Cptn Corizon

The skies were full of stars, and all of them were gray. Alone in the darkness of his quarters, nearly an hour had passed. Still no word from the away team. Corizon sat stoically, legs crossed, hands to his cheeks in an idyllic pose. His eyes fluttered only slightly as thoughts and concern raced through his mind. A thousand still-life images flooded though his mind, waking memories of forgotten people, places and events. So many images passed and went, fading back into gray. The intracity of the mind astonished, as the past merged with the present in a delirious photo stream of events. Life. There was life. Happiness. There was happiness. Sorrow. There was sorrow. And Guilt. Everywhere he turned in his mind, guilt pervaded. In life, he had lived, and others had died. In happiness, he was happy while others were unhappy. And in sorrow, he caused such sorrow. Guilt. Memories and thoughts collided in the photo stream forming a montage of events; some of which he had forgotten, others which seared his mind forever. And then they faded. Faded unto the gray dark abyss of ether that lie in the mind. The gray faded darker and the evils of the night came to play in the mind. Darkness gave way to light, artificial. A man in uniform sitting before him. A monster set to play with his prey. The room had a cold, metallic feel though not a prison. Industrial complex? The figment returns, Captain.

Note from the Author: A huge thanks to my contributors, Odly Condacin, Tristan Xenatos, and the Lovely Colonel Harper. Also a thanks to Ben Mullikin for lending me Captain Shreve. As the Excalibur crew hunts for ghosts in dark places, the rest of the Federation and Romulan fleets continued their patrol and exploration of the surrounding sectors. Captain Jaenson Laokoa sat musingly in the observation lounge of the Intrepid-class USS Manchuria gazing at the blue giant known as Nakio 456, or at least that was the Federation designation for it anyway, the local name for it was something the Vissian captain didn't even want to try to pronounce. They'd been in the Nakio system now for just under two days, just over a week into their patrol and so far it'd been the picture of serenity. The four inhabited systems in their designated patrol area were sparsely inhabited, and were mostly small farming colonies that were in low stages of development. Apparently the Dominion's only real interest in the area was an unusual ore deposit on the fifth planet of the Nakio system, but the mines there had long since been inactive. Tomorrow several away teams were scheduled to explore the mines themselves, while a team from science and engineering was heading down to the only inhabited planet in the system to meet with local leaders to discuss some problem they were having with their aqueduct system. Tipping back a frothy, warm beverage Laokoa sighed happily. Now this was his kind of mission. He only hoped the rest of the fleet had it so easy, and he made a mental note to send a thank you note to Captain Corizon when they returned to base in a few weeks. In the archeology lab of the USS Shinano a be-dreaded figure sat muttering lowly to himself as he scooped a pile of dirt into a soil analyzer. Lt. Jack DeChevel rubbed at his pronounced brow, the most obvious sign he was not a full-blood human. A young enlistee trainee came over with a padd, smiling slightly. "Everything alright, Lieutenant?" The youngish half-Daliwalkan science officer frowned. "Soil samples..." "Sounds like fun. Think on the bright side -- you could be dealing with live Scorpiad younglings!" the woman suggested brightly. "Want some coffee?" she asked, moving towards the replicator. "I'd like to examine their ruins," he said with a smile. "And sure." Sighing he hit the start button on the soil analyzer and leaned back into the grey padding of the silver lab chair. "I mean here we are in the Gamma Quadrant, one of the most unexplored areas accessible to Starfleet Scientists, and I am trying to find out what these bumpkin natives dumped into their soil a few hundred years ago..." She smirked. "Someone has to do the dirty work. Though I admit... it seems a little beneath you..." She tapped a button on the replicator. "Two black coffees," she instructed the device. A smile crossed his face, "Well with Commander Tarinis' team still back on that one planet helping those people design a better flood prevention system, someone had to do it." "See?" She handed one of the mugs to him. "At least you're not playing gofer," she referred to herself with a smirk. "Now, that would be a waste of energies." Looking over the Xenexian for a few moments, he took the coffee and took a drink. "Trying to tell me something, trainee?" "Maybe," she said, taking a gulp of the beverage. "But who would I be to complain? Second month on the job -- not like they're going to assign me to important jobs like dissection or..." she snickered quietly, "...soil analyses." "Maybe," putting the beverage to his lips and setting it back down, "they weren't sure if you could work the equipment." Shrugging, she half-mindedly tapped a weapon at her side. "Could be. Wouldn't be the first time someone underestimated me." Sighing, "But you don't want to listen to a little enlistee gripe, now do you?" "No more than you want to listen to some spoiled Earth-brat officer gripe," he smiled widely. "Spoiled? Hardly. Just... soft," she corrected. "We can't all have grown up under the abject boot of the Danteri," he said honestly as he tapped at the soil analyzer again. "Mmm, thank the gods for the small things, eh?" She took a seat, leaning forward on her elbows. "I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, except for the Danteri themselves, of course. At any rate, any scientist can head to the gym. There aren't signs with 'Security and Marines Only' posted on the doors." "I go three times a week," he said proudly. "I suppose you'd identify with these people better than I ever could..." "Probably," she admitted. "What about you? Lap of luxury?" Pursing her lips, she scrutinized him. "Generally good posture -- raised on Earth -- son of an ambassador?" she asked. "Shop owner and scientist." She nodded, sounding slightly impressed. "Then you didn't do half-badly. As for me..." she paused, finishing her coffee. "My father oversees a province on the homeworld." "And I am the spoiled one," he smirked, but quickly turned his attention to the beeping analyzer. "Now why would that be there..." "What is it?" she inquired, instantly all-business. The central command hub of the Camelot Station was eerily quiet. Commander Corris Sprint sighed in relief. It had been sometime since he could simply sit down to his station log in, and not expect the end of the universe before his shift had ended. With nearly the entire fleet out on patrol, Admiral Day and Captain Sorehl off on some mission, and the Scorpiads busy doing what ever it was that giant, sentient arachnids with a penchant for galactic conquest do, it was completely calm in the Avalon system. Behind him a set of door slid open and Captain David Shreve strolled in carrying a silver mug of something heated. “Commander,” he said with a grin. “What's the latest news?” Sprint looked towards the console quickly. “Nothing to report Captain,” he said. “Colonel Kimura seems to have everything in control.” Shreve nodded before making his way over to the central holotable to look over the positions of the ships under his command. With Camelot Station moved into orbit above Avalon, the small fleet he had at his disposal was free to look after the edges of Avalonian space. He'd instructed the fleet to create a perimeter around the system, keeping watch for anything unsightly. So far though it had been tranquil and calm. The Scorpiads and their alies apparently had no interest in taking advantage of the comparative weakness of the Federation fleet. There was the few Klingon vessels left behind when K'Vorlag had reassigned most of them to intelligence gathering; not that Shreve minded that though—in this war, any information they could gather would be useful, but other than that, if the Scorpiads decided to attack full on, there would be little Shreve could do to stop them. “Contact the Isonzo and tell Commander Zah'kal to return to base, the Phoenix will take her place in the patrol route for a few days.” “Understood,” Corris said without hesitation. “Will you be going with them, sir?” Looking a bit surprised by the question Shreve smirked. “I am not one of these 'adminstrative' types,” he said wryly, “I'll be on the Phoenix and out of your hair. You know where to call if there's a problem, Commander.” “Of course, Captain.” The darkness of his quarters paled only in comparison to that of the space outside the bulkhead of the Aida. The soft, gentle recitations of prayers passed down through generations echoed softly along the metallic surfaces of the room. With each breath time itself felt slowed. Peace and serenity. It was a luxury that had not been afforded to most of the crew of the Aida in many months, but now one they seemed to have in abundance. Sheng-Ji Marish was grateful for the respite, and was planning on thanking his former teacher and mentor for the assignment at the earliest opportunity—eleven weeks from now. Till then, he was planning on enjoying the rather quiet patrol route his ship had been given, focusing his free time on his studies of ancient texts and meditating. As the Aida skimmed softly at low warp, his thoughts returned to his master. Something had been troubling Corizon; something more pressing than the knowledge of the rain. Sheng-Ji could not place it yet, but there was a change in Ah-Windu, but what it was...and for good or bad he could not tell. For now though, there was little the younger Dameon could do to address the situation. So he let the thoughts fade into the darkness of shadows. It would be another seven days before they would arrive at the next stopping point of the patrol route, and there would be plenty of time for thoughts on things he could not alter. So for now, he focused on the tranquility of his self. In a stuffy Jefferies tube of deck 5 of the USS Ollie, Ensign Xc-ieen lay flat against the metallic floors, sweat dripping down his face, staining his uniform. The hatch slide open with a hiss-click, and Barnes crawled through. "Xc-ieen?" The aquamarine skinned Engineering officer set up. They never had learned to pronounce his name -- primitive speech centers. "Hello?" "Lt. Colburn wants to know your status," Barnes replied, sticking his head into the tube the voice had come from. Colburn. Barnes. Such...simple names. The humans really were a dull race; even their spiciest food barely registered on his pallet. It was like living with the dead. And only one skin tone. And one gender. It was frightening really. "Well it would be better if they didn't keep getting fired on by pirates...or running into asteroid fields." Barnes smirked at the blue tinted creature in front of him. It must put one in such a bad mood to be tinted such a neon color... "We are on a Starfleet vessel, in an unexplored quadrant. You expected smooth sailing?" Xc-ieen rolled his eyes. "What I'd like is for some off time for repairs," he said grumbling. "We barely get one thing fixed before they have us off fighting them or that. If it's not Hundred, it's those vampire things, and if its not them it's some substandard pirates." Barnes slid into the other end of the tube, popping open a hatch, and fishing a repair kit from a compartment in the wall. "Look on the bright side," he said flashing a smile. "At least it's not the Borg." "Oh no," Xc-ieen said sardonically, "they just erase your memories. These giant, arachnid things probably feed you to their young. Mmmm tasty," "Be optimistic....maybe they are allergic to sushi," Barnes reached up into the compartment and began checking the chips inside, over the past few weeks most of the chip sets had begun to burn out. Only one of the setbacks of being in the middle of nowhere without regular starbase overhauls... "I am not aquatic," Xc-ieen growled as he jabbed a spanner into the proper location. "And last I checked you hu-mons did poorly underwater with out breathing apparati." Looking rather proud of himself, "Or do you have a set of gills hidden away somewhere?" "I will have you know I was a renowned free diver during my last two years at the Academy," he retorted as he placed the last of the chips back into place. This set was still functional...for now. Xc-ieen grasped the set of wiring that had been eluding him and began pulling on it gently at first, then not so gently. "So," he said pulling on the cables. "If I hold you underwater for a few hours, you'll come up alive?" Barnes looked down the tube at his fellow engineer. "If I did not know we were such good friends, I might take that as a threat..." The sarcasm was evident as Barnes replaced the cover and snapped it closed. "Point. Set. Match." The multicolor engineer smirked. "Or something like that. It's from that hu-mon game of yours where two people run around trying to hit a yellow ball with a racket." "Tennis, the game is tennis," Barnes said, sliding down the tube a bit farther to check the next set of relays. "If you are going to make fun of our sports, at least learn the names..." "Tennis," he said smirking even wider. "What ever you want to call it." Grabbing at a coil of new wires, Xc-ieen placed both of his hands in the hole above him and began connecting ends in the proper locations. "At least my culture has amusing sports," Barnes said grabbing the next chip in the line. As he removed it, it slipped from his grip, his hands begging to sweat in the confined area. He heard it clink to the deck beside him and began to feel for it. "Damnit." Before Xc-ieen could respond with an equally witty response, the wail of a red alert klaxon, followed shortly by the shaking of the ship interrupted him. Barnes found the chip, and quickly jammed it back into place. "Here we go again," he said sliding down the tube. Colonel Kimura looked out the tiny window in his minuscule office -- nee closet -- and gave in to the urge to groan. Things were rapidly spiraling out of his control. Pulling a PADD from his walking jacket, Doctor Shujinko Akia rapped his fingers on the office door of the commanding officer of Avalon base. Straightening up, Kimura wiped the fatigue from his features and turned to the door. "Come," he said crisply. Akia entered and headed straight for the desk and chairs at the other end of the rather cramped room. "Colonel," he said respectfully, tipping his head slightly as he'd been programed to do towards an elder since nearly birth. "You asked to see me?" "Thank you for coming, Doctor," the colonel said. "I know you're busy." He drew out the desk chair the whole 20 centimeters it could move and squeezed into the seat. "What can you tell me about this virus?" Taking his seat as well, which he found rather...spartan by Starfleet Standards, Akia sighed softly and looked towards his PADD as small beads of sweat formed. "It's the darnedest thing Colonel." "Elaborate," Kimura said, not having the patience to beat around the bush when half of the colony's skeleton staff was in the infirmary and the other half pretending to be well enough not to be. "Well at first I thought it was Allgaivine's Fever," he said trying to figure out how to put it in terms the Marine could understand easily. "Or at least a mutation of it native to this planet." "But it's not," growled the Marine, "because we can vaccinate against that, to say nothing of the effectiveness of a broad-spectrum antibiotic. What is it, Doctor?" He shook his head, "If I knew that, I'd not be here. It's something coming out of our water supply, because the Romulans haven't reported anything from their colony site." "And the drinking water was the only common thing among those infected." Kimura frowned, considering the possibility that the Romulans – blasted stubborn haughty lot that they were - wouldn't admit to having the disease if they were all on their deathbeds. "Well, call up to Camelot and have them beam down more replicators, and use the emergency supplies." Akia nodded, "Of course, sir. What about you, Colonel," Akia continued. "How are you holding up?” "I'm fine," Kimura replied, grateful that even doctors didn't take such license in Starfleet as to touch a colonel's face without permission. The room was unaccountably cool to him, and yet he'd noticed his reflection looked flushed. "Or as fine as I can be trying to run a base with about a quarter of the staff I need to do it." Lifting one of his dark eyebrow Akia looked towards the Colonel, "Are you sure, because if you should start to feel hot, and flushed..." "You sawbones will drag me off to your chamber of horrors, and do you know who's next in command here? And healthy enough to do the job," he added quickly. "You're probably better off staying in your office, all we can do in medical right now is make you comfortable," Akia said quickly, noting the famed aversion for medical by commanding officers. Kimura scowled. "I assure you, Doctor, I have absolutely no intention of leaving command of this base to Ensign Rolland. I will be staying right here." "If you don't mind though, sir" Akia looked sheepishly on, pausing before he continued. "I'd like to take a sample of your blood for study, I am trying to see if this is more than just some bacteria." The colonel tapped one finger against the desk slowly. Finally, he said, "So long as the sample is not labeled, Doctor." Command Officers. Akia took a deep breath and reached for hypospray. "Deal." Kimura rolled up one sleeve, extending his arm across the desk. Pressing the hypo against the arm, Akia took the sample and clicked it lightly, just to make sure it wouldn't turn to a murky brown color—old habit die hard. "Looks like I've got everything I need," he said when the blood continued to be blood. "Very good, Doctor," Kimura said, pulling down his sleeve and noting the tap with approval. "Then I won't take any more of your time." "I'll get back to you as soon as I found out anything else, Colonel."

One of the new features I know they added with the upgrade is that you can have a different display name than your use name, EG: Cptn_Corizon would be the user name but the display name could be Captain Corizon for the same account, but I think that's only applicable if you registered the name after the next to last board upgrade.

Making his escape from the clutches of sickbay, Corizon changed uniforms and headed for the bridge to find out what the situation was with the other away team. There was an old human addage about wishing one had never got out of bed, he had begun to understand it. Sitting on the bridge, Zier continued to attempt contact with the remaining Away Team on the surface. It made no sense - the Hunters who had jammed the comm lines earlier had all been taken care of, yet they were still getting static from the surface. The sight of a counselor manning the bridge caused Corizon's ears to twitch ever so slightly. "Status Report," he commanded as he stalked to his center seat. Alexander jumped up. "Err....oh, Captain. We still have one Away Team on the surface, Commander Laarell's....I can't establish communications with them." He could sense that Corizon was a bit put-off by his taking command. The sound that escaped Corizon's mouth could only be described as a mixture between a sigh and a growl. "When was our last communication with them?" "A few minutes before the Hunters who attacked you began jamming communications and transports." "They shouldn't still be jamming us.." Zier nodded. "You were able to call the ship, so the jamming signal must be down sir." Moving from the Command seat to an empty console, Corizon pulled up the communications system. "Or the source of the jamming changed." Zier moved to another console, trying to be helpful. "We had them on the tactical screen until a few minutes ago..." "An away team just doesn't up and disappear," Corizon said pointedly. Zier looked at him. "Yes, sir." He didn't know what else to put forth. Softening the features upon his face Corizon turned towards Zier. The man was a counselor, not a bridge officer. "It's not you're fault." Zier relaxed as he heard that, though only slightly. "What are we going to do, sir?" That was the question swirling in his mind. "We're going to go looking for them..." Zier nodded. "I'll copy all the data we received before they disappeared to a PADD." "Round up a few security officers," Corizon said rising from the console, "And tell Pilot to meet us in the transporter room in one hour..." "Right away sir." He looked at his console, finished the data transfer, and sent off messages to Security. It occurred to Corizon that the other away team had likely walked into a trap, and that by leading a second away team down, he too could be walking into a trap. Zier looked over toward him. "We'll just have to be careful, sir." "Right..."

The USS Excalibur will not be running on December 24 and 31 due to the holidays. Though players wishing to gather informally are welcome to do so. Have a safe and happy Holiday Season.

To: Personnel Office Starfleet Command, Earth From: Captain Ah-Windu Corizon U.S.S. Excalibur, NCC-2004-B Re: Alexander Zier -------------------------------------------------------------- This communique is to serve as notice that effective Stardate 0512.17, Ensign Alexander Zier has been promoted to the rank of Lieutenant, Junior Grade. This decision comes after extended review of his service and dedication to the U.S.S. Excalibur. It is a pleasure to have such a capable officer aboard and I sincerely hope we will profit from his assistance in the future.

The Excalibur Command Staff is pleased to announce that the following Awards will be presented to members of the Excalibur crew for the 2006 Year. Excalibur Starburst of Excellence: Awarded yearly to the simmer who most exemplifies the Excalibur mission; contributing logs, attendance, and overall excellence in play. To be selected by the command team. Tandaris Admiran Crispin Xavier Stamina Medal: Awarded yearly to the player with the best overall attendance, and named in honor of former player Crispin Xavier. Awarded by the command team. Laarell Teykier Captain’s Quill and PADD Award: Awarded yearly for the best log, or best series of logs; given by Captain Ah-Windu Corizon. Atticus Segami Victria Meritorious Achievement Award: Awarded to the simmers for excellence in log writing. To be selected by the command team. Tristan Xenatos Tandaris Admiran Marius tr'Lorin Laarell Teykier Sorehl Service Stripe: Awarded to the simmers for every 25 sims attended. Tristan Xenatos Tandaris Admiran Marius tr'Lorin Laarell Teykier E. J. Pilot Atticus Segami Ah-Windu Corizon Bronze: Awarded to the simmers for 10 consecutive sims attended. Victria Alexander Zier Promotions: Alexander Zier: from Ensign to Lt (Jg)

Updated With Winners

Mission "Brief": The Away team lead by Lt.Cdr Teykier continues to search for their lost guide, who they are are increasingly sure has either abandoned them or is leading them straight into a trap. However an unusual energy signal coming from a derelict building has drawn their attention and they are investigating Meanwhile, Captain Corizon and Victria head off the Hunting party before they can stalk down the Away Team, battle ensues. Aboard the Excalibur, the bridge crew continues to try and give aide to the out numbered and and aforementioned away teams, however communication is being blocked, as are transporters. And then there is the problem with the Scorpiad fighter that Tandaris and tr'Lorin continue to try and solve. Elsewhere, the Reliant continues to search for our missing Ambassadors 121706.txt 121706.pdf

The stars streaming past on the viewscreen slowed suddenly. The man in the center seat looked up expectantly. Outside, the sleek lines of a Soverign class battleship were flanked by two Norway-class frigates and an Akira class cruiser. Turning back from her console, the operations officer addressed him swiftly. "Entering the Melkas system now, Admiral," she announced, looking at the readings. "Melkas III in four minutes." The man in the center seat nodded, an ear cocked to one side. "Signal the fleet, all weapons on stand by." Behind him his tactical officer continued eying the readings before him, "Still no sign of the attackers on long range scanners...or the Agincourt." "Fleet reports weapons on standby. No readings coming in from the other ships that are getting anything we aren't." Odd, the Orion thought, that ships could disappear that easily with so little information being available for further investigation. Rear Admiral Ah-Windu Corizon stroked very carefully at his non-existent beard. His yellow eyes darted across the screen as he gave the situation a careful analysis. Standing, he walked slowly foreward from the command hub towards the front of the bridge. "How long until we have visual?" Laarell glanced at the chrono again. "Two and a half minutes. Not that it will necessary aid us overmuch..." her voice trailed off. "Damn," Corizon said, a growl forming in his throat. "What about the Gideon?" "Nothing concrete," she paused, glancing at the sensor readings. "I'm reading debris that matches the remains of a Federation vessel. It could posisbly be the remains of Gideon." Closing his eyes for a moment, Corizon repressed an inner urge. "And no sign of the attackers? The tactical officer shook his head, "None." Returning to his seat, the lankish commanding officer sighed deeply. This brought back all to many unpleasant memories. The black parade was starting once more. "You'd think," he said looking directly towards his operations officer, "that we'd seen enough of this sort of thing for one lifetime." "You would think," she concurred, with a sigh. "We seem to be stuck in a recurring cycle here," she said, frowning at the readout of the debris field. "It'd be nice to break out of it one of these days." Wishful thinking -- what bliss. "Stand down red alert," he said softly. "Signal the fleet to begin a search pattern. Let's start trying to piece together what happened here. And get me the colony on a secure line in my ready room..." ~ “Thank you, Governor...” The screen on the desk blinked and faded to the all to familiar logo of the Starfleet before fading entirely into darkness. Suddenly finding himself looking into a mirror, Corizon fluttered his eyes. Age had finally begun to wear upon his face. Age and war. He'd spent nearly his entire life in the Fleet, and nearly all of that had been spent in one war or the other. If he wasn't fighting Cardassians, then he was fighting Dominion, and if wasn't fighting them, then it was the Hundred, or the Al-Ucardians, or the Scorpiads, or the Tal'Shiar. Sighing he shook the thoughts of discarded dreams from his mind and returned to the present. The subtle chime at his door was certainly a welcome distraction. “Enter.” Entering the room, walking in measured steps was what appeared to be a younger version of the veteran Admiral. Tall, lanky and carrying himself with great pride, Captain Sheng-Ji Marish approached Corizon's desk. A few steps behind him walked a Bajoran marine. Something about him was familiar to Corizon, but he couldn't place it. He assumed, by the rank pip he wore, that he was the Captain's head jarhead. “Admiral,” the Captain said neutrally. “Have a seat Sheng-Ji.” Marish took his seat opposite the Captain, while the Marine stood loosely at attention. “What were you able to learn from the colonial authorities?” “Oh,” Corizon said with a rare grin, “that the planet was attacked by an unknown alien force and the Agincourt, aided by the Gideon managed to drive them off...” “But not before the Gideon was destroyed,” Sheng-Ji continued. “But of the Agincourt?” “Now there's the million bars of latnium question,” Corizon said leaning back into his seat. “They're getting us the sensor records now, but apparently the attacking vessels created some sort of vortex and were able to escape through it...the same way they came.” “Let me guess,” the Lt.Colonel chimed in, “The 'Court followed them when they made a run for it.” Corizon nodded, a little surprised at the Bajoran. Sheng-Ji smiled ever slightly, just enough to let a fanged grin cross his face. “Admiral, I'd like to introduce you to my Marine Commander, Lt. Colonel Korix Vaos.” Studying the Bajoran for a moment, Corizon suddenly realized where he knew the face from, and the name sealed it. “I think we met...once.” Korix nodded, “Yes I think so...it was a fairly brief encounter though.” “I assume though there's a reason you knew that the Agincourt followed the attackers, though?” Corizon's question was pointed, but not sharp. It was more out of curiosity than anything else. Subconsciously straightening his uniform Korix dipped his head slightly. “I served aboard her a while back,” his voice was measured, as though he wasn't entirely comfortable with the subject. “She's got a great crew...” “So I hear,” Corizon said distantly. Subconsciously his mind was working too. The Agincourt did have a fine crew, and a find command staff. He didn't know much about Davies, but her XO...her he knew. Korix and Marish continued to talk, but Corizon wasn't paying the utmost attention, his thoughts turned to the first time he ever met Charlotte Harper. A lone figure stood in the corner of the bar, yellow eyes examining the officer sitting down for a drink. She'd just come into the bar, a typical place for an officer who'd just finished a tour of duty. Charlie Harper settled down at the end of the long bar, nodding slightly at the bartender when he made eye contact. A minute later, she had a snifter of Saurian brandy in front of her, and the privacy to drink it without chatter. Although no orders had been cut yet, she knew her tour on the Kyushu was almost over. The promotion to Lieutenant Major sealed it -- there wasn't really room for another major in the 72nd. She wasn't sure she was ready to leave yet. Moving through the shadows, he crept silently. Stealth had its advantages. Coming from behind, he placed a clawed finger on Harper's shoulder. "Lieutenant Major Charlotte Harper," it wasn't a question. The touch of something sharp on her shoulder was nearly enough to make her thrust an elbow back sharply; she caught herself just before she would have struck whomever had sneaked up behind her. Federation starbase, she reminded herself firmly. Turning, she looked up at a man with a decidedly canine appearance, right down to the ears. He wore a Starfleet uniform, like many of the bar's patrons. "And you are?" she asked, belatedly adding, "sir," as her eyes landed on his captain's pips. "Captain Ah-Windu Corizon," He said lowly, as if he didn't want it heard, the ears twitching slightly to either side. "I have orders for you to come with me." She bristled. "What is this about, Captain?" Flipping an ear back, he shook his head. "Not here," he said firmly. "Now, if you'll follow me." Her eyes narrowed, but as she had no good reason to refuse, she stood and allowed him to lead her away from the bar. Leading her through the civilian section, and into the administrative wing, they found themselves in a small, Spartan office with little more than a few chairs and a desk. "Have a seat." She remained standing. Folding her arms, she said, "With all due respect, Captain, I'd like to know what this is about." "I am sure you do," he said making his way to the replicator. "Would you like something to drink?" What she wanted was the Saurian brandy abandoned in the bar, but she had a feeling that alcohol was not a good idea at the moment. "I had something to drink," she pointed out, but grudgingly requested a Bolian tonic water. Returning with a bottle of Saurian brandy, he placed it on the table. "I hear you've earned that." "Thank you.” Marginally mollified, she sat down. "I still want that explanation." "In good time," he sat down in a chair across from her. "I understand you were recently promoted?" She turned the snifter in her hands. "Am I supposed to be impressed that you've read my service record, Captain?" "I'd hope not," he smirked, showing his fangs for the first time. She studied him for a long moment. "Can we cut the chit-chat? Clearly you know a good deal about me, probably more than what's in my files. I don't know you from Adam, but you've evidently got something important to talk about.” There was a reason she'd been chosen. "You're a quick one, I like that." "You have no idea how thrilled I am to hear that," she replied flatly. As if making a mental note, "Sense of humor could use some work," he smirked. "I guess that's why she's a marine..." Harper sipped her brandy and waited, patiently. Tapping a claw on the desk, letting the sound echo across the bare walls, he looked her over a few times. "Major, I am going to be straightforward with you..." Finally, she thought, but said nothing, merely putting her eyebrows up expectantly. "I have some orders for you," he said, producing a PADD, "but I don't get to tell you where they're coming from... Now you can walk away now, and never see me again...or you can take them...your choice...I'll even let you keep the bottle of Brandy." "Why me?" she asked, eyes on the PADD in his hand. What sort of mission he was talking about was evident, but she hadn't done