Alucard Vess

(( A Guided Fall Within The Center )) :: There were 56 of them. 56 was ideal. Many would remain Shadowed and some would be Seen. Large ones would be Seen. The Wayward learned truths more quickly when the larger Keepers approached them. This had been learned, over many cycles. They moved through The Center, with silvery swiftness. The Song had changed, with new tones - the Keepers had come upon the Wayward who had dared to break the seals, and they had taken them into The Center, and guided them through a Fold to the hearth and the Ascension of Rest. The Wayward would want to see the Ascension of Rest; the one who guided them had seemed most interested to find it. This was a truly golden moment; the Wayward would only find their way to the True through Rest. Through Rest and the Folds. 56 Keepers moved onwards, and the Song moved with them. These Wayward were farther away from the golden notes. They walked beneath the Ward, in the light of the True, and brought with them fire and dust and gray thoughts, heavy as stones. They brought rage, red as the Shorewalker shells. The Eyes that watched them and the crystals that listened to their notes saw only distrust and heard only dissonance. There had been a flow of the song, and the Keepers, and the Shorewalkers, and the Highwatchers, and the Shining Sleepers arrived at a truth; these Wayward risked becoming too red, too gray. They must be brought to The Center. So the Shining Sleepers had fed subtle harmonies to the shell that lay above The Center, and let the ground buckle and welcome the Wayward and their ruined vessel to the Center - and for a few blessed moments, had ceased their endless gray tumble of red words. 56 Keepers moved on, some in Shadow, some Seen, and the Song moved with them. They moved into the Rounding where the Shining Sleepers had neatly weakened the shell to let the Wayward fall after the one in the carapace had set off her dissonant chemicals. The Wayward were gathered here, already rising. They were resilient. This was ideal; it was one reason the True found them so suitable for Rest. The Keepers had brought two with voices with them. Curiously, the Wayward seemed more comfortable with voices than the hisses of welcome. So voices they would have. One was sung to be the speaker, with another ready if the Wayward needed more voices, needed more endless words. It was not the Song. It was clumsy. But it made the Wayward think silvery thoughts, to have words given to them. So it would be. They moved from the Fold, into the Rounding, their mandibles wide and legs raised in the embrace of greeting. The Song called for soothing, for assertion of security, for a guiding away from the gray. The Song also called for the one with the carapace to be kept in harmony, and so she was enfolded with four of the largest Keepers, and they had the Thread ready to snare her if she became red. So the words came in the awkward heaps of "Standard" as the smaller Keeper addressed the Wayward. Even as one of them spoke. Sevo: Stay calm, *untranslatable: All Those Present*. They don’t seem to be *untranslatable: Those Without Singing* *untranslatable: Those Who Serve The Shining Sleepers On The Shell*. :: The Wayward were so very hard to understand sometimes. :: Keeper2826: Happy *campers* are so glad to *smell* you, *lost*! You will cease all *gray* and remove your *harms* and come to *Home*, to *hearth*. This is a *silver* function. Do not have *sauce*. Sevo: Th...they *untranslatable: Sing Truly*? *untranslatable: Gathering Of The Lost* Standard no less? :: The Keepers shifted in the dance to keep the Wayward in view. Some kept their lights in the rose hue of welcome. Some shifted to the blue of The Center, preparing to map the Folds. :: sh'Idrani: response Millis: Hi. :: One the shade of the Shining Sleepers in full blossom held his hands out, in a somewhat innocent attempt at the embrace of welcome. Just as their "Standard" was clumsy, so too was their organic design, but the gesture was appreciated. The voice-given Keeper raised his arms in greater welcome in return. :: MacFarlane: Sir? Are ye sure tha’ is a good idea. Some o’ them are quite big. :: The Song urged calm, motivated an embrace. There must be a harmony, a unity. There must above all be clarity. :: Keeper: Welcome! You are *lost* but now you are safe in *Home*. There is no *gray*, no *red*. Only *silver* functions and *lights* with the *lost*. Sevo: I don’t think they mean us any harm. Millis/Freeman/sh’Idrani: response Sevo: Who are you? What is this place? Keeper2826: We are *campers*. We are of the *Home*. We are the ones who hold the *lights*. This is *Home*. Home of *others*, open to *lost*. Come. Your *lost* await. There is *hearth*. You may *lights* with those present. Millis/Freeman/sh’Idrani: response :: Questions, questions. The Song wavered with the impatience of a crystal flower in shade seeking the light of the True. The Song flowed between them, and more Keepers emerged from the Shadow, surrounding the Wayward. They began to shift forward, gently herding, urging, guiding. The Wayward must be