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?
I always had the impression that Irrizziza was all about Nash rather than the Enterprise.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
If Oneiros is planning hijinks this could be an excuse to get Nash back on the Enterprise?
We've got to have opportunities for that to happen once in a while, after all.
We've got to have opportunities for that to happen once in a while, after all.
aeqnai
Nerdy Homu
- Location
- Laniakea Supercluster
- Pronouns
- She/Her
...
Maybe we can use the good ol' warp slingshot to have E do both of them?
- Location
- somewhere
If we get new tech teams a medical team should probably be the highest priority, but it seems dubious whether either of the two new members would offer one. What does seem likely would be a weapons/escort design team from the Apiata and a mineral science/whatever team from the Indorians. Both of those would still be relatively high priority, (among) the next highest after medical. The Orions seem relatively likely to offer medical, or perhaps we can buy a team next year if both the pp and the rp outlook allow for it.
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Omake - Defiant First Mission - Briefvoice
Defiant First Mission
Captain's Log, USS Defiant, Stardate 24974.8 – Captain T'Rinta
After being assessed complete by Commander Stolk, the Defiant has been ordered to immediately depart 40 Eridani A Shipyard and travel towards Klivvar Proxima in the Sydraxian Border Zone at High Alert cruising speeds. There we are to receive further orders from Commodore Crogan, commander of the Sydraxian Border Zone squadron.
The journey should take approximately 19.8 solar days. I plan to utilize this time to gain more familiarity with my new command. If ongoing political negotiations fail, I may shortly be leading this ship into battle.
Personal Log - T'Rinta
Though the majority of the crew has trained together for the past year, the Defiant is a newly constructed ship with no history of service. Precedents set in these first days may well continue to affect ship operations for many years and many captains to come. I consider this to be an opportunity.
===
Lt. Commander Hugo Church shifted in his seat nervously and took a sip of water. He took a glance at the Captain T'Rinta, but she was studiously ignoring everyone, studying a PADD and making the occasional note. Senior staff, which included Church as as alpha watch Helm Officer and Second Officer, had been called to the meeting room for a 'Stand Up Meeting'. According to the reoccurring appointment that had appeared on his calendar, T'Rinta planned to have them every five days.
Church looked around the room, his eyes alighting on Commander Hrell C'Nerow, the first officer. The Commander was a familiar sight, having been in charge for the past year as the crew trained to operate the Defiant. He was one of the most high-ranking Caitians in Starfleet, having been part of the small number who joined back when Ferasa was just a low level Federation Affiliate. Caitians had a lot of variance in their body types, with some emphasizing the more feline aspects and some hewing closer to the humanoid model. C'Nerow was the latter, and to Church's human aesthetics he looked rather handsome, almost like a dark-complexioned human man with car ears and a tail.
C'Nerow noticed Church's gaze and hefted his coffee cup reassuringly. One quirk of the Commander's that had become well-known among the crew was his taciturn nature. He rarely said two words when one would do, and he often substituted gestures where another person might use "go on" or other such verbal punctuations. It was considered particularly ironic since he wore a 'second hat' as the ship's senior communications officer, and there was an ongoing contest below decks to see how many words in a row someone could make him say.
There was a 'ding' from the Captain's PADD and she immediately rose to her feet. Captain T'Rinta had blond hair, a rarity for a Vulcan, but the rest of her appearance was matched the Vulcan stereotype, thin and tall. "Greetings. These meetings, which we will repeat every fifth day, will be used to personally brief senior staff on the state of your departments and any issues therein. I have scheduled us the forty minutes prior to official beginning of alpha watch, which I calculate to be sufficient time."
PADD in one hand, T'Rinta paced slightly as she talked, pausing to lock eyes with each member of her command staff. "I will begin by speaking some uncomfortable truths. As all of you should be aware, diplomatic relations between the Federation and the Cardassian Union are currently on a precipice. It is possible that our first mission may see us called into war. In a very real sense this ship was built because of fears of war, fears of having to face Cardassian Jaldun cruisers. That is what led Starfleet to revive the nearly obsolete Constitution design in order to have a war-capable light cruiser now rather than wait until the superior Renaissance design can enter regular production."
Church found himself flinching. He knew all of this, of course, but hearing Captain T'Rinta say it out loud hurt.
He must have been too obvious about it, because the Captain locked eyes with him and asked, "Does that distress you Mr. Church?"
He opted for honesty. "A little sir. I know you're correct."
T'Rinta nodded at him in what for a Vulcan was a gesture of extraordinary acknowledgment. "As I said, these are uncomfortable truths." She resumed her pacing. "The Defiant is a highly capable ship, and if the threat of war recedes, I look forward to putting that capability to many peaceful purposes that will benefit the Federation and the cause of exploration. I only ask that you as the senior staff keep in mind why this ship was produced and ensure that if called upon to defend the Federation, we stand ready."
There was a moment of silence. Then the Captain dropped into her seat at the head of the table. Leaning back, she lazily gestured towards Commander C'Nerow. "Commander, please begin in your capacity as head of the communications department."
