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Marine Captain Llewelyn

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Everything posted by Marine Captain Llewelyn

  1. Congrats Thelev, and thanks for the kind words. I just wish that we were able to get feedback from the judges, but given how long it took to get a decision I won't be holding my breath. I'm just hoping that Admiral Wolf won't cancel future competitions as next to simming, the writing competitions are my favorite activity in the UFOP and I promote them as a way of enticing other trek writers to consider checking us out. If we do get to continue having the competition I'm sure you will make a great judge...
  2. We Celts... The Scots and Irish and Welsh and Cornish... and primarilly "We" do it while watching any national match in Footy or Rugby against the English National team... Certainly not in ordinary social settings, unless we are in a Pub, and no self respecting Irish. Scot, Welshman would be caught dead in an English pub, though the poor Cornish, by virtue of the fact that Cornwall is considered part of England might be forced to...
  3. You just described my perfect Saturday night... minus the sheep. We prefer to scream obscenities at the English...
  4. Wow, I have no IDEA what any of that means, which means I should steal it and incorporate it into Llewelyns sims, isn't it? My sources tell me that one or more of the judges are not available right now. We need someone to step up, but of course those of us who might be so inclined are all entered... Oh and nice banner, where can I get one of those?????????? It means that filibuster was spelled wrong, and to filibuster means to delay, not speed up the process. And once again the inadequacies of the English language to make any sense whatsoever are illustrated. If I followed the same spelling exception with the world Illustrated as you did with Filibuster it would be spelled Ilustrated... Stupid Sais language! There is difficult it is to know which one of the convoluted rules and exceptions one is supposed to adhere to, is it. Cymru am byth!
  5. Wow, I have no IDEA what any of that means, which means I should steal it and incorporate it into Llewelyns sims, isn't it? My sources tell me that one or more of the judges are not available right now. We need someone to step up, but of course those of us who might be so inclined are all entered... Oh and nice banner, where can I get one of those??????????
  6. A Sais who claims to be British, whodathunk it? lol. And that's okay, you don't really think that the Scots gave the Crown the ACTUAL Stone of Scone do you? But as long as we can laugh and smile while we discuss these things, there's no need to throw rocks...lol Cymru am byth! Alba go Bragh! Erin Go Bragh! and the rest of them can just yell their own slogans because I don't know them.... STILL WAITING JUDGES! Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster * deep breath* Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster Fillibuster * fingers cramping* Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!Prod, Prod, Poke!
  7. Is it and isn't it are used almost indistinguishibly, much the same way that Americans end statements with a question, such as "you know what I'm saying?" or "You feel me"? or "you know?" or the brits like to say "yes?" or "eh wot?", (by Brits I mean the English, because no-one outside of the English ever claims to be a Brit, and the English like to play down the resurgence of Celtic nationalism within Britain by saying, we're all brits... whereas the peoples of the former Brythonic Celtic nation of Kernow, locked within the confines of England, is it? they say, I'm from Cornwall, or from Scotand I'm a Scot, or from Cymru, I'm Welsh or more properly Cymraeg. The one exception might be the "Northern Irish" which are really misguided transplanted Scottish presbyterians given lands in exchange for occupying and subjegating the republican minded revloutionaries of the late 1700's through today, consider themselves Brits, loyal subjects to the Crown of England, which would probably cause William Wallace and Robert the Bruce, not to mention Bonnie Prince Charlie to roll over in their graves...Ed. note...) or the Canuks like to say, "Eh?", or the Spanish like to say, "Entiendes?" and L is a nod to my heritage, which came to this country from Ireland and Wales, but being that my grandfather was from the Welsh side, isn't it? I ended up with the name Williams rather than MacMurrough, which is the Irish on my grandmother's side. Of course many Irish and Welsh settled in the south, though our family split on the Irish side right before the Civil War, with half going to the Dakota's and half left to face Sherman, who's statue I booed loudly while touring the nation's captial last year I am proud to say. I live in California yes, but believe me I hate almost everything about it politically and economically. We have the highest prices in the nation, aside from the state of my birth which is Hawaii, and the highest taxes, and yet we are broke. We have a republicrat governor, who even if he channeled the Terminator and Conan was no match for the lobby groups which run this state like Tamany hall, (at least we Irish were good at more than growing potatoes...). So Llewelyn represents my dream of rejecting homogenaity and he is the descendant of people who left the political correctness and mish mash melding of the Federation to preserve Celtic heritage and culture. That is why I include very distinct speech patterns for him, as noted in such phrases as There is good, by my way of thinking though none to loudly, is it? Now imagine that line being read by john Rhys davies, and you pretty much have nailed Llewelyn's timbre... And while some may say, HEY this isn't a place to put treatises on obscure triva and linguistical derivations, I concur with the previous two persons and say, hey, we don't have anything ELSE to read because we are still waiting for the reviews. I think we should fillibuster and just post random silliness until they are sufficiently prodded, *poke poke*
  8. My sources in Starfleet Intel have it on good authority that Rocar, Aitmen and DeMarc have been tapped... and is it really necessary to call Captain Taboo a has been? Surely a Captain deserves more respect...Tsk Tsk Tsk... ::Ducking for cover::
  9. While I am gratified to have my post entitled "the Alamo" put forward for consideration, in the interest of being fair, the post does contain at least one open dialog tag, and is therefore inelligible under the rules. I wanted to bring this to the attention of the moderator and respectfully ask that it be removed from consideration, as I do not want any potential votes that could determine the winner for this round to be discarded because of the post's disqualification. I will not re-submit it, but if Boby wishes to, there was a subsequent post that I believe included all tags... Respectfully,
  10. Holy Frak! Okay, I have to say it. Although I am humbled and honored to have two of my posts nominated in this round, the rules clearly state that you should vote for the post you feel is the best, and I have to say, THIS ONE IS GOING TO GET MY FRAKKING VOTE! Excquisite and delicious torture! Yes! Yes! Yes! That is how you do it! As the writer of a Marine character myself, a Marine also recently involved in a painfully tortuous roller coaster of a romance with a Vulcan human hybrid, I SO TOTALLY GET THIS STORYLINE! The misteps, the misunderstandings, the logic trumping the uncertainty of dealing with the very real raw emotions, the jealousy of a misinterpreted situation, the inevitable imposition of a cold wall shielding the Vulcan from facing her deep and conflicted feelings of insecurity rather than risking the vulnerability that might have equally great rewards, the tough Marine, doing his best to keep up his defenses, willing to face death on a thousand different battlefields than face his own feelings of vulnerability in the face of the one person who can kill him with a look, wound him far deeper with a word than the razor sharp claws of a Gorn ever could, the spark of what was or could be that breaks through the death wish that every Marine must face at one time or another, because they have become death, the destroyer of worlds, the deep desire to find in the arms of another that one refuge that would allow him to be just a man, a haven where he can lay aside the trappings of war that he not only wears upon his body but encase his very soul... Frakkin Aye, that is good writing! The best part, the most delicious aspect is evidenced in the writer's understanding that it is not the payoff that makes for a great romantic story arc, but the maintenance of the TENSION. THAT IS THE HALLMARK OF ALL GOOD DRAMA. Its straight out of the UCLA screenwriting class curriculum! Will they, won't they... hours of tension, anticipation, the opportunity is there, the sexual tension so thick you can cut it with a knife and then, WHAMMO! NO PAYOFF! Tune in next week. Pure cliffhanger, leaving one's mind wracked with an overwhelming desire to read more... Bravo! Where others might give in to the temptation to have their characters engage in whirlwind romances, and bodice ripping pg13 love scenes, these writers are going to make the readers EARN it. In for a penny, in for a pound. While there is certainly something to be said for bodice ripping, the payoff is going to be so much more satisfying for having endured the journey through the eyes of the protagonists as we see layer upon layer of who they are as characters revealed along the way... Really Top notch stuff...
  11. *whispering so as not to lose a fan* Thanks for the clarification...
  12. Thank you for the definition, Boby..., but my point was more with the word "queen", which has a bit of slang to it as well, though I think I can see where you got the whole idea based upon Llewelyn's personalilty not his sexual preference, which I can assure you is hopelessly hetero... And I really appreciate the kind words...
  13. Thanks, Boby...um, though usually being called a drama "queen" would not be something I would be comfortable with, but I appreciate the spirit in which I believe it was offered...(all I will admit to is a little literary "cross dressing" in that my second major character is a female... ). Also, I wasn't going to respond to the language critique, but I appreciate you "having my back" on that. Since the subject has been broached twice now, I will offer a small explanation. The Marines are a bit of an anachronism, or throwback to a more primative and less flowery way of doing things. As a former member of the military I can tell you that f-bombs are as common as periods at the ends of sentances and in fact are often used as punctuation themselves. Additionally, if you ever watch the BBC, the F word gets common play, provided its used as an adverb or adjective, but never in its four letter form, so... the fact that Llewelyn is descended from Welsh expatriate colonists, culturally he wouldn't consider the language to be anything to much bat an eye at, but 'nuff said about that...
  14. I'm in. But what a challenging topic... got a couple of ideas kicking around, but no set direction yet. Looking forward to it though!
  15. I was a little confused by the format, as it asked for add'l information but I was unclear on what that meant. Please consider the title "When I come home" and the Writer's primary character to be Ensign Brenna Parker, USS Challenger
  16. ((Sickbay, USS Challenger)) ::Llewelyn tried to get up, to move to comfort the young security team member, but was unable to rise. With a loud sigh he slumped backwards, where he was caught by Gomez.:: Parker: Lieutenant! ::She rushed to the fallen Marine, checking his pulse with two fingers as the other fumbled for her tricorder.:: Gomez: I think he's just exhausted, Doc. In fact we all are. Llewelyn: ::eyelids fluttering:: Ohhhh, I feel:: suddenly he lurched sideways and puked, then let out a loud "aarrrggggghhhhhh! " as he shook to clear his head. There was blood mixed with his vomit, bright red. Wiping his mouth with his hand, he looked around in a stupor then fell back again and started convulsing. Eritia: Jesus, Doc! What's wrong with him? Parker: ::instead of answering:: Get his armor off! ::She dashed a hypospray into a canister, emptying the contents into Llewelyn's neck to knock him out.:: He's got a broken rib, at the very least, and it's probably tangoing around in there causing damage with every convulsion. Be careful! ::The Marines closest to Llewelyn began pulling his Kevlat body suit off as fast as they could, revealing a dark purplish stain spreading under Llewelyn's skin on his abdomen. Brenna ran her tricorder down his length, noting the damage.:: Parker: He needs oxygen, get me a blood-oxygen infuser! ::She placed the device on his carotid artery after the nurse hurriedly brought it.:: Gomez: Doc, is that internal bleeding? Jeeezus, did anyone see him take a hit? :: He stepped away from the bio bed to give the med teams access. Eritia: His chest plate is, oh @#$! yeah, he took a hit alright.::He said holding up the chest protector which had a slight indentation to its surface with microfractures radiating out from it.. it was almost invisible from all of the grime and smoke damage.:: There's a three inch intrusion on the back side. Oh [...], how did we miss that?! Parker: ::while still working:: How did HE miss that?! Stupid-- ::The ship shook, throwing Brenna against the side of the biobed. She gritted her teeth and stubbornly attempted to anchor her feet to the floor, but her light body had little grounding against the shudders of the ship.:: Parker: ::muttering to herself:: Hard enough to do this standing still, guess they figured I needed a challenge... . ::really, the fact that Llewelyn was the patient was enough of a challenge. Brenna was second-guessing herself every step of the way, and it had to stop. Though simply telling herself that did very little good.:: Dak: The stubborn SOB! Probably just thought it was a bruise or something. $#!+! Thiessen: Must have been a concussive blast from one of the grenades, but I can't figure why the chest protector didn't ablate! Parker: ::working quickly:: No time for that now. It looks like his rib has perforated his left lung -- he's bleeding into it. We need to stop the bleeding. Nurse-- ::she began, but Llewelyn began coughing, splattering blood with every attempt at a breath.:: Med Tech: He's aspirating!: : to the nearest marine:: Help me roll him! ::The Marine practically pulled him over on his right side with one arm as the med tech began suctioning out Llewelyn's airway. Suddenly there came a loud beeping...:: Med Tech: He's coding! Going into V-tac! Parker: Cardiostimulator! ::As she spoke, all went dark and red around them.:: Computer: All hands, abandon ship. All hands, abandon ship. Parker: You've got to be frakin' kidding me. ::The words just slipped out of her normally mild mouth, as he hands paused over Llewelyn's body. The Marines watched her expectantly. :: Go on, you heard! Abandon ship! ::They didn't budge.:: Gomez: Will all respect to you, ma'am, we ain't leaving him. ::Brenna's mouth went tight, and mumblings that contained the words 'stubborn' '[...]ned' and 'Marines' came into play rather clearly. Coming from the side, she could hear Jerry Reid's voice booming at the nurses as they scrambled about, triaging patients to the pods. Reid came around the corner and nodded to Brenna to continue her work, as he continued to order the evacuation. Relief was stark in her mind at this turn of events -- she had known she wasn't supposed to stay with him, but Reid's timing and support would allow her to continue for as long as she could.:: ::She pressed the round, metal object against Llewelyn's chest, continuing to try to scram the Marines waiting around his bedside.:: Parker: Look, this is a triage situation. The worst wounded are the last out, and that's definitely your Lieutenant. ::With a gasp, Llewelyn's heart started up again. Brenna almost gasped herself, having convinced herself it wasn't going to work. Throwing the cardiostimulator aside, she began her tricorder scan anew.:: Dak: ::injured himself:: Then we'll stay with him until you're ready to take him out. Eritia: You're not going to leave him here. ::Brenna looked from one to the other, across the faces of all the Marines. Their expectations were clear, and their faces revealed that they would do exactly as Dak had stated.:: Parker: Look, without immediate treatment, he's going to die, but the procedure will take longer than we have aboard this ship! There's no way I can-- ::She faltered as her eyes dropped to Llewelyn's face. Torn up and scarred as it was, it had held a tenderness for her before, and she couldn't help but see it in the lines of his face. When she looked back up, determination was the only readable expression on her face.:: Parker: Okay, here's what we're going to do. I need a statis field from the morgue. I need an emergency cot. I need a blood plasma generator for ::she checked Llewelyn's tags:: A+ blood. ::As the Marines ran off double-time on their assignments, Brenna injected Llewelyn with a [...]tail of drugs, including dexalin, hyperzine, inaprovaline, and purvalin, to begin the statis process in his cells.:: Parker: ::softly, as Eritia came running back with the statis generator.:: Hang on, Llewelyn. ::With the strength common to Marines, Llewelyn was quickly loaded on the cot as Brenna activated the statis generator. A blue shield sprang up, swirling not unlike that of a bubble about to pop.:: Parker: This field isn't meant for transport, so try not to jolt it, okay? This way. ::She led them down the corridor to the special pod designed for medical trauma victims. Supervising as they slowly lowered Llewelyn inside, Brenna checked the field again to make sure it was stable, then rummaged around the lifeboard (which could become a coldly ironic name if she couldn't save the Marine inside) to make sure the supplies she needed were there. The Marines started to enter as well, but Brenna halted them with a gesture.:: Parker: The Med Tech can come, ::she looked at the Marines, realizing one was still somewhat seriously injured:: and Dak. The rest of you will just get in my way. ::It was blunt, but it was true.:: Go! ::There was a moment of hesitation from those assembled, and Brenna's voice turned from the exasperation she was feeling to the heartfelt words she needed to express.:: I won't let him die. ::She saw them accept this, then turned drill sergeant on them:: Now, you won't be much good to him when he recovers unless you get off this [...] boat! Go! ::Finally, they scrambled. Brenna breathed out a sigh of relief and closed the door of the pod, punching the button for takeoff. The pod automatically jetted out from the damaged ship, firing until it was far enough away should the Challenger explode. Brenna watched for a moment as they drifted away from the ship, finding herself rather strangely at peace. From a distance, the Challenger seemed just as she had when Brenna had first arrived, noble, proud and aloof. Only now, she was crumbling.:: TBC: Ensign Brenna Parker Medical Officer USS Challenger, NCC-12886
  17. My rankings are in, and my feedback has been posted. It's been an honor and a pleasure to serve as a guest judge for this challenge. Good luck to all and Congrats when the winner is determined.
