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Tyvya Idrani

"Duty. Honor. And a bucket of, shall we say, butt kicking. Shall we go, Captain?"

0 · 317 views · located in USS Albion NCC-6212-A

a character in “Star Trek Cold Front”, as played by WendyDarling

Description

Tyvya Idrani

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Character Information
Name: Tyvya Idrani (her full namesong is almost unpronounceable)
Position: Chief Security/Tactical Officer
Rank: Lieutenant Commander
Gender: Female
Species: Andorian
Age: 27
Place of Birth: Andor, the Bish'ee region.

Physical Appearance
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 140 lb.
Hair Color: White.
Eye Color: Blue.
Physical Description:
Tyvya prefers simple, functional clothing that can take a lot of wear and tear when not on duty. She has no visible scars or piercings, but she does have a small tattoo that she got on a bet at the Academy. Copious amounts of alcohol were involved. Her hair is worn in a loose fashion unless she is heading into serious combat or a duel, when she will put it up. Her skin is a pale blue, her antennae straight and near the front of her head. Her build is strong and tall, with generous curves proportionate to her size that are nonetheless taut with muscle.

Family:
Spouse: n/a
Children: n/a
Father: Thanaschal ch'Zarath, Shelerib th'Rothress
Mother: Lissal sh'Cheen, Tallara zh'Vorothishria
Brother(s): none.
Sister(s): none.
Other Family: Tyvya is part of an extended clan of relatives, whom she has fought with and against for her whole life.

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General Overview:
Tyvya is not very sociable and is quite controlled, naturally. Starfleet has taught her that a certain amount of mingling with the crew is good for morale and a certain amount of social skills are required to move up the ranks, so she has become more talkative, if somewhat curt at times when she's trying to get work done or has to mediate between crew members. Rules are to be followed, especially those that pertain to the safety of the crew, and Tyvya will take no nonsense when it comes to risky or foolish behavior when she gets involved with it. April Fool's Day is a bane of her existence. Valentine's Day, and some of the more fickle romantic dramas on board amuse or disgust her, depending on the situation. Romance, like life, is not something to be trifled with, but to be entered with passion and commitment.

She reveres ability in combat and leadership skills over everything else, and does her best to make her skills in those areas the best they can be. Crew members that meet or, even better, are superior in a certain martial skill are respected and appreciated as opponents in her combat training. Combat is, for her, the most enjoyable thing in her life, especially in a hard-fought battle, whether it's for real or in training. When Tyvya isn't training or working, she's practicing her music. Former ships have had small orchestras on board, and she has been a proud member of several. Her current instrument, the violin, isn't quite good enough to use in a group so she practices it like she does everything else, vigorously and on a regularly scheduled basis.

Strengths & Weaknesses:
Strengths

  • Combat : excellent in hand-to-hand combat as well as with phasers.
  • Music : Competent in several instruments, mastered a few.
  • Andorian strengths : Stronger and hardier than humans, antennae that delivers sensory information such as sonar, resistance to certain environmental conditions (i.e., temperature)

Weaknesses

  • Social skills : most clever repartee, subtlety, and empathy is difficult for her. She can keep up with those conversations, as she is intelligent, but she has trouble participating or simply refuses to participate.
  • Andorian weaknesses : Antennae, if damaged, will throw her off in several ways and are very sensitive to pain, less stamina than humans when in strenuous activity for long periods.


Ambitions:
  • To ascend to up the ranks in Star Fleet and become at the very least, a Captain of her own ship.
  • To prove her clan's honor and excellence.



Hobbies and Interests:
  • Mastering various forms of Martial Arts, including a few Andorian variations as well as, most recently, Vulcan Suus Mahna and Human kickboxing.
  • Chess.
  • Learning and playing various musical instruments.
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History:
It is usual for Andorians who have reached Tyvya's age to have entered into a quad and produced as many children as possible. However, Tyvya chose to go to Starfleet Academy, potentially giving up any hope of having offspring. The government's research into pair-bonding as well as possible hybrids to fight against their struggles with infertility and population decline give her hope, but unlike many of her clan it does not define her. Starfleet Academy was an education in militaristic power in control, and Tyvya thrived in the competitive atmosphere. Her grades in strictly classroom assignments were usually not above competence, but she excelled in field exercises. Her family has not precisely disowned her, but they have abandoned hope that she will live life as a good Andorian Shen. The Albion is her home now, and she considers the crew like a sort of clan. For protecting, but not for tolerating ridiculousness.

Service Record:
(2392 - present)Chief Security Officer , USS Albion [Lieutenant, promoted to Lieutenant Commander in 2392]
(2386 - 2391) Assistant Chief Security Officer, USS Liberty Bell [Lieutenant JG, Promoted to Lieutenant in 2390]
(2385 - 2386) Security Officer, USS Virginia [Ensign, promoted to Lieutenant JG in 2385]
(2282 - 2385)Security Officer, USS Chesapeake [Ensign]
(2381 - 2382) Security Officer, USS London [Cadet, promoted to Ensign in 2382]

So begins...

Tyvya Idrani's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anthony Kell Character Portrait: Virana Kalre Character Portrait: Dorath Yevel Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani Character Portrait: Hannam Letant Character Portrait: Celeste Calhoun Character Portrait: R'Larn Character Portrait: Rilem Tariel Character Portrait: Dezhe Character Portrait: Dion Ral Character Portrait: Harper West Character Portrait: Ex'Ian
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#, as written by S1mon
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Captain Anthony Kell


Deck 2 - Captain's Quarters, USS Albion - 08:00

Captain's Log Stardate 68646.76,

As of now, it is 0-8 hundred hours (08:00) on the day that the Albion is due to depart from Starbase 84. I have sent a communique to each of the senior staff to congregate in the lounge at 13 hundred hours (13:00), the purposes of such is to get the member of staff together in a more relaxed environment, whether they agree or not is upto them, however I am confident in the team I have selected and that no matter what comes our way, the Albion will pull through. Not only am I confident in my staff, but also the ship itself which I have personally assessed myself in overseeing the finishing touches to this latest model of the Prometheus-class.

In 18 hundred hours (18:00), the Albion will be leaving Starbase 84 behind for its maiden voyage, but first I must report to Rear Admiral Kell. The Albion is my first command and yet we stand on the precipice where war may break out at any comment. It is my hopes that it will not result in war, but if such is the case then it will be the Albion that will be putting an end to their plans as well as the Task Force under my command. Already I have met with each of the commanders in my Task Force and have confidence in their abilities to aid us in this endeavour, whatever this may be.

Kell out.