guided; this was the most utterly golden note of the Song the True had left for them here in The Center; the Wayward MUST be guided. Guided to where they needed to be. :: Keeper2826: Come. *Home* awaits just beyond the *Wrinkle*. Come. We will remove your *residue*. :: The Keepers moved, gentle but inevitable, to slowly and harmoniously try to guide the Wayward to the Fold - they would not know the Fold as more than a chill, more than a darkness that would seem as no more than the shadows and damp of a cave. But the Folds were how the True had built The Center here, under the shell, beneath the Ward and the light. From anywhere, to anywhere within The Center, there was a Fold. The Keepers sought to guide the Wayward to one that would take them to just outside the great dome of the Ascension of Rest. :: Sevo/Millis/Freeman/sh’Idrani: response :: There may have been some curiosity. The Wayward always had curiosity. It was in their nature. Some of them seemed to have heavy thoughts about their smoldering wreckage, brought low by the Ward. The Ward disabled the Wayward's curious toys. That was in its nature. Keepers began to clamber over the primitive craft, and work at it with bright plasmic lights, to break it apart into useful components. :: Keeper2826: The *residue* must be removed. It is useful to *Home*, but not as it is. It must be *cleaned*. *Campers* are fine for making things *clean*. *Lost* must not be so *gray*. It is a *silver* function to keep things *clean*. There will be no *blue* damage. Sevo/Millis/Freeman/sh’Idrani: response :: The Song flowed, and brought with it a closed fist, a warning of the need for sternness, to keep the Wayward moving. More of them enfolded closer, to try to guide them into the tunnels towards the Fold. :: Keeper2826: Do not have *sauce*. :: They could not be clearer than that. :: 56 Keepers (The ideal number) The Center as simmed by Ensign Connan MacMorna Helmsman USS Gorkon I238605NL0

(( Clear Stream, Leutra IV, Leutra System )) Millis: %##$@##5. What in the moons of Endor was that! ::Loudly.:: :: These creatures could really scream. The purple one hadn't been kicked over by her attack. A different method would need to be used. But whether the Cliff Dweller was actually capable of thinking one up... Well, maybe now, but certainly not before. She'd already been alive before the new young-ones were put in the river. It hadn't felt like a sudden change to any of the Dwellers. Instead of putting the eggs on the side of the water, their instincts now told them to put them in, and let them be carried off by the stream to get their eyes in the caves. Out of all the creatures who had gotten their eyes at a later age, she'd been among the group who had adapted the best. At first, she'd gotten quite a bit thinner due to her brain having to adjust and her constantly missing the insects she hunted, but now she functioned almost normally. She even didn't mind the low humming whenever she spotted something unusual and the hard bits in her eyes suddenly started moving. :: :: Their offspring would hatch into the water as half-naked, blind animals, but return about one light-cycle later still only partly feathered, but now with eyesight and strengthened latching claws. They still smelled as 'child', and the only difference was that because it was unclear which were whose offspring, they were raised in random nests. None of the Dwellers had ever questioned or even consciously noticed that change. Even if they were more advanced, they probably still wouldn't have. :: MacFarlane: Who’s there? I’ll get ya! sh'Idrani: You're bleeding! Were you attacked? :: The other creatures were now also very loud. They all gathered around the one she'd wounded, then stayed there for a while, making movements she couldn't quite follow or understand. They didn't seem to want to leave, though. Maybe she would have to try again? :: :: After things had calmed down a little, and the purple one had some weird flap covering his wound, she crawled closer again, but with much more care this time. One of the red ones was also near the stream now. If one of them was hard to scare off, how would two be? No, her gut told her to lay in wait. Another opportunity would come. Maybe a distraction. :: :: But... Not one of the distractions that were common in the forest. A sound from very high-up suddenly sounded, and another not-living light was visible, almost like a smaller version of a flash. A strange thing she couldn't place or recognize flew down through the sky, and then a bang louder than anything she'd ever heard before made the trees shake. The Cliff Dweller let out a loud cry of warning, and flew up in a wild panic. What was that? It had happened in close proximity to the river. With the protectiveness over the eggs once again overriding her natural panic response, she hopped over the trees until she had enough momentum to take off. The odd living creatures were also running towards the place where the bang had sounded from. :: Millis: Look over there! ::It was really close and they could be there in just a few minutes.:: MacFarlane: response :: She came to a halt at the bottom of the hill, near the crater, and her panic response decided to finally work a bit more. She stood frozen, next to the red and blue creatures, and neither seemed to notice each other. The heat and light was disorienting to her, but then, finally, some organic form moved away from the rest of the heat. It... had the same red colour. The Cliff Dweller just stayed there, half hidden in the leaves, half near the spot where the intruders were standing, and looked up with big, wild eyes. :: -- The Cliff Dweller ??? Leutra IV Inhabitant -- Played by: -- Ensign Shrega sh'Idrani Security Officer USS Gorkon G239401SS0

