NDak

Filled with expensive vehicles, the flitter port near the Tzanana, a posh upper-crust island off the shores of the Imperial City, home of Senator Jhaen Saevon buzzed with activity. Out the side port of their silver, Hvillah, Issaha and Destorie N’Dak looked on anxiously. Having eschewed their military uniforms in favor of crisply pressed black and charcoal tunics, the two brothers had said little since they departed from the Senate grounds. Once the long, sleek bodied Hvillah finally touched down, they were quickly ushered out from their flitter and escorted by footmen down a long sandy path towards the palatial home that set on picturesque, manicured greens overlooking the purple oceans. The warm, evening sea-breeze swept across the island as they were finally led to the door where they were greeted by a tall, thickly built Romulan with deeply grayed hair and the countenance of a statue and his diminutive, but attractive bondmate. “Jolan tru,” the senator said, “Daise’Erei’Riov and Ne’Arrain N’Dak. It has been many years since you have been to one of our parties, and though my bondmate and I were both sad to hear that the Senator and the Ambassador would not be attending, we were overjoyed to hear that we would have two such distinguished young ios as auself, and au Issaha, Ruealla was especially happy to hear that au would be in attendance. She thinks often of au!” Destorie fought an urge to laugh and instead tipped his head. “Hann’yyo, we are both honored to be invited to your home, Senator. Perhaps you should reintroduce Issaha and Ruealla, then? He also thinks often of her, don’t au?” Beside him, and dying inside, Issaha nodded. “I.. ie. Ie, that would be most… gracious of au.” Jhaen smiled. “Mehnka! Chasra,” he said turning to his wife, “why don’t au take Issaha to the salon and introduce him to Ruella again. Destorie, au come with me, au may join myself and the others in the drawing room.” Issaha looked to his brother with wide, fearful eyes, but was met with only a devious smile. “Go along Issaha, and remember to behave.” “Ie, brother,”Issaha said as Chasra locked arms with him, leading him into the home. Several minutes later, Destorie found himself in a pushily decorated room adorned with gold-pressed latnium leaf, thickly upholstered chairs, and exquisite art works to rival museums. Of course, to io who’d grown up with this sort of ostentation, it wasn’t exactly awe-inspiring; still having spent so much time on a starship, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome, either. The room was filled with aristocratic power brokers from both public and private sectors, senators and captains of industry. In fact were his house name not N’Dak, he would be severely out of place, and though he knew many in the room, it had been sometime since he’d spoken to them, and this was his first formal introduction to them as a peer, and not a child of a great house. In some way, it was liberating. Taking him around the room, Jhaen took pains to make sure that Destorie was properly introduced as an equal, even to the military officers in the room that outranked him. Once such officer, EnRiov Gharan Jaeoln, took particular interest in the young officer. “Daise’Erei’Riov, did au say?” Gharan said speculatively over a glass of ale, looking mildly impressed at the short young N’Dak. “And at such a young age, most impressive.” Actually blushing mildly, Destorie nodded as Jhaen politely excused himself. “Hann’yyo.” “Though I am surprised how a young man of au pedigree and obvious caliber has escaped my attention. Just where has Galae Command been hiding au?” Destorie mentally frowned, hesitant to reveal his assignment, still it wasn’t like it wouldn’t come out eventually. “I have served for the last several years aboard the Talon.” “The Talon?” Gharan said, his eyebrows arching. “Under Khre’Riov t’Rexan?” “Ie.” “And au have managed to live this long?” “Ie.” “Then au should be commended! That old battle axe goes through executive officers faster than Senator Elral goes through lovers!” Relieved that it wasn’t a grave offense, Destoried chuckled. “Only two others during my tenure,” he said. “But, ie. It is na the easiest of assignments.” “Then au clearly like a challenge,” Gharan said, calling a servant carrying glasses of ale over. “Mehnka! Too many ios in au position would use their family name to get cushy assignments near homeworld pushing papers, or on quiet patrols. Talon certainly doesn’t get those missions!” “As the Lloann’na say, ‘au can say that again’,” Destorie added ruefully as he took a glass of ale from the server. Destorie continued his conversation with the gravel voiced Enriov for sometime; discussing a wide range of issues from his first assignment to his most recent mission. Meanwhile, in the salon, Issaha had his handsful. “Oh Issaha,” Ruealla Saevon exclaimed, wrapping two arms around him. “I thought I’d never see au so soon!” Gasping for breath as the tall, well-built, brunette squeezed his ribcage, Issaha tried to feign excitement. “Oh has it been that long?” “Nearly three years you dog!” “How time flies!” Finally releasing her prey, Ruealla grabbed him by the arm, thanked her mother and drug him across the ornately furnished room to one of the couches, where a flock of young female Rihans sat with wide grins on their faces. “Girls,” Ruealla announced. “This is Issaha, of the House S’N’Dak. He’s the one I told you about! Isn’t he handsome!” They giggled and nodded as he was pulled down into the gaggle. “So, now, Issaha, tell us about all the wonderful, exciting and sexy adventures you had on your ship!” “My… my ship?” “Yes! Your ship! See he’s already commanding his own ship girls!” He felt an elbow in his side as he started to protest and let out an umph, before recovering with a ‘Oh, yes of course.’ He was going to kill Destorie. Though he did occasionally feel that strange feeling of some io walking on au grave, Destorie gave it little thought and continued conversing with the power-broking elite of ch’Rihan until at last it announced that dinner would be served. Smiling and parting ways with Gharan with a promise to come see him before he left for the Talon again to discuss a possible reassignment, Destorie found himself at a large table with dozens of people. Beside him, Issaha was all but cowering under the table. “Au look as if au enjoyed auself, Issaha.” “Oh my elements,” Issaha said with his best attempt at the infamous N’Dak-death-glare (to which Destorie was entirely immune.) “How could you do this to me!” “Do what?” Destorie said as he spread his napkin on his lap as the first course began coming out. “Leave me with her.” “Oh. Well on the bright side it looks like she completely forgot about the last time you saw her.” “I’ll say,” Issaha said still half-glaring. “You have no idea what it was like. Her and all of her friends were all over me. Hugging me, touching me. One even groped me on the sly!” “Why Issaha,” Destorie said taking a roll. “I would have thought this to be your dream dinner.” “I hate you, brother.” “No you don’t.” “Yes I do. And when dinner is over, we’re leaving.” “No we’re not.” “Yes we are.” “No we aren’t.” “Then I am.” “No you aren’t.” “I hate you. If we have to stay then then I am not going to spend any more time with the ladies. I am going to come with you and be a grown up.” Destorie glanced at Issaha, and then up the table where Ruealla was waiving at Issaha. “Sorry, Iss, but looks like your girlfriend has other plans for you.” “She. Is. Not. My. Girlfriend.” “Not yet.” “Go to hell.” Content that he finally exacted some small measure of vengeance against his always in trouble, lecherous brother, Destorie continued through the meal, making occasional small talk to those around him – enough to be sociable, but not so much to draw attention to himself (which was rather surprising given his brash nature.) Once the dinner had been served, the men withdrew to the drawing room again, while the women and younger men (namely Issaha) went back to the salon for card games, or in Issaha’s case, playtime – but not the kind he enjoyed. In the drawing room, Destorie found himself in even more powerful company than he had before dinner. In fact, he was likely the only man in the room who either wasn’t a senator, an executive at a large firm, or a flag officer of the Galae. “It’s a shame that tr'Vatrix could na join us,” one of them said at some point. “Ie,” Gharan added. “Though I would na cry for him!” Destorie looked up from his drink (a rather strong liquor) and blinked. This topic could get uncomfortable in a hurry. “Oh?” One of the Senators asked. “Why is that? I mean his wife did just leave him.” “Ie,” Gharan said with a sly grin. “But I am told that he was seen with a rather young, svelte Rihannsu earlier this week, and has spent much time with her. Quite the looker.” “Well au know what they say about power…” “Ie,” another said, “It is na hard to have lovely women draped all over au when au have such power.” Destorie sighed in relief. They hadn’t heard, apparently, that the woman ‘draped’ all over tr’Vatrix was none other than L'Haiy t'Rexan – his commanding officer. Nor had they apparently learned about her little… face lift. “Au have met tr’Vatrix?” Gharan said turning to Destorie. “Me?” “Ie, au? I mean he is close to that thrai that commands au ship, is he na?” Elements. Destorie hesitated, unsure how much he could actually trust anyio in the room and even more unsure how much of his own past they actually knew. He went for simple, but truthful. “Oh, well, ie, I have met him before, and ie, I do believe someio mentioned in passing that the two have known each other for many years.” Gharan slapped Destorie on the back and smirked. “Well, I am sure she was torn up when she heard that he was single again.” “I bet she was ready to get her hook into him!” “Now now…” “How did she get that hook anyway.” Destorie was mortified, but kept a straight face. “If I recall correctly,” Gharan said, taking a drink. “She got in a fight with some giant alien squid.” Destorie opened his mouth, but a sly look from Gharan told him all he needed to know. “Isn’t that right, Destorie.” “Oh, ie. It was terrible.” “Ah, well then. Looks like she’ll have to get in line then, eh Gharan.” “Indeed.” When the party had begun to wind down, Destorie found himself on a balcony alone with Gharan and the sweet sea breeze blowing in for the night. “Hann’yyo,” he finally said. “For what?” “For covering my honor back there…” “Oh, au mean that thing with t’Rexan’s hand?” “Ie,” Destorie said lowly. “It was na exactly my shining moment.” Gharan snorted. “Na, but au certainly paid a steep price for au lesson.” “Ie.” “Did she ever permit those scars to be healed?” “Ie.” “Mehnka. Io with a destiny such auself should na have to bare such burdens.” Destorie smiled and decided to take the compliment for what it was. “Well I should go find my brother, I am sure by now Ruealla has him in make-up.” Gharan snorted again. “Bedah then, Destorie, of the House S’N’Dak. Au did well in there, I hope to see more of you on homeworld soon enough. Remember to come see me before the Talon disembarks.” Destorie nodded again and tipped his head respectfully, “Hann’yyo again, and bedah.” Leaving to find his brother, Destorie couldn’t help but wonder just what Gharan had meant.

