Cptn Elias Moore

Governor Mendell was on edge. More on edge than usual and for more than one reason. His colony, Deneva, once little more than a backwater Starfleet outpost, was now at the center of a mounting interstellar crisis. The colony was not placed near Orion space without purpose. Starfleet wanted a base with proximity to Klingon territory. The Syndicate territories wedged between the two powers provided a buffer. The purpose of the base was threefold--intelligence on Klingon activities, a launching pad for Klingon-related missions, and the simple message of "we're Earth, we're expanding, and we'll put a base right in your backyard without hesitation." Mendell didn't agree with such an aggressive policy, so it was with the bitter taste of irony that his former colleagues in Starfleet Command 'offered' him this governorship. The same colleagues who'd 'encouraged' him to resign his Admiralty when he voiced his support for less aggressive policies one too many times. Deneva served its purpose when a meeting was planned between Captain Archer and Klingon officials. Governor Mendell had a seat at the planning table; he observed as the warning signs mounted. The meeting was originally to be conducted in Orion space between Archer and a political officer. It rather abruptly morphed into a meeting in Klingon space between Archer and a military officer. Governor Mendell had been one of the voices urging that the meeting be called off if the original arrangements could not be restored. It seemed the sensible approach. It was an approach that both Archer and the Coalition's expert on Klingons agreed with. But Admiral Hawk, overseeing the operation and speaking for the Coalition, was hell-bent on a Klingon alliance. He felt that acquiescence would be a show of their desire for peaceful relations, while refusal could risk putting even more distance between the two powers. Mendell recalled the urgency on the part of Hawk and the two Commodores that had accompanied him. There was something driving that urgency, and Mendell wondered if Archer, a man who'd had a bounty placed on his head by the Empire, would still have been catapulted into Klingon space if that 'something' wasn't weighing heavily on their minds. Mendell still had friends at Headquarters, and those friends kept him apprised of Starfleet affairs. He'd heard the rumors of war brooding on the horizon, of a mysterious new faction posing threats to interstellar peace. If Mendell were still back in San Francisco, he'd be recommending that the UEG make contact with this new faction. But Starfleet's approach was involving anything but contact. Admiral James Gardner, just a Commodore when Mendell handed in his resignation, was gaining a great deal of support within Starfleet and, it was rumored, the UEG. Gardner was a man who had achieved rank advancement mostly through military prowess; it troubled Mendell that Starfleet's and even Earth's future could fall under the direction of such an officer. Sure enough, rumors told that Gardner's clique appeared more interested in preparing for war than averting it. Hawk, also a Commodore when Mendell resigned, had always been a close friend of Gardner's. Was his urgency being driven by the rumors of war? Was the request for an alliance, in fact, a plea for military support? It seemed like they would be getting quite the opposite. The meeting, as expected, did not go well at all. The two ships and their crews had been captured and not heard from since. Worse, long range sensors showed the number of Klingon vessels near the border increasing by the day. 'Imminent invasion' was the inevitable conclusion. Not even the Coalition expert could shed any light on this alarming shift in Klingon policy. Attempts to contact the Empire were failing, and now the rumors from back home had Starfleet preparing to mobilize its own forces along the border. The whole situation was taking on a million shades of ugly. But it wasn't ready to implode just yet... Challenger was returning to Deneva... ... as were the Orions. Governor Mendell still recalled the last time that both Challenger and the Orions had visited his colony. Deneva had been threatened by an errant asteroid, and like the knights in shining starships that Starfleet's officers were supposed to be, Challenger's crew managed to deflect the astral body. But in the chaos of the evacuation efforts, Orion slavers, possibly responsible for the asteroid threat, swooped in and kidnapped several colonists. The abductions were another incident cleaned up by Challenger's crew. They'd been the second crew to take an NX-class vessel out of drydock, and their response to the two Denevan crises showed them to be a capable group. The Orions had the potential to be a menace to Denevan operations. But Challenger's thwarting of their abduction attempt went a long way in warding them away from the colony. On top of that, Coalition policy was concerned heavily with neutralizing any Syndicate threat. With the once squabbling Coalition worlds now united, trade routes were better protected against piracy and smuggling operations were pursued rigorously. The Coalition was also working on the inside, establishing contacts within the Syndicate. The Orions currently on their way to Deneva were lead by one such contact. Mendell wasn't sure how he would feel about seeing another Orion vessel in the Deneva system. But he knew exactly how he'd feel if he saw fifty Klingon vessels in the system. If the Klingons were preparing for war, they'd look to Deneva first. The little backwater outpost would become the arrowhead of the Coalition defense... and it probably would not last long in that role. Two Starfleet crews presumably held captive behind what could now safely be classified as enemy lines--a crisis about to be entrusted to the whims of a race with a reputation for thuggery and decadence. Yes, Governor Mendell was quite on edge... yet he simply couldn't refuse the sixth cup of coffee brought to him already that day... along with a report that their Orion guests had just appeared on long range sensors and would be arriving in under twenty minutes. The game was about to unravel.

For its upcoming mission, the Challenger sim will have some guest characters that need playing. If you've been a graduate of the STSF Academy for at least one month and you're interested in playing an Orion or Klingon character, send an e-mail to [email protected] and [email protected]. Please indicate which STSF sims you're active on and how steady you can expect your attendance to be. Challenger sims Sunday nights at 11pm eastern time. If you won't be able to attend every week, that's alright; there will be plenty of roles to fill. If you have any questions, feel free to ask in this thread.

Anything's possible. :lol:

NX-05 Challenger Mission Briefing -- March 26, 2156 The senior staff has been called to the conference room for a meeting.

NX-05 Challenger Mission Briefing -- March 19, 2156 Captain Moore was ignoring, for the moment, how much he hated being stuck in Sickbay. His mind was too preoccupied with the reports of recent events. His crew and his ship had come under attack. The reports were sketchy as to who, exactly, did the attacking. The chaos that had been caused on the ship and on the planet appeared the work of a small army. There was no longer any sign, however, of the Romulan fleet that had attacked Challenger, nor of the Nausicaan warrior that had invaded the Brig, nor of the massive armored mystery-men that had held up Sickbay. The most reliable accounts indicated that the attack was conducted by a mere three individuals. But three individuals with considerable capabilities. Lieutenant Grey's report was disturbing and revealing. The radiation signatures attached to the three assailants were nearly identical to the signature they detected when a newly encountered Rufus of Midgar raised a protective energy field around their shuttle pod at Kappa Persei, saving the lives of the pod's crew in the wake of a pirate attack. Rufus had called the feat a manifestation of his 'talent,' the very mysterious talent common to the people of his planet. Moore thought that the crew's dealings with Rufus' people had ended the moment they blew up the UES Achilles to dispose of the dangerous Omega particle. The explosion killed Rufus' nephew, Quantus, the one who had planned to use the particle for destructive purposes. He remembered Rufus assuring him that Quantus' death would not anger the other members of his rather perverse family. It now appeared as if Rufus was mistaken. Moore reached for the terminal beside his biobed and opened the comm. "Commander Cole, any luck contacting Midgar?" "Negative, Captain, they still aren't responding to our messages." Moore sighed. "... I wonder if they're even capable of receiving our messages. Their... talents... don't exactly mix well with our technology." Before Moore could contemplate paying a visit to the planet Midgar, he remembered his parting words with Rufus. "Commander... this is going to appear rather insane... but there's something in my quarters that may help us get in touch with them..."

Admiral Leonard watched the computer screen in his office as it replayed the sensor log transmitted by Enterprise. He'd watched the log many times now, from many different angles. The shuttle pod carrying Archer departed Aldrin and docked with the lead Bird of Prey. All five ships, Enterprise watching under the veil of her prototype Suliban cloaking device, remained still for several minutes, presumably as Archer negotiated with the Klingon commander. Suddenly and unexpectedly, two of the Birds turned to Enterprise and opened fire, while the third opened fire on Aldrin. Prepared for any nasty turns of events, Enterprise established a subspace uplink with the Denevan outpost and transmitted everything her sensors had recorded from the point that the Klingon ships arrived. The tactical analysts had been poring over the sensor readings for days. There was still no definitive answer to the question of how the cloaked Enterprise had been detected. She had slipped past the Klingon border, maintaining a comfortable distance from any nearby Klingon vessels to avoid her engine signatures being picked up, and arrived at the rendezvous location days before the meeting was to take place. She waited, on reduced power, for the Klingons to arrive. There could be no doubt that Commander T'Pol had exercised the utmost caution in keeping the ship under cover. The most likely conclusion was that Starfleet's latest intelligence indicating that the Klingons could not pierce a Suliban cloak was either erroneous or out of date. The other question perplexing the analysts was that of the attacks themselves. The Birds employed particle weapons set to disabling frequencies rather than their usual disruptor volley. Their attacks appeared to be concentrated on Aldrin's and Enterprise's engine and weapon systems. A nonlethal assault was hardly consistent with the Klingon reputation for taking no prisoners. There was speculation that the Klingons planned to hold Archer and the two ships' crews for political leverage against Earth. Again, this wasn't consistent with accepted Klingon policy, but the last communique from the Klingons had suggested a 'political upheaval' on their homeworld. Maybe their policies had changed. There was certainly enough evidence of this, with repeated attempts by the diplomatic offices to contact the Klingon homeworld being ignored... and Klingon fleet activity at the border beginning to pick up. A few seconds after the attack was launched, the sensor feed abruptly ended with the lead Bird firing on Enterprise's subspace transmitter. Admiral Leonard tapped his keyboard, rewinding the log to just moments before this final shot. The screen was dominated by the image of the Klingon warship swooping in for its assault. Leonard adjusted the view angle and zoomed in on the port "wing" of the Klingon ship. Painted on the hull along the aft edge of the wing was a string of Klingon symbols. Though Earth's understanding of the Klingon alphabet was at best minimal, they could safely guess that this was the Bird's name. Leonard sifted through the files sitting on his desk and located the datasheet that contained the latest finding--this one from the archivists. The archivists had been immediately tasked with looking through the Enterprise records to determine if any of the three Birds had been encountered by Starfleet before. The possiblity was excluded when nothing was found. It came as quite a surprise when, three days later, the archivists suddenly produced this datasheet. It showed a similar image as the one now displayed on Leonard's computer screen--the wing of a Klingon Bird of Prey with its name prominently displayed. Leonard compared the two sets of symbols and found little cause for doubt--the names displayed were identical. Leonard looked at the header on the datasheet--"NX-05 Challenger Archives: Khitomer mission." Khitomer--the only encounter between Starfleet and the Klingons that did not involve Enterprise. The archivists had stumbled on it almost by accident. When last encountered, this ship was under the command of a Klingon named M'ehl. A misunderstanding on Khitomer resulted in a battle between Challenger and M'ehl's ship. M'ehl had intended to take Commodore Moose back to Kronos to be executed; were those his intentions toward the Aldrin and Enterprise crews? Challenger had managed to resolve the misunderstanding peacefully; M'ehl had proven relatively cooperative. With another tap of the keyboard, Leonard accessed his comm. "Lieutenant Davis..." "Davis here. What is it, sir?" "Lieutenant, notify Columbia that they are to turn back around and continue their original mission to Cait." Leonard looked over the Khitomer data once more. "While you're at it, try to get me in touch with Governor Rex at the Meteora colony. And get a message out to the Nequencia system; I need to speak with Captain Moore as soon as possible." "... change of plans, sir?" Davis asked. "Aye." Leonard nodded at the Bird displayed on his screen. "Change of plans. We'll be giving Challenger the Klingon assignment..."

NX-05 Challenger Mission Briefing -- March 5, 2156 Challenger has come under attack during shore leave. A small Romulan fleet entered the Nequencia system, immediately opened fire on the ship, and transported a boarding party to Sickbay. Both the fleet and the party have since vanished. Strangely, Challenger sustained no damage from the attack, and the boarding party took no hostile actions. It is not clear whether the Romulans are now invisible to detection or whether they even existed in the first place. Challenger is still at tactical alert. The greater damage has been caused by two mystery assailants. The albino woman that was posing as MACO Private Baxter has been detained in engineering, but she managed to render the warp core inoperable; she is being taken to Sickbay. The other assailant, a red-skinned being with a curious affinity for fire, is still pursuing Moore and Sergio on the planet; due to the radio silence, Challenger is currently unaware of this.

Even "Shut up, Wesley!" ?

