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Cptn Corizon
STSF GM-
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Posts posted by Cptn Corizon
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Corizon glanced at the response to his inquiry to Camelot Station with a frown.
“Full diplomatic courtesy,” he scoffed. “I suppose they’ll want me to feed them… what do Scorpiads eat anyway?”
Looking up from their stack of PADDs, both yeoman glanced to each other for a few long moments, unsure if the Captain wanted a response and if he did, how to respond. The spunkier of the two decided to try her hand – after all she had fed, on rare occasion, the orange thing that the green thing kept.
“Well insects I suppose... C’rk’ts maybe,” Odile said in heavily accented standard, before stopping to rub at her chin and twirl a lock of hair. “Though it would take a lot of c’rk’ts to feed something as big as those things.”
Corizon looked over in a bemused smirk, that Odile took to mean he was proud of her. Augustus giggled and glanced over. “I think they eat small lizards too.”
“Lizards are tasty,” Odile said, fondly remembering what passed for Xenexian BBQ.
“Maybe you can swap recipes with their cook.”
Odile flashed a sort of horrified look at the fanged Captain before regaining her composure. “Only if I can take Knife with me, they’re um… large and have… stingy things.”
“Stingy things?”
Odile nodded and nudged Augustus to back her up.
“Oh what am I going to do when they reassign you two.”
“I wouldn’t willing leave your side Captain,” Odile exclaimed proudly. “Really I wouldn’t.”
The silver-eyed half-Morian also nodded. “I prefer to stay as far out of my mother’s grasp as possible.”
Corizon snorted at both of them before looking at his chrono. “Well I need to be going, wouldn’t want to keep the Commandant waiting.”
----
The room was more humid than he'd expected, and it took him a few moments to adjust to that and the lower lighting. He recalled, briefly, the experience on the Scorpiad fighter with a myriad of feelings before stowing them away behind a neutral facade.
“Thank you for coming Captain,” G’Lan said. “I am sure this can’t be easy for you.”
“That is a mild understatement,” Corizon said honestly. “I am not someone who dances around a subject long.”
“Good, Scorpiads aren’t… very good dancers.”
“With all those legs, I am kind of surprised.”
The Scorpiad clicked out what sounded like laughter and waved Corizon into the sitting area with one of his claws. Still using his cane, Corizon made his way to one of the chairs, but didn’t sit.
“I’ve been in contact with my superiors,” Corizon said. “They’ve instructed me to show you full diplomatic courtesy.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Your people have been most helpful, and I must say, your guests have a wide-range of amenities at their disposal.”
“We try to be gracious hosts.”
“Well, so far you have lived up to that.”
“Speaking of which,” Corizon said with a heavy sigh. “Your… prisoners…”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been instructed to hold them for now, however, they will be treated as we treat our prisoners – properly fed and cared for in a manner consistent with our laws and regulations.”
“As you wish,” G’Lan said. “Though I will warn you Captain, they are not people to turn your back on, but you know that don’t you, Captain?”
The Dameon leaned on his cane and lifted an ear. “Hmm.”
“You’ve been marked by them – you were their prisoner once?”
It had been over three years since he’d been captured by Victria during the Morningstar’s first contact with the Al-Ucard, confused for a Lucam. The thought of being tethered to a wall by organic bindings sent a shiver down his back and it took him a few moments to push the memory back into his sub-conscious.
“Yes, but… how do you know that?”
The gold and black body of the Scorpiad glinted in the low light as he moved towards the window, and motioned towards a distant star. “Their technologies remained based on our own technology. The bindings that held you leave a specific marker that is detectable to… those of our making and our technology.”
“I see, well that was a long time ago.”
“I suppose for someone with a short life-time,” the Scorpiad said, thoughtfully. If he meant it as an insult it wasn’t apparent.
“Time is relative.”
“Yes, I suppose it is. It is a shame that our time together will be short, I know that you cannot be happy about this, but perhaps we can learn something of each other, yes?”
Corizon’s ears dropped to either side. It had occurred to him that, despite nearly three years of contact and a war, Starfleet and the Scorpiad had very little direct interaction that didn’t involve people shooting at each other. Part of him wanted to embrace the offer from G’Lan, afterall that was what Starfleet was here for, wasn’t it? But another, darker, part of him recoiled at the thought.
“Yes,” Corizon finally answered despite his internal conflictions. “Too much blood and not enough information has passed between our peoples.”
The Scorpiad clicked in agreement. “If it would be permissible, Captain, I would like to speak with my government and confirm with our liaison at Camelot when a suitable transport will be arriving.”
“Of course, I’ll have my operations officer set you up a secure link.”
“My thanks.”
“Oh, before I forget,” Corizon said, as if he would forget anything. “My government has asked me to gather some information from you about the… the prisoners.”
“Yes?”
“If you can, we’d like to know a little more about what charges are being brought against them and frankly what sort of due process measures are being followed.”
The Androcot Scorpiad compressed his body, allowing a hiss to escape. Corizon couldn’t tell if that meant he was annoyed, angry, or simply hesitant. The fact that his caudia and the stinger attached to it remained well out of strike position seemed to confirm the latter of the three.
Finally, after working his chelicerae for what seemed an eternity, the Scorpiad clicked up. “ They are terrorists Captain. They have been charged with various crimes ranging from conspiracy to commit murder to treason against the Imperial Crown of the Scorpiad Empire. “
“Ah, and the due process part?”
“We do not follow a strict… judicial procedure as you might understand it, Captain. They are members of the fourth rung. They have been charged and found guilty, sentencing is a mere formality, but will occur in due time.”
“The fourth rung?”
“Yes, the fourth rung. The highest rung in Scorpiad society open to non-Scorpiads.”
“I see, so somewhere above slave, but not so much that they have any real rights?”
“Yes,” G’Lan said with a wave of a hand like appendage. “Captain I know you don’t approve of any of this, it doesn’t take a telepath to read that in your … vibrations, but this is how our empire has survived for hundreds of thousands of years.”
Corizon didn’t respond verbally, but nodded.
“Captain they are like children who have lost their way, trying to rebel against their parents authority. We’re simply… bringing them to heel and reminding them that we are their creators and masters. We merely ask for their obedience, but yet they continue to defy us. Surely you can understand why we’re forced to be so… harsh?”
“Well, if my parents abandoned me for the better part of my existence and suddenly showed up, I might be a little wary of being put back under their… guidance.”
G’Lan reflexively recoiled, but avoided entering a threat pose only by sheer will. After a few moments he relaxed again. “Well, you weren’t lying when you said you were direct.”
“No one’s ever accused me of being diplomatic.”
“A quality I admire, to be honest myself.”
Corizon lifted an ear but let the comment pass. “Well Commandant, I won’t keep you any longer, I am sure your tired and will be wanting to speak to your government.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Perhaps we can meet again once I’ve had a chance to do that?”
“Sure, I’ll have my yeoman contact you to schedule it.”
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OOC Date June 13, 2010
IC Date June 12, 2385
Excalibur has received the transferred "cargo" from the damaged Scorpiad ship: an assortment of Al-Ucards and Eratians that are being detained as "terrorists". While medical examines the prisoner, Security sees to the comfort of the Scorpiad guests.
