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  1. cold so cold and hungry split off from the antecedent self awareness has come antecedent knows where heat and food lie follow big spinning rock leaking energy warmth and food new thing tiny thing energy pulsating more food? om nom nom nom energy drained from thing different flavor like a sucker another thing just barely out of sight more energy than tiny thing too far to fly antecedent returning displeased about tiny thing unknown source could have been poison drop tiny thing that pulsates with light and spins closer to rock probing the night follow antecedent still curious about thing but bathe in rock energy and forget Lt S'Acul Aveunalliv HCO USS Avandar
  2. Barely holding it together Lieutenant Mellita Herodion stood at her customary station, Tactical, looking like she had just gone twelve rounds with a Klingon warrior. In truth her injuries had been caused in a two minute long scuffle with a male Orion during a boarding attempt of the USS Hornet. The boarding attempt was only the last significant attempt by the Orion Syndicate to reclaim a couple hundred beings that were meant to be sold as slaves but that didn't seem to matter to Melitta anymore as it once had. Melitta didn't care because having gotten precious little sleep in the past seventy-two hours and having the Hornet attacked time and again since the rescue, the problem the Hornet's crew faced had become so much bigger. Bigger then Melitta's scrapes and bruises and definitely more concerning then a group of political refugees as the Hornet, an Akira class vessel, had been damaged to an extent that warp two was the best that the old ship could manage with rapidly diminishing weapons capabilities. The funny thing was that even while Melitta worked at her console inputting commands with practiced speed and efficiency doing her best to ignore her tiredness, Melitta couldn't think of anywhere else she would prefer to be. She wouldn't have traded her place on the Hornet for that of a Sovereign class vessel or even to be on shore leave on her home world of Til'ahn more commonly known as Duronis two. Melitta looked up to see Captain Elise Kardon come out of her ready room with a grim look on her face and not for the first time since the ordeal had started. There was no need for Kardon to ask the status of the different departments because everyone around knew the answers would have been the same as the last time they had been asked. What had changed though was updates from Star Fleet Command that Captain Kardon was undoubtedly carrying. "Getting straight to it," Kardon said. "The nearest Star Fleet vessel won't reach us for another twenty-four hours. Our orders are to continue on course until then. Oh and nice work in regards to adapting that fighter's communications array Morris." "You did mention that this isn't about slaves anymore Captain," Commander Sam Felke complained. "Hell the Syndicate is hounding us to make a point. We should.." The first officer didn't get to finish his sentence as the Captain cut him off mentioning her utter disbelief that any of her officers would suggest disobeying orders from the Admiralty let alone hers. Melitta also found the idea unthinkable both morally and ethically not to mention that abandoning a mission was a sure fire way to kill one's career. Having said that she also knew that not everyone on the Hornet chose to be on an outdated ships that got into trouble a lot. Melitta only half listened as Felke and Kardon exchanged another round of tense remarks. The more Melitta thought about the more she realized that the First Officer had been acting increasingly unusual in the past day or so. At first Melitta thought nothing of it, it was just the pressure and fatigue getting to everyone but looking up from her console once more to see the human male pull his phaser from his belt and aiming it at the Captain made Melitta quickly rethink her analysis. Melitta hadn't been involved in a mutiny before that moment but it seemed very similar to when the boarding party beamed onto the Hornet. As Captain Kardon had been standing in front of the view screen she successfully dived for the cover of one of the bridge turbolifts but that wasn't Melitta's first priority. Backing up toward the engineering alcove directly behind her she came face to face with a nervous ensign pointing his phaser at her. Before it could be fired at Melitta she grabbed the ensigns head and slammed it into the console before quickly ducking into the alcove for cover. Perhaps the difference between defending against boarding parties and mutinies was that in split seconds friends and colleagues could become the enemy. Having served with some of the people around her for years Melitta hesitated in returning fire. Feeling rapid vibrations from multiple directions signaled to Melitta that phasers were being fired or about to be so she ducked just in time to avoid one such phaser blast. Typically Melitta didn't patently make use of her fielding abilities but it had saved her life as well as remind her that allegiances had been decided when she knocked out the engineering ensign. Out of the seven officers on the bridge Melitta was the only one to support Captain Kardon. She didn't know want had been said to convince the rest of the senior bridge crew to turn on Kardon and it didn't truly matter. Being the last person standing was what counted, motives could be discovered later. Staying as low as possible Melitta fired her phaser repetitively hitting the operations and science officers with marine-like accuracy. At the same time Kardon had stunned Morris who was at the helm. That left only Kardon, Felke and Melitta conscious. Ducking to avoid another series of phaser blasts aimed at her, Melitta only rose cautiously when she heard a thump sound. In the door way of the crew break room lay Commander Felke's body, Captain Kardon standing a couple meters away. Walking back to her console slowly Melitta let out a groan as she saw several warning indicator. One of which said that another Orion vessel was only five minutes away. "Are you ok lieutenant?" Kardon asked simply but with a grateful look on her face. Melitta moved a few stray locks of hair behind her ear before replying. "No injuries Captain but we do have another Syndicate vessel incoming. ETA four minutes, arming weapons and raising shields." Melitta stated before quickly speaking again in a slightly more lively manner. "Should I call for replacement crew Captain?" ------------- Lt. Commander Arden Cain First Officer USS Mercury NCC-99812
  3. Warp core is breaching Just panic on the whole deck Will we contain it Polorise the hull? My console just exploded Get a medic now A tear in subspace A transporter just gone wrong My Hypo-spanner! "Evacuate now Let me contain the core breach" "Sir, the doors are jammed" "The Geffories Tubes It is the only way out Go, go, go, go, go" My hand is bleeding Engineering is empty I am now alone Silence on the deck "Captain to engineering What is going on" "Warp core is breaching Transporters are offline And a subspace tear" "How long till the breach" "I am guessing ten minutes" "Can you contain it" "In five minutes sir" "I will expect it in two" "Ok I will have..." "OK Make it so" Warp core breach in 7 minutes "Yes sir, aye aye sir" Wrestle with the controls I will fight until the end Got to stop the breach I am the tamer My console a fierce lion I have to tame it Lives on my shoulders The fate of the entire ship I'll eject the core I have done it The warp core floating in space I'm an engineer END ---- Lt JG Jorus Cogud Helmsman USS Discovery-C
  4. Hello, folks, and welcome to the end of July! Our tireless judges of this special short contest have convened, voted, and returned to the mysterious depths from which they came, and I'm pleased now to announce our winners. The winner of the July Writing Challenge is Alleran Tan, with his story "Ethical Considerations"! Our runner-up is Idril Mar for her "Trek Noir"! Congratulations to our winners, and thanks to everyone who participated. To those of you who were entered in the Ongoing Worlds contest, their reactions will likely be mailed straight to you; regardless, any good news will be also find a place in these forums! Thank you to this round's judges: Fleet Captain Toni Turner, Captain Kali Nicholotti, Commander Karynn Brice, and Lt. Commander Arden Cain!
  5. Salutations, wonderful writers and regular readers, and welcome to this special Writing Challenge for the month of July! Please peruse this post with proper prudence, as it contains the guidelines, rules, and other important bits regarding entering your submission, which are a little different than usual for this unique Challenge. For this month only, we'll be drawing our inspiration from Ongoing Worlds's First Person Fortnight competition. This Challenge will not have a standard theme; instead, all stories must be written as a first person narrative. To participate in the Challenge, please create a new thread. From the "Topic Prefix" selection list, choose "Jul/Aug" -- don't forget to do this, because without it your story won't be considered for this round! You may denote your story as a "Work in Progress," but please do so at the beginning of the story (not in the thread topic), and remember to finish it before the deadline, as any story noted as a work in progress will not be considered. The deadline for this challenge is July 21st! That means you have just under three weeks to get your entries in, so begin thinking now! All entries in this Challenge will be judged by our panel in the usual way, but entries will also have the option of entry into Ongoing Worlds's contest. If you'd like to also enter there, please do the following: After you've posted your entry, post a reply to the entry stating that you plan to enter on your own; that you would only like to enter the 118 Challenge, not the Ongoing Worlds contest; or that you would like your entry entered into the Ongoing Worlds contest for you. Regardless of which of the three options you choose, remember to create a reply to your entry and let us know! Some standard rules and guidelines apply: *Your story should not be any longer than 5000 words. *Your story must be written in first person perspective. *Your work must be completely original. *You must be the sole author of the work. *Your story must take place in the Star Trek universe, but may not center upon canon characters. *Sign your final draft as you would a post on your ship. As of today, Monday, July 2nd, this Challenge is open! The very last day to enter is Saturday, July 21st, so submit your entry soon! For any questions regarding our Challenge, remember that you can always visit the Writing Challenge website. For questions relating to the Ongoing Worlds contest, please see the contest link above, or post a reply to this topic asking your questions. Good luck!
