Kalianna Nicholotti

You will be fine. Just remember that no matter what trouble you think you've run into, someone is there to help. =)

Even today, religion is a hot topic. I live in the deep south and I can say that even the mention of things like 'Godzilla' are shunned (because it has the word God in it). I'd wager to say that despite wanting to portray total equality across the board, there were still some major limitations well past the original series and into TNG and beyond. I actually wrote up a Writer's Workshop article about this occurrence not too long ago. If anyone's interested, you can find it here: http://www.starbase118.net/blog/2012/03/29/reality-buried-deep-within-science-fiction/

Which was a very good way of showing total respect and freedom of religion, as well as equality, without alienating the ideals of the viewers at the time. =)

((SB118 - Brek's Quarters)) ::Brek stood in front of his replicator, wondering what to have for breakfast. He had hoped that by putting his uniform on, he would feel `normal' again, but his appetite remained elusive. :: oO I ate so much last night... maybe I should stick to diet food today. What about the white thing that's supposed to be good for the microorganisms in the gut, but that looks like fresh guano? How do Human call it? Oo ::He ordered yogurt from the replicator and was sniffing suspiciously at it when there was not only a beep at the door, but also an insistent knock. The day was beginning in earnest, it seemed:: Brek: Come in. ::Dakarai appeared, in disarray and looking altogether different this morning. The black man examined the living area, which made Brek feel self conscious. These days it was looking more and more like a stockroom, although he preferred to think of it as a refined cabinet of curiosities, crammed with rare treasures.:: Brek: ::Delaying the moment where he would have to sample the yogurt.:: You are growing a beard, ensign? Dakarai: ::Touching his chin.:: Oh that, yes. My girlfriend likes it this way. When did you come back last night? ::When it became obvious that Brek wasn't going to answer, he went on: :: It has nothing to do with being intrusive Lt, it's just that Alice escaped during the night. The Acamarian Ambassador says someone must have opened her vivarium, allowing the spider to roam free. She is a rare breed apparently, black and red in colour. There will be trouble if something happens to her. Brek: ::Taking a spoonful of his `medicine' so as to look blasé.:: This spider... is it a dangerous species? Dakarai: Mildly. But I have been assured that we have all the antivenom we could need, if she ever bites. She has been described as being er... docile. ::His eyes darting everywhere.:: I take it you have not seen anything with eight legs recently? Brek: Nope. Four legs is the most I have encountered. Are these Acamarians insane? From this day, I don't want to see anymore dangerous creatures in the Embassies. This is a diplomatic building, not a zoo! Dakarai: Alice is a pet, it's different. She is, quoting the Ambassador, `cherished'. Brek: Nonsense! Do you think that if VIPs have a Nelephant for a pet they would be allowed to travel with it?! Dakarai: An Elephant. Brek: That's what I said. Dakarai: ::Suddenly motionless.:: Oh Mon Dieu! She is is here, over there, on your glassware! I hate araignées... er .... spiders! Anytime I see one, I want to step on it! Brek: ::Walking towards his display of fifth century Vulcan glasswork.:: It's not difficult to push your panic button, is it, Dakarai? How can someone as tall as you are, be afraid of such a small critter? Dakarai: ::With a shriek.:: Small? It's as big as my hand! ::He opened his right mitt for comparison.:: Brek: ::Now but a few centimeters away from the bug.:: Don't shout, you are going to scare it. ::He took a large tray on the shelf behind it, and trapped the spider under it. Due to the intricacies of the glass work, Alice looked even bigger now, or as Brek was thinking, more succulent.:: Brek: You had better tell the Acamarian Ambassador to fetch his pet right way. Spiders are a delicacy on Ferenginar. I don't know how long I'll be able to resist a snack. ::Dakarai looked at him with alarm and rushed away, apparently convinced that his chief would eat something that had a name. Amused by this concept, Brek sat down in front of Alice and finished his unsavory breakfast.:: ---------------------------------- Lt Brek Chief Diplomatic Officer SB118/USS Victory With Ensign J.B. Dakarai, Diplomatic Aide

Farewell, Evanna. =( (Not Aims, just Evanna =P )

Welcome to 118! =)

