Cptn Swain

MISSION BRIEF: Excalibur has been dispatched to the Alciest system, where they will setup a long range communications array.Excalibur is now roughly half-way to Alciest, and the crew is continuing to prep for the mission. 020313.txt

The city of Erok Ain had once been a shimmering collection of tall skyscrapers and glittering buildings, a monument to the Ehtrol Republic. Then, the Dominion had come and the tall skyscrapers and glittering buildings were reduced to rubble. In their place, blocky, uninspired buildings rose uniformly. Purple-blue skies that had once been clear and free of pollution were now clouded with acid filled clouds. Erok Ain had turned from a center of art, culture, literature and music to an industrial center at the core of the Dominion’s ‘Sector 36.2.’ But as with many things, Sector 36.2 had waned in its importance to the Dominion as the resources in the area had begun to be depleted. Deep below the toxic rain clouds, in the ruins of the old city, a bustling market stirred to life, and in the dark corners of small, ran-down pub, darkness festered. “You’re late,” a shrill voice said as a cloaked figure sat down next to him. “You’re always late.” The cloaked figure shrugged. “If your information weren’t so useful I wouldn’t tolerate it.” The man speaking glowered towards the cloaked figure seated to his right in the corner booth. The air was heavy and rank with the foul smells of fermented drinks, vomit, and sex. For his part, the vaguely reptilian could have cared less, because in all honesty, the other smells were less offensive than the smell of humanoids by themselves, if anything, the myriad of other scents helped camouflage it. “Oh,” the slender, cloaked figure said. “Well, I’ll try and work on that, Vith.” ‘Vith’ frowned, well at least frowned as much as he could, given his anatomy. If he had to deal with humanoids, he would prefer that they at least pronounced his name correctly, but, he supposed, that was asking a lot from primates. “I take it then,” the cloaked figure continued, “that my last tip for you was lucrative?” “The freighter was exactly where you told us it would be,” Vith said. “And unprotected. Not only that, but the Jem’Hadar were nowhere to be found.” “Oh good,” the figure said. “I’ll expect a rather handsome fee then.” Vith’s tongue slid in and out of his mouth. “I am sure you do.” “That was the deal,” the cloaked figure said, tensing just enough for Vith to notice. “I supply you and your little crew of misfits with information about shipping and where the Jem’Hadar patrols are going to be, and you provide me with a take from selling their goods on the market.” “I know what the deal was,” Vith said, flicking his tongue in annoyance. “And it has been very lucrative, for all of us.” “You’re using the past tense,” the cloaked figure said. “Is that just a verbal tick?” “No,” Vith said. “And, honestly, I think we should continue this agreement.” “Then, I expect my payment.” “You would have your payment,” Vith said. “If there was any profit from the raid.” “But you said...” “I said there were no Jem’Hadar, and the freighter was where it was supposed to be.” “Then what happened?” “The Fed-era-ation,” Vith said, over pronouncing the name, “had a ship in the area that you did not tell us about.” “The Federation? You mean those idiots from the otherside of the wormhole?” “Yesssss,” Vith said. “They had a starship in the area, the Ekhskalihabr.” The cloaked figure shook its head beneath the black cloth that obscured its face. “They’re becoming a nuisance.” “You’ve had dealings with this Ekhskalihabr before?” Vith said, letting his curiosity get the better of him. “Them in particular, no The Federation? Yes.” There was a tone of both annoyance and displeasure in the cloaked figure’s voice, and though it didn’t scare Vith, there was something unnerving about it. “Though I had rather hoped to avoid a direct confrontation with them as long as possible. “I suppose it was inevitable that our dealings and theres would come into conflict sooner or later.” “Perhaps we should send a message?” A mirthless laugh escape from beneath the folds of cloth. “Oh Vith,” a now more clearly feminine voice emerged. “You are so wonderfully predictable.” Vith cocked his head to the side, letting his tongue slither in and out of his mouth for several moments, as if tasting at the air. “What do you have in mind?” “For the moment,” she said. “Nothing. If I understand correctly, you lost a number of ships in your little fight with them.” Again Vith cocked his head. He hadn’t told her that. “Yesssss.” “Then you need to regroup, and rebuild your forces. Stay under your rock or whatever your phrase your people use for hiding for now. I will let you know when I need you again.” “When you need me?” Vith said more than a little annoyed. “Yes,” she said. “When I need you. Do remember Vith, that it was I who sought you out and I who have helped your rise from petty thieves to feared pirates.” The lizard shifted uncomfortably, but said little. “Very well. We will do as you suggest.” Mollified, “Good boy. Now run along. I have another appointment.” Curosity killed the lizard, but Vith had never been able to help himself. “May I ask where and with whom?” To Vith’s surprise, the cloaked figure responded. “Oh, I have to go shake down those lazy miners from Alciest again. Just remember dear Vith, if you owe me money, you had best pay me or run to the farest, deepest corner of the universe, three galaxies over because I don’t take well to people stiffing a tab.” Realizing exactly why she’d decided to be forthcoming for a change, Vith swallowed hard. “I always pay my debts...” “Keep it that way.”

Season 5.5, Episode 2 "Affliction" Mission Brief, SD 022013.10 The Excalibur has been dispatched to the Alciest system to deploy a high-tech communications array to allow for better and more reliable communication with the Alpha Quadrant. Engineering has been tasked with the primary portion of the mission, however, as Alciest is a non-Federation planet, Security will be tasked with keeping the engineering operations secure, while Science and Medical will both play support roles. After several days of travel and preperation, Excalibur will be arriving in the system as we pick up. IC Date: February 10, 2386 TBS: 4 Days

MISSION BRIEF: Excalibur's crew has been recalled and word has begun to leak out that we've gotten new orders. Heavy machinery and communications equipment has been loaded aboard as well, and now a senior staff meeting has been called. 12713.txt

