OOC: Funzies time. This is what I love about not being attached to the timeline.
*Five minutes later. In space (if that's even applicable) outside of the space-time continuum, the power on the Red October and the 30 temporal ships flicker on for a billionth of a second.*
Vranlek: The ship just turned on.
*Voporak, sitting in his chair, turns around*
Vranlek: One of the thousands of numbers on the temporal core's control screen just changed.
Voporak: So we're going somewhere.
Vranlek: Yes. Very soon.
Voporak: Alright then. Let's get this show on the road, shall we? All hands to stations, prepare to go... somewhere completely not where we expected to go!
*OOC: After everyone posts I will be kicking off something that will be making Drazaak looking like a Kindergarten play. No offense intended. But hey Ryan this will be simultaneous so lets get our timing right.*
20 years later, January 23rd 2554 (okay, slightly less than 20 years, but does a month really make that much difference?).
After a year in office, evidence was bought to light of President Kyoshi's corruption, resulting in his removal from Office. The Republic and C.I.S. are now allies, the Turanian Alliance are now full members of the Republic and the Republic's colonial and exploration efforts in the Pegasus Galaxy are in full swing.
An uneasy peace has been maintained between the Klingons and Romulans for the last 15 years and war could break out again at any moment.
Sam and Matt eventually settled down on Khitomer after the war, in Sam's old hometown, to raise their family; their first daughter, born shortly after the war ended, called Danielle (Dani for short, named after Dana) who is now nineteen and their second daughter Tara, aged sixteen.
Matt is now a Vice Admiral, serving as naval liaison to the Citadel when not planetside with Sam. Dani is at the Republic Naval Officer Academy and Tara...
...is a complex matter.
Pegasus Prime, the capital of the Pegasus Colonial Government. Hood's Landing, the Capital city. A man walks into a bar in the city, wearing a navy blue jacket with an emblem reading "Torah Zhiyal" on the sleeve, and a phaser pistol holstered at his side. He steps over and sits at the bar.*
Bartender: What'll it be, Drake?
*The man - Captain Daniel Drake (no relation to Franklin Drake) looks up.*
Drake: Usual, Lex.
Bartender: You got it.
Drake: Had any trouble lately?
Bartender: Couple of brawls. Nothing major. Always keep a rifle since that Nausicaan last month.
Drake: Anything interesting?
Bartender: Nothing illegal, if that's what you're asking. If there were, I'd tell P-Sec.
Drake: I don't mean illegal. I like to stay informed.
Bartender: Well, I had a girl in here earlier - don't worry, I didn't sell her anything alcoholic. She looked a mess.
Drake: How so?
Bartender: Don't get me wrong, she was a pretty thing. She was probably... 16, 15?
In my line of work, you learn to read faces...
*He passes Drake a scotch.*
I can tell if someone's happy, sad, in love, heartbroken, all by small quirks in their behaviour.
Bartender: That girl... her face gave me mixed signals; pain, loss, fear, hope, agitation...
From her clothes and the bag she had with her, I'd say she was a hopper.
Drake: Huh. Okay, thanks Lex.
*He drinks the scotch and walks out.
Elsewhere, in a nearby alleyway, a 16 year old girl, long brown hair with brown eyes, wearing a white top and black trousers, gets slammed against the wall. A group of men stand over her.*
Man 1: You think your funny, punk?! I bring you here, and you try to cheat me?!
Girl: I gave you your money, Hall!
Man 1: Tell that to my now-empty credit chit! Or are you gonna try and tell me you didn't know you account had a virus in it?!
Girl: I DIDN'T!
*She screams as they begin beating her again.*
Drake: That's enough!
*They stop, looking up to see Drake at the end of the alleyway, pointing his phaser pistol at them.*
Man 1: This is none of your business, pal!
Drake: Leave... the girl... alone.
Man 1: Well... look at Mr Bigshot over here!
Before the group can reach their phasers, Drake stuns them all before running over to the girl, blood trickling from her forehead.*
Drake: Are you okay?
Girl: *Groans*... Had worse...
Drake: I can guess.
*He looks at her bag a few meters away.*
You a hopper?
I came here on that Captain's ship and...
Drake: Save it. The important thing is to get you medical.
Girl: I can't afford...
Drake: I'll handle it.
*He taps his combadge.*
Drake to Zhiyal, two to beam to Sickbay.
*The two are beamed out.*
OOC: So, yeah, I'll post more tomorrow when I get a chance. This is just to get me started.
*Danny, his appearance is rough and mangled is on New Romulus watching his target, the former Admiral now retired Fanshu'a at a war rally... He looks at a picture he keeps in his pocket. Murmuring something he gets his rifle out follows out through the scope. *
Danny: *After he places the picture away and fires hitting the Romulan dead center mass...*
One less bad guy..
*He remembers back to the Romulan attack on Ktinga IX... closing his eyes before setting the rifle to disintegrate he sets it down and walks away. Before he leaves the Hotel... he starts coughing... then sticking a hypo on his neck to relive it. *
*USS Freedom at the border*
*Damon is sitting at his desk trying to drink and be at ease... Running the ship for the last two decades has been rough... but manageable. In the corner a picture of his sister which during his drinking binges he puts it face down...*
Damon: Damn it..
*Klingon Homeworld Wax sits back... Being the elected Chancellor is rough but manageable especially with his house growing in size... Accepting his role in Klingon affairs and being Grandson to two heroes in Klingon lore gave him much... Marrying his son off to Markon's house aided quite a bit.*
Wax: *Speaking Klingon while sending off a set of orders. * Get me Markon.
*He remembers Talikar and his death bed at least 16 years before.*
Jacob sits in his ready room as the ship heads for the citadel. He has kept to himself mostly the past few years. And sees no reason to change that right now. He pulls a small jem out of his pocket and looks at it. He hasn't used it in 20 years. Maybe its time he called on an old friend.
" great men are forged in fire. It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame"