Nervos Belli
Don't think this means you've won!
- Location
- Murica
Like the Klingons, no one knows how long the Amarki live. They always die honorably in battle before old age gets them.
To Boldly Go... (a Starfleet quest)
- Thread starter OneirosTheWriter
- Start date
- Sci-Fi
-
- Tags
- star trek exploration fully automated luxury gay space communism top level canon (canon) #hashtagcontent all-encompassing space amoeba cardassian boy bands cardassian magical girls darkest bureaucracy debate makes the qm cackle like palpatine hoh is an empire quest it has to be foreign infiltrators more ships ship happens singers delenda est starfleet this is not an empire quest ur waifu is collective?
Like the Klingons, no one knows how long the Amarki live. They always die honorably in battle before old age gets them.
AKuz
Been Better
- Location
- A Rising Tide of Horrors
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Hmmm. I don't think it has...?
@OneirosTheWriter, please clarify?
Though now I'm picturing Nash and Leaniss having "The Lifespan Talk"
> : P
Nervos Belli
Don't think this means you've won!
- Location
- Murica
Well since Nash was going to end up with that Romulan captain anyways, guess she gets it twice. Poor her.
AKuz
Been Better
- Location
- A Rising Tide of Horrors
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Ah, yes, the Harem/TOTALLY TRADITIONAL ANDORIAN MARRIAGE route.
I hear it has many fans!
> : 3
I'd be willing to give it some serious consideration! The bigger Ambassador suffers from serious build constraints. A more compact version that is still superior to an Excelsior could be a real winner.
Alastor Mobius Toth
***** ***
- Location
- Neon Ghetto
I shudder to imagine what discovery of Andorians or, god forbid, Betazeds did to anime market.
I can already see the practical joke of somebody giving an Andorian a stack of harem LNs and explaining that they are accounts of human mating rituals.
- Location
- somewhere
Or rather 4 of them and one more one year from completion, i. e. running the single available berth full time.
With the previous design sheet we could expect future classes to have a higher br:sr ratio, with the current one its not automatic but still possible to achieve if you make it one of the priorities. Ideally slanted research towards sr mining techs will even out the supply enough not to need to worry about it.
Keep in mind that making br:sr ratio a priority means making sacrifices elsewhere. I would only do so by default to meet a design requirement. So if you want such a ship, vote for it.
Error for real though, MRA5 needs to be one month earlier, and Chen's bonus does not count unless the berth size is the same so will not apply to 40E-A.Well we do love our Excelsiors. If it helps, given the proximity of war I am going to propose constructing 3 new Miranda-As next quarter. With Chen's bonus we can get them built in only 1.5 years, likely in time to make a difference. Of course... I am also going to propose starting 2 new Excelsiors. We do love our Excelsiors.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
Yeah, basically Saavik comes across as either Spock's adopted daughter or his little sister, and it's creepy either way.
Although given how long-lived Vulcans are, by, say, the late 2320s when Saavik is like sixty years old and not actively in a mentor-student relationship with Spock, the creepiness factor can be argued to decline just a bit. Sort of like how if someone studies under a particular professor and they're closely associated in that person's college years... but then 20-30 years later when they're both successful established professionals and have grown independent of each other, they get together.
But that only addresses the mentor-student thing, which is kind of less important than the maybe-canonical familial thing.
If I were writing her I wouldn't write it in, though I wouldn't rule it out either, out of respect for others who don't share my opinion.
Going by The Deadly Years, Vulcans go through a significant midlife metabolic shift and start to lose concentration some time after 100; I'd place 100 for Vulcans at being the equivalent of about 55 for humans, the point at which nearly everyone will really start to notice yourself getting old. Sarek is an old man at 200, but his problem isn't that he's insanely old for Vulcan standards, it's a specific obscure mental disorder that may or may not be age-related.
Also... math man powers activate!
Your thing is equivalent to multiplying by three fifths and rounding a bit. AKA "multiply by 3, divide by 5."
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You're right about the crew deduction date, and I just corrected. You're wrong about the berth size, though. I just went back and looked at the full description of Chen's bonus in this post.
Says nothing about berth size being the same.
AKuz
Been Better
- Location
- A Rising Tide of Horrors
- Pronouns
- She/Her
So, quick question.
No reason, but...How do Orion pheremones work? I don't mean like, chemically, I mean where do they come from? Is in all the sweat? Are these specific glands in the armpits or something? In saliva?
As far as I can tell the only source for it, "Bound" -ENT, pretty much goes:
"¯\_(ツ)_/¯ <(It happens somehow, don't worry about it)"
Just curious, for legitimately non-skeevy reasons. I assure you. The reasons are entirely non skeevy.
No reason, but...How do Orion pheremones work? I don't mean like, chemically, I mean where do they come from? Is in all the sweat? Are these specific glands in the armpits or something? In saliva?
As far as I can tell the only source for it, "Bound" -ENT, pretty much goes:
"¯\_(ツ)_/¯ <(It happens somehow, don't worry about it)"
Just curious, for legitimately non-skeevy reasons. I assure you. The reasons are entirely non skeevy.
I think it's gotta be a system where they can control it. Otherwise on a meta level it aligns with skeevy PUA stuff if orion women just ALWAYS cause men to go crazy around them, the men can't help being controlled you see, it's all the Orions fault and they need to be kept separate.
I know someone who writes reboot-verse fic where Orions use their pheromones to add a chemical signaling dimension to their language, but I don't know how the mind-control and conditioning stuff works.
- Location
- madison
I don't think there is a cannon source.
Night
Widow Null
- Location
- Hoff
A likely story!
I mean, regular humans technically have phermones as well we're just so bad at them they don't factor much. (Any species that sweats probably does them that way. We do, certainly. For species that don't sweat, in nature they're generally located near other organs that allow the expelling of stuff from the body, one way or another.)
- Location
- Location: Location!
It's a gland juuuuust below the PLOT — Para-Lymbic Odorific Tissue.
Seriously, though, TV canon hasn't specified. Pick what's most convenient.
It is nice to see that the Rennie prototype finish time is now within reach, only 6 quarters away. I see the current plan has 4 new Rennies laid down as soon as the prototype clears the berth
Everyone else - our Escorts blot out your Stars. The Feds respond with - we do it with Cruisers :lol
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
I like this. And Saavik is an '80s movie character, so having her special greatness come in a form that shares some qualities with Die Hard and Indy makes sense.
And, like the characters you reference, she seems unremarkable and ordinary, until something goes horribly wrong in and everything looks doomed, at which point having her in charge is tied for "best decision you could have made," right up there with "pick a certain captain whose name rhymes with 'brashly starring.' "
Dunno; if the economy goes well and Ambassadors don't turn out to have truly insano pricing, we may be able to afford to build them in the same high rate we're turning out Excelsiors now through much of the 2320s, '30s, and '40s...
Remember that Chen's bonus won't last forever. Expanding existing yards to benefit from it for the 5-10 years we're likely to have it is probably a good idea. Building entire new yards, not so much in my opinion.
On the other hand, it seems likely that their "vulcanoid" nature refers more to biochemistry and body plan than to longevity, and there's no special reason they SHOULD be more long-lived than the common run of sentients.
If we go with the headcanon that actual Vulcans are genetically modified (discussed in this thread a number of times), and that the Klingons may be too... Those are honestly the two main outliers for biological longevity in Star Trek right there.
I'd actually really prefer to see a "best we can do" Ambassador, one that we can confidently expect to remain superior to enemy cruisers up into the TNG era. If we try to build a two-megaton explorer with present technology, we may be disappointed by how it copes with Jalduns and Vor'chas, ship classes that are likely to start showing up well within its operational lifetime.
That said, I am comfortable with the idea of a 1.8 or two-megaton pocket explorer as a next generation "sector flagship" or taking on a role that gradually supplants the Rennie/ConnieBee as a 'line' ship. It'd be overkill for present defense requirements, but I honestly expect defense requirements to start climbing significantly in the next 10-20 years. The three-megaton Ambassadors could be pretty much specifically intended for the Explorer Corps, where capability is really, really important and material cost matters less because the ships tend to pay for themselves as long as they don't get prematurely eaten by a random event.
I'm guessing they can decide NOT to turn on the pheromones. Otherwise, literally all Orion males would be enthralled, all the time, and would probably be whipsawed around by imprinting on whichever females happened to be in a given area they were standing in. It may be that there are subconscious factors that make them more likely to start giving off pheromones, but that on the whole it's something they can train themselves to control (and most do, and women who don't are just considered obnoxious).
Given that the pheromones seem to work at a distance and can affect people who haven't been blatantly exposed to saliva or anything, I'm going to assume that Orion pheromones are released in sweat or its equivalent. It may well be that there's constant low-level exposure from them sweating in the air around them, coupled with much higher-level exposure to the point where, say, Orion saliva might reasonably be considered a psychoactive drug.
Enthrallment probably involves deliberately exposing someone to more than usual of the pheromones, possibly after deliberate artificial concentration.
On a side note we have, canonically in TOS, a species where the females' tears have effects comparable to what's attributed to Orion pheromones. I'm mentally retconning them as an abandoned/isolated Orion colony from when they were at their imperial peak, and as to why Elaan of Troyius wasn't green, well, shrug.
Forgothrax
Not Going Gently
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Mirandas we should stop building after the Cardassians have been dealt with . There are SDB designs with a cost of 65br/60sr and the same crew as a Miranda, but with +2 C/P and +1 all other stats. So they're as good in peacetime as a Centaur but fight like a slightly more fragile Rennie.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
Assuming that isn't altered by rebalancing, I'm on board with that. Although to be fair, if war with the Cardassians starts SOON, and if we get any options for drastically accelerated wartime shipbuilding...
We just might end up with a couple of dozen Mirandas by the end of the war anyway.
EDIT: And within a decade or so we would totally lock them all away in a boneyard somewhere, stuck in plastic wrap bubbles labeled "in case of apocalyptic military threat pop bubble."
We just might end up with a couple of dozen Mirandas by the end of the war anyway.
EDIT: And within a decade or so we would totally lock them all away in a boneyard somewhere, stuck in plastic wrap bubbles labeled "in case of apocalyptic military threat pop bubble."
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Omake - Citizen Soldiers and Slave Armies - AKuz
AKuz
Been Better
- Location
- A Rising Tide of Horrors
- Pronouns
- She/Her
A/N said:
Citizen Soldiers and Slave Armies
Strike Corporal Valara Nalaya stares at her food, loosely poking at a bowl of noodles with a dull utensil. She isn't the only one. The Aerocommando mess hasn't been this quiet since the aftermath of the Vessia massacre. Casualties from the Duaba operation had been fairly light though. This was something different.
This was a silence of women slowly coming to terms their deaths.
Nalaya's Lieutenant continues from her perch atop a mess table surrounded by her Aerocommando unit, "Current intelligence indicates a near one hundred percent chance of war with the Cardassians if Celos does not fall within the week." Lieutenant Auras is more subdued, and less of a discount Sierre or Darras, since she lost her hand on Duaba… since her cousin died in the Lirohn bombing, "We will still have the support of Amarki gendarme units, though there is no time for us to complete our training or introductions with them." the Lieutenant unconsciously rubs her cybernetic replacement hand, "Though I expect the prospect of Victory or Death at all costs will focus both our units together."
Fuck Celos. Fuck those stupid, lazy SSD bitches! They had ONE JOB. All they had to do was hold one world they'd already pacified. All they had to do was defend themselves from scattered Syndicate attacks but they'd fucked that up. Fucked it up and now Orions had to worry about Cardassian torpedos slamming into cities. About Alukk melted under Cardassian guns or Broken Chains returned to slavery by alien lizards.
"Fucking Syndicate." Nalaya mutters under her breath.
"Fortunately we may have several…" Lieutenant Auras takes a long shallow breath, "advantages in play on Celos." The junior officer's enthusiasm and zeal have been replaced with a starved, gnawing hatred, a seething disgust that has begun to seep into her tone and words. "First: we control the orbitals. Obviously. Otherwise we wouldn't be dropping on Syndicate backs soon." The Lieutenant smiles tightly in anticipation. "The Federation officer who will be in command of the ground side operations is an expert at space to ground ortillery strikes of all kinds. We shouldn't be afraid of calling down fire danger close." A relief to the assembled Aercommandos of Corporal Nalaya's unit; danger close from the Union Navy often meant just "Danger".
"Second: There are indications that this revolt does NOT. I repeat: Does NOT have popular support. Aside from low level protests protests before the coup the civilian element on Celos had not been a danger." Auras gives her women hard looks, "While we must always be vigilant against treason we must, MUST, remember that the general will is on our side. We are, as always, liberators to the people"
Nalya pushes her noodles away and sits back in her chair with crossed arms and lidded eyes as she continues to listen to her Lieutenant's informal briefing, "Third: and this one is a mixed curse admittedly. The Celosian traitors have units of Syndicate brutes who have been fighting since the initial campaigns on Celos. This makes them hard, tough fighters that have learned how to fight and win out of pure merit."
"Unless they're the cowards that have been hiding until now," another Corporal points out with a smirk.
"It's possible, but I wouldn't invest in that idea Sepia." says the Lieutenant leaning forward intently, "Intelligence does indicate that the units that shattered the SSD were small harassing units that hadn't intended to take and hold ground. Any reinforcements would have to be from local conscripts. Not trained fighters" Nalaya crosses her arms thoughtfully. That means that the Syndicate that were now handling the defence of Celos were guerillas that weren't trained or used to fighting pitched battles. And slaughtering guerillas in pitched battles was one of the Aerocommando's favorite pastimes.
"Fourth," the Lieutenant holds up four cybernetic fingers in the air, "Many of the local law enforcement and SSD units may be mostly intact. The Syndicate pushed directly for key command and control areas and shattered the defenders. Units in the outlying areas and survivors of the route may still be intact and fighting on the ground."
Someone scoffs, "Fucking SSD? Might as well give them to the Syndics to make things fair"
"Stow it Private Molas." Auras continues, "We need those SSD remnants if we want to take Celos back before the Apocalypse comes. And especially if we want to show the Galaxy that Celos belongs to the people and not to a hyper-regressive caste of Syndicate and Execs."
Lieutenant Auras stands up from the table she's been leaning against, "And finally Aerocommandos. Finally! Our greatest advantage here:" she smiles a toothy smile, "We are Goddessdamned Aerocommandos! We fight and win every day for the people. And we aren't going to roll over because some rich bitch Exec decided to throw a tantrum over lower profit margins!"
Corporal Nalaya joins the chorus of "URRRAHHH" from her unit as she salutes her Officer. But inside she's not quite as cheered as she appears. There is a reckoning coming.
The Aerocommando can feel in her bones and see it in her comrade's eyes. They're all going to die.
The Corporal picks up her bowl of noodles to return for recycling and considers her future carefully. It's not that she wants to die, it's that the alternative to failure is so high. She doesn't want everything that she and her friends and comrades have done to be for naught. Vaporized under a Cardassian torpedo.
Nalaya wanders out of the mess, vaguely resolved to wander aimlessly around the military transport. What sort of life would she have in a full on galactic war? Fighting without end, without hope? Sydraxians and Cardassians and Romulans and friendlies stretched thin across the quadrant. What hope would the Union have? Only the help of their Federation sisters had given the Union's anti-corruption campaigns any momentum.
The Aerocommando decides to shoot something. A little target practice. Turning targets into little melted piles of goo always made her felt better. Well, aboard transport, it was more like "Shoot a target on low power and watch the paint get slightly blackened in an exciting way"
Shortly thereafter Valara finds herself wedged into the corner of the range with an barely powered phase disruptor; still preoccupied with the upcoming battle despite landing shot after shot on the poor blackened target. Even shooting without HUD assistance from her helmet visor doesn't help.
What does take her mind off the upcoming battle is deep voiced swearing from the next stall over. The Corporal pops her head back to take a look and sees one of her new Amarki "Comrades" semi hunched over his phase-disruptor. Heh, Men.
"You misaligned the power pack" she says with a bare minimum of condescension. Just a touch really as she deactivates her helmet HUD and pulls the pack from her own weapon before setting it down on her stall.
"Yes. I know" says the Amarki soldier angrily, waving a hand in annoyance, "Catch is bent or something"
"Oh, yeah, that" She kneels down next to the man to where he can see her in his peripheral vision using the side of his HUD, "Yeah that's not standard. It's a stun bypass." Valara reaches out to point at the small catch and mimes a quick wrist gesture, "You have to to just give 'im the right touch"
The Amarki forcefully pulls the powerpack out and shoves it back in; using Valara's wrist gesture, "Huh" he says as the two hear a satisfying click, "That's not a normal feature"
"Normal feature for us." she points at her own deactivated carbine, "Next time I'm stuck pissing stun blasts at armoured targets I want the option to add a little kick you know?" she grins predatorially, "Not exactly politically standard unless you're Darras. But it's better than losing most of a company again"
The Amarki looks at Valara as he sets his weapon aside, "You were at Vessia? Well fought." he places a fist against his breast in an Amarki salute, "Serjeant Vaelin, Confederacy Gendarmes, 3rd Brigade, 7th Battalion. At your service ma'am" says the Amarki as he sizes Valara up and she looks him over in turn.
Fit, professional looking, handsome in that pretty Amarki way, exotic. Not bad for someone the Syndicate call "Pretty Savages".
Valara smiles and laughs, "Don't ma'am me. I work for a living. Strike Corporal Valara Nalaya. Union Navy Aerocommandos, 1st Regiment 1st Company. The hot end of the phaser."
"It'll be good to fight with Veterans that know what they're doing then. Not glorified town watch"
Valara grimaces, "Don't talk to me about the town watch. We're going down to clear up their messes. Stupid Bitches. They. Had. One! Job!" she tosses a hand imperiously, "phhhsss. SSD"
"Not used to these 'Phase Disruptors' we've been using Klingon war era surplus Type-3s until now"
"Yeah, not bad weapons. Can't take a pounding though." she mimes a butt strike, "Can't really even use one as a club if you wanted to. These little carbines are built on Broken chains. A design from the Revolutionary days." she hold up Vaelin's carbine, "Sturdy, all but invulnerable to dust, mud, and water. You can charge those packs in a civilian outlet if you wanted to. Take a hell of a long time, but you don't have to talk to a Starship for a recharge if you're backed into a shielded apartment block"
Vaelin nods, "Yeah, they didn't just switch us over without telling us those things"
Valara grins mischeviously, "Right, the official talk. So, we put those mechanical switches in, they come that way now. Darras' girls make sure that we're actually getting old stock Revolutionary gear. Not the corp bought stuff, built on the cheap, by indentured labour and six credit cybers" she hoists the weapon heavily in her hands, "Reinforced stock, precision built by the angriest men on Broken Chains, there's a couple of more tricks I should show you." she says smiling widely.
Valein smiles back, and raises an eyebrow, "Ohh... really? Hands on I hope?"
The Aerocommando grins toothily: if she's going to be dead in a week anyway; she might as well have fun.
------------------
A week later Strike Corporal Valara Nalaya has failed to die. She and her sisters (And Amarki brothers) have failed. Are failing. Running out of time as Syndicate counter-attack with poor bastards doped up on pheromones and daring the Cardassians to show up and get involved.
All while the 1st Company 1st Regiment Aerocommandos and 3rd Company, 2nd Brigade, 9th Battallion desperately counterattack into the outskirts of Celos City, fighting Syndicate enforcers and doped up conscripts mixed in with the Civilian population.
"FORWARD! FORWARD!" Screams Lieutenant Auras as she leads a charge out of the cover of a half slagged portico across a courtyard into a burned out bistro, "ADVANCE" she says while waving a pistol in the air.
Valara, prone behind a small rise of dirt and cracked pavement, lines up a shot on an apartment balcony placed Syndicate fighter who was himself lining up a shot on the Lieutenant.
With the loud whine of her Phase-Disruptor Carbine she vapourises the man's knee, sending him plummeting twelve stories to the ground where he lands in manner most incompatible with continued living.
The Lieutenant and her squad reach the other side of the street and disappear inside the building with mixed lances of fire exiting the walls of the building at wild angles.
Valara lays down cover fire for the next squad to move across the street. In the corner of her eyes, she catching sight of Auras in a window, watching the woman slam the emitter of a certainly illegal plasma pistol to the neck of Syndicate officer, and opening fire, separating head from neck in a spray of superheated particles.
Then it's Valara's turn herself and she advances low across the pockmarked and cracked street lances of fire from Amarki gendarmes firing in the air over her head.
The Strike Corporal is just in time to watch Private Molas get speared through the chest by a cylinder of hot green disruptor particles; tearing open the woman's armour and removing half of her chest along with her life.
Nalaya takes revenge on Molas's killer and then it's over. The Syndicate have fallen back again.
"Sound off" Calls one of the Sergeants, as Aercommandos and Amarki Gendarmes reply in chorus, fewer in number than before but victorious. In a manner of speaking.
Lieutenant Auras walks out into the middle of the street as if in a daze and kneels down next to one of the Syndicate dead; muttering to herself.
Valara looks around quickly before dashing out to her Lieutenant, "Ma'am!" she hisses, "Get back in cover"
"They won't be back soon" says the Lieutenant, softly, angrily, as she turns the man over onto his back, "Look at that. Look at his eyes."
Valara looks down, bloodshot, his skin slightly glossy, and eyes teary. A sure sign of Pheromone overdose, "Poor Bastard"
Another Aerocommando has come out to the middle of the street, "Fucking Syndicate. You know?" says Corporal Sepia, "I hear that the stuff they're doped up on is made from Garita." the woman wrinkles her nose, "She gets off on providing samples to manufacture artificial Pheromones"
It's probably not true. But Garita's not being taken alive by anyone who's fought on Celos. That much has been agreed upon since they first realised the men they were fighting were doped up Pheromone heads while being pushed out of the city.
"Doesn't matter" says the Lieutenant, "Sergent Holoa! Police these bodies, set aside a squad for burial detail"
"Ma'am?" comes back in confusion over the Tactical network as digital icons start being sorted into separate gory details.
Auras closes the man's eyes and stands up to move to another unmoving body, "These men deserve proper burials." she looks up, "Leave the Officers. They don't even deserve the scorn of free women"
A mildly confused but accepting Amarki officer has his Gendarmes set up a perimeter around the block as the Orion Aerocommandos dig up the heavily packed ground of the courtyard and place the bodies of their enemies inside.
As they work Civilians begin to reappear as the fighting ends. No one comes out into the open, but blinds shift quickly, and shutters crack open slightly.
The Lieutenant moves from body to body as the Syndicate men are moved to the impromptu graves. Sergent Holoa comes up next the officer as she watches Corporals Nalaya and Sepia lower a body under the ground.
"Ma'am you know that some of those men are probably Volunteers or believers?" says the Sergent in a quiet voice, her microphone turned off.
"I know Sergeant" the Lieutenant stares at the body slick with blood, "But do you think they had a chance there at the end? If they had any option to surrender? The Principle of freedom in a military is the freedom to consentingly place oneself under the command of others."
Auras pointedly doesn't look at an Syndicate NCO behind her, guts spilled across the street and heavily stepped on, "You think they were ever able to consent? This separatist government is evil. Garita is evil. The Cardassians are evil." she stares at the body as an older and grey haired Orion civilian woman slowly makes her way to the currently unburied grave, "And I don't mean greedy Execs who deserve to lose their exalted position. But real actual evil. Anyone who could support such a thing is unredeemable. If this city was not filled with hostages I would advise Starfleet to burn it down to the foundations. To purge this darkness from the universe for all peoples, forever"
The older Orion woman skitters up and grabs the Syndicate body with a sob as Corporal Nalya gently releases him. She sobs and looks up at Auras, "He was a good boy. All we had left. He just had a few debts. He didn't deserve this" she sobs heavily.
Auras kneels back down next to the woman and sets a hand on her shoulder, "Ma'am. I wish it wasn't so. He never had a chance"
The woman shoots Auras a hot look, "But your solda-girl. She shot him dead"
Valara feels a stab of guilt that confuses her more than it should.
Auras punches the ground, "It's this evil. Evil wins if good women do nothing. We could not stand by as Garita put shackles and bruises on all of you" the Lieutenant steps back out into the middle of the street and activates her voice amplifier, as she spins in place, arms wide; addressing the slightly ajar shutters and fingers poked into blinds.
"We're here to stop this Evil!" she screams, "You are being placed in chains by the slavers and butchers of an entire quadrant! A sisterhood of the free from world after world is here to help you." she steps over the dead Syndic NCO, kicking up squelches of blood, "THE UNION IS HERE TO FREE YOU!" she begs, "Please, fight with us! Garita and her cronies will betray you to Cardassian tyrants for their own gratification.
"You're just as bad!" comes a male voice from a high balcony, "I lost my cousin to those SSD butchers!"
"We hung those traitors, those butchers of the people" the Aerocommando Lieutenant begs, "We are here to save you. Just as I wish we could have saved those men pumped full of Pheromones until they had no options but to obey their cowardly mistress! Please, join us and fight for your own rights! Fight for your liberty! You equality! Fight the Syndicate chains"
"YOU'RE STILL ALL THE SAME!" comes back the reply
"ARE WE? DO YOU SEE ANYONE IN MY UNIT ENTHRALLED WITH A PERVERSION OF BIOLOGY TO DIE IN THE PLACE OF FREE CITIZENS?" the angry Lieutenant sounds on the verge of tears, "HAVE WE OR STARFLEET EVER KILLED TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND INNOCENTS IN AN AFTERNOON?" she implores the sky; the watching and hiding civilians. "HAS ANY SYNDICATE ENFORCER WALKED OUT INTO CERTAIN DEATH, SACRIFICING HIM OR HERSELF TO SAVE OTHERS?"