There are places in the multiverse where basic concepts taken for granted by those on other planes of existence simply do not function--joy, compassion, humility, love, hope. These notions are not merely discouraged in such places, nor are the inabitants of such places simply ignorant to their existence. They are, in fact, prohibited by fundamental laws of reality. Attempting to achieve them within the confines of these laws would be as futile as attempting to propel an object with mass at the velocity of light in a non-subspace realm. In one such place, atop an insurmountable peak of jagged rock, under a blood-red sky, is a windowless citadel constructed entirely of bone. The structure has stood for millenia, preserved against the elements by the most unusual of means. It towers a good fifty feet into the sky, and its lower levels dig straight into the mountain another two-hundred feet. Its interior is a bleak labyrinth of delirium and despair for the hundreds of innocent souls imprisoned there. Their imprisoner is the master of the citadel--a man of unfathomable age, remarkable intelligence, and incomparable cruelty. His true name stretches nigh unto infinity, but those unfortunate enough to be aware of his presence refer to him as 'Antegard' for short. Antegard bears a rage that has festered in his dark soul for as long as his citadel has stood. It drives him and all of his actions toward his ultimate goal--the destruction of the planet from which he was exiled and the death or enslavement of those who exiled him. Many have been the devices that he has wrought to see these vile desires fulfilled, but none has he cherished more than the five children he sired. He cherishes them not as beloved kin, for this is possible neither in his oppressive realm nor in his black heart, but as his most useful tools. The terms of his exile prohibit him and any members of his family, current or future, from leaving his terrible realm... but in the case of his five children, Antegard managed to find a loophole. He begat them under the most unique of circumstances, such that the terms of exile would not apply to them. Freely may they leave their dread realm and carry out their father's wishes abroad. And carry out his wishes they do, out of fear for him moreso than love or even loyalty. When word reached Antegard of the death of one of his children, his already colossal rage mounted even further. The loss of one of his valuable tools was inconvenient enough, but what truly enfuriated him was that the lost child failed what was perhaps the most promising attempt yet to destroy Antegard's hated former homeworld. His child's failure was not only a grave setback to Antegard, it was also a terrible injustice that needed to be avenged. It was thus that he summoned his remaining children to the dark heart of his citadel. Three months ago on the Earth calendar, four robed figures kneeled at four points of the pentagram scribed on the floor of Antegard's meeting chamber. Antegard, covered from head to toe in shrouds of jet black with silver skull tracings, walked around the outside of the pentagram appraising them slowly and deliberately. He stopped at the vacant fifth point and looked upon each child's hood-shadowed face. His own face was completely concealed beneath his hood, but as he stood in silence on the point where his dead child would be kneeling, his displeasure was obvious. "Quantus is dead." His raspy voice announced. After an uncomfortable pause, he resumed his menacing pacing, looking from one child to the next. "I am disgusted by the breathing filth I see before me. Quantus was the smartest among you and the boldest. He had a plan that would finally have seen accursed Midgar reduced to rubble, and he never flinched from it for even a single moment. Where, in my present company, is the sort of ingenuity and determination that he showed?" Antegard stopped behind one of the crouched figures. "Is there any with you, Magnus?" He harshly grabbed the figure's head and yanked back the hood, revealing the child's blood-red skin. "You and your sister laze the days away in your little pleasure palace while I rot in this dank hole of a reality! You tell me of research, of grand machinations that you are plotting that will result in Midgar's destruction... yet I have seen NOTHING from either of you! And when Quantus formed his plan and bade you for assistance... what did you do? You spurned him! You would not share glory with him. And you feared the risks! Cowardly rats, both of you!" "Tell me what it is you wish of me father, and I will see it done without delay!" Magnus said, his voice edged with fear. "Never have I allowed my commitment to your--" "Silence!" Antegard kicked him hard in the back, sending him sprawling against the floor. "I did not demand the presence of your worthless speech!" Antegard continued pacing as Magnus scrambled back onto his knees. "Let us now consider this little crisis of ours. Why is Quantus dead, you wonder? Why did I not conjure him here when I knew that his life was in danger? Why else? Rufus. My thrice-damned brother. His loathsome presence kept me from summoning Quantus to my side. For had I pulled Quantus away, Rufus would have sensed my intervention. He and his blasted Council still believe me to be dead; their ignorance is an advantage that I will not throw away. But the true question is this: how did Rufus locate your brother? Quantus had mastered every technique that I have taught you to conceal your whereabouts from Midgar's diviners. Unlike the rest of you, he never would have slipped up. Yet Rufus managed to find him. The answer is actually quite simple. Rufus had help from... outsiders. Outsiders ignorant of our powers, but resourceful outsiders with unique capabilities of their own. Outsiders who must now be punished." Antegard walked to the center of the pentagram and circled in place to gaze upon each of his children. "For your seemingly everlasting incompetence, I should slay you all. But, because I am not without my moments of mercy, I am going to give you all the chance to clean your slates. Quantus is dead because his affairs crossed those of a race of beings known as... humans. More specifically, the passengers of a spacefaring vessel that bears the name 'Challenger.'" One of the four children stirred at the name, but Antegard did not notice. "Find this vessel... destroy it... slay as many of its passengers as you can... do not allow their leader to live." Antegard turned to the stone door leading out of the meeting chamber and strode out of the pentagram. He stopped at the door to address his children one last time. "Whichever one of you brings me the head of their leader will avoid my wrath for a time. Bring me delay or failure... and you will answer to Quantus directly."

While Sergio retrieved the climbing equipment from his shuttle pod, Elias looked up at the mountain towering overhead. He'd never met the challenge of climbing a mountain before, never experienced the thrill of standing atop a peak that once seemed insurmountable and surveying the surrounding land. He'd told Sergio that he was interested in trying something new... roughly the same explanation he'd once given to his family about his desire to explore deep space rather than stay home building starships. In truth, there was more to it. There was a deep compulsion tugging at him, the same compulsion felt by that teenager who wanted to explore deep space. It was the compulsion to cross a boundary, whether it be the outskirts of the Solar system or a mountain range's foothills, that many would deem dangerous to cross. There was nothing suicidal about it... it was more inquisitory. He wasn't entirely sure what he expected to find on the other side of that boundary. Danger was a certainty. But amidst the danger... something else... something worth braving the danger for. For all the thrills space exploration had brought him thus far, it provided none of the answers he seemed to be seeking. He'd been having those dreams lately, the ones he remembered having as a teenager. Back then, they were always set on the Martian surface. He'd find himself inside a dome with a torrent of red dust devils swirling all around outside, obscuring the horizon. They would crack the dome and threaten to shatter it, but he would feel safe inside. Suddenly, a compulsion would arise to leave the dome and see what lay beyond the whirlwinds, on the concealed horizon. A lone door would show the way out, but the moment he would move toward it, he would be held back. Sometimes a pit would open beneath his feet and swallow him up. Sometimes a contingent of Martian law enforcers would arrive to block his way. Sometimes he would find himself chained... often to one of those same law enforcers... often to his father. Despite his desire to leave the dome, he would feel relieved at being restrained... but, at the same time, frustrated. He never managed to reach that lone door. The more recent dreams differed only in their setting. He was finding himself on nondescript stations and starships, rather than inside Martian domes. The doors leading out were taking the form of airlocks. He could not even see outside. But the common factors were there--the knowledge that danger lay beyond the door, the desire to discover where that dangerous path would lead, the forces restraining him... for his own good, of course... and the frustration at beind held back mingled with the feeling of familiarity and safety. He couldn't even be sure how much the dreams had to do with his desire to climb the mountain. Would scaling a mountain bring him any closer to the answers that space exploration was failing to provide? Likely not, but the compulsion to cross a boundary was becoming stronger in recent months, and this was the only way he knew how to follow it. No pits or chains or Martian police would keep him from passing through this door.

