Cptn Corizon

Note: The Recon teams have been at the base for some two days longer than the Excalibur.

Giiick’jeeek’haka’ticccc stood silently in the “open space” observatory of the aft section of the G’Jak battlestar Blood Cull. “Open Space” had always seemed somewhat amusing to him, considering that the room was little more than a lounge with force fields separating the vacuum from the oxygenated atmosphere of the vessel. None the less, he enjoyed his time in the room as it gave him clarity of thought that was difficult to obtain elsewhere aboard the spidery-looking vessels.

The subtle vibrations of the wall behind him reconfiguring itself to allow entrance caused him to focus two of six eyes on the approaching figure.

“Your highness,” the clicking, sounds coming from the tall, slender Lepratus Scorpiad who approached him equated to. “I trust you do not mind the intrusion?”

Giiick’jeeek’haka’ticccc (or as it was normalized for those species lacking mandible, Gy-kjek’Hktic) lifted an arm and motioned his advisor to come more fully into the room. “Of course not,” he clicked out, still keeping his primary focus on the streaming stars. “You have served my family longer than most of them have been alive.”

Jahggg-ik’Tahkkkkken`naikkk (Jhag-k’Tahk-nk) made the Scorpiad equivalent of a nod and approached alongside the black-bodied Emri Prince, taking up a position just in the comfortable visible range of his primary visual centers. “I’ve spoken with your hatch-brother,” he said. “The situation has not changed.”

That didn’t come as a surprise to the Emri who simply clicked his acknowledgement.

“When a situation like this arises,” Jhag-k’Tahk-nk continued, “where none of the survivors of the Emperor are from the crown brood-hatch, succession becomes… muddled. Usually it has been resolved by the Council, but we’ve never had a situation quite like this one…”

“You mean our Empire has never stood on the brink of collapse, gasping for breath and lacking a leader?”

“I see you inherited your mother’s directness with words,” the elder Scorpiad noted, rather proudly, having tutored both the young Emri and his mother. “But yes. The Council could spend nearly half a cycle sorting out these issues…”

“We do not have that sort of time…”

“Clearly.”

“Then what is to happen? Are we to simply grope with our claws and cauda in the darkness while the Eratians and Al-Ucard openly defy us…”

“There is an option?”

Gy-kjek’Hktic finally turned all of his eyes upon the male next to him. “Yes?”

“It would be a rare precedent,” he said soberly. “But if all from your brood-hatch, the second of the Emperor’s seven, would agree to name one of you as your leader, it would be difficult to dispute this claim.”

“I think the sands of Arcahanis will freeze over before that happens…”

“Would you have your brood-hatch be the one to end our Empire?”

“Our Empire has long been in decline,” Gy-kjek’Hktic said bitterly. “I hardly doubt we will be remembered as the catalyst to its fall…”

“Perhaps,” the long lived Lepterus said, thoughtfully. “But never the less you and your brood have an opportunity here to save the Empire from a protracted internal conflict.”

“And which of us would rise to the occasion? Hmm?

“Cek-ka? Or Tiiiiehka? Myself?”

A long pause followed by several non-committal clicks emanated from Jhag-k’Tahk-nk. He considered his next clicks carefully. “Aeiiik’Jghgkkc”

Another long pause followed. “What you’re suggesting is…”

“I know…”

“An Empress?”

“She is the eldest of your brood,” his mentor said. “She has been tutored by the finest of our scholars, she has extensive knowledge of our history, a passion for our people…”

“The Council will not support this…”

“On the contrary, only a few more of your brood-hatch need to consent…”

“You know her better than I,” the Emri Prince said resignedly. “Can she lead the Empire through this darkness?”

“I would not be advising you to support her if I did not think so…”

“Very well then, you may let it know I will support this action, though I am not sure anyone can save us from this darkness.”

"We can only hope for the best..."

I'm a mog, half man, half dog. I'm my own best friend.

Some of us *are* Canine. TYVM :)

As for me... let's see:

The Dameon's are my own, Rihannsu, Elasian and Catullan are TOS; Bajoran, Arzaban are DS9; Risan is TNG; the rest have been humans.

Darkness engulfed the forward observation lounge. It was quiet. Granted at 0200, the lounge usually wasn’t the most active place in the world, even when the ship was on standard duty. Nothing was standard at the moment, however. The Excalibur limped along at Warp 2, taking extra care as every little blip in subspace seemed to break something. What was going to be a challenging mission--scouting a rough and tumble alien base with dozens of unknown races, where law and order was only a few steps past anarchy--had suddenly become something more important. Now their mission to the base was going to be a full on layover as Excalibur’s engineers scrapped together materials to rebuild the field coils, and the various departments resupplied the ship.

Standing alone in the lounge, Captain Ah-Windu Corizon sighed heavily. He’d watched the teams leave for their missions from the lounge, remaining long after pondering the merit of their mission. It was if a sudden, cataclysmic reaction had occurred in his psyche. While he’d never been comfortable with this mission--he still couldn’t quite stomach the thought of helping prolong the Dominion’s totalitarian rule over billions of individuals--the mounting toll on his crew had started to join the festering questions on his conscience.

The Federation stood for liberty of all individuals, not just those lucky enough to be born in the embrace of the Federation. Peoples from across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants, some of whom had been the fiercest of rivals, had laid down their lives side by side each other to prevent the spread of tyranny and oppression during the Dominion War; now, because it was politically convenient, those same brave souls were being asked to work alongside the very people whom they’d once fought against to help continue their domination of lesser races. In a word, it was disturbing.

