Thursday, April 29, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241004.29 - Back Log - "Anywhere But Here" - CWO3 Sierra

[USS Guardian, Guest Quarters]
Oberic had been crammed into the tiny quarters now for what seemed to be an eternity.  His transfer to the Charon had excited him at first, but now he was just anxious to be anywhere else other than this one infernal room.  Being an Intelligence Officer meant that few people trusted you, especially commanding officers of ships you weren't assigned to.  They always seemed to think that you were there to snoop around.  So Oberic found himself pretty much stuck in his temporary quarters; one could read the same book only so many times before going batty.
After letting out a lengthy sigh, he placed his book on the table in front of him, and rose to his feet.  Another personal log entry...and more of nothing to really report about.  He pressed the panel and waited for the activation beep to sound.  "CWO3 Sierra, Personal Log, hell with it - this is day ad nauseum of my exile aboard the Guardian.  We should rendezvous with the Charon sometime over the next day - maybe less.  If there's any sort of delay to this, I swear I am going to flush myself out an airlock.  For the ninth time since arriving here, I have concluded reading "The Path of Korini Dercou".  I am forced to wonder if there are any Vulcans today who adhere to this discipline.  I would love to meet someone who can actually cause people to not notice them.  Would be nice in this line of work, that's for sure..."
A short nine hours later, Oberic's sleep was interrupted by the chime of the door, announcing a visitor.  That was very odd, nobody had visited him since he got to the Guardian.  Probably some poor, lost soul looking for someone else.  He approached the door, and allowed it to open.  A young and obviously squeamish ensign stood before him.  The young man cleared his throat a few times before speaking.  "I was told to...well, you should know that we will meet the Charon in a few hours."  That was all he said before making an about-face and nearly sprinting away.  Oberic ignored the response as he was overwhelmed with joy at soon being rid of this place.  He hurried back into the room and gathered up his things.  He would sit there, ready to depart, until called on.
[USS Charon - Transporter Room]
Upon materializing, Oberic glanced around, trying to see if anyone of significant rank was nearby whom he could report to.  Seeing only the transporter operator, the El-Aurian grinned and asked, "Could you please tell me where my quarters are located?"  After being told, he headed off, he figured he could report in after putting his things away.  Besides, nobody had been there to welcome him aboard or meet him.  He assumed everyone was busy, and he would only be in the way should he go hunting for someone to report to.  No doubt they knew he was there, anyway.
[Personal Quarters]
Compared to the room he was crammed into on the Guardian, Oberic's new digs were luxurious.  He was quite pleased with the change, and looked forward to seeing what his office would look like.  He knew that aboard a ship like the Charon, his job was relegated to a mere support role; he wouldn't be getting a department or personnel to really speak of.  And that was more than fine with him - the fewer people involved, the lower the chances of failure and disappointment.
With his equipment tucked away, Oberic straightened out his uniform, and stepped into the corridor, ready to face whatever the Charon and her Captain had to offer him.  First order of business...locate the XO and officially report in.
CWO3 Oberic Sierra
Intelligence Officer
USS Charon
((OOC:  Hello all!  My name is Rob, and I am obviously playing the new Intel Officer.  I just wanted to say that it's great to be here!  I look forward to writing with you all in the future.  I am happy to be part of such a prolific crew.))

[USS Charon] [USS Corsair] - SD241004.28 || "Progeny of the Progenitors - Part XX"

U.S.S. Corsair - NX-011979
Nebula II Prototype
 “Sic Parvis Magna”
(Greatness From Small Beginnings)

“Progeny of the Progenitors – Part 20”

## Conference Room – USS Corsair ##


“As you can see on the screen the perimeter of the camp is well defended by men and machines but we’ve analyzed the readings we were able to obtain and have found a possible weakness.”


Ramius held a cup of hot coffee while he outlined his plan to infiltrate the mysterious cloaked base with the Charon’s senior staff.


“An orbital assault at this point is too blunt an option.  The Romulans would no doubt be alerted and I want to keep them out of affairs for as long as possible.  Colonel Northrup, I will need a small team of marines to land here and create a diversion.  You must appear to be a small force attempting to breach the perimeter however you must be unsuccessful.  As you can see in the images here these cargo containers appear to mark the range of the automatic turrets which will be the primary threat.  A small team will hit the compound with a combination or small arms fire and photon grenades.  I suggest a combination of photon and flash grenades.  The light and heat produced by the explosions should confuse the turret computers and keep them occupied.  Additionally the confusion created should allow a small team time to penetrate the defenses and gain access to the main facility.”


“Captain Ramius, I would like permission to lead the infiltration team”, the colonel asked.


“Negative colonel.  I need you to coordinate the diversions.  Twenty minutes after the first attack I want a second attack to be launched.  This should keep the surface forces occupied and hopefully prevent them from suspecting the initial attack was a simple diversionary measure.  Our goal is to sneak past security and avoid a hard contact.  I want them to believe a small force is attempting to probe the defenses looking for weaknesses.  This should buy enough time for a team to get in, gather intelligence, and escape.”


“Who is leading the infiltration team”, Doctor Durandal asked from his seat at the table.


“The team will consist of myself and Captain Akina.”


“Captain I must protest”, Colonel Northrup quickly responded.  “I cannot permit you to enter a hostile and dangerous environment without a military escort.”


“I concur”, Commander Novada added.  “With all due respect to you and Mr. Akina’s abilities, you cannot do this.”


“Captain, I can have a small team of marines infiltrate the compound and complete any mission objectives you prescribe.  There is no need to endanger the Corsair’s commanding officer in such a risky venture.”