"GARITA AND HER CARDASSIAN PUPPET MASTERS OFFER YOU NOTHING BUT DEATH AND ETERNAL SERVITUDE. NOTHING WILL CHANGE FOR YOU." she pauses, "ALL I ASK, ALL WE ASK IS THAT YOU ACT AS A FREE PEOPLE AND RESIST HER. RESIST GARITA BY PROTEST, RESIST CARDASSIA BY OPENLY TELLING THEM TO STAY AWAY. I DON'T ASK FOR YOU TO FIGHT, ALL I ASK IS THAT YOU ACT AS FREE MEN AND WOMAN"
The Lieutenant's arms suddenly snap down as if she is suddenly under the effect of higher gravity. Her energy suddenly sapped dry. She signals for her women to bury the bodies. To show them the respect denied to them by their mistresses.
Sergeant Holoa comes follows the Lieutenant back out into the street to slowly lead her back inside, "Ma'am do you think that did anything?"
The Lieutenant sighs, "I don't don't know Sergeant." she looks up at blinds and shutters, "I can't force them to do anything or to think anything. All I can do is implore them to be free citizens. That's all any of us can do from the President and Sierre on down." Auras looks very sad for a moment, "If there is any chance of them to free citizens, to ignore fear, propaganda, and ignorance… I…" she lets out a breath, "Time to move on"
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Omake - Academy View - Briefvoice
Academy View
"...fighting on Celos continues, doing nothing to lighten tensions along the Cardassian Union border. This is Cecil Bornellas, signing off from Aluuk." A chime rang, and the newscast ended.
Jacqueline Appel took the earbud out and exhaled a loud sigh. She immediately regretted it when a slight shifting from a few meters away revealed she had drawn the attention of her roommate.
"Ah, sorry T'Wilit. Didn't mean to break your concentration."
The Vulcan woman shook her head carefully, straight-edged bob haircut swaying back and forth. "If I had required silence, there are many study cubes available."
Jackie started to turn her head away, only to have T'Wilit continue.
"However. I choose to interrupt my studies in order to attend to what I deem to be a higher priority, the well-being of my assigned roommate. My observations indicate that an exhalation of that length and tonal quality correspond to you suffering an emotionally agitated state. I seek to confirm my hypothesis with an interrogatory- What is the matter Jacqueline?"
"No, I'm just uh, tired," said Jackie. Even as she said it, her old bad habit reasserted itself and she looked up and to the side. She could never look someone in the eyes when lying to them.
When Jackie turned her eyes back, T'Wilit was patiently staring at her, eyebrow raised, obviously not fooled. Yeah, she wasn't going to give up. Jackie had no idea if this was normal for Vulcans or just T'Wilit's own personal kind of crazy, but the other girl approached interpersonal relationships like it was one of her advanced mathematical equations. She had once shown Jackie a 'friendship flow chart,' which contained endless lists of contingencies. T'Wilit really liked lists.
"Fine. It's all this talk about war this, war that. I didn't come to Starfleet Academy because I wanted to fight in a war."
"If you had, I would be forced to question your fitness to be at this institution," replied T'Wilit dryly.
"I know. I know nobody here wants a war. All the newscasts, though, they say we could be at war with the Cardassians next week. People who were our upperclassmen just last year are out there on ships, preparing to try to blow to Cardassian ships and not get blown up themselves. Then when I think about that, I feel powerful guilty that I'm safe at the Academy and not out there risking myself with them. I don't like fighting, but l like having other people do the fighting for me even less."
"Then your plans for a security specialization next year are logical," replied T'Wilit. As she did, she picked up a PADD and began poking at it, screen tilted away so that Jackie couldn't see.
Courses during the final two years at Starfleet Academy were partially selected by the cadets, as they prepared for their area of specialization on entering Starfleet proper. Jackie had had seriously considered the engineering track and gone so far as make it a minor focus, but she had decided on a security emphasis in the end. She knew T'Wilit was going to be taking a high energy physics research assistantship that clearly pointed to the Science Officer track.
"Yeah well, I've always been good at wrangling unruly critters. Teachers say I broke some Academy records in applying restraints. I said to them, you wrestle down a few Trebaldor beasts and see how hard a humanoid seems. I- Hey, are you checking your flowchart?"
T'Wilit looked up from the PADD. "Of course not. I am composing and sending a message," she replied.
Jackie felt bad. "Aw, sorry, I-"
"The friendship flowchart would have little value if I had not memorized it, and I recall clearly the next logical course of action."
"And what exactly would that be?" Jackie asked suspiciously.
Before T'Wilit could answer, the door of their room was flung open. "I heard somebody here needs to have some fun!" said a cheerful voice.
Jackie looked over to see Mitchie Peh standing there. As was often the case, the human girl wore an enormous grin. Mitchie was one of the most sociable cadets at the academy, seemingly knowing every other cadet (as impossible as that was). She could also organize social gatherings at a moment's notice and was unsurprisingly going for a diplomatic specialization next year. The only question was-
"When did you have time to get here?! I swear T'Wilit only picked up the PADD half a minute ago!"
"Se~cret!" replied Mitchie. "Now get dressed for a trip into town, Mitchie's going to make sure aaaall your best friends are there."
Jackie crossed her arms. "I don't think-"
"Jacqueline," interrupted T'Wilit before Jackie could complete the refusal. "My observations indicate that the decline in your mood over the past few weeks correlates with reduced socialization. Correlation is not causation, but the potential for a causal relationship is worth experimental testing."
"What she said," added Mitchie.
Jackie gave in and got dressed. Besides, maybe it would make her feel better. Soon enough she, T'Wilit, and Mitchie were in downtown San Francisco, stepping into a lounge. The three women that were to make up the rest of their group were obvious enough. Jackie wasn't sure they were "all your best friends" but the description wasn't completely out there.
Jumping up from the table and running over to greet them was an Andorian shen named Dash sh'Rinboq. Perpetually loud, she had some degree of fame (or infamy) on campus for her constant boasts that she would become the best starship pilot in the galaxy. To be fair, her skills were supposed to be amazing and she was unsurprisingly going for the helmsperson track next year. In fact...
"Didn't you have a test for entrance into Nova Squadron tonight?" asked Jackie.
