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FredM

GM Council
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About FredM

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    Academy God
  • Birthday 04/26/1981

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    CaptainFredM
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    http://www.ussreaent.com
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    Florida, U.S.A.
  1. Captain’s Personal Log Final Entry - Stardate 1511.05 U.S.S. Reaent, NCC-3345-G Reflection can be a powerful thing. It is a tool and resource of the mind allowing perspective to be applied. From events of the future to evaluation of actions long before, the instrument of reflection some have argued is one of the most powerful capabilities of most intelligent species. Learning, knowledge, anticipation and expectation all have foundations based on this one simple trait. Through proper usage, great things can be accomplished with reflection. It can bring joy; it can bring sorrow. A trait that is a foundation to the concept of history...today it was all that was left. Over a month had passed since the final return of the U.S.S. Reaent to Sector 001. Nearly a month since a final farewell. Yet in the immediate aftermath, in some ways, things had almost seemed as if business as usual was taking place. Activity aboard the ship had actually peaked. Corridors that had been silent were once again alive. A visit to Main Engineering might cause someone great confusion since the level of activity mirrored something normally seen during an emergency situation. Truth be told, in an odd way, the Reaent had been alive more now than in recent memory. Much to his shock, there had even been several crew berthing assignments the day after. Outside of a sudden replacement of familiar faces with new ones, if a person had been hiding under a rock they might not have known. But then the moment had come forcing recognition of what had actually occurred. Like a stalker hiding in the shadows, it had struck with such power and force, it would stop a Pandarian in their tracks. For all the activity, all the energy and even the momentary glimpse of life, was fleeting. It had been out of habit. Unconsciously, it was built into a routine that had been followed more than a thousand times. The alarm indicating the start of the shift had sounded. The same buttons had been pressed to silence it, the same actions taken to confirm the decision. Business as usual, the sounds of a normal day. Until the doors opened. A gift from the Almighty had been given at that exact moment. He had been alone, else others would have seen the painful anguish which immediately consumed his entire being to the point of tears. Silence had once again been found, falsely hiding until the timing was just right. He had walked onto a bridge, a ghost of its former self, for a shift that no longer existed. The once mighty command center of the starship Reaent was now dark, the few monitors or stations who were illuminated displayed a static message confirming monitoring by Starbase operations. Not a soul was present, no evidence of life existed. Three weeks later, the final day of residency had come. While of course work would continue, it would be the conclusion for anyone to call the Reaent home. It had become public in the previous weeks that Starfleet Command was not currently pursuing plans for another vessel to bear the name anytime soon. As a result, a very real possibility existed that it would be the final day of residency…period. The day had gone well, like so many that occurred in the last month. Of course, it was until the need for a particular record locator number. A minor inconvenience, the research simply required pulling a copy of a computer data file number from the Reaent’s last long range sensor scan for a mundane report intended to give context to archival processes of the main computer. It was a simple task. But then he had run into a problem. Where was the log entry? The LCARS network was displaying copies of entries for other ships and installations, but not one for the Reaent. Why had this occurred? Was some moron’s stupidity with records really going to cause a simple task that should take 5 minutes to last 5 hours only because…. Silence made itself known. In part due to a mistype, it became clear why he was unable to locate the file. He was looking under a category of current and active operations. What he wanted was much further near the bottom. After some scrolling, there it was…where it had been all along. As the day had come to a close, he stood staring down an empty corridor at the airlock. The night shift had concluded work hours ago and most activity for the day involving the transfer of excess equipment had been completed for the week. Silence once again moved in. This time however, he met this phenomenon with a smile. The shift he had reported for weeks earlier out of habit would have been starting soon. The nerve centers of the ship would be alive with activity. The powerful might that was the Reaent would be engaged in another interesting excursion in the galaxy. It was here, in this moment, he realized it still was. Glancing up, then left and then right, the smile simply wouldn’t fade. Several moments later, the echoes of his departure were gone. The chimes sounded and 2200 was upon her. She was alone, at peace, at rest…at the end. “May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be ever at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rainfall softly on your fields. And until we meet again, may God hold you in the hollow of his hand.”
