Burning Ring of Fire
- Thread starter BrotherBenny
- Start date
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 1
The outsider's perspective is always a fun one to use and run with. Jenak appears to be a most interesting and I would imagine colorful, addition to the Dauntless's crew.
The outsider's perspective is always a fun one to use and run with. Jenak appears to be a most interesting and I would imagine colorful, addition to the Dauntless's crew.
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 1
Central Archives
Ynelav IV
Stardate 57334.1
The sunlight barely penetrated the darkened windows of the cavernous archives and this made Lieutenant Commander Kareni Renn more than a little anxious as her native homeworld was blazing with two suns for more than nine tenths of the year. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness easily enough, a side effect of spending most of her adult life aboard starbases and starships, and she strolled slowly down the rows of preserved scrolls looking for the markings that denoted the war archives. The tricorder and padd she carried had both been programmed with a limited translation matrix of the five thousand most common words in the dominant historical language of the Ynelavii, Lanti. According to the scholars, more than ninety-five percent of the scrolls were written in Lanti with the remaining five percent written in the ancient language of the Seer and geographical dialects that were spoken by small groups. As the new tactical officer of the Weisskopf, Captain Dhrex had tasked her with reading the war history of the planet to determine their strategies and whether they had actually evolved beyond the border wars that most worlds had during their industrial, technological and early space ages. Renn had already perused the digital history of the planet’s wars, the ones written by the victors, and found them to be substantially biased.
The scrolls would hopefully tell her a different story and lead her to a better conclusion, though the recent actions of the rebel movement against the mainstream religious government led her to believe that another war, a dangerous one, was brewing. The Ynelavii had already developed nuclear fusion and discarded it as a power resource, preferring the more natural ones instead. However, with their advanced technology and the lack of an outside enemy to fight with the near extinction of the Resoto Hegemony, the old disputes had flared back up again and threatened to devastate the planet. If the rebels were able to get their hands on a warship, the fight would be over. The tricorder chirruped, bringing her out of her daydream, and she noted the display. She had reached the immense war archive, a collection of almost a million scrolls, most of which were written by soldiers during times of war. It was these scrolls that would give her the best picture of the history of violence that the Ynelavii had been through, though it seemed to her that lessons had not been learned. Renn set the tricorder and padd down on a nearby table and selected a handful of scrolls at random, placing them next to her equipment. She began to translate the texts and read the accounts of war. One soldier, from approximately a hundred years ago, described his first experience of combat that was familiar to her from her own experiences during the Dominion war.
“The shelling began at dawn, killing the medics and the wounded straight away. They were the lucky ones as the bombardment continued unabated from the skies until dawn of the next day. I had no time for fear or grief as the troops landed to finish us off. Colonel Herak ordered us to fight to the death like good Nelanii soldiers but General Tedas, an old soldier from many wars, saw the futility and ordered a retreat. The two men fought against themselves as we fought the enemy and we did drive them back, but not before losing three quarters of the battalion. When we did retreat we left Herak’s body where it lay, a message to the enemy that we were the barbarians they believed us to be. It was my first and only taste of combat as the ceasefire was declared the following day, and peace was declared the following…”
Renn stopped reading as dust floated down from the ceiling, followed by a resounding thump. The ceiling began to crumble and she dived out of the way as a section smashed the table she’d been sitting at. The broken windows rained glass around her and she glimpsed fliers around the Archives through the bright sky.
‘Renn to Weisskopf,’ she slapped her combadge hoping that they could actually hear her.
‘Go ahead, Commander,’ Dhrex replied.
‘The Archives are being destroyed by some kind of fighter planes; I need an emergency transport.’
‘Stand by, Commander.’
Renn dematerialised a moment later, rematerialising on the bridge.
‘Captain, the scrolls will be destroyed, we have to beam them aboard,’ she cried out in frustration.
‘Where do you propose we keep them, space isn’t exactly plentiful around here?’
‘Cargo bay three and the auxiliary shuttle bay.’
Dhrex considered the options and then hit a control on his armrest. ‘Bridge to transporter room one; Chief, I want you to beam as many of the scrolls as you can to cargo bay three and the auxiliary shuttlebay. Utilise whatever power you need, now!’
‘Aye sir, starting transport now,’ the transporter chief replied.
Dhrex turned to his exec, Commander Andrew Banks, the former tactical officer. ‘Get Regent Dolan on the line. I want to know what the hell is happening down there.’
‘I’ve been trying. We’re being jammed from the surface.’
Dhrex muttered a mild Denobulan curse. ‘Can you localise the jamming?’
Banks frowned as he worked the tactical console alongside Renn. ‘It’s clearing; we’re being hailed from the Science Ministry.’
‘On screen.’
‘This is Furan, leader of the Ynelavii Rebellion. For too long the Nelanii have been the dominant religion on this world, suppressing the Truth of the Seer. That time is over. Regent Dolan has been deposed and I now control the government. We will give you all the truth about the Seer, what He represented in the past and what He represents now. The Seer is among us and He will reveal Himself soon. We must all be ready to accept Him and we shall be. To the Federation vessel in orbit, you are no longer wanted on this world and we would ask that you return the contents of our Archives to us. Your theft will not go unpunished.’
‘He’s insane.’
‘Quite possibly,’ Dhrex replied, ‘but we are obliged to follow the dictates of the ruling leader. And since he has declared that we are no longer wanted, we should depart.’
‘What about the scrolls?’ Renn asked.
‘If he wants them back, he can have them. Transport them all to the Science Ministry. They can return them to the Archives once it has been repaired.’
Banks smirked. ‘I don’t think they’ll like that.’
‘Won’t they?’ the Captain asked with a wide grin.