Note: Some of these events are specific to Excalibur and may or may not reflect events on other STSF games at the discretion of those games’ GM teams. If there are questions, feel free to ask the GM’s for clarification. With many thanks to players both former and current who contributed to this document. Alpha Quadrant Powers Climate of the Federation of Planets - Post Dominion War Federation. Politically, the Federation remains in a state of flux as a new generation of political leaders, shaped by three decades of conflict, come into their own. This new generation of leaders are far more inclined to use force and to intervene in conflicts abroad. Romulan Star Empire - The unprecedented wartime alliance of the Romulan Star Empire with other Alpha Quadrant powers against the Dominion -- including their perennial enemy the Federation -- left a wellspring of less xenophobic sentiment throughout the Empire in its wake. In the first Senatorial elections following the Dominion War, the Enuar (Forward) faction, which supported greater contact with the Empire's neighbors and a general opening of its borders, swept into power on that tide. Militarily, the Romulan Empire has begun efforts to rebuild their forces, and have largely begun to withdraw from joint ventures sponsored under the previous government. They remain a potent force, and though relations between the governments have thawed, tensions continue into the current decade. Klingon Empire - Someone once remarked that, even drunk, Klingons are among the best fighters in the galaxy. In the decades following the Praxis disaster, many among the Klingons had grown restless from years of peace. Tensions between the Federation and the Klingon governments came to head with the brief conflict between the two over the Klingon invasion of Cardassia; the Dominion War, however, put to rest those issues as the Federation and Klingon governments took up arms together, in “glorious battle.” The loss of nearly an entire generation of Klingons particularly among the wealthy, landed class has left a void, that, when coupled with the liberalization and domestic reforms of Martok, has resulted in a dissolution of long-held class barriers and new found mobility in Klingon society. Cardassian Union - The last century of Cardassian history has been fraught with war and scarcity. The disastrous alliance with the Dominion that precipitated a war fought in two Quadrants, left Cardassia even weaker than it had been decades. The scorched-earth policy enacted by the Dominion during this period did untold damage to the infrastructure of the Cardassian Union both on homeworld and abroad. Relationships between the current Cardassian government and the other governments have been tense, though cordial. Economically, the Cardassian Union remains in a depressed state, largely dependent on agricultural and industrial subsidy, as well as trade with the Federation. As a result Union remains weakened and politically vulnerable. Gamma Quadrant Powers Dominion - For hundreds of years, the Dominion has ruled their area of the Gamma Quadrant with unquestioned authority. The defeat against the Allies in the Alpha Quadrant marked the first in their history; still, the strength of the Dominion in their own quadrant remains formidable. The situation may have remained status quo, however, had Odo not taken the rest of the Founders into ‘Glorious Isolation’ following the end of the conflict, leaving the Dominion in hands of a caretaker government known as the ‘Vorta Council.’ Dozens of systems have begun to claim independence, with both peaceful and violent revolutions, and more systems asking for greater autonomy. To date, the Dominion has largely allowed smaller, less strategic systems to live peacefully. Additionally, they have pulled back from a number of similar systems without prompt by the locals in an effort to consolidate their forces, leaving power vacuums that various factions seek to fill. Though tenuous, the Council remains in control of a set core worlds roughly equal to an area twice the size of the Federation. First Scorpiad – Dominion War Prior to their contact with the Scorpiads, the Founders had been a (mostly) peaceful society that by-and-large maintained amicable relations with solids. The destruction of the Founder’s original homeworld by the Scorpiad Empire changed the course of relations between the Founders and solids. When the Founders eventually emerged, they did so with an army of genetically engineered soldiers known as the Jem’Hadar and their counterparts the Vorta. After securing a large area of space in the general area of their original homeworld, the Founder’s turned their attentions to the Scorpiads. The conflict raged for years, leaving hundreds of worlds in ruin. Domestic issues, combined with pressures along the Scorpiads frontiers in the Delta Quadrant eventually shifted the tide in favor of the Dominion and resulted in an uneasy, but lasting peace between the two races, and one that would last for several thousand years before being shattered in 2383. Scorpiad - The exact age of the Scorpiad Empire remains shrouded in mystery, as does much else about the reclusive, arachnid species. What is known is that they are very old, very technologically advanced and extremely territorial. For generations little remained unchanged in Scorpiad society, or their space. According to Dominion records, they had already established a large empire by the time of first contact with the Founders spanning thousands of light years and reaching into the edges of the Delta Quadrant. Federation intelligence indicates that Scorpiad culture is highly stratified with strong racial and class barriers. The Scorpiads themselves are in actuality a race of six distinct sub-species, each with a unique role in their society. This structure has been in place for generations, dating back to their pre-warp culture when the ruling Emri unified the various clans and sub-species averting the destruction of the species. (They refer to it as the G’Jak Ladder) A result of apparently very antagonistic early encounters with alien species, the Scorpiad remain highly xenophobic. Few outsiders are ever permitted access to their space, (and even fewer to the colonies primarily inhabited by Scorpiads) most of which are home to low-tech civilizations with little formal infrastructure. The few planets with formal infrastructure tend toward to be those with high strategic or tactical value and as a general rule, have been ‘cleansed’ of any native presence. The Scorpiad defeat at the Battle of Wormhole combined with a full-scale rebellion of the Al-Ucard and Eratians, have slightly diminished the the threat the Scorpiad pose to the Federation. Still, Federation officials remain hesitant to antagonize them. Al-Ucard - First encountered by the Federation starship, Morningstar, the Al-Ucard at first appeared to be entirely unconnected to the Scorpiad Empire. Their homeworld sits in a relatively isolated system roughly 150 light years from Camelot Station. Vaguely humanoid, the Al-Ucard possess many traits of creatures from human folklore known as “vampires.” Further investigation revealed the Al-Ucard to be the result of elaborate genetic manipulation by the Scorpiad Empire to create a rogue Founder hunter. With the cessation of Scorpiad/Dominion hostilities, the Al-Ucard were essentially abandoned by the Scorpiads. For the next thousand years, the Al-Ucard developed on their own, forming a rich culture that defied the Scorpiads and the Hunt. Though not particularly territorial (in comparison to their neighbors) the Al-Ucard developed a network of planets controlled under the auspicious of an elder council of clan leaders. Eratian - First encountered by the Federation during the Dominion-Scorpiad War, little remains known about the Eratians; they have a vague humanoid appearance, but the resemblance is superficial. What is known is that the Eratians feed off the neural energy of other creatures, in particular humanoid races. According to the Eratians, they were created by the Scorpiad to cull client races from Scorpiad holdings. They maintain a vaguely clan-like social structure, centered around ‘Hives’ or loosely autonomous groups of Eratians who follow a matriarch leader. This matriarch leader, known to the Eratians as their ‘Voice,’ handle intra-Hive affairs. Contact between the Federation and the Eratians after the Scorpiad-Dominion War has been amicable, if not fairly limited. Due to their somewhat transient nature, they do not claim any single star system as their own, but instead have laid claim to a number of systems within the Scorpiad Empire as ‘Culling Grounds.’ Though highly territorial, they rarely seek out contact with other species. Hundred - Little is known about the Hundred beyond what they themselves have revealed to outsiders. Led by one known as Eloi, the Hundred themselves are largely composed of those Founders that, like Odo, were sent out to other worlds to investigate, explore and return to Link. It is unknown exactly how many Founders have joined the new link created by Eloi, or how many Vorta and Jem’Hadar have joined their ranks. The goals of the Hundred also remain obscured. Leading up to the Scorpiad Conflict, the Hundred continued to challenge the Council, offering individuals and whole systems their protection. However, during the Scorpiad Conflict, the Hundred provided military assistance to the Dominion and Alpha Quadrant forces. Analysts and military intelligence experts believe that while the Hundred remain a potent military force, much of their forces were lost during the Scorpiad War. That said, they remain an unpredictable element in a politically volatile situation. The Federation does not officially recognize the Hundred as a legitimate body, though they do allow them access to Camelot Station.

The Excalibur’s forward lounge was buzzing with activity. With the sudden surge of both new shipmates and now the freighter crew, it seemed everyone was anxious to have a drink or three. Asher Swain wasn’t entirely sure if he was up for that sort of an evening, but he had a sneaking suspicion that his quarry would be, at the very least, scouting out the scene. To be truthful, he rarely ventured down to the lounge. As the Captain, his presence tended to be somewhat of a, well, mood breaker. The junior officers were keenly aware that you didn’t want to make an ass of yourself in front of the Captain. He hoped that with all the excitement he could perhaps slip into the lounge without much fanfare. He was, of course, wrong. As he entered, one of the younger lieutenants spotted him. “Captain on deck!”He said a little too brightly. “You know what that means!” Swain paused a moment as the assembled Excalibur crew looked towards him, then to the young Lieutenant. “Drinks on the Captain!” The bartender looked to the Captain for his approval and got a patient, well-worn smirk. “I swear, one of these days, these kids are going to get me in trouble.” After the commotion died down a little, Swain started looking for his quarry. Mark Garrison was sitting along the wall opposite of the entryway, surrounded by a few of his fellow freighter crew, and surrounded by them were more junior officers. Mark, for the most part, had secured his alcohol for the night by regaling the kids with tales of the Dominion War and his adventures in the Gamma Quadrant. The senior staff it seemed, weren’t the only victims of what was now going down in the history books at the “Excalibur Incident”. He recognized so little of the crew, enlisted or officer, and only hardened his resolve. This place wasn’t his home, and these people weren’t his friends. Lost in introspection, he’d almost missed Swain approaching his table. “Captain,” he spoke with a good natured smile. I’m a little surprised to see you.” “Mister Garrison,” Swain said approaching. “Mark was it? I thought I’d come down and see how your crew were doing. I had a hunch you’d be here.” “Good instincts,” He raised his glass to Swain before taking a drink. “Good crew as well. Your medical staff was finished with my crew in a few days, and your engineering crew refuses to allow me and mine to assist in your repairs. Though, I think it’s more out of boredom and wanting to do something themselves.” Swain smiled easily as a waiter passed behind him, heading towards a table of junior science officers. “I think they’re all in all a pretty good crew, despite their captain.” He paused a moment before turning slightly more serious. “I was hoping to have a few minutes to talk you.” The ‘alone’ was all but implied. “Of course, I can only imagine what the brass at Camelot would think of your report as-is.” Mark stood, drink in hand, and walked around the table to come face to face with Asher. “Let’s take a walk.” Nodding Swain motioned for Mark to lead on. “I am sure they’ve seen weirder this week, though I am sure that’s not exactly a surprise to you.” “No, I suppose not.” Garrison walked past Swain with a bemused grin. Once they were out of the lounge, and walking down a silent hall, Mark glanced over to him. “So Captain, what would you like to know?” Swain waited almost a full half beat before saying anything. “Well, for starters, the solution to the Korethian Paradox, but I doubt you have that, so I’ll settle for knowing exactly what you were transporting that the raiders risked attacking you on a major trade route?” “Gems, and various precious metals, prospected from various worlds here in the Gamma Quadrant.” “I am a very tolerant man, Mister Garrison, but I don’t particularly like be lied to.” “Well, you are certainly free to scan whatever minute traces of my ship remain. I don’t particularly care if you believe me or not. These raiders have been harassing us a lot as of late. The further the Dominion unravels, the bolder they become. As nice as it is that you saved us, I’m out a ship and load, and you’re not the only one I have to explain myself too.” Considering his response for a few moments, Swain opted for a gentler tone. “Of course,” he said. “I do apologize for not being able to salvage your ship, or your load. “And you’re right. This entire sector is supposed to be under Dominion patrol, but we haven’t seen so much as a trace of a Jem’hadar vessel. At least not on the way back.” Swain frowned and stopped near a window where the star field was steaming by as Excalibur headed towards Camelot Station. Mark stood beside him, considering his words. “They’re in the Tarawani system, performing ‘Exercises’. I had a pick up there, but ran into their fleet in orbit.” Swain lifted his brows. He had read the Intel report about the sudden pull back of Jem’hadar forces, and, combined with what they’d seen on the way to DS9 had wondered exactly what they were upto. “I see,” he said. “Well I guess we’ll have to pick up their slack then.” “Fine by me. The Jem’hadar aren’t very social, or friendly.” Mark turned to Swain. “To be honest, this isn’t something I exactly enjoy doing. Private life brought private debts, and now I captain an antiquated freighter, hoping not to get shot at by those Jem’hadar, or pirates, or blood cults and all the other deadly things in this quadrant. I do miss that about this ship.” Swain grinned ruefully. “You might be the only one. “But I can understand,” he said, rubbing at the tattoo on the back of his left hand, as if it was reminding him of something. “I don’t think I’d know what to do with myself if I left the ‘Fleet. Been too much a part of who I am for too long. Certainly wouldn’t go back home.” “No,” He agreed. “I was born and raised on these ships. It’s all I’ve ever known.” He finished off with a drink. “Well,” Swain said finally. “I’ve likely kept you long enough. I should let you back to your crew. Tell the bartender the rest of your drinks are on me. God knows I’ll regret it later, but thats for calling you a liar.” “I’ll try to leave you something to retire with.” Mark grinned. “That was my problem, always a tab.” Swain gave Mark a good pat on the shoulder. “I didn’t get these tattoos by being a teetotaler you know,” he said with a grin. “Besides, a Captain’s salary is better than a lieutenant’s.” “That is true.” He nodded in agreement. “Though, I’ve never drank with a Captain’s salary either.” He grinned, taking another drink.

