Collision:

Planet Earth: Alhambra High School, Alhambra, California September 2nd 1999 A.D. Old Gregorian Earth Calendar. 7:57 AM Pacific Standard Time.


The Umbral walked the halls of what these humans laughably considered a school. It strained credulity to think that in the future, as these humans would consider it, they were the biggest threat to the Devidians plans. They also happened to be the most delicious life forms its people had ever tasted. Their neural energy so alive with vibrant passion and hope yet so subtly nuanced with insecurity and doubt. Nothing sustained its people so completely yet left them craving more. Klingon’s neural energies were far too spicy with overabundant amounts of unmitigated hostility and animal rage while Vulcanoids, though secretly very passionate in their own right, had the pesky ability to resist most neural attacks by virtue of their extensive mental discipline.


How these marginally advanced primates ever came by such mental potential let alone will realize it is beyond me, it thought. Biologically inferior to most races in this part of the galaxy this odd little species had narrowly averted their own self destruction time and again and, should her mission fail, would go on to be one of the dominant powers in the quadrant and eventually beyond. To the Umbral’s non-linear point of view this was already happening. Humans, their allies and even their enemies were driving back their hunters, closing portals and laying siege to their beautiful triolic realm.


No, thought the Umbral. I know know full well how these creatures have defied the laws of probability. They are watched and guided by forces they can scarcely yet imagine. Theirs was not the first species whose development was guided, manipulated, stunted or accelerated by more powerful beings. Not to mention the continual meddling of their own time traveling descendants. The Aegis, the First Federation, the Sky Spirits and even the Q took an very annoying interest in this undistinguished little race, which made its job and the job of its fellow hunters and infiltrators all the more difficult.

It hated this realm and everything about it. The form it was forced to take had to move by putting one of leg in front of the other on the ground instead of simple and efficient levitation. The crude sensory organs picked up on only the tiniest fraction of what was going on all around them. Lost in her musings it almost didn’t see the youngling about to barrel into it until it was too late. With only a thought it channeled some of its triolic energy into a kinetic barrier directly in front of its body.

The youngling ran straight into the barrier which to its own interphasic senses appeared to flare blue and white momentarily blinding those senses before knocking him onto the ground.

Adopting a stern expression that was not entirely unfelt, the Umbral recognized the youngling male as one of its “students.” Well, one of her students and she's quite dead now, but I have nothing to teach any of these cattle that they would ever be able to understand. Still it had a part to play if it was to remain inconspicuous and accomplish its mission. The youngling’s T-shirt was the same hue as the Umbral’s own wondrous cerulean realm.

It momentarily felt a pang of longing for the peace and tranquility of that existence. After properly chastising the youngling for a failure to properly observe and account for the obvious constrains of such a ridiculously linear existence. How could these beings not be acutely aware of the passage of time in one direction when their puny existences were so incredibly finite?

The boy, yes it was boy, not youngling I must remember to take gender into account, communicated a hurried response of contrition before moving around it and running off to class. From the corner of one of its crude visual organs’ range of perception, the Umbral caught a brief flash of coruscating light very similar to the temporal oscillations of chroniton particles. The Umbral instantly switched its perceptions back into the full interphasic spectrum only to find no trace of any sort of chronal disturbance.

It must be the chaotic light spectrum of this plane, it thought. The harsh photonic, sonic and gravitic forces of this realm was enough to make it physically ill, if it had anything approaching a humanoid digestive system. The plan would soon be implemented and its people would feast on humanity for many eons to come.

You have a true talent for storytelling. :)

Quote by Jacien

I wanted to share this fantastic website I came across that contains a variety of different terms and plot tools that might give our new crop of fan-fic writers some excellent tools for their stories.


http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HomePage


It includes examples of various plot devices and formats for different types of narratives and dialogues. It's primarily for TV and movies but they do have a lists of books (many Star Trek) and a breakdown of what devices and formats were used in each so they can easily be adapted to your individual style of storytelling. I can't tell you what a help it has been to me both personally and professionally when I write.