Ramius shook his head.  “Your objections are appreciated and noted.  I called this meeting to listen to ideas.  If you feel I am being unreasonable then make your protests official if you feel you must, however Akina and I will be going in.  Colonel, this situation requires Mr. Akina’s intelligence gathering talents.  Consequently we are dealing with too many unknowns.  There could be civilians that need to be rescued or some other information or event may require split second decision making.  If we lose communications I cannot place the burden of command upon anyone but myself.  The risks are too great and we have yet to determine the actual stakes in play.


However, I can see that neither you nor Commander Novada have any intention of letting the two of us off this ship alone so I will offer you both a proposal.  Colonel, I need three volunteers for this mission.  This is not an order given the danger.  These three volunteers will accompany Akina and I as we infiltrate the compound.  Does that satisfy both of your concerns?”


Northrup glanced at first officer Novada who was clearly unhappy with the situation however was unprepared to further debate the captain once he had made up his mind, however stubborn he could sometimes be.


“It would help allay our anxiety as well as increase your odds of success during this mission.”


“Three volunteers.  Have them ready in two hours in transporter room two.  Unless there is anything further everyone is dismissed.”


The senior staff quietly left the conference room except for one officer who remained seated.


“Commander, is there something on your mind”, Ramius asked deactivating the large screen behind him.


“Yes sir.  Permission to speak freely sir?”




“Sir, I have the highest respect for you, but I must protest your actions.  You cannot expose yourself on missions such as this.  These constant actions of yours are not only against standing operational guidelines, but endanger this ship’s commander.  What if you are captured or killed?  How would I explain that to the Romulans who you are keeping in the dark?  What if these criminals decided to bargain with your life in exchange for their freedom?  What if they attempted to forcibly extract sensitive intelligence information from you and Captain Akina?  Your clearance levels alone make you a high value target.  I’m sure our Romulan confederates would enjoy asking you a few questions if circumstances were different.”


“And your point is Commander”, Ramius replied flatly.


“I think your actions are reckless and unwise sir.  Send the marines in for this sort of work.  They are highly trained for this sort of action and are more than capable of completing nearly any mission objective.  There isn’t much that you can do down there sir that the marines are not also capable of achieving.”


“The marines cannot make decisions based upon what they may find down there Commander.  The wrong decision given the circumstances could be hazardous especially with the Romulans involved.  This isn’t just a military op, it is political as well.  Whoever has setup shop down there has expended massive amounts of time and resources.  They have access to highly sophisticated technology which makes it vital we ascertain who it is funding this base and for what purpose.  Captain Akina was nearly killed by these people and has a vested interest in shutting them down as do I.  Both of us need to understand what is going on down there.  I am sorry if intelligence missions are difficult for you to handle, but the Corsair is no normal ship.  We get the missions no one else is willing or able to take.  Yes the risks are high, but so are the rewards.”


“This has nothing to do about intelligence or mission objectives sir and you know it”, Novada replied her voice heavy with emotion.  “You’re going down there because you want to go down there.  You crave danger and thrive on the unknown.  Let’s not mince words Captain.  You are going simply because you want to go and as the captain have the authority to do so even if such actions go against every rule in the book.  What about your friends and colleagues?  What about this ship’s crew who deserves their captain to adhere to the rules and who deserve a captain.  You are no longer a fighter pilot Ramius!  You are the captain of a starship with responsibilities, duties, and obligations.  You cannot forsake those whenever you feel the need to have some fun.  It is selfish especially to those of us who…”


Ramius was taken aback by the commander’s sudden onslaught.  Under normal circumstances he might be furious at her words which were bordering on insubordination and conduct unbecoming of an officer.  However those words were delivered by a woman he knew to have a noble heart and fierce, pure convictions.  She always spoke her mind whatever the consequences and it were those qualities which set her apart from nearly everyone he had ever served with.


Her last words however struck Ramius with the speed and force of an unseen assassin.  He wasn’t sure what to make of them until he looked at the Commander.  The expression on her face and the look in her eyes validated his suspicions.




“Permission to return to duty”, she quickly said interrupting the captain her voice turning cold as she struggled with unwanted emotions.


 “Dismissed”, Ramius replied.  He watched her quickly turn and leave.


Turning to the conference room windows, Ramius looked down onto the planet below.  Had he really seen what he thought he had?  Right now it didn’t matter.  The commander’s earlier words were far more poignant.  Was he being selfish?  Was he really using his position to satisfy his thirst for action and adventure the likes of which had been forcibly taken from him when Starfleet had thrown him into command of a starship during the second half of the Second Dominion War?


He had a job to do and was doing it!  So he was somewhat unconventional in his what?  He always managed to get the job done when no one else would or when other just couldn’t.  He was Starfleet’s go-to person for the dirty jobs that were vitally important but had to be keep off the radar.  How dare she accuse him of being selfish!  He was responsible for doing the impossible and Starfleet had an expectation of such performance.  It was his responsibility and his alone to ensure their missions were a success and if that meant direct supervision and participation who was she to question his decisions?”


Ramius pressed a hand against the cool glass of the window as his anger peaked and quickly subsided.  He couldn’t stay angry at her.  There were too many times their missions had called for him to keep her in the dark despite his better judgment and yet time and time again she had been loyal never questioning the captain’s orders no matter how odd or unusual they may seem.

Much to Ramius’s dismay there was a tiny fragment stuck in the far corner of his mind which irritated him like a splinter of glass that couldn’t be seen.  It was the possibility that Novada was right.  Perhaps he was taking too many risks?  There was no denying he enjoyed hands on, field work.


There was her concern as well.  Her eyes seemed to convey something more.  Something Ramius was unsure he wanted to understand if indeed he had seen the truth.  That look in her eyes…it frightened him more than the Romulans outside or the danger below on the planet’s surface.  More frightening still was the fact he felt the same though had kept such things hidden behind his tough exterior and ever present uniform.


