NDak

Mission Briefing: The Talon is in the process of cleaning itself of clones and repairing the ship. NDak, has just vaporized trBatel when he want to destroy what he percieved as a cloned tRexan. 040110.txt

Mission Briefing: Taking back the ship and repairing it enough to head home! Kill the clones! 032510.txt

Mission Briefing: Repairs are begiinning to be completed on various stages of the Automated repair facility. Though some of the crew were understandagly still sceptical others are just thankful that the repair is being done so that they can start heading home sooner 021110.txt

Mission Briefing: As repairs are ongoing by the repair facility, many nearing completion, the crew has been relaxing and partaking of the stations hospitality. Rooms to sleep, rest and eat have been made available, as well as medical scans and treatment. 020410.txt

The crew is still taking advantage of the station as the various parts of the ship are being repaired 012810.txt

Tragedy strikes during repairs at the automated facility when t'Aehjae "accidentally" kills t'Random, who shares a rare-blood type with t'Rexan and could hold the key to her recovery, leaving t'Aehjae's fate in her once subordinate, cum commanding officer's hands. 011410.txt 012110.txt

Mission Briefing: The RES Talon is sorting out who is and who isn't guilty at the moment. Crew members look sidelong at each other, wondering just who by them, helped in this plot. NDak has had a few rounded up already to questions, most of the others the crew yy'a while regaining the ship. Koga and Pexil were testing the revised cloaking device, which failed. Laehval has relinquished command of engineering for now to Pexil. tJhiin, so far has not been questioned by anyone and tAehjae and trGuard are watching over the KhreRiov's stasis chamber as tKsa had to run to find NDak. 121009.txt

Happy belated b-day!

Across a simple table stared two male Romulans of formative stature; neither appeared willing to bend towards the others will to even so much as to offer the other salutation. Finally, the more slight of the two, who wore the rank sash of a Daise’Erei’Riov, opened his mouth to speak. “Arrain Hajan Gavel,” Destorie said in a voice colder than most vacuums. “Through the course of investigation…” Gaval had been passively glancing around the room for the better part of an hour, waiting for N’Dak to grace him with his presence. As N’Dak began to rattle off the charges against him, he leaned back into his chair and listened, only mildly more attentively than most teenagers did when being scolded for staying out past curfew. At some point, Gaval had heard more than enough of the arrogant, pompous ass’ pedantry. “Are you trying to bore me into a confession?” N’Dak stopped mid-sentence and glowered at the traitorous Arrain. “Na, simply detailing to au exactly how guilty au are for the official record.” “Ah,” Gaval said with a smug smile. “I see. Well, by all means, carry on. I am sure you’re just going to kill me in a few hours anyway in some terribly drool production meant to strike fear into the hearts of anyone else who would dare challenge the all mighty t’Rexan or her lap-dog N’Dak.” “Her lap-dog,” Destorie said, nearly laughing. “That’s cute.” “Ever since au took the position of executive officer, au have been little more than her servant, at her beck and call, doing her bidding, carrying out her ridiculous orders. I bet au did na even bother to point out to her what a horrible idea this entire mission was for fear that she might whip au again!” “Au really do na know me, Arrain.” “On the contrary,” he said. “I know that au bend easily to the will of those who hold power over au.” Again N’Dak nearly broke out laughing but kept the emotional outburst under the surface. “As I said, au do na know me well at all. However, I did na come down here to discuss with au my relationship with the Khre’Riov, I came to discuss au role in the mutiny, which I have detailed.” Gaval looked away, displeased they were returning to this subject again. “Very well, au may continue to prattle on.” The force of the back of N’Dak’s hand against his mouth caught him truly off-guard, and the taste of coppery blood in his mouth was bitter and acrid. “I know that you planned this from the start,” N’Dak said, “and that tr’Mrek was doing your bidding.” “Very good,” Gaval said. “Always good to insulate yourself, though I suppose I did not do it well enough… obviously.” Severe was usually the best word to describe Destorie N’Dak, and now was little different. “Obviously,” he said. “Perhaps you should have chosen more wisely among the crew for your little conspiracy. They gave you up very quickly.” Gaval rolled his eyes. “Most of your crew is very weak willed.” If it were supposed to be an insult it didn’t phase him. “So why don’t we get down to what I really want to know.” Genuinely interested, Gaval finally gave N’Dak his full attention. “What is it that you don’t know already then?” “Just why the Tal’Shiar would pick such an incompetent fool as their plant aboard the ship.”

Mission Briefing: As NDak and the rest of the crew are trying to get matters back in hand now that they've retaken control of the ship from the mutineers, they still face the long trip home limited to warp 3 or less due to the patched hull, and it's coating of latinum around that patch. That, or they will still need to find some type of repair facility where we can put in for major repairs and not get the rest of the latinum stolen as well. For the time being, NDak has seen fit in his first command decision, to grant Laehval a temporary pardon, hoping she'll help him get the ship under control while in medbay, the KhreRiov is in stasis, and t'Ksa just noticed a shadow from the corner of her eye. 120309.txt

Jolan tru!

In keeping with t'Rexan posting old logs, something new and exciting! t'Rexan is currently in stasis, desprately in need of a blood transfusion as while they were knocked out, she had been laying there bleeding out. tKsa didnt' even have time to try to save her, but put her right into the box until she could devise a plan of action. In the meantime, NDak has taken command, and has ordered Sbien to go see that Laehval was arrested and brought to him. 111909.txt

Mission Briefing: The mutineers have taken control of most of the ship, many easily swayed by going along just to get home, some to get home with some latinum, and some just happy to be rid of the commadn team that they had. The crew has been separated out, and they have approached Laehval to be an integral part of their team to get home. Though unknown to her, t hey plan to put her to a loyalty test soon enough. NDak injured in his pride, is now sulking in the corner of his cell not talking to anyone. 110509.txt

This is what it had come to? Destorie stood in stunned silence as they led him into innoxiously barren crew quarters somewhere below decks where the mutinous fvadt were holding t’Rexan for her apparent execution at the hands of Laehval t’Temarr. The elements, it seemed, had a sense of irony and perhaps that had surprised the Daise’Erei’Riov the most. If io were the gambling sort, how many people would have bet that N’Dak would be the one holding the life of t’Rexan in his hands instead of the engineer? The question echoed emptily in his head. Despite his own life being on the line, he could not help but wonder if he’d deeply misread the woman who would now decide his fate. Throughout his tenure aboard the vessel, they’d had their share of differences – including an incident that landed him in the medical bay—but they’d also developed a professional relationship built upon mutual respect and an understanding that they should let each other do their own jobs. Aside from that, he’d also gotten brief glimpses into the inner workings of a woman’s whose soul burned with the fire of a nova, but emanated the icy chills of space. She was formidable. Of that, there could be no doubt. He also knew she’d been t’Rexan’s choice for the position he now inhabited, and that if she’d wanted it – could have had her own command by now; and therein lie what he now questioned – her ambition. Laehval had never, in his knowledge of her, shown ambitions towards command. By her own admission, she cared only for her engines and little more. Now though, with power so readily at her finger tips, had the sweet seduction and caress of its touch grabbed hold of her? Ambition. Destorie thought as he glanced silently towards Laehval and the pitiful t’Rexan. He knew much about that tempestuous lover. The desire and the will to power hand long been the undoing of sons and daughters of the House of N’Dak and he knew all too well the power it held over him. Yet, when he looked into Laehval’s eyes, even now as she stood with kaleh in hand, ready to drive the sharp blade into the heart of a woman who’d caused them both so much pain, he did not see his old lover. That both frightened and thrilled him. Perhaps she was merely getting rid of t’Rexan, avenging age old grievances and would return the ship to him. He stopped himself as he felt the subtle feelings of hunger sweep over him in a tingling sensation. Was he so enthralled with ambition and vengeance that he cared not for t’Rexan’s fate if it brought him what he’d desired for so long? Then the creeping doubt of her motives pulled him away from his ecstasy. Though a slave to his ambitions, he also had a well-honed survival instinct; and as suddenly as the rush of passion had taken him in fully and filled his thoughts with the lust for its warm embrace, it escaped and nothing but a cold void and uncertainness remained. The icy chills of fear began tickling up his back and his lip quivered as a convulsion churned in his stomach.

MISSION BRIEFING: Mutiny!!! The crew, having been rushed by the mutineers who do not want to give up their latinum and want to go home, now face what to do join them, or be confined. tREx, is missing, and NDak, tJhiin and tA have already been taken away from the main room. 102209.txt

Mission briefing: tRexan has called a meeting of her main officers to help decide their next course of action: return home as is damaged and slowly with the latinum, find repair and head home, hoping that those assisting us, do not take us to the cleaner or hide the latinum in this secluded area, find repair, then come back to retrieve the latinum to return to ch'Rihan. t'Rexan has left the room to let the crew discuss options. 101509.txt

Mission Briefing: While engineering is hard at work temporarily patching out newly ripped open hull, yet taking care around the latinum coated plating, others have been working on recovering any larger amounts of latinum they can find floating in nearby space. It's foregone that much is too small to recover as well. In the meantime, antoher team is on the bridge, trying to determine which way we should go, to try to fine a repair facility, and head that way. 100809.txt

Mission Briefing: Several of the crew are on visible recon of the surrounding sectors, looking to recover any larger quantities of the lost latinum that they can find. In the meantime, Engineering is working on patching the tear in our hull, and yet, admiring the surrounding latinum coated plating. Morganna has joined tRexan rhae the oira in an attempt to pour over some star maps hoping to find a likely route towards an inhabited area and hopefully, a repair facility. 100109.txt

Mission Brief: Several of the crew were sent out to find out where the biggest concentration of the latinum could be found. Others where in charge of HOW to recollect is once it was found. Eng was continuing repairs. 092409.txt

Mission Briefing: The Talon is working to recover from being hit by the huge shockwave caused by the ancient weapon on the half buried ship. The crew so far has found that Ditsy isn't' quite herself, and may h ave a crush on trKhev, even though she's wondering about all her Koga paraphernalia. Leah and Pexil have found a nasty hole in our hull, which unfortunately has sucked out approximately 1/3of the latinum that we had collected and not only was it sucked out, but the shock wave has blown that latium into tiny pellets throughout the entire area of the space around use. As an added insult, part of our hull is now coated in latinum that harded against it in the cold of space, much like a bad paint spill on a highway. The crew has been told that we are to see to crew health and safety first, work on patching the hole the best we can until we can find a repair facility and for science, to start working on a way to scan for as much of the latinum as possible and determine if ther is a way to somehow <pan for gold> and sweep up the loose latinum 091709.txt

Having castigated the d’heno staff for not following orders, Destorie N’Dak exhaled deeply and collected his thoughts, focusing on the task at hand. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of the five thousand things that now needed done. There were probes and science material to be moved; there were thirty fifty liter barrels of liquid latnium to be inspected; there were injuries to be tended to and thus duty rosters to be adjusted; there were sensor nods to be replaced (again); and there was a huge gaping hole in the cargo bay and latnium stuck to the hull of the ship. Running his hands through his still bald head, N’Dak exhaled and looked over the ISD in his hand again. The inspection was his first priority, d’heno had started working on moving the equipment out of cargo bay three and Ksa was still working on the medical report. Glancing towards a short, stocky Engineering who’d been called up to help with the inspection Destorie switched from his ISD to a multicorder. “Alright crewman, let’s get started. Scan for any structural damages with the container and make sure the latnium is unspoiled.” The round-faced Romulan nodded and began running his multicorder over the first barrel, opposite of Destorie. “Quite a mess down here, Erei’Riov, na?” The sober, sever executive officer rarely mingled with junior officers, let alone an enlisted crewman and the attempt at small talk caught him off guard entirely. After a moment staring at him aimlessly, N’Dak responded. “Ie,” he said, regaining his voice. “Elements only know what deity we’ve annoyed this time.” The engineer chuckled. “I know the Daise will have some choice words, I heard the sensor nods are fried again, after we spent all that time replacing them all when we had those leaches or whatever they were.” “I am sure she’ll have choice words about the hull breach as well.” The both exchanged glances and returned to working. An hour later they met half way and found that only one of the barrels had been damaged and the latnium transferred to another container. That was an improvement. Nodding to the heavy-set engineer, whose name he’d learned was Anen tr’Lokan, and who, as it turned out, was born into a house that was actually distantly related through clan lineage, N’Dak moved away from the barrels and noted the information on his ISD. Heading out of the room he brought up the casualty report from the ever efficient t’Ksa and noted again, happily, it wasn’t as bad as it could be, only a few bumps and bruises, but enough to make small adjustments to the roster schedule. Making a note to work on them later, he began looking over the report from Sar’vek on the effort to recover latnium and how much work that was going to be. Exhaling he decided to head to the mess to grab something cold and a bite of lunch, having skipped breakfast this morning.

Mission Brief: Talon escaped the blast that apparently leveled the planet, but not without damage. Sensors are still whacked and we have a small, but contained hull breech. 091009.txt

Happy Birthday To Me Mission Briefing: The Away team is still investigating the ancient ship they had unearthed, being 'extremely careful' not to trigger the massive explosive that is tucked away in it's cargo hold. On the ship, the work of science and engienering have let the computer start to decode several of the data disks that were found, and NDak had gotten the excavation team to start moving the first round of latinum extracted to the ship 082709.txt

Mission Briefing: When we last left off, the Away Team digging at the excavation site beside the volcano has discovered the remains of a mostly buried ship. The ship by means of the etrehh, appears to date about 2000 years old, but is not that much technologically behind our own. While exploring the ship, an object appearing to be some sort of explosive device had been found, initial indications were that this incendiarly device could pretty much blow up most of the surrounding area. Back on the ship, small snippets of logs were being extracted from the data chips 081309.txt

A pale moonless night had fallen upon Jesan, City of Order. Troyius’ lone moon – Achilen – was in the new moon cycle and was invisible to the eye. The once dusty plains that were now a string of glass and steel buildings lighting the landscape stood eerily quiet. From the heart of the city, Government Center, Defense Minister Atrin Yalon stared aimlessly into the depths of darkness just beyond the city lights. “The Elasians have yet to respond to our demands,” he said. “While not surprising, their lack of action is… I never dreamed they’d show such…” “Restraint?” Yalon turned to face the man who’d graced his office more than any other as of late. He had grey hair pulled back neatly around his scalp. Pointed ears and dusky olive skin gave away his biology quickly. Nodding, Yalon continued. “Yes, they are normally so rash. I thought for sure that we’d be at war by now.” The Romulan nodded. “To be honest, so did I. The Elasians have ever shown themselves to be so willing to commit to any conflict, especially one against your people.” “And now this…” Outwardly displaying a sympathetic façade, Aheri tr’Klaeinfar nodded. Inwardly he felt a twinge of pleasure. The Troyians were playing right into his hands. Even if the plan had not gone exactly according to the script, he felt that the objective could still be achieved, hence his continued presence. “It is as I told you,” he said. “The Federation cannot be trusted. They turned their back on you’re the moment they go the chance. Charging into your space on the story of seeing to their Ambassador here, something they don’t even have at the moment.” “There can be little doubt they were spying,” Yalon said with a heavy sigh. “But working with the Elasians… it’s just hard to fathom.” “You should fathom it. Not only did were they spying, but they refused to leave your space. Showing them you were not afraid to defend your territory was a wise decision.” Yalon wasn’t sure he agreed. The Elasians they could deal with, but the Federation? It didn’t take an expert on war to know that the Troyian Navy was no match for Starfleet. “We are no match for the Federation, I do hope that your government will remember what sparked that little engagement in the first place, Commander.” Klaeinfar perked a brow in similar fashion to his ‘couins’ and smiled slightly. “I will remind you, Minister that the decision to engage the Cepheus was yours and yours alone. I did not ask you to offer protection to the Terrible Gale.” Exhaling Yalon considered disputing the Romulan’s version of events but decided it not worth his effort and decided on something more pressing. “To be honest I am not sure what our next move will even be, Commander.” A true look of concern filled the Romulan’s face. “You are considering abandoning your ambitions?” “The Federation have complicated this, and if your Empire is unwilling to openly support us…” “The Federation will not become involved in your war with the Troyians. They hide behind their prime directive…” “Are they the ones hiding?” Yalon asked pointedly. “I seem to recall three of my starships being destroyed by a Starfleet ship before being saved by another of their vessels who arrived with the Elasian flagship in tow. It seems, Commander, they are not as bound by the prime directive as you would have us believe.” Scoffing, Klaeinfar leveled a glare at the Troyian. “Minister,” he said firmly. “I assure you that you have the full support of the Romulan Senate behind you…” “I’ll note you said the Senate and not your vaunted Star Navy,” Yalon said. Unsure if that was supposed to be the insult it was or if the Troyian simply chose his words poorly, Klaeinfar decided to go with the later, for now. “Atrin, my people have been behind you all this time. Helping you develop the means to free yourself from the vassalage of the Federation. Do you honestly think we’d abandon you now? Now that you stand on the verge of declaring your independence in a bold stroke and on the eve of vanquishing your hated rival, the Elasians? “Of course we wouldn’t. Troyius is a friend of the Senate, and Romulans neither make nor cast aside our friends easily or lightly. We will stand with you and help continue to nurture you into people that others fear. A proud and independent race, respected throughout the quadrant…” Yalon had served his empire for many years. He was a veteran of the Elasian-Troyian Wars, and had served as a member of the negotiating teams between the Elasians and the Troyians when the Federation had mediated the cessation of hostilities. He recalled then, as he suddenly did now, the silver-tongued platitudes of the Federation diplomats. His eyes seemed to burn when he looked directly at the Romulan. “The Federation,” he said bitterly. “Once promised us the same. They said if we ended our war on their terms that they would bring peace and prosperity to our people.” “And what did the jackals bring you?” Ignoring the question and continuing on, Yalon’s voice grew hard as granite. “In the last months of the war, the Elasians had taken the Prosperity system from us. Though we had fought hard, the weapons the Klingons had covertly given them proved difficult to overcome. Millions of my people lost their lives, Commander. Millions.” “And the Federation let them keep it?” “Yes,” he said. “They told us that sacrifice was required to bring peace between our people. They told us that if we accepted that peace, we’d be welcomed into their Federation with open arms. Now it is twenty years later and we are still only associates. They have not helped us one bit, but the lives of my people were forfeit for that promise.” Klaeinfar nodded, not entirely sure where this was going. “Commander, you say your people want to help us. You told me that some lives would have to be lost in order for our goal of a free and independent Troyius to be accomplished.” With a sickening feeling of where this was headed, Klaeinfar nodded. “Yes, I did tell you that.” “If you lie to me, as the Federation has lied… mark my words. No Tal’Shiar, no fleet of starships will keep you safe. My people stand now on the brink of disaster. If our provocation of the Elasians leads to a conflict with Starfleet we will undoubtedly fall, and fall quickly. If you are the instrument that has visited this upon us, I will seek vengeance upon you and your house even if I must do it with my last burning breath.” Trying to recall if the Minister had ever shown this much passion and failing, Klaeinfar nodded. He declined to point out that all he’d done was simply point in a direction; the true instrument of the destruction of Troyius was the minister himself, something no doubt his empire wouldn’t fail to point out. Deciding that change of subject was in order, Klaeinfar motioned the window and on towards the star-filled sky. “So what will be your next move, Minister? A full scale invasion? Now that the Federation has abandoned their neutrality…” Fire still in his eyes, Yalon shook his head. “A few hours before the altercation with the Cepheus we received a coded transmission from the Elasian’s. The Lord Regent wishes to treat with us to discuss terms to end hostilities between us. As I understand it, he does so without the authority of the Council.” “Interesting, it does show a sign of weakness on their part, that the highest ranking military leader would take such a risk.” “Our spies also tell us that the Dohlman is unwilling to go to war as well…” “Your spies?” The look on Klaeinfar’s face was genuine surprise. “Yes, our spies…” “And when were you planning on telling me you had someone inside the highest echelons of the Elasian command?” A slightly rueful glance took the place of determination, besting the Romulan was a small pleasure. “It hadn’t seemed important to fill you in.” Scornfully, Klaeinfar glowered. “I cannot properly advise you, Minister, if you withhold pertinent information.” “Perhaps,” the Troyian minister said. “As I said it hadn’t seemed pertinent, but now that we’re such close friends and dare I say…allies…” Was that sarcasm? Klaeinfar softened his outward expression but was starting to boil on the inside. He also began to worry. What else did the Troyians know? Had the Federation snared them into a setup? That thought caused a momentary glance of horror to wash over his face and he worried if Yalon saw it. If he did, however, he didn’t react to it. “So you mean to treat with him, even though he lacks the authority?” “He is, as you said, one of their highest ranking military leaders. If the Lord Regent of the Rohland forges an agreement with us that prevents war his Council will honor it.” Klaeinfar almost growled, but kept himself in check. “And your people will accept it?” “Of course they will, so long as we come to an agreement favorable to Troyius.” “And the Federation? How do you…” “With luck,” Yalon said, cutting the Romulan off. “With luck our effort to seek a peaceable end with the Elasia will staunch the wound we’ve created…” “You do not mean to reconcile with them…after all we’ve done for you.” Throwing a dangerous glance in his direction, as if that had wounded him personally, Yalon shook his head. “Of course not. I am a man of my word. My people seek to be free and independent, and we will not soon forget what Romulus has done for us, so long as Romulus stand by us, as you have said they will.” Breathing easier now, Yallon nodded. “Good, good. I was worried there for a moment, Minister. You have come to be a rather amicable companion and I would hope to keep you as such.” Smiling, though it seemed a bit unholy, Yalon nodded. “Likewise, Commander. I hope you remember what I said though. Troyians do not abide betrayal well…”