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Cptn Corizon

A Change of Pace

The Excalibur found herself flanked by three Satarimi cruisers, quite the welcoming party if you asked Corizon. At least, though, the so-called reclusive blue-skinned people seemed friendly enough. Actually, as races in the Gamma Quadrant went, they were down right hospitable. Of course, he reminded himself, with ships as well armed as there's you could afford to be a little less trigger happy.

 

Some thanks had to be given to Ambassador Jerella. She'd done a wonderful job of assuring their hosts of their peaceful intentions. Apparently, they were actually happy to meet someone who's only aim was exploration. Kindred spirits, perhaps?

 

The Satarimi had been fairly forthcoming in regards to the blood cult as well, a group they called the Cult of Iyves. That had come as a small relief to Corizon. Ever since that incident, the whole crew had been on edge, chomping at the bit for a measure of closure, perhaps the information contained in the packet they were preparing would yield that measure.

 

As for himself, it had been a stressful assignment. Not only because of the hazards of space travel, the angst of the unknown, the moral dilemma of helping the Dominion, but also the administrative conflicts of running a ship. True, he'd essentially been with most of the crew for over three years on both the B and the C, and they'd been through some hellish times together, but this was his first real mission in command with no one over him.

 

In spite of the command headaches, the crew did seem to be settling in on the new ship a little better. He'd wanted more shake-down time, but Starfleet had other plans. Bureaucrats. Some things were universal constants.

 

“Captain,” Petty Officer Eiago Salazar's lightly accented voice chirped through the communicator on the Dameon's desk. “The Satarimi are sending you the finalized schedule for our visit to their homeworld.”

 

What was that about universal constants? “Oh boy,” Corizon managed. “Send it along when it gets here and CC it to Commander JoNs and Ambassadors Jerella and Lexin.”

 

“Aye, Captain.”

 

A few moments later and the schedule was scrolling by on his desk unit. Jerella and Corizon had both agreed that even with their mission in mind, this was to good of an opportunity to pass up standard first contact procedures. As such, they'd spent the last several hours ironing out the schedule for exploration and cultural exchange between the Federation and the Satarimi Hierarchy.

 

From his brief glance over, it appeared fairly standard; the crew would spend the bulk of their time touring Satarimi facilities both in space and planetside, while another team would tour the Satarimi around the Excalibur and give them a basic overview of Federation history. Meanwhile Corizon, Lexin and Jerella would be busy with higher level talks with the Archprime Council concerning the Dominion and the Cult of Iyves.

 

The schedule was for a three-day engagement; the first two days would be filled with the aforementioned tours with evenings culminating in a cultural event, read: dinner, held respectively by the Satarimi and the Excalibur. The third and final day would be more open, with the Satarimi granting the Excalibur crew passes to experience the planet themselves without a guide. That evening, the Satarimi would be holding a formal gala ball to honor the successful first contact. Corizon was almost certain his crew was going to mutiny when they heard they'd be wearing dress uniforms for the bulk of the mission, and have to wear even more formal uniforms the final night with full regalia. But if they thought he was any happier about it than they were, they were sorely mistaken.

 

Although, if the worst thing that happened to them on this mission was having to wear an uncomfortable uniform, that would be an improvement.

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