Mission Briefing:: As members of the crew are being questioned, having been broken up into various groups that were supposedly together at the time of the mutiny, the interrogators watch and listen to each of the responses. Having already read through the various depositions, they are starting to push and prompt the groups to turn on each other and point out any remaining mutineers that may be remaining in the group that had not earlier been purged once the ship was reclaimed. 091610.txt

Sun gleamed through the brisk morning air of the northern city of Sharan, ch’Rihan. Once a port city known for its fishing and heavy industry, it had been devastated during the Battle of ch’Rihan as heavy infantry fighting had centered in the strategic city. With roots and buildings dating back centuries, the once proud city was a shell of itself in the days and months following the liberation of ch’Rihan. Nearly five years later, Sharan had become the poster child for post-war reconstruction efforts as towering spires of glass and duranium rose along her skyline, while a massive new spaceport entered its final stages of construction on the banks of the purple waters of the Haeir Sea. The center piece of a multi-billion Imperial credit reconstruction effort, Sharan was now home to three large technology parks for civilian development, two military research complexes, a medical technology research campus, in addition to serving as the central communications hub for the entire northern hemisphere. The expansive Galaron i-Sharan Spaceport would eventually house a sprawling marketplace designed to be the third largest in the empire, serving as a gateway to the rest of the northern continent of Llaes’uu. In the air above the city reborn, flitter traffic buzzed between atmospheric shuttles and cargo transports as the rush hour began. In the distance a convoy of drab-olive grey military transports flanked by sleek atmospheric fighters hurdled along the outskirts and towards the lush, deciduous forests and mountains that lay beyond Sharan and the Taelo Mountains that slumbered beyond the city. “Do you remember what this city looked like just five years ago,” Destorie N’Dak said out loud as he looked out a window of his transport. “The whole place looked like something out of a nightmare.” “Yes,” the aide agreed. “It’s hard to believe that we have been able to accomplish so much in so little time.” Grinning and continuing to look out the window towards the glittering skyline, Destorie nodded. He hadn’t been in Sharan during the liberation, but he’d toured the city in the days and weeks following the Galae victory. For a moment he could almost still smell the horrible scents of scorched flesh and metal intertwining in a macabre potpourri of death and destruction. It was, he recalled, a startling moment. Sharan had been a city built up over hundreds of years by generations of Rihan laborers, and in but a few days tore down into an unrecognizable, lifeless graveyard. “You’re looking forward to this, aren’t you?” Turning from the window to look at the aide, he smiled. “I always enjoy coming to Llaes’uu and Sharan, but yes. This has been a speech I’ve wanted to give for some time. It’s an incredible lesson of how much easier destruction is than creation, but yet we have triumphed in spite of that.” The aide nodded and glanced out her own window. She’d say one thing for her employer; the man had a flourish for the rhetorical. As the convoy veered away from the bustle of the city, the landscape gradually turned more rural. Lakes and rivers dotted a rugged, frontier landscape of small towns and cottages and before long the convoy began descending as the approached an isolated outcropping of four buildings on the side of a lake. A glow began to surround N’Dak as the buildings grew in the window and the convoy began circling for landing on the flitter-dock in a small clearing a few hundred meters from the buildings. Of all his families holdings, this isolated retreat in the far north of Llaes’uu was his favorite. As a child, and then young adult, he’d spent long summers months skulking about the woodlands, and as often as his schooling allowed, gone hunting in the wild lands of the 15,000 gaet estate that surrounded the wooden lodge perched on the lake filled with fish. The large, hulking, drab-olive military issue Daeen-class transport touched down and her side entrance doors slid open. The Praetor and his entourage of his closest assistants, advisors, and aides emerged while D’heno’Fvillah dressed in dark, black uniforms and bearing stylized platinum birds of prey on their collars swept the area. The D’heno’Fvillahui, or literally the Praetor’s Security, force had of course already been preparing for their guest, but still over caution was the watch word with the unit of nearly 6,000 elite men and women chosen to protect the Praetor. Shielding his eyes from the sun, Destorie began walking towards the lodge where he was met by his Director of Imperial Security (an even more nebulous position than the title sounded) , Arrhne tr’Khalvin. “Jolan tru,” Destorie said with a bright smile as he shielded his eyes. Almost immediately, though he noticed the look on Khalvin’s face. “What’s wrong.” Khelvin’s sober eyes glanced towards the transport and then back to the Praetor. He hated being the bearer of bad news. “You’re going to have to cancel your speech in Sharan, or at least post-pone it.” “Why?” “There’s been a problem with the Alliance’s mission.” Smile fading to frown, Destorie’s countenance paled. Every time something went right, it seemed, disaster struck him and he was once again pulled into a torrent of controversy. “Elements,” he said finally. “Bring me up to speed.” “Of course, sir. I have Daise’Enriov t’Saee on conference call in the situation room, and Enriov tr’Lovaeo is in the air now and will join you shortly. “Sarvek went ahead and let the organizers know about the Sharan speech. The press hasn’t gotten wind of the situation yet, but elements only know how long that will hold up.” Destorie nodded and followed exhaling as they went. “Preliminary reports indicate the explosion was caused by a matter/anti-matter device. However, we cannot at this time verify that it was a Federation device, or the delivery method used.” “Elements,” Destorie said as they entered the lodge house and headed straight for a basement staircase. “This is going to be a huge mess.” “Ie,” Khalvin said. “And one we cannot afford.” Destorie stopped outside a security door and turned to his chief of staff. “Get a hold of Lkhan and get him here. Also Hvarol.” “Hvarol?” “We’re going to go public with this before anyone else does. We’ve got too much going on between getting our agenda through the Senate and the Dargol mess to get derailed by trying to explain why we hid this.” “If you think that’s a wise idea.” “I don’t,” he said with a deep frown. “But I’d rather deal with it on my own terms. And get me Senator Faeil. She should be at her home on Varae Isle.” Khalvin blinked repeatedly and had to force his mouth from gapping. “Senator … Faeil? As in Senator Aeji Faeil?” He said in disbelief. “You know, the leader of Uhdan’Euar ?” “I am unaware of no other person serving in the senate by that name,” Destorie said with almost Vulcan precision. “Is that…” Khalvin stopped unable to compose himself. “Destorie…” Destorie’s glance hardened. “I am going to need her and her allies on this one. They were the ones who wanted more Federation support.” “They also didn’t want to go along with our size plans…” “They don’t have to agree with me on everything.” “You don’t think she’ll seize this opportunity?” “I don’t think there’s anything she can gain by attacking me, but inaction can be a pretty effective tactic. Sometimes the lack of words says more than a thousand words."