Over the next half hour the various department heads briefed. Some of them Church knew well from the past year of training. Others he had been in only limited contact with. Captain T'Rinta had additional questions for some of the presenters, while others were allowed to speak their piece and sit down without interruption. Lieutenant Rekkon, the Vulcan Tactical Officer, seemed to flail a little when T'Rinta grilled him on status of the photon torpedo launchers. Rekkon was coming out of a more security-focused background, Church knew, and seemed more comfortable talking about personnel than weapon systems.
Probably the most involved stand up briefing was from Chief Petty Officer Franklin Monroe, a human who looked old enough to have served on the original Defiant. He was the senior-most enlisted rating on the ship and spoke disparagingly of the 'sloppiness' of the various able crewmen and petty officers he had to coordinate, promising in his clipped Vegan accent to 'retrain the lot of them now that we're in space proper'. Commander C'Nerow actually had to silence him with a 'cut it short' gesture when Captain T'Rinta seemed to lose interest.
Church's own turn went smoothly, with most of the discussion being about the necessity of coordinating between astrogation and stellar mapping department. Much of the space in the Sydraxian Border Zone was still under-explored, unlike the well-traveled Vulcan sector they were departing. Church could have given the talk in his sleep, having been responsible for stellar mapping on the Lion before his promotion. (The thought about what had happened to his old ship and the fate he had escaped by getting promoted off left him with a combination of guilt and relief.)
Overall, Lt. Commander Church left the meeting reassured. He had heard Captain T'Rinta was on the Explorer Corps board of captains, which had to mean she was pretty good. Still, you never really knew until you got to experience a new captain's style in person. With her being a Vulcan he had expected something more cerebral, but T'Rinta's manner was intense. She pushed her subordinates with pointed questions, trying to draw out problems so that solutions could be suggested.
Less than a minute's walking later the alpha watch bridge crew entered the bridge. There was a short, "Captain on the deck," from Lieutenant T'Lammas, the science officer.
Rather than taking command, though, T'Rinta gestured to Church. "You have the conn, Lt. Commander Church. Commander C'Nerow, a brief word in my ready room."
Probably going to review the results of the meeting while it was still fresh, thought Church. He hoped he hadn't come off too badly.
===
"I hope I created a positive perception," said T'Rinta as she took a seat across from C'Nerow.
The ready room was tiny, only two meters across and a little less than twice that in length. The original Constitution design hadn't featured one, and the redesign had only fit this one due to some reduction in volume of the main computers. It was suitable for a captain to do her paperwork and for a conversation with her first officer, but not much more than that. Cozy, thought Commander C'Nerow. He nodded in acknowledgement of the captain's statement while taking the opportunity to look around.
He'd seen the interior before, of course, but not since T'Rinta had taken command the day before. She had already moved some items in, decorating the small room. The screen on the left wall was set to show a pulsating pattern of light that he suspected mirrored that of the Defiant's warp core. On a shelf was what looked like an emergency kit, but bulkier than standard and made out of some sort of black metal. On the shelf below that a line of framed images that seemed to correspond to previous command posts T'Rinta had held, a sort of visual resume. His attention shot back to the captain when she began to speak again.
"Commanding a starship requires a different skill set than a ground command. As Deputy Director of the 40 Eridani A fleet yards, I could allow myself a certain amount of eccentricity. It was desirable, especially as second in command, to be viewed as approachable and accessible. As captain of this starship, the opposite is true. Maintaining the crew's confidence in my own abilities is paramount, a certain remoteness is preferable to accessibility, and eccentricity-" For some reason she paused a second and looked at what C'Nerow had assumed was an emergency kit. It was only for a moment. "-must wait. Do you agree, Commander?"
C'Nerow nodded. "Yes, Captain."
"Excellent. Then accessibility will be your job as first officer. However between the two of us, logic dictates a different relationship. Holding myself up as infallible to the crew may be psychologically necessary, but I will make mistakes. Your other job as first officer is to challenge me when you think I am making a mistake. Forcefully. Preferably in private, if time allows. I will endeavor to be receptive, and between the two of us we will guide the Defiant to success."
A response was clearly called for, and C'Nerow decided clarity was important. "I will. I would have even if you hadn't told me too."
"Indeed," replied T'Rinta with a lot of satisfaction communicated in the two syllables. "Then let us begin our partnership with a discussion of the meeting. Did you perceive any areas of concern?"
"Rekkon and Monroe."
===
Captain's Log, USS Defiant, Stardate 25000.3
Without the announcement of the Treaty of Celos, the threat of the Defiant being ordered into immediate combat has abated. This leaves open the question of the Defiant's long term assignment. Commodore Crogan will board the Defiant to discuss my orders personally.
"They took my ships!" raged Commodore Crogan, looking up at the ceiling of the meeting room as though pleading his case to the heavens.
"From the deployment plans I have seen, that is a common complaint for sector commodores," answered Captain T'Rinta. She took politely at attention with Commander C'Nerow, Lt. Commander Church, and Lieutenant Rekkon while the Commodore vented.
Crogan made a sound of disgust. "Accurate. Starfleet Command is pulling everything they can spare to throw at the Gabriel Expanse. There's hardly a sector left with more than two ships assigned to it, barring Sol and Vulcan sectors. And that's only because the Council wouldn't let them get away with less in those two commands." He waved a hand at the other officers. "Sit down. We need to talk this through."