((Personal Quarters)) ::Kaedyn Zehn looked at himself in the mirror with a concerned frown. In his newly replicated uniform, with its black turtle neck on which his new rank was pinned, he felt even less like the old Kaedyn he had been before Joining than ever. This, he knew, was healthy since he no longer was the old Kaedyn but it was still disconcerting. The logic of an intelligence service highlighting it's officers with a distinct uniform colour was lost on him but perhaps it was a way of Starfleet Intelligence demonstrating how mainstream it was in comparison with the shadowy, nefarious intelligence agencies throughout the galaxy.:: ::With Eliaan still asleep, he quietly slipped out of their quarters and into the turbolift for what would be his first day in his new job. While excited at the prospect, he felt a knot of nerves in his stomach as the lift ascended to it's destination.:: ((Black Tower)) ::Arriving at the entrance to the command tower, which the station's intelligence department called home, Kaedyn took a deep breath. The Black Tower had gained a level of notoriety in the past, much of it based around events that he had not been authorised to know about and may never have actually happened for all he knew. Jilenna had spent some time there but as a marine counter-intel officer she was usually based with the other marines on the other side of the station.:: Computer: Access to this area is restricted. Authorisation required. Zehn: Authorisation Zehn Lamda-Three-Two-Black Computer: Authorisation accepted. ::The doors opened and despite the mental picture of secretive bunker that Kaedyn had always had of the area, it was just another Starfleet corridor and exactly as Jilenna had remembered it. In a large, deliberate step that seemed to mirror the metaphorical step in his life, he entered the Black Tower and the doors slid quietly closed behind him.:: ::Ahead of him, a young man dressed in the black uniform of intelligence and with a single pip denoting his rank, stood waiting. Was he waiting for him?:: Ensign: Lieutenant Zehn ::He said it so it wasn't clear whether it was a question or a statement and for a moment, Kaedyn didn't know quite how to respond. When he did, he carefully so that the response could be interpreted either as a confirmation, if it were a question and a question if it were a statement.:: Zehn: Yes Ensign: Commander Cornwell wishes to speak to you. ::The name sounded familiar but then after seven lifetimes of memories, a lot of names sounded familiar. He was due to be briefed on current intelligence status but surely Starfleet wouldn't send a Commander to brief a Lieutenant.:: Zehn: Sorry, who? Ensign: Commander Valerie Cornwell ::And from the depths of Zehn's memories, he immediately knew who she was...:: ~~Flashback: 2369~~ ((USS Indomitable)) ::Lieutenant Commander Reigan Zehn sat behind his desk, straight-backed and commanding, as the young Ensign entered his office. She looked, he noticed immediately, terrified in the way that all new ensigns looked on their first day of duty. Another chief might try to make her feel more at ease or pretend to be her friend but he had other ideas. Now, he believed, was the best opportunity to take a promising officer and mold her into his image of a good security officer.:: Zehn (Reigan): Ensign Valerie Cornwell service number four three two dash five five six dash seven one three. Class of 69. Graduated with honours, a major in Security and a minor in Operations. ::Standing at attention, she looked vaguely unsure as to whether to respond.:: Cornwell: Sir, that's me. Sir. Zehn (Reigan): You didn't want to minor in Tactical? Most of the ensigns who major in security minor in tactical, and vice versa. Cornwell: No, Sir. I did not. Zehn (Reigan): Why not? Please, you may speak freely. ::She remained at attention.:: Cornwell: I am not interested in combat, sir. Most tactical officers are glory hunters, in my experience, Sir. I felt operations would give me a better understanding of Starships, which would help my role as a security officer. ::A small smile crossed the Trill's face, a rare occurrence when he was on duty.:: Zehn (Reigan): Very good, Ensign. I am a Security/Operations graduate myself, for the very same reason. ::He indicated that she may sit down across from him and she did so, although she remained rigidly upright.:: Zehn (Reigan): I have reviewed your Academy record, Ensign Cornwell and I was sufficiently impressed to request you for my department. Cornwell: Thank you, Commander. I appreciate that. Zehn (Reigan): You have done well learning the theory of being a security officer. I will now teach you the practice. ~~End Flashback~~ ((Black Tower)) Zehn: Commander Cornwell ::As he stepped into the temporary office, which indicated that Valerie Cornwell was not permanently assigned to the Starbase, he spotted the woman he had known so well two lifetimes before. Her hair was longer now and greying, where it had once been almost black, but the face was more or less the same. She smiled and waved him in.:: Cornwell: Come in, Kaedyn. It's great to meet you, well not exactly meet you but you know what I mean. Zehn: I do, Commander. It's been... a long time. ::They had last met, or rather Reigan and Cornwell had last met, not too long before his death at the Second Battle of Chin'toka during the Dominion War. She had written to Jilenna several times but they had never actually met. Somehow, despite the fact that Zehn had experienced the death of two hosts, Cornwell looked as thought she had suffered through a more difficult time. She seemed weary and tired.:: Cornwell: I was sorry to hear about Jilenna Zehn: Yeah, it was a tragic accident... Cornwell: But, now, here you are. I must say, your new host is very attractive, if I were only twenty years younger... ::It was common, Kaedyn knew, for non-Trill to speak in such terms. It was almost as if they believed, given the nature of Joined Trill, that the host was little more than a shell, an outfit that could be changed.:: Zehn: You have barely changed since the day we first met, Commander. ::She eyed him with good humoured suspicion.:: Cornwell: Nonsense. I keep getting older and you keep getting younger... Boss. ~~Flashback: 2369~~ ((USS Indomitable)) ::Reigan Zehn stood outside his office. He masked his impatience well behind a facade of stoicism but as the young Ensign approached it spilled out.:: Zehn (Reigan): You are late Cornwell: Sir? Zehn: You were to report to me at oh five hundred hours Cornwell: And here I am. ::He frowned.:: Zehn: Computer, time Computer: The time is oh five hundred hours and two minutes Cornwell: Two minutes? That's not really late Zehn (Reigan): And what, may I ask, is the threshold for being "really" late? five minutes? ten minutes? fifteen minutes? How long does it take for an explosive device to go off or for someone to beam away from a crime scene? Timing is essential in the life of a security officer. Cornwell: I understand, Boss. It won't happen again. ::He knew he was being tough on her but he knew she could handle it. He was always tough on new recruits, they picked things up quicker if he wouldn't let them away with anything. He was particularly hard on Valerie because he knew she could be really good but also because he could tell she was developing a crush on him.:: ::The last Zehn host, Tomen, had been a star athlete and an attractive man. Tomen had been used to that sort of attention, Janel thrived on it and Zhima had mourned the loss of the political power that had made him attractive to woman. For Reigan, that sort of attention was unexpected and unwelcome.:: ::They began his morning ritual of patrolling the large Nebula-class starship. He liked the crew, and the civilians onboard, to see him around and to be a visible presence on the ship. It was a habit he was hoping to instil in the young Ensign Cornwell. He had a set route that he always took and usually Zehn (Reigan): Did you hear about the wormhole? The first stable wormhole to the Gamma quadrant Cornwell: Yes, it's exciting ::The Trill man's face remained stoic, obviously annoyed at her inability to think like a security officer.:: Zehn (Reigan): No it isn't. We have no idea who or what is on the other side of that wormhole and what sort of danger they pose to us. Cornwell: I suppose. Zehn (Reigan): I know that when arresting a Klingon I need to take backup; or when questioning a Betazoid be aware that they can read my mind or that an Orion woman has pheromones that make men go mad and to send female officers. I don't have that knowledge about these new races we might encounter and that make me nervous. Cornwell: Of course but it isn't the point of Starfleet to explore the galaxy? Zehn (Reigan): It is but I don't like uncertainty and neither should any good security officer. Danger lurks around every corner, never forget that. ~~End Flashback~~ ((Black Tower)) Cornwell: I'm not sure how well you've been briefed. I spoke to Savannah and she asked if I could speak to you about this... ::Kaedyn adjusted position in his chair. Surely, she knew he hadn't even had time to visit his office. She had sent someone to collect him from the lobby of the tower.:: Zehn: I haven't been briefed at all, yet. Cornwell: How familiar are you with the Thracian Alliance situation? ::Open-ended questions. Was she using Reigan's interrogation techniques against him? Such a question led the person being asked into a situation where they couldn't quite be sure what was being asked. In that circumstance, people often gave away more than they planned as an attempt to find the answer to whatever the real question was.:: Zehn: I'd imagine I know as much as anyone of my previous rank and position on this station knows. ::She smiled at his equivocation.:: Cornwell: After a few years in Investigation, I have found myself in the deep end of intelligence. When the Thracian Alliance was established, I was sent here to establish links with them. That assignment has ended and I am being pulled out. When Savannah informed me that you were taking over the Intel brief here, I was glad that someone I could trust would be involved. Zehn: I'm not here to create intelligence networks. Cornwell: Of course not. Zehn: Then what? ::She leaned forward, placing her arms on her desk and interlocking her fingers.:: Cornwell: I'll be frank with you, Kaedyn. Thracia is a mess and it is my belief that it poses a risk to the Federation. The whole place is riddled with agents and double agents and probably triple agents... Zehn: I had gathered as much. Cornwell: Why? Zehn: There are two groups of Romulans on opposite sides of the Thracian border and there's that old saying: when two Romulans are in a room, they are likely both spying on each other. Factor in the proximity of the Klingons who are better at intelligence that they may pretend to be; the fact that some of those who found themselves in Thracian space will have loyalty to their previous governments and the number of alien traders and diplomats that have made a bee-line for the Alliance. I'd be surprised if ::She smiled, confident that the investigative capability of Reigan was present in this recently promoted young officer. For his part, Kaedyn was a little surprised at how he was speaking.:: Cornwell: I am concerned that as a result, the Thracians will develop a Tal'Shiar style intelligence agency. If they do, it will be up to you to keep in contact with the fledgling networks that I have established and ensure that such spies don't wind up on SB118. ::He frowned.:: Zehn: Commander, I have been on this job for less than a day. Surely, someone with more experience would be better suited... Cornwell: If anyone can do this, it would be Reigan Zehn Zehn: ::frowning:: I'm not Reigan Zehn Cornwell: You are the nearest I have to him and with Jilenna's counter-intel experience you are probably even better suited for it. ::He cleared his throat.:: Zehn: Commander, my position is within the Starbase chain of command... Cornwell: That was not my decision, believe me. Zehn: Regardless of whose decision it is, I get my orders from my commanding officer. I won't subvert the chain of command. Has this been cleared with Commander Nicholotti? ::A shadow briefly crossed her face and Kaedyn, acutely aware that this woman who had been his subordinate was now his superior by quite a bit, worried that he had stepped over the line. However, almost as quickly as it had appeared her expression softened again.:: Cornwell: Commander Nicholotti is your CO and I respect that. I also trust Nicholotti, which I can't say about a lot of people any more. This is simply a counter-intelligence assignment, which would be within your area of responsibility and Commander Nicholotti will certainly be kept in the loop. Zehn: Okay... Cornwell: It has been felt that since Kaedyn has no background in intelligence, you won't have shown up on anyone else's radar. In short, you won't be seen as much of a threat to the Thracians, Klingons or Romulans. Zehn: Do you have any proof that the Thracians are planning anything like the organisation you are describing? Cornwell: There are. I just know there are. ~~Flashback: 2369~~ ((USS Indomitable)) ::The morning patrol of the ship had become an excellent opportunity for the Security Chief and his apprentice to discuss any questions she had and for him to impart his wisdom. He had even managed to accept the crush that she had on him, which did not appear to be going away anytime soon.:: Cornwell: Okay, what would you do if you know someone is guilty but we can't prove it. ::Nodding to a passing officer as they walked, he considered the question. It was one of the most difficult aspects of security work.:: Zehn (Reigan): We investigate using our gut instincts but that can only get us so far. Proof. Evidence. Facts. These are what we must strive for at all times Cornwell: And what do we do if we can't find any proof? Zehn (Reigan): Look harder. Turn over more stones. Go back and turn over the ones you'll already looked under. Speak to your witnesses again. Cornwell: And then what? ::The Trill stopped and turned to face the young ensign.:: Zehn (Reigan): Then you may have to accept as justice is not served. ::She looked incredulous at the very notion of it, as if Cornwell: You'd just give up? Zehn (Reigan): Give up? Never. That's the key, we may have to watch as a criminal gets away or a crime goes unsolved but we never give up. We never give up. ~~End Flashback~~ ((Black Tower)) Zehn: I will look over any information that you have and discuss this with the Commander. ::For the first time in their conversation, she visible bristled and regarded him as the subordinate that he was rather than the mentor he had been.:: Cornwell: I am not a new ensign, Lieutenant. I do not need you to check my work. ::He said nothing for a long time. She had been used to Reigan Zehn who, given the chance to lead an investigation like this, would have jumped at the chance. She had not reckoned with the stubbornness of this new host.:: Zehn: Then until I am ordered otherwise, I cannot help you. ::Opening her mouth to respond, she closed it again and leaned back in her chair. After staring at him for a long time in silence, she lifted a PADD and tossed it across the desk at him.:: Cornwell: That doesn't leave the Tower. You have until tomorrow to get back to me. Speak to Nicholotti if you wish. Zehn: Thank you. Cornwell: Dismissed, Lieutenant. TBC Lieutenant Kaedyn Zehn Intelligence Officer SB118 / USS Victory

Welcome to the Fleet!

I think a big reason for that is due to the time in which this was written. It was a pretty big task to try to incorporate the idea of true religious freedom without alienating the viewers and fans in these times who still held to traditions that we see fading today. The idea of women on the bridge, multi-national crews, and a society where all were equal was a big enough chunk to bite off without attempting to take on religion. So, I see the writers simply throwing out religious implications related to humans and making their statement of equality by saying alien religious beliefs should be respected and followed.

Welcome to the Fleet!

(( First Officer's Office - USS Apollo)) :: Liam had lost track of how much time he had spent in his office, though his chronometer had kept perfect time and indicated that it had been about forty-five minutes. He looked at the monitor in front of him, taking stock of how far he had gotten with the message he had prepared for the family of Daniel Brandon.:: :: Nowhere.:: :: There were, at times, words on the screen in front of him, but none of them seemed appropriate, and none of them seemed to stay there for long. Of course, there would be a note made in the Apollo's official logs, and Starfleet would likely forward that information once it was processed. But it seemed so impersonal. If anything happened to him in the line of duty, Liam had always felt it would be better for his family to find out personally, from someone like the Captain, or even Sidney.:: :: But the Solstice had been missing for nearly twenty years, and her crew presumed lost along with her. It was possible that Commander Brandon's family had moved on since then and made peace with their loss. If that was the case, would contacting them about it simply be opening old woulds that had been healing for more than half of Liam's life. there was the chance that saying something, anything, to them might just make things worse for the family.:: :: He spent long moments pondering it, what he should do. He considered asking someone, Jaxx or even Cayden, how to act. But he couldn't bring himself to put it on either of them. They carried the same burden, or the memories of it, and to put that weight on them seemed more than just unfair.:: :: He took a deep breath, and a long sip of coffee before entering a few commands into his terminal. He waited for a few moments while the subspace relays of the Apollo connected to the ones that he had requested. After a few seconds, the Stafleet logo was replaced by the face of a woman a few years older than Liam. He could tell she was the woman she was looking for, she bore an unmistakable resemblance to the man who's Starfleet record he'd been looking at a few minutes ago.:: Woman: Hello. :: Liam did his best to keep his voice neutral.:: Frost: Lydia Brandon? Brandon: Yes. And you are? :: He could tell she was at least mildly confused. She was a civilian. And to be contacted directly by a Starfleet officer was at least the slightest bit strange.:: Frost: I'm Lieutenant Commander Liam Frost, of the USS Apollo. Brandon: How can I help you, Commander? :: He allowed himself as long a pause as he felt he could without creating any unnecessary tension. He needed to choose his words carefully, but he had to do so quickly.:: Frost: I have some information that I though you would want to here. :: He paused a moment longer.:: Frost: We recovered some wreckage this morning, as well as the body of a Starfleet officer. :: He could see her expression begin to change slightly, as though she were steeling herself for the information that she was about to receive. That she had always know that she might receive.:: Frost: We found your father. :: There was nothing for several long moments except silence while Lydia Brandon finally absorbed the fact that she had suspected would come for so long. There were no tears, no visceral reactions, no anger. Just a solemn acceptance of what she had suspected for so long.:: Brandon: I see. Frost: I'm sorry that you had to find out this way. After so long. Brandon: I think a part of my always knew this day was going to come. The Solstice was declared lost when I was a kid. :: This time it was her time to spend a few moments choosing her words.:: Brandon: Can I ask you something, Commander? Frost: Of course. Brandon: My father... do you know how he die? :: It was the most loaded questions he had ever faced. The answer raised questions about the nature of life and death that human philosophers had grappled with for centuries. from a strictly biological stance, Daniel Brandon had been alive right up until the moment Liam had shot him. But was he still Daniel Brandon at the time? Some might argue that Daniel Brandon died twenty years ago, the day he was assimilated. He ceased to be an individual, and became a drone. He followed the will of the collective, and was no more a person than a character on the holodeck. In the end, it didn't matter what the answer was, he couldn't bring himself to place that burden upon her. He looked the as straight in the eye as the connection would allow him to, and told her exactly how her father had met his end.:: Frost: Bravely. :: She stared at him for another long moment before nodding slowly. She knew there was more to the story than he was telling her, she had to. There would be time for her to read the official reports, to find out what had happened. But for now, It was enough for her to know that her father had died the way he lived, bravely in the face of danger and the unknown. And perhaps, with that information, she would be able to better handle that report. Or perhaps, he could only hope, that would be enough. For a moment, the faintest smile appeared on her features, as if a small portion of the weight she had carried with her was lifted. Brandon: I see. I never knew quite how I would feel when I found out what happened. It's nice to have some closure. Frost: If there's anything I can do, please don't hesitate to contact me. Brandon: I won't. And, Commander. Thank you. Frost: You're welcome. :: He reached forward and closed the connection before leaning back in his desk chair. He let his head fall back slightly and closed his eyes as a small wave of relief washed over him. It wasn't a pleasant duty to perform, but one that was necessary. In spite of himself, he was slightly relieved that he had never known Lieutenant Commander Brandon. It gave him a small degree of separation from the situation that he wouldn't have had otherwise.:: :: After a few seconds, he stood, taking a one last sip of his increasingly cold coffee before replacing the mug into the replicator to be reclaimed. He had, once again, emerged from the situation with his humanity intact, and that was something to be grateful for. He moved towards the door, straightening his uniform jacket and letting a long breath out before he stepped back out onto the bridge and into reality.:: LtCmdr Liam Frost First Officer USS Apollo

Welcome to 118!