(( Flashback - Stardate 237510.14, AR-558 (Home Universe) )) Colonel Mason: =/\= Come on, get to the shuttles! We. Are. Leaving! =/\= :: Purple bolts of energy raced passed Toran’s face. He returned the gesture with blasts from his own phaser rifle as he backran to the evacuation shuttle. Four months. He had been assigned to this rock for four long months, defending it from constant and relentless Dominion attacks. There had been too many occasions to count where he nearly met the Gods. He was one of the many replacements aboard the U.S.S. Veracruz Captain Sisko ordered to replace the worn and beaten garrison that had been defending it. And all for a damn communications array. :: :: He hoped the engineers got what they wanted, because they were out of time. Word had come down that the Dominion had allied with the Breen and were deploying a devastating new weapon that disabled nearly every ship they came across. What seemed like hope for the war had suddenly turned to a very real possibility of defeat. The Dominion had retaken the Chin’toka system, within which AR-558 was located. Now the garrison was scrambling to get off the asteroid and out of the system before the Dominion fleet approached the asteroid belt, but the existing Dominion garrison, emboldened by their space fleet’s victory, was making the retreat extremely difficult, and costly. :: Toran Sevo: =/\= All surviving engineers aboard and accounted for, sir! Got a few injured troops, but that’s it! =/\= Colonel Mason: =/\= Alright, time to go! Get your butt over here, Lieutenant! =/\= :: As Toran made the final stretch to the shuttle’s ramp, a massive Jem’Hadar came up from Toran’s blind spot, stabbing him in the thigh with a combat knife. Adrenaline surging through his blood, Toran ignored the pain, twirling on the heel of his boot to face his adversary. He brought out his own knife, cut the Jem’Hadar’s White tube, slashed both his carotid arteries, and stabbed him in the side of his torso, right in the primary heart. It was a vicious technique Toran had used too many times; now it was practically muscle memory. And it once again saved his life. :: Toran Sevo: :: Spitting on the bleeding corpse. :: To hell with you. :: Before leaving, however, Toran bent down, reached into the Jem’Hadar’s tunic, and yanked out his White vial. Another trophy. That made...twenty now? He lost count. With every Jem’Hadar Toran felled in personal combat, he took their White vials as trophies. The Klingons started it, but he, along with many other Federation soldiers, had taken to it with vigor. It was a gruesome and barbaric practice. To hell with egalitarianism; this was plain survival. :: :: He quickly looked at the nearly empty vial in his palm, grasped his hand closed, and ran as best he could with a bleeding leg to the evac shuttle. : : ---------------------------- Second Lieutenant Toran Sevo Starfleet Marine ---------------------------- simmed by ---------------------------- Lt. Commander Ayiana SevoChief Science OfficerU.S.S. GorkonV239109AS0 ---------------------------

(( Toran Sevo’s Quarters - U.S.S. Gorkon )) :: What a wild day. It started as a nice, refreshing time out with some of the Gorkon’s crew on the Helase. He had intended to let his alternate/future self, Ayiana, “out on the town.” They spent several hours on the Helase, with Toran steering her into the casino and some much-needed life experience. He left her to her friends and crewmates, and wandered off on his own. It didn’t last, however, as the face that had haunted Toran the past month had suddenly popped up on every screen in the ship. Erik Jansen. The man responsible for the destruction of the Triumphant. The man who attacked Quinn. The man who declared their lives were not worth living; “it was better to side with the Dominion.” Which he did. Now he was here, hunting down his former crewmates. Before he knew it, Toran was back on the Gorkon, in his posh quarters, barreling away from the Helase as fast as they could. :: T. Sevo (Alt): oO Its not fair. Just. Not. Fair. Oo :: Toran took another swig of the vile brown liquid from the bottle, feeling it burn his throat on the way down. He hadn’t drunk much over the years. Alcohol was hard to come by post-War. Now, with functioning replicators and a fully-stocked bar, he had taken to having a few drinks from time-to-time. At first, it was just the experience; to feel his inhibitions melt, the chemicals fog his brain and his troubles. So