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Wes Roberts

STSF GM
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Everything posted by Wes Roberts

  1. Mission Brief | Sky Harbor Aegis | 12 December 2014 8 January 2388 - Stardate 2388.008 TBS was 10 minutes. The time is 1810 (6 pm) local, on Friday, 8 January, 2388. Mr. Roberts is in command of Sky Harbor Aegis. During a banquet for the crew, he announced that his strategy will be more pro-active approach to threats.
  2. Mission Brief | Sky Harbor Aegis | 10 October 2014 7 January 2388 - Stardate 2388.007 TBS was 3 hours. The time is 1200 local, on Thursday, 7 January, 2388. Pakleds have docked at the shipyard in a ship that was probably new when the NASA Space Shuttle Enterprise was rolled out. Scott has drawn the short straw and is going over to the shipyards to handle their inspection before they’re allowed to trade with the station. Captain T’Mir of the Caledonian Defense Force is still patrolling, and reinforcements should be due in any day.
  3. 23 November 2387, 0630 Aegis Relative Time Roberts Quarters Maighdin rolled over, and ran her hand along the bed where her husband should have been. She cracked open her eyes, and saw that he was already out of bed...especially with the noises coming from the kitchen. Throwing on her robe, she sleepily headed into the kitchen and into chaos. Frying pan on the stove full of sausage meat browning; a pot of stuffing warming, Tarja and Tajra peeling potatoes and turnips, a pan of jumbo Romulan mollusks seasoned and ready to go into the oven, and the bird- a gorgeous 30 lbs bird waiting to be stuffed sat waiting to be stuffed, its guts already in a pot simmering for the gravy. And coffee warming in the coffeemaker. “Morning,” Wes called from the sink, up to his elbows in soapy water. Mai walked over to her husband and kissed him on the cheek, before pouring herself a cup of joe. “Good morning, beloved. I see you're busy.” “Well, Will and family will be over around noon, so I might as well have everything ready early. Especially since its been the first family holiday dinner we've had since we both joined Starfleet.” Mai smiled. “First holiday in what, 25-30 years? I fully understand.” She sipped her coffee, and watched her husband acting domestic. “Elle and L'illa?” “Still in their room, asleep.” “I do wish the papers would go through. It tugs at the heartstrings every time.” “I know, bessig. How do you think it feels to her?” Wes rinsed off the pan that he had been scrubbing and put it in the dish drainer. “I'll talk to Mimi after the weekend. Once the bird's in the oven, I'll get breakfast going, and we'll see if we can the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade over subspace.” * * * “Commander, Ranko, Xian Pu,” Wes said, as he opened the door to his quarters for Will and family. “Mr. Roberts, thank you for the invitation,” Will replied, as he and his family entered. When the door slid shut, Will wrapped his older brother in a bear hug. “Its damn good to see you, Chris.” Wes ruffled his younger half-brother's hair, after getting out of the bear hug. “Its good to see you too, Will. Socially that is. I don't think you ever met my wife, Maighdin, or my daughter Eilistraee. And our soon to be adopted daughter, L'illa.” Mai and Elle smiled and waved, while L'illa was a bit more circumspect. Wes hugged Ranko and then Xian Pu. “Its good to see you two as well. I'm surprised you've managed to stay with the family problem child.” The sisters-in-law chuckled. “Quit standing around my office, and come in. Elle, why don't you L'illa take your cousins to your room.” Will looked around, whistling. “Being a pirate has certainly had its perks, Chris. And is the deck hardwood?” Wes nodded. “Its teak, from the southern continent of Hibernia. That tapestry came from the captain's cabin of a Black Kris dreadnought, the Steinway that's pushed up against the bulkhead in the living room came from a Cunard starliner, who's passengers and crew became 'colonists'. The Persian rugs came from rich toff from one of the Core worlds. He thought himself a slaver. I despise slavers, so he had a long walk out of a short airlock.” Wes pointed out the knicknacks and tchotchkes of a second career of piracy and privateering. On the viewscreen was the Federation Grifball1 League of the Federation's annual Thanksgiving Detroit Lions game- this year it was the Lions versus the Centaurus City Paso Leati. The dinner was a magnificent feast, of turkey, duck (courtesy of Xian Pu), side dishes, all washed down with a well aged brivari, all served on service that once belonged to the Grand Nagus. Conversation was light, pleasant, and avoided all the usual conflict subjects that tend to turn holidays into family brawls. With the table cleared and torn down, the kids back in Elle and L'illa's room, cordials poured, and the dishwasher chugging away. Wes set his port glass on end table. “Will, I'm your brother and all, but for all intents and purposes, 'Christopher Marx' is 'Missing, Presumed Dead.' And I'd like to leave it at that. Dad would probably understand.” Will nodded. “I was kind of wondering why Maighdin didn't call you by your birth name the entire night.” Wes nodded, ignoring Will Junior and L'illa were tearing up and down the corridor, with Elle and the other girls chasing after him with foam dart guns. “I've been either 'Wesley' or the 'Dread Pirate Roberts' ever since I left Arcadia. And, yes I know SOCOM taught us to treat cover identities as disposable props. And it just feels—I don't know—easier, maybe, to not be a Marx?” “True. Instead of just a Romulan death mark, you've got Ferengi, Orion, Dominion, Cardassian, and probably Breen and Tholian on your head. I've seen your rap sheet, and it isn't pretty.” Wes chuckled. “No, I'm pretty sure it isn't. Hell, at one point, the Federation had a bounty out on me.” “No, they had a bounty out on you twice,” Will countered, as foam darts flew around the two brothers. “So what's with L'illa? I'd have never expected you to adopt a Romulan. Especially not after what they did to you.” “We had an...issue a while back on the old station, wherein slavers adopted a whole slew of orphans. It seemed...right to adopt her, given that Imperial sources have been unable to locate her parents since the destruction of Romulus last year.” Will nodded as a foam dart bounced of his brother's head. He stood. “I don't know who in the Shop Owners' Guild got it in their head, but the Commerce Level is opening up for Black Friday at midnight. I've got my staff on a double shifts starting in a few hours.” “Funny, I don't recall seeing that come across the station schedule.” Wes shrugged, as he stood. “Well, try not to shoot anyone tomorrow. It would look bad for the Security, the Station and you.” Will chuckled. “Thanks. And don't worry about me slipping up and calling you by your former name.” 1- Youtube "RvB Grifball PSA"
