NDak

I'd also like to point out that it's ch'Rihan! Na what ever that lloann'na word is! :(

The sun rose over the deep cobalt oceanic horizon of Avalon, Ambassador t'Sevik N'Kedre let the sun warm her face as he placed the cup of hot tea on the railing of the deck she stood upon. The salt of the sea met her face along with the sun and she smiled slightly. She'd seen the sunrise on a dozen worlds in her lifetime, and with the exception of her homeworld, the sunrise on Avalon was certainly one of her favorites. Letting her eyes wander, she took in the panorama. The Romulan colony on Avalon grew steadily each day in spite of the many forces conspiring against its very existence. N'Kedre relished that despite the Hundred, the Dominion, and the Scorpiads best efforts, that Alpha Quadrant had been transplanted into the Gamma Quadrant successfully and that life on Avalon flourished. The Romulan colony had been particularly successful, thanks in no small part to Administrator N'Rycus. As one of the colonists had said, it was if S'Task himself had founded the colony. Indeed, the colonists had taken to calling it Aihsa-i'Ramnau (The New Home of the Sundered). She wondered though if that was a result of homesickness more than awe of the new colony. While she'd spent most of her adult life away from the homeworld, most of the colonists and even the young officers aboard the warships that had came to 'protect' the colony had never been isolated from their home. As she watched the colony stir to life in early morning, her heart felt for them and for her self. She had started to realize how painful the isolation was beginning to become for everyone involved. She had not spoken with either of her sons in months. She had not spoken to either of her daughters in months. She had not spoken with her bond mate in months. Elements knew what trouble they'd gotten themselves into in her absences. But what could be done? The wormhole, the one link to home was inaccessible, and the Scorpiads iron grip upon it wasn't loosening anytime soon. The Dominion was faltering under her own weight. And all around her, darkness was stirring. Perhaps that's why she'd retreated to Avalon. It certainly wasn't because the colony need her skills. Here, the gloom of the world seemed faraway. The sunny skies and placid days were refuge from the darkness and death. A sigh escaped her thin lips. Escapism. “Good morning Ambassador,” her aide, tr'Klae, said taking her by surprise. Startled momentarily she finally smirked. “I have told au about sneaking up on me.” “Ie, au have,” he said apologetically. “Tomorrow I will wait till au are na longer gazing at the sunrise to bring aur schedule to au.” “Na au will na.” Klae lifted an eyebrow slightly. “Ie?” “Tomorrow we will be aboard Camelot Station, there will na be a sunrise upon the deck to watch.” Klae sorted and parsed the information before speaking. “I see. If we are to be leaving for the station today, au must excuse me. I have much to attend to before we can.” “Of course, tr'Klae. Return when we are ready to depart. And arrange for me a meeting with Captain Sorehl.” “As au wish.”

You mean like this:

Updated and Edited.

Destorie glanced at the screen, and the twirling t’Liss on it. He’d turned off his own communicator and had locked himself away in a small lab, not telling anyone where he was going. The screen flashed, darkened and finally raised a prompt for security clearance. He typed his access codes, and after a few moments the interface loaded a secure communications network. Taking care to cover his tracks as he went, Destorie sifted through a few nets before finding what he was looking for. Shortly, another prompt for his security clearance appeared. Taking a deep breath he typed in his clearance codes. As much as he didn’t want to do what he was about to do, he knew it was a sure way to find out what was going on, or at the least find out where certain loyalties lay. The screen darkened again and a twirling symbol appeared once more—though this time it was not of the standard t’Liss. After a few moments, a female Romulan appeared on the screen; her features were sharp and defining, much like Destorie’s. In fact, they were almost exactly like Destorie’s. “Now this is something I didn’t quite expect…” her voice lacked warmth, but it wasn’t completely unfriendly. “I am sure you didn’t, t’Savu,” Destorie said, his own voice neutral. “You must be in some fairly deep trouble if your calling me,” she said with a lazy smile, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t confuse me with Issaha,” his voice sharpened. “Oh,” she said leaning back towards the screen, propping herself on her elbows. “Is he the one in trouble?” “That’s a stupid question.” “Right,” she said, as if reminding herself mentally. “He’s always in trouble. But that’s not why you called me—he couldn’t get himself in enough trouble that you’d risk contacting me…or want to for that matter.” “I am surprised at your ability to reason all that out.” “Well,” she said feigning exasperation, “Why else would you call me? I mean, you haven’t bothered to even speak to me in what five? Six years? You didn’t even contact me when you were going through that whole ‘Squid Incident.’” Destorie shuttered visibly at the mention of the Squids. “I suppose you have a point.” “Of course I do idiot.” “Jol-au too.” “Why don’t you just tell me why you called before we end up hanging up on each other in a fit of rage—I doubt you can secure a communication with me twice in one day?” She always had to be right, didn’t she? Destorie took a deep breath and composed himself before speaking. “I want to know what you know about a plot to assassinate me.” “So you are in trouble,” she quipped. “Ie,” he mumbled lower. “Hmm so someio wants big brother yy’a…imagine that.” “Can we act like adults?” The younger N’Dak smirked slightly before responding, taking her time just to annoy her older brother; who’d finally been reduced to seeking her help…oh how the mighty had fallen. “What makes au think I know anything about a plot to assassinate au?” “Because it stinks of the Tal’Shiar?” “Now now, name calling is not going to get you any of little sister’s highly useful information.” “I hate you.” “Ditto.” The two simply stared across the view screens at each other for a few moments, as if trying to will the other’s head to explode in a brilliant and bloody green boom. Fortunately, they did not possess telekinesis. Finally, t’Savu broke the silence. “But you are still my brother.” “Ie,” Destorie said between his teeth. “And au my sister.” “I will tell au only what I know,” she said. “Au life is endanger…but from who I do na know. I suspect a friend of fathers’ but other than that…I do na know anything else, or even why they would want au dead…it’s not like they know au.” Destorie nodded, ignoring the obvious attempt to rile him. “Then au have confirmed my suspicions.” “However I can na tell au anymore,” she said grimly. “I have been hesistant to probe to deeply into the matter for fear of endangering my own life…you understand, ie?” “Of course,” he said truthfully. “If au find anything of use for me…I would…appreciate it.” Pursing her lips for a few moments, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I should na even be talking to au Sheuij…but I will send au everything that I have on the matter on a secure line as soon as I can afford to do so.” “Hann’yyo, sister.” “It is the least I can do.” “H’nah I should go…” “Ie, someone might be able to track this…” “Bedah Ye’Sho.” “Bedah Sheuji.”

