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[Lt. JG Neva Cordon, ACEO|USS-Challenger|Briefing Room]

Neva quickly took her seat and looked around, stomach in knots. She saw familiar and unfamiliar faces around her, and she sighed softly through her nose. Her lips turned into a thin line, black eyes finding the Captain and holding them there.

When the Captain spoke of helping one another get their footing in their new positions, Neva pulled out the PADD she'd put in her kit before leaving Engineering. Tapping quickly, she was ready to say something when he reminded them of what they were sent out for. Neva nodded and smiled a little, gazing out the windows. The Great Wide Somewhere...

Neva was slapped back to reality when she realized the room had gone silent for a long moment. Looking around at the others, she sighed and raised a hand sheepishly.

"Uh Captain...forgive me for this, but do we have the right TO throw the idiots in the brig when they get lippy at us? Or the right to just slap 'em upside the head or kneecaps and tell them to get back to work?" Neva's whole face suddenly turned bright red after she spoke.

[very]

In the wake of the Doomsday Machine and the return of the Away Team, the entire Medical Staff was activated and brought back on duty. Jalen was doing the rounds when he saw one of the ensigns from the away team awaken and try to sit up. He rushed to her side and helped stabalize her and place the pillows behind her so as to ensure she didn't lose consciousness. He then went about scanning her and ensuring that she was stable. He did so while listening to her insistence on leaving. At the moment Sickbay was rather packed, and he made a call. He reached into a bedside cart and retrieved a neural monitor and gentle grasped the woman's chin in his fingers and placed it on her temple.

"œOf course, you can, sometimes the best healing happens at home. But you'll have to wear this neural monitor for now and call in immediately should you feel strange at all. I'll have one of the orderlies escort you back to your quarters." Jalen then signaled for an orderly and ordered him to take the woman back to her quarters.

"œIs there anything else you require?"

[Ensign Neva Cordon|USS-Challenger|Sickbay->Neva's Quarters]

Neva smiled and held still as the doctor put the monitor on her forehead. Once done, she took in his instructions and nodded as she made her reply.

"Yes, Doctor, I will make sure of that. I have no wish to deal with that again!" Despite her smile, she shivered at the memory for a moment.

Neva hopped off the Biobed and joined the orderly. She said her "thank you's" and goodbyes to the doctor and half led-half walked bedside the orderly. She made idle chit-chat with him, trying to stay away from the reason for her convalescence.

Once at her quarters, she sighed and rolled her eyes as the orderly insisted he make sure she got in bed. She led him in, went to the bed, kicked off her boots, and got under the covers. Settling her blankets how she wanted them, she looked at the orderly and raised an eyebrow.

"Mission accomplished now?" she asked wryly. The orderly nodded, waved to her, and left the room. Once she was sure he was gone, she hopped out of bed and took a very hot shower and got into more restful clothes.

Neva grabbed her PADD and jumped into bed again, pulling the covers up to her shoulders. She then sighed in contentment and proceded to read her trashy romance novel.

Ensign Tora Zalos|Mess Hall|USS Challenger]

"I'm told big happenings are par for the course for any Starfleet assignment. Or most, anyway. I signed up for this, didn't I? So honestly, it's fine." Though Tora smiled at the other, she really wished that her first-ever mission would've gone much differently. Like, really, who expects to die horribly thrice over on their first-ever assignment and within the first few days? Tora had not expected puppuee and sunshine and rainbows, but the events of the past few days had been all the way on the other end of the spectrum of dangerousness.

"Other recipes, you say? Other types of bread?" Tora's eyes, bright amber, gleamed with interest. "Chocolate and coffee brioche with chips in? Because I love that kind of thing - Risans do pastries and confectionery like nowhere else, I swear by that assertion."

[Ensign Neva Cordon|USS-Challenger|Mess Hall]

Neva sat forward, arms crossed on the table before her. She smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's sort of what my dad would call 'fightin words'." She laughed and shook her head dismissively. She sat back against the window ledge and her seat, smile intact. "I learned to bake from my mother and Dad made his own contributions now & again. We're going to have to commandeer a corner of the Mess Hall to see what we can do."

Neva sat straight again, grabbed her sandwich, and set up to eat. She looked a little embarrassed now. "That's if you want to. I'm not gonna hold you to it, Tora. Honest." She looked Tora in the eye to show her sincerity.

Neva waved her sandwich toward her new friend. "We should eat. Your food is probably cold now cuz of me."

[{NPC}]

[{NPC} Enarrain Nirreen of House Caligula | Bridge | IRS Opalius | En Route to the Ildius Nebula]

The whole bridge was silent as they stared at one half of the viewscreen, channeled in from hacked satellites around Jupiter. It was the planet-sized cube against a lone Galaxy-class starship. A class of starship supposedly retired recently. But what was the surprise of it all was what was labeled on the starship: USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D.