Mission Briefing: The crew of the Talon has been infomed that they will report in small groups to be questioned about the latest mission. The entire crew has been broken down into groups that will report together to either answer, repudiate, or deny any charges that have been inferred up their personage. Many of the low level crew members have already reported and are currently undergoing questioning, and the next few groups of higher level officers have been called In that first listing: t'Jhiin, tTemarr, tAehjae and NDak Second listing includes: Issha, RTor, trGuard, trPexil and tDitsy Third listing includes t'ksa, trRadaik Lastly, t'Rexan has been ordered to report last and to report directly to trVatrix's offices. 090910.txt

The call had not been unexpected; that it had taken this long for the call to come had itself been rather surprising. Destorie had been in this position before. He’d been questioned, interrogated, poked, prodded and given the nth degree over his every decision. At some level, he almost enjoyed the process. It had almost become … routine. Glancing to the blinking light on his hand-held ISD, he acknowledged the summons and stood from his resting position, placing aside crew evaluations to finish later after the grueling work of justifying himself. Running his hands through his regrown, crew-cut brown hair, Destorie walked to the small sink outside the sonic shower to wash his face. Looking in the mirror as he cupped water in his hands and splashed it, he considered for a moment the man he now saw looking back at him and how different he was from the previous times he’d faced such an inquiry into his actions. The first time, he’d been a young man still green from the Retor who’d been drug unwittingly into a galactic game of chess being played at the highest levels as the Alpha Quadrant teetered on the dangerously on the precipice of defeat in the war against the Dominion and her allies. In truth, he’d been so emotionally numb during the entire tribunal that he remembered very little, other than officially he was found not to be at fault, as he was only following orders. When he faced the tribunal a second time, however, the experience had been far more visceral. Sighing, Destorie turned the water off and toweled his face dry. He’d been reckless then. His ambition, his lust for power had betrayed his honor and left him scarred, physically and emotionally; and even though his body was now being repaired, the damage to his honor and his career would follow him the rest of his life. Shrugging on a clean tunic before sliding his feet into freshly polished black boots, he recalled his most recent trip before the tribunal. The Talon had returned from disastrous trade mission with dangerous knowledge about the activities of the Tal’Shiar, and for him, knowledge that his father had been extorted into supporting their nefarious activities, activities he worried could push the Empire to the brink of civil war. Those ties, even though now severed, had complicated the situation and his loyalty had been put on trial. In many ways, he considered, the journey he was about to make was merely an extension of those previous inquires. His loyalty and his judgment would be questioned based on the perceived notions that had came from those inquiries and his actions in the past. The man he’d seen in the mirror was not the same man who’d been before these boards, even though he’d be judged as such. He’d learned to control his ambitions, his temper, his lust for power. As he headed out of his quarters and towards the airlock that would lead him to yet another tribunal, he exhaled. The younger Destorie would have been sullen, pouting or resentful that his loyality was about to be questioned, that his every decision would be scrutinized, and in all likelihood, that he’d be accused of being a traitor to the Empire by someone. Now though, as he cleared the airlock and planted his foot on the station, he felt … secure.

Mission Briefing:: The Talon has been escorted to one of Galae's orbital docking stations for it's debriefing and inquiry into the mutiny. 090210.txt

Talon heads home. 081910.txt 082610.txt

Mission Briefing: The Talon has traversed the Bajoran wormhole, recieved the proper clearances, though with minor obstructions to pass through, was finally allowed to make it's way towards Rihannsu space amidst pressure from io of a Rihan representative and entourage aboard DS9 for local negotiations. As we near Rihannsu space, many feelings begin to pass through the crew: relief, exhaustion, fear, worry ... and suspicion. Each must decide where they will stand at the end of the day.. 081210.txt

Mission Briefing: Ducking and dodging a pair of bothersome Kll'inghannsu that had been badgering us for almost a 2 weeks, and nearing the wormhole the crew began to have thoughts of home, but just need to make it to the wormhole without another altercation which most likely would pull in the Lloann'na being this close to the wormhole 080510.txt