Central Archives
Ynelav IV
Stardate 57334.1
The sunlight barely penetrated the darkened windows of the cavernous archives and this made Lieutenant Commander Kareni Renn more than a little anxious as her native homeworld was blazing with two suns for more than nine tenths of the year. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness easily enough, a side effect of spending most of her adult life aboard starbases and starships, and she strolled slowly down the rows of preserved scrolls looking for the markings that denoted the war archives. The tricorder and padd she carried had both been programmed with a limited translation matrix of the five thousand most common words in the dominant historical language of the Ynelavii, Lanti. According to the scholars, more than ninety-five percent of the scrolls were written in Lanti with the remaining five percent written in the ancient language of the Seer and geographical dialects that were spoken by small groups. As the new tactical officer of the Weisskopf, Captain Dhrex had tasked her with reading the war history of the planet to determine their strategies and whether they had actually evolved beyond the border wars that most worlds had during their industrial, technological and early space ages. Renn had already perused the digital history of the planet’s wars, the ones written by the victors, and found them to be substantially biased.
The scrolls would hopefully tell her a different story and lead her to a better conclusion, though the recent actions of the rebel movement against the mainstream religious government led her to believe that another war, a dangerous one, was brewing. The Ynelavii had already developed nuclear fusion and discarded it as a power resource, preferring the more natural ones instead. However, with their advanced technology and the lack of an outside enemy to fight with the near extinction of the Resoto Hegemony, the old disputes had flared back up again and threatened to devastate the planet. If the rebels were able to get their hands on a warship, the fight would be over. The tricorder chirruped, bringing her out of her daydream, and she noted the display. She had reached the immense war archive, a collection of almost a million scrolls, most of which were written by soldiers during times of war. It was these scrolls that would give her the best picture of the history of violence that the Ynelavii had been through, though it seemed to her that lessons had not been learned. Renn set the tricorder and padd down on a nearby table and selected a handful of scrolls at random, placing them next to her equipment. She began to translate the texts and read the accounts of war. One soldier, from approximately a hundred years ago, described his first experience of combat that was familiar to her from her own experiences during the Dominion war.
“The shelling began at dawn, killing the medics and the wounded straight away. They were the lucky ones as the bombardment continued unabated from the skies until dawn of the next day. I had no time for fear or grief as the troops landed to finish us off. Colonel Herak ordered us to fight to the death like good Nelanii soldiers but General Tedas, an old soldier from many wars, saw the futility and ordered a retreat. The two men fought against themselves as we fought the enemy and we did drive them back, but not before losing three quarters of the battalion. When we did retreat we left Herak’s body where it lay, a message to the enemy that we were the barbarians they believed us to be. It was my first and only taste of combat as the ceasefire was declared the following day, and peace was declared the following…”
Renn stopped reading as dust floated down from the ceiling, followed by a resounding thump. The ceiling began to crumble and she dived out of the way as a section smashed the table she’d been sitting at. The broken windows rained glass around her and she glimpsed fliers around the Archives through the bright sky.
‘Renn to Weisskopf,’ she slapped her combadge hoping that they could actually hear her.
‘Go ahead, Commander,’ Dhrex replied.
‘The Archives are being destroyed by some kind of fighter planes; I need an emergency transport.’
‘Stand by, Commander.’
Renn dematerialised a moment later, rematerialising on the bridge.
‘Captain, the scrolls will be destroyed, we have to beam them aboard,’ she cried out in frustration.
‘Where do you propose we keep them, space isn’t exactly plentiful around here?’
‘Cargo bay three and the auxiliary shuttle bay.’
Dhrex considered the options and then hit a control on his armrest. ‘Bridge to transporter room one; Chief, I want you to beam as many of the scrolls as you can to cargo bay three and the auxiliary shuttlebay. Utilise whatever power you need, now!’
‘Aye sir, starting transport now,’ the transporter chief replied.
Dhrex turned to his exec, Commander Andrew Banks, the former tactical officer. ‘Get Regent Dolan on the line. I want to know what the hell is happening down there.’
‘I’ve been trying. We’re being jammed from the surface.’
Dhrex muttered a mild Denobulan curse. ‘Can you localise the jamming?’
Banks frowned as he worked the tactical console alongside Renn. ‘It’s clearing; we’re being hailed from the Science Ministry.’
‘On screen.’
‘This is Furan, leader of the Ynelavii Rebellion. For too long the Nelanii have been the dominant religion on this world, suppressing the Truth of the Seer. That time is over. Regent Dolan has been deposed and I now control the government. We will give you all the truth about the Seer, what He represented in the past and what He represents now. The Seer is among us and He will reveal Himself soon. We must all be ready to accept Him and we shall be. To the Federation vessel in orbit, you are no longer wanted on this world and we would ask that you return the contents of our Archives to us. Your theft will not go unpunished.’
‘He’s insane.’
‘Quite possibly,’ Dhrex replied, ‘but we are obliged to follow the dictates of the ruling leader. And since he has declared that we are no longer wanted, we should depart.’
‘What about the scrolls?’ Renn asked.
‘If he wants them back, he can have them. Transport them all to the Science Ministry. They can return them to the Archives once it has been repaired.’
Banks smirked. ‘I don’t think they’ll like that.’
‘Won’t they?’ the Captain asked with a wide grin.
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 1
Just got caught up with your story. You've assembled quite a cast of interesting characters. It's no easy task to juggle such a variety of personalities and styles, but you've made it look easy - Great job! Also, you've created several intriguing plot threads as well. This is proving to be both an entertaining and complex tale!
Just got caught up with your story. You've assembled quite a cast of interesting characters. It's no easy task to juggle such a variety of personalities and styles, but you've made it look easy - Great job! Also, you've created several intriguing plot threads as well. This is proving to be both an entertaining and complex tale!
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 1
Thanks, I'm having such fun writing this series.
I'm trying to make it a little lighter than "The Pebbled Sea" but there is still plenty of darkness.
I've yet to reintroduce some of the characters from my first story but when I do there will be trouble and a lot of soul searching.
Thanks, I'm having such fun writing this series.
I'm trying to make it a little lighter than "The Pebbled Sea" but there is still plenty of darkness.
