I caught up with this story yesterday in one sitting, pretty much. It's a great story, well told, with plenty of sympathetic characters (and some not so much) and exciting action. However, taken on its own and in combination with others in the same continuity that have been posted here in the past, I've begun to see a pattern that I find somewhat disturbing.
This is a version of the Trek galaxy in which the "Godzilla Threshold" has been passed - where any action, no matter how extreme or even illegal (in the ordinary course of law), is preferable to the alternative of enslavement and/or extinction. A setting in which the term "war crime" loses all meaning (if they lose, the Good Masters aren't going to stop eating people to hold tribunals, and if they win, I sincerely doubt anyone mentioned here is going to get more than a slap on the wrist like Jim Kirk at the end of Trek IV), except perhaps as a codeword for "effective tactic". What's a little grey goo, or a Genesis torpedo, in the face of literal Armageddon, right? Besides, these are the Good Guys, fighting the good fight! Just ask them.
It's a setting where soldiers - true soldiers, not bullies and slavers and r**ists - are always right and always justified. Well-meaning civilians may wring their hands, but we are shown again and again that everything done by and to them is necessary, for the greater good. Otherwise, more people would die (often lots more). The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few (who make that sacrifice knowingly and willingly), let alone silly little things like "due process" or "rules of war" (as if you could make war follow rules). The ends truly justify the means. Those who fail to understand this, who cling to some naive and fluffy notion of how things should be, will be killed (or worse) by the terrible things that lurk outside the walls.
It's a setting where Section 31 - and others who oppose them, but employ similar methods themselves - is shown, at the end of the day, to be right.
I'm not sure yet how he'll respond to the Schrodi incident. But I think you may be impressed.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
That was the best chapter yet :eek: I couldn't tell who wrote what(although I have my suspicions) but it was seamless! And good to see discipline and officer's conduct taking the fore :cool: Admiral ch'Harrell is quickly becoming my favourite :cool:
Yeah, this could definitely be trouble. And if you read back the preceding sections in light of the last...it makes you wonder a bit, doesn't it?
Christian Gaming Community Fleets--Faith, Fun, and Fellowship! See the website and PM for more. :-) Proudly F2P.Signature image by gulberat. Avatar image by balsavor.deviantart.com.
That was the best chapter yet :eek: I couldn't tell who wrote what(although I have my suspicions) but it was seamless! And good to see discipline and officer's conduct taking the fore :cool: Admiral ch'Harrell is quickly becoming my favourite :cool:
I'm glad you liked it. It was a lot of fun to write that argument, from my side at least. :cool:
I have to say though, the character that most impressed me in that whole scene was Rusty. (Yeah, he's one of mine, but he's one of those characters that the author has absolutely no control over.)
Oh, dear.
Well, the cat's among the pigeons now. On the other hand, some of them are hawks...
That should be the end of the ugliness for a little while. We have a nice, refreshing bowl of sherbet on the menu for later tonight to cleanse your palettes.
Incidentally, if you haven't already, it might be helpful to read Sway's background story to provide some context for what's coming up.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
I'm glad you liked it. It was a lot of fun to write that argument, from my side at least. :cool:
I have to say though, the character that most impressed me in that whole scene was Rusty. (Yeah, he's one of mine, but he's one of those characters that the author has absolutely no control over.)
Very much so, and I bet, it was definitely fun to see Jesu getting called on things, but I do see what you mean about Rusty being the most impressive :cool: (On the same line, Ael is also a law unto herself...) Looking forward to what comes next :cool:
Very much so, and I bet, it was definitely fun to see Jesu getting called on things, but I do see what you mean about Rusty being the most impressive :cool: (On the same line, Ael is also a law unto herself...) Looking forward to what comes next :cool:
I mean, I know how much Rusty wanted to break down the door and split ch'Harrell in half, but he didn't do that. He just leaned against a wall and was cool as a cucumber while the admirals were yelling at each other about him. And that's after he sat through a grueling meeting he really didn't want to be in and showed up just everyone.
patrickngo actually wrote a lot of Rusty's lines in that meeting, drawing out the Security / Foreign Relations Subject-Matter Expert in him.
On the subject of ch'Harrell though, I do share Jesu's opinion that the lack of trust he places in his senior subordinate officers (with the exceptions of Berat and Strannik) is pretty inexcusable.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
Of course, the fact that he has a rollout plan and IS about to start bringing the captains in very soon seems to be missed by LaRoca--and when you look at the situation and realize that Starfleet and the CDF are BOTH infiltrated, then timing your information dispersal and watching when and how you do so makes a whole hell of a lot more sense.
What do you think "Grady" just reported, after all--not knowing some of the more...under the table stuff going on...that there has been recon under cover stories and other items quietly moved around? An enemy like this won't be caught with its pants down, of course, but it certainly can't hurt to let word go around that this is going to be another last-minute scramble with no clue what's coming, rather than a case where there HAS been coordination well beforehand? And now there's been time to let these cover stories go around.
Only late will it be clear that the "clueless" wasn't so clueless after all. LET the enemy think there's total ignorance. LET them think there's about to be an unplanned Charlie Foxtrot. It can't hurt.
Christian Gaming Community Fleets--Faith, Fun, and Fellowship! See the website and PM for more. :-) Proudly F2P.Signature image by gulberat. Avatar image by balsavor.deviantart.com.
I mean, I know how much Rusty wanted to break down the door and split ch'Harrell in half, but he didn't do that. He just leaned against a wall and was cool as a cucumber while the admirals were yelling at each other about him. And that's after he sat through a grueling meeting he really didn't want to be in and showed up just everyone.
Absolutely, that's what I thought was so cool about it, Rusty handled it better than Marq :cool:
On the subject of ch'Harrell though, I do share Jesu's opinion that the lack of trust he places in his senior subordinate officers (with the exceptions of Berat and Strannik) is pretty inexcusable.
I've got a slightly different thought on that.. Andorians can be pretty paranoid about stuff, and given that this is an Andorian who clearly appreciates the Cardassian ethos, it didn't strike me as unusual. I wouldn't like to say how much ch'Harrell embraces Cardassian culture, such as how Marcus fully embraced the Vulcan Way, but he clearly has an understanding and an affinity for it, so I see ch'Harrell's behaviour as quite 'normal' (although obviously not by Human Standards )
And re: recent entry, indeed, a perfect coda to the previous chapter :cool:
And re: recent entry, indeed, a perfect coda to the previous chapter :cool:
Thanks
I was afraid I might have gone "too cute" with N'Kkitt in places (with lines like "That's impossa-bubble" or "I'm sure Gorn'a miss you, Sway" - I can never pass up a good Gorn joke. :P) But I'm glad you thought it was good.
On a side note, this was in no way intended to redeem Jesu LaRoca in the readers eyes. I had actually blocked out and written most of his dialogue with N'Kkitt before we ever got into the big argument in the preceding chapter.
Jesu's contempt for the bounds of formality and the flagrant disrespect he shows for authority is a real and significant part of his personality. The genuine love he has for children - especially abused children and orphans - happens to be another major part. Looking at either (or both) in no way provides a complete picture of who he is as a person. As complicated an individual as he seems to be in this story, he's even more complicated than that.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
I was afraid I might have gone "too cute" with N'Kkitt in places (with lines like "That's impossa-bubble" or "I'm sure Gorn'a miss you, Sway" - I can never pass up a good Gorn joke. :-P) But I'm glad you thought it was good.
On a side note, this was in no way intended to redeem Jesu LaRoca in the readers eyes. I had actually blocked out and written most of his dialogue with N'Kkitt before we ever got into the big argument in the preceding chapter.
Jesu's contempt for the bounds of formality and the flagrant disrespect he shows for authority is a real and significant part of his personality. The genuine love he has for children - especially abused children and orphans - happens to be another major part. Looking at either (or both) in no way provides a complete picture of who he is as a person. As complicated an individual as he seems to be in this story, he's even more complicated than that.
Yes and no... (in terms of cuteness, but I thoroughly enjoyed it) If that had been the entire tone of the last 17 pages, then yes, it would've been too much, but in these occasions, it worked well to raise the mood of the piece. As described overpage, it was a palate-cleanser :cool:
I don't think Jesu really needs 'redeeming', per se, as I think he's fine as he is, and has real depth. It was fun to see him called out, simply because it's fun to see characters accustomed to getting their own way being called out. Much like in one of the Trek novels (I forget the title and character name) but then Enterprise-E's new Vulcan counsellor pretty much launches a mutiny against Picard and co for his flaunting of the rules and cult of personality. Of course, plot demands that they be put down and Picard's plan goes ahead, but she was in the right, and it was fun to see someone standing up to Picard. That's why it was fun to see ch'Harrell standing up to Jesu. I'd say he's as badass as Ssharki, but in a very different way :cool:
Another head hangs lowly
Child is slowly taken
And the violence caused such silence
Who are we mistaken?
But you see, it's not me
It's not my family
In your head, in your head
They are fighting
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head, in your head
They are crying
In your head
In your head
Zombie, zombie
Zombie
What's in your head
In your head
Zombie, zombie
Zombie?
Another mother's breakin'
Heart is taking over
When the violence causes silence
We must be mistaken
It's the same old theme
Since nineteen-sixteen
In your head in your head
They're still fighting
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head, in your head
They are dying
In your head
In your head
Zombie, zombie
Zombie
What's in your head
In your head
Zombie, zombie
Zombie?
API Campus, 5 June, 2412, 0800 Hours local time...
"...there will be a memorial assembly for the students killed during the attacks on the twenty-eighth after lunch time." Lisa paused.
"It's normal, I guess," Sel told her. "I mean, it's never happened before, so I guess it's normal."
Lisa shook her head. "Kind of late," she said. "Besides, memorials are for families. This is just reopening wounds. It's already been a week, I can't believe it took this long to reopen the school, and they're going to spend half the day revisiting what shut it down?"
"You're ****ing cold, you know that?" Sel scolded. "People are still hurting inside!"
"This won't make them feel better," Lisa said. "Just gonna remind them what's gone, what they lost." The two girls walked into the main building.
"Oh, it's better to just shove it into a box and forget it?" Sel demanded. "Seriously?"
Lisa shrugged. "Worked for me, mostly," she said.
"You don't have to listen to your nightmares," Sel told her. "This is how healthy societies deal with grief and tragedies."
"What, wallowing in it?" Lisa asked. "Doesn't sound healthy to me... hey, Jurram."
The boy turned around. "Hi Lisa, Sel!" he said. The VISOR replacing his ruined eyes glittered in the lighting. "You're coming to the assembly, right?" he asked.
"Isn't everyone?" Sel asked, and elbowed Lisa.
"Yeah," Lisa said.
"Cool, I'll see you there," he told them.
"Why did we do that?" Lisa asked.
"Jurram lost his brother in the athletic complex, and his dad was one of the Civil Guard killed on the emergency call," Sel told her. "Still think it's a waste of time? Besides, I think he likes you."
"I kept him from bleeding out. Of course he likes me," Lisa said. "People like people that save their lives; it's like universally socially acceptable."
"Uhm... no, not what I meant," Sel told her. "He likes you."
"Um, that is all kinds of unlikely," Lisa said. "You're the pretty one."
"With a little makeup and some attention to your appearance?" Sel countered.
"I was gonna ask about that-" Lisa undid her locker and pulled out the books for the morning classes, "-after school. I haven't gotten the hang of what to use, and those holomagazines you leave in the bathroom haven't been real useful."
One of the boys stopped by them on the way up to the Maths lab. "Sel, did you hear?"
"What?"
"Jory Ghimel's dropping out," he said. "It's all over the school - they caught one of his brothers. Turned out to be fighting for the True Way out by Goralis; the whole family's been shamed."
Lisa stopped Sel. "What?" she asked.
"The story that's going around - Jory's brother led a mutiny on one of the patrol ships at Goralis."
"Which brother?" Lisa asked.
"They're saying it's Tanak - he was a senior last year..."
"Don't believe rumours," Lisa said harshly. "Unless you think I've got a deck of cards and a string of ears somewhere. I don't think Mister Ghimel would be in the business of raising mutineers."
The boy stopped... "But why else would Jory drop out?" he asked.
"Trauma," Lisa told him. "Sometimes people can't handle traumatic events. He might not even be dropping out - he could just need the time off to get used to how close he got to something really bad happening."
He ran a hand through his hair. "Um... yeah, you're right... you don't, do you?"
"That's the problem with blown-out reputations," Lisa said. "No, I never took ears or left cards. Most of us never did that crazy ****. There were a few teams that went overboard, but they were all disciplined harshly for it - it's great stories for the media, but that's all it is..." That IS all it is...! "Tell ya what-after school we'll go by their place and see if everyone's okay - they probably got messed with harder than the neighbours did, and if they didn't, well, there's your real reason for the ugly rumours right there - jealousy."
Sel tugged Lisa's sleeve. "What?" Lisa asked.
"Maybe not today? We were going to see Professor Tarel off at the port?" Sel asked insistently.
Lisa sighed. "Right..." What's up with her? Sel turning down a chance to noodle with her boyfriend? She dismissed the suspicion - for now. "My room; see you at the lecture," Lisa said, and broke from the little group to get to her class.
SS Heart of Gold, near Breen controlled space
"Pardon me asking, sir, but just what the hell are we picking up from the Breen?" the Ferasan helmsman asked. Jacob had a fairly multinational crew on board: a few were ex-Starfleet or KDF, others civilians. All had one thing in common - wanting to help their fellow sophonts, and make money while doing it (not necessarily in that order).
"I don't know to be honest, and I didn't ask. Dr. Schrodinger wouldn't have asked me to get this stuff if it wasn't a matter of life and death," he replied from the captains chair, a troubled look on his face. He knew, well not much about the Breen. Oh, he knew they were buying the frozen drink machines his company had offered for sale as fast as they could make them; you'd think someone used to such cold conditions would have invented frozen margaritas on their own. But really knowing them? It was a market that with that one exception, he hadn't managed to get too far into yet.
"We're picking something up; it's the Breen transport we were told to meet. We're being hailed, Captain," Yattaran said, the first officer monitoring for threats.
Jacob sat up, straightening his collar. "All right, it's showtime."
USS Raven, .5 light years away
Captain James Randall watched the feed from the long range sensors. The Raven was one of the few Starfleet escorts that had a cloaking device, often used in missions such as this one, investigating possible weapons smugglers. They'd been monitoring this spot for a few weeks now - but other than a few known Breen smuggler and pirate ships meeting up but never actually leaving Breen territory, there was nothing really actionable. Until now.
"Have you gotten an ID on that civilian ship yet?"
"Coming up now, sir - Heart of Gold, Risan registry, owned by Polecat Industries - hell, this guy seems above board, sir. There's zero violations in the records for that company - though it's only been around a few years."
"So what's he doing meeting with known smugglers?" the Bajoran XO asked curiously.
"Well, being we can't do much to the Breen, as soon as the ships separate follow the corvette - once they're back in international space, we'll board and ask him ourselves."
They waited. Scanning the transporter signals between the two ships Randall knew there was something no good going on. He'd done a bit more reading on the owner of the ship as he waited - people like this 'Jacob Evans', who spent their time acquiring things and money, disgusted him. Humans following old ways, like Ferengi. Something else he detested--they shouldn't even be allowed in Federation space. They were better than that now.
"They're breaking away, sir," the helmsman reported. "Breen ship is headed back into their territory."
"Move us into position, as soon as the 'trader' is in neutral space, drop the cloak and command them to stand down and prepare for inspection."
Heart of Gold
Jake had the cargo stowed, and double secured. He wasn't sure if it was explosive (knowing Schrodi, that was a good possibility - he remembered her coffee machine back in Paragon City) or not, but it was always better to be sure. He had Yattaran going over it to find out what it was as well in case there was any special handling that was required-
"Oh, ****!" He looked up at the helmsman's exclamation, as a Sao Paulo-class escort decloaked off of the bow.
"SS Heart of Gold, you are ordered to cut your engines and stand down to be boarded for inspection," came over the comm.
"Their shields are up, and they have weapons lock..."
"We don't have time for this," Jacob muttered, as the comm chirped from the XO down in the hold. "Sir, I heard that - and if they board us... well what the Breen gave us is one of the few life-sentences the Federation has. We've got twenty-nine-point-seven tons of 原問題."
"Horticulture?"
"No, 原問題 - look, it doesn't matter what it is, if the Federals find this, we're humped!"
"Dammit." They really didn't have time for this. "Kei," he said, turning to the human woman at the science station, "stand by on the wake generator. Scout-pilot, this is gonna be your show - I don't care if we trade paint with them, but set your course right down their throat - and engage slipstream on my mark."
Everyone on the bridge tightened their seat restraints, something that most military ships did not have for some reason. Budgetary, probably.
Taking a deep breath, he gave the order. "Let's moon 'em."
USS Raven
The maneuver caught them off guard - The Raven had been expecting just a fat dumb trader in over his head - not someone who obviously read the Seventy Maxims: in this case number 27 - Don't be afraid to be the first to resort to violence. The ship bucked from the subspace turbulence the Corvette generated, which somehow bled into normal space. Then the hull of the Raven actually rang like a bell as the Corvette bounced off the hull, the two ships colliding as the Heart of Gold attempted to escape.
If they'd been at warp--or even full impulse--that would have been it for us! Even at maximum the deflector couldn't have blunted that much of the impact at that point.
But the captain couldn't afford to stand there staring for long. "Tractor beams, fire aft torpedoes!"
"Tractor... missed sir - they went to slipstream!"
"WHAT? That's impossible; civilian ships don't have slipstream drive!"
He could see it himself, though - the corvette was gone, and by the time its subspace wake had dissipated enough for the Raven to come about, there was nothing he could do to catch them. "Send a message to the nearest Starbase - FLASH traffic. I've got a bad feeling about this."
USS Devilfish, medical bay - 5 June, 1117 hours
"Yes, definitely," LCdr. Dr. Hydik declared. "This is the third time I've run the test. The odds of getting a false positive three times in a row are so astronomically small as to be nonexistent."
Cmdr. Dakir looked at her stomach. "Dammit."
"So... who's the father?" the Deltan CMO inquired with a playful raise of his eyebrows.
Nellie pressed her fingertips to pressure points in the scaled ridges around her face. "It could only have been Woody."
"Wudro? Hmm. I was not expecting that."
Nell glared at the doctor. "Who were you expecting?"
"I don't know, but certainly not Wudro." The Deltan rubbed his bald head. "You've been best friends since first grade-"
"I know."
"I'm sure you developed strong feelings for each other..."
"Exactly. All that repressed desire, screaming for an outlet, and then one night two months ago, it was finally released."
Dr. Hydik was about to make a remark about "sexually immature species," but he caught himself. Instead he asked "So what are you going to do now?"
"About the fetus? Abort it, obviously."
"Don't you think you should discuss it with Wudro?"
"What's to discuss?" Dakir asked. "We're not getting married. We're not even dating. One night of indescretion does not equal a child-raising relationship."
"It is of course, up to you," Hydik said, "but I still think you should talk to Wudro. Then I would like to conduct a transphasic scan to show you what your baby looks like now. That may change your mind about terminating its life."
Nell frowned. "Fine, I'll talk to Woody... but... dammit. Two months..." She knew that this far along, the fetus would be pretty well developed, but... "I'm a starship captain! I can't be a mother! Dammit..."
"I know it's difficult," Hydik offered. "This is the biggest decision of your life so far. It's not one to be rushed, or taken lightly. Talk to Wudro. Sleep on it. Watch the scan tomorrow. Sleep on it again."
"Right. Lucky thing I don't have any other decisions to make for the next few days..." Nell hopped off the biobed. "I'll talk to Woody right after I swing by the mess hall - suddenly I'm dying for a jumja stick..."
Andak Preparatory Institute, Andak Province, 1130 hours...
Sel sat in the lecture while Professor Tarel finished the lecture, but her mind wasn't there.
Lisa didn't see him. Sel remembered seeing Jory run out of the library past her cousin, fleeing because he was sure he would die.
Lisa didn't see him. She doesn't know. Sel remembered watching Lisa from the corner of the stairwell as she killed them, as she cut a man's head off, screaming. She didn't see him.
Overhearing Lisa's taunts, her promise to let the last one go.
She didn't see his face... but Sel had.
She'd seen him, she'd seen how terrified he was.
Why didn't I turn him in? It didn't make any sense. But it made perfect sense why Jory wasn't coming back to school.
I thought she let him go because she knew who he was, but she didn't know! Sel stole a glance at her cousin, who was paying rapt attention as Professor Tarel described what was known of Hebitian customs.
She didn't know, but I know... Sel tried to focus. I have to keep them apart - at least until I know what's in Jory's heart.
CDF HQ, 5 June, 2412, 1200 hours local time...
Retired Gul Elim Makbar pressed an isochip into the player. Lisa had given Luus a copy; this was the original.
Sa'kat watched the imagery. "Where did you get this?" he asked. "Was it leaked? Does the True Way have more spies here?"
Makbar shook his head. "Not from your office, but thank you for confirming that our intelligence services are not completely incompetent." He turned and sat down. "My great granddaughter brought it with her from Moab." He fixed the Oralian with a hard look. "I assume the reason we're not seeing frantic preparations and reserve call-ups is because you have this situation under control?"
Sa'kat looked at the old man. With an enemy like the one that would emerge from that rift, if there was more force to be had--or insurance against further weakening what they did have--well, he owed it to his people to listen, no matter how much grief Makbar had given him...and publicly...before. "What do you want?" he asked.
"I want to know what you need, who needs to be pressured in the Detapa Council, who needs to be distracted, and what favors I should be calling in to ensure that you have everything possible to contain this threat," Makbar stated. "I'm here to ask you, what can I do for you in order to defend Cardassia."
"Your 'favours' always come with attachments," Sa'kat stated levelly.
"I covered for your... beliefs back then, didn't I?" Makbar scolded. "Yes, the strings on this one should be familiar enough - you tell me what you need done, I do it - until you implied my... son was the source, I was half able to convince myself she'd been brainwashed!" He pointed at the report playing out. "But you confirmed the nightmare scenario is neither fantasies from a teenaged girl, nor from a deranged political cult aligned to the Klingons. You confirmed it was real - and that means the only 'attachment' I want is your word that you'll do everything to prevent the nightmare scenario from happening here - the only thing I expect, or want, is that you do your duty, and tell me how to help you succeed in doing it."
"Who else have you shown this to?" Sa'kat asked.
"I've shown it to no one else... yet," Elim said. "Lisa... gave a copy to Luus; she told him what the Orions' plans were."
"So... the True Way finds out anyway." Sa'kat closed his eyes. "Damn." He opened his eyes. "Why did she do that?"
"Because she'd slaughtered over a dozen of his men at the school," Elim said levelly. "She's the 'student' in your reports who resisted successfully, she told me... get this... that he looked like her deceased, Moabite Uncle Michael... she wants to recruit him to help fight these things."
* * *
Legate Sa'kat waited for Makbar to leave. "Computer, foreign intelligence files, Alien Nationals, cross reference 'Lisa Makbar', 'Michael Makbar', Moab Three, Moab Confederation Armed Forces Discharge and Service records. Display on my desktop."
The file on 'Michael' proved futile - there was no such person. However... "Michael Quhon" held imagery of an MCDF officer-an infantry captain. The man could have almost passed on the streets of Cardassia Prime as Cardassian, except for the lack of certain skeletal features and the very diminished ridge structures around his eyes.
Lisa's file was thicker - she'd been gene-surgically 'reverted' only a few weeks ago, but her service record was long on content. "Oralius..." The girl had been in near continuous military service since joining a rebel group, had participated in their war of independence against Orion slavers, had gone into fluidic space with the Son Tay task force, had been present at the Battle of Moab, had fought in the urban clearing combat after that, wiping out Fek'Lhri in Moab's cities, then gone to Betazed, and been decorated... before going to Earth to... oh, this was interesting.
"I think I may need to talk with Berat about this one..." The guard's report from the API hostage incident suddenly made a lot more sense.
Oralius help us, now I know why Berat was so furious during the tribunal, about what those people do to children! They took her and made her into a killing machine!
"Flag Lisa Makbar as a potential security threat, eyes only this office, Level Four." She could be an agent, she could be dangerous, she could be so traumatized she might become dangerous... she could be everything she claims to be... but I can't take that risk, and even if she wants to get past the violence, she has made some mortal enemies among the True Way, and they are likely to try and strike at her, regardless... "Wait, Level Three." Can't hurt to have eyes on the ground watching her. Something else...
"Cross reference Lisa Makbar, Moab Marine Corps units. Are there any of her fellows in the Union at this time?"
A list of personnel assigned to companies A, B, and C of the 2nd Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment scrolled. Notations showed the unit had arrived in Cardassian space recently, and was at present billeted temporarily on Starbase 75-Tau, except for five names assigned to the MDCF Xiao Loc...
"Well, this could be good, or this could be bad." There is no such thing as coincidence when it's this obvious.
API Campus, 1200 hours, 5 June, 2412...
Lisa joined everyone at the auditorium, but while the other students looked up to the stage, she watched nervously at the entrances.
This would be the perfect time for the lunatics to attack again. It wasn't 'hypervigilance' and she knew it wasn't paranoia. Paranoia on Lisa Makbar's part didn't put Civil Guard soldiers at the exits, and the bomb scanners weren't there because of her own hypervigilance.
They were there because someone else also thought that this would be an ideal place and time for the True Way to do something to the students at a school they nearly shut down with their political violence.
As she walked in, Proctor Leng stopped her. "Lisa, didn't you get the message?" the Galactic History professor asked.
"Message?" Lisa asked.
"You're supposed to be up on stage," Leng told her.
