Decisions and Departures

Cargo Hold 

Cargo shuttling robots handle a lot of the heavy lifting in this 100-foot-square, 40-foot-high hold, which is capable of carrying several months worth of food and supplies for the ship's crew with plenty of space left over for commercial and scientific payloads.

A quartermaster oversees the arrivals and departures of cargos, checking manifests to make sure that what's on the list matches what's in the crate.

A wide archway, accessible by the cargo bots, leads to the ship's shuttle bay.

Xavin dips his head again. "Certainly, sir. The Voice guide."

Eellisa pushes her self onto her knees. Her face red a blotchy, she wipes the tears from her cheeks with conviction. She says to her self, " Not cry Eeyisia. I be stuong. I hep peop'e o'me." She looks up at the Demarian and says quiety, " Peop'e o'me be sick."

Porter steps into the cargo hold, datapad in hand. His boots thump on the deck plates as he approaches the group.

Ashfoot notices Porter's arrival and pads toward him, standing at attention. "Lieutenant Ashfoot Rightseeker, sir, from the JAG Office." He salutes.

Xavin dips his head, arms clasped loosely in front of him. "Commander." His tone is simple, thick bags melding in the space between eye and skin.

Porter returns the salute to Ashfoot. "Lieutenant, it's been a long time." He smiles slightly. "Welcome aboard the Minerva." He looks toward Xavin. "Recruit, get Mr. Carlon out of that crate, shackle him, and haul him into the briefing room."

Carlon is in a perforated crate. The crate is locked and a guard is nearby.

Ashfoot smiles in a perfunctory sort of way. "Thank you, sir."

Xavin hesitates a moment, his eyes trailing down towards Eellisa. Looking up, he nods solemnly. "At your wish, sir."

Eellisa stands up as she sees Porter. Her face is pained, " Co'ne. I need go back. I be headeumaw. I must hep peop'e o'me."

Xavin makes his way towards the crate, the sound of the steel-shod boots hitting the ship decking revirberating louder as he approaches. "Mr. Carlon." He calls out simply as he nears.

Porter turns toward Eellisa, a sad but sympathetic smile on his face. "Eellisa, I understand. We will take you home, but we need to make sure you're healthy first. If you're healthy, then perhaps you're immune to whatever caused this epidemic. If that's the case, then you may be their only hope."

Carlon puts his head up for a monment, "Hrmm? Oh, Hello. What's going on, eh?" he asks, starting to try and look out the holes.

Marlan steps into the cargo hold, she is tugging down on her uniform, and looks up as she enters, apparently a bit surprised by all the peopel gathered here.

Xavin reaches the crate, standing calmly in front of the makeshift holding cell. "Mr. Carlon, I am going to open this crate. When I open it, chap, I want to find you on your knees, face against the crate's base, hands behind your back. If you're thinkin' you have a better idea, you will be shot. Understand that?"

Eellisa sniffs slightly and nods, " I be hea'dy. " She moves to pick up her dropped bundles. " I go back soon den."

Porter nods to Eellisa. "As soon as the doctor clears us all medically, yes."

Eellisa is picking up her two bundles, her face is red and blotchy from crying.

Carlon snorts, "You think being shot scares me, eh? Well, it doesn't, but I'll do what you're telling me to anyway."

Porter turns his attention back to Carlon. "That's an incorrect response, Mr. Carlon. The correct response is, 'Yes, sir.'"

Marlan heads over towards Eellisa and Porter, "Whats giong on?" she asks as she spots Eellisa's crying form.

Xavin clears his throat, snapping a pair of steel shackles from his security belt. "I'll give you thirty seconds to get into position, chap. Then we're cracking Pandora."

Carlon shrugs, "Alright, then. Sorry, Yes, sir." he replies, getting into the position Xavin told him to and waiting patiently.

Porter brings his face around to look at Marlan. "I need you to run a full medical examination of Eellisa to determine whether she's ill or not. Her planet is suffering from an epidemic. If she's healthy, if she's immune, her blood may be useful in creating a vaccine."

Marlan frowns a bit but nods, "I still have samples from the last exam i preformed, i can use those for a baseline."

Porter nods to Marlan. "Thank you, Doctor. I need to know as soon as possible." He then looks back toward Xavin and Carlon.

Eellisa stands quietly holding tightly on to her bags. She looks from Porter to the Doctor expectantly.

Marlan nods slightly, "Aye, sir. I have a few matters to speak with you about. They'll wait until after the exam though." she says before turning to Eellisa, "Come on..this shouldn't take too long."

Xavin stands formally beside the crate, counting the time allottment in his head. When it has passed expiration, he taps a security code into the electronic padlock on the crate's sidewall.

Eellisa nods and begins to follow Marlan.

Marlan turns heading back towards the main corridor.

Carlon just waits, remaining in position.

Xavin swallows, hand curling around the top edge of the crate and pulling outward succinctly. Another security guard has cocked his pulse rifle, aiming it towards the open hole. Xavin peers in from a few feet out.

