Ep. 2 - So Much for Peace....

[Atreides Conscript]

Note: This post begins a new chapter in the Remnant saga. Please refrain from posting in old chapters from this point onward. Thank you.

Charlie: The commander meets your stare with a look of annoyance on his face, but his eyes betray a deeper worry. He glances around the bar and sees his crewmen at the ready. As he turns to calm his men down, a man (a man you recognise... unfortunately) darts from his bar-stool with drunken steps and rambling phrases at the Starfleet personnel.

The commander doesn't get a chance to say anything before a hasty ensign takes a nearby bottle and bashes it against the poor drunk's skull. You see his head fly backward with the impact of the shattering bottle. As he hits the ground, he yells out with the volume only the drunk or truly frightened can muster, "I hwert!!! Dawktor!!!" The yell ends with a loud crack as his skull hits the floor of the pub and he falls (you hope) unconscious.

Nobody moves... nobody breathes. The air is silent inside the pub as even the background ambiance stops playing. Then you see another man you recognise, a Bolian male from the raider, swing a Bajoran disruptor rifle from his coat into the Starfleet ensign's forehead. The brawl begins....

Maxwell: You see a man you recognise from the Killarney! You rush to him in order to get the location of the shuttle... but someone is pushing your head backward. As you feel the blood loose from your veins, you cry out for help, but nobody seems to hear you... so you yell louder....

As you are about to hit the ground, you see the situation clearly. What were you thinking? You're not onboard the Killarney anymore. Now you're Maquis... and now you're very, very, very drunk. Maybe mixing fire and ice isn't such a good..................

Kira: This isn't good at all... Maxwell is running off! As you get up to pursue him, you hear a loud crackling noise and see Maxwell's figure fall from head level in the crowd. Bits of glass shower the area sending small traces of spattered blood across your face. You hear him scream for a doctor, but the scream gets cut short as you see, through parted men, his body hit the ground.

As you push toward him, you notice that you're the only one moving. It's as if the world stands still. A thought of fairy-tales of youth flashes through your mind of how time freezes just as something beautiful... or terrible is about to happen. You're not betting on the former.

Just as you make it to Maxwell's unconscious mass, you see a man step between you and the Starfleet crew. He is somewhat tall, with blue skin and a long coat. You remember having a Bolian in the crew of the Unity's Vengeance, and it may be him, but you can't tell if it is from behind.

The man proves your theory correct as he swings a long object from under his coat. You hear the sound of dead-weight against bone and a cry of pain from what you assume is a Federation crewman. That's where things get really dicey.

Yen: As you sit in annoyance with your prize at leaving you alone to speak to his commander, you see a form dash from the bar near to the door. It heads directly for the bunch of Federation situated at a few tables near the wall. Before you can focus on who is running, you hear the sound of splintered glass and a scream for help.

As you get your slightly inebriated eyes to focus, you see the doctor hovering over Maxwell's bloodied form and Flarr, one of the crewmen who helped you with your engineering work this afternoon, swinging a disruptor rifle against a Starfleet crewman's head.

You don't speak... you barely even move, save for your hand rushing to the Bajoran disruptor pistol at your hip. More swings with fists of alcohol-fueled rage and mob hysteria. You don't draw the pistol just yet, but now you're ready should anybody take the fight to you.

Jondro: You wait patiently for about half a minute before somebody finally approaches you from behind. You don't turn around... it's better if he (if it's a she, then she has very heavy footfalls for a lady) doesn't think you take notice. A masculine voice asks you for your business, and you do your very best to look somewhat startled by his presence.

You turn to face him with a look of slight shock on your face, then brighten back into your smile. "I'm sorry child, you gave me a bit of a scare there. No worries however, I know did not mean to startle an old man such."

He looks back at you with eyes that betray no particular emotion, but to the untrained would look somewhat angry. The man is definitely trained in some military fashion, but he doesn't wear a station security uniform. It seems a likely venture that he's from whatever ship may be landed on the pad above, but perhaps not. It's show-time.

[gryphonpoet]

(Already turned to face the person)

Threl Jondro's ever-present smile continued to shine without waver. His gentlest tone of religious condescention filled his voice as he addressed the oversized security man.