  2. “Questions” Personal Log – Stardate 1510.08 What was there to say? What was there to do? How does a person come to terms with the ever constant passage of time? Activities and events have a way of keeping one occupied, often allowing such thoughts to escape without much consequence. For some, it was a welcome diversion. Indeed, many were moving on and still had the peak they wished to climb in the future. Their trek was not complete while for others it would indeed be a difficult period. Was reflection always this doubled edged sword? Was there consolation for those who had made it this far when they looked back at those who had not? When his career had launched, Starfleet operated with energy like no other. A fire raged in the hearts of all who served, a desire to be a part of something all knew was special. The size and depth of the fleet was something beyond imagination. They had been good times. But it had been later that the true power of those moments would become clear…when they no longer existed. Knowing that this was a fact, he had made a point to only focus ahead and not get caught up with things beyond his control. While a safe method that had worked quite well for the last thirteen years, there was only one problem with this plan. What happens when there is no tomorrow? It had been here, as he sat listening to the chimes noting Midnight had passed many hours ago, it started to sink in. From a generation with such great promise and pride in what they did, even now less and less remained to recount their tails. Stories, faces, people and places. Enemies, friends…family… were slowly being consumed by the silence of time. While of course operations always moved forward, and a new generation would advance further than one could possibly imagine, it would not be the same way they had done it. The intimacy of how they had all kept that firing burning was something a faster generation simply didn’t have time for. When the numbers had been calculated, less than ten percent of them were actually left. These were the names he had grown up knowing, the friends he had built bonds to last a lifetime. They had but was that what was ahead? Everyone knew a lifetime would eventually come to an end…but it would be a problem for someone else. Obviously it wasn’t something urgent until suddenly it was. Until suddenly it was your turn. He was sitting at a window buried deep in a Jefferies Tube, likely a location no one had been in for quite some time. In many ways it reminded him of where he had first called home. It was a spot not much larger than this and the Odyssey was known for many such places. Then again, they had an advantage way back then and for the first time in nearly two decades he had a craving for something fresh from the C&E Brewery. The isolation had been designed to give him a few moments of pause. He hadn’t moved in over five hours. A sense of dread kept trying to move into his mind…the knowledge soon the silence would consume them. The intent was to force himself to come to terms with what was about to take place. Terms…as if a contract had been signed. Originally, these feelings had not been expected but then everyone probably said that. The problem was, after hours of reflection, he had more questions than answers. What was there to say? What was there to do? How does a person come to terms with the ever constant passage of time? How does a person not weep…at that one final bow…where they say goodbye?
  3. www.ussreaent.com Dear Friends, Within the world we live today, many things come and go but on occasion we can take a moment to recognize those precious items that endure. All members of the STSF community are invited to join the crew of the U.S.S. Reaent on 8th of October, 2015 at 10:00pm ET for a special evening. This particular Thursday night will be one of a kind! All members of the community are invited to join the crew of the Reaent as they celebrate The 20th Anniversary of the game. Indeed milestone many could only dream of and worth recognition alone, yet another significant event all are invited to join in. With what will be a 20 year +1 day life, the 8th of October 2015 will also mark the Final Sim of U.S.S. Reaent and the last moments of gaming for her crew. Completing a story arc that has spanned 12 months leading up to this moment, after two decades and over a thousand adventures, the Reaent will be coming to a close. A founding member of the Star Trek Simulation Forum, the game helped to launch two simming groups with over seventy-three thousand hours of gaming during her time. It will be an evening of celebration and thanks, one where we take a moment to show appreciation for the nearly five-hundred players who have helped to keep a simple weekly diversion compelling for longer than shows such as ER or M*A*S*H. We encourage everyone within the community to be a part of this evening, joining us as we commemorate what is and remains the U.S.S. Reaent. All are encouraged to take a moment to view the Commemoration Video posted on the ship's website at www.ussreaent.com. We hope to see everyone Thursday, the 8th of October 2015, starting at 10:00pm ET in the Ready Room chat...one last time. Sincerely Yours, -Fred Michaels