Corizon had always considered himself a servant of the Federation. It was his duty to carry out the will of Starfleet Command and by extension, the Federation Council, not to question his orders. In the past, that seemed easier. In the past, it was a requirement for his position. During his occasional stints of fieldwork, he had to rely on trusting his orders. If he stopped to question them, he’d likely end up dead. He told himself it was better that way, that even though some of the decisions that were made, some of his actions, were morally questionable, they were made in the best interest of the Federation. Now he wasn’t sure.

It was true that this mission was mostly his own doing. After all, he’d been the one to promise assistance in locating the Founder’s to secure the aide of the Dominion in recapturing the wormhole. Looking back, he should have told them to go straight to hell; but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d agreed to do the ‘diplomatic’ thing and offer the Federation’s assistance in locating the Founder’s.

Morally, ethically, he still hadn’t been able to savvy that decision. True, it was in-line with the Federation’s position of mutual cooperation towards peace, and it offered an opportunity to strengthen the relationship between the former foes if the Excalibur succeeded in returning the Gods to Olympus. On the other hand, it was decidedly – uncomfortable - for the Federation to simultaneously say they didn’t approve of totalitarian dictators while helping prop up a failing theocratic oligarchy that’d seen her better days come and go.

In the past, these questions were easier to rationalize, to validate. After all, only he had to live with the guilt, and only he had to pay the occasional ethical and physical price. Maybe that was why he’d started having the thoughts that were forming in his brain; it was not just him who now had to live with the problems, might have to pay a price in blood. And as the toll on his crew grew, as the number of letters he wrote to loved ones mounted, it was becoming glaringly apparent to him that this mission wasn’t kosher. Starfleet Officers should not be asked to die for a mission counter to the ideals that they swore to protect.

What was he to do? He was a soldier. For all Starfleet’s trappings as an explorative body, they still maintained military tradition and duties. If you were given an order, you were expected to follow it. Question it sure; note, heavily, your protestations, but carry out the orders. Soldiers weren’t to be politicians. The moment the military dictated political policy, was the moment the door was thrown wide for the rise of a dictatorship.

It left him in a delicate position. If he were to no further violate his principal of non-interference in politics (which had already been strained near breaking point), he had to complete his mission, even if he deeply opposed it. That brought about his conundrum; if he didn’t believe in the mission, how could he expect his crew too?

All of the excogitation he’d done had not brought him any closer to a riposte that satisfied him. Was it enough that he had these thoughts? Could he continue to bury them deeply enough to hide them from the crew? Again the answers seemed just out of his reach.

Darkness pervaded the room and his thoughts. At some point in the very near future, he feared, he would have to answer those questions, and when he did… he might not like the way they blanks were filled in.

The turbolift doors opened--or at least, attempted to open. Damage to the ship's computer core had caused the secondary systems--turbolifts, replicators, transporters, etc.--to go haywire. The turbolift doors opened fully, closed, then opened again halfway. Tandaris sighed and pried open the doors. He took a deep breath, then exited onto the bridge, marching dramatically over to the door to Corizon's ready room, an item in hand. He pressed the chime on the side of the door--nothing. Suppressing another sigh of annoyance, Tandaris knocked.

Corizon looked up from his desk. He'd been expecting Tandaris Admiran; it must have been him, or some equally disaffected crewmember. "Come," he said, louder than normal.

The doors opened properly this time. Tandaris marched into the room, up to Corizon's desk, whereon he dropped the item he had been holding. It was a twisted, burnt out, unrecognizable dongle. And it was still smoking. Tandaris sat down, made himself comfortable, and waited.

The Dameon blinked a few times, wondering if the object was going to leave a mark. "I assume," he said finally, dryly. "I shouldn't mark down the new damage on my desktop on my damage report to engineering?"

"I should hope that you have become used to your share of battle scars," Tandaris replied.

"So," he said motioning to the object. "I assume you were trying to make a point?"

"Naturally. I wouldn't damage a perfectly good dongle otherwise."

"Then make your point, Commander."

Tandaris leaned forward in his chair, fingers interlaced, and said, "The ship works better when it isn't damaged. My engineers work better when they don't have to spend their time repairing damage caused by pyrotechnical displays of prowess."

"I am sure it they do and it does," Corizon said with a toothy smile. "However, I fail to see your point."

"Humans have an interesting expression ... 'would you like the good news or the bad news first'?"

Corizon was more than familiar with the phrase. He frowned slightly, his smile fading. "The good."

Tandaris' expression changed to a pleasant, content smile. "Oh, well then," he said, his demeanour improving, "you'll be pleased to know that the impulse engines are fine. And we still have warp power. Most of the primary phaser arrays are undamaged, as are the torpedo tubes. The somewhat unreliable appearance of the secondary systems"--he gestured to the lights overhead, which had become crossed with the subspace transceiver and were now flickering in time to the peaks of comsic background radiation picked up by the ship--"is only temporary. Oh, and I had a delightful peanut butter and jam sandwich for lunch."

"Good to hear," Corizon said dubiously, "and the bad?"

A shadow darkened Tandaris' face. "We have warp power. Warp drive is a different matter. Five of the warp coils in the port nacelle fused during the battle. I can bypass them, but we can't exceed warp three without risking a nacelle imbalance. Also, an EPS grid overload has catastrophically damaged the shield generators for the port side of decks 2-8. We won't have any shields in that area until I can recalibrate the other generators to compensate for the hole--and that is a temporary solution that weakens the overall strength of the shields."

Corizon's face went flushly white. "So... what does that mean?"

"It means that I need the resources and staff of a spacedock to replace the coils, repair the nacelle, and install new shield generators."

Closing his eyes, he put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "The nearest friendly facility is...Satarimi... but it would take us weeks at warp three...."

Tandaris nodded. He did not like the situation into which--as he saw it--Corizon had gotten them, nor did he enjoy having to constantly patch up the damage these conflicts caused the Excalibur. But he did not want the ship to suffer any more than it had to, and he did not want to see the mission fail. "There may be another option ... an alternative to replacing the coils. But it would be a long shot, and it's risky."

A little brighter. "Yes?"

"We would have to come to a full stop, then perform a complete shut down of the warp core and vent all of our plasma. Then, a shuttle would remove the fused coils from the port nacelle and the counterpart, undamaged coils from the starboard nacelle. This would decrease the total number of coils but keep a parity. As long as we are careful to monitor the warp field, we could probably get warp 6, maybe even warp 7 for a short time."

"Like... how long?"

Tandaris ticked off the procedures on his fingers while focusing on a corner of the ready room. "Shutdown would take about an hour and a half. We have to purge the nacelles of any plasma to avoid accidental ignition by the shuttle thrusters. Removal of the coils would take about ten hours. After that time, we could restore main power and continue moving at sublight. I would need another three to five hours to recalibrate and test the warp drive before we could use it again."

"And how far and how long would this last us?"

Adjusting his focus from the corner to Corizon himself, Tandaris smiled wryly and replied, "That depends on how much you expect to do. Theoretically we could operate with the reduced coils indefinitely, although I'd recommend against that, as there's a reason we've got so many as it is. Every system on the ship has been calibrated to operate with a certain number of coils, a warp field of a certain magnitude and geometry. So we could complete our mission in this area of space, but as soon as that is finished, I would have to insist we put in at a dock and get the coils properly replaced."

"That might be problematic," Corizon said, a pressure forming between his temples. "What are the chances of you finding a compatible set of coils at the base we were headed towards?"

"I thought about that. We can actually repair the damaged coils ourselves -- new ones would be better, but the damaged ones are salvageable. What we need is a supply of verterium cortenide and the tools offered by a starship service dock."

A heavy sigh escaped the Captain's lips as all the plans they'd made during the trip so far went up in smoke. "Then I don't think we have many options. Get everything ready, we'll start limping our way to port."

"Yes, sir." Tandaris got up and was about to leave when he stopped, turned around, and said, "You know, we used to have a cloaking device to avoid precisely this sort of situation."

"Yes," Corizon said. "But the Romulans didn't give us a new one. But by all means, if you want to buy one... go right ahead. I am sure you'll be able to find one of those just... laying around."

The sarcasm hung heavy in the air between them. But Tandaris seemed to take the advice to heart and nodded thoughtfully. "Anything else, Captain?"

"As a reward," Corizon said finally letting a brief smile reform on his lips. "I have a case of Altarian whisky hidden away in the cargo bays... it's labeled as bio-hazard or something like that... get yourself and your staff a bottle of it."

Tandaris allowed himself a smile as well. "I'll be sure to put it to good use."

"See that you do."

Caitians are a predator species, as established in TAS and various novels/comics/FASA and Decipher role playing books. Any tribal culture/warrior culture ideals are from my own little brain.

 

I have never played Left Ear JoNs as dark, violent, or on steroids, and I do resent the warp factor shot between the eyes commentary. I participated in a joint log with Maria Zier's player where Lefty held the womans little baby - the baby had not one claw mark on her. I have played her as a straight and narrow (possibly to a fault) by the book Caitian officer.

 

The whole point of these sims is to have a diverse group of officers.

 

Thank you, but do not presume to tell me about how I play my characters or project my ideas. Big time assumption.

I will agree with that. Corizon, for all of his surly, abrasiveness has never actually raised claw one to one of his crewmembers. Ethically, he's willing to dip a little more into gray matters, and he is a well trained combatant whose spent the better part of the last ten years doing undercover work, but that's also ignoring the fact that he's spent years training his mind through meditation. Yes he's a warrior, but he's also a poet, musician and artist. He's also a very well educated academic, who's spent more time in the classroom than the war room. And in reality, Tia might find that he and she don't have that many uncommon features. She did the Vulcan Kha'wahn (sp) where she ventured through the Forge to train her mental abilities and purge herself of emotions. Corizon, when he was even younger (14-15) spent nearly a year doing what Dameon's call the "Nagghj-ka" or simply, the Trial. During the Trial, he spent months in the wilderness in the high mountain peaks learning to survive on his own, living in harmony with nature and to find the mental peace and stability that would allow him to become a strong warrior. Is he a diplomat? No, but he'll tell you straight to his face he's not. Is he a warmongering renegade who shots at everything that moves? No. Traditionally do I think Starfleet would have sent someone more like Picard on the mission we're on? Likely. But, given the mission profile (it's classified), not many people know the area, and he's already made contacts within the Dominion, are there many other choices? Not really.

And to a great extent, I think Corizon's been rather... measured in his responses and actions during this current mission. Upon contacting the HaVorante, we sent science teams down to learn more about them and how they connected to the history of the Dominion. Heck, when they held our people, instead of storming the castle we sent Lexin with some security to talk them into releasing the prisoners. Instead of going off on some holy crusade of revenge against the Blood Cult, he's content to let that go and attempt to make contact with them at a better time. We spent nearly four whole days doing cultural exchanges with the Satarimi, instead of saying "he give us this" and moving on. When the Boganary issue came up, he made it clear he didn't like what they were doing, but there aren't many choices and he has his orders. Which is a worse officer, the officer who will not follow orders at all, or the one who will respectfully degree and carry out his mission while hoping to minimize the damage done and open the best chances of exploration. It's not as if we can simply hold up a big sign to these people and say "Hey which one of you has the Crownstone and how much will you pay for it?" We know very little about these people, and we've acted in a manner that will provide us a) a chance at exploring b ) possibly offer us a peaceful solution and c ) will hopefully minimize the damage we can do if we are forced to take more forceful measures.