The Scorpiad ship explodes as a result of its damage, with Excalibur able to do little to stop it. Operations organizes a manner of tracking the Al-Ucard and Eratians in the event of a break-out, while Command looks for a solution to the mountain diplomatic crisis on its hands. Victria investigates the situation of her kinsmen, receiving an icy response before bringing her concerns to Corizon.
TBS: 4 hours
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TO: Ambassador Joy Seven; Ambassador t’Salik
FROM: Admiral Hirokie M’Snia, Starfleet Command
CC: Federation Diplomatic Corps; Vice-Admiral Misha Abronvonvich, Commanding Officer, SGQC;
RE: SCORPIAD FREIGHTER
I have enclosed a report forwarded to me from the Gamma Quadrant Command’s CO, it was filed by Captain Ah-Windu Corizon of the USS Excalibur. In brief synopsis, in the course of responding to a distress signal sent by a Scorpiad freighter, the Excalibur has inadvertently stumbled into a potential diplomatic crisis. The freighter’s engine systems were badly damaged and at the request of the vessels Commandant, Excalibur beamed her crew and cargo aboard. The cargo of eighteen Al-Ucard and Eratian prisoners are currently being held, per request of the Scorpiad Commandant, in Excaliburs brig.
Captain Corizon and Vice-Admiral Abronvonvich have inquired for direction in this matter. They also ask for your interpretation of options to avoid turning over the prisoners to the Scorpiads. Starfleet has contacted the Scorpiad embassy and I will forward you any response we receive.
Please advise.
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TO: Captain Ah-Windu Corizon, Commanding Officer, USS Excalibur
FROM: Vice-Admiral Misha Abronvonvich, Commanding Officer, SGQC
CC: Admiral Hirokie M’Snia, Starfleet Command
RE: SCORPIAD FREIGHTER
I have reviewed your preliminary report. My first instinct is to advise caution. I have sent your report along with this memo onto to Starfleet Command for further advisement given the sensitivity of the situation.
Please report back again with more information once you have met with the Scorpiad Commandant. Until such time as your orders are modified, you are to grant the Scorpiad delegation aboard your vessel full diplomatic courtesy. As to their prisoners, the Prime Directive is clear; we cannot intervene on their behalf simply because we disagree with the Scorpiads on what constitutes terrorism. You may, however, see to it that they are properly cared for while they are under your jurisdiction.
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OOC Date May 30, 2010
IC Date June 12, 2385
After dropping of the confiscated weapons to a Starfleet Intelligence report, Excalibur responded to a possible Scorpiad distress call. Upon arrival, Excalibur located a heavily damaged Scorpiad freighter. The freighter requested emergency beam out for their crew and living cargo. Captain Corizon agreed to this, beaming 18 Al-Ucard and Eratian prisoners aboard as well as six Scorpiads.
TBS: Seconds.
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USS Excalibur — The USS Excalibur sim is a post-DS9/Voyager era sim currently set in the Gamma Quadrant.Excalibur is set, specifically, in the Gamma Quadrant and currently in the year 2385. Condensing our primer, action on Excalibur centers around the sweeping political changes brought about by the end of the Dominion War. At current, the two major powers in the Gamma Quadrant, the Dominion and the Scorpiad Empire are facing internal challenges, while Federation, Romulan and Klingon vessels explore the quadrant from our base 120 LY from the wormhole, Camelot.
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The coffee had already gone cold. Corizon put it down and sighed. The last eight hours of his life had involved getting drug from one briefing to the next. Exasperated, and feeling more pain in his side and leg than he was willing to admit, he collapsed into the leather chair of his quarters and closed his eyes. Perhaps he’d gotten too used to being in command of a starship over the last year and a half. Perhaps he’d just gotten older, but in either case he’s forgotten exactly how taxing a major intergalactic crisis was from an administrative stand point and at the moment all he wanted to do was sleep. Instead, he know found himself facing a thousand different questions about what do when the other shoe fell, because the other shoe always fell – especially in this godforsaken quadrant.
Just as the white-haired Dameon captain had started to nod off into a restless slumber, his communicator chirped. The annoying, digitized sound forced him awake. Half-lucidly, he fumbled around until he found the gold and silver device that was the source of his annoyance. Mentally, he made yet another note to remind his crew that ‘didn’t hear the chime’ was not an acceptable excuse, ever.
Refocusing his thoughts and wondering just what the hell it was now, he attempted not to sound annoyed. “Corizon here.”
“The Admiral would like a moment with you,” Abronvonvich’s personal yeoman said in soft tone. “He wanted to know if you could come by or if he should make a house call?”
Like I am invalid all of a sudden. Sighing and deciding that it really would be better for him to be off his feet a while, he tried for a patient tone lacking indignation. “It really would be best for him to come by.”
“Of course. I’ll let the Admiral know, expect him shortly.”
“Thank you.”
A few minutes later, his door chimed. The two men glanced at each other, taking the other in. The Admiral’s wavy, white hair was mussed more than normal and his heavy set blue-eyes were wrapped in wrinkles and stress. All of the problems in the world seemed to be carried on his shoulders, yet they did not slouch or droop.
Abronvonvich leaned forward in chair opposite Corizon, examining him carefully. It was clear why the Captain was both feared and respected by his crew and by his enemies. The Dameon’s yellow orbs were as stern and severe as they were expressive. With one intense look, Abronvonvich was able to get a sense of the man’s feelings, thoughts, and desires. Corizon was a man driven by a sense of duty, and he carried that in his every expression and anything else that was there was just that – extra.
“Captain,” Abronvonvich said. “I know I told you that you could take your time in deciding what you wanted to do, but…”
“But?”
“There’s always a ‘but,’ it seems in these situations, doesn’t it?”
Corizon nodded with an expectant look.
“But I am afraid the situation won’t allow us that luxury.”
“Alright…”
“The Dominion has setup a blockade around Ganra Minor,” the Admiral said gravely. “Mostly, I think to scare the wits out of the locals and also to make it clear they’re not fooling around. Ostensibly they’ve said they’re doing it to prevent leaders of the rebellion from escaping ‘justice.’”
“So are they letting people out then?”
“From what we can tell no one has tried to run the blockade, that doesn’t mean they won’t the longer this goes on, but so far no. The Dominion has given the Federation assurances that they will not take lethal action against anyone, but will instead detain anyone trying to run the blockade until this is over with.”
“Lovely.”
“It’s a start,” Abronvonvich said pointedly. “Anyway the good news is that the locals have asked the Federation to mediate negotiations between them and the local Vorta Functionary.”
Corizon arched a brow and lifted an ear. “What did the Vorta say?”
“The Dominion,” the Admiral said with a slight, and to Corizon melodramatic, pause, “have agreed to allow mediation.”
Agape, Corizon ears stood up and his mouth opened and closed a few times. “That’s surprising.”
“To say the least. I am sure they’re up to something, but my people have a saying…”
“Don’t look a gift-pony in the mouth?”
