JUNE 2003

Author: Leaf Jumper
Title: ?
<<About an hour before the two hoppers left the base>>

Leaf Jumper yawned expansively. He had returned from visiting his Clan not long ago and was hungry and tired. He had attempted to get some food from the magic machines near the Tail-less one's main nesting center (OFF: Admin) but he had been shooed out by the harridan of a female that ran the place. He supposed he could get something to eat at the main nesting center, but the food was so bland there. And the tail-less ones that spent their time there were a lot of NO fun. They didn't seem to appreciate Leaf Jumpers attempts to play. He hated stick in the mud tail-less ones. In fact Leaf Jumper kinda missed Fur-face. He wondered where he had gotten off to. Now THERE was a tail-less one who knew how to have fun.

Leaf Jumper didn't bother to sneak into the large Nest. It was getting kind of old. In fact he had started to avoid it since the Giant old Tail-less one had left for the sky. (OFF: Driscoll) He made the hand motion he had seen others make as they entered to the Militant Tail-less ones. They seemed surprised at his salute. For old times sake he decided to make for the Giant's former office.

He went into the office and looked around a bit. It was clear that another had taken up residency. The very well ordered room had what looked like a game (OFF:Chess board) and some pokie things on the wall made from metal (OFF Fencing swords). On the desk was a device the tail-less ones used to drink from. Leaf jumper sniffed at it and found the oder of the residue within to be highly offensive. Leaf jumper swatted the thing away from him and chittered to him self as it broke into pieces on the ground. He then started rooting through the sliding openings looking for some candy. The Giant Tail-less one used to keep sweets there all the time. Leaf Jumper only found orderly stacked supplies and padds. BORING! He decided that it would be far more usefull to the new Tail-less one if he rearranged the stuff so as to be more visible. He quickly spread the stuff about the office. Accidentaly, he knocked the small table with the several black and white figures on it's checkered surfave to the floor, scattering pieces everywhere. He picked up the largest white one and examined it. It was very nice to look at, so he kept it.

He capered about the office for a few minutes until a loud blaring sound accompanied by a flashing yellow light. Thinking that he was the cause for it, he scampered quickly out the window leaving Brandel's office in total dissaray.

Leaf Jumper scrambled towards a Hopper just leaving the town and scrambled aboard hanging on to the back of the vehicle. It sped towards the Militant Tail Less one's Base. As he landed he saw several of the soldier tail-less ones boarding two hoppers. They were dressed like Fur face, and Leaf Jumper got all nostaljic for him. He decided to tag along and see if he would be led to Fur Face.

He grabbed ahold of the back exterior of the Hopper and shrilled with glee as it spead away towards the far side of the jungle.

THis is how he happened to make his way, in ignorance, to the Zarnac site.

OFF:

Leaf Jumper
Resident Scamp
Deridous IV

MAY 2003

Author: Kyrsa
Title: "Time to recover"

MAY 2003

Author: Major Ethan Roberts
Title: "Stepping Outside the Computer Case"
ON

==S.S. MINERVA==
==Bridge==

*The Minerva had just survived being pelted with various bits of exploding freighter. Charlie had managed to keep himself locked into his seat by pressing his knees into the underside of the CONN console. That allowed him to do some exceptionally sharp twists, turns and tumbles to avoid getting smashed into the USS T'Shar by the shockwave. Throughout the maneuvers Minerva's helmsman could feel the inertial dampening field straining to keep up. Now a few more fingertaps on the helm control brings the Minerva to a calm, safe drift at a sae distance from that energy ribbon. In the peripheral of his left eye he can see the hologram, Zim, only now ceasing to grip the edges of the Ops console.*

Charlie (NPC):*eyes on console as he runs systems checks for damage* Everybody all right back there?

Kyrsa:*climbing up side of captain's chair from floor* Lovely, if you consider a lump on the head and soiled underwear to be all right.

Dr. Stuart:*seated at Tac console, heart racing & eyes wide* We're alive?

