James T. Kolk

It had taken what seemed like a lifetime for the old man to drag himself and his tiny shuttle through the vastness of space to the starship museum at the Astral V Annex. When he arrived, the museum was closed for the night. Reluctantly, he booked a room on the station's habitat section, beamed himself and a change of clothes in, and went to sleep. Just one more day. He'd been alive for far too long, but he still had one thing left to do. Finally, it was within reach. He could get it done tomorrow. And then he could die. Just one more day... The next morning, he woke up early, his ancient, aching bones robbing him of rest and sleep just as they had for years innumerable. Even so, he found himself touched by an ounce of excitement that he hadn't expected. He would finally be able to— "Mr. Sloan?" The voice startled him. He'd been alone in his little personal shuttle for so long. But quickly enough he remembered that voices were often transmitted long distances for more efficient communication. "Yes?" "Given your unique history with the craft, we've arranged a private tour for you. If you're ready, we'll begin as soon as you arrive." "Really? Thank you! I'll--" he coughed, his age getting in the way of his excitement, "I'll be right there, Sloan out!" He felt like a young man again. He even closed the line like he had back in his Starfleet days. He was ready to leap into action. He felt like he could wrestle a targ! ...until he tried bounding out of his chair and found himself feeling quite dizzy. Then he decided to just take it easy. -- "Hello, Cmdr. Sloan. My name is Anthony McGovern and I will be your guide. Welcome to the Astral V Annex," the young man said cheerily. "I'd like to apologize for our inability to help you last night. We simply weren't prepared to accommodate you at the time." Sloan raised a hand to wave off the youth's apology. "Never mind, young man. You're here now. Let's get started." "And you're sure you don't want to see any of the other craft in our museum?" "No. Thank you. Just..." Nathaniel Sloan looked out the starport nearby and, for the first time, noted that they had moved the Vissian starship he'd come to see directly in front of the window. He lost his tongue for a moment as he stared at the craft. It was more graceful-looking than he remembered. Of course, the hull wasn't scorched anymore, so that helped. "Just the Lassira." The youthful guide immediately began to stroll toward the nearby transporter room. "Alright, we'll board her in the aft section and move our way forward." The man's words were too close to those he'd heard years ago. As he followed Mr. McGovern, he couldn't help but relive that fateful day. -- Sloan, a Lieutenant JG at the time, had been the Chief of Security on the Miranda class USS Saratoga, NCC-1867, when it responded to the Lassira's distress call. By the time they arrived, the small Vissian craft was badly damaged and her attacker had run off to hide in a nearby nebula. The young, dark-haired Nathaniel Sloan read off what his console was telling him. "It's a Vissian scout craft. Crew compliment, 20. I'm only reading 5 life signs, minimal power, and their warp core is active but unstable. It could go critical at any time." The science officer, full Lieutenant Anthony Frankel, added exactly what the captain didn't want to hear: "I'm reading substantial radiation leakage from the core. Transporters won't be able to lock on unless the Vissians move to the aft, away from their core." "Are their communications intact?" Captain Parisa Samu asked, looking at Nathaniel. He simply shook his head. "Alright, we'll board her in the aft section and move our way forward. Sloan, Matthews; you're with me." -- The old, humpbacked Commander and his young straight-laced guide materialized in the aft cargo hold, just as the <a name="lnp.">Saratoga's away team had years ago. Instead of the debris and broken, flaring conduit of years ago, the small ship was in perfect condition with reproductions of early-24th Century Vissian cargo containers to give visitors a feel for the time period. As the power automatically turned on to correspond with the arrival of visitors, Sloan could see that a golden carpet had been laid as a pathway to lead from the beam-in point to the door of the hold and beyond. And that doorway was where the Commander most wanted to go. -- "This way," Ensign Matthews said, pointing toward the half-hidden door on the far end of the cargo hold but looking at his tricorder. Lieutenant Sloan instantly began tossing debris out of their way, barely noticing the constraining nature of the thick maroon uniforms they were all wearing. He was so focused on tossing the heavy metal s[...]s of hull and cargo out of the way that he hardly noticed when his Captain joined him in the effort. A minute or so later, they were prying the unpowered doors apart through brute force. When the doors gave up the fight, they were faced with a wall and a hallway going to either side, but not forward where they wanted to go. "Which way, Mr. Matthews?" Captain Samu asked. "There are 3 to the right and 2 to the left. One of the 2 is fading fast." "Sloan, you take the left. Matthews and I will go right." "Aye, Sir," the adrenaline-filled Lieutenant said, starting down the hall. "And Sloan?" The man stopped and turned toward his captain. "I want you back here in 5 minutes." Sloan nodded and jogged down the hall and around a corner. -- Despite the older man's resolve to take a direct route to the door, the younger man was the first to the hall. Commander Sloan had lived longer than most humans and his relative speed had suffered as a result. "We can go either way around. Would you prefer to go—" "Left." The forcefulness of the old man's voice startled the 20-year-old tour guide, but he recovered quickly and led the way down the hall. "Do you have any questions about the ship? Is there any aspect of its operation that you've wondered about since…?" "Mr. McGovern, I appreciate your desire to be helpful, but… I just want to reminisce." "As you wish." A few minutes later the two were standing in the room that years ago it had taken Sloan mere seconds to reach. Though the room was brightly lit and comfortably furnished in the here and now, in Sloan's mind it was still dark, clothes and furnishings strewn about from the battle, deep violet blood pooled on the floor underneath a dead Vissian in one corner. -- The young Lieutenant leaned over the body immediately, checking the tricorder over and over again while attempting to find a pulse. It was no use. The woman had been dead before the Saratoga even arrived in the area. Suddenly he heard a clatter in the next room. Leaving the body as reverently as he could under the circumstances, he stood and passed through the next doorway. -- Slowly and quietly, the old man pried his eyes away from the corner where the body had lain. Turning, he crossed the room and went through the next doorway, which led into a pristine hallway. -- The young Lieutenant's hand-torch showed him the same thing it'd shown him everywhere on this tub: collapsed ceiling beams and loose conduits and wiring, some still sparking sporadically. In the distance, however, he thought he saw movement. Avoiding the exposed wiring, the dark-haired officer did his best to speed through the hallway. As he neared the next compartment, which looked to be the ship's main engine room, he called out to the person whom he'd seen rush about a couple more times. "I'm Lieutenant Nathaniel Sloan of the Federation Starship Saratoga. I need to get you out of here before the ship explodes." As he finished his statement, he stepped fully into the room. The Vissian officer sped from console to console trying to make repairs, barely paying Sloan any mind. He did take the time, however, to protest evacuating. "No! Lassira's not going to explode! Not if I have anything to do with it!" Sloan checked his tricorder, and it did seem that the man was making some progress re-stabilizing the core. It also seemed there was another lifesign in the engine room, though it was much weaker than this engineer's. "Is there someone else in here? If you or they need medical attention—" "Jossa. She was working on the engine core when we were attacked. She's over there." Sloan followed the man's momentary gesture to a slumped figure. Nathaniel knew from experience that it was never any use arguing with an engineer, so he left the man to his work and kneeled near the woman called Jossa. She didn't seem to notice his presence. Her eyes seemed to be looking straight through him and she kept muttering, "I'm sorry, Dreylo. I'm so sorry." "Jossa?" Sloan said. The Vissian woman almost looked at him, so he tried again. "Jossa? I'm going to take you to the aft hold, okay?" She stopped muttering and looked in his eyes, but that was all. "You're going to be all right, but we have to get you out of here, okay?" Finally she nodded, and Sloan lifted her to her feet as carefully as he could, wrapping her arm over his neck for support. As he and Jossa hobbled toward the cluttered hallway, Sloan called to the engineer who'd disappeared on the far side of the core. "Are you coming? Even if you stop the breach, you'll need medical attention; there's radiation all over this place!" "I'm not leaving till Lassira's safe!" -- "Crazy engineers," the crook-backed old Commander said under his breath. "Sir?" The younger man had followed Sloan in silence to the engine room and was surprised to hear him speak. "I warned him that the radiation could kill him, but he wouldn't listen." "Who, sir?" "Oh," the Commander quietly laughed at himself. Of course the young man wouldn't know what he'd been thinking. "The Chief Engineer of this ship, a man called Ressik. I never knew his name till after, but… He stayed on the ship, despite the radiation because he wouldn't leave 'till Lassira was safe.' Treated her like a living being. I never quite got that attached to any of the ships I served on, myself." The young man chuckled lightly. "You were never an engineer." The old man laughed, leading to a short coughing fit. They were common enough, and he recovered quickly. "No. No, I wasn't. … Might be why I lived so long." The young man smiled. "So, did Ressik make it?" "No. We got him off the ship eventually, but it was too late. The radiation had done too much damage. But I'm sure he'd be glad to know the Lassira's still safe and running." Young Mr. McGovern nodded thoughtfully and looked around the engine room, trying his best to imagine what it might've been like when Sloan had been here over half a century ago. He loved hearing stories about what it'd been like when people actually lived on the ships he told people about. But so many of them were from eras and species that were long dead that VIP visits like this were almost unheard of. Anthony sighed and looked back at the old man, who was now working his way along the golden-carpeted path toward a doorway on the far side of the softly glowing engine core. -- As Lieutenant Sloan carried Jossa down the cramped hallway, he became acutely aware of the passage of time. Carrying an injured woman on his shoulder made maneuvering the clutter of metal and crackling wires painfully slow and dangerous. It didn't help that the woman was half-delusional either. "Dreylo? Is that you?" she'd said more than once. After it was clear that telling her the truth wasn't working, he decided to play along. "Yes, Jossa. It's me." "Oh, Dreylo! You must take me back to my office!" "Why?" "I have something for you there. Something my mother gave me, and something you must give your child, when you have one." Now Nathaniel was curious, "Where is it, Mother? I'll go back for it when you're safe." "It's… it's in my locker, in a secret compartment." They finally reached the first room Sloan had found, with the dead woman on the floor. He didn't want the woman to suffer any more trauma than she already had, so he used the arm he had around her back to pull her into a hug. He didn't know what the Vissian norms of physical contact were, but he supposed it was unlikely that he could make her too uncomfortable. After all, she thought he was her sun. He didn't have long to wonder if he'd discomfited her, though. She was shorter than him and looked up into his eyes with her own deep-set pair. "When did you grow so big, Dreylo? Are you my guide?" "Guide? Yes. I'm here to guide you to safety." "You're my guide to the Shalzi Shores? How can that be? You are my son. You should follow, not precede." Nathaniel thought fast while he struggled to keep her back to the dead woman and shuffle the two of them to the other doorway. "My spirit is part of yours. It is linked to those of all of our ancestors. A part of yours led your parents to the Shores." "Of course! But… Dreylo! You must go back for it!" "I will. When you are safe." They were finally there, and it was only a short way to the cargohold, where he could see the Captain and Matthews shepherding practically uninjured Vissians through the doorway. Jossa must've seen them entering, because she immediately tried to jump out of his arms. "Let me go, my son. I can find my way on my own. You must—" "I must lead you the whole way, Mother. I swear to you, I will return for it," if this ship doesn't get blown to pieces first, he thought. -- "What are you looking for, sir?" The aged human was looking about the room with more focused interest than he'd shown in any of the previous rooms. McGovern reached out and touched the man's arm. "Sir?" "A locker. Is there one here?" Quietly, this time more to himself than McGovern, he said, "It has to be here." "Over there. Why?"The old man didn't respond. Instead he made his way, faster than he'd moved anywhere thus far, to the locker. "I really shouldn't let you off the path, sir. Everything on this ship is priceless. A piece of history." As the old man tinkered with the locker, he spoke as carefully as he could, though the excitement he felt was taking it's toll on his rickety old body. "Anthony, my boy. I am a piece of history. When this particular part of history was unfolding, I made a promise to a dying woman, and I intend to keep that promise." McGovern hesitated before stepping off the path himself, then knelt next to the old man. "What kind of a promise?" "I promised to return here for a family heirloom that was meant for her son. She died not long after we got her off the Lassira, and the Saratoga was called away on another emergency before I could convince the Captain to let me beam back for it." As he finished explaining, he finally managed to open the locker. The young tour guide peeked in for just a moment. As he'd expected, it was empty. "I'm sorry, sir, but everything that belonged to the crew was shipped to them or their families when the Lassira first arrived at the Annex." Commander Sloan reached one of his well-wrinkled hands into the locker and felt every surface while the young man talked. Just about the time he was finishing, the old man smiled. He opened the secret panel. Inside, he found a small box and pulled it out. "They didn't ship this." McGovern was speechless. After a brief, but supremely satisfying look inside the box, Sloan closed it again. "Young man, do you have any vacation time coming to you?" "What? Um… yes. Why?" "I'm too old to do what needs to be done at this point. Can I trust you to find the descendent of the Lassira engineer named Jossa and give this to them? Personally?" "Uh… I don't know. I…" "Consider it a dying man's request." The young tour guide swallowed hard. He felt deeply honored to have been asked to take part in this man's quest, and he was almost afraid to accept. But at the same time he couldn't say anything but "Of course." -- It had been easier than he'd expected for McGovern to track down the engineer's family. Her son, Dreylo, and his wife had passed on, as had the progenitor who'd helped them conceive, but their daughter was still alive. She had grown into a young woman, known as Lt. Commander Tralla, a Starfleet Officer. When McGovern caught up with her, she was awaiting the arrival of the Galaxy class USS Destiny, where she would fill the post of Chief Science Officer for the first time in her career. The young man found her in a pub on Starbase 211, staring out at the stars. "Lt. Commander Tralla?" She looked up at the young human whom she'd never met. "Yes?" With a broad smile, he said what he'd rehearsed so many times. "A friend of your grandmother asked me to give you this." He placed the small box on the table and walked away. THE END

