To Boldly Go... (a Starfleet quest)

[Simon_Jester]

This was written, with some help from @AKuz , entirely prior to the last few chapters of @OneirosTheWriter 's "These Are The Voyages..." The only impact the conclusion of "These Are The Voyages" had was to change the point at which I ended the chapter.

USS Enterprise
Passenger Quarters
Day After the Battle of the Ixaria Approaches

Wine and Song
Chapter One​

Early on in her tenure as Enterprise's captain, Nash ka'Sharren had realised that sometimes you had a prisoner that you wanted to treat well- or a guest that was more than a little problematic. Thus had Chief Engineer Bazeck and then-Tactical Officer Samhaya Mrr'shan undertaken the rebuilding of Guest Cabin Sixteen.

Comfortable, well appointed, and highly secure, Cabin Sixteen was the current residence of Enterprise's latest high-ranking guest: Warmaster Halkh of House Tartesis.

The Licori man had been a dangerous opponent in war and, in the rapidly approaching time of peace, could make a capable ally.

Which explained why the Starfleet commodore was stepping through Cabin Sixteen's threshold, with a bottle of something bright purple and highly alcoholic tucked under one arm and datapad under the other.

Warmaster Halkh​

"Hello, admiral." Halkh rose from the chair where he'd been writing something, on an old-fashioned pen and stationery set that had probably been dug out of storage for him. "My compliments on the guest accomodations. I've seen better furnished prison cells, but only for princes, not for bluff, baseborn fighting men such as myself." He smiled.

"The cabin agrees with you?" Nash set the bottle and datapad down on the desk. The deep-green man with his thin fringe of hair nodded in reply.

"I could get used to doors that open themselves without prompting- not that I expect I'll need to. For some odd reason, your automata don't seem to answer to me..." Halkh tilted his head, with an ironic twist to his lips.

She frowned. "The basic comfort controls should. I'll tell Engineering to do a diagnostic."

"They do? I have to admit, after the door wouldn't open for me I stopped try- Ahhh, so that's why the light switch was hidden away behind the nightstand! Not supposed to be used at all, normally! All I had to do to shut the lights off was say 'darken, friend, and depart,' or some such?"

Nash craned her neck to see around the low table, beginning to wonder just how carefully Halkh had gone over his new quarters. "The voice recognition works more reliably if you say 'computer,' then speak out your instructions."

"I see..." Halkh paused, then spoke almost experimentally. "Com-" the syllable sounded sour on his tongue the first time, less so the second. Computer, do you have a selection of recorded ambient background sounds?"

"Affirmative," the little machine Bazeck had carefully isolated from the main networks replied.

"Anything that matches a gentle breeze through forest leaves?"

"Affirmative. Requesting further guidance. Library entries matching this description include over six hundred biomes on forty-seven planets."

"Pick one at random." Halkh nodded firmly, and rapped out the word "Dismissed!" Entirely unnecessary, but understandable. The sound of some kind of conifer needles brushing against each other in a whispering wind began to sound in the cabin.

"Just wondering. I'm impressed; I don't imagine your Federation has a servant problem." And now he may be working out how well we can process natural language queries- and that the computer didn't ask me for an override over something that minor. Should be harmless. She thought.

She smiled back. "Most of the Federation no longer feels much need for servants. Only equals, with technology to take care of the drudge side of life."

"I can see why. Now if only you had a dumbwaiter that conjured up exotic alien viands on the spot..."

"Still in testing, we're working on it." She smiled wider.

Halkh barked a laugh, then stopped to really look at her, even more intently than he had when they'd first met as he was beamed aboard. "You know, I honestly can't tell if you meant that or not."

"Of course you can, warmaster. Don't you trust me?" She made a singularly obvious gesture of batting her eyes at him, and he laughed again.

"That is an excellent question, with a very interesting answer... which I think it best to tell, oh, you a few years after the peace. You seem guileless enough, admiral- but I should be careful. Perhaps you are merely here after the secrets of Tartresis' torpedoes."

"I've got a professional interest, but-" she made a disarming gesture, but the Licori interrupted her.

Halkh shook his head. "I'm afraid you're out of luck, admiral. Tarenda had all the special munitions in the main torpedo room where she could keep an eye on them; the ones my ship fired were hand-built prototypes."

"I shouldn't be surprised." Nash shook her head, remembering Enterprise jolting under the hammering blasts of screaming blue-white missiles. She hadn't felt a ship jump like that since 33 Fujit. Even then, only the heaviest full salvoes from Lorgot had ever batted the explorer around like that. "Do mentats take notes?"

"Ours did. Twenty thousand handwritten pages, in shorthand, with a sixteen-character encryption scheme of her own devising. Rather fragmented, I suspect, given that Tarenda herself had a photographic memory. But even so, her quarters and lab were close to the torpedo room. I imagine they were all thoroughly incinerated." Halkh smiled with a strange, sad triumph.

"That's a shame."

"Indeed. Of course, despite the fear of Kortennon spies, detailed copies of her notes and prototypes were kept back at Calamar starbase. Naturally the project goes on without her; I imagine the house's engineers will reconstruct her work in short order."

Nash smiled a little, reading the glint in his eye. And I can believe as much of what he just said as I want to. So she replied with a question- what she was pretty sure he'd take as a joke.

"And you're hoping they succeed?"

Halkh spread his hands. "Forgive me, my dear admiral. I am a prisoner, adrift among hostile aliens, without the consolations of wine and song. Hope is all i have." That glint, again.

Direct hit! Right to the sense of humor. "You did see the bottle I brought in, didn't you?" Nash had been keeping up with Vulcans for a long time, now, and her eyebrows were very well trained for occasions like this.

"Of course- but how could I spoil a traditional turn of poetic phrase for something as mundane as the facts on the matter?" He motioned to the chair by the desk, stepping across the room to pull over a second one for himself. "I look forward to being corrected on the inaccuracies of my grammar. Knowing your reputation as a traveler, if you've put any effort at all into assembling a liquor cabinet, you must have quite the collection by now."

"It's actually starting to get out of hand." Nash grinned. "I feel like I need an expert just to keep track of it all."

"I could recommend the services of a few good sommeliers, but you might find their knowledge somewhat provincial. Also the matter of immigration permits, while this war lasts." Halkh's flip of the hand seemed like a Licori version of the shrug. "By the way, do Andorians have the custom of the toast?"

