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James T. Kolk

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Everything posted by James T. Kolk

  1. Well, mine for one. I think there're others, but I don't know whose.
  2. She's the CoS. Of course, we know she exists. We depend on her to defend our home.
  3. This thread is for Elisa Verde's story, "Running Game."
  4. I couldn't sleep, so I finished my story. It's not quite the dream that inspired it, but that's more than okay. Enjoy.
  5. "Distant Haven" by Jackford B. Kolk ----- The USS Frontiersman drifted slowly toward the station. As they had done so many times before in so many other systems, the renegade Starfleet crew played "worthless heap of rubble" to slip in unnoticed. No one was interested in the tattered hulk of a war-torn Federation starship. Not after the way the Dominion had clearly bested them, wiping the Alpha and Beta Quadrants clean of all vestiges of the Federation, the Klingon Empire, and the Romulan Star Empire. Now, over 50 years later, Earth, Q'onos, and Romulus were completely dead, and very few even remembered what they had stood for. But Captain Sean Callaghan and his crew of four hundred and thirty seven did. They had fought hard to keep the dream alive, and suffered gravely for it. A generation after the fateful end of the conflict, their Galaxy class vessel had been patched up with alien parts more times than anyone cared to remember, and the outer hull looked like a quilt that had been worked on for generations. In a way, that's what it was. They had traveled to the outer reaches of the Alpha Quadrant seeking refuge from the Dominion. But everywhere they went, the shadow of the Dominion's power loomed. Until they reached the galactic rim. Somehow, it seemed the rim had escaped the interest of the Founders. Perhaps now they could find a home in which to rebuild a Federation-like society. In the blackness that surrounded them, the unspeakably massive alien station loomed ominously. But the First Officer, Commander Mark Graystone, whose indomitable spirit was all that had kept the crew going at times, was sure this that was the place. After what felt like an eternity of drifting, the hulking vessel had finally found its way to the station's cavernous waste excretion port. With a few momentary bursts of the maneuvering jets and a split second tap on the impulse engine control, the Frontiersman was inside. After an hour more of gently gliding inside, the ship attached itself to the deck and the customary scouting party was preparing to disembark. Forty-seven year-old Captain Callaghan led his party of four down the gantry and into the bowels of the station. Their EVA suits slowed their ascent, but the "Frontiersmen", as the crew called themselves, were well used to taking their time. Patience was what kept them alive most of the time. Patience and caution. They had learned long ago, that they could not risk announcing their presence to anyone. The Founders could be anywhere. Eventually, Callaghan's team reached a maintenance air-lock. Beneath their EVA suits, the crew wore civilian clothing. A small party of plainly dressed humans rarely raised suspicions anymore. They found a storage room nearby and hid their suits in a corner behind some crates, then briefly used their tricorders to locate the station's equivalent of a turbolift that would take them to the upper levels where sensors had indicated a massive class-M environment with at least three cities. The lift took the team to the downtown area of the capital city of the station. It was bustling with activity. Crowds of people milled about, taking care of the day's business. The population was mostly comprised of a human-looking species, so the team blended in easily, but surreptitious scans revealed a decidedly non-human internal physiology. There were also a number of alien species represented in small numbers, a few of which had been members of the Federation before its demise. Callaghan decided to observe the station's culture before attempting to make conspicuous contact with the authorities, so the group wandered toward the outskirts of the city. They heard general discussions about station business, couples making plans for the evening, and vendors peddling their merchandise. It seemed a dream, exactly the type of place they'd hope to create, if they ever found a safe haven in which to do so. As they approached a more residential area, they came across a schoolyard full of small children being taught a lesson on plant life and the ecosystem of the station. When they were a far enough distance away from the school, the Captain stopped them. "Mark, what do you think?" Commander Graystone smiled. "I think we've found Haven, Sir." The Frontiersman[i/]'s Security Chief, Lieutenant Trance Sacho, scowled, as usual. "If they'll have us. Even if this isn't a Dominion trap, why would these people want to suddenly incorporate four hundred and forty aliens into their population?" She was never one to look on the bright side, especially since her husband's death 6 months ago in their last brush with a Jem-Hadar scoutship. Chief Medical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Jane Vasco, objected to the Lieutenant's scepticism. "We haven't seen or heard anything about the Founders or the Jem-Hadar in weeks, Lieutenant. And this community is clearly not unaccustomed to welcoming refugees. I saw a few Bolians, Vulcans... even a Betazoid in the city center." "I say we find whoever is in charge and ask for asylum, Captain," Graystone said. "The crew has wondered enough." Captain Sean Callaghan turned away from his officers, taking in the quite beauty of the place. The schoolyard was nestled next to a small park, surrounded by alien-looking, but still recognizable, homes for small families. He and his wife had dreamt of a place like this for years. Turning back to his people, his voice was resolute, but Commander Graystone sensed the tiniest twinge of meloncholy in it. "I agree." The group made their way, casually, back into the heart of the city, and Callaghan's First Officer looked for an opportunity to ask his Captain about the meloncholy he had noted. As they rounded a corner and the two were slightly further from the woman, Mark softly asked, "What it is, Sir?" Callaghan smiled. He realized he'd almost expected the question. "Oh, nothing. I just realized I'm going to miss the ship." Graystone looked at the older man thoughtfully. "I'm sure we all will, Sir. It was our home." Keeping his eyes straight ahead, the older man simply said, "I think it's time you started calling me 'Sean'."
