CTO Lieutenant JG Manuel Gist

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Postby Simon Mansell » Tue Jun 30, 2015 11:42 pm

Gist closed the bathroom cabinet door, bringing its mirror about to show his face in the reflection. The medics had done there job just a bit too well, they'd removed his signature burn mark from his nose, probably thinking it was a result of the damnable bridge imploding. If he'd been conscious at the time, he'd have given them a piece of his mind. But it was down in the heat of the moment and in good intentions, so Manuel could hardly complain.

Much.

He moved a hand through his unkempt hair before stroked his beard. The Captain said they were due for some shore leave and he wanted to keep down on the "evil hobo" look as Snape was fond of describing him behind his back. He hadn't set foot on a planet since he was transferred to the Sentinel, and to put it bluntly, Gist was tired of walls.

Manuel walked into the main room of his quarters and began to pick up his luggage cases that were strewn about on furniture. Years ago, he'd been friends with a guy that used what he called, A "transporter buffer" similar to a pattern buffer except it was able to keep inanimate objects in without the pattern degrading. It'd be handy when dealing with so many suitcases, he thought, but Oviedo probably wouldn't let him-

No. Gist was thinking back to those days enough as it was with that MACO hounding him, he'd keep the reminiscing on a back burner, too many regrets to dwell on without thinking of those days. Manuel would do as he always did; Keep his mind bus, and a pleasant resort planet would be just the place for it.

As Gist walked out of his quarters, he pondered if his crewmates would appreciate a little historical expedition while they were there...
Last edited by Simon Mansell on Sun Jan 17, 2016 7:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: TAC officer's log Manuel Gist

Postby James Greenman » Tue Jun 30, 2015 11:51 pm

Great log, Simon! Looking forward to seeing everyone on shore leave, it'll be fun to find out what everyone does for, well, fun. :V
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Re: TAC officer's log Manuel Gist

Postby Simon Mansell » Tue Sep 15, 2015 3:42 am

“Careful with that!” Gist shouted across the armory at the MACO carrying a large crate precariously. Manuel threw out his hand and caught a corner before it came toppling to the ground.

“Why,” The MACO said in a gruff voice while righting himself, “did you have take all this, on a bloody vacation?”

“I like to be prepared,” Gist replied briskly while steadying the crate. It hadn’t exactly been his want to come to “The Pleasure Planet” armed for war, more so his nature. He’d lived through too many scrapes to not come to a foreign environment unprepared.

But as usual, he had over prepared. It had gone smoothly other then an issue when they were leaving, a puzzling thing that, something that Gist was still wondering about. The Captain seemed content to not pursue it, but something about it was… unsettling. But then again, it might just be his angst against Starfleet procedure. Heck, he was ready to draw a knife on that transport if things got ugly. Perhaps he was being a bit too… uptight. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Gist paused, staring at the pad for a long while.

“You okay? You seem to be phased out.” the MACO asked, having set the crate down.

Manuel blinked, looking up from the pad. “What? Oh, sorry, finish straightening up for me will you?” he said while tossing the pad to the MACO officer. Not waiting to here his protest, Gist left the armory with a dark expression on his face.

Finally arriving at his quarters, Gist opened the door and sat at his jumbled desk. He sat still for a moment, stroking his beard and staring at the computer screen, before tapping a button on his computer.

“Tactical officer’s private log, I have decided to investigate the happenings when I and my fellow crewmembers were subjected too while we were shuttled back to our vessel. I do not know where to start, nor do I pretend to know the consequences that this inquest might bring. I only know that this seems… wrong, somehow. I will start by sending an inquiry to Starfleet command, and if that does not yield results I shall try other methods. I don’t know if I should share this with my fellow crewmembers, they are...” Gist paused for a moment, biting his lower lip, “…Starfleet, and I do not think they would take this the right way.”

”Manuel Gist, signing off.”

