Sorehl

Well, this artwork was originally developed as a scaling tool in developing the specs for Sky Harbor Aegis and Camelot Station, so DS9 is the very bottom layer of the bitmap I started with. It would take more work to remove it than I'd be willing to put in, but I welcome anyone who's interested to take a crack. Have at it. With DS9 gone, perhaps Talon would fit in the picture. One of the things it actually demonstrated was that DS9 is scaled WAY bigger than the number of decks they claim it has. The central core from Ops to the bottom of the fusion reactors is only about 42 decks if you count the windows and estimate from the cutaway in the DS9 Tech Manual. That's the same number as a Galaxy-class and yet the DS9 central core is made to look twice as tall as the Enterprise. That whole uppermost bubble is only supposed to be one deck, you can confirm this by noticing the window in Sisko's office, as well as the circular windows that line Ops. So scaling even among the canon stuff is tricky. Aegis and Camelot are scaled against the ships.

No word back from Red Star? I must admit, after Sam's suggestion I envision a floating 50's art deco diner. BTW, there's obviously room for improvement on this diagram. Some of the ship artwork is better than others, based on the source. Now that the relative sizes are established, I could replace images with similar ones of better quality if you've got 'em. The restrictions are that they should be side views and expandable to the sizes shown without degradation. If there's interest, you could post any recommended images in this string or otherwise forward it to me. Eventually, I'll cut out some of the stray pixels or turn them into redshirts. What color would Joy be and how many pixels would she be up to from various Academy deaths?

I've added these two ships. Of course, leave it to the Romulans to have such an unnecessarily large ship that it can't fit completely in the picture without blocking everyone else out. (That's if you hold to the sketchy reference to the D'Deridex being twice the size of a Galaxy class, which I don't, but have represented here anyway - it's been replicated in so many places.) I removed the earlier version and offer the refreshed one here.

Which leads to the question, what class is the Talon? Standard D'Deridex warbird or a more exotic variant? And can anyone provide the starship class of the Republic? And what about Red Star Nightclub? It could be added to the artwork if it's something I didn't have to make from scratch. Ex Astris Scientia lists Vanguard, Regula, Particle fountain, K-7, and Amargosa as Federation classes. Or perhaps it looks like something from another genre - the Close Encounters mothership, the International Space Station, or the old style Von Braun space station "wheel". Or maybe it just looks like a floating diner. (Anyone can suggest, but I'll take the hosts' word as canon - so you have to talk them into it.) I'll probably double the artwork in size. People can reduce it in size for their needs. So it'll be 1 pixel = 1 meter, again based on the Starship Dimensions website.

Just highlighting that portion pertaining to Camelot and its environs.

Sorehl stood at the edge of the paved roadway, looking over the stark, yet living landscape. Although the various councils of the Federation government could meet in any one of several chambers scattered across the Terran globe – Paris, Sao Paulo, Tokyo, Sydney – the Security Council had opted to hear his report in San Francisco, as they tended to do whenever the subject involved their direction over Starfleet Command. At the conclusion of his testimony, he had laid down the title of Commissioner and taken a transit tube several hundred miles away from the city. Transporters were not the planetside norm for ordinary civilians like himself, so he had arranged a ground shuttle to take his children into what humans called a desert on their world. He had been interested to learn that the shuttle port itself was built on the site of an old aeroplane facility designed to accommodate flight in the mid-20th Century – its name was also Sky Harbor. His wife had been summoned to the Palais de la Concorde. There, she continued to consult with her superiors in the “foreign service” on the delicate détente with the Gamma Quadrant powers. They would dictate the policies to which she would adhere when resuming her assignment at Camelot Station. So for now, the children and the excursion were his. Hefting his one-year-old son in one arm, he stepped off onto the unpaved part of the trail. The unyielding sun beat down, making it one of the few regions of the planet warm enough for his Vulcan blood. He could wear hiking clothes without the need for a thermal undergarment. Further ahead, his oldest daughter scaled a rock outcropping, avoiding a plant with spines so dense it almost looked furry. His middle daughter T’Ael bounded along in the space between them, her blonde hair trailing behind her. “How much further?” his youngest daughter T’Jen asked beside him, breathing deeply as if to feign exhaustion. They had not gone far by foot and the air was much too rich in oxygen for her to be truly tired. “About two kilometers,” he answered concisely. To give her a sense of distance, he raised his arm, pointing out an upthrust of rocks. “You see that formation beyond T’Kel?” He saw the seven-year-old nodding. “Javelina Rocks is our destination.” The Vulcan girl scrunched her face. “Why do they call it that?” she asked, emphasizing the last word. Sorehl walked on alongside her, craning his neck to avoid being swatted by one of his son’s flailing arms. “It is named for an indigenous species that sometimes dwells in the clefts. Perhaps we will see some as night falls.” Around them hundreds of saguaro cacti towered in one of the few unspoiled collections within the Preserve. Earth, of course, was an alien world to him. The sky was too blue, and there was a greater abundance of plant life, but it still prompted a sense of nostalgia, whether justified or not. He stumbled a bit as he realized his daughter had wrapped her arms around both of his legs. “I love you, daddy,” she declared with unrestrained affection. Logically, he realized, it made sense that children felt appreciation toward those who provided them basic security. But that logic made it no less genuine and no less personal. He reached down to brush her hair and touch her head, allowing a sense of familial comfort and serenity to bleed through the faint touch telepathy. Just as quickly, she let go, bouncing away and kicking up dust in her wake. He watched her go. The vast majority of Vulcan cultures made no attempt to impose emotional restraints on their children before the age of accountability, usually marked by the kahs-wahn or some similar ritual. As with bodily functions, motor skills, social norms, and vocational abilities, all things developed in their proper order. Emotional mastery was near the pinnacle. Eventually, T’Jen would choose one of the logical disciplines – or none at all – and study the doctrines of Surak through them. She might choose the cryptic, ancient Yhri ways of his own fathers or the M'neimon-ahr Order of her mother. Either was preferable to the distortion of the Kolinahr. But that discussion was for future days. He hefted his son again, picking up the pace. Off to the east, beyond the jagged mountains, dark clouds gathered. Brilliant bolts of lightning punctuated the horizon, typical of the intense electrical storms famous in this area. Still, he trusted in the weather nets which had indicated the rainfall itself would pass some distance from them. This time together would not be disturbed by inclement weather. He continued on, unaware of political storms gathering elsewhere, and how vain his attempts would be to avoid them.