"Why? I didn't know any of them," Lisa told her. "Why should I go up there? I'm only here because everyone's supposed to be here."
"The city governor... he's going to recognize what you did," Leng told her. "You didn't read your P-Mail again."
"I got busy - ma'am, it's wrong," Lisa told her. "I did what had to be done; it's not something you hand out recognition for!" Lisa's throat felt constricted. She unconsciously tugged at the neckline of her blouse, and the whole area seemed to be tightening down on her. "Why me? Three guys died. This is about them!"
"The city governor-"
Lisa twisted away. "No... No. I won't. I don't feel well, I'm going home today!" She backed out the door. "I'm not going up there! Not to get a ****ing medal for killing! That life is done! I'm OUT, dammit! Give a medal to the cops; they deserve it!"
"Lisa-"
Lisa ran for the doors, for outside, past the hallway with the stains she'd made, up the stairwell with its fresh-painted surface, and the patched holes, and the faint pink that they didn't quite get out of the marble flooring, and out the door into the outside.
"Lisa! Hey, wait up!" she heard, and turned.
Jurram was huffing. "Wait..."
"You shouldn't be running," Lisa told him. "You're still recovering from getting your lungs perforated." She stopped.
"Why did you freak?" he asked.
She closed her eyes. "Don't know," she told him. "I just... didn't..."
"I know what you mean." he said. "The city governor's using this for a photo op," he said. "Politics is all it is."
"Do you guys ever cut classes?" Lisa asked him.
"Um... yeah. Didn't you?" he asked. "I don't do it often - but I know a few places..."
"Oh, thank God! Something normal!" Lisa said. "Let's ditch the rest of the day and go someplace fun."
"Really?" he asked disbelieving.
"Yeah. Let them do their dog-and-pony show without us; the academic day's been screwed anyway."
CDF Basarrus June 6, 1530 Hours, Cardassia prime system.
The crew had gotten most of the blood off the deck and the bridge was repressurized, but there was still carbon scoring and a lingering, invisible, sense of shock in this place.
The worst of it all was that the repairs had come as a result of Cardassians doing violence to other Cardassians. And even with Legate Sa'kat's endorsement and a week's worth of filling the role, Gul Tos Makbar still didn't feel so much like a starship commander, as an executive officer trying to fill bigger shoes. Working the repairs, and working with Captain Strannik from the 77th helped some - but the new chair and the refurbished consoles didn't stop Tos from remembering the old Gul's position, or his late commander. It wasn't Temor's chair anymore--figuratively or literally. But that didn't make it any easier to sit down.
Still, it did help to bring some sort of normalcy to this place. "We're almost finished with repairs, Captain Strannik. Pretty soon we'll be able to take over patrols," Tos said. "I assume whatever it is calling you back to Seven-Five-Tau must be important."
"There's some kind of joint exercise," Strannik said. "I guess Admiral Berat thinks we need the experience."
"Oh, the Klingon thing!" Tos said, "I heard a few CDF guls have been tasked with liaison and observer duties - so they're doing anti-Borg training after all?"
"Something like that... the Borg did crash a scout craft on a moon in the Argolis Cluster once, forty years ago, and with their activity lately... there have been a few incursions in the area." Which even included the incident where a tactical cube transwarped right out in front of the Chin'toka out in Beta Ursae. Where they had found Gul Tassok's daughter, her mind severely warped by the Borg after ten years of hell in the Collective. So odd as this potentially volatile task force and its mission was, it was not outside the realm of reason. "What've you heard?"
"Well, I was briefed that the 77th drew a short straw, under the DS9 accord, and that the Klingons wanted to run joint-anti-Borg training sims, and that a few officers from CDF were being assigned to observe the exercise," Tos said. "I wanted a billet, but with our damage... and the damage to the home fleet..."
"We'll keep an eye on them," Strannik told him. He couldn't sense much from the Cardassian even when he tried... but it wasn't necessary in order for him to see and hear what the new Gul felt.
"It's not an exercise, is it?" Tos asked. "You have that look, and if it was just an exercise, you wouldn't... they think the Borg are coming, don't they?"
"I hope that's all it is - though I have dealt with an incursion or two here. Recent."
"I just put it together, Captain - all those scanning exercises the last few months, the special patrols, the extra preparedness drills... I'll keep my trap shut," Tos said. "It is the Borg... How long do we have?"
"I have orders to return to Seventy-Five-Tau as soon as I beam back. Which means we're about to find out what's going on," Strannik replied calmly for the new gul's sake. He was worried, yes... but this wasn't the time or place to show it. And it wasn't like he'd never had to spool up for a mission on short or no notice.
"We'll be ready for them, then, sir," Gul Makbar said. "I'll make sure we're ready for them."
"Is there anything more you need to help with repair and recovery?"
"I think we're in good shape now, maybe a day longer in the dock and we'll be ready to fight," Tos said. "You be careful out there - you've been a huge help."
"No problem," Strannik replied.
"You guys really got Koheber to defect..." Tos said, as they walked to the transporter room, "or you have sufficient 'evidence' to make it look like he did?"
"I was going to bring that up... what do you think?" Strannik said.
"I think Skrain Koheber being a double agent would be fantastic - but I also think it's fantasy... but it's believable fantasy if you can produce the necessary side-evidence. I can get the men to back the play if you have something to back it with," Tos said in a quiet, canny tone. "After all, it's the kind of story I wish was true about Luus. There are people who'll believe it on our side just because it fits what they want to be true, and people on the other side who'll believe it because they're paranoid - a few testimonials here and there, some gossip, and if you can produce something that looks like evidence it could be useful."
"The first thing is the truth. He could have finished you, and the ship with you the day he defected... no offense meant, but he did get the drop on you two and some heavy blows in. But he backed off and ran. Change the motivation from cowardice or a momentary loss of nerve to a genuine refusal to kill more of his friends in the name of making his insertion look good... and you have your first selling point. Without a major lie."
"Of course," Tos said. "I'll back your play on this... because I kind of wish it was the whole truth - we were roomies at the Academy. Skrain wasn't always a fanatic."
"He still wasn't... as bad as some of the True Way types I've seen or heard of," Strannik said.
"Sometime, when this is all over, I'm going to ask you how you took him down - privately, you can tell me what the people don't need to hear then. For now, they need Skrain Koheber to be a brave man doing deep-cover work against the True Way." Tos said, "I think that's going to be a better memorial than the other side of it."
Strannik focused his gaze into Makbar's eyes. "It would have been instant for him. No time to suffer."
"That's good." Tos said, "You have an appointment to face the Borg, I'm keeping you, and we're at the transporter room. Good luck, Captain."
Strannik nodded. "To you too, Gul Makbar. Perhaps we'll meet again soon." I will keep you in my prayers, he thought. He wasn't sure how Makbar would feel about knowing that, since some Cardassians - mainstream ones, not just the True Way - still seemed ill at ease with the Oralian Way. But he would still do so anyway.
Ghimel and Sons Tailors, 1600 Hours local time...
"Sel, what are you doing here?" Mister Ghimel asked.
They were standing in front of the shop. "I'm looking for Lisa," she said. "You haven't seen her, have you? She left the assembly at school..."
"I haven't seen her, sorry. How did your family weather the chaos?" the old tailor asked.
"We did okay," Sel told him.
"What makes you suspect she'd be here?" Ghimel asked.
"She stood up for Jory in school," Sel said. "She even dared some of the boys who were saying bad things about him, said he wasn't dropping out because of... a rumour about Tanak being involved in something bad with his unit."
"Oh," Ghimel said. "Sel... Jory has been ill the last few days, but some of the rumour is true... like what happened with your father, Tanak made a... poor decision."
"I'm so sorry for you," she said.
"We will survive," Ghimel told her.
"Tell Jory to call me when he feels better," Sel said intensely, "okay? I have to figure out where Lisa went now."
"I'll do that," Ghimel told her. "Was she seen with anyone?"
Sel thought back. "Yeah, someone said Jurram was with her."
"Oh, well if I were you, I'd look down by Peace Park, then - young people often go there for privacy - or so I remember."
"Thanks." Sel waved. "I'll be by later!"
Ghimel watched her go, then stepped back into the shop. "Jory! Have you finished?" he demanded.
"Almost, Father," Jory said. "These power cells aren't quite right for this model of disruptor, though-"
"They'll do," Ghimel said. "Your little girlfriend Sel was by. You've been sick; you'll be feeling better soon. Remember that... and remember not to let her see you when you kill that half-breed cousin of hers."
"Why do I have to do it?" Jory asked.
"Because she murdered your cell-mates, because she's a half-breed, because you're afraid of her - take your pick," Ghimel told him. "Just don't get caught."
"When?" Jory asked.
"When you've finished building the active-camouflage suit," Ghimel told him. "Perhaps a week, and that assumes the movement doesn't need the resources for another mission before then. In the meantime, you're going back to school tomorrow."
"What if I'm recognized?" Jory asked. "What if she sees me again?"
"Did she look at you the first time?" Ghimel asked.
Jory closed his eyes, and re-ran it... "I don't think so."
"Then she won't, and as long as you're careful, the others won't either," Ghimel told him. "So stop worrying."
Makbar House
"Who was that, honey?" Tarel wondered as B.C. left the old Gul's study where the comm unit was.
"McLain, of course," Hawkes told her. "I don't know how he always knows where to find me..."
"What'd he want? Did you tell him we're leaving for Dee-Ess-Nine tonight?"
"It wasn't that. He just wanted me to be on the look out for a particular ship on the way."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," Hawkes sighed. "A captured True Way Keldon has turned up missing en route to Seven-Five-Tau from the Vlugta fields. Apparently the crew consists entirely of Starfleet cadets."
"Whaaa...?" Akorem Tarel shook her head to make that sink in. "Who would be so irresponsible as to allow that?"
"It could only be one person," LCdr. Hawkes muttered. "Anyway, that's all above my pay grade. It's Admiral LaRoca's problem. If we find 'em, I'm just supposed to point 'em in the right direction and follow them and call the Bradbury. But I don't think we'll find 'em. They've been out of contact a week; they have to be way outside the space lanes to get that kind of lost..."
Ex-True Way Keldon Jasad, 5 June, 2412...
"Zabu stew again?"
The Tellarite girl just looked, well, as disgusted with Senior Cadet Cambridge as she had been, well to be honest, since the day she met him. "It's nutritious, it's filling, and it's your own damn fault, moron. We'd be at 75-Tau days ago if it wasn't for you."
"My fault? How is this my fault?" Cambridge demanded. "I told you guys-"
"Oh, yeah, we were going fine till Captain Dip**** there decided the autopilot was boring, and being that he was 'in charge' and command track did not have to listen to a mere 'science geek'..." She glared at him. "And that is how it's your fault," Rena said, her blonde hair still greasy from the emergency repairs to life support. "If you had bothered to read, I know, Starfleet doesn't quite have picture books yet for comparative systems engineering, but Cardassian ships, if you shut down the autopilot without disengaging warp, it, how do they say it? It Kirks up the computer. Which controls everything on a Keldon."
Cadet Trombley stirred his bowl. "I think I'm kind of getting to like zabu stew," he said.
"Shut up Trombley!" everyone at the mess table said in unison.
Peace Park, Andak City, 1700 hours...
"...sometimes have free concerts in the evenings." Jurram said. They were sitting in the bandshell, eating street-takeout. "Mostly folk music, but sometimes there are groups playing experimental stuff."
"You like music?" Lisa asked.
"Who doesn't?" Jurram asked her rhetorically. "I mean, I'm not, oh, like Jory Ghimel, trying to replicate the old songs on a digital synth...but I can dance-sort of." He said. "I never really had time to mess with that stuff though."
"I used to play," Lisa told him. "Uncle Mike taught me guitar and drums. I'm a little bit too foot-slow for drumming though."
"You don't anymore?" he asked.
She tapped the side of her head. "Messed up now," she said. "Last time I tried, I blanked out in a panic attack... I'm seeing a counselor for it."
"I have a couple relatives who've had panics like that," Jurram told her. "My grandfather used to be a sculptor, but then Lakarian City happened - he couldn't anymore after working in a relief team."
"I want it back," Lisa told him. "Here, listen to this - I used to be able to play the lead on it..." She slid a chit into her PADD and gave him the headphones.
"What is it?" he asked a little loudly.
"Listen to it," Lisa said, emphasizing so he could read her lips with his artificial sight, over the sound flooding his ears.
"This is awesome!" he said. "Do you have more?"
She switched to speaker, and he took off the headphones.
"Yeah," Lisa said. "I've got both of their first albums, and I can play about half of it - or could, before I had the panic attacks."
"I like this! Wow..."
"It sounds better when professionals play it. I'm... I was just an amateur," Lisa confessed. "I'm not good enough to write music, but I used to be able to copy from tab pretty well."
Jurram dug into his pack. "I draw," he said. "Maybe when I get my eyes back I'll be able to do it again...I've actually had some ideas lately..."
She looked at the pages he handed her. "Dude, this is ****ing excellent! The panels flow..."
