Act 5

Captains Log – Stardate 66158.97: After seven days of travel, we have finally arrived at Japorri II. I have every expectation that we will be able to resolve the situation without much difficulty.

"Welcome to Japorri II, Captain Traz," the Protector of the Planet said, standing and holding his arms out wide to both sides of him. "I only wish your arrival was under better circumstances."

The Office of the Protector was a large, ornate office with hard-wood floors, a table of very fine marble and more than a few solid metallic statues stood along the walls. The entire bridge of the Wayne could have easily fit into the room, with space to spare. Traz couldn't help but be unimpressed by the grandeur of what she saw. No, it was a way for a small man to feel important about himself.

"I as well wish that it was under better circumstances, Protector," she replied, mirroring the language of the other. She waved back behind her to the two others with her. "This is my First Officer, James Enviro and my Chief Tactical Officer, Z'org."

"A Gorn?" the Protector said, his large eyes growing wider. It was actually quite a feat, to tell the truth. She didn't realize his Baby Blues could get any bigger. "In Starfleet? You must be joking."

"The Captain never jokessss," Z'org said with an edge to his voice.

The Protector opened his mouth to say something. He held his mouth open for a few seconds, debating whether he should or not but decided in the end to let it be. The man indicated the seats infront of his desk. Traz did not glance back to James, keeping her eyes fixed ahead as she took a seat. Enviro followed suit but Z'org remained standing. How he reminded her in that instant of a Tyrannosaurs Rex, standing in the ruins of the Jurassic Park reception center. By the Seven Gods! She really needed to watch that series again.

"The situation has remained the same since we called for assistance," he said, jumping straight to business. "I cannot think of anything else. We lost a whole cargo ship that was going to transport six hundred cases of medicine to the Gallo Continent to the east of us across the ocean. They blew it up right in the harbor itself!"

"How many were lost by the attack?" the Captain asked.

The Protector lowered his head to his desk, resting his temple on his raised hands. "Six dock workers were injured and three of the cargo ships crew have been unfound, we assume vaporized by the explosion. The dock has had to be closed to clean up the debris and property damage is going to run at least a couple million of our Colle, our form of currency." He lifted his head, his large blue eyes mournful. "I am really at a loss. These terrorists only attack medical centers and anything related to the cure for the Plague. I have no idea why they are so determined to have people suffer and die."

"We don't know much about your Plague," Traz shrugged. "We know the hows and whys, but the exact nature of the Plague eludes us. Like what it does to the body. You say it is 100% lethal? What does it do exactly?"

"It varies from person to person," the Protector sighed, leaning back. "Once infected, it actually processes through your system. It goes through all the things your body is likely to get sick by, finding any defects in your DNA, takes it and kills you with whatever you are prone to get. If you have a history of blinding headaches, it increases it tenfold, until you get an aneurysm and die. If you have a high chance of breast cancer, it accelerates it, and within 48 hours you are dead. All our efforts to combat it have failed."

"And thessse terrorissstsss make it harder," Z'org nodded his head once. "We will help you ssssweep the lower levelssss of the city, eliminating all of thessse cowardssss."

"My First Officer will remain along with my Security Chief and a squad of our finest Starfleet officers," she agreed. "They will coordinate with….."

A distant thunder-clap caught their attention. The Protector shook his head, letting out a sigh. "I wonder what they hit now," he said with a grunt. "Alright, Captain, I will take any help you can give. And perhaps your Doctors on your starship can help further along the cure."

Traz smiled. They could do that. She stood to leave and with a wave of her hand. Enviro stood up as well. She glanced at his face, and saw a look of contemplation, perhaps distrust on it. They moved off to a short distance, heading to the transporter pad near the front of the main chamber.

"Number One?" she asked.

"I have a gut feeling that there is more to this than meets the eye," he explained. "Captain, I've never heard of terrorists groups with this much activity that focus so much on one thing. ISIL of Earth, the Vulcan breakoffs, the Bajoran terrorists. They all went after anything of importance and even nonimportance. Yet only medicine? It makes no sense."

"Unless the terrorists released the Plague and then they wouldn't want it to get cured," she said.

"But in two years they have made almost zero progress against this?" he asked doubtingly. "This isn't exactly a Dark Ages society. They should have made some progress."