  4. Aboard the CDS Gan Ning, DD-41 Four hours out of Sky Harbor Aegis In the privacy of her ready room, T'Mir pulled the sealed orders out of her safe. Breaking the sealing wax wafer, she withdrew the envelope and read over her task group's orders. “Proceed to following star systems—Valaria, Mariah, Gemulon, Barham—with your task group, and investigate for possible Tjurakh pirate or Orion Cartel activity and report. Do not attempt to engage ships from either Threat Force, unless engaged. If no activity is noted in any of the assigned star systems, return to Aegis Station for resupply, refueling and reassignment. If activity is detected, observe and report. Setting the report down, she stood and retrieved a large flimsy chart of the region. With a set of dividers, she plotted out a rough course, before hitting the com stud on her desk. “Mr Castle, to my ready room.” As her rugged looking executive officer walked in, she handed him the secret orders. He looked them over, before looking at the chart on her desk, and the pencil marks on it. “Four months, Captain?” “Four months. Or longer, should we discover an area of interest,” the Vulcan scrubbed her fingers through her auburn hair. Unlike Spock, she never had to prove anything to either herself or her people, that she was fully Vulcan. But well over 6 score years in continual service with more emotional races may have rubbed off on her. Her therapist on Hibernia, however, believed her emotions became her coping mechanism for seven years of captivity by the Dominion. “I take it our first visit will be to Valaria?” T'Mir nodded, answering her XO's question. “I'll have communications signal the Maddox and Stryker. Speed, Captain?” “Warp 5 should be sufficient. And make sure all communications officers keep an ear out for any distress calls. We're in neutral space, and we may have the biggest guns around for several parsecs.” “Which protocols will we be following, Captain, in the event of a distress call?” A smile quirked up the corner of T'Mir's lips. “Mr. Roberts has been legitimate for the past year, Mr Castle, and we are a legitimate...territorial component of the Starfleet. Repairs if possible, rescue if not. We'll contact either Outpost Gamma 7 or Starbase 621 for assistance with any survivors.” Castle nodded. “I'll issue the orders to Helm and Communications.” “Thank you, Mr Castle.” As her executive officer left, she stood before the forward viewport, her broadcloth jacket, with its bullion epaulets hanging on the back of her desk chair. ___________________________ 1The Caledonian Defense Force follows US Navy World War II pennant classifications, with some post-war and Royal Navy adoptions- BB- Battleship (None in the CDF) BCG- Battle Cruiser, Guided Missile CC- Battle Cruiser (Lexington and Saratoga's pre-Washington Treaty classification) CB- Cruiser, Large (Equivalent to Alaska-class cruisers) CA- Cruiser, Heavy (Des Moines, Oregon City class cruisers) CL- Cruiser, Light (USS Brooklyn) DD- Destroyer PT- Patrol, Torpedo CVF- Aircraft Carrier, Fleet (RN Designation (QE2-class) CVA- Aircraft Carrier, Attack CVL- Aircraft Carrier, Light FS- Corvette ATF- Fleet Tug
  5. Deployments A Wes Roberts Production™ Rosyth Space Station In geostationary orbit over Caledonia 1800 hours local, 0700 hours Aegis In a briefing room aboard the primary command and control and repair station of the Caledonian Defense Force, nine captains, executive officers and Commander, Aerospace Groups entered. Broadcloth, gold lace and epaulets, and cocked hats were the required uniform for those in attendance; even for the CAGs, who grumbled about not being in their more comfortable flightsuits. A flag lieutenant entered. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Commander in Chief,” he called. The assembled officers stood as Admiral of the Fleet James Dent walked in. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. There has been a situation at Sky Harbor Aegis, wherein communication with the station was lost for 48 hours. By not sending their own task force in to contact the station, it seems Starfleet has abrogated its position as defender of the station. Task Group 1.1, while on a long range deployment exercise, rendezvoused with the station, made contact with Chancellor Roberts, and is now on shoreleave at the station while providing additional forces on scene. “Your mission is bolster the task force currently at Aegis. Admiral Nynaeve will be your overall commander, and she will be taking her orders from Captain Chirakis, the station commander...” “Excuse me, Admiral,” Captain Kasse, of the Ark Royal, spoke up. “Sir, this is all well and good, but how are we supposed supply fuel, replicator media, and other consumables? We're only supposed to be a small sector defense fleet, not a major portion of the Starfleet. Even if Starfleet has abrogated their responsibilities to the station, we're 6 to 8 weeks away from our supply and maintenance point.” “A valid concern, Captain Kasse. We're budgeting in support requirements into this battlegroup's mission budget. You'll be able to draw on Aegis for supplies and repairs. Any expenses incurred will be billed to Starfleet Headquarters. Admiral Nynaeve will be apprised of the budgetary situation as well. In fact, our first bill to Starfleet will be going out two days after you depart, to offset our providing full fuel and supplies. We can justify Task Group 1.1's expense as it was a training exercise. Now that this is a full on support mission, Captain, Starfleet will need to get its financial house in order for us. “Your order packets will already be aboard your vessels. Once you've finished fueling and taking on supplies, the battlegroup will depart. Ladies and gentlemen, I wish you good luck in this endeavour, and good hunting.” Dent turned on his heel, and walked out of the briefing room, signaling the end of the brief.