he started drinking some more. And a little more. Sure, he could have the syntheholic crap, but it didn’t have the same “kick.” It didn’t befuddle one’s mind; which was something Toran sorely needed. :: T. Sevo (Alt): oO How the hell did I get here? Oo :: He had met the young Ayiana after the Battle. At first, Toran was simply glad to see another Trill besides Kael Seren. She was more shocked than he was to discover him alive. It turned out she was the next host of the Sevo symbiont in her universe. A universe where he had died. That wasn’t much of a shock. Being a career soldier, Toran was trained and fully prepared to die in combat if necessary. :: :: What he hadn’t expected, however, was to die not at once, but little-by-little, over the years after their successful war with the Dominion. Ayiana explained that Toran lost himself to depression, drinking, and despair. “Posttraumatic stress disorder” was the clinical term; he thought of it as Hell itself. The psychological trauma slowly caused his isoboramine levels to drop to catastrophic levels. Ayiana told him he was near-suicide and probably would have gone through with it if Sevo hadn’t been removed. :: :: In some cruel way, Toran considered his survival in this universe to be a blessing in disguise. Constantly being on the run, the occasional fight, and generally helping out on the ships he lived on had seemingly kept him distracted from thinking too much of his life and the war. The war they had lost. It was better than Ayiana’s paradise world. There, Toran had returned to an untouched Trill. The Powers-That-Be thought he, along with the millions of other veterans and survivors, could simply return to their lives. A little wiser, more experienced, some trauma, but mostly unscarred; despite the history of PTSD on countless worlds demonstrating otherwise. :: T. Sevo (Alt): oO We all pay our dues in the end, it seems. Oo :: It seemed his other life had caught up with him. With all his free time roaming the massive and immaculate Gorkon with nothing to do, his mind had finally had time to process everything that happened over the past fifteen years. It came in dreams at first, vivid, terrifying dreams. Or memories? They turned into nightmares. Then, Toran could barely sleep at all. That was one reason he took Ayiana to the Helase; to get *his* mind off things as much as her’s. :: T. Sevo (Alt): oO Yet again, Erik, you are ruining my life. Oo :: Suddenly, the klaxons blared in his alcoholically-sensitive ears. Red alert lighting (true red lights!) flashed on his computer’s screen, and emitted from other light sources in his quarters. :: Computer: Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert. :: The computer’s high-pitched female-esque voice screamed in his ears like a Siren. Toran dropped the bottle. It didn’t have to go far, as he was already sitting - well, leaning - on the floor in front of his couch. Sitting up, he covered his ears with his hands. The sound was too much! Memories of Jem’Hadar and Cardassians running through the halls came shattering to the front of his mind. He didn’t want to fight them anymore. No; he wanted to hide. :: T. Sevo (Alt): C-computer! Seal the door! Turn off the lights! :: The room darkened, only to be lit by panel glows and the red alert lights. As he heard the snap of a forcefield cover his quarter’s doors, themselves strengthening their magnetic seal, Toran fumbled for his d'k tahg on the coffee table in front (and above) him. He leaned back against the couch, still sitting on the floor, clutching his d'k tahg tightly, as if protecting a baby. He simply sat there quietly, shivering and sweating in the dark, hoping to the Gods whatever was going on outside those doors wouldn’t come for him next. :: ----------------------------First Lieutenant Toran SevoRefugee---------------------------- simmed by ----------------------------Lt. Commander Ayiana SevoChief Science OfficerU.S.S. GorkonV239109AS0---------------------------

What he said. A lot of people start off in one department then switch. I started in medical before moving to command, and I even know someone who went from engineering to science. I'd recommend giving security a chance to see how you like it. They do see a lot of action. After all, you can't have an away mission without security. And if you decide you don't like it (now or later) you can always talk to your captain about it. You'll find that the captains around here are pretty understanding and flexible.

Not really a first stage, there's no progression from Security to Intel, they're two different departments. You're on the Avandar, right? They already have an Intel officer listed (S'lone). Most ships only take one Intel officer, if any, because there really isn't enough work for more than one per ship. Several ships don't take Intel officers at all, just as some don't take Marines. I took a look at that placement questionnaire thing they have you fill out and they list Intel as a full position, in that case you default to your second choice as I understand it. I'm guessing you put Security as your second choice?