I've yet to reintroduce some of the characters from my first story but when I do there will be trouble and a lot of soul searching.
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 1
An interesting development on Ynelavii as it appears that a far more religiously oriented faction has attained power. The big question is: will they by isolationist by nature or will they feel that it is their duty to promote the devotion of the Seer to everyone else...
An interesting development on Ynelavii as it appears that a far more religiously oriented faction has attained power. The big question is: will they by isolationist by nature or will they feel that it is their duty to promote the devotion of the Seer to everyone else...
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
USS Dauntless
En route to Eeroth
Stardate 57335.6
Seated at the Operations console, Lieutenant Shanitalen ch’Maras watched his displays of the ship’s current power usage, noting that both holodecks were currently in use and the chef was preparing what appeared to be a large meal since the galley was using almost three times what it usually did. He was responsible for the life support systems, communication and basic sensor analysis and since the incident aboard Starbase 535 he had taken to this responsibilities with renewed vigour, hoping to make up for his behaviour. The ship was currently travelling at warp six toward the area of space known locally as the Badlands, and on Federation charts at the Kursican Badlands, since numerous other regions contained “badlands” where there was no law and illegal trades often took place. The Kursican Badlands, according to both Jenak and Rashal, were home to a creature that could devour entire ships in moments and then vanish without a trace. Commander Wright had likened it to a region of ocean on Earth called the Bermuda Triangle, where planes and ships vanished without a trace.
Ch’Maras had no such illusions about the region they were approaching. It was similar to the Cardassian Badlands in that there were severe plasma storms which were capable of destroying ships and leaving little trace, and a smattering of L- and M-class asteroids and planets. According to Rashal, his homeworld lay on the other side of the three-parsec wide expanse. Captain Astar, prior to receiving the go-ahead from Starfleet Command, had ordered extensive emergency drills to prepare the crew for any eventuality. Some things, he knew, could not be planned for. He looked around the bridge and noticed the Ynelavii cadet being given another lecture by Gonzales on protocols or something; Astar and Wright were discussing something and at the helm, Larson looked lost in thought. Ch’Maras turned toward the turbolift doors as they opened and Rashal stepped onto the bridge, his gait a little unusual because of his three legs. The Andorian hadn’t had much interaction with the Eerothian since he was given quarters but he knew a few things about the man. He noted that Astar had also glanced at the turbolift and saw Rashal but she made no move to intercept him.
Rashal approached him and leaned in close. ‘I know your pain, Andorian. Your journey to redemption will be long, and you will be welcomed with open arms into the afterlife.’
Ch’Maras blinked in shock and then asked, ‘What do you know of my pain?’
‘I can sense it. Do not let fear guide you, my alien friend. Allow your friends to help you on your path.’
‘Are you a preacher?’ he asked.
Rashal smiled and waved his tentacles in what Shanitalen assumed was a shrug. ‘Not exactly, you will learn more when you reach Eeroth.’
‘Rashal, could I speak with you in my ready room please?’ Astar asked and the alien walked toward her.
‘That’s it folks,’ Wright suddenly announced as the doors to both turbolifts opened depositing the beta shift personnel. ‘Enjoy the rest of your day.’
Shanitalen signed off and handed over his station, providing a quick rundown of the events that occurred during his shift, which were mercifully few. After leaving the bridge he quickly reached his quarters, almost ignoring the large number of officers and crewmembers changing shift. He lowered the temperature from Andor normal, thirty-three degrees below zero in Earth terms to minus forty-nine degrees, the minimum sustainable temperature for Andorians and Aenar to remain conscious, and only for a short time. Divesting himself of his clothes, he sat cross-legged on the floor and tried to quiet his mind. Being part-Aenar, he had learned a number of meditation techniques from Vulcans, Betazoids and Cairn, but his mind refused to be quietened.
‘Lieutenant ch’Maras, you have an incoming message from Andor,’ the computer intoned.
He sighed. ‘Put it though.’
Quickly slipping on a robe and raising the temperature, he sat at his desk as the Federation logo was replaced by Demesrulan zh’Sawel. The look on her face told him plenty.
‘You’re a fool, Shanitalen.’
He took a deep breath. ‘I have already completed the bonding, our Sheltreth was disbanded.’
His former bondmate sighed. ‘There was a problem. I wasn’t able to conceive.’
‘Do you wish me to return?’
‘You cannot. Once Zhavey learned of your behaviour, she called a meeting. I’m afraid to say it was unanimous. You’re no longer welcome in the Sheltreth.’
Shanitalen was aghast. ‘What will you do?’
‘A replacement has already been found, thanks to the ch’Thane Genome Project. I wish you well my brother,’ she replied and cut the transmission.
Ch’Maras slipped off his robe and lowered the temperature. Not only had he been disowned by his mother and bondmates, but he would no longer be able to help conceive a child unless he did so outside of a bond with an Aenar or Andorian who would overlook his transgression.
‘Computer, play something by zh’Lumas.’
‘Specify period.’
‘The early years,’ he replied and used the soft melody of the music to try and aid his mediation.
After several hours he was feeling cold and was no closer to peace. He surmised it was due to the message from home which had disquieted his mind to an extent worse than before.
‘Computer, raise the temperature to Andor normal, discontinue music.’
There was clearly nothing he could do, meditation-wise, to calm his mind and needed another method. It was something of a cultural taboo to involve others in one’s affairs but there were several high-profile examples of the taboo being broken, so Shanitalen decided to speak with a counsellor about his situation. The Angosians were known to eschew violence and a handful had joined Starfleet since the Enterprise-D visited their world almost fifteen years before. The daughter of one of the Angosians present during the Enterprise’s mission was one who had joined Starfleet. Mana Zayner, daughter of Prime Minister Nayrok’s aide, now held the rank of Lieutenant and opted for a counselling position once she graduated the Academy. The woman was talented and graduated in the top fifth of her class, and he just hoped that she would understand his situation enough to help him.