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Re: TAC officer's log Manuel Gist

Postby James Greenman » Mon Nov 16, 2015 4:57 pm

Loving the log, Simon. Let me know if you want some insider information for the next one :getin:
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Re: TAC officer's log Manuel Gist

Postby Simon Mansell » Mon Jan 25, 2016 1:42 am

The cylindrical target exploded, sending a cascade of sparks into the black nothingness. Gist lowered his compression phaser rifle, resting on the metal railing that surrounded the platform he was on. Live fire practice in the holodeck felt somewhat stale to him, so he'd always load up a simple target practice program. A simple platform in a black void, a few moving targets, and nothing to distract you from your own thoughts. Which was exactly what Gist needed. Something about this mission didn't sit right with him. This Walsh didn't seem like a person that would just throw away a spotless career on the drop of a hat.

Manuel took another shot, this time missing by a few inches. He cursed under his breath, and eagerly destroyed the next target to appear. Maybe this mission was too close to him. Renald was a veteran of both the Dominion and Tzenkethi wars, like Gist, and he had gone rogue, like Gist. Could this man justify his actions? Or perhaps, was his reason the same as Gist's? The thought of it made him uncomfortable.

His next attempt barely clipped the target. It still exploded, but that didn't stop Gist from being dissatisfied with himself for his low accuracy. Should he even be thinking these things? He gotten back in the game and promised himself put all that behind him. Yet here he was, trying to sympathize with someone who very well might try to kill him and his fellow crewmen. The Captain needed a tactical officer that wouldn't hesitate when he felt for the person trying to blow them to kingdom come. He stopped for a moment, staring blankly at the target go on its predetermined path around him. The fear of him becoming the "model soldier" willing to do complete any order given to him was the reason he left.

He thought back to when his environmental suit had been compromised on that barren planet, when he had told Hamlet and Sarissa to leave him. There wasn't much of a chance of getting out of there alive and Hamlet had taken a shot to the leg. Leaving him there was the most tactically sound decision, what the model officer would have done. What he wouldn't do was risk life, limb, and the mission for one man. Those were the actions of a friend.

When he went on that bridge, he wouldn't be going out there as just a TAC officer or just a soldier. Because when you got right down to it, what they really needed was a human being at the TAC station. Not somebody whose actions would be dictated by logic and regulations, nor loyalty to the Federation. They needed someone who'd fight because he cared about his crew with every ounce of his being. And whatever happened, that was all that mattered

He fired again, hitting the target dead on. Satisfied, he smiled to himself. "Computer," he said softly, "end program."
Last edited by Simon Mansell on Thu Jan 28, 2016 10:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: CTO Lieutenant JG Manuel Gist

Postby James Greenman » Tue Jan 26, 2016 2:51 pm

I absolutely love your logs, Simon. There's so much depth to Gist and his motivations, every time I read one I get a little more insight into his character. Beautifully done!

I also changed the title on your thread to reflect your promotion. Congrats, Chief Tactical Officer. :)
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Re: CTO Lieutenant JG Manuel Gist

Postby Simon Mansell » Mon Feb 29, 2016 9:55 pm

Gist entered sickbay with a PADD under his arm, and a look of purpose in his eyes. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with the Walsh situation. Not that he wanted to string him up, but after getting shot at he wasn’t taking any chances. Years ago, Voyager had taken on a Kazon prisoner and confined him to temporary quarters. They assumed, that he wouldn’t be able to do anything harmful while incarcerated.

He then used organic explosives to blow a good chunk out of the ship.

Manuel wasn’t about to let the same thing happen on his watch, so he was taking some precautions. He wanted to look over the medical readouts and have deeper scans performed, if they hadn’t been already. Unfortunately, this meant getting the collaboration of the Doctor, and if there was one thing he learned on the Sentinel, it was she didn’t like tactical business in her sickbay.

Sarissa looked up as she heard the hiss of the Sickbay door. At least the person walking in was uninjured, that was certainly a relief. Wait… oh, that’s who it was.

“Mister Gist,” she called out, “What can I do for you?”

“Well, at the moment,” Gist said while taking the PADD from under his arm and extending it towards Sarissa, “I’d like to have all the data you’ve collected on the prisoner, and check on the security in here.”

Sarissa nodded and accepted the PADD, taking a brief moment to check over the collected data before transferring it.