  6. I had been pacing up and down the big house office, which was belonging for ages to my beloved. ‘Beloved?’ I thought to myself. I never truly loved him, so why am I lying to myself and everyone else about having loved him. 'He was true Rihannsu; pretentious, vain, sadistic and self centered. I mostly had good life with him and I respected that, but I never loved him. So why am I calling him beloved, I’m owner of everything, matriarch of the family, there’s nothing to lose if I admit it, except maybe the devotion of our children. Yes, that will always keep me from admitting the truth.’ “Where are they, why there are no updates from the team? They should be back already.” This was just another of easy missions, get in the lab, steal the information from computer, erase everything and burn all the samples they have. Nothing new, nothing different than 100 previous actions we did. ‘Only difference is I’m not there because of stupid flu.’ I was always there, because I knew there is no way I can cope with waiting and lack of information. I can’t cope with inactivity and now my legs hurt from pacing up and down the office, though I should be resting in my bed. “They are probably celebrating the success and forgot to turn the comm. system on.” Halisa was my nanny, helping hand and secretary for over 50 years. She always knew what to say to make me feel better, how to get me out of trouble and hold me together when I was losing my mind over whatever stupid problem occurred in my life since my arrival to household of Rihannsu, Rendet Ter’th. As always her comment made me smile and calm down a little. Was it her age, my respect for her or her soothing voice? No matter what it was it was always working. “Halisa, my dear.” How many times I wanted to ask her what she is still doing with me. She earned enough for cozy retirement and really don’t need to cope with nervous and panicking me all the time. ‘I will never ask her that, I can’t live without her.’ She’s my anchor in this rough Universe. Halisa rise from a sofa and hugs me. As already mentioned, she always knew best thing to do to make me feel better. Rendet never knew how to treat me. He was never good in treating anyone, so why would I be any different than others? “What bothers me is how hard it was to get the information on this lab. We never had so much trouble obtaining whatever we needed. What if...” Halisa hugged me harder shushing me. “Then you’ll figure out how to save them. But first wait to get the information from them, without inventing that worst case scenario. You should lay down a little or this flu will get worse and you’ll have to stay behind and wait next time all over again and be as jumpy as now.” “No, I have to be here when they call...” For the call that never arrived. I was right, it was a trap and my most trusted people were sitting in Federation prison. First news I received arrived whole week later... whole life later... Kolari, my first officer and trusted friend got 140 years in Federation high security prison. Hubin, his only child will join him for 120 years. Gailu and Raala, Ferengies in my team got both 120 years, but they were to return and by the agreement between Federation and Ferengi Alliance serve their time in prison on Ferenginar. Ondu Kussi, our good doctor. Bajoran I bought out from Syndicate. Always like a puppy, caring and loving. Young and innocent... 120 years in penal colony. T’Lun, shady Vulcan, quiet and dangerous demolitions specialist and gadget master. Invaluable member of the team. Even when we couldn’t buy the codes to get into the facilities she was always able to crack them and get us in. She got 140 years in high security prison, still she’s probably the only one who will ever see her family again. Before I could read all the information in first message, new one arrived. Sent by unknown sender. Probably one of the messages from the people I pay for information, no need to open it now. I don’t have team to continue my revenge run. Revenge... They killed Rendet Ter’th, my “not so” beloved husband... Why am I doing all this? Faces of my trusted people flew in front of my face. Sudden realization that they would never be assigned prison time if they revealed the person in charge makes me tremble. They revealed nothing; they protected me to the end. I screamed in rage and impotence. Romulan woman entered the office attracted by my screaming. “Halisa, help me. Tell me what to do!” I’m tossing the padd with a message in her direction. “What can you do?” She asked as calm and logical as always. “I don’t know Halisa, I don’t know. I can’t leave them to rot in prison for me.” Can I? If I do that it will be as I accepted Romulan ways. Did my life as a Romulan servant, wife, matriarch turned me in that. Have I lost heart or can I be saved. I’m 264, a lot for many, but young for El-Aurian. It is not how I was razed; it is not what I was destined for. Or maybe it was my destiny, maybe I had to live all the hardships to can handle this in the way best for my family. “I’ll make you raktajino, Lotte. Whatever you decide, it requires lot of thinking to can make good decision.” I just nod, though she already left the office. Second message... I have to open it. Why the feeling I have to open it when I know there’s no way I will gather team in time for it to be important. I’m still opening the message. ‘You can save your people if you surrender and confess your crimes. When you respond to this message it will open the channel to the negotiator who has permission to accept the deal deemed best for everyone. We’ll be ready whenever you call.” Halisa entered office and run to me aware that something is badly wrong. I’m trembling, rather shaking violently. “What’s wrong?” I’m showing her a message and again as always end in her bear hug. I’m crying, first just tears falling down my silent face then sobbing and shaking turning into a cry, scream, desperation. I wanted to save my people, my family. So why am I so afraid now? It’s Federation; they are weak and too nice to be vicious. I can deal with them... can I? I’m afraid. No, I’m frightened and my body knows that... I’m shaking and crying unstoppably. Halisa is carrying me to the sofa, covering me with soft blanket. As warm and soft as it is, it’s not helping me to feel any warmer. My chest hurts from hyperventilating; my eyes burn from tears and body hurts from emotional rollercoaster. “Leave me; I don’t want to be disturbed. Don’t let anyone in till I call you.” Halisa bowed and left the office. Three days later, after lot of tears, fear and changing my mind over and over again I made my decision. “Halisa, gather my children and Commanders, I made the decision.” Waiting for them to gather I took a shower and changed in fresh clothes. Three days in same clothes in closed office made me smell worse than lab dump. Refreshed and in clean clothes I brushed my hair and returned to the ventilated Office. Of course, as always and with everything Halisa took care of that. Speed with which everyone arrived was fascinating. “As you all know last action of my secret team you all knew everything about was a setup.” Her team was not public thing, but Romulans behaved as Romulans and she was getting information on who investigated the team from T’Lun regularly. Even her sons rather investigated it, than to ask her directly. “My people decided to keep quiet and save me, but I can’t leave it that way. Lab and factory to can work properly needs our connections in Orion Syndicate. Orions hold family to the highest regard and if I let my people, who are as much my family as you are to rot in prison when I can save them, would surely destroy respect we have in their orders and make further cooperation impossible. This is not up for debate, I made decision to surrender and I’ll negotiate terms as soon as you all leave the office. Dismissed!” As always they accepted my order and left the office, but as soon as the doors closed the discussion started and it obviously was not friendly since I could hear them yelling at each other for some time. It made me chuckle, actually. I will have to ask Halisa what it they were so passionate about was. I made a good point explaining my decision to my family, it was not my personal real reason, but my family needs strong and logical matriarch and not emotional mother who can’t leave her people to hang for her. Less they need an El-Aurian fed up with life among Romulans. Now the message... Negotiations took the best of me, after two days I was drained and almost ready to give up, when they came up with best offer ever. My people will be pardoned but have to stay out the Federation Space. My 120 years in high security prison was changed into service in Starfleet. After the Academy I will have to serve for at least 50 years in the Fleet before I can ask discharge from service. I can’t leave Federation space till my full 120 years of fine pass, but I will be allowed to travel freely throughout the Federation Space. Fair deal? No, not really. Two of my sons are serving in Romulan Military. They can’t visit me and I can’t visit them. After finding them fight who will be taking me there I decided to go in Family yacht. They escorted me to the Neutral Zone, both, with their whole fleet. I kissed Tapaul and Takath and beamed from Family yacht to Starfleet vessel waiting for me in Neutral Zone to take me to my new life... Lieutenant JG Vid-Lotilija Ph.D. Chief Science Officer USS Apollo http://goo.gl/A9TZT ~Newsletter Team Facilitator~ People say you can't live without love... ...I think oxygen is more important!
  7. ((USS Apollo, Sickbay, Now)) The room was packed with wall to wall casualties intermixed with medics rushing to save as many as they could. The sound was unbelievable. A wild mix of yells, shouted orders cries and moans of pain. A truly chaotic mess with no end in sight. One where everyone was stressed, struggling with the enormity of the situation. So it was no wonder that some of the worse cases had been shuffled to the back out of the way. Ones that nothing more could be done for. Like the young female Andorian Lt. jg. that had been recovered from the USS Nelson. She was alive, her vital statistics were close to stable but she was completely 100% brain dead. Just another of those hopeless cases that could be forgotten about until the more immediate needs of the other patients had been dealt with. Right next to her was another Andorian. This one was different. He was tall, so tall that his feet hung out past the end of the bed but that was not the only difference. Where her face had relaxed into a calm relaxed pose that resembled sleep his face was a rigid mask that could have been carved from stone. Between that and his massive physical structure he still possessed a faint air of grim determination. Like the female he was unconscious with no visible injuries or damage. Unlike the female he still had brain activity, unfortunately his was erratic. Something about the strange alien creature they had encountered was affecting him in ways they could not understand. So for now he rested alone near the back. Hooked up to various monitors, ones that normally would be heard and responded to, but that were ignored due to the cries, moans and yells of frantic patients, doctors and nurses pushed to the brink. Fighting to live, save another life or prolong the inevitable as long as possible. Cmdr. Tal Tel-ar was completely oblivious to all of this. To the conditions around him, the female beside him. Even to the fact that he was here, shuffled out of the way. His mind adrift in a sea of confusion, lost amid the shattered memories that had once been his life. ((Ten-nok VII, 23 years ago)) Tal reached up and wiped the blood from his face. His steel gray eyes watching carefully, waiting for the next attack. There were 3 of them. All older students here in the military training barracks. They eyed him with disgust, mocking expressions on their faces as they prepared to finish what they had started. Short clubs made of carved hard wood, baked under the harsh desert sun until they were as hard as metal clenched in their hands. When they moved, they moved as one. Their training showing in the tactics that they used to ensure he had no way to escape. Unfortunately for them Tal had no intention of running. He curled into a lose ball, seemingly scared as if he hoped to protect his vital regions by doing so. It was a ruse, one that worked. At least long enough that he was able to kick out with all his strength. His heel connected with the soft tissue associated with most species male reproductive organs. Tal never stopped moving. He followed it up by rolling to his left and using a leg sweep to take the feet out from under that attacker. Even then he never stopped moving, he continued to roll and only stopped when he slammed into the fallen body of the lad he had knocked down. They grappled with his opponent seeking to use his club while Tal merely reached out and grabbed his head. One swift twist followed by a sudden snap and a last final gasp and Tal let go, pushing himself off and over the now suddenly thrashing body. He was just in time as the edge of one of the clubs just missed his head. It did however slam into the skull of the still thrashing boy shattering his skull. Tal crouched, watching as his last standing opponent started to circle looking for an opening. Behind him in a pool of his own vomit lay the one he had kicked. His body was wracked by twitches and spasms as he continued to moan and gasp. Suddenly his entire body convulsed and he retched throwing up some more. Tal started to shift his body weight when someone kicked him from behind. His opponent took advantage of this and rushed forward club raised ready for use…. ((Ten-nok VII, 26 years ago)) Tal lay on the cool stone of the cave entrance. Outside the blazing sun was slowly starting to set. Hazy heat waves still confused his vision but soon that would change. The temperature would drop and he needed to find some food quickly. He had not eaten in almost 4 days and he could feel his stomach protesting as a result. Fortunately that was his only worry. Deep inside the cave was a small pool of clear water so he never lacked for that. Suddenly he spotted a small shadow low on the horizon. As he watched it slowly came closer. There was something unusual about it. He had never seen anything like it. As he continued to watch he saw that it was really more than one thing approaching. It was a small group of strange looking creatures. They moved in single file, one behind the other. What made them unusual was that they looked faintly like him but instead of blue skin these had dark crimson skin tones and wore strange things on their bodies. He wondered if there was a reason for the strange items even as he continued to watch and wonder what they were…. ((Ten-nok VII, 23 years ago)) Tal slammed the boys head into the stone pillar one last time then let him fall. Even as he did it he moved to put the wall behind him ready for the next attack. His steel gray eyes scanning the other students even as he spotted a small group of their instructors standing off to one side watching. Just then one of them stepped forward. He moved to the center of the room, stepped over one body and then turned to address the crowd. His stern face giving no indication of what he was thinking as he started to explain what Tal had done right and what he had done wrong to win the fight. For Tal it was enough that he had survived, he no longer sought or cared what his instructors thought when it came to him. All that mattered was learning all he could and being prepared for the next sneak attack….. ((Earth, Starfleet Academy, 15 years ago)) Tal walked along the corridor. As he did he scanned the numbers on the doors looking for the one they had told him was his. He found it, about half way down the hall and immediately opened the door and walked in. As he did he heard a strange high pitched shriek. It made his antenna twitch and he turned towards the sound. There on the bed lay 2 people. One was obviously a male. Most likely human as he resembled so many of that unusual species. The other was female with long lavender hair, exotic purple eyes and she seemed to be upset about something as she grabbed for the sheets and quickly covered up her naked body. Tal turned away, his eyes scanning the room. One half was decorated and obviously occupied while the other was bare with only the bed, desk and a closet. He stepped over and dropped his stuff on the bed as he heard movement from behind him. Turning back he was surprised to be confronted by what seemed to be an enraged male almost as tall as himself. The man had long shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes and a well developed athletes body, one that had seen a lot of sun if the bronze skin tones were any indication. When he spoke he had an unusual accent that seemed to suit him. “Hey, what do you think your doing.” “I was told by student registration that these would be my quarters. I assume that since you are using that bed, that this one is mine.” Tal replied calmly. “That’s not what I meant. Didn’t you see the do not disturb sign on the door.” “No. Did you require privacy?” “Yeah. What the hell did you think I was doing when you barged in?” “I have no idea. Regardless I will not intrude on your activities. You may proceed.” With that Tal turned and reached for the single, small duffle bag that held every thing he owned. Suddenly he was grabbed by the shoulder and Tal spun back faster than expected. He easily blocked the punch and was about to return it when he forced himself not to. He had no idea why this man was so angry but as much as he wanted to pound him, he may have had reason to do as he did. Not for the first time Tal felt totally out of place. As Tal just stood there he noticed the facial expression on the other guy change. He had no idea what that meant, but he did understand the sudden relaxation of his tensed muscles. He was no longer willing to continue their physical disagreement. “You really do not know do you?” “I am not sure I understand the question.” Tal replied. “Ha, ha, you are one weird dude. I think this is going to be one hell of a year.” As he said it Tal let him go and stepped back. “My names Jason Stone, from the sunny beaches of Australia here on Earth and that lovely young lass over there behind me is Risa Tial from Bandora IV.” Tal looked at first one then the other before he responded. Jason had a huge smile on his face while the girl merely gave him a small grin and nodded in response. “I am Tal Tel-ar, I am Andorian from Ten-nok VII.” “Never heard of the place, anyway now that we have been properly introduced could I ask you to go take a very long walk and get acquainted with the grounds.” Jason asked with a grin. “Me and Risa were just discussing various aspects of interspecies bonding and it is probably going to take a while.” Tal looked at first him then the girl before he replied. “As you wish.” Then he gave a slight nod of his head and headed towards the exit….. ((USS Apollo, Sickbay, Now)) A young female nurse paused to examine the data readouts on the monitors and automatically did a reset and diagnostic. When the readouts remained the same she quickly turned and waved her arm to get someone’s attention. It worked and a few seconds later she got a response. “What is it?” “His neural activity is getting more erratic. Dropping close to coma levels with occasional spikes that could indicate synopsis failure.” “Increase the setting on the neural stimulators to 21.86 and give him 85 cc’s of dopamine and 120 cc’s of phloraphine.” “Understood Doctor, anything else?” “Just keep an eye on him and pray.” With that he turned away and hurried over to his next patient…. ((USS Eagle, Tal’s personnel quarters, 6 years ago)) Tal stood in the center of his room. His tall athletic body slowly twisting and turning through a complex series of ancient movements that did not over tax his current physical capabilities. At least he could stand now. For a while he feared he might never walk on his own again. As the thought drifted through his mind he glanced over to where the hover chair he had been confined to for the last year sat waiting in case he might need it again. Doing so momentarily messed up his concentration and he over extended causing a sudden sharp jolt of pain to slam into his spine which nearly caused him to fall over. He caught himself and slowly straightened up. As he did Tal clenched his fists. It was the only outward sign that he was [...]ed. Otherwise he was as he always was, apparently calm and unconcerned. Just then his door chime sounded. For a moment he almost did not recognise the sound. No one ever visited him in his quarters. In fact no one ever spent any time around him off duty and very few spent any time around him on duty. Without a second thought Tal walked over towards the door as he spoke. “Enter.” The door responded to his voice and automatically opened to reveal Ensign Elina Kincaide. She stood there holding his back brace in her hands. She had shoulder length black hair, clear pale skin and for some reason her face suddenly turned beet red. Tal stood there waiting for a moment before he repeated his statement. “You may enter Ensign.” “Ahh…. Thank you sir… “ For some reason she seemed uneasy. She kept looking anywhere but at him and each time her eyes strayed in his direction she seemed to get a little redder. “Is there a problem Ensign?” “Your naked…..” ((Cart’hen III, City of Mith, Police detention cell, 7 years ago)) Tal hung from the ceiling, his feet about a foot off the floor. His clothes lay in a pile near by and he felt a slight chill from the cold damp air. He must be pretty far underground for him to feel like that. Either that or he was in worse condition than he thought. He knew that up above on the surface that it would be 45 to 50 degrees in the shade. A mild day according to the locals. He heard a sound and managed to lift his head. He could only see out of one eye and as he expected it was the same man that had been questioning him for the last few hours. Evidently it was time for some new questions. “You must be feeling a little tired by now. Tell you what. Admit that you’re a hired assassin and I’ll cut you down.” Tal tried to speak, managed to swallow and finally croaked out a reply. “Lt. Cmdr. Tal Tel-ar. Federation Officer, USS Eagle.” He was rewarded with a sudden massive blow to his lower back that sent jolts of pain flashing up and down his body. “Lets try that again @#$%^&*. Admit that you’re a Federation assassin.” Tal fought the waves of pain that threatened to wash over him and spoke again. “I am Lt. Cmdr. Tal Tel-ar. Federation Officer, USS Eagle.” Again he was struck with the yard long steel rod. This time he failed to ride the waves of pain…. ((USS Eagle, Engineering, 6 years ago)) Tal looked up at the current Chief Engineer as he spoke, something that he was slowly getting use to ever since he had been confined to this @#$%^& hover chair. “Lt. Chalmers, I understand that your staff are busy. I only require 1 of them to make the necessary repairs and recalibrate my back brace.” “Look sir. I understand your wanting to be able to get up and walk but the ship took one hell of a pounding. We’re lucky to still have power and we’re trying to keep it that way.” “Lt. I would appreciate it if you could assign someone to repair this device today.” As he said it Tal held up the damaged back brace that he was holding. Lt. Chalmers ran one hand through his hair while looking around. He looked tired and slightly worn out as his eyes searched the room looking for something. “All right. Ensign Kincaide over there is probably the best suited to the job. Tell her I said she needs to fix it. Now if you’ll excuse me sir, I have work to do.” With that he turned and walked off. Tal activated the controls on his hover chair and floated over to where she was crouched down in front of an access panel. Her tool box was open beside her and she was busy working on something and muttering under her breath while doing it. “Ensign. May I have a word with you.” Tal asked. “Look I’m busy. Go fix it yourself.” She replied with out turning around. “If I could I would Ensign. However this device requires more skilled hands that I have.” She muttered a groan as she pulled her arms out of the opening in front of her and stood up while turning around.“Look can’t you see I’m busy…. Ohhh….”Suddenly her expression of exasperation changed to one of surprise and contrition. “Sorry sir…. I didn’t realize… I mean….” ((Cart’ hen III, City of Mith, Subterranean tunnel, 7 years ago)) They hurried along the narrow passage way ignoring the stench and occasional clump of noxious material. Between the 2 largest members of the rescue team hung the naked form of their Chief of Security, Lt. Cmdr. Tal Tel-ar. He looked like hell warmed over and then stomped by a herd of wild bison. Suddenly they slowed to a stop. “What’s wrong?” “I’m not sure but I think he’s coming to. Besides I gotta rest a moment Lt. Cmdr.” Was the panted reply. “The chief ain’t some lightweight you know.” “All right take 10. Palmer check him out. Let me know his status.” “Sure thing.” He replied as he moved forward and started to conduct an examination. Tal opened his one eye and looked around. Things were a little blurry but he recognised the people around him. Evidently they had sprung him from his situation. He tried to reach out and grab the man next to him. Instead it was he who reached out and took his hand. “Cmdr. Tel-ar. Listen to me. We have to get you to the ship. You have massive internal injuries and extensive damage to your spine. Do you understand?” Tal tried to speak as his eyes rolled back into his head. The last thing he heard was, “We’re losing him sir. We got to ……” ((USS Apollo, Sickbay, Now)) “DOCTOR!!!” yelled the nurse from where she stood next to the bed holding the impressive figure of an Andorian Cmdr. “Neural activity is dropping.” Suddenly she was pushed aside as the doctor rushed up to see for himself just what was going on. His fingers moved to the neural simulators and increased the charge, more than doubling their output. “Sir isn’t that setting dangerously high?” “It is but we need to try and stimulate activity. Last thing I want is to tell the Captain we have 2 brain dead Andorians down here.” “Understood.” “Get me 50 cc’s of adrenalin, 200 cc’s of Zormadine, 35 cc’s of Korvindamine and another 60 cc’s of phloraphine.” “I thought you couldn’t use Korvindamine on Andorians. It was considered too risky.” She asked as she prepared the meds requested. “It is but I’m hoping the phloraphine will lessen the bad side affects and give us a positive response.” The doctor replied as he took the first hypo spray and administered the medication. As soon as he was done he reached for the next one. ((Earth, Scotland, Kincaide Manor, 4 years ago)) Tal turned to watch as Elina and her father walked slowly towards him. She looked radiant dressed all in white and he had to wonder again how he had ended up here. It had been a strange, surreal experience for him. One in which he was never really sure how and why they were together. Not that he regretted it. No in fact for some peculiar reason he really did not understand he not only enjoyed being with her but looked forward to every moment spent with her. ((USS Apollo, Sickbay, Now)) The nurse suddenly reached over and stopped the doctor from applying the hypo spray in his hand. “Nurse. What do you think your doing?” “Look at the monitor. His adrenal levels just jumped.” “What?” Exclaimed the doctor as he turned to examine the data displayed for himself. “But that’s impossible.” ((USS Challenger-A, 3 years ago)) “Well Doctor how is she?” Tal asked as soon as the doctor had entered the room. “Honestly she is doing better than expected. As you know there was some concern since most mothers of hybrid species babies suffer some complications.” “You explained all this to me all ready Doctor. My concern right now is for my wife.” “Well in that case Cmdr. I can tell you she is in great condition and so are your 4 babies. You may go in and join her if you like.” “Thank you Doctor.” Tal replied as he turned and headed towards the room he knew Elina was in. ((USS Apollo, Sickbay, Now)) “What is it?” asked the nurse. The doctor turned towards her with a confused look on his face as he replied. “I’m not sure. Somehow his body is fighting what ever is happening to him.” “Could this be a normal physiological reaction due to his species?” “I doubt it. Patients about to drop into a coma never suddenly start to produce adrenaline, cortisone, endorphines, seratonin, or dopamine. Let alone at such levels. It’s like his body is trying to kick start his neural activity on its own.” ((USS Challenger-A, 2 years ago)) Tal stood on the bridge. His gaze fixed to the forward view screen ahead of him. This was it. His first real command, this was the chance of a lifetime. One he planned not to waste. After all he had been through, growing up as a primitive barbarian on a pre-industrial world, then to be found and educated but tossed away by his own species, forever bared from returning to Andor by an act of the Science Council. Finding himself suddenly among strangers all over again, lost in a world he never really understood even though he enjoyed the challenges of the Academy. Even his career with Starfleet, spending most of his time as an Ensign in one brig or another every time he got shore leave. Returning to the Academy for more training, then making the rounds as he served on first one ship then another. Follow that by meeting and falling in love with a human female who due to severe complications during her second pregnancy had left Starfleet and him to return to Earth. Now this…. ((USS Apollo, Sickbay, Now)) “He’s starting to convulse. It’s too much for his system.” Exclaimed the Doctor as he threw his upper body on top of the suddenly convulsing Andorian on the bed in front of him. “What can I do?” asked the nurse. “Reduce the neural stimulators output by 50% first then give him 75 cc’s of Covalinamine.”The doctor ordered as he was almost tossed off. The convulsions were getting worse. The nurse did as ordered then added her body weight to that of the doctors. Even then he easily bounced the 2 of them around. Suddenly his entire body arched, held that pose for a couple seconds then he collapsed to lie still. They both waited a few moments before they stood up, glancing at each other to make sure they were both all right. Then the doctor checked the data on the monitors did a couple quick scans and finally turned to face the nurse with a small smile on his tired features. “He should be ok now. Just let him sleep.” Then he turned to go help the next patient that needed help.