Enjoy :)

I hope this helps my writing. I have been struggling at remembering bits I wrote yesterday and keep having to go back through it. Thanks for the Find!

Dumbledore was gay!

Congratulations Traull!

I wanted to share this fantastic website I came across that contains a variety of different terms and plot tools that might give our new crop of fan-fic writers some excellent tools for their stories.


http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HomePage


It includes examples of various plot devices and formats for different types of narratives and dialogues. It's primarily for TV and movies but they do have a lists of books (many Star Trek) and a breakdown of what devices and formats were used in each so they can easily be adapted to your individual style of storytelling. I can't tell you what a help it has been to me both personally and professionally when I write.

Enjoy :)

Thanks everyone. Hope I don't let you all or the department Down. Great ideas for the next while with regular PVE tutorials and leveling clinics. Any ideas or questions, feel free to message me or any of the department captains.

:whistle:

Cheers

"Chief. I am having memory recall problems. There seems to be a great deal of time that I have lost. For example the last thing I remember before coming aboard the Phantom was being assimilated for a short time and then waking up in Sick bay. Then there are the file systems in my head. I don't understand what is happening."

The chief went to the replicator and requested two coffees and motioned for me to sit down. He tapped his com badge and requested that Colin join us. While we waited for Colin he began his explanation:

"You were assimilated all right, but not for a short time. Sir, you were assimilated for more than a year." It took a great deal of effort and time to locate you and of course then there was the battle. You need to know that you, or the Borg you are responsible for the destruction of the Green Bow. While it was technically not destroyed the damage the Borg ship caused to the Green Bow rendered the ship useless EXCEPT for what was left. The main computer was intact when she was towed in. Of course the majority of the saucer was gone. The shielding systems and warp nacelles were in tact. The rest was basically a total loss."

Colin entered. He had a strange look on his face. He sat down in a chair opposite me the three of us formed a triangle. "I was just briefing the Captain on the destruction of the Green Bow."

"Utopia Planetia has amazing doctors for the recovery of individuals that have been assimilated. It took a very long time to bring you back, to bring back what we could. Part of the Borg implants destroyed several memory receptors in your brain. The loss of that, for lack of a better word, data, is tragic and we don't really know to what extent. We do know that you can recall everything prior to the assimilation but afterwards, after you were recovered and repaired those memories are gone. It seems that you are just now able to create new memories that will be saved. Additionally there are several implants that could not be removed. You may have seen the affects of those..."

I immediately cut him off, "Yes that explains the strange read outs I was seeing!"

"Readouts?"

"Yes, I have detailed specifications and parameters for the Borg ship I was on..."

The chief got up and ran over to the desk spun the console around and shouted "Priority to Admiral Quinn!"

The Admiral appeared on the screen. "Sir, the implants that could not be removed from Captain Frost have shown to contain data regarding Borg Ship systems...Admiral I think this is the break we have been looking for."

The Admiral responded with "Set course to ESD immediately. Captain Frost, You are relieved of duty until further notice!"

"Bridge, set course to Earth Space Doc Warp 9! Security, to the Captains ready room!" The Chief looked at me and then security as they walked in. "The Captain is confined to quarters until we arrive at ESD. Post guards at his door."

I was escorted gently to my quarters, Colin stayed behind with the Chief....

The dim lights of the room illuminated certain parts of the room with faint traces of color. These could be programmed at will and saved for various occasions. The bedroom section was illuminated in red as the two men slept soundly wrapped around each other.

I stirred and realized after the events of the previous night that neither of us had moved. We had slept soundly and apparently needed the sleep. I didn't recall any type of dream. I sat up looked about the room and recognized that this was indeed my new cabin. But who had the forethought to place my belongings in here. Colin, maybe. I got out of bed and entered the bathroom. While I was in the sonic shower Colin appeared and climbed in with me.

"We have to hurry or we will be late for Duty" he said softly.

"Right" I said.

We quickly dressed. Apparently we both had a closet. "Did you move in with me?" I asked impatiently. "I don't remember making this arrangement."

