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Captain
Join Date: Jul 2012
Posts: 3,506
# 11
04-18-2013, 06:58 PM
Romulan Ink

I was standing at my desk, going through the day's appointments when an incoming message window winked into existence within the flat black surface

Bella Calling:

Reaching out, I tapped the icon, and swiped my finger towards a wall monitor. The slowly rotating slideshow of images was replaced with the face of my older sister.

"Hey, now's not the best time, I've got a client due in any moment," I said, reaching out to pick up a tall glass, and took a long draft of iced Tarkalean tea.

"I'll be quick," Bella replied. "I've had an idea for expanding my backpiece into a bodysuit, and wondered when you might be able to fit me in?"

"I'm pretty solidly booked for a couple of weeks," I admitted. "But you can always drop by after hours this evening. What did you have in mind to get done?"

"Do you remember the koi carp I described to you a while back? I thought that might be a nice place to start with a sleeve."

I nodded.

"I'll get something drawn up for you, but I've really got to go," I said, as the doors to my studio slid open, admitting a Romulan female in a Starfleet uniform, with a cylindrical holdall slung over one slender shoulder. The division color of her uniform was the mustard yellow of ship's services. "My ten o clock has just arrived."

"Okay, I'll let you go, Boo."

"I'll give you a call back when I'm through here," I promised, before cutting the link and smiling at my visitor. "Sorry about that, good to meet you at last."

"Not a problem at all," she assured me, approaching the work desk. "Did you get the last design modifications I sent last night?"

I called up my inbox, and saw the message.

"The additional script to run down your spine?" I asked. I was fairly sure that this was the last message I had received from Ael t'Kazanak, but what with communications glitches, last minute inspirations and changes of plan, I had learned never to assume anything when it came to communicating with a client.

Ael nodded again and smiled.

"That's right," she said as I called up the concept sketches I had drawn and rotated them on the desk for her to view.

"So we're definitely going with the raptor wings, circa 2370s across your shoulders, and the text running from neck to coccyx, with the other wings on your lower back?" I asked.

"I actually had another idea for the second pair of wings," Ael admitted. "Rather than them being on the lower back, I'd rather have them here --" She placed her hands against her abdomen. "-- what do you think?"

"You're the client," I replied. "Front or back, it makes no difference to me."

"Hmm, I've heard that about Terran men," she mused, a decidedly playful glint in her eye, and I realized I'd walked into that. Not that I minded a little banter with my clients. Tattooing was an extremely personal experience, and it was essential to be able to put the clients at ease. Of course, I knew from initial consultations which clients I could joke with, which ones preferred to be more formal, and the ones who preferred to say nothing at all. Versatility and adaptation were the nature of the business, but Ael and I had exchanged messages for some time, and if the Romulan beauty wanted to flirt with me, I was a single man, and not about to complain.

"Is the text right?" I asked, expanding that aspect of the design.

Ael nodded as her eyes drifted down the curved glyphs.

"'Legacy of Romulus'," she read, translating into English, despite the text being written in Rihannsu. "Yes, that's absolutely perfect. Where will we be starting?"

While I transferred the design to the replicator to produce the stencil, I took another draft of my iced tea.

"I'd like to start with the text," I replied. "It'll make positioning the wings easier, and give a frame to branch off. If you want to just read and sign the waiver, then head through to the work area, we'll be able to get started in a few minutes."

With another nod, Ael scrolled through the legal disclaimer which said that, while fully licensed, I could only do my best to execute the concepts I was given, and unforseen circumstances could always arise.

"That's fine," she said, affixing her thumbprint and signature to the document, which then automatically saved itself. "What method are you going to be using?"

"Do you have a preference?" I enquired. "I was going to use a dermal stylus, but did you have something else in mind? I can replicate coil or rotary machines just as easily, or if you wanted me to employ a more traditional method with hand tools, I could do that."

"Just curiosity," Ael said, slipping off her uniform jacket as she walked through to the work area, which had already been prepared and set up. "I had a friend at the Academy who was tattooed while on a first contact mission, and the shaman worked on her for twelve hours with hand tools. The design goes from her chest, all the way to past her elbow."

"Sounds cool," I admitted. "You'll have to inbox me a picture of it, I always like to see styles from different cultures. But if you've no preference, I'll just use a dermal stylus."

Pulling on a pair of polymer gloves, I crossed to the replicator, and picked up the first stencil while Ael pulled her undershirt over her head, but then dropped her arms, so the singlet sat on her shoulders and chest, where it kept her breasts covered.

"Okay, I'm going to need you to roll your pants down a bit, and stand perfectly still," I said, taking hold of the disinfectant spray and spritzing it against Ael's spine.

"Cold," she said, with a slight shiver.

"Sorry," I replied, blotting the excess away with a paper wipe before laying the stencil against her spine, gently pressing it into place so the carbon would transfer to her skin without spreading. Peeling away the transfer paper, I scrutinized the result. The glyphs were all crisp and clear, the alignment flawless, so I directed Ael to check the result in the full length mirror.

"I like it," she stated, moving over to the seat and straddling it backwards, her arms resting on the backrest.

Tabbing a preset control on the replicator, I changed my gloves while the dermal stylus materialized on the tray.

"I'm going to start at the bottom, and work my way up," I said, adjusting the stylus' output to give a focused result for lining, rather than a more diffuse setting for shading. "If you feel light headed, nauseous, hot, cold or just want to take a break, just say so."

"Mm hmm," Ael agreed non-verbally, resting her forehead against her arms.

Reaching out, I positioned my left hand to stretch her skin, while with my right, I brought the tip of the stylus into position. Even through the polymer gloves, I could feel that Ael's skin was warmer to the touch than a Human's would be. Depressing the trigger, I activated the stylus, and its tip illuminated as it began to manipulate the pigment in her skin, darkening it immediately to the black hue Ael had requested in her messages.

"How was that?" I asked, as I always did after doing the initial line.

"Absolutely fine," Ael assured me, her voice muffled by her position.

"So tell me more about yourself," I invited. "I just realized we haven't really talked that much about your past, only what you wanted done and your scheduling conflicts."

"Well, I'm thirty seven, and tactical officer aboard the new USS Endeavour," she began, things I already knew. "I was born in the capital on Romulus, but as my parents were stellar cartographers, I spent most of my childhood going from outpost to outpost, so we were all off-world when Hobus went nova. My parents had a few colleagues in the Federation, and my mother had a great uncle on Vulcan, so they managed to get work at the Science Academy and we lived in ShiKahr. I applied to attend Starfleet Academy when I was seventeen, and was accepted for the following academic year."

"Did you still need a letter of recommendation?" I asked, settling into the procedure, and allowing my hands to move automatically, while I conversed with Ael. "I understand that non-Federation members need a letter of recommendation from a Starfleet officer to apply to the Academy, but as you were living on Vulcan, did that still apply?"

Ael shook her head,

"No, we were initially considered refugees, but granted citizenship three years later, so I was able to apply, just like anyone else."

While we talked, I had made considerable progress, and was already half-way done.
"I remember you said your parents relocated to Mol'Rihan?"

"You are a clever boy," Ael teased. "Did you read the name while looking up the text?"

"Hobus isn't exactly new or secret information," I replied, manipulating the tip of the stylus in a swooping motion as I finished the last of the glyphs on Ael's upper spine. "I could be tempted to take a trip there some time, maybe do some research into Romulan mourning tattoos."

"Well, I'd be happy to show you around," Ael replied. "Although my parents wouldn't want me bringing you home for dinner, they're actually still pretty traditional, despite everything."

"I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble," I said, as I replicated the stencil for the raptor's wings. "Can I get you to sit up straight for a moment? I need your shoulders in a relaxed position while I place the stencil."

Ael silently complied, and I laid the stencil in place. As we had discussed via inbox, the tips of the wings spread to the tops of the deltoid muscles, and slightly over the trapezius muscles.

"How do you find it serving aboard a Federation starship?" I enquired, changing my gloves before activating the stylus again.

Ael shrugged, and I quickly lifted my hand, so the stylus would not mark her skin.

"Oh, sorry!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry, I'll sit still. Serving on a starship... Not too bad, really, I mean sure, a few people just see the ridges on my forehead and look like they're about to douse their drawers, or that I'm going to eat their children, and there're a few who seem to think they have to be Super Formal and treat me as if I'm a Vulcan, but I can't complain. I've had no issues with delayed promotions or anything like that, and I've got to see some amazing sights over the years. I'm just really looking forward to shipping out on the Endeavour, given that it's one of the new Odyssey-Class cruisers."

"Are you going to be with the same crew?" I asked, sliding my chair so I could work on Ael's left shoulder, having completed the lines on the right. "I mean, if it's a new ship, are the crew from the last Endeavour being transfered over?"

"Mostly," Ael replied. "Of course, there's bound to be a few new faces, but for the most part, the Admiralty likes to keep command crews together when they have a good track record. Captain Atreides is a very stabilizing influence, it's a pleasure serving with him. How're we doing back there?"

"All done," I replied, scooting my chair over to the replicator for the final stencil. "If you want to hop up on the couch and get yourself ready, the stencil is cooking now."

"Hmm, should I take these off completely?" Ael deliberately wondered out loud, as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her uniform pants.

"Whatever you're comfortable with," I replied as casually as possible as I picked up the smaller, almost heart-shaped stencil. When I turned back, Ael's uniform pants were in a heap by the couch, and the waistband of her underwear had been rolled over. She was still decent, but it was clear that she was being genuinely inviting, which, after our online chats, was always nice when that connection transferred into the real world.

I positioned the stencil and changed my gloves again, before picking up the dermal stylus and returning to work.

"It's quite interesting to actually see the process," Ael commented, as I deftly drew the stylus over her skin, quickly etching the lines of the wings into her abdomen. "And addictive... I think I'm going to have to have more work done. Maybe my parents names somewhere..."