CHAPTER TWO
USS Dauntless
En route to Eeroth
Stardate 57335.6
Seated at the Operations console, Lieutenant Shanitalen ch’Maras watched his displays of the ship’s current power usage, noting that both holodecks were currently in use and the chef was preparing what appeared to be a large meal since the galley was using almost three times what it usually did. He was responsible for the life support systems, communication and basic sensor analysis and since the incident aboard Starbase 535 he had taken to this responsibilities with renewed vigour, hoping to make up for his behaviour. The ship was currently travelling at warp six toward the area of space known locally as the Badlands, and on Federation charts at the Kursican Badlands, since numerous other regions contained “badlands” where there was no law and illegal trades often took place. The Kursican Badlands, according to both Jenak and Rashal, were home to a creature that could devour entire ships in moments and then vanish without a trace. Commander Wright had likened it to a region of ocean on Earth called the Bermuda Triangle, where planes and ships vanished without a trace.
Ch’Maras had no such illusions about the region they were approaching. It was similar to the Cardassian Badlands in that there were severe plasma storms which were capable of destroying ships and leaving little trace, and a smattering of L- and M-class asteroids and planets. According to Rashal, his homeworld lay on the other side of the three-parsec wide expanse. Captain Astar, prior to receiving the go-ahead from Starfleet Command, had ordered extensive emergency drills to prepare the crew for any eventuality. Some things, he knew, could not be planned for. He looked around the bridge and noticed the Ynelavii cadet being given another lecture by Gonzales on protocols or something; Astar and Wright were discussing something and at the helm, Larson looked lost in thought. Ch’Maras turned toward the turbolift doors as they opened and Rashal stepped onto the bridge, his gait a little unusual because of his three legs. The Andorian hadn’t had much interaction with the Eerothian since he was given quarters but he knew a few things about the man. He noted that Astar had also glanced at the turbolift and saw Rashal but she made no move to intercept him.
Rashal approached him and leaned in close. ‘I know your pain, Andorian. Your journey to redemption will be long, and you will be welcomed with open arms into the afterlife.’
Ch’Maras blinked in shock and then asked, ‘What do you know of my pain?’
‘I can sense it. Do not let fear guide you, my alien friend. Allow your friends to help you on your path.’
‘Are you a preacher?’ he asked.
Rashal smiled and waved his tentacles in what Shanitalen assumed was a shrug. ‘Not exactly, you will learn more when you reach Eeroth.’
‘Rashal, could I speak with you in my ready room please?’ Astar asked and the alien walked toward her.
‘That’s it folks,’ Wright suddenly announced as the doors to both turbolifts opened depositing the beta shift personnel. ‘Enjoy the rest of your day.’
Shanitalen signed off and handed over his station, providing a quick rundown of the events that occurred during his shift, which were mercifully few. After leaving the bridge he quickly reached his quarters, almost ignoring the large number of officers and crewmembers changing shift. He lowered the temperature from Andor normal, thirty-three degrees below zero in Earth terms to minus forty-nine degrees, the minimum sustainable temperature for Andorians and Aenar to remain conscious, and only for a short time. Divesting himself of his clothes, he sat cross-legged on the floor and tried to quiet his mind. Being part-Aenar, he had learned a number of meditation techniques from Vulcans, Betazoids and Cairn, but his mind refused to be quietened.
‘Lieutenant ch’Maras, you have an incoming message from Andor,’ the computer intoned.
He sighed. ‘Put it though.’
Quickly slipping on a robe and raising the temperature, he sat at his desk as the Federation logo was replaced by Demesrulan zh’Sawel. The look on her face told him plenty.
‘You’re a fool, Shanitalen.’
He took a deep breath. ‘I have already completed the bonding, our Sheltreth was disbanded.’
His former bondmate sighed. ‘There was a problem. I wasn’t able to conceive.’
‘Do you wish me to return?’
‘You cannot. Once Zhavey learned of your behaviour, she called a meeting. I’m afraid to say it was unanimous. You’re no longer welcome in the Sheltreth.’
Shanitalen was aghast. ‘What will you do?’
‘A replacement has already been found, thanks to the ch’Thane Genome Project. I wish you well my brother,’ she replied and cut the transmission.
Ch’Maras slipped off his robe and lowered the temperature. Not only had he been disowned by his mother and bondmates, but he would no longer be able to help conceive a child unless he did so outside of a bond with an Aenar or Andorian who would overlook his transgression.
‘Computer, play something by zh’Lumas.’
‘Specify period.’
‘The early years,’ he replied and used the soft melody of the music to try and aid his mediation.
After several hours he was feeling cold and was no closer to peace. He surmised it was due to the message from home which had disquieted his mind to an extent worse than before.
‘Computer, raise the temperature to Andor normal, discontinue music.’
There was clearly nothing he could do, meditation-wise, to calm his mind and needed another method. It was something of a cultural taboo to involve others in one’s affairs but there were several high-profile examples of the taboo being broken, so Shanitalen decided to speak with a counsellor about his situation. The Angosians were known to eschew violence and a handful had joined Starfleet since the Enterprise-D visited their world almost fifteen years before. The daughter of one of the Angosians present during the Enterprise’s mission was one who had joined Starfleet. Mana Zayner, daughter of Prime Minister Nayrok’s aide, now held the rank of Lieutenant and opted for a counselling position once she graduated the Academy. The woman was talented and graduated in the top fifth of her class, and he just hoped that she would understand his situation enough to help him.
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 2
Very good character work here. I'm getting a very good feel for Shanitalen--he's someone in a world of hurt right now--serious hurt indeed if he is seriously considering going to a non-Andorian counselor. It also shows a great deal of maturity on his part in that he realizes that he does need help and is willing to take it from outsiders.
Very good character work here. I'm getting a very good feel for Shanitalen--he's someone in a world of hurt right now--serious hurt indeed if he is seriously considering going to a non-Andorian counselor. It also shows a great deal of maturity on his part in that he realizes that he does need help and is willing to take it from outsiders.