  4. www.ussreaent.com Dear Friends, Within the world we live today, many things come and go but on occasion we can take a moment to recognize those precious items that endure. All members of the STSF community are invited to join the crew of the U.S.S. Reaent on 8th of October, 2015 at 10:00pm ET for a special evening. This particular Thursday night will be one of a kind! All members of the community are invited to join the crew of the Reaent as they celebrate The 20th Anniversary of the game. Indeed milestone many could only dream of and worth recognition alone, yet another significant event all are invited to join in. With what will be a 20 year +1 day life, the 8th of October 2015 will also mark the Final Sim of U.S.S. Reaent and the last moments of gaming for her crew. Completing a story arc that has spanned 12 months leading up to this moment, after two decades and over a thousand adventures, the Reaent will be coming to a close. A founding member of the Star Trek Simulation Forum, the game helped to launch two simming groups with over seventy-three thousand hours of gaming during her time. It will be an evening of celebration and thanks, one where we take a moment to show appreciation for the nearly five-hundred players who have helped to keep a simple weekly diversion compelling for longer than shows such as ER or M*A*S*H. We encourage everyone within the community to be a part of this evening, joining us as we commemorate what is and remains the U.S.S. Reaent. All are encouraged to take a moment to view the Commemoration Video posted on the ship's website at www.ussreaent.com. We hope to see everyone Thursday, the 8th of October 2015, starting at 10:00pm ET in the Ready Room chat...one last time. Sincerely Yours, -Fred Michaels
  5. “Power Of The Final Scene.” Personal Log – Stardate 1508.10 Silence. Often overlooked by many, the power the lack of distraction can provide is something extraordinary. Throughout history, times of reflection and profound decision have been made in such a state. The ability to singularly focus and not be sidetracked is a critical component to the success of many endeavors. Yet more often than not, a mind might wonder into a more contemplative state. Here, sometimes, the sounds of prior decisions or events might once again be heard. The environment a person surrounds themselves in might surrender, even if only briefly, echoes of the past. Many times these reflections help to inform future decisions…most times. At a certain point, decisions lose their power. Events or circumstances reach a stage of controlling themselves. Here, reflection and history hold no benefit as the path no longer allows any change. Often, this situation comes at a time when a finale is on the horizon. If done correctly, a person’s decisions have served them well and postponed this eventual fate as long as possible. A constant truth of the universe is that whether for good or for evil, nothing can last forever. During such events, it is here the echoes of the past latch onto the moments of silence for a new purpose. Instead of informing decisions, they proclaim in a loud voice history and meaning to all that has come before. Sometimes this can include ghosts of the past. Sometimes this can include the worn faces of the present, many who look back with nostalgia at things that will never come again. It is here, in this place, that silence provides possibly the greatest power ever. While no longer designed to provide informed decisions, instead it presents something new: joy and sorrow. When one takes a moment to look back at the road they have traveled, often there is a sense of joy at the accomplishment of making it this far. Yet through that process, there is a pain of sorrow. The loss of persons no longer present and joyous events that will never come again. It is at this moment that both emotions begin to inform the future. While decisions will not change, the recognition that an ending is near provides deep power. A person has the ability to hold on to the memories that still remain and to cherish the so few encounters still to come. It is an advantage to know in advance that when the final act is over both joy and sorrow will become the same thing. Here, pride in the accomplishment and in the adventure itself will become the cherished heirloom. It will be something tangible, to be protected and held sacred forever. A person will emotionally and physically wrap themselves up in this powerful device, no different than a warm blanket on a cold winter night. It is our attempt to hide another, final, emotion that will always remain. The pain of absent friends, of now distant relationships, of celebrations that will never come again….the pain of silence where there was once such joy. The curtain was about to rise for one final act. The intent and mission were clear. Now was a time for focus, to embrace these sacred moments that would never come again. Here, for one last time, they would rise to their feet and make themselves known. For two decades the show had endured, from one theatre to another. They would have one last scene…one last night…one final farewell. By the time they reached the closing bow, twenty years and one day would be the final mark. Over seventy-three hundred hours will have passed. Hundreds of lives had been touched, for many becoming a permanent place in their heart. It would be an October like no other. After all, it would be their last together.
