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Project: Requiem

nx1701g

Admiral
Admiral
Earth – the home of the Federation – was perhaps the most important world in the galaxy. The homeworld of Humanity, the spinning blue orb of mostly water had gathered a diverse collection of species all working together for a common goal. For many to visit the planet Earth had been a dream, for others it had been a very distinctive ambition. It was, after all, perhaps the most important world in the galaxy and that was a drive all in itself to embrace its wonders.


For most people at least. For others, like the Risan woman known only as Cyn, it had been her lot in life that she’d ended up here. Cyn had been a very successful businesswoman on her homeworld of Risa and had amassed a personal wealth that was impressive for such an unassuming woman. Most people had underestimated her as just another pretty face and she’d used that to her advantage over the years. It was her attributes that had made her so appealing. Her skin was the color of coffee and her eyes reminded most of delectable chocolate just waiting to be unwrapped. She’d always been told that her smile could power a Warp Core and that her hair, with its fiery streaks of crimson, could heat the coldest of hearts. The problem was that her heart was coldest of them all. Using all her untamed benefits she grew in power, slowly taking over as an underworld Empress on her world.


Then the Orion Syndicate came. Apparently drawing too much wealth and strength on a world that they considered theirs was a bit of a no no. Things could’ve gone very badly for her, but, for some reason, the Syndicate decided to spare her by letting her keep her life. They ransacked her Club – the famous Cyndrome in Suraya Bay – and stole most of her personal fortune. Then they gave her an ultimatum: she would help them as a silent partner in an attack on a Federation official, or she would be exiled from her world. Not much of what happened next was known to her. She knew that she’d agreed to their terms and helped them against the official, but he was far from helpless. Instead he got the upper hand on both her and the Syndicate, taking them down and ordering her memories wiped.


Now she was here: trapped aboard Metropolis Station and running the latest iteration of her Cyndrome. It was nothing like she wanted. The Federation believed in a free economy where there was no money to be made. Worse still the people who came and went to her club were idealists, much more interested in the benefits to the galaxy than benefiting her. It was a nightmare.


She sighed as she looked around the bar hoping to at least illicit some sort of reaction or spot something that excited her. She didn’t hold much hope though. She’d at least had some fun since coming here, but even that was few and far between. It was just another day at the office though. Patrons sat around her spattering of tables drinking her watered down drinks. A few people gazed through the windows at the Earth below and the San Francisco Fleet Yard that Metropolis oversaw – pointing out sights as the station slowly orbited the Earth.


Then she saw him. Seated at what many considered the best seat in the house at this time of the night was a man, Human by the looks of him, staring at his drink and not the window. He was a tall man with hair the color of space and a beard of about two days growth covering his jaw. His clothes were ornate. The shirt and jacket were made of Tholian silk and his pants were perfectly clinging to his body. Being in the business she could tell that he was a man who took care of himself. He wasn’t muscular but he wasn’t overweight either. He’d make a nice diversion for an hour or two.


Cyn walked over to him, her emerald dress shimmering as she approached in the light. “She break your heart?” The Risan asked the man as he looked at the sapphire colored drink.


The man broke free from his spell, but didn’t look at her, “Something like that.” He took another sip from it, “Can I have another?”


She motioned for the waiter – a Bolian – who came running, “I thought that I’d come over to help you get over your broken heart.” She looked at the alien, “Bring him another, and I’ll have one too.”


He ran off to accommodate and Cyn pulled up a chair. She slinked down into the chair, using every skill she’d ever learned of seduction to garner the man’s attention. “My name’s Cyn and I’m the owner of this establishment. Now who might you be? You look awfully familiar.” It wasn’t entirely a pickup line. There was something about him that she couldn’t put her finger on.


“A patron,” he answered at the waiter brought him the replacement. He downed the drink in one swift swig.


“Take it easy tiger,” she said resting her hand atop his forearm, “we have all night to get acquainted.”


The Human pushed the drink forward, “I’m afraid I don’t have that much time. I have a lot to do.”


“Well let me be a nice distraction for at least an hour.” She looked at her own drink, “Doesn’t Human chivalry make you compelled to at least share a drink with me? To wait until I’ve had a chance to at least enjoy my drink before you go running off?”


“I’m not Human,” he quipped.


She grinned, “What a coincidence! Neither am I! I’m a Risan – and I’m a very bad one. How about you?”


“I’m not a Risan,” the man answered finally looking at her, “but I’m a very bad one too.”


She looked into his dark eyes, “Look at that! Another thing we have in common. How amazing. Should we try for three?” Cyn motioned toward the window, “How about the view? You know a lot of people think that this is the best view in the house.”


“Let me guess,” her target interrupted, “not your favorite though.”


“You’d be right,” she leaned back in the chair and brushed her foot against the man’s leg. “There’s just something about staring down at the Earth that puts chills in me and not in a good way. I still don’t get people’s fascination with it. Hell, we have people from the Delta Quadrant that want to visit it desperately even. I’d rather be anywhere else. How about you?”


“I love the Earth. It’s the ship in the middle that’s brought me a lot of pain,” he answered as he finished his drink.


Cyn peered out the window and searched through the ships that were gathered there. San Francisco Yards was one of the largest in the Federation and dozens of ships were being actively worked on there. Actually, from what she could tell, most of the ships here were still under fresh construction. How could one of them have gotten on this handsome stranger’s bad side?


“You’re not planning to blow it up are you?”


The man let out a deep belly laugh, “Not at all. Too much paperwork.”


“All these ships are new,” she challenged him. “What could they have possibly done to make you all broody?”


“Not all are new,” he pointed up at one in the distance. “That’s the ship I have the problem with.”


Cyn leaned over toward the window, squinting into the distance to try to make out the ship. There was one that wasn’t new out there and, of all the ships in the vastness of space, he had problems with the Enterprise.


Not that she was surprised there were people out there who would. The Enterprise had been in service for over 16 years and had served as Federation Flagship for almost that entire time. She was at the shipyard because of major damage that she’d experienced during her last mission where she came under attack by a hijacked Starfleet ship. An Admiral and his wife had been killed in the process, a Cardassian outpost destroyed, and the Enterprise severely damaged. That was the rumor though, but the relationship between the Federation and the Cardassians was still strained.


“Enterprise to the Admiral.”


Cyn’s eyes got to be the size of saucers with the interruption, “the Enterprise?”


The man, an Admiral no less, reached under his coat and pulled a Starfleet Communicator from beneath it. “What is it Ziva?”


“Admiral, Engineering reports that the Warp Core is ready to be brought back online,” the cold voice of a Vulcan answered.


The Admiral slumped into his chair, “Very well. Prepare to bring me back aboard, Commander.”


“Aye Sir.”


The channel closed as the patron pushed his empty glass forward on the table, “Thanks for the drink.”


“Do I at least get to know your name?” Cyn asked as he walked toward the door.


“The Admiral,” he answered as he stepped through the open door and joined the crowds in the station’s promenade.
 
“Chief, this is a breach of multiple safety protocols.”


Lieutenant Commander Noah Smythe had lost count of the number of times he’d been told that very same phrase since assuming responsibility for the refit, but it was no less jarring no matter how many times he’d heard it. When the Corps of Engineers had picked him to be the lead engineer for the repairs to Enterprise it had been a dream come true. Ever since he was told that, due to Starfleet’s stringent new protocols, the majority of his team would be Emergency Engineering Holograms this dream had turned into a nightmare.


“I understand that it’s a breach of the safety protocol!” The Chief Engineer protested from his workstation. “That doesn’t alter the fact that we have to do it this way!”


The holographic engineer seemed to be taken off guard by the defense. His simulated face slightly twitched as he was receiving new data from the Engineering computers overseeing his artificial intelligence. It was unnerving in more than one way to watch. Smythe actually hoped that he’d start to see flames or at least smoke come from its head.


“Perhaps you and I can discuss the safety protocols in order to complete your support request?”


Chief Smythe actually laughed at that one. “I don’t think so; unless we could discuss programming some originality and out of the box thinking into your matrix?”


“If my services do not meet your standards, Chief Smythe, I would be more than happy to log your complaint.”


The Engineer had actually lost interest in the conversation at this point and was accessing the manual controls for the intermix ratio. “Go ahead,” he said absently trying to get passed the Engineering overrides that the AI was using.


“Your failed support request has been logged,” the hologram stated in an overly robotic voice. “Support ticket removed from quene. Is there anything else that I may assist you with today?”


“Not in the slightest,” Smythe finally broke the AI’s encryption lock and began his changes to the start up routine.


“Good day,” the hologram said before working off to inspect another workstation.


Noah sighed as he looked over his shoulder at the departing hologram. They had a lot of nerve making him work with those damned things. It was true that they had sped up the time table for the repairs by nearly a full year when they were brought online, but there was something to be said about their lack of originality or tact. That wasn’t their fault though – it was merely part of their programming.


The Emergency Engineering Hologram was designed to be an innocuous addition to the engineering team. They were basic holograms with little in the way of personality, appearance, or individuality. When they were designed it was intentional that they be made this way. An Emergency Medical Hologram was distinctive and looked like it could be a real person because that put patients at ease. No one could confuse an Engineering Hologram for a person. For some that was a good thing, but they could definitely use the addition of some out of the box thinking protocols. Not that they thought for themselves though. Their AI was all routed to a specialized computer core that had been installed aboard the ship for the refit. Every single EEH was controlled by that one central brain.


Unfortunately that brain also had access to all the other control systems aboard the ship and could ensure that you weren’t breaking the rules.


“Engineering, please report,” the disembodied voice of their Executive Officer pierced through the room.


Smythe sighed as he reached for his communicator, “Chief Engineer Smythe here, Commander. What’s up?”


“You reported to me that you were ready to bring the Warp Core back online in fifteen minutes. It is now sixteen minutes. What is the delay?”


Noah didn’t say anything for a second or two as he tried to maintain his composure. If there was one thing that he couldn’t stand any more than the holograms it was their First Officer. Commander Ziva was one of the most Vulcan Vulcans that he’d ever met in his life. Not even his Vulcan roommate at the Academy had been as bad as her. At least Suyan had an offbeat sense of humor. Ziva had none of the above.


“I’m sorry, Commander, but I ran into a few problems with the Engineering Holograms disregarding my directions.” He was typing as he spoke, bringing the intermix ratios into their proper alignments, “We should be ready in about two minutes.”


“What was the nature of the issue, Chief?”


It really was like talking to the damn holograms. “One of the holograms had a concern about the safety protocols. I’ve overridden and I’m engaging the Core startup now.”


“Lieutenant Commander if one of the holograms has an issue with the safety protocols being overridden we should listen to its objection. The protocols are in place for a reason,” her voice was almost as robotic. “Is there a risk to the vessel if we do not follow the protocols as they have been written?”


“We’re in space! There’s always risk!” He said flabbergasted that he’d been delayed again. “Commander, with respect, your background is in the sciences and mine is in engineering. I know what I’m doing and I know how to make sure that this ship doesn’t blow up during its start up routine. The Admiral wants us under our own power. Do you want me to tell him that we’re being delayed because of your questioning my capabilities?”


Ziva gave a similar delay to the one he’d just had. “Proceed, Chief Engineer.”


“I already did,” he answered as he pressed the activation key on his workstation. The truth was that they were at a lot of risk with this start up routine – more than perhaps with any other vessel. The modifications that had been made to the Enterprise by her former engineers were not exactly up to Starfleet’s specifications, but they worked before so he had no doubt in his mind that they’d work again.


The brightly lit Engine Room of the Enterprise was immediately awash in the beautiful red and blue light of the Warp Core. He glanced down at the workstation’s central monitor and a visual of the Core appeared upon it. The diagrams confirmed his exact hopes. The matter and antimatter reaction was going off without a hitch. It worked.


“Commander,” he said with pride in his Australian brogue, “Warp Core is online.”


Now he only hoped that the Admiral would be happy with him, because he was sure that their Vulcan XO wanted nothing more than to see him sent anywhere else.
 
Hey @nx1701g I'm new here, and you're an Admiral :eek: so I don't know exactly what's cool here and what's not.

Are you up for a couple of constructive suggestions on this writing? Yes, that means criticism, but it would be framed as genuine attempts to help - and they would be just suggestions, so you can feel perfectly free to ignore them if you disagree. We can do it by pm if you prefer.
 
Hey @nx1701g I'm new here, and you're an Admiral :eek: so I don't know exactly what's cool here and what's not.

Are you up for a couple of constructive suggestions on this writing? Yes, that means criticism, but it would be framed as genuine attempts to help - and they would be just suggestions, so you can feel perfectly free to ignore them if you disagree. We can do it by pm if you prefer.

Feel free to post any suggestions that you may have. Nothing is beyond improvement.

And ignore the Admiral title... it just means I used to have a lot more free time on my hands than I do now. :-)
 
@nx1701g PM'd you. Didn't want to divert the thread.

Kuri, I didn't want to make you think that I was ignoring your comments. I haven't been online these last two nights (my wife and I just had twins a few months ago) and my online time was impacted the last few nights.

I'll be replying to you soon - hopefully tomorrow - and thanks for the comments. Other comments are also welcome. I'm always eager for ways to improve.
 
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No problemo - and congratulations! Best wishes for your wife and little ones. Take it from me, you'll never sleep properly again.:bolian:
 
Planning on getting any help with this story?

Hi Summer,

At the moment I think that I'm going to keep this a solitary affair, but you never know what tomorrow may hold.

Excellent, I loved the characterization and scene setting. Keep up the good work!

Thanks Summer.

I'm hoping to work on another part this weekend. Based on a couple of recommendations that have been given the next chapter will be a little different. I hope everyone enjoys it!
 
“Can I tell you a secret, Lieutenant?”


From the Operations workstation Andorian Lieutenant Geri zh’Aald glanced up from her readouts for a second to look at the Benzite Helmsman. Really she didn’t have time for any diversions right now, but she hadn’t gotten a chance to get to know their new pilot since he came aboard. She was a little surprised about it, a fact her antennae betrayed, but she wouldn’t put him out, “I’m all ears.”


“I’ve been offered a position as Operations Manager on the Shi’Kahr,” said the alien as he took a breath from the rebreather he wore on his chest.


Geri wasn’t too happy to hear about this development. Since Starfleet reorganized a year ago Flight Control was moved under the umbrella of the Operations Division, making this her problem in the long run. Losing another officer as quickly as this wasn’t going to look good for her - especially with Ziva breathing down her neck already.


The Operations Manager typed on her workstation keyboard as she spoke, “The Shi’Kahr? That’s a Defiant Class ship isn’t it?”


“Yeah,” he answered. “Not a really common sight in the galaxy these days which makes her all the more unique.”


“So is the Enterprise,” she pointed out.


Tola nodded as he took another breath, “That’s true too, but it’s not like we’re doing much to test my skills anymore. Since I came aboard all I’ve been doing is coordinating shuttles and workbees coming to and fro. I need some challenge in my life, some adventure… instead all I’ve done is watch 2,425 ships come and go.”


“At least you caught up to the year,” she teased as she cleared a new fuel consumption report. “But you have an amazing opportunity here that you can’t forget about either. This is the Federation’s Flagship and you can bet your bottom credit we’re going to be exploring strange new worlds again in no time. This is just a momentary lull.” Was she telling him this to get him to stay or to save herself from having to interview a replacement was the real question.


“That’s quite the Starfleet pep talk,” the Benzite replied with a smile. “The Enterprise is an amazing ship, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not sure I want to wait a year to head back out there. I just want some action.”


From the Captain’s Chair in the center of the Bridge the monotone voice of their Executive Officer provided some. Without a missed beat she asked, “Perhaps you can be provided some action if I order your transfer off of this ship for dereliction of duty?”


The Helmsman instantly turned, “I’m sorry, Commander, it won’t happen again.”


It was a sentiment that Lieutenant zh’Aald shared, “I apologize as well. We were discussing career assignments and…”


“I understand that you are Mister Tola’s direct superior, Lieutenant zh’Aald; nevertheless, such discussions are inappropriate on the Bridge of a Starship. If others were to overhear it could be seen as a violation of Lieutenant Tola’s rights.”


Lieutenant zh’Aald wanted to be anywhere but right here at the moment. She and Ziva had never really seen eye to eye about much of anything and this just added to it. It wasn’t like the Bridge of the Enterprise wasn’t private at the moment. The command center of the ship was outfitted with 27 separate workstations and of them only six people were in the entire room – including Ziva, zh’Aald, and Tola themselves. Up until now none of the others had even feigned a remote interest in their discussion. Now she could see they were pretending not to listen. She silently prayed for something to change the subject.


“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” she looked at the Vulcan then the Benzite at the helm. “It won’t happen again.” The silent message between her and the Helmsman gave her tactic support because she was going to take it if he didn’t.


“I am certain of that,” Ziva answered.


A series of rapid beeps interrupted them. The Ops Manager wanted to curse the computer for being so late, but knew she was in deep enough water as it was. Opening the transceiver assembly she saw a message for the Commander. Debating deleting it she decided against it. “Commander, incoming transmission for you from the Vulcan Embassy.”


Ziva’s eyebrow rose absently, “Curious. Please display on main viewer.”


An alert popped up on her display, “I’m sorry, Commander, but it’s identified as personal and confidential. Do you want to take it in the Ready Room?”


“Negative,” she said approaching the Captain’s Chair. “I will take my message here. Please get me an updated status from Mister Smythe.”


“Aye,” she answered burying herself back in her work.


As she was working, and Ziva was occupied, Tola whispered, “I’m so sorry.”


Geri shrugged it off, “My mistake. Not yours. Let’s just leave it at…”


They were interrupted by Ziva a second time. Ready for her dressing down, zh’Aald’s blue blood was ready to ignite into a firestorm of anger if she said the wrong thing. Instead the Commander’s words took her completely aback.


“Lieutenant zh’Aald,” Ziva said with crisp formality, “I hereby transfer command to you until the Admiral returns to the Bridge and request permission to disembark.”


Tola took a deep, gulping breath. Before he could stop himself he blurted out, “Is something wrong?”


“I have made my formal request to the Acting Captain of this vessel, Lieutenant,” she continued her emotionless tirade of protocol. “I expect an answer.”


The Andorian looked up from her seat at the First Officer standing above her, “Commander, surely if something is wrong we can help you. You don’t have to leave the ship.”


“I must,” she answered directly. “Again I request permission to disembark.”


A series of rapid beeps distracted her away from the Commander to her terminal. She wanted to check them, to get out of this quagmire, but this required her direct attention. Even as more alerts came through she wanted to pass this on. “Let’s get the Admiral’s input.”


“The Admiral’s views are unneeded, Lieutenant,” Ziva interjected with what sounded like annoyance in her words. “You are currently in command. It is your choice.”


“No,” she said with finality. “You are the Executive Officer of this ship and my superior. You are needed here. The Admiral will grant your request since it’s that important to you, I’m sure of it, but I can’t authorize you to leave. Not while you’re a member of Starfleet.”


There was a pause from their Commander as she processed the statements made. The woman reached up to her communicator patch and examined it with her forefinger for a moment, but only for a moment. She ripped it from her chest, “I hereby rescind my service to the Federation.”


“You can’t be serious!” The Benzite helmsman yelled in disbelief. Behind them the remaining personnel on the Bridge had gotten pulled into the fray. None of them were pretending to work anymore, they were staring dumbfounded.


“I am Vulcan, Lieutenant,” she said in cold monotone, “therefore I am always serious.”


Geri sighed, “If it’s this important to you then fine. Request granted.”


Ziva nodded her head graciously, “Thank you, Lieutenant.” She walked to the port side turbolift and turned back to regard the entire bridge. She spoke plainly, “It has been an honor serving with you.” She retreated behind the closing doors.


Lieutenant Mu, the Security Officer on duty, looked back and forth between the door and the officers in the center of the bridge. “What the Hell was that?”


“I honestly don’t know,” zh’Aald answered in complete honesty as she slumped in her chair at Ops. “But something that important to her, important enough that she’d throw everything away, that’s scarier than Hell.”


Tola scrolled through the messages on his Flight Control terminal, “Whatever it is going on it’s happening throughout the ship. Chief Smythe just reported that one of his Engineers, a Vulcan named Tutok, just walked off the job.”


Before anything else could be said the computer interrupted them. The bridge of the ship was awash in a crimson red light that bathed the entire room in near darkness. The computer’s voice echoed throughout the chamber, “This is a Starfleet wide Red Alert. All vessels to Battle Stations.”


“How can we have a Red Alert in Drydock?” The Benzite asked frantic.


The Ops Manager typed on her workstation, finally getting a chance to pick through the frantic alerts from her confrontation with the XO. 47 more messages had arrived in that brief time. All of the messages were addressed to Vulcan crewmembers with the same criteria as the one that their XO had received. Since then each Supervisor from those departments had sent a message along as well, asking her for guidance because they were all asking for the same thing. Every Vulcan had asked to leave the ship.


A new message arrived at that point addressed for the eyes of the Commanding Officer of the ship. With the Admiral not yet arrived back aboard Ziva had been Acting Captain. Now that right was hers by Ziva’s resignation. Moving her ice blue fingers toward the glowing indicator she plunged her finger upon it. It felt, oddly, like releasing the gates of Hell.


“Oh my God,” she said reading the message. She jumped from her chair, knocking it to the deck in the process.


Mister Mu looked up at her from his seat in the well, “Ma’am? What’s going on?” The Bajoran asked bright eyed.


“Amira, signal all personnel to return to the ship immediately and find me the Admiral,” she demanded as she approached the Captain’s Chair. “He’s the Captain of this ship, this is his responsibility.”


“What is?” Tola asked with fear in his voice.


Geri zh’Aald had never been able to hide her emotions – her antennae always seemed to give her away – and this time was no different. Standing as tall, as courageously as she could she told them about the Hell that had befallen them.


“The Confederacy of Vulcan has just pledged fealty to the Romulan Star Empire.”
 
Oy, yer not stirrin up a hornets nest or anything, are ya? LOL good job. Is this going to affect anything in the continuing voyages universe?? I've a vulcan...
 
To clarify a little (for some reason it won't let me edit the above post) I used to lead a long running writing group - active for over 15 years - but I have since retired from it.

This writing project is independent of that.
 
After a lot of thought I think I'm going to leave the story at that. I may revisit it in the future though.
 
I have decided I'm going to revise this story and restart it from the beginning for the 50th anniversary.

I think, however, I may open a new thread on this topic though to discuss it from the beginning including the characters and general environment.

Anyone interested?
 
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