"And thank you, child for answering. My name is Threl Jondro and I seek to work for my passage to another star system." Jondro paid close attention to the reflexive changes in the man's face. It showed nothing but solid discipline. "I have been intinerant for many years now and if you have a crew that is focused on unity, not vengeance, then I may help."

He smiled wider for a brief moment, then continued before the man could speak. "I have used many different flight systems in my travels and am an accomplished flight officer. And I can still do step-and-fetch for engineering. In a pinch, I can also act as a nurse, though I am no doctor.

"So if you're hiring on, I can help with repairs and help staff the ship in exchange for passage to your next destination. That is to presume the Captain will approve."

His head cocked and leaning lightly on his walking stick, Jondro now waited for the information to process through the thick head of this small mountain. From the blank expression on the other man's face, it could take a while.

[Kensai]

{OOC: Beeg post, yeehaa! :BIC}
[fighting....]

That’s it. Charlie’s eyes flared as the ensign hit the drunk, she didn’t remember being this trigger happy as a Federation officer. As the Bolian knocked the Ensign over the head, she turned her attention back to the commander.

Before he could take his phaser completely from his hip, Charlie grabbed his hand and twisted it into a wrist-lock. If it weren’t for her slight drunken state, she would have controlled her techniques better, but her hand came instinctively into an open hand strike, hitting the commander square on the jaw. Maintaining the wrist lock she reversed the grip and threw him across the room.

She heard a screaming and turned just as another Federation crewman bowled her over. They fell to the ground as he started to punch her face. After two punches, Charlie realized where she was and began shielding her face from his blows. The frenzy she saw in his eyes, said enough, he was caught up in the moment – no more controlled techniques from self-defense class in Starfleet. With a roar, she hit him hard on the side of the head with the aim of stunning him. As his attention wavered, she threw him off her and scrambled up. A stunning, well placed kick struck her hard in the short ribs, making her stagger forward.

She turned to face the other assailant, a burly crewman – Engineering by the look of his build. He came forward again, his fist connecting hard with her stomach before she could react. Then he made a critical error, he waited – standing there to watch his ‘victim’ suffer.
“Bastard!” Charlie recovered remarkably quickly, the adrenaline masking her pain. She struck him hard with a front kick, then she spun round, striking him hard with the hardest part of her arm, the fore arm. She followed him backwards, hitting him hard in the groin - a debilitating technique against a male opponent.

“Where you going, sweetie?” her second opponent had recovered as he swung a broken bottle at her head. She ducked under the first swing, but the second one caught her side making a gash. Not even acknowledging the successful cut, Charlie pushed the hand holding away in its arc of motion and punched him across the jaw. The timing and technique were perfect as the ‘Spinal – twist’, or as boxers would say, ‘The one hit KO’ happened. He fell soundlessly to the floor unconscious.

She turned to see two more crewmen, one male and one female, approaching, Where did these damn Starfleet come from? Her strength was waning, there were only a few more blows she could take before even her martial arts training gave up. She backed away, almost tripping over the fallen drunk. She glanced down to look at the crouching body next to the comatose drunk, she looked familiar – possibly the doctor from her new Maquis ship. Whoever she was, she was not Starfleet or Federation nor a fighter.

“Get him out of here, I’ll cover you.” She shouted over the drunken noise, fumbling for her Bajoran disruptor that was somewhere on her waist. The two crewmen were almost on her before she drew the disruptor, her hand swinging out the way just in time as the lead one made a move for her weapon holding hand. The weapon made a satisfying sound as the male fell down, stunned.

“I’ll take that.” the other one grabbed her hand tightly, twisting her hand roughly around, making her drop her precious weapon. Charlie ducked under the wide arced punch and pushed the female away. Spotting her disruptor on the floor she made a dash for it. As she reached it, the female landed on top of her – expelling whatever air Charlie had in her lungs. Stars were starting to form behind her eyes, a good fight was rewarding but not when there were so many of them.

In a typical female move, the female crewman grabbed Charlie’s short hair and pulled it back, making her fight back tears forming behind her eyes. Overcoming this somewhat, Charlie pointed her disruptor at the crewman – digging the barrel into her side.
“Bye bye.” Charlie grinned mirthlessly, before depressing the button. The female was stunned as Charlie heaved the weight off her body. She attempted to stand but her shaking arms refused, her ‘escape’ part of her mind was starting to take over.