"Where in the fiery elements did it come from?" snapped Enarrain Nirreen not for the first time when it was called in of a ship not part of the Borgified Starfleet heading to Jupiter. She had previously enjoyed watching the bombardment of the primary orbital facilities around Earth, but even as the fleet was preparing to bombard the planet, Nirreen was focused on Jupiter.

It dove within the cube. Nirreen wondered if it will meet its destruction within........only for the ship to re-emerge and the cube explode in a fireball, the rest of Starfleet breaking from Borg control.

"NOOOOO!!!!!!"

All too rarely has Nirreen lost control like this, and it had been decades since her last burst of fury. Nonetheless, the sight that the one man she was worried about had accomplished the impossible, had thwarted the greatest plan to destroy the Federation, set her wild. The ancient Vulcan in the days before Surak, with the uncontrollable rage demonstrated with utmost strength, strength similar to a Vulcan's because of her and other Romulans living in a desert planet much like Vulcan, manifested in her as she ripped the chair she sat in from the floor and slammed it repeatedly to the ground.

It was understandable why she was reacting like this. She had a role in the planning with the Praetorians and the rest of the League of Typhon, and they were banking on the Borg-controlled Starfleet to aid them against the outer Federation worlds. And now this. None was more angry than Nirreen.

Finally, Praetor Hakul came over and pinned her by the arms. "Nirreen! Enough!" And he wouldn't let her go until she was calmed.

"Damn it all, Hakul, haven't you seen...?"

"I saw," said Hakul sternly. "Centurion, get me the Praetorians."

Then the pale faces of Domitian and Nakir came on, replacing the sickening triumph of the Enterprise and the Titan flying back to the fleet in style of an honor guard. Nakir looked to be just as furious; his teeth were still clenched and bloodstains were evident in the background. Domitian showed no sign, other than hard eyes, one of them twitching.

"Praetors, I trust you just heard?" asked Hakul.

"That we have," Domitian said, smoothly but angry; Nakir only growled in assent, trusting himself not to talk.

"And we have all been giving the orders for the fleets to prepare. But Starfleet is no longer under Borg control!" shouted Nirreen.

"As our Tzenketh friend, Belrenank Tor Tel-AA, is so fond of saying, 'Be it as it may,'" said Domitian, "Starfleet is greatly weakened, thanks to the Borg."

"Wounded, but can still strike back!" said Nirreen. "We relaxed ourselves too much! We thought we could have all the time in the next year or so to give the Borg time to destroy the Federation until we all can assemble at the Typhon Expanse...!"

"And we still have a year," said Domitian.

"How so?" snapped Nakir.

"The Federation will be on the alert, thanks to Changelings and our news," said Domitian. "We can build more ships with help from our Dominion friends and methods of stealth. Meantime, we wait for the Federation to relax their guard. Let them lull themselves into a state of complacency. That's when we will strike."

Dawning came upon Nirreen and she nodded with a grin. "That we can do. We are long-lived, we can be patient. And hopefully our Changeling friends will lull them into complacency sooner. But the rest of the League of Typhon will need some soothing over, least of all our Cold friend."

"Leave the politics to us," said Domitian. "How long until you reach the Idilus Nebula?"

"Shortly," said Hakul. "We will see about the status of our fleet and send out messages to our allies to keep preparing our ships, albeit clandestinely."

"Good," said Nakir, and the viewscreen was off.

[Commander Nira Said | Sickbay | Deck Seven | USS Challenger NCC-40117-A]

If the day could get any better after having the oxygen pump off and being completely defrosted, Nira was relieved to hear that communication with Starfleet has been restored. Then came the results.

Thirty-five percent of the junior ranks and sixty-five percent of senior officers dead. Casualties that took the Dominion two years to inflict had taken less than a day for the Borg to do. It had to be a record. Overall Starfleet capacity reduced to twenty percent. That is what Nira had been reading on her PADD on her bedside.

Her worry about Earth lingered even after the destruction of the Doomsday Weapon - more of an accident on part of Neva, if anything. Now that communication was restored, Nira was itching to find out about Torra and Malik. Unfortuantely, she was still confined in bed even as Challenger returns to Earth.

Reports regarding the Federation borders had surprised her. Aside from the Changelings, the Praetorians had to know about Starfleet's capacity, given they openly declared being in league with the Changelings, and thus the Dominion, who had been helping the Borg - what's left of them before their complete annihilation. What surprised her was that along the border boundaries of the Federation - particularly along the borders the newly declared New Romulan Empire, the Kzinti Patriarchy, the Tzenkethi Coalition and the Breen Confederacy, virtually everywhere around the Federation - had no reports of attacks.

