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SD241911.06 || Plot Log || "Survivor's Guilt"

Posted on 06 Nov 2019 @ 10:56am by Captain Mallory Thorne

Mission: Tyr's Hand

=/\= Begin Log =/\=

Mallory was still struggling against the tide of emotions and innate resistance to this military woman walking beside her as they left the small meeting room, en route back to deck four and the shuttlebay so this General Stanton could get her arse off Mallory's ship now.


An explorer at heart, Roman had been investigating. He'd found all the main areas of the ship, knew where all the recreational facilities were and all the common areas where crew tended to congregate. He had spent time talking and listening, mostly listening, and had learned a great deal. Before long, he was listening to crew members vent their frustrations and fears. The young petty officer who feared that she would never see her fiance again. The ensign who was having trouble getting past all the losses among the crew. The crewman he'd found weeping in a quiet corner of an unused lounge. He listened and offered the advice he'd learned on Earth. Refugees and camp survivors. Survivalists and the angry, disenfranchised youth of so many places. It wasn't much in the greater scheme of things, problems on this scale didn't disappear overnight, but he thought maybe he left things better than he'd found them and along the way, figured out ways to help them both. And it was one of those ways that brought him to Deck 4 to pick up a basketball that someone had volunteered.

He entered the turbolift on deck five, catching it just before the doors closed, and nodded politely to its occupants before moving to one side, basketball in hand. "Captain," he said politely in accented German and then, seeing her gaze hit the basketball he held in hand, added, "being active helps. Being alone with your thoughts doesn't. So ... basketball. Ensign Addams was happy enough to offer us the loan of his."

Mal was surprised for a moment at the entry of the ship's guest, but she offered a small, genuine smile. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Mr. Gant," she said. "I hope you all enjoy yourselves."

There, she thought it would be an end to it. There really was no way she could anticipate what would roll out over the next minute of her life.

General Stanton's head snapped to observe the man who had just entered, and the red light of the single cybernetic eye swept over him. "Who is this?" the general asked in a tone of voice that set Mal's teeth on edge.

"A member of my crew," Mal replied tersely.

"What member?" Stanton asked in the same tone. "He does not conform to the information from your database."

Mallory's mind raced. She couldn't really, later, explain all the connecting flights that her mind took, but she had a sudden flash--call it catastrophic thinking, if you will--that if she didn't assure this woman of Mr. Gant's presence on the ship that they would do...something, and that she wouldn't like it.

She grit her teeth slightly and offered a polite, diplomatic smile. "We've had some changes following our reason traumatic losses and they haven't all been entered into the computer yet," she answered smoothly. "He is my--" There was the briefest of pauses as her mind raced through the crew's recent losses, and then the first thing that came to mind uncharacteristically just popped out of her mouth. "--first officer."

Why did you say that, Mal? she asked herself.

Shut up and get this bitch off the ship, she answered herself.

Stanton arched a brow and swung her mismatched gaze between them. "He is your XO."

"Yes," Mal repeated. In for a penny, in for a pound... She glanced at Roman and tried to convey through expression alone to just go along with it for the moment. She hoped he understood.

While he didn't understand exactly, Roman, who had spent years as a resistance fighter and even more years hiding who he was, knew how to sell an identity. Now, why he had to sell this one was something he and the Captain would definitely talk about later. He straightened and thanked those few years he'd spent as a Marine. "Yes, Ma'am," Roman said as he turned a politely blank look toward the somewhat unsettling woman accompanying the Captain.

Stanton kept up her solid, unblinking, blue-red and borderline frightening gaze for a few moments more before grunting. "As you say, Captain." With that, she seemingly all but dismissed the issue and turned back to stare at the turbolift door just seconds before it swished open. The general and her guard were off first, and Mal followed. Before she did, she looked back at Roman and mouthed, I'll explain later, and then moved off to escort Stanton back to her shuttle.

* * *

Once she had seen General Stanton back off the ship and received the final words on the matter, Mallory returned straight to her ready room.

Instead of a ship-wide broadcast, since she wasn't sure if that channel was begin monitored from the station somehow, she sent encrypted text communications to several members of the crew specifically and then some in general.

1. She asked Roman Gant to report to the ready room as soon as he was able.
2. She asked Lieutenant Bran to put together a small team that would be granted access to the station beyond. The fact was, Stanton had said any of the crew could visit the station, but she wasn't going to let anyone loose. She wanted security to investigate first.
3. Use of the transporters was suspended. People had to go by shuttle for reasons of safety.
4. The ship was granted 'guest' access to the station's database. Mallory wanted the senior staff to access it and study what they could about this new timeline or universe they were in, because they couldn't get out without knowing what they'd gotten into.

With that, she sent off the messages, leaned back in her chair, and wondered what the hell she was going to do now.

=/\= End Log =/\=

OOC: OKAY! This concludes the basic plot. We're going to have some "downtime-ish" time now, basically logging personal stuff and reactions to things and following up on the above orders. More information will be revealed as time goes on, but here's the part I think is fun:

This universe now belongs to YOU, my lovely writers. What does that mean? I want you to make shit up. Have your characters read the database and learn about this timeline and how things are different than the Trek universe we know and have written about already. What could have changed in the years between 2037 and 2419, based on all the stuff we messed with.

1. There is a one area that I've already done, which you can find here:

2. Otherwise, free game. BUT! BUT! You MUST FIRST send me a PM of some sort to tell me what parts of the timeline/universe you want to write about so that I can make sure no one writes something conflicting. I need to know where all the threads are in terms of that.

Cool? Cool. Happy writing!


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