I was cut off by the com. "Commander Frost please come to sick bay."

"I believe my rank is Captain Doctor". I exclaimed.

Colin looked at me with a slight frown. "You don't remember do you?"

I sat down on the bed as he crossed to the desk, touched the drawer open and withdrew a padd. He tossed it to me smiling and said, "Gotta Go I am needed in sick bay". With that he disappeared into the corridor.

I held the padd for a few moments and then touched the screen. I selected the first item I saw. 'Testimony'. As I read through it I realized it was a transcript from a wedding. Further down I saw a photo and touched it. It was a video and opened up to the size of the screen. Music began to play and I saw various people dancing and recognized each one. Then I saw Colin and myself dancing together and photographers and videographers hovering around us. It was OUR wedding. I quickly searched my memory for anything that would trigger these events in my mind. Nothing. Then in the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of green text. I couldn't make it out. I tried to focus on it and it shaped into something like a file structure. I tried to move it with my mind to get it squarely in front of me so I could read it. There it was right in front of me now. I could make out the list of items. They read as follows:
Attack Systems
Defense Systems
Operations

I thought: Attack Systems. suddenly I could see weapons array listings, schematics and firing patterns. I dropped the padd and exited to the corridor. There was nobody around, it was quiet as I made my way to the turbo lift. "Deck One".

The doors of the lift opened and there was the bridge. Chief Anderson was sitting in the Captains chair and rose upon hearing the lift doors open. I stepped out of the lift and crossed the bridge in front of him. "Join me in my ready room."

Congrats to both of you.

Thanks so much guys! :laugh:

Dark, it goes live next month. This was just the announcement.

Also read this from the "Ask Cryptic of February 2013":

Q: (korithian1) The recent teaser-trailer suggests that there will be Romulans added to the game soon. If this is so, has this given the team a good insight into what it takes to add additional factions to the game and will we see any more such as the Cardassians or Borg?

Dstahl: We have always had a plan for how we wanted to implement additional factions and we have polls dating back to early in the game’s life when we were looking to see which future factions players were most interested in. If and when we release a Romulan faction, you can expect that it would set the stage for how a Cardassian, Borg, or any other faction would be introduced into the game.


What that means to me is they used the Romulan faction as a modular (plug and play) base in order to easily (easier?) create new factions such as Cardassian and Borg. So, I would expect in the coming months we will see more factions being rolled out.

Chapter IX: Decidedly Complicated

Cradling his left arm, Semil limped doggedly down the hallway. Klaxons continued to blare through the corridor, despite his having taken the lighting controls offline.

His pulse and breathing were just returning to normal after his last encounter - this time with a pair of particularly aggressive Nausicaans. The one had managed to knock him down with a solid roundhouse sweep, twisting his ankle rather badly in the process. Add to that, landing on the shoulder he had dislocated some time before that.

Once he had gotten the upper hand with the disruptor he'd picked up, Semil had made sure to spare the Nausicaan the merciful efficiency of a swift death. Twisting the mek'leth blade run into his rib cage clearly made an impression, as the Nausicaan had growled and grunted in excruciating agony, his chest cavity pulling wide and ribs cracking.

Still, Semil felt little pain, in spite of his several injuries. In his many times welcoming Jem'Hadar back from battle, they had never acknowledged as much - but only with hindsight could Semil recognize the quiet, furtive thrill behind their eyes that they had worked so hard to conceal.

They had been, after all, only servants of the Founders. Taking pleasure in combat was something for these silly warrior races, with all their posturing and chest-puffing - not soldiers.

And most certainly, not Vorta. The closest he had ever been to live combat before had been watching the multiparametric tactical displays relaying holotelemetry from his platoons.

Still, it had never before occurred to him to inquire of his Jem'Hadar about the thrill of combat, the white hot rush of adrenaline and danger. How his pulse sharpened, his hearing and vision attuned, his movements became a dance - a single fluid expression of purpose and control.

Or moreover - the abject satisfaction of staring into a defeated opponent's eyes as the life drifted away from them. How was it this had never been a topic of the Vorta combat psychodynamics conferences he had attended in the past?

