Sal Taybrim

Conspiracy Theories ~*~*~ “I cannot call to mind a single instance where I have ever been irreverent, except toward the things which were sacred to other people.” ~Mark Twain~ ~*~*~ James T. Lyle quivered with anticipation. From the moment he heard that the San Dimas earthquake had unearthed a sub level in the Chapel Library building he knew he wanted in on the dig. When he found out that Dr. Martin Hanniver was leading it, he was sure he needed to be there. Hanniver was one of the most important Earth artifact archeologists in the Federation – the very mention of his name set entire crowds of studious archeology geeks into stunned silence. Hanniver was the sort who had a vast reference stash of artifacts, information and Starfleet contacts at his fingertips and yet he didn’t do anything with this treasure trove beyond write stuffy articles for stuffy academic journals. Lyle thought that was quite a shame. There was so much one could do with that information, so much he believed was covered up by the shadows of Starfleet and its oh so secret organizations. In his mind there would always be academics that gathered information and who would need to be led by visionaries who could wield that information like a shining silver sword against the ignorance of the masses. James T. Lyle believed he was exactly one such visionary. Sure, everyone else might just see some gangly youth, barely old enough to be a force in the world. He was still young enough that his limbs seemed too long for his body, with sandy hair and a wide smile; he wasn’t a bad looking kid. Most people seemed to like him, or at least gravitate towards his radiant self-confidence. And why wouldn’t he be self confident? The line of Lyle had proudly enlisted into Starfleet for seven generations, but James was different. He was the one who broke the mold – went to college and had the brains to succeed. It was no co-incidence his father named him after the greatest Starfleet captain to have ever lived. Make no mistake, James Lyle was a man set out to do great things. He would be the first of his family to graduate a Starfleet officer and blaze a path of truth across the cosmos. He was sure of it. Certainly that was why, out of seventy-three archaeology students, he was the one picked to accompany Hanniver down into the wreckage. Lyle knew he had to make this opportunity count. He spent weeks preparing for it and planning for the best way to impress. And yet in person the man was not what Lyle expected. He was thinking Hanniver was a weedy academic – not the broad shouldered, strapping man who stood before him with long black hair, dark skin and a genial Martian drawl. Still, Lyle knew first impressions were everything and he had to make this one count. Hanniver could be the greatest launching pad of his career, if he could properly impress him. He needed this reference to get a foot into the door of Starfleet. “All right, as I am sure you are all already aware; we are standing outside the Chapel Medical Library of Starfleet Academy.” Dr. Hanniver opened to the gathered crowd of students and scientists. “This building was constructed 150 years ago, on top of the foundations of the old Starfleet Admiral’s Club after that facility was decommissioned and moved to Luna Capitol. The recent earthquake opened a fissure in the foundation which revealed an extensive sub-basement, used for records and storage. Our job is to carefully catalogue and remove all of the artifacts in this area. T’Pahl and Julani will be leading team one – you will be removing all of the isolinear rods from the storage area. Rodriguez and Ah’Krza will be leading team two – you will be tagging all personal items. Smith and Wesson will be leading team three in carefully checking the armory – if you run into any problems, call a security officer to assist.” He paused and fixed his eyes on the gangly student lingering in the back. “And Mr. Lyle – you are with me. We’re going to see if the sinkhole behind the fissure leads to anything. You will follow my lead, am I clear?” “Yes, sir!” Lyle called back. He double-checked his harness and gear before shouldering a portable generator and a case of checkpoint lanterns; brimming with excitement at the chance to venture into a place that hadn’t been explored for centuries. As the teams dispersed, Hanniver walked up, offering over a helmet and a pair of goggles. “They tell me you like a good adventure, Lyle. That you’re aiming for Starfleet Academy. I hope your rappelling skills are up to snuff.” Hanniver grinned, checking his own harness. Lyle gave an eager nod. “Oh yes, they’re good, sir!” He followed the older man into the crack in the earth, clipping his carabineer onto the safety cable as they eased their way down a steep incline. “What do you think we’re going to find down here?” Hanniver shrugged as he adjusted his light. The bright midday sun faded as they started traveling under the cracked precipice of the old foundation. “I hope to find some new information on the foundations of the Federation. I try not to expect anything.” He paused, grabbing onto a parallel cable and switching his harness clips. “Be careful, it’s slippery here. The two men descended down past the rubble left when the original building was destroyed, and past layers of older architectural remnants – brick and stonework from centuries past. The drop was surprisingly short, only a single story. It landed them in an unimpressive poured concrete box that had most of its identifying decoration stripped from the walls long ago. “Huh.” Lyle murmured. “Pretty bare.” It wasn’t what he thought it would be. Hanniver chuckled, handing Lyle a laser ruler and pulling out a tricorder. “Standard deconstruction job. This looks like late twenty first style construction – probably a storage area or possibly an underground garage.” “Why hide a storage area down here?” “Not so much ‘hide’ back then as it was ‘fit.’ Space was at a premium, the Lunar and Martian colonies were just infant ideas, cities were crowded. They needed to build up and down rather than side to side to make it all fit.” Hanniver replied, face down into his readings. He waved a hand towards his young companion. “This way.” Lyle gasped as Hanniver pushed a busted door open. The flashlight cut a beam down a long featureless hallway. “I have seen this before…” Lyle murmured. Hanniver perked a brow. “You have?” He turned towards his companion, watching the kid for several long seconds. Lyle’s eyes grew wide in anticipation. “I have! I know this book by heart! This is exactly how Colonel Abrahms describes the secret storage facility for Starfleet’s greatest temporal secrets in his book “Into Darkness: A Theory of Federation Development in an Alternative Timeline.” The older man turned to face his student. “Really?” The tone held less curiosity in it, and more belated disbelief. “That’s a hack pop-science book written by someone who would have been better off writing action-adventure holonovels.” Jaw dropping, James Lyle did his level best to not look as crestfallen as he felt. “Colonel Abrahms spent his whole life working on his body of work. It’s brilliant, if you take the time to read everything. And there’s plenty of support for his ideas.” Sighing, Hanniver pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated getting into arguments like this with students. “Lyle… I know it’s a compelling read – but that’s it. Entertainment. There’s no real science behind Abrahms’ theories. He doesn’t respect historical facts. All he does is build off other people’s theories and take them on a drunken romp through the annals of Federation history.” Lyle grit his teeth as they moved down the hallway. He had been studying this theory his entire life. He knew it better than anyone else, and the proof for this theory might be standing right in front of them. Ever since he was a small child Lyle believed there was a massive temporal cover up in Starfleet and he was going to be the man who would break it wide open and save the course of history. He had to make Hanniver see the truth. “There’s plenty of historical fact in Into Darkness. It builds from the very foundation of Federation records and into the real way history played out. We’re just too blind to see how much the Temporal Affairs Office has been altering our perceptions so we can’t see history correctly!” he argued as they came to a hole in the foundation. Fanning the flashlight around the dusty cavern of crushed concrete, Hanniver resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Colonel Abrahms was a nutjob conspiracy theorist. Why do you think he was given a dishonorable discharge from the Marine Corps?” “The history books are wrong.” Lyle folded his arms across his chest in muted defiance. “Colonel Abrahms was a visionary who unfolded a time centered plot that had – still has – the potential to unravel the very foundations of our Federation!” “Oh yes, I read all about it. The Romulan plot to travel back in time and destroy Vulcan.” Hanniver sighed. “Look, I know the destruction of the Hobus star took a lot of people by surprise, even shook them up pretty badly. The colonel was one of them. But it’s been fifty three years, and the non aggression pact with the Romulans has stood for over two decades. You think if they were going to try some insane time travel plot to ‘get revenge’ at the Federation, they would have done it already.” The student leaned forward, conviction tinting his voice with a passionate edge. “You don’t understand the flow of time travel. This whole cataclysm is just waiting for the right domino to be pushed over. We might be stumbling on the very proof that what the colonel predicted is absolutely true.” Hanniver paused, letting his shoulders slump as he fixed Lyle with an unimpressed stare. “The Abrahms theory may be the most popular conspiracy theory of the past fifty years.” He paused for effect. “But seriously, if a ship full of Romulans did have the ability to time travel wouldn’t they warn their planet of its impending doom and therefore save the vast majority of their species rather than going off on some ill-conceived revenge mission?” Lyle stalled in his vehement argument. The gears in his brain turned, remembering the fascinating passages he had spent years reading under his covers and in darkened back rooms of dusty libraries. “They were driven insane by grief.” He asserted. “Romulans are crazy… but they’re not that crazy.” Hanniver replied, making a light sound of disgust as he continued forward. Lyle felt his cheeks burn. He followed Hanniver through a busted door and into a cleaned out storage area. Running his finger along the thick layer of dust accumulated on the tops of the steel shelving, he tried to recoup his argument. “There was interference by Admiral Marcus. He was in on the time conspiracy because he wanted to purge all non-human influence from the Federation. The Romulan attack on Vulcan would be a fundamental building block for his xenophobic platform. He steered them towards Vulcan.” “That’s ridiculous.” Hanniver called back, setting down the portable generator and messing with the controls until it hummed to life. The beacons he had been placing on their way down powered up with a deep amber glow. “It isn’t. Even in this time stream, historians were able to point out over a dozen pivotal decisions Admiral Marcus made that perfectly set up the time-warp destruction of the Vulcan homeworld. It’s a good thing he was stopped by Khan before he got the chance to implement his plans.” Hanniver sighed. “Admiral Marcus died at home from rheumatic fever, surrounded by his family at the age of ninety-three. He never fought a genetically engineered superman, he never built a death dealing stealth battleship, and the biggest scandal he was involved in was that Federation News Service story about how he used his Starfleet rank to give him in edge in bartering flower samples after he retired.” He fixed Lyle with a flat look. “Yes, they accused him of having an unfair advantage in a garden show competition.” He punctuated the gravity of this statement with a low ‘oooooh.’ “It’s a Federation cover up. They don’t want you to know how deeply the Temporal Affairs Department in entrenched in every walk of life in the United Federation of Planets. And Starfleet. Especially Starfleet.” Lyle wasn’t about to give up, he knew this story all too well, and he usually won this argument. Most people simply conceded that his knowledge was superior. “Yep.” Hanniver tossed back. “I have tea with temporal agents every other Wednesday.” “Are you being sarcastic?” “Are you being serious?” “You don’t seem to understand the gravity of this situation!” “Look, Mr. Lyle…” Hanniver sighed, changing tactics. “What do you really think you’re going to find down here?” “I don’t know!” Lyle threw his hands up in the air, his eyes wide. “That’s the brilliant beauty of it all, isn’t it? There could be any number of things that could tear a massive hole into the cover ups that Starfleet heaps on us.” He paused and added with a smile, “I like keeping my mind open to the possibilities.” “Possibilities?” Hanniver snorted. “Right.” He shook his head, working on unlocking the far door in the room. It gave a whine as the rusty old fashioned hinges creaked and the seal around the door cracked open. A rush of cold air hit them both, and even Hanniver felt his curiosity pique. It was like a freezer in here. “Oh my God… I was right…” Lyle breathed as the fog from the coolant cleared. Hanniver picked up a beacon and let the light penetrate the frigid blackness. Storage containers. Row after row after row of perfectly preserved storage containers. “We don’t know what’s in them until we open one.” Hanniver replied, keeping his voice calm. He didn’t want to admit this discovery rattled him just a little. He crouched down, trying to find any identification on the container. “It says botanical samples.” He started the unlock code, vaguely surprised how easily the locking mechanism jumped to life. “Of course they would say plant samples. No one labels horrific bioweapons or cryogenically frozen soldiers as what they really are.” “I’m not getting any dangerous readings.” Hanniver countered, his tricorder at the ready as the lock sequenced. “Shielding.” Lyle muttered. “I’m sure it has shielding.” Hanniver felt a surge of adrenaline as the locking device on the container hummed compliantly and the lights on the control panel turned green. Maybe Lyle’s wild theories were infectious, but he felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine as he opened the case. The fog of cryogenic cooling agents hissed as they hit the warmth of the outside and rolled across his chest. “Oh my God…” the words dribbled from his mouth as his jaw dropped. “I was right, wasn’t I?” Lyle tossed back, his eyes wide as saucers. “This proves the whole theory!” “No…” Hanniver’s expression was like a tiny child seeing a Christmas tree glittering with lights and tinsel for the very first time. He grabbed a sample tongs and pulled out a small cylindrical case. “This is a Romulan snow orchid…” He gasped, taking out another case, “Romulan three leaf basil… and mountain poppies…” A chuckle of realization bubbled from his chest. “Admiral Marcus was smuggling illegal plant samples from the neutral zone for his garden…” “Plants.” Lyle’s expression looked like it has been smashed with a wrecking ball. “Just plants?” “Not just plants.” Hanniver grabbed his tricorder and started to take readings from inside the case. “This is a botanical treasure trove! Over half of these species have been extinct since the Hobus star exploded… and they’re still biologically viable. We could cultivate them!” The excitement in Hanniver’s voice was growing to a fevered pitch. “Think of the diplomatic inroads the Federation could make to the Romulans by offering them seedlings of these plants… this is amazing, Lyle! Simply amazing!” “Just plants.” The young man repeated, his shock fading to disappointment and anger. “We did all this digging for a bunch of stupid plants?!” Hanniver stood, letting the excitement of his find bleed away from his expression as he settled his gaze on Lyle. If the kid couldn’t realize the importance of a discovery like this one… “Reality check, kid. I don’t think you’re cut out for Starfleet. In fact, I’m going to recommend that after you finish your degree you should apply for a job at Forsythe Historical Holonovel Productions. They’re always hiring archaeologists and historians. Help them give that realistic ‘edge’ to their programming. Pays well, good benefits, Arconis V is a beautiful planet to work on and you can indulge your sense of pulp fiction fantasy on a daily basis.” He offered Lyle a sympathetic smile. “Heck, I’ll even give you a good reference for the job.” Lyle’s mouth fell open in disappointment. Entertainment? Holonovels? He thought he would be on the cutting edge of the unknown, not programming trite historical romantic adventures. “Are you serious?” “Dead serious kid.” Hanniver gathered his tools. “Come on, we need to get a science team down here.” Lyle lingered back, holding back a disenchanted cry. As Hanniver disappeared into the side room he kicked the floor and turned back at the rows of storage pods. “Stupid plants.” He cursed again, hanging his head and following the professor. ~*~ Lieutenant JG Sal Taybrim Science Officer USS Excalibur-A

Porthos! Seriously, of all the Trek characters he's the most likely one I'd run up to and give hugs and belly snorgles >.> I don't think I was ever romantically attracted to a Trek character *chuckle*

