NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Anyone can join, obviously. I don’t want a huge battle, at least not straight out, so please keep it to small engagements, if any. Peaceful relations are always welcome, and help in adverting the crises that always seem to plague new colonies would be appreciated.

IC:
The Senate House loomed ever closer as Senate Leader Ivan Gerovani walked down the street of the Moran capital of Masson, which also served as the capital for all of Moravria. He was flanked by two men in standard suits and black trench coats, wielding sunglasses to hide their eyes from the knowledge of the public. The years had weighed heavily on Geronavi, who was now well into his sixties. He face was wrinkled and seemed to be in a perpetual state of sullenness. It was a gentle face, though, and many a crisis had been avoided by a few gentle words from this great orator, and a smile in the direction of any malcontents.

This day Geronavi was heading to the senate house to discuss the sensitive issue of the colonization of foreign worlds. Since the invention of FTL travel, and the discovery that not only is Moravria not alone in the universe, but there are a multitude of other nations, has lead some senators to advocate colonizing worlds beyond the Moravrian System, and to create a great military power to protect Moravria from her enemies. These senators had done well on the issue of military, as the Moravrian Space Security had grown significantly over the five years since First Contact with the rest of the galaxy. Fleet Ships had been built, missile designed improved, kinetic energy weapons refined from the rudimentary guns that were on older MSS craft. The flagship of the navy, the MSS Freedom, was nearing completion and would soon be ready for military service. The infantry forces had also been expanded, and better trained. Millions now stand ready to defend Moravrian and her friends to the death.

The issue of Colonization had not done so well, however. Many in the senate felt that isolation was the way to protect Moravria, to built a military and be content to sit in the Moravrian System, pointing guns and missiles at whoever was unlucky enough to wandering into protected space. Colonization was an unnecessary step in their opinion, something that would open up Moravria to be attacked, and in the end only spell the demise of the nation. The others felt just the opposite; that colonization would allow Moravria to grow and prosper. Tempers flared over the months, then years, of endless discussion and infighting, and Geronavi had grown tired of it. It was to end today, either Moravria would colonize, or it would not colonize.

The Senate Leader walked up the steps to the huge governmental building, walking through the old oak doors that loomed ominously overhead. He walked with an air of complete control about him, though inside he knew that this day would see much fighting, and he would need to act once more as the mediator to avoid conflict. Hr marched onto the senate floor, leaving his bodyguards in the senate lobby, and took his position in front of the assembled Senate of Moravria. He called the meeting to order, and immediately a plethora of comments were made, one overlapping the last at first, and then all at once, in a loud clamor. Shouts of “Colonize, colonize” could be hear intertwined with the equally powerful “Isolate, isolate.” Suddenly Geronavi stood up from his chair, and in a powerful voice addressed the assembly, no longer with his gentle caring face, but with anger and rage.

“Enough! I will not have this meeting be reduced to petty ramblings and useless chants! This will be an organized discussion; our first issue to be settled will be that of colonization. I expect to have an answer today, we have done research, we have done poles, and we have argued over it for years. It will be decided today, and until it is not one of us will leave this senate house,” the Senate Leader sat back down, once again assuming the face of gentleness. “Now, first we will hear the arguments against colonization.”

Speeches were made, opinions heard, tempers flared. Over the course of the day many spoke, other jeered, and some just sat in disgust while their opponents made their arguments. A few times people began senseless yelling, only to once again be subdued by the voice of Geronavi. They broke for lunch, and then reconvened. They broke for dinner, then reconvened. Finally, after many, many hours, a vote was called. Geronavi asked for those in favor of colonization to raise their hands, then those against. The tally was in: Moravria would colonize.

--

Captain Titro looked out at black space from the command chair of his brand new -class frigate. After commanding the first FTL voyage and first contact with other species, he was a natural choice to lead the effort to find a habitable planet near the Moravrian System. He commanded the classes namesake, the [i]Nomion. It was fast attack vessel designed to close the distance between itself and capital ships quickly and wreak havoc on their weapons systems and shielding. The ship was 75 meters long and ¼ as wide at its widest point, though the bridge was significantly narrower than that. The frigate was armed with 12 rapid-fire turboblasters designed to overwhelm the enemy with shear firepower. It had wings that extended outward and downward at an angle, then curving around to end parallel to the body of the ship. These gave the Nomion the ability to engage in conventional atmospheric flight, making her a perfect vessel for exploration.

Four ships of its type had been built so far, the Nomion, the Axe, the Duty, and the Loyalty. They had been sent, in pairs, to the systems immediately surrounding Moravria, in search of planets suitable for colonization. Titro had been looking for weeks now, going from one system to the next. They had found absolutely nothing, it becoming a monotonous task to jump to system, scan for life, check all planets, go atmospheric if possible, and report back to MSS command. Titro sighed as the winding white tunnel of hyperspace slowed down, becoming instead the eerie pitch blackness of real space. They had arrived at one of the last systems they were scheduled to check, and once again the task fell on them to search it for habitable planets.

“Report,” Titro said, though the officers on the bridge already knew what was expected of them, as they had done this very thing countless times before.

“Scanners show no sentient life,” one sensory officer said.

“Binary system, white dwarf orbiting a yellow dwarf, about the size of our sun, sir, “ another one said automatically, out of sheer habit.

The communications officer was next, “Sir, no communications on any channel, we are alone here.”

Finally, the third sensory officer on the bridge reported in, but instead of droning on, she jumped out of her chair, “Sir, initial readings show 5 planets in system, one of them is a 95% match to our requirements.”

Titro, now intrigued more than bored, picked his head up a bit higher, being careful not to seem too excited, in case it was another false alarm, “Pilot, bring us to the planet, go atmospheric. Ready a landing party, we are going out there.”

