all Xex had time for as the Waverider dropped out from beneath him, and then adjusted. "Stars," he muttered, recalculating his game plan to include such maneuvers. Though the lack of inertial dampening was a surprise on a rig as advanced as the Waverider, he'd never been one to to let his expectations get in the way of reality. "Can we do it with consistent gravity?" he shouted through towards the cockpit, having both a lack of hands to utilize the comm, and a serious need to simply shout. He clearly didn't expect an answer; he was already glancing away from the console long enough to assure himself that Timmoz and Parsons were managing to wrestle Kaldri's unresisting weight onto the biobed. He spared an extra moment to flick his gaze over the equipment's controls before pointing them out to his newly re-promoted helper, "Secure her. The last thing we want is her flung nilly willy around the place."

Parsons had barely held on himself. Owing to the fact that maneuvering in an atmosphere was much different than flying through space, it'd been a challenge to recover himself after the engineer's stomach had dropped out from under him. But quick hands had grabbed the biobed and held himself steady until their flight evened out. With a nod to Xex's order, Parsons activated the biobed's forcefield restraints, ensuring Kaldri would stay perfectly adhered to the medical bed, even if Irynya started putting them through loop de loops.

The doctor turned his attention back to the console; now that the woman was on the bed, it was able to make some more in-depth diagnostics about her physical and mental functions. Using that data, he began running a series of quick-and-dirty simulations, muttering to himself about hemoglobin carriers and blood-aggregates. Amongst the medicalese, he could even be heard to say, "How the holy hell did we run into Kazon of all people?" And then, quieter, “Stars, I wish Marwol was here.”

Xex's shoulders rose, then fell again within the thermal suit he still wore, and when he turned from the console, his silvery features were composed. “Alright ensign, I've managed to mock up a Kazon atmosphere for her-- it's a little richer in Nitrogen than most humanoids prefer but--” he broke off then, and shook his head sharply. Parsons didn't need to know the particulars. “It should help. She doesn't have enough blood, so if we can get her a more rich atmosphere to breathe, it should keep her brain function healthy until we can get some fluids in her. Get that mask on her,” he indicated one of the differently-shaped breathing masks stored beneath the bed, “and secure it, for Sun's sake. For now, your only job is to make sure she is breathing that atmosphere and only that atmosphere.”

Parsons nodded to Xex and did as he was told, grabbing the mask and adhering it tightly but not too tight. "The oxygen and nitrogen mixture is flowing," he confirmed audibly, watching as Kaldri's body seemed to calm itself as she autonomically breathed deeply of the air pooling in her mask. Standing idly by at this point, the engineer focused on the bio bed's readouts, keeping an eye on the Kazon's blood oxygen level as Xex continued to work.

“Now,” Xex turned back to the console, “Computer. Run vital xenofluid match algorithm Wang Gamma Four with all Sojourner crew.” The computer chimed affirmatively and threw up a task-bar graphic onto one of the screens. While it worked, Xex bent to riffle through some of the compartments below the console, in which were a variety of vials and beakers, some empty, some already full of nameless liquids and powders. He selected a variety of small vials, which he then began slotting into purpose-built niches set into the side of the biobed.

As the doctor worked to stabilize Kaldri, things were heating up in the cockpit. Warning bleats suddenly came from multiple sources at once, including the tactical console, engineering, and the helm.

“Found em. Everybody not busy doing something should strap in. Looks like they are trailing us. About four minutes behind us and gaining fast. Get ready for a fire fight.” He yelled.

The proximity alert that had alerted Bridgeport of the incoming Kazon had risen at almost the exact moment the Waverider's helm panel lit up with warnings. Forehead creasing in concentration, Irynya's fingers flew across the panel, pulling up the details and adjusting a few elements before following Bridgeport's shout. She tabbed open the comm again, not trusting her own raised voice to not get lost amidst the hubbub. "Sensors are reporting a dust storm at base camp. Winds speeds are intense, but the size of the storm doesn't make sense for the intensity. It's isolated just at base camp and the surrounding area." She paused, crease deepening between her eyebrows, making her ja'risia crinkle slightly. Noah and Kestrel had both been assigned to the base camp group. Looking at the winds themselves she hoped they'd found shelter. "Landing is going to be rough. Seconding Lieutenant Bridgeport on strapping in if you can." She thumbed the comms off again, fingers once again flying she she input minute changes in their trajectory, trying to factor in the storm before they reached it's gust front. As an afterthought she thumbed the comm one more time. "Can't promise anything on the gravity once we hit the wind, Doc."