[celest]

Kira got low to the gorund as the confussing began. Well, Maxwell keeping his mouth shut now. Damn it. There's too many hot heads in here. Well here we go! She rushes into the action staying low to the ground and using her small build to fit throught the gaps in bodies till she is at Maxwells side. All right big boy. Lets get out of here. She looks up briefly at the situation as the woman, Charlie, she thinks yells something at you. Kira nodds slightly and in one fluid movement bring Maxwells arm up and over her shoulders as she moves under his body to catch him on her back. She looks quickly around as the disruptor fire begins. Oh great, damn guns. The last thing we need is drunks in a fire fight. She stands slightly still trying to stay low to the ground hoping to not get shot herself and moves as swiftly as she can to the door. Every so often she throws her free hand out into the the chest of a Starfleet causing a blow that leaves them breathless for a moment and gets them out of her way.

[eunhathes]

[Klisikar]

OMAR!! Hooper's eyes grew wide with disbelief. He had not seen Omar Dean since the Cardassians boarded the Killarney. However he had made it here, the Ensign had done well for himself. He was now a full commander and on Cestus as well. Maxwell made no hesitation at all in rushing up to him. "Commandaar!! Ish goot ta shee yoo 'gin. I'm hevin' proll'ms rashin't Klaanee. D'ya no war I canfnd uh shushel?" Quite unexpectedly, however, Hooper's vision bled with light as the cartilage in his nose broke again. The poor human never even saw the fist of the ensign who struck him, bu the blow landed and did it's damage nonetheless. The severed tissues oozed blood profusely across the bar as Maxwell fell backwards to the floor. The ceiling fans spinning on lazily was the last image Hooper saw before his head bounced on the stuccato tile floor.

The next thing he knew, he was bouncing around staring at the very tiles he had just bounded off of. Maxwell's feet dragged behind him, and a woman's curves called to him off to the side. Suddenly, his inner thoughts were cut short by his stomachs vehement rejection of all that had transpired. Rotating violently, Hooper heaved. He slid off of the should that bore his weight and knelt on the ground. The alcohol and meal he had eaten hours ago came back with vengeance. Quite quickly, Maxwell Hooper became his old self again. He stood up, albeit dizzily, and looked over to the woman who had brought him out. "Thenk yoo, mish...?" He waited to catch her name.

[Lylie]

Yen looked around real quick seeing what was going on around her. She could see that if caught, it could get real ugly. talk about a mood breaker she thought to herself. He just had to go and get drunk didn't he? Damn men. Hate them all. Ruining my time off.

Sitting as still as possible with out making herself stand out like a sore thumb she reaches for her phaser. Yen does not pull out her phaser though. She just rests her hand on it. Watching the fight for a moment and realizing that her crew mates are getting in more trouble, Yen starts to get up. She looks to the door and then to the fight. What do I do? Escape or help out?

Yen walks slowly toward Maxwell the fallen drunk. Maybe I can find some way to help my drunk crew mates. They are after all my new family.

As she reaches where the fighting is Yen gives a sweet smile and says "Now boys you don't want to hurt little old me do you?" She spots the officer that she was flirting with and tells him "We'll have to have a rain check on that date of ours by the way John. Your buddies are messing up my friends" She looks to the crew mate of hers that was doing the most fighting, Charlie.

The other two, the doc and the stupefied, looked like they were getting along pretty well. "Hey mate, how are you doing?" Yen asks as she ducks down and pulls out her phaser. Yen points it at the guy that was advancing on Charlie and shouts "Make another move on her and I'll blast you so hard that your own mama wont know your name."

[Kensai]

It was good to have an inner fire, something that kept the spirit fighting when the world was bleak. A will that kept Charlie going when others gave up or bowed their heads in surrender. All the fire and fury were useless unless her body responded.

Come get up! Charlie tried, but her arms weren’t responding very well.

“This scum doesn’t seem to accept defeat well.” Charlie heard another voice near to her. She turned onto her back and prepared for another onslaught. She would fight these insolent and arrogant Starfleet until she passed out. As he approached she heard a more familiar voice,
"Hey mate, how are you doing?"
Charlie could make out what might be the member of her new Maquis ship, whoever she was she was an ally as she pointed the phaser at the advancing Starfleet,
… I'll blast you so hard that your own mama wont know your name”

Yen had bought Charlie a few seconds, enough for her to catch her breath a bit. Enough time for Charlie to look for her disruptor and get to a sitting position. She glared at the Starfleet as her hand felt for her weapon on the floor.
“Just…just need a second.” Charlie mumbled, hoping that the angry look in her eyes and Yen’s phaser would keep them at bay.