((Evolution Bar, Deck 6, Drive Section)) ::Kael knew that the Commander was put in a difficult position and that in essence it would have been easier for him to simply just squash the issue. But he was doing his best to point out the benefits and was in his own way, fighting for his officers.:: ::It was clear to D'Nal that these Stafleet officers had no problem with the relocation and adoption of this Romulan boy. Turning from them and facing the window to his colony he needed to think. Saying yes, was, something that in his knowledge had never been voluntarily done. Why would you allow a Romulan boy to not grow up with a Romulan family when there are so many readily available. However, D'Nal kept coming back to the promise made by the mother of the child. Why would she wish her own child to not be raised as a Romulan, on HIS colony. This prospect troubled D'Nal more than the idea of the boy. :: Thomas: Governor, I don't mean to force your hand on this, but, would meeting the officer and the boy make this easier? ::Greir had been about to suggest the very same thing and quietly let the conversation unfold for now. :: Hheinia: I fail to see how meeting them would make it easier. ::Unless he means easier to emotionally blackmail him.:: Thomas: Governor, the boy hasn't been spoken to regarding this. It's possible, if you ask him, he might not want to. ::Kael had seen the boy's attachment to Graham from his interaction on the planet. While it was entirely possible that the boy might decide to stay on Talvath, he thought it equally as likely that the bond they had strangely developed might indeed be strong enough for him to self determine to stay. As much as a boy of 4 or 5 can self determine.:: ::Turning to face the man D'Nal knew this wouldn't be truly resolved unless he did meet them. He could outright decline the notion right now, but he decided to indulge the officers. Surely the boy would make his mind up for him and choose to come back to his own..:: Hheinia: Very well, bring them here. ::As the officer was summoned along with the boy the group in the room simply waited patiently, and silently for their arrival. The decision that was about to be made involved people and needed to be carefully considered.:: ::As Graham approached the door to the room with security outside of it, he put down Galen. The boy seemed almost impossible to detach from him since his mother passed away. As he put him down, the boy wanted to be picked up again, but Graham had to be firm with him. To Graham, walking in with the boy in his arms was presumptuous and unprofessional. If the Governor was to decline his wish, it would easier for Graham to break that bond, if the boy wasn't in his arms already. The Officer opened the door to find his superiors gathered in the room. Crossing the threshold was a daunting enough experience and he'd yet to have any discussion with the occupants.:: Block: Sirs. : :D'Nal turned as the man spoke and was taken back by the boy and the Officer. The boy was holding onto the man's trousers by his hand. He could be no more than four or five at most. This boy had no idea about what his parents or the Empire thought about Starfleet; he was an innocent. This man was around when he was simply in a time of need and the boy, for whatever reason formed that bond. :: Reinard: Come on in Ensign. Commander Thomas has explained what's happened. We need to hear why this is so important to you. I need to know whether you're ready and able to assume this responsibility - if it is permitted by the Governor. I have to know that you understand what you're taking on before I can give my blessing. ::He tried to keep an even tone that was calm and reassuring. It had to be pretty intimidating coming up in front of the most senior people on the ship as well as the Governor for the planet. Greir wondered whether Graham knew how much he was asking of them. The ship wasn't exactly kitted out for families either and StarFleet tended to avoid assigning them here for that reason. There was no nursery or school here and there never would be. Ashley Malcolm was one of the very few children aboard, :: ::Kael felt sorry for the officer but he needed to do this. What he was facing now, would be nothing compared to how hard it will be to look after a child. He tried to give Graham a reassuring look.:: Block: Thank you Commander. ::Looking down at Galen, who looked a little terrified. An emotion Graham could identify with.:: Sir's, this boy's...Galen's mother made me promise on her passing, that I adopt her son. Hheinia: Commander if I may? ::When no objection came during his pause he continued.:: Ensign, what made you think you could fulfil that promise? ::Graham had tried to prepare himself as best he could for these questions. He knew they were important and he knew that the Governor would be especially hard if he ended up speaking to him. The process had to be rigorous otherwise how would you determine just how good of a parent you would be to the boy. Graham took a breath and responded.:: Block: In truth, I probably shouldn't have promised. I was...and in truth in no position to promise that I will be able to adopt Galen. Hheinia: That is agreed. Why do you think that she asked you to promise. She is Romulan, the boy is Romulan. Why would she wish the boy to be a Human, and in Starfleet? ::Block thought back to the moment in question. The women was very forceful in getting him to promise to her that he would take her boy. She had clearly seen the attachment he had formed with the man but there must have been something else. She wasn't sure the colony would survive and she did not wish her boy to be brought up in it's ruin. She feared, that none there, would love her boy like she would. Graham thought about telling him that, but he knew it would inflame the situation. He didnt' want to not give all the details, but he knew it would also mean he couldn't fulfil his promise. That was all that mattered to Graham.:: Block: She had no family left Sir. She wished to have someone look after him whom she felt would give him everything that she would. In truth I have no idea why she wanted me over anyone else. But Sir, a promise to me is more important than anything. I know it's your decision, but I'll do everything I can to ensure I keep my promise. ::Some might have considered that comment a threat to the discussion, but D'Nal didn't. He was in a room full of people who were passionate about life, and passionate about this boy being taken care of. Could he say he could find someone on the planet that could love the boy, yes he could. Surely, for D'Nal that was the better option despite the passion and the desire of these officers. Looking at the boy, he was still attached to the leg of the officer and looking a little scared he must say. He had children of his own and he knew how he