::There was a cakey kind of taste in the air as her friends mingled around her; green swirls of light in her blackened world. Nessa was giggling as Levi slipped on some spilt beer and sprawled on the floor. The green swirl flashed with red, then blue and back to green as he picked himself up, brushed himself off, and went to the bar to collect another drink. Nights like this were rare, and they were getting rarer as the group got older. Nobody muchly cares what a group of kids get up to in the big city during the night, but as you approach adulthood certain things are expected of you, it seemed. Even kids like them. The lost, abandoned, broken children of the world. "The bigger you get, the more useful you become so the more people notice you" is how Arlie had put it. She hadn't seen Arlie for months now. People must've noticed him for something. Nessa hoped it was something good - she'd liked him. He'd been the one that had saved her all those years ago, and also the one that had introduced her to the little pills that made everything so colourful. That was an accident on his part, but she was nonetheless grateful for it. It was always so dull and boring without them.:: ::She often wondered why she was the only girl around on nights like this. Sometimes, when they went to the nightclubs or holomovies, there'd be other girls around. But they were never with her group. They were just... there. They all seemed very pretty; maybe that was it. Maybe they were too pretty to be hanging around with the likes of her, with her man-face and short hair. Arlie said she looked pretty, but he was the only one. He was probably just being nice. Besides, the hair was his fault in a way - though she couldn't rightly blame him for the face.:: ((Flashback - 6 Years Previously)) Arlie: 'ere, Euan. Be a good boy and look after this one, will ya? ::The big burly one they called Arlie presented Nessa to the kid as if she was a present. Perhaps she was. She certainly felt delivered, from somewhere very dark and scary that she didn't much care for to... here, wherever this was. Some half-empty warehouse in the middle of a stinking shipyard. There were bits of shuttlecraft everywhere, and some bigger pieces that Nessa had never seen before. None of it worked, though. That would've been too easy. She could climb in and fly away into the sky, leaving smelly London and all her troubles behind. Of course, she'd quickly be apprehended by Starfleet, or even more likely die in a massive fireball, but she was never one for foresight.:: ::Arlie couldn't have been older than eighteen years, but little Euan made him seem fatherly by comparison. The Welsh accent really didn't give the boy chance to even pretend to be older, either. In truth he was twelve, only a year older than Necessity. Though he tried to stretch that year out as far as it would go. It was hard to believe she would become friends, of a sort, with Euan and his ever-cheerful sing-song voice.:: Euan: Alright there, is it? What's your name then little'un? James: ::Stroppily:: Necessity. And I'm not little! Euan: ::Thoughtfully:: That's a weird one, never 'eard that name before... you one o' them aliens or summut? Lots o' weird names they have like, Arlie tells me stories about 'em. ::A grin of triumph crept across Necessity's lips.:: James: Arlie *gave* it to me. I didn't 'ave one before. Or if I did I dunno know what it was, nobody never used it. ::She beamed:: Said I'm special and res... resor- ::The strange word gave her pause, so - true to it's meaning - she found a way around it.:: summink what means I find ways of doin' fings. Even when they's too 'ard. I get's 'em done. Euan:: Resourceful, is it? Well, gotta be that out 'ere I suppose. James: Arlie says necesserty's the muvver of invention. Says I'm gonna be an inventor. Euan: ::Under his breath:: 'spect she'll be the mother o' more'n that 'fore long. ::He s[...]ed, then spoke louder, to Nessa:: That 'air o' yours. Breedin' rats in it, are we? ::As much as Nessa scrunched her face up in offence and annoyance, she couldn't actually remember the last time she'd washed her hair. Or any of her, for that matter. Instead she resorted to the age-old defence of crossing her arms and stamping her foot.:: James: You're mean! ::A scathing riposte, sure to win any argument.:: Euan: Sorry precious, only commentin' like. Looks a bit of a mess, that's all. 'course, I could fix that for you, y'know. ::She had been so eager for the remedy. Looking back, there were several points along the way where a more suspicious girl - the cynic that she would later become, for instance - would have noticed what was happening. But for eleven-year-old Necessity James it wasn't until her fringe fell to the floor in front of her eyes that she noticed. She'd screamed then. Screamed so loud that Arlie had come rushing up the stairs and stormed into the room.:: Arlie: Euan! What in 'ells name, boy?! Euan: Quicker than washin' it, isn't it? Lovely now it is... ::Nessa's eyes had narrowed in rage at the smile Arlie couldn't quite conceal. Looking back, it must've been pretty funny for everyone except the victim. Worse still was that Arlie actually restrained her, so that Euan could finish the butchery! Hours later when she was put to bed that night, Arlie came to her with a mirror.:: Arlie: I know you're angry, Ness. But in time you'll realise that actually, young Euan might've saved you a lot of trouble with that 'aircut. ::The restraining made sense almost immediately, when she realised how she must've looked with only half her hair cut off. The actual cutting didn't make sense to her until much later, but he was right. That was the defining thing about Arlie; sooner or later, he was always right.:: ((End Flashback)) ::Nessa smiled as she read the message on her PADD the next morning. There was to be a 'meet and greet' in the Holodeck on the Victory tonight. A chance to get to know everyone. She recalled bitterly the last time she'd "gotten to know everyone", It was shortly before the entire bleedin' lot of them were shipped off to the USS Apollo along with the Captain she'd met for the most brief of moments, and left her on the station with another bunch of strangers. Except for a Caitian named- no, she wasn't even going to try that one from memory. What had happened to her, anyway?:: oO They'd better not take Luna away... Oo ::Puling herself out of her bed, she had a little giggle at the mess that greeted her in the mirror. Nessa pulled on some cargo pants and a vest top, and stumbled over to the replicator.:: oO This one's for you, Euan. Ya little taffy git. Oo James: One pair of hairdressing scissors, left handed. Computer: ::Playing a discordant error tone:: Access denied. James: ::Incredulously:: I'm denied... a pair of scissors? Computer: Access to sharp implements and cutting blades restricted in these quarters. ::Necessity stood, staring at the replicator in awe.:: James: Oi, I ain't bein' told what I can and can't 'ave by a metal box. What am I, six? Computer: Restriction implemented by Starfleet Counsellor Lisa Hyatt, 238901.18. ::The date Nessa graduated from Starfleet Academy. She'd forgotten about the Hyatt woman, and her objections to Nessa even entering training, let alone graduating it. Nessa had expressed quite plainly that she was not "a mental case", that a Starfleet Cousellor should not be using such a term even if she was, and finally had given quite a detailed description of where she thought Dr. Hyatt could store her psycho analysis report. Nevertheless, it seemed Lisa had gotten the last laugh. Well, Nessa would just have to consult Lieutenant Valyn about that, wouldn't she...:: Walker: =/\= Commander Walker to Lt. Valyn and Lt. James. =/\= James: ::Trying not to sound annoyed:: =/\= James 'ere, sir. =/\= Walker: =/\= I need your assistance in setting up the meet and greet tonight, I'd like to get your opinions and determine what supplies we can utilize. =/\= James: ::With a mischievous grin:: =/\= Not sure the kinda parties I'm used to 'aving are what you've got in mind... oO nor the type of supplies, for that matter Oo. But I'll give it a go, sir. Fancy discussin' it in person? Feels like I ain't eaten for six weeks. =/\= Walker: =/\= [Response?] =/\= James: =/\= Sounds like a plan, sir. I'll meet you there in, what, an hour? =/\= Walker: =/\= [Response?] =/\= James: =/\= Five-by-five, sir. See ya then. =/\= ------------------------------------------------ Lieutenant (JG) Necessity James H/C/O USS Victory/SB118

Welcome aboard!

Welcome to the 118 Fleet (family!) =)

Welcome (and welcome back)!

((Starbase 118 - Deck 775)) ::It was late when Kaedyn Zehn reluctantly left his office and returned to his empty quarters. With Eliaan away again on the Victory, he felt acutely lonely. That his partner could frequently be called away for duty was something Kaedyn had accepted and had not thought much about before he was joined but he was more aware of Eliaan’s absence now. In a cruel irony, now that he had the memories of all those other people swimming around in his head he felt more alone than when he was just one person and one set of memories.:: ::He stood in the middle of their quarters in the dark, not sure what to do next. He felt himself pulling in two directions: his life with Eliaan, even if it was starting to feel unfulfilling, was here on Starbase 118 but his previous host’s son was being taken by his grandmother to Trill.:: ::With Eliaan gone, he needed someone to talk to about all this but as he thought of it, he realised that Kaedyn hadn’t had much of a life prior to Joining. His own career had become mostly following Eliaan from one posting to another and somehow he had never been able to develop friendships. He thought of the new Counsellor but he knew she was on the Victory; then there was Jonesy but thought it couldn’t be someone who had been part of Jilenna’s life.:: ::Then, from deep within his subconscious, the answer came to him.The most appropriate person to speak to was within himself. While the big personalities of Leora and Zhima and the more recent hosts Reigan and Jilenna loomed heavily in his mind, there was also the quiet, kind, nurturing voice of Zehn’s fourth host Calla.:: ::The station’s caretaker, Jinto, had suggested he undertake a zhian'tara ceremony to meet all his hosts. Kaedyn had balked at that suggestion, worried that he would be even more overwhelmed by them all in person. But there was another way, the Trill Rite of Emergence, which would allow him to speak to one of his former hosts.:: ::Not knowing if it would even work, he looked up the Rite on the Trill database and replicated the necessary equipment. Having struggled so much to find some outlet for all his feelings, he was excited to now have a plan of action and quickly set up the ritual in the bedroom.:: ::Staring into the mirror, he began chanting the ancient Trill words that would allow his past host to reveal herself to him. He could feel himself shake with nerves. What if she didn’t think he was good enough to carry her Symbiont and her memories? How could he, emotional wreck that he was, ever live up to the proud lineage of Zehn? Still, he continued to chant the words that would bring her forth.:: ::In the mirror, his reflection rippled and was replaced with the image of a woman. It was amazing how different the many hosts of Zehn looked, despite being more or less parts of the same person. Calla’s skin was pale so that her Trill spots stood out more than his; her auburn hair was worn loose and sat on her shoulders. He noted that they shared a similar colour of green eyes.:: (Calla) Zehn: Kaedyn, it's lovely to meet you ::There was a warm familiarity in her face, despite him having never met her before. All the apprehension he felt at conducting the ritual and asking for help melted away with her warm, accepting smile. Her voice was lower than he had imagined it to be and she seemed to know how to use it in such a manner that it sounded as if she were singing rather than talking.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: Hello Calla (Calla) Zehn: Well, you’ve not been having a great time of it recently. Have you? ::He would have laughed, if he had thought the expression of emotion wouldn’t lead him to tears. :: (Kaedyn) Zehn: No, not really. (Calla) Zehn: I’m glad you called on me for help. ::Turning from the mirror, he was aware of Calla standing beside him although he knew she was just an image created by his mind and the powerful effects of the Trill mud that bubbled in the urn in front of him. He walked out of the bedroom and into the living area and she followed him.:: (Calla) Zehn: The last time I was on a Starfleet vessel, the quarters were much smaller. ::Never great at small-talk when not directed at patients, Kaedyn found it even harder to with this person who was part of him. Acknowledging the awkwardness, he wondered whether that contributed to his inability to make new friends and forced himself to take part in the exchange.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: Yes, the quarters here are much larger than normal. This is a huge station; everything is on a larger scale it seems. ::The absurdity of the situation, of standing in a room talking to a construct of his mind and the memories held in Zehn, suddenly occurred to him and an involuntary grin crossed his face.:: (Calla) Zehn: What is it? (Kaedyn) Zehn: You’re a psychologist… don’t you think this is a crazy situation? ::She threw her head back and laughed before sitting down on one of the two sofas in the living area.:: (Calla) Zehn: Crazy isn’t a word I would normally use, its frowned upon in my line of work, but I will agree this is an unusual situation. It can help though. ::He sat down across from her, the eerie feeling of speaking to a figment of his mind fading as he spoke to her.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: Have you done this yourself? (Calla) Zehn: No, but Jilenna used the Rite of Emergence to call me forth twice. She went through a particularly bad time after her husband died and I would like to think I was able to help her out. ::In the back of his mind, he knew that. It was a strange thing to discuss the memories he carried with someone who had taken part in them. He smiled and nodded slowly, remembering the conversations between Jilenna and Calla.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: You must get tired of only being called upon when one of us has a problem. (Calla) Zehn: Kaedyn, I am always a part of you, just as I was a part of Jilenna. If you ever need me then you just need to look inward. If you are finding that too difficult for whatever reason, you can perform the Rite and speak to me directly. Just think of me as the family therapist, always on call. ::He smiled and then remained quiet for a long time. Calla made no sign of impatience or irritation but instead sat watching him with a calm, almost neutral, look on her face. She had been, he remembered, a very successful psychologist and had seen patients almost until the day she died.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: Its Janel… ::She nodded slowly, leaning back into the chair and interlocking her fingers. He had caught himself sitting in a similar position recently and smiled as he realised where it had come from.:: (Calla) Zehn: Jilenna’s Janel or third host Janel? (Kaedyn) Zehn: The baby (Calla) Zehn: Good, I love Janel as much as all the other hosts but can be difficult to deal with. At my zhian'tara he actually fell out with me and refused to speak to me. My poor brother had to carry his memories for two days before he finally let up and spoke to me again. I have no idea why Jilenna would want to name her son after him! ::Kaedyn laughed and could feel himself relax into the conversation. It was, he thought, like speaking to a beloved parent or a close sibling and he realised why Jilenna had taken such comfort from it.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: Something for me to look forward to then. (Calla) Zehn: Indeed. Now, why don’t you explain to me what the problem with Janel is? ::He told her about his post-Joining experience, about how he had been determined to return to the station and make sure Janel was okay following his mother’s death and how Mezan was now planning to return to Trill with Janel. He talked about how he felt torn between the two aspects of his life and how he was terrified that he was going to mess everything up.:: (Calla) Zehn: It is very common to experience strong attachments to the families and partners of previous hosts, as I am sure you have been told. These attachments are stronger again with regard to your immediate predecessor and when there are children involved it can be virtually impossible to separate your feelings. (Kaedyn) Zehn: I guess other hosts are trained to deal with this. This is why people like me aren’t supposed to get symbionts. ::She shook her head, her auburn hair flowing over her shoulders as she moved.:: (Calla) Zehn: Your situation is rare but I don’t think there is enough training in the world to prepare you for how overwhelmed any of us feel when we are given the memories of people who have recently died. You can’t blame yourself for finding it difficult. I found it difficult, we all did. ::It was comforting to hear. He hadn’t really realised that he was blaming himself for not being able to reconcile his mixed feelings. He was locked into punishing himself for something that most people would be just as troubled with.:: (Calla) Zehn: You feel pulled between the lives Kaedyn had built for himself with Eliaan and the one torn away from Jilenna too quickly. Given the fact that you were not planning to be Joined, it is completely natural for your life as Kaedyn Zehn to go in a third direction. It is also natural for you to take elements of Jilenna’s life and incorporate them into your own. (Kaedyn) Zehn: But how do I reconcile situations where they go in opposite directions? (Calla) Zehn: Then you have to work out which direction is right for you (Kaedyn) Zehn: What if I already know the direction but am too scared to articulate it because if I get it then everything I’ve ever wanted comes true and if I don’t then I can’t work out how to live with the regret? ::Calla made no response sensing, he figured, that he had more to say or waiting for him to actually come the point that they had both knew he hadn’t reached yet. He had carried it with him since he had returned to the station. He had danced around it, too afraid to even allow himself to think it fully never mind say it out loud.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: What if I want to stay here with Eliaan, change my job and adopt Janel? What if that’s the new life that I want? ::A broad smile spread across Calla’s face and she leaned towards him:: (Calla) Zehn: Ah, then this may turn out to be a longer session than you might have expected… TBC Lieutenant (junior grade) Kaedyn Zehn Chief Nursing Officer SB118 / USS Victory