Despite keeping checking, she still had an inkling: They could've known Starfleet around Earth was freed from the Borg, and thus, they had to adjust their strategy, or even postpone their invasion. Whatever the reason, Nira was sure they wouldn't be willing to attack Starfleet now that it was freed from control of the Borg.

Nira looked up from her bedside, up to Savar, who didn't want to leave her side, then around at the rest of her away team, who are still being treated. She felt sorry she had to order them blown out, but she had no choice.

[Ensign Neva Cordon|USS-Challenger|Sickbay]

Neva sighed in thankfulness when she heard Nira's calm assurance all was ok. 'Thank you...' She managed in kind.

Neva was thankful. She LIVED. Yet even as she felt that her heart clenched at how she'd nearly cost her crewmates their lives. She'd thought the airlock a good idea, but then the Spacing...oh Gods! Tears burned down her cheeks at the thought.

She tried as best she could to heed and work with the Medical staff to feel better and as time went on, she did. Her mind spun on the "should've/could've' hamster wheel. over the Planet Killer. Each time, the same ending. She'd probably be doing a debrief with Nira and the Captain. She could discuss things then.

She wished for the comfort and safety of her bunk, her blanket tucked around her, and a book to read. Maybe even her favorite sandwich. The thought of making fresh bread from her machine brought a smile to her face. She secretly enjoyed how her crewmates "happened" to visit her, at those times, even as she growled and bitched at them for snatching most of it on her.

Neva pulled herself very gently into a sitting position against the pillows of the biobed. She looked out and around the area, smiling when one of the doctors came up to her.

"Can I get out now, please? I at least want the comfort of my bunk for a bit, if not cleared for duty, Sir." She asked simply.

["Avolus? He's out there, but nae the one in charge. It's that ancient wanker Tal that's in command here. Avolus struck me as a reasonable sort, we would have been able ta negotiate with him. There is a file on this Tal. Seems he was the second in command on the Romulan V-11 class battlecruiser when Kirk stole that cloaking device. Tal took a lot of heat for lettin' the Enterprise escape with both the cloak and the squadron commander. I guess he's got a grudge..."]

[Inside --> Outside Doomsday Machine - Angdarr System]

As the away team was swept out into the void of space, they were struck, which was the proper way to describe the impact of the cold on their bodies when it completely enveloped them. It was a cold so profound that it defied classification. On top of the bone-crushing cold, each person knew they had roughly 30 seconds of useful consciousness before they asphyxiated. As hope and the light in their eyes dimmed, each saw what they perceived as the fabled light that supposedly led to the afterlife. While it was a given that being in Starfleet was a dangerous profession, it never occurred to Nira, Neva, Tora, Jamil, or Dil that their lives would end in the emptiness of space.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Bridge - USS Challenger]

Ian was keeping an eye on the countdown timer of the hour they'd been given drop below five minutes and he felt helpless as he had no more ideas on how to save his ship than when the timer started. Thus when Kyan spoke, it was a relief.

"Avolus? He's out there, but nae the one in charge. It's that ancient wanker Tal that's in command here. Avolus struck me as a reasonable sort, we would have been able ta negotiate with him. There is a file on this Tal. Seems he was the second in command on the Romulan V-11 class battlecruiser when Kirk stole that cloaking device. Tal took a lot of heat for lettin' the Enterprise escape with both the cloak and the squadron commander. I guess he's got a grudge..."

At this moment Randall at the science station spoke up.

"Sir, forgive the interruption, but something is happening on the Machine. Power output has tripled! If it keeps increasing I don't see how it doesn't destroy itself!"

"Bloody hell! Helm take us ta 100,000 kilometers. Fernando, warn the Romulans, maybe that will buy us some goodwill. Any sign of the away team Evan?"

"The Machine's dampening field has increased as the power has, there's too much interference to get any readings."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Shuttle Mjolnir - Angdarr System]

Nira's eyes opened and she immediately wished they hadn't. She was colder than she thought was possible and could see that her exposed skin was discolored, likely by frostbite. She maintained consciousness long enough to see the rest of the away team was present before she gave in to the unconsciousness.

Lieutenant Hector Espada was unable to help the away team at the moment. He'd picked up their combadges outside the hull of the Doomsday Machine almost immediately because he was scanning for their signals intently at the time. He had just enough time to beam them aboard before going to warp for a quarter of a second. He didn't want to be anywhere near the Machine as he'd also detected the buildup of power and as strong and powerful as a Delta-Flyer might be, it was no match for the blast that a power plant as big as the one on the Machine would generate if it exploded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Bridge - USS Challenger]

The ship's viewscreen held Ian's full attention as Randall continued to report the power increase and that overload had to be coming soon.