(( POD CITY )) :: Sitting alone on a flat rock, Max gazed over the followers of the crew and those who had come down in the pod-things. He was surprised that so many had made it off that death trap alive and how many were helping each other. They had some strange habits.:: :: The cat's jaw opened and a yawn crept out, showing his teeth to any that would try and surprise him. He could defend himself. His claws were lethal weapons and his roar was that of a lion ninja from the plains of... wherever ninja lions came from.:: :: Splaying the fine display of claws on his right paw, Max scratched the skin underneath his nose and went back to standing proud, surveying his kingdom of humans and deciding which ones would be the fittest to take with him when he transcended the cliff tops to safe ground up above.:: :: He looked down at the sand and crewed up his face. He didn't relish the thought of more sand in between his paws. It'd taken him a few hours to get rid of the first lot and he was pretty sure he was due a nap any time soon. It wasn't fair. He didn't have the energy to keep watch over the silly humans and not take his compulsory six naps during the twenty-four hour period.:: Max: o0 All right, we can play this one of two ways... I can nap and you can continue your servitude or suffer... 0o :: He narrowed his eyes and looked around. No one held their hand up, in fact no one seemed ultimately bothered whatsoever. He grinned, as cat's do.:: Max: o0 Simply marvellous! Keep up the good work and don't forget, a clean camp is a happy camp! 0o (( FAST FORWARD – MEDICAL TENT )) :: It wasn't much later that the change in temperature had alerted the feline's skin to react with his inside working bits, making him wake up. He uncurled from the ball on the stone and stretched in every way he possibly could, making sure to crack out the annoying strain in his neck. He looked around and saw that he was completely and utterly alone.:: :: And freaked out.:: :: His eyes grew wider, his face matched that of a cat having had it's fur dipped in tar and chased by wild pigeons. There was a strange sense of ill omen that passed over the furry creature's features as he gazed round at the deserted Pod City. Where was everyone?:: :: He stepped a paw from the stone and felt the vibrations running through the sand. He looked down. It was vibrating oddly; unlike anything he'd felt before. His paw slipped beneath the sand, though only for a second, as though it was made of water instead of millions upon billions of teeny tiny rocks.:: :: Immediately he retrieved it, yanking it from the sand and back onto the stone. His whiskers twitched and without a second's worth of hesitation he ran for a pod, leaping up on top of it with a series of wild and uncontrollable jumps that even he was proud of. His kitten form had managed to reach the doorframe when he felt the rumble again, shut his eyes tight and refused to look down. A low grumble arose from the floor and it was all Max could do not to look down.:: :: He curled into a ball on the top of the pod. He could hear the incessant chatter on the inside and wondered what brainless moron had left him outside to be eaten by whatever it was on the hunt for kittens.:: Max: o0 Blast you all! I will... I will... As soon as this monster leaves! 0o TBC (PNPC) Max the Feline Intelligence Officer USS Ronin

... and so des de rest of us.

