Sorehl

From his vantage within Drankum’s, the Commissioner looked toward the Midway entrance. Seeing the approach of Commander Hawke, he moved toward her. He unfastened the clasp of his outer cloak and removed it, revealing his uniform beneath. “Good day, Commander,” he nodded in greeting. He folded the cloak over his arm. Hawke looked toward the Commissioner, recognizing him at once. “I thought so,” she declared. His voice had sounded familiar from the summons. “Captain Sorehl, a pleasure to see you, sir.” Though they had not worked together, she was aware of his role in establishing Sky Harbor just after the war’s conclusion. The Vulcan captain gestured toward an open table, and the two sat across from one another. From behind the bar, the Bajoran manager Patti Santos moved to take their order personally. “As you may be aware,” he began, “I have been conducting an inquiry for the Security Council, interviewing various crewmembers.” “I had heard a bit of it, yes,” she admitted, “though I didn't know it was you.” “Yes,” he explained. “It seemed wise to keep my identity confidential to avoid disruption. It has been most enlightening.” “Really? How so?” she prompted. Perhaps she could hear some of his early impressions. Hearing her question, Sorehl went on. “I have encountered, shall we say, a diversity of opinion on just what Aegis' mission is believed to be.” Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Interesting... Such as?” The Vulcan blinked momentarily, as if shifting in thought. “Before I answer, may I ask that same question of you? What is your perspective of Aegis' primary mission?” She smirked. She had been hoping to distract him and avoid the coming line of questioning. “You can ask.” Sorehl set his PADD aside, signaling an honest interest in the response. “Very well,” he concurred, pressing on. “What do you consider to be Aegis' primary mission?” Hawke chose that moment to order a drink from Patty, before returning her attention. “What do you think?” Patty moved off, not even asking the Vulcan for his preference. He wondered if she was choosing to be intentionally evasive. “My thoughts are,” he paused to edit himself, “if not irrelevant, then not pertinent. I am interested in the diverse perspectives, hence my inquiry.” Ethan failed to suppress a smirk. “I don't know if I have a good answer for you, captain. We were sent here to help rebuilding efforts after the war... not dissimilar to the American's helping Japan after Earth’s Second World War,” she answered, invoking the historical analogy. “But it didn’t take the Americans eight years to complete that task.” The Vulcan nodded. “True. Although the Federation did not attempt to occupy the whole of Cardassia,” he observed, noting a difference. “Go on, Commander.” “I'm not entirely sure if we have a real purpose here now,” she continued. “The situation seems to be in a bit of a status quo. Is that due to our presence here? Or in spite of it?” Sorehl listened. “Then do you believe Aegis has completed its primary mission? Should it be discontinued? Or withdrawn?” “I don't know, but I’m not sure it’s mission can be completed as long as Cardassia sees us as a Fleet 'taskmaster'.” The Vulcan leaned back as he considered. “Taskmaster. Explain.” Patty brought a tray with Hawke’s order, as well as a tall glass of Altair water with fresh uttaberries. Sorehl accepted it with a recognizing nod. She had remembered. “We remind them that they were beaten. That they lost. And they focus on their disgust at our presence instead of moving forward with their lives. They seem to see us being here as forcing them into doing things ‘our’ way.” Commissioner Sorehl steepled his fingers into a double ta'al triangle. “Has Aegis been able to do much in the way of assisting the rebuilding effort on Cardassia? Or has its presence been largely peacekeeping in nature?” He gestured toward the PADD. “There seems to be a division of opinion between those two roles.” “Neither, in my opinion,” Hawke asserted. “We simply seem to give them a focus for their discontent.” “Is it too late to change that?” Sorehl wondered aloud. “Or is it time to let the Cardassians alone?” Hawke recounted occasions where officers had not been well received by the populace. To those, Sorehl added the kidnapping of Ambassador shiKatsu Raumuk and the attacks on observers of the planet-wide elections. “As I said, I think the mere presence does more harm than good now,” Ethan summarized. “Then you advocate Aegis' withdrawal from the system?” the Commissioner asked. “I didn't say that,” she insisted. “It's not my place to advocate or determine our future. That's the job of some stuffy Admirals with no grasp of reality out here in the hinterlands. Far be it from me to attempt to tell them what to do.” The Vulcan leaned closer. “With all due candor, that is why I was sent as a Commissioner. To hear from the front lines, as it were. This decision goes well beyond the Admiralty.” He paused. “I am empowered to keep your comments confidential, if you prefer, Commander.” Hawke looked away. Sorehl wondered if his assurances would be sufficient. Finally, she shrugged. “I think if things remain the same, the results will be the same in another eight years or perhaps even 80 years. If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you always got.” “Then, perhaps you advocate something different? Something untried, or perhaps, no longer attempted?” He glanced up as Patty filled his water glass again. Ethan shrugged again. “I don't know that I have the answers, captain. It seems that the present course of action isn’t achieving the desired goals. So, either we continue not meeting goals, or we change the course of action – perhaps even continuing somewhere outside the Cardassian system. It might make us appear less of a threat.” “Indeed.” It was Sorehl’s turn to be candid. “It was never my intention to see Aegis installed as merely an ‘eye in the sky’ and especially not a ‘boot to the neck’ as some in the Cardassian media have called it.” Hawke nodded. “It’s entirely possible they haven’t forged ahead in rebuilding because they are either waiting for us to do it all, or fearing that they can’t do it in their own way because of our presence – that we'll dictate what they can and can't do.” “Interesting perspective,” he admitted. “I shall make certain to add it to my report.” “I'm glad I could bring a little difference of opinion to your day,” she acknowledged with a smile. “I'd hate to just parrot the 'party line'.” Sorehl made a mental note to transcribe the conversation. He would allow the commander a chance to review it and determine if she wanted her suggestions attributed to her. “Truth be told,” he hypothesized, “you are probably right. There will be change at Aegis.”

A joint log with Scott Coleridge, written with the "Commissioner" Inside an interview room aboard the docked starship Yorktown, the Commissioner let his questions hang in the air. For the past half hour, he'd scribbled notes in Vulcan script as he asked about the nature and success of Aegis' mission to Cardassia Prime – some kind of "fact-finding" activity for the Federation Security Council. Scott Coleridge wondered why he, as an assistant engineer, had been selected to answer such questions. He'd been assured the inquiry had no connection to the captain's court martial. Still, he found himself pointing out how the mission to stop Endeavor had been a form of humanitarian aid to the Cardassian homeworld. The Commissioner had raised an eyebrow at that, but simply took note. "There are political elements who suggest," the final question had started, "that Aegis' continued presence is a liability and that it should pull out from Cardassian space. How would you respond to this? Do you agree?" Scott shifted in his seat. He pondered for several moments before he finally said, "If it's the Cardassians who want us gone, that's one thing. It's their space; we should respect that. But as long as the Cardassians want us here, we have a great opportunity. Last year the Breen nearly destroyed Aegis - some might call that an act of war. So the Federation rebuilt Aegis, but if I recall reading the news correctly, the Cardassians lent us a fair amount of help. That's a big step away from the DMZ and state of near-hostilities prior to the Dominion War. If the Cardassian government does become more stable and regain its strength as an Alpha Quadrant power, then they will be a valuable ally. If we leave now, before that happens, it just creates a power vacuum in this region. And there's some who'd take advantage of that." Scott paused and blinked. He certainly had not expected that speech. He had not thought this deeply about political matters since he switched from archaeology to engineering at the Academy. He had forgotten how much more complex people were than machines, and how much harder they were to fix. The Commissioner scribbled, then set down the stylus and PADD. "Thank you, Mr. Coleridge," he indicated as he stood. He did not offer a handshake, but Scott didn't expect one. "Your participation is appreciated. If you should opt for your comments to remain private, I will ensure that none are attributed to you directly. I will provide a transcript of our discussion, and you are also entitled to a copy of the final report, once it is presented to committee." Scott got up. "Thank you." "My questions are not confidential, but I would prefer if you avoid discussing your specific answers with fellow officers until I have interviewed them. This will reduce bias," the Commissioner explained. "Again, thank you for your time." Scott nodded and left the interview room. Alone, Commissioner Sorehl reseated himself. He consulted his list, with its hundreds of names. In many ways, it was the opinions and impressions of the junior officers that would be most revealing. Most of them would be unaware of his identity or his past involvement with the station. He would start with them and continue until his mission was complete.