Using the Boganary as example, talking to those people wasn't going to work. They don't value peace, plain and simple and anyone who'd looked over their cultural file we were given from the Satarimi would have seen that. If the duty of starship Captain is the welfare of his crew, then he must act in a manner to protect his crew. Did Corizon act completely in the right? No. The idea is that we're imperfect beings and that we make the wrong choices from time to time.

To address the larger issue, I don't think violence has largely shown to resolve our conflicts, in fact it's only shown to complicate the situation. Again there's a level of reality here, is every situation going to be resolved by talking something out? No. Is every conflict going to resolve by shooting someone, hell no.

And for the record saying that a warrior shouldn't be a warrior is just as ethnocentric as saying a pacifist shouldn't be a pacifist and strictly against what the Federation is supposed to be. The Federation is, to use a modern term, a big-tent. It has both conservatives and liberals, pacifists and warriors. The idea is not that the entire Federation is in lock-step with one another, but that they can come together to resolve these issues through peace and democracy. The Federation stands for the free flow of information and the harmonious existence of multiple values. Forcing the value of "pacifism" upon a culture, or excluding that culture from the Federation is no more noble, no more free than a culture that simply conquers everything in its path with ships and guns. It's tyranny in a velvet glove, but tyranny all the same.

A point I've tried to make is that Federation is largely different from what it was during the height of TNG. The Borg, the Dominion, as Joy noted, have changed it. It's had to be more martial to survive, the officers who lived through that are going to have a different approach to how they do things than say, Picard did. Does that mean there isn't room for someone who feels differently? IMO, No. In fact, I've always felt there wasn't enough of that to balance, for example, Corizon's tendency to be more martial.

Personally I feel assumptions are being made about how plots are going to be resolved. As far as I am concerned, the only thing set in stone right now is that we're going to see what we can find about the Crownstone, now how we're going to go about retrieving it, if we decide to... is an open book. The problem often is that those with alternatives aren't willing to speak up in a manner that's frankly apropos. Remember, I am not Corizon and I have different sets of values and ideas, and how I would react to a situation is very different. I think he's a security-minded, trigger-happy ass, but if no one gives him alternatives, in manner that is realistic (e.g. yelling at him on the bridge in the middle of a conflict is not going to make him want to do anything differently, but speaking to him in private might), he's not going to change how he does business.

A good example of this was a few plot lines ago when Corizon was prepared to deploy a sub-space weapon to prevent the Scorpiads from entering the Alpha Quadrant. While he was morally, ethically, and legally within his rights to do so, when he was offered a sensible alternative by Sorehl to accomplish his goal of protecting the Alpha Quadrant without using such drastic measures, he took them.

Out of character, that was a case of where I went with something I didn't plan. From that perspective, I will tell you I am pretty much open to changing where we go with a plot if you can set it up so that the characters can realize there's a better course of action.

Starfleet is, at it's core, a military organization for the most part, but does have strong mission component of diplomacy and scientific research. I would think that "conscientious objectors," those of a truly pacifist nature, would not be put in situations where combat was going have a high probability of occurring (IE: Patrolling areas where there could be piracy, etc) but instead placed in positions aboard those vessels whose roles are strictly non-combatant, like Medical ships, planetary research bases, science research bases (like Jupiter Station), and strict science vessel like an Oberth or a Nova.

The idea that only those races who "reject conflict" could join the Federation is, frankly, very narrow-minded and the anti-thesis of what the Federation is supposed to be. Quite the opposite in fact. In my opinion the only qualifier for conflict should be that force is used as a last option, and only in defense. The Federation has never, in any version, been toothless or unable to defend itself. The reality is that while the peoples of the Federation can come to agreements over stark differences without using force, not every race in the galaxy is going to play nice in the sandbox. Some people are simply going to want to kill you, no matter how good a Picard-esque overture you deliver to them. In those cases, you must aspire to remain true to the ideals that diplomacy will never be off the table; that the Federation stands for individual liberty, freedom and justice, and will fight to protect those values when attacked. As the Excalibur motto says: We bring peace by the sword, but peace only under liberty. Or, if you want to look even further back, Aristotle said that "we make war, so that we may live in peace."

One of the things Star Trek did not do well, and it's really a nature of the beast, is seemed to portray that large gaps in philosophical approaches between different cultures could be abridged in only a mater of an hour with a few well delivered speeches or the actions of a valiant crew. The reality is very different. Foreign policy is dictated, among other things, by the perceptions a group has formed about another group. Take for example the Scorpiads. During their conflict with the Dominion and their collateral conflict with the Alpha Quadrant powers, they had perceived the Federation as a non-factor. Almost like an infection that simply needed taken care of. Because they didn't hold the same perception, or values that Federation holds, they were unlikely to seek diplomatic contact with the Federation, despite our best efforts. (I don't think they even responded to a single hail.) Overtime, and through conflict, they have started to see the wisdom of diplomatic relations with the Federation. The same basic principals have been around for a long time. If you want to look at TOS, the Klingons and Federation couldn't even be on the same station without nearly killing each other because they had such fundamentally opposed views of how things should be done. It was only due to the intervention of a third party (the Orgonians) that averted war between them.