--


A mechanical voice was hear over the radio comlink, “Heart rate and respiration nominal. Life support online. Commencing pod lockdown. Initiating cryogenic freezing. Cryo lockdown.”

“Control, cryo is complete. Bringing navigation systems online.”

“Copy that. We are reading green across the board.”

“Good to hear. Bringing engines online. “

“All systems are go for ignition. Launch in t-minus 10 minutes and counting.”

Joesphic S’kativ sat in the pilots chair of the Moravrian colony ship Candid, waiting for the go to launch his ship into hyperspace to start a new colony. After Captain Titro had discovered a system audible for colonization, now called the Lance system, a colony ship of a few thousand had been commissioned to start a new colony for Moravria. While the ship had FTL capabilities, all non-essential personnel, especially civilians with little or no FTL experience, were put into cryo-sleep to prevent hyperspace sickness, which was still common because of Moravria’s relatively crude FTL technology.

A small fleet had been assembled to aid the colony ship. Aggressor-class cruisers, Spirit-class frigates, and Gluttony-class transports all were present to protect and provode supplies for the colonists. Some ships, including the four Nomion frigates were already on the Planet Lance, readying it for the first Moravrian colonists to ever leave the Moravrian system. The Colonial Fleet, as it was officially called by MSS Command, sat above Vria, waiting for permission to launch. As the ships sat in orbit they could see the Freedom, future flagship of the navy, weeks away from completion, as it sat in a shipyard also orbiting the gas giant.

S’kativ sat in his pilot chair, nervously twiddling his thumbs, when a voice was heard over the radio, “Captain, this is MSS Command, you are cleared for jump. Wait for the Aggressors in front of you to jump, and then initiate hyperspace.” S’kitav confirmed his orders and waited for the smaller cruisers to jump.

Suddenly they did, one second they were as visible as the hair on his arms, but the next they were gone, having left this dimension all together. “This is Captain S’kitav, initiating FTL…now”

--

Poof. That is how it looked to the Colonial Fleet when the Candid entered Real Space near Lance. It had taken several days to make the trip, even at FTL speeds, and S’kitav was exhausted. “This is the colony ship Candid, do you have a reservation, I think it is under “awesome.”

A voice came over the comlink, “Roger, Candid, your table is waiting planet side, land at the following coordinates, then began cryo-reawake.” The Candid slide silently along, reaching the planet is a few hours, entering the atmosphere minutes later and landing the ship was cleanly as possible at the coordinates given.

Moravria had a colony.

As if by some extraordinary streak of luck, or perhaps the responsibility of cruel fate, a small pockmarked grayish probe appeared on fringes of the star system of Moravia's colony. Though once capable of warping space at a whim, vast millennia of wearing down had seen to it that the small pod was no longer capable of such an act, and now quietly drifted through space, unable to steer its own course forward through the vast sea of lonely stars which had surrounded it since its creation. The artificial intelligence in control of the ship was degraded as well, its only companions the vast stars, and its massive compendium of star charts and data, among other resources. Though finally the ship was about to reach the end of its voyage, as the course was aimed directly at the burgeoning colony itself. A somewhat depressing end for the Akasha:029, all of its fellow probes by and large having long ago been destroyed by asteroids, hostile aliens, mechanical failure, or the inevitable crash into a star or black hole.

Created over fifty thousand years ago during a massive civil war in its home Zeres system, the Akasha series of space probes were created by a now nameless scientist, on a planet which was soon after obliterated during the ensuing centuries, then millennia of nonstop wars and conflict. It held as much scientific knowledge and data on the history of the system as he could store on the relatively advanced orbs, though most of it by now was badly damaged, the AI having replaced the mission sections with random musings and the computer's somewhat deranged insight into its vast experiences.

Some expeditions felt longer than others, and a four-year exploratory mission to the back end of space was certainly one of those expeditions. The USS Vincennes, NCC-2320, had been alone in deep space for somewhat longer than four years now, and despite attempting to cover the two thousand lightyear distance to get home, she and her crew kept finding themselves distracted by important events. Most recently, the Vincennes had encountered the Krogan Tuchanka, and after something of an uneasy first contact where the colonising Krogan found another civilisation had already laid claim to their system of choice, the crew of the Vincennes had managed to calm the situation down somewhat. She swiftly departed soon afterwards, leaving the Krogan and the Amazonian Beasts to whatever deal they had brokered between themselves, for the Vincennes was long overdue a refit and her supplies were running low.

Worse still, morale was starting to falter. Despite having had a highly successful exploration mission, four years had taken its toll on the crew. Live communications with friends and loved ones back home in Federation space was not possible due to the eighteen hour lag they endured, and relationships on both ends were beginning to show the strain. Captain Rebecca Hughes was among the unlucky ones who had lost something from this mission. Having finally found the time to open the communiqué from her partner back home on New Eden, she had found herself being delicately dumped in favour of a somewhat closer-to-home relationship. Having her six-year-long engagement to a man she loved dearly broken off over subspace had been more than she could bear, and she had taken a week’s leave on doctor’s orders to try and make sense of it all. Perhaps if they had been together for all this time, and simply found themselves incompatible, it would have been easier – but to get dumped over subspace simply for being too far away? Some things weren’t easy to take.

Commander Jeanette Brady, the Vincennes’ dedicated, but sometimes temperamental, chief engineer had also suffered a loss during the course of their mission. Both her parents had suffered tragic deaths in a freak shuttle accident, and she had to hear the news over subspace too. Rebecca couldn’t help but offer her sympathy, as Brady couldn’t even go to their funeral, which must have been an unfortunate experience at best. Instead of wallowing in self-pity for a week as Rebecca had done, Brady simply engrossed herself in her engineering work. Despite needing a refit, the Vincennes was running almost as smoothly as the day she had shipped out of Novus Romulus Shipyards four and a half years ago, and the crew couldn’t help but admire her resolve. The Captain felt a little ashamed, and so had decided to take heed of her example and kick herself back into duty mode. Rebecca found the engineer bugging her about the need for a refit more than anybody else though; and although she really didn’t want to think about such things at the moment (and there was little she could do about it for the moment anyway), she knew that they had to return to Federation space as soon as possible. And it was her job to ensure they did.

