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Old November 17 2013, 10:02 PM   #31
Bry_Sinclair
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Location: Along the border of Talarian space
Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

Well so far that's just been five of the more experienced crewmembers onboard. As you say though, they may seem pretty 'with it' so far, but they've by no means been tested by whatever Andromeda has to throw at them.

I have kinda worked out where the ship came from and what happened to it, however you'll have to wait and see what that's all about.
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Old November 18 2013, 07:11 AM   #32
Bry_Sinclair
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

Computer Control Centre, Alien Ship
Position Alpha, Andromeda Galaxy
Stardate: 54201.1 (March 15th, 2377)

Anthony Raine tugged at his collar and wriggled his shoulders, the uniform he wore felt tighter and more restrictive than ever—yet just one more thing to hate about Starfleet. Why he was forced to wear such a laughable outfit bothered him, just the military’s way of imposing obedience onto already mindless drones, if everyone looked alike soon they’d start to think alike and no one would be the master of the own mind, no one would be able to speak out. For too long Starfleet had been force-feeding the public its propaganda, that it was a peaceful and benevolent entity out to do good in the universe, but that didn’t stop their ships for being armed to the teeth, or dragging the Federation into multiple wars and exposing the people to every threat going in the galaxy.

And now they had a whole new one to tick off!

The computer centre was empty; the other so-called computer experts were working from other areas giving him some much needed peace. Though he was at the bottom of their hierarchy, he exceeded them both in knowledge and skill—Lieutenant Ra-Vahneii knew it, as she’d asked for him. So it was she he had to thank for being stuck in the monkey suit—although given the computer he now had to work with, he could let her off the hook.

What he had to work with was truly magnificent. The only computer core for the entire ship was just three decks tall and measured just fifteen meters in diameter, but somehow it was faster than anything he had ever seen, whilst the storage capacity on it made the primary core at the Daystrom Institute of Science and Technology look about as complex as something from the twentieth century. He shook his head, not wanting to dwell on thoughts of DIST (which was where he really should have been).

Raine knew of almost every computer system employed within the Federation, from the isolinear-based core used on the likes of the Mandela to the more advanced and efficient bio-neural gel packs—yet another innovation that the Daystrom Institute had been instrumental in developing. This ship however was far superior than even the gel packs, though did show signs of organic-based technology just centuries ahead of where the Federation was currently. The computer was capable of ‘thinking’, making intuitive leaps, whilst processing enormous amounts of data, running dozens of automated systems at once, all whilst using barely ten percent of its operating capacity and less than one percent of its memory bank.

He wanted to meet the brains behind such a complex core and pick them apart. The advancements that could be made from this ship were truly astounding, had they gotten it to a DIST research base, where the professionals could give it a full and proper examination then the possibilities were endless. Had things worked out then he could’ve been among the experts on such a project and finally out of the ill-fitting uniform once and for all.

Raine was only in Starfleet because of the Daystrom Institute. He had applied for an internship, wanting to work with other computer experts whose intellect came close to his own, but he’d been turned down. At seventeen he’d been deemed too inexperienced for such a prestigious post, so he’d enlisted into Starfleet to gain some, planning on just being in its service long enough to satisfy the Institutes requirements. Then, as always happened to him, everything went to hell. Starfleet went to war with the Dominion and imposed the stop/loss order, preventing him from leaving. So what should have been, at most, an eighteen month stint in the military had turned into four gruelling years of misery. He didn’t even get posted to a R&D facility, instead he’d been one two different stations and a starship, before he’d been assigned to the Mandela for her post-war survey mission—by the end of which the order would have been rescinded and he could finally get back to a normal life. Now though, that just wasn’t to be.

From where he sat at the central console, painstakingly working to circumvent the computers defences and barriers and gain access to whatever new information lay buried deep inside, he could see every other console and monitor. The entrance was behind him whilst before him was the door that led to the core itself, with gangways and ladders that circled it, allowing the computer techs to inspect and repair the mainframe itself. So when one of the panels flashed he noticed it from the corner of his eye.

Pushing off from the table-like console he worked at, he rolled his chair over to the display that wanted attention. Tapping the appropriate panel the flashing stopped and the computer monitor switched to a new readout. This time the screen was divided into two, on one half was the alien text which appeared quickly and soon filled its side. The right hand side of the display appeared more slowly, in Federation standard.

Raine felt a rare smile tug at his lips. It had worked. It had finally worked!

The computer seemed to have a deep dislike of any ‘alien’ system that tried to be connected up to or downloaded into its databanks, preventing it from working which was what they’d been trying to do with the Universal Translator. So he had had to give the core a little root canal, writing the code for the UT into the system from the ground up so that it wouldn’t recognise the device as something foreign—or at least not too foreign that it would reject it again. He hadn’t expected it to take so quickly, thinking that he’d need another few days to get it done properly, but for some reason the system had decided to accept it now.

Just then the entrance opened and Lieutenant Ra-Vahneii strutted in, a purpose to her walk and a scowl on her face. She saw him immediately and marched over to him.

“I was just about to comm you,” he told the Efrosian, turning back to the display and tapping in a few more commands.

* * * * *
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Old November 19 2013, 10:21 AM   #33
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

This guy reminds me of that kid on Voyager who clashed with Janeway. Low rank, superior intelect and overqualified. If I remember right, Janeway eventually got through to him. Ra-Vahneii better get him on board as well. As here it's going to be even more critical to have everyone on the same page and quick.
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Old November 19 2013, 10:40 PM   #34
Bry_Sinclair
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

Patrol, Deck 6, Alien Ship
Position Alpha, Andromeda Galaxy

After the ship had ‘jumped’ from one galaxy to another, the security patrols were stepped up, so as to ensure there were no other surprises left onboard. Chief Petty Officer Warren Stone’s four-man team had been assigned to sweep the forward point of the ship, which meant dozens of meters of corridors, crawlspaces, and rooms across three decks. In order to do so in a quick and effective pattern, he had divided his team into two; he and Crewman sh’Sene took the starboard side, whilst Petty Officer Analish and Crewman Ollin were at port. With sh’Sene being the rookie on the team, he wanted to keep an eye on the lithe Andorian.

As with when they’d first arrived, all the security guard carried their type-III phaser rifle, training it down every corridor, alcove, room and cupboard they checked. Part of Stone’s duties, since they’d arrived in Andromeda, had included a full inventory of their weaponry, so he knew the four rifles he and his team carried were a sixth of their total arsenal—which was in addition to the twenty-five type-one and seventy-nine type-two phasers each member of the crew had come aboard with. It was a decent number of personal weapons, but he would’ve been happier if they had more—and a few grenades wouldn’t have hurt.

“Analish to Stone,” his combadge chirped.

“Stone here,” he replied stepping into another set of empty quarters.

“We’re just about to finish our last two rooms on this side, then we’ll head into the forward room,” the Saurian non-com informed him.

“Understood. Anything to report?”

“Nothing of consequence, just a lot of cabins.”

Stone could hear the hint of tedium in her raspy voice. Though the sweeps were important to ensure that the ship was secured and safe for its new crew, days of empty rooms and endless corridors were beginning to take their toll.

“Same here. Stay sharp though.”

“Aye Chief,” she promptly replied before the channel closed.

The room he stood in was like any of a dozen others he’d been in that day alone; the main space was a conjoined sleeping and living area, with a bed in one corner, a padded seat and coffee table in between them, a small desk and high-backed chair, plenty of cupboard space and shelves, whilst the other set of doors led into a small bathroom. No personnel effects or signs that anyone had ever slept there, whilst the head was spotlessly clean.

He stepped back into the corridor and waited a moment for sh’Sene, who was in the opposite room. She seemed to take just as long as he did checking the rooms, but after fifteen seconds had passed without her emerging from the room, he scowled and stepped up to the door. It opened quietly and he found her sitting on the bed, her elbows resting on her knees, head hanging down and antennae bowed. Her rifle lay beside her on the bed. Giving the room a quick once over, he approached.

“Crewman?” he asked his voice level. She didn’t seem to register his presence. He moved to stand before her and got down on his haunches, his eyes searching out hers, but found that she was light-years (if not galaxies) away. He took her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake. “Ethalatahra, are you alright?”

The sound of her formal name seemed to get through and her eyes focused on him, her brow furled as she saw him. “Chief?”

“You okay? You seemed a little out of it there.”

She gave a nod but he noticed her eyes moisten. He kept his eyes locked on her, searching out the truth from the young Andorian. It wasn’t the pointed look he used to get criminals to confess, or the steely one he used when going into battle, it was the fatherly one—the one that conveyed understanding and forgiveness, whilst at the same time telling the recipient that they couldn’t lie to him. It was a look normally only reserved for Elise or Jerome, but in this instance it was what was needed for one of his team.

“What do we do, Chief?” she finally admitted. “We are millions of light-years from home with no chance of getting back! No one even knows where we are or what happened to us, so they won’t even be looking for a way to get us back.”

“Have you heard of the U.S.S. Voyager?” She thought for a moment and nodded. “I remember when she first vanished; there was a lot of hype and press about the missing ship and the search that they were conducting. They found nothing and the ship was reported as lost with all hands. Then we get word that the ship was swept out to the Delta Quadrant. When I heard what had happened to them, I remember thinking, ‘those poor bastards’. But despite tremendous odds against them, they’ve made it over halfway home. Yes we’re a helluva lot further, but this ship brought us here, maybe it can send us back—and if not that then the people who built it obviously have the technology needed.

“Until then however,” he continued, his voice taking on a harder edge, “we do our job. It’s up to you, me and every other security guard onboard to keep the rest of the crew safe—they are the experts and eggheads who’ll figure this out and get us home, we have to do all we can to make sure they stay in one piece. Alright?”

Sh’Sene looked up and gave him a nod. “Yes Chief.”

With a soft smile he gestured back towards the door. “Let’s get to it then.”

Stone had just led them back into the corridor when his combadge chirped again. “Stone here.”

“Chief,” it was Analish, sounding perplexed, “we’ve got something in the forward chamber you might want to take a look at.”

He was already sprinting when he heard her tone, sh’Sene keeping pace behind him. “On my way.”

It took only a few seconds for them to reach the three storey room at the forward point of the ship. He stepped into it with his rifle raised and immediately trained it on the first thing that moved, which happened to be Crewman Ollin so he lowered the weapon but quickly looked around for a threat. Finding now he turned to Analish, who was facing the bulkhead, her scaled fuchsia head tilted to the side. He moved closer and was about to ask what the problem was, when he saw what she was looking at. Engraved into the metallic wall, using what looked to be a directed energy weapon, were a series of shapes and patterns. It didn’t take a genius to work out it was some kind of language, however even his untrained eye could tell that it didn’t match the alien text used in the ship’s computer banks, it was something totally new.

* * * * *
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Old November 20 2013, 05:05 PM   #35
Bry_Sinclair
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

Forward Atrium, Alien Ship
Position Alpha, Andromeda Galaxy

With the computer finally accepting the Universal Translator programming, it was slowly spreading through the entire system—but since it wasn’t completely unlock then it would take time. For now however, Riell Danal’s first major task was completed. She would, of course, continue to study the language, exposing the slight nuances that every alien tongue had whilst learning a little more about the actual people who wrote it, but with the crew now able to start properly working the consoles and technology onboard she was over the first hurdle.

That was until she’d been called to the forward atrium with Commander Takashima. One of the security patrols had found another alien script, one that didn’t match up with what filled the computer banks. The Commander had set her to work on it, wanting answers as soon as she could get them—which was often easier said than done.

So she sat, cross-legged, on the transparent floor, her UT analyser, tricorder and assortment of PADDs set out before her, her eyes tracing every curl, swirl and loop of the words. Written language was always more difficult to decipher than spoken, especially when carved into a wall and not churning through a computer. The fact that this puzzle had been written with a phaser, meant that is was obviously something that was of importance, which was what she’d pointed out to Takashima. He’d asked why such a message wasn’t left in the computer for them to find, to which she could only guess came down to the systems hostility to alien programming—it’d flummoxed their own computer techs for days. Of course, that just presented a whole raft of new questions.

The one that had her was why were the five lines of text left on the wall of this room? The forward atrium, as it had been dubbed, was a three storey room (unsurprising from the name it was at the very front of the ship) with floor to ceiling windows offering some spectacular views—which could be appreciated from the ground level of from either of the two balconies above it. She surmised it was some kind of social space, their equivalent of a ship’s lounge, going by all the couches, tables and chairs, and what looked like a sleek wooden bar on the middle level (on which she now sat). The deck of the middle and upper levels were made of a transparent material, so occupants could see from top to bottom of the room, which was connected by several staircases.

After she had set about her new task, a security guard had been assigned to stay with her, but she’d found the Deltan man to be more of a hindrance than anything else, skulking around the space, disappearing one moment and popping up somewhere the next, the occasional attempt at small talk, all of which distracted her. After just two hours, she’d asked to be left alone. The room was secure, there were plenty of ways for her to escape should it actually be necessary, plus she had a type-one phaser tucked into its holster on her belt. Chief Stone had reluctantly agreed to withdraw the guard, but had made it very clear that he and his team would be close by should she need them.

Left on her own, peace prevailed, with only the sound of her fingertips on the keypad of various devices breaking the silence. Of course she would’ve liked to have had a Starfleet computer to run her analysis through, but had to make do with what was at hand. She would collect as much information as she could, then run it through the ship’s database and see what it made of the writing—even hoped that the ship might have a record of it.

One of the key ways to translate a written language was to look for repetition; it was one of the bases for communication, sorting letters into words, words into sentences, sentences into ideas. She had to look for words that repeated the most frequently, pick apart their letters and start to build an alphabet. That would take time and she wanted to get it right—this message was obviously of some importance, why else burn it into the bulkhead with a phaser?

Danal sighed and slumped forward.

Posture darling, the sweet voice of Laina echoed in her mind, which made her sit up straight, a sad smile now on her face. How long would it be before she saw the light of her life again? It had been Laina who had encouraged her to take the assignment to the Mandela; after having spent years stuck in communications labs with other language and cryptography experts during the war, trying to crack Dominion codes and create new ones for the Allies to use, she had been about ready to turn her back on her romanticised dream of being in Starfleet. Laina, a researcher for the Federation News Service, had heard of the Mandela’s mission through her contacts. A ship heading out to chart a few systems wasn’t normally a big news story, but Starfleet Command wanted to show that things were getting back to normal following the war, so the piece was really more to spread some good PR than anything else.

Once she had the details, she had told Danal about it and encouraged her to apply. Though they weren’t necessarily going out to study alien cultures, they could discover some remains of a forgotten people on a quiet little world, which would need a skilled linguist—or rather that was how Laina had sold it to her. Danal had taken her advice and registered her interest, then was shocked to be selected to join the mission only a few days later. She was thrilled at getting to do what she had joined Starfleet to do, but the thought of ten months apart had saddened both of them.

It is just ten months, and I’m pretty sure you won’t find anyone as good as me on such a little ship, Laina had teased, plus they do say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Ultimately they’d decided that it wouldn’t be so bad, they could message each other as often as they wanted (though real time communication was out of the question) and afterwards they’d have a lot of reconnecting to do—Danal would need to count and see if Laina had developed any new spots. Never in her wildest dream did she suspect that there would be a literal galaxy between them.

She turned towards the viewports and gazed out at the stars, not even knowing if she was looking towards home.

“I’ll get back to you, baby. I promise,” she told the empty room, her voice resonated around the three levels.

* * * * *
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Old November 20 2013, 07:42 PM   #36
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

Good to see people holding onto hope, no matter how fragile it is. And with the alien graffiti etched into the bulkhead, I’m wondering if our Starfleet contingent aren’t the first visitors to this intergalactic Flying Dutchman. And if so, what fate befell the others?
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Old November 21 2013, 10:58 AM   #37
Bry_Sinclair
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

Weapons Control, Alien Ship
Position Alpha, Andromeda Galaxy
Stardate: 54203.8 (March 16th, 2377)

With the instrument panels displaying Standard the chances of them hitting the wrong key, overloading the weapons system and destroying the ship were significantly reduced. Nhataq had immediately gotten to work on the weapons array, along with the five other tactical specialists onboard and a pair of engineers.

One thing was abundantly clear about the ship, it was designed for combat. Her main armament comprised of forty twin-mounted pulse weapons, comprised of an energy she had never seen before, but with a total output of between ninety and one hundred thousand TeraWatts—making them more powerful than Starfleet’s type-XII phaser array. But that wasn’t the biggest punch the ship packed; there were four retractable cannons on the ventral hull, two forward and two aft, which appeared to be plasma-based and (if the diagnostic scans were to be believed) could generate a minimum of eight hundred thousand TeraWatts. Not surprisingly, each cannon would need time to recharge before it could be fired again, but with that kind of power there weren’t many ships that would be much of a threat after just one hit. She did find it odd not having any torpedo-based weapons, although the ship did have four tubes the magazines were filled with sensor probes or communication beacons.

What was startling though were the shields. Given the size and complexity of the ship, the power of their weaponry (and not forgetting the ability to hop from one galaxy to another), their shields only had a total capacity of 650,000 TeraJoules—not much more than the average Miranda-Class ship. Why would any species design a ship with such a weakness, especially after piling on such and arsenal?

“Ok, am I the only one seeing the flaw with this design?” she asked the others in weapons control.

“Maybe they hoped their weaponry would deter anyone from firing on them?” offered Petty Officer Koeman, not sounding convinced with her own theory.

“They could be behind us on shield technology,” Ensign Abasi suggested. She glanced at the Kenyan engineer with a questioning look. “We’ve seen that they seem to lack containment fields in engineering, instead they rely on the energy absorption properties of minerals—such as in the warp core.”

Thinking on it, his theory made sense. Not every species developed the same technology during their development (Vulcans had never invented can openers for example), so they could have been in the early stages of deflector shields. What shields they did have would provide them with some degree of protection, whilst their multiple weapon emplacements took out a hostile ship before they were in any real danger. It was a possible scenario, but it wasn’t one that she was overly happy with.

“That’s it!” Ensign Yrees exclaimed, startling all the others present.

She scowled at the Bolian, whose earlobes darkened, embarrassed at his burst of enthusiasm. “What’s ‘it’?”

“What if they employ a similar material on the ship itself? Something that would absorb energy—it might explain why the Mandela could scan the interior of the ship; the beam was dispersed by the hull.”

There was a beat of silence in the room as the officers and non-coms looked at one another. Nhataq shrugged her shoulders. “Sounds plausible. Isn’t there someone running an analysis of the hull?”

“Ensign Banaszek and Crewman th’Vohrn,” Abasi told her. “Last I heard, they were still working on it but I’m not sure how it’s going.”

She flashed him a toothy smile and tapped her combadge. “Nhataq to Banaszek.”

“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“Ensign, how is the hull analysis coming?”

“It’s progressing, sir,” the Polish metallurgy specialist admitted, his voice wavering uncertainly.

“Meaning?” she probed.

“It’s a bit trickier than we first anticipated, Lieutenant. Even detached from the exterior, the sections we’re testing are almost impervious to scans.”

Nhataq smiled. “Up here in weapons control, we’re look at the defences and have a wild theory to explain the somewhat low-powered shields,” she told him. “Can I ask, have you tried firing a phaser at it?”

“A phaser?” he exclaimed. “Lieutenant, this is delicate work that needs to follow certain procedures—firing a weapon at the sample isn’t one of them.”

“Ensign, if it’s refracting sensor sweeps and transporter beams, I need to know if it can withstand a directed energy weapon.”

There was a pause of silence over the comlink. “I’ll need to clear this with Lieutenant Ra-Vahneii, if she okay’s it then we’ll run a couple of tests.”

“Please do. Keep me posted. Nhataq out.” With that the link closed and she looked around at the others in the room, all watching her with amazement, admiration or concern. “Keep working on the diagnostics and see if you can get any more out of the shields, I’ll go and speak with the good Lieutenant—convince her to see things my way.”

* * * * *
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Old November 21 2013, 01:00 PM   #38
Bry_Sinclair
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

Astrogation Centre, Alien Ship
Position Alpha, Andromeda Galaxy

Just a few more heavy steps and there would find some relief from the so-called ‘standard’ gravity, Tamin Kenza told himself as the doors to the astrogation centre opened before him. Whispering closed the Elaysian put a steadying hand on the cool metal bulkhead, taking a moment to gather himself once again. Coming from a low-gravity world, moving around the standard environment settings onboard any ship was as easy for him as a human wading waist-deep through a bog—he could manage it, but it was exhausting. If it wasn’t for the exoskeleton around his shoulders, arms, waist and legs he wouldn’t have been able to move at all.

He’d spent five hours on the bridge, seated at the helm, teaching himself the fine art that it took to pilot the alien ship. So far, he was the only one onboard getting the best results, his handling of the controls were smooth and easy whilst anyone else who tried to manoeuvre the ship jittered and juddered. He didn’t know exactly how he managed it, but he definitely had the knack. However when Commander Takashima had asked him to be the new Chief Flight Controller he’d been floored, faster than if his servo controls failed. Kenza was a navigation specialist, he knew all about astrogation, star charts, navigational beacons and sensors, and had only certified as a flight controller as an afterthought. To be asked to man the post and supervise the other specialists and pilots was something he’d never expected, but before he’d had a chance to consciously think about he found himself agreeing to the offer.

Now he wanted to get some peace and, literally, take the weight off.

The astrogation centre (to call it simply a map room was to call a starship bridge a cockpit) was two decks high, with the main entrance on the lower level, and almost perfectly spherical in shape. The curved walls were made of a flawless silver metal which seemed to generate its own illumination—or at least he suspected it did, as there were no light fittings evident. Next to the entrance alcove, where he stood, were several control panels and with a touch of a key one could be separated and carried freely. With one tablet in hand, he hobbled into the room proper, the wall sliding closed behind him completing the sphere, and stood in the centre. Like many of the other computer displays, it was able to give the readings in Federation Standard as well as the alien language.

With a touch of the controls the gravity eased and he felt his entire body relax, his tense muscles eased and, smiling to himself, he pushed off the deck gently and floated upwards. Being raised with such slight gravity, he was able to control his ascent and gentle spins, working out all the kinks and knots that formed throughout his body on a daily basis. Other than the quarters he’d been using, the astrogation centre was the only other place he could freely float.

After his moment of respite, he focused once more on his duties. Another tap on the datapad and the lights dimmed to black, the only light coming from the portable computer he carried. Keying in another sequence there was a faint hum from all around, before the sphere filled with stars, each casting light into the dark. He floated in the dead centre, exactly where the ship sat since she had arrived in Andromeda—which had been christened ‘position alpha’ as it was their starting point—whilst all the stars he could see were what the ships sensors could detect. With no immediate way to return home and the journey likely to take hundreds of years, they needed to gather more information on where they were and look for a way to return back to their galaxy by another means.

He tapped on the tablet again and the view shifted in tighter on their immediate surroundings, enhancing the eighteen star systems within a ten light-year radius, showing the planetary bodies that circled each star. Moving around to face the nearest system, he reached out and touched it. The hologram enlarged the O-type star and two planets, both D-class (incapable of supporting life), and brought up the three moons that were also in the system—one was volcanically and tectonically unstable, the atmosphere filled with toxic gas, another was little more than a ball of ice, and the third was even more lifeless than the planet it orbited. No signs of stations, ion trails, or any other activity anywhere in the system. Touching it again the system shrunk back to join the others and he pirouetted to pick out another.

Then something caught his eye. On the furthest out system from their current position, next to the planet were a few words of alien text. Stopping himself, he touched that system and enlarged it. A G-type star, a couple millennia younger than Sol, one planet and three moons, but the alien writing was definitely suspended next to the small blue/green globe. He glanced at the datapad and ran the translation programme. It took a few moments, but the text was replaced and he could understand it. Oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere, trace elements of other harmless gasses, a little smaller than Earth but stable, with a temperature range of minus forty at the poles to thirty-five at the equator and a diverse ecosystem. Whilst all of that was useful, it wasn’t what Kenza focused on; his eyes were locked onto three words: Trading outpost Ok’ajuuf.

The ship recognised and named a settlement. There was no question in his mind anymore; this ship had most definitely originated from the Andromeda Galaxy—possibly somewhere very near to where they now sat.

He reached for his combadge. “Kenza to Takashima. I need to see you in astrogation, ASAP, sir.”

* * * * *
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Old November 21 2013, 03:35 PM   #39
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

Officer Quarters, Alien Ship
Position Alpha, Andromeda Galaxy

Lying, tucked up in a tight ball in the middle of the bed, Igen Nala listened to her shaky breathing. It was still in the room that had been officially designated as her quarters, which were larger than those she’d had on the Mandela and didn’t need to share, so she didn’t feel as though the walls were closing in on her or that it was getting harder to breath. The isolation or darkness didn’t bother her either, orphaned during the Occupation she’d grown accustomed to both. There was just something about the ship that put her on edge, that kept her looking over her shoulder, feeling like she was being watched, all of which made the tears roll down her cheeks as she lay motionless.

Part of her wanted to scream, to release all the frustration and tension building up in her scrawny body, but fourteen years spent under the boot of the Cardassians had left her knowing that being quiet meant being safe...most of the time. Her body shuddered at the flash of memory, the night that she was left truly alone and powerless. She screwed her eyes tightly shut and tried to think about anything other than the savage leer on the soldiers face above her.

“No,” she murmured, her little voice swallowed up by the silence.

There was a muted bump from somewhere in her room. Immediately she envisioned the Cardassian stumbling towards her, blocking off her only means of escape—

“Lights!” she demanded, sitting bolt upright in bed.

In a split-second the room was filled with light, showing it to be empty and still. Trembling, she hugged her knees against her chest, letting the tears flow freely for a time.

Igen wasn’t someone who handled change easily. Every time she found herself somewhere new she would spend weeks unable to sleep, the nightmares of her childhood coming back to her in the dark. It had been that way at the Academy and then again on the Mandela, where she was fortunate to have a roommate on a different shift. Now, she would face the same night terrors again, whilst during the day she would also feel uneasy.

She knew that Starfleet offered help for those that needed it, with counsellors and therapists specially trained, but she wasn’t someone who opened up to anyone. From her first day at the Academy she had kept to herself, even during group projects or training she would do her part but once it was finished she would make excuse when anyone asked her to join them, after a while they stopped asking. She was better off on her own; she could work away by herself and do what was asked of her, letting herself find comfort amid scanners and analysers, sample containers and test-tubes.

Wiping the sweat from her forehead she knew she wouldn’t be getting any rest that night. She quickly pulled on her uniform from that day, turning away from the reflection of her own nakedness in the mirror that was on the dresser, pulling her copper hair back into a ponytail by feel alone, then went through to the small living space (silently relieved to find it empty). She sat down and pulled on her boots. The ship had several laboratories, more than enough for her to find an empty one and work on the sensors, away from interruptions and memories.

This was a whole new galaxy to be studied, but even here she couldn’t hide from the horrors of her past.

* * * * *

END
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Old November 22 2013, 09:45 AM   #40
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

Read the first three parts, and I'm liking it so far. The characters seem like an interesting bunch, and an Asian First Officer is a nice change. And even though the premise isn't completely original, I am still intrigued to see where this one will go and do differently.
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Old November 22 2013, 12:22 PM   #41
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

Thanks. I hope you enjoy the rest of it.

The concept may have been done before many times in sci-fi, but hopefully I'll be able to keep things different and interesting.
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Old November 23 2013, 08:00 AM   #42
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

Read another two parts and I am liking where things are heading. Even was kind of expecting something to pop out at them from within the shadows. They crew certainly got to work on the ship rather quickly, and I'm surprised they were able to gather as much data from these 'alien' computer banks as they could.

And some smartassed snob is gonna be coming over to tinker with it too, should prove interesting ot see Raine's interaction with these characters. Hopefully Takashima will step in if Raine starts stepping on Zelle's toes.

And I do wonder what that glowing, blue pyramid thing is all about?
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Old November 24 2013, 02:15 PM   #43
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

Now that we know the crew, the adventure can begin in earnest. I'm curious to find out if these guys are ready for the challenges this ship and this new galaxy will undoubtedly throw at them.
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Old November 24 2013, 05:36 PM   #44
Bry_Sinclair
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

I have a couple of stories in mind, the first one exploring the ship and crew a little more and the second getting to know some of the locals and major events or the region they find themselves in.

Hopefully I'll get to working on them this next week.

Speaking of weeks, just seven days left on the naming poll!
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Old December 1 2013, 07:51 AM   #45
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Re: Star Trek: (Unnamed Project) - Crossroads

We have a winner on the naming poll, thanks to all those who voted. So now I present to you my new fanfic series:-

Star Trek: Sojourner
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