PROLOGUE 2400 Fifteen years of war had decimated Starfleet. The Dominion and the Borg had seemingly taken turns at challenging the Federation, and the Delta technology, brought back by Voyager in 2378, had not been deployed quickly enough to give Starfleet a definite advantage. They were all dead: Picard and the crew of the Enterprise-E at Karemma III, Riker and the crew of the Titan at Veridian II, Janeway and the crew of Voyager around Romulus. The Federation, the Klingons and, during the first three years, the Romulans had been united in the battle against the invaders. But in 2388, a huge Dominion Task Force had taken advantage of the relative weakness of the Empire still in turmoil after the Shinzon affair to almost completely destroy the Romulan fleet and homeworld. The exile had brought about three million survivors to Vulcan, in an ironic voyage home. The fall of Romulus had been a disaster for the Federation, as the Dominion now had a huge foothold in the Beta Quadrant, and a new ally, as the Remans had decided that the time had come to unite with a power big enough to help them reach new heights of domination. Obviously they had chosen not to believe the stories about what had happened on Cardassia Prime around the end of the First Dominion War. The new Dominion-Remus Alliance had a new To Do on its agenda: Qo'noS. The time had come to once and for all end "the galactic pollution" that was the Klingon Empire. But the Klingons disagreed, and they were very thorough in blasting to bits every Dominion or Reman battleship crossing the border of their space. So the Allies chose to blockade them, and by assigning tens of thousands of ships to that task, they were successful for the few following years. But even so, the Klingons were the proverbial thorn in the Dominion foot, and they decided to hold the Beta Quadrant and delay the conquest of the Federation. That was December 8, 2390. As if they had only waited for their turn, on December 22, 2390, the Borg came back with a vengeance. *** The assault began in the Palomar Sector, as a fleet of 150 Cubes started attacking every planet, every starbase, every starship in that sector. Of course, those ships were mostly there for scientific research on the Expanse and were quite unable to defend themselves against such an invader. Still, the Borg now held a position strategically comparable to the one the Dominion held in Romulan space. It seemed the Borg were there for the long run this time. They wouldn't be happy just assimilating people and technologies and destroying everything else. No, they were settling on those planets they had conquered, ready to start anytime crushing the rest of the huge, mostly unexplored sector, before swarming on the undefended Federation. At least, that's what they thought. But that was without accounting for Admiral Robert Dalton. Dalton was a human in his genes, but a Klingon at heart, just like Admiral Lionel Wilkins, who had spearheaded the defense of Federation space in the Beta Quadrant. He knew that the Delta technology had been specifically designed to fight the Borg. So he started trading ships with every other fleet in the Federation, offering three for one, ten for one, anything for one Delta-enhanced ship. Everyone was so scared of the Borg that they agreed. In the meantime, Dalton had hired the most heteroclite set of engineers to find new enhancements for his own ship, the USS Masada. On October 17, 2392, the Borg started new incursions in Federation space — they had done so on a regular basis, one Cube at a time, conquering a system or two before stopping to settle, but this one seemed to be the real deal. It was a full-fledged attack through the tens of thousands of light years of mostly uncharted space between the Palomar sector and the Ferengi Alliance and the Cardassian Union, a prelude to the invasion of the main Federation space. Robert Dalton met the 150 Cubes with his fleet of 39 Delta-enhanced ships, and he beat the crap out of all of them at Vega 656. Unfortunately, it was only a half-victory, as Dalton was left with four heavily damaged ships and he was unable to take back a single planet, defended as they were by a weapon network which made even the Cardassian orbital weapon platforms look like water guns. The Borg thus held the worlds they had conquered and promptly brought 600 Cubes to reinforce their position. But they didn't launch any other attack at that time. *** The following two years finally gave a devastated Starfleet a chance to regroup. Except for a few skirmishes on the Dominion-Reman front, the next big battle occurred on September 6, 2394, with the second Defeat at Wolf 359 — where the 155 ships assembled in the Tenth Fleet were destroyed alongside the Imperial Klingon Fleet by an unexpectedly strong Reman fleet of more than one thousand ships. Now the morale in the Federation was at its lowest. The Dominion Alliance on one side, the Borg on the other: no one had ever considered such a doomsday scenario would ever become possible. But it plummeted once again after the surprise discovery following the battle of Cestus IV, on January 6, 2395. Starfleet had won the