"We've got another problem," came the voice of Oliveria then. "We've got a build up of this damned dust all over the hull. It's sticking to us like maple syrup," he said, his mind momentarily flashing back to a stack of Debbie's flapjacks positively coated in the shiny brown stuff. "And what's worse, it's not just outside. The stuff is getting into the thruster manifolds. We're loosing speed," the engineer reported.

"Tu xoquaan booksa," Timmoz muttered in his tongue. "Alright. What if we polarize the hull plates? Reverse the cling?" Timmoz suggested.

"It's worth a try," Oliveria called back, getting to work.

In the little niche carved out for the biobed, Xex's eyes flicked once toward the corridor forward to the cockpit, from whence the warnings came, even if they were transmitted over the comm. That small motion coupled with a very calm, "Fuck," was all the doctor's reaction, the rest of his attention taken up by the computer chiming its completion of the simulation.

Xex ran his gaze over the results-- however rusty his field-medic skills were, this treatment, at least, was solidly in his wheelhouse. Whatever it was he saw in the results brought a feral grin to his silvery features. "Gotcha," he said, sharing the grin with Parsons. He tapped in a few more commands, and the little niches in the biobed's side began to glow a pulsing yellow.

While the system synthesized what he had dialed up, Xex had a spare moment to tap his commbadge, "Helm, how long until you have to throw us around some more?"

Up in the cockpit Irynya growled at the controls in front of her before slapping the comm open to respond. "60 seconds. No more..." she snapped out before slapping the comm again and returning her focus to the shuttle controls. The storm was visible now in front of her, looming like a wall that she was pointing them directly toward.

Xex grunted, tapping his fingertips along his thigh, as though counting. Before he finished, the little vial niches glowed green and he lunged for the vials, transferring them to the bed's IV ports. "Well, it sure as hell isn't Kazon-- I couldn't get the erythropoietin receptors exactly right, and I'm pretty sure the plasma ratio is off-- but it should be fine with that supplemental air," he told Parsons as he fiddled with the biobed's settings. "Turns out Klingons have a pretty close amino blood signature to the Kazon." He held up a finger, "Not exact, mind. I had to add in some human and Tellarite-- did you know you had a Tellarite on the crew?-- but I think it might just do to bring her blood volume up to a level where her own body can take over."

The Waverider shook violently and Xex was nearly thrown to the side, his white-knuckled grip on the edge of the biobed the only thing saving him. "You'd best strap in," he advised Parsons, "The IV should hold through any maneuvers, and that's more important than the air right now." He took his own advice albeit poorly, wedging himself into a corner where he could monitor the bed and its patient.

"Understood," Parsons said, nodding to the Doctor. Instead of securing himself into a jumpseat, though, the engineer headed for the rear of the craft and opened an access panel. Beneath thrummed the craft's engines and, just as Oliveria had said, the pervasive dust infused with that strange alloy had indeed gotten inside. "Chief," he called up to Nico, "we're going to need to flush this stuff out as soon as we get back to the Sojo. It's really mucking it up in there," he reported.

"Do your best for now," Oliveria called back. "Clean out what you can and then keep an eye out."

"On it," Parsons promised, moving off to fetch an engineering toolkit so he could get to work.

Meanwhile, back at the biobed, Kaldri's eyes suddenly opened. She found herself restrained atop the table, a mask affixed to her face as the biobed fed medicines into her body. "What's happening?!" she demanded to know from Timmoz, eyes wild as the ship once again dipped, the sensation of her stomach going up into her throat prevalent. She couldn't see the doctor from her position but she asked anyway. "Am I going to be alright?" She strained against the restrictive field, trying to get up.

"Not if you struggle!" Timmoz barked, edged yet still oddly smooth in delivery. "The fields so you don't roll off the bed like the rest of us are doing!" He said as he too had had to brace. "If you die, its because we blow up!"

