Join Date: Jun 2012
Posts: 782
"K'eiva, I found her."

Commander K?eiva sighed slightly and put down her fork as she stared over to the entry door of the mess hall. Tovan was a great first officer, and a great friend, but at times he could get a bit annoying. "Who did you find?"

Tovan dashed in front of K'eiva?s table. "My sister, Rinna, I found her."


"I can't believe she was here all this time," Tovan said as they walked down a newly constructed street in the equally newly constructed city on mol?Rehan. It was so new that neither the city nor the street had any names.

"I know, you've only said it twenty times, not counting how much you were talking about it when we beamed down."

Tovan gave a crooked grin, "Sorry Commander. It's just been so long."

K'eiva sighed and blinked her eyes behind the headgear she wore to protect herself from the afternoon sun. "I know, sorry."

Tovan waved it off. "Here we are, this is it," he said pointing to a door with ivy planted around it. Hardly waiting, he dashed up and knocked at the door. When it opened, he took one look at the woman who opened it, and then flung his arms around her. "Rinna, thank the Elements."

The woman looked at K'eiva with a mixture of surprise and astonishment, an expression K'eiva was familiar with finding in the mirror, given her crew.

After a few more seconds of stunned inaction, Rinna pushed Tovan off. "All right, I don't know what kind of trick this is, but it's not funny. You're not my brother, so get out before I call the watch."

K'eiva stepped forward, before Tovar could get over his shock. "I am sorry, I am Commander K'eiva, Republic Fleet. Are you Rinna Khev?"


"And you do have a brother?"

"Yes, but I know this isn't him, thought whatever work he got done on him isn't bad."

"Work?" K'eiva tilted her head in confusion. "Sorry, but how are you sure?"

"Simple," Rinna replied, and pointed behind her at two people approaching the scene. "I know because that is my brother."

K'eiva stared past Rinna at another man who looked a great deal like Tovan. Tovan, in the meantime, had shifted his attention from his "not-sister" to the other man, and K'eiva knew from long experience that he was building up to a boil. Strangely enough, the other man looked to be doing the same.

K'eiva glanced at the last figure, a Romulan woman, wearing Romulan Republic fleet issue, and Admiral's rank. She saluted, old style, fist to chest. "Admiral."

The Romulan returned the gesture. "Commander. I'm Admiral T'ember."

"Commander K'eiva."

"Do you know what is going on here?"

K'eiva shrugged. "Tovan here was going to visit his sister, he finally found her in a database search."

T'ember smirked slightly. "Strange, Tovan there was catching up with her now that things are settling down. We found her at Installation 18."

"So, your science officer, or mine?"

"Oh, mine, if you don't mind. She's been complaining about not having enough to do in dock."

"Fine with me."

Satal looked up from her readings and then over at the two Tovan's sharing a bio bed, while Rinna looked at them from across the room. T'ember and K'eiva looked up at the movement.

"Well?" asked T'ember.

"Well, that was interesting." Satal pointed at K?eiva. "Commander, your Tovan is a very very very good copy of our Tovan. I think."

"A copy?" the two Tovan's echoed, one surprised, one incredulous.

"Maybe a bit more detail?" asked T'ember again.

Satal nodded. "Sure. Our Tovan seems to be the real one. I can find no traces in his body that he is a clone, copy, transporter duplicate, or anything else. Also a computer search can account for his travels within a reasonable amount of accuracy." She paused. "The Commander's Tovan, on the other hand, has a very very slight sign of cloning, but not of a type I have heard about before. It bears some hallmarks of Elachi technology, but not all of them."

"Are you saying I'm some sort of Elachi plant?" one of the Tovan?s asked. The other looked suspiciously at him.

"I don't believe so. I can find no sign of conditioning, or any anomalous brain readings. In fact, both of your brain wave patterns are almost the same. Any differences have occurred from your different life experiences, after a certain point."

K'eiva frowned. "What do you mean, a certain point?"

Satal gestured. "I conducted interviews with both Tovan's, as you know. Their stories of their lives match perfectly, up to a certain point, a shuttle ride. Our Tovan, who met the Admiral on Virinat, ended that shuttle ride on Virinat. Your Tovan, Commander, ended that ride on a deep space colony near Nimbus. She turned to the Tovan's. ?Do you remember anything about that shuttle ride?"

"Most boring trip I ever had," they stereo-ed.

Satal nodded. "I did some more checking, looking for other passengers of that shuttle. Every one of them had the same story. I believe that during that shuttle ride, some being, for some reason, abducted Tovan, and created copies of him, who were then dispersed around the sector."

T'ember nodded, then stopped. "Wait, you said copies? There is more than these two?"

Satal nodded. "Oh yes. When I found the shuttle flight records, I checked for any anomalies. There were over 300 shuttle flights that arrived on various stations, planets, colonies, and other destinations which did not originate anywhere. Of course, some of these might be smugglers, spies, and others who did not file a flight plan. I then checked the Republic records. Given all of our problems, they are not the most accurate source, but I managed to find at least 100 other Tovan Khev's serving somewhere in the Romulan Republic, who?s DNA and other identifiers match with these Tovan Khev's perfectly. There were several hundred other records who looked similar, but whose files did not include identification markers."

The rest of the room stared at Satal in shock. T'ember recovered first. "But why?"

Rinna chimed in, "And why my brother?"

Satal shrugged. "I don't know. I alerted security, and their experts cleared our two Tovan's here based on the brain scans I had. They will be working through the rest of them, but I do not think they will find any threat. As an infiltration scheme goes, it is a very bad one. Sooner or later, one of you would meet another one of you."

"What should we do then?" Rinna asked. K'eiva noted she was looking at both Tovan's with a mix of love and pity, and K'eiva thought she understood why.

"I am sorry, I'm a doctor, but not one who could help you with this."

Rinna nodded, then squared her shoulders and marched up to the two Tovan?s. "Well, this one has been spoiling me for a bit," she pointed at one Tovan, "so I guess it's your turn. Come on you two."

Rather bemused looking, the two Tovan's followed "their" sister out of the medical ward.

"Well," said K'eiva, "that was strange."

"I don't know," commented T'ember, "the way my life goes, it's almost normal."

"So, does your Tovan hold his ale any better than mine?"

"Probably not, and his singing voice isn't any better either I'll bet."

"Thanks Satal," T'ember said as the two officers walked out of the med bay. Satal waved casually in reply.

"So commander," added T'ember as they walked the hallways of central command, "I looked you up while we were waiting. An impressive record, and I would thank you, personally, for the action at Brea."

K'eiva tensed. "Not everyone would think so. Some of our allies and D'Tan would have liked Hakive to stand trial."

"Some people didn?t see Hakeve blow away half the people they lived with."

The two shared an understanding glance.

"Speaking of such, I also understand that you are waiting on a new ship to command."

"Yes Admiral," K'eiva replied, sinking back into formality.

T'ember nodded in acknowledgement of the shift. "I'm working up a small roving command with D'Tan's permission, with orders to seek out trouble and deal with it. I understand you have some Klingon contacts among our allies?"

K'eiva nodded.

"I hope to have the same soon among the Federation. Between the members of this command, I hope that we will have at least one commander and crew who will be welcomed by friends, or able to pursue our foes where ever they may hide." She smirked slightly at K'eiva. "You understand my meaning?"

"Yes Admiral," she replied.

"If you wish, I can get you a command under me, a sister ship to my own flag. Would you be interested?"

"Yes," K'eiva couldn?t really help the squeak her voice came out in, and she blushed as T'ember smiled slightly.

"Well then, report tomorrow morning to space dock three, and I'll meet you there to show you your new ship. It's still in the building stage, so it's a good time if you want to make any changes."

K'eiva let the grin show on her face. "I'm an engineer by trade, you don't have to ask." She paused, then went on slower. "But, why are you offering this to me? We just met."

"Well, I have seen your record, and I like what I saw, but there is another reason." T'ember smiled. "This way, I can keep bothering my Tovan with yours."

