The year…2025 "What is project Star trek?" A voice asked, echoing throughout the crowded darkened auditorium where nearly five hundred people sat, staring up at a bare stage; a stage light aiming at podium situated in the center of the stage. "Project Star Trek could quite possibly be mankind's greatest achievement, or," the voice paused for effect, "it could lead to the end of our civilization." And then a man stepped out of the shadows and into the light, and the audience stood up and began to cheer loudly. He was an elderly man, in his mid sixties, but he was very strong looking for a man his age. He wore a very sharp suit and tie, and above all, he had a very friendly demeanor. He motioned for them all to sit back down. "My friends," he said into the microphone, "as you know, my name is Geoff Roddenberry. Everyone one of you has successfully completed the rigorous physical trials and testing that we have put you through. Out of over nearly a half a million applicants, it has all come down to you," he pointed at the audience, and they cheered again. At that moment, behind Roddenerry, an image of space appeared across the large screen that spread from one side of the stage to the other. "Friends," Roddenberry continued to say, as the image of the stars behind him began to slowly go into motion, giving the illusion of flight through space, "our world is running out of time." The star field on the screen slowed, and then slowly zoomed in on a blue world; Earth. "Thanks to our selfishness, our children can barely breathe the air. The Oceans of this world, once brimming with life; have instead become cesspools of pollution and death. If ever there was a time when the people of Earth needed hope, that time is now. And it is that that yearning for hope," Roddenberry said, with loud conviction in his voice, "is what defines what Project Star Trek is!" And with that, the crowd stood and cheered, and then, after motioning from Roddenberry again, they all sat back down, wanting to hear more from him. The image of Earth in space was replaced by aerial views of a massive construction site, which was located in the desert of Nevada. Miles and miles of endless desert land could be seen in the near distance. As the image zoomed in, scaffolding of all kinds could be seen as they zigzagged about a giant object in the center of the cobweb of activity. The object consisted of a giant saucer section connected to a lower section to which, even still, had to long cylinder shaped nacelles reaching out from it. "There she is," Roddenberry said, with awe in his voice, "Your home for the coming five years; the Enterprise." Meanwhile, across the country, the President of the United States, Melvin Greenfield, sat in the Oval Office. To his left sat the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the five- star General Jackson Jefferies. Whereas President Greenfield was a short balding white man, Generall Jefferies was a strong, square jawed African-American. They were looking at a monitor that displayed the very same images of the Enterprise that Roddenberry was looking at in the Nevada desert. "He is aware, I hope," President Greenfield began to say, with his Texan draw, "that this is the United States of America. You just can't go around doing whatever you want; freedom doesn't work that way. Who does he think he is, embarrassing NASA by launching a ship of his own? Why that's...that's...that's un-American!" General Jackson Jefferies wanted so badly to slap the President across the face. First off, embarrassing the modern version of NASA was hardly a new trend. But more importantly; how the American people could have elected such a moron was beyond Jefferies. But electing morons, Republicans and Democrats both, to be President of the United States, was one of those deeply held traditions in America; right up there with owning automatic weapons to use when hunting or selling crack out of ice cream trucks near schools. "Please tell me again," President Greenfield went on to say to General Jefferies, "That we have some kind of presence among his so called crew of ordinary heroes." "We do," Jefferies replied. "Nothing will happen up there in space, sir; that we won't be keenly aware of." The President reached down and picked up his SpongeBob and Patrick dolls and started to play with them. Next to the two dolls was a half eaten Whopper from Burger King. "How in the hell did my predecessor even allow this idiotic idea to get government approval in the first place?" The President asked, with anger in his voice, as he began to have Spongebob and Patrick have a mock fight. "Using nothing but union workers to build that ugly pile of poop he calls a spaceship was a crime against humanity! And then he has the audacity to not allow anyone who smokes to be part of the crew? Does he even know what it means to be an American? Yeah I know," the President said, as he began to answer his own questions, "he paid for it with his own money and all; but still! American's cant go running around creating things and employing people; that's the job of the government! So when is that thing set to launch anyway?" "One week from today," General Jefferies said. "I hope it blows up like the Challenger," the President said, "poof! It would serve him right. The Earth has only been around for four thousand years, and he expects man to soar across the stars; and for what; to find alien life? What a fool. What a fool." There was silence and then suddenly the President said, "DAMMIT!" Startled, General Jackson stood up, ready to defend the President, even though the man was a moron. "What is it Mr. President?" Jackson asked, as he drew his weapon almost on instinct, ready to pounce on any danger and looked about the room. "I broke Patrick's left arm," President Greenfield said, with genuine tears in his eyes. "Please be a good sport and go to Burger King and get me another," he continued to say as he looked up at General Jackson. Again, General Jackson Jefferies had to stop him self from smacking the President's face. Perhaps it was time for a military coup! Jefferies wanted to giggle at such a notion; but he couldn't.
The cover is terrible. No doubt Trelane will be along shortly to provide a cover for your fanfic that will look absolutely unique and nothing like all the others...
No need for money to exchange hands but the opportunity to do a pre-Federation / WW3 / Nuclear Horror-era cover would be ...quite the challenge. I need some background as to what does (or does not) occur in your universe / reboot that absolutely does occur in canon trek future-history. Details such as what town/city or underground bunker does this story occur in? Has the Hermosa Quake occured yet? Is there a Colonel Green or other villain? Is there a pivotal encounter with the science of this "Enterprise", that inspires Zephram Cochrane to build the all-important "Phoenix" the Vulcans detect and investigate? How badly has the Earth been decimated by WW3, perhaps close to where the story takes place? Is this "Enterprise" you're writing about, any relation to the rocket-propelled DY-Class sleeper ships?
In the year 2012, Billionaire entrepreneur and well known playboy, Geoff Roddenberry, announced that by the year 2025 his corporation would launch an interstellar ship, which he called a starship, into space… (FLASHBACK: 2012) "…and so," Roddenberry said, from the podium outside of his corporate headquarters located in the high-tech suburb of San Diego called Sorrento Valley, "I will make the dream of star flight a reality." The gathered reporters, of which there were nearly a dozen, scoffed at his words. Nigel Cummings, of the BBC, asked the first question. "Mr. Roddenberry," Cummings said, with a thick English accent, which was nuanced with a tone of arrogance, "your pal, who runs Virgin records, has already put a ship into space. So what's the big deal with your attempt which is still ten or fifteen years off?" The other reporters moved their microphones closer for Geoff Roddenberry's reply. "As usual, Nigel," Geoff Roddenberry said, "your network, the BBC, which we all know really means Barely Brains Communications, has sent you to cover one of my announcements and again; you're not paying attention," Geoff said with a laugh. "His ship barely gets into space, and then comes back down. It's really nothing more than a glorified airliner," Geoff said. "Pay attention; my ship, the Enterprise, will leave the Earth's orbit and," he added with a flare of excitement, "travel to the next star system; Alpha Centauri, and return three weeks later." "How far is that exactly?" The question was asked by an attractive blond from ABC news. Her name was Debbie Mason, a woman whom Geoff had been intimate with a year earlier so that she could nab an interview with him for Good Morning America. "Is that farther than Mars?" "Is that farther than Mars?" Geoff repeated out loud. "Do they even bother to teach astronomy in schools anymore? Jesus Christ, Debbie, we're talking light years; four of them in fact." Geoff could tell, from Debbie's blank expression, as well as the blank expressions on the faces of the other reporters, that the education quality in American, and probably elsewhere in the world, was being replaced by a zombie generation more interested in their Iphone7s rather than real knowledge. "Then you're talking about traveling to Jupiter and back?" Another reporter from, of all places, NOVA ON LINE magazine, asked. Geoff gave them all a blank expression of his own, and just walked away. Later that night he watched the evening news. All three of his 60 inch flat screen monitors, which hung on the wall of his spacious office, were tuned to a news channel. He listened to each report of his announcement, and was upset that the story was buried to the fluff segment towards the end. Later, as he prepared to call it a day, and head back to his house in Rancho Santa Fe, the voice of his secretary called out from the phone. "Sir, you have a visitor," she said. "His name is General Jackson Jefferies." "Send him in," Geoff said, as he put on his sport coat, getting ready to leave. The door opened and the General (just a Two star general at the time) came in. "I'm about to leave for the evening," Geoff said, "So can we make this brief?" "I understand," General Jefferies said. "Are you serious about your plan to send a manned space craft to the next star system?" "I am," Geoff said, as he buttoned up his jacket. "Although, from watching these idiots," he pointed at the three network news anchors, "it doesn't seem as if anyone really understands what I am saying I can do." "Oh believe me," General Jefferies said, "it is understood more than you think. Everyone is laughing at you because, let's be frank, it would require that your ship travel faster than the speed of light, and if it is too the next star system and back in a matter of weeks, far faster than the speed of light. You should hear what Stephen Hawking just said about your endeavor on NPR." "He's just another fool," Geoff said, as he sat down in the chair at his desk. General Jefferies came further into the office, and sat at on the chair across the desk from where Geoff was sitting. "He's only about the smartest man to live since Einstein," Jefferies said with a laugh. "What makes you think you can do what he says is impossible?" Geoff smiled at General Jefferies. "General; do you really think I'm going to just tell you?" Geoff Roddenberry asked. "I mean, if I could do what I said I can do, wouldn't that make our relationship a more, shall I say, interesting one? You know; national security kind of crap?" General Jefferies grinned at Geoff. "You'll get no problems from us," Jefferies said. "But do you think the Chinese or the Russians are going to sit back if they think you can really do this?" "No, they probably won't. So then I guess I'm lucky that I am an American citizen and have you and the US military protecting me." Geoff replied with a smile. General Jackson Jefferies stood up. "I have a feeling you will eventually come to me for security help," General Jackson. "Our current President, or the one after him, will come and go, but I will still be here when that time comes; remember that." "I will," Geoff Roddenberry replied softly. And then the general left the room. Continued…
Robert Scorpio / OverJoyJackson: How do you like my versions of your story's "novel cover"? I'd like some feedback, if that's okay.
You do understand the concept of a troll don't you? Surely you can grasp that this isn't an actual fanfic?
Yep. I do like them indeed. However, in this trek universe (an alternate universe Mr. Sandoval) its really just a normal universe like ours. Its the year 2025, when not in flashback, and Geoff Roddenberry has built an Enterprise and it looks just like the one on the old Star Trek show. Kirk and McCoy will soon be in the story. Spock will not be in the story, yet, but Gary Mitchell will be. But this is different universe and has nothing to do with the TOS universe at all. A different take on the Trek formula, which may confuse Mr.Sandoval. No Klingons..yet. No Vulcans..yet (though one makes an appearence soon). Mr. Sandoval may not like it and thats cool. But yes I do like your art covers a lot. I have absolutly no art skill so thank you.
So, let me get this straight, in your alternate universe, Billionaire Entrepreneur Geoff Roddenberry has built an entire Constitution-Class starship rather than a DY-Class sleeper ship or an NX-Class? It just doesn't make sense to jump that far ahead past the launch of the Phoenix. Did Roddenberry somehow recover the Vulcan ship from "Carbon Creek", combine ~it~ with Area 51 technology, in order to circumvent the Vulcan tendency to hold back critical resources to keep Humans from progressing too quickly?
By the way. I have seen some of you other covers. You are actually good at what you do and they each have their own look. Everything you just said in your last post would be true if this was taking place in the traditional trek universe. Although I liked XI, I wasn't thrilled with it. This is just a different spin on Star Trek if it were totally rebooted and went in a totally different direction. I can understand why some might not like it.
The Year; 2025… It is September 12th, and it is two days until the launch of the ENTERPRISE! The sound of a piano swelled and pulsed through the upscale house that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. The house was worth in the millions, and was situated atop the beautiful cliffs of La Jolla California. The sun had just set, casting an orange hue across the sky, giving the illusion that the heavens above La Jolla had been set afire. A man, in his late fifties, sat at a large grand piano, his hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. He was totally nude, and glided his fingers over the ebony and ivory colored keys. He didn't use sheet music, for he played from the heart, as only a true accomplished classical pianist could do. The piece he was playing, Chopin's Prelude in C Minor, had been his favorite music arrangement from the time he had been a child. He had played it so many times, it was as if as it had been fused to his soul. Knowing the music as well as he did, he played it with his eyes closed. When there was time to play the piano, all he needed were his ears, and the occasional puff on a tightly rolled joint, one of which was balanced precariously on the edge, above the keys. And sure enough, as he was about to continue, he stopped mid phrase, and reached down for his joint, brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply. His name was Zephram Cochrane. And within one week, he would prove that Einstein and Hawking were fools; they were both children next to him. Cochrane's Fomula, laughed at by every notable theorist in the world, was based on a twenty-seven factured dimensional universe, with contrails that dove into, perhaps fifty-seven other entrophy flared dimensions. (Author's note...thanks Tom Stanchon.)He had had the formula imprinted on a square gold plate, and hung it above his piano so that he could look at it from time to time while playing the piano. As Zephram played the piano, having segued into a jazz arrangement of the Queen classic, Who Wants To Live Forever, he thought back to the times he had been laughed at by his peers who saw his theory as a joke. Part of the formula had been used by Geoff Roddenberry's science labs to prove and then capture the highly elusive anti-matter particles that would be needed to make faster than light travel possible. At that moment, the doorbell to his home rang. Zephram, a devout nudist, did not bother to put on his robe and made his way to the door and opened it. Geoff Roddenberry stood at the doorstep, holding two large bottles of Captain Morgan. "My maid didn't come today," Zephram said, "So I have no clean dishes or glasses." "Why do you think I brought two bottles," Geoff said, as he came inside, handing Zephram one of the bottles. "And would you please cover up," Geoff pleaded. "What if I had been a Girl Scout selling cookies coming to your door?" "I would have closed the door immediately," Zephram said with humor in his voice, "now, had you been a Boy Scout Den Master, say, in your young thirties, I would have invited you in and drilled you on your knot tying skills." The two long time friends sat on different couches. Zephram did indeed cover up with a towel. "Besides, I thought you told me you were bi," Geoff said, as he opened up his bottle and took a long drink. "Where's that cute redheaded babe you had naked atop that piano last time I was here?" "Oh, her," Zephram said with a smile, "she was actually a he about two years ago." They both took long swigs from their bottles. "That's some pretty wild stuff, if you ask me," Geoff said. "But, hey, it's your life. Now, what about this crap I hear about you not coming to Nevada for the launch? It better not be because you think it's going to do a Challenger on us." "It isn't going to do a Challenger," Zephram said, "Wow, I still remember that day; I was there. I couldn't believe it. Hell; Reagan was a moron, but his speech at that memorial was one of the best ever." He took another long swig. "Yeah, I remember," Geoff said. "And I really remember that movie, what was it, Questor Tapes the Motion Picture? Didn't it have some kind of dedication to the Challenger?" "That's right," Zephram said, nodding his head, "that was the one when they saved the whales." Geoff, who was getting tipsy, looked straight into Zephram's eyes. "I want you to be there, Zephy," Geoff said, using his friend's nickname, his words slightly slurring. "I already told you," Zephram said, "I'm not going." "What do I have to do to get you to come?" Geoff asked. "Listen," Zephram said, "I did the formulas for you; I oversaw the construction of the anti-matter containment fields and the Warp engine, for you. I just don't want to be there and be part of the rah-rah spectacle of movie stars and politicans cheering for something they don't understand; it just isn't my thing. And if I had to meet that idotic BBC reporter, Nigel Cummings, again; my head would explode." Geoff shook his head and laughed. "Hey, Zephy, this is me you're talking to," Geoff said to his friend, his words slurring even more, "you don't want to be there because he's going to be there; your son." Zephram looked up at his wall where the picture of his son was displayed proudly. A son whom he had never gotten along with. A man named James T Kirk.
Interesting stuff. Though, may I ask why there's no WW3 references or Nuclear Horror or even a reference to the recent near-meltdown (in Fukushima Japan) & recently detected radiation levels (30 times normal levels between 80 and 3,020 nGy/h in Kounosu Naka, downwind of Fukushima?) It would add a bit of emphasis for a Vulcan black-op's style intervention or "discrete first contact" if they think we're about to poison/destroy ourselves. PM me if you'd like to talk further. I tried to PM ~you~ but your profile hasn't got that feature on it.