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|November 3 2013, 07:34 AM||#1|
Location: Another Galaxy. Canada.
STAR TREK: PIONEER - Season One
Once joining the United Federation of Planets, Starfleet discovered their unique talents for flying and feeling their way through space, making them valuable pilots for starships. Many joined as NCO's to explore the unknown along a crew of mixed races from through the UFP.
After the construction of Gama Station One, some Xoasians even joined up for academy courses that were being taught aboard.
Now in the year 2390, a retired, middle-aged, Captain is asked back into service. He is a man who has seen his fair share of battles, and left due to a haunted past. Filled with regret for what he became during and after the Dominion War. Not only brought accepting this mission for pure exploration of the unknown. But to hopefully rectify past mistakes and mend bridges of a kind...
Captain Charles Gibson is given command of the first ever newly built, advanced long-range, Deep Space Explorer ship; created to replace the Galaxy class. Unofficially called the Galaxy Mk II. Officially, the first in it's class, the USS Pioneer. NCC-971986.
He and his gallant crew made of some familiar, and some never before seen races. Will take the Pioneer out on it's maiden voyage into the uncharted regions of the Gama Quadrant.
It's mission: To seek out new life.. New civilizations.. and to Boldy Go Where No One Has...
Author's Note(s): This is definitely a new adventure for me... actually attempting to write a ST fic isn't easy. I am more used to writing short episodes in a Japanese Superhero format. But I after doing that for so long I became bored and wanted to try something new. I have considered doing this before, but due to medical reasons I was prohibited from doing so.
Now is a good a time as any to get back into the swing of writing stories again. Though in a different format to what I'm used to. I am going to try and do these in a Novella kind of format. Each episode will have a prologue and so many chapters, I'm hoping for at least 6 chapters each... though it could end up being more. Just depends I guess, and I don't think any of you would mind more chapters to a story. I just hope some stories won't be too short. heh.
Still I hope you fellow Trek writers/ fans will enjoy these stories when they go up. Constructive critiquing is welcome, honestly I think I need it cause I'm a little rusty at this now... Especially since I've been working on scripts/ screenplays a lot more lately. Heh. But, I want to tell this story about this crew. It's also partly a Father-Son story and in that sense I hope you won't bash that aspect, with the Son being the First Officer aboard ship. I honestly haven't seen it done before, at least not in ST fanfiction. If it has, then well... guess this is my take/ spin/ what have you on it. I find the dynamic to be quite intriguing, and want to tell that particular story. Got some pretty fun ideas in mind for it too which I think you'll enjoy.
Whoa, this note is longer then I thought it would be. LOL
I cast the majority of the characters already, just for fun.
Mandy Patinkin as: "Capt. Charles Gibson." -CO.
Jensen Ackles as: "Lt. Cmdr. Ryan Gibson." -XO.
Chris Rock as: "Lt. Cmdr. James "Jim" Radcliffe." -Chief Engineer.
Devon Aoki as: "Lt. T'Lea." (Vulcan). -Science Officer.
Kate Beckinsale as: "Lt. Tara Renn" (Bajoran) -Tactical Officer/ Security Cheif.
Yvonne Strahovski as: "Dr. (Cmdr.) Susana Song." -Specialist/ 2nd Medical Officer.
Hugh Laurie as" Dr. Malbret Hainan." (El Aurian) -Primary Medical Officer.
Dwayne Johnson as: "Lt. Ba'lon." (Dalfian) -Ops Officer.
Maria Mitchell as: "Cadet Ki'llan Xobe." (Xoasian) -Helm.
Bella Thorne as: "Ensign Majel Lucas." -Astrometrics.
Alexandria DeBerry as: "Ensign Dalia Vorrok" (Uk'Zir) -Shuttle Pilot/ Transporter chief.
Jeremy Reiner as: "Lt. (j.g.) Evan Hawke." -Fighter Pilot.
Morgan Freeman as: "Admiral Gary Radcliffe". -Cheif of Star Fleet Engineering at GS1.
Sigourney Weaver as: "Fleet Admiral Amanda Headly".
Episode 1x01: "Strangers in a Strange Land". (In progress.)
|November 3 2013, 11:01 PM||#4|
Location: seduced by The Coolness in Phineas & Ferb's backyard
Re: STAR TREK: PIONEER - Season One
Damn the resonance cannons, full speed ahead!
|November 5 2013, 06:51 AM||#5|
Location: Another Galaxy. Canada.
Re: STAR TREK: PIONEER - Season One
LOL, honestly I didn't know there was a real person with that name... now this explains why my dad gave me a funny look when I told him the name. XD The reason behind the name was more so cause of Patinkin watching Charlie Chaplin on Criminal Minds, and Gibson cause I didn't want to use "Gideon" cause he was called that on CM. lol And Gibson sounded like an interesting last name I haven't given a character before and kind of stuck in my head. It was also pretty easy to remember to be honest. lol
About the ship... I'll just say for now, it's a little bit bigger then the Galaxy. :3
|November 11 2013, 12:42 PM||#6|
Location: Another Galaxy. Canada.
Re: STAR TREK: PIONEER - Season One
P I O N E E R
"Strangers in a Strange Land
Between AQ and Bajorn Borders, ten light years away form GQ Wormhole.
STARDATE: 65701.77 (Jan. 22Nd).
Hanging in the vacuum of the black covered in pinholes of light and smokey, splotches of brightly coloured nebulae, hung the first deep space, Federation outpost – Gama Station One. Right in that empty space between the Alpha Quadrant and Bajoran borders it orbited within a system of six planets and two suns. The home system of the Xoasians about ten light years from the Wormhole that allowed ships to travel from the Alpha to the Gama Quadrants.
After the Dominion war and the events of 2387, Starfleet found themselves in a bit of lull due to the division in the remains of the Romulan Star Empire. Factions joined up with the Federation – while others – branched into a brigade of pirates and terrorists. Exploration went mainly on the back burner for a time, until thing had quieted down. Now though, with the permission and aid of the Xoasians, Starfleet was able to erect a space station in a fairly friendly, but unknown sector of space. Negotiations with the blue skinned, four-armed, peaceful and warm achieved race, proved beneficial to both parties.
The Federation gained a new ally, while the Xoasians gained faster warp technology and protection from outside threats. Even some have joined up with Starfleet, with quite a few doing Non-commissioned duties aboard vessels. Some enrolled into classes aboard Gama Station One, with research teams and facilities being stationed upon the Xoasys home planet and colony worlds, in a kind of exchange program.
Xoasians unique, natural abilities have come to make them valuable pilots and assets to the Federation Fleet, over a short period of time. They also seemed to have a desire for exploration of the unknown just like all races within the United Federation of Planets. Granted their ritualistic society was quite different and sometimes difficult to understand; exploration became the unifying goal between the Federation and Xoasys in the end. A singular point to a well grounded beginning and understanding as it were.
GAMA STATION ONE (GS1):
Outer-docking ring, corridor.
Briskly walking through the corridor of the third, outer docking ring pod, was a late twenty-something, dark haired man in a blue, science division Starfleet jacket and black pants. Around the collar and down the front came a thin black line, revealed how one would fasten such a jacket. The line intersected a thicker one that went around the shoulders. Two golden pips reflected brightly, on the thicker trim-line on the right side. His comm-badge, a solid silver Starfleet Delta Chevron, outlined in gold with a 23rd Century, gold command star in the center.
Coming to junction port of a Jeffery's tube, the young officer stopped then gave a quick look down either end of the corridor. The coast was clear from the looks of it, and he didn't hear anyone's foot steps approaching either. Adjusting the strap of his equipment box over his right shoulder, the young officer grabbed the metallic hatch-grips, turned them. It let out a subtle, low hiss of the pressure-seal being released. He checked again to make sure he was alone before opening it, and crawling into the Jeffery's tube, closing the hatch behind him.
