Cptn Corizon

The difficulty of this is that I tend to choose the name per the ship type.

 

I am not going to choose USS Heracles for a Nova class surveyor nor will I recommend USS Sally Ride for a Prometheus class battle-cruiser.

 

As for my recomendations:

USS Cooper - (Gordo Cooper, Mercury astronaut)

 

For more navy-esque names I prefer the Brits for their class:

USS Repulse

USS Renown

USS Resolution

USS Ardent

USS Adamant

...it could go on and on

 

 

I also like the Brit names, so much so that we got to see the USS Ardent as a ship commanded by myself for a plot on Excalibur not long ago... Defiant-class as I recall.

It took almost an hour after he looked at report from his first officer before he could even speak without growling. It took at least another hour before he could touch anything without throwing it against the bulkhead. To say that Captain Ah-Windu Corizon was upset would be putting it mildly.

 

How… how these things kept happening was beyond him. If he were a character in a novel, he’d seriously want to kill whoever was authoring it, because seriously enough was enough. Not only had primitive people managed to steal a baby from him, but a Pakled (which, to paraphrase his XO, what the hell was that doing here?) had somehow managed to stow away completely undetected aboard the ship and report for duty in a Starfleet uniform. Just who the hell was running security these days?

 

Deep calming breaths. Deep. Calming breaths. Two hours later, Corizon finally had calmed himself enough to type up a response to the Caitain to the effect of “Just who the hell was running security these days?” A few moments later, he got a similar response from the Caitain.

 

A few feet away, having heard what happened to his quarters, his yeoman was rather pleased/proud/relieved that he’d managed to not repeat the ‘incident’ with his ready room. “Perhaps,” she said crossing the room and picking up a PADD from his desk, “you should go relax in a holodeck… claw something…err”

 

She paused unsure about that last remark; his momentary smile caused a sigh of relief.

 

“Perhaps,” he said with a heavy sigh of his own. “I swear, I barely get one crisis under control when another props up…”

 

Odile cocked her head to one side. "You shouldn't bottle things up as much," she added, trying not to be obvious that she knew about the Quarters Incident. "You really should find a good outlet for your aggressions.

 

“At least you can take solace that the brat’s still green…one of my friends in medical said that they don’t think it will be back to normal for at least a month.”

 

“I heard there’s a pool going…”

 

Innocently, Odile batted her eyes, which suited her as well as stand-up comedy does for a Vulcan. “I hadn’t heard that…”

 

“Six weeks… and a bottle of 2358 Tarkarin Ale…”

 

Feigning ignorance, Odile again smiled. “Hmm?”

 

Corizon snorted, especially when Odile quickly jotted a note down on a PADD. “I just wish…I wish I didn’t have to tell the Satarimi that we don’t have the Crownstone..”

 

She frowned darkly, the scowl surprisingly hostile. "I can't believe we lost three men for that... baby." The word "baby" was clearly on the level of some fouler insults she had buzzing about her head.

 

He sighed again, “Oh, I’d like to blame them. I really would…”

 

“But?”

 

“Victria’s right… it’s not their fault. Sure I can say that the kid shouldn’t have been unattended in sickbay all I want. I can yell, scream and claw people over it…”

 

The mental image thrilled Odile, but she had the presence of mind to hide it with a well placed nod. Though she’d not come out and say it, she was rather concerned for Corizon, and a weensy bit protective. “I’m sure they’ll understand…they have children after all, right?”

 

“Oh I don’t think they’ll be angry with us…”

 

“They’d better not be,” she said, slightly terser than she’d intended. “...I mean…”

 

A small smile creped through the gloom on Corizon’s face; he had to admit, he’d not really been thrilled at the idea of having a full-time Yeoman, but at least they stuck him with a good one. Unlike some people, he rather appreciated the unique perspective Xenexians brought to the table.

 

Odile took another stack of PADD’s from his desk and placed them on the cart to carry down to her own workspace to finish. “I wasn’t joking Captain,” she said. “You really should go relax or something… I can handle all this paper work for you…”

 

He smiled. “I will, but I need to finish this report first, and then meet with the Commander to decide what we’re doing with Security and that… that Pakled.”

 

“Then you’re going to rest?” It really wasn’t a question. "You should replicate Xenex. It's not the best representation..." Her nose wrinkled slightly. "It looks more like the Sahara than the Pit... but it's good for... stress relief."

 

“Yes, I am going to spend the next week ‘off duty.’’

 

“Oh good! It’s about time!” Odile didn’t mean to sound so happy and then instantly flushed. “I mean… I didn’t mean… you know…”

 

“Yes,” he chuckled. “I know what you meant… you just want me out of my office so you can raid the booze supply.”

 

Odile somehow managed to flush an even darker shade. “I… I…”

Name: Kale Winfield “Tug” Johnson

 

Age: 44

Sex: Male

POB: Taki IV

Ht: 5'9”

Wt: 189 lbs

Eyes: Green

Hair: Blonde, cropped

Race: Human

Rank: Master Chief Petty Officer

Assignment Chief of the Boat, USS Excalibur-C

Call Sign: Tug

 

Father: Francis Johnson, Civilian Port Authority Administrator, Taki IV

Mother: Jeri Johnson, Homemaker

 

Siblings:

Diane (Johnson) Kollan, 40

Thomas Johnson, 36

Skip Johnson, 19

 

Career History:

 

Born first of four children, Kale grew up on the colony world of Taki IV in the Obarin Cluster near the Federation-Gorn border. An athletic child, Johnson played sports throughout his primary schooling at the Hale School in the capital city of Taki. Later he attended the University of South Colona in the neighboring system where he majored in history while competing on the university’s polo team.

 

After graduating, Kale began teaching part time at a local high school in Tyran City, Colona before joining Starfleet as an enlisted crewman, posted to the local garrison at Starbase 109. Working his way through the enlisted ranks, Kale became a non-commissioned officer in 2371 and was assigned as Petty Officer, Third Class in the administrative command decision aboard the USS Redhawk.

 

During the Dominion War, Kale rotated through tours of duty aboard the Redhawk, Iowa, Franling, Honshu and two deployments with the 305th Infantry, being promoted to Chief Petty Officer by the end of the war.

 

At war’s end, Kale retired to Mars for three years before returning to active duty at the non-commissioned rank of Senior Chief Petty Officer aboard the USS Yuma, assigned to patrol the Federation-Breen border.

 

In late 2381, Kale was reassigned to Camelot Station in the Gamma Quadrant as Master Chief Petty Officer and tasked with heading the Administrative Command division of the station. Following the commissioning of the USS Excalibur-C, he was tapped to serve aboard the starship as Chief of the Boat.

To: Personnel Office

Starfleet Command, Earth

 

From: Captain Ah-Windu Corizon

U.S.S. Excalibur, NCC-2004-C

 

Re: Kallah Ramson

--------------------------------------------------------------

 

This communique is to serve as notice that effective Stardate 0810.05, Lieutenant Kallah Ramson has been promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Commander. This decision comes after extended review of her service and dedication to the U.S.S. Excalibur. It is a pleasure to have such a capable officer aboard and I sincerely hope we will profit from her assistance in the future.

The doors had no more than closed behind sickbay when his communicator chirped. “Go ahead.”

 

“Captain,” JoNs said. “The Ziers are getting restless..”

 

“Let them know I just spoke with Doctor Tamoris, he reports that Julie is doing well and should be ready for them to see in the next hour.”

 

“Of course, Captain. I'll let them know.”

 

“Was there anything else?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“Very well then,” he said. “I'll be in my quarters if anything comes up.”

 

“Aye,” the Caitian said. “JoNs out.”

 

Corizon smiled slightly and headed towards the nearest turbolift. No offense intended to Commander Teykier, but he was pleased to have the Caitian back in action. The lift doors slid shut. “Deck three.”

 

The humming had barely started when another chirp from his communicator caused the Dameon to growl slightly before hitting his badge. “Corizon here.”

 

“Good to hear your voice Captain,” Major Cloud Makisu said.

 

“I think that's my line, Major.”

 

The chuckle from the Dachlyd echoed as the lift came to a halt. “We're still going through de-con, but you should have my report within the hour.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

“Though,” Makisu said, the cheer in his voice quickly drying out. “The casualty report will take me a little longer.”

 

“Casualty report?”

 

“We lost three men, sir.”

 

Corizon stopped in the middle of the hallway, closing his eyes and holding back a more emotional response. “Dammit.”

 

“They were good men.”

 

“Of course,” Corizon said. “Get in touch with Mister K'hal on the bridge... we'll arrange a memorial for them.”

 

“Thank you Captain.”

 

“Thank you, Major. If I'd known, I would have already been down there.”

 

“I understand Captain,” Cloud said. “Don't you worry about us. We're marines afterall.”

 

Corizon smiled in spite of himself and resumed walking. “If you need anything...”

 

“I expect a very strong drink.”

 

“I think that can be arranged.”

 

“Thanks, Makisu out.”

 

Bloody hell. Corizon turned the corner and entered his darkened quarters, half expecting the vampire to be waiting for him. He wasn't sure to be relieved or not when she was no where to be seen, regardless he flopped down on the leathery couch with a thud.