“First of all, Ambassador Sidega,” Commissioner Sorehl began, PADD in hand, “allow me to thank you for agreeing to this interview via subspace.” Onscreen, Sevolth Sidega of the Gorn Alliance nodded imperceptibly. “You have had an opportunity to review my written questions,” the Vulcan continued. “For the sake of clarity, I will pose them to you one at a time and record your response.” He paused, noting another silent acknowledgement. He realized he had little to no experience with the Gorn as a species and hoped he was reading the body language appropriately. “Very well,” he pressed on. “In your opinion, what is the Federation's intent for Sky Harbor Aegis within the Cardassian system? In your time aboard, do you feel that you contributed to this mission?” Sevolth slid forward, the skin tightening around his face in what Sorehl believed could be a Gorn smile. “What the Federation’s has purposed for its station is your business,” he stated articulately. “What I was ‘sold’ was a place where species could come together and work on building a stable and peaceful environment for the Cardassian people.” His hand appeared from below screen, hefting a sizeable tankard with some odd colored liquid. He took a sizable sip. “From your staffing practices, I've taken its mission is to simply keep an eye of the rabble down there so there's not another war. And I am afraid I aided in neither mission.” Sorehl considered pointing out that he was a civilian agent, no longer part of Starfleet, and had nothing to do with the station’s staffing, but let the statement stand. “Why do you think the Cardassians have been unable to form a stable government eight years after the cessation of hostilities?” Onscreen, the Gorn’s gaze remained impassive, almost a stone cold gaze. “Because it takes more than eight years to form a stable government,” Ambassador Sidega replied. He loosened his gaze. “And the people must want peace,” he emphasized, looking to the side. “Little can be achieved without that.” “Would you agree with elements who suggest Aegis has finished or failed its mission and should pull out from Cardassian space?” Sevolth shook his head. “Your mission is not done and is not beyond success.” He paused. “Just…don't let your own people's growing pains hurt the Cardassian’s efforts. And I think your original Aegis had a good idea in making itself a fortress with short arms.” An upraised eyebrow preceded the comment, “I’m not sure I follow.” “The ‘T-Rex’ design philosophy, I believe,” the Gorn explained. “I had to look up what a ‘Tee-Rex’ was after being called it a dozen times during an... interesting ambassadorial debate with one of your humans. Keep all the teeth you want in your mouth but keep your reach close and out of other peoples business.” An analogy consistent with Gorn attitudes, Sorehl thought. “What, if anything, can be gained by Aegis' continued presence near Cardassia Prime? What should its remaining priorities be?” There was little pause before Sevolth’s answer. “Peace can be maintained.” He went on. “You've played the over-meddling schoolmaster... don't play the abandoning parent now.” Clearly, the Commissioner noted, the ambassador had some particular incidents in mind. He took note in his own Vulcan script to review station events during the Gorn’s stay. “Focus on Cardassians,” he was continuing onscreen. “Focus on THEIR culture, THEIR strengths, THEIR WISHES. Always remember you are the guests in that part of space.” A matter of some debate among the respondents, Sorehl observed, but it led well into his final questions. “In your opinion, do the Cardassians favor Aegis' continued presence, ignore it, or object to it as a foreign incursion? “ The Gorn’s expression was difficult to interpret. “They've....dealt with it. I would assume each Cardassian would have their own viewpoint on that question ranging from ‘Blow it up’ to ‘Aegis what?’". “Then, should the Cardassians have a voice in whether Sky Harbor remains in their space?” “That is up to you to decide,” Ambassador Sidega answered evasively. He took another sip of the oddly-colored liquid. “I would highly recommend persuading them to let you stay, but it is their home we're talking about.” * * * * * The interview ended with pleasantries before the signal was cut on both ends. One more viewpoint to integrate into his perspective and ultimately, into his report. Sorehl looked about the darkened interview room on the Yorktown, deciding it was finally time to come out of the shadows. He wondered if Drankum's was still open at all hours...

The Commissioner left Ensign Feretti in the science lab, having completed one of the last interviews he'd intended. Although the young officer was relatively new to the station, she had provided insightful answers as to the current impressions of Aegis' mission and future. She seemed somehow familiar, as if he'd seen her before. He would have to consult his records. She had clearly not known him. He stepped onto the lift, preparing to return to the Yorktown. Thusfar, he'd managed to avoid disrupting station activity and being drawn into the ongoing legal activity. In addition to the station-bound portion of his inquiry, he had received subspace responses from several external sources. Under the watchful eye of Starfleet security, he further proposed to talk with Cardassian officials selected by Ambassador shiKatsu Raumuk; he preferred to do that planetside, but would yield if security insisted the visits take place onboard. The Security Council would appreciate that his report would weave in perspectives as diverse as the station's past and present crew, former command staff, and a certain Ferengi who'd been invaluable in establishing the station. Diplomatic insights had also been provided from the Joy series, former envoy T'Salik, and Jeralla Ramson. On the trip to Sky Harbor, he'd even let Captain Halloway recount some of his prior visits. He had not yet heard back from the Gorn and Romulan representatives he had contacted, but there was still time. None of those impressions, of course, displaced his own fully-formed opinions. He was too familiar with the station's history to let any one respondant sway his own perceptions. He'd been advised that Lieutenant Commander Hawke would probably offer written comments, but she might yet be able to speak to him. He had not yet made it a personal request, invoking only his credentials. He could no doubt corner Commander Brown on the Control Tower, but it might be less challenging to speak with him in a neutral setting like Drankum's. It would no longer be necessary to avoid common knowledge of his presence, and it would offer him a chance to speak with some of the civilians, as well. Reaching Muon during the trial might prove difficult, but in the end, she was one of the intended recipients of his report. He would not proceed without her - or whomever would become Aegis' next CO. The conduct of a court-martial amidst this investigation was disconcerting. Curiously, for those respondants who had cited Aegis' diplomatic role as primary, many referred to this recent action as the most significant contribution to peace. Encouraging that it seemed to be so widely regarded by the crew, disturbing that it seemed shrouded in secrecy and that its legality was in dispute. As a civil servant empowered by the Council, he did not consider it within his mandate to involve himself in the proceedings in any official way. He still believed that to be true. Still, if its subject had impressed so much of the crew with having best fulfilled Aegis' mission, perhaps he could simply observe. He still had his clearance. Perhaps it was time to see just what was going on.

Commissioner Sorehl reviewed the official diplomatic memorandum he'd received from Ambassador Einya trAeolix of the Romulan Star Empire. He appreciated the swiftness, considering his knowledge that such a response was usually vetted by a political officer through a Senate subcommittee before transmission. It would be necessary, of course, to maintain the privacy of this response until his official written report to the Security Council, but he would be able to share general Romulan sentiment in confering with the commanding officer of Aegis. Had he not possessed the benefit of emotional mastery, Sorehl might have been amused at the revisionist tone of the Ambassador's "understanding" of the Aegis Mission. His implication that the Federation had assumed dominance of Sky Harbor was clearly at odds with the waning interest the Romulans had shown toward assigning their officers to this "remote" station. But that was a matter for open discussion; he would not dismiss the trAeolix's perspective simply because he disagreed with it. He was mildly surprised to detect an undertone of Romulan interest in a returning presence. Recent experience had suggested they were pulling back into what might be another round of isolationism. It was of additional interest to note Romulan concern, whether real or feigned, in the independence of Cardassia. While Sorehl disagreed with the assessment of Cardassia Prime as a Federation protectorate, the concern for sovereignty was not unique to the Romulans. Cardassia could hardly be considered occupied space with such a minimal Starfleet presence, but the sentiment of Aegis as the Federation's "eye in the sky" was not uncommon. It was for this reason his inquiry included questions about the role of their government in self-determination - would the Cardassian's be given a say over the continued presence of Aegis? He transferred the response into his database, noting his own observations in Vulcan script. He made a note of appreciation to the Ambassador, along with a promise to share his recommendations. He also promised to provide a copy of the finished report. So much for platitudes. In the darkness of his interview room aboard the Yorktown, he reviewed the responses he was still anticipating. He was not certain he had reached the Admiral in his retirement. The Romulans considered Aegis' mission a failure, even if it's crew did not. And yet they seemed willing to pursue it, to expand it. He wondered what the Gorn and the Klingons would say...

"Sorry, that was your final question," the security officer had said with finality. Lieutenant Commander Ronin Shephard moved his hand over the Commissioner's PADD, which had been recording their interview. "And if this conversation is used for something I don't like I'm going to come have a few words with you. So I would check with me first." And with that, he stood and promptly walked out of the briefing room, presumably off of the starship Yorktown itself. Sorehl watched him go, placing the PADD and stylus down. In response to the somewhat abrupt end to his line of questioning, he allowed himself only a one-word comment: "Fascinating." He'd been cautioned, and had witnessed himself, that Aegis personnel had grown to harbor a healthy mistrust of civilians - or was it just outsiders? Even if it was clear they didn't entirely agree what their mission was, they had a sense of loyalty to finishing it. What had Dr. Pavillion warned him? He checked the notes he had written in Vulcan script. "If I hear or find out that we're being pulled from Cardassia," he read from her interview, "as a medical officer, I will make sure you're evaluated by Starfleet Medical." Perhaps I should have worn my uniform, Sorehl considered. No, he reasoned, it would imply a Starfleet mandate that is not present. Still, it might have put the more emotional ones at ease. After dozens of sessions, there were few junior officers left for him to interview. It would be difficult to mesh their statements into a coherent picture of Aegis, especially if one were to evaluate the success of its mission. While several of those interviewed indicated Aegis' presence was diplomatic in nature and designed to bring the Cardassians back to the family of nations, they were divided on why Cardassia Prime was still so volatile. Other officers had suggested Sky Harbor was there to "keep the peace" or "to keep order and serve as a Federation presence", as Shephard had put it. An attempt to deconflict a rebuilding mission with a police action might explain some of the dualism observed on the station over the past eight years. The android Joy had given him a thorough, written response - such as one would expect from a member of that series, the Commissioner thought approvingly. She had mentioned the overwhelming duties of Aegis command attempting to serve as chief diplomat, policy maker, and military governor. It was a difficult balancing act, he admitted. He knew all too well from his own command. It was for this cause he was dispatched to Sky Harbor - to help ascertain if it's mission could be more tightly defined and to offer suggestions on their future priorities. He looked at his list. It would be necessary for him to go aboard in order to speak with Dr. Lepage, since the doctor was interred in sickbay. He would make a discreet transit tomorrow. If he could avoid conflict with the trial, it would be time to make inquiries with the command staff. He would begin there with Lieutenant Commander Hawke. He knew her mainly by reputation; she was a senior officer - no doubt it would be an unemotional affair.