((Transporter Room - USS Apollo)) :: The air that Liam breathed in as he materialized in the transporter room of the Apollo was as fresh as an ocean breeze when compared to the dank, stale atmosphere of the Canduc. He had only spend a total of a few hours on the ship, but it was more than enough of that type of environment to last him for a long time. Most of the crew fled out of the room made their way out and to the turbolift. Liam allowed himself to fall behind them, catching the next lift and taking it up to deck three. A short walk down the hall and he found himself in front of his own door.:: :: The lights of the room came on as he entered, enjoying the slow transformation that was taking place as he and Cayden slowly made the otherwise unremarkable room feel slightly more like a home, though he had to admit it was more by her doing than by his. He appreciated the effort none the less, as he had little talent for it himself. After a few moments of admiration, he made his way to the bathroom. He began running water into the sink, splashing and wiping his face in an effort to remove what felt like a fair layer of general grime that he had accumulated while aboard the freighter. He toweled off and took a moment to examine himself in the mirror.:: :: His memory drifted back to his first away mission on the Victory. He remembered how it felt to step off the shuttle for the first time after their rather spectacular landing. He remembered the strangest mix of pride and guilt. Pride at having gotten the shuttle down without any serious injuries, and yet guilt for not having been able to prevent the crash in the first place. He was just an ensign then, fresh out of the academy, and far less prepared for what the galaxy had in store for him than he had believed he was. :: :: He looked down at the collar of his uniform. Two gold pips and one black one. They were, to him, more than a simple denotation of rank, an indicator of his status within the hierarchy of Starfleet rank. each of them was a symbol of something he had experienced, something he had seen, something that he had experienced, something that he had lost whether he had prepared for it or not.:: :: They each sat on the collar of his dark red shirt. It wasn't any different from the collar he'd worn when he first came aboard the Victory and first taken his seat at her conn. They'd soon rushed off onto a situation more profound than many officers had experienced in their entire careers. He'd worn a gold one too, as the Chief of security for an entire Starbase and it's 118,000 residents and countless visitors. And there too he'd seen more than he could have imagined when a terrorist organization had bombed the station. He's never even found the time, or the nerve, to read the final count of lives lost in the hours of the attack and the days after. He'd had to contact a few families of security officers that had made the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty. And not once had it gotten any easier, though he supposed that was proof that he hadn't lost his humanity.:: :: And now he was back in red. The colour was like having come full circle. He had stepped aboard wearing it, expecting so much of himself, and the rest of the crew uncertain of what to expect from him. He had been the outsider then, joining a crew that had already established itself, and he had worked hard to find his place in it. Now he was wearing the colour again, but the expectations were somewhat reversed. This time they represented everything that the crew expected of him. They expected him to be a leader, a guide as they ventured boldly into the unknown, and to do his best to balance their interests with the mission. the Captain expected much of him too; a bridge between him and the crew, a voice of reason, someone to bounce ideas off of, and, if need be, to tell him when he was plain out of his telepathic mind.:: :: And underneath it all was Liam. Not the pilot, the security officer, or even the explorer. Just the man, the son, the brother, and the friend. History would judge him by those other things. But the ones closest to him, his parents, his brother and sister, and Cayden, would all judge him simply by what measure of a man he was and had been. And that was all he could demand of himself, was to be a man. Not the man that they saw him as, or as the man he wanted them to see him as, but simply the man the he wanted to see himself as.:: :: And in that moment, he had, for the first time, a clarity that he had not had before. A clarity of expectation and of purpose. When it had mattered, and been expected of him, he had been the leader that his team needed. And he had brought them all back safely. No one could have expected any more from him, not even himself. He looked at himself in the mirror once more, with his new found clarity and knew that he was, in that moment in time, exactly where he was meant to be.:: :: He stepped out of the bathroom, crossing his quarters to the bedroom and retrieved a fresh uniform, and discarding the dirty one for reclamation. He pulled the shirt over his head and pulled the jacket over his shoulders. He looked down at the pictures on the desk as he walked back into the living room. The picture of his family, the one of him with Sidney and Oliver on some adventure, and he smiled.:: Frost: Computer, begin recording. :: The computer chirped at him in acknowledgement.:: Frost Hey mom. I have to get back to work in a few minutes, but I thought I should let you know how I've been... LtCmdr Liam Frost First Officer USS Apollo