((Rakis - Polar Region)) ::Suddenly, one of the great beasts that had been stalking them erupted from the sand and fixed itself to the pod. Even Synak was startled when she saw it. It began dragging the tiny pod into the quicksand with it. The pod tilted and sank deeper into the ground. Mere moments after the attack the rest of the stranded were without their one hope of travelling across the planet safely.:: Sarion: Oh dear. There it goes... What do we do now? Tor: Isn't it obvious? We dig. Sarion: While digging is an option it'll be hard. We should move away from here. It's no longer safe. Besides, what would we dig with? Tor: Anything. We've got some spades, haven't we? If not, use your hands. We've got crew trapped under there! Sarion: It is a tragic loss, but they won't survive much longer... certainly not long enough for us to get them. Synak: I agree. How long do you propose we dig for? We have no way of knowing how far down they are. Tor: Are you not at least going to try?! Synak: And what if it comes back? We'll be sitting targets for it. Meanwhile it's getting dark. What temperature do you suppose a polar region drops to at night, Mr Tor? Tor: Pretty low, Lieutenant. So I think it would be a good idea if we get them out quickly. Synak: Then be thankful you don't have to make that decision. I am in charge and I say we move out. Or we'll all be dead by morning... Sarion: I quite agree it would be best to get moving. And quickly :: Jolan ignored her words and ran down the slope. Falling to his knees he sank his hands into the soft stand and began to dig. :: ::Synak flipped open her tricorder and scanned the region again. The Captain would be waiting, and time was running out.:: Synak: Sarion, please gather the rest of the crew and keep them together. Sarion: As you wish. ::Synak handed her tricorder to the bar tender.:: Synak: Here, use this. The Captain is 3km in this direction ::She pinpointed it on the tricorder.:: Sarion: That's good to know, but wouldn't you rather lead? Synak: I am going to help Ensign Tor locate the pod. We'll catch up to you if all goes well. Sarion: Then we shall make all haste. ::Sarion lowered her voice so that only Synak could hear:: If you wish to remain, it is your choice, but beware. Not all foes are easily seen. ::again speaking with a normal voice:: Good luck to you both. We should all be moving. ::Sarion turned and gathered the frightened crew members into a tight group. Together they moved off hastily through the desert towards the captain.:: ::After Sarion and the rest of them had gone, Synak turned to Tor Jolan, who was still on his hands and knee's digging. She stepped up behind him.:: Synak: I have always admired the Bajorans as a species. They've survived insurmountable odds against an aggressive, dominant race and have spent years rebuilding their society. All the while they have kept their faith and their values. :: Jolan paused for a moment before he continued to move the sand. The life pod couldn't be too far beneath the surface, could it? :: Tor: That's kind of you to say, Lieutenant. It's important to have faith in your actions, faith enough to see them through to the end. I'm sure you agree. Synak: I appreciate that fact. The Bajorans have made an excellent addition to Starfleet personnel. However, some of the older ones - who remember the Occupation and have struggled for freedom have had more difficulty integrating. Like yourself. Tor: I'm sure that explains why I'm still just an Ensign then, Lieutenant. I made the decision to join Starfleet to get away from Bajor, but perhaps you're right, perhaps I don't want to fit in here. Starfleet's like the Militia, it always comes down to who's dishing out the orders. Synak: It is true. Although you will not remember me from your days of the Occupation. I, however, realised not too long ago who you really are. Freedom fighters, terrorists and even...collaborators have difficulty accepting the leadership of others. Especially when they've given their all for the cause. You, for instance, have constantly undermined my authority since we touched down on this planet. :: Jolan paused when Synak mentioned the word 'collaborator'. His hands, buried up to the wrists in the sand, clutched the phaser hidden there. :: Tor: So you do know. Enlighten me, how did you find out? Synak: It didn't strike me until now. Starfleet Intelligence has done a small background check on Bajoran Collaborators, but much of that interest was lost during the War. The Occupation was old news by then, and a bigger threat was being posed by the Dominion. Much of the Intel then was being done on Cardassia. You'd be surprised at what old archives the Obsidian Order left after its demise. Tor: Huh. And I thought the Obsidian Order were supposed to be good at keeping secrets. Synak: They were ultimately ineffective. Tor: Tell me, Lieutenant, once you've had me discharged from Starfleet, where would you see me go? To Bajor to face charges, or to Cardassia perhaps? Synak: It depends. What exactly is the statute of limitations for treason on Bajor? I'm sure Cardassian justice is much more thorough. Tor: Ha! The Cardassians would kill me quicker than the Bajorans would! They hated the fact that they had to rely on people like me to do their dirty work, things that they couldn't do themselves because the Militia were too much for them. I'm a sign of weakness to the Cardassians and you know how much they like weakness. :: He paused :: It's the same with you, isn't Synak? I undermined you in front of the crew, made you look weak, now you want revenge by pulling my past into the light. Starfleet Intelligence isn't much different to the Obsidian Order, or the Tal'Shiar, is it? Sometimes I wonder if Bajor would be better off without the Federation. Synak: Revenge is irrelevant. I am Vulcan. Bajor took the necessary step to reassert itself on the galactic stage. However I do believe the addition of the wormhole made Bajor a household name in the Alpha Quadrant, especially when Jem'Hadar troops were destroying worlds. Tor: You're right, I didn't have much say in the direction Bajor took. Once the Cardassians left I lost all my rights. I'd thrown my lot in with the wrong side, gambled and lost. Synak: It happens. Tor: ::shrugging slightly:: You don't understand the situation. Vulcan's can detatch their emotions, Bajorans on the other hand are very emotional. It seemed, at first, to be a good way to ease the suffering of my people. I thought the Cardassians were there to stay, the sooner I convinced my people to accept that the sooner the suffering would end. I thought that the Cardassians would even leave us to it if we didn't cause them too much trouble. But, after a while, it was clear that wasn't going to happen. By then it was too late. Synak: It is understandable to some, what you did. Bajorans wouldn't agree. Cardassians would use it against you. Do you think the Federation has the slightest interest? You've committed no crime in the Federation's eyes. If you stand trial, it will be by Bajoran law. The Prime Directive forbids... :: Jolan shook his head. :: Tor: No, I'm not prepared to let that happen, Synak. Synak: Jolan, I am an Intelligence Operative. Information is my business. I have been ordered to utilise information both for the protection of the Federation from it's enemies, and to use it against it's enemies. I know the regard on which ordinary officers see us. I think Captain Mar would have had me physically removed from her ship when I arrived. The crewmembers avoid me, for fear I'll overhear something I shouldn't. People have such low regard for Intel members that they genuinely think we corrupt innocent, decent people into being coldhearted, evil spies. The truth is we do it to protect people. I can protect you... :: The Bajoran laughed bitterly at her comment. :: Tor: I've seen how the intelligence services protect people. Synak: What I'm trying to say is I know how to keep a secret. You don't have to throw your life away by doing something foolish. I will help you, if you wish. Tor: Until you have no further use for me? I don't think so, I'm not ready to become your puppet. I had enough of that under the Cardassians. Synak: Very well. Then it is my duty to expose you, and have you arrested when we reach DS17. :: As the Vulcan turned away to follow the rest of the crew, Jolan lifted his phaser out of the ground and stood up, facing her. :: Tor: I'll do whatever it takes, Synak. I've done a good job of escaping my past. Synak: But it has inevitably caught up with you, as most crimes do. Shooting me will get you nowhere. I will be missed by my department. Tor: You don't think I've shot people in the back before, Synak? Bajorans that I liked a great deal more than I like you? ::Sensing the conversation was taking a more serious tone than before, Synak gripped her own phaser. In one swift movement she had her own weapon pointing at him. It was a stand-off. She knew he wouldn't back down. He had a lot to lose, and those with the most to lose often acted irrationally.:: Synak: I will defend myself if necessary. I have been authorised to kill on many occassions. Tor: ::He smiled, but it was without humour:: And I haven't? Which of us is the biggest murderer here, Synak? I don't think your hands are completely clean. Synak: I do not think you are willing to shoot me. I could always shoot first, and put you out of your misery. Tor: You're wrong. Synak: Am I? ::For a moment he looked as though he was going to back down. She could see a lot of mixed emotion in the man. Pain, but pride. A wish to be forgiven, but a lifetimes worth of guilt.:: Synak: Put the phaser down, Jolan. Tor: I...can't. ::There was a blast of intense light in the semi-darkness and for a moment it was unclear who fired first. Synak sensed Jolan was pulling the trigger and was sure she responded in the same fashion. As the light of the maximum setting of a hand phaser dimmed into the bitter twilight of the planet - Tor Jolan was alone in the dunes; a faint scorch mark in the sand where Synak had once been standing. After a second that felt like an hour, Jolan dropped to his knees and began to dig again. Perhaps that creature would come back, but perhaps now that wouldn't be such a bad thing. :: Lieutenant Synak Security/Intel USS Ronin simmed by Lt.Commander Danny Wilde Chief TAC USS Ronin & Ensign Tor Jolan Geologist USS Ronin simmed by Jhen Thelev Chief Operations Officer USS Ronin

