Nathan Baker

Welcome to you both! See you around the fleet!

It was, for lack of a better word, Hell. At least that's what everyone else said about it. But for one Cadet, the fires on that plain of [...]ation were probably far worse. The halfway marker was coming up and Cadet Deven Zell's entire body felt like it was on fire. The skin-coating of UV protection was only a small consolation considering the task at hand. As the Trill popped his second electrolyte capsule, it began to sink in that this run would be the worst of his life. Danula II could conjure up stories of dehydration, second-degree sunburns and more than a few sprained ankles. It's a brutal planet; a desert world with almost no life to speak of. Temperatures that would sore all day and barely any relief at night. The ground would scorch any bare feet that touched it. All of that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to the brutal Academy Marathon. The annual competition between cadets isn't just a race; it's a test of conditioning, strength, will and courage. Anyone with the capacity to run the 42.195 Kilometers was instantly regarded as a hero for his or her class. Most didn't make it half-way... and the others who didn't weren't any better off. Step after step needed more and more effort. Deven's ankles and calves shuddered with every footfall. Every instinct in his body urged him to stop, fall over, make an excuse, or just plain die. Of course, it would take more than that to get him to give in. It was Deven's second attempt for the marathon. He was already regarded as something of a hero when he finished the race the year before... and almost never does a Cadet go back for seconds on the Danula II's barren wasteland. "I don't have to win," the man thought to himself. "I just have to finish... again." Most people remembered the legendary running of the Freshman Cadet Jean Luc Picard. Not only did he finish the grueling competition, he won it. Deven looked at that feat and respected it... but his ego told him he could do better. He didn't have to win, just finish. That was victory enough. Because it wasn't the competition against the other cadets that fueled his spirit, Deven just loved to run. Ever since he was a kid, the now 2nd class Cadet would trudge along the shorelines of his home planet. Running was a tenant of life in his mind. It was a fire that burned deep inside that had no way of being quenched. For Deven, Danula II just provided another personal challenge. Plus, he found it to be fun. (Though he'd probably never admit for for fear of ridicule.) Anyone who had run the marathons would say that only a madman would subject himself to another round against the harsh heat and pressure-cooker conditions that the athletes go up against during that run. Deven thought about that sentiment as he began the long ascent up the final hill towards the finish line. "I guess that's it then. I'm mad." A flash of light pierced over the mountain that was ahead of him. He knew that this was the worst part of the run. Any other person, the cadet figured, would've stopped a long time ago. An emergency beam-out was all it would take and the whole ordeal would be over. It was like the Devil was taunting him with every exhaled pant and each painful step. "No! Not this time!" Deven screamed in agony as he began the ascent. Everything started getting blurry. Without hesitation, Deven popped his final pill to push himself towards finality. Cadets weren't given water to quench themselves during the run, since it wouldn't do much good anyway. Instead, each runner was given three electrolyte capsules to keep their bodily functions going during the trudge along the oven that was the marathon course. Since separating himself from the pack 9 kilometers ago, the toll being exacted on Deven's body was excruciating. All the muscles ached and tensed with every step. The Trill's breathing became nothing more than a dry heave of super-heated air. But with every breath, Deven chanted the mantra he'd come up with that kept him going. "This isn't hell... this isn't hell... This. Is. Not. Hell." Over and over again he chanted, like a metronome that only knew one thing: to keep moving. What seemed like forever finally culminated in a cross of the finish line. Deven collapsed onto the sand and several medics descended on him to begin feeding fluids intravenously. Though he only finished fifth, Deven wasn't upset. "I'll be back next year," he told a reporter a few hours later. "That wasn't hell... it was just a good run."

That's always brilliant to watch and listen to. I'll post some good youtube Trek videos a little later.

I know one thing would be different; Gene wouldn't have let the Dominion War take place. I understand it was a good plot device and a lot of great episodes of Deep Space Nine came from it, but war wasn't in his vision of the Star Trek universe.

Ahh, thanks Miles. And thanks to MacKenna, Captain Riley and all the NPC Cadets in my training group. Not only did they help me get back into the swing of writing, but made it a fun time too! I can't wait to be back on a ship!

After hearing about Ensign Tanang's untimely and tragic passing, I would suggest that he recieve a Posthumous Top Sims award. His SIM was good, and even though he may not get the votes, it would be a small gesture to honor a person who had a lot of potential in our group.

((Holodeck 7 - USS Indria-A)) ::Jacen felt the excitement from within build up. He was going to enjoy this little spar. He waited for Cura to ready herself. He studied how she prepares and even the way she fixes her hair might give away how she would handle herself. Any little detail about her habits would help in combat.:: Assanti: Computer, Saber with one inch longer hilt, blade double edged. ::She then summoned her own sword and like Jacen, examined it like a fine piece of work before she tested its weight. He waited for her to stand ready before him.:: Assanti: :;raising her eyebrow.:: You sure you want to start this dance, Jacen? ::slowly circling.:: You see, once you start this dance with someone, it really never ends. Even if the match ends and no one has won, you're always wondering who is better. As I do recall back on the Victory, you and I started something like this but we were both on the same side against Sniper. This is a bit different, Jacen. I've never raised my sword against you, even for exercise. Fanel: All the more to do this... Assanti: I know enough about you to be a bit wary about being on the wrong side of your blade. You forget, I've seen you in action. Fanel: I have seen enough of you to know some but not nearly enough. The point of observing someone is not enough to truly know that person. Assanti: Well, it is a different feeling. ::still circling:: I don't know if I can do this even for fun. Fanel: Fun? ::Jacen felt the excitement again. He was going to cross blades with Cura. It's actually been a while since he's crossed blades with a woman. Not since Himeyu. He made a mental note to himself not to let the rush of combat with a female go too far. Especially since this is Cura he's facing.:: As the old saying goes Cura....You don't truly know someone...until fight them. ::Jacen lunged forward, not holding back one bit. He wanted to test the range and her reach. In any swordplay, one doesn't just start off with clashing of metal as you see them in stories. First you test each other's reactions. You observe how they move when you move, how they look back at you. What sounds they make. How they carry themselves. All these are vital to winning.:: ::And right now, he's really going at it on her. He didn't want to hold back. It wouldn't be fair to hold back on her. To show her how fast he can be. How strong he is and then to see how she reacts was something he wanted to see out of her in this.:: :: Talking ceased as Jacen lunged towards her, Cura quickly changed to meet his approach, turning herself to face him head on. Then, when he was within range, she stepped into his charge and swiped her sword to stop him from advancing further. Their swords met then. Cura attacked with her blade, lunging in and then stepping back as he countered. He was fast, unpredictable and definitely a formidable opponent. She was unable to predict his moves, so she found she actually had to be ready for anything he might throw at her, which caused her to linger in a defensive stance most of the time.:: :: Their swords danced in the air between them in a blur of motion. Then, Cura performed a trick she learned from John Stone, a move that removed his sword from the equasion. With swiftness and percise handling over her own blade, she managed to tie their blades and then with a flick of her own wrist, Jacen's blade went flying across the room. Cura quickly darted towards it as she knew Jacen would go after it, cutting off his path to his weapon. She lifted her blade to stop him again.:: ::Jacen reacted to the lost of his primary weapon and on instinct went for a second weapon he kept well hidden within his loose long sleeve shirt. His force lance. As he flicked it out of his sleeve he points and extends it towards Cura's face to force her to withdraw away from him. He can tell the surprise on her face from the fact that he procure a weapon out of no where. He stood up as he faced Cura again and stabbed his fully extended weapon next to him.:: Assanti: Very impressive, Lt. Cmdr Fanel. Fanel: Dear Cura, please dispense with the formalities. It's just the two of us here. ::He points his lance towards his sword.:: Now if you please return my sword...You' re closer. :: Cura backed up until she was near his weapon and kicked it by the hilt and it slid across the floor towards his feet. He stopped it with