Craven

Proud. That was how Jack Craven felt about the crew he served with. The Excalibur, under Captain Sorehl, had just won its first battle with the Scorpiads, and retreived its captured crew, including Captain Corizon, and it was all thanks to the teamwork that had taken place. Notably, what had happened on the bridge during the firefight. Each member on the bridge, and otherwise, had been instrumental in coordinating the events leading up to the destruction of the Scorpiad Warship. Now, looking over his Science team's status reports, he was most proud of his team. He was glad his constant quest for a smooth running department had paid off in the hour of greatest need. Tristan and the new Ensign, Vastia had really come through with the tissue sample from the Scorpiad fighter. Their analysis played no small role in Craven's advisments to Captain Sorehl during the conflict, and Craven was not about to forget it. He made a mental note to get them a round of drinks from the Holy Grail when they returned. All around the ship it seemed an enormous weight had been lifted. Everyone's spirits were higher, and the cloud of fear was slowly disappearing amongst the crew, yet they remained cautious. Although they had won the battle, the wormhole was still under the controll of the Scorpiad forces. Looking out his office window, Craven's thoughts turned to Ensign Ramson, who had piloted the stealth fighter in the rescue operation. Jack was impressed at the maneuverability of the craft, and was sure it was in no small part due to its pilot. Once this was all over he would be sure to put her in touch with his friend, Admiral Cromwell back at Starfleet HQ. Then, the face of Admiral Nicholas Cromwell entered his thoguhts fully for the first time in weeks. The man who had been his close friend and mentor throughout the Academy, and the man who had signed the official order to have Craven put in charge of the MERLIN project under Captain Corizon. Craven wondered if he would ever think of his friend the Admiral the same. He wondered how the Brass at Starfleet would remember this day. Sighing, he sat down at his desk and returned to his work. No matter, he thought. This day belongs to us.

"Lieutenant, our orders?" a young crewman was addressing Craven in the halls outside of Science Lab 13, where a strange turn of events had resulted in the seizure of 4 memberss of the Excalibur crew, including Captain Corizon and a hullbreach. "Wha...?" Craven was still piecing together what had just happened, but suddenly snapped out of it and went straight into his role. Clearing his throat, Craven began shouting out orders to the dozen or so Science crewmembers in the corridoor, "If your Assigned Lab is of an Odd number, report to your stations and ensure all Science related systems are go, if it is even, report to Lieutenant Xenatos in Main Science, have him assign you a portion of the lateral sensor array....find that ....that THING that just left here. MOVE!" Now turning to run down the corridoor to a turbolift, he tapped his comm badge, "Craven to all senior Science Department Staff, Report to your stations. I need all availible sensor data from Science Lab 13 from the past 48 hours, starting with the last thirty minutes....and I need it yesterday!" "If your Federation Personnell Number ends in a zero, then make your way to Cargo Bay 4 to aid in security of the Merlin Project. Under no circumstances is it to be armed, touched or even looked at the wrong way without explicit instructions from Admiral Day. That means not even myself, until he notifies you otherwise. No Exceptions!" Entering the turbolift, he caught his breath before uttering, "Bridge..." and then realizing what was the next obvious course of action, "Admiral Day to the Bridge...." It was time to rescue a few friends....