Tekra too was a member a long time ago, and he has occasionally haunted the forums since, but I believe he too went through training to re-join us. Right Tekky?

((Medical camp, Ronin Village)) ::Shortly after the Doctor had finished her amputation of Marty's leg, Karynn saw some familiar figures in the distance: Lt. Brice and his young son. She smiled at seeing the two together and began hoping that the three would somehow find some time together during their exile on the dusty planet.:: ::Matthew grabbed Ethan's hand and tugged on it, a big grin on his face. He pointed into the distance. Matthew could clearly see something and was so intent on trying to pull his father over the sand toward whatever it was. Before Ethan could think, Matthew had tugged his hand away from his father's and started legging it over the sand, as fast as a toddler could run.:: ::Karynn saw the smaller shape speeding towards her and smiled. It looked as though she was going to get a moment with the two humans, and, even if it was super short, it would still be enjoyable. After looking down at the sleeping human in front of her, she stepped to the edge of the tent in time to catch the little child. She hoisted him onto her hip and smiled at the Chief Engineer chasing him.:: Ehlanii: ::to Brice:: I think this little guy belongs to you. ::Ethan caught up with them and just managed to come to a halt in front of Karynn, nearly going headlong into the tent. He straightened up and smiled, albeit a bit shaken, quite admiring the smile onKarynn's lips.:: Brice: Him? ::Matthew pointed to himself and giggled at Karynn.:: Matthew: Ree! Ehlanii ::with a slight laugh:: Well, then, I'll just have to take him to lost and found later. Think they'd mind if I took care of him for a couple of hours first? ::Ethan chuckled, slipping one hand into his pocket and the other patting his son on the back.:: Brice: Nah, I wouldn't say so... They've got to have something to hang instruments from. :: Matthew, although wouldn't have understood him, did a good job of ignoring his father and was finding Karynn's forehead ridges quite perplexing.:: ::Karynn enjoyed feeling the little boy's curiosity as he played with her forehead ridges. Sometimes she loved children just because they were so simple and open. Shifting his weight so he fit a bit more comfortably on her hip, she turned her attention back to the Engineer.:: Ehlanii: Speaking of instruments, how is it going over there? ::she inclined in the direction of the Engineer's section of "town".:: ::Ethan looked back over and saw Lars kick another machine to the ground, presided over by Sarah and Jack looking nonplussed about the whole thing.:: Brice: It's like the circus has set up shop and we're going all out with the elephants. Ehlanii: In all seriousness, would you like for me to watch him for a few hours? Might be one less monkey in that circus of yours. ::The young engineer lifted an eyebrow. Surprising, to say the least.:: Brice: Yeah... that'd be great. I was going to ask Ro but I think she's got her hands full. You sure you won't mind? ::Lazily, Matthew slumped his head onto Karynn's shoulder and yawned, a quick shift from his wide-eyed rapture moments before. Ethan smiled and rubbed his son's back again, looking at Karynn.:: Brice: I think this is his way of saying he likes you. ::Karynn rubbed the little boy's back.:: Ehlanii: That's good. I like him too. Anything I should know about taking care of him before you take off back to your Monkey Wrenches? ::Ethan shook his head and rolled his sleeves up. The sun might have started to set but it was still too hot for his liking.:: Brice: Don't feed him after midnight and never get him wet. ::he shrugged:: Generally baby stuff. If he moves he's constructing chaos, so beware and all that. ::Karynn chuckled.:: Ehlanii: I'll keep that in mind. ::She started to turn toward the Medic tent and then turned back.:: Ethan? Think we could have a chat sometime while we're here? ::He nodded.:: Brice: Of course... Later? Ehlanii: ::with a nod:: Sounds good. ::to Matthew:: Say bye to Daddy. ::she used her free hand to wave to Ethan.:: ::Matthew didn't say anything to his father, offered him a small wave before going back to curl his fingers around Karynn's hair in an attempt to find out it's eternal meaning...:: Ehlanii: ::to Ethan:: Stay hydrated! ::to Matthew:: OK, little guy. Lets get you out of the sun. ::Karynn moved back into the shade of the tent and pulled her bag and jacket out of the sun which had managed to shift and find them. She found an area out of the way of the medics who were now busy treating various cases of dehydration and heat-stroke and sat down in the sand to play with the little boy.:: Ehlanii: So... what games do you like to play? ::The young lad blinked and picked up sand in his hand, letting it fall grain by grain. He tried to form the words, but thanks to the slow rate at which humans developed, he hadn't quite managed to master it yet.:: Matthew: 'And... ::The Haliian reached out and brushed a bit of dirt off the boy's face. It was a futile cause, but for some reason she felt driven to do it.:: Ehlanii: Yes, sweetie, that's Sand. Should we make a tower out of it? ::Karynn scooped up a handful and drained it right over where he had let his go.:: See? It makes a little mound. Here. Have you ever played this? ::She covered her face with her hands and then uncovered it quickly, speaking in a sing-songy voice.:: Lala vie. ::Matthew blinked. The accumulation of sand had fascinated his young mind but the woman's sudden disappearance then reappearance had freaked him out. He sat still, afraid to move for a moment.:: Matthew: Lala... vie? ::Karynn laughed and nodded:: Ehlanii: I guess you haven't played it. ::Covering and uncovering her face:: Lala vie. ::He blinked again. This was amazing!:: ::He covered his own eyes to copy her and grinned as she uncovered hers.:: Matthew: Vie! ::Karynn giggled:: Ehlanii: Good job Matthew! ::The two played for a little bit and Matthew was just getting the hang of it when reports of the disappearances, and some of the mangled survivors, started coming into the Medical camp. Knowing that the camp would be no place for the little boy, he was the first person Karynn wanted to get to an escape pod. Grabbing her bag, she slung it over one shoulder and then set the little boy back on her hip. With a few of the ambulatory patients in tow, she headed toward the nearest escape pod. When they got there, she sat Matthew on the floor.:: Ehlanii: ::in a serious voice:: Matthew, I need you to be a big boy and sit very quietly here. I'll be back soon but I need to help some other people first,OK. You stay here? ::His bottom lip started to quiver and he was beginning to cry, holding his arms out to Karynn. He didn't want to be left on his own; she wouldn't leave him... she couldn't leave him!:: ::Karynn reached down and hugged him, thinking and feeling calm, comforting feelings. This was one time when she wished her empathy went both ways. She wished that she could convey that she'd be right back, as soon as she helped some other people.:: Ehlanii: Sweetie, I'll be right back, I promise. I have to help them get some other people to safety. ::Whispering:: I wish I knew how to explain that to an eighteen-month old. ::After giving Matthew an extra squeeze to help comfort him a bit, she turned to one of the crew in the pod.:: Ehlanii: Keep an eye on him, OK? I'll be back as soon as I help get more patients to safety. ::After receiving an affirmative reply from the woman she had asked, Karynn pulled out her quilt from her bag and wrapped him up in it.:: Ehlanii: Snuggle in this, and I'll be right back,ok? ::She turned and jogged back to the medical tent.:: ::As she left, Matthew didn't know what to do. He was crying but in his head he knew that crying wouldn't get much out of it, yet still it seemed like the best way to vent what he was feeling, since he couldn't transform it into speech. He wanted his dad... he wanted his mum... he wanted Karynn... he was alone again and he really didn't like it. Sniffing, he wiped his nose and the back of his jacket and plonked his bum down on the floor, sniffling to himself.:: ::Karynn helped some of the medical staff get less-than-ambulatory patients to the escape pods. With everyone except the actively injured and the doctors caring for them safely inside the pods, Karynn made her way back to Matthew's pod. She stepped inside and quietly closed the door and pulled the little boy onto her lap.:: Ehlanii: I told you I'd be back. Are you doing OK? ::The little lad opened his eyes gingerly and yawned again, getting a mouthful of quilt instead of air. He small hands clawed at the blanket until it was free from his face and he could see the smiling ridges of his saviour once more. He laughed, which probably came out as more of a gurgle, but it was the sentiment there all the same.:: ::Karynn grinned at the little boy and snuggled him a little tighter.:: Ehlanii: Looks like you're doing OK. ::She reached down and pulled the purple quilt away from his face.:: Shhh. Back to sleep, alright? ::Pulling the boy close to her chest, she leaned back against the wall of the pod, determined to survive the attack.:: Lt. JG Karynn Ehlanii Ship's Counselor USS Ronin and Lt. Ethan Brice Chief Engineering Officer USS Ronin and Matthew James Brice Token Little-One as SIMmed by Lt. Ethan Brice