any covert work. Nor, indeed, ever expressed interest in doing so. "I am afraid I am not completely at liberty to discuss that," he gave her a sly look, "but I think you know, you wouldn't be here if we didn't think you had the right stuff." "Do I at least get a hint as to what the mission entails?" she asked, repressing a sigh. He handed her the PADD. "That’s all I am allowed to tell you.” Corizon obviously knew much more than he was letting on. He'd spent the better part of his adult life, and Starfleet career in the organization that was recruiting the young Lieutenant Major. Setting down the snifter with a quiet, precise click, she accepted the PADD. A murmured apology to her host, and she was absorbed in the information on the screen. At last she looked up at Corizon. "You realize I've never done anything like this before.” It was not a question. A confirming nod, "Yes I do, but everyone starts somewhere." She tapped the corner of the PADD against her thigh restlessly. "Say I accept... and say I can pull this off." She flapped the PADD at him once, then returned to the rhythmic tapping. "What happens after?" Glancing at her, "Then you'll have another choice to make." "That being?” She arched a brow. "I think you know what choice that is," he gave her a look. "You're smart...even for a jarhead." She gave him a flat look. "Are we talking about a career? Because I don't think I'd care for this sort of randomly appearing assignment interrupting my life." Bristling, he gave her a look. "Yes...career..." She tipped the PADD to read it through again, considering. "And... if I refuse the assignment?" "Then you walk out that door, no strings or questions asked." Blinking, he realized that both Vaos and Marish were no longer in the room, apparently he'd been on autopilot the whole time, paying just enough attention to them to keep them from realizing he wasn't paying any attention to them at all. Either that or they'd realized he was off in la-la land daydreaming about past events. Not entirely sure of how much time had actually passed he glanced towards the chrono on his sparsely decorated desk. It had been much longer than he'd anticipated, that much was certain. He stood and walked towards the window gazing into space. ~ Standing once more at his window, as if time had stood still, Corizon sighed. It had been nearly 48-hours since the crew of the Agincourt, and apparently most of the crew of the Gideon, had gone missing. Two more ships had joined the small fleet under his flag, and they were tearing the system apart, but there was no sign of the Agincourt. The wreckage of the Gideon, on the other hand, was being collected piece by piece and analyzed. As were fragments that appeared to have come from one of the attacking vessels. That was likely the best hope for finding out exactly what was going on here. Something though told the Dameon that it wasn't good. A call at the door caused his ears to rise slightly before he said enter lightly. “Admiral,” it was the voice of Toramon Komarzad. “We have some of the results from the analysis of the wreckage and of the sensor readouts.” “Go ahead...” Komarzad nodded to Corizon's back and looked down to the PADD in his hands. “First, we've been able to determine that the Gideon was destroyed by damage in the firefight, but we're still trying to determine the type of weapons the raiders were using.” “And the wreckage of the raiders?” “It's not like anything we've ever seen.” “Oh?” Corizon said turning around. “There aren't any matches in the database at all,” the Trill security officer said resignedly. “We're looking at a first contact situation here.” Corizon nodded, mentally filing the information away. He'd seen the sensor records himself, and had examined them at some length. When the reports first came out that the ships seemed to be based on some sort of organic technology, his heart skipped more than a few beats. His fears were allayed though after watching the records. “And the vortex?” Komarzad scratched at his head for a moment, “Well science isn't completely sure. They're working with the other ships on it, but as near they can figure it’s some sort of subspace tear.” A wave of nausea and annoyance, followed by anxiety washed over Corizon. “Then the Agincourt isn't going to be found anytime soon.” “That's what the scientific opinion seems to be right now, sir.” “And the origin of the attackers?” “Unknown, but likely not from our section of the galaxy” Corizon shook his head, rolling his eyes. Lifting a brow Komarzad went out on a limb. “Something wrong Admiral?” “Three. Count'em. Three times now I've been the guy who has to deal with alien invaders from another quadrant who want to take over ours.” Komarzad stifled a small laugh. “Well, Admiral,” he replied, continuing to bite back a smirk, “we have to have someone that's always on call to save the galaxy from Imminent Peril.” “You'd think I would have burned off enough karma now to not get stuck with this kind of thing...again,” Corizon continued, ignoring Komarzad's comment. “I swear, the next time they report an unknown attacker and want me to go investigate...I am going back to bed.” “Yes, sir.” Komarzad couldn't hide the grin any longer, “I'll be sure and remind you of that next time.” ~ The lounge was quiet; it was past midnight and only a few stragglers were even up, save for the poor souls who'd drawn delta shift rotation. Ah-Windu Corizon sat alone at the bar, a snifter of Saurian brandy in his hand, another full, yet untouched, snifter setting alone beside him. “Agincourt,” he said to himself, “You've got Medusa with you...I hope that's enough.” He put the snifter to his lips, letting the liquid flow down his throat as the memories of the last time he saw Charlotte Harper entered his mind. A lone figure stood in the corner of the bar, yellow eyes examining the officer sitting down for a drink. She'd just come into the bar, a typical place for a professor who'd just finished a tour of her students work. Charlie Harper settled down at the end of the long bar, nodding slightly at the bartender when he made eye contact. A minute later, she had a snifter of Saurian brandy in front of her, and the privacy to drink it without chatter. Although no orders had been cut yet, she knew her exile to academia was almost over. The communiqué from the Utopia shipyards sealed it -- they were eager for another Marine perspective on the project. She was more than ready to leave. Moving through the shadows, he crept silently. Stealth had its advantages. Coming from behind, he placed a clawed finger on Harper's shoulder. "Lt. Colonel Charlotte Harper," it wasn't a question. The touch of something sharp on her shoulder was nearly enough to make her thrust an elbow back sharply; she caught herself just before she would have struck whomever had snuck up behind her. Starfleet Headquarters, she reminded herself firmly, as recognition of the voice filtered in. Turning, she looked up at a man with a decidedly canine appearance, right down to the ears. He wore a Starfleet uniform, like the rest of the bar's patrons. "Captain Ah-Windu Corizon," she said neutrally. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" "I have orders to buy you a drink." He said stoically, the ears twitching slightly to either side. "But it appears you already have one." A slight smile curved her lips. "You can buy the next round." She motioned him to the chair beside her. He took a seat and called the bar keep for a drink of his own--Anarian Whiskey. "I hear your exile on Elba's almost over." "Hardly an auspicious metaphor, Captain," she replied dryly, sipping her brandy. "But I'm impressed. Your information network is formidable." "I suppose," he smiled widely, showing his fangs as he brought his own drink up. "I have a few friends in the right places." Charlie grinned. "You always did." "So, they tell you which ship you'll be on yet?" That got a laugh. "Ah, it seems your network is slipping at last," she answered. "I'm still stuck dirtside; I'm just transferring to the Prometheus Project. Marine Liason, or whatever title they think up for it." The yellow eyes danced across the bar. Corizon either knew more than he was letting on, or his network was slipping, either way it didn't show. "Ah, I see. They've got me so busy teaching these younglings about how to aim a phaser I don't have enough time to keep up with what they're up to these days." "Please tell me yours are doing better than mine, then," Harper said fervently. "Or I'll have to start avoiding every armed ensign I see." "They finally figured out that if you press the green button, it goes boom." He made an illustration with his hands. "And that was their final." She took a large sip of her drink. "The frightening part is, I'm not entirely certain you're joking." "Now you know how I felt when you were a cadet.." Toying idly with her half-empty glass, she said, "I don't remember being that young." "Your generation didn't have time to be young," he said reflectively. "Too much war in your lifetimes." She mulled that over for a while. "No more than yours, really." He laughed softly, "The woman has a point..." After a long silence, Corizon looked at the officer setting beside him. "Looking forward to being out in space again?" "Odd, isn't it? For a ground-pounder, I mean." "Just a bit." "I just..." She sighed, and tossed back the rest of her drink. "I feel useless here." "It's understandable," he said, finishing his own drink, "You're a soldier. You were trained to fight." A shudder passed through her, and she raised a hand to signal the bartender for a refill. "I've seen enough fighting," she said frankly. "I want to help keep the peace." "There was a motto on the first ship I served on for any amount of time,” he said as he ordered their next drinks. "We seek peace by the sword, but peace only under liberty.” "A good one," she agreed, as the bartender filled their glasses. "Here's to peace, then." "To peace." He clicked his glass gently against hers. Setting down the empty snifter he took up the second one, looking at it very carefully. Peace. The last two years had been such a dramatic change from the prior 15 years. Almost enough to make Corizon forget how much death and destruction soldiers like he and Harper had seen. But days like today reminded him otherwise. He raised the glass once more. “To Peace,” he said softly. “And to the Agincourt...may you find your way home through the wilderness unharmed.”

