SE V Balance Mod RP Thread

[GuppyShark]

Drake Defel cut a very undignified figure as he sprinted through the Palace.

He rounded a corner sharply, arms flailing to keep his balance, and spotted the First Prince and some men marching towards him.

"Prince Davion!" he shouted.

"I've heard," Davion said. "The Palace is on full alert. The Navy is embarking, the fighter squadrons are fully fuelled, and the BattleMechs are powered up. If they want a fight, by jingo, they've got one."

There was a distant rumble. Defel glanced out a shielded window and saw the drive plume of a Sparta-class frigate lifting off from the New Avalon spaceport.

Drake fell in with the Prince's men as they reached him. "What do you have for me?" the Prince asked.

"Only research briefings and diplomatic messages from the French, UFP, etcetera. A Romulan freighter entered our space to the east and was very apologetic about it, we've had him turn back."

They reached a thick blast door guarded by two Davion marines in powered armour. Davion's security chief approached them, verified their identities, and they were waved through to the New Avalon War Room.



The assembled officers rose as Davion entered.

"Gentlemen, be seated." Davion said, seating himself in the chair at the head of the table. "Report."

Admiral Robinson stood and took control of the holotank. "When we brought the Merlin system online, we discovered some startling things.

One, that the Exiles have established two colonies in the Zapf system, within striking distance of New Avalon.

Two, that the Exiles have constructed a military frigate in the demilitarised zone between our two nations.

Any one of these acts could be construed as a prelude to invasion and an ironclad cassus belli. Together, they speak ominously about our neighbour's intentions. However, it is not all bad news. The colonies the Exiles have built in our systems appear to be peaceful mining and research colonies, respectively. And one frigate alone is unlikely to be able to overcome the planetary defences of any of our worlds, or carry the troops necessary to defeat our BattleMech regiments."

The Duke of Tresshana spoke. "I believe that this a communications misunderstanding. Cultural differences. Creation of colonies in our space is permitted by our current treaty, and the frigate is most likely just a scout."

Defel emerged from the shadows and spitted the Duke with a glare.

"Unfortunately, our scientists have informed me that that the only way we would be able to know that for certain would be to poke it with a stick and see if it bares its claws."

The Duke began to speak, but the Prince cut him off. "If it comes to that, it'll be a tactical issue. We have borders with the Ur-Quan and the Romulans. I do not want to have to bring our forces back to the galactic west to fight our allies. We will move local forces to secure warp points, for prudence's sake. I will discuss this personally with the High Arbiter. Until then, I would like you all to continue spending your time developing contingency plans in case hostilities do break out."

With that, he rose, and left the room. Defel stuck close by the Prince.

"The Exiles are playing us for fools, my liege."

The First Prince begged to differ. "I don't think so. They're not even mammals. We shouldn't expect them to understand our politics. I trust they'll do the sensible thing when they hear our concerns."

"Our entire nation rests on this trust!"

"Then it will rest well. If they were engaged in a master scheme to conquer us, they would not be nearly so blatant about it. No, this is just the inevitable friction caused when two vastly different societies choose to work together. You, my friend, are jumping at shadows."

Drake bowed his head in acceptance of the point. "Understood, your majesty, though I wish you'd not use that word..."

[Luke Starkiller]

JNS Challenger
Alkar System


"Completing transit in ten seconds, sir."

"Thank you Ensign." Captain Kinis turned to the viewer mounted on the arm of his chair; he never got tired of watching the flare of a warp transit, it was one of the reasons that he had volunteered for a position in the scouting elements of the fleet. This time though, something was different.

"Contacts! We have multiple contacts closing, painting us with targeting lasers, they're launching fighters; request permission to engage, sir."

"We've lost the telemetry link to Homeworld, they're jamming us!"

"Helm, hard over and get us out of here at maximum power; defensive systems free Tac, fire at will as they range on us. Comms, cut power to the long range comm and sensors and push the short range comm to a one-hour overload level, see if we can cut through their jamming and offer to leave the way we came before they blow us to hell."

Kinis leaned back in his seat, knowing his orders would not extend the lives of his crew by more than minutes, at best, and thought about the home he would nev-


Imperial Throne Room
Jargonian Homeworld

"Nothing! Not one word from either government. The only reason we know that anything even happened to our ship is because one Federation Captain had the decency to inform us."

Stepping out of the mass of cringing flunkies one aide spoke up. "The Captain of the Long Island is proof enough that there are good people in the Federation, my Lord. Not only did he inform us of the engagement, he sent us all recoverable bodies and the data recorder from the Challenger."

"One Captain is not a representative sample, nor does he control his government's policy. We will continue our buildup and fortification of the Frontier."

[brianeyci]

Starfleet Academy
Command 101

"...and that is the difference between a mere spaceship captain and a Starship Captain. Captains create and enforce Federation policy throughout the galaxy. There will never be time to contact Earth, and even if possible such contact is discouraged. Captains are expected to exercise their individual moral and professional judgment in the Prime Directive and all General Orders."

"Do you think he'll ever shut up?"

"Sssssh."

"Of course, the Captain is still accountable and his actions subject to command review and possible court martial. This never discourages the Starship Captain. Any Captain is responsible for his actions after the fact, but the equation of life or death should not be altered by fear of later reprimand. The Captain is invincible, always has all the answers, and never hesitates. The Captain confides in no one, and his orders never need to be explained. The Captain is the law. The Captain is Starfleet. The Captain is the Federation. The Captain has the power of life or death over billions. If this makes any of you uncomfortable, you have no business being a starship commander--"

Earth
Undersecretary Bill Renault's Office

"Do you see that stack of papers on my desk?"

"No, sir."

"I have to brief the minister about the... Romulans, Vulcans, Andorians, Tellarites, Betazeds, Bajorans, Ur-Quan, Hiigarans, Exiled, French, Romulans again, Risans, Xindi, and who knows what else, and you're bothering me with... Jargonians?"

"But sir the--"

"Follow procedure and submit it through normal channels before I bust you down to mail room. Who do you think you're working for, Survey?"

"Yes sir."