"Pssh. I know the rules and everyone gets two tries, take the higher score. Well I only need one try, so it's fine if I get a zero tonight. If a friend needs help, I'm there."
This despite the fact that last year two tries hadn't been enough. Well, that was Dash for you. No sense nagging her about it now.
They reached the table where the other two sat, synthehol drinks already in front of them. The first was an elegant Amarkian woman named Rartay Aronn. Her violet hair and pale skin seemed to glow in the lounge's subdued lighting. "So glad everyone could make it. Friends are quite a comfort in these troubled times, eh?" It was hard to believe she was going for a mineral survey and extraction specialization, but Jackie supposed a person's talents didn't always match up with their personality.
"Y-yes," stuttered the final member of the group, a small woman with light-colored hair and the jet black eyes of a Betazoid. Even after years at the Academy, Shayla Fluttrax sometimes seemed to have difficulty speaking out loud. Jackie knew her mainly from having met her while horseback riding, an extra curricular hobby that Jackie had picked up because she missed the ranch and Shayla because her telepathic gifts were extraordinarily strong with sub-sapient intelligences. She was really good with animals. They hadn't met much in classes, Shayla being on the medical track since her entrance to the academy.
As they sat down, Dash pounded the table. "Let's get this party started. Mitchie my main girl, give us a topic. Something fun."
Mitchie put a finger to the side of her head and pretended to think. "Something fun, something fun. Oh, I know, let's go with a classic. Best Explorer Corps captain, who's your favorite? No pausing to think. I want an answer from.... you!"
She turned in place and suddenly pointed at Shayla.
"M-me? I have to go first?" complained the Betazoid.
"Well some people's answers are going to be a little too obvious to be fun. So yes, you," replied Mitchie.
Shayla took a breath, then answered. "Well... I really like Commodore T'Lorel. She's so kind and understanding and endlessly patient."
"Isn't she famous for orbit to ground phaser strikes?" asked Jackie.
"I met her once. Her mind is an endless pool of serenity, clear and calm," continued Shayla.
"I heard she personally beat three Syndicate agents unconscious last week when they tried jump her," said Dash. "It made the news and everything."
"That's just... circumstances. It doesn't change who she is and she's really nice and she's my pick," said Shayla with a hint of unusual grumpiness. She turned and pointed at Dash. "You go next."
"Commodore Nash ka'Sharren," replied Dash without hesitation.
Mitchie fake-groaned. "I said some people were going to be obvious. You just like her because she's an Andorian."
"Wrong!" replied Dash.
"Is it because her name sounds like yours, darling?" asked Rartay.
"Wrong! Both of those would be stupid reasons to like someone."
"Then why is she your choice?" asked T'wilit.
"I like her because she always wins, of course! Okay, you go next, T'Wilit."
"Having a 'favorite captain' is most illogical. However to participate in the spirit of the discussion, I will identify the captain whose career I find most worth of study and emulation in order to better my own future Starfleet career. Commodore Victoria Eaton."
There was a silence from the table. "I thought for sure you'd pick Captain Straak," said Jackie.
T'Wilit gave off an air of smugness. "As Dash indicated, selecting a figure to emulate merely because they are of the same species is indeed illogical. While there is much about Captain Straak's career, about all of their careers, that is worthy of study, I find Commodore Eaton to be closest to my own talents. During her time in the Explorer Corps, she was renowned for her methodical nature and willingness to investigate every potential solution to a problem before declaring it insolvable. Having made my selection, I invite Rartay to continue this game."
"Ah well, I would have to go with Captain Maryam Ajam. Her story is so inspiring, don't you think? First officer of the Enterprise and so respected she's given her own Five Year Mission. Then... disaster! Ship nearly destroyed, believed to be dead. Finally, an escape from her captors fueled by her own iron will and a return to her loved ones. It even has the perfect coda where she rises to even greater heights, entrusted with not another 5 year mission but a 25 year mission, the longest and most daring mission of exploration that Starfleet has ever attempted. Would that I show even a tenth her fortitude and courage under similar conditions." Rartay paused, enjoying the memory of Ajam's incredible story.
"But I'm sure you all have fine reasons for selecting someone else. Mitchie dear, you began this so why don't you finish it off?"
Jackie interrupted. "Wait a minute, finish it off? Aren't I going to get to go?"
"We all know you're going to say Commodore Michel Thuir," replied Rartay.
"Yeah, we've all heard you go on about Thuir before," added Dash. "And how you were in the Miracht during his five year mission and how you got to spend your days depolarizing deck plates with a manually operated probe and how exciting that was. I mean it's a cool story, but yeah."
"I- I don't need to read minds to know you'll pick Thuir," added Shayla.
"You're all... yeah, you got me. Commodore Thuir, fine. Over to you Mitchie," said Jackie, giving up.
"Oh, I don't really have a favorite," answered Mitchie.
A distinct aura of rage erupted from everyone at the table.
"Okay, fine! Samhaya Mrr'shan I guess. She always seems to be having a good time, and that's important for diplomacy and stuff."
More drinks were ordered and more discussion was had, but a serious atmosphere began to fall over the table as everyone started to remember why they were gathered. Finally, T'Wilit prodded Jackie until she opened up about her fears on the coming war. She concluded, "Ah knew Starfleet protected the Federation when I was growing up, but I never really thought about that part when I thought about joining. Khitomer had already happened, and even though that stuff with the Biophage was scary, well it was just a monster in the end. A critter that wanted to hurt folks and had to be put down. I never thought about a war with people just the same as us. I guess I should have. I'm scared. Scared for me, for the Federation, for all of us. People are going to die if this war happens. People we know and care about. People on the other side we don't know, but folks care about them too. Nobody else seems to feel it. "
Jackie felt Shayla squeeze her hand. "Oh Applejack, you're so wrong. We're all scared. All of us, and I would know. You're just too honest to hide it."
"Hey, don't be using that nickname. Folks will pick it up," grumbled Jackie. She looked around the table. "You all really feel the same in the pit of your stomach?"
Dash and Mitchie nodded, Mitchie for once not grinning. T'Wilit maintained perfect Vulcan reserve and said, "Logic says that fear and anxiety act to cloud decision-making and interfere with rational decisions. They must be put aside. That place of logic... is an ideal to be pursued, not a goal one can say is ever truly reached." Which was as good as an admission that yes, she was afraid too.