Don't worry about the next one Sal. Just take it one step at a time. You can do it. We're all cheering for you.

::Waves a little flag vigorously:: And there wasy much rejoicing. Yay!

Congratulations to all of you! We look forward to the contributions you'll make to our fleet and the adventures we'll have together.

Rough idea in the head, then sit down writing? Sounds about right to me. Although, oddly my very first Writing Contest entry did actually have a written outline first. But I swear that was a fluke. No, the "skeleton" this time is just in my head. Unfortunately he's staying there. Grrr. I'll scare him out one of these days.

I myself and having an unusually difficult time this round. I have the skeleton of an idea, but I just can't seem to get it fleshed out... I'll keep trying and hopefully get it done by the deadline.

As I do so many of Ethan's posts, I thuroughly enjoyed his extremely artful way of describing just about everything. I love the way he tells us what's going on but also leaves us guessing and anticipating where this new plot will take us. He didn't just move the plot along, he created it. Thanks Ethan for another great SIM.

Lt. Ethan Brice - "Ships in the Night" (( BLACK OF SPACE )) :: What was that old saying? In space no one can hear you scream? The lack of atmosphere in space meant that sound couldn't travel. No sound meant no screams. It meant that the rush of the warp nacelles on either side of the Akira class starship wouldn't have been heard even if there were life forms in the vicinity to hear them.:: :: A child in an orphanage played with a domino collection, arranging them neatly and precisely in a line, sweeping into a curve and back around again. She knew what she was doing. It was all mathematical.:: :: The monogrammed hull careened softly through the black, pin-[...]ed darkness of space, aware of its own existence. The gentleness of its journey was a parallel to the damage which streaked down the gun metal exterior. Scorch marks, cracks and running wave lines rippled like water over the wounded battleship on its way home.:: :: Gliding through purple and blue, flickers of light like forks of lightening flashed through the black and onto the hull, tapping like a water drop would falling from a leaf in the rain, barely glancing off the surface before distributing itself in all directions. It was a magnet moving with such timed precision through the nebula that every simple turn, every minute fraction of a degree was a complex system of mathematical equations.:: :: The child flicked the first domino, humming to herself. It knocked into the second and started to drop in a descending order, creating a pattern along the floor.:: :: A bolt of the transparent lighting flashed over the hull once more; it triggered a set of systems to go into a spiral. Immersing the ship into a dampening field, a cocoon was established around the unsuspecting crew, shutting down subspace transmissions almost immediately. Starfleet Headquarters would realise this before the Ronin would have the chance.:: :: One system after another started to fail. Subspace transmissions, weapons, shields... then the most detrimental of all. The two who would register this were very different. One a red haired Captain who would know the signs immediately and the other a dark haired Engineer who would be reading it with a wide eyed expression.:: :: As the last domino fell, panic would descend.:: TBC Lt. Ethan Brice Chief of Engineering USS Ronin

