Cptn Corizon

Mision Brief: The Ardent is on final approach to Camelot with their Vorta. The final touches are being placed on the Avalonian base. 051406.txt

The wind rustled through the open field, whispering through the grass. Silver hair fluttering in the breeze, the dark black kimono stood like a monolith upon the desert sands. Single bo staff in hand, he raised his arm, holding the staff in the palm of his hand parallel to his arm. The deep red facial 'claws' accented the serious look upon his face. The Avalonian sun hung in the afternoon, and resumed his current form, wheeling the Bo Staff between hands with great skill. The warrior spirit inside him churning. His thoughts lately had strayed, and his own inner strength had waned. He'd not kept to his routine as strictly as he liked. The subtle silence of the battlefield was deafening, Corizon looked around awaiting his doom and destiny. Out numbered and out gunned, his unit was pinned down. A white streak slammed into the ground nearest him. "Charge!" The Starfleet Officers charged forth with valor, rushing into the oncoming Jem’Hadar assault, Corizon leading the way, phaser roaring as loud as his battle howl. The lines collided in brilliant fervor. The staff turned more quickly in his hands, cutting through the idle grass. He’d delivered the Messiah to the Vorta…to the Dominion. Finding himself disarmed, Corizon defended himself against a rushing Jem’Hadar, catching him with the palm of his left hand, following through with a clawed jab into the midsection. Spinning on one leg, he caught another in the jaw. Around him, Starfleet was losing The young men and women under his command were finding out how woefully unprepared for this situation many of them were. Like a Samurai of old, Corizon dominated the battle field, switching to the sword hanging from his belt. Stained with the blood of the Jem’Hadar, the soldiers of the Gods, he kept fighting as his comrades faltered. His motions became more and more impassioned; after what they done to the Federation, to his people, to him; now he was saving them. If the gods had a sense of humor, it was never more evident than now. Fighting with every ounce of strength in his body, Corizon lashed out at the Jem’Hadar, but found himself knocked upon the ground a searing wound upon his chest. “Bastards.” When he awoke, the rest of his troops laid spread across the ground, slaughtered. He coughed, spitting blood. The battle was over, and the Jem’Hadar had moved on, leaving the dead to the dead. A cool sensation washed over him, he blinked. “Where…where am I?” “You were injured,” a warm, elderly voice said. “I found you among the dead.” He started to sit up, his head spinning. Blinking his eyes, he looked at the elderly female sitting over him. She was a native, that much was obvious. Why had she taken him in though? Looking into his pale yellow eyes, she smiled. “Much about you is strange,” she said referencing his more canine features. “But then many strange things have been happening as of late.” Indeed, the Dominion had picked this particular planet to place a covert listening base, but had not disturbed the primitive peoples. Corizon and his ATAG unit had been dispatched to counter the Dominion, but to minimize contact with the natives—something he’d obviously failed in. “The dead bodies,” she continued. “Some say it was the work of demons…” “They wouldn’t be entirely wrong,” he said. A slight smirk crossed her age worn face, “And who might you be,” she asked directly. “Demon or Angel.” “I’m a traveler,” he was thinking on his feet. “From a far away land.” She nodded. “And what has brought you here, young warrior?” Drawing back slightly, he wasn’t used to being called young. “We were searching for a group of evil marauders who’d been terrorizing our lands, we tracked them here.” “Well then,” she smiled. “It is lucky for us, for we have not been plagued by marauders in many suns.” Pausing in his form, he looked up at the sun, letting it wash upon his face. Many suns had passed since then, on thousands of worlds. And in thee distance, another sun passed on his long journey across the stars, this one found him struggling with his inner hatred for those who he was bound to aid. As the sun set behind the mountains, his thoughts carried him away once more. For twenty suns, and twenty moons Corizon stayed with the old woman, a woman he only knew as Ma’Ayiko. She nursed him back to health, and when he was well enough arranged for him to travel to the nearest village of R’ii. His orders had been simple, destroy the Dominion base, and return to an extraction point. If they didn’t make it, it was assumed they’d been neutralized. Corizon had slowly come to realize that this world was likely his new home. Some part of him liked that. It was a quite, peaceful world, away from the horrors of war. But another part yearned to return home. But in R’ii, he found a quite home tucked in a small grove of trees. He could practice his martial arts, meditate and contemplate the meaning of existence. At first the villagers kept their distance, but Ma’Ayiko convinced them that he could be trusted; eventually he found himself guarding the homes and valuables of the towns more wealthy residents. In his spare time, he also taught the children of the village his skills in the fine arts, teaching them the calligraphy and poetry of his far away land. He’d also returned to painting, something he hadn’t done in many years. As time went on, he didn’t even seem to miss his old life. Content and happy, the cares and thoughts of the war seemed distant and forgotten. By his recollection three months had passed since he’d been stranded on this planet; he’d forgotten the human name for it, but the locals called their mother world Nashira. The memories of Nashira flooded his mind as he stood watching the Avalonian sun set in the distance behind tall mountains. There were few outside of ATAG command that knew of his marooning on Nashira, and even fewer he would willingly tell. It had been a very private experience. And one he sometimes longed to return too. “They say there is man,” a villager said in the market one day, “he is a traveler from far away, from distant land of great wonders.” Corizon lifted an ear, listening to the conversation with great interest as he looked over the latest catch from the river. “He is in the city of Kiyako’na’wa,” the villager continued. “They say he has magical powers.” “And what does this man look like,” Corizon queried, turning to face the villagers. Smiling at Corizon, “I thought you’d be interested in this,” he said. “After all, you are a traveler yourself.” “In deed,” Corizon let his ears drop to either side. “I am told,” the villager began, “that this traveler is much stranger than you, Ah-Windu. He is short in stature, and large of ear.” Brain wheeling, “And does he have sharp pointy teeth and covet possessions.” Rather surprised, “Why yes, I am told that he demands payment before he will perform his magic, and eats the bugs of the ground.” “What sort of magic does he perform?” “Ohhh,” the villager said in awe. “I have heard he does magnificent things. He can make object appear at will. He can cure many diseases, and he is very powerful. He can make the fire of the heavens rain down upon those who anger him.” A low growl came out of Corizon. “Ferengi…” The villager looked at him, “You know this man?” Shaking his head, “I only know his people…and their…reputation.” “And I take it, that reputation is not…” “I must got to Kiyako’na’wa and see this man.” The villager looked at him curiously, wondering about the sudden interest. “It is a long journey down the river.” Corizon nodded. “I understand that Komarako travels their from time to time?” Nodding, “Yes, he does.” “Then I must see him,” Corizon said distantly. “Thank you for this information, buy yourself something pleasing.” Corizon handed him a small bag of currency. The man smiled widely and nodded his thanks. Sitting upon a high rock cliff, legs crossed and eyes closed in meditation, Corizon watched the last rays of sun set upon his face. It had been years since those days, since he’d walked among the villagers. And years since he’d fought the Dominion, but yet the memories were fresh in his mind. A part of him longed for the simple days of Nashira, another part longing to battle his demons, the demons he now served. Why the Gods had chosen this path for him, he did not know. But, if this were the path laid for him, he would have to walk it. Taking a deep breath, Corizon raised his head and opened his eyes. There would be no refuge for him, for the fires of war were stoked once more, and his path and destiny lay before him…

Corizon exited the Round Table, a slight scowl on his face. He glanced to Sprint. “Corris, tell the Vortas I need to speak to one of them…ASAP.” Sprint nodded quickly. “Yes sir.” A slight tip of the head to suggest a thanks, and Corizon was in the lift. “Dominion Wing.” --- “Why be seated in Commander,” Keevans cool voice echoed off the metallic walls. Corizon nodded slightly, taking his seat across from the Vorta. “I hadn’t expected to meet with you.” Tilting his head, Keevan assessed the claim on face, rather than reading further into it. “Ah yes,” he said curtly. “Taenix. Unfortunately she is currently being brought upto date by the rest of the Council” Lifting an ear slightly, “Well then,” Corizon nodded. “Let’s get this over with.” Another slight head tilt, “Why have you asked to speak with me Commander?” A long paused and a deep breath, “As I am sure you’re already aware,” Corizon hated that the Vorta kept information from them whenever they could. “There is a fleet of warships, likely allied with the Scorpiads heading straight for one of your major trading facilities.” Keevan suppressed a look of surprise, “I see you are becoming more talented in your efforts to intercept out communications.” Corizon waved his hand, “What you probably don’t know…” Turning his confidant expression to one of genuine interest, Keevan glanced at the Dameon Commander, an unspoken sign for him to continue speaking. “Is that we have detected another fleet of vessels headed for your primary ship building yard in this sector,” Corizon looked directly at him, hoping to gauge how much the Vorta really knew. Again, surprised, “That…that is most troubling.” Nodding, “I am here to find out what you plan on doing about them.” Keevan blinked several times, Corizon was most direct, something he found appealing about this Starfleet Commander, no games, no platitudes, just straight to the point. “We had not planned for this…” “You mean you haven’t the foggiest idea,” Corizon said gruffly. “The Vorta Council will…” “Be as clueless as you,” Corizon cut him off, he hadn’t come here to play games. “The Founders didn’t really make you all so great at thinking on your feet, did they?” Corizon waved his hand again, “I am here to offer the aid of the Alpha Quadrant allies in this matter...” “The Dominion will have to consider this offer…” “The hell you will,” Corizon interjected flatly. “Countering these two fleets will take some planning and some movements on our part, and I don’t want to throw this thing together at the last second.” Pursing his lips, “Very well…” “Good,” Corizon nodded. “We’ve prepared a tactical sketch for the battle plans…” --- Standing on the Command Center of Camelot, Corizon sighed a deeply as he watched the ships in orbit begin moving into tactical formations. “Commander Sprint,” Corizon looked to the communications officer. “Contact all Excalibur personnel,” his voice calm. “Let them know that all ships Personnel should report to the Excalibur by 2300.” “And the crew transferred to Ardent?” “They’re being transferred back to Excalibur.” “Understood , sir.” Corizon turned to walk to the lifts, he stopped and turned. “Oh and Commander?” “Yes?” “When is the Round Table to discuss the final strategy?” “2100.” “Thanks, and one last thing.” “Sure?” “Arrange a shuttle for me to Avalon in five minutes.” Sprint lifted his brows. “Yes, sir.”