Act strong...you have to act strong. Don't show weakness or they'll tear you apart. These were the words Jack Craven told himself each time he had a briefing with any section of the science department. This morning, they rang especially true. After a long night battling the stress-induced nausea brought on by his latest mission, Craven was walking at an unusually brisk pace towards one of the many conference rooms aboard the Excalibur. But today would be no ordinary briefing. After a few weeks of construction, the "Merlin Subspace Delivery System" was nearing completion, but its subspace components had yet to be created and implemented. And the entire Science Team, including Tristan Xenatos was still in the dark about the true nature of the weapon. Be cool, pretend you're fine with it. Don't make your concerns the issue...they'll have enough on their plate... Wiping the sweat from his brow, Craven straightened his uniform and walked through the door into the conference room stopping immediately after he entered. "Good morning," he greeted his weapon development team with a half smile. "Mornin Chief." "Good Morning Lieutenant!" "How's the day going?" Each bright eyed and bushy tailed response made him feel worse about what he was about to do. Turning to the entrance, his expression turned serious, "Computer, activate security seal Craven Beta One, authorization Craven Alpha Zero Nine." Suddenly the smiles dropped from the faces of his team and were replaced instead with bewildered looks. He turned again and walked up to the wall panel display at the head of the conference room table. Noting the looks of concern he explained, "Er, you'll understand that in a minute." Clearing his throat he activated the wall panel, on which came a layout of the weapon schematics. At least, the weapon schematics he had given his team up to that point. The ones without the subspace components. "For starters this isn't your normal briefing. Its informative only and unfortunately I won't have time for questions until later today, so listen up." He took a deep breath and continued, "I don't need to tell you that all this information is classified. Other than yourselves, the only people who have clearance to this information are the Captain, the Admiral, myself, Lt. Marish, Ensign Xenatos and Captain Sorehl. You are to discuss this only while on duty and only while in your respective construction zones, be they the cargo bays or science labs. Under NO circumstances are you to discuss this with anyone while off duty, unless expressly addressed by myself or Captain Corizon." He paused to let the information sink in before going on, "Now then. You are all...at least partially aware of our mission to construct a weapon to use against the Scorpiads. Unfortunately due to circumstances beyond my control you have been slightly deceived as to the true nature of this weapon." He began to see looks of sudden realization materialize on the faces before him, "I don't take any of you for fools. I assume by now you realize that the structural design of this weapon calls for a major missing component - the payload. And is my duty to inform you now that the payload...is an isolytic charge...It's a semi-subspace weapon." As expected the crew in front of them looked like they were going to be sick. "Before you ask, yes this weapon was made illegal under the Second Khitomer Accords. Yes these are official Starfleet Orders. Yes I understand the consequences this could spell for this ship, this crew and the entire Federation. I've sent a copy of the updated schematics to each of your workstations." "Whatever moral issues you have on this subject need to be put on hold, because for now, this weapon is our only hope for regaining control of the wormhole, and keeping our foothold in this Quadrant." At that moment, Jack Craven felt unfit to wear the uniform...he felt like the galaxy's greatest hypocrite. Here he was telling his crew to put their personal feelings aside when he himself couldn't stop thinking about his own personal issues with the project. "The weapon will be guided by a positronic relay system, which will take it within one metre of the Scorpiad's energy barrier we saw during our last encounter. At that point, the Gravimetric Charges on the outer shell of the weapon will be activated, hopefully causing the same effect as last time and sending the ship into....hopefully....a subspace state of flux, as it did in our last encounter. Almost instantaneously, the isolytic charge will activate, propelling the torpedo in its own subspace field directly toward the target. When the weapon comes into direct contact with a solid mass in normal space, the payload will activate, and the quantum and subspace charges will go off, likely creating an explosion with the power of.......several million isotons" His crew now turned from a pale white to a sickly green. "This detonation power is of course achievable with conventional weapons, in theory. However, Starfleet has deemed it necessary to use a subspace weapon because of its unique theoretical ability to produce Subspace Compression. In all likelihood, the explosion will be coupled with a subspace field compression, a phenomenon that will act in conjuncture with the state of flux which the ship will already be in, and effectively rip anything in it's wake apart atom-by-atom...within a radius of about one hundred and fifty kilometres. The chances of anything surviving....if the weapon can break through the energy barrier.....is 3 trillion seven hundred million to one." He saw now that his crew was on the verge of collapsing due to the magnitude of the situation. "I'm afraid that's all I can tell you for now, I have to brief Ensign Xenatos later." and he began to walk towards the door." Just before over-riding the security measures, he turned to his crew one last time. "I know how you feel...I'm not to happy about this either. Unfortunately all I can do for you now, is tell you that your complaints will be noted in my log....and I'm sorry." "I truly am sorry. To all of you. For all of this."