"Sadly, I've got another booking right after, or I'd say we could continue," I said, genuinely regretting that I would not be able to enjoy my new friend's company for longer. "But I was going to be staying open after hours tonight to do some work on my sister, I could get them written up if you'd like to come back then?"

"That would be ideal," Ael said as I filled in the last segment of the design.

Sitting up, she rolled her underwear back into place, covering the lower half of the winged design, before sliding off the couch to pull on her uniform pants.

"Now, about payment," she said, reaching down, to the holdall she had been carrying, and taking out a large bottle of Romulan ale. "I believe this was what we discussed..."

"Absolutely so," I agreed with a smile while I cleared up the work area, placing everything on the replicator tray to be recycled. "We'll open it later."

Last edited by marcusdkane; 04-19-2013 at 05:16 AM. Reason: Final polish...
Starfleet Veteran
Join Date: Jun 2012
Posts: 13,603
# 12
04-20-2013, 07:57 AM
*A small agricultural Colony at the edge of the Romulan Empire.

An ageing Romulan is tending the crops of his farm when a younger man walks over. The ageing man (Toramek) scowls at the dead vine at his feet.*

Toramek: Blasted Kali! How am I supposed to produce a meaningful harvest when every single one of my produce is dying in the fields?!

Younger man (Kortrel): Father...

*Toramek looks up to his son.*

Toramek: Yes Kortrel, what is it?

Kortrel: There's someone at the house to see you. It's an Officer.

Toramek: Starfleet or Klingon?

Kortrel: Romulan, father. Imperial Navy, by appearances.

Toramek: Probably a recruitment Officer.

*Toramek stands and walks with his son back to the house, where a Romulan Officer his age is standing at the door.*

Korak!

Korak: Jolan Tru, Commander.

*Toramek nods to his son, who walks inside.*

Toramek: I've been retired for 15 years, Korak. What does the Star Empire want from me?

Korak: I'm not here on behalf of the Empress, Toramek.

Is there someplace we can talk, in private?

Toramek: Of course.

*Toramek leads Korak into the cellar, turning on a jammer.*

I never thought we would need to take such measures in our own Empire.

Korak: In this case, I'm afraid it is necessary.

You have heard of Mol'rihan?

Toramek: Korak, I am getting too old for the games of politics...

Korak: Do you think they can survive?

Toramek: I neither know, nor care to know.

Korak: The Empress has denounced them as traitors--

Toramek: Get to the point, Korak!

Korak: Sela is sending 3 ships to attack Mol'rihan with Thalaron weapons. I cannot warn them because it would jeopardise--

Toramek: Korak! Are you involved with D'tan's people?!

Korak: You believe in the Republic as much as I do.

Toramek: I may be against Sela's warmongering, but I never said I supported the Republic!

Korak: Toramek, please!

Toramek: *Sighs* If you cannot warn them, what makes you think I can...?

No. I will not put him in that position Korak!

Korak: He can warn the Republic and save Millions of lives Toramek! You always said that your Duty to the people came before your loyalty to the state. Prove it.

Toramek: Very well, but this is the last time!

*5 hours later, Toramek is sitting in front of a Comm unit.*

Toramek: Computer, connect to Federation Comm network.

Computer: Connection established.

Toramek: Contact U.S.S. Excalibur, Vice Admiral Soval.

Computer: Stand by.

*The Image of a Vulcan Starfleet officer appears.*

Soval: Toramek?

Toramek: Jolan Tru, Admiral.

Soval: Live long and Prosper, Toramek.

What do you need?
My Fan Fictions
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Jul 2012
Posts: 147
# 13 The Engineer (Nahash #1)
04-20-2013, 12:14 PM
January 2411
On the uninhabited third moon orbiting Cirini Prime, Onias Sector


His wife called three hours ago to let the kids say goodnight to their father. She called again an hour later to complain about his devotion to work being stronger than his devotion to family. Now Nahash could finish his work in peace.

Tomorrow would be a busy day. The expendable shuttle D'Nash had been outfitted with external plating from the U.S.S. Columbus. The intensity of the experimental combined disruptor and antiproton beams would be oscillated in a way that the models said would increase the damage by two hundred and eleven percent. If the test worked, he would be the most celebrated Romulan researcher since D'thraan fifty-three years ago. If it failed, he'd crunch the numbers again and hope for success next time. The Rihanson Institute understood that great successes don't come quickly.

A squeak in the deck plating caught Nahash's attention. He turned around to see a man dressed in an unfamiliar suit.

"Good evening doctor Nahash," the man said evenly. "I am one of the benefactors of the Rihanson Institute, and I would like to talk with you about your progress."

Nahash turned around and looked towards his desk, where the emergency button was on the bottom side.

"Go ahead and push the button, but I have already disabled the security system. And please don't reach for the disruptor holstered underneath your chair. I only want to talk."

"Who are you?"

"Who I am is not relevant to this conversation. Who you are, and what you have done, is worth discussing. I have every confidence that tomorrow's test will be successful. Because of that, I would like to offer you an opportunity to work directly for me full-time."

Who would know about my alarm and weapon? "I don't know who you are. Why would I want to leave the Institute to work for you?" This man has me at a disadvantage.

The man smiled. "I am offering the opportunity of a lifetime. Tomorrow's test is the most complicated one you have attempted, and I assure your future projects will dwarf anything that you could have done here at the Rihanson Institute. You will be well paid, and your family will be taken care of.

"You are probably thinking about your children. Your salary will be tripled, which will allow young Bil'hesh to attend the private school you wanted to put him in, but couldn't afford. Your younger daughter will be able to enroll there also once she is old enough. Isn't this the best thing you can do for your children?

"I also understand that things are less than satisfactory with your wife. You do know why she calls you before 'going to bed' every two or three nights, right? That is her way of making sure that you don't come home. She doesn't want you to find her in bed with her colleague from the bank. Don't tell me you didn't know about that. You are a smart man."

Nahash's gut dropped inside of him. "You must be from the Tal Shiar."

"Who are the Tal Shiar? Has a mortal man ever seen them? I am merely a messenger, and here is my message. Go ahead and perform tomorrow's test and evaluate the data. In one week, be at the spaceport at noon. One of my associates will greet you and lead you where you need to go."

"And if I refuse?"

"We all know that you want what is best for little Bil'hesh and Sindari. If you do what I say, they will have their needs met. I'm sure that your wife will continue to take care of them as long as you don't call her out for her infidelity. All you have to do is take this opportunity.

"One last thing: if you refuse my offer, it might be hard for you to explain how you happen to have hull plating from the U.S.S. Columbus, eight pristine quantum torpedoes with U.S.S. Tuscaloosa painted on them, and a dozen or so Klingon firearms stashed behind a panel in the hallway. Are you collaborating with the Federation and the Klingons?"

The mysterious man disappeared in a transporter beam. Nahash fell to his knees. He passed out a few seconds later.

Exactly one week later, he followed a stranger at the spaceport, entered a small shuttle, and left Cirini Prime.

Last edited by superhombre777; 05-21-2013 at 07:58 PM.
Captain
Join Date: Sep 2012
Posts: 2,724
# 14
04-24-2013, 01:46 PM
Kovem sat down heavily onto the stool at the bar. The creaking sound alerted the Orion bartender and he looked toward the source. The Romulan replied with a small wave and the bartender nodded. Within moments a familiar clear red drink slid across the bar and stopped under Kovem's chin. That caused a brief smile to appear before the contents of the glass were washed down his throat. The red liquid burned on the way down and literally splashed into his stomach. The familiar sensation was reassuring, as if to remind Kovem that he was not in a nightmare he could not wake up from and that he was alive enough to try to change his lot in life.

What do you want?

The last words his father said to him haunted his memories and every other thought he had since then. It was a simple question, but the answer eluded him for years. Without an answer, the words taunted him at the same time because how can anyone not ... answer ... the question. It was frustrating.

Glory?

The Romulan Star Empire was a shadow of its former self even before the Hobus Event. Nowadays it's even worse, from a certain point of view. Sela wants to restore the Empire as it was; D'Tan wants to rebuild the Empire into something new. As long as these two factions exist then nothing will really happen. So, proud Romulans like him are stuck between two opposing forces. A choice will need to be made. Soon. It won't matter who is right, as long as a clear path is made. The Elements can then decide what glory there is for Romulans and Remans in the galaxy.

Kovem swallowed the last drops from his glass and ordered another round. The new glass slid and stopped like the first.

Fortune?

The galaxy has not place for entrepreneurs. The Ferengi are fools to try to think money is a compelling factor in anything worthwhile. Those who follow the Ferengi ways are idiots themselves. The galaxy is at war and those who seek to monetize from conflict will only find death. They deserve it, such scum. No loyalty except to the highest bidder or the greater largess. Scavengers are even worse! There is no sympathy to those who eke out some paltry existence from the sorrow or misgiving or others. But really, the pirates are the bottom-feeders of the universe. Pillaging, plundering and pilfering from anyone in their path. Piracy has little regard for law and true honor.

Kovem snarled into his drink and looked around to see if anyone was watching him. Seeing none he brooded further in his solitary quest for relief from the question that vexed him.

Revenge?

It's been years since the colony on New Romulus was attacked by the Tal Shiar. Little Biel'tan and Al'tioc - their lives cut short because of Sela's hubris and anger. The Romulans lost their homeworlds and one person - one half-Romulan! - decided those that did not stand with her were against her. Kovem's children weren't given the chance to choose and that seared at his aging soul. His wife, Iyasha, was inconsolable. But she chose a one-way path: she felt her purpose in life - to be a good mother - was gone, so her life had no purpose. He yelled to the dark stars above the ruins of New Romulus ... but no one listened.

Kovem's knuckles were white as he gipped the glass tighter. He stopped himself from destroying another bar glass. If the cursed Vulcan's had one thing right, it was their control of emotions could help keep a bar tab from getting bigger.

Duty?

...

Duty.