  6. The Perspective Of The Galorndon Core Evacuation Stardate 1411.13 Even under the best of circumstances, it was a chess board any sane individual would take great efforts to avoid. A fleeing civilian population caught between two titans preparing for war. Throughout the lessons of history the often futility of such situations was well documented. It honestly didn’t matter what species the teaching hailed from, those that would judge rarely looked kindly on such circumstances. Yet as horrible as that would have normally been, the circumstances of the day were far worse than anyone aboard the Reaent had realized. As historians and scholars would debate in the decades to come, when the USS Churchill and USS Reaent encountered the massive firefight occurring in the middle of nowhere, they had no idea of what had taken place before. In what would be called the Galorndon Core Evacuation, although the system itself was one light year away, it was the only system visible on sensor scans during the conflict. It had been here that the Federation Council had given permission for Starfleet’s Tenth Fleet, led by the USS Apollo, to enter the Neutral Zone. Yet not even six hours after the orders had been issued, the need to act had once again become to gruesome to ignore. The scene had been simple. A large group of civilian ships had been seen moving from the Devron system towards Starbase 10. The fleet of nearly fifty had suddenly changed course, clearly attempting to avoid something they detected but no one else could see. “At first, we thought it would be a six minute fight. The simply time it would take to aim and fire with that many ships. But when the Tal Shiar Fleet decloaked and opened fire, they were totally unprepared for what was waiting,” Apollo Executive Officer Commander Terrell Gonzalez would recount later. What actually happened was the first visual record of what everyone had been suspecting for weeks. The elite intelligence group of the Romulan Star Empire was taking advantage of the power vacuum that now existed. Their goal was simple: defeat anyone not loyal to their cause through any means necessary. This required tools and resources of course, which many helpless civilians were happy to provide….one way or another. In the weeks that had followed however was a rapidly changing mindset from the remaining structure of the Romulan Navy. With most centralized command and control out, local divisions had turned to the only place they could to seek aide…and it only served to further infuriate the Tal Shiar. “What decision was there? We were to protect the Romulan people, even from ourselves,” Major Vreenal recounted years later. So when the Tal Shiar fleet decloaked to take the resources they so desired, there was never an expectation that a fleet of similar size was lying in wait. There had not even been the exchange of pleasantries before the Romulan warbirds had decloaked and fired on what had been their own intelligence agency. In a few precious moments, the civilians had increased speed with their Romulan protectors providing as much time as they could. More would have been provided of course of there had been a full understanding of the second Tal Shiar fleet that was within range, they had actually been late due to the need to engage a Romulan warbird the Reaent and Churchill were quite familiar with. Yet that is when the formerly brilliant statisticians of the intelligence agency had been in error. Within less than two light years to the border, the Tenth Fleet had crossed to intercept the civilians and escort them to Starbase 10. The Tal Shiar had found the need to immediately redeploy to prevent such an act, believing their former comrades would join in arms against Starfleet. Instead, the reverse had occurred. The Reaent and Churchill had entered the equation after forty-five minutes of the intense fighting. It would not end for another four hours. While the tactical contribution of the Reaent, incapacitated and showing her age, would be questioned; the results would not. As the conflict raged on, over thirty civilian ships from freighters to civilian cruise liners would follow the Ambassador Class vessel out and to safety. While others from the Tenth Fleet dealt with aggressors, fighters from the Churchill would support the Reaent’s efforts of simply focusing on keeping those who were innocent alive. It had mostly worked. Once the dust settled, a total of thirty-eight non-combat vessels were under power and in one piece. Due to the ongoing chaos of the region and war, they sat inside a remote section of the Gamma Hydra system…waiting. With a CAP protection being provided by two quadroons from the Churchill, who herself had gone back to the conflict to aide in cleanup, the Reaent found herself sitting as the ship in charge…and in silence. The fact was, there was no way of knowing if another Tal Shiar fleet was in waiting or not. The only other military vessel was one moderately damaged Romulan Valdor Class Cruiser. At least they would be providing a refuge for the Reaent’s guests and a purpose once again, at least once the transporters were online again. During the efforts however, the Tenth Fleet had continued to engage…at least as best one could. Throughout it all, the Reaent herself had physically come out of the conflict in good shape. There had never been an opportunity to fire one of the tactically unstable torpedoes developed by Mr. Shamor, more out of a fear it would destroy too many ships at once than effectiveness. Despite runs on duct tape, shields had held…hull breaches had not reopened into the great void beyond. They sat about the way they had entered, minus a few injuries. Now the game was a simple one…don’t let anyone find you and get to safety as fast as you can. So the fleet sat in radio silence. Advance to Starbase 10 near Deneva? Divert deeper into Federation space? Hide in the Devron system instead? These were the questions….ones needed answers. They were also ones that couldn’t be answered, at least not yet.