“Something like that.”
“So where is this little ‘mediation’ happening?”
Nodding and producing a PADD, Abronvonvich leaned back into his own chair. “The Federation would have preferred a neutral site, preferably here on Avalon, but the Vorta Council was afraid that would, in their own words ‘draw more attention to this than they felt was required.’”
“They didn’t want caught looking soft.”
“Basically; so all parties have agreed to conduct the negotiations aboard a Federation starship in orbit of the planet.”
“So you’re sending Excalibur?”
“Yes, but the negotiations will not take place aboard her. I am sending the Excalibur, Cape Horn, and the Valorous as escort and support. The actual negotiations will occur aboard the Orpheus. I would have preferred to send a single ship, like the Columbia or the Roosevelt, but the window we have to work here isn’t long enough, and while the Excalibur is certainly capable of holding her own in one of these situations, the Captain of the Orpheus …”
Knowing that the Admiral was trying to dance around the fact that neither of the men who could be commanding the Excalibur were particularly suited to diplomacy, Corizon decided to save him the trouble. “He’s a fine man, besides the Norway’s were designed for just this sort of mission. Just why the heavy load out, then?”
“Well if things go badly, and this gets messy or if the Dominion is up to something, I’d rather not get caught with my shorts down and my people in the middle of it, either. The Dominion has already posted three battleships and two squadrons of attack ships to the blockade and the Klingons have spotted a few more ships.”
“Understandable. So the Excalibur is going to be baby-sitting and waving the flag?”
“More or less, and I know that’s not an ideal mission for you, but as much as I don’t want to push the issue, you’re going to have to make a decision sooner than later because if this does turn into a situation I am not going to up and pull Varen out of command. On top of that, if you don’t take Excalibur I need to go ahead and assign you.”
Corizon sighed. He knew this was coming.
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It was early – or late – on Camelot Station. On the command deck, Lieutenant Ai’anie Soltos wiped the watering at his eyes as he looked down at the status monitor. This was not good. No, not good at all. Exhaling, he silently wondered exactly why these sorts of things had to happen on his watch. Couldn’t the universe have waited another couple hours before falling apart?
Looking over to the diminutive Romulan officer who was helping him man the graveyard shift at operations he gave a worn smile. “Well,” he said. “I guess we should wake the brass up.”
The Romulan nodded. To him this was just another example of why the Alpha Quadrant powers, especially the Romulan Empire should have sealed up the wormhole years ago and left the Gamma Quadrant to its own devices.
Soltos sighed and brought up the communications protocols to wake the senior staff including the admiral, and the support staff required to get the round table room ready for what was sure to be an interesting meeting.
An hour later, the once sleepy command center was buzzing with the grousing of alpha shifters who’d been roused in the middle of the night to deal with the latest crisis in the Gamma Quadrant. Half a deck below, the Round Table room had also begun to fill with Camelot’s senior staff and the various commanding officers of the ships stationed at Camelot.
Sitting side by side, the stations commander glanced over a cup of rich, black coffee to the senior officer in the room. “I didn’t invite any of the diplomats,” he said between drinks. “I figured that could wait.”
Misha Abronvonvich nodded. His wavy white hair and craggy features seemed unusually comported compared to various states of dishevelment found on the other officers in the room. “I took the liberty of asking Corizon to show up.”
Calypsos smirked. “Well, I am sure he appreciated it.”
“Oh I think he did,” Abronvonvich said with a grin. “I mean, he has been anxious to get back into the swing of things.”
“At 0330?”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t unhappy about being woke up in the middle of the night.”
“I see.”
A few minutes later, the room had filled with all of the required individuals, including a cranky canine. Of course, as one of his colleagues noted, that wasn’t very different from normal – though he did carry a cane now.
Standing, the admiral placed his weight on the table and cleared his throat. “Good morning. I am sure you’re all wondering why you’ve been drug out of bed.”
The assembled officers nodded and looked towards the Vice-Admiral. He glanced around the table then continued. “About an hour ago we intercepted a communication broadcast on the Dominion network. It was broadcast in the clear, so we assume they wanted us to know about it.
“As many of you know, they have been dealing with some tensions on several of their worlds. On a number of planets, the native populations have been pushing for more autonomy or outright independence. Till now, things have been fairly civil. The Alpha Quadrant governments have encouraged the Vorta Council to show restraint and remain patient.
“So far, they’ve at least given the appearance of heeding our collective advice.”
Sighing and nodding to a yeoman to hand out PADDs to the officers in the room, he started again. “As I said about an hour ago we intercepted a communication on the Dominion network. Apparently talks with locals on one of their planets in our general area have broken down. I don’t have all the details yet, but apparently the locals began an armed insurrection. The Dominion has moved troops into the system. They’ve given the natives twenty-four standard hours to stand down or else…”
One of the officers in the room interrupted. “Or else what?”
Before Abronvonvich could respond, the unmistakable baritone Ah-Windu Corizon chimed in. “Or else they’ll do what the Dominion has been doing for centuries when this comes up. The Jem’Hadar come in, they shoot anything that blinks wrong, and then they install a puppet government run by a Vorta to keep things in-line. Or if they population is particularly troublesome, they just kill them all… or experiment on them or….”
A sharp look from the admiral got Corizon’s attention and he stopped there. Exhaling, Abronvonvich started again. “As much as I’d like to think the Vorta Council has realized that these aren’t the ‘good old days,’ Mister Corizon there is likely correct. The Dominion has never been very tolerant of disorder among their holdings, let alone an actual insurrection.”
“Admiral,” one of the other Captains said, “If that’s true, then these people know that right? They know the Dominion isn’t going to let them just secede. Why are they resorting to violence?”
“You’d have to ask them,” he said glibly, before softening slightly. “Intelligence and the diplomatic wing thinks that they’re hoping we’ll intervene, if not militarily, then politically on their behalf before this gets ugly – given our humanitarian mission and position on the subject of autonomy and sovereignty.”
“And will we?”
The normally stoic Admiral hardened. It was obvious that he didn’t like the response he was about to give. “No. Not directly anyway. The Federation Council and the Office of the President views this, as we view the Scorpiad/Al-Ucard/Eratian conflict, as an internal affair and that we are bidden by the prime directive to remain neutral. Officially we will be strongly urging the Dominion to resolve the situation with minimal loss of life.”
There was a pervasive silence in the room as the faces in the room stared blankly in response.
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Fluttering his eyes open, Ah-Windu Corizon quickly realized he did not know where exactly he was waking up. Though the inexorable pain he felt in his lower left quadrant did give him a clue. Batting his golden-eyes some more, he also realized that he could not see straight. He could, however, hear.
“Doctor,” he heard the voice of what he was fairly sure was a male nurse call. “The Captain is starting to come around. Heartbeat is normal, brain activity looks good.”
“Excellent.”
Corizon opened his mouth to ask the burning question of what the hell was going on, but his throat was dry and parched and the only sound that came out was a sort of gurgle one might associate with an infant. On the bright side, his vision seemed to be slowly coming back into focus.