His eye widened and he sat up straighter and slowly.

One word.

In the many years since his father uttered his last breath, Kovem had not considered it. Was "duty" the legacy his father wanted to bestow upon his son? Why didn't he just say it? Why didn't he try to do something about it? Duty. The word solidified in his mind's eye. It pushed aside all other thoughts.

He looked around, hoping to wake up from a dream: hoping to find the inspiration to act: hoping the alcohol would evaporate from his blood so he could run.

Kovem kept looking around him, seeing the same faces he saw before minding their own business. He took account of his situation. After his wife's death, he jumped on a freighter and fled New Romulus. He did not take up arms, but instead found a place on the civilian crew of Drozana Station. The dirty place allowed him to hide from his past but he could not find his future. Maybe he lost his future in the throngs of miscreants, merchants, privateers, pirates, scavengers and scum.

Or maybe he just found it.

What do you want?

But there was more than the cold, expressionless idea of "duty". There was the warm and renewing feeling of hope.

Kovem smiled to himself and paid his tab in full, then walked toward the doors to the bar. He could see himself standing on the transporter pad, his destination to a vessel traveling away from this trash heap in space. The doors swished and creaked open and the hallway gaped open. He stopped, unsure where his next step would take him besides one step closer to the transporter room.
Kathryn S. Beringer - The Dawn Patrol

Solaris build - Veritatum Liquido Cernene

Last edited by cmdrscarlet; 04-25-2013 at 06:46 AM. Reason: Punctuation dagnabit
Rihannsu
Join Date: Jul 2012
Posts: 216
# 15
04-25-2013, 11:04 AM
Bryan touched the door chime for the door to the Athena's guest quarters. A second later, a soft voice whispered "It's open," over the intercom, and he stepped through the doorway.

Inside the Athena's relatively spacious guest quarters, a lone Romulan women sat in a chair facing the window. She glanced back before returning her attention to the window. She was very beautiful, her long, black hair in distinct contrast to most Romulan's shorter styles.

"You don't need to keep checking up on me Bryan." She whispered.

"I know," He replied sitting down in the chair next to hers. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for everything that's happened to you, Selana."

She looked over, a deep sadness playing through her green eyes. "It's not your fault. If you want to blame anyone, blame Sela and the Tal Shiar."

Bryan opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately cut off by the blaring of the Alert klaxons. Sighing, Bryan got to his feet and left for the bridge, followed closely by Selana.

*******

"Status," Bryan called as he sat down in the Athena's central chair.

"Three Romulan D'deridex class warbirds, directly off the bow, sir," Athena said, her holographic form shimmering to life nearby.

"They're hailing us, sir," Aara called from the comms station.

Bryan thought for a moment before replying "Put them through."

"Vice Admiral Valot," the Romulan captain said as he appeared on the screen. "I've heard a lot about you."

"What do you want?" Bryan replied icily.

"You are harboring a criminal on board your vessel. The same one that commanded that D'ridthau class warbird that we were pursuing."

"And?"

"And, on behalf of the Tal Shiar and the Romulan Star Empire, I hereby demand you turn her over to me."

"The Tal Shiar doesn't get to make demands of Starfleet," Bryan replied, anger flashing over his face momentarily.

"We outnumber you three to one."

"We out gun you by a wider margin than that. The Odyssey class was desgined to be able to compete with the Scimitar, so your numbers are effectively meaningless."

"She has committed crimes against the Empire. She is a criminal."

Bryan glanced briefly back at the Romulan women standing by the Turbolift. "She's also my sister."

*************

One day ago

Bryan sat in the command chair idly watching the screen. He had taken up the delta shift so that his third officer and chief Tactical officer, Lieutenant Commander Kerry Avalrez, a chance to get more command experiance. He got up and began pacing around the bridge, watching the other crew work their stations.

"Sir, we've got a ship decloaking nearby!" Athena called out suddenly.

"Classify!" Bryan replied.

"D'ridthau class warbird, sir!"

Bryan raced back to his chair and tapped the intercom button. "Attention all hands, this is the Admiral speaking. Red alert, all hands to battlestations, red alert, all hands to battlestations. This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill."

"Sir, they're hailing us," The delta shift comms officer called out.

"Really?" Bryan asked, confused.

"Yes, sir." She replied.

"Put them through."

The screen changed bfore Bryan's eyes, from a starry sky to the bridge of the Romulan vessel. Bryan could see that the ship had seen battle, as multiple cosoles had been blown out, wires were strewn across the deck, and several crew were visibly injured, including the Commanding officer, who had just stepped into view.

"I am Selana, of the Romulan warbird T'verix," she said, raw fear visible in her eyes, "and I hereby request asylum for my crew and myself."

*******

"How is she, syiseda?" Bryan asked, stepping into the sickbay.

The Betazoid doctor looked at one of the beds, where a Romulan women sat talking to one of the doctors. "Some small injuries, nothing too severe though. Mostly just light cuts that were easy to repair. Slight malnutrition, but apparently their replicators were damaged, so that's probably why. I do have one other concern, however."

"Go ahead, Lieutenanat."

"It's regarding her genetic structure. I ran a test on her genetic code just to make sure she would be receptive to standard medical techniques, and I found something rather," she paused, "Disturbing."

"Syiseda?"

"Sir, her genetic structure has a 50 percent match to yours."

Bryan stood there too stunned to speak. "Are you sure?"

Quite sure. You have a sister Bryan. Or, at least a half-sister. Syiseda whispered telapathically.

Does she know? Bryan thought knowing that Syiseda would hear his reply.

No. I was hoping you would.

Why do you always do this to me?

First of all, it's fun. Second of all, she's your sister, not mine. So she's your responsibility, not mine.

Did she tell you her age?

She's about two years younger than you are.

Bryan walked over to the medical bed that Selana was sitting on. "Could you excuse us for a moment, doctor?" Bryan said, and the doctor walked off. "Are you alright" Bryan asked her.

"I'm fine," She replied a little sadly. "By the way, I never got the chance to thank you for trying to get us amnesty."

"I never said anything about trying. I am an Ambassador as well as an Admiral. You have been guaranteed full amnesty. I could even expedite making you an official citizen of the Federation if you so wanted."

"Thanks but I'll pass for right now," she replied smiling a little for the first time.

"Never hurts to ask," Bryan said, smiling as well. "Can you walk?"

She got up from the bed. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you can stand. Walking is another matter entirely."

"Look, Bro-" She stopped herself quickly. "Bryan. Sorry. I'm fine."

The two of them walked out into the corridor. Silently, they strode through the halls to one of the Athena's multipurpose rooms. "You can stay in here while we preform maintenance on your ship. Let me know if there's anything else you need."

"Actually, I wanted to tell you something, Bryan."

"What is it?" He asked, stepping further into the room so that the door shut behind him.

"I'd imagine they haven't told you about this, and that if it has ever come up, they've denied it, but I'm-"

"You're my sister. I know. Syiseda told me. Related by father, correct?"

"Yes. Your father," she paused, "He was a different man when he and my mother met. You actually have a little in common with how mother described him. At least until she tried to tell him that I was his as well."

"I remember something like that. About twenty years ago, correct?"

"About then, yes. I was five years old at the time."

"Do you know how they met?"

"Your father was making a delivery on the colony world I grew up on, Vinirat. My mother was helping to unload the cargo when our father noticed her struggling to move on of the crates. Long story short, they spent a few noghts together, and when he left, my mother never heard from him again."

"Until she tried to tell him about you?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry Selana."

"Don't be. I never knew him, so I don't have any memory of him. The only one who mattered was my mother."

"How is she? Your mother, I mean."

"She was killed when I was almost ten by the Tal Shiar."

"Oh, I didn't know. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I've had fifteen years to come to terms with what happened."

"Well, anyways, I really should get back to the bridge. I'll be back later."

*************

Present time

Bryan watched as the lead D'deridex turned to engage the Athena, followed closely by the other two.

"Last chance, Bryan," the commander said.

"You have my answer," Bryan replied, looking patiently into the Romulan's eyes.

Suddenly, the channel closed, and the viewscreen changed back to the scene of the Romulan Warbirds.

"Emergency power to the shields, revrese shield polarity, and standby all weapons, but hold fire until I give the order," he called.

"Sir, they're cloaking," Athena called.

"Selana, tell your ship to cloak."

"You think they're going to try and attack my ship around yours?"

"Yes."

Bryan looked out one of the windows to where Selana's ship was. Suddenly, it shimmered faintly and dissapperaed from view.

"Sir, the Tal'Shiar vessels are decloaking right beside us," Athena called.

"Thryiss, fire at will on all phaser banks, launch quantum torpedoes, full spread."

The Athena leapt into action, phaser blasts lighting up the shields of the Romulan warships as the Athena's torpedo spread detonated around them. The Athena turned gracefully through space, beam arrays lancing out at the Romulan Warbirds and gradually wearing away their defenses. Eventually, the shields of one ofthewarbirds faltered, and the Athena's phaser banks began to cleave at the hull, creating multiple gashes as they did their work. The Athena spun around to face the crippled warbird, and a single quantum torpedo sped away from the torpedo tube. Shortly afterward, the torpedo slammed into the "beak" of the ship, tearing the ship apart. As its hull collapsed, the ship was suddenly enveloped in a sea of black, which rapidly expanded outward until the ship disappeared completely, at which point the unstble singularity the Rom;an ship had kept in check seemingly disappeared, until it dotonated, knocking the athena and the other two warbirds back.

"Damage report!" Bryan called.

"Minimal damage, structural intgrety holding at nintey-five percent, no risk for hull breach. Most of the damage is completely superficial," Six replied.

"Sir, the other two warbirds are retreating," Athena said. "Shall we pursue?"

"Negative. We accomplished what we set out to do. Selana, can your ship go to warp?"

"Yes, why?"

"Good. I'd like you to follow us to Starbase Nova Prime. I have an offer you can't refuse."

*******

Selana stood in her quarters, looking out the window to the Federation Starbase known as Nova Prime.

"You all right, Sel?" a feminine voice said behind her.

She looked back to see her first officer, a Remen woman named Veril, standing in the doorway. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just never thought I'd ever be in orbit of a Federation starbase is all."

"It is rather unusual. But we're also in some rather unique circumstances because of our work with D'Tan."

"Any word about if my brother got approval for us to join the fleet?"

"Yeah, he did. We are now an official auxiliary combat unit within the 1st Assault fleet."

"Good."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just-" Selana paused for a second. "He's not what I expected."

"Bryan, you mean? Well, what were you expecting?"

"I was expecting the cheery naivate of most Starfleet officers. He's nothing like that. He's knows that not everything can be solved with words alone. And yet, he's not willing to compromise his morals to win."

"He sounds a lot like you."

"I guess."

"Well, I'd best get back to it. I'll be on the Bridge if you need me."

"Of course."

Just as Veril turned to leave the room, Selana called out, "Veril, before you go, I wanted to say thank you, for being there for me for the past few years."

"Of course," The Remen said, smiling a little, "That's what I'm here for."

With that Selana turned back to the window. Thank you, Bryan she thought, smiling slightly. I know you're takeing a big risk for me and my crew, but I promise you, we will not betray the trust you have given us.
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; 04-25-2013 at 06:09 PM.
Ensign
Join Date: Jun 2012
Posts: 28
# 16
04-27-2013, 05:32 PM
"Nalah, give up. Plants hate you."

A loud snap punctuated Ael's sentence. Nalah stood up straight, half the handle of a spade in her hands, and sighed.

"And it's not the only thing."

Nalah narrowed her eyes at Ael and threw the broken handle at his head. He dodged it. He was good at dodging things.

She sighed again. She was no farmer. She knew it. Ael knew it. Even the soil of Mol'Rihan knew it.

She'd been fighting that soil for a while now and, she had to admit, it was winning. As long as the old rusted out gravity sled had been working, she'd been able to use it to pull a plow and the odds were at least even. But, a few days ago the sled started shuddering, lurched to one side, gave out a puff of smoke and finally died. Now it was little more than an ugly garden sculpture and she was reduced to turning the soil over by hand.

She looked at Ael again, a hand cupped behind one ear. "Don't I hear your mother calling?"

He shook his head sadly. "Oh, Nalah. You try that one every time." Then he smiled sweetly. "You know how much you like to have me around."

"Excuse me..."

Nalah spun, grabbing the figure behind her with one hand. With the other, she swung the edge of the spade up to its throat.

After a fraction of second, she realized with a sick feeling that she was staring into the wide-eyed face of the village Preceptor. She stepped back and dropped the spade, her hand still shaking slightly. She hadn't heard him walk up behind her. She was getting soft.

"I'm....I'm sorry, Preceptor Nov." Her heart was beating much faster than it should have been. Definitely soft. "I...well...I'm just a little jumpy today I guess. My apologies. Jolan tru."

Nov was a large man, which made it all the more humiliating that he'd been able to lumber up behind her. He must have made a racket walking up the hillside. But she'd been too focused on Ael, who was now loudly and unsuccessfully stifling a laugh. "Go on and do it again, Nalah," he whispered loudly.

"Ah, yes, well, apology accepted, of course," Nov said as he absently rubbed his throat. "Don't be concerned at all. We're all a little jumpy these days. I can completely understand."

"Thank you, Preceptor," she said, bowing her head.

Nov then turned his attention to Ael, who was still giggling. "As for you, young man, you should be off to school." His voice was especially harsh. "Go on. Join the other students now. I'll be along very soon. In the meantime, Nosath will be leading your calesthenics this morning."

"But...but, Nalah was teaching me about farming..." Ael protested.

"Enough!" The Preceptor said sternly. "Off with you, now! You young ones don't know the hardship ahead of you. Go, now!"

Ael reluctantly slid off the rock he'd been sitting on and began to walk down the hillside, shoulders slumped.

"Now, Nalah," Nov turned to her, his face still red from the climb up the hill, "I have something very important to talk to you about."

Everything Nov had to say was important, at least to him. Nalah scolded herself inwardly at the thought. She'd been talking with Ael too much. "Please continue, Preceptor."

Nov seemed to be calming down at her show of deference. "Yes, thank you Nalah. Do you mind if I sit?" He motioned to the same rock that Ael had perched himself on.

"No, please, Preceptor." She stepped aside and he walked past her and settled himself down.

After a moment to collect himself he began to speak. "I trust you've heard about some of the recent...attacks on the village?"

She had. A gang of thugs had ransacked one of the local homesteads several nights ago. The prevalent theory was that they had a hideout in the mountains and were coming down when they needed supplies. A few rumors suggested they were Tal Shiar, but Nalah had had enough experience to know if that were true, no one would be talking about them at all.

"Good, very good." He paused, carefully considering his next words. "Rinna told me that you'd been in the Tal Shiar."

For the first time, she looked straight at Nov, her eyes hard. "No. No, I was not, Preceptor. And I think I need to correct Rinna on that point before she tells anyone else..."

"Ah, I see. Well, don't correct her too harshly." His awkward joke drifted off into the silence. He cleared his throat. "Yes, well, you were in the Imperial Navy, yes?"

"Yes."

"Ah, good. Well, I've come asking for your help. The residents of this village are simple people. When I was a professor at the Imperial University, I came to understand them."

Nalah braced herself for another story about Nov's professorial days. But, thankfully, he continued on.

"Perhaps you saw many of them in your tours of duty. They're easy prey. They always have been. That was the value of a strong government, to protect the plebians..."

"With all due respect, Preceptor, and as much as I'd enjoy it, I doubt you came here to offer a civics lesson."

"Ah yes. Quite right, Nalah." He smiled at her. "Yes, we understand each other. Now where was I? Yes, I recall. We could use your help."

"With the attacks?"

"Yes, with the attacks. You have training that none of us have. We need someone to take charge of protecting the village, a strong hand to keep everyone in line."

Nalah cringed a little at his last statement, as if it had anything to do with protecting anyone. "I'm not a naval officer anymore, Preceptor."

"No, no, of course not. And I'm no longer a professor at the Imperial University. Life has changed for us all, Nalah." He paused. She saw the far-away look in his eyes and almost felt sorry for him.

"I'm no hero, Preceptor. I'm just a farmer now. All of us are."

"Yes, but..."

"I'm sorry, Preceptor. There's really nothing I can do to help."

Nov sighed deeply and stood. "I understand, Nalah. I'm sorry, but I understand. All of us lost so much..." He let the thought trail off. "Well, if you have a change of heart, please let me know." He stood and straightened his robes. "I wish you the best, Nalah."

She watched Nov walk awkwardly down the hill.

- - - - - - -

It was three days later that they came to her house. She was preparing dinner when they smashed though her door.

That was her first mistake, she thought. Anyone who knew anything would have showed up in the early hours of the morning. And they would have picked the lock, if the mechanisms on the doors of the local cottages counted as locks.

She turned, a frying pan in one hand and a knife in the other, and watched them file through the splintered door as if they'd achieved some major victory.

"Can I help you?" she said calmly.

That seemed to take a little bit out of them. The last one through was obviously their leader, if only because he had the least number of holes in his clothing. "Yes," he said with a smirk. "You can help us."

She decided she'd kill the one off to the left first. It would be unexpected. "What is it you want?"

The leader shot her a lopsided grin. Half of his face was scarred and one eye was a milky white. "A lot of things." He looked her up and down, while his men snickered behind him.

"What do you want?" she said again, adjusting her grip on the knife.

"We heard you talked with the preceptor the other day."

"And what of it?"

The leader of the thugs narrowed his one good eye. "He asked for your help?"

She saw no advantage to lying. "Yes."

"And you said no?"

Again, she weighed her choices. "Yes."

The leader took a step toward her, his hand on the pistol holstered at his side. "Good. You should have."

She was too busy calculating the chances that she could deliver a concussion with the frying pan before he drew his weapon to answer. Nalah was sure from the look in the leader's eyes that he was making the same calculation. He wasn't Tal Shiar, but he must have been military.

"Good," he said again, as if buying a little time. He'd come too close to her, and he knew it. "Good."

"And I'll continue to say no," Nalah said finally, "under one condition. You don't attack any of the homesteads within 5 kilometers of me."

She knew she'd taken a risk. She'd put him on the spot in front of his men. They were all looking to him now.

He looked around at the cottage as if he owned it. Still, she could see the fear in his eye. "Nice place."

She decided she'd be nice and offer him a way out. "There's a shed out back. It has most of my food."

Obvious, but maybe he'd accept it. His smile got more grotesque. "You don't say." He signaled his men and several slipped outside in search of the shed. "So I think we understand each other?" he said quietly.

"Yes," she said just as quietly.

He turned without any preamble and walked through her shattered front door. It was only when the silence of the night returned that she dropped the frying pan and started to breath.

- - - - - - -

Nalah was packing, stuffing clothes hapharzardly into her duffle bag when the Preceptor stepped through her door. She hadn't bothered to repair it.

Nov cleared his throat. "Nalah...Nalah?"

She continued to punch clothing...or whatever...into the bag.

"Nalah...have you heard?"

She turned, and slung the duffle over her shoulder. Instead of bowing her head, she gave Nov a hard stare.

"They attacked the homestead of Ael's parents last night. Shiya and Rast are both dead. Ael is in the village infirmary. If he doesn't have any brain damage, he may be ok..."

It was a message. To her. Now she knew they weren't Tal Shiar. A Tal Shiar would have accepted the deal, at least until something better came along.

"There was nothing you could have done. They're animals..."

She wished she'd had the old broken spade now. "Shut up."

Nov took a second to register what she said.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't." Nalah clenched her fists. "I'm not a farmer. And there's no more Imperial Navy. There's nothing. I was a fool to believe anything else. I've been on planets too long. It makes you soft."

