MSNPC Administrator B'hab - Wet Nurse
Martin Tucker
The Lattice Alliance Administrator from Shliak Corporate stalked the bridge like a Mugato stalking its prey before striking. He stopped in the center of the bridge, turning to the view screen. He was pretty sure by now that the Starfleet vessel knew they were here, and it was by design, of course. He had his orders, and while he’d like to completely destroy the Ronin, he was told to make an example of them. Why are they being merciful (in B’habs mind), and they should turn that vessel into space dust.
B’hab: Helm, inch us into the Ronin's sensor range, and raise shields.
Helm: At once, Administrator…
The Shiliak/Tholian Leviathan was of new design and is the first of its kind, but not the only one. The Alliance has a secret shipyard where Tholian scientists and Sheliak Corporate science administrators work on the latest Sheliak/Tholian technology. The Phoenix Rising was a technological marvel, with Leviathans 2.0; they’re small, faster, and heavily armed, most notably the dual Sencha cannons. He had a lot more tricks up his sleeve as well.
He rubbed his hands together and then clasped them behind his back.
B’hab: Full stop.
Helm: Full stop, just inside their sensor range. They’re going to end up scanning us, sir!
B’han: Let them. ::he smiled, even if his face was deep within the hood over his head::
B’hab looked around the large bridge, helm facing the view screen just in front of the center. Instead of a captain's chair, there was a raised dias with a forward-facing control console. That’s where B’han could stand and observe every station on the bridge and engineering. He turned on a heel, causing his cloak to rustle about his ankles. Whatever B’ek had done to him, he couldn’t fully heal it, and it looked hideous to most.
He stepped up onto the dias and addressed the bridge managers.
After making a few adjustments, fire control was no longer all his, and tactical would remain to help run attack and defense patterns, as well as the many phaser banks that bristled the ship. B’hab was in charge of the Sencha weapons and the chroniton torpedoes. Sadly, they only had a couple on hand, as they were a fairly new design by Alliance scientists and weapons masters.
If it wasn’t’ excrusiating to smile, he would’ve been.
He keyed the console in front of him; he now had access to all weapons, navigation, and tactical. While the crew would still play their part, it just meant that B’hab was able to fix on the fly if it were needed, and he’d really like to be the one to deliver the death blow to the Ronin and Starfleet.
Set an example.
B’hab: Right now, they’ve most likely gone to battle stations because we’ve gotten too close; we have our shields raised, though no weapons fully spooled up…yet. Helm brings us to the heading 1-4-5, mark 26, and hold there.
The ship moved, so that the Phoenix Rising was just off the Ronin’s port bow, just inside scanning range and likely their weapons range. The Rising’s bridge was full of activity as they prepared for battle stations, though the Administrator was holding off for the time being.
The Administrator opened a comm channel.
B’hab: Attention, Federation starship Ronin, you are currently trespassing.
Ronin: =/\= Response =/\=
B’hab tried not to laugh in the man's face.
B’hab: To put it simply, you have ten minutes to gather your crew and leave this system, and you will leave intact. You stay a minute over your welcome, and they’ll be salvaging your ship all over the system, piece by piece. And you are not the great Captain Niac, I take it you’re his wet nurse.
Ronin: =/\= Response =/\=
The Sheliak could only shake his head.
B’hab: Do not test me Captain.
Ronin: =/\= Response =/\=
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Administrator B'hab
LATF Phoenix Rising
Sheliak Corporate