Deck 9 - Lounge, USS Albion - 13:00

It was certainly questionable as to why Anthony had requested that all his senior staff meet up in the Officer Lounge. Originally, Anthony was planning for the meeting to take place in the Mess Hall, but with the crew now boarding to prepare for departure five hours from now, he changed his mind for the meeting to take place in the Lounge so that the meeting could be held in a more private setting. The Lounge still remained a questionable location for the staff meeting but Anthony had his reasons. When selecting his senior staff, Anthony took much time in reading each application in detail to make sure he chose the best for each role. However, he was concerned with how each of them would get along, hence his decision to have them all come together. It was less likely to be very accurate with the fact that they were in the presence of their captain but he could at least get a picture.

Anthony certainly ran things much more differently than other Starfleet Captains which also included his father. However, Anthony always had this more laid back approach, such that he had maintained throughout his career which had made him the man that he was today. Some would question his methods but there was as the idiom says, a method in his madness. Not that he thought his random decisions were mad, more unique and spontaneous, yet despite such from happening, he was a smart individual as he conveyed himself in one way, before acting in another which had proved to work well when he served as Acting Captain on the USS Galileo when he had to take command on occasion, such that had proved to show how tactical he was and why he was recommended to be in the position he was in now. There is always a reason.

Now all that remained was awaiting his crew as he sat in the lounge, relaxing in his chair. His first officer was a Romulan so he was certainly curious what she would perceive of this move, but it was intentional. It was the perfect atmosphere for them all to relax and get to know each other and may trigger what they may of hidden in a more formal setting, which was much more representative of how they would act when off-duty. Despite his precautions, Anthony hoped that they'd all be able to work well, but they were the best of the best out of all applications, so he only hoped that they'd put aside any issues they have or be mature about it and approach him with any concerns once this meeting was over. His yeoman was on stand-by so that the officers could book appointments with him, seeing as being Captain was a heavy responsibility that he would have to live up to....

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Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani
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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anthony Kell Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani
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Tyvya Idrani


Tyvya straightened her uniform, perfectly pressed and tailored to her statuesque frame. All of her personal items, few that they were, had already been placed into her quarters. It was a rather spartan room, but it suited her. Her instruments had not arrived yet, so she would have to find the right place for them later. Her tastes inclined towards the practical and the sturdy, so what stood out was a brightly colored glass vase, blown into an abstract style with tendrils that curled every which way. A gift, of course, from a friend at a previous post. A good friend, or she'd have already broken it "accidentally" to save time and trouble when moving from ship to ship.

Striding confidently down the corridors and up two lifts, she headed straight for the lounge on Deck 9. It wasn't really surprising that Captain Kell had chosen to do something different for his first staff meeting. To be more precise, it wasn't surprising that Kell had made such a choice--it was, however, slightly surprising that he had chosen to do so as the Captain of his own vessel. Kell had never been on the beaten track when it came to running his teams, but he had always been effective even when she disagreed with his random methods to bring his team together. Nonetheless, Tyvya was determined to do well in her new position as Chief of Security. Although Captain Kell had not been the most regulation officer on the Chesapeake, he had been a very good one, and she had enjoyed her time on his security team. Running her own team was something she'd been preparing for, and she looked forward to keeping the ship regulated as it should be. She hoped her new Assistant was up for the challenge. She had heard she was a Klingon, but that wasn't as issue for her. More importantly, could her Assistant Chief have her back and follow the rules? That remained to be seen, but she was resolved in giving her team the benefit of the doubt, at first. Betray her trust, however, and she had no mercy.

The lounge was a comfortably laid out space, as suited its purpose. The lights were just high enough to see everything but not as brightly lit as more functional parts of the Albion, like the bridge. Chairs were grouped in open circles, here and there, with tables in the middle. Refreshments were laid out on one long table near one larger group of chairs, and from what she could tell it varied enough for a decent amount of different palates. In Starfleet one had to learn to eat what one was given, especially at diplomatic functions, but she was pleased to see one or two things from her own homeland being offered as she walked into the room. She saw the Captain in a chair in that grouping, so she approached and paused in front of him. "Lieutenant Commander Tyvya Idrani, reporting for duty, sir," she said solemnly and accompanied it with a salute. Even if he wasn't formal, she had to observe the niceties. It was as much a part of her as her antennae.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anthony Kell Character Portrait: Virana Kalre Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani Character Portrait: Celeste Calhoun
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#, as written by Belynta
Virana Kalre

Virana Kalre stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of her new quarters and examined herself with a critical eye. She looked tired, not unexpected given the time it had taken to arrive at the station and then board the ship, but otherwise presentable. Her dark hair was swept away from her face as much as possible although a few stray locks persisted in falling around her eyes. Her uniform was clean and pressed as expected of any star fleet officer. All in all she decided she looked about as good as she was going to get. Not that she was here for her looks of course but when meeting your new captain for the first time one did not appear anything less than pristine. She walked into the living area of her quarters and took a quick glance around ensuring everything was unpacked and stored away. As yet she had little in the way of personal possessions other than a handful of things she had brought from Betazed.

Satisfied all was well she left her quarters and walked to the nearest turbolift which was thankfully only at the end of the corridor, several crew members were already inside though none senior staff. Virana nodded at them as they greeted her but otherwise she said nothing other than to state her destination. As the turbolift moved through the ship Virana mused on her new assignment and decided that so far she was impressed with what she had seen of the ship. Her quarters were larger than on her previous assignments, a courtesy of her new rank, and the Albion boasted an impressive sickbay among other things. Always handy when you were going into a possible battle situation. Of course the real test was when she came to view the craft her pilots would be flying, she had not as yet had a chance to inspect them. She wanted to take one through its paces before her team began their duties so she could see how they handled.

But first she had to meet the captain and the rest of the senior staff, she was not nervous having become used to meeting new people and she was confident that she would get along with most of them. The turbolift arrived and Virana stepped out into the corridor and walked the short distance to the entrance of the lounge. She hesitated a moment straightening her uniform and then walked in, head high and confidence in her every step. There was an unintentional swagger to her walk that she had gotten from years of working with pilots that gave her a somewhat cocky edge. She spotted the captain immediately recognising him from the image she had been sent. She saw that two others had arrived here before her, both female one human and the other Andorian from the looks of the antenna.

"Captain Kell, a pleasure to finally meet you." Virana walked over with a grin. "Lieutenant Commander Virana Kalre reporting for duty. If I may say Captain, its a pleasant change to meet somewhere less...formal."

She turned and addressed the others.
"Doctor, Lieutenant Commander."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anthony Kell Character Portrait: Virana Kalre Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani Character Portrait: Celeste Calhoun Character Portrait: Harper West
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The broad shouldered marine strode down the walkway with power and confidence. West stepped onto a turbolift, the doors closing behind him as he was lifted within seconds to deck 9. Earlier that morning he had been notified that all senior officers had to make a mandatory appearance in the lounge. So, as he stepped off the lift he placed his hands behind his back and made it down the short hall to the lounge. A woman had entered just moments before him, though he was unfamiliar with her name or rank. It didn't take him long to figure it out as she introduced herself to the captain as he entered the lounge silently.

