Cptn Corizon

Mission Brief: Excalibur is responding to a distress call from a cargo freighter. It was under attack but we ran the pirates off. The Marines, Goldshirts, Medical and Engineer had all beamed over to lend a hand. 101809.txt

STARFLEET DATABASE PERSONELL FILES Name: Ah-Windu Corizon Age: 57 (Born 2328) Sex: Male POB: Dameon Prime Ht: 6'2" Wt: 195 lbs Eyes: Yellow Hair: White, Shoulder Length Race: Dameon Rank: Captain, Assignment Retired Call Sign: Checkers Father: Santish Corizon, Professor, Dameon Institute for the Arts Mother: Bari-Qu Corizon, Professor, Dameon Medical Academy Siblings: none Scars: none Marks: Left Ear Pierced Twice Career History: The only child of Santish and Bari-Qu. Ah-Windu grew up in the capital of Dameon Prime, Tykoo where his mother and father worked. His father was a prominent lit scholar, who died when Dameon Prime was attacked by the Dominion. As an adolescent he trained at the Kuu'Yii Monastery where he became a master of the Five Excellences: calligraphy, poetry, painting, traditional medicine, and martial arts. Later at the Dameon Academy for Arts and Science he studied Literature and Military History as well as Psychology and later acquired a Ph.D. in Psychology from same. After graduation from the Dameon Academy, he attended Starfleet Academy's war college earning a Master's in Strategic Military Planning and Tactical Applications. Distinguishing himself in the fields of Military Defense and Strategic planning, he was placed in Starfleet's Advanced Tactical Assessment Group (ATAG) as a junior analyst. (ATAG is a classified wing of the fleet designed to identify threats and develop action plans.) While working as an analyst, he began teaching at Starfleet Academy. Among the subjects he taught were military history, self-defense, tactical planning, psychology of combat, battlefield psychology and command ethics. During this time he was eventually promoted to the rank of Lt. Commander and promoted to Senior Analyst with ATAG. During the Borg Incursion of 2373, Corizon was given a temporary Field Command of the USS Sussex which was part of the task force created to intercept the Borg Cube in the Typhon Sector and fought a running battle with the Cube all the way to the Sol system. When the Dominion War began, he was placed in Starfleet's Central Battle Operations where helped coordinate all of Starfleet's actions during the war and also participated in several campaigns, while working as an occasional field operative for ATAG. At the end of the Dominion War, he returned to teaching part-time while working on research at Oxford University and remaining active as a Field Agent. With rising tensions between the Dominion and the Romulan Star Empire, Starfleet assigned him to the USS Excalibur, Starfleet's leading vessel in the Quadrant. Within a week of his posting to the USS Excalibur, the vessel was heavily damaged during a classified mission. Following the incident, the Excalibur was towed back to the Alpha Quadrant for possible mothballing. Corizon, along with some of the Excalibur crew were transferred to the USS Mornignstar. Corizon was temporarily placed in charge of Camelot Station, while Captain Sorehl was on a classified mission to the Alpha Quadrant. At the return of Excalibur, he returned to the position of XO, with Captain Sorehl returning to Command of Camelot Station. During the intervening time period, all contact with Starfleet Command and the Gamma Quadrant was lost when the Scorpiad Empire seized control of the wormhole. During this time, Corizon and others led an effort to keep the Scorpiads from the Alpha Quadrant, leading the Excalibur and the allied task force into battle a number of times. Following the Battle of the Wormhole, Corizon, along with most of the crew of the Excalibur were accidentally transported to an alternate universe. Some eight months later they re-appeared, heavily damaged. Corizon, along with the crew of the Excalibur were ordered back to Starfleet HQ on Earth for debriefing. He received a command aboard the starship USS Oberon, dispatched on a mapping mission. Several months following his assignment to the Oberon, he was recalled to take command of the Excalibur-C, in its final stages of construction. Assigned to command the Excalibur-C, Corizon led them on mission deep into the Gamma Quadrant. After nearly ten months, they returned with a wealth of knowledge of unknown species and a clearer picture of the early origins of the Dominon. During the Excalibur's refit following the completion of her mission, Corizon was assigned temporary command of the USS Union. Upon completion of the refit, Corizon was once again in command of the Excalibur. Following a series of missions, Corizon announced his retirement on stardate 092385.29. Psych Profile: Protectionist Exceedingly deep and powerful mind; near flawless visual and kinesthetic recall. Somewhat antisocial, security minded to the extreme, with elaborate psychological defense mechanisms against emotional entreaties. High stability and loyalty to mission indicated. Driven primarily by need for security and control. Powerful will; leadership potential high but strong tendency to control and manipulate subordinates. Tolerance for pain exceedingly high; .96 on Atherholt Trauma Function Test. CAUTION: Earlier psych tests show suspiciously near perfect normals along all axes. Subject may use strong will and extensive knowledge of psychiatric indicators to manipulate test results in his favor. Command Style: Corizon has a tendency to lead with a firm hand, delegating tasks and rarely asking for input from subordinates on major policy decisions. Service Record: -Graduated Starfleet Academy rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade (2357) -Assigned to Starfleet's Advanced Tactical Assessment Group, Junior Analyst (2357) -Promoted to the Rank of Full Lieutenant, Starfleet Command (2360) -Assigned as an Instructor to Starfleet Academy (2358) -Promoted to rank of Senior Analyst, ATAG (2362) -Promoted to the Rank of Lieutenant Commander (2368) -Promoted to the Rank of Commander (2372) -Given Temporary Command of the USS Sussex (2373) -Transferred to Starfleet Central Battle Operations (2373) -Transferred to ATAG, Senior Field Operative, Assigned as an Instructor to Starfleet Academy (2376) -Transferred to USS Excalibur, Executive Officer (2380) -Transferred to USS Morningstar, Executive Officer (2380) -Given Temporary Command of Camelot Station (2380) -Transferred to USS Excalibur, Executive Officer (2381) -Promoted to the Rank of Captain (2381) -Removed from Command of the USS Excalibur upon it's decommission (2383) -Assigned to USS Oberon, Commanding Officer (2383) -Transferred to USS Excalibur, Commanding Officer (2384) -Given Temporary Command of USS Union, Commanding Officer (2385) -Transferred to USS Excalibur, Commanding Officer (2385) -Retired (2385) Service Medals: Christopher Pike Medal of Valor, Karagite Order of Heroism, Cochrane Medal of Excellence, Distinguished Service Cluster( w/6 flourishes), Grankite Order of Tactics, Starfleet Star Cross, Silver Palm (w/3 Clusters), Starfleet Decoration of Gallantry, POW Ribbon, Purple Heart (twice), Order of Excellence, Crimson Shield (w/ 9 flourishes), Command Cluster (w/ 2 flourishes) , Battle of Wolf 359, Cardassia Prime Campaign, Dominion Campaign, Chintoka Campaign, Scorpiad Conflict Medal, Battle of Sector 001, Gamma Quadrant Academic Record -Graduated Dameon Academy Bachelors of Science in Military History and Psychology (2351) -Graduated Dameon Academy Doctorate in Psychology (2354) -Graduated Starfleet Academy Masters of Science in Strategic Military Planning and Tactical Applications (2357) -Appointed Assistant Professor of Psychology, Starfleet Academy (2358-79) -Appointed Adjutant Professor of Military Tactics and Theory, Starfleet Academy, (2364-79) -Appointed Visiting Professor of Psychology, Oxford University (2376-79) -Appointed Guest Lecturer of Military History, Berlin University (2371-76) Courses Taught: Starfleet Military History: Foundation of the Federation Starfleet Military History: Khitomer to Neranda III (SFA) Starfleet Military History: 2349-2373 (SFA) Introduction to Psychology (SFA, OU) Battlefield Psychology (SFA) Psychology of Combat (SFA) Introduction to Command Theory (SFA) Command Psychology (SFA) Applied Military Tactics (SFA) Advanced Self-Defense (SFA) Self-Defense: Hand to Hand (SFA) Marksmanship (SFA) Advanced Tactical Theory: Guerrilla Warfare (SFA) Advanced Tactical Theory: Espionage (SFA) Advanced Tactical Theory: Strategic Military Defense Planning (SFA) Advanced Tactical Theory: Propaganda (SFA) Special Topic: Psychology of War Propaganda (OU, SFA) Federation Military History: 2300-2350 (BU) Federation Military History: 2250-2280 (BU) Federation Military History: Klingon-Federation Cold War (BU) ----- Species Profile: (From Starfleet Diplomatic Corps) The Dameon are an advanced warrior-oriented canine-like race. The Dameons were first encountered by Starfleet in 2302 by the USS Enterprise-B. They joined the Federation in 2314. Appearance is mostly humanoid with a few exceptions: Dameon's have doglike ears located on top of their heads, fangs and claws. They have opposable thumbs, but only four toes. Their hands and feet are shaped much like Terrans, with the exception of the retractable claws on their hands, as well as trailing claw or spur along the area of the Achilles tendon on most upright humanoids. As a rule Dameon body hair is sparse, if not undetectable, in contrast to the hair on the head which is silver and kept long in both males and females. The have a heightened sense of smell and hearing, but have slightly decreased sight. They also have slightly longer life spans (140 years on Average) compared to Terrans. Dameon's can be quite aggressive and are known to growl when angry as a warning. They take great offense to comparisons between themselves and house pets. Also, they can move on all fours when necessary but prefer bipedal methods of transportation. Unlike Caitians, who disdain violence and look down upon members of their species who use their…claws, Dameons have been known to claw victims to death, or in more severe cases use their sharp fangs. Also unlike Caitians, Dameon's are primarily carnivores preferring raw meat to cooked meat or non-meat food. They are excellent hunters, but rarely prey upon higher life forms, although throughout their history there have been reported incidents of cannibalism, particularly during the Early Imperial Age. The Gorn have also charged that during the two wars they fought many Gorn Soldiers were used as food for the Dameon Soldiers, although those claims have never been verified. The actual language of the Dameon is quite difficult for non-Dameons to learn as it is a series of harsh 'barking' sounds and growls. The Dameon once controlled a fairly large empire rivaling many of the modern Alpha Quadrant powers. A prolonged war with the Gorn Empire from 2176 to 2190, and the ensuing collapse of the Dameon monarchy led to the considerable decline of the Dameon Empire. First Contact with the Earth occurred sometime between 2156-2158 however records of this contact are sketchy. A second war with the Gorn, 2218-2224, further weakened the Dameon Empire. The Second Gorn War reduced the number of colonies in what was now called the Dameon Republic from 18 before the war to 9. A disastrous plague and an economic collapse during the 2250's reduced that number to 5. During the expansion of the Gorn Empire in 2260's the once mighty Dameon forces were overwhelmed and the Dameon's were forced back to their home system. Following a brokered peace agreement with the Gorn in 2271, the Dameon entered into a rebuilding period completed in 2295, seven years before the Dameon entered the Federation. Note: Items in Red are classified

MISSION BRIEF: Excalibur is on her way to the next destination of our little drop off, a lovely alpine planet with a small religious group making a hermitage of the place. We're a day or so out. 092709.txt

MISSION BRIEF: We've arrived in orbit of Theta Begani, where we will be unloading a supply of live-stock, condensers, and assorted parts and such. 092009.txt

The soft sounds of a stringed instrument echoed across deck two of the Excalibur, emanating from what was sure to be an unlikely source for most people’s brains – the Captain’s Quarters. Having survived his first flight in years, and the crew having preformed more than admirably in transferring a load of supplies, he decided to get some much needed relaxation in as they headed towards their next destination. Corizon’s clawed fingers moved a bow delicately over the strings of a wooden and bone instrument his people called an ang-to’lo-ji. The delicate, deeply burled wood of the body and brilliant, carved bone of that made the neck of the instrument poured out soft, melodious tones. Engrossed in the Lament of Sa’gol, he barely noticed when one of his two yeomen, Augustus Quintius, entered to collect some stray bits of paper work and get them typed. Stopping to take in the music and the rare moment of tranquility on his commanding officers’ face, the silver-eyed twenty-something male smiled. For Corizon, he’d always found music to be more of an avenue of focus and harmony than anything else, and it was something he did not get to do nearly as often as he would have liked, but such was the life of a starship captain. Focus, clarity. They were words repeated over and over by clerics, adepts and followers of the su-no belief system that Corizon had trained and studied in for most of his formative years. He found it hard to believe where the path of life had taken him and how little clarity there was in where he was headed. Still, focus and clarity were or should be the goal of any individual seeking attainment of the highest order. Music was a path to such clarity. Finally bringing the selection to an end, he looked up to see the awed Qutinus. There was much of both his parents in the boy’s face and that caused a small smirk to cross the Dameon’s own features. “That was…,” Quintus said, startled and half-ashamed he’d lingered long enough to be noticed, “quite beautiful, sir. I didn’t know you were a musician.” Corizon smiled and put the ang-to’lo-ji aside. “Thanks, I haven’t played in a while. Too busy I suppose.” Quintus nodded and started to leave. “Augustus.” Stopping, starting to flush slightly, the half-Morian turned on heal. “Yes, sir?” “You forgot your PADD’s.” Flushing, despite himself, he quickly returned and gathered up the PADDs and headed out with a curt smile. “Oh, thanks…I would have wondered where I put them.” With a stray thought about calling the boy’s mother at some point, Corizon went to see what had been left for him. Picking it up, he scrolled through the PADD. Nothing like cargo lists to kill his focus. Sighing, he began looking over the lists of supplies they were to drop off on the next planet. Amid the hustle of getting out of port, not having a dedicated first officer, and the usual problems associated with coming off leave, he’d not really even looked at the list yet. It was mostly routine supplies. Water, food stores, spare parts, lithium-ion batteries, a few new computer parts for their communications systems, twelve palates of GHB, medical supplies, candles. He stopped. “Wait… twelve palates of GHB…” Mentally running through a list of possible supplies with an acronym like that, he came up empty. Firing up the desk console, he pulled up the actual shipping manifest that had the explanation of the cargo. Gamma-Hydroxybutyric acid or GHB is a naturally-occurring substance. It is also a neuroprotective therapeutic nutrient that is categorized as a hypnotic drug in many jurisdictions. Giving that a full moment to sink in, the Dameon’s face quickly paled. “Oh for the love of…” Reluctantly he looked up the information on the religious group they were dropping the supplies off for and felt the need to hit his head against a proverbial desk. “Just one of these days,” he said to himself and any deity that happened to be paying attention, “I’d like to know when my ship was going to be turned into a street-corner pharmacy for a bunch of hippies using some sort of mystic religion to cover getting baked…” Feeling a headache the size of a Galaxy-class starship coming on and deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to even find out how they managed to get the permits to have a Federation starship deliver a load of narcotics alongside basic supplies. Federation socialization told him he shouldn’t question other religions practices. Glancing towards the wooden structure that formed the shrine to the hereditary sword he owned, he supposed that was likely a good idea. What was the human phrase? Careful throwing stones in glass houses? “Well,” he said again to himself. “I suppose that’s simply their method of finding focus.” And with that, he made a quick edit to the manifest to list the palates as something innocuous before his crew decided to find focus for themselves.