his own feet.:: Assanti: Would you like another stab at it, Jacen? ::Jacen exchanged hands with his lance and picked up his sword. Not looking away from Cura even for a second as he knelt down and grabbed his lost weapon. When he got back up he held his lance high and retracted it back into its previous form and hid it within his sleeve.:: Fanel: With pleasure. ::He saluted with his sword and attacked again. His sense of pride wanted to pay her back for knocking his sword away.:: ::When Jacen charged again this time, he gave her an opening so she can come closer into his range for a strike but it was his turn as he ducked away and slashed forward several times with the last attack being a stab that made her dodge her head to the left, then he retreated to see the damage done. When he waited long enough he can see that a section of Cura's shirt was cut. The cut was delayed and started to show itself when they stopped. He didn't cut her. Just her shirt. She can see he also made a cut on both her sleeves. He also made another cut on her shirt on the shoulder area where his last stab attack was.:: ::Pointing his sword forward, he smiled at his work.:: Fanel: I had to be a little faster to catch up to you, Cura. You're more nimble than I had guessed. Assanti:::looking down at her shirt. She raised an eyebrow as she began pacing around a bit. Then, without a care, she took off her shirt, revealing a tightly fitting sports-bra. Being Betazoid, she did not seem to be the least bit embarrased of her body. Yet, it didn't really look like a bra.:: I suppose this is something like strip poker? The one with the most clothes left on is the winner, I take it? ::Cura smiled and chuckled to herself at the thought.:: ::Jacen actually used up a lot of his mental will and physical strength to prevent himself from blushing at the sight of her. He has never seen her without a shirt and just what would passes for a bra. He can only guess she was trying to use her physique as a distraction and it was working more than before when she was just in her already sweat soaked form.:: Fanel: I hope that shirt wasn't special. Assanti: Well, it is now. A special memento of our first sparring match. Fanel: Those were actually near misses. ::He then noticed a part of his own shirt being cut:: Apparently you missed me a couple times too. Assanti: Correction, I don't miss, Jacen. I meant to cut your shirt. I'm not here to cause any damage...just to let off some steam and perhaps get a sneak peak at what I don't usually see. :: Cura gave him a wink of her eye and chuckled, slashing her sword before her and taking up a more offensive pose now. She was beginning to learn how he moved and what provoked him.:: ::There was a long line from his shoulder to the bottom of his shirt that appeared suddenly. Jacen noticed it and shook his head as he smiled a bit more.:: ::He then stabbed the back of his shirt and cut the rest of it off since the front part of his shirt was already cut wide open and hanging out. Taking off his ruined shirt and points his weapon ahead.:: Fanel: Let's continue. Oo What are you doing Jacen? You should stop right NO! You're already flushed from just her current look. Remember how you lost yourself at the naked weapons trial. So how can you survive when she still has half her clothes on when she's already got you by the balls?oO ::To explain, Jacen went through what some cultures would call a very strange way of combat testing. It was to test will power and of course the physical strength against the opposite sex. You first face off with the least amount of clothes on in most society to even be remotely descent. For both sexes it would have to be shirt and the shortest work out shirts anyone can think of. The object is to defeat the other side without the need of distraction of the opposite's.. .physical attractiveness. Both parties would be in peak physcial conditioning so the male would be as well built and the female would be built enough for an average fighting woman. The next stage is where men happen to lose too often. Hence the name "Naked Weapons trial". Both side would strip before each other and duel with whatever weapons naked. Jacen remembered distinctly he was already at a lost at the first stage with clothes on. He lost in the naked round. It wasn't too much of a shame. Many men had lost. It was only just to harden the discipline to both sexes that whichever sex you face even if the opposite is very attractive, you must never lose ground or composure... and Jacen was very close to losing his sanity simply because he could never fully keep it together when he sees a very