[Kingside_Bishop]

<...High Arbiter... news from Zapf... it appears as if the Davion are fortifying the system against an assault from our colonies there...>

The High Arbiter's geometric bulk turns the deep, curiously brown color that indicates confusion. <...but why would they do this, Young One...? The Davion are our allies... And our scouts to the galactic east of that system indicate no threats whatsoever to Davion security... No, we are somehow upsetting them, I doubt not...> His colors turn to the aquamarine of resolution. <...I shall shift my orbit, Young One, and relay with their 'Prince,' for no doubt there is some kind of confusion between the two of us...> The multitude of humanoid races in this galaxy were truly mysterious to the Exiles' ways, and, as he moved swiftly over what once was his homeworld, a thought strikes him. It must be the Exile of T'Kra, the voyeur, that has upset them, new form that he is -- and in the demilitarized zone, no less. Surely, the Davions will not object to a new scout's desire to protect himself via a very basic armament... T'Kra is no military being, by any stretch of the imagination... Yet, perhaps the intended purpose of this individual has been misconstrued...

D'Norr's colors indicate the equivalent a shrug, as he shifts into an orbit more suitable for conversation with Prince Davion...

[brianeyci]

USS Sangeway
Cewandi System
Survey Colonizer

Captain Wayne wiped his brow. He'd taken a gamble, sending his ship this far out of known space. They'd been through two nebulas, half of Davion space, and who knows what else, and hadn't found a suitable planet. Or at least, one which would've earned him his place in history.

They were so far out, the comm officer couldn't get a fix on any friendly subspace relay. They could piggyback off the Davions, but what was the point in that? Calling home would be an admission of failure.

"The Romulan ship's still hailing us."

"No response. Continue present course."

Maybe they could find a planet to land on, and drop some weapons platforms. Maybe it'd be a Type M planet.

"Sensors are picking up a world--"

Thank god. "Change course--"

"--it's full of Romulans sir. Millions of them."

So they had blundered into Romulan space. The civilian liason, a Miss Jennings, had her arms crossed and was staring at him.

"We have to talk to the Romulans."

"And give them access to sensitive Federation technology and let them torture our citizens? I'd rather die."

"The people aboard this ship aren't Survey. They're people with families, who don't give a rats ass about sensitive Federation technology. There's nothing on this ship worth dying for. We've got enough replicator rations for five days, and that's it."

"We'll go to warp."

"There's no time." Jennings shook her head. "You have to hail the Romulans."

So this was it. He had gone out too far, too fast. He had been too greedy, and now his ship was to be captured by the enemy. If it was just him -- just Survey -- he would've self-destructed rather than let the ship fall into the wrong hands. But it was more than just him. It was millions of Federation citizens in sterlite, waiting for a new life.

Merchants had been trading between the Romulan and Federation empires for more than a whole stardate now, and what they knew was supposed to be top secret, signed to confidentiality agreements. But Carl in the merchant marine had told him half the things about the Romulans were a sack of lies. For one thing, Romulans didn't have cloak. It seemed a myth, concoted hundreds of years ago to make the pointed-ear cousins of Vulcans more terrifying. Romulans weren't half bad. Like emotional Vulcans, Carl had said. And they didn't hate the Federation. On the contrary, most Romulans had a strange respect for the Federation.

"Open a channel--" Wayne took a breath. "Open a channel to the nearest Romulan ship. Tell them--" Wayne gritted his teeth.

"Tell them we need help."

[GuppyShark]

FSNS
Breaking News

We have received reports that a Davion colony transport has fallen into the Kwok black hole. The crew of the ship beamed a transmission back home only moments before crossing the event horizon. She was carrying ten million passengers at the time of the accident.

Longtime viewers of the program will remember the Kwok system has previously been safely navigated. The people of Vintindrin IV had to travel via the Kwok system to reach their new homes.

At this time it is believed that difficulties in navigating the Zapf->Kwok wormhole caused damage to the ships' ion drives, leaving the ship at the mercy of the dead star.

The Federated Suns government is expected to declare the Kwok system a 'no fly zone', off limits to civilian shipping. If so, that could leave the people of Vintindrin out in the cold, as the Kwok route is currently the only known way to reach them.



Federated Suns Ministry of Transport

The Kwok black hole system has been declared off limits to all non-military personnel, by edict of the First Prince.



Additionally, travel in the Pelagir, Baksha and Narcisston systems is advised against due to recent diplomatic tensions with the Rhak'Thrallan Exiled, as these systems border Pantrissa, which is primarily Rhak'Thrallan territory.

Travellers are also advised to exercise caution in Premius, Butukret, Arkab, Veridian, and Arakkis systems as we have had a few sightings of foreign scout vessels in these border systems.

Travel in the other Davion systems remains unrestricted.



Please stay tuned for an announcement from the First Prince.

[brianeyci]

Federation State

Ambassador Shan sneered. The Vulcans, the humans, were getting the best share of the colony worlds. And the Andorians, the warriors of the Federation, languished.

This was intolerable.

"What do those crystal shaped lunatics say?" Shan asked his aide.

"Apparently sir, they say that they wish the Bukuret system to be--" The aide coughed. "wholy theirs."

"Wholy theirs? Do they take us for fools? I spoke with a High Minister of the Davion Federation and the Bukuret system is clearly marked as Davion on their star charts." The Davion Prince was someone he could respect. He had the stride of a warrior.

"Yes sir, Survey confirms one of their ships has detected several Davion colonies in Bukuret. Well sir, who do we negotiate with?"

Shan gritted his teeth. Another solar system to be given away as the galaxy squabbled because the Federation didn't want to pick fights. The President would hear from him. "Contact the mineral beings and tell them the Davions have told us we may colonize that system." Shan paused. "And tell the Davions the crystalline beings have told us we may colonize that system."

Perhaps it would start an interstellar war. Good, potential rivals to the Federation's ascendancy eliminated through no effort. Exactly what would be needed in this galaxy of miscreants. "Get me the Starfleet Admiralty." It was time to talk about the new Andorian weapons. The Vulcans would not get credit for their discoveries.

[Covenant]

Tesshana System
Hiigaran Relay Station

The Tesshana system served not only as a meetingplace between the Hiigaran, Exile and Davion forces, but also a relay station and monitoring base. It was the largest of it's kind, located far from Hiigaran holdings spinwards, but not so corewards as to infringe upon their Eastern neighbor's privacy. It was a neighborly consideration that may need to be rethought in light of current events.

"Finally, something we can use" the stationmaster sighed with relief. He pressed his thumb into the console, confirming his DNA for the purposes of security and allowing the message to be forwarded to the Davion and Exile allies located in that space, who were also well equipped to forwards messages. An Exile ambassador of sorts was already nearby, though the stationmaster was not at a console where he could see the creature personally. This was regrettable, as he assumed the Exile would have turned an interesting set of colors.

"Seems the Federation is trying to dabble in a little misdirection," he offered to the crystalline entity. "Sending both peoples the same message surely would have caused a bit of confusion. Are we sure of the validity of this communique?"

The response was affirmative, though it took a moment to be recieved. The message itself came from Cretirk, where federation colonists had recently been found without nearly any supplies of their own, having declared independance, and the terrified state had quickly begun negotiations with the Hiigarans. Though their demands were extremely high, the exchange of information was rewarding. Setting up the blockade had also helped matters somewhat, and they had recently recieved word from a group claiming to be able to verify this information, for relatively small compensation. The tip had paid off, and the implications were nauseating.

"They obviously want to exploit the confusing network of planet ownership out here and start a scuffle, possibly even a full-scale war, if you can believe that. Seems that particular message is most likely from something called an Andorian by the name of Shan. Apparently it's classed as an Ambassador, though I wonder how loosely that term is used in Federation space. I never would have considered this mischief the job of a peacemaker."

The Davion Ambassador had probably not yet recieved the message, but it was on it's way there as well, along with calls for a sit-down with the Exiles to expand the treaty the three nations shared.

"We can verify this much," the Stationmaster continued, finalizing his report, "there has been a deliberate attempt at misinformation, and the Federation is meanwhile attempting to negotiate passage rights within Davion space. It seems that they're primarily interested in securing an avenue with which to travel into Romulan space, so we should inform them as well of this incident.

We cannot as yet verify that this was a deliberate attempt to start conflicts, as our sources in Cretirk and Jokala may have us believe. Those claims are, as of yet, coming from presumably untrustworthy sources. They have also asked us to notify Starfleet, but we are wary of that as well, and are going to hold off notifying them that we discovered this deception as it was enroute.

"However," the Stationmaster said, drawing up the paperwork to send another transmission, one intended for the Federation, "I think we should clarify for them that wholly ours is intended to mean Davion as well as you and I, and do it before this gets any more confused." He paused his recording for the Exile, and thought for a moment.

"Regardless, we can no longer presume to guess their reactions, and must be more cautious with allowing them across our borders. I'm to inform them that we've decided to amend our treaty, and reduce our commitment to space sharing back to a more reasonable level of non-aggression, rather than co-habitation. It doesn't seem as if that tight of an alliance is meant to be, and they certainly don't seem to be very honest about it."

He ended his recording, and it began it's encoding process, preparing to be beamed over to the most likely impatient Exile ambassadorial ambassador. The Davion message, having already been recorded in a more offical capacity back on Chazzawar, is sent as well. The message to the Federation, as well as the Romulans, will take another hour to process... but all in all, a busy day for the biggest mail carrier in the sector.

[GuppyShark]

"This is going to be a long night," Drake groused.

"We have to have this report ready for the Prince by the time he finishes his state dinner. How is that a long night?" Charles asked. Charles Sandoval was a minor son of a noble family, and he was on Drake's staff as a favor to the Sandovals. Thankfully, the kid was a master at understanding scientific techno-jargon that left Drake bewildered, so it was far from a complete loss.

"Because our night won't end at that. The Prince'll want us to stay on top of developments after he makes his response."

"Oh," Charles replied. "Better call the wife."

"Yes, you'd better."

--

"Good evening, First Prince," Drake bowed deeply, having finally been ushered into the throne room. The First Prince rose from the throne and approached him.

"And to you, Drake. What do you have for me?"

"There seems to have been a minor diplomatic negotiation that has escalated and now the parties involved have come to us for our support.

It concerns the Butukret & Fezzran systems, to the south. Fezzran is the flashpoint - the Federation of Planets on one hand and our Rhak'Thrallan & Kushan allies on the other."

"The Federation of Planets are a recent acquaintance. They're human beings, and their scientific progress is astounding."

"Yes, your grace. They too claim to be descendants of Earth. They laid claim to Fezzran, and so did our allies. In the progress of negotiations, the Exiles claimed Butukret was wholly theirs, though we have a message from the High Arbiter claiming it was a snap comment taken out of context and they make no such claim to our system. The other parties have messages us privately as well, each asking us to help secure their claim. It is a bit confused - we've got a recent communication from the Federation Ambassador stating the Exiles granted the UFP permission to colonise Butukret, and it wasn't the UFP that told us about the Exile faux pas."

First Prince Aris Davion, ruler of the Federated Suns, Duke of New Avalon, First Lord of the Star League, and Supreme Marshal of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns, threw his hands up in the air and let out a groan of disgust.

"Unbelievable! I'm starting to wish I'd never agreed to let anyone colonise our territory in the first place. All they ever do is request permission to militarise, ignore our instructions to declare their colonies, and ask us to deny colonisation rights to others."

Drake Defel stood at ease and waited for the Prince to cool down. Aris was still young, by history's standards, and prone to speak where a wiser man would listen.

"Not that we've anything to show for it." Aris began to pace the room. "Their territories are devoid of planets we can build anything more than a barren, domed research outpost on, but they're able to build prosperous communities on our gas giants and iceballs. We've bought allies - allies who have yet to offer us anything in return for our generosity."

"We have our honour," Drake offered. "The colonisation treaties were signed before the imbalance in territorial holdings was known to either party. It would not be just to pull out of them merely because they benefit our allies more than ourselves."

"Yes, of course," Aris nodded.

"However, the undiplomatic behaviour of the Exiles continues to cause trouble. I do not know how many more times we can accept 'Sorry' before we start to look like fools."

"I'm glad you didn't say that in public, Drake," Aris said, a smile breaking across his face.

"That's what you keep me around for. I believe that this comment from the Exiles betrays their motives. The settlements in our home system, enabling them to observe our military production. The space yard in Pelagir. Calling our territory theirs in negotiations with other empires."