[celest]

Kira felt the weight on her shoulders shift a the man came to. She felt him briefly spasm and was quite grateful that he slid off of her before emptying the contents of his stomch. Well atleast I don't have to pump his stmach now. But he weill need to get some good fluids in his system soom. That and some potasium.
She put her arms around his shoulders as her knelt on the floor. "My name is Kira owens, Maxwell, I'm the medical officer on board." Best not speak the ship's name. Don't need to draw any more attention to our selves.

She helps him stand slowly and looks quickly to the door. They were close. She had gotten him to the side of the room, next to the wall out of the center of the action. "Come on we need to get out of here now. I'll help you back to the ship." She gets one arm under his shoulders easily, luckily she was not a person of great height. She steadies him as she tries to hurry him to the door.

[Kensai]

Charlie watched the crewmen in front of her, they seemed to halt – perhaps one of them recognized Yen since he was restraining his friend. Her hand still was fumbling for her disruptor; it had to be close by. Eventually, her left hand touched something that felt like her weapon, but a heavy weight, like a Starfleet issue boot, landed on top of her hand as she touched the weapon.

“I think you don’t need that.” the crewman growled as Charlie winced in pain and she tried to moved away.
“Tell your friend to drop her phaser.” The foot pressed harder down on her hand, she could feel the bones starting to crumble.

Charlie shook her head, words were failing her, but she would not relent. As the foot moved to crush her hand further, she grabbed the other foot and pulled with all her strength. The Starfleet brute tumbled to the ground and, without wasting time, Charlie grabbed her disruptor with her good hand and jumped on top of the crewman. While he was still stunned, she fired her weapon making sure he would wake up in an hour with a terrible headache.

“Yen, we…we have to get out of here.” The name was recalled from the recesses of Charlie’s brain as she looked back at the group facing them. Her hand hurt badly, but she wouldn’t honour its pain requests until they were out of trouble. The adrenaline in her body was wearing off, before long she would be left only with the pain. She began to rise, but her strength was failing her.

[Lylie]

Yen seeing the starfleet officer chrushing Charlie's hand growls, "basterd." She aims her phaser at the officer when he goes down by Charlie forcing him down. watching charlie jump up and fire on the guy to make sure that he was good and out, and turns her attention back to the others.

"Now John if you don't get your friends undercontroll then I will kill them. I don't have a problem with that. I don't use a stun mode." She gives John her grin again. "I do wish that this would have worked out. I was looking for a one night stand and you looked like an easy target."

She hands one hand out to Charlie never letting her eyes leave the Starfleet officer. "Charlie you need to get up and leave the bar. I think that our leave is over." She helps Charlie up and starts to back out of the bar.

"Boys sorry to cut this so short, but if any of you try to follow us I won't hisitate to shoot you." She pulled Charlie out of the bar keeping her eyes and phaser on the starfleet men.

[Kensai]

Charlie accepted Yen’s hand, after she had holstered her weapon. She glanced at the Starfleet officers as she willingly let Yen take her away from her opponent. As with some of the battles Charlie fought, she had not won –nor had she lost. She had taken down effectively six of Starfleet’s finest, but had paid the price. Her head hurt, her hand screamed in pain, her stomach felt like she’d throw up any second and she won’t be surprised if she didn’t have a few broken ribs.

“Always the war hero.” She mumbled as they started to leave the battlefield that was once a bar. There was still probably fighting going on but Charlie cared about one thing – to get out of the bar.

As they exited the doors and started to walk out Charlie muttered,
“Wait. Can…can we sit down for a moment?”

{Assuming Yen agrees…}

Charlie sat on the ground, or to be more accurate, slumped on the ground. The adrenaline had worn off, and now the body began to complain and ache. After a few deep breaths, Charlie looked at Yen,
“Thank you for helping me in there. I don’t think I could have stopped much more of them.” She smiled briefly as she cradled her broken hand tightly, “I’m Charlie Azumi, the tactical officer, believe it or not.”