 

“Three more men,” he said aloud. “How many more people am I going to lose on this quest? And for what?”

 

He ran his hands through his hair with a heavy sigh. “Damnit.”

 

The sudden, crashing realization that the entire trip to this godforsaken planet had been utterly useless hit him with the force of a warp core breach. He'd been so focused on getting the infant back that he'd failed to register that if they didn't get the crownstone back, that the entire mission was likely over. They would have to return to Camelot without their prize.

 

“We finally get a decent lead, after three months... and all we have to do is take it from a bunch of ... of.. primitive ...” His rant digressed into an increasingly difficult to translate string of growls, barks and one can only assume obscenities.

 

Suddenly, overwhelmed, he launched from the couch and turned over the coffee table, emptying its contents onto the floor. That was just the beginning; ten minutes later and the entire room looked as if a plasma storm had raged through. In the midst of the rubble, panting, claws extended Corizon stood, his raging bolero building into a scream. The scent of blood caught his attention. It was his. A piece of glass protruded from his hands, but all the adrenaline numbed the pain.

 

Fighting back his urges, he took a deep breath and removed the offending piece of glass and licked lightly at the wound.

 

“Damnit...”

Tiny rocks that had once made up the system called Salin parted in the wake of the two white-hulled vessels baring the Federation flag -- the Saladin and the Cavendish. Where a brilliant and thriving system had once existed, the small marbles of volcanic rock remained as the only evidence.

 

Aboard the Saladin the masters of the two vessels sat combing through reports from their combined science staffs and the efforts of several dozen scientists at Camelot and in the Alpha quadrant. None of them seemed pleasing.

 

“The whole damned situation is vexing,” Captain Jai Harom-Kell of the Saladin said.

 

“Yes,” Captain Renee Yvves-Maunier said as she placed another PADD down and began on another. “In all my years I’ve not seen something quite like this.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Usually, you expect to see some sort of sign as to why a star breaks up, not to mention that the wave pattern is so ungodly unlike anything I’ve ever ran across… even the subspace theorists will be raising their brows over this…”

 

“If they ever hear about it,” Harom-Kell said disparagingly.

 

Yvves-Maunier nodded, her unspoken agreement obvious. “I wish I knew what had done this,” she said furrowing her brows. “If we had some sort of frame of reference, something to go from…”

 

--

 

Commander Gragogin 147 sat quietly sipping hish tea as the shuttle Thomas Aquinas headed into orbit of the planet Avalon and headed towards the a research base on the planet.

 

Above him, Columbia drifted quietly in the docking berths of the dry-dock of Camelot Station, approximately 120 light-years from the Gamma Quadrant terminus of the wormhole.

 

A sudden, fleeting moment of disembodiment came over hir and an eerie sense of deja vu kicked in, as if someone had just walked on hish grave. S/he blinked for a moment assessing that s/he was indeed aboard a shuttle headed to inspect some findings of an archeological dig in the southern regions.

 

The assurance that s/he was came as welcome news to hir sanity; the past several weeks had been busy to say the least. Columbia had gotten orders to report to into base for refurbishment and major upgrades to bring them in-line with the Iowa-subclass of Sovereign-class vessels. That, as the Admiral had dryly put it hadn't came as such a surprise, the location for the refit, on the other hand, was 'interesting.'

 

Here they were, deep in the heart of Dominion space and there was a major Federation (along with Romulan and Klingon) space station orbiting a rapidly colonizing planet with one of the largest communications arrays ever built. All of this happening while the Dominion attempted to recover from a year-long war with an ancient, powerful and downright scary Empire that, like the Dominion, found itself fractured and enveloped in its twilight.

 

The shuttle dipped into Avalon's misty atmosphere and began its descent towards the primary base. The Hermat sighed happily, shrugging off the nagging feelings that some part of hir had just been violently, surgically ripped away.

 

--

 

It was a quite morning on the bridge of the Cape Horn. The Steamrunner-class starship had just made its first mapping pass of the Gobiean Cluster and had begun circling for a second, more detailed scan. She’d been dispatched originally for a much shorter mission of surveying a handful of systems, however, at the insistence of its captain, Starfleet had approved a six-month in-depth survey of those systems, with the option of extending the stay another six-months.

 

The aforementioned captain, Commander Arturias Rex, sat looking over the initial scans a bemused smirk on his face. It felt good to actually be out exploring, not just running supplies and smacking local thugs around.

 

So far the Gobiean Cluster has proved to be exactly what they bargained for, and the science team had already excitedly began sending findings back to Camelot and beyond , and the second, more detailed, scan would hopefully be even more revealing.

 

The sudden, violent shaking of the Cape Horn that made the captain feel as if his vessel were passing through its namesake derailed the thought completely. As the bucking finally stopped, and the emergency lighting on the bridge clicked on, he crawled his was back into his seat.

 

“Someone get the number on that truck?”

 

A few moments later Ensign Gail Hajon responded. “Unsure Captain, it appears to have been some sort of energy wave.”

“Helm,” Rex responded. “Level us out…”

 

“Already doing so Captain, damage appears to be localized to primary transfer network, engines responding.”

 

“That’s good news, now what the hell was that?”

 

--

 

Commander Corris Sprint sat uncomfortably in the his chair aboard the command center of Camelot Station, looking with furrowed brow at the communications streams from the various vessels of the allied forces scattered throughout the quadrant.

 

“Something wrong, Commander?” The voice was that of Sogh’a (Senior Lieutenant) BroHngh, the stations chief tactical officer. “You look, concerned.”

 

Sprint nodded and relayed the feed onto the Klingon’s screen. “Yes,” he said lowly. “Recognize anything familiar.”

 

The Klingon soon furrowed his brow as well. “Interesting.”

 

The seasoned Chief Operations officer nodded. “Ensign Degal,” he said without looking towards the blue-purple skinned alien at an auxiliary console. “Go rouse Commander Blair, and find Doctor Yavin.”

 

“Should I put the station on alert?” BroHngh asked.

 

Pursing his lips, Sprint considered for a moment before answering. “Yes, but very quietly, no need to spark a panic. Have El’Arrain [senior Centurion] tr’Lokan very discretely tell cargo runners that they need to stick to patrolled routes, and not to deviate from their flight paths.”

 

“Of course,” the Klingon said tapping the orders, while copying, very discreetly, a memo to Governor K’Vorlag that he might want to check in on Camelot sooner than later.

 

“What about the Admiral,” Degal queried, “should we wake Admiral Day?”

 

“Admiral Day is currently meeting with Rear Admiral T’Pran of the Columbia,” Sprint replied calmly. “I’ll contact them once I have a chance to meet with Commander Blair.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

--

 

The mist was still clearing and the frost had begun burning away as the suns of Avalon rose in the early morning. Dr. Alyssa Yavin placed the silvery mug of coffee to her lips as she stood outside the grey metallic buildings that formed the temporary home of the Avalon Archeology Study Project Base #4. Though not an archeologist by training, it was certainly exciting that her teams were turning up things that even the Dominion had managed to miss.

 

According to the Vorta databanks, this planet had never been inhabited, yet the more Starfleet and their Romulan counter parts looked (the Klingons weren’t exactly into this sort of work) the planet, the more and more they suspected that wasn’t an entirely accurate assessment.

 

This find was particularly interesting. Ruins of a pre-Dominion culture were interesting enough, but ruins of possible Dominion origin were… fantastic.

 

A small shuttle zoomed overhead and made its approach too landing. A small smile crossed her face as she took a last drink of the coffee and headed to landing paddock to greet her invited guest for the day.

 

--

 

After several months with a gregarious Hermat as her first officer, it would be an understatement to say that drinking tea with a fellow Vulcan, if only half, and having an ordered, logical conversation in which sexual innuendo was as absent as air in space. As such, the Mistress (though she wasn’t sure why the humans felt the need to use such a—sexually charged term) of the Columbia sipped lightly, unemotionally at the jaek tea in the quiet surroundings of the Camelot observation lounge looking over fleet reports with Vice-Admiral Wayne Day.

 

She had to admit that the dichotomy of the two Vulcan half-breeds was rather interesting, and stark in comparison. He, or at the least his parents, had chosen an obvious human name and mostly human upbringing; on the other hand she’d been raised in the proper Vulcan tradition and took a Vulcan name. Interesting how much a name could define a person. T’Pran. Wayne Day.

 

There were subtler differences that were manifestations of this. While his logic was solid, from what she could tell, he likely had emotional outbursts. The very thought of such lapses caused a series of synaptic firings that some humans would call fear in T’Pran. That, however, was an emotion. She was above such… frivolities, or at least attempted to be as much as possible.

 

Nevertheless, he was a Vulcan who’d simply chosen a different path to logic and knowledge, and as with all things, diversity bred infinite possibilities.

 

Pausing in her mental assessments, she glanced towards him. “I must say Admiral, your engineering staff has been quiet adequate in the retrofitting of Columbia,” she said. “I read they are ahead of schedule.”

 

“Yes,” he said with a slight smile. “They do very good work.”