They sat. Crogan continued to speak, calmer now. "I can see the logic in cutting down on other sectors, even the Cardassian border zone. After all if the Cardassians break their word there, it'll be war, and us with a massive fleet already gathered in the Gabriel Expanse right next to Cardassian space. That's fine. But what are they thinking here? They've dropped me from an Excelsior and three escorts down to the Defiant and the Eketha. Two ships to cover a line of space forty light years long. Do they not see the issue here?"
Rekkon spoke. "Sir, doesn't the Treaty of Celos ensure that an attack by the Sydraxians would equally be viewed as a violation and cause for war? Surely the same mechanics that allows us to draw down forces in the Cardassian Border Zone should hold true here."
Crogan sighed dramatically. "Well now we've set the tactical instincts of a lieutenant as the minimum bar for how someone in Starfleet Command screwed this up. Captain, make my day. Make me happy. Tell me you at least understand why this is a terrible idea."
"Pirates," said T'Rinta.
"Exactly. Exactly! You see what's going to happen; why can't they?" The Tellarite ran a hand through his hair and sighed again. "All right, I've had my rant and it was very satisfying. Now it's time to work with what we've got. Let's figure talk through the Defiant's patrol schedule and figure out how to keep the holes to a minimum. Most of the work is going to be on you; the Eketha will do its part, but it can't go as far or as fast. You can count on being first responder nearly always."
"Will you be commanding from the Defiant?" asked T'Rinta.
"Heh. Don't worry, I'm not going to clutter up with your ship. I'll be coordinating from Starbase 8, using its sensor suite and comms to manage your missions. Keep a cabin open for me, though, in case things change."
"Of course," said T'Rinta.
They spent couple of hours planning coverage, and then the Commodore departed to travel back to Vega aboard the Eketha while the Defiant set out on a spinwards patrol.
After he left, Rekkon asked, "Sir, can you explain my error? What did you mean by pirates? I know pirate activity has been a concern, but it has been relatively infrequent."
"Please explain,, Lt. Commander," said T'Rinta to Church.
A test, thought Church. Not a problem, though. He thought he understood. "Well Lieutenant, let's go back to the treaty. The Cardassians promised to restrain their affiliates from attacking Federation shipping. That means the Sydraxians. But there is a species very close by who are specifically not on the list of Cardassian affiliates."
"Yrillians," said Rekkon.
"Correct. Now the Sydraxians are not going to be happy having their leashes yanked by the Cardassians. They're going to want to continue their war against the Federation. But how do they do that? They can't attack themselves. So a solution presents itself. They go to the Yrillians and make an offer. Any Yrillian ship that attacks Federation shipping gets a safe harbor, free repair, and passage through their space. Hell, maybe they just pay them to do it. If the Federation complains, they point us at the Yrillian government. If we go to the Yrillians, they say that these are criminals and they're helpless to do anything about it.
"We've seen this game before, but the Sydraxians have every motive to ramp it up as much as they can. We can expect a flood of Yrillian pirates with as much deniable Sydraxian support as is still... well, deniable. Sure the Defiant or even the Eketha is certainly a match for any given pirate ship, but we can still only be in one place at a time. If three vessels push through at once in different locations along the border, we can only get two of them."
T'Rinta spoke. "In addition, shipping in Amarkia Sector is particularly vulnerable. The majority of the Confederacy Navy will be occupied either in Orion space or supporting the Gabriel Expanse claims. I fully understand Commodore Crogan's frustration with the tactical situation he has been handed."
Rekkon's face turned a little green. "I see. I apologize for my error with the Commodore."
"Don't apologize. Learn. We all learn," said Commander C'Nerow.
===
Personal Log - T'Rinta
As the Defiant departs on its first patrol of the Sydraxian Border Zone, I am evaluating my personal satisfaction with this assignment. The Defiant could easily have been one of the Constitution-Bs called to the Gabriel Expanse. Instead we patrol while the Korolev and the Saratoga go to war. Some might argue that it is in war that commanders distinguish themselves. Against that, I weigh the level of personal autonomy required of me as captain of the only cruiser in this sector. This is not the five year mission that I coveted, but the Defiant stands on the borders of the Federation. Encounters with new life, new civilizations, and variations on the infinite diversity of space remain a tantalizing possibility. In its way, the Defiant supports the primary mission of Starfleet. I rate my personal satisfaction with this assignment to be high.
Captain's Log, USS Defiant, Stardate 24974.8 – Captain T'Rinta
After being assessed complete by Commander Stolk, the Defiant has been ordered to immediately depart 40 Eridani A Shipyard and travel towards Klivvar Proxima in the Sydraxian Border Zone at High Alert cruising speeds. There we are to receive further orders from Commodore Crogan, commander of the Sydraxian Border Zone squadron.
The journey should take approximately 19.8 solar days. I plan to utilize this time to gain more familiarity with my new command. If ongoing political negotiations fail, I may shortly be leading this ship into battle.