She stared into Nov's wide eyes.

"And there's no Imperial University." She walked past him, slamming her shoulder into his. "Get used to it."

She walked down the hillside.

- - - - - - -

There was something appropriate about it, Nalah thought. She'd arrived on the planet in the capital city. And she was going to leave from here.

Mol'Rihan. The presumptuous of the name made her want to laugh.

But she didn't. She walked purposefully down the street, half-finished buildings to either side of her. Pedestrians, schooled by decades of life in a police state, recognized the way she carried herself and gave her a wide berth on either side.

The sounds of new construction filled the air, but she was deaf to them. She hated planets. She always had. She belonged in space. Perhaps she could find a position on a freighter, anything to get her back out among the stars. Things were simpler there, cleaner.

She nearly didn't notice the large Romulan male who stood in her path, like a large rock, even as the civilians parted. She decided not to kill him.

She stopped.

"Nalah Veris?" he asked.

She stared at him and he took her silence as affirmation. "Someone wants to see you."

"Fine," she said. She'd kill them, instead.

He turned and led her into a side alley. At first, it was crowded, filled with ramshackle stalls and bustling shoppers. She kept a hand on the knife on her belt as they moved through the crowd. Ordinarily, she'd be more circumspect, worried about harming an innocent civilian, but, she told herself, she didn't care anymore. No one was innocent.

They came to an alcove and the big male lead her in. They paused as he scanned his retina at a small wall console, then proceeded through a large metal door.

She tracked every twist and turn as they moved deeper into whatever structure they'd entered so she could find her way back out.

Eventually they emerged into a large room. There was a door on the other side, and a transparent aluminum booth beside it. She recognized automated guns lining the walls to either side. She'd have time to kill her escort. She took some comfort in the fact that her own end would be quick.

The male walked up to the booth and stood still for a moment. Something scanned him and the door opened. "This way," he said. She followed.

After a few more minutes, they arrived at an ordinary looking door. It slid open and she saw an ordinary room. In the center of it was a medium sized desk, and sitting at the desk an unexceptional Romulan male.

Her escort waived her in. She hesitated for a moment and then stepped in and took a seat in the chair facing the desk.

It was just her and the man behind the desk.

"I'm D'Tan," he said, matter-of-factly.

She sat silently. Of course she knew who D'Tan was. He was the reason she'd come to Mol'Rihan. Him and all of his promises. She clenched her fists as she sat there looking blankly at him.

"And you are Nalah Veris?"

She sat silently. He knew her name. She wondered what else he knew.

"We need your help, Nalah."

She nearly laughed at the serious look on his face.

D'Tan steepled his fingers in front of him, considering. Then he spoke again. "You may know, Mol'Rihan is not yet safe. We are under attack from many directions, though I believe that all these threats have their source in the remnants of the Tal Shiar."

He waited for her to respond, but she did not.

"We need someone like you to help us defend our new home..."

Finally, Nalah spoke. "Let me stop you there, D'Tan. I can't help you. No matter what you think. I'm no hero. I'm just a farmer."

"No, Nalah. You're wrong," D'Tan said slowly. "We're all heroes now. All of us. We have to be."

For the first time in as long as she could remember, Nalah had nothing to say. She stared at D'Tan, waiting for him to waiver or laugh or look away. But he continued to watch her.

She waited to speak until she knew her voice wouldn't crack. "I'm sorry. I'm not who you think I am. I've done things..."

"Yes, we know." D'Tan tapped a PADD on his desk. "I have your file right here. I know all about you, Nalah."

So, she thought, they brought her here to kill her. She relaxed a little at that. At least it would be over soon.

"And I don't care. Every Romulan deserves a second chance now."

Nalah looked at D'Tan for a long time.

Against all reason, she heard herself speak. "Alright."

D'Tan smiled and waited. He was still enough of a Romulan to know that more was coming. "And?"

Nalah smiled. It felt a little like the old days. "I need three things from you. First, there is a boy in a village infirmary. I need him to get the best medical help on the planet."

"Done," D'Tan said without hesitation. He tapped at a console on his desk and gave the order for a medical shuttle to be dispatched.

"Second, I want to name my own ship."

D'Tan considered for a moment. "Highly unusual, but I am willing to grant you this. And third?"

"Third, I need your help to make a deal..."

- - - - - - - -

Sorat and his men were waiting at the site their government source had indicated for the weapons exchange when they hear the whine of a transporter.

He'd expected to see a crate full of small arms materialize. D'Tan thought his government was so noble. But it was as full of corruption as the old Empire. A few bars of latinum he'd found in the secret compartment of a farmer's shack would buy him enough sidearms to take over the entire valley.

It took him a moment to register the five figures there instead, and a moment more to see that four of them had plasma rifles aimed at him and his men.

A viscous wind suddenly whipped across the rocky hillside where they all stood. Sorat looked up, shielding his eyes from the flying debris to see a warbird hanging there in the sky.

He laughed.

"So, Nalah, you think any of this is impressive?"

Nalah took a deep breath. The wind pushed at her, but she did not move. "I don't really care. Be impressed or not."

Sorat laughed again. "Such studied indifference. The rumors must have been right. You were Tal Shiar."

"Shut up," Nalah said quietly. Her voice could barely heard over the noise around them, but, still, Sorat and his men became still.

"You're going to kill us?" Sorat asked.

"You're going to leave this valley and never come back."

"Or what?" The smirk was back on Sorat's face. "Or what? If you aren't going to kill us now, you aren't going to kill us at all." She saw the hate fill his one good eye. "Besides, there's nothing you can do to me. You think you've lost so much?" He spat at the ground at her feet. "The Tal Shiar killed half my family. Hobus took care of the rest, and gave me this," he motioned to his scarred face, "to remind me."

Nalah said nothing.

"I know your kind." Sorat was screaming now. "You think you're better than us. You're not a Romulan. Go join Starfleet. Or the KDF, though I think they'd eat you alive. But you're not. You're not a real Romulan. You're not better than us."

Nalah just stared at him.

"And you know what you and your kind taught me? Only the strong survive." Sorat sneered at her. "Fine, fine. We'll leave. We'll move to another valley. And we'll do just what you'd do. We'll threaten everyone until we get our way. You're not better than us." He turned to walk away.

And he was engulfed by a flash of light.

Nalah had turned the energy level of her disruptor pistol so high, it was painfully warm in her hand.

"Elements forgive me," she said quietly to no one in particular. "I'll be better tomorrow."

Instead of holstering her disruptor, she trained it on Sorat's men. "Leave, now. If I hear anything about any of you, there won't be enough left for an epohh to nest in. Do you understand?"

The men nodded, and slunk away into the rocks.

Nalah's communicator chirped. "Captain. The Ael can't take much more. We need to leave the atmosphere."

"Very well," she said. "Beam us up once you're in orbit."

"Yes, sir."

She watched her ship streak away, up and into the darkness beyond the sky.

Last edited by fu11ofstars; 04-28-2013 at 06:11 AM.
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Jul 2012
Posts: 155
# 17
04-30-2013, 04:06 PM
Cur peered through the slit in the door at the combat ring. Gray blood from the last fight cooled in the garish colored lights shining from above the few hundred spectators seated and standing around the ring. The crowd thumped and roared as the adrenaline-soaked heartbeat of music pounder out into the arena.

"Welcome to my palace!" cooed a feminine voice over the music. "Show us what your toys can do!"

The crowd clapped as Lady Hedon entered and sat alone in a sky box back lit with pink and blood-red lights that contrasted her sparkling blue skin.

Cur punched his palm and cringed when the annoyingly full of himself announcer's voice came out of the speakers.

"Our first Entertainer is the man from the Darkest Space, Th'look!"

Another sky box lit up with dim greens and blues, revealing a masked figure with shadowy figures around him. The Entertainer Tips screen a little up bove the sky box lit up and started at zero, then counted up to 250.

"He is providing for us today Daurt, a Nausicaan who is an up and coming fighter who has won a few fierce battles so far!"

The number above Th'look went to 425 as Daurt stepped from a shadowy doorway into the combat ring, raising his spiked fists and growling.

"You are in for a treat today, for our other entertainer is none other than Edak!"

Another sky box lit up with strobing bright colors that morphed into a spotlight on a thin worm of a man with spiked hair and shining clothing. He waved with flourish and sat, his thick guards flanking him. The Entertainer Tips screen above Edak flashed on and instantly made its way to 5475.

"That isn't all, for today the arena will be graced by the scion of the shadows , the Reman with a broken world... Cur! "

The crowd shouted and the tips screen above Edak grew to 13,955. Cur spit out the bad taste in his mouth as the door in front of him opened and he stepped into the combat right. The Nausicaan glared at him, then Edak's tip screen, then back at Cur, and took up a defensive stance.

The music in the arena got louder and the announcer shouted something to get the match started. Cur took a few steps to the right. Daurt's most vital points and weak spots were covered with armor, but a lesser vulnerabilities were not covered by the slap-dash armor he was wearing. Cur jabbed a few times at the Nausicaan who somewhat sluggishly reacted, swiping away the weak attacks. Cur slipped a kick towards an exposed area of the leg and scored in a small hit. Daurt skipped back a pace. As Cur moved in, Daurt took a swing which was easily ducked. Cur landed a few more small blows, putting the Nausicaan further off balance.

Cur glanced up a Edak's tip screen. 14,235. Daurt swung again. Cur grabbed the arm and used Daurt's momentum to throw him spinning to the ground.

The crowd shouted. 17,235.

The Nausicaan jumped up quickly, growling curses. Cur dodged more blows, and landed many more light punches and kicks, moving carefully over the floor, the Nausicaan following him, throwing increasingly slower blows which Cur dodged with greater ease.

19,550 showed on the tip board.