Kennedy said famously that the unfortunate fact is that to make peace we must prepare for war. Starfleet's mission is two fold, it must simultaneously protect the Federation, and also help advance the Federation. Its a fine balance between the two, and as the Federation is operated by imperfect people, they might not always succeed in finding the right balance. The hope is that, in the end, the better angels of our nature will prevail.

I believe the term is "Vapor wear."

The Trek MMO is almost on par with "Duke Nukem Forever"

Insurrection was different from that particular episode Cuda. The Prime Directive does not apply to warp-capable worlds. Also, that episode was about 10-15 years before Insurrection. Time changes things. Perhaps in retrospect he couldn't do that again? And as someone noted, Starfleet had already mucked with the planet in the first place. I thought it was very much Picard to save the Baku.

I swear officers, I haven't been drinking... much.

Because not every Academy GM remembers to do one :)

Awww, Marky doesn't like Vicky's new knecking buddy.

Commander Notez, House of Haradrium, stood atop the bridge of his flagship Black Blood. The streaming stars around the dagger-shaped black-hulled ship slowed to a relative stop. From the viewer, his pale eyes watched as brilliant pink-purple rays filled with anti-gravitons struck their targets, exploding them on impact. On the wings of the Black Blood, the two smaller Hunter-class escorts opened fire on the offending Scorpiad transports.

A thin smile crossed the pale lips of the Commander as he watched the explosions of the Scorpiad transports and their attendant escorts. They'd never seen it coming. Then just as quickly as they'd came, bringing death on their wake, the sleek black ships under his command jumped back to warp, leaving a trail of fire behind them.

“Another success, Commander,” the tactical officer Lieutenant Jonal said with satisfaction. “The bastards didn't even have time to raise their stingers...”

Notez, though pleased, was more muted in his response. “In deed, a great victory for our people. Keep us on course for our next target.”

The attack marked the fourth for the raiding group led by Notez. It was part of a much wider campaign the Rebel forces had begun in an effort to cripple the Scorpiad militarily. Though they'd had some successes in direct combat, notably the major victory over a Scorpiad sector fleet at Kahin, the Scorpiads swift, deadly response at Salin had shown them that direct combat needed to be limited. The Scorpiads had kept many of their most deadly toys in reserve during the Dominon War, but now that the Al-Ucard and Eratian threatened the stability of the Empire as a whole, the mostly deadly venom of the Scorpiads was being brought down on the insurgents.

That had left them with little choice. They could not win a direct fight, yet, but they also had to find away to slow the Scorpiads down. The answer was obvious—deprive them of the fuel for the war machine. That was the only hope of victory, Notez just hoped it worked or the lives of billions would be lost to sate the lust of the Scorpiads.

This board is designed a location for the special mission, Camelot: Twilight of Empires. What follows are the stories of the brave souls who, despite the odds, fight for peace in the Gamma Quadrant.

Camelot: Twilight of Empires, is a special production of the USS Excalibur simulation, and is produced by the players of that game under the Direction of STSF Corizon and STSF JoNs. For more information, contact either of the hosts.

Current: 5.9.11

Guide:

Denotes LOA

+= NPC

*= Excalibur Starburst of Excellence

^= Crispin Xavier Stamina Award

&= Captain's Quill and PADD Award

(!) = Order of the Round Table

--

Command Division: This division is lead by the command staff and contains the enlisted division of Administrative Command. All Departments ultimately report to this division. It is led by the Commanding Officer. In addition key functions normally termed "Operations" such as communications and navigation, fall under this division. Tactical, which handles weapons control and defensive systems operation, also works nominally within this department to operate communications equipment. Essentially, the Executive officer functions as the 'Chief of Operations,' and coordinates the cross-department functions of bridge and ship operations.

Commanding Officer- Captain Asher Swain (!)

Executive Officer- Commander Ruth "Rue" Wydown (!)

Helm/Navigation- OPEN

Operations- Lieutenant, J.G. Faeona (Fae) Waters

Tactical- Rotated Through Security

--

Engineering: This division is tasked with the maintenance and operation of the vessel's systems. As a unit, they contain the enlisted division of Technical Engineering and Operations Support, and they work closely with the Air Group. The unit is led by the Chief of Engineering.

Chief of Engineering- Commander Tandaris Admiran *&(!)

Assistant Engineer- Lieutenant Commander Marius tr'Lorin*

Assistant Engineer- Ensign Sean Howard^&(!)

Assistant Engineer- OPEN

Assistant Engineer- OPEN

--

Medical: This division's task is obvious—the care and welfare of the crew. In practice, the medical division works closely with all departments, but particularly with science when dealing with threats to the ship, or new problems that may arise in a given mission. There is no dedicated enlisted division that coincides with Medical, however the grade of Medtech and Hospital Corpsmen within the Administrative Command division function under the de facto leadership of the Chief Medical Officer. Within the department there are various subsections, such as Chief Surgeon, or Chief Counselor, however, all of these sub-department heads report directly to the CMO.

Chief Medical Officer- Lieutenant Commander Maryse Dubois (!)

Assistant Medical Officer- OPEN

Assistant Medical Officer- OPEN

Assistant Medical Officer- OPEN

Counselor- OPEN

--

Security: Protecting the vessel from all threats is the most important, but not only, role the Security division plays aboard a starship. They function as not only a military police, but also serve as the ships first line of defense and work closely with the Marine division during ground operations.

Chief Security Officer- Lieutenant Commander Mark Garrison ^^^&(!)

Assistant Security Officer- Lieutenant Victria *&&&(!)

