Mission Log 9 - Stardate 21512.21 "S.E.R.E."

Mission Logs for Gettysburg, “S.E.R.E."

Mission Summary

Mission dates: 21512.15 through 21611.15

Gettysburg

Following the destruction of the Avenger at the hands of a rogue Gettysburg, the Avenger crew was transferred to the Gettysburg. During the Gettysburg's security check and refit, the senior members of the Gettysburg crew were assigned to complete S.E.R.E. training on Ryla, a real world survival training exercise designed to pit the crew against marines. However, during the training, there was an incursion by mercenaries onto Ryla, which threatened marine and Starfleet alike. The teams were forced to ban together to fight back and escape Ryla.

Logs

Captain's Logs

Captain Tyra Crawford

21512.26

Commanding Officer's Log

Stardate 21512.26

Captain Tyra Crawford recording:

This is my first official log as the CO of the Gettysburg...

It just sounds so odd on so many levels.

Honestly, I had expected to be benched or to, at least, have to fight to get another assignment as captain but Thomas just handed the Gettysburg to me with only a little back and forth on the matter. That probably is a sign of how bad things are, that I didn't need to remind Thomas that he needs me as a CO as much as he needs to keep me safe. It's probably just as bad of a sign that I feel like I have to be a CO, that it's what is needed of me, regardless of whether its the best thing for me personally.

Shortly after being told I would be receiving the Getty, I managed tto slide past security to walk around in her. I can't explain the feeling I got from the trip -- it was like being on sacred ground with the ghosts of legends past still haunting the corridors.

My history with the Getty surpasses a single commanding officer and a single set of department heads -- yes, I am probably most fond of Derrick and the senior staff that I truly grew into myself with, but it would be unfair to minimize the impact of those early years. I wouldn't have known how to be a good COS without Aaron... Dayune taught me everything while forcing me to never take myself too seriously in our line of work. I wouldn't have known how to deal with mistakes with grace and compassion without Rex Idrani. And well, I wouldn't know how to diffuse a situation with some level of deftness if it hadn't been for being stuck between Dayune and Larsen on numerous occasions.

However, that bridge, in some part of my mind, will always be Derrick's. I could almost see him sitting in the chair when I entered that area, just like I'd imagined seeing Val or Sevala in Sickbay, Eaglestone in Engineering and Sadie or Judith in science. I do have to wonder if I can eventually get a ship that hasn't already been manhandled by one version of Grant or another, but I guess beggar's can't be choosers.

The walk did show me that I need to be careful -- the past, while important, needs to stay in the past. I can't treat this crew or ship like it's an old friend... it's a new beast with the same name but different characteristics. It will be a struggle because there are aspects of this ship, of its history, that are so innately entwined in who I am. I grew up here; that place has probably had more of a shaping effect on me than any other single aspect in my career... that's a little terrifying but also perfect. Where else more fitting to truly become my own CO?

Fortunately, I have time to grapple with it. The Getty won't be ready for weeks, at minimum. It's allowed for the crew to decompress and attempt to come to terms with what is happening politically but we have been bordering on the brink of restlessness that will not end well.

Fortunately, it has been recommended that we put the crew through SERE training. I agreed that it was both needed and a good way to occupy the troops, though after reviewing the current program it was decided that a rewrite was needed to fix what was an utterly abysmal training program. I intended to merely ask Dawson to assist me with rewriting it but as luck would have it Jasmine is on base working with Jenny on her recovery and Logan is on loan as he training Delta's emergency response units -- he wants to kill them so gladly volunteered to add his two cents. It was nice to work with people I've known for so long -- Dawson and I came up through the ranks, minus her stint on the dark side; Jasmine and I literally grew up together and Logan... well, Logan is the big brother that I never wanted or needed, but that never stops him.

With four of us, it took a little over a week to iron out the program and run some of the simulations. We briefed the crew this morning; the expected groups seemed overly excited while I think a few were contemplating going AWOL to avoid it. It will certainly be an interesting exercise -- I'll explain more of the details later, after we've worked the last minute tweaks on the marine side of the house.

I expect there will be a few failures but any good SERE has a fairly low success rate. Honestly, succeeding isn't nearly as important as learning from your mistakes, but let's see if I remember that once I'm ground fighting with one of Dawson's guys in the mud...

Personal Log, Supplemental

Thank God for this training, anything to keep my mind off the fact that it certainly feels like everything is falling apart at a very rapid rate.

The longer this rebellion fiasco continues, the harder it is for me to see a good conclusion coming from this situation. I agree that we are owed answers on a number of different issues, particularly the Getty vs. Avenger fiasco, though I'm not certain I would have made my first step be a rather open separation from HQ. Given that HQ could have easily defused the situation with a transparent statement, their propaganda filled bull**** is more than a little grating. The problem is that the propaganda probably makes a lot of sense until you've watched your ship and escape pods blown up by another Starfleet ship on orders from someone up high.

If we lose the war of public opinion, our cause is hopeless. Maybe it's selfish but I found that what upsets me most about the idea of losing is what would happen to Thomas. He'd surely be treated and tried as a traitor, even if he was trying to protect what Starfleet stands for. I don't know if I could watch that...

Then again, watching him kill his liver with a new found need for alcohol has been no easier. I know it's the manifestation of stress... I've seen it on the front lines before but it's unnerving from someone I know so well. I tell myself that he's still the same... and for the most part, that's true, just a shorter tempered, drinking version of himself. I just worry that the longer this goes on, the more I lose just a little bit more of the man I love.

It's worth it, or so I hope.

21601.05

Commanding Officer's Log

Stargate 21601.05

Captain Tyra Crawford recording:

SERE training begins tomorrow at some point. I personally think it'll be first thing and as such, I've already got everything laid out and ready to go. I'm prepped for Dawson's boys to come after me personally and I'm ready to give a few of them a good licking.

I've been impressed with how well the senior staffs of each department have handled the refresher course so far and I'm very curious to see how well they implement it in the field.

It'll also be interesting to see how the different departments interact together. There are two regions, swamp and forest, and everyone will be randomly placed within the two areas based on an algorithm. It'll make for some interesting dynamics no doubt and with so many new faces, there will no doubt be some headbutting.

We've done the final checks on everything. A forward operating group has already gone to Ryla to bring the command center online and double check the training arena. Dawson has triple checked her marines and made absolutely sure they know the rules of engagement for the exercise.

Besides the wild animals, I think we've accounted for all foreseeable risk elements. It should be a good training exercise and hopefully, move us all past the Avenger mess....

Personal Log, Supplemental

Speaking of Avenger, Grant has left the 4th Fleet for the 2nd... I could respect the decision if it was born of some deep ideological desire but both official and unofficial sources seem to point to the decision being based on personal grievances mixed with a newfound desire to paint himself as a victim in all things.

It doesn't sound like the Grant I served with for two years but his behavior since the Avenger's destruction has been nothing short of uncharacteristic. His grasp on reality seems to have slipped too or maybe, he's just showing his true colors...

I'd probably be angry about some of the things he's been saying about me personally if I wasn't concerned that the 2nd Fleet has given a ship to a relapsed alcoholic with clear emotional issues.

Actually, no, I am pretty pissed. Grant was once a friend and a mentor; now, he's twisting reality to paint people to fit his narrative. Based on his account, I'm nothing more than the product of failed nepotism, the sole reason for the Avenger's destruction. In his little world, his life story would probably be entitled "Derrick Grant: A Triumph Over Utter Victimization and Discrimination"... or some other bull****.

But let's totally ignore that he lost the Avenger because he couldn't follow orders. Or that I didn't want the Avenger and only took it to keep it from going to a CO that had no desire to keep the original crew together. Oh, or that it was his 'own' crew, led supposedly by his son, that hijacked the Avenger and put it in the position to be destroyed. Or Gettysburg for destroying it. Or that getting blackout drunk is a bad career move.

But, nope, it is all my fault and by extension, Thomas'. And it was all for the sake of kicking Grant right in the balls because he is just that important.

What a ******* self-absorbed petulant asshat. Can't even stick around to help what's left of his crew get through the loss...

Karma's a *****, Derrick, and shouldn't be too hard for her to find you with the path of burned bridges you're leaving in your wake.

Crew Logs

Commander Jason Simmons

21512.15

First Officer's log

Stardate 21512.15

Commander Jason Simmons recording

Since my last transmission, we have returned to Delta, in which I was assigned to prepare a post-mission get together, if for no other reason than for morale boost. At the get together, there were medals and promotions given out, which included a Commendation Medal for myself. We were also assigned to the Gettysburg, the same vessel used to destroy the Avenger.

Currently, we are being summoned to a briefing for our first mission aboard the Getty. With everything going on, and the 'civil war' that seems to be brewing, there's no telling what kind of mission this may be, as I have been left in the dark about it. Which is fine, as I have a lot of administrative tasks on my plate taking care of personnel and transfers, as well as updates. We'll see what this mission holds for us.

End log

21602.15

First Officer's log

Stardate 21602.15

Commander Jason Simmons recording

Since the last log, we have been assigned to survival training. The objective is to be dropped off in one of two locations on the planet Ryla. Our goal is to reach the checkpoint without being caught by the team of Marines set to capture us. Easy, right? A few notes on what has happened thus far.

We have recieved updated training on survival and continued preparedness. Knowing the day, I had made sure to rest up and prepare. I was already in uniform in the early hours of the morning when we were transported to the dropship. We were divided into teams to be dropped off in the Marsh and Forest Regions. I have been assigned to the Marsh region. I can only hope that everyone is ready.

End log

21603.15

First Officer's log

Stardate 21603.15

Commander Jason Simmons recording

Survival training has been quite the experience. I landed knee deep in a mud bog, with none of my other party present.

It didn't take me long to move out of the area, and eventually find Doctor Ohmsford, in the presence of local wildlife.

The creature did not attack, but was very protective of something, presumably a nest. We gave it wide berth and went about following water.

As we've traversed trying to find our goal, a glint from the dun caught my eye. Not sure what it was, but there was also a crack in the opposite direction. Moving to investigate while trying to keep an eye and get details of the gleam.

End log

21611.20

First Officer's Log

Stardate 21611.20

Commander Jason Simmons recording

Well, "training" is over. If that's what it could truly be called. I honestly think from the moment we set boots on the ground, or, in my case, knee deep in mud, we were never in training. Sure, it was planned that way, but we were definitely in for a surprise.

Some sort of mercenary group had infiltrated the planet and had taken over the base of operations. I know some of the Marines originally assigned survived, since, as a whole, we ran into a few. How many survived, I'm not certain.

After a gruelling time on the planet, which included meeting up with crew, getting separated again, being in a very precarious position in a mud bank and being shot at from every direction, my group found solace in a shack. In that shack, we met with Lieutenant MacKenzie, who had escaped captivity from these mercenaries. I was unaware she was supposed to be there until she notified us she was on a supply run in the Voltaire. Commander Pherrus, our Acting StratOps Director, was assigned as Voltaire's ACO during the flight, as she had been left in charge of operations on the Gettysburg until such time as our "training" was over.

We lost some good people planet-side, including our Acting Security Chief, and, apparently, Jonathan Moriarty, Anthony's brother. I'm still working up the report to send Anthony.

We're getting some recoup on Delta now, and I'm hoping Yeager returns before we're due off on a mission. I would like to see my wife, who had taken the CoS position aboard the Scout.

End log.

Lieutenant Jennifer Braggins

21601.02

Chief Tactical Officer's Log

Stardate 21601.02

Lieutenant Commander Jennifer Braggins recording:

Lieutenant Commander...never thought I'd rise to that lofty rank in this fleet!

Things have been...rough...these last few months. Admiral Grayson has separated himsef from Star Fleet Command and Earth following the unprovoked attack on the Avenger by the First Fleet's Gettysburg; an attack that saw the murder of sixty-odd members of the Avenger's crew and the destruction of the ship I had called home. I don't remember much, the Voltaire was crippled during the attack and I was out cold for over a week, I still don't feel right in the mornings...I still get short of breath sometimes, and my chest aches where they had to rebuild my ribcage...

Things haven't been roses for me emotionally...either... I can't shake the feeling that this promotion isn't deserved, and that has...affected...the way I have spent my recovery. The doctors ordered me to get as much bed rest as possible, yet I spend every waking hour training Delta's F-1 pilots, working on the Voltaire's repairs or working out in the gym. Whatever muscle I lost while comatose was regained a month ago, yet it has become almost a compulsion... I'm not sleeping at niht, I'm irritable all the time...I've gone into every gym on base, picked fights with the best hand-to-hand fighters on from those available, and have left most of them battered and bleeding on the mats...even Jake is suffering, when I'm not trying to kill him in the ring I'm afraid I might kill him in bed... Whatever is going on in my head, it's not healthy...but I can't see a shrink about it...

Tyra's just briefed us on some newfangled survival training a bunch of her colleagues came up with to replace the old-fashioned one. Apparently we...I refuse to call us Gettysburg crew...we people have given Admiral Grayson and the other older people on base one too many headaches. Apparently we'll be on a planet and get hunted by Marines with special darts that inject you with some kind of harmless toxin...harmless, but painful! Zephyr looks like she's really looking forward to this, and I know a few of the Security types are probably chomping at the bit to get started... Me? I'm just hoping it's warmer than the last time I did this; wandering across the tundra of Andoria without cold weather gear isn't something I ever wish to repeat...

Either way, if this 'rebellion' of Grayson's is going to lead to further violence, this may keep some of our more tender crew alive...or at least give them a chance to take a few of the enemy with them...

End Log

Supplemental, personal:

I need to talk to Zephyr when I get a chance. I've been neglecting our friendship for far too long. Maybe she'll know a way to drag me out of whatever malaise I'm in... I also need to have a chat with mom, maybe a few days with her and the kids will calm me down somewhat... I should also probably treat Jake to dinner and a quiet night in...remind him that he's a boyfriend and not a punching bag...

21607.04

Chief Tactical Officer's Log

Stardate...I have no idea...

I've been on this planet for...two hours? More? Less? I don't even know...

What started off as a simple SERE exercise has gone bad, I don't know how but it appears there are a bunch of mercenaries on this world and they're hunting specific members of the crew, The two that captured and drugged me were attacked and torn apart by the local wildlife, but one of them lived just long enough to tell me that I was one of their targets... I can make an educated guess as to their others...

I think whoever set this up has put a dampening field of some form up; most of my equipment that require power seem to be broken, yet this crappy recording device still seems to work. So here I am, alone apart from the torn up corpse of a mercenary and a puppy who can electrocute me. If I'm going to get out of this alive, I have to either lie low and hope the mercs leave or regroup with other members of the crew and take them on. Until then, I have...

(click)

One two three...seven...ten...

(click) (snap)

...twelve rounds to take on the mercenaries, ward off the local wildlife, and somehow get away from this place.

I guess the bad guys are going to have to share...

21610.15

Chief Tactical Officer's Log:

Stardate still have no idea!

I managed to link up with Jake and Judith, and then we linked up with Tyra and the new Security woman, Juice after an episode involving deep snow and gravity. If the situation weren't so serious, it would have been funny. We have found our way to what appears to be the Marine outpost, and I'm about to scout it out before the others move in. Though I can't see anyone around, I have this feeling deep in my stomach that we aren't alone. This would be the perfect place for an ambush; especially if they were here waiting for the Marines when they arrived ahead of us...

I don't like this... Not one bit...

Lieutenant Margaret Murphy

21611.28

Tactical Officer Margaret Siobhan Murphy

Stardate 21611.28

I think I'm the last one to make a mission log. I just really... I guess, really didn't want to. I'm just so damn tired from the mission. It's been a few days now, and I still feel exhausted. I also still feel like there's mud under my fingernails, but I've also take a couple sonic showers to make sure there isn't.

This mission sucked.

Okay, I guess I have to say more than that.

This mission really sucked!

[laughs]

We got to the planet, we were separated, which might've been the original intention, but instead of our Marines fake-hunting us, it was... it was a f*****g ambush. Oops. Sorry. Official log. It was an ambush. We... we lost our Security Chief. He was killed inches from my face. I dislocated my arm – that seems like small potatoes compared to everything else. It didn't help matters, though.

A few of us finally found each other, and our survival is all really due to this one marine, Eli MacKenzie. She led us back to a base the Marines were using, and from there we were able to get to the Voltaire. Ship was already up and kind of running when Simmons and I got to the Bridge, thanks to a Bolian whose name I forget at the moment. Good man... I guess. I guess this mission didn't pan out the way Starfleet intended.

I think this mission was supposed to be cat and mouse. Marines chase us, stun us, whatever. Like the game we used to play when we were kids – Capture the Flag. You could hold people 'prisoner' or 'hostage,' and someone would have to come along and 'tag' you and you'd all run away and be free, and try to free your other people, all while trying to grab the other team's colored flag before they grabbed yours.

But this was... this was...

[whimper]

I'm not going on any more so-called 'training missions.' I'll stick to the gym, thank you. Holodeck training is good enough for me.

I'm going to go to bed now. If anyone needs me, I'll be under the covers, with Piper, and a... a thing... of honey whiskey on my night stand. I'm glad Crawford declared Shore Leave – I certainly don't feel like sitting at the helm, thinking about the damned mission for hours on end.

.......

Oh yeah, End Log.

21608.03

Tactical Officer Margaret S. Murphy

Official Log

Stardate 21608.3

Running... through the forest... found a Marine... OUCH! [word censored] tripped over myself. Okay, here's the deal: Got separated from the group. Found the group. Got separated again from the group. Well, I had to leave them. Hated that part. Found a Marine... or rather, she found me. Now we're running towards Base Camp. Well, one of the base camps.

I'm gonna come back for Simmons and Blackhorn. I can't leave them behind. I just can't. It's killing me. Well, at least my arm isn't killing me any more. The Marine fixed that. Still hurts, but at least it's not dislocated any more.

God I hate this mission. I hated this mission from the beginning. Stupid practical training mission. “Expect the unexpected” and all that – well, I don't think they planned for everyone to be attacked by what are clearly the natives they missed, and, oh crap, I think I better stop recording and start helping...

Ensign Judora Claymore

21601.05

Security Officer’s Log

Stardate 21601.05

Ens Judora Claymore

Well, here we go.

First mission on the Gettysburg.

We’ve spent the past few days getting ready, relearning everything that we possibly can relearn about survival and sneaking around in unfamiliar territory. It’s safe to say that I knew more than I thought I did… and forgot a whole lot more than I thought I had.

The mission is going to involve hiding from marines, finding my way in unfamiliar territory, and not getting eaten by the locals.

This might be a bit optimistic, but overall I’m not really worried. If I keep my head together and remember the training, I think I should be generally ok.

It’s not like I’m going to be fighting a dragon in the snow … again...

As for the crew… despite my initial awkward meet and greet, so far so good. They seem like a good group of people. We’ll see how they… and I… hold up on this mission.

… What did mom say? “You don’t know anything about a person until they’re covered in mud and blood.”