The doors to t’Rexan’s private suite closed with a gentle swish of air leaving Destorie N’Dak in Maenak the bay once more. He closed his eyes several times before saying or doing anything else. He glanced towards t’Ksa, smiling slightly. “Perhaps what I needed was to speak to her,” he said, “If you’ll excuse me, t’Ksa, I’ll take my leave of medical h’nah.” Not really hearing her response, he simply nodded and walked towards the exit. The stress of being in Command had taken it’s toll on the young Rihan, N’Dak would be the first to admit to that; what he wouldn’t have admitted to was that he’d let himself fall into the throes of depression. That had caused him to lose focus at a time when his ability to focus would be paramount. A kheinsa had once remarked on a psych evaluation that Destorie had one of the mostly highly developed senses of survival instinct she’d ever come across. Destorie found himself agreeing with the kheinsa. With the help of the Khre’Riov, the will to survive had been rekindled; mentally he began to prioritize his needs as he headed towards a lift. First on the list was speaking with tr’Psichore. The assassin knew more than he would likely be willing to tell, but he would know enough to give Destorie an idea of what or who was behind the plot. Secondly, he needed to establish why someone would want him dead—beyond the obvious. Who ever it was, they were willing to gamble with the lives of the crew Destorie was to protect, and that made him uncomfortable. His uncanny knack to live wasn’t some sort of shield he could raise around the crew; and no mater their duty to him as their acting Enarrain—they were not bait for an assassin. Indeed their safety would be paramount before his. This was the burden of command; the realization that his survival was secondary to those who he command, those who he protected was the knowledge that rested heavily upon his shoulders. Never in his life had he found himself in this position; protecting others before protecting himself. It was a strange and alien sensation which left him feeling venerable. Protecting himself, keeping himself alive was fairly easy; he just had to watch who was shooting at him, or planning on shooting at him; protecting the lives of over a thousand Romulans, many of which wanted him dead, or at least in stasis, was not so easy. It would require much vigilance. Vigilance and determination, that is what it would require. His goals were now changed. Power for himself, his driving ambition had been sidelined; saving himself, protecting himself too had become secondary. Now, his paramount goal was to preserve the crew of the Talon and to ferret out those who wished to harm his crew and the Galae.

Koshic sat glumly in the festive atmosphere of the QoB’s mess hall; drinking his champagne, and looking longingly towards the PADD containing the guest list to his ‘coronation.’ It just wasn’t fair. Right now, instead of sitting on the be-pinked QoB he should have been sipping Elasia wine from a fine golden goblet being feed by his harem of loyal females. All from the comforts of the Royal Palace. Instead he sat there, depressed and drinking with a bunch of bikini-clad Klingons being belittled by his superior officer, who he thought had either way too much sugar or way too much Prozac in his diet…or both. Really it was a sad tale, how his height had stopped him from becoming a great ruler. How he’d always been shunned because he was a little guy. Runt they used to call him. No wonder he had a complex. To say nothing of his shy-awkwardness that often found him fumbling for the right words. Especially around women. Especially women. Pouring himself another glass of the pink bubbly BcH-supplied beverage, he sighed again to himself; how was it that he’d ended up on this flying-what-not-to-wear-convention anyway? --- Two Years Ago Koshic sat idly on the busy concourse of the space port, his few belongings sitting on the bench next to him. A runaway, he’d grabbed what few possessions he could and stole away in the middle of the night, not that anyone would miss ‘the runt,’ anyway. Yes, he’d run away from his life back on Elasia, and the only way he was coming back, was when those idiots realized that size wasn’t everything. Now he found himself doing what he’d never been asked to do before—find a real job. After all he had to eat. At first he wasn’t sure what he would do to make ends meet. He quickly found, however, that the training he’d received as a medic (after all, the only use the short one ever had on Elasia was patching up the tall brutish ones after they got into drunken brawls) was a prized commodity among freighter Captains who often lacked trained medics, let alone ones who weren’t hooked on their own goods. Soon enough, Koshic had found work for a Pakled trader ship, but he found them too annoying to work with and jumped ship at the first opportunity (Seriously, ask the patient what’s wrong and you got a full seventy minute diatribe about their every ache and pain right down to every possible reason for the ache.) So now, he found himself alone again and out of work—the odd man out. That was when he heard about a Klingon ship that was in need of a medic. He’d immediately contacted the Captain(s) of the ship and found them surprisingly eager to have the Elasian aboard their ship…something about how much he reminded them of a former jell-o wrestling partner…even had a similar name. So, now he waited for them to arrive and bring him aboard. “Now Arriving, the QoB Docking Port…” Koshic looked up and smiled; tucking away a small list into his pocket, he stood and headed for the docking port. --- What in Elaa’s name was he thinking? Pink Klingons? How did he ever expect to regain favor in the Dohlman’s court as a lowly assistant medical officer aboard the IKC Pink Lady? Maybe Tro was right, maybe he should stop day dreaming of is victorious return home; of the day when all of Elasia would bow before him in fear and despair. Wait, what the hell was he saying? Tro…right? He looked at his drink--either he’d drank too much or not enough—only one way to find out: Keep Drinking!

Actually from what I read, the barb actually punctured a hole in his heart.