((Somewhere on the Surface of Thracia II)) ::A stiff wind blew through the baring trees, shedding more of the dying leaves from the brittle branches and bringing with it a chill that permeated the air surrounding the silently moving predator. With darkness falling, it would have been difficult to see the black hair billowing behind her head like smoke from a growing blaze, unless of course you knew just what you were looking for. To the prey she stalked, her silent movements went unnoticed as it continued to gather what it would need to survive the coming winter.:: ::With speed and agility that came naturally to the woman who darted through the trees and across the blanket of dead leaves spread over the hillside ground, Ili'kai approached her prey from a downwind angle. Sharpened spear in hand, her graceful movements finally brought her in range of the large rodent-like creature. Pulling the spear back in the same manner her mother had taught her, she took one last aim at the animal and sent the weapon sailing through the air.:: ::As her fingertips let their grip fade, the creature finally looked up to see the hunter, but by then it was already too late. An almost sickening cry erupted from it as the spear found its mark and took a life that had been there only moments before. With a sigh, the woman moved next to her kill and fell on her knees whispering towards the first stars that began to appear in the ever darkening sky above.:: ((Warbird Rinoaul - In Orbit of Thracia II)) ::The Thracian Alliance has officially been born. With the transition of the Vauthil to the command of Commander Kital Creena, and the apparent retreat of the Klingons from the border world's orbit, the newly born, interstellar power could begin to gain a foothold in one of the most contested and hostile regions of space known to the galaxy - the Neutral Zone that lay between the Klingon Empire's territory and that which once belonged to the Romulan Star Empire.:: ::With help from the Federation, war over the mineral rich planet below had been averted. Despite the apparent direction in which the Alliance would head, the Commander of the Starfleet ship which had been dispatched to negotiate the contested region had finally stood behind the third option once it had been presented. Not wanting the world to be either Klingon or Romulan, and rightly so due to its location, the raven haired officer had backed up the Thracian Fleet which had been disguised in the cloak of the Romulan predecessors to whom the ships had once belonged.:: ::The destruction of Hobus had changed everything and the move to bring together a sect of Romulans with a group of Velorians and Ameoneians seemed promising for all involved. Now they had created the fledgling Alliance, with their first task to be implementing mining operations on the untouched planet below. The world was rich in minerals, and it would bring plenty of income to the new Alliance, but there was still one small issue to take care of. Far below the Rinoaul, on the surface of the primitive world, was a proto-Vulcan race that had not yet achieved industry let alone space travel.:: ::It was an issue that would need dealing with, but not one that would slow the new Thracian Alliance down.:: ((Somewhere on the Surface of Thracia II)) ::Standing on the edge of a rock that jutted farther into the sky than those surrounding it, as if reaching for the very stars she watched, Ili'kai pulled the heavy cloth hanging off her shoulders closer around her thin frame. The first chill of winter could be felt here much more starkly than it could below in the forest. The lack of trees on the rocky ledge permitted the whipping winds to race the birds along the mountaintops as they sought shelter as they would from a coming storm.:: ::The same feeling that sent the animals deeper into the darkness set an uneasy feeling about her. Though the rock she stood on, Stormwatch, was named for its vantage point that gave her people the ability to see, and thus prepare ahead of time, for the coming storms sent by the gods, this night she saw nothing but clear skies. Night spread across the lands, snuffing the last of the daylight and sending the sun into exile until day would break once more on the other side of the sky. The stars appeared, twinkling into existence one by one as the sky grew darker and the last remnants of the day were lost forever. There were no signs of a storm, yet the winds carried with them a new voice; whispers of change that promised something sinister she couldn't quite understand.:: ::Things were simple for her and her people. The same events came year after year, season after season, with very little changing the lands around the villages that thrived along the river they knew as Mirak. It was the water that brought life and provided them with the creatures that they hunted. It gave them a mode of transport and refreshment on the warmest of the summer days. Winters weren't easy, but the river allowed life to thrive through the cold as long as you had the tools to break through the surface to the flowing water below the ice.:: ::Traditions had been passed from mother to daughter since antiquity. Ili'kai was proof of those traditions. Now standing on the rock that had been known as the guardian and lookout point, where her people sent scouts to catch the very first tendrils of danger that might be heading their way, what amounted to the princess of the Paytora people sought to figure out just what danger that might be. There were no visible signs of it, but the feeling that was eating away at her wouldn't let her give up and take her recent kill home without searching for something deeper.:: ::Again, the dark haired woman with the pointed ears pulled her primitive cover closer around her body to block out the shrill stab of the cold wind, watching as the trees below her in the valley swayed in the growing silence. It was then, as yet another wave moved across the ocean of half bare trees below, that she noticed it.:: ::Far above the few traces of clouds that floated through the night sky, a single point of light appeared to move from one side of the sky near the horizon to a place directly above her. The woman let out a gasp and sunk instinctively to her knees. Taking shelter in the small bushes that grew here and there among the rocks, Ili'kai watched the light as it moved into the distance and disappeared.:: ((Thracian Survey Shuttle - Enroute to the Surface of Thracia II)) ::Cytara Tren, Sub-Commander and Commanding Officer of the now Thracian Alliance Warbird Rinoaul sat back in the chair and watched as the terrain of the planet came into view. It was still very far below them, but she was able to make out a river here and there between seas of various greens, a teal-blue ocean to the east, and some kind of darkened forest in the south. The scientists on the ship had told her of a few small colonies, if that's what you could call them, positioned along the biggest of the rivers. It was here that the primitive race lived.:: ::Mining equipment was already being arranged for transport to the surface. In fact, as soon as day arrived on this side of the planet, the operation was set to begin. However, history had a way of repeating itself, and so Cytara was sent to head off any problems the natives might cause. They might have been primitive, but when you were fighting for your right to exist, strength seemed to find its way to you. It was her job, then, to ensure that strength did not find its way to these people, in this time.:: ::Along the river the shuttle went, getting closer to the surface as it passed one village. A few minutes later it passed another. Things went on like this until the river met a much larger body of water and poured its heart and soul into the sea; a sea that would soon turn red with the blood of the dying world. With a stoic gaze, Cytara watched as the shuttle turned around and lined up for another pass along the river. The effects of the mining operation were of no consequence to her. After all, it was not the Romulans or the new Thracians, who maintained the so-called Prime Directive, and as her mind was only concerned with the wellbeing of her people, the images of the blood red water didn't bother her.:: ::Lower to the surface now, the shuttle sped along, racing up the snaking river as its occupants, mostly science personnel from the Rinoaul, took note of sensor readings, village locations, and mineral rich deposits. In nearly every case, village locations coincided with mineral rich areas, a theory that had come to light while the team had still been on the larger ship above. Now that it had been confirmed, it was time for Cytara to decide on how to relocate the natives without causing too much of a stir.:: ::While her first reaction would be to just get rid of them, the Thracian Alliance was decidedly not the Romulan Star Empire. As such, the game would have to be played a bit differently than if Hobus had still been around. Besides, there was something to be said about native labor. The less they would have to do themselves, the easier the process promised to be. Not only would these native people know the land and any dangers that lurked within, but they would surely be awed by the technology that Cytara and the Alliance would bring with them. Yes; that would be the best way of dealing with the problem of these people that, to her, didn't even have a name.:: ::Perhaps her mind was running away with her, but she envisioned a welcome that the very gods would receive if there had been any. Sure, she knew better, but would the native people of the planet know better? With looks that were similar to the proto-Vulcan race, becoming their religious icons seemed like the path of least resistance and something that she could truly enjoy. Her aspirations within the Romulan military had been dashed with the destruction of their main star, but perhaps she could regain something with her command of the mining operations on Thracia II.:: ::A small, somewhat repugnant smile appeared on her face as she continued to look out the front window of the survey shuttle. Her hands clasped in her lap, plans of her godly 'homecoming' were already coalescing in her mind.:: ((On Top of 'Stormwatch' - The Surface of Thracia II)) ::With the passing of the dancing light in the sky, a sight that Ili'kai took as a sign from the gods above, the land grew eerily still. The sky was still devoid of clouds, yet the calm of the wind, the ground, and the life of the surrounding forest seemed to point directly at an oncoming storm. She was beyond confused now, wondering not only what the strange light in the sky had been, but what the reason was behind the stillness of that night. It felt as if something were coming, though she could not even begin to speculate as to just what it was.:: ::The soft rustle of a nearby bush pulled her eyes from the sky as the head of a large cat-like creature emerged slightly to watch her. A soft smile graced her features and she knelt down to pat it's head. Distracted with her loyal pet, who also refused to step out into the open, Ili'kai never saw the approaching shuttle as it raced along the course of the Mirak river. The wind seemed, for a moment, to pick up, blowing the long dark hair from around her shoulders and out behind her, but she gave that moment and all of her attention to the seemingly fearful animal hiding in the bush.:: ::It was often the timing of the universe that made things as they were, and in this moment, things were no different. As Ili'kai knelt near her beloved pet, whispering tranquil thoughts to him, a deep rumbling sound grew in the distance. Seconds later, the sound grew into a thundering roar as a huge flying creature rushed over Stormwatch. Not having the time to hide, the woman found herself alone again, left with her confusion and fear as she watched the strange bird dart into the distance.:: ::There was a moment where she knelt frozen, unsure of what action to take or even if she had really seen what she had just seen. The creature, having disappeared along the river, left her in near total silence and even the wind calmed beyond the norm. It seemed as if a specific calm, one that preceded the worst of the squalls, had settled; she had to warn her people of the danger that rode on the wind that eve. Though she was still unsure of just what that danger was, they needed to prepare for the coming storm.:: ::Tying the worn in cloth around her shoulders, the agile legs of the Peytora princess carried her quickly through a forest that was far more silent than it should have been. The land itself, along with all of its inhabitants, were preparing for the tempest that was building just out of their sight. Ili'kai knew now that her people needed to do the same, and quickly, if they were to survive.:: ::Her momentum carried her into her village with an air of panic about her. Walking to the elders hall and not speaking to any as she did, the raven haired woman threw open the doors and locked eyes with her mother. There was fear in those eyes, as well as a look that conveyed the dreadful nature of what she had seen. It was only when the great hall fell silent at her abrupt entrance that she spoke.:: "A storm is coming on the wings of a giant eagle," her voice sounded ominous, proclaiming the dire news. "We must prepare." -- Commander Kalianna Nicholotti Commanding Officer Starbase 118/USS Victory