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 2
David, Thanks, glad you're enjoying it and I'm planning on more character work for the others as the story goes on. To be honest, this story is more character driven than plot driven, still hope it goes down well.
Mistral, I'm going where no one has gone before, with detours of course
David, Thanks, glad you're enjoying it and I'm planning on more character work for the others as the story goes on. To be honest, this story is more character driven than plot driven, still hope it goes down well.
Mistral, I'm going where no one has gone before, with detours of course
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 2
While your story may be character driven, there's still a good flow and interesting story line. Perhaps a bit challenging to follow at times, but definitely worth the effort! :thumbsup:
While your story may be character driven, there's still a good flow and interesting story line. Perhaps a bit challenging to follow at times, but definitely worth the effort! :thumbsup:
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 2
Seriously though, There are only a handful of major threads. The Dauntless, the Cha'lav, the Ynelavii/Weisskopf, the Kursicans/Starbase 535, and the Independence. Surely, that's not too much work
Thanks!
A bit challenging? You wouldn't want it to be easy now, would you?
Seriously though, There are only a handful of major threads. The Dauntless, the Cha'lav, the Ynelavii/Weisskopf, the Kursicans/Starbase 535, and the Independence. Surely, that's not too much work
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 2
Norkova-class freighter Kolvoord
Ramajuan Salvage Yards
Kursican sector
Stardate 57336.2
There was a single inhabited starship in the salvage yards and the eighteen-deck vessel served as the meeting place and haven for the salvagers and others who frequented the area. Since it was in unclaimed space, it was the perfect meeting place for people who didn’t want to be seen. Nicholas Locarno had been diverted from his latest mission for Dreno’L, the Deputy Commissioner for Xyril City’s Space Ministry, to meet with his handler. It was a rare occasion since being recruited several years before. To undertake his observation of the situation in the Kursican sector, he had to give up his cushy officer’s billet on the border cutter Snubfin. It meant leaving a few friends behind, but he knew that it was worth it because if this situation got out of hand, there would be war—and the Federation would lose this one because it was currently ill-equipped to wage it after being back on an exploration footing, as were the Klingons in their own fashion. The Romulans and Cardassians could not be relied upon to assist and as for the minor powers, they were waiting in the wings for the inevitable power vacuum. Locarno entered what would have been a private dining room and sat in booth at the back, sipping an unusual ale while waiting for his handler.
‘I hope I haven’t kept you waiting,’ the dark-skinned man said as he slipped into a seat beside Locarno.
‘It wouldn’t have mattered,’ the Starfleet officer muttered. ‘I would still have to wait for you.’
‘Yes you would,’ his handler agreed.
‘What do you have for me?’ Locarno asked; eager not to be seen there and not to be there for too long.
‘According to my sources, Captain Astar is taking the Eeroth back to his people, leaving the Weisskopf and the Independence to hold the sector. There has been no Cha’lav activity around here for about two weeks but I don’t expect it to last. Complete your mission for the Deputy Minister and then return to Starbase 535. I want you to keep your eyes and ears open and report back as soon as you hear anything.’
‘You might have been able to get me into Starfleet but I’m not exactly welcomed by most people. Commander Logan is suspicious of me and I’ve noticed him trying to figure out how I managed to get into Starfleet in the first place. Are you sure that there is nothing that he can find to get me into trouble?’
‘Your CO on the Snubfin gave you a good reference, Lieutenant. There isn’t any problem with your Starfleet service record. But you should have asked for a transfer rather than taking a leave of absence.’
‘If I remember correctly, you were the one who suggested the leave of absence. Besides, at the time you asked me to come out here, there was only one starship assigned to the sector and they had no idea about the Cha’lav. I won’t ask how you knew, because I don’t care, but it won’t be easy for me to get information out of the officers at the Starbase.’
‘There are a few that know you, and that trust you to some degree,’ his handler replied.
Locarno knew who he was referring to but made nothing of it. He wasn’t planning to jeopardise his newfound friendship with Hajar. She’d been through enough recently and he was hoping that he could make it more than a friendship at some point. ‘That’s true, but I don’t know how long I’m likely to be working for Dreno’L. I have to search for a specific part in this salvage yard and get it to him as soon as possible.’
The Section 31 agent nodded. ‘I’m well aware of your mission, Lieutenant, and I have every confidence that you will succeed. You’ve done exceedingly well since joining us and I see no reason why that can’t continue. I will be returning to Starbase 535 shortly, but I’ll probably be on my way back to Earth before you return, so it might be a while before I contact you again. If you have any information, transmit it on the usual channel and it will be received.’
‘Can I go now?’ Locarno asked. ‘I need to trade a few supplies before I get on with my search, and I do have a limited window.’
‘Have a good day, Lieutenant,’ the agent said and sidled out of the booth.
Locarno waited until he’d left the room before returning to his ship. He didn’t need any supplies; he just needed to find a particular wreck which had been sitting out there for about a thousand years. Thanks to the deputy minister he had a specific metallic signature to look for, and Hajar had tweaked his sensors and a few other systems before she returned to the Weisskopf in thanks for saving her life, allowing him to make it a shorter search. After the freighter had been completely overhauled by the engineers on the Starbase, and he’d been awarded the contract to Xyril City, he’d spent the first few days making new contacts in the salvage yards. The inhabited starship, called Gashoqap by the owner, and focus point for all the business in the area, was frequented by every cargo hauler in the sector. He decided that he would need those contacts in the future.
The Kolvoord detached itself from the drydock which surrounded the Gashoqap and turned awkwardly before heading deeper into the salvage yards. The vessel he was looking for belonged to a civilisation whose star had gone nova about fifteen hundred years ago, the ship was one of the few remnants of that culture but the native races to the Kursican sector cared little about xenoarchaeology and more about what they could take for themselves. The cargo haulers, when not running cargo, spent much of their time rooting through the hulks and wrecks looking the next big score. More often than not they found little of interest. Dreno’L believed that he had found something which would make him rich and had dedicated an enormous amount of money to finding it. Locarno was his instrument and while it rankled the Starfleet officer, he knew that it was just for another few days, and then he would return to the Starbase and listen out for more important information.