Paris was rarely gloomy. Even on rainy days, the city was a sparkling diamond and a testament to the human will and instinct, as well as the Federation itself. Even in the darkest days of the Dominion War, Paris somehow shone through the haze of war as a care-free reminder of the power of peace, cooperation and mutual respect. Today, however, the city seemed to Nanietta Bacco to be positively dreary. Perhaps, she thought to herself, it wasn’t the city itself, or the somewhat overcast skies, but the mood in her office. Rising over the city, the Federation Headquarters had been built in the 2160’s in the days after the founding of the Federation on the site of the former Palace de Concorde. The building stood now as more of symbol of the spirit that had embodied the Federation than its actual nucleus as the actual organs of the state and the bureaucracy that ran the burgeoning intergalactic government sprawled across Earth. Still, the Office of the President of the United Federation of Planets remained in the fifteen story building and occupied the greater top half of the building. Her own lavishly appointed office took up nearly the entire top floor. As usual, today it was filled with an amalgam of dignitaries, politicians and advisors who all wanted her ear on some subject or the other. Today the topics were mostly focused on a subject she’d prefer to avoid all together – the Gamma Quadrant and Federation policy therein. Sighing, and muttering mentally about thorns in her side, Bacco turned from the windows and made her way back to the deep, burgundy leather chair that sat behind a great oak desk that had once occupied the office of the leader of one Earth’s most prolific governments. “I appreciate the position of your government, Ambassador Xzy’than’iolo’tona’zobram,” she said doing her best to not entirely mangle the pronunciation of the last name of the tall, dark Zagorian diplomat sitting in one of the eight chairs that were opposite her desk. “However, at this time, I am afraid the political reality is that our hands are tied.” She hated giving that response. As a planetary governor who’d dealt with a hostile power, she’d absolutely abhorred the phrase ‘constrained by political realities.’ Now as President of the Federation she found herself not only saying it more often than she liked, but knowing it was true. As the Zagorian started to say something else, the Vulcan Ambassador, interjected in his calm, calculated and measured voice. “I believe, Ambassador, that what the President is telling you is that while she agrees with your view that we ought to be doing more to help these democratic movements in the Gamma Quadrant that our position is delicate…” “Your equivocation,” an Arzaban dressed in rich fabrics said quickly, “is most amusing. The truth is that while we’d love to be helping these people, we’d rather not anger the Scorpiads or the Dominion off by doing so.” The open tension of the room gnawed at her. “While I thank both of you,” Bacco said with a stern demeanor, “I think I was pretty clear in what I said. The Federation Council, General Assembly and the Office of the President have made our policy intentions clear. They are internal affairs and the Federation does not become involved militarily in such conflicts. We will provide humanitarian aid to anyone who asks for it.” “With respect Madam President,” the voice of a slender, tall deeply tanned Elasian said, “you don’t need to give us a policy speech. I think what we are concerned about, is if we’re sacrificing our ideals in the name of political expediency. “ The frown on her face deepened. The white haired human female hardened her features. Now in her fifth year of office, after standing for election twice, first in 2380 and again in the most recent 2384 elections, Bacco had faced this question during both campaigns in various forms. Then, as she was about to, she’d explained the situation in the most succinct terms she could find. “Regent, I am not entirely sure what anyone would prefer us to do. If wishes were horses, we’d go in and protect the rights of the Al-Ucard, Eratians and everyone in the damned quadrant who no longer, but we neither have the manpower or authority to do so. The Federation is has a policy of non-interference in the domestic affairs of foreign governments. I will not set a precedent for willful violation of the Prime Directive so some people can sleep better at night with a clearer conscience.” The Vulcan Ambassador, Savak lifted his chin delicately. “Perhaps, Madam President, the question then is not how we handle domestic affairs of a foreign government, but instead what we define as a domestic affair.” Leave it to the Vulcans. Bacco sighed and softened slightly. She opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly cut off by the Arzaban male sitting to her right. “I think it is fairly clear,” he said plainly. “Civil war and rebellion are two different things, but this administration doesn’t seem to realize that.” If there had been softness on Bacco’s face it faded quickly. The Arzaban, who were known as a species for their contrarian, near-fascist views, had struck on a nerve. “Ambassador,” she said pointedly. “While you’re free to speak about me in absentia when I am actually absent, I would appreciate if you’d refrain from doing so when you’re sitting across the desk from me, as a guest in my office. I would also appreciate if you’d remember that it was the council, not me, who decided that this was domestic, and that you, Ambassador, agreed in deliberations with that definition.” Taken aback by the intensity in Bacco’s rebuke, the Arzaban simply blinked and managed an acknowledgement. Not content to simply win that point, Bacco resumed. “Listen,” she said standing and motioning to the group in the room. “I appreciate all of you and your view points. The very government we work for was founded on the principal that through diversity of ideas, a better solution would come to us. “The truth is, there isn’t a good one to this, not that I can see. We can’t just tell the Dominion and the Scorpiads to play nice and expect them to listen, nor can we force them to do so either. What we can do is pressure them diplomatically and help the people who are suffering. However, the position of the Federation is clear – we cannot intervene militarily. We can offer arbitration, but for that to happen, the Scorpiads would have to come to the table – something they’ve not shown an interest in anyway.” It was during moments like this that most of the people in the room realized why she’d been elected; her poise, candor and natural rhetorical skills made her a truly formative figure in any debate. “Koshic,” she said motioning to the Elasian. “You asked me if we were sacrificing our morals for political expedience. I’ve said before we must uphold those values that are at the very core of the Federation. We must keep in mind our commitment to the neutrality of the Federation in such affairs. By that same token, I agree that our moral commitment to the rights of sentient life obligates us to not simply stand by and watch. “I won’t lie, you people in this room know as well as I do that even if we wanted to, we don’t have the capacity to fight and win a war against the Dominion or the Scorpiads – even in their weakened states; and that goes into the calculation, sure, but you also know damned well we don’t want to just stand by and let them slaughter people, or put down rebellions with force. The Vorta Council has promised us to be ‘restrained’ in their response to protests to their authority, and so far they’ve kept that promise. Sure, they’re not going to let colonies just up and leave the Dominion, but is it better than the alternatives? You bet. “ Joy Seven thought another perspective necessary. "You have all spoken of ideals and the wishes of well meaning voters. It seems odd. I am usually the idealist. Still, I think I must speak also of power. "Two points. The shift in the Gamma Quad situation comes from the lack of a single power or alliance that thinks it can expand by force. We have a break in the recent constant wars of aggression. Whatever else we do, we must maintain a balance of power situation where the threat of defensive alliance contains expansionist desires. Such a situation is beginning to happen in Gamma Quad. We might do well to maintain it. I have no magic wand to wave that will guarantee everyone here big election wins in a year or two's time. However, we shouldn't forget that the militaristic expansionist powers lost. If we are having to rethink, if our past doctrines and values seem uncertain in their application, this is in part because we are thinking about whether and how to restore freedom to cultures that have been conquered and subdued in the past. We couldn't have considered this only a few years ago. Let's not totally forget that we are in some contexts at least winning. "But how to advocate diversity? Is it possible to convince the Dominion or other conquest based civilizations that they can become stronger by letting their various components develop and grow? Can we, through technology sharing, investment or trade, encourage the militaristic empires to become what they have never been? I believe it possible. I believe I will see it in my own life time. Then again, this body comes with a very long warrantee. I am not thinking in terms of the next election. This involves basic value shifts. Such things occur over periods of generations. We cannot and must not think in the short term." Having been quiet for the entirety of the meeting, a middle-aged Andorian chan leaned against the chair in which he sat. His long white hair flowed from his scalp gracefully, and he was wrapped in a deep red tunic and matching pants. Thael ch’Kaen had long served the Federation in one post or the other and now occupied the position of chief security advisor to the President, having replaced Jas Abrik. During such meetings as the one now raging within the chambers, he rarely spoke, and when he did, everyone, even the President paid attention. “If you will permit me to interject?” he said in his deep, scratchy voice worn by time and by a healthy ration of konnal weed that he smoked in an elaborately carved bone pipe. Bacca leaned back against her desk and nodded, as did the others in the room. “We have all heard the speeches on the floor of the council, read the editorials in the newsfeeds, and seen the demonstrations in the streets. I tell you now what we cannot afford politically or militarily to change course in the Gamma Quadrant. The voices now would be silent in comparison the riots we would see. I do not pretend to be clairvoyant, but what I do know is that we benefit from the Dominion and the Scorpiads being weaker. Perhaps what we need to think about is the benefits of the status quo.“ The Zargonian as well as the Arzaban had opened their mouths (or in the case of Xzy’than’iolo’tona’zobram worked its mandibles) to respond when a chime interrupted them. The soft tones of Hirishi Santon, the President’s personal secretary, followed shortly after. “Madame President, I know you’re in a meeting, but the delegation from Atheries IX is on their way up.” Bacco pushed off her desk and looked around briefly before responding. “Of course Hirishi, thank you very much.” By then the diplomats and advisors in the room had already begun shuffling out, knowing that their audience with perhaps the single most powerful person in the quadrant had ended, all with the exception of the Vulcan Ambassador, anyway. “Well, thank you all. I look forward to seeing you all again and resuming our dialog.” As the room cleared Ambassador Savak inclined his head to one side as they waited for Atherian delegation to arrive. “You have much on your mind do you not, Madam President?” “Yes,” she admitted. “To be honest I never really planned on having the Federation caught up in something like this when I ran for election the first time…” “If I may inquire,” the Vulcan said in an even, practiced tone that lacked any feeling of intrusion. “What then was your logic in running for re-election, knowing full well the challenges you would be facing, especially in light of the conflict with the Scorpiads during your term.” Turning to the window and extending her arms so that her finger tips touched her desk and leaning forward slightly, she exhaled. It was a thought that had crossed her mind far more often than she would have liked and the answer occasionally eluded her, especially on days like this one. “When I was governor on Cestus III,” she said finally, “I helped forge an agreement with the Gorn that has ushered in over a decade of peace after years of on and off hostility. Call it arrogant presumption, but I honestly thought when I was running for reelection that we could work something out with the Scorpiads and the Dominion or at least one of them that would bring some normality to the inter-quadrant relations and make that damned place stop being the lair of the boogyman.” Savak nodded as he appraised the silver-haired human female’s body language and inflection. “You now doubt that is possible?” Still staring aimlessly into the gloom of Paris as clouds moved overhead and the sun began slipping towards the horizon, she exhaled. “Sometimes I wonder Ambassador. I know what we ought to be doing, and that’s bringing the Dominion, the Hundred and the various uprising groups to the table while we also work to bring the Eratian, Al-Ucard and Scorpiads to the table to hammer out some sort of agreement, even if no one leaves entirely satisfied, but for the life of me, I can’t think of how to do it. How do you force people to negotiate when you don’t have any real leverage?” Perplexed by the question, Savak simply shook his head as the chimes rang and the Atherian delegation was ushered into the room.