The strategic operations center at the I’Tarian Fleet Yards buzzed with an eerie disquiet. It was late, or early, and senior officers had replaced the graveyard shift juniors with tired eyes and disheveled looks. It had been just over twenty minutes since the first report had came in from the testing of the newest and most advanced warbird in the Romulan fleet, and to say that it had not gone according to plan, would be an understatement worthy of a Vulcan. In the heart of the control room, a tall, hawkish figure stood with her arms crossed behind her back. With her long, jet black hair was pulled into a tight pony tail; her ravenous, emerald eyes were flickering with discontent. “Elements,” she hissed. “This is not good.” Her subordinates glanced over and cringed. “Due to the damage to the Alliance,” one of them offered, a young Arrain named Hajol tr’Ssaan, “we won’t be able to get a live uplink going for a while.” She nodded, though she already knew that much. “Get me a secure uplink with fleet command in my chambers. They will want to know about this right away. I assume that the Alliance communications arrays are also damaged?” “Ie,” tr’Saan said quickly. “Real time audio communications should be restored in the next six hours, real-time visual communications will come after that.” Nodding again, she took a deep breath and picked up an ISD from the edge of the console jotting off several quick notations before looking to a grey-haired, jagged faced Erei’Riov sitting at a nearby console. “I want the Golshon’s Anvil prepped and ready to launch within the hour. Elements be damned if I am going to let the Lloann’na be the vessel to tow the new flagship of the Galae back to port.” The Erei’Riov nodded. “Of course, Riov. I already began recalling the crew and we will be ready to launch in forty-five minutes.” “Mehnka, Jaton. As soon as au are ready I want au en route.” The Riov took another breath, tapped more notes and hissed again. “Also,” she said doing her level best to stay calm. “Have the Serpent’s Curse follow you cloaked. Eveik’s report notes the possibility of sabotage. If the Lloann’na are responsible, I imagine the Galae will want them brought back as prisoners.” “Ie, I will let Riov Crahn know.” “Authen,” she said turning her attention to tr’Ssaan once more. “Has Riov Eveik sent an official damage and casualty report?” The junior officer paled a lighter shade of green. “Official reports have not been able to be compiled yet, however they are na good. He has reported heavy causalities.” Sighing again, which she felt was the only constructive thing she’d managed to accomplish in the last twenty minutes, she again looked to the Erei’Riov. “Contact medical and take supplies and personnel with you as well.” “I have the secure uplink with Khre’Riov t’Jaelin, rehhkai.” “Elements," she said moving towards her chambers. "Inform me at once if there are any changes in status.”

MISSION BRIEF: Talon has escaped the nebula and is on course for the wormhole. Our our intrepid adventurers finally going to go home? 072910.txt

He hated this quadrant. Loathed it. Abhorred it. The Lloann’na, he heard, were calling it the great new frontier. It was, they said, a place where legends would be made and dreams fulfilled. What tripe. As far as the Daise’Erei’Riov of the Talon could tell, this quadrant and the portal which led to it, had brought nothing but pain and suffering to the Alpha Quadrant. It had been the source of the greatest war any now alive had witnessed, it had brought terror after terror to those ships who ventured into this quadrant. That terror had visited itself on the Talon as well. Glancing to the note he’d started to write on the mission report, he exhaled. They had escaped the nebula without incident and were now on final approach to the wormhole. He hoped that they could make the crossing without further incident, but he knew better than to be unprepared. Battle drills had commenced for the last week every other shift change. The crew hated them, but he knew that if the worst did happen, they would be prepared for anything. Engineering had been busy too. Ships systems were now almost fully repaired, and though their supply of torpedoes was running low, they had enough of arsenal to defend themselves. While they had also lost a large amount of the bounty of latnium from the accursed planet, there was still more than enough to reward the crew and more than enough to buy their way out of trouble back home. Home. The thought lingered in his mind. The crew was happy to be home, no doubt; and while he was personally happy to escape the quagmire of a quadrant, he had his own reservations about returning to ch’Rihan. Certainly he did look forward to the sight of the amethyst oceans, the smell of the salty breeze, and the warmth of the homesun shining upon his face. Yet, everytime he returned home, he found himself wanting to leave. There were so many burdens there. His family. His expectations. When they returned, there would be questions about the mission, about everything that had happened. He knew that his every decision both as Executive officer and particularly those he made as commanding officer would be questioned, scrutinized, and turned against him. He cared little for the power games that would be played, nor did he worry too much. He had acted in the spirit of the regulations of the Galae and acted with honor. If they choose to try to destroy him now, after all he had done – it would be their dishonor not his and he knew that time would vindicate him. It was almost funny, now that he thought of it, that he didn’t have to be on this infernal ship. He could have transferred. Could have mustered out. Could have taken the offer from the Tal’Shiar. Yet, he didn’t. He’d chose this path and the dangers that came with it. Why? Why?

Mission Briefing: It's been a few hours since the Talon had departed the nebula and engineerings repair of the cloak has been holding up well. No signs of other ships have shown up on sensors, but the possibility still exists, that we have a cloaked Kll'inghannsu ship shadowing our journey back to the wormhole. 072210.txt

There are mornings when I thank the heathen gods for Coffee. This is one of them.