  6. Well, one could presume that, but then wouldn't Toni put a "Work in Progress" thingy on it? Besides, it seemed finished when I read it...
  7. Excellent story, Toni. But, uh, you might want to mark it as completed so it can be counted in the competition.
  8. Speaking of half asleep, I finally got a workable idea in the form of a dream last night. Now I just have to remember what it was...
  9. Thanks Kassa/Toni. I would also like to congratulate the USS Ronin for being instrumental in the production of the top two stories this bi-month. We couldn't have done it without you, old girl. Right, Jhen?
  10. Jhen: Congratulations, my friend. It was a pleasure competing with you.
  11. Best of luck to you too. May the best story win, even though it probably won't be mine...
  12. Yes, I certainly won't think it's naff. ...I don't even know what naff is.
  13. You of course realize, Jay, that, had you entered, we on the Ronin would simply have claimed you as a former crewmember and assimilated you and your entry into our stats, right?
  14. How come none of the Ronin's crew have entered this bi-month? We wouldn't want the rest of the fleet to feel that we aren't participating in the larger community, would we? Come on guys, let's get our act together and join in on the fun... Oh, wait... We already comprise 75% of the competition, there're still 19 days to go, and everyone knows Cara Maria, Ben Walker, and Toni Turner/Kassa Quay usuallly compete as well. My bad.
  15. "Saving Grace" by Jackford B. Kolk ----- A flash in the night sky streaked through a starless midnight sky. Another. Still more, until the blazing streaks lit up Aryalaa's face. The young girl sat wrapped in her mother's warm embrace on a fertile hillside in the Free Lands of Shallot. Mesmerized by the glorious sight of the meteor shower that had erupted in the heavens without warning, Aryalaa whispered, "It's so beautiful!" *** "It's so bizarre," Chief Astronomer Yazaal said, standing in the eternally hectic Free Shallot Council Chambers. "All our telescopes just stopped working, then five minutes later, this meteor shower. It shouldn't be happening, ma'am." Grand Commissioner Dara, elected leader of the Free Lands, was truly puzzled. "What was the last thing we could see? Anything unusual?" "For a moment something like a comet, one we've never charted. But before we could gather any useful data on it... this smokescreen." "Odd. Very odd. Are these meteors any threat to the planet?" "Not yet..." *** Outside the atmosphere of Shallot, known to the Federation as Epsilon Delphi IV, the Steamrunner class starship USS Defender weaved in and out of a field of Starfleet fighters and runabouts battling furiously with what was once fifteen Borg Spheres. No one noticed as the dead hulk that had once been the Akira class starship, USS Katana, careened dangerously toward the blissfully ignorant planet. The Defender was hardly in better shape, she had only three small hull breaches whereas the Katana had lost nearly 45% of its mass, including the weapons pod and port nacelle. From the tactical station on the bridge of the Defender, Captain Jenna N'Bronte asked her science officer, "What are we down to?" Lieutenant Tray K'trone wiped streaks of sweat and blood from his eyes, "Three fighters, a runabout and us. They've still got two." "Are the natives still in the blind about this mess, Lieutenant?" While the two talked, Helmsman Charles Newton did his best to keep the frayed starship from being torn apart by the Borg weapons fire that seemed to be everywhere. "Yes, sir," K'trone began. "They've seen nothing but the debris that's drift--" He never finished his sentence because, despite Ensign Newton's best efforts, another blast rocked the ship, destroying the science officer's console and tossing him effortlessly into what was left of another, impaling him through the chest and killing him instantly. Closing her eyes hard to the fury and the tears of what the Borg just kept on doing to the people she worked with and loved, N'Bronte slammed her first down hard. "Pick a sphere, Ensign. Ramming speed!" Looking at her last remaining bridge officer, she regretted having lost warp drive 30 seconds ago. If she hadn't, she would've added, "Hit them with the best warp factor you can manage." As the Borg picked off two more fighters, the last one joined the runabout in pummeling the weaker of the two spheres, showing N'Bronte what she had to do. She targeted it, joining them in finishing it off, and fired everything she had. It erupted into a cascade of fiery green plumes and then was no more. "You know what to do, Charles..." While the Defender was ramming into the last sphere, it destroyed the final fighter and crippled the runabout, but for the Borg at Epsilon