((StarFleet Intelligence, Operative branch)) :: Chang stood before a window, looking in on one of her former operatives. Alix Ozera had been a promising prospect, and his early initiative had garnered him several undercover assignments, of which te information he had obtained had been quite usable to Starfleet...except the last mission he was sent on. He had returned and been debriefed, he seemed fine..but once it had been determined that he had been compromised by the Orion Syndicate, culminating in the attempted assassination of Commander Hannibal Parker, an attempt which was foiled by Isaac Bale aboard the USS Mercury. Since then, Alix had remained in custody, and repeated debriefings could shed no more light as to where the chip which had been implanted in his brain had come from, or who had given him the order to do it. :: Much information had been gained from the information retrieved on Duronis, and it was still being analysed. One of the things Starfleet did was to order Chang to pull some of her deep cover operatives out of the Orion Syndicate, while some, who were too deep, were allowed to stay. Of those she recalled, one was Alisha Ozera, Alix's sister. She had been invaluable in her role, but Starfleet decided that she needed to be reassigned back in her old role as a Medical analyst, much to Changs' displeasure. Alisha had given up a lot to work in deep cover, and she was good at it.Chang had summoned her here to see her brother, and to tell her of her reassignment. In some ways, this would be good for her, as she could spend time with her brother while he recovered, and Alisha's first assignment would be to find out who made that chip and where could they be found...:: ::Many things were on Alisha Ozera’s mind, and most of them troubled her. Her brother’s condition had deteriorated – back on the [REDACTED], his brain had done some rather odd things, giving off strange readings – at one stage, it seemed like he was having an unexplained seizure. Alisha was Alix’s twin sister – she couldn’t stand by and watch his brain give up on him. ::But it wasn’t just Alix that was starting to concern her. After going through the procedure to have her Human DNA flushed out and “swapped” with an Orion’s, turning her skin permanently green and making the computer register her as Orion, she felt . . . stronger. More physically able than what she used to. Whether it was something to do with the newly-implanted Orion DNA or not, she didn’t know, but she was starting to like it. But due to the constantly changing situation, the process looks like it was all done for nothing. Alisha was going to be reassigned, and she didn’t like the sound of that. She had already spent too much time as a Medical Analyst on Chang’s ship, and she didn’t intend on doing it again. Sure, she appreciated Chang for pulling her out of the cold and allowing her to do what she had been doing, but she didn’t appreciate being assigned a task which would become boring very quickly. ::Alisha shook her head slowly at herself. No, she wasn’t going to allow Intelligence to put her in some room with a heap of data on “strange” deaths that other Medical officers “couldn’t explain”. And she wasn’t going to allow them to lock Alix in a cell in his condition, when he clearly didn’t remember the assassination attempt on Commander Parker – if there ever was one, as Isaac Bale seemed far too interested in Alix’s case than what he would normally be; for all Alisha knew, it was Bale that had committed the attempt on Parker’s life, and it was Alix that had stopped him. With all Bale’s mucking around, there was no longer proof of what had actually happened . . . and that’s what’s been keeping Intelligence from locking Alix in some hell hole somewhere as soon as they possibly could. No proof.:: Chang: : Looking at the chip in Alishas' hand:: It's amazing something so small could cause so much damage..... ::Alisha barely acknowledged the woman standing next to her. Alisha had been watching the operation to remove the foreign chip from Alix’s head – a delicate operation that *should* have had Alisha at the well, but, according to regulation, she wasn’t allowed to due to being his sister. The group of “doctors” had finished, and Alix was already hours into recovery, but that didn’t stop Alisha from examining the small chip that had apparently made Alix a killing machine. But it wasn’t concern for Alix that had her examining it – in reality, it was for potential use . . . for Volkoff Industries.:: Alisha: It’s a very interesting piece of equipment. Especially if it’s from the Brotherhood or the Syndicate. I sent a deal out as Volkoff to see if I can catch the creators. Chang: Do you think that was wise? Alisha: Well, it’s the logical thing to do. The chip comes from the two organizations, Volkoff Industries sells weapons to both of them, and I head the industry. It was quicker than becoming a new identity all together. :: Alisha did have a point...but it could also raise red flags and Alisha would then be in more danger. Both the Scarlet Brotherhood and Orion Syndicate would be very wary of dealing with someone new, and the power vacum currently sweeping through both organizations, both sides had itchy trigger fingers...hence, the pullback ordered by Starfleet Intelligence..:: Chang: It light of recent events, it would seem to be wise....and you can still monitor the progress of your inquiry from your new post... ::Alisha put down the chip at the mentioning of a new post. Slowly, she turned her eyes to Chang.:: Alisha: Director, I’m not *Human* anymore, and you know why? To make the cover of Vivian Volkoff more believable and convincing to buyers. Putting