[Atreides Conscript]

Maxwell: Although you no longer have to worry about further drunkenness, you are still quite drunk. Fortunately though, you can now think a little clearer... even if you can't act on those thoughts effectively.

Kira: Just as you plan to get Maxwell entirely outside of the bar, the fighting seems to have ceased. You look across the room to find one of your crew, the engineer, holding the Federation crewmen at bay. The air is tense, and you aren't sure if things are going to get better or worse from here.

You turn to pull Maxwell out, but there are figures barring the way out the door. Dammit, couldn't they have taken a few seconds longer? A fully armed Starfleet security team stands in front of you, ready for anything. Your fellow crew-mates in the room don't seem to have noticed them yet.

You see the engineer who obviously is preoccupied with holding the Starfleet men and women captive. You see another of the Maquis crew, Charlie you think her name is, who is sitting and catching her breath, but still looking at the others in the center of the room. The Bolian who fought back first doesn't seem to be anywhere in the room now... where could he have gone off to? Then your attention shifts back to Maxwell... who is still bleeding on the floor.

What should you do?

Yen: John's face seems to twist in an awkward and painful display as you say your words. You can tell that he's going to be kicking himself for weeks after this little fiasco. You watch another of the Federation crew, a woman with teal undershirt, move over to one of her downed comrades. She reaches for her side, and you aim your disruptor instinctively... but then you see she isn't pulling out a sidearm.

She uses her medical tricorder to scan the man, and then shakes her head. She uses two fingers to close his eyes and then moves on to the next crewman, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you're pointing a weapon at her. She begins scanning....

This woman is also dead. A couple of tears run down the officer's face... she can't be any older than a new recruit. She keeps onward with the tasks, and comes to another man holding his groin. She scans him and whispers something to him while putting her hand on his shoulder. She moves on... and this is how it is. All said and done, there are three dead and three wounded on their side.

Charlie: You look up to see a woman, an ensign with Starfleet medical, closing the eyes of a fallen crewman. You recognize the face... but you only stunned him right? You see your disruptor at you hip and remember that it doesn't work that way. You don't even have the proper energy cell to make it stun opponents.

But wait, you fired on three of them.... Your eyes dash across as you see the medical crewman over the woman you killed. The commander is closing the eyes of another man. There are two more men unconscious on the ground, and another man holding his groin with an expression of immense pain on his face.

What have you done?

Jondro: The man looks at you with a mixture of confusion and distrust for a few moments, then smiles a wide and joyful grin. He looks to have just won it all on a Ferengi dabo table in the seventh hand. What could he possibly be thinking?

"The captain will be greatly pleased to meet you sir! She's been waiting for a qualified man to drop by, and you look like just the type! We've been hurting for help lately with the war and all, so I'm sure she'd be happy to have you on board!"

This man seems to be overjoyed at the fact that he gets to be the bearer of good news. Perhaps this mountain has a hollow peak? Either way, it looks like you're in. The man gestures for you to follow him and walks toward one of the staircases.

[Kensai]

’By the Holy gods Charlie’s eyes widened in shock, she looked at her disruptor in disbelief. In her chaotic, angry and drunk mind she had forgotten it was a disruptor on her hip, not a phaser from a Starfleet vessel.

She didn’t resist her body as she threw up, away from the group. She couldn’t determine if it was from the alcohol, the shock of the crewman’s deaths or her injuries. Regardless she didn’t feel well. IF it had been Cardassians she would have been grinning, less of the bastards in the world, but these were Starfleet – ignorant and trapped in their world, but not deserving of death. Fighting off the onset of shock, she looked down at the evil device, once a distruptor, trying to crush it in her hand – but failed.

Her eyes burned as a tear rolled down her cheek, her conscience had finally caught up to her raging thoughts. For a moment she lost the rage and the fire, for a second her drive to destroy disappeared and she saw the world in a different light – she had broken a fundamental rule in her martial arts training: When you are angry, do not attack. When you attack, do not get angry

There was no point on apologizing; it would not raise the dead. Again she looked at her weapon, it seemed heavier the more she held it, then looked back at the Starfleet personnel.