Kyrsa: You're the doctor, you tell us. Speaking of doctors... Zim, how many did we get?

Zim (holo-NPC):*reading Ops display* Not enough. Our sensors could distinguish at least 38 lifeforms on that freighter before it exploded. Nine of them are in Cargo Bay 4. The T'Shar appears to have rescued no more than 20.

Kyrsa: Damage?

Charlie: Shields held well enough. Deflectors deflected the rest. Ditz is going to have to touch up the inertial dampeners a bit, though, before we can go to Warp again.

Zim:*reading incoming text message* The T'Shar regrets to inform us that their Sickbay is currently at capacity and that it will be a few hours before their transporters will be online again. They want to know if we're able to properly treat our survivors until then.

Kyrsa:*now standing behind Zim, turns to Stuart* Hey, is that doctor title good for anything or do you just use it for fun?

Stuart: If you're asking if I have a medical degree then the answer is yes.

Kyrsa: Good! Zim, tell the T'Shar we've got it under control. Then take Stuart, swing by Sickbay to pick up some medical supplies, and get both of you to Cargo Bay 4. *to Stuart* Doctor, we don't know how friendly our guests are. If they don't feel too banged up, it would be nice if your personal thugs join you.

Stuart: They go where I go.

Kyrsa: Of course, they do. They'd follow you into the lavatory if you paid them enough.

Stuart:*partly joking* Actually I do. *smiles*

Zim: Reply sent, Captain.

Kyrsa: Then get moving! I'll see you down in Cargo Bay 4. Stuart, once you and Zim pick up the medical supplies consider yourself the chief doc for the time being.

Zim:*taking offense* Captain!

Kyrsa: You're the ship's medic only because we haven't had anyone better. Besides, you're missing half your medical database. Don't argue.

Zim: But odds are that is still more than what _he_ knows about medicine!

Kyrsa: I said "Don't Argue"! Now go!

Zim:*after a silent moment pondering further protests, gives in* If you would be so kind as to follow me, _Doctor_ Stuart? *moves towards turbolift*

OFF

Kyrsa, starship captain,
S.S. Minerva, freight & passenger transport
ON:

==Present day Earth, Webster, Massachusetts, USA to be exact==
==About 8:30 PM EST==

It's dark, chilly, and overcast. Not exactly the weather you'd expect going into Memorial Day weekend. Yet, despite the sheer nastiness of the conditions, seated at a cobbled together computer in front of an open window is a twenty-something man with short brown hair and wire framed glasses. DVDs and Star Trek books litter the area around the desk.

The man is typing rapidly, glancing occasionally to his right to look at the television. That's when he saw it...

The Internet, watching him.

"Oh, hello everyone. For those who don't know, I'm Corey, better known to the members of the Deridous IV Tango Fleet play by email role playing game as both Major Ethan Roberts and Captain Seamus McFadden. I'm sure you're all wondering what you're doing here in my house instead of watching the trials and tribulations of the one of my characters."

"I have a very simple reason for dragging you into the real world. A few of you have requested some direction from the command staff, and with Justin in disposed, that responsibility falls to me. To set things up, let me give you some background on the Nexus." he said, spinning his chair to grab a thick paperback book from under the edge of the bed.

Flipping through the pages, he came to the one he wanted quickly, "Ok, the Star Trek Encyclopedia: Second Edition defines the nexus as 'Nonlinear temporal continuum in which reality appears to reshape itself in fulfillment of a person's innermost wishes. The gateway to the nexus was an energy ribbon, a temporal flux phenomenon that crossed this galaxy every 39 years. The first known contact with the nexus was in 2293, when the energy ribbon crossed the flight path of two El-Aurian refugee ships in the Sol sector. Both ships were destroyed in the collision, and at least two passengers aboard the S.S. Lakul were swept into the nexus.' I won't go on with the rest of it, since I'm sure you all know about Soren and Guinan and the return of Kirk. But, since temporal flux is highlighted, I will read you that passage so that we're all on the same page."

With that he flips rapidly through the pages with one hand while typing this description with the other. "Ah, here it is, 'Phenomenon in which matter passes from one space-time continuum to another. Temporal flux can interfere with the operation of transporters if the object or person to be transported is in a state of temporal flux.'" With that he closes the book and sets it aside. "So, as you can see, this energy ribbon could prove to be a real pain in the backside for as long as its in the system. But, it could also pass us by with no further problems, depending on what you the writers make of it."

"As it stands right now we have a mining operation under siege by attackers, a transport ship loaded up with rescued pirates, a bunch of scientists staring up at the sky, and a Sabre-class ship in orbit with its captain knocked loopy because his executive officer is a useless moron." He stops typing for a moment, takes a swig from the bottle of Mountain Dew next to his monitor, then continues.

"Yes, we've lost a couple of players recently, but we have more coming in. Besides, the group we have now is by far THE BEST crew in the entire fleet. If this talent pool in this group can't make a story with this kind of potential work, then why are we even bothering? Wait, don't leave yet! My point is, there are so many possible routes you can take to get from the beginning of the mission to the end, I couldn't feasibly list them all."

Scratching an itchy elbow, he thought for a moment to gather his words, "So, everyone get going, I'll be along shortly with an in character post. I just want to go grab some grub from the fridge. I think better on a full stomach, and I need all the help I can get." he said with a wink.


OFF

Corey Barton
Average New England guy and amateur science fiction writer
player of

Major Ethan Roberts
Strategic Operations Officer
Deridous IV

MARCH 2003

Authors: Sarat and Bray'lok
Title: ?
ON:

<Sarat's House - short time later>

Bray'lok and Sarat walk the few hundred yards from the landing pads to the main colony surveying the general damage. Some buildings had lost roofs, others blown down entirely. Few lucky buildings appeared to have suffered not much beyond windows blown out. Along the street leading to Sarat's house there were pieces of debris that both had to avoid, but other colonists were already out and about recovering what they could.

Bray'lok stepped around a large part of what had once been a tree. Looking around, he noted some colonists staring. Most hadn't seen a Klingon walking around in Vulcan style robes. They were just more comfortable for him. "The damage is somewhat minor." Bray'lok said, having seen a number of battle zones.

"In many ways Nature can be more devastating than weapons" Sarat countered.

"My mate would say that weather can be more devastating because you can do little to stop weather."

"Quite true. When shall I have the honor of meeting her?"

Bray'lok let a wry smile cross his lips. "Did you meet the Medic on the Shadow Storm? The Human Indian woman?" They had moved from the small BOP to Bray'loks own ship the moment they achieved orbit. The BOPS were then delegated the task of helping with the evacuation.

"I do recall her in passing, though we were otherwise occupied for introductions."

"Raven Whitefeather. My mate, and the owner of a number of Klingon small fingers." He picked up his hand and waggled his pinkie for Sarat to see.

A slight smile crosses Sarat's face, but is unseen beneath the robes. The continue the remaining distance quickly and pause before Sarat's house.

The house seemed structurally sound, the roof had been damaged, and windows all in shards, but otherwise intact. As they walked around the side however Sarat froze. The once peaceful garden was in ruins.

Even Bray'lok could fear the loss in his new friend. This was Sarat's solace, his place of peace. A very important part of Kohlinar was to find your place of peace. Bray'lok had his in a long walk, Sarat's was his garden. "Devastation." Sarat recovered from the initial shock and began slowly walking through the broken trees and plants. "At least I have the pleasure of creating a new garden in our new location".

"Yes, and the peace of watching new life grow." Bray'lok said as he matched Sarat's pace again. They walked past what had at one time been a beautiful flower bed, even to Bray'loks crude eyes, and Bray'lok sniffed the air, the smell of crushed flowers hung all around, intermingled with mud, and some metallic smells. "Of all the death I've seen, I do believe this is the worst." he muttered.