attractive woman before him. Especially one he knows and deep within his instinctual heart...desire. He needed to remind himself of that he can look but not touch but all he's doing IS looking and he needed to stop or he'll lose.:: ::With that thought out of the way, Jacen stabbed forward again, fiercely.:: ::Cura slapped at his stab at her, hitting his blade away. She then countered with her own attack at his sword arm. Lunging in close enough she grabbed his arm with both her hands and then pivoted, lifting her left leg and striking him with her foot across his left cheek. Spinning back out, she released his arm and forward flipped as Jacen tried to counter attack in her retreat, but Cura knew he was coming. At every flip she made, his blade missed hitting her and when he stabbed forward, Cura turned into him. He turned as well and their swords clashed in a blur of motion between them. Yet, Cura found herself backing away as he charged, stabbed and lunched forward. Her kick had provoked his rage and she could tell he was eager for repayment somehow. He was losing his cool but trying to keep form.:: ::Cura, falling into the traditional fencing form, she moved swiftly. Then, their swods clashed and Jacen advanced instead of retreating, taking a risk and catching Cura off guard. Jacen parried her blade aside and was close enough to grabbed both her wrists, backing her up against the holographic wall and holding her arms up high over her head then to pushed her completely back against the cold wall. The immediate cold gave her a rush of goosebumps that even Jacen could feel them as he held her wrists tightly and held his sword at her neck to mark the end. The force of her hitting the wall had made her drop her sword.:: ::Oddly, for a few moments, the pair eyed one another as they stood there, panting and sweating. Overpowered, Cura could really make no move to break free. She was....at his mercy and he knows it. Jacen held her there like that for what seemed like an endless moment.:: ::Then finally, Cura spoke.:: Assanti: ...Touche' Fanel: Indeed...::He leaned closer.:: Oo What the frak am I doing?! oO ::His face grew just ever so closer than he would prefer. He was too close to her face...to her lips...to her body.:: Oo Stop me, Cura...make it stop...make me...oO He tried to mouth his words but they didn't come out nor did any protest hit him. He only felt his pulse on his lips and he could almost feel hers...on- ::The holodeck doors slid ajar suddenly and Wentworth stepped inside the holodeck. Jacen dropped his sword when he pulled back. It was extremely luckily for Jacen and Cura that they were just around the corner of where the arch door opened to the outside and it gave them both time to let go of each other and recompose. It would have been...awkward for Wentworth to walk in seeing their last positions against a wall and embarrassing. :: Wentworth: Sorry Sirs, Didn't notice this holodeck was occupied. :: Gesturing to the door.:: I'll...find another. Fanel: ::Not looking at him to hide his red colored face.:: Lieutenant.. .::Returning his face to the normal color as he walked to put on his jacket to cover his exposed top. He took several deep breaths until his heart stopped going at high warp.:: Assanti: Just a little spar, Mr. Wentworth. Fanel: Oo The understatement of the century, Cura...oO :: Cura motered away from Jacen and moved over towards her dress whites and donned her dress tunic. Then, she slipped into her trousers, grabbed her jacket, flipping it over her shoulder and headed towards the exit.:: Assanti: :;turning back to Jacen.:: Nice match, Lt Cmdr Fanel. I'd say we're evenly matched. Althought I could stand to learn a few moves from you, I see. I wasn't really prepared for that last one. ::Jacen turned back and managed a friendly smile and a plain looking face.:: Fanel: ::Attempting the best poker face:: Yes...::Muttering another line:: Niether was I... Assanti: Perhaps another time, we could explore one another's knowledge of this odd sport of swordsplay? Fanel: I'd be honored for another match...Oo In the next lifetime maybe...oO Assanti: I shall have to tell all the ladies to beware of your rusty blade. :: Cura chuckled loudly as she walked into the corridor.:: Lt jg Wentworth, you're with me. Wentworth: :: Falling in with the captain with no small amount of relief :: Aye, Ma'am --- This JP was proudly presented to you by: Cmdr Cura Assanti-Stone Commanding Officer USS Indria-A NCC-68482 and Lt. Cmdr Jacen Fanel Chief Tactical Officer USS Indria-A NCC-68482 featuring Lt. (jg) Jake Wentworth Chief Security Officer USS Indria-A NCC-68482 Posted By:

OOC: Here is the combined sims of... well, I'm still calling it "Knock, Knock." The first part is from Jarak, the latter is mostly from me, Jacen. ((CMO's Office - Sick Bay - USS Indria-A)) Jarak: You and I still have to get married. And children. We are going to have lots and lots of children. :: Grinning :: :: Saja kissed Jarak, and before he knew what happened, she slapped Jarak across his cheek :: Saja: If you ever leave me and not say goodbye, I'll give you more than a good smack! Jarak: :: Turned on by the klingonish show of emotion :: Grrrrrrr..HAHA, Yes my dear. :: Jarak took Saja into his arms, and passionately kissed her, while trying to de-robe himself. :: Saja: Mmmm. I'm going to have to slap you more often. :: Saja wrapped her arms about her Klingon/Human Doctor and lost herself in his kisses.:: (( USS Indria-A / Sickbay, ICU )) ::After getting back on his feet, Jacen decided that it would be best to check on the Doc so that he would be cleared to get back on the bridge...:: Fanel: And if those [...] Klingons are still there, I'll skin them and eat them for dinner...F****** Klingons are like the...what's a good term...gangsters, and not the kind from the early Earth 20th century. The kind in the inner cities from the late Earth 20th century. [...] punks. ::In walking about the sickbay area, he could see that the battle with the Klingons did a number on the crew. He did feel lucky to have left with just a headache. Some people would need some face reconstruction. He then snapped out of the trance. He quickly realized he needed to get back on the bridge, so he hurried to Jarak's office to get cleared, even if he might possibly not be.:: ::He walked to the door expecting it to be opening automatically, but it was locked apparently. He looked around and didn't see Jarak on duty and assumed he was either here or in his own quarters, but why would the Doc leave in a time like this?:: Fanel: I guess he isn't here. ::Then he heard a thump from the door and turned back to it ever so slowly...:: Doc? ::Obviously he didn't get an answer, but it wasn't like the door was incredibly soundproof, either. Jacen cautiously walked closer and then looked to see a glass of water on a table next to him, he poured out the glass and then pressed it on the door and placed his ear on it to hear. Then he stopped and put the glass down.:: Fanel: What am I in grade school? ::He then knocked on the door since he assumed to protect privacy, the Soc might have also turned off sensors and com to the room. It didn't take a rocket scientist for Jacen to figure out who else is in there with Jarak and what exactly they were doing. Especially since most starfleet officers are technically, in a manner of speaking, "rocket scientists". He could leave them be, but he needed official clearance to get back on duty and as an officer a rank higher than Jarak, this is something that he should set aside.:: Fanel: Doc, I know you're in there! And Saja, if that is you too, front and center, Ensign. ((Inside the Office)) :: Suddenly there came a rapping and it wasn't them! After a mad flurry of uniforms stretching this way and that and a blurr of a white lab coat. Saja growled under her breath as she tried to pull on her tunic. It was always so tight around the chest. Before she could protest, the door swished ajar and Saja stopped her boots into place and fussed around with her golden locks of hair. They were a mess as she glanced into a mirror!:: Saja: oO Frell it Oo ((Outside)) ::Jacen stood tall and waited for the door to open up to reveal whoever decided to walk up first. Jacen could tell, no smell what was transpiring behind closed doors and from Klingons...that is an understatement, and Jacen knows it well enough. Kinda reminded him of the year he spent on the Klingon homeworld. He rolled his eyes a bit.:: Fanel: Doctor, I need your go to get back on duty. I hope I wasn't...interrupting anything important. Looks like a meeting you were having. I hope it wasn't serious. ::He said in the most sarcastic and also serious tone.:: Jarak: We were just communicating plans for our marriage..klingon style. ::grinning :: Fanel: I don't need excuses, doc and is there wrong with your room? This is your office, not your bed chamber. Jarak: I am the Doctor. I am here almost 24/7 Fanel. This is as much my bed chamber as it is my office. ::Smirking :: Fanel: I need you to clear me for duty. Jarak: :: grabbing his tricorder form the Desk, and scanning Fanel, while trying to hold a towel around his waist. :: You're fine, Lt. You can return to duty. ::Jacen didn't wait for a response while the good doctor was scanning him and looked over to Saja in the back hoping she was descent enough, as he can clearly tell. Raising his eyebrow a bit..:: Fanel: Ensign Saja, report to your station and help out. We need everyone standing to report status...Now. ::With great tone.:: Saja: Humph :: growling somewhat.:: Yesrrrr sirrr! ::Most might be a little more cautious and maybe even afriad when getting in between a man and a woman and their...moment, especially if the man and woman are Klingons or in Saja's case, part. It didn't matter to Jacen if he had interrupted 2 Klingons fully engaged in passion, he was an officer, higher rank in the matter than both of them and since this had nothing to do with medicine, he could pull that authority on Jarak.:: Saja: Sir... I will need to- Fanel: Report to your station, Ensign. Now. You two can finish later and in a more appropriate place. :: Saja blushed all shades of red or whatever color a Klinogn blushes in. She tried to squeeze past Lt. Fanel who seemed unwilling to move out of her way for her to get by and so she HAD to squeeze by Jarak and Jacen with limited space between them. Saja was all but out of sorts and she smacked her own head.:: Saja: Oo Ooooh I'm going to get him one of these days! oO Jarak: I will see you later, my Love. :: Turning his head back to Fanel :: You're right in some aspects, here. But next time you interrupt me without proper intervention by knocking or alerting me through the computer, we are going to have words. You're allowed to go back to work, Lt. Be careful up there. :: Jarak turns away and orders the doors shut and locked, so he could get dressed. The doors shut in Fanel's face. :: --- Sims by Lt. Jacen Fanel - (Lead Author) Tactical Officer Dr. Jarak CMO and Ensign Saja Ja'Kor Science Offcer - PNPC (Played by Cura Assanti) Posted by Nathan Baker with permission from the Authors.