General Statistics Name: Sorehl Species : Vulcan Gender : male Age : 2312 Height : 177.80 cm (5 ft. 10 in.) Weight : 68.04 kg (160 lbs.) Eye Color : blue Hair Color : black, greying Skin Color : caucasian Place of Birth : Gol'shiVahr Arcology, Yhri Province, Vulcan Features: full beard Bloodtype : T negative (rare) Educational Background - Vulcan Institute of Technology: primary degree in systems engineering, secondary degree in aerospace, fieldwork in political science and administrative theory; StarFleet Academy: engineering, thesis in tactical systems analysis, minor in interstellar relations; Post-Academy training: starbase operations and logistics, command certification. Personal Background - Sorehl has been bonded for the past four decades to Ambassador T'Salik, currently serving as Federation Envoy-General in the Gamma Quadrant. He and his wife have four daughters, T'Kel (age 24), T'Ael (21), T'Jen (age 18), and T'Rial (age 10), as well as one son Sawyek (age 12). He has personal history with Ambassador Drankum, tracing back to their mutual presence aboard now-SB405 in the Canar system during the Dominion War. His oldest daughter is a graduate of Starfleet Academy, having specialized in communications and linguistics, like her mother. Career History - Prior to age fifty, Sorehl was involved in technical work as a civilian with Shuvinaljis Warp Technologies, Wilson Energies, and Chandley Works Ltd, notably during modernization of the Galactic Positioning System. As a contractor, he aided development of anti-torpedo systems now employed on Nebula- and Andor-class starships. He also supported the development of quantum payloads, phaser collimaters, tri-cobalt torpedoes, and interphase technology. Choosing to join StarFleet himself after the Federation's first contact with the Borg, he applied his engineering skills toward starship design and tactical system integration at Utopia Planitia. Sorehl was given his first starship posting aboard the Excalibur-A in 2370. (This was his only starship posting prior to reaching command.) His tactical engineering background lent itself to a transfer to operations, from which he was posted to the newly deployed Starbase Aegis in the Canar system. After serving as chief science officer, then executive officer, he rose to command of Aegis after the loss of its captain during the pre-emptive strike which opened the Dominion War. From that vantage point, he supported strategic fleet operations along that border. He briefly commanded the Excalibur-A during successful liberation of the Decelea asteroid field. Following the war, the Canar colony gained formal status as a Federation protectorate and the station was redesignated SB405. Sorehl assisted in the construction and emplacement of Sky Harbor Aegis above Cardassia Prime, negotiating a Ferengi presense with Ambassador Drankum. Sorehl later assumed the role of territorial governor for Allied occupation forces at the Empok Nor space station. He continued with this posting until the formal transition of that facility to Cardassian control three years later. He commanded Camelot Station in the Avalon system, during its Gamma Quadrant assembly to support the starship Excalibur-B. In this capacity, he directed fleet maintenance, coordinated with Romulan and Klingon ambassadors, served as a Dominion advisor, and planned strategic operations defending against incursions by Hundred and Scorpiad forces. Three years ago, Sorehl stepped down from command, entered the Reserves, and returned to civilian life. During that time, he was enlisted as Special Commissioner to the Federation Security Council, submitting a report which recommended that Sky Harbor Aegis be withdrawn from the Cardassian homeworld. He later negotiated to overcome objections from the Ferengi Alliance on moving the station near Breen space. He remained a private citizen, working as a correspondent and political activist while living in the Avalon colony until the Federation withdrawal from the Gamma Quadrant. Returning to the Alpha Quadrant, he continued his activism, but has since dropped from the public eye. Service Record Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards, shakedown specialist (2365) Maximus II Weapons Testing Range, tactical testing (2368) USS Excalibur, tactical systems engineer (2370) StarBase Aegis, mission operations (2370) StarBase Aegis, chief science officer (2371) StarBase Aegis, executive officer (2373) StarBase Aegis, commanding officer (2374) Empok Nor, Federation occupational governor (2377) Camelot Station, commanding officer (2380) StarFleet Reserve, captain (2383 - present); Commissioner (2283) Notable Career Incidents Rescued Maquis survivors of Dominion attacks near McAllister nebula. Endured psychological torture by Semil while Dominion prisoner of war for three months. Commanded starship Excalibur during liberation of Decelea system. Established Ferengi trade mission with Ambassador Drankum at Canar II. Decorated for aiding defection of the Cardassian 12th Brigade at Sarpedion V (Order of Damar). Commanded construction of Sky Harbor Aegis during first year of Cardassian occupation. Directed restoration of Cardassian station Empok Nor to operational status. Director of assembly for Camelot Station in the Avalon system, Gamma Quadrant. Successfully commanded mission to liberate diplomats from Scorpiad fleet. Commanded defense of Marine landing and capture of Scorpiad wormhole collar. Assigned as Commissioner to the Security Council to assess Aegis' continuing mission. Treaty negotiations with Ferengi Alliance Medical History - Although he has endured the usual series of space-borne illnesses and alien viruses, Sorehl has no known medical issues. A testament to Federation medical science, he has survived attacks from carnivorous insect swarms, severe plasma burns, radiation poisoning, turboshaft falls, Jem'Hadar combat, and even an assassination attempt. He bears a distinctive tattoo on his lower right back, the result of a first contact mission with the Ovetra culture. Psychological Profile – Sorehl has the calm, dedicated demeanor of a typical Vulcan. Although his own actions are supported by logic, he makes allowances for the emotionalism of others. He demonstrates strong loyalty to those he serves and has been surprised to inspire it from unlikely sources. He is intolerant of needless violence, disrespect for StarFleet principles, and general prejudice. Miscellaneous - Sorehl has a developed interest in strategy games (kaltoh, chess, komerex, and kotra) and has been known to play an occasional game of racquetball. He has spent nearly sixty years studying various Vulcan mind sciences under the mentorship of the Y'hri discipline. He has managed to develop good working relationships with Klingon officers, having studied their language, culture, and defensive arts. Sorehl considers himself a technocrat, an engineer constrained into leadership roles, although he has proven an able diplomat with the Cardassian government. His associations have exposed him to Klingon, Ferengi, and Vorta psychologies, and provided extensive understanding of Dominion tactics and Cardassian politics. The Romulan psyche, he has admitted, continues to elude him. He has avoided starship assignments, prefering duties that allow his wife and children to live close to him. Although he has been pressed into diplomatic roles, he will often pointedly observe that he is not and has never been an ambassador. Medals, Awards, and Decorations Distinguished Service Cluster, POW Ribbon, Order of Excellence, Crimson Shield (w/ 8 pips), Scorpiad Conflict, Dominion Campaign, Cardassian DMZ, Battle of Cardassia Prime, Battle of Torros II, Gamma Quadrant, Cardassian Reconstruction, Starbase Administration, Command Cluster, Inducted into Cardassian Order of Damar, 2376

Given his return to Aegis in the role of Commissioner, I have revised and updated Sorehl's biography.

In uniform despite his reserve status, former-Captain Sorehl rubbed his hands as he walked briskly through a well-lit corridor of Starfleet Command. Still pondering the significance of his encounter with Admiral Saylek, he noted the gleaming newness of this particular hall, a contrast to other venerable sections in this edifice to Federation ideals and military might. As he recalled, this wing had suffered significant damage during the Breen assault on San Francisco near the close of the Dominion War. Saylek had chosen to place his flag in that rebuilt section in honor of the fallen superior whose duties he’d been elevated to assume. It was in this office where Sorehl had been asked a direct question from his Vulcan kinsman and mentor. “I would be remiss,” Saylek stated, “if I did not ask outright your reason for leaving Starfleet.” The answer had not been straightforward. In fact, responding to the admiral had forced him to reconsider the chain of events that had forged into the resolution which now bound him. Where it pulled, he was as yet uncertain, but it was easy to trace back along its links. He should not have lived through the Battle of the Wormhole, as textbooks now called it. Having drawn the dangerous assignment of defending the Marine landing on the wormhole collar, he had calculated the odds of his personal survival at being less than 1 in 4.23. But the Scorpiad had been successfully misdirected. The sturdy Andor-class missile cruiser Thala'And had proven its worth with a virtuoso performance that had prevented the loss of a single Marine transport. And although they’d been forced to abandon ship, he’d somehow survived the boarding action that had secured the collar and allowed the fleet at Bajor to come through. In the months that followed, he’d watched diplomatic talents build a tenuous truce amongst the Gamma Quadrant powers. Sensing a less militant means of contributing, Sorehl made his own efforts to extract a pledge of non-violence from the Hundred. Semil had relented, committing to limit their continued strife with the Dominion to merely a competition for the allegiance of worlds – a modern variant of the Organian Peace Treaty. As these negotiations began to bear fruit, however, all three Alpha powers – Romulan, Klingon, and Federation – began to pull back their respective fleets. To Sorehl, this was a clear signal of their unwillingness to be caught in the next round of crossfire, a fact he had noted in his reports to Starfleet Command. Although these objections had gone unanswered, he had also raised them to Ambassador Joy Seven, the ranking diplomat who had been dispatched to Camelot to oversee Federation dialogue with all three Gamma powers. Had it been the dialogue with Joy Seven that had shaped his determination? Or had it merely crystallized his perception that lasting peace would require a fundamental change in the nature of the Dominion and its competitors? The Admiralty had seen fit to question every command decision made during the wormhole closure. With Excalibur missing, Sorehl had found himself in the unenviable position of joining Admiral Day in a detailed rehearsal of each one. Surprisingly, he had been praised for his rescue of Ambassador T’Salik from the Scorpiad, despite his own assertion that it was an unwarranted risk of ship and crew. He had found himself both criticized and commended for insisting Corizon develop alternatives to violating the treaty ban on subspace weapons. Yet his own inquiries on the nature of the the Council’s authorization to use “any means necessary” to prevent invasion of the Alpha Quadrant were passed on dismissively. Amongst this virtual inquisition, there had been the fruitless months aboard the Scorpiad wormhole collar, trying to duplicate the effect observed at Excalibur’s disappearance. With each failure, it seemed increasingly illogical to continue, but Admiral Day had continued offering them time and resources. Although Ramson had run countless transits through the wormhole and Blair continued his sensor analysis, they had been unable to locate the missing ship. It had been this roadblock that had led to their attempt to contact the wormhole aliens themselves. Sorehl paused outside the turbolift as the doors opened. His experience in the wormhole, although it had confirmed Excalibur had not been destroyed, had proven to be a far more personal encounter than expected. It had clearly influenced his decision to return to Vulcan and undergo the clan ordeal, which had ramifications of its own. He rubbed his hand again. He had yet to understand the meaning of what Admiral Saylek had revealed in the unexpected touch transfer at the conclusion of their meeting. Certainly, it had been the reason for his being summoned in person. Just where would this new link take him?

