Topic: Goesa'vaina  (Read 23258 times)

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Offline Commander La'ra

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #20 on: April 20, 2005, 01:27:50 pm »
I'll venture my own guess, though the Gov will no doubt give a different response:  Most of the times I'm writing with the Ran'jar/Ron'jar character, we're seeing him through La'ra's eyes.  There's been but one exception, in Small Craft Warning.  Even then, the iceman is operating in an almost purely professional capacity, and so we don't see the types of things that'd elicit stronger reactions from him.

Aside from that, keep in mind these are two seperate versions of the character.  Ron'jar's version of La'ra is different than my own, too.
"Dialogue from a play, Hamlet to Horatio: 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Dialogue from a play written long before men took to the sky. There are more things in heaven and earth, and in the sky, than perhaps can be dreamt of. And somewhere in between heaven, the sky, the earth, lies the Twilight Zone."
                                                                 ---------Rod Serling, The Last Flight

Offline Grim Reaper

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #21 on: April 21, 2005, 02:54:19 am »
I'll venture my own guess, though the Gov will no doubt give a different response:  Most of the times I'm writing with the Ran'jar/Ron'jar character, we're seeing him through La'ra's eyes.  There's been but one exception, in Small Craft Warning.  Even then, the iceman is operating in an almost purely professional capacity, and so we don't see the types of things that'd elicit stronger reactions from him.

Aside from that, keep in mind these are two seperate versions of the character.  Ron'jar's version of La'ra is different than my own, too.

Thx for the clarification bud, figured as much. Still, I haven't received an update from you in a while. Having a bit of a block or R/F issues?
Snickers@DND: If there is one straight answer in that bent little head of yours, you'd better start spillin' it pretty damn quick, or I'm gonna take a large, blunt object, roughly the size of Kallae AND his hat and shove it lengthwise up a crevice of your being so seldomly cleaned that even the denizens of the nine hells would not touch it with a 10-feet rusty pole

Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #22 on: April 27, 2005, 10:55:30 pm »
My answer to all of the above.

Some of the observed icy-ness will pop up in later instalments which I am currently editing. Perhaps I've somewhat departed from character, but since the character is an extension of my own self, I should say not.
 Do note that his petty little blow up in Tor's office, infact, the entire Tor-office scene, was a jibe to my good friend La'ra. He took certain liberties with one of my characters in one of the first stories he posted for Taldren. The whole name thing (Ron'jar/Ran'jar) stems from the same story, where I misspelled my own character's name with an 'a' and he liked the way it looked better. Yes, my spelling IS that bad...
Yes, it is also correct that no two authors can't really portray a character the same way. There will always be differences. You can look at it as seeing a character through the main character's eyes, such as in La'ra's stories, or you can chalk it up to the whole alternate universe thing. I imagine the way La'ra sees the real me and the way I see myself is a bit askew as well. When La'ra began to borrow Ron'jar, I only had two stories written with him anyway, and he was such a small addition to the stories anyway, that his portrayal of him is as correct as can be.
Also note, La'ra does not generally delve into Ron'jar's personal life. He saves that for me. I try to do the same when using La'ra. My version of La'ra, I certainly know, are different from his own. His La'ra doesn't bath in a giant stone tub which was escentially a war prize (House of Kruge).
I guess I'm done babbling. Hope I answered your questions or at least not confused you to the point of having a severe head-ache. I like delving into the differences between different authors' renditions of same characters. I like to read La'ra's Ran'jar and love to see what witty things I get to do in his stories. I hope he gets the same cheap little thrill.
Later.
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Commander La'ra

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #23 on: April 28, 2005, 10:57:34 am »
Quote
I try to do the same when using La'ra. My version of La'ra, I certainly know, are different from his own. His La'ra doesn't bath in a giant stone tub which was escentially a war prize (House of Kruge).

In my stories it's brass, or copper, or whatever metal they use to make those big luxurious rich people tubs (or a more durable material treated to look like such).  I guess I DO need to explain how he got such a thing.  I seriously doubt he just bought it.

Quote
I hope he gets the same cheap little thrill.

To quote the poet:  "Indeed." ;D
"Dialogue from a play, Hamlet to Horatio: 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Dialogue from a play written long before men took to the sky. There are more things in heaven and earth, and in the sky, than perhaps can be dreamt of. And somewhere in between heaven, the sky, the earth, lies the Twilight Zone."
                                                                 ---------Rod Serling, The Last Flight

Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #24 on: May 05, 2005, 07:28:08 pm »
Okay Guv'nor, I'm fully caught up with this little tale and now exhort you to supply more, more!

Despite the fact that you inhabit the FASA Universe rather than the SFB/C one (and incur my disfavour for that alone! *grin*), it is a good read. I'm interested to see how well the Endeavour holds up against a battle fleet!

PS. I rather thought that Ron'jar's thought of the lovely Da'kara would make him feel anything but soft...  ;)
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The Doctor: "No idea. Just made it up. Didn't want to say 'Magic Door'."
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Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #25 on: May 05, 2005, 11:03:24 pm »
Actually, my stories inhabit the world of my home-made RPG, which has just as much SFB, SFC3 as it does with FASA. FASA's stuff was pretty lame in most ways, though I can shoot holes all day in SFB's stuff as well. My crap is as close to what I see in the series, minus the stupid stuff, such as beaming down to a known hostile environment wearing a bright colored uniform rather than armor or at least camoflauge.

My universe does have marines, not just SF Security. However, not every ship flies around carrying a full compliment of them for no reason. My security forces respond to reported problems carrying rifle, not pistols.

I could go on for pages, but who really wants to read all my gripes. Its just a TV show. But, my writing is important to me, and I try not to put in stuff that doesn't make sense...

I do use SFB and FASA listings for things when I can. The D-3 class ship I use comes from the SFC3 plug-in I D/L'd from Battleclinic.com. L-42's do come from FASA. The Tom'par'a comes from SFC2, the Klingon DN.

No one uses 'drones', unless they have to. Cloaked ships must lower their shields, but ... AHHH!!! There I go again!