 

The emotionalism caused a slight, unnoticeable pause before she reminded herself of her last thought. She opened her mouth the speak, but was cut off by the chirp of a communicator.

 

“Admirals,” Corris Sprint said, “sorry to interrupt you but Commander Blair and I think you need to get up here.”

 

The two Admirals looked at each other, Vulcan eyebrows raised in unison.

 

“Different, yet the same,” T’Pran thought to herself.

 

--

 

“Commander,” Yavin said with a smile, “It’s good to see you… I haven’t seen you in… years.”

 

The Hermat officer smiled with a wide grin. It had been at least seven years since s’he had seen hish former colleague and at least they were meeting on ‘good terms.’ “Indeed,” s/he said. “Thank you for inviting me down…”

 

The two hugged each other and exchanged further pleasantries before heading off to the dig-site, where busy scientists were already ‘playing.’

 

“I do wish you were staying longer, Grago.”

 

“As do I,” s/he said. “You know how it is though, once they complete the refit of Columbia it’s hard to tell where they will send us.”

 

Yavin nodded and continued walking. Such was the life of a ‘fleeter. She’d been lucky in that her assignments had been almost all stationary. She could understand the appeal of gallivanting across the galaxy, discovering something new at every turn, but by the same token she liked the consistency of the sedentary.

She opened her mouth to comment on something when the annoying chirp of communicator interrupted her. “Just a second Grago… I swear I am going to throw this thing in the river one day…”

 

S/he smiled. “I know the feeling.”

 

Smirking, Yavin flipped her brown-red hair to one side and hit the communicator. “Yavin here, go ahead.”

 

“Commander,” the young voice of what she could only assume was an ensign said. “I am sorry to interrupt you, bit Commander Sprint and Blair require your presence aboard Camelot.”

 

Chewing at her lip she acknowledged and let him she’d be up shortly. The comm closed and she looked sidelong over to her Hermat companion would rather interested. “I hate it when they do that…”

 

“Call you away from spending time with little ole’ hish?”

 

“No,” she grinned. “Call me ‘Commander.’”

 

Gragogin 147 feigned hurt, “Oh, right.”

 

“Oh shut up,” she said pretending to smack hir. “Why don’t you just tag-along.”

 

“Sounds exciting.”

 

“I’ve learned that in this quadrant,” she said. “Exciting can sometimes also mean dangerous or deadly.”

She sniffed again. It smelled funny.

 

Wort, Bogart Auntie and Raidmistress looked at the 'present' her idiot son had brought back from his raid on the Excaelyburr with mild displeasure and hint of annoyance, he at least could have had the decency to steal something she could wear. Granted, as her inner hedonist was quick to point out, the baby did have enough skin to make a nice clutch bag or a wallet. Though it would need tanned and dyed a decent color – that ugly pink was soo last season. (Mostly because it clashed with her skin tone, pink and green... ewww.)

 

At the very least, though, he could have picked something the Excaelyburr and its menagerie-esque crew actually wanted enough to come ask for it back – for a decent price. True, she did have reservations about accepting the 'gift' in the first place, and wasn't entirely sure she wanted the war-dog and his panther prowling around if they were in cahoots with those moron cloud-minders who'd never quite got over that she'd won.

 

Side-long, she glanced over to her 'prize' and smiled. Well at least she'd still have that. If the war-dog and his fancy ship did come looking for the baby and somehow survived navigating the Thicket, she doubted he'd have enough to buy both from her. Doubted? Knew. For the kid she'd ask for plenty...

 

Her train of thought derailed as it started crying... or something and managed to somehow smell worse. Oh good Bogart Mothers. She frowned deeply and looked to her perfectly manicured nails, then to the mess it had made of itself. No. way. in. hell.

 

“Bek! Hork! Nok! Get your green, dirty rear-ends in here now!”

 

The three young-ish Boganary children clamored quickly and promptly into Auntie's room, each unsure exactly why they were there, but each prepared with a perfectly good excuse for whatever mischief she was going to bawl them out over. Presenting themselves in good, well-ordered (if not vile and dirty from playing in the swamps) fashion the three of them tried to ignore the awful smell coming from behind Auntie as best they could, wondering if it had been some new perfume Galik had brought her that just didn't mesh well with her natural musk. Finally, in unison they spoke. “Yes, Auntie?”

 

Wort looked them over, finding them, despite herself, disgustingly cute. She glanced back at her 'present' that had finally shut-up. Mine are so much cuter. Smiling, she returned her glance to her three children. “Auntie has a job for you...”

 

Surprised, they blinked, wondering what they'd done to deserve such pun... responsibility. “You do?”

 

“Yes,” Wort said with a wide, toothy grin that belayed mischief. “Galik's present for me is... well ... I need you three to be very careful with it and keep it out of my hair till I am ready for it. It also needs cleaned.”

 

“Like, for eating?” Bok, the most vocal of the three said, obviously bouncy about eating something young and tender.

 

She considered for a moment before responding, “Perhaps, but not yet. I just need you three to bathe it, like you would your umammi's when they've been playing in the swamps with you.”

 

They nodded, though clearly excited that Auntie trusted them with such an important gift.

 

“And after we clean it? Then what, Auntie?”

 

“Then you can take it to your room and I don't know... keep it busy. It does seem to be awful dense, I suppose those huomans aren't the brightest things around. Keeping it amused should be within even your abilities.”

 

The trio bounced happily and removed the stinky thing from it's soiled surroundings and headed off to boil a pot of water for cleaning. They liked new toys. Yes. New toy. Bounce.

 

Children, Wort sighed. Why would anyone want one in the first place. She just hoped that one would fetch a decent price, or was tasty.

Corizon sat in the ready room in darkness. That could have gone better. He was trying to recount when the last time he'd lost his temper on the bridge to one of his own crew members had been and failed miserably. The man had a sharp memory, and while he'd occasionally barked at the crew, pardon the pun, he'd never wanted to claw them.

 

What had caused the flare up was actually the most troubling part. Had it been that junior officers were being sarcastic and arguing with the Captain as if they were equal? Possibly. Perhaps it was the role-reversal. Corizon for a change didn't want fly in guns blazing, but wanted to achieve some modicum of a peaceful solution and was met with stiff resistance by many of the same people who either behind his back or to his face made crass remarks about him being 'gun-happy.'

 

A long, deep sigh escaped him as he lay on the maroon leathered couch of the ready room with a cloth over his face. So much for having a good relationship with the crew. Now, not only was he a gun-toting , erratic Captain with a history in the dark side of the fleet, but he was an ass. Oh this was going to be a fun mission.

 

Which brought about the main crux—how the hell did they solve the current issue? There was no solution being offered forth that didn't carry risk either to the ship, the child, or both. If they went in guns blazing, the Boganary could decide the kid wasn't worth it and kill the kid, or worse they beat the Excalibur. It was unthinkable thought to be sure, but even with every support craft aboard the ship fight off more than 5-6 of those ships and god only knew how many they'd have. Nor did they have the intelligence to insert a stealth team.

 

There was a suggestion to steal a Boganary ship, Corizon wasn't sure what that would do beyond giving them another dangerous task.. (Even with a cloak, stealing a ship isn't as easy as taking candy from a baby.) Information they gained would be useful, sure, but not enough to justify the risks of capturing a ship.

 

And then there was the peaceful solution, which banked on the greed of the Boganary and Auntie Wort. There was not telling if once they approached the system, if a dozen or so Boganary ships would jump them and well, boom is never a good thing. Now, alternately there was the advantage that the cloak (and he wasn't even going to touch legal issues there) could give them enough stealth to approach the planet and ask for the kid back, but there was still no guarantee of them not going boom as soon as they decloaked.

 

Again with the risk.. Irony abounded; Corizon was the risk taker. Well at least, he was willing to make choices that needed to made to accomplish a mission. Why then could he not sort out which amazingly awful plan and go with it; why was he doing double and triple takes and engaging in an argument with his junior officers about it? Perhaps it was the continued questioning of his own judgment that seemed to only lead to worse problems?

 

His head hurt. No mater how long he lay around asking the questions forming in his head, he'd not be any closer to a solution to the problem at hand: get the baby back, and if possible the crownstone. The next thought was that his eye-lids were heavy. Very. Heavy.

It had been a long day and Felix settled into his bunk with a heavy sigh. Leave had been cut short way too early; didn't it always though?

 

The sandy-brown haired human sighed again and looked over to the mess of clothing, PADDs and bottles of bloodwine that decorated the floor of his and petty officer James Moroial's two person room. He was lucky his department head didn't get to upset about silly things like keeping cleanly rooms, other wise the two human males would be on constant PT duty.

 

Shifting his weight, he turned over on his side and glanced at the digital display on the dresser. Ugh. Even if he got to sleep now, he'd only have a few hours before the voice of the computer – could they not find something more pleasantly toned? -- started the wake up call. And then it would start all over again.

 

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

 

After leaving Deep Space Nine the maintenance crew had quickly gotten their assignments – which weren't too awful – but the week-long layover at Camelot Station had broken the routine so thoroughly that going back to it was almost unbearable. Especially on an older ship like Vergniaud that'd been through quite a bit in her long service.