Welcome to the Fleet! =)

I think, if you wanted to develop something like this for our time, you should probably start from scratch. There is so much here that makes me stop and shake my head, though I totally believe it's cool that someone thought to write it up and sell it at a convention. Back in the golden age of conventions before we had the internet en force, we actually had to gather in one physical area to share our crazy love of Star Trek... I am going out on a limb here, but I'm going to guess that most, if not all STDs, like headaches, don't exist anymore at this point in the future... I think that this may have been written back when such things were absolutely taboo and could not be put on TV, or really spoken of, so there was no need to address that which was not socially acceptable then. This document definitely reflects the human values of the time in which is was written. Indeed. What's to stop two people/aliens from procreating without said contract or approval from the Chief Medical Officer. (Again, a reflection of the times in which it was written). That's what I was thinking too...so if you updated it, we would almost have to lose all the medical testing and so on. Are genetic issues widespread enough to even worry about in the Trek future? Wouldn't the most that it would require is a look over of medical records to determine anything? Anyways, I think, if you wanted to tackle this, it might be interesting to have - but it might be easier to just start from a blank page and go from their rather than try to rework this particular list. Cool find though. It's very interesting to see how Trek has changed with the times around it, and perhaps, how we have changed because of Trek?

That's a great idea! Lazer tag in the cooridors of a starship...awesome!

Katrina glanced over her appearance in the strangely plain mirror and adjusted the clip in her hair so that two long tendrils fell to either side of her face without obscuring it. Dressed in her best, the reporter was preparing for what might just be one of the most exciting days of her life. As part of a special program, she had been chosen along with nine other up-and-coming journalists, to participate in an in-depth look at just how things were done on a ship in today's Starfleet. The project was half a recruitment ploy and half an effort to bring those out on exploration missions closer to home, but to Katrina, it was the job of a lifetime. Ensuring that everything was in place and perfect, the dark haired woman leaned backwards so that she could see around the side of the door frame to check the time. There was still ten minutes before she needed to leave for the media relations office in the Command Tower. It would be just enough time to touch up her makeup and ensure that every last detail of her appearance was perfect. For her, the call to join Starfleet had come too late. It was only after the accident that took her leg that she realized it would have been a fine way of life. By then, she was already a well renowned journalist anyways, and leaving the profession she had excelled at to take a stab at something she probably wouldn't be able to do on account of her life-long injury, well, it just didn't make sense. But today, all of that was just water under the bridge. Today she would be in the middle of everything with access to every member of the senior staff and it was a day that she had been looking forward to since the project had been announced. Another glance at the clock told her that it was time to go. With one final look in the mirror, Katrina grabbed her PADD and recorder before confidently walking out of the temporary quarters they had assigned her the day before. The day was waiting and she wasn't going to be the one to hold it up. So, it was with a huge smile on her perfectly made up face that she set off for her assignment. ((Later, Aboard the USS Endeavor)) Things had happened quickly inside the office of the press secretary; so quickly that she hadn't even sat before the details of the day were revealed. She was to be deployed to the USS Endeavor to mirror and interview the senior staff throughout the course of an entire standard day. It would be a test of her time efficiency as well as a test of the officers who she would be speaking with. There was the ever present promise of trouble in the air, along with a dash of awe and wonder, as Katrina had followed the junior officer that had been assigned as her guide. Without many words, he had quickly led her to the transporter and now she was no longer on the Starbase. Instead, she was surrounded by the plain grey bulkheads of a ship based transporter room. "So. Where did you want to go first?" The voice floated up to her ears from the ground in front of the transporter pad. Realizing that she had little time to waste, Katrina quickly stepped off the pad herself and started towards the door. Her guide fell in step next to her. "I thought we'd go by sickbay and engineering first if it's all the same to you," she said as she offered him one of the smiles that she was so well known for. What kind of a journalist would she be without a great smile? This one, like so many others, was just a part of the persona. "Sounds good to me," he said as he shrugged, "I've got nowhere else to be." He made an attempt at taking the lead, but Katrina was already on the quickest path to sickbay. She had spent much of the night before looking at maps and charts so that she could maximize the time she would have with each of the officers she was to interview. That was, at least, one thing that no one could ever accuse her of; being unprepared. Content that she knew where she was going, her guide fell back into step next to her in silence. ((Sickbay, USS Endeavor)) It wasn't a busy day in sickbay, at least not yet. The ship probably hadn't left the Starbase yet, but Katrina was well on her way towards completing the assignment. In an attempt to be as little of a distraction as possible, she simply stepped inside and began watching as normal events began to unfold. Towards the other side of the room, there was a single occupied biobed with a man on it who looked as if he was meant to be anywhere but there. His clothing indicated that he had been doing some kind of exercise. Katrina would later find out he had been playing tennis on the holodeck. She pulled the small recorder from her pocket and hit record just in time to catch a simple exchange between the doc tor and the man. "I know you won't heed this advice," the doctor began as she pressed a hypospray to his neck, "but you really should take it easy for a week or so. That elbow won't heal if you keep pushing it." The smile on the woman's face made her seem overly friendly and only trying to help. The man responded in kind with a friendly look and a shrug. "I know. I just can't sit around," the man said as he laughed. "Well, you should be good to go now," the doctor said as she felt the area around the man's elbow. "I'll see you tomorrow." The man hopped off the biobed and waved. Turning just before he made it to the door, he stopped. "Perhaps not," he said just before disappearing beyond the sliding doors. Katrina watched him leave before walking towards the doctor, who had literally plopped down in the chair behind the Chief Medical Officer's desk in the half enclosed office to the right of the biobeds where she had just been. The smile was gone from her face and she rubbed her temples before noticing the journalist standing in the doorway. "Oh, hello," the doctor offered her a small smile as she spoke, "you must be that reporter." Stepping forward with an outstretched hand, Katrina introduced herself. "That's me, and this is my first stop." The smile returned to the doctor's face as she sat up a bit more and nodded thoughtfully before speaking again, "Welcome to the Endeavor." Not sure what she had just witnessed, Katrina took the cue to sit in a chair on the other side of the desk. With a quick glance around the small office, she thought of the best way to ask just what it was that she wanted to ask. "Rough day already?" was all she could muster. The doctor shook her head no, "I'm just a bit tired, but not enough to interfere with my bedside manner." Katrina made a note on the PADD in her hand; bedside manner. The conversation continued without any trouble and soon the excited journalist had the first of her interviews completed. With a quick thanks to the doctor for taking the time to speak with her, she stood and led her guide out into the corridor. Her mind was already on the next place they would be visiting; Engineering. As she got closer to the moment she would step onto the bridge of that starship her heart seemed to get faster. It would be the crowning moment of the entire day. Not wanting to get ahead of herself, however, she forced one or two deep breaths before the pair arrived at the overly large door to the Engineering department. ((Engineering, USS Endeavor)) The first thing that Katrina noticed about Engineering was the noise. It wasn't an unpleasant noise, but it was loud enough for you to not be able to speak in a normal tone if you wanted other people to hear you. In fact, she could hear a few people speaking loudly over the din of the core itself and the many different computers that were all making sounds of their own. One voice stood out above all others though; one voice that quickly exclaimed in surprise upon seeing the journalist and her guide. "I'm that far behind?!" The man in the gold collar turned, regaining his composure, and issued orders to the group of officers in front of him. He was calm and calculating, directing each of the officers in a firm and commanding manner to the jobs that needed to be accomplished before they went to warp. There wasn't much time, he explained. They were about to head out on their day-long mission and he didn't want to be accountable for the entire ship running behind. As the group dispersed, the man himself found the closest ladder and slid all the way down to the place where Katrina and her guide stood waiting. Extending a hand as she had at the first interview, she half expected the man to take it and lead them to an office. Apparently he had other things to do just then, however, and he walked right past her. "If you want to talk to me, then you've got to walk with me," he said as he moved by in a hurry, "I've got to realign the field before we can engage the warp drive." Scurrying to keep up, Katrina followed the man as he seemed to dart from one station to another. His hands flew across the consoles as if they weren't human but something much more...machine-like. She tried to ask a few questions, to which she got varying short answers, but it wasn't until she asked him if he was always quite so 'in a hurry' that he actually stopped and turned to her. "Ya know, I don't think I'm like this unless I'm here in Engineering," he said with a soft tone behind it, "I'd say I'm normally pretty laid back and lazy." To that comment he laughed heartily before becoming the swirl of activity he had been only moments before. Much like her interview with the doctor, this one went quickly and sooner, rather than later, she was on the move again. This time, however, she would be taking her recording device and her PADD to the bridge. Her excitement must have shown too, because the man next to her seemed to be widening his step just to keep up with her. It didn't matter to the journalist though. This was a dream come true in many ways, and as she approached the lift that would carry them to the center of activity on the ship, her face betrayed the girlish giddy excitement that raged within. ((Bridge, USS Endeavor)) Her first step out onto the bridge after the lift stopped was like walking into a dream. She had never gotten the chance to be on a real bridge, especially on one of the most well known starships in the whole of Starfleet. The smile that was plastered on her face was almost too much, but the bridge officer's didn't seem to mind. Her escort took her around the bridge and showed her each of the stations while introducing her to each member of the senior staff. They each offered her a welcome before the first officer stood and gestured towards the ready room door. "I think we have the perfect place for you to conduct your interviews," he said as he smiled, "right this way." The grin on her face got even bigger; who knew she was going to be allowed in there! Nodding excitedly, Katrina followed the much taller man into the small room. She looked around and took in everything, burning it in her mind. This would likely be the one and only chance she would have at an experience like this. After a moment, she finally moved towards a sofa sitting in one of the corners. "Will this be alright?" she asked as she looked up at him. He had been watching her take it all in, giving her the chance to really feel the power of the room. With a smile, he replied. "Perfect. I'll send in the first victim." The look on his face told her he was joking and she laughed as she nodded. Without a wasted moment, the man left the room and she gathered her wits as best she could. This was the moment she had been waiting for; she had the chance to sit and really see what made each of the officers on the senior staff tick. It was exciting and it was an amazing assignment. She was more than happy it had fallen to her. A moment later, the doors of the room slid open and the first of many officers walked in. Katrina greeted them each as they came and went, spending about fifteen minutes with each of them. The process took a few hours, but now all that was left was the Captain. She saw her day winding down and her time aboard the ship drawing to a close as the almost regal man walked through the doors. As she had the others, she greeted him with a smile and gave him a moment to settle. He took up a spot on the sofa a few feet from her with a mug of warm tea. Content that he was ready, she began the same line of questions again. Before she knew it, she found herself towards the end of the questions, and with an almost sad smile she looked up at the man. "That's all I have, Captain," she said, "I do want to thank you for this opportunity. It's been amazing. You have a very nice ship here." She was almost rambling, and she realized it, so she stopped there and forced her lips closed. "Not a problem," he replied with a warm smile back in her direction, "We do enjoy a change to the daily routine sometimes." Pushing back a piece of her hair that had fallen at some point during the interviews, Katrina nodded. "Everyone was very cooperative and nice," she stated as she tapped a few keys on the padd in her hand. It was a true statement and she was glad that she had gotten the information she had. A few feet away, the Captain nodded and smiled knowingly. "Good. Then perhaps you'd like to do it all over." "What? Why?" Katrina looked up with a very confused look and nearly stuttered the response. The man stood and walked to his desk where he sat his mug down. "There's a get together in our lounge tonight if you'd like to join us," he turned slowly until he faced her again as he spoke, "and perhaps in that environment, you'll get to see everyone as they really are. You know, without the masks of duty." He walked over to her and handed her a padd before giving her another nod. "We'll see you there," he said without waiting for a response. Turning on his heel, he moved back out onto the bridge only to be replaced by her escort. Katrina knew now that it was time to go, but the words of the Captain kept running through her mind. Absentmindedly following the escort, she almost didn't notice she was going anywhere until she could feel the lift start moving. Looking up at the escort, who had been watching her, she grinned, "I guess I get to stay a little longer." With eyes that glowed with childlike excitement, Katrina turned her attention back to the padd as she compiled the information into one file and made room for new. If she was right about what the Captain had said, she was going to need a lot more room for the second time around. --- Commander Kalianna Nicholotti Commanding Officer Starbase 118/USS Victory