me in a different position means that I’ve done all this, gone through so much pain, for *nothing*. :: Chang undestood how she felt...no field operative liked being reassigned to perform "staff" work. As important as it was, there were those in the upper echelons of Intelligence who have forgotten the adrenaline rush, the sacrifice, the living on the edge that came with field work. Then, she thought again...most in the upper echelons WERE analysts who had done very little field work...that was how they managed to survive to achieve such a rank in the first place...:: Chang: Alisha...if it makes you feel any better, I was not in favor of the reassignment. You have established a solid cover, and your information has been spot on:: Looking at her:: Being here will also give you a chance to check on your brother more frequently than if you were in deep cover... Alisha: I am *Orion*! My life has been taken away. I am no longer *related* to Alix, purely because it was necessary! Chang: In many ways, our lives are not ours to have. We serve a jealous master in Starfleet Intelligence...those deltas on the walls mean something, Alisha... :: Chang was referring to the large white granite wall in Starfleet Intelligence headquarters in San Franciscoonto which black deltas were affixed..each delta representing a member of Starfleet Intelligence who had lost their life in performance of their duty. Three of those had been recently added, one representing Tallis Soban, killed by the Orion Syndicate. That sobering fact was one which weighed on her mind daily as her operatives went about their dangerous, but necessary work...:: ::Sure, they mean throwing away two years work for some idiot behind a desk.:: Alisha: I can’t stand this anymore, Chang. ::She stood up.:: I’m going to see my brother. At this stage, he has more difficult work to do then what I would in years if I’m forced to work as an analyst. ::The Orion stood up, leaving the room and Chang to her thoughts. What Chang didn’t realize, however, was the Alisha had swapped the chip that had controlled Alix with a fake. Her plan was now in motion, and she had little time before someone realized what she was doing.:: :: Chang watched her go, but something within her was telling her that Alisha more more than unhappy with her new assignment, and her feelings of unsatisfaction. Chang sttod up to leave, and preceeded out to check on the repairs to her ship. They should be close to finished by now, and the rest of her crew could continue to enjoy the rare opportunity to enjoy Earth..:: ((Recovery, StarFleet Intelligence)) Alisha: How are you feeling? Ozera: Better then what I did a few days ago . . . ::The Terran tugged at his restraints and motioned to the lack of his left hand.:: Nice to know that they trust me. ::During an early mission with the Marines, Alix’s hand had been severed. The details as of why were unknown, but Intelligence reports suggested that it was to save his life – and as he was stuck in a Borg-prone area, it seemed logical enough. So, it was replaced with a robotic one, and apparently, the officers that put the restraints on him didn’t want to take any chances.:: Alisha: I’m surprised to see you up this quickly. While the chip was deep in the brain, it’s still a lot to recover from. Ozera: The doctors said I’ll be absolutely fine in a matter of days. ::Taking a hypospray, Alisha loaded it up with a knock-out drug.:: Alisha: Good. Unfortunately, I can’t take any chances, and having you fall unconscious when we’re trying to escape this branch is only makes things harder. Ozera: Understanda- Wait, *what*? ::It was then that Alisha released the spray into Alix’s neck, and the Terran’s eyes shut.:: Volkoff: I’ll talk to you later. ::Oh yes. StarFleet Intelligence had a traitor, and a very dangerous one at that. Alisha has always been “iffy” when it came to Intelligence. Never reporting on time, making ridiculous “mistakes”, constantly arguing and threatening Chang. Alisha was a ruse, and she was about to walk out of Intelligence without even a scratch due to the leverage on the bed that she was now moving.:: Officer: Hey, *stop*! ::Having no time for a random Intelligence officer, Vivian immediately disabled him, snapping his neck in the process, which immediately got the attention of the rest of the branch, the alarm going off when the life-sign suddenly disappeared. Soon, she’d be surrounded, but Vivian Volkoff had a plan for that, and everybody watching knew it.:: ::After defeating several officers, Vivian had gotten to the front doors, of which she knew, by experience, would be in lockdown, and trying to transport out of the main base would be a no-go, especially if Chang had anything to do with it. She wasn’t stupid. So, turning around to face the hoard of officers with phasers, rifles and even disruptors, the Orion merely laughed. A field officer would have jumped her by now, Allison would have shot her by now, but neither Kamela Allison or any properly trained field officers were present. Standing before her were merely analysts and scientists that were hardly worth the trouble.:: :: Chang was three levels below Medical when the klaxon went off..a truly unusual event. Chang ordered the facility locked down, making it impossible to beam out or leave. The facility was low level,nondescript, but bereft of operatives for the most part. Chang knew the security personnell were good, but nothing was kept there of great importance. The lift stopped and Chang was hung between floors until she entered her override code to get the lift moving..this time, moving towards the upper level and the exit. The doors opened and she was greeted by a sea of