GS1: Transporter Room 3.
Looking at his own reflection, Gary Radcliffe felt the cold vacuum of space through the protective layers of the force fielded, transparent aluminium window. His old, weary eyes stared back at him while he studied features. The almost snow white, short cropped haircut he sported matched the stumble upon his chin, complementing the ageing, brown skinned face. At least, that's what Gary believed. Though he was not looking to impress anyone in particular today, instead he was here to stand with a long time friend from way back.
Honestly he thought he would of have been more nervous then he was at this moment. Just that the thought of where his best friend was going, especially under the circumstances, allowed him to keep those emotions in check. He would need a friend right now and more then likely, down the road from this day forward. Which Gary was happy to be; because being out in the Gama Quadrant, cut off from Command, with only this base and the very few who were stationed here... it was no going to be easy. It wouldn't be for anyone, though he had seen some make the adjustment a lot easier then others. Usually those officers were the younger ones, but a few veteran Captains did surprise him.
Possibly even Charles would surprise him, in fact he counted on it when he arrived aboard the station.
Raising his right hand, Gary gently rubbed with the tips of his fingers against five, shiny pips. They represented his rank of Admiral, a rank he still felt undeserving of. It was when he realized the mission and who was being asked to take on such a long assignment, that Gary finally accepted it. Somehow there had to be a way for him to use this promotion to his advantage, at least to Charles'.
“Admiral,” said a voice from behind Gary. He turned to a very tall, yellow jacketed Benzite at the transport control console, and gave a nod for him to continue. “Captain Gibson is ready to beam up, sir.”
“Good,” said Admiral Radcliffe, tucking down the bottom of his red jacket. They never ever did fit right, but he was sure it was just in his mind this time. The weight of the higher rank was getting to him, he assumed, and was never one to pull rank. It just wasn't him.
Standing off to the right of the transporter console, Gary casually held his hands behind his back, then turned to the Benzite, Transporter Chief. “Energize.”
The blue skinned Benzite went to work typing on the console, without his breather, connected to his chest getting in the way of his vision. The cold smoke pouring out of it vanished fast enough for him to see what he was doing as he typed expertly into the panels and then slid three fingers upward upon the pitch black glass, light it up with three yellow-sectional bars.
A moment later the familiar hum increased in a volume slightly, and shortly following that the blue steams of light shot up from the yellow-orange transporter pad. Disappearing into the top of the transporter, the remaining blue particles of energy materialized the solid form of Captain Charles Gibson. He appeared decked out in a the red complete red jacket and black pants, like Gary's, but with only four pips across the somewhat thicker trim across the shoulders. The middle aged Starfleet Captain took a look around the dark, dimly lit and quite large trasnporter room. Giving the back of his head a scratch, he could feel the slight balding spot near the back of his short, dark brown bair.
“Permission to come aboard, Admiral?” asked Charles, as he gave a soft grin to his oldest and really, only friend in the fleet.
Gary returned the grin and gave the Chief a nod to leave his station. “Granted.”
The middle-aged Captain stepped down from the now dimmed transporter pad and walked on up to the Admiral. He offered his hand and felt Gary's firm grip take it, giving it a good shake as well. Charles jumped a bit as Gary gave him a quick tap in the gut after the Chief left.
“I see retirement's been good to you, Charlie boy,” jibed the older Admiral.
Laughing it off, Charles shook while looking down at himself, “Yeah, it has indeed. The uniform's a little more snug then it used to be. But...”
“Feels good to be back in it, huh?”
“You could say that,” replied Gibson as they both left the transporter room and entered into the brightly light, light grey corridors that were lined with beige along the walls. Maroon carpets lined the floors and black computer-panels lined along the top section on one side of the corridor. “Nice place, nicer then being put on that cramped ship all the way here.”
“Didn't you take the wormhole?” asked Radcliffe with a puzzled expression dropping over his face.
“Yeah, to get into the Quadrant,” Charles answered, “It was the rest of the way here. I think they deliberately took the lowest warp speed possible. Or at least the bumpiest course.” He gently rubbed the back of his neck, tilting it to one side to work a kink out.
“It wasn't a smooth ride, I can tell you much.”
“Well you won't have to worry about that now, Charlie boy,” said Gary as they turned down another corridor and headed for the turbolift at the end. “All the comforts of home are waiting for you. But first...”
A twisting and turning sensation formed in the older and slightly taller Admiral's stomach. They both knew what he was going to say, but hoped he would just move onto another subject. Or maybe he would if he brought it up like he knew was going to. Though the opportunity to finally get some answers as to why Charles decided to come out of retirement all of the sudden. There was real reason behind it and he knew it would bother him if he didn't find out what it was. Especially before he left for the uncharted regions of the Gama Quadrant. Gary would of liked to have gone with him, but his recent promotion gave him the duties of Chief of Starfleet Engineering aboard GS1. Preventing him from taking any deep space exploration missions at all.
“How is she?” asked Charles, quickly glancing over to see what reaction he was going to get.
“The same, Charles.”
Captain Gibson nodded and looked down at the floor for a second then back towards the beige, enclosed turbolift doors. He knew that whenever he would call him by his full first name instead o the nickname he gave him at the academy all those years ago, he was meaning business. Deciding to let it go he watches the side lights go from down-to-up, to right-to-left on the wall of the lift. The elevator had switched directions and Gibson figured they were close, but he hoped this conversation wouldn't stay awkward all the way there. “I was just curious, Admiral,” Charles replied sombrely, “Besides, she asked me here.”
“Yes, but why did you agree to it?” Radcliffe questioned with a furrowed brow, then turned and gave his middle-aged friend an arched eyebrow. “You never gave into her requests before... what's changed?”
“People change over time,” said Charles trying to keep things light, fearing he'd mention the other thing that he know puzzled his almost, white haired superior officer and friend.
“Oh I didn't say anything,” Gary replied aloofly, not making eye contact with his younger subordinate. Though somehow he know it was only a matter of time before he caved in, all he had to do was let him think it over.
Charles thought it over, wondering if he should give him the full answer or just some little white lie. In the end as the turbolift doors whooshed open, Charles decided on what to say. His friend was here, by his side, going to see the one person he was dreading to see again after all this time. At least he thought it was dread... though it would of been butterflies... Gibson did consider the possibility that it was something else, that maybe he did miss her—wanted her back. He just wasn't here for that though, and with his mission Charles was to take command on, it would make things difficult it not impossible for a rekindling of the past. Though there was one request he knew he'd get the okay to, and maybe fix or smooth some things over with.
“I'm doing this to mend some bridges...,” he muttered, barely audible enough for Gary to hear. Then he turned to his older friend, “Is that what you really wanted to ask?”
Gary looked back at him, “It's commendable that you want to fix some past mistakes. We all do. There is always something we regret and wish we could take back.”
He took a brief pause to muddle over saying the other thing on his mind but in the end decided to be out with it, “And then there is the fact we're not that far from Dominion territory.”
“Your point?” asked Charles a little more sternly then he would of prefered, while turning away as he too felt the twisting in his stomach.
It wasn't something he wanted to remember or even at least discuss. Gibson knew where they were, he knew where he was heading and it was not anywhere close to that part of space from the mission brief he read on the way here. Starfleet Command left his course up to him, since he was being sent out to explore a large area that Starfleet has never been. Still, bringing that up made him a little curious as to why now, after all this time would he would mention about Dominion space.
Gary turned to his friend once more and gave a small, weary smile mixed with pity.
“Charles,” began Admiral Radcliffe, “I don't mean to push. I don't mean to pull rank, you know I'm not like that. Never been that way either.. I just always wanted to be an Engineer. But....” He then sighed heavily, “If you don't want to tell me why you're really taking on this assignment, then don't. But I am still going to be a friend. In this place you'll need at least one.”
“It's that bad?” Gibson wondered aloud with surprise.
“I'll just say you weren't Amanda's first pick,” Gary answered, “To be honest, I don't know what changed.”
“Maybe...,” Charles murmured as he consider a possibility that Amanda wanted to patch things up. Or at least, wanted to see him.
“Never mind, Gary...,” replied Gibson, then he added solemnly, “Sometimes I just over think things too much.”
“Hmmmm...,” the Admiral murmured. Gary had an idea of what his friend was probably thinking, though he also knew how stubborn and pigheaded they both could be. Just that he also knew better then to but in on something that clearly wasn't his business. Although the older Officer did hope that maybe someday they would ease up and meet one another halfway down the road. Like another fellow, Starfleet Officer was quoted saying: “There are always... possibilities.”
GSI: Outer-docking ring Corridor.
Sometime later a tall and slender, Melanin skinned, European man in a golden jacketed, security uniform was making his rounds on the docking ring. It was yet another boring day on the job for Ensign Silva as he yawned on yet, his third patrol this morning. He hated the early shift, but at least he hoped there wouldn't be another shift waiting for him when all was said and done for the day. Unlike last week with that supposed call in at the last minute. He had had a gold pressed latinum for every time somehow called in sick, he'd be richer then a some of the Ferangi he had dealt with once or twice.
Just as he made it around the rounded corner of the corridor, a Jeffery's tube hatch opened in the somewhat darkened, junction area. Cautiously, Ensign Silva sauntered over to the wall and quietly peeked around. He stood there, hidden from view as the blue uniformed Lieutenant crawled out of the Jeffery's tube.
Silva snapped back to reality, realizing that him, a security officer was hiding when he should just move on by. Though he was positive there were no repairs scheduled for today, and it was peculiar for a science or medical officer to be the Jeffery's tube. Watching curiously, Silva noticed the case this dark, pale skinned Lieutenant had with him was a tool box. Even the tricorder on his hip wasn't medical or science issue either. Something was obviously up with this and that's when he felt his palms began to sweat a little.
Resting a shaky hand upon the smooth, curved, black and silver grip of his Phaser, he nervously stepped out of hiding. Clearing his throat, the young, Melanin secuirty officer spoke up, “Excuse me, Lieutenant. What are you doing in that Jeffery's tube?”
The Lieutenant ignored him and continued on with his work, opening up a panel to reveal a power relay conduit. Quickly the blue uniformed officer began to type on the control panel, constant beeping echoed in the corridor as he disengaged safety locks, diverted excess power flow and by passed sensor scans. Grabbing a small, flat, palm sized device from the grey, rectangular toolbox, the Lieutenant then slapped it onto a vacant part of the panel. Pressing a few buttons on it sent an electrical surge through the relay's security grid which in turn shorted it.
“Hey!” exclaimed Ensign Silva as he marched on over, pulling out his Phaser as he got closer, “What the heck are you doi-AGH!”
The pseudo science officer moved like lightening with incredible fluidity as he grabbed a hold of the security officer's wrist. In one quick motion he broke it, disarmed him of his weapon and smashed the young man's head into the bulkhead. The impact left a small blood stain dripping to the floor next to the now unconscious body. He then knelled down next to the body and coldly, lifeless looked it over before placing a couple fingers upon the young man's neck. After checking for a pulse and finding one he then went back to work on the open conduit.
Quickly unscrewing and dislodging a cable that he had switched off, he then turned back to the fallen Ensign. An interesting idea slowly began to form, or possibly programing, not even he knew for sure. Though indeed it would serves his purposes and take care of two problems and possibly help the next phase of the plan move a lot quicker. In turn it would force him to move a lot faster as well, but he was prepared for it. The original plan was effective enough as it was, but this gave an even bigger advantage, even though it would also draw more attention.
Kneeling down next to his toolbox again, the Lieutenant opened it and retried a twenty centimeter, silver and bronze sonic driver.
GSI: Admiral Headly's Office.
Fleet Admiral Amanda Headly sat behind her desk with her legs crossed, elbows upon the arms rests and her fingers somewhat intertwined together. Resting her chin against them she waited, patiently for the Turbolift to finally arrive at the far end side of the rather large office. It even had a massive window to one side, opposite of her on the upper level secluded by dark, wooden railing. It was kind of lounge area, were as around her desk, there were standard, black leather chairs. Definitely designed for business she thought and kind of fitting possibly. Up there you could relax and stare at the stars, but down there you got down to business.
Brushing her curly, shoulder length brown hair away form her face, she then gently turned the ring around her left hand's middle finger. Amanda stared at it for a long time as her thoughts wandered back into the past. There the good memories mixed in with the bad and in the end it was the bad ones that became the more prominent in the mind's eye. Slowly Admiral Headly's gaze came down upon the shiny, dark finish of her black and wooden trimmed desk, as she saw her fair reflection looking back at her. Those sad green eyes staring back gradually turned to anger she followed the subtle traces of wrinkling upon her face. She was not ugly by any sense of the word, but age wasn't exactly too kind to her either, though really the cause she know was rooted in the stress she's been through most of her life. There were even times where Headly wondered how she even held on, but really, that answer was simple. The simple fact was that there was no other choice, she had to keep it together. Even now at this very moment there was no ifs, ands or buts about it.
As the turbolift finally stopped at the far end of the dim, ambient office level; Amanda pulled down her red jacket and checked her bared pips to make sure they were on straight. They were. Then she resumed her original posture, cleared her throat and calmed herself down enough to put on a slightly stern expression.
The doors soon slid apart with a whoosh, shining the bright turbolift lighting like column of sunlight into the darker office. Captain Gibson walked on in first with Admiral Radcliffe right behind him then beside him as they made their way over to Headly's desk. Charles noticed the stern look upon her face and instead of doing the same, he gave a small, but genuinely warm smile. Even Radcliffe gave a courteously smile as well.
Amanda smiled and nodded to Gary but to Charles, it looked a little forced, in fact it was obvious. Though deep down she swore she felt her heart skip a beat, only to refocus her mind on the meeting instead. This was business and nothing more, just the usual reporting in to the CO in charge, and get your assignment sort of meetings. Just that in this case, there was indeed a little more to it to discuss before dismissing the the Captain.
“Have a seat gentleman,” said Headly a little more forcefully then she had intended, but at least she could get away with it.
“Admiral,” both Charles and Gary said and then took their respective seats on the other side of the desk.
Charles leaned back and crossed his legs, where as Gary sat a little more relaxed and took a deep breath. Gary was a little curious on how calm his younger friend was coming off, at least it was a hell of an act he thought. Secretly he hoped they'd work things out calmly and civilly, but that could be a little too much to ask for in the long run. Realistically it was only a matter of time before it went from argument to screaming match. Ranks be damned.
GS1: Outer-docking ring corridor.
The Lieutenant typed into the well panel and turned on the power conduit relay after riging a flurry of cables, wires and circuits. Everything had been rewired and a primary, see-through cable had been wrapped around the unconscious Ensign. It glowed brightly as the plasmatic energy surged along the clear tubing and into the capacitor upon the wall.
Quickly picking up the toolbox after putting everything he used away, he grabbed the phaser and pulled out his tricorder to take a few scans. Everything was looking normal on his screen and he punched in a few commands into the hand-held device. Closing it up and holstering it, the pale skinned Lieutenant stepped over the knocked out security officer as he switched off the weapon and tucked it away in his toolbox. Looking back once more the nonchalant science officer waited until the Ensign started to regain consciousness and then disappeared around the corridor.
Shaking his head, Ensign Silva tried to break free of the splitting headache he was feeling. It honestly reminded him of the worst hangover he had a few months back. Rubbing the back of his head he forced himself to open his eyes and focus them. Groggy was an understatement with how he feeling now, and then he noticed the blood trickling down the side of his face. Pressing a few fingers to it and then prying them off to look at the red liquid coating and sliding down them. Blinking a few times he was able to see it a little more clearly and it began to freak him out a little. Unfortunately he felt the weight of something holding him down while trying to get up. Looking at himself, the young Ensign could see a large array of wires and glowing, charged cable around him. Following it all the way up to the open wall panel freaked him out even more.
Unsure of how to unconnect himself he figured calling for assistance would be the best solution. Taking in deep breathes the young Ensign security officer brought a small sense of calm to his erratic mind. Then he looked over at his comm-badge on the left side of his jacket and tapped it, activating the comm-chirp.
GS1: Fleet Admiral Headly's Office.
“You will be in this section here,” stated Headly on the Stellar-graphic map behind her desk on the large, wall monitor. The forty-eight year old Fleet Admiral pointed to a large, vacant space between the Alpha Quadr and Bajoran borders. “This is the area on unexplored space the mission is designated on. Plenty of room to discover new worlds, lifeforms and civilizations. Though I can't guarantee you won't run into hostiles while out there...”
“When can we ever?” Gary said as a matter of fact, and give his friend beside him a tiny bit of a chuckle.
“I know, we all take that risk when taking on these assignments...,” sighed Charles, “Comes with putting on the uniform.”
“So why did you accept this mission?” asked Amanda with puzzled look, and she truly was curious as to why he did. Though her theory wasn't that far off from the truth, but there was more to it. There is always more to it then that with him, he she learned one thing from their time together. There was always more then one reason for everything.
“Why did you ask him to come out of retirement for this?” Gary inquired while staying relaxed, though honestly he felt himself tense up a bit. Even though he was an Admiral... she was this sector's Fleet Admiral. Some part of him hoped that their friendship would give him some leeway, at least a little more then Charles. It was definitely one of the benefits of being a long time friend to both of these officers.
“Don't deviate from my question,” Headly replied sharply then turned back to Charles who looked back at her.
Captain Gibson sat forward while staring down for a moment at his boots while he pondered on how to answer. “Like I said before... the only way I'd come out of retirement was on a mission of peaceful exploration.”
“Yes, I remember, Captain,” answered Headly crossing her arms, waiting for the rest of his answer to finally spill out.
“This is one them and granted I can't count on it being just about exploration all the time. There are bound to be mishaps along the way. That's life. I'll take it as they come, but... I think I have a chance to mend some bridges while I'm at it,” Charlie added as he looked his superior commanding officer in the eye for the first time today.
“No,” she said coldly, “I can't believe you are even considering it.”
“Oh I've thought about it for a while now, and from the reports...”
“He's egotistical, a hot shot, no respect for his duties...-”
“I know,” Charles said, cutting Amanda off and then continued, “I want to make him my First Officer. Give him a chance to appreciate and learn some responsibility. It could be good for him. In fact... it could be the best experience for him. Better then just keeping him here on a leash. He needs to go out out on his own to learn things the hard way. Through life experience for lack of a better term.
“It'd be a great opportunity for him and I to get reacquainted with one another, Amanda. I need to make up for some lost time... we both do.”
Amanda gradually slumped back in her chair and stared down upon the dark finish, although she herself was lost in thought. There really wasn't much of a reason to keep Ryan there, doing mundane assignments, staying close. He was a man now, a fully grown young man and an officer in Starfleet. She could of obviously pulled rank and just flat out said no, but then to back it up would of caused her to write a report. All that paper work just cause she didn't feel he was worthy to promote due to his actions and behaviour. Granted it would be enough and legitimately a solid reasoning, but Headly also knew that there was some logic to Charles' way of thinking too. Having to run a space station and then watch over her son as well left her even more stressed. Still her motherly instincts were more or less the main reason to keep him there.
“Maybe...,” she began, reluctantly, “Maybe I do need to let go of some things. Let you be a father if you seriosly want the job again.”
“I do,” Charles told her flat out, his expression unchanging and he was dead serious about it. It was there... staring right into Amanda's eyes. “But I will also be his Captain and his friend. Everything a young, brash officer needs rolled into one as best to my ability.”
“Alright...,” Headly agreed, grabbing a PADD off to one side of the desk and began to type, “I'll put the transfer through. Do you want to promote him to Lieutenant Commander?”
Just then outside the large, office window a small cruising, transport shuttle docked with one of the outer-ring pods. Suddenly there came a boom, followed by several small ones until finally the entire pod exploded. Pieces of of the docking-ring pod and the shuttle scattered throughout the vacuum of color and blackness, adding to the mass of pinholes that were already there, twinkling in the dark lifeless sky. The flashing shock wave filled the office window for a brief second, blinding all three officers for a moment.
They rose up to their feet and stared out towards the destruction in shock and horror of what just happened...
|November 12 2013, 02:02 AM||#7|
Location: seduced by The Coolness in Phineas & Ferb's backyard
Re: STAR TREK: PIONEER - Season One
Damn the resonance cannons, full speed ahead!
|November 13 2013, 08:33 AM||#8|
Location: Another Galaxy. Canada.
Re: STAR TREK: PIONEER - Season One
And thanks for letting me know, I'll make sure that's fixed in the next chapter, then I'll go back and fix it in this one.
|November 15 2013, 02:00 PM||#10|
Location: Another Galaxy. Canada.
Re: STAR TREK: PIONEER - Season One
What did you think of the prologue though? :3
|November 22 2013, 08:20 AM||#11|
Location: Another Galaxy. Canada.
Re: STAR TREK: PIONEER - Season One
"Strangers in a Strange Land"
Xoasys, Xet-bey City Ruins.
The first rays of dawn shone over the valleys upon valleys of rust-coloured rocks and old, archaic architecture of ancient, abandoned city. It was one of the oldest of the Xoasian race, spanning a thousand miles in every direction. Now only hollow, empty structures, caverns and drying wells remained. There was also tranquillity to the desolate city, that if you could quiet your mind you could have found a sense of calming or a peace of mind. Some of the Xoasians believed that you could even hear the songs of the dead within the walls if you listened carefully.
On the hills of Transcendence as they called it, a petite. slender, four-armed, blue figure moved with such fluidity that one could call it mesmerizing. Holding twin, curved golden daggers like kunai, the female Xoasian swung her upper arms towards the sky and the her lower arms she tucked in around her waist. As she knelt her head tilted up towards the twin suns rising slowly over the mountain range. The suns reflected upon the embedded crystals along the top of her wide cheek bones as she smiled. After a moment her expression turned serious. It was a fact that she, Ki'llan Xobe took the morning ritual of waking the most seriously, believing that she should give thanks to the Deities for allowing her to be alive each and every morning. To her it was a gift that should never ever be squandered, or taken for granted.
Unsheathing the lower daggers from their side holders, Ki'llan began to swing her arms in slow circular movements. Her upper arms turned clockwise and her inner arms turned the opposite way. As she speeds up the edges of the jewelled kunai scrapped across one another, showering bursts of sparks all around her. Gripping tighter with her thin, three fingers and thumbed hands onto the leather, brass-handles, Ki'llan began to perform a unique form of dance, making quick, circular movements with all her limbs in perfect sync.
If any other bipedal alien tried doing some of these ritualistic movements, it'd be a chiropractor’s nightmare. It was only thanks to the unique triple jointed skeletal structure of the Xoasian people that allowed Ki'llan to do such unique turns and other odd movements. Each fluid motion meant something specific in the waking ritual.
As she plunged all four, double edged kunai's into the rocky ground below her feet as she knelt, finishing the ritualistic morning dance of thanks, Ki'llan took a deep breath. Rising up on her reversed jointed legs, the beautiful blue skinned Xoasian sheathed her blades into the holders on around her teal, loin cloth waist and on the back of the four sea-shell armour bra. Quickly tying back her violet and green highlighted, tentacle like hair into a pony tail, Ki'llan made her way to the edge of the cliff face and stopped.
Swinging her slender arms wide and arching her body as she tiled her head back, and slowly iris diamond-shaped, green eyes shut. Ki'llan allowed the warm dawn rays wash over her body, as if allowing the pours within her blue pigmented skin to soak it up. A genuinely big smile formed upon her human looking mouth, brandishing a full set of pearly white teeth, including a couple of fangs, one on either side of the front two teeth.
Just as Ki'llan Xobe took a deep breath of her planet's fresh and clean air, she heard a voice behind her in the distance.
“Ki'llan Mey! Ki'llan Mey!” shouted the voice.
Ki'llan lowered her arms then spun on her heel to see a just as slender, male Xoasian hurrying towards her. Dressed in purple robes and golden plates around his waist, shoulders, and wrists, each one had a unique and specific number of characters or symbols on them. The markings of the Wise Messenger from what Ki'llan could see, as most of the symbols had a unique inward curve to them.
“Ki'llan Mey,” he Messenger said as he stopped a couple feet in front of her and bowed. Looking up at Ki'llan from under the bishop shaped headdress, that was the same gold and littered with symbols as the rest of the armor, he waited for her permission to speak.
“Yes, Messenger, what is it?” she asked curiously with lower left arm raised slightly, signalling for him to speak.
“You...,” began the Xoasian Messenger attempting to catch his breath at the same time, “Have been chosen to go... on... a journey on one of the human vessels. Your Bas'tra has given his permission to allow you off world... Mey.”
“Good, it's about time my Bas'tra allowed me to live,” said Ki'llan, smiling from ear-to-ear or whatever the gills on the side of her head were called. “Now I must go prepare for my journey, and Messenger.”
“Y-yes, Ki'llan Mey?” stuttered the robed and armored Xoasian, awaiting for what she would tell him next.
“When I got up to that floating city in the dark sky,” she paused for a moment, then continued, “Do not call me by Mey. And do not ask why.”
“Yes, of course, Ki'llan M-ehh... Ki'llan,” he winced, catching himself in the nick of time but cringing at the thought of having to stop using her honorific title. It was just something he'd have to get used to in public at least, but he thought might as well start now, as practice makes perfect. Hopefully he wouldn't slip down the road at some point, only to incite Ki'llan Xobe's wrath upon him.
“Good, now let's head back,” stated the female Xoasion in the skimpy armor and loin cloth as she walked passed tghe robed Messenger only to stop as a mild, bright flash shone in the sky above them. She cocked her head up towards the green hued and orange sky, to find an explosion peeking down through the clouds. Ki'llan knew where it was happening, where she looked was where the floating city was, Gamma Station One.
As they both watched the fire dissolve into nothingness, Ki'llan took a steap foward and with her mouth agape, said, “My Sh'a'ai....”
GS1: Galleria, Bob's Restaurant.
The main hub of entertainment, dining of all kinds and shopping on the station buzzed busily with officers with their families, civilians and alien traders alike. In fact in around this one restaurant it was quite crowded with people lined up all the way out of the door, waiting to place their orders for take out. Though inside most of large, gunmetal grey pick-nick tables were filled to the brim. Only a few of the smaller places remained vacant.
Sitting at one of them was a petite, Asian looking female Vulcan with shoulder-length, light brown hair and wearing a blue starfleet jacket. Across from her sat a rather large and blocky, gruff, orange skinned, bald male alien, in a yellow starfleet jacket. Both wore the Lieutenants pips, but he was in fact a Dalfian from the looks of the thick, grey quad spikes protruding from the back of his head and hands.
Lieutenants T'Lea and Ba'lon sat amongst the noise crowd in silence as they had their lunch and looked over status report PADDs, from their respective departments of Science and Operations.
Ba'lon was first to take a break from his 'light reading' and looked up his compatriot from under the large, rock like, uni-brow. Lifting his mug of the dark, slightly thick liquid he was drinking, he took a sip then placed it back down, thinking for a moment about if he should start a conversation. After a few moments Ba'lon just shook his head and picked up his PADD once more and bega to type with one of his three thick, stone fingers.
“Can I help you, Lieutenant?” T'Lea asked not looking away from her own PADD.
The brutish Dalfian was a little taken aback by her response, and hesitated as he was unsure how to respond. “No. Not really, Lieutenant,” Ba'lon finally answered, only glancing every so often to see her reaction.
It remained unchanged as she continued to read her PADD and took another sip of her tea from her steel, starfleet emblem mug. Then still without looking, she replied in a nonchalantly, “Then why did you look in my direction?”
“I don't know. I don't like long silences. They... disturb me greatly,” the Operations Officer answered, not looking at his fellow Science Officer.
“It is not quiet in here, Lieutenant. Not in the least,” she told him, “Silence is what I would prefer and may in fact seek after lunch.”
Ba'lon tried to find some way of getting out of this awkward moment, as he did not want to give his Vulcan compatriot the wrong idea. So he just let it out, “We're both going to be on a long term mission, far away from the Alpha Quadrant. Away from any kind of contact with our own people and from Starfleet Command. Doesn't it disturb you in the least, T'Lea?”
T'Lea raised her head and cocked an eyebrow. “Disturb? Not particularly. I find the prospect of being away from the familiar to be... intriguing, and quite refreshing. Change is a part of life. It is logical that things change.” She took another sip of her tea. “It is also natural for other emotionally driven species to feel a sense of loss and fear when change occurs in one's life. So, even though I do not experience how you feel-I do, however, understand where you're coming from, Lieutenant.”
The large, muscle bound Dalfian just grunted his acknowledgement with a hint of frustration behind it as well. Right after taking another sip of his own drink, he roughly grabbed up his PADD and begin to skim through the text again. Ba'lon tapped the back light on his PADD to increase the brightness due to the lower lighting conditions of the restaurant. Honestly he thought this place could of been lit better, but outside in the Galleria, it was brightly lit. Ba'lon wondered if it could of been an problem with the power relays, maybe he'd even give them an overhaul before leaving for his assignment. Whatever ship that ws going to be, he wasn't entirely sure. All he knew was that him and T'Lea were both set out on long term missions out into the unknown, unexplored parts of the Gamma Quadrant.
The Gamma Quadrant... the home of the Dominion. That battle for Cardassia Prime and many deaths on both sides. It was in the past and even know he had only read about the mission, thanking his lucky stars he wasn't ever sent on front line missions. But instead having a nice, quiet posting on a starbase for that time was a blessing to him. It was a part of their genetic makeup to be a bit worried a lot of the time and most of that time was over nothing. Though Ba'lon knew and understood that every species had their own set of quirks and issues, he wished that being so far from home and the familiar would stop bothering him so much.
He just knew he needed to calm himself down, and sadly his drink wasn't doing that. Neither was the atmosphere in this place. When looking over at his fellow officer, her emotionless, logical Vulcan exterior puzzled him to no end.
T'Lea could sense the young, Dalfian's uneasiness. She glanced up at him for a moment and hoped that he would settle down quickly. Taking a glance out into the hallway of the Galleria, she noticed another Officer in a blue uniform jacket, come out of the docking-ring gateway hatch. The female Vulcan science officer noticed he was rather pale, and the cold, icy-blue eyes that glanced in her direction from across the Galleria, made her feel uneasy herself. There was something indeed off about this individual. She believed. In fact T'Lea even considered on checking in the docking ring after lunch, just to see if there was something amiss. Certainly no one else emerged from that section, so if he was part of a transport arrival there should of been more then just him. Unless perhaps everyone else took a different exit.
“Curious....,” she murmured.
“What?” asked Ba'lon, noticing that the Vulcan Science Officer was focucing upon something else. Looking in the direction she was, he too noticed some pale, humanoid Officer walking off down into the crowded Galleria. “Do you know him?”
“No, I do not,” stated T'Lea, “I'm curious as to why he-and he alone, exited the docking ring hatch--if he were part of a compliment of new arrivals.”
“I don't know. Maybe he just wanted to avoid someone?”
Suddenly there came a rumbling, followed by several large booms and then everything began to shake as the booms continued, getting louder and closer. The docking ring hatch blew open sending a massive explosion and debris everywhere. Civilians and Officers were sent flying like rag dolls, explosive decompressing then sucked out a few of the people who were close by. T'Lea and Ba'lon were knocked over by the shockwave and rolled along the floor before slowly, inch-by-inch, the decompression began to drag them along. Quickly they grabbed a hold of a table that ws bolted to the floor, and held onto it for dear life.
After a few moments that seemed to last for an eternity, the force field activated and stopped anyone else from being sucked into the dark, cold, vacuum. The Vulcan and Dalfian officers finally let go of the table and helped one another up to their feet. A wave of shock and dismay continued to soar all over the Operations Officer while looking out at the damage across the Galleria.
T'Lea stood beside him, breathing just as heavily reeling from the sudden shock of nearly facing death. It wasn't something she was totally prepared for, even though it was logical to her that she would someday come face-to-face with her own mortality. She had no illusions that death could come at any time when out in the galaxy. It would be illogical to believe space was safe from harm, but that wasn't going to stop her from going out there to discover new life and civilizations. Not even this.
As they both stood by watching the fire suppression system kicking in, putting out the fires as fast as they could. The vents began sucking up the residual smoke that began to accumulate in the air, thickening it with carbon-dioxide. The two alien Officers gave each other a look then began to aid in getting people out of the debris.
“T'Lea, what about that guy you were looking at, he came out of here, didn't he?' asked Ba'lon lifting up a fallen beam off of a red jacketed officer.
She looked over at Ba'lon and quicly put two-and-two together. “You call the medics, I'll alert security.”
“Got it,” Ba'long said tapping his golden outlined, silver chevron comm-badge, “Medical teams to the Galleria, section thirty-four, B.”
T'Lea then tapped hers, “Security...”
GS1: Shooting Range.
The room was barely lit, but the lights that were there gave off enough illumination over the target drone. A single light shone down over it from high above it. Standing a few feet away being somewhat visible by the cascading light cone, stood a tall, athletic looking woman with short, dark hair. She's dressed in only black pants, and a grey tank top, with starfleet issue, black boots. A Bajoran from the ridges across the bridge of her nose would discern, if the unique, stringed, silver earing wasn't enough indication on her right ear.
Holding the butt of the chrome-plated Phaser rifle tightly against her shoulder, Lieutenant Tara Renn let out a deep breath. Breathing in deep once again she held it and waited for the drone to make a move—then quickly pulled the trigger. A thin, red bolt fired from the narrow, black and chrome lined tip of the barrel, sailing across the room like a speeding bullet and struck the target dead in the center. It absorbed the bolt and blinked, beeped and then disappeared into a bunch of tiny, glowing particles into nothingness. “100 Percent. Training Ended,” spoke the computer's familiar feminine voice.
Renn lowered her weapon and switched off the power cell as she walked over towards the open gun-rack in the armoury. Putting the weapon back on the rack, she closed it up and typed in the lock code. With a subtle, quiet hiss and the sound of clamps shutting, she knew the armoury was in fact locked from the inside out. Unless one knew the key, or had a photon grenade... no one was getting in there.
After taking a seat on a nearby bench the twenty-eight year old Bajoran, Tactical Officer, took off the boots and put on a brand new, shiner pair. The ones she had one during the training were just for that, this was to look presentable on the rest of the station. Honestly it annoyed her to no end, she'd of rather walked on out like she was, sweaty and dirty. There was no shame in it to her, after being in the Bajoran Militia against Cardassians and the like, being prettied up for everyone was the last thing on her mind. Sadly being part of Starfleet it wasn't going to be an option, at least not till she found a Commanding Officer who had some lax attitude about it.
Renn often wondered why she left the Militia to join up with these space hoping hippies, as she called them. But it was obvious why, in fact she remembered it just then, the promise of action and adventure out in the unknown. At least that's what she was told, and believed from the get go that was a load of bull. She told herself to listen to her gut more next time. After hearing about a posting available on board a ship that's set to go out into deep space, specifically the Gamma Quadrant, she figured maybe there was chance of some combat after all.
She put on her gold starfleet jacket that was complete, solid colour, except for the thin black line diagonally across the neck and down the right side, and the thicker one around the shoulders, holding two, solid gold, Lieutenant's pips. Quickly the female, Bajoran zipped it up and tucked it down a bit to straighten out any wrinkles there may have been. She stuffed her grey, starfleet duffle bag and swung it over her right shoulder before heading for the door.
Stopping at it, she gave one last look around and said, “Here's to adventure.” Then with a tap of a control button, the lights lowered until they were off. The doors whooshed open with a whisper, the light outside covered one side of her in shadow. Then as she left the doors slide closed and blackened out the entire shooting range.
Lieutenant Tara Renn briskly made her way around the curved, enclosed, beige and maroon corridor, lined with a thick black strip on either side. Computer interfaces she figured, but honestly she did not need to use them to find her way back. Knowing this station inside and out was one of the first things she did during her trip here and her first few days getting acquainted with everything. She even made sure to meet with Admiral Headly personally soon as she stepped off the transporter pad.
Suddenly the whole thing began to rumble and shake, the red alert lights blinked to life, and the claxon sounded throughout the corridor. Catching herself against the side of the wall, she pressed a hand against the computer interface, lighting it up with an array of buttons and readout screen. “Computer, waht the hell is going on?”
“An explosion occurred on Outer Docking Ring Pod Beta,” replied the computer in it's nonchalant, emotionless voice.
“Great...,” muttered Renn, annoyed and worried all at once. “How bad is it?”
“Extensive damage. -Warning. Debris incoming.”
“What??” Renn shouted letting go f the panel and made a made dash down the corridor, hoping to outrun the incoming pieces of debris whatever it might be.
Reaching a windowed section of the corridor, the Bajoran Tactical Officer froze in her tracks as she noticed something in the corner of her eye. Hesitantly, she turned to look and her eyes became wide with fear as she witnessed a large, burning piece of the docking ring flew and crashed into the corridor window!
|November 29 2013, 11:11 AM||#12|
Location: Another Galaxy. Canada.
Re: STAR TREK: PIONEER - Season One
|December 3 2013, 06:15 AM||#13|
Location: Another Galaxy. Canada.
Re: STAR TREK: PIONEER - Season One
"Strangers in a Strange Land"
Xoasys System: GAMMA STATION ONE Orbit.
A couple hours later...
Worker and Repair pods went to work on dislodging debris, mending what could be mended and even cleaning out the remaining dead bodies that were either fused or had been trapped in breached bulkheads. The whole section was littered with them, but not all of them were intact. Most of the crew wished these pods could of been controlled from remote instead of being manually operated. Most of them could keep it together, but for the few that didn't... a lot of sick bags were used up in those pods. Even the clean air recyclers couldn't get rid of the smell fast enough, although could anyone blame them? Who wants to remoe partially burned, torn apart or blown up bodies from scorched wreckage for hours?
A few smaller Federation vessels ranging from Centaur, to Steamrunner and even Akira class, followed by a larger Excelsior refit class starship warp in from out of distance, large flashes of light. Casually taking up positions around the station they begin taking up positions around the station in a geostationary orbit.
Only after what had happened, all ships inbound for Gamma Station One were sent a message to orbit the station and beam aboard, rather then dock with the other pods until the security matter was resolved.
GS1: Admiral Headly's Office.
Watching from her large window on the upper lounge area of her office, looking out towards the destroyed docking ring, stood the forty-eight year old Fleet Admiral with arms folded in front of her. She watched with a furrowed brow and looked on with an expression of concern washed over her face. Headly was already anxious about seeing Charles again after all these years and now, this had happened. Someone either planted a bomb or rigged the power relays to explode, or crashed into it with a ship full of cobalt explosives. Either way, that report would be coming in soon at least she hoped it would so that the next phase of the investigation could get started.
Already the lead Headly assumed they had was missing. That pale skinned, brown haired Officer in the blue uniform was gone, into hiding. Thankfully the transporter logs were checked and no one beamed off or taken a shuttle down since the lock down. But they could of been altered and it one person could cause this much damage, why wouldn't they be able to hack computer records on a transporter?
Admiral Amanda Headly felt even more crossed now, wondering why one of their own, if this person was in fact Starfleet, would do such a thing. Deep down the near middle-aged Admiral hoped that this in fact the work of another faction. That's all they need a internal investigation on her hands, and this mission to send out the newest, advanced ship out into the unknown was already enough stress. Even though Headly knew it was going to be commanded by someone she trusted and somehow still had a tiny ounce of it left in him.
Maybe it was the knowledge that her only child would be out there in the dangerous parts of unknown space too that was really bothering her. Heck it must of been really on her mind, otherwise she would of stopped herself from biting her thumbnail a lot sooner then she did. Finally catching herself, Amanda shook off the notion of concern as best she could and refocused on the current situation. The launch would have to wait to later, much later. At least until she and the rest of the command staff could figure out what was going on and put a stop to it.
Casualties lined the rows of single, grey and maroon padded medical beds. A little more then half were covered over by maroon sheets with the white, Federation of Planets logo in the center. The ones that were not covered, held those were not as badly injured. Unfortunately for them they had to be intermixed with those who were dead or dying due to lack of space in the morgue. Those who were not so badly hurt were taken care of by the on duty Nurses, while at the moment, only a few Doctor's were on duty, with one staying in the main infirmary in particular...
Doctor Susana Song felt her heart sink at the thought that the morgue had been filled to the brim already. The five-foot-seven physician with flowing, long, blond hair made her rounds, checking the bed monitors along the walls. PADD in hand, Doctor Song began to type in which patients to put on the deceased list to hand over to Admiral Headly later. It was taking everything she had to keep a level head and a straight face. She knew there would be days like this, just not this soon and not this fast but still, the twenty-nine year old, Australian physician continued to perform her duty as the chief medical officer on duty.
After finishing her rounds of bed checking, Susana came back to her small, windowed office space in the far end of the room. Walking around the black and brown lined desk, she slumped down into her chair. A rather normal sized, blue but comfortably cushioned chair at least, where you could put your feet up and relax on a lazy day. Just not this one. Susana just knew she needed to be alone for a moment and gather he thoughts and composure before heading back out there into the fray of death, and the barely alive.
With a deep breath, Doctor Song leaned back in her comfy chair and pulled her dark, blue lab coat around her even tighter. Then she shut her eyes slowly and attempted to push everything out of her mind, to think of nothing at all for the next five minutes.
Then suddenly there came a knock outside her office that awoke her with a start. Looking up towards the open doorway of her office cubical, she noticed a middle-aged, dark haired man in a red starfleet uniform jacket.
“Yes, can I help you?” she asked, quickly straightening up in her seat as she gathered up her PADDs, piled and cluttered upon her desk.
“Doctor Song, I'm Captain Gibson,” he said, then pointed to one of the empty, smaller, grey cushioned chairs, “May I?”
“Please,” she answered with a nod to the chair.
“Thanks,” Charles said while sitting down. He honestly didn't like being in the Doctor's office, even though this wasn't for a check up or anything of that nature. He still felt a little uncomfortable, but hoped he was hiding his uneasiness well enough.
“So what can I help you with, Captain?” asked Susana, placing her PADD down upon the rest of hte clutter, folding her hands on top of it.
“I'm here to let know you that you'll be part of my medical staff, as one of the chief medical officers aboard my ship after this investigation is over,” stated Charles in a calm and collected, easy going manner.
“I was told my transfer request was put through, wasn't expecting the Captain to show up to let me know in person though,” Susana said a little surprised, “Wait... I'd be one of the Chief Medical officers?”
“It's a big ship,” said Captain Gibson with a hint of a smile a bit of a chuckle in his voice.
“So I've been told. I've seen the diagrams but they hardly do it justice compared to seeing the vessel itself, in person,” he added, and then looked off as if through the young Doctor as he continued to verbalize his thoughts. “There's no feeling like that that compares to seeing that ship that you can call your own. It's like meeting that special someone you know... you'll have a long connection with. Will stay with through thick and thin.”
Susana just grinned while holding back a small chuckle, “I see. I suppose, just like me and most other professionals. We're married to our work just like Captains are married to their ships so-to-speak.”
“You could say that,” Charles said, nodding as he brought himself back to reality, adjusting himself in the chair, “Comes with the life in the service. So how are you holding up?”
With a sigh, Susana wasn't sure how to answer that, then leaned back in her chair once more shoving her hands into the pockets of her long, dark blue lab coat. “I don't really down... I mean I know this comes with the life of a Starfleet Officer. And as a doctor you're bound to lose patients but...”
“You just never thought it would of happened quite like this?”
“No. Not from a bombing,” said Doctor Song solemnly, slightly shaking her head 'no'.
“We're not totally convinced it was a bomb. But we do have people looking into it. The possibility is still there though.” stated Charles, heavily sighing trying to figure out what to say next. Sadly nothing had come to his mind, nothing would make it any better at least. “I wish I could tell you it was an accident... but, it is very possible it was deliberate. And like you... it does scare the hell out of me. But we can't let it control our lives. We can't live in fear. Otherwise...,” he stopped and thought about what he just said for a moment as a realization came over him, “we're not living at all.”
Susana nodded, and she understood that he knew how she was feeling, but when he said that part of her had a gut feeling there was more behind his answer then he was letting on. “I understand, Captain Gibson.” With that she leaned back in her chair and began to stand, “If I can be of any assistance, let me know, sir. For now I will be finishing up my duties till the day night shift comes in... then it's off to packing my things.”
She offered a genuine smile that Gibson returned as he stood and they shook hands.
“Welcome aboard,” he said.
“Thank you, Captain,” replied Doctor Song in her elegant, Australian accent.
GS1: Outside Docking-Ring Pod Beta.
Ba'lon felt weightless as he floated along through the debris field made from the explosion, with only a few inches of fabric, plasteel and transparent aluminium. He wasn't sure what he loathed more, the tiny space between him and oblivion or the feeling of a being in such a confining space. Alas the Dalfian wasn't one of those species who didn't need air, nor could breathe in space.
The only sound he could hear was the sound of his own breathing inside his helmet. So decided to try and focus on that, to keep his mind off of everything else that was distracting, other then his duties. Zero-G training was never his strong suit, and apparently it was problem for other Dalfians too, not just him. That did kind of give him some comfort that he wasn't alone. At least out here, hanging upside down in a field od debris and damaged bodies, he was certainly not alone. Other Starfleet Officers floated on jet packs along with him. Each in their own, grey-white space suit, lined with their division colors, and with the unique, Starfleet helmet and computer screens on their left or right forearms and legs.
Raising his tricorder up to the section he was scanning, Ba'lon typed into it as best as he could with those thick gloves covering his thick, stone-like fingers. He looked at the read the following read outs and wasn't sure if he was reading it right, so he did another scan. Ba'lon furrowed his uni-brow, then gently pushed off a beam that was sticking out at him to go up to the next level, instead of firing the thruster-pack when he didn't need to. “What the...?”
“What is it Lieutenant?” asked T'Lea, the Vulcan Science Officer floating down beside Ba'lon, gently holding onto the beam he just used to lift himself up.
“If I'm reading this right... our pasty friend overloaded the main power relay, and bypassed the sensor grid... by tapping in through the secondary maintenance diagnostic subroutine module....”
“He seems to have great knowledge of our systems,” stated the Female Vulcan Officer as she double checked with her tricorder. She then tapped her com-button, “Lieutenant T'Lea to Admiral Radcliffe.”
“Radcliffe, go ahead” came Gary's voice through the inner helmet speaker.
“Admiral, we have determined how the saboteur has managed to destroy the Docking Pod. I'm sending you the file as we speak over the d-link transfer beam. I recommend sealing off all Jefferies Tubes to the other pods as a starting precaution, sir,” T'Lea said, typing in the commands to send the information over the d-link beam via her tricorder.
Ba'lon hit his com-button as well and joined in on the conversation, “Admiral, Lieutenant Ba'lon here. Recommend placing secuirty at every junction point and panel that'd give him access to the main power systems and conduit relays. The Mug'tat may try to go after something a lot bigger then the pod next time if given the chance, sir.”
“Like the C.N.C....,” mentioned Gary, sombrely, “Wouldn't discount it as a possible target.” The Admiral paused for a moment, then continued, “Lieutenant T'Lea.”
“I want you to go to the C.N.C. Get on the scanners and see waht you can find... maybe if he's accessing a conduit or relay panel, we can at least know ahead of time. Maybe even find out if there are any life forms around a area with a power relay panel at least.”
“Could work, Admiral,” interrupted Ba'lon, “He'd have to be alone in order to do this kind of tampering.”
The two Lieutenants gave one another a look and then waited for the Admiral's reply.
“Maybe. Still, it's a good lead until Security can locate him. Just hope he isn't a shape changer... anyways, Radcliffe out.”
Ba'long and T'Lea gave each other another look and a subtle nod as the petite Vulcan floated on up after activating her thruster pack, leaving Ba'lon to continue alone. Honestly he felt right back to where he started on this assignment. Focusing on the breathing once more, he forced himself to calm his nerves down, then continued on with his work.
GS1: Jefferies Tube 47.
Smoke filled Lieutenant Tara Renn's nostrils and intense heat came at her from the rear while she lied on the metal grating of the Jefferies Tube. Forcing her eyes open into the very dark, but dimly lit tube she looked around. Taking in a deep breath, the twenty-eight year old Tactical Officer felt a sharp pain and began to hack and cough. How long had she been unconscious for, she wondered, as her lungs were obviously filled with smoke from the feel of it. Right now she wasn't sure if managing to jump into the Jefferies tube just before that huge chunk of debris collided with the corridor window.
A moment later she swore she heard the sound of air seeing out. That's all she needed, an hull breach to make things worse. Unfortunately checking for one was not something she could do from this position, but sadly neither was turning around.
Forcing herself up to her hands and knees, she started to shuffle along, dragging her duffel bag along with her. Gripping the strap she felt it tug on her and then noticed the sharp pain on her side, a couple ribs must of been broken... well it was better then losing her life. Renn just prayed that there wasn't any internal bleeding at the very least. Adjusting the bag to relieve the pressure on her injured side, the Bajoran Tactical Officer continued on her way through the Jefferies tube.
Scratched, battered and bleeding a little from the cuts she could see on her hands and knees, the young woman gritted her teeth and fought through the pain. Somehow using it to her advantage to keep herself awake, to push onward and to not stop. Thanking her lucky stars about memorizing the station inside and out yet again. If she could reach the junction there could very well be a chance for her to reach the Jefferies tube to the medical level, maybe. The smoke must of been getting thicker, or the blood loss was greater then she thought. Although a concussion was probably the safer bet, the cause of memory problems at the moment.
“Come on Lieutenant, pull yourself together. You can make it!” Renn encouraged herself ove rand over, quietly, through her teeth.
The flickering lights certainly were not helping much with her already, smokey and slightly blurry vision. Every couple of shuffles she felt ahead of her with her hands as best she could to make sure there was nothing in the way. Doing so she cursed under her breath as she felt this was slowing her down, but all she needed was to crawl into something hot, sharp, or possibly both.
Finally reaching the end of the tube, the battered Bajoran eased her way out into the junction, planting a foot down upon the tritanium hatch on the floor, at a time. Making sure there was no dizziness and that she could manage to stand, Renn stood up slowly in the center of the junction. Pulling down the lever on the side of the wall she just came out of, made the pressure door close tight. It took a few pulls to get it to fully cooperate.
Tara Renn then slumped to the floor on her behind, knees propped up to her chest a little. It was still ahrd to breath, that sharp pain wasn't fully gone, but it was manageable for the most part. Just rather annoying though. The air wasn't that much better in the junction, so she assumed the damage must of been quite extensive. For a while she stayed there, curled up on the unction floor, rubbing her forehead, hoping that splitting headache she was starting to feel sink it, would go away in time.
Reaching into her duffel bag, Renn pulled out her triorder and opened it up to scan the adjacent tubes around her. There had to be a way out and one of them had to be it, or at least a starting point to safety. She was more then ever, determined not to give up, since she never did before... so why would she start now?
GS1: Storage Compartment 22.
Huddled and crouched, the pale skinned, dark haired man in the blue Science uniform worked away. Changing out parts, adjusting them with tools that lit up with different colored lights, depending on which device he was using. Each unique tool modifying the internal equipment and circuitry of a meter long, grey tube with black accents all over it, a torpedo.
On the floor next to him was the phaser he had taken from the Security Officer he had killed hour earlier. The casing removed and the inner-workings splayed beside him on the cold, gun-metal grey, tritanium floor. It was his next project after getting ahead on the current one, it was only a matter of time before they began a whole station search through every nook and cranny.
A mistake on his part to be sure, leaving the docking ring pod through a main corridor. Some part of them figured he had panicked and took the fastest route possible out of there, before anyone could stumble across him, or the security officer he had wired up to the power conduit relay. Unfortunately two Officers had spotted him leaving that corridor. Because of them he'd have to modify the plans now, eliminating them would be a sub-priority if he were able to commence the the last part of this operation.
Placing the micro-field jammer down, the pale Lieutenant took off his jacket and reached for a laser scalpel. Suddenly he though he heard something and froze, then waited for whoever or whatever it was to come in. He did not fear, his blood pressure did not rise, neither did his heart begin to beat faster. No matter who it may be, he knew that he'd be able to attack it and take it out in no time flat. There was no cause for concern just yet so the young, dark hair, icy-eyed man switched the laser scalpel on. From the tip came a two inch, red cone of heated energy with a white core in the center.
Giving his surroundings a once over, the pale Lieutenant Science Officer started to burn into his arm, making an incision along his wrist, cauterizing the edges as he went along, eerily reflecting the flame red light in his cold, dark eyes.
|December 10 2013, 08:20 AM||#14|
Location: Another Galaxy. Canada.
Re: STAR TREK: PIONEER - Season One
So don't worry, this is still not forgotten. Hang in there my Pioneer readers! (If there is any out there. XD)
|December 10 2013, 03:19 PM||#15|
Even the best story will be made to look amateurish with errors such as these and detract from the overall experience - and that's not to say my own pieces have the occasional errors, I'm almost certain they do, but I feel it's important not to have too many if you know what I mean. Aim high!
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