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Greeting and Felicitations!

 
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Greeting and Felicitations!
 PostPosted: 2004.24:2113 Reply with quote  
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  TOC-Warpertoo
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Cr. 16.5

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A Klingon Bird of Prey waited silently, hiding in the vast darkness of space, like a hunter lurking in stealth ever watchful for its prey. Yet, upon closer inspection, one could easily see that time had not been kind to this proud predator. Age, it seems, eventually will infect all things like a disease without discrimination. The look of age now permeated this once grand ship. Phaser fire had blackened the faded green hull that once shined along with the pride of its Klingon captain. This captain, once the head of a Great House, sat on the bridge. His Great House once made the galaxy tremble by the virtue of its might, but now his House laid scattered and in disarray.

The Captain’s eyes remained transfixed on the viewscreen. The bridge crew members watched as he studied the main viewer and the data stream at the command chair. After what seemed like an eternity the captain finally looked to his First Officer. “Set course for Tactical Operations Command, Warp 2.”

His First Officer said in disbelief, “Captain, that facility has been abandoned for years. What use--”

“A warrior must know more than just how to kill an enemy! He must know his past, his lineage! I must return to the past in order to move into the future. Engage course now!” The Captain sternly shouted. The First Officer instantly barked commands to the helmsman and navigator. The Bird of Prey jumped, then disappeared as the warp engines engaged.

“You feel impatient, I know. But we must move slowly.” The Captain stared into the First Officer’s eyes. He threatened, “Do not challenge my orders again.” The First Officer submissively lowered his head in response. The Captain stood and directed, “Notify me at once upon our arrival. I will be in my quarters.”

The First Officer acknowledged with a nod and a sharp “Yes Captain!”

The Captain laid on his bunk, as his mind started to wander, he thought about the fate of his Great House. He has attempted to analyze the signs and process that which had led to the disorder his House now endured. Did someone support this downfall? Did the threat come from deception within his House? Or possible conceived from outside, another Great House, from outside the Empire itself? Each round of analysis failed to deliver the data necessary to piece together a reasonable scenario, which he could use to reunite this Great House under his leadership once again. The Captain knew he had overlooked a crucial piece of information, that one missing link that would set him on the correct course for unification. What evidence did he pass over, what did he lose sight of? It must be found. His mind began to grow hazy. Sleep had not come easily to the Captain, not for some time. He fought to concentrate, but the lack of sleep finally took a toll, and the Captain slowly drifted into a deep sleep…

The Captain rocked lightly, followed by a more violent rumble. He commanded, “Tactical! Situation!”

“Two ships, Orion configuration! Their trajectory suggests an ambush from the nearby asteroid field.” He hastily replied.

“Ship Class?” The Captain demanded.

“Captain, sensors indicate two Orion Cruiser class ships on an intercept course! We are clearly outclassed.”

“This might be a good day to die!” The Captain exclaimed. He bellowed, “Evade! Return fire!” The bridge crew worked vigorously to carry out the Captain’s orders. The Klingon Bird of Prey shook as incoming weapons fire continued to find their mark. “Where are our support ships!” shouted the Captain in bewilderment. “Where are our support ships!”

“Our support ships have moved off. They are no longer in our vicinity!” The Tactical Officer yelled as another volley of fire struck.

“Captain! Captain....”

The Captain opened his eyes to find himself in his quarters. He could hear the First Officer’s voice over the intercom, “Captain. Captain!”

The Captain tried to clear his mind, “What…, what do you have for me?”

“Captain, we will arrive at the Tactical Operations Command shortly.”

“Very well,” the Captain said sluggishly, “I will return to the bridge.” The Captain rethought the events of the dream, a dream that always seemed to replay each time he closed his eyes. A memory, he knew, of a dreadful time that began the unraveling of his existence and that of his Great House. His Great House had become entrenched in a meaningless conflict. Meaningless? He thought again. He still could not understand how such an irrelevant venture could have led to such devastating consequences. This matter, he knew, required resolution. The Captain hoped that by returning the TOC, he may uncover a clue.

“Captain, we are coming into range of the TOC.” The First Officer advised as the Captain entered the bridge.

“Very well. Drop to impulse power for approach.” The Captain ordered.

The Bird of Prey dropped out of warp drive and came into a synchronized orbit around the TOC. “Captain, we are receiving a transmission from the TOC,” said the First Officer, “It must have been activated when we entered orbit.”

“Bring it up on the main viewer,” replied the Captain with a hint of interest. He had not seen or heard this message in a very long time, a very long time indeed.

The main viewer broadcasted the incoming transmission. The crew saw the image of a Starfleet Officer in front of the emblem of the United Federation of Planets. The Starfleet Officer began to speak, “Greetings and felicitations!”

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 PostPosted: 2010.23:2031 Reply with quote  
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  TOC-Warpertoo
Fleet Commander
Fleet Commander


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Joined: 28 Nov 2005
Posts: 19
Location: Northern New York
Cr. 16.5

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Greetings and Felicitations indeed thought the Captain. The Captain continued to listen as the Starfleet Officer persisted in his flattery of the TOC. The Captain remembered this Starfleet Officer as honorable, he wondered how the fate of his Great House may have turned out differently if the TOC had not disbanded. The Captain made this journey in hopes he could find some evidence left in the historical records. Evidence that could assist in his quest to save, revive, and breath life back into his Great House.