((Chief Medical Officer's Office - Deck 500)) ::Life, Eliaan Deron had learned the hard way, had a habit of going in a direction you could never have dreamt. When he thought back to his first day at Starfleet Academy, he had never imagined that this was what fate had in store for him. He would never have expected to fall in love with a Napean doctor on a mercy mission only to have him die; he would not have thought he'd end up serving under his friend Kali Nicholotti who he had trained with; he never expected to fall in love with Kaedyn Tann; never expected to leave Starfleet after the death of a patient only to return as a science officer and be forced into Sickbay again.:: ::Still, none of that was as unexpected as the sight of his partner, newly joined to a Symbiont, with his previous host's son and mother bunking down in his office for the night. He had been glad that Mezan had found it all as strange as he did but had greeted him warmly. This was uncharted territory for everyone but Eliaan loved Kaedyn and wanted to support him during this difficult time and Kaedyn wanted to be near Jilenna's family and to ensure they were kept safe during the emergency.:: ::And so, he found himself lying on a makeshift bed on the floor of his office staring at the ceiling trying to process everything that had happened lately, while Kaedyn and Mezan slept on his couches and baby Janel slept in a cot between them. The lone non-Trill among them, he felt almost as if he were intruding,which he knew was silly since it was his office after all. Despite this, he had no idea what Trill custom suggested in situations like this. He knew that it was taboo for Joined Trill to carry on romantic relationships with partners of previous hosts but could stay friends with the friends of previous hosts. How did their society deal with the families and particularly the young children of former hosts?:: ::As he pondered these questions, sleep evaded him. He had never been someone for who sleep came easily, when he did want to go to sleep his mind would kick into warp speed and he'd start mulling over things deemed too difficult to think about during the day.:: ::After a long time simply staring at the ceiling, he decided to get up and catch up on his mountain of messages. As he did so, he heard a small whimper from the crib and, with a level of trepidation, he approached and looked down at Janel. It was a strange feeling, he felt some responsibility towards this child to which he had no ties and had only just met but if Kaedyn was almost his parent then Eliaan was almost his step-parent.:: ::Janel lay in the crib wriggling, kicking his legs and whimpering a little but not crying. He looked up at Eliaan, who glanced over his shoulder at the two other adults in the room who were both fast asleep. He reached into the crib and lifted him out and as he was hit by a terrible smell, he immediately realised why Janel was unsettled. Deron: Oh dear... Umm, okay. I can totally handle this... ::Resisting the urge to hold the infant at arm's length he walked over to the replicator behind his desk and replicated the items he thought he needed for the procedure. Still holding the baby, he cleared a space on his desk and placed him gently onto it. :: Deron: Don't worry, I'm your... Well... its complicated... but I'm a Starfleet office so I can be trusted and a doctor so you are in safe hands. ::The baby made no response and Eliaan took that as informed consent to have his diaper changed by this stranger.:: Deron: Okay, this can't be too difficult. ::Removing the dirty diaper and cleaning the "patient" wasn't too difficult but as he tried to put the new diaper on he found it much more difficult than he expected. Janel giggled as he failed for the second time to assemble the device around the baby in a manner that both fitted and would remain on him. This, Eliaan muttered, was ridiculous, he was able to perform incredibly delicate surgery but he couldn't do this. The idea of waking Kaedyn or Mezan crossed his mind but then he realised how pathetic he would seem if he couldn't do this.:: ::He made a third attempt and was incredibly relieved that it was successful. Janel began to wriggle and compain again as he lifted him back up and held him against his shoulder.:: Deron: ::soflty:: Shhhh shhhh shhhh ::The baby settled slightly and Eliaan began to pace back and forth, gently bouncing him.:: Deron: I know your mommy is gone. You probably don't understand but I'm sure you miss her. I want you to know that she hasn't gone far and she still loves you very much. ::He smiled realising, perhaps for the first time, how precious this could be and how strong Kaedyn must have been longing to get back to his "son".: Deron: Things are going to be strange for a while and I don't know what's going to happen, I'm afraid. ::The sound of his voice as he spoke softly and the slow movement back and forth behind his desk gently lulled the infant and he began to fall asleep.:: Deron: Don't worry though, you are surrounded by people who love you and we'll work something out ::With Janel finally sleeping and exhaustion threatening to catch up with him, he placed the baby back into his crib and returned to the makeshift bed on the floor.:: Zehn: ::whispering:: Eliaan... ::Not realising Kaedyn was awake, he sat back up with a start.:: Deron: ::whispering:: Yes? Zehn: ::whispering:: I love you Deron: ::smiling:: Love you too -- Lieutenant Eliaan Deron, MD Chief Medical Officer SB118 / USS Victory ~~and~~ Lieutenant (junior grade) Kaedyn Tann Chief Nursing Officer SB118 / USS Victory on medical leave