NationStates Jolt Archive

For many thousands of years the many races in the region of Space known as the Abyss, (due to its seclusion from the rest of the universe.) have quarreled amongst each other. Now however they have formed a unity among themselves for the further benefit of all… in their new spirit of cooperation a joint fleet was assembled with members from all races, its purpose: to explore the worlds outside of the Abyss…

OOC: so, just have your ship(s) happen to be in the area or whatever works for you…

As of this point, I use both Stargate tech and races…

Just an fyi: the fleet is currently made up of this:

1 Ha’tak class Warship(the Osiris) carrying 1,000 personnel and 12 “Death Glider” Fighters

2 Prometheus class Frigates(Pintar and Fuller) Pintar carries 2 “Puddle Jumper” Shuttles and 6 F-302 Fighters, Fuller carries 2 Puddle Jumpers and 6 “Dart” Fighters…and 170 personnel each

3 Al’kesh class Bomber/Patrol ships(Argo, Lucias, and Hope) each with 17 personnel onboard

DO Info. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=8381392#post8381392)

A single Valignat cruiser and its escort of two frigates were currently in the system heading to the next jump point as they were on a rendezvous with the nearest system fleet. The space close to the fringes of Draconic Order was a flurry with activity as the wolf packs gathered for the next incursion. They detected the fluctuation in subspace as the Tagrana exploration fleet entered the system.

<Ekess unidentified craft: State douta identification.>
(Translation: To unidentified craft: State your identification.)

A single Pill-shaped starship slipped into Real Space, it seemed to just sit there and observe for a moment before heading to the nearest planet or gas giant and undertaking active scans of the planet. They apparently weren't interested in the Tagranams nor the Valignat Cruiser and it's cruiser.

Whatever they were looking for it was apparently important...

The GAS Celia jumped into the system and began active scans of the system. The destroyer was commanded by Commander Lawrence Speelman, its mission was to find suitable worlds for colonization. Suddenly the commander found a few contacts on his tactical display. "Lieutenant?"

"Sir!"

"What are these?" he pointed at the markers.

"Unknown contacts are in the system. Thats funny our forward scouts reported no one was here." More blips began to appear on the screen.

"I guess the scouts got it wrong." he said.

"Shall we make contact sir."

"We shall standby and observe."

"Yes sir."

The only reason why the Draconic Order was not interested in the system was because the system was dying. The sun was a white dwarf and the planets were all small, with meager resources. However the increase in contacts were making this system more of a target as a means to acquire information about the new emergence of several surrounding planet-nations that the DO had not encountered before. The warships of the Order started to slow down and turn into a patrol pattern, widely circling the system as they watched.

the fleet dropped out of hyperspace. their immediate scans picked up many ships of all sorts...

"Looks like we hit the jackpot on this jump, Captain."

"Indeed, it seems we have."

"We have a message coming from one of the ships!"

"lets hear it."

To unidentified craft: State your identification.

"well, open a channel."

"open, Sir."

"this is the cruiser Osiris of the Tagranan exploration fleet to unidentified craft, i hope this answers you question suitably for the moment."

The reply was sufficient and so a return reply was unnecessary. The DO ships were silent. The only thing that was aggressive about them was the massive scanning signal they were now emitting.

“Sir, the ships appear to be scanning us…”

“perhaps we should have asked them who they are…reopen our channel with them.”

“done.”

--

“this is the Osiris, we noticed your excessive amount of scanning, and we where wondering if you might do us a return favor, and tell us who you are?”

From listening in on the transmissions Lieutenant Torson turned to Commander Speelman, "They don't seem to be hostile sir. More like explorers."

"Don't let your guard down Lieutenant, they may seem like explorers at first."

"Yes sir. Course of action?"

"Initiate contact. Open frequency."

This is the GAS Destroyer Celia, Commander Lawrence Speelman speaking. We are interested in opening diplomatic relations with your people on behalf of the Ganoxian Council. Please respond.

Whatever was happening elsewhere in the system, this unknown pill-shaped ship continued it's searching for whatever it was searching for. The prescence of more ships in the system obviously a point of concern, however it did not deviate from it's task.

After scanning the outmost planet, it started to head off to another one... obviously whatever they were looking for, it wasn't there.

There was no reply to the Osiris.