Rartay drew their attention with a soft tap on the table. "We Amarkians talk a great deal about martial virtue and honor on the battlefield and the nobility of those who would lay down their lives for others. We believe in all of that because it is worth believing in and because-" She looked at T'Wilit. "Because if we cannot use logic to uncloud our thinking, then at least we can put up clouds of our own that let us do what needs to be done and... this analogy is completely getting away from me."
She laughed without much humor, then looked at Jackie. "Tell me, Darling, can you fight in this war if called upon?"
Jackie thought about it one more time. "I reckon I can."
"I 'reckon' I can too. So if called upon we'll fight together, for those who can't. Can't because they're physically unable or can't because... they can't. We must never resent them for it, either. Our lives are a gift to them, a gift we make to let them continue in peace. We'll fight for their peace."
"Most illogical," said T'Wilit.
"The most important things in life always are," replied Rartay.
---
I told you I'd do it. I warned you! Anyway, here, have five more characters whose careers we can follow from the Academy on. If they don't all die in a war....
"...fighting on Celos continues, doing nothing to lighten tensions along the Cardassian Union border. This is Cecil Bornellas, signing off from Aluuk." A chime rang, and the newscast ended.
Jacqueline Appel took the earbud out and exhaled a loud sigh. She immediately regretted it when a slight shifting from a few meters away revealed she had drawn the attention of her roommate.
"Ah, sorry T'Wilit. Didn't mean to break your concentration."
The Vulcan woman shook her head carefully, straight-edged bob haircut swaying back and forth. "If I had required silence, there are many study cubes available."
Jackie started to turn her head away, only to have T'Wilit continue.
"However. I choose to interrupt my studies in order to attend to what I deem to be a higher priority, the well-being of my assigned roommate. My observations indicate that an exhalation of that length and tonal quality correspond to you suffering an emotionally agitated state. I seek to confirm my hypothesis with an interrogatory- What is the matter Jacqueline?"
"No, I'm just uh, tired," said Jackie. Even as she said it, her old bad habit reasserted itself and she looked up and to the side. She could never look someone in the eyes when lying to them.
When Jackie turned her eyes back, T'Wilit was patiently staring at her, eyebrow raised, obviously not fooled. Yeah, she wasn't going to give up. Jackie had no idea if this was normal for Vulcans or just T'Wilit's own personal kind of crazy, but the other girl approached interpersonal relationships like it was one of her advanced mathematical equations. She had once shown Jackie a 'friendship flow chart,' which contained endless lists of contingencies. T'Wilit really liked lists.
"Fine. It's all this talk about war this, war that. I didn't come to Starfleet Academy because I wanted to fight in a war."
"If you had, I would be forced to question your fitness to be at this institution," replied T'Wilit dryly.
"I know. I know nobody here wants a war. All the newscasts, though, they say we could be at war with the Cardassians next week. People who were our upperclassmen just last year are out there on ships, preparing to try to blow to Cardassian ships and not get blown up themselves. Then when I think about that, I feel powerful guilty that I'm safe at the Academy and not out there risking myself with them. I don't like fighting, but l like having other people do the fighting for me even less."
"Then your plans for a security specialization next year are logical," replied T'Wilit. As she did, she picked up a PADD and began poking at it, screen tilted away so that Jackie couldn't see.
Courses during the final two years at Starfleet Academy were partially selected by the cadets, as they prepared for their area of specialization on entering Starfleet proper. Jackie had had seriously considered the engineering track and gone so far as make it a minor focus, but she had decided on a security emphasis in the end. She knew T'Wilit was going to be taking a high energy physics research assistantship that clearly pointed to the Science Officer track.
"Yeah well, I've always been good at wrangling unruly critters. Teachers say I broke some Academy records in applying restraints. I said to them, you wrestle down a few Trebaldor beasts and see how hard a humanoid seems. I- Hey, are you checking your flowchart?"
T'Wilit looked up from the PADD. "Of course not. I am composing and sending a message," she replied.
Jackie felt bad. "Aw, sorry, I-"
"The friendship flowchart would have little value if I had not memorized it, and I recall clearly the next logical course of action."
"And what exactly would that be?" Jackie asked suspiciously.
Before T'Wilit could answer, the door of their room was flung open. "I heard somebody here needs to have some fun!" said a cheerful voice.
Jackie looked over to see Mitchie Peh standing there. As was often the case, the human girl wore an enormous grin. Mitchie was one of the most sociable cadets at the academy, seemingly knowing every other cadet (as impossible as that was). She could also organize social gatherings at a moment's notice and was unsurprisingly going for a diplomatic specialization next year. The only question was-
"When did you have time to get here?! I swear T'Wilit only picked up the PADD half a minute ago!"
"Se~cret!" replied Mitchie. "Now get dressed for a trip into town, Mitchie's going to make sure aaaall your best friends are there."
Jackie crossed her arms. "I don't think-"
"Jacqueline," interrupted T'Wilit before Jackie could complete the refusal. "My observations indicate that the decline in your mood over the past few weeks correlates with reduced socialization. Correlation is not causation, but the potential for a causal relationship is worth experimental testing."
"What she said," added Mitchie.
Jackie gave in and got dressed. Besides, maybe it would make her feel better. Soon enough she, T'Wilit, and Mitchie were in downtown San Francisco, stepping into a lounge. The three women that were to make up the rest of their group were obvious enough. Jackie wasn't sure they were "all your best friends" but the description wasn't completely out there.
Jumping up from the table and running over to greet them was an Andorian shen named Dash sh'Rinboq. Perpetually loud, she had some degree of fame (or infamy) on campus for her constant boasts that she would become the best starship pilot in the galaxy. To be fair, her skills were supposed to be amazing and she was unsurprisingly going for the helmsperson track next year. In fact...
"Didn't you have a test for entrance into Nova Squadron tonight?" asked Jackie.
"Pssh. I know the rules and everyone gets two tries, take the higher score. Well I only need one try, so it's fine if I get a zero tonight. If a friend needs help, I'm there."
This despite the fact that last year two tries hadn't been enough. Well, that was Dash for you. No sense nagging her about it now.
They reached the table where the other two sat, synthehol drinks already in front of them. The first was an elegant Amarkian woman named Rartay Aronn. Her violet hair and pale skin seemed to glow in the lounge's subdued lighting. "So glad everyone could make it. Friends are quite a comfort in these troubled times, eh?" It was hard to believe she was going for a mineral survey and extraction specialization, but Jackie supposed a person's talents didn't always match up with their personality.