His mind wandered upon these thoughts and many others as he stared out the window.  Damn he missed his days as a pilot in the war.  Things seemed so much easier then.  He knew his enemies and friends alike.  Now he had to play the roles of a diplomat, officer, leader, politician, tactician, and sometimes even a father.  His enemies now hid in the shadows taking many forms and were seemingly everywhere and nowhere.  It was becoming harder to simply charge in, fight, win, and return home to a hero’s welcome.  Gone was the black and white which brought him comfort replaced now with an ambiguous gray.  Such matters left him with little time for friends.  Love…well he had no time or place for such things.  At least that’s what he told himself.  Fear of going soft drove such feelings from him yet as hard as he tried he could not escape certain human truths no matter how hard he ran, fled, or attempted to ignore them.  Deep down he was just as human as the next man despite his unique qualities.


He didn’t have time for this.  He had a mission to complete and had to focus solely on its success or else risk total failure.  There wasn’t time for doubt, regret, or fear.  Perhaps when this was over he could contemplate such matters.  For now he simply could not afford that luxury.


[ To Be Continued… ]



Captain Taverain Ramius

Commanding Officer, USS Corsair


Colonel Johnathan Northrup

Marine Commander


Commander Alanis Novada

Executive Officer


Commander Keith Durandal

Chief Medical Officer


Wednesday, April 28, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241004.28 - Memento Vivere - "The cold wind comes..."

[IRW D'era (Endless Sky)]

Desert landscape, jagged rocks, and a bright burning sun made up the dusty brown globe rotating at the center of the room.  Itsak's eyes glimmered as he stared at the planet.  He reached out and slid his fingers through the holographic projection causing it to fizzle at his touch.  "Thhaei" He murmured the Rihannsu name of this harsh place- a hot and desolate place inhabited by a heartless people.  He closed his eyes and remembered vividly.

"Why are you leaving?  What about Itsak?!"  He could still remember his mother, on her knees, begging and pleading.  "I have given up everything to be with you Somok!  My honor, my status, my family!  How can you just leave?  Do you feel nothing?!"

His father just stared at her- a cold emotionless veneer.  "I have come to the conclusion that our relationship is not tenable.  It is for the best that I leave."  He turned away- she grabbed his shirt and he jerked away pushing her off.  Without even looking at them he left…simply left.

"Are you certain?"

Itsak shivered slightly as he twisted around to look at Hanaj who was standing directly behind him.   Hanaj's thin frame slowly strolled across the room and right through the projection.  It twisted awkwardly to accommodate his passing form before returning to its spherical shape.  "Is this truly what you want Itsak?  I have known you since the war college- I knew you held hate in your heart for your father, but, do you truly wish to eradicate an entire race?"   

"I want to bring them sadness.  Terrible, terrible, sadness." 

"Then we have a problem."  Hanaj said "apparently the Vulcans were able to cause more damage then we initially believed.  The primary control console for the wormhole system has been severely damaged.  Our engineers say it will take time to repair it."

"What?"  Itsak gritted his teeth in rage, after a moment to process what Hanaj had said he continued "how long did they say it would take them?"

"A month at the earliest- but that is unlikely.  They believe it will take them at least two months to rebuild the panel but without the Vulcan engineers it will be impossible to know for sure if they will be able to fully render the panel operable again."  Hanaj spoke his next sentence cautiously "we should not have allowed those Vulcans to leave on Charon.  There is also a second problem…"  He barely finished his sentence when the door burst open again.

"Why are we still on course for I'Rak Prime?"  The Political Officer stormed in, her obsidian uniform obscuring most of her form in the darkness, but the dusty brown light from the projection illuminated her irritated expression.  Her eyes immediately focused on the diagram rotating at the center of the room "Vulcan?"  She uttered curiously but her attention quickly turned to Itsak "you have been given the coordinates to where the Vulcan ship should be delivered.  Why have we yet to alter our course?"

"The second problem."  Hanaj said.

"Second problem?"  She asked glaring at Itsak.

"Indeed."  Itsak turned to her and bowed his head "forgive me- it seems we have a problem.  I don't intend to give the agency this weapon."  He turned to the projection and pointed at the dusty planet "I am going to kill every being on that planet."  Itsak smirked "you of all people should understand the benefits of this.  Be rid of them once and for all- and without them Federation will be crippled beyond repair.  With the Klingon's still in economic disrepair we can become the dominant power in the Galaxy."

"I understand now.  This is why you kept a sample of the Memento Mori?"  She scoffed and shook her head "I cannot allow you to waste such technology over a trivial pursuit.  Change course immediately."

Itsak's eye's narrowed as his brows creased.  Without warning he unsheathed his honor blade and impaled the Political Officer through her abdomen.  Her eyes grew and quivered as she stumbled backwards pushing the Vaek'Riov away from her.  He pulled the blade out and readied for a finishing blow but she pressed her thumb to her neck and dematerialized.  Hanaj was soon at his side cursing "we won't have much time now."

"Disable all communication relays in this entire region and tell the other commanders to rid of their political officers."  Itsak glowered at his second "we do not have time to waste.  We need the Charon."

"Shall I have us change course?" Hanaj asked.

"No- I will take another ship.  We cannot waste time.  D'era must get the Temep'Shar to I'Rak prime as soon as possible.  We must offload the technology and have our scientists prep the new samples of the Memento Mori.  We will soon need it."

Hanaj nodded, bowed his head slightly, and then looked up curiously "what if Shiarrael refuses?"

"I will kill her precious crew."

[USS Charon]   

Shiarrael felt a cold intense pain shoot through the base of her neck.  Rubbing it gently she looked out her ready room window at the passing star field.  It has been a long year- but it is almost over, she thought absently and went back to her work.