Personal Log - T'Rinta
Though the majority of the crew has trained together for the past year, the Defiant is a newly constructed ship with no history of service. Precedents set in these first days may well continue to affect ship operations for many years and many captains to come. I consider this to be an opportunity.
===
Lt. Commander Hugo Church shifted in his seat nervously and took a sip of water. He took a glance at the Captain T'Rinta, but she was studiously ignoring everyone, studying a PADD and making the occasional note. Senior staff, which included Church as as alpha watch Helm Officer and Second Officer, had been called to the meeting room for a 'Stand Up Meeting'. According to the reoccurring appointment that had appeared on his calendar, T'Rinta planned to have them every five days.
Church looked around the room, his eyes alighting on Commander Hrell C'Nerow, the first officer. The Commander was a familiar sight, having been in charge for the past year as the crew trained to operate the Defiant. He was one of the most high-ranking Caitians in Starfleet, having been part of the small number who joined back when Ferasa was just a low level Federation Affiliate. Caitians had a lot of variance in their body types, with some emphasizing the more feline aspects and some hewing closer to the humanoid model. C'Nerow was the latter, and to Church's human aesthetics he looked rather handsome, almost like a dark-complexioned human man with car ears and a tail.
C'Nerow noticed Church's gaze and hefted his coffee cup reassuringly. One quirk of the Commander's that had become well-known among the crew was his taciturn nature. He rarely said two words when one would do, and he often substituted gestures where another person might use "go on" or other such verbal punctuations. It was considered particularly ironic since he wore a 'second hat' as the ship's senior communications officer, and there was an ongoing contest below decks to see how many words in a row someone could make him say.
There was a 'ding' from the Captain's PADD and she immediately rose to her feet. Captain T'Rinta had blond hair, a rarity for a Vulcan, but the rest of her appearance was matched the Vulcan stereotype, thin and tall. "Greetings. These meetings, which we will repeat every fifth day, will be used to personally brief senior staff on the state of your departments and any issues therein. I have scheduled us the forty minutes prior to official beginning of alpha watch, which I calculate to be sufficient time."
PADD in one hand, T'Rinta paced slightly as she talked, pausing to lock eyes with each member of her command staff. "I will begin by speaking some uncomfortable truths. As all of you should be aware, diplomatic relations between the Federation and the Cardassian Union are currently on a precipice. It is possible that our first mission may see us called into war. In a very real sense this ship was built because of fears of war, fears of having to face Cardassian Jaldun cruisers. That is what led Starfleet to revive the nearly obsolete Constitution design in order to have a war-capable light cruiser now rather than wait until the superior Renaissance design can enter regular production."
Church found himself flinching. He knew all of this, of course, but hearing Captain T'Rinta say it out loud hurt.
He must have been too obvious about it, because the Captain locked eyes with him and asked, "Does that distress you Mr. Church?"
He opted for honesty. "A little sir. I know you're correct."
T'Rinta nodded at him in what for a Vulcan was a gesture of extraordinary acknowledgment. "As I said, these are uncomfortable truths." She resumed her pacing. "The Defiant is a highly capable ship, and if the threat of war recedes, I look forward to putting that capability to many peaceful purposes that will benefit the Federation and the cause of exploration. I only ask that you as the senior staff keep in mind why this ship was produced and ensure that if called upon to defend the Federation, we stand ready."
There was a moment of silence. Then the Captain dropped into her seat at the head of the table. Leaning back, she lazily gestured towards Commander C'Nerow. "Commander, please begin in your capacity as head of the communications department."
Over the next half hour the various department heads briefed. Some of them Church knew well from the past year of training. Others he had been in only limited contact with. Captain T'Rinta had additional questions for some of the presenters, while others were allowed to speak their piece and sit down without interruption. Lieutenant Rekkon, the Vulcan Tactical Officer, seemed to flail a little when T'Rinta grilled him on status of the photon torpedo launchers. Rekkon was coming out of a more security-focused background, Church knew, and seemed more comfortable talking about personnel than weapon systems.
Probably the most involved stand up briefing was from Chief Petty Officer Franklin Monroe, a human who looked old enough to have served on the original Defiant. He was the senior-most enlisted rating on the ship and spoke disparagingly of the 'sloppiness' of the various able crewmen and petty officers he had to coordinate, promising in his clipped Vegan accent to 'retrain the lot of them now that we're in space proper'. Commander C'Nerow actually had to silence him with a 'cut it short' gesture when Captain T'Rinta seemed to lose interest.
Church's own turn went smoothly, with most of the discussion being about the necessity of coordinating between astrogation and stellar mapping department. Much of the space in the Sydraxian Border Zone was still under-explored, unlike the well-traveled Vulcan sector they were departing. Church could have given the talk in his sleep, having been responsible for stellar mapping on the Lion before his promotion. (The thought about what had happened to his old ship and the fate he had escaped by getting promoted off left him with a combination of guilt and relief.)
Overall, Lt. Commander Church left the meeting reassured. He had heard Captain T'Rinta was on the Explorer Corps board of captains, which had to mean she was pretty good. Still, you never really knew until you got to experience a new captain's style in person. With her being a Vulcan he had expected something more cerebral, but T'Rinta's manner was intense. She pushed her subordinates with pointed questions, trying to draw out problems so that solutions could be suggested.