To put it succinctly, if a Vulcan can indeed claim to do so: brilliant.

Sorehl leaned forward in his folding chair, using a poker to prod the burning wood. In response, the contents of the massive copper firepit crackled loudly, wafting a cloud of embers skyward. The warmth of the blaze staved off the cool, misty air of Avalon which descended as night fell outside his planet-side home. He eased back, setting the poker to rest against the rough hewn surface of the Vulcan flagstone that paved the overlooking terrace. On his lap, an infant boy waggled his arms, fascinated by the dancing flames. Sorehl turned his eyes toward the horizon, his poor night vision straining against the fading twilight. No other lights interrupted the unbroken night. “She is out there, my son,” he spoke in assuring tones to the child. “She may simply be too far for us to see her own fire.” Though his eyes had not evolved to deal with such poorly lit environments, his ears had no trouble discerning the footfalls approaching behind him. He could even recognize the hem of her robe gliding gently against the coarse rock. Ambassador T’Salik touched his shoulder. “On the other hand,” she noted, “she may simply be too involved in examining some native fauna to notice the diminishing light. She does seem to have inherited an overdeveloped single-mindedness to that which holds her momentary fascination.” “A distinct possibility,” Sorehl agreed. He was not concerned about his eldest daughter’s ability to start a fire. In the months preceding the ritual test of her kahs-wan, they had worked together to master this basic survival skill. It had been a skill he himself had not learned until much older, having been able to rely on the presence of lava-fields near the Plains of Gol during his own pre-teen ordeal. Even then, dissuading predators had been the primary concern, not the need for warmth. Ten days alone in the wastelands of Vulcan were far different than ten days in the wilderness of Avalon. T’Kel was now on her ninth. His wife took the empty chair beside the fire, setting a display pad down on the small circular table between them. Sorehl glanced down at the PADD, inclined his head toward her, and raised an eyebrow. “The Dominion have reported the defection of another Vorta and his supporting forces to the Hundred,” T’Salik related. “That sounds like information they’d be interested in containing,” he observed, “rather than reporting.” Thusfar, the uneasy leaders of the Vorta Council had managed to suppress the knowledge that they’d lost all means of contacting – even of finding – the Founders. Keevan and Taenix maintained that knowledge would lead to complete destabilization in the quadrant, wide-scale violence, and dangerous reactions from the Jem’Hadar. It remained a volatile subject that he and his wife wouldn’t even discuss aloud outside a secure facility. T’Salik nodded, almost imperceptibly. “They could hardly avoid it,” she revealed. “The Vorta in question made an official declaration of allegiance over their own network. He even urged several planetary systems to join him through acts of civil disobedience.” His son started to tug against his father’s beard. “Non-violent resistance,” Sorehl summarized, gently extracting Sawyek's fingers from his graying whiskers. “At least Semil is adhering to his promises.” “For the moment,” T’Salik agreed. “It seems equally clear that, if they weren’t threatened by further defections to the Hundred, the Dominion would be disinclined to allow the Scorpiad to avoid reparations for the invasion.” Sorehl bounced the child in his lap. “A tenuous truce,” he mused aloud. “It was our only means of crafting such a swift agreement,” she admitted. “Not ideal, but it has turned their self-interests toward a cessation of hostilities.” “Or at least a lull before the next round,” Sorehl countered. He did not mean to be cynical, but he’d already devoted too much of his intellect toward making war. His wife had played no small part in the loose armistice. Although she had been their prisoner, the Scorpiad considered her their only diplomatic in-road. Ambassador N’Kedre, on the other hand, had built on her rescue of the Vorta Council during the Scorpiad decapitation attack, overcoming the Dominion’s negative feelings toward the Romulan invasion of T’Rogora. With grudging respect from the Hundred, K’Vorlag was still hammering out the details of what might become formal treaties. For their efforts, N’Kedre’s government had all but abandoned the quadrant, K’Vorlag had been promoted to command a dwindling Klingon presence, and T’Salik had been reduced in role by the arrival of more senior ambassadors. An organized pull-out, Sorehl mused inwardly, while they hope for the best. Would the Gamma Quadrant become another languishing Cardassia? By now, T’Salik was looking out at the horizon. “I’m told Excalibur was heavily damaged,” she observed. Sorehl tilted his head toward her, aware that the ship’s extended disappearance had parallels to their daughter’s absence. “Yes,” he agreed. “They’ve been recalled to Starfleet Headquarters.” “They consider the transdimensional issue of that much importance?” she asked. Sorehl shifted his son to the other knee. “No,” he explained, “I suspect there may be some plan as to Excalibur’s role in maintaining this tenuous balance you’ve crafted.” T’Salik considered her husband’s remark. “I see,” she answered tersely. “It would seem we all have new roles to contend with.” “Myself included,” he agreed. “Then… you’re going with them.” It was a statement, rather than a question. With such frequent sharing of minds, he had never kept personal thoughts from her. She knew full well the concerns that had challenged his thoughts. She knew what he’d done in the intervening months to get Excalibur back. She knew about his experience at the wormhole and the call of his other duties in the Alpha Quadrant. “I must pursue it,” he confirmed. “I will talk with Admiral Saylek first, then hear what the elders have to say; I will take no action we have not already considered.” She leaned back, considering. He watched the firelight dance across her delicate features and how it gave a glow to her light hair. They had been together through his years commanding Aegis, their family kept apart only by his brief imprisonment and her later detainment on Betazed during the war. There had been the post-war years at Empok Nor, trying to give the Cardassians a means to rebuild themselves. Then nearly three years laboring together in the Gamma Quadrant. Truly it had been the logical thing to marry her on that same day twenty-eight years ago. Off in the distance, he saw with a pleasure he would not admit, a flickering light beginning to sparkle brightly on the horizon.

For those interested, the Marine contingent closing on the wormhole collar is being joined by the Andor-class missile cruiser USS Thala'And. The ship's crew is almost entirely Andorian, with Captain Sorehl and Ensign Kallah Ramson as notable exceptions. A refurbished model originally launched seventy years ago, this ship is responsible for defending the boarding parties with its impressive array of anti-torpedo interceptors. Thala'And will cover the Marine insertion during the upcoming sim, while the remainder of the fleet regroups. Assuming it survives the holding action, it can offer the returning wave some offensive power by shifting to its significant stores of photon torpedoes, quantum torpedoes, and other special ordnance I'm including a schematic (based on the original FASA design, from which I've heavily leaned):

