James T. Kolk
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Posts posted by James T. Kolk
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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.
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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.
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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
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(( 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. =/\=
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Lt. Jhen Thelev
Chief Operations Officer
USS Ronin
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((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
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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
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(( 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
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Perhaps not, Jhen, but you can try...
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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.
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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.
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I'll second that.
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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?"
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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.
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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
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Well, mine for one. I think there're others, but I don't know whose.
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She's the CoS. Of course, we know she exists. We depend on her to defend our home.
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This thread is for Elisa Verde's story, "Running Game."
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I couldn't sleep, so I finished my story. It's not quite the dream that inspired it, but that's more than okay. Enjoy.
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"Distant Haven"
by Jackford B. Kolk
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The USS Frontiersman drifted slowly toward the station. As they had done so many times before in so many other systems, the renegade Starfleet crew played "worthless heap of rubble" to slip in unnoticed. No one was interested in the tattered hulk of a war-torn Federation starship. Not after the way the Dominion had clearly bested them, wiping the Alpha and Beta Quadrants clean of all vestiges of the Federation, the Klingon Empire, and the Romulan Star Empire. Now, over 50 years later, Earth, Q'onos, and Romulus were completely dead, and very few even remembered what they had stood for. But Captain Sean Callaghan and his crew of four hundred and thirty seven did. They had fought hard to keep the dream alive, and suffered gravely for it. A generation after the fateful end of the conflict, their Galaxy class vessel had been patched up with alien parts more times than anyone cared to remember, and the outer hull looked like a quilt that had been worked on for generations. In a way, that's what it was. They had traveled to the outer reaches of the Alpha Quadrant seeking refuge from the Dominion. But everywhere they went, the shadow of the Dominion's power loomed. Until they reached the galactic rim. Somehow, it seemed the rim had escaped the interest of the Founders. Perhaps now they could find a home in which to rebuild a Federation-like society.
In the blackness that surrounded them, the unspeakably massive alien station loomed ominously. But the First Officer, Commander Mark Graystone, whose indomitable spirit was all that had kept the crew going at times, was sure this that was the place. After what felt like an eternity of drifting, the hulking vessel had finally found its way to the station's cavernous waste excretion port. With a few momentary bursts of the maneuvering jets and a split second tap on the impulse engine control, the Frontiersman was inside. After an hour more of gently gliding inside, the ship attached itself to the deck and the customary scouting party was preparing to disembark.
Forty-seven year-old Captain Callaghan led his party of four down the gantry and into the bowels of the station. Their EVA suits slowed their ascent, but the "Frontiersmen", as the crew called themselves, were well used to taking their time. Patience was what kept them alive most of the time. Patience and caution. They had learned long ago, that they could not risk announcing their presence to anyone. The Founders could be anywhere. Eventually, Callaghan's team reached a maintenance air-lock.
Beneath their EVA suits, the crew wore civilian clothing. A small party of plainly dressed humans rarely raised suspicions anymore. They found a storage room nearby and hid their suits in a corner behind some crates, then briefly used their tricorders to locate the station's equivalent of a turbolift that would take them to the upper levels where sensors had indicated a massive class-M environment with at least three cities.
The lift took the team to the downtown area of the capital city of the station. It was bustling with activity. Crowds of people milled about, taking care of the day's business. The population was mostly comprised of a human-looking species, so the team blended in easily, but surreptitious scans revealed a decidedly non-human internal physiology. There were also a number of alien species represented in small numbers, a few of which had been members of the Federation before its demise. Callaghan decided to observe the station's culture before attempting to make conspicuous contact with the authorities, so the group wandered toward the outskirts of the city. They heard general discussions about station business, couples making plans for the evening, and vendors peddling their merchandise. It seemed a dream, exactly the type of place they'd hope to create, if they ever found a safe haven in which to do so.
As they approached a more residential area, they came across a schoolyard full of small children being taught a lesson on plant life and the ecosystem of the station. When they were a far enough distance away from the school, the Captain stopped them.
"Mark, what do you think?"
Commander Graystone smiled. "I think we've found Haven, Sir."
The Frontiersman[i/]'s Security Chief, Lieutenant Trance Sacho, scowled, as usual. "If they'll have us. Even if this isn't a Dominion trap, why would these people want to suddenly incorporate four hundred and forty aliens into their population?" She was never one to look on the bright side, especially since her husband's death 6 months ago in their last brush with a Jem-Hadar scoutship.
Chief Medical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Jane Vasco, objected to the Lieutenant's scepticism. "We haven't seen or heard anything about the Founders or the Jem-Hadar in weeks, Lieutenant. And this community is clearly not unaccustomed to welcoming refugees. I saw a few Bolians, Vulcans... even a Betazoid in the city center."
"I say we find whoever is in charge and ask for asylum, Captain," Graystone said. "The crew has wondered enough."
Captain Sean Callaghan turned away from his officers, taking in the quite beauty of the place. The schoolyard was nestled next to a small park, surrounded by alien-looking, but still recognizable, homes for small families. He and his wife had dreamt of a place like this for years. Turning back to his people, his voice was resolute, but Commander Graystone sensed the tiniest twinge of meloncholy in it. "I agree."
The group made their way, casually, back into the heart of the city, and Callaghan's First Officer looked for an opportunity to ask his Captain about the meloncholy he had noted. As they rounded a corner and the two were slightly further from the woman, Mark softly asked, "What it is, Sir?"
Callaghan smiled. He realized he'd almost expected the question. "Oh, nothing. I just realized I'm going to miss the ship."
Graystone looked at the older man thoughtfully. "I'm sure we all will, Sir. It was our home."
Keeping his eyes straight ahead, the older man simply said, "I think it's time you started calling me 'Sean'."
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Well, one could presume that, but then wouldn't Toni put a "Work in Progress" thingy on it? Besides, it seemed finished when I read it...
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Excellent story, Toni. But, uh, you might want to mark it as completed so it can be counted in the competition.
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Or not. We have another contestant...
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Speaking of half asleep, I finally got a workable idea in the form of a dream last night. Now I just have to remember what it was...
[2008: MAR-APR] Writing Challenge Discussion
in 2008
Posted
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.