K'eiva giggled, and blushed again when she saw T'ember smile. She hated it when people saw her giggle, but at least T'ember, that is, the Admiral, wasn't teasing her about it. "You're not worried about it then?" she asked, trying to get back under proper military decorum.

"No. Not the weirdest thing I've seen. There was this one day in the Azura Nebula looking for an anomaly, now that was weird." The two officers walked off, talking shop.

In a remote corner of subspace, a hooded figure clicked to himself. The Elachi had taken everything from his race. Their technology, their space, their pride, their hope. Well, maybe not all of their hope. Ever since first contact with the strangely intelligent aliens and the release of the probe into their space, he had followed their doings with interest. He even believed that they were just as intelligent as his race, something the others had still doubted. Of course, there weren?t that many to doubt any more, since the Elachi. But yes, he believed in them, which was why he had taken a few unauthorized samples when the Elachi were driving them back. Not even taken, just borrowed for a time, and then replaced. Along with adding a few extras. His instruments had told him these ones, these "Romulans" as the lifeforms referred to them, were tied with the Elachi, and he had chosen well. His creations, "children" another alien concept, had opposed the Elachi as he had thought they would. His race may be dying, may be dead, but they would be avenged. Which left him one strange question to while away his existence. He waved and light slowly filled the room he was in, revealing rows upon rows of tubes, each with a single figure in it. What to do with the spares?
Joined September 2011
Nouveau riche LTS member

Last edited by malkarris; 07-09-2013 at 10:53 AM. Reason: changing ?'s to " and minor character speach fix.
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Sep 2012
Posts: 157
Utopia Planitia
"Earth date November 27 2385. Many people say that I'm weird using the old earth calendar instead of star date. But I grew up using both and begun to appreciate the old calendar more, since this is a personal log to begin with I don't see why not. Val can't wait tell tomorrow, It's finally the day, Were going to test out the History. Cherry can't quit smiling; we've been working on this ship for nearly five years now. Truth be told, I wish we could push it back. I don't think she read, there is a lot of experimental tech on her, and the design itself is experimental. Nelve says I'm warring too much and being over protective of our ship" (He sighs) "my ship."


Historical bays on the USS.History, going past holograms of historical captains and important people, Admiral Archer, Admiral Kirk, Captain Picard, ect. Leading two to holograms that looked exactly alike.
"I can't tell the difference." Commander Nathanial Parker couldn't laugh when he saw these two together, "So what brings you here, Doc."
Voyagers EMH MK 1 gave the commander a dry look, which quickly turned into a worm smile ?It doesn?t rally catch my rugged handsomeness. How have you been since your last visit to the fleet?? He asked all of a sudden.
Nathanial Shook his head "You know I don't like delivering ships to the fleet. I have to stay there a few weeks with the new crew, testing new systems and getting the crew adjusted to the new ship." Once again the commander sighed "So you're asking how I been, I'm dreading this moment, my stomach is in cramps and I'm not sleeping well."
"I could look into that if you want?"
"No thank you, Doc. What are you doing here anyways?"
The Doctor looks away out the window "That's why" he pointed out the Window to the USS.Glen under just a few kilometers away in a dry dock. As far as Nathanial could tell it was either undergoing repairs or a complete refit
"It's that time already?"
The Doctor gave him another dry look, "you know very well that all the ships in the fleet needs a refit by now."
"I guess that's true."
"More importantly Nate, I thought you would be happier, your dream finally being realized."
Nathanial scuffs his feet on the relatively new deck plating, "I am happy. Then I think that in a months' time I'll be handing her over to Captain Paris, with the best helmsman in Starfleet" he sighs again "I just don't know."
The Doctor steps over to Nathanial and pats him on the Back. "Don't worry Tom will take care of her, if something happens I'll make sure he pays, and if I don't B'Elanna will."
Silence stretches out between them as they look out the window at the ships being built or refitted. There were everything from the new experimental Emissary class ships to nova class's being refitted to the Rhode Island class specifications.
Finally the Doctor looked over at Nathanial, "Now that that's settled up for some gulf tomorrow?"
The Commander smiled despite himself "Love to, but can't." the doctor looked a bit disappointed, but before he could say anything Nathaniel continued "Admirals orders, History's going for three day test flight tomorrow, but when I get back."
"And Reg was looking forward to it to." The Doctor started walking to the door, "You must be busy then, I shouldn't keep you any longer," Waved back as he walked out "I'll see you in three days then"
After a few moments Nathanial fallows him out the door but makes way to the turbo lift. "deck four"
The turbolift wines as it starts to move up to deck four. Nathaniel quietly leaves walking a short distance to a door and enters into his temporary quarters. The light is on but he ignores it, he was certain that he had them off when he left, but he could already guess who was there.
Suddenly a voice comes out of nowhere, "You know Nat, it wouldn't hurt to spruce the place up a bit."
Nathanial Parker moved over to his table and sat down with a pad in his hand before replying sarcastically "and it wouldn't hurt to ask before entering someone's room. I thought you were razed better than that?
"I was, but we've shared everything since the academy, why stop now."
Commander Minami Negox, the half Xindi came out of the refreshsure, Hair wet and her uniform hanging loosely on her body. Nathanial looked up long enough to gave her a look that said give him another story
"If you didn't put a shower in all the officer quarters, and then lock said quarters all except for one, it's the only place outside of earth that I can get a shower."
Minami moved and sat across from him, "I don't know why you never decorate the quarters you keep on the ships you build, you've live on the History for what six months now, since the Environmental controls have been installed."
"Five months twenty-six hours, give or take half an hour."
"You're still upset about having to give her up." She didn't wait for a reply "You should be happy about this, I remember you talking about the History Design back at the academy, and you always loved this ship, every aspect of it. Nelve still tells me about your time on the Luna, and you always talking about it. so don't give me that impartial look you always give."
Nathanial reached over and put his hand on top of hers, "Mina, the truth is, it's killing me. I don't want to give up this ship, or Val to Captain Paris. If I could I would step down as a ship designer and captain her myself." Nathanial looked out the window of his quarters. "I just got done telling the Doc this."
"The Glens back then?" he nodded, "huh, there ahead of schedule. Nate don't let this get to you, there's much more for you to do here and besides you love designing ships" She stands up, "But first we have to get through the next few days."


"Acting Captains log Earth date December 1 2385. It's been two days since we left space dock. The tests are running smoothly. That being said the day I dread is the most is coming closer by the second, the day I turn this ship over to Captain Tomas Paris. We still have three tests until we start the journey to the delta quadrant first is the major weapons test, followed by the slipstream skip and finally the slipstream drive."
A chime at his door interrupted Commander Nathanial, as he was recording his log, "Computer pause recording." He turned from his desk to face the door, "Enter"
A Furangi walks in and goes directly to the replicater without stopping, "Want anything Nate?"
"No thanks Nalvi, What up?" he looked at his monitor, "What are you doing up anyways it's O five hundred?"
Lieutenant Commander Nalvi order his cup of coffee and went over to the table before answering his friend, "the same thing I've been doing for the past three days! Working on your bloody slipstream drive."
"What's wrong with it?" Nathanial Asked with a disappointing look on his face. His old friend had never before had a problem with slipstream drives, he was known as one of the exports on them in the federation, there only being three and all.
Nalvi sighed, "Every time the slipstream core is initiated, it shuts itself back off. Along with a half a dozen other systems."
"Did you run?"
Nalvi through his hands up, "Do you think I'm a cadet right out of the academy. Of course I've ran every scan on the core, the crystalline chamber and for good measure the diagnostic tools. I wouldn't put it pact my staff to run a joke like this on me. Everything running perfectly."
"What do you think it is then?" he looked over at his computer and brought up the slipstream drive schematics and brought them up on the wall monitor.
Nalvi shook his head, "I don't know Nate. We designed this engine of scratch. I told you when we designed it that it wasn't worth the paper it was it was designed on. But you proved me wrong, this engine works. The thing is I don't think it can handle both the skip and the drive. We even need two separate cores for the warp drive and the slipstream."
"So your saying that if we took one off line and just went with the one it should work."
Nalvi shook his head again, "There's no guarantee that it will. Besides the drive is for long term travel, while the skip is for battle, it wouldn't be easy to switch between them if we have to take one off."
Nathanial scratched his chin "How long would it take?"
"Twenty maybe thirty minutes each time."
He thought about it for a moment, "Do it, but take a team and make a program that will speed up the process."
"Alright," Nalvi got up and headed to the door, "I hope we're doing the right thing with this engine."