I better get off this subject.

Anywho...glad you like this. Once I get the next bit editted, IF no one further interupts me, I'll post a really big chunk. I'm working on the first set of battles. I take pride in my combat scenes. The one in House of Kruge made me happy in its length, though I admit much of the length was not necessary.

BTW, did you recieve my EMail? I sent you House of Kruge via this sight's service.

Later all...
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

KBF-Frankk

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #26 on: May 12, 2005, 07:05:39 pm »
No update?, kick tread to top

Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #27 on: May 13, 2005, 08:47:36 am »
Thanks for the bump, Frankk, I forgot to answer this.

Hey Ronjar, I didn't get your email with House of Kruge attached. Could you please try again, and send it to:


scottishandy@rogers.com

Muchos thanksos, muchachoes.  ;D
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The Doctor: "Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink."
Mickey: "Wot's that?"
The Doctor: "No idea. Just made it up. Didn't want to say 'Magic Door'."
- Doctor Who: The Woman in the Fireplace (S02E04)

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Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #28 on: May 17, 2005, 11:09:06 pm »
Chapter Six
USS Endeavour,
Within the Goesan Starsystem,
February 20, 2274




Commander Ronald Jeremy turned away from the science station and faced the center seat. The large, dark skinned man there watched the forward viewer impassively as he awaited reports from his division officers seated around him. He wished he had better news to hand his captain.

“We definitely have company coming, Captain. I read three poorly masked warp field signatures approaching the far side of the plasma storm at warp factor seven.”

Captain Jonathan Sharp looked Ron’s way with worry, but little surprise.

“Type and classification, Number One?”

“The oscillation pattern is heavily masked by some sort of dampening field, sir. Possibly the interference of some kind of cloaking device. But from the hash they’re making on the broad-spectrum array, I’d say older Klingon cruisers. Possibly D-5 class or older.”

“Klingon ships with cloaking devices…” Sharp murmured, looking ahead once more. “Well, it was bound to happen eventually. ETA on incoming guests?”

“Three hours, twenty-seven minutes, present speed. Looks like they’re going to come in through the thick of the storm.” The exec replied. Sharp nodded and glanced sideward as the com officer, Lieutenant Lania approached with a data padd in hand. The young Vulcan wore the white colored, sleeveless version of the newest Fleet uniform, and by far looked the best among all Endeavour’s crew in the skin-tight suit.

“Captain,” she began, “Starfleet advises no reinforcements are available at this time.”

“Reason?”

“Admiral Minton notes a build up of Klingon and Romulan capitol ships near Narendra III, poised to cross the Neutral Zone. Admiral McKindle has ordered a like build up on our side of the border. Additional ships are being summoned, but nearest help is six days from here at warp factor nine. And even then, we can only expect to receive the USS Argonaut.”

“Argonaut is a light cruiser…” Sharp muttered. Their situation here was near hopeless in terms of holding Goesa’vaina from the Empires. An imminent attack here was undeniable, but when weighed against the value of targets near to Narendra, Goesa’vaina suddenly took a back seat. There was the slight possibility that Goesa’vaina was a clumsy feint, but Sharp did not believe so. His sixth sense told him that there was something the Klingons wanted within this system. He could not fathom what it was, but there was definitely something. The Chicago-born captain pondered the values of holding a system so far from the main routes, watching the roiling red plasma clouds on the view screen.

“Very well, Lieutenant.” He said to Lania. She turned and went back to her console to monitor subspace frequencies. “Number One, continue monitoring our guests and try to get further ID on them. Also watch for other vessels. Sound Yellow Alert, raise shields.”

Lieutenant Alfred Jackson, the hulking, heroically muscular man at the tactical console, suddenly sprang to action. The bridge’s lighting lowered to half power, accented by flashing red tracers. As the repetitive general alarm sounded, the deflector shield schematic on Jackson’s console illuminated, showing a field encircling the ship. “Yellow Alert, aye, aye, sir. Shields show up at full power. Weapons coming to standby readiness.”

Everything that could be done now had been done. Now all that remained was informing the Goesan Queen of the disheartening news. Sharp stood from the conn and headed for the starboard turbolift. “Number One, you have the bridge. I’ll be in my ready room. Lieutenant Lania, raise Goesan Command and inform them I’ll be speaking with them shortly.”





The Grand Assemblage Hall,
Jessa’man’a City,
Goesa’vaina




Dashak Prime I’rell Coarus held his face and expressions in check as the black skinned Starfleet captain relayed his news. This was not what he’d hoped to expect from the vaunted Federation. The Goesan government had signed treaties with the humans that were meant to ensure this world’s protection from outside threat. While a military man could expect that the tides of war might prevent these treaties from being upheld in dire situations, it was another thing to see those same treaties falter upon their first test. The first and only time the Goesan people had ever needed the Federation Starfleet, and they say they can do nothing. Or next to it.

Jessa’tae Elani’tess seemed to regard the captain as though he’d spoken in Andorian.

“Allow me some time to clarify, Captain Sharp. You say there is nothing we can do? Nothing you can do?” Her head with its beautiful locks of raven hair tilted as she looked at the human. “We can expect no assistance from your impenetrable Starfleet?”

Sharp seemed to sigh to himself. He didn’t like having to tell the queen this, Coarus could tell. But the good captain’s sentiment meant little to those who would tomorrow be dying. “I’m afraid that the fleet is tied up protecting a valuable stretch of the Organian Treaty Zone—“

“More valuable to the Federation than Goesa’vaina, you mean,” Elani shot at him. Her tone was not hateful, but did hold a bit of spite. She was angry about the agreements she signed, which were not going to be honored. She was angry that the Klingons were apparently coming, and there was nothing to be done to stop them. “I thought that your precious Organian Treaty prevented the Klingons from attacking you.”

“ Nothing about the treaty states that their ships will be stopped by the Organians prior to reaching our side of the border,” Sharp explained, face sour as though he were describing something that had been forced on him like a shackle. “Only that there will be no battle over what were contested planets within the Zone.”