A joint log with Semil (in green), occuring less than one hour after Yorktown and the remaining fleet left Camelot. The diplomatic area for the Hundred ran the length of one of the six C-Ring spokes which connected the station hub to its outer ring. The formal entrance on Deck 27, limiting access to the extraterritorial area, was flanked by a very visible Jem’Hadar honor guard. Belonging to the smallest, and least organized of the powers on Embassy Row, it was assumed the Hundred Wing utilized only a fraction of the ten decks available to them. Sorehl was surprised to learn this was not the case. Rows and rows of cloning tubes lined the narrow chamber before him, continuing down three decks. Each capsule contained an inert Jem’Hadar soldier suspended in bluish fluid. An army in stasis, he considered. The Vulcan captain had delayed his departure aboard the Andor-class missile cruiser Thala’and at Semil’s insistence. This chamber was among the things Semil had felt it urgent to show him. “1458 soldiers,” Semil explained, “enough to form two battalions.” Sorehl contained his rising concern. “I was unaware you had such numbers aboard the station,” he spoke non-committally. “We began the cloning process in response to the request from Captain Corizon months ago,” the Vorta explained. Sorehl leaned against the railing, confirming Semil’s numbers with his own calculations. “Nevertheless,” he prompted, “I was not advised you were maintaining such a significant onboard reserve.” “For defense of the station,” Semil insisted. “These soldiers are in excess of what we needed to supply our fleet. When I leave with our task force, I intend to turn control of them to Commander Blair. In the unlikely event Camelot itself comes under attack, they can be activated from your Command Center.” Although it was unsettling to leave a Jem’Hadar army aboard the station, Sorehl reasoned that there was little reason for the Hundred to expose it’s existence if it were intended to be used against Camelot. He glanced at Semil, who was looking back at him expectantly. “You see what we’re investing to earn your trust,” the Vorta prompted. Sorehl observed how eagerly this concept was being presented to him. “As I noted before, it is your actions in the coming battle that are apt to be more beneficial,” he noted. “There are those who would dismiss the offer of your soldiers, considering it a resource you find easily expendable.” He stepped closer to one of the capsules, wondering how many times it had been filled with dispensible life. “We’ll make more,” Semil quoted himself. “Yes, I see.” He tilted his head, thinking. “So it falls to us to use them in a way that will most benefit the alliance? I think you’ll see that. We’ve prepared four regiments of transporter shock troops to assist in long-range boarding of poorly-defended targets. You remember I discussed this option with Joy Six and Lieutenant Xenatos.” “Long-range?” “For a location properly tagged with homing transponders, from ranges approaching ten light years,” the Vorta elaborated, clearly pleased with this advanced state of Dominion technology. (See DS9:”Covenant”) “Yes, I recall,” Sorehl acknowledged. “You also mentioned a 50% mortality rate, just for the beam-over.” “Our shock troops know the risks. They are pledged to serve the Hundred.” Sorehl raised an eyebrow. The remark was not as dismissive as he’d expected. “I was not aware the Jem’Hadar could refuse such an order,” he probed. Semil’s voice grew softer. “The Hundred are trying to instill a greater sense of free will amongst their subjects. They desire that we share as great a sense of individuality as they share amongst themselves.” “Individuality?” the captain questioned. This was an aspect he'd suspected, but not confirmed. “I was under the impression the Hundred were joined as one by a New Link.” The Vorta actually smiled. “A curious duality, isn’t it? Their solitary experience seems to separate them from the Founders. Odo was the same way, I’m told.” “It would explain their inability to achieve the kind of equanimity typical of the Dominion,” Sorehl observed. He recalled how two of the shapeshifters had argued about whether they should be attacking the station. The smile faded. “You would do well to avoid such irreverence. If the gods must contend with each other for the fate of our galaxy, it is not ours to question their inscrutable wisdom.” Dispassionately, Sorehl noted the mask had fallen back over the Vorta’s expression. He might have lost the chance for open inquiry with his unintentional slight. As such, it was time to press forward with his duties. “I fail to see,” he challenged, “why you felt it necessary to delay my departure for this.” “Captain, I’ve told you. The Hundred think you’re important to the future of our continued alliance,” Semil explained. “I had to show this to you; gauge your reactions. See if we are building a relationship of trust that can last until the day we must take up arms against the Dominion for our birthright.” Sorehl clasped his hands behind his back, shaking his head. “We have not yet prevailed against the Scorpiad and you already anticipate resuming your civil war.” “The Vorta always plan ahead to the next war,” Semil rationalized. Relentlessly logical, Sorehl admitted. Sensing the revelation was over, he turned to ready his ship for departure. "I believe I've seen enough." But the Vorta didn't seem to agree. “The Dominion may have abandoned you as useless, but through me, the Hundred know Starfleet is a valuable ally,” Semil announced. “You are a perfect example of their resolve. It is with you our hopes lie in convincing the Federation to support us.” “Once again, you overstate my role,” Sorehl countered. "I am a starbase commander with no particular influence. Attempts at flattery are wasted where no ego exists.” Semil stepped toward him. “You forget, captain,” Semil goaded, “I’ve seen what you’re willing to do to preserve your civilization - subsume your own will, sacrifice your own life, kill with your bare hands, unleash weapons of mass destruction. In those months as your jailer, I manufactured enough illusions inside your mind to know how you respond. Tenacity for your ideals will bring you to see the righteousness of our cause.” Sorehl turned away, looking for the exit. “There is little point in wasting time with idle propagan…” he paused, trailing off. Unconsciously, his right eyebrow shot up. Slowly, he turned back toward the Vorta. “You should not be able to recall the details of my imprisonment,” he realized aloud. “Those are memories of an unstable clone.” The upturn of the lips was almost diabolical. “Unlike the Founders, the Hundred did not deem it necessary to withhold those memories from me,” Semil revealed. Unseen, he summoned his Jem’Hadar First. “Don’t worry, captain. I’m not insane. But those memories have given me a sense of what to do with the free will I’ve been given. And you must help the Federation play its part.” Alongside the captain, two Jem’Hadar unshrouded, grabbing his shoulders suddenly. Reacting with unchecked Vulcan strength, Sorehl wrenched one arm free, hurling one of the soldiers up and over the railing. As he twisted to face his other attacker, he felt the back of his knees crumple to the strike of a kar’takin polearm. Two more soldiers stepped out of their shroud, moving to hold him firmly in a kneeling position. “This is hardly the action of a trusted ally,” Sorehl managed, still struggling against his captors. Semil crouched down beside the Vulcan. “You’re right, of course,” he admitted. “I’ll have to make sure you have no recollection of this part of our visit.” He jerked his head in the direction of his First. “Hera’temlan, ready a short-term memory wipe.” He looked back at Sorehl. “Luckily, I already have detailed scans of your mesocortical functions.” He gestured again and the Jem’Hadar lifted the Vulcan to his feet. “I have no reason to harm you, my friend. In fact, I suppose there’s no harm in admitting I’ve taken extra precautions to ensure your safety in this coming battle,” Semil disclosed. “It would be difficult to replace such a valuable inroad to winning our next war.” With typical discipline, Sorehl recognized that rage would gain him nothing, but found it challenging to suppress the rising sense of shame at being caught so unaware. Even now, as the Jem’Hadar dragged him toward a vertical slab, he didn’t know why this was happening. Semil had admitted no great treachery or insidious plot. Was the knowledge that he was in touch with his own imbalanced past sensitive enough to make him hide all that he had just revealed? The fact was disturbing, but hardly damning. It made no sense to cover up, especially at the risk of such violation. Sorehl struggled against the Jem'Hadar grip, despite the futility. What good was logic against insanity?

Quite correct, skipper. Sorehl left the station aboard the Thala'And on time and with no recollection of the latter part of his discussion with Semil -- at least, not now... :::reserving a future plot point, if needed:::

General Statistics Name: Sorehl Species : Vulcan Gender : male Age : 74 (born 2312) Height : 177.80 cm (5 ft. 10 in.) Weight : 68.04 kg (160 lbs.) Eye Color : blue Hair Color : black, greying at temples Skin Color : caucasian Place of Birth : Gol'shiVahr Arcology, Yhri Province, Vulcan Features: full beard Bloodtype : T negative (rare) Educational Background - Vulcan Institute of Technology: primary degree in systems engineering, secondary degree in aerospace, fieldwork in political science and administrative theory; StarFleet Academy: engineering, thesis in tactical systems analysis, minor in interstellar relations; Post-Academy training: starbase operations and logistics, command certification. Personal Background - Sorehl has been bonded for the past thirty years to Ambassador T'Salik, who currently serves as Federation Envoy-General to the Scorpiad Empire. He and his wife have four daughters, T'Kel (age 15), T'Ael (12), T'Jen (age 9), and T'Riel (age 1) as well as one son, Sawyek (age 3). Sorehl has personal history with several officers, including former Excalibur captain Vixis, Governor K'Vorlag of Klingon Intelligence, and Captain Thomas Halloway of the USS Yorktown. Sorehl served with the parents of Ensign Kallah Ramson, who were his second officer and chief medical officer at Starbase Aegis. His diplomatic contacts include ambassadors Drankum of Ferenginar, shiKatsu Raumuk of Andor, Joy Two of Mudd, and the Vorta Semil. Over the course of three years in the Gamma Quadrant, he formed an advisory relationship to Excalibur captain Ah-Windu Corizon. Career History - Prior to age fifty, Sorehl was involved in technical work as a civilian with Shuvinaljis Warp Technologies, Wilson Energies, and Chandley Works Ltd, notably during modernization of the Galactic Positioning System. As a contractor, he aided development of anti-torpedo systems now employed on Nebula- and Andor-class starships. He also supported the development of quantum payloads, phaser collimaters, tri-cobalt torpedoes, and interphase technology. Choosing to join StarFleet after the Federation's first contact with the Borg, he applied his engineering skills toward starship design and tactical system integration at Utopia Planitia, working on the Defiant project alongside then-Lieutenant Commander Benjamin Sisko. Sorehl was given his first starship posting aboard the Excalibur-A in 2370. (This was his only starship posting prior to achieving command.) His tactical engineering background lent itself to operations, from which he was posted to the newly deployed StarBase Aegis in the Canar system. After serving as chief science officer, then executive officer, he rose to command of Aegis after the loss of its captain during the pre-emptive strike which opened the Dominion War. From that vantage point, he supported strategic fleet operations along that border. He briefly commanded the Excalibur-A during successful liberation of the Decelea asteroid field. Following the war, the Canar colony gained formal status as a Federation protectorate and the station was redesignated SB405. Sorehl assumed the role of territorial governor for Allied occupation forces at the Empok Nor space station. He continued with this posting until the formal transition of that facility to Cardassian control three years later. He oversaw construction and commanded Camelot Station in the Avalon system, during its Gamma Quadrant assembly. In this capacity, he directed fleet maintenance, coordinated with Romulan and Klingon ambassadors, served as a Dominion advisor, and planned strategic operations defending against incursions by Hundred and Scorpiad forces. In the peace following the Battle of the Wormhole, Sorehl stepped down from command and entered reserve status. He briefly served as Special Commissioner to the Federation Security Council, submitting a report which recommended the end of Aegis' mission at Cardassia. He has since remained a civilian living on Avalon Base, working as a correspondent and advocate of several races in the Gamma Quadrant. Service Record Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards, shakedown specialist (2365) Maximus II Weapons Testing Range, tactical testing (2368) USS Excalibur, tactical systems engineer (2370) StarBase Aegis, mission operations (2370) StarBase Aegis, chief science officer (2371) StarBase Aegis, executive officer (2373) StarBase Aegis, commanding officer (2374) Empok Nor, Federation occupational governor (2377) Camelot Station, commanding officer (2380) StarFleet Reserve, captain (2383 - present) Notable Career Incidents Rescued Maquis survivors of Dominion attacks near McAllister nebula. Endured psychological torture as Dominion prisoner of war for three months. Commanded starship Excalibur during liberation of Decelea system. Established Ferengi trade mission with Ambassador Drankum at Canar II. Recognized for aiding defection of the Cardassian 12th Brigade at Sarpedion V. Commanded Sky Harbor Aegis during first year of Cardassian occupation. Directed restoration of Cardassian station Empok Nor to operational status. Director of assembly for Camelot Station in the Avalon system, Gamma Quadrant. Successfully commanded mission to liberate diplomats from Scorpiad fleet. Commanded defense of Marine landing and capture of Scorpiad wormhole collar. Special Commissioner to the Federation Security Council Medical History - Although he has endured the usual series of space-borne illnesses and alien viruses, Sorehl has no known medical issues. A testament to Federation medical science, he has survived attacks from carnivorous insect swarms, severe plasma burns, radiation poisoning, turboshaft falls, Jem’Hadar combat, and an assassination attempt. He bears a distinctive tattoo on his lower right back, the result of a first contact mission with the Ovetra culture. Psychological Profile – Sorehl has the calm, dedicated demeanor of a typical Vulcan. Although his own actions are supported by logic, he makes allowances for the emotionalism of others. He demonstrates strong loyalty to those he serves and has been surprised to inspire it from unlikely sources. He is intolerant of needless violence, disrespect for StarFleet principles, and general prejudice. Miscellaneous - Sorehl has a developed interest in strategy games (kaltoh, chess, komerex, and kotra) and has been known to play an occasional game of racquetball. He has spent nearly fifty years studying various Vulcan mind sciences under the mentorship of the Y'hri discipline. He has managed to develop good working relationships with Klingon officers, having studied their language, culture, and defensive arts. Sorehl considers himself a technocrat, an engineer constrained into leadership roles, although he has proven an able diplomat with the Cardassian government. His associations have exposed him to Klingon, Ferengi, and Vorta psychologies, and provided extensive understanding of Dominion tactics and Cardassian politics. The Romulan psyche, he has admitted, continues to elude him. He has avoided starship assignments, prefering duties that allow his wife and children to live close to him. Medals, Awards, and Decorations Distinguished Service Cluster, POW Ribbon, Order of Excellence, Crimson Shield (w/ 8 flourishes) Scorpiad Conflict, Dominion Campaign, Cardassian DMZ, Cardassia Prime, Torros II Gamma Quadrant, Cardassian Relief, Starbase Administration, Command Cluster