As the transmission from the Celia was sent to the Tagrana, another small group of ships bearing the same identifying marks of the DO ships entered the system. However, these were lightly armed transport and supply vessels with a small escort of a single frigate and three squadrons of corvettes. Most likely they were heading toward the same end as the cruiser and its escorts.

They seemed to be immediately alarmed that there was a number of unidentified ships in the system, as their shields and weapons powered up, and the escorts began forming around their charges.

The Federation Starship USS Chatham, one of the original batch of Constitution-class starships that had been commissioned some decades ago, had been assigned to the exploration of deep space in this sector and had been operating for almost three years on this mission. Thus far her exploratory mission had been somewhat uneventful, having discovered only three pre-industrial civilisations and charting only twenty-four potentially habitable planets on her lengthy trawl through space. After three years away from home, with another two on the horizon, her crew had become somewhat pessimistic and depressed, longing to see the fertile plains of New Eden, the sprawling tundra of Novus Romulus, the endless deserts of Elaria, or the desolate ice wastes of Andoriana once again (dependant upon their world of origin, of course).

Her commander, one Captain Juranus, originated from Novus Romulus and was equally eager to see his homeworld again, if only for a moment. All too aware of the mood of the rest of his crew, Juranus had made certain efforts to improve their attitudes over the course of their journey. Regular events were held in the various recreational areas of the ship, ranging from the mundane such as randomly inviting crew members to the officers' mess, to the more intense such as kick boxing matches in the gym or dogfighting contests on the rec deck. His measures had helped somewhat, but Doctor McMannon was still reporting alarmingly high numbers of crew members being treated for acute depression. Life in space was neither as glamorous nor exciting as those planet-bound led themselves to believe.

Juranus contemplated this as he made his way through the corridors on deck three. Much like the other ships in the fleet, Constitution-class starships sported a utilitarian, somewhat spartan design philosophy as would be expected in what was, by all intents and purposes, a military vessel. Everything was so 'clean', with soft whites and greys adorning the walls, simple lighting, exposed rivets and joins, and all manner of signs identifying doors and warning of dangerous circuitry. While it served its purpose as a practical layout, such decor did not do much to inspire feelings of homeliness amongst its occupants. Indeed, he noticed that his crew went about their business without so much of a smile, and everybody in this crowded corridor seemed to walk around with their head down. Even simple manners had been supplemented by boredom and misery.

"Ah, Commander," Juranus said, noticing that one of the aforementioned crew members was his first officer. Unlike his first months aboard the Chatham, Commander Michael Davies had the flap of his burgundy tunic pulled down in a most unflattering fashion, and even his Starfleet insignia was placed on his rank strap crooked. Such were the lax standards Juranus was facing, even from his own executive officer.

"Captain," Davies looked up and nodded respectfully. "My latest personnel report is on your desk sir. It makes for... interesting reading."

"Walk with me, Commander," Juranus said, gesturing in the direction he was headed. The Commander almost visibly sighed, but snapped back into his professional manner and nodded, with a feigned smile.

"What's on your mind, sir?" Davies asked, as they began to walk around the slightly curved corridor.

"Morale, Commander," Juranus said. "As you are no doubt aware, ship's morale is at an all-time low."

"Aye sir," Davies nodded. He slipped his hands behind his back and raised his head, a refreshing change from the slumped posture he had adopted of late. "Three years, two months and fifteen days of deep space travel will do that to a man."

"Quite," Juranus sighed. "I am interested to hear if you have thought of any more steps I might take to rectify the situation somewhat. Although somewhat productive, the events I have arranged to take place have started to lose their impact."

"May I speak frankly, Captain?"

"By all means, Commander," Juranus nodded.

"The only way you're going to improve morale is to either announce that we're turning back home, or to discover something interesting," Davies said bluntly. "We all signed up to defend the Federation and to explore 'exciting new things', and we've done neither in three years."

"We have our orders, Commander," Juranus told him. "I cannot simply turn the ship around and head for home just because people are homesick."

"With all respect sir, Starfleet Command is only sixteen hours away by subspace signal," Davies said. "Call 'em up and tell 'em that morale is dangerously low. They'll send another ship out here later. We're not on a particularly crucial mission. Not crucial enough to endanger lives because our crew needs shore leave."

"If only it were that simple, Commander," Juranus shrugged. "I'm afraid any solution to our predicament will have to be more mundane than a return trip home. Starfleet wants this region charted. Long-range observatories can't see into this area clearly and so a ship is required. We are, as they say, it. Have you any more practical ideas?"

"Find a nice tropical planet somewhere and set up camp for a couple of weeks," Davies suggested. "Get a few Orion dancing women over for added measure..."

Juranus laughed. "If we find such a planet, I shall be the first to beam down, Commander."

Both of them looked up as the computer chimed and made an announcement over the intercom. Such emergency announcements were rare on this mission, with the only matters of interest these days being probe inventories and the occasional power brownout on deck six, which Chief Thrope continually insisted had been 'sorted'.

"Now hear this, now hear this: All senior officers to the bridge. Unknown starships have been detected. All officers to the bridge."

Juranus looked at Davies for a moment, who returned his bemused glance with equal confusion. The same thought ran through both of their heads - was a bored night watch officer playing a practical joke on them all? Regardless, they promptly accelerated their pace to a jog and dove into the nearest turbolift, headed straight for the bridge.



They both emerged simultaneously onto the circular command centre of the Chatham, despite the door being too narrow for both of them to exit at once, and moved to stand side-by-side in the 'bunker' - their affectionate term for the slightly lowered area in the centre of the bridge, where the command chair resided just behind the helm.

"Status report, Ensign," Juranus asked the helmsman, Ensign Demura Salo, a surprisingly docile Bajoran woman who often took command of the conn during the twilight shift. She was quite old to be an ensign, but this was due to the fact that she had originally joined Starfleet as a non-comm and only graduated from the Academy a few months before the Chatham set off from Spacedock.

"Captain, we have dropped out of warp after detecting numerous starships of alien origin, roughly three point two billion kilometres off our bow," she told him, in a husky voice that often warmed the bridge somewhat.

"Ah," Juranus exclaimed, seeing a human step from the turbolift and hurry himself over to the science station. "Lieutenant Horton, please check our passive sensors and see if you can't take a reading on the starships we have run across. And try to wake up on time for duty from now on."

"Aye sir," Greg Horton said with a scowl, plunging his face against the scanners.

Juranus waited patiently, peering with intent at the viewscreen as it zoomed in on the numerous starships that lay ahead of them. While it was refreshing to run across some manner of civilisation on this uneventful journey, it also evoked certain feelings of apprehension as he wondered as to their purpose and motives. His Romulan heritage screamed out caution, urging him to take the ship to battle conditions and be ready for anything. Meanwhile, his Starfleet training proposed a less aggressive approach, prompting him to make contact and avoid any form of confrontation. As he often found it best to listen to both halves of his being equally and take a compromised approach, he went for a half-way measure.

"Commander, bring the ship to condition yellow," Juranus said to Davies quietly.

"Aye sir," Davies nodded, disappearing behind him out of his range of view to operate some controls. Moments later, the computer announced alert condition yellow, and as he glanced behind him at ship status monitors he noted with pleasure that emergency forcefields were charged around the various critical areas of the ship, though main shields remained down.

"Captain," Horton announced at last. "Alien vessels do not match any configurations in our library. They are conducting scans of each other and appear to be exchanging communications."

"Lieutenant Mirana, can you intercept any of them?" Juranus asked the Andorian communications officer on the opposite side of the bridge. She held an earpiece to the side of her head and operated numerous monitors that displayed various complex-looking wavelengths, but she shook her head after a moment.

"Negative Captain," Mirana said.

"Very well," Juranus nodded, looking back at the bridge. "In that case, let's add some noise of our own to the morass. 'Tis only polite, after all. Run through all linguacode."

"Aye sir," Mirana said, tapping at her panels. "Channel open."

"This is Captain Juranus, commanding the Federation Starship USS Chatham," the captain spoke loud and clear. "We come with no hostile intent. Our mission is one of exploration. I'd like to make contact with anybody interested in diplomatic relations.."

The Fleet of the Expedition Crusade noticed the large amount of ships in one area, and decided that sending the entire fleet would not help in making the potential allies relaxed, a single ship was sent out, The Lifebreather, command ship of Apostle Vigilus.

As it got closer, it recieved a message;This is Captain Juranus, commanding the Federation Starship USS Chatham, We come with no hostile intent. Our mission is one of exploration. I'd like to make contact with anybody interested in diplomatic relations..

