Crispin_Xavier002

Well, here's an update, I should have my PC up and running with in the next week or so. I fixed the email problem so you can now take emails from me. On the Cancer front still no word, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Can someone notify Travis I have a message for him here. Hey buddy, sorry to here you are leaving, hope things work out for you and may the Kami guide you in your paths ahead.

Hello everyone, well I have some bad and good news, bad news my PC was hacked, so if you get any emails from me in the nextfew days or anythingy after 13-Spet-04 ignore it. Plus I am going to have to ask for a leave of absense till I can get my PC fixed. Good news, I may have a cancerous growth forming on my head, so till I can get that fixed I'd also have to ask for a LOA. I know, I know, whats good about that, well from it's location it's operable, so that would mean I have beaten three major illnesses. hey, it's an ego thingy.

Crispin opened the panel under the Inertial Dampening Field (IDF) control console. He then proceeded to pull out cable. He then turned to Deb, “Dr Matthews, do you have a defibrillator in your med kit?” Deb turned to Crispin, “What?” “Well, I know of this little trick, granted it wasn’t used on an IDF, but Starfleet technology is pretty much the same, so this should work. I hope. Stand back and have the defib ready” Before Deb could respond, Crispin pulled out the IDF cable and then ripped out a cable that was a direct line to the Matter/Anti-Matter Engine. He placed the IDF cable to the other cable. Sparks few and Crispin was thrown back a few feet. Deb went right to work on Crispin. Crispin opened his eyes, “I must have died and gone to Heaven. Because I’m looking at an Angel.” “Thank you for the compliment Mr. Xavier. However, I strongly advise that you don't do that again!" Crispin stood up, “Don’t worry, I only do something that stupid every ten years.” Crispin went back to the console, “All right, we have IDF at ninety-two percent. I can try and get another four percent, but that’s the max.” He started to work on the console. Deb shook her head and mumbled, "It was stupid. And once every twenty years is too often." She raised her voice to be sure Crispin could hear her. "Just don't do it again!" Crispin didn’t turn to Deb, but he let out a laugh and his trademarked halfcocked smile. After fifteen minutes he turned to Deb, “Doctor, we have IDF at ninety-five percent. Now, since I have training in communication, something I learned on Ariel IV, I see if I can get ship to ship communications up and running.”

Crispin sat down on the cold hard stone that was once an entranceway to a grand home. Now it was nothing more than rubble, housing more rebels than it once housed tenants. It was late Autum and the rain poured down. Crispin was tired, but his watch shift didn’t end for another three hours. He rubbed his hands together, but that did little good. “Coffee?” Crispin snapped out of his state of self pity, he jumped up and pointed his weapon at the direction the voice came from. “Damn it Juhdia, don’t do that.” Crispin took the hot drink from his mentor, he gulped it down in one breath. The hot liquid and caffeine improved Crispin’s spirit, though not much. “Thank you.” “Easy boy, there is not much of that to go around. We had to use seven Phaser cells to power up the replicator. And that power is almost used up.” Juhdia sat down next to Crispin and rested a pot of coffee by his feet. Crispin looked at Juhdia, “Easy? Huh, old man.” Juhdia poured Crispin another cup, “How many times have I told you not to call me that. Hell, I had to tell your Father…” Juhdia was suddenly at a lost for words, he saw the look on Crispin’s face. “Just do not tell anyone gave you a pot of coffee.” “Sure old… Juhdia. I just wish this was all over and we could go back to the farm.” “That’s why they call it “The Long Night”. It takes some time to win, or lose. Trust me, I’ve been through enough of these.” Juhdia and Crispin talked till Crispin’s watch shift was over. Crispin curled up into a ball in the corner and drifted off to sleep, but he continued to shiver from the cold. Juhdia took off his coat and laid it on Crispin. But still the boy shivered, not from the cold, but from his dreams. Time had pasted and though Crispin was still a year shy of fifteen, the age of the draft was lowered to fourteen by the Provincial President, he was turning into a fine strong man. Under Juhdia’s teachings Crispin was becoming a worthy soldier. But there was still so much to learn. Crispin sat in the back of a room in a war torn building as the Rebellion Leaders talked over their attack plan. Crispin was Juhdia’s second in the Frankfurt Rebellion Cell, so he was supposed to be present during such meetings, but Crispin’s mind was somewhere else. The second of the New York Rebellion Cell, a young redheaded girl named Rebecca, who like Crispin was still only a teenager. She got up and exited the room. Crispin followed her. She sat down and curled her legs to her chest and placer her head on her arms which were on top of her legs. “Hello, Rebecca, right?” Rebecca launched from her sitting position to a fighting stance. “Oh, you.” She sat back down again. “Yeah, you’re Juhdia’s second, Crispin Xavier. You and Juhdia have quit a reputation.” Crispin responded with a cocky smile and laugh, “Yes ma’am.” He sat down next to Rebecca. The two talked for hours, even after the meeting. Juhdia spotted Crispin, but thought the boy needed to spend sometime with a member of the opposite sex. And Juhdia could see that even under the worn exterior she was a pretty girl. Over next few months Crispin and Rebecca had formed a relationship. Every chance they had to spend time together, they would. Juhdia was happy that Crispin had met someone, even though the planet was in the middle of a civil war. Crispin was happy that he had finally met someone he could love. One day the Frankfurt cell met up with the New York cell. Crispin looked for Rebecca, but he could not find her. He went to the leader of the New York cell. “Greeting Bel’el. Where is Rebecca?” The Tellarite man turned from Crispin. Tears rolled down his cheek. “She was captured and executed last week. Crispin stood there, not knowing what to think. He had seen people die and he had lost people he cared for, even before the war. It brought back the memory of losing his parents. Crispin was filled with a well of emotions, but for some reason, he could not cry. Juhdia told Crispin that this was the effect of war and he must find his own inner strength to go on.