Na, only to t'Rexan...at wholesale na less. :P

Well, and I think we've been over this a few times before, and I don't think anything I am going to say hasn't been said before, but meh. (And this is why bringing up old topics is so much fun ;) ) Essentially it comes down to the fact that I don't think there is really much interest in a day-time sim on any day but perhaps a Saturday or a Sunday, days that most of us GM's aren't available to play in. At some point down the road, a day-sim for perhaps Europeans may become an option that Council explores in more detail. Which, I at least, trust int he Judgement of the council to do. ::tosses in some lint::

Because t'Rexan made him wander about in the medical gown after he escaped the medics, only to run into t'Rexan and insult her third cousin, the nurse he was escaping from. Her punishment to him was to wear the uniform for the rest of his shift.

With the Arcadia in Charted Space, her departed CSEC charts the politcal unknowns The usually busy market place was silent in the early morning. The normally bustling stalls were boarded over; not even a single street vendor could be found. In the Narkani Forum not a single poet was reciting, not a single pairing of old men played the ancient board game kariccie. Across the globe, the collective social world seemed to have stopped on this particularly bright and sunny morning. An early fog rolled over the tranquil seacliffs near the Onakam Bay, but that wasn’t what kept the fishermen from venturing out this morning. In the Golden City, known as Cor Elaa in the native tongue, thousands of Elasians held their breath in a collective angst. The entire planet watched either from live vid feed, or in person as the fate of their planet was being decided. Nearly three months had past since the Civil War had erupted violently, only to be stymied by the valiant efforts of the USS Arcadia. And though the conflict had only lasted a matter of hours, the escalation of hostility had cost untold bars of latinum. With the help of the Federation, who’d extended protectorate status to the now independent Elasia, the various factions of the Elasian government had now begun to make serious progress in working towards a lasting peace. A throng of concerned citizens had gathered outside the Elasian Council building, awaiting a rumored announcement from the Council of Nobles on an agreement to achieving a lasting peace. Movement on the podium stirred crowd. After several minutes, a face they…and anyone from the Arcadia could recognize appeared on a dais behind an arched podium—Lord Regent Koshic N’Dak. Following a few preliminary statements, the announcement they’d been waiting for finally came. “Fellow Children of Elaa,” his voice naturally calming. “We stand here today, nearly three months after the disastrous conflict which cost the lives of too many of Elaa’s great children. “Since the end of the conflict, many of us have searched for answers; reasons to why our peaceful and idyllic life tore apart at the seams. We’ve searched for the motive that drove each side to make war upon brothers in arms.” Koshic flipped through the notes on the podium as he spoke, “Historians will analyze those questions for hundreds of years, and still we may not know the complete answer. But what I do know,” he paused for a moment. “Is that divided we are weak and venerable to our enemies. United, we stand as the rocks upon the cliffs, the waves breaking against our resolve.” Applause had begun to break out across the gallery. Nodding and smiling slightly, letting the applause die before beginning again, Koshic opened his mouth to speak once more, “The fault in our division can not be placed upon one single man, woman, or faction. The fault lies in our own actions. We rise together, and so we shall fall together. For many days the now Council of Nobles, long ago established by the Mother Elaa to guide her children has been meeting, discussing a great many problems and possible solutions our planet faces. If we have learned anything from this conflict, we have come to one solution. The people of Elasia were not intended to be slaves to the desires of the few rich and powerful nobles of the land.” The words echoed across the gallery and the entire planet. The rule of the oligarchs had gone unquestioned for thousands of years, now to hear one of the privileged speaking against it, much less with the voice of the Council of Nobles…words could not describe the amazement. “For generations the people of Elasia have suffered beneath the petty squabbling of the powerful, pawns in a scheme.” The amazement continued. “That ends today. It is my, honor, to announce the Proclamation of Hecua.” Removing a scroll from his robes, he unrolled it. “By the power vested in the Dohlman by the Children of Elaa, I proclaim that the Council of Nobles does hereby relinquish governance of the people. Let it be resolved that a Convention of Delegates from each province of the people come together to form a new, democratic government.”

Thankfully happy to be out of the Maenek bay with a mostly repaired backside (the doctor warned him about sitting for long periods of time, though Destorie had little intention of following that commandment.) Koga had sent the coordinates and the particulars of the dinner meeting his ISD, and Destorie was studying it as he walked towards his quarters. There was much he needed to in preparation for his meeting; a sonic shower, trimming of his hair and the pressing of his finest dress uniform and the polishing of his service awards. The doors to his quarters slid open with a hydraulic hiss and Destorie stepped in. Issaha was finishing his own primping preparing for his duty shift. “Brother,” Issaha said between tying boots. “I heard you were in Maeneken, but I figured you’d as leave I stay away…but I was worried.” “I am sure you were,” Destorie replied coolly. “Worried about what you’d with all the space in these quarters if I were yy’a.” Aghast, Issaha blinked several times, “Brother!” Destorie waved a hand dismissingly, “It was a joke. H’nah au have a duty shift to report for, just because au are my brother does na mean that Sarvek will show au any laxness…” He smirked to himself and said quietly, “if she wants to keep her job.” “Of course na brother, I’ve never expected any sort of special treatment.” Not willing to push the point any further and let the situation devolve into their typical spats, Destorie nodded. “Ie.” Issaha left a few moments later headed off towards the science labs. Destorie was alone for the first time since he’d left his ready room. It seemed to him he was spending more and more time in quite isolation. But he supposed that was a burden of command. Flicking the closet doors open he looked through the hanging uniforms, touching each one, feeling the fabric. He passed one and felt the next one, but moved back as it caught his eyes. The material was a finely woven natural blend. It was soft and pleasing, and the dress uniform would need only light pressing. Laying it on the bed, he selected next a pair of boots. There were his standard duty boots, the more athletic ones he wore on away missions, several pairs of “winter” boots, and then his collection of very expensive hand made boots that he only wore on special occasions. He felt that meeting the sector commander for dinner classified as such an occasion and selected a pair of richly shined black calf-length boots placing them at his bed next to the uniform. You may invite your senior officers. The words continued in his head and he moved deeper into his closet searching for the next item of apparel. Destorie wasn’t sure that inviting the Senior Staff was a good idea. In his current position, it could weaken him by letting them know as much as he did about their mission. If he had nothing else to hold over them that would be his continued bargaining chip. Pulling open a drawer he removed a silken black drape, with an elaborately embroidered green lining. He also took out a silver clasp to attach it to the right shoulder of his uniform. Though rarely used, the drape was considered to be part of the more formal regalia for flag officers. The one Destorie held in his hands had originally been worn by his great-great Grandfather, the original Destorie N’Dak, when he led the Romulan Empire to war against the Humans. Opening the next drawer down, he removed a sheathed dagger. Removing it from the sheeth Destorie inspected it closely. It had been forged especially for his Ascension Date from a particularly rare black metal, whose only source was known to be in the Mountains of his native province of Hein’Rhe. Leaving the closet, he placed the items onto the bed. He knew, that despite the precariousness of his position, this was an opportunity to make a powerful new ally for himself, and he planned to take full advantage of the situation. Glancing across the room to the cabinet which held many of his finer vintages, he considered which vintage tr’Vorn preferred.