"Greetings Captain, this is the Lifebreather, capital ship of Apostle Vigilus, the Apostle would be glad to meet you, as our intent is also of exploration."

"Another Federation..."

Muttered a man in a well-pressed gray suit. By his adornment, several badges of merit and a few gold decorations, and the way he stood on the bridge, it was obvious that he was the captain. The bridge he stood on was that of the cruiser currently in the system.

The Draconic Order were a race of dragonoids, a cross between a human and a lizard, as some would see them. Whether they looked more like humans or giant, armored lizards was a matter of genetics that had a lot of confusing science behind the explanation. This one was the latter.

He brought his hand up to his chin and scratched at the thin graying scales with a sharp claw. Underneath his uniform was the same color skin, or to put it better, his armored hide. Like the steel mail of the Dark Ages, the tough scales layered themselves on top of his body like a second skin, formed of hundreds of tiny platelets. Such armor was a natural benefit for a soldier of the Draconic Order, allowing them to outlast a lesser foe.

He turned from the main screen as he heard an alert signal. After he inquired about the noise he learned that a convoy that was heading to the sector fleet was coming through this system and had contacted his ship after noticing it, and that they were scared of the current number of unidentified ships.

The captain sighed.

"Order our ships to head for the convoy, we'll be escorting it across the system."

With the command given, the cruiser and the two frigates turned and headed for the convoy.

"Another ship... this is getting most alarming."

"Yes, what do you want us to do about it sir?"

"Do a wide broadcast to all ships... tell them intereferance with our affairs will not be tolerated."

And so a wide sprectrum messsage, hologram, text, video sound and every other way of communication known to human and non-human kind.

"We are scouring, this system looking for something specific. Do not interfere with our search or you will find there be consequences more than perhaps you can deal with."

The shields and weapons were charged and ready, but made no deviation from their scanning of each planet.

After hearing all the messages Speelman leaned back in his chair. His tactical display in front of him was showing multiple contacts, miniature pictures of the ships. "Quite a party we got going here. Lieutenant Oppen."

"Yes sir!"

"Activate temporal shielding. Manually have turrets facing the ship charging up its weapons. I don't want this ship be unprepared when they go trigger happy."

Oppen turned to the crewman and gave them their orders. Speelman turned to Torson, "Torson, open all frequencies."

This is the GAS Celia (http://s13.photobucket.com/albums/a287/GeneralZhukov3333/?action=view&current=TopKotorClassDestroyerMkII.jpg) to all ships newcoming and present. We are hear on a prospecting mission to found new settlements for our bourgeoning populus. For those who wish to engage in diplomatic relations we can send a Signal Corp Fighter (http://s13.photobucket.com/albums/a287/GeneralZhukov3333/?action=view&current=stealth.jpg) to your respective ships and start the process from there.

the Captain of the Osiris watched as more and more ships began appearing in the system and more and more messages began flying around...

"i think its time we sent a message to everyone, open a channel, all frequencies of all known forms of communication..."

"this is Morra, Captain of the Osiris and Commanding Officer of the Tagranan exploration fleet. We all seem to be here for a reason...some of you, like us for exploration, others for something else. But whatever your reason i think it might help us all, and give my quite an honor, if we could somehow organize this mess of communication by sending representatives to a single ship...so we may all discuss whatever we have to say in person...I now offer Osiris as the very ship we may use for this...some of you may not agree to that, so i ask any who are willing to send a reply stating just that. Any unwilling, well, we would like to meet you as well in some way and i am sure we can work that out. End transmission."

This is Morra, Captain of the Osiris and Commanding Officer of the Tagranan exploration fleet. We all seem to be here for a reason...some of you, like us for exploration, others for something else. But whatever your reason i think it might help us all, and give my quite an honor, if we could somehow organize this mess of communication by sending representatives to a single ship...so we may all discuss whatever we have to say in person...I now offer Osiris as the very ship we may use for this...some of you may not agree to that, so i ask any who are willing to send a reply stating just that. Any unwilling, well, we would like to meet you as well in some way and i am sure we can work that out. End transmission

Vigilus grunted. "Open up a communication Captain, I am getting tired of asking and waiting."
"Yes Apostle" The Captain said, nodding at Vigilus and typing in a few commands to the main computer.
"Greetings Osiris, I would be happy to be the representative of the Isan Empire and the Legions of the Prophets of Isa. I will send my ship as quickly as possible, please do not be alarmed if my shields and weapons will still be powered, you may want peace but I'm not sure the others do either. Hopefully The Isan Empire can gain something from this encounter."