Z'org hummed. "Not all enemiesss are ssso easssily overcome, Commander," he pointed out.

Traz understood what Z'org was saying, and she was inclined to agree with her scaly friend. Yet, she didn't want her First Officer to ignore his gut. If he thought there was something more, she wanted him to act on it. Cautiously and without too much rashness.

"Alright," she agreed. "Keep an eye out. Keep me updated every three hours. I'll be on the Wayne."

"Yes ma'am," James nodded his head.

Like everything in this building, the transporter pad was made of rare materials on this planet. Gems stones lined the walls of the transporter pad, like pebbles in a river of yellow shiny material that surrounded her on every side. The waste nearly made her vomit.

"Traz to Wayne," she said, "One to beam up."

A blizzard of white and blue filled the pad where she was standing. The sounds of the energizing beam filled both her ears with white noise and suddenly she was gone, leaving her dashing First Officer and strong, brave Gorn on the planet alone.

"Ensign….ensign….Tyler Daarth, yes?" the Asian woman said, standing in the Ops Room. On most starships of the Federation, the Flight and Operations officers were under the same head commander, and on the Wayne the Operations Manager oversaw both. The Ops Room basically acted as meeting room and office for the Ops Manager and was located on deck three.

"Y-y-yes ma'am," Tyler said, keeping his answers short and to the point. It was a way to keep his stammering to a minimum.

"I am Lieutenant Commander Yoshi Tano," she said. They stood of near same height, so either Tyler was a short Caucasian male, or she was a tall Asian woman. Tyler couldn't figure out which one it was though. "I realize it's been a week since you got on board and I apologize for making you wait this long before giving you an assignment. However, there wasn't a Flight Control position and I doubt that you wanted to be a shuttle pilot."

"I-I-I would r-r-rather not, ma'am," he agreed. He hadn't joined Starfleet to pilot shuttlecraft. No, he wanted to pilot the starship itself.

"Well you are in good luck, Ensign," she said, punching a few orange buttons on the console before her. "Alpha Shift for weekdays on the bridge has opened up. Ensign Tendok wanted to transfer over to Engineering. Give him more of an expanded role and widen his skill set. So, you will report tomorrow at 0700 hours. You will be working alongside Ensign Mary Crest who is our weekday Alpha shift Ops officer. Any questions?"

"I-I-I think I u-u-understand, ma'am," he said, trying to suppress the rising giddiness.

He understood that they did three shifts on this ship. He was going to be able to pilot this Norway-class ship eight hours a day, forty hours a week! What was there not to like? He couldn't wait to tell his friends from the Academy about this! How he'd love to see the smug-face of Yedrin Perim fall as he was again forced to realize that he was stuck with his big sister watching his every move!

"I do have a question of my own though," she said.

"Ma'am?" he asked.

She looked a tad uncomfortable as she was about to say whatever it was. "Look Ensign," she said, holding up hands he felt more looked like they fit on a large man then a slender woman like Lt. Commander Tano. "I am not one to criticize people's natural shortcomings. However, I must ask. Your speech impediment. Is it going to get in the way of your doing you duty? Because if so, I can't have you being on the bridge if that is the case. You need to be concise and able to make quick response. Can you do that?"

It was a valid question. He wasn't so sensitive as to get bent out of shape over it. He shook his head three times.

"D-d-do not w-w-worry, ma'am," he said with no small amount of pride in his voice. "I a-a-always pull t-t-through."

Tano stared at him a few seconds longer. Her slanted eyes squinted even more so as she scrutinized him. He kept his back straight and his posture correct. Projection of confidence was key to any situation.

"Okay, then," she finally said. "I would go ahead and meet up with Ensign Crest. You two will be working together all the time so best get introduced before your shift. Hit it off, as it were. Dismissed."

"Y-y-yes ma'am," he said, inclining his head and turning towards the door. He got to the door, then stopping turned to her. "Ma'am?" She glanced up at him. "M-m-mata ashitane."

Perhaps his thirteenth….or was it fourteenth?….conquest in the Academy had been a Japanese girl. She had become attached to him and that was one of the few things he had remembered of the encounter. He had used a translator to figure out what 'mata ashitane' was and had learned it meant "See you tomorrow." No, he hadn't seen her again. That wasn't the exact point of a one night stand, as the Superintendent of his Orphanage had called them.