  6. Consultations A Wes Roberts Production™ Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep. Wes cracked an eye open, trying to figure out what that damned noise was. Looking around the bedroom, he noted it was sometime in the vicinity of Zero Dark Thirty, Mai had her leg sticking out from under the covers. As the beeping continued, realization slowly crept into the Executive Officer's sleep-addled mind. “What?” “Mr. Roberts, sorry to disturb you, but incoming transmission from Caledonian Ministry of Defense.” “Give me a couple of minutes, Betty, then transfer it to my desk.” “Yes sir.” Wes was already sliding out of bed, pulling on a pair of short and t-shirt before staggering out into the hall. With a stumble, a loud curse, and a stubbed toe, he'd kicked one of his daughter's toys down the hall. Tajra stuck her head out of the room she shared with her twin sister, heard that Wes was up, and stealthily made her way to the kitchen, to begin brewing coffee. Sitting down, Wes activated the screen. “Minister Trupple, what do I have the honor?” “Chancellor. Sorry to disturb you; it seems the time difference was forgotten about.” “Spare me the pleasantries, Minister, the duty day starts in 5 hours.” Tajra, staying out of view of the screen, placed a steaming cup of coffee on the desk, before retreating back to the kitchen to finish brewing the rest of the pot. “Of course, sir. We've read Admiral Nynaeve's report on the strange occurrences going on in Aegis space. Prime Minister Eberstark has, in your absence, authorized the deployment of the Ark Royal's battlegroup to assist in securing Aegis. There will, of course be some realignment of the task force currently under Admiral Nynaeve, and a reduction in cruisers present, but four Malaccas will be more than sufficient.” “Let me see what's coming in.” “Of course, Chancellor.” A second window popped open, showing the order of battle incoming. Wes just shook his head, after taking a sip. “Minister, I don't need 7 carriers and four cruisers on top of what's here right now. Send 1 class of each carrier, a pair of Malaccas, and pair of additional Jaegers. I don't need as many larger cruisers, so the Bias Bay and Lux can go home.” “Of course, Chancellor. We'll amend the deployment order. Admiral Nynaeve will remain on-scene commander of the battlegroup. Once the ships are provisioned, they will proceed by the fastest route to Aegis.” “Understood, Minister. I'll advise Captain Chirakis to expect more guests in the coming weeks. And you've sent Admiral Nynaeve's new orders?” Truppel nodded. “She'll be receiving them today.” “Is there anything else, Minister?” “No Chancellor. I'll let you get back to sleep. Defense Ministry out.” The screen flashed with the Caledonian roundel, and faded to black. Wes stood from his desk, and walked into the kitchen. “Tajra, why don't you go back to bed. I'll take care of the coffee, and my mug.” Green eyes flashed, as the blonde Baradi Aelfin nodded, before heading down the corridor. Walking towards the picture window that dominated the living room, Wes literally stared out into space, his mind aglow with whirling transient nodes of thought.
  7. Figures Audraya would know that, sheesh.
  8. Mission Brief | Sky Harbor Aegis | 11 July 2014 7 November 2387 - Stardate 2387.313 TBS was 1 hour. More noise from the broadcasts. Operations and Engineering are continuing to search for where and how these broadcasts are getting into the station, while the new Chief of Security signed out a lab in the Industrial sector.