"You get it!" Jurram was elated. "I usually have to explain that the pictures tell a story."
"I love comic books. Sequential art's great," she told him. "Who's the hero?"
"A guy I made up," Jurram said. "...you really think this stuff's cool?"
"TRIBBLE yes," Lisa told him. "Your action scenes here - and here - they flow - you imply motion with the angles." She sighed. "I can't even do stick-figures, and you've got full on sense-action going in still panels... more?"
Jurram sighed. "I had some panels I was working on at home - but then I got hurt..." Jurram paused. "You have anything where you're playing?"
Lisa sighed. "Um... no," she said.
"I'll let you see my unfinished panels, but I want you to get past the panic attacks and play something for me, okay?" he said, and tentatively put his arm around her shoulders.
Lisa nodded. "Deal." She leaned into it, enjoying the closeness.
USS Devilfish - the next morning
Nell Dakir rolled over and sat up, blinking her bleary eyes. "Ungh. Computer, time?"
"The time is 0642 hours."
"Dammit." She had woken up three minutes before her alarm was set to wake her. She hated it when that happened. "Cancel -ur- wake-up alert," she said, burping up something that tasted foul mid-sentence. At least she wasn't puking.
The meds Hydik had given her helped with the nausea, but she still hadn't really slept. She'd spent half the day yesterday and most of the night trying to shake a nagging sense of guilt over what she was contemplating. It's just a simple medical procedure, she'd told herself before turning in for bed. Nothing to stress out over... yeah right. Drinking a bottle of springwine before bed would have helped, but... she patted her stomach. "That's another strike against you."
She knew plenty of female Starfleet officers who'd had abortions, usually after having spent a fun night - or week - on Risa. I've never even set foot on Risa. This sucks. And the sex with Woody wasn't even that good.
She went to the head, took a shower, brushed her teeth and got dressed. She wondered how long it would be before she needed new uniforms. Two months out of eleven, but that's for Cardassians. The kid's half-Bajoran, and they only take five months... figure eight, split the difference?
She sighed. I need to talk to Woody. Prophets help me...
* * *
LCdr. Eliut Wudro had just stepped out of the sonic shower when his door chimed. "Come in!" he said as he wrapped a towel around himself before coming out of the head to greet his visitor. "Captain! What can I do for you?"
"I have something to tell you, Woody," Nell said. "You'd better sit down."
He did. "What is it?"
"Well, there's no good way to say it, so I'll just say it: I'm pregnant, and it's yours."
"WHAT?!?" Eliut jumped up so fast he left his towel behind. "Sorry, Captain, I-"
"Don't worry about it. It's nothing I haven't seen before," she said slyly. "And drop the 'Captain' nonsense. This is serious, Woody."
"Right, um." Eliut repositioned his towel and sat down. A million thoughts and emotion were rushing through his mind, and then one that kept rising to the top was I'm gonna be a father!? "What are we going to do about this?" he finally asked after he managed to calm down a little.
"I was thinking I should just abort the fetus."
"WHAT?!?" He jumped up again, this time holding the towel so he didn't expose himself to his CO. "You can't DO that! You can't cut a Bajoran baby out of his mother without killing them both!"
"I'm not Bajoran though," Dakir pointed out. "It used to be common practice among Cardassians to abort defective children-"
"Our baby is not defective!" Wudro snapped. He paused. "He's not, is he?"
"I don't know yet. Dr. Hydik is still running a genetic profile," Nellie told him. "What makes you so sure it's a 'he?'"
"I dunno, just a... feeling, I guess." On Wudro's first trip back to Bajor after graduating from Starfleet Academy, his father, a ranjen, had arranged for his first and only Orb experience with the Orb of Contemplation. He knew better than to put much stock in the Prophets' vague revelations, but he came away from the experience with a definite sense that he would only have one child, and it would be a son.
"I don't want you to abort him," Eliut Wudro said firmly. "I know it's ultimately up to you, Nellie, and I'll accept any decision you make, but... I'd rather that you carried him to term. Give him a chance at life."
Nell sighed. "How could we raise him, though? I mean, I'm a starship captain, you're a security officer - neither of those careers bode well for our lifespans right now... and this ship is no place for a child..."
"I'll resign," Woody declared. "I'll resign my commission and raise our baby. By myself, if it comes down to it."
Nell bit her lip. "Lemme tell you what Hydik told me. This is a big decision - the biggest of our lives, perhaps. There's no need to rush things."
"There's nothing to rush," Wudro told her. "I've been preparing myself for this moment ever since dad gave me 'the talk.' I'm responsible for that life inside of you every bit as much as you are." He gave her a resolved nod. "My mind was made up years ago. This is right."
Nell felt crushed by the weight of his conviction. "I, uh... I still need more time to think things through."
"I understand. Take your time." Woody shuffled his feet. "Could I... see him, before you decide?"
"Of course," she said looking at his feet. "Dr. Hydik wants to run a transphasic scan tomorrow. I'll double-check the time, and let you know." She looked up at his face. "And I will inform you as soon as I've made my decision, one way or the other."
He smiled. "Thanks, Nellie." He glanced at the chronometer. "I need to get dressed - shift starts in half an hour..."
6 June 2412... 12 days, 13 hours until R-Hour
"Honor Guard, post!" crackled over the commsets. On the dusty surface of the third moon of Goralis VI, a group of MCDF in full EVA suits stood before six open holes scraped into the surface.
In each hole was a torpedo casing with a flag draped over it. There was something brooding in the silent vacuum of the airless moon.
Parin watched from the shuttle, as they carried the casings to the graves. It was a temporary measure-the bodies couldn't be shipped home yet, and this was well away from the predicted sites of combat.
Colonel Trung's voice came over the channel; Parin could barely distinguish the man's armor at the head of the formation. "I guess I'm supposed to say some inspirational words now, using phrases like patriotism, or duty, or God... but you all know your duty, we're all here for the same purpose, and not everyone has the same god, or sees the same god in the same way. These are our friends, our shipmates, for some of us, the only thing like family we've got left - and they're gone now. Gone to join our families, our friends, our comrades who've gone beyond the veil and will not walk this way again. When we enlist, we accept the charge that some of us may die so that others may live." Trung's voice was level, but even Parin could sense the tremor in it over the channel.
They were burying their dead in the sterile soil of an airless moon, because the nearest class-M planet was Goralis... Cardassians, like Moabites and unlike many in the Federation, buried their dead. And in the eyes of the Cardassian public, even if not so much in the eyes of Parin, these were the enemy fallen. But there was another enemy they had to consider too. Only a few of the Fek could survive here to desecrate their graves. Not so on Goralis itself if they failed.
They dared not fail.
"These seven people: Staff Sergeant Jeremy Rorke, Lieutenant Alyssa Baine, Lieutenant Chan Rhee, Sergeant Evelyn Rozhenko, Corporal Sean McConnell, Lance Corporal Rebekah Chun, Private Steven Allanson, have done their duty, and now rest their heads in the presence of their god, and their families, never to know war, pain, or sorrow again. Their work is done; our work is just begun."
Trung stepped off the improvised speaking platform, picked up a shovel, and tossed the first dirt in to each grave, before giving the shovel to the next man. This continued as each member of the Xiao Loc's company dropped a scoop of lunar dirt into each of the graves. As each one finished, they handed the shovel to the next, and returned to the formation.
"Detail, present...ARMS!"
Seven soldiers raised rifles into the eternal night.
"Fire!"
Seven muzzle flashes flickered silently as casings dropped, each creating little dust puffs of their own.
"Fire!"
The silence was unnerving - just the muzzle flash, and the puff of dust.
"Fire!"
The last flashes.
Over the channel, a voice, mellow and harmonious and live - though even this constrained by the headset equipment - began...
"To fallen soldiers let us sing
Where no rockets fly nor bullets wing
Our broken brothers let us bring
To the Mansions of the Lord
No more weeping
No more fight
No friends bleeding through the night
Just Divine embrace
Eternal light
In the Mansions of the Lord
Where no mothers cry
And no children weep
We shall stand and guard
Though the angels sleep
Oh, through the ages let us keep
The Mansions of the Lord"
-Randall Wallace
"Order, ARMS!" The graves were filled in, and marked with stone piles. The men stood in formation again.
"Dismissed." And the suited figures filed back to the shuttles that would return them to the Outpost. The rifle detail stepped in formation, and planted the rifles, one per grave, bayonet extended, at the head of each grave, and placed a helmet--in four of the cases, the grave-owners. The other three were generic replications because there had been none to recover. Finally at each grave the detail sat a pair of boots with the tags, to identify the occupants.
It felt like such a pale tribute this time to Trung once the last member of the rifle detail stepped aboard the shuttle and the hatch slid closed. Pale even compared to the services held at mass graves after the slaughter on Moab. For here, in the frigid silence of the lunar vacuum, only death could truly receive its honors. Not life.
How Trung hoped they would live long enough to bring them home and give the lives of these soldiers their due.
* * * To Be Continued... * * *
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
- Major characters written by takeshi6 are drawn from the anime series Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha and are not casted.
- Major characters written by gulberat are not casted, at the author's preference
- Feel free to suggest casting for anyone we left out! (or anyone we cast if you have a better idea. )
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
We have now hit the midpoint-Intermission time. While we prepare the cast page, comments are welcome, including speculations, rumours and arguments.
Fantastic work thus far, especially the refining the professionalism of some characters (Quite funny about Lisa not having a string of ears and deck of cards ) and I'm looking forward to seeing what happens to Schrodi :cool: (although I wonder if the Iconian gizmos she put into a star may have been crucial)
I don't really like him. He was alright in Cloud Atlas but I first saw him in 21, in which he broke one of Hollywood's unwritten rules and tried to upstage Kevin Spacey.
Garrett Hedlund, on the other hand, played Jeff Bridges' kid in Tron: Legacy and owned the role of a young man stepping up to his responsibilities and commitments. He and Woody are one of those cases where an actor and a role actually inspire one of my characters, if that makes sense.
I do plan to showcase her more in the coming battles than I did last two times around, where for sake of plot I needed to remove her from the bridge right before things started to get really heavy. I think she'll be making her first appearance very soon.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
I don't really like him. He was alright in Cloud Atlas but I first saw him in 21, in which he broke one of Hollywood's unwritten rules and tried to upstage Kevin Spacey.
:eek: That's just not cricket !! Equally, I was thinking of his role in Cloud Atlas, where he befriended the slave, and then stood up to his father in law, as a kind of inner-strength one might not always attribute to a younger man. That said...
Garrett Hedlund, on the other hand, played Jeff Bridges' kid in Tron: Legacy and owned the role of a young man stepping up to his responsibilities and commitments. He and Woody are one of those cases where an actor and a role actually inspire one of my characters, if that makes sense.
I totally understand what you mean there, and likewise, that performance inspired the cameo of Drew Mason in The Spires (who almost became Mister Palmer, had the Borg not got in the way) Equally, Peta Wilson's performance in La Femme Nikita inspired much of Cameron's early development, and the 'look' of the Pentaxians.
I do plan to showcase her more in the coming battles than I did last two times around, where for sake of plot I needed to remove her from the bridge right before things started to get really heavy. I think she'll be making her first appearance very soon.
Awesome, I'll look forward to her appearances :cool:
Absolutely loved the Kobheerian shopkeeper, I hope he spends the five lek well And a promotion for H'mL'n too :cool:
Yeah, well, it had been a year. Anybody who can survive a year under LaRoca's command has earned a promotion (unless he's a scrappy little troublemaker like Bobby Kunicki.)
To quote the Human:
"Hell's yeah!!" ^_^ And all because some dude tried to buy H'mL'n a drink
Always good to see the word 'maiming' used too
Toreno: "Carl, do you like maiming people? Just curious."
CJ: "Maiming? Some people, sure."
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
Yeah, well, it had been a year. Anybody who can survive a year under LaRoca's command has earned a promotion
She certainly seems more integrated and settled, a bit like the transition of Brian Schwartz in Porky's and Porky's II, from outsider to part of the gang
Inspired be the character of similar name in Grease?
Actually Allan Bobby Kunicki is part of the starter duty officer pack in-game. He's a common-quality assault squad officer - in other words, a redshirt who should die immediately upon beamdown in his first away mission. But for whatever reason, my Allan Bobby Kunicki is magic. I can send him on the most extreme-risk away missions and he always comes back alive. And more often then not, his missions result in a critical success.
Every other common DOff LaRoca has ever picked up has been fed into the fleet holdings meat grinder, but I can't bring myself to ever get rid of Kunicki. He's the luckiest and scrappiest redshirt ever.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
I don't know if it's just me, but the more I read of him, the more LaRoca reminds me of John Sheridan from Babylon 5: a career military man with a laid back command style, a willingness to bend the rules, and a dread reputation among his enemies. Of course, given my username, maybe I'm biased.
Definitely liking this so far. I'm very curious to see how the friction between the differing Starfleet crews is going to go-- doubly so if the Undine try to exploit it, or if relatively sane captains like Strannik become embroiled in it.