 

You would have thought that the starbase engineers could have started the work on replacing the primary EPS handlers for eight junctions, but no... they'd been to busy. More likely, he suspected, the Chief'd pissed the Romulan CENG of Camelot off and she'd found fifty other things for her own people to work on.

 

He hurt all over. Crawling around in a JT for seven hours would do that you. He didn't even want to think about how swore he'd be tomorrow.

Mission Brief: Excalibur has caught up to the fighters and the piece of hull the Boganary left behind. We're just on the edge of the Thicket, which on closer inspection, is about as fun looking as the Briar Patch and the Badlands combined.

072008.txt

"Therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from whence he was taken. So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life...." ~ Genesis, Chapter 3, 23-24

Weyoun sat quietly, emotionless as the transport lurched to warp beneath him. He'd journeyed so far to once again be in the presence of the Female Changeling, his god. Yet, he'd come no closer to the answers he'd so desperately desired.

 

Vorta did not have what most humanoids would consider parents, they were clones after all; however, he'd always considered the Female Changeling to be more than just his god – she was his mother. It was she who'd given him life, she who'd led him through so much trial and strife, and she who provided constant wisdom for him so that he might please the gods and earn his life. Suddenly, he understood so much better the feeling, the rush that it must give the Jem'Hadar when they connected a vial of White and felt the very breath of the gods course through their bodies.

 

It was in deed true that for the Vorta, the White was the instruction of the Founders. They had been breed to serve, but without masters, without their gods they starved in painful, guilt ridden withdrawal. Unlike the Jem'Hadar though, they could physically live without the 'white' of the Founder's Guidance. Perhaps that is why it had been so... painful to endure.

 

Now as the Earth and the only true Founder that could give him guidance shrank in the distance, he felt pangs of hurt, jealousy and a sudden desire to be with her once more. It had been harder for him than say, Keevan or even Semil. They didn't understand. For so long, he had been at the right hand of the Gods, ever in their presence, and so suddenly that relationship was gone.

 

When they'd reawaken him as Weyoun 10, he had many of the memories of the last Weyoun, including the time spent with the Founder in this wretched, foul quadrant that his god was forever imprisoned in; then to find that he could not only not commune in with her but to find that all of the Founders, save for the 'Hundred,' had cut themselves off from the Vorta had been... almost unbearable.

 

Of course when the chance arose that he could see her again, at the beginning of the Scorpiad Conflict, he had felt like a child who'd lost his mother in crowded market and been found. The wisdom she had given him, the insight had been utterly astonishing and his hope in life had been restored, any faith in the Founders that had been lost returned ten fold. Leaving then had been one of the hardest things he'd

ever had to do in his ten life-times, but it had been for the good of the Dominion. She had tasked him with the fate of her creation. She had once again placed her faith in him, and it pleased him greatly.

 

He'd done as she asked. He found Taenix. The Scorpiads had been defeated. The Dominion was not safe. In that, he once again returned through the wormhole in failure to once more beseech her for guidance. That had taken quite of bit of diplomacy on his part. The Federation had been reluctant, resistant to allow him to see her the first time the request had been made. They'd been pertinacious in their rebuke of the second request, despite the blessings of the Starfleet officers at Camelot Station.

 

Finally, three weeks ago they'd relented. They agreed to allow him to speak once more to the Founder in her cell at the ultra-high security prison on New Zealand, Earth. Though they cautioned that this could be the last time they allowed such an interaction, and noted that they would be moving her to another facility, whose location would not be disclosed.

 

It actually made him smirk. The Federation was so utterly predictable. They assumed they held her against her will. There was little doubt in his mind that if the Founder so choose, which a small, tiny portion of him desired more than anything else in life, she could and would free herself from their chains and return to the Gamma Quadrant to be with her people once more.

 

When he arrived at her cell, his heart had filled with hope as he felt the eminence of the gods once more. For both of them, it was a welcome reunion. Though she would not admit it openly, she had missed Weyoun. He was so loyal, so kind, so caring. His entire life had been dedicated to one purpose and one alone – serving the Founders, and she missed that. She missed her old life. Her people. Weyoun deeply missed the commune.

 

He told her of the war, of Taenix and how the combined forces of the Alpha Quadrant and the Dominion and the Hundred had defeated the Scorpiads. It had pleased her that her children had so deftly fought of the old nemesis of her people. It gave her renewed faith in what Odo had taught her about the humans and gave her hope that someday she could commune once more with the Great Link without fear of the Solids.

 

Weyoun couldn't help but be pleased. He lived for no other purpose than to see his gods happy. Sadly, he could not bring her just good news. Gravely, he'd told her of the turmoil that was now beginning to spread across her glorious creation; without the Founders the Vorta were lost, they had little direction, the people of the Dominion grew weary as the Vorta struggled to rebuild on their own, and the Hundred were stirring ideas of dangerous proportions, all the while the Founders were no where to be found. They'd abandoned their people. Weyoun had hoped secretly that she would tell him where to find Odo and the rest, surely she knew... or that she would return with him to bring order to the chaos.

 

His heart sank when she offered neither in response. Her words echoed in his head as his transport headed for home.

 

“My dear Weyoun,” she'd said, placing her hand on his face. “You have served me better than any Vorta I have ever remembered.”

 

“Of course, Founder,” he'd said, his pale eyes taking her in. “What would you have me do Founder?”

 

“You must return to the Council and tell them to decide for themselves how best to proceed. I cannot leave and return, nor will I tell you where to find Odo and the Link. Perhaps the humans will find themf or you, but I feel that even then... he will tell you what I am about to tell you as well...

 

“It is time for my people to step back and grow. We have hated for so long. We have feared solids. We need to change, for our own sake. It will take time Weyoun. Eventually we will return to the Dominion, to our most loyal subjects, but that time is not now. You must learn to carry on in our place.”

 

“But Founder...” he said, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. “We cannot...”

 

“You are stronger than you know,” she said. “You will, in time become strong enough.”

 

“But what if they turn to the Hundred?”

 

She frowned. “They will find their leadership a poor substitute for the true wisdom of the Founders and Great Link. If the Federation succeeds in their mission, if Excalibur does locate Odo and the Great Link, he will make Eloi understand.”

 

“And we will still be on our own...”

 

“Yes,” she said, moving off. “You will find your place Weyoun.”

 

“The Founders are wise in all things...”

 

At first, after he’d left the presence of the Founder, he’d felt, and it still was shameful for him to say, betrayed. How could the god he served so diligently, so selflessly just abandon him and her creation, just as Odo had? The feelings were so dirty. Even the defective Weyoun clone had never questioned the love of the Founders for their creations, never felt used as he did now. The distance between he and the Founders gradually increased and suddenly his feelings of resentment and abandonment faded to a wanting desire to suddenly be with her again.

 

That was when the true wisdom of the Founders had begun sinking in to his brain. She truly was his, and the rest of the Vorta, mother. It was like the mother bird who nudged her baby out of the nest for the first time, letting them fly on their own.

 

If that were the case, it would be a massive challenge for his people. As it stood, they could barely stand on their own, let alone lead the Dominion back to glory. That was to say nothing of the fact his people couldn’t even reproduce. Though, thankfully, his people were among the most ingenious in the galaxy. They had the rare evolutionary advantage of being bred as scientists and geneticists.

 

They would survive. They would triumph. The Dominion would stand once again as the mighty testament to the wisdom of the Founders. Of that, Weyoun would see to with his every breath.

 

The female changeling sighed heavily to herself as the images of Weyoun faded into memory. Her finest creation, her most loyal servant. She had not the heart to tell him that the days of the Dominion were over. The time of Founders had passed into history. No longer would their rule over the solids continue. Odo was right. The time of hate had ended.

 

It would take, for the solids, lifetimes before the Changelings of the Great Link were ready to return to the world of solids. The Dominion would crumble in their absence, but such causalities were acceptable to her and the Link. They had made the Dominion to protect themselves and they no longer needed it. What they needed was time.

 

Odo had been wise to follow her suggestion to him; he had taken the Link faraway from the influence of the Dominion, away from the dangers that lurked in shadows. Many generations ago, when the Scorpiads had nearly eradicated them, they had journeyed far into the heart of the Quadrant to a place known only to the Link, hidden deeply away from prying eyes. There the Great Link would endure.

 

For all of her platitudes towards Weyoun, that was all she cared about. The Dominion would fall and fade into chaotic twilight, but the Link would survive.

There was a foul stench in the air. Mmm dinner was nearly ready. Wort, Boganary Auntie and Raidmistress sat lounging in an ornate silver chase lounger with black, crushed velvet cushions that seemed oddly out of place in the dusty, wooden surroundings of the room. Skulls and objects from various raids and campaigns lined the room—her trophies.

 

She wrapped a green hand around a brilliantly engraved mirror and looked at her figure. Light blue eye-shadow and red rouge stroked gently across her face, which was lined with wrinkles and bumps. Her long, thin ears were adorned with gemstone earrings. With her free hand, she took a small brush and patted her face with ornoroot powder for that special glow.