  9. Holiday planning A Joint log between Wes Roberts and Will Marx Wes stretched and stood, before heading aft from his workstation in Command and Control. Ignoring, as best as possible, the off-station broadcasts, Wes headed for the lift and the arboretum. Mai and Eile were there with L'illia. Getting off the lift, he spied several families enjoying a pleasant Saturday morning; nodding to several staffers, he made his way over to the grove where his wife and daughter were. “You got them up and out early,” he said, settling on to the blanket spread out over the grass. “I know. Eile wants to spend as much time with her future sister. I think its a good idea, even if I did have to sign L'illia out of morning classes.” Mai poured her husband a cup of coffee from the thermos as she spoke. “That's good. A day skipped isn't going to be detrimental. And Eile's definitely taken a shining to her.” Wes took a sip of coffee, letting the spiciness of the herbs Mai brewed with it clear his thoughts...and sinuses. “Did you know Will's onboard?” “I thought the name of the new Security Chief was familiar,” she replied vaguely. “Have you seen him?” “Of course. I had to inprocess him. As far as I know, he hasn't mentioned our history to anyone. Other than the routine 'Yes, I hunted down and captured the Dread Pirate Roberts. Who promptly escaped from Federation custody on Rhydin, with my SOCOM light freighter, the Wild Stallion.' Sooner or later, I'm going to have to at least let Chirakis know that he's my brother. Personally, though, I prefer to let 'LCDR Christopher Marx, Jr.' remain 'Missing, Presumed Lost'.” Mai chuckled. “You're having entirely too much fun as Wes Roberts. But I can see the logic in that, it'd bring up far too many questions.” She sipped her own cup of coffee, watching Eile and L'illia play. “You know, your tradition of Thanksgiving is coming up...three weeks from this past Thursday. I know Eile and L'illia would probably like to finally meet their cousins, and I know I'd like to meet my sisters-in-law.” “Well, I think I can get a turkey here, fast enough. At least the old station had a plethora of purveyors of fine goods, food, and spirits. I can always send the Revenge haring off on a wild turkey hunt. I'll send out an informally formal invite to Will today.” Wes stood, and brushed his pants off. “I better get back to C&C. This unknown news broadcast that's pumping into the station comms has everyone scratching their heads.” Will was in his office, filling out the HAZDEC (Hazardous Declaration) for SubCommander Jorahl, ignoring the intermittent communications blasts. “Let's see...Aviation Gasoline, 145 octane, replicated in 1 208l (55gal US) barrel, as required. SAE 60 weight oil, 1 208l barrel, as required.” A chime on his terminal interrupted him. “Station mail...from the XO. 'The Roberts family cordially invites the Marx family to share in the Roberts tradition of the Thanksgiving dinner, 26 November at 1330 hours. RSVP, Wesley Roberts, Station XO.' Huh. Nice to see my brother hasn't forgotten all our traditions that Dad instilled in us.” He hit the comm to his residence. “Nihao, Marx family quarters,” Xian Pu's bubbly, lavender-tressed image answered. Marx slipped easily into Joketsuzuko Mandarin. “The XO has invited us to Thanksgiving dinner at his quarters. I think the kids would like to finally meet their cousin and aunt” “Its a good idea,” Xian replied. “Did the invitation say potluck or not?” “No, but it might be a good idea to bring something. Is Ranko there?” “No, she's out shopping, and figuring out where the nearest clinic is. I'll ask her when she gets back in. But I think it's a too too good idea. I'll let you know when she gets back. See you after your shift, Airen.”
  10. At Sea Cabin Starship Revenge, currently docked at the Aegis Shipyard Mai sat at the kitchen table, filling out the forms necessary to adopt one of the orphans. She chuckled, wondering what those who screamed about keeping the Romulan bloodlines pure would have to say about an Orion and her Human husband adopting a Romulan orphan. Although Mai seriously doubted that Mimi would give much, if any thought to it. "Hm...'Parents Professions'. Well," Mai mused aloud, a smile in her voice, "I doubt 'Pirate' and 'Former Slave' would work. I guess "Station Executive Officer" and "homemaker" will have to suffice." As she continued to fill out the form, she thought about the children who Wes shepherded to the Shipyard aboard the Revenge. Part of her wanted to adopt all of the orphans, but it wouldn’t be feasible. Of course, she could always have her husband put a bug in the Prime Minister Trupel to find parents looking to adopt. Considering a portion of the original crew who put down roots on Caledonia had been orphans, bastard children, or former freed slaves, it would make sense Although Mai did have a feeling that SubCommander tr’Jeth would probably urge to squash it, being a stickler for “Romulan Purity,” it seemed. Even if he *was* married to Mimi. But there was one young girl amongst the orphans who tore at Mai’s heartstrings. L’illia, whose azure eyes held such pain and loneliness for one so young. As she put the name down on the form, Mai hoped simply that being brought into the Roberts family would would help soothe the pain L’illia had for those she had lost when Romulus burned.
  11. 33

    33 (With apologies to RDM for borrowing the title) 2387.216 “Reset the clock. Set Condition 2 through out the station,” Wes said, scrubbing his face with his hands. “All personnel, Condition 2. The clock is running,” Betty called over the intercom, as the big digital countdown clock reset and began counting down from 33 minutes. “Mr. Roberts, its your 20 minutes.” “Thank you, Betty.” He shuffled into his office and closed the door. The 65th consecutive attack, and the station held. Barely. Engineering was reporting multiple shield emitters overloaded and burned out in Pylon B, along with hull damage in the cargo areas. The former Diplomatic wing was, as yet, untouched. Other attacks by the KraH'kHn had knocked back the defense grid, the fighters, and a raid in the shipyard. The station was missing 5 fighters and three pilots; Revenge had lost two of her Wraiths. The Protector had its sensor dome blasted away, and the Anicetus lost her port nacelle and portside controller pod. The Revenge had taken damage during one of the attacks, her weapons pod out of the fight with a damaged autoload system. Unbuckling and removing his holster, he threw his pistol on his desk, next to the bowl of food Tarja had brought from Mai. He needed to go down to the Midway, and reassure the civilians, but there wasn't any time. Glancing at the clock, he'd already wasted 5 of his precious 20 minutes in retrospective thought. He settled down on the couch, pulled the old wool blanket up over him, and closed his eyes. “ACTION STATIONS, ACTION STATIONS. SET CONDITION ONE THROUGHOUT THE STATION. THIS IS NOT A DRILL!” The electronic bonging of the klaxon pulled Wes out of his 20 minute nap. At least someone on the Operations desk had replaced the air raid siren for something a little less jarring. Tossing the blanket aside, he grabbed his holster, stormed out his office. “Report!”