Norkova-class freighter Kolvoord
Ramajuan Salvage Yards
Kursican sector
Stardate 57336.2
There was a single inhabited starship in the salvage yards and the eighteen-deck vessel served as the meeting place and haven for the salvagers and others who frequented the area. Since it was in unclaimed space, it was the perfect meeting place for people who didn’t want to be seen. Nicholas Locarno had been diverted from his latest mission for Dreno’L, the Deputy Commissioner for Xyril City’s Space Ministry, to meet with his handler. It was a rare occasion since being recruited several years before. To undertake his observation of the situation in the Kursican sector, he had to give up his cushy officer’s billet on the border cutter Snubfin. It meant leaving a few friends behind, but he knew that it was worth it because if this situation got out of hand, there would be war—and the Federation would lose this one because it was currently ill-equipped to wage it after being back on an exploration footing, as were the Klingons in their own fashion. The Romulans and Cardassians could not be relied upon to assist and as for the minor powers, they were waiting in the wings for the inevitable power vacuum. Locarno entered what would have been a private dining room and sat in booth at the back, sipping an unusual ale while waiting for his handler.
‘I hope I haven’t kept you waiting,’ the dark-skinned man said as he slipped into a seat beside Locarno.
‘It wouldn’t have mattered,’ the Starfleet officer muttered. ‘I would still have to wait for you.’
‘Yes you would,’ his handler agreed.
‘What do you have for me?’ Locarno asked; eager not to be seen there and not to be there for too long.
‘According to my sources, Captain Astar is taking the Eeroth back to his people, leaving the Weisskopf and the Independence to hold the sector. There has been no Cha’lav activity around here for about two weeks but I don’t expect it to last. Complete your mission for the Deputy Minister and then return to Starbase 535. I want you to keep your eyes and ears open and report back as soon as you hear anything.’
‘You might have been able to get me into Starfleet but I’m not exactly welcomed by most people. Commander Logan is suspicious of me and I’ve noticed him trying to figure out how I managed to get into Starfleet in the first place. Are you sure that there is nothing that he can find to get me into trouble?’
‘Your CO on the Snubfin gave you a good reference, Lieutenant. There isn’t any problem with your Starfleet service record. But you should have asked for a transfer rather than taking a leave of absence.’
‘If I remember correctly, you were the one who suggested the leave of absence. Besides, at the time you asked me to come out here, there was only one starship assigned to the sector and they had no idea about the Cha’lav. I won’t ask how you knew, because I don’t care, but it won’t be easy for me to get information out of the officers at the Starbase.’
‘There are a few that know you, and that trust you to some degree,’ his handler replied.
Locarno knew who he was referring to but made nothing of it. He wasn’t planning to jeopardise his newfound friendship with Hajar. She’d been through enough recently and he was hoping that he could make it more than a friendship at some point. ‘That’s true, but I don’t know how long I’m likely to be working for Dreno’L. I have to search for a specific part in this salvage yard and get it to him as soon as possible.’
The Section 31 agent nodded. ‘I’m well aware of your mission, Lieutenant, and I have every confidence that you will succeed. You’ve done exceedingly well since joining us and I see no reason why that can’t continue. I will be returning to Starbase 535 shortly, but I’ll probably be on my way back to Earth before you return, so it might be a while before I contact you again. If you have any information, transmit it on the usual channel and it will be received.’
‘Can I go now?’ Locarno asked. ‘I need to trade a few supplies before I get on with my search, and I do have a limited window.’
‘Have a good day, Lieutenant,’ the agent said and sidled out of the booth.
Locarno waited until he’d left the room before returning to his ship. He didn’t need any supplies; he just needed to find a particular wreck which had been sitting out there for about a thousand years. Thanks to the deputy minister he had a specific metallic signature to look for, and Hajar had tweaked his sensors and a few other systems before she returned to the Weisskopf in thanks for saving her life, allowing him to make it a shorter search. After the freighter had been completely overhauled by the engineers on the Starbase, and he’d been awarded the contract to Xyril City, he’d spent the first few days making new contacts in the salvage yards. The inhabited starship, called Gashoqap by the owner, and focus point for all the business in the area, was frequented by every cargo hauler in the sector. He decided that he would need those contacts in the future.
The Kolvoord detached itself from the drydock which surrounded the Gashoqap and turned awkwardly before heading deeper into the salvage yards. The vessel he was looking for belonged to a civilisation whose star had gone nova about fifteen hundred years ago, the ship was one of the few remnants of that culture but the native races to the Kursican sector cared little about xenoarchaeology and more about what they could take for themselves. The cargo haulers, when not running cargo, spent much of their time rooting through the hulks and wrecks looking the next big score. More often than not they found little of interest. Dreno’L believed that he had found something which would make him rich and had dedicated an enormous amount of money to finding it. Locarno was his instrument and while it rankled the Starfleet officer, he knew that it was just for another few days, and then he would return to the Starbase and listen out for more important information.
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 2
Interesting story. I will have to catch up on the older stuff. Good intrigue. Maybe I'm just tired, but it seemed like at the end, less detail was given concerning some characters with even main parts of a scene, just a name... But like I said, I'm pretty tired right now.
Interesting story. I will have to catch up on the older stuff. Good intrigue. Maybe I'm just tired, but it seemed like at the end, less detail was given concerning some characters with even main parts of a scene, just a name... But like I said, I'm pretty tired right now.
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 2
*Computer, dim lights*
Huh? If you mean the S31 "handler/agent" I haven't decided on a name for him, or whether I will use a previous S31 agent from United Trek. Otherwise, you really need some sleep dude.