“I think you’ll find that security is just fine here. Besides, he’s sedated, what could he do? It’s not like he can get up and walk around anyway, he’d have to get past quite a lot of sedatives.”

Walsh lay between them, motionless on the biobed and under heavy sedation. His face looked blank in his state state, but his unconscious mind was a warzone of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Two personalities fought for dominance, the Romulan officer from those decades past, who’d been receiving orders from the Tal Shiar for years and the upstanding, decorated Starfleet Captain who had unknowingly carried out those orders. Inside his mind, a titanic struggle for dominance raged. His eyelid twitched slightly, the only outward sign of his nightmares.

“Ah, Starfleet security standards, not mine,” Gist replied in a half joking manner, “don’t worry, your sickbay, your rules. I’ve learned my lesson.” He turned towards the blank face of Walsh, pondering as to what was going on in his twisted mind. “Has he been conscious since he was beamed over?”

“Well, there was one time during the battle with the Romulan ship that he almost regained consciousness, but he was sedated again before he could. Although… his brain wave scans indicate some form of consciousness in his subconscious,” Sarissa stated, pausing for a moment to wonder what could be causing the levels of activity that were being detected.

Gist blinked, trying to wrap his head around what she had just said. “So, his consciousness in his subconscious is still going even though he’s unconscious… right.” He looked over the PADD, mulling over the information. Manuel turned back towards Walsh’s blank face, saying in a thoughtful tone, “Seems… sick, y’know?”

“I was involved in my fair share of espionage during the war with the Dominion, and I did a lot I wasn’t proud of. But this…” He stopped speaking, trying to think of words for his thoughts.

“This? This is a Tal Shiar trademark gone wrong. The kind of damage done here, it doesn’t seem accidental. It’s like they either let an amateur do the work, or they had him on some sort of timer. Either way, his mind is fractured and most likely, the two personas are fighting for dominance,” she began, and then shrugged, “He would have to be awake for me to get a better analysis.”

“I wonder what will happen to him when we give him to Starfleet…” Gist shook his head, trying to shrug off the discomforting thoughts. “If he wakes up, or if his does anything irregular, don’t hesitate to call on me.”

Sarissa noted that this was a good a time as any to voice that insane idea that had suddenly appeared. Not that it was a good idea, but it was an idea.

“You know, like I said, he would have to be awake for me to get a better analysis of his mental state. And since you’re already here… perhaps now would be a good time to have a chat with Mister Walsh?”

Gist crossed his arms, his brow knitted in thought. The idea had merit, though he would prefer it being done in a more controlled environment such as the brig. But as he expected the doctor would not take kindly to that idea and considering he’d be right there if anything did happen, Manuel decided that it would be fine, at least in this instance.

“Okay,” he said slowly.

Sarissa grinned, “Perfect!”

Picking up a hypospray nearby, she loaded it with a cartridge and set it aside for a moment before setting up a scan that would monitor Walsh’s brainwave readings and his physiological readings. The final step before actually waking him up was to make sure that there was a hypo ready to put him back to sleep if he got too excited or if he became violent. With a quick glance at Gist, she placed the hypo of stimulant against Walsh’s arm and pressed the trigger that would inject the drug into his system.

It only took a moment for the stimulant to wash through Walsh’s system, his eyes opening slowly under the glare of the Sickbay lights. A quiet groan passed his lips as he tried to sit up and found his body weak, opting instead to look around, straining his neck left and right while his blurry vision gradually cleared up.

“Wh-where am I? Who... are you?”, he spoke with the rough, hoarse voice of someone who’s been asleep for a couple of days.

Sarissa placed a hand on Walsh’s shoulder, pushing him back down.

“You’re on the USS Sentinel, in Sickbay. I’m Doctor Sarissa, the chief medical officer. Do you remember what happened before, on the experimental ship that you stole?”

“Experimental? Ship? I…” Walsh’s eye widen as his vision finally comes into focus, spotting the telltale lift to her brows and the pointed ears, gritting his teeth and pushing his arms up with a burst of adrenaline.

“No! You’re not going to take me again, no!”, He flails at Sarissa from his position on the bed, his terror giving him strength.