The Away team lead by Lt.Cdr Teykier continues to search for their lost guide, who they are are increasingly sure has either abandoned them or is leading them straight into a trap. However an unusual energy signal coming from a derelict building has drawn their attention and they are investigating. Meanwhile, Captain Corizon and Victria head off the Hunting party before they can stalk down the Away Team, battle ensues. Aboard the Excalibur, the bridge crew continues to try and give aide to the out numbered and and aforementioned away teams, however communication is being blocked, as are transporters. And then there is the problem with the Scorpiad fighter that Tandaris and tr'Lorin continue to try and solve. Elsewhere, the Reliant continues to search for our missing Ambassadors.

Happy Belated B-Day to Evil the Noun ~Evil the Adjective in Training

MISSION BRIEF: Ja'i has gone "poof", treachery is thought. Corizon and Vici are going to go intercept the Hunt team headed towards the AT. Malfunctions are happening on the ship. 121006.txt 121006.pdf

Mission Brief: The AT is nearing the "bad part" of town, where the "ghost stories" orginate. On Excalibur, the bridge continues to consider what the Al-Ucardians are upto. Sorehl has a lead in the hunt for the missing ambassadors. 120306.txt 120306.pdf

Sadly, when you live on the otherside of the country, driving =/= not an option. So for moi, the big expense is going to be travel. :P

Thanks to my co-author, the lovely Colonel Harper Eyes. There were eyes watching. Halous Globus could feel them watching him, even if the naked eye could not see him. He moved subtly through the cityscape and into the open air of large park. Siyar leaned against a tree, half-hidden by its large trunk and obscured by the shadows cast by its leafy crest. Her quarry was easy to follow; his nervous gait might as well have painted him in screaming neon colors. Turning slightly, he pressed a small button and shimmered. He only hoped the holocloak would have enough power to last until he could reach safety. She blinked. Between one second and the next he had vanished. Stepping out from behind the tree, she strode quickly towards the last place she had seen him. Globus picked up his pace, clearly trying to distance himself. Of course he'd been hunted before. All of his people had, but until recently, they'd had a rather long period of freedom in this new land. Now, though, there was little refuge from the Hunters. Baring her fangs in a quick flash of irritation, Siyar drew a small scanner from her pocket. Carefully she tuned it; if the Ghost was smart, his cloak would cover biosigns, but plain heat was often overlooked. A faint trail of red, already blurring against the sun-warmed pavement, gave her course. Making a shift in course, he pressed into an open grassy field. The sun had brought out many locals, and navigating them would be tricky, if not impossible for his hunter. She scowled at the crowd the prey had led her to. This Ghost was clever. A small smile eased over her features; a challenging hunt would be more rewarding.