Class: Alliance Type: Battleship Unit Run: 800 Commissioned: 2395-Current Dimensions: Length : 875 Beam : 345 m Height : 140 m Decks : 24 Mass: 4,205,000 metric tons Crew: 650 officers/enlisted + Flight Crews Armament: 3 x Class Y-II Disruptor Canon, total output 170,000 terawatts 2 x Class X-II Disruptor Canons, total output 60,000 terawatts 2 x Twin Class J-IV Multi-Vector Pulse-fire Disruptor Canon, total output 60,000 terawatts 12 x Class A Phaser Array, total output 60,000 terawatts 2 x Class C Rapid Fire Quantum Torpedo Launcher + 200 torpedoes 2 x Type S5-II Multi-Vector Plasma Torpedo Launcher +300 torpedoes 3 x Type S5 Burst Fire Plasma Torpedo Launcher + 100 torpedoes Defense Systems: Regenerative shield system, total capacity 3,800,000 TeraJoules Standard Duranium/Tritanium Double hull plus 5.5 cm Ablative Armor. High level Structural Integrity Field Class D-IV Cloaking Device Propulsion / Power Systems: Warp Propulsion and main power provided by a Class E-III Artificial Quantum Singularity core Impulse power provided by three impulse engines powered by four gravimetric turbines Maneuverability provided by a series of twelve surface mounted retro-thrusters pods [six retro-thrusters per pod] and a series of fourteen embedded RCS thruster quads Warp Speeds (TNG scale) Normal Cruise : 7.5 Maximum Cruise : 9.91 for 12 hours Maximum Rated : 9.99 for 8 hours. Diplomatic Capability: Grade IV Expected Hull Life 120 years Refit Cycle: Minor : 5 year Standard : 10 years Major : 20 years Design History: The Dominion War held many lessons for the Romulan Galae (Star Navy) as it was the first major conflict it had participated in since the Earth-Romulan War. Once the pride of the Galae, the aging D’Deridex had not faired well as front-line battleship (though it did prove an excellent platform as ground and fighter carrier.) Two classes were born out of that conflict – the N’mitirr and the N’Orexen. Both demonstrated lessons of the Dominion War, being smaller, sleeker and faster. However, their cost, along with a desire for a less military posture following the end of the Civil War kept their production numbers down. While a number (nearly 300) N’Orexens were completed, it was much smaller than the target of nearly 1000 that the Galae had set at the outset of her design. Likewise, only 100 of the N’mitirr class were built, far lower than its projected 500. If the Dominion War was a lesson in modern warfare, the proceeding Romulan Civil War was a trial by fire. The bloody conflict consumed massive resources on both sides and devastated an already undermanned force. The conflict saw nearly 65% of the Galae’s prewar fleet destroyed and by the end of the conflict had resulted in a nearly 42% loss of manpower. Faced with the prospect of having to depend on their new found allies (whom they did not trust) for defense, the newly reformed Senate commissioned the reconstruction of the Romulan Galae as a modern fighting force. The original design called for three new vessels to be developed and begin production within a ten year timeframe. To meet such an ambitious goal, the Galae began working with the Federation engineers to use common parts, design lineage, and new technologies that would have taken the Romulans much longer to develop on their own. The largest of three was to be called the Alliance-class and would fill the role of main-line battleship, taking the place of the D’Deridex, which were being retrofitted as heavy strike carriers; the second of the three would be the so-called “Grey Falcon,” filling the much needed role of frigates performing patrol/escort missions in tandem with the N’Orexen-class cruisers; the final of the three would exist in three separate variants and be known as the Nightingale-class, the first variant would be a scout and interceptor, while a second variant would serve as the primary platform for the Galae’s science operations, and the third and final variant would serve as a medical ship to replace the aging T’Kless-class that had been in service for over 100 years. While the original design had called for all three classes to use almost entirely common parts including a new M/AM warpcore to be built initially by the Federation until the Romulan manufacturing sector could be rebuilt, practical and political concerns resulted in the Alliance-class being more Romulan in origin than the other three. Combined with the desire of the Galae to bolster its frontline capability and the recent attacks on Federation manufacturing, the construction of the Alliance-class has overtaken the other two. The Alliance-class itself is an evolution of 70 years of Romulan shipbuilding. While smaller and more compact than a D’Deridex, it carries more offensive firepower, better warp geometry, and a host of features largely absent from even the newer N’Orexen design. Featuring numerous systems sourced from the Federation, such as their superior sensor arrays, transporter support systems, life support systems, holographic units, phaser and quantum torpedo launchers, and replicators; the Alliance-class also features a number of cutting edge Romulan technologies including more energy efficient disruptors, more energy efficient cloaking technology, upgrades to computer systems, energy transfer systems, and the first ship-board implementation of gravimetric turbines for impulse and secondary power.

Mission Briefing: While discussion centered around finding a place to power down the cloak so that Laehval and Pexil could work on repairs io of the science lackies that reported to tJhiin was assisting rhae the oria, however upon discussion with his superior, tRexan recognized his voice as io of those that had abducted, restrained and eventually led to her eventual yy'a. While challenging him on it, a fight ensued, and the oira crew took him into custody, taking the injured fvai to the brtehh. While rhae the oria, NDak started to question t'Jhinn's loyalty opening a whole other can of worms, about who was loyal when and to whom. 070110.txt

Destorie paused for a long moment outside the door of the chief science officer, nodding to the D'heno guard to allow him entrance. While he had another science officer to address, he felt the need to get this particular issue out of the way first, rather than let the issue fester. If he'd learned anything from this particular mission, it was that allowing the seeds of malcontent to root was exceptionally foolish, and he'd be damned if he repeated that mistake. Exhaling, he chimed the door. A few moments later, the door slipped open, revealing an unhappy-looking Sar'vek -- who looked even less pleased once she saw whom the visitor was. She recovered quickly, however, greeting him with a nod. "Rekkhai. And here I was hoping for word of my release." Entering, Destorie took a moment to note the decor. It was obvious she was a science officer and woman who took her position seriously. Also that she was not prone to mess. Ironic, he supposed. "Erei'Riov," he replied flatly. "That is tangently why I am here." "Tangently?" she asked, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow. "What else are you here for?" His arms were tucked nearly behind his back back. Despite the commotion, his uniform remained pressed and neatly in place. The ever rock-like jawline tightened momentarly as he looked her over. "To be entirely honest, I wish to know why you chose that particular moment to take to insubordination. On the overall, you've been a valued -- if not occasionally quiet member of the senior staff. I've come to expect such... insolence out of the Daise'D'heno, but you?" She shrugged. "It's a little stressful to suddenly have one of your department attack the Khre'Riov and then be revealed as a mutineer. I apologize for my timing." He lifted his brows slightly. "I suppose we all have been under some stress lately, ie?" "A little bit," she agreed, forcing a momentary smile. "Well I suppose I cannot fault you for that, but do remember that just because au are a senior officer does na give au license to be disrespectful rhae the Oira. Au actions reflect na only upon auself, but are guide posts for au own department." Softening slightly, he looked towards her. He felt her frustrations. In his youth he likely would have reacted much more strongly toward her act upon the bridge. Now, he told himself, he'd learned temperance. Control. Hadn't he? "I know that," she answered, curtly. "I'm aware of my responsibilities to my department. I'm also aware that that responsibility extends beyond being a 'role model'. The traitor is one of mine, and au had na right to deny me the right to see to his punishment -- or at the least observe it." "Au right?" he said more sharply than likely intended. "Au right does not give au reason to defy the authority vested in my position rhae the oira." "Whether or na I was correct in temporarily staying au own control of the traitor's destiny was na a subject of discussion for the Oira." "And au's authority does na give au the right to ignore mine." She straightened unconsciously, feeling her tenuous control on the fury that had been simmering dissipating rapidly. "And the Oira seemed like a perfect place to call into question my loyalty and suggest I was a traitor. Why not au's authority as well?" His jaw hardened. "As Daise'Erei'Riov," he said coldly. "It is my purview to decide jurisdiction of the treatment of officers who are being held for violations. This was na some mere act of insubordination, but an attempt on a flag officer's life. As for questioning au loyality, I merely stated that until I could clear au, that au would have no such input into the treatment of the traitor. It is standard procedure. And as for my right, au are a subordinate officer to me. The oira -- the command deck -- is not a location suitable for au to defy that authority vested in my position." Beneath the stone exterior, he felt the raging passion of his heart begin to race. This mission, it seemed, was set upon him by the elements to try his newfound temperance, to bring out of him once more that which had nearly destroyed him. "Au know damned well what the implication was," she hissed. "As if I needed any more suspicions cast my way after that. As if au have the right, superior officer or na, to make even a suggestion of treason in front of the whole Oira -- in front of t'Rexan na less. Tell me. Would au have preferred that we clear au after au had security officers who participated in the mutiny?" "Do not presume to have authority in this situation. And as I was na Daise'D'heno at the time of the mutiny, na. However, had I na been placed rhae their custody, it would be standard procedure, and I am sure upon reaching home I will be questioned by my superior officers as to how much knowledge I had leading up to the mutiny and how such a mutiny was able to ferment before my eyes." "I see. So have I been cleared yet? Are you satisfied that I'm not the traitor au have managed to imply that I am? Will I be released, or am I still being investigated?" she asked, scornfully, eyes burning with fury. "I never implied au were a traitor, merely that au had not yet been cleared. There is a difference, au know. This is na the Lloann'na, we do not presume guilt or innocence before hand," he said, with a touch of scorn. "Besides, au were not confined to au quarters because au were considered to be guilty or innocent but because of au insubordination." "I don't care about being confined. I care about the fact that you clearly underestimate the power of such implications; speaking what everyio was already thinking only helps cement the idea that I could have been involved." She looked away, shaking her head slightly. "Fvadt. I already have my share of enemies on this ship and I don't need au making more for me, while managing to undermine me at the same time. I apologize if I offended au's sense of authority, but au did nothing less -- and au did worse." Destorie lifted his brows. For a moment he considered a thought about a guilty conscience, but let it pass. "It was na my intent. However keep in my that it is not meerly my sense of authority but that of the Galae." Pausing for a moment he pursed his lips and his jaw softened. The coldness in his eyes seemed to dim for a moment. "Given what stress we've been under though, I do not see the sense in needlessly dragging this out or hampering your future career. "I am reasonably certain that au did not know about the traitor in your midst, it would be... difficult to have remembered hum as io of the mutineers in the first place, let alone sorting them out from the ones simply going along with the cause, however in the interest of due diligence I am obliged to conduct a review on the subject. "And in some ways I have not made that easy for anyio aboard this ship with my proclamation of amnesty for the mutineers who were not easily identified as being in the inner circle. I will have to conduct a review, but as I said I have no reason to believe au are a traitor auself." She nodded, slowly, and laughed again, though it had no humor in it. "The interests of due... diligence," she repeated, letting out another laugh as she leaned back against her desk. "I suppose that due diligence would fairly well describe au's efforts to prove auself worthy to," a pause, "t'Rexan. Regardless of who au have to drag through the muck to show au's fealty. The mutiny already occurred, under au's watch. This was an isolated incident, and in Command's eyes it will be eclipsed by the larger treason. Au's goal, then, must be to show au's great concern over the issue." For a moment, Sar'vek had a passing thought over whether the entire incident could have been engineered in order for t'Rexan's newly-zealous supporters to prove themselves to her, but it -- mostly -- passed quickly. "Au have a paranoid mind. I have little interest in proving myself 'worthy' to t'Rexan," he said emotionlessly. "I am bound by rules and regulations of the Galae. They instruct and guide me. It is the same due diligence I showed while acting as commanding officer and the same due dilgence I have always brought to this position. "When an attempt is made upon the life of a command officer, I am obligated to investigate the issue fully. Given the recent history of our ship, I am further obligated to assure that there is not a still larger conspiracy at work here. And as I said, while I have no reasonable doubt that au are not at fault, until such time as the review is conducted, it would be negligent to assume io way or the other. As for au right to be a party to his sentence, once I have conducted an investigation, and assuming au have been cleared, I will allow au to be a party to his sentencing as an agireved party. If au feel that I have damaged au honor, then I apologize and au are within au right to seek that honor cleared." "Au have," she answered, shortly, "and au have done a menkha job of it, too. H'nah." She took a deep breath, suppressing her desire to say more with a well-evolved sense of self-preservation. "I expect you will be informing me when I am cleared," she said, with subtle emphasis on the word. He held back on something and let the statement pass. "I will likely need a statement from au at some point about the disheren in question, but it need not be a verbal statment, written will suffice. In the mean time, I am authorizing your return to duty. As for au honor, you have my word that should any one question your loyality, I will deal with them myself. I do not wish to begin an inquisition aboard this ship, I meerly seek to assure justice is served. As I said, I did not intend to accuse you of anything." She nodded in thanks, forcing herself to appear more... placid. "I will have the statement within the hour, Rekkhai," she offered, jaw tensing slightly. "Very well, I will leave you to it. Bedah."

