Phillip Ellis

The light green-blue waters of Avalon laid glassily in the still afternoon, only the most subtle of waves crashed on the beach-head a few hundred meters away from the secondary Starfleet base, known as Bravo site. Originally intended for primary settlement, the base had morphed into something entirely different. While the primary site maintained a Denali-class communications array that proved more than sufficient for the purposes of relaying messages back and forth between Avalon, Camelot and the Federation-Bajoran colony at New Bajor, and Camelot maintained an advanced if-not secretive Surya-class array, there was a definitive lack of an ultra-long range array capable of broadcasting messages to Deep Space Nine and beyond as well as keeping links with the growing number of Allied vessels operating in the Gamma Quadrant. For a period of months, Starfleet had debated the solution to this problem. While they could bounce messages back and forth from Avalon Array to the New Bajor Caltris Communications Satellite and then on to Deep Space Nine; the Scorpiad seizure of the wormhole had show Starfleet the importance of having a long range array with MIDAS-capabilities. Problem there was, MIDAS was a large space borne array with a very technical set of operational limits as to its interquadrant communications abilities. That led Starfleet to dispatch some of its leading communications experts to the Gamma Quadrant to begin working on a solution. One of those men was Dr. Phillip Ellis, a leading expert in long range communications protocols and designer of the newest series of long range arrays to be deployed in the Alpha Quadrant, known as the Pheidippides Arrays. As he stood on the tranquil beaches of Bravo site, a large silver structure had taken shape behind him. Where only empty space had once been, a monument to cooperation was forming. The collaborative work of over seventeen scientists and dozens of civilian and military workers from the Romulan, Klingon and Federation governments, as well additional advisors from the Bajoran, Ferengi and Cardassian governments had contributed to the construction and design of the most technologically advanced communications array ever constructed; a harmonic merger of the best technologies from the Alpha Quadrant. Ellis’ light, red hair fluttered gently in the breeze as he smiled proudly. In a few hours, the first messages would be sent from what was to be dubbed the Bedivere Array to Deep Space Nine, followed by a series of tests on the effective range of the massive array and the network of uplinks that had been sent out to make the system less dependent on the availability of the wormhole. Essentially working off the same principals as MIDAS, Bedivere used a complex mixture of remote communication buoys dispatched throughout the intermingling space and the occasional bouncing off pulsars to achieve real-time communicative abilities with the Alpha Quadrant for a period of 25 minutes every seventy-two Camelot hours, and allowed for the sending and receiving of standard and complex data streams with a twelve-minute delay. It was, in a word, a technological tour de force. For Ellis, it was the work of a life-time put into practice. He’d come to Avalon expecting his stay to be short, or as short as possible. The reputation of the place was of a rough and tumble locale in the middle of a warzone, something akin to a resort in the middle of the Middle East circa 2000’s. Not exactly on the top of the list of vacation spots, if you got the drift. Perhaps that was what had surprised Eliis the most about this planet, and the system in general. While it still lacked in some of the modern amenities of the better developed colony worlds back in the Alpha Quadrant, the planet was safe and secure. And while the area of space around it seemed to be going to hell in a handbasket, life on Avalon and Camelot endured. Idyllic, calm, unspoiled—the stark contrast between hell and heaven had never seemed so clear. The draw was beginning to become apparent. Ellis had begun to understand why more and more civilians from the Alpha Quadrant had started settling the planet. Here, they could live their lives on the edge of the frontier, but safe enough to not worry about the neighbors showing up with guns when they asked for a cup of sugar. It was a draw that was beginning to tug at his heart strings as his time on Avalon began to come to an end. If the tests of Bedivere were successful, Starfleet and the Federation would no doubt have need of his service elsewhere. It left him a conundrum of choices. He’d spent nearly his entire life working for the Federation; and though born on Earth, he had never really found anyone place that he could call home. At his age, that was starting to feel like a problem. Retirement began looming on his mind. The peaceful waves, the tranquil environment and the chance at a new beginning here in the frontiers of exploration, combined with the opportunity to see his magnum opus grow and continue to develop was alluring. So much that he’d begun looking into securing long-term housing either at the Alpha base to the North or Camelot in orbit. A wistful sigh replaced his smile. These were tough choices he was going to have to make, but at the moment, he was content to simply stand on the beach, the soft sounds of gentle wave-breaks filling his ears as his life’s work cast a long shadow behind him.