“Captain,” a disembodied female voice said. “Can you hear me?”
He tried again in vain to respond orally, managing only a harsh ‘yeee’ before coughing and resigning himself to shaking his head.
“Good. Kane, get the Captain something to drink, I am sure he’s hoarse. Your vision should be returning soon, would you like to sit up?”
Sickbay it was, Corizon thought to himself. It could have been worse then, he could be waking up in the afterlife. He nodded and soon felt soft, gentle hands propping him up in his biobed. Later, he’d express displeasure at being so helpless, but at the moment he was rather content to be assisted.
“Ah, thank you Kane. Here you go Captain, this will help with that throat of yours. Your vision should be mostly back shortly too. It’s just an effect of being under sedation.”
He’d been sedated before, but the last time he woke like this, he’d been out on binge that would pale Klingon coming of age parties. Taking the cup offered to him, he also began to realize that the female voice was not coming from his chief medical officer, but that of a Deltan female. He also began to recognize that this wasn’t his sickbay, either.
Sipping the water, he felt the cold rush of the liquid against his arid throat. Nothing had tasted that good in years and he savored the moment before finally putting the cup down and look over to the Deltan doctor, who was busying herself at what he presumed was his status monitor.
“Thanks for the water, Doctor.”
She smiled and walked back over to her bedside with a hypo in hand. Pressing it against his neck, she released the contents into his blood stream. “There, that should help your vision a little. How’s the pain?”
“Manageable.”
She nodded and pressed another hypo to his neck. “According to your file, you have an exceedingly high tolerance for pain, but there’s no reason for you to have to display that.”
He managed a thank you and leaned back into the bio-bed, closing his eyes and exhaling. When he opened them again, he could see clearly again. Apparently he’d fallen asleep, rather annoying to be sure. Stretching his arms and wiggling his feet, he once again felt pain in his lower abdomen – though he knew it was muted by the pain killers he’d been given by the doctor.
After a few moments surveying the scene, he looked for the call the button on the bio-bed. Luckily, he didn’t even have to wait for the operator to send someone to attend to him, as he soon heard the footsteps of the lithe, graceful Deltan doctor approaching.
“Captain, good to see you awake – again. I am sure you’re wondering what the hell’s happened to you.”
Glancing over he nodded with a fanged grin. “That was a question on my mind, yes.”
“Well, if you haven’t figured it out, you’re on Camelot Station. I am Doct…”
“Ha’Jolka, right?”
She smiled. “Yes, good to see your memory hasn’t been affected.”
“I don’t forget much, Doctor; especially someone who handled my Chief Engineer’s injuries so well.”
Chuckling and looking at his status monitor she nodded. “Thank you, though Captain I am becoming rather concerned at the number of impalements that seem to occur to your crew.”
“Got to keep you doctors busy.”
“We stay busy enough.”
Corizon smiled and leaned back in the bio-bed again, though he wasn’t planning on nodding off again anytime soon – he had far too many questions to ask. For starters, where the hell was his crew? He figured at least one of them would be around when he woke up a second time. The sound of a second set of footsteps gave him hope on that particular front, until he heard Alexander Calypsos open his mouth.
“Ah-Windu,” the human male said brightly. “It’s good to see you awake. The doctor informed me that you were in pretty bad shape when you came in.”
“Yes,” she said. “You’d suffered some pretty severe internal injuries.”
“Getting impaled will do that,” he retorted drily. “I assume if I am waking up here that it was beyond what Excalibur’s medical staff was equipped to handle.”
Ha’Jolka nodded. “Yes. They handled the situation well though, kept you alive and made the right choice to put you in stasis till you got back.”
“How long have I been here?”
Calypsos pursed his lips and looked over at the doctor with a nod. “You’ve been here about three weeks, and you were under a total of about four. You’ll experience some muscle atrophy a first – once you’re able to get up and about again.”
Exhaling, Corizon put his head against the head rest on the bio-bed and looked over to the commanding officer of Camelot Station. “I am assuming that by the lack of any of my officers being here when I woke up, that you’re not here on a social call?”
Lifting his brows slightly, Alexander looked back to Corizon before glancing at the doctor again, “I see his bluntness hasn’t been dulled…”
“Just who I am …”
“Wouldn’t have you any other way.”
“So what is it you’ve got to tell me.”
“Excalibur’s out on a mission,” he said cautiously. “Under a new commander.”
Reflexively working his fingers as his claws extended, Corizon did his best not to growl or claw anything. “Son of a bitch… I am out for a few weeks and the…”
Alexander held up a hand. “He’s only keeping your seat warm, Ah-Windu. The Admiral wanted me to assure you that as soon as they’re back, he’s going to make sure they give her back to you.”
“He damned well better. Why isn’t he the one telling me this, anyway?”
Despite an urge to say what he really thought, Calypsos went with the more diplomatic reason. “He’s down on Avalon meeting with the Romulans about the second station we’re building near the wormhole terminus.”
“I see,” Corizon said flatly. “So when am I getting my ship back, hmm?”
“You really are blunt aren’t you?” Calypsos said with a chuckle. “No wonder you don’t get first contact missions very often.”
“Only when they want to ###### the aliens off.”
“I am sure. As for your ship, Excalibur’s actually on her way back to the barn. Now before you ask, I can’t tell you anything about their current mission just yet. Once you’re back on duty and cleared by command, I’ll have the full dossier sent down to you. It will give that annoying little Xenexian of yours something to do.”
“Odile?” Corizon said with lifted ear and brow. “Odile’s here?”
“Yes,” the doctor and captain said almost in unison.
“She’s been at your side basically since you came in Captain,” the doctor said. “We had to all but order her to sleep and eat.”
“I’ve got to say, you’ve got on hell of a yeoman in that one. I mean, I’ve had protective yeoman that mothered me, but she takes the cake.”
Corizon grinned and shook his head. “She tries.”
It was at that precise moment that all three of them looked over to the door to see the aforementioned Xenexian bounding into the room with three burly security guards in tow, all trying to keep up with her and one of them with a bloodied lip.
“Captain!” she said in what could only be described as a ‘squeel.’ “I am so so sorry I wasn’t here when you woke! They wouldn’t let me in – something about having to sleep or something silly like that. I told them I was fine, that we Xenexians are capable of going hours and hours without sleeping… but they wouldn’t listen… “
Doing his best to keep from bursting into laughter, Corizon smirked patiently at both the doctor and the captain before holding his hand up to Odile, who, at that point, was mid-babble about how she’d wished she’d gone ahead and taken medical training as well. “Yeoman,” he said, “While I am thrilled you’re here, I’d rather not have to come see you in the brig. Now just settle down and take a deep breath while the doctor, captain and I finish our conversation.”
“And on Xen… oh… um… sorry Captain I … I didn’t mean to uhm… right.” Slightly flushing, Odile nodded and made her way over to the small table and chair that had been set up for her by the medical staff a few weeks prior. Like a good little yeoman, she sat down and smiled happily, but only after sneering at the security officers who’d kept her from Corizon.
“As you were saying?