It is. The various pictures show it from different angles, but if you extend the plane of the GEO ring down to the Earth, it intersects at the equator. In the first link, you'll see it lies just above the horn of Africa. In the images on the ESA site, it's the same or through the top of South America. What I find interesting is the sort-of "echo ring" above and below it. I think that's the disposal orbit for GEO satellites, but I'll have to do more investigating to confirm. Don't let the yellow rings in some of the close-up images fool you - those are just "probability clouds" representing the altitudes of typical satellites. LEO, MEO, and elliptical satellites aren't restricted to the equator, so they're all over. One of the favorite s is the polar orbit which runs - you guessed it - pole to pole. The Earth turns underneath it, so if you've balanced your altitude and swath (the area your camera, antenna, or sensor can see), you can take images of the entire planet in half a day. Weather satellites are fond of this orbit, as are satellites in a "constellation" known as Iridium. There's almost 70 active satellites in Iridium at one time, providing global satellite phone coverage. If you pick some close-up images from the ESA site, Iridium sats are the ones that look like a capital T with a wide crossbar. In the artwork, they're about the size of New Jersey - in reality, I think they're 10-12 feet long. If anyone cares, you can actually see the sun reflecting off the flat lower antenna of these satellites on many nights. It's called an Iridium flare. I find this one of the coolest things to show people, but you have to know your location fairly well (GPS coordinates are best) to find out what time one will be in your part of the world. The website www.heavens-above.com can help you plot them, as well as ISS and Shuttle (when it's up) overpasses. I'd be interested to know if anyone goes out and sees one.

I'd just hate to be the astronaut whose suit is punctured by orbiting cremated remains. Isn't this exactly the kind of space debris we were decrying on another string? :: imagines a tracking cloud on the NORAD screen labelled "Scotty" :: I thought it was Roddenberry who was launched earlier, but I may be misremembering.

I'd prefer an award. Screaming is so... emotional.

Of course, in that particular picture those satellites have been exaggerated thousands of times to be many miles across just so they can be seen, but it does illustrate the daily tracking problem NORAD has. If you look at the Earth below for scale, each of those satellites would have to be bigger than entire cities. The largest thing up there, the International Space Station, is only about the size of a football field. They actually move the ISS a mile laterally when just one of the object tracks falls within its multi-mile "collision spheroid". But this hardly ever happens. But it's still wise. I've handled some of the Shuttle tiles and a window surface that were impinged by paint flecks. It actually vaporizes little spherical sections an inch or two in diameter - which is still better than the bullet through hot butter image. The real danger is to spacewalking astronauts. As the picture shows, the biggest risk of collision is in Low Earth Orbit (LEO) - within a few hundred miles of the surface. At that level, what's going for us is that atmospheric drag extends quite a ways. Uncontrolled satellites come down on their own, actually pretty quickly. The vast majority are small enough to be incinerated during re-entry. As for ground collision, you worry about really large bus-sized stuff like Mir or Skylab. And there was that incident last year where a big frozen hunk of hydrazine was a concern - if you accept that as the real rationale for why we shot down that satellite. Earth gets hit more by falling, expended rocket stages and tanks that never make it to orbit. Up at higher ranges, there are Mid-Earth Orbits (MEO), Geosynchronous Elliptical Orbits (GEO), and other specialized ones (like polar, sun-synchronous, and Molniya). MEO is about half-way to GEO and has 12-hour orbits. This is mostly the realm of navigational satellites like GPS and GLONASS (the Russian version). GEO is the most famous, because of its unique property of allowing a satellite to remain above the same longitude as the Earth turns below it. Notice in the second picture how those are all in a flat ring. GEO satellites can't hover above the same spot on the Earth (like New York), they can only hover above the equator. That's what makes it valuable real-estate - countries actually sell the GEO spots they own under international treaty. If you put a satellite there, you have requirements to retire it into a "disposal orbit" so the spot opens up later. It is interesting to note that in the entire Space Era, there has never been a single satellite collision, other than at the paint fleck / micrometeriod size. (This was less of a problem until the Chinese fiasco, which added thousands of debris bits right where we operate most.) At low orbit, this is because the earth tends to clean up the larger bits. At higher orbits, most of these satellites are no longer operational and thus not controllable. So it's because basically - orbital space is really big. As for reality check, the problem of space debris is not trivial to aerospace engineers, but it's not even on the top-1000 list of "things that could go wrong on Earth". When you design a satellite, you include enough fuel to avoid collision with anything you plot might hit you (and I've never seen one of these corrections made outside the ISS or Shuttle) and to dispose properly. Interestingly, disposal at LEO means sending it DOWN to burn up in the atmosphere like a shooting star. At MEO and GEO, you just park it out of the way. That's not to say people aren't working on solutions. The Orbital Express program, built as a means of resupplying fuel and expendables to satellites could be conceivably adapted to bring in debris. But that there's no economic market for that mission, even among deep-pocket government agencies, is one sign of how small a problem the aerospace community thinks it is. But ruining space before we master it? Remember, it's satellites that enabled global communication, track weather, guide ships, watch out for bad guys looking to make war, and beam us Star Trek re-runs. If we've got to get off the planet to master space, it's hard to see how satellites aren't things we'll need to get there.