  18. A Vikings Call by Toni Turner Sweeping and epic, this story picks up the reader and plops them down smack dab in the middle of...well, I wasn't really sure where, or when, but I could definitely tell it was a desperately pitched battle. I was confused, wondering if this were a holosimulation, an actual battle, or a dream/ hallucination. Jem H'dar with swords? Something to do with Vikings? I wanted to care more about the protagonist, to understand the internal dialog that seemed to be the culmination of some process of self discovery, and that was a bit dissapointing. The fact that I wanted this information however is testament to the story's ability to draw me into the conflict, to almost hear the clashing din of battle. The well conveyed desperation of the struggle and resolute bravery of the protagonist against seemingly impossible odds, however, made this a memorable and almost surreal literary journey. Nice work.
  19. Only One Constant by Nemitor Well constructed "slice of life"/ lower decks type of narrative. I did find myself wondering if we were in a bar prior to the Federation's founding, was the treaty with "fill in the blank", etc. and that was a bit dissapointing. Although it became clear that we were in the Federation later, I would like to have known when and what the treaty in question was about. and was sometimes confused as to who was carrying on the conversation with the protagonist. Having said that, I really appreciated the fact that Federation citizens aren't a homogenized, two dimensional construct in this story. The commentary about the costs of life in the Federation beyond monetary comparisons really struck home because too often on screen the Federation citizen seems oblivious to the sacrifices that those individuals outside of their immediate sphere of influence have to make to maintain the standard of living for the greater society as a whole. The ending left me wanting to know more, but that's not a bad thing, as it leaves the protagonist's identity for each reader to determine for themselves. Good Job.
  20. Reptillian Twins, by Greekle I have to say at the outset that this story roped me in from the beginning. Where are we? What are we doing here? That was a little hard to get a handle on at first, along with getting my head around just what a "mentor" was, but as the story progressed it unfolded in a logical and thought provoking way. I honestly did not see the twist coming at the end and it left me floored. I kind of got the overall situation, but rather than being the kind of story I initially was thinking it was, I found myself charmed by the interaction between the protagonist and the innocent but potentially menacing antagonists. This story struck a chord because of its time honored Star Trek tradition of social commentary, but its delivery was neither preachy nor accusatory. Although the subject matter is bound to be controversial, the ending packed a punch that endured without political or social overtones. Very nicely done.
  21. A couple of questions... Nemitor's entry appears to have been submitted late, but he does have the finished icon with it. Unfortunately it seems inelligible due to the date stamp. Also there are a couple of other entries without the finished icon. What is the status of these stories and when do we start the judging?
  22. V’GER’s Children Iolo Madoc Llewelyn Stardate 238509.25, Sector 001, Earth, San Francisco, Starfleet Command Linus Trafalgar, Lt.(jg) cursed himself for not stopping for a double raktajino on his way to Starfleet Command’s Borg Task Force briefing. He’d been up most of the night checking and cross checking his data, and was sure that today he would rewrite history; so much so that he had been unable to get more than an hour or so worth of fitful sleep prior to his presentation this morning. His topic was titled “The Socio-economics of the Borg Collective”; an inquiry borne out of a crucial need to understand the nefarious enemy’s motivations and cultural underpinnings. Linus had done his due diligence, but in the process he’d uncovered a secret so dark and explosive that, if true, was certain to rock not only the Starfleet, but the Federation to its core. The idea both invigorated him and terrified him at the same time. Arriving at the conference room he found an aide was waiting to take him in. His hands sweated as he made his way past some of the most powerful officers in the Starfleet. Reaching the dais, he took a sip of water and began. “At first blush, the concept of economics in relation to the Borg Collective might seem ludicrous.” Gauging from the reactions of the assembled, Linus concluded that they probably agreed with his opening statement. He forced a smile, and continued. “It must be noted, however, that economics is not merely the transference of monies from one segment of society to another, but rather an exercise in resource re-distribution and allocation. In some respects then, it can be postulated that the Borg and the Federation systems are similar in many respects. Both are truly “socio-economic” in nature.” Linus could hear murmurs amongst the audience, and they were sounding less than supportive. “Take for example the very nature of Borg society.”, he rejoined quickly. “It is a collective. The individual counts for nothing other than to serve as a conduit to promote the greater