  12. Sky Harbor Aegis will be an unofficial sim due to the potential of holiday travel disruption.
  13. Astronomers studying a newborn star have caught a detailed glimpse of planets forming around it, revealing a never-before seen stage of planetary evolution. Large gas giant planets appear to be clearing a gap in the disk of material surrounding the star, and using gravity to channel material across the gap to the interior, helping the star to grow. Theoretical simulations have predicted such bridges between outer and inner portions of disks surrounding stars, but none have been directly observed until now. An international team of astronomers have used the partially completed Atacama Large Millimeter/submillimeter Array (ALMA) to study a young star about 450 light-years from Earth. They identified two thin filaments of gas streaming from the outer disk to the inner, across a broad gap cut by young planets. "Currently, the only mechanism known to produce such gap-crossing dense molecular flows, with residual carbon monoxide gasmore diffusely spread out inside the gap, is planetary formation," lead scientist Simon Casassus of the University of Chile told SPACE.com in an email. Bridging the gap Far from Earth, the fledgling star HD 142527 is nearing the end of its formation process. Around 2 million years old, the young star is about twice as massive as the sun, though it is still slowly growing. A disk of spinning dust and gas left over from its formation surrounds the star, and from this material, planets are being created. As baby planets, or planetesimals, travel through the disk, they absorb the material around them, creating gaps. Such paths have been seen in a number of newborn systems. HD 142527 boasts a gap that starts at a point equivalent to Saturn's position in the solar system and extends outward 14 times as far. The gap, which scientists had previously measured, is so large that several planets would be required to clear it of debris. Using ALMA to observe the system, Casassus and his team have found that the gap is not completely empty. Two filaments reach from the outer disk to the inner, indicating that at least two young planets exist within the space. The gravity of the planets draws material from the outer ring inward. But while some of the gas and dust falls into orbit around the young gas giants, a fraction of it overshoots the planetesimals, traveling instead to the inner disk. Eventually, the star absorbs the material. These bridges are important to the continued growth of the system's young sun. The inner disk around the star is too small to sustain its growth; Casassus and his team concluded that the disk around HD 142527 would be depleted within a year without a bridge. Planets funneling material from the outer disk to the inner would help nourish their star. The process won't continue forever, however. "Eventually, the proto-gaseous giants will exhaust the material within their radius of influence," Casassus said. "How much material will have infallen, in what timescales, and how this impacts the planet location and eventual migration are all open questions in the field of planet formation. Our observations are a step forward." Mind the gap In addition to revealing the bridges between the two disks, ALMA's detailed measurements showed that the gaps weren't completely empty. Instead, they contain traces of carbon monoxide gas. "This residual gas was predicted by all dynamical calculations, but previous detections were not as clear-cut and direct as the ALMA result," Casassus said. The data was taken by ALMA during its first year of observation. The array of 66 telescopes, set up in Chile, is still under construction but should be completed this year, at which point Casassus plans to observe the system in greater detail. Although the dense gas of the filaments would obstruct a direct view of the young planets, studying the system at the higher resolution of the completed ALMA could reveal knots along the filaments that could signify their location. At the same time, a more precise examination of the leftover gas in the gaps could help astronomers to narrow down the mass of the developing planets.
  14. Redneck Olympic tryouts.
  15. You realize that your life will never be as cool as this picture.
  16. (AN: Set during the 48 hour TBS last sim) Executive Officer's Quarters, Sky Harbor Aegis Wes sat at his desk in his quarters, the reports received from both Captain Chirakis and Temporal Corps Assistant Director Baliss sitting on the granite desktop. There was a third padd that had GW's security review of the Revenge's communications array. And while Mai's message was directed towards Orion space, it passed exceedingly close to the out of time and place Comanche Creek. And Commander Wesley was of sufficient appearance to Mai that he could believe her to be a relative. He stood, and moved to within range of the door sensor. “Mai, can I see you for a few minute,” he called. “Yes,” she replied, entering the office. An apron was around her waist, and a dish towel thrown over her shoulder. “Mai, why did you send that message?” “What message?” “The one that passed extremely close to Comanche Creek...and was in Low Kolari.” “That one...I did it because I didn't want to see my aunt die uselessly on some station on the Klingon frontier.” “Mai,” Wes' voice softened, slightly. “What you did could have massive repercussions for myself, Captain Chirakis, SOE and SOCOM. TempCorps is involved now. Because the message, which did have a header for Captain Calestorm's ship, wasn't picked up just by them. It was picked up by almost every listening station along the border.” He sighed. “What am I going to do with you, Mai? I can't very well keelhaul you, or dismiss you from the ship or station.” Mai sat down, her eyes soft. “You will do whatever you must, my Lord,” she said. “Fine then. Your allowance is cut off for the next two months, as are Midway privileges. I'll forward a not to SubCommander Dabi. You're to be allowed on the Midway only for household necessities until May 1st.” “Acceptable punishment.” “I'm not done yet. After dinner tonight, I want to see you in Holosuite 3, in those silks that you kept all these years.” “For pleasure or punishment?” “Both.” -=-=-=-=- Drumming his fingers, Wes waited for the secure transmission to wind its way through subspace, and reach Department 214 headquarters. The screen lit up, eventually, with the SOE logo. “Roberts, have you any idea what time it is?” “Maturin. We have a problem.” “What 'kind' of problem?” “You are aware of the incidents in Romulan space?” “You mean the Breen death star, the supernova that irradiated Romulus, and the resulting anomaly that dropped a hundred and twenty seven year old ship smack dab in the middle of three of the most advanced ships in Starfleet? Or does it concern Assistant Director Baliss?” “All of the above, Maturin. It seems Mai sent a text message to the Creek before we began our return to Aegis. And everyone picked it up.” “You've disciplined her, haven't you?” “Of course. No, the bigger problem is with TempCorps. And Baliss being completely, and utterly useless, administrator who sees threats to the timeline where ever he goes and overreacts. I swear that man would love to blinky us into idiocy, for all that we know of temporal mnemonics.” “What do you want us to do?” “End his witch hunt. I know it'll cost me in the long run, but the more I can keep him away from Captain Chirakis, the less I have to worry about some regular Fleet sycophant taking over the station.” “Understood. What's the progress on the Tjurakh situation?” “Backburner while we deal with the refugee and resettlement problem from the supernova. Khaiell has some good intel, and it appears that at least one Orion Cartel faction is helping them—the Black Kris.” “That figures. Continue with your mission, Roberts. Is there anything else?” “Yes. Let General Maden know that they never equipped Revenge with a communications suite capable of piercing slipstream. I've got the engineers on the station researching into it, but they made need more...classified information. Namely on the Borg.” “I'll see what I can do with General Maden. Maturin out.”