“I see,” Elani’s eyes narrowed, “Another pointless treaty.”

Sharp’s head hung just a little. It was not a good thing to be bawled out by a beautiful woman. Especially when she was right. I’rell hefted the lightweight phaser rifle and glanced over its power levels and indicators. He hoped this fancy new weapon was more dependable than Federation Treaties…

“Endeavour will remain within the system and provide all the support we can muster.” Sharp went on, his voice still solid and firm. He was a good leader, I’rell believed. “Hopefully we can turn back what forces the Klingons have sent and give them a bloody enough nose in the process to make them think again about this venture. We still only have three ships on sensors, and no word yet about the position of the remainder of the fleet they had at Ya’vang.”

The Jessa’tae nodded at the thought. “You believe that your ship and ours may win the day?”

“Perhaps.” That was all Sharp could offer.

Elani’tess turned to Coarus.

“Dashak Prime, rally your men into defense positions throughout the city. You are in direct command of the capitol’s defense. Iram,” she cast toward the Over Secretary across the command chamber, “You will be my direct link to the planet based armed forces. Admiral Torest will command our fleet from the Goesa’kain. Relay to him his launch orders and order him to coordinate with Captain Sharp. If there are indeed only the three ships, we will destroy them. Should there be more to come, mayhap we can delay them till Starfleet deems it necessary to reinforce our space.” She looked pointedly back to the captain. His face bore a proud expression as he looked upon the queen. “Does this sound possible, Captain?”

“Quite possible, Jessa’tae. Endeavour out.”

I’rell Coarus studied his lady intently. She bore well under this building strain. Never before had she led her people against a serious military threat. Today she was. This day she contended with a threat that encompassed her entire world and all those upon it. Her shoulders were set and did not droop. Her jaw was held high in pride. Her eyes remained steadfast. Yes, she would do. Elani was a good Jessa’tae. No matter what happened in the coming hours and days, her people would remember that.





IKS B’rel



“Endeavour holds her station, Lord.” Tor’nax breathed, his young voice betraying no nervous tension. That was admirable, Ron’jar thought. The Lieutenant First Rank bent over his science console, peering over all the intel its readouts could feed him. “She continues to direct low level active scans at the Whitehairs.”

Ron’jar sat in his command chair, unmoving. He had been right to guess that the cloaking shields surrounding the D-3s were inferior to his own. They had been detected long ago. He’d sent the D-3 cruisers along a different coarse from B’rel, expecting that there may be some sort of ship on patrol near the system’s limits. He had not expected, however, that the patrolling ship would be none other than Sharp’s Endeavour. Endeavour was a newly rebuilt Constitution-Class heavy cruiser. B’rel was no match for her in anybody’s dream. The three cruisers Ron’jar had at his disposal would be hard pressed to hurt her badly at all.

By themselves, at any rate. Sharp did not know that a Bird of Prey lurked behind him, even now. This lent Ron’jar a slight advantage. But Sharp was no one’s fool. He was running with full shields, his weapons on standby. He knew trouble brewed here. Likely, the fleet buildup at Ya’vang had not gone unnoticed. Sharp had raced here as swiftly as he could. But no further reinforcements had accompanied him.

Sharp’s grey-white hulled ship hung in space before the Klingon warship, unmoving and illuminated in crimson firelight from the Almat. Beyond, the fierce plasma storm roiled upon itself as it built to its strongest period of the season. Endeavour looked fragile against that maelstrom with her gangly nacelle struts and her gawky saucer section. But the commander knew that Starfleet ships were deceptively tough. Those thin, wing-like struts could take a beating before giving up their burden. But Ron’jar was privy to one weakness of the Constitution-Class design…

The Klingon commander thought of what kind of bragging rights he would obtain if he slew La’ra’s favorite rival. How could this be done before the fleet arrived? An inkling of a plan was formulating within his mind. Sinister light played in Ron’jar’s eyes.

“Helm,” he called. “Alter coarse. Take us within eighty thousand kelicams of Goesa’vaina standard orbit. Full thrusters.” He would see what awaited them in the Goesan dockyards.

“Yes, my lord.” Was the response. La’ra had always held a subtle dislike for being called ‘lord’. Ron’jar really didn’t care one way or the other. He assumed it might one day grow tiresome, but for now, he allowed the crew to go on with the honorific.

The Endeavour spun out of view as the nimble B’rel turned on a heel and dashed away at full impulse power. It would take just over an hour at this distance to reach Goesa’vaina orbit. Ron’jar settled into his chair and relaxed. Soon he would report his intelligence and the bulk of his scouting mission would be complete. Then he would be at his own liberty to decide what to do till the fleet arrived.
******************************************************************************

Hope this was a tollerable addition to my little tragety. May that you all enjoy.

Things begin to come closer to a head in this instalment. I have little time where people leave me alone to write, so this is all coming very slowly. If I had a damn laptop, I'd write it at work on lunch. It is kinda bad, but work is the closest to free time I have right now...

See y'all!




'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Commander La'ra

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #29 on: May 18, 2005, 12:37:26 am »
I like how this one is coming together.  Hard to place why, but the difference between the stuff you're writing now and the stuff you wrote a year ago is substantial.  I get thrills (cheap and expensive) from all your work, but this one is impressing the hell out of me more than usual.
"Dialogue from a play, Hamlet to Horatio: 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Dialogue from a play written long before men took to the sky. There are more things in heaven and earth, and in the sky, than perhaps can be dreamt of. And somewhere in between heaven, the sky, the earth, lies the Twilight Zone."
                                                                 ---------Rod Serling, The Last Flight

Offline Grim Reaper

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #30 on: May 18, 2005, 05:00:35 am »
I agree with La'ra that this is coming along nicely. Nice tempo specificly
Snickers@DND: If there is one straight answer in that bent little head of yours, you'd better start spillin' it pretty damn quick, or I'm gonna take a large, blunt object, roughly the size of Kallae AND his hat and shove it lengthwise up a crevice of your being so seldomly cleaned that even the denizens of the nine hells would not touch it with a 10-feet rusty pole

Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #31 on: May 19, 2005, 07:15:26 pm »
I agree with those two, Ronjar. You're doing a great job here building the tension and sense of anticipaton for the coming battle. I'm decidedly interested in seeing if the Endeavor will survive, and specifically what this alleged weakness in Starfleet's best ship is! *grin*

Keep up the good work. Can't wait for the next part.
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The Doctor: "Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink."
Mickey: "Wot's that?"
The Doctor: "No idea. Just made it up. Didn't want to say 'Magic Door'."
- Doctor Who: The Woman in the Fireplace (S02E04)

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Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #32 on: May 23, 2005, 09:46:29 pm »
I'll bet you'd like to know what the weak spot is...