Cur stepped in close and let loose a flurry of light blows to the few exposed weak points, bruising muscles and striking some nerves. The Nausicaan howled in pain, stumbling backwards. Cur moved away in a curve, eyes on his opponent, then he stood straight up and waited. The Nausicaan shook himself and spit, then glared at Cur. Cur yawned then started to turn away. The crowed chuckled. The Nausicaan screamed and rushed him. Cur stepped out of the way and shoved the Nausicaan, who slipped on the slick puddle of blood, and fell flat on his back. The crowd roared with laughter.

50,325.

The Nausicaan struggled to get up. Lady Hedon stood. The music's tone changed to something darker. Cur stepped up to the Nausicaan and with one heavy blow, shattered the bones in Daurt's right leg. The arena resounded with cheers. The tip screen ticked up to 100,345. Th'look's tip jar flashed red and the red symbol of Lady Hedon's medical team flashed.

The announcer came back on the speaker. "Oh, sorry Th'look, your tips didn't even cover the medical team's flat fee to fix up your wounded fighter!"

Edak's screen flashed green and ticked to 101,345.

"And of course, Edak gets a bonus for not even needing those same services!"

Lady Hedon clapped from her sky box and Edak bowed. Lady Hedon winked, and blew him a kiss. The crowd gasped. Cur cringed and stared at Edak, the knuckles on his fists turning white.

Cur slipped back into the darkened corridors as Daurt was carried off on a stretcher.

---

In the dank living area, Cur sat, sipping tepid soup from a rough wooden bowl, bit of sour bread sticking to the side. A young Romulan woman, around his age he guessed, came up to him out of the mingling groups of other Romulans and a few Remans.

"Excuse me ..."

He looked up and Cur saw her face, illuminated by light from the small window above him. Her cheeks reddened.

"Can I help you?"

"I, I wanted to thank you. I have heard you talking, I know you hate fighting for Edak, but we appreciate the extra food your ... performances bring us."

Cur nodded. The girl just stood there. He looked at her expectantly. "Uh, I, uhm ..."

"What is your name?"

"Charva."

"Well Charva, if I knew my real name anymore, I'd tell you, but I don't. They took that from me. What did you want to ask?"

"How did you learn to fight?"

Cur sat down his bowl and sighed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ..."

"No, it's OK. I was trained from a young age to be a bodyguard by the Tal Shiar. I was assigned to a scientist who studied agriculture, how to make things grow, and how to make growing things die with biological weapons. But he decided he didn't want to work for the Tal Shiar anymore and ..."

Charva gasped. "He turned against the Romulan Empire?"

Cur shook his head. "No, not from his perspective. He wanted to help his people, not use his knowledge to destroy other people's lives. He escaped and went into seclusion. We had started a small colony on a moon and after some years, the Scientist, D'Luune was his name, learned of Spock's warning about the Hobus star and we boarded the few ships we had and fled into space with no home. We had been far enough away to escape, but everything we knew burned up behind us."

"I know what that feels like."

Cur nodded. "We all do."

"So, you were on one of the smaller ships that joined our fleet, before we were attacked and captured?"

Cur nodded. "Yes, I ..."

Something fell down from the window and landed near Cur. He picked it up. It was a small cube with a holoemmiter on one end, and a button on the other.

"Some kind of message?" He pressed the button.

A green hued display appeared showing a date and time, the words "Be ready", and was signed TK.


Cur turned off the device. "That is when Edak is going to put us on display and sell the ones he doesn't want anymore. Looks like this TK has other ideas.

---

Cur stood in the display booth, feet set apart so he wouldn't lean and touch the agony field that shimmered with a red hue. Even still he felt the slight touch of the energy field. Several shoppers looked over him, but as he was not for sale, they didn't linger. They did however linger over many of the others, mostly Romulans. but a few other species as well. Many of the shoppers had dark gleams in their eyes. Gleams that come from watching the sport of other people dying, gleams farm dark appetites. Cur analyzed each deciding the fastest way he knew how to kill them. If they were a species he used his vivid imagination.

A new group of hooded figures came in, perusing the wares. Cur noted the guards taking notice, tensing up. One figure came up to Cur and held out a hand. There was a cube in it. It activated and for a brief moment words flashed above it. "Hello, my name is Tovan Khev. When the red light blinks, close your eyes -TK". Then the hand retreated into the cloak, but the figure's boot tapped against the base of the display booth. Then this Tovan Khev turned off to examine elsewhere, taking interest in many of the display booths. Cur noted some of the figures acting in distracting ways, while others more subtly tapped their boots against many of the display booths. A small device that blended in was left behind. After a several minutes, Tovan spit. "Rubbish goods. Let's go!"

They left.

The remaining shoppers shrugged, whispered to each other, and eventually forgot about it.

The guards relaxed.

Edak came in and started personally describing the finer details of some of his merchandise.

He was noting the fine figure of Charva when on every display a boot had touched a red light blinked. Cur shut his eyes. Even through his closed eyes a bright light shone. He felt the absence of the agony field and he opened his eyes leaped off the booth. The nearby guard was scrambling for his weapon while blinking. Cur dropped him with a sharp chop to his cranium and then shoving his knee into his lower abdomen that housed the lungs. The cloaked figures were rushing in, cloaks removed. They were Romulans. Guards shouted and fell. Edak slipped out through the commotion. Cur followed.

Edak snaked away down corridors. Cur slipped out of sight into shadows when Edak turned to look for pursuit, then continued following. Edak turned a corner and Cur went faster to catch up. He stopped short at the corner when he heard voices.

"Lady Hedon! What a pleasure to see ..." "What is going on Edak. I heard yours slaves are escaping, and you are running away?" "Oh, no, I was going to get help!" "I will help. Lead the way." "Yes ... as you say ... this way."

Cur leaped out, grabbing Edak around the neck.

"Please, no, what are you ..."

Cur tightened his grip, choking off the words. He pulled Edak, putting him between himself and Lady Hedon.

The woman shook her head. "You've lost control of your little toys, Edak."

Cur felt the man wriggling, trying to get free. "Please, it has never happened before!" Cur kept him close and secure, but let him speak. The pleading was music, and might even turn into groveling, which would be melodious. "Lady Hedon, please, I've worked so hard for your favor, so hard to ..."

"Quiet! You mean nothing to me anymore. You aren't even half the ... man ... I thought you were. You will be stripped of all status for this."

A Romulan walked up beside Cur, rifle pointed forward. "This is her, huh? Not well protected for figure of such high status." Lady Hedon smirked. "If I die, this whole rock goes with me. You with it." Tovan raised the rifle. "That so?" Edak struggled again. "It's true! Don't!" Then he slumped. "Just kill me, please."

Tovan looked over to Cur. "Well, you've been here more than me, is she for real?"

Cur shoved Edak into an alcove. Lady Hedon laughed. "You can't even get him to kill you when you asked politely." Cur grabbed her around the neck. "We'll be back for you." Then he pushed her away. "Let's go."

Tovan nodded. "Not much time to get out before reinforcements come, both here and in space. They turned and started away. Edak shouted. "You're a monster!"

Tovan lead the way to their exit. "Better than being a cur."

---------------Alternate, my preferred, ending---------------------

Cur lifted Edak higher, tightening his grip. "You enslaved my people, and used their hunger against me as they starved, forcing me to fi ..."

Lady Hedon sighed "Spare me, please. It's embarrassing. Put him down."

Cur shook with anger. "I will have me vengeance!"

Lady Hedon shook her head. "No, you will not." With a flick of her wrist, a long thin blade was at Tovan's neck. "Leave him to me, and you can go so long as you do as little damage to my house as possible. Otherwise I will have you both killed and everyone with you will sit below in cells until they die."

Cur dropped Edak. He landed sideways on one leg, which crunched. Edak screamed "You monster!" A dark stain began to form on Edak's pant leg.

Lady Hedon flicked her wrist and a slice of pain cut across the side of Cur's face. She scowled. "I said not to break my things!" Sne knelt and caressed Edak. "That is my job." She looked up at Cur. "Now leave."

Tovan searched a few pouches on his belt, then shrugged. "Thought I had a dermal regenerator. Anyways, I guess we had better go."

Cur stood for a long moment, staring into the eyes of Lady Edak, then he turned and walked away, images of both her's a Edak's death playing in his mind.

---

Aboard the Ship Tovan and the other Romulan's came in on, the sensor officer looked up, worried. "There are a whole bunch of warships that weren't here a moment ago."

The Romulan at communications spoke up. "They said he needed to leave. Now."

The Captain looked up to Tovan and Cur. "I guess she meant it, and we can leave. Let's go."

Tovan clapped Cur on the shoulder. "Let's go get something to eat."

They walked off the bridge and Charva was waiting. "Oh, Cur, hello."

Cur nodded. Tovan smiled. "Hello! New here?"

She nodded. "Yes, I was down there with Cur. I wanted to make sure he was OK,"

Cur nodded. "I'm fine."

Tovan pointed down the hallway. "Food is down that way, how about we all get something to eat? I'm Tovan, by the way."

"Charva"

They started down the hall.

"Speaking of names, Cur? What sort of name is that. I saw you fighting before we broke you out. That Edak guy, just doesn't know how to name people. First it was Cur, then he called you Monster ..."

"Monster." He smiled. The cut on his face stung with pain. "I like that name. I'm free now. I'm a free monster."

"Monster?" Tovan scratched his head. "I don't get it. How does that fit?"

"Because if anyone tries to abuse any of us every again, that is what they will discover me to be."
Chewson Pwan - VA
S.S. Doff Lundgren

Last edited by chivalrybean; 05-21-2013 at 04:44 PM. Reason: New ending
Former PWE Community Team Lead
Join Date: Jun 2012
Posts: 9,046
# 18
04-30-2013, 06:46 PM
I'm going to extend this challenge for another two weeks If you are going to be making multiple Romulan Republic characters, feel free to break the rules and make additional posts in this thread if you'd like to flesh out their background stories.