By now the convoy had reached the next jump point and left the system. However the cruiser and its escorts stayed behind as a holder of the Order's power in the system. The reason for this is that a draconic fleet was currently using the system to send ships and supplies through. At the moment it seemed that they would be neutral to the whole affairs going on around them, but they seemed uninterested in joining the cluster.

OOC: Just to mix things up abit..

The Trailarii took absolutely no notice of these events. Not that they could react, spread thin as they were.

OOC: lol Trailers

IC:
"Could be good to participate..." suggested the Communications officer, her name was Trillian

" a bit later, perhaps we could get some work. But we got to find him first"
the captain smiled

"Are you sure he's here? I'm not picking up anything on the scans" said the man controlling the sensors

"Of course he is, we followed his trail didn't we? He's got to be here. don't bother me... We'll flush him out."

"So... you want me to...?" asked the Communications officer.

"Yes, send it we can't give him any respite."


Mora, Captain of the Osiris. This is Gerald, Captain of the TGMS 262. We are currently looking for an armed and dangerous criminal who we believe has recently set down on one of these planets. We will attend, but we must at first apprehend this criminal. Thank you for the offer.


The second planet was obviously a dud as well, so they started heading towards the centre of the system, towards the only planet inside the "life zone" of the star.

This however lead to a curious event ocuring... From the surface of the same planet a corvette launched... It seemed old and decrepit but looks can certainly fool. particularly there's a TGM engineer on the scene. He broadcast his own message to the Osiris


This is Nathanual, formerly of The Garbage Men, I am NOT a dangerous criminal, these charges are completely false. I am being persecuted because of my opposition to the corporate structure, one that essential makes slaves of all that work under it. I'm asking for Political refuge.


The question now was how the Osiris would respond...

Lieutenant Torman, a Signal Corp Squadron pilot, flew out of the hangar of the Celia. He turned the craft towards the Osiris when suddenly he saw the large corvette flying towards the same destination. "Come in Home Base, I have an unidentified bogey coming in on my six. Please advise."

"Copy that Radio 1, continue on course. Do not deter from present course."

"I copy, over and out." he said watching the rear screen. He sped up to the Osiris and called in. "Come in Osiris this is Radio Onem representing the Celia, permission to come aboard over."

several transmissions where recived and sent by the Osiris...


"Greetings Osiris, I would be happy to be the representative of the Isan Empire and the Legions of the Prophets of Isa. I will send my ship as quickly as possible, please do not be alarmed if my shields and weapons will still be powered, you may want peace but I'm not sure the others do either. Hopefully The Isan Empire can gain something from this encounter."

"We plan to activate shields as soon as all willing parties arrive to maintain a defensive stance against any aggressors our there. we await your arrival."

"I copy, over and out." he said watching the rear screen. He sped up to the Osiris and called in. "Come in Osiris this is Radio Onem representing the Celia, permission to come aboard over."

"Permission granted Celia, sending docking coordinates for Radio Onem now."

Morra, Captain of the Osiris. This is Gerald, Captain of the TGMS 262. We are currently looking for an armed and dangerous criminal who we believe has recently set down on one of these planets. We will attend, but we must at first apprehend this criminal. Thank you for the offer.

(Secure transmission)
This is the Osiris to Captain Gerald, due to our lack of information regarding your people, we are currently granting requested Political refuge to the stated criminal, he is to be placed under close watch however, and you may also come aboard. pending further investigation we have little doubt that we will turn over said criminal.


This is Nathanual, formerly of The Garbage Men, I am NOT a dangerous criminal, these charges are completely false. I am being persecuted because of my opposition to the corporate structure, one that essential makes slaves of all that work under it. I'm asking for Political refuge.

"We have decided to grand you your requested refuge. However, due to our lack of information regarding you and your pursuers, you will be placed under a watch and guard for the time being, and they will be permitted to attend this previously stated meeting"

We will come to this conference, the charges against him are serious, Terrorist Activities, Selling of Corporate Secrets and Murder of various security personnel.

We trust that you will make the right decision and hand his custody over to us after the conference ends.