  17. Silver Merit Award Reflections `Well, it no use your talking about waking him,' said Tweedledum, `when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real.' `I am real!' said Alice and began to cry. Through the Looking Glass, Lewis Carroll ------------------- Mai sat in the XO’s seat on the bridge of the Revenge, watching the initial communications with the crew of the Lost in Spacetime Comanche Creek with some interest. Especially noted was the Orion in command gold. Like a mirror, she thought to herself, it must be Audraya. With her husband and Chirakis moving into Wes’s office, the screen shifted back to the exterior view- Comanche Creek snugged up on the Revenge’s dorsal side, the tractor beam keeping her tight within the shield sphere. The antique heavy destroyer certainly looked out of place, contrasting the design philosophies of the 24th century. Her musings were cut short by the office door opening, and Wes telling GW to send a security detail over with the Commodore aboard the Teach. Which was, of course, followed by a snorted grumble and the Tellarite getting on the comm to the ship’s security detachment. JoNs stayed put, as Chirakis entered the lift and headed for Shuttlebay 2. “Wes, the Creek’s XO would have been my great aunt. Branwen, my grandmother was her sister,” Mai said quietly. “Had she stayed in the clan, that is.” “What happened to her?” “Morohtar sold her to Robert Wesley, when he was a young Lieutenant Commander. The Clan kept tabs on her, apparently the Interstellar Red Cross manage to keep track of that information, especially those who’ve been freed. Once Commander Wesley got back to Earth, she was freed and adopted into his family. After that, she was stricken from the Clan rolls. “Grandma Bran, though, continued to follow her through the web. Accepted into Starfleet Academy, fighter program, Sherman’s Planet, several starships, rising to second officer of the USS Entente. She was on the Epsilon 9 station, awaiting to relieve Commander Branch, when V’Ger crossed into Federation space in 2273. “And to see her here, and now, I wish I could go warn her to not accept any assignments to any station.” “I can’t allow that, Mai. Who knows what happens in their future,” Wes replied, pointing at the image of the Creek on the viewscreen. “And any information you impart to them, could have disastrous consequences for all of us. Or at least our alternate future selves... Wes rubbed his head. “God, temporal mnemonics give me a headache. There are times I wish I could be more like my brother, not have much to worry about other than security on the Arcadia, and keeping his wives happy.” The last was said just loud enough for Mai to catch. She laughed. “Now now, Wes. You have your own ship, your own handpicked crew, most of whom served with you before you were captured; your own planet, more wealth than the Grand Nagus, and a loving wife. And no, you’re not at all like your brother, because I won’t share you.”
  18. Reflections `Well, it no use your talking about waking him,' said Tweedledum, `when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real.' `I am real!' said Alice and began to cry. Through the Looking Glass, Lewis Carroll ------------------- Mai sat in the XO’s seat on the bridge of the Revenge, watching the initial communications with the crew of the Lost in Spacetime Comanche Creek with some interest. Especially noted was the Orion in command gold. Like a mirror, she thought to herself, it must be Audraya. With her husband and Chirakis moving into Wes’s office, the screen shifted back to the exterior view- Comanche Creek snugged up on the Revenge’s dorsal side, the tractor beam keeping her tight within the shield sphere. The antique heavy destroyer certainly looked out of place, contrasting the design philosophies of the 24th century. Her musings were cut short by the office door opening, and Wes telling GW to send a security detail over with the Commodore aboard the Teach. Which was, of course, followed by a snorted grumble and the Tellarite getting on the comm to the ship’s security detachment. JoNs stayed put, as Chirakis entered the lift and headed for Shuttlebay 2. “Wes, the Creek’s XO would have been my great aunt. Branwen, my grandmother was her sister,” Mai said quietly. “Had she stayed in the clan, that is.” “What happened to her?” “Morohtar sold her to Robert Wesley, when he was a young Lieutenant Commander. The Clan kept tabs on her, apparently the Interstellar Red Cross manage to keep track of that information, especially those who’ve been freed. Once Commander Wesley got back to Earth, she was freed and adopted into his family. After that, she was stricken from the Clan rolls. “Grandma Bran, though, continued to follow her through the web. Accepted into Starfleet Academy, fighter program, Sherman’s Planet, several starships, rising to second officer of the USS Entente. She was on the Epsilon 9 station, awaiting to relieve Commander Branch, when V’Ger crossed into Federation space in 2273. “And to see her here, and now, I wish I could go warn her to not accept any assignments to any station.” “I can’t allow that, Mai. Who knows what happens in their future,” Wes replied, pointing at the image of the Creek on the viewscreen. “And any information you impart to them, could have disastrous consequences for all of us. Or at least our alternate future selves... Wes rubbed his head. “God, temporal mnemonics give me a headache. There are times I wish I could be more like my brother, not have much to worry about other than security on the Arcadia, and keeping his wives happy.” The last was said just loud enough for Mai to catch. She laughed. “Now now, Wes. You have your own ship, your own handpicked crew, most of whom served with you before you were captured; your own planet, more wealth than the Grand Nagus, and a loving wife. And no, you’re not at all like your brother, because I won’t share you.”