Cheers,

Brandon =/\=
Brandon "BranFlakes" Felczer | Former Community Team Lead for Perfect World Entertainment
Commander
Join Date: Jun 2012
Posts: 419
# 19 Run
05-02-2013, 01:06 PM
Here is my second entry, thanks to the relaxing of the 'one post' rule. Enjoy!

____________________________

He ran through the back alleys, the darkness of night as much something he craved as dreaded. Between the tall buildings and puddled streets, he desperately fled a doom that only nightmares could justify.

Jumping over a fallen pile of debris, the man stumbled and fell as he landed. His hands slid painfully on the durastone pavement, and his head stuck one of the waste receptacles that had been carelessly left just beyond, causing his cry of pain to be lost in the clatter of metal impacting the ground all around him. In terror, he scrambled blindly to an alcove and pressed his scraped hand to his mouth to keep from screaming, looking back the way he had come.

From a distance that was hard to judge, he heard the electronic pulsing that marked the Watcher, and knew the time granted by his chaotic dash through the city had only delayed the pursuit. The machine would not stop, and would continue searching methodically until it picked up his specific DNA trail. Then it would come like death itself, which it was.

Taking a brief moment to gasp precious air, the man felt as though his chest would burst from the hammering of his heart. Pressing his free hand to it, he begged the Five for a moment of rest. His thoughts spun with the lightheadedness of oxygen lack, and the building against which he leaned was all that kept him from toppling over into the mud and grime. As he sat, he thought about what he had seen.

As a trained Science Officer for the High Command, he had never once doubted he would find a place in the Fleet. After all, officers such as he were the eyes of every ship, the ones everyone turned to when something new needed explaining. However, the great number of officers seeking any posting and the smaller number of ships available worked against him, and he had found himself cast out of the Military shortly after his graduation from the Great Hall. And Rator III was no place for a rihannsu without a duty to perform.

He drifted among the civilians, trying to find employment but learning very soon that he had not received training for any of the work expected of that level of society. The various lounges and drinking centers had provided both a place to watch the periods pass and a quick means for reducing his credit supply to almost null quantity. At length, his ragged clothing and long hair made him indistinguishable from the various other outcasts and havrannsu that survived in the cracks between the monumental buildings of the capitol, just another unneeded and often intoxicated waste of the Empire's space. He knew his life had descended to a level below that where his family could help him, where even speaking to him would cause a loss of face to the others in their tier of society. He would not bring down them as well, and he resigned himself to the fact that there was no farther he could fall.



Until the night he stumbled back to the junkyard that served as his home to witness something far worse. There, in the center of the stacked bins of recycling metal, he had seen the black assault shuttles of the Tal Shiar parked in a ring around the huddled forms of the others who lived there. Ten of the feared secret police were holding them by their arms in the floodlights of the vehicles, and the man carefully concealed himself from sight before they noticed him as well. Raids and arrests had increased recently, and this seemed no different than others he had heard of.

Until the Tal Shiar produced strange dual-pronged hypos the man recognized all too well and began injecting the prisoners. Immediately, they began to convulse, their skin turning grey and their mouths gaping. As he watched, their eyes seemed to lose focus, and their struggles became only twitches. And when the Tal Shiar told them to stand and board the shuttles, they did so as though they were nothing more than androids.

The man knew what he had seen, and it filled him with unprecedented fear. That the Tal Shiar would use Borg technology was something whispered among candidates at the Great Hall, but he had never imagined they would begin using the Borg assimilation process on other rihannsu. It was simply beyond conception, a violation of everything the Empire had stood for since the beginning of the Glory Road.

In his shock, he had revealed his position, and the Tal Shiar had not been slow to attempt to silence him. The frantic escape he had accomplished had kept him alive for several days, but they had dispatched a Watcher now. The robotic hunter units moved on anti-gravity units and had become a too-familiar sight in recent months. The man-sized machines emitted a pulsing electronic shriek that told all that this was a servant of the Tal Shiar, and interfering with it or trying to aid the target of these units would be a lethal mistake. The Watchers were the ultimate proof that the secret police wanted someone found and executed, and they performed their task with mindless dedication.




With that thought, he heard the Watcher coming closer, and he stumbled back to his feet. The repeating, upward-screeching tone was also a message to the target, letting them know their hunter was closing in, and often pushing them into panicked mistakes or complete insanity long before the final confrontation. As a trained officer, he did not panic, but that did not mean fear failed to grip his very being. He had seen what the robot had done to the drinking center where he had attempted to hide after his discovery, and knew that if the machine gained sight of him, it would be enough to end his running. Plasma beams traveled slower than light, but not much slower. Certainly faster than his muscles could propel him.

He chose a stairway going down, and leapt them with fear-weakened haste. This section of the city held many ruined buildings, and he knew his best chance would be the abandoned concourses below ground level. The city had grown too fast after the Hobus incident, and much of the undercity had been built and then left to fall apart. Sensors were mostly a luxury in the sections no one had a use for, and this offered a chance to escape.

As he touched the bottom and stood bent over catching his breath, he stumbled again and collapsed in a heap. Escape? To where? The Tal Shiar controlled the entire planet! He might make it to a sublev and then ride to another city, but they would simply be waiting for him there. If he tried to pass into the limited wilderness still left to exist, they would still come with their Watchers and shuttles, if the wildlife didn't end his flight first.

It was hopeless, and he simply did not have any more strength to push further.

"You really need to stop being so fatalistic. It's going to get you killed one of these days."

The voice startled him so violently that he scrambled back on his hands and knees until he could see the man standing over him. The rihannsu was middle-aged, and wore a Centurion's uniform, but the casual stance of the man seemed out of place for a soldier. More, the eyes of the stranger seemed a mixture of foreboding and sarcasm that further eroded the image the uniform was meant to convey.

And hadn't the old sublev platform been empty a moment before?

"You people always make noticing the obvious seem like an accomplishment worthy of the Praetor's Citation." the stranger said in a mocking tone. "I expected better of you, Citizen Tosik. At the very least, a 'who are you?' or 'why do you say that?'. Aren't Science Officers supposed to be nosey?"

Tosik blinked as his mind made several connections despite his shock. In a shaking voice, he asked "Who...are you?"

"Well, that's better. At least you know when to take a hint." the stranger looked over at the stairwell as the sound of the Watcher increased. "Which is more than I can say for some things around here. Maybe I should just leave and let you two work out things on your own?"

"No!!" Tosik half-screamed, choking on the word as he realized it would only bring the robot faster. "Please! If you can do something about that thing, then do it!"

"Oh, maybe I will. As a favor to that meddlesome Captain. Always getting into trouble, that one." The stranger seemed to consider Tosik "Not that I enjoy the idea. I've enough to do without stepping into the affairs of your little Empire."

"Please!" Tosik brought himself to his knees, summoning his strength and calming his voice as best he could "Keep them from finding me!"

The stranger gave Tosik a half-grin that any rihannsu would have known. It was the same one the superior in an agreement gave to the inferior when it was known the later could not refuse the offer about to be made. "And if I do? What do I get out of it? What would you do for me?"

Tosik swallowed, knowing his next words would determine his fate. "Anything."

The stranger's smile bloomed to full satisfaction. "Done!" and he raised his hand. Snapping his fingers, there was a bright flash and...



Tosik found himself kneeling before a startled woman. While his own shock mirrored hers, he saw that she did not jerk backwards involuntarily as he did, but merely stepped backward slightly in what he noted was a small room with a central control pillar. He knew this room, had dreamt of it for years.

He was on the bridge of a warbird!

The stranger was seated on a nearby railing, in a posture that was anything but proper. He gave an elaborate bow to the woman. "Mon Capitan. I present you with your new Science Officer."

The woman turned her gaze to the stranger, her eyes becoming slits. "Q! What is this? Another of your games?"

"Oh, hardly. This fellow just told me he'd do anything to escape the foul, evil clutches of the Tal Shiar, and I just couldn't help but notice your ship is one crewman short." The man raised one eyebrow in a way that made him seem almost Vulcan. "That -is- why you're still in dock, isn't it?"

The woman nodded slowly, never taking her eyes off the man. "Leaving aside the fact that it was your own actions that cost me my Science Officer, I don't see any reason to trust that was your reason in coming here. You've never had our best interests in mind before. Why this man? Why my ship?"

The stranger leaned forwards, his previous levity gone in a flash as he locked eyes with the woman. "Because this ship has a very important role to play in the events about to play out, and that role is not to be sitting here for the next three months while the High Command decides which of its officers to punish by sending them to you. So I decided to both pay off my debt to you, and get you back where you belong."

The woman regarded Q for a moment before turning back to Tosik. "I expect my Subcommanders to follow proper decorum. You are..." she glanced at his ragged clothing for a moment before finishing "...out of uniform."

At her hand motion, a Centurion came forward and guided Tosik to the nearby turbolift. As the doors closed, he heard the one called Q say "You Romulans. Always so concerned with appearances! I understand now why Q spends all his time among the Humans. And these ears...."




The Centurion gave a short bow to Tosik as the lift descended. "I am Centurion First Rank L'voss. Welcome aboard the warbird R'uhuv. It appears you will be joining us?"

Tosik nodded distractedly, his mind sharpening as it hadn't since...well, since he had lost his dream of serving in the Fleet. This was a T'liss class warbird, a relic of the days before the Klingons had provided new designs for the rihannsu to adapt. Its single plasma torpedo was still a fearsome weapon, and he knew many of these ships had received extensive refitting with singularity drives and more current technology.

He looked at the Centurion, and noticed the uniform did not match what he expected. The man wore clothing more of what Tosik would have thought of as frontier gear than a ship's uniform. With a sinking feeling of dread, he asked "You are not part of the Imperial Fleet, are you? Are you...Tal Shiar?"

L'voss shook his head. "We serve the Republic. The Tal Shiar are not welcome among us. Does this upset you?"