(( USS Ronin - Chief of Operations Office )) :: The pile of PADDs were still on the desk in front of Jhen. He'd been staring at them for over twenty minutes now, trying to build up some sort of motivation to go through them. His head was still buzzing from the energy wave that has passed through them in the deflector control room earlier. At the time he'd felt euphoric as the energy had coursed through his veins, felt like he'd be able to fight the whole galaxy single-handedly. But now that feeling was gone, leaving a numbness behind like a dull headache. The PADDS hadn't moved. It was the same work he'd been doing when the Ronin, along with the Independence and the Ursa Major, had been sucked through the wormhole - crew manifests and quarter assignments. Jack Shepard and Karynn Ehlanii had both been promoted to junior Lieutenants and Jack Kolk had taken on a role in Flight Ops; Jhen made a mental note to see if he wanted some quarters closer to his new workplace. And there was also the suprise appearence of Captain Robin Phoenix onboard - Jhen would have to see about getting her one of the VIP suites sorted out once she left sickbay, it wasn't as if they used them a great deal. And then there was D'Warte, one of the Ronin's fighter pilots. As far as Jhen was aware he had been the only fatality on the mission. They'd been lucky, but that didn't help D'Warte. The Andorian picked up the top PADD again and looked at it - an itinery of D'Warte's personal belongings; these were things that had meant something to someone, now just a collection of items to be packed up and shipped out to his family. It just seemed so... pointless. Jhen carefully replaced the PADD back on top of the pile. He needed someone to talk to, an outside perspective. :: Thelev: =/\= Computer. What time is it in Skalaholdt, Andor? =/\= Computer: =/\= The current time in the city of Skalaholdt is 19.39 hours. =/\= Thelev: =/\= Put me through to the office of Councillor Thelev of the Andorian planetary council. =/\= :: Jhen turned the screen on his desk to face him as he waited for the Federation symbol to clear. He knew he'd left it too long to make this call. As the seconds stretched by he wandered if he was being ignored, but abruptly the screen displayed an image of a female Andorian with long silver hair and dark eyes, wearing an elegant and expensive-looking yellow dress. The woman gave Jhen a frosty look which mimicked the snow falling softly through the windows behind her. :: Thelev: =/\= ::Smiling sheepishly:: Hello, Frith. It's been a while... =/\= Fritha Thelev: =/\= ::coldly:: A while? Jhen, I haven't spoken to you in over 6 months! ::pause:: Are you in some sort of trouble? =/\= Thelev: =/\= No! No, nothing like that. I... I just needed someone to talk to. Things have just been so... constant here recently I've not had the chance to think, let alone get in touch. ::sighs:: I'm sorry, Frith, I should have called you ages ago. ::nodding at the image onscreen:: You look nice, though, is that how the all the councillors are dressing these days? =/\= F. Thelev: ::She smiled and the coldness vanished from her face.:: =/\= No, actually. I was just on my way out to a charity dinner - the Tholian Ambassador's going to be there. ::Tilting her head:: Now, what do you need to talk about? ::smiling again:: You sure you're not in trouble? =/\= Thelev: =/\= Ha! No, not this time. ::sighs:: I just wanted to talk to you, not about anything in particular. Just, y'know, talk. =/\= F. Thelev: =/\= Oh, Jhen. You're my little brother but you really are an idiot sometimes. I'm always here if you need me - and I always know when something's wrong. So what is it? =/\= Thelev: =/\= Someone died today, someone from the Ronin. =/\= F. Thelev: =/\= ::quietly:: A friend? =/\= Thelev: =/\= No, that's just it. I've no idea who he was, don't think I ever met him. His death was an accident, I'm not sure of the details. But tomorrow I'll be arranging for all his possessions to be boxed up and sent off to his parents. I don't know, it's one of those things that got me thinking; did I make the right choice? =/\= F. Thelev: =/\= About Starfleet, you mean? =/\= Thelev: =/\= Yeah. I know it's a dangerous business, and people die out here, but this job I'm doing - it feels almost like I should be impersonal, treat the crew numbers same as the cargo, but I can't do that. I'm not sure if I should be a department head. =/\= F. Thelev: =/\= You care too much, Jhen, that's always been your problem. Always trying to take the burden for other people. The family of the man who died will deal with their grief. But that's the thing - it's their grief, Jhen, not yours. Now I'm not saying treat the crew like a bulk order of self-stealing stembolts, but you don't have to take everything personally. The family of the dead man don't need your grief, too, I'm sure they'll have neough to go around. Do what you need do and move on. =/\= :: Jhen looked away from the screen as his sister spoke. She was right, as she always was. :: Thelev: =/\= I guess so. I just haven't always felt very... professional since I graduated from the Academy. =/\= F. Thelev: =/\= ::raising an eyebrow:: Oh? And why's that? They promoted you to Lieutenant didn't they? =/\= Thelev: =/\= Well, there was the citicising a superior officer during an away mission thing. But I got an award out of it so... =/\= F. Thelev: =/\= An award? The parents didn't mention that. =/\= :: Immediately Jhen regretted what he'd said. :: Thelev: =/\= Ah, it wasn't anything important, realy, Frith. Just, er, something. =/\= F. Thelev: =/\= Jhen? =/\= Thelev: ::sighing:: =/\= It was a Purple Star. =/\= F. Thelev: =/\= Purple Star? The one they award for injuries in the line of duty and all that? ::pause:: You haven't told the parents, have you? =/\= Thelev: =/\= No, they'd only worry. Besides, it wasn't that serious. ::Jhen thought back to Quinn on the Ursa Major, limping her way down the corridor:: No, not that serious at all...=/\= F. Thelev: =/\= Well, I won't tell them if you don't. ::Glancing at her chrono:: I'm sorry, Jhen, I'll have to go soon. =/\= Thelev: =/\= That's ok, Frith, you've done enough already. =/\= F. Thelev: =/\= What about on the ship? Is there anyone you can talk to there? ::grinning wickedly: Any lady friends? =/\= Thelev: ::half-smiling:: =/\= No girls yet, no. They're all the wrong shade of blue for me. The crew, though ::nodding:: they're a good bunch on here, all of them. There's a few I'd consider a second family. I just wanted to talk to someone who wasn't onboard for a change. Tell the parents I'll speak to them soon. ::pause:: How's Bryn? Did she get into the Art Academy? =/\= F. Thelev: =/\= Still waiting to hear, but I think she's got a very good chance. Actually, I'm waiting to hear on something, too - there's an opening to work within the Federation Council. It's not quite the President's Office, but it's a start. =/\= Thelev: =/\= Frith that's great! Let me know, okay? =/\= F. Thelev: =/\= Will do. Anyway, Jhen, I'd better go. You take care, you hear? And make sure you use that holodeck program I made for you! Took me hours, and you're not always the best person with your temper. =/\= :: Jhen couldn't help but smile - even from so far away she was still looking after him. :: Thelev: =/\= Yes, yes, yes. I'm using it plenty. =/\= F. Thelev: =/\= You'd better. ::standing up and smoothing down her dress.:: And don't leave it so long next time! ::she paused and her image gazed out of the screen with tenderness in her eyes.:: Take care of yourself, Jhen. I miss you. =/\= Thelev: =/\= I will, Fritha. I will. I miss you, too, all of you. Now go on and get to that party. =/\= :: With a final slight smile she vanished, replaced by the Federation symbol once again. Jhen stared at it blankly for quite some time before he finally stirred and tapped his commbadge. :: Thelev: =/\= Thelev to Kolk.=/\= Kolk: =/\= Kolk here. =/\= Thelev: =/\= I need a drink. ::pause:: And a friend. =/\= Kolk: =/\= You're not the only one. Double Shot; five minutes. I'm buying. =/\= --- Lt. Jhen Thelev Chief Operations Officer USS Ronin

((Main Engineering, USS Independence-A)) ::What were the carbons doing to him? A moments confusion and then the truth. Suddenly he knew, he had all the information he needed. The vessel that had been his savior was called the Independence and the carbons had names as well. The strange one's name was Wood and the one in charge at his current location was called Ventu. Why had he been so blind before?:: ::It was like a whole new world was open to him. Knowledge began to flood his being; knowledge from and of the carbons thoughts, but also of the Blue/Whites and White/Blues. Knowledge of the universe; it was so much larger than he had ever thought. He could feel his thoughts expanding just as his emotions had.:: ::His light continued to expand encompassing first all of the Independence and then two more vessels. These vessels he learned from the carbons were called the Ronin and the Ursa Major.:: ::He let his light fall over all of them bathing all three Federation ships in blue light. He continued to expand taking in smaller vessels which were also of this Federation.:: ::He projected his feelings out to them, a sense of happiness, joy and love encompassing the three vessels and then reaching out further to the approaching armadas and encompassing them as well. These were his people.:: ::It was then that he realized his purpose an end to war, an end to the fear gripping his people. For they were both his people, the Blue/Whites and the White/Blues. They were both Maari only they had lost this knowledge long ago. They were the same as he, only they had been in so much discord they did not know it, did not know the potential they had.:: ::He projected his feelings of love, friendship and joy to all the vessels and then turned his attention to the three Federation ships. He sent out one last thought to all the carbons on all three ships....:: oO Thank You Federation. You have given my people a chance for love, peace, and independence. May joy and peace always be with you...a gift to you....Home...Oo ::The blue light began to pulsate around all three Federation vessels, the smaller vessels and the probe. The light grew in intensity and the ships began to move, slowly at first and then rapidly accelerating towards the wormhole. With one last push the vessels were thrust through the wormhole bathed in blue light.:: ::They emerged on the other side as the wormhole closed in a flash of blue light.:: ANYONE: RESPONSES Blue Alien Great Galactic Barrier as simmed by LtCmdr. Sidney Riley First Officer USS Independence-A