Oh God, this can't be happening. Jack Craven had never been a man of strong faith. As a scientist all his life, it seemed illogical. But from the first day he'd set foot on the decks of the USS-Excalibur, faith it seemed, was now totally relevant. Now, leaned up against the bulkhead in the tiny washroom of his cramped junior officer's quarters, feet curled up on the floor, faith was all he could think about. All the lights in his quarters were dimmed, and he saw nothing but the horrors that danced around his mind. Faint white figured painted his dreams, and visions of all his heroes looked down upon him in the dank dwellings of his imagination. His uniform reeked of sweat and vomit - the pressure causing him to lose more than his appetite. On the deck about a metre away from him lay a PADD he had thrown against the bulkhead minutes earlier, before retreating to the toilet for another bout of nausea. And for some reason, which had not even entered his mind in the disaster state it was presently in, the automatic sink faucet was continuing to flow - even though his hands were a half meter away, on the floor, covering his face. I want you to report to Lieutenant Sheng-Ji Marish... I want you to build a weapon.... Congratulations, you've been promoted to Chief Science Officer..... Build a weapon.... Corizon's words rang through his ears like a thousand clock tower bells in the Earth cities of old. He remembered walking into his office to find the Dameon, Sheng-Ji...reading a screen full of schematics to the weapon. He remembered not really understanding how it operated, or what the weapon even did. It goes boom... Those were Sheng-Ji's words....Boom. How he wished he were still in his ignorant state. How he wished that all this weapon did was simply go....boom. He stretched out his arms and grabbed the PADD off the floor, rapping it against his leg until it flickered to life, illuminating his face with its characteristic yellow-orange luminescent glow. On it scrolled a wealth of information - classified information - on the weapon. Examining it with shaking hands, it was clear to him now why he had not understood the schematics earlier. When Craven first examined Sheng-Ji's schematics, he did so expecting them to be exactly that: basic Starfleet Weapon Design Schematics. However, any first year Cadet could tell that these were not classic Starfleet design. They weren't even reminiscent of any Federation Designs, yet the Starfleet emblem adorning the "Classified" Security Seal markings at the top ensured that indeed these schematics were of Starfleet origin. For what seemed like the one hundredth time that day, Craven reread the document. =/\=Classified=/\= Starfleet Intelligence Security Code Confirmed Craven, Jackson Apollo 21009539, Code Craven-Alpha-Zero-Nine "MERLIN" advanced Subspace Delivery System Schematics: EYES ONLY. Per Unit 100Kg Trilithium resin [Weapons Grade] 60Kg Deuterium [High Grade] 1 Standard Quantum Torpedo Housing [With attached Modifications] Attached Quantum Torpedo In-housing [Read attached for assembly and gutting instructions] 3 Subspace Proximity Detonators 2 Modified Gravimetric Charges [see attachment for modifications] 1 Matter-Antimatter Apparatus Class III-Gamma [see attachment for modifications] [The list goes on...] Suddenly feeling another rush of nausea, Craven threw the PADD against the bulkhead and into the still filling sink as he scrambled for the toilet and lurched over as he felt the rush of blood to his head and the capillaries bursting below his eyelids, caused by the asphyxiation effect of vomiting. Leaning back against the bulkhead he wiped his brow, before wiping off his mouth. "Build me a weapon" he thought. A subspace weapon....an illegal weapon. As he lay there cold and shaking, the PADD flickered out once more, the last words it would show before going dark, was the post-script at the end of the document: ....your orders Mister Craven, are to use your advanced knowledge of Cybernetics and Positronic Systems to develop a guidance system for this weapon, and complete its construction. I have full faith in your abilities Your Friend Admiral Nicholas Cromwell Starfleet Command The name at the bottom....Admiral Nicholas Cromwell...was the straw that broke the camel's back. This was the man whom Craven had confided in as his mentor while at Starfleet Academy...back when he was still Commander Nicholas Cromwell...he would never do this to him on purpose...would he? No, the Admiral couldn't have sent these orders unless they were done so prior to the seizure of the wormhole.... Did that mean they were sent before the Scorpiads attacked? Starfleet was planning on using him to develop an illegal weapon as a fall back? In-case something happened? No...he wouldn't have....he told me he didn't even know I was on Excalibur until he talked with... His eyes suddenly opened wide. Until he talked with Captain Corizon.... Oh God, this can't be happening.

I Resent that lol :P I'm all About Science, on Excal my goal is pretty much to gun for the boss' job all the time tho...so now that I'm CSCI I guess I'm stuck gunning for the CO forever lol. Seriously though if you "don't have to do anything" as CSCI then the sim is boring, straight up (In Excal they got me crafting a subspace weapon.....can anyone say "Khitomer Accord"?) :ph34r:

I too.....am not Finn. However I thought I'd put my two cents in and say I also use Kuro!

