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To Boldly Go... (a Starfleet quest)

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Omake - Sol at Last - AKuz
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    • A/N said:
    Partially a way to pay tribute to the Archer that clearly actually existed and not "Duchess"
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    Sol At Last



    Stardate 25301

    Romulan Senator Siennae Velal watches a tactical display with great interest as the gently shaded area representing deep space ends and the IRW Devoras enters the Sol system.

    The old woman chuckles quietly to herself.

    Admiral Velim raises an eyebrow slightly as she stands next to the old woman.

    "The look on that Human Captain's face," The Senator chuckles, "The Captain of 'Hawking.' It reminds me of another human from the Earth War." She grins at the distant memory, "He was so surprised. He thought we were Vulcans," she shrugs, old bones shifting with mild complaint, "He didn't get to go home with that knowledge. I almost feel bad that I never followed up with the Tal Shiar about what happened to him and his crew."

    Velal throws a hand up dismissively, "Ancient history now. But..." she smiles, "He told me that I would never set a single foot in Sol."

    Velim raises a carefully sculpted eyebrow in amusement, "This is probably not the way either of you imagined that it would happen."

    "No. Almost certainly not. When I was young I dreamed of finally destroying Enterprise and parading her broken hull through the streets of whatever the Human Capital was." She smiles at her youthful naivete, "Then I imagined I would take a side trip to stroll through the devastated streets of ShiKahr." She sighs with a wistful smile, "What simpler times those were!"

    Admiral Velim had had similar dreams to the Senator. Most Romulan officers did at some point. Though probably not dreams with the same intensity of the Romulans of Siennae Velal's generation who had actually come close to accomplishing those dreams.

    "Admiral," says SubCommander S'anra Velal to her superior as she steps quickly up the ramp to the commander's walk at the rear of Devoras' bridge, "Senator," she says to her grandmother with a deferential nod and slight bow. "We have received instruction from Sol Traffic Control. We have been directed into a parking orbit around Sol IV."

    "Earth is Sol III, yes?" asks the old woman, "And Sol IV is… Mars?"

    "Yes, Ma'am," says the younger Velal, head bobbing quickly and nervously, "Commander Xon wanted me to tell you that he and Centurion tr'Sekar are personally handling our approach to Sol IV."

    "Captain Ka'Sharren didn't accidentally crash Enterprise into Rihan. I think it's a good idea that we return that favour." Admiral Velim turns several memories over in head for a long moment. Wondering if the Andorian woman would be in Sol to greet her. Probably not, sadly.

    "Ah." SubCommander Velal takes a deep breath, "There is something else that Centurion Ran noticed and should be coming into view soon…"

    The viewscreen of Devoras shifts as her helmsman brings the heavy warbird down into orbit. There is a hive of activity at the edge of visual range just coming up over the horizon.

    "Utopia Planitia," says the Subcommander as she enhances the visuals to bring the distant activity up close.

    The elderly Senator shakes her head in amusement, "What I wouldn't have given to see this bared throat during The War." There is the hint of a predatory glint in her eye. "Here all we would have had to do was ask..."

    Those predatory eyes carefully study the Human shipyard. Three of the skeletal Federation berths cradle the elongated and graceful forms of E-Type BattleCruisers. Smaller berths house two of the older and smaller, saucer only destroyers. And yet another Berth houses…

    "USS Renaissance NX-2600: designated "G-Type" by the Tal Shiar," the younger Velal recites from memory, "Slightly higher survivability than our own Daljerra class."

    "That's quite the power move," says Velim, crossing and uncrossing her arms.

    "Indeed!" says the Elder Velal, "If Tal Shiar briefs are correct," says the elderly Intelligence Committee Chairwoman, "Mars was a Human god of War. Very provocative."

    As the Devoras' settles into her orbit, Commander Xon takes a step back from the helm position and looks up towards the rear of the Bridge, "Admiral. Senator." He straightens up with an audible heel click into a respectful posture, "We have achieved a stable orbit around Sol IV"

    "Thank You Commander. Good Work," says Admiral Velim as beside her the elderly Senator sinks into deep thought, "I will inform the other Senators that we have arrived"

    Putting the Devoras into orbit of a major shipyard? A shipyard around a world named after a god of war? And a god of war from the same culture that the Humans had drawn from to label the Rihannsu themselves? It was a very efficient and very subtle move. Warning and welcome and understated pride all at once. Senator Siennae Velal begins to suspect that she's going to enjoy herself.