"Acting Captains log Earth date December 8th 2385, it's been days since the slipstream drive accident. During fight the skip transfer program started causing the ship to go out of control. Luckily no one was harmed and the ship was not destroyed. But for every ounce of good luck there is bad luck. We are trapped inside a large nebula, it's very volatile and any modern way of moving the ship will cause it to explode, but we are drifting out by out selves, albeit slowly. By normal means we won't make it, so I've ordered the construction of stasis pods, and will activate the emergence hologram systems before we enter. I don't know how long it will take but...I just hope this works.


"Nate wake up!" the light was binding someone was hovering over him, he couldn't tell who, "Nathaniel Parker, get up, Now!"
"Yes ma'am." as he said this her face finally came into view, "are we out Mina?"
His first officer nodded "But there's something disturbing."
He was sitting up now, "What is it?"
"A distress call."
"Help me, we need to get up to the bridge."


Nathaniel got to the bridge with Minami's help, and sat in his chair, "Report."
"According to the star movements, were somewhere near the Bata quadrant and delta quadrant border. Around the year 2395." A ensign at the operations station reported
"And the distress call?"
"Federation in origin, but that's all we can tell."
"Good," he taped his Combadge, "Nalvi, is the slip stream skip working." Nalvi and his team was woken up days before to cheek over the ship.
"it is cap, but I don't know for how long, we never fully tested the drive, with the accident and all."
"I want you down there monitoring the drive. Val," he turned to his little cousin at the con, "I want us just close enough so we can that we can get a scan of what's happening."
"Ay ay, cus." she turned back to her station and set out to work. Under a minuet they were in range.
"Captain there's a message coming in." it was the ensign a the opps station.
"show me what happening first."The view scream lit up. It was a battle, no more of a blood bath, there was one sovereign class facing what looked to be three emissary?s, and two defiant. "What does the message say?"
There was a lot of static as the message played, ?This is captain ..ta of the starship Enterprise. We are under attack by ... any a... respond."
"Sir the Enterprises warp core is going critical."
"Val slipstream skip, beam as many off her as we can we have only one chance, I really don't want to face tree capital ships by ourselves."


"Captains Log June 5th 2396, we're at war, With ourselves. I never thought this would happen. Ten years we've been gone from the federation, and a war breaks out. According to Captain Data and his acting first officer lieutenant Miral Paris it all started after the an attack on Earth Section 31 came out of hiding and took over a good portion of the fleet. Abolishing the old system and setting up a monarchy centered around their leader a member of the old British royal family. As I am not a real captain I am allowing my crew to decide for themselves what they want to do. I for one am going to fight. Fight for the freedoms of the federation that I grew up in."
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Last edited by ccmurphy; 07-02-2013 at 07:33 PM.
Join Date: Jul 2012
Posts: 216
# 23
07-02-2013, 08:26 PM
The Athena dropped smoothly out of warp a short distance from a beautiful blue orb of a planet.

"Attention all hands, this is the Admiral speaking," Bryan said, speaking into the intercom, "We have arrived at Risa. We will be spending two to four weeks here for diplomatic talks, so you are all granted extended shore leave for the duration. First shuttles to the surface will launch in fifteen minutes. I will signal you all one day prior to departure. That is all."

Bryan sat back a little and gazed around the Bridge. Slowly, checking their stations one last time, they began to file out and into the turbolift. Soon, Bryan was the only one left on the bridge. He stood up and glanced at his chair. Sighing slightly, he walked over to the turbolift.

"Observation lounge," He called, and the lift sped away. The doors opened to reveal a spacious, but empty, room, with several tables, a bar, a kitchen area, and a large window that gave an impressive view of the space around the ship. He stepped into the room and leaned against a wall nearby the window, staring out into the empty black void.

"I'm surprised to still see you on board," Someone said from the entrance, causing Bryan to glance over.

"Ibalei," He replied turning back to the window. "I could say the same about you, you know."

"Not an answer," she said, smiling a little as she walked over to him.

Bryan laughed, shaking his head a little. "I grew up on ships. The faint groaning of the bulkheads is more home to me than a planet ever will be."

They were both silent for a moment. "You know, in all the time I've been on this boat, I don't think I've ever walked the entire length of the ship," Bryan said, looking around the room.

"Mind if I join you?" Ibalei asked. "I haven't really had the chance either."

Bryan smiled. "Of course not."


After several minutes of walking, they arrived at their first destination. The door to the main fire control room hissed open gently to reveal a woman with long brown hair standing at the console.

"Avalrez?" Bryan said, causing the Athena's chief tactical officer to look up briefly. "What are you still doing aboard?"

"Recalibrating the targeting systems," she replied.

Bryan shook his head. "Avalrez, you should be relaxing."

"But, sir, recalibrating the targeting systems is relaxing!"

Bryan sighed. "Carry on, Avalrez."

He and Ibalei left the room and continued walking through the ship.

"She works far too much," Ibalei said with a slight sigh.

"I'm not sure she even considers it work," Bryan replied, shaking his head.

They continued walking. They passed some crew members occasionally, but for the most part, the massive ship was completely empty. Whenever they came upon a major section of the ship, they stopped to look in briefly before continuing their tour. Eventually, they arrived at the main sickbay, where Syiseda was still sitting at her desk working busily.

"I know, I know," She said, speaking to someone over her console. "I still have a few more reports to file though. I'll be down as soon as I can." She paused, listening to the person's response. "Yes, I know. I'll be down in a little while." Another pause, this time ending with her laughing a little. "I love you too. I'll see you soon."

"Who was that?" Bryan asked, causing the Betazoid woman to nearly jump out of her chair.

"Sir, I didn't hear you approach," she replied, still slightly startled. "That was...ummm..."

"Let me guess," Bryan said, smiling a little, "Lieutenant Mckenzie Lennis?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, looking down.

Bryan walked up to her. "How long have you two been together?"

"A few months," She said, " I'll tell her that we need to break it off as soon as I can."


"Starfleet has regulations about fraternization and-"

"And a ship's commanding officer has the final say in how regulations such as that are enforced. My only rule is that you not let your relationship interfere with your duties. I have actually noticed an increase in efficiency from both you and Lieutenant Lennis. As a result, what you two do in your spare time is your buisness."

"You don't even care that she's-"

"A woman? Why would I? Especially when I have a half-Romulan sister who has a Reman woman as a lover, and I consider her to be more family to me than even my parents."

Syiseda laughed. "Point taken, sir."

Bryan smiled. "Go ahead and head to the surface. Your reports can wait a little while."

"Are you sure? It shouldn't take much-"

"That's an order Lieutenant."

"Oh, fine," She replied getting up from her seat, smiling brightly. Just before she left the room, she turned and said, "Thank you for understanding, Bryan."

"Of course," Bryan replied, smiling as well.


Bryan and Ibalei eventually found themselves back in the Athena's observation lounge. They walked to the window and leaned against the wall near the window.

"Athena," Bryan called, "Could you cut the lights in this room?"

"Sure thing," The AI replied, and the lights turned off, leaving the room lit only by the soft, blue reflection from Risa's oceans.

Ibalei rested her head on Bryan's shoulder, "Earlier, you said that this ship feels like home to you. Would you like to know where home is for me?" She asked.

"Where?" Bryan replied.

She smiled, closing her eyes. "Where ever you are is more home to me than anything else in the entire galaxy."

Bryan smiled, kissing her gently. "You're far too nice, Ibalei."

She shifted slightly, leaning against Bryan now. "No. You humans have a saying: Home is where the heart is. My heart belongs with you.