"You've made this accusation before. It could also indicate that we they feel we are such close allies that the distinction is meaningless."

"That's a possibility."

"Allright, I guess I'd better sort this out. Get the speech writers together. Send a message for the Exiles, Federation of Planets & Hiigarans. The Federated Suns does not have a colony in the Fezzran system, and so cannot currently file a claim for the system, by the conventions of interstellar law.

Butukret belongs to the Davion crown. Any who wish to colonise this system must do so with the permission of the First Prince.

As First Prince I hope the nations involved in the Fezzran dispute can find a peaceful solution, etcetera etcetera."

Drake bowed, and smiled. "At once."

[Kingside_Bishop]

Tesshana System
Stardate 2402.1

The rainbow hue of the Exiled communication is visible to everyone, throughout the system, as the Rhak'Thrallan react to this most recent interstellar crisis. Dozens of small satellites orbit the central pillar that is B'Vrak, Arbiter of the diplomatically central Tesshana system, as the full spectrum of colors shouts across the plain black of the void.

The Arbitter, in the white shade of complete attention: <...What is the situation, Brothers...?>

Orange: <...Arbiter, the situation is escalating -- the Hiigarans send word that the Federation is engaged in a ploy to start an interstellar war between the Davion and ourselves, not only sharing the potentially inflamatory remark of the recently raised Arbiter of Fezzran, but also implying that that same Arbiter granted colonization rights to the Federation in the Butukret system...>

Purple: <...Impossible, for two reasons. First, such a decision would not be made by Q'Wrek -- the decision to grant colonization rights to the Butukret system, were it even our space, would fall upon Arbiter T'Zen, of Butukret. Q'Wrek could not grant it. In addition, both T'Zen and Q'Wrek have been informed that they are to show nothing but the utmost respect for our Davion neighbors, and are fully aware that they have no administrative rights in Butukret beyond ensuring the successful growth of the communities there...>

Blue: <...Which brings us to our next point, Arbitter B'Vrak: the Davion. We have received a short list of grieviances they have supplied to us. After analyzing the list, the Penitent -- alien specialists as they are -- have reported that they are completely and wholly justified. The exile of T'Kra -- an armed scout -- was, by Davion standards (if not our own), in direct violation of the mutual non-militarization treaty that was to be in place in both the Pantrissa and Pelagir systems. Furthermore, the Descension of Exiled in the Zapf system has put the Davion worlds on edge -- apparently, that is the equivalent of their homeworld, and I remind you, Arbiter, how viciously we defend the Bandomeer and Praxis systems. In addition to the recent misunderstandings over the Fezzran and Butukret systems, the Davions aren't particularly trusting of our kind -- and rightfully so... Our request for militarization rights in border worlds among Davion systems was denied.>

B'Vrak remains receptive during this, pausing in his contemplation only to ask a question: <...What are the recommendations? How can we strengthen the bond between the Davions and ourselves...?>

Green: <...The Davion ambassadors carry a messgae that, should we feel the need for extra security along Davion border worlds, we could place several Exiled under their command. I believe they would be willing to swear an oath that these vessells would be used for the protection of the indicated space, Arbiter, and the Davion have been nothing if not true to their word from the very beginning -- open and honest, in all things...>

The Arbiter flashes the deep browns of resolution: <...Very well. Begin the construction of a small Tribe to be placed under Davion command. Procure the most diplomatic of us that you can, and inform the Prince's ambassador here in Tesshana that we accept his offer, and that a... "Fleet..." of Rhak'Thrallan Exiled will be gifted to him in the Pantrissa system. Inform him also that among this fleet will be the Exiled that offended his population in that system, and that the Rhak'Thrallan will also contribute to the upkeep of this fleet...>

Brown: <...And the Federation, Arbiter? They have abandoned colonies in the Cretirk and Jokala systems -- colonies which are turning hostile, though the Hiigarans are negotiating with them... And what of this recent lie...?>

Arbiter B'Vrak begins to scintillate, a sign of agitation amongst the Rhak'Thrallan. <...They are not threatening us directly, young one, though they appear to be attempting to start some kind of conflict external to themselves, using whatever means is available to them. This most recent crisis, for example, is an obvious ploy to escallate tensions between ourselves and the Davion, weakening both parties and ensuring an easier victory for the Federation, should they see an opportunity to grasp at one... We must simply remain steadfast to our allies, and mend the broken relations between the Davion and ourselves, to destroy the Federation's ambitions...>

[Arthur_Tuxedo]

Arthurius signed the order to accept the colony ship full of Federation citizens as refugees. This was the best thing that had happened all year. By granting these humans full Romulan citizenship and allowing them to filter into every Romulan colony, the Federation would be killing millions of their own people if they ever bombarded a Romulan world, something that they would never do according to their treaty, which Arthurius valued roughly as much as a roll of used toilet paper.

That matter taken care of, Arthurius turned his attention to the unfolding drama involving the Federation and Rhak'Thrallans in regard to the Davion. He had heard some fairly disturbing reports about the Federation seeking free passage through Davion space. As long as he could deny them those rights, the Federation invasion plans would be on indefinite hold, as the southern route would take much longer and go through multiple different empires' space, including Rhak'Thrallan and Hiigaran space. Arthurius could not let the Federation be granted free passage. He drafted a message:

Dear Prince Defel,

I have heard through reliable channels that the Federation is in talks to secure passage through Davion space and into Romulan territory. This would be ruinous for the security of the Romulan nation, as well as for the relationship between our two nations. We urge you not to grant such access to the Federation for them to misuse as they please.

Kindest regards,
Praetor Arthurius

[brianeyci]

And we go live now to Starfleet Command, where head of Starfleet Security Admiral Trevalyen, is about to give a news conference...

"Thank you ladies and gentlemen. As you already know, a Federation Survey Vessel lost contact with Starfleet Headquarters last stardate. The Romulans have refused us access to our personnel, and are interrogating them as we speak. We have no indication as to the welfare of the Captain, crew or citizens on the spaceship. The Federation fully expects the Romulans to return Federation state property as soon as possible. Thank you."