Crispin had spent three weeks with his new unit and he seemed to be getting along with the people in his unit, or so he thought. The Provincial President, Doctovus, had been making speeches on the planetary communication system, but the last announcement had Crispin confused. Doctovus made a decree that all rioters were being charged with sedition and were to be executed on the spot. Crispin’s unit had been sent to the Dakota Prefect to stop the rioters. But he had not heard that there were rioters, yes he was only a Private second class, but still, he would have heard about this from his mentor Juhdia, who worked in the Palace as commander of communications. But no word had reached him. Crispin’s unit headed out in one of the new Grav Tanks. He had only seen them in action once, but they could get the job done. However, the job was destroying farms. Crispin’s unit was lending ground support to the Grav Tanks, his orders was to shoot the farmers that tried to stop the tanks, but he could not. Being from the Venice Prefect, he knew farmers, Juhdia owned a farm. Farmers were still the life blood of Ariel IV, how could the Provincial President make such an order. Crispin would find the answer soon enough. “Private Xavier, why are you not firing on those traitors?” His commanding Officer screamed at Crispin. Crispin turned to his commander, “They are not traitors, they are just farmers.” Crispin’s Commanding Officer raised his weapon to Crispin head. “You will fire on these traitors to the Government or I will fire on you.” Crispin could believe his ears, was this really happening? How could the government do this? What was making the Provincial President order the deaths of his own people? Crispin lowered his weapon, the next thing he knew was a Phaser Rifle smashing into his head. “GET UP TRAITOR!!!” Crispin felt the boot hit his ribs. This kind of abuse went over the last five days. Everyday he was beaten and told that he was going to be executed that day. But the soldiers did not kill him. Two days later his Commanding Officer came into Crispin’s cell. “Private, stand.” Crispin straddled the wall and stood up. “Private, step forward.” “Sir, I cannot. Sir I am just too tired. I need to eat something.” His Commanding Officer reached into his jacket and pulled out an apple. “Here, I thought you might be in need for some food. All you have to do is swear allegiance to the President, that you will never question his orders again and you may have it.” Crispin walked forward to the apple, but then he stopped. He remembered how Lucifer once tempted Eve with an apple. If he were not in so much pain Crispin would have found the thing funny. But nothing was funny since Marshal Law was declared. “Yes sir, I swear my allegiance to the President.” Crispin’s Commander laughed and ate the apple in front of Crispin. Crispin fell to the ground from exhaustion. The Commander left the cell then men from Crispin’s unit came in and proceeded to beat on him. Two weeks later Crispin was released from his cell and sent back to his unit, he knew, even before his mentor Juhdia warned him, he was being watched, his every move, his every action. Crispin would have to watch his every step. Even his meetings with Juhdia were watched over. During one meeting with Juhdia, the two broke their solemn vow and talked about switching sides and joining the rebellion. It was not an easy choice. Other soldiers have done so, but for Juhdia to betray the President and fight against his one time friend. This decision weighed heavy on Juhdia’s mind, but he remembered his vow to Crispin’s parents. “I will look after Crispin as he were my own.” Added to the fact that most soldiers that joined the rebellion were killed for fear that they were spies. Days later the two men left the capital city in a hover transport filled with weapons, supplies and food. And ran to the Mississippi Prefect. To Be Continued…