Sorehl's bio has been updated to reflect recent events.

Below the surface of Avalon... Confusion. Brightness. Cold. An instinctive response to alarm filled the dimly-lit cavern with sound, a plaintive cry echoing with the empty chamber. Cupping the wriggling, fragile package along his forearm, Sorehl sensed the unspoiled purity of the newborn intellect through his fingertips as easily as he felt the warmth and softness against his skin. This inner slate was clear as the face of a wind-swept dune, untrod by the caravans of other’s experiences. My son, Sorehl affirmed, brushing gently against the disoriented mind. It was not language; it was too early for even images-yet-unseen, but a projection of belonging, a sense of familiarity to comfort the abrupt arrival. The Vulcan swaddled the baby within dark folds of fabric, carefully wiping away traces of dark green from the tiny face. With measured steps, he moved to present the child to its weary mother, glancing toward another figure within the cave. Jeralla Ramson nodded slightly, glancing up from the medical scanner that monitored the health of mother and child. With that gesture, the young Cardassian attaché quietly confirmed that all was well. While the birthing chamber on Avalon had been arrayed in accordance with ancient Vulcan practice, there had been no logic in ignoring suitable precautions. Dr. K’hal had procured the appropriate equipment. Dr. Kassem remained on call to address unforeseen complications. And above them all in the Camelot Command Center, Commander Blair maintained a transporter lock to allow the parties to be whisked away to the safety of the medical complex. Gently, Sorehl lowered the infant so T’Salik could see him. As he watched, she brushed her own fingers against the boy’s temple. During the silent exchange, he wondered what the future would bring to his son, as well as the reverse. Let the heavens rage away in their battle for the Quadrant, he considered. New life and new civilization were emerging at Avalon.

As the grains shifted in the Vulcan sandscape behind him, Sorehl continued reading the report from Joy Five. As expected, the android had done a thorough job of exploring the ramifications of intelligence gleaned from the Shallia. Tactical and propulsion technologies which exploited an expanded continuum concept would explain much about Scorpiad effectiveness against them. Understanding this paradigm would be key to developing functional countermeasures. Sorehl remembered the frentic pace at Utopia Planitia, in those months after first contact with the Borg, trying to anticipate and defend against a potential offensive. After decades in astronautics, it had been the impedus for actually becoming a member of Starfleet himself – his background and existing degrees offering him an immediate chance to be useful. In the end, they’d still been caught unprepared. He did not desire a repeat of that experience. He returned to his reading. “... the Federation was once well on the way to developing the Scorpiad ability to phase ships into adjacent realities. The project was abandoned to honor treaty requirements, but if we have any documentation, engineers or scientists associated with Pegasus, they would be most useful in understanding Zie's data and working the shield tuning project.” Sorehl glanced out the viewport, setting the PADD on his desk. With the relocation of the station, the upper decks no longer offered a vantage of the bluish-grey mists of Avalon. The Command Center of Camelot Station pointed away from the planet to allow better transporter contact, shield coverage, and energy transfer between the Engineering Ring and the colony below. Instead, the more distant, light brown disc of its trojan partner Tintagel was visible from his office windows. The Vulcan mused, but not serenely, on reference to the Pegasus project. In 2355, after failing to secure a subspace research position with the Galaxy-class Theoretical Propulsion Group, he had opted to leave Shuvinaljis Warp Technologies for Wilson Energies, where he began supporting the test of tactical prototypes on the Oberth-class USS Pegasus and USS Perseus. In addition to his work on phaser collimation and tri-cobalt warheads, he’d been a subsystem consultant on what became the interphase cloaking device. Though he shared no complicity, he was not eager to disclose his personal involvement in this research. Essentially a molecular phaser inverter coupled with rudimentary cloaking capability, the project encountered huge challenges - chronition particle flooding, phase instabilities, adverse subspace field interactions, and continuous run time issues. It also had the dubious distinct of being, under most interpretations, a forbidden area of research. Starfleet Intelligence had covertly urged phase cloak development by insisting that the restrictions of the 2311 Treaty of Algeron applied only to fielded, operational units – not theoretical development. In any case, the loss of the starship Pegasus during a field test in 2358 seemed to signal the end of such efforts. Indeed, after similar accidents, the Klingons abandoned their own research the following decade. The Romulans, undeterred by treaty, conducted an unsuccessful test as late as 2368. With many terms of the 2311 Treaty, including the Neutral Zone itself, abrogated by the Dominion War, none of the Allied powers had yet openly revisited the development and use of phase cloak technology. Unlike the multi-lateral agreement banning subspace weapons, expressly forbidden by the Second Khitomer Accords, there was precedent for suspending clauses of the Treaty of Algeron by mutual agreement between the Romulan and Federation governments. In fact, it was logical to assume the Romulans held the most recent experimentation data. In all liklihood, they should be approached about the option. He wondered, were they about to engage in another shift in Alpha Quadrant politics?

Swapout of Excalibur’s damaged flow regulator had been an expectedly lengthy and intricate process; as will most subsystem refurbishments, the challenge was to identify all the affected hardware for removal. Sorehl had observed that Lieutenant Tr’Lorin, despite admitting it was his first such swapout of a starship-sized plasma constriction device, had done a by-the-book extrication and re-installation. Aside from monitoring the bleed-off of toxic coolant, it had been unnecessary for the Vulcan to offer any additional support. Having completed that primary task, Sorehl left the warp specialists to their work, opting to accelerate repairs on the tactical systems. The ship would soon be underway and would need defensive capability. Admiran had obligingly assigned him to retune and balance the portside phaser coupling. The task had the dual benefit of being one of his specialties and of letting him work individually, where his rank wouldn’t disturb other team members. Although engineers were often able to ignore such distinctions, Sorehl had observed some reluctant to direct or offer suggestions to a senior officer – especially one not from among their crew. Though he had no ego to bruise, he understood their misgivings. Sorehl shifted on one shoulder, shuffling down the narrow access tunnel towards the EPS manifold. Such isolation was another thing he could blame on the Dominion, he mused, flipping a phase inducer in one hand. Had it not been for the loss of his commanding officer at the Battle of Torros III, he recalled, he would have never accepted promotion beyond Commander. The war itself had ushered him into permanent circles of strategic decision-making, diplomacy, and politics. Engineering and science had been the exception, rather than the rule, of his subsequent career. He questioned whether his elevation to such echelons was truly in the best interest of the Federation. The recent mission aboard Reliant reinforced this question. Once their carefully-crafted attempt to retrieve Ambassador T’Salik and the Vorta Eris had been exposed, he had correctly reasoned that they could not risk Admiral Day, the ship, and its crew in a vain attack against a superior enemy force. True to logic, he had decided to abandon the Ambassador. Even when the Scorpiad had surprised them by offering to trade her for Sorehl, it was his command rank that had prevented the exchange. Although the Scorpiad had claimed they wanted to exact retribution against the destroyer of one of their ships, the Vulcan carried too much tactical intelligence and knowledge of classified defenses to be handed over for certain interrogation. Were it not for the intervention of the shapeshifter, putting himself in significant danger, the rescue would have surely failed. He chided himself for the self-indulgent introspection, noting the groan of the induction coil as he tightened the EPS contacts. He eased off to keep from snapping the fibers. Engineering had satisfying checklists, procedures, and protocols. There were challenges demanding elegant, often immediate, design solutions. Invent and create. Repair and construct. Augment and optimize. An appealing rigor, he noted. He slid out from the access tunnel, checking the phasing against specification. There was an even sharper imbalance near the plasma tap. He adjusted the inducer and stooped, pulling himself back in. There was a certain parallelism, he realized, in being an intellect out-of-phase with his own inclinations. He pulled back his sleeves, resolved to confront one challenge at a time.