Editors note: This log is set during Excalibur’s last mission. The Lord shall scatter you among the nations, and ye shall be left few in number among the heathen. (Deut. 4:27) Lexin looked towards the other three Vorta with a tilted head. Taenix, Keevan and Weyoun returned similar expressions. Between the four of them they had lived the lives of forty men, and still they found themselves surprised, it was an uncomfortable feeling for all of them. “So what we have feared has come to pass,” Taenix finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “The Founders have abandoned us.” Weyoun cocked his head to one side at the remark. Surprise would be overstating his feeling. After meeting with the female Founder, he’d left discouraged and on some level questioned his belief in the Founders for the first time. He’d been hopeful that Odo would heed the call of the Vorta and return to lead them. Disappointed, he decided, would fit him better, not that it made him feel any less uncomfortable at the news from the younger Lexin. Nearly two weeks had passed since Lexin had returned to the Dominion after his journey aboard the Excalibur and his brief, heart wrenching reunion with the Founders via the device. He knew that what he had to tell Taenix and Keevan would be difficult for them. His own questions of faith still gnawed at him, and he knew they’d feel the same way – they were programmed too. Weyoun’s presence had been unexpected, but he had, he knew, been brought into the small circle of Vorta who knew the truth about the disposition of the Founders. “We cannot tell the Council,” Lexin said, knowing what must be going through the other Vortas’ thoughts. “We cannot tell anyone, just yet.” Still reeling from the realization that his gods had left them to fend for themselves, Keevan exhaled deeply, trying his best to conceal his emotions. “I must agree. Our position is precarious, at best… if our rule is further questioned.” “It is rare for me to agree with Keevan,” Weyoun added. “But I must in this case. The other Vorta are not yet ready to learn of this new challenge the Founders haven given us.” “This new challenge,” Taenix said abruptly. “They have left us to our own devices.” The younger Vorta looked to the normally placid Taenix. It was yet another reminder of her elder lineage that she more easily espoused emotions. The younger models, as it were, had less of an inclination to emote. “They created us,” Keevan challenged. “They would not just leave us.” Weyoun held a hand up. “I think this illustrates to us what would happen if we reveal this to the Council.” Lexin nodded. “I must agree.” The female Vorta bit at her lip for a moment, then added her agreement. “Then we must keep this to ourselves. The Council still does not know of your assignment, Lexin, we must keep it this way?” “And Odo’s commandment to take the device to the Hundred so that he can commune with them?” She shook her head. “I will have to ruminate on this.” Lexin nodded. “We cannot afford to lose more of our people to this conflict,” he said gently. “With the cloning facilties being nearly destroyed during the war…” They all nodded. “To say nothing of how we must now proceed,” Weyoun added. “We cannot simply be sustained as a race of clones and my generation is nearing the end of our cycle.” Taenix again exhaled and looked towards the other members of the room. “So the Founders had not yet prepared the next generation of clones?” They shook their heads. “Until the revelation that you existed, we had not been told of the cycling.” Frowning she nodded. “We must compile a report.” Keevan looked over at her. “And what will we tell them as our motive?” Plainly, and without missing a beat, she spoke. “The Founders have directed us to begin research into the viability of the current line of clones. With all the damage that has been done to our cloning facilities, it’s a prudent and wise suggestion, don’t you think?”

Battle-scarred and missing several large pieces of hull, the Excelsior-class Union limped at warp five towards Camelot Station. The remains of the Union ready-room had served as a make-shift quarters for the lithe, silver-haired, Dameon captain who was sprawled on the small couch in the corner of the room. A single, standard issue blue-blanket covered him loosely, as his yeoman had been afraid to rouse him and did her best to cover the parts of him she thought would be cold. The droning beep of his communications panel finally woke him after nearly a minute of going off. Batting his yellow-eyes open, he groaned, wondering how long he’d been asleep as he glanced towards the chronometer. Sighing, he made his way to the desk and keyed in his access code to bring up the communication feed instead of the twirling Starfleet chevron. “Catch you at a bad time, Corizon?” The Dameon shook his head and made an attempt at rearranging his hair. “Of course not, Admiral.” Vice-Admiral Misha Abronvonvich smiled, causing the deep crags in his face to shift in various directions, like a great earthquake shifting hole canyons. “Good, good,” he said. “I’ve read your report.” Wiping sleep from his eyes, Corizon nodded. “And?” “I can’t say that ‘Fleet will be happy about losing the biggest prize in the last decade, or that you’ve managed to trash another ship…” Bemused, even in his still-partially asleep state, Corizon grinned fangily. “Somehow I think the first will annoy them more than the later, even the Engineering corps… well maybe.” Abronvonvich returned the bemused grin and nodded. “Possibly, I know several of the Excelsior-class chiefs stationed in this quadrant will be happy to have the spare parts from the Union.” Corizon nodded. He figured that the Union, despite her proud service history that had included the Cardassian Conflict, the Tzenkethi War, the Dominion War and the Scorpiad Conflict was now headed towards a life in the scrap yard, stripped of all her important parts and decommissioned. Though, considering the former, he knew it wouldn’t be long before another ship bore the name Union. “As you’ve no doubt ascertained by now, this means you will be getting Excalibur back sooner than later.” Again Corizon nodded. “Though that might off-set any good will with the engineering folks that getting them a bunch of spare parts bought me.” “Yeah,” Abronvonvich nodded. “At any rate, I’ve forwarded everything you sent me to Starfleet Command. Like I said, I figure they’ll be mildly annoyed about the total loss of the Scorpiad ship, but it’s not like you had a choice. At least you got out of there with your crew alive, and you did manage to get a ton of data off that thing before they showed up to reclaim it. And hell, you got the specs on that damned star-killer weapon of theirs.” The Daemon nodded for the third time and smiled. Getting the star-killer had made losing the ship worth it. With the data they’d collected, Fleet could begin to understand better how it worked and perhaps develop some sort of counter-measure. It also meant that he wouldn’t be directly involved in the clandestine scheme certain elements of the intelligence community had proposed to coerce the Scorpiads into stopping using the weapon. “I wish we could do more with this knowledge to help the Al-Ucards and the Eratians, but you know how the politicians feel about that whole subject.” “Yes,” Corizon said, letting a bit of his personal feelings tint his voice. “They’re being… diplomatic about it, I’ll say that for it.” Abronvonvich nodded. “That’s the nice of way of putting it, which from you, surprises me.” Shaking his head the Dameon sighed. “I’ve given up trying to reason with them, Admiral.” “Likely for the best.” The both exchanged sighed before either spoke again. “So, what’s the plan for when Union arrives back to port.” Happy for the change of subject, Abronvonvich’s face brightened. “You and your crew will be given sometime to get stuff off the ship and moved back onto the Excalibur. She’s not entirely ready yet, but enough for you guys to move back aboard. I’ve authorized a week of leave for everyone to get settled in while the dock-monkeys make final repairs. “ “And after?” Abronvonvich shook his head. “Always in a hurry, Checkers. We’ll talk about Excalibur’s pending assignment later, once you’ve gotten back and had some time to rest.” Deciding not to fight it, Corizon accepted the fate. “Understood. And what about my chief engineer?” “Ah, right. How’s he doing anyway?” “He’s stable. Medical says that he’s still not entirely ready to be woken up, but that he and the symbiot are at no real risk of dying.” “That’s good news,” Abronvonvich said. “I’ve arranged for him to be transported first thing to the Camelot medical facility. Your doctors can continue to supervise him; Dr. Ha’Jolka said she’d be happy to assist them in any way possible. The Symbiosis Commission is sending a team of experts to assist as well, they’re due in a few hours before you, actually.” “Good, I’ll inform Dr. Wydown.” “Well then, I won’t keep you any longer, Captain. You look like hell.” “Thanks,” Corizon said. “See you in a few days, Admiral.”

The last shards of light from the primary star in the Avalon system began dying out as night enveloped the side of the planet that Camelot Station and the colony that it orbited in synch with. Looking up from his desk on the seventh deck of the “A-ring,” Misha Abronvonvich sighed deeply, was it night already? From the corner of his eye he noticed the bright ball of gas that appeared to be a moon, but was in fact the second half of the Trojan pair that made up the center of the system, Tintagel. It had been a busy day by any standards, even those on a frontier station orbiting in the middle of two war zones far from Federation space, and Abronvonvich had spent the better part of the day putting out brush fire after brush fire in between working on the latest fleet deployments that would be made for the nearly one-hundred starships at his command. If he’d been that busy, he mused, he wondered how busy the station commander had been. Abronvonvich was intimately familiar with how busy that sort of a job could be, after all he’d spent roughly twenty-years doing it and it wasn’t something he particularly wanted to take back up, either. Granted he didn’t want this job, or the Admiral pips he wore on his collar either. Sighing he glanced to the ship deployments again; what he really wanted was to be the Captain of one of them, out on the edge of forever exploring the hereto unknowns. Recalling his first assignment on such a ship, Abronvonvich wondered exactly how he’d ended up being a crusty paper pusher behind a plush desk. He’d once been a wet behind the ears ensign, still smelling of the academy when he’d got his first posting on a deep space ship, the USS Norfolk. That seemed ages ago. Once dark-brown hair had turned snowy white, his deep blue eyes were set into his face with wrinkles surrounding them like folds in a messy bed. He’d been through three wars, earned just about every medal an officer could earn (all of them tucked in a forgotten drawer in his quarters), seen aliens of every shape and size, but somehow the allure of space stilled beckoned at him like the siren’s call. Smiling for what seemed the first time all day, he remembered that his sense of duty and desire to be on the edges of space were what convinced him to take his current posting. The chime at his door interrupted his train of thought. Returning to his work, he glanced to the door before keying in another series of commands. “Come,” he said. He’d fully expected his yeoman, Lt. Commander Deigo Sands, to come striding in telling him to go home, instead he was met by the strident tones of a Romulan voice. “Admiral,” the shrill voice said. “This is entirely, entirely unacceptable.” Taking in the figure of the Commander of the Romulan Garrison to Camelot Station, Khre’Riov Jaelin t'Leaii, Abronvonvich closed the screen he was working on and leaned back into the stiff, thinly padded, black chair. “Khre’Riov,” he said, hoping he pronounced that correctly. “There’s always something unacceptable in this quadrant, but what in particular has your green-blood boiling this time.” If the remark phased Laeii, it wasn’t apparent. The woman carried herself with the air of someone who’d clawed her way to her position without any help (likely because she had) and stood with the firmness of three-thousand-year-old Sakuna tree from Jabon VI. Her dark eyes danced with flames and she narrowed their fiery glare on her quandary. “I can’t believe you’re even attempting to feign ignorance,” she snapped. “The Federation is impossible. Why we continue to even support this mission…” Holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender Abronvonvich chose his words carefully. “Khre’Riov, perhaps I could possibly explain whatever it is that we’ve done to offend you if you’d get to the part where you tell me what we’ve done.” Muting her glare and opting for a scowl, the Romulan produced what her people called an Isolinear Storage Device (or PADD in Federation lingo) and placed nearly on the humans lap. “That,” she exclaimed. Half-afraid to even look at the contents for feat that it could be any number of myriad projects that the Federation was running that the Romulans could take exception to, particularly one involving a certain canine and his crew, he let out a mental sigh of relief when he read over the contents of the device and didn’t see any mention of the Union or her mission. Trying hard to neither show his relief or be indignant, he replied after a few moments of reading. “This is what has you so upset?” “Yes.” “We did inform your government.” “Yes… but you also told our government that it would be some time before you acted.” Abronvonvich shrugged. “What can I say, Admiral? Our time table moved up.” Huffing the Romulan commander began pacing. “That’s not acceptable, Admiral.” “Well,” he said. “Your Ambassadors here and on Earth are free to lodge complaints but don’t look at me. I am only doing what I am told, and even then this isn’t entirely in my purview…” She stopped and turned to face him, but instead of the furious glares she’d been shooting in volleys, it was a lifted brow that met his eyes. “Starfleet builds a new station in the Gamma Quadrant and the Quadrant Sector Commander is only partially…” H e held up a hand. “Starbase Lyonesse is under my overall command, but I wasn’t the one who accelerated its construction. Starfleet Command did that.” “But why?” When he didn’t respond as quickly as he would have liked, the Romulan pressed harder. “We had given our agreement to the proposal, but only under the condition of the timeframe originally quoted…” “I appreciate that, I do, but you’re barking up the wrong tree.” She lifted her brow. The expression had been lost somewhere in translation. Seeing that, Abronvonvich added, “Like I said before, I appreciate your sentiment and can understand it, but I think your Ambassadors can better address your concerns. “ Clearly she still hadn’t gotten the response she wanted. “Admiral,” she said. “I am sure you know why they’re moving the time-table up on the station construction at the terminus of the wormhole.” “Yes,” he admitted, “but so do you.” Exasperated Leaii exhaled deeply. “I can see that coming here was a waste of yours and my own time, Admiral. I will forward my concerns to you government through the proper channels.” Resisting the urge to smile widely, the Russian-born Admiral nodded. “Sorry I can’t be of more help, but you know how it is. We’re just doing our jobs.” Leaii returned the nod, and forced a small smile onto her olive-green face. “Yes. Admiral, I am aware. In the future, I look forward to perhaps more notice when the Federation decides to change its timetable.” Fighting the smirk forming at either side of his face he nodded again. “I will make a concerted effort to do that Khre’Riov.” Only mildly mollified she bowed her head slightly. “Hann’yyo. If you will excuse me, I have pressing matters to attend too.” “Of course.” As the door closed behind the Leaii, Abronvonvich smiled widely. He’d actually expected her to swing by at some point when she got the news about Lyonesse, that it had taken her nearly forty hours since the transmission over coded frequency of the orders confirming the expedition of the construction to arrive at his office pleased him. “At least they don’t have our codes cracked as well as they’d like us to believe,” he mused and pulled up the fleet deployments again. He wasn’t entirely sure when he was actually going to get dinner, he was sure, however, that things on his desk were going to get more complicated when Starfleet brought a second station in the quadrant online. He frowned at the thought and wondered if he could find away to slow down the construction without getting himself into a courts-martial.