Xavin shakes one of the shackles open and bowing his head enters into the cramped container. He wrinkles his nose at the smell of urine. Carefully, he steps forward, bending down to shackle the man.

Carlon remains in the position, staying quiet.

Xavin snaps one of the shackles onto the prisoner's right wrist, then quickly finishes the job. "Thank you for your compliance, Mr. Carlon. Rise." He adds after a brief moment. "And be wary of hitting your head."

Carlon stands, using his knees for support he winces for a monment and glances torward his legs. "Cramps..." he mutters, but manages to deal with it quite well.

Xavin grips the steel links between the shackles firmly, pressing against Carlon's back, lightly. "We'll take this slow, Mr. Carlon. Just step out of the crate."

Porter nods, watching the removal of the prisoner.

Carlon slowly rises out of the crate, the cringe on his face slowly fading away as he stands.

Xavin presses his knuckles lightly into the prisoner's spine. "Just keep moving forward, Mr. Carlon. Head down that corridor."

Carlon looks displeased at the pressing, but quickly dismisses opening his mouth and heads for the corridor as instructed.

Xavin glances sideways towards Porter, then returns his gaze to the back of the prisoner's scalp as the two press into the corridor.

Porter turns and begins to follow Carlon. "Come along, Lieutenant."

The crew reassembles in...

Briefing Room 

A projection screen and interstellar map dominate the aft bulkhead of this spacious chamber, with a podium before the screen that bears the Vanguard Exploration Service seal - an eagle in profile with its beak aimed up and to the right, against a backdrop of blazing stars.

Two dozen chairs are arranged in four rows of six for crew and civilian contractors to gather for briefings. A computer index terminal is off to port. To starboard, a holographic imager table allows officers to plan strategy in three dimensions.

Xavin signals to another security officer as he and the prisoner enter. When they reach the front row of chairs, Xavin instructs with a tone of empathy. "Have a seat, Mr. Carlon." He signals to the other security officer. "If you'll keep your eye on him, until the debriefing." The security guard nods in compliance.

Carlon nods to Xavin quietly, and takes a seat at one of the chair.

Genive walks into the room with the tray. She averts her eyes from the chained man, walks to the table and sets it down in the center. She stands back and waits for direction.

With Carlon settled into a front-row chair, he makes his way past the other security guard heading for the outside corridor. As Porter enters he dips his head. "Sir, request for a moment of your time."

Porter walks over to the podium, resting an arm on the angled top. "Lieutenant, Private, have a seat." He nods to Xavin. "Make it quick, Recruit."

Genive nods and takes a seat.

Ashfoot takes the indicated seat and focuses his piercing gaze on the defendent.

Carlon just starts to look around the room, not really sparing anything a longer glance than the thing he just looked at.

Xavin nods his head curtly, speaking in a low-tone. "To update you on security measures, sir, all security officers have been notified of the quarantine and I have assured that there is an officer on post at the primary airlock at all times. Any security breaches are to be reported directly to you sir. As yet, there have been none." He pauses, glancing towards the Vanguard JAG Officer. "Save for the entrance of the Officer, and I believe that the security officer used his best judgement in that allotment, sir."

"I recognised the risk, sir, and the JAG Office requested that I board anyway," explains Ashfoot.

Porter nods to Xavin, then looks toward Ashfoot. "Glad you could make it." He looks back to Xavin. "Good work. Keep close to Mr. Carlon. We know he's a flight risk."

Marlan enters the room and heads for the table.

Xavin nods formally, and makes his way down from the podium, crossing to the first row and sitting in the seat adjacent to the prisoner. "I'd advise you to keep silent during this, Mr. Carlon, unless directed to speak. Understand that?"

Carlon is seated in the front row of seats, hands shackled behind his back. He gives a mere nod to Xavin, "Yes, Sir." he drones.

Porter clears his throat, then looks toward the assembled crew. "Mr. Carlon was convicted earlier this year on a murder charge. He was issued a dishonorable discharge from service and was awaiting the completion of the holding facility on Pluto when we had to evacuate Retribution. So, we brought him aboard the Minerva rather than leaving him to die. We do not have the facilities to keep holding him while he serves his sentence. So, we have to consider our options. That's why we're here tonight." He glances toward Carlon, then back to the rest of the group. "I will allow Mr. Carlon a few minutes to state his position on this matter. Then, I will follow up with my own position and sum up our options. Then we're going to discuss it."

Marlan nods slightly.

Xavin stands, his hand reaching for the chain that binds Carlon's shackles together. "Rise, Mr. Carlon."

Carlon nods briefly to Porter and shifts his gaze to Xavin. He nods to him as well and does as told, rising. He looks at Porter blankly and waiting.

Porter nods. "Go ahead, Mr. Carlon."

Ashfoot's tail stops swishing as he focusses his intense concentration on Carlon.

Genive shifts in her seat and waits for Carlon to speak.