*Computer, dim lights*
Re: Burning Ring of Fire - Chapter 2
USS Dauntless
Approaching Kursican Badlands
Stardate 57337.9
Commander Aaron Wright looked at the main viewscreen in awe as the rest of the bridge crew followed suit. Like the Cardassian Badlands, the Kursicans Badlands was a region of dense plasma storms which were a navigational hazard, although according to the readings that were being sent to the science station, the plasma storms here were almost five times powerful than those of the Cardassian Badlands. Few ships ever ventured into the region and fewer still returned, but the Intrepid-class ships were the most suitable for traversing such regions, which was why the USS Voyager was the vessel selected for tracking a Maquis ship a decade ago. With the new astrometrics array, the Dauntless should be able to navigate through the Badlands with relative ease, and on the other side lay unexplored space. According to Rashal, who now stood at the rail behind the command chairs, only a few Eeroth had ever left their homeworld to venture into the Badlands and none had returned. Wright personally believed that if they had made it they would not have wanted to go back.
‘Commander, what can you tell me about the myth?’ Captain Astar asked, tearing her eyes from the beautiful sight on the viewscreen.
‘Very little, Captain,’ Wright replied. ‘According to the Ynelavii database, they look to the Badlands very much like the region on Earth known as the Bermuda Triangle, or on Trill as the Ganses Sink.’
‘Where sea-going ships disappear never to be seen again,’ Astar muttered. ‘I’ve never believed those stories. Go on,’ she added.
‘I’ve spoken with both Jenak and Rashal and they have both told me similar stories. In both cultures there is a myth regarding a continent-sized slug-like creature which appears from nowhere and consumes vessels before vanishing again.’
‘Have there been any investigations into the losses of the vessels?’ Mahtani asked, turning away from the science station.
Astar turned to the railing where Rashal stood. ‘Well?’
Rashal’s almost-humanoid features changed hue. ‘Not as such. My government, primarily ruled by the Dahreki, frequently use ships crewed by criminals to explore the Badlands. If they return they are given partial pardons and sent to live in a minimum-security penal colony.’
Astar’s brow creased and her spots darkened; a sure sign of anger. ‘That is barbaric behaviour.’
‘How many vessels returned?’ Mahtani asked.
‘Three, out of approximately fifty,’ the Eerothian answered.
‘A waste of life,’ Astar said.
‘I was thinking it was a novel way of utilising those people which have damaged society in some way, the danger aside,’ Wright interjected, earning himself a glare from Astar. ‘It may be barbaric to you, Captain, but instead of prisoners taking space up, they can be put to good use. On Earth, after World War Three, prisoners were experimented on to test cures for various diseases. Many died but the scientific knowledge which was gained…’
Astar held up a hand to silence him, knowing that her people also practiced such things in the past. ‘Such arguments are irrelevant to this discussion. What about your people, Jenak? Did they make any investigations into the losses?’
The young Ynelavii nodded. ‘Yes sir, the Ministry of the Judiciary has a dedicated taskforce for the Badlands.’
‘And why is that?’
‘Numerous criminals have used to Badlands to escape justice, but the Militia daren’t get too close to the centre in case the Manxome catches them.’
‘Can you describe the rough layout of the Badlands for us?’ Mahtani asked.
‘It is three parsecs long and one light-year wide at the longest points,’ Jenak answered. ‘The plasma storms are about a thousand AUs in distance and there is nothing in the centre that we know of. All the probes which my people have sent in there have detected nothing, before being destroyed.’
‘Destroyed by what?’ the chief science officer asked, clearly enjoying this expedition into the unknown.
Jenak shrugged. ‘We don’t know.’
‘How do you know so much?’ Gonzales asked.
The young cadet smiled. ‘I studied science at university in the hopes that it would increase my tactical knowledge. As one of our philosophers once said, “Science is war by other means.”’
Mahtani smiled. ‘I think you’ll do well as a scientist, you have the right mindset.’ He turned to Astar. ‘Captain, did the get the probes’ telemetry when we got their stellar database?’
‘Honestly, I’m not sure, Lieutenant. Why don’t you get your team on that? I want you down in astrometrics so you can assist us in getting through the plasma storms. The sooner we get through, the sooner we’ll be able to return Rashal to his people.’
‘Aye sir, I’ll have Lieutenant Malling working on the Ynelavii database.’
Astar nodded and turned toward the viewscreen where the roiling purple-tinged plasma created swirling vortexes of devastating power. ‘Are we ready?’ she asked Wright.
‘Yes sir, we are,’ her exec answered. ‘Inertial dampers are at maximum, the structural integrity field has been reinforced and shields are at full.’
She toggled the intraship comm system. ‘This is the captain. We are about to enter the Kursican Badlands, a region of intense plasma storms and gravimetric shears. I know you will all do your best to keep this ship in one piece so man your stations and prepare for a bumpy ride.’
‘All departments report ready, Captain,’ Gonzales said from the tactical station.
‘Mister Larson, take us in, slow and steady at one quarter impulse.’
‘I can handle it at half impulse, Captain,’ Larson replied with a teenager’s boast to his voice.
‘I don’t doubt that, Ensign, but I want to play it safe and give us enough time to react if something goes wrong. It will be easier to do that at one quarter.’
‘Aye sir,’ he replied.
The Dauntless effortlessly entered the Badlands and Larson turned to the ship on its port side to avoid a plasma vortex almost immediately. He slowed the ship to one fifth impulse to give him a greater heads-up and then settled into the routine of dodging.
‘Can I get a tactical plot of the Badlands? It’ll be easier to get ahead of the vortexes,’ Larson asked a few minutes later.
‘Sure,’ Gonzales replied and the main viewscreen changed from the rolling plasma to a grid image of the immediate area of the Badlands, approximately a hundred billion kilometres, giving him a good idea of when a vortex was going to appear.
‘How long until we get through the plasma storms?’ Astar asked.
‘At least two days at this speed,’ Larson replied as the ship veered to starboard.