It had taken a herculean effort on the part of both the Deltan and human officers to not fall in the floor laughing at what had just transpired. Alexander fully planned on ribbing Corizon about this for the next several years, while the Deltan thought it was exceptionally cute that the gruff, rough, and enigmatic Corizon would be so tolerant of the clingy, if not well-intended, Xenexian.
Hiding his amusement about as well a Ferengi hid greed, Calypsos nodded. “Right, as I said once the doctor and command clears you, I’ll send you down some briefings and start getting you upto speed with everything that’s happened lately. Excalibur should be back in about a week or so, I was just on the line with Captain Varen a few hours ago…”
“Varen?”
“Yes, Irae Varen. He’s a good man, a little sober perhaps, but I am sure your crew is used to a demanding captain, yes?”
Odile, in the background, tried her hardest not to laugh at the notion of a ‘sober’ Captain on Excalibur, but kept her mouth shut. Corizon smirked as well, but for a different reason. “Oh, I am sure they’re fine. Hell, some of them were likely happy I was gone.”
“I doubt that, Captain.”
“We’ll soon find out, won’t we?”
-
Sorry....love my Trek...but B5 wins this hands down.B5 was a character driven show and basically owned. It is by far my favorite single sci-fi series. In my own little pipe-dream, I'd start a B5 sim, because I'd just love to play in that universe.
As for DS9 -- it's likely my favorite series of trek, especially after it got rolling. Seasons 4-7 are, imo, some of the best writing and character development in the entire franchise.
Glad to see you're enjoying your watch through A-9, but I am going to humbly say you're flat-wrong on Brooks. To me, he made Sisko the most compelling Captain of the franchise, especially once you hit the Dominion War and they began letting the character really be human.
-
Camelot Station was rarely quiet. The Alexandria-class station sat astride what was quickly becoming a major trade route linking the Alpha Quadrant powers to the vast riches of the Gamma Quadrant, and was positioned metaphorically between two ancient empires caught in moments of transition, one wrapped in rebellions, while the other’s government struggled to keep itself from falling apart. In a landscape of twilight, it remained a bright light in the heavens – a lighthouse for those seeking refuge from the approaching stormy night.
Watching out his office window as cargo ships intermingled with warships from four different races, Captain Alexander Calypsos considered just how little of the place he understood, even after nearly a year of running the station. He’d came to the Gamma Quadrant with few illusions about the difficulty of what Starfleet had asked him to do as the station’s commanding officer –it was a dangerous place, and it was a dangerous job. Yet, somehow, he’d found the danger and the challenge of keeping the station out of trouble to be, perhaps, the most exciting and rewarding assignment he’d ever been given.
It was a job filled with a constantly changing landscape. Today, for example, the Olympia was set to return from an extended first contact mission with a race of, from what he could make out from their reports, were sentient cobra-like humanoids, complete with ‘hoods’ and ‘fangs,’ though thankfully no one had gotten bitten. Meanwhile, there was a cargo convoy arriving from Deep Space 9 and ultimately destined for Karema VII. On top of that, a Nausican freighter had accidently collided with a Klingon transport and both Captains were threatening blood oaths on the other – something would have to be done about that, he supposed. Then there was the problem of a certain caninoid currently on the mend in his sickbay.
From what he’d heard, the aforementioned Dameon was resting comfortably, and sedated after several major surgeries. The problem, of course, was going to be when they woke said Dameon and explaining to him that his ship had been temporarily assigned a new commanding officer and sent off on a mission that could last several weeks to several months. It was an unenviable task that he felt more aptly fell on Vice-Admiral Abronvonvich, but apparently the perks of the command included delegating unenviable tasks to others.
“Captain,” called a voice over the loud speakers. “Doctor Ha’Jolka is here to see you.”
He exhaled. No time like the present, he supposed. “Send her in.”
Turning to face the doors that led to command and control via a ramp, he smiled as the doors swooshed open and the cheery face of his chief medical officer filled the doorway. The Deltan walked with an easy grace as she entered more fully into the room. It occurred to Alexander that under different circumstances, he might ask her for a drink, or for dinner, or both, but he knew that such attachments were dangerous and he shoved the thoughts of spending time with Kael deep in the recesses of his mind.
“How’s everything down your way, Kael?”
She smiled and took a seat across from him. “The usual,” she said with easy patience. “The new round of marines we got last week all found out the hard way that we put warning labels on certain alien foods for a reason. A freighter from Molach III came in with eight sick-patients, all thinking they were dying.”
“Were they?”
Kael grinned slyly. “Well everyone’s dying, Captain.”
Alexander leaned back into his chair and chuckled. “That’s not a morbid way to look at life at all.”
“Humans,” she said smiling. “Your race would be the first to sign up for an immortality potion, wouldn’t you?”
“Most would, don’t know about myself.”
Before that particular philosophical conversation could maturate any further in his head – he was many things, but none of his friends or colleagues would ever accuse him of being a blowhard philosopher, he decided to move on. “How about Captain Corizon?”
Kael Ha’Jolka let her face drop for a moment before exhaling. “Doing better,” she finally said. “He suffered some pretty traumatic injuries – lacerated liver and kidneys, slight damage to his second heart, you don’t even want to know what we had to go through to replace his pancreatic system, not to mention getting enough of his blood type for transfusions…”
Alexander held up a gentle hand. “I… skimmed… the report…”
Relaxing with a small chuckle she nodded in understanding – few, if any, commanders cared for the gory details of medical and even fewer wanted to hear in-depth about any one particular case. “He’s recuperated to the point we’re ready to wake him, and if we don’t, I think his yeoman might just go crazy.”
“That little Xenexian thing that’s been bothering me since he got in.”
“Yes, the little Xenexian thing that’s been bothering me since he got in.”
Alexander smiled. “I suppose she would be more of a bother to you…”
“You have absolutely no idea.”
“Well, when do you want to wake the sleeping dog? I should be there when you do.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, the Admiral, in his infinite command wisdom has decided he wants me to be the one to fill in some of the gaps, with you by my side, of course.”
You could almost feel the sarcasm oozing out of the Deltan’s words. “Lovely.”
As he was about to open his mouth to respond, another chime interrupted him and he apologetically held up a hand. “Go ahead.”
“Captain,” came the voice of Corris Sprint, the stations’ chief operations officer. “I have a call for you.”
“Well, put it through.”
There was a clear hesitation in Corris’ voice and both the Deltan and the human exchanged curious glances in response. “Perhaps… Captain you should take this alone.”
Alexander lifted his brows further. In the six-months or so that he’d known the operations officer, he’d never found him to be presumptive without a really good reason, and that worried him. “I see. Just a moment.”
She’d been in Starfleet for nearly seventeen years herself, and the Deltan doctor knew when it was time to make a graceful exit without having to be told. Already halfway to the door, she turned to nod at the Captain as she exited.
“Alright,” he finally said. “I am alone, now what is it?”
“Sorry to be so… presumptive, Captain, but I have Captain Varen on a secure line. He says its matter of Federation Security.”
How a mapping mission could turn into a matter of Federation security, Alexander wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know, but his instincts told him that a man as somber, sober, and serious as Irae Varen wouldn’t do this on a whim.