Actually Allan Bobby Kunicki is part of the starter duty officer pack in-game. He's a common-quality assault squad officer - in other words, a redshirt who should die immediately upon beamdown in his first away mission. But for whatever reason, my Allan Bobby Kunicki is magic. I can send him on the most extreme-risk away missions and he always comes back alive. And more often then not, his missions result in a critical success.
Every other common DOff LaRoca has ever picked up has been fed into the fleet holdings meat grinder, but I can't bring myself to ever get rid of Kunicki. He's the luckiest and scrappiest redshirt ever.
Ahh, now that is a pretty cool situation :cool: Perhaps he's really an Immortal
[Edit to add]
I forgot to say, I loved how Jesu upgraded his uniform with the new jacket :cool:
Comments
A lot of our characters aren't either.
Ssharki has always had the strongest moral compass out of all of my characters. For example, his reaction to the An Loc Massacre in "The Chase" and his conversation with J'mpok about the Orion Purge in "The Accused."
I'm not sure yet how he'll respond to the Schrodi incident. But I think you may be impressed.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
Well, the cat's among the pigeons now. On the other hand, some of them are hawks...
Christian Gaming Community Fleets--Faith, Fun, and Fellowship! See the website and PM for more. :-)
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I have to say though, the character that most impressed me in that whole scene was Rusty. (Yeah, he's one of mine, but he's one of those characters that the author has absolutely no control over.)
That should be the end of the ugliness for a little while. We have a nice, refreshing bowl of sherbet on the menu for later tonight to cleanse your palettes.
Incidentally, if you haven't already, it might be helpful to read Sway's background story to provide some context for what's coming up.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
I mean, I know how much Rusty wanted to break down the door and split ch'Harrell in half, but he didn't do that. He just leaned against a wall and was cool as a cucumber while the admirals were yelling at each other about him. And that's after he sat through a grueling meeting he really didn't want to be in and showed up just everyone.
patrickngo actually wrote a lot of Rusty's lines in that meeting, drawing out the Security / Foreign Relations Subject-Matter Expert in him.
On the subject of ch'Harrell though, I do share Jesu's opinion that the lack of trust he places in his senior subordinate officers (with the exceptions of Berat and Strannik) is pretty inexcusable.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
What do you think "Grady" just reported, after all--not knowing some of the more...under the table stuff going on...that there has been recon under cover stories and other items quietly moved around? An enemy like this won't be caught with its pants down, of course, but it certainly can't hurt to let word go around that this is going to be another last-minute scramble with no clue what's coming, rather than a case where there HAS been coordination well beforehand? And now there's been time to let these cover stories go around.
Only late will it be clear that the "clueless" wasn't so clueless after all. LET the enemy think there's total ignorance. LET them think there's about to be an unplanned Charlie Foxtrot. It can't hurt.
Christian Gaming Community Fleets--Faith, Fun, and Fellowship! See the website and PM for more. :-)
Proudly F2P. Signature image by gulberat. Avatar image by balsavor.deviantart.com.
I wouldn't guessed that at all, so even more sign of how seamless the end result, and real versatility by patrickngo to tune into Rusty so well :cool:
I've got a slightly different thought on that.. Andorians can be pretty paranoid about stuff, and given that this is an Andorian who clearly appreciates the Cardassian ethos, it didn't strike me as unusual. I wouldn't like to say how much ch'Harrell embraces Cardassian culture, such as how Marcus fully embraced the Vulcan Way, but he clearly has an understanding and an affinity for it, so I see ch'Harrell's behaviour as quite 'normal' (although obviously not by Human Standards
And re: recent entry, indeed, a perfect coda to the previous chapter :cool:
Thanks
I was afraid I might have gone "too cute" with N'Kkitt in places (with lines like "That's impossa-bubble" or "I'm sure Gorn'a miss you, Sway" - I can never pass up a good Gorn joke. :P) But I'm glad you thought it was good.
On a side note, this was in no way intended to redeem Jesu LaRoca in the readers eyes. I had actually blocked out and written most of his dialogue with N'Kkitt before we ever got into the big argument in the preceding chapter.
Jesu's contempt for the bounds of formality and the flagrant disrespect he shows for authority is a real and significant part of his personality. The genuine love he has for children - especially abused children and orphans - happens to be another major part. Looking at either (or both) in no way provides a complete picture of who he is as a person. As complicated an individual as he seems to be in this story, he's even more complicated than that.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
I don't think Jesu really needs 'redeeming', per se, as I think he's fine as he is, and has real depth. It was fun to see him called out, simply because it's fun to see characters accustomed to getting their own way being called out. Much like in one of the Trek novels (I forget the title and character name) but then Enterprise-E's new Vulcan counsellor pretty much launches a mutiny against Picard and co for his flaunting of the rules and cult of personality. Of course, plot demands that they be put down and Picard's plan goes ahead, but she was in the right, and it was fun to see someone standing up to Picard. That's why it was fun to see ch'Harrell standing up to Jesu. I'd say he's as badass as Ssharki, but in a very different way :cool:
On a personal note, needs moar H'mL'n
Another head hangs lowly
Child is slowly taken
And the violence caused such silence
Who are we mistaken?
But you see, it's not me
It's not my family
In your head, in your head
They are fighting
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head, in your head
They are crying
In your head
In your head
Zombie, zombie
Zombie
What's in your head
In your head
Zombie, zombie
Zombie?
Another mother's breakin'
Heart is taking over
When the violence causes silence
We must be mistaken
It's the same old theme
Since nineteen-sixteen
In your head in your head
They're still fighting
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head, in your head
They are dying
In your head
In your head
Zombie, zombie
Zombie
What's in your head
In your head
Zombie, zombie
Zombie?
Dolores O'Riordan of The Cranberries - "Zombie"
API Campus, 5 June, 2412, 0800 Hours local time...
"...there will be a memorial assembly for the students killed during the attacks on the twenty-eighth after lunch time." Lisa paused.
"It's normal, I guess," Sel told her. "I mean, it's never happened before, so I guess it's normal."
Lisa shook her head. "Kind of late," she said. "Besides, memorials are for families. This is just reopening wounds. It's already been a week, I can't believe it took this long to reopen the school, and they're going to spend half the day revisiting what shut it down?"
"You're ****ing cold, you know that?" Sel scolded. "People are still hurting inside!"
"This won't make them feel better," Lisa said. "Just gonna remind them what's gone, what they lost." The two girls walked into the main building.
"Oh, it's better to just shove it into a box and forget it?" Sel demanded. "Seriously?"
Lisa shrugged. "Worked for me, mostly," she said.
"You don't have to listen to your nightmares," Sel told her. "This is how healthy societies deal with grief and tragedies."
"What, wallowing in it?" Lisa asked. "Doesn't sound healthy to me... hey, Jurram."
The boy turned around. "Hi Lisa, Sel!" he said. The VISOR replacing his ruined eyes glittered in the lighting. "You're coming to the assembly, right?" he asked.
"Isn't everyone?" Sel asked, and elbowed Lisa.
"Yeah," Lisa said.
"Cool, I'll see you there," he told them.
"Why did we do that?" Lisa asked.
"Jurram lost his brother in the athletic complex, and his dad was one of the Civil Guard killed on the emergency call," Sel told her. "Still think it's a waste of time? Besides, I think he likes you."
"I kept him from bleeding out. Of course he likes me," Lisa said. "People like people that save their lives; it's like universally socially acceptable."
"Uhm... no, not what I meant," Sel told her. "He likes you."
"Um, that is all kinds of unlikely," Lisa said. "You're the pretty one."
"With a little makeup and some attention to your appearance?" Sel countered.
"I was gonna ask about that-" Lisa undid her locker and pulled out the books for the morning classes, "-after school. I haven't gotten the hang of what to use, and those holomagazines you leave in the bathroom haven't been real useful."
One of the boys stopped by them on the way up to the Maths lab. "Sel, did you hear?"
"What?"
"Jory Ghimel's dropping out," he said. "It's all over the school - they caught one of his brothers. Turned out to be fighting for the True Way out by Goralis; the whole family's been shamed."
Lisa stopped Sel. "What?" she asked.
"The story that's going around - Jory's brother led a mutiny on one of the patrol ships at Goralis."
"Which brother?" Lisa asked.
"They're saying it's Tanak - he was a senior last year..."
"Don't believe rumours," Lisa said harshly. "Unless you think I've got a deck of cards and a string of ears somewhere. I don't think Mister Ghimel would be in the business of raising mutineers."
The boy stopped... "But why else would Jory drop out?" he asked.
"Trauma," Lisa told him. "Sometimes people can't handle traumatic events. He might not even be dropping out - he could just need the time off to get used to how close he got to something really bad happening."
He ran a hand through his hair. "Um... yeah, you're right... you don't, do you?"
"That's the problem with blown-out reputations," Lisa said. "No, I never took ears or left cards. Most of us never did that crazy ****. There were a few teams that went overboard, but they were all disciplined harshly for it - it's great stories for the media, but that's all it is..." That IS all it is...! "Tell ya what-after school we'll go by their place and see if everyone's okay - they probably got messed with harder than the neighbours did, and if they didn't, well, there's your real reason for the ugly rumours right there - jealousy."
Sel tugged Lisa's sleeve. "What?" Lisa asked.
"Maybe not today? We were going to see Professor Tarel off at the port?" Sel asked insistently.
Lisa sighed. "Right..." What's up with her? Sel turning down a chance to noodle with her boyfriend? She dismissed the suspicion - for now. "My room; see you at the lecture," Lisa said, and broke from the little group to get to her class.
SS Heart of Gold, near Breen controlled space
"Pardon me asking, sir, but just what the hell are we picking up from the Breen?" the Ferasan helmsman asked. Jacob had a fairly multinational crew on board: a few were ex-Starfleet or KDF, others civilians. All had one thing in common - wanting to help their fellow sophonts, and make money while doing it (not necessarily in that order).
"I don't know to be honest, and I didn't ask. Dr. Schrodinger wouldn't have asked me to get this stuff if it wasn't a matter of life and death," he replied from the captains chair, a troubled look on his face. He knew, well not much about the Breen. Oh, he knew they were buying the frozen drink machines his company had offered for sale as fast as they could make them; you'd think someone used to such cold conditions would have invented frozen margaritas on their own. But really knowing them? It was a market that with that one exception, he hadn't managed to get too far into yet.
"We're picking something up; it's the Breen transport we were told to meet. We're being hailed, Captain," Yattaran said, the first officer monitoring for threats.
Jacob sat up, straightening his collar. "All right, it's showtime."
USS Raven, .5 light years away
Captain James Randall watched the feed from the long range sensors. The Raven was one of the few Starfleet escorts that had a cloaking device, often used in missions such as this one, investigating possible weapons smugglers. They'd been monitoring this spot for a few weeks now - but other than a few known Breen smuggler and pirate ships meeting up but never actually leaving Breen territory, there was nothing really actionable. Until now.
"Have you gotten an ID on that civilian ship yet?"
"Coming up now, sir - Heart of Gold, Risan registry, owned by Polecat Industries - hell, this guy seems above board, sir. There's zero violations in the records for that company - though it's only been around a few years."
"So what's he doing meeting with known smugglers?" the Bajoran XO asked curiously.
"Well, being we can't do much to the Breen, as soon as the ships separate follow the corvette - once they're back in international space, we'll board and ask him ourselves."
They waited. Scanning the transporter signals between the two ships Randall knew there was something no good going on. He'd done a bit more reading on the owner of the ship as he waited - people like this 'Jacob Evans', who spent their time acquiring things and money, disgusted him. Humans following old ways, like Ferengi. Something else he detested--they shouldn't even be allowed in Federation space. They were better than that now.
"They're breaking away, sir," the helmsman reported. "Breen ship is headed back into their territory."
"Move us into position, as soon as the 'trader' is in neutral space, drop the cloak and command them to stand down and prepare for inspection."
Heart of Gold
Jake had the cargo stowed, and double secured. He wasn't sure if it was explosive (knowing Schrodi, that was a good possibility - he remembered her coffee machine back in Paragon City) or not, but it was always better to be sure. He had Yattaran going over it to find out what it was as well in case there was any special handling that was required-
"Oh, ****!" He looked up at the helmsman's exclamation, as a Sao Paulo-class escort decloaked off of the bow.
"SS Heart of Gold, you are ordered to cut your engines and stand down to be boarded for inspection," came over the comm.
"Their shields are up, and they have weapons lock..."
"We don't have time for this," Jacob muttered, as the comm chirped from the XO down in the hold. "Sir, I heard that - and if they board us... well what the Breen gave us is one of the few life-sentences the Federation has. We've got twenty-nine-point-seven tons of 原問題."
"Horticulture?"
"No, 原問題 - look, it doesn't matter what it is, if the Federals find this, we're humped!"
"Dammit." They really didn't have time for this. "Kei," he said, turning to the human woman at the science station, "stand by on the wake generator. Scout-pilot, this is gonna be your show - I don't care if we trade paint with them, but set your course right down their throat - and engage slipstream on my mark."