"Lieutenant Commander Virana Kalre reporting for duty." The marine looked around the room as the Lieutenant Commander spoke, not bothering to listen to the rest of her introduction. It came time for West to step up and introduce himself to the captain. "Sir." His head nodded in acknowledgment and respect. "Marine Commanding Officer Harper West." His voice was monotone and brows furrowed to look serious. His body posture was rigid as he saluted the captain. A smile broke through, curving his lips as his shoulders shrugged and eyes softened. "You are much shorter and wider since we last met." The officer teased outstretching a hand for him to shake. As Kell's hand grasped his he laughed, patting a man's shoulder. "Look at you, captain. Congratulations." West stepped back, turning so that he faced the other Senior officers in the room. He gave them a simple nod of the head and a friendly smile before he took a seat in a white arm chair, crossing one leg over the other and resting his clasped hands in his lap.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anthony Kell Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani
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#, as written by Jill
Dezhe, daughter of Katogh, house of Targesh
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At first, Dezhe wondered if it was a prank. Captains did not informally meet with their senior officers in the Officer’s Lounge. She wouldn’t put it past some hateful person to try to get her in trouble in her first day on board the ship. From the moment she boarded she had received suspicious looks and even a few terrified ones. Already she had been stopped several times by lower ranked security crewmen, questioning her presence on the Albion. She had shown them her orders, which were very official as they had been signed by two more Admirals than the norm. Then, because she was technically their superior, she had barked at them and threatened action from Lieutenant Commander Tyvya Idrani herself.

That has scared the poor crewmen more than her own appearance, and they had scurried off. It was unfortunate that she had not yet met her boss however, as she didn’t know how her superior would react to her actions. She had intended to present herself to LC Idrani immediately upon boarding - even before finding her quarters - but some lackey had handed her the orders to go to the lounge instead. The poor yeoman had thrust the note into her hand without ceremony and had retreated into the lift.

Dezhe had to read the orders three times before she could consider believing they were real. She had found that the only way that humans and other Federation species would take her seriously was if she always followed correct and proper procedure. Anything too creative or thoughtful led them to think she was dangerous. It had become hard for her to consider any action too unconventional.

Better to be made a fool for acting than a fool for not acting. Dezhe thought. As always, her inner voice spoke in Klingon. She spoke English well enough, but she would never give up her mother tongue. Her spoken English had only the barest accent, but at the slightest provocation it seemed to turn into a growl. English itself seemed far too mushy in her mouth sometimes.

Having chosen her course of action she went in search of the Officer’s Lounge, hoping that eventually the crew would get used to her presence. On board the Albion for less than an hour and she was already tired of the fear and hate in the eyes of her supposed comrades. It had been bad on her other ships as well, but with the looming difficulties with the Klingon Empire she could only imagine it would get worse. She hoped that the officers of the Albion would be less biased based against Klingons - at least those who had proven themselves to be loyal to Starfleet.

When Dezhe reached the lounge on deck 9 she saw that several of her superior officers had already arrived and were milling around the room or sitting at one of the many chairs. Dezhe felt out of place among the careless finery. No Klingon ship would have a room like this, Klingons valued efficiency and usefulness. This space would be considered a waste. But, she could not expect her new shipmates to consider her a true Starfleet member if she did not learn their ways. At least she was wearing her uniform, her hair braided and tied back. One way to reduce hostility was to be precise in her actions. Dezhe walked over to the captain and though she was put off slightly by the casual manner in which he greeted the man who proceeded her, she snapped to a salute when Captain Kell turned his attention to her.

“Captain. Lieutenant Dezhe Katogh, reporting for duty.”

Once protocol was fulfilled she scanned the room to see if the Lieutenant Commander Tyvya Idrani had arrived. It was fortunate that she had received some details on her superior officer; the Andorian woman would be easy to spot in any crowd.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anthony Kell Character Portrait: Virana Kalre Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani Character Portrait: Hannam Letant Character Portrait: Celeste Calhoun Character Portrait: Erik Gunnarson Character Portrait: Dezhe Character Portrait: Harper West
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#, as written by Legate
Marine Captain Erik Gunnarson stepped through the hatchway and into the USS Albion for the first time. Looking around the docking bay he could see everyone in a rush to get all the final preparations for the ships launch finished. Spotting a crew member he went over to see if he can find out where his quarters are.

"Crewman, where would I find the officers quarters?" he asked

Without looking up the loader shot off a reply "Deck 5"

He collected his bags and went off to find his way to a turbo lift. He made his way to deck 5 and after a brief stroll he finally found his quarters. He entered and set his bags down and took his first look around his home for the next several years. Wellll shit he sighed I guess maybe I could get used to this. The cabin was about 4 times larger than any previous military quarters he'd ever had. As he looked around though he realized that this was just his sitting room, and that in fact there were several other rooms including a bedroom and his own bathroom. No more open concept showers for me, hell but if this isn't the life I don't know what is. Now that he thought about it his two duffel bags of possessions looked woefully inadequate to fill such a space. Oh well he thought. He set down his bags and opened them up, then he remembered he had a senior staff meeting in 5 minutes. Looking down at his civvies he figured he should change. Rummaging through his bag he finally found his Number 2's. They were still the SFOD-D issue, he hadn't had enough time to get his new uniform before they'd bundled him out as quickly as they possibly could. Bastards just didn't like being reminded of their mistakes he thought. Oh well he was just going to have to show up in this and be late to boot. Not that he was going to rush. He was a Captain with 10 years combat experience and be damned to showing up red faced and out of breath like a fucking rookie.

Changing into his Number 2's he remembered to affix his decorations and campaign ribbons as well as citations. All in all he thought they made quite a tidy number just under his left shoulder. Putting his cap under his shoulder tab he began making his way to the meeting. As he strode he was conscious of the looks he received. Well, he thought since I'm going to be changing uniforms soon might as well let them see what Special Forces look like. And he began to march, through the halls, looking neither left nor right, he strode as though there were no one else in the hallway.

When Finally he reached the meeting room he donned his cap complete with his previous units emblem. He buzzed the door then without waiting for a reply he sauntered into the room. As he entered he let his gaze roam around the room noticing who was in the room. He was almost the last person to arrive. When finally they came to rest on the Captain of the ship and his commanding officer his saunter was replaced by a crisp purely military salute as his hand came up and his feet crashed together.

"Marine Executive Officer Captain Erik Gunnarson, Reporting as ordered ... Sir" The almost-too-late "sir" was accompanied by a smirk so fleeting you might have missed it if you hadn't been watching for it.

