Alleran Tan

December 12, 2010

Welcome to the fleet! Looking forward to simming with each of you if I get the chance!

December 11, 2010

Man, this is going to be a tough choice. Especially considering I nominated both of them!

I'll give you a hint: UNION!

Also, you apparently have good taste in sims!

December 9, 2010

DARN YOU KANYE!

KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN...YE!

December 1, 2010

I really should not have been drinking coffee when I saw that... Many funnys!

Union's gonna win. That's why it has the biggest trophy.

December 1, 2010

Hmm- I went to vote, but apparently it's a public poll? I thought the polls were all meant to be private...

I don't mind people knowing that I voted for "Union". I mean, a photoshopped copy of KANYE WEST supports it. If that's not endorsement enough, I don't know what is!

December 1, 2010

November 29, 2010

Woohoo! Grats, Dantin-Vex- welcome to the fleet!

If you need help getting set up on the wiki or a character picture, let me know and I'll help set you up!

November 29, 2010

"At the rate science proceeds, rockets and missiles will one day seem like buffalo -- slow, endangered grazers in the black pasture of outer space."

-- Bernard Cooper

*****

2293, in a universe identical to our own... almost.

The woman shuffled the papers in front of her in silence. The crowd before her vast podium stretched out as far as she could see. Above her, a huge holographic representation of herself floated in the air- now, viewers many kilometers away could make out her every gesture.

The crowd elated, begging her to begin.

"We, humans... "

Her voice was impossibly loud, amplified by an impressive audio system which blasted her voice to the masses. They instantly fell silent.

"...went from first powered flight in 1903 to landing on their moon in 1969. In sixty six years, the human race- OUR race!- went from barely reaching out of our cradle... to visiting other worlds."

Silence reigned. Every woman and man attending was enthralled.

"At this rate, scientists predicted humanity would be permanently colonizing the moon by 1984, Mars by 1999 and would have spread through most of the solar system by 2010!"

Another pause. The only sound was the faint breathing of four million people standing in a vast ocean of uniformed flesh, staring intently.

"Was this true? Of course not. Why? Did Humans figure the moon was far enough, then lay down their burdens... rest on their laurels?"

Murmurs of discontent.

"The answer to this question... is obvious! Examining the period in Earth history between 1903 and 1969 will find one constant among the years... war."

ELATION!

The crowd roared as one. War! WAR!

She calmly waited, holding her thin stack of papers. When the time was right she spoke again.

"War inspired humans to leap from cloth-covered biplanes in 1915 to steel-skinned jets only thirty years later. War inspires men to reach greatness- to seek out new ideas. To push the boundaries of the technology beyond what is merely 'acceptable' or 'adequate' and into the fantastic."

The serving men and women below her drank in her every word as though inscribed in stone by a deity.

"Yet... from the end of the 20th century through to much, much later no other celestial body was landed on by humans. What dominated the period of time between 1970 and 2010?" A pause for effect. "... A period of peace. Oh, yes, there were wars and conflicts- but the countries involved were not involved in total war. They did not hurl their energies into the sole business of slaughter."

Murmurs once more. Pleased, elated murmers...

"The operation to destroy Praxis... the filthy moon of the Klingon species... was not successful."

Gasps! Shock! No doubt each of them felt painfully, personally responsible. Had they not put in their very best? That one sick day a year ago, when they were delirious due to fevor... if they had been strong enough to overthrow it, would the operation have succeeded? No more laziness! The human spirit will overcome such things!

"They redouble- quadruple!- their efforts, using Praxis's power to fuel their war effort..."

She held her fist in the air. Four million human beings mimicked the gesture.

"With the Klingon empire posing such a clear and obvious threat, will humanity now, again, rest on their laurels? Will humanity shy away from sacrifice? Will humanity fail to do what is needed?"

The crowd roared again. Too many voices to hear their exact phrasing, but their intention was plain and wordless.

NO.

*****

2387, the edges of Federation space

Captain Ishtar Sabeen sat on the command chair of the USS Apocalyptica, drumming her fingers impatiently along the console. A woman from Syria, Earth, her collar was an olive green and she commanded this ship.

These days, fully forty percent of Starfleet were Marines- whole warships were Marine-only vessels, crewed stem to stern, from Crewman Third Class to Captain, by Starfleet's most highly trained soldiers.

Sabeen's vessel was a Prometheus-II class, an ancient vessel whose retirement date had been and gone. The old rustbucket was nearly a century out of date, but the sheer volumes of the things produced in the last great skirmish with the Klingon Empire meant that nearly ten thousand of the vessels were still in service in the Alpha, Beta and Gamma quadrants. The Prometheus-II class used to be the latest and greatest ships- a grand spectacle. Multi-phasic torpedo banks, over forty type XXVI disrupter banks and the "hull-cracker"; a massive singular beam that could annihilate most ships in one or two strikes.

It used to be very impressive. These days, more of a joke.

"Do you remember when Qo'noS burned, Lau?"

Her Mandarin first officer raised a grey-haired eyebrow, looking down at her curiously.

"Of course," he said, "I remember walking on the ashes of the planet mere hours after the bombardment ceased. I saw our soldiers raise the Federation's flag on the ruins of the high council chambers... not that we should have bothered, it was uninhabitable anyway."

"Mmm," she answered. A pleasant memory. She stroked her lips idly with the tip of her finger. "Then Betazed, then Trill..."

Lau inclined his head thoughtfully. "I thought we scoured Trill first, *then* Betazed... it's hard to keep track of your victories."

They both laughed.

"Filthy alien pigs," she said.

Sabeen glanced down at her armrest, fighting to stifle a yawn.

"So, Lau- what miserable rock is this anyway?"

The man smiled. "I honestly forget... It's on the very outer edges of our claimed space."

The communications officer gave a polite cough. "These... 'Bajorans'... are hailing us again, Captain. They, once again, plead for mercy."

Sabeen nodded her head, thoughtfully. "Right, right. 'Bajor'. When they're taken care of, we're meeting with the rest of the fleet to press on to Cardassia, then onto Romulus, then into Breen territory..."

Lau gave a low chuckle as his confirmation.

Sabeen waved to her tactical officer. The green collared man stiffened his back.

"Lieutenant, fire up the hull-cracker and begin scorching this planet of its unwashed inhabitants. Inform me when the task is complete..." she turned to her first officer, giving a dark smile. "I'm starving. Lunch?"

*****

The two officers politely ate together in the Captain's war room. Live lobsters- the Captain's favourite- were transported by Vulcan slaves to their ship on a daily basis.

The Captain gently twisted the legs off her prize, the shell creaking as they were removed. She sucked out the insides. Ahh...! Exquisite.

"Do you enjoy our work?" Lau asked, watching her as she ate. He was less enthused by white meat, but he was forced to swallow it down. Sure beat field rations.

Sabeen laughed, nodding her head. "Of course! We're serving humanity up here. What if these Bajorans were to rise up like the Klingons? Do you think Klingons so innately infused with the warrior spirit that nobody could equal them?"

Lau pondered this, popping some of the salad into his mouth. "I don't know. They appear to be poets, singers, artists... hardly a threat."

Sabina put down her fork, her dark eyes narrowing dangerously. "Hardly a threat *now*," she retorted, wrinkling her nose in anger. "Even the cutest, timidest little kitten will scratch and bite if provoked enough... and kittens grow up. We must end the threat now, before it challenges us. Don't you remember how much progress the Klingons made when Praxis was established?"

Lau remembered very clearly. "If they were to find another power source like Praxis..."

Sabeen answered only with a snort. That's why they were there- to prevent "what ifs" from occurring.

"Crewman Michaelson had given birth to her sixth child last night," Lau remarked, changing the subject. "A strong baby girl. A shuttle will arrive tomorrow to take the child. She gave her the name Lisa... "

"Is her name really so relevant?" asked Sabeen, smirking and breaking off another leg, "I never name any of my children. I mean, does it matter? They all go to the barracks anyway."

Lau nodded. "Producing soldiers is a woman's duty."

"It is," Sabeen agreed. "And a man's to service her."

The Syrian female reached for the nutcracker, holding out the claw of her meal and shattering the tip. With her forefinger she pushed the meat from the tip of the claw out the larger open end, using a small spoon to dob a brown sauce on the white flesh.

"It's been three months since my last child. I'm due to begin the process again."

Lau raised his eyebrow. "Your fourth?"

"I barely keep track," she answered with a laugh.

Lau nodded. "Will you visit Captain Fraser again?"

Sabeen rolled her shoulders, using her fork to place the claw meat in her mouth. She let it roll on her tongue, savoring the delightful taste.

"Mmm- no, I think not. His vessel is busy cleaning some of the filth away from the neighboring planets to this one."

Lau nodded. Fraser's dedication to duty was admirable. "Perhaps someone from the crew, then? They are bound to serve you, if you wish it."

Sabeen's eyes glinted in the darkness of her war room. "As are you," she remarked, pointing her fork at his chest.

Lau folded his hands in front of him. Sabeen's implication of his next duty was... obvious. He didn't find Sabeen attractive at all, but his duty came before all other things. "I serve the Federation of Nations in whatever task they wish."

Sabeen nodded, reaching up and tossing her hair, then casually unzipping the zip on her green collar. "The Federation requires more soldiers for coming battles. Come- let us serve it, then see how the cleansing of that planet is going... oh, what was it again?"

"Bajor," Lau reminded her, shrugging off his jacket.

*****

An hour later, the Captain and her First Officer returned to the bridge from the Captain's Ready Room. Sabeen threw Lau a glance, breathing a little heavier than normal, a sly grin on her face. "And as of the end of your duty shift, consider yourself confined to my quarters."

"Aye, ma'am." Lau, sweat still on his brow, returned to his chair. He was not looking forward to that particular duty at all.

"Status?" Sabeen asked, placing her hands on her hips.

The tactical officer chuckled lightly. "Their atmosphere ignited as usual," he remarked off-handedly, "This... Bajor... should be exhausting its breathable air presently."

Sabeen gave a nod. "Well done Lieutenant," she remarked, "See to it that your rations are increased for the next twelve days."

The Lieutenant nodded. "My duty is to serve, Captain."

The fires slowly climbed up from Bajor's southern pole, like a hand grasping the planet with fingers of flame. The hull-cracker contained an energy beam so powerful, with heat so intense, it caused a fusion reaction of nitrogen nuclei. Early Terran physicists had worried about such a thing when building their atomic bombs, but their devices were not powerful enough.

The hull-cracker, however, was. This ship may be ancient, but it could still serve.

Sabeen studied the viewscreen, pleased by what she saw. The Bajorans would be practically extinct, soon, and this was good. They would never threaten humanity like the Klingons had done. This was a necessary act... purging their world of life. Their actions were all about the survival of the human race.

The Klingons were the first real threat to the Federation. Their cloaking ships, their physical prowess... only after so many defeats at their hands had the Humans thrown off the shackles of pacifism and embraced a truly militaristic society. Then they had turned the tide. Planet after Klingon planet was reduced to ash, the powerful hull-crackers igniting their atmospheres and burning them dry.

The Klingons offered the Humans no quarter and received none in turn. Their species was wiped from the face of the galaxy, save for a few million slaves, and humanity had learned its valuable lesson.

War necessitated so many things. The suspension of practically all liberties, the communal raising of children in the millions of unnamed military facilities scattered all over the whole Alpha quadrant, compulsory military service... but necessity was the mother of invention. Of technological progress. The Federation of Nations was in perpetual, total war... every edge they could gain against their countless enemies would be a triumph.

This new, brave society was much to their benefit. Humans had conquered over half the galaxy. There were almost a trillion of them scattered throughout most of two quadrants and they bred incessantly, forged vast ships for war and ruthlessly purged the galaxy of any species they could not be bothered to enslave.

Humanity lived under an iron sky- a shield that protected them. Hardened their minds and their bodies against the alien hordes that could threaten them.

Sabeen watched with growing pleasure as Bajor burned. "When the fires have died down, send an assault team down to plant a flag, then let's move on. We have a lot to-"

The tactical officer spoke up.

"Captain- a ship is inbound."

Sabeen turned to him, grinning eagerly. "That would be Captain Fraser. On screen."

A strange sight greeted her. A large cube, green and black, obviously vast in size was rapidly closing in on them at an impossibly high speed. How...?

Lau frowned. "Bajoran defenders, too late to save their planet? I've never seen a vessel of this configuration..."

A voice came through their communication systems. It was a trillion whispering voices overlaid, tainted with the mechanical and sythetic.

"WE ARE THE BORG. LOWER YOUR SHIELDS AND SURRENDER YOUR SHIPS. WE WILL ADD YOUR BIOLOGICAL AND TECHNOLOGICAL DISTINCTIVENESS TO OUR OWN. YOU WILL ADAPT TO-"

Sabeen made a 'throat cutting' gesture with her hand and the communications officer severed the link.

"Turn the hull-cracker on these dogs," she roared, jabbing her finger at the viewscreen. "And inform Starfleet Command we have a new enemy for them to face! Red alert, tactical- fire at will!"

*****

Epilogue: 2391, four years after the assimilation of the Apocalyptica and her crew

Ten thousand vessels dropped out of warp over the course of two days. Ships of every class and make, each painted in the black hue of the Federation.

It was the largest fleet made by the Federation of Nations since the war against the Klingons. Their enemy was vast... a species known as the "Borg" who occupied half the galaxy. They seemed to be invincible. Every time the Federation lost a ship, the Borg gained one. Every time the Federation lost a soldier, the Borg gained one. The Klingons had Praxis, the Borg had transwarp and an unending source of manpower- besting even humans by many, many orders of magnitude.

Admiral Fraser's voice echoed throughout the now assembled fleet. His speech echoed the famous one from history's past, calling humanity to once again throw away the comforts of their lives for the greater good. This enemy was just as the Klingons... another foe to be vanquished. Destroyed. Crushed beneath their heel...

It was the beginning of a long campaign- longer than his natural lifespan, perhaps, but one that was necessary. The human population, now well over a trillion, needed an enemy to fight or it would become complacent.

The Borg were exactly what humanity needed. Admiral Fraser nodded to his first officer, signalling him to move the fleet into Borg space.

For humanity to grow, there must always be war.

November 26, 2010

Woo hoo! Welcome to the fleet!

I've already seen some of Pierce's sims- they are excellent! Looking forward to Thomas's as well!

November 20, 2010

((Starbase 118, Deck 1010, Holosuite )

::Unky translated himself to the holosuite about twenty minutes early; he

wasn't certain if he would encounter any obstacles getting through the

starbase's systems, and it simply wouldn't do to have the Lieutenant

Commander see him appear. Far too many awkward questions to answer that

way. He set the holosuite to mimic a laboratory setup, the better to excuse

his not leaving when she did, and settled down at a lab table looking busy

until she arrived. He stuck with the same blue shirt he'd projected on the

call, with added trousers and his usual white lab coat. When she did

arrive, a couple of minutes before the prearranged time, he stood and smiled

at her warmly. She stepped forward, her demeanour uncertain.::

MacKenna: ::with a smile that was obviously pasted on for his benefit::

Hello...uh....Katy's uncle.

::He met her false smile with his most relaxed and easygoing one.::

Unky: Call me Hayt. It's a pleasure to meet you.

MacKenna: Oh ah...Nice to meet you then. ::She shifted her weight

uncomfortably.::

::He mentally sized her up. Plenty of intelligence behind those eyes. No

shortage of strength, either. She gave the impression of a banked fire;

smouldering for the moment but ready to flare to life when needed. Unky

decided that he liked her.::

Unky: I'm terribly sorry; this must seem very odd to you. As I mentioned,

Katy was going to ask you herself, but... needs must when the devil drives,

eh?