Assistant Security Officer- Lieutenant, J.G. Charlotte A. Matsumura *&

Assistant Security Officer- OPEN

Assistant Security Officer- OPEN

--

Science: Possibly the most diverse group aboard any starship, the Science department serves a vital roll in the Federation's primary mission of exploration. Officer's in this department work closely with the Command division to help solve problems the ship encounters, as well as conducts research of its own, often in concert with civilian scientists stationed aboard the ship. Science is headed by the Chief Science Officer who usually also holds the title of 'Director of Scientific Research,' though not by default.

Chief Science Officer- Commander Laarell Teykier ^^^&(!)

Assistant Science Officer- Lieutenant Elizabeth Anne Clarke

Assistant Science Officer- OPEN

Assistant Science Officer- OPEN

Assistant Science Officer- OPEN

Head of Geological Sciences- Commander Kahrak (Secondary Shift Science Officer)

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310th Fighter Squadron: Aboard some ships and stations, such as the Excalibur, there is a dedicated 'air' group. In those situations, all secondary craft and their operations fall under the direct supervision of the Squadron commander, nominally titled 'Chief of the Air Group' or CAG.

Chief of the Air Group- OPEN

Pilot- OPEN

Pilot- OPEN

Pilot- OPEN

Pilot- Ensign Jagrissa "Jumper" Honor-Scar (Utility Support Pilot)+

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Marines: With the expansion of the Starfleet Marine Corps, a number of new roles aboard Federation Starships in regards to this division have been created. Typically, the bulk of the Marine Deployment aboard a starship will be enlisted crew, while Marine officers serve in any branch of starships operational needs. Marines may be called upon to fulfill any number of mission requirements and must be among the most flexible departments aboard a starship or station. , the Marine detachment aboard a starship is under the direction of the highest ranking officer who rank, depending on the size of the deployment, is typically a Colonel or Major and under the supervision of the Commanding Officer of the vessel.

Marine CO- Major Cloud Makisu+

Senior NCO: Sargent Major Matt Morris+

Marine XO - OPEN

Marine - OPEN

Marine - OPEN

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Non-Classified

Captain's Yeoman- P.O. Odile Condacin+

Captain's Yeoman- P.O. Augustus Quintus+

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XLOA: Lieutenant Commander Marius tr'Lorin *(!)

Lieutenant, J.G. Asyle

Lieutenant, j.g. Doug.t

Nearly ten years have passed since the end of the Dominion War. The end of that conflict gave birth to an unprecedented level of cooperation between the Alpha and Gamma Quadrant, with the former adversaries joining together to build Camelot. A "shining beacon" in space, Camelot's mission is creation of a permanent base for the Alpha Quadrant powers in the Gamma Quadrant.

As Camelot began to take shape, the dream of peace seemed a far and distant reality. 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, the Scorpiads.

A race of ancient arachnids, the Scorpiads fought an ancient war with the Dominion nearly 10,000 years before that ended in stalemate. Weakened by war, internal dissensions the Scorpiads moved quickly to avenge old grudges. Conflict between the two empires quickly ensued. Initially limited to Dominion territory, the Alpha Quadrant powers were plunged abruptly into the conflict when the Scorpiad and their lieutenants the powerful, insectoid Eratians and the cunning, nightstalking Al-Ucard seized the wormhole.

The conflict culminated in the epic Battle of the Wormhole. The battle involved the largest number of vessels ever in a Federation involved battle including forces from the Dominion, separatist Hundred alongside forces from both the Gamma and Alpha Quadrant fleets of the Klingon and Romulan Empires and Starfleet pitted against the combined forces of the Scorpiads, Al-Ucard and Eratian main fleets. The result was a decisive victory for the Federation and her allies, returning access to the Alpha Quadrant and sending the Scorpiads into retreat.

In the wake of their defeat, and mounting pressure from within the Empire, the Federation brokered a cease-fire between the sides allowing the creation of an uneasy truce, inviting the Scorpiad to join the Camelot mission. The year’s long war has left both powers weakened and venerable: the Scorpiads face a rebellion from their once loyal lieutenants; while the Vorta Council struggles to keep order as group of changelings known as the Hundred challenge their authority with the intent to remake the Dominion on their own terms.

As the sun sets on these ancient Empires and the haze of twilight fills the Quadrant, Camelot and her crew strive to forge a lasting peace in the Quadrant.

Prospective Crew:

Thank you for your interest in the Excalibur simulation!

The Excalibur is one of the finest, longest-running games on the internet with over 14-years of gaming history. We have a diverse crew with players from all over the United States, Canada and even International simmers.

The mission of the Excalibur is simple: we strive to provide a diverse, energetic and fun environment for players of all ages to relax and enjoy themselves. We meet every week for about an hour starting at 10 PM EST on Sundays.

The story of the Excalibur, an Akira-class vessel, is as diverse and complex as her crew. Focused primarily in the Gamma Quadrant, the Excalibur is set nearly ten years after the end of the Dominion War. The end of the war has given birth to an unprecedented level of cooperation between the Alpha and Gamma Quadrant, with the former adversaries joining together to build Camelot.

The dream of peace, however, has yet to be realized. With the Founders in glorious isolation, as Odo attempts to save his people from themselves, the Dominion has fallen into chaos. The Vorta Council rules in proxy, but without the metaphorical ‘white’ of the Founders’ presence, their hold on power is tenuous. Meanwhile, in the dark heart of the Gamma Quadrant an ancient enemy of the Founders rose once more to challenge their old rivals.

A year’s long war has left both powers even weaker. The Scorpiads now face a rebellion from their once loyal lieutenants; while the Vorta Council struggles to keep order a group of changelings known as the Hundred have arisen to challenge their authority.