Gritting his teeth, Xex shot Timmoz a hard look. "Let's maybe not get ahead of ourselves, Lieutenant?" he suggested through his teeth. He waited an extra heartbeat for the artificial calm of the Waverider maneuvering in a quick surge that left them all briefly weightless, then shoved himself forward to brace against the edge of the biobed, bringing his silvery features into Kaldri's field of vision. "You're going to be fine," he assured her, his voice not even shaking. It had dropped into that pleasant bedside timbre both common to medical professionals, and jarringly out of place amidst the shuttle's frantic, harried flight. It was impossible to tell if he was lying or not. "Our pilot is currently involved with avoiding those unfriendlies you warned us about, and we didn't want you thrown off the bed. Relax; you're probably in the safest place on this ship right now. I'm just replacing some of your lost blood and the treatment isn't quite finished yet."

Xex's eyes shifted to one of the bed's monitors and they flickered as he read through the information there. His expression didn't change one whit in reaction to what he read, though his fingers did tighten briefly on the side of the bed. "Now I'm going to remove that breather so you can be a bit more comfortable, alright?" He waited for the minuscule signs of her-- well, not precisely relaxing-- but straining less frantically against the restraints before he reached with surreal slowness across to remove the mask.

"Now," he continued briskly, as though the ship weren't juking and jiving around them, causing him to grimace and brace every few seconds, "If you had any further information about our pursuers that might give us an edge," he forced his gritted teeth to relax and favored her with a winning smile, "We'd be most interested to hear it."

Kaldri stared up from her restrained position, thankful Xex had moved into her sight lines. Beneath her icy, jagged facade, the Kazon had been afraid her injuries from the crash would get the better of her. What luck she'd had in running into a doctor of all people. It certainly beat the alternative of dying alone out in the woods. Her thankfulness at avoiding that particular fate loosened her tongue and Kaldri nodded at Xex's encouragement to give up more details about their aggressors.

"They are pretty upset at me," she began, feeling the ship jostle around her. "It's entirely possible I killed the Maje's second for his...aggressive hands," Kaldri alluded, steel at her decision to dispatch the man flashing in her eyes. "Given that Tedron was also Subrek's brother, you can see why they want me dead. I'm sorry you've all been pulled into this," she said, meaning it.

"I'm not," Xex replied without missing a beat. "I wouldn't have met you otherwise." Despite the desperate situation, the wild maneuvers and enemy fire, it sounded entirely genuine. His gaze slid away from hers for a moment, checking the monitors again. Apparently satisfied, he returned his attention to her to ask, "And what about their capabilities? Is there any weakness or constraint on their ship that we could exploit to ensure they don't finish what they started with you--" he paused, letting a wry smile twist his lips, "and us?"

The sentiment from the doctor was, it seemed, appreciated. Kaldri's gratitude came in the form of a nod rather than a responding gush of emotional words but as nods went, it was an emotionally infused one, at least. To the doctor's pair of questions, the Kazon could offer only a shrug. "They've been out here for years, mostly unheard from until recent raids on the outskirts of Kazon space. I was trying to find out how they became so powerful. I'm afraid I didn't get very far in discerning that from Tedron." Again she named the First Maje's brother and lieutenant. Had he been the in-road she'd been trying to leverage?

Timmoz, his own teeth gritted behind a mostly vanished Cluros, let the doctor play the Good cop interface. As the shuttle passed through an ionic thermal layer, its jostled. He swayed with it.

Up in the cockpit, meanwhile, Bridgeport's console lit up again. There was, somehow, an incoming message...

“Stop your grinding and drop your linen. We got in coming messages and it looks like it’s coming from the Sojo.” As he read the message there was no mistaking its content. “We are ordered to get the way team back to the ship. AndI mean everybody. They are even sending a couple more shuttles to accomplish the task.” As he conducted another tactical sweep. He forwarded the message to the pilots console.

"I'll take it back here," Timmoz said even as he intercepted it. He braced on the wall of the Sickbay alcove and tapped in his command codes. "Orion Palace to Sojourner. We are under hostile threat and possible comm monitoring. Scramble to Codec Adelphi-3." Timmoz waited for the Captain's face to appear, replacing the Delta of Starfleet. His own green features were highlighted in the flashes of red.

"Lieuten...mmoz, it's a relief...hear from..." Captain Kodak's face faded in and out of bursts of static that broke up his words as well. "What's...status?" the Chameloid asked, golden eyes full of concern.

"They're relaying comms through our probe, which is lodged between atmospheric thermal layers," Oliveria shouted from upfront, hands working his console frantically as he tried to clear the static. "I'm trying to boost the signal but we won't have comms for long," the engineer warned.