Or are we going to see a lot more from them now that the Blue Alien has given us cool stuff to work with? hehehe

(( WILDE’S QUARTERS )) :: The insidey bits of the ship were a great place to explore but it was even better when the Recon Agent found something he really liked. Following his whiskers, he’d managed to climb his way through a series of vents and Jefferies tubes, coming across all sorts on his way. Tools, toolboxes, even stashes of secret things – some of which he’d seen Jarod roaming around the galaxy with. Not at all surprising.:: :: However, when Max had nudged open the access panel and tumbled into a room full of fluffiness he couldn’t help but feel like a kitten again. It was all so magical! His little yellow eyes weren’t wide enough to take in the magnitude of this special place; full of comfiness all around! Cushions for the cat!:: :: He’d started on the sofa and worked his way through the rooms; loving every second of it. Spreading his paws, he’d dug them into the large comfy sofa and made himself a bed from the fluff that sprang from it after a single slice of a well sharpened claw. Wonderful! Feathers flew into the air and he had a joyous time trying to catch them. He learned quickly that jumping from the arm onto the cushion produced the puff of feathers from the hole; a discovery he put to the test for a long time.:: :: When he was bored, when the floor was finally covered in the white feathers, he hopped down and wandered into the sleeping room. He knew it was – the large bed in the centre gave it away. For a moment, Max sat down and just purred. The thought of lounging on something so divine was a luxury even for an Intelligence Agent. He was used to roughing it and scavenging for food but there it was – untouched by the hand of man and his for the taking. Marvellous.:: (( FAST FORWARD – AFTER A NAP )) :: On his back, paws outstretched, tongue hanging out in a rather comical way, Max was definitely asleep. It couldn’t last for long. His whiskers began to twitch and his nose moved. His tongue retreated back into his mouth and he turned over, onto his belly and kept as low as he could. Something was happening and he didn’t know what. He could feel it as the atmosphere in the room switched from being relaxing to… something else. He frowned… as well as a cat could.:: Max: o0 What the devil is going on? 0o :: Suddenly he was hit by something. A feeling swept over the feline, drenching him in its soft warmth. It was like a melody, like hearing a song from long ago and far away. What was happening? He wasn’t there, in the room anymore; he was floating, feeling the world revolving around him in perfect harmony with everything else. He felt another presence. A female swirling in the light, not in the darkness. She was in a sharp contrast to the dark behind her but she was moving away from it.:: :: The feline covered his eyes with his paw as he floated on his back, feeling as though soft hands were carrying him in the weightless sanctuary. Whispers of something; speech but nothing he could understand. It wasn’t for him to know and instead of being inquisitive; he understood. Some things he wasn’t meant to.:: :: Nothing could disturb him and for a quiet, short time, Max felt truly happy. Truly at peace with himself.:: (( FAST FORWARD AGAIN )) :: When he woke, he was lying on his side. Max shakily rose to his feet and shook his head to get rid of the residual feelings of the daze. He felt more then happy for the first time since setting paw on the Ronin. He felt… strange. Stranger then he felt before. He jumped down from the large bed and pattered over the feathers covering the floor of the living room.:: :: He slinked into the access hatch and back into the Jefferies tube, heading towards Sickbday.:: TBC PNPC Max the Feline Intelligence Officer Double Agent USS Ronin

Perhaps not, Jhen, but you can try...

I like this sim in that it does a good job of showing Syrak's quick thinking in a tense situation. He's got definite command potential. But, unfortunately, there were a lot of gramatical errors throughout, so I wouldn't rate it among the upper echelons of all sims ever written, which is a hard bracket to get into anyway. But, all in all, it show's a good officer doing his best in a situation we all hope to avoid: the imminent destruction of the starship we call home. Well done, Lt.

A very solid sim. I love the way both of you took the simple task of waking up in the morning to deeply explore your characters and the way they processed both the mission they had just been through and the days ahead. You both do that well and do that honestly in this sim, and I might've given five stars to this if not for the fact that, for the third time in a row, Toni has submitted a sim written, at least in part, by herself. According to the Top Sims Contest website, "the Top Sims contest allows members of our fleet to be recognized by their peers for superior writing ability." I believe this sim had the potential to fit that description, because it certainly was very well written, but Toni and Heath's crewmembers weren't given that chance. But, on the other hand, I was truly touched by Heath's rememberance of his lost crewmates and Toni's desire to help him grieve. Well done, but next time let your crewmembers pat you on the back before you pat yourself. I promise you, it'll mean more to you in the long run.

I'll second that.

You're such a tease, Sal. You always say, "maybe this time..." We'd love to read what you've got. Post a work in progress, if you can't finish by the deadline. Same to you, Jhen.

The Prime Directive: A Bedtime Story The Secret of Where the Ferengi Really Got the 'Rules of Acquisition' by Jackford B. Kolk "Once upon a time, there was a primitive race full of anger and hatred. They--" "Did they live in castles!?" The child interrupted, excitedly. "No," the father said, "They lived in houses filled with things that no one wanted." "Oh," the child let out, obviously very disappointed. The father smiled, amused by his daughter's fascination with castles, and continued. "Most people in this primitive race, despite their unusually large auditory organs, were not very good at listening. They fought over silly things, like who should eat first at meals, or who had a right to this heap of junk or that heap of junk, or which half of the population should get to wear clothing. Pretty soon they started killing each other over such things." "Ooo! With swords!?" The father sighed, pretending to grow impatient. "No. With whips and projectile weaponry." The girl cooed gleefully and began making noises that she decided sounded like whips and guns. Calming her down with a simple hand on her shoulder, he tried to bring her attention back to the story. "One day, a few of our people--" "How many?" "A lot." "How many is that?" "I don't actually know." "Oh." "Now, where was I?" Sheepishly, "One day, a few of our people..." "Oh yes. Thank you." He cleared his throat and began again. "One day, a few of our people wandered into the star-system and began observing the primitive species. They were horrified at how ruthlessly they slaughtered each other day after day. For days and weeks, our people debated about what should be done with the horribly violent race. Some said their brains should be altered to make them peaceful, but then they wouldn't have been themselves anymore. Others said they should be put to sleep and spread to planets all over the galaxy so that they couldn't hurt each other anymore, but that was going to be too much work. Still others said they should just be squashed like bugs, but that was precisely the type of behavior that we were trying to discourage in the primitives, so those who wanted that were banished from the assembly and forced to live out mortal, corporeal lives on a small planet called Qo'nos." "So, they weren't squashed like bugs? My friend Hannai's father told her this same story and she said the people who wanted to squash them like bugs were turned to mortals and then squashed like bugs." "Hannai must've been mistaken. No one was squashed like bugs." "Are you sure?" "Yes." The girl sighed. Her father was never any fun. He was always trying to teach her "valuable lessons" with his stories instead of making them truly adventuresome. She was entirely sure that real history was much more interesting. "Now... When all of the options had been considered and the possible outcomes projected, it was decided that the council would choose the most promising of the species, lure him into a secluded area, and then they would send someone to teach him how to lead his people. So one night, one of the primitives followed the trail we had laid to a moonlit hill in the rain. It always rained on their planet, you see. So much so that one of the things they always fought over was what kind of rain they were going to get the following day. But on this hill, we had stopped the rain, and the primitive stood, hunchbacked and cautious, looking at its limbs in any and every way that it could. It was trying to figure out why it wasn't getting wet anymore. In order to keep from confusing him, our chosen representative--" "Father, why don't you ever use names in your stories?" "Because... Well, I don't know. I guess because my father never used names in his stories." "Do you always do things the way your father did?" The man thought for a while. He had never considered that question, but it was a good one. "Yes, I guess I do." "That's boring." The man couldn't help but laugh at that. The universe was alway much simpler to her than it was to him. "Alright, I'll try to give them names from now on." "Good. What's the primitive man's name?" "Um... I believe his name was Gint." "Ew. That's an ugly name." "Yes, well, that one I didn't make up. Anyway, the Organian representative," holding up his hand, the father stopped his daughter from asking for his name, "we'll call him Pajor, made himself look like one of the primitives and gave Gint a book called, 'The Rules of Equitability,' and told Gint that if he lived by the rules in the book and taught them to others, he could bring peace to his planet and become a great and beloved leader." "What kind of rules were in the book?" "Oh, things like, 'Do to others what you would want them to do to you,' and 'To get what you want, sometimes you have to give the other person what they want.'" "Were all the lessons you teach me in this book?" Smiling, he said, "Yes." "That's dumb." "Is that really what you think of the lessons and stories I tell you?" he asked, giving her a look that said, "I love you, but I'm also disappointed in you." "... No." "Well, Gint did think the rules were dumb, and he also never trusted anyone who gave him things for free. So he took the book home and rewrote it with new rules. His rules were altogether different than ours. He wrote, 'Treat people in your debt like family... exploit them,'" the girl gasped at that, but the man continued, "and 'A man is only worth the sum of his possessions.' Then, when he had a lot of rules written in his new book, he decided that he would start sharing his rules with other primitives, but only one at a time, so that they would keep asking for more. The first thing he did was declare peace with all his enemies and then asked them to come to a certain place. The next day, when his enemies were in the place, he and his friends snuck in, killed them, and took everything they'd had. Then he told his friend his first 'Rule of Acquisition,' which he called the 162nd Rule: 'Every once in a while, declare peace. It confuses the heck out of your enemies.' After that, once a week he would stand on a big stone and tell whoever came to see him one new Rule. Of course, he also made everyone who listened to the Rules give him pieces of a useless metal called Latinum, which he told them was the most precious and valuable thing on the planet. Of course, since everyone was giving it to him, he quickly became the richest and most powerful man on the planet. He even gave himself the title, 'Grand Nagus,' which means 'Owner of All.' The father then paused to let his daughter think about what he'd said so far. She soon looked very confused and asked, "Is that it? He makes his own rules and becomes 'Owner of All'?" "That's the end of his role in the story. Yes." "So... you're saying that the moral of the story is... ignore what you've taught me and make my own rules and... I'll become Queen of All Organians??? That doesn't sound like you, Father." He laughed again and then explained. "No. You see, in the end, an uneasy peace was achieved on the planet, which was called Ferenginar. But in centuries to come, the primitives there learned to leave their world and began exploiting other peoples. If we had let them be, they might have destroyed themselves, and all the pain and sadness they caused on other worlds might never have happened." "Oh." "You see, we believe, now, that the universe tends to work itself out as it should, and even if we mean to do good to less advanced peoples, we can't guarantee that it will be for the best." "So we do nothing?" "That's right." "But... if we hadn't given Gint the book, he and all the little Fer... Fereng... Ferenginarians--" "Ferengi." "He and all the Ferengi would've died!" He quietly looked into his daughter's eyes, and then nodded solemnly. "What if the universe wants to use us to help primitive peoples like the Ferengi? Shouldn't we trust that it can balance our involvement too?"