It's something I noticed on the deck chart a few years back. You'd not really be able to utilise it in normal combat. But if used...

If you see the chart, and watch Star Trek the motion picture, you might see what I mean. The problem is evidently fixed by Star Trek 5...

I'm glad all are enjoying. More coming soon. Just started working on it again tonight.
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #33 on: May 24, 2005, 10:03:15 am »
Oh, the whole warp engines going into matter/antimatter imbalance and cutting out the phasers thingie?

I'd certainly like to see what wild scenario you concoct to allow that sequence of events!
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The Doctor: "Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink."
Mickey: "Wot's that?"
The Doctor: "No idea. Just made it up. Didn't want to say 'Magic Door'."
- Doctor Who: The Woman in the Fireplace (S02E04)

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Offline Commander La'ra

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #34 on: May 24, 2005, 12:52:41 pm »
Heheh.  I know what it is, Andy, and it isn't that.

It's the type of thing that, while some people would notice it, most Trekkies would not since they usually don't think in terms of...erm, I better stop.  If I'd finished that sentence, I'd have said too much.
"Dialogue from a play, Hamlet to Horatio: 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Dialogue from a play written long before men took to the sky. There are more things in heaven and earth, and in the sky, than perhaps can be dreamt of. And somewhere in between heaven, the sky, the earth, lies the Twilight Zone."
                                                                 ---------Rod Serling, The Last Flight

Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #35 on: May 24, 2005, 07:52:27 pm »
If I wanted to use that particular weakness, I could probably concoct a Trekky way to do it. But Ron'jar ain't an engineer, just...practical. Enjoy Ch.7

Chapter Seven
USS Endeavour,
Near the Almat Plasma Storms,
February 20, 2274

“Captain,” the longhaired navigator called from his console. Beside the helm position, the broad shouldered man hunched low over his sensor array as Sharp and Commander Jeremy spoke in low voices. Both officers turned their full attention to the man.

“Yes, Mister Ford?” Inquired Sharp.

“Long-range sensors now picking up a swarm of powerful warp signatures. At least thirty, Cap’n.” The man’s Southern accent drawled a bit. His report caused the captain to draw himself up in his seat. Thirty ships… He looked to Jeremy.

“Confirm that, Number One!”

Ronald practically raced to his science console and began working the controls there. While he’d talked strategy with his superior officer, he’d left the task of watching the surrounding sky to the capable Chevis Ford. Ford was very good on sensors, one of the reasons he remained at nav despite his estimable piloting capacity. The needed series of subspace spectrometers began to spike on Ron’s screens. The interference from the plasma field was heavy, but with subtle manipulation on the bandwidth controls, the readings became clearer in ways not possible via the navigation console’s systems. The exec’s eyes widened.

“Confirmed, Captain,” Jeremy said, his heart sinking. “Thirty contacts, twelve from visible targets, the remainder likely from cloaked sources. Speed measures at…warp nine. ETA…four hours, thirty-seven minutes.”

Jeremy looked back at his captain as the man took this in. He could figure Sharp’s train of thought. They could not hope to even delay such a huge force. With the three small escorts and the unfinished battlecruiser the Goesans fielded aiding Endeavour, they could hope for little more than to give the enemy flagship a bloody nose before they were wiped out. Thirty to four odds were pathetic. What could the Klingons want from this system so badly?

They needed a new plan.

Sharp sat forward, obviously reaching the same conclusion as Jeremy and likely already formulating alternate plans. “Helm, bring us about and get us to Goesa’vaina. Make your speed warp factor seven.”
“Sir,” The Andorian at the flight controls said in a cautionary tone. “I respectfully remind the Captain that such speed is inadvisable within the close quarters of a planetary system.” Even as the blue-skinned beauty said this, she readied the warp controls for flight.

“Noted, Miss Natarin. Ford, can you guarantee me we’ll make Goesa’vaina in one piece?”

“Yup.” Ford replied, all his concentration focussed on plotting in his coarse program. “Ready and laid in, sir.”

“Engage.”




Grand Assemblage Hall,
Goesa’vaina




Elani’tess narrowed her eyes rather than allowing them to pop open with shock.

“You’re doing what, Captain?”

The blue clad man in the white command chair had the facial qualities of an onyx statue. He leaned forward within that cushioned chair as the plain-lion did when ready to leap upon his prey. This was a man of action, one who hated having others do things for him. I’rell Coarus thought this a good quality in a man, captain or otherwise.

“I’m assuming standard orbit and preparing to beam down a contingent of my crew to supplement your ground troops. My men are well trained and better armed. Within an hour, we can emplace enough heavy weaponry on your planet to seriously delay Klingon conquest of your world till help arrives.”
Elani’s hands perched themselves upon her round hips.

“A few hours ago, you preached slowing the enemy’s ships—“

“That isn’t going to be possible. We’re talking about thirty capitol size starships, more than half with cloaking devices, possibly Romulan warships.” The urgency in the leader’s voice bespoke more than his words. This was a no-win situation. All that could be gained here was a long, drawn-out and very bloody struggle to keep the government intact till Federation ships could relieve them and send the enemy packing. If they could ever free up the ships to do that.

Elani’tess stepped closer to the video feed.

“We’re going to lose, aren’t we, Captain Sharp?”