Trevalyen stepped off the podium. None of it was true of course. Survey Captains rarely reported in and considered it a disgrace to do so. They didn't even report to Starfleet. Nevermind Yates had showed him the fuel projections and likely the Captain had no choice but to hail the Romulans for replicator power. Nevertheless, white lies were a small price to pay to prepare an unwitting populace for interstellar war. One day, perhaps next year, perhaps a decade from now, the Romulan Star Empire and United Federation of Planets would clash. And when that time came, the sheep had to know what the Romulans were capable of. The Tomed Incident, the Picard Incident and others were ancient history to most, but Trevalyen knew his history. And the Federation would put the Romulans in their place, just like the Vulcans.

Office of the President of the Federation

"Starfleet Security has prepared a contingency plan if evidence surfaces of Romulan mistreatment of our citizens. We've prepared Operation Retrieve based on the rising threat of terrorism between the Romulan and Federation star empires," Trevalyen said. "We can go in, rescue the hostages, and be out with an acceptable loss in manpower and equipment. We have the technology to--"

Antiphos III

Name : Pardet
Species: Romulan
Age : 115
Profession : Scientist, Retired
Specialty : Plasma Weapons Delivery
Orders : Code One Capture and Interrogate, Orders signed Vice Admiral Trevalyen, Starfleet Security.

Pardet stared out his balcony at the rising yellow sun. The space the humans had assigned him and his family was modest. Not everybody had agreed with Praetor Arthurius's economic and scientific reforms. Some scientists had called it insanity, attempting a temporal and spatial shift to another dimension with experimental technology. And now the Romulan Star Empire was a husk of its former self. Millions of Romulans had left Romulus over the past few stardates, intellectuals, adventurers and people tired of the Praetor's mad schemes.

Some went to Ur-Quan space, others to the nearby Galactic Empire. But Pardet and his family accepted an offer from strange reptilians known as Suran. He'd been afraid the Tal'Shiar would disappear him. Eighty years ago, he was the brilliant mind in charge of the Tak'Reket Weapons facility, which had revolutionized Romulan warships with the most powerful weapon in known space -- the Plasma Torpedo. But the Tal'Shiar had their hands full supressing revolutionaries and protecting Arthurius's regime after the disaster, and Pardet had easily escaped using a fake name with his grandson and extended family.

When they arrived in Suranian space, Pardet and his family were surprised to find humans. Humans, everywhere. Humans of all shapes and sizes. Apparently the Humans and the Suran were close allies. It seemed only yesterday that he was designing weapon of mass destruction to kill as many humans as possible, and now they lived next door to two human families. The Suran had left and the humans had arrived, en masse.

So it was that eleven million Romulans lived in a colony ruled by the Federation.

Pardet lowered his gaze to street level. A line of two dozen hovercars dove from the horizon and sped towards his villa. In a minute they were below the balcony, and dozens of men leapt from the cars, establishing a perimeter around his home.

It seemed there was no escaping his destiny. Pardet glanced at the ancient disruptor pistol on his desk. No use. The weapon would not work, not in this universe. At least Par'mek and the child were out shopping.

The humans streamed through the door and surrounded him.

"Are you Pardet?" A human said in perfect Romulan.

"Yes, I am."

"Do not resist. At your age, a stun shot is lethal."

Pardet laughed. If the humans wanted a plasma torpedo, he would give it to them. Not that he had much of a choice. Humans on the surface were kind and compassionate, but below the veneer of altruism humans could be as brutal as Romulans. If the stories of the Tal'Shiar about Section 31 were true, Pardet would be drugged and mind probed until he had given up everything he ever knew. "I will come," Pardet said.

Over the years Pardet had learned honor, pride, even treason, mattered little. The only thing that mattered when you were this old was family. And he had his entire extended family on Antiphos III, his grandson who knew nothing of his past, and his beautiful granddaughter. "I will come," Pardet said, "If you leave my family be. They must know nothing."

"Then come," the Agent said. "Your family will not be harmed. You will remain in contact with them if you cooperate."

Pardet turned around and the humans surrounded him, escorting him from the villa to an unmarked hovercar.

[Arthur_Tuxedo]

"All ships in the attack fleet, this is Admiral Licinius, transit the warp point on my mark. 3... 2... 1... MARK!"

The attack fleet streamed through the warp point and into Eris space. A large group of fighters was waiting for them, some of them probably responsible for the slaughter of 4 million Romulan citizens on the colony ship. As they all streamed forward, energy beams streaked from the Romulan Gladius-class frigates, each hit consuming the unlucky fighter pilots and their craft in their entirety. An Eris frigate retreated from the battle, launching a different kind of craft behind it. Larger than fighters, but smaller than ships, these fast, heavily armored craft had a curious shape to their noses. Almost like a warhead...

"All ships, all ships! We have kamikaze cruise missiles inbound. Priority target all cruise missiles!" Licinius screamed, but not fast enough. A gladius was hit by several drones and consumed as its reactor went critical. Energy beams sallied out with renewed force as desperate ship captains pushed their systems to the breaking point to squeeze every ounce of power out. Soon, every drone and fighter was destroyed.

"Set course for that colony, and prep the troops. Let's show these gas freaks what our soldiers can do."

[Arthur_Tuxedo]

Thanks to a recent breakthrough in FTL communications, Arthurius was able to watch the battle in real time.

Arthurius was pleased. The Eris must not have been expecting an attack so soon and so suddenly. Licinius may have been disheartened about the loss of one of the Gladius frigates, but he was a dedicated military commander and felt the loss of every ship or soldier deeply. Arthurius knew that one ship was a small price to pay for smashing through a fortified warp point.

Arthurius watched as the fleet continued toward the nearby colony, sweeping aside the fighter defenses with their energy beams and dropping troops. The ground battle was a very brief and very brutal slaughter as his squadrons overwhelmed the skeleton crew that had been garrisoned on the planet.

Arthurius smiled at the quick victory, but then frowned. The Eris would know what to expect now, and future victories would not come so easily. Arthurius felt a sudden need to make sure all the shipyards were running at full capacity.

[Kingside_Bishop]

Beeblebrox System
Arbiter D'Ren

The crystalline being glided through the thresshold, and experienced the gripping sensation of warp travel yet again -- always unnerving, especially for an unprotected being, such as a Rhak'Thrallan. The lights faded, and the diziness vanished, as the tremendous bulk of the newly raised Arbiter transitted the warp point, exploring the heretoforth unknown system of Beeblebrox.