Porter is standing near the podium, watching the shackled Carlon, who seems about to speak.

Carlon nods again and starts off, "I am indeed sorry for what I have done, but all the apology in the world will not matter to what has happens. I have never lied in any of my statements. I was merely trying to knock the Private, Keasler, out to allow escape. The deed was utterly stupid and I was definatly high-strung at the time of the act. When he finally stopped fighting back, I thought I had succeded in making him unconcious, so I did not care at the time. I do swear that if I knew he was dead, I would have turned myself in immediatly right there. Either way, I doubt it matters now. I will take the punishment and not fight back. Where I go is where I go. I will atleast act accordingly and go through with this willingly."

Xavin is standing directly adjacent to Carlon, one hand firmly gripping the chain between the two shackles. He watches the man as he speaks.

Hunter slips into the room and sits down near the front of the room.

Porter tilts his head slightly. "Mr. Carlon, do you think being 'high strung' is an adequate excuse for manslaughter - accidental or otherwise?"

Genive frowns slightly and bites her lip.

Carlon answers, "Not completely. I was also angry about when I heard Yanix was taken, and sought a completely idiotic way, which was my path of thinking, to remedy that. Now...now I do not care about her. She is on her path and I mine." He adds, "Also, any insults which I have previously thrown I apologize for. I was not in the best of moods, but that was my fault."

Xavin lowers his eyes toward the floor, blinking once before looking back up at Carlon.

Porter lifts his eyebrows. "Not completely? So you think there's at least some comfort to be found in the defense that you're just one step up the evolutionary ladder from a rabid poodle?"

Carlon shakes his head, "I was that at the time, I was well above unusually angry. Not completely just meant that high-strung was not all I was, and whatever else I was I have told you."

Genive blinks and looks at Carlon.

Ashfoot speaks in his best judicial tone. "Private Carlon, your emotional state during the incident for which you were convicted is not relevant here. You have been tried and sentenced. Now is not the time for mitigation. We are here to determine what is to be done with you. Have you anything to offer to that issue?"

Porter glances toward Ashfoot. "Lieutenant, when I'm done questioning, I'll be sure to let you know."

Carlon looks to Ashfoot as if to answer, but quickly refocuses on Porter.

Ashfoot's whiskers twitch. "Yes, sir," he says primly. He sits back slightly in his chair.

Porter rests a hand on the podium, then looks back toward Carlon. "The lieutenant may have spoken out of turn, but he's quite right. You've already been convicted and sentenced. We're here to talk about what to do with you *now*. The other night, you indicated an interest in resuming service aboard the Minerva. I haven't heard any persuasive comments in that direction yet, and I have lots of other, more appealing options at my disposal. So, get to the point, Mr. Carlon."

Carlon nods to Porter, "Sorry, Sir. From your comments last night, I assumed they didn't matter, but I will continue them now. If it were a choice I would indeed continue my service on the Minerva. I would not act up, I would stay on constant duty, no leave, no complaints, no problems, no requests if that was wanted. My actions on that night definatly do not reflect those of how I am today. I merely wish to pay Vanguard back for the valuable life which I have taken away so foolishly and to somehow comfort Mr. Keaslers family in knowing that he did not die entirely in vain."

Marlan shake sher head, "Too late for that." she comments.

Porter smiles faintly. "Mr. Carlon, doesn't it strike you the least bit unfair to think that you getting a paying wage and freedom would absolutely ensure that Keasler's family knowing he DID die in vain?"

Genive shakes her head sadly.

Carlon shakes his head, "Pay...money means nothing to me. I will work for free and never will attempt to quit. I devote the rest of my natural life to the Vanguard. I have atleast some valuable skills and all I want to do is help. I will not even leave the ship unless given permission."

Xavin stays silent, his face a stoic field, hand still placed against Carlon's shackles.

Ashfoot's whiskers twitch disapprovingly and he makes a note on his datapad.

Porter furrows his brow. "The options before us are as follows: We continue to drag Mr. Carlon around with us as a prisoner, allowing him to consume our resources; we give him another chance as a member of the crew, taking it on faith - based on repeated evidence of poor judgment dating back before the Keasler killing (remember Tomin Kora?); or we effectively make him someone else's problem. The Sivadians could probably use him as labor in their Morrigan mining camp. The Ungstiri have offered to take him for their mines as well." He looks toward the assembled crew. "I was going to tell you my preference, but I'll save that until I've heard each of you discuss this. Feel free to question the prisoner, then issue your recommendation."

Marlan raises a hand, obviously wishing to speak

Carlon merely nods and keeps standing in wait.

Porter nods to Marlan. "Go ahead, Doctor."

Genive bites her lip and knits her brow in thought. She turns and listens to Marlan.

Marlan leans back, "Personally i'm all for forced labor. And i can tell you from experience that life in the Ungstiri mines isn't a cake walk. But if we're going to force him tow ork, we may as wel get some use from it here on the ship. That is if there's somethign he can contribute too withou having acess to a weapon." she turns her eyes to Carlon, "Anything like tha come to mind?"

Ashfoot glances at Porter and nods faintly, indicating his own desire to speak.

Carlon turns his attention to Marlan, "Weaponry is all I am, Doctor. I joined this military for one thing, to protect. Basically all of my skills can be used to do harm or protect. Like, for example, I am a demolitionist. With that skill and training, I could save thousands of lives, or destroy them. That is always a promise, and all you can count on to say that I'll use it for good is my oath and my word, also my devotion. Those are not worth much to this military, though."

Porter raises his eyebrows. "Son, I don't care if you've got Jesus Christ listed as a reference as your Lord and Savior on a resume, I am not letting you touch anything with the word 'detonator' close to it."

Genive shakes her head again and breathes out slowly.

Porter glances toward Ashfoot. "Go ahead, Lieutenant."

Carlon switches his gaze to Ashfoot.

Ashfoot places his paws on the table and begins. "Sir, it is of course for this tribunal to decide on Mr. Carlon's fate. It is the position of the Judge Advocate General's Office, however, that until such time as the Vanguard can establish proper prison facilities, Private Carlon's situation should remain the same. The JAG Office fears that to allow Private Carlon back into the ship population would be dangerous to morale and discipline. It would also overturn the decision of the tribunal that sentenced him in the first place. The JAG Office feels that it is a Vanguard problem that should be handled by the Vanguard itself." He turns his attention toward Carlon and his ears flatten slightly as he says, rather harshly, "As humans say, Private Carlon, you already have made your bed."

Porter nods to Ashfoot. "That was a good philosophy, when the Vanguard had a prison facility. How do you recommend we deal with it, absent a prison?"

Volaya pokes her head in quietly, green light dimmed to unobtrusiveness.

Ashfoot turns to Porter, "I feel certain, sir, that establishing a proper facility for incarcerating prisoners will be a priority when the Vanguard relocates. Until that time, the JAG Office feels that Mr. Carlon should remain where he is."

Marlan snorts, "In a crate. I don't like the man, but as a doctor i've got to oppose that solution."

Porter nods to Ashfoot. "Understood. That *is* one of the listed options. Thank you, Lieutenant." He looks toward Hunter. "Sergeant, anything you want to add to this?"

Volaya slips the rest of the way into the room, aura shimmering into darkness. She leans herself against the wall, her sunglasses back in place on her face.

Hunter hmm's softly for a moment, "I think, absent of a prison facility, we should leave him on Ungstir to work in the mines...if they are willing to take him. It was obvious that the Private didn't learn anything from the incident at Tomin Kora."

Porter nods, then looks toward Genive. "Private?"

Genive nods and bites her lip as she thinks, " Sir, personally I would feel uncomfortable if Private Carlon was to work, in what ever capacity aboard the ship. Even though I do beleive he does show remorse for his actions I would fear what would happen if he ever became angry again. I'm not sure I could trust that his control under pressure would have changed. Maybe you could leave him somewhere and when and if we establish a new base we could send for him."

Porter smiles grimly, then looks toward Carlon. "I don't think you've learned a damn thing, except to say you're sorry, and to blame it on a moment of passion that really doesn't, in your opinion, represent the true 'you.' Well, Mr. Carlon, I've got 50 people on this ship who rely on each other to survive. They rely on *me* not to put them at unnecessary risk. I consider *you* an unnecessary risk." He clasps his hands behind his back. "That said, I agree with the lieutenant: You're our problem, and we shouldn't pawn you off on anyone else just because we don't have a place for you right now. Soon enough, I expect we'll have a home - either on Val Shohob, if they'll have us, or Ungstir if we are turned away from Val Shohob. Either way: We'll keep you in your box for the time being. We will be on Val Shohob in a day or two, assuming Doctor Ranix lifts the quarantine." He looks around the room again. "Any questions?"

Genive shakes her head.

Carlon remains quiet, though the desire to speak is evident on his face.

Staunton enters quietly and takes a seat near the door.

Volaya's face goes silently expressionless as Porter speaks, and her eyes skim over to Marlan quickly and then return to the Colonel.

Xavin looks sideways towards the prisoner, his hand tightning minutely on the shackles.

Porter nods curtly. "All right. Recruit Carazz, return the prisoner to the crate."

Marlan frowns a tiny bit but remains silent.

Xavin swallows. "On my honor, Commander." He presses his free hand between the prisoner's shoulderblades. "Mr. Carlon, after you."

Carlon continues torward the exit, face emotionless.

Genive watches Xavin and the prisoner silently. She pushes her chair back ready to stand.

A beep seems to come from the direction of Marlan.

Volaya watches Carlon and his keeper pass her silently, face turning to follow them.

Porter glances toward Marlan, then Staunton. "Doctor, Major...let's talk about the quarantine situation."

Marlan looks down and glances at something on her belt. She looks up and over at Porter and asks, "Can i have two minutes to contact medbay, Sir?"

Porter nods to Marlan. "Certainly."

Ashfoot stands, his expression emotionless, his tail waving only very slightly. "Sir, I suppose that I am now required to stay here with you," he says, interrupting their conversation tentatively.

Porter nods to Ashfoot. "That you are, Lieutenant. Do you have transfer papers, or should I wait for the generals to recommend an assignment for you?"

Marlan nods and stands, heading off towards a communication up-link in the back corner of the room. "Raxin here, what do you got John?" she asks as a man's face appears on the vid-screen. The background is that of medbay.

Volaya presses her lips together, then takes a step further into the room. Her sunglasses are slipped off, and she looks at Porter for a moment before speaking. "Sir?"

"The red blood cell count is down, doctor," replies John. "But perhaps not significantly. It's difficult to tell."

Porter raises a hand to Volaya. "Take a number." He waits for Ashfoot's answer.

Genive sits back in her chair again. Now watching the docter.

Marlan narrows her eyes some, "Anything else odd about the results? Whats her WBC at and have we identified any unknown antigens in the blood stream?"

Ashfoot shakes his head, "I'm afraid not, sir. I was sent in a bit of a rush," he admits.

Volaya nods slightly, sliding her dunglasses back on. She waits, standing near the wall, slouching a little.

"White blood cells normal," replies John, looking down at a datapad off-screen. "We haven't noticed anything in the blood that's unusual, apart from the reduced red blood cell count. It could be nothing, doctor."

Porter nods to Ashfoot, chuckling. "All right, well - make yourself at home in the bunkroom and Major Staunton and I will sort it out as soon as possible. I'll talk to the generals about your status."

"Yes, sir," replies Ashfoot smartly and he salutes.

Porter returns the salute, then looks toward Volaya. "What's on your mind?"

Marlan nods slightly, "Alright, do me a favor. Keep running that blood through the machines and hoopin' take out a microscope and get a sample ready. Don't trust those machines to take care of it all for you. If anythign at all pops up, let me know immediately."

Ashfoot walks briskly out of the briefing room in the direction of the crew quarters.

Staunton stands, straightening the sleeves of her jacket, and approaches the colonel silently.

Volaya glances at MArlan again, then shrugs. "Well, just wondering if you've talked to Eellisa yet, sir."

"...do we have a microscope on board?" asks John with a frown, puzzled.

Porter lifts his eyebrows. "Doctor Ranix has examined her. We're awaiting the results. Either way, I expect we'll be bound for Nialesia soon." He looks toward Staunton. "Major, remind me to talk to General Tominov about this Rightseeker situation."

Marlan throws her hands up in the air, "IF we don't have a microscope on board talk to supply. If they can't ge me a hoopin microscope they're useless!"

Marlan's voice rises at the end, the entire room clearly hearing her exclamation.

"Yes, doctor," replies John with a faint smile and he makes a note on his datapad.

Volaya holds silence for a little bit, then shrugs and nods infifferently.

Staunton nods curtly, already removing a datapad from her jacket pocket. "Aye, Sir."

Porter rubs his forehead, then looks back at Volaya. "Anything else I should know about Eellisa?"

Marlan nods and relaxes some, voice lowering to a normal level, "Alright John, Thanks. Raxin out." she finishes, turning off the viewpad.

Volaya opens her mouth, closes it, and grins. "You know her better than I do, Sir. She wants to get back home."

Porter nods to Volaya. "Don't we all?" he asks sardonically. "But, luckily, she still has one. We'll get her back there. She might even be the key to saving her people at this point."

Genive leans forward and grabs a glass from the tray. She fills it with icetea and takes a sip, listening to the conversation.

The Light Singer's grin tightens. "Yeah, well, we can hope," she mutters. "I've been looking into the plantlife there too and found some interesting things, but that can easily wait."

Porter drops his mouth open slightly, then looks toward Staunton. "Major, I just realized something. I'm talking about showing up on Val Shohob, hat in hand, and I haven't even done the courtesy of alerting the Mystics we're coming. Could you be sure to send a communique to Eye Balthazar? Tell him we'll be en route in two days at the most."

"I already have something drawn up for you to approve, Sir," she says, datapad still in hand.

Volaya's face turns towards Marlan again, and she moves towards the doctor casually.

Porter chuckles and nods. "Good. Thanks for being a step ahead of me on that one, Major."

The hint of a smile lights Staunton's eyes. "Of course. You wanted to speak with the doctor and me, Sir?"

Porter nods, then looks from Staunton to Marlan. "Yes. Doctor, let's hear it."

Volaya doesn't quite sigh at this new monopolisation of Marlan's attention, waiting quietly again.

Marlan heads back towards teh table, "Got a few different issues, lets start with the Pwaddiwan." she says and sits, "The good news is as of right now we havent' found a rise in white blood cell count or any unknown antigens. The bad news is that her red blood cell count is a little lower then it was on her first exam. Could be nothing..could be the beginning of this whatever it is. Until we know more about the epidemic or more time passes i can't be sure."