Bryan looked out of the window silently for a minute. Finally, he replied, "In that case, I hope that you never have to leave your home."

Ibalei looked into his eyes and smiled. "Don't worry. I never will."
Vice Admiral Bryan Mitchel Valot
Commanding officer: Odyssey class U.S.S. Athena
Admiral of the 1st Assault Fleet
Join date: Some time in Closed Beta

Last edited by ironphoenix113; 07-02-2013 at 08:38 PM.
Join Date: Jun 2012
Posts: 396
# 24
07-02-2013, 11:06 PM
A Galaxy-class starship limps into Deep Space Nine's repair docks, the captain, a human, exits the docking ring and walks into the conference room, where Melani D'ian, Chancellor J'mpok, Admiral Quinn, Captain Kurland, Captain Shon and D'Tan are awaiting his arrival

"I'm glad you all can make it. I'm Aidan M'urra, captain of the Purifier. Or what's left of it. This is the matter I needed to speak to you all with." He puts a PADD on the table, and plays a holo .
J'mpok, scowling at the captain, growled. "What is this?"

"That, Jimmy, is the new Tal Shiar fleet. Scimitars.", Aidan said as he walked carefully around Melani D'ian. This was a diplomatic gathering. He had no interest in being enticed.

The Klingon growled again. "Scimitars?! Only Sela had access to those weapons of destruction and even then there weren't that many. This is a trick."

This made Aidan angry, and he placed a holo on the table. "A trick? A trick killed my crew, nearly destroyed my ships then.."

The holo powers up with a whirr, and it flashes back to his adventure, where the real story begins...

I was escorting hospital ships, along with a Chel Grett and Terran Empire Prometheus I salvaged, in the Tau Dewa sector, when I first spotted them. The Tal Shiar's fleet. It was the usual: Mogais, D'deridex, and Dhelan warbirds. Then there were these Remans. They were forced to hand over their Scimitar construction facilities and were killed afterwards. I took my battleship in for a closer look, and two Mogai escorts decloaked behind us and escorted us out of the system. We could have taken them easily, but I had no interest in picking a fight with the entire Tal Shiar fleet. Hours went by and we went through the Carraya system. I had the Chel Grett scout ahead while the Prometheus and I were busy with or separation sequences. D'Tan and Captain Shon can corroborate on this next part.

Two Republic T'varo-class warbirds and the Enterprise warped in with my... convoy. Remember those two Mogai escorts? Yeah they came back... with a few Scimitars.

I ordered Shon and the T'varo warbirds to get the hospital ships out. Then I ordered the Prometheus, the saucer and I to directly engage the Scimitar as the Chel Grett fired the energy dissipator. It did not even phase it. Both Scimitars let out a barrage of disruptor fire, and my Galaxy's augmented shielding barely held, but my engineers are highly skilled, and were able to bring them back to full. I then ordered everything to be fired at once. The Prometheus and Chel Grett eventually fell to fire, and I was able to disable one of the Scimitars. In a last ditch effort, I rammed the other Scimitar, killing the command crew of the large warbird. That's actually what killed my crew.

The holo clicks off and by this time, Shon is tired, Kurland is bored, Melani is in Aidan's lap and J'mpok is on his sixteenth bloodwine. D'Tan has left to oversee the Flotilla

So... I leave this information in your hands. I'm not paid to worry about Scimitars, however I was paid to deliver the schematics to build your own. So gentleman, I'm taking the lady out for a wonderful evening, you have the schematics, do what you need to do...

He walks out of the room, and the leaders look at each other and depart not long after.

Check out my Odyssey Uniform, based on the Vulcan woman who was on the STO page during Season 6: New Romulus! (*Skirts and pants uniforms are listed*)

Last edited by asardetemplari; 07-03-2013 at 02:33 PM.
Join Date: Sep 2012
Posts: 2
# 25 Captain's Log: New begginings
07-03-2013, 11:26 AM
Captain's log Stardate 91108.28

After my promotion to Vice Admiral, Starfleet has commissioned a new starship for me, since my previous ship has been destroyed,an Odyssey Tactical Cruiser, called U.S.S. Alliance. Though I would appreciate a week-long vacation on the Risa System, I am called not only from duty, but from vengeance too. I now have the much needed time to take a more substantial role in the Omega Force, to take arms against the Borg Collective. Starfleet Command wants me to report, but I've been given a month off to do whatever I want, and I plan to make the most of the time. Other than that, I'm satisfied with my ship and it's crew, which is good since we've been given the leadership of a small squadron of cruisers and escorts, about half a dozen of them. Instead of being in secret operations they want us in the front lines of the conflict. Though I do not know how I feel about this, I'm excited, not only for the adventures that await, but also because we have a new Betazoid bridge officer. Despite my 7 year experience, I've never made contact with a Betazoid, and this is an exciting event for me. I hope our first contact goes well, and our encounters with the Borg are successful too.

Vice Admiral Sodin Ram out.
Join Date: Jul 2012
Posts: 27
# 26 Gossip
07-04-2013, 05:21 AM
"Have you ever noticed," said Rufa as she plonked herself onto a chair in the medical bay, "that all the ship's chief officers, except for you, have a primarily white colour scheme in their uniform?"

Her conversation partner shrugged, before moving off to categorise some scalpels. Sovos had always been a rather strange Vulcan; one who wished to sort all things into logical categories, even if it would be illogical to waste so much time doing so. Of course, would it not be logical to do such a thing as an exercise to sharpen one's mind when there was nothing else to do?

"Yes," replied the doctor, turning to face her best friend. "It is rather illogical. What do you assume the reason for such an occurrence is?"

Rufa shrugged. She had never really thought about why. Reasons had never really appealed to her, although if she planned on ever being assigned a command, then she'd have to start thinking about them more and more. Compared to her people, Starfleet put a lot of emphasis on learning about reasonings and everything. It was all such a bother, but it was a bother she would have to get used to.

"The same reasoning for the Vice Admiral's love of snowball fights?" offered the security chief. "I dunno Vossy; I'm not really a reasons type of person."

"Please prevent yourself from referring to me as 'Vossy'," said Sovos, a hint of what could barely be discerned as annoyance, or at least, Vulcan annoyance, showing in her tone. "It is illogical to refer to me as thus, especially in a professional setting such as a starship."

"Vossy, we work for Starfleet."

Sovos raised an eyebrow. Although her friend had completely disregarded her wishes to not be referred with such a ... demeaning nickname, she was legitimately curious about what exactly the younger officer's statement meant.

"And, how does such a statement relate to the conversation?"

There was a grin on Rufa's face as she leaned forward, as if to share some sort of secret or juicy piece of gossip. The combination of such a grin and her reflective eyes, which seemed to be shining brighter than before, gave her a rather ... mischievous appearance.

"First of all - we have no dress code. I was on Earth Spacedock two weeks ago, looking for Captain Sulu, and I saw a commander talk to Admiral Quinn while wearing khakis. The admiral didn't even bat an eyelash!"

It was rather fascinating hearing of such an interesting anecdote, but Sovos still did not see how that really related to the topic.

"And second of all," continued the security officer, "we can do whatever we want with our weaponry and things. I'm pretty sure the vice admiral convinced Otep and Corpsa to install some plasma weapons stolen from the Tal Shiar on our ship. And I use a sword! I wave it around and stab Klingons with it! This is the age of shooty lasers, and I stab things with a sword!"

"The Klingon Empire continues to use the bat'leth even to this day-"

Rufa waved a hand, rudely cutting her friend off. "Most of all, I saw Sam and Jular making out right outside the bridge yesterday."

Any retort that would have found their way to the tip of Sovos' tongue was instantly quashed by this new revelation. She was privy to the relationship between their operations and sciences officers, of course - the entire crew (except for the new Romulan exchange officer, who had not been with them long enough) knew of the relationship. But the fact that the two were doing such things on-duty? This piece of gossip was ... remarkably fascinating.

"Continue," she said, now completely intrigued.

"Weren't you talking about me going off-topic just before?" asked Rufa, a bit annoyed at the hypocrisy. "Let me finish, okay? I'll tell you about that stuff later."

