Ensign Basilone --- One time, as Science Camp,,,

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Alice Zim

Mar 8, 2019, 2:09:33 PM3/8/19
to UFOP: StarBase 118: USS Gorkon
( Stellar Cartography lab, deck 6, USS Njörðr))

Tis: YYYAAAANNNGGGEEEEEEERRRRR AAAAAAAAAHHHHH oO *Swears*. Damn it you Ferengi! Oo :: Carmen grimaced.:: Sorry sirs, Ensign.

::Joan stumbled, almost falling, at the sudden shift of weight, along with the loud shout in her ear, but caught herself in time. Not quite sure how to respond, she tried to give Carmen her best 'we're all in this together' smile.::

Marshall: Tis, you alright there?

Sim: What happened?

::Joan watched Carmen stare at Jo. The Commander, a puppy newly tucked under her arm, stare right back, frowning.  Carmen turned toward Joan, making an odd, grimacing face, all the while keeping eerily quiet. Carmen then suddenly sighed, shifting her weight again, and once again threatening to bring the still recovering Joan down to the floor. Joan decided that, at that particular moment, it was probably for the best that she was unreadable to telepaths::

::Carmen lifted her head, grinned widely, and shouted::

::Joan was about to ask Carmen how she was doing when she got the deafening progress report in her ear.::

Basilone:  Okay, good to know, Ensign  o O I hope that didn't sound as snarky out loud as it sounded in my head just now. O o

::Joan shook her head, hoping that Carmen's insistent shouting wasn't going to re-induce the ringing in her ears that the doctor's ventilation treatment had mostly cleared up. As Carmen moved on under her own power, Joan finally got a chance to catch her breath and untense her muscles.

Marshall: Right, let's get out of here. Through the main doors, into Science, and we'll figure out what to do from there. Basilone, you good?

::Joan nodded, and was about to verbally answer, when she spotted something hanging on the wall.::

Basilone: Hang on a second, Commander.

:: Feeling more steady now, Joan moved over to the object in question. Someone had gone to the trouble of mounting a 'pouch' containing a tricorder on the wall. Fortunately, they had mounted it high enough from the floor that Joan could reach it from the ceiling with just a small jump. Also fortunate was that the pouch had stayed sealed so that the tricorder had remained more or less in place and intact.::

::A quick investigation of the tricorder's log showed readings of the dogs' vital signs over an extended time frame. Which made sense, since a stellar cartography lab wouldn't normally have equipment to care and monitor biological specimens. But it did beg the question about what were dogs doing in the stellar cartography lab in the first place.::

::Feeling more useful with a bit of technology in her hand, Joan touted the tricorder toward Jo::

Basilone: Now I'm ready, Commander

Marshall: Great. Main doors it is.

(( Out into the Corridor, Deck 6, USS Njörðr ))

::Getting the door open had not been a problem. It had even been a bit anticlimactic, though Joan was happy that she had gotten her "space legs" back underneath her. What wasn't anticlimactic was seeing the gaping wound in the hull, and the only thing between her and the vacuum of space was a force field. It drove home to Joan that this wasn't the Academy any more. She could die out here. Joan swallowed hard and steeled herself, willing herself to focus on getting wherever the Commander was leading them. She even reassured herself that the Commander had a plan, and Joan needed to be ready to contribute to that plan::

::Joan was so focused on contributing to 'the plan' that she almost missed Jo giving orders::

Marshall: Enlisted quarters should be up this way. Cross-section there should take up to the next level. Tis, can you check that PADD and see if we're heading in the right direction, or map us out a plan of getting up top?

::Carmen looked momentarily confused as Jo handed her the PADD, then started shouting again::


::Carmen pointed at her ears while taking the PADD, then made some motion with her hand. Whatever meaning Carmen was trying to get across to Jo, the Commander either understood it or just decided she had more important things to do.::

::That important thing was handing over the puppy to Sim. Joan had not gotten a good look at it before, but now that she had, she thought it had to be the cutest, cuddliest, oochy-goochiest thing she had ever seen. For a moment, she let herself forget what kind of dire straits they were in, and let herself get lost in the puppy's adorableness.::

Marshall: Think you could take a look at this little guy? He's wheezing. I think it might have been the fire.

Sim: Of course. Let’s have a good look at you.

::Joan felt her heart grow three sizes that day as the doctor took care of the tiny patient. Then reality slammed back in hard when Carmen seemed to move forward with a purpose. Neither the Commander nor the Doctor seemed to be alarmed in the slightest, which meant that they must have been telepathically alerted::

Basilone: o O And me on the outside unable to look in, as usual O o

::The trip forward was a grim reminder of just how bad the situation was. Corpses were scattered along the way and Joan had to push back worries about her friend that she was supposed to meet at stellar cartography. Once they were getting wherever the Commander was taking them, then Joan would have time to worry.::

::The group came to a halt when the deck ahead began to be covered by a thin layer of a swirling mist. Whatever the mist was, it had a smell that stung Joan's nose and left a nasty taste in her mouth. The mist moved around the Commander's feet, and the way Jo moved her feet, it was obvious that the mist wasn't completely gaseous::

Marshall: Basilone, any idea what this is? It's like... ::she lifted her boot with some effort:: ...wading through tar.

::Joan's mind was happy to move away from the death they had passed and focus on a problem. Pulling out her tricorder, Joan's right eyebrow arched in response to the data that was returning.::

Basilone: It's a noble gas compound. Primarily xenon, though it's also combined with hydrocarbons. And ::Joan made an adjustment to her tricorder:: there's an electromagnetic pattern contained within. Not random, though I'd need more computing power than my tricorder possesses to analyze it.

Sim: It doesn’t seem to be doing any damage

Basilone: I wouldn't expect it to, Lieutenant. Back in the twenty-first century, they developed a similar compound for use as an anesthesia. Don't know what it's doing on a modern starship. 

::Joan almost explained how she knew that little bit of trivia, but now was not the moment to start a story of 'One time, at Science Camp, when I was thirteen...'::

Basilone:  I'd recommend not putting the puppy down on the floor any time soon.

Sim: I’m not putting our little friend down in it, if that’s what you mean. It might do internal damage if we breathe it in - what does the tricorder say?

::Before Joan could respond, Carmen interrupted with a shout::


::Joan spun around, having  all but forgotten that Carmen was there, so engrossed was she in the mist-like substance.::

Marshall/Sim:: Response

::Joan watched Carmen stare intently at the Commander and the Doctor and then, without a sound, spun and dropped to the floor unconscious.

Marshall/Sim: Response


Ensign Joan Basilone
Science Officer
USS Gorkon

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