 

Dinner did smell appetizing. She placed the mirror on the table and leaned back into the chase once more.

 

“Auntie! Auntie!”

 

She turned to see the pattering of three small, orcish green Boganary younglings approaching her. She lifted an ear and sat up enough to get a better look at them. Bek, Hork and Nok. Wonderful.

 

“Yes,” she said in the gravely, harsh voice only a mother can use without sounding overly stern.

 

“Galik is on his way home! And he has a present for you!”

 

This came as a pleasant surprise. Not only had the three younglings brought good news, and weren't coming to her because someone had stolen something from them, but her son Galik was returning from a raid-patrol with presents. Perhaps he wasn't a complete failure after all. His fellow broodmates certainly weren't all that promising. Of course, that had been why the three younglings, who currently were playing with a skull or...something, probably had a different father.

 

“And what is he bringing me?” She asked, as they quickly stopped playing and looked at Wort intently, like three well-behaved, for Boganary, children should.

 

“Oooooh,” the said almost in unison. “Something good!”

 

“Well,I assumed that, but what is he bringing Auntie?”

 

“Something from the Excaelibur!”

 

Wort looked over them for a few moments. “He stole something from that ship?”

 

They nodded in unison. “He thought you'd be most excited...”

 

She took a very deep breath. “That fool... now they'll be looking for him...”

 

“You're not pleased?”

 

“Oh,” she said, softening. “Auntie is always pleased when her children and clan bring her presents. She just worries that Galik bit off more than his little, filthy mouth can handle...”

 

“Should we tell him to send the hoomhan baby back?”

 

She blinked. Baby? Galik might have just redeemed himself after all. From what she'd heard of these hoomhans and this Excaelibur they were very fond of their people, and she could only image what they'd pay to get one of their off-spring back. Granted, she'd heard a great many things about this ship too... supposedly they were lead by a war-dog, a giant panther, and had... what had her spy called it... a leech? Yes... a leech aboard that worked for the ... she paused... if they were in league with them.

 

Curses. A thousand thoughts went through her head. Had the Cloud-people became so desperate as to enlist their help?

 

Her concerns were lost on the younglings who were still looking intently up at their mother. “Mmm no, tell him proceed to the thicket, but bring Hathig and Warthig to me as soon as you find them... we have preparations to be made.”

 

Dinner would have to wait.

So you'd agree with the idea of it being more like the EU then?

Captain Jai Harom-Kell of the Saladin sat quietly in the observation lounge of the Excelsior-class vessel as it sailed through the debris of what was once known as Salin system. To say the devastation was shocking would have been putting it lightly. It was as if the entire system had been brutally, utterly torn to tiny pieces the size of dom-jot balls.

 

In his years, which included battles with the Borg, Dominion and now Scorpiad he’d never seen this level of utter destruction, not even when the Plasma Storm of ’79 had torn through the Altivca Sector with the vengeance of a spurned lover. Frankly, he found it rather unsettling that anything could do this… which left the question lingering, “what had done this?”

 

Though he’d preferred not to know the answer, Starfleet Command would undoubtedly feel different. Thus, the entire science staff of the Saladin was working tirelessly across four shifts to find out just what had so abruptly caused the end of the once brilliant light of the green star named Salin.

 

Science was just beginning to get the first results back from the preliminary rounds of scans, which were being carbon-copied to Camelot Station for further analysis, as well as being relayed to the Nova-class Cavendish that had been dispatched to aide in the investigation.

 

So far, the leading theories were: some sort of planet-busting Scorpiad subspace weapon they’d deployed to demonstrate their power to the rebellion, a new natural phenomena that had yet to be explained, the Al-Ucard were testing new weapons and it went poorly… the list kept growing.

 

From his own perspective, he considered the first theory the most likely, which only served to scare him even more. The idea of such an aggressive species with ability to wipe an entire sector off the map without so much as firing a single shot was downright terrifying.

 

“Captain,” a chime came through the comm., “Secure communication from Starfleet Command… shall I transfer it to you?”

 

“Of course,” he said turning to face the view screen against the wall. “Put it through.”

 

The blank screen lit-up with a familiar golden parabola before switching through a secure line process as it jumped across communication relays and connected him to whomever was calling. The screen flashed, and soon Rear Admiral Nakota Haegail’s green-blue ridge-lined face appeared on screen.

 

“Captain,” the Hiaori female said in the warmest way possible for a species who, Harom-Kell was fairly sure, thought that being friendly meant biting your head off. “I have read your report, as has the Federation Council and the Joint Chiefs…”

 

For a moment, he simply blinked, wondering just why his fairly unalarming report to Command about the situation had managed to work its way through the halls of power so quickly as to merit a call from the brass so quickly. “I didn’t figure that it would have made it through so quickly,” he said honestly.

 

“The Belvidere Array has greatly increased the communications between quadrants, Captain…”

 

He silently cursed the inventor, but just nodded instead. “The wonders of modern technology…”

 

“We’re troubled by the assertions that this is the work of the Scorpiads to quell a ‘rebellion.’”

 

The Grohmorite Captain again blinked a few times, processing what the woman was saying. “May I ask why?”

 

“It asserts that the Scorpiads would willingly use weapons of mass destruction against their own people, and that there is an organized rebellion—neither of which are acceptable assertions to the Admiralty or the Federation…

 

“We simply cannot accept that our allies would participate in such…nefarious activities. Nor do we accept the rumors of an organized rebellion by the Al-Ucard and Eratian forces.”

 

“With due respect, Admiral,” Harom-Kell had added the inflexion as much to remind himself whom he was talking to as much as anything else. “That’s the biggest crock of hagne I’ve heard in a while.

 

“Anyone who’s spent anytime out here over the last year and a half, let alone the last three years, will tell you both are rather true…”

 

“With due respect, Captain,” she said, adding the inflexion to remind him who he was talking too. “The Admiralty does not believe the assertions of a few disaffected members of their society to be true. And in our own negotiations with the Scorpiads, they’ve proven to be wise, considerate and thoughtful.”

 

Harom-Kell considered his possible responses and the outcomes of said responses and decided not to press the point any further. “Admiral,” he finally said. “What do want from the Saladin?”

 

Mildly placated Haegail cracked a thin-smile that seemed as razor sharp as a sehlat’s fangs. “We wish for you and the Cavendish to continue your research into the incident in the Salin system, however…”

 

There was always a however, Harom-Kell thought to himself quietly. “Yes?”

 

“However, your findings are not to be broadcast across any unsecure channels, nor are you or any of your crew to speak of it to anyone who’s not authorized directly by Fleet Command… a list of which is on its way as we speak…consider this now an issue of Federation Security… Cavendish has been CC'd on these orders as well.”

 

He opened his mouth to protest, but sighed in capitulation. “Of course, Admiral, anything else?”

 

“Not that I am aware of… good day, Captain.”

 

The screen blinked off and Harom-Kell sat alone in the observation lounge with more uncomfortable questions that he didn’t want answers too.

ENT makes everything more complicated :P

 

In general I like the idea of differentiated levels of 'membership.' Again I generally assume the Federation not to be unicameral.

 

Actually I think instead of the UN, perhaps the model we might want to look at is a slightly more unified version of the EU?

I tend to imagine the same version as what Sorehl describes, only going a step further. One of the big issues you'd get into with having something the massive size of the Federation that some "worlds" like Earth might actually have like 20-30 different colony worlds or more under their jurisdiction. So would they be elected from each "world" or each "race."

 

In general, I've tried to simply keep any sort of issue with that away from my own game, because it makes my head hurt. :P

I actually generally imagine the "Council" itself to be set up much like the UN and it's "Security" council with several "Permanent " members that would be the Founding Worlds of the Federation, generally given as "Earth, Vulcan, Tellar, Andor, and Cait. (Though in ENT implies Denobula in their place, it could be possible that both Cait and Denobula have permanent seats.) Then a number of rotating 'at-large' seats from the 'General Assembly.'

What he was about to say would likely come as a surprise to anyone who'd known Ambassador Tyan-ji of Dameon. As one of the rotating members on the Council, he'd spent the better part of the last three years going to every little trouble spot in the galaxy doing 'investigations' of one kind or another. That had included a three month stay at Camelot Station to oversee a very not-publicly known visit of the Weyoun to the Female Shapeshifter on Earth, and again to be a signatory to the joint "Camelot Armistice" which had brought a temporary end to the conflict between the Scopriads and the Dominion. In the intervening time, he'd been mostly dealing with issues of less galatic importance than the 'Sorehl Report' which was currently on the front burner of the Council's "to-do" list.

 

That said, he'd not even asked a single question during the report... all four hours of it. He'd simply set back and listened with both of his dog-like ears to everything being said around him.

 

He achieved some modicum of amusement that few of his colleagues had any idea of his real feelings on the subject. In the general assembly, Dameons (including himself) had a propensity towards the more 'martial' side of the Federation, leaning a tad bit towards the Iron Fist in the Velvet Glove approach to dealing with Cardassia. Granted, that shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone who had read anything about his people, or knew that they still harbored feelings of ill will over the attempted conquest of their world during the last war. In deed, as one of his colleagues had put it, "the general feeling of the people of my world, and this delegation, is that Cardassia should not be allowed to ever rebuild in a manner that would allow them rise to threaten the peace and security that so many fought to protect..."