I think she meant it metaphorically, but in this case I think I’ll probably get to see at least a few of them in actual mud… hopefully not so much blood though…

At least I can take Justice with me this time... stupid holodecks... stupid dresses...

(a moment of contemplative silence)

I wonder if there will be dragons…

(another pause)

… I should probably stop obsessing about dragons and get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.

End log.

21611.19

Security Officer’s Log

Stardate 21611.19 ` Ens Judora Claymore

Well. That could have probably gone better.

I was hoping a new ship and a new crew would help me get away from the craziness of the last mission on the Yeager. I was hoping that all of this would be refreshing: new faces and new locations. A bit of excitement sprinkled with a new perspective. I was hoping to get away from the damn snow!

But no.

My first mission with this crew, and it turned into at the very least a ****-show. And once again my favorite thing on earth… in the universe... appeared. Why did it have to be snow again!

(Indistinct grumbling noises)

Anyway. The report.

(Sound of throat clearing)

We were given the mission briefing, and a few days to train to prepare for the training mission. At the time, everything still appeared to be going well, and there were no obvious signs of tampering or hostility from anyone beyond the original mission competitiveness between Gettysburg crew and marines.

This carried over into the transport by shuttle. We lined up, were relieved of all non-compliant gear, and were given a few moments to collect ourselves before we began transporting to the planet.

I found myself in a forested area with no other signs of people. I, of course, ended up on top of a nest of bugs, which proceeded to try to attack me. I skillfully retreated without being stung too much, then continued on towards what I hoped was the landing zone.

While moving I happened to stumble upon the captain herself, and the two of us kept moving though the captain changed our direction thanks to more accurate knowledge.

At one point we found the scene of a grisly body along with scavenger enjoying its fill. At the time, we assumed it might be a scare tactic, due to the unnaturally cool temperature of the body - as if it had been refrigerated.

Actually, upon review, that could be exactly what it was. That might have been the body of some poor marine that was replaced so this horrible trap could be accomplished.

Computer, note: Request a search of the planet to identify any still dead and cross-check it with those missing.

Moving on from this scene was uneventful until the captain stepped on some kind of pressure device, a trap, which resulted in the captain and I being found by two men who we thought were marines. It turns out one of them was part of the mercenary band that had been hired to take the captain and Braggins, and the ‘marine’ was named Carmichael, who was a traitor.

I hope I never see that ****** again. And if I do… well, he won’t be around for long.

(Throat clearing noises again)

There was a fight, during which we discovered there was a dampening field meaning all of our technology no longer worked. Using traditional means against the attacker’s low-tech weapons, we were able to disable Carmichael and kill the mercenary. However, the captain was injured during the fight.

The captain and I, through the violent interaction, realized that the training mission was no longer training, and that something was wrong.

We retreated, taking what we could from the two assailants, and tried to reach somewhere where we could hole up and reassess. On the way, we met and disabled another mercenary who, under duress, revealed that the mercenaries had taken over and were hunting the captain and Braggins with orders to remove everyone else from the equation.

This mercenary was… lost… before any more information could be retrieved from him.

The captain and I kept moving, making it upriver and through a waterfall. The captain’s condition was deteriorating, but a run in with what the captain later described as a ‘chameleon cougar’ reinvigorated her.

Through a mishap involving a significant amount of snow, we discovered Braggins, Tucker and Schwartz. We split up, the captain and Schwartz heading to destroy the dampener while myself, Braggins and Tucker searched for some way off of the planet, or to at least contact someone off planet.

We eventually located a facility on a ridge. While trying to find a way in, we encountered Lieutenant Amelia Tiran who said she had been reassigned to the Gettysburg from our shared prior ship, the Yeager. It was a surprise to see her, especially in the … state... she was in. And how she ended up on the planet I still haven’t had the chance to find out.

However, it turned out to be good that she ended up where she did. She, along with Tucker, aided me in entering the compound. Braggins had stormed off on her own, and though neither of my remaining companions had definitive security training, they were more people and willing to help.

About this time the captain and Schwartz seemed to disable the dampener. Schwartz used this moment to broadcast a distress signal which everyone got.

Idiot.

I used this distraction to storm a control room and take out a number of hostiles in our immediate area. We then were discovered by the captain and another marine.

Through efforts by Blue, we were able to get transporters to work, and finally were able to remove ourselves from the planet.

(Audible sigh)

There is going to be considerable rebuilding necessary. While most of the casualties were the marines, we did lose a few, and all of the deaths - barring a few justifiable defensive deaths - were needless.

(Pause)

I think the worst is that it’s possible we’ll never have an opportunity to get back at these *******.

(Another pause)

Now, I should probably get back to checking in to see who’s still alive.

End log.