In the dark halls of the Romulan Imperial Senate complex, few things stirred. The moons of Romulus rose overhead, the pale figure of Remus high in the star-filled sky. Conspiring in the halls of the Senate were forces setting actions in motion. Actions which would control the fate of two races, nay, the known galaxy. “Procounsel Lai,” the soberly chilling voice of an elder Romulan echoed, “Has been an encumbrance for far too long.” “Indeed,” the equally chilling voice of a female Romulan replied. “For too long she has stood in the path of the Tal’Shiar.” “What then,” the third voice finally added, “Should we do about that?” “There’s the obvious,” a fourth responded. “That would be all too obvious,” the female voice countered. “Perhaps, we should draw her out into the open…force our hand?” ~ The senate chambers were abuzz in commotion surrounding the unscheduled session of the Senate. Not even the Proconsul seemed to know what exactly the meeting had been called for; she’d been on her way out of the office for the break, when a messenger from the Praetor himself had called them into session. Finally, the Praetor cracked the heavy metallic gavel against the marble podium at the front of the room. “I, Praetor Tanis call this session of the Senate to order…the chair recognizes Admiral Destorie N’Dak to speak.” Silence befell the room as the Admiral marched towards the podium. The Proconsul lifted her eyebrows in disapproval. N’Dak, she felt, was little more than a power hungry fool. She’d placed herself at more risk than most in an effort to oppose him and his reckless sister. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself. Giving a nod to the Praetor, Proconsul and Vice-Proconsul, Destorie took his position, placing the speech he’d prepared on the podium. Leafing through it for a few moments, he smiled slightly before opening his mouth.. “Fellow Romulans,” his voice clear, sharp and echoing across the hard, well polished walls of the chambers. “It has been nearly one year since I was placed as head of the War Plans Council. One year since the true threat of the Lloann’na was given the attention it has deserved for sometime. You have listened to my reports, and I have listened to your thoughts and concerns." He looked directly at the Proconsul, “And though some of you have expressed troubling thoughts, the whole of you have been very supportive of all the work the War Plans Council has undertaken and I thank you for your support.” But N’Dak hadn’t come here to suck up, “I come here today to once more implore you to take seriously the threat the Lloann’na pose to the Romulan way of life. They are outsiders, not to be trusted. They bring nothing but chaos to everything they touch. The Vulcans, the Andorians, the Xindi, the Klingons, the list goes on. With every new species they meet, another new problem crops up in an otherwise peaceful place. How long is it to be before they bring trouble to very gates of the Imperial Senate itself?” “I can only hope that you will take my warnings seriously, and I pray to the Elements that question will go unanswered. For we can not afford the luxury of being reactive with such a grave and serious threat. It is for that reason that I am requesting the authorization of four preemptive strikes against Lloann’na emplacements along our border…” Those words sent the previously quite Senate hall into blusterous activity, silenced only by the authoritative tone of Tanis. “Silence! There will be order!” As the room began to quiet, Proconsul Lai stood. The collective eyes of the senate locked upon her and the Admiral. “Admiral N’Dak,” she said, her voice shrill, yet solid, “I can no longer sit here and watch as you railroad our empire on a course that will lead us to disaster.” “Then you can leave the room at any time, Proconsul.” “It is you that will leave the Room, Admiral.” Finally interjecting himself, the Praetor rose. The man who had seen to the Proconsul’s ascension personally, he had the features of a predatory bird (and the reputation to match). Sunken cheeks surrounded a mouth pulled back in a tight line, a thick brow cast foreboding shadows over his narrowed eyes and hooked nose, and hair of pure white that seemed a mockery of his otherwise dark features was pulled back neatly over his scalp. Tanis was a smart man. A very smart man. Few ascended to his position without being clever enough to detect the shifting winds of power, and even fewer stayed in power without shifting with them. The past months had seen him increasingly distancing himself from the more liberal policies of Lai. While he didn’t entirely agree with the Admiral, he knew all too well which of the two would make a more powerful ally or enemy. N’Dak had grown strong. He controlled the Galae with an iron fist. The commanders of the warbirds hanging above the senate would follow his every command without question. The Tal’Shiar, normally the Praetor's foil to the Galae’s strength, had come under Destorie’s control as well through his sister. As well, the Vice-Proconsul Malek had strong ties to the Admiral, and they both carried many senators in their collective pockets. Though he’d helped plan the entire coup, he had not fully commited himself to either side until this very moment. Either way, both sides…both potential rivals to his own power had been brought into full view. Lai cast her glance towards him, visually imploring him to put the Admiral in his place, and to take her side…essentially disgracing the House of N’Dak and at least for the time, stalling the coming war she saw on the horizon. But her plea would fall on deaf ears. “The Admiral has every right to be here,” Tanis finally said as he approached. “He has called for a vote of the Senate, and it shall be acted upon.” Lai blinked in utter shock. She’d been betrayed. Her glance flipped between the perpetrators of the crime. Malek, the Vice-Proconsul smiled smugly towards her, he stood to benefit most from her own disgrace, and Destorie N’Dak…she couldn’t even look at him with out wanting to tear his heart out. Finally her glance fell upon Tanis. For a few moments, she couldn’t speak. “Praetor,” she finally collected herself. “I must offer my resignation as Proconsul…my advice is obviously no longer wanted…or heeded. I can only hope that you will not allow the machinations of this mad man to lead our Empire into ruin and defeat. ” “Then leave this chamber at once,” Tanis commanded, his razor sharp gaze locking onto her. “You are summarily dismissed from the Senate.” With dignity, she turned to go. Her steady footfalls echoed into the silence of a chamber holding it's collective breath. When the great doors had closed ponderously behind her, there was a soft sigh as movement returned to the Senate floor. No sooner had the tension eased, however, than a soft, choked noise came from beyond the doors, followed by a muffled thump. Wide eyes darted between the door through which Lai had so lately exited, and N'Dak standing calmly on the dais. With Lai removed from the senate, it was only a matter of time before the proper procedures were taken care of to approve the request. As was custom, Tanis queried Destorie to the necessity of the action. “Tell us, Admiral why should we grant you this request?” “If we are strong, is this not the sign for war?” The vote passed unanimously. Those who opposed the measure now knew all too well the fate of any who would challenge the combined strength of Praetor Tanis, Proconsul Malek, Admiral N’Dak and Director Rentirr. The dominoes began to fall.