Sharp looked back at her for hard moments, weighing what he should say. Around him, conveyed by the com speakers, could be heard the voices of his crew as they brought his great ship out of warp speed.
“Not yet, Jessa’tae. But you’re in for a long and hard road, beginning now. Without our help, your planet will be conquered by sun-up tomorrow. With our aid, we might be able to last until my first officer can talk some sense into my sector commander. Minton will send the ships and the man power.”

Coarus wondered if the captain believed that with the same veracity with which he was trying to convince the queen. More likely, he was trying to give both the Jessa’tae and himself a little hope. But it was obvious he cared for the Goesan people.

“Would it not be more prudent to simply surrender to the Klingons than to battle for not, and then—“ Thankfully, Sharp interrupted Elani before she could finish.

“Life under Klingon rule is harsh, Queen. There are no freedoms. No self-governorship. Your people will live only to serve the Klingons. For every infraction to their rules, hundreds of prisoners will be shot. And once they are allowed to root themselves there, it will be the devil to get them out.”

Sharp’s eyes searched the Jessa’tae’s own. He awaited her answer, sure that if she chose to hand her world over to the Empire, it would be the last he saw of her. Elani swallowed and looked away from the feed. Sharp seemed to repress a grimace. I’rell, from his vantage near the command boards, could see the lines of stress that had been spreading since she had been informed of all this. She had yet to leave the war room. She slept here, ate here, prayed here. Elani was a dedicated monarch. Coarus was proud to be her Prime. If he were to die defending such as she, then his life would not have been wasted. At last, she looked back to the Starfleet captain, resolution upon her face.

“Then we fight, Captain. Bring your men down.”




IKS B’rel




Commander Ron’jar quelled his enthusiasm as he ground his forehead into the cold metal of the command gunnery sight. The USS Endeavour floated serenely before his scout ship, her wide spread nacelles glowing within his display. The cruiser floated majestically above the Goesan world, her belly pointed down to the visible hemisphere of golden earth and white clouds. B’rel stalked in from behind, her charged weapons aimed for the weak spots in the engineering hull of the mighty starship. His Bird of Prey was so close it was dizzying.

Captain Jonathan Sharp’s human voice flowed through the bridge from the overhead as he calmly relayed to the Goesan monarch that he was readying his security warriors to beam down. Ron’jar had long ago cracked the Starfleet code used when their ships communicated with allied worlds. It was foolish for them not to have updated their code in all this time.

The Klingon captain leaned into the combat periscope, hands loosely caressing the firing controls as he awaited his opportunity. Behind and around him on the bridge, his crew waited anxiously.  Some thought him maniacal, attempting to bring down such huge prey. Others thought him a fool, such as his First. Tor’nax had not openly said such, but obviously waited for his own opportunity to take advantage of any failure.

Others of his crew; such as the wispy-tall, foul smelling Inora, his chief engineer; were having the time of their lives. This was the kind of thrilling life in the service they had been craving. Ron’jar was not going to disappoint them. And the opportunity he’d awaited came to him.

“—Preparing to launch shuttle Zombie. Hanger bay doors opening…now,” Said the voice of Sharp’s First Officer. Sharp was launching shuttlecraft! This was the time!

Ron’jar’s fist raised, the prearranged signal to prepare to decloak. He could hear the rustle of nervous movement behind him. He wondered if the Romulan shared the exhilaration...

The clamshell looking doors on the conical fantail peeled open within Ron’jar’s viewfinder. The commander slipped his targeting reticule over the cavernous maw that was developing. From within the shuttle bay, a tiny auxiliary craft lifted and emerged into the coldness of space to head down to the planet. The Federation ship’s shields flashed around the exterior of the shuttle as it passed through the deflector field.

“Shuttle away,” a female voice was saying from Sharp’s ship. “Security reports first six teams ready for transport.”

Sharp’s voice: “Cut shields and energize.”

Ron’jar’s hand plummeted in an axeman’s gesture. He then waited, breath caught tight, as the alarms sounded and the lighting brightened to the timing of the cloaking device’s cycle. Grinning fiercely, he jabbed thumbs down on the firing studs.
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #36 on: May 24, 2005, 08:01:57 pm »
Chapter 7 (pt.2)

The sharp-beaked, ovular command pod of the B’rel shimmered into view from the blackness of space. The protective doors covering her photon torpedo tube irised open to disgorge a volley of three missiles. The rotating balls of spiraling crimson light jumped away from their home-ship, closing the distance to Endeavour at near lightspeed.

As the lethal torpedoes shot in as straight as spears, Endeavour’s onboard computers recognized the peril and triggered the emergency door closure systems. The massive, heavy door sections reeled themselves shut with a speed stunning for something so large, much to the short-lived bewilderment of the hanger crews. The doors closed just swiftly enough to stop two of the three weapons before they entered. The second torpedo slammed into the nearly closed clamshells, thrusting irradiated flame through the quarter meter crack remaining and denting the duranium outer cover. The third torpedo struck, increasing the size of the dent and burning a two-meter wide hole through the armored curvature of the closure. Sparks began to rain down from overloaded field generators surrounding the door. Those sparks never reached the deck.

The first torpedo continued on a few milliseconds after the destruction of its following pair. Targeted manually, as it had been to avoid detection, the torpedo had been aimed for the far bulkhead separating the hanger and main cargo bays from the warp intermix shaft. The design of these newer Constitution-Class cruisers left a great deal of open space from the shuttlebay doors all the way to the forward section of the cargo section, a distance of nearly half of the engineering hull. The shuttlebay doors were never generally opened during combat, certainly not with the shields down…

The torpedo’s onboard targeting system, however, realized that it had traveled fifty meters beyond its expected point of impact. Its simple programming stated that it was, indeed, travelling through the intended reception point and was well within the hull of the target. The software judged that this meant it had passed through a structural soft point in the hull, and conferred with the appropriate set of instructions: which told it to ignite the detonation sequence.

The torpedo erupted into a blinding white flash, immediately atomizing the atmosphere within the hanger and cargo bays, and most of the closest lifeforms. The less lucky were either smashed with unimaginable force into the bow bulkheads or rammed out the small rent in the shuttlebay doors.
The entire fantail of the engineering hull swelled, transparencies bursting from the windows they sat within. A gout of plasmic flame jetted from the breach in the hanger doors, exerting so much force it actually hurled the mighty Federation ship off coarse. Blisters formed all along the pristine, conical formation of the engineering section as the built-up gasses and destructive energies of the confined megatons of the explosion sought easy means of escape.

Unconcernedly, B’rel shimmered once again, fading from view.

USS Endeavour


Captain Sharp clawed his way up from the diamond plate deck where he’d been hurled and shook his cloudy, pain clogged head. What had happened? Had the Klingons attacked already? How had they gotten to Endeavour so quickly, without being detected? Without being directed to do so, his legs and back and arms mechanically lifted him from the deck and grabbed hold of the blue bridge railing to steady himself. Smoke drifted at floor level across the command center. Alarms…damage alarms wailed within the small compartment at mind-splitting intensity. Only the red tracer lights gave illumination to the room. The captain, still wondering, took stock of his people.

Lieutenant Surrak was among those he saw first. The young, short Vulcan was also clambering his rough way back to his station. Green blood flowed freely from a large gash on the left side of his head. Commander Jeremy lay face up on the operations level. He was breathing, Sharp thought, and there seemed to be no obvious damage to his person. Movement sounded from behind him and Jon turned around.

Lieutenant Ford was picking himself up from the bloodied face of his navigations panel. The bearded, hairy officer shook his head and immediately winced from the sloshing pain that thudded in his sinus. He blinked thickly as he looked about the darkened room.

“Report, Lieutenant…” Sharp coughed out. His lungs burned as though he’d been breathing noxious fumes. He might have done just that.

Ford shook his head again, just slightly, and went to checking over his panel.

“Warp power has failed.” The officer read off. He seemed to have a blanket of cold detachment hanging over him. Likely mild shock. He went on. “I’m reading automatic deflector activation on computer order. Shields are up, but on auxiliary power and fading quick. Hull breach in the hanger deck…massive damage being reported by automatic systems from the hanger and cargo bays. Hanger bay is…depressurized.”

Sharp’s eyes widened slightly as Ford reported. Hull breach…damage to hanger and cargo bays…depressurization…the shields were up. Surely they’d been fired upon. But, if so, why were they still standing here? Why weren’t the Klingons finishing the job?

“Sensors, what the hell did this?” Sharp shouted his gravely order as he lurched for the conn. His right knee clenched in pain. He’d twisted or hyper-extended it on the way down, he supposed. His butt hit the cushion of the command chair and he looked into the viewer. All he could see was the curvature of Goesa’vaina’s surface. It was so close that the horizon appeared almost straight…

“Ford, stabilize our orbit!”

Chevis glanced up from his sensor controls and furrowed his brow. The proximity of the planet seemed to almost confuse him, but he did as he was bid. The golden-white sands of the desert world slid away to the bottom of the screen as the ship pulled ‘up’ toward the relative safety of space. Still shaking his head to clear his vision, Ford returned to his sensors. “No contacts within weapons range, Cap’n. But I am detecting residual neutron radiation aft of our current position. Prob’ly from a photon launch.”

Sharp nodded. There was a cloaked warship nearby. Likely Romulan, given that Ford couldn’t pick up a trace. Those three ships out near the plasma storm had been easy enough to detect. And what about the first three…

“Where are those first battlecruisers?”

Ford sat up ramrod straight in his chair. Hurriedly, he swept his hands over the console before him and leaned in close to read its givings. “They’re on their way, Cap’n. They’re D-3 Class cruisers. All three cruisers have dropped their cloaks and accelerated to attack speed. Their ETA is five minutes.”
Sharp now knew why the attacker hadn’t continued his barrage. He didn’t need to unnecessarily endanger his own ship by remaining visible long enough for Endeavour to respond. He was waiting for his back up to take care of them. His fist slammed down on a well-worn intercom panel. “Engineering! How are my engines!”

Jave Bornet, the ship’s chief engineer, had obviously been waiting for the captain’s call and responded almost before Sharp’s mouth formed around the final syllable. “A torpedo has detonated within the stardrive hull!” The Tellarite’s gruff voice growled. “It went off directly beneath the EPS conversion center. The mains are offline. We’re on backup systems only!”

“Any chance of repair?”

“Not without tearing out the entire converter assembly and rebuilding it from scratch. Remember how long that took after the Tirv attacked us?” Jave shot out. Sharp could hear shouting in the background above the tambour of the warp drive. “That isn’t the worst of it, Captain! We have a plasma fire from the fissures in the EPS array! The fire is spreading as the tears in the shielding grow larger! Containment fields have failed! We’re going to have to shut down the warp reactor core!”
And then we won’t have warp speed, leapt into the captain’s mind. “Without warp drive or main power, we won’t stand a chance, Engines!”

“Then you’d better come up with a fix in the next two minutes! After that we lose the core!”


Grand Assemblage Hall,
Goesa’vaina

Jessa’tae Elani’tess walked close to the orbital satellite feed, face slack, as she watched the tragedy unfolding in the skies above her world. Endeavour practically drifted ahead, seemingly without direction as she trailed fire and gas from her bowels. Her once smooth, graceful hull was now rippled and blackened. Ionized particles made a wispy trail aft of her as she limped away from the sight of her violation. Elani could not see how the mighty ship could recover from this attack. A single strike had rendered her ineffective.

“Sensor control,” I’rell was projecting (he never yelled) into the com module in the center of his panel. “Scour the area of space near to the Federation ship and locate her attacker.”

“Yes, Prime!”