probably felt. D'Nal wanted to talk to this boy.:: Hheinia: ::Crouching down to the boys height.:: Galen is it? ::The boy barely looked up.:: Do you know who I am? ::The boy shook his head, and D'Nal accepted he was at least communicating.:: Do you know who this man is? ::Pointing at the Ensign, the boy spoke.:: Galen: Gaaaham ::Kael smiled at the boy, who did the best he could to say the man's name. :: Hheinia: You know Graham would like to adopt you. So you could live with him. Do you want to do that? Live with him? ::Graham felt a little nervous as the boy seemingly thought about it. He hadn't quite prepared himself for the event that the boy didn't want to stay with him. :: Galen: Yes. Hheinia: : :D'Nal sighed at the boy and his refusal to give him anything that would make saying no more than just his answer. His last hope with the boy would be if he knew of some family then D'Nal rather send him to them.:: Do you have any family Galen? Someone you can live with? ::In a moment that Kael will never forget, the boy reached out his hands in the clear symbol for Graham to pick him up, and repeated what he said before.:: Galen: Gaaaham : :D'Nal stood back up from where he was crouched and watched as a Human Starfleet officer held a romulan boy. If someone had of said to him that someday you'll see a Romulan boy raised by a Starfleet officer he would have told them they were lunatics. No one in the room could deny that this boy, right now, wanted to be with Graham. But there was so much more to it than that. This boy needed to be protected and nurtured. While it appeared that this Starfleet officer was willing to do that, he wondered if he was indeed capable. :: ::Walking back to the window he thought about the repercussions should he say yes. He knew the Empire would not approve but he didn't particularly care about that. He knew his people wouldn't approve, but he knew he could use the story in a positive light. He wanted his Colony to have Federation support and he wondered if allowing this boy to be part of it, would help to bring that closer together. Could this boy, end up moving Romulan and Federation relations towards a positive in the future? D'Nal didn't know, but as he turned around and saw the two again, he didn't feel like he had a compelling reason other than just because to deny this. The sight of them in each others arms, was a symbol he wanted to beam across the empire. This is how great it can be, this is what the future of Federation and the Empire should be.:: D'Nal: ::Breathing a sigh of defeat:: You have my blessing Ensign. ::It wasn't hard for Kael to miss the excitement and relief on the young mans face. He waited as they both looked at the Commander. :: ::He could see eager faces looking at him and waiting for his response. He was the last barrier to this happening and he too couldn't miss the close bong that had already formed between the two. With the Governor having given his blessing and seeing how the two were with each other it seemed impossible to say no. He was sure the boy would be somewhat traumatised by what had happened but he was sure everyone would band together and help Graham through any difficult times with the boy. :: Reinard: There are still a lot of things we'll need to discuss about it, but yes, I grant my permission as well. ::If Graham wasn't a professional Starfleet officer he might have let a little sound of joy out, but he was. He understood the complexity of the decision and he would do as he had promised to do, and look after this boy as best he could. :: Block: Thank you Sirs, I will do everything I can for him. ::Over the next hour and a bit the group talked about the future and recovery of Talvath. Greir grew to feel he could trust the Governor, at least more than he had when the question had been posed earlier. They talked of the future of the boy and how he was to be raised. He insisted that Graham find at least one god parent. He tried to be discreet about it but hoped the message was clear to Graham at least. If he was ever incapacitated, or worse, there needed to be someone ready to step in to the role of permanent carer, so the sooner someone was chosen and included as part of the new family unit the better. :: ::Once business was concluded to the satisfaction of everyone present Greir decided it was time to get a report from the bridge. Looking out through the window he had watched the sky slowly return to a much more normal colour and felt very proud of his team for their work and pleased that Talvath would have a future here. If looks were anything to go by then he was expecting they were about done here and ready to send the Romulan Governor home and the patients they had picked up earlier, assuming they were in a fit state to return home. :: Reinard: Excuse us a moment Governor, we're going to get a sitrep. We'll be right back. ::He ushered Kael across the room. :: Commander, please check in with the progress of those Romulan casualties you arranged to have brought up while I check the progress on the bridge. Thomas: Ay Sir. ::While the Commander spoke with the bridge, Kael put through a call to Sickbay to check on the progress of his rescued Romulans. He had hoped that their injuries weren't too severe and that the time in Sickbay would suffice to have their wounds treated. When the all clear returned from the sickbay Kael gave the order to have them transported back down near the Triage facility. While Kael would have liked to do more for them by the way of fixing their house, he already knew he's overstepped in getting them treated on the Darwin. He would settle for the fact that they are now alive and hopefully grateful for the fact.:: A JP By: Commander Greir Reinard Commanding Officer USS Darwin-A Cadet Steward: UFOP: SB118 Academy and Lieutenant Commander Kael Thomas First Officer USS Darwin-A Simming PNPC Ensign Graham Block Operations Officer USS Darwin-A and MSPNPC D'Nal Hheinia Governor Talvath

I'd actually think it would be an advantage not to know what they are. Knowing what they are keeps guiding the mind back to the movie and concepts stemming from it.