Stardate 0412.15 MISSION BRIEFING: The Excalibur continues en route to Domaria V, where the USS Augustine has been conducting a planetary survey, with the Excalibur to be courier to a mission specialist, Dr. Edward Svejk. The Augustine has not been in contact with anyone, though, for almost a month and has not responded to any hails from the Excalibur. Now less than six hours out, Excalibur has entered within the halo of long range sensors, finding the Augustine in a strange orbit with less power than normally expected. TBS was 5-10 minutes.

STARDATE: 0113.13 MISSION BRIEF: After fighting off the raiders, Excalibur discovered that the freighter they had rescued was on the verge of a warp core breach and began evacuating the crew of the freighter. As it turned out, an old friend, former Chief of Security Mark Garrison, happened to be the commanding officer of the freighter. Luckily for both crews, injuries were slight. Excalibur resumed its journey to Camelot station and will be arriving as we pick up.

The Excalibur will be taking the Christmas Holiday off on December 23, 2013; however we will be running on plot for December 30. Hope everyone has a safe, and happy Holiday Season!

O quam cito transit gloria mundi “Keevan.” “Semil.” The two slightly built Vorta males stood, looking each other for a long moment. Neither had ever, in any incarnation, particularly cared for the other. Semil had always found Keevan to be an opportunist, whose lust for power or survival often interfered with doing the work of the Founders. Keevan, on the other hand, saw Semil as a fundamentalist, far too biden to the word of the Founders to see the larger picture. It had come as little surprise to Keevan when he heard Semil had joined the Hundred. He craved, Keevan knew, the embrace of the Gods, even if they were false prophets. Yet as turmoil, change, and underhanded scheming often tended to do, the two had been drawn together. “Do not bother trying to track my signal,” Semil said finally. “I would think you would know I would have thought of that already, dear Keevan.” Sneering, Keevan waved dismissively. “I give you more credit than that.” “I suppose, or you wouldn’t have called me.” “Yes...” “So what is it, do you wish to join the Hundred, the true gods?” Keevan frowned deeply. “They may be of the Founders, but they are little more than children. I would never commit such heresy.” “Suit yourself,” Semil said, walking past Keevan,stopping for a moment to stroke his chin before circling. “Though if you ever wish to embrace the True Gods, the door will always be open.” “I didn’t ask you here so you could … proselytize the word of your child-gods.” “This must be hard for you,” Semil said, stopping in his circling and nearly whispering into Keevan’s ear. “To have tried so hard to eradicate the Hundred, and now are forced to ask for our help.” Cringing, Keevan took a deep breath. Had he only succeeded. “Or to be taunted. I asked you here because I thought, that despite everything else about you, your loyalty to the idea of the Dominion had not wavered.” “The Dominion was and is the best hope for peace in this Quadrant, but times have changed. The Vorta can no longer simply use force to keep the peace.” “I see.” Keevan said with a sigh. “So you agree with this non-sense.” “If you mean Taenix’s efforts to negotiate peaceful settlements and increase autonomy to client worlds, then yes. “For all your cunning, Keevan you still surprise me. I would think you, of all people, would be the first to see that that change was coming, yet you have elected to stand by the traditionalists, why?” “Our people are a dying race Semil. How long before we run out of viable genetic material to make new clones. How many more Keevans, Weyouns, or Semils do you think we can produce? How long do you think, without the Founder’s words, we can continue to lead the Jem’Hadar? How long before our hold upon them is weakened and they turn upon us?” “That is why you must embrace the Hundred, Keevan. They can give clarity to this chaos. Eloi and the others understand that force alone can no longer be used to keep the peace, that blind obedience programed into our genetic code is a poor substitute for free will.” Semil stopped for a moment. “What do you mean, without the word of the Founders? Does Taenix not speak with them? Does she not use the device recovered by the Federation...” “Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?” “So, it is as I assumed. The device does not work....” “No,” Keevan interjected quickly. “It works..” “What?” Keevan grinned, despite himself. It was nice, for a change, to know more than Semil. “The Founders -- or more specifically Odo -- have decreed that they will not return to us. he has further instructed her to take the device to Eloi so that he may compel the Hundred to join the New Link in seclusion. Only then, he believes, can they begin to … how did he put it … begin to heal the old wounds and become enlightened.” Semil said nothing. His pale eyes went vacant. Was Keevan being truthful? Considering the source he had to wonder. “And so Taenix has kept this from the others? She has disobeyed the word of the Founders, the word of Odo?” “Yes,” Keevan said. “She believes that if she admits that the Founders are gone, that they have abandoned us, that the Jem’Hadar will turn on us, that the Dominion will break apart as the worlds no longer fear the Jem’Hadar, and that the Hundred will not join Odo in the New Link.” “I see. Then she is doing as she was programed. But I wouldn’t see why you would particularly mind, Keevan “After all, you’ve thrown your lot in with those who would take even stronger actions against rebelling worlds.” “I do what must be done,” Keevan said defensively. “Odo said nothing about letting the client worlds declare independence. He said nothing about undoing the Founder’s legacy, their monument...” “I doubt that he would see the subjugation of billions of people as the legacy he wanted to leave for his people. Eloi...” “They are children.” “They are Gods.” “Or is that you are afraid that without the need to forcibly control people, that we would have no need of you?No need of the Vorta to hold the leash upon the Jem’Hadar?” “I see that asking you here was a mistake,” Keevan said, raising his voice. “I see now that you have no interest in preserving the Dominion.” “I only wish to serve the Founders, Keevan. Nothing more. Our time is ending. Soon there will be no need for the Vorta, or the Jem’Hadar. One day you will understand.”

The Excalibur will not running this week. Have a good Thanksgiving!