How about Dr. Manning's lab accidents? Are they still hanging around Hood? Only pets you could play a nice game of 3D chess with. :lol:

NX-05 Challenger Mission Briefing -- February 19, 2156 The L'Traisan crisis is over, for now. The Nequencian illness has been cured and the Alliance tomb is now under Starfleet's undisputed control. Challenger's crew has been granted a three day shore leave to recover from the last two missions. The tomb and the captured Bo-Fang ship are both open to crew who wish to study their systems. For those who are more interested in a bit of wilderness adventure, an entire planet of mountains, forests, and lakes awaits below.

Captain Jonathan Archer felt curiously like a lamb as he was "guided" through the dark, cramped corridor. Perhaps it was the not-so-gentle grip that his "escort" was maintaining on his arm. Perhaps it was the corridor's unmistakable resemblance to the interior of a slaughterhouse. Or perhaps it was just the Klingon reputation for brutality. But there was no mistaking the bad feeling that Archer had about this whole affair. The "bad feeling" took root at the Denevan outpost. As expected, they received the Klingon communique clearing them for passage across the border. What they didn't expect was the indication that a "change of plans" was to take place. Archer's ride, the Lexington class ESS Aldrin, would no longer be meeting with a transport carrying a Klingon political officer. Instead, they were to rendezvous at a provided set of coordinates with a Klingon military ship that was to escort them to their contact. This change was apparently made for security reasons in the wake of a "political upheaval" on Kronos, the details of which were not provided. Though this development came across as mildly alarming, Command had stressed to Archer quite vehemently the urgency of this mission. He had no choice but to proceed to the rendezvous. Sure enough, a Klingon Bird of Prey awaited Aldrin at the coordinates. Three Klingon Birds of Prey awaited Aldrin, in fact, as the original arrangements underwent yet another mildly alarming transformation. They ordered Aldrin to maintain a comfortable distance and to send Archer in a shuttle pod toward the central ship, where he was to be brought before the fleet's commander. Questions were asked about the alterations of the original plan, but these were ignored. Once again, driven by the urgency of the mission, Archer proceeded as ordered. But he did not proceed blindly--he'd made his own changes to the plan. Archer's escort practically shoved him through the doorway leading into the Bird's command center. The old Archer would have protested, but the new Archer needed to be diplomatic and reminded himself, for perhaps the sixtieth time, that the Klingons were a very different people who had a very different way of treating guests. The chair at the center of the Bridge swivelled around, revealing a Klingon with a very broad, tooty grin on his face and prominent ridges on his forhead. "So, this is Captain Archer, most famous among his people! I have looked forward to seeing you in the flesh, so that I might compare the man to the myth. I am M'ehl, son of M'ris." "Why do three warships receive me?" Archer's tone was firm, but not hostile. Playing ambassador with a race that respected strength was sure to be a delicate balancing act. "I have come on a mission of peace." M'ehl laughed heartily and slapped the armrest of his chair. "Peace? I know your peace, Archer. You would dare to annex the Klingon people into your Empire." "It is not an Empire." Archer replied, his voice louder. "It is a Coalition of planets that respect each other's territorial borders and political sovereignty." "Spare me your sweet talk!" M'ehl barked. "I have no interest in hearing it, as I have no interest in your 'Coalition.' The Klingon people have no interest in your 'Coalition.' We see it for what it is and we spit on it." Archer frowned deeply and took a step toward the Klingon commander's chair; guards at the Bridge entrance followed him. "It's a good thing that I care little for what interests you. I was told that I would be receiving amnesty for my supposed crimes, so there is no reason for me to be treated like a criminal. Now, are you going to bring me to my contact? Or did you wait for me to come all the way out here simply so you could tell me 'no thanks' and turn me back around?" "That is not the proper respect that I detect in your voice, Captain." M'ehl said through grit teeth. "This is why I curse your Empire! Humans are a weak people. You would expect us to follow you... even to stand beside you, as you claim... yet you have no respect for the Klingon race!" "You have the nerve to say that after what I've done for your people?" M'ehl again broke out in a hearty laugh, with several of his officers joining him. "What you've done for my people!? You speak of that Suliban nonsense? Few things in our Empire's history have been warped out of proportion so. No, Captain Archer, you did not prevent a civil war, you did not save the Klingon Empire, you did not help us avoid anything more than a minor nuisance." Archer had to stop himself from mentioning Enterprise's role in the Augment gene crisis, a matter on which he had been sworn to secrecy. This one was not likely to care anyway. "My contact believes otherwise, and he is acting on behalf of your Chancellor. You will bring me to him at once." M'ehl rose from his chair sharply. The two Bridge guards moved to flank Archer. "Wrong on both counts, Captain! The Chancellor has no intention of clearing your name and he wants no more to do with your 'coalition' than I do. You have no idea about what he believes or doesn't believe, because you have no idea who he is." "I have stood before Chancellor M'Rek in the--" "Chancellor M'Rek has been deposed." Archer's brow furrowed. An ugly grin spread across M'ehl's face as he observed the reaction. This was now well out of the territory of 'mildly alarming.' "When did this happen? We began planning this meeting months ago; we should have been told about a change in power." M'ehl laughed and signalled to the two guards. They grabbed Archer. "Should have been told! As if the Klingon Empire is under any obligation to keep the Humans updated on our affairs! Your arrogance runs thick. As does your duplicity--you weren't going to tell us that you brought Enterprise along, were you?" Archer blinked but tried to keep a straight face. It was difficult to tell whether the Klingon was bluffing. His next words dispelled any doubt. "We've had enough contact with the pathetic Suliban to develop ways to pierce their feeble cloaking devices. I am not surprised that humans are now placing such things on their starships. A coward's approach to battle for a cowardly people." Archer struggled against the grips of the guards. "Do you have any idea what you're starting, M'ehl?" "Quite a good idea." M'ehl replied. He looked over his shoulder. "Weapons lock on Enterprise. Take him away." He instructed the guards. Archer continued to struggle as he was dragged off the Bridge, but he knew that his situation was hopeless. He would have been thinking about the urgency Starfleet placed on this mission, about their desperation to gain an alliance with the Klingons in the shadow of the growing Romulan threat, about the fact that he was now imprisoned behind enemy lines because of their insistence that he meet with their 'trusted contact.' He would have been thinking about all of that if his mind was not preoccupied with the fate of his ship and his crew...

