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Old June 30 2011, 12:07 AM   #76
The Badger
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

I don't know. If I got really fed up with her I might do a Conan Doyle and chuck her off Reichanbach Falls.

And then resurrect her unconvincingly twenty years later.
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Old June 30 2011, 03:22 AM   #77
Duncan MacLeod
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

Unlikely. You love Polly too much. She's ditzy, smart, sarcastic, sexy and innocent all at the same time. She's a blast to read about and I'm sure that it's equal pleasant to write her scenes.

Although I still see her as Taylor Wane, rather than Bianca with Jeri's head.
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Old July 7 2011, 08:40 PM   #78
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

Excellent. And soon-WAR!
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Old July 11 2011, 04:32 PM   #79
The Badger
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

The surface of Galador III. October 27th, 2151.

Polly awoke. That turned out to be a mistake. The right side of her head screamed with the most intense pain she had ever experienced, a nauseating throbbing echoing throughout her skull. She gasped, and tried to open her eyes. The left one slid open a fraction, the right was swollen shut. All she could make out were blurred shades of grey, the floor of some sort of cave perhaps, so she let her eye shut again.

Automatically she moved tried to move her hand to her injured head. Both hands moved together, then stopped. As sensation returned she realised they were bound, uncomfortably tight, behind her back. Her ankles were similarly tied, and linked to her hands. Kicking her legs just yanked on her arms.

An attempt to take a deep breath failed. Something was pressed over her mouth. It felt like some type of adhesive tape. She could only breath through her nose, and her right nostril was blocked.

Abducted, gagged, and hog-tied. This is the beginning of either a perfectly wonderful evening or a perfectly dreadful one.

She was whistling in the dark, and knew it, covering up a growing terror with an attempt at levity. She realised now that the throbbing in her head was her own racing heartbeat. In a moment of sheer panic she struggled desperately to free her self. No subtlety or delicacy, just a frenzied thrashing as if brute force alone could break her bonds. The worst part was she knew just how futile her actions were, but couldn't stop herself.

As exhaustion claimed her she slumped back down. And then came the horrified realization that something was moving towards her. She forced herself to open her good eye. Things were still blurred, but she could make out a tall, slender figure approaching her. It stopped. Though it was in silhouette, the mouth of the cave behind it, she got the impression it was looking at her.

It made a noise, a series of soft rolling clicks.

A memory. A family get together. Her mother's people, a military line going back centuries. Polly was something of a black sheep, her involvement with the anti war protests hadn't gone down to well with the rest of her family, but she'd just picked up her fourth doctorate and the clan were in an accepting mood. Uncle Philip, over lunch, roast lamb with mint sauce, "...the one thing that always got to me. The noise they made. They'd click their mandibles. Click click click. Their way of talking, I suppose. But it got on my nerves, I'll tell you."

Click click click.

Axanar...

Behind the gag Polly moaned and tried to draw away. Her vision blurred, and she felt awareness slipping from her. Part of her thought it might be the effects of her injuries. Oh let's be honest. I'm terrified and about to faint.

As she passed out she was glad to have thought that. She had always tried to be true to herself, and the fact that she was honest under such extreme circumstances gave her some comfort.

Just not very much.

***

Before joining Reed's unit 'Red' Grant had gone by a different nickname. The Bloodhound. She was generally regarded as one of the best trackers in the military.

Her father hadn't wanted a daughter. Not that he disliked women in anyway, but his own childhood made him used to a male dominated environment. Rare as it was in this day and age, by chance most of his friends and work colleagues had been male as well, and he simply didn't know how to interact with women, except in a romantic sense. So when little Isobelle was born he was at something at a loss as to how to cope with her.

Though hunting was very much out of fashion in most quarters, it was still allowed with proper legal permission. Jacques Grant had was a skilled and enthusiastic hunter, and kept his paperwork in good order. His family, and several neighbours, ate well after one of his regular hunting trips, and he spoke with great passion about his experiences. Perhaps it was this that led the five year old Isobelle to ask if she could go with him. He'd laughed this off as a childish fancy, saying she was much too young, but she had been insistent.

(Many years later she'd been talking about this in a bar on Schofield Station, and a know-it-all had suggested that she'd been looking for a way to spend more time with her father. That was certainly plausible, she'd often felt that her father maintained a certain distance up to that time. The know-it-all had then made other comments, based upon his inaccurate understanding of Freudian psychoanalysis, the nature of which earned him a generous thumping).

As a compromise Grant had taken his daughter on a camping trip just a few kilometres away from home. They'd set up a tent in a small forest clearing, cooked beans and bacon over an open fire, and sang songs. As evening fell Isobelle suddenly became very scared. She became convinced, in the way small children, and some adults do, that some nameless horror was hiding in the woods, ready to attack.

"Do you trust me?" Jacques had asked. She nodded wordlessly, and he took her hand, leading her deeper into the woods. They found a fallen log, and sat in silence for perhaps quarter of an hour, his arm round her shoulder.

Eventually he said, softly, "We are the safest people in the world."

She asked why.

"Listen carefully. Hear all the sounds around you. No one can approach without our knowing."

There were noises, sounds she had not noticed before. As she heard them her father explained what they were, and the imaginary terrors retreated behind a sense of wonder at this new world she was being introduced to. At one point he told her to stay very still, as they were about to get a visitor. A small fox strode by in the faint moonlight, almost close enough to touch. Suddenly it became aware of them, stopped and stared, then darted away. She hadn't heard it approach, but she heard it leave.

They'd returned to the camp site shortly after, and she slept soundly. From that point on daddy-daughter camping trips were a regular occurrence, but there was still more she wanted. For her eighth birthday she was delighted to receive a small target rifle, which, with her father's tuition, she soon became highly proficient. By the time she was ten she'd started joining her father on his hunting trips. Legally she was not allowed to do any hunting herself, but she took along a camera and claimed that would be the only thing she'd do any shooting with. There were always plenty of photo's when they returned to satisfy the authorities, none of whom ever seemed to notice that, whilst the larger game had always been brought down with a high calibre hunting rifle, a much smaller weapon had been used on the various birds and rabbits the Grant's took home.

Sixteen was the minimum age to apply for a provisional hunting licence, but the Grant's knew the appropriate officials very well and the paperwork and background checks had been prepared well in advance. Isobelle received her licence within two hours of waking on her birthday. By the end of the day, she'd taken her first buck. It was a bitter-sweet moment for Jacques, who realised his daughter had eclipsed his abilities. There was little more he could teach her. By the time her next birthday came round he had given up hunting entirely, to spend more time with his wife. He had, truth be told, lost interest in the sport some time ago, and only continued as he wished to mentor Isobelle. His beloved rifle went to her.

At the age of eighteen she joined the military, Ground Forces infantry, as it seemed a productive use of her talents. The war had not yet started, but conflict seemed inevitable. As soon as she'd completed Basic she applied for sniper training, but was turned down. No one got in straight after Basic. Instead she was shipped out as one of the security troops for Camp Fortitude, a forward operating base on the Veltran home world. Axanar military 'advisers' were stirring up trouble amongst the Southern clans. Earth had pledged to help the North, out of a dedication to liberty and interplanetary friendship, and nothing at all to do with the vast mineral reserves, no sir.

Early in May 2142 it all kicked off. The Southern clans struck without warning. The initial attacks, mostly remote detonated bombs, were targeted on human troops and equipment. Though the devices were crude, they were effective, and the near simultaneous timing of the attacks demonstrated highly advanced planning. This was only the precursor to a much stronger push. Southerners with Axanar supplied weaponry and armoured fighting vehicles struck multiple bases. Camp Fortitude was one, and Grant got her first taste of combat. She didn't like it. Being holed up in one location wasn't to her taste. Much better would be to strike the enemy when he didn't know where you were, or better yet, didn't know you even existed.

Still, she did well enough to get noticed by her CO. Not that it mattered at the time. Camp Fortitude fell swiftly, most of it's complement dead or captured. She managed to avoid either fate, slipping away into the jungle. It was most unlike home, but she'd spent a bit of time getting to know the lie of the land, and talking with the local trappers. Four days later, limping slightly, and very hungry, but otherwise fine, she walked into Camp Justice over sixty kilometres away. The intelligence about the fall of Fortitude added significantly to the little already known. Grant was also asked to brief a number of soldiers on the terrain she'd passed through, as they were planning operations on that area. The clear, concise, and relevant summary was much appreciated.

To her surprise there were a number of marines at those meetings. The Marine Division was generally tasked with ship security, boarding actions on enemy ships and stations, and other space borne operations. Apart from sudden assaults to establish a landing zone, from which they'd quickly withdraw once Ground Forces were in place, they'd normally take no part in planet-side operations. She learnt however that the GF were bitterly outnumbered, so any marine with relevant ground training was being reassigned to help out. Fleet ships had been carrying extra marines recently, so, hopefully, the vessels in orbit wouldn't be in too much risk. Amongst their number was a Sergeant Reed, who listened attentively to what she said and asked some smart questions.

To her annoyance she was assigned back to regular infantry duties. Other units, including marines, went on raids behind enemy lines. She was stuck providing security at various bases. Things got even worse when, after several months, the fleet managed to establish a full blockade. Without Axanar weaponry and equipment the Southern forces folded rapidly. For most soldiers this was welcome news but Grant was frustrated by the lack of action. As a precaution Earth maintained a military presence until after the war's conclusion.

Eventually she was shipped back to Earth. First chance she got, she applied once more for sniper training. Her CO at Fortitude, who had been freed from a POW camp by troops acting on information she had given, gave her his full backing. Though no one told her at the time, she entered training with skills not far short of a fully qualified graduate. Her tutors taught her all they could, and she graduated top of the class.

With the war now over there seemed little for her to do at first. That changed as organisations like Terra Prime and Earth First grew in strength and boldness. She was temporarily assigned to JATO, the multinational anti-terrorist unit. Despite working mainly in unfamiliar urban environments it suited her talents. During this time she met once more with Malcolm Reed, now a Lieutenant out of Sandhurst.The Marines, he explained, were being re-organized. The war had shown that they would be needed for much more than ships security. Although the bulk of planetary work would still be performed by Ground Forces, all Marines from now on would be cross trained for dirt-side missions. There was even a new unit, a special forces commando group, being formed. Would she be interested?

Her CO was not pleased when she put in her transfer request, Too good a damn soldier to lose. But the marines reorganisation had political backing, and he had to allow her application to go through. She 'swapped her khaki for greens', as the saying went, accepting a demotion from Corporal to trooper in the process. Marine training was similar to GF in many respects, but the emphasis on shipboard combat and zero gravity warfare nearly threw her. Everything else she managed with no real difficulty. Perhaps because of her background, the Marines put her on the Scout/Sniper course as soon as she applied. Again a lot of this was familiar territory to her, but she did pick up a few new techniques, as well as showing a few of her own.

And from there...the Pathfinders. A four week course of arduous, gruelling activity. Thirty kilometre runs in full fighting order. Forced marches. Obstacle courses. Live fire training. Observation and memory tests. Escape and evasion skills. Jungle survival. Arctic survival. And that's just the Selection process, to weed out those not good enough to get in. Afterwards, that's when the training really starts. Whatever skills you have, the Pathfinders need more. Although every squad member has at least one speciality, usually more, all are cross trained in a variety of skills. If a medic drops in a fire-fight, at least one other trooper can take his place.

She was not surprised to be assigned to Reed's unit. Her new nickname took some getting used to. 'Red' Grant, a character from one of the lieutenant's favourite books. She'd been with him since, including the incident that had seen them assigned to the Enterprise in the first place. That had seemed a dull posting, at first. Things had got better since then...

***

The trail was clear, the foot prints heavy. One person, carrying a weight. Yes...."See there? The slight discrepancy between left and right foot print? Our professor was being carried over her captor's right shoulder. Do you agree?"

Archer, pistol held ready, shrugged. "I'll have to take your word for it, Trooper Grant."

"I can't even see any foot prints!" Mayweather admitted. He and Archer were accompanying the two marines. The rest of the expeditionary party remained in the clearing.

Dumont said "Well I agree."

They continued deeper into the forest. Archer's communicator bleeped.

"Sato here. I've sent the message to Enterprise asking them to return immediately, but it'll be another fifty minutes or so before they receive it."

Archer let out a slow frustrated breath. He'd known that would be the case, but that didn't make things easier. "Acknowledged."

"Beowulf Two is in pre-flight now, we will be with you in five minutes. And all the drones have been re-tasked to your area."

"Thanks Hoshi. Let me know when you get here. Archer out."

Grant gestured him forward. "Captain. Look at this."

In a small clearing, one of Polly's hiking boots lay on the floor. This time Archer knew well enough not to go near. "That strikes me as ...suspicious."

Grant smiled softly. "The laces, they are cut. With a sharp blade, I think." She glanced around, found a fist sized rock, and tossed it at the boot. With a sharp crack! a springy sapling sprung from concealment. Sharp stakes fastened to it's length stabbed though the air at knee height.

In the silence that followed Mayweather said. "Damn. I knew I should have stayed in bed."

"If it is any consolation, Mr. Mayweather," Grant explained, "that trap is not meant for us. It is too low down. It is also placed on a track in the vegetation. It is for killing those boar like creatures, I think. Like the ones we saw earlier."

"For food?" Archer asked.

She nodded. "Or protection. If our quarry lives in this area, then the territorial bores would be a problem. Unless he deals with them first."

Once sure it was safe, she lead them on. This, she told herself happily, was what she had joined up for.
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Old July 12 2011, 10:40 AM   #80
Duncan MacLeod
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

Excellent chapter, Badger. Good background on Grant and Malcolm. Top marks.
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Old July 19 2011, 08:42 PM   #81
Mistral
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

That was great. Loved the background on Grant.
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Old August 2 2011, 03:46 PM   #82
The Badger
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

Apologies as usual for the lack of updates. Real life keeps getting in the way (people say Star Trek fans have no life, if that were true, I'd have all the time I need for this). I'm still working on it though!
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Old August 2 2011, 05:33 PM   #83
jerriecan
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

Take your time - this is worth the wait.
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Old August 14 2011, 10:12 PM   #84
The Badger
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

The surface of Galador III. October 27th, 2151.

The sinking feeling in Hoshi Sato's stomach was only partially due to the upwards motion of the Beowulf. She was sick with worry over what may be happening to Professor Partridge. Trying to concentrate on the task at hand she hit the transmit button on the communications panel. "We've just launched sir. We'll be with you in less than two minutes."

"Acknowledged Hoshi. Trooper Grant's found a good trail, we're getting close. I'll keep you informed. Until then, Archer out." The Captain's voice was flat, distorted. They were operating under military protocols now, and the compression software intended to stop the enemy listening in or tracing transmissions had the side effect of removing most of the distinctive tones from a persons speech. But Hoshi didn't need to hear his tones to know that Archer was angry and upset.

Trooper Tipping flew the craft. They were avoiding a straight line approach, coming in from an oblique angle. Again, military protocol. Although it added only a minute to their journey it annoyed Hoshi, who wanted to get there as fast as possible. But with the rest of the landing party onboard---the alternative was to leave them at the camp site unguarded---they weren't going to take any chances they didn't have to.

"Did you say something Ma'am?" Tipping asked.

"Ah, just practising my Axanar." Hoshi replied. She hadn't realized she'd been doing it until he'd asked. "It's very difficult for humans to speak. Getting the tone right takes a bit of concentration. I thought I should try and get back into the knack." She paused, then clicked her tongue a few times.

"And what does that mean Ma'am?"

"'Please don't shoot'." she said, adding "I'm hopeful we can resolve this peacefully."

There was a non committal grunt from the marine. "Well, just in case we can't...I'm bringing the cannon on line."

Despite being a military vessel, Beowulf class landing craft were not well armed. A single 72 MJ plasma cannon, for self defence and landing zone suppression, was turret mounted at the chin. Normally it lurked within the craft, to avoid messing up the aerodynamic and stealth characteristics. As Tipping activated it panels slid aside to let it drop into place, and the coils began to charge.

There was an addition to the craft's normal fire power. From deep within their supplies the Marines had unearthed a veteran EM-2HB rapid pulse laser. Judging by the slight reluctance in their body language as they unshipped it, Hoshi would have bet good money that it was here without the Captain's knowledge. Probably something Mr. Reed had insisted that they take along just in case, 'but don't tell the captain'. The laser was now pintle mounted at the open starboard hatch, operated by Corporal James in a quick release monkey harness. Too heavy to really be man portable, and with a tendency to overheat, 'Emmy-deuce' had found a role as a vehicle mounted medium weapon. With energy and coolant supplied directly from the Beowulf itself it could well make a difference in any conflict.

One of Hoshi's monitor screens showed the top of the weapon, pointing down at the blur of tree tops bellow. James' helmet communication system, including the output from the small camera, were routed through a cable into the Beowulf's internal systems. Although low tech, the direct link couldn't be detected or hacked like a wireless system.

It also meant a greater resolution for speech, and the concern in Corporal James' voice was evident as she asked "Do you reckon she's safe, Hoshi?"

Hoshi had no way of knowing, and James must have known that. She wanted reassurance more than an honest estimate. "Hey, of course she is. She's got us on her side, remember?"

"Yeah...thanks Hoshi."

Hoshi sat back in her seat, studying the monitors. As much as she hated to admit it, she was glad the Marines had broke out the heavy fire-power. Despite her words to James, she wasn't at all confident.

***

Gradually Polly became aware that she had returned to consciousness, though she still felt dizzy and light-headed. Some instinct told her to remain still, and let her captor think she was still out of it. There was the sound of rattling and clanging, like metal draws opening and banging shut, then footsteps moving away. After a moments hesitation she risked opening her good eye a fraction.

Vision was still blurred, but she could make out the tall figure near a bright area she presumed to be the cave entrance. There looked to be some sort of barricade there, it's shape too regular to be natural. The figure was holding a rifle of some kind, it's details too indistinct for Polly to be sure of the type. For a moment the captor turned in her direction, light glistening off the insectile eyes, the only features she could determine.

She almost laughed. As an aficionado of old science fiction, the fact that she, a nubile young-ish Earth woman, had been captured by what could be described as a 'bug eyed monster' was too ironic for words. It was the sort of thing she could spin into an amusing anecdote later. Assuming there was a later.

She stopped that train of thought right there. There would be a later. There would. Tales of the Axanar eating their prisoners were just stories with no basis in fact. Propaganda. Soldiers tales, to frighten the rookies. That's all. That's all.

Just stories.

A hissing whine, not loud but sudden, caught her attention. At the cave mouth the slender shape flinched and raised it's gun. After a moment her befuddled brain supplied an identity for the noise. A Beowulf landing craft, using sonic baffles. The baffles couldn't stop the sound entirely but they reduced it and made it difficult to determine it's origin. If she could hear it this clearly then the source must be close. That implied that not only was she being searched for, but the searchers must have a fair idea of her location.

A tiny blossom of hope began to push back the fear that had threatened to overwhelm her. She was suddenly aware of a discomfort in her shoulder, a jagged bump on the floor of the cave. With Bug-Eyes frantically peering out in search of the source of the noise, she felt safe enough to wiggle downwards slightly, until the bump was besides her head. It might have been wiser to move the other way and work on her bonds, but she was having trouble breathing. And so, with great caution, she rubbed the side of her face against the jagged edge, trying to tease the adhesive tape away.

***

Captain Archer looked up as the noise of the Beowulf blasted overhead, trying to spot it, but it was pointless. The tree canopy was too thick, too little of the sky could be seen, and with the baffles active he wouldn't know where to look in the first place. He flipped his communicator open instead. "Hoshi. Trooper Grant's followed the trail to a cave in the cliff face, about thirty meters north west from our current position. The trees aren't as thick there, so don't get too close yet, there's no telling what the Axanar will do if it sees you. I think you can risk sending one of the drones over. Get James and Tipping to work out a way to approach that place undetected, we can't see a way from here."

"Acknowledged sir. What's your current status?"

"We're currently holed up in the tree line, hopefully unseen. Grant's got the cave under surveillance, but the mouth is partially blocked with what looks like parts from a spacecraft of some type. Hmm. Maybe you should get the remaining drones to check around here, see if there's any trace of...hold on." Whilst he'd been talking Mayweather had come over.

"Sir, Grant's spotted something."

Archer followed Mayweather over to where the sniper had secreted herself, sitting cross legged behind a fallen log. She'd removed the rifle's under slung grenade launcher, replaced it with a bipod stand for greater stability. There was a data cable leading from her telescopic lens to a marine issue heavy duty pad. Without taking her eyes from the lens she said. "Saw something interesting. Thought you should see."

The captain got down low and crawled over to the pad, taking care not to show himself above the fallen log. He looked at the pad. A freeze frame image, a patch of ground at the base of the cliff, trees, bushes. And five rectangular piles of stone, with larger rectangular stones at the head of each.

Travis had followed Archer over, staying low. "Those look like...graves." he said.

"Yes." Archer replied. "Yes they do. And that is interesting."

Mayweather thought for a moment. "Yeah, yeah that is weird. I mean, didn't you say..."

Archer nodded, and turned to Grant. "Red, where is this?"

"About ten meters north of the cave mouth. I was looking for a way to approach, saw the stones, thought it might be significant."

"I'll say so." Archer nodded. "Can you get us a closer look at one of these headstones?"

"Sure." The rifle's barrel swung north then back. Less than a second. But a new image, crystal clear, popped up on the pad's display screen.

Mayweather peered closer. "I said it before and I'll say it again. Weird."

Using another data cable Archer linked the pad to his communicator. "Hoshi, I'm sending you an image. I need a translation."

Things went slowly, the secure compression adding to the transmission time. Eventually they got a reply. "Sir? You're not going to believe this..." She explained. Archer did believe it. He was beginning to figure out what was happening.

"OK, the Beowulf has a public address system, right? Here's what I want you to do...."

***

To her immense relief Polly managed to get the tape half way off her mouth. She sucked in a deep gulp of breath. For a moment she considered getting the rest of it off, but decided against it. The bit she had loosened still hung limply over her mouth. In the darkness it might look as if she were still gagged. Maybe now she should work on her bonds...

Suddenly the whine of the Beowulf loomed closer. And with it, a voice. Hoshi's voice, booming as if from a loud speaker. The words were lost on Polly, it sounded like it could be Italian, and while she knew Latin well enough she was unfamiliar with the more modern language. Still, there was something about what was said, something that triggered memories...not the words...but...

The rhythm. The rhythm of the words was what was familiar. She'd heard it before, even spoke it herself, though not often, and not for a very long time.

The Lord's Prayer.

The slender figure staggered back as if punched in the gut, giving cry to a low, keening wail. The rifle dropped to the ground. Gloved hands rose, tearing the insectile goggles free and tossing them aside. The hood followed.

A man. Mid twenties or so. Dirty, unkempt, matted hair and beard. Tears left trails in the grime on his face as he sobbed uncontrollably, shoulders shaking. He collapsed into a foetal position, wailing.

Polly stared dumbstruck. Then, very uncomfortably, she rolled over and over until she was lying atop the dropped rifle. "Weapo..." she coughed. She took a deep breath, cleared her throat and tried again. "Weapon safe! Room secure!" she shouted.

Hoshi's magnified voice, which had been repeating the prayer from the beginning, cut off. She repeated her statements, over and over, until hazy shapes appeared at the cave mouth.

"Don't hurt him." she said. And, once more, passed out.
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Old August 15 2011, 02:39 AM   #85
Duncan MacLeod
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

Ah, a survivor from the Patton. Facinating.

But somehow I don't think we're out of the woods yet.

BTW, Badger, considering Polly's interest in old SF, and Martial Arts movies and TV, how familiar is she with Highlander?

It might be fun to hear her throw out a quote that only she gets.
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Old August 16 2011, 08:13 PM   #86
Mistral
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

That was interesting. ANd highly unexpected.
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Old August 18 2011, 10:30 PM   #87
Trelane
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

I was bored to bloody tears and decided to screw around with an MS Paint-like application online and created an e-book 'novel cover' for 'strange new world'. Enjoy.

http://img4.imageshack.us/img4/9351/entsnw.png





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Old August 19 2011, 02:02 AM   #88
Duncan MacLeod
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

The problem is Badger's Enterprise is a modified ringship. It doesn't look anything like the NX.

Nice try though.
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Old August 19 2011, 01:37 PM   #89
The Badger
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Location: Im in ur Tardis, violating ur canon.
Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

Duncan MacLeod wrote: View Post
BTW, Badger, considering Polly's interest in old SF, and Martial Arts movies and TV, how familiar is she with Highlander?

It might be fun to hear her throw out a quote that only she gets.
She probably knows it quite well. Unfortunately, I don't. It's been years since I saw it, and thanks to the TV channels messing around with the schedules I only caught a few episodes, so don't expect any quotes. Although Queen's 'Princes Of The Universe' is a favourite of hers. Especially when trying to distract herself from shuttle flights.

Trelane wrote: View Post
I was bored to bloody tears and decided to screw around with an MS Paint-like application online and created an e-book 'novel cover' for 'strange new world'. Enjoy.
As Duncan says, the Enterprise in my fiction isn't of the NX design. That's a brilliant cover though, and I love the look of it. Thanks for that!
(Though I do hope it wasn't reading this that had you bored to tears!)
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Old August 19 2011, 02:43 PM   #90
Duncan MacLeod
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Re: Starship Enterprise: Strange New World.

Ask and ye shall receive my friend.

http://www.hulu.com/highlander?c=Action-and-Adventure

The whole series available for free as a streaming download. Although there are commercials.
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