personnell storming towards the front doors. She knew beaming out was impossible, and the facility was locked down...no code would open those doors except one...and Chang had it.Changs' short stature made it impossible for her to see who was now trapped at the front doors until she fought her way to the front of the line...and she was shocked and enraged at what she saw. Alisha had gone rougue, and was taking her brother with her...:: Chang: There is no escape Alisha....you know that...... Volkoff: If you managed to catch me, we’d both know I’d be in a cell by now. Chang: What do you want? Volkoff: I want to leave. Chang: You have no reason to. Your brother needs care. What other possible reason would you want to leave? :: Chang thought about the chip, and a know grew in her gut....she was selling out to the Orions.....:: Volkoff: Isn’t it obvious? I have *buyers* to get to. So let’s say we put forward out stakes and speed this up. ::She pulled out her phaser, and pointed it at Alix’s head.:: Allow me to leave, or your chance at ever finding out how Ozera got a controller chip in his head is gone forever. :: Chang knew that if she had Bale, Allison, or any one of her other operatives, the woman would have been dead by now, or at least stunned.There were several weapons pointed at Alisha,and they were good shots, not snipers..which meant that they could not take out Alisha without also taking out her brother.. The worst part was, Alisha did not even have to have her phaser set to kill to take out her brother, not with the emitter right next to Alixs' head. She had one choice...try to stall her, and hope she made a mistake...:: Chang: Alisha...the Orion Syndicate is responsible for what happened to you brother...you know that...why would you want to abandon Starfleet to join them? :: Chang took a step forward..there were only fifteen meters seperating them....:: Volkoff: It’s not the Orions that want him, it’s the Brotherhood. They only joined forces with the Orions in order to achieve a common goal. You’d know this, except your other analysts are useless. ::She sighed, apparently getting a bit bored of the situation.:: The reason I’m leaving is because Intelligence has no use for me anymore, and my file has some serious red flags, which means that some idiot behind a desk will attach my file to a cancel order – I’d be sent into a room, and eliminated so that I don’t cause any more trouble for your little organization. Alix is merely leverage to help me leave. If he wants to come back and face cancelation, I’ll let him do so, but first, he’s going to help me leave. Chang: Alisha...there are other ways to achieve your goal. Let Alix go, and come with me to the (REDACTED).We can sort it all out there...I know you are upset, and you could be a great asset here... :: Chang knew that once she got to space, all bets were off. There were only three starships currently in the Sol system...hers, the USS Thunder-A, and the USS Charleston. All the crews were on holiday leave, and even if they were available, persuing Alisha, who was trained to evade, would be difficult. Her ship was the only one which could catch her, but her impulse engines were still being repaired.She picked a good time for a jailbreak..:: Volkoff: Chang, you’ve got twenty seconds before I pull the trigger and kill Ozera. It’s either I kill him and disappear, *or*, you let us go and he comes back after I leave the system. ::She wasn’t bluffing and she wasn’t lying – there was no hint of hesitation (she was trained to avoid it and do whatever necessary to complete a mission), and there was no look of fear in her eyes. From the looks of things, she’d willingly kill her own brother just to get out of the Sol System and back to Volkoff Industries. Vivian knew that without Alix, if she got out of Intelligence, she’d merely be caught once she got back onto her ship. Taking Alix with her was really the only way out, and Chang wasn’t going to just let Volkoff kill Alix . . . was she? No matter. Alix was just colattoral damage. Alisha Ozera was the chameleon, changing appearance with ease and skipping past borders without problems – disappearing and becoming someone else was what she did for a living. Volkoff, however, was going to be better. She was going to be the master, and she knew she’d get out of the facility one way or another, and disappear until she got back to her ship, Alix, or no Alix.:: :: Chang looked into Alishas' eyes...she knew there was no doubt she would kill Alix if she had to, but it also meant that she would die in a hail of phaser and disruptor fire. Chang was faced with an impossible choice...they would either both die, or they would both escape. Chang was enraged, but only her calm was appaarent. She took another step closer to Alisha...her next words as cold as space...:: Chang: If you do this, you know we will hunt you down...and you know what that means...... Volkoff: Oh I know very well what it means – a cancel order will be put on my file, and I get quick and easy access into the Orion Syndicate. ::She pressed the phaser into her brother’s temple.:: And now you’re out of time. What’s it going to be? :: The phaser firmly against Alixs' temple made her meaning clear:: ::Chang keyed in the override command to open the doors ONLY, so as long as she was on the grounds, she was still vulnerable..and carrying her brother would have to slow her down some....... ::As the door opened, Vivian pulled herself and Ozera out the doors, the hoard of officers and doctors gathered, watching her leave the facility, unable to do anything about it without losing an asset. While Chang probably thought that she could take Vivian out, the Orion with