Sovos reluctantly nodded. She could wait several more minutes.

"So anyway, all this stuff happens, and the higher-ups don't really care. Professional isn't what we should be calling Starfleet! So it is untrue that our ship is a professional setting!"

"... You decided to engage in such a long-winded spiel in order to prove that we do not work in a professional setting?"

The security chief gave a shrug. "Well, that's about it ... yeah."

There was a rather tense and awkward moment between the two, before Sovos realised that she had wanted to learn about the deeper workings of her superiors' romantic entanglements. Usually she would have returned to her categorising by now, but such fascinating gossip? She needed to acquire the information.

"Commander Jones and Lieutenant Commander Hajiben?"

"Right," said Rufa with cheer, leaping off her chair. "So you see ... the two of them ha-"

At that very moment, the ship's klaxons went off, signalling a shift to red alert. The USS Oceania had entered battle, and from the immense shaking, it was obvious that their commanding officer had decided to charge straight into a fleet of Klingons again.

Rufa sighed. It looked like she wasn't going to tell the story after all. "The next time I have a break, I'll tell you. Right now, I need to head to the bridge and whack Tepon."

Such was life on the USS Oceania and its hard-working crew members. Nobody ever knew when they would be called to battle, or if they needed to bail out their impulsive captain. Every single one of them knew their duties, and would complete them with great enthusiasm, even if they were supposed to be on break.

There was a reason their motto was "there is no such thing as a holiday", after all.

Seconds later, Sovos paused, the Vulcan doctor having been in the midst of picking up gear for the inevitable injuries that would follow the battle. "Wait, what was the conversation about in the first place?"
Join Date: Feb 2013
Posts: 10
# 27 Dylen 3: Broken Arrow
07-05-2013, 03:53 AM
Broken Arrow

As Dylen's fighter screamed toward the Iconian asteroid, she ruminated bitterly. It had been three weeks since the Val'Hannorr became trapped in the strange pocket space. That's right, the wormhole didn't just snap shut behind them, it collapsed. The only way left for them to return to normal space was to build the prototype Iconian warp device.

That meant deciphering the Iconian language (a dead language which had not been heard in two hundred thousand years), repair the Iconian repository storage system (a dead technology which hadn't functioned in just as long), build the warp device (a technology which ostensibly had never been built or tested), and adapt the device to Romulan technology. An impossible task, as a whole, but Dylen had no intention of being marooned forever; failure would not be tolerated.

"We have you on final approach, Commander," the comms crackled, shattering her reverie. "Welcome back. If you don't mind my saying, Commander, your arrival is well-timed."

Suppressing a wave of anger, Dylen inquired icily, "What's happened now?"

"I couldn't say for certain," the comm officer replied. "There was some kind of alert in the repository. I believe there were casualties."

Dylen shook her head and sighed as she spotted an oily plume of smoke oozing out into space, "Fine. I'll be there momentarily."

The commander flicked her comms off with a snarl and eased the fighter down in the plaza outside the repository. She leaped down out of the Scorpion and stalked across the plaza, ready to cause all manner of unfortunate events. With every step down the hall leading into the repository, however, her rage cooled, replaced by her icy steadiness.

Her eyes slid over the room with a disinterested familiarity. She'd seen the strange architecture with its odd angles dozens of times in the last few weeks; the words and symbols on the walls, ceilings and even the floors remained a mystery to her, one that - despite their predicament - she couldn't care less to solve herself. The conduits running along the entire structure hummed eerily and pulsed with a purple plasma that set her teeth on edge and filled her mouth with a weird metallic taste.

Then there was the bulky, painfully-designed console in the center of the room. It rose up out of the flooring like an alien sculpture, delicately touching all the walls and the ceiling where the purple conduits ran into it like tree roots. Every time she laid eyes on it, Dylen felt a deep, primal fear rise up her spine. It took an effort of will to not run in terror from the thing, but if it was one thing the commander had, it was will.

Dylen took a deep breath and bellowed, "Subcommander Latres! Report!"

Within seconds, Latres appeared, weaving his lean, hard form through the throng of scientists all looking for something to do away from the commander and her legendary wrath. He smiled widely, a bright showing of teeth that never touched his frigid eyes. "Commander, good timing."

"I heard," the commander harrumphed. "The accident."

Latres' smile vanished into a look of confusion, "What...? Oh, that. No, not because of that."

"What happened?"

The subcommander snorted derisively, "I gave an engineer, Lieutenant Tomor, the job of prototyping the power distribution system of the Iconian ship gate, and he proved to be the lesser for the task." When he saw that she was not appeased, he elaborated, "He tried to hook up the small singularity core from one of our shuttles to the Iconian plasma conduits. The result, of course, was quite interesting. Somehow, the residual Iconian plasma left in the coils altered the gravity of our artificial singularity, and it exploded. That smoke billowing out of the building is a result of all the matter the core 'sucked up' before it flared. Incidentally, there are probably some bits of Tomor in the smoke as well, on an atomic scale, anyway; the resultant fission reaction atomized the fool."

Commander Dylen nodded once, a sign that she understood and was no longer interested. "And currently?" She inquired.

"We took our knowledge of the Dewan and Dinasian languages and gained a very spare but working knowledge of Iconian," Latres started ticking off fingers. "That gave us access to the gate schematics," he ticked another finger. "Now I have half a dozen teams working on different facets of the device. Some of my team are also still working on the Iconian language and their database, mostly the telepaths. They seem to have an unusual...affinity for the work and there's much more we can learn here."

Dylen leaned in and whispered, "Telepaths? Are you sure?"

"Indeed, Commander," Latres mumbled back. "Contrary to popular belief, we didn't completely lose our telepathic genes after the schism with Vulcan. It's rare, but with testing and proper training, the latent talents can be nurtured. And the Tal'Shiar has been more than willing to provide that...environment, particularly since the home world was lost."

That left Dylen seriously intrigued, but it was purely academic if they couldn't escape pocket space. "How long?" She asked icily.

The subcommander furrowed his brow, "We should have something by the end of the day. If we're lucky, we may have a working prototype by tomorrow, and begin the adaptation phase then. I project that we'll have a working device fitted to the Val'Hannorr by the end of the week."

Dylen nodded and pursed her lips. "You have three days," she announced casually, then turned on her heel and strode from the repository.


Three days passed and Dylen hadn't returned to the asteroid, but something was beginning to affect the ship. Events started a couple of days earlier as rumors, stories of wild nightmares and crying in the night. It escalated from there, rapidly and disastrously.

Crew members started complaining that they felt like they were being watched, some even said something was trying to get into their heads. After that, paranoia and aggression began to take over; fights broke out and several crew members were killed. When exhaustion finally took over, the afflicted crew couldn't wake up. Now there were entire decks that echoed with their screams.

Dylen kept a running tally of the affected in her mind, watched them as they declined. It was interesting, she noted, that the only ones in distress were telepathic.

The commander refused to let on, but fatigue and rage were taking over her as well; she had also seen the nightmares, felt the icy, phantom fingers in her mind. Images of panic and fear reached out, Iconian voices grabbed at her from beyond the grave for help she could never give. They hounded her constantly, fraying her around the edges, but the pictures that shook her to her core, that really terrified her, were disjointed reflections of shadowy, statuesque figures towering over her.

The more she fought it, the more insistent the force became. That is, until she figured out what was happening and let it in...


The main viewer on the bridge of the Val'Hannorr flicked on. "Subcommander Latres to Commander Dylen. Are you there, Commander?"

Dylen sat hunched in her seat, haggard and weary from recent experiences. "I'm here, Latres." His location looked familiar, so she studied the screen, finally asking, "Where are you?"

"I'm in Engineering, Commander," he replied. "Preliminary tests of the completed device showed promise, so I returned and installed it on board. We're running power tests now, and should be ready to return to normal space soon." Latres paused and leaned close to his console, "Commander, you look terrible."

Commander Dylen sniffed as she straightened up in her chair. "Not sleeping well," she hissed, "I'm somewhat eager to get under way."