“Being powerful is like being a lady. If you have to tell people you are, you aren't.” ~ Margaret Thatcher “What news from the delegation to Tarawani?” Taenix glanced up from the report she was getting ready to read to the Vorta Council on grain production. She frowned and put the report down. Aelon, a tall, slender Vorta female who led a faction of liberals who had advocated for peacefully dismantling the Dominion, waited for her response. Clearing her throat, Taenix remained even. “They are ongoing.” Aelon lifted a brow. Like all Vorta, her pale, amethyst eyes belied little. “That doesn’t answer my question, Taenix.” Across from Taenix, Weyoun glanced to both women before settling his eyes on Taenix. Next to him, Keevan and Faelic did the same. When the Tarawani had first begun pressing for autonomy by organizing protests and strikes at the mining and industrial facilities on their planets, it had been Aelon who had prevailed in convincing Taenix to send an envoy to negotiate, rather than send the Jem’Hadar to quell the resistance. Taenix had said little since Maliv had been dispatched, but all three had learned that the talks had broken down and Maliv had returned without securing order. They also knew that she had quietly put together a fleet from various units and had dispatched it with Maliv with orders to bring the Tarawani under heel, all without informing the Council. “They are proceeding,” Taenix reiterated. Aelon narrowed her glance further. “And how are they proceeding.” “Satisfactorily.” “So we can be assured that all is well?” Taenix looked directly at Aelon, wondering what game she was playing. Faelic and Keevan glanced between each other, also wondering what Aelon knew. If they had learned of Taenix’s actions, couldn’t have Aelon? “The Founders’ will is being done.” “Or is your will,” Aelon said.. “When were you planning on telling us?” For a brief moment, Taenix’s heart stopped. How much did Aeolon know? She wasn’t yet ready to reveal the full truth. “Excuse me, Aelon? Are you challenging my authority as leader of this Council? I speak with the voice of the Founders...” Silence engulfed the room as the two women exchanged stares. By Vorta standards, it was positively hostile. “I am asking for clarification, Taenix,” Aelon said calmly. “When this Council last discussed the issue, we had decided to seek a peaceful solution to the Tarawani Issue.” Relieved Taenix tipped her head slightly. “And we still are. As I said, negotiations are on going.” “Then why,” Aelon said quickly, “have you pulled together a fleet and dispatched them to the system?” “As I said, it is the will of the Founders. The Tarawani do not believe we can continue to enforce our control of the system and have rebuffed our offers. I have dispatched the fleet to show them that our strength has not waned.” “But it has,” Aelon said. “You do not need lie to me. Everyone in this room is aware of how precarious our situation remains. If your actions incite a full scale revolt by the Tarawani, how long will it be before one of the other major races does the same? Do you think you can keep the shackles upon the Karema forever? And that is to say nothing of the Hundred. If we begin using force...” “We have been over this,” Keevan interjected suddenly. “By capitulating we only further invite these rebellions. I for one am glad that Taenix has finally seen this.” “The Klingons have a saying,” Aelon said, thoughtfully. “Destroying an empire to win a war is no victory...” “And ending a battle to save an Empire is no defeat,” Weyoun said, finishing the phrase. Both he and Aelon had spent much of their time before and during their lead up to the war in the Alpha Quadrant studying the people who they intended to subjugate, and both had a keen fascination with the Klingons. Both Faelic and Keeven looked towards Weyoun. “The fleet will only act,” Taenix said, trying to reign in the debate before it broke down any further, “if the Tarawani continue to refuse our offers. If they do, then we have no choice but to act. The Founders wish that they did not have to give such an order, but they and we have no choice.” Keevan looked away. Lies, “If we lose the resources on Tarawani, we won’t have to worry about what the Hundred might do if we must to put down a larger revolt, because we won’t be able to put down a larger revolt. Ketracel production remains perilously low, and our efforts to reconstruct cloning facilities for Jem’Hadar soldiers remain slow.” “Then why don’t we focus our efforts there,” Faelic said. “Why haven’t we rebuilt the shipyards on Koros Prime, or the cloning facility on Teras II? “Why,” he said with a flourish, “because we remain paralyzed by...” “That is enough, the Founders have laid forth our path. The Dominion will persevere and once we have recovered from the war, and from our own self-inflicted wounds,” Taenix said, casting a long glance at both Faelic and Keevan, “we will restore our full power and prestige, but for now the Founders have counseled caution.” “The Founders,” Weyoun said, “are wise in all things. The path that Taenix leads us is defined by the Founders, and we must walk it. Faith, we must have faith that all will work out as intended.” “Faith...” Keevan said tightly, “yes... we must all have faith.”

STARDATE: 1112.18 MISSION BRIEF: The crew continued to enjoy a few days of leave, and even got to meet some of their new crew -- socially. Recall orders have been given and Excalibur will be shipping back to Camelot.

Quark’s was rarely quiet these days. With the galaxy largely at peace, and traffic to the Gamma Quadrant at the highest in years, the Ferengi’s now legendary bar hummed with activity nightly. This evening was no exception. Behind Thomas Ellington, two Volian traders were arguing over which of them deserved a night with the dabo girl. Smirking the Marine Major, ordered another drink. “I’ll have another of whatever this was...” he said, alluding to the purple drink that burned down his throat like a plasma fire. The bartender nodded and headed to make it. “I believe they’re called Albearean Protostars,” a voice next to him said. “They’ll turn your mouth purple.” “Lovely,” he said without looking over to the voice. “They taste good.” “I am sure they do.” Finally looking over, he noticed a human woman in what he imagined to be in her 30’s. She was wearing a red command uniform, with three pips. Lovely. “What would you suggest then?” Grinning over a glass of deep red wine, the Lieutenant Commander eyed the marine. Ebony skinned with curly, close cut hair, he couldn’t have been a day over thirty. “The Bajoran’s have managed to cultivate a pretty good attempt at a malbec,” she said tipping the glass back. “Though after what you just drank, I doubt you could even taste it.” Ellington took his newly refreshed drink in hand, slid a credit chip over to the bartender and knocked it back with ease, then coughed. “I am telling you,” the Lieutenant Commander said, taking another drink of wine, “the Bajoran Malbec.” Putting his glass down, Ellington looked over at her. “So, you going to to introduce yourself, or just keep taunting me?” “Taunting jar-heads is always fun,” she said. “But I suppose I do owe you an introduction.” “Barnacles,” he said lowly as he took another drink. “Always think you’re so cool.” “Who said I was a … barnacle? I am not even wearing gold!” Remaining quiet, he continued drinking. “Anyway,” she said putting her wine glass down on the counter. “I am Lieutenant Commander Constance d'Aubigné, though my friends call me Rooster.” “Rooster?” He said with a little disbelief. “What kind of nickname is that? You don’t even have red hair!” “Not anymore,” she said with a wide grin. “Hair dye is a magical invention on par with alcohol and holodecks. Now, are you going to repay the favor?” “The fa -- oh right -- I am Major Thomas Ellington, though nobody calls me that.” “Then what do they call you? Duke?” Laughing and taking another drink, Ellington grinned. “Jazz.” “Cute.” “Thanks,” Ellington said with a wide grin. “I do my best.” “So, Duke,” d'Aubigné said, “just what brings you to DS9?” “Jazz,” he corrected her, “and I am waiting for my ship to come in.” He took another drink, finishing off the black concoction. “Oh,” she said mischievously, “waiting for your ship to come in. Is that supposed to be some sort of Marine come-on-line?” Ellington blushed, despite himself, and waived the bartender over for another drink, though he considered asking for water. “I meant that literally.” Sipping her wine, and enjoying toying with the marine -- a little like a cat with a mouse -- d'Aubigné smirked. “Oh, so you’re on stand by too?” “Yeah,” Ellington said. “You?” “I suppose I am waiting for my ship to come in, as well,” d'Aubigné said. “And what ship is that?” “The Excalibur.” Ellington turned to face her with a sort of horrified look. “Tell me you’re not their new XO...” d'Aubigné giggled. “Hardly.” Relieved, Ellington took his drink, making a mental note to nurse this one, all the same. “Oh,” he said. “Good to know. Didn’t want to look like a drunken lout in front of my new boss.” “So you must be one of the Marines from the … 49th was it?” “You bet,” he said proudly, “finest outfit in the fleet. What about you then?” “I am the new CAG.” Ellington groaned. The only thing worse than a security goon was a flyboy...err girl in this case. Talk about egos. “Flygirls...” he said, shaking his head. “Ha!” d'Aubigné said finishing her wine. “So what do you know about her?” “Who?” d'Aubigné said raising her eyebrow. “The Excalibur.” “Oh,” she said. After a moment of thought, she continued. “Not much really. I know that they’ve been assigned to the GQ for pretty much the last six years. They’ve had what, three different commanding officers in two years? Some crazed Dameon, some other guy I’d never heard of, and the guy they have now... Asher Swain. Just lost their XO and Chief Engineer. Apparently they have quite the reputation for, well how to put it …” “They get all the ‘fun’ assignments,” Ellington said over his drink. “At least that was what some other people had heard. Their former Marine CO was an alright guy, I didn’t know him too well, but I’ve read his reports. Looks like we’re going to have a lot of … fun.” “Yeah,” she said flatly. “Same here with their old CAG.” “So what about Swain?” “The Captain?” “Yeah.” “Never really heard anything about him before now. I guess he’s seasoned enough,” d'Aubigné said. “Though he doesn’t have a whole lot of experience when it comes to combat.” “Yeah, I read his file. Science geek,” Ellington said, before adding. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, just not the type you expect to see commanding an Akira.What about the XO?” d'Aubigné wrinkled her nose. “Miranda Hawthorne.” “Oh?” Ellington said. He’d yet to hear the name of his new boss. “Yeah. That’s all I know though.” “Lovely,” he said. “Nothing like a bunch of people who don’t know each other being tossed into the fire.” “Gotta learn somehow.” “I suppose.” “Though from what I’ve heard,” d'Aubigné said, letting her rather catty side take over. “We won’t be getting anything to ‘fun’ right away. I guess the brass at Camelot is ticked at Swain over something that happened on their last mission.” “Oh?” “Yeah. Though don’t ask me what. Apparently their last mission is classified.” “They seem to get a lot of those.” “That’s what worries me.” “Yeah...”