Throbbing hums of the lift told Lt. Commander Herkal Torbin that the tube she was crawling in was near the junction of a turbo lift. That was good, she surmised. Taking a deep breath, the Aquamarine-haired Morian continued to crawl along on all fours towards the junction she was in search of, stopping to wipe clean her brow. “One of these days,” she said with a huff, mostly to herself and to any deities that might be listening. “They’re going to build a ship were the important parts aren’t kept in a long, narrow tube of a hallway in the middle of nowhere on the ship. Really they are.” Knowing that such a complaint wasn't going to solve her current problem, she drudged on. Finally arriving at the location of the offending system, she slung her engineering kit off her shoulder and pressed her communications badge. “Torbin to Engineering,” she said as she opened the kit and removed a screw driver. Her commbadge chirped and she heard the voice of the chief engineer, Commander Kale Thomas’ thick ‘southern’ accent stream through. Why, it seemed, that half the engineers in the fleet came from that godforsaken, humidity ridden region of North America, she wasn’t sure. “Good to hear ‘ya,” Thomas drawled. “I thought mahba you’d gone and gotten yerself lost.” Curling her nose as her translator parsed the less than perfect standard her chief employed, she popped off the access panel that was obstructing her. “It’s a large ship, Kale,” she said without mirth. “Maybe they could put these damned things closer to… I don’t know… normal maintenance shafts?” Thomas chuckled. “Naw,” he said. “That’d be too darned easy, dontch’a know.” Humans. Torbin groused and removed the panel from her way and grabbed a spanner from her tool kit. “Just why exactly am I doing this anyway. Everything seems in alignment.” “If ya’d look closer,” Torbin said in a gentle lecturing tone. “The phase coupling is about five microns out’a alignment.” Her silver eyes narrowed as she glanced towards the part and ran a spanner over it. “Oh great goddess above,” she nearly shrieked. “Five. Five microns? You sent me on this wild damned goose chase for a phase coupling five microns out of alignment… when I get back there Kale… I am going to…” “Now wait just one daggoned second,” Thomas said with haste. “It’s an important five microns.” “Five. Microns. Five!” “Yah, well, those five microns are sapping ten-percent power from the phaser array they’re hooked too.” Had she been in the vicinity of him, Kale Thomas would have found himself missing several parts of his body he found essential, as would have the engineers who designed such a horrible system. “That’s stupid… who the hell designs a system that if one damned phase coupling is out of alignment that it saps that much power…” “’At particular part?” “Yes,” she glowered as if the phase coupling were Thomas and not a hunk of metal. “This piece of Thangorian crap!” “Actually, it’s not Thangorian. That particular part of the system was designed by…I think mahbe them thar Caitians…” She frowned and finished realigning the coupling. “Figures.” It wasn’t that she had a dislike for anyone Caitian in particular, but her auto-immune system, on the other hand, had a legendary distaste for the feline creatures. So much so that if she got within ten feet of one the furred beasts and wasn’t in a hermetically sealed suit, she’d swell to the size of a mugato and turn the color of a Rigellian Swamp Beast. “I get that you’re always trying to win efficiency awards,” she finally said as she returned the access panel to its position and screwed it back into place. “I really do. And I know we’re on convoy duty and crap, but really, sending me all the way here to fix a five micron alignment issue. Seriously? I am an expert in plasma relay systems. Couldn’t one of the non-coms do this?” The seriousness of Thomas’ response caught her off guard. “Normally, yes. However, I wanted to make sure it was done up right.” Her eyebrows perked as she replaced the parts in her kit, swung it back over her shoulder and headed down the tube. “It’s a pretty easy fix, Kale.” “Yeah,” he retorted, still in a serious tone she couldn’t recall him having when the ship’s klaxons weren’t blaring at red alert. “However, let’s just say I don’t have none too good of a feeling about this whole little convoy mission.” Chiding him, she continued back the way she’d come. “You’re being paranoid.” “Am not!” Considering if she should respond with the equally childish ‘are too,’ she opted for a more mature tone. “Listen Kale, I know everyone’s on edge with all these attacks. You’re the chief though, they all look to you for strength, so don’t go wigging out.” Thomas’ next response caught her even more offguard. “Herk,” he said. “Would I be sending you off to fix somethin’ like that if I weren’t honest to god worried?” “What has you so spooked?” “When was the last time you saw a Rear Admiral tagging along for a milk-run?” Pausing mid-crawl she shook the thought. “I am sure the Admiral has a perfectly reasonable reason for coming along. It is his ship afterall.” “True ‘nuff,” Thomas retorted, though it was clear he wasn’t convinced. “Not to mention the fact we have a regular flotilla along side with us.” “It is a convoy of dilthlium crystals, Kale.” “Yeah, I get that. But you heard ‘bout what happened to the refinery at Revon IV, right?” She wracked her brain for a response and came up empty. These days she preferred not to even turn on FNS or any of the other myriad of civilian news channels and the name didn’t ring any bells. “No, can’t say that I have. Enlighten me, Kale.” “Whole damned squad of those blue skins sailed in out of one them damned portals…or wormhole things of theirs and blew the whole damned place straight to hell.” The look on Torbin’s face soured. She’d read scattered reports of the…Soltans…attacks on a myriad of strategic targets in the months following their devastating attack on the Sol-system. She also remembered what those ships looked like too, and she also knew that Thomas had been lucky enough to have not been assigned to Excalibur when they’d participated in that battle, either. “Listen Kale,” she said, regaining her composure. “I am sure the Admiral knows what he’s doing and wouldn't be putting us in danger if he knew something was wrong.” “You sure about that? He’s one crafty dog.” She shook her head. “Well, if they do attack. You can rest assured that the phasers on the port side will all be working at full efficiency,” she said, then added lowly, “for what good they’ll do us.”

The bold lines of the Sovereign-class starship seemed out of place amid the cargo transports that lurched ahead of it at warp four. On the bridge, Rear Admiral Ah-Windu Corizon tapped his fingers idly on the command chair arm rests. The Excalibur was never designed for convoy duty, and neither was he to be entirely honest. “Restless, Captain?” Corizon glanced over to see Commander Gage Corwin smiling from the executive officer’s seat. Corizon simply rolled his eyes and resumed tapping aimlessly. “You didn't have to come, you know.” “I thought I’d give Commander Alcot a break.” Corwin grinned widely. “Fair enough, I suppose. But you’re going to ruin the touchpad that way.” Stopping long enough to let out a long-suffering sigh. Corizon shook his head. “It’s a nervous tick I’ve had for years. Done it on every Excalibur bridge dating back to the bee.” The boyish thirty-something Commander grinned wider-still. It was easy to forget that the Dameon Captain had served aboard the Excalibur for over seventeen years off and on and had shepherded her through three different commissioning. “I’d be stating the obvious,” he said, “but when did that stop me? You don’t like convoy duty do you?” The fanged flag officer shook his head. “Not really, no. Especially not aboard a battleship with half the assets in my command committed…” Tipping his head, Corwin nodded his agreement with that last statement. “Just what the hell are they transporting that fleet has a Sovereign, three Steamrunners, a Luna and two Defiants escorting them to port anyway?” “Dilithium crystals,” Corizon said with a grunt. “The damned Soltans have been taking pot shots at our refineries and then there’s that labor issue on… Corian or whatever the name of that planet is.” “Corianis,” Corwin corrected. “Yeah I read something about that.” The Dameon shook his head disapprovingly. “I can’t imagine striking like that when we’re at war.” Corwin decided it wasn’t a topic up for debate and moved on. “So Starfleet is putting this shipment under heavy guard; do they expect an attack on it?” “Well they've only hit one convoy so far—of crystals anyway—so I think Fleet’s just being overly cautious… or they know something I don’t.” “I find that hard to believe, Admiral.” When Corizon didn’t respond, Corwin looked towards him dubiously. “So it is that they think there’s going to be an attack. That explains why you’re actually in command this time instead of Alcot. Lovely. “ “I didn’t say that,” Corizon said defensively. “It was what you didn’t say, Admiral.” Perking an ear, Corizon gave the human commander a sidelong glance. “I’d prefer the entire crew not spend the mission thinking that utter doom could descend upon them at any moment now from subspace, Commander. I’d appreciate if you kept your speculations on my knowledge of Starfleet Intelligence reports to yourself.” Vindicated, Corwin accepted the mild remand from the Admiral with grace. “Of course, Admiral. I won’t speculate any further on your knowledge of Starfleet Intelligence reports, sir.” Nodding with satisfaction the Dameon resumed tapping on his armrest. “The worst part of convoy duty…” “Is the waiting?” “Yes. The waiting.”

Prospective Crew: Thank you for your interest in the Excalibur simulation! The Excalibur is one of the finest, longest-running games on the internet with over 14-years of gaming history. We have a diverse crew with players from all over the United States, Canada and even International simmers. The mission of the Excalibur is simple: we strive to provide a diverse, energetic and fun environment for players of all ages to relax and enjoy themselves. We meet every week for about an hour starting at 10 PM EST on Sundays. The story of the Excalibur, an Akira-class vessel, is as diverse and complex as her crew. Focused primarily in the Gamma Quadrant, the Excalibur is set nearly ten years after the end of the Dominion War. The end of the war has given birth to an unprecedented level of cooperation between the Alpha and Gamma Quadrant, with the former adversaries joining together to build Camelot. The dream of peace, however, has yet to be realized. With the Founders in glorious isolation, as Odo attempts to save his people from themselves, the Dominion has fallen into chaos. The Vorta Council rules in proxy, but without the metaphorical 'white' of the Founders' presence, their hold on power is tenuous. Meanwhile, in the dark heart of the Gamma Quadrant an ancient enemy of the Founders rose once more to challenge their old rivals. A year's long war has left both powers even weaker. The Scorpiads now face a rebellion from their once loyal lieutenants; while the Vorta Council struggles to keep order a group of changelings known as the Hundred have arisen to challenge their authority. Starfleet has pushed beyond the boundaries of Dominion-controlled space, encountering new species, such as the Al-Ucard and Scorpiads—sometimes with devastating results. The bold crew of the Excalibur set out on a year long mission to locate a mysterious object that the Vorta Council hoped would put them back into contact with the Founders. The mission was a success as the crew, after months of searching, finally located the device but the results weren't what the Vorta hoped for and now they must face the reality that the Founders have left them to forge their own destiny. We hope you will join us as we seek peace by the sword, but a peace only under liberty. Sincerely, Captain Ah-Windu Corizon

Sim Guidelines and Policy Packet Current: June 7, 2010 Version 3.95 Welcome to the world of advanced simming! You demonstrated to the Academy staff that you can sim at or beyond the basic level, but there are some things you need to know to continue at the advanced level. You probably know the core differences already (you create a character, the missions continue from week to week with the same crew, etc), but there are some things you may not know. The following are five items of which you'll need to be aware. These items apply specifically to the Excalibur sim; other advanced sims may follow different guidelines. These guidelines supplement the STSF rules, so make sure you are familiar with those as well. Attendance You weren't required to attend every Academy of a certain timeslot; you could attend whichever ones you liked as frequently as you liked. On Excalibur, this is not the case. You now have a crew that you're going to be working with on a permanent basis. They're going to be relying on your presence every week, and if you fail to attend without notice you may end up disrupting their plans. Real life happens. No one can be expected to attend 52 sims a year. All your fellow crewmates ask is that you send an e-mail out if you know you aren't going to be able to attend an upcoming sim. This way, any plans that involve you and your character can be postponed or changed. If you are, for whatever reason, incapable of sending out advance notice, don't sweat it; send an e-mail afterwards explaining your absence so we know that you didn't simply miss the sim because of lack of interest. Absences should not be frequent. If you find that you're missing many sims because of real-life distractions, you may want to question whether you are able to commit to the sim; even with plenty of advance notice, inconsistency on a player's part can be detrimental to the game. If you're not interested enough in the game to attend, either start attending to allow it to grow on you (it eventually will) or leave--a player with no desire to sim is simply taking up roster space. If you have to take some time away from the sim, you can request a Leave of Absence. Generally, a LOA should not last longer than three months. Beyond that time, the command team reserves the right to relinquish your position to another player, reduce your rank, or remove you from the roster entirely. Players who will be gone longer than three months and who plan to return may request an XLOA, however they should not extend beyond 6-months. Note that attending, for example, only three sims over a three month period could be treated as a three month LOA. If you miss four sims in a row, you are automatically placed on LOA. ALL ATTENDANCE matters shall be the purview of the First Officer. The XO is the assistant simulation host and is to be accorded all due privileges. As such, the following measures are included in this policy. Please be aware of them. --A player absent for 3 consecutive weeks without notification to the Commanding or Executive Officer will receive a 1-week warning. --If notification is not made, that player shall be placed on leave of absence after the 4th week and that member's data will be forwarded to the host string to notify future hosts. --After an additional two week period, if the host team has not been contacted by the player, a second e-mail will be sent by either the Commanding or Executive officer, if no reply is received within five days, the player will be removed from the roster and any future assignments to the Excalibur simulation will require approval from the Command team. --Vacations, emergency leaves are always available. Please notify the Commanding and the Executive Officer as soon as possible as a courtesy to the crew and for the continuation of a smooth story line. Rank and Promotions All STSF Academy graduates shall assume their positions at the rank of Ensign. Promotions to the next available rank will be assigned as the Commanding and Executive Officers warrant. Sim attendance, involvement, and logs are all points considered when deciding promotions. The rank structure allows us to maintain a clear chain of command. Players who demonstrate a solid command of the Problem Solving guidelines below make more effective senior officers, while junior officers are expected to input more of the ideas that the senior officers work with. In addition to this, solid attendance, consistent log writing, and good sim etiquette are all considered before a player is promoted. The Excalibur rank structure follows. Note the abbreviations in parenthesis. - Ensign (Ens) - The rank you start with. Many players enjoy playing Ensigns most and actually ask to not be promoted. Ensigns have few responsibilities and are allowed a lot of creativity. You got here simply by graduating the Academy... or maybe you got here by finding that you didn't like the responsibility of the senior officer ranks. - Lieutenant, Junior Grade (LtJg) - The easiest promotion to receive. To reach this rank, you need only attend a few sims, be on your best behavior, and write a few logs. - Lieutenant (Lt) - The top of the junior officer ladder. To reach this rank, you should demonstrate a solid grasp of the Problem Solving guidelines. Input ideas, preferably ones that allow a lot of room for other players to contribute. Develop those ideas with logs as well as simming. - Lieutenant Commander (LtCdr) – A Lt is likely to become a department head (aka chief). A department head receives ideas offered by the assistants and coordinates both with the command staff and with other department heads to translate ideas into action. This is the life of the senior officer, and it carries heavy responsibility. If a player handles that responsibility well, he will be promoted to this rank. The LtCdr's (referred to as "Commander" for short) are leaders even among the senior officers. Within the Excalibur rank structure, this rank is reserved almost exclusively to those in the Senior Officer positions of Department Head. The rank may, however, be given to any non-department head at the discretion of the command team. NOTE: As ascension to this rank is a requirement for GM recruitment, it will be the policy of the command team to consider this when promoting non-department heads. Further promotion to the next rank will be limited to the provisions listed in the Commander rank. - Commander (Cdr) - Under certain circumstances, the Command Staff may choose to waive the restriction of this rank for senior players who have dedicated themselves to the game for a long period of time and who do not wish to, or are otherwise ineligible for GM-status. - Second Officer - Under certain conditions, a Second Officer can be officially appointed by the command team. This player's role will be defined by the command team and the player. The player holding this position will not have the full authority vested in gamemasters, however they will be given limited ACTION authority based on need. In normal simming conventions, even if this position remains unofficially filled, there would be a second officer aboard the ship, regardless of OOC structure. - Command Staff - The CO and XO are GM's assigned to the sim. A player can not be promoted to the command staff without becoming a GM and applying for an open command staff slot. The command staff ranks are usually Commander, Captain, Commodore, or Admiral. The following is a Marine rank equivalency chart for reference. Fleet Rank - Marine Rank Ensign (Ens.) - Second Lieutenant (2Lt.) Lieutenant, junior grade (Lt.,j.g.) - First Lieutenant (1Lt.) Lieutenant (Lt.) - Lieutenant Major (Lt.Maj.) Lieutenant Commander (Lt.Cmdr.) - Major (Maj.) Commander (Cmdr.) - Lieutenant Colonel (Lt.Col.) Captain (Cptn.) - Colonel (Col.) ALL PERSONNEL matters shall be forwarded to the ship's XO for resolution (CC all ship's business to the CO), pending the Commanding Officer's final approval. This includes division and ship-to-ship transfers. A roster shall be posted to all crew members and the director of STSF personnel and periodically updated. Exceptions: On accepted transfer, and with the Commanding Officer's consent, a new member may be allowed to retain his/her former rank. The same may be accorded to any veteran STSF officer depending on the circumstance. Simply because a member creates a screen name with a specific rank DOES NOT imply that this rank shall be accepted on assignment to a simulation. On many ships there is often a member who serves in a different rank or capacity on a different ship/sim. That rank is NOT carried over to the Excalibur except when specified as above. Therefore, the Captain on another sim may not necessarily be allowed that rank or those privileges on a second simulation. On Excalibur we are fortunate to have several seasoned veterans who participate in other capacities because they enjoy this venue of entertainment Logs It's easy to assume that any given Advanced sim, just like any given Academy, is a 1 hour per week activity. This is not the case. The advanced sims introduce logs, and both writing logs and reading logs written by others could make a sim a 5 hour per week activity. You should allot enough of your free time every week to read your crewmates' logs and write one or two of your own. You could just ignore the log-writing aspect of the sim altogether, but this would hurt your ability to both understand and enjoy the sims. Why are logs so important? There are a number of reasons. The most basic log is the duty log. Despite its simplicity, it's also the most important type. The shortest duty log (a single paragraph) can be nothing more than a summary of the last sim from your character's point of view. A more complex log could include analysis of events that occurred, speculation as to why they occurred, suggestions as to how the crew could react to them, and plans for the next sim. Such a log accomplishes quite a bit. By reading it, your crewmates can enjoy an extensive recap of everything that happened during the last sim, especially events that they weren't paying direct attention to. In a busy sim, there can be over five separate events occurring around the ship and possibly off of it, all at the same time, from the integral events that drive the mission to the subplots that occupy the departments; even an experienced player can have difficulty keeping track of all those plot threads. Without duty logs, the only recap available is the recording of the chat session, but reading this is boring and still requires separation of the plot threads, though many players find reading the chatlog (which is posted weekly) helpful. A duty log also sets the stage for the next sim. By recapping a previous sim and indicating what your plans are for the next sim, you won't be lost when the sim starts. Additionally, your crewmates will be aware what you plan to do and make their own plans accordingly. Keep your eyes open for the mission briefing, usually written by the CO; while other logs may set the stage for various plot threads, the briefing sets the stage for the central plot thread. You were encouraged to make a "stock" character in the Academy--less personality, more attention to duty. In the Advanced sim, where you're simming with the same group every week, creating and developing a unique character and his/her relationships makes for a much more vibrant game. To start, you should write a character bio. Your bio can be as simple as a short list of attributes (name, age, gender, etc) or it can include more detailed background information--childhood history, education, personality, medical records, or anything else you can think of. It doesn't need to be this detailed at first since your bio can be updated as you sim. Whichever your preference, your character can be developed further in the sims and through use of personal logs. You are asked to create a biography within a month of being posted to the simulation. All Biographies should be sent to the CO and the XO for approval before being posted into the Bio's folder on the Excalibur boards. The host team reserves the right to modify all biographies to fit the simulation regulations, and will be subject to the "magic bullet" rule. Personal logs usually have very little to do with the mission, instead focusing on your character. You can define your character's feelings for another player's character, detail an important lesson your character recently learned, recount moments from the character's past, describe strange hobbies, habbits, personality quirks, emotional struggles, mood swings, or anything else you can think of to give your character extra dimensions. But be careful--don't get so wrapped up in your personal logs that you disconnect your character from ship business. If you plan to write a lot of personal logs, mix in enough duty logs to create a healthy balance. Sometimes, logs are made for two... or three, or four, or five, etc.. This is where joint logs come in. Joint logs are a collaborative effort by one more than one log writer. They can be duty logs featuring several officers discussing and brainstorming a plot thread (same as a standard duty log, only with several people offering input). Or they can be personal logs, recounting an off-duty hangout such as a poker game, movie night, a friendly stroll through the arboretum, or even something a bit more intimate. If you have an idea for a log, and you think it would involve some of your crewmates, send them a PM or E-mail to arrange a joint log. Joint logs are usually simmed out in a PM or chat room and converted to a more log friendly format afterwards, but a few are exchanged by e-mail with each writer contributing a piece in turn. Check out the Advanced sim forums on the STSF message board to get ideas of what sorts of logs are written and how they are written. Logs also let the command staff know you're following along with the storyline and enjoying it. It also helps you focus on the events of the last sim and how to prepare for the next one. It doesn't need to be a novel, just however much you want to put down to express your thoughts at the moment. All logs should be sent to the entire crew as E-Mail and posted to the Excalibur boards. This ensures that everyone aboard receives the mail and allows everyone in STSF the ability to see what is happening aboard our vessel. This is often helpful for newly assigned crew members who can read the boards to get up to speed on the current mission. One more reminder on logs: Please, make your logs readable. In other words, try and use standard grammar, spelling, punctuation, etc. Read a few of the other crewmember's logs. You'll get the idea. DO NOT SEND MAIL WHICH WILL AFFECT THE SHIP WITHOUT THE CO OR AND XO'S APPROVAL. DO NOT SEND MAIL WHICH WILL AFFECT ANOTHER CREW MEMBER WITHOUT THEIR PERMISSION. Etiquette For most people, this is not a major issue. We can all respect each other as gamers and enjoy the sims together. But a reminder of the various points here can be helpful in avoiding problems between players. These are simply basic rules of conduct. You'll see the term PM (Private Message) used a lot. PM's are the "magic lamp" of player etiquette, useful for both resolving disputes and for getting to know your fellow players better. Don't take your rank too seriously. Rank is only a convenience that allows for a more smoothly run sim. A Lieutenant does not have a right to "talk down" to an Ensign, unless they've both agreed by PM that it's appropriate (see OOC and IC below), and junior officers are just as important to a sim as senior officers. Our characters may outrank one another, but as players we're all on a level playing field and we can all at least role-play seniority in a respectful manner. Keep in mind that a fine line exists between what goes on out of character (OOC) and what goes on in character (IC), and that that line can sometimes become blurred, leading to confusion and conflicts. Sometimes a character can be *very* different from the player behind it--rude, bitter, and ill-tempered, for instance, whereas the player is far more amiable. And sometimes arguments and fights can take place between characters whose players are actually very good friends OOC. If you see something like this in a sim, assume that it's exactly what it is... a staged performance by online actors. If you think you'd like to sim a little tension or even hostility between your character and another player's character, first be sure to let that player know what you want to do and make sure it's alright. Any physical violence between characters, no matter the circumstances, should be cleared by PM. PM's are useful for many other reasons. Sometimes, a character speaks to another character in sim but isn't answered. Don't assume you're being ignored if this happens. Sims can be busy, and chat lines can be missed. Simply send a PM to the player pointing out that you're trying to get his/her attention. If you're confused about something (you've lost track of a plot thread, you're not sure why someone's doing something, you've forgotten how a certain technology works) PMing the appropriate person can help. PM's are exchanged regularly during a sim to ensure that everyone is on the same page. Avoid clogging the chat room with excessive << OOC statements like this >>. A few such statements are ok, but back and forth discussions should be moved to PM. If you write a log that involves another player's character extensively, send the log to the player for approval first. No one wants a character misrepresented in someone else's log. If you're planning a log that involves another player's character extensively, you may want to consider contacting the player for a joint log. Finally, if you have a dispute with another player, take a simple two-step approach. Politely contact the player by PM and try to resolve the dispute yourselves; if this doesn't help the situation, notify the command staff. The best way to avoid disputes is to get to know your crewmates. How can you do this? Simple... send them PM's. But please, please be aware that each of us has "feelings." Out-of-character attacks upon another crew member will not be tolerated. There is absolutely nothing wrong with two "characters" arguing, but make sure that each person understands it is a "character" interaction. If the hosts feel the interaction is disrupting the simulation, we will warn you via IM or email. Continued disruption will be dealt with under the Terms of Service. In addition to your play on Excalibur, we expect you to maintain your behavior across the board at STSF. This includes any other games you may participate on, Academies and the general boards. If you are reprimanded by another GM, or caught behaving poorly, this is not only a reflection of yourself, but also the entire Excalibur simulation and the GM-team. Any incidents reported to the command team will be dealt with under the terms of service and may result in the player(s) being demoted, held back from promotion, removal of the game or any other methods deemed appropriate by the command team. Excalibur's command team takes great pride in the simulation and we would ask that you would show this same pride by abiding by standard behavioral conventions. Problem Solving and Game Play In the Academy, you weren't expected to do much--follow the chain of command, watch out for and react to ACTIONs, don't lose focus of the mission, keep busy, and interact with others. You graduated past all of that. In the Advanced sims, with missions continuing from week to week, problems will tend to be a bit more complex, but this will offer you the opportunity to be more creative. You're now expected (rather than encouraged) to chip in with observations and ideas about a mission. But you also have to be mindful of the limitations... Excalibur's missions are generally series of problems to be solved. You have the one central problem (first contact with a new species, exploring a new system, investigating an anomaly, etc) that must be ultimately solved, and several smaller problems that crop up along the way (not all of them related to the central problem). A common misconception by an inexperienced simmer is that the goal of simming is to solve these problems. Actually, the goal is to have fun role-playing the effort to solve the problems... possibly failing miserably along the way. In fact, not all missions end with a positive result, but as long as the players had fun, the game was a success. Sometimes a player will try to be a superhero, coming up with and executing the one action that quickly solves everything (usually involving the character performing a feat well beyond his/her capability or the use of some technobabbical innovation that no one understands). The problem with such a solution (aside from possibly not making sense) is that it will cut any given mission down to one or two sims, which means no one will have any opportunity to enjoy pitching in. You want to contribute ideas, but how can you do it without going overboard? Here are some suggestions: -Practical solutions - If you go before your chief or the CO suggesting that we escape the nebula with a baryon/tetryon deflector pulse combined with a phaser beam modulated to an alpha wave frequency, you're going to get some glazed expressions... at best. At worst, your idea will actually be used, the problem will be solved, and there will be no room to come up with anything more creative. Use of technobabble is appropriate to fit the Trek setting, but it should not be the sole solution to any problem. Rather, it should be used to embellish a more practical solution to a problem. Ask yourself... what, exactly, does the baryon/tetryon pulse do? Or the modulated phaser beam? Would they push the ship, create a protective bubble around the ship, open a rift that the ship could use as an anchor? Outline what they do, and your superior officers will be able to figure out what sorts of consequences would arise (more of those "smaller problems") and how those consequences could be addressed. If you're not sure yourself what they would do... you might not have the best solution. It's often best to start by putting the problem in practical terms. If the ship is trapped in a nebula... what exactly does this mean? What smaller problems are posed? Can you draw analogies between the problem and real-life scenarios (maybe a car being stuck in mud during a hurricane)? When you have the problem in practical terms, come up with practical solutions, then put the solutions into a Trek context. - Imperfect solutions - Should your solution be the immediate answer to everything? Of course not. If it is, you have something to learn about teamwork. Simming is a team game, and the best players are the ones who find ways to involve others. When coming up with a solution, don't say "I think it will work." Instead, say "it could work, but there are a lot of elements that need to be addressed." Maybe the baryon/tetryon pulse would create radiation harmful to the crew. Maybe the phaser modulations would require direct modification of the phaser arrays. Maybe the nebula would have to be monitored for dangerous particle concentrations. Make your solution full of even more smaller problems, and the rest of the crew will have ways to become involved. If another player is presenting a solution that isn't full of holes, put some holes in it yourself (especially if you're a department head). The solution wasn't your idea, but your character is an expert in areas that the other player's character is not, so you might know more about some of the problems that would be posed. On the other hand, don't simply say "no, that won't work." That's just negativity. Indicate that the solution could work but that there are a lot of gaps to fill first. - Believable solutions - Obvious enough and something that any Academy graduate should understand. You're not going to move the comet off its collision course by detonating the system's star, and you're not going to send a command that makes the consoles in Engineering come alive and fight off the intruders as if Excalibur has become Fantasia. Some solutions are not quite that exaggerated but are still outside the realm of possibility. But don't even respond to a solution like this with "no, that won't work." Take the solution presented, acknowledge that the idea has merit even if the method does not, and offer alternatives. You're not going to blow up the star... but maybe you can create a smaller shockwave significant enough to push the comet. You can't make the Engineering consoles pop up and fight... but you might find a way to surround them with electricity fields. - One tree, many branches - If a solution to a problem is being worked on, do you... a) lend a hand and/or your brain to help develop the solution or come up with a completely different solution? Saying "I've got a better idea" is a signal that you're ignoring your teammates and trying to become the focus of attention. Contribute to solutions that have already been presented. If you're a department head, develop the solution by presenting problems that need to be addressed (as indicated above). If you're an assistant, and you're not sure how you could pitch in to the problem solving effort, ask your superior officer what you can do to help. Don't scrap your "better idea" entirely--maybe it can somehow be integrated into the solution already being developed, or maybe it can be saved for a similar problem further down the road. - Imperfect characters - You're sitting in the holding cell in the middle of the mysterious alien lab... but you're not about to stand for this! You bust open a wall panel with your bare hands and disconnect the circuits inside, shutting down the force field. Out of your cell, you overpower the four guards, managing to dodge all of their pulse rifle blasts. You move over to the nearby computer terminal and start accessing all of the lab's systems, even though this terminal is only meant to access the brig. You seal off all the doors, lock the aliens out of the computer, and send out a distress signal for Excalibur to pick up. After a few seconds, you remember to release your crewmates from their cells. By the way, did I mention you're a medical officer? This is called "god moding" and it's inappropriate because if one character can do everything you don't need any other characters. This was an exaggerated example, the kind of thing that would hold you back about 10 sims in the Academy (not to mention invoking a swift GM ACTION killing your character off). But god moding can always creep up in more subtle ways. Try to remember... you're not here to solve problems, you're here to have fun making the effort. Avoid the mindset that the sim is a challenge to be overcome and put more emphasis on what you're *not* capable of doing. Flaws encourage teamwork and are a lot more fun to role-play. - In-Character Romantic Relationships - While the Excalibur Command staff does not discourage romantic relationships "in-character;" we strongly advise against jumping into them the first week you're on a game. And while they can certainly ad depth to a character, and realistically romance would be a normal part of any fleet officer's life, we advise extreme caution. Some pointers: -Don't turn it in to "Days of Our Lives: Excalibur," a little drama now and then is okay, but melodrama isn't a way to win points with anyone. And besides, most people really don't want to read it, if they did, they'd check out a copy of Twilight. -Take care to make sure that both parties are aware that relationship is IN CHARACTER ONLY. When OOC becomes involved, things tend to get messy -Please keep the in-sim relationship to a minimum. After all, in-game is usually while characters are on duty, and this a military ship where flirtations would not be looked upon kindly. - Gamemasters Actions - It was once said that if everyone had a perfect life, it would be boring. Occasionally, the command team might decide… at random… to throw a huge monkey wrench in your characters plans. If this happens, don't panic! Just like real life, not everything should work out the way we plan it. In fact, it usually doesn't. If a GM decides (or their dice decide) that something is going to go wrong, just go with the flow. If you have a problem with something, talk to the GM in private and ask them about the situation. Generally a GM isn't going to turn your character's life upside down without asking you about it first, but even if they do… go with it. You might find that a little bit of strife once in a while can be far more fun than being June Cleaver. Also keep in mind that you can, and most likely will at some point, die. - Telepath Players - In regard to telepaths, please note that as with logs, permission MUST be obtained from other players before your character can sense any particular thought or emotion that is not explicitly spelled out on screen. For example, without permission, the following is NOT acceptable Corizon> ::throws chair across the room:: Telepath> ::senses Corizon's anger:: Since I simply may like throwing chairs, the following IS acceptable: Corizon> ::is extremely angry:: Telepath> ::senses Corizon's anger:: - A Final Reminder on Role Playing - This is a game, played for enjoyment; it is natural to assume that a variety of circumstances will occur. However, please understand that while this simulation is not real we still expect an atmosphere of realism. Thus, it is expected that your character will not engage in actions that exceed the bounds of what can be called realistic. There are no "super heroes," just a team of dedicated officers. Likewise, the ship does not heal herself. Any damage the ship receives must be repaired. Please note, repairs take time, they are not instantaneous: no "magic bullets." Finally, while 24th century technology is quite advanced, Star Trek has its limits, and we work within them. ---- The USS Excalibur is a sim of Star Fleet Simulation Forum. This document is an internal policy packet intended only for the USS Excalibur simulation. The command staff of the Excalibur reserves the right to modify this document at any time without notification.