Delphi, resistance was futile. Just seconds before the Defender struck, a general hail went out on all frequencies from the valiant captain. Her last four words were, "Remember the Prime Directive!" The only ship to survive the Battle of Epsilon Delphi was a Danube class runabout, the USS Unity. Only one man remained aboard the nearly crippled little boat. Lt. Commander Griffin Talos pounded the flickering console in front of him with both fists after seeing his ship, carrying his best friends and crewmates, explode into a yellow-green ball of fire, his captain's last words still ringing in his ears. He couldn't get a clear scan of the planet, so his used thrusters to aim the nose of the Unity at it. A few charred pieces of fighters' hulls and sphere bits were still burning to crumbs in the atmosphere, but what caught his attention was the wreckage of the Katana. It too was now in the upper atmosphere, a coat of fire surrounding half of it. It's charred underbelly was turned away from the surface, and Talos knew that if he acted quickly, he could detonate the anti-matter containment pods and vaporize the hulk... And if he didn't, the massive wreck would, at best, contaminate the culture of Shallot, quite probably killing a few dozen people in the process. At worst, the shockwave from its crash would kill every living thing on the surface. Given more time, he would've pulled up the ship's schematics on the Unity's computer and made sure he knew exactly where to hit her, but he didn't have that time; the hulk was spinning swiftly and he only had two torpedoes. So he fired... *** Grand Commissioner Dara and Chief Astronomer Yazaal stared in disbelief at the picture their telescope feeds were now sending them. It was massive, and coming in far too fast. Dara spoke first. "Is there any chance...?" Yazaal knew exactly what the Commissioner was thinking. "No. No chance. We're all going to die." *** Aryalaa's mother held her as tight as she could, watching in growing fear as the fire in the sky grew larger and larger. It was becoming more and more obvious that it was coming straight for them. The woman prayed silently that the god of Shallot would save them, but Aryalaa felt no fear, never imagined, even for a split second, that she might die. All she saw was the stunningly incomprehensible beauty of the cosmos, and then that beauty climaxed as the growing ball of fire suddenly spread magnificently in breathtakingly sporadic patterns then slowly faded away, clearing the haze that had obscured the stars for almost an hour. "Wow! That was amazing!" Aryalaa slipped out of her mother's arms and looked her eagerly in the face. Her mother smiled lovingly at her, a tear sliding down her cheek in silent thanksgiving for an answered prayer. "I want to be an astronaut, Mommy! I want to learn all about comets and meteors and shooting stars!" She looked back up at the sky, her eyes and her heart still filled with wonder. "Do you think there'll be more?" *** As the Katana exploded, light washed over Talos' for the briefest of moments before darkness descended upon him once again. After a moment spent in silent memorial for all that had been lost, Griffin stood and made his way to the small compartment that served as the runabout's engineering section. Adrenaline shot through his veins when he saw a lone Borg drone tinkering with the tiny warp core. The drone immediately raised its arm to fire at him, but Lt. Commander Talos raised his faster, firing directly into the core. *** In the midnight sky above a fertile hillside in the Free Lands of Shallot, a young girl named Aryalaa spotted one small star flashing brightly. It's light reflected in her eyes, if only for a moment, and spoke into her soul, telling her that there would always be more, if only she was willing to keep looking to the stars. And then, that light was gone...
  16. Yeah, it would be interesting to do a join SIM and both be in engineering... But I'm a little worried about whether I can hack it in Engineering. It's not my strongest skill-set. But then I suppose that just means I'll have to stretch myself and learn more, which is what this is all about right? I'm jealous that you get to go to Iconia. And, of course, I'm still jealous that you got the Constitution. Treat her well, Rho. And make sure she always makes it home. If she gets destroyed, I'm holding you personally responsible...
  17. So, Rho and I are Engineering. She's on the Galaxy Class USS Constitution. I'm on the Akira Class USS Ronin. And Trix is on the Prometheus Class USS Independence? So what's your posting Trix? Rho, what's your ship up to right now? I'm hanging out at Deep Space 17, doing a little character development for my over-eager Ensign...
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