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Damage Control

Posted on Mon Jan 10th, 2011 @ 1:20pm by Lieutenant Commander Deanna King & Civilian Haqtaj Matlh

Mission: Flawed. Season 2, Episode 3

Zor's instinct had been to transport over to the damaged freighter along with Ulonova and the medical teams, but as the Commanding Officer of a station this size, his place was in Ops, much o his chagrin. The journey to Ops had seemed to take an age with the amount of frightened people that stopped him along the way asking for reassurance that nothing bad was happening. Even he could see that they all knew from the activity of the Engineering, Medical and Security teams that something was happening that could be a major issue. However, he gave what little comfort he could, understanding the Humanoid need for comfort in times of uncertainty.

Ops was what he had expected, cluttered with people, each running about trying to confirm or deny the suspicion he had. At the eye of the storm down at the Ops table were Commander Mason and Commander King.
"Krissy", he called over the din as he descended the stairs into the Operations pit. "Report!"

Mason jerked under King's hand as she attempted to stem the bleeding wound to her head. She felt her face whiten: "Captain, damage reports are still coming in, internal sensors have been knocked offline, we've received unconfirmed reports of missing persons, no contact from the freighter... all in all a mess really."

Once again the possibilities were running rampant through Zor's minds eye and each one turned to be a grim as the last. They needed help in dealing with this.
"Zor to Ambassador Haqtaj, please report to Operations. We are in need of your assistance!"

,'. I will be there as soon as I am able, Captain ,'.

Haqtaj shifted slightly and tried again. With a heav the heavy metal beam began to shift off her legs, but then settled back. Haqtaj closed her eyes and breathed slowly. You will NOT pass out now, Warrior! she told herself.

He closed the line, noticing that Counselor King was finally seeming to recover her senses enough. "Counselor, how you feeling?"

"I am fine Captain," said Deanna.

The lift doors opened and Haqtaj appeared, though far from her usual state. Her legs were covered in the rich purple of Klingon blood and there were burn marks on her face. She was using a long Polearm weapon as a crutch.

"May I assume the station is once again in some trouble, Captain?"

Mason glanced around at the entrace made by Haqtaj and rolled her eyes in silence returning her attention to building a picture of the stations situation.

"You could say that! I'll assume you felt the collision of the freighter now in an unstable docked position within our docking ring?"
Zor didn't move his eyes from the information being displayed before him on the Ops table.

Haqtaj took a few stepps inside the room, "It wasn't one of mine."

"No Ambassador. It was a Cardassian medical transport. It was delivering several pathogens that have been attacking their colonie worlds in this area so we could see if we can find some cures for them. With the collision we are now running a very high risk of being a severe contamination risk".

"How can the Empire and House Matlh be of assistance?" she grimaced. "Is one of your medics available, or are they all occupied?"

This was the point Zor moved towards her, lowwring his voice to almost a whisper. "We need Klingon assistance with policing the area. We cannot allow any ships from this station to leave and potentially spread the contamination to other area's... Can you help Ambassador?"

Haqtaj considered, "I could ask for voulnteers from the two ships currently on station. House Ghobe’ may be reluctant, but House Cha’DIch has a Negh'Var with people to spare, and I am sure the Ghobe' K't'inga will happily aid them in keeping would be escapees from leaving."

She kept her voice low for the Captain's ears only, "I cannot vouchsafe for the conduct of house ghobe'. It may be they become a little too zealous. Also we will be asking members of House Cha’DIch to put their lives on the line by coming on board a quarantined alien station. Illness is one of the most shameful ways for a Klingon warrior to die. There may be repercussions for this, but I see that you are already up to the hilt in dangerous repercusions."

She coughed and a smattering of purple blood appeared on her lips, "May I use one of the Comms here to put in the calls?"

"Ambassador, you should know I cannot allow anyone to leave the station until the threat of contamination is lifted. I need ships in the area. I cannot let any of your people away from the station!"
The words carried no threat and he felt for the Ambassador. Dying of some unseen enemy was a dishonor to a Klingon.

Haqtaj met his eyes, "We understand each other, Captain. I will ask for volunteers to man the docking ports, but I will not order anyone to do so. If they come, they will know the risks."

She moved to one of the auxilary comms chairs, pushing the NCo out of the way and all but collapsing into the chair.

The startled calls from the officer roughly pushed aside again made Mason turn from her task to watch as the Ambassador literally threw her weight around. Injured as she was Haqtaj still did not possess any manners. And Romano didn't seem to batter an eye. Whatever the two of them spoke about in undertones clearly was important to give her so much leeway.

The Commander gritted her teeth with displeasure and bit her tongue to remain silence since the last time she'd spoke out of place with the Ambassador it turned incredibly sour.

It was all happening to fast, nothing made sense, thought Romano. Despite the fact that nothing had yet come in from the away team already picking their way through the damaged freighter.
"Counselor, I need you to work with Lieutenant Rodriguez on dealing with the civilian population in this situation. He's already working his way around the docking ring sealing off the docking ports, but I need someone to start working through the habitat ring dealing with the bush fires!"

'Sure captain," said Deanna. She was not sure what she could, but she would try the best she could.

Haqtaj reappeared at Zor's side, "House Ghobe' and house Cha’DIch have both agreed to patrol the station and enforce quarantne. Furthermore 126 warriors of House Cha’DIch have volunteered to serve. I assume you do not need that many. How many shall I ask for?"

"I have a sneaking suspicion that we'll need as many as you can get!"
A hollow look passed over Zor's face as the real weight of the situation started to weigh down on him.



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