Almost sagging against the side of the lift in relief, Tosik said "No. No problem at all. Whatever this 'Republic' is, it sounds like someplace I would not mind living at all."

L'voss nodded as the lift arrived and the door opened. "I will make the data files available to you, as you will be our new Science Officer, should my Commander so approve. It will be good to have a full crew once more." He gestured and escorted Tosik down the corridor beyond.

As they walked, Tosik realized he was standing straighter, moving with more confidence. He felt as if he were coming out of a long, dark storm into the day beyond. He felt...needed...again. With a purpose, even if only a temporary one should the Commander not chose to accept him.

Stopping at a door, the Centurion palmed the control pad. It opened to reveal a small but well-kept cabin. "This will be your quarters. The replicator will provide you with a suitable uniform. When you have finished refreshing, notify me, and I will take you to see my Commander. No doubt she will wish to speak to you at length."

Before he stepped into the room, he gave the soldier a frank gaze. "The Commander. She seemed very unimpressed with that 'Q' person. Even though he obviously has some impressive abilities that I've never seen the like of. She has encountered him before?"

"We have suffered his presence on this ship several times." L'voss grimaced "The last time, he sent us all into the middle of a temporal loophole that had us eating the same meal over and over. That's what caused our previous Science Officer to leave the ship."

Tosik stared in shock as the Centurion held the door open for him, his mind trying to sort and understand all the ramifications of what he had just heard. He shook his head in amazement. "And this does not cause her to treat him with caution, at the least? I thought she was about to order him shot!"

L'voss gave the impression of a shrug, even though his military discipline kept anything so crude from the soldier's actual conduct. "I understand my Commander was a vest'ualu before assuming command. No doubt communing with the Five on a daily basis made other celestial beings...mundane."

After a moment, Tosik stared back into the room before him. Once he stepped into that room...his quarters...he knew the reality of where he was would finally settle on him. There in the room ahead lay the future, and in a flash, he saw it before him. He would do as instructed, find the uniform of a Subcommander and go see the Commander. She would offer him a position aboard, and he would accept, starting his own Glory Road with this ship and crew. He would find challenge and terror, joy and tears, and the satisfaction of performing his duty. He would face his deepest fears, be tempted by his farthest dreams, and called to account for his actions before his superiors.

Most of all, he would have purpose.

With no more hesitation, he stepped into the room.

Last edited by danqueller; 05-02-2013 at 04:28 PM.
Ensign
Join Date: Jan 2013
Posts: 1
# 20 D'Nal Lovok
05-02-2013, 01:13 PM
My name is D'Nal Lovok, you've likely heard that name before. My grandfather was a Conel in the Tal Shiar, prior to the Dominion Wars, and joint leader with Enabran Tain to attack the Dominion, he would of saved the quadrant if he had won, but acording to federation records, a changling had replaced him, either way, he died a patriot. He had two sons, Khaiel my uncle, and Aerv my father, my Uncle worked for many years with the Tal Shiar, while my father led many missions in the dominion war, including the battle of Benzar.
Years after the war, I was born on Romulus, just months prior to Shinzon's coup, I lived on Romulus until the age of five, the year my uncle left the Tal Shiar, instead turning to the reunificationists whom were fleeing to Cirini Prime, my family was lucky, if it hadn't been for my uncle's training, we would of never escaped. We escaped with sixteen other refugees cramed in a small shuttle, only half were Romulan, the other half Reman refugees, even though my uncle had worked for the Tal Shiar he had no anamosity toward Remans, in actuality, he adopted three reman children, a brother and sister, and an infant boy he'd saved from his last mission to the Tal Shiar, the main reason he quit, being sick of all the unnessesary death.
On Cirini Prime my family lived as farmers for a time, a span of about three and a half years, even witnessing the fall of homeworld. I remember everyone crying alot it those days, a lot was lost in that day, Not only the homeworlds of Romulus and Remus, but every colony within range of the Hobus supernova, unknown billions, the entire homefleet, and for the reunificationists ambassador Spock, my mother was most saddened as her brother, the only family she had left, perished with a mining ship, the Narada. But at least our family on Cirini Prime was safe, too far from the destruction, and life goes on.
With the destruction of our homeworld, and many members of the fleet fighting for power, an invasion was imminent, the klingons, blood enemy to my people at the time, they saw weakness in our civil war, and began invading several worlds at the edge of our space, and raiding planets deep into the empire. Our biggest fear was that they would attack our colony, and the fronlines seemed ever closer as time passed, so we left Cirini to head to Rator III, a new homeworld with a powerful defence grid. As our convoy arrived each family had to choose, one member to join the defense force, in exchange we'd be allowed to settle. My father joined as he'd survived the Dominion war, commanding a Mogai attack cruiser, we wished him luck as we settled in, opening a small resteraunt near the edges of the Reman district serving both species.
My uncle was a great chef strangly enough, he told me he'd gained the skill from having to poison many enemies during the days he served the Tal Shiar. My uncle helped many romualns and remans during the protests and riots, listening to secret military information. He was a leader to some in the reunificationist movement, preaching that we must instead unify with our Reman brothers rather than our Vulcan cousins. After eight years on Rator III we fled again, the Tal Shiar had found us, they assasinated my father, and then came after us, we escaped with help from our reman friends. In hiding my family was able to move more freely, serving on a Federation freighter visiting Earth, Vulcan, Bajor, Cardassia, Q'onos, and everywhere else in between. Uncle Khaiel often disappered for months on end in a romulan shuttle, leaving me, my mother, and my cousins, alone on the freighter with only a small federation civilian crew to keep us safe. As we traveled I learned to hate Vulcans, they use their precious logic way to much, no way to win in an argument against them, sometimes I just wanted to strangle them, except for one thing, there stregth and numbers, only thing I had was my cousins keeping me out of a fight.
We spent almost a decade on that freighter, in 2406, with the Federation at war again, this time with the klingons we were unfortuate enough to be behind enemy lines as we were delivering supplies to Boreth when we were attacked, most of the crew were slaughtered after our sheilds dropped, and my uncle saved everyone his shuttle could fit, but it was too late for my mother, she died in my arms after a klingon disruptor blast, the klingon that killed my mother died quickly, as my uncle had set the ship to explode, which took the bird of prey with it.
After delivering the federation crew to Seirra Outpost we buried my mother at the remains of the homeworld, she would of wanted it that way. We returned to Romulan space later that year, a small agricultural colony, my Uncle was invited by D'Tan to start something new, he left to join D'Tan's fleet in hopes of founding a new homeworld, and my cousins went off helping Obilisk with his insurrection. For years I lived on the colony as an engineer, only now do I command a ship to help the Republic. Now my uncle he works as a department head of intelligence, my cousins are working on building on the infistructure of the capital city on this New Romulus for their people the Remans, and as for me, I've followed in my father's path, I now command a ship in a new fleet, working with both the Federation and Klingons to find a peace, and a new start for my people.
"Centurion, our guests have arrived." My Reman second officer said entering the room "A Klingon captain Rynor, and a Federation Admiral Kaav, there waiting in the mess hall when your ready."
"Thank you V'hiren, continue your security scans for both the tholian and hirogen vessels you detected, make sure they don't head this way. Also, if they do, make arrangments with the klingon ship and the starfleet vessel to include them inside our cloaking feild, we don't want a fight on our hands."
"Yes Centurion."
As I entered the mess I could see the two other captains, Vice Admiral Kaav of Vulcan, captain of the Andromeda, and Rynor captain of the Ye'thak.
"Welcome Commanders, I'm glad to see that your ships aren't attacking each other for a change."
"That's half due to your bloodwine." Rynor spoke up. "I know why you asked for myself and the Ye'Thak, but why did you invite this pa'tack."
"I requested you Rynor because of the time your family spent with mine, before the war, to show I have no animosity towards the Klingon emoire, as the same for Vulcans, as I don't hate all Vulcan's either, as the reason I requested Kaav, a high ranking starfleet Vice-Admiral.
Kaav nodded, the same old vulcan look I hated so much, Vulcans, repressing emotion, I still have no clue what D'Tan sees in these people, but for some reason D'Tan had me invite him.
After several hours of diplomacy and three bottles of Bloodwine and Romulan ale we were no closer to a decision. "Centurion, we've detected several Hirogen vessels inbound heading this way."
"I understand, put on Red Alert."
"Also, I've intercepted attack orders to the Hirogen, a taskforce of twelve Tal Shiar and Hirogen vessels are going after one of our colonies near the Azure Nebula."
"We can't allow that, signal the fleet." With that I ended the call. Captain, Admiral, if you could help us."
Rynor almost immediately nodded agreeing, "Warriors of the Empire, prepare for battle." he spoke into his intercom. Then with the red glow of the transporter the captain vanished.
"How about you Admiral." I looked over to the vulcan drinking his spice tea.
"This is a Romulan internal affair from all looks of it, as the Emperess invited the Hirogen."
"Well Admiral, here is the situation, the Republic is divided in two, half want to help the Klingons and half the Federation, if a Federation Starship with Dominion weapons and Breen Shields allowed our colony to be destroyed while the klingons fought valiantly to protect our planet, the favor of the federation would suddenly fall."
"Are you threatening me Centurion, or the Federation." the Admiral looked up.
"No Kaav, I wouldn't, I'm just stating fact Euigenier." With that the Admiral looked up in almost shock, the only time in history I'd ever seen a Vulcan loose face. "Yeah you heard me, my Uncle is with intelligence, and you are with the Euigenic fleet, the side of starfleet that believes in integrating alien tech into your starships, so based on fact I say it's in your best intrest to help the republic."
The Admiral nodded and then touching his combadge was beamed away, with his ship moving into position.
"Excellent finally something going right. Centurion's personal recording, in case I don't make it back, D'Tan, I suggest the republic remain free of the Federation Klingon war, but if we must join a side, I suggest the Federation, nothing against the Klingons but I fear ending up like the Gorn, a conquered race. End Log." Hopefully we do survive this battle.
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