Gist grabbed Walsh by the shoulder and pushed him back down against the bed while asking the doctor in an exasperated tone, “Do you need to sedate him?”

“Wait,” Sarissa said, before putting a hand on Walsh’s shoulder, making sure to give a calming presence.

“Mister Walsh, we are not here to harm you. I am not Tal Shiar, if that is your concern. But for your safety, I ask that you please calm down and relax. I don’t want to have to sedate you, but I will. Understood?”

Walsh continued to scrabble against Gist’s grip for a moment, his eyes wide and terrifying, his chest heaving under laboured breaths while looking around in panic. Eventually he calmed down, almost seeming to try and curl up and turn invisible against the bed like a cornered animal, looking between the two people above him, finally recognising the uniforms. He nodded, but said nothing.

Sarissa nodded approvingly, “Now, I’ll revise my question. Do you know how you got here?”

He shook his head slowly, “I remember...the bridge? Someone there.” Walsh turns to look at Gist, tilting his head slightly, his chest still rising and falling with each laboured breath.

“You were there. Something happened? I…” He shook his head once more, seeming lost.

Gist nodded slowly, and said, choosing his words carefully, “I was there, you were… uncooperative, remember?”

Walsh reached out and grabbed Gist’s forearm, gripping it tightly as he stared up at the man, his eyes wide with barely contained panic.

“In...my head. They….He is in there. I can’t stop it, I can’t stop listening….please, you have to make it stop! Make it STOP!” His last word came out as a sobbing shout, terror welling up in his eyes again.

Manuel instinctively moved his hand to grab Walsh’s. He was unsure as how to react to his pleading sobs, looking between Sarissa and Walsh’s pained face.

Sarissa winced, his emotional output was stronger than she had expected. But, at the same time, it was understandable.

“Hey, breathe, okay? Breathe and relax. No one can hurt you, you’re safe here, alright? Now, who is this other person?”

Walsh took a few deep breaths before answering, his head swaying, his eyes rolling back in his head slightly before his gaze fell squarely onto the Doctor. A shift in his demeanour was immediate, his breathing slowed and his face relaxed, a single blink was all it took for his eyes to go from terrorised to calm.

“That would be me, Doctor Sarissa. Jomala, First Lieutenant of the Tal Shiar. A pleasure, I’m sure, I would offer to shake your hand but it appears…” Walsh glanced upwards, eyes flicking between Gist’s face and his hands, “...indisposed.”

Gist gave a drawn-out nod to Walsh, or rather Jomala. “It's my job, I am Lieutenant Gist of the Federation” he said with a degree of forced tact in his voice, “Now, you probably know where this is going so I would suggest you tell me ‘your’ job.”

Sarissa narrowed her eyes and tried to get an empathic read, but got a lot of… calm. Odd, considering that this was a Tal Shiar agent in a Starfleet sickbay.

“Lieutenant, I think I can tell you his job. My guess is that he is a deep-cover operative in the way that the Tal Shiar seems to love, with a identity crafted so he can be buried beneath it and surgically altered before being sent off to complete his embedded mission,” she stated plainly, trying and failing to keep the scorn out of her voice.

Gist turned towards Sarissa with an eyebrow raised. Turning back towards the captive, he said, keeping his voice even, “Is she correct?”

Walsh/Jomala looked between the two with a quiet smile on his lips, nodding. “Quite. It was revolutionary at the time. A full genetic workup, Federation technology at the time wouldn’t be able to distinguish me from a real human even with the most advanced scans. These days, however…”

He shrugged, cheeky guilt flashing across his face. “Typically Starfleet don’t need to do genetic scans on distinguished Captains, at least until they go insane and steal...haha - or should I say, reclaim - ...an advanced ship. It seems like the recombination process has left me somewhat in two minds.”

“Now, however, I would like to speak to your Captain if you would be so kind as to fetch them.” Despite being held down to a Biobed, he spoke with a surprisingly calm and level tone, fully expecting his orders followed as if the rank pips on his collar still meant something.