Tuesday, April 27, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241004.27|| Joint BackLog "Vulcan on Ice" Part II || Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax, Brevet 1st Lt Brent Warren

=/\= USS Charon, Shuttle bay =/\=


She couldn't help it. Even Vulcans cannot always resist temptation, not when it is this marvelously sweet. Barely a split second after flight ops had cleared them for launch, the fighter shot forward and raced through the forcefield in a shower of rainbow sparks, impulse engines howling with delight.

Another split second later every atom in her body vibrated as they passed through Charon's warp field and the awesome power of their own warp engines hummed to life, hurtling them away in a spiral that would have sufficiently confused any potential attacker trying to pick off fighters when they were most vulnerable.


"Unpleasant and 'not an easy ride' being euphemisms, yes? In any case, I will try to not make this an unpleasant experience, so if my flying causes you discomfort, please do not hesitate to point it out."

As if to underline her words, Sakarra throttled back and the Valkyrie described a perfect, slow arc while in the canopy stars glittered and turned around them and Charon became visible as a tiny speck of silver traveling high above.  


Brent grinned at her response.  "Have you ever known me to be really boring or do things in uninteresting ways," he said to her as he dialed he camera controls in and began to look around.  A few ideas wandered into his head of things that he had done that she had characterized as 'interesting' but he figured that she could understand the innuendo that he was trying to imply, and began to dial in the camera's controls and figuring out how to focus it.

It turned out that Brent had gotten the hang of it just in time, as Sakarra took off out of the ship Brent managed to capture the surprise look of one of the deck officers.  "Hey now, I make a decent photographer," Brent said as he fumbled around with the controls on his RIO station until he finally was able to send the picture of the perturbed woman up to Sakarra.  "Maybe I should get a camera..."

Brent heard her ask about the euphemisms and how she would try not to make him lose his lunch.  "They are euphemisms yes; they were lessons in abject terror and horror, especially the hard drop.  I should be fine for most of this flight though, I have an expert pilot here to give me the tour."


The picture was certainly … unique. The moment it showed up on the small auxiliary screen at her side, Sakarra felt both brows climb by a considerable margin and she had to silently agree – Brent seemed to have another hidden talent.

"To be honest, I have not. Quite the contrary, in fact." The Valkyrie lazily banked to starboard and ever so slowly began to overtake Charon still cruising above while the young woman in the pilot seat did her best not to think of the exquisitely interesting things her companion had surprised her with recently.

"I shall endeavor to keep the abject terror to a minimum, although I have been told repeatedly that what a pilot may consider a rather pleasant little spin can produce said horror in unprepared passengers."

Propelled into the vast emptiness of space by her cheerfully pulsing warp engines, the little fighter was about to overtake the shimmering blue and white speck under her wing the very moment it came into view, but Sakarra had timed their approach precisely and dropped out of warp in a flash of light before falling into a perfect roll. Right above the canopy, the comet's tail loomed, harsh and cold, illuminated only by distant stars and chunks of ice sizzled on their shields.

"Beautiful, no?"


"Good. I'd hate to think that I've been boring all of this time," he said keeping the 'sweetheart' that was on the tip of his tongue to himself.  Brent watched as the stars flew by in streaks of light.  He smiled, thinking that he was fairly certain that he would never see something like this ever again.  Unless of course Sakarra took him out.  He was interrupted when she mentioned keeping the terror to a minimum. "Thank you then. I'm loving this so far, it's amazing."

As if to punctuate his words it was then that Sakarra dove down against the comet as Brent let out a slow breath at the beauty outside of the cockpit.  "That's magnificent," he managed in a soft voice.  He forgot about his camera for a few moments before Brent began to take several snapshots of the comet as it passed on by.


Deeply gratified by not only the tone of his voice but the obvious enjoyment Brent was deriving from this little flight, the young Vulcan nearly did not see the brief flicker on her console.


To her knowledge, Charon's sensors had not detected any silithium, but for just a moment it had shown up on hers. Unfortunately, a fighter was not equipped for scientific research, but if she could get close enough ..

"Are you still interested in the 'blowing up' part of our excursion? I should point out however that the 'ride' could get slightly bumpy."

A gloved hand pointed towards a large chunk of ice trailing in the comet's wake while the Valkyrie's nose tilted downward "I would like to get a closer look at this part of the comet but we will need to clear a path."


Brent was busy taking several pictures but he immediately heard Sakarra talking about blowing something up.  "Hmm explosions huh?  You know that's something that we Marines pride ourselves on you know," he said in a very serious tone of voice. Brent began to fiddle around with the controls again before finally discovering the weapon systems on the fighter. He took control of the phaser turrets and moved them back and forth a few times before he let out a burst of energy from them and grinned like a child in a candy store. "Yeah I think I could get the handle of this," he said idly as Brent moved in and zeroed in on the comet.


Focusing on her target, Sakarra nodded and still had to resist the urge to comment on the most seriously presented 'pride and explosions' statement. Unseen by the Marine who was cheerfully familiarizing himself with the Valkyrie's impressive weapons array, the young Vulcan smiled.

"Tally Ho."

Her targeting system beeped excitedly and Sakarra swerved to avoid another block of ice tumbling towards them – as far away as the blue giant behind them was, its gravity well was enough to pull away considerable pieces of accumulated dust and frozen water.

"A two second burst should suffice, unless you wish to make matters very interesting indeed."


Just as Brent had figured out the weapon systems well enough he heard Sakarra speak again that they were incoming to the target and that a two second burst would suffice.  Brent thought that was far too little and made a face like a disappointed child would upon hearing that. "Yeah...  Two seconds doesn't sound like very much fun to me," Brent said as he found something that looked like it needed to blow up and proceeded to shoot at it for a period of time.


"The sentence 'I should have expected that' appears to become a recurring theme in this relationship."

