NDak

XO's Note: Sorry for getting this up late. Mission Briefing: Results of the planetary scans have brought the crew a wealth of new information. We've discovered that a sizable city, though somewhat primitive in nature, lies buried beneath the lava flow. We've found that the latinum vein flows from the base of the volcano towards the buried city. And some sort of metalic refuse has been picked up in the same area. The crew is investiageing the energy weapon, and trying to decode the dat chips and tKsa has reported that the bodies from the island are typically yy'a adult men, all of which have had their skulls caved in. We pick up with our investigations. 071609.txt

Mission Briefing: The crew continues to investigate the mysterious Latinum Temple, and the island of smashed skulls with the biggest of the new mystery -- an energy weapons and data chip that have been found, which are totally out of place with anything else they've found here 070909.txt

Mission Briefing: Investigation into the mass grave on the island continue, while the main team presses forward with the excavation, debating if this were the main building, or if more of the buried city was also covered with latinum. As tKsa determines the cause of death of those in the mass grave, the engineers have found what appears to be some sort of primative energy weapon and data storage chip. 070209.txt

Mission Briefing: Many of the crew were enjoying the feast well into the night, while others quietly retired following their meal to catch up on some well needed sleep. The mystery of the broken skulls still remained, the bag of skulls beside tRexan's cot, and others taken back to the ship with the sleeping tKsa. Work will continue with the rising sun 062509.txt

Mission Summary | July 17, 2008 The Talon finished loading the final supplies aboard for their crew-chosen year-long mission to the Gamma Quadrant. t'Rexan and N'Dak spoke briefly about the mission while the final supplies we loaded. Once they were, t'Rexan ordered the Talon to set off on her mission and head for the Neutral Zone and eventually Deep Space Nine, leaving the Oira to N'Dak while she headed to medical to speak to t'Ksa about, among other things, the progress of tr'Khev, who was stocking phaser riffles and other D'heno supplies. On the Oira, tr'Jhiin and S'bein spoke briefly about their thoughts on spies before the conversation was curtailed by the Daise'Erei'Riov. S'bein reported that the new communication equipment was functioning well, and tr'Jhiin began working on plans for scans of Federation space while the Talon passed through. Pexil and Laehval chatted while supervising in Engineering. As we paused Talon was 18-hours away from the Neutral Zone, though they have at least obtained clearance to cross and head to Deep Space Nine. Chatlog: http://www.stsf.net/forums/index.php?showtopic=16461

June 18 With BBQ well underway, musing continued while a juggling exposition started. t'Rexan and Company returned, while Laehval took to the beach for some isolation. Meanwhile an assassination attempt was made on tr'Khev, the culprit was identified when she made a second attempt on her life, but not before, unknowns to the crew she, or someone working for her, poisoned some of the ale brought down for the festivities.

Mission Brief: We left off with NDak, having read the riot act to many of the crew after having dispatched a few thieves. Then, Leah showed him how to really dress down crew as she put the fear of Laeh into their lives if they even thought about looking at anything shiny. Many of the others were about to partake in the feast that had been prepared, and tKsa, S'Bien, tAehjae and tRexan were returning from the far coastal island upon which they had found some sort of mass grave with many of the skulls appearing to have been caved in with a blunt weapon. The mystery has expanded..... 061809.txt

Rows of minarets lined the squared off edges of the central building in the Temple City of Ela that rose from the ground in bricks of gold and hand cut crystal into central building formed atop a quincunx of towers. For generations it had housed both the primary court of the Dohlman as well as the chambers of the Council of Nobles. Jaj’Lon or “Heart of the Planet” was at the figurative and near literal center of the politics that dictated life for the Children of Elaa. That statement held true especially today. As the gentle sea breezes swept into the open windows of the ocular chamber room atop the central tower the fate of two empires swung in the balance pushed by fate, emotion, and chance. “This latest provocation by the Troyians cannot be tolerated!” Shouted a man dressed in light grey robes adorned with simple golden weaving. “They have gone too far.” Across and a few seats down from the grey-robed Elasian, another man – dressed in a dark black tunic and pants suit rose and placed his hands flatly against the carved marble table that rose from the floor. “We cannot simply stand by while they invade our sovereign territory and take hostage our citizens, let alone a member of the nobility.” “I agree with your sentiments,” the disembodied voice of Aon N’Dak said from his projection. “But Marshall Asaoln, are you prepared to commit the lives of the citizens of Isan to this conflict?” Isan, still standing nodded. “Isan has never been one to shy away from conflict, let alone one with those vile Troyians.” Further down the table, a deeply tanned middle aged female Elasian in a white and blue dress lifted a hand. Lakina, First Counselor of the Corineth rarely interjected herself into the more petty arguments of her fellow council members, but this wasn’t a petty argument. “With due respect to King Athormin,” she said motioning to a grey-bearded man sitting near the middle. “Perhaps we should reconsider the diplomatic option?” “I am keen to agree with the First Counselor,” another female voice added. Everyone, including the projection of the Lord Regent lifted their brows. Entering the room was another Elasian female; her simple white chiton flowed as she moved and the gold diadem’s sole gem – a dilthium crystal – cast prisms across the room as she moved. The Elasians still sitting at the table rose and bowed their heads respectfully as the Dohlman made her way to empty chair at the head of the table and seated herself before nodding for the rest of the council to follow suit. “Council,” she said. “As you know it is rare for me to address this council directly, I have always preferred to leave politics to those of you who live and breathe them, however…” “With respect, Dohlna…” Her deep, dark eyes locked onto the gray-robbed man who’d dared interrupted her. “Satrap Omalli,” she said her voice razor sharp. “Do not forget that you are here only at the will of the Dohlman… it would be best if you did not interrupt me in attempt to tell me what I should or should not be doing as the leader of my people.” Omalli blinked several times and mentally made himself close his gapping. “Forgive me Dohlna I did not mean any disrespect.” Those gathered in the room were equally at a loss for words. In the past five years, Elaan of Troyius had graced their meetings rarely. And when she had, she’d never been so forceful. “Members of the Council,” she finally said. “I have served as the Dohlman of my people for many years. I have sacrificed much. I gave my happiness for my people and married a man whom I could never love and lived unhappily on Troyius for many years. I did that in the name of peace. “Now you stand ready to ruin that sacrifice, and to throw the lives of our people into mortal danger and war over pride.” “Your highness,” Athormin said his face flushing. “This is not over pride, this is over my son. He is sitting in a cell, likely being tortured by those blue-skinned bastards. Perhaps if you had not lived your life in the comfort of palaces and underst…” Elaan glowered. “You forget your place,” she said coldly. “Do not lecture me on comfort. Living with those vile, pompous, arrogant people was torture in and of itself and I do not wish to condemn any of my people to such a fate, let alone your own flesh. However, I refuse to send the people whom I am sworn by the Mother Elaa herself to protect into a war over a single individual. Were your son not among those captive, would you still be so eager for war?” Athormin pursed his lips and remained silent. “They have invaded our space,” Aon finally interjected himself. “We cannot simply let this matter go and give them ransom for our citizens; it would be an open invitation for further aggression, your highness.” “I must agree,” the till then quiet gold and black robed male wearing an circlet formed from golden eagle wings said. “The Dohlman is correct when she says that we should not so blindly throw ourselves into war, especially since the Klingons may or may not be able to provide us with support as they have done in the past …” “Yes, but from what we’ve seen outside of Prosperity, Prince Galo,” a white robbed and turbaned man spoke up. “The Federation is not backing their Troyian allies entirely either.” “That does not mean we should throw ourselves headlong into a conflict,” Elaan said. “We must consider the larger implications.” “Then what would you have us do?” “We must reconsider our options, open a dialog with the Troyians… perhaps the Fed…” “Your faith in the Federation is misplaced,” Asaoln growled. “They were more than happy to help us broker the last treaty, but they neglected us time and time again in favor of the Troyians. How can we place our trust in someone who is allied with them?” Frowning Elaan stood from her chair. “When this council was formed,” she