“Good morning, Captain,” Alexander Calypsos glanced up to meet the eyes of the station’s chief operations officer. “Commander.” For a long moment the two exchanged glances. Since Calypsos had come to the station over two years ago, he’d come to implicitly trust and rely on the even keeled Sprint to keep things from falling apart when something went wrong, which in this quadrant it seemed to do more than in any other posting he could remember. “Please, have a seat Corris.” “Thank you, sir.” Nonplussed, as ever, Sprint took a seat opposite of Calypsos. Sprint, for his part, had come to respect the Captain as well. During his time aboard Camelot, he had served under three different commanding officers: first the ever logical and orderly Sorehl; the emotional, sometimes erratic Corizon; and now Calypsos. Calypsos seemed to be somewhere in between. “I understand we’re having some communications difficulties today?” “Yes,” Sprint said. “Appears to be a subspace anomaly between here and the wormhole. Not entirely unusual, but we’re looking into it.” Calypsos nodded. “We seem to be having more trouble than usual lately with our communications.” Having learned more than lesson or two from Sorehl in restraint, Sprint remained calm. “We have had a rash of ion storms lately, sir. Those do tend to cause trouble.” “I suppose,” he said. “Still, I’d like for operations to do a full review of communications protocols and diagnostic of all the arrays.” “Of course. I’ll start right away. Was there anything else, Captain?” “No,” Calypsos said. “I’ll expect the report by the end of the week.” Sprint nodded. Standing he headed for the door. “One more thing,” Calypsos said as Sprint exited. “Yes, sir?” Sprint said pausing at the door. “I’d stay clear of the Admiral for a while,” the Captain said. “He’s more than a little grumpy towards you at the moment.” “I’ll do my best, Captain.” “Of course you will, not get out of my office.” “Yes, sir.” -- “This is exactly what I was talking about.” “Sir?” Misha Abronvonvich glowered over his monitor before turning it to face the red headed scientist sitting across from him, revealing a static filled screen. “Every time you turn around in this godforsaken quadrant,” he continued in his ever-thickening Russian accent, “we have some anomaly or ion storm or god knows what else causing communications trouble. This is supposed to be a classified briefing on Starbase Lyonesse construction. Does it look like that to you, Dr. Ellis?” Frowning, Phillip Ellis shook his head. “No, it doesn’t.” “I thought you’re wonder array down there was supposed to solve this problem.” Running a hand through his hair, and shifting in his seat, Ellis shook his head. “Bedevere, Admiral, isn’t just any subspace array. It’s a highly advanced piece of machinery that like any advanced piece of technology requires the correct conditions to work.” “Yes, yes, so you’ve told me,” Abronvonvich said tersely. “Which is ironic.” “Admiral?” “It’s ironic that the damned thing was supposed to provide more reliable communications with the Alpha Quadrant, yet it's somehow more temperamental than my ex-wife.” Ellis frowned deeper. He rather resented the notion. The large communications array on the planet below had been the culmination of years of work by a small army of specialists. It was one of the, if not the, most advanced communications array ever built by Starfleet. “Misha,” Ellis said forgetting himself for a moment, “I am sorry you missed your briefing, but if you called me up here just to complain I am going to be more than a little annoyed. Do you have any idea the precision required to beam a communication in real-time over 70,000 light years? It’s not like you’re calling next door.” “I know that,” Abronvonvich said. “I am not an idiot.” Giving him a look Ellis shook his head. “Then why did you call me up from the planet? I could be working on the array.” “Listen Doct--Phillip,” Abronvonvich said, catching himself before he launched into a tirade he might regret later. “I understand that you’re doing your best, and that the array you’ve built is very advanced, but quite frankly, your best isn’t good enough anymore. I don’t mean that to be insulting.” “Could have fooled me.” Abronvonvich softened his expression. “That’s not what I meant.” Remaining skeptical, Eliis waited for the explanation. “What I mean is that I am concerned about our ability to maintain a secure line of communications with command. You don’t have to lecture me about how Bedevere works. To be honest I don’t really care. I know that playing ping-pong with quasars is neither easy or reliable...” “That’s an understatement,” “Anyway,” Abronvonvich continued. “All I care about is being able to stay in touch with Command when it counts. Yeah, it may just be some boring briefing that I would have rather have missed anyway this time, but next time it could be a warning about possible Dominion activity, or who knows what. The point is we need to be able to communicate.” “Misha -- Admiral,” Ellis said, regaining his composure. “I understand your concerns, believe me I do. I’ve spent the last four years working to solve that problem and...” “Yes,” Abronvonvich said, “and so far you’ve done an incredible job, but...” “But what? It’s not like I can suddenly change the laws of time and space, just because you want me to.” “I am not asking you for that.” “Then what are you asking for?” Abronvonvich shifted in his seat, taking a moment before responding. “I would like you and you’re cadre of brilliant minds down on the planet to begin working on ways to make the system more reliable.” Ellis sighed heavily. “I just told you I can’t change the laws of time and space.” “No,” Abronvonvich said with a grin, “But you can try.”

STARDATE: 1012.21 MISSION BRIEF: En route to DS9, Excalibur encountered a large Dominion fleet headed towards the Tarawani system; the Vorta aboard indicated they were conducting training exercises. Excalibur continued to monitor their movements and sent them back to Camelot before continuing to DS9.

Gliding through a pocket of interstellar gas on its twenty-two day jaunt from Camelot to Deep Space 9, the Excalibur’s commanding officer sat sullenly looking out the window of his quarters as the brilliant blue and green gasses gave way before his ship, after a few moments of clear space, the familiar flash followed by the streaming starfield of warp travel filled the panorama. The Excalibur felt somehow incredibly lonely. He had never, to be truthful, settled in to his quarters -- he actually still had a couple of unpacked boxes stashed away in a closet -- or the ship more generally. It was big, the crew not his own, and the mission profiles drifted further and further away from the ones he’s become so adept and familiar at handling for the near decade he’d commanded the Idrisi. He had let himself become complacent in his solitude. It had simply been easier to retreat into his ready room than to learn his new crew. It had been simply easier to stay away and hope that the assignment ended soon. Now, however, he was facing the reality that Excalibur was his home. Swain stood and made his way to the fresher, pulling off his red command undershirt and throwing it in the fresher. Earlier in the day they had intercepted a squadron -- no fleet -- of Dominion attack ships and troop transports flying the flag on an unannounced trip to the Tarawani sector. Matsumura had commented that it was the largest grouping she’d seen since the Dominion war, and indeed, it was for him as well. His thoughts lingered to the images of the fleet moving towards Tarawani. The Vorta functionary, Maliv, had said they were conducting military exercises, and perhaps they were, but it made Swain feel disquieted nonetheless. Lookin in the mirror for a long moment, his eyes darting to the two stylized raven’s tattooed on his chest. They had been Charlie Ostander’s idea one night during a rather raucous leave while they were in the academy. To be entirely honest he’d rather forget what the reasoning behind them had been. Still they served as a reminder to him of happier, easier times when the cares of the world seemed long removed. Putting a hand to them, he smiled. Perhaps it was time to let the dead be the dead. The crew needed a captain, not a whimpering, sulking baby. They were getting new crew, a new executive officer, and if the fleet they ran across had been any indication, unsettled times in the Dominion. If he continued to sulk, continued to stay shut away in his ready room, then the crew would suffer, and he would lose them entirely. His thoughts wandered for a moment, as he ran his hands over the tattoos again, and then he remembered their meaning.