Both knew their intended destination and quietly went to the building at the rear of the garden. It was one of the more protected sites in the colony and weathered very well. Inside all was calm and undisturbed other than a thick coating of dust.

Bray'loks keenly trained eyes slid over the surface of the object. "None the worse for wear. It should be moved to a more secure location. Soon."

"Ke'nar'ek can take the vessel tonight to the Shadow Storm until a proper hangar can be constructed at the outpost. That should eliminate any threat of discovery."

"It is a logical move." He glanced up at the roof where there was wind howling through a small hole. "Even the shields were no match for the furry."

"Yes, nature will seek balance. But we should check the equipment in the house."

"Indeed." Bray'lok replied as they turned to walk. What to others was a very calm and emotionless conversation, for a Vulcan would be considered a highly emotional exchange. For some reason Sarat seemed to draw the Vulcan out of the large half breed.

Both cautiously made their way back through the remains of the garden, curiously trying to avoid stepping on crushed plants when possible. The doors at the rear had blown open revealing a floor littered with shards of glass.

Bray'lok examining the destruction felt a bit of sadness. He wondered at how the colonists would fare. They didn't have a large crew of personal to help rebuild. They had what marines could be spared, and their own hands. "I believe I will tell Nat to send half of the builders over here to help. The estate can be delayed. The Shadow Storm is comfortable enough for a few day's stay." He was thinking aloud.

Sarat nodded in approval. "A noble gesture which I am sure will be appreciated by the Colony Administration." I will check the communication room. Will you begin examining the rest of the building?"

Bray'lok nodded, then pulled his hood back up over his head. He turned to begin examination.

The Communication room had fared well since it had no windows or external walls. There was a fine layer of dust covering the equipment, and the roof slightly buckled but otherwise all was safe. He took a few moments to ensure power was still activated and that no messages had come in before sealing the room again.

Bray'lok took his time moving around the estate. He knew what Sarat had asked him to check. Make sure there's no traces of anyone coming in and finding things they shouldn't. Even though there was a general evacuation ordered, they had no proof that everyone got off planet. After a long, slow check involving a tricorder, and a trained eye he returned to the room adjacent to the communications room. In their line of work, even among allies and friends, there are places one just doesn't go.

"All is as it should be" Sarat concluded. "The damage to the buildings is not substantial, though we should move some of the more sensitive equipment for it's safety."

"There was no indication of any breach Sarat. It seems secure. Not even a trace of those damn monkeys." Bray'lok considered the sloth monkeys just about Tribles. He also knew he wasn't just looking for signs of a presence, but he was looking for those places that should have been, but weren't. The signs that someone had tried to cover their presence. He found none of that either.

"Very well. Ke'nar'ek should be returning soon with his assessment of the shop."

"Until then I plan to do a bit of cleaning." He picks up a broom and starts sweeping the broken glass into a pile.

"Good. I can have Nat send a retrieval team with the workers. It would be a convenient cover." Bray'lok found another broom, and started helping. He started life as an engineer, he wasn't above sweeping a floor when needed.

OFF

Sarat

and

Bray'lok

JANUARY 2003

Author: Kharon Brimstone
Title: ".. into the fire!"
ON:


It had taken over three hours for Kharon to get his bearings while avoiding any potential captors. Well it had felt like three hours, as he had no way of telling any concept of time. The building he was in was three stories high. His cell had been on the lowest level along with the goons quarters, the second level obviously comprised of some part of the main club facility but it offered no escape without risk of capture. He was stumbling around
the upper most level now, and by its opulent nature the trader guessed this might be the location of his jailor.

He was feeling the adrenaline from the day's activities beginning to have less and less of an affect on his body. His limbs were sore, his chest pulsed pain with every heartbeat and his vision was blurry at the best of times. But so close to his prize, there was no way he was leaving this place now.