Ensign Adam Slattery

21601.05

Security Officer's Log

Stardate 21601.05

Ensign Adam Slattery recording

After the destruction of the Avenger, I ,along with most of the crew, was assigned TAD to Starbase Delta. After a few weeks, we were all reassigned to the Gettysburg. I'm not really sure how I feel about that considering I was onboard when her entire crew was vaporized. Of course, now that entire incident is being used as a justification for this... tension between the fleets.

Once onboard, the senior staff and some of the junior officers were called into a meeting with Captain Crawford and Captain Dawson. It was a briefing for our upcoming mission. Command thinks we all need some SERE training. In the morning we land on an uninhabited planet called Ryla. Our goal is to survive the environment and make our way to an extraction point, while avoiding squads of marines sent to track us down.

It wasn't exactly what I had in mind for my second tour, but at least we can all get away for a while.

End Log.

21601.05

Personal Log

Stardate 21601.05

Ensign Adam Slattery recording

I've still been thinking about what Mack asked me to do. I mean, I agree with him on some level... most levels, actually... but I'm still not sure that justifies doing what he's asking me to do. This whole situation sucks. This isn't what I joined Star Fleet for. I'm just going to have to figure it out myself.

End Log.

21606.28

Security Officer's Log

Stardate 21606.28

Ensign Adam Slattery recording

I'm making this recording in the event that Star Fleet or any other friendlies find this. We were part of a group of officers from the Federation starship Gettysburg sent to this uninhabited planet for survival training. Almost immediately upon arriving on the world, things started going wrong. After investigating a scream, I linked up with Lieutenants Holmes and Murphy. We discovered a standard Federation combat boot... perhaps one of the marines'.

Lieutenant Holmes was killed by a unknown sniper. I could not return fire because some kind of EM dampening field is in place and jamming our weapons. Lieutenant Murphy and I managed to escape, although barely, and only for a moment. She took a round to the arm, but I was able to patch her up.

The hostiles were right on our trail and we kept taking fire as we moved. I stayed back to try and draw the enemy away to give time for Lieutenant Murphy to escape. That's when I took a projectile round to the shoulder. I again managed to escape, but I don't know what happened to Murphy or the rest of the crew.

Part of me wonders if this is some sort of sick hunting game someone is playing. I can't use my communicator to contact anyone on the ground or the ship. My only option is to head for the extraction point and hope that the rest of the crew does the same.

End Log.

21611.26

Security Officer's Log

Stardate 21611.26

Ensign Adam Slattery recording:

We made it off that godforsaken planet. Well, most of us did anyway. Lieutenant Holmes, Ensign Moriarty, and a couple of the marines were not so lucky. After escaping my second contact with who I later learned were mercenaries sent to capture Captain Crawford, I found Corporal Maddox providing overwatch on a ridge about ten minutes from the landing zone. He informed me that he had lost contact with Captain Dawson and most of the other marines.

I scouted ahead to the landing zone to look for supplies that we could use to search for our missing crew members and extract them. Shortly after I arrived at the dropship, the EM dampening field that had been affecting our equipment was disabled. Just a few moments later, I was transported to the Voltaire​. I had not been aware of what the other away teams had been doing at the outpost, and did not find out until much later.

After a few days of rehabilitation, my arm healed just fine, and I'm fit to return to duty. The doctors say that there will be "no permanent damage" to my arm. I just hope that the same can be said for the psyche of the crew.

End Log.

Lt Jake Schwartz

21612.01

Personal Log

Stardate 21612.01

LT Jake Schwartz

(sound of ice clinking into a glass)

Well... that was a total cluster****.

Was supposed to be a simple standdown for training. A week of serious refresher on search and rescue, survival, evasion, that sort of thing, all culminating in an opposed SAREX. Great theory, really.

Aside from the group of heavily armed mercs and the energy dampener they brought to the gig.

Which got a lot of people killed, raised a lot of tempers, and we're all still feeling the effects of it.

I mean... frak.

I got dropped in alone, linked up with Commander Tucker, and we went from there. We found Jenny next, and she was... pissed. I mean, pissed pissed. I'd never seen her that mad, and when I say 'mad' I mean 'genuinely terrified of her' mad. Just... damn.

Either way, we managed to neutralize their dampening field. I was trying to take it apart, when one of the mercs managed to do it the old fashioned way - Just Shoot It. We were beamed out. I haven't heard the exact casualty count, but its not... its not good.

Sighs

Jenny's locked herself away. She's not taking my comm calls, I've tried the door every day and she's not answered... I even made one halfhearted effort to hack the lock. I don't know... I don't know if I should make a harder effort to get through to her. I want to, though... I really want to. Maybe tomorrow, after the Captain takes (another) stripe out of my hide.

Some jackwagon new engineer we picked up...well, I'll spare the details. We got into it, and she happened to have the Captain's good side. So when I called her on her massive and stupid violations of protocol rather... harshly, the Captain got into my *** too. And now I owe her an explanation for it... need to work on something better than 'I thought she was a yardbird and really needed someone to blow off steam on' when I meet with her tomorrow. Tonight... I think I'll try to get ahold of Jenny again.