Corizon tapped a claw anxiously as he watched the viewscreen. The Ardent was minutes away from Camelot station and the safe harbor of Avalon, yet he had a sinking feeling of dread welling in his stomach. Perhaps it was just the nauseous feeling he got every time he remembered he was delivering the messiah of the Founders, or that he was helping to return Weyoun to position of primacy. Every fiber of his being hated that man, what he stood for…and more importantly the ‘gods’ he served. Four Years, he waged war upon everything Corizon held dear. And now, Corizon was helping Weyoun restore the power and favor he’d lost, lost to men like Corizon. It was an irony that had not been lost on the Dameon in the least. He glanced over at the young operation officer…Craven, yes that was his name. “Mister Craven,” Corizon stopped tapping his claw on the armrest. Craven raised his head sharply, "Sir?" "Contact Camelot CNC," Corizon didn't turn in his chair. "Let them know will be entering the system shortly, let them know will be needing extra security at the Airlock." Craven's brow twitched a little. He had nearly forgotten the importance - and the dangerous nature - of the Ardent's "guests". Swallowing hard he managed to utter a "Aye sir," and proceeded to alert Camelot station. "This was your first real mission," Corizon let a small smirk cross his face, barely revealing the fangs. "Wasn't it, Ensign?" A puzzled look washed over the ensign's face for only a brief moment before he replied, "Yes Sir...that is if you don’t count our first encounter with the Scorpiads...Sir." "That wasn't exactly our first encounter," Corizon said matter-of-factly. "Nor do I think it will be our last..." Craven's face remained somewhat stoic, lacking the apprehension he had noted when his peers had addressed their superior's. For some reason, that primal hesitation was lost on Craven. To him, a CO was just another person - who happened to be in charge - not someone to be feared. Clearing his throat he added, "I have a feeling you're correct in that assumption Commander." Jack's eyebrows arched a little. He hadn't known the Commander to be so...complimenting. Mind you, he hadn't known the Dameon for that long at all. His grin became a beaming smile that he used all his force to supress, "Thank you sir, I'm glad you think so." Letting a small smile escape him, Corizon glanced to him. “Well,” he said. “You only got shot at three times on your first mission with me…I think that’s a record low.” “I hope that Avalon is finished,” Corizon noted, “but we may have to help them finish up…either that or something will go boom, never fails.” A gleam of anxiousness shined in the young ensign's eye. He secretly wished they wouldnt be needed on the planet. He had hoped that they would spend some time on Excalibur or even just Camelot itself. Time would tell.

STSF Community, The USS Excalibur command staff wishes to announce that it is looking for a player(s) to fill the following positions: AENG, AMO, ASEC and ASCI. Assistant positions report to their respective department heads, and can specialize in a wide variety of roles with in their departments. (All specialization pending Command approval.) If you think you might be interested in one these positions, please e-mail STSF Personnel at [email protected] and request an additional posting or first posting. These positions are open to all members of STSF who are graduates of the STSF Academy, and it will be processed once the personnel office reopens. : If you have any questions, please send an email to Commander Corizon at [email protected] and Admiral Day at [email protected]. Sincerely, The USS Excalibur Command Staff

A reminder, (that I have horrid timming), the Personnel office is currently closed, however, if your interested in joining, don't let that stop you! And if you have any questions, you can also contact me via AIM, or send a PM to Admiral Day or myself. Announcement: http://www.stsf.net/forums/index.php?showt...t=0entry62607

On Excal, we try and update our roster when there is a change, but other than that...meh... :D For those of you interested, see my post on the forums. :D

To: Personnel Office Starfleet Command, Earth From: Commander Ah-Windu Corizon U.S.S. Excalibur, NCC 2004-B Re: Awards, Promotions, Transfers -------------------------------------------------------------- This communique is to serve as notice that effective Stardate 0605.11, the following awards, promotions and transfers have been awarded and approved. Promotions: Lt. Jg. Murdok Helios to Full Lt Meritorious Achievement Award: Tandaris Admiran (We Do it For the Fudge) Laarell Teykier (Laarell Does Hawai'i) Transfers: Lt. Cougar: AENG to HELM