Muffled laughter and music could be heard in the distance, and with large Orions gathered at an entrance, Kharon smiled, he had found what he was looking for. The two guards were milling around, not really paying much attention to anything but just chatting amongst themselves, but the only entrance that was visible was the one that they were "guarding". He slid down the wall and rested on the floor trying to figure out what to do. His breathing had now become difficult, so any kind of fighting and he would be back in his cell no doubt with another "fryer" in his chest. He sat listening for a few minutes, then a few minutes more.

"When are they ever going to do anything I can use?" he thought, his frustration getting to him.

Another age past, then one of the voices that was talking started moving towards the corner round which he was hidden. He pulled himself up quickly and pressed against the wall as much as he could. The Orion stepped round the corner and completely missed the human hidden in the shadows. Kharon was grateful that Orion interior designers were still going with the "damp and dingy" look. He paced forward behind the Orion, and summoning all his strength he slammed his balled fists down into the man neck. It wasn't enough to knock him out completely but his weapon skidded from his hand.

Kharon kicked the man while he was sprawled on the floor, niceties weren't an option, and soon the Orion slumped motionless on the floor. The other
guard had been calling out for the last few seconds, and his voice was also now approaching. Kharon fumbled for the weapon, and worked out where the trigger was in time to see the green-skinned one come wound the corner.

"Hi, bye."

He fired the weapon several times just to be sure the setting wasn't on stun. Picking up the second guards rifle, and slinging it over his shoulder
walked slowly and calmly down the corridor as he could. The doorway was an impressive guilt double door made out of solid wooden panels. Kharon slowly pushed one side open and slipped inside. The hall was as he remembered it, now more dimly lit than ever. Gefar had his harem of girls around him, and was oblivious to the approaching presence. That was until the door slammed closed.
"Guards, I said not to be disturbed."

"They're a little sleepy at the moment. Perhaps I could help you?"

Gefar eyes widened at the sound of the voice, and hit the control panel on the side of his chair expecting the cries of agony to ring out. They didn't, and as Kharon stepped forward he saw the still damp scar on his chest. He reached into his robe for a weapon, but stopped when the click of the disrupter sounded.

"Probably not the best move, given your current situation."

"Neither is yours, you will never escape here alive."

"I seem to recall you said that about my prison cell, but blow me. I'm here." His weapon raised higher as he spoke.

"Killing me will make you no better than those you hate so much. Those who enjoy killing. Or perhaps that is what you want, to finally enjoy killing for what it really is, a base instinct. "

"Perhaps, or maybe finally I understand why they do it." A slight pause.

"Did you ever once stop to think about how many you killed?"

"No, why would idea. I got ahead through pain and misery. I'm not going to sink back to that level of filth. Spare me your morality, we all operate with our own codes, our own set of rules. Yours and mine will never co-incide. You humans always have come compassion, it will be your undoing."

"You and me ARE different, but we cross on one level. We both hate each other, and that instinct is almost as powerful as my human 'compassion'."

"Ha, you are weak, you may have fought and won many battles, but you ARE weak. You are even now thinking about sparing my life, letting your justice be brought on a twised, depraved soul like me. You are pathetic, your minds are predictable, your race is predictable, you are spinless uselss pathetic predic..."

A disrupter blast cut short his attempt at a speech. Kharon didn't react in any way but continued to stare down his diruptor barrel to the now limp body of Gefar. A few seconds later, and a scream made him turn to his left. It was a high pitched noise and he thought for a moment that it could be one of the harem girls trying to avenge her former master. But instead, a small green-skined boy emerged from the shadows, tears pouring from his eyes. Kharon held back his lifelong experience, and moved his finger away from the trigger. He watched the boy move over to his dead father's body and collapse into it, weeping tears that Kharon had never seen from an Orion. He lowered his head in shame, he had done what he had hoped he would be able to do since leaving Deridous, but now regretted more than anything he had ever done before. The boy looked at him, and although they did not speak, they passed something between as they looked deep into each other's souls.

The cycle had not been ended here, it had just taken another step into eternity.

OFF:

Kharon Brimstone
Free Trader / Mercenary



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