“I will transport down,” said the Captain, almost to himself.

“Captain, I will gather your security team to accompany you.” The First Officer said as he began to enter data into the computer system.

“No!” The Captain interrupted. “I need to do this alone.”

“But Captain, protocol mandates that a command officer shall be accompanied by a security team in cases where he will transport into an unknown environment.” The First Officer protested.

“I know the protocols,” said the Captain with obvious annoyance, “I know this environment very well.” The Captain emphasized the word environment. He did know this place well. He spent a number of years as a member, participating to increase understanding and promoting cultural diversity. He chuckled to himself as he reconsidered his last thought. As he looked back at his time in the TOC, the TOC ran several simulations that involved how to deal diplomatically with others. Many times, the failure in the diplomatic portion of the simulation led to mock-up battles. All in the name of learning to accept others, of course. The Captain smiled slightly. He supposed benefits did occur from these models, but now the virtual reality used almost seemed like playing a game.

“You will be able to monitor my movements while I am at the TOC,” the Captain conceded, “that will suffice in this case.” The First Officer relented, as he truly had no other choice.

A shimmering light appeared than began to take form, the form of a Klingon warrior. As the transporter beam faded, the Captain stepped forward into the antechamber of the TOC. The Captain took a moment to look around the antechamber. He noted the architect designed the antechamber’s décor in the same fashion as the Starfleet Command HQ building on Earth. He always thought the designer placed too many benches along the wall. You could never get any real privacy when trying to plan and discuss strategy. He had made suggestions to incorporate a more Klingon design, which unfortunately the Command had rejected after a deep deliberation. The Captain stopped to stare at the door as he arrived at the entryway into the inner sanctum of the TOC. The door did not seem to shine any longer, but you could still see the telltale emblem signifying that a visitor had arrived at the TOC. The emblem reminded him of a Klingon weapon with three blades colored red. Regrettably, the emblem included a Starfleet insignia in the center. He stood in front of the door now, usually the door would automatically open, the Captain surmised the door controls no longer functioned. He thought to himself, time to do this the old fashion way. So he firmly placed his hands on the door and pulled.

A small crack of light beamed across the floor as the Captain, long gone, slowly pulled open the doors. The chamber, long dark, showed the dust and cobwebs of a great sleep. As the light filled more of the chamber, the Captain bore witness to equipment and furniture unused for what looked like ages. The Captain thought, almost out loud, how strange yet familiar this place seems even after all these years. He could almost hear the voices of long-lost friends and adversaries echoing through the chamber, memories of conversations forever lost in the annals of time and space.

As the Captain moved into the chamber, he saw portraits, portraits of former fleet commanders. This corridor, known as the Commanders’ Row, provided a glimpse at the historical leadership of each race represented at the TOC. He stopped to study a portrait. He found himself lost in thought. This leader fought well in each of the simulation. The Captain, thinking back, had relished the many battles the Klingons had planned and engaged in against this adversary. As he turned to move on, he quickly did a double take as he swore the expression on the portrait changed ever so slightly to one of displeasure. The Captain rubbed his eyes, sure that the dust he had stirred up caused this illusion. Finally, he laughed out loud satisfied with his assessment. He turned to continue deeper into the chamber. The Captain understood his first order of business would be to locate and gain access to the Archives. The Captain felt pressed to search and discover any data that may seem useful in his quest. He knew, if that data existed, the Archives would reveal the answers.

The Captain entered the Archives with a purpose. He noticed immediately a dim pulsing console light, blinking on then off ever so faintly, signaling to all who may brave entry into this chamber. Slowly, he cleared years of debris, which allowed the light to glow more serenely. The fact that these consoles still had power simply amazed the Captain. He had brought a small power supply just in case, but the power pack was unnecessary after all. He pulled out his Klingon Tricorder to record any data he may discover. The glow and pulsing of the light acted almost like a means to mesmerize and beckon the observer. The Captain recalled how a few pranksters, mostly the Hydrans, continually setup tricks as jokes, always trying to capture an unsuspecting victim. This light reminded him of one of those practical jokes. After great thought, he pushed the button imagining the activation of a trap that would soon befall him, one of the last dirty deeds the Hydrans conceived prior to the abandonment of the TOC. Luckily, the First Officer would be monitoring his situation. At first, nothing appeared to happen. Soon a dim light began to emanate from the front wall. Yes, of course, the Captain thought with a slight chuckle, the old viewscreen.

On the viewscreen, through the dust, images danced across the wall. He thought in reverence, ah, the old days. When the images finally stopped, the Captain adjusted the setting on the Klingon Tricorder to determine if the archived data properly transferred. He decided that upon return to the Bird of Prey, he would refine his search parameters to narrow the amount of data to study. As the Captain stood, he looked down and smiled. His fingers seemed to dance across the input panel. He had opted to leave his own message, his own little laughable lark for those who may someday venture back to the beginning, the start of it all. He assured himself the Hydrans would receive the blame anyhow. Satisfied, he turned and walked back towards the door. He stopped one last time before passing through the portal, moving from the past back to the present. After one final look down memory lane, he pushed the door shut grinning as the dark once again claimed dominion over the chamber within.

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