    ---------------------------

    If anyone in the Romulan Senate and especially the Senate's Continuing Committee can be considered expendable it is the men and women who have come to Sol.

    The Romulans take the negotiations to establish a non-aggression treaty very seriously. Seriously enough that they have dispatched the highest levels of government to negotiate. To make sure that the interests of the Rihannsu are being well represented.

    On the other hand they wouldn't be Romulans if they didn't consider the possibility of the negotiations suddenly turning violent. The Romulans have thus planned accordingly, many Senators are at the end of long careers or have reputations for highly Honourable conduct. Replaceable and Important people who would rather die than be taken alive.

    Presumably if the Federation Diplomats are aware that the Romulans across the table are ready to die if necessary they have the good tact to not comment on it.

    Which is not to say that every Romulan was chosen for expendability, Admiral Velim has a history of co-operation with Starfleet and a dry wit that manages to always keep Federation diplomats just off center.

    Velim's dry observation that Starfleet had taken a lesson in Romulan fashion by adding cloaks to their dress uniforms had let the Romulan diplomatic team lead off with the initiative on the first day of negotiations.

    Days of minutia pass without great incident despite Admiral Linderly's constantly increasing blood pressure. There is a growing suspicion in Starfleet Intelligence that some of the Romulan negotiators are acting in a cryptic and suspicious manner specifically to give the paranoid Starfleet Admiral a heart attack.

    For their part the same mischievous Romulans insist that they harbour a great deal of affection for a man who mirrors the Romulan mindset so closely and could never hold ill will in their hearts for dear Linderly.

    Hearing this has, of course, increased Admiral Linderly's blood pressure tenfold all on its own.

    The Romulan delegation's time on Mars actually passes fairly smoothly.

    In fact, to the surprise of only the Romulans themselves, most of the trouble is from curious onlookers and Sol locals who repeatedly try to meet and interact with the Romulans. Over a century and a half of constant mystery is enough to pique the curiosity of any being and Humans are driven by curiosity more than most species. Especially since Devoras has not allowed shore leave in Sol for her crew.

    If the Romulans are amused or enraged at being treated as exotic curiosities to be sought out they don't show it and Starfleet security has been good enough that they aren't forced to acknowledge the curious crowds.

    Then most surprising (And Linderly heart rate increasing) event happens at the end of the week; when one of the Romulan Senators responds to a Human Diplomat's polite nothing with, "Yes - there is something else." The old Romulan woman then pauses with deliberate drama to draw the moment out before she asks her question: "Where is Jonathan Archer buried?"

    ---------------------------

    Siennae Velal draws her cloak tighter around her as she takes another breath in the unreasonably cold temperature of Earth's North American Prefecture. Somewhere in 'Upper New York' to be specific.

    Siennae waves off another offer from her granddaughter to give her the younger woman's own cloak. Siennae can certainly feel the cold seeping into the gaps between her bones where the cartilage used to be decades ago; but there is a prideful part of her that doesn't want to admit any weakness. Especially not right now.

    "It is just up ahead," says her lead minder, some Human man, a 'host' from the Federation Diplomatic Service. She is also accompanied by an armed Starfleet officer "For her own safety."

    The old woman's boots stop crunching over the cold gravel path as the quartet come around a corner in the trail and into a clearing surrounding a low, grey, monument.

    Siennae Velal starts moving again after a moment, ignoring a sense of trepidation as she approaches the memorial, stepping off the gravel path and onto grass. She ignores the brief flash of incredulity at her brazenness from the Starfleet officer, as her granddaughter helps her kneel down on the grass in from of the cold grey stone.

    The Romulan Senator carefully reads the letters etched into a metal plaque affixed to the monument:
    Here Lies Jonathan Archer:

    Officer, Captain, Explorer, Diplomat, Hero

    2112-2244

    "Just beyond the next planet, just beyond the next star …"
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    "Hello, Captain Archer." Says the elderly Romulan as she sets a hand on the Federation hero's grave, "We've never met face to face. But we have met," she looks up into the blue Terran sky, "You tried to kill me actually." She gives a short amused snort, "Considering that I was trying to do the same to you I can't say that I blame you."