said. “The Great Mother Ela intended us to work together for the betterment and protection of our people. She tasked us to work for the greater good of our people. By going to war now, when all options have not been exhausted, are we doing that?” A long silence provided the room. “In my lifetime, I have never used my reserve powers over this council, and I would do so only as a last resort, just as we must only use force when we have exhausted all other options. However, if you force my hand… I will do as I see fit… I bid you well, all. I leave this matter to you solve as best you think, but heed my words, Elasian blood is not to be shed until all avenues have been exhausted.” With that Elaan made her way out of the chambers, leaving them in stunned silence. After a few moments, Asaoln of the Isan spoke up. “Surely she cannot expect to tie our hands and put the safet…” “Asaoln,” Prince Galo said. “I do not have to remind you that she is our leader, we must obey her.” Frowning, Asaoln finally nodded his acceptance. “Still...” “I think, perhaps, I have an idea.” They looked to the project of Aon N’Dak with interest. “Oh?” “Leave it to me… but if I should fail, our forces must be ready to act. And you, Galo, get in contact with the Klingon Ambassadors and see what their position is…” --- Steel and concrete dotted the landscape of the administrative capital of the Troyian Empire –Jesan. Modern, clean, and inherently ordered, the avenues of Jesan lead to a glass and steel rectangle that rose fifty floors above the city. Every surface in the city was smooth and orderly, every edge perfectly cut. Built in the days after the Troyian-Elasian War had come to an end, the city of Jesan was to symbolize a new era for the Troyian people, a symbol of modernity and galatic standing. And though the figurative heart of the empire remained in the city of Lavelin where the ancient Imperial Palace stood surrounded by manicured gardens, the brain of Troyius lay in the banks, business headquarters, research centers and government buildings of Jesan. Today that brain was overtaxed. Rain fell in the far off distant mountains that sat on the horizon of Jesan and would soon make its way to the City of Order, as its inhabitants called it. In Government Center, a blue skinned male looked out from his forty-fifth floor office at the looming clouds. First Minister of Defense Atrin Yalon placed his arms behind his grey and white pinstripe suited back. “When we build this city,” he said continuing to look past his reflection. “There was little here but dirt and scrub.” “And look at it now,” a voice said behind him. “Your people must be rather proud of yourselves.” “We have accomplished much…” “With the help of the Federation.” “On our own,” Atrin said quickly. “The Federation has been our partner yes…” “But you saw how quickly they were willing to abandon you when it suited their needs. Challenger and Cepheus did not bother to lift a finger during the engagement outside of Prosperity. And now they make port in an Elasian city.” Atrin sighed heavily and glanced briefly towards the simple charcoal flooring before averting his eyes to the coming rains once more. “As I said… has been…” “So your Premiere too my…your advice then?” “Yes,” the Troyian said with a heavy effort. “As of 1300 hours, Earth-time, the Troyian Empire will have formally withdrawn from our treaty with the Federation.” “And Ga-Gaol?” “That… that’s a more complicated matter.” “How so? I would have thought taking the asteroid base along the Elasian border would have all but ended that agreement.” “In theory,” Atrin said. “In theory it should have, but the Elasians have yet to formally respond to our request to cede the territory according to the treaty’s clause for disputed territory or our demand for the ransom of the prisoners we’re holding.” “Most curious.” “Indeed.” “I assume your government is prepared for a counter-strike?” “Yes.” “Well then, I am sure that the Elasians won’t waste much more time in doing something. Knowing them, they likely were caught so off guard that it will take them a while to respond. Which is why if…” “I know you think we should have hit them harder initially but…” “But?” “The Premiere and the rest of the civilian leadership was loathe take major action, least the Elasians actually don’t have the stomach for war. And the crown was hesitant to even back what we did.” “How woefully inefficient.” “Give it a few more hours… you’ll get your war.” “How can you be so sure?” “Because the Elasians are a brutal, blood thirsty people who’ve only ever needed the thinnest of pretense for fighting, let alone us capturing one of their bases and demanding ransom for some of the captives.” “Well then,” the voice said. “If you’ll excuse me Minister, I have a pressing engagement.” “Of course, I’ll let you know when we know anything else.” Behind him, Atrin heard the doors close shut as his visitor left and he glanced only briefly towards the doors before returning once more to the window, where the smallest drops of rain had begun to collect against the glass windows. In the hallway two figures exchanged glances before heading towards the elevators in the center core of the building. “Do they know who they’ve captured?” “Not that I can ascertain.” “Curious.” “In deed.” “I would have thought for sure the Elasians would play more easily into our hands, considering who was stationed there.” “It is most… surprising. Perhaps we underestimated their desire for peace?” One of them scowled at the other. “You do not believe that.” “I suppose not. But perhaps the Federation played a larger role than we had anticipated.” “Perhaps. We should look into this, if the Federation is playing a larger role and attempting to play peacemakers, it could disrupt the entire operation.” “Agreed.”