Less than a minute's walking later the alpha watch bridge crew entered the bridge. There was a short, "Captain on the deck," from Lieutenant T'Lammas, the science officer.
Rather than taking command, though, T'Rinta gestured to Church. "You have the conn, Lt. Commander Church. Commander C'Nerow, a brief word in my ready room."
Probably going to review the results of the meeting while it was still fresh, thought Church. He hoped he hadn't come off too badly.
===
"I hope I created a positive perception," said T'Rinta as she took a seat across from C'Nerow.
The ready room was tiny, only two meters across and a little less than twice that in length. The original Constitution design hadn't featured one, and the redesign had only fit this one due to some reduction in volume of the main computers. It was suitable for a captain to do her paperwork and for a conversation with her first officer, but not much more than that. Cozy, thought Commander C'Nerow. He nodded in acknowledgement of the captain's statement while taking the opportunity to look around.
He'd seen the interior before, of course, but not since T'Rinta had taken command the day before. She had already moved some items in, decorating the small room. The screen on the left wall was set to show a pulsating pattern of light that he suspected mirrored that of the Defiant's warp core. On a shelf was what looked like an emergency kit, but bulkier than standard and made out of some sort of black metal. On the shelf below that a line of framed images that seemed to correspond to previous command posts T'Rinta had held, a sort of visual resume. His attention shot back to the captain when she began to speak again.
"Commanding a starship requires a different skill set than a ground command. As Deputy Director of the 40 Eridani A fleet yards, I could allow myself a certain amount of eccentricity. It was desirable, especially as second in command, to be viewed as approachable and accessible. As captain of this starship, the opposite is true. Maintaining the crew's confidence in my own abilities is paramount, a certain remoteness is preferable to accessibility, and eccentricity-" For some reason she paused a second and looked at what C'Nerow had assumed was an emergency kit. It was only for a moment. "-must wait. Do you agree, Commander?"
C'Nerow nodded. "Yes, Captain."
"Excellent. Then accessibility will be your job as first officer. However between the two of us, logic dictates a different relationship. Holding myself up as infallible to the crew may be psychologically necessary, but I will make mistakes. Your other job as first officer is to challenge me when you think I am making a mistake. Forcefully. Preferably in private, if time allows. I will endeavor to be receptive, and between the two of us we will guide the Defiant to success."
A response was clearly called for, and C'Nerow decided clarity was important. "I will. I would have even if you hadn't told me too."
"Indeed," replied T'Rinta with a lot of satisfaction communicated in the two syllables. "Then let us begin our partnership with a discussion of the meeting. Did you perceive any areas of concern?"
"Rekkon and Monroe."
===
Captain's Log, USS Defiant, Stardate 25000.3
Without the announcement of the Treaty of Celos, the threat of the Defiant being ordered into immediate combat has abated. This leaves open the question of the Defiant's long term assignment. Commodore Crogan will board the Defiant to discuss my orders personally.
"They took my ships!" raged Commodore Crogan, looking up at the ceiling of the meeting room as though pleading his case to the heavens.
"From the deployment plans I have seen, that is a common complaint for sector commodores," answered Captain T'Rinta. She took politely at attention with Commander C'Nerow, Lt. Commander Church, and Lieutenant Rekkon while the Commodore vented.
Crogan made a sound of disgust. "Accurate. Starfleet Command is pulling everything they can spare to throw at the Gabriel Expanse. There's hardly a sector left with more than two ships assigned to it, barring Sol and Vulcan sectors. And that's only because the Council wouldn't let them get away with less in those two commands." He waved a hand at the other officers. "Sit down. We need to talk this through."
They sat. Crogan continued to speak, calmer now. "I can see the logic in cutting down on other sectors, even the Cardassian border zone. After all if the Cardassians break their word there, it'll be war, and us with a massive fleet already gathered in the Gabriel Expanse right next to Cardassian space. That's fine. But what are they thinking here? They've dropped me from an Excelsior and three escorts down to the Defiant and the Eketha. Two ships to cover a line of space forty light years long. Do they not see the issue here?"
Rekkon spoke. "Sir, doesn't the Treaty of Celos ensure that an attack by the Sydraxians would equally be viewed as a violation and cause for war? Surely the same mechanics that allows us to draw down forces in the Cardassian Border Zone should hold true here."
Crogan sighed dramatically. "Well now we've set the tactical instincts of a lieutenant as the minimum bar for how someone in Starfleet Command screwed this up. Captain, make my day. Make me happy. Tell me you at least understand why this is a terrible idea."
"Pirates," said T'Rinta.
"Exactly. Exactly! You see what's going to happen; why can't they?" The Tellarite ran a hand through his hair and sighed again. "All right, I've had my rant and it was very satisfying. Now it's time to work with what we've got. Let's figure talk through the Defiant's patrol schedule and figure out how to keep the holes to a minimum. Most of the work is going to be on you; the Eketha will do its part, but it can't go as far or as fast. You can count on being first responder nearly always."
"Will you be commanding from the Defiant?" asked T'Rinta.
"Heh. Don't worry, I'm not going to clutter up with your ship. I'll be coordinating from Starbase 8, using its sensor suite and comms to manage your missions. Keep a cabin open for me, though, in case things change."