"Yes, and I had one in mind..."

"You do?"

"I thought I'd give you my condolences," she said as she poured a small amount of the heavy Amarki wine into a pair of crystal glasses, "I know how hard it can be to lose a ship. It's a hell of a thing. I'd be devastated to lose Enterprise; she's been one of the great loves of my life." Nash raises her glass in the air as the Warmaster takes his own glass, "To our ships."

"To our ships." says the Warmaster, clinking his glass against ka'Sharren's.

 

[Simon_Jester]

[Warning: possibly non-canon, even within the non-canonicity of the metaplot of the TV show that may or may not exist]​

Wine and Song- Interview with Sir Patrick Stewart​

"So, seven years later, you came back to Star Trek for a guest appearance in To Boldly Go, playing a Licori general in the episodes The World Wonders and Wine and Song. That came as a pleasant surprise to a lot of fans of the series. What can you tell us about that decision?"

"Well, to be honest, at first I didn't want to go back. Captain Picard has been such a big part of my life that I've only just now started to get used to not being Picard. And I was thinking "No, not again, certainly not." But they said ah, but this show is happening, oh, fifty years before The Next Generation. And they weren't asking me to play a little boy in a vinyard." [smiles]

"But still a spaceship captain. Didn't it feel more or less the same?"

"Oh no. It was rather surprising. Coming back, but with this quite different character, was interesting. You see, playing Captain Picard, he was always a very serious man. He had a sense of humor, but when it came to his work he was very serious, always giving speeches and so forth. Captain Halkh, he's got that discipline and intensity too, but he's a happier man in many ways. Has a great appreciation for wine, women, and song."

"A... Falstaff?"

"Hm, I wouldn't say that. Falstaff has more vices, and fewer virtues- he's always corrupt, and the trick to Falstaff is to make him amiably corrupt."

"Serves me right for trying a Shakespeare reference."

"No, no, it's fine." [smiles broadly] "I'm just glad to see someone your age think of it. There's always something to find in Shakespeare, if you look. For example, I could see Falstaff and Halkh drinking together and having a good time. Picard would never be able to put up with Falstaff. He'd be too polite to say anything, but he wouldn't like him."

"Hm... I'll be sure to study up on those plays. Anyhow, they persuaded you to come back..."

"The most important part was when they promised not to try and jam me into one of those old space suits that used to tie my back into knots." [smiles] "We talked about the part, and the more I thought about it, the more it grew on me. I did need to be painted green, but it's Star Trek; they're very good at painting people green. Very professional. "

"You've said Halkh is a more fun-loving character. Aside from that, how was playing Halkh so different from playing Picard?"

"Well, in that first episode, they put Halkh on a starship to fight a battle- against the Federation. And of course, naturally the crew of the Enterprise have his ship out of commission by the end of the episode. Coming back the next time, though, playing him as a prisoner of war, there I am on the Enterprise and it's tremendously different. In seven years and four movies there was never anything like it."

"Because I'm playing Halkh, this honorable man, but his duty is done. He's a captive, but in his heart- he's a free man, because he doesn't have this burden to carry. And since he's a captive among civilized people instead of a bunch of monsters, he can take some time to enjoy that freedom. Picard, on the other hand, had plenty of power, this tremendous starship at his disposal, but was hardly ever a free man. He certainly never had a happy moment when he'd been taken prisoner!"

"Between the Cardassians and the Borg, certainly not! But what do you mean about him not being free the rest of the time?"

"Rules, bureaucracy, the burdens of command. Picard was the captain, this man under constant pressure, who's constantly lecturing people and who's- let's be honest- more than a bit irritable. Compared to Halkh, he's in an entirely different universe. Captain Picard can't lean back at the table and play- I forget what they called it, some sort of space guitar. He can't get drunk and make jokes and trade war stories. Captain Halkh can do all of that. I imagine he'd do the joking and the music even when he still had his ship, though I never got to play him doing that."

"I can see why you found it interesting. How did the idea of a character so different from what you were used to, where did that come from?"

"As I understand it, they'd been going over each other's scripts and said- look, there's no such thing as an entire species of crazed mad scientists. They can't all be out to invent new terror weapons or whatever, there have to be people with a certain nobility of character, people you can respect, people you'd want to sit down to dinner with, at least assuming they don't eat live worms or some such. And after they'd thought about it a bit, and gone back to some of the roots of their ideas about the Licori, they thought of approaching me..."

 

[Simon_Jester]

Wine and Song
Chapter Two​

USS Enterprise
Guest Cabin Sixteen

Nash raises her glass in the air as the Warmaster takes his own glass, "To our ships."

"To our ships." says the Warmaster, clinking his glass against ka'Sharren's.

Click to shrink...

The Licori spoke, musingly. "By the way, I may not have seen much of this vessel, but I've a certain sense for such things. And I sense a lack of holes in your flagship, admiral. Tell me, did you order this ship to take the lead position during the battle?"

"Yes." She could tell the pride was gleaming in her eye.

"Then let me apologize, Admiral ka'Sharren. I have done you a grave disservice. Knowing little of the exact disposition of your forces, I had simply assumed you would fly your flag from the trailing ship, in the position of greater safety."

She frowned. "Then those last two torpedoes that hit the Liberty..."

"Were meant for you." The Licori confirmed, tilting his head, as though waiting for a reaction.

Nash quietly revised her estimate of just how much trouble the Licori 'warmaster' could be, without his ultra-tech torpedoes to play with. "Now that we're done trying to kill each other, I suppose that's in the past."

Halkh laughed. "Words after my own heart. I changed sides a time or two, in my youth, and it doesn't do to obsess over old and honorable enemies." He paused, contemplating a sip of the Amarki wine and gazing at the bottle. "I like this. Full-bodied, with depth, and finesse. I don't think I've ever encountered anything with quite this flavor- smoky, almost." Halkh looked up from the bottle to Nash's face. "You say this is made by the Amarki? I haven't been so lucky as to make the acquaintance of their kind for any length of time."

"Yes; it's from one of the equatorial provinces on Selindra. A gift from the knight commander of the Order of the Bronze Bracelet, two years ago. They gave it to me after my time with the Amarki squadron fighting the Syndicate."

Halkh looked interested- almost avid. "How does your Federation's war against the Orion Syndicate go, by the way?"