"Ops, increase shieldin' and structural integrity by fifty percent."

"Aye Sir."

Seconds after Catalan completed reinforcing the Challenger's defenses, the Machine exploded. Which, while the correct word, failed to fully describe the power of the detonation utterly. The flash was so bright, the viewscreen had to shut down to prevent being overloaded. Thus, it was several seconds before the crew of the Challenger could see what had happened.

The Machine was gone, the explosion had been so violent that it managed to shatter the neutronium hull into thousands of fragments. Up until this point, it wasn't believed that anything could destroy neutronium and it spoke to the thunderous power the Machine held.

In a voice barely above a whisper, Ian asked.

"The away team?"

"Just a minute Sir, local space is heavily disrupted... wait... wait... I have the Mjolnir! She's asking for medical assistance!"

"Sweet Merciful Maker! Beam them directly ta sickbay. Kyan, you have the bridge!"

Ian said as he all but vaulted out of the command chair and raced for the turbolift. The trip to sickbay felt monumentally slow, but soon the doors opened and he rushed into medical, his heart pounding at what he might find. There he found Nira, Neva, Dil, Jamil, and Tora all on biobeds being tended to by a phalanx of doctors and nurses. As much as he wanted answers, he knew he was the intruder here and after a quick glance at the bio-readings that said the five patients were alive, he found a seat and waited for someone to brief him when they had answers.

[Ensign Neva Cordon|USS-Challenger|Sickbay]

Cold....soooo cold... Daddy...Daddy come...come...back...

Neva swam towards the light Daddy! Nooo...don't leave me! She wasn't getting anywhere, she was swimming against some invisible tide. He wasn't coming to her. He stood there with his hand frozen as if he still held her hand, but she couldn't reciprocate. She was falling backward...

NOOOOOOooooooo

Neva's black eyes popped open, fear evident. Cold beyond anything she'd ever felt burned within her and her eyes widened in terror...

She tried to look around, but all was blurry. A dark shape loomed over her with the sound far away to her icy-hot ears and she felt tears crystalize on her face. She didn't trust her body to move, so she implored the only way she knew how.

'Please...help me!' She urged telepathically. 'Sssooo COLD!'

Suddenly, it felt like a cacophony had swooped into her ears and was turned up to a crushingly loud volume. Neva winced and started keening from the discordancy she felt.

'HEEEELLLLPPPP MEEEEEE....'

[Ensign Tora Zalos|Mess Hall|USS Challenger]

Where had this lady been keeping that cutting board and knife, Tora wondered. The puzzlement was momentary, however, replaced with excitement at getting to try a slice of that wonderfully pillowy soft bread. "Whole wheat, white, darker with chocolate chips in, it's honestly all the same to me. I personally don't really care for what some people say about which kinds are healthier than others; it's bread! It's good for the soul." She quipped as she moved over to sit across from the other, taking her plate with her. She didn't want to waste food, after all!

"Peanut butter and banana are a match made in heaven to me - behind peanut butter and any kind of chocolate and peanut butter and jam. I think you're perfectly fine. Acquired taste or not." The Cardassian grinned at her new friend. She'd invited her over and offered her a little part of her meal, so she could call her that - easy. "My name is Tora. What's yours, and what got you into breadmaking?" Tora did not wait for the answer to come before taking a bite of bread. Slightly chewy, light, pillowy. This woman had done a splendid job.

[Ensign Neva Cordon|USS-Challenger|Mess Hall]

Neva laughed amiably. "I'm Neva Cordon." She picked up the bread and put the two halves together. As she set up to eat, she added, "So you like peanut butter & jelly too? Great! And Chocolate chips? Never thought of that!" She tilted her head slightly, considering Tora's question. "Well, it's kind of funny actually. The replicators never quite make the kind of consistency I liked."

Neva shrugged and put her food on the plate again. "So I contacted my mother and she got me one." She smirked. "SOMEhow. Mother always seems to find ways to get what she wants." Neva's shoulders bounced in a silent chuckle. "I've got other recipes I can do. I can replicate most of the ingredients. The others I typically get on shore leaves."

The young Engineer suddenly slumped a little, looking slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm dominating the conversation. I do that sometimes." Sitting back up, she smiled and asked."So, how're you enjoying the ship? I know you got a trial by fire in the last mission. I hope you don't think we're usually going into such do or die kind of missions."

[Commander Nira Said | Central Computer Core >- Bridge >- Corridors >- Airlock | Doomsday Weapon]

What Neva came up with, Nira was not expecting. The alarms certainly indicated something was wrong, along with Neva's reaction, but what that wrong thing was, Neva mentioned a moment later what it was, and it made Nira widen her eyes in shock.