"Of course," said T'Rinta.
They spent couple of hours planning coverage, and then the Commodore departed to travel back to Vega aboard the Eketha while the Defiant set out on a spinwards patrol.
After he left, Rekkon asked, "Sir, can you explain my error? What did you mean by pirates? I know pirate activity has been a concern, but it has been relatively infrequent."
"Please explain,, Lt. Commander," said T'Rinta to Church.
A test, thought Church. Not a problem, though. He thought he understood. "Well Lieutenant, let's go back to the treaty. The Cardassians promised to restrain their affiliates from attacking Federation shipping. That means the Sydraxians. But there is a species very close by who are specifically not on the list of Cardassian affiliates."
"Yrillians," said Rekkon.
"Correct. Now the Sydraxians are not going to be happy having their leashes yanked by the Cardassians. They're going to want to continue their war against the Federation. But how do they do that? They can't attack themselves. So a solution presents itself. They go to the Yrillians and make an offer. Any Yrillian ship that attacks Federation shipping gets a safe harbor, free repair, and passage through their space. Hell, maybe they just pay them to do it. If the Federation complains, they point us at the Yrillian government. If we go to the Yrillians, they say that these are criminals and they're helpless to do anything about it.
"We've seen this game before, but the Sydraxians have every motive to ramp it up as much as they can. We can expect a flood of Yrillian pirates with as much deniable Sydraxian support as is still... well, deniable. Sure the Defiant or even the Eketha is certainly a match for any given pirate ship, but we can still only be in one place at a time. If three vessels push through at once in different locations along the border, we can only get two of them."
T'Rinta spoke. "In addition, shipping in Amarkia Sector is particularly vulnerable. The majority of the Confederacy Navy will be occupied either in Orion space or supporting the Gabriel Expanse claims. I fully understand Commodore Crogan's frustration with the tactical situation he has been handed."
Rekkon's face turned a little green. "I see. I apologize for my error with the Commodore."
"Don't apologize. Learn. We all learn," said Commander C'Nerow.
===
Personal Log - T'Rinta
As the Defiant departs on its first patrol of the Sydraxian Border Zone, I am evaluating my personal satisfaction with this assignment. The Defiant could easily have been one of the Constitution-Bs called to the Gabriel Expanse. Instead we patrol while the Korolev and the Saratoga go to war. Some might argue that it is in war that commanders distinguish themselves. Against that, I weigh the level of personal autonomy required of me as captain of the only cruiser in this sector. This is not the five year mission that I coveted, but the Defiant stands on the borders of the Federation. Encounters with new life, new civilizations, and variations on the infinite diversity of space remain a tantalizing possibility. In its way, the Defiant supports the primary mission of Starfleet. I rate my personal satisfaction with this assignment to be high.
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Technically we voted to sent the Valiant to the SBZ and the Defiant to the CBZ, but then we put the Defiant in the SBZ. So I'm indulging in a little retcon on that one since the opposite way around makes more sense.
T'Rinta is not always the best Surakian disciple. She doesn't reject logic, but she's not nearly as rigorous about eliminating every trace of emotion as more conservative Vulcans. I figure there has to be a range, just as there is for followers of any philosophy.
T'Rinta is not always the best Surakian disciple. She doesn't reject logic, but she's not nearly as rigorous about eliminating every trace of emotion as more conservative Vulcans. I figure there has to be a range, just as there is for followers of any philosophy.
- Location
- Australia
Swamped at work atm, doesn't seem too likely that I'll get a post out before I get home but we'll see.
Valiant and Defiant are two of a kind, if you really wanted their zone assignments swapped, it's not a huge deal?
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I probably was unclear. We actually put the Defiant in the SBZ and the Valiant in the CBZ in the fleet deployment vote, which I'm fine with and fits my purposes nicely. It's just what when we had that prior 'emergency' vote for where the Defiant and Valiant would be if war broke out, we had put the Defiant in the CBZ and the Valiant in the SBZ which seems weird given their final dispositions. So the recton was that the 'emergency' assignment was reversed and the Defiant sped to the SBZ when we were on the precipice of war.
I'm cool with the fleet deployment as voted on. Now to see if the SBZ actually rolls any events for the Defiant to respond too! (I hurried to get this out just in case you had rolled a SBZ event and were putting it in the third month of the quarter.)
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
Leslie:
"Most of the people who served on the Defiant back in my salad days wound up going crazy and murdering one another. Sounds like Chief Monroe'd fit right in."
[Note that Leslie transferred off Enterprise shortly prior to the events of The Tholian Web, and has no personal memories of that, or for that matter the last three quarters of Season Three in general.
]Aw thanks you remembered!
[Seriously, none of the Constitution bridges featured a ready room, so I figured it had to be a transitional addition in the Excelsiors to go with the much greater amount of space they have. But I needed Winslow to have one on the Lexington for plot reasons in my omake, so...
]The young Vulcan is blushing!