“Very well, put him through...”
A few short moments later and the wall panel adjacent to his desk came to life with a spinning Starfleet chevron as his console prompted him for security clearance. That detail completed, Varen’s face filled the screen.
“Captain…”
-
Taenix ran her hands along the monolithic device that inhabited a small, out of the way cargo bay in the floating station that served as the central nexus of the Dominion. Never in her twelve lifetimes could she call a single object that caused her such deep, divisive emotions. The device, which she understood the Alpha Quadrant aliens called ‘the Holy Grail,’ was supposed to bring salvation for her people and the entire Dominion. Instead it brought the chance of chaos. Instead of bringing her closer to the gods, it stood to tear her and the rest of the Vorta further from the intoxicating wisdom of the Founders.
Her thoughts and her beliefs were beyond conflicted. Every genetically engrained value found itself fighting against a torrent of emotions, like capsized sailors fighting against the cruel, cold ocean. For twelve life-times she had served the Founders, her creators with every fiber of her being. She, above all others of her gene-set, had been chosen to be savior of the Dominion when the Scorpiads returned. Now she was being asked to take the device to the Hundred so that the last of the Founders could be included in the Glorious Isolation.
Glorious Isolation. The very phrase left an acrid taste in her mouth. She had still been in isolation when Odo, one of the Hundred himself, had taken over the Great Link after the Alpha Quadrant War. When she’d been awaken, even the Vorta did not know how deep of an isolation Odo had taken the Link into, in order to ‘heal them.’ But why would the God need to be healed?
She exhaled and turned from the device and peered into the darkness of the cargo bay. True she knew more than most Vorta about their own origins, and true she knew that Founders were just as mortal as any other creature, but that didn’t stop her from thinking of them as her gods. Perhaps it was that faith, she considered, that had always set their own beliefs apart from lesser races. Other races had faith in Gods that were immortal, gods that clearly did not exist, but the Vorta’s gods were mortal, they existed.
Before her long slumber in stasis, Taenix had been as she was today – one of the leading Vorta of her generation. She had always worked closely with the Founders to rule their empire. When she’d awaken she’d expected to be greeted by the female Founder. Instead, she’d seen the face of Weyoun. Weyoun told her much, told her of the Isolation that Odo had ordered for the Link. It bothered her, but she trusted, she believed in the wisdom of the Founders. With that belief in her heart, she pressed on and did that which she had been entrusted by the Founders to do – beat the Scorpiad Empire. It had not been the cleanest of victories, but she had delivered a victory; however, in the heat of the battle, when the Dominion was nearly ready to fall she had defied the will of the Founders and sent a small force to seek the Founders in isolation. When that force arrived they did not find the Founders, instead they found the planet abandoned. Alone, confused, and for the first time in twelve lives, questioning the Gods she forged an alliance with the Alpha Quadrant forces. She would risk everything and divert their forces to assist in retaking the wormhole from the Scorpiads, and in exchange the Alpha Quadrant forces would help find the Founders.
She turned and looked back at the monolithic machine that glowed in deep purple hues. The device had long been rumored to exist. It was said to have been used by the Founders to contact each other during the Diaspora after the Scorpiads destroyed their first homeworld so many years ago. Then it was used by the first of the Vorta to stay in contact. It was thought, however, to have been lost to darkness of the universe, but the Excalibur and her crew found it. When the news came, she’d been filled with a sense of relief, a sense that everything would work out.
The truth though was far different. Odo wanted the Vorta to take the device to the Founders so that he could commune with Elai and the other Hundred and convince them to join the others. If they did this, the Hundred would know, as she knew, that the Vorta Council no longer had the wisdom of the Founders and the Dominion was now being run by the servants, not the masters. If word of this came out, the effects would be disastrous. Whole worlds that had long been protected, controlled, ordered by the Dominion now rattled their chains and yearned for freedom. If they saw any weakness in the Vorta, they would rebel, and she knew there would be weakness, her heart told her.
The Vorta had been blessed with living gods, but now those gods were abandoning them. For the first time in the collective memories of her people, they would be questioning their gods. Like the Jem’Hadar, they had been genetically engineered to be dependent, not on the white, but on the wisdom of the gods.
She paused and pressed a hand to the device, feeling the cold, metallic casing and the pulsing vibrations of the internal power source. She could destroy it, and no one but Lexin, Weyoun and Keevan would be the wiser, but then she would betraying her gods, and even though they had betrayed her, she could not bring herself to that, not yet anyway. On the other hand, Odo hadn’t specified how quickly she was to deliver the device to the Hundred and Elai.
-
The great expanses of sand and dirt of the plains of the Scorpiad homeworld, Arcahanis, rippled and shifted as harsh, hot winds strode across the surface. The giant creatures that inhabited the harsh, ruddy world buried deep beneath the surface of the plains to avoid the scorching heat and deadly radiation of the three stars that filled the sky with blindly light. Ancient and hidden from the world, the great cities of the Emri stretched for miles in carved out tunnels and caverns. At the heart of the empire they had built over hundreds of thousands of years stood the ancient spire of the imperial palace, like a massive stalagmite rising from the surface nearly to the ceiling. Few outsiders had ever seen the monolithic structure, and of those who did, far fewer had lived to recall it.
“Your excellence,” adjutant Hkjj’nakgn said with a slight bow as he approached the throne of the Scorpiad empress. “I have the report you requested.”
The empress lifted her bulk from the great ‘throne’ of brilliant stone carved into the floor and focused all of her eyes upon the diminutive Androcot before her. “Very well,” she clicked, soberly.
“General N’Kkrritt reports progress in re-establishing focal points in the Talkon and Amateri system that he believes will allow him to deliver deadly blows to the Al-Ucard…”
“And General Kadn’kkein?”
“Reports that efforts to eliminate Eratian hive worlds is proceeding slowly,” Hkjj’nakgn said, making sure to keep out of the reach of Empress’s claws or stinger. “He requests more vessels to accomplish his task…”
“Tell the general that we cannot commit ourselves any further than we already have…”
“You think that wise, sister?”
The Empress focused three of her eyes in the general direction of the voice. The dark visage of her brood-brother Prince Naghk’in filled her with a silent loathing and her body compressed, releasing an eerie hiss.
“Prince Naghk’in,” she said tersely. “Had I desired your counsel, I would have sought it…”
Bowing slightly and making a gesture of submission, Naghk’in assumed a position near Hkjj’nakgn. “I meant no offense, your eminence,” he responded. “Simply offering caution.”
She hadn’t been the first female Scorpiad to rule the empire in over thirty cycles by being blind and deaf to valid counsel. “Very well, but I do not see an alternative. You know, better than most, that we cannot risk our fleet until we have gained control of a resource that will allow us to cultivate new warships.”
“This is true, but on the other hand, eminence, if we hold back at this crucial juncture, there may not be a reason for us to grow new ships.”
A long silence engulfed the throne room. The Empress had considered that, and her advisors had been so far torn as to what was the equilibrium point they could sustain for any period of time.