Starfleet has pushed beyond the boundaries of Dominion-controlled space, encountering new species, such as the Al-Ucard and Scorpiads—sometimes with devastating results. The bold crew of the Excalibur set out on a year long mission to locate a mysterious object that the Vorta Council hoped would put them back into contact with the Founders. The mission was a success as the crew, after months of searching, finally located the device but the results weren't what the Vorta hoped for and now they must face the reality that the Founders have left them to forge their own destiny.

We hope you will join us as we seek peace by the sword, but a peace only under liberty.

Sincerely,

Captain Ah-Windu Corizon

The subtle sound of water being moved only by telekinesis registered only barely in Corizon’s thought patterns. And though he smiled and appeared to be attentively watching the display of the Satarimi’s impressive mental prowess, he was lost deep in thought.

The meetings with the Satarimi Arch-Prime Council had gone well, better than he’d expected actually. He’d found them helpful, efficient and wise. They brought a depth to conversations he found missing from most that involved career politicians. They’d even managed to mostly neutralize the pompous exasperation of Lexin.

However, the information they’d imparted was much less agreeable. First there was the revelation that they did not possess the communicator or the knowledge of the whereabouts of the Founders. Not that he was entirely surprised; still it hadn’t stopped him from being mildly disappointed. Then came what they imparted about the Cult of Iyves, the people who’d exterminated an entire squadron of his fighter pilots just a few weeks prior.

From what he extrapolated, they were a group of, surprise, religious fanatics who worshiped the deity Iyves, whom demanded the sacrifice of blood. According the Satarimi, in actuality, the Cult used the blood of aliens for a host of genetic experiments for who knows what purposes. Worse, the Cult operated more heavily in the nearby sectors of space; where there was no single dominate power to keep them in check.

The more positive news, though, was that they rarely operated within Satarimi space, and that the Satarimi had located one of their primary operation centers; so if he wanted to go do some inspecting, he could. Another positive note was that the Satarimi believed they might have some records on the period of Dominion history in question. They’d been one of the few worlds that the Founders had willingly negotiated with, perhaps because they weren’t sure they could dominate them as they had just about everyone they encountered.

A downside there was that they would have to consult their historical archives, and how long that might take was ambiguous at best. At any rate, it had given him plenty to think about, and even though the rainshaping was spectacular, it wasn’t enough to draw his conscious thoughts from the revelations of the first day of talks.

The evening had begun to wind to a close, and members of the Excalibur crew were beginning to disperse. Silently, Corizon had slunk off to the transporter coordinated and headed back to the solace of his quarters. He had several dozen reports to file, and one to compile from his first day of meetings and another day loomed on the horizon.

There are worse things she could do...she could stay out every night...sleep around with all the guys...wink at them and bat her eyes...

[shameless Plug]

Every game is a little different. Excalibur is set about 8-years after the end of the Dominion War, and is set primarily in the Gamma Quadrant. Currently we're on a search for the Founders who've gone missing.

Excalibur's plots tend to be fairly complex with various layers, and an overreaching general plot that ties all our small ones together. We also have fighters, marines, in addition to several players who add depth to our game but are no necessarily in traditional rostered positions.

More information can be found on our boards and on our website.

[/shameless Plug]

I also hope to have chatlogs up ASAP

The Excalibur found herself flanked by three Satarimi cruisers, quite the welcoming party if you asked Corizon. At least, though, the so-called reclusive blue-skinned people seemed friendly enough. Actually, as races in the Gamma Quadrant went, they were down right hospitable. Of course, he reminded himself, with ships as well armed as there's you could afford to be a little less trigger happy.

Some thanks had to be given to Ambassador Jerella. She'd done a wonderful job of assuring their hosts of their peaceful intentions. Apparently, they were actually happy to meet someone who's only aim was exploration. Kindred spirits, perhaps?

The Satarimi had been fairly forthcoming in regards to the blood cult as well, a group they called the Cult of Iyves. That had come as a small relief to Corizon. Ever since that incident, the whole crew had been on edge, chomping at the bit for a measure of closure, perhaps the information contained in the packet they were preparing would yield that measure.

As for himself, it had been a stressful assignment. Not only because of the hazards of space travel, the angst of the unknown, the moral dilemma of helping the Dominion, but also the administrative conflicts of running a ship. True, he'd essentially been with most of the crew for over three years on both the B and the C, and they'd been through some hellish times together, but this was his first real mission in command with no one over him.

In spite of the command headaches, the crew did seem to be settling in on the new ship a little better. He'd wanted more shake-down time, but Starfleet had other plans. Bureaucrats. Some things were universal constants.

“Captain,” Petty Officer Eiago Salazar's lightly accented voice chirped through the communicator on the Dameon's desk. “The Satarimi are sending you the finalized schedule for our visit to their homeworld.”

What was that about universal constants? “Oh boy,” Corizon managed. “Send it along when it gets here and CC it to Commander JoNs and Ambassadors Jerella and Lexin.”

“Aye, Captain.”

A few moments later and the schedule was scrolling by on his desk unit. Jerella and Corizon had both agreed that even with their mission in mind, this was to good of an opportunity to pass up standard first contact procedures. As such, they'd spent the last several hours ironing out the schedule for exploration and cultural exchange between the Federation and the Satarimi Hierarchy.

From his brief glance over, it appeared fairly standard; the crew would spend the bulk of their time touring Satarimi facilities both in space and planetside, while another team would tour the Satarimi around the Excalibur and give them a basic overview of Federation history. Meanwhile Corizon, Lexin and Jerella would be busy with higher level talks with the Archprime Council concerning the Dominion and the Cult of Iyves.