I can't remember who recommended or suggested it, but based on their comment, I picked up a copy of Articles of the Federation by DeCandido and I welcome it to my list of limited recommended titles. I didn't agree with all of the political mechanisms he developed, but he really took a risk and went out there to describe a workable Federation government. Be forewarned, this book is essentially West Wing meets Star Trek. If you're looking for action, this is not the book for you - lots of staff meetings and council confrontations. It also heavily weaves in events from other Pocket Books, especially the Titan and Time to... series. If you haven't read those or didn't like a particular plotline, you might get less enjoyment out of the book. Still, I've only read a few Titan books and I didn't like the Tezwa plotline from the Time To... series, but I still really enjoyed this book. I actually hope he'll take a stab at another one.

“In determining the fate of Aegis,” Commissioner Sorehl began, “it is important to consider a third, unacknowledged role – a mission which, if left undisputed, could demand an Allied presence in perpetuity.” He paused. “I refer to the desire to prevent Cardassia from rising to threaten peace again.” There were no dramatic outbursts from those seated at the huge, circular table of the Security Council. If anything, the faces were as impassive as his own. Still, he caught the eye of the Daemon delegate briefly. Having been subjected to questions regarding his report and its recommendations, Sorehl had been granted time for a closing argument. Informal tradition dictated this statement could be made without interruption. “It has always been the way with vanquished enemies,” the Vulcan continued, glancing at the notes he didn't need. “Even peace-loving societies have grappled with the choice of crushing or eliminating their opposition. Short of this, they have salted enemy fields, enslaved survivors, or exported whole populations by forcible diaspora. Setting aside base emotional drives for vengeance, the underlying logical goal has been to reduce the possibility of visiting the horrors of war on their children. It has been so on Vulcan,” he admitted, “it has been so on many of our worlds.” He shifted points. “It is the legacy of Federation values that we do not seek to conquer. We do not annex unwilling governments. Rather than expand by seizing, plundering, or subjugating, we invite members to join us in a relationship of peaceful coexistence, shared learning, and mutual defense. Participation in this great experiment has lasted nearly a quarter-millenium.” “But we face a unique test,” he explained. “History has demonstrated the value of extending honor to our rivals, in distress or in defeat. Few have seen defeat as harshly at our hands as Cardassia. As such, this is not simply a debate on the location of a space station. It is broader than military considerations. Sky Harbor has met its stated goals – it has defended them from exploitation and prepared them to rejoin the community of nations. The fate of Aegis is now a referendum on the question: What is to be done with Cardassia?” “They surrendered,” the Ixarian delegate challenged aloud. “We have a right to make sure they meet their obligations under treaty.” “Quite correct,” Sorehl concurred, ignoring the slight in decorum. “Treaty-monitoring has been a provision of the Aegis charter. Indeed, nearly half of the respondants to my inquiry cited the station’s primary mission as ‘keeping an eye’ on Cardassia. But is it? A full starbase sitting above their homeworld? As the current commanding officer noted we’ve been on their back door long enough. Such overkill suggests its intent is rather a ‘boot to the neck’.” There was a murmur at that. “So you think we’re done?” the Tellarite delegate scoffed. “Mission accomplished?” Sorehl pressed on. “It is my opinion that, if the Allies persist on retaining Aegis in its current location, the Cardassian government will see this as evidence they are being purposely held back.” “Are you attempting to ascribe motivations to this Council ahead of its decisions?” the delegate from Vulcan challenged. “What I ascribe is irrelevant,” Sorehl admitted. “What is inferred by the Cardassian people is significant. And what they will infer is that they made a mistake.” It was the Andorian delegate that made the most visible face of confusion. “I admit I don’t follow your logic, captain,” he ventured, his antenna dipping. Sorehl found himself sitting up, placing his forearms against the table. “The Allies did not conquer Cardassia.” He paused briefly, letting them pose their internal questions. “We invaded their space, pressed in on their defensive perimeter. But the fact remains that the Cardassian people turned against the Dominion at the crucial hour. I know. I was there,” he asserted, making an unusual reference to his own role in the war. “Lest we dismiss this move as simply acceding to the shifting winds, it should be noted that the Cardassians rallied to Damar and rose up against a far more brutal, entrenched force than the invading Allied fleet. It exacted a much heavier toll than they might have expected at our hands. It cost them 800 million civilian deaths on their homeworld alone, obliterated from orbit by the Dominion.” “At a cost of their own lives, they spared many of us that final fight. Had the 12th Order at Sarpedion not defected and struck the Breen and Jem’Hadar, they would have smashed against our Third Fleet. I have no doubt I sit alive before this council because the Cardassians picked that moment to throw off the shackles of tyranny.” “Is it our intent to simply replace one tyranny with a more subtle one?”