Is it true that the 'couch' option for the ready room can fold out into a daybed so the captain can sleep in there when red alert threatens but one must be well rested? if so, was it only made such because Jim Kirk is no longer around to move his quarters into the ready room?[Seriously, none of the Constitution bridges featured a ready room, so I figured it had to be a transitional addition in the Excelsiors to go with the much greater amount of space they have. But I needed Winslow to have one on the Lexington for plot reasons in my omake, so...
(I imagine there would be more than one possible configuration of fixtures in these ready-rooms despite their rather tiny wedged-in size, or perhaps because of it. You can get in order of Friendly to Confrontational, a couch, soft chairs, hard chairs, chairs that wobble and attempt to throw off the unwary, and no place for a guest to sit at all. And then there are desk and viewscreen options, and instrument repeaters so the captain can check the ship's status at a glance. Maybe even wall options-want transparent aluminum bulkheads so you can see the computer banks?)
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
Well, I did have Uhura remark that forcing Kirk to go down to his cabin to do paperwork was the only way they ever got him off the bridge without using a transporter, which isn't strictly true but probably comes close.
Well, you know the Captain's standing orders: No action scenes or close ups on the Bridge, unless the Captain is present.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
I think they're a bit frail by Klingon standards. A Rennie is tanky enough to be worth looking at by Klingon standards, barely, but not a ConnieBee.
Night
Widow Null
- Location
- Hoff
Should have commented earlier on this, but that's only half the reference. The other half is one of the guys I share an office with these days came out of the Marines, where he was in an intelligence billet. He still has a little desk sign that says "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Two knows." in reference to the intelligence staff position being standardized at -2.
It's also very much why we hired Linderley. What evil lurks in the hearts of Cardassians? Meh. We care about counterintel.
- Location
- Patriarchova
"You honor us, Starfleet. As a show of our appreciation, let us gift you in turn with these mighty vessels of our owfffahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
Hey, that sales pitch worked on the Romulans.
[Goes back to statting up TOS and pre-TOS ships for the 2235 game idea]
[Goes back to statting up TOS and pre-TOS ships for the 2235 game idea]
- Location
- madison
I still have my head cannon they made that deal because one side needed the ships to win a civil war after both sides lost almost all their fleet assets. Either that or there was some massive plot where step one was to let the star empire be coned, and then step 2 fell though because the plan was too complex to actually work.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
My headcanon is that the Romulans squinted at the ship, frowned, and grudgingly concluded that it was passable, except that the Klingons had been excessively concerned with creature comforts and survivability, and hadn't given the design adequate firepower.
The Klingon and Romulan D-7s I've got in my spreadsheet of design ideas are statted accordingly.
The Klingon and Romulan D-7s I've got in my spreadsheet of design ideas are statted accordingly.
- Location
- Australia
Klingon sales executives are warriors in the fight against poor sales. Extremely determined people; just pray their cold calls don't turn hot.
Omake - Back From Retirement - Leila Hann
- Location
- Patriarchova
Omake: Back from Retirement (pt 2)
(part one)
Penelya opened her eyes. Her hands were bound behind her back by a set of magnetic cuffs, and she was sharing a holding cell with three huge, scaly Rigelians, leaving her barely enough room to breathe or let alone move. This was only to be expected, however, and the fact that she had awakened at all was proof that she hadn't been betrayed. To a well disciplined mind, mere physical discomfort was immaterial. Closing her eyes again, she recalled Aledla's words with a wry smile. Penelope, you really are bad at being a tourist.
The back of the cargo bay was packed with cheap livestock-holding cells like hers, while the rest was full of as many crates of luxury goods from the freighter as the Orions could beam over in a reasonable timeframe. In well-trafficked regions of space, she knew, it was considered too risky to capture the freighters themselves; the slow moving ships would be unlikely to escape the scene of the crime before Starfleet or Rigel Space Patrol arrived. Standing in front of the heap, an Orion male and female conversed in low, guttural whispers. They each carried a phaser rifle loosely at their sides, and had what looked like neural truncheons hanging from their utility belts. She didn't have her tricorder, but by the looks of them they didn't have anywhere near the same cybernetic loadout; probably a pair of fresh morls who couldn't afford it yet.
Just as her well-disciplined mind was starting to question the series of decisions that had let it here, she heard the sound of a door swishing open, and Senmursh's loud voice booming across the bay. The guards immediately turned toward it, holding their phasers higher and affecting sterner expressions.
"At ease. Let me have a better look at these savages now that they're all hanging in a row."
Penelya nudged her shoulder into the tall, scaly body on her left. "Be ready, Captain."
The Rigellian opened his beaklike mouth just a crack. "I can hear, Miranstein."
Senmursh led the other two to the cell next to theirs, towering over even the other male with his vast shoulders and slablike build. At this distance, Penelya could see how his left hand was hanging limp; the ship's physician hadn't had time to properly repair the fingerbones she'd worked her magic on. He was doing an admirable job of hiding it.
"Aha!" Senmursh grinned, pointing with his good hand at another cell. "Here's the one I was looking for. Andorians are a rare catch these days, and worth a pretty penny to some Cardassians. A pretty penny more to not let their comrades find out." They sniggered. Despite her immaculate mental discipline, Penelya felt some extra blood rushing to her face.