good of the Borg. This concept is not so different from the communitarian ideal espoused by the Federation. In fact, it could be viewed as a logical extension of it, taken to tragic extremes. On the one hand, if viewed from the context of morality as it is practiced throughout the Federation, the Borg are as exploitative and ruthless as any civilization we have encountered to this present day. On the other hand, if viewed dispassionately, as the Borg are wont to do, the Borg ideal is perversely the most self sacrificing and communalistic society ever created. For all of the Federation’s attempts to create a cohesive culture, its attempts are hampered by its very nature. The Federation’s heterogeneous make up demands that consensus rather than convergence be the vehicle for formulating a stable society. This should not be seen as an apologetic in favor of the Borg, but rather as an observation of what they have accomplished through their single mindedness.” The murmurs continued, however at this assertion Linus sensed that he’d scored some points. Taking another sip of water, he pressed the concept. “While it can be argued that the masses of assimilated drones that make up the collective are not what we in the Federation would consider to be ‘happy’, neither can it be said that they are ‘unhappy’. In fact, one of the greatest accomplishments of any society is inclusiveness. Before the current system came into being within the Federation, there were times of great despair following the Third World War on Earth. Millions of people were displaced, forced to eke out meager existences seemingly devoid of purpose and meaning. Following First Contact with the Vulcans, the human race was introduced to a larger view of their place in the cosmos, and this in turn fueled great optimism and hope for the future. This coming together of the human race, truly united for the first time in history as “Earthlings”, sparked a renaissance of ingenuity that gave birth to the Federation itself. The Borg, on the other hand, arrived at our celestial shores with an already established homogeneity and purposeful existence. For a Borg, there is no higher purpose than being useful. There is no impediment of ego to hamper the greater good; no end to the amount of selfless servitude that they are willing to render to the collective. And although it can be argued that the Borg are not truly happy, as we have come to understand the concept, it is a fact that the few drones that have been ‘liberated’ from the collective have often undergone extreme discomfiture, even depression and despair after being severed from the ‘hive-mind’ that connects each drone to the larger whole that is Borg society. The reason for this is understandable, since one of the ‘meta-needs’ that seems to be crucial to the psychological well being of virtually all humanoid species is that of affiliation.” Linus paused, and took a deep breath, knowing that the next few minutes would make or break his career. He fought the urge to stop there, knowing that he was about to walk a razor’s edge. He glanced at his PADD for a minute, but only as a delaying tactic. Having come this far, he decided to go for it. “One could therefore make the point that the Borg ‘economic model’ is far superior to our own.” The room erupted in outrage for several minutes until order could be restored. “Please, distinguished officers, hear me out.”, Linus implored. “Each drone is a worker. Each worker is infused, literally and figuratively, with a purpose. Each drone knows that whatever their purpose, it is important with regard to maintaining and promoting the greater good of the Collective. Each drone is equipped, literally, for their particular task. No expense is spared, and yet, in the absence of need, none is wasted either. The Borg are perfectly in sync with each other, and need neither thanks nor the inducement of punishment in order to elicit the most efficient performance of their given tasks. Thus, in a very real sense, apart from the Q Continuum, the Borg are the most efficient economy in the galaxy. While it is true that their habit of forcibly taking what they want is abhorrent to Federation sensibilities, in a perverse way, they are the most inclusive society that we know of in existence. Consider the fact that the Borg neither hate nor love, but rather seek to assimilate as much knowledge and technology as possible. In an odd way, they seek to liberate us from our own inefficiencies and lack of a cohesive existence. In assimilating the various races they come in contact with they are seeking to better the races that they conquer, according to their own philosophy. They take what they find and re-allocate it in the most efficient and single-minded way possible.” “Maybe you think we should just let them assimilate us then? You sound like you admire the butchers!” an Admiral interrupted. “N-no, no sir.”, Linus stammered. “I’m simply pointing out one of their motivations. The first rule of warfare is to understand your enemy. Thus far we’ve described their tactics, conjectured over their hive mind, but we have demonized them to such a degree that we’ve completely missed the point of who and what they are. They strive for perfection. They are innovative. They assimilate other technologies and adapt them to their own. They study other cultures and seek to better