Resisting the temptation to throw the weapon as hard as she could, she placed it back on her hip. She wanted to stand but, once again, her legs refused to work. As the initial shock subsided, her hand began to hurt so she held it tightly against her body with the other hand, wary of the other people in the room. This time if someone attacked her, she would use her fists.

[eunhathes]

(Klisikar)

Move. The single word was hammering in Maxwell's head in time to his heartbeat. Images flashed before his eyes as his head lolled around on the barroom. He could hear the crashing of waves, a chorus of shouting, a single high pitched tinitus note. It was all better than the silence he had just broken out of and.... MOVE! That word again? Who is telling me to move? What right do they have? Who do they think they... Move, Max! His eyes widened in horror, for he realized what he had been doing. An ensign had nailed him on the head with a bottle. The blood rushed around his ears and through his face. He felt warm and excited, yet as he moved his head around, he saw grim sights. There were three Starfleet dead on the ground. MOVE, MAXWELL!! His head began to ache with all the screaming inside his head. He couldn't honestly remember who he was supposed to be mourning. There were dead Starfleet always, and they always seemed to be replaced by young officers with young faces. Why they had to die, he was never sure, but the Maquis had taught him why he had survived: To avenge them.

He was suddenly quite aware of his surroundings, and the silence that ensued. Maxwell told himself, Move, Max, echoing the thoughts from his half-conscious state of mind. As he began to rise again, his muscles and body ached and screamed and protested. Something had gone horribly wrong in the last few minutes. He could hear the strain on his body, and it hurt like no one would ever believe. He looked around, and recognized the faces of the people who had saved him from the wreckage of the Elara. Especially the woman who had helped him out of the fray. He tried to speak to her, but his attention had been caught by the people watching the fight. Was fight even the right word for it? Someone had drawn a weapon... who was it? He looked around and found the culprit. He demanded a name from his memory, and recieved Charlie Azumi. He raged inwardly at this entire situation. It had originated with him, and his drunken misery. If only everyone had left him be, those three "kids" would still be alive right now. He tried to speak, but the words only came out as tears and broken sobs. He didn't know who he was crying for anymore. It seemed to him he was crying for everyone.

[Lylie]

Yen keeps her disruptor aimed and the other officers. The medical officer was just doing her job. "Ok boys and girls if you don't mind I think that it is about time for me and my crew mates to leave." She looks at Charlie and sees that she is still in shock of killing the officers. 'Poor thing. I'm just glad that it wasn't me that pulled the trigger.'

Yen was trying to be caring about it. She was trying to think of it as others would. Three people were dead. But she just couldn't get any pity for them. The only thing that she could think of was 'Poor bastards. They shouldn't have messed us.' She couldn't feel sorry for them when they hadn't tried to help her or her family. She just couldn't come up with any pity for them.

Looking back at the star fleet crew, Yen keeps her disrupter out, and reaches for Charlie trying to get a grasp on her arm. "How badly are you hurt, Charlie? We need to leave. We have to get back before it gets worse." Yen whispers to Charlie.

[gryphonpoet]

Up the staircase and through the bowels of the ship, Jondro followed the hulking mass of humanity that was the security guard. The Bajoran's smile was still present and unchanged. A placid picture of the contented peace generated by the Prophets.

Jondro followed. But most of all, Jondro watched and thought. He called the Captain she. And said the ship was short because of the war. Maybe the prophets were smiling today? Possibly, and I'll find out soon enough. Until then, keep sharp, be ready.

[Kensai]

…We have to get back before it gets worse." Charlie snapped out of her dull gaze as Yen spoke to her. Risking taking her eyes off the Starfleet personnel, she looked briefly up at her crewmate.

“I…I don’t know.” She winced as she moved, “I…I think…my hand is broken…” her body was not designed to take such punishment, nor was her spirit. She made a silent promise to never drink unknown substances again. Her body was probably confused at the moment, undecided where to send more blood – to her legs so she could walk, her jaw to create a beautiful bruise, her broken hand so it would ‘miraculously’ heal or her brain, which was racing with the consequences of her actions. After what seemed like an eternity of inner debating, the body, mind, heart and spirit that made up Charlie, agreed to get the body working first, then deal with the guilt and sorrow.