day. Admiral Wilkins, who had spoken loudly against the Wolf 359 expedition, because he knew, but could not prove, that it was all a Reman trap, had just been promoted Fleet Admiral and officially put in charge of ALL operations in the Beta Quadrant. Wilkins was determined to find how the Remans had been able to set that trap. One of the prisoners made at Cestus IV gave him the answer. "What's your name?" the Starfleet interrogator had sternly asked. "Subcommander Mandak, of the Third Legion." "What's a Romulan Subcommander doing with the Remans?" "I am a Reman." "No. Remans look like Turok-Hans. You look like a Romulan." "And you look like a human, yet you are a Klingon p'tahk. It's not a matter of genes, but of allegiance." Commander Stone felt his spine turn to ice. "There are other renegades like you?" "What do you think?" *** From that moment on, doubt was installed in all minds. Three million Romulans were on Vulcan, of which fourteen thousands had been integrated in Starfleet, at every level from simple crewman to Lieutenant-Commander. There were Command Officers, there were Science Officers, there were Tactical Officers, and there were Engineers. Like Yirina Sorel. Born in 2368, Yirina was clearly an engineering genius. An incredibly small woman (1.40 meters high, maybe 35 kg), cute as a button and looking about half her age, she had emerged from the Phi'lasasam, the Romulan Military Academy, at eighteen, the age when the brightest and most recommended were admitted, and she had become Chief Engineer of the Deletham, an experimental smaller warship which was supposed to become the new Romulan warhorse, as hundreds could be built instead of a Warbird, each one having about the same firepower — Wilkins had nicknamed it the "Romulan Defiant" when he had been invited to its shakedown cruise. Unfortunately, two years later, as the Deletham was now ready for mass production, the Dominion had launched its deadly attack. It was now orbiting around Vulcan, mighty orphan of an aborted class, as the head designers had all been killed during the assault. Yirina had volunteered to serve in Starfleet, where she had been affected to the USS Venture, a Sovereign-Class starship assigned to the Bajoran Sector, with the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade and as a propulsion specialist. There she had learned in a record time the workings of the Federation Warp Drive Mark XXI, the most advanced in the quadrant, a beast capable of Warp 9.99985 for days at a time. On November 12, 2394, she had been promoted to Full Lieutenant and transferred to the USS Masada, where propulsion seemed to cause a lot of problems, and Starfleet Command felt that her genius would be more challenged. Her mission: find out why the Mark XXI couldn't exceed Warp 7.3. The challenge was worthy of her. She was worthy of the challenge. For weeks, she spent every minute off duty studying, not only the official specifications of the Luna-Class vessel, but also all the new devices and technologies integrated on Robert Dalton's orders. That of course was quite aggravating for her colleagues. They would have liked to get acquainted with her, at least a little bit. Lieutenant-Commander Maddox, the ship's Chief Engineer, would have liked for her to stop and report to him once in a while. "Lieutenant, don't forget that I'm in charge here. You may have a special assignment, but that does not mean that you don't report to me!" Yirina was particularly tired that day. "Don't you trust me?" "That's not the point, Lieutenant. Starfleet regulations …" "With all due respect, I have spent two years serving as Chief Engineer on a ship infinitely more advanced than this one. I know what I'm doing. I'm on the verge of a breakthrough, and I promise you that as soon as I have something worthy of a report, I will personally bring it to you!" Maddox had tried to reason with her, but she was young and brash. He finally decided to let her go and check on her from time to time. And then, on January 6, 2395, the Battle of Cestus changed everything … *** "Hey, you!" "Yes, Sir?" "Are you through cleaning Deck Eight plasma conduits?" "Yes, Sir." "So what are you doing here?" "Waiting for orders, Sir." "We have a Deck Nine, don't we? We have plasma conduits there, don't we? Unless I am misinformed about the technical specifications of this ship. Tell me, Chief Engineer, is that the case?" "No, Sir." "I DON'T HEAR YOU!" "NO, SIR!" "Very well. You know what you have to do then. Do it!" "Yes, Sir." For five years, that had been the new routine Yirina had followed on the Masada. The day after the revelation that some Romulans might in fact be Reman spies, she had been retrograded to simple crewman and affected to the dirtiest tasks, the jobs they wouldn't even ask prisoners to do, had they had any on board. Maddox had been called to Starfleet Command that day and had never returned. The rumor was that he had taken Yirina's defense a little too far, and he was now on some sub-warp carrier in the Sol system. Lieutenant Jethro Watson, a 2.10-meter high colossus, had replaced him as the new Chief Engineer. He was a competent engineer, but clearly not ready