| Crew of Deep Space 26
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| Commander Varaan
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- Rank: Commander
- Starfleet Serial Number: SE-381-568
- Station: Deep Space 26
- Position: Strategic Operations Officer
- Species: Vulcan
- Gender: Male
- Age: 71
- DoB: 233001.06
- Birthplace: Khir Ahl, Kir, Na'nam, Vulcan
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Starfleet Academy Graduate Ribbon
5-year Member
1-year Member
Nebula Bar
Department Chief Ribbon
Strange Medallion
Sarpeidon Award
Explorer's Ribbon
Lifesaving Ribbon
Captain's Commendation
First Contact Ribbon
Legion of Merit
Galactic War with the Borg Service Medal
TOSMA
Neelix Award
Phoenix Award
Purple Heart
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Starfleet Records • Medical Records • Starfleet Academy Transcript
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This SIM was written and presented on June 5, 2002, (corresponding to the IC stardate 237906.05).
((Bridge))
::The officer Varaan had spoken to turned. It was not Lieutenant Commander Cavan, as Varaan had assumed. The pips on the officer's collar clearly marked him as a lieutenant, and the deviated septum was a distinguishing characteristic. This must have been Lieutenant Nick Johnson whom Varaan had heard about but had actually never met in the month that the Paladin had been in space. Commander Cavan must have beamed down to the planet's surface with the rest of the senior staff.::
JOHNSON: You know what, take command.
::Johnson matched word to deed, stepping away from the command chair to offer it to Varaan. Surprise was not something Vulcans often experienced. It was very unsettling. But Varaan had to admit this latest turn of events did surprise him. Of course, he would only admit that to himself.::
VARAAN: Of course, sir. All repairs are well underway and should be completed within the next two hours. Any news from the Away Team?
JOHNSON: Hell's breaking loose down there. They need support. And we can't raise them. Comm, any luck?
COMM: Negative sir, nothing but static. It's like that place is across the galaxy.
::As he left the bridge, Johnson called the hangar deck and told them to prepare the FA-150 gunboats for immediate launch. Ensign Tval followed closely on Johnson's heels.::
::Varaan strode purposefully over to the captain's chair. As he lowered himself into it he began to think about what the communications officer had said. oO "It's like that place is across the galaxy." Uri's race is apparently able to manipulate the space-time continuum in such a way as to modify stellar distances. Perhaps they are somehow altering the region around the planet in such a way now, and in doing so disrupting our communications. Oo He felt as if he was missing something, however.::
::The hangar bay contacted the bridge for clearance. Johnson and Tval's teams were ready to go. A quick scan of space around the Paladin showed no immediate obstructions, and the proposed flight plans were approved. Varaan nodded to the Ops officer and she transmitted clearance to the hangars. The FA-150's launched, screaming down to the surface.::
VARAAN: =^= All stations, all divisions. This is the bridge. I want status reports in five minutes. Varaan out. =^= Helm, verify a geosynchronous orbit around the planet. I want to make sure we stay directly above the Away Team. Tactical, coordinate with the Science department on all sensor palettes. I want you scanning for anything that has any possibility of being a threat, to us or on the planet.
::It was then the next wave of pain mentally hit Varaan. Everyone on the bridge was busy with his or her work, busy enough to not be looking at Varaan. He was able to mask the pain better this time. His eyes closed and his fists clenched the armrests of the chair. Again, the pain passed in a matter of seconds. When it had gone, though, Varaan had an idea.::
VARAAN: Communications, are we still receiving nothing from the Away Team?
COMM: No, sir. Nothing coming in and nothing going out. Static both ways.
VARAAN: Do we still have them on sensors?
COMM: Yes sir. We still have a lock on their comm badges. We can plot their movements, we just can't talk to them.
VARAAN: =^= Varaan to transporter room 3. Do you still have a lock on the Away Team?
CHIEF: =^= Only intermittently. The signals fade in and out at irregular intervals. One moment they're as clear as a bell, the next I've lost them completely.
::Varaan rose from the seat and strode over to the Ops station. Working with the officer there looking over his shoulder, he continued his thoughts.::
VARAAN: =^= I'm reallocating the dorsal sensor palettes to the transporter and communications systems. We still have sensor contact with the Away Team. Try to piggyback your transporter lock on the dorsal sensors. Keep me apprised.
CHIEF: =^= Aye, sir. =^=
VARAAN: Communications, try matching your subspace frequency to the dorsal sensors, narrow the band and boost the gain. You may be able to cut through the static just enough to contact the captain.
COMM: Yes, sir.
::Varaan returned to the command chair. He had tried similar modifications during his time with Vulcan Intelligence. But he was an engineer, not a scientist. Every situation was different and needed tweaking. Jamar would been a great asset here on the bridge, but he was down below with the others. Varaan was doing all he could. He could only hope that something worked, and that the Away Team would return safely. Not that he minded the "big chair," but it was not his to have. It belonged to another. The chain of command was a long one, and well laid out.::
COMM: Sir, I think I might be able to get something through. There will be plenty of static, but something has to be better than nothing.
VARAAN: Understood. =^= Paladin to Away Team. Please advise on your situation. FA-150's en route for support. Please respond. =^= Crewman, please repeat the message until we get a response. Helm, prepare to go to a lower orbit if necessary.