Porter nods to Marlan. "Which means we need to compare notes with the HNS folks on Nialesia, either way."

Xavin steps through the airlock into the briefing room, standing near the doorway with his arms clasped loosely in front of him.

Marlan nods, "The news gets a little worse..or better depending. It seems the Pwadiwann's genome is rather similar to that of Sivadians. While this is good news. It means whateve it is that is affecting her people, may affect us as well."

Volaya hovers at a comfortable distance from Marlan. She glances down briefly, and her aura springs back, calm low green, where there was darkness before.

Porter tilts his head. "Similar to the Sivadians? So, they aren't actually natives of Nialesia, in the technical sense? They weren't an indigent species?"

Genive sips her ice tea and continues listening quietly.

Volaya's aura flickers with a trace of orange-yellow, and she nods to herself, lips pursed.

Marlan shakes her head, "No Sir. Not unless astronomical odds are at play here."

Porter chuckles. "I don't believe in that kind of coincidence." He looks toward Staunton. "Major, make arrangements for our immediate departure. We'll refuel at Luna, then head out to Nialesia." He gestures toward Hunter. "The sergeant's not a bad pilot."

Marlan repeats, "Her genomoes are INCREDIBLY similar to that of Sividians. To be honest it looks like a Sividian whose undergone some genetic mutations. Quite possible with Sividian technology."

Staunton says, "I'll talk to the engineering crew, Sir."

Hunter arches an eyebrow slightly.

Xavin clips the shackles onto a beltloop, curling the remaining shackle into a small black leather case that hangs from the security belt.

Porter nods to Hunter. "To the bridge, Mr. Hunter. The coordinates *should* be in the navigation computer. Luna. Little ball of rock. Then we'll head to Nialesia."

The Vollistan female drops into a chair, finally, crossing her arms on the surface of the table.

Hunter nods as he stands up, "Aye, sir." He quickly steps out of the room.

Command Center 

The central operations facility of this Wasp-class destroyer is a blunted trapezoid that angles from the 15-foot-wide forward bulkhead and graduates to 30-feet-wide at the aft end of the command hull.

A holographic viewscreen provides amplified visuals of the surrounding cosmos, while square portholes can be found to starboard and port on the bulkheads until reaching the elevated console station "U" that cradles the command chair and the navigation console.

A pair of steps can be seen port, starboard and aft, leading from the command well to the rail-encircled "U" that houses the science, communications, atmospheric monitoring and cargo management consoles.

The "U"-deck and the top of the encircling rail are covered with navy blue impact cushioning. The lower command well, forward to the prow, has uncarpeted gray metal plates - some marked as AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY - BREACH CONTAINMENT RISK.

Directly aft from the command chair, at the bottom of the "U," is the hatch that leads to the rest of the vessel.

Porter walks down into the command well. "All right, Sergeant, you may proceed." He settles into the command chair.

Hunter is at the nav console, finishing up his pre-flight check, "All systems nominal...pre-flight complete."

The ship rumbles as it lifts off the ground and arches skyward.

You feel a sudden jerk as the ship speeds up.

Staunton sits and nods toward the navigation console.

Xavin enters into the Command Center in a brisk walk, his face is slightly pale, forehead clamy.

Porter is sitting in the command chair at the center of the command well, checking the status displays. "We've got plenty of fuel to make the trip to Luna. I want limited contact with the Lunite citizenry when we refuel, however."

Hunter glances between a few of the display, checking his course one last time.

Xavin takes the stairs down to the lower command post, approaching the well's center. "Excuse me, Colonel." He dips his head; the Timonae's voice quakes slightly.

Hunter flips a few switches, "Preparing for jump as soon as we clear the gravity well."

Porter glances toward Xavin. "Yes, Recruit?"

Hunter glances at the display, "Gravity well cleared. Standby for jump." He reaches out and presses a button on the console.

The ship roars and lurches as it enters OtherSpace.

Your mind wanders for a moment as the ship travels through hyperspace.

Hunter leans back in the chair, "ETA to Luna...22 minutes."

Porter nods to Hunter. "Thank you, Sergeant."

Xavin licks his bottom lip. "May I." He inhales sharply before speaking. "May I suggest, Commander, that we.." He braces himself against a nearby railing. "That we refuel at another location."

Porter raises his eyebrows, looking back toward Xavin. "Something I need to know, Mr. Carazz?"

Staunton looks back over her shoulder again, this time her gaze is on the recruit.

Eellisa walks into the command center carrying a couple of bundles of fur. She glances at the viewscreen and then back at the crew on the bridge.

Your mind wanders for a moment as the ship travels through hyperspace.

Xavin swallows and shakes his head. "No sir." He falls silent, as if there is nothing more to say.