In case it got lost in the span of four logs, I wanted to summarize what Commissioner Sorehl has and has not recommended to the Security Council. Sorehl has advised the Security Council that Sky Harbor Aegis has completed its stated goals. He further suggested that, contrary to its mission, its continued presence is starting to have a negative affect on Cardassian development. His report recommends it be withdrawn from its position near Cardassia Prime. It recommends future diplomatic and/or military activity at the homeworld be limited to planet-side embassies. The report does not make recommendations on the policy for future Allied-Cardassian relations, but it does assert that keeping Sky Harbor in place will be interpretted as a signal that the Allies intend to "keep Cardassia down" - something already rumored among their people after the recent planet-wide illness. Although it presents interviews from Klingon, Romulan, Ferengi, Gorn, and Cardassian representatives, it does not claim to know the reaction of these Allies, or if the Aegis partners will concur with this recommendation. It does not address the future of the physical station itself, whether it should be turned over to Cardassia, offered to another partner, or moved to another location in or out of Cardassian space. It has also been criticized for not addressing the financial / economic impacts of such a withdrawal. Sorehl assumes, perhaps incorrectly, that these recommendations will engender lengthy debate before any action is resolved.

I didn't see any definitive answer as to whether the Academies or sims were doing anything to mark the six-year anniversary of STSF. This is quite a milestone - even the TOS Enterprise only had a five-year mission.

Although it suffers from "this character is the most important in the galaxy" syndrome, Metamorphosis does a really interesting analysis of what could happen to Data if he ever were to become truly human - right down to shaving, deodorant, hunger, etc. Some of these concepts would later be addressed in the TNG episode: "Deja Q" in which Q considers turning Data human after being one himself. (You may remember this as the episode which ends with Data laughing hysterically, as a parting gift from Q.)

Having not heard this phrase before, I was interested to learn that the origin of the term "Mary Sue" itself was in fact from Trek fiction of the 1970's. (I had to look it up on Wikipedia.) And it succinctly describes several of the more annoying books I remember. Interestingly, Battlestations and Dreadnought weren't two of them. I think the introduction of the Piper character, as I think you agreed, was well done and presaged the creation of fiction involving other crews of talented people like the Peter David Excalibur series, Starfleet: Corp of Engineers, and our own ship- and station-based role-play. I won't cite the book title because I don't want to dissuade people from reading what was otherwise an excellent character study (if lacking in action), but I just finished one book where the Mary Sue aspect killed my recommendation. For some reason, the author felt it necessary to create a love interest for an established canon character after a somewhat passing professional relationship, kept her relatively bland (but brassy, of course), asserted over and over how competent she was - thus worthy of our hero's attention - and then established her as his true soul mate, marrying them off in the final pages. Considering the deeper story wasn't even affected by this character, I found myself asking: What was this author thinking? Despite a clear understanding of the original canon character, why throw in a soul mate who didn't exert one influence on his life until the last two pages? This aspect ruined the book for me. It seemed like a forced contrivance: like Spock's interest in Droxine in "The Cloudminders" or better, the sudden Chakotay/Seven pairing in the final episode of Voyager. And now my pain has a name: I call thee "Mary Sue". :::almost certain to see a new NPC on half of the Academy sims:::

I went through the extensive list of Trek books I've read and tend to agree that, for many, I've been disappointed. Every six months, I'd convince myself that surely the next one would be good. Sometimes there's a great plot idea, but the characterization is terrible. Sometimes the characters are spot on, but the story is unbelievable or dull. Sometimes you wonder if the author ever watched the show. But the points about books not being canon is well taken. But the comment that they should just be enjoyed for themselves - is exactly why so many of them are remembered as dismal. Some would never have been published if they hadn't co-opted the name Star Trek. Why are the episodes so much better? Well, not all of them are - but so many of them are because there's a writing team and a series Bible and such. However... it was a lent copy of The Romulan Way from someone in my college dorm that, in fact, turned me into a Trekkie. I have fond memories of reading so many, even if I can't always recommend them. I admit I'm less inclined to enjoy the "save the universe" ones - leave that for the shows. Some books have been so ground-breaking that they wound up inspiring TNG, DS9, and VOY, even if they got ret-conned into canon conflict. The Final Reflection is a good example. It invented the concept of honorable, non-evil Klingons, even though the culture it introduced (the komerex zha, the middle name title honorifics) is largely ignored. And Strangers from the Sky tells the story of an "almost" First Contact, but has invalidated by Star Trek: First Contact and Enterprise. Both good reads. The Titan series has real potential, but I'm still reserving judgement. My personal favorites among the hundreds: Time for Yesterday by A.C. Crispin, a much-better sequel to Yesterday's Son, which was pretty okay itself A Stitch in Time by Andrew Robinson (the actor who played Garak) <---OUTSTANDING The Millennium trilogy by Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens The Art of the Impossible by Keith R.A. DeCandido was a nice, low-key political thriller that filled in some nice gaps.