The response from the TGMS 262 was also encrypted using the same methods as the Osiris. It seems they already had the encryption method on file.

Meanwhile Nathanuel was closing quickly

Okay, but the charges are fabricated, All the evidence they have against me is forged and they know it. I want to be there too to be able to defend myself and make sure everyone knows the truth. Are you able to handle the corvette, or do I need to use the pod to come on board?

Another convoy entered the system, this time with a carrier battle group. Some subspace messages had been fired off during the last convoy, probably to bring the carrier group into the system. It was also likely that this was the last convoy going through the system that day and the carrier group was the rear-guard. There were four carriers with a few frigates and a few squadrons of corvettes. The carriers were modified cruisers, stripping weapons for fighter bays.

Whatever the reason for their arrival, the lead carrier sent out a transmission to all the ships in the system.

<Ekess shio vessels: Wer Vs'shtak Meage claims nomeno system, wux ornla chiili algbo ekess shivi douta actions while persvek Vs'shtak Meage space.>
(To all vessels: The Draconic Order claims this system, you would do well to watch your actions while in Draconic Order space.)

We plan to activate shields as soon as all willing parties arrive to maintain a defensive stance against any aggressors our there. we await your arrival

Vigilus grunted, and stood up from his throne in the middle of the bridge. "Prepare my ship." He muttered, and was about to go when one of the workers at the communications drive shouted out to him.
"Apostle, there is another message;"
To all vessels: The Draconic Order claims this system, you would do well to watch your actions while in Draconic Order space Read the cyborg next to the communications officer. Vigilus grunted again.
"I'm sure our good Captain from the Osiris can get him over to his ship, if not, well, we'll see what Isa has in store for us, oh and Capain?" He called over to a man plotting some course on a map spread across one of the many tables in the bridge. He looked up, and nodded at the Apostle "Yes sir?"
"Awaken "The Angel", he will represent the Deathshawl, I will have need of him." He muttered, walking away.

And with that, the battleship got closer to the Osiris, and shot a small pod into the docking bays of the grand ship.

*bump*

*Bump*

OOC: just so you know, Tagrana has been busy, but will reply ASAP. thought you should know

((Sounds good.))

The bridge was a quiet place of late. People had pretty much talked about everything they had to talk about during the quiet lulls, and simply went about their duties in silence. From a Starfleet perspective, Juranus found it to be quite acceptable that the bridge was such a formal, professional place even when they were just sitting around waiting - after all, if the command centre for the entire starship wasn't formal, where could be? From a personal perspective though, he found it quiet unsettling. Even when his presence was not there, he had heard from Commander Davies that the bridge still remained silent, and any moralised crew would at least perk up and chat about something quietly once in a while.

Aside from anything else, it was boring. They sat here, in space, at yellow alert, and he had nothing to do but wait. The captain's chair was a lonely place at the best of times, but when the crew didn't even talk to each other... that was pretty bad. He almost found himself praying that some of those alien starships out there would start firing at them just so that he had something to do, some orders to give. But no, for the time being everything was fairly calm, if somewhat tense and apprehensive. He consigned himself to the possibility that the crew were simply nervous, and let the thought slip from his mind.

Glancing across the bridge he heard the turbolift doors hiss open and out stepped Chief Thrope. Her actual title was Commander, but chief engineers had a peculiar penchant for preferring people to address them as 'chief', even though such a rank title would be more fitting to a non-commissioned officer. She was actually fairly skilled at her job, one of the best in the fleet Juranus liked to believe, but like many others she had suffered from the same onset of depression and boredom that the rest of the crew had endured on this dull trip, and her duties were beginning to lax a little. Basic maintenance duties were not being adequately performed, which on a ship as old as this was never a good thing, and problems which she repeatedly insisted had been fixed often bubbled back to the surface as though nothing had changed. Lately, she was even beginning to skip departmental meetings, so Juranus wasn't even sure what it was that she had been doing for the last couple of weeks.

The engineer circled her way around the railings that seperated the command area from the surrounding bridge stations and dropped roughly down to the Captain's level, standing beside his seat. The flap of her tunic hung loosely open in a most uncouth manner, and a number of dark smudges plastered both her uniform and her pale skin.

"Captain, the power outages across deck six and seven have been sorted," Thrope informed him quietly. Her voice was husky, grating even, and she spoke with a peculiar accent which many scholars believed to originate from a place called Britian, on Old Earth.