  8. This is posted on behalf of Ensign Edward Johnson. ------------------------------- I turned from that strange place with those vibrant and eccentric minds. The entity called Nari Covania had been an excellent conduit to communicate with the world. If only those other entities had not been so hostile, I would have been communicable. And the entity Nari Covania would never had to destroy the other entities. And that entity had a strong will. So strong... I regret of having to use her. And those... memories? They were so vivid... it was stirring something inside... what was it? A remnant of that memory was still coursing through me. The sensation of an entity brushing his... lips? Yes, it seems to be the word the entities used. The sensation of lips brushing against entity Nari Covania's and the resulting explosion of longing... This is making me sick with the feeling. This longing.... I do not know what I am longing for. It is powerful though, and the more I ponder on it, the more this feeling grows. This emotion is unlike anything I felt before. I sense something. There is something coming around the corner. No, there is four of these entities. And there is something with them that is too vibrant to be them. One of the entities is probing the area ahead of the rest with... tricorder. Yes, that is the word that entity Nari Covania had in her memories. The moment it touches me, the probe passing through me and disappearing into the device, the entities suddenly stop. I shiver in expectancy. There is a power with them that burns bright. The entities round the corner of the hallway. They are looking down a long object... Suddenly, the word comes to me through entity Nari Covania's memories. Phaser. A weapon. They are aiming at me.:: I understand them. They are closing in... too close... It is too much to take. I release my pent up energy in a brilliant flash. I feel myself grow weaker at it but I do not care. A sudden burn next to me shoots radiant energy all across me. It is painful... I fear for my life. I turn away and go towards the other end of the hall. I feel energy pulsing in the walls. I am beginning to feel weak from all the exertions. I need energy. Ironically, I do believe that is the correct word from entity Nari Covania's memories, another burst of energy lands next to me. Fearing the entities, I come close to the wall. Part of it appears fake. In desperation, I jump towards the influx of energy. I easily push through the cracks f the wall and suddenly find myself surrounded by everything. Information and energy is everywhere... Now I learn that I am in a... Achilles-class ship... USS Apollo... NCC-71669... Captain Andrus Jaxx... United Federation of Planets... Starfleet... Earth... Now I know that they come from one place. I do not know from where I came from. The one I knew that was a part of me is gone. I felt the connection tear and rip painfully as entity Nari Covania resisted me. I screamed in pain. I scream again, from the anguish it has caused me. As I do so, a surge from me spreads across these systems I now inhabit. Suddenly, everything becomes harder to see... it feels as if the entities have become alarmed. I sit in the midst of a swirling current of energy, waiting for the entities to try and find me. As I sit there, I finally know the source of my longing. Information from the... ship... tells me of the part I knew is gone from this dimension. The source of my longing is coming from the fact there is nothing like my kind left. I know that there is perhaps a dozen in our universe but here, there is none. As I sit in what is called the auxiliary deflector control, I realize something. I am alone... and I long for my kind. The Inter-dimensional Creature Ensign Edward Johnson Helm USS Apollo
  9. Idril Mar

    Trek Noir

    The twin suns beat down on the harsh desert like a redheaded step-child, which was ironic in a way, because I'm a redhead myself. The guy sitting next to me didn't look much better in this sun, being a blonde with a bad sense of humor and a worse attitude at the moment. My name: Idril Mar. His: Danny Wilde. "Well, it looks like they took the converter matrix." I slid out from under the relay, standing and dusting off the backside of my pants. "And that is…," said Danny from behind me, where I knew he was admiring my now slightly-less dusty backside. "That is, Lieutenant, the piece that makes this hunk of scrap work." I replied acidly, kicking the centuries-old piece of junk like a dog that had just relieved itself all over my favorite rug. I was hot, tired, hungry and fed up with his attitude, even if he was easy on the eyes and I was mildly interested in him. We had been stranded together on this backwater no-water planet for a little over 4 days. The heat in the day was scorching and the nights were as cold as my grandmother's freezer box back home, the kind of cold that made your face think it was awake but tried its best to drain the life out of your backside while you weren't looking. Thankfully we had stumbled onto a cave system that had apparently been used by some race as a hideout from the scorching outside. It provided a little bit of shelter from the hot and the cold, as well as some water, but the only technology of any use, planted, as luck would have it, about 30 feet out in the suns, was this stupid communications relay,. Believe me, when I say stupid, I don't mean it lightly. I mean stupid like the Pakleds, not that I'm racist or anything. This relay was wired up like somebody's Altarian spaghetti bowl and it had taken me two days just to unwind it and figure out that it was a relay in the first place, then another day to figure out what was wrong with it. The only thing wrong with it was that it was missing the most important piece and that piece had likely wandered off recently. The 3-toed footprints next to the relay told that story well-enough. "Hey, look, I wonder if these footprints could lead us anywhere," my sharp-witted companion said, being as he was a security officer with a self-believed knack for investigation. I just rolled my eyes and tried not to say anything too far over his head technologically speaking. As we followed them, they led back into the cave complex, but through an entrance that the two of us had not yet gone into. Standing at the opening, I smelled a smell, something that made me want to retch, something that spoke of of our 'collectors' being a race without nostrils. Danny covered his nose, for all the good I figured that it did him. "Are you sure we need that thing?" My nose, being more sensitive than his, was looking for a way to crawl off the back side of my head as I nodded tersely to him. "In we go, then." Danny has this way of pointing out the obvious, like a doctor pointing out the injuries on a red-shirt to the redshirt, though they didn't make it back too often as it was. I ignored it and followed him in. Unlike our part of the caves, lit by crystals that let in some sunlight, this one was dark, dark like a starless night. It took a few moments to let our eyes adjust before we could see that this cave was really a tunnel, one that went deeper into the rocks than ours. I took the flashlight out of my utility belt, standard issue for any engineer would her salt, which I liked to believe I was, and we walked on, following the footprints like some modern-day Hansel and Gretel, only hopefully there wasn't a witch at the end of the trail bent on eating us. We'd walked for about five minutes into the inky blackness, the dim illumination from my flashlight the only thing showing the way, when we realized something was down the hall from us, something glowing. I turned off the light and we could see that it was glowing green. It was a sickly green, the color that food gets when you leave it in the replicator for a couple of days without recycling it, the color that makes you think about slime and other things that tend to turn your stomach. Walking a little bit further, we came up to the edge of a large cavern. As we looked in, the inhabitants saw us too. I'll spare you all the gorey details, but suffice to say that, despite some sort of energy-dampening field that prevented our use of our phasers, we managed to 'take care of business,' if you know what I mean. A little while later, we were back out in the scorching sun, where I finished plugging the stupid converter matrix back into the relay and soldered the last connection nice and tight. Standing up, my muscles screamed at me; the fight over this piece of machinery had been brutal such that it felt like a pair of prize-fighters were still beating on me. Danny and I were both bruised head to toe and bleeding in a couple places. "This had better be worth it," I said as I reached for what I thought was the power switch to turn on the relay. At that very moment, a Federation type-9 shuttle appeared in the sky overhead. A voice crackled out of my comm-badge. "I hope you two behaved yourselves on your vacation," the voice said, with the grin on the pilot's face as plain through the clear signal as the flickering light running through the hard-won matrix in front of me. Such was the life of an engineer.
  10. Captain's log, personal. Filed under security lockout. It's rare that I don't make my log entries available for public view, and I realize that, like all Captains' logs they've become almost required reading at Starfleet Academy to train the new cadets, but there are some things a Captain must keep to himself. I just finished writing the last of the letters that will be delivered to the families of the fallen. This mission was, to say the least, highly demanding in both blood and treasure. A lost ship, a bioweapon, and dozens of lives lost. As Captain, I'm expected to write the letters, say the appropriate things, and move on. As a senior Captain in Starfleet the demands become even more absurd-I'm expected to get used to it. I'm expected to set my jaw as I look at the young Vulcan burned beyond recognition while fighting a fire in Engineering. I'm expected to keep a..I believe the humans call it, a "stiff upper lip" as I pass by the now-still body of a friend who was killed in a firefight. I'm even expected to keep my emotions under control when a killer who has haunted my family for a decade is freed from prison and allowed to roam free on my ship. And I somehow managed to do all of these things. But these four walls will tell no tales. This terminal will lock the entry away so that only I can retrieve it. And here I can truly say how I feel and let those emotions out for a long-deserved walk around my soul; for I am haunted. Haunted by ghosts from my past-all of those poor people that I'm expected to go on without. All of the flag-draped coffins and, even worse, empty graves, that are supposed to symbolize and epitomize the person. If I were to let the cynic in me run wild, I would snort in derision at the notion that they died for a noble cause. My Ba'ku upbringing demands that I believe every life is precious and needed in this universe; that the loss of even one soul diminishes us all. And somewhere I believe that. But there's something else I believe as well. These people died fighting to keep what is precious to them from perishing. Each and every soul that I have laid to rest, each letter I've written to grieving parents, DOES have a meaning. It MUST, or I dishonor not only the person who has died but the cause they died for. I and everyone else sleep under the blanket of protection that they helped provide. Our way of life, our government, and our freedom is regularly cleansed and washed in the blood of patriots. Their sacrifice gives me the freedom to make this log entry. The freedom to raise my children as I see fit, in a society where I control who my leaders are and the laws that are made. They even allow those who want to destroy that society to have a voice, because freedom isn't freedom without it. Their sacrifice allows any race, creed, color, sexual orientation and intelligence to have an equal voice in their society and how it functions. By no means are we perfect, and by no means were their deaths somehow more or less effective than in the past-all life is significant, just as all freedom is precious. As I sit here tonight, in my comfortable chair, gazing out the window of a starship that represents that society and defends her, I pray that they shall not have died in vain, and that their sacrifice is remembered by those who knew them, and respected by those who live in freedom because of them. Computer, end log. ============================== Captain Tyr Waltas Commanding Officer USS Discovery
  11. Hi all! Welcome to the July/August round of the Writing Challenge! Please read this post carefully for new guidelines on entering your submissions! Following in challenge traditions, the July/August round uses an archetype as inspiration for entries. Joining us on the judging panel for this round is the May/June winner, Captain Della Vetri, who has decided on the following topic for this round: "Fortune" You're free to interpret that however you like for your entries - will you go for luck, wealth or another interpretation of the archetype? Guidelines: To participate, create a new thread. The subject of the thread must be the title of your story, preceded by the tag [2011: JUL/AUG], which is a requirement for entries that will be used when we archive the entries at the end of the round. If it is a Work In Progress, denote that at the top of the post itself (in the body text, not in the thread title). As with last round it will be the final draft posted in your topic that will be read and taken into consideration. Any unfinished entries marked as Work In Progress will not be considered for judging and will be moved to the "Character Cafe" forum at the end of the contest. Your work must be entirely your own. No co-authoring. You are welcome to create any character you so desire, but they must be from the Star Trek universe. No "canon" characters allowed. (i.e.- No one who has been on a show.) Length: No more than 3000 words accepted. Beginning Date: Sunday, July 17th Ending Date: Saturday, August 27th See Also: the Writing Challenge Website Challenge: “Fortune” Good luck everyone!