 

And not that he didn't agree with that sentiment. But the way that sentiment had been carried out had only increased the chance that Cardassia would emerge from Occupation (either forcefully or diplomatically) as an armed and hostile nation that would be anxious to once again prove it was a force to be reckoned with. In other words, they'd emerge, if the parallel would be allowed, as Earth's Germany from WWI. Or more aptly, exactly as they had after the end of the Bajoran Occupation.

 

That was unacceptable.

 

Thus, the Ambassador from Dameon sat quietly in his office preparing his statement to the Council. He'd not bothered to meet with anyone else on the body to run his remarks by them, he was long past politicking his way through the body, it was not as if he had any ambition to run for President of the Federation. Nor did he care if his government asked him to return home. So his remarks would be solely his own, and they would come from his heart and mind.

 

My fellow members of the Council,

 

I have sat for the past several weeks and listened to the debates on the issue of the burgeoning mission to Cardassia known as the Aegis Project. Many of you have broached the issue with thought and concern, and all of you have spoken with the veracity and eloquence I have come to expect from this body. In deed, you have offered a number of opinions and listened to the testimony of our chosen vassal, Commissioner Sorehl of Vulcan as if he were a member of this body, which I applaud.

 

To begin, I would like to thank the Commissioner for his thoughtful, diligent, through and eloquent remarks, observation and reporting. I feel he has provided us with an invaluable trove of information from which to form our opinion. And I would advise my fellow members on the council to carefully consider his report when making your own recommendations. That said, I now humbly offer my own.

 

The stated aim of the Aegis Project was, from my point of view, to create an anchor point from which the Federation and our Allies could over see the reconstruction of Cardassia. To that end, it was the unstated goal that we should bring Cardassia back into the fold of the intergalatic community as a pliant, well-manerred ally of Peace. A certainly noble goal.

 

To accomplish it, we needed to ingratiate ourselves to the Cardassian people. We needed them to understand the value of peaceful cooperation.

 

The question I have heard asked over and over these past few weeks is "has the Aegis mission failed." I think that's the wrong question to be asking. Largely we have accomplished our stated goals. Aegis served as vital anchor to Cardassia through turbulent times, helping shepherd the way to a new world. Cardassia for the first time in generations is looking towards peaceful solutions to rebuilding, instead of simply annexing the nearest planet not under the Cardassian flag. They have elected a government that is working to grow and rebuild what has been lost. They have survived tests of leadership and came through better for it, all because of the support of the Aegis Project.

 

As I said, "was the Aegis Project successful," is not the question we should be asking, but instead "what is the future of the Aegis Project." The task this council should be taking up is how do we move forward in respect to our goals of an independent, robust, strong and peaceful Cardassia. In that respect, the Aegis Project has largely failed to bring Cardassia closer to the Federation, but not by it's own doing. I will not, at length, go into those reasons -- I think them to be rather evident -- I will simply say that our policy has failed to produce a Cardassia that is what we desire. And perhaps there in lies the problem that we should be considering.

 

We have assumed that we can decide for the Cardassians how Cardassia should rule Cardassia. That said, the longer Aegis remains under the direct control of Starfleet, the longer that perception will continue. The longer it lingers the stronger the perception of us not as wise guides helping towards a strong future, but as occupiers placing our own goals and aims before theres becomes.

 

Taking that into consideration, as well as the remarks and suggestions brought forth by others, it would be my humble proposal that Aegis continue, but in a different role.

 

It is clear that, even though they are capable of defending themselves, a station with the capabilities of Aegis is needed to insure the defense of Cardassia. However, in recognition of both Cardassia's sovereignty and the strategic interests of the Allied Powers, I would advise that the station come under full purview, ownership, and operational authority of a joint-body comprised of the allies and the Cardassian people. In doing so we not only signal an end to the "occupation" but usher forth a new era of cooperation, while keeping our ability to maintain a strong presence in the sector.

 

I would also strongly recommend that we include in the agreement to transfer ownership of the station to the joint-body, an "open borders" agreement between the Allies and the Cardassians similar to the agreement between the Klingon Empire and Federation. This would allow a degree of mutual protection, while allowing Cardassia the freedom to conduct itself in a manner they so chose.

 

I believe my proposal to be a compromise between the competing ideas of a full-withdrawal of the Aegis Project and the continuance of the status quo and I would most humbly beseech my colleagues to give weight it merit when rendering an opinion. Thank you.

It's sad when someone with a doctorate can't preform a simple operation like selecting between two different printers.

Name: Ah-Windu Corizon

 

Age: 54 (Born 2328)

Sex: Male

POB: Dameon Prime

Ht: 6'2”

Wt: 195 lbs

Eyes: Yellow

Hair: White, Shoulder Length

Race: Dameon

Rank: Captain,

Assignment Commanding Officer, USS Excalibur-C | ATAG Field Operative

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.

 

He attended the Dameon Academy, where he became a master of the Five Excellences: calligraphy, poetry, painting, traditional medicine, and martial arts. Studied Literature and Military History as well as Psychology at the academy and later acquired a Ph.D. in Psychology from same.

 

After graduation from the Dameon Academy, he attended Starfleet Academy where he excelled in the Security and Tactical tract.

 

He distinguished himself in the fields of Military Defense and Strategic planning. So much so, that after graduation he was placed in Starfleet’s Advanced Tactical Assessment Group (ATAG).

 

ATAG is a classified wing of the fleet designed to identify threats and develop action plans.

 

After several years in ATAG, he was promoted to the rank of Lt. Commander and placed at Starfleet Academy where he taught self-defense, military history, and tactical planning.

 

During the Borg Incurison of 2373, Corizon was given a temporary Field Command of the USS Sussex which made up 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.

 

Towards the end of the conflict, he disappeared for several months, listed as on duty, however, further information is classified and beyond the scope of this document.

 

He reappeared three months after the cessation of hostilities between the Dominion and the Allies along the Tholian Boarder where he was placed in charge of developing new defensive strategies.

 

After two years along the Tholian Boarder, he was again transferred, this time back to Earth and again into the ATAG as a senior field operative.

 

With rising tensions between the Dominion and the Romulan Star Empire, Starfleet has now 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 transfered 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 it's final stages of construction.

 

 

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 can result in almost cultlike following. 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 Instructor to Starfleet Academy (2361)

-Promoted to rank of Senior Analyst, ATAG (2362)

-Promoted to the Rank of Lieutenant Commander, Admiral Forest, Starfleet Academy (2368)

-Promoted to the Rank of Commander, Starfleet Command (2372)

-Given Temporary Command of the USS Sussex (2373)

-Transferred to Starfleet Central Battle Operations (2373)

-Transferred to Starbase 492, Tholian Boarder, Tactical Specialist (2376)

-Transferred to ATAG, Senior Field Operative (2378)

-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, Vice-Admiral Wayne Day (2381)

-Removed from Command of the USS Excalibur upon it's decommission (2383)

-Assigned to USS Oberon, Commanding Officer (2383)

-Transfered to USS Excalibur, Commanding Officer (2383)

 

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, Order of Excellence, Crimson Shield (w/ 9 flourishes), Battle of Sector 001, Battle of Wolf 359, Cardassia Prime Campaign,Gamma Quadrant, Dominion Campaign, Chintoka Campaign, Battle of the Wormhole, Command Cluster with one flourish, Scorpiad Conflict Medal

 

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 Guest Lecturer of War Psychology, North American University (2359-62)

-Appointed Assistant Professor of Psychology, Starfleet Academy (2361-64)

-Appointed Full Professor of Military Tactics and Theory, Starfleet Academy, (2364-76)

-Appointed Visiting Professor of Combat Psychology, Oxford University (2367-71)

-Graduated Oxford University Doctors in Applied Military Psychology (2371)

-Appointed Guest Lecturer of Military History, Berlin University (2371-76)

-Appointed Guest Lecturer of Command Psychology, Starfleet Academy (2376-79)

 

Courses Taught:

Starfleet Military History: Khitomer to Neranda III (SFA)

Introduction to Psychology of War (NAU, SFA, OU)

Battlefield Psychology (NAU, SFA, OU)

Introduction to Command Theory (SFA)

Command Psychology and Theory (SFA)

Applied Military Tactics (SFA)

Advanced Self-Defense (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 through out 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 there 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

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 crew are on a quest of epic proportions: locate the Holy Grail, an alien device capable of community directly with the Founders’ Great Link. Since the disappearance of the Founders, the Dominion and Hundred have been vying for control of Dominion worlds; this device may be the only hope of locating the elusive Founders again.

 

However, all too often we focus on the ‘stars,’ the officers and politicians of the universe who seemingly shape the world in which we live – however the reality is that behind those men and women, there is always a supporting cast. In the case of the Excalibur a crew of NCO and Enlisted officers provide the vital support that people like Ah-Windu Corizon and his first officer Left-Ear JoNs need to survive the rugged times on the frontier.