It was cold. A simple saying, but perhaps cold was an understatement. On a planet where the miners had fifteen different words to describe the precise kind of cold the current weather was displaying, and another seventy-three to cover the specifics of icy precipitation, being able to single out one instance as cold enough to mention lent an air of significance to a simple saying. The Bakalen were used to cold. The heavy, bipedal bovine creatures adapted well to it, and had been better bred to withstand it for seven generations. Now they stood, stamping their hooves in the frozen ground, refusing to move. When it was cold enough to make them pause, the dilithium mine workers of Seandrus VII knew it was time to call it quits. “Get them into the barn, and everyone else into the shelters, there’s a good one brewin!’” Kleos Tal, the Rigellian foreman called out. The miners took up their tools with an air of relief, herding the animals into their shelters before running for warmth. It was only when the majority of workers and animals alike had been safely stowed that Tal noticed movement on the edge of the mine. “Starfleet, get your [...] back here!” “McEnroe and Daling are still out there!” The young Terran suited up in insulated Starfleet scientific blues called back. “They might need someone to flare them in!” “I told them not to go. If those fools wanted to go spelunking for ancient artifacts, they should have picked a clear day when all the scanners were fully operational.” Tal shook his head. “Not that you stuffed shirt Starfleet types ever listen…” he added under his breath. “You’d be better off watching for them on the perimeter scan. I ain’t makin’ the call to Starfleet explaining why your body’s coming back in a freezerbag.” Lieutenant Michael Evans took a breath in through his teeth. He had been part of the original team to scout the dilithium deposits in this area three years ago; he knew the terrain and the weather as well as Tal knew them, and yet the foreman took every chance possible to make him feel like a chastised child. “Fine, I want control of the camera.” “All yours.” Kleos Tal smirked, waving the officer towards the cabin. “Hurry up, before your eyeballs freeze.” ~*~ Evans was pacing. It was either pacing or screaming, but as the minutes dragged by and the sky went from hazy grey towards black, he could feel his panic rising. “Where are they?” he asked into his hand as he bit down on the knuckles. “Don’t get your panties into a bundle.” Tal remarked, looking up from his coffee. “They probably saw the storm coming and made camp.” “Which means they could get snowed in.” Evans countered, taking a break from his pacing to stare at the blank feed. Tal shrugged. “So what if they do? Tomorrow’s the fifteenth. Supply ship’s a comin’ and if we need to, we can scan for ‘em and have ‘em beamed out.” Evans folded his arms across his chest. He didn’t like it, but Tal had a point. Sinking into the chair facing the camera feed he watched the steam drain off his cup of raktajino. He didn’t know how much energy he had wasted in worrying, but he had almost dozed off in the chair when the communications system crackled to life. [[Daling to Evans… storm getting wo… coming ... bringing in an injured… following…]] Evans’ head snapped up, hitting the communications panel. “Ensign Daling? You’re breaking up! Boost your signal.” There was a burst of static, followed by a high pitched whine, before Daling’s raspy voice came through. [[Can you hear me, Sir? We’re coming into the complex now. We have one of those cow-beasts they use in the mines; burned real badly from the microwave radiation we used to clear the snow from the cave walls. McEnroe told me to bring it back, she thinks she can help it.]] Daling’s tone clearly hinted that he would have put it out of its misery mercifully in order to be back on time. Evans allowed a small smile to play across his features. Lilly McEnroe was the sort of person who hated to see anyone or anything suffer, from a beast of burden to a fellow crewmate. “You said you were following something?” He queried, leaning forward as if getting closer to the communication panel would help him be heard. [[i think we’re being followed. Something has been after us ever since we left the dig site.]] “Do you know the identity of what’s following you?” Dailing drew in a breath [[No, Sir. It’s moving tactically. And not on a vehicle. Maybe riding an animal? Hard to tell. McEnroe tried to get a scan, but the weather conditions are interfering.]] “I have you on the camera feed, and I’m getting partial sensor readings. Looks like whatever was following you has backed off… If I can get a better scan, I will.” Evans paused, looking back at the camera. “Where are you headed?” [McEnroe wants to head to the barn first, to drop off our passenger. Then we’re heading in. I’m freezing.] “Be careful.” Evans murmured trying to push away the ill feeling in his gut. [When am I not careful, boss?] Dailing chuckled. Evans forced a smile into his voice. “I know, but…” he never had a chance to finish the thought. As the vehicle pulled up towards the barn, a choked cry came over the line, and it lapsed into static. “Daling?” Nothing. “McEnroe? Daling?!” A shadow flickered across the screen, heading directly for the snowmobile. “I need to know what that is, now!” Evans shouted at Tal, trying to move the camera in for a closer view. “Get me that audio feed back…” There was a crackle of static and the terrified scream of Daling’s voice pierced the line. Terror turned to anguish, and anguish turned to pain. The voice was suddenly cut short. “You said you know every animal on these plains… what was that?” Evans demanded, thrusting a finger towards the viewscreen. Kleos Tal perked a brow; reaching for the disruptor rifle he kept by his parka. “I have no clue. But I’m gonna find out.” ~*~ Outside the snow was falling so fast it looked like the whole planet was in the middle of a giant snow globe that was being shaken continuously, never giving anything time to settle. Add to that the fact that with every breath, a haze of fog clung to Evans’ facemask and goggles, the young officer felt like he