He stood at Attention and waited for the Captain or Marine CO to speak

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani Character Portrait: Hannam Letant Character Portrait: Dezhe
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#, as written by Jill
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First Officer Hannam Letant entered the lounge only shortly after Dezhe, and the Klingon woman was relieved that their meeting had not been in the hallway. At least with this many witnesses there was little chance of a brawl should the two interact. The admiral who had given Dezhe her orders to report to the Albion had mentioned in passing that she might have some difficulty, but hadn’t explained this particular snag. Across all of Federation space there were reports of conflicts between Romulans and the few Klingons who had not retreated to the Empire.

Dezhe had been prepared for hostility, for people to fear her. She assumed that she would have the ability to work past that, to earn the trust of her fellow officers and the crew. Now, she wasn’t sure. Her instincts were telling her to attack first, while she had the element of surprise. Only her training kept her body from reacting at all. Absently she grabbed a glass from the bar and took a sip. The first officer was a Romulan. This would be a Gre'Thor of a duty. Though, she seemed to have not yet noticed Dezhe's presence - either the Romulan woman was ignoring her, or perhaps had not been briefed. Dezhe hoped that it was the former. Her bat'leth was still stored in her locker which had been shipped to the Albion, and her unseen quarters, yesterday.

baQa'. At least I’m not under her direct command. Dezhe thought to herself, taking another gulp of the “wine”. Human beverages were always so bland - even after imbibing some of the so-called potent blends Dezhe would barely get a headache.

A pale blue figure approached Dezhe and she put down her glass. I can only hope that Andorians don’t have a hatred of Klingons. Hu'tegh, I don’t think my people have done anything to them lately.

"Lieutenant Katogh, welcome to the Albion. I'm Lieutenant Commander Tyvya Idrani, Chief of Security."

“nuqneH, Lieutenant Commander.” Dezhe gulped at her misstep. It was so rare that she faltered these days, but seeing the First Officer had assuredly affected her. No one liked a Klingon speaking Klingonese - not even in the days of peace, not even a simple hello. She followed it with a more proper, Federation, reply, “Greetings, Lieutenant Commander. I was going to report to you immediately upon my arrival but received orders to come here first.”

Dezhe had found that deference had been key when addressing human superiors. They often felt intimidated by her size - even the few that had been taller than her often weighed less. Her size had made sparring difficult as she usually had to take it easy on fragile human bones. Just a small mistake could lead to broken bones in human physiology.

The Andorian woman was taller than her however, and well built. Dezhe could tell by her stance that Idrani had not earned her rank behind a desk. True warriors did not need false obeisance, and she had hated to act as such under her previous superiors. But they had been men, human men, with fragile egos. Women were made of stronger stuff, and it was apparently true in Andorians as well. Dezhe only hoped that she had not lost her chance at a good impression with her poorly timed Klingonese.

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Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani Character Portrait: Dezhe
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"Of course, Lieutenant" Tyvya nodded in approval. "The Captain has his own methods and a ship adjusts accordingly. It may not be protocol, but each Captain has their own way. What was that word you said, in Klingonese? I'm afraid languages were never my strong point at the Academy, to my regret. It is always useful to know the languages that are being spoken around you, for Security purposes. In addition," she added with a small, wry grin, "some of the curses are very useful in certain circumstances."

That was the truth, but not all of it. It was true that she did not have a gift for languages, however, it was an important part of her training and she had paid attention, especially to the languages of those worlds and races who were not allied with Starfleet, who could still pose a threat. Klingonese, then, she studied off and on, but never with any real aptitude, although she had picked up some of the more useful phrases concerning attacks and weaponry she had skimmed over the social bits. Should the Lieutenant prove trustworthy, her greeting would be taken for modesty, and if she weren't, it might give Tyvya the edge she needed to protect the Albion. It was nothing but the truth that curses in other languages were useful, as sometimes it was good to know how hard to throw someone in the brig--certain language, after all, deserved rougher handling, and a good curse was always excellent when on away missions.

Regardless of such tactical considerations, Tyvya thought even if she wasn't the most insightful person, her experience in the Security field had given her some tools for sizing people up. Those tools told her that Lieutenant was, if not completely trustworthy, at least worthy of a very good chance to become not only a good supporting officer. She was built like many Klingons, very solid and, Tyvya assumed, strong. "I may be taller than her, but I am not built with as much strength," Tyvya mused in her mind. "Andorians are strong, but as a Klingon she may present as an excellent partner for sparring."

As much as Tyvya loved to win her sparring matches, and had pride in her own strength, it was always invigorating to have a combat partner who had the edge in either size or strength. It forced her to think more and be better, rather than relying on her build alone. An honorable Klingon warrior at her back? A novelty, but it would keep her on her toes. Who knew? Perhaps Lieutenant Dezhe would prove not only a good officer on her team, but a trusted friend.

Tyvya looked askance at the food. It galled her to eat while in such a formal informal meeting, although her metabolism demanded it. A little hunger was hardly the worst thing she'd endured in Starfleet, and it wouldn't kill her. To satisfy protocol, as much as it could be in a situation like this, she would have to greet at least a few more of the crew before retreating to a chair to eat. Her manner of steady eating hardly encouraged conversation, although she was not averse to it, but with an Andorian metabolism it was best to eat as much as quickly as possible, without eating so much it took from others at the meeting. She disliked buffets for that reason, as otherwise she could simply order as much as she required and eat it without having to worry about dinner etiquette.

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Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani Character Portrait: Dezhe
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#, as written by Legate
After being dismissed, Captain Gunnarson wandered over to the bar briefly.

"Scotch and ice please"

As his drink was brought to him Erik surveyed the other Senior Officers. "Well, this is a diverse crew to say the least he thought to himself. He started chuckling as he saw the Klingon Security officer walk in. "Wonder how she gets along with our XO . He began to chuckle. His mirth was quickly stopped as he saw a Cardassian walk in. A grimace crossed his face as a sour rush of adrenaline shot through him. He tried to cover it by taking a sip of scotch. Of course right after he'd been laughing at the Klingon this would happen. His unconsciously shifted his right arm to a near vertical position by his side freeing up the hidden knife in his sleeve just more out of reflex than anything. He could stab with it, or if he let it drop to his hand he could throw it in 2 seconds. He knew where to aim, right for the heart. After a couple of seconds he shook his head. He'd spent too long in the Bajoran conflict to not respond that way. All too often Cardassian mercenaries or even regular forces had inflicted casualties in his unit. That's what came of trying to fight a covert war, you wound up in both sides cross-hairs. This man was a fellow officer though. Still, he was damned if he'd be taken off guard. Was he being somewhat paranoid? Maybe, but that was part of the reason he was still alive.