“You’re not even going to stay?” Commander Blair exclaimed onscreen, exaggerating his surprise. “But I made a Bundt cake!” Sorehl passed over the comment as yet another example of his executive officer’s “overabundance of personality” – something command school had failed to drum out of him. “The admiral has ordered a six-hour turnaround for Reliant, in the event we need to intercept Excalibur.” The image of Blair folded his arms. “We can be ready for that,” he promised. “What is the status of our respective fleets?” Sorehl asked. “Do we have anything in the general vicinity?” Blair frowned a little, looking offscreen. “Sprint,” he called out, “what’ve we got near Excalibur’s last known position?” There was the slightest of pauses while a tactical display went up behind him. Sorehl keyed a button on his armrest, changing to share the overlay of their assets scattered in this part of the quadrant. “The Romulans aren’t broadcasting their transponders in real-time, but they’ve got a D’Rrent-class destroyer within thirty light-years,” Blair reported, “and the IKS DuQwi’jej’ is shadowing an Al-Ucard ship two systems away.” Sorehl leaned back in the center chair, considering. “See if you can raise either ship,” he advised. “If they respond and can break off their missions, request they reroute. In any event, Reliant will take on supplies at Camelot and be underway.” “Will do,” Blair nodded, “and I’ll have some of the cake wrapped up.” Sorehl blinked. “Reliant out.” From his position at helm, Lieutenant Gabriel “Buzz” Zorn swiveled around. “We’ll enter the Avalon system,” he reported, “in 48 minutes at present speed.” Although Zorn looked weakened from his encounter with an Eritan weapon, he’d been cleared for duty by Dr. Kassem. “It’ll be good to be home,” he added, “even for a little while.” Sorehl mused briefly, wondering if it was the structure, the culture, or the people that made the lieutenant consider Camelot ‘home’. Another voice from aft offered its own perspective. “Well, I, for one, intend to make it a somewhat longer stay,” Semil announced. The captain turned a wary eye toward the Hundred’s agent, constraining himself from wincing. “No offense intended,” the Vorta added soothingly, “but the station offers, shall we say, less restrictive confines for conducting business.” He smiled thinly. “I do hope your people have finished our new diplomatic suites on the C-Ring.” With Semil’s surprise announcement that he served the Hundred, not the Founders, it had been necessary to deny him access to the Dominion Wing. Establishing an independent section of the station for the Hundred had been a necessary concession. “As a token of our new partnership, I hope you’ll attend our formal dedication.” Sorehl looked away. “It is unlikely,” he admitted. “I must attend to matters at the colony on Avalon.” Semil tilted his head, as if acknowledging an already known fact. “Well, it’s a shorter trip now,” he noted. As part of defensive preparations, Camelot had been moved from its former position at the LeGrange point between Avalon and Tintagel to a geo-stationary orbit at the same longitude as the colony; travel time had been reduced from a fifteen-minute shuttle trip to a mere transport beam away. “Perhaps you can be back in time to confer with us before your departure,” the Vorta prompted. “Perhaps,” Sorehl replied, non-committally. He intended to verify the colony’s safety firsthand. Still, he realized, if a visit to their embassy would encourage the Vorta and the shapeshifter to remain at Camelot, it would be time well spent. Allies or not, the next mission would go smoother with fewer security and diplomatic concerns. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt. Even a Vulcan had to suffer indignities now and then.

Since we're soliciting opinions, I thought I'd add my totally conjectural thoughts and note a couple post-war plot events. I agree with NDak that they must have been involved in the peace process. But I think post-war agreement would have been independent for each party. My logic follows: Although the Cardies switched sides before the end, they would still have needed to formalize some kind of post-war agreement - I imagine renouncing their membership in the Dominion, abandoning ill-gotten territory, and accepting occupation and rebuilding forces (thus, Sky Harbor Aegis' role was born). There may have been other terms like no wormhole transit for a number of specified years, a limit in military force, and forbidding contact with Dominion representatives...et cetera. Although certainly not canon, I like the tone of the "Act of Military Surrender" posted at: http://www.st-minutiae.com/academy/history...urrenderc.xhtml The Dominion would almost certainly have been required to renounce all claims in the Alpha Quadrant, including their alliance with Cardassia and the Breen. They'd have had to withdraw all forces through the wormhole and probably agreed to stay on that side. There may have been reparations and the female Founder who led the war seems to have stayed as a prisoner. Their Gamma Quadrant power was undiminished. But what did the Breen have to do? For plot openings only, I imagined the Breen less inclined to make such concessions. By war's end, their forces were still strong, even if weak compared to an undivided Allied one. Although I've seen a similar treaty example at http://www.st-minutiae.com/academy/history...urrenderd.xhtml, I break with this one in believing the Breen would have grudgingly signed a cease fire, but stopped short of a peace treaty (not unlike the Korean Conflict). Aegis had a subplot where Breen "privateers" attacked a Cardassian freighter near the Badlands and were hunted by the Yorktown. (They got away.) Part of that storyline established that such pirates have flourished since the war, although the Breen claim they are renegades. Reflecting on DS9 and Aegis-related history of the Breen (and as someone unassociated with the currently unfolding plot), I think they'd be a distinct possibility. Note: Amended the above text. I found images showing the Breen present at the treaty signing, but still looking for one with Cardassians. I also added links to some sample surrender documents.

This log takes place in the scant seconds after the cliffhanger of last week's sim... He was not a starship commander. Granted, he was a captain. He could not deny that experience in the complexities of starbase operations lent itself well to the multi-tasking needed to manage a bridge during a crisis. But the circumstances were different. In short, a starship moved. At a starbase, problems were often endemic to a region or arrived unsolicited. With a starship, as Captain Halloway often remarked, one could kick in the warp drive and move on. Those same engines could also drive one headlong into danger. As it was now. Excalibur was moments from overtaking the errant Scorpiad fighter. The Admiral was onhand, but had left the center chair curiously vacant, opting to let Sorehl steer the action of his crew. They had performed admirably. Lieutenant Craven had restricted the fighter’s probable path and managed to lock onto a signal emanating from the craft. Gravimetric charges were loaded in the forward tubes. Ensign Ramson was standing by in the modified fighter, ready to launch in aid of the intercept. Lieutenant Laarell was guiding Excalibur in for a sweeping pass of the now-stationary target. Unfortunately, the science team had been unable to provide biological samples from the damaged lab, which might have proven useful in the coming encounter. There were only moments to go. It was not clear why the Scorpiad fighter had emerged from subspace before reaching the wormhole. Perhaps it had scanned their pursuit, concerned about bringing an unknown toward their fleet position. It had increased their chance of recovering the missing crewmen. Had the Scorpiad craft continued on its previous course, Sorehl would have advised that they break off. With the dispassion of logic, it was clear they should not risk the ship for four officers, however valuable. Their resources in the Gamma Quadrant were now too limited to waste in a vain demonstration of loyalty. Emotions aside, dedicated officers would understand being left to their fate. But it would not come to that. The question now was how to disable or destroy the Scorpiad craft without killing their own people. Basically the same problem he’d been wrestling for three weeks. The answer had taken on a new urgency. “Shields up,” he ordered, without inflection. Whether the Scorpiad intended it or not, they were about to see just what one ship’s moving could do.