“Hkjj’nakgn, finish your report.”
Having stood silent, like he’d been trained to do with Royal Emri engaged each other in dialog, Hkjj’nakgn stepped forward again. “General N’Kkrritt believes that we are a turning point in the rebellion. It is his opinion that a massive offensive could crush both Rebellions, and advises that if we continue to use, in his words ‘half-measures’ that the Al-Ucard and Eratian rebellions will only continue to grow and strength. He also reminds her eminence that while our forces are finite, the Al-Ucard and the Eratians have access to far more resources, despite our technological advances.”
“And the report from Counselor Han’ji’to-kon?”
“You gather counsel from the Lepterus for war?”
The Empress cast a dangerous glance towards her brother and gestured for her adjutant to continue.
“The Counselor advises caution, as before. He is concerned that we are needlessly over extending ourselves in the name of pride and reminds her eminence that the core sectors of the Empire remain untouched.”
“And what would he have me do?”
“He suggests a dialog with the rebels, perhaps even acceding to their requests for autonomy.”
“Heresy!” Naghk’in bellowed between a body cavity hiss. “You cannot possibly accept such a suggestion, Aeiiik’Jghgkk!”
Focusing all eight of her eyes upon her brother, she fell to the ground on six of her legs and rose compressed her body, raising her claws and caudia into a threat pose. “I am Empress of the Scorpiad, I am your elder and your ruler. Unless you are challenging my throne, I suggest you not take such a tone with me, Naghk’in-ta’ln.”
Once more submitting to her dominance, Naghk’in fell to six legs and lowered his own caudia in a curled pose. “Forgive me, Empress, I did not mean to challenge your authority.”
Relaxing her threat pose, the Empress stood back on four of her eight legs. “I will consider both sides. Hkjj’nakgn, inform the Generals N’Kkrritt and Kadn’kkein to continue with their current orders.”
-
Mission Brief: Corizon's team just found a boat-load of torpedoes that have been prepped with weaponized parasite eggs, Vic.Mark just found the facility. Things are going swimmingly on the ship.
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The Excalibur Command Staff is pleased to announce that the 2009 Awards will be given on January 3, 2010.
Awards will be given in the following categories:
Excalibur Starburst of Excellence:
Awarded yearly to the simmer who most exemplifies the Excalibur mission; contributing logs, attendance, and overall excellence in play. To be selected by the command team.
Crispin Xavier Stamina Medal:
Awarded yearly to the player with the best overall attendance, and named in honor of former player Crispin
Xavier. Awarded by the command team.
Captain’s Quill and PADD Award:
Awarded yearly for the best log, or best series of logs; given by Captain Ah-Windu Corizon.
Meritorious Achievement Award:
Awarded to the simmers for excellence in log writing. To be selected by the command team.
Service Stripe:
Awarded to the simmers for every 25 sims attended.
Special Awards
Order of the Round Table:
Awarded to those players who have shown exceptional dedication to the USS Excalibur sim. Can only be awarded once.
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The USS Excalibur will be simming both the 27th and 3rd, though absences are excused.
Have a Happy Holiday and a Wonderful New Year! :blink:
-
MISSION BRIEF: The Excalibur's milk run continues to go awry, to put it mildly. On board the ship, things have taken a turn for the interesting as an individual named Ferad was encountered by the Engineering AT (!), after tossing off some witty one-liners, the group attacked/was attacked by Ferad's monsterous body guards, which left the team in various states of critical condition. On the bridge the other team (@) worked on the computers that had started coming to life, but still not lucky bringing main systems on-line. On the planet, Corizon's team has been seperated into a group led my Garrison and tracking along a swamp path (#), while Corizon leads the remaining members towards a mine path that they hope will link them with the main group. Corizon, last we saw, was finding off a large group of villagers while his team made a mad (and also injured dash) towards the mine entrance.
-
48 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Alahn Esmund, Lead Researcher
A most interesting occurrence today at the facility, Doctor t’Asharin called me into the medical lab to look at something she’d extracted from one of the colonists who’d been coughing up blood and complaining of headaches.
I have to say, I don’t think I’d seen anything quite like it before. It was most unusual. I asked her to a full examination and send me the report.
46 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Fva t’Asharin, Chief Medical Officer/Bio-organic’s Lead
I completed my exanimation of the specimen we removed from the colonist. Very unusual, indeed. I searched through the Empire’s records as well as those that the Federation have given us access too for our primary research and haven’t found anything like it.
It appears to be a parasitic life form with a strong weakness to ultra-violet radiation. Doctor Esmund has taken a particular interest to it. I am concerned about the vector. If this is a parasitic life form, there could be a possible outbreak among the colonists, or even here on the research complex as we share water supplies.
I have asked for the colony leaders to meet with the Doctor and myself, early tomorrow morning.
44 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Thomas Sinsaide, Assistant Medical Officer/Assistant Biochemical Researcher
We’ve now treated two dozen miners with the same symptoms: coughing, headaches, sleepless nights. Doctor t’Asharin has found parasitic material in all most all of them. Like her, I am very concerned, but so far we haven’t found anything connecting them except for the mine.
43 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Fva t’Asharin, Chief Medical Officer/Bio-organic’s Lead
After our thrity-third miner to have a small parasitic organism growing inside him, Chief Ramekin finally agreed to shut down the mines and let our researchers in. Alahn and his assistant, Ferad, are leading a hazmat team down later today to have a look.
41 Days Ago
Personal Log: Doctor Ferad Tagin, Assistant Researcher
We’ve spent the last three days in the mines scouring them for any traces of possible vectors for the parasite. Dr. Esmund has been very thorough, though our diligence has yet to yield results.
39 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Thomas Sinsaide, Assistant Medical Officer/Assistant Biochemical Researcher
More colonists reporting similar symptoms, we’ve yet to identify where they’ve picked up the parasite.
37 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Fva t’Asharin, Chief Medical Officer/Bio-organic’s Lead
Alahn has had almost the entire staff of Federation and Romulan scientests in the mines for almost a week. I am beginning to wonder about Alahn, if he’s driving himself to hard. The colonists are understandably scared, and we have nearly fifty of them in a make shift med-ward we made out of the mess hall.
We have developed a procedure to remove the parasite from the host body, but so far we’ve been lucky enough to catch them all relatively early in what I believe is the growth stage.
36 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Thomas Sinsaide, Assistant Medical Officer/Assistant Biochemical Researcher
It was a bad day. We had another one of the colonists come in – apparently he’d been avoiding us – but his family drug him in. The parasite growth stage was far more advanced than we’d seen in anyone. We tried to remove it, but it had wrapped tendrils around the spinal cord. We lost the patient during the procedure.
35 Days Ago
Personal Log: Doctor Ferad Tagin, Assistant Researcher
The mood was decidedly tense today in the mines. We believe we’ve uncovered what appears to be fossil remains of the parasites that had been unearthed. Dr. Esmund has us taking samples.
34 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Alahn Esmund, Lead Researcher
I have to admit the parasite is a truly remarkable creature. I’ve asked the doctor to take a live sample if possible so we can further study it. I would like to know more about their life-cycle so we can better find out which of the colonists is infected.