    The ancient Senator pauses to organize her thoughts, "We fought several times actually. The last time was shortly before the Battle of Cheron."

    "You never knew that system as Rator. I've actually never bothered myself to look up the Human designation." The Romulan flicks her hand to toss the tangent aside, "Enterprise and a task force were chasing one of our vessels. Perhaps in another fruitless attempt to capture a Romulan crew. It was, of course, a trap. A very well prepared one if I do say so myself." Velal smiles to herself. "We destroyed both of your escorts."

    The smile fades slightly, "And you destroyed both of ours" The Senator shifts slightly on the frosty grass, "I had actually managed to badly scour part of your primary hull when you somehow shot out my lateral sensor array and stayed inside the dead zone long enough to thoroughly wreck my vessel. Killed my first husband too by the way." She chuckles, "Thank you -Political marriage to a dull coward didn't suit me."

    S'anra Velal stands at attention behind her grandmother, with hands behind her back holding a large black case, face carefully blank. She doesn't say or feel anything, while it is her biological grandfather being insulted, but the man she really considers her grandfather died peacefully twenty years ago in his bed.

    "The battle was a deadly and uncertain stalemate. On Enterprise you fell back out of the system, and I fell down into Rator's gravity well. Came down in a deep forest valley somewhere in the equator. Thirty crew left, no supplies, found out I was newly pregnant during the post-crash medical check-up. Decided to keep the child"

    The Senator notices, but doesn't care, that both the Starfleet officer and the Federation Diplomat have stepped up to edge of ear shot and are listening to the story themselves. It's fine, this is a story that many Romulans have heard before, it's about time that a Human heard it.

    "We burned out the husk of the ship and left the area. We had no idea if you Humans would come back or if the war would be won or lost. What I did know was that there was a hidden unmanned listening post built into a desert in the southern hemisphere." the old woman pauses for a moment, "There is a much longer version of this story… but it took me almost a year and a half in your time to find that place. Lost half my remaining crew. Had my first daughter." the woman shrugs heavily, "Found out that you won the battle of Cheron a few months before. Found out that thanks to your diplomacy and new allies the war was over and all our struggles had seen little success and the military stalemate became a permanent border on the map."

    The old woman shakes her head, "I could have blamed you. But. But I can't curse you for serving your people." She pats the plaque, "I should thank you actually. Thanks to you I missed the Battle at Cheron. Instead of being part of a great defeat my part in the war was a well fought draw and a heroic survival story. It was good for my family." The Senator reaches up to take the arm of her granddaughter. "In a way I owe my position to you," she says as she stands up.

    "S'anra," says the elder Velal with a significant nod.

    "Yes, ma'am, I have it here." Says the granddaughter as she brings the case around in front of her on the ground and leans down to open it.

    The Starfleet minder watches carefully as the younger Romulan pulls out a bottle of blue Romulan Ale and hands it carefully to her grandmother.

    "Rator ended up on our Side of the Neutral Zone. I returned three years later. Built an estate overlooking that damned valley and my dead ship. To show the universe that I am a survivor and a victor." She shuffles forward and carefully places a bottle in front of the grave, "We make Kalifel there during the long summers."

    The Romulan pats the gravestone one last time, "You are the only man who has ever drawn equal with me in combat, we both rose to the pinnacle of our respective governments, and though I survived you -that is a matter of biology and not will. I will probably die at the same relative age as you." The Romulan matriarch takes a step back and straightens up before throwing a crisp Romulan salute.

    The Romulan turns to leave and waves the Diplomat back over, "I am ready to return to Mars now." Her face crinkles in amusement as the Human nods, "Just don't think this means that I won't be doing my duty during negotiations!"
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Iron Wolf said:
    I'm sure we'll get a ship design that could possibly be the New Orleans. It'll be convincing the SDB to name it that way but it might be worth it to just exercise GM powers in that case :V
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    Could we not call it "New Orleans"? Like that is absurdly Humanocentric, triply so for TBG. Using the visual design is fine, but let's not randomly name this after a Human city.
     
    That... was definitely a 'yay' piece.

    [holds up YAY sign]

    AKuz said:
    Could we not call it "New Orleans"? Like that is absurdly Humanocentric, triply so for TBG. Using the visual design is fine, but let's not randomly name this after a Human city.
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    We could pick random cities from all over the Federation and just have the first one be the city of New Orleans.

    Then, like, literally every other escort of the class is named after some non-human port city. I think that'd be fair.
     
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    Omake - Long Lost - Night
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    • I've had variants of this omake in the works since the vote about what fleet we wanted to deploy. Need to kick it out before it dies, so.

    Long-Lost

    It was rare to see a Cybaug drinking. This had something to do with the fact that it was a bit rare to see Cybaugs at all these days, as the Syndicate-affiliated ones kept their heads down. The parties might posture, but that was distant. So, in most cases, was Starfleet's intervention, though that was much thought about. The proof to most people that the Syndicate was in trouble was when their heavies stopped acting like heavies.

    But mostly it was rare to see a Cybaug drinking because Cybaugs usually had a half-dozen implants intended to protect them from poisons and drugs; only powerful and insidious things that worked through the skin, like nerve gasses or anethestizine, worked on most Cybaugs. This made getting buzzed, much less edge-of-alcohol-poisoning drunk, quite impossible. The average Cybaug could mainline grain alcohol through an IV and do Romulan Ale shots at the same time and be left only with an urgent need to urinate.

    It was a cruel irony the Cybaug at the bar decided. The Syndicate encouraged him to be ruthless, but also loyal, and so it could not afford to smother his conscience whole. For Shodar and Country he had done much he would like to forget. And yet even the simplest of pleasures, open to even the most gutter-trash of Orions, that of getting absolutely falling-down drunk on cheap booze and forgetting his burdens...was denied to him. The price of success. The price of survival; the two were deeply intertwined.

    "It's not going to work," he mumbled to himself, and then waved to the bartender. "Another bottle."

    "Neither is that." The voice speaks Orion. It is not translated. The accent is impossibly upper-class. Each Hypercorp is a world, a lifestyle, unto itself, an even has their own unique accent to distinguish them. This one was Keilani Cybernetics Combine. Their Syndicate shodar was a long-term enemy of his own.

    He turns, coming off the stool like a striking snake, but the arm is caught by a hand even larger than his. Numbly his eyes trace from fingers to body; not a Vulcan, the only species that should match him for strength. Rigellian. Impossible. "Shall I repeat myself?" asks the newcomer. No, the accent is not perfectly KCC, but the difference is minor. Likely to fool all but highly enhanced ears. Or perhaps learned later in life.

    "No." He didn't try to withdraw his hand from their grip. "While outsourcing has been rather common as a cause of death lately-"

    "You think I'm here to kill you?" The Rigellian seemed amused. "You Syndicate types. As paranoid as a Vulcan told there's a fluffy-puffy about. I'm from Keilani Cybernetics of Rigel, and I have a job offer for you."

    Of Rigel. Of-He scanned the Rigellian up and down, looking for any obvious signs of cyber augmentation. Orion cybernetics were externally visible for intimidation as much as they were for any other purpose, considering the majority of the users were, if not actually part of the Syndicate, at least Syndicate-affiliated. And the Syndicate had been driving their development for at least the last fifty years. He didn't know a thing about Rigellians and cybernetics. "You know I'd have trouble quitting my current employment."

    The Rigellian released his arm. "Their arms are getting shorter all the time. Didn't even show up to the Constitutional Convention. And their reach was never long in Rigel." The Rigellian almost sneered, which was a weird look on that species. "Had to deal with a couple of 'em shouting about the Orion Empire earlier. Three of my family died trying to stop the Hurq, and some guttersnipes who don't even know who their mothers were want to tell me about the Orion Empire. Look, you're in here trying to get shitfaced drunk because your house is coming down and you don't see a way out." The Rigellian tapped his own chest. "Way out. Right here."

    He drew back his arm, slowly. No sudden moves. Cybaug etiquette is a lot like trying not to get shot unnecessarily for good reason. "Gonna need more than that."