::She didn't seem impressed. Unky sighed inwardly. No one appreciated a

good turn of phrase nowadays.::

MacKenna: So um, what's this project that Katy has going?

::Unky sat back down onto his lab stool and motioned for Ash to sit as

well. He picked up a PADD (he'd been pleased to find that the holosuite

came with a replicator, saving him the inconvenience of explaining why he

needed a PADD delivered) and used it to gesture as he spoke.::

Unky: The purpose of the project is... well, it's to create something that

Katy needs. ::He didn't elaborate on that; best to let her assume that the

equations she would be doing would be for a computer model or somesuch.:: I

don't really want to elaborate any more than that. I'm sure she'll fill you

in if you ask, but it's not my place. What you'll be doing is maths. Very

complex and unusual maths; it's a sort of base-six modelling mapped onto

eleven dimensions. ::He handed her the PADD:: The equations are on there.

You'll find it's strange, as it doesn't use the Hindu-Arabic numerals you're

used to, but rather a set of intonations that represent 0-5 in each

dimension, sixty-six in all. Well, sixty-seven, really, but that one's just

a modifier for fractal dimensions, not really a numeral itself. ::He

glanced at her, hiding a smile; her interest in the maths seemed to be

overriding her bewilderment about their nature. He could relate to that.::

The first section is basically a primer; I suspect you'll recognise the

mathematical logic very quickly. After which you begin the actual project.

Now, this is important - First, don't try to convert them to any other

numeral system or any other base in your head. If you do, problems will

creep in no matter how accurate you are. Stick to the intonations, either

vocalised or mentally sounded. You can note down solutions in any format

you like, however, to help remember them from session to session. Second,

don't use a computer of any sort to help with the solving... if an abacus

would help you, though, feel free. Third, and perhaps most importantly,

don't use this system of maths for ANYTHING else. It's designed for a

specific purpose, and only to be used for that purpose. ::he looked

thoughtful for a moment:: In point of fact, if you could avoid even

describing it to anyone other than Katy or myself, I would take it as a

great favour. This sort of maths really isn't something that would be good

for your culture... any of the cultures in your galaxy, really... to have at

this point. ::He gave her his most winning smile to try to counter the

strangeness, the smile practically identical to Katy's--as it should be, she

having picked it up from him--and it seemed to work. Either that, or the

prospect of tackling strange new equations was enough motivation for the

young woman to ignore all manner of strangeness.:: I project it will be

about thirty hours of solving. If taken in four hour shifts, that's about a

week. Are you up for that?

MacKenna: Well, I don't mind doing it. ::glancing down at the PADD as though

wondering how it had gotten into her hands:: I'll get started tomorrow if

that's ok.

Unky: Absolutely perfect. I'm immensely grateful, and I know Katy is as

well.

MacKenna: Alright. ::She turned, then turned back in afterthought:: Oh, so

do I give this to Katy when it's done, or is there a way to reach you?

Unky: ::smiling gently:: Katy will know when it's done. You don't need to

return the PADD at all; in fact, I'd appreciate it if you deleted the

information when you're done and recycle the PADD completely.

MacKenna: Sure. Uh...bye. ::She waved a goodbye, clearly feeling awkward,

and left.::

::Unky watched the doors for a while after they closed, wondering if he'd

just handed a blaster to an australopithecine. Not Ash herself, but he had

no confidence that the Federation would use the technology well if she let

it slip somehow.::

oO I suppose I shouldn't worry. Other than MacKenna, I can think of only

one or two people in Starfleet who could tackle those equations. And I

think one of them was already snatched up by that fellow from Tau Alpha C.

Still... Oo

::He shrugged. What would happen, would happen, and he would deal with the

consequences. It was necessary that Katy receive this protection if she was

to be ready for what was to come.::

oO And if it makes her more confident and less frightened of that betazoid

fellow in the meantime, so much the better. Oo

::He snapped his fingers and the scene around him abruptly changed. He was

still on a stool, but now it was in an artist's garret. Light filtered in

through the window, illuminating dust motes on the way to its destination -

an easel with a blank canvas. He picked up a pallette of acrylics and a

broad brush and began to paint. As always, he started painting with no

picture in mind, and as always, the image that formed under the brush was

the face of a woman; blonde, bold of feature, with eyes full of equal

measures of humour and determination. It took him about two hours to

finish, during which his only thoughts were on brush strokes, lighting,

outline, blending... when he finished, he set the brush and easel gently

down and regarded the painting with a still, quiet longing. The pain in his

eyes as he stared at the woman whose name he could not even frame in his

mind was so acute that it seemed more real than the face it existed on. For

perhaps ten minutes he sat like that, perfectly still. Then with a grimace

and another slap of his fingers, the holosuite shut down, leaving nothing

but an empty room.::

PNPC Unky

USS Victory

November 20, 2010

((Tyriden's Quarters, USS Independence-A))

::Going through the list of names of personnel working in the science department for the umpteenth time, he rubbed his tired eyes. He fell backwards onto his firm bed, gazing blankly at the ceiling.::

Tyriden: oO I wonder if I am allowed to choose who works with me in my sub-department.. Oo

::He went through the list of names once again. He realized he was merely stalling, and heaved a sigh. Forcing himself out of bed, he walked to the computer console and sat down in front of it. He drummed his fingers atop the

desk.::

Tyriden: Computer, please open a secure communications channel to Earth. Buenos Aires. Mr and Mrs Frederick.

Computer: ::after a brief pause and customary chirp:: Secure communications channel now open.

::The screen went black for a fraction of a second and when it came on again, a seated elderly couple was smiling back at him.::

Tyriden: Hello, Mother. Hello, Father. ::He felt his heart swell.::

Mrs Frederick: Hello, Tyriden! How are you? It's nice of you to call us.

Mr Frederick: We weren't expecting you to call us back so soon. Is everything all right?

Tyriden: Everything is all right. How have you been, Father, Mother? Is Dr Braden paying you regular housecalls?

Mrs Frederick: Oh, he's just a darling, that man! Even when we told him we feel absolutely fine, he still insisted on continuing his housecalls till you returned.

Mr Frederick: ::cheekily:: I think Dr Braden only comes back often because he's fond of your Mother's home-baked shortbread. Not that we mind.

::Mrs Frederick elbowed her silver-haired strapping husband in the ribs.::

Mrs Frederick: Oh, Charles!

Tyriden: It is reassuring to know you are both in good health and well looked after.

Mr Frederick: How's everyone treating you, Tyriden? They giving you a tough time for your absence?

Tyriden: Not at all, Father. My shipmates have been most welcoming and understanding. ::He recalled fondly the conversation he had had with Lt JG Sudra just the other day.:: LtCmdr Ehlanii is now the chief of science. She is putting me and Lt JG Sudra in charge of a sub-department each. I am looking forward to this new responsibility.

Mrs Frederick: That's wonderful news, Tyriden! It'll give you ample time to work on that alien spider report.

Mr Frederick: They were insects, Lucy-Ann. Not spiders.

Mrs Frederick: ::rolling her eyes:: What's the difference? They're all bugs anyway.

Mr Frederick: ::mocking frustration:: Tell your mother spiders ain't insects, Tyriden.

Tyriden: Technically, spiders are arachnids which are made up of a cephalothorax and an abdomen, whereas insects are made up of three distict parts---

Mrs Frederick: Oh, do be careful out there, Tyriden! Who knows what these... insects are capable of?

Tyriden: I am always, Mother... ::His smile quickly faded.:: Has there been any development in the investigations? Have the authorities found a lead?

::Tyriden's foster parents paused momentarily before exchanging glances. Finally, Mr Frederick spoke.::

Mr Frederick: ::exasperation evident in his voice:: They've been calling us less and less often. Nothing substantial so far... I think we all know where this is going to lead.