No distractions.

She told herself that very same thing as she stepped onto the bridge for the first time since her holiday began. All eyes focussed on her, making her wonder for a second if she had forgotten to don her tunic or something equally silly, but it didn’t take her long to click onto the fact that they had obviously been concerned by her absence. She had built up good relationships with most crew members over the course of their expedition, as they had with each other, and by now they almost felt like a family. A ridiculous formal, uniformed family perhaps, but a family nonetheless.

“Welcome back, Captain,” Commander John Derek announced in his gruff voice, equipping himself with a welcoming grin and offering her a mock salute.

“We’ve missed you, ma’am,” Lieutenant Phillip Cobbs announced with his typical enthusiasm.

“Thank you,” she nodded with an embarrassed smile. Such displays of affection were hardly fitting for the bridge, after all. “How are we progressing, Commander?”

“We’ve covered a bit of ground over your vacation, Captain,” Derek nodded. He fumbled around and handed her a PADD, filled with lists and lists of maintenance reports, helm feedback and the like. It all needed her signature, and she found herself faced with the unenviable task of reading through a week’s worth of daily starship operations. “As you’ll see there, we did have a bit of a hiccup with the port warp nacelle again, but it’s working fine now.”

“A ‘hiccup’?” she repeated with concern.

“Aye,” Derek nodded. He leaned back casually against an inactive console. “Jeanette wanted to give it a complete overhaul, and I wasn’t about to tell her she couldn’t. You might have noticed us dropping to sublight for a few hours on Thursday.”

“I wasn’t really paying any attention,” Rebecca shook her head.

“Ah, head in the clouds was it, ma’am?” Derek said with a grin. “I understand. Well it’s all sorted now, anyway, and as per usual Jeanette has it purring like a kitten. Until she decides to strip the whole damned warp drive down to its constituent parts, anyway.”

Rebecca couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. She certainly wouldn’t put it past Brady at the best of times, let alone now that she was in her latest ‘hyperwork’ mode. There wasn’t a system on this ship that Brady had left untouched in recent weeks, and she showed no signs of slowing down at all. Certainly her diligence benefited the ship and crew immensely, as any other engineer may have let systems fall into disrepair after spending so much time in space, but Rebecca couldn’t help but wonder if the engineer was bottling up her emotions and using her work to distract her.

“Well, Commander, please make sure that she asks for permission before she dismantles anything essential,” Rebecca said with a weak smile, as she moved around the bridge and slumped into her chair unenthusiastically. She looked down at the helm, about to call out the wrong name when she noticed a young Bajoran ensign sitting there instead of the usual Romulan. “Where’s Su’vak?”

“Ah,” Derek said with realisation. “Last week I shook up the duty rosters a little, to give the crew a bit of variety. If I know him at all, he’s down in the mess hall right about now. Won’t come on duty till the nightshift.”

“Oh,” Rebecca said, pursing her lips as she tried to remember the name of the ensign before her. Derek must have noticed her reluctance, for he stepped in quite quickly to rescue her.

“Ensign Rena Korvak has been keeping us company during the day shifts this week,” Derek announced. The Commander’s sudden explanation couldn’t have been better timed. “We simply can’t shut him up sometimes.”

“I’ll say,” Cobbs chimed in.

“Well, nice to have you with us Ensign Rena,” she said with a sly smile. “Can you pl...”

“Captain,” Derek interrupted. His tone had changed, to his more formal voice which usually signified that something was about to happen. “We’re picking up ships at the edge of sensor range.”

Oh no, not again... Rebecca sighed inwardly. “Report, Commander?”

Derek placed his eyes over the glowing blue sensor hood, tapping his fingers on one of the science consoles without even needing to look. “I’m reading several ships, unknown configurations. Can’t get a clear reading at this range... looks like they’re orbiting an M-class planet. One of them has landed on the surface. Worth a look?”

“Colonists,” Rebecca groaned. “Don’t you remember the last time we investigated some colonists?”

“Aye ma’am,” Derek nodded with a smile. “Fairly interesting, as I recall.”

Rebecca leaned forward and placed her head in her hands for a few seconds. The Vincennes and her crew, and Rebecca for that matter, really needed to make tracks for Federation space. But their primary mission objective was exploration and diplomacy, and she’d be negligent in her duties if they didn’t at least take a look.

“Alright,” she said finally, straightening herself up. “Ensign Rena, set a course to the coordinates Commander Derek will feed you momentarily. Engage at warp six when ready... assuming Jeanette hasn’t dismantled the warp drive yet.”

“Aye ma’am,” the ensign called back. “Course plotted, heading one eight five mark two six, warp six confirmed.”

“Let’s see if this one can be a little more routine, hmm?” Derek remarked, as the viewscreen suddenly came alive with an explosion of streaking stars as the ship rapidly accelerated into warp speeds.

***

It was a couple of days travel time for the Vincennes during which her captain and crew tried to prepare themselves for whatever disaster was likely to take place this time. Rebecca could only hope that she wouldn’t be trying to convince two opposing sides from trying to kill one another this time, but with her luck lately... who could say? As the Vincennes entered the system she streaked into view and dropped from warp speeds, her impulse engines firing up with a fierce red glow to propel them towards the planet at top sublight speeds. It didn’t take her long to clear the distance, and she came to a relativistic halt a few million kilometres away from the crowd of ships gathering around the planet.

Rebecca and the senior bridge officers had already arrived on the bridge, somewhat refreshed and ready to deal with whatever was thrown at them. Perhaps these people didn’t want any manner of contact, and would ask them to leave? Perhaps it went against Starfleet’s mission statement, but Rebecca secretly hoped that would be the case. But still, she had some curiosity left in her, and she did have an interest in who these people were, and what they were doing.

“Phill, see if you can hail them,” Rebecca said at last. She didn’t want to keep the aliens waiting, lest they spook them.

“Aye, Cap’n,” Cobbs announced, and began fiddling with his console as he held up a small receiver to his ear. “This is the Federation Starship USS Vincennes hailing unknown vessels. We mean you no harm, please respond. This is the...”

As Cobbs tried raising them, Rebecca said down in her command chair and buttoned the flap of her tunic up smartly. There was nothing for them to do now but wait.

The days had gone by fast for the colonists as they began to build their city. After coming out of cryo-sleep many felt hibernation sickness, delaying the completion of basic housing for a few days, but the colony ship served as a makeshift home and hospital. Soon the sickness was other, however, and many men and women got to work building the colony. Prefab houses shot up like ant hills, all placed in neat, even rows. Roads were constructed, most of them just dirt, but a few having metal mesh laid on them to create a more stable roadway. A spaceport was built, if one could call it that. It was little more than landing pads for shuttles from the supply ships and flimsy metal hangars for the four Nomions when they were not patrolling space.

The sky above was no less busy. Warships patrolled both orbital space and the entire system. The Nomions were on a constant schedule of patrolling the whole system while the cruisers and larger escorts concentrated more on Lance itself. The Nomion was on one such patrol when it intercepted a transmission from a ship as it approached the planet from a few million kilometers away. Titro listened to the message, then called Admiral Portrikar for guidance.

Portrikar sent a message to this unknown ship, welcoming it to the Lance system. “This is Admiral Jon Portrikar of The Democratic States of Moravria. We welcome an assistant from a friendly nation and look forward to meeting you. If you would be willing, you may send a delegation down to the planet Lance, where we may discuss diplomacy.”

OOC: Sorry for the late reply and the rather dull post. I have been away (visiting colleges) for most of today and didn’t have time to type something more substantial up

Governor Alfret Guynem sat at his desk within the newly built Colonial Palace. The building itself was inconspicuous with corrugated aluminum wall panels and mesh floors. It was a temporary, very temporary, government building, construction workers were already starting the construction of the permanent building using materials taken from the planet. The materials necessary to make concrete and other building mediums were hard to come by on the virgin planet, but despite that small set back the colony had been doing remarkably well.

The scouting parties sent before the colony ship had found the perfect stop for a city, a few miles back from the coast of a major ocean, right on the banks of a large river feeding directly into the body of water. Soon after arriving streets were laid out, prefab houses built, and a community sprung out of nowhere. The houses were much like the Colonial Palace, extremely temporary, and some families had already begun building a permanent home for themselves. A spaceport had been constructed starting out as little more than a few landing pads, it was now a major operation transporting goods and materials from the huge cargo ship in orbit around Lance to the city below. The colony ship was already on its way back to Mora to load more colonists into its womb to take to the new planet under Moravrian control.

In a little more than 10 days an incredible amount of work had been done to the colony, transforming it into something close to an actual city. This could be attributed to the intense bond of friendships Moravrian had for each other. Who families, sometimes dozens of men, women, and children, worked together for a common goal. Sometimes three, four, of five families would come together, accomplishing in a few days what would take weeks to accomplish if they worked alone. This bond even worked its way into governmental jobs, where civilians would help government workers dig a road, or clear a field to create more plots of land for the new colonists.

Guynem thought of all this as he sat at his desk, amazed, and full of pride, at how well Moravrians cooperated together for a common goal. He leaned back in his chair, content with the knowledge that he would go down in history as the first governor of the first Moravrian colony on another world, and he would go down as a successful one too. Suddenly a Moravrian soldier burst into his office without knocking.

“Sir, sorry for interrupting sir, but we have a situation and need your help,” the soldier was part of the S’kritai, an elite force of soldier used for advance scouting and disruption of enemy supply lines. They had been employed in the colony as scouts looking for anything unusual or a threat to the colony.

Guynem looked slightly annoyed, his eyebrows contracting ever so slightly, almost to be unnoticeable, “Is it serious, sergeant, or did you interrupt me just to let me know you found another river south of the city.” Guynem was in no way a pleasant person, and had been pick to be the governor by the senate mostly because of his coolness under pressure and ability to lead.

The solider, in utter disbelief at the rudeness of the governor, almost fell backward, but quickly caught himself, “It is serious sir, the lieutenant told me to come get you.”

Reluctantly Guynem got up out of his chair and followed the sergeant out of his office. He told his secretary he would be back in a little bit. Two bodyguards followed him out of the building, a seemingly unnecessary security measure considering the infancy of the colony. The soldier walked to a military vehicle the S’kritai used for scouting, and Guynem quickly followed, disgusted at the bareness of the frame and uncomfortable seats. They drove for about 15 minutes, going deep into the forest. They stopped in a large clearing, where other S’kritai could be seen creating a perimeter around some crater-like landform.

The both got out of the vehicle and walked over to the crater, where Guynem was met by a lieutenant, “Sir, we found this crater while scouting the area for hostiles. It appears to be some kind of landing pad, the markings indicate it as much at least.”

Guynem looked down, briefly displaying a look of surprise before he suppressed it, “The markings are in Standard Alphabet. It appears like we are not the first ones to ever inhabit this planet.” He turned away and swiped his hand through the air on a dismissive manner, “It does not matter though, that had been out of use for a long time. No one is on this planet besides us. Now if you will excuse me, I must get back to my duties as governor. Sergeant, drive me back now.”

As Guynem was walking away the lieutenant turned to another S’kritai, “Next time Captain Titro is planet-side get him out here. Maybe he will find it more interesting and can petition the admiral to get an investigative team down here.”

Akasha:029

As the space pod, about the size of a modern-day bus that had been crushed into a ball, continued its course through the system, something strange began to happen within the probe's battered, dingy shell. Suddenly, as the planet's star began to reflect off of the decrepit ball, small lights began to flash along its circumference as numerous sensors began the quick process of detecting its current location and mapping the coordinates into the AI's computerized brain within the ship's center. Upon detecting its trajectory with the planet in front of it, and with the navigation equipment having long been destroyed, the AI's brain quietly began to reconstruct itself from a cellular level. The combination of biological and artificial cells had already did the calculations on its own survival upon crashing into the planet's surface at the current speed... Was just under 2%.

However, the probe had also detected other craft floating through space which did not seem to belong to any race or designation that was in its database. Akasha:029 was, however out of options, and quickly began to barrage the various ships with dozens of distress signals in every code and language at its disposal, hoping to arise some sort of response out of them, or perhaps from the planet below. Despite these many variations of languages, almost all of them were ancient and distorted by the already butchered probe. So rather than sending a distress signal, the probe was merely barraging all of the parties involved in bizarre static and noise.

"Captain, they've responded to our hails," Cobbs announced. It had taken a few minutes, but given the fervour with which the colonists seemed to be working down there Rebecca wasn't surprised. Already their scans showed that an impressive city had sprung up below, and although it consisted mostly of makeshift walkways and prefabricated buildings, it would appear that some colonists were already underway building more permanent structures. Quite an impressive amount of development given the recency of their arrival, and Rebecca couldn't think of any Federation colony that had sprung up quite so quickly.

"Put them on screen, Phil," she said, standing up. With a short tug she pulled her burgundy tunic straight and ensured her hair was in place, but it would appear to be unnecessary.

"Not really required sir," Cobbs shrugged. "Simple message - they said they would welcome any assistance, and have invited us to visit them planet-side for diplomatic talks. From an Admiral Jon Portrikar of The Democratic States of Moravria."

"Oh," she said, somewhat relieved. That made life easier. If they were so willing to invite them down to the planet, perhaps they could even negotiate the use of some land for shore leave. It was certainly an even more urgent requirement than the ship's refit, and she herself would welcome the use of a beach or something for a while. "In that case, signal back and tell them we accept, and would be welcome to offer any assistance we could lend."

"At least it's not another clichéd evil empire of doom and destruction, eh sir?" Cobbs muttered as he held the communications device back up to his ear and went about sending a response.

"We're not in any fit state to build a colony, sir," Derek said to her quietly. "We're probably in more need of assistance than they are."

"We've still got an industrial replicator left over in cargo bay two," Rebecca said thoughtfully. "And you recorded their ships as having no energy weapons, so perhaps they might find use for our phasers if they need to drill holes or clear land? Every little helps when you're a colonist, Commander. And so far, no Dominion has claimed dominion over this system, so I don't see any cause for alarm."

"Perhaps so Captain," Derek nodded. "We might even be able to negotiate some shore leave."

"My thoughts exactly," Rebecca smiled.

"Message away!" Cobbs announced, somewhat over-excitedly.

"Great, Lieutenant," Rebecca said. "Alright. John, Su'vak, Jeanette and myself shall be beaming down. Ensign Rena - take us into standard orbit please."

"No security officers?" Derek enquired, as they both rounded the bridge towards the turbolift.

"We'll take sidearms, but I don't see that they are necessary," Rebecca said. "Deck three please. We'll have a transporter lock kept on us, and some security officers ready to beam down to assist if necessary. There's no need for overkill."

***

The two senior officers met with Brady and Su'vak in the humming transporter room. Two Petty Officers stood in the control booth, which was encased in a protective sheet of transparent aluminium, ready and awaiting orders. All four of the officers had sleek black phaser pistols slipped into holsters on one side, communicators slipped into pouches on the other side, while Derek carried a similarly sleek black tricorder which was hung around his chest with a black strap.

Brady seemed somewhat agitated by the prospect of leaving the ship, which had become her personal project of late, but Rebecca felt that she might be needed to assess certain engineering problems if the colonists did request their assistance. Su'vak, meanwhile, seemed somewhat pleased at the opportunity to get off the ship after having been stuck with the nightshift for the last week or so. Certainly, piloting the ship in a straight line for weeks on end must get somewhat tedious after a while.

They stepped onto the gleaming transporter pad, surrounded by its matte black walls which absorbed the minor amounts of radiation the system put out, and turned to face the transporter booth.

"Crewman," Rebecca called out. "Put us down at the coordinates highlighted by Commander Derek. It looks like a government building of some sort. Keep a constant transporter lock on us, and be ready to send help if necessary. Understood?"

"Aye sir," one of the transporter operators replied through a speaker.

"Energise."

Bright blue-white columns of light engulfed the four officers, bathing the entire room with soft white illumination and something of a high-pitched whining noise. After a few moments they were disassembled in a pretty hue of sparkling blue light and disappeared from the pad. As their matter stream was transmitted to the planet below and reassembled, they wondered what sort of greeting they would receive...

A small rust colour vessel appear out of hyperspace, unlike most Phenixican vessels it was somewhat rusted and banged up. this was a operation of the Phenixican Exploration of Alien Cultures Society (PEACS).

Inside 3 people were sleeping with a women at the helm, The vessel was just as beautiful on the inside as it was out. One of the men awake and walk into the cockpit with Coffee in hand.

"I swear they gave us this ship out of hatred" He said in a whiney tone.

"Well Captain, they did tell us there was a 7 month wait for a new vessel for us. But you insisted any ship would do" She said, half mocking at him and half making fun.

"Whats on the sensors?"

"Well funny you should ask, there is a signal coming threw but it is very very faint. I just cant find the Frenquency to tune on" She said tapping a small screen.

"Well best we can do is head towards the area and be careful, last thing we need is to be fired out of the system again. Seems like the more we travel we also come across more and more aggressive nations"

A heavily built man enters and takes a seat at the back, He had toast on a plate. He fiddles with the buttons until a target screen appears.

"G' morning John, Mornin Jessica" said the man, eyes still keen on the target.

"Alex since you have some knowleage of communications come over here and try and make this out"

The man walks over to the front where the communcational screen was and puts his ear againts the speaker.

"Sounds like words to me Cap'in, This system is inhabited. think it is human, but hard to tell with all the static"

John sits at his chair to the back right of the cockpit, Only one chair was empty now and that was the Medical Officers, he always slept in.

"Jessica move us a little closer, so we can assess the situation and then discide if we should or should not continue"

Jessica simply nods and with a few buttons the ship moves in for a closer look.

((Not very exciting, but Phenixica does not really have a military presence outside the home galaxy. So all you get is a bunch of ragtag Explorers far from home :P))

When Captain Titro arrived on the planet, after a week-long patrol mapping the system, designating other planets, mapping out the asteroid fields, and taking other measurements for future trade lanes and space ports, he did exactly what the S’kritai lieutenant said he would. He went above Guynems head, directly to Admiral Portrikar, and requested a team of archeologists to investigate the mysterious landing pad. Guynrm knew nothing of this, as he was too wrapped up in himself and his own political advancement to care about something so trivial.

“Don’t tell the governor, will you lieutenant?” Titro asked after he had spoke with the admiral. “I don’t think he would like it very much if he knew I shut right over his head, technically he is my superior while I am on the planet.” Just then Titro head a few words being spoken around the fledgling spaceport. The voice was unequivocally Guynem’s, and by the intonation Titro knew that it was not a pleasant conversation. Not that Guynem ever had a pleasant conversation. “I better go check that out, as you were lieutenant.”

--

Governor Guynem waited at the space port for the diplomats from the USS Vincennes, fully expecting them to arrive by a shuttle of some sort. He waited impatiently, shifting his weight constantly, as if to say, They had better hurry up. I have more important things to do than play diplomat with some random exploration vessel. He turned to one of his aids, to yell at him about the dust on the governors shoes, only to turn back and see four people standing in front on him.

His insides jumped with surprise, but he held off his shock and kept his signature bored face, “Oh, you must be the diplomats from that other nation. I am Governor Alfret Guynem, and I would appreciate you names.” He stressed his title, as if to say Look at me, I am better than you.

--

Elsewhere, in Space, Admiral Portrikar intercepted the inane rambling of the space pod, and his bridge immediately began to decode it, although that made almost no progress. “It’s useless sir, the static means nothing, at least not anything we have ever seen before.”

The admiral sighed, hoping and praying that they were not encountering a hostole race, “Bring in the Aggressor and two Spirits as close to that probe thing as you can. We are going to try to bring it onboard for further study.”

OOC: Again, sorry with the rather dull post. Time is not something I have in excess right now. I promise I am a much better writer than this.

As the ship moves closer they assess the situation.

"The world is lightly protected, Population is low by what we can sense in the atmosphere. Do you wish to hail captain?" Jessica said in a sarcastic professional way.

"Might aswell, we could do with something to eat and a proper shower. Recycled water just does not clean after 345 rotations"

Communication was sent out, since the ship was old they could not focus is towards the planet so it went all across the Star System.

"This is Captain John of the Phenixican Exploration of Alien Cultures Society, We request permission to land to re-fuel and in return we can offer information and exotic goods"

John presses the button and it stops sending

"Exotic Goods...like what?" Alex said laughing

"Well, we do have those useless pots from that planet with the bird people"

"The things that break easily? infact the one where almost every single one but 5 have broken out of 30?" Jessica snaped

"shutup, like they know that"

Governor Guynem waited at the space port for the diplomats from the USS Vincennes, fully expecting them to arrive by a shuttle of some sort. He waited impatiently, shifting his weight constantly, as if to say, They had better hurry up. I have more important things to do than play diplomat with some random exploration vessel. He turned to one of his aids, to yell at him about the dust on the governors shoes, only to turn back and see four people standing in front on him.

His insides jumped with surprise, but he held off his shock and kept his signature bored face, “Oh, you must be the diplomats from that other nation. I am Governor Alfret Guynem, and I would appreciate you names.” He stressed his title, as if to say Look at me, I am better than you.

As the senior officers of the Vincennes materialised on the surface, the colony was even more impressive to see with their own eyes than it was to see on sensors and orbital snapshots. Considering the short time that these colonists had been on the planet they had already achieved a great deal, and although Rebecca personally had only witnessed the actual construction of a colony once before with her own eyes, this one seemed to be prospering quite quickly in comparison. The idea had always intrigued her though; the prospect of taking an empty, uncivilised world and taming it to suit your interests, all the while trying to survive, certainly screamed out bravery and resourcefulness. She imagined that it took a particular kind of person to accept such an undertaking, and she certainly wasn't one of them. Her skills were certainly much more suited to her present career.

Once the brief disorientation of disappearing from one place and appearing in another seemingly instantaneously had been shaken off, the four officers began to look around their immediate surroundings and walk around in search of a welcoming party. As they had seen from above, many of the buildings around them were prefabricated, obviously meant to be temporary, though several more permanent structures were rising up quite quickly. They appeared to be standing near a makeshift space-port, which was presumably where these Moravrians were expecting to greet them, so they promptly began walking towards it.

