<strong>Name/Rank:</strong>LtCmdr Torstein Harms<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Deep Space 9/Promenade<br/><strong>Activity:</strong>Eating, defending the honour of the<em>U.S.S. Bellicose</em>and her captain, getting arrested<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><hr/><br/>The<em>U.S.S. Bellicose</em>was docked at Deep Space 9 out of necessity rather than desire. Her mission was to patrol the sector and engage in police action against an increase in piracy. The actions of the<em>Bellicose</em>and her crew had seen piracy decrease by a figure of 37%. The captain of the U.S.S. Bellicose was pleased with this figure, and thus, the crew was pleased as well. Captain T'Len demanded much from her crew, but to a man they loved her and they always gave the best. Much of the relatively small crew complement of the Bellicose were selected personally by T'Len, and it was known that in some cases she had pulled strings to make transfers of personnel she desired happen. As a veteran of Wolf 359, T'Len understood that sometimes the only logical solution to a problem was the swift, deliberate, and focused application of violence. Thus the necessity of the<em>Bellicose</em>docking at Deep Space 9: she was in need of repair and resupply. Her complement of torpedoes was exhausted, the power conduits for her phaser cannons needed servicing, the power cells replacing, and her hull showed deep scarring from several vicious encounters with hostile forces. But the Bellicose was a tough little ship who punched above her weight class. She started fights and she<em>finished</em>fights.<br/><br/>Torstein, the XO of the<em>Bellicose</em>, was having a working lunch with the ship's tactical officer, an Andorian male named Shrieve, and chief engineer, a human male named Tuomas Saint-Theodemir. Torstein's meal was an enormous - what some might call gluttonous - steak. It was, of course, replicated. But an actual chef had prepared it from a replicated raw state so there was some art lavished upon it. The meat was cooked to a perfect medium rare and there was a delicious crust to its exterior and a rich garlic butter had finished it. He drank water with it, forgoing a similarly lavish beverage. Shrieve elected for Andorian Fast Food, and Tuomas was eating the same based upon Shrieve's suggestion based upon the human's tastes. Tuomas seemed to be enjoying it, although much of it was a new culinary experience to him.<br/><br/>"Look here. I appreciate the value of extra armour but we'd lose 1.2% maneuvering. The increase in mass just isn't worth it." Tuomas said, shaking his head and pointing at the padd at their table.<br/><br/>Torstein chewed thoughtful. "We have maneuvering to spare. When we want to be, we are more than nimble enough. More than we can use, really - see here: when we go all out with the cannons and emitters there is not enough power from the engine to keep up peak speed and maneuvering anyway." The male countered, tapping the padd and bringing up various power readouts from the ship's logs. Tuomas looked at the figures and his face screwed up in concentration.<br/><br/>Tuomas still shook his head. "I still don't think we should go to the captain and propose up-armouring the<em>Bellicose</em>. What do you think, Shrieve?"<br/><br/>The Andorian's antennae flickered in annoyance. "I think if you can't fight your own battles you should leave me out of it." He said tersely, but tapped at the padd and cycled through to a new image. "But if you want to know what I really think this is it. Upgrades to the power conduits and the warp core. If the captain approves we can get an increase in power output of 12.7% and an increase in the efficiency of all phaser systems of 31.4%. That means more punch, less drain on engines or enough spare power to compensate, and then we could up-armour without losing any nimbleness." The Andorian looked at the two humans with a smug expression on his face. "But for the record . . . I'm always for taking it on the chin." He took a long drink from his beverage - something not quite completely analogous to Earth's soda pop but close.<br/><br/>Tuomas looked a bit glum and defeated. His head wagged from side to side and he eventually threw up his hands. "We'd need weeks to work out all of the kinks and getting these new power upgrades online and working smoothly." Then he gripped his chin thoughtfully, and the gears were turning and his mind was warming to the idea. Shrieve laughed, knowing that Tuomas was on his side now, and since his side meant more armour for the ship that meant Torstein was too, which made him the ultimate victor.<br/><br/>"Very good, Mr. Shrieve." Torstein said dryly. "I think we can bring these power upgrades to the captain. Some simulations of new systems output will be required, but if the data bears out your projections I think we have a good chance of getting her to approve." The three seemed quite pleased with their plans to modify the ship and deviate her from standard design specifications.<br/><br/>Somewhere there was a ship designer who felt a sudden stab of deep, existential agony and did not know why.<br/><br/>Across from them, another group increased the volume of their conversation in a deliberate manner, ensuring they would be overheard. The group was part of the crew of a cargo transport with suspected ties to the Orion Syndicate that could not be substantiated. At least not with any solid proof that would stand up in court. The group consisted of a pair of Nausicaans, a Romulan, and a pair of Tellarites. "Did you see that scrap heap moored by the upper pylon? What an eyesore!" One of the Tellarites exclaimed. "You ever see something so ugly?"