Everyone on the bridge tightened their seat restraints, something that most military ships did not have for some reason. Budgetary, probably.
Taking a deep breath, he gave the order. "Let's moon 'em."
USS Raven
The maneuver caught them off guard - The Raven had been expecting just a fat dumb trader in over his head - not someone who obviously read the Seventy Maxims: in this case number 27 - Don't be afraid to be the first to resort to violence. The ship bucked from the subspace turbulence the Corvette generated, which somehow bled into normal space. Then the hull of the Raven actually rang like a bell as the Corvette bounced off the hull, the two ships colliding as the Heart of Gold attempted to escape.
If they'd been at warp--or even full impulse--that would have been it for us! Even at maximum the deflector couldn't have blunted that much of the impact at that point.
But the captain couldn't afford to stand there staring for long. "Tractor beams, fire aft torpedoes!"
"Tractor... missed sir - they went to slipstream!"
"WHAT? That's impossible; civilian ships don't have slipstream drive!"
He could see it himself, though - the corvette was gone, and by the time its subspace wake had dissipated enough for the Raven to come about, there was nothing he could do to catch them. "Send a message to the nearest Starbase - FLASH traffic. I've got a bad feeling about this."
USS Devilfish, medical bay - 5 June, 1117 hours
"Yes, definitely," LCdr. Dr. Hydik declared. "This is the third time I've run the test. The odds of getting a false positive three times in a row are so astronomically small as to be nonexistent."
Cmdr. Dakir looked at her stomach. "Dammit."
"So... who's the father?" the Deltan CMO inquired with a playful raise of his eyebrows.
Nellie pressed her fingertips to pressure points in the scaled ridges around her face. "It could only have been Woody."
"Wudro? Hmm. I was not expecting that."
Nell glared at the doctor. "Who were you expecting?"
"I don't know, but certainly not Wudro." The Deltan rubbed his bald head. "You've been best friends since first grade-"
"I know."
"I'm sure you developed strong feelings for each other..."
"Exactly. All that repressed desire, screaming for an outlet, and then one night two months ago, it was finally released."
Dr. Hydik was about to make a remark about "sexually immature species," but he caught himself. Instead he asked "So what are you going to do now?"
"About the fetus? Abort it, obviously."
"Don't you think you should discuss it with Wudro?"
"What's to discuss?" Dakir asked. "We're not getting married. We're not even dating. One night of indescretion does not equal a child-raising relationship."
"It is of course, up to you," Hydik said, "but I still think you should talk to Wudro. Then I would like to conduct a transphasic scan to show you what your baby looks like now. That may change your mind about terminating its life."
Nell frowned. "Fine, I'll talk to Woody... but... dammit. Two months..." She knew that this far along, the fetus would be pretty well developed, but... "I'm a starship captain! I can't be a mother! Dammit..."
"I know it's difficult," Hydik offered. "This is the biggest decision of your life so far. It's not one to be rushed, or taken lightly. Talk to Wudro. Sleep on it. Watch the scan tomorrow. Sleep on it again."
"Right. Lucky thing I don't have any other decisions to make for the next few days..." Nell hopped off the biobed. "I'll talk to Woody right after I swing by the mess hall - suddenly I'm dying for a jumja stick..."
Andak Preparatory Institute, Andak Province, 1130 hours...
Sel sat in the lecture while Professor Tarel finished the lecture, but her mind wasn't there.
Lisa didn't see him. Sel remembered seeing Jory run out of the library past her cousin, fleeing because he was sure he would die.
Lisa didn't see him. She doesn't know. Sel remembered watching Lisa from the corner of the stairwell as she killed them, as she cut a man's head off, screaming. She didn't see him.
Overhearing Lisa's taunts, her promise to let the last one go.
She didn't see his face... but Sel had.
She'd seen him, she'd seen how terrified he was.
Why didn't I turn him in? It didn't make any sense. But it made perfect sense why Jory wasn't coming back to school.
I thought she let him go because she knew who he was, but she didn't know! Sel stole a glance at her cousin, who was paying rapt attention as Professor Tarel described what was known of Hebitian customs.
She didn't know, but I know... Sel tried to focus. I have to keep them apart - at least until I know what's in Jory's heart.
CDF HQ, 5 June, 2412, 1200 hours local time...
Retired Gul Elim Makbar pressed an isochip into the player. Lisa had given Luus a copy; this was the original.
Sa'kat watched the imagery. "Where did you get this?" he asked. "Was it leaked? Does the True Way have more spies here?"
Makbar shook his head. "Not from your office, but thank you for confirming that our intelligence services are not completely incompetent." He turned and sat down. "My great granddaughter brought it with her from Moab." He fixed the Oralian with a hard look. "I assume the reason we're not seeing frantic preparations and reserve call-ups is because you have this situation under control?"
Sa'kat looked at the old man. With an enemy like the one that would emerge from that rift, if there was more force to be had--or insurance against further weakening what they did have--well, he owed it to his people to listen, no matter how much grief Makbar had given him...and publicly...before. "What do you want?" he asked.
"I want to know what you need, who needs to be pressured in the Detapa Council, who needs to be distracted, and what favors I should be calling in to ensure that you have everything possible to contain this threat," Makbar stated. "I'm here to ask you, what can I do for you in order to defend Cardassia."
"Your 'favours' always come with attachments," Sa'kat stated levelly.
"I covered for your... beliefs back then, didn't I?" Makbar scolded. "Yes, the strings on this one should be familiar enough - you tell me what you need done, I do it - until you implied my... son was the source, I was half able to convince myself she'd been brainwashed!" He pointed at the report playing out. "But you confirmed the nightmare scenario is neither fantasies from a teenaged girl, nor from a deranged political cult aligned to the Klingons. You confirmed it was real - and that means the only 'attachment' I want is your word that you'll do everything to prevent the nightmare scenario from happening here - the only thing I expect, or want, is that you do your duty, and tell me how to help you succeed in doing it."
"Who else have you shown this to?" Sa'kat asked.
"I've shown it to no one else... yet," Elim said. "Lisa... gave a copy to Luus; she told him what the Orions' plans were."
"So... the True Way finds out anyway." Sa'kat closed his eyes. "Damn." He opened his eyes. "Why did she do that?"
"Because she'd slaughtered over a dozen of his men at the school," Elim said levelly. "She's the 'student' in your reports who resisted successfully, she told me... get this... that he looked like her deceased, Moabite Uncle Michael... she wants to recruit him to help fight these things."
Legate Sa'kat waited for Makbar to leave. "Computer, foreign intelligence files, Alien Nationals, cross reference 'Lisa Makbar', 'Michael Makbar', Moab Three, Moab Confederation Armed Forces Discharge and Service records. Display on my desktop."
The file on 'Michael' proved futile - there was no such person. However... "Michael Quhon" held imagery of an MCDF officer-an infantry captain. The man could have almost passed on the streets of Cardassia Prime as Cardassian, except for the lack of certain skeletal features and the very diminished ridge structures around his eyes.
Lisa's file was thicker - she'd been gene-surgically 'reverted' only a few weeks ago, but her service record was long on content. "Oralius..." The girl had been in near continuous military service since joining a rebel group, had participated in their war of independence against Orion slavers, had gone into fluidic space with the Son Tay task force, had been present at the Battle of Moab, had fought in the urban clearing combat after that, wiping out Fek'Lhri in Moab's cities, then gone to Betazed, and been decorated... before going to Earth to... oh, this was interesting.
"I think I may need to talk with Berat about this one..." The guard's report from the API hostage incident suddenly made a lot more sense.
Oralius help us, now I know why Berat was so furious during the tribunal, about what those people do to children! They took her and made her into a killing machine!
"Flag Lisa Makbar as a potential security threat, eyes only this office, Level Four." She could be an agent, she could be dangerous, she could be so traumatized she might become dangerous... she could be everything she claims to be... but I can't take that risk, and even if she wants to get past the violence, she has made some mortal enemies among the True Way, and they are likely to try and strike at her, regardless... "Wait, Level Three." Can't hurt to have eyes on the ground watching her. Something else...
"Cross reference Lisa Makbar, Moab Marine Corps units. Are there any of her fellows in the Union at this time?"
A list of personnel assigned to companies A, B, and C of the 2nd Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment scrolled. Notations showed the unit had arrived in Cardassian space recently, and was at present billeted temporarily on Starbase 75-Tau, except for five names assigned to the MDCF Xiao Loc...
"Well, this could be good, or this could be bad." There is no such thing as coincidence when it's this obvious.
API Campus, 1200 hours, 5 June, 2412...
Lisa joined everyone at the auditorium, but while the other students looked up to the stage, she watched nervously at the entrances.
This would be the perfect time for the lunatics to attack again. It wasn't 'hypervigilance' and she knew it wasn't paranoia. Paranoia on Lisa Makbar's part didn't put Civil Guard soldiers at the exits, and the bomb scanners weren't there because of her own hypervigilance.
They were there because someone else also thought that this would be an ideal place and time for the True Way to do something to the students at a school they nearly shut down with their political violence.
As she walked in, Proctor Leng stopped her. "Lisa, didn't you get the message?" the Galactic History professor asked.
"Message?" Lisa asked.
"You're supposed to be up on stage," Leng told her.
"Why? I didn't know any of them," Lisa told her. "Why should I go up there? I'm only here because everyone's supposed to be here."
"The city governor... he's going to recognize what you did," Leng told her. "You didn't read your P-Mail again."
"I got busy - ma'am, it's wrong," Lisa told her. "I did what had to be done; it's not something you hand out recognition for!" Lisa's throat felt constricted. She unconsciously tugged at the neckline of her blouse, and the whole area seemed to be tightening down on her. "Why me? Three guys died. This is about them!"
"The city governor-"
Lisa twisted away. "No... No. I won't. I don't feel well, I'm going home today!" She backed out the door. "I'm not going up there! Not to get a ****ing medal for killing! That life is done! I'm OUT, dammit! Give a medal to the cops; they deserve it!"
"Lisa-"
Lisa ran for the doors, for outside, past the hallway with the stains she'd made, up the stairwell with its fresh-painted surface, and the patched holes, and the faint pink that they didn't quite get out of the marble flooring, and out the door into the outside.
"Lisa! Hey, wait up!" she heard, and turned.
Jurram was huffing. "Wait..."
"You shouldn't be running," Lisa told him. "You're still recovering from getting your lungs perforated." She stopped.
"Why did you freak?" he asked.
She closed her eyes. "Don't know," she told him. "I just... didn't..."
"I know what you mean." he said. "The city governor's using this for a photo op," he said. "Politics is all it is."
"Do you guys ever cut classes?" Lisa asked him.
"Um... yeah. Didn't you?" he asked. "I don't do it often - but I know a few places..."
"Oh, thank God! Something normal!" Lisa said. "Let's ditch the rest of the day and go someplace fun."
"Really?" he asked disbelieving.
"Yeah. Let them do their dog-and-pony show without us; the academic day's been screwed anyway."
CDF Basarrus June 6, 1530 Hours, Cardassia prime system.
The crew had gotten most of the blood off the deck and the bridge was repressurized, but there was still carbon scoring and a lingering, invisible, sense of shock in this place.
The worst of it all was that the repairs had come as a result of Cardassians doing violence to other Cardassians. And even with Legate Sa'kat's endorsement and a week's worth of filling the role, Gul Tos Makbar still didn't feel so much like a starship commander, as an executive officer trying to fill bigger shoes. Working the repairs, and working with Captain Strannik from the 77th helped some - but the new chair and the refurbished consoles didn't stop Tos from remembering the old Gul's position, or his late commander. It wasn't Temor's chair anymore--figuratively or literally. But that didn't make it any easier to sit down.
Still, it did help to bring some sort of normalcy to this place. "We're almost finished with repairs, Captain Strannik. Pretty soon we'll be able to take over patrols," Tos said. "I assume whatever it is calling you back to Seven-Five-Tau must be important."
"There's some kind of joint exercise," Strannik said. "I guess Admiral Berat thinks we need the experience."
"Oh, the Klingon thing!" Tos said, "I heard a few CDF guls have been tasked with liaison and observer duties - so they're doing anti-Borg training after all?"
"Something like that... the Borg did crash a scout craft on a moon in the Argolis Cluster once, forty years ago, and with their activity lately... there have been a few incursions in the area." Which even included the incident where a tactical cube transwarped right out in front of the Chin'toka out in Beta Ursae. Where they had found Gul Tassok's daughter, her mind severely warped by the Borg after ten years of hell in the Collective. So odd as this potentially volatile task force and its mission was, it was not outside the realm of reason. "What've you heard?"
"Well, I was briefed that the 77th drew a short straw, under the DS9 accord, and that the Klingons wanted to run joint-anti-Borg training sims, and that a few officers from CDF were being assigned to observe the exercise," Tos said. "I wanted a billet, but with our damage... and the damage to the home fleet..."