Mrs Frederick: Your father and I just want to forget this horrid incident and retreat to the mountains. We have land there we could work on, keep ourselves busy. Buy a couple of horses, some sheep, chickens. I believe we'd truly be happy there, Tyriden.

Tyriden: ::trying to hide the anger stirring in his heart:: Are you sure that that is a wise decision? What about justice?

Mr Frederick: Family takes precedence over everything else. And that includes justice. I know you won't understand all this right now, Tyriden, but one day you'll realize that it can the best decision to just walk away from a situation. One day you will.

::The Andorian was thankful that his foster parents could not see his hands under the desk, for they were balled into tight fists.::

======================

Lt JG Tyriden th'Dani

Science Officer

USS INDEPENDENCE-A

with

Mr & Mrs Frederick

Tyriden's foster parents

as simmed by

Lt JG Tyriden th'Dani

November 10, 2010

A draft of my submission is up!

It needs more work, but it's there!

November 9, 2010

"At the rate science proceeds, rockets and missiles will one day seem like buffalo -- slow, endangered grazers in the black pasture of outer space."

-- Bernard Cooper

*****

2321, in a universe identical to our own... save one little moon.

The woman shuffled the papers in front of her in silence. The crowd before her vast podium stretched out as far as she could see. Above her, a huge holographic representation of herself floated in the air- now, viewers many kilometers away could make out her every gesture.

The crowd elated, begging her to begin.

"We, humans... "

Her voice was impossibly loud, amplified by an impressive audio system which blasted her voice to the masses. They instantly fell silent.

"...went from first powered flight in 1903 to landing on their moon in 1969. In sixty six years, the human race- OUR race!- went from barely reaching out of our cradle... to visiting other worlds."

Silence reigned. Every woman and man attending was enthralled.

"At this rate, scientists predicted humanity would be permanently colonizing the moon by 1984, Mars by 1999 and would have spread through most of the solar system by 2010!"

Another pause. The only sound was the faint breathing of four million people standing in a vast ocean of uniformed flesh, staring intently.

"Was this true? Of course not. Why? Did Humans figure the moon was far enough, then lay down their burdens... rest on their laurels?"

Murmurs of discontent.

"The answer to this question... is obvious! Examining the period in Earth history between 1903 and 1969 will find one constant among the years... war."

ELATION!

The crowd roared as one. War! WAR!

She calmly waited, holding her thin stack of papers. When the time was right she spoke again.

"War inspired humans to leap from cloth-covered biplanes in 1915 to steel-skinned jets only thirty years later. War inspires men to reach greatness- to seek out new ideas. To push the boundaries of the technology beyond what is merely 'acceptable' or 'adequate' and into the fantastic."

The serving men and women below her drank in her every word as though inscribed in stone by a deity.

"Yet... from the end of the 20th century through to much, much later no other celestial body was landed on by humans. What dominated the period of time between 1970 and 2010?" A pause for effect. "... A period of peace. Oh, yes, there were wars and conflicts- but the countries involved were not involved in total war. They did not hurl their energies into the sole business of slaughter."

Murmurs once more. Pleased, elated murmers...

She held her fist in the air. Four million human beings mimicked the gesture.

"With the Klingon empire posing such a clear and obvious threat, will humanity now, again, rest on their laurels?"

The crowd roared again. Too many voices to hear their words, but their intention was plain and wordless.

NO.

*****

2387, the edges of Federation space

Captain Ishtar Sabeen sat on the command chair of the USS Apocalyptica, drumming her fingers impatiently along the console. A woman from Syria, Earth, her collar was an olive green and she commanded this ship.

These days, fully forty percent of Starfleet were Marines- whole warships were Marine-only vessels, crewed stem to stern, from Crewman Third Class to Captain, by Starfleet's most highly trained soldiers.

Sabeen's vessel was a Prometheus-II class, an ancient vessel whose retirement date had been and gone. The old rustbucket was nearly a century out of date, but the sheer volumes of the things produced in the last great skirmish with the Klingon Empire meant that nearly ten thousand of the vessels were still in service in the Alpha, Beta and Gamma quadrants. The Prometheus-II class used to be the latest and greatest ships- a grand spectacle. Multi-phasic torpedo banks, over forty type XXVI disrupter banks and the "hull-cracker"; a massive singular beam that could annihilate most ships in one or two strikes.

It used to be very impressive. These days, more of a joke.

"Do you remember when Qo'noS burned, Lau?"

Her Mandarin first officer raised a grey-haired eyebrow, looking down at her curiously.

"Of course," he said, "I remember walking on the ashes of the planet mere hours after the bombardment ceased. I saw our soldiers raise the Federation's flag on the ruins of the high council chambers... not that we should have bothered, it was uninhabitable anyway."

"Mmm," she answered. A pleasant memory. "Then Betazed, then Trill..."

Lau inclined his head thoughtfully. "I thought we scoured Trill first, *then* Betazed... it's hard to keep track of your victories."

They both laughed.

"Filthy alien pigs," she said.

Sabeen glanced down at her armrest, fighting to stifle a yawn.

"So, Lau- what miserable rock is this anyway?"

The man smiled. "I honestly forget... It's on the very outer edges of our claimed space."

The communications officer gave a polite cough. "The Bajorans are hailing us again, Captain. They, once again, plead for mercy."

Sabeen nodded her head, thoughtfully. "Right, right. Bajor. Then we're meeting with the rest of the fleet to press on to Cardassia, then onto Romulus, then into Breen territory..."

Lau gave a low chuckle as his confirmation.

Sabeen waved to her tactical officer. The green shirted man saluted.

"Lieutenant, fire up the hull-cracker and begin scorching this planet of its unwashed inhabitants. Inform me when the task is complete..." she turned to her first officer, giving a dark smile. "Lobster?"

*****

The two officers politely ate together in the Captain's war room. Live lobsters- the Captain's favourite- were transported by Vulcan slaves to their ship on a daily basis.

The Captain gently twisted the legs off her prize, the shell creaking as they were removed. She sucked out the insides. Ahh...!

"Crewman Michaelson had given birth to her sixth child last night," Lau remarked, "A strong baby girl. A shuttle will arrive tomorrow to take the child. She gave her the name Lisa... "

"Is her name really so relevant?" asked Sabeen, smirking and breaking off another leg, "I never name any of my children. I mean, does it matter? They all go to the barracks anyway."

Lau nodded. "Producing soldiers is a woman's duty."

"It is," Sabeen agreed. "And a man's to service her."

The Syrian reached for the nutcracker, holding out the claw of her meal and shattering the tip. With her forefinger she pushed the meat from the tip of the claw out the larger open end, using a small spoon to dob a brown sauce on the white flesh.

"It's been three months since my last child. I'm due to begin the process again."

Lau [...]ed his eyebrow. "Your fourth?"

"I barely keep track," she answered with a laugh.

Lau nodded. "Will you use Captain Fraser again?"

Sabeen rolled her shoulders, using her fork to place the claw meat in her mouth. She let it roll on her tongue, savoring the delightful taste.

"Mmm- no. His vessel is busy cleaning some of the filth away from the neighboring planets to this one."

Lau nodded. Fraser's dedication to duty was admirable. "Perhaps someone from the crew, then? They are bound to serve you, if you wish it."

Sabeen's eyes glinted in the darkness of her war room. "As are you," she remarked.

Lau folded his hands in front of him. Sabeen's implication of his next duty was... obvious. "I serve the Federation of Nations in whatever task they wish."

Sabeen nodded, reaching up and tossing her hair, then casually unzipping the zip on her green collar. "The Federation requires more soldiers for coming battles. Come- let us serve it, then see how the cleansing of that planet is going... oh, what was it again?"

"Bajor," Lau reminded her, shrugging off his jacket.