<br/><br/>"I once had the misfortune of laying eyes upon a completely disrobed Nausicaan female." The Romulan replied with theatrical distaste. "But I still prefer the memories of that to the sight of that little scrap tug."<br/><br/>"What ship?" One of the Nausicaans asked dimly.<br/><br/>"The Belch!" The other Nausicaan answered. "The tiny garbage scow! You saw!" And smacked his fellow on the chest. The other Nausicaan got angry.<br/><br/>"I thought it was a piece of space junk!" The first Nausicaan said and was about to retaliate when one of the Tellarites stopped him.<br/><br/>Torstein, Shrieve, and Tuomas looked at one another. And they were willing to let all of this slide, although it rankled their pride to have their beloved<em>Bellicose</em>slandered in this fashion. But they also had their dignity as Starfleet officers. And the low, crass attempts of a few ruffians to goad them into violence with a few coarse words failed to elicit a rise out of them. It was especially hard for Tuomas: as the chief engineer, he had the closest relationship with the ship. The intimacy he had with the ship was uncanny and did not bear out close scrutiny if one did not wish to arrive at disturbing discoveries, as was the case with all chief engineers worth the title. Even Scotty. At least, if rumours and gossip were to be believed.<br/><br/>"It's okay - I thought it was space junk too when I saw it!" The Tellarite said, and the Nausicaan was mollified by someone smart sharing his opinion. "Y'know the worst part, though? Heard it's got a captain that's Vulcan, and female. I guess it's only 'logical' that the worst kind of captain gets the worst kind of ship!"<br/><br/>This, however, was something that none of them were willing to let stand and go unanswered. Even Shrieve, despite the past animosities of the Vulcan and Andorian peoples, loved Captain T'Len. If any of the trio were alone they would still have been compelled to act. As it was, together, their compulsion was exacerbated by the presence of fellow crew members. Not one of them wanted to be the one who failed to act or did the least in defense of their captain. Such was their love and loyalty for their commanding officer.<br/><br/>"As the captain would say: 'havoc, gentlemen.'" Torstein said, putting his utensils down and wiping his mouth on a napkin. He placed it on the table and rose as his fellow officers did the same. As one they marched over to the offending table.<br/><br/>The crew of the cargo vessel expected some sort of verbal sparring to presage the violence they were sure would not result from their insults. At least, the Tellarites and the Romulan did. There was a sort of etiquette to these things. Barbs were exchanged. Insults slung back and forth. They did not really think that members of Starfleet had the guts to really<em>do</em>anything. The Nausicaans thought it would just be more useless talking and then the Federation would walk away with hurt feelings.<br/><br/>The crew of the<em>Bellicose</em>were happy to fail to live up to their expectations. Shrieve broke out into a run and flew at one of the Tellarites feet-first, delivering a drop kick while the male was still seated. The Tellarite was thrown back and lost several teeth as both of Shrieve's feet struck him squarely in the jaw. The Romulan got to his feet while Shrieve was in the air and went for a concealed weapon, but Tuomas bodied the Romulan, taking both of them to the ground. They were rolling and grappling, with Tuomas gaining the upper hand. He moved to a mount position and began to lay into the Romulan with furious haymakers. In short order, Tuomas had green on his knuckles. Torstein was last to join the fray but determined to make up for it. He clotheslined one of the rising Nausicaans, sending him to the ground with a bone-crunching impact that staggered the Nausicaan. It was an impressive feat of physical strength because the Nausicaan was very nearly Torstein's equal in physical stature. The other Nausicaan rose and drew a large knife with an intimidating, serrated edge. At the same time, the other Tellarite rose and turned to flee as fast as his stout legs could carry him. The Nausicaan meanwhile lumbered forward and thrust, but the attack was too slow and clumsy. Torstein dodged and blocked with his forearm, quickly disarming the Nausicaan. The human grabbed the Nausicaan's lapel and drew him in close, head-butting the Nausicaan before lifting him overhead and throwing him bodily at the fleeing Tellarite. The throw was true and the Nausicaan fell in a heap on his compatriot who folded under the impact.<br/><br/>"Put up your hands and surrender!" Came the sharp, gruff bark of a Bajoran deputy. There were half a dozen of them, with Bajoran phasers at the ready. Torstein gave a grunt and raised his hands. Shrieve got up off of the Tellarite he was working on, spat on him for good measure, and then raised his hands. Tuomas gave the Romulan one last haymaker for good measure, and imitated his fellows.<br/><br/>"Get this lummox offa me!" The one Tellarite exclaimed. He was the only member of his party in full possession of his faculties: Shrieve and Tuomas's targets were well and truly unconscious, and the pair of Nausicaans were dazed and concussed.