Current: 5.9.11 Guide: Denotes LOA += NPC *= Excalibur Starburst of Excellence ^= Crispin Xavier Stamina Award &= Captain's Quill and PADD Award (!) = Order of the Round Table -- Command Division: This division is lead by the command staff and contains the enlisted division of Administrative Command. All Departments ultimately report to this division. It is led by the Commanding Officer. In addition key functions normally termed "Operations" such as communications and navigation, fall under this division. Tactical, which handles weapons control and defensive systems operation, also works nominally within this department to operate communications equipment. Essentially, the Executive officer functions as the 'Chief of Operations,' and coordinates the cross-department functions of bridge and ship operations. Commanding Officer- Captain Asher Swain (!) Executive Officer- Commander Ruth "Rue" Wydown (!) Helm/Navigation- OPEN Operations- Lieutenant, J.G. Faeona (Fae) Waters Tactical- Rotated Through Security -- Engineering: This division is tasked with the maintenance and operation of the vessel's systems. As a unit, they contain the enlisted division of Technical Engineering and Operations Support, and they work closely with the Air Group. The unit is led by the Chief of Engineering. Chief of Engineering- Commander Tandaris Admiran *&(!) Assistant Engineer- Lieutenant Commander Marius tr'Lorin* Assistant Engineer- Ensign Sean Howard^&(!) Assistant Engineer- OPEN Assistant Engineer- OPEN -- Medical: This division's task is obvious—the care and welfare of the crew. In practice, the medical division works closely with all departments, but particularly with science when dealing with threats to the ship, or new problems that may arise in a given mission. There is no dedicated enlisted division that coincides with Medical, however the grade of Medtech and Hospital Corpsmen within the Administrative Command division function under the de facto leadership of the Chief Medical Officer. Within the department there are various subsections, such as Chief Surgeon, or Chief Counselor, however, all of these sub-department heads report directly to the CMO. Chief Medical Officer- Lieutenant Commander Maryse Dubois (!) Assistant Medical Officer- OPEN Assistant Medical Officer- OPEN Assistant Medical Officer- OPEN Counselor- OPEN -- Security: Protecting the vessel from all threats is the most important, but not only, role the Security division plays aboard a starship. They function as not only a military police, but also serve as the ships first line of defense and work closely with the Marine division during ground operations. Chief Security Officer- Lieutenant Commander Mark Garrison ^^^&(!) Assistant Security Officer- Lieutenant Victria *&&&(!) Assistant Security Officer- Lieutenant, J.G. Charlotte A. Matsumura *& Assistant Security Officer- OPEN Assistant Security Officer- OPEN -- Science: Possibly the most diverse group aboard any starship, the Science department serves a vital roll in the Federation's primary mission of exploration. Officer's in this department work closely with the Command division to help solve problems the ship encounters, as well as conducts research of its own, often in concert with civilian scientists stationed aboard the ship. Science is headed by the Chief Science Officer who usually also holds the title of 'Director of Scientific Research,' though not by default. Chief Science Officer- Commander Laarell Teykier ^^^&(!) Assistant Science Officer- Lieutenant Elizabeth Anne Clarke Assistant Science Officer- OPEN Assistant Science Officer- OPEN Assistant Science Officer- OPEN Head of Geological Sciences- Commander Kahrak (Secondary Shift Science Officer) -- 310th Fighter Squadron: Aboard some ships and stations, such as the Excalibur, there is a dedicated 'air' group. In those situations, all secondary craft and their operations fall under the direct supervision of the Squadron commander, nominally titled 'Chief of the Air Group' or CAG. Chief of the Air Group- OPEN Pilot- OPEN Pilot- OPEN Pilot- OPEN Pilot- Ensign Jagrissa "Jumper" Honor-Scar (Utility Support Pilot)+ -- Marines: With the expansion of the Starfleet Marine Corps, a number of new roles aboard Federation Starships in regards to this division have been created. Typically, the bulk of the Marine Deployment aboard a starship will be enlisted crew, while Marine officers serve in any branch of starships operational needs. Marines may be called upon to fulfill any number of mission requirements and must be among the most flexible departments aboard a starship or station. , the Marine detachment aboard a starship is under the direction of the highest ranking officer who rank, depending on the size of the deployment, is typically a Colonel or Major and under the supervision of the Commanding Officer of the vessel. Marine CO- Major Cloud Makisu+ Senior NCO: Sargent Major Matt Morris+ Marine XO - OPEN Marine - OPEN Marine - OPEN -- Non-Classified Captain's Yeoman- P.O. Odile Condacin+ Captain's Yeoman- P.O. Augustus Quintus+ -- XLOA: Lieutenant Commander Marius tr'Lorin *(!) Lieutenant, J.G. Asyle Lieutenant, j.g. Doug.t

Note: This document is subject to change and should be used only for reference. Camelot Station: Starfleet Personnel: Starfleet Gamma Quadrant Command (SGQC) Commanding Officer: Vice-Admiral Misha Abronvonvich Station Commanding Officer: Captain Alexander Calypsos Station Executive Officer: Commander Blair Chief Science Officer: Dr. Alyssa Yavin, Lt. Cmdr Chief of Operations: Lt. Commander Corris Sprint Chief Medical Officer: Dr. Kaell Ha'Jolka, Lt. Director of Station Security: Lt. Colonel Darren Lockhaven Director of Flight Control Operations: Lt. Samar Ha-Kal-no Director of Starship Repair and Dry Dock: Commander Gerald Hallon 108th Air Group: Pilot: Lt.,(j.g.) Aerilo "Aero" Perez ATAG Operational Attaché: Lt Michaels Romulan Galae Personnel: Chief Engineer: Erei'Riov (Sub-Commander) Akal t'Faelo Chief Dockmaster: El'Arrain (Senior Centurion) Taemid tr'Lokan Klingon Defense Force Personnel: Chief Tactical Officer: Sogh'a (Senior Lieutenant) BroHngh Chief of Diplomatic Security: RawI (Commander) haGnOka Diplomatic: Romulan Liaison: Ambassador Riiji t'Osaen Klingon Liaison: Governor K'Vorlag Dominion Liaison: Vorta Functionary Taela Hundred Liaison: Vorta Functionary Semil Federation Liaison: Ambassador t'Salik Shalia Liaison: Ambassador Zie Scorpiad Liaison: Ambassador cKgha'Lieeeknajfttt'Ookdnnna (Kegha'Lekokda) Civilian: Proprietor of the Holy Grail: Mog* Proprietor of the Ambrosia: Samoth Ryvertu* -- Avalon Base: Commanding Officer, Avalon Base: Commander Cedric Tannis* Chief Medical Officer, Avalon Base: Lt. Shujinko Akia* -- Romulan Base: Commanding Officer: Administrator N'Rycus -- Romulan Fleet: Commanding Officer: Rear Admiral Jaelin t'Leaii