Official Starfleet Communique February 15, 2156 To: Starfleet Command From: Captain Elias Moore, NX-05 Challenger Re: Nequencia III Complex Debriefing The "Nequencia mysteries" have been resolved, and, as per Admiral Gardner's explicit orders, the Nequencia colonization effort will proceed unimpeded. Several unique considerations arising during the course of this mission--the nature of the newly discovered alien complex beneath the surface of Nequencia III, the apparent shift in the formerly neutral L'Traisan government's alignment toward Earth, said government's possible acquisition of genetic engineering capabilities, and the disturbing development in Earth's relations with the Romulan Star Empire--are addressed herein. The mission resulted in one casualty, the fall in the line of duty of Ensign Stephen Connor; his family has been contacted. Damage was extensive--the Deep Space 1 construction frame and a significant portion of the colonial excavation site were lost and will require reassembly. We now control the security systems of the Nequencia III subterranean complex, including its primary surface-to-air energy weapon. Since my last report, it has been discovered that the tomb and its defenses were being used by an ancient L'Traisan faction known as "The Alliance" (ref. the attached historical records) to conceal the remains of their genetically engineered warriors. A leak in one of the stasis capsules storing these bodies was the origin of the mutagenic Nequencian illness. My medical staff has developed and distributed an innoculant against the illness, rendering the colony site safe. The innoculant is not permanent, but it may soon be unnecessary as the genetically-modified bodies have all been burned. The aims of the L'Traisan government are unclear. My first communique with L'Traisan Ambassador Miriola was of a cooperative nature and indicated little interest in Nequencia III on her part. This stance either changed or was originally a ruse. A fleet apparently under the Ambassador's direct command arrived in the Nequencia system ignoring our hails, prompting a tactical alert. The fleet acquired and transported out of our custody the L'Traisan soldiers indicated in my last report; it is now my belief that these soldiers were not remnants of the ancient House Bo-Fang, but were acting on behalf of the L'Traisan government. The L'Traisan fleet made an aggressive push for Nequencia III and their first communique with us lay claim to the tomb and demanded that Nequencia fleet pull out of the system. They reinforced their demand by transporting me to a holding cell aboard their command ship. Their actions must come as a sign of alarm to Starfleet, particularly regarding our presence in the Nequencian system. I would recommend that diplomatic channels with L'Traisa be pursued in haste, as this could entail the rise of new hostilities toward Earth. We are not certain how much the L'Traisan government knew about the Nequencian tomb prior to our discoveries. Commander Cole believes that they possessed complete knowledge of the tomb and of the genetic tampering, and that their actions since our first communique have constituted a coverup; our evidence of the tampering was, thus, an effective tool for blackmailing them away from the planet. This being the case, the L'Traisan threat level can be considered negligible. It is my belief, however, that the L'Traisans only suspected or possessed off-hand knowledge of the tomb's secrets, and that our discovery of the tomb aided their search for these secrets; their departure from the system may be a result of their successful acquisition of data which could be used to replicate the genetic engineering process. This would indicate a desire to apply genetic alterations to their people. Their fleet stood down and departed only after a L'Traisan team in the complex located the chamber housing the augmented soldiers; we have since discovered that this team destroyed the stasis capsules and incinerated the augmented soldiers. This, again, does not clearly indicate either coverup or acquisition. Determining the L'Traisan agenda will be a task for the previously recommended L'Traisan embassy or the Starfleet intelligence corps; close attention must be paid for any signs that genetic augmentation is taking place. I have communicated to Admiral Gardner my recommendation that this project be terminated in light of the Nequencia weapon's destruction of a Romulan craft. The Admiral has assured me of Starfleet's determination to continue with construction. I still believe, however, that it would not be prudent to stand by and wait for a Romulan response. It is vital that we communicate to Romulan leadership that the destruction of their ship was not our intent, and that the weapon was not under our control at the time. The possibility of gaining their trust would be greatly diminished if Romulan agents were to observe us establishing a colony around the weapon. I press Command to consider the aggressive diplomatic foray into Romulan space suggested by Commodore Moose at the onset of the Challenger mission. This approach was abandoned after last year's shipping lane raids; if the Romulans were responsible for those attacks, certainly we can consider the destruction of their ship above Nequencia a counterbalance. Otherwise, we could find ourselves forced into a tragic escalation of hostilities with this major interstellar power. This is my final report on the Nequencia III Complex mission. Let the record reflect the attached commendations of all officers involved in the mission. Also let the record reflect the promotion to Lieutenant of Aaron Westler; it is my recommendation that Lt. Westler be considered for command-level training. Standard Nequencia fleet operations are resuming and the Nequencia colonization project is back underway.