Immediately, the luminosensors that served the enigmatic being as eyes detected the presence of a stranger -- or, more appropriately, millions of strangers, inhabitting the hellish sphere of one of the volcano worlds. Another race, tied to a terrestrial existence.

D'Ren wonders quietly to himself if the Exiled will ever run into anything similar to themselves. Prior to the experiences of the last two years, the potential existence of other inteligent beings was thought a ridiculous idea -- but, any idea that weren't thought to be ridiulous revolved around relatively minor variations of the Rhak'Thrallans' own forms. As it turns out, they're actually quite the rarity... oddities, even.

Giving the Rhak'Thrallan equivalent of a shrug, the new Arbiter begins transmitting coded light patterns towards the Ur-Quan colony in Beeblebrox.

[Trogdor]

Sa-Varsa
Chamber of the Advisory Board

The Advisory Board had recently aquired a new member: Marcus, representative of the Hierarchy's Romulan population. The Romulans had been the first group to both reach the neccessary number of people and to navigate past all the red tape the Board had thrown up to delay the inception of new Advisors.

They soon found out that Advisor Marcus was cold, calculating, and brutal. DAK had made some comment about how he'd probably push to have the Romulans in the Quesstris system moved to a system further away from the Federation.

Marcus' response perfectly characterized him. "No. They should remain. Having so many of my people so near makes the Federation nervous. And if they ever do strike those worlds and kill the Romulans there, the Star Empire will practically be forced to act."

DOS 1.0 liked him immediately.

He did not, however, trust him. In fact he strongly suspected that Marcus reported back to the Praetor or the Tal'Shiar, or perhaps both.

"The Romulans have launched an attack on the Eris," Gorgon said, using his many arms to hand out the intel reports. "They have broken through a fortified warp point and conquered an Eris planet."

"The Praetor never hid his dislike for the Eris from you," Marcus said coolly.

"True, but the Eris are allies of ours. We have millions of them living on our hydrogen worlds, outnumbering the other Hierarchy races put together in some cases," DAK said.

"The Thirteen and Master One are debating whether or not to remove the other races so the domes can be taken down," Gorgon added. "There will likely be a Nirix Advisor on this board in a month or two."

"We will need the Star Empire if a conflict is ever to break out against the Federation," Marcus said, "and given the current makeup of the UFP government and Starfleet Command, it seems entirely plausible that may happen. We already have Nirix to breathe hydrogen. The termination of the alliance with the Eris would be no great loss."

"Enough," DOS 1.0 said calmly. "The Romulans have yet to request help from us. If they or the Eris contact us and ask us to pick side, we'll reopen this matter, but until then I move we stay neutral and table this debate."

DAK seconded the motion and a majority of the Board voted in favor.

"Now," DOS 1.0 said, "what to do about the Exiled colony ship?"

"The First Armada is near there!" Bronk exclaimed. "We can easily destroy them in glorious battle!"

"An armada against one colony ship would hardly be what I'd call a glorious battle," Nargle said disdainfully. "Besides, Master One would never authorize it."

"They want a planet in our space. We'll see what they can offer us in exchange," DAK said. "If it's good, we'll take it. If not, we'll veto any deal the Thirteen tries to make and send them packing. That simple."

[Nephtys]

Astro Lyons Space Command, Deep within the Dodecagon...

"We can't sit still on this! Mon Dieu, it's an overt act of aggression agaisnt nous neighbour!"

The War Room was quiet as the words echoed through it's cavernous space. Each of the Admirals, Generals and Nobles seated about the ringed table lowered their heads in thought.

Chief of Naval Construction Francois Dubois was the first to speak up. "Our new Vangarde fleet is now operational. We should make use of it to intervene on ze behalf of our neigbhour."

"C'est Madness!" called out Count Durfort of the foreign office. "We cannot risk war at this time. And certainly not to the Erisians, who we've had troubles with before."

The room broke out into a rabble as Frenchman shouted at Frenchman. Admiral Molyneux pointed a menacing finger at Durfort, shouting a yell of of "Madness?! C'est France!"

Admiral Laroche of Frontier Command gestured dramatically at The Big Board, already lighting up with news of the battle. "Lord Bouvier! We must get involved, zis position of calculated cowardice is untenable." he grimmaced. "Our Fleet can defeat any other, any where!"

More shouting echoed through the room, with the background of pounding of fists on table before the main doors blew open. The Empress of France herself stepped through, long gown behind her and livid.

"Since when were my most trusted admirals mere children?!" she gritted her teeth. "Prepare our fleets. Admiral Larouche, you will command the First Fleet. But do not launch without my express authority. I will handle this my way, comprenez-vous?!"

With a hard swallows, the room sank to silence as the Empress sat herself at an empty seat, daring anyone to challenge her right to oversee this meeting. After the awkward silence, she gave her first order.

"Open our comm channels on the big board."

[brianeyci]

Lyrae System

"This is an outrage!" Someone said from the assembled delegates. Administrator Vreen squinted to make out who, but everybody was shaking their heads in agreement nevertheless.

"The Nirix refugees arrived from Suranian space," Dregos said from the front row. "We have no obligation to house or feed them. They're not even Federation citizens. They can't even breathe the air outside!"

"As long as they live in our world, we are obligated to provide assistance," a Vulcan said.

"But at what cost? If we didn't need to grow special food, provide special housing, give special privileges to the Nirix, our colony would be booming. Your own vaunted Vulcan scientists say five times as efficient. Five times. Five times more food, five times more living space, five times more amenities, five times--"

"Enough." Vreen slammed his gavel. "I will contact Earth."

Everybody groaned with disapproval.

"If Earth makes the decision," Vreen said, "They will be responsible for it. If we do not have enough food, they will send it." Of course the underlying logic was, if Earth decided to ship the Nirix out, they would take the political fallout of denying refugees Federation citizenship. He could imagine the headlines now: Federation colony jettisons undesirables. Not that he had not thought of jettisonning the Nirix. Their alien mannerisms and the amount of sacrifices every colonist had to make just to keep the Nirix alive slowed construction and progress to a crawl.