Porter narrows his eyes. "Recruit, let's not get off to a bad start. You're a security officer on this ship. If you know of a good reason why we should not refuel on Luna, I'd better hear it from your mouth pronto."

Hunter leans forward and checks his displays. He nods slightly as his attention turns to the main display on the console.

Your mind wanders for a moment as the ship travels through hyperspace.

Xavin dips his head. "No sir, no reason. I apologize for the interuption sir."

Porter sighs. "Fine." He looks toward Hunter. "Proceed on course."

Hunter nods, "Aye, sir. Holding on present course."

Your mind wanders for a moment as the ship travels through hyperspace.

Xavin licks his bottom lip, tongue moistening the chapped flesh. "I'll check on the condition of the other officers, sir." His eyes are averted to the ground, brow damp.

Eellisa walks closers, she watches the viewscreen and calls out, " I be hea'dy? We go now?"

Porter looks back toward Xavin, brow knitting. "Recruit, are you *sure* you're okay?"

The ship reverberates slightly as it speeds through hyperspace.

Hunter glances over his shoulder for a moment, quickly looking over Xavin before turning back to the console.

Xavin nods, looking up towards Porter, steel-blue eyes firm. "A bit of travel-sickness is all, sir. I'll grow accustomed to it." He manages a smile.

Staunton turns her attention back to the console, jaw set tightly.

Porter taps his fingers lightly on his armrest. "I haven't received a physical on you yet, Mr. Carazz. Report to sickbay and get it done. Immediately." His tone doesn't appear to brook any defiance.

You feel the hum of the ship around you as it travels through hyperspace.

Xavin nods curtly. "Yes, sir." He quickly makes his way up the stairs, and out towards the corridor.

Your mind wanders for a moment as the ship travels through hyperspace.

Hunter checks his display, "ETA 10 minutes."

The ship reverberates slightly as it speeds through hyperspace.

Porter nods. He looks toward Eellisa. "We're heading to Luna first, then on to your homeworld."

You feel the hum of the ship around you as it travels through hyperspace.

Hunter checks over a few more displays, "Fuel reserves down to 59%, ETA...6 minutes."

Eellisa nods slowly, her expression tight, "Tank you Co'one." She turns and walks back to the corridor.

You feel the hum of the ship around you as it travels through hyperspace.

Hunter looks up as a light starts to flash on his console, "Fuel reseves now below 50%."

Porter nods to Hunter.

Your mind wanders for a moment as the ship travels through hyperspace.

You feel the ship begin to slow.

The ship shudders as it drops out of OtherSpace.

After landing for a refueling stop on Luna, the Minerva continues her journey to Nialesia...

Command Center 

The central operations facility of this Wasp-class destroyer is a blunted trapezoid that angles from the 15-foot-wide forward bulkhead and graduates to 30-feet-wide at the aft end of the command hull.

A holographic viewscreen provides amplified visuals of the surrounding cosmos, while square portholes can be found to starboard and port on the bulkheads until reaching the elevated console station "U" that cradles the command chair and the navigation console.

A pair of steps can be seen port, starboard and aft, leading from the command well to the rail-encircled "U" that houses the science, communications, atmospheric monitoring and cargo management consoles.

The "U"-deck and the top of the encircling rail are covered with navy blue impact cushioning. The lower command well, forward to the prow, has uncarpeted gray metal plates - some marked as AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY - BREACH CONTAINMENT RISK.

Directly aft from the command chair, at the bottom of the "U," is the hatch that leads to the rest of the vessel.

Hunter glances over his shoulder, "Colonel, I have a question."

Porter rests his hands on his knees. "Ask away, Sergeant."

Hunter nods, "Judging from our last encounter with the Sividians, do you think there will be any serious problems when we arrive?"

Porter chuckles. "Probably. But I don't think we've got any reason to be at odds on this matter. They got paranoid about whether we'd give them the coordinates. They don't have much to be paranoid about now."

Hunter nods and turns back to the console, "Preparing for jump." He presses a button on the console. He grumbles slightly as he double check his reading, "Forgot about Earth's well."

Hunter glances over his shoulder again, "I only asked because I don't mind fighting when there's a reason. This just seems like a trivial reason to me."

Porter nods. "Agreed." He leans back in the command chair. "I appreciate your input from the tribunal tonight, by the way, Sergeant. It's good to see someone can make mistakes and learn from them."

Hunter nods slightly, "The Captain...my father...didn't raise a complete idiot, sir."

Porter smiles. "It's good to see that. Keep up the good work." He presses a button on his armrest, opening a data entry display.

Hunter adds, "And I just want to get back to the way it was before the incident. People make mistakes, it's how we handle those mistakes that make us the person that we are. I go out of my way not to make the same mistake twice and to work twice as hard to let everyone know it was an isolated incident."

Hunter turns back to the console, "Ok, this time we're really jumping." He presses the button again.

The ship roars and lurches as it enters OtherSpace.