The earthen halls of the Scorpiad installation struck the two Al-Ucardians as somewhat primitive, but they couldn’t deny the sheer magnificence of the building they were inside. Coming to a large sliding door, they glanced between each other, exchanging glances before entering. Hours later, the two stood aboard the control center of the command ship of a fleet of Al-Ucardian vessels. Turning to each other, “They seemed awfully anxious to commit to this action,” Lariun said to his companion. “I don’t think they are telling us everything.” The other turned to him, “Of course they aren’t,” he said. “But you’re right, they do seem awfully…desperate.” Sitting on the Bridge of the IKS Balth, HoD Tagor glanced curiously at the sensor readings. “This is most…interesting,” his voice gruff, but he was truly interested. “Do we have a match on those ships?” The tactical officer nodded, “According to the records from the Morningstar’s mission to Surma, they are something called Al-Ucard.” Tagor stroked his beard for a few moments. “Send a coded signal to Governor K’Vorlag, inform him of our findings.” “And what would you have us do,” his first officer entered the conversation. “Do we know where they are headed?” “Not yet…” “Well then,” he said recalling his readings of the Al-Ucard, “the hunters just became the hunted. I want to shadow them, but don’t stay to close…our cloak may not be as effective against their sensors.” The first officer nodded. “As you wish…” A single Dominion attack ship cruised along at impulse, patrolling part of the newly setup ‘defensive’ perimeter declared by the Vorta Council hours before. The Jem Hadar first grunted on the command center. “The others have yet to arrive,” he said in reference to the three ships that were supposed to be patrolling with his. “First,” the tactical officer called. “I am detecting a number of large, unknown ships…” Had either been able to see the ships approaching, even their mighty hearts might have palpitated. The massive triangular ships dwarfed almost everything the Jem’Hadar would have ever seen. At 4000 meters, the blue-grey, triangular cruisers were something to behold. “Bring us about,” the first said. “Send a message to the Vorta Council. Weapons…stand by.” The Romulan scout ship, Osprey, hung just inside the Kamni Nebula, just far enough in as not to be detected, even if there cloak failed them, but far enough out for their sensors to work. The commander, Daise’Erei’Riov tr’Sullik glanced over to his tactical and first officer. “Begin the standard sweeps,” his voice calm and collected. He’d done this sort of ‘observation’ hundreds of times in the Alpha Quadrant, watching the Lloann’na or the Klivam fvadt. “Riov,” the tactical officer sounded an alarm. “We’re detecting multiple distortions…” “On screen…”

MISSION Brief: The Excal crew continues to "build stuff"; Ardent approaches what they hope to be their last stop off... 050706.txt

Mission Brief: The Ardent has narrowly escaped an attack, did they leave Corizon? And the colonization of Avalon conitnues. 043006.txt

Mission Brief: The Ardent crew has found themselves in a sticky situation. Back at Avalon colonization continues. 042306.txt

Ah-Windu held the empty flask in his hand, laying on his back staring at the streaming stars. He looked around for another bottle. It’s been a long time since he’d seriously hit the bottle like he was about to do. The windmills of his mind turned slowly as his claws found the bottle he was searching for in the dim light of the stars. The Vorta, his leg, the crew. Name a cause and you could likely find it. Corizon never considered himself to be an Alcoholic, and by all accounts—he wasn’t. It was a very private thing for him; already a private person. He twisted the top of the bottle off, slowly but surely before placing it to his lips and letting the cool liquid seer down his throat. “Ahh…” Of course, like every adolescent, he’d had his run in with overindulgence, but an addict? Not likely. It was just an escape for him. Sometimes you needed to runaway. Sure the holodeck could do that for you, but it was still real. He wanted to escape the reality of his situation, his world. The bottle went to his lips again. If only his crew could see him at this moment. So weak and vulnerable; they’d never believe it. The image of the strong, steadfast Commander faded with his sobriety. They trusted in him not to falter or fail, and it weighed on him heavily, like a great stone upon his back. Occasionally, you had to go to sleep and let your dreams come true, just lay back and let this crazy world pass by undisturbed. The bottle went to his lips again, he put it down. He closed his eyes; who cared where he went on this rugged ole’road?

"Damnit Jim, I'm a Doctor not a (insert colorful profession here)" ~ Bones Kirk: How about you Chekov, know anything about a neutrino surge? Chekov: (Hung-Over) Only the size of my head... "Ever since my first day on the job as a Starfleet Captian, I swore I'd never let myself get caught in one of these Godforsaken paradoxes. The past is the future, the future is the past, it all gives me a headache." -- Janeway (Future's End Pt. I)