End log

Lieutenant Amelia Tiran

21607.09

Tiran.. Engineering Log

Personal

Stardate 21607.09

I hate new ships.

So.. here I am unpacking the millionth box and wondering if this was the best decision. Everyone probably thinks I'm an utter b*tch.

(sigh) They're right. I am.

I know that. I am not good with people. I keep saying that I'm going to be better here. I'm going to make better friends. Maybe even find someone that can understand me. I wish sometimes that people would really give me a chance.

But, then I'd just f*ck it up anyway. That's the whole problem. The whole problem of trying to find a place to be in this world is that again.. I'm a b*tch. So either people try to save me. Or they push me way too fast.

Take ... we'll call him C... for... purposes. I tried. I did. But, seriously.. you take your girl to meet your family on the SECOND date. Throw in you have a daughter? No... no that was just too fast. I .. I don't know.

I'm probably destined to be an old .. greasy.. bitty that has cats. I hate cats. But, I'll probably have one at some point just so that I have companionship of some degree.

I don't really miss my old ship.

Which .. only means one thing. I didn't really make any friends there. I know.. it's mostly my fault. I don't make it easy. I know I don't. I guess.. I want someone to do the work it takes.

Like that's gonna happen.

I wish I could be different. I wish I could be easier. I wish people could look at me and see that I'm a normal girl hidden behind this super b*tch exterior.

OH well.. this turned into a total bummer. Sorry for anyone that has to listen to this crap when I'm old, and dead, and for training purposes for b*tchy engineers.

Blue out.

21607.20

Tiran.. Engineering Log

Personal

Stardate 21607.20

This ship is suuuuuch a sh*t hole.

Okay, that's not exactly true.

It just needs a sh*t ton of work. Hey, lucky for them they hired a workaholic before they needed all this crap done. Oh I heard there are some of this crew running around on a planet for their lives.

Some song.. comes to mind from Earth.. a 'run for the hills'.. motif.

I wonder if they would find my humor funny if I blasted that from the speakers of whatever shuttle picks them up.. oh yeah they'll be beamed back. Well that makes it easier actually, rig the speakers in the Transportation Dock to play that super old Earth song.

Bet that would make me a f*ck load of friends right off the bat.

(sound of wrapper being opened)

Sorry for whoever.. whatever loser has to listen to this sh*t later. Posterity no? Snack time, and all that.

Twinkie time.

It's a thing.

If twinkies don't survive into the future then it's likely I'm dead. I think I've found my meaning of life.

(pauses to eat half the twinkie)

I think as I jetset around the universe I should leave twinkies hidden everywhere I go. You know.. under tree root here... stuck on keyboard there.. crammed in internal compartment on that distant planet.. this way the whole universe gets to taste the awesomeness that is cream filled tiny cakes of tasty.

(pauses to finish other half)

I know I'm supposed to be profound and .. stuff on these things. Most people post about other people. Stuff they should have done, didn't do, did do.. yay medals.. some sh*t like that. I guess I'm using it as more of a personal journal. Yay future f*ckers that get to weed through all this. Though someone at Starfleet would probably decide I was the prime example of how not to be a Starfleet officer.

That's actually probably acurate.

I mean.. I don't like people.. I'm not nice.. I love my Twinkies.. and I like to work.. so I guess I'm halfsies. They would probably rather a smiling face to go along with it though.. eh smiles are earned. People give them out far too regularly and you know what? At least half of them are fake.

Is anyone really all that happy? I hear this rumor going around about some Science Chick that bounced off the walls.. apparently litterally.. and she was like everyones best friend til she transfered. I don't know how to be like that.

God.. that would suck to be like that.. happy ... all the time. That must get exhausting. Blowing smoke up people's a**es. I don't know... I guess I'll call it for today and go fix another problem. My list, I swear ,gets longer not shorter.

Blue out.

21608.24

Tiran.. Engineering Log

Personal

Stardate 21608.24

So being a prisoner sucks.

On top of that, they drop this super beaten woman on the floor of our little storage room cell thing. Expect the nurse to save her a** with some sort of field kit.

I tell you what. They are so f*cking lucky that I am not a nurse. I would have taken the closest sharp object and jammed it in an eye ball. Sure, I would have died a horrible death but they would have been blind the rest of their lives.

I know that seems idiotic but seriously, these guys were total a**hats.

Jay did awesome. I tried to help. As an Engineer, I felt really helpless. There's this bleeding chick on the ground and I have sh*t I can do about it. I hoped that I helped. A little. My a** backwards spanish seemed to help a little bit. I guess growing up in Texas did something for me afterall.

Besides nearly bake me alive.

At least, I think Jay is nice. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders and I like that he seems to see me for .. more than what is on the outside.

Well.. that's all I got this time around.

Blue out.

