09-11-2026, 10:13 PM
==Temp NPC: Security NCO N’Zinga Vincent – Vulcan/Human==
A fresh-faced Science officer announced himself to the Bridge, asking Captain Braggins for permission to breathe, basically. N’Zinga was unimpressed, and did not give the officer more than a glance in order to satisfy his own curiosity on what sex and species they appeared to be. Andorian. Male. Young, as expected. They launched into Condition Grey –if “launched” was the right word– and the Security officer felt as if the ship’s condition matched his own mood.
Finally, a Security officer made their way to the Bridge. N’Zinga was relieved that somebody more competant than him now held some sort of authority for their department. He was an NCO, and he liked his position right where it was: a cog in the machine. Now with that pressure off his back, he could contently continue to feed information to the main department as to what was happening on the Bridge. Whereas he had been hating on this particular job before, he now felt fine with doing it.
[Wright to d’Tor’an.]
Oh, good. Now she can actually talk to someone on the Bridge, and I don’t have to worry about her yelling at me for not giving her enough information.
[Bridge is in modified Grey Mode. Warp core remains at minimal output by Captain’s order. Weapons are on standby. Lowry has been instructed to match our posture. Non-essential movement is restricted. I am taking auxiliary Security monitoring from the Bridge.]
Oh. NCO Vincent thought again. That’s me. Okay. Good. Great. Good. Bye. He stuck around to be informed as to the rest of Wright’s report, not wanting to be caught ignorant when he went back down to Main Security.
[Current internal focus: transporter activity, unauthorized compartment access, weapons-locker status, environmental pressure shifts, and command-system intrusion attempts. Response teams are holding position unless ordered or hostile action is confirmed.]
Almost at the same time Wright’s messages went out, messages from d’Tor’an came in.
[Security to Science: Request for information regarding recently-launched probe.] [Message automatically CC’d to Captain Braggins]
[Security to Tactical: Request sensor log packet recently sent to your station.] [Message automatically CC’d to Captain Braggins]
Multiple stations lit up with the news of the surge from the edge of the system. Multiple people reacted to the additional interpretations of what else that news held. N’Zinga didn’t have to guess: it was universally bad news.
Captain Braggins called for battle stations, and the Vulcan mutt started moving his skinny butt in a hurry towards the turbolift. He tried to gather as much visual information as he could before making his escape, and none of what he saw was good. The area they were in was now absolutely swarming with Cardassians, and they were but one little Starfleet ship, trying to pose as rubble. The tiny ship they had along as escort was nothing but a speck, and N’Zinga knew with certainty that any of these enemy ships would make quick work of them. The Starbase, too. The Starbase was a lost cause. The Romulans could destroy it now if they wanted to. They could also simply board it and make it into a floating casino, for all it was worth; it didn’t matter.
As he stepped into the turbolift, N’Zinga thought it may have been a shame that he didn’t have any sort of religion. He could be praying to a god or goddess right now. Even then, he wasn’t sure he’d risk it, and risk those thoughts being the thing that gave them away to the Romulans. Either way you cut it, he was sure he’d find out about the concept of an after-life within the next couple of hours.
==NCO Debbie Downer will be somewhere between here and Main Security if anyone’s looking for him!==
A fresh-faced Science officer announced himself to the Bridge, asking Captain Braggins for permission to breathe, basically. N’Zinga was unimpressed, and did not give the officer more than a glance in order to satisfy his own curiosity on what sex and species they appeared to be. Andorian. Male. Young, as expected. They launched into Condition Grey –if “launched” was the right word– and the Security officer felt as if the ship’s condition matched his own mood.
Finally, a Security officer made their way to the Bridge. N’Zinga was relieved that somebody more competant than him now held some sort of authority for their department. He was an NCO, and he liked his position right where it was: a cog in the machine. Now with that pressure off his back, he could contently continue to feed information to the main department as to what was happening on the Bridge. Whereas he had been hating on this particular job before, he now felt fine with doing it.
[Wright to d’Tor’an.]
Oh, good. Now she can actually talk to someone on the Bridge, and I don’t have to worry about her yelling at me for not giving her enough information.
[Bridge is in modified Grey Mode. Warp core remains at minimal output by Captain’s order. Weapons are on standby. Lowry has been instructed to match our posture. Non-essential movement is restricted. I am taking auxiliary Security monitoring from the Bridge.]
Oh. NCO Vincent thought again. That’s me. Okay. Good. Great. Good. Bye. He stuck around to be informed as to the rest of Wright’s report, not wanting to be caught ignorant when he went back down to Main Security.
[Current internal focus: transporter activity, unauthorized compartment access, weapons-locker status, environmental pressure shifts, and command-system intrusion attempts. Response teams are holding position unless ordered or hostile action is confirmed.]
Almost at the same time Wright’s messages went out, messages from d’Tor’an came in.
[Security to Science: Request for information regarding recently-launched probe.] [Message automatically CC’d to Captain Braggins]
[Security to Tactical: Request sensor log packet recently sent to your station.] [Message automatically CC’d to Captain Braggins]
Multiple stations lit up with the news of the surge from the edge of the system. Multiple people reacted to the additional interpretations of what else that news held. N’Zinga didn’t have to guess: it was universally bad news.
Captain Braggins called for battle stations, and the Vulcan mutt started moving his skinny butt in a hurry towards the turbolift. He tried to gather as much visual information as he could before making his escape, and none of what he saw was good. The area they were in was now absolutely swarming with Cardassians, and they were but one little Starfleet ship, trying to pose as rubble. The tiny ship they had along as escort was nothing but a speck, and N’Zinga knew with certainty that any of these enemy ships would make quick work of them. The Starbase, too. The Starbase was a lost cause. The Romulans could destroy it now if they wanted to. They could also simply board it and make it into a floating casino, for all it was worth; it didn’t matter.
As he stepped into the turbolift, N’Zinga thought it may have been a shame that he didn’t have any sort of religion. He could be praying to a god or goddess right now. Even then, he wasn’t sure he’d risk it, and risk those thoughts being the thing that gave them away to the Romulans. Either way you cut it, he was sure he’d find out about the concept of an after-life within the next couple of hours.
==NCO Debbie Downer will be somewhere between here and Main Security if anyone’s looking for him!==