"Deck Eleven" As the turbo-lift hummed to life, Jack Craven leaned against the bulkhead and closed his eyes for the first time since the battle with the Al-Ucard fleet. It had been two hours since The Hundred fleet had warped in from seemingly nowhere to the aid of the flailing allies. A battle which Craven himself had, by chance, played a larger role in than he had expected. The day had been full of surprises. For starters, there was his promotion to Lieutenant Junior-Grade. While he felt honored that Commander Corizon had bestowed this title upon him just prior to a major battle - a timing which he felt was more than coincidence, considering the confidence it gave the young man from Canada - Jack had little time to feel good about himself and the work he had put in. Immediately afterwards, the Dameon had called on Jack to man the Conn. While Jack had piloted all manner of starships before in training, he had never been charged with control of a ship of the Dreadnaught's potential, much less the Gamma Quadrant Flagship in a major battle. "Don't get us all killed." were the words that rang through his head - when he even had time to think - during the battle. Now looking back, he had at least succeeded in that respect. The turbo-lift came to a hald at Deck 11, home to the Excalibur's illustrious Stellar Cartography Lab. Walking through the sliding doors, Jack couldn't help but give a slight smile. If there was anywhere on the ship Jack loved to be, it was here....or Astrophysics....or the Arboretum...or Hydroponics. Now that he thought about it, pretty much anywhere in the Science Deptartment's realm, Jack loved. As he walked along the plank that extended towards a giant concave screen, he noticed a man lying beneath the console, with his legs poking out from beside one of the two chairs. Noticing Craven, the man rose to his feet. Craven recognized him immediately by his short stature as Ensign Steve Halloway. "Oh hey Jack..." suddenly noticing the extra pip on the taller man's collar his face went red, "I mean, Sir." Jack gave a wide smile "It's ok Steve, you didn't know...and its not like I'm your CO." Halloway's nervousness suddenly calmed and turned to a bright smile, "Oh well in that case, congratulations. Er...what can I do for you?" Jack's expression returned to one of all-business, "Well, Commander Itzhak's a little tied up on the bridge given all that's been going on," Halloway nodded, "Kinda crazy eh? What with us fighting giant scorpions one day and Vampires the next?" Craven seemed to ignore the joke the shorter man was trying to make but nodded, "Anyway since he's a little tied up I'm making my usual rounds to all the science facilities, and I thought I'd come check on my baby," he said motioning to the portion of the console which Halloway was working on, "She's not busted up is she?" Halloway chuckled, "Oh that? Yeah this whole deck took somewhat of a beating there in that firefight. Engineering's a bit tied up, but I know this construction almost as well as anyone else, save for maybe you or Commander Itzhak, so I figured I'd start some repairs here." Jack grinned again, "Excellent. I'll swing by in a few hours to pick up your report for the Cheif. I've still got to hit all the labs, the Arboretum, Hydro and Astrophysics yet." "Aye sir, I'll take good care of her for you." Halloway winked. Jack chuckled and turned to leave. Just as he made it to the doorway, he turned back, "And Halloway," "Sir?" Smiling a toothy grin he added, "Be gentle with her." and made his way out.

Hmm, perhaps I should have been more specific. I vote for emissarry because it sets out the theme involving the main character which spans the entire series. Id have to say no to the cage because it doesnt really show a broad stroke for the TOS series. Then again I cant really watch whole episodes of TOS anymore because I cant stand the 60's look to everything, yeah its all they had and was top of the line at the time, but its just not enough for me. Broken bow is sweeet because it feels like the most realistic to me regarding how it fits in to the rest of that first season.

Ok, again this has probably been done before, and if it has I apologize. But if not, then hey, what you waiting for? Vote for the best live-action Star Trek pilot episode! For me its Deep Space Nine's "Emissary", but a close second is "Broken Bow" on ENT Farpoint = just funny to watch Caretaker/Cage/No Man - the same And I know you're lying if you vote for "the cage"