“Look,” the queen said, sounding mesmerized as she pointed up at the wall mounted screen.
At the precise moment Coarus glanced up at the viewer, the earthship leapt away, vanishing in a flash of disrupted spatial particles. “She’s gone to warp.” The Dashak Prime confirmed, voice more steady than anyone else’s in the chamber. “Bugged out…”

The Jessa’tae at that moment stopped gawking like a scared child. Her face became a set picture of calm, as resolute as stone. Drawing her mouth into a chagrined line, she turned on her acting military commander. “Prime Coarus, rally our men and all those from Endeavour who made it down here before she left. Inform the Endeavour personnel of what happened to their ship, they’ll want to know. Place the Starfleet soldiers where they’ll be most useful among our men. Order the Goesa’kain to attack the Klingons from their flanks as they make orbit. And make sure the city deflector shield is at full power.”

'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #37 on: May 24, 2005, 08:03:27 pm »
Chapter 7 (part 3!)
IKS B’rel

Commander Ron’jar watched the tactical relay as the blip representing the human battlecruiser slowly crept away from him at a paltry warp factor four. The mighty starship was hobbled and would make easy pickings for any ship that had the itch to take her out. A pair of assault shuttles could chase her down right now, and give her a hard time, maybe even destroy her.

The commander was slightly puzzled, though, as to why the ship still lived at all. The first torpedo should have hit that after bulkhead leading to the engine room and snapped her warp reactor right in two. But it hadn’t. The second and third weapons had slammed into the hanger bay doors; he understood that. But the first should have been all that was necessary. It meant little in the long run. He’d achieved the same result either way. Endeavour no longer protected Goesa’vaina.

The commanding officer turned away from the attack scope, pressing the retract-control as he headed back to his command chair. His eyes befell Lieutenant Tor’nax who stared from the science console in slight disbelief. He looked unsure as to whether to congratulate his captain, or curse vehemently that Ron’jar’s foolish attack had succeeded. Ron’jar glared a dark hole through the small man, daring him to make any utterance at all. Tor’nax exercised the finer points of valor.

The commander sat slowly into his almond colored seat and looked at the sandy world on his viewer. A small smile hid behind his heavy lips. This was command! And it felt good. His dark hued eyes again found his First. “Lieutenant, position Goesan warships?”

“Yes, Lord.” Tor’nax replied swiftly, quick to leap to his duty. Red glyphs flowed over the angular contours of his face. “Goesan battlecruisers approaching at half impulse power.” The positions of the three defenders showed on the tactical map mounted beside the main viewer. They closed in on planetary orbit from behind the B’rel. Their path would bring them past the Bird of Prey on an intersection coarse for the grandfathers. The Goesan commander’s plan seemed very clear: hit the equal number of Klingon cruisers from their vulnerable sides and hopefully be able to take one or more of them down quickly. Likely, the enemy admiral would wait till the cruisers made orbit so their maneuverability would be sorely limited. “The main battleship scans the approaching battle group. The smaller two scan planetary orbit.”

Looking for us, Ron’jar thought with satisfaction. He was only moderately worried about the Goesan ‘dreadnought’. It was an incomplete ship built with below average technology. Native engineers were innovative to have designed such a large warship so soon after discovering warp drive, but the ship would hardly be a match for a well-armed destroyer in her present shape.
He was fairly familiar with the specs of the alien battleship. Part of his mission those years ago had been to steal whatever tactical info he could uncover. The Goesa’kain’s secret design plans had been a part of that intel. Fully powered, her deflectors could stave off a full volley of weapons fire from three K’t’inga-Class battlecruisers. She boasted six Hydran-bought fusion beam cannon, and when finished would have had eight. She bore three photon tubes, and had hardpoints for seven Starfleet designed phasers. Despite her lower tech, she would have been a grand vessel for any planet’s navy. Had she survived long enough to be completed, that is…

Ron’jar knew that the Goesan built shield generators on the ‘kain would be slow to regenerate their protection after successive weapon strikes. The commander planned to exploit this. His eyes moved to the communications station. “Officer Nurrag, order the Whitehairs to maintain coarse and assume standard orbit. Order Commander Kodell to wait for the Goesans to enter weapons range before turning to engage. Upon initiation, enact Attack Pattern Rihansu-Rell.”

“Yes, Commander.” The very young Klingon replied as he plugged a command mic into his ear and began relaying the orders. Ron’jar liked the quiet, adolescent Nurrag. He was totally dedicated to the patterns of unending subspace signals flowing through the cosmos. He reminded the commander of himself to some extent, when he’d been young.

“Commander Kodell confirms message, Lord.” The com officer stated.

Ron’jar waited quietly, feeling the pulse of his ship about him as the small flashing yellow blips on the tactical readout traveled across the hexagon-patterned screen. They were close to gaining a firing position against the D-3s. The white cruiser silhouettes that were the Whitehairs continued their swift descent toward close orbit. Ron’jar admired the steep insertion angle Kodell was assuming as he aimed for the planet. It would allow him to use the planet’s own gravity to increase his speed when the Goesan warships opened fire. For a reserve House soldier, Kodell showed he knew what his ships could do. He knew that maneuverability was his greatest asset against the heavy guns of the battleship and he was damned well going to use the advantage.

Finally, the series of blips moved past Ron’jar’s own ship’s blinking silhouette and moved closer to the D-3s. The commander found himself relieved that the Goesans’ sensors had not detected his cloaked ship. His face showed none of it though. He’d long ago mastered the art of the ice-mask.  The Klingon still harbored little trust for such stealth technology, however. And such hiding still seemed…dishonorable.

“Engage main thrusters and close with the Goesan battle group.” Ron’jar called to the helm. Officer Da’than nodded, his back to the commander, as he plied his hands about the piloting controls. B’rel responded to his smooth touch and they were swiftly moving in unseen pursuit.

The alien ships grew larger in the center of the viewing screen. The dreadnought was a large, bumpy and wide craft. She bore the long, rounded hull that many races effected for simple starships. The design was easy to accomplish and utilitarian. Large impulse drivers with blue thrust flares swelled at the ship’s aft and just ahead were duel warp nacelles built close to the main hull. The forward section, Ron’jar knew from the schematics, housed an ovular, blue deflector dish built in just beneath the armored bridge module.