  7. Lmao, seriously? You think WE don't already know the address? Dear Lord, as I sit here in Hunt Valley less than a mile from where chaos started, if we want to know we will find out.... BTW, Kirk and Spock or Wesley and Picard? :)
  8. Feeling my age? Dear Lord yes...I was looking at old Shore Leave Pictures thinking back. Then realized I was looking at photos that were 15 years old. Then I started to try to tell myself that wasn't the case, realizing that...assuming I don't quit...next year would mark 20 years since I graduated "Starfleet" Online Academy. I mean, two decades? Really? Almost 15 years since the great ACI scourge? 15 years since HOST OGF and all that garbage? Nearly 17 years since anyone gave a damn about owning PowerTools and understanding you could write it off as a business expense? 15 years...since...hair...
  9. Outstanding, thank you for the help. Now though, which one to get him...and where do I send it? I will leave it up to the community, as a 12th Anniversary gift. Option A ) Mail it to his home. Option B ) Mail it to work, FedEx, direct signature confirmation required. Discuss. ;)
  10. God just reading those names brought me back...
  11. Ah yes, Shore Leave...going back this year. I can't remember the layout of the dealer's room exactly, so I must go (if nothing else than to buy A9 one of those Spock/Kirk stories for his lunch time reading). And to think, all of this mess started...there. Oy. As for my windows....
  12. ::drops a pin::
  13. “The Journey.” Stardate 1402.20 As with everything in life, expectations and aspirations are a key component of success. The need to ensure that an individual has a systematic process in place to think globally, to think of the big picture, is something vital. A part of that process is sometimes viewing data to see what information it may provide for the future. What trends are present? Are things on track for continuous improvement? Are there problems which need to be addressed? Simply put, where are we and where are we going? The problem with this picture is that sometimes…most times…eventually a person must accept the prospect of diminishing returns. In all aspects of life, as time moves on, the energy required to keep moving forward increases. Suddenly, that same energy is now required just to keep from moving backwards. Finally, in the end, a slow decline begins. Sometimes this is because of circumstances under one’s control. The trend is known, actions can be taken to try to improve and time exists to help the situation. Continuous improvement can restart the cycle and reset the clock. Most times, but not all. With their success in finally putting to put an end to a dark episode in Starfleet history, the accolades which were originally given had been deserved. The organization which had eluded the efforts of two of the galaxy’s major super powers was brought to justice. Those involved would never again be in a position to cause the level of devastation seen a decade before. Plans they had been developing over the years for a future attack thwarted. As one Admiral had put it “a solid win for the good guys.” Then the meeting had turned to the aftermath. A weapon of mass destruction had been used not only once but twice in as many months. Public fear and recognition that planetary systems were being destroyed for no good reason were creating panic not seen since the Soran incident almost two decades earlier. The realization that a rogue power had not only developed such technology but actually used it was causing concern everywhere. Privately, every intelligence service known in two quadrants were questioning if this was to become the new norm in the future. Yet for McQueen, the aftermath was more direct. The forces involved in the mission had taken catastrophic losses by most standards. The loss of life had been high and with over 2,000 still listed as missing in action. For her part, the Reaent had succeeded in taking yet another pounding but succeeding in the ultimate goal. It was the latest in a series that seemed to be haunting the ship, causing some within the Starfleet Corps. Of Engineers to jokingly note “Reaent: We Really Need Repairs” should become the new motto of the vessel. The problem was, diminishing returns had caught up. Since the launch of the Ambassador Class starship series, the surviving fifteen ships of the class had all been through at least two major refits. Seven, including the Reaent, had completed a third within the last five years. These modifications had been intended to attempt to keep them practical assets for a changing environment. It was not an unheard of practice and had become quite common over the past quarter century within the fleet. One only needed to look at the still utilized Excelsior, Oberth or Miranda class vessels to see the success of the program. Although they had reset the clock, it had not been stopped. Within the past decade, new Nova Class starships had almost completely replaced the entire Oberth science vessel fleet. The defining Miranda Class starship design, within over 110 years of service, was rapidly being phased out of service by the Intrepid Class. Even the Excelsior class was slowly giving way to the new Vesta Class explorers. For Reaent, time had finally caught up to her. By the time the mighty ship had docked, the laundry list of repairs that were outstanding was an impressive one. However, alone these were not the major problem. A hull breach could be repaired, conduits replaced, sections completely rebuilt. Heck, one simply had to look at the Enterprise-E to see how much of a ship could simply vanish and yet still be back on the front lines within a few months. The problem was the Reaent-G was not a Sovereign Class vessel and it was showing. Over thirty percent of the ship was in need of essential reconstruction. Another fifteen percent required substantial repair. A late thank you gift from recent adventures, space frame stress points which had been monitored since the ship’s carrier refit were worsening into micro-fractures. Fifteen had been identified so far…that was just in the drive section. The ship’s EPS grid was now due for a complete overhaul. The warp core had been scheduled to be replaced a year ago, only to have the process delayed because of problems making the newer technology compatible with the older structure of the ship. Even one of the auxiliary computer cores was hitting an end of life cycle milestone. So what does one do when you have half of an aging starship requiring repairs that is also showing increasing structural instability? Could problems be permanently solved or would it simply be another band aid? Do you use the resources or place them elsewhere? What about the next time a problem occurred? Was it worth putting the ship through several months of upgrades? In most cases the answer had traditionally been yes. That was then, but this is now. Now, there would be no reset of clock this time. Now, there would be no overhaul. Instead, repairs would be completed on critical systems. By the time the Reaent would leave port, while she would look scarred and battered, the ship would be in relatively solid working order. Well, at least half of it anyway…but at least the holodecks and the bay doors would be working. But this would be her final journey. Officially, and now public, NCC-3345-G had been ordered to report to Starbase 709. Once there, approximately half of her assigned compliment would disembark for new postings. Some were leaving even before they left. Being repurposed for others in need, offload of material and ordnance was scheduled to occur at the same time. With the base being the hub for operations near the Romulan Neutral Zone, it wouldn’t take long for the supplies to find a good home. The ship would then depart for a rendezvous with the USS Churchill, an Akira Class vessel. There, the remains of the fighter squadron would depart to be integrated into a new home. Finally, the Reaent would return to the Sol system and Utopia Planetia Fleet Yards. Here, tentatively scheduled to occur in three weeks, a ceremony would mark the end of her journey and inactivation from the fleet. Patrick McQueen himself would also be moving into a new place…retirement. There simply wasn’t the drive or energy to try it all again. While his career had spanned decades, this had been his home. This was the family he had grown attached to, through good times and bad. There had been great sacrifices, great pain…but great joy and celebration. He wouldn’t trade any of it but also knew it was time to let focus on new endeavors. McQueen was tired and those who knew him had seen it only getting worse. Now, it was time to finally rest. Their journey was soon coming to a close. Yet before that could happen, there was a lot to do and not much time to do it.