I really like this post. It shows the struggle between personal feelings and duty extremely well. However, I couldn't give it 5 Stars because there were a number of grammatical errors throughout, and part of writing a Top SIM has to be taking the time to re-read and correct any errors before posting. I did love the post though, and kept wishing she could convince the Captain to let his children watch him work, or at least explain her lapse in protocol. I've never read any Starbase Ops sims before, but this one made me feel like I was there. Well done.

Ad. Anassasi: Transporting to the Surface, PT II: The Mission Begins ((Wheeler Colony: 1 Hour later )) :: Tully rises with glass in hand. Around him the chatter suddenly ceases as all eyes turn to watch. :: Andromeda: A toast. To the Federation and Captain Lancaster for freeing us once again from the tyranny that has ruled this world far too long. :: Around the table glass [...] together accompanied by a few cheers of agreement. Taking a sip, Jessa notes the look on Lancaster's face. :: Andromeda: Captain Lancaster. I would like to also present you with a small token of our esteem. :: Turning to the side, he nods to a pair of men standing there. Together the men retrieve a long, thin box. Various gems encrust the surface, enhancing the ornately carved sun-bleached bone surface. Around the table, voices murmur in appreciation. :: :: The table is quickly cleared. Laying the box before the Bear's Captain, the men step back to watch. Tully nods towards the box. :: Andromeda: If you would do the honors, Captain. :: Jessa watches as the man releases the latch and lifts the lid. Inside lay a pair of rifles. Inlaid with the same material as the lid, the stocks of the guns virtually shimmer in the fluorescent lighting. :: Andromeda: We can not thank you enough, Captain. Responses? Andromeda: Now, if you would all follow me, it is time for a quick tour of our Capital. And perhaps, along the way, we can discuss a few issues. . . ((Meanwhile: Above the Planet )) :: Three Federation starships fly in perfect formation, hovering like giant gargoyles above the planet unaware of the object small than a few centimeters passing beneath their hulls. :: (( Bridge: Independence-A )) :: Jason Barnes sat at the Com. It would be another couple of hours yet before Beta shift would arrive. With Commander Riley in her quarters, the Admiral on the surface with the Second Officer, the shift had been extremely quiet. :: :: Glancing down at the terminal next to him, Jason continued scanning the Tactical Report from DS17. More than half a week old, it was still the latest information they had. The Independence wouldn't receive another until after they passed out from behind the Aurona Nebula. As he scanned, the lights began to flicker before winking out suddenly. :: :: Jason waited a moment for the emergency lighting to kick in. Nothing happened. Tapping his com. badge, he starts in surprise when it does not activate either. :: (( Elsewhere )) :: Tumbling through space, the small object flares suddenly before dimming to a soft glow. A signal is transmitted to three other points before the object once again flares to life and . . .vanishes. :: (( Ready Room of the Independence/ Ready room of the Ronin/ Science Labs of Ursa Major )) :: In a small case, several crystals begin to glow. An instant later, energy flows from them into their surroundings. Lights wink on and off as the flow continues. Long seconds pass as one after another systems shut down across all three Federation vessels. Within moments, the Independence, the Ronin, and the Ursa Major all float dead in space. :: :: Minutes pass as a distortion appears quickly before the ships. It swirls into existence growing in size until it is large enough to encompass the ships. In the blink of an eye, all three ships vanish through its event horizon, disappearing from Wheeler Colony. :: (( Wheeler )) :: In the Capital city, three Starfleet Officers sit in a hovercraft riding towards the site of the newly constructed water purification plant. The sun beats down, sending waves of heat into the air from the surface of the street. :: :: Above them, in the sky, a swirling hole suddenly appears. At first unnoticed, all eyes turn skyward as the hovercraft slows to a halt. All around them gasps and shouts of exciting ring through out the streets. Staring skyward, the three Captains watch in horror as three shining objects vanish in the blink of an eye. :: :: One by one each attempts to contact their ship, unsuccessful as the last. With a grim look, the Admiral turns to the Colonies leader. :: Anassasi: I apologize, Mr. Andromeda, but I think we need to modify our schedule to include a quick stop by your Communications building. :: The man still stares at the sky, stunned by what had just occurred. :: Andromeda: O-of Course Admiral. Responses? ((Elsewhere )) :: The three Federation vessels tumble through the wormhole before coming to a sudden halt. As the hole in space vanished, lights and systems return to normal. On the bridge of the Independence, a rather startled Operations officer taps his communicator. :: Barnes: =/\= Red Alert. All personnel report to their stations. Commander Riley to the Bridge. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. =/\= Responses? Barnes: =/\= Independence to the Ronin and Ursa Major. Red Alert. First Officers, report in ASAP. =/\= Ad. Jessa Anassasi CO, USS Independence-A