"Very good Chief," Juranus nodded. "I do not suppose you have those personnel reports from the last departmental meeting yet, do you?"

"I'm workin' on it Captain," she said with a stifled sigh. "Thought you should know that the emergency deflector around the starboard nacelle is bein' a bit finicky again. I'd like permission to take the field generator offline to repair it."

Juranus sighed and pointed at the viewscreen, which had been zoomed to focus in on the morass of alien ships that lay but a short distance from them. "Chief, now is not the best time. Can it not wait?"

"Sure Captain," she said. "I'll get right on it after they've blown our nacelle off."

Juranus found himself sighing for a second time. Her attitude hadn't improved much either. "Very well Chief, take it offline. You have got fifteen minutes. Not a minute longer."

"But it'll take at least half an..."

"Not a minute longer," Juranus interrupted her pleading. "Now, I will need for you to remain in engineering, pending possible action."

"Aye, sir," Thrope mumbled, and mock-saluted as she stepped up to the higher level of the bridge and made her way back to the turbolift.

"Commander," Juranus beckoned his first officer over. "Emergency deflectors around the starboard nacelle will be down for a short while. Ensure that we are prepared to raise shields the very moment they are necessary."

"I'll get on it sir," Davies nodded. "We won't be caught with our pants down."

"Captain! We are being hailed!" Mirana announced suddenly, her antennae twitching excitedly. Of all the crew members, the Lieutenant seemed to be the most content with their mission, which was somewhat reassuring. Not much, but somewhat.

"Let us hear it Lieutenant," Juranus nodded. He stood up and straightened his uniform as the Andorian hurriedly operated her slick, glossy control panels. The speakers chimed as the message began playing.

"This is Morra, Captain of the Osiris and Commanding Officer of the Tagranan exploration fleet. We all seem to be here for a reason...some of you, like us for exploration, others for something else. But whatever your reason i think it might help us all, and give my quite an honor, if we could somehow organize this mess of communication by sending representatives to a single ship...so we may all discuss whatever we have to say in person...I now offer Osiris as the very ship we may use for this...some of you may not agree to that, so i ask any who are willing to send a reply stating just that. Any unwilling, well, we would like to meet you as well in some way and i am sure we can work that out. End transmission."

Juranus stood in silent contemplation for a few moments, considering the implications of the contents of the message and an appropriate course of action to take. As the first remotely civilised peoples to have been encountered on this mission, it would be prudent to establish positive contact with them as soon as possible. But once more, his Romulan blood screamed caution and suspicion, as it always seemed to do. Something about that ship, its name, its design, didn't seem quite 'right' somehow.

"Sounds like a trap," Commander Davies said, breaking the silence at last. He glanced around the bridge, as all of its occupants turned to look at him with frowns on their faces, and he shrugged. "Well it does!"

"Commander, you say that about everything," Juranus remarked casually, sitting down in his chair again and crossing his legs in an unusual display of informality.

"Yeah sir," Horton spoke up. "You even said that about a comet we were tracking last year."

"We weren't thinking of beaming over to that comet though," Davies said.

"Commander, this is the first space-faring civilisation we have had the fortune to encounter on this expedition since it began," Juranus told him. "Not only that, but there may be numerous others present too. Given our primary mission objective, it would be somewhat irresponsible of us to turn and run without at least meeting with them, would you not say?"

"Aye sir," Davies sighed.

"Lieutenant, open a channel to the Osiris please," Juranus said.

"You're on, Captain," Mirana announced as she turned away from her console to look at him after a brief pause.

"This is Captain Juranus, of the USS Chatham," he said. "We find your terms to be most acceptable. It would be pleasing to meet with you aboard your ship, and I personally shall be beaming over in a moment in the hopes of establishing positive relations between our two cultures. I look forward to meeting you. Juranus out."

"You, personally?" Davies said after a short pause. Protest was rife within the tone of his voice, and Juranus immediately recognised it to be a question of his decision.

"Yes, Commander," Juranus said. "Me personally. You shall have the conn while I am away, and no, I do not need to be reminded of the regulations governing Captains journeying away from their ships. I shall take appropriate security personnel, do not concern yourself."

"Aye, sir."

***

Juranus made the short journey down to the main transporter room. It was at times like these that he was glad to serve aboard a Constitution-class starship, rather than the more prestigious Excelsior-class - at least it made for less walking, being a little smaller as it was.

Immediately he was presented with the clean and tidy transporter room, with its familiar hum being a welcome sound. In their early days, particularly during the Old Federation of the Before Time, these complex devices were renowned for being unreliable and occasionally even dangerous. These days, however, developments over the last few hundred years had made them infinitely less worrisome pieces of equipment, to the point where many people felt as safe in their buffers as they did in the corridors. Certainly he found it more comforting than flying around in a tiny, exposed shuttlecraft to get about.

Standing behind the glass panel in the control booth, two ensigns nodded at him as they prepared the system for operations. They had already been informed of the task at hand and where the Captain wished to go, and were ready and waiting to send him there. Three security officers, in their red and beige Starfleet-signified body armour that was slightly reminiscent of 'American football' kits (which Juranus had only seen in pictures), stood to attention as he approached. Phasers on safe were holstered at their sides, sleek black weapons designed to ensure his safety where words failed.

"Let us get to work, shall we?" Juranus said at last, and was welcomed to a series of 'aye sirs' from the various officers present. Stepping aside graciously to allow the security officers onto the transporter pad, he was the last to step within the glowing alcove, with its black walls belying the bright light emanating from the circular pads. "Engergise."

The transporter chief nodded, and swept his fingers across the glossy black panel in front of him. Juranus' body tingled as he was engulfed by a column of sparkling blue light, which bathed the entire room with its radiance. The world around him faded as he was dismantled at a molecular level, and then he became a matter stream, zooming across space to be re-materialised almost instantly aboard an alien ship, not knowing what he might find there...

"They seem to be assembling... Send the Seer, we will have her give our terms."

The captain of the cruiser commanded as he watched the situation unfold before him. The officer that stood near the commander bowed, clicking his heels in understanding, and then left the bridge with all due haste. The message was passed along until it reached the Seer, to meet in the docking bay for a diplomatic mission.

A woman wearing a blindfold, dressed in white, was the one summoned to the shuttle. She had several attendants, for she was aged, and her hair was almost the color of her robes. The Seer held onto the arm of a young girl, who not so much as led the Seer as to keep the Seer moving at a constant pace.

When the Seer arrived, the small detachment that was to be her bodyguard bowed in reverence, as the Seers were a high caste in Draconic society and deserved respect. They allowed her to board before they trooped up behind, taking their own seats separate from the Seer and her entourage. The bay doors opened with a whoosh, revealing a blue field of energy that kept the void out.

"Send the transmission, then launch the shuttle and escort."

<Yth re sending svern vi delegation.>
(Translation: We are sending over a delegation.)

One of the carriers launched a squadron of interceptors to escort the shuttle as it launched from the cruiser.

A small, inconspicuous shuttle arrived it seemed to be a strange amalgum of designs that just didn't lock in together.

Inside was only one person, we he looked human, and decent scan would reveal a robotic frame under the flesh covering. However it seemed to be designed into the form, as a way of perhaps alleviating some concerns, it is well known that some races and people have a strong aversion to artificial intelligence constructs.

Meanwhile on board 262...

"So Draconic Order are claiming this system, eh?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

"Of course it is, don't be an idiot."

"okay, I'll try not to sir."

"Good. Oh, do we know if any one else has recognised their claim here?"

"There has been no chatter between them and anyone else except what we believe to be an announcement that their delegation is on their way."

"Hmmm, keep a monitor on that, see if anyone else recognises their claim as it had just been made and let me know."

"Yes Sir, Will do."

"Good, remember who you report to in the corporate chain of command and you should do just fine."

"Yes Sir, Thank you sir."

To be honest, it wasn't that he thought the kid (well, he was for his species at 35 years of age, don't ask, you don't want to know.) he just liked hearing the word "Sir".

As the diplomatic shuttle approached the Tagrana vessel, it sent out for permission to dock.

*Courtesy bump.*

((Poor Tagrana, as we have yet to hear your sweet voice once more grace the thread you have created. Woe is us who wait patiently in the moor for once more renewed an rp. *Lays down as if fainted. Awaits applause.*))

((Is Tagrana around anymore?))

I think something;s taken him away from NS for a while...

Pity... I would have liked to have done what I was planing....
BWHAHAHAHAHAAH