NX-05 Challenger Mission Briefing -- February 12, 2156 Elias rematerialized and found himself staring at a translucent blue field of shimmering energy. Looking around, he noticed that the field was the forward face of a small box; the other faces were smooth white surfaces given a metallic sheen by the ample light emerging from four tubes in each wall corner. A small opening raised up in one of the walls was covered by another energy field. A grey cot was mounted near the floor against another wall. Prison cell--one of the constants that could be recognized among any culture. "Welcome to the Gia-Mesu, Captain Moore." The voice of Ambassador Miriola surrounded him, appearing to have no specific point of origin. "Kidnapping a Starfleet command officer, Ambassador?" Elias answered as he seated himself on the cot. "We can add that to aiding the escape of the Bo-Fang soldiers that were in our custody. Your claim to this world is becoming more and more difficult to recognize." "This world is a L'Traisan tomb. And the Bo-Fang are L'Traisans. We thank you for your assistance in locating the one and capturing the other. But Earth has no jurisdiction over either of these matters. You remain here now only as we will it; thus you will remain on our ship as long as your ships remain." "Everyone's arguing claims and jurisdictions." Elias said. "I think the truth is that neither side has any real claim to this world. That's exactly how the Alliance wanted it. But rather than negotiate this fact peacefully, you give us silence when we try to speak, you kidnap us when we make concessions, and you hide behind falsehoods." "Falsehoods, you say?" Miriola asked. "The Bo-Fang soldiers you plucked out of our brig. Not really Bo-Fang at all, are they? They're agents of your government, sent here to bully us away when you learned the location of this tomb. You wanted us out of this system, but you wanted to deny any knowledge of what's really beneath Nequencia III. Because you do know what's really down there, don't you?" "You speak nonsense." "Bo-Fang interest in this planet, I could understand." Elias went on. "A cast-down house, looking to restore its former glory. What better way than with the very tools that were used to diminish that glory? But why, I wonder, would the L'Traisan government be interested in the secrets of Nequencia III? Maybe you were worried that we would dig those tools up and misuse them? That would be quite responsible of you... but you've hardly conducted yourself in a responsible matter here. No, I would guess that you plan to retrieve the secrets of Nequencia III for yourself... to what end I can only wonder." Elias awaited a reply, but he received only a long silence. "If your people plan to use those tools, Ambassador," he continued. "It goes without saying what sort of instability you could cause in this region of the galaxy. The sort of instability that would most certainly fall under Earth jurisdiction." "The only one speaking lies is you." Miriola finally answered in a stern voice. "Your welcome here does not extend beyond your quarters, so make no attempt to leave them. Do not bother attempting communication with your vessel; the Gia-Mesu is now protected by a dampening field. If you require anything of us, simply ask--your quarters are being monitored. Good day, Captain." A click signalled that the comm had been cut. "My, what gracious hosts." Elias said as he lifted his legs onto the cot and stretched out. There was clearly no point in trying to escape his "quarters," so he could only enjoy this opportunity to relax away from his duties and wonder how his crew would deal with this situation...

"We are *not* giving this system up, Mr. Moore!" Admiral Gardner barked over the head of the MACO accompanying him and Elias to the turbolift. "Why is the fleet pulling out?" "We're stalling for time." Elias answered. "My scientists are working on evidence that the L'Traisans were involved in genetic research on their own people. It could be enough to scare them out of this system. Or not. We might have no choice but to give Nequencia up." "Unacceptable!" Gardner practically shouted as the group moved into the lift. The MACO escort tapped the control panel, indicating the launch bay. "The L'Traisan government has never made an official claim to this world. Our claim, however, is quite valid." "That is debatable, at best." Elias said. "The remains of L'Traisan soldiers are buried down there. But as I said, if we can prove--" "You *want* to abandon this world!" Gardner cut him off. "You've already said so! You want to tuck tail and run before the Romulans can show up investigating their lost spy ship. And now you're getting rid of me so that I can't stop you!" Elias stepped off the lift as it arrived and turned to face Gardner. "I am serving Starfleet! I have been doing nothing else since Challenger arrived in this system! Right now I have people working very hard to strengthen your hold on this world, as foolish as I think it is at this point. And I am moving you out of this system for your own safety because this may turn to violence. I would like nothing more than to make a Romulan backlash someone else's problem, but they obviously know we've established a presence here, so they'll be coming after us one way or another. Don't worry, Admiral, your war will be safe no matter what happens here." "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Gardner was fuming as he shoved the MACO aside and exited the lift. "You know damned well." Elias turned and walked toward the waiting shuttle pod. He didn't want this argument to delay Gardner's departure. "All you care about is weapons and fleet expansions. And if you don't have war on your mind, why do your friends in the Senate keep throwing words like 'retaliation' around?" "My friends in the Senate!" Gardner scoffed loudly. "You're practically never on Earth, and you think you know everything there is to know about Earth politics. I've grown bored of these 'shadow conspiracies' of Admirals running United Earth through their Senate puppets... and I am dismayed that one of my starship commanders gives any sort of regard to such nonsense. Be careful about throwing around such accusations, Mr. Moore, because my tolerance for you is waning fast." Elias stopped next to the shuttlepod's open hatch and stared back at Gardner without saying a word. The Admiral smirked cryptically before climbing aboard the pod. "Captain," Lieutenant Westler's voice emerged from Elias' communicator as he made his way back to the lift. "The L'Traisans are demanding that the fleet leave the system now." "Inform them once again that we're transferring personnel and that they'll have to wait--" "We did, but they just--" Aaron was cut off by a sudden flurry of voices in the background. "What is it, Lieutenant?" Elias asked as he reached the lift, but Aaron now sounded as if he was conversing with the Bridge crew. As Elias tapped the lift's control panel, it became clear what the problem was. There was no mistaking the tingling at the back of his neck. He'd felt it enough times by this point to recognize it at once. Aaron turned to face the lift as it arrived at the back of the Bridge. It was empty. T'Parek looked up from her station to report. "The L'Traisans have transported Captain Moore to their flagship."

NX-05 Challenger Mission Briefing -- February 5, 2156 The secret of the ancient tomb beneath Nequencia III was no longer a secret. A chamber concealed within the deepest recesses of the underground complex housed the tomb's "VIP's," warriors that had been altered on a genetic level. This is what had necessitated the construction of a defensive mega-weapon and this is what a crew claiming loyalty to the L'Traisan House Bo-Fang were willing to die for. There were still questions to be answered, however... such as the question of the incoming fleet of L'Traisan ships. The Bo-Fang captives in the brig claimed that the remnants of their house were spread throughout the galaxy; it wouldn't be a stretch to anticipate more Bo-Fang ships arriving to fight for Nequencia. But this fleet was en route from the L'Traisan system, and the Bo-Fang were remnants of a bygone era of L'Traisan politics, outlawed on their former homeworld by all accounts. On the other hand, if it was a fleet of the L'Traisan government, why were they spurning hails? As the away team returned from the planet and proceeded into medical decon, Elias read over a report that was passed on to him by Lieutenant T'Parek. It chronicled the history of House Bo-Fang. Their economic shrewdness and military cunning had allowed them to gain great prominence within ancient L'Traisa's feudal system; their lofty ambitions and unrivaled capacity for cruelty had allowed them to rise to the top. In the process, they had made a great many enemies, most prominent among them being the three Houses of the Alliance, whose warriors were buried beneath Nequencia III. Though the Alliance's war failed to crush House Bo-Fang, their efforts managed to weaken the Bo-Fang grip on L'Traisa, sending the ruling House on a path of self-destruction that gradually fostered the rise of a democratic government. This, the chronicle of House Bo-Fang's decline, was quite an interesting read, as it suggested a great deal of strife between the House's leaders, mostly over territories annexed from the Alliance. It suggested that House Bo-Fang loyalty, something that had never been strong to begin with amidst such apparent decadence, all but dissolved during the final years of the House's reign. Was this a crude portrait of the Bo-Fang painted by L'Traisa's modern leaders in an effort to discredit the society's feudal roots? Histories could easily be skewed, particularly in the aftermath of great political upheaval. But if there was any accuracy to these accounts, why was there a band of soldiers sitting in the brig claiming staunch loyalty to House Bo-Fang? There was another strange pattern being revealed to Elias by this report--Bo-Fang honor or, more appropriately, the complete lack of it. Accounts of battles between the Bo-Fang and the Alliance made several indications of honorable suicide being commited by defeated soldiers. What was strange to Elias was that these accounts indicated such acts being commited only by soldiers of House Moro-Gotu, one of the three Alliance Houses, never by Bo-Fang soldiers. Defeated Bo-Fang soldiers either surrendered to imprisonment (sometimes making frantic attempts to escape later) or bargained for defection (often ultimately betraying their new Alliance lords). This pattern continued straight on to the House's overthrow and the rise of democracy. Some Bo-Fang lords and vassals accepted their House's fall and moved on, others clung to power and either waged war against the new order or resorted to terrorism, but none of them commited shameful suicide, an act not uncommon to officers of deposed regimes. Suicide just wasn't a Bo-Fang thing. So why did 37 Bo-Fang warriors either transport themselves into space or turn their weapons on themselves in the wake of their ship's capture by Challenger's crew? "The more questions we answer, the more new ones crop up," Elias observed as he put down the report. "The L'Traisan fleet will be entering the system in 5 minutes," Aaron reported. With it, Elias imagined, more answers... and yet more questions...