Aug. 18, 2154 >Begin< The early Martian sunrise loomed across the horizon as Phillip looked out the window of the Utopia Planetia Yards. The day Phillip had been waiting for was finally coming. In just a few short hours he would be finished with the Challenger project. He could rid himself of the responsibility that had befallen on him, and he could go back to Alabama and enjoy normal gravity once more. At some level, he was going to miss the lady he had just barely begun to know. After all when you spend as much time with a ship as Phillip had, you begin to have a relationship with her. But being a shipwright meant that your relationship was cut short when your work on her was done. Phillip had known that for a long time, and had, unlike some of his workers, not built any special ties with the Lady Challenger. Regardless, Phillip wouldn’t be forgetting the experience of building her anytime soon. His workers, much to his and everyone else’s delight were finished their end of the project on Aug. 16, 2154 as expected. He had spent much of yesterday completing the final inspection, and today he would debrief his workers, send them on their merry ways, and turn the project over to Commander Moore. He looked out to iron-rich surface of the planet of war. He had a gut feeling that this was where the future of Earth construction lay. Something he wasn’t sure whether or not to be excited about. By the same token though, he was happy to never be coming back here anytime soon. His leadership of the lighting systems project after the move to Mars orbit had won him notice with more than just the GE top brass. Starfleet, of all people, had taken a liking to Phillip, he told himself it was the Southern charm, but he knew better. Say one thing for this Challenger project, it looked good on the résumé. He had received dozens of messages from Earth corporations with lucrative job offers for his services, and he had turned them all down. In fact he was even offered a foreman job on the Columbia project by GE, but he had turned that down as well. He had initially planned on returning to Alabama and doing nothing but resting for a few months, but Vice-Admiral Colt Monroe changed that plan. Monroe had personally come to ask Phillip to join Starfleet Academy. He had said that, “Ellis you’ve got potential, I won’t lie to you. In 2 months you resurrected a dead part of the program and got it done ahead of schedule.” Monroe continued, “We need people like you in the fleet. Sure you could land about any cushy job in the private sector you wanted right now. But Earth needs people like you.” Phillip didn’t exactly like the idea of going into the military; it wasn’t something that exactly thrilled him, but how could he turn Monroe down? So it was, he had agreed to join Starfleet. Starfleet agreed to give him the rank of Lieutenant and assign him to design unit at Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco. So much for the vacation time. Phillip turned his gaze away from the red surface of Mars and back to the room he had been standing in. His final duties on Challenger were ending, but his journey had just begun. >End<

CHALLENGER PROJECT STATUS REPORT Philip Ellis, Foreman-Lighting Systems General Electric July 30, 2154 To: Commander Elias Moore, Project Foreman CC: Commodore Moose >Begin Report< Overview: Working nearly round the clock, we are AHEAD of schedule. However, this must not be taken for granted, as I am sure you are aware of, it is only a matter of time before someone else decides to interfere with our work. Section 1: At present you will be pleased to note that, despite delays, we have completed 74% of the lighting project, well ahead of our estimates of 65% at this benchmark. >>Message Truncated<< Summary: In short, project is proceeding smoothly since the move to Mars orbit. We continue to work feverishly, our goal is to be finished no later than the middle of the next month. Lighting Systems Project Status:74% Completed Estimated Date of Completion:Aug. 16, 2154 >End Report<

PERSONAL LOG July 30, 2154 >Begin< Phil shuffled into his quarters on Mars. It was late, but then again that had became the norm for him. Ever since the project had moved to Mars, he and his teams had been working even longer than they had before, rushing to get everything done. He didn’t even bother to turn on the lights as he collapsed in a heap on the bed. So far everything was going smoothly again. With the Vulcans more or less out of the picture, the humans were left to their own devices, something that Phil was pretty thrilled about. They might be well meaning, but he wasn’t exactly thrilled to have them looking over his shoulder second guessing every procedure. The clock next to his bed read “0230” Earth time. Phillip grunted as he reached over to set the alarm for 0600. He had a report due at 0730 to Commander Moore, then he had to brief the brass at General Electric at 0830 via sub-space communication. At 0945, he had to return to Challenger to begin inspections. With just over a month to go, everything had to go just right—they couldn’t afford anymore delays. He sighed, turned over and tried not to think about it as he crept off to dreamland. >End<

::claps:: Here, Here. The Godfather Trilogy are IMO among the best movies ever made. And it is sad to lose another great talent. :mellow: Marlon Brando will be remebered eternally for "Making an offer you can't refuse."