Porter nods. "So far, you've proven that. The major suggested, and I tend to agree, that you suffered as much from a lack of effective guidance and leadership as a lack of good judgment. You need the judgment part to be an effective leader, however. I think you've got potential."

You feel the hum of the ship around you as it travels through hyperspace.

Hunter nods slightly, "I hope to prove you right on that, Colonel."

Hunter heh's slightly, "The potential part that is...not the lack of good judgment."

Porter chuckles and nods. "I got it."

You feel the hum of the ship around you as it travels through hyperspace.

Hunter glances over his display, "ETA 4 minutes."

The ship reverberates slightly as it speeds through hyperspace.

The ship shudders as it drops out of OtherSpace.

Hunter presses a button and says, "Making a slight course correction."

Hunter presses the button again, keeping his finger close by.

The ship roars and lurches as it enters OtherSpace.

Porter is sitting in the command chair, watching the viewscreen.

The ship shudders as it drops out of OtherSpace.

Jobe fades into the command center slowly. His shimmering blueness illuminating a corner of the room.

Porter blinks, then looks around. "Good evening, Jobe."

Hunter glances over his shoulder quickly, "Just have to make one slight adjustment, then a quick 3 second jump. Hopefully I'll bring us out close this time."

Hunter smiles slightly, "We're 360 hm away."

Porter nods. "Good work, Sergeant."

~Good Evening, Mortals Porter and Hunter.~ Jobe replies, and then asks ~Where is the ship going?~

Porter gestures toward the viewscreen. "Nialesia. Bit of a medical emergency to cope with."

Hunter glances over his shoulder, "Evening, Jobe."

Hunter glances over his displays, "ETA...1 minute 10 seconds."

Jobe asks, ~Emergency?~

You feel the ship begin to slow.

Porter nods. "An epidemic."

You feel a slight force as the ship glides to a halt ...

Hunter checks the readout on his displays, "We're in orbit, Colonel. Orders?"

~Is the Vanguard affected by this epidemic?~ Again from Jobe.

Porter looks over at Hunter. "Descend." Then, to Jobe: "Not so far. But one of our passengers is a native of this planet."

Hunter nods, "Aye sir."

The ship shudders as the drop rockets engage and the ship begins its descent.

Jobe states, ~But it does not affect your group of mortals.~

Porter shrugs. "None of us have shown signs of illness yet, no. Let's hope it stays that way."

The landing struts thump against the surface.

Hunter nods slightly, "We're down, Colonel. Fuel reserves at 66%."

Porter nods. "Shut down non-essential systems to conserve fuel." He stands, then begins to walk up toward the back of the command center.

A little flicker of confusion comes from Jobe before it's stifled with another question, ~What do you gain from helping?~

Hunter nods, "Aye, sir." He pauses for a moment, "With your permission, I'd like to take the Gray Wolf out and run a patrol in the next couple of days. See if there's anything intersting out there."

Porter stops near the corridor, glancing at the ceiling. "We gain goodwill. We help others. Who knows when we're going to need help ourselves." He nods to Hunter. "Permission granted, Sergeant."

The incessant hum from the ship's engines suddenly fades away.

Jobe seems satisfied by this answer, for another question does not come from him.

Porter walks into the corridor.

Medical/Science Center 

The vessel's chief medical officer and staff maintain a relatively spotless facility, with exam and operating tables, vital sign monitors and the latest in hi-tech gadgetry. Pharmaceuticals are stored in code-sealed lockers. A medical computer provides symptoms and potential diagnoses at the touch of a button. Emblazoned in red on the gunmetal gray aft bulkhead is the double-snake entwined staff known among medical practitioners as the cadeucus.

Staunton sits in a waiting area across from Xavin.

Xavin nods, staring at the now-empty cup. "If you want me off your ship, Major, I'll understand."

Porter strides into the medbay, snapping a datapad to his belt. "Major, we're planetside on Nialesia, and we appear to have...uh...well, go figure, we beat the Sivadians here." He hears this last comment and his eyebrows lift.

Staunton straightens and comes to her feet as the Colonel enters, her tone businesslike and cool. "Well, right now we are under a quarrantine and that's not an option, Mr. Carazz," she says, then turns toward the door. "Good to hear, Colonel."

Porter nods, looking from Staunton to Carazz, then back to Staunton. "The quarantine should be lifted so that essential medical personnel can depart, assuming they go through decontamination procedures when leaving and coming back."

Xavin rises as the Colonel approaches, bracing himself on the arm of the chair. "Colonel." He dips his head.

Porter nods to Xavin. "Feeling any better?"

Hunter steps into the Med-lab and glances around, "How's the Recruit holding up. First jump on a ship this size is torture on the stomach."

Xavin manages a smile. "Much better, yes sir." He nods towards Hunter. "Yes sir, thank you."

Hunter chuckles slightly, "No need to call me sir. I'm not an officer. Sergeant will do."

Staunton folds her arms across her chest and studies the deck.

Porter glances toward Staunton, nods, then turns and steps out.