Ah, it's good to be back. I can't wait until my assignment.

Tell your Mom Happy Birthday for me. I'll send you a cellular peptide cake, with mint frosting.

I have several concerns about this turn of events. 1. The plot. It sounds great in theory, but what two-bit adventure could two fresh-out-of-the-gate cadets really get into? Is there a planet in desperate need of a drop kick or mind meld? 2. Casting. Who the heck are you gonna get to play Kirk and Spock? If you try and put A or even B-list actors into the rolls, nobody will buy it. Conversely, relatively unknown actors won't be as good and won't help the movie/story/characters either. The only people I would EVER trust in those rolls are Shatner and Nimoy. END OF STORY. 3. The history. Plenty of other people have mentioned this, so I don't want to beat a dead horse. However, something like this will severely impact the trek history already in place. Prequels were born and should've died with Star Wars Eps 1-3. Enterprise was fine, but still didn't live up to what it could've been. You figure the Trek boys could've figured this out. 4. The Director. I can't sit through an episode of Lost without saying "Huh?" 15 or 20 times. I've given up on that show. Plus, I'm not a big fan of the MI movies either. So are we supposed to believe that a guy who hasn't touched the Sci Fi genre is going to automatically reinvigorate the ST franchise with another prequel? My prediction: Star Trek dies at the hands of J.J. Abrams. It's time for new blood, both in the stories of Trek and the writing staff. How hard can it be to find some decent Star Trek fans who are also great writers and can truly reimagine Roddenberry's original vision? Apparently a lot harder than we can imagine.

WOW! I couldn't stop laughing the entire time I watched that thing. Best Star Trek parody EVER!!