Nash shrugged. "The government is reorganizing Orion space to cut the power of the corporations. That was all they really needed. There were too many big, powerful gangs of executives vying for control. They all use the Syndicate, and the Syndicate uses them."

The Licori nodded slowly. "That kind of vermin breeds fastest on a cluttered world, one that carelessly feeds them crumbs of opportunity, and does not clean away its own filth." He stared into his goblet, looking thoughtful, then turned back to the Starfleet commodore.

He frowned. "You think that way about us, don't you?"

She paused. "I won't lie. Some of us do. The Kortennon and the Ixara have unleashed some very dangerous things. And the Empire's defended them, even after we asked you to stop endangering our peoples."

"The Emperor might have had a shorter life, shorter even than he enjoyed in this world that is, if he had said 'yes' to you that day. No House of any note would lightly accept such restrictions from the hand of another sovereign, be they of greater rank or not."

"That... that leads into a question I'd wanted to ask you, actually. What is it that makes such actions seem like something that needs to be protected? I've met a lot of species with a lot of ideas about who has the right to do what, and to who. But I hadn't imagined I would see anyone willing to go to war to protect something like a Kortennon experiment that blows up stars."

Halkh twisted his hand. "It's the nature of the exercise of sovereign power. By definition, power shapes the universe, and the head of a House is a sovereign. Thus, they have a right to shape that which falls under their hands to control."

The warmaster didn't seem like an oversensitive type- and while Nash hadn't met that many Licori yet, Halkh struck her as more of a 'citizen of the cosmos' than most of the species. If she was ever going to get an answer to the question itching in her brain, it would be here.

"Yes, but why? Why not... restrain them? Why let them do something that's put your entire species in danger?"

---

Halkh was silent for a long time. Then he cleared his throat.

"In the mirrors of the many judgments, I see the blood on my hands, shed on many planets over generations of time. I am mindful of my sins, both against others and against my own spirit. To be sure, being the man that I am, I despise Kortennon for their foulness. I loathe them for their wrongs against my own person. But if time and fortune have given them dominion, then who am I, with the deaths on my conscience and the flaws in my own heart, to decree that this dominion be broken? The actions of sovereignty are commanded by Fate, for the outcomes of Fate's own design. If the wise sacrifice everything to create something great and terrible, who am I to say it should never have existed? If the powerful act in ways I despise within their own homes, who am I to say that this is anything other than the grand design? When the foulness of Kortennon brings devastation on our empire, I mourn... but that, too, could be the hand of Fate."

"But if they have a right to do things like that, just because they can, what would you do if you...?"

That cunning smile lit Halkh's face. "Oh, now if I had the power to say 'no' to Baron Kortennon or his like? Directly?" He rubbed his hands. "Why, that would be a very interesting day indeed. It comes to me, thinking about it, that perhaps the worlds and people of the Arcadian- no, the Licori- suffer from an excess of sovereigns. Perhaps we might pool power into a single government, as it seems the Orions have learned to do. Not a man or a house, but something larger. Hm."

Halkh rubbed his chin, looking very thoughtful. "Admiral ka'Sharren, I would like to offer you a bargain. Obviously my own actions are restricted by my oaths, but some things, I think, I can exchange with you freely, even if you are an enemy of the empire. Perhaps some of your officers could use some entertainment, perhaps? Diversion and merriment? You have had so little exposure to the more gracious and elegant side of our civilization, I fear. Among the nobility of Calamar, I am considered a musician of some repute."

"Oh? What instrument do you play?"

"The bithraset, a many-stringed piece, popular across much of Morshadd. Unfortunately your last shot vaporized my quarters- and took my bithraset with it. But perhaps you'd happen to have a selection of stringed instruments lying about, somewhere aboard this fighting palace of a starship?"

"I think so." Nash nodded. She knew there'd been a few things like that kicking around the ship, on top of the crew's personal instruments.

"Excellent! Perhaps I may yet entertain your officers, at your next dinner party. This, and my parole, I would offer- for the loan of an instrument, and a run at your ship's library."

She saw the grin on his face, and revised her estimate upward another notch, noticing how casually he'd slipped in what it sounded like he really wanted. She suspected why he wanted it, too. He might be an old warhorse, but that smile was the kind someone used right before they tried to steal your front teeth without you even noticing. And sometimes they pulled it off, too.

But something about the man suggested that he was on the brink of being turned around, to go steal someone else's teeth instead.

Nash nodded. "It's a bargain. I'll talk to Captain Mrr'shan and make arrangements; security will still want to keep track of you."

"Naturally. Speaking of which- another form of entertainment comes to my mind. Call it my other specialty, besides music." The warmaster tilted his head and smiled in a somewhat different way, and Nash raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"Why, I believe you Starfleeters should have the chance to learn about traditional Licori fighting styles- especially those which have arisen since the advent of the personal kinetic damper."

"That- sounds interesting." Nash looked intent. She sensed that Halkh wasn't just making small talk.

"Indeed. Do you have a sergeant-at-arms experienced in close combat with bladed weapons? Perhaps they and I can give a demonstration. I'm sure you captured a few working samples of our dampers; I know my security troops would have had them on their persons. Not that they'd be very helpful to us- or you."

"What, personal force fields? That sounds like a very useful technology."

"Yes, you'd think so, wouldn't you? But they have a worrying tendency to spontaneously explode when struck with energy weapons, you see. We saw the problem with that early on against the Ked Paddah, when they detonated their way through an entire legion of Kortennon troops. Such a terrible, terrible humiliation for their house. It was magnificent! Still, though, they do make sword fights interestingly difficult."

"Why do you even bother with them, though, if a hand phaser makes them explode?"

"We usually don't, but once in a while solid projectiles are the best way to put an end to something that's otherwise shielded or surrounded in a negating field. Having a tool that counters a bullet can be just as helpful as having a tool that counters a beam. Or one may be fighting in close quarters, against some giant monstrosity- an occasional Bene trick, and a Kortennon specialty." Halkh scowled. "And I'm told Baron Kortennon is convinced his mentats are on the brink of devising a personal shield that stops both beams and shot- he goes through mentats quickly, and they tend to promise him the moon and the stars as a result. I doubt he's right to trust them, but he may believe he's right."

Nash nodded slowly, wondering if she could still get that information to T'Lorel in time for the attack on Gammon. That would be something very helpful. She'd better go.

She said a polite goodbye, observing the sly smile on Halkh's face, and stepped out of the Licori's 'guest room.' Then she hurried off to the nearest signals compartment...

 

[OneirosTheWriter]

Captain's Log, USS Voshov, Stardate 25862.4 - Captain Demora Sulu

It is difficult to think of more than two million tons of starship with no cloak as being potentially stealthy, but I think Starfleet has proved its point many times before that a little cleverness and a big deflector dish go a long way.

And it's going to need to, because the Voshov is headed off for a town hall meeting with some Concerned Citizens.

-

Captain's Log, USS Stargazer, Stardate 25862.8 - Captain Maryam Ajam

We have arrived at the M-450 system, which is effectively a primary and a thick asteroid belt, accounting for the lack of interesting name. However, it looks like someone has picked up on the, admittedly titanic, subspace wake of the Pride of Kadesh. I have unknown ships inbound. Fleet Command is deploying additional forces to protect the mining operations, while we will meet the newcomers.

-

Captain's Log, USS S'harien, Stardate 25863.1 - Captain T'Rinta

While exploring an area between Ke'Luur and Gad, we detected an unknown vessel. As there is a danger of unfamiliar mentat ships in this area, we have approached cautiously. If it is friendly, then it should still be friendly when it notices us. If it is a fleeing mentat, then it will be most surprised when it notices us.

-

Captain's Log, USS Odyssey, Stardate 25863.3 - Captain Langa Mbeki

So far it has been an uneventful mission exploring-

[Comm beep]

Yes, bridge? What, no! No, tell her I'm ... away! Or-

Avoiding you, Q? I wouldn't dream of it. Computer, End Log.

-

Captain's Log, USS Voshov, Stardate 25863.5

We were nearly through, but we're positive that a passing Yrillian freighter saw our subspace wake, and if we allow them to carry that sensor log into the wrong hands, it will surely reach the Obsidian Order. I'm taking an away team in a shuttle craft from the edge of the Morkadia system, to where the freighter is waiting. There we will sneak aboard and wipe the sensor logs, then slip away before anyone knows what has happened.

-

Captain's Log, USS Stargazer, Stardate 25863.7

The new arrivals are ... I'm going to have to go for honesty here. They are repulsively mercantile, in a way I typically don't see out of an Orion hypercorp boardroom. Their ship is a sort of ochre crescent, and they say they are from Ferengar.

-

Captain's Log, USS S'harien, Stardate 25864.2

Running somewhat counter to the recent run of results, we have made first contact with what seems to be a peaceful species with near Federation technology. They are unaffiliated with the Honiani, but are on sufficiently amicable terms.

From our discussions, they refer to themselves as the Tauni. We have learned that they are a relatively recently self-liberated species, having cast off their overlords, who have fled coreward. They are extremely reticent about these overlords, however, and I have been able to tell little.

[New species met: The Tauni, Starting Relations 75/100]

-

Captain's Log, USS Stargazer, Stardate 25864.7

My warnings to Fleet Command are being heeded, but nonetheless they are still treating with these Ferengi. Resources are being traded, and we have acquired new dilithium supplies.

[Gain +10pp, +5rp]

-

Captain's Log, USS Voshov, Stardate 25865.2

We have returned from the alarmingly wild and woolly waystation having successfully accomplished our mission, and have moved on. The Concerned Citizen's runabout is there at the rendezvous successfully.

[Gain +10pp, advance relationship with Sydraxian Concerned Citizens]

-

Captain's Log, USS Odyssey, Stardate 25865.7

That was an experience. The Odyssey was swept across the galaxy, seeing dread threats far and wide ... kingdoms collapsed into tyranny. Saviours become overlords. The benevolent made malignant. Come to think of it, she was rather pushing a theme. But my crew has seen much, and learned much. Q eventually returned us home.

[Gain +1 Crew Rating]

-

 

[OneirosTheWriter]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

Alternate Take

https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/posts/8604826/

2315.Q2

Starfleet Intelligence Command - Steering Committee

Admiral,


The successful operation to destroy the Anoxa superweapon may have been one of the pivotal moments of the Arcadian War. It was certainly one of the crowning glories of Starfleet Intelligence. Ever more surprising, it is one that we can talk about! Certainly, the Office-That-Must-Not-Be-Numbered cannot be so openly spoken about.

The fact that this war has been brought to a substantive close so quickly, when the Romulans clearly expected us to be tied down for years, has deeply alarmed out neighbours Tailward. However, with reports of Birds of Prey of either variety burning in the void, they can do little about the matter now. We remain locked in a low-simmer of a battle with Romulan assets attempting to influence House Bene. This has not led to direct violence, but there have been some suspicious close-call accidents encountered by our staff on Morshadd.

Elsewhere, the Cardassian espionage attempts have accelerated. They are thus far restricted to information gathering, and not direct acts of sabotage.

Dutifully,
Vice Admiral Scott Linderley, Director

[This message will self-delete in 10 seconds]

==========================


(Pick One Cardassian Tactical Report)
[ ][CARD] Cardassian Ship Analysis Report - Write in class
[ ][CARD] Cardassian Shipbuilding Report
[ ][CARD] Cardassian Tactics Report (Gain +5% combat vs Cardassian fleets for the next 12 months)
[ ][CARD] Cardassian Fleet Strength Report

(Pick One Romlan Tactical Report)
[ ][ROM] Romulan Ship Analysis Report - Write in
[ ][ROM] Romulan Shipbuilding Report
[ ][ROM] Romulan Shipyard Report
[ ][ROM] Romulan Fleet Strength Report

(PIck up to five General Intel Reports)
[ ][REPORT] What would you like to see reported on?
[ ][REPORT] Romulan Diplomatic Posture Report
[ ][REPORT] Klingon Diplomatic Posture Report
[ ][REPORT] Cardassian Diplomatic Posture Report
[ ][REPORT] <Any> Diplomatic Posture Report

[ ][REPORT] Klingon Fleet Strength Report
[ ][REPORT] Klingon New Battleship Early Report
[ ][REPORT] <Any> Fleet Strength Report

[ ][REPORT] Ship Analysis Report: <Write in Ship to try to get profile>
[ ][REPORT] Shipyard Activity Report for: <Write in Power to get current build details and possibly resource levels>
NB: Not currently available for Klingons

[ ][REPORT] <Any> Tactics Report (2% combat bonus vs this fleet for 12months)

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[ ][REPORT] GBZ: Determine what projects other factions are up to

[ ][REPORT] Write in other Question
(QM/N: As always, bear in mind what SI will be able to access or determine)

==========================

Pick a new Rear Admiral commanding Gabriel Border Zone
[ ][GBZ] Pick a Rear Admiral from the list of available Commodores and Rear Admirals

https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/posts/6857361/

 

[Iron Wolf]

What about the fucking Sydraxians
​

In an office high above the streets of San Francisco, Rebecca Lin put down the image enhancing goggles, her hands shaking, face white as a sheet. Below her tiny dots like ants, the occasional one in crimson, moved about. One of those crimson dots now had the 30-year veteran of the Federation Diplomatic Service throughly shaken, underlining the terror of the situation.

"T'odd!" She said.

Her Caitian companion in the office, T'odd Diplomacat was definitely not a Lacarre. He turned away from the wall-sized portrait of President N'Gir that was now a standard acroutment in all FDS offices, looking at the ghost-face of Rebecca with one raised eyebrow.

"What is it?" He said.

"Thiur is going for coffee."

The Caitian blinked at her, "Uh. So what?"

"With the rotation of the planet right now and it's relative positioning, he's headed straight for Sydrax."

T'odd lept out of his chair, ears almost brushing the ceiling before he landed, crouched, on the seat cushion. His eyes darted around in a panic, looking for the diplomatic hotline, to try to assuage fears.

But it was too late. The red-colored console that dominated the other wall had an incoming transmission light. Resigned, defeated, Rebecca leaned back in her chair and hit the 'Accept Call' button on her desk. Behind her, the eyes of President N'Gir seemed to follow her every movement judgementally. Which they did, because it's the future and paintings can do that thanks to nanotechnology or something.

A Sydraxian, scarred and wearing an eyepatch on both her eyes, answered the call. "What's up, dipshits," said Rexasodie diplomatically, "I see you've got Thiur heading our way. I want you to know all you've managed to do is united our people in a common cause and set our war economy level to 'Absolutely Pissed.' We've got four Kalindrexes completing tomorrow now."

"No!" Gurgled T'odd, quite incompetently, wildly gesturing and spilling his soda, "Please! It's all a misunderstanding!"

"Ms. Rexasodie, we're sorry!" Rebecca said, flailing desperately and accidentally hitting a button that deleted all intelligence they'd gathered on Cardassian affiliates and killed 500 teacup pigs, "Please, don't declare war on us! We can't possibly stand against that! And the thought of losing you as potential affiliates... it would break my and the President's heart!"

Rexasodie cackled quite amicably, "Too late, you idiots! We're all back in with the Cardassians now!"



In the dark of the night, Ambassador Dippali Lamet awoke in a cold sweat. She reached over for her communicator, opening up a secure line to FDS HQ.

"Is Thiur assigned to the GBZ?" they asked.

The yeoman didn't even bother to ask why Lamet was calling at 3:00am local. The FDS was too efficient for that, "I've heard rumor from Sousa's office that he won't be considered, but they could change their minds at the last second."

Lamet breathed a sigh of relief. "And I take it you can't see him going for coffee right now?"

The yeoman took a while to answer, "...Why would Thuir be in Paris?"

Lamet laughed, "Right, of course." She laughed again, relieved. All that work with the Concerned Citizens wouldn't go to waste. For once, the quick-drawing, phaser-blasting, mad-eyed weirdos of Starfleet wouldn't ruin one of her carefully crafted and meticulously managed operations. "Who are they thinking of replacing him with?" Please say Revak.

"Oh, Nash ka'Sharren is probabl--"

"nnnoooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
​

---

a/n: all in good humor, no need to be salty! Also this better be considered top-level canon. Even the dream part. That was a premonition not a dream, obvs.​

 

[OneirosTheWriter]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[28][CARD] Cardassian Tactics Report (Gain +5% combat vs Cardassian fleets for the next 12 months)
[27][ROM] Romulan Shipyard Report

[30][REPORT] Status/Progress of Licori Succession Crisis
[28][REPORT] Cardassian Diplomatic Posture Report
[26][REPORT] GBZ: Cardassian Strength
[19][REPORT] Status/Progress of Sydraxian Civil Strife
[19][REPORT] Status/Progress of Klingon-Romulan War

[28][GBZ] T'Lorel

Personal Log, Patricia Chen

If that war hadn't ended when it did I would have been well on the way to a complete breakdown trying to juggle commitments. As it is I think I'm on first name basis with every Betazoid in San Francisco.

Computer, End Log

==========================================================


Shipyard Operations Report

The following ships have finished refits:

Miranda-A-class USS Intrepid (NCC-1657) at 40 Eridani A Fleet Yard Berth 1
Miranda-A-class USS Eketha (NCC-1655) at 40 Eridani A Fleet Yard Berth 2

The following ships have drawn Crew:

1 Renaissance (NCC-2603) at Utopia Planitia Berth 1 - 3/5/3
1 Renaissance (NCC-2604) at Utopia Planitia Berth 2 - 3/5/3
1 Renaissance (NCC-2605) at Utopia Planitia Berth 3 - 3/5/3

The following ships have finished repairs:

USS Sarek, Excelsior-class, NCC-2004, 40 Eridani A Fleet Yards Berth A
RDS Yagad-Tich, Megatortoise, NCC-2901, 40 Eridani A Fleet Yards Berth B
RDS Hadabat, Turtleship, NCC-2903, Lor'Vela Orbital Construction Facility Berth A
USS Hood, Constitution-B, NCC-1742, Andoria Orbital Berth A
USS Svai, Miranda, NCC-1658, Hanath-Cho Berth B
USS Fidenlity, Miranda-A, NCC-1634, Green Hook Fleet Yards Berth A

The following ships have commenced repair and refit:

USS Endurance, Excelsior-class, NCC-2007, 40 Eridani A Fleet Yards Berth B
USS Sojourner, Excelsior-class, NCC-2022, 40 Eridani A Fleet Yards Berth A

The following ship has been returned to the Fleet Register:

USS Lion, Miranda-class, NCC-1654, Captain Maria Volkov commanding

Total - 9/15/9

==========================================================

Chief of Staff's Log, Vice Admiral Shey ch'Tharvasse

Admiral, I've been informed by Vice Admiral Rinias ch'Vohlet that they will be retiring in a few months time, allowing fresh blood to take over the role of Director of the Ship Design Bureau. They have overseen a productive nine years in this job, and feel that they have impeded the progress of those beneath them for more than long enough.

-

Personal Log, Admiral Valentina Sousa

I've give the President notice of my intention to resign from Starfleet at the end of the year. I am admittedly a little uncertain as to allowing President N'Gir to select my successor, but there is no way to wait out the term at this rate. I have overseen crises and carnage during my time, and right now I would like nothing more than to retire to somewhere in the heights of South America and breath fresh air and maybe try my hand at writing.

-

Current RP Pool = 308pt

8pts are required to activate a Tech Team
308 / 8 = 38 rem 4

38 Tech Teams may be activated. Unused rp will carry forward to next year

The following Tech Teams require assignments:

Daystrom Institute
Yoyodyne Propulsion Systems
Office of Naval Architecture
Caitian Frontier Police R&D
Vulcan Science Academy
Starfleet Science Academy
University of Betazed
Spock
Starfleet Medical
Generic Team 3

The following Tech Team assignments are carrying over:

Utopia Planitia Design Group: Ambassador Project
Amash Hagan: 2320s Research Centers
Generic Team 4 : Primitive Isolinear Computers
40 Eridani A Shipyards: 2310s Warp Propulsion
San Francisco Fleet Yards : 2320s Construction Techniques
Generic Team 1 : 2310s Long -Range Sensor
Weapons Fabrication Division: 2310s Phaser Development
Generic Team 2: 2310s Torpedo Development
Federation Broadcast Service : 2320s Long-Range Comms
Generic Team 5: 2320s Signal Intercepts
Tellar Prime Academy of Mineral Science : 2320s Special Refining
All-Pyllix Geological Institute : 2310s Bulk Resources
Intazzi Team : 2320s Fusion Power
Lt-Cdr Kuznetsova's Tiger Team: The Mission Unending
Admiral Lathriss : Border World Focus
Starfleet Tactical Command - Games & Theory Division: Cardassian Research


ZERO TEAMS MUST BE DEACTIVATED



[ ][PLAN] Submit a Research Plan, using up to thirty-two Tech Teams (Only changing teams need to be listed)

For an additional +10rp each, an extra Inspiration roll will be applied to a team. Up to five teams may be boosted.
[ ][BOOST] List teams to Boost

For list of tech areas and teams, please see: The State of Play - Research Megapost

Member World Coordination Office

Ships Commissioned

Andor - 1 Refit [Miranda-A] * All Mirandas upgraded
Rigel - Danad Nashad @ Laudon [2x1000kt]
Apiata - Repair [Stinger]
Gaeni - 1 Cargo Ship, 1 Engineering Ship, Expansion @ Gaeni Manufacturing Coop [1x1000kt]
Caldonia - 1 Civilian Research Ship
Ked Paddah - 1 x Orah, 1 x Cargo Ship

Wartime economies in member worlds were by and large only activated to a limited amount, and they remain activated for the time being. Soon, however, they will draw back down to their regular levels.

-

Starfleet Intelligence Report

Our friends among the Yrillians have told us of one of the Independent Drive Yards completing a Hasque on behalf of the Sydraxian government, as in-flux as that concept is at the moment. Likewise, the surviving Hasques have finished repairs.

At the same time, we have indications that one of the new fleet yards in Cardassia, in the Galundun system, has achieved operational status.

 

[Iron Wolf]

Devil's In The Details​

Sydrax
Oul trudged miserably along a cobblestone path by the banks of the capital city's rivers. It was a mild day, beautiful by Sydraxian standards, the warmth of the sun complemented by a cool breeze from the river. And here in the part of the city known that was becoming increasingly known as the Red Zone things had been kept relatively quiet. But Oul wasn't a Sydraxian. Even with the breeze it was too hot, and his simple clothes were scratchy on his prosthetic skin. The beautiful flowers of the trees and in the pots lining the pathway filled the air with pollen. He was told that despite the idyll tranquil of the scene, sometimes the wind carried the sounds of fighting across the river, and the scent of smoke. Oul wouldn't know, because the instant he stepped outside his entire respiratory system went into meltdown, even with the allergy shots.

He was joined by Hierarch Kakix, richly adorned and with red feathers hanging from around his neck. He meandered slowly, no doubt enjoying Oul's obvious misery. Accompanying Oul was a Bajoran woman, and surrounding the trio was a quartet of Sydraxian paramilitaries, red sashes over their armored vests. They were armed with flechette guns and grenade launchers that dazzled in the midday light

Kakix stopped by a bench, taking in a deep breath. "The Cardassian Union's dominion is dead," he stated turning to look down at Oul.

That bastard had dragged him out here to drop this on him. Oul hoped the sniff he gave in reaction came across as sufficiently dismissive and not overly mucous-y instead.

"Whatever makes you say that?" Asked Oul's Bajoran companion, smiling serenely. "From what I've heard the situation here is far from resolved, and by all indications the Union government is functioning quite happily after the purges all those years ago."

"I agree," added Oul, "Our mutual friends have given no serious indication of abandoning us." Well, not yet. "And despite the violence in the street I haven't heard such pessimism from your Red colleagues."

Kakix screeched laughter, "I'm the pessimist? Why, Odazi," he said, brushing one claw on Oul's shoulder, a gesture which forced him to suppress a shudder, "Have you read some of the case reports flowing in from the operatives in Yrillian space?" Kakix took his claw away and idly rubbed it on his sash as if to clean it, "Oh no, of course not. Because we've been the only ones bothering to intercept them."

The Bajoran woman smiled politely as Oul blinked at Kakix. "Sorry," he said, "Am I supposed to be impressed you managed to crack Cardassian codes?"

Flowers rustled and cloying sweetness wafted on the air as Kakix bristled. He raised himself over Oul, a slight flush on his neck, "I don't care if I impress you, Eel," he said, turning sharply and walking along the path again with an annoyed whistle, "What matters is the content. Cardassians expressing thinly-veiled apprehension and fear of the Federation in the Licori war." Kakik hooted dismissively, "A war with a grand total of two battleships in the Licori's possession. We have faced a larger fleet of the Federation's in the Expanse." He glared into the distance, as if trying to admonish Cardassia itself, "Alone for the most part. And yet intel officers are quaking in their boots?"

"Ah." Oul said, "I remember the document you are referring to. A nice draft report from an unnamed, singular source. There is some good analysis there, and no doubt the Gul responsible will regularize the defeatist spin away before pushing it higher. The last time such pessimism was detected in the Cardassian machine it was… judiciously removed." Oul waved a hand. "Case officers can become very myopic. It is a well known problem. Their whole world becomes whatever species they are studying. Sometimes, they grow to admire it, and panic when it falls. I am sure this is what happened here."

"He suggests cutting Sydrax loose!" Kakix said, craning his head to look down on Oul, "If that idea gains traction on Cardassia, then perhaps my time is wasted here with the Reds. The Blues and Greens might have the right of this revolution." He smiled wickedly, breathing heavily, "And I am sure if that fails I could earn favor with the Graduates by telling them about about you." He jerked his head up, at the Bajoran, "Or your little Rabble-Rouser."

The Bajoran glanced at the red-sashed guards and Kakix shook his head at her, "Oh, don't think they're loyal to the color on their chest. They've been with me for years. They trust my judgement."

Their eyes still darting about in search of threats, the four paramilitaries nodded. The lone male in the group took a moment to loosen his collar.

The Bajoran stopped, still smiling, although it was more of a smirk. "My dear Hierarch," she said, "Abandoning us for the Graduates or the Blues is nothing but pure nihilism. You have Cardassian backing, they do not." She spread her hands, "What more is there to say?"

"Much more, my dear Cheret," Kakix growled.

Cheret smiled, "Before the Cardassians, I was destined to nothing but life as a simple shopkeeper. Literally a simple one. Confined to sell the same wares as ever, restricted. I said no to that, Hierarch. I made a kiln, much more efficient than the ones we used for our pottery. Revolutionary. And I thought, 'I could sell this.' And so I did. My family could afford more than ever." Her smile had disappeared, and her voice wavered slightly as she continued. "It was good until the Rectifiers came and sliced the nose off my face. Didn't let the healers touch me until it oozed pus and black poison was in my veins." Cheret let that hang in the air.

"I carried that mark, that emptiness, around with me after I survived." She continued, "What did the Cardassians do when they came? Replaced it with a biosynthetic facsimile, and hung those damn Rectifiers from the towers of their own Citadel. Recognized my talents, and lifted me up to high office. And now you stand here, wavering in support of your people as they teeter between Yrillian anarchy, Federation submission, and self-immolating militarism, and pretend you can just abandon them?"

"They abandoned us in the Expanse!" Kakix said. Sweat on his brow shimmered in the sun.

"You failed to hold the line." Cheret retorted. Kakix rose up, his eyes filled with fury. "Abandoned or not," Cheret said, "We're here now. Odazi does his part from the shadows, I do mine more openly."

Kakix laughed, "What part do you do aside from selling simpering anecdotes to the rabble?"

"Have you ever heard of jazz, Mr. Kakix?" Kakix shook his head no. "I thought not. It's not a musical form the Sydraxians would appreciate -- it's human. Your species is used to concerts, conductors, everything in its orderly place, following standardized sheet music. But a lot of jazz is improvisational, made on the fly. People give and take, solos sometimes going to who has the guts and sometimes, the loudest instrument. Your Hierarchy is no longer an Orchestra, it is a jazz band. And I understand jazz. I will twist the neutrals towards us and with only a little luck," She tapped him on the chest, "The bulk of the Vanguard as well."

Kakix stared down at where she'd tapped him, then snapped his eyes back up to her, "A cute metaphor, Miss Cheret, but not entirely reassuring."

She smiled wider, which only made Oul suspect something terrible was coming, "Alright, Kakix. If that metaphor didn't satisfy, let me be more blunt. Have you heard of Glinn Kusov and VIPR team?"

Kakix nodded suspiciously, "They are the training unit for the Bajorans."

"Wrong. They are the Cardassian regime change unit and training unit. They tear you down and build you up again. Some of the finest soldiers in the entire Union call that unit home, and Kusov is one of the best of those. They went in first, before the transition even took place, and secured Sorje's palace. No casualties on their end, eighteen Bajoran oppressors killed. Sorje escaped more due to luck, of course. His son died from a grenade, though, trying to resist. Or so they say." She examined her nails, "I remember you have several children…"

Kakix's hand was up in a flash, claws extended, grabbing for Cheret's face. It stopped short of the skin, and Cheret glanced up from her nails with a smirk, "You seem quite upset, Hierarch. Odazi told me you have a temper, but I'm afraid it's impossible to discuss things rationally with you when you become this emotional."

Kakix dropped his arm in a huff, "So it's threats, then."

"It doesn't have to be," Oul interjected, "Not if you continue to cooperate."

Kakix stared between them for a while, then with a lurch continued down the path, "Very well," he said, "But if it does not go to plan, I expect a seat on your evacuation shuttle."

"Of course," Oul said. If it was convenient.

 

[Leila Hann]

Omake: Pride and Profit


The titanic silhouette of the Kadeshi worldship filled DaiMon Zuk's favorite viewport, almost insolently blocking out most of the stars. Until this evening, he insisted to himself, just a few more hours. If he didn't get any sign that either the Kadeshi Fleet Command or the Hu-mon Starfleet captain were willing to work with him by then, he'd write this whole encounter off as a waste of time and keep moving spinward. He'd have already done that yesterday, truth be told, if in his soft, sentimental stupidity he hadn't listened to his...

The lounge door swished open, and Zuk heard the familiar, shuffling footsteps of his uncle. "Always keep your ears open, Zuk," the old man repeated for the fifth time since breakfast as he came in and sat down across the conference table. His dry, wrinkly lips were pulled back in that almost dazed smile that increasingly made Zuk wonder if the old man really was still all there.

"I haven't yet closed them," Zuk said, rather more coldly than he'd intended, "but so far, I haven't heard anything to suggest they could be convinced to trade their replicator technology."

Across the table, Ior shook his head, showing his dulled, yellowing teeth as if about to laugh at him. "There are many paths to profit."