June 11 N'Dak's BBQ began in earnest while Laehval lashed her crew severely. Meanwhile the Khre'Riov's teams continued to explore the strange find of mutilated bones of natives.

Mission Briefing: NDak's team has had to dispatch a set of thieves, that thought to steal some of the latinum for themselves and it's put a bit of a damper on the fun of the BBQ N'Dak is hosting on the shores. Meanwhile the other team is investigating the trench full of skeletons that they have found. 061109.txt

June 4 With the lower levels cleared of traps and finally ventilated, the senior officers remaining at the original excavation site have a confab at the mess tent to discuss how they'll be going forward; meanwhile the rest of the senior staff heads to meet t'Rexan who stumbled upon what appears to be a mass gravesite where none of the dead seemed to have a very pleasant death. While they discussed the possible implications, back at the farm three engineers were caught with enough liquid latnium to buy a small planet, per orders they were shot on sight -- Laehval was most annoyed. Destorie decided not to take a chance on anyone else stealing things, and ordered everyone but people personally vetted by him back to the Talon for the night. Those lucky enough to remain, along with senior staff, are planning a small picnic on the beach.

Mission Briefing: While the excavation team is investigating the forge area, t'Rexan has stumbled upon what appears to be a pit filled with what looks like skeletal remains; tAehjae, S'Bien and tKsa are en route to t'Rexan's location. 060409.txt

Happy Birthday to Laura the Lovely.

A distant sea breeze swept through the grounds of the Ehaion, the palace of the Dohlman. Built during the reign of the third Dohlman, Elania the Strong, the gold-bricked domes of the four towers that anchored the walls that enclosed gardens and the central palace itself shimmered in morning sun. Encircling the outer wall was a three kilometer buffer of jungle. The castle itself, expanded on by the fourteenth and thirty-fourth Dohlmans, Elaan V and Hecal III, was a brilliant spike of marble, gold, and crystal cut into bricks. From a high balcony in the east wing, a solitary figure looked out over the jungle to the city rising just beyond the jungle, the capitol and temple city of Ela. Her long black hair fell gently on her deeply tanned shoulders, marred by streaks of grey and white hair. A simple white chiton fell loosely, revealing her shoulders. A gold diadem with a dilithium stone caught the morning light as she leaned against the carved balcony. Elaan of Troyius considered her life for a long moment on this most glorious morning. She had been born from a marriage of the fifty-second Dohlman, Sarii II, and the Prince of Honon Cor of the Arema, Jaston. There were few days that passed that she did not wish to have known either of her parents. Jaston, heir to the realm of Arema, died in battle against the Troyians, while her mother took ill after her birth and never recovered. She wondered how different her life would have been had she not been thrust into the role of leader of her people, spiritually and politically at such a young age. For over fifty generations her decedents had been the nominal focal points of Elasian rule. History told that she was the descendent of Elaa, mother of the Children. It had been Elaa and her children – Arem, Isan, Rohl, Gailion, Corineth, Yvirard, and Daeni who’d brought culture and civilization to a primitive world hundreds of years before. It was the stuff of legend and myth. A tale of great men and women who forged empires out of kingdoms and in part, united a planet in a loose coalition of noble lords who served the Dohlman – the descendent mother. How real those stories were, Elaan of Troyius did not know. The popular theory amongst scientests and scholars on her world was that they had been visited by a race of aliens who’d saw fit to progeniate their theories of social development. Legend held that the children, the quasi-gods of her people, had left along with Elaa after a brutal war had erupted and destroyed an entire continent and led to the death of Daeni. For generations after that, the war that the Children of Elaa had fought continued. The Council of Nobles kept the wars mostly small. The various kingdoms of the larger landmasses kept each other in balance, and the voice of the Dohlman meant that none of the wars escalated the point of entire war. The Dohlman, however, was not queen of her own realm or destiny. Lacking in population and resources, the authority the Dohlman wielded with the people came backed by the armies of the nobles who were bound by tradition to serve. Even after the Treaty of Ga-Gaol officially ended the wars between the various kingdoms that made up the imperial state of Elasia, the Dohlman remained by and large a figure head. Elaan of Troyius knew her life story had been no different from her predecessors. Perhaps if her mother had not died, her life would have been different. She sighed and pushed off the balcony and glanced briefly up at the rising sun. When her mother had died, she was barely a year old. The Council took stewardship over her, almost immediately. The war against the vile Troyians continued. Cloistered in the palace she could not recall having a single friend beyond the maid who cared for her, and even then, it was not if she could relate to a commoner. When she’d came of age, certain members of the Council had saw an opportunity to bring an end to the war with the Troyians. Despite her best efforts, she learned why, despite their advantages the Dohlman of Elasia was never able to break free of the Council and rule outright. Her tears went unabated, and she was married to the young Prince of Troyius. Despite having much in common – both monarchs held only ceremonial power, as the Premiere of Troyius ran the government itself, and both being young, rough-around-the-edges children from broken homes, neither she nor her new husband could tolerate being within five feet of each other. Still, she was married to him and would forever have ‘of Troyius’ attached to her name, a constant reminder of her bondage to the foul, blue skinned Prince. Upon Prince Akito’s ascension to the throne, she found herself, the Dowager Queen of Troyius, forever the outcast in Troyian society. It was only when she was allowed to return home to the Ehaion that she felt any modicum of humanity. She’d grown despondent in her twenty years of marriage. Still, she’d accepted that it was for the best. Her continued marriage secured peace for her people. When Akito had died, she’d actually grieved. Not for him. Hardly for him. Never for him. But for her people. She’d grown old and had bore Akito no children. The joined empires that the architects of the marriage had dreamed of failed. She’d returned to Elasia after the funeral in mixed emotions -- failure, joy, happiness. That had been ten years hence. When she’d left Elasia for Troyius, she’d been a young girl. A foolish, headstrong girl who cared only for her own happiness, a lifetime of denial of her own desires had taught her that her own happiness was subservient to the good of her people. The man who commanded the ship that had ferried her away to her new life, James Tiberius Kirk was dead. He was a great man, a man wise beyond his years. He’d taught her much in their brief encounter. It had been the memory of that man, his faith in the goodness of all life that had inspirited her to push the Council to seek a close relationship with the Federation, despite their ties to the Troyians. And now… and now her dream of truly securing peace for her people seemed slipping through her fingers. It had seemed so close only a few days before, but once more the winds of fate sat against her and would not budge. Behind her, she heard the voice of her loyal and trusted assistant calling. “I will be there in a moment,” she said looking back to the city in the distance. “Is the transport on the way?” “Yes, your highness.” “Good, the council will hear me yet; we must stop this before it escalates…” “King Athormin will be difficult to persuade… it is…” “I know,” she said disappearing into the palace. “But the safety of our people is more important to me…”

In every regime change there's a moment where the people who've taken over realize how complicated their task is and that it's easier to critique what others are doing and offer vague policy proposals than it is to actually govern. This is called the "Oh, ######" moment. For Destorie N'Dak, newly minted Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire, that moment occurred his first morning in the Praetorian Residence. “Adm… Praetor,” his former aide-de-camp, turned first assistant Daol tr’Kaen said. “I know it’s early, but there are pressing matters.” Destorie groaned inwardly and pulled the luxurious satin-esque covers of the large four-poster wooden bed up over his face. “It can’t wait another thirty minutes… it’s not even morning yet.” “Actually,” Daol said walking over to the large closet to the left of the room and returned with a robe. “The sun has risen and set on a dozen different worlds in the Empire since you were last up.” Another groan. “You know damned well what I meant.” “I know,” Daol said, stopping and standing patiently. “However , the sun is already climbing over the Imperial City as we speak. Unlike your quarters at your personal residence in the Senate Quarter, these do not face the sunrise, but the sunset… I can’t help but wonder if there’s a message in that.” Reluctantly, Destorie emerged from beneath the covers and shrugged on the robe Daol offered him. His normally perfectly groomed hair went in several different directions, and sleep tugged at his slightly swollen eyes. “I assume I have time to get a shower and something to eat before…” “I am afraid not, Praetor…” “Call me Destorie…” Daol sighed. “I am afraid not, Destorie.” “What’s so important that I can’t get a damned shower and a cup of coffee.” “You have an urgent call from the Governor of Thakolin III. There’s been a massive tsunami that’s effected nearly the entire settlement. Three hours ago there was a mining disaster on Jok II’s fourth moon. A freighter has gone missing near the Breen border. And the Federation President is expecting a call back from you by the end of the morning. On top of that, you need to be briefed by the Senate Intelligence Committee, Tal’Diann and Galae Intelligence Agencies.” “All of that happened since I went to sleep?” “Yes.” “I’ll take the call from the Governor in the office shortly. Then get me the Governor of Jok on a conference call and send for the Minister of Energy and the Director of Resource Extraction Safety. I’ll take a shower while they make their way over. Then have whomever is briefing me head over, and tell them they’ll be having breakfast. Then… then I’ll have a chat with the President before lunch.” “Yes, Destorie… but…” With his trademark imperiousness, Destorie stopped mid-stride towards the gold-leafed double doors that led out of the bedroom suite and into a sitting area. “But what?” “Well, that’s not your whole morning.” “Oh dear Elements.” “In deed.” Destorie frowned and put his hands on his hips. “What else do I have to do this morning?” “It would be easier if I just gave you the ISD, sir.” Daol handed him an ISD and Destorie’s eyes widened as he went over the list for several minutes. “That… that is my morning?” “Yes,” he said. “The CoS trimmed the list down a bit, but yes, that’s your first morning.” “Dear elements. I wasn’t this busy during the war. I wasn’t this busy on the campaign trail. I wasn’t…” Daol nodded. “I am aware, but I am sure you’ll adjust.” “But most of this isn’t even governing… it…its publicity and listening to people drone on about their pet causes, or putting out fires that someone else should have already done.” Destorie frowned and started walking again. Daol nodded. “Welcome to political service, Praetor. It’s not as glamorous as they make it in the HIC-vids.” Nearly growling, Destorie continued walking. “I wish someone would have told me that before I signed on for five years of this.”

May 28 N'Dak and Sar'vek came to an agreement about how they should proceed; t'Rexan was briefed on the situation and advised N'Dak to continue under his plan, which would have science continue their work on mapping and imaging the area while engineering and security cleared the forge area of traps, when that was finished the entire team would begin work on finding the latnium reserves that fed the foundry and begin extraction. Meanwhile, the air purifiers in the lower levels have cleaned the air completely. Elsewhere, t'Rexan made a startling discovery and is diverting some of our resources to look more closely into her find.

MISSION BRIEFING: As the away team has been clearing do the lower levels to the area that appeared to be some sort of forge, the teams had been clearing away traps, and had brought in machinery to clear the air. In their work, they found that the glow that had been lighting the area through holes in the wall, and heating the same way, was due to troughs of liquid latinum flowing to and fro. While liquid is the natural form for latinum, to heat it til it glowed, really took some heat or energy; being located next to a volcano, may explain alot. 052809.txt

May 21 Underground, the clearing of traps had been halted whilst air purifying systems were brought into the lower levels near the foundry, where troughs were discovered, carrying liquid latnium into the Foundry. There was speculation as to the source of the latnium that flowed through the troughs. A discussion ensued as to how the excavation would continue. N'Dak decided it was best to first clear the area of any traps, and in the interim he and Sar'vek could discuss how to proceed.

Mission Brief: Medical found what they hoped was a large enough sample of the plant they believe was used to make the poison to concoct an antidote. Meanwhile, the science/engineering/security teams located what appears to be the Foundry where the latnium objects were made. Sar'vek found herself rather shocked to find out from Destorie that not all of the artifacts would be going to science directly -- as per orders from t'Rexan, once they were able to recover enough latnium, each member of the crew would be rewarded. 052109.txt

May 14 Medical found what they hoped was a large enough sample of the plant they believe was used to make the poison to concoct an antidote. Meanwhile, the science/engineering/security teams located what appears to be the Foundry where the latnium objects were made. Sar'vek found herself rather shocked to find out from Destorie that not all of the artifacts would be going to science directly -- as per orders from t'Rexan, once they were able to recover enough latnium, each member of the crew would be rewarded.

MISSION BRIEF: The Talon crews continue to clear the area of traps, while medical searches for an antidote for the now frosty R'Mor. 051409.txt

April 23-May 7 A group of mummified bodies was discovered below the surface, while traps were continued to be clear, with a few more causalities. Medical continued to search for antidote for the poison darts.

MISSION BRIEFING: The expedition team has been making their way into the lower portions of the large building they had discovered, many of it's facets covered in latinum, finding traps, and several mumified bodies along the way down. The temperature has been steadily rising and the corridors are lit with an eerie orange gold light, projecting through odd shaped symbols carved into the rock itself. Further away Morganna, tAehjae and tRexan are collecting plant samples to try to discover the origin of the unknown poison that has R'mor in stasis. 043009.txt

The mountain which the crew of the Talon was excavating had yet to receive a proper name, whatever the name the natives who built the city buried beneath the ashes had long since been lost to history. One volcano on the planet, did however, have a name – Mount N’Dak. Experts had mused that the long dormant period of said volcano would be coming to an end as all of the signs of a massive eruption of fire and molten rock were present. Mount N’Dak had been rumbling for days, weeks actually. His exposed dome was furrowed and contorted. The chances of a lethal eruption ending someone’s life were notably high. It had come as a rather shocking surprise then when the rumbling was at its height, when the pressure had built up high enough that the contortions on the face of the ready-to-erupt volcano were visible to anyone looking, that there had been no eruption. Not even so much as a belch of fire. Destorie sighed deeply. He had considered, of course, yelling and screaming at t’Aehjae about her lack of respect and inability to follow the chain of command. He’d thought about it, he really had. Other than stress relief, though, what good would it have done? Absolutely none. Elements. Could they have a mission where in nothing went wrong? He sighed to himself and went back to looking over the report he’d received from medical on the status of the medic. Just one more thing he had to consider, as if making sure no one decided to try and pocket latnium wasn't enough work. He ran a hand over his still bald head and felt the warm rays of the sun beating down upon it. Apparently science had found something else to begin looking into – dead bodies or something – while Engineering continued to work on clearing the ruins of further traps. At least the weather was holding and the barriers that had been constructed to keep the tides out of the excavation site seemed to be working. He sighed and started walking back to his tent to lay-down for a few minutes. He was going to be up late working on paper work and after all the commotion of the last few hours, he needed just a few moments in the quiet dark of his tent. And so, Mount N’Dak slumbered, for now. There was no telling if the mountain could once again awaken and erupt in fires and flames.

I'll be at Trek Movie, so Na for me.