Destorie sighed as the doors slid open and he stepped in. Two things stuck him immediately. The smell of wine, and the naked brother in the floor. Issaha peered up at him, a bottle still dangling from one hand. "Ah -- brother..." he fumbled, blearily. Looking at his brother with raised eyebrow, "I should have expected...at the first opportunity you'd return to your drinking..." "It's na like that," he protested weakly, struggling to sit up only to have his hand slip out from under him. "I was entertaining a guest," he added, with all the dignity a naked man could muster lying prone on the floor. Entering the room, allowing the doors to close, Destorie shook his head and threw Issaha his pants, which were laying on the table, it was not as if he'd never seen his brother in the...what was the Lloann'na word...b'irthday suit. "Your guest?" He enquired, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Issaha fumbled the pants on -- backwards -- and smirked at his brother. "T'Temarr," he said smugly. For a moment Destorie opened his mouth to say something witty in response, but as the verbalization took root, he could only double over in all out laughter. "How much..." he managed between cackles, "did you have to drink!" Glancing around him at the empty bottles, Issaha shrugged. "More than we meant to," he admitted. "But io thing led to another, and..." He trailed off, a reminiscent smile on his face. Laughing nearly uncontrollably, Destorie looked around, tears running down his face at the very idea of that. "You mean, you melted the heart of the Ice Queen of Ch'Rihan and the Talon herself...." "It was na hard," he said, unable to resist taunting his brother a little. "I just had to sit and talk with her a little." Trying to keep his mind out of the proverbial gutter, and failing miserably. "Na hard, huh? Na wander she left in such a hurry!" "A hurry?" Issaha tilted his head to io side, considering. "Na, it was na in a hurry.... What time is it?" Destorie glanced to the clock, "Nearly noon," he smirked still laughing at his brother and this silly idea. "So au and Laehval are an item, h'nah...au must be very proud of yourself." Finally managing to get to his unsteady feet, Issaha threw a triumphant glance at his brother. "What's wrong, Destorie? Are au... jealous?" "Jealous?" Destorie was now lying back against the couch laughing harder than he had in years, "Of a figment of au drunken Imagination? Are au sure it was not just some HIC program?" "Very sure." He sat down on the bed. "She was hardly an Ice Queen, either," he added, just to needle his brother. "Very hot." Holding his stomach in laughter, "Mother always said au had a vivid imagination...." Scowling, he protested, "I did na imagine it." "Sure you didn't," Destorie said, acting serious for a moment. "She was really here...and au two..." He couldn't manage the rest of that sentence and broke out in laughter again. With a sigh, Issaha flopped back on the bed. "Think what au like, brother," he said. "We'll see who has the last laugh." "Oh," Destorie managed between fits of mad laughter, "If I live longer than au...I know who will..." "That's a pretty big 'if' these days," he pointed out, folding his hands behind his head nonchalantly. "That's the first true word you've spoken since I got home," to engrossed in laughter and the thought of those two together to even let such a remark bother him. Issaha rolled his eyes. "Just because au cannot get something -- or someio -- brother, does na mean I can na." "Issaha," he said incredulously, "Why in the name of the Elements, would Laehval...ever...make jol to you? You, who could start a new race by spitting into a petri dish!" This had been a long running joke as to why Issaha was in science in the first place, and Destorie couldn't help himself. He scowled. "Maybe she has taste," he offered, glaring at his brother. "Au aren't the answer to every woman's dreams, Destorie. Don't let t'Ditsy fool au." Doubled over completely, nearly falling out off the couch, "If this is some attempt to assassinate me...its working!" Opting not to dignify that with a response, Issaha merely sniffed and ignored his brother. "Oh," Destorie continued to laugh, "Now he's going to pout. Awww." "Au are just jealous," Issaha snapped, "because for once in aur life aur baby brother has done something au could na!" Piffing, "Riiiiggggghhhhtttttt...you yy'a me Issaha...."

MEMORANDUM Elasian Ministry of Defense TO: All Department Heads CC: Command Staff FROM: Field Marshall Hazhier Raon SUBJECT: Location Alerts --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The following is a continent by continent breakdown of fighting across the planet between Elasian forces and Isian lead rebels. Arema: Heavy fighting has broken out in the southwest provinces in cities of Cor Anaj and Cin Korli, though it has been mostly restricted to urban warfare with little secondary damage. In the Southeast, however, Isians have been shelling the city of Cor Hadir, the location of the Federation embassy. Fighting has been localized elsewhere, as much of the Arema remains loyal. Gailion: Isian rebels attempted to launch an attack on the Komor Air Base, but were repealed, there has been no fighting elsewhere on the continent. Corineth: Heavy fighting between Yvidrian troops and the local militias has occurred on the seven and fifth islands. Yvidrian hoverships attacked the port city of Najin, casulity numbers pending. Missile strikes rocked the main islands, particularly the cities of Garern and Cor Loi Rohland: Isian forces launched attacks on the port cities of Cor Undur and Jah Iien in the west. There have missile strikes towards the main city of Cor Captillia. Yviard: Elasian forced launched an all assault on the rebel stronghold of Gooen Bay Base, heavy shelling in the area. The city of Umam took heavy damage in the process. Isia: Elasian ground forces engaged in battle outside the capitol city of the Isian province, heavy mortar shelling in area. Elaa: No Conflicts reported. The Provinces: Island’s of Farom: Heavy fighting between both sides in this buffer zone between the continents of Rohland and Isia. Reports indicate massive damage in this area. Darsasca: Not only are the Rebels and the Elasians engaged here, locals have split into factions and the heavily urban sub-continent has turned into an all out quagmire of warzone.

Gee, you get the idea that none of us have a life!

IMPERIAL DATABASE PERSONNEL FILES BIOGRAPHIES Name: Koshic Liam N’Dak V Age: 57 Sex: Male POB: Elasia Hair: Grey Eyes: Blue-Green Ht: 7'3" Wt: 235 lbs. Race: Elasian/Betazoid SF Rank: Lord Regent Official Title: Lord Regent Koshic N'Dak, Ruler of Elasia and Soverign of the Children of Elaa, Dohl of the High Temples, Steward of the Rohland, Gaurdian of the Twelve Holy Isles, Bearer of the Holy Sword of Fire and the Amulet of Elaa, Ruler of the Isian and the Lands of the Lord Yviard, Master of the Islands of Corineth and High King of the Seven Lands of Arema, Ruler of Troyius, Noble Lord of Danetri, Xenex and Thallon. Commander of the Imperial Fleet of Elaa, and Grand Marshall of the Army of Troyius. Son of the Fifth House of Betazed, Heir to one of the five Holy Rings and the Sacred Chalice of Rixx. And Guardian of the Holy Lands of Elaa. Current Position: Imperial Prefect of the Elasian Province Family: Father: Dano Tulsan N’Dak, Lord Regent, Deceased Mother: Luxoria Welnaha N’Dak, Daughter of the 5th House of Betazed, Deceased Siblings: Aria N’Dak (Female), Isan N’Dak (Male), Imperial Governor, Troyius Distinguishing Marks: -Medium sized tattoo on right forearm, of his Regent seal Past History: Born on Elasia, the son of Luxoria and Dano, and the eldest of the N’Dak children, Koshic was raised as the heir apparent to the throne of the Elasian Prefecture. When he was seven years old, his mother—Betazoid Royality herself, was killed in a tragic shuttle accident. The theme of death in the family would continue. At age 17 Koshic officially became known as the Crown Prince of Elasia, Captain of the Rohland and Guardian of the Realm. As was standard he spent several years at the Imperial Military Academy of Elasia training and honing his skills as a military leader. At age 27, Koshic’s father perished in an shuttle accident himself, and Koshic soon found himself as the 40th N’Dak to hold the title of Regent. Over the next years, he would establish himself as efficient, if not iron fisted leader. (further information can be found about N’Dak's reign elsewhere in this document) Special Notes: Koshic N’Dak, like most Elasian royalty, has been trained to take advantage of the latent telepathy that few of the general populace ever develop. He is considered to be at least a p12, perhaps higher. His abilities are further enhanced by several “Psionic Enhancers” created by the Elasian nobles hundreds of years ago. Elasian History With arrogance to match their stature, the Elasian people have been renowned for their vast material wealth, powerful military and vicious often vindictive nature. Warring amongst themselves for centuries, by the time of the fall of the Roman Empire on Earth, seven major global powers had arisen. These seven nations would continue to fight amongst themselves until the 1600’s on Earth, when one nation, the Rohlandians lead by the maverick N’Dak Dynasty would force the other nations of the planet to submit to their rule. By the late 1800’s the Elasians had discovered space flight, and with in a generation begun to colonize the rest of their home system. While Humans were beginning to explore the dark realms of nuclear power, the Elasians made their first FTL capable ship. Continuing to expand and colonizing several systems with in a decade of this discovery, the Elasians encountered the nearby Troyian Empire in the year 1968. The encounter was disastrous and would alter the course of history for both races. History records that the Troyian vessel attacked first, but there is little evidence to support this theory. Regardless, the destruction of the Elasian vessel Soltok would send shockwaves through the Elasian people. In reaction, Lord Regent Aon XIII commissioned the construction of a massive fleet. This order would spark an epic arms race that lasted over two centuries, with neither side willing to commit openly to war against the other. This ended in 2143, as the Humans were taking their first steps into becoming a major galactic power, the Troyians and Elasians encountered the Klingons. For the next 13 years, the Klingons would slowly manipulate the conflict, seeing it both as an opportunity to eliminate a potential threat to their Empire, and also gain an ally in the victor. In 2156 the Elasian Fleet crossed into Troyian space, based upon Klingon intelligence that the Troyians were planning to do the same, and struck preemptively at a Troyian Military facility. For the next century the two races were in a nearly perpetual state of war, as the Klingons and later the Terran Empire fueled the conflict. In the 2260’s the conflict came to an end when the Elasian Navy developed Mass Drivers (essential linear motors acting as catapults for asteroids) and deployed them against the major Troyian colony world of Tygress II, killing all but a handful of colonists as the Elasian Fleet brought hell and fire upon the planet non-stop for three days until the Troyian Government surrendered. Known as the Surrender Treaty of Faju, the whole of Troyian space was turned over to the Elasian crown and the Troyian people enslaved. Luckily for the Elasians, the ascendant power of the day, the Terran Empire was in a transitional period, with the fall of the Rex Dynasty and the rise of Spock. From 2270-2292, the Elasians developed a strong bond with the Klingon Empire, and expanded militarily and economically, virtually unchecked until the Praxis explosion. Seeing the shifting winds of the galaxy, the Elasians quickly allied themselves with the Terran Empire. In 2298, a new Lord Regent N’Dak came to power, Tolin II. Influenced by the teachings of Spock, Tolin halted the military build up of the Elasian Fleet, and focused on developing the infrastructure of his budding galactic power. In addition, Tolin negotiated the first of three accords, known as the Vatican Accords, with the Terran Empire creating an alliance between the two. In return for allowing them to rule autonomously over their space, the Elasians would grant sole trading rights to the Terran Empire. In 2341, Tolin II died of mysterious causes, and his son Dano became the new leader; shortly there after Dano began to modernize the Elasian Army, with the blessing of the Terran Emperor at the time. In 2361, he began a military conquest of a new power known only as the Son’A. This conquest would lead them to a people known as the Baku, and the literal Fountain of Youth. By the end of the decade, the Elasian Empire had expanded or absorbed most of the smaller powers of the area. Their rule over this area was strengthened in 2371 when the Second Vatican Accords granted them broad discretionary powers over an entire area now known as the Elasian Prefecture. The reasoning for this was simple, with the Cardassian Conflict winding up; the Terrans could little afford another powerful enemy. In 2373, Lord Regent Dano N’Dak was assassinated by Troyian Rebels working with the Danteri Empire, one of the few local powers that had not been absorbed into the Elasian prefecture, and with the assistance of the Romulans. The assassination set in motion a series of events, including the coronation of Koshic V as Lord Regent. It was soon learned that the Danetri had provided assistance to the Troyians and had participated in the assassination plot. Furious and outraged, the Elasian Empire declared war on the Danteri Empire. The conflict was quick, but hardly bloodless; fueled by rage, the Elasian warmachine devastated the Danteri fleet at the Battle of Thantamos Sector. Shortly after, the nearly defenseless Danteri homeworld was brought as a sacrifice to sate the rage. If there was any doubt of the extent of mercy the new Lord Regent was willing to show, it was erased by his actions following the subjugation of the Danteri. Every Danteri male was rounded up and summarily executed, then buried in mass graves. The females were sold into slavery, but not before they were sterilized. The message was clear—no Danteri would ever challenge the Elasians again. Among their spoils of war the world Xenex and much of the former Thallonian Empire which had collapsed some years before. Perhaps with the shadow of the genocide of Danteri Prime looming, there was little resistance as the Elasian armies absorbed these lands into the Prefecture. By 2380, the Elasian Prefecture was among the most powerful provinces of the Empire. Never one to rest on his laurels though, Koshic began modernizing his armed forces, again with the blessing of Earth. As the Romulan Civil War began to rage, Koshic began plotting in concert with the new Emperor Swaggert to exact revenge upon the Romulans, and expand their powerbases. Around this time, the Third Vatican Accords were formalized, elevating the post of Lord Regent from de facto Imperial Governor to a position just bellow the Vulcan Autarch. When the Terran Empire formally declared war on the fractured Romulan Empire, the Elasian Navy, led by the Lord Regent, participated in nearly ever major engagement of the war. In 2393, when the Imperial forces reached Eisn, the Romulan home system, it was the Elasian Fleet who saw to the utter destruction of Remus. As they’d done nearly 250 years before to the Troyians, the Elasians bombed Remus into the stone age using mass drivers. Following the Surrender of Versailles, the Elasian forces returned to their normal patrol duties in their prefecture. However, in recent months, they’ve been called upon to fight growing resistances in the Romulan Province and also on Xenex and Troyius. The role of the Elasians in their relationship with Earth is and was simple. They are a valuable ally that would be difficult to eliminate. The Empire allows them deference in most manners, so long as they answer the call of Earth when they are needed.