STARDATE: 1012.14 MISSION BRIEF: Excalibur has been ordered to head to DS9 to pick up a new rotation of crew members, including an as yet to be named executive officer. In the interim, being down both a Chief Engineer and and XO, Captain Swain has named Chief of Security Ryan Messner as his acting XO for the trip to DS9. With any luck, the 40 ly trip from Camelot to the Wormhole will be uneventful. 101412.txt

“The candle flame gutters. Its little pool of light trembles. Darkness gathers. The demons begin to stir.” ~ Carl Sagan Taenix frowned. Her long, jet black hair swayed gently as she tipped her head to one side, her pale, nearly translucent amethyst eyes held no emotion. Only the creases around her thin, colorless lips betrayed her displeasure. “Maliv,” she said coolly to the thin, sharp-featured Vorta that stood motionless before her. “This is unacceptable.” The male Vorta remained motionless. “You were entrusted with settling this dispute peaceably, and in a fashion that benefited the Dominion.” “With all due respect,” Maliv said, “those are not entirely compatible directives.” Taenix narrowed her gaze. “Elaborate.” “The people of Tarwani would not accept our proposals. They want freedom.” “So do all chained beasts,” Taenix said coldly. “That doesn’t mean that you simply unshackle them. I don’t think I have to explain to you the importance of Tarwani to our overall strategic position.” “No,” he said shortly. “You do not.” “Then how could you simply let this happen?” “I did not see any alternative, short of culling them.” Looking away for a moment, Taenix straightened in her chair. “The Founders will be most displeased with your results. Surely you did not exhaust all peaceful options.” Shaking his head, Maliv frowned. “Again, I did everything possible, but the Tarwani remained steadfast in their desire for independence. If the Founders are displeased, then I am prepared to prostrate myself before them, but I do not see how I could have resolved the situation in a way that did not end in bloodshed.” For a long moment Taenix considered her response carefully. For months now, she had been continuing the fiction that she had been in contact with the Founders, with Odo, and had been receiving her directives from them. Only a few in her most inner circle knew the truth, that Odo had ordered her and the rest of the Vorta to turn the device over to the Hundred so that Odo could commune with them and bring them into his Glorious Isolation as well. They also did not know what the Female Founder had communicated to Weyoun on his last trip to the Alpha Quadrant -- that the Founders had abandoned the Dominion. In the time since she had become aware of that reality, she had questioned her own faith in the Founders, in herself and in the Dominion. She had struggled to comply with the directive from Odo. Ultimately she had decided, for now, to defy the order. Such defiance had taken a toll on her, physically and mentally. Her impulse had been to activate the small implant that would cause her death, but something deep inside of her resisted. Something told her not to, that her defiance was not from a lack of faith, or disloyalty to those who had given her life, but instead a sign of her devotion to the Gods, to their creation. So, finally, she had resolved to carrying out what she believed to be the true will of the Founders. Even if they did not know it now, or did not recognize it -- the Dominion was their legacy. It had to endure. Without the Dominion, the chaos that had once engulfed the Gamma Quadrant would reign again. She could not, would not allow that to happen. “Then if it is blood that will be required to yoke the Tarawani, then blood it will be.” Maliv shifted, visibly uncomfortable with the suggestion. “But, with all due respect, I thought the Founders wished us to resolve these issues peacefully.” It was true. Taenix had told the council that the Founders wished them to rule more, peacefully, more sensitively. When the uprisings began it gave her room to work. She knew all too well that she no longer commanded the forces once at the fingertips of the Vorta. The war in the Alpha Quadrant had weakened the Dominion, but it had been the nearly three year war with the Scorpiad’s that had wrecked havoc. In matters of months the Dominion’s cloning facilities, ship-yards and weapons production facilities had been decimated. It would take years to rebuild the infrastructure , and she could ill-afford a full scale rebellion among the worlds of the Dominion. So far none of the major worlds within the Dominion had pushed for full independence, until now it had only been smaller, less important worlds that the Dominion could easily allow to leave after a bit of threatre on their part. Now though, the Tarwani, a key world for the Dominion’s military efforts due to the large resources and central location, had begun pushing for peace. The council feared that if they were allowed to declare independence that others, like the commercially important Karema, would soon follow. “When at all possible,” she added quickly. “However, the importance of Tarawani to our interests makes that not entirely possible, as you say.” “They do not believe in our threats,” Maliv said. “They believe us incapable of putting down a rebellion. Further they believe that if they were to force our hand, militarily, that the Federation would intervene on their behalf, just as they have others.” “And what do you believe?” “I do not know what I believe,” Maliv said quietly. “If the Founders will us to keep the Tarawani in the Dominion by force, then that is their will and I will carry out those orders. But I do wonder if we are truely capable of that.” Taenix steeled herself. It was true that their forces were spread thin. The weakness of the Dominion relative to its former status was no secret, and as they had lightened patrols where possible, and pulled back from less strategic positions, others had moved to fill that vacuum. “You will have the forces you require. Return to the Tarawani, make it clear that independence is not an option. We will agree to allowing them a greater amount of autonomy and self-governance; we will allow them to engage in independent trade negotiations and to develop their own defensive networks, however our strategic military presence will remain, and we will continue to maintain ownership of 70% of their natural resources. Tell them refusal to accept this offer will force us to secure those rights by force. I will dispatch the 3rd and 6th tactical commands to your disposal. Do not fail the Founders again, Maliv.” Maliv straightened and bowed his head respectfully. “As the Founders will it -- it will be.”

STARDATE: 1012.14 MISSION BRIEF: Excalibur has been ordered to head to DS9 to pick up a new rotation of crew members, including an as yet to be named executive officer. In the interim, being down both a Chief Engineer and and XO, Captain Swain has named Chief of Security Ryan Messner as his acting XO for the trip to DS9. With any luck, the 40 ly trip from Camelot to the Wormhole will be uneventful.

MISSION BRIEF: Word has begun to spread of Wydown's departure from the crew, and the rumors circulate that Admiran has also left. The crew has, meanwhile, been enjoying leave for several days since their return from the stressful mission to Domaria. Recall orders have gone out, and the crew has been told to report back to the Excalibur.

STARDATE: 1012.07 MISSION BRIEF: Word has begun to spread of Wydown's departure from the crew, and the rumors circulate that Admiran has also left. The crew has, meanwhile, been enjoying leave for several days since their return from the stressful mission to Domaria. Recall orders have gone out, and the crew has been told to report back to the Excalibur.