 

The aim of Excalibur: Lower Decks is to tell the story of those people, who selflessly sacrifice everything each day to make the Galaxy a better place.

 

Excalibur: Lower Decks, or simply E:LD is a message-board based game with a plot running roughly parallel to the traditional Excalibur simulation. The cast, however, is vastly different. Instead of Ensigns and Lieutenants, E:LD is made up of enlisted and non-commissioned officers. Instead of an academy graduate who’s an expert in subspace mechanical theory, a player might instead be an average Joe, but one who’s had years of experience working in and around the warp drive.

 

An advanced simulation offering, E:LD is open to all STSF Academy graduates who have served either at least six-months aboard another advanced game, or held the rank of Lt.(j.g) for 3-months. On a case-by-case basis, personnel and the command team can waive this restriction. The game is moderated by Captain Corizon and Commander JoNs, those players interested in more information should contact the hosts directly.

 

Throughout history, the men and women of the enlisted ranks, who make up the bulk of the armed services, have done tremendous deeds. We hope you will join us as we seek peace by the sword, but a peace only under liberty.

Sim Guidelines and Policy Packet

Current: July 3, 2008

Version 1.0

Welcome to the world of advanced simming! You may have 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. Following are five items of which you’ll need to be aware. These items apply specifically to the Excalibur: Lower Decks 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

The unique nature of Excalibur: Lower Decks provides an opportunity for players unable to commit to a regular, weekly time-slot to participate in the community as well as enjoy the wonderful world of role-playing. As such the requirements are very different from the standard simulation; players obviously can’t be required to attend each week, nor does the Command staff expect you to make a post each week. However, in order to keep the flow of the plot moving along at a reasonable speed, we ask that you do post at least twice a month to the Excalibur: Lower Decks boards.

 

Players who do not meet the two posts a month requirement will be contacted by the GM-team. While we understand that real-life can often become hectic we do expect a base level of commitment to the game. If you do not think you will be able to meet this requirement, be sure and send an email to both the CO and XO.

 

Players consistently missing the posting limit will be placed on probation. Players who miss posting limits while on probation will be removed from the roster. Players removed from the roster will be allowed to return to the game on a “show-cause” basis.

 

Rank and Promotions

All STSF Academy graduates shall assume their positions at the rank of Ensign on their regular games; however, E:LD is not your regular game. As the focus of E:LD is primarily on enlisted and NCO, new players will be assigned a rank from the enlisted field, officer posting will be limited to NPC’s of established players. Promotions to the next available rank will be assigned as the Commanding and Executive Officers warrant sim involvement and logs will be points considered when deciding promotion.

 

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: Lower Decks rank structure follows. (Note: some of the following information, such as advancement to the next rank should be considered IC only. Advancement in rank is determined solely by the aforementioned qualities.)

 

-Crewman- the lowest rank of Starfleet Enlisted Personnel, there exists three classes of this rank, 3rd. 2nd and 1st respectively. Officers of this type typically do “grunt” work and can be expected to be seen doing any variety of tasks from cleaning the decks to helping serve meals in the galley. Personnel who hold this rank are for intents and purposes standard soldiers. This rank is roughly equivalent to the Marine rank of Private, Private first class, and Lance Corporal.

 

-Petty Officer– the next rank of officers above Crewman, the rank of Petty Office is bestowed upon those officers who have completed the required term of service and completed such training to move to the next phase of their careers. Unlike crewman, who may only be in the service for a short duration, personnel who have chosen to move onto this rank are generally career military. Like Crewman, three classes of this rank exist (PO 3rd, 2nd, and 1st) and promotion from one class to the other is dependent on a wide range of factors. Petty Officers serve a dual role as both technical experts and as leaders. Unlike the sailors below them, there is no such thing as an "undesignated Petty Officer." Every petty officer has both a rate (rank) and rating, though they are still seen in a variety of roles, ranging from running a small repair company to clerical aids to the Command Staff. This rank is roughly equivalent to the Marine Ranks of Corporal, Sergeant and Staff Sergeant respectively

 

-Chief Petty Officer-One of the final ranks achievable by enlisted officers, a Chief Petty Officer is among the most senior enlisted crew aboard a starship or station. Advancement to this rank not only includes time of service, qualification tests but also peer review. Three classes of this rank also exist: standard, Senior and Master. For many crew, this is the highest rank they can achieve. All CPO’s are career military, having dedicated their lives to service. Petty Officers serve a dual role as both technical experts and as leaders, though they focus more on leadership roles, often heading entire “departments.” Sailors in the three Chief Petty Officer ranks also have conspicuous privileges such as separate dining and living areas. Any naval vessel of sufficient size has a room or rooms that are off-limits to anyone not a Chief (including officers) except by specific invitation. These officers to end be some of the longest serving crew aboard and generally command the respect of even the highest ranking officers. The highest of these ranks, commonly referred to simply as Master Chief, is generally the highest ranking NCO aboard any given command and may be given the title of “Chief of the Boat.” The three classes are roughly equivalent to the marine ranks of Tactical Sergeant, First Sergeant and Sergeant Major.

 

-Commissioned Officers-The roles of the two classes of officer, enlisted and commissioned are often very different, as reflected by the roster structure. In general, while the two classes of officers serve alongside each other Commissioned officers generally have more of a “starring” role aboard ships while Enlisted Crew have “support” roles. The non-commissioned officers (those personnel who hold the rank of PO and above) serve in a vital role to the function of starships and stations alike. They have broad leadership roles, must themselves possesses excellent technical skills in their chosen field, and serve as a link between the officers and common solider. As such the relationship between the two branches of enlisted and non-enlisted crews is sometimes very different. While any commissioned officer outranks any member of the enlisted crew in direct chain of command, only foolish officers disrespect seasoned enlisted men, who often have more years of service than the typical Ensign or Lieutenant. And while interaction is certainly not out of the question, in general the two groups tend to be separated, not only by operational roles, but in that officers have their own quarters (or barracks), recreational areas, and messes. Generally speaking, only certain “commons” areas would be shared by the two classes.

 

- 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. Within the simulation itself, there are certain enlisted crew who serve as the role of senior leaders. While all of the crew would be very aware who the Captain and First Officer of the ship would be, few of them would have any direct interaction with them, unless they served as Yeoman or any some other clerical role. An exception to this would be Chief of the Boat or COB, one of the senior NCOs aboard a starship, who assists and advises the CO and XO on matters regarding the good order and discipline of the crew. There is only one COB on a starship and they are generally responsible for the day-to-day operations of the boat's non-commissioned personnel and for their morale and training. For the purposes of E:LD this position will be held by a GM or by a GM-eligible player.

 

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

 

 

Roster Divisions

- Administrative Command Division - NCO and Enlisted crew in this division of the roster serve in a variety of support roles. While the command division of officer ranks in this division is fairly small, the enlisted side is much larger. Some of these specializations are:

 

Botswain’s Mates train and supervise personnel in all activities relating seamanship, and oversee the maintenance of the ship's external structure and deck equipment.

 

Culinary Specialists prepare menus and order the quantities and types of food items. They operate kitchen and dining facilities, manage large facilities, and keep records for food supplies

 

Quartermasters are in charge of all supplies related to the duties of crew aboard a starship. They also maintain the operational role of assigning and tracking quarters of all crew

 

Masters-at-Arms uphold law and order aboard deploy overseas with expeditionary forces and squadrons performing Antiterrorism/Force Protection (AT/FP) duties. The basic duty of an MA is to enforce rules and regulations, maintain good order and discipline and protect life and property. Some other duties include conducting criminal investigations and personal protective services. Though generally under the Administrative Command Division, they work closely with the Security Division of officers, and in many cases may report directly to officers from that division.

 

Musicians play in official bands and small ensembles. They give concerts and provide music for military ceremonies, religious services, and diplomatic functions. Sailors are selected for this rating through auditions. Availability of this position is determined by vessel size and role.

 

Yeomen perform secretarial and clerical work. They deal with visitors and incoming communications. They organize files and order and distribute supplies. They write and type business and social letters, notices, directives, forms and reports. They typically serve the senior officers, specifically the commanding officers.

 

Hospital Corpsmen are medical professionals who provide health care to service people and their families. They serve as pharmacy technicians, medical technicians, nurses’ aides, physicians’ or dentist's assistants, battlefield medics, and more. All work falls into several categories: first aid and minor surgery, patient transportation, patient care, prescriptions and laboratory work, food service inspections, and clerical duties. Though generally they operate within the purview of the Chief Medical Officer, they are contained within the Administrative Command Division

 

- Technical Engineering and Operational Support Division - NCO and Enlisted crew in this division of the roster serve in a variety of support roles. These crewmen have a variety of roles directly related to operation and maintenance of the ship, and are broadly under the direction of the Chief of Engineering. Some of the subdivisions within this department are:

 

Damage Controlmen perform the work necessary for damage control, ship stability and fire-fighting. They instruct personnel in damage control and repair damage-control equipment and systems.