As she had done so many times before, Charlie tried to shut off the emotions and negative thoughts and focused on standing. Everything seemed unreal, like a nightmare, but this was the life of the Maquis – a nightmare with a brief glimpse of joy and camaraderie. Somehow, the legs finally responded and Charlie stood up – swaying slightly from the change of altitude.
“We…we can go.” Charlie’s eyes had dulled, her mind separated from her emotions, if only she could block out the pain. She struggled to keep both her body and mind in check, forcing the feelings of remorse, guilt, anger and self-destruction to the back of her mind.

==============================================
OOC (Out of Character): 'Mama, I killed a man. Put a gun against his head, pulled the trigger now he's dead.' - Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody ;D

[celest]

Kira's mind races. She looks quickly to the center of the room where her ship mates are. Oh Damn it all. There is no way I'm gonna be able to get them all out safely. Not with these guys in the door. No I got to get Maxwell out of here. Lets just hope I can talk these guys into letting us go. As for the others, the captin will know what to do, if they don't get themselves out of this mess first. She whispers under her breath to Maxwell still leaning on her. "Don't say anything Maxwell, I'm getting you out of here, but you need to keep quiet." She stands slowly helping Maxwell up and makes her way slowly towards the door. She walks slowly up to the closest Security member. Oh hell, well here it goes. "Excuse me stir, I'd like to my friend out of here. He is drunk and suffers from PTS. He may have alcohol poisoning. I need to get him to a doctor." She looks at the officer, putting her most wooried look she can muster on her face. Pleading with them with her eyes.

[Atreides Conscript]

Kira: The security team's leader, a large man of possibly Arabic human heritage, looks at you with a grimace on his face. After a few moments, he speaks to you in a voice that seems to be straining to avoid showing his frustration and anger.

"There is a medical team on its way from our vessel. This man will be cared for. My current orders are to detain you all until this matter has been investigated and the proper parties brought to justice."

After that, he motions for his men to begin casing the room and rounding up people. Two men wait at the door with phaser rifles at the ready. The lead security officer then speaks out in a clear voice above the rustling voices that are now filling the room.

"I am Lieutenant Commander Alhan Spetra (perhaps not entirely Arabic) of the Federation starship Merlin. If you would all place your weapons on the floor and remain calm, we'll get through this situation as quickly and as easily as is possible. There is a medical team which will be here momentarily to treat any wounded. I'm going to ask you all for your cooperation in this matter."

Charlie: You get the images to stop mesmerising you just as you look to the door. Perhaps it isn't really your willpower that snapped you out of everything, but rather the grim situation ahead. An entire team of Starfleet security personnel seem to have come out of nowhere and now bar your exit. You see their leader, a lieutenant commander by the pips, say something to your ship's doctor and then gesture to his team.

You can't get any actions through to your limbs as they begin to move throughout the room. Two stand at the door, heavily armed with phased compression rifles, and others are moving about the room with weapons drawn. They begin rounding people up into manageable groups as the lieutenant commander speaks out.

"I am Lieutenant Commander Alhan Spetra of the Federation starship Merlin. If you would all place your weapons on the floor and remain calm, we'll get through this situation as quickly and as easily as is possible. There is a medical team which will be here momentarily to treat any wounded. I'm going to ask you all for your cooperation in this matter."

Now what? Hope of outright escape is slim, and a fire-fight would be downright suicidal. There has to be some way out of this.

Maxwell: The tears run down your face and mix with both wet and encrusted blood, dripping in small spatters of red on the floor. One of your eyes is swollen somewhat, and is just now opening fully as the dried blood loosens its grip upon your eyelashes. You move, but it pains you greatly... especially in your head. You are aware that you're still being held onto by the doctor... and that she's speaking to somebody.

You strain to get a look at the man, and find him to be a tall security officer... lieutenant commander it seems. He says something about a medical team and detaining everyone before telling his team to start moving about. He then walks into the room where you can more easily see him and projects his voice outward at the crowd.

"I am Lieutenant ------- ander Alhan Spetra of the Federation star ---- Merlin. If you would all ------ weapons on the floor an ---------- calm, we'll get through ------ tuation as --- ickly and as easily as is poss ----. There is a medical team which will --------- momentarily to treat any ----------. I'm going to ------- all for ------ co ------- this matter."