Jack Craven walked into his quarters after a long shift of surveying the Astrophysics lab, having the entire team run diagnostics...three times. Running spot checks on the Science Lab's equipment. Thre times. And full diagnostics of the sensor grids - all of them. Three times. Ever since he had returned to Excalibur he had spent the entire time checking and rechecking every single piece of equipment that fell in the Science Department’s domain. He hadn't even had time to talk to his Chief, Itzhak. Nor had he even seen the new Ensign assigned to Science. And then there was Quelsar. He had thought the two of them had begun to develop a good working-rappor, and he had hoped to capitalize on that, and perhaps trade academic papers they might have been working on. But there was no time. Jack had been on top of every Science Section like blue on a Bolian. "When it comes to crunch time, son, keep youre head up and your stick down." his father had always said. Maybe he was doing too much. Maybe he was pushing himself too hard. Deep inside he knew that, even if he were trying to do too much, the young man from Canada wouldn't slow down - he would just do even more. His career meant everything too him. But then, so did staying alive. Now, lying on his bed, Craven wasn't thinking about how the officers in Astrophysics had leered at him when he had interrupted their rather laid-back shift, nor about how he had been too busy to even say "Hi" to his fellow Science Team - something which he did indeed regret. Instead Jack was thinking about a comment he had overheard in the corridor. A young enlisted crewman was rattling off to his partner about the impending combat, and how he hadn't joined Starfleet to fight, he had joined to explore. When Jack heard this he nearly wanted to scream. Yeah we're going to war, and yeah...that sucks. he thought. But this kind of thing comes with the territory. Closing his eyes he had asked himself again and again if this sort of thing really did come with the uniform. Everyone on the ship was talking about it. "There comes a time, Jack, where you have to decide what's worth fighting for." Those were his father's words too. Words that had never rung more true than they did right now. This, what he had now, what the Federation had now, was worth fighting for, he thought. Sure this wasn't his father's Federation any longer, but dammit there was still something deep down at its core. Something pure. Something free. Something worth fighting for. Worth dying for. Jack didn't like war any more than the next man or woman. But he knew that sometimes, unfortunately it was necessary. The Federation was in an era of a stand. A stand against those who would come to do it harm. The Borg, the Dominion conflict, and now the Scorpiads and Al-Ucards. Each struggle was different in its own regard, but they all had one thing in common: Fear. Regardless of the political agendas, Jack knew he was fighting for a single purpose: So that the rest of Humanity...the rest of the Federation, would be rid of the fear, at least for a while. The concept that fear drives civilizations from order to chaos...and chaos to order was timeless, but it was something that young Craven was just coming to grips with. On the outside he'd never admit it, but that is why he fought. He didn't want to be afraid of what was out there. And right now, he was scared. Opening his eyes he looked out his window at the stars streaking by. More than anything he wanted to be able to look at them with wonder again. His eyes began to well up. Staring out at the thousands of suns flying past at warp speed, a single tear streaked down his cheek. I wonder if the stars know...I wonder if they know how hard we're fighting...for them.