*****

An hour later, the Captain and her First Officer returned to the bridge.

"Status?" Sabeen asked, breathing a little heavier than normal. She placed her hands on her hips. Lau, sweat still on his brow, returned to his chair.

The tactical officer chuckled lightly. "Their atmosphere ignited as usual," he remarked off-handedly, "This... Bajor... should be exhausting its breathable air presently."

Sabeen gave a nod. "Well done Lieutenant," she remarked, "See to it that your rations are increased for the next twelve days." She studied him for a moment, a sly grin on her face. "And as of the end of your duty shift, consider yourself confined to my quarters."

The Lieutenant nodded. He did not find Sabeen attractive at all, but that was irrelevant. The Federation needed soldiers. "My duty is to serve, Captain."

The fires slowly climbed up from Bajor's southern pole, like a hand grasping the planet with fingers of flame. The hull-cracker contained an energy beam so powerful, with heat so intense, it caused a fusion reaction of nitrogen nuclei. Early Terran physicists had worried about such a thing when building their atomic bombs, but their devices were not powerful enough.

The hull-cracker, however, was. This ship may be ancient, but it could still serve.

Sabeen studied the viewscreen, pleased by what she saw. The Bajorans would be practically extinct, soon, and this was good. They would never threaten humanity like the Klingons had done.

The Klingons were the first real threat to the Federation. Their cloaking ships, their physical prowess... only after so many defeats at their hands had the Humans thrown off the shackles of pacifism and embraced a truly militaristic society. Then they had turned the tide. Planet after Klingon planet was reduced to ash, the powerful hull-crackers igniting their atmospheres and burning them dry.

The Klingons offered the Humans no quarter and received none in turn. Their species was wiped from the face of the galaxy, save for a few million slaves, and humanity had learned its valuable lesson.

War necessitated so many things. The suspension of practically all liberties, the communal raising of children in the millions of unnamed military facilities scattered all over the whole Alpha quadrant, compulsory military service... but necessity was the mother of invention. Of technological progress. The Federation of Nations was in perpetual, total war... every edge they could gain against their countless enemies would be a triumph.

This new, brave society was much to their benefit. Humans had conquered over half the galaxy. There were almost a trillion of them scattered throughout most of two quadrants and they bred incessantly, forged vast ships for war and ruthlessly purged the galaxy of any species they could not be bothered to enslave.

Humanity lived under an iron sky- a shield that protected them. Hardened their minds and their bodies against the alien hordes that could threaten them.

Sabeen watched with growing pleasure as Bajor burned. "When the fires have died down, send an assault team down to plant a flag, then let's move on. We have a lot to-"

The tactical officer spoke up.

"Captain- a ship is inbound."

Sabeen turned to him, grinning eagerly. "That would be Captain Fraser. On screen."

A strange sight greeted her. A large cube, green and black, obviously vast in size was rapidly closing in on them at an impossibly high speed. How...?

Lau frowned. "Bajoran defenders, too late to save their planet? I've never seen a vessel of this configuration..."

A voice came through their communication systems. It was a trillion whispering voices overlaid, tainted with the mechanical and sythetic.

"WE ARE THE BORG. LOWER YOUR SHIELDS AND SURRENDER YOUR SHIPS. WE WILL ADD YOUR BIOLOGICAL AND TECHNOLOGICAL DISTINCTIVENESS TO OUR OWN. YOU WILL ADAPT TO-"

Sabeen made a 'throat cutting' gesture with her hand and the communications officer severed the link.

"Turn the hull-cracker on these dogs," she roared, jabbing her finger at the viewscreen. "And inform Starfleet Command we have a new enemy for them to face! Red alert, tactical- fire at will!"

*****

Epilogue: 2391, four years after the assimilation of the Apocalyptica and her crew

Ten thousand vessels dropped out of warp over the course of two days. Ships of every class and make, each painted in the black hue of the Federation.

It was the largest fleet made by the Federation of Nations since the war against the Klingons. Their enemy was vast... a species known as the Borg. They seemed to be invincible. Every time the Federation lost a ship, the Borg gained one. Every time the Federation lost a soldier, the Borg gained one.

Admiral Fraser's voice echoed throughout the now assembled fleet. His speech echoed the famous one from history's past, calling humanity to once again throw away the comforts of their lives for the greater good. This enemy was just as the Borg... another foe to be vanquished. Destroyed. Crushed beneath their heel...

It was the beginning of a long campaign- longer than his natural lifespan, perhaps, but one that was necessary. The human population, now well over a trillion, needed an enemy to fight or it would become complacent.

The Borg were exactly what humanity needed. Admiral Fraser nodded to his first officer, signalling him to move the fleet into Borg space.

For humanity to grow, there must always be war.

November 8, 2010

Riley: Very good...::She raised her voice so she could be heard above the noise

level of the room.:: Okay, who wants to be the first talent show contestant?

:: Luna, almost bursting from the excitement of the moment, couldn't help

herself and jumped up, almost dislodging her hat. ::

Walker: I will! Ah…that is…I can.

Riley: Ah, brave souls indeed...Please tell us your name and what you'll be

doing for the record.

::The Terran/Deltan Captain grinned as she watched the crewmembers reaction.::

Walker: I'm Luna Walker, and I'll be doing an interpretation of an old time

Terran flat holo. (Ie. Movie)

:: Luna wondered what the Marine Captain was whispering, but drove it out of her

mind. ::

Riley: Okay, we're all ears...::She made a graceful motion with her hand.::

Please regale us with your wonderful talent.

Walker: Thank you. :: Facing the audience, she whipped off her cloak and cap

revealing fighting leathers and a long thin sword at her hip. Her normally pink

hair had been dyed black and fell down past her shoulders. She waited until the

audience stilled before throwing a piece of rope off stage, then pulling a man,

covered in black leathers and wearing a black cloth mask gasping onto the stage.

Clearly winded, he still pulled the sword at his hip out. ::

((OOC: for those who know Ben Walker, it is his voice and body))

Walker: No, catch your breath. The climb was hard.

ManInBlack: Thank you again.

:: As the man in black pulled off his boot, several pebbles fell out and his

breathing evened. ::

Walker: Pardon me, but are you Romulan Tal'Shiar?

:: The man in black revealed rounded ears as he pulled back his mask slightly.

Luna sighed::

ManInBlack: A strange question. Do you ask everyone?

Walker: No. You see, when I was younger a Romulan Tal'Shiar killed my father.

I tried to defend his honor, but I was young and I failed. But I trained from

that day forward, so the next time, I will no fail. I will look him in the eye

and I will say. `Ello, my name is Luna Walker, you killed my father…prepare to

die.

ManInBlack: So you've devoted your life to swordplay and revenge?

Walker: Well initially, but it's been a long time, and I've not been able to

find them. Plus engineering keeps falling apart.

:: She kept her face in character despite the laughter she could hear from the

audience::

:: The man stood up, pulling the sword out with his left hand. ::

Walker: Are you ready?

ManInBlack: Ready or not, you've been more than fair.

Walker: You seem like a decent fellow, I hate to kill you.

ManInBlack: You seem like a decent woman, I'd hate to die.

:: At the words, the two swords clashed, ringing back and forth between the two.

Initially they ranged across the stage, but soon they moved into the audience,

jumping from the stage to the first row, as some audience members dodged out of

their way. ::

Walker: I see you are using the Ferengi offensive style.

ManInBlack: It seemed to make the most sense considering the tavern terrain.

Walker: Unless you know Klingon bar brawling. :: She flipped behind the man::

Which I do!

:: Despite her jump, the Man in Black forced her back to the stage, his sword

against hers. ::

Walker: I admit it, you are better than I am.

ManInBlack: Then why are you smiling.

Walker: Because I know something you don't know.

ManInBlack: And what's that?

Walker: I'm Half Romulan!