Ouch, t'Rex! I feel down the stairs the other day, ankle was swore for a couple days, so I know how you feel! Heh, don't worry about us :P Hope you feel better soon!

It was a warm spring evening on ch’Rihan, a subtle breeze blowing through an open window in the kitchen of the house of N’Dak. Alone at the table, the young six year old Destorie Ma’Lyn set glancing at the empty room. There was a flickering of light upon a sugary confection. He’d waited an entire year for this day, and now that it was here—he rather wished it would end. Alone at the table, he blew softly, extinguishing the light and allowing a mellowed darkness to fill the room. The scent of the freshly blown out candle filled his nostrils, usually this made him happy, for it reminded him of the lavish parties his parents had thrown for him when he was younger. But this was a very sad memory for the young N’Dak. Ever since his siblings had been born, what time his parents did spend with him became less and less frequent. Today, his father could not be with him—he was on a trade mission; his mother was busy being an ambassador to some planet he couldn’t pronounce…where his new brother Issaha was, along with his sisters. Why hadn’t they taken him too? A small tear streamed down his cheek. Sure his nanny was there to take care of him, but she had many things to do and couldn’t be troubled by the young boy’s birthday. Today at school, he’d lied to his friends when they asked him if he would have a party for them. He said no, which wasn’t a lie, but he had instead said that his father was taking him to the amusement center at i’Taramu. He’d never been there before—ever—and likely never would. His father was always to busy for him, too concerned with the affairs of the state, never for his family… Flickering his eyes, Destorie glanced out the window of the Enarrain’s chambers. His life had been a very strange dream. Born the fortunate son of a senator, born into the life of power and luxury; his life had been far from a pleasant one. In retrospect, he always made it seem more…grand. The glorious exploits of his youth, even the showering of affection upon him by his parents. His mother and father loved him, of that he was sure…but it had not been the sort of warmth he’d convinced himself it was. Perhaps it was a coping method. His sixth birthday was among the most painful memories he’d ever felt. More than death of his lover; more than being beaten by Koga and t’Rexan; more than being stripped of his rank. Yet he’d spoken so little of it…ever. With the dark past behind him, and an uncertain future before him the memories of that evening had finally surfaced. At first he didn’t realize why. Why now? Why so many years later would this searing memory remerge into his conscious and waking thoughts? It came to him in an epiphany, hitting him like a brick wall—because he’d never felt so powerless and alone as then. Not even now. Nothing would ever touch that feeling. As he stood watching the stars, he felt a tear run down his face, as his jaw line and lips began to tremble. For all his bravado, for all of his posturing and outward strength there was an empty pit in his soul; a deep scaring sadness that seemed to consume him in its darkness. Wiping the tear from his eyes, he looked into the window and saw a reflection, but not of the proud Rihan who’d finally achieved his goal of controlling the fate of the Talon and his own destiny—but of a little boy, alone at the table the smell of dying embers in his nose, a tear upon his cheek.