Latres nodded dismissively, "Powering up now, Commander." The subcommander tapped a key on his console and suddenly the screen went black. Seconds later, a sound like tortured metal echoed up the side of the ship and the bridge heaved.

"What's going on? Latres?" Dylen smashed her comms key, "Someone get down to Engineering and tell me what's going on!"

Minutes passed like years as the commander waited for a response. Eventually, an audio channel opened, "Commander? Uhlan Vogor in Engineering. It's a mess down here."

"Vogor," Dylen sighed in what would count as relief in anyone else. "What happened down there, Vogor?"

"It looks like a power conduit exploded, Commander," Vogor answered. "My med team and I are searching for survivors, but none so far."

There was a long pause in which nearly anyone else would find themselves overwhelmed with concern, terror even, for their closest friend. Once again, Dylen proved that she was not "anyone." "Who is my engineering chief now?" She snapped her fingers, "Lieutenant...Tactical? What's your name?"

"Lieutenant Enva, Commander," the woman squeaked.

"Great," Dylen snapped. "You can answer a question. Now how about answering my other question? Who is chief of engineering now?"

Enva's brow furrowed, "After the Wormhole, it was Subcommander Duva, then after the Borg it was Lieutenant Tomor...."

Dylen arched an eyebrow, "Enough with the history lesson, Tactical, give me the name."

"Sorry, Commander," Enva peeped. "If she survived this explosion, I believe the next in line is Uhlan Wa'Rel."

"That's an interesting name," the commander huffed.

The lieutenant's gaze slid away in embarrassment, "She's...uh, from Carraya IV, Commander."

Commander Dylen broke into side-splitting laughter. "Carraya IV? The defunct Tal'Shiar prison planet?"

"Yes, Commander," Enva winced.

"So my tech chief is half-Klingon?" She wiped a tear from her eye.

Lieutenant Enva cleared her throat, "I'm not sure I understand the joke, Commander."

Dylen smirked, "No? Let's see... We have a hard-nosed leader, me, an emotionally-stunted Second, Latres - assuming he's still alive, a wet-behind-the-ears lieutenant, you, an able-but-overlooked doctor, Vogor, and this half-breed engineer. We're one plucky sidekick away from being a Federation vessel!"

Her bitter, raucous laughter was interrupted by the comms, "Commander, Vogor here. You should come down to medbay."

"On my way," she coughed.


Soon after, Dylen marched into medbay where Uhlan Vogor waited with a heavy face and green blood caking his clothes. "Why am I here, Vogor?"

The uhlan nodded and stepped aside to reveal a wounded but very alive Subcommander Latres. His entire torso was bandaged and bleeding through, as was his head, and one arm was slung in a bio-cast. To his credit, he was awake and quite alert.

"Commander," a female voice said from behind her.

Dylen turned and backed into the room, out of the doorway. Right behind her was an unusually tall woman, with the chiseled features and slightly pointed ears of a Romulan, but the distinct brow ridges of a Klingon. "You must be Uhlan Wa'Rel," she nearly smirked.

"Yes, ma'am," Wa'Rel answered flatly, glaring down at her commanding officer.

The commander smiled slightly at that. The girl had guts, probably from her Klingon parent. She was even willing to forgive the "ma'am" this one time. "Why aren't you in Engineering, Wa'Rel?"

Wa'Rel shrugged, "There's no need, Commander. The damage was minimal, limited to secondary systems."

Commander Dylen sniffed in approval, "Well that's good..."

"It's not that good, Commander," Wa'Rel interrupted. "If Subcommander Latres had been standing where he was supposed to be, he would have been killed."

Dylen stopped short, "Wait. What do you mean 'supposed to be?'"

"He was supposed to be standing at the primary engineering console when the Iconian warp device was powered up," Wa'Rel explained. "Instead, he powered it up from a secondary console so that he could use the communications array there as well." She paused, letting that sink in a little before continuing, "That's the good news. The bad news is that the Iconian device is unharmed. There wasn't even a hint of damage to it."

The commander winced and her face darkened, "Which means that the explosion was sabotage." She stopped and thought for a moment. "Lieutenant Enva," she called out and was immediately annoyed at herself for staring at the ceiling like everyone else did when using the ship's intercom. "How many science teams are still on the asteroid?"

"Four teams, Commander," Enva replied. "Twenty-four individuals in total."

"Good. Transfer them an industrial replicator, some food replicators and tell them to make themselves at home while continuing their work." Dylen whirled on Wa'Rel, "You. Get back to Engineering and make sure that we're ready to go. I want no mistakes." Then, she rounded on Latres, laboring to breathe in his bed, "Subcommander, I need you on the bridge. And Vogor? Hand me that datapad. I need to make a list and time is extremely short."


Dylen was whistling pleasantly as she strolled onto the bridge, tapping the datapad in time with her tune; Enva shuddered visibly at the sight. "Good to see you back where you belong, Latres," she trilled. "Is the warp device ready?"

Subcommander Latres nodded in agony.

"Good," the commander beamed without actually looking to see his response. "Take us home, Latres."

The grievously wounded man gingerly pecked a sequence of keys at his station with his one functional hand, and slowly, the walls began to hum all around them. Within moments, a charge began to build up all over; through the main viewer they could see bolts of purple lightning arcing off the hull. The arcs started to focus in the front of the ship, forming a ring. As the energy discharge concentrated, images began to form at its nexus. Planets and moons, asteroid belts and constellations swirled one into the next.

"Find us somewhere out of the way, Subcommander," Dylen said eagerly.

Latres pressed a few more keys. As the images cycled out in space, the computer whirred and chirped, analyzing and identifying the regions of space being shown. Finally, Subcommander Latres grunted, "There."

"Take us in, Helmsman," Dylen ordered.

"Maneuvering thrusters, aye," Helm responded.

Slowly, the Val'Hannorr eased forward. The energy arcs intensified, and the nexus began to grow. In seconds, the Val'Hannorr was touching the event horizon, and then it was through. Behind the ship, the nexus collapsed with a boom that coursed over the hull like a gong, and then there was blackness and silence.

"Hmm," Dylen grumbled. "So that's what purple tastes like."

Lieutenant Enva nodded, "This seems kind of anticlimactic."

Dylen waved it off, "No matter. We have a vermin problem on board to take care of. Tell me, where are we storing the various hull fragments we've picked up?"

"Large-cargo, bay two," Enva replied.

The commander paced across her bridge, "Good." She handed the datapad to the lieutenant, "I want you to gather the crew members on this list there."

All of a sudden, Latres slammed headlong into his console and slid down, collapsing in a heap on the floor.

"Commander to Uhlan Vogor," Dylen sighed, annoyed at being interrupted. "Your patient needs your attention." She stalked over to Latres' console, standing over his twitching form, and then turned back to Enva, "Is it done?"

Enva eyed the commander suspiciously, "They're all on their way, Commander. You should be able to monitor their progress from there."

Dylen tapped the console, watching the little dots that corresponded to crew members' life signs move toward the cargo bay. Minutes passed, but eventually all the dots were in the proper place. Granted, the last few took some...convincing by security teams, but they were all in the bay.

"And now," the commander said with a wide grin. "To fumigate." She mashed a button on the console and the ship lurched slightly.

Toward the rear of the massive battleship, a giant cargo bay door opened. With no force field in place, the atmosphere in the bay immediately blew out, ripping dozens of Romulans into the vacuum of space.

"Put me on ship-wide," Dylen announced coldly. All the lightness and mirth of the last minutes was instantly gone. "Attention, crew. You may have noticed a little more space on the Val'Hannorr. That's because I have just taken the liberty of...releasing those among you who were planted by Admiral Sevek. I want you all to look out the nearest porthole or window. I want you to see them struggling for air and turning blue. I want you all to see the price of betrayal. I am the Val'Hannorr, and as far as you're concerned, I am the Tal'Shiar. I hope we have an understanding. Dylen out."

"Take us back to Narendra V now, Helm," the commander ordered in a softer tone, but no less icy. "We have one last dha'rudh* to deal with: Admiral Sevek.