::Shoving the human back with her superior strength, she quickly took more

control of the battle, driving him back. In moments it was clear the advantage

was hers. ::

ManInBlack: You are much better than I, but I have a secret too.

Walker: What, that you aren't left handed?

ManInBlack: No, that I cheat!

:: His right hand produced a phaser as blue light flashed toward Luna. Even

weakened as it was for the show, she felt herself get dizzy and went with it,

collapsing onto the stage. ::

:: The lights dimmed for a moment while she cleared her head. Giving herself

time to recover she spoke to the audience::

Walker: Luna, having been defeated by the Man in Black, went back to join her

comrades. Comrades who, after much trouble, led her to the Romulan Tal'Shiar

she was searching for. And there he is!

:: She made a show of running off the stage, as moments after her departure a

Romulan carrying a sword and wearing a doublet ran on. A devious look came onto

his face and he pulled a dagger from his boot. As Luna entered the stage, he

threw it, striking her in the belly. ::

:: As the dagger entered, Luna realized something was wrong. The safeties were

off! She'd not checked the calibration. Gritting her teeth, she stuck to the

script. She knew the location she was hit was painful, but not immediately life

threatening. She sunk to her knees::

Walker: I'm sorry Father, I failed you.

Romulan: Is this the little brat I taught a lesson to all those years ago?

You've spent your whole life chasing me, only to fail now? How delicious.

:: Luna forced herself up, leaning heavily on a chair as she pulled the dagger

out, green blood spilled from the wound as she held her stomach with her left

hand. ::

Romulan: You've got an overdeveloped sense of vengeance, someday it will be the

death of you.

:: He moved forward preparing to deliver the final thrust. ::

:: He thrust, but found his sword shifted to Luna's right arm. She clenched her

teeth as she felt the blade enter, but kept her concentration. The Romulan's

sword thrust came again, and she was able to divert it to her left arm. The

Romulan, visibly furious thrust in again only to meet her blade and be driven

back. ::

:: Luna stood, feeling the rage again that she'd pushed aside at her father's

murder, the reason that she identified so strongly with this scene. ::

Walker: `Ello, My name is Luna Walker, you keeled my father, prepare to die.

:: As she said the words, she fell heavily against a table. The Romulan, seeing

her weakness drove in, only to be driven back by another flurry from her sword.

::

Walker: :: Louder:: `ello! My name is Luna Walker, You keeled my father, prepare

to die!

Romulan: Stop saying that!

:: Having driven the Romulan back, she matched the thrusts he'd done to both of

her arms. ::

Walker: Promise me money, and power too, promise that.

Romulan: All that I have and more.

:: She slashed the sides of his face, enough to cause green blood to drip down

the sides of his face::

Walker: Promise me everything I want.

Romulan: Anything, I'll give you anything you want.

Walker: I want my FATHER back you son of beech. ((OOC: And once more bad

accents save the day!))

:: She thrust the sword deep into the Romulan, then watched as the dead agent

slid to the floor. She held her stomach and staggered off stage before

reappearing moments later. Standing next to her were the Man In Black, his mask

off revealing Ben Walker, and a Romulan still bleeding.::

Walker: Th..thank you for your viewing of this interpret…tation. :: She tapped

a button on her belt as the stage was revealed to go farther out than it had

appeared, and the Romulan and Ben disappeared. :: And thanks to Twilight's Edge

for allowing me to install some holo emitters.

:: She bowed, painfully but keeping her composure, then left the stage. ::

Ensign Luna Walker

Engineering

USS Independence

November 8, 2010

*Lt. Commander Karynn Ehlanii - Triumphant Resolution*

((Twilight’s Edge, Deep Space 17))

::The Haliian placed the decorated wooden case on the edge of the stage and

opened it, gently pulling out the instrument inside. Quietly she sealed her

lips around the mouthpiece and blew in, her air moving tonelessly and almost

soundlessly through the instrument, her breath warming the wood up.::

::As the three left the stage, Karynn climbed the steps herself, the long

skirt of her dress shimmering and swishing as she moved. As she reached the

top step and began crossing the stage, she picked up a music stand that was

placed off to the side and carried it with her. Soon she was standing,

looking out at the faces looking back from the dimly-lit crowd. She could

feel her stomach jump ever so slightly. With a deep breath, she willed her

nervous energy to settle and smiled gently at the Captain.::

Ehlanii: Well, I’m sure most people here know me by now, but for those who

don’t, I’m Karynn Ehlanii. I’ll be playing a Haliian version of a flute,

called a tiikon malu. The song I’ll be playing is one from my childhood.

::The bright stage lights shined fown, warming her bare arms and shoulder.

The Haliian placed her PADD on the stand and positioned it. Placing her

foot on the base, she pulled the platform up until it sat at the right

height. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and began to play.::

::The airy but rich mid-ranged notes began to fill the space as the Haliian

folk song began. Her fingers moved slowly over the keyless

flute's openings, the melody winding it's way around the register. Although

she had the music in front of her, she kept her eyes closed. It was a tune

she had known since childhood, and in her mind she could still hear her

mother singing it.::

::There was a slight pause as the opening section, the initial melodic

statement ended. Opening her eyes to read the music, she pushed air across

the mouthpiece causing the rich tones of the Haliian instrument to sound

again. As she started again, the notes moved faster in a playful variation

on the initial theme. From time to time a rapid run raced up the flute's

register before returning back to the home melody. As one of these runs

finished she added a brief trill, a small fanciful flourish ringing out to

bring the variation to a close.::

::After a momentary pause and breath, Karynn began the next section. This

variation on the initial theme was in the minor key, the melody becoming

haunting, plaintive, slower than the last. This part had always touched

Karynn's heart, reminding her of several sad, even painful situations from

her own life. But what she liked about it was the hope she could hear

shining through the sorrow.::

::The rich tones sang out, resounding through the space. Karynn added a

slow vibrato to the longest notes, finally ending on a sustained tone that

hung in the air, leaving the audience with a desire for resolution. After a

pause, she provided that with the first note of the final variation.::

::This last was slightly slower than the first, although the tempo had

increased a bit. The notes sang out in triumphant victory, a striking

contrast to what she had just played. The key had changed again, now back

to the home of the initial melody, which in this variation was again

occupying a more central, prominent place. The sustained notes were

jubilant, preceded from time to time by grace notes, and connected by a

string of stately powerful tones.::

::As she finished the piece, the final pitch resounded, almost echoing even

after she stopped playing before giving way to silence. As she lowered her

flute, the applause began. She bowed slightly, and as the Haliian rose, she

searched the faces of the croud, finally catching Ethan's eye. Her

contented smile brightened ever so slightly before she moved to vacate the

stage for the next act.::

Lt. Cmdr. Karynn Ehlanii

Second Officer/CSO*

USS-Independence-A*

November 8, 2010

(( Aeroshuttle, USS Victory ))

Kidora: Tressa?

:: Tressa stirred... at least she thought she did... ::

Kidora: Tressa? My little B it's time to wake now...

:: Tressa opened her eyes slowly; but was greeted by darkness. She frowned and

attempted to move a hand in front of her face to check her vision, but found she

couldn't move. She tried to look down but couldn't. There was nothing. Only a

sense of existing and fear; she was afraid. ::

Tressa: :: Trying to look around :: Kid?

:: The woman seemed to appear out of the darkness, materialising in front of

her. The older Gideon woman looked at her with compassion in her speckled eyes,

so very much like Tressa's. She reached out and cupped Tressa's face with one

hand, looking at her comfortingly. ::

:: Tressa didn't feel the touch... there was no sense of feeling, just knowing.

She knew Kid was touching her, but couldn't feel it, only sense, only know. It

was an unfamiliar feeling, an unfamiliar sense... ::

Tressa: Kid, where are we?

Kidora: A better question, my little B, is where are you? :: She let her hand

drop. ::

Tressa: :: Shaking her head :: I... I don't understand... I'm... I don't know...