Eritan Hive -Class Mark I Mothership Type Super Battle Carrier Unit Run Unknown Commissioned Unknown Dimensions Length : 5,545 m Beam : 3,450 m Height : 470 m Decks : 50 Mass: 45,500,100 metric tons Crew 15,000 troops, officers and Flight Crews Armament 60 x Class III- Phased Plasma Canons 20 x Photon Torpedo Launchers (+10000 Torpedoes) 3 x Heavy Phased Graviton Beam Emitters Defense Systems Bio-organic Hull High level Structural Integrity Field Warp Speeds (TNG scale) Normal Cruise: 5.0 Maximum Cruise : 6.2 Maximum Rated : 8.03 for 20 hours. Diplomatic Capability Unknown Expected Hull Life Unknown Wrath-class Dart Type Fighter Unit Run Unknown Commissioned Unknown Dimensions Length : 15 m Beam : 18 m Height : 8 m Decks : 1 Mass: 450 metric tons Crew 2 Flight Crews Armament 2 x Class II- Phased Plasma Canons 1 x Culling Beam Defense Systems Bio-organic Hull High level Structural Integrity Field Warp Speeds (TNG scale) Impulse Only Diplomatic Capability Unknown Expected Hull Life Unknown

Al-Ucardian Executioner -Class Mark I Battle Carrier Type Battleship Unit Run Unknown Commissioned Unknown Dimensions Length : 3,650 m Beam : 631 m Height : 375 m Decks : 60 Mass: 28,200,140 metric tons Crew 2000 troops, officers and Flight Crews Armament 12 x Class I- Phased Graviton Canons 30 x Mark III Plasma Canon Turrets 8 x Type 2X Plasma Pulse Cannons 3 x Tri-Cobalt Torpedo Launchers (+500 Torpedoes) 2 x Heavy Phased Graviton Beam Emitters 15 x Type 1 Pulse Photon Torpedoes Launchers (+7500 Torpedoes) Defense Systems High Capacity shield system, total capacity 3,450,000 TeraJoules Standard Duranium/Tritanium Double hull plus 5 cm reflective amour. High level Structural Integrity Field Warp Speeds (TNG scale) Normal Cruise: 6.3 Maximum Cruise : 7.8 Maximum Rated : 9.03 for 10 hours. Diplomatic Capability Unknown Expected Hull Life 120 years Refit Cycle Minor : 5 year Standard : 15 years Major : 30 years Nightstalker -Class Mark I Cruiser Type Heavy Destroyer Unit Run Unknown Commissioned Unknown Dimensions Length : 530 m Beam : 200 m Height : 175 m Decks : 14 Mass: 2,005,000 metric tons Crew 300 troops, officers and Flight Crews Armament 2 x Class I- Phased Graviton Canons 3 x Type Plasma Pulse Cannons 1 x Tri-Cobalt Torpedo Launchers (+50 Torpedoes) 2 x Dual Light Phased Graviton Beam Emitters 3 x Type 1 Pulse Photon Torpedoes Launchers (+300 Torpedoes) Defense Systems High Capacity shield system, total capacity 2,450,000 TeraJoules Standard Duranium/Tritanium Double hull plus 2 cm reflective amour. High level Structural Integrity Field Warp Speeds (TNG scale) Normal Cruise: 7.6 Maximum Cruise : 9.2 Maximum Rated : 9.93 for 12 hours. Diplomatic Capability Unknown Expected Hull Life 120 years Refit Cycle Minor : 5 year Standard : 15 years Major : 30 years Hunter -Class Mark III Interceptor Type Medium Frigate Unit Run Unknown Commissioned Unknown Dimensions Length : 150 m Beam : 200 m Height : 50 m Decks : 5 Mass: 705,000 metric tons Crew 50 Officers Armament 4 x Type 3 Dual Phased Polaron Pulse Cannons 1 x Light Phased Graviton Beam Emitters 2 x Type 2 Pulse Photon Torpedoes Launchers (+100 Torpedoes) Defense Systems High Capacity shield system, total capacity 1,450,000 TeraJoules Standard Duranium/Tritanium Double hull plus 2 cm reflective amour. High level Structural Integrity Field Warp Speeds (TNG scale) Normal Cruise: 8.5 Maximum Cruise : 9.95 Maximum Rated : 9.98 for 18 hours. Diplomatic Capability Unknown Expected Hull Life 120 years Refit Cycle Minor : 5 year Standard : 15 years Major : 30 years Phantom -Class Mark V Light Interceptor Type Heavy Scout Unit Run Unknown Commissioned Unknown Dimensions Length : 60 m Beam : 40 m Height : 20 m Decks : 2 Mass: 205,000 metric tons Crew 20 Officers Armament 1 x Type 1 Dual Pulse Cannon 1 x Light Phased Graviton Beam Emitter 2 x Type 2 Pulse Photon Torpedoes Launchers (+100 Torpedoes) Defense Systems High Capacity shield system, total capacity 1,450,000 TeraJoules Standard Duranium/Tritanium Double hull plus 2 cm reflective amour. High level Structural Integrity Field Warp Speeds (TNG scale) Normal Cruise: 8.8 Maximum Cruise : 9.5 Maximum Rated : 9.65 for 14 hours. Diplomatic Capability Unknown Expected Hull Life 120 years Refit Cycle Minor : 5 year Standard : 15 years Major : 30 years Dagger -Class Mark II Raider Type Heavy Fighter Unit Run Unknown Commissioned Unknown Dimensions Dimensions Length : 35 m Beam : 20 m Height : 13 m Decks : 1 Mass: 25,000 metric tons Crew 10 Officers Armament 3 x Type 1 Dual Pulse Cannon 1 x Ultra Light Phased Graviton Beam Emitter 1 x Type 2 Pulse Photon Torpedoes Launchers (+15 Torpedoes) Defense Systems High Capacity shield system, total capacity 450,000 TeraJoules Standard Duranium/Tritanium Double hull High level Structural Integrity Field Warp Speeds (TNG scale) Normal Cruise: 6.5 Maximum Cruise : 8.0 Maximum Rated : 9 for 8 hours. Diplomatic Capability Unknown Expected Hull Life 120 years Refit Cycle Minor : 5 year Standard : 15 years Major : 30 years

