~\\_
\\\\_
`\\\\\ -----------------------------------------
|\\\\\ Starfleet Command, Eighth Fleet (OOC)
\\\\\|__.-~~\
_--~ ~~/ Defenders Task Group 85.3, "Whitestone"
/~ _-~~~' Embarked on U.S.S. Coronado, NCC-97901
('-//////-// Rear Admiral Tebrun Lora Kor, Commanding
////// }}-) -----------------------------------------
/////~ Simulation Teaser
_///~ Stardate 240308.25
`
_______________________________________________________________________
/ Simulation Teaser |
/ŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻ
=/.= The Spindle =/.=
Only the strongest threads survived the Adversaries, so only the
strongest could be allowed to survive. Sometimes two threads were
tied together, and sometimes... threads were cut.
=/.= U.S.S. Coronado =/.=
Coronado had her back to the L036/L037 system, but Tebrun Lora Kor
did not.
The frigate was anchored not far outside the system; the subspace
disruption that had plagued this system in previous iterations had
formed "again"... only this time, there were no Xur carriers to
stand in ambush. Instead, the asteroid-starship Xanadu hung nearby,
force projectors of some unknown type holding the disruption steady
in both position and size. As a precaution, Captain Daren had
ordered Coro pointed away from the disruption to facilitate a quick
departure if necessary and as a result, the best view of the
phenomenon was from Seventh Heaven's aft-facing windows.
For several hours, this had been the busiest part of the ship,
virtually every sentient on board finding an excuse to come down
here and have a look. Xanadu was as impressive as ever, and Coro's
particular angle made the First Chamber entrance just visible. The
force projectors were visible and the disruption itself was
frightening in a distant sort of way. However, the view turned out
to be as static as a still photograph and as a result, the novelty
had soon failed for each of the visitors, who had remembered duties
elsewhere.
By 0340 ship's time, the facility was empty but for the staff and
for Lora Kor. Seventh Heaven was still, quiet, most of the lights
off, the only easily audible sound the air recirculators. The
Admiral tried to convince himself that he didn't need sleep because
he'd slept the better portion of the day, but that had nothing to do
with his reasons for being up so late. The small light of the
cortical monitor Doctor Reed had insisted he wear was also not the
issue. Obstensibly, he sat here to drink the one Guinness the
Doctor would allow him and look out and wait for a bout of insomnia
to pass. But insomnia wasn't the issue either. Xanadu and the
nearby disruption were not even the issue... not directly.
Tebrun Lora Kor sat in Seventh Heaven because of his dreams, and
because he had a hunch that he would soon have a visitor. This
hunch eventually proved quite accurate. A shadow fell across his
table as he looked out into space. The Trill turned and glanced
over his shoulder, then nodded as if to himself. He then turned
back to the view outside.
"You know who I am," his visitor said from behind the Admiral. The
voice was male, flat, almost emotionless.
"I know *what* you are," the Admiral said, correcting the pronoun,
"but not who." He kept his voice mild, and did not turn to fully
face his visitor, but instead indicated the seat across from him.
"A few details aside, your Starfleet record says that you are human,
born in the colonies, your background little different from
thousands of other Marines. I presume your Starfleet record is
lying to me."
Accepting Lora Kor's invitation, Colonel Stephen Gregg dropped
slowly into the chair across from the Admiral, his back now to the
windows. He said nothing, so Lora Kor continued.
"Even to say that I know what you are is only partially accurate,"
Lora Kor said. "I know something of what you are, but not the whole
story... no," he said, "not the whole story by any means." Gregg
nodded, but continued to say nothing. Lora Kor allowed his voice to
tighten slightly; his bearing straightened and his eyes briefly
flashed with anger. "I even know something that another man in my
place would not," he said. "The Trill are masters of duality
themselves, and can see duality when they encounter it. One man...
many faces. I considered bringing a phaser to this meeting," the
Trill finished. He clearly meant it.
"You could not harm me with a phaser, Admiral," Gregg said, and his
voice was still flat, but a touch amused.
"And that is the only reason I did not bring one," Lora Kor said,
his voice still firm. "I have seen two of you in my dreams,
'Colonel.' Duality, at once an angel and a demon... the same, but
VERY different. And I don't think that either you nor your opposite
means to help us. How do I even know which one I am speaking to?"
"You are a Trill, Admiral," Gregg said. "Change is at the heart of
what you are." Lora Kor nodded, confirming it. "But some change
has order... structure. Some does not. Some hosts... reject their
symbionts, or vice versa."