their efficiency by utilizing information gained from diverse approaches to a given task. They are united in purpose. They are totally selfless. They are more communitarian than the most strident communitarian advocates the Federation has ever produced, more logical than the most logical of Vulcans, more fearless than the Klingon Empire’s greatest warriors, and more resourceful than the shrewdest Ferengi. And why is this the case? Can anyone here in this room hazard a guess to that most fundamental question? With all due respect, can you answer that question Admiral?” The entire conference room sat in stunned silence, unable to answer the suddenly brash lieutenant who just minutes before had been simply regarded as nothing more than another milquetoast analyst by most. A Vulcan ambassador broke the tension. “While the young lieutenant may be faulted somewhat on his manners, I find his line of reasoning to be logical, to a point. I trust, lieutenant that you have an explanation? I for one am interested in hearing it. Please continue….” Vulcans never threatened, bullied or intimidated, but something in the ambassador’s intonation of the word “trust” made it clear that his explanation had better be spectacular. “Thank you, Ambassador… Sulat, is it? And to the Admiral I mean no disrespect…” “Get on with it, lieutenant…”, the Admiral growled. “Ummm, yes sir. There are two explanations, actually. One based in fact, and one based in conjecture. The first explanation as to why they represent a superior socio-economic model is straight forward: because they are the ultimate expression of what we can become. Now, before we get upset again, please note that I said can become, not should become. But the fact remains that their infinite diversity in infinite combinations, put to a singular purpose is the ultimate expression of resource management that the Federation has ever encountered. At best, the Federation is an example of what the 20th Century Earth astrophysicist Nicolai Kardashev would have called a Type II civilization. 21st Century Earth theoretical physicist Dr. Michio Kaku postulated that a Type II civilization would be characterized by the use of anti-matter propulsion, the ability to harness the energy output equivalent of a star, and the colonization of a tiny fraction of the near-by stars relative to their galactic location. In comparison, the Borg seem to fit Dr. Kaku’s definition of a Type III civilization, in that their assimilation and subsequent colonization efforts span the Milky Way Galaxy, making them capable of extracting the energy output of hundreds of billions of stars, and allowing them to utilize Planck energy propulsion. By definition, Type III civilizations are thought to be at least a hundred thousand years more advanced than Type II civilizations. This may explain why the Borg are so indifferent to the pain and suffering that they inflict upon those they come into contact with. To a Type III civilization, all lesser civilizations are about as significant as an insect would be to a sentient humanoid.” “So now the Federation is as insignificant as a nest of ants?” the blustery Admiral scoffed. Again the Vulcan ambassador intervened. “What he is saying, Admiral, is logical. Although it may be injurious to the egos of some of the Federation’s more emotional elements, I believe the comparison to be accurate. Please continue, lieutenant.” “Thank you, Ambassador. Perhaps the Admiral will feel better when I explain that it is my belief that the reason for their success, and Admiral this ties directly into the second explanation of why they are more communitarian, more logical, more brave and more resourceful than we are in comparison… the reason for this success lies in the truth that the Borg, in assimilating persons from virtually every species in the alpha quadrant and beyond have literally become more of ‘us’ than we are ourselves.” Linus was on a roll now, and he could tell that this last point had shifted the momentum towards his end of the table. Glancing at his PADD, he decided that now that he had made a connection with his audience, he could go “off script” and speak from his deepest understanding, rather than relying on cold statistics and well constructed sentences. “Consider the facts. They have incorporated our mindsets and our various philosophies and boiled them down into a cohesive and extremely pragmatic extension of all of them.” He paused for a moment to let that sink in, and to ask himself if he really wanted to let the other shoe drop. Sensing his hesitation, the Vulcan ambassador prompted him. “You mentioned two explanations lieutenant. Pray tell what is the second?” “Yes, Ambassador. I hesitate to put it forth, as I’m sure its going to be even more controversial, but it is my belief, based upon three years of research that the most profound reason why they are more ‘us’ than we are ourselves is because they may very well be our children. Figuratively and literally.” The room erupted in disagreement once more and the Admiral looked absolutely apoplectic. Linus had reached the crux of his argument and now committed himself fully to driving the point home, regardless of the cost. “It would be much more comforting to think of the Borg as monsters, just another rogue humanoid species from some far flung part of the galaxy. I understand the comfort in