[BIO COMP] - REFLECTION DAY 2 - BIOGRAPHY

Gareth GXV3

GXV3

[BIO COMP] - REFLECTION DAY 2 - BIOGRAPHY

August 27 2016
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REFLECTION DAY 2 - B I O - C O M P E T I T I O N

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As Part of the Reflection Day 2 Event, I asked you to be creative, and come up with your Characters Mirror/Pirate/Bounty hunter Biography, to give your character some depth on the day of the event.

Get Creative, give your choosen toon a back story.. are they aggressive, do they have a soft spot.. how did they acquire the ship they fly? where did they grow up? the slums of Bajor.. the vast city's of delta prime colony ..

Let your imagination run wild!




Submit your Biography and be in with a chance of winning Stonewall Credits to buy what ever you desire from the Stonewall Credit Store!

Take a look at last years Bio entry's -HERE- to maybe get some insperation, think dark Sci-fi movies.. Star wars.. farscape for further insperation

1st Place wins 4 SWCs
2nd Place wins 3 SWCs
3rd Place wins 2 SWCs


We can't wait to read what you come up with, pictures are welcome too to add flair!

(The Mirror Bio Submission Competition will Start when its opened.. & end the morning of 5th Sept )

3 people liked this
Edited August 27 2016 by GXV3
Gareth GXV3

GXV3

[BIO COMP] - REFLECTION DAY 2 - BIOGRAPHY

September 01 2016
#Reflectionday2

whooop! no entry's yet?

Dave (Voleron)

Voleron

[BIO COMP] - REFLECTION DAY 2 - BIOGRAPHY

September 01 2016


VOLERON BIOGRAPHY #REFLECTIONDAY2
MIRROR UNIVERSE: BOUNTY HUNTER VERSION

Voleron screamed in agony as the Romulan blade dragged slowly across his bare chest, each serration tearing through his exposed flesh and leaving copious amounts of bright red, oozing blood in it's wake.  The excruciating sensation of burning left by the multiple incisions of the dull and rusted utensil was second only to the chafing of the barbed metal wire that bound Voleron's extremities behind the interrogation style chair in which he'd been forcibly confined. 

"Did you really believe that you could murder me on my own vessel?" whispered the Romulan tormentor calmly, as he leaned slowly in to Voleron's left ear with a subdued but noticeable smirk of satisfaction on his face.  "I admire your audacity", he continued, "it's nearly fitting of a Romulan... though a Romulan wouldn't have allowed himself to be captured so easily."  Voleron breathed rapidly through his broken and bloodied nose, his heart rate increasing, waiting expectantly for the next round of inquisition style torment to begin.  Voleron's brisk inhalations detected the subtle, wafting odour of Romulan Ale on the breath of the young Tal Shiar commander, a bottle of which, he'd patiently observed his target consume in his quarters nearly an hour ago.  Voleron had concealed himself in the commander's sonic shower while waiting for an opportune moment to carry out his gruesome task, but as the minutes passed and his observations of his target through the semi-opaque glass continued, Voleron found himself strangely and quite unexpectedly captivated by the Romulan, whose delicate movements and defined body commanded attention, once released from the confines of his para-military uniform.  His had been a lonely life and so entranced had Voleron become by observing his prey that he'd not noticed that his presence had been detected.

A sudden and unexpected pain now traversed Voleron's head as the Commander back-handed him across his face, deviating the septum of his already fractured nose and delivering Voleron into temporary unconsciousness.  Such was the price of hesitation; for allowing emotions to supersede duty and for permitting himself a momentary emotional indulgence.  

**

Voleron had been only twenty-three when he'd been violently recruited as an agent for the temporal division of the Terran Empire's foreboding Section 31.  Trill were frequently conscripted for this dubious honour on account of their minds being inherently resistant to the degenerative effects of repeated time travel that were routinely suffered by other races; not that this prevented the Section from recruiting these races... they simply deteriorated into nothing more than mental vegetables by the conclusion of several years of loyal service.  For his part, Voleron had been hand-selected by the Section chief to be trained as a Temporal Bounty Hunter, though truthfully, he could only recall one occasion on which the bounty called for the target to be brought in alive, so he considered the title of Temporal Assassin to be rather more accurately descriptive of of his homicidal occupation.