As the Union settled into her recovery mission of the Scorpiad vessel, light-years away the owners of said vessel were embroiled in a recovery mission of their own. The hull plating of the Al-Ucard warship, Lathe of Heaven, groaned under the stress of pulling a near 330 degree turn at high impulse and shuddered as a barrage of streaking white quantum pulses racked her mid-ship. “Damage report,” the master of the Lathe called, gripping his pale white hands to the stiff chair that straddled the command center. “We’ve sustained heavy damage,” an operations officer said as he smacked at his flickering console. “At this rate…” “I know.” Outside a Scorpiad ship rocked under the combined fire of three Al-Ucard warships and broke into tiny, crumbled pieces as the organic hull shriveled and died. The Lathe swung through the wreckage as two Scorpiad scout ships volleyed sprays of quantum pulses at her. “We’ve lost one of them,” the tactical officer growled, furiously pressing buttons that fired off return shots. “But the other two hard are sticking on us…” “What’s the status of the fleet?” No sooner than the words had escaped his mouth, than the viewscreen of the Lathe lit up with a blinding light and the ship rocked under the force of a shock wave. “We just lost another of the Eratian Hive-ships,” a voice said. “Damnit.” “They’re the only thing we have capable of going toe to toe with the G’Jak…” “I know that,” the commander of the Lathe hissed. “What of the evacuation…” “Only 42 percent complete, we’ve kept them from directly assaulting the evacuee ships, but at this rate, we’re not going to have a fleet much longer. Only three of the eight Eratian motherships are still in fighting condition, we’ve lost over sixteen of our capitol ships…” The Lathe shuddered and groaned as a graviton beam from one of the Scorpiad warships struck out at the offending starship. “We can’t last much longer, your lordship.” The commander smacked his balled fist against the chair-arm. “Signal Gamma and Beta wings to fall back to the rendezvous points. Alpha fleet will hold until they’ve left, maybe we can give the evacuation force more time.” -- Aboard the shimmering, organic black-hull of the Scorpiad flagship Vengeance’s Call, Field General G’Kkkeeet of Astren, worked his chelicerae with growing glee as the holographic display that hovered above the command dais on the bridge of the Vengeance showed his victory unfolding. “The’re retreating, General,” said a darkly striped Androct below him. “They’re falling back in two waves…” “Leaving their evacuation fleet ripe for the picking I see,” G’Kkkeeet clicked with audible glee. “They likely hope we’ll follow the warships through to warp, or will try and pick them off as they jump.” Behind him, the figure of an Emri, G’Kkkeeet’s first attaché, lifted his caudia, expressing curiosity. “You don’t mean to destroy this fleet then, my lord? Not to question you, on the eve of victory, but do they not pose a larger threat than the civilians?” G’Kkkeeet turned three of his eyes to look towards the black-carapaced Emri, his own yellow-black carapace visible in the field of view. “There are no civilians in a rebellion. If we let them escape, they will not see the error of their ways. If we instill fear into the Al-Ucard and Eratian population, perhaps they will reconsider this rebellion all together.” “Then why commit out forces to this invasion, why not simply use the starkiller?” “This is system is a…” -- As the last Al-Ucard warship jumped to warp, the Commander of the Lathe glanced towards the tactical officer to his left. “Activate the graviton mines…” “But my lord… the… the… civilians!” “Knew the risks, their deaths will further the rebellion, weaken the Scorpiad Empire, and embolden those who have yet to join the cause.” The words rang hollow in his own mouth, but he knew that the order was what he must do. He nodded to the tactical officer who heavily pressed a blinking button on his console. -- As the spider-like Scorpiad starships approached to stalk down the defenseless transports of Al-Ucard civilians, there was at first a bright flash, then another, then another, and another and another until the entire system was a blaze with the flashes of graviton bombs. Amidst the explosions, a solitary Scorpiad scout jumped to warp. The only survivor. -- “Empress,” Na’Kleeek’tgh clicked excitedly as he approached the Scorpiad Empress, who was walking towards the throne room. “Yes,” she said without bothering to direct even a single eye towards the Lepertus advisor who’d been assigned to her. “What is it?” “I have news from Falkon…” “Oh?” “The system is no longer under Al-Ucard control.” “That is most pleasing to us,” she said, continuing down the long hallway that, like the rest of the palace, had literally been carved into the underground rock of the Scorpiad homeworld, far from the searing heat of the surface. “However,” Na’Kleeek’tgh said, making sure to keep a small distance between him and the Empress. “General K’Lkenn reports that our entire fleet involved with the attack was lost.” Stopping mid-stride and directing not one but all six of her eyes and body towards the Lepertus, the Empress raised her caudia into striking position and clicked her pedipalps angrily. “How… how is that possible… an… entire…” Backing away out of striking range, Na’Kleeek’tgh lowered himself in a sign of submission. “Your eminence,” he clicked reverently. “The general reports that the Al-Ucard used graviton mines to destroy our fleet as they approached the planet.” “Why did they not simply eradicate the system with the Star Killer,” she questioned. “Eminence, Falkon is a focal system. A not just a focal system, it’s a transfer point along the fold-space network that would allow us to drop our forces nearly directly on the Al-Ucard home system.” “…and let me guess… the graviton mines dissipated the focal buoy?” Na’Kleeek’tgh was impressed with the Empress’ knowledge of the technology behind their FT-FTL drives, but kept that emotion from coming through, least she decide to strike out at him. “Yes, and it will take us some time to get one of the focal-point generators into the system.” Relaxing from the strike position, the Empress worked her chelicerae for what seemed an eternity to Na’Kleeek’tgh. Finally she began walking towards the throne room again. “Find General N’Kkrittt.” “Eminence? If I may be so bold,” Na’Kleeek’tgh said, staying a few meters behind her. “The General is in exile… you know as well as anyone of his failure to secure victory against the Dominion.” “Yes,” she said, continuing towards the throne room. “But I also know he is one of the greatest military commanders of his generation. We can no longer afford failure in this rebellion, we must crush it.” “As you command, Eminence. I will have him found and brought to your audience.”

The USS Excalibur simulation will run on July 5, 2009. Absences will be excused.

Name: USS Union Registry: NCC-21776 Class: Excelsior Type: Medium Cruiser Commissioned: 2335 Dimensions: Length : 467 m Beam : 185 m Height : 100 m Decks : 28 Mass: 2,105,000 metric tons Crew: 500 officers/enlisted + Flight Crews; 8,500 Evacuation Limit Armament: 16 x Type IX-E phaser arrays, total output 24,000 Terawatts 2 x Rapid Fire Quantum Torpedo Launcher + 75 torpedoes 2 x Burst Fire Photon Torpedo Launchers + 300 torpedoes Defense Systems: Regenerative shield system, total capacity 2,350,000 TeraJoules Standard Duranium/Tritanium Double hull plus 3.5 cm High Density Armor. High level Structural Integrity Field Propulsion / Power Systems: Warp Propulsion and main power provided by a Type VIII-CQ M/AM Reactor Impulse power provided by two impulse engines powered by two fusion reactors encased each within engine housing. Maneuverability provided by a series of eight surface mounted retro-thrusters pods [four retro-thrusters per pod] and a series of ten embedded RCS thruster quads Warp Speeds (TNG scale) Normal Cruise : 6.5 Maximum Cruise : 9.7 for 10 hours Maximum Rated : 9.8 for 8 hours. Diplomatic Capability: Grade III Expected Hull Life 120 years Refit Cycle: Minor : 2 year Standard : 10 years Major : 20 years Design History: The legendary "great experiment" has become one Starfleet's most venerable and recognizable ships during a nearly hundred service history. Now on her third refit cycle, the ships have been modded to reflect their continuing roll as a support ship for the Federation's newest classes. Primary upgrades to the Union, completed in 2379, include upgraded EPS; upgraded LCARS and data networks; refurbishment of science and medical areas as well as updated crew accommodations; addition of a second holodeck; upgraded sensor palates; upgraded warp coils, and upgrade of primary warp drive to new Class VIII-CQ module; upgraded weapon systems; all new shielding and defense systems combined with upgraded high-density armor. Deck Layout Deck 1: Captain’s Ready Room, Main Bridge, Briefing Room Deck 2: Junior and Senior Officers Quarters, VIP/Guest Quarters Deck 3: Officers Quarters, VIP/Officer's Mess Deck 4: NCO Quarters, Enlisted Crew Mess, Galley Deck 5: Main Phaser and Fire Control, Auxiliary Control Room and Support, Impulse Engines and Engineering Support Deck 6: Primary Life Support Systems, Primary Computer Core Control, Cargo Bay 1 & 2, Recreation Rooms 1 and 2 Deck 7: Computer Core, Sickbay, Chief Medical Officer's Office, Primary Science Labs, Counselor's Office Deck 8: Computer Core, Junior Officers and Crew Quarters, Main Lounge, Secondary Science Labs, Fusion Power Generators 1 and 2 Deck 9: Interconnecting Dorsal/Intermix Shaft/Turbolifts, Forward Torpedo Bay Control, Forward Torpedo Bay Magazine, Armoury, Holding Cells, Chief Tactical Officer's Office Deck 10: Transporter Room 1, Interconnecting Dorsal/Intermix, Shaft/Turbolifts, Forward Torpedo Launchers, Shuttlebay Hangar and Maintenance Sections Deck 11: Upper Engineering Support Area, Machine Shop, Primary Maintenance Support Centre, Shuttlebay, Warp Core - M/ARA Reaction Assembly, Deuterium Storage Tanks Deck 12: Main Engineering, Primary Systems Support Compartment, Living Quarters, Shuttle Bay, Warp Core - M/ARA Reaction Assembly, Fusion Power Generators 3 and 4 Deck 13: Living Quarters, Primary Shuttle Maintenance Hangar, Main Deflector Auxiliary Systems, Emergency Batteries / Fusion Power Generators 5 and 6, Aft Phaser and Torpedo Weapon Control, Warp Core - M/ARA Reaction Assembly, Emergency Transporter Rooms 1 and 2 Deck 14: Secondary Deflector Control, Living Quarters, Stellar Cartography, Cargo Bay 1, Warp Core - M/ARA Reaction Assembly, Engineering Section Impulse Engine Control and Support Centre, Engineering Section Impulse Engines, Enlisted Personnel Living Quarters Deck 15: Recreation Deck/Zero-G Gymnasium, Crew Lounge, Deuterium Storage,Warp Core - M/ARA Reaction Assembly, Engineering Section Impulse Engines, Nacelle Power Transfer Assembly, Nacelle Personnel Transfer Conduit, Primary and Emergency Deflector Dish Graviton Polarity Generators, Subspace field distortion generators, Enlisted Personnel Living Quarters Deck 16: Tertiary Multipurpose Laboratories, Transporter Room 2, Emergency Transporter Room 3-4, Warp Core - M/ARA Reaction Assembly, Cargo Bay 3 - Primary Cargo Bay, Cargo Bay 2, Cargo Bay 4, Cargo Transporters 2, 3 and 4. Deck 17: Waste Recycling, Environmental Control, Emergency Batteries, Brig, Secondary Computer Core, Anti-matter Generators, Gravimetric Polaron Generators, Secondary Shield Generators, Warp Core - M/ARA Reaction Assembly Deck 18: Anti-matter Injectors, Warp Core - M/ARA Reaction Assembly, Emergency Gravimetric Polaron Generators, Tractor Beam Generator, fore and aft Tractor Beam assemblies Deck 19: Marine Command Centre, Marine Barracks, Bunker Rooms, Drill Area, Marine Armoury, Marine Shooting Range Deck 20: Forward Torpedo Launchers One & Two, Tractor Beam Emitters, Living Quarters, Cargo Bay, Marine Barracks, Bunker Rooms Deck 21: Docking Ports, Deflector Control, Library, Hydroponics Bay, Antimatter Tanks Deck 22: Crew Quarters, Transporter Room, Parts Storage, Secondary Computer Core, Deck 23: Emergency Batteries, Secondary Antimatter & Deuterium storage, Crew Quarters Deck 24: Crew Quarters, Industrial Replicators, Phaser Control, Tractor Beam Control, Aft Torpedo Launcher Two, Deck 25: Brig, Ship's Quartermaster's Office, Exobiology Lab, Research Labs, Deck 26: Emergency Batteries, Shuttlebay, Shuttle Storage & Maintenance Deck 27: Auxiliary Power Control, Power Relay Junction Network System, Warp Core Ejection Systems Deck 28: Power Relay Junction Network System, Tractor Beam Emitter, Warp Core Ejection Systems