"This thing has probes," Timmoz countered to Nico. "Launch another one!" He turned back to the voice of the ship's Captain. "Status red alert, at battlestations. Kazon discovered moonside. One to immediate Sickbay when in Transporter range. Recommend abandoning the rest of the Away mission. Need to retrieve other teams."

The ship shook as another probe launched. "Sending this one up high enough to act as a relay," Oliveria called back from the cockpit. "It'll help for a minute or two but the signal degradation will amp up the further away we get. Talk fast," he urged.

As the probe climbed, the signal did, indeed, clarified. Kodak appeared on screen much more clearly now. "We've got Kazon up here, too. They're pretty unhappy that we tried to intervene in their attack on a shuttlecraft. Our away team has also apparently violated their sacred ground," he said, his words no longer mangled by static. "We've disabled their weapons for the time being but I don't know for how long. Timmoz," Kodak's golden eyes grew very serious, "I want you to get everyone back aboard and break for orbit as soon as possible. Once you're clear of the atmospheric interference, we can initiate that medical transport. I'm afraid there isn't much else we can do from orbit for now."

The Orion weighed Syndicate pragmatism and how to possibly thread that through a Starfleet needle. "We're Bunja-gone from Kazon space. Maybe they should put out beacons." He looked back at Xex and their patient. "Angry or not, that would be our medical transport. We'll do what we can. We're heading for the base camp now. We have Kazons in pursuit." And it was Timmoz's turn to look serious, "If they become a problem, we'll defend ourselves. Waverider out."

Timmoz eyed Xex and Kaldri, "I have to get to the cockpit," he stated. And the rangy Orion moved quickly, taking the short stairs to the midsection in twos.

Parsons, meanwhile, had been busy. Wedged in a small jeffries tube that led to the port thruster assembly, the engineer reached up to wipe some sweat from his forehead as he spoke. "Polarizing the hull seems to be preventing new build up of the dust," he reported over the comm. "But there's so much already built up in the engines. There's not a lot I can do while the engines are running hot like this. You're going to have to do the best you can with reduced engine output, Iry. Sorry I can't be more help back here, Chief," he said to Oliveria.

"Understood, ensign," Oliveria responded. He'd figured that, with the engines actively in use, they might be constrained in what they could accomplish while in flight. Nico just hoped they'd have a little more luck than they did, apparently. "Have we got enough engine function to get back up to the Sojo once we pick everyone up?" he asked, turning to look at Irynya.

The Risian was already halfway into calculating that exact thing when the Oliveria asked and she gritted her teeth as she did. "Yes. If we aren't being chased, and everyone is relatively close together, then we can make it back to the Sojo. But don't count on the Waverider being much faster than what we're currently doing. If we need to dodge anyone else..." she let that sentence go and turned back to her controls, adjusting a few more details as the count down to impact with the storm ran down to single digits.

“Ok, heads up guys. Our visitors are still pursuing us, but they must be having engine problems too. They aren’t getting any closer, but they are 3 and a half minutes behind us. I’m tactical scanning to make sure there’s nothing in front of us.” Said Bridgeport.

Timmoz appeared in the cockpit by the time Bridgeport spoke. He braced at another thermal layer wave of turbulence. "Start pulling power where you need to get us to our teams, they're probably spread out. But reserve enough to get to the Sojourner. What's our first location?" Timmoz asked even as he bent to check the computer readout himself. His eyes surveyed the closest parties. And he had a decision to make. "Load aft torpedoes." He told Bridgeport.

What if they weren't all near the base camp?

The panel shrieked at a warning of a strange storm front. "Hold on!" Timmoz shouted back.

Teeth once again gritted tight, Irynya's fingers practically flew. The wind sheer that had been mounting turned from a rumble to a roar and a gale at the edge of the storm tried to tip the Waverider on its end despite all of her stabilizing technology. The deck of the vessel began to tilt, nose upward, as Irynya fought to bring her back down and level. "Base camp is closest," she managed to call out, "but we're looking at extremely low visibility. I'll have to set her down fully."

"Do it," Timmoz agreed after like the pilot he'd recovered from a harsh jostle. "Life forms? Can we detect anyone down there?"

Brow creased in concentration Irynya tuned out as much as she reasonably could. Landing sensors confirmed that there was a space large enough to land and that their people were clear of that spot. Beyond that it was taking all of her concentration to counteract the storm. "Reducing altitude," she advised anyone who might be listening.