The doors to Vice-Admiral Misha Abronvonvich’s office slid open unceremoniously, and Asher Swain entered slowly. His head was still spinning from the night before. Modern medicine had made incredible strides in treating just about any condition, and though the lollipop guild (as he called his medical staff) offered remedy for the common hangover, Asher had always found that the treatment somehow left him feeling worse than the hangover. Sitting with his back turned to the door, Abronvonvich frowned. “Captain Swain,” he said, “please, have a seat.” Pausing for a moment as the Admiral spoke, Swain moved quickly to find a seat opposite the Admiral. “Admiral...” Abronvonvich turned to face Swain, his expression surprisingly neutral. “Can I get you anything to drink, Captain? Juice, water, coffee, tea?” Taken aback by the unexpected courtesy, Swain shook his head. “No, thank you though.” “Of course.” Abronvonvich pushed back from his desk slightly, enough to allow him to cross his legs in his chair. “I was sorry to hear about your XO’s... ‘leave of absence’ “For a doctor, she seemed to be handling the second chair pretty well … especially during her time with the dog.” Swain wasn’t entirely sure what to say to that. “I don’t suppose there’s anything you can do about that is there?” The Russian’s face contorted. “Unfortunately, no. It did not, I assure you, run through my office.” Leaning back in his chair, Swain nodded and ran a hand through his beard. “I see.” Since he’d first read the memo he’d been curious how involved the Admiral had been with the mess, and even now, he still wasn’t sure. “Captain,” Abronvonvich continued. “I won’t beat around the bush. I am not exactly thrilled with your … attitude as of late, particularly in the last mission,” he held up a hand to stop any response Swain might have been forming. “But I also wouldn’t pull your XO out from under you -- I was a Captain myself once, you know.” Swain nodded, though in the back of his mind he didn’t entirely trust the Russian. “Of course, sir.” “Though I do want to stress how important it is, Asher, that you understand my point of view on the larger issue. This damned quadrant is chaotic enough without captains going prima donna everytime a mission gets a little murky.” Asher wasn’t sure if it was the tone, the content or just the latent tendency of a hangover to make him irritable that annoyed him about that statement, but in any case he did his best simply to nod it off. “Of course.” “Like I said, I understand where you’re coming from. You didn’t have all the facts and it was a stressful situation. I am willing, for now, to write this off as a one time occurrence. Just don’t make it habit.” That was the best he could do? Swain sighed and nodded pensively. “Of course, sir. It won’t happen again.” “See that it doesn’t.” Abronvonvich said. “As to the communications issue, I’ve ordered Captain Calypsos to have station operations do a full diagnostic to make sure we don’t have any more issues like this one.” Still pretending you didn’t get my message, I see? Swain nodded again. He’d been around long enough to have learned when to keep his mouth shut. “I’ll expect a full report as soon as possible.” “Of course.” Swain said. “I assume that Dr. Svejk has...” “About that...” “Yes?” “I would recommend,” Abronvonvich said sternly, “in the future, that when you have a mission specialist assigned directly from HQ that you not confine him to quarters.” Swain smiled sheepishly. “Confine is an awfully strong word.” “You put him under guard.” “Health risk.” Abronvonvich looked at Swain dubiously before shaking his head. “As I said, don’t pull that stunt again.” A bit like a mischievous school-boy, Swain nodded studiously. “Of course, sir.” After a long silence, Abronvonich cleared his throat. “At any rate, Asher, I think we can both agree that your tenure as Captain of the Excalibur hasn’t exactly been what you expected.” Swain nodded. It was true and there was no point in denying it. “I think that’s fair.” “Well,” Abronvonvich said, “welcome to the Gamma Quadrant. Nothing about this place is ever what you expect. One moment you think you’ve got the place figured out, the next you don’t know which end of your ass is up. “And I know this isn’t exactly the kind of command you want either.” Again Swain nodded, thinking of his conversation at the Grail. Excalibur was a fine ship, with a fine crew, but something about it just hadn’t fell into place. “If you’re asking if I want reassigned....” “No,” Abronvonvich said swiftly. “I am not. And frankly, I don’t think it would happen anyway. Not with Wydown being pulled off assignment and trucked back to Earth, and especially not with your Chief Engineer leaving...” The dull, throbbing in Swain’s head suddenly became much worse. “What?” Genuinely surprised, Abvronvonvich paused. “He hadn’t told you yet?” “No,” Swain said, closing his eyes. “I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him for any length of time since we got back.” “Ah, sorry to be the bearer of bad news then, Asher. I assumed he’d already spoken to you when we spoke.” Unable to keep himself in check, Swain opened his mouth. “Spoke? What?” Shifting slightly, Abronvonvich kept his tones measured. “Yes, he came to me shortly after your docked. I am sorry, I thought you knew.” “And asked you for what, exactly?” “A transfer.” “And you approved it without...” Swain stopped himself. “A transfer. Why and to where?” “It hasn’t been approved yet. Not officially anyway. With your XO leaving, I thought it best to hold off on sending the paperwork through. As to where and why....” Swain suddenly, and for the first time since waking up with the hangover from hell, wanted a drink. “Captain, I’ll be honest with you. I thought your predecessor made some mistakes along the way. One of them was maybe Admiran. “He’s a hell of an engineer. Brilliant really. Though I suppose that comes with seven lifetimes of experience, but to be honest, not sending him back to the Trill homeworld after the incident with the Scorpiad warship...” Swain frowned. He’d read the insert in Admirans’ personnel file and had not too silently wondered just how many strings and favors Corizon had called in on that one. He had also wondered if had been a mistake. “To be honest sir, I can’t say I disagree. However, the Commander has never expressed a view that he was unhappy with the Excalibur.” “He’s not. Well, not the Excalibur specifically.” Abronvonvich paused for a moment, leaning back into his chair as he did. When he did, his voice was softer and more reflective. “When I was on the Truman, Captain, we were attacked by the Cardassians while on a humanitarian mission. My brother was killed in the attack.” Swain sat listening, quietly. “Kosta and I were very close. We had, since birth, been each other’s best friends. In fact, to that point, we’d never been apart more than a few months at a time. He was the leader and I was always his loyal comrade, his lieutenant. That was simply how it worked. “When the Cardassians attacked, Kosta and I were on watch. He was XO and I was Chief of Security. We had been transporting medical supplies to a colony on the border. The Cardassians apparently had decided to annex it. “The first salvo destablized our entire power-grid and an EPS conduit on the bridge ruptured. Kosta managed to find cover, but he was badly burned. The Captain was trapped on the lower decks, leaving me in command. Had I retreated, we would have maybe been able to get Kosta to medical and perhaps he would still be alive, but I didn’t. I stood my ground. And Kosta... well. “After it was all over, I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with myself. I had never been without him, and even though I knew he would have wanted me to do what I did, I couldn’t help but blame myself. The hell of it was, the Cardassians ended up with the planet anyway and summarily eradicated the entire population.” Abronvonich stopped for a second and shook his head. Swain, still listening silently, considered both the Russian and Admiran, and for a moment personnel issues seemed somewhat petty. “Captain, I am tell you all this because I can understand what Admiran is going through. After the attack, I left Starfleet. I just sort of wandered around the galaxy, searching for answers, for purpose.” “And I guess you eventually found it then?” “No,” Abronvonvich said. “All I found was a wife -- never get married by the way -- and a few broken bones from bar fights.” Despite himself, Swain chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” “When Admiran came to me, he asked me to accept his resignation -- he didn’t think you would. I told him I wouldn’t either. I told him the same story I just told you.” “And?” “He told me that he didn’t need a lecture on dealing with death, he’d lived enough lifetimes to know about that.” Swain smirked. “Sounds accurate.” “He said, Captain, that he needed a purpose. I told him I understood.” “So, why is he transfering then.” “Because I believe I have a way for him to find that purpose.” Swain exhaled. He had been worried about Admiran, and while he was certainly happy that perhaps the Admiral had found a way to help him, he wasn’t entirely sure he liked it. “And?” “He will be reporting to a new position with the advanced research division. As I said, I questioned Corizon’s wisdom in not sending him back to the Trill homeworld to see if they could remove the … starship … from him, but as it turns out, that might be one of the best things Corizon has done.” Lifting a brow, Swain quickly connected the dots. “I see. Well, I suppose there’s no need to protest then, if this was his decision.” “It was. I thought he would have told you, but maybe he was waiting for the right time.” Swain nodded and exhaled. “Well, this makes things more complicated. Especially since we were due for crew rotation.” “Yes,” Abronvonvich said, straightening his posture. “Which brings me back to my original point. “I know that this isn’t the assignment you want. I know that you’d be much happier on the Idrisi, but unfortunately, that isn’t going to happen anytime soon. I apologize for keeping you in the dark about the quarantine. I have orders the same as you do...” “Sir, permission to speak freely?” The Russian frowned, but after a moment nodded. “Granted.” “I understand that you may have had orders to keep me in the dark about that, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it, or that I am going to keep quiet about my displeasure. Sir, 140 people died on the Augustine, plus those of my crew. Not to mention how perilously close my own landing party came to that same fate. I would never have sent them down if I knew there was a quarantine. “Now, I know you say that Camelot didn’t receive our transmission, and I am not even going to touch that, but dammit you knew good and well what Augustine was up to out there and you knew there was at least a decent chance they’d lost containment. I’ve known Charlie Ostander too long to think that he went cowboy on this and decided to break a quarantine of his own volition, but I also know that the official records say that Augustine was to check on the status of said quarantine. So let me be blunt.” Swain wasn’t exactly sure if it was the hangover that was keeping him from shutting himself up, or just complete and total frustration being finally let out, but in either case he was too deep in now to simply back off. “I might be a scientist at heart, but I’m not exactly a wet-behind-the-ears first-timer either. I want, no I need to know why the Augustine broke the quarantine and why, knowing that there was a quarantine, knowing that is was broken, knowing that the Augustine had gone silent, and knowing that the high IQ boys were sending out Svejk -- for god knows what reasons -- that anyone could possibly think, even for a moment, that it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell the Captain of the ship you were sending to check up on the Augustine what the hell was going on. And don’t you dare, don’t you dare tell me it’s classified. “Admiral, you told me a story, now it’s my turn. Charlie Ostander was my friend. Had been since we were cadets. I’ve known the man over half my life, and yeah he could be brash, but I know damned well he wouldn’t break a quarantine to satisfy curiosity, but I also know he would do it if ordered. That’s where we were always different. Hell it’s why we hadn’t talked in five years...” Swain trailed off for a moment. He felt himself becoming far more emotional than he’d planned, and for the second time this morning, he desperately wanted a drink. Sitting across from him, Abronvonvich leaned back in his chair. There was something about Swain’s passion that surprised him. Honestly, he couldn’t blame him for being upset. Doing his best to recomport himself, Swain spoke slowly. “Admiral, I am sorry for getting so emotional. I know I promised to... keep my attitude in check, but damnit I can’t.” Abronvonvich nodded. “To be honest, Asher, I don’t blame you for being upset. I told you, I was a captain once too.” Swain nodded as Abronvonvich continued. “You want the truth, and I suppose you deserve it. “The Augustine’’s mission to Domaria was, as you imagine, classified. It had came directly from Command HQ. Long range sensors had detected several vessels in the area and we were concerned that perhaps they had broken then quarantine. Augustine was in the vicinity and was dispatched to assess the status of the quarantine. When they arrived, they determined that it had not been breached.” “Mhmm,” Swain said. “And then?” Pausing for a moment, considering his words carefully, Abronvonvich resumed. “I don’t need to tell you that this is classified and doesn’t leave this room, do I?” “Of course not,” Swain said tersely. “Command believed that we could begin to safely survey they planet and begin studying the creatures. The Augustine’s sensor readings showed the planet to be dormant, but they must have been...” “Hibernating?” “Something like that. ” “So,” Swain said slowly. “Why was Svejk sent?” “We honestly weren’t sure what had happened to the Augustine. Containment breach was a possibility, but so was simple communications trouble caused by the ion storms.” “I see.” “Excalibur was dispatched because your ship had the flexibility to handle anything thrown at you. It was decided not to tell you about the quarantine so as not to raise too many questions, should everything be fine with the Augustine. Svejk was being dispatched by Command to help the Augustine with the samples they were collecting.” “And if everything wasn’t fine, the chances of me ‘exploring’ were a lot better if we didn’t know there was a quarantine. And, if I might be so bold, Command wanted to know more about what the hell the Dominion was working on.” Abronvonvich nodded. “As I said, I am sorry you were kept in the dark, but I had my orders.” “So what is going to be the official line about the destruction of the Augustine?” Shifting uncomfortably, the Russian’s face furrowed into frown. “That’s not my decision.” “Of course,” Swain said neutrally. “Well, thank you Admiral for telling me the truth. I think you can understand why I needed to know.” Abronvonvich nodded, his expression easing. “Yes. Just don’t make it a habit.” “As I said, of course not.” “Good.” “Now, about your XO....”