"Say, what do you make of that tall one?" Senmursh pointed at the final cell to the left. The other two stepped out of Penelya's field of vision, putting their backs to him. Slowly, biting his lip so hard Penelya suspected he would draw blood, he raised his wounded left hand toward them and, with a pained breath, flexed his wrist. A rain of nanoblade flechettes erupted from his massive wrist. Wet droplets appeared across his emerald face and armored chest. An instant later, the force fields flickered out.
"Well executed," Penelya allowed as she easily pulled the magnetic cuffs apart. Beside her, Captain Liir had come to life and was breaking out of his as well, as were the half dozen security personnel in the other cells. "Would you mind handing me one of those phasers?"
"You'll have to use your own two hands. Sorry." Senmursh used his only functional one to draw a disruptor pistol.
Penelya couldn't help but smirk at that. "Of course." She strode out into the cargo bay and pried one of the rifles from the mutilated, blade-ridden corpse of its former owner. "Would I be correct in inferring that this corsair was refitted to the Moshor's Revenge configuration?"
"You would," said Senmursh.
"Why do you know so much about Orion pirate ships?" Captain Liir eyed her suspiciously.
"I've led a colorful life. Engine room is a deck above us, manual life support controls should be accessible from there. You two," she barked at a pair of Rigelian crewmen, "grab those truncheons and come with me. Senmursh?"
Senmursh nodded. "You come with me," he motioned his disrupter at the only Orion among the freighter crew, "we've got a Magren to kill."
(part one)
Penelya opened her eyes. Her hands were bound behind her back by a set of magnetic cuffs, and she was sharing a holding cell with three huge, scaly Rigelians, leaving her barely enough room to breathe or let alone move. This was only to be expected, however, and the fact that she had awakened at all was proof that she hadn't been betrayed. To a well disciplined mind, mere physical discomfort was immaterial. Closing her eyes again, she recalled Aledla's words with a wry smile. Penelope, you really are bad at being a tourist.
The back of the cargo bay was packed with cheap livestock-holding cells like hers, while the rest was full of as many crates of luxury goods from the freighter as the Orions could beam over in a reasonable timeframe. In well-trafficked regions of space, she knew, it was considered too risky to capture the freighters themselves; the slow moving ships would be unlikely to escape the scene of the crime before Starfleet or Rigel Space Patrol arrived. Standing in front of the heap, an Orion male and female conversed in low, guttural whispers. They each carried a phaser rifle loosely at their sides, and had what looked like neural truncheons hanging from their utility belts. She didn't have her tricorder, but by the looks of them they didn't have anywhere near the same cybernetic loadout; probably a pair of fresh morls who couldn't afford it yet.
Just as her well-disciplined mind was starting to question the series of decisions that had let it here, she heard the sound of a door swishing open, and Senmursh's loud voice booming across the bay. The guards immediately turned toward it, holding their phasers higher and affecting sterner expressions.
"At ease. Let me have a better look at these savages now that they're all hanging in a row."
Penelya nudged her shoulder into the tall, scaly body on her left. "Be ready, Captain."
The Rigellian opened his beaklike mouth just a crack. "I can hear, Miranstein."
Senmursh led the other two to the cell next to theirs, towering over even the other male with his vast shoulders and slablike build. At this distance, Penelya could see how his left hand was hanging limp; the ship's physician hadn't had time to properly repair the fingerbones she'd worked her magic on. He was doing an admirable job of hiding it.
"Aha!" Senmursh grinned, pointing with his good hand at another cell. "Here's the one I was looking for. Andorians are a rare catch these days, and worth a pretty penny to some Cardassians. A pretty penny more to not let their comrades find out." They sniggered. Despite her immaculate mental discipline, Penelya felt some extra blood rushing to her face.
"Say, what do you make of that tall one?" Senmursh pointed at the final cell to the left. The other two stepped out of Penelya's field of vision, putting their backs to him. Slowly, biting his lip so hard Penelya suspected he would draw blood, he raised his wounded left hand toward them and, with a pained breath, flexed his wrist. A rain of nanoblade flechettes erupted from his massive wrist. Wet droplets appeared across his emerald face and armored chest. An instant later, the force fields flickered out.
"Well executed," Penelya allowed as she easily pulled the magnetic cuffs apart. Beside her, Captain Liir had come to life and was breaking out of his as well, as were the half dozen security personnel in the other cells. "Would you mind handing me one of those phasers?"
"You'll have to use your own two hands. Sorry." Senmursh used his only functional one to draw a disruptor pistol.
Penelya couldn't help but smirk at that. "Of course." She strode out into the cargo bay and pried one of the rifles from the mutilated, blade-ridden corpse of its former owner. "Would I be correct in inferring that this corsair was refitted to the Moshor's Revenge configuration?"
"You would," said Senmursh.
"Why do you know so much about Orion pirate ships?" Captain Liir eyed her suspiciously.
"I've led a colorful life. Engine room is a deck above us, manual life support controls should be accessible from there. You two," she barked at a pair of Rigelian crewmen, "grab those truncheons and come with me. Senmursh?"
Senmursh nodded. "You come with me," he motioned his disrupter at the only Orion among the freighter crew, "we've got a Magren to kill."
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