In a mad dash, the fighter dove under splinters and massive chunks of metallic ore that had been hurtled out of their paths by debris and weapons fire. Ice and rock vaporized in a kaleidoscope of colors as twinkling running lights reflected off the ice, mingled with the far sun's blue tinted light and the phaser beams lancing out against tumbling obstacles.

"Two o'clock, inbound."

She had barely finished when the massive boulder was blown – literally – to pieces, a good portion of which were of course still aiming straight for them. Undeterred, Brent picked out the biggest chunks one by one, apparently having what humans referred to as 'a blast'.


But even though this had turned from a leisurely cruise to a wild combination of swerving and dodging, Sakarra had to admit she was … having fun. Lots of it.

And they were getting so close to the comet itself, the silithium readings showed up bright and clear.

"One might almost assume you have done this before." Another brow was quirked, unseen but somehow heard in the young Vulcan's voice when a piece of ice measuring easily 500 meters across was vaporized right before the Valkyrie's nose.

Just a heartbeat later, the fighter was skimming over the rugged surface of the comet itself, having left the tail behind and unfortunately, the readings as well. Before them, something that would have qualified as a minor mountain range on a planet, came racing towards them and Sakarra pulled the craft into a steep climb. Spiraling away, she could almost physically sense Brent's disappointment that he had run out of targets.


Brent was simply having too much fun.  This was great, and he enjoyed letting the turret fire to almost the point of overheating the phase coils before he stopped for a few moments, only to start firing again as he noticed the fighter turning away.  He didn't even bother commenting at her about if he had done this before. Brent was too busy having fun and laughing like a kid at his fun. It was only predictable as Sakarra turned the fighter away he had to make a comment.  "Hey!  I was still trying to blow it up..." he said the pout almost audible in his voice as he strove to get a lock on the comet again, the phaser trails still going off fruitlessly for almost a minute after till he gave up.



=/\= To be continued … =/\=


Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander


Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax

Chief Helm


USS Charon


[USS Charon] SD241004.27|| Joint BackLog "Vulcan on Ice" Part I || Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax, Brevet 1st Lt Brent Warren

<<Yet another one taking place en route to the Stellar Nursery>>


=/\= USS Charon, Deck Nine, Shuttle and Fighter storage =/\=


The Valkyrie sat on the elevator, gleaming silver and giving off an air of quiet menace with her downturned wings and sharp, sleek lines. Unfortunately the effect was ruined just slightly by the fact that one of the engine maintenance hatches was open and the lower half of a rather small built person in a flight suit was sticking out of it while feet clad in heavy boots were scrambling on the deck. 

Under the bewildered looks of several maintenance personnel, the little pilot finally seemed to have reached whatever it was she had been looking for and stood on the tips of her toes while a patient, copper haired woman nodded and handed a phase compensator into the hatch.


A pilot circling a fighter, running her fingers over the hull and talking as if to a lover – that they were used to, more or less. It had barely elicited comment, even when people realized it was a Vulcan doing it. But same pilot jumping head first into a maintenance hatch to tinker and play, that was not an everyday sight.

"What is she doin'?"

"Dunno. Ask Hadley."

"You'd think we don't know how to do maintenance on those birds."

"Bah. Pilots. Let her play. Or you wanna argue with the Helms-Vulcan?"

"Yeah. About as much as I want a migraine. Hey, you got the diagnostic results of the Fortis?"

"Nope but I got some coffee."

"That'll do, too."


"Miss Hadley, I believe I mentioned…"

"Right. No ma'am-ing. Commander. Anyways. What's this going to do?"

Rebecca tried to peek into the hatch but all she could see was a tight flight suit outlining a very nice hourglass shape and the dim light of an open power conduit.

"I am merely familiarizing myself with the craft, Lieutenant. If incidentally I can fine-tune the power output ratio of the warp engines, you may consider it part of my pre-flight routine. Ah, interesting."


"May I assume you were responsible for those upgrades?"

"What? Oh, yes."

"My compliments."

The dark haired Vulcan emerged from the hatch and handed the tools back to Rebecca who promptly put them away.


"You are welcome."


The hatch was closed and sealed and the beaming human was about to waltz back to her office when she nearly dropped her toolkit on her foot. In the blink of an eye, something you could damn near call a smile had shown up and disappeared on the Vulcan's face. She followed the gaze of black eyes and saw the Marine Commander himself stroll into her little corner of Charon – and of course Vara was nowhere in sight. The poor Trill would be fretting for days. She'd already been fretting when Robert had officially declared that Vara's crush had succeeded where Merl had failed – though the betting pool on the exact nature of that success was still gaining steam.

Giving a polite wave, Rebecca scampered off and resolved to keep an eye on the two from a safe distance – both for Vara and the possibility to gain an advantage in said pool.


Fighters.  Brent had a almost love hate relationship with them. He was dating a fighter pilot now; Sakarra had made that much clear when they had first started dating. He looked around at the fighter bay only to find Sakarra with her sleeves rolled up apparently having been working the fighter craft.  He didn't know that she knew how to repair the craft or make adjustments.  He supposed that would be something that most fighter pilots would pick up in their spare time, provided they had the spare time. Brent watched as the other woman disappeared from the fighter and to the far side of the bay. So they would have an audience then. So be it, Brent was fairly certain that every single one of his men knew that he had a relationship with Sakarra, it only figured that soon enough all of Sakarra's department would know as well.

"I don't believe I've ever seen you with your sleeves rolled up like that," he said with a smile on his face as he offered her two fingers as she had done to him so many times before.



It took Sakarra a half-second to realize he was speaking literally but rather than adjust her flight suit immediately, she returned the gesture, fully aware that they were being … watched.