The following is a joint log expanded from the conversation between Commissioner Sorehl and Ambassador Joy Two during the Aegis sim on 07/11/08. Chronologically, it occurs between the third and (yet unposted) fourth log in the Council report series. Commissioner Sorehl leaned forward in one of the private communication vestibules in this portion of the chambers, the cuff of his sleeved robe gliding across the desk. Although the intended break in his appearance was supposed to have been brief, the Council had since gone into closed session with the Joint Chiefs regarding a Gamma Quadrant matter in the Salin system. The final portion of his recommendations had been delayed. Since there was insufficient time for a return to his accommodations, he opted to use the interlude advantageously. The Federation Seal shrank to one corner of the screen and the triangular symbol of Sky Harbor Aegis took the center. It soon also shrank and faded as the image of Ambassador Joy Two of Mudd appeared. "Good evening, Commissioner," the dark-haired android greeted by subspace. The Vulcan nodded. "Good day, Ambassador," he responded. "I'm between sessions with the Council at the moment. I trust you've kept apace of the transpirings?" Although his testimony was little more than a footnote on F-SPAN, he knew there would be an audience at Aegis. "Within the limits of bandwith, yes," the diplomat answered. "I just passed the Dameon proposal on to the Kith and Captain Quark." Unconsciously, an eyebrow rose. "That proposal must have been within Council channels," he considered aloud. "I was unaware of it. I suppose that's not unusual, since I'm merely a guest speaker." Although he had little direct knowledge of the Dameon culture, he was familiar with the martial tilt of their politics. His personal association with the captain of Excalibur had not diminished this impression. He wondered if their ambassador had posed strategic objections. "It is not unusual for alternate proposals to be thrown about," she explained reassuringly. "This one keeps Aegis in place under a joint command. It is too vague on how this would work to be considered firm yet." Sorehl listened to her explanation. "Joint command. Of course." He recalled this morning's session. "The Andorian delegate commented on it; it sounded as if he might be quoting an external reference." "It is not a formal motion yet," Joy reiterated. "The details are not firm enough for it. Seven and her group," she explained, invoking the number of one of her sister units, "haven't decided how they want to push on it yet, either. Still in flux. She seems to think the politics should drive the military deployment, not the other way around." She paused briefly. "We have to decide the political objective first, then decide how Aegis could best meet it." Across the light years, Sorehl found himself agreeing with that logic. He nodded. "I see her point. The difficulty is, politics disagrees on what the Aegis mission is, making it difficult to evaluate its end point." A shifting finish line only extended the race beyond endurance, he mused. "Your report," Joy offered, "has triggered the discussion, however. In my experience, it will take some time to settle things down. I'd expect quite a lot of talk before the new deployment can be settled on." "As it should," Sorehl remarked. "I have given my recommendation. They must decide if it has merit and if the politics allow it." Joy folded her hands, a nuance that might have been meant to convey she was about to offer an opinion. "I think your recommendation has merit, but more people have to buy into it before it will happen. The Daemon alternative, and there might be other alternatives, will have to be fleshed out and compared to yours." He observed her careful suggestion of sharing ideas and building consensus. It reminded him of the same skill demonstrated by his wife. "Agreed," the Vulcan answered. "It will undoubtedly move at the speed of government." "Of course." For her part, the android smiled pleasantly. "You didn't expect the speed of logic, did you?" "Hardly," he responded, hearing her rejoinder. He paused, shifting to the next purpose for his call. "I wondered if you had an opportunity to assess Muon's response. I was unable to confer with her before my departure from Aegis." A thoughtful look passed over her delicate features. "The captain was displeased at not being consulted," Joy admitted. "She has yet to make specific alternate recommendations. I intend to get her, the Kith, and Drankum together as soon as I might." Sorehl glanced at the chronometer in the lower corner of the screen. "Our recess ends soon, but perhaps there is time to contact her myself." Joy's mention of the Ferengi ambassador reminded him of another comment made in the earlier session. Perhaps he should contact his long-time associate, as well, he considered. "Before that, I thought I should ask if you have any comment on the proceedings. Anything I should be certain to remark on?" He knew his closing remarks would be among the more controversial. Onscreen, she shook her head slightly. "I have nothing specific. I generally approve your original recommendation, but the Cardassian's imput must be integerated, and others." As was proper, he thought with a nod. "Of course. I included commentary from our meeting with the Castellan and the Presidium, but I have not presumed to speak on the Cardassian's behalf." He paused. "Although... I will be challenging the notion that Aegis is there to 'keep an eye' on Cardassia in the next session." Joy feigned shock with purposeful overacting. "Speaking of the unspeakable? Expect indirect counter arguments. Best of luck." Sorehl acknowledged her wish. "I must use the pulpit they've granted. Otherwise, there can be no end to the Aegis mission." The diplomat smiled pleasantly. "Very well. Peace and long life." The commissioner raised his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Endure long, Ambassador." Joy returned the salute. "Slog with great patience through the politics, Commissioner," she said in parting, smiling with moderate mirth. "I shall attempt to do so. Until then. Sorehl out." He leaned forward and closed the link.