    "Word is you have some of the newest and the best augs available. Now Rigel, it isn't a thing in Rigel. There are easier ways to make a living then getting combat augs. But correcting birth defects, repairing injuries. Hostile environment adaptions for the dedicated explorer. Military augs for Cypher Force." The Rigellian equivalent to the Aerocommandos. "You have what's probably going to be one of the last good sets of cybaugs that's going to be built in Orion space for a long time. You spend three months being scanned until you can't stand to hold still anymore. New identity, new job. Corporate security or the fleet or even Cypher if you can pass the entry. Pile of credits about as tall as you are too." The Rigellian held out a hand with a transponder for transport. "Just take it and you're out of here."

    "You forgot snitching." A deep grimace.

    "You don't have to tell us a thing about the Syndicate. Because we don't care. And soon nobody else will either." The Rigellian made an airy wave with their other hand.

    "In a couple years you might be right." The grimace deepened, and he reached out and took the transponder. "I'm in."

    "You're also out. Welcome home, brother." A communicator was produced from somewhere. "Two to beam up."
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  • Threadmarks
    • you know, I kind of wonder if the federation might let up some on its stance towards argumentation. From what I can tell the original 5 picked up humanity's distaste for genetic augmenation to an extent, but I don't think any other species did. I can't see the gani being anything but enthusiastically for it, we know the orions already make heavy us of it. That's not even touching on cybernetic argumentation, which seems more common. Low level argumentation for small boosts and to eliminate defects might actually start becoming the norm, with humans considered odd for opting out.

    As for cybernetic augmentation, we might actually start seeing options for survivability implants for crew. Minor implants can have major benefits without negatively impacting quality of life if well designed. Hell they could make life more pleasant for species with comfort zones wildly out of step with the norm, I imagine desert dwellers would be a lot more comfortable in Starfleet with implants that let them tolerate colder temperatures. Mechincally this would probably be spending resources and resarch for either better crew survival, or bonus recruits since more people are willing to serve when they don't have to put up with being uncomfortable all the time with the federations default life support settings.
     
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    ok heavy mental augmentation is likely to remain banned. But the onions have used low to medium levels of argumentation or less safely fo a long time. They had issues, but it was not because their aguments were crazy.
     
    The flip side of that is that they may have spent something like two thousand years experimenting with genetic augmentation in order to get it right. They may have had real trouble with berserk or megalomaniacal augments back in the old imperial days, or in pre-imperial times, but the sheer amount of time that's passed has finally given them the opportunity to perfect their augmentation techniques- although they appear to have focused on modifications that don't affect the germ line, or everyone would have them by now and there would be no such thing as "dirtbait" with significantly lower-level augmentation than the bulk of the elite has. Not after so many centuries of genetic mixing.

    Given the track record of Star Trek, it's entirely possible that you just can't do serious augmentation research without creating a fair number of dysfunctional or dangerous beings. The exact nature of the danger may vary, but that doesn't mean you can entirely avoid it, or that research done to make safe augmentations for one species will transfer safely to another.
     
    It's quite possible that Orion cyber augments who have anything touching their brain are just as liable to go crazy a mentat, only in a different way. The body is a series of massively interlinked systems that are also heavily crosswired and even right now in the present day there is a serious concern that we may have found and pulled all the easy levers to manipulate it already. And even Orion cyber augments are very much half-steps; they have an awful lot of fleshy bits left and it's not for quality of life reasons. We don't have brains in armored monstrosities that can plow through duranium bulkheads like tinfoil; they don't even seem to have reached the point where they can do a full skeletal replacement. And a full skeletal replacement is really the first step to achieving seriously superhuman capabilities at all.

    Now, of the various augmentation schemes in Trek, cybernetics seems to be far and away the safest (witness Geordi), but even the Orions, the acknowledged masters of the trade and with a couple thousand extra years to practice, haven't gotten that far with it. The problem appears to be quite difficult.
     