Governor Kodos was centuries ago, but colony administrators in the Federation still had the power of life or death over colonists and could order them killed in extreme circumstances to conserve food and water in an emergency. This was no emergency, not yet, but if the Nirix continued to consume more than fifty percent of the colony resources...

"And if Earth tells us they don't care?"

"Earth always cares," Vreen said. "If there is one thing Starfleet is good for, it is meddling. We are not bound to their ruling regardless, so we lose nothing."

Murmurs of approval. Good. These simpletons understood. It was not easy running a colony of millions.

[brianeyci]

Code: Select all

"Hello Praetor. If your slaves have done their jobs right, you are now in possession of this message. Do not attempt to reply or make this message public. We are not the same as the fool who calls himself President, the administration, or even Starfleet.

We know the Romulans are technologically backwards. We know you don't have cloaks, don't have disruptors, and don't have even the smallest ability to threaten the rest of the galaxy. We know you've been trying to hide this from the Federation. But the Federation knows. 

We have planted hundreds of trilithium biological warheads on Antiphos III. What's so special about Antiphos III? There's Romulans. Millions of them. At a touch of a button, eleven million Romulans will die an extremely painful death. I've been told it feels like fire. Others have told me it's as if their lungs explode, their skin peels and their heart seizes all at once.

Attempt to inform Starfleet, and we detonate the devices. Do not think that Federation citizens will stop us. We have killed our own people for the good of the Federation before, with ease.

This is what we want from you Praetor. Don't hurt any of the Federation colonists. If we ever so much of hear gossip about you treating those civilians like Remans, or your own personal vassals, Antiphos III will just be the start.

You are so predictable Praetor. We know of your plans. So don't be stupid. We are watching you.

[Kingside_Bishop]

Narcisston IV
Stardate 2402.5

"Yep, it's a prison world. Just look at that ice." The man points to some frost growing rapidly along the hull of the bulk transport, as he's prodded by the guards towards the aft end of the vessel. "We're going to freeze to death." He rubs his arms against himself for warmth, and spits, but the saliva turns to ice as soon as it leaves his mouth, and shatters on the frozen surface of the vessel. A guard descends a staircase behind the gaggle of prisoners, and throws a bag to the metalic floor of the barge, opening it to reveal a pile of heavy winter gear. "Suit up, boys, you're goin' home," he says.

Once the excommunicated Federation citizens are dressed for the occasion, the ramp leading to the landing site lowers, and a rush of frigid air fills the cargo bay, taking the humans' breath away. As they're led down the ramp, the reflective surface of the planet immediately wrenches their attention from the cold, to the beauty surrounding them. "What the hell...?"

Instead of a frozen tundra, and a lonely dome in the distance, the prisoners' eyes meet with a landscape of scintilating colors that span the entire visible spectrum, being the reflections and refractions of thousands of crystalline growths, covering the landscape. The air isn't frigid at all, surrounding these crystals... instead, the crystals seem to give off warmth -- or maybe it's that they're absorbing the cold. But either way, the temperature, while no sunny day, is certainly bearable within the winter coats provided by the guards.

"Have a good life, boys," the ship's warden says, with a wave, as he mounts his shoddy little vessel once more. As the transport lifts through the thin, but oxygen rich atmosphere, the ground below them -- the only clear ground for as fas as the eye can see -- begins to shift, and before long, an opening as wide as the prison ship appears, causing the men to shift to the outer edge of the clearing.

From inside this opening, a group of crystals -- similar in structure to those on the surface of the planet -- hover near to the men, and begin displaying a shifting pattern of colors. Several among them, much smaller than the rest, move among the prisoners, taking their manacles in their maws and shattering their chains. The universal translator each prisoner was equipped with begins to chirp, and before long, to speak:

"...Follow..."

Trailing their crystalline guides deep under ground, the humans pass through corridors, maze-like tunnels, lighted by the crystal of which they are composed. Finally, they pass into a large hall, where they come face to face with other humans -- not Federation, these, but Davion. There are Romulans, too -- a fact that does not bode well for these humans. There are even members of the Ur'Quan races, in all of their insectile variability, much to the confusion of the Federation refuse. Over this confused mass hover several of the crystalline beings, trying their best to keep order.

Suddenly, the translators chirp again, and another message comes through, louder than before, and spoken in the many languages that hold sway in the room: "Criminals..." -a word which causes many among the men to sneer- "...you are here because of your crimes against your own species, too heinuous to communicate... Execution was to be your fate... A bloody death, for bloody crimes, and completely deserved, all agree..."

He continues: "But, this need not be your fate. At the request of the High Arbiter, D'Norr, your executions have been stayed, and you have instead been dispatched to our worlds -- your peoples will be free of your malevolent atrocities, but you will be given a chance to redeem yourselves, and to contribute, once again, to a meaningful society... And to the protection of what may, one day, become your own brotherhood..."

"You have only to accept..."

That evening, the arrived prisoners -- Human, Romulan, Ur'Quan, all -- are given a choice: become contributing members of society, through the violence that they have in the past used if necessary, or face the execution that they deserve. In the morning, several thousand of each species are ejected into the void -- but millions more are assigned living quarters, where they will learn to live in harmony with one another, or themselves face death.

[Arthur_Tuxedo]

Millions of Romulan troops and fighters converged on the skeleton crew defending the planet. This was simply too easy, thought Admiral Licinius with a smug smile. As the ground battle unfolded, Licinius' smile vanished abruptly. More drone pods were inbound, but not just the relatively small number that his fleet had faced before. Licinius got to one hundred and stopped counting. Knowing this would be his last stand, Licinius turned to the captain of the flagship. "You know what to do," the man nodded grimly and began giving orders.

The mass of drones came within firing range of the Romulan Gladius fleet, whose numbers had swelled to almost 40 warships. The frigates poured out a prodigious amount of beam fire, but the drones kept coming. Each drone took shot after shot unphased and slammed into the ships. The first drone would buckle the shields and the second one would burrow deep into the ship, destroying the quantum singularity containment field and causing a small gamma ray burst that consumed the ships in their entirety. The blasts from exploding ships and drones briefly turned the too-small battlefield into a white hot area of space. Soon it was all over. The drone fleet had been decimated, reduced to a fraction of their original strength, but the Gladius fleet was no more, and the troop transports and repair ships fled the area with their engines on full burn. The drones swiveled about and started to pursue.