  19. Winner.
  20. Next on "Hunting with Rick Perry", we'll be going after the elusive teletubby...
  21. Captain’s At Sea Cabin Revenge, currently orbiting Romulus 11 February 2387 “You’re anxious,” Mai said simply, from her position curled up next to her husband. “I’ve never seen you this anxious before. Is there a reason?” “Mai, you know me. I’m a man of action. Politicking and diplomatic niceties aren’t my cup of tea. It also doesn’t help that we’re in orbit over Romulus, headquarters of the Tal Shiar, the Imperial Navy and homeworld of the Empire. I don’t care if the Praetor himself repealed the death mark, some Romulans will hold a grudge for generations. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that all it would require is one member of the Tal Shiar or the Imperial Navy to ‘ask’ me to come down to the planet, and BANG, I’m either dead or arrested, and some lucky soldier’s set for life.” Mai uncurled herself and sat herself squarely in her husband’s lap, straddling his legs. “I know you’re a man of action, herven1. Nor do I find it unmanly for you to be paranoid, given where we are, and your relations with the Star Empire. Khaiell is equally nervous, with his being without a House. As are all the crew who were with you when you were the ‘Scourge of the Spacelanes.’ “But you are now in a position that requires diplomacy and politicking, as executive officer of an Allied starbase. I will be by your side through for better and for worse, Parthannûn2.” She leaned in and tenderly kissed her husband. “You married an Orion who believes her her vows, herven, and believes that the wisest of us work behind the scenes. Our family is filled with stories about that. Great Grandam Mareena worked behind the scenes of the Black Kris for Great Grandpa Romo. It was a shame Auntie Litasha never saw that, and wound up on the block. Mareena was furious with her for running the Kris into the ground. It took the rest of Mareena’s life to rebuild not only the Clan’s standing amongst the Cartels, but to also rebuild our honor.” Mai chuckled mirthlessly, her voice had a bitter edge to it. “The day Litasha was sold to the Grand Nagus was both a dark day, and the first step towards our clan’s rebuilding of honor, since Mareena struck her proper name from the clan rolls and replaced with simply with ‘ssindossa’3.” Wes pulled his wife into his arms, and stroked her back, trying calming her. “And all these years we’ve been together, you’ve never told me this, herves4. Why?” He could feel his shirt dampening as her tears fell. “You never asked, beloved. And all your years as the Dread Pirate, I never felt I should intrude and bring my family up to you. Even when you took me off Praetorian, and released the other slaves, and I refused to leave you, I did not want to tell you. When we were married, I still couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I was still afraid to tell you, herven, when we were reunited, and I still am.” Wes continued to hold his wife, stroking her back, as she cried. “You have nothing to fear from me, my wife. You gained my trust on Ord Pardron, when you took out that bounty hunter. You gained my love by just being you. And you allowed me to show my face as myself, and not one of a hundred aliases I have by convincing Starfleet to pardon my...piratical activities. You’ve never anything to fear from me. If anything, because of you I’m trying to be a better husband and father.” He gently grasped her head, and lifted it up off his shoulder. Wiping the tears away from her face, he smiled at her. “I’m not one for secrets, Mai. Never have been. But its your family and clan, and I know you’ll have secrets that you don’t want revealed. I won’t press you for them. I never will. I’ll let you bring them up as you want them too. Okay?” Mai smiled at her husband. “Of course, my Lord. If you hadn’t attacked and captured the Praetorian, I’d be a very unhappy concubine or comfort girl somewhere. “I was,” she teased, “going to suggest of a way to help take your mind off of the fact that we’re orbiting Romulus...” “Eilistraee’s still awake...” Wes interrupted. Mai laughed, her melancholy forgotten. “That wasn’t it, darling. Although that would be a good way to do so...perhaps when Eil’s asleep later. “No, I was thinking some Mozart, say his third violin concerto. But, I fear I won’t be as good a player as I’d normally be.” “No, you wouldn’t be. When you’re feeling better, my dear, we’ll play.” ________________ 1 Herven: Elvish for Husband. All phrases in High Kolari (Orion) are borrowed from Elvish (Arwen-Undomiel). All phrases in Low Kolari (Orion) are borrowed from Drow/Dark Elvish (The Chose of Eilistraee). Until someone decides to come up with an Orion translator. 2 Parthannûn: Wesley 3 Ssindossa: A not nice Drow word. Y’all can go look it up if you want. 4 Herves: Wife.