The following is a joint log expanded from conversation between Commissioner Sorehl and Captain Muon Quark during the Aegis sim on 07/11/08. Chronologically, it also occurs between the third and (yet unposted) fourth log in the Council report series. From Ops, Porter had told Captain Quark of an incoming, personal communication. Alone in her office, the Ferengi captain dropped unceremoniously into the the chair at her desk, reached over, and pressed a button to open the link. A Security Council symbol faded, replaced by an image of Commissioner Sorehl of Vulcan, a former commanding officer of Aegis who was now a civilian with Starfleet reserve rank. “Captain,” he greeted with economy of words. Muon found herself sitting up, but not out of respect. Her eyes narrowed. “I should hang up on you, Sorehl.” That a Vulcan could sense the emotional reaction across subspace was a measure of its fervor. From within the communications vestibule on Earth, he chose his words carefully. “I regret,” he began, “not having had opportunity to speak with you before my session with the Council.” Onscreen, the Ferengi woman’s expression didn’t soften. “You blind-sided me.” The commissioner let a moment pass. “It was not my intent. You were understandably engaged at the time of my departure.” The encounter with Species 8472 had been threatening to spill back into Cardassian space, which it ultimately had. He pressed on. “I should also note that my recommendation for Aegis was in no way a negative reflection on your command.” Muon sighed audibly. “Fine,” she relented, “but you could have given me a hint about this. Now it looks like I have to plan moving the station.” Sorehl considered her comment. He was only a single voice in the debate. He found it unlikely the Security Council would fully or swiftly endorse his recommendations. Indeed, Joy had told him alternate proposals were already being traded. “A move is by no means certain,” he noted. “I have asserted my recommendation that Aegis conclude its mission, but I am merely a former captain. It is entirely possible they will ignore or revise my proposal. You may have plenty of time to see more of Cardassia Prime.” The Ferengi captain scoffed softly. “Not likely, Sorehl. As the hew-mons say, ‘it's all over but the crying’.” “Perhaps.” The commissioner was far less certain, but opted not to expend energy to dissuade her. “However, I would not pack yet. These things tend to move, as they say, at the speed of government.” He repeated the phrase he had used in his previous conversation with the Mudd ambassador. Onscreen, Muon took a deep breath. “So what can I not do for you, Sorehl?” “I merely wanted to rectify the... blind-siding,” he admitted. She hmphed, shaking her head with an incredulous smile. “Do you have any idea how mad Drankum is going to be, not to mention the rest of the Ferengi?” She leaned on one elbow, awaiting his response. Sorehl merely raising an eyebrow. As a Ferengi herself, Muon had far greater insight into their cultural values than he did. Their stakes were financial, as they always were, but logically should be capable of reimbursement. He wondered, why would emotional elements intrude into an ecomomic matter? “I did not think the financial considerations insurmountable...” he managed. “Do you disagree? I willingly defer to your judgement.” Onscreen, Muon appeared to surpress a laugh. “Then you don't know Ferengi. All financial considerations are insurmountable.” “Surely suitable compensation can be arranged by the Federation?” he offered. Her expression turned hard again. “I don't know, Sorehl. It will be a major obstacle to overcome. Trust me.” The Vulcan leaned away from the display, steepling his hands. “I admit I am not well versed in such impacts,” he recounted. “Perhaps you've heard me mention before: I am no diplomat. “Well, that's okay,” the captain replied, throwing up her hands, “because we're in greater need of an accountant.” She folded her arms. “Anyways, it helps that I’m Ferengi. I understand our culture, so maybe that will go in our favor.” Sorehl nodded quietly. “Perhaps I should leave it to the accountants and diplomats, then.” He grew quiet, as if hesitating to bring up another point. “Before I am summoned to the next session,” he began, “I should advise you of something else.” Muon looked back, her brow raised. “Another blind-side?” She was only half joking. “I intend to espouse a position in the concluding session that I believe we share,” the Vulcan explained, “that Aegis was not placed at Cardassia Prime as a punishment or as a "boot to the neck" to keep them down.” He waited. “If that is an opinion you share, I would like to reference that fact.” It didn’t take her long to consider. “Agreed. We've been on their back door long enough.” “Very good,” he answered, nodding. A tone sounded inside the vestibule. He glanced down at the screen, confirming its intent. “I see my session is about to resume.” He lifted his hand in the Vulcan salute. “Long life and, of course, prosperity.” Muon nodded with a circular wave of one hand. “Yeah, yeah, peace and lots of latinum to you, too.” Sorehl put his hand down. “I chose the wrong career for that, captain. Sorehl out.” Alone in her office, Captain Muon Quark stuck out her tongue at the screen as it went blank.

In toying around with thoughts about plausible structures for the UFP government, I found several good things from the EU to draw from, but a few things that probably wouldn't work for the Federation. The UN offers a pretty good model for some other aspects. For those of you who don't care about such nonsense: skip on a bit, brother. The EU Parliament is a House of Representatives/Commons style organization with proportional votes by population. They cannot initiate laws, but they debate and craft laws proposed elsewhere. This could be like the Federation (General) Assembly, with hundreds and hundreds of delegates, but then, I'm not even sure there's a canonical reference to the Assembly. The EU Council is a strangely functioning body, whose membership changes based on the subject they're discussing. If it's an agricultural topic, then the Council is comprised of European interior ministers. They also have a Commission, a cabinet-like group with ministers overseeing specific EU-wide administration. The EU has several "top" roles, but no single head of government or state. There's a Speaker of the Parliament, a rotating president of the Council (every six months by country), and such. The Lisbon treaty was supposed to add a President-like role, but it's defeat in Ireland makes that change questionable. In contrast with the UFP, the UN General-Secretary isn't the head of the Security Council. He is the head of the Secretariat, which is a huge civil-service administrative body with executive responsibilities. He is elected by the General Assembly, but that group has its own senior delegate. By tradition, members of one of the permanent security members (US, Russia, China, England, and France) don't run. That's why they've been from littler countrys like Bolivia, Ghana, and South Korea. This spreads the power. By tradition, they also tend to rotate by continent, as in the previous examples. Although the Federation doesn't necessarily keep with these traditions, it would surprise me if a human or Vulcan ever held the post after the formative years. ST4 had a human (although maybe not from Earth), but ST6 and DS9 had aliens from less-represented species, Efrosian and Grazerite. Back to reality. The EU doesn't have a central body for determining a unified foreign policy... yet. They allow its members to form their own diplomacy and even enter alliances outside the group (ala NATO). The EU also doesn't have a collective military, relying on the contributions of their members. Much different than the UFP. It was suggested that the UN doesn't have its own military. They also draw from their member states, but not like the EU. Military action can be authorized by the UN, as in Korea and the first Gulf War. Although under command of the donor government, these forces are supposed to take direction from the UN. They wear UN insignia and the famous blue helmets. But outside of peacekeeping exercises, they tend to be led by their own generals as in Korea. Of course, the Klingon Empire hasn't yet threatened the UN, so they don't keep their own standing army. Enter "Articles of the Federation" which posed that the President runs the Federation Council, instead of the Assembly or Secretariat (or some similar organization). And that office is elected by popular vote at large, meaning they don't have to come from the existing ambassadors and delegates. In that book, the author suggests the Assembly "qualifies" the candidate, which doesn't sound all that democratic - if I recall, Iran regime got their current president after the mullahs disqualified all the serious contenders. Interestingly, the Federation Council is sometimes equated with the UN Security Council, which is a very different type of group. The latter is in permanent session and debates world crises that could require military invention or other formal resolution. The Federation Council, on the other hand, would seem to be a governing body that recommends laws and establishes foreign policy along with the President. So this just raises many questions: What part of the government does the President run? Is he the Council president or just appears before them from time to time? Is there such a thing as an Assembly, allowing for proportional representation? Is the Security Council different from the Federation Council? I imagine the former as a small 15-member group of specialist, with the latter having 100+ members, but that's my own concoction. (Sorehl's been testifying before the Security Council, which I imagine as the scope of a minor Congressional subcommittee hearing, not a State of the Union address.) Would there be joint chiefs of staff if there's just Starfleet, or do the Marines get a commandant equivalent to a C-IN-C? And for those of you who skipped on from the first paragraph: Who cares? Which is the last question I wanted to address. Is anybody else interested in continuing this thread as a way of speculating about the structure of the Federation government? Or should I just shut up?