He watched the Andoran and the Klingon size each other up while trying to look like they weren't. That was interesting, he'd be at a bit of a disadvantage but either of them might make an interesting match up for sparring partners. As much as he wasn't too keen to take on a Klingon hand to hand it would probably be good prep in case things kicked off. Ah hell, might as well go over and introduce himself. At the very least it would mean that that damned Cardassian might not try and talk to him.

He walked over and saluted each of them briefly. A touch too formal but some habits are harder to break than others. He then shook hands as he introduced himself.

"Captain Erik Gunnarson, Marine XO, pleasure to meet you both."

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Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani Character Portrait: Erik Gunnarson Character Portrait: Dezhe
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#, as written by Jill
LC Idrani’s casual response to her use of Klingonese was comforting and Dezhe relaxed somewhat. "nuqneH is a greeting of sorts." Dezhe considered how to reply. "Humans have many forms of greeting; hello, hi there, good to see you, and so on. I am not sure what the Andorian versions would be, unfortunately. But in Klingonese there is just nuqneH. Its literal translation would be considered 'what do you want' but it would not be considered rude to a Klingon as the same phrase would in English."

Dezhe grabbed her glass and took a gulp as she continued. "Of course, few words translate literally across languages, but curses are always useful to get the point across no matter what language. I’d be happy to share a few. For example, you might have called me a t'gla when I responded to you greeting in Klingonese. A t’gla is a sort of mindless, useless creature that a proper Klingon does not respect. baQa' is a very general curse, you could use it in most situations on people or objects that aren’t functioning. And petaQ, well that’s just a good one for any situation and in some ways translates to useless, weak, garbage."

She noticed that LC Idrani had not taken a plate from the buffet or glass from the bar. Perhaps her commanding officer did not or could not drink? Dezhe actually knew little about Andorian physiology or culture. Her previous stations had been primarily crewed with humans though there were always a few other species on a ship. She had gotten used to thinking of all Starfleet personnel as human and fragile, a frame of mind that she would definitely have to fix going forward. The room was filling with a variety of species and the buffet table was not weighed down alone by the plain and boring fare of humans. It was unfortunate that the bar did not have a supply of bloodwine, but that would be expected with the economic restrictions on Klingon imports. There was a war on, after all.

When the human approached, Dezhe allowed her superior officer to take the lead in responding. It surprised her somewhat that the man had approached but when he announced himself she realized while. Marines were always a touch less formal than others. They were used to getting dirty and didn’t have time for the baQa' that other naval officers wasted time on. In the Empire all ship crew members would be expected to be as trained in arms as a Starfleet marine. A weak Klingon was of no use in space or in battle. In Starfleet however physical strength was not a requirement of crew not directly related to security and the marines.

He was about her height and walked with a sureness that made Dezhe convinced he might have experience in the field. And, she realized, he had walked up to the two most combat trained officers in the room. Dezhe amused herself for a moment imagining what a fight between the three would look like. In this room, likely there would be structural damage or even a tear in the ship's hull and all officers could be swept out into space.

"Greetings Captain Gunnarson. Is that not a very appropriate name for a marine commander? I am not familiar with all human naming protocols, but does your name not mean 'son of a gun'?" Dezhe only hoped that this comment wouldn't receive a poor reception. Humans could be so touchy, but at least LC Idrani seemed to be without prejudice towards her.

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"That is very interesting. We should have a discussion about the translation vs. transliteration of your language at some point if you are willing, I would find it very interesting. I do not agree that it was useless of you to use a Klingon greeting. Perhaps not Starfleet standard, but allowances must be made until we all find our footing on the Albion, so long as regulations are adhered to." Tyvya focused on not thinking of food and, in doing so noticed a marine walking up to them. He seemed fairly typical for his post, a swagger in his step and a certain ready-to-action air about him.

"Captain Erik Gunnarson, Marine XO, pleasure to meet you both."

Tyvya nodded and shook his hand since he had initiated it. "Greetings, Captain Gunnarson, I'm Lieutenant Commander Idrani, Chief of Security aboard the Albion. This is my Assistant Chief of Security, Lieutenant Katogh."

"Greetings Captain Gunnarson. Is that not a very appropriate name for a marine commander? I am not familiar with all human naming protocols, but does your name not mean 'son of a gun'?" She heard the Lieutenant say.

Listening, Tyvya revised her thoughts on her Assistant Chief. Either she was more awkward than she appeared to be when it came to social situations, or she was more charming than her manner would suggest. Interesting either way, she would have to continue to observe her to see which one it was. Not that either possibility would make the Lieutenant a bad Assistant, but it was essential to know the strengths of those you worked with, to assign them most efficiently.

Switching her attention to the Captain, Tyvya wondered how long it would take to build a good rapport with the Marines aboard. Perhaps it would be necessary to organize some sort of activity for the two groups, to get them working together on an even keel? Something to discuss with the Captain later when she could see him alone in his office. Paintball in the holosuite had worked well on other ships she'd worked on, as well as rock climbing and a human game called "Capture the flag." Competition and teamwork usually brought disparate crew members together like nothing else, and she welcomed the opportunity to continue to assess the crew, especially hers. Other departments might be useful in such an exercise as well, but she'd leave that to the Captain.

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#, as written by Legate
Greetings Captain Gunnarson. Is that not a very appropriate name for a marine commander? I am not familiar with all human naming protocols, but does your name not mean 'son of a gun'?


This brought him up short. He cocked his head and stared at her for a second unsure of whether she was making fun of him or not. He could see nothing but curiosity in her regard however and so he responded with a great booming laugh that briefly interrupted the other conversations in the room. Several people turned to look, let em stare what did he care.
Hahahahaa, Under normal circumstances Lieutenant you would be correct. However my last name as it happens is not actually originally in English.
He stood a little more proudly, he was fond of his Viking heritage
It was originally a Norse surname meaning Son of Gunnar. Gunnar meant soldier or warrior. So actually in a certain sense I suppose you are right. Son of one who carried a gun? Son of a gun? Either way I'm sure many would find the latter quite entertaining and accurate description of me. However Captain Gunnarson is only when I'm on duty. Please, call me Erik.


He looked over that the Lieutenant Commander and noticed she didn't have a drink.
Lieutenant Commander, can I get you a drink?
Indicating his own as he spoke.
The Rupert seems a decent sort if a bit laid back, but if this is like any Staff meeting we'll all need a couple before the end


He noticed neither of them were wearing Phasers and frowned.
You're not carrying?
When he saw the Klingons confused expression he amended his colloquialism
Weapons, that is. You're Security.