(*dha'rudh - moron, severe insult)
Join Date: Jun 2012
Posts: 1,297
# 28
07-05-2013, 07:35 AM
To the last, I grapple with thee; from hell's heart, I stab at thee; for hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee


Pointless to me until my rebirth. I had died an honorable death, more so than I deserved as an honorless targ named Krotious, barely surviving aboard a broken down bird of prey. I was a scrawny Peta'Q, worthless beyond scrubbing power couplings clean, yet I died in combat, fighting with the soulless monsters known only as the Borg. We were a ship in a small fleet ordered to help the Federation in Gamma Orionis, we were outgunned, we never stood a chance, we were cannon fodder for the larger more glorious vessels in the Fleet. It was a suicide mission, one the Captain gladly took, knowing full well that it was the only way to guarantee his crew an honorable entry through the gates of Sto'Vo'Kor.

It was a short battle for us, the ship was taken out easily as the battle raged, as a maneuver to by the other ships time, the captain ordered emergency transport rather than self destruct. Initiating ramming speed be beamed the entire crew onto the cube to wreak havoc internally. Twenty-seven excuses for warriors making their way through the narrow halls of the walking death. When our disruptors failed we began hacking our way through to the central plexus losing more men and women along the way it was myself and two others who finally made it. The connection to the hive mind was with in our reach, all I had to do was destroy it with a grenade or even my bare hands if need be, and I failed...

As my crew mates fell defending me, I hesitated. I was afraid. I dishonored the family that I had disappointed all of my pathetic life. And with that in my heart I died, feeling the icy cold of the nanotubules as they pierced my skin. The feeling of that walking death spreading through my body was intense, a pain I deserved for my failure. With that, my own body failed me. My legs moved against my will, trillions of voices in my head at once leading me to a chamber... no, a butcher's block was a more accurate term. Limbs and organs being removed, people screaming in agony. My comrades being tortured as they became the thing we were sent to destroy.

I spent days under their evil influence, my body changed beyond recognition. My eye plucked from my skull, my arm removed from below the elbow, half of my face removed and replaced. Numerous enhancements were made increasing my size and strength, including additional machines, the more they put into my body the more was taken from my mind. Over the course of my transformation I lost everything and anything that was me, drowning in a sea of lost souls as everything became black.

And then I woke up.

I became aware again in a bright room with a small female, knowing very little about what had happened to my body. Ten years stolen from me, ten years of my life serving the walking death, like an insect serving a Queen I?d never see. The Federation vessel had found me floating in a destroyed Borg Sphere as, what they called, a Heavy Tactical Drone. They removed all of my damaged systems and repaired my body, returning me to more Klingon than machine once more. As I tried to end my miserable existence, I found new meaning. The Federation vessel had itself some kind of monster, a ghost my machines could not see, a phantom with a strength almost rivaling what I would find was my own.

We fought in glorious combat, he was the faster, yet I was stronger. I found a renewed sense of being. Forget my lost honor, forget the honor of my house, with my new abilities I could be so much more than the cowering whelp I once was. And then as I thrilled in the hunt, as my blood once again flowed Klingon, as I reveled in the chance to eat the heart of this enemy, I tasted nothing but defeat. The mongrel dog managed to outsmart me and blast me into space allowing a cloaked Klingon ship to beam me aboard.

At first I was livid, I was furious, I was alive. I spent my time becoming Krotious, more than a Klingon warrior, I was more than just a Borg drone. I'd even begun reworking the prosthesis on my arm into more of a clawed metal talon than a feeble claw. The fingers fold back into the wrist, completing a circuit allowing me to focus the power source into an energy blast. My shield allowing me to be a beast on the battlefield. When honor is no longer a concern, I found myself liberated of the cares and concerns of the Empire. Little things became so meaningless to me and I reveled in the freedom.

I became oriented to a single goal. Mine. Everything I wanted would be mine, and I would enjoy the depravity I sank to achieve my goals. It didn't take long before I was given my own command, a command I wore like cheap targ fur. At first it was fun, but as I grew tired a new challenge presented itself. Fek'lhri delivered unto me a new ship along with a new freedom from the Klingon Defense Force, all I had to do was conquer it. Conquer it I did, making it my own as well as I prepared to seek my vengeance.

Granted with my power and my new carrier, it was no longer necessary to seek out this pointy eared devil, but to be honest, it was the challenge that I desired. He bested me in my new form, but that was before I knew how to master my abilities. Now that I was master of my being, I would plan for our next encounter. Oh how I began to long for the day I would see that... thing... again. It would not out wit me, it would not out fight me. It would just have the honor of falling to my new found glory. So I planned carefully. I would follow the ship carefully phased almost entirely out of reality, better than cloak, I followed it watching and waiting for my moment to strike. With a ship like the U.S.S. Geist, I didn't have to wait long.

From nowhere an anomaly opened and a Tholian ship assaulted my prey. I kept my distance as the interspacial anomaly might have exposed my vessel. I watched from a distance as the Federation dogs were out numbered and outgunned. I almost debated revealing myself and beaming the creature aboard, but sensor sweeps would have exposed us and I was relatively sure our sensors would not be able to see it, if my own Borg implant was incapable. My crew even began placing bets as the tides turned between the two forces. So I waited as the battle raged on and my prey lost the fight.

I worried that I would be denied my hunt, but out of nowhere they pulled victory from the jaws of the crystal spiders. From here I would watch them and monitor transmissions. Their crew broke off and separated, weary and tired from their fight. I observed and made notes and altered my plans as necessary. I had sent out a few spies to follow those that left, surprised to find my quarry had made it off of the ship without my knowing. It was an opportunity that I would not let pass. I took my personal shuttle to Risa to engage. Risa, a planet of frivolous indulgence and hedonism. How such a creature would fare of a planet like this was beyond me, but I followed curious to find out.

I waited until his two allies had left him alone, going to dance leaving him alone in their room. How could I resist? With a simple knock on the door the challenge was issued. While my ocular implant could not track him, I could hear him approaching the door. My left palm retracted against the wrist as the fingers bent unnaturally transforming it from a prosthetic to a weapon which charged as he reached for the entry button. A moment later I unleashed the blast prematurely thinking that he'd heard the charging. It would seem I was right. He'd shifted from the doorway into the toilet to the side of the entryway.

Not wanting to waste time, I reformed my hand as I kicked in what was left of the door. It would take a little while for the internal power supply to build an adequate charge, so for the time being I would test my strength in hand to hand. A fast as the creature is I was stronger but still, I would need to take care with this wily prey. I turned and caught him by surprise and kicked him square in the chest sending him against the toilet, breaking it. As he stood again I backhanded him into the shower breaking the wall, tiles falling to the floor. The ghost broke free the bar holding the curtain, and he began using it as a weapon against me. He cracked it hard into the faceplate as he tried to push me back.

I obliged, but only far enough to allow me to slam his head through the sink. He began moving on the defensive using the bar to block my strikes, but I struck hard to the center breaking it in half. The thing began striking at me with both halves as if they were swords, trying to hit me in weaker spots, my knees, my neck, my face. I laughed off the strikes as I grabbed him and tossed him through the wall of the shower, into the room.

Following, I kept hitting him as hard as I could trying to keep him off balance but my prey was nimble and quick. I would knock him to the ground only to have the specter roll back to his feet as if it were nothing. I threw him at a wall a few times and he managed to hit it feet first leaping back at me with his full force. At one point he used that very momentum to roll me off my feet kicking me into the ceiling fan. I rose as the Peta'Q continued beating his fists into me with all its might. I laughed again as I made first blood with my talon. A deep cut along the torso. As he reeled back in pain I kicked hard to the fresh wound, knocking him through the glass to the balcony. I pressed forward hitting his face against the railing, cutting open his forehead when suddenly there was a sharp pain in my side.

This monster had lodged a large shard of glass into my side I brought my metal fist down like a club across his face, and as it hit the balcony floor, his foot rose up kicking the shard deeper into my side. I struck down again, this time having him return to his knees and lodging another piece in my thigh. Another hit my abdomen and on into my chest. The clever warrior was trying to bleed me out...