that, but what if the very core of who they are had its genesis in who we are. What if they represent literally the evolutionary and historical legacy and inheritance of our very own societies? This is a very unsettling notion I understand. I ask only for your consideration in hearing what I’ve gleaned from several recently de-classified Starfleet documents.” The room settled down, and Linus took a large sip of water to soothe his dry mouth and throat. Picking up his PADD again, he laid the evidence for his assertion before the stunned crowd. “In the late 23rd century, an enormous probe entered the Alpha quadrant from parts unknown. It made its way through the galaxy, coming to our attention only after destroying first a squadron of Klingon warships, then a Federation outpost. It was quickly determined to be on an intercept course straight for Sector 001, Earth. The Starship Enterprise, scheduled for a retrofit shakedown, and manned with a crew made up primarily of cadets from Starfleet Academy was called into active duty under the command of the famous Admiral James T. Kirk. When the Enterprise made contact with the probe an energy beam from the probe materialized on the bridge and, by means unknown, proceeded to scan a Deltan crew member, Ilea, out of existence, killing her. The probe then later re-manifested itself by taking the form of Ilea’s physical likeness, and through that representation identified the probe as V’ger. V’ger was, she reported, on a quest to find its maker. I take it you are all familiar with this part of the story?” The crowd nodded and some indicated their familiarity through verbal acknowledgement. “Very well then. A Vulcan science officer by the name of Commander Spock, a name familiar to many owing to his diplomatic work with the Romulans, is reported to have taken a space walk in an attempt to “mind meld” with V’ger. According to our reports the attempt nearly killed him. He did survive, however, and reported that he had been shown a vast array of worlds the probe had visited; worlds consisting of thinking machines. This is a crucial point to understand, imagine an entirely cybernetic civilization that we have even yet to encounter. And what do we know about V’ger? In the end, it was discovered that V’ger was in fact one of the Voyager spacecraft launched from Earth in the late 20th century. Incredibly, it had drifted through space and by means unknown traveled in a few hundred years to the far reaches of the galaxy. Upon its arrival it had apparently been discovered by a race of machines who repaired it and sent it on a return voyage to Earth. The fact that V’ger was able to return to Sector 001 in such a short amount of time indicates the probability that the civilization it encountered on the other side of the galaxy was most likely of the Type III variety. Upon arriving at Earth V’ger desperately wanted to merge with its maker, a human, and Commander William Decker, who had been romantically linked with Ilea, volunteered to undergo the procedure. It appears that Commander Decker’s body was assimilated by V’ger in a manner similar to that which had taken Ilea, and the probe departed, never to be seen again. Conclusions? Perhaps more questions are in order. Is it a coincidence that the Borg, like V’ger, make a habit of assimilating entire worlds for the purposes of gaining knowledge? Is it a coincidence that the Borg possess Type III civilization capabilities fused with a social structure that is the logical extension of not only Federation communitarianism, but of Vulcan logic, and a dedication to infinite diversity in infinite combinations within its society? Is it a coincidence that the Borg seek to continue the merging of life with machine in the hopes of attaining perfection? And lastly, though the Borg were accelerated into the Alpha Quadrant by a capricious act of the mysterious entity known as Q, is it a coincidence that they were already headed our direction on a direct path towards Sector 001? Perhaps. But, paradoxical as it might appear at first glance, there is evidence to suggest that the reason that the Borg socio-economic model resembles the Federation’s taken to the “Nth” degree is because it originated with us in the first place. It is my contention that V’ger, upon returning to whatever corner of the galaxy it had resided in for so many years fundamentally changed the society that had repaired it, prompting the development of a hybridized civilization combining biological and cybernetic components into the progenitors of what we call the Borg. Even the name Borg is a hyphenation of the word cyborg.” The hall was silent. For a few tense moments not a word was said. Then, surprisingly, Linus’ greatest critic, the gruff Admiral rose to his feet. “Thank you lieutenant. I don’t know about the rest, but you’ve convinced me. Now, since you seem to be the expert, how the hell can we use this information?” Linus smiled, “Admiral, I’m glad you asked…”
  23. Thanks Toni, after reading your story I almost didn't enter this session. I was stumped until like two days before the deadline, and honestly thought I had no chance, but it worked out, so I'm very pleased. I really enjoyed reading all of the stories, even the quirky food fight and avante garde experimental theater ones which threw me at first.
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