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Character Portrait: Anthony Kell Character Portrait: Virana Kalre Character Portrait: Dorath Yevel Character Portrait: Myka Von Fartherling Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani Character Portrait: Hannam Letant Character Portrait: Celeste Calhoun Character Portrait: Erik Gunnarson Character Portrait: R'Larn Character Portrait: Rilem Tariel Character Portrait: Dezhe Character Portrait: Dion Ral Character Portrait: Harper West Character Portrait: Ex'Ian
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#, as written by S1mon
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Captain Anthony Kell


His decision to congregate in the officer lounge was his and his alone. It was not that he disrespected authority and formalities as he understood the need for such, but he also wholeheartfully believed in the formal informalities where everyone can simply be themselves. Sure the Albion was at the fore-front of the approaching Klingon-Federation war by being the Task Force's Flagship, but with such importance to the success of their missions, it was as critically important for each other to work together and knowing each other's strengths and weaknesses to make the best decisions at a moment's notice.

One-by-one, each of his senior staff begun entering their unexpected meeting place, but of course Anthony's intentions did not rest in giving orders but give each one a chance to meet him in a less than formal surrounding, as well as meeting their fellow comrades in less than formal surroundings. His father of course was much more stricter on protocol, having the belief that all crew should respect, acknowledge and be fully aware of the chain of command, as well as the reinforcement of discipline. Sure Anthony believed in all that too but there were more important items on his agenda.

The crew of the Albion will be at the eye of the storm, thrown into the abyss with such trying and difficult times ahead. In comparison with the earlier days of the Federation, there was not at the forefront of exploration but at the forefront of war, war which brought destruction and death in its wake. If anything, Anthony hoped that the war would not occur but there was not a chance that Klingons would pull back from former Romulan space and give back to what remains of the Romulan Star Empire, so the war was inevitable.

Of all people that understood to an extent what Anthony was like, was his former comrade, now Chief of Security, Tyvya Idrani who was first to enter with the formality even if it was obvious that he was aiming for the meeting to be informal, "Lieutenant Commander Tyvya Idrani, reporting for duty, sir". Anthony could still remember the times that he and Tyvya had each others' back on the Chesapeake since she was part of his security team. She knew sometimes that Anthony had his own ways which seemed to succeed, he was certainly confident of her abilities and that she would make a great security chief which was why he was quick to accept her application. Even more interesting was for her assistant chief which would be bound to raise some controversy, but if anything was learnt in earlier human history, mistakes are made and not all are responsible for the actions of some so he hoped things would work out for Dezhe.

This whole meeting is in itself a test as he reviews his senior staff, but not everyone would agree with his ways and those who are confused as Celeste asked after her introduction, "May I inquire as to why we are meeting here?", only for his answer to be spoken by Virana Kalre who seemed to be pleased with his choice, "If I may say Captain, its a pleasant change to meet somewhere less...formal", which caused Anthony to lift his free hand towards her to give the notion that she had essentially spoken what he was to say to respond to Celeste's question as he continued, "Some may disagree, but I feel the best start would be somewhere more relaxed. We have plenty of time to be all serious afterall", smiling and giving a sharp nod to Virana, already pleased since it meant she understood his reasoning or at least some of it.

Following Virana was another comrade of his from the Chesapeake, Harper West who served as his Marine Commander who congratulated him on his position informally, which was just what he wanted. On many vessels, the strict type were usually the type officers did not get along with and was someone those lower in the chain could not get along with or approach with complaints, but Anthony wished to be approachable and understandable, being respectful and open to all regardless of rank though such didn't mean he didn't regard rank.

Of course one in particular who he believed would be on strict on rank and discipline, perhaps even moreso than his father was "Commander Hannam Letant, reporting for duty" as she nodded to him sternly before moving aside almost immediately. Following her was Captain Erik Gunnarson, Marine Executive Officer and Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Ex'Ian, giving each of them a friendly nod and smile to welcome them, before one by one, each of the senior staff begun to divide up as each got to speak with each other; Dorath and Celeste, Virana and Harper, Tyvya with Dezhe and Erik and a conversation even brewing with his first officer with Ex'Ian, so he was glad that she was opening up in that sense and trying his approach more than rejecting it. It was all positive and seemed his test was working out as he had hoped.

=A= "Lieutenant Ral to Captain" =A=

As soon as his commbadge chirped, his initial thoughts was what this could be about and secondly, why Lieutenant Ral wasn't where he was supposed to report to. Nevertheless, it must be for something important to contact him in these circumstances. Anthony gave a smile to the assistant chief of operations who he was conversing with as he had begun to mingle, only to pull to the side to respond so that this call wasn't disturbing what had been achieved so far, but at the back of his mind he felt this union was about to be over. Oh well, there was always another time.

=A= Kell here =A=

=A= Sorry to disturb you Captain but there is a romulan vessel on approach =A=

=A= Lifesigns? =A=

=A= Seems to be a very undermanned crew as only reading few lifesigns......using the sensor readings from what was given to us by the Romulans, am reading.....1, only 1 sir, and from what I can tell, the ship is on an intercept course to the starbase" =A=

Anthony closed his eyes since unfortunately things were starting already, what made it even more difficult to understand was the fact it was a romulan vessel when the remnants like Hannam's crew had joint with the Federation. =A= Contact Starbase to release docking clamps and start up the engines immediately, and contact transport chief to operate in two minutes. Kell out =A= now being left with no other choice, he then returned to the crowds until he was somewhat in the middle, clapped his hands together to cease the conversation that had now erupted around the room to get everyone's attention, "If I can have everyone's attention.....thank you! First of all I'd like to thank you all for coming, not that you had a choice but still, but going to have to cut this really short which is not what I wanted at the least but least you managed to put a face to a name", giving a smile before continuing, "In about thirty seconds you will all be transported to your stations as seems we got ourselves a bit of trouble, I am positively sure that we can put a stop to it, 100% sure we can so let's work together on this", ending with a clap before Anthony disappeared from the room, as one-by-one disappeared from the room also.

Re-appearing in the bridge, Anthony looked down to where Lieutenant Ral was, and then around the room as his senior bridge personnel appeared one by one, as he tapped his commbadge, =A= Kell to Ex'Ian, be advised we shall be leaving dock earlier than planned with a possible fire fight so be ready down there.....Kell to Medical, though I do not anticipate casualties, please be at the ready just incase.....Kell out =A=. With the relevant departments informed, he then turned to everyone else, "For our situation, we have a one-manned romulan vessel on an intercept course to the starbase, our task is to intervene and apprehend the lone ranger", using terminology intentionally associated with Earth's past, but 'lone' was enough to suggest that they were after the culprit behind the attack, "Lieutenant Ral, activate thrusters and let's get away from these shackles.....any suggestions?", the latter part of his statement directing at the rest of his senior staff to hear their input while Dion was tasked with getting the ship out of the dock.......