Jack Craven walked into his quarters at 2100hrs and tossed a small duffle bag onto his bed. Still wearing his pirate-gear he grabbed a uniform with one hand and pulled it over his head to find that the right arm's sleeve was missing. Oh...right. Forgot about that. He thougth silently. He had ripped the shirt's sleeve to stop his arm from bleeding when the skin had been ripped from his durasteel arm during the Ardent mission. Sighing, he took off the torn uniform and walked over to his closet to find a fresh never-been-worn grey topped uniform with it's science-blue under-tunic and threw it on just as a comm beep sounded. Walking over to his desk he saw the words "Incoming Message: Starfleet Headquarters, San Fransisco, Earth" flashing across the monitor. "Who could this be I wonder?" he whispered softly to himself. Tapping the console, a broad-shouldered Admiral with jet black hair which was only slightly graying sat grinning at the young Ensign. "Jackie Boy how are ya!?" came a familiar voice. Jack's lips grew to a wide grin, "Capta...er, Admiral Cromwell...this is a surprise." The Admiral chuckled, "Heh, well things started shaking up at the Academy recently, they made me an offer I couldnt refuse." Seeing Cromwell's face brought back many memories. Nicholas Alexander Cromwell had only been a Commander when Jack had first applied to the academy, and was the first to hear of Craven's encounter with the Borg as a child - which he admitted to during his entrace interview with Cromwell (Read "Jack Craven: Bio"). Now after only three years (Jack had Graduated early, with Cromwell's guidance) the older man of only thirty-five was an Admiral - a feat that was by no means lost on young Craven. "What can I do for you, Sir?" Jack said smiling to his mentor. "Well Doctor Craven, I had hoped you could update me on your latest research paper on positronic systems?" Jack winced a little, he wasn't used to being called "Doctor", in fact no one in Starfleet ever referred to him as such since he wasn't in the medical profession and was only referred to by rank. When he first decided to take on a PhD (His first was in Positronics and his second was a dual in Quantum Mechanics and Spactial Phenomenon) part of him had wanted the title, but he knew being in Starfleet meant never being referred to as such, unless he was at a conference. And then there was the matter of his youth. At 22, he was the youngest Doctor of Positronics in the history of Starfleet (in fact his academic arch-rival, a Vulcan named T'rac, had received a PhD the same day as Craven.) Clearing his throat he replied, "Uh well Admiral, I'm scheduled to give a video lecture in the coming weeks on Temporal Phenomenon...so Positronics isn't really on the front burner right now if you know what I mean." "Thats okay Jackie boy, it was more of a friendly check-up anyhow..." pausing for a moment, the Admiral looked away for a second as if something else had cought his attention. Then he turned back to Jack and continued, "Well looks like the boys up at Spacedock need some suit-types for some ceremony type thing, gotta run. Cromwell out." With a wink, the screen went blank. That...was wierd. Craven thought to himself. I dont hear from him in six months and suddenly he calls in for a two minute "how ya doin" ? Shaking his head he rose and began to unpack his duffle bag. He had a few hours before his first shift back aboard the Excalibur began so he figured sleep was the best idea. Nodding off, his last thoughts before reaching a peaceful slumber were: Something tells me things are gonna get real interesting when I wake up.

"Captain!" the man's voice was hoarse and barely audible over the sound of the waves crashing up against the hull. "Captain! We've an intercepter! 'Rect astern!" the man's boots made a stiff knocking sound against the damp wood of the deck. The man himself was somewhat portly, donning a dark colored shirt and largly puffed out sailing pants that only reached his ankles. As he continued to yell, spit began to spray over his long curly beard, which covered most of his face. Reaching the bow of the Ursaeus, once a ship in Her Majesty's Royal Navy and now the fiercest pirate ship in the Carribean, the man tapped a taller man on the shoulder frantically as he gasped for air. "Captain! You need to..." he said panting. "What is it Mister Eisley?" The taller man replied calmly, still facing the sea, which was beginning to get quite choppy in the Carribean sun. "Captain Craven, Sir. We've a ship attempting to intercept, closing in at twenty knots sir! What do we do?" Jack Craven spun around, fully decked out in a raggedy white shirt covered by a jet black Captains' Jacket, fraying white sailing pants and boots as black as the bottom of the sea. This is what he loved about this particular holodeck program: non-stop surprises. With only a minute concern Craven begain walking with the stout Eisley towards the bow to catch a glimpse of their persuers. "Hmm...a British vessel?" Craven inquired showing only a vague concern. "Aye," Eisley muttered, "but we ain't yet sure which one it be, Cap'n." Craven reched for the chest at the base of the big steering wheel at the bow of the ship which controlled the rudder chain and pulled out a telescoping spyglass. Proceeding to point it in the direction of the persuing ship he squnted and peeked through. "Well I'll be damned. It seems the holodeck isn't without it's sense of irony." he said matter-of-factly. "Sir?" Eisley was puzzled. "The ship that is following us, Mister Eisley, is the HMS Excalibur." "I'm afraid I don't follow sir." Eisley was now even more confused. Sighing, Jack leaned on one of the sideposts and begain rapping a knuckle on it. "No Mister Eisley I don't believe you would...hard to port, bring out the nines. Both sides. I don't want them catching us off gaurd." "AYE!" Came the voices of the rest of the crew, who now were scurrying about, adjusting the sails and arming the cannons. "Mister Dyne," Craven turned to his first officer, who was manning the rudder chain at the wheel, "I want the men to be prepared to mount a boarding party. If we get a lucky shot I want to be having a face-to-face with Captain Asche of the Excalibur within a fifteen minute window. If we take that ship, its going to the bottom of the seas, savvy?" Dyne gave an enthusiastic reply, "Aye Cap'n, it will be done." Within minutes the two ships began closing on each other for a side-by-side. It was the Ursaeus that fired first. The roar of the cannons was deafening, and pieces of lumber and steel were flying everywhere. The smell of the gunpowder was burning in Jack's nose, as suddenly he found himself on the deck. He looked up to see one of his men go overboard. Bringing himself to his feet, he ran over to the cannon the man had just finished arming and fired it off. What followed was what can only be described as an absolute pummeling of the British ship. After only ten minutes, the cannons were silent, and Craven was staring face to face with the Captain of the Excalibur. "I'm willing to negotiate the terms of my surrender," Captain Asche said hesitantly. Craven gave a wry smile. This is the fun part. he thought. "I dont think ye understand. Round 'ere mate, tis I who dictates the terms, savvy?" he said with a toothy grin. "What do you want? Riches? Gold! We have gold! You can take what you want, just leave us be." Asche stammered, a bit nervous that Eisley was now standing behind him with a cutllass at the nape of his neck. Jack now turned so that his back was to the British Captain, "Now what would we be doin that for? So you could hunt us down again I suppose?" now he turned back towards the shaking man and leaned in, "No and of course we be taking your riches, tis what we do, mate. But as for you and yer men...we won't be needin ya....savvy?" His eyes grew wide as Craven tried his best to make them look menacing. This is far too much fun. He thought to himself. "Dyne." he barked out. "Sir!" "Escort our...guests over to "Mr. Flatwood" over there." Jack said with a cackle. "Mis...Mister Flatwood?" Asche asked nervously. Leaning in once more Jack smiled and whispered into the older man's ear. "means the Plank, Captain Asche." And once more he let out a cackle. Just as he gave the order a comm beep interruped Craven. What now? Craven thought to himself. "Computer, pause program." and everything was still. The waves caught against the hull and hung there as if captured by the shutter of a camera, and imprinted in mid air. The sweat beading down Asche's forehead remained perfectly still. Tapping the comm badge beneath his shirt Craven queried, "Craven here." "Ensign Craven, this is Commander Sprint" Sprint....Sprint....Sprint....oh the communications officer, right. Craven thought silently. "Go ahead, Sir." Craven replied. "Just informing you that you have been re-assigned to the Excalibur and are to report for duty at 2300, as per orders from Commander Corizon." Craven's eyes widened. Finally, back on Excalibur. He thought. It had been too long. "Computer, end program and save." The holodeck returned to its familiar black and yellow grid-shaped pattern and Craven walked through the door, still dressed in his pirate get-up. He was sure to get some eyes as he strolled through Camelot. His battle with the British would have to be put on hold.