"Shit!" she shouted in shock. "See what you can do; otherwise, we better get the hell back to the hangar!"

When Neva's attempts failed, Nira shouted, "Never mind! Run!"

Nira was certain that running in the gravity field of the Machine made the team use up more of their oxygen backups in their rebreathers, and running with the gravity they have, again, it was how it felt for a heavy eater to run. Only the rebreathers kept them from running out of breath. Even with retracing the route in her mind, Nira was worried they wouldn't get back in time.

As they ran, she began noticing new doors...or rather, doors they hadn't noticed on their way from the hangar, all glowing purple, same as the warning lights. Upon reaching a third such door, Nira said, "Hold it! Let's try this, maybe it'll be a shortcut."

She got to it, it opened for her, and inside was an airlock.

"Of all times we could've had EVA suits," Nira muttered....they definitely weren't going to make it back to the hangar in time. She realized she forgot to call Espada in her shock. Her mind was racing. Without suits, but with rebreathers, there was a chance. They'd probably last longer than they would without them, breath-wise, but it all hinged on Espada beaming them out anyway...

"Said to Mjolnir!" she said, tapping her comm badge. "Mister Espada! Hector, are you there? If you can hear us, beam us aboard the Mjolnir. If you can get away from the hangar, beam us aboard the Mjolnir anyway. Otherwise...well, we're at an airlock, see if you can find one...but in any case, get a lock on our comm badges. You'll have a matter of seconds."

She looked at Neva and said, "Get to the airlock controls and see if you can get them open, Neva. Everybody else, when Neva is ready, keep your breath in as long as you can."

It was a huge risk, but it was the fastest option, and they were out of time. She began making a silent prayer to Allah. She prayed for Neva and for Hector that he heard them and can get to the transporter controls in time. Nonetheless, she was confident it would work. They wouldn't be long. It's happened in the past, like less than a century and a half ago, when Jonathan Archer had to be blown out of space to escape hostiles; at least the NX-01 was close by. She prayed to Allah that Hector would get out in time and get them.

[Ensign Neva Cordon|Planet Killer|Airlock to Shuttle Landing Bay]

Neva nodded silently, slightly breathless from the running. Fingers began working to open the doors, heart beating in her throat. She turned to the Commander. "If we can get in here, I can set it so the airlock doesn't pressurize. If possible, it gives us a way to contact the Mjollnir to beam us out."

Suddenly, there was a  click and the doors wooshed open. Sagging in relief, Neva yelled despite herself. "IT WORKED!" She turned and waved everyone in. "C'mon! Get in NOW!" She looked over at the Commander and spoke telepathically. 'We'll be ok, Nira.'

[Ensign Tora Zalos|Mess Hall|USS Challenger]

Tora's eyes were glued to the woman's sandwich instantly. Apart from being convinced that peanut butter was one of the best things humans had ever created (behind bubble tea and the Federation itself), she was a huge fan of it in sandwiches (and that dish Filipino humans called kare-kare); her aunt had painstakingly made sandwiches for her to bring to school every morning - usually with Cardassian ingredients she could find at the local street market, but also with peanut butter and jam on occasion, which she would beg her to make. If living on Risa had taught her anything (it had, multiple things in fact) it was to enjoy whatever she could find in life, wherever she could find it.

"That looks good! Did you make the bread yourself?" It helped that the other was seated only about two tables away across from her. Tora leaned towards her, dinner momentarily forgotten. "I always find that replicated bread's a little bit too dense, you know? That looks perfect."

[Ensign Neva Cordon|USS-Challenger|Mess Hall]

Neva looked up with a grin when she heard the woman's voice. "I make the bread myself. I got a bread maker tucked into my stuff." She put down her sandwich and pulled over a cutting board. "Have a seat & I'll cut you a piece." She held out a hand to indicate the empty seat across from her.

Neva carefully cut a 1/2-inch piece from the loaf and handed it to the Cardassian woman. "It's whole wheat bread. I know some people don't like that, but I find it a perfect choice with my kind of sandwich." She gave a slightly embarrassed grin. "My sandwiches are an acquired taste. I make peanut butter and banana sandwiches." she gave a conspiratorial smirk. "A babysitter made them once for us and I got hooked."

[Commander Nira Said | Bridge >- Central Computer Core | Doomsday Weapon]

One look and Nira could see that this was it. This was what controls the computers. This has to be.

"This has to be it," said Nira. "Neva, time for you to work a miracle. Tora, see what you can do to help," she added to Tora. "See what you can do. Worse comes to worse, we concentrate our phaser fire on this thing, at high levels. However, only as last resort. Only."

It was a typical thing to think for a Security officer, but Nira was determined not to destroy it unless there was no other way.