He would gloat, if there had been anyone else around to listen.

Only a few more slow, hobbled steps on his rapidly swelling ankle took him to the one last door, which swooshed open unbidden. Behind lay a cavernous space, with only a few small craft parked, and a great expanse of inky space beyond the open doors - a shuttlebay.

He stepped into the large room, towards the nearest craft when he saw the tall, lone Klingon standing there.

On instinct, he drew the disruptor, aiming squarely at the new interloper. He had counted through the remaining biometric signals on the internal sensors. Surely, his counting skills couldn't have been so off. And a Klingon, at that - this was the first Klingon he'd encountered.

The species he'd encountered made little sense working together. Letheans, Gorn, Nausicaans - the petty thugs and rabble of the Alpha Quadrant. None of whom could orchestrate so methodical and technical an achievement as he had discovered in the scant few hours since his escape. Of course, it could only make sense if they were working for someone else.

As Semil eyed him warily, cautiously stepping closer, the tall Klingon began to chuckle in earnest. "Very good. Very good, indeed."

"I imagine my readings on the nuances of Klingon comedy may have been lacking, Colonel...?" Semil punctuated his question with a brandish of the disruptor pistol, recognizing the Klingon's rank marks.

"K'vot. I am K'vot." The Klingon stood his ground, unwavering.

Clearly, he knows something - or has some reason for such bravado. Not that I should let my guard down regardless.

"And you, Semil." K'vot gestured magnanimously at the Vorta. "Reading material aside, you have mightily demonstrated some skill and cunning here today."

Of the many things he had considered to explain these circumstances - trap, ambush - 'test' had not been among them. "You've been watching the whole time."

"Of course. How else to assess your progress? And you can relax now. I'm compelled to award top marks."

Semil kept the disruptor at eye level, stopping well short of K'vot's reach and range. "Then this test of yours. What makes you so certain..."

"So certain you won't shoot me?" K'vot interrupted calmly. "You won't shoot me. You can't. You won't."

Semil tried brandishing the pistol again to make his point, whoever this Klingon was - he had answers Semil wanted. But it occurred to him, that K'vot was right. Upon considering, Semil's pulse and breathing were slow and calm, there was no white hot flush, or rage. It was actually the most calm he had felt in a very long time. Possibly ever.

Considering he had just spent the last couple of hours killing his way out to this room, with his own two hands - he felt surprisingly serene confronted with the only being between him and escape.

Still, this was no time for weakness. "You're remarkably confident about that for someone with a disruptor pointed at their face."

"You can trust me, Semil. I'm going to take you away from here."

"To another prison, no doubt. For a more forceful interrogation, perhaps?"

"Actually..." K'vot stopped mid-sentence as a disruptor bolt buzzed over his head, from to the side of where both men were standing.

Both K'vot and Semil turned to the source of the shot, to find an Orion woman, wielding a pair of disruptors "YOU!" she shouted, her voice rasping from exertion.

She hobbled towards K'vot and Semil, clearly in much worse shape than the Vorta, bleeding from the corner of her mouth and several other places. "I knew you would try something like this. Every time I so much as turned my head, you thought I couldn't tell you were plotting -- scheming?" Asiliaa fired another disruptor shot over K'vot's head, this one just a little closer to the mark. She had never been so fortunate as to see a Klingon fearful, but damned if she wasn't going to try.

Semil slowly stepped back from the Colonel, clearly not being the subject of the Orion woman's ire. He knew he couldn't completely escape her notice. How could someone have escaped his notice? There was one Orion woman he had kicked down an empty turboshaft. Is this her? Semil made a mental note that recalling those kinds of details became that much more difficult, and yet that much more important through the plush, white-hot delirum of a bloodlust.

Asiliaa had halted her forward advance, clearly paying attention to the both of them now. "First rule of this kind of project, am I right? Eliminate anyone with operational knowledge who could give you up? Anyone who could throw a wrench in the gears?"