She could have stopped at the usual light touch, the tender greeting that was no more than the briefest brushing of lips against the other's cheek. But something about his smile and the fact that he seemed intent on showing affection in the crowded hangar sparked a tiny flame of mischief and she let her fingertips graze across his cool skin for just a moment. The effect was as immediate as it was satisfactory when deep blue eyes widened just a fraction and the sensation of a not entirely innocent kiss echoed through the mindlink and dispersed.


"Yes, it does seem to be an unusual sight, judging from the reactions of the deck crew."

The perfect image of Vulcan equanimity, Sakarra smoothed out the sleeves and motioned to the flight suit and helmet placed neatly on the Valkyrie's nose. "I had to approximate your measurements, but seeing as I am in the fortunate position to … know your physique," the words were spoken low enough to be heard only by Brent, but the tone was impeccably calm nonetheless "it should fit quite well. If you can be persuaded to act as my RIO for this flight of course."


Brent looked at the fighter suit for a moment and sized it up a little bit. It looked like it would fit just fine actually. Apparently she had quite an intimate knowledge of his physique. "Well I think I can be persuaded. So long as all the RIO has to do is look around and maybe press a few buttons hoping that nothing blows up in the process," Brent said as he picked up the flight suit and slowly began to pull the suit up and over his uniform.  "Where will we be flying at hm? Just around the ship a few times to make sure the bird can still fly properly?"


"I should discourage you from pressing any buttons that will cause things to 'blow up' as it were."

Though the prospect of actually doing a target run was … alluring in its own way. Sakarra quirked an amused brow at the Marine and swiftly climbed up the ladder before settling in the pilot's seat with a most satisfied air about her.

"As for where we will be going – I seem to have neglected to file more than a most rudimentary flight plan. Though there is a most intriguing comet nearby which currently has the science department pushing the sensors to maximum resolution. I assume they would appreciate some close up scans, even if they come from the comparably inadequate array of a fighter."


With an ease that came from long practice, the young Vulcan went through her preflight and listened for Brent literally fold his tall frame into the RIO's seat. A brief nod to the ground crew and she secured her helmet while the canopy closed and the elevator slowly lifted the Valkyrie up into the shuttle bay.

"I am aware you had some rough shuttle flights in the past." Now that their conversation was limited to the comm between them, the young Vulcan allowed for the silent humor to echo in her voice at last "Not the least of which was partially my doing. But have you ever been 'riding shotgun', to borrow the phrase, in a fighter?"


"What about shoot things that go boom? Is it ok if I press those buttons," Brent said as he borrowed a phrase from basic training when addressing recruits. 'Things that go boom' were things that recruits should not play with unless directed to by a DI. "A comet huh. Sounds good to me. Is there a camera on this bird? Maybe I can take some pictures and make noises like I'm blowing things up," he said eagerly as Brent managed to fold himself into the cockpit.

"No drop ever made on Dominon held land was ever an easy ride down," Brent replied across the static of the communications line. "But to answer your question no I have never been riding in a fighter.  Just the back ends of shuttles and drop ships. Even did a hard drop once, now that was unpleasant let me tell you."


"To borrow yet another phrase from she who was my squadron leader – only if they go boom in interesting ways." Inside her helmet, Sakarra tried her very best not to chuckle but her focus shifted quickly when the elevator stopped and the ground crew scattered to clear the way.

It never ceased to be an exhilarating sensation when engines sprang to life, humming with restrained power, ready to fly loose. In perfect unison with her craft, the Vulcan tensed ever so slightly with joyous anticipation and as always, her breath and heartbeat seemed to echo loudly in the sound of the engines.

Gently as an autumn leaf picked up by the breeze, the Valkyrie rose off the deck and lazily turned towards the slowly unfurling shuttle bay doors.

"And yes, there is in fact. The controls are situated to your right."



=/\= To be continued … =/\=


Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander


Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax

Chief Helm


USS Charon



[USS Charon] [USS Corsair] - SD241004.26 || "Progeny of the Progenitors - Part XIX"

U.S.S. Corsair - NX-011979
Nebula II Prototype
 “Sic Parvis Magna”
(Greatness From Small Beginnings)

“Progeny of the Progenitors – Part 19”

## Planet:  D’aisnenn – Romulan Space ##

Ramius made his way forward until suddenly the marines before him vanished.  Akina disappeared next as his senses indicated his was alone in a vast white desert despite the knowledge the men were in reality only a few steps away.  Gripping his weapon, Ramius continued forward as the landscape rippled for an instant before him and was replaced by reality.


Ramius was instantly aware they were exposed and in the open.  That fact was not lost on the marines who unable to find cover had hit the ground and were engaged in slinking upon its surface toward a snowdrift for concealment.


Ramius and Akina quickly did the same and after some tense moments the men lay prone next to one another their outlines just barely hidden from view by a sizeable pile of snow and ice.


“Shit”, one of the marines muttered under his breath.  “This place is a fortress.  Did you see those defense turrents and lookouts?  Not to mention the spotlights.  You can forget recon Captain.  We aren’t going to be able to get anywhere near the center of the compound.”


“Never say never”, Ramius stated producing a pair of white binoculars.  Glassing the perimeter the marine’s quick assessment was not far from the mark.  Ramius could make out three guards on patrol, but worse he also spotted a well designed perimeter of automatic sentry guns.  It was highly likely these weapons were computer controlled and activated by movement and or heat.


“What do you see”, Akina whispered from his position.


“Three sentries on patrol.  Several automatic gun turrets.  There’s a large building.  Probably houses the cloaking systems and possibly power generators.  There’s some empty cargo containers scattered about to form a rough perimeter.  My guess is they mark the range of the automatic guns.”