::She tried to look around again... there was only darkness :: I'm... here?

Kidora: What do you remember? Before here?

:: Tressa frowned... before... the shuttle. The Areoshuttle, the warbird, the

freighter, the Victory, Ensign Eisaran... the memories came flooding back. No

sooner had her mind touched on the memory of the aeroshuttle than the darkness

lifted, flitting away like it was blown away by an unfelt breeze. As the

darkness fled the Areoshuttle [...]pit came into view. Tressa frowned; she was in

the [...]pit, staring at the back of the seats, the viewscreen in front of them.

::

Tressa: Kid.. I... I was here. :: As soon as she recalled that part of the

memory, a copy of herself materialised in the seat she had been seated in. It

was strange seeing herself from another view. :: We were... Ensign Eisaran... ::

The second Ensign faded into view in the seat beside her other self. :: Kid...

:: Her voice choked on the words.::

:: As she replayed the events in her mind the images around her played. The

contact alarm, the warbird, the first shock, her desperate attempt to contact

the Victory, the console explosion, the burning, her body crashing into the

bulkhead; she couldn't look away from the events. The vibe around her seemed to

change. She could feel the shuttle. As though she were back there again. ::

:: Tressa's eyes misted, she was crying... and yet she wasn't. There was the

sense of tears falling, of the sensation of crying, but she couldn't feel the

tears; they just weren't there. ::

Tressa: I'm... I'm unconscious... :: She tried to look to Kidora, but

once again couldn't move. The woman appeared to move into her view anyway. ::

... Kid... You're not here. Are you?

Kidora: :: Shaking her head :: I'm sorry my little B, but no. I'm a part of your

subconscious. A projection by you.

:: More sadness, mingle with fear, uncertainty... so many feelings... more

tears. Kidora moved towards her and Tressa had the sensation of arms around her,

warmth, comfort. ::

Kidora: You know I would be here if I could.

:: Tressa felt she was being held. Kidora was behind her, her arms around her.

It was comforting... but at the same time... ::

Tressa: :: Sadness ringing in her voice :: Your not really here. You're just my

imagination...

Kidora: :: A thoughtful tone in her voice :: No, I'm not really here... But the

fact that that you brought me here, must mean something.

Tressa: I don't know. You're in my head, you figure it out.

Kidora: :: Smirking. :: Sulking won't help, my little B. How do you feel now?

:: Tressa hadn't seen the smirking expression, but she knew. She knew Kid so

well. ::

Tressa: How do I feel? I- :: She paused :: I... feel scared, Kid. :: Her eyes

fell on the crumpled form of her own body by the bulkhead. ::

:: Tressa began to sob, her eyes closing as the sadness overwhelmed her, she

blocked out the sight of her body, the Aeroshuttle [...]pit. The arms around her

tightened as Kid's voice began to hum a gentle tune. It was familiar to her, but

at the same time, Tressa didn't really know it. The sound soothed her, and soon

the sound of Kid's humming was complemented with the sounds of instruments as a

memory stirred. It was recent, new, the vibe, the atmosphere, around her changed

as she slowly remembered where the song was from. ::

:: Tressa opened her eyes slowly, Kid continued to hum, the music grew louder as

the memory became stronger. The Aeroshuttle was gone now, replaced by Jaxx's

quarters. She was eating dinner with him, the music... ::

Tressa: Do you know this tune?

Kidora: No. You know I hate classical stuff. :: She paused :: This music soothes

you, this memory.

Tressa: :: Her eyes on the Betazoid man seated at the table. :: I liked it; it

has such a comforting, haunting melody.

Kidora: And you have returned here, to this memory because you need that

comfort.

:: Tressa didn't say anything to that. It made sense, having the projection of

Kid there helped her nerves, the memory of the dinner, the music... all so

comforting.

Kidora: He was there for you when I wasn't. When I couldn't be there.

:: Again Tressa said nothing. She merely watched the Jaxx sitting at the table,

watched as he looked at the Tressa sitting with him, and gave her that look of

comfort, of reassurance, that no matter what, we get better. She remembered it

so clearly, knew that just seconds before that she had admitted her fear for

Chailess' safety on the Starbase, her pain at James' sudden departure... James.

::

Tressa: :: Not taking her eyes off Jaxx. :: He's not here.

Kidora: He left you. :: It was a simple statement. :: No warning, no mention,

no note. Just left.

Tressa: You know, if Jaxx hadn't done this I would have spent the night crying

over James. :: Her lip curled :: How sad, pathetic... if I die... that's what my

last night would have been.

Kidora: But it wasn't.

Tressa: No, it wasn't. because of Jaxx...

:: Tressa almost smiled then. Her eyes still on the scene before her, it had

changed now. Jaxx and Tressa were eating the large chocolate dessert he had

arranged for her. ::

Kidora: You like this moment.

Tressa: It was a good dessert...

:: Kidora laughed, and Tressa smiled... it was quickly cut short as she felt

pressure on her chest, her breathe caught in her throat. Pain. It was real...

This she felt. ::

Tressa: :: Panic in her voice :: Kid? Wha-

:: More pain, piercing pain, in her chest. She couldn't breathe... She strained,

tried again, only to find herself gasping. The burning... in her hands, along

her arms.. She could see Kid's face, full of panic, full of concern. ::

Kidora: Something's happening outside!

:: Panic, fear. What if it was the Romulans? Was the Victory ok? Was she ok?.

She was choking, her body ravaged by pain. Tears sprung to her eyes again, a new

thought arose... Was this what it was like to die? ::

:: As the pain grew worse Kid's image in front of her began to fade. Tressa's

eyes grew wide as the woman began to disspear. ::

Tressa: Kid! No, no, no, no! Come back, don't go! Please!

:: More pain, more tears. ::

Tressa: Kid! :: She tried to reach for her, willed her to return, tried to

conjure the image once again, to no avail. ::

:: The pain began to envelop her, surround her, crush her. She could feel

herself being dragged back into the darkness, more panic, more fear. The memory

began to fade, the music was gone. Tressa felt tears as her eyes fell on the

Jaxx seated at the table, her eyes pleading, begging the image not to disappear,

not to leave her alone. Her breathe was short choking, the burning, the pain, it

was too much... She couldn't take it any more... As she succumbed to the pain in

her mind and through her body, her eyes drifted close, her hope left her... as

she descended into the darkness once more she screamed for Jaxx. ::

---- ---- ---- ---- --- ----

:: Voices. There were voices piercing the dark. She could hear a woman... she

didn't recognise her. There was pain, but it seemed so far, so disjointed from

her... her breathing, was hard, difficult, but better. Confusion... she was so

confused... She wanted to talk, wanted to ask were she was, but it all seemed so

far away. Was any of this real, or another illusion conjured by her mind? ::

---- ---- ---- ---- --- ----

:: On the biobed in Sickbay Tressa's breathing settled into a steady, shallow

pattern after the hypospray. There was no movement from the young Gideon as the

team of surgery nurses began to prepare her for the coming operation... ::

Ensign Tressa

Science Officer

USS Victory

November 8, 2010

Glad to be here.
I hope I get to see where the rest of my class gets posted.

According to Commander Turner's post, you were the only one that graduated. Then again... sometimes when there's insufficient demand someone steps up to ghost write for your cadets.

November 6, 2010

Woo hoo! Congratulations on passing your Cadet cruise and welcome to the fleet! Looking forward to simming with you, if I get the chance!

November 5, 2010

Hey all- I was extremely humbled to take out runner up, again, for this round's writing competition. Honestly, I feel that others were more deserving, so I am very honoured.

The moment I read Quinn's submission I knew we had our winner- it was an amazing read and I wholeheartedly agree with the judges. Very well done!

November 5, 2010

Sims may not be edited.
They should be the same as what is posted to the ship list.

That's okay. Thank you anyway, Captain!