Oliveria had given Timmoz a nod at the order to transfer and optimize power. Given that they were now in the middle of a crazy dust storm, the Waverider's landing thrusters and attitude stabilizers were going to need more than their fair share of juice. "Parsons, get back to the cockpit," he ordered over comms, "I want you to work on the power management side of things while I focus on system monitoring."

"Understood," came Parsons' combadged reply.

It was as if a warning bell went off in his head. Bridgeport stood up and went to the equipment locker. He opened it and drew out a new breather full face mask with full air supply. He found some cutting implements and Machete and a large knife. God only knows how it got there, but he was glad it was. He thought to himself. His crew were in danger and he was security.

“Sir, let me go and find our people.” He said directed at the team leader. “I’m Security it should be my job.” Offered Bridgeport as he continued to dress for the conditions outside the Waverider.

"Waverider," Timmoz stated nonchalantly toward the replicator. He smiled Cluros at the Security Officer, raising his eyebrow. After a pregnant moment, Timmoz passed by the man. He opened a second, smaller compartment for a mask. "A Mek'taj. Single-handed configuration. Authorization Timmoz-Koh-Undat-4-1-Ja'had." The replicator wisped into life a Klingon looking weapon similar to a Mek'leth but smaller. As his face lit up from the radiance of thee synthesis. He spoke to Bridgeport, "Irynya, myself and you will fan out and try to locate the parties. Shelter them back here as quickly as possible. I don't know how much you'll need those," he gestured at his own machete-like device and the one Bridgeport had.

“I suggest we scan for the equipment they are using. That may give us a better signal.” Replied Bridgeport.

As Parsons returned to the cockpit and took his seat, Oliveria nodded to Bridgeport. "Good thinking. I'm on it, Iry," he commented to their pilot, who had quite enough to be dealing with on her plate already. Tapping his fingers across the LCARS interface, he brought the Waverider's sensors to bear on the surrounding area. It took several long moments before he reported what he saw.

"Picking up three sets of Federation energy signatures," Nico said, eyes dancing across the displayed information. "One below...the base camp survey team, I'd guess. Looks like someone may have gotten separated, though. Another set of signatures is approaching from the southern edge of the storm: that'd be the coral forest survey team," he wagered given t'Nai's announced assignments before they'd left. "Last set is to the north -- that abandoned complex," Oliveria reported.

As they neared the ground the wind seemed as if it was working for them rather than against them, driving downward against the Waverider so that Irynya was now working not to keep them from flipping, but from reaching the landing point too quickly. "500 meters," she called out the reading from her console. "250..." A beat and another flurry of adjustments. "100..."

Another pause and with a loud whumph that reverberated through the deck plating, they were back on the ground.

"Waverider, secure. Auto-pilot mode. Set for launch and return to Sojourner on my comm signal. Authorization Timmoz Koh-Undat-4-1-Ja'had." The runabout like yacht chirped, the silvery sheen of the LCARS pulses blinking with a series of keys that indicate3d, "Autopilot engaged, Standing By..." Timmoz eyed Irynya and Bridgeport.

"Lets find our people," he said. "Mr. Bridgeport," he gestured at the side exit and ramp off the cockpit.

"In the meantime," Oliveria nodded to Timmoz, "Parsons and I will keep a watch on things here. Be safe out there," he said to the trio, though it was on the Verdant One that his eyes lingered. "Those Kazon are still out there," he warned with more than a hint of concern in his voice. "And given that we've violated their sacred ground and have their prisoner in our Sickbay, I'm betting they're going to be a problem..."

"Good luck," Parsons said from an auxiliary panel. The words were stiff and crisp -- an accompanying tonal indicator revealing the nervousness and anxiety he was feeling. "Not dying would be a very good thing, I think," he offered a wan smile that was entirely too forced.

With a final exchange of nods, the trio exited the ship, leaving Oliveria, Parsons, Xex, and Kaldri onboard and on standby for their return, hopefully with the rest of the Away Team in tow...

=/\= A joint-post by... =/\=

Lieutenant Charles Bridgeport
Chief Tactical/Security Officer

Ensign Sheldon Parsons
Engineering Officer

Lieutenant Irynya
Secondary Flight Controller

Lieutenant Nico Oliveria
Chief Engineer

Lieutenant Timmoz
Primary Flight Controller

Lieutenant Xex Wang
Chief Medical Officer

Shuttle Crash Survivor (NPC'd by Brad)


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