"I'm Korean not Japanese, Ensign," she said with a small smile. "What you mean to say is 'naeil bwayo'."

"S-s-sorry," he said, flushing a little bit, then inclining his head, turned and headed out of the door.

He liked the idea she had given him. It would be far better for him to meet up with Ensign Crest before they met on the bridge for work. It would give them the benefit of being off on the best foot, and there was no better way of doing than knowing the person beforehand.

"Computer," he called out to the all-seeing Big Brother computer. "What is the location of Ensign Mary Crest?"

"Ensign Mary Crest is in Exercise Gym 7," the computer said.

Exercise Gym 7? "And where is that located?" he asked.

"Deck 17, Section C-10."

Tyler nodded. Okay, that would be easy to find. Section C was the left hand rear part of the ship. It would be easy to get there and he was sure that he would be far more then capable to make a good impression. No, he wasn't out to bed her or anything. Nope, he was determined to keep it strictly professional.

He passed by a dozen crewmen on his way to Exercise Gym 7. It was actually a pretty dumb name. Exercise Room or Gym would be appropriate by themselves. Anything else would seem really awkward and unwieldly. This thought still plagued him as he stepped up to the room. He actually hoped that wasn't the name on the door plate.

Yep. It was.

The door slid open to accept him and he stepped into a Yoga class. He blinked at the seven women and three men doing Yoga poses. The instructor sat at the head of the class. Her eyes closed, legs crossed and hands held together over her head like a church steeple. Everyone else was doing this at the same time.

"Just a few more seconds," she said to the class. "A few more, with good measured breaths. Good, very good. Okay…..that will do it. Thank you all for you attendance and I hope to see you again tomorrow."

The class began to break up, slowly rising from their cross-legged positions. Most of the class were humans, but there was a Vulcan and a Bolian in the mix. Tyler remember being told by a Vulcan friend at the Academy that he actually found it rather pleasing to do Yoga. It was very, what was the word he had used? Ah yes, 'logial'.

"E-e-excuse me," Tyler said to the first person heading to the door. A human about his height, but with a thicker body. "W-w-which one is-is-is Ensign Crest?"

"Oh, you mean Mary?" the man said with a quirky smile. He turned his head to the group, most of them in the process of wiping themselves down with towels. "Hey Mary! Someone looking for you."

"Oh?" a woman said, lifting her head as she padded herself down with a pink towel. "Who is it?"

"Dunno," the man called back, giving Tyler a hard pat on the back. With that, he stepped outside, and the class began drifting towards the door. The woman was among the last to leave, but she stepped up to Tyler, wrapping the towel around her neck, holding onto each end.

And Tyler was thunderstruck. She was….well….amazing! She was about his age (which in his case was 23) and she looked like a goddess! Sweat still glistening off her athletic frame, her brown hair fell to about the bottom of her shoulder blade. With a sleeveless white top that was drenched in sweat and light blue yoga pants, he could barely think straight.

But that was barely. He still could and to heck with his wanting to keep it professional! Professionalism was for losers anyways. He reached down to his arm and rubbed just below the tendons that connected the triceps to the wrist. It was a good luck charm of his.

"H-hi," he said, holding out his hand. "M-m-mary Crest?"

"Yeah, that's me," she said, taking his hand in hers.

"M-m-my name is Tyler Daarth," he introduced himself. "I-I-I am the n-n-new flight officer for A-a-alpha shift."

Her grey colored eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, very nice to meet you!" she said giving him a full smile. "I just wish that you hadn't have met me when I was all sweaty and icky. Not a very good first impression."

"F-f-first impressions I-I-I find are o-o-overrated," Tyler shrugged.

"You are too kind, Mr. Daarth," Ensign Crest said with a small laugh. "Hey, I am heading to the Rec Room for some lunch. Wanna join? Give us a chance to get to know one another a lot more."

"T-t-that sounds like a p-p-plan," he replied. "I w-w-was hoping to g-g-get to know the p-p-person that I-I-I will be w-w-working with a lot. M-m-much better at effectiveness."

The woman smirked at that. Yes, Tyler thought to himself, they would get along just nicely.