USS Dauntless
Approaching Kursican Badlands
Stardate 57337.9
Commander Aaron Wright looked at the main viewscreen in awe as the rest of the bridge crew followed suit. Like the Cardassian Badlands, the Kursicans Badlands was a region of dense plasma storms which were a navigational hazard, although according to the readings that were being sent to the science station, the plasma storms here were almost five times powerful than those of the Cardassian Badlands. Few ships ever ventured into the region and fewer still returned, but the Intrepid-class ships were the most suitable for traversing such regions, which was why the USS Voyager was the vessel selected for tracking a Maquis ship a decade ago. With the new astrometrics array, the Dauntless should be able to navigate through the Badlands with relative ease, and on the other side lay unexplored space. According to Rashal, who now stood at the rail behind the command chairs, only a few Eeroth had ever left their homeworld to venture into the Badlands and none had returned. Wright personally believed that if they had made it they would not have wanted to go back.
‘Commander, what can you tell me about the myth?’ Captain Astar asked, tearing her eyes from the beautiful sight on the viewscreen.
‘Very little, Captain,’ Wright replied. ‘According to the Ynelavii database, they look to the Badlands very much like the region on Earth known as the Bermuda Triangle, or on Trill as the Ganses Sink.’
‘Where sea-going ships disappear never to be seen again,’ Astar muttered. ‘I’ve never believed those stories. Go on,’ she added.
‘I’ve spoken with both Jenak and Rashal and they have both told me similar stories. In both cultures there is a myth regarding a continent-sized slug-like creature which appears from nowhere and consumes vessels before vanishing again.’
‘Have there been any investigations into the losses of the vessels?’ Mahtani asked, turning away from the science station.
Astar turned to the railing where Rashal stood. ‘Well?’
Rashal’s almost-humanoid features changed hue. ‘Not as such. My government, primarily ruled by the Dahreki, frequently use ships crewed by criminals to explore the Badlands. If they return they are given partial pardons and sent to live in a minimum-security penal colony.’
Astar’s brow creased and her spots darkened; a sure sign of anger. ‘That is barbaric behaviour.’
‘How many vessels returned?’ Mahtani asked.
‘Three, out of approximately fifty,’ the Eerothian answered.
‘A waste of life,’ Astar said.
‘I was thinking it was a novel way of utilising those people which have damaged society in some way, the danger aside,’ Wright interjected, earning himself a glare from Astar. ‘It may be barbaric to you, Captain, but instead of prisoners taking space up, they can be put to good use. On Earth, after World War Three, prisoners were experimented on to test cures for various diseases. Many died but the scientific knowledge which was gained…’
Astar held up a hand to silence him, knowing that her people also practiced such things in the past. ‘Such arguments are irrelevant to this discussion. What about your people, Jenak? Did they make any investigations into the losses?’
The young Ynelavii nodded. ‘Yes sir, the Ministry of the Judiciary has a dedicated taskforce for the Badlands.’
‘And why is that?’
‘Numerous criminals have used to Badlands to escape justice, but the Militia daren’t get too close to the centre in case the Manxome catches them.’
‘Can you describe the rough layout of the Badlands for us?’ Mahtani asked.
‘It is three parsecs long and one light-year wide at the longest points,’ Jenak answered. ‘The plasma storms are about a thousand AUs in distance and there is nothing in the centre that we know of. All the probes which my people have sent in there have detected nothing, before being destroyed.’
‘Destroyed by what?’ the chief science officer asked, clearly enjoying this expedition into the unknown.
Jenak shrugged. ‘We don’t know.’
‘How do you know so much?’ Gonzales asked.
The young cadet smiled. ‘I studied science at university in the hopes that it would increase my tactical knowledge. As one of our philosophers once said, “Science is war by other means.”’
Mahtani smiled. ‘I think you’ll do well as a scientist, you have the right mindset.’ He turned to Astar. ‘Captain, did the get the probes’ telemetry when we got their stellar database?’
‘Honestly, I’m not sure, Lieutenant. Why don’t you get your team on that? I want you down in astrometrics so you can assist us in getting through the plasma storms. The sooner we get through, the sooner we’ll be able to return Rashal to his people.’
‘Aye sir, I’ll have Lieutenant Malling working on the Ynelavii database.’
Astar nodded and turned toward the viewscreen where the roiling purple-tinged plasma created swirling vortexes of devastating power. ‘Are we ready?’ she asked Wright.
‘Yes sir, we are,’ her exec answered. ‘Inertial dampers are at maximum, the structural integrity field has been reinforced and shields are at full.’
She toggled the intraship comm system. ‘This is the captain. We are about to enter the Kursican Badlands, a region of intense plasma storms and gravimetric shears. I know you will all do your best to keep this ship in one piece so man your stations and prepare for a bumpy ride.’
‘All departments report ready, Captain,’ Gonzales said from the tactical station.
‘Mister Larson, take us in, slow and steady at one quarter impulse.’
‘I can handle it at half impulse, Captain,’ Larson replied with a teenager’s boast to his voice.
‘I don’t doubt that, Ensign, but I want to play it safe and give us enough time to react if something goes wrong. It will be easier to do that at one quarter.’
‘Aye sir,’ he replied.
The Dauntless effortlessly entered the Badlands and Larson turned to the ship on its port side to avoid a plasma vortex almost immediately. He slowed the ship to one fifth impulse to give him a greater heads-up and then settled into the routine of dodging.
‘Can I get a tactical plot of the Badlands? It’ll be easier to get ahead of the vortexes,’ Larson asked a few minutes later.
‘Sure,’ Gonzales replied and the main viewscreen changed from the rolling plasma to a grid image of the immediate area of the Badlands, approximately a hundred billion kilometres, giving him a good idea of when a vortex was going to appear.
‘How long until we get through the plasma storms?’ Astar asked.
‘At least two days at this speed,’ Larson replied as the ship veered to starboard.