Koshic glanced out the window of the sleek silvery shuttle that had been sent to retrieve him from thee Arcadia. Though transporters were functioning, his body guard did not trust such methods of transportation, as it was all too easy to intercept a transporter signal. The slight shift of gravity let Koshic know they were entering the upper atmosphere, glancing backwards, he saw the sparkling hull of the Arcadia slipping out of view. As the shuttle dipped below the clouds and into the lower atmosphere of his home planet, he took a deep breath. Streaking across the skies, the glinting shuttle soon was upon the ancient city of Cor Capital, home of the Rohlandians. In the distance, Koshic could see the dazzling Golden Citadel in the morning sun. Banners waved high in the air—the Regent had returned. Skimming past the modern buildings of the newer sections of the city, the shuttle turned towards the citadel. There generations of Lord Regents from five Dynasties had ruled over their land. But for several years, the throne had remained empty. Another deep breath; Koshic had wanted so badly to escape this fate, yet at every turn he seemed drawn to it more and more. Hayden’s words bounced around in his head as the shuttle made its final descent towards a landing pad near the looming golden palace sitting upon a spike of sheer rock, over looking the entire city. She’d given him a choice. For the first time in his life, some one was going to make him choose. Koshic had always been somewhat of a duelist; good and evil weighed heavily on his mind. He’d been tempted by power more than once, and every time he took it…people died. Perhaps more than anything else, that’s why he’d shied away from accepting the responsibility that now seemed an inevitability; the great power he wielded could be used for great evil. And so, he’d exiled himself away from this place, and the two Koshics were created; the Starfleet officer and the man who would be king. The simple truth was, he was afraid. For sometime, he’d managed to convince himself that the only reason he didn’t go back was Hecua. But he knew now that wasn’t it. Granted those feelings still turned like a knife in his heart, but in time those wounds would heal. In time, she might love him again. There was subtle admission in all of this, for nearly ten years now, Koshic had been running. And now, in his nation’s darkest hour in generations, he found himself confronted by everything he’d been running from. The shuttle touched down with a soft thud. “Regent,” a voice broke Koshic’s streaming thoughts. “Vice-Roy Coreth is waiting for you in the throne room.”

Gah....I did that half-asleep! I fixeth!

Update

So, while being bored last night, I came up with this spoof. To the Theme of "Captain Planet" : Earth! Fire! Wind! Water! Heart! GO ch’Rihan!! With your powers combined I am Captain Rihan! Captain Rihan, he's our hero, Gonna take Lloann’na down to zero, He's our powers magnified, And he's fighting on the Rihan side Captain Rihan, he's our hero, Gonna take Lloann’na down to zero, Gonna help him put them under, Bad guys like us like loot and booty "You'll pay for this Captain Rihan!" (chanting) We're the Rihanteers, You can be one too! 'Cause saving ch’Rihan is the thing to do, Looting and killing is the way, Hear what Captain Rihan has to say: "THE POWER IS YOURS!!"

“Sinnerman where you gunna run to, Sinnerman where you gunna run to, Where you gunna run to, All on that day” Nina Simone, 'Sinnerman' Destorie N’Dak found himself in the command seat of the RES Talon unable to run from the sinking realization of what was on the ISD still laying in t’Rex…no his office. He felt a sudden inescapable dread wash over him. Glancing towards t’Aehjae his former rival, he let a soft sigh escape. “See to it that t’Rexan has a constant guard,” he waved a hand dismissively. He wanted to run, he wanted to hide. But no rock could hide him. And no matter how much he needed the rock, he couldn’t hide behind it, it would fail him. Just as he had failed t’Rexan. She’d tried to help him, try to make him stronger; but at every turn he resisted. At every turn he pushed her away. Twice, he’d tried to kill her. More than that he’d threatened or thought about it. And till a few moments ago, he’d never forgiven himself for not tossing her out an airlock when he had the chance. Was he so consumed by the quest for power, that he couldn’t let anyone help him? Shaking his head, he sighed deeply once more. There was little he could do about all of that now. The history had been written, though the future lay before him. That is, should he survive the next few days. For all the seeming benevolence in t’Rexan’s actions, the scheming mind of Destorie N’Dak couldn’t help but see the motive. In one sweeping move, t’Rexan had made N’Dak the most hated man or woman on the ship; likely making him more hated than t’Rexan had ever been and making herself look like the Fairy Godmother of ch’Rihan. Destorie stopped himself. It was that sort of thinking that had gotten him into this situation in the first place. What if t’Rexan really did care about his well being? That thought echoed around his head. He looked up towards the Elements, couldn’t they see him praying? But the Elements didn’t answer them, they said run to the devil. Only one person on the Talon had more experience with t’Rexan than himself, and her name was Laehval t’Temarr. The devil would be waiting.