Mission Briefing: The Talon remains on course for the wormhole, at current speed, estimated to be but a miniscule 2 weeks away...compared to where they had been. We have been advancing under cloak, but due to the energy drain, will have to decloak shortly to revamp our depleted energy stores. While still trying to avoid any unwanted Klnn'hannsu attention. 062410.txt

Mission Briefing: The Talon, after letting the crew finish looting back from the pirate vessel, found themselves face to face with a Klingon Bird of Prey. Kllinghannsu that assumed that 'we' were the pirates, preying upon this little ship. Ordered to surrender, we of course refused, fired upon the Klinn'hannsu ship, and cloaked...moving off from them.. 061710.txt

For a long moment, the executive officer of the warbird Talon considered what deity he or the commanding officer of the vessel had possibly annoyed in some prior mission. There had been that business on Kata Manoya where he’d… no he’d paid for that by now surely? Or that time on Gavan IV… no no he’d paid for that as well. Sidelong, he glanced to the view screen filled with a Klingon Bird of Prey and then to the now much younger and much less bionic Khre’Riov t’Rexan. Exhaling he decided that with a woman as sour, often miserable, and cranky as her that it would be a futile effort to figure out which deities she’s ticked off, in fact it might be, he considered, easier to figure out which ones she hadn’t. He sighed and returned to the situation at hand. Blaming deities or elements for one’s situation, he’d found, was unhelpful. The only recourse was to simply move on with one’s life and make the best out of what was becoming an increasingly more horrible day, no week, no month. To be entirely honest, nothing about this entire mission had gone right, even when something had, someone had found a way to screw it up. Perhaps, he considered, they just weren’t meant to be in this damned quadrant. Nothing good had ever came out of it; and ever since the Lloann’na found the wormhole, filled with the Bajorans make-believe friends, nothing but trouble had befallen the Alpha quadrant. If there were gods or whatever mucky-muck – one might think that they were trying to send a signal to the Empire. Shaking his head as he ran his fingers over the tactical console to target the Bird of Prey, while simultaneously plan for multiple secondary targets to appear the moment they dropped the hammer, he remembered that his people were never ones to be deterred by the will of the Elements. Ever Rihan child grew up hearing stories of the Sundering. They were a people who had been formed from struggle and strife. Looking at the Klingon Bird of Prey and its putrid green (as opposed to the valorous green of the Talon) hull, N’Dak considered planning what needed done. Despite the uneasy peace, there had been border flare ups between the two empires. Now, in the depths of the dark quadrant, there was about to be another. The Talon had endured too much, came too far, to be stopped by a band of veruul now. Like their ancestors, they would suffer, they would bleed and die, but they would sunder home to glory and victory.

Mission Briefing: The Talon, irked by the brazen attack of the pirates have taken out the remainder of their little fleet, and have boarded the last ship to send a message back to their people to NEVER mess with us again. However, when they tried to make a power play and attempted to yy'a tJhinn and a few of the others, tRexan lost her patience and ordered them all yy'a, but one...and that io, she decided to leave to NDak as she returned to the ship. The boarding party was told to roust the ship, find what had been taken from others, and tRex didnt' care about small incidental finds, only those of large value, such as bars of latinum. 061010.txt

Mission Brief: NDak had just ordered a boarding party to go see what the pirates may have taken from other unwary travelers and on the Talon, Laeh had been having issues in the crawlspaces. 060310.txt

Mission Briefing: As the Talon is heading back to the Alpha Quadrant, a bit early, but due to circumstanes well within the parameters of the mission as well many of the crew find themselves doing a bit of soul searching, about where they are now, who they are siding with, who they belive is actually who, and making those back up plans in their heads o ensure, that they are able to survive yet another day, should they choose the wrong way... 050610.txt

Mission Briefing: As the crew makes repairs to the ship on it's way back towards the passage back to the Alpha Quadrant via the wormhole, others are working on making repairs with crew morale and relations. ETA to wormhole, approximately 5 weeks at Warp 6... 042910.txt

Will the crew accept t'Rexan as their Commander once more, or will they yy'a her an impostor clone and undue all of t'Ksa's hard work? Find out! 042210.txt