We struggled, hitting each other with a flurry of punches and elbows. I'd even headbutt him for good measure knocking him off balance. I went it with my talon for a finishing blow when to my surprise, even dazed, he ducked my fist and used my momentum to swing me against the bent railing, leaping against the wall and diving right into me sending us both over the railing. We feel from the balcony of the Risan hotel, falling the full six stories to the pool below, with him pummeling me the entire way down. As we landed in the water I was too weak to fight back as hard and to heavy to swim.

The pool was only a foot higher than my head yet there I was unable to breach the surface. He used that agility, that nimble strength to keep me under. I would try to move and he would shift his weight to unbalance me and keep me under. The shard in my leg kept me unable to simply jump high enough to catch a breath. I don't know if he'd planned this or if it had been a simple blind luck, but he'd done it again. He'd managed to beat me some how. I stood there in the pool, his weight slowly drowning me, bleeding out into the water.

I was stronger, better, and some how here I was again unable to breath, slowly dying. Just like our last meeting it took an emergency transport to get me out of there. In my personal shuttle I'd had my ships medic and engineer waiting to beam me up and stabilizing me had I not managed to defeat him. While I was expecting to win, I would have been a fool to guarantee it. And as I lay there having glass removed from gashes in my body and I couldn't help but think of a line from an old human book:

To the last, I grapple with thee; from hell's heart, I stab at thee; for hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee

With these words I had found my white whale, I had found an my end, the death that I must conquer. Killing this pointy eared devil would be my only thing to live for as well as the focus for all my hate. I'd had him bludgeoned, bloody, broken, and yet he beat me. This was the unconquerable challenge that must be met and bested. It would become my obsession, my love, my hatred. This one task would be the driving force, and from the gates of Gre'thor and Fek'lhr himself, I would do what ever it would take to end this ghost, and I would drag his soul screaming into the afterlife to make sure that devil stayed there.
Join Date: Nov 2012
Posts: 1
# 29 Memories of Tomorrow.
07-05-2013, 08:03 PM
Captains Log, Stardate 83858.34, the last few days... years... decades, have been unusual at the very least, and utterly confusing and impossible at some times. Trying to put this as simply as possible... I am my future self.

That doesn?t help much, so I?d better start at the beginning, but that means the very beginning. I am suffering from a sort of split personality. I am Captain, no, I am Ensign Serena Dell of the United Federation Salvage Ship Fingerbones.

I, Serena, was born on Stardate 65493 on my home planet, the Trill Colony on Kilina IV. Our neutral colony is located between the Romulan Star Empire and the UFP. Suffice to say I managed to join Starfleet, as well as become one of the few Joined Trill from my Colony.

Like other Joined Trill I am also the Dell symbiote, or I was... will be... In either case I was born Stardate 8329 so by the time I was joined to Serena I had only been connected to 3 previous hosts.

I, as Serena Dell, joined Starfleet, and went to the academy. This can all be read in my file and is mostly unimportant so I won?t go into it much more, other than mentioning that I managed to graduate top of my class as a Science Officer so I almost always know what I?m doing.

So that?s my background, a female Joined Trill; very good at science. Here is where my life gets confusing; one week ago as Ensign Dell and on my first tour of duty under Captain Martha Flak. On a routine salvage mission, to the out-of-theway Gorya system, we stumbled upon what seemed to be a hostile fleet, so we hid in the wreckage that we had come to salvage.

That?s when it happened, the first clue that my life would never be ?normal? again. On board that ancient freighter we found an advanced shuttle and, when we approached it, it opened up and out came a fellow Trill. Her first words were ?Ah, took me long enough.? The Trill?s name was Captain Norma Dell and she was my successor who had traveled back in time from when she lived? 18 generations later than me! She had my memories and knew me better than I knew myself.

She had come back in time to try to stop the resurrection of Lore, something that a group of androids in her time were determined to achieve. If they failed to stop the resurrection the first android war would start 200 years too early. So naturally the Captain chose to attach me as her liaison officer as we went off to complete this mission.

I?m still not sure how but we ended up following the Android ships through time. As they shadowed the USS Enterprise at several points in the past, we repeatedly countered their attempts to alter the timeline.

It was the last time that was the most important, and that was only a day or two ago. We had finally returned to our own time, to stop them from intercepting the USS Vhalia. It was carrying Lore?s remains to the UFP Vault, a planet adapted to store dangerous artifacts. We managed to interfere with them so the Vhalia could land, but we had to go on an away mission to the planet to make sure the remains were secured. I led the away mission, along with several officers and my younger Ensign self.

We fought through the corridors of the station and killed several androids and their slaves as we defended the box that contained their Lord and Master. We protected it as the chrono-locks were put into place and as it was sealed in a solid block of Jih Alloy. The mission started to go wrong at that point as the Android army pulled its might together for a final push.

Push they did. In the first wave the crew of the Vhalia was slain and we had to beam reinforcements from the Fingerbones. The second wave claimed half of our crew and several officers. The third wave was the final push, but as we dropped the sealed block down the main shaft to the vault at the core of the planet, Ensign Dell? no that?s not right... I? was shot in the stomach.

The shock to my system almost killed me as my Dell Symbiote perished in the blast. I expected to die in less than a few hours. We beamed back to the Fingerbones, where the doctor tried to stabilize me, but it was too late. Only a new symbiote could save my life, and the only one within range was a future version of the dead one.

So I should be dead; should have been shot into space in a torpedo casing like so many of my friends were this week. The depressed Ensign Ultear, the Joviel Lieutenant Jerome, so many are dead, and by all rights I should be too.

Norma Dell had other plans for me though; apparently I do important things in the future, and my future hosts do important things too. So yesterday I opened my eyes again and saw Norma dead on a bed next to me, her symbiote missing and now resting in me, made possible by a ?paradox machine? that is also implanted in my body.

I know what happens to me, but feel no different. I am still Serena Dell, but with more hosts than before, hosts that will come. So I am also the Dell Symbiote, one who has lived 18 separate lives since I was originally Serena. I remember the future; I remember what will come... and if the future changes so do my memories. I know what will happen tomorrow, and I know the day I will be promoted to Captain. I know the decisions I made along the way and, when I change those decisions, the paradox machine hums and I remember changing them.

I even know how my first mission will turn out, and how my first admiral is a secret Romulan Spy. I even know I have a lost Twin. Captain Martha Flak is the only one who knows right now, but she will die in a week before she files a report, so no-one else will know until I tell my first officer in three years? time.

I feel alone, really alone for the first time in centuries... in my life. Nobody to talk to but my memories. But I have an advantage, I know what?s going to happen... and I can damn well make sure it works out better this time around.

Computer. Delete Log.
Join Date: Aug 2012
Posts: 8
# 30
07-06-2013, 10:58 PM
Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 88304.67

I gave Cherly the news not too long ago. Needless to say, she was devestated.

Found her drunk as hell in the O-Club with her off-duty dress half ripped and half off.

Bandar was no doubt planning to attempt to take advantage of her in the worst way - she recently turned him down, citing terrible personality and recent moves he made towards what he called the "lesser people".

Being in a heavily intoxicated state, she almost agreed.

Said officer is now in the brig for 90 days with bread and water.

Also, I might be asked to attend a inquiry board regarding some...injuries Commander Bandar suffered sometime between his arrival and his removal from the O-club.

I'll have to call up my buddy over at DS9 and see if they can spare a shrink. It's bad enough she's in mourning, it's even worse she's trying to seduce me for "protecting" her or something or other. In short, annoying, troublesome, and I'd rather not have to deal with it.

Also, have heard talk about the newest class of officers from the Academy. I'm supposed to be assigned one of them as a mentor.

Great. Just what I need - a frakking teenager around my officers.

-Addendum : Just found bugs in my room. Traced them back to Cherly. Putting her on medical leave pending psychological checkup.
I used to be BoredZero. But then I had to switch over.

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