  14. So...it appeared a little quiet around here. What are folks looking to do during the holidays? Anyone having plans for interesting trips or experiences next year? Discuss.... :)
  15. 10 years, 1 month, 2 days, 19 hours, 15 minutes - Stardate 1304.04 Nearly 3,700 days had passed. 121 months. In the giant scheme of the universe, not even the blink of an eye. Yet for a person, significant. For someone still missing the comfort of a loved one, torture. For far too many, a wound that simply would not heal. As listed in official and classified reports, an Intrepid Class starship departure Starbase 345 bound for the planet New Rigel. Their mission was to deliver several replacement antimatter storage pods during a routine supply mission. Empty during transport, they contained a non combustible chemical compound to ensure secure transport. A ship being used routinely for supply runs to distant Federation outposts, the mission itself was slated to last no more than two weeks. Official records still listed the names of those aboard. Captain S’erio, a veteran Caitian officer who had requested a transition to routine following the end of the Dominion War. Commander Jonston, an Andorian Commander, served as the ship’s Executive Officer. At the time of departure, a Alpha Centurion named Terio was assigned Operations duties, something quite familiar to the Lieutenant Junior Grade. Navigation was reportedly being operated by Ensign Gusman, one of the newer additions to a crew that had been relatively stable since being commissioned near the start of the Dominion War. In most cases. Prior to departure from Starbase 345, the Chief Engineer of the Intrepid Class starship had been diagnosed with Quilick Syndrome, the first reported in the sector in over fifteen years. It was attributed to the slow but steady increase in commercial traffic to the region as economies transitioned back to a peacetime configuration. First Lieutenant Facon would eventually be released following a week of treatment on the base. Yet given delays and the short nature of the mission, this illness failed to have any major impact on scheduled operations. The Intrepid Class ship was scheduled to depart at 23:00 hours local that day, following a departure of the U.S.S. Akagi at 22:00 and the U.S.S. Reaent at 23:30. To fill the void, the only available body had been a Lieutenant Richard Drew. On shore leave during the revelation of Facon’s illness, the Lieutenant’s normal posting included the Williamsburg Center. Then, as it remains today, the a prestigious posting for someone in engineering, it was one of two think-tank operations within Starfleet determining starship refit cycles, decommission schedules, potential upgrades and more. And yet the public record of the day would end with a notation of a detected explosion at 23:05 hours near the edge of Starbase 345’s sensor grid. Publically, the ship had suffered from some type of mechanical failure leading to a loss of all hands. But like many things, then there was the rest of the story. The story of how after reportedly detecting a leak from a non-combustible container, the ship had beamed it off for later recovery. The story of how upon entering warp, a series of mystifying acts had in seconds vaporized almost every interior space of the ship. How the New Rigel colony had reported the Starfleet transponder and the ship arriving several hours later, then themselves to never be heard from again. The story of how DNA records confirmed that Lieutenant Richard Drew who boarded the doomed vessel was not in fact Richard Drew. The story of how records had someone been adjusted, how evidence would surface showing the ill Chief Engineer had purposefully been infected with the rare Quilick Syndrome. The story of how the U.S.S. Exeter and U.S.S. Drake had also nearly met similar fates, with impersonated officers, to be saved by happenstance. Again, records and confidential information changed without a trace. The story of a mysterious signal sent during the encounter to a mysterious figure on Alpha Centuri. When completed, only two leads remained. What had happened to the real Richard Drew and did anyone know the whereabouts of a Muy Xiera? As Fleet Admiral Salvar had stated at the time, “Since all those involved in the situation have conveniently either perished or killed themselves…” And so time had marched on. Life had moved on, for some anyway. Yet the memory of the horror, the memory of the devastation, would always remain. It was accepted that resolution into the tragedy would likely never come, a clarity so sought would simply never been realized. Until five hours ago when a part-time customs agent, who bored one night shift had actually read how to utilize the software at his spaceport terminal, made a shocking discovery. It would prompt an alert that was immediately sent to the head of Starfleet Command. It would prompt an alert that was immediately sent to the head of Starfleet Intelligence. A man had landed on Risa. He held credentials claiming he was departing the planet to join up with his next assignment. A man who’s documents said he was heading to the U.S.S. Cairo, NCC-42136-A. A man…named Richard Drew.