The schedule was for a three-day engagement; the first two days would be filled with the aforementioned tours with evenings culminating in a cultural event, read: dinner, held respectively by the Satarimi and the Excalibur. The third and final day would be more open, with the Satarimi granting the Excalibur crew passes to experience the planet themselves without a guide. That evening, the Satarimi would be holding a formal gala ball to honor the successful first contact. Corizon was almost certain his crew was going to mutiny when they heard they'd be wearing dress uniforms for the bulk of the mission, and have to wear even more formal uniforms the final night with full regalia. But if they thought he was any happier about it than they were, they were sorely mistaken.

Although, if the worst thing that happened to them on this mission was having to wear an uncomfortable uniform, that would be an improvement.

Obsessed. They are all emotionally addicted and obsessed...

Personally, I resent that remark.

With the Dominion busy trying to keep our right rebellion down and the Scorpiads withdrawing from the territory they seized during the war, local patrols in Camelot's space were limited almost exclusively to Alpha Quadrant vessels. That suited Captain Jai Harom-Kell of the Saladin just fine, in his opinion, having forces from either side would only cause problems.

The Excelsior-class vessel was in her third tour of the Gamma Quadrant, and in that time she'd seen some strange, miraculous things. She'd also seen the entire quadrant plunged into war over what, nearest her Captain could tell, was a grudge about as old as Earth's written history.

Lately things had calmed down. The only problem he seemed to have was the occasional pirate, and they were dispatched pretty easily when a Federation starship showed up on the scene. For the Captain and crew, it had been a welcome change of pace.

Today, the Saladin was on the fourth leg of her standard patrol. The whole route took them almost five weeks to complete, and the fourth leg was one of the longer stretches of space on their path. Encompassing seven inhabited systems, four uninhabited systems, two nebulae and a class-VIII protostar there was a lot of ground to cover as the region was fairly well 'spaced.' That meant long downtimes between systems. Which meant general mischief among the crew.

Harom-Kell's first officer, Heidi Swanson, had already complained to the Captain about the conduct of the crew. Though he thought she was being a bit uptight, he'd told her to do what she thought appropriate. As such, the crew now found itself plenty busy—cleaning the decks.

Sitting on the bridge, while a passel of enlisted and junior officers scrubbed and polished, Harom-Kell leaned back into his chair with a thin smile. At least some good came out of his first officers overeagerness.

The Excelsior-class ship suddenly reared, leveled and bucked, tossing the idyll crew in various directions. On the bridge, the once sedate Captain Harom-Kell found himself barking orders.

“Report!”

He clawed himself back into his seat, bracing as the ship began rolling over violently.

“Attempting...” the helmsman was fighting just to stay in his seat as the inertial dampeners struggled to keep up. “Attempting to compensate...”

Finally the Saladin leveled out.

“What the hell was that?”

Behind the command chair, Lt. Gael Berna worked his fingers over the science stations' consoles. “Sensors are still shaky, but it looked... almost like a... well...”

Harom-Kell turned in his seat, looking directly at the human science officer. “Looked like what?”

“An...earthquake...”

Skeptically, “An earthquake.”

Nodding his head, Berna looked at the readings once more. “Only in subspace.”

At that moment the doors to the turbolift opened and Hedi Swanson along with a half-dozen other senior crew emerged onto the bridge. “Captain...”

“Commander I was just about to call for you...”

“What the hell was that?”

Harom-Kell pointed to Berna, deferring to the scientist.

“Like I told the Captain,” Berna said, motioning the commander over to his station. “It almost looks like a earthquake, but in subspace.”

Swanson flipped her curly red hair out of her face and pulled a chair next to the science station. “It certainly looks like it.”

A geologist by training, she could help but recognize the tail-tail wave signature in the readings she had before her.. but it didn't make any sense for energy waves to travel through subspace like they did through solid rock. “Well if you're correct,” she said finally. “Then there will be an epicenter... let's see if we can trace it... this might be an entirely new phenomena.”

Content to let the scientists do their work, Harom-Kell turned his attention to more pressing issues. “Damage report?”

The Operations officer was well ahead of him. “Shields down to 50 percent, weapons off-line, structural integrity fields holding, warp and impulse coming back on-line now... we have minor causalities all-over, but medical reports only a few serious injuries...”

“Have we gotten any reports from anyone else in the region of the same phenomena?”

“Subspace communications arrays still off-line, looks like the subspace-antenna took some damage, no word from engineering on how long it might take to fix...”

“Very well,” Harom-Kell said with a slight sigh. “Keep me informed.”

“Captain,” Swanson said. “I think we've located the epicenter...”

“Okay.”

“Looks like it's about a five light years from here...”

“Salin-system?” Harom-Kell said, with lifted brows.

“Yes, sir.”

Salin was not technically on their patrol route, but none the less they'd been keeping tabs on the system. A former Dominion world, it had been claimed by the advance of the Scorpiads and turned into an Al-Ucard base. Under the terms of the Avalon Treaty, the base was kept, but under Al-Ucard control. Near as they could tell, the base was fairly unimportant, and the system itself scientifically insignificant, apparently not.

“What are you seeing on long-range scanners?”

“That's just it...”

“What?”

“At first we thought it was our sensors, but they're not damaged...”

“Eh?”

“Captain... there's nothing there... just some large asteroids...”

“Come again?”

“It's like... the whole planet... the whole star system... was simply erased from the map.”

“Is it safe for us to...”

“Already plotting a course, Captain...”

“Good... shoot off a message buoy to Camelot Station...”