[Ensign Neva Cordon|Planet Killer|Control Room]

Neva looked up at the Commander's order and nodded. She put her Tricorder away and went to what looked like a control display. She rubbed her chin a moment, then started typing on the controls.

Suddenly, a whooping klaxon broke the silence. On the main screen, glyphs showed up. They were changing by the second...

Neva jumped back as if shocked, eyes wide. "Aw HELLS naw!" She growled out. "Not on MY watch!" She furiously tapped on the controls, trying to undo what she'd somehow set off.

"Sorry Commander. I set off the self-destruct." She spoke with annoyance. "We may need to see about finding a way out. Damn my luck!"

Neva kept working, looking up now and again to check the main screen. At one point, she bounced over to a wall, palms skating along as she walked. Shaking her head quickly, she went back to the controls she'd been using.

"Commander, you really should GO now." She spoke tightly. "This isn't working!" She intoned.

[Ensign Neva Cordon|USS-Challenger|Mess Hall]

To Neva, nothing was better than fresh baked bread. She'd finagled a small bread maker into her quarters and it wasn't uncommon for crewmembers just "happening" to visit her on days she'd made a loaf...or 2.

Through a process of elimination, she'd learned thick slices of wheat bread were a perfect platform to put on the ooey-gooeyness that was creamy peanut butter. A banana just past the hard green stage made the perfect hardness as counterpoint to the nutty condiment.

Having managed another replication, Neva sat at a table, tongue sticking out sideways as she carefully put the concoction together. A glass of Uttaberry Juice sat on the table next to her, untouched. She always reserved the 1st sip to be the cleansing after the 1st bite.

This was a meal to be savored.

[Commander Nira Said | Bridge | Doomsday Weapon]

If it weren't for the Universal Translator, Nira would've felt it impossible. If there were still Communication Officers, it would've taken longer to figure out the systems. But figure out she did. Nira was impressed to find that the team had figured out the systems, and for her part, Nira managed to find the weapon controls.

The problem was that it was locked out and under automated control. Nira pursed her lips. Of course it did, given how this Machine, and the one Kirk and Decker and their respective ships found in their day, automatically going from one planet to the next to consume.

She heard Aarwendil and she looked around at him. When he showed her that particular system, Nira nodded. "Yeah, it's a communication station all right. However, there's not a thing we can do. It's likely to be locked out, too, along with all the other consoles, and all systems under automated control. Let's leave Communications be for now, Aarwendil, we have to find the Machine's automated control systems."

She then looked around and addressed the team. "Everybody? If you're finding consoles locked out from control, leave it be. The new priority is locating the automated control systems."

She looked around and noticed the door at the far side of the room. She remembered the door they came through and she saw the door at the far side. "I wonder...could it potentially be in there?"

[Ensign Neva Cordon|Planet Killer]

Neva rubbed her hands together and blew into her cupped palms only to fog up her rebreather. Groaning in frustration, she looked in the direction Nira indicated.

For once, Neva walked ahead of the Commander. Her Tricorder was out and sweeping the area. Her mind whirling and a half smirk on her face, Neva stopped in front of a set of doors. "Commander, I think we found our control center." That said, Neva tucked her Tricorder back on her belt and took a deep, chest enlarging breath. Letting it out, she walked through, heart in her throat.

Neva stared in wide eyed wonder, smiling bright. THIS was why she was an Engineer in Starfleet-new things, new puzzles, new adventures. She stepped forward absently pulling her Tricorder once more. Walking slowly to the side, her eyes riveted to her Tricorder.

Character(s) affected: Neva Cordon
Assigned ship(s): USS Challenger
Period of time absent: 4 days
Date of last period of activity: 12/27/2023
Date returning: 1/2/2023

Any relevant comments: Family coming to town for New Years

[Commander Nira Said | Flyer Mjolnir | Hangar Bay | Doomsday Weapon?]

Nira heard Jamil's opinion, and then the sensor results came back. She then looked over to Jamil and said, "Actually, I don't think we'll need EVA suits, but judging from the atmosphere, unbreathable as it is, we'll need rebreathers and oxygen packs. And with temperature at ten degrees Celsius, at least we won't need winter packs...sweaters, maybe."

Noticing the doors, she added, "Stepping out is going to be inevitable anyhow. Everybody but Lieutenant Espada's with me. Hector," she said to Espada, "keep a transporter lock on us at all times in case something goes wrong. I'll call you if we need a quick getaway. Neva, Aarwendil," she said to the two fellow Betazoids, "see if you can move the probe, replicate a hover cart if possible. Tora, Jamil, tricorders out, it's quite the unique opportunity to see the inside of the Machine. Now get rebreathers and oxygen packs ready. Hand phasers only, we don't want to demonstrate any aggressiveness."