"Y-yes," stuttered the final member of the group, a small woman with light-colored hair and the jet black eyes of a Betazoid. Even after years at the Academy, Shayla Fluttrax sometimes seemed to have difficulty speaking out loud. Jackie knew her mainly from having met her while horseback riding, an extra curricular hobby that Jackie had picked up because she missed the ranch and Shayla because her telepathic gifts were extraordinarily strong with sub-sapient intelligences. She was really good with animals. They hadn't met much in classes, Shayla being on the medical track since her entrance to the academy.
As they sat down, Dash pounded the table. "Let's get this party started. Mitchie my main girl, give us a topic. Something fun."
Mitchie put a finger to the side of her head and pretended to think. "Something fun, something fun. Oh, I know, let's go with a classic. Best Explorer Corps captain, who's your favorite? No pausing to think. I want an answer from.... you!"
She turned in place and suddenly pointed at Shayla.
"M-me? I have to go first?" complained the Betazoid.
"Well some people's answers are going to be a little too obvious to be fun. So yes, you," replied Mitchie.
Shayla took a breath, then answered. "Well... I really like Commodore T'Lorel. She's so kind and understanding and endlessly patient."
"Isn't she famous for orbit to ground phaser strikes?" asked Jackie.
"I met her once. Her mind is an endless pool of serenity, clear and calm," continued Shayla.
"I heard she personally beat three Syndicate agents unconscious last week when they tried jump her," said Dash. "It made the news and everything."
"That's just... circumstances. It doesn't change who she is and she's really nice and she's my pick," said Shayla with a hint of unusual grumpiness. She turned and pointed at Dash. "You go next."
"Commodore Nash ka'Sharren," replied Dash without hesitation.
Mitchie fake-groaned. "I said some people were going to be obvious. You just like her because she's an Andorian."
"Wrong!" replied Dash.
"Is it because her name sounds like yours, darling?" asked Rartay.
"Wrong! Both of those would be stupid reasons to like someone."
"Then why is she your choice?" asked T'wilit.
"I like her because she always wins, of course! Okay, you go next, T'Wilit."
"Having a 'favorite captain' is most illogical. However to participate in the spirit of the discussion, I will identify the captain whose career I find most worth of study and emulation in order to better my own future Starfleet career. Commodore Victoria Eaton."
There was a silence from the table. "I thought for sure you'd pick Captain Straak," said Jackie.
T'Wilit gave off an air of smugness. "As Dash indicated, selecting a figure to emulate merely because they are of the same species is indeed illogical. While there is much about Captain Straak's career, about all of their careers, that is worthy of study, I find Commodore Eaton to be closest to my own talents. During her time in the Explorer Corps, she was renowned for her methodical nature and willingness to investigate every potential solution to a problem before declaring it insolvable. Having made my selection, I invite Rartay to continue this game."
"Ah well, I would have to go with Captain Maryam Ajam. Her story is so inspiring, don't you think? First officer of the Enterprise and so respected she's given her own Five Year Mission. Then... disaster! Ship nearly destroyed, believed to be dead. Finally, an escape from her captors fueled by her own iron will and a return to her loved ones. It even has the perfect coda where she rises to even greater heights, entrusted with not another 5 year mission but a 25 year mission, the longest and most daring mission of exploration that Starfleet has ever attempted. Would that I show even a tenth her fortitude and courage under similar conditions." Rartay paused, enjoying the memory of Ajam's incredible story.
"But I'm sure you all have fine reasons for selecting someone else. Mitchie dear, you began this so why don't you finish it off?"
Jackie interrupted. "Wait a minute, finish it off? Aren't I going to get to go?"
"We all know you're going to say Commodore Michel Thuir," replied Rartay.
"Yeah, we've all heard you go on about Thuir before," added Dash. "And how you were in the Miracht during his five year mission and how you got to spend your days depolarizing deck plates with a manually operated probe and how exciting that was. I mean it's a cool story, but yeah."
"I- I don't need to read minds to know you'll pick Thuir," added Shayla.
"You're all... yeah, you got me. Commodore Thuir, fine. Over to you Mitchie," said Jackie, giving up.
"Oh, I don't really have a favorite," answered Mitchie.
A distinct aura of rage erupted from everyone at the table.
"Okay, fine! Samhaya Mrr'shan I guess. She always seems to be having a good time, and that's important for diplomacy and stuff."
More drinks were ordered and more discussion was had, but a serious atmosphere began to fall over the table as everyone started to remember why they were gathered. Finally, T'Wilit prodded Jackie until she opened up about her fears on the coming war. She concluded, "Ah knew Starfleet protected the Federation when I was growing up, but I never really thought about that part when I thought about joining. Khitomer had already happened, and even though that stuff with the Biophage was scary, well it was just a monster in the end. A critter that wanted to hurt folks and had to be put down. I never thought about a war with people just the same as us. I guess I should have. I'm scared. Scared for me, for the Federation, for all of us. People are going to die if this war happens. People we know and care about. People on the other side we don't know, but folks care about them too. Nobody else seems to feel it. "
Jackie felt Shayla squeeze her hand. "Oh Applejack, you're so wrong. We're all scared. All of us, and I would know. You're just too honest to hide it."
"Hey, don't be using that nickname. Folks will pick it up," grumbled Jackie. She looked around the table. "You all really feel the same in the pit of your stomach?"
Dash and Mitchie nodded, Mitchie for once not grinning. T'Wilit maintained perfect Vulcan reserve and said, "Logic says that fear and anxiety act to cloud decision-making and interfere with rational decisions. They must be put aside. That place of logic... is an ideal to be pursued, not a goal one can say is ever truly reached." Which was as good as an admission that yes, she was afraid too.
Rartay drew their attention with a soft tap on the table. "We Amarkians talk a great deal about martial virtue and honor on the battlefield and the nobility of those who would lay down their lives for others. We believe in all of that because it is worth believing in and because-" She looked at T'Wilit. "Because if we cannot use logic to uncloud our thinking, then at least we can put up clouds of our own that let us do what needs to be done and... this analogy is completely getting away from me."
She laughed without much humor, then looked at Jackie. "Tell me, Darling, can you fight in this war if called upon?"
Jackie thought about it one more time. "I reckon I can."
"I 'reckon' I can too. So if called upon we'll fight together, for those who can't. Can't because they're physically unable or can't because... they can't. We must never resent them for it, either. Our lives are a gift to them, a gift we make to let them continue in peace. We'll fight for their peace."
"Most illogical," said T'Wilit.
"The most important things in life always are," replied Rartay.
---
I told you I'd do it. I warned you! Anyway, here, have five more characters whose careers we can follow from the Academy on. If they don't all die in a war....
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