It wasn't long before a somewhat surly gentleman accosted them with a brash introduction. Rebecca groaned inwardly, though maintained a professional stance, as the gentleman introduced himself pridefully as 'Governor' Guynem. As he more-or-less demanded their names, Rebecca half-expected him to start thumping his chest and asking them to drop to their knees in reverence, his head inflating with ego all the while. Starfleet taught many diplomatic skills to senior officers, but bowing to self-important foreigners certainly wasn't amongst them, so she hoped he wouldn't ask. After studying his rather stern expression for a moment she decided that he wasn't likely to get any more amicable than this.

Nevertheless, whether she liked the fellow or not was unimportant: they were interested in the nation and this colony, not necessarily the Governor himself, even though he was obviously the gentleman they would have go go through for the moment. She cleared her throat and mustered as much politeness and dignity as she could manage in the face of such an introduction.

"Greetings, Governor Guynem," she said with a forced smile. "I am Captain Rebecca Hughes of the starship Vincennes, representing the United Federation of Interstellar Planets. It is a pleasure to meet you."

At that she turned slightly and gestured towards each of her accompanying officers in turn.

"These are my senior staff," she explained. "This is Commander John Derek, executive officer. Commander Jeanette Brady, our chief engineering officer. And Lieutenant Su'vak, our helmsman and head of astrometric sciences."

As each of the officers briefly nodded to the Governor in respect, albeit a little reluctantly in the case of Brady, Rebecca took the brief moment to flip open her communicator and tap a single button, signalling the Vincennes above that they hadn't met an unpleasant demise yet. Well, there was some unpleasantness, but it wouldn't require their being rescued - not yet, anyway.

"I have to say, Governor," Rebecca spoke up again as she slipped the communicator back into its pouch on her belt. She performed an open-armed gesture as she admired their colony, perhaps something that might appeal to the Governor's ego and get her on his better side - if he had such a thing. "I find your colony to be extremely impressive, especially considering the short time you have been here. I'm sure that you and your people are very proud of your accomplishments here so far. Have you had a lot of experience in building other colonies, by any chance?"

Admiral Portirkar was sleeping when his aid entered his quarters with a message. A ship had been spotted, and soon after it had hailed the Moravrian fleet, requesting refuel and supplies. “Do they seem peaceful enough?” Portrikar asked, still groggy from his deep, relaxing sleep.

His aid answered, “Yes sir, they give no indication of malcontent, and claim to be explorers of some kind.”

“Allow them to land and give them any supplies requested, but keep security tight. Send another platoon of S’kritai planetside to keep an eye on the ship. Inform the governor of their arrival, Spirit knows he would be upset if no one warned him.”

“Yes sir, I will send the message personally as soon as I get to the bridge.”

--

The MSS Loyalty and two point defense frigates approached the strange space probe with caution. It was still emitting the strange static babble it had started hours ago. A shuttle was launched from the Loyalty, and came up to the probe, attempting to bring it on board for study.

--

Guynem began to say something, no doubt with the same demeaning, sarcastic tone he always spoke with when dealing with others, but was interrupted by a voice from behind him. “Governor Guynem,” Titro called out from some distance away. He jogged up to the governor and landing party, positioning himself between the two parties, in an attempt to shield the foreigners from Guynem. “Governor, you presence is wanted at the Palace. Something about another group of people landing, or something. You better get over there right away. I’ll handle this diplomacy.”

Guynem muttered something about ‘fraking amateurs’ as he quickly strode toward the Governors Palace, his security detail following a safe distance away, not wanting to become the focus of his anger. Titro watched him walk away for a second, making sure that he would continue to head toward the Palace and not turn around to give Titro a chewing out. He then turned toward the guests, gesturing with a slight bow and then extending his hand in friendship, hoping that this civilization shook hands like Moravrians did.

“Greetings, I am Captain George Titro, on the MSS Nomion, I welcome you to Lance and to official space of The Democratic States of Moravria. I apologize for Governor Guynem, he is a bit harsh and knows nothing of diplomacy or general good manners. He is a fabulous administrator and the perfect person to be governor of this colony, but he is not a diplomat. I assure you though, his is a rare temperament in Moravria, most Moravrians embrace friendship and relationships and seek to create them wherever possible.

“If you would like, we can head to the small bar that has been set up. It’s not much, but it is the best we can offer at this time for diplomatic relations, besides the personal office of the governor, but I doubt you would like to go there after meeting Guynem. There we can exchange more information, and I would be more than happy to answer any questions you have about Moravria.”

The last man entered the cockpit and looked over the others and started to flick around with the buttons, checking the structure of the ship.

"Good Morning Adam" John said in a way more sounding like 'Screw you too adam'

"Morning everyone" he said lazily, John knew his type they wanted the grand adventure and a nice little bit of space experiance to put on there applications to become a Imperial Officer. PEACS got allot of them, bunch of spoiled rich kids who cant do what 99% of other Phenixican Officers did and just work your way up to the rank. Which in turn demands a heck of allot more respect anyway.

"Ship is still holding together...barely" He said and then walked out, this annoyed most of the crew. Thats all Adam did, he did his job of checking on the ship systems and went and did nothing for the next 6 hours. He was a skinny well trimmed man, only 19 years old, He resembled a rat in some ways.

We are a serious organization, we were founded by Emperor Belcameron 1st and even the 2nd gives allot of money to funding the project.

"Lazy prick" Alex said, Alex was a Grun and likewise hated all things lazy. He joined because of the adventure, you could not find a more honest and down to earth guy and a more brilliant weapons systems expert that was not currently in the navy; He was a heavily built man but with the most calming face, He was a man you knew you could trust with your life.