Captain Akina ventured a quick glance before ducking back behind cover.  “Quite the welcoming committee.  Cloaking devices, mercenaries, AI controlled guns, power generators; not exactly the tools you would expect to encounter with your garden variety bad guys.  This isn’t a local pirate or smuggling operation.  This isn’t even syndicate or organized crime.  Whoever fronted the money for all this tech is extraordinarily well funded and by that token extremely dangerous.”


“Agreed.”  Ramius scanned the distance slowly again.  There was another structure well lit with a sentry guarding the entrance.


“Whatever is being protected here I think I just found it.”  Ramius ducked down and handed the binocs to Akina.  “200 meters southeast of the cloaking generator.  See it?”


“Yeah.  Barracks perhaps?”


“Possibly.  My guess is whatever they’re guarding is in there.”


“What of all those abductees?  That structure is too small to house all of them and I don’t see anything else large enough.  There’s no fences, no other living quarters that I can see.”


Ramius thought for a moment.  “They aren’t here”, he said after a time.


“What do you mean?  Where are they then?”


“Underground.  I’ll bet that building covers a shaft that leads down into the ice.  Perhaps there is a subterranean structure or some sort of cavern below.”


Akina dropped back onto his back.  “Makes sense.  There’s nothing topside of any value except ice and snow.  I still don’t see how we are supposed to get in there.”


“Sir”, one of the marines interrupted.  “Tricorder is picking up electronic countermeasures.  Looks like communications are being jammed in the area and I’ve detected a transporter scattering field.  Doesn’t look like we can rely upon the transporters to get us past their defenses at least not without some pattern enhancers which will take time to setup and calibrate.”


“They’ve obviously done their homework.  I can see these aren’t amateurs.  The sentries are a concern, but what bothers me the most are those automatic guns.  They get one whiff of anything and the party is over.  With all of this tech I bet they know we’re here.  They probably hope the cloaking shield will keep them safe and that we’ll eventually leave.”


Ramius nodded in agreement.  “We can use that to our advantage.  I suspect Akina is correct and that they are confident they won’t be detected.  We still have the element of surprise in that they probably are not expecting an attack.”


“Do you see that”, Akina whispered.  The marines shrugged unsure what the intelligence officer was indicating.  “It’s that look.  He’s plotting something.  Gonna get us all killed in the process”, Akina sneered.  “You are plotting aren’t you Ramius?”


“By plotting you mean formulating a plan then yes.”


“Why not hit them from orbit sir?  A few well placed shots from the Corsair’s phasers and we could eliminate all obstacles.  They’re defense relies upon not being detected.  The compound would be unable to repel an orbital attack and they do not appear to have facilities or equipment to shield the area.”


“I’ve considered that and it may be our only option, but there is something not right about all of this”, Ramius answered the marine.  “The placement of the guns, the sophistication of the equipment, and the careful planning involved to secure this area – it’s all too slick and too professional.  If I didn’t know better I’d say the Romulans or another government was involved here.”


“What are you suggesting Ramius”, Akina asked wiping the accumulated snow from his goggles as the wind howled around the men.


“I’m not sure.  It’s just a feeling.  I’m not convinced a full scale attack is our best option.  An orbital strike could damage any structures below in the ice if they exist and could force these people to take hostages to bargain for their escape.  I’m not willing to risk so many lives with heavy handed tactics just yet.”


Ramius took one last look at the perimeter before sinking below the snow bank.  “We still have a few options.  Surprise and secrecy are still our best weapons.  Sergeant, have the men fall out.  We’re returning to the Corsair.”


“You aren’t giving up are you Ramius”, Akina quipped.


“I don’t like to lose”, Ramius replied with a wry grin as he motioned for the team to move out.


[ To Be Continued… ]



Captain Taverain Ramius

Commanding Officer, USS Corsair


Captain Zane Akina

Intelligence Operative


NPC Marines

[USS Charon] USS Corsair - SD241004.26 || "Progeny of the Progenitors - Part XVIII"

U.S.S. Corsair - NX-011979
Nebula II Prototype
 “Sic Parvis Magna”
(Greatness From Small Beginnings)

“Progeny of the Progenitors – Part 18”

## USS Corsair - Transporter Room ##

Ramius carefully checked his phaser before sliding into one of the pockets of his heavy white camouflaged coat.  Covered from head to toe his team was outfitted with clothing and gear designed for the extreme cold.  “Is everyone ready”, Ramius asked as he pulled on a pair of white gloves and checked the small computer strapped to his forearm.


“Yes sir”, came the confident reply from the three marines who had volunteered to accompany the captain to scout the cloaked area and gather recon.  The forth member of the team seemed far less prepared.


Ramius turned and helped Captain Akina pull on and secure his heavy white parka and field pack.  The officer had only had a few days to rest and recover after being stabbed and beaten by several hired thugs.  Ramius had personally assured the ship’s doctor he would keep an eye on the captain who was still somewhat sluggish from his recent injuries and ordeal.  The captain was a tough intelligence operative and Ramius would not have allowed him to join if he didn’t believe Akina was up for the mission.  However he still felt obligated to annoy the captain when possible.


“You sure you’re up for this Zane”, Ramius asked snapping the officer’s pack into place and ensuring the pack straps were tight.


“Of course”, came Akina’s confident reply.  “I feel the need to obtain some payback and can endure the elements if it helps to put an end to this mysterious group and its sinister leadership.”


“That’s the spirit”, Ramius said giving his fellow officer a reassuring slap on the back.


“Alright everyone.  Gather round.”  Ramius activated his arm top computer which displayed a holographic image of the terrain in as high detail as the ship’s sensors could provide. The amber image flickered into existence allowing the captain to quickly go over the mission objectives. 


“ Our mission is as follows:  We will infiltrate the area and conduct recon within an area that is believed to be hidden by a cloaking shield.  Once we’ve penetrated the shield’s perimeter our goal will be to find a suitable safe zone and perform recon of the area.  Sergeant Wallace, you and your men will be responsible for obtaining detailed scans of the area.  Captain Akina and I will scout the perimeter and obtain visual recon on type and numbers of personnel, defenses, vehicles, equipment, and structures.  Keep communications to a minimum in the event comms are being monitored.