* * *

Back on Romulus, Arthurius sat and brooded. The messenger had handed him the news of the fleets destruction with the tips of his fingers, ready to flee before the Praetor could have him killed. Rather than flying into a rage, Arthurius just stared at the report for a long time, long enough for the messenger to successfully tiptoe out of the room. The Romulans had been dealt a major defeat, today, and the Praetor had only himself to blame. A lesser despot might have rounded people up for execution, but Arthurius knew he couldn't afford to squander a single military mind in the coming months. Unless he missed his guess, there would be a counter attack coming, and they would need to be ready for it. After that, he would need to decide whether to continue this war or try to make nice with the Eris. With the reports he had heard about a Davion ship destroying a Romulan scout were true, he might be looking at a two front war that he was not at all eager to fight.

[Trogdor]

"This just in, the dome protecting the Hierarchy population on Contra I has just ruptured. That makes the tenth dome to fail so far this month. Emergency relief crews are moving to save the oxygen breathing population but are already streched to the breaking point.

"The cause of the failure of the domes remains unknown. Experts are speculating everything from flaws in the construction process at Industrial Glass to terrorism. The death toll-"

DOS 1.0 snapped off the television and took a sip of his drink. "This is good," he commented. "What do you call it?"

"Romulan ale. Or just ale when you're in the Star Empire," Marcus said jovially.

"The fools are casting blame for this everywhere except where it belongs," Genocide's Talking Pet said.

"Well who would suspect some of the leaders of the Hierarchy?" Marcus asked.

"The Federation," DOS 1.0 snickered, "but after some of the stunts they've pulled, people won't believe them if they said water's wet without checking first."

"None of the other nations will prod much," Marcus said, "None of their people were hurt. And no one within the Hierarchy will be able to find proof leading the 'disaster' back to us, not even the other Advisors or the Thirteen. We've hid our tracks well. If anyone finds anything, it'll lead them to 'terrorist' cells."

"And now we can finally make use of all the resources our planets have to offer," DOS 1.0 said. "Hopefully it will allow us to remain competitive with larger nations."

"Productivity is already expected to spike soon," Genocide put in. "The deaths of those people will purchase the safety of the Hierarchy."

[brianeyci]

Starfleet Command

"And so," Admiral Yatashi said, "the Romulan invasion force was defeated." The smuggled holographic projections showed the hordes of cruise missiles slamming into the Romulan warships with brutal efficiency. The missiles absorbed disruptor hit after hit. The assembled admirals looked at each other, as if wishing the Romulans had put up a better fight.

Trevalyen coughed. "The Romulans haven't learned their lesson."

Yatashi raised an eyebrow. The man was too much like the Vulcans. "Oh?"

"The Federation employed similar defenses around Sector Zero-Zero-One a century ago, the Mars Defense Perimeter. We can easily recreate automated drone defenses to halt Romulan incursions."

Yatashi shook his head. "Starfleet Research is working on everything from plasma weapons to torpedoes to phasers. I don't think--"

"With all due respect," Trevalyen said, "Starfleet Research is not our only option. The Vulcans, Andorians, and civilian research labs."

"You're suggesting outsourcing our sensitive weapons research?"

"And why not." Trevalyen tapped a console, and a graph appeared. "The Ur-Quan, our closest neighbors, have four times less economic resources."

"You're suggesting," Yatashi said, "An arms race."

"Starfleet Intelligence estimates Federation research to be twice as effective in all areas, including the critical areas of weapons, shields and armor. Even if we kept our military spending constant, the Ur-Quan would be hard pressed to keep up. Our latest intelligence reports reveal the Ur-Quan have four hundred kiloton plasma weapons. Our own plasma weapons already surpass this yield, and we've barely concentrated on the field at all."

"You want to spend them to death," Yatashi said. "I like it. Better than dead bodies. I'll discuss it with the President."

Yatashi, taking his glory again. "I have some figures I'd like the President to go over."

"Are such measures truly necessary? The Ur-Quan have been quite cordial and have even allowed us to place a satellite in the Quesstris system," Admiral Sa'vak of the Vulcan High Command said.

"Only after we allowed satellites in three Federation systems in return," Trevalyen said.

"Enough," Yatashi said. "Onto other matters. Admiral Trevalyen, is it true your people are holding an Ur-Quan national?"

How the hell? "Yes. He's been in our custody since the intervention on Quesstris II."

"Release him immediately," Yatashi said.

"It's not so simple," Trevalyen said. "The Federation signed an agreement with the national to give him one Type II freighter--"

"Fine, give him the garbage scow. The last thing we need is a diplomatic incident."

"That," Trevalyen said, "Might be unavoidable. Starfleet Security's learned of incidents in Ur-Quan space causing thousands, perhaps millions of deaths. If you will look over here--"

[Arthur_Tuxedo]

Open broadcast:

This is Praetor Arthurius of the Romulan Star Empire. Due to changing circumstances, we have updated our list of protected borders. The Quikil -> Cribit, Kinkaria -> Arrakis, and Gretok -> Kartogia borders contain mines. Please do not pass through any protected border, especially those containing mines, without first securing official permission and / or minecodes.

[brianeyci]

"...without first securing official permission or minecodes."

Click. The Romulans, with their minefields and borders and neutral zones. "How is Project 56 coming along?" Trevalyen said

"Fine sir. Warhead yield's been increased by more than triple. But sir, don't you think we should--"

"--declare our minefields like the Romulans?" Trevalyen said. "And what purpose would that serve?"

"Civilian ships could--"

"Civilian ships are small enough to pass through minefields for galactic trade just fine without broadcasting the locations of all our mines. So-called colony ships could be invasion forces. Under no circumstances are the locations of Federation minefields to be declassified."

"Yes sir. General Order 104 is on your desk now."

General Order 104. A standing order drafted by Yatashi to disable, not destroy, enemy warships. A stupid policy. A ship was not a mission kill until its warp core was breached. But still, this could be blessing in disguise. "Book an appointment with Colonel Weston." If ships were ever to be disabled, Starfleet Security would be the first to beam aboard and capture them. And a small contingent of Starfleet Security aboard every Federation ship could prove... advantageous.