 

Engineman are responsible for the maintenance and aide in the operation of both standard impulse fusion reactors and the M/AM reactor systems; they also aide in the maintenance of any number of support systems.

 

Hull Maintenance Technicians are responsible for maintaining ships' hulls, fittings, piping systems and machinery. They install and maintain all shipboard and shore based plumbing and piping systems. They look after a vessel's safety and survival equipment and perform many tasks related to damage control.

 

- Air Group Support Division - NCO and Enlisted crew in this division of the roster serve in number of support roles. As per Starfleet regulations, pilot must be certified to fly any vessel and typically are officers, and typically support is provided by the Technical Engineering or Administrative Command divisions. However, within the operation of certain vessels, like the Excalibur, or station based operations which carry a large number of support craft, high volume flight operations and support warrant a separate division. These crewmen serve generally under the direction of the CAG or Chief of the Air Group, though in operational management, they work closely with the Technical Engineering and Operations Support division. Some roles within this division are:

 

Aviation Boatswain's Mates are responsible for spacecraft launch and landing gear and barricades. They operate fuel transfer systems, as well as direct craft on the flight deck and in hangar bays before launch and after recovery. They position spacecraft and operate support equipment used to start aircraft.

 

Air-Traffic Controllers assist with the speedy flow of air traffic by directing and controlling aircraft. They operate field lighting systems and communicate with aircraft. They furnish pilots with information regarding traffic, navigation and spatial conditions, as well as operate and adjust approach systems and interpret targets on radar screens and plot aircraft positions.

 

Aviation Structural Mechanics are responsible for the maintenance of spacecraft parts. They maintain and repair safety equipment and hydraulic systems. In general, they are in charge of all repair work to support craft aboard a ship or station.

 

Aviation Ordnancemen operate and handle aviation ordnance equipment. They are responsible for the maintenance of guns, bombs, torpedoes, rockets, and missiles stowed aboard support craft. Their duties include the stowing, issuing, and loading of munitions and small arms for pilots.

 

- Scientific Research Support Division - NCO and Enlisted crew in this division of the roster serve in a variety of support roles. Starfleet ships are typically a floating laboratory conducting any number of scientific experiments on a daily basis. While most of this research is carried out by officers, who typically hold advanced degrees in their field of study, technical and clerical support for these missions are provided by enlisted crew. This division is overseen by the Director of Scientific Research and the Chief Science Officer.

 

Labtechs provide crucial assistance in scientific research, helping to carry out and detail laboratory work aboard a starship. They additionally can be called upon for away missions involving their area of work. Also, labtechs aide and assist in the maintenance of laboratory equipment.

 

Clerical Assistants perform tasks similar to those of the Yeoman from the Administrative Command division, but work solely for the researchers of the Science Department, aiding them in their efforts.

 

- Marine Division – With the expansion of the Starfleet Marine Corps, there has come a number of new roles aboard Federation Starships in regards to this division. Typically, the bulk of the Marine Deployment aboard a starship will be enlisted crew, and while Marine officers can serve in any branch of starships operational needs, enlisted marines are more limited in their roles. Typically, they serve in direct support roles to the Marine Mission. As such they lack specific specializations and generally serve as security and support on outbound missions. Marines may be called upon to fulfill any number of mission requirements and must be among the most flexible department aboard a starship or station. Enlisted Marines have a separate chain of command from other Enlisted and NCO crew aboard a starship as do their officers. Depending on the size of the deployment, the Marine detachment aboard a starship is under the direction of the highest ranking officer, typically a Colonel or Major and under the supervision of the Commanding Officer of the vessel.

 

Logs

Excalibur: Lower Decks is a message-board based simulation, running plots roughly parallel to the plot of the main Excalibur simulation. However, a key difference is in the plot structure and game play. Players are expected to post their contributions in the form of message board posts. In general the style for this is a hybrid between what we call “play-by-one-thought-posts” and a more detailed, thought out process. Essentially, we aim to create a mosaic of short-story style logs that will give a wider picture of life aboard a starship from an enlisted point-of-view. While this does not mean that there will not be, from time to time, more classic elements of play-by-forum, they will not be the norm. As such, the typical log writing types applicable to a regular advanced simulation continue to apply, here are some general ideas:

 

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: Lower Deck 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, you might also want to check out the “Special Section | Camelot: Twilight of Empires” for an idea of the general expectations of game play.

 

All logs should be posted to the Excalibur: Lower Decks boards. This 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 POST THREADS WHICH WILL AFFECT THE SHIP WITHOUT THE CO OR AND XO’S APPROVAL. DO NOT POSTS THREADS 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. 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 the course of a plot to ensure that everyone is on the same page.

 

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.

 

The nature of E:LD creates a number of situations where a player may create several NPC’s for player interaction, please note that it is not acceptable to use someone else’s NPC without their permission. NPC’s should be considered an extension of the player for this purpose.

 

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: Lower Decks, 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: Lower Decks 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: Lower Decks’ 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. Now you have an additional challenge of involving yourself in a plot, but must do so with even less GM-interaction due to the nature of PBF. 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: Lower Decks missions are generally series of problems to be solved. You have the one central problem (the officers are conducting first contact with a new species how can we help them get the ship ready?) 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. On Excalibur, using forcefields to seal off the ship would be a perfect example... forcefields aren’t in use on starships yet. 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. And there are always practical alternatives to using forcefields.

 

- 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 V.C. Andrews book.

-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.

 

- 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.

 

 

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The USS Excalibur: Lower Decks is a sim of Star Fleet Simulation Forum. This document is an internal policy packet intended only for the Excalibur: Lower Decks simulation. The command staff of the Excalibur: Lower Decks reserves the right to modify this document without notification.

I am an idiot. :D The awards were given out... I forgot to post them. They'll be updated shortly with the winners. However, in the interest of not looking completely foolish, there will be a new award given out, stay tuned for details.

Only Six months late, here's the list of *last* year's awards. Winners will be announced at next week's game.

 

The Excalibur Command Staff is pleased to announce that the following Awards will be presented to members of the Excalibur crew for the 2007 Year.

 

Excalibur Starburst of Excellence:

Awarded yearly to the simmer who most exemplifies the Excalibur mission; contributing logs, attendance, and overall excellence in play. To be selected by the command team.

 

The recipient of the Starburst is Victria!

 

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.

 

The recipient of the Xavier Stamina Medal is Laarell Teykier!

 

Captain’s Quill and PADD Award:

Awarded yearly for the best log, or best series of logs; given by Captain Ah-Windu Corizon.

 

The recipients of the Quill and Padd award are Sorehl and Tandaris Admiran!

 

Meritorious Achievement Award:

Awarded to the simmers for excellence in log writing. To be selected by the command team.

 

The recipients of the Merit Award are as follows:

 

Atticus Segami

Laarell Teykier

Dox Maturin

Sorehl

Victria

Left Ear JoNs

Ah Windu Corizon

Tia

Marius trLorin

Mreh Khal

Alexander Zier

Maria Zier

 

Nice work everyone!

Sweat rolled down his back, and his silver hair matted against his skin. The gym was fairly busy and the smell of hot bodies filled his nostrils and his heart pounded in his chest as his cross-training program continued to run.

 

Working out was the only sensible solution for the frustrations building in his brain. His body, however, was in full protest at what was now a two-hour workout session.

 

The terrain changed slightly beneath him and he willed his legs to work harder. They responded in protestation with a burning akin to acid being dumped on soft, milky skin. He pressed harder in spite. Finally, they responded, but only grudgingly.

 

His heart pounded and his mind focused not on the problems of command, politics and the universe, but simply on surviving the hell its owner was putting it through. It didn’t like it either.

 

The terrain changed again. A steep grade rose on the cross trainer, and even the nimble Dameon took a few moments to adjust to keep from falling. His brain screamed as the workload increased -- who hell programmed in a climb up Mountain Selya!

 

The burning sensation in his legs had now been joined by a similar, though more acute, pain in his lungs as blood vessels ruptured under the strain and his nervous system cried out in organized panic.

 

Blood rushed through his blood vessels at a frantic pace, desperately trying to feed oxygenated blood to the muscle cells that were working overtime.

 

Corizon pushed on, willing his legs even harder. They screamed again in protest and felt heavy as lead. Yet they obeyed. They had little choice other than to do as they were commanded. They were but tools in a larger system, and should they stop… the whole system would break down. If the legs stopped, would not the heart?

 

The heat was getting to him and the form-fitting, sleeveless, gray work out tunic was shortly lying near the cross trainer, discarded. The lithe, smooth muscles of his chest and abdomen glistened under the lights. The dorsal muscles of his back gleamed as the tightened under the stress.

 

For an ancient commander, one of the young ensigns doing his PT thought to himself, Corizon was in awfully good shape.

 

The cross trainer finally halted the brutal assault upon his body and his muscles gave a relaxing cry, though they were going to protest any further movement for the remainder of the day and maybe week if he wasn’t good to them. His brain, though tired, was just glad it didn’t have to consider any further matters of deep philosophy for the rest of the day as the agenda for the rest of the evening appeared to be a shower, dinner and bed.