“Ah, now I understand.” Gist said with a grin. His grip tightened on Jomala’s shoulder, but neither his face or his body language betrayed any heightened hostility towards his prisoner “Your superiors must have considered you a very, very unimportant asset if they left you, and I’m guessing the Captain doesn’t have time right now to deal with such a lowly prisoner.”

Gist’s victim showed no outward sign of pain, training his features to remain loose and calm, smiling up at the Starfleet officer without saying a single word.

Gist began to twist the prisoner’s arm, his smile betraying just a little too much enjoyment in doing so, “Though, she may find the time. In which case I suggest keeping yourself presentable and not doing anything drastic that might, say, bruise or break a few bones.” He let go of Jomala’s arm, and moved towards the door.

“Oh,” he said over his shoulder, “don’t anger the good doctor, she can be... mean sometimes.”

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Re: CTO Lieutenant JG Manuel Gist

Postby James Greenman » Mon Feb 29, 2016 11:09 pm

That was thoroughly enjoyable to write, thanks for inviting me!

And a smashing read, too, even if I so say so myself :toot:
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Re: CTO Lieutenant JG Manuel Gist

Postby Simon Mansell » Wed Jun 01, 2016 1:02 am

“Manuel Gist” the computer said in its customary monotone before opening the door into Gist quarters. The Sentinel's tactical officer staggered in, collapsing onto the bed on his side. He stared unblinking at the close wall, exaimining every inch of it as if it was of some great importence. He was supposed to be in sickbay at that moment. He'd gotten the Captain's permission to have the nasty gash on the side of his head looked at in the sickbay and it had been his intention to go there. But for some reason, Gist had decided to go to his quarters instead. To rest perhaps, he knew he needed it.

Since he'd been stationed on the Sentinel, he'd suffered several injuries. First, it was his leg, shot to pieces by a Tzenthei disrupter. Then, it was a collapsed lung, attained during the T'kon incident. And now it was something that he guessed was a minor concussion. And somehow, someway, he didn't feel a thing. Not pain, he felt quite a lot of that, but actual, emotional feeling. He wasn't concerned that it might be something very serious. He wasn't happy about the fact that they just contained a disease that could've wiped out a planet. And he wasn't even feeling angry at the Empire for poisoning their own species and watching them suffer like lab rats. It had become impersonal, just another part of the job along with sleeper agents, murderers stalking the halls, and giant lizards with an ego problem. He wanted to feel outrage, anger, gaiety, something, but he'd been dulled to it.

He reached up to touched the left side of his face, touching the bridge of his nose in the process. He stopped, thinking for a moment that something was wrong before remember his scar had been healed after Sigma Rho. A funny thing that scar, he'd grown attached to it somehow during the years. That would seem somewhat odd to his crew mates, he thought. Trying to keep a reminder of pain once suffered. But to him. It was more then that.

The moment he'd gotten that mark was the moment he'd lost his innocence, so to speak. He'd kept his naivety about the galacy through the academy, his training, and the grueling months preparing him for espienoge work with the Breen Confederacy. Then came that mission, that infernal mission. Every ounce of his being had gone against completing it but he still did it. And as he did the deed, his belief in the Federation ideals left him like blood from a lesion. He fell into a deep depression as he distanced himself from his own humanity. But he came back. After so long, after all that anger, after promising himself he wouldn't, he came back.

Gist turned and sat up slowly, looking at his quarters and the momentous of his past life. Time heals all wounds, he thought, even though he didn't fully believe it himself. But it would have to do, at least for the time being. One day, he'd have to confront with those scars sometime in the future. And no matter what he did to stop that from happening, he was only delaying the inevitable Gist shook his head, casting aside his thoughts on his grim situation. He walked out of his quarters and back towards sickbay. He needed to go there after all, as the wound had begun to bleed.

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Re: CTO Lieutenant JG Manuel Gist

Postby Vanessa Brinkman » Wed Jun 01, 2016 1:12 am

Good, good. The detour was not long. That could have been a very unfortunate situation for folks... hehehe
SCI Lt. T'Lira, USS Atlantis
CMO Lt. Sarissa t'Kaveth, USS Sentinel
CTO Lt. Noemi Idaris, Sigma Rho

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