  22. Someone say cake? Happy Birthday, Admiral
  23. Starship Revenge February 2, 2387 1001hrs Wes stood in the transporter room, dressed in his usual shipboard uniform. As the transporter hummed, the forms of Captain Chirakis and CDR JoNs coalesced on the platform. “Captain, Commander, welcome aboard the Revenge. The last of our supplies have finished beaming aboard, and we’ll be departing for Romulus momentarily. If you’ll follow me to the bridge, please.” As the trio left the transporter area, JoNs immediately went into ‘standard formation’ mode, deferring to the two senior officers while she fell into the rear guard position. Sharp eyes took in the layout of the vessel on their walk, making mental notations on access hatches and the corridor layout. The Commander had never been much of a techie, but she definitely liked what she was seeing. Nice vessel. Captain Chirakis’ face was drawn. Hours of intense logistical planning with the allied powers had taken its toll, and now she had been ordered closer to the action: to Romulus. It seemed that some allied ships had become overenthusiastic to the point that the High Command’s vocabulary had become peppered with coercion, opportunistic, and hostile takeover. It was her job to sort it all out, to make sure an evacuation assist did not turn into an interstellar war. Joy. Her pace was firm and steady and her eyes sharp despite the strain she’d been under. Her lips were as taught as her focused thoughts - wound tight with anticipation of what might happen in the next few hours. Or days. Or never. “You’re certain the Revenge will get us there in time?” she said, falling in step with Roberts. ‘In time’ of course, was relative. “She’s even faster than the Wild Stallion, and that’s the fastest hunk of junk in the SOCOM inventory.” Wes had a small, knowing smile on his face. “We’ll get there in time, Commodore.” She stopped abruptly, giving Wes a sharp look. “Commodore?” “A time-honored tradition, as there is only one Captain on a ship, Ma’am. And Revenge does happen to be mine. “I was hoping you and the Commander would enjoy a nice...pleasure cruise for a couple of days.” Her eyes remained on his for a long moment before she turned to resume her pace toward the bridge. “A time-honored tradition,” she repeated, as though mulling it over, leaving the rest of what he had said uncontested. “But contemplating the possible destruction of entire star systems will hardly make it a pleasure cruise... Captain.” “Yes, Commodore, I realize that it won’t be. However, our ‘official’ VIP quarters are much more comfortably done than standard Fleet ships. Besides, you’ve been chomping at the bit ever since I returned to the Station to get some off time, and let another capable officer take the reigns.” Left unsaid was there was only one Romulan he trusted with his life and his ship, but Khaiell was currently aboard the Wild Stallion, not on the Revenge. Seeing and hearing everything, yet remaining deaf and blind out of respect and SOP, the Caitian security officer did allow a gentle smile to play at her muzzle regarding the interplay of tradition. -=-=- Mai was already curled into the seat on his left, as Wes settled into the center seat, the various other ship’s officers seated at their stations, motioning for Kirel to take the seat to his right. Frank Roberts took up a station behind tactical, running the ship’s sensor suite. He hit the intercom button on his seat. “All stations, stand by for departure. Egeanin, thrusters astern.” “Aye aye.” The Betazed helm and operations officer’s fingers flew across her panel. “Moorings are clear. Thrusters firing.” The deck vibrated slightly as the ship backed away from the station. “We’ve cleared the station, external inertial dampeners offline. Ready for warp.” “Belay warp, standby slipstream drive. Set Condition 1, Blue throughout the ship.” Wes turned and looked at Chirakis. “Commodore, I would like to point out one thing. Once we enter slipstream, we’re out of radio contact until we exit the other side. When someone develops a slipstream transmitter-receiver, then we won’t have to worry about that.” Kirel nodded, settling into her position. “I’ll have SubCommander Jorahl get right on it as soon as Romulus is delivered from imminent catastrophe,” she added with a hint of sarcasm - enough to get her point across, but not enough that his bridge crew would count it a reprimand. “I know Sub Commander Jorahl is a most capable officer, but pushing a carrier wave into the quantum slipstream is not like integrating an AQS or cloak into a Federation power grid.” Kirel glanced at him askance, restraining her retort. His ship. His crew. Tapping a couple of buttons on her panel, the lighting on the bridge dimmed, as blue alert trace lights began flashing, as Egeanin tapped the intercom. “All hands set Condition 1, Blue, throughout the ship.” Lights began popping up on her panel. “All stations and sections reporting Condition 1, Blue set throughout the ship.” CDR JoNs maintained a guard posting on the bridge, off to Commodore Chirakis’ right hand side. The felinoid, standing at parade rest, provided a security escort for Chirakis...even if the station commander wasn’t thrilled with the arrangement. She’d also managed to professionally butt heads with the Revenge CSEC, a Tellarite by the name of ‘G.W.’ who insisted he was always right. The Cait female and porcine male kept eyeing one another across the bridge expanse. “Slipstream drive--all ahead flank.” “All ahead flank, aye.” Egeanin’s fingers traced along the throttle strips for the experimental drive system. The Revenge rumbled slightly, before drilling a hole into the quantum slipstream. The forward bridge had a muted blue glow as the vortex was visible through the main viewscreen. “Slipstream is stable, no phase variances detected. ETA to Romulus...35 minutes.” -=-=- Tarod Sector 1031hrs Wes leaned forward in the command chair, his right elbow and left hand resting on their corresponding armrests. It was a pose his bridge crew remembered from many hunting expeditions. “Do we know what we’re getting into yet?” “No idea, sir,” 2d Officer Roberts called from the science terminal. “Sensors are showing both Romulus and Romii to be clear at this time. Except for the evacuation fleet.” The master of the Revenge began issuing his orders. “Gareth, bring us up to yellow alert, shields to standby, once we drop back into normal space. Egeanin, coordinate with Seamus to allocate the necessary power to the cargo transporters. G.W., take appropriate precautions. You know the drill.” “Wes, reverting to normal space in 5...4...3...2...1...Dropping out of slipstream now.” As smoothly as transitioning from warp, the Revenge reverted back to normal space...