Once five rebreathers were replicated, along with belts carrying oxygen packs to refuel the rebreathers if need be, Nira ordered forcefields raised around the front section, around Espada. Then, once assured that rebreathers were equipped, she opened the airlock and stepped out.

At least the rebreathers were comfortable, even fitting about. The oxygen packs, adjusted for breathing conditions for every species to wear, be it member race of the Federation or not, were set for no more than an hour, but fortunately, in case of long term exploration, that's why there were spare packs on belts.

Nira proceeded cautiously toward the two personnel doors, wondering what was on the other side. The fact that this gave the impression of a ship, this was a new discovery...

[Ensign Neva Cordon|Mjolnir|Planet Killer]

Neva put her rebreather on, but the facemask got shoved up to sit on her forehead. She'd absently put on both an Engineer yellow sweater and phaser, her attention focused on the probe's readouts. Her mouth moved silently, mind whirling with ideas and suppositions.

Turning to Aarwendil, she smiled. "Ok, I think we can safely move this. It seems dormant enough for now." She looked around  the hold. "What's the status on the hovercart?"

[Working...]

[{NPC} Lieutenant Savar | Cargo Bay Three | Deck Six | USS Challenger NCC-40117-A]

Savar listened to the exchange between Randall and Neva with interest. Little is certainly known of how the Doomsday Weapon operated, how it's programmed. The idea that it could be alive, thinks, that was new.

"I would have to concur with Lieutenant Randall on this logical regard," he said to Neva. "If it's alive, and this its brain...well, it would only have one purpose: to consume. If it is alive; as a machine, it is unknown how it is programmed..."

Then Neva proposed another idea, one that made Savar extremely interested. "Fingerprints?" he said. "And isolated from the last person who touched it, regardless of the suit...it could work...saves the time from having to track down the last person who had contact with it..."

[Ensign Neva Cordon|USS Challenger|Cargo Bay3]

Neva let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. She smiled a little as she grabbed the tricorder from her hip. Stepping forward, she scanned the button area, focusing on extracting data of the fingerprints. Once done, she put it away and grabbed her PADD from her kit once more. She tapped a few things then held it out to the group.

"Ok, here's the data." She widened the readout to show the buttons near the bottom of the screen, and a conglomeration of wavy lines above it.

"Computer, isolate the fingerprints on the buttons to find the first set."

Working... The display on her PADD showed prints being lifted from the clump, then the lowest one turning outward to view closer. Data Complete

"Computer, Superimpose these fingerprints on the buttons of the Planet Eater, adjusting to show hardest press on the buttons."

The display changed again, the fingerprints floating down onto the buttons, then row of the creature's display turning to face outward again to show a glow of deep presses.

"Ha!" Neva exclaimed, hand tilted toward the PADD's display with palm in and fingers angled down. "Sir, I think we have our answer." She looked up and her gaze swept between those assembled. Her face suddenly fell to show a sheepish and concerned look. "Who wants to do the honors?"

[[Lieutenant Zhukdra'shar Mrekrerhas | Cargo Bay I --> Jefferies Tubes | Deck Six --> Deck Seven | USS Challenger NCC-40117-A | Angdarr System]]

[Cargo Bay Three - USS Challenger]

Randall took in the two theories and mulled them over, looking for flaws in their logic, when he couldn't find any, he sighed.

"From what little information I got from the Captain, this O'Flaherty character found the probe and the Machine drifting. They tried to grab the probe, it activated and shot at them. O'Flaherty fired back and got blindly lucky, hitting something important enough to shut the probe down. They beamed it aboard their ship, scanned it and couldn't figure it out. If anyone pressed or even noticed these buttons, I don't know.

"As for feeding it and letting it nap, If we follow the example of the original Machine and what we have seen with this new one, they don't 'sleep' they eat and keep eating remorselessly. We could replicate something and toss in the probe's maw, but I think it would just get more powerful, sleeping seems doubtful.

"These buttons exist for a reason, we just don't what that reason is yet. If we can figure that reason out, I think we can operate this thing. What options do we have that can increase our odds of pushing these buttons in the right order?"

[Ensign Neva Cordon|USS Challenger| Cargo Bay 3]

Neva listened and had to admit, she had gone WAY out in left field this time. Shrugging it off, she considered what Randall had circled back to.

'Right sequence right sequence right sequence...how to find that...' she mused silently. Her eyes suddenly went wide and she snapped her fingers. Looking at Randall, she asked "Is there a way to isolate fingerprints?" She pointed at the buttons. "we can isolate particles down to protons." She held up one hand, pointing to a finger on it with the other. 'You put your fingerprints and the last thing you touched on your spacesuit. It leaves an imprint, unchanging even in vacuum, right? Isolate the imprints and cross reference it with the harder pushes on the buttons and we could possibly get our proper sequence." Neva bit her upper lip as she dropped her hands and stepped back into the group.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Sickbay - USS Challenger]

Zorr looked up from Chloe for a moment and said.