The lights of an ancient city reflected off the deep, dark pools of water far below the surface of Tamerisn Vega. A slight awe overcame the two men seeing the scene for the first times in their long lives. Massive monolithic building arose from the floor of the cavern, like gigantic stalagmites. A grand bridge spanned the sea of dark water separating the outside world from the city nestled hundreds of miles below ground. Arching like the back of a great scorpiad, and carved in the likeness of a tail with stingers for lights, the bridged awaited them. “The Great City of the Mari,” one of the men said. Dressed in all black, pale skin and glowing eyes mirrored the vista before them. “Indeed Lariun,” the other said. “I never thought my eyes would see the glory of the gods before us, but we should hurry, they will be awaiting our report of our…mission.” ~ 2 Months Ago It was a placid day on Surma, President Hafin Jain stood over looking the city. In the skies above, a small fleet of Surmian warships circled in formations, doing exercises. The Captain of the lead Surmaian warship leaned back into his chair. His operations officer looked up quite concerned. “Captain! I am picking up three...no...four...no seven distortions.” The Captain leaned foreword. “On Screen!” Seven Scorpiad G'Jak-class battle cruisers phased into the space above Surma; the pride of the Scorpiad Empire, their work would be short and swift. “Their weapons appear to be charging…” “Hail them!” “No response.” “By the Gods…” The screaming black warships tore through the hapless Surmaian vessels, running roughshod through the primitive Orbital Defense systems hovering above the planet. Aboard the lead ship, General Kglagk clicked his claws, pleased with the success thus far. As the ships entered into orbit flying above the central government buildings, the population of Surma watched in horror as the screaming black ships of myth, the demons of the Dark Phage returned to reclaim what was theirs. General Kglagk glanced to his communications officer. “Let us reclaim this world in the name of the Empire, let them see the Divine Wrath of the Gods…” ~ Aboard the USS Ardent Commander Ah-Windu Corizon entered the medbay with a slight limp. He took a deep breath. The brace on his leg was ready to be removed, if for no other reason, they were on final approach to the next, and hopefully final location on this little scavenger hunt the gods of the Dominion had put them onto and he intended to be there when they found the prize. Weyoun was also in medical—alive. Apparently he’d just suffered a minor contusion…or something like that; Corizon had been shot at three different times in the period of 20 hours, and his ability to understand medical mumbo jumbo was seriously diminished. “Commander,” Weyoun’s sickeningly cheery voice greeted the Dameon to the smallish sickbay of the Ardent. “I was hoping you’d stop by.” “I am sure you were,” Corizon’s voice was gruff, but not rude. “It is agreeable to see you alive and well, it would be a shame if you died before we accomplished our mission…” “In deed, you seem to be lacking in the equipment for a Weyoun 10…” “I am not entirely sure that’s a bad thing,” Corizon quipped. Weyoun tilted his head slightly, not entirely sure that was a joke, “Humor…such a strange concept…” Corizon snorted. “I suppose,” he wanted to change the subject. “I am curious as to why the automated defenses of that outpost kicked on after you gained access…” “The system is set to protect it against non-Dominion targets,” Weyoun assured him. “But prior to my activation of the systems, it was set on passive defense mode.” “I see,” Corizon didn’t completely buy that, but it wasn’t worth pressing. “It’s just good that we were able get what we needed and…” Weyoun stopped him, “Commander, if you don’t mind skipping right through the small talk…” “Yes?” “Who were those vessels who attacked us, right before I was…injured?” “We ran into them a few months ago when the Morningstar was on it’s mission to Surma,” Corizon said sullenly, memories of that experience rushing back to him. “They call themselves the Al-Ucard…they’re…well…” Weyoun leaned foreword intently, he’d never heard of this race of people before now and his curiosity was piqued. “They’re hunters of the night…” “By the Founders…” Corizon looked over, now he was the interested one. “Something wrong?” Shaking off the sudden realization, “I believe we’ve just encountered an agent of the enemy.” “In league with the Scorpiads?” Nodding, “The Founder spoke of many things, and said much that I still do not fully understand or comprehend for such is the wisdom of the Founders… The Founder spoke of a race of great hunters, creatures of the night she called them. She said that they hunted down the Founders after…” “After?” Weyoun shirked, he hadn’t meant to expose so much of the story. “During the last war.” Corizon narrowed his glance for a few moments before withdrawing the look. “Well then, we should assume now that we are being watched, we’ll have to proceed with utmost alacrity…” “I hope only that wisdom of the Founders has not been wasted upon me…” Sighing for a moment, Corizon placed a firm hand on Weyoun’s shoulder. “Any god who would be displeased with your loyalty is no god at all…”

It all happened so quickly, in the blink of an eye, the flash of a light, Corizon’s greatest fear had been realized. He closed his eyes. Flash. Boom. Moments later he found himself on the other side of a sheer rock wall, laying upon the ground a large rock against his leg, bone protruding. He tried to move, but it was to no avail. He glanced over, looking for his crew. Nothing. Reaching for his combadge he pressed it, waiting for the familiar beep. Nothing. Their must be some sort of dampening field in place, he thought to himself. He sighed. Death it seemed was breathing down upon his neck. In all likelihood, the others were dead—and in three hours—the Ardent would be gone. Corizon had faced death before many times. He’d fought in many battles, he’d lead troops into the face of death—but this was somehow different. It wasn’t like the destruction of a ship. No, then you were vaporized into a thousand little pieces. Scattered through out the galactic space dust. But this…this could be agonizingly long and painful. He’d likely bleed to death—or starve—to death. It wasn’t the pain of the broken leg; a long time ago he’d developed the ability to channel his pain, to make it less severe. No it wasn’t the broken leg. He looked down at it. Just below the knee, his pant leg bloody and wet. He sat up for the first time, his head spinning. He’d have to be more careful about that in the future. From what he could tell, the blood wasn’t shooting out anymore...he gulped—starvation. There were few ways Corizon could imagine to die that would be more agonizing than being trapped with a large rock on your leg and no food without chance of rescue. He took a long breath, he’d need to recover his strength before he attempted to move that blasted rock. But he couldn’t go to sleep, he knew all to well how dangerous that could be in this situation.

Mission Brief: Nine days have passed since we last left our intrepid...crew...the Ardent is on final approach to their second location on Weyoun's version of the senic route; meanwhile colonization of the planet begins. 041606.txt

Mission Brief: The Construction of Avalon Base is getting ready to begin; meanwhile the Ardent is preparing to leave. 040906.txt

The USS Ardent cruised swiftly through Dominion held space. The stout Defiant-classed vessel was quite with nervous anticipation. They’d arrived at their first set of coordinates supplied by their “guide,” the Vorta Weyoun to find little more than a small relay station. Weyoun said that the Founders had not made this quest easy, and this was the first step of their journey. At the Relay Station, he’d input a series of codes and received another set of coordinates. The next stop was just over nine days away in a remote asteroid field The irony of the situation had not been lost on the Commander. The galaxy seemed to have a since of humor; not five years ago the man hoe sat not three decks below him had tried with every fiber of his cloned being to rid the galaxy of the Federation and the Alpha Quadrant in general. Now, the continued survival of that man’s one, true passion depended upon those he’d tried to destroy. A small smirk crossed the Dameon’s face. ~ “Come in,” Weyoun called as the door signaled a guest. A few moments later in strode the Dameon, a rather straight look upon his face. “You asked for me,” Corizon’s voice was matter-of-fact, though he disliked the idea of being called from the bridge to satisfy the Vorta. “Ah yes Commander Ah-Windu Corizon,” Weyoun said motioning to the chair opposite him. “I’ve so wanted to meet you.” Left-ear twitching sideways, “I was under the impression we’ve already met, several times.” A small smile appeared on Weyoun’s face. “Yes,” he acknowledged. “But have we really met yet?” Corizon took a seat, his annoyance finally showing through. “If you’re expecting me to entertain you…” “Of course not,” Weyoun shook his head in a motion he so often used when he was trying to be diplomatic. “I merely hoped to get to know the man who will be remembered as savior to the Dominion.” A slight twinge went over Corizon. “Don’t make it sound so…” “Honorable?” “No,” Corizon half-lied. “Valiant.” “Why Commander,” Weyoun said, “Do you not realize the impact this mission will have on the course of Dominion history?” “All to well,” Corizon said directly. Lifting a brow, Weyoun assessed that response for a few moments. “You’re Dameon aren’t you?” “I’ll be sure to add ‘observant’ to the Starfleet File on you.” “You race fought nobly against the Dominion, I was quite surprised at the resistance you offered against the Jem’Hadar.” A slight snarl proceeded Corizon’s next response. “Perhaps it would be best if we did not discuss…old wounds?” “As you wish,” Weyoun said. “I was merely making an observation; a compliment at that.” “You don’t get it, do you?” “Apparently not,” Weyoun said ambivalently. “To what should I be getting?” Tapping his claws against the metal table, Corizon surpassed an urge to flay the Vorta wide open on the spot. The wounds he’d mentioned we still fresh in his mind. “You tried to annihilate the Federation. You attacked my homeworld. You plunged our Quadrant into a horrific war, and for what? You own insecurities? And now…and now you expect us to be all...hunky-dory?” Silence filled the room as Weyoun stared at Corizon, and Corizon stared at him. “I thought you would understand, perhaps better than anyone else I’ve met from the Federation.” “Understand what? That your people are so insecure that you waged war for no other reason than you just didn’t trust us, based on the machinations of some globs of goo?” Weyoun took in a deep breath. “I’ll excuse your heresy for the moment…” “Good,” Corizon said sharply. “I wouldn’t want to kill you so early in the mission, and given the state of the Vorta Cloning facilities, I doubt they have another of you just lying around.” “Are you always this…confrontational?” “Only when the man who prosecuted one of the most vile wars in the last 100-years expects me to act as if that war never happened.” “Oh come now Commander,” Weyoun retorted. “It’s not as if your own species has a spotless record. As matter of fact, I do believe reading somewhere that during your long conflict with the Gorn that your people were accused of…feeding the bodies of prisoners to soldiers.” Corizon could feel the hair on his neck to begin to rise as his ears pinned back. “That was a long time ago…” “And if you can so easily dismiss that,” Weyoun continued. “Why is it so hard for you to forgive us?” “Because we recognize the past, and deeply regret it,” Corizon quipped. “You on the other hand…you would, given the chance, try and conquer Earth again.” He had a point. Weyoun still felt, despite their recent friendship, that the Federation posed a great threat to the Dominion; and once the Scorpiads had been dealt with, and the Hundred crisis resolved, the Federation would once again become the sole concern of the Dominion. “Perhaps your right,” he said lowly, “I am sure you have much more important things to do than engage in a philosophical debate with me, Commander. I apologize for the distraction.” Looking over him for a few moments, Corizon relaxed. “No apologies required, Weyoun. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll contact you once we arrive at the coordinates for the second location. If you need anything at all…” “I know where to find you.” Corizon nodded and stood to leave the room. Just as he was about to exit, “And Commander…” “Yes?” “You are a hero to the Dominion.” “My life long ambition…”

::blinks at post:: .... WB Grommit

Corizon leaned back into his chair. A small flask sat open a few inches away from his claws. What doesn’t kill you…drives you to drink. Corizon sighed deeply. As much as he wanted to, now was not the time for an alcoholic binge. As much as he wanted to oversee the construction of the base on Avalon, it appeared that duty would now fall to Captain Sorehl. Weyoun, or fate, depending on your interpretation, had other plans for Corizon. “Given the…tenuous situation within my government,” Weyoun said as the two walked down the long ovular corridors of the docking ring. “My situation nessicitates I ask your government for help.” Corizon looked at him for a few moments, “You need our help?” “Yes,” Weyoun finally said. “Have you had an opportunity to read my report from my meeting with the Founder?” Twitching his ears slightly, he didn’t like the sound of this. “Yes.” “Then you’re aware of the Scorpiad situation?” “Probably better than most,” Corizon noted. “We’ve made contact with them.” Weyoun quirked his head slightly, “Perhaps when we have more time, you can brief me further.” “Perhaps.” “Anyway Commander,” Weyoun stopped at a window. “I am in need of transport to the location of the Secret Vorta cloning base. And since I don’t have access to a Jem’Hadar ship at the moment, and in the interest of keeping my…mission secret, I think we can both agree that leaves me little choice but to ask the Federation for aide.” Grunting, Corizon looked at him for a few moments. He was correct, and very well thought out, annoying Vorta. “I am in Agreement.” “When can we leave,” Weyoun said directly. “Time is very sensitive.” Pursing his lips, “I’ll need to run this by Captain Sorehl, with the Admiral indisposed he’s the ranking Starfleet Officer. But it shouldn’t take long; I’ll contact you with more details then.” Corizon shook his head. He couldn’t believe he was actually helping Weyoun save the Dominion. Sorehl had approved the mission, of course, and Corizon was elbow deep into planning it. The Excalibur had completed repairs, but for some reason, Corizon was hesitant to take out the flagship of the Gamma Quadrant Fleet for an errand for the Dominion, let alone Weyoun. So, now he was looking for other vehicles for the mission. Glancing over the fleet docket, Corizon mentally narrowed down the choices until he came to the USS Ardent. The Defiant-class ship had taken some heavy damage during the Battle of Camelot, and had lost several key members of her personnel. A slight smile crossed his lips. >> FROM: Captain Sorehl, Acting Commanding Officer, 1st Gamma Fleet TO: Commander Ah-Windu Corizon CC: Lt. Commander EJ Pilot, Lt. Tandaris Admiran, Ensign Jack Craven, Ensign Segami SUBJECT: NEW ORDERS You are herby requested and ordered to take command of the USS Ardent, effectively immediately. You and the CC’d crew members are to fill the following roles aboard the Ardent, while you complete your mission (see attached orders.): Commander Corizon – Commanding Officer Lt. Commander EJ Pilot – Acting Executive Officer, Helm Lt. Tandaris Admiran – Chief of Engineering Ensign Jack Craven – Chief Operations Officer Ensign Segami – Chief Tactical and Security Officer. These orders are effective upon issuance. >> Carrying the small duffle bag with the possessions he would need for this little field trip, Corizon headed for the dock, where the Ardent was waiting for him. It seemed as if he barely got used to one ship, before they shipped him off on another. Ah, the life of the Starfleet Officer. He was reminded, oddly, of a conversation he’d once had with the late Lt. Commander Kennin, at the time he’d told a whining Kennin, “Welcome to Starfleet.” He supposed he should take his own snarky advice.

Mission Brief: The Crew of the Excalibur continues to be at Camelot on leave. 040206.txt

The turbolift doors opened onto yet another deck. Brian wasn't quite sure how many places he'd been in the last hour but they all seemed to have blurred together. All Brian knew was that Camelot's shuttlebay was on this deck, which was where Commander Corizon had summoned him for reasons unknown to him. His speculations ended as he entered the shuttlebay and saw the Commander several meters away; Brian immediately set an intercept course. "Commander, you sent for me?" “I’ll keep this short,” he glanced over at the Andorian. “We’re going to start colonizing the planet below. We need a low fly by of three possible colony sites for a central base facility. I’d like you to do the fly by. Report back to Captain Sorehl once you’ve finished.” He glanced over at Brian. “That will be all.” ~ Corizon glanced over at the Klingon Governor. “Good to see you’re still alive, Governor.” K’Vorlag grunted. “Barely.” “I am sure that your undying persistence not to…well die has been quite the source of annoyance for many over the years.” K’Vorlag looked over the Dameon a few times, trying to assess whether that was an insult or a compliment. In the end he decided it was an irrelevant comment. “Well what has brought you here?” A small smile creased the Dameon’s lips, revealing a small glimpse at his fangs. Not many people wanted to visit a rehabilitating Klingon. “I have a proposal for you.” “A proposal,” he grunted. “You don’t look like a diplomat.” Nodding his own agreement, “I think that’s why Sorehl sent me. Either that or he has plans to get roaring drunk with his Green Blooded Cousins.” “Somehow,” K’Vorlag let out a hardy, Klingon Laugh. “I seriously doubt that.” “Well…where was I,” Corizon scratched at an ear. “The proposal.” “Oh,” he said twitching his ears slightly. “That. Well, to make this simple, Governor. Captain Sorehl and myself are of the opinion that we need to make our foothold more permanent in the Avalon system. We feel that we…” “And what does Admiral Day think of this?” K’Vorlag intrupted. Ears dropping to either side. “The Admiral is currently…indisposed.” K’Vorlag seemed unconvinced with the misdirection. Corizon sighed. “Okay he’s unconscious in sickbay. He got knocked out when the Exclaibur got attacked by the Scorpiads…” “The whose-a-whats-it?!?” Corizon stroked his non-existent beard for a moment, twitching his ears. “I see you haven’t been updated on the latest status reports.” “Obviously,” K’Vorlag said nearly growling. He didn’t like being kept out of the loop. “I’ll have someone brief you more fully later,” Corizon said quickly. “But to make a very long story short, we have a pretty good idea who’s been doing all this attacking lately.” “Oh?” “Yes,” he said. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you now.” “Telling me what?” “Well you see,” Corizon found himself fumbling for words. He was not a diplomat! “Spit it out!” K’Vorlag’s voice became louder. Twitching his ears, and nearly growling, Corizon opened his mouth and closed it a few times before speaking. “Well, we sort of let Weyoun go speak to the female Founder on Earth.” “You did….” K’Vorlag’s voice nearly angry, nearly flat out shocked. “Let me get this right, Commander. You, and by you I mean the Federation, let that sniveling, dishonorable war criminal go back to the Alpha Quadrant. Do you know how many people died to make sure that little… jay'QI'yaH never set foot in the Quadrant again!?” Corizon leaned back against the wall of Camelot Station. “Quite simply,” he said with a nod. “Yes.” K’Vorlag looked to him, demanding further explanation. “But what we gained out of it,” Corizon finally said, “May very well save us all.” “You should hope so,” K’Vorlag finally said. “There are many in my Government, that if they knew what you just told me, would either kill you where you stand, or declare war on the Federation…or both.” “Then I am lucky you are no most Klingons,” Corizon said slyly. “Indeed.” “I’ll arrange for the full contents of the Weyoun report to be forwarded to you, Governor. He’s due back in a day or so, with more Federation reinforcements.” “Maj,” K’Vorlag nodded. “Now…about this proposal.” ~ On the Bridge of the USS Magellan, Captain Jay Effwin sighed as he watched his ship enter the Gamma Quadrant. He’d fought in the Dominion War. He’d lost a ship, two sons, a brother, and half the people he’d went to the Academy with to stop Weyoun. Now, five years later, he was delivering the very same man. “Captain,” his helmsman interrupted the train of thought. “We’ve entered the Gamma Quadrant. The Fleet is awaiting your orders.” Effwin nodded. For the time being, he was in command of the gaggle of ships headed to Camelot Station, where the USS Lexington under the command of Captain Perry Como would take command of the Britannia Fleet. “Signal the Fleet,” he finally said. “Set course for the Avalon system. Warp 6.” ~ In the VIP Quarters of the Magellan Weyoun glanced out the window as stars streamed by. Stars he could only vaguely see. “I thank you for your hospitality,” Weyoun said. “You’re welcome,” Effwin said, a slightly begrudging tone to his voice. “My transport to the Alpha Quadrant wasn’t nearly as…accommodating.” “We try and do the best we can…” “Even for someone who you so virulently hate,” Weyoun noted the apprehension in the Captain’s voice. “I wouldn’t go that far,” Effwin protested. “Dislike you greatly. Sure.” “I am not sure I will ever understand the human compassion for…forgiveness.” “I like to think it’s one of our greater strengths,” Effwin said, though it was all he could do not to toss the impetuous little Vorta out the nearest Airlock. “Funny,” Weyoun let out a slight laugh. “I was going to say weakness. I suppose we have differing views.” Grunting slightly, “Well I didn’t come down here to discuss any of that…” “Right, my apologies.” “We’re less than day from Camelot Station.” “Excellent, If you could arrange for me to speak with the Dominion Representive…” Effwin held up his hand. “I am afraid I can’t do that.” “What?” Weyoun said a bit more indignantly that he’d intended. “Well,” Effwin rung his hands. “There isn’t one.” “Excuse me?” Effwin started to repeat himself, then reminded himself of the Vorta’s excellent hearing. “We contacted Camelot a few hours ago, anticipating such a request.” “And?” “Captain Sorehl informed me that the Dominion have well…” “Captain I do not care about your need to soften the blow, simply tell me.” Fair enough. “The Dominion has been attacked by…someone. Hundreds of worlds have been left in ruin. And the Communications network has failed for the moment. The Dominion forces at Camelot retreated back to the Vorta Council planet. I understand that a Romulan-Federation Delagation has been dispatched to the Vorta to try and find out what the devil is going on but…” “No contact has been made,” Weyoun’s voice had gone from cocky and arrogant to quite surprised. “Then the Founder was correct.” Now it was Effwin that was uninformed. “Excuse me?” “Nothing,” Weyoun shook off his detachment. “Thank you for this briefing. I shall need to speak with Captain Sorehl…at once.” “Of course.”

Mission Briefing: The Excalibur has returned to Starbase Camelot following its encounter with the Alien Vessel and the attempted boarding. During the boarding, Lt. Commanders Kennin and Crispin were injured when they were attacked by the Scorpions. Kennin went MIA when the Scorpions retreated and the attackers phased out of Enginering, with Kennin still impaled. Crispin is in medical, where his condition is fluxuating. He's been taken to Starbase Camelot's Medical facility where a toxicologist, Dr. Ian Johnson will aide the Excalibur medical staff in trying to find an Anti-Venom. Meanwhile, repairs continue to the Excalibur. Excalibur crew has been given a temporary shoreleave, while they await new orders. 032606.txt

::pokes the thread:: I think it be dead.