Commissioner Sorehl had not anticipated his testimony spilling into a second day, especially after spending four hours discussing his recommendations and the military impacts. But there had been insufficient time to expand on the diplomatic challenges, as well as provide commentary on the unstated third objective of the Aegis mission. The delegates, while clearly espousing conflicting views, had demonstrated a collective thoughfulness in exploring their options. “The recent past has seen an unexpected rapproachment with the fledgling Cardassian government,” the Vulcan summarized. “This is no doubt due to a surge, if you’ll forgive the expression, in diplomatic effort centered at Aegis. In addition, the Presidium specifically cited this Council’s gesture of good faith in reaffirming the sovereignty of their borders. By the benchmark measures established in the Assembly, it is hardly disputable that Cardassian-Federation relations are at a post-war high.” “And yet, Captain,” the Grazerite delegate noted with deceptive pleasantry, invoking rank over civilian title, “as a trade for reducing our military presence, you recommend a move that could abandon these gains.” Sorehl shook his head politely. “While I firmly endorse the increased diplomatic role Sky Harbor has resumed, I question whether an orbital facility is a necessary feature of good relations. Planetside embassies and trade missions can provide more accessible and permanent utility, both physically and symbolically. Indeed, they may even provide additional financial stimulus – construction, added personnel, and the implication of increased stability for tourism offer clear economic benefits.” The Grazerite blinked her eyes ponderously. “Then a withdrawal should be coupled with other political gestures,” she prompted. “Perhaps a formal end to the occupation? A declaration of Cardassian autonomy?” “There are clearly diplomatic considerations involved in the withdrawal of Aegis,” Sorehl acknowledged, “but it would be inappropriate for me to advise on subjects outside the scope of my commission.” A low, gravelly voice from the Efrosian delegate joined the commentary. “That is a convenient evasion, Commissioner,” he noted. “What you’re proposing would spark a basic shift in our dealings with the Cardassians. And you have no suggestions, no motives for addressing that?” The Vulcan’s response was immediate. “I am foremost an engineer, occasionally constrained to command and strategic planning. I am neither qualified or authorized to advance policy, since it is beyond my mandate.” “Your recommendations ignore the political importance of a base at the Cardassian homeworld,” the Efrosian continued, representing his portion of the Idealist caucus. “The debate can’t be reduced to a simple binary statement of whether it stays or goes.” Sorehl considered the statement. “I agree. But I am not debating. I am making an informed recommendation.” “What about the economic impact of such a move?” the Argelian delegate threw in. “I am even less qualified to address those considerations,” Sorehl admitted, using considerable emotional restraint to overcome his dismissive impulse. “The Ferengi may be concerned about the sizable investment they have made in Aegis commercial facilities. Still, I suspect such matters would be the subject of negotiation.” He had no way of knowing how much of an understatement this would later prove to be. The Vulcan delegate, who had been quiet through most of the proceedings, spoke up. “It has been suggested that this Council lacks the authority to make a unilateral decision on the fate of Aegis.” “Quite true,” Sorehl relented. “Any withdrawal should be managed with Cardassian consent to develop a mutually acceptable timetable. It is even possible their government does not wish to encourage the withdrawal of Sky Harbor.” He let a long pause lapse. “But I seriously doubt it." The other Vulcan folded his hands on the O-shaped table. “You misunderstand,” came the mild rebuke. “It has been suggested that Aegis is not ours to withdraw.” To his right, a Rigelian diplomat leaned forward. “This was originally an Allied project,” he observed. “Wouldn’t it take an agreement from our allies to effect a withdrawal? Possibly the Klingons or the Romulans would be interested in taking our place in operating Sky Harbor? They made investments and contributions to the station, too.” The delegate from Andor nodded. “There are those that suggest a return to operations by a joint-body of our allies.” “Impossible,” Sorehl stated firmly. There was a look of mild surprise from the Andorian across the table. “One cannot return to a state that never existed.” The Vulcan leaned forward on his elbows. “We return to subjects on which I am qualified to speak. The suggestion - particularly by the Romulans - that Starfleet pushed out our allies, assumed ownership of Aegis, and resisted sharing control demonstrates a willful ignorance of fact. As a signatory to those early agreements, I admit I held a naïve expectation of great operational contributions by the Romulans, the Klingons, and the Bajorans. It never materialized. The number of foreign senior officers assigned to Aegis in the subsequent eight years can be listed in single digits. Governor K’Vorlag summed up Klingon indifference with the statement: ‘There are no monuments to glorious occupations’. “There were significant investments in Cardassian reconstruction by the Romulans and especially the Ferengi. These should not be understated,” he acknowledged, “but it represents the bulk of their post-war contribution. It should similarly limit the extent of their influence over the fate of Aegis. The decision to remove a facility they have chosen to ignore should have little bearing on Allied relations with us or with the Cardassians.” Sorehl eased back against his chair, knowing his comments had been less than diplomatic. A period of silence followed, which he was uncertain how to interpret. Did they not anticipate the firmness of his answer? He had spent six months interviewing and gather data and reviewing official logs. His conclusions were neither pre-conceived or ill-founded. “If the Council will indulge me,” he spoke, trying to shift the momentum, “I have previously discussed the stated missions of Aegis and my belief that they have been accomplished. In concluding my remarks, I would like to address the unstated mission of Aegis – a third, unadmitted role whose fulfillment, if required, would demand an unending presence: “Making certain Cardassia never rises to threaten our peace again…”