Mission Brief: Corizon believes that there may be answers to these Ghost like questions on the planet, (which I am about to rename because I forget the name I gave it) and is sending an AT down to investigate further. Back on Camelot, Sorehl and Company are setting out to find the missing Ambassadors. And things are going screw aboard ship with the power distribution network. 112607.txt 112607.pdf

Mission Brief: When we last left off, the XO was napping at the keyboard, so this week we actually do something. The Excalibur is nearing Jai's homeworld. 111906.txt 111906.pdf

Mission Brief: The Excalibur is some two days away from it's destination, Ja'i's homeworld. It has been, thus far a rather quiet journey. 111206.txt 111206.pdf

Mission Brief: The crew has recovered a sole survivor from the Freighter, a young boy named Ja'i. Corizon has asked the senior staff (and anyone else who wants to tag along) to report to conference room. 110506.txt 110506.pdf

The fleet of Federation, Romulan and Klingon vessels that circled Deep Space Nine harkened to days of Dominion War. No one was quite sure if that were a positive or a negative, but Quark knew one thing—it was good for business. Indeed, business had been booming, even if the wormhole was unusable. And frankly, he couldn’t care less. Latt was flowing like a fountain from the sequestered troops of all three of the major powers, and the dabo wheels were turning. Despite that though, he still had a gnawing feeling about the whole matter. He had a tingle in his lobes, but it wasn’t the same tingle he got when he sensed an opportunity to make profit, it was the sense that something was about to go terribly wrong. Still with Odo off to the Gamma Quadrant, he’d been free to scheme and plot to his hearts desire and had started putting away a healthy sum of latnium for a rainy day. ~ In the ready room of the USS Saladin Vice-Admiral Daniel Boston sighed to himself. As leader of the Allied Task Force he had many duties, and with those duties came paper work. Lot’s of paper work. Of course his staff did most of that paper work, but he still had to read over it. There were also meetings. Meetings about meetings, even. Today he’d met with no less than 20 people: the command of the Klingon Forces, Councilman Konath, the Romulan command Admiral t’Lae, and a slew of lower ranking officers, diplomats and bureaucrats. And at each of them, the same questions kept coming up, “When will we have use of the wormhole again?” and “What exactly is obstructing the wormhole terminus?” All very good questions, true, but there weren’t any answers that Boston could give them. Every probe they’d sent through to the other side had faced the same fate as the USS Charger¬—destruction. From what they’d pieced together, someone had constructed a ring of sorts around the terminus aperture of the wormhole and it was heavily armed. Who had done this? Now that was the million dollar question. First instinct of course was the Dominion. But reports from Camelot Station before what appeared to be a complete communications black out with them, seemed to indicate that a new force had risen in the Gamma Quadrant to challenge the Dominion and that they weren’t exactly in the best of shape at the moment. So, who was this new enemy? And what interest in the wormhole did they have? Boston sighed again. Every time he thought he had an answer, more questions arose than he actually answered. It was like one of those rubric cubes he’d played with as a child, only twice as impossible. Chimes at the door broke his train of thought. After a few moments of gathering himself he said softly, “Come.” The familiar face of his chief aide, Lt. Aurora Foster appeared through the doorway. “Sir,” her voice was soft and gentle. “Captain Picard and the Enterprise have arrived. You’re scheduled to meet with the Captain in less than an hour.” Boston nodded. “Of course…his ship or mine?” She smirked widely. “His of course.” “Oh…right…”

UES Challenger and USS Excalibur will meet as scheduled.

Corizon pressed his hands against the mirror. His reflection glinted in his eyes. It was said that when you looked into a mirror, you saw yourself, and yourself saw you. He had to wonder what the other side saw in him. The smell of the bar filtered through his nostrils. The sounds of drinking filled his ears, which were pressed back against his head. The air hung thick with smoke and sweat. Seedy establishments were a good way to find information with out attracting too much attention, even if the environment was less than desirable. He was looking for someone. He was on the prowl. But the man he hunted would not be here. Someone who knew him might though. A hand caught his shoulder. The pinned ears lifted and the hair on his neck rose. Killing someone hadn’t been on the agenda for the night, but that might have just changed. “If you wish to keep that hand,” Corizon said without turning, “I’d suggest you remove it from my shoulder.” “The doggy has a nasty growl. But look at his collar, his master must be missing him.” The man was clearly drunk. Corizon turned to see a group of humans sitting at table. The man who’d touched him was clearly their ringleader. Tall, maybe 6’3”, he was quite the specimen, even for a human. His breath smelled of liquor…cheap at that. “And a worse bite.” “That’s bold talk from an alien slave.” Corizon snarled his response. “Aww, look at the little doggy,” the drunk said to his friends who joined in laughter. “I wonder if we give him a treat if he’ll do tricks?” “Like ripping you’re throat out?” Corizon smiled, scarily serious. “I do that for free.” “You lay one hand on me slave, and you’re a dead dog. Why don’t you just tuck you’re tail between your legs and run back to your doghouse.” Idiots like this reminded Corizon why the humans were so hated by the aliens. Normally, he’d go about his business. But this moron was pushing the limits of Corizon’s patience. “Clearly I don’t have a tail.” “How sad,” the drunkard continued. “He doesn’t have a tail, aww…” “I am going to give you one chance to apologize, like a gentleman you idiot human, then…I am going to make you wish you’d never been born.” “Oooo Doggy’s pissed.” “I warned him…you all heard it.” “Go ahead…touch me. Do you know who I am?” Corizon moved quickly, sweeping the legs out from underneath the human bring him to his knees with a thud. With a quick motion, he slid a hand underneath the humans arm and behind his head, holding him in place. “Why don’t you enlighten me…” “You’re dead slave.” “Perhaps if I were a slave…” The others at the table, and the room itself were now paying attention. So much for not drawing attention to himself. The humans compatriots stood up slowly. “Move, and I will kill you as well.” The stopped in place. “What do you mean if…” Corizon reached to his neck and removed the “collar” the idiot had referenced earlier. It wasn’t a collar, but a chain holding an order. “I am no slave.” The mans eyes opened wide. “Death Dealer…” “Yes.” Corizon didn’t waste anymore time. In a smooth motion he buried his claws into the throat of the drunk. Grasping at the windpipe he removed the offending organ. Gasping for breath Corizon let the man drop to the ground. Flexing his claws and relaxing them, he dropped the humans Adam’s apple at his feet. He licked his claws clean of the blood that stained them and spat it on the ground. The blood of his prey tasted stale. Senseless killing didn’t have the same feel. No he liked the hunt. The thrill of the kill. That blood would have to wait. People were starting to stare. His eyes fluttered and he splashed his face with water. He looked into the mirror once more. The man he saw was dark and cold. A killer. A death dealer. And all that separated them was inches. A sound caught his ears…