"We'll keep an eye on them," Strannik told him. He couldn't sense much from the Cardassian even when he tried... but it wasn't necessary in order for him to see and hear what the new Gul felt.
"It's not an exercise, is it?" Tos asked. "You have that look, and if it was just an exercise, you wouldn't... they think the Borg are coming, don't they?"
"I hope that's all it is - though I have dealt with an incursion or two here. Recent."
"I just put it together, Captain - all those scanning exercises the last few months, the special patrols, the extra preparedness drills... I'll keep my trap shut," Tos said. "It is the Borg... How long do we have?"
"I have orders to return to Seventy-Five-Tau as soon as I beam back. Which means we're about to find out what's going on," Strannik replied calmly for the new gul's sake. He was worried, yes... but this wasn't the time or place to show it. And it wasn't like he'd never had to spool up for a mission on short or no notice.
"We'll be ready for them, then, sir," Gul Makbar said. "I'll make sure we're ready for them."
"Is there anything more you need to help with repair and recovery?"
"I think we're in good shape now, maybe a day longer in the dock and we'll be ready to fight," Tos said. "You be careful out there - you've been a huge help."
"No problem," Strannik replied.
"You guys really got Koheber to defect..." Tos said, as they walked to the transporter room, "or you have sufficient 'evidence' to make it look like he did?"
"I was going to bring that up... what do you think?" Strannik said.
"I think Skrain Koheber being a double agent would be fantastic - but I also think it's fantasy... but it's believable fantasy if you can produce the necessary side-evidence. I can get the men to back the play if you have something to back it with," Tos said in a quiet, canny tone. "After all, it's the kind of story I wish was true about Luus. There are people who'll believe it on our side just because it fits what they want to be true, and people on the other side who'll believe it because they're paranoid - a few testimonials here and there, some gossip, and if you can produce something that looks like evidence it could be useful."
"The first thing is the truth. He could have finished you, and the ship with you the day he defected... no offense meant, but he did get the drop on you two and some heavy blows in. But he backed off and ran. Change the motivation from cowardice or a momentary loss of nerve to a genuine refusal to kill more of his friends in the name of making his insertion look good... and you have your first selling point. Without a major lie."
"Of course," Tos said. "I'll back your play on this... because I kind of wish it was the whole truth - we were roomies at the Academy. Skrain wasn't always a fanatic."
"He still wasn't... as bad as some of the True Way types I've seen or heard of," Strannik said.
"Sometime, when this is all over, I'm going to ask you how you took him down - privately, you can tell me what the people don't need to hear then. For now, they need Skrain Koheber to be a brave man doing deep-cover work against the True Way." Tos said, "I think that's going to be a better memorial than the other side of it."
Strannik focused his gaze into Makbar's eyes. "It would have been instant for him. No time to suffer."
"That's good." Tos said, "You have an appointment to face the Borg, I'm keeping you, and we're at the transporter room. Good luck, Captain."
Strannik nodded. "To you too, Gul Makbar. Perhaps we'll meet again soon." I will keep you in my prayers, he thought. He wasn't sure how Makbar would feel about knowing that, since some Cardassians - mainstream ones, not just the True Way - still seemed ill at ease with the Oralian Way. But he would still do so anyway.
Ghimel and Sons Tailors, 1600 Hours local time...
"Sel, what are you doing here?" Mister Ghimel asked.
They were standing in front of the shop. "I'm looking for Lisa," she said. "You haven't seen her, have you? She left the assembly at school..."
"I haven't seen her, sorry. How did your family weather the chaos?" the old tailor asked.
"We did okay," Sel told him.
"What makes you suspect she'd be here?" Ghimel asked.
"She stood up for Jory in school," Sel said. "She even dared some of the boys who were saying bad things about him, said he wasn't dropping out because of... a rumour about Tanak being involved in something bad with his unit."
"Oh," Ghimel said. "Sel... Jory has been ill the last few days, but some of the rumour is true... like what happened with your father, Tanak made a... poor decision."
"I'm so sorry for you," she said.
"We will survive," Ghimel told her.
"Tell Jory to call me when he feels better," Sel said intensely, "okay? I have to figure out where Lisa went now."
"I'll do that," Ghimel told her. "Was she seen with anyone?"
Sel thought back. "Yeah, someone said Jurram was with her."
"Oh, well if I were you, I'd look down by Peace Park, then - young people often go there for privacy - or so I remember."
"Thanks." Sel waved. "I'll be by later!"
Ghimel watched her go, then stepped back into the shop. "Jory! Have you finished?" he demanded.
"Almost, Father," Jory said. "These power cells aren't quite right for this model of disruptor, though-"
"They'll do," Ghimel said. "Your little girlfriend Sel was by. You've been sick; you'll be feeling better soon. Remember that... and remember not to let her see you when you kill that half-breed cousin of hers."
"Why do I have to do it?" Jory asked.
"Because she murdered your cell-mates, because she's a half-breed, because you're afraid of her - take your pick," Ghimel told him. "Just don't get caught."
"When?" Jory asked.
"When you've finished building the active-camouflage suit," Ghimel told him. "Perhaps a week, and that assumes the movement doesn't need the resources for another mission before then. In the meantime, you're going back to school tomorrow."
"What if I'm recognized?" Jory asked. "What if she sees me again?"
"Did she look at you the first time?" Ghimel asked.
Jory closed his eyes, and re-ran it... "I don't think so."
"Then she won't, and as long as you're careful, the others won't either," Ghimel told him. "So stop worrying."
Makbar House
"Who was that, honey?" Tarel wondered as B.C. left the old Gul's study where the comm unit was.
"McLain, of course," Hawkes told her. "I don't know how he always knows where to find me..."
"What'd he want? Did you tell him we're leaving for Dee-Ess-Nine tonight?"
"It wasn't that. He just wanted me to be on the look out for a particular ship on the way."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," Hawkes sighed. "A captured True Way Keldon has turned up missing en route to Seven-Five-Tau from the Vlugta fields. Apparently the crew consists entirely of Starfleet cadets."
"Whaaa...?" Akorem Tarel shook her head to make that sink in. "Who would be so irresponsible as to allow that?"
"It could only be one person," LCdr. Hawkes muttered. "Anyway, that's all above my pay grade. It's Admiral LaRoca's problem. If we find 'em, I'm just supposed to point 'em in the right direction and follow them and call the Bradbury. But I don't think we'll find 'em. They've been out of contact a week; they have to be way outside the space lanes to get that kind of lost..."
Ex-True Way Keldon Jasad, 5 June, 2412...
"Zabu stew again?"
The Tellarite girl just looked, well, as disgusted with Senior Cadet Cambridge as she had been, well to be honest, since the day she met him. "It's nutritious, it's filling, and it's your own damn fault, moron. We'd be at 75-Tau days ago if it wasn't for you."
"My fault? How is this my fault?" Cambridge demanded. "I told you guys-"
"Oh, yeah, we were going fine till Captain Dip**** there decided the autopilot was boring, and being that he was 'in charge' and command track did not have to listen to a mere 'science geek'..." She glared at him. "And that is how it's your fault," Rena said, her blonde hair still greasy from the emergency repairs to life support. "If you had bothered to read, I know, Starfleet doesn't quite have picture books yet for comparative systems engineering, but Cardassian ships, if you shut down the autopilot without disengaging warp, it, how do they say it? It Kirks up the computer. Which controls everything on a Keldon."
Cadet Trombley stirred his bowl. "I think I'm kind of getting to like zabu stew," he said.
"Shut up Trombley!" everyone at the mess table said in unison.
Peace Park, Andak City, 1700 hours...
"...sometimes have free concerts in the evenings." Jurram said. They were sitting in the bandshell, eating street-takeout. "Mostly folk music, but sometimes there are groups playing experimental stuff."
"You like music?" Lisa asked.
"Who doesn't?" Jurram asked her rhetorically. "I mean, I'm not, oh, like Jory Ghimel, trying to replicate the old songs on a digital synth...but I can dance-sort of." He said. "I never really had time to mess with that stuff though."
"I used to play," Lisa told him. "Uncle Mike taught me guitar and drums. I'm a little bit too foot-slow for drumming though."
"You don't anymore?" he asked.
She tapped the side of her head. "Messed up now," she said. "Last time I tried, I blanked out in a panic attack... I'm seeing a counselor for it."
"I have a couple relatives who've had panics like that," Jurram told her. "My grandfather used to be a sculptor, but then Lakarian City happened - he couldn't anymore after working in a relief team."
"I want it back," Lisa told him. "Here, listen to this - I used to be able to play the lead on it..." She slid a chit into her PADD and gave him the headphones.
"What is it?" he asked a little loudly.
"Listen to it," Lisa said, emphasizing so he could read her lips with his artificial sight, over the sound flooding his ears.
"This is awesome!" he said. "Do you have more?"
She switched to speaker, and he took off the headphones.
...Cause you're going home
You're running free
As only you would be if you never owed them anything
And now you've found your way out
In the trust you've seen your path on home...
"Yeah," Lisa said. "I've got both of their first albums, and I can play about half of it - or could, before I had the panic attacks."
"I like this! Wow..."
"It sounds better when professionals play it. I'm... I was just an amateur," Lisa confessed. "I'm not good enough to write music, but I used to be able to copy from tab pretty well."
Jurram dug into his pack. "I draw," he said. "Maybe when I get my eyes back I'll be able to do it again...I've actually had some ideas lately..."
She looked at the pages he handed her. "Dude, this is ****ing excellent! The panels flow..."
"You get it!" Jurram was elated. "I usually have to explain that the pictures tell a story."
"I love comic books. Sequential art's great," she told him. "Who's the hero?"
"A guy I made up," Jurram said. "...you really think this stuff's cool?"
"TRIBBLE yes," Lisa told him. "Your action scenes here - and here - they flow - you imply motion with the angles." She sighed. "I can't even do stick-figures, and you've got full on sense-action going in still panels... more?"
Jurram sighed. "I had some panels I was working on at home - but then I got hurt..." Jurram paused. "You have anything where you're playing?"
Lisa sighed. "Um... no," she said.
"I'll let you see my unfinished panels, but I want you to get past the panic attacks and play something for me, okay?" he said, and tentatively put his arm around her shoulders.
Lisa nodded. "Deal." She leaned into it, enjoying the closeness.
USS Devilfish - the next morning
Nell Dakir rolled over and sat up, blinking her bleary eyes. "Ungh. Computer, time?"
"The time is 0642 hours."
"Dammit." She had woken up three minutes before her alarm was set to wake her. She hated it when that happened. "Cancel -ur- wake-up alert," she said, burping up something that tasted foul mid-sentence. At least she wasn't puking.
The meds Hydik had given her helped with the nausea, but she still hadn't really slept. She'd spent half the day yesterday and most of the night trying to shake a nagging sense of guilt over what she was contemplating. It's just a simple medical procedure, she'd told herself before turning in for bed. Nothing to stress out over... yeah right. Drinking a bottle of springwine before bed would have helped, but... she patted her stomach. "That's another strike against you."
She knew plenty of female Starfleet officers who'd had abortions, usually after having spent a fun night - or week - on Risa. I've never even set foot on Risa. This sucks. And the sex with Woody wasn't even that good.
She went to the head, took a shower, brushed her teeth and got dressed. She wondered how long it would be before she needed new uniforms. Two months out of eleven, but that's for Cardassians. The kid's half-Bajoran, and they only take five months... figure eight, split the difference?
She sighed. I need to talk to Woody. Prophets help me...
LCdr. Eliut Wudro had just stepped out of the sonic shower when his door chimed. "Come in!" he said as he wrapped a towel around himself before coming out of the head to greet his visitor. "Captain! What can I do for you?"
"I have something to tell you, Woody," Nell said. "You'd better sit down."
He did. "What is it?"
"Well, there's no good way to say it, so I'll just say it: I'm pregnant, and it's yours."
"WHAT?!?" Eliut jumped up so fast he left his towel behind. "Sorry, Captain, I-"
"Don't worry about it. It's nothing I haven't seen before," she said slyly. "And drop the 'Captain' nonsense. This is serious, Woody."
"Right, um." Eliut repositioned his towel and sat down. A million thoughts and emotion were rushing through his mind, and then one that kept rising to the top was I'm gonna be a father!? "What are we going to do about this?" he finally asked after he managed to calm down a little.
"I was thinking I should just abort the fetus."
"WHAT?!?" He jumped up again, this time holding the towel so he didn't expose himself to his CO. "You can't DO that! You can't cut a Bajoran baby out of his mother without killing them both!"
"I'm not Bajoran though," Dakir pointed out. "It used to be common practice among Cardassians to abort defective children-"
"Our baby is not defective!" Wudro snapped. He paused. "He's not, is he?"
"I don't know yet. Dr. Hydik is still running a genetic profile," Nellie told him. "What makes you so sure it's a 'he?'"