“ House Before Self ” The cloaked IKS G’tag had been idly patrolling the Cardassian border for a week. No orders had come from the High Council about the strike mission. Dortath’s men were growing restless and had resorted to Bat’leth competitions in the mess area to squelch their thirst for combat. “My men will kill each other before we even see a Dominion patrol! Let alone carry out our mission,” Dorath thought as he sat in the Captain’s chair of the K’Vort Class Bird of Prey. He was a tall Klingon with narrow cranial ridges and deep-set brown eyes. Pointed teeth, a scar on his left cheek, and a burly voice rounded out his well-known appearance; well known to his crew at least. Many new crewmembers are treated to a story about the scar when they first come aboard. Legend says Dorath earned the scar when fighting a pack of Kolar beasts with only a D’Ktag when he was a young warrior. Dorath had never confirmed or denied the story. However, the fact he was a keen warrior and leader were all too true. Chancellor Gowron himself had given this command to Dorath during the original conflict with the Cardassians, siting the fact that the man was one of the best warriors Gowron knew. Now the G’tag once again fought along side the Federation and Romulans in the Dominion War. While on this patrol, the G’tag had cloaked and entered Cardassian space on a reconnaissance mission. After finding a secret supply base close to the border at Felmar 5, Dorath had relayed his findings to the High Command. “Well done Captain,” said T'Gor, the Klingon 4th Battle Group Commander, ”However, the High Council must decide whether you may engage the installation.” Dorath was a quiet and patient warrior. One of the few Klingons who could be said to have that virtue, but patience didn’t earn your house a seat on the High Council. The House of Dorath was one of the houses under consideration for a vacant seat on the Council. Dorath knew his conduct in this war would either earn the seat, or keep his house out of the Council for another century. This would be a personal embarrassment for Dorath and his house. After deep thought and meditation, Dorath made his decision. A decision that he made not for himself, but for the greater glory of his house. On the Bridge, Dorath stood up and addressed his crew over the ship-wide intercom. “Crew of the G’tag,” he huffed, “this is Captain Dorath. Now is the time to earn our place in Stovokor. We will attack the enemy supply post. I do not expect us to survive this, but what we do today we do for the greater glory of the Klingon Empire!” Cheers resounded through the hull of the ship. He began to yell, “If we succeed our names will be sung in many songs, our houses will be remembered forever, and we will walk beside Kahless for all eternity! My fellow warriors it is time to prepare for battle, because today is a good day to die!“ More yells and cheers filled the ship. Dorath smiled and sat down in his chair. “All hands, battle alert! Send a coded message to the High Council with our intentions. Helm, set a course for Felmar 5. Maximum Warp!” Four hours later, the ship arrived in the system. Ten Cardassian warships patrolled the area. Dorath knew he would need to sneak past the ships if he had any chance of destroying the base. Suddenly, the tactical officer said, “Captain! Three of the Galors are breaking off and are heading towards us! They must have dectected us! “ “Shall I reverse course Captain,” asked the helmsman. “NO! Disengage cloak, take us into the planet’s atmosphere,” barked Dorath,” Maximum Impulse!” The ship decloaked and began its run to the base. The Galors hammered the G’tag with their compressor beams. Dorath never flinched during the ride. Once the ship reached the planet and had descended into the atmosphere, the G’tag was in bad shape. “Aft shields have failed,” the engineer reported. “Main power is fluctuating and wrap drive is offline!” Dorath smiled and gave his orders, “Target the installation and fire at will!” Two blinding attack runs successfully destroyed the base and the G’tag began its ascent back into space. None of the Galors had fled, but now three Keldon class ships accompanied them. Dorath stood and gave his final order. “Target and fire the nearest ship. Set an intercept course. Ramming Speed!” The G’tag bored toward the nearest Galor ship. Every other Cardassian opened fire. The scene on the bridge was carnage. Dorath stood defiant in the middle of the room and watched the Galor get closer and closer. Aloud he said, ”Glory to the House of Dorath! Kap’lah!”

I agree Wolfie, Anyone who was gullible enough to fall for that... Well, my mother told me if you can't say anything nice...

I voted for the Ent-D in Generations. I just thought it was the end of a great ship. Even though I'm somewhat sad when any of the Enterprises are destroyed, that one just sticks out the most.

I'd like to address a few of these issues brought up about Riker: Concerning Generations- Remember that the Kilingons had the shield modulation frequency. The crew had no idea how they were cutting the Enterprise's defenses, so an effective strategy was hard to come upon in such little time. Insurrection: The Enterprise wasn't modified for travel through the Briar Patch. So pushing the ship was the only way to get a message to the Federation. PLUS, the So'na had subspace weaponry which was far superior to the Enterprise's aresenal. But, I'll go ahead and agree with you on the Rascals and BoBW argument.

Sorry Rocket, But according to StarTrek.com and several other sources (including my own recollection of watching the entire last season), Voyager ended it's run after 7 seasons.

If I remember, they did have PADDs on TOS. They just were bigger and didn't call them PADDs in the shows. I'm upset that Enterprise is cancelled, but they'll catch a huge amount of flak over ending it right before the Romulan War. That's what really kinda cheeses me off.

Again, that would corrupt the timeline. At this point, I don't think Archer needs any help. He's shown that he and his crew can take care of things without help from the future.

I watched the two "Storm Front" episodes. I thought they were very well done. As for sending ships back from the future, you have to realize that the "future" you're referring to wouldn't exist as Daniels knew it. The Federation was destroyed by the bad guy's altering of the timeline. When Archer and Co. destroyed the time conduit thing, everything was reset and put into balance. I missed "Home" because I was out, and I probably won't get to see it unless I can figure out if it will be on before Friday. This upcoming block of shows with Brett Spiner as Arik Soong looks awesome. Genetic Supermen, the Orions, and Klingons look to make it pretty cool.

It's nothing big Beta. Just forget I said anything. It's no big deal.

Uh... you gotta ask nicely buddy.

Yeah, that was a bit lame. But, other than that, I'd say he was a great Captain.

I'll let you in on a small secret, No, it's too secret. I'll PM you!