All Goesan starships bore the same paint scheme. A brilliant ocean blue trimmed in royal gold. They meant for their ships to be seen. Even the small, aftermarket escorts bought from the Hydran Monarchy had been repainted to match. Ron’jar considered the small, angular and lithe craft, then their larger command ship, and examined his options. He knew what Kodell was going to do.

Following the attack pattern laid out for him, he would strike the escorts and draw them away. The command ship would follow, though not as quickly with her slower acceleration curve. A gap would appear between the Goesa’kain and her escorts. How could he capitalize on this?

Truly, he did not have to battle these ships at all. His message had been sent to the fleet and the Alliance’s ships were on their way. In four hours, there would be enough firepower in-system to obliterate or capture the Goesan ships without risking even a single ship. But Ron’jar did not trust the Goesan commanders to sit idly by within their starsystem and not challenge the D-3 cruisers which were easily detectable within a quarter light year’s distance. No, to preserve the older cruisers under his command, he either had to order their complete withdrawal, thus delaying other operations, or attack.

Ron’jar always preferred to attack.

Deciding on an immediate coarse of action, Ron’jar watched as the Goesan warships entered weapons range and opened up at a long distance. Kodell’s ships maintained their coarse, sliding along the contour of the world below as though oblivious of the incoming danger. Several shots flashed by, their aim weak due to extreme range. A few torpedoes found their way home, though. Ron’jar noted that the enemy commander was quite sparing with his missile armament. He likely had a limited supply of the hard to fashion photonic weapons.

The lead D-3, the IKRS Keh’, took two photons in the deflector protecting her portside wing-hull. The old ship slued sideward under the assault, her ancient RCS system unable to keep her stable under such a pounding. But her shields remained intact. The Goesan guns quieted as their weapon banks recharged. The commander knew it would be some time before the Goesa’kain would be able to fire her fusion cannon again. The charge cycle on their capacitors was twenty seconds. And having fired off full volleys of photons, it would take a moment before they had any missiles to hurl at the D-3s as well.

The Goesan defenders closed in, and Ron’jar was just beginning to wonder when Kodell was going to make his move when the Goesa’kain opened fire with her photon banks again. Now she was hurling single shots from each tube in turn, allowing time for fresh torpedoes to load and arm so the assault was continuous. Again and again, the tiny, beleaguered cruisers bucked from successive impacts. Soon she would be adding the punch from her cannon.

Just as the battleship’s main cannon began to prime, The Keh’ turned on her axis, leading her sisters as she darted for the planet’s atmosphere. The ‘kain’s first shots went wide, and the last two torpedoes she fired lost tracking. Heat sheer quickly began to form on the bow shields of the speeding cruisers, and at the last moment before atmospheric contact, the trio pulled their noses high and bounced off the hard blanket of particles. Charged blue lances lashed out, carving swaths into the ground kilometers below, and the Hydran-built escorts pivoted to follow, their phasers ablaze. The commander had to smirk just a bit. Kodell had drawn away the escorts without firing a single shot.

As the D-3s raced away, allowing the smaller ships to dog them, Ron’jar studied the Goesa’kain.
The giant ship’s commander was leery of following the D-3s very close, and was certainly wary of getting too close to the planet. Ron’jar watched as the dreadnought slowed to the deadest of crawls and rotated to bring her main guns to bear on the Klingon vessels which were now at long range once again. The ‘kain presented a wide, sidelong target for the Bird of Prey. Ron’jar glanced at the sensor reading on her shield envelope.

Goesa’kain’s aft shielding was a joke. A single photon torpedo would knock a hole clean through it. Her sideboard shields were little better. Only her forward screens could take a beating. Ron’jar repressed a small smile as he watched the tactical screen. The escorts opened up way too large a gap as they chased the D-3s. The Goesa’kain sluggishly edged forward, either to close that gap or to assist in the chase. Which ever was the case, the defender ship had placed herself only a hundred kilometers above the planet’s upper ionosphere…

“Helm, ahead full!” He barked, pausing till he saw the skyline light with the blue wash of the ‘kain’s fusion cannon. “Drop the cloak! Gunner, target their impulse drive and fire at will!”
*******************************************************************************

There we go. Hope y'all like that little bit. I tried to post iyt in one chunk, but it was too long.I'm now up to date on chapters, having just started ch.8. The weakness noted above comes from the Mr. Scott's guide to the Enterprise and also from a cut away poster I have of the 1701, which had an even worse weakness. The actual warp core is on the other side of the shuttlebay bulkhead! Not just part of the shaft. I noticed several similarities between that poster and the deck chart of the Defiant in the Enterprise Mirror Universe episode.Which I loved by the by. I thought that Episode the best they's produced, and would have prefered more of the same rather than further shows of the 'normal' universe.

Any thoughts of what the next Trek production from Paramount should or even might be?

Bye.
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #38 on: May 24, 2005, 08:34:21 pm »
Great triple post, Ronjar! I tuned in just after you'd posted part one and was aboit to call you a nasty, evil man for stopping there. *grin*

So, I find two more parts and at once realise what you were wanting that first torp to do, and releived that it didn't get that far. Phew! That would have been an expanding ball of dust formerly holding the name USS Endeavour if that was the case! and well done on surprise tactic. That is a huge design flaw, if you can work close enough. What about all the one-way atmospheric forcefields within the shuttlebay though? We see at least one in The Motion Picture.

Great story, though. Had me hooked until the end. Keep it up!
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Offline Grim Reaper

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Re: Goesa'vaina
« Reply #39 on: May 25, 2005, 05:01:04 am »
It's a great Read man! Mighty impressive and a very pausible design flaw. Poor endavour! Poor Goesan ppl!

Btw, is klingon rule that hard indeed?
Snickers@DND: If there is one straight answer in that bent little head of yours, you'd better start spillin' it pretty damn quick, or I'm gonna take a large, blunt object, roughly the size of Kallae AND his hat and shove it lengthwise up a crevice of your being so seldomly cleaned that even the denizens of the nine hells would not touch it with a 10-feet rusty pole