Asher Swain sat quietly in the Captain’s Mess drinking tea and playing idly with his breakfast of eggs done slightly over easy and potatoes. Replicated eggs. Replicated potatoes. Replicated tea. He sighed put a bite in his mouth. There were days he missed Abscean. Everything was simpler there. He could spend hours, days really, at the observatory just looking up at the stars, just looking with nothing to distract or detract him. There were no intergalactic crisis for him get caught up in, no burdens of command weighing him down. No dead friends. He sat his tea down on the table and looked around the empty room for a moment. In the the background he could hear the galley crew prepping for the morning meal for the rest of the crew. It had been nearly a week since they’d left orbit of Domaria, and yet everyone still seemed on edge. There had been, he’d decided, little closure for anyone. At first the crew had seemed relieved just to be leaving the planet behind and heading home, but as the trip home wore on their jubilation had tempered. For Swain there had never any jubilation to temper. What was he going to tell Maria Ostander? Taking his tea back into his hand, he shook his head. He still didn’t know where he’d even begin. There had been so much the three of them had shared, so much that had gone unsaid in the long pause of their friendship after the Dominion War, and now it was simply gone. Charlie was dead. And so was Ensign Kahtib. Grimacing, he remembered that he had not yet written that particularly unpleasant letter. No one liked writing letters to the family members of dead crew members, or at least no one he’d ever met. It was, for any commander, a singularly awful task; a reminder that you had failed to protect someone under your command. In command school they always told you not to dwell on it, that they had, after all, known the risks that came with taking the uniform. That had never particularly soothed the feeling of guilt with Swain -- not during the Dominion War, and not now. Sure everyone had known the risks, but they had also trusted in him to make decisions that wouldn’t get them killed, too. Swain’s thoughts drifted to his troubled Chief Engineer. He’d admonished Tandaris for exactly what he was doing now -- wallowing in doubt and guilt. That’s what you were supposed to do, though, right? Tell him to buckle down, straighten up, and work through the emotion. That a pitty party didn’t help anyone. If only it were so easy as flipping a switch and putting all your emotions into a tiny box. In command school you were told to always be mindful of your emotions when you weren’t alone, that a crew could sense any doubts you had about yourself, and then it manifested in their own attitudes. The same was true about trusting yourself to make decisions. If you didn’t think you could make that choice, why should they? Indecision was like a creeping infestation of weeds in that way. He wondered, silently, if he did trust himself anymore. If he trusted his own commanding officers. Why hadn’t he been told about the quarantine? Surely they had to know that the Augustine lack of communication could mean that the ship had been lost, and in that case, that Swain would launch an investigation? And why had Charlie broken the quarantine? The conclusions he drew were uncomfortable. He looked down to his breakfast. The eggs were cold now. And replicated.

A Joint Log Between Captain Asher Swain and Commander Tandaris Admiran “Then let me go,” Tandaris Admiran said, a tinge of desperation in his voice. “I can go by myself and set up the...” “Absolutely not,” Asher Swain said firmly. “As the Commander just pointed out, there’s a quarantine in place.” He was about to add something else but paused, reconsidering. Then, in a softer, gentler tone: “I understand you’re upset. I understand that you’re blaming yourself for the incident on the Augustine...” “It’s not just...” Swain held a hand up. “Really, I understand.” “I don’t think you do,” Admiran said. “It’s not just that. It’s... it’s the...” He stopped mid-sentence, not sure how to convey what this discovery meant. But he knew they couldn’t pass it up—that he didn’t want to pass it up. “You have to let me do this.” Only beginning to realize just how fragile his chief engineer’s state of mind truly was, Swain considered just how to respond. “Tandaris,” he said. “I understand that this is very important to you, but Wydown is right. I am not going to put the safety of the crew in jeopardy to relieve your guilt.” “What about the crew of the Augustine” Tandaris questioned. “We can’t just let them have died for nothing. What are you going to tell your friend’s widow...” Swain grimaced. “That Charlie died doing what he’d dedicated his life to doing...” “But what does that even mean? Captain, his death is meaningless without something coming out of this mission and you know it. We don’t even know how they died. It can’t end this way.” “But it will,” Swain said lowly. “How many more people have to die, Tandaris? How many more lives need to be endangered before the rest mean something? No, I’ve made my decision. We’ll report this finding to Camelot with everything else and let them decide what to do about it. Once we’ve demo’d the Augustine and deployed quarantine buoys, we’re leaving.” Sullen silence soaked into the ready room. Tandaris had pleaded his case, to no avail. The rational part of him knew that Swain was right, that this was a fool’s errand—all things considered—no matter how interesting it might be. But it galled him to be this close to something … worthwhile … and not be able to go after it. Swain could see the conflicting emotions flicker across Tandaris’ face. Nothing about this mission had gone as expected, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that it had taken too high a toll on the crew’s morale for so little reward. He knew he was making the right call—didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. “It’s over Admiran. We’re going home.”