  12. Tal Tel-ar

    JUL/AUG Miner, Miner, Forty-niner

    Miner, Miner, Forty-niner Angus sat up coughing and knocked the dust and small rocks off him. This had been the third small cave in this week and the worst by far. True only a tiny section of the roof had caved in but the rock was just seemed with cracks. Some so big he could stick his hand in them. He needed a break so he crawled out along the long tunnel he had dug. At the entrance he pulled on his mask and breathing tank before opening the rusted safety hatch that he had rigged up over the opening to the tunnel. Outside he finally stood up and stretched the kinks out of his back. His hands and knees were sore ever though he was wearing knee pads and heavy miner’s gloves. After a few minutes he almost felt human again. During that time he looked around. It was the same dull reddish sand and rock for as far as the eye could see, that he had been looking at for the last month. With a grunt he walked the short distance to where his small ship was parked. It was invisible except from a few feet away thanks to the camouflage netting and liberal usage of small rocks and lots of sand. A necessary precaution since he did not have permission to be on this [...]py planet. Once inside his ship he collapsed into the easy chair he had bolted to the floor. He was starting to feel his age. All 68 years of it. His daughter had been after him to quit and settle down on New Scotland with the rest of the family, but he had been a prospector for most of his life. Besides he was broke. He owed the ship yard a ton of credits for the last set of repairs that they had done for his old ship Anna-bell. Looking around he just could not imagine not waking up on her and getting geared up for a day of work. They had been together ever since he managed to s[...]e up the money to buy her. She had been old even then but she had been well maintained and while she did not have any of the bells and whistles that newer ships had she had kept him alive more times than he wanted to count. Still he could not avoid time. Neither of them could. Anna-bell was on her last legs. It would take more credits than he had ever had to fix her up properly. All he had been able to afford the last 20 years or so was the bare minimum to keep her running. That’s why he was here. He wanted to try one last time to strike it rich. He had searched just about every asteroid belt, planetoid and rock ball within 3 sectors of New Scotland. Everything that is except for those that fell within the Klingon Empire and the Romulan Empire. Now that the Hobus star had exploded destroying both Romulas and Remus he had decided to take a risk and search one very promising planet just inside the neutral zone. It had all the right characteristics and developmental history that would indicate the presence of valuable minerals or crystals. In fact the Romulans had done some major mining work on the planet years ago, but had long since closed down operations. When he had arrived he had spent 4 days scanning the planet trying to pick the best location to try his luck and had finally selected his current camp. The deciding factor had been the towering cliff beside him. At some time in the long dead past some violent planetary upheaval had shatter the planets crust and resulted in this 500 meter tall cliff. In most places tons of rock had fallen making it impossible for him to even attempt to prospect the base of the cliff. That is all but here. He had almost 63 feet in which to work right at the base of the cliff. So far it had been promising but with no real pay off. Not even enough to repay the credits he had borrowed to pay for this trip. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. He was tired. Deep down bone tired. All he wanted to do was rest….. ************** He awoke with a start. A glance at the time piece on the wall showed that he had been asleep for almost 9 hours. He felt better, a little less exhausted but he was going to have to face facts. He was no longer a spring chicken. After he had eaten a bit he returned to the mine. Once inside he crawled the 630 odd feet to the end of the tunnel. As usual every time he looked up at the roof he started to sweat. This was crazy. What was he thinking. He could sell Anna-bell and pay off his debts. No. That would be giving in and he had never been one to surrender when the going got tough. He was not about to start now. He picked up his tools and got to work. It was slow work. He had to scan each area before he used his laser to cut out another section of rock. Each time he heard a creak or dust and pebbles started to fall from the roof he would break out in a cold sweat all over. He would wait, mouth feeling a bit dryer each time it happened, then when nothing happened he would return to work. He was about to give up for the day when he saw a gleam in the newly created hole. With another 10 minutes of work he had managed to cut away enough rock to see it better. In the light they looked like amber coloured crystals. It took another 15 minutes to get them out. Then he called it a day and taking them with him started to crawl back to the entrance. **************** Angus sat in his chair. The 3 crystals lay on his table with in reach of his hand. He had carefully removed all the dead rock and then cleaned them up. Now they sparkled in the light. Based on the scans and the last price he had listed on his computer they would almost pay off his debt for making this trip. Almost. Problem was did he want to risk looking for more. The rock was getting worse. More crumbly and the frequency of the cracks had increased. It was only a matter of time before it all caved in. Before he found these crystals he had been thinking of calling it quits and trying a different location. Now… 5days. He would work the mine for 5 more days. Not a second longer. *************** Angus lay in the tunnel covered in dust. The last rumble had been the worst one yet. His mouth was dry and he felt like wetting himself but somehow he kept it together. Over the last 2 days the mine had really started to pan out. He had 3 and a half small bags of crystals back on his ship. Enough to pay off all his debts. Problem was the deeper he got the worse the rock got. He could almost break the rock up with his bare hands to extract the crystals. He had never seen rock this bad in his life, but he had also never seen such a rich vein of crystals either. The deeper he went the better it got. 2 more days. Just 2 more days and he would call it quits. *************** Unbelievable. The crystal he held in his hands was almost the size of a small child’s fist. He had never seen one that big and he had a couple others that were almost as big as well. Today had been the best so far. He could see the crystals just about every where he looked now. As soon as he dug one out, he would reveal another one. RRRRUUUMMMBBLLEE!!!!!!! Angus kicked out scrambling away from the face of his mine. His legs churning to propel him down the tunnel as fast as he could. When the ground heaved under him he rolled into a ball and covered his head. Every prayer he had ever heard raced through his mind in a confused jumble. Only after the ground stopped moving did he realize that not only was he alive but still in one piece. Well most of him. He coughed and tried to breath but it was like swimming in dirt. He covered his mouth and took shallow breaths. Enough was enough. He was quitting. He had more than enough crystals now to not only pay off his debts but live well for the rest of his days and that did not include the ones he planned to give to his kids. This was day 5 and regardless of the fact that he had intended to work for a couple more hours it was time he got out of here. When the dust settled enough for him to find a lamp he looked around. Hopefully the bags of crystals that he had ready to go had not been buried. As he did he stopped cold. There, not that far away was the biggest crystal he had ever seen in his entire life. It was huge, bigger than his head if not bigger. All he had to do was crawl over the slag heap of rock that had fallen from the ceiling of his tunnel. It would be a tight squeeze but he was not that big. He could probably make it with out much difficulty. His hands fairly itched to hold it. He licked his lips and started to move closer as another rumble and more pebbles and rock dust showered down. It was so close, less than 10 feet. He could reach it. He knew he could. ***************** RRRRUUUMMMBBLLLEEE!!!!!! CCCRRRAAASSSHHHHH!!!!! Dust whooshed out of the open hatch at the entrance to the tunnel. Propelled like bullets from a shotgun. The ground moved and even the small ship was moved. It shook so much that some of the rocks and lots of the dust was shaken off. Then it was quiet. The dust started to settle. A sudden low thrumming built in volume until the small craft lifted off. The rest of the dirt and rocks fell off to land on the ground. Inside Angus felt a quiet sort of calm. Let the planet keep the rest. He had more than enough to last him for the rest of his life. He was alive and as hard as the planet had tried it had failed to kill him. Even it’s last trap had failed.
  13. Tobias Walker

    JUL/AUG The True Fortune

    Enjoy the story everyone, fell free to dro pa comment or two. "How the hell did I end up here." Kyle spoke to no one in particular as the first phaser blast shot by him. He increased power to the engines and nimbly dodged the next volley of fire that the patrol craft launched at him. "Unidentified Vessel, This the the federation patrol vessel Cerberus, disengage your engines and prepare to be boarded. Failure to comply will result in forcible measures to apprehend your ship." The voice over the intercom was stern and lacking any inflection. "Cerberus, this is the Merchant Vessel Venture, I'm carrying medical supplies that are on a time urgent schedule, If you would kindly disengage phaser fire, I think the colonists that need this medicine would be grateful." Kyle was hoping this bluff would work. He wasn't carrying any medical supplies, hell he wasn't even carrying any supplies or cargo except for some stolen goods that he had been contracted to run between Dertian II and the Merkian Colony in a near by star system. It was supposed to be a milk run that would bring him a great deal of cash to replace this rusting bucket he called a ship. He was in an old, almost ancient space frame cargo ship, not much bigger than a federation runabout, it was more engines than holding space. And the only thing that held it together were little pieces of wire and good intentions. With this delivery of Kelbonite, Kyle would be set for a long time. "Negative, Venture, you WILL stand down and prepare to be boarded. Our scanners indicate that you're not carrying any medical supplies, but contraband materials." Kyle dodged the next volley of phaser fire aimed at his engines. He could see the displays starting to creep into the red zone as the hull was being stressed due to the evasive maneuvers. He caressed the console whispering, "Keep it together girl, and ill get us out of this." Kyle keyed his console and replied to the nameless starfleet officer in pursuit of him, "Contraband! What the hell, I was told it was medicine. There’s one thing we can agree on, someone needs stopped... The dock master who loaded me must have put the wrong cargo back here. I'd like to file a complaint!" The taunting was having it's desired effects as the phaser fire was getting more inaccurate with the banter. Several shots brushed by the tiny ship as the pilot was able to swing it back and forth to stay out of the line of fire. He could keep running but it would be pointless, eventually the patrol craft would land a hit on him and disable his engines. And he would be spending the rest of his life in a penal colony, which would put a huge dampener on his plans of a life in luxury. He needed a rabbit hole to hide in and he needed it fast. "Ship, any thing out there we can hide in?" He asked. "The Theron Nebula is 1.7 light years away," The computer replied. The ship had the ability to go to warp, but not a fast warp, but with luck, fast enough to beat his pursuer by a few minutes. He would hide in the nebula until the Cerberus would give up, or the ship would be destroyed. At this point Kyle really didn't care which. "Cerberus, see you around," Kyle laughed as he keyed the intercom and engaged his warp drive. A glancing blow from of the Cerberus’s dorsal phaser array almost dashed his dreams of escape as the warning lights started to flash. Severe structural damage, and damage to the antimatter containment system. Everything told him to just surrender and take that fate he deserved rather than allow him to be killed with his ship. Kyle wasn’t that kind of person, he was defiant, proud and would risk the odds to get away. He engaged the warp drive again and as the computer stared announcing errors, he was counting down the minutes he needed to get to safety, praying and hoping that the ship wouldn’t fall to pieces around him. His hands flew across the console as he kept diverting power. He jumped to his feet and headed back to the cargo area, attempting to repair what damage he could. It didn’t look good, with the smell of burnt conduits and melted wiring. His worst fears were confirmed when he removed an access cover and the overpower smell of toasted electronics and he could see several control boards that were burned beyond recognition, let alone repair. “Two minutes to destination.” The computer announced. Kyle wasn’t sure that the ship wouldn’t hold together for the next two minutes, but that part he left up to fate. Conduits were overheating and the risk of major failure was eminent. “Hold together, just for a few more minutes, please?” He pleaded with the console in front of him. He was jumping wires and bypassing damaged components to keep the SIF fields up and hold the rusty tub of bolts together. “Thirty seconds.” Kyle jumped back into the pilot’s chair as the ship started shaking, he buckled himself as the ship exited warp and appeared inside the nebula. The turbulent gases and plasma storms were rocking the ship, but as far he could tell, his sensor array didn’t pick up the chasing ship. “So far so good...” The ship was being bashed apart and it was only a matter of time before the core would be rocked beyond the ability of the shields and dampeners to compensate. He navigated towards the edge of the nebula, hoping to get a sensor lock on anything other then the nebula or himself. Several sweeps had confirmed that there was another vessel out there, but there was no way for him to get any identifying signals or even knowing that the other vessel had spotted him. He was flying almost blind, which he used to his advantage. He plotted a course away from the sensor echo towards the far side of the nebula. It wasn’t a safe course but it was the only option that he had, besides surrendering. Inching forward at a near crawl, Kyle deftly piloted around the pockets of ionized gas that could make his getaway trip an exercise in survival. He slowly increased speed until he was drafting around larger and larger pockets of the explosive gas. He could see the edge of the nebula several thousand kilometers in front of him. The ship kept shuddering more and more the closer he got to the edge. “Warning, antimatter containment failure imminent, venting overboard.” The klaxon sounded following the announcement. A stream of anti hydrogen began flowing from the port side of the vessel. Kyle slammed the throttle to full speed. A stream of antimatter interacting with a cloud of gas would be game over on his escape plan. He could feel the blast behind the vessel as another link in the chain of disaster broke. A churning pocket of gas collided with the antimatter and the resulting combustion and tossed the spaceship end over end. Warning lights and alarms were flashing and the computer readout wasn’t encouraging. Structural integrity and inertial dampeners were failing and it would be a matter of a minute or two and the ship would tear it self apart. Kyle had to make a split second choice: stay with the cargo and die, or get to the pod and get out alive. Without hesitation, he unbuckled and fought his way to the escape capsule in the aft of the ship. He took the survival kit and strapped himself in. “So much for fame and fortune,” he muttered then pressed the eject button. He was pushed back hard against the back wall of the tiny pod, were he was forced into a standing position. Before his would went dark, he could see himself passing out of the turbulent nebula through the tiny polymer window on the frond of the escape pod. Six years later, aboard DS9: Darong slammed his beer mug against the table and laughed, “So how did you ever get out of that mess? And better question we all want to know is, how do you think that story can top all of our tales of latinum?” The four men sat at a table in the top level of Quark’s bar, tales of latinum and fortunes abound, as they did every few months, they would meet with tales over cold drinks and the one with the best tales of adventure and wealth would be the victor and the others would buy the rounds, which lasted well into the night. Kyle had usually been the buying party, but he had always held this story in reserve, until now. “A Merkain science vessel, the same vessel that was in the nebula found me pod and drug me in.” Kyle explained. “That still does not answer our other question, hew-mon. I see no latinum.” Pharn was his usual Ferengi self, sneering with his supposed superiority. “Boys, there are some things worth more then latinum,” Kyle offered. “Such as? You were shot at by the federation, lost the cargo and your ship blew up, sounds like a total loss to me.” Ennis asked, his Bajoran features reveling little. Kyle took a huge swig of his mug, “There are somethings worth way more than money, I might not have earned any latinum that day, but I did earn something a lot more valuable,” he sat the glass down and paused a second for retrospection, “experience...”