34 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Fva t’Asharin, Chief Medical Officer/Bio-organic’s Lead
Alahn’s team seems to have found the source of the parasitic infection – long dormant eggs in the mine dust. I’ve begun working on ways to indentify the parasite in individuals and we’re working with Chief Ramekin to isolate all of the miners and their families. Hopefully we’ve gotten this undercontrol. I suggested to Alahn that he send to Starfleet for help.
33 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Fva t’Asharin, Chief Medical Officer/Bio-organic’s Lead
I am growing concerned about Alahn. He was very pale today when we met to discuss our efforts to start screening those in isolation. He seemed distracted. On the other hand, we are making progress at screenings, we detected two cases where the parasitic egg was ready to hatch.
32 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Alahn Esmund, Lead Researcher
The parasite is an amazing creature. Its resilience, adaptability and evolutionary advantages are like nothing I’ve seen before. My modeling suggests that each individual parasite contains the entire genetic memory of every parasite born before it, but that they also have some sort of hive mentality. I can… feel the others.
31 Days Ago
Personal Log: Doctor Ferad Tagin, Assistant Researcher
Something most unusual happened while I was in the lab working with Doctor Esmund, today. I noticed he’d been pale and bloodshot in the eyes lately. I figured with everything going on, he’d not been sleeping.
He seemed distant during out meeting with t’Asharin. When we got the lab, the Scorpiad technology did something we’d never seen before. It… it reacted to his mere presence. The small orb-device extended a tendril and grabbed his arm for a brief moment before recoiling. It was… bizarre.
31 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Fva t’Asharin, Chief Medical Officer/Bio-organic’s Lead
More concerned than ever with Alahn. I spoke with some of the other Romulans and they agreed that he’s been off-kilter even for a human. Not sure what we should do.
31 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Alahn Esmund, Lead Researcher
I am growing concerned about the Romulans. Their copper based physiology might not be compatible. We might have to do something about this.
29 Days Ago
Personal Log: Doctor Ferad Tagin, Assistant Researcher
We’ve begun making progress reintroducing the specimen to colonists, Chief Ramekin has been exceptionally useful in this regard. Lord Esmund’s initial findings proved to be even more accurate than we’d imagined, the parasite does exert control over the host, and they do have a collective hive mind but there also seems to be a difference in each parasite-host relation, as if the host’s personality imprints on the new parasite-host personality.
28 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Fva t’Asharin, Chief Medical Officer/Bio-organic’s Lead
This will be my last entry. I am the last one. The only one not corrupted by that… that thing inside Alahn. I should have seen it coming, should have done something about it, but I didn’t. I’ve left all my notes on the implantation hidde… <entry deleted>
24 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Thomas Sinsaide, Assistant Medical Officer/Assistant Biochemical Researcher
It was shame about the Romulans, but Lord Esmund was right, we couldn’t afford to lose our brethren in them.
Our research into cross-breeding the parasite larve with other species is coming along nicely. It’s incredible how malleable the DNA is and how easily cross-bred with reptile, insectoid and various alien DNA it’s proven. We did find something very interesting while matching it up with the Scorpiad DNA…
22 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Alahn Esmund, Lead Researcher
I’ve decided to take the Romulan’s suggestion and ask for assistance from the Federation, we are, afterall in need of some supplies…
20 Days Ago
Personal Log: Dr. Alahn Esmund, Lead Researcher
I just received wonderful news. It seems Chief Ramekin had already request a supply drop off and that we were on the schedule. We have much to do to prepare for their visit to our fine community.
-
MISSION BRIEF: The Excalibur's milk run continues to go awry, to put it mildly. On board the ship, things have taken a turn for the interesting as an individual named Ferad was encountered by the Engineering AT (!), after tossing off some witty one-liners, the group attacked/was attacked by Ferad's monsterous body guards, which left the team in various states of critical condition. On the bridge the other team (@) worked on the computers that had started coming to life, but still not lucky bringing main systems on-line. On the planet, Corizon's team has been seperated into a group led my Garrison and tracking along a swamp path (#), while Corizon leads the remaining members towards a mine path that they hope will link them with the main group. Corizon, last we saw, was finding off a large group of villagers while his team made a mad (and also injured dash) towards the mine entrance.
-
-
Rain had started to fall on the grounds of Espania VI. The village’s simple dirt streets had quickly turned to mud and as he walked up the stairs to the large plantation house located just within site of a large orchard, he made an effort to keep the soft, purple velvet of his robe from swinging against the brown muck beneath his feet.
As he made his way up the stairs, using an oddly shaped staff for support, he considered how well everything had gone – considering. At the door he was met with by a figure whom to anyone else he was sure would be frightening – the tall, towering figure of Chief Ramekin.
Ramekin towered over most men, and the cloaked figure was no exception. His dark, bristled beard and deep, penetrating blue eyes added to the overall effect. If nothing else, he made an excellent enforcer.
“Chief Ramekin,” the cloaked figure said in a not quiet place-able accent, but one that stood out clearly from the other in habitants of the village. “I take it all is going well?”
The towering, bristled Ramekin nodded and ushered the cloaked figure inside, “Yes, Lord.”
“Good, good. I did not expect our guests to cause any trouble you can’t handle.”
At that moment there was a crackling sound that rippled out across the entire orchard. They both glanced towards the sound and the bridge.
“I do hope the good Captain wasn’t injured.”
“And if he was?”
“I shall be very disappointed. I will get over it though.”
“Should we let them get to the facility?”
The cloaked figure frowned. “I’d prefer that not to happen. Ideally we capture Corizon alive…”
“And the other… intruders… “
For a moment the cloaked figure stopped as they walked into the house, as if thinking. “They are of no use too me.”
Ramekin nodded as they sat down at a desk in a small study opposite a small screen that displayed static. Taking a small control pad out from under his robes, the cloaked man typed a code in and the static slowly cleared into a picture of a pale man in his mid-twenties.
“Ferad,” the cloaked man said. “I assume all is going well aboard the vessel.”
Ferad chuckled eerily, his face clearly only lit by the screen. “We’ve ran into some resistence, but nothing my pets can’t handle. “
“How are you progressing?”
“Their encryption codes are not too difficult, but main power is still eluding us for the moment, as is systems control.”
“Good… good….”
-
MISSION BRIEF: The AT walked into a lovely little party at the Village and just heard a chain saw. Excalibur is still not up and running and have some sort of insectoid-man things infesting the ship.
in USS Excalibur Briefings & Logs
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TO: Vice-Admiral Misha Abronvonvich, Commanding Officer, SGQC
FROM: Captain Ah-Windu Corizon, Commanding Officer, USS Excalibur
RE: Scorpiad Fighter
I have met with the Scorpiad commanding officer. Had a surprisingly cordial meeting, to be entirely honest. Informed him that I would be treating the Al-Ucard and Eratian subjects with our standards. He has since informed me that one of his vessels will be arriving within three days to collect his crew and prisoners. Please advise as to orders concerning this.