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    OneirosTheWriter said:
    Okay, vote is closed!
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    Vote Tally : Sci-Fi - To Boldly Go... (a Starfleet quest) | Page 1385 | Sufficient Velocity
    ##### NetTally 1.7.4

    Task: FYM1

    [X][FYM1] USS S'harien Captain T'Rinta
    No. of Votes: 33
    Muer'ci
    aeqnai
    AKuz
    AlphaDelta
    anon_user
    Artemis1992
    Ato
    Briefvoice
    Chaos Blade
    DarknessSmiles
    fitzgerald
    Gingganz
    Happerry
    Japanime
    JesseJ
    Joshrand1982
    Kaze
    KnightDisciple
    Leila Hann
    Mr Tebbs
    Nervos Belli
    Night
    NullVoid
    pheonix89
    Questara
    Raron
    Shard
    Simon_Jester
    tryrar
    UbeOne
    UberJJK
    Void Stalker
    Yeangst

    [X][FYM1] USS S'harien Captain Demora Sulu
    No. of Votes: 3
    SynchronizedWritersBlock
    chriswriter90
    Random Member


    Task: FYM2

    [X][FYM2] USS Atuin Captain Vol Chad
    No. of Votes: 30
    Muer'ci
    Aeondrac
    AKuz
    AlphaDelta
    anon_user
    Ato
    Briefvoice
    Chaos Blade
    fitzgerald
    Japanime
    JesseJ
    Joshrand1982
    Kaze
    KnightDisciple
    Leila Hann
    Mr Tebbs
    Nervos Belli
    Night
    NullVoid
    pheonix89
    Random Member
    Raron
    Shard
    Simon_Jester
    SynchronizedWritersBlock
    tryrar
    UbeOne
    UberJJK
    Void Stalker
    Yeangst

    [X][FYM2] USS Atuin Captain Demora Sulu
    No. of Votes: 6
    Artemis1992
    aeqnai
    Gingganz
    Katsuragi
    pbluekan
    Questara

    [X][FYM2] USS Atuin Captain Samyr Kanil
    No. of Votes: 3
    DarknessSmiles
    chriswriter90
    Happerry

    Total No. of Voters: 39


    As predicted there was basically no change (1 vote) from 7 hours ago:
    UberJJK said:
    Somehow I just don't see the results changing much in the next seven hours:
    Vote Tally : Sci-Fi - To Boldly Go... (a Starfleet quest) | Page 1385 | Sufficient Velocity
    ##### NetTally 1.7.4

    Task: FYM1

    [X][FYM1] USS S'harien Captain T'Rinta
    No. of Votes: 32
    Muer'ci
    aeqnai
    AKuz
    AlphaDelta
    anon_user
    Artemis1992
    Ato
    Briefvoice
    Chaos Blade
    DarknessSmiles
    fitzgerald
    Gingganz
    Happerry
    Japanime
    JesseJ
    Joshrand1982
    Kaze
    KnightDisciple
    Leila Hann
    Mr Tebbs
    Nervos Belli
    Night
    NullVoid
    pheonix89
    Raron
    Shard
    Simon_Jester
    tryrar
    UbeOne
    UberJJK
    Void Stalker
    Yeangst

    [X][FYM1] USS S'harien Captain Demora Sulu
    No. of Votes: 3
    SynchronizedWritersBlock
    chriswriter90
    Random Member


    Task: FYM2

    [X][FYM2] USS Atuin Captain Vol Chad
    No. of Votes: 30
    Muer'ci
    Aeondrac
    AKuz
    AlphaDelta
    anon_user
    Ato
    Briefvoice
    Chaos Blade
    fitzgerald
    Japanime
    JesseJ
    Joshrand1982
    Kaze
    KnightDisciple
    Leila Hann
    Mr Tebbs
    Nervos Belli
    Night
    NullVoid
    pheonix89
    Random Member
    Raron
    Shard
    Simon_Jester
    SynchronizedWritersBlock
    tryrar
    UbeOne
    UberJJK
    Void Stalker
    Yeangst

    [X][FYM2] USS Atuin Captain Demora Sulu
    No. of Votes: 5
    Artemis1992
    aeqnai
    Gingganz
    Katsuragi
    pbluekan

    [X][FYM2] USS Atuin Captain Samyr Kanil
    No. of Votes: 3
    DarknessSmiles
    chriswriter90
    Happerry

    Total No. of Voters: 38
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