[Kalen]
As he lifts the cup of tea to his mouth, the ship rocks violently and the tea finds a new home for itself on the floor of the lounge. The klaxons sound and lights flicker. Tasrek turns 180 degrees in his chair, dropping his cup he exits the lounge. He finds the turbo lift.
Tasrek> Oira! ::feels the surge of the lift::
[Moments Later]
Tasrek erupts from the lift. Looking around he finds the oira bustling
with organized confusion. He spots the Ops console now manned by
tr'Shaleya. He moves in near the Tac console to see what is going on.
Looking over the tactical display from several feet away. Not wanting to get in the way. He over hears a conversation between the captain and another officer. The science officer, he thinks. He watches as the tactical officer manipulates the buttons.
Tr'Kuro's fingers dashed across his panel, his eyes were fixed on his
console, occasionally darting up to check the bridge status. He dropped
tr'Elq's feedback into his targeter as he awaited alignment. Tr'Raith
gave the order to fire at will. Elq called the shots off in brief
accurate tones as helm pulled the ship through beautiful evasive
maneuvers. Kuro was busy cutting loose merciless and accurate shots at
the small bombers and fighters, keeping in mind Remleq's squadron.
Tr'Raith sat in the throne barking orders, cutting violent paths across
his virtual displays, and ((rather frustrated)) was trying to figure
something out.
tr'Raith> How the hell did someone get on the ship! ::growls looking
at his left heads up display::
tr'Elq>::still busily calling the shots:: Maybe it happened when we
beamed Ragarok over to Den's vessel?...
tr'Raith> ::growls and looks over at Kuro::
tr'Kuro>::temporarily sends TAC control to the COM console and stands::
I'm on it, rekkhai.
tr'Raith> Menkha. Ghire! Take tactical please...
Kuro storms off the bridge headed for the transporter room. After a
moment in the turbo lift, he closes on the entrance weilding his
disruptor. He taps the panel and jabs his disruptor into the opening,
finding the room completely empty. His expression hardens as he sees the transporter panel seared and giving off sparks. He walks to the console and looks over it quickly.
tr'Kuro> +taps+ Kuro to oira
tr'Raith>+taps+ Go ahead
tr'Kuro>+taps+ just making sure there is no large form of mutton
attacking the bridge
tr'Raith>+taps+ What?
tr'Kuro>+taps+ Nevermind, there is no intruder, the electrical storm
screwed over the system I have no idea what Remi is talking about. I'm
heading over the shuttle bay.
tr`Raith> +taps+ Aye.
The Sub Commander is standing in his throne jerking about wildly.
Calculations and information arch around his hands in a chaotic pattern- the officer's sky white eyes taking all their info in. Raith sends information and orders through the grid and into his officers consoles. With out word order is given to his racing crew. two bombers down and another damaged the communications officer and Ghire are whipped into a frenzy of frantic firing.
The bridge crew, with out even knowing it, is in a perfect harmonic
state- focused on the task at hand- not needing to even talk about it.
The only hindrance that keeps bothering the commander, is Den's
relative silence. He hasn't the time to scan for the Sketh... and finds
himself slightly worried about its survival.
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