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Tyvya leapt out of her chair into action. Turning on her comm, she alerted the rest of her security team. "We are on high alert. I want two of you on each deck in pairs, patrolling the halls, in case one of the hostiles decides to beam aboard. Phasers on stun, but I'll alert you if we have to change that setting. Sound off to me every fifteen minutes, and then sound off to each other. I want to know as soon as someone finds something or drops off the comm."

A chorus of "Yes, ma'am," came from her comm.

Now on the bridge, Tyvya went to a station to monitor the status of the ship as well as her security staff. "Captain, I suggest we hail them, and if they do not respond, fire a warning shot across their bow and prepare to destroy the ship. Or, if you prefer, we could board the ship ourselves and apprehend the Romulan."

Lieutenant Katogh, who had beamed to the bridge with the rest of the senior staff, was not far from her. Addressing her, Tyvya asked, "Lieutenant, your thoughts?"

A Romulan ship headed for a Starfleet base? Were they mad? Frankly, Tyvya believed that it might just be best to destroy the ship altogether without any sort of chatter, given their actions, but that wasn't the Starfleet way. She loved the simplicity of straight military might, survival above all, but if she'd been content with that she would have stayed at home. Exploration and learning it was, then, but always with weapons trained on the unknown as well as a discerning eye for science or whatever.

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Security was roaming the halls, reporting regularly that there were no anomalies, and Tyvya herself was itching to be a part of some kind of action. Security was usually sent on Away Missions, depending on the Captain, and she hoped there would be something like that soon. Or that they would take care of this Romulan threat and get back to exploring the galaxy. Thankfully she had not had to deal with too much vacation time in her career, it didn't set well with her Andorian soul. Many of her fellow crew on ships past had relished any chance to get away from the ship, but Tyvya hated the idea that things could happen without her. Even with a competent or an excellent staff, she didn't like leaving her ship completely unattended.

She turned to her Captain. She trusted that he would make the right decision, whether it involved action or not. Space was a big place, after all, there was plenty time for the kind of encounters that made her blood sing. She hoped this particular encounter was a quick one, as her stomach was beginning to tighten and complain, thankfully silently, that she needed to eat, and soon.

"Well, sir? What are your orders?"

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Character Portrait: Anthony Kell Character Portrait: Virana Kalre Character Portrait: Dorath Yevel Character Portrait: Myka Von Fartherling Character Portrait: Tyvya Idrani Character Portrait: Hannam Letant Character Portrait: Celeste Calhoun Character Portrait: Erik Gunnarson Character Portrait: R'Larn Character Portrait: Rilem Tariel Character Portrait: Nathan Williams Character Portrait: Dezhe Character Portrait: Dion Ral Character Portrait: Ex'Ian
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#, as written by S1mon
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Captain Anthony Kell


As the saying goes, all's fair in love and war so far so good, as each of the senior staff materialised as he intended onto the Bridge and immediately adjusted themselves according to the situation they now faced, both internally and externally. Despite the lack of preparation due to the sudden appearance of the romulan vessel, the crew were responding quickly which was always a good sign, especially on the Flagship that was leading the way. It was one thing to serve on a Flagship, even more so to command a Flagship, but the most important is whether it was a functional Flagship, such that certainly proved to be the case as he heard each of the senior staff communicating with their staff via the comms, followed by the marines and fighters reporting him from Captain Gunnarson and Commander Kalre respectively. No doubt Harper was busy yet it was concerning that he hadn't made a report for his department.

Nevertheless, such matters would be addressed at a later date as Lieutenant Ral activated the ship's thrusters with the ship lunging forwards slowly out of space dock, being cautious not to scratch the paintwork. Usually the first assignment started so smoothly with his piloting being the center of attention as the ship got underway on its maiden voyage, but it seemed that the Albion would not get such a chance and nor would the crew, such that was an implied condition in serving a Flagship no doubt. Nevertheless, things in Starfleet were never what they seem, nor were things ever easy, though there was no harm in putting such ideology across, even in the most serious situations.

"Captain, I suggest we hail them, and if they do not respond, fire a warning shot across their bow and prepare to destroy the ship. Or, if you prefer, we could board the ship ourselves and apprehend the Romulan", Tyvya suggested, followed by Nathan who seemed to have a similar idea, "Hail them sir maybe they are in some kind of distress? Alternatively we could head out towards the ship and try and lock on with our tractor beam sir". Anthony of course had his own plan in mind, but like with the previous meeting in the lounge, he sought to find out what was on the mind of his crew, because at some point he would be part of an away mission and leaving others to continue in his position as he certainly could not be at more than one place at once.

Hannam brought up a significant point that a "regular warbird could be run by just one person", so perhaps this was no regular warbird, or perhaps the sensors were misleading, Afterall, each year advances with developments or introductions of new technology and it was no secret upon the surrender of the Belak that Romulans were being resourceful. There was certainly an element of irony that the Klingons were also being resourceful by the timing of their attack, no matter how wrong the attack was, but clearly the Romulan-Klingon war had certainly put the Federation in a difficult position, such that Hannam highlighted on a more personal level that affected him as she asked, "Captain...If the vessel is piloted by a Romulan, and if he or she requests asylum...will you grant it?". Despite the clear concerns of Hannam's position as a Romulan and Anthony's position as a Starfleet Captain, sitting on the precipace of a potential war, he replied, "Regardless of our circumstances, we cannot change who we are, so by all means asylum would be granted without a doubt", wishing to assure his first officer. Captain Janeway was also put into a similar situation in the Delta Quadrant where she held onto Federation principles regardless of their fight for survival with potential enemies around them and little allies. If Voyager can hold onto principles solo in such conditions, then there was no reason why the Federation or the Albion should not hold onto them also, regardless of relations with the Klingons.

"Well, sir? What are your orders?", Tyvya asked as he pulled away from Hannam and clapped his hands to get attention, "Yes! Lieutenant Ral, move to an intercept course for the romulan warbird. If that doesn't rock their boat, I don't know what will.....", giving his orders and adding a little humour to lighten the mood before proceeding with his remaining orders as he cracked his knuckles and then turning to Nathan, "I would like you to work with the Engineering staff and get to work on preparing a repulsion beam. If the pilot is a desperado, we do not wish to give him or her the means of destablising us"[/b], then turning to Tyvya, "I would like you to work with the marines to prepare to board, though be cautious if the pilot is a desperado or if the scans prove false. Work with Intelligence in that regard and advise medical of possible casualties to prepare for, should the worst-case scenario occur", letting Tyvya take the lead on this one.