Crispin exited the shuttlecraft once it arrived at Starfleet Academy in San Francisco. He looked around and breathed in the fresh air. Much different from the air aboard a starship, crisper, cleaner, real. Crispin carried his bag to the Academy boarding houses and reserved a room. It was standard that fleet Officers get boarding in Academy housing, much like the old ‘Sailor, Soldier & Airmen’ housing that existed in the late twentieth century. It fit Crispin, a man out of place, out of time. No family to speak of and only a few friends still around from his Academy days. He would get in contact with them and make plans, but he was just keeping up appearances. He was too new on the Reaent to make plans with his new crewmates, that would have to wait for now. Crispin had a goal, friends were part of it, but not now. For now Crispin would have to be alone.

I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter. - Winston Churchill -2313 B.C. Israeli, Earth Juhdia packed his belongings in his saddlebags. When he was finished he mounted his horse and started on his travels, but from behind him a soft voice cried out, “Papa, Papa wait.” Juhdia turned his horse around, dismounted and grabbed his daughter up into his arms. “Rachel, Papa must hurry, if I wish to reach Agra before the Sabbath.” Rachel smiled, “But Papa, you were going to leave without giving me a kiss.” Juhdia laughed and kissed his daughter on her forehead, “There.” Juhdia placed his daughter down and turned to his wife, “Bethel watch the children and see to it that my Father makes it to temple.” Juhdia mounted his horse again and rode out of town. Juhdia traveled for several days to reach the neighboring town of Agra. He had a day to reach Agra before the Sabbath and was sure he would reach the town before nightfall, when he was attacked by a gang of Sumerian thieves. As a Rabbi, Juhdia was not allowed to fight, but he carried with him a tome of sacred text and he was sworn to protect it at all cost. Juhdia jumped from his horse and drew a small dagger from under his robe. One of the thieves cut Juhdia’s hand, making Juhdia drop his dagger, while another thief ran his sword through Juhdia’s stomach. Juhdia fell and slowly began to die. To add humiliation to Juhdia’s death, the thieves burned the sacred text Juhdia was to deliver. Juhdia watched the tome burn as he died. A day later Juhdia felt an energy surge through his body, unlike he had ever felt before. His eyes opened and he gasped for air. Juhdia stood up and did not believe what was happening to him. He knew he was dead, but he was standing, breathing. Days later, sun-baked and soiled Juhdia staggered into his village and made his way past on-lookers to the village well. Once he sipped from the well to wet his parched throat, he poured the water on his face. A child pointed to Juhdia and screamed. Soon all the village came to see what the child was screaming at. When Bethel saw her husband she cursed him, knowing her husband to be dead, crying out that the evil spirit drop the visage of her husband and to leave the village. Soon the villagers began to pelt Juhdia with stones driving him from the village. Juhdia traveled for weeks cursing his loved ones and his God. One night Juhdia came across the thieves that killed him. He creeped upon their camp and snapped the neck of the one that killed him, then taking the thief’s sword Juhdia began hacking away at the other two. Juhdia took a sword from one of the dead thieves, then he collected what money the three had, mounted his horse and rode off. Months later Juhdia returned to his village, when he rode in he light a torch and cast it upon the house of his friend. And when his friend’s family came running from the house Juhdia slew them all. And Juhdia repeated this until the break of day when he looked around and saw that the entire village was dead. Juhdia dropped to his knees and began to weep, not for his murderous rage, but because there was no one left to kill. Juhdia continued on with his murderous rampage, village after village he would ride in burning houses and temples, killing everyone he would come across. One day Juhdia came into a town. When a man approached Juhdia, he drew his sword and cut the man’s throat. “Blacksmith.” The town folks pointed to the blacksmith. Juhdia dismounted from his house and called for the blacksmith’s aid. “Feed and water.” Then he walked over to the blacksmith. “I want you to cast me a hundred daggers. Have the blade cast like the flames of a fire and have eyes in the hilt.” Then he threw his leather armor at the blacksmith, “And as the daggers, add that design to the breast of my armor, so when I ride into a city they will know who I am.” The blacksmith asked Juhdia who he was. Juhdia almost smiled, “Why, I am Juhdia. The Great Destroyer.” And throughout Israeli, Sumeria and all the lands around, Juhdia striked his claim to history. Present day, USS Excalibur. Juhdia worked on the cloaking device, seeing to it that the device worked to specifications. All the while thinking to himself, “The past is the past, my crimes are centuries old, now I am working to better myself as a man. No more do I kill for killings sake. I have even resigned from the Gathering. No I must not think of my past, live for my present.” TO BE CONTINUED