Ensign Favon - Back Out, Again

[Favon]

 ((Briefing Lean-To, The USS Eagle Outpost))

There were many ways Favon had imagined the beginnings of her Starfleet career. Spending over a week eking out an existence in the sands of an unknown planet was not one of them. She'd made herself useful where she could, applying her basic medical skills to tend to wounds as the crew trickled in, sentry duty to ward off the local fauna, and salvaging equipment, but she was eager to find a way off planet and back to the real work.

Certainly by the time the Captain called them together, she was almost looking forward to what they had planned. 

Adea: Right, thank you all. It’s not been an easy time, but you’ve excelled yourselves at survival. But now we have to start thinking seriously about how to get home. To that end, Commander Adyr and I have come up with a cunning plan, or at least part of one.

It took all of her professionalism and respect for authority to keep from rolling her eyes, casting a glance first at the human tactical officer, as if he was to blame for their captain's misplaced sense of humor, and then at the watch given to her by their Orion classmate. It was something she'd received as part of the exchange gifts Vharro had insisted upon prior to their graduation. Not that the antiquated looking time-piece held too much use at the moment, given their present wayward temporal state, in spite of its fine craftsmanship.

Adea: First things first, we need to get off this planet, and find the rest of the Federation, if it even exists. To that end, Commander Adyr will lead a team to ::he flipped open a tricorder and projected the map they had:: this location. It looks like it might once upon a time have been a small ship depot of some kind, possibly Starfleet. However, it has fallen into the clutches of someone we know only as Taammir; they appear to be attached to something called “the Emerald Chain”. Adyr, your job will be to infiltrate this depot, and recover us a ship, or ships, that can get us off world en masse. Braya, you’ll be joining her as you’ve flown over the depot, and you’re a pilot. You might need to do some tinkering to get it started, so take Tanner with you as well.

Adyr / Braya / Tanner: Response

She blinked, attempting to recall information which might be relevant and coming up blank. She'd supposed there'd be more to learn when they came back, if they came back.

Adea: Commander Falt; we’ve discovered a huge chunk of the Proust Station managed to survive entering the atmosphere and is possibly a great mine of resources for us. Be careful, however, as Jashkaa, Oromis and the rest of the last team I sent there haven’t returned… ::he let out a sigh:: or replied to hails. You’ll be taking Favon and Frex, as well as Professor Numerdor - he will know what’s survived best. 

Favon straightened up at the sound of her name, before furrowing her brow at the mention of Commander Jashkaa. They'd crashed together, and the Commander had maintained her good spirits despite the strained circumstance. She could only hope they weren't in too much danger.

Frex: It looks like we've got a clear path to get there. It'd take us the better part of what makes up a day on this planet. So, since it's getting close to sunset, we'd better be off.

Falt: Agreed, Ensign. The lizards will be less active at night and we want to reach the wreckage tomorrow with plenty of daylight to search for the others. ::turning to Adea:: Since this is a search and rescue mission I'm going to ask Gunny Hesan to join us given her expertise.

Favon nodded in agreement, better to be safe than sorry, she'd supposed.

Favon: Seems like a wise course of action.

Genkos nodded, leaving Tomas to assume he had no objection to their plan.

Adea: Commander Williams, we think we’ve detected a Federation distress signal due north of here. I want you to take ch’Clex, Lim and Drex and find who it is, then bring them home.

Lim: Sir.

Williams: Aye, Sir. We'll make sure we get them in time!

ch’Clex: ::antennae angled forward:: Understood, Commander.

Drex: Response

Adea: Commander Kettick; there’s an independent market town to the southwest. I want you to head there with Buccheri and Letek; although we aren’t familiar with the technology of this time, we’re going to need to get so real quick. So go there, and see what you can barter us. Ops has already put together a hoversled of things we can possibly trade, so take that with you.

Favon glanced at Buccheri, both to wish the human luck and to wonder how he would fare. Certainly their expierence together thus far hadn't given her an especially high opinion of the man.

Kettick: Sir.

Buccheri / Letek: Response

Adea: I’ll be staying here with Doctor Thalor and the rest of our medical team - we still have plenty of wounded to be looking after, and that’s where I’m needed best. Go in good faith, and remember - don’t let on that we’re here from the past - if the Department of Temporal Investigations exists in this part of the galaxy, I don’t want to get on their bad side.

Favon looked around, attempting to place the others she'd been assigned with. A task complicated by her lack of familiarity. A runner solved her problems, leading her to a serious looking Human and a Trill science officer.

Falt: Ensigns. It's good to meet you both, regardless of the circumstances.

Favon: Likewise, Commander 

Frex: Response 

Favon kept her bearing professional, glancing at both before turning to pay attention to the big Andorian Marine who towered over all of them. No small feat, given that she herself was over six-feet tall. 

Falt: We'll have plenty of time to get to know each other on our little night time hike. In the meantime, go grab what gear you need and meet me back here in twenty minutes

Favon: Understood. 

Frex: Response

Falt: That was quick! Grab your Search and Rescue gear Gunny, we've got a team missing somewhere in the wreckage of Proust Station.

Favon cast an inquisitive glance at the Marine. She certainly hadn't much experience with them and she found it... disconcerting about having a person of such an obviously military bearing aboard a Starfleet vessel.

oO I suppose it is a necessary discomfort. Starfleet has fought several wars, after all. Oo 

Hesan: Aye, sir. I'll be ready to move in five.

Tomas chuckled.

Falt: And I've just given these two twenty minutes... Ensign's Frex and Favon, this is Master Gunnery Sergeant Hesan.

Hesan: Sir's.

Favon: Pleasure to meet you, Master Gunnery Sergeant. I'll be back quickly.

oO Hardly going to disappoint now. Oo

Frex: Response

Favon moved quickly, timing herself with the watch. She grabbed her machete, tricoder, and some basic medical supplies on top of water and some rations. She presumed the Marine would be dealing with anything that couldn’t be scared off with a blade and boldness.

She was back in precisely seven minutes and forty-two seconds.

Favon: Reporting back as ordered, Sir. 

Hesan/Frex/Falt: Response

Favon: I have basic medical supplies, rations and water, a tricoder, and a bladed survival implement, Sir.

Hesan/Frex/Falt: Response

She took a moment to look around the camp as the group prepared to move back out into the desert sands. What a start.

oO What was that human saying? Out of the pot and into the furnace? How apt. Oo 

Hesan/Frex/Falt: Response

Favon: I can take point, Sir. Though, I suspect the Master Gunnery Sergeant would be bested suited to the task.

Hesan/Frex/Falt: Response

--

Ensign Favon

Helm/Ops Officer
USS Eagle

E240209F13