PERSONAL LOG 0407.02 Phillip’s transport lifted slowly off the ground at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport; it was the last flight to the Lunar colony of New Berlin. From there he supposed he’d catch a connecting flighty to Mars. As the shuttle lifted, Phillip looked around him; the few times he had flown before it had been coach aboard crowded outdated transports with babies screaming, old ladies complaining, and little kids kicking at his seatbacks. But as he looked around, there weren’t any babies screaming, no old ladies were complaining about the quality of the drinks, and there weren’t any kids kick his seat backs. In fact as he looked around—there wasn’t anyone around him. He tapped the button on the surprisingly cushy chair. “Umm Stewardess?” A few seconds later a tall bold girl wearing a light blue uniform came in pushing a cart. “Yes Mr. Ellis?” Phillip’s jaw dropped—she knew his name? “Uhh, yeah” he said stammering a bit, his cheeks turning a light red. ”Uhh, I was wonderin’ where everyone else was?” The stewardess giggled. “There are no other passengers in the Executive Suite.” Phillip blinked, “Did you just say the Executive Suite?” Again the stewardess giggled at Phillip. “Yes, I did. GE must think an awful lot of you; we’ll be stopping by New Berlin for refuel thin we will proceed onto Mars.” “Well I’ll be…” She winked at him. “If you need anything, give me a call, I’m at your service.” With that she smiled and then pushed the cart towards the rear of the aircraft. After she left, Phillip just sat in his large comfy chair shocked the GE was flying him first first class to Mars. He looked out the window to his right. Earth filled the window. He thought he could almost see his home back in Alabama, but he knew that was silly. A few minutes latter, Earth started growing smaller and smaller. In a few hours he’d be in orbit of Mars. How things have changed.

PERSONAL LOG Stardate 0407.01 >Begin Log< Philip slid his clearance card in the door lock. The light turned green, and the door slowly slid open. Since the terror attacks on the Challenger, security had been upgraded to prevent another disaster. In the attacks, several of the GE Engineers that had been running the Lighting Project had been severely wounded. Including the foreman Thankfully, Phillip hadn’t been one of the workers who had went to install the systems that day, but his foreman had and he was now recuperating in a hospital. Philip was chosen to replace him. It was a big responsibility and Phillip wasn’t sure he was up to it, but he figured he could manage until his foreman was able to come back to work. As he entered the compound, he found, much to his surprise, the place crawling with technicians and cargo handlers all putting things in boxes and cargo containers. One of them wearing a Fleet uniform came up to him. “Hi, I am Lt. Kosinsky, you must be Phill Ellis?” “Uhh…yeah, that’d be me,” he looked a little dumbfounded. “Why?” “Fleet has deicded to move the operation to Mars Orbit…” Kosinsky didn’t get to finish. “They’re doin’ what???” “They’re moving the…” “I heard yah, I ain’t deaf.” “You wanna tell me why?” “Commodor Moose felt the project would be safer, and also most of the ship builders are from Mars.” Phil ran his hands through his hair. “I’ll be dawg-goned,” he said. “Well I guess I am not one to argue with the Fleet brass, I guess GE gave ya’all the go-ahead to move this operation did they?” Kosinsky smiled. “Yes they did, and they said that your in charge of the operation now, was my information incorrect?” “No, I suppose not,” Phillip sighed at the officer. “When do we leave for Mars?” “I was wondering when you’d ask that,” Kosinsky said smiling. “Your transport leaves in 7 hours.” “Where are we going to finish the work on what isn’t done?” Kosinsky smiled wryly. “On site.” Phillip shot the young officer a look. “On site?” “Yes, we don’t have the time and resources to set you up shop on Mars, so your teams will be working on-site,” Kosinsky said. “Is that a problem?” “No its not.” “One more thing Mr. Ellis,” Kosinsky said. “Fleet has requested, and GE agreed, your teams are also now in charge of all the Electrical systems on the Challenger.” Phillip’s eye grew wide. “Nice of GE to tell-me.” Kosisnky laughed. “That’s why I was sent, I am to be your right-hand man now, the fleet is giving you full disposal of 5 of its engineering teams in addition to your own civilian teams.” “Well, I suppose ya’don’t take no for an answer do’ya?” Again Kosisnsky just laughed. “I suppose I better be packing my things to go to Mars,” Phillip said resigningly, space travel wasn’t exactly what he had in mind for himself when he took this job.”If you need anything, just call me.” Kosinsky nodded. “Yes Sir.” >End Log<