There was a greater concern however on Anthony's mind as he tapped his commbadge, =A= Commander Kalre this is Captain Kell. Incase the scan proves false, I would like a squad sent out to scout the area of any possible reinforcements this vessel has, in particular any Klingon activity, just incase this is a ploy which I am not a fan of falling for..... =A= before turning to Hannam incase she had anything to add. Scans certainly proved to be helpful but sometimes they were misleading and the best way to find out was the old fashioned way......


(OOC: I have tagged everyone and divided orders for departmental collaboration which I liked to see between the marines and the fighters. Anyone have any questions, contact me via pm or via ooc. This will also be a good way of seeing who remains and what spots we need to fill)

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"I would like you to work with the marines to prepare to board, though be cautious if the pilot is a desperado or if the scans prove false. Work with Intelligence in that regard and advise medical of possible casualties to prepare for, should the worst-case scenario occur."

"Yes, Captain." Tyvya responded. She turned. "Lieutenant Katogh, you have command over the patrols, keep me apprised if we have hostiles."


Captain Gunnarson she found with the Marines and Pilots in the hangar, among quite a bit of unregulated hubbub in her mind. She'd com'd four of her Security staff while she strode quickly to the area, and they stood behind her as she addressed him. "Captain Gunnarson, we'll be accompanying you and assisting in this endeavor, as per Captain's orders. How would you like to coordinate boarding the vessel, and how can we assist?"

Tyvya was confident that Security could assist the Marines and be an asset in the mission, but she hoped that Captain Gunnarson would coordinate and work with them in the most effective way possible. It was a cooperative venture, to be sure, but in this case she was willing to let the Marines take the lead in strategy as they were already deploying. It also might lead to better relations in the future, as it was never good if the Security staff and Marines were at odds, so she hoped by showing Captain Gunnarson the respect of hearing out his plan and offering help she would show her willingness to work as a team. She wished she knew him better, because this was difficult ground for a new crew.

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#, as written by Legate
Gunnarson heard footsteps coming up behind them as he surveyed the chaotic efforts of the flightcrew and marines.

"Captain Gunnarson, we'll be accompanying you and assisting in this endeavor, as per Captain's orders. How would you like to coordinate boarding the vessel, and how can we assist?"

He turned around, registered that she was a lieutenant commander and lazily waved a salute. "Lieutenant Commander Idrani, glad you could join us" he drawled. "Myself and Colonel Harper will be leading our strike teams in assaults on the bridge and engineering. If we are looking at a suicide run it's imperative that we reach those two sections first. However in doing so we will not have time to clear the rest of the ship. That's where your Security forces come in; As we clear each section on the way there I'd like to leave some of your boys behind as rear security. Colonel Harper would probably do the same, Think you can drum up four more likely lads or lasses?"

Tyvya spoke her piece. When she was done Gunnarson told her. "One more thing, when we go, your security teams need to stay behind my marines. Your coming on this trip is conditional to you agreeing to that. My marines are armoured we have grenades and we're used to working as an assault squad. This gives everyone the best chance of survival." He flipped a knife out of his vest and caught it by the blade. He offered it to her hilt first. "Want a knife?"

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"As we clear each section on the way there I'd like to leave some of your boys behind as rear security. Colonel Harper would probably do the same, Think you can drum up four more likely lads or lasses?"

"That won't be a problem, Captain Gunnarson. Your strategy is sound." She turned on her com and chose four more security officers, largely at random. If they'd known each other longer she'd have been able to choose with knowledge of each officers' expertise, and their files weren't as detailed as she'd like. This coming confrontation, however, would give her a foundation to start compiling her own files on her staff.

"One more thing, when we go, your security teams need to stay behind my marines. Your coming on this trip is conditional to you agreeing to that. My marines are armoured we have grenades and we're used to working as an assault squad. This gives everyone the best chance of survival. Want a knife?"

Tyvya took the knife, weighing it for a moment in her hand. "Thank you, athough I usually prefer my hands I would never refuse additional weapons." A nice gesture, although she had no idea if it meant anything beyond the straightforward to humans. "I am agreeable to keep my staff behind yours, as the situation demands it, although I am sure there are times where we will fight side by side in future. I am not fond of the rear guard," she said, feeling loquacious perhaps in gratitude for the loaning of the knife, "but I can recognize when it is necessary for battle." Her four additional staff came in, saluted, and joined their fellow security staff. "We are prepared to leave when you are."

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#, as written by Legate
Well she was a bit stuffy but who knows, maybe she was just shy around other people. "Suit yourself ma'am, but I find you can never be carrying too many implements to hurt people." He gave her a wolfish grin as fired up his 2 pistols to check them then shut them down. "If I could get that back after the mission though I'd appreciate it" he said with a significant look, thereby completing the good luck ritual. You always had to ask for stuff back, it was bad ju-ju not to. Because if you asked for it back then they had to be alive to give it to you. Or buy a round the night before a mission, then tell the other person they could get the next one, you both had to be around to collect on it.

He pulled her aside for a second "Listen, ma'am, I understand that you and your forces want to be up front with us, but I've got a bad feeling about this, everything is taking too long, it's too quiet and there's not enough information. I'm glad you're along with us because I get the feeling that by the end of this my marines and I will be glad we had someone watching our backs. I'd keep this to yourself for now, no sens in getting anyone else too riled up." He tapped his nose at her and walked off yelling at the marines. "Sergeant Ocran! What the HELL are you boys doing to my explosives!!" As the sergeant explained, Gunnarson began to smile. "Well done Sergeant, full points for being a devious bastard." "Yes sir! Thank you sir!"

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Tyvya cocked her head, deciding to allow herself a trivial question before they went out into the unknown. Uncharacteristic, perhaps, but 'small talk' had been shown to improve relations among crew members. "Is this a human custom I have missed, lending out weapons? I have never run across it before, but I admit that my studies in your culture were not as complete as my studies in other areas." Namely weapons and combat. Tyvya had not been shy about directing her studies towards her strengths, and while she completed all her classes with competence, she excelled in those pertaining to her military background. She'd also been a part of a small band, unfortunately ungraded, but had not been able to find one at her skill level at every ship she'd been stationed at. Perhaps this ship had a few musicians?

To his second point, Tyvya nodded as she replied, "I understand. It is better to be prepared for the worse, and I am honored to have your 'back,' in this engagement."

She turned her head to address her staff, "I want everyone in strict Beta-four formation, and when you are stationed behind you are to keep at strict attention. The Marines will need our assistance and I will not allow us to let them down. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Chief!" her staff replied, and she nodded in approval. She hoped to keep as many alive as possible, and cooperating with the Marines--as well as protecting their rear guard--was essential to her honor as well as to all of their survival. Tyvya was sure they would make the Captain proud in their first engagement, and if they didn't, she would sure as shax know who was responsible and why. There was no room for slackers or errors when lives were at stake.