to assume that important role, especially on a ship as the Masada. But since he had a deep commitment to the Federation, amply proven by twenty-five years of service, it was felt that there was no better man available for now. Watson hated the Romulans. To be fair, he was a strong protagonist of the divine origin of the human race and its right to dominate the universe, but some races he almost tolerated in his godly magnanimity. Particularly the Andorian little blue kissy face he regularly humped when he felt like having fun. But Watson hated the Romulans. That had been exacerbated by the Cestus IV revelation. And Yirina was the only Romulan on the Masada. To make things worse, she was so much smarter than him that ideas actually seemed to ooze from her ears. Watson had noticed it, and he hated her even more for that. His was really not the brightest bulb on the ship. As soon as Yirina, along with all Romulans serving in Starfleet, had been retrograded to crewman — a situation which had led most of them to leave in outrage —, it had started. Two days later, the Science Officer, visiting Engineering, had noticed her and asked her why her face was black and blue. "I tripped and fell on a battery pack, Sir", she had answered in a muted voice. *** The five years following the victory of Cestus IV were a new kind of war. No more big battles, no more skirmishes, just a huge game of chess, as senior strategists on both sides were trying to outguess their opponents, and counter their most probable moves. As a result, there were very few real fights, as a game of chess with only a few pieces left on the board. Both sides however were busy preparing the next duel, building battle ships, consolidating their positions, and trying to make sure that the enemy was not listening. On the Federation side, it meant a constant increase in the Romulan paranoia which was now rampant, and sometimes much more than that, on every ship, every outpost. The easy answer would have been to simply throw them out, but they were experienced people, and Starfleet had lost too many lives, so many that Starfleet Academy couldn't supply replacements quickly enough. On October 11, 2399, the sky fell. That day, the Palomar Expanse exhaled thousands of Borg Cubes, which promptly defeated Dalton's fleet and stormed the space between it and the Federation in an irresistible stampede. So deliberate were they in their rush that they didn't even stop to finish the Federation fleet, sixteen ships in various state of destruction out of the 265 originally assembled there. The Borg literally rammed the Cardassians and the Ferengis and punched right through the Federation last big defense, Admiral Warner's sixth fleet, like a hot knife into butter. Tens of thousands of carriers started evacuating the civilian population as quickly as possible, while the military tried to cover their backs for as long as they could. It took the Borg three weeks to occupy the most important, strategically best located worlds, including Earth. There was only one possible destination: the Klingon Empire. Wilkins' fleet and the Klingons did everything they could to help the refugees. But less than ten percent of the ships finally arrived safely. The rest was simply destroyed by the pursuing, relentless enemy. The survivors were directed to the Khitomer Star System, which had been promptly evacuated by most of its population to welcome them. There they would regroup. There they would establish a new liaison with the Klingon government and try to organize some kind of society. *** The survivors of Dalton's fleet had left in shuttles and escape pods. Their destination: Cardassia, the first world on their way in. They didn't know yet that Cardassia was now a Borg world …
Incredible detail, and very well thought out. However, my quibble is that you are telling the story more than showing it. Perhaps amend the info dumps, or find a way to weave them into the character's actions as a way of revealing who they are rather than a lot of exposition. But overall, it seems very promising. Khitomer has an epic scope to it.
Well, I was just setting up the background. The story will begin with Chapter 1. I want to make it different from any other story I ever wrote. I already have a few ideas about that ...
Something like..... =^=Star Trek: Khitomer=^= =^=Promised Land=^= Brought to the brink of extinction.... Bloodied, beaten, broken... The Borg...The Dominion...The Federation, Qo'nos, & Alpha Quadrant Alliance - GONE. & Seeking Valhalla, They're Unknowingly Walking Right Into The Lions' Den....
U.S.S. Khitomer NX 73849 A Valiant-Class gunship held together by luck, spit, twine, bubblegum & the grace of whatever idols its' crew still insisted on turning to for comfort. Badly pockmarked & patched, the Khitomer spent most of its active duty hours scanning surrounding boneyards for now-threadbare components. Otherwise, it was assigned to guarding the singular cardassian orbital facility still in working order that served as a dilapidated Starfleet Command. Every now & then, the remainder of society had to quickly suppress would-be sieges by megalomaniacs with a martyr complex.
You know, you really have talent for teasers! The USS Khitomer is a good idea. Although the title refers more to the vast planetary system given to the Federation by the Klingon Empire to centralize their business, a USS Khitomer somewhere along the line may very well see the light of day. And it would indeed be a NX. But maybe I'll get to a new Enterprise first -- although it might be a good idea to wait. Obviously the Federation is going to try to develop its defenses rather than its R&E forces. Hmmm ... We need a :lightbulb: smiley.
I was thinking that the Klingons would be willing to look into Starfleet's past R & D of the Defiant-Class considering the choices. * Adapt Quickly, Damn The "Rules", & Possibly Survive. * Spend Too Long Thinking About It, In The Meantime - Do Nothing & Likely Wind Up Dead By An Enemy Altogether Unconcerned About Small Talk & Other Social Skills. In the process of stripping & kitbashing vessels whom could be plausibly compatible with the U.S.S. Voyager's alt-universe "Delta" technology (Voodieh-Class & Negh'Var-Class, etc.) , realized early-on that their aged K'tinga/B'rel-Class B.O.P. stock was inevitably going to become far too ineffective & altogether collapse before they could get anywhere close to rotating new tactics & personnel onto The Line. The Federation had already stepped-up to fill the gap left between the BOP designs & the larger tactical cruisers. In the process of developing a feasible next generation of escorts/warships such as the Klalath-Class, the engineers of the day brought a few of the Valiant-Class ships online. Ships built {but never dispatched on shakedown cruises,} due to certain stipulations made in the Treaty Of Algeron. Outpost Khitomer: A Cardassian "Parking Station" not-so-discreetly towed out of [Dominion/Breen/Reman] "Triad"-held territory, located near a partially-completed "Triad" shipyard, while the shipyard itself was under heavy assault by a set of nine Borg Tactical Cubes.
Algeron ... I don't think the Romulans would object to the Federation using a cloaking device now, do you? I like this ship. I have a slightly different idea which I won't expose yet. But obviously, Federation and Klingons will try to unite their efforts. I LOVE the drawings. I'm going to save them in the Khitomer folder. As for the station, DS9 is still there and will NOT be taken by the Dominion. In fact ... but I'm going a little too quickly here. Still, some eyes are going to open bigger than the Wormhole itself ... I would think that Starfleet would be more interested in mobile weapons based on starships than fixed ones on orbital stations. Still, I'm not rejecting any idea. Keep them coming! I'm in the process of fleshing up Yirina's story, then I'll start writing Chapter 1.
done (+img+http://www.trekbbs.com/threads/images/icons/lightbulb.gif+/img+ only trade the +'s for brackets) i like the consept and with the romulans and the federation gone the treaty of algeron has no meaning because the governments that made that treaty arent around to enforce it anymore than roman treatys bind us today also sounds like they could use the dauntless that other universe thinks its gone so finders keepers? sounds just up Q's alley
This series sounds like great fun, and I've been hoping to get onboard from the beginning of one of yours, 47, so you can definitely count me among what I'm sure will be a pack of readers.
Thanks for the lightbulb! The Dauntless? I'm quite certain the Dauntless (at least not the one we knew and loved) will never come back. However, I may "transplant" a ton of characters from past stories. Already Wilkins and Dalton have been beamed from past, pre-Dauntless stories. So is Yirina Sorel, although with a slightly modified name. You'll see.
Thank you! This one should be more accessible, as chapters will be definitely MUCH shorter, probably about the length of the prologue or even less (at a time, I produced chapters six times as long, and in Starfleet One, they are still three times as long) in order to not discourage my readers. No promise on the schedule, but I'll try to feed you regularly.
CHAPTER ONE — SALVAGE OPERATIONS January 6, 2400 Assembled in the USS Samurai's Conference Room, Beta Command was in ebullition. There they were, all ready to discuss the new disaster brought by this new day. Admiral Karov was the Number One in all Klingon military affairs, the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Fleet, and the Senior Advisor of the new Chancellor of the High Council. With him was the former Federation Ambassador to the Klingon Empire, who long ago had been an acting member of Starfleet and was considered as the perfect liaison between the two big powers, now that the Federation was essentially no more: B'Elanna Torres. Another well-known legend of the past represented the Romulan Government. Although he was considered part of Beta Command, everyone knew that he really had no power at all. But he was a shrewd analyst and tactician, and his experience was precious to all of them: Proconsul Mandukar Tomalak. Commander Samantha Dvorak was Wilkins' adjutant. She was in her early forties, which made her by far the youngest of all, except for Wilkins himself, who wasn't that older. Dvorak had an uncanny sense for telling things as they were, without embellishing or dramatizing. Wilkins often jokingly stared intently at her ears, as if they would have grown a sharper upper end during the night. Rear Admiral Bill Forsythe was a man in his advanced sixties. He brought a more passionate, yet very balanced point of view. He was the diplomat Wilkins didn't care to be. And finally, heading the meeting was Fleet Admiral Lionel Torok Wilkins. At 47, he was the youngest ever to hold that rank, but he had earned it in battle. Schmoozing was not his way of doing things, and all in the room respected him for that. It had been said of him that he had Klingon blood and a Romulan mind. One thing was sure: more than anybody else including the late Picard, he had been the one forging the new friendship between the three powers. And since the Federation had at least brought a considerable number of ships in Klingon space, all had agreed that he would be the only Beta Command Commander-in-Chief both the Klingons and the Romulans could agree on. "People", Wilkins began, "you all have been informed of the discovery made by the Breens ten days ago: survivors of the Palomar Massacre. It seems that for now, the void between there and Federation space is mostly free from the Borg. Thot Gor informed us that although they would keep salvaging the shuttles and pods they would encounter, they didn't have the resources to launch a large scale rescue operation, and they wouldn't risk carrying our people here. But we're welcome to try." "Is it that important?" Wilkins turned to Tomalak to answer, but B'Elanna reacted faster. "Yes, Proconsul, it is very important. Those people feel abandoned, alone on a world where they must either remain inside their not-that-comfortable dwellings or wear environmental suits not even designed for them! And let's not forget that according to the Breens, they have salvaged about three hundred people out of a total of more than twenty-five thousands! Even if only ten per cent are still alive, it's more than two thousand Federation citizens feeling abandoned, isolated, probably hungry and thirsty, maybe having to drink their own urine to survive! It is important, Proconsul, you believe me!" "Like she said", Wilkins added with a smile. "How will you proceed? The Dominion will crunch any Federation ship trying to run out, and we all know that the primitive Klingon cloaks are totally inefficient as far as the Dominion is concerned." "The Klingons don't need cloaks to fight their enemies, contrary to the Romulans, and they have not been conquered!" Karov answered angrily. "PEOPLE!" Wilkins shouted. "We all know that we'll need reinforcement to staff the ships we'll build, once they ARE built, which will require designers, engineers, etc., all things Admiral Dalton had in abundance on the Masada. Plus, I agree with the Ambassador, we can't just abandon those people. And you are right, Proconsul, the Klingon shields are useless. How about the Romulan shields?" "There have been improvements, but they have been implemented on a very small number of advanced ships." "Are there any here?" "I suppose that you want them to leave as soon as possible?" "Please, Proconsul." "Way ahead of you, Admiral. As soon as the information arrived, I sent our four most advanced ships to launch that search." Tomalak was like that. He liked being asked for help. He also loved showing to everyone that he was smarter, more efficient, faster. This time, he had scored on both counts. "Why am I not surprised?" "Because you know me too well, Admiral. It is quite ironic though." "What is?" "A Romulan Task Force, sent to rescue Starfleet officers five years to the day after every Romulan in Starfleet was either thrown out or retrograded … I believe the Praetor will share my good mood. Ladies, gentlemen, I will take my leave of you now and try to get a report on those poor, defenseless Starfleet officers being rescued by their friendly Romulan neighbors." And, with a large smirk on his face, Tomalak slowly left the room … *** "They're coming." General Kira Nerys was so hoping she would never hear that announcement. Four years earlier, she had been put in charge of the defense of the whole Bajoran Space, including the venerable Deep Space Nine, now administered by Starfleet, that is what was left of Starfleet. When the invasion had started again, fifteen years earlier, the Dominion Fleet had completely avoided the station and the Bajoran System in its entirety. Kira was one of the first to understand: no doubt the Emissary had intervened when the Jem'Hadars had entered the Celestial Temple and ordered them to let the Bajorans in peace. Since that time, thousands of Dominion ships had crossed the Wormhole. Thousands of other ships, like the huge 2388 fleet, had gone the long way around and used the surprise effect to take the Romulans unprepared. But now … "How many ships, Laren?" "Three hundred, mostly Cubes, a few spheres." "Do we have anything beside the DS9 squad?" "Maybe we can muster a hundred ships, but all together they are not worth the four Defiants defending the station." Kira gave a tired look at Colonel Ro Laren. Starfleet renegade, Maquis leader, especially after Eddington's death, found after the Dominion War in a Cardassian work camp, condemned by a court martial to an additional thirty years in a Bajoran internment camp, freed in 2390 because of the war, hero of countless battles in desperate causes including Cestus IV, where she had attracted Wilkins' attention by storming with a non-upgraded Akira ship in the heart of a Jem'Hadar wing and emerging six long minutes later, battered but triumphant, leaving behind the dead hulks of thirteen enemy ships, Ro Laren had kept the same young, malicious and sometimes mocking face, although the wrinkles had done their job and her hair was now more gray than black. She was Kira's personal aide-de-camp. "So we're screwed." Kira Nerys had changed even less. The hair was a little longer, a little gray, but less than Ro. The woman was still as vivacious, direct and determined as the ex-resistant had been after Sisko had left Deep Space Nine. The two women made a formidable team, remarkably efficient, as Kira was the strategist and Ro the tactician. A formidable team, in battle and in politics. "Yeah. We're screwed." *** The runabout Escaut was still very far from its destination. Launched from the USS Vienna, one of the ships in the Palomar fleet, it contained exactly eight people. Almost three months after the disastrous encounter with the Borg, they were, like B'Elanna had surmised, almost out of food and water. The replicators soon would give up. The warp drive, damaged in the attack, had worked about three hours before stopping once and for all. The impulse drive was working half of the time, less now. Lieutenant Monica McKeon was in charge of the group. As an engineer, she had tried to keep the systems going, but without success. Right now, she was thinking of her former boss, the one she had so lightly betrayed years earlier, to get a promotion that she clearly did not deserve. "That's it, Sir. Replicators are dead." That was the youngest of the group, Ensign Giuseppe Petri, who was working in Security. Not the wisest, but certainly the calmest of the crop. He used to say that he was too dumb to understand the gravity of the situation anyway. "Wonderful! Well, all we have to do now is eat the youngest." "Over my dead body", Giuseppe answered. "I don't have a problem with that." "Sir?" "What is it, Malcolm?" "I don't think we'll have a problem with food." "What? You found a pizza store that delivers?" "I don't think they have pizza …" Crewman Malcolm answered. As McKeon looked through the small window, she saw with horror the Borg Cube moving to intercept the helpless runabout …
Other ships in Khitomer's universe: Xenon-Class (Joint Klingon/Vulcan-Upgraded Prevaricate-Class Small Raidercraft) Valiant-Class (Joint Klingon/Vulcan-Upgraded Defiant-Class, Mk. 2) * Osiris-Class (Federation "Frankenstein Fleet" Sovereign/Loknar/Ronin-Class Refit Cruiser. Only 4 known vessels left in existence. 1 destroyed, 2 M.I.A., 1 Assimilated.) http://www.geocities.com/trekfan1975/Fleet.html
The ones I really like on this page are the Hornet, the Valiant and the Xenon. That's the kind of ship Starfleet would build against the Dominion and the Borg. That's what they need. Do you have specs?
No, I ordinarily don't include specs as I leave the creativity behind specific weapons & other text data for the fanboys/grrls at USS Miranda, ShipSchematics.Net & Treknology.Org. I'm just a collector of predesigns & varient images. Otherwise, I've been led to believe that the Xenon-Class is ~just~ slightly bigger than a Danube-Class runabout. The Valiant is about the same length & width {general scale-wise} as the Raven-Class.
Great opening, you're really setting a proper tableau to paint a large epic here. Kira was written very true to form, and I like seeing the impact all the time interacting with humans have had on her. She is very much a child of the galaxy now, and your writing reflects this. Looking forward to more...
I'll certainly check those, mostly for inspiration though. Jeez, I hope they have a few Romulan designs ...
Thank you! At this stage, I don't know exactly what will happen to Kira (otherwise where would be the fun?) but yes, she is now probably the most human of all Bajorans. Yes, I think this should be a large epic. I wonder who the hell influenced me to write that way ... Thanks again for the good word! It goes far to encourage me to go on.