PERSONAL LOG June 7, 2003 >Begin Log < The sun had set along time ago. But sounds of men working, of metal being welded and sparks were still flying in Spokane, Washington. Phillip finished putting together a trellis for a bridge lighting panel and sighed deeply. It was past midnight and he hadn’t stopped working in two days. Despite the setback from the Vulcans, their was still a deadline to be met, and by golly it was gonna be met. Phil was a lot of things. But he wasn’t someone to miss a deadline, and neither was General Electric. The order had came straight from corporate—the teams would work until the bridge lighting was done, regardless of how many man hours that would be. Phil shook his head. Working men to death wasn’t all that efficient, but what did he know? He wasn’t a Vulcan after all. Just as he was getting ready to move onto another trellis, one of the Vulcan safety ‘experts’ came strolling over to ‘inspect’ the piece Phil had just finished. “Hmmm…,” the Vulcan nodded emotionlessly as he tapped something on a data pad. “Mr…Ellis…rewire section B3-K of this trellis, its not satisfactory.” Phil’s mouth dropped open; he did it exactly how it was supposed to be done. “What d’ya mean it ain’t satisfactory?” The Vulcan looked at him flatly. “Exactly what it sounds like, would you like me to sue another one of your primitive euphemisms? I believe ‘It is not up to snuff’ would be the proper phrase no?” Phil could tell he was turning a light shade of red. “Now Mr. Vulcan, we have done everything y’all asked for. We completely re-did this section because y’all said it wasn’t up to ‘your’ standards. Fine. So we start all over again workin’ round the clock with your designs. I did this exactly as y’all told us to do…and what do you tell me I need to do….do it over AGAIN? Now, where I come from, that ain’t right. And you better tell me why I gotta do it again.” Most of the other workers had started to notice as Phil’s Alabama drawl was getting more and more pronounced. The foreman had taken notice too and was making his way over. The Vulcan was still standing there unmoved. That was the thing that got Phil more than anything else—how they could rip you off and keep a straight face. Blasted Green Blooded Pointy Eared… Phil’s thoughts were cut off by the voice of the foreman. “Phil what’s going on here.” He didn’t even get to answer…blasted Vulcans. “Nothing,” the Vulcan said quickly. “Mr. Ellis and I were having a discussion about why this trellis needs further work. I assure you, you don’t need to trouble yourself any further.” “Phil?” Phil begrudgingly nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure it’s done.” “Alright then.” As the Foreman walked away, the Vulcan spoke again. “If you look again you will notice that at section B3-K there are some insulated wires that aren’t using the new insulation we have supplied, that could cause a potential risk if the Challenger was attacked with energy weapons.” Phil looked and sure enough, it wasn’t the right wire. “Well I am sorry for all the ruckus, and thanks for pointing that out too me—but next time tell me what you just told me and not what you did the first time, ok?” “So Noted…” With that the Vulcan was gone and onto pester someone else. Again Phil really wondered if those Vulcans knew how annoying they really were, but he supposed that was just their nature. They really were trying to help the humans—but wow were they smug about it. >End Log<

PERSONAL LOG June 7, 2003 >Begin Log < It was a sunny day in Spokane, which made Phillip happy. That seemed to be the only thing going right lately. Yesterday for example, his team had finally finished all the lighting work for the bridge unit. Four hard days of work, long ones at that. And just before the lighting systems were to be loaded and sent to San Francisco, some Vulcan ‘Safety’ inspector came by and ruled that the product didn’t meet “Vulcan standards.’ Phil wanted to go up to that green blooded, pointy-eared dog and deck him right then and there. The lights met human standards, and as far as Phil was concerned, that was good enough, to heck with the Vulcans. Smug green bloods, always looking down on ‘the emotional’ humans. But as always, the General Electiric people gave in to the ‘whims’ of the Vulcans, and Phil and his team had to start all over so that the system met ‘Vulcan’ standards. So here Phil was, on his ‘day-off’ working on the same system he had worked on for the last four days. And as he did he wondered if the Vulcans realized how annoying they really were. >End Log<

PERSONAL LOG June 4, 2003 >Begin Log < For the past 5 weeks, Phillip had been on a relatively small team constructing the internal lighting systems for the Challenger. The work had been slow and easy, no rush. But following the announcement from Commodore Moose—things had moved to a feverish pitch. The team that had been comprised of only 4 workers building the lighting on section at a time, was now a team of 160 building 40 sections at a time. The idea, or so his foreman said, was for everything to be built at one time then put together in the final stages. Quite the undertaking. Today Philip and Team 6 were preparing lighting for main engineering It was 1500 hours and Phillip had been working since 0500 this morning. He needed a break. “Hey Tom, I am going to grab something to eat,” he said to one of the other guys working next to him . “You think y’all can manage with out me?” Tom nodded to Phillip. “Sure, you worked during the lunch break so go right ahead.” Phillip smiled and started towards the lunch room. The facility was huge and the lunch room was a long ways off, giving Philip time to think. He’d barely graduated from the University of Alabama wen he was hired by General Electric and put on the Challanger Project. Now less than a month later he was working at their assembly plant in Spokane, Washington. Philip sighed deeply. He was barely 22 and already he was a working stiff. “Some life this is.” He made his way into cafeteria. He ordered a grilled cheese and bowl of soup. A few minutes later the chef slid a plate across the counter. Phillip carried his ‘lunch’ to a table and sat down to eat. He was no more than three bites into the grilled cheese when Tom came walking in. “Hey Phil we need your help with the trundle buffer return switch. Care to come give us a hand.” Phillip wanted to eat, he also knew that if he didn’t do it and they screwed something up, he would fill bad about. He put the sandwich down and headed back to the grindstone. Such is the life of the working stiff. >End Log<

Can I Have: Mmm the smell of blood in the morning