November 2, 2010

I have a question- I have a sim on the next round's runoff but I've noticed a few tiny grammar mistakes and one repeated word. Is there provision for fixing a couple of small issues with a sim before it goes to runoff, or is it too late?

November 2, 2010

Very creative!

It's a tight race. Lots of good stories. Glad I'm not a judge...

October 27, 2010

Final copy:

"As the ancient Virtues discovered, we are children equally of the earth and the sky."

*****

These words are the beginning of the story of creation amongst the Trill who dwell on the southern continent. Although modern Trill were a peaceful and charismatic race it was not always so... in the beginning when the planet was young, there were four Trill sisters; Passion, Patience, Courage and Humility. These have been referred to as the Primal Virtues.

Passion had a body made of fire, flickering and glowing with every desire under the sun. She was impulsive and reckless; she would be the first to rush off into an unexplored area of Trill Prime, although she usually came running back to the other three when some dangerous monster or other hazard was found. More often than not, Passion was the cause of all manner of trouble.

Patience was the oldest of the four and had a body of water. No matter what problems the four sisters found themselves in, Passion would be the last to lose her temper or become bored; she was focused and methodical and she was a planner and thinker, although she could be lazy, haunty and arrogant.

Courage was the bravest of the four sisters, her body made of iron. Nothing could ever shake her; she would often be right behind Passion in exploring the brand new world they had been given, although unlike her chaotic sister she only ever moved forward and never ran away. Courage was brave, certainly, but she grew easily distracted and bored.

Humility was the youngest and most timid of the Virtues and her whole body was made of air. Humility typically stayed at home when the other three went out to explore their brand new world, doing simple chores and keeping her thoughts to herself. Although she had never harmed a living soul and was kind and gentle, she occasionally allowed herself to feel very self-righteous.

The four lived in harmony for eons. They hunted, explored, fished and fowled without concern- they were differences, yes, but they were always solved peacefully. Even when the whole planet was explored, the sisters passed the time spinning tales of the fantastic lands around the far-away stars.

Then the fifth Virtue arrived.

*****

His name was Joy, a man. Joy was handsome and tall- his shoulders broad, arms strong and toned. At first the four sisters were curious- something new, exciting and different... but they slowly grew jealous over the centuries. Joy was energetic like Passion, cautious like Patience, indomitable like Courage and kind like Humility. He seemed perfect... far better than each of the sisters individually.

Passion, as was her nature, made the first strike. She seduced Joy under the brilliant Trill moon. She came to him, using all her wiles; Joy was overcome. Passion kissed him on the forehead, her flames searing a dark spot onto his perfect skin. Crying in pain Joy tried to escape, but Passion's fire burned him; with each kiss a dark, scorched spot was branded into his form, thousands of them running from his head to his toes.

The three other sisters were horrified at what Passion had done, but none more than Patience. The water-Trill cut her finger, draining her essence out- the droplets became miniature versions of herself, swearing their lives to her cause. Her army marched across the continents in search of Passion.

But Passion saw what her sister had done and created an army of her own. She breathed out her elemental energy, each flicker of flame becoming a loyal fire-Trill. The flame soldiers marched against the aquatic constructs, but it was a stalemate. The fire-Trills evaporated the water-Trills, but the water-Trills quenched their enemies flames in return.

Passion sought an alliance with Courage. Passion offered her use of her flame- now Courage was able to mold her metal into whatever form she wanted. Together, Passion and Courage merged to form Loyalty, which is what happens when passion and courage collide. Their soldiers were made of steel and seemed invincible; the steel-Trills could not be quenched by Patience's water-Trills.

With the tide of battle turned against her, Patience sought out Humility. Humility, with her heart of air, was not certain what she could offer Patience- but Patience had a plan. Patience and Humility combined their essences, forming Honour. Their solders were the cloud-Trills... able to float over the battlefields avoiding the heavy steel-Trills of Loyalty, raining down upon them and, slowly, eroding their forms.

Now it was Loyalty who was on the back foot, but the two alliances were not to last. Patience grew lazy with her string of endless victories, while Humility could no longer stand to watch the destruction sweeping across Trill. Loyalty and Honour split, the four returning to their primal elements. The battles continued, with each four Primal Virtue struggling against the other.

After much deliberation, Patience eventually threw her lot in with Courage; the two became Sacrifice. The water-Trills and iron-Trills melted together to produce the blood-Trills, fearless creatures who could heal even horrific injuries. They were planners, schemers and utterly fearless. They began to overrun the mere air-Trills of Humility, hiding underground during the day and attacking them at night while they slept.

On the brink of defeat, Humility allied herself with her arch-enemy, Passion. The roaring flame of the fire-Trill and the calm, serene breeze of the air-Trill created Justice; a righteous, solemn bringer of wrath that had the raw power of Passion but the calming piety of Humility. The two formed the sun-Trills, burning high in the sky and dispensing flaming death from above.

The battles raged on and on, both sides even once again. Eventually Passion grew angry with Humility's cowardice, while Courage bored with Patience. The four elements split yet again, the whole planet for a second time falling into four-way conflict.

The wars raged on; the conflict was seemingly endless...

*****

The scorched, dying form of Joy saw what had happened and despaired. The five of them were supposed to work together, not brawl amongst themselves! With his last ounce of strength he called all four sisters to a great meeting place, a vast circle of stones in the southern hemisphere. With his dying grasp he asked them what they were all fighting for; each had their own answers, telling centuries-old tales of betrayal and loss, but Joy did not listen to any of them.

"We are children equally of the earth and the sky," he told them, his voice barely a whisper. "Quarrel not, you are sisters... and I am your brother. We are separate parts of one being- join together... "

The four Trill sisters were humbled by Joy's words and touched hands. The four Prime Virtues came together, forming a whole new kind of Trill- Passion and Patience were the brain of the new creatures, while Passion and Courage formed the skin. Passion and Humility were the lungs, Patience and Courage were the blood; Patience and Humility formed the organs and internal workings of the creature, while Courage and Humility formed the bones, tendons and ligaments. Instantly the creature was complete.

"But what of you, Joy?" asked the flesh-Trill, her face saddened.

"I am too weak to join with thee," he admitted, his body so weak and frail. "But it is my wish that thee, flesh-Trill, bear the marks of what Passion did to us!" With a final groan, the burns on his body flew off and found purchase on the flesh-Trill. She shrieked in agony as the spots attached themselves, forever branding the species with a reminder of the consequences of unbridled passions.

The effort was too much for Joy. Finally dying, his body collapsed into ten-thousand worms which burrowing themselves underground and hid in the dark, sludgy pools under the surface of the planet. The worms were ugly and helpless, a reflection of their father's dying moments.

Every flesh-Trill to this day bears the marks of Joy all over their bodies. Passions are considered a weakness of the young- the memory of Passion's betrayal is still fresh in their minds.

And the fifth Trill, well. When a flesh-Trill finds one of those... they are complete. They have come full circle- they are at peace.

The southern-continent Trills do not exaggerate when they say finding a symbiont is like finding Joy.

October 9, 2010

Cleaned up a bit:

"As the ancient Virtues discovered, we are children equally of the earth and the sky."

These words are the beginning of the story of creation amongst the Trill. Although modern Trill were a peaceful and charismatic race it was not always so. In the beginning when the planet was young, there were four Trill sisters; Passion, Patience, Courage and Humility. These have been referred to as the Primal Virtues.

Passion had a body made of fire, flickering and glowing with every desire under the sun. She was impulsive and reckless; she would be the first to rush off into an unexplored area of Trill Prime, although she usually came running back to the other three when some dangerous monster or other hazard was found. More often than not, Passion was the cause of all manner of trouble.

Patience was the oldest of the four and had a body of water. No matter what problems the four sisters found themselves in, Passion would be the last to lose her temper or become bored; she was focused and methodical, although she could be lazy. She was a planner and a thinker, but she could also be haunty and arrogant.