I agree Helios, B is best. Also I really like how you have the "Star Trek Simulation Forum" on the outside of the circle now too...looks much better than the "ST...SF" curved on the inside Keep it up folks!

Craven felt the familiar tingle of the transporter rematerialization as his body formed on the Ardent's transporter pad. The last thing he heard was someone muttering about leaving Commander Corizon on the asteroid, and he could see some grim looks on the faces of the away team as they felt the Defiant-class ship jump to warp once they were aboard. I suppose this is one of the few luxuries I have as a junior officer. Craven thought to himself. He was of course referring to his minor sense of detachment that came with not having any relationships of speakable depth on the Camelot-Excalibur crew. The closest he had gotten to anyone was a few casual conversations with the new Andorian Science Officer, Quelsar, whom he supposed was not all that new at all anymore. In fact, if his memory served him correctly, he had seen a message in the science office during shore leave at Camelot saying something about a theoretical specialist joining the science staff. So now there were even more people on the crew whom he was unfamiliar with. Still, this detachment allowed Craven to look at the Ardent’s situation a little more objectively than he supposed a senior officer might see it. If the Ardent was in fact under attack, and Corizon was indeed on the surface - presumably injured - then leaving him would have been the correct decision, as far as procedure went. More than that, Corizon's orders had outlined the importance of this mission. Failure was NOT an option. There was no doubt in Craven's mind that, given his present limited experience in Starfleet, he would have made the same decision to depart, but he could see in the eyes of his crewmates that such a decision, while not necessarily different, would have been a bit more belabored. Still...a part of the young Ensign enved them.

Mine is in my signature :P Also, theres about 10 good ones in the TNG episode "Deja Q" real zingers. one of them (the "what do i have to do to impress you......die" one) has already been mentioned.