Zuk returned his gaze to the viewport and closed his eyes. When he had first secured his DaiMon position on the Greker, Ior had approached him literally the day before his scheduled departure from Ferenginar with a suitcase in hand and an expectant look on his wizened old face. When Zuk asked him why he was coming out of a decade of retirement to tag along on a long ranged exploration mission of all things, he had simply quoted the one hundred and eleventh Rule of Acquisition at him. "Treat people in your debt like family. Exploit them." When Zuk had asked exactly what that was supposed to mean in this context, and which of them Ior thought was indebted to the other, his uncle responded with the one hundred and sixty-eighth Rule - "whisper your way to success" - and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. For the life of him, Zuk wasn't sure exactly why he had acquiesced in the end, but here they were.

"They don't want luxury goods. They don't have anything exotic besides technology, which they won't sell. From what Mok's scans have told me, the Hu-Mons' sensors will almost certainly detect any attempts at unilateral trade on our part. We can get better rates for dilithium at three other places in this sector alone."

"The more time they take deciding, the more money they will spend."

"THEY DON'T EVEN USE MONEY!"

Ior's smile faded, and a look of concern replaced it. "An angry man is an enemy, and a satisfied man is an alley."

Zuk shook his head. "I'm not angry. Just frustrated, and starting to wonder if you can even keep the Rules straight in your head anymore."

Ior sat back in place and shrugged his twiglike old shoulders. "Maybe you're right. I think I might have mixed up rules seventy-one and seventy-three this morning. Here, have some gree-worms; I made this batch with some talonian sunweed extract, and I think it gives them a more pungent aftertaste."

The old man placed the dish of sauteed worms on the little table. DaiMon Zuk let out a long, low sigh. Definitely senile, but at least he was in the mood to formulate original senses again. "Until this evening, uncle. If they aren't offering something else by then, we're moving on, and I'm dropping you off on the first ferengi colony we pass on our way home."

...

"Well, I hope you're satisfied with all this profit we're rolling in," Zuk growled as he stormed back into the Greker's officer lounge. "A few more volumes of astrogation, some technical mumbo-jumbo about solar flares in a system too far away for us or any of our other customers to make use of, and a copy of the Hu-Mon captain's declassified mission logs."

Ior was grinning ear to ear as he sat on the fluffiest chair at the head of the conference table, a PADD lying open in front of him.

"Three days out of our way. Three days back again. And for what?"

In response, Ior spread his hand out over the little screen and repeated "Knowledge equals profit."

"THIS IS NOT A PATH TO PROFIT YOU CRAZY OLD FOOL! THIS IS A GIANT WASTE OF TIME AND FUEL!"

Ior shook his head, the smile fading from his face. "Zuk. Look." He picked up the PADD and practically through it at his nephew. Zuk snatched it out of the air and gave it a glance. "More of the Starfleet logs?" Ior didn't answer. Just stared at him expectingly.

"Leaving the Federation's known space. Passing near a place called Gabriel." He read allowed, letting a little more sarcasm creep into his voice with each sentence. "How very profitable. Here we have a meeting with...Dylaarians?"

Zuk tapped his finger on the unfamiliar name, bringing up the little intel brief of declassified Federation diplodata.

Ten seconds passed. Then twenty. Zuk's eyes remained glued to the PADD.

Slowly, he looked up at his uncle. Ior's rheumy old eyes were glittering like high-pressure latinum.

"Dylaarians," Zuk whispered, in awe.

A moment later, the two started laughing. Harder and harder. They didn't stop until five minutes later, when both were rolling around on the floor.

 

[OneirosTheWriter]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[X][PLAN] Plan Continuity 2315
-[X] Daystrom Institute : Automated Shipsystems
-[X] Yoyodyne : 2320s Core Power
-[X] Office of Naval Architecture : 2320s Starship Armour
-[X] Caitian Frontier Police R&D : 2310s Personal Protection
-[X] Spock : 2320s Diplomacy
-[X] University of Betazed : 2320s Affiliates Research
-[X] Starfleet Medical Research Command : 2320s Preventative Care
-[X] Generic Team 3: 2310s Escort - Combat

[X][VSA] Vulcan Science Academy : 2320s Geological Sensors
[X][COMMS] Starfleet Science Academy : 2320s Decryption
[X][BOOST] Generic Team 1, Generic Team 4, Andorian Academy, Vulcan Science Academy

Starfleet Personnel Command

Admiral Sousa,

You expressed a direct interest in the following officers, and I wondered if you had any thoughts on their future assignments with the wind-down of the Arcadian War? All of them are considered among the most desired appointees in their grades and disciplines.

Dutifully,
Rear Admiral Zrai ch'Shennaryth
Director, Starfleet Personnel Command

Captain Samhaya Mrr'shan
[ ][MRR] Promote to Commodore
[ ][MRR] Leave as Captain and appoint to shore billet
[ ][MRR] Leave as Captain and appoint to starship (not available next To Boldly Go vote)

Commodore Nash ka'Sharren
[ ][NASH] Promote to Rear Admiral
[ ][NASH] Assign to Sector Task Force <Sector>
[ ][NASH] Assign to Starbase <Number>
[ ][NASH] Assign to Staff at Starfleet Command
[ ][NASH] Assign to Staff at Starfleet Operations
[ ][NASH] Assign to Staff at Starfleet Tactical


Commodore Michel Thuir
[ ][THUIR] Promote to Rear Admiral
[ ][THUIR] Assign to Sector Task Force <Sector>
[ ][THUIR] Assign to Starbase <Number>
[ ][THUIR] Assign to Staff at Starfleet Command
[ ][THUIR] Assign to Staff at Starfleet Operations
[ ][THUIR] Assign to Staff at Starfleet Tactical

Captain Straak (When his FYM ends and he is promoted to Commodore)
[ ][ROCK] Transfer to Starfleet Academy
[ ][ROCK] Transfer to Ship Design Bureau
[ ][ROCK] Transfer to Starfleet Engineering Command
[ ][ROCK] Write-in

Commodore Saavik
[ ][SAAVIK] Leave in Starfleet Tactical
[ ][SAAVIK] Assign to Starbase <Number>
[ ][SAAVIK] Assign to Task Force
[ ][SAAVIK] Transfer to Starfleet Academy

QM/N: Yes, it's a space-waifu vote.