The following is joint log by Laarell, K'Vorlag, and myself, which occurs at the conclusion of last sim, concurrent with the escape of the Scorpiad fighter... “I believe the Scorpiad are seeking an orb,” the Klingon governor claimed. Captain Sorehl looked toward Laarell, whom he had just introduced to the secured lower decks of Camelot Station, then back toward the static-filled image onscreen. It would seem K’Vorlag had drawn on his background in Intelligence to tap into a frequency previously used by the Federation ATAG beacon at New Bajor. His report on conditions at the Bajoran colony was the first update in weeks. The Orion turned her head curiously, not certain that she had understood K'Vorlag entirely correctly. Orbs, she wondered, as in the Bajorans' orbs? She might even call the prospect fascinating. “I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Sorehl admitted. “The Scorpiad fleet is holding steady near the asteroid field between the sixth and seventh planets,” he began. Several weeks ago, K’Vorlag and his scoutship had infiltrated the New Bajor system under cloak to learn more about the Scorpiad attack. His last report had revealed the colony was, contrary to previous Romulan transmissions, relatively unmolested. Aside from orbital bombardment in outlying regions and the loss of all space-based assets, the Scorpiad had almost ignored them. Their ships had been holding position, attacking only incoming and outgoing craft. The screen fizzled, prompting Laarell to adjust the gain. She keyed into the power controls, readjusting them to boost the communications. Odd, in a way, to be adjusting the power flows to Top Secret Installation Numero Uno the same way you would take a holodeck offline. “Their position is of no tactical significance,” the Klingon continued as the picture cleared, “but they seem to be looking for something out there.” He glanced aside, as if uncertain about his next statement. “There is something of a legend among the Bajorans about how this system was chosen as their first colony in the Gamma Quadrant.” Sorehl straightened, suppressing his skepticism at the word 'legend'. “Go on,” he proffered. “A vedek joined the colony ship, claiming an orb vision would direct him. When the Bajorans surveyed this system, he claimed it was foreordained for them,” K’Vorlag explained. “Blessed and made pure by a single tear of the Prophets.” Sorehl had heard a similar story before. The Bajoran colonists on Sarejvante claimed that thousands of years earlier, they had followed an orb floating through space – a ‘miraculous director’ that had led them through the Badlands to the well-hidden colony. “But none of the orbs is missing,” the captain countered. “The Cardassians returned the last as part of the peace treaty.” “The last known orb,” K’Vorlag corrected. “In the years that followed, the vedek believed they were protected by another, unseen.” “Do we have some record of this?” Laarell asked, skeptical herself. "After all, such a story would be well-documented, would it not?" “We can’t ask him. Vedek Jarid died fighting the Jem’Hadar when they wiped out the colony eight years ago. His writings were destroyed, as well. It seems this missing orb didn’t protect them very well.” He barked at his own joke. “I fail to see how this connects to the Scorpiad,” Sorehl admitted. “The asteroids surrounding the system float through a weakly-charged plasma field,” K’Vorlag added. "Like the Donorias belt," Laarell noted, raising an eyebrow, "where the original orbs were found, near Bajor." “And the Scorpiad are looking for something out there,” the Klingon responded. Sorehl stepped back, turning away. “Your logic is specious,” he challenged. “The Scorpiad have no prior knowledge of the Bajorans. We have no reason to suspect they hunt an orb based on modern folklore.” The Klingon onscreen scowled, folding his arms. “Typical Vulcan. You have it backward again,” he taunted. “The Scorpiad prove there must be something out there. And I’m going to find out what. K’Vorlag out.” The signal cut off abruptly. “He seems rather sure of himself, even for a Klingon,” Laarell observed. Sorehl nodded. “It is one of his defining characteristics.” He turned back toward the console. “I shall have to advise the admiral, but first, I should transfer paramaters of the Argus II array to your post…” “Command Center to Captain Sorehl,” came the voice of Lieutenant Commander Sprint. Interestingly, Laarell observed, the Vulcan captain did not hit his commbadge in response. Instead, he thumbed a control panel on the wall. “This is Sorehl,” he answered. “Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you, but Excalibur has just gone to alert,” Sprint reported. Sorehl glanced toward Laarell as she instinctively got to her feet, an expression piqued by curiosity and worry crossing her face. He pressed the button again. "Do we know the cause?" he asked. “No, sir, I’m not getting a response,” Sprint replied. Sorehl nodded to the Orion operations officer. Her intention to get over to her ship and to her post was more than evident. “Keep trying, Corris,” he ordered. “Advise me when you get something. Sorehl out.” He let go of the button. “Computer, restore this lift to service and enable umbilical passthrough to Excalibur.” Laarell took a few steps towards the turbolift, waiting for Sorehl before entering. "I must say that I appreciate Starfleet's trust to reveal this kind of and installation -- and intel -- to me. But I must say... it does boggle the mind to have this kind of a revelation..." Just when you think you're beginning to have your job figured out...

What a great log series... keep it up!

The following is a joint log recounting the conversation between Sorehl and Corizon in the Excalbur conference room during the last sim, addressing the subspace weapon. Corizon walked toward the conference room just aft of the Excalibur bridge, with Sorehl a few paces behind. He assumed it must be important if the starbase commander was requesting a private meeting with him. The Vulcan didn’t even wait till they got there. “Captain,” he began, “I noted that your plans after arriving at the Expanse are somewhat... non-specific in your report." Ah-Windu stepped through the doors as the opened, then gestured toward the conference table. He cleared his throat. “Non-specific?” he asked, non-committally. Sorehl regarding him briefly, then phrased his statement again. “It lacks a description of your tactical plan for drawing in and overpowering a Scorpiad ship, referring only to…” he glanced aside, as if accessing the text from some invisible display, “a weapon under development.” He looked back. The response was quick. “It involves classified material." Sorehl blinked. “Yes, classified material,” he repeated. “That would be the non-specific part.” Corizon considered briefly, weighing his next statement for only a moment, then presented it matter-of-factly, almost bluntly. “It's a subspace weapon.” The Vulcan stared evenly in response. For a moment, it actually seemed he did not know what to say next. He tilted his head slightly, “I beg your pardon, Captain?" “You did want to know, I assume?" he replied, turning toward the viewport. Senior officers hated to be left out of secrets; Corizon hoped he’d just avoided a drawn-out demand for information. Sorehl glanced toward the conference door, as if to verify that it was closed. “I may not be nuanced in the intricacies of humor, but I don't believe that constitutes funny, Captain." The Excalibur executive officer turned around sternly. “It wasn't supposed to be.” “Forgive my ignorance,” the Vulcan countered, “but it would be logical to assume you must be joking. Subspace weapons are expressly prohibited by the Second Khitomer Accords…” “That’s correct,” he interrupted. Corizon knew where this was going. His conversation with Craven was still fresh in his mind. Sorehl continued, “...because they represent an unstable, unpredictable effect on subspace." Ah-Windu felt fatigue and irritation at the base of his ears. “That's also correct,” he practically sighed. The Vulcan allowed a raised eyebrow to express his reaction. “On what basis do you presume to violate interstellar law and signed agreements?” “Under order of the Federation Security Council,” Corizon explained again, “I am empowered to take whatever action I feel is required to protect the Alpha Quadrant." His ears were cocked back and he heard the smooth, solid sound of his steady voice. “And I am willing to do whatever I must to carry out that directive, Captain." Sorehl regarded the Daemon for a moment, clear evidence of calculation behind his eyes. “Whatever you feel is required?” The emphasis on the third word betrayed his concern. Corizon nodded. “The plan is fairly simply…” But the starbase commander no longer seemed interested in the plan. “By what logic do you destroy the Alpla Quadrant in order to save it?” Ah-Windu continued, as if uninterrupted. “Inside the expanse, Merlin will behave as a lightning rod for the gravitational wells.” “Merlin,” Sorehl repeated flatly. “Your clever moniker for the violation of treaty?” Corizon was in no mood to be baited. “ATAG’s, actually,” he answered, invoking the name of the little-known organization he’d worked for. “In theory, it will cause a gravitiation well to form around the Scorpiad ship, trapping it..." The Vulcan raised his index finger, as if to point something out. “In theory?” he challenged. “That is precisely the problem with subspace weapons. Theory and prediction tend not to hold.” “It has been tested, Captain,” Corizon offered. Sorehl was well aware of subspace weaponry testing that had occurred before the ban. He wondered if the Daemon was aware of the disastrous failures that had prompted the moratorium signed by seven Alpha Quadrant powers. Casually, he wondered if this plan was being hidden from the Klingons and Romulans, two of those signatories. Even their approval would not absolve the restriction. “Captain,” he urged, stepping closer, “the Expanse has its own unique and dangerous subspace properties." “I'm aware...” Corizon answered dismissively. His expression softened before he added, “The authorization is actually to interdict the wormhole.” Sorehl could not constrain the arch of his eyebrow. “The wormhole is Bajoran territory and of deep religious significance to them. Have we even advised them?” “No,” Corizon answered bluntly. “The safety of the Quadrant...” he trailed off. Sorehl stood beside him, looking out the viewport as well. “This would seem to be a sandstorm that won’t stay in the urn,” he noted, citing the Vulcan idiom. Corizon felt his guard go down as he sighed loudly. “Frankly, captain, I am at a loss for ideas. We need to retake the wormhole, but the only way to do that is to find out more information about not only what they're doing, but about the Scorpiads themselves." The Vulcan clasped his hands behind his back. “I understand your dilemna,” he admitted. “I have been a weapons developer in the past, as well. But we should not limit our options.” He paused. “Nor should we commit ourselves to actions that cannot be retracted. I caution you, captain, not to move so certainly on use of a subspace weapon." “If you have a better way to capture a Scorpiad Ship,” the Excalibur exec pressed, “I welcome it.” Sorehl continued to look out the viewport, past the Camelot umbilical connect and toward the Idran system. “I have no doubt of the superiority of your tactical planning,” he conceded, “but it may be time to solicit other ideas from our capable staffs. There are always possibilities.” Corizon glanced toward the Vulcan. “As I said, present me with a better solution, and I will gladly consider it." The other captain rounded on him this time. “With all due respect, captain,” his tone firmer that before, “a little less of the secret planning would do well to invite suggestions." Corizon shook his head. “Old habits die hard.” He looked out toward where Sorehl had been gazing just moments before. “What good is it to protect the Federation, if we destroy the values it stands for in the proccess?" Sorehl noted the words had mirrored his own thoughts. “A valid concern,” he agreed. “I fully concur with your efforts, but I do not believe matters are desperate enough to warrant such escalation.” His thoughts turned to the biological agent the Federation had aimed at the Founders – a turning point in the war. Sorehl remembered that, in an illusory reality forced on him by Semil, he had imagined sanctioning the use of protomatter torpedoes against Cardassian colonies. Neither thought deterred his resolve. “Let me try,” he offered, “to present other options.” Corizon narrowed his eyes. Whether in anger or skepticism, Sorehl could not tell. “Go on, then,” he directed. “You don’t have much time.”