With a whirl of the servos that powered the doors that sealed the entrance way to briefing room that overlooked the Round Table room Corizon made his way down the handful of stairs. Waiting for him were the two faces of the senior officers of the station – Misha Abronvonvich and Alexander Calypsos. Smiling he measured both of them up quickly before proceeding further. “Admiral,” he said with a small nod. The salt and pepper haired human returned the nod with small, but pleasant smile of his own. He had the air about him of someone who knew a kindred spirit when he saw it. Corizon knew that they had a lot in common – two men who’d rather be working directly with a situation as opposed to dealing with bureaucracy. “Captain,” Abronvonvich said with a slight Russian accent. “This is Captain Calypsos, station CO.” Corizon nodded towards the taller, almost wispy brown haired man of about forty sitting to the left of the Admiral. “Captain.” “Captain Corizon,” Calypsos said in a much less accented voice that Corizon couldn’t entirely place. “Looks like you went through hell out there … and from the reports.” The Dameon, who was still standing across from the two officers, didn’t bother hiding his surprise and lifted both ears in a quizzical expression. “You’ve read my report,” he questioned respectfully. “You’ll forgive me if I am not a little surprised.” Abronvonvich waived a hand and gestured for Corizon to have a seat. “It’s okay, he’s been brought up to speed by Command. They figured that he should have a decent idea of what was going on around here.” Shrugging in agreement, Corizon took a seat and steepled his fingers. “The Vorta took the device.” “When?” “Just a few minutes before I came over.” Abronvonvich and Calypsos sighed in unison. “You were right about that, then.” “I can’t exactly blame Lexin,” Corizon said thoughtfully. “He’d rather not anyone know about it, and by having it here, he most certainly increased the chances of anyone finding out about it… and our mission.” “That’s true,” Abronvonvich said, reaching for a carafe of water and pouring himself a glass before offering it Corizon. “No thanks,” Corizon said politely. “Honestly, no offense to either of you, but I’d prefer to get this over with as soon as possible. My crew’s getting pretty angsty to get off the ship, and I am sure your repair teams are dying to get to work on fixing us back up… they are fixing it, right?” Calypsos laughed and looked to the Admiral, who was also smirking. “Yes, Ah-Windu, Command has authorized a full repair and minor refit to Excalibur.” “Excellent. “ “As for the brevity of the debrief, however…” “I know…” Abronvonvich chuckled lowly. “They did say you were perceptive.” “Comes with the job experience.” “I suppose.” Calypsos smirked and glanced towards a PADD before pushing it over to Corizon. “The repair estimates from my engineers, based on what you guys sent us. I am sure they’ll want to revise it after meeting with your chief.” A sigh escaped Corizon as he looked over the information and either ear dropped to the sides in a sign of a small defeat. “A month?” “That’s correct,” Abronvonvich said, having read the same report. “At least a month. Calypsos has good people working for him – care of Captain Sorehl’s hard-work – but getting a new bridge module in from Alpha, and some of those other repairs will take time.” Corizon frowned. “Couldn’t we just ship out to Antares yards, or hell McKinley for the repairs? Wouldn’t it be quicker, than shipping the parts out here? Besides, what are you going to do with the crew during all this?” “I was about to get to that, Ah-Windu.” Corizon nodded. “Okay.” “Starfleet obviously hasn’t had a chance to fully go through your entire mission logs. We’ve had about a month to get through this all, and with everything happening, well you know how it is.” Opening his mouth to speak, Corizon stopped when the meaty hand of the Admiral shot up, knowing Corizon would have something to say to that. “At any rate, Starfleet is still going through the files. Frankly, as far as your mission goes, we consider it to be a success.” Now that surprised him. “A success?” “The Federation Council has no real vested interest in a stable Dominion, let alone one being run by the Founders – even if it is Odo. What’s that maxim … divide and rule?” “Something like that,” Corizon said, holding back a sigh. He hated when he was right. “The Council is adopting a wait-and-see approach to the whole situation; right now the Dominion has its hands full with the Hundred and about three dozen systems declaring independence.” Corizon nodded. “And then there’s the Scorpiad situation,” Abronvonvich said glumly. “I take it you read the file I sent you?” “Yes, Admiral.” “It’s a complicated situation,” Calypsos interjected. “My people have been working with the crews of the Saladin, the Cavendish and the people back at Starfleet Command, but we can’t find anything that leads directly to them.” “And this has to do with not doing the repairs at Command, why?” “Because your people have the most experience with Scorpiad technology.” Corizon frowned, knowing they were right. “So I am guessing my crew isn’t going to get a month long vacation while the repairs are being made?” Abronvonvich laughed. “You are certainly perceptive!” “It’s a curse.” “At least you’re not surprised,” Calypsos said with a warm, sympathetic smile. “Like Alexander said,” Abronvonvich said. “Your people have more experience in this than anyone else. We’re going to transfer most of your crew to the USS Union. Her crew’s due for a rotation, and her Captain’s stepping down anyway. The others will be assigned to Camelot and Avalon till Excalibur’s ready.” “So you’re handing me someone else’s toy till mines fixed?” “A month, and don’t scratch the paint.” Corizon found the idea rather amusing. “So what are you having us do?” “One of our scout ships came across something… something rather interesting that your people are going to retrieve for us.” “What is it?”

Corris Sprint looked over the report in his hand and considered its impact on how he would proceed for the rest of the week. Excalibur it seemed, was finally back within communications range and had sent the first packet of information since they’d left Ha’Vorante nearly nine months prior. He considered if he should send a long a message to Captain Corizon telling him how things had changed since he’d last spent any time on Camelot. Normally, he’d do such a thing without much thought, but given the nature of the changes, Sprint had to consider his actions carefully. In the past three months, many things had happened. The Al-Ucard/Eratian Rebellion had turned into a full-scale civil war with billions of lives teetering in the balance. Rumors circulated that the Scorpiads were behind the attacks that had devastated Al-Ucard and Eratian systems, though ‘Fleet was keeping a tight lid on whatever information they had. Meanwhile, the Dominion Situation was only scarcely better with three new world openly rejecting Dominion rule within the last week, while the Hundred continued to preach their message of being the only legitimate government of the Dominion. That, of course, only covered the changes in the political situation of the major powers based in the Gamma Quadrant. Camelot and the allied Alpha Quadrant powers had undergone a series of changes too. Camelot was no longer under the direct command of Admiral Day, who’d been the senior officer at the station since its inception. Starfleet had sent two command officers to replace him, the first, Captain Alexander Calypso, would run just the station, while the other, Vice-Admiral Misha Abronvonvich, would be supreme commander of the newly formed Starfleet Gamma Quadrant Command that would have oversight over all forces assigned to the Gamma Quadrant. Additionally, a number of Romulan forces were entirely withdrawn from the Quadrant, including the former senior Ambassador N’Kedre. Surprisingly, the Klingons, it seemed, were the most stable force in the Quadrant. Sprint wasn’t entirely sure what to think about either of his new commanding officers. Blair seemed a bit on edge, but then, he always was. Anyone who wasn’t Sorehl or Halloway seemed to make Blair nervous. The condition, Sprint had decided, was mild paranoia. Captain Calypsos seemed fairly even keeled, however, and had yet to make any sweeping changes that put him on alarm. The tall, thin, human had a solid record – Sprint had helped Blair find both men’s records – with a history of commanding stations, including one along the Federation-Tholian border. Abronvonvich, on the other hand, Sprint knew more by reputation alone. He’d been a hero of the Cardassian War, the first one, when he’d commanded a small task force that held off a larger number of Cardassian ships while a civilian colony was evacuated. Abronvonvich had only furthered his reputation during the Dominion War when he led a brilliant, if not ill-fated effort to extract a group of former Maquis rebels being held by Jem’Hadar troopers in the outliers of the Badlands. Sprint knew that Abronvonvich was a gallant soldier who’d been in the wars, but whether or not he was the right man to command a theater level tactical situation that could turn into a massive powder keg at any moment… It occurred to him that he’d given neither men the news that Excalibur had passed into communications range, mostly, because he wasn’t sure either knew of the highly sensitive mission Corizon and his crew had been on. That he even had to ask such a question was a major change. While he was more than confident in his ability to be the gatekeeper of sensitive information, it was an unusual role for him after the past several years. Tapping a coded sequence into his console, he sent a message, surreptitiously, to the former Captain Sorehl and to Commander Blair about the status of Excalibur and what message Corizon had sent along before coming Calypsos. “Captain,” Sprint said evenly. “Are you busy?” Calypsos took a few moments to respond, but finally did. “Is a station commander ever not busy,” he said playfully. “But you’re always a welcome distraction from three freighter captains all whining about our docking services…” “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Captain.” A mild concern filled Calypsos’ voice. “Oh, well then… I suppose you’d better come over… or should I come there.” Sprint glanced momentarily to his console before replying. “I think it would be better if I came to you in a secure location.” “Oh. Well, I’m in my office; that should suffice.” A few moments later, Sprint was standing in the office that had formerly been home to Day, Sorehl and Corizon. Calypsos had wasted no time in making himself at home, not that it had been hard, Sprint reminded himself – none of its prior occupants were exactly what anyone could call ‘big’ into decorating. “Captain,” Sprint said, delicately choosing his words. “How much do you know about the Excalibur and her mission.” He lifted his brow slightly. “That depends, Commander, how much do you know about Excalibur and her mission?” The response threw the normally even Sprint off guard. “Umm… “ he stammered before getting his feet, so to speak, under him. “I was fully briefed on the mission by Captain Corizon himself before they left and was given full clearance by Admiral Day for anything involving their mission.” Calypsos nodded. “Good, no one bothered to tell me that, but I am glad to know I have someone else who knows what’s going on. That look you have tells me you know more than I do…” Sprint nodded slowly. “I received an encoded transmission from Captain Corizon, Excalibur is back in communications range. They’ve completed their mission.” “That’s good news. I know there were some people who were beginning to get worried, it’s been a while since we’ve heard anything from the old dog.” “It’s not all good news.” “I had a feeling you were going to tell me that.” “I’ll spare you the long version of his report, but apparently they found whatever it was the Vorta had them looking for, but apparently it wasn’t exactly what Lexin had hoped for – the Founders aren’t looking to come home anytime soon.” The dark-haired Calypsos slumped into his chair. “Lovely.” “You sure you don’t want to go back to listening to listening to freighter captains, sir?” A small smile formed on Calypsos face. “Yeah,” he said begrudgingly. “Yeah, I am sure. I’ll send this on up to the Admiral.” Sprint nodded. “It will be good to have Captain Corizon back. I don’t know if you know much about him, or not.”

Lexin sat across the table, looking strangely at the Dameon. In all the time he'd known the Captain, he rarely seemed to unsure of himself. Uncertainty seemed to be contagious these days. Vorta were rarely uncertain, and apprehension was an emotion that Lexin had never felt in any of his prior lifetimes, at least not to the degree he currently felt. Breaking the silence of the dinner cum starring session, Lexin placed his utensil down on table and looked towards the yellow-eyed Captain. “Forgive me, Captain, but you seem rather... well if I didn't know better, uncertain about something. If I may, it's most unsettling.” Corizon glanced up. Had he been so caught up in everything that he'd been broadcasting his concerns so easily that Vorta had picked it up without even so much as scanning him? Forcing a smile he sighed slightly. “You could say that, yes.” “If you don't mind my asking, what has you unsettled?” “Oh, nothing, really.” He lied. Lexin glanced at the Captain with an all too typical Vorta glance that said he knew more than he was letting in on. “Really Captain, we've been having these dinners every week for almost ten months and I can't recall a time when you so openly seemed to be unsure of yourself, clearly it's not the day to day grind.” “If you people ever get tired of conquering innocent people and decide to join the Federation, I'll make sure to pick one of you up as a counselor, the Betazoids are cons compared to you.” Tipping his head slightly and batting his amethyst eyes for a moment, Lexin finally smiled. The Dameon's sense of humor still took a few moments to parse. “I'll take that as a compliment, coming from a psychologist.” Sensing an opportunity to steer the conversation away from anything but himself Corizon nodded. “You seem a bit unsure yourself,” he said. “Have you spoke with the Council yet?” “Yes,” Lexin said heavily. “I haven't told them everything... or anything really, yet.” “Why is that?” The Vorta tilted his head and glanced towards the Dameon for a long moment. Was it that he was actually interested in hearing what was troubling him, or was there an ulterior motive? Vorta were genetically predisposed to paranoia, he reminded himself, but when it came to the silver-haired canine, he'd learned it to be a rather helpful trait. “Tell me, Captain,” he said. “Did it bother you being assigned to this mission, saving the very empire that was the instrument for so much suffering in your Quadrant?” Corizon stifled a sigh. “To be honest? Yes.” Lexin's eyes widened slightly before he nodded, he hadn't expected him to be so... blunt. “That is to be expected, I suppose.” “It gnaws at me,” Corizon continued, looking into the glass he'd raised. “Your people, you came and you destroyed so much, took so many lives, all because of baseless paranoia.” Lexin nodded, letting the Captain continue. This was most the Dameon had ever really said about the subject, and it was clear he was in the mood to talk. “And what you did to me...” A sudden, inescapable feeling overcame the Vorta. Was that what some called, fear? Possibly. He suppressed it. “Ahm,” he said. “Me, personally?” Corizon put the glass down and looked at him for a moment. “No, but your people.” “I was captured during the war,” he said. “Tortured, subjected to experimentation to gain the knowledge that I held that eluded the Cardassians. Hooked up to one of those damned machines your people gave them...” The Vorta nodded. His people had never had what one would consider a conscience about their methods of gaining information, so long as it yielded results. “I would apologize, Captain...” “But you know I won't think it's anything more than an empty gesture?” Quietly, “yes.” “It's hard for someone like me,” Corizon said, “to forget all those things happened, to set them aside and try and help perpetuate the very thing that caused so much pain, terror and agony to the things I loved and to myself.” “I have to admit, there are few qualities I truly admire in your Federation,” Lexin said, his own eyes slightly vacant in thought. “Your capacity for forgiveness and compassion for the fallen foe is truly amazing. Perhaps... if the Founder's had that...” Corizon lifted an ear. Did Lexin just? He did.

Actually, most ships in the US navy do have slight variations, and aren't exactly the same as each other, and even within the same basic "class" you may have several different "sub-classes." It's plausible, that given the nature of Starfleet, the size of the Federation, and the wide-array of mission types that you'd have a number of very different Starship classes, especially given that some of them could come from, at that point, almost 100 years of Federation-standard design.

Welcome to the group!

Welcome to the group!

Excalibur will be running on Sunday May 24 as scheduled.