Lieutenant Commander Judith Tucker

21611.20

[Science Officer Log,

Stardate 21611.20

Judith Tucker recording.

Well, that was a barrel of laughs. I will always appreciate the opportunity for more training, especially when it’s on a planet that could have science implications. But…]

Judith sighed before continuing. She looked over to her son, who had fallen asleep on the couch in her office.

You’ve grown so much… Good grief, could I even do this without the people around me? Tyra alone has supported me the entire time-from you and your brother’s birth, your brother’s death, beginning school… you’re just a little man now. How did time go so quickly? And how do I leave you like the last mission?

Judith brushed a tear away from her cheek as she glanced at a photo collage of she and CJ and friends. She had a photo of she and Charlie as well, a photo of the time they’d spent at his parent’s home.

Judith reached for a tissue, blowing her nose, before continuing. CJ turned over, knocking his PADD onto the floor. Judith simply smiled while shaking her head.

Okay, let’s get this done. It would be nice to be able to get all my reports done before shore leave.

[Many of the crew, including myself, came face to face with various… things of interest. Whether it was a new type of plant life or animal life, there seemed to be plenty. I admit I personally wouldn’t mind taking another mission there. Captain Crawford and Ensign Claymore spoke of an animal I’d like to see. I myself had an experience with a tree. Its sap had a hallucination effect on me. So much I almost missed Lieutenant Schwartz. The lieutenant and I came across a large animal that had a good amount of strength.]

Judith snickered to herself as she rubbed her shoulder a moment, remembering being thrown like a doll against a nearby tree.

[I admit that this training, or so it was when we began, had opportunities for all of us to work together, as we eventually found other crew members. As I traveled and was reunited with Lieutenant Schwartz, I felt stronger. It is true, there is strength in numbers. We came across our Chief Tactical Officer, Commander Braggins, who looked like she’d been through hell. She explained how she had learned of another motive, hunting Commander Braggins and the captain. The rest of the crew were seemingly expendable, or that’s what I interpreted from what was explained. After being reunited with more crew members, most notably our captain, we traveled only a short distance before dividing up into smaller groups. I wasn’t sure of this strategy, since it seemed strength would be best in numbers, however, the captain’s experiences have led me to trust her and I kept my concerns quiet.

The two groups went their separate ways, our captain and engineer heading off in one direction and I with the new security officer, Claymore and Braggins. Commander Braggins took the lead with Claymore and I following, while being alert for an attack. As we continued into one of the buildings, Claymore and I followed a different path, eventually meeting up with someone I didn’t know. Thankfully Claymore recognized this person. I stayed with a wounded marine as the other two worked together in getting the group transported away. Thankfully, it didn’t take long as soon, Judith felt the familiar tingling of a transporter that whisked them away, to the familiar setting, the Voltaire.

Now comes the time of processing through what happened. I’m sure many of our crew members are doing this, as I. I’m hopeful for some downtime for all of us. I fear many will need time to work through what happened. I know I want to spend some time on researching the small berry-like items that provided a small amount of sustenance. I had forgotten I had a few in my pocket. Luckily I found them as we were safe.

Hopefully Captain Crawford, Commander Braggins, and others would not be effected by this negatively. The captain has had some bad luck lately, being targeted on our own ship and now this. I wonder what Star Fleet may do, if anything, for her safety…if she would even allow something different.

I will work on my scientific observations in another report.

End log.]

Lieutenant Commander Pheral Ohmsford

21601.12

Chief medical Officer's log

Stardate 21601.12

Lieutenant Commander Pheral Ohmsford recording.

My first mission - and I hesitate to even call it one - after my promotion is a Survival Exercise. While I am intrigued and excited by the prospect, I can't help but think of what will happen to my Sickbay while I am out playing games with the Marines. I have been assured that the scenario is going to be as realistic as possible. The captain has even gone so far as to make a concoction that feels like you've been actually shot when hit with it. I have been assured of its potency, but I would have liked to have studied it for any side effects. I assume it will not affect humans or the like outside of its parameters, but I will keep my opinion to myself until I can see it in action.

I hope I will get to study some of the wildlife after I make it to the drop ship. I've only brought what I carry during Red Alert: a medkit with a medical tricorder and a phaser. Zephyr Praise is the only other one who seems as excited as I am. But I fear she will forget about the training to study the plant life. Luckily she will have Ethan with her. I certainly hope I can be on that team. As much as I would like to work with the new crew mates, I think an exercise like this demands familiarity.

As for the civil war brewing with Admiral Grayson's separation from the Fleet, I have to choose a side eventually. I don't think one can remain neutral in this. Grayson has been good to me. It seems he is truly about science and exploration. But I refuse to listen to the propaganda from either side. I get the feeling like everything will be coming to a head soon. And I am wondering if this SERE training has anything to do with it.

At least I will be getting some fresh air out of it.

Computer, end log and save.