Once our initial recon is complete we will regroup and evaluate the gathered intelligence.


If your position is compromised during the mission your orders are to proceed to evacuate and return to the Corsair.  Do not engage any hostile forces unless absolutely required.  We aren’t here to fight just yet.  Our mission is simply to observe and collect intelligence.  Any questions?”


With no questions voiced Ramius deactivated the holographic image.  “Mount up.”


The men took their positions on the transporter pad checking weapons, adjusting their heavy winter packs and clothing, and affixing protective eyewear.  The last step was to attach a small breathing mask to their faces which helped keep the air warm and moist given the brutal temperatures they were moments away from entering.


A quick visual check indicated everyone was prepared.  Ramius gave the order.  “Energize.”


## Surface of Romulan Planet D’aisnenn ##


The transporter beam released the small infiltration team from its grasp into a bitterly cold environment of snow, ice, wind, and little else.  The entire landscape was much like that of Earth’s moon except covered in a sheet of iridescent ice as smooth as the most brilliant pearl and polished by millennia of powerful, unrelenting winds.   The lone ruler of  clawed at the men who dared stand against it on the barren planet.  Ramius looked upwards and shielded his eyes against the dim white dwarf star which bathed everything in a blue white hue.


“The shield should be about a half a click ahead.  Watch the terrain and your footing.  Sergeant, have your men fall out, Akina and I will cover your six.  Let’s move out.”


The men slowly proceeded toward their destination which was invisible against the white backdrop of an endless sea of blue and white.


# Later #


“Tricorder indicates a weak power signature nearby sir.  According to our position we should be only a few meters outside of the cloaking field.”


Ramius nodded retrieving his phaser as Akina followed suit.  The marines were already brandishing their rifles with Akina and Ramius opting for smaller weaponry to remain agile and mobile.


“Stay tight.  If we encounter resistance passing through the shield evacuate and return to the Corsair.  Understood?”


“Yes sir”, came the unanimous reply.  “Let’s go.”


The marines took point and one by one the men cautiously moved forward.


[ To Be Continued … ]




Captain Taverain Ramius

Commanding Officer, USS Corsair


Captain Zane Akina

Intelligence Operative


NPC Marines

Monday, April 26, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241004.26 | Duty Log | Lhaetan tr'Valkar

[Galae Facilities, I'Rak Prime]


Morning had come on board the Rihannsu orbital facilities before any further word had come in from the frontier regions. And, after his rather interesting evening spent reading over countless reports and evaluations of the Shiarrael t'Rehu made by numerous officers and field agents over the last decade, erie'Arrain tr'Valkar was excited to see that the USS Charon was again prominently mentioned in them. The vessel and its commanding officer had quickly become some of the most interesting material to come through this particular field office.


Still though, just a few hours after reading his first reports on the Starfleet crew, Lhaetan still had no idea where he had previously heard t'Rehu's name. Messages had been sent to both his mother on ch'Rihan and his brothers stationed at various points around the Galae forces. None had yet responded, but the young officer was sure that the question would be answered in no time.


In the mean time, the Endless Sky was making fast progress on its return, and the Erissvae'sa and Vrelaui had both reported that the Starfleet vessel was on a direct course to the Lyrillian System, apparently planning to eventually return home as well.


'Licking their wounds?' tr'Valkar thought to himself as he studied the starmaps that had accompanied the reports. After the sort of defeat they had suffered it would be understandable for humans to behave as such, but for a Rihannsu? Especially after the fight described in the reports; even in defeat, they had put up a noble fight.


But then, what sort of Rihannsu would serve in Starfleet? Working for and alongside the human ataen. A vang'radam, no less, and consort to a human.


The reports on t'Rehu went on and on.


However, there were files on a number of other Charon crew members, none as interesting as their Captain's, but entertaining to read nonetheless. Lhaetan had sat up through most of the night reading through the database.


"And what is it that you are doing, erie'Arrain?"


Quickly looking up from the computer console the young man found his superior standing behind him, looking over his shoulder at the contents of the display screen. Clearing his throat Lhaetan replied, "Reviewing incoming reports from the field, rekkhai."


"Aeuthn qiu oaii mnek'nra?"


With a firm nod the erie'Arrain answered, "Oiuu'n mnekha."


Apparently dissatisfied with tr'Valkar's response, the Arrain bent further over the console, reading through its contents. After a moment white teeth appeared as a grin cracked, "t'Rehu, eh? I wouldn't waste my time reading out that ryak'na."


Knowing not to argue with his superior, Lhaetan moved to close the files from the monitor, "Yes, rekkhai. As you wish."


"And what of the Temep'Shar?"


Lhaetan pulled up the appropriate data, along with a starchart showing the last reported location, "The Endless Sky is in procession of the Vulcan vessel and is en route, rekkhai. t'Rehu has made no attempt to pursue."


While this information really grabbed at Lhaetan's attentions, the elder officer seemed to disregard it almost casually. For a vessel such as the Temep'Shar to be handed over such as it was…well, the junior officer had no clue as to why anyone would allow such power to slip away so easily.  The Tal'Shiar would surely have a field day with its technology.


As the Arrain retreated into another area of the section, Lhaetan settled back into his seat, setting aside the files on the Rihannsu captain and her Starfleet vessel, returning to the rest of the incoming data files. There would be more time to continue reading their stories after his duty shift had ended…


[To Be Continued…]


erie'Arrain Lhaetan i-Mhiessan tr'Valkar

Intelligence Officer, Tal'Diann

Galae Forces, I'Rak Prime