  14. Hannibal Parker

    JUL/AUG 2011:/JUL/AUG

    (( Core Breach Bar, Starbase 375 )) It had been four years since the end of the Dominion War, but Hannibal Parker was still fighting. As a member of Starfleet's Special Operations Division, he and his team went places and did things that only an Admiral would know about. his friend and collaborator, T'Sol, sat next to him. The two had known each other almost since boot camp, and their friendship was forged during the blistering heat of endurance training on Vulcan. the two could not have been more opposite of each other. T' Sol was angular, tall, with high cheekbones, dark brown eyes, and a quiet demeanor...but he was also a computer expert and very efficient killer. Parker, on the other hand, was massive, with shaved head, bulging muscles, light brown eyes, a quick smile, and a penchant for making things go boom when needed. Parker was also possessed with an extremely bad temper, which T'Sol attempted to keep in check. Although he did not drink, he most always spent his off hours with Parker...especially after a mission, when Parker was especially in an celebratory mood... Parker, smoking a cigar and nursing a real whiskey and T'Sol, nursing only orange juice, were seated near the rear of the bar in such a manner as to both be able to cover the door and to watch their backs. Both men never went anywhere unarmed. The bar was dark, filled with known smugglers, assasins, and other beings living on the shady side of the law. Orion slave girls, wearing tantalizing little clothing, worked their way through the crowd, dancing for credits and other favors that could be dealt with in the nearby holosuites. Parker turned to his friend, nearly shouting over the din of the music, to ask him the same question he always asked him when they visited a bar after a mission.. " Exactly how many times have you accompanied me to a bar?", Parker asked. T' Sol turned towards Parker, and in the typical Vulcan dead pan way.." Twenty four, counting tonight." Parker smiled at the Vulcan.." What has happened when we have gone to a bar together? Certainly not a whole bunch." The Vulcan raised a slight eyebrow, never losing his deadpan expression. " Hannibal...I have accompanied you twenty four times. In those twenty four times, you have engaged in physical violence twenty times, threatened violence fourty four times, and engaged in sexual activities nineteen times. Fourteen times you have ended up in the brig due to your violent encounters. Fourteen times you were released with no charges. Eight of those times I was in the brig with you." [...] Vulcan precision, Parker thought. " And you accompany me because..." " I accompany you because General Wright believes that your temper will one day prove to remove you from active duty and place you into an eascape proof penal facility...and you are my friend. I would not wish to go on an operation without your considerable and formidable skills to call upon if and when needed." For T'Sol, that was speaking volumes. Parker had no desire to remove anyone from the quadrant this night..as least not yet. The two men continued to enjoy the ambiance of the bar...Parker having the Orion girls dance for him, and T'Sol drinking more orange juice. Parker had spied earlier a tall, muscular woman come into the bar. She had long curly blond hair, a beautifully toned body from what he could tell, and was having a drink at the bar. She didn't look like an assasin or smuggler. She didn't have that aura...she ws indeed something else. She had refused offers of drinks from others in the bar, once quite forcefully, performing a perfect wristlock and bouncing him away from the bar. To Parkr, this was a woman he had to know...a woman he had to have. T'Sol, seeing Parker lock onto the woman, knew what his friends' next move would be.. " Are you planning to engage in conversation with that woman?" T'Sol asked. " She has seemed to be quite formidable". Parker wasn't phased one bit. He was drawn to her, and the two had engaged in limited eye contact since she had arrived. " Perhaps fortune is on my side tonight", Parker said. " And I am going to find out." "At least", T'Sol said," if you are engaged in sexual activities with her, you will not be visiting violence on anyone." " True, my friend...very true" Parker was getting ready to make his move towards the bar when the scourge of the quadrant walked in...four Nauscicans. If the galaxy did indeed have an anus, it most likely would have been these creatures. Big, loud, profane, and known to be mercenaries for anyone who will pay their price. They also had a very nasty habit of killing and maiming Starfleet personnell and taking unwanted liberties with females. T'Sol, also recognizing the possible trouble, was more alert, his eyes locking onto the four as they made their way into the bar. PArker knew that T'Sol had checked his phaser, and Parker had checked his as well. If the balloon went up, T'Sol would go into battle alongside Parker. To him, it was the logical thing to do. The four Nausicaans bullied their way to the bar...right next to the woman he was persuing. The way things were going, he was going to have to intervene...but he somehow wanted to see how she would react to their close proximity. He and T'Sol, in a well practiced maneuver, slid their chairs back to be ready to strike if needed. The conversation in the dimly lit bar calmed down to a point that he could hear the lead Nausicaan speaking, in their customary loud and boistrous voice... The lead thug slammed down a huge fist on the bar, staring at the barkeeper, who was used to the presence of such ill mannered beings in the establishment.." GIVE ME SAURIAN BRANDY!!!NOW YOU MISERABLE PILE OF WASTE BEFORE I TEACH YOU HOW TO BE A REAL BARTENDER!!!" The bartender moved quickly to get them a bottle of brandy each...such as the way with them. A glass simply would not do. The Nausicaan passed out the bottles to his compatriots, then laid some credits on the bar. The bartender took the money, but it was clearly not enough to pay for four bottles. He glared at the huge aliens, not wishing to be run through by a Nausican blade. The lead thug then turned his attention to the human female sitting at the bar. She showed no fear, no apprehension as the Nauscicaan moved in... "YOOU...ARE...PREEETY...YOU WILL DRINK WITH US NOW!!" The woman made no move...in fact, gave no reaction to anything the thug said. She continued to sip her drink, even as the Nausicaans surrounded her to the point Parker could not see her. Parker stood up from his chair, and T'Sol stood up with him. No one was paying attention to them...all eyes were on the Nausicaans and the now surrounded human female. The woman looked up at the lead Nausicaan, and without mising a beat, locked eyes with the lead tormentor, and smiled.. " I would rather drink alone than drink with the likes of you." The woman was now standing,still staring at the Nausicann.."Now go play your games elsewhere." She never raised her voice, but it was sweet but tinged with iron. Parker thought that either this woman is crazy...or knows we will back her play...or...she thinks she can take them. Parker had flipped his coat back to reveal the phaser he had strapped to his thigh...and T' Sol had his ready as well. The lead Nausicaan was enraged by her rebuff, and he placed a hand on her shoulder.." YOOU WIIIIL DRIINK WITH US! I..INSIST!!!. The woman, with a speed that almost amazed him, planted a palm strike into the lead Nausicaans nose, then mule kicked him across the nearest table. His three compatriots, surprised at the treatment of their leader, began to move in on her..and that was when Parker and T'Sol struck. Parker slammed one in the back of the neck with his fist, while T'Sol neck pinched one of the other attackers. The female dealt with the other Nausicaan by planting a boot square between his legs, then delivering a right cross to his now lowered jaw. The lead Nausicaan, seeing what was happening to his men, pulled out a wicked looking knife withthe intent to stab Parker in the back...but T'Sol was quicker, delivering a quick blow into the Nausicaans' chest then striking him in the throat, dropping him. One remaining Nausicaan tried to stab Parker, but the big human caught the thugs' hand and kicked him in the knee, then delivered his own right cross into the jaw of the attacker. Four Nausicaans now lay on the floor with various injuries, the carnage taking place within a very small area. In fact, only one table had been overturned. Parker garabbed the woman and escorted her away from the downed thugs, while T'Sol, with his now drawn phaser, kept an eye on them as Station Security filed into the bar. This was Parker's first opportunity to take a good look at the woman he had helped to rescue...and she was a beautiful up close as she was from across the bar. She returned his gaze as he spoke to her..." Are you hurt?" Parker said. She looked back at him,with a hint of mischief and relief." No,I'm allright. It was good fortune that you were here to save me from the bad ole Nausicaans, Starfleet. What's your name?" This caught Parker a little off guard, as he and T'Sol were in civvies and wore no Starfleet insignia. "I'm Hannibal. Hannibal Tiberious Parker. My friend over there talking to Security is T'Sol. Just how did you know we were Starfleet? And what is your name?" The woman, who did not have to look up into Parkers' eyes too far, as she was a good six feet tall compared to Parkers six feet three.." I am Kamela.Kamela Allison. Pleased to meet you." She shook his hand, but did not leave his side. Security had taken charge of the Nausicaans, and T'Sol walked up next to them..Kamela spoke to the quiet Vulcan.." Thank you for your assistance, T'Sol. Fortune smiled on me having the two of you here. Parker, turning towards Kamela, told her.." Will fortune shine on me again, in your magnificent company?" Giving one look at T'Sol, and looking at Parker, she said," the night is still young, Mr. Parker. Paerhaps it will. T'Sol looked back at his friend, and uttered one word.."Twenty."