The Section's temporal division had been bloodily birthed into existence when it single-handedly orchestrated the downfall of the Krenim civilization, plundering their laboratories and reaping the technological rewards: temporal weaponry.  Soon, the Section discovered, that it could use the technology to traverse and alter the timeline to their benefit, but rather than erasing entire civilizations from existence to achieve dominance as the Krenim did, the Section opted for a more insidious approach.  By sending temporal assets through time to erase specific individuals (typically military leaders and political figures) from existence, the Section could steer civilizations toward joining the Empire willingly and with minimal resistance.  Rather than eradicating an entire population, it's people would instead become loyal subjects of the Emperor, substantially expanding the Empire's influence throughout the galaxy.

**

The darkness of Voleron's vision receded, begrudgingly giving way to regained sight.  "The Tal Shiar are ever vigilant!", the nearly inebriated Romulan tormentor continued, as though suggesting that his quite accidental discovery of Voleron in his shower had been the inevitable result of Tal Shair infallibility.  "What is your mission here?!" he demanded.  Unwilling to expend the energy necessary to respond to the pointless question, Voleron slouched slowly forward in the chair, his head suspended over his knees, his arms outstretched and bound behind the back of the seat.  Voleron gazed upon the floor with blurred vision, his consciousness slowly again fading, in spite of his efforts to combat his exhaustion.  The room fell momentarily silent, leaving only the rhythmic echo of Voleron's dripping blood on the deck plating.

The brief moment of tranquillity was broken by the sparking of a stun baton that the commander had produced.  Voleron's body ached in anticipation of the rapidly incoming assault that he could peripherally see was destined for his exposed midsection.  The baton impacted Voleron's rib cage, sending electrical pulses through his convulsing body, causing him to screech in pain and overturn in the restraint chair.

With his own blood filled sputum dripping onto the deck from his mouth, and tears of agony welling in his eyes, Voleron began to softly laugh between frothy coughs, as he realized that his right hand had broken free of its restraint during the last barrage of violence.  Voleron had watched the Romulan drink the infected ale containing the temporal nanoprobes that unbeknownst to him, would by now have spread throughout his entire body.  All Voleron need now do was to activate the controller concealed in his arm to begin the temporal erasure of his persecutor from this very existence.  The Romulan looked inquisitively at Voleron, not fully comprehending the nature of his subdued laughter. 

Voleron gave pause, debating momentarily whether to commit murder for the 572nd consecutive time in as many weeks, for the mere political benefit of the damndable Empire.  Perhaps he should allow himself to be killed now, at the hands of the commander, rather than continue with his wretched, homicidal existence.  Voleron had become a puppet of Section 31... his life and every movement dictated by others for the greater glory of the Empire, and he was sick of it.  If he stayed in this time, perhaps the Romulan wouldn't kill him.  Maybe he'd instead keep Voleron as a prisoner.  Maybe there was a way that a relationship could evolve between them, however twisted in its origins.  As Voleron took a moment to contemplate his choices, the reinforced boot of the Tal Shiar commander made it's way mercilessly toward Voleron's face, causing instinct to force the decision that Voleron hadn't been able to resolve in just several short seconds of agony.  Voleron's right hand slammed down on the subdural actuator concealed in his left forearm, activating the nanoprobe controller and just barely preventing the incoming assault by the commander's boot.  A blinding blue light began to emerge from the Romulan's body as the temporal nanoprobes executed their lethal purpose, causing him to shriek in apparent pain as his very existence in time was disassembled piece by piece.  Building from within the Romulan, a massive wave like ripple erupted, producing a temporal tide that shot out in all directions, changing the timeline to reflect his non-existence.  Voleron's skin tingled as the temporal shockwave passed through him, creating an inexplicable sense of ecstasy as it entered and left his body. 

The frigid deck plating on which Voleron's semi-exposed body had been sprawled out, turned from Romulan green to a bluish tinge familiar to the interior of Terran Empire vessels.  The Empire's logo and banners now adorned the walls of the ship, signalling once again, that Voleron's task was complete.  Voleron lay quivering on the floor as the last euphoric effects of the temporal shockwave, the temporal effects from which he was genetically shielded, left his body.