The Admiral paused before answering, looking troubled. "Yes, that's
true," he said, "but you haven't answered my question."
"Haven't I?" Gregg asked, eyes boring into Lora Kor. Those eyes
were a thousand years old... maybe older. "It can take days for an
instability in a Trill joining to make itself manifest. Our sense
of time is somewhat... longer. It has to be. Would *you* see order
were you to encounter it in what we do? Or would you see chaos?"
Gregg indicated the room and everything in it with the merest flick
of his eyes. "You are humanoid with all that implies... and in
particular, it implies a reliance on the physical... what you can
see, smell, touch. The rest: what you sense... what you feel,"
Gregg said, and waved his hand as if brushing away something
important, or even annoying, like an insect.
Now the Admiral became angry. "If that's true, then why are we
having this conversation?" he asked, almost between clenched teeth.
"The entire issue here is what we sense," he said.
"Only because what you can touch and what you can feel told you
first that something was amiss," Gregg said. His voice was
unchanged from the beginning of the meeting, still flat and
toneless. He paused, then began again. "Though you have only
recently become aware of it, you have seen chaos... the touch of the
Adversary. You have seen it in those around you. Even the least
sensitive among you are now in danger of being controlled, at least
briefly. They might not even realize it is happening until it is
too late."
Lora Kor shuddered, but he also nodded.
Gregg pressed on, relentless. "Even more, Admiral, you have the
touch of the very Spindle itself upon you. You have found it once
already. The barriers between threads in this spool are very thin
now. You know what I know," Gregg said. His voice was still flat
but now almost a little sad.
"Then the battle here is already lost?" Lora Kor asked. He stood
up, slamming his hands against the table and leaned over it.
"You're giving up? What happens to us?" The Admiral was shouting
now, shattering the still of the lounge. He couldn't help it.
"Some threads are ours," Gregg said, his voice still quiet and flat,
"and some threads are lost to the Adversary. Sometimes to save the
greater, the lesser must be sacrificed. You know this to be true.
I am sorry, but it has always been so." Gregg pushed himself slowly
out of his chair and turned to leave the lounge.
Lora Kor, still standing at his table, hands pressed against its
surface and a half-finished mug of Guinness before him, couldn't
find it in himself to protest Gregg's departure.
=/.= The Spindle =/.=
They were the gardeners of space-time. Sometimes, they planted.
Most times, they allowed their crop to crow. Sometimes,
dispassionately, they had to weed.
\_______________________________________________________________________
\ End Simulation Teaser |
ŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻ
Defenders Task Group 85.3, "Whitestone" Staff:
Commanding, TG 85.3: RADM Tebrun Lora Kor (Jester)
S-1, Group Adjutant: Cmdr. Sieven Drexler (Brad)
S-2, Group Intelligence: Cmdr. Kariasa Ma'Aru (Kari)
S-3, Group Logistics: Cmdr. Savant (Savant)
Commanding, M64 Ground: Brig. Jeremy Ironside (Fraser)
U.S.S. Coronado Crew Roster:
Commanding Officer: Capt. William Daren (Chris)
Executive Officer: Cmdr. Velorna Tal (Aggie)
Chief of Operations: Cmdr. Olme Tlaloco (rev)
Chief Flight Operations: Lt. Maiko D'Rall (Farrell)
Raptors Squadron Leader: LCol. Thomas Wayne (Masters)
Battalion Commander: Maj. Jacob Prescot (Prescot)
Flight Leader: 1Lt. Michael Bishop (Boyd)
Chief Tactical Officer: Lt. Thirishar ch'Thane (Alffred)
Watch Tactical Officer: Lt. Ariana Marist (Dolin)
Watch Tactical Officer: Ens. Derek Canterbury (Spuzzum)
Chief Engineer: Cmdr. Zunite Oswald (Sonya)
Assistant Engineer: LCdr. Jack C. Farley (CCC)
Assistant Engineer: LCdr. Aramis Skylooker (LewisSharp)
Chief Medical Officer: Cmdr. Alec Reed (McC)
Assistant Medical: LCdr. Lauren Dyson (Natty)
On Extended Leave of Absence:
None!
Positions Available:
Chief Science Officer: (---)
Marine Flight Leader: (---)
------
Jester
Rear Admiral Tebrun Lora Kor
Commanding, Defenders Task Group 85.3, "Whitestone"
embarked on U.S.S. Coronado, NCC-97901
http://www.jestertrek.com/coro2400/