  15. Arielle Teagan

    JUL/AUG "You are my Fortune"

    For Dewey the Silent! **************** It was a warm summer night; my sister, Whistler, Whiny, Silent and I were sitting on the roof of our house watching stars and talking about the old Earth book we were discussing in school. Dangerous book… dangerous if you are 10 and your parents don’t have time for you as our parents didn’t have for us. Worse, Whistler found some old map in one of thousand crates on their huge attic, which was one of our two most favorite dreaming places. Fortune map his granddad stored there. Years later we will learn about the map and its origin, but it’s another story. “We need to make some dry rations for everyone.” Said my sister and Whistler added almost sounding offended. “Why? We have replicator on the yacht.” Whistler’s parents were traders and he was crucial part of the adventure, otherwise my sister would most probably kick him from our little team long ago, especially since she didn’t like Whiny, his sneaky and silent sister who was always *against*. It didn’t matter who proposed whatever nor was it accepted by everyone else, she was always against it! For the first time she didn’t even try to oppose the adventure. Moreover she pulled her brother, even before my sister could say something. “You can’t take replicator to the raft. We need some food for that part of our travel.” Watching his sister surprised, Whistler concluded. “Everyone get enough of your own clothes and food and bring them to the warehouse tomorrow evening. We’ll leaving Friday afternoon when guests start arriving to our estate. That’s best time because everyone will expect us to be in our room and nobody will check on us for a long time. Since your parents...” He turned to face sister and me. “…are guests, too I expect it’s best for the two of you, too.” It was more than best time because supersmart sis made sure it is. Mentioning how bored everyone will be she managed to gather everyone in our house. Since we had that *party* agreed upon by our parents, even Silent’s folks let him sleep at our place, despite our parents will not be there. So we boarded SS Black Rose, named that for Whistler’s mom whose naturally dark black hair made beautiful woman look classy and dashing. Even we boys watched her with awe…. aaah. Back to our crazy adventure, shall we? It was Friday evening, dawn was making shadows long and despite our hearts were bumping strong in our throats we left the house where we left the music maybe just a tad too loud, set to die at 1:30 in the morning with lights turning off half an hour later and sneaked toward the warehouse and a Black Rose. With a first stars of the night we started the engines and flew into Space and a magic adventure. First problem occurred when flight control wanted to know where we’re heading, but sis was smart again and with a feminine chuckle explained. “Me and hubby just want a bit of privacy while our guests have fun.” Cold and annoyed… “Understood ma’am, see you soon. Will log it that way.” …made us exhale for the first time since they contacted us. Next problem was making the ship go into warp, what it refused till we left the system. It was not all, ship’s computer also wanted to know where to jump. “Stupid thing.” So we gave him that treasure map which he analyzed for far too long for us to like. But in the end he found it. If you think he went into warp, you’re wrong. Stupid computer now wanted to know how fast to go and how many jumps. “One jump, maximum warp, you moron.” Whistler was on the edge, constantly expecting one of his parent’s ships to appear and stop our search for fortune. Yes, we all wanted to see new things and experience adventure we dreamed of on the roof reading Tom Sawyer adventures, but Whistler, well, Whistler wanted the gold and diamonds, to can leave his parents. He had everything and far more than he ever needed, but still he wanted more. More than his parents thought is fit for his age. Computer warned us that one jump may take us through dangerous region of space, but we were in a hurry and decision was made…. and that’s the lesson we’ll remember for the rest of our life. What hit us, don’t ask me I was 10 and have no idea. I don’t know where we went or through which part of Galaxy were traveling, but when *that* started it was horrible. Lights went off and only nasty sparks from fried equipment were showing the faces of other equally stunned companions. Fortunately we were all sitting strapped in the chairs, so only small flying objects hit us from time to time. Then I saw the planet coming to us and screamed and screamed and…. I opened my eyes to screams, but this time it was not me screaming. Screams were coming from outside the yacht. “Dad will kill us; it’s ruined, completely ruined.” “Stop crying like babies and let’s unload everything we can. The sea is rising.” My sister was in her element, but this time instead of just ordering around she was first to start doing. After some time of roaming the ship she found two antigrav sledges and started dropping everything she thought useful onto them. When both were full of things, she grabbed one and started pulling it toward the wood. Whistler was sitting in the sand crying, but Whiny proved girls are stronger at that age and frowning at her brother grabbed second sledge and followed my sister. Silent found some tools and survival kits what made my sister kiss him and made him completely unusable for the rest of the day. Well, not completely, he made fire, while we set the tents. “You think they’re going to find us?” That were first words Whiny managed to produce since the landing and scream when saw the yacht from outside. “Of course they will find us. Will they?” My sister watched me asking to say yes and to do that with confidence. “We should call for help, you know. I saw it in one of those educational vids, we have to turn computer on and send dis…distrac…distressed call or signal or something like that.” I was smart and felt really good for knowing the word. I believed I sounded smart, but others were not so confident. Silent was first to respond. “I tr..tr..ied to activate the compppupuputer, but it’s completely dededead.” “Nooo, bwahahahahaha:” Yes, that was big and powerful Whistler and I really started to wonder why we nicknamed his sister Whiny. “Time to eat, then we’ll go and try with computer one more time all together.” So we opened invaluable dry rations we almost didn’t prepared and after eating them returned to the yacht. We did everything it came to our minds and we were resourceful and smart kids, trust me. Well, yes, not smart enough to avoid this adventure, but despite all our laziness (I admit we were lazy, yes I do) we all skipped some grades and were good students. Silent was in the same class with all of us, despite being 2 years older, but he was very ill for a long time and had that speech impediment. When we were exiting the yacht we realized its getting dark. It didn’t seem so late when we returned to yacht and we realized it’s dark not because of coming of night, but because of the storm arriving fast. We run to the camp and taking our backpacks each run into tents, sister and Whiny in one and we boys in another. If you think you know what is loud and what big bad storm is, I’m ready to bet you never experienced this planet and its storms. I’m not Whistler and I believe I’m brave, but after few hours I started to cry, I just couldn’t cope with it… moreover since Whistler was screaming with every nearby thunder and Silent pinched me every time. When it calmed, we crawled together in the corner of the tent and when girls joined us we fell asleep like a bunch of puppies abandoned in the cardboard box by the dumpster, moaning almost silently, unable to say anything. Next day was clean, blue warm and sunny and living in the wood by the beach changed our mood upside down. That day was followed by another similar and one more not much worse, only a bit less sunny. Life was good and we were kids playing in the sand and swimming in the warm sea. But as all good things has to come to an end this adventure showed its teeth when we realized we don’t have enough water. It made us explore the land deeper in the wood. When we finally found water it was late and we gathered it in all the containers we had running fast back to… to camp, right… but camp had another idea. Finally when we realized it’s too dark to continue we again gathered like a puppies in the box and slept in the bush under the big tree. In the morning we realized if we don’t find camp we don’t have any more food, and any more was not much, despite all the planning we made and all the rations we brought with us. Around the midday we realized; we have no idea where we are, where we should go and that we’re too hungry to think rationally. Not really that way, not that any of us even knew how to say or explain that, but we felt it and were all hiding those tears we were brushing away walking one after another through the wood. Some crazy scientist long time ago said, anything that can go wrong will go wrong. Before we could realize it thunder stroke near us. We saw patches of open land throughout the wood, but having no experience we couldn’t even guess what they were. Soon we found out, when another lightning stroke like a bomb maybe 20 meters away igniting the wood. We watched the fire raging like bewitched till Silent screamed. “This way.” That was the first and last time I heard him say something without stuttering, and we followed him. He was leading us up the hill. After some time we were climbing on all 4 grabbing through the mud to get as high as possible, through heavy rain and thunders. Fire was raging all around us strong and even the flood bathing us and making the climb really hard could not stop her. I was climbing trying to see those around me, till I got covered with mud and completely blind and deaf, realized the light very close and screams and then nothing. I was all alone near the top of the hill trying to find my companions. My hear sunk and unable to control I screamed and screamed and screamed till my sister slapped me. We were on the transporter pad of the freighter who picked automated distress signal from the yacht and after retrieving small vessel found in the logs about its 5 little passengers. We spent next 4 days in the ships infirmary being observed for injuries or unknown infections we could get on the unexplored world, constantly listening Whistler crying for what will his parents do when see Black Rose. When we got transported down to the warehouse landing pad, Black Rose, or rather the wreckage of it was already standing there with our parents watching it. We were so ashamed we couldn’t look up or say anything. Parent’s noticed us when we were close by. Whistler then did what neither of us would ever expect from him after his behavior last days, stood in front of all of us and bravely faced his dad. “It’s all my fault. I found the map to the treasure and made them follow me. I know the yacht cost you a treasure and I ruined it… I’m sorry.” His father approached him grabbing him and pulling in the air. We all froze till the man started to laugh hugging kid. “You are my fortune, you two.” Pulled Whiny into the hug. “You’re fine and it’s only important.” My parents said nothing, just hugged us strong. Silent’s mom grabbed his ear and pulled him into a hug. “Fortune!”
  16. Saveron

    JUL/AUG *WINNER* "Your Lucky Day"

    ((Edinburgh, Starfleet Recruitment Stall)) “Sure hun, the Marine Corps will get you off this rock, take you places you’ve never even dreamed of. Make a man out of you.” The red-haired woman with the understated brow-ridges grinned at him, palms flat on the table that was the centre of the Starfleet recruitment stall, leaning forward in a way that would have given a good view of her admirable assets if she’d been wearing something less modest than a Starfleet uniform with a green collar. Admittedly the rangy youth she was pushing the uniformed life to wasn’t the most prepossessing prospect for recruitment, but what did they expect when some genius decided that a stall at the Edinburgh Festival was a good idea? “Oh aye? And wuid ye be one o’ the trainers then lassie?” The young man asked with a grin, placing his knuckles on the table and leaning forward in a stance like her own, bringing him way too close for her comfort. She could smell the drink on his breath, and he’d not eating enough from the look of him. He was eighteen if he was a day by her reckoning and already a collection of bad habits and bad attitude. If he had the guts to join then the Marine Corps might be the best thing that ever happened to him. “No honey but there are plenty of other ladies just waiting to whip someone like you into shape.” She assured him. Reaching out she dropped a data stick into his open shirt pocket, then patted his cheek. “There you go sugar, everything you need to know is right there.” “Like yer number sweets?” He asked, not giving up. Grow a few muscles and a few brain cells and I might think about it. She mused. About the only thing going for him in her opinion was his striking blue eyes. “Just call the number on the stick hun,” she told him, “it could just be your lucky day.”Dear Kahless, I don’t get paid enough for this, B’Ehlinda mused idly. ---------- To Douglas’s disgust the thing in his pocket wasn’t a personalised photo with a number stored in it’s memory. It was just one of those metal-cased data-chips that uploaded into a PADD or personal computer, and the Starfleet logo printed on it suggested that it would contain nothing more than the usual Starfleet propaganda. He wasn’t in the mood for that kind of rubbish. Since when had any form of organised establishment ever done anything for him? Left on a doorstep with nothing but a name, he’d struggled through school, run through a string of foster homes and left as soon as he was legally old enough. Just another statistic. He didn’t care, he’d make his own way and his own luck, or die trying. He hadn’t come out during the Festival for the boring stuff during the day of course, it was the Fringe Festival with its incredible night-life that had drawn him. Two days he’d spent drinking and partying and trying to pick up women; he wasn’t picky about species. He was getting a bit short on cash however, he’d have to do something about that. ((Later that evening in a back-alley pub)) “Deal me in.” Although the luck of the Scots was reputed to be second only to the luck of the Irish, Douglas was hoping to turn a few credits into rather more credits. This was something he was good at. That was the thing about Luck, she was shy and saucy and you had to court her right. There were three deities in Douglas’s personal pantheon; Fate, Fortune and Old Man Murphy. Fate was what should happen, Fortune was what might happen, and Murphy’s Law said that ‘whatever could go wrong would, at the worst possible moment’. He knew he was Fortune’s son. He was a gambler and a risk-taker, and Lady Luck loved those who were willing to stake their lives in her name. You had to be prepared to fall before she would catch you; if you were then some days you could fly. As the cards were laid across the table Douglas set a high stake as his sacrifice on Fortune’s altar; today was going to be his lucky day. ((Later that night in a side-alley.)) Fortune was a [...]. She’d failed him, or he’d failed her. But she was like that, fey and fickle, and if you relied on her too heavily she let you down. She couldn’t be trusted, and tonight belonged to Old Man Murphy; and Murphy was a [...]