"Well atleast he getsup in the morning" said the ever indifferent Jessica, she was a ex-fighter pilot in the Phenixican navy. She loved her job until she met Princess Nadine and was somewhat disturbed about her frame of mind, She lost confidence in the navy and left. Allot of people are like that at the moment, The Emperor has been the greatest ruler the empire ever had....a future Empress has allot to live up too. Jessica was as John usually thought
'A Colonial beauty' her personality was rough around the edges and her body was in great physical condition due to her training regime, But in the end she was friendly and willing to help anybody in need.

"Well, lets just keep him where he is at. We can run this ship without him" John was born on the Science Outpost in the Rend system, He grew up around the buzz of warpgates and how they would allow fast travel to another galaxy. His dream was to explore what was on the other side and to him he was now living that dream, He had no interest in the military since he also remembers the hard-ship the rule of the Imperial Court gave the scientists to complete the project. So infact he hated the military. His cloths were black pants, blue shirt with a brown coat over the top with a patch with 'PEACS' written on it, He had a honest face and was average in build with Brown hair.

The Governor was about to respond to her, and she could tell from the look on his face and the way his lips were pursed that she had obviously failed to discover his ‘good side’. Presumably she was about to get another dose of impatient sarcasm or another egotistical snap, but she was saved from the trouble when another Moravian appeared and called out to the Governor. Rebecca watched the scene unfold as the Governor was informed of a situation which required his attention by the gentleman, whose dress and mannerisms suggested a military rank or similar. While displeased, the impolite Governor left without saying a word, merely muttering something beneath his breath that Rebecca was probably glad to have missed. She noted with some amusement when the Governor’s guards kept a distinct distance as they followed him, wondering if his unpleasant manner extended towards a temper, or perhaps even violence.

Finally free of the fellow, the officer whom had saved them from his wrath introduced himself, and reassured them that such mannerisms weren’t common amongst their entire people – which relieved Rebecca greatly. She was beginning to wonder if perhaps it was a racial or cultural trait of some kind or another, and was pleasantly surprised to learn that it wasn’t.

“Captain, you deserve to have the highest honour of your nation bestowed upon you for your quick rescue,” she said with a smile. “But in all seriousness, please don’t concern yourself with it at all. He was... tolerable. I’m Captain Hughes, of the Vincennes, and it is a pleasure – and a relief- to make your acquaintance. I am certain of his competence; as I was just saying to Mr. Guynem there, you folks have done a wonderful job here in a short space of time.” She took mildly sadistic delight in referring to the Governor as a ‘mister’, though didn’t let it slip onto her expression.

As the Moravian Captain invited the Starfleet officers to a bar, Su’vak seemed to perk up a bit. He had been silent until now, quietly content to leave all of the talking to the Captain provided she could secure them all some shore leave. But it would seem that the prospect of a fresh drink, or at least something that hadn’t come out of a replicator, was about all he could stand.

“I can live with that,” he blurted out informally, receiving a quick, sharp glance from Rebecca for his trouble.

“Absolutely, yes,” she nodded with another smile after a pause. “That’ll do fine. I’m certain that we could all use a drink, and I’m sure we have plenty to discuss.”

"We've been hit again!" came a distressed cry as the ship shook violently.

"Damage report?" was the calm reply from the ship's captain.

"Engine two is down and we've got a hull breech running through decks two through five in engineering. We can't take many more hits like that and keep fighting."

"Is the hyperdrive back up yet?"

"It just came up. We'll be ready to leave in two minutes."

"Set a course for the nearest inhabited star system. We need a place to hide."

The ship took another hit as the helmsman entered the course change and prepared systems for the jump into FTL. Several thousand kilometers behind them, the frigate Ezrylon fired again at the ship's engines. Another hit was scored, and the ship began to lose acceleration. The Ezrylon, who's engines were still in perfect working order, was now accelerating at a much higher rate than the ship and was beginning to overtake her. On the bridge of the Ezrylon, the comms officer typed up a short message to be sent to the ship via the frigate's signal lamps.

In the names of the King, the Triad, and Amaunator, you are ordered to stop and face justice. You are being charged with piracy, grand theft starship, smuggling, murder, and evading arrest. If you do not respond by stopping and accepting a boarding party, you will be seen as admitting your guilt and your ship will be destroyed.

On the ship's bridge, the crew was clearly not enjoying the chase. The engines were failing and the hull integrity was shot. If they surrendered, they would all find nooses. If they fought, they would find a world of fire and the empty void of space. The only hope was to get the hyperdrive set and try to escape.

Ezrylon's ultimatum had been ignored, and another shot was fired. This time, however, the shots were too late. The ship had managed to jump into FTL just before she would have become a salvager's prize. Unfortunately, the frigate was FTL capable too. She too entered hyperspace and resumed the chase once more.



In a flash, the ship re-entered real space. She was in the Lance system now, and perhaps free of her persuers. The engines were in poor shape and so was the hull, however, so they would need to find a place to stop for repairs. The nearby planet with all the traffic would have to do, since the hyperdrive was down again. The ship started to accelerate towards the planet, seeking refuge and freedom. Only a few hundred thousand kilometers and they'd be safe once more.


Tymora was not on the ship's side though. As the ship began to near the planet, the Ezrylon dropped out of FTL behind her. By running, the crew of the ship had confessed in the eyes of the law, and there was only one possible penalty under these circumstances. The ship would have to be destroyed, and Ezrylon's captain was no longer in the mood to play games with the main guns. Instead, he ordered a shot from the frigate's spinal gun.

A massive golden beam shot from the bow of the Shanderan frigate, lancing the length of the ship effortlessly. Within seconds, the ship became a bouquet of flames. Debris flew off in every direction as the ship was obliterated. The ship's entire crew had perished, and their prize was destroyed. Justice had been administered. Tyr would be pleased.