If you look at it as a challenge, it might. :P But if you look at the Academies as hours of fun and entertainment with fellow Trekkies, you'll fly. Just learn the basics (www.stsf.net/howto.php) and pay attention when a GM tells you that you're doing something wrong (but don't get upset or discouraged if that happens), and you'll have an easy time.

NX-05 Challenger Mission Briefing -- January 29, 2156 Elias watched the viewscreen as the L'Traisan warship was "towed" around the planet. In this case, towing meant steering the ship via a remote computer uplink established by the Bridge crew. It had been possible, in part, because of the files on language and computer technology they had received from the L'Traisan homeworld and, in part, because the L'Traisans were ill prepared for such an advantage being possessed by a Starfleet crew. Elias imagined that the galaxy could be a much easier place if they could pull something like this off with Andorian or Klingon ships. "Let's keep her at a distance of 10,000 kilometers." Elias instructed Xiang. The L'Traisan vessel came to a stop on the screen. It wasn't the most impressive looking machine. It resembled a large bullet with four engine exhausts jutting out in an X formation. Couldn't have been very maneuverable, but it packed a punch. Its energy cannon was jutting right out from its nose, its resemblance to the weapons on the planet unmistakable. Obviously it also possessed a projectile launcher; Elias was still wondering at the magnetic disturbance caused by the probe it fire toward the pole. "The last of seven lifesigns have been transported into the Brig." Aaron reported. "Seven?" Elias asked. "Some of them found other ways to commit suicide..." The tactical officer answered grimly. Elias sighed. "Instruct the Brig guards to strip them of anything that could pass for a weapon... and watch them closely. Mr. Xiang, make sure that that ship is secured, then find a doctor and offer our new guests some medical assistance. Lieutenant Westler will be joining you shortly to question them." "Captain," T'Parek spoke up. "I am receiving a message from Commander Cole. The away team has lost contact with Lieutenant Grey..."

If I start saving up now, I should be able to buy a computer that can run that in about eight years. :P

NX-05 Challenger Mission Briefing -- January 22, 2156 Apparently, there are some L'Traisans very interested in what's on Nequencia III--interested enough that they're responding to Challenger's presence in the system with hostility. A L'Traisan warship claiming loyalty to the long dead House Bo-Fang has reactivated the weapons in the tomb and fired on Challenger. Its energy cannon requires recharging, so the crew has a window of opportunity to act. Challenger has not been able to disrupt the Bo-Fangs' uplink with the tomb's security systems. A single computer command may be all it takes for them to fire the tomb's weapons. The away team cannot rely on Challenger to neutralize this threat before they're reduced to vapor. They either need to disable the weapons directly or wrest control of them from the Bo-Fang permanently.

There's a bunch of information on the Challenger sim on our website, including some advanced info that touches on the sim's style. I link to it on the boards and in e-mails to new assignees, but those e-mails are mostly "the info is there for you to check out, see you Sunday." That's all I feel is necessary to get across to a player... try us out, get to know the other players, worry about the details later. I'm in favor of information availability, but I don't want new players to feel like I'm dropping a ton of homework on them their first week. Some (not all) players that are getting involved in simming for the very first time could feel overwhelmed, because a lot of it could be information they simply don't understand. Even the Moose Tips that are linked to in a lot of cadet-welcoming posts could come across as vague to a brand new cadet just trying to learn the basics. Might he get discouraged if he finds he doesn't understand the information? Or might he try too hard to mold his play to conform to the "accepted guidelines?" For advanced players, it's an excellent resource to have, but I'm always in favor of letting new players learn by experience, with the GM's and the more experienced players giving advice and encouragement by PM. Because there isn't a standard that all the sims conform to, and because individual players encounter different problems and have their own unique tastes, that kind of direct interaction can help far more than an archive of simming documents. Now, if a GM is distancing himself from the players, and that sort of interaction isn't taking place... well, that's a whole other problem. I myself have never brushed anyone off because I was too busy, nor have I indicated that anyone's opinions are not wanted. If you want to ask questions about Challenger or critique the sim, and you'd feel better doing so on a public forum, feel free to start a thread in our "Logs & Briefings" board. This board would be the place for comments or questions about the Saturday Academy or Redstar.

Most new players are just looking to join a sim and play. They aren't interested in any information beyond roster openings and the sim's setting (time period, faction, ship class, etc). Trying to tell them anything about sim styles would be dropping more information on them that may only end up confusing them. If they do something that clashes with the style of the sim, they'll be told about it (probably by the GM), and they can choose to either adjust their style or find another sim. By then, they, like you, should have enough experience and enough contact with other players to realize that their isn't a group standard. For a more experienced player, asking the GM's is always the best option. We're never too busy to answer PM's (it's our job) and no one knows more about the way our sims operate.