. So was Douglas but only by birth, Murphy was one by the way he screwed you over just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse. He was broke. No, he was really broke. He couldn’t even afford a drink. It was late now and he was a fair way from the squat he lived in. He had no money for public transport so he had to walk. Just one boot in front of the other through streets littered with rubbish that swirled along in random eddies of air, other drunken figures staggering their way back to their beds – or someone’s bed at any rate – and the wind too lazy to bother going around you, it just cut right through you. His teeth chattered as he walked. At least he he didn’t have too far to go. He’d described a long, rambling circuit through Edinburgh that night, while the wind howled in the streets and voices raised in song or argument in every pub. Now he was heading back to where he had started, poorer and probably no wiser. He was taking a short cut, had just stepped from one back alley to another, when he heard the scuff of a boot on the ancient cobbles behind him, and froze. Murphy really hated him. “That’s richt sunshine, turn arood real slow an’ gie us yer credits.” Even as the thug spoke two more seemed to extrude from the shadows and ancient brickwork around him. Obediently Douglas turned, spreading his hands as he did so. “Ye ken, much as I wuid like tae, I dinna hae ony on me. Why else do ye think I’m walkin’?” He sneered, drink and ego giving him courage he shouldn’t have had. “So why dinna ye jus’ f%$# off and bother abody else, hmm?” He suggested. It was a bad move. Too late he noticed the manic gleam in the eye of the ruffian demanding his money, and the brighter gleam in his fist. He was high on something stronger than alcohol. Adrenaline kicked in and Douglas’s pulse thundered in his ears. “Wrong answer.” The man snarled, and lunged at him. The youth flung up his arms to defend himself and there was a momentary confusion of limbs, then a flash, a metallic shriek and a pain the like of which he had never known blossomed in his chest as he staggered back against the wall. “Hole f%$# Sean, ye werena s’posed tae kill ‘im!” The pain redoubled as the knife was wrenched from him, and then the two supporters hustled their friend off into the night. He was dying. This was it. In a back alley that stank of [...] and vomit, stabbed by some drug-f%$#ed thug for a few credits he didn’t have. What a way to go. A fitting end for a sad story. What a waste. Dear Lord but it hurt. Why wouldn’t the pain stop? It hurt too much for him to be dead. He wasn’t dying, at least, not right away. But as the realisation dawned that he hadn’t been killed the pain that stabbed through him with every breath that he took made it obvious that death was still a very real option. He could feel a draw of air inside his chest, and every breath was harder than the last. Pushing away from the wall Douglas staggered in the direction of the square up ahead. There would be lights, people, help. ((Edinburgh, Starfleet Recruitment Stall)) It was so late it was early, and they were just packing down the recruitment stall when B’Ehlinda saw a figure emerge from a side alley into the square. She recognised the [...]y brat she’d spoken to earlier and rolled her eyes. He swayed uncertainly for a moment before staggering across the cobbles to collapse on the table she had just cleared of leaflets. He was probably drunk out of his skull. None too kindly she grabbed him by his shirt and turned him over; that’s when she saw the blood. “Sweet Jesus!” She swore. “Can you hear me hun?” He was still breathing shallowly, but there was nothing so eerie as the way those ice blue eyes looked right through her. He couldn’t hear her, not through the ringing in his ears. The face he vaguely recognised but he couldn’t think from where. A strange peace was settling over him. In slow motion he watched her hand come up and touch her comm. badge, her lips moving slowly in the ringing silence. A few blue sparkles appeared about her, and then everything went dark. ((Starfleet Academy, Teaching Hospital.)) Blue eyes opened a crack and he muttered something unrepeatable in Gaelic about the brightness of the lights. Blinking he finally cleared his vision, which resolved on the broadest grin he had ever seen. Some pug-ugly alien was standing at the bottom of his bed, so pleased with itself that it was amazing it’s head didn’t fall off. Douglas had never seen a Denobulan before. “If Heaven’s hirin’ angels like ye then I dinna want tae play.” He muttered. “Well well well, look who’s awake.” The Denobulan in the blue collar commented, picking up the e-board from the end of his bed and checking his notes. “I’m Doctor Prax. Have you got a name son? I don’t suppose you really are a ‘John Doe’.” He looked at his patient expectantly. “Douglas.” The young man said. “Douglas Kieran FitzJames.” The smell of industrial disinfectant and the white coats and blue collars gradually brought themselves to his attention. The panelling on the false ceiling was wrong too; this wasn’t the emergency department of the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary. He’d been there often enough to know. “Where am I?” “The Teaching Hospital at Starfleet Academy son.” Prax told him. “And you were quite a find. It’s not every day that my students get to see a sucking chest wound. Get stabbed did you?” He looked inordinately pleased by the idea. Douglas just nodded glumly. That meant he was in San Francisco of all places. He looked up as Prax approached the side of his bed and pressed something small, cold and hard into his palm. “You might want to hang onto that.” The doctor said rather more seriously. “It saved your life.” Lifting his hand Douglas saw a familiar data stick, a bright gouge across the metal, straight through the Starfleet logo. Doctor Prax was grinning at him again. “I guess today is your lucky day.”
  17. Nathan Baker

    JUL/AUG "Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat"

    (( Sector 2459 - Tarador 5 )) oO What a fine mess you've gotten yourself into this time, eh Ben? Oo :: The small Venture-class scout ship was in over it's head this time around thanks to it's pilot and owner, Ben Wells. The scruffy-looking Terran was always taking contracts that seemed impossible to complete given his resources, but it hadn't ever been a problem before. Until now perhaps... :: :: Ben's ship, which he'd aptly named "Fortune", was in orbit around the massive yellow-hued Class-S ultra giant in the Tarador System. All 6 of the planets were gaseous planets of some sort and not of much worth to anyone... unless you knew where to look. :: :: The bald, blue-eyed man stroked his unkempt beard as he looked at the planet through the view port. He considered the task before him and tried to crunch the numbers... and they weren't looking so favorable.:: :: "Fortune" had been quite a reliable ship for the past 2 years; especially given the fact that he'd only paid 50 bars of latinum to take it out of an independent Zakdorn supply depot. After a few repairs, upgrades and modifications, the former Starfleet scout vessel had performed the various salvage and retrieval contracts with only minor issues. :: :: This little endeavor, on the other hand, wasn't going to be as easy. Ben mused about that prospect while taking a swig of Saurian Brandy... his last bottle. :: oO It never seems to go as far as I'd like. Oo :: Putting the bottle back down and wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Ben brought up his ship's hull tolerance specifications. After a quick glance, he leaned back in his seat and looked up towards the ceiling in disgust. :: Wells: Why, oh why did I ever think I could do this one? Someone want to explain it to me? :: The contract specifically required a 25 kilogram sample of the asteroid that was now inconveniently lodged in a hydrogen pocket 1000 kilometers into the planet's gasseous atmosphere. The asteroid's geologic make-up was causing problems with getting any sort of transporter lock on the rock face. Therefore, Ben would have to take his ship into the atmosphere and get into point-blank range to initiate any sort of transport. At those depths, the pressure would crush the "Fortune" like a can of dehydrated Andorian beets. :: oO No wonder I was the only one to sign up for this one. Oo :: Ben cracked his neck to try and ease the stress and looked back at the massive planet lying before him. :: Well: Read the fine print next time before you sign anything, will ya Benny-boy? You get me into more trouble that way than anything else. :: What made all of this worse was the time limit the contract had stipulated. The unnamed clients wanted their sample in 2 weeks... and it had taken Ben 6 days to ge`t to the planet at maximum warp. So, in essence, he had ONE DAY to get the sample and head back to the trading station on Relga 9 as the crow flies. There was no time to waste. :: :: The reward for this puny sample? 500 bars of latinum AND coverage of expenditures. Ben had salivated at such a juicy contract, until he was on his ship and read the details after signing up. But, he'd never reneged on a deal before... and he wasn't going to start now. :: Wells: Computer, transfer auxiliary power to structural integrity. Disengage all non-essential systems and transfer to the shield grid. Computer: Power transfer complete. Structural integrity field at 120 percent. :: Ben, satisfied with everything he'd done to batten down the hatches, set an intercept course for the asteroid. He then took the last swig of brandy and tossed the bottle behind him. A deep breath followed as he stared down the mighty gas giant like a gunslinger eying his opponent in a duel at high noon. :: Wells: Alright then... fortune favors the bold... and papa needs a new bottle of brandy. :: A few commands on the console in front of him and the small craft's impulse drive hummed into life. The view out of the front window changed from the horizon of the planet to a murky mixture of pale yellow with various tufts of orange and red. "Fortune" was heading right into the belly of this beast... and Ben hoped she could handle the ride. :: :: The turbulence started off as a mild shake, but slowly grew to be a more moderate vibration. All Ben had to work off of now was his sensor data showing him how close he was to the target. After a minute, he was only a third of the way there. :: :: That's when things got complicated... and scary. The computer spouted off warnings of cross-variable currents and swirling hydrogen eddys. Ben, being a decent enough pilot, evaded the worst of it. But that wasn't before his shields began to buckle under the strain. :: :: "Fortune" was rocking and creaking as she passed the 500 kilometer mark. Ben's knuckles were white and his complexion pale due to the stress. His breathing was getting faster and faster and the sound of his heartbeat echoed in his ears. But still, he pressed on. :: Wells: We're almost there... just a little bit more sweety. You can do it. Computer: Warning, shields are offline. Structural integrity at 80 percent. Hull pressure exceeding specified limits. oO Thanks for stating the obvious... Oo :: at 750 kilometers, klaxons sounded throughout the small cabin of the ship. The creaking and snapping noised became intolerable. Ben was terrified, but amazed that his ship kept going... until the inevitable happened when he got to 950 kilometers. :: Computer: Warning. Microfractures forming on outer hull. Breach imminent. Catastrophic decompression in 90 seconds. Wells: Transfer emergency power to structural integrity! :: The computer beeped an acknowledgement. Finally, the large mass of gray rock appeared through the window. Ben had no time to enjoy the view. He beamed the piece of rock into the cabin and quickly reversed course. :: Computer: Cross current detected on present course, recommend course correction. Ben: Sorry sweetheart, no time... :: He took a second to wipe the sweat from his brow and continued on course. The ship was hit by a massive current of rotating hydrogen and helium which threw Ben out of his seat. He scrambled to get back and correct for the issue, but the only thing that greeted him was the computer's less-than-cheerful news. :: Computer: Hull integrity critical. Breach in 29 seconds. :: The instruments showed "Fortune" was only 150 kilometers from clearing the atmosphere, but the last jolt had done a number on the impulse engines. It would take 32 seconds to get clear at his current speed. Ben closed his eyes and hoped for the best. :: oO Please be wrong... please be wrong. Oo :: The computer counted down the seconds to a hull breach and Ben just sat there silently repeating the mantra. For a split second, he wondered if all this had been worth it. Was this hunk of rock he carried really worth 500 bars of latinum... or his life? :: :: Before he could find out if his doubt would come to fruition, the shaking finally ceased. Ben almost thought his death had been so painless that he didn't even notice the hull breach and decompression. But, when he finally opened his eyes, all he saw was the view out of the front window. It was full of stars. :: :: With a large sigh of relief, Ben slumped back in his chair and put his hands on his face. He rubbed his eyes and began to chuckle at the lucky break this ship had given him. All the math and logic were against him this time, but the vagabond pilot of this second-hand scout ship had defied the odds once again. The Terran turned in his chair and took a his first close look at his 25 kilogram prize. :: Wells: Looks like I picked the right name for this ship... now I just want some brandy. :: The sweat-soaked Terran turned back to the controls and mercifully set a course to the trading station. The computer informed him it would take 7 days to reach his destination... and he only had 6 to get the rock back to his client. :: oO Please be wrong... please be wrong... Oo :: Ben closed his eyes and tapped the control to engage the warp drive. :: ~ The End ~
  18. Hi all! Welcome to the July/August round of the Writing Challenge! Please read this post carefully for new guidelines on entering your submissions! Following in challenge traditions, the July/August round uses an archetype as inspiration for entries. Joining us on the judging panel for this round is the May/June winner, Captain Della Vetri, who has decided on the following topic for this round: "Fortune" You're free to interpret that however you like for your entries - will you go for luck, wealth or another interpretation of the archetype? Guidelines: To participate, create a new thread. The subject of the thread must be the title of your story, preceded by the tag [2011: MAY/JUN], which is a requirement for entries that will be used when we archive the entries at the end of the round. If it is a Work In Progress, denote that at the top of the post itself (in the body text, not in the thread title). As with last round it will be the final draft posted in your topic that will be read and taken into consideration. Any unfinished entries marked as Work In Progress will not be considered for judging and will be moved to the "Character Cafe" forum at the end of the contest. Your work must be entirely your own. No co-authoring. You are welcome to create any character you so desire, but they must be from the Star Trek universe. No "canon" characters allowed. (i.e.- No one who has been on a show.) Length: No more than 3000 words accepted. Beginning Date: Sunday, July 17th Ending Date: Saturday, August 27th See Also: the Writing Challenge Website Challenge: “Fortune” Good luck everyone!
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