"I dunno, just a... feeling, I guess." On Wudro's first trip back to Bajor after graduating from Starfleet Academy, his father, a ranjen, had arranged for his first and only Orb experience with the Orb of Contemplation. He knew better than to put much stock in the Prophets' vague revelations, but he came away from the experience with a definite sense that he would only have one child, and it would be a son.
"I don't want you to abort him," Eliut Wudro said firmly. "I know it's ultimately up to you, Nellie, and I'll accept any decision you make, but... I'd rather that you carried him to term. Give him a chance at life."
Nell sighed. "How could we raise him, though? I mean, I'm a starship captain, you're a security officer - neither of those careers bode well for our lifespans right now... and this ship is no place for a child..."
"I'll resign," Woody declared. "I'll resign my commission and raise our baby. By myself, if it comes down to it."
Nell bit her lip. "Lemme tell you what Hydik told me. This is a big decision - the biggest of our lives, perhaps. There's no need to rush things."
"There's nothing to rush," Wudro told her. "I've been preparing myself for this moment ever since dad gave me 'the talk.' I'm responsible for that life inside of you every bit as much as you are." He gave her a resolved nod. "My mind was made up years ago. This is right."
Nell felt crushed by the weight of his conviction. "I, uh... I still need more time to think things through."
"I understand. Take your time." Woody shuffled his feet. "Could I... see him, before you decide?"
"Of course," she said looking at his feet. "Dr. Hydik wants to run a transphasic scan tomorrow. I'll double-check the time, and let you know." She looked up at his face. "And I will inform you as soon as I've made my decision, one way or the other."
He smiled. "Thanks, Nellie." He glanced at the chronometer. "I need to get dressed - shift starts in half an hour..."
6 June 2412... 12 days, 13 hours until R-Hour
"Honor Guard, post!" crackled over the commsets. On the dusty surface of the third moon of Goralis VI, a group of MCDF in full EVA suits stood before six open holes scraped into the surface.
In each hole was a torpedo casing with a flag draped over it. There was something brooding in the silent vacuum of the airless moon.
Parin watched from the shuttle, as they carried the casings to the graves. It was a temporary measure-the bodies couldn't be shipped home yet, and this was well away from the predicted sites of combat.
Colonel Trung's voice came over the channel; Parin could barely distinguish the man's armor at the head of the formation. "I guess I'm supposed to say some inspirational words now, using phrases like patriotism, or duty, or God... but you all know your duty, we're all here for the same purpose, and not everyone has the same god, or sees the same god in the same way. These are our friends, our shipmates, for some of us, the only thing like family we've got left - and they're gone now. Gone to join our families, our friends, our comrades who've gone beyond the veil and will not walk this way again. When we enlist, we accept the charge that some of us may die so that others may live." Trung's voice was level, but even Parin could sense the tremor in it over the channel.
They were burying their dead in the sterile soil of an airless moon, because the nearest class-M planet was Goralis... Cardassians, like Moabites and unlike many in the Federation, buried their dead. And in the eyes of the Cardassian public, even if not so much in the eyes of Parin, these were the enemy fallen. But there was another enemy they had to consider too. Only a few of the Fek could survive here to desecrate their graves. Not so on Goralis itself if they failed.
They dared not fail.
"These seven people: Staff Sergeant Jeremy Rorke, Lieutenant Alyssa Baine, Lieutenant Chan Rhee, Sergeant Evelyn Rozhenko, Corporal Sean McConnell, Lance Corporal Rebekah Chun, Private Steven Allanson, have done their duty, and now rest their heads in the presence of their god, and their families, never to know war, pain, or sorrow again. Their work is done; our work is just begun."
Trung stepped off the improvised speaking platform, picked up a shovel, and tossed the first dirt in to each grave, before giving the shovel to the next man. This continued as each member of the Xiao Loc's company dropped a scoop of lunar dirt into each of the graves. As each one finished, they handed the shovel to the next, and returned to the formation.
"Detail, present...ARMS!"
Seven soldiers raised rifles into the eternal night.
"Fire!"
Seven muzzle flashes flickered silently as casings dropped, each creating little dust puffs of their own.
"Fire!"
The silence was unnerving - just the muzzle flash, and the puff of dust.
"Fire!"
The last flashes.
Over the channel, a voice, mellow and harmonious and live - though even this constrained by the headset equipment - began...
Where no rockets fly nor bullets wing
Our broken brothers let us bring
To the Mansions of the Lord
No more weeping
No more fight
No friends bleeding through the night
Just Divine embrace
Eternal light
In the Mansions of the Lord
Where no mothers cry
And no children weep
We shall stand and guard
Though the angels sleep
Oh, through the ages let us keep
The Mansions of the Lord"
-Randall Wallace
"Order, ARMS!" The graves were filled in, and marked with stone piles. The men stood in formation again.
"Dismissed." And the suited figures filed back to the shuttles that would return them to the Outpost. The rifle detail stepped in formation, and planted the rifles, one per grave, bayonet extended, at the head of each grave, and placed a helmet--in four of the cases, the grave-owners. The other three were generic replications because there had been none to recover. Finally at each grave the detail sat a pair of boots with the tags, to identify the occupants.
It felt like such a pale tribute this time to Trung once the last member of the rifle detail stepped aboard the shuttle and the hatch slid closed. Pale even compared to the services held at mass graves after the slaughter on Moab. For here, in the frigid silence of the lunar vacuum, only death could truly receive its honors. Not life.
How Trung hoped they would live long enough to bring them home and give the lives of these soldiers their due.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
Lisa Makbar: Hailee Steinfield
Dr. Mocet: Mia Kirshner
B'Renna Djokahr: Morena Baccarin
Harkan: Robert Wisdom
Skrain Koheber: Greg Ellis
Kenny: Maxwell Perry Cotton
Barryn: Oscar Kennedy
Sokar: Max Charles
Brandon: Jakob Davies
The Bolian: Logan Kulick
Edym: David Mazouz
Nerrin: Ashley Kalfas
Mala: Courtney Eaton
Zarah: Amandla Stenberg
Neera: Edie Falco
Dugan: Walton Goggins
Rodav: Tomas Arana
Tos Makbar: Joseph Morgan
Sel Makbar: Ariel Winter
Elim Makbar: Bruce Campbell
Jory Ghimel: Liam Hemsworth
Tassos Ghimel: Mark Rolston
Schrodinger: Jewel Staite
Ponta: Mary Lynn Rajskub
Thag: Dolph Lundgren
Kevin Monroe: Brendan Gleeson
Gonzo: Alana De La Garza
Nellim Dakir: Ana Alexander
"Beowulf" ch'Azrom: Kevin McKidd
Kemann'Hidel (Sixth/Fifth): Kellan Lutz
Eliut "Woody" Wudro: Garrett Hedlund
Bilay Zebamag: Alia Shawkat
Douglas MacGregor: William Moseley
Blog: Lee Arenberg
Kelly Hu: Yeong-ae Lee
Toresh: Gabriel Mann
Parin: John Diehl
Shalleri Djokhar: Kristen Cloke
Meer Shalvana: Ekaterina Botziou
Missy Travis: Jenette Goldstien
Sanjit Kaur: Parminder Nagra
Jurram Kazel: Robert Sheehan
Harding Cash: Ewen Bremner
Scion: Clive Owen
N'Kkitt: Owen Bento
Kazel: Rupert Graves
Degar: Alexander Ludwig
Dr. Akettra: Lisa Edelstein
Luus Makbar: Maurice Benard
Sever: Arthur Darvill
Viresh: Katie McGrath
Tanak Ghimel: Andrew Lee Potts
Kasella Veska: Lucy Brown
Thim Russol: Noel Clarke
Olivia Louise Solomon: Juliet Aubrey
Rin: Steve Zahn
Jeb Kincaid: Peter Firth
Taylor: Stuart Stone
Yubo: Anna Popplewell
Taren Ocet: Tilda Swinton
Terry Kelso: Logan Lerman
Davis: Will Poulter
Darren Holiday: Lucas Till
Robyn Sherwood: Rosario Dawson
S'Raaz: Matt Lanter (voice)
Minh Jackson: Grace Huang
Thansa R'Gamo: Rooney Mara
Sechukr: Donald Faison
Ciraybe: Arnold Chon
Istvaan Koheber: Brian Cox
David Reddington: Randall Bentley
Leyra Denns: Lilah Richcreek
Lokan: Tom Wilkinson
Annabelle Cameron: Angela Lansbury
Keith Cameron: Ian Holm
Irtrim: Justine Glenton
Tosska: Simone Lahbib
Tamov: Darren Capozi
Smythe: Paul Giamatti
Judah "Judge" Lees: Oshri Cohen
Jacob Evans: Logan Manus
Reynor: Mike Dopud
Trac: Francois Chau
Adelina Pinheiro: Maria de Medeiros
Lofton Grady: Giovanni Ribisi
Kim: James Kyson
Munivez: Daryl Sabara
Dr. Hydik: Howie Mandel
Cambridge: Skandar Keynes
Kobheerian Shopkeeper: Santiago Segura
Pete Loeffler: Evan Ellingson
Ricardo Swift: Max Thieriot
Allan Robert "Bobby" Kunicki: Cayden Boyd
Hannah Leung: Katrina Law
Huynh: Johnny Nguyen
Oezlel: Sophie Wu
Shara Makbar: Katey Sagal
Elliott Buckmaster: David Morse
Delaney: Jennifer Tilly
"Dixie" Kyphr: William Sanderson
Krispen: Jackie Earle Haley
Sh'nara: Jordana Brewster
C'Tarrsa: Adam Brody (voice)
Thaddeus "T.S." Sherman: Cillian Murphy
Jackie Servalan: Lena Heady
Jarek: Jason Clarke
Cheron: Moises Arias
Kian: Alexa Nikolas
Walford: Saorise Ronan
Dinkins: Greg Robinson
Ssthalss: Kathleen Quinlan (voice)
Notes:
- Only new or previously un-cast characters are listed above. For recurring or returning characters from previous stories in the "War of the Masters" saga, see the casting pages from "The Dark Horses", "The Road to Ruin", "The Chase" and "Visiting with the Dead"
- Major characters written by takeshi6 are drawn from the anime series Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha and are not casted.
- Major characters written by gulberat are not casted, at the author's preference
- Feel free to suggest casting for anyone we left out! (or anyone we cast if you have a better idea.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
PERFECT :cool: (as a side note, Lucy Brown is from the next town over to my hometown)
I would respectfully suggest...
Eliut "Woody" Wudro: Jim Sturgess
And re:
Gonzo: Alana De La Garza
No suggestions for a recast, but I never imagined Gonzo to be smokin' hot
Garrett Hedlund, on the other hand, played Jeff Bridges' kid in Tron: Legacy and owned the role of a young man stepping up to his responsibilities and commitments. He and Woody are one of those cases where an actor and a role actually inspire one of my characters, if that makes sense.
I do plan to showcase her more in the coming battles than I did last two times around, where for sake of plot I needed to remove her from the bridge right before things started to get really heavy. I think she'll be making her first appearance very soon.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
I totally understand what you mean there, and likewise, that performance inspired the cameo of Drew Mason in The Spires (who almost became Mister Palmer, had the Borg not got in the way) Equally, Peta Wilson's performance in La Femme Nikita inspired much of Cameron's early development, and the 'look' of the Pentaxians.
Awesome, I'll look forward to her appearances :cool:
"Hell's yeah!!" ^_^ And all because some dude tried to buy H'mL'n a drink
Always good to see the word 'maiming' used too
Did you hear the one about the Moab Veteran?
No
That's 'cause you weren't there, man!
Yeah, well, it had been a year. Anybody who can survive a year under LaRoca's command has earned a promotion (unless he's a scrappy little troublemaker like Bobby Kunicki.)
Toreno: "Carl, do you like maiming people? Just curious."
CJ: "Maiming? Some people, sure."
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
Inspired be the character of similar name in Grease?
Toreno was awesome
Arguably, H'mL'n could have 'sung' a note and shattered everything glass in the room, but I think she handled things fine :cool:
Actually Allan Bobby Kunicki is part of the starter duty officer pack in-game. He's a common-quality assault squad officer - in other words, a redshirt who should die immediately upon beamdown in his first away mission. But for whatever reason, my Allan Bobby Kunicki is magic. I can send him on the most extreme-risk away missions and he always comes back alive. And more often then not, his missions result in a critical success.
Every other common DOff LaRoca has ever picked up has been fed into the fleet holdings meat grinder, but I can't bring myself to ever get rid of Kunicki. He's the luckiest and scrappiest redshirt ever.
...Oh, baby, you know, I've really got to leave you / Oh, I can hear it callin 'me / I said don't you hear it callin' me the way it used to do?...
- Anne Bredon
Definitely liking this so far. I'm very curious to see how the friction between the differing Starfleet crews is going to go-- doubly so if the Undine try to exploit it, or if relatively sane captains like Strannik become embroiled in it.
Ahh, now that is a pretty cool situation :cool: Perhaps he's really an Immortal
[Edit to add]
I forgot to say, I loved how Jesu upgraded his uniform with the new jacket :cool: