RP Log: Heavy Matters

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Revision as of 23:08, 15 January 2024 by Lone (talk | contribs) (Created page with "Category:RP LogsCategory: 2452 <div> {| border="0" class="infobox bordered" style="width:210px; font-size:90%; float: right; clear: right ; border: 1px solid darkgray; background-color: #dee0e3; border-collapse:collapse;margin:1em 1em 1em 1em;" |- ! style="background-color:#878681;" colspan="2" | <span style="color:white">Roleplay Log</span> |- | style="width: 32%;vertical-align:top;padding:0.5em;" | '''Participants:''' * T'Shaav | style="width: 36%;vertical-...")
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Roleplay Log
Participants:
Location(s):
  • Quarters 1 East -- Deep Space 9
Stardate:
  • 129015.0
2024-01-15 17:31
Quarters East One <Deep Space 9>
Deep Space 9 has no designated quarters for the station's commanding officer. So, these look like all the rest in the east section of the habitat ring. The large room contains a bed, a desk, a replicator, standard bookshelving, and other fleet-issue furnishings.
The occupant has added a meditation slab made of jet black stone. There is also a large pet bed on the opposite wal. Otherwise, there are few personal effects immediately visible.


T'Shaav is out of uniform, sitting at the desk in her modest quarters. Soft stringed music is playing over the speakers. Her pet is curled up on her bed, taking most of it up. The animal emits a soft sound and looks to the door, and T'Shaav also looks up.

Svetzvani steps in when the door slides open. ""I'm sorry to disturb you, T'Shaav," she says, noting the casual setting.

"You are not disturbing me," the Vulcan says, standing. "Last evenings Romulan squadron was a disturbance. You are welcome. Would you like some refreshment?"

"Nothing, thank you," Tink replies with a quick wave of one hand. She eyes the critter and smiles softly. "How's your friend?"

"As dignified as her predecessor," the Vulcan says. "Since they are capable of sensing empathic information, a calm mind is calming to them. Sit where you like. Though if you sit there," she points to the bed, "you will have to share."

Svetzvani laughs lightly, then takes a chair instead. "Thanks," she says as she settles in.

T'Shaav sits across from you in another chair--there aren't many to choose from. "How is Mr. Coil?" She asks. "I assume you were asked to coordinate his defense and you have seen him. But perhaps I am mistaken?"

"You are only half mistaken," Tink replies. "I have seen him, but I have not been asked to supply his defense. But to answer your question, he's handling this whole thing with much more grace and dignity than I would in his position."

T'Shaav nods. "The Cardassians have no business having anyone on the court martial board," she says. "I objected in detail and on the record."

Svetzvani nods. "I quite agree," she says. "But what I used to think of as the considerable clout of my official capacity has of late been unequal to the task of making any difference in any damned thing at all. Frankly, I'm beginning to feel that I'm quietly being pushed out."

"Because senior Command is not listening to your concerns?" She clarifies.

"Because they're not even including me in conversations that, by their very nature, should be handled by the very branch of Starfleet of which I am the Chief," Tink replies. "We expand our territory, definitely something the Diplo Corps should at least be warned about so we can prepare statements. And how did I hear about it? From the Klingons. I was left out. Then this trial happens, and somebody somewhere decides, without even consulting my department which is in charge of relations with other governments, to include Cardassians on a panel that should be chaired by Starfleet officers only. And how did I hear about that? From Grand Gul God damned Sutil himself when we just happened to cross paths on the promenade. Did I get anything at all from our own people? Or own government? Not a word." She holds up a finger. "Not one God Damned word. Either our system at the top is falling apart, or they are deliberately leaving me out."

T'Shaav nods. Her pet makes a low wuffling sound and gets down off the bed, padding over to you, laying her head in your lap. Perhaps she is responding to your emotions. "I am sympathetic to what you say," the Vulcan says.

"Admiral Somyk suggested that if you and I combine what we know, we may know what can be known. What I know is very little. But I can share it with you. He thinks I already have, and his statement that if we share what we know ... I take it as tacit acceptance that I should discuss it with you."

Svetzvani glances down at the critter and instinctively gives it a scratch. "Either that, or he was mistaken and assumed that you had already shared that information with me, and was stating that we would collectively get no more information than that. Especially since, although it sounded like he suggested that he had told me something that would be of use, he told me absolutely nothing but that I didn't have a need-to-know."

T'Shaav nods. "I believe Starfleet is concerned about the Dominion. He did not tell me that, did not say, Dominion. But he did say Gamma Quadrant. And now the Romulan military is visiting there. I note that one effect of our recent territorial expansion is the creation of a corridor between Lya Station and here, and my command is tasked with gathering intelligence as it comes to us and reporting anything out of the ordinary. Vague enough."

"Out of the ordinary?" Tink asks. "Like the passage of a Romulan fleet through the wormhole?"

"Precisely," the Vulcan says. "I will be sending in that report today. Of course, the Romulans can go to the Gamma Quadrant if they choose. But what they do there matters much to all of us. Do you have any diplomatic contacts in the Star Empire?"

Svetzvani shakes her head. "Not exactly. The only contact I have at all is Hwiamma, and I wouldn't call that a diplomatic one."

"No, but I would not say it is an adversarial one, either," the Vulcan replies. "So I will file my report and continue to observe. I am not permitted to enter the Gamma Quadrant, myself, except to render aid under certain circumstances. The admiral was very clear about that."

Svetzvani sighs. "The Dominion," she ponders. "Great. Just what we need."

T'Shaav nods. "Meanwhile, I am concerned about Mr. Coil. I am not sure what defense he could make to nullify the charges. But I am a security officer, not a lawyer."

Svetzvani sighs again. "He won't make the most obvious one. He and I spoke about that at length last night. He... has his reasons, I suppose."

T'Shaav nods. "If he makes a successful one, then it will be good to see him cleared of this charge, one I had no wish to bring, and returned to duty."

"It would indeed," Tink agrees. "But at this point, I don't think there's anything we can do to help him."

T'Shaav nods. "The only one who can help Coil, is Coil," she says. "The difficulty with second degree murder, as opposed to first degree, is that you do not have to prove intent. 'I did not mean to kill him,' or, 'I did not plan to kill him,' neither is a valid defense."

Svetzvani says, "No, but they can sometimes get the charges lessened to manslaughter."

"I noted that in my original report. Manslaughter is certainly a lesser charge and is within the court's discretion," she replies.

"Let's just hope our two Admirals in there can keep a handle on Sutil," Tink adds.

T'Shaav nods. "Samantha deGrut has a very firm grip," she notes dryly. "And Admiral Kemper is very clever at the less than obvious."

Svetzvani gets to her feet. "Well, I'll let you get back to your time off. Thanks for the chat."