Maybe it's the splitting headache, maybe it's the blood blocking your ear, and maybe it's the remaining alcohol in your system... but hearing is definitely a problem. Hopefully Starfleet Medical, or the good doctor holding onto you, can do something for that.

Yen: Well, Charlie is injured and seems to be out of it somewhat. You look to see how the doctor and other man are doing, but see just what you hoped not to. A Federation team has arrived and looks ready to tumble at a moment's notice.

They begin to move about the room as the alpha of their group starts to move forward, inspecting his surroundings with a deep scowl on his face. He pauses on you and Charlie for a moment (no doubt noticing your drawn weapon), but doesn't seem too worried about the two of you. He then addresses the murmuring mob of people in front of him.

"I am Lieutenant Commander Alhan Spetra of the Federation starship Merlin. If you would all place your weapons (he glances at you) on the floor and remain calm, we'll get through this situation as quickly and as easily as is possible. There is a medical team which will be here momentarily to treat any wounded. I'm going to ask you all for your cooperation in this matter."

Unbelievable... he doesn't even seem to care that you're armed and could open fire at any moment! How can he be so calm after his own crewmen are dead? Perhaps you should put down your weapon, as winning a fight in this case is hopeless... but then perhaps not, as doing so would take away any immediate chance of escape.

Jondro: You arrive at a turbolift after walking down a poorly cleaned service hallway (if this is a Maquis ship, it must be fairly large to have a lift instead of access ladders). Upon entry of the lift, the guard presses a sequence of keys (access code probably) and then another button as a set of keys off to the side light up. You feel the lift jolt as you are moved upward about six decks in a matter of moments.

As you arrive on the bridge, you see various men and women moving about in rather odd uniforms. Black tunics with yellow embroidery, they are like nothing you've ever seen before... until you take note of the tunic under your guard's overjacket....

An average height woman sits at the captain's chair reading a datapad. Judging by the hair colour (an incredible shade of pearlescent blue), she isn't likely human, but definitely not Bajoran either. Her long hair swathes about as she turns to look at the lift. She gets up with haste when she sees you, and walks forward. As she approaches, she walks with an almost trained strut. She appears human in all features... but the hair must be cosmetic, and the eyes are uncannily violet.

"Who is this man? Have you found me another potential employee Tucker?" She says this all with a mildly inquisitive look on her face, and a slight smile. You almost feel as if this woman is looking at you in a way that is far different from how a captain should look at her crew.

"Yes captain... he's got a lot of different talents that we could use, and he looks pretty good. So far as Bajorans go anyway I guess...." The man sounds far less stern onboard than he was outside. He's almost joyous it seems.

"Well, if he works out you'll get bonus pay this month as quoted. Just remember that there is still a process he must go through, even when we do need more hands onboard. If he doesn't make the cut (she looks at you unabashedly), then I can't give you a bonus."

"Now (peering into your eyes), who would you be, and in what areas are you particularly skilled?"

You like to believe that you're quite adept at figuring out most situations... but this one has you confused to no small extent. This obviously isn't the ship you're looking for, but what do they do here? The question of what species this woman is pulls at your curiosity as well. She's not just incredibly beautiful, but she looks people directly in the eyes when speaking to or about them. She seems to have no fear of people whatsoever.

What is this?

[Kensai]

Charlie looked in disbelief at the group; there was no way they could fight with fists through this. She glanced at the lead security man as he spoke, like a well trained security officer he was detaining everyone and trying to be impartial – but she was sure some anger was boiling away inside. As he ordered for them to drop their weapons, Charlie was almost too willing to – rather the horrible device was on the floor than in her hand. She did it with a hint of regret; a good Bajoran disruptor was hard to come by.

The last thing Charlie wanted to do was go back to prison; she was needed outside the sanitized walls of the Federation’s ‘Correctional Facilities’. Her brain was not functioning more than the constant shouting to escape. She tried negotiating, even though her skills with words were not as powerful as her skill with fighting. A final maneuver, that if it failed, meant she would have to think harder – which was difficult with a throbbing headache.

“Lieutenant Commander Spetra?” she tried to straighten her back, but the weight of her legs was pulling her down, “You…you realize that the jurisdiction in this bar falls under local law….not…not Starfleet? We…we have a perfectly good doctor” she motioned to Kira, “Let her return to our ship, retrieve medical supplies and return to treat the wounded.”