"Tricorder says she's stunned. That damned disruptor caused some second degree burns. If you hand me that hypospray and dermal regenerator off that tray Chief, I believe she will be fine."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Lieutenant Zhukdra'shar Mrekrerhas | Cargo Bay I --> Jefferies Tubes | Deck Six --> Deck Seven | USS Challenger NCC-40117-A | Angdarr System]

"Understood Captain Galloway. Then the Teams shalt proceed with our current data set. If we have a dire need for an asset, you shalt be the first to be informed,"  Zhuk swiftly answered Ian, as he crossed the door that led into the Jefferies Tubes, closing it after him, with all of Team Beta inside. Before he proceeded any further, he tapped on his comm badge again, "Team Alpha, we are cleared to proceed. There is no new information on this situation. Excercise caution."=/\=

[Lieutenant Zhukdra'shar Mrekrerhas and Crewman Zala | Jefferies Tubes --> Sickbay Computer | Deck Seven | USS Challenger NCC-40117-A | Angdarr System]

Though neither knew it, Zhuk and Zala were anxious about the current happenstances. Zala's expressions were much more notable, at least, but as she had taken point on the rear, none had noticed. Zala's thoughts were focused on her little brother, Mo. A rollercoaster of emotions had taken over when she had overheard the explosion in the classroom. Fortunately, her superior, Kyan, had been there to rescue the children and their teacher from further harm. She was thankful to the Onlie for that, though now, she once more feared for his safety. As he had been transported to Sickbay, he was now exposed to whoever crooks had decided to board it.

Besides, the fact was that Deck Seven was currently filled with wounded with rather nasty injuries. No child should be exposed to that carnage. But she was a Security officer. And now, she had the opportunity to save him. At least, she was mildly glad that her smaller size gave her an easier time traversing through the metal tunnels of the vessel, compared to the rest of her teammates.

Zhuk shared such an ability with her, due to his height. His mind though, remained on Chloe and the rest of the Medical Staff. He wondered if they had been hurt by the miscreants which had boarded them, under his whiskers. And if she had been hurt, well, Mrekrerhas would be forced to leave them as good as a Hawaiian pa'u skirt. His blood boiled just thinking on that, glad that no Betazoid was there to pick up on his feelings of violence.

Eventually, they reached the door that led to the Sickbay Computer. With that, he proceeded to contact Alpha Team,

"Blackfeather, Koroz. Do you read? We are in position... where do you be?" 

No response. Had the communicators been jammed? Quite likely. It was not a good sign. Coordinating in such a case would be quite hard. Still, Zhuk was undeterred, as he glanced over at the officers with him, "Please, wait here. I shalt proceed to scout ahead to obtain a better understanding of the situation. Crewman Zala. With me."

The Ferengi proceeded to zigzag through the rest to reach Zhuk, while he proceeded to carefully open the door. He took a peek outside, making sure that no enemies were in the vicinity, before proceeding to carefully advance into the room. Zala dutifully followed, closing the door behind her.

"Very well. Let us proceed to Sickbay, as silently as possible. I trust that with our combined senses, we may be able to perceive if anyone approaches"

Zhuk whispered at her, to which Zala nodded. Mrekrerhas squatted as he ventured outside, being imitated by Zala, his feet almost silent thanks to the soft padding underneath. The Ferengi, as he expected, proved to be rather inconspicuous as they approached the outside of Sickbay, by the Medical Staff entrance.

As the door was locked, however, Zhuk was met with vexation. Zala, however, had an idea almost immediately, "Sir... allow me..."

Zhuk nodded, moving aside as Zala began to put her engineering knowledge to work, attempting to pry off the panel to access the inner cables and mechanisms of the door.

[Jeffries Tubes Outside Sickbay - USS Challenger]

Having reached their destination, undetected so far as they could tell, Zhuk and his team prepared to force entry. The biggest concern was the small opening of the Jeffries tube meant they faced an extreme form of the 'fatal funnel' that all points of entry created in that they could only enter one at a time whereas the defenders had open fields of fire and movement. Unfortunately, their options were limited and it meant the first couple people through the hatch were at the highest risk. This presented Zhuk with a difficult choice. Did he take point, not willing to send someone to do something he himself would not do, but in so doing risk the leadership and stall the assault? Or, did he send in one of the other members of the team knowing their odds of survival were low? It was at times like this that Zhuk hated being in charge.

"What to do? What to do?"