her hostage had a plan.:: Volkoff: Good choice. I’m sure we’ll be in touch, Director Chang. Chang: Your [...] right...we will be...... :: Chang was hoping Alisha would surrender...but as time went by, surrender was no longer an option on the table for her..:: ::The crowd in the building and the few officers that had their weapon trained on her outside of it stared. Time seemed slow, and there was little regret in Volkoff’s eyes. She couldn’t help but think, however, that she was leaving her family. No matter – she was sure that she’d be up against StarFleet soon enough. Finally, as she walked out of the facility gates, Vivian pulled a signal transmitter out of her pocket and pressed the button. Outside of the grounds, the lockdown was pointless. Volkoff, and her hostage, were beamed up to a ship.:: :: Chang silently cursed herself.. Alisha was a trained and skilled operative, and her transmitter had the ability to beam through shields. She watched as the shimmer of a transporter beam took Alisha and Alix away...they were now fugitives. Chang hurried back inside and quickly issued a scrambled and encrypted broadcast to every Intelligence outlet in Starfleet, and uploaded to every Intelligence briefing to every Starfleet installation. The orders were simple...if spotted, moniter her movements, but do not engage. Intelligence would track her..and eventually, Alisha would lead them to the new heads of the Orion Syndicate...and the Scarlet Brotherhood..and they would all suffer for the pain they have caused...:: ((4 hours later, Unknown Orion vessel)) ::Volkoff had merely waited during the hours of Alix being unconscious. While she wasn’t patient with her buyers or her own “crew”, she was much kinder to the Terran on the biobed. She wanted answers, and if she was going to mass-produce or even sell the chip, she was going to need to know what he had experienced. After he had told her everything he could, she would let him go, but not without offering him a position within Volkoff Industries. But finally, he stirred and opened his eyes with a groan.:: Ozera: I would feel better if you had physically knocked me out . . . ::Volkoff smiled a little, crossing her arms.:: Volkoff: I’m afraid that would have been *too* convincing for your Director. I had to make her believe that I would actually kill you, not torture you. That’s how your operatives make mistakes. ::She could tell that he was calm with the situation. While he was barely conscious, Alix was able to work out what had happened – he was in some sort of area that belonged to Orions, Alisha was not in a uniform, and there were no tools of torture or death nearby. He wasn’t even restrained, and his hand was back on his left arm. It seemed like they trusted him.:: Ozera: You defected. Volkoff: No, just changed my identity like I had a few months ago. ::She stood up to look out the window, the stars shooting past with the ship at warp speed.:: I needed your help to get out, and you gave it to me. For that, I’m in your debt. Ozera: And help wasn’t given unwillingly. ::He stared at her.:: It’s nice to finally meet you, Miss Volkoff. Volkoff:::She turned around to face him around.:: You too, Mister Ozera. ::Vivian pulled a data display over to the bed, the details of Volkoff Industries loaded up.:: Volkoff: Now, Mister Ozera, I’d like to propose an offer. Ozera: Oh? Volkoff: To repay you for your troubles, you have a choice on what you’re going to do next. You can either leave, and return to StarFleet Intelligence, *or*, you can join us here at Volkoff Industries as soon as you’re up and running about. ::Alix tilted his head a little, a grin on his face. Vivian couldn’t tell whether it was because he thought she was joking or if he was considering joining her.:: Ozera: It really depends on what position I’d be getting. I don’t exactly want to leave Intelligence for a desk job in an enemy company. ::Vivian shrugged. Alix Ozera was a very strong man, very resilient and demanding when he wanted to be. If he was going to be a part of the company, the Terran would have to shove his way in, and that meant playing the bad guy *permenantly*, being quick on his feet and trusting no one but Volkoff herself. Of course, he’d have to learn the ropes, especially if he was going to be placed in the position Vivian thought he was suited for.:: Volkoff: You are my most trusted asset, Mister Ozera, with skills I can’t deny – I can assure you that Volkoff Industries is merely here to help with the . . . growing economy of the Orions. Therefore, you’ll be my second in command and my security chief. ::Weakly, Alix folded his arms and stared at Vivian.:: Ozera: Your First Officer? ::Vivian nodded, and Alix smiled.:: Well, in that case, when do I start? JP by Vivian Volkoff Head of Volkoff Industries As simmed by LtCmdr Sky Blake Chief of Security/Second Officer USS Avandar & Chang Director, Starfleet Intelligence USS( REDACTED) As simmed by: Major Hannibal Tiberious Parker 2nd Officer/ Marine Commander/ Chief Of Strategic Operations USS Thunder/ Duronis II Embassy

Oops, my bad. That's what I get for reading the forums after being in the lab for 4 hours straight...

Your account gets created when you graduate and are posted to a ship.

Alucard took the "Wesley Crusher" education path. He recieved training on his father's ship, so was able to test out of a lot of courses at the academy and thus accelerate the first few years. He also joined the academy a year early, at 17, which naturally moved everything else up a year.

The current date is 238901.19, which would be January 19th, 2389, UFoP is set 377 years in the future, so you just add that to the current year. Hope this helps.