NX-05 Challenger Mission Briefing -- January 15, 2156 The underground complex is an ancient L'Traisan crypt. With members of the away team now succumbing to the illness, revealing its secrets has become a top priority. Is the existence of the energy weapons a simple matter of tomb defense, or is there a deeper secret being protected beneath the surface of Nequencia III? As for the primary weapon, the team has no choice but to establish control over it. The Admiral has decreed that the weapon is now Starfleet property; it will remain in tact and it will be used for colonial defense. Challenger is in contact with the L'Traisan homeworld and has received documents that should help the team figure out the technology.

"Mr. Westler, let's make sure the transmitter is the only thing down there, then we'll head back to the third planet. We've got to figure out what that weapon is really protecting..." The turbolift door slid open and Elias looked back to see Lieutenant T'Parek emerge, with Admiral Gardner right behind. "I advised the Admiral to return to his guest quarters, but he insisted on speaking to you." The Admiral was wearing a wry grin, but the signs of accumulated fury were written all over his face. "The weapon no longer poses a threat to Challenger, does it, Mr. Moore? So surely you can spare me a moment now... rather than throwing me off the ship again." Elias stood and headed briskly for his Ready Room. "I cleared you to come aboard, didn't I, Mr. Gardner?" "Oh indeed, without your clearance, how could I possibly do my job as one of Starfleet's flag officers?" Gardner said as he followed the Captain. The gazes of the Bridge crew followed them right into the Ready Room. Elias turned around at the front of his desk. "Alright, what the hell do you want?" He barked. Given events surrounding the Nequencian weapon, he was in no better a mood than the Admiral. "If you came out here to strip me of my command because of the Achilles mission, do it, by all means, now. But I don't appreciate you interfering with my authority in this system as long as I still have it." "I gave you that authority!" Gardner barked back, stopped short at the sofa in the office by Elias' attack. "Along with command of Challenger." "He giveth and He taketh away, right?" Elias answered mockingly. "Did you put me in command, drop me out here in front of the Romulans, just so you could ruin my career?" "You think I'm setting you up, is that it?" Gardner looked infuriated and made no attempt to hide it now. "You overestimate your importance to me." "Then why did you give me your vote? Why did you put me in command? Surely such a vital assignment couldn't have been left in the hands of one so unimportant." "You have importance to Starfleet. We're trying to place more youth at the upper levels of starship command and bring back our veteran officers to hold management positions at Headquarters. Bah!" Gardner waved his hand dismissively and settled onto the sofa. "Why am I even explaining myself to you? Such things are not your concern, and you are so damned narrow-minded you would never see it but your own way. Your crew is your concern and they have been nothing but hostile to me. If Admiral Leonard were here exerting authority over this project, no one would question him." "This whole project is my concern." Elias replied. "And the crew realizes that. Don't be so sure they'd be any more welcoming to another Admiral." "I've heard differently." Gardner said shrewdly. "I've heard that I'm a popular topic of discussion on board this ship, and we both know who would be to blame for that." Elias narrowed his eyes. "You've heard... what are you talking about? Has someone been sending you reports. Does this have something to do with that silly General Order you issued?" Gardner smirked. "I have sources everywhere, Mr. Moore, and I value being up to speed on the issues that are drawing the attention of our starships' crews. Don't worry your little heart... I didn't come here to drag anyone away in chains, and I didn't come here to strip you of your command. I came here to give you your next mission... but the emergence of this weapon and the small tragedy it precipitated will have to delay it." "Wasn't this project my mission?" Elias asked. "It hardly needs your constant supervision. Command decided that Challenger's original mission would be reopened once work on the facilities here began. You were to escort me into Romulan territory where we would attempt to initiate a dialogue with the leaders of the Romulan Star Empire." "I wouldn't bring you anywhere near the Romulans!" A shocked Elias said. Though his meaning was left vague, the Admiral did not look pleased. "Who made you Ambassador? And I thought Challenger's original mission was declared misguided when the Commodore was labelled a traitor?" "No one has been labelled a traitor." Gardner replied in an annoyed tone. "The Commodore is still under IA investigation and nothing has been proven either way... though we are becoming more concerned the longer he remains off our radars. We are becoming concerned about a lot of things that are going on on the political frontier, Mr. Moore. The urgency of peaceful contact with the Romulans is building; the chance of it is fading." "You realize what happened when the weapon fired?" Elias asked. "I saw it." Gardner nodded. "Which is why we must exert control over the weapon as quickly as possible." "We must destroy the damned thing is what we must do!" Elias barked. "A fool's course of action. That weapon will contribute to the colony's defense." "Colony?!" Elias exclaimed. "Have you lost your mind, Admiral? Do you know what's down there? It's a tomb! The workers are ill, and my crew is starting to join them. This project needs to be scrapped." Gardner laughed. "Don't tell me you're going to give me some pagan nonsense about burial ground curses. Our doctors will determine the cause of the illness and neutralize it. This is no curse we're dealing with, it's a blessing. Once that weapon is under our control, this colony will have the best defensive armament Starfleet can boast." "That weapon destroyed a Romulan ship." "Doing what, Mr. Moore?" Gardner asked. "Spying on us! Yet another cause for our growing concern. Nothing could better support the need to acquire control of the weapon." "And what if the Romulans come back here?" Elias asked. "Looking for their lost ship? And they see the weapon that destroyed it poking out of our colony? *That* would be a cause for concern." "Yes, it is quite possible that the Romulans will investigate what happened here and send someone to question us." Gardner said. "Which is why there is no longer any need for you to escort me into Romulan space. They will come to us now. And I will remain here to receive them." "You're staying? I ask again, Admiral... who made you an Ambassador? A diplomatic staff should be summoned here to deal with any Romulan response." "Our diplomats are experienced only in international politics. Starfleet has the experience with extrasolar species, so it stands to reason that Starfleet officials should handle extrasolar diplomacy." "A military agency should handle diplomacy?" Elias asked incredulously. "Starfleet has become more political in recent years." Gardner shrugged. "It worked for Captain Archer, didn't it?" "Jonathan Archer didn't advance through the ranks with combat victories..." Gardner appeared to be on the verge of snapping back, but he was interrupted by a communique from Lieutenant Westler. "Captain, we've received the data from L'Traisa. And three sensor sweeps have turned up nothing else on the surface." "I'm on my way. Set a course to the third planet." Elias cut the channel from the comm panel on his desk and looked back at Gardner. "Do you expect me to stand by while you take the attack on that Romulan ship and turn it into an even greater tragedy?" "I expect you to do whatever I tell you to do, Mr. Moore." Gardner looked at him with cold eyes and a colder grin. "Like it or not and regardless of your position here, you and your crew are still very much answerable to me. Ignore that, and then you may just find yourself stripped of your command." Elias let his gaze linger on the Admiral for a moment before leaving the Ready Room...