"Your question makes you guilty," Commissioner Sorehl asserted, "of assuming a false dichotomy." He straightened in his chair, addressing the Tellarite dignitary. "The withdrawal of Aegis from the Cardassian homeworld is not an attempt to 'cut and run' from our responsibility in the region. Indeed, it is the eventuality implied by established political benchmarks for a return of their autonomy. He went on. "In short, the removal of Sky Harbor facility from Cardassia is a logical, measured step toward their sovereignty and a symbolic end to the taint of Federation 'occupation'. It would demonstrate the fulfillment of the Aegis mission, not its failed conclusion." "So you honestly think we're done there?" the Tellarite grunted, incredulous. "Allow me to clarify," Sorehl continued. "In my assessment, Aegis has completed its role as a protector; its continued presence is merely delaying Cardassia from rightfully assuming defense of their own homeworld." "But your own report gives accounts which contradict your recommendation," the Ixarian delegate noted from another location at the table, "the previous commanding officer…" "No doubt you refer to Admiral Goran's commentary," the Vulcan broke in. "I believe he indicated 'it is not impossible for an outside force to take advantage of the weakened state of the native military and government forces'," he quoted. The delegate from Ixar set down his own display device. "This would seem to undermine your argument." "Councilman," Sorehl countered, "my commission did not authorize me to ignore contradictory opinion. My task was to find facts, not seek consensus. If unanimity were a prerequisite of decision, we would be a paralyzed power indeed. I do not discount the Admiral's opinion, even if I do not share it... any longer." There was a brief moment of silence. "Any longer?" came the question from the Andorian delegate. The Vulcan steepled his fingers, leaning back somewhat. "It would be fair to note that the conclusions of my report were not those I began with." He paused to see if there was an immediate follow-up question. Sensing a desire for him to elaborate, he continued. "The reality is," he began, "while Aegis was meant to be a shield against external threats. too often that threat has been the Federation itself." There were low-level murmurs, but he pressed on to make his point. "In the post-war years, there is no doubt Cardassia suffered turmoil – terrorist attacks, political assassinations, the kidnapping of diplomats, even martial law. Aegis was an essential stabilizing force during these crises." "But the tone has changed. I have walked on their homeworld. I have met with their leaders and their citizens. The people are being fed. Industry is returning. Elections have been conducted peaceably. Freedoms have been extended. Cities have been rebuilt." "In contrast to being a defensive platform, Aegis may now actually lure threats toward Cardassia Prime by offering an easily reachable Federation target. The Security Council is well familiar with the Breen incursion and the recent encounter with Species 8472. The Cardassians demonstrated an ability to defend themselves and to render assistance to Starfleet as an ally." Breaking off, he saved one of the more damning Federation incidents for closed session. This was not the placed to recount how rogue Starfleet elements had introduced the debilitating hemorrhagic fever that had swept the planet. "The Cardassians have shown signs they are ready to exercise their sovereignty – a goal we claim to share. Instead, are we going to stubbornly cling to our wartime gains and reveal unstated, ulterior motives? If so, we can only expect Aegis to remain in one officer's words, a 'focus for their discontent'."

Sorehl sipped from the glass of Altair water that had been provided for him. The Security Council had called for a brief adjournment - a "biological break" according to the Terran delegate - before proceeding with the last open session. The Council had asked a disturbing number of questions regarding the political and economic ramifications of concluding the Aegis Mission. While he had formed opinions, he considered such decisions within the realm of the diplomats themselves. It was for them to debate and consider Federation policy, not a low-level functionary like himself. Although he had included interviews in his report, it might be prudent to suggest the Council seek direct input from diplomats familiar with the environs - like Ambassador shiKatsu Raumuk, Envoy-General T'Salik, and Ambassador Joy Seven. They would be better suited to consider any political steps that would follow the withdrawal of Aegis. He took another sip of the cool water. Four years ago, after serving as its commanding officer, he had conducted the transfer of Empok Nor back to Cardassian control (see Stirrings of Freedom). That orderly event had been one of the planned transition steps toward Cardassian self-rule. The Council seemed much less certain about this next phase. Was it possible the Federation had never truly conceived of a final exit strategy? Or was it that they never planned to actually invoke it? Not for the last time, he considered that logic and politics were dissimilar concepts.

Which goes to show just how prescient DS9 was. There are so many things about the Cardassians and the Dominion War arc that wound up having parallels with current world events. The imagery of the Breen surprise attack on San Fransisco, the issues of a wealthy democracy fighting a war for survival. BSG explores the same issues (note that Ron Moore was involved with both), but does so from a contemporary setting. DS9 envisioned it before those conditions were real. That's one of the reasons DS9 is the most enduring of the Trek series for me. On topic: ... you sit around late at night composing arguments on why your favorite Trek series is THE best of the series...

Does this make her the Cal Ripkin of STSF, et al?