K'vot stood impassively, his hands raised in mocking surrender, staring intently at Asiliaa.

"I'm surprised you waited this long, Colonel. Typical Klingon, thinking he can do everyone else's job better than them."

"Semil, I'd like to introduce Doctor Asiliaa." K'vot gestured slightly. "You've been in the good Doctor's care, while you've been our guest. Doctor, you're to be commended for managing to evade the internal sensors."

The Orion doctor reached up behind her ear with one hand and roughly pulled out some device. She threw it in K'vot's direction, the small device skittering to a halt closer to Semil. From the blood and skin still attached, it was clearly some kind of implant. "Biomimetic dampener, to be precise."

Whatever this game was, it had turned decidedly complicated. K'vot was still apparently unarmed. Semil kept his disruptor trained on K'vot, though with far less immediate import. Though Asiliaa had them both sighted, it wasn't likely she could target them both successfully, not if they were moving.

"Why?" Asiliaa continued, unperturbed by K'vot's patronizing condescension. "Why now? What is it you hope to gain by taking him now?"

"Because, Doctor..."

Asiliaa hadn't time to react before realizing Semil wasn't just moving, but was already upon her. A sparkling flash of metallic reflection was all she saw before drawing her arms in defensively. That's when she realized her hands had been severed - amputated cleanly with one lightning quick stroke of Semil's mek'leth.

She staggered backwards, unable to focus on the gushing stumps where her hands were supposed to be. Instead, through her ragged breaths, she caught sight of one of her hands on the floor, only a couple of meters from her, still gripping the pistol, a couple of the fingers paroxysmally twitching.

The shock and surprise had not worn off before she felt her breath knocked out of her, and the cold slap of the bulkhead behind her against her back.

The blade had run straight through her , and lodged itself into the bulkhead behind her. Asiliaa didn't need her medical training to recognize bleeding out would only be a matter of seconds.

With her last few breaths, through the deepening dizziness, she mustered what strength she was capable of to lean in despite the shaft of the blade holding her in place. She drew as close as she could to Semil's ear, a mindless rictus emblazoned on his face, and whispered. Through ragged gasps, her words coalesced like faint clouds on a clear day, "You - you are my greatest achievement."

If she was to expire, the last thing she could do, the only resort left her would be --

The Doctor's breathing slowed and deepened, then ceased, and she slumped forward, supported only by the blade running through her midsection.

His breaths returning to normal, Semil released his grip on the blade handle. He turned to face K'vot, who continued to stand unmoving, in the exact same spot he had been in when Semil had first entered the room.

He no longer felt the need to reach for his disruptor as he stepped towards the Klingon, this time, taken over by a compulsion. "You're the one who left me the blade. Of course." A feeling of reflex washed over him - something with an echo of familiarity, and yet deeply and wholly alien.

Within a few feet of the Klingon, still unarmed, Semil lowered himself to one knee. His neck folded slowly into a bow.

"Very good, indeed, Semil." The Vorta couldn't bring himself to look up. He couldn't tell if K'vot was grinning, or training a disruptor on him - but in that moment, none of that mattered. Semil felt a warm flush in his veins as his pulse slowed.

"Computer! Initiate auto-destruct, authorization K'vot eight-eight-one-five-blue."

Semil looked up. K'vot had reached into his utility belt, retrieving some kind of device. It wasn't a recognizable weapon - perhaps a communicator? Transporter control remote? "I think you'll find this next part will go much easier if I take care of this."

Semil couldn't understand what K'vot was saying, when the Colonel input a couple of commands into the device.

Semil felt a metallic buzzing deep in his consciousness, as his eyes rolled back in his head. His thighs and hips softened as he crumpled to the ground.

As the room turned from gray to black, Semil could just make out a computer voice begin a countdown.

- END PART I -

Congratulations guys!! :)

Congratz Fellas! :cheer:

Congrats to you both, good choices!

Congratz to both of you! Welcome to the team!

YAY :)

OMG Gratz, guys!! :woohoo: *salutes and hugs*

Congratulations, Julien :) Very much well-deserved!