was blundering around in the dark. Kleos Tal fanned out with several of his friends – trigger happy mine junkies who didn’t seem to care that one wrong step might get them killed. They were hunting monsters. Evans’ scoffed - he was looking for his teammates. His hands tightened on his phaser as they spread out to search. Daling was outside the barn, face up in the snow, surrounded by a growing puddle of dark blue. The Bolian’s cracked helmet lay several feet beside him. Evans felt his heart leap up into his throat and he rushed to the fallen man’s side. He was still warm. Evans gently prodded Daling’s shoulder, prompting an anguished groan from the smaller man. “We should have never taken that cow-beast.” his voice was whisper thin and broken. “They came back. They got Lilly.” “Shh. Steady.” Evans counseled, gently fumbling in a desperate attempt to provide first aid. “We’ll get you inside.” Daling shook his head fractionally. “This is revenge. We fried two of the little beasts on accident, they got scared when they saw us and ran into the cave where we were using microwaves. Crisped them before we could shut it off. The last one lived. I was going to put it out of its misery, but Lilly said we could save it… and now they’re gonna kill her for it.” His voice was raspy and gurgling. Evans clenched his teeth, watching the man’s chest flutter and collapse. “Shut up, Ensign, I’m gonna get you out of here.” He felt tears form and freeze at the sides of his face. The pool of blood was still spreading, turning to slick blue ice at the edges as Daling’s eyes glazed over. Evans scooped the Bolian into his arms, trying to ignore the man’s groan of agony. “I’m done, Sir. Leave me.” Daling pleaded, his voice failing. “Save Lilly… please…” His eyes closed, and the snow flakes stopped melting as they hit his lips. Evans closed his eyes, feeling cold seep into the young officers’ body. For several long seconds his brain screamed in denial, and he started to pick Daling up as the man sank as dead weight into his arms. “Keep breathing, Daling, come on!” He clung to the corpse, as if he could order the man to live. In the end he was shaken from his frozen reverie by a high pitched screech. Whirling around, he saw what Dailing was speaking of. One of the Bakalen stamped the snow with a murderous focus on the snowmobile. On Lilly McEnroe. Murmuring an apology Evans lay the dead man down and sprinted towards the sled, firing his phaser into the creature’s side. His jaw dropped, watching as the weapon didn’t even slow it down. The Bakalen gave a high pitched scream of fury and turned to intercept Evans, ramming its head into his chest. Evans hit the frozen ground hard enough that his vision blurred into bright white spots, and he rolled onto his stomach underneath the ore platform. McEnroe stirred with just enough awareness to jump from the snowmobile before the second attack came. The hammering of hooves crushed the body of the vehicle like a tin can. “Lilly!” Evans croaked. “Get under the platform!” He waved a hand towards her, but she lay still as the Bakalen kicked the sled out of its way and advanced. He crawled towards the opposite side of the platform, praying under his breath. “No… please no…” There was no way he could make it to McEnroe first, and even if he did, it was only giving the Bakalen a choice of two victims instead of one. A bitter feeling rose in his throat as he heard the thing roar. A flash of light pierced his vision, and he heard Kleos Tal’s crass laughter. A second line of disruptor fire followed and a third, cutting a dark line of blood down the beast’s chest. It issued one last guttural growl before it collapsed in a ruined heap. “That was pretty good, huh?” Tal crowed. Evans felt his adrenaline spike as he pulled himself to his feet, ignoring Tal’s commentary. His eyes were on one goal: Lilly. He ran to her, checking quickly to make sure he could move her. As he looked up, he saw movement around Tal’s position and the Rigelian started to panic, firing into the darkness. “What got into these crazy beasts? Get back in your pens!” Evans stood, picking McEnroe up with him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tal down one of the Bakalen as two more converged on him. There was a sickening crack of bones, punctuated by a low growl of revenge. Mercifully, Tal’s screams were drowned out by the hammering of Evans’ heart echoing through his head. With McEnroe’s bloody form draped across one shoulder, he held his phaser up with his other hand, biting back a laugh at how ineffective the hand weapon seemed against looming monsters. The snow drifted down in a light powdery dust, fading to nothingness as the temperature dropped. They needed shelter and they needed it now. With the Bakalen between them and the main shelter, it seemed like slim pickings. Evans squinted into the darkness. The barn was enticingly close. Close, and where the Bakalen lived. It was a double edged sword and he never was much of a gambler. He was about ready to circle back when McEnroe groaned. “Lilly?” He murmured, trying to shift her so he could see her face. “Cold… Mike. I’m so cold…” she breathed, her eyes still closed. Evans’ felt his heart race. “I’ll find shelter, Lilly, don’t worry.” “Mike… remember Janus 6?” She stammered through a body-wrenching shiver. “Shh, Lilly… Don’t speak.” He consoled, quickening his pace. “No, Mike… listen. Remember Janus 6… please!” She implored, her last words fading into incoherency. Evans furrowed his brow, wondering how long she had if she was hallucinating. He had been to many planets with Lilly McEnroe before, but never Janus 6. It was a geological oddity half a sector away. Why bring it up now? The Bakalen had disappeared, and his muscles ached from the cold. Swallowing the bile in the back of his throat he kicked the barn door open and slipped inside. Almost immediately he wished he hadn’t. He could smell the burned flesh of the calf Daling talked about, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see the baleful eyes of an adult cow boring into him. Evans brought his phaser to bear, wavering between the calf and the adult. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he offered in a soothing tone. It paused and looked at him stamping its hoof and making the signal the miners used deep in the mines to tell an operator to stop the cart when you couldn’t hear them. Stop. He stopped, staring as the creature stood down, edging around him to stand by the injured calf. Looking at him as if it had something to say. That’s when it hit him like a brick to the head. Janus 6. The Horta. A seemingly murderous beast was actually sentient. “I can help…” he offered with a thread of hope that it might understand It canted its head like he had seen then do in the mines. He had never thought about what it meant before. Like it was trying to speak. Trying… or perhaps actually speaking… Evans held his hands up in a non threatening manner, fumbling with his tricorder. Scanning for something… anything he could use to communicate. That’s when he caught it, in the frequencies beyond what most humanoids could hear. A trilling, perhaps a language. “Keep speaking…” he implored. He struggled to hook his own communicator up into the matrix, letting the devices chug through the input, until a simple message flashed back to him on the screen: [How can murderer help?] “Murderer?” He swallowed, remembering what Daling said about the dead calves. “We did not know…” [Never murder innocent, no.] He shook his head sorrowfully. “We were not innocent, but we did not want to hurt you. She brought that one back to help.” He gestured between Lilly and the calf. “You need help.” Evans’ reasoned, catching the mother’s gaze and locking it with his own. “I have medicine. In her pack. You can have it if you let me help.” Dragging a hoof across the stable floor she canted her head, and the message flashed across the screen: [You give, we give.] Barely daring to breathe, Evans dug in McEnroe’s pack, drawing out her med kit and opening it up. “Can you use it?” [You help son, I warm woman.] It was a plain offer, but one Evans was willing to accept. He knelt down by the bleating calf, applying burn salve and regenerative bandages under the hawk-eye gaze of its mother. When he was finally done he turned back, giving a silent prayer of thanks to see Lilly’s chest rise and fall evenly in sleep. The Bakalen’s expression was ponderous, sorrowful. [We did not think you would help. We thought you were all murderers. We did not need to freeze so much blood.] He offered a slow nod of assent, watching as the mother mirrored it. “I can tell my people to leave you alone.” She settled back on her haunches and for many long minutes no message came over the PADD. Finally she leaned forward and words flashed up. [We need voice. You are voice. Forget this not.] Evans nodded his head, mutely, letting his eyes meet hers. He had no words to express the amount of apology he wanted to bestow to the Bakalen for this misunderstanding; no way of saying how furious he was – not at them in specific, but that years of ignorant silence between the two species had pushed one to act out in the most vicious and base way possible against the other simply to be heard. And the only thing that would prevent it from happening again was giving them voice. His voice. “I am your voice.” They were the only words that slipped out as he stared off into the horizon, waiting for the call from the supply ship to come through. ~*~ The Bakalen were silent as the morning dawned and the call came through from the supply ship. Evans ordered two for transport; he would tell the Captain what had happened once he was warm enough to form the words. The breath that rattled through his teeth was tainted by the stab of sorrow wrenching his gut. Academically he could trace everything back to where things went wrong. But face to face with the death masques of people he had shared dinner with last night; now decorated with their own frozen entrails as the remains of the shelter smoldered in the tenuous light of dawn, it made Evans feel numb. How many years had the Bakalen tried to tell them they were more than stupid pack animals, for a peaceful species to be finally driven to this kind of murder? He dropped to his knees in the snow still holding McEnroe in his arms. Surrounded by the carnage of misunderstanding, he closed his eyes and waited for the transporter beam to take him away from this nightmare. ~*~*~*~*~*~ Ensign Sal Taybrim Counselor USS Excalibur-A

Welcome onboard!

Cool. A few notes from someone who has thoroughly combed your wiki for tutorials: Your second link is not easily accessible from any wiki tutorial page. I found the first link while searching for information but the second one I only saw now that you linked it. It would be helpful to have a page on the wiki that has hotlinks for all wiki tutorials Things not included in any tutorial I can find on the wiki: 1. All the Featured Bio winners of 2013 have specialized dividers for thier categories ("stats" "personality" ect) in the color of their department. However new ensigns do not get these dividers. While I could steal them from someone else's bio, I don't like clicking the 'see' or 'edit' button of another person's work. Can you have these divider templates / pictures on a wiki page or information on how to create and edit them. 2. I can not find how to place pictures on the right side of the screen - or the middle of the screen. It defaults to the left. 3. I can not find a tutorial on how to place a box around the pictures with an annotation 4. I can not find a tutorial on how to create an 'expand/reduce' field Perhaps if the wiki cannot host such tutorials, there could be a forum link to what websites do host such tutorials. I went on wikipedia to search wiki tutorials, but their information is very dense and difficult to navigate (like using AutoCad to draw a stick figure.)

Is there a really good guide for wiki formatting? In the fleetwide chat today, I noticed quite a few people remarking that they enjoyed writing up things for their bios, but they were struggling - sometimes for hours - with html / wiki formatting. Conversely are there templates for things like dividers or quote bars?

Hello there and welcome! Sweeet, I'm not the newest Newbie anymore