Voleron dug into his waistband and produced a temporal transponder, which he activated to return to his own time.  Such is the lonely and burdensome life of an assassin, he mulled, as a transporter beam whisked his injured body from this time and on to a new mission.


Unknown Person liked this
Edited September 01 2016 by Voleron
Rob

Duriansol

[BIO COMP] - REFLECTION DAY 2 - BIOGRAPHY

September 02 2016
Why the Federation Must Fall

Durian Sol sat down in the captain's chair on the bridge and tapped the communications panel, "Assemble the senior staff in the conference room, deck one." Sol leaned back in his chair and turned his face toward the operations station on his left. "Commander Suran, is there someone available to take your station?"

"Aye sir, one of the chiefs is on his way up," the Hekaran went back to tapping at the panel before turning around to the wall console behind him.

"Good, I'll be in the conference room." Sol pushed himself up from the chair, squeezing the leather of the armrests. He hopped the three steps to the upper level and slipped between the doors to the conference room. He sat down in the chair at the head of the table. He picked up his padd and started to skim it again. He was rereading the orders from the admiralty.

The doors hissed open and two officers walked in; two women, one human and one Bajoran wearing operations-yellow. "Good morning, sir," said the Bajoran. 

"Good morning, Lieutenant Paro." Sol nodded to each, "Lieutenant Black." Sol resumed reading over the briefing, quietly.

"Larren, seriously, you've never been to Earth?" Lt. Black asked as she sat across the table from Paro.

"No, I haven't."

"How did you get through the Academy?"

"I didn't." 

Sol looked up to watch the exchange. Lt. Black still didn't appear to believe Paro Larren's claim about not attending the Academy. "It really is simple," he said. "She was given a field commission by Starfleet Command. Lt. Paro was a captain in the Bajoran Militia."

Lt. Black looked back and forth between Sol and Larren, "I didn't know you could do that?" 

The doors slid open admitting Lieutenant Commander Suran and the ship's chief medical officer, Commander Sovank. Suran took a chair to the left of Sol, while the Vulcan took the first chair by the doors.

"Yes," Larren said. "With my commission in the Bajoran Militia and the new military alliance between Bajor and the Federation, it was an exchange program of sorts."

"Good morning, Doctor." Sol said, and nodded to Suran. "The lieutenants, here, were just discussing how Lieutenant Paro was given her commission without attending the Academy. Well, let's get this show on the road..."

"Sir," Sovank interrupted, "forgive me, but it would appear that our executive officer is not here yet."

"Ah, yes," Sol said. "Commander Alexy is bringing the final member of our staff to the bridge. They'll be along shortly. Before they arrive, I'd like to explain a bit about what his role will be. The war has been over for several years, and ship development and exploration has been the driving factor of the Federation for the past several years.

"The Romulan Empire and the Klingons have finally stopped being at each other's throats. With the Romulan civil war between the old and new governments, there are dissenters on New Romulus and our early intelligence says that the new faction has begun calling themselves the Imperial State and carry the backing of a good portion of the Romulan military.

"The technology on this ship is crucial to our ability to reestablish ourselves and be on hand to protect our allies near the borders of the Klingon-Romulan empires."

The doors hissed open and the executive officer, Commander Dummas Alexy entered the conference room followed by an older man wearing a yellow dress uniform and a single rank marker. Sol stood up from the table, "Ah, Ensign Oswald, welcome aboard." Sol extended his right hand and offered to shake.

Alexy gave Sol a look of disappointment. *The ensign isn't very friendly, I suppose.*

Sol lowered his hand, "Well, Ensign, please sit down." He waved a hand toward the open seat at his right. "I was just bringing everyone up to speed on why we are going to have a MACO detachment stationed on board."

The captain returned his attention to the five officers that had been sitting at the table as Alexy took the last empty seat between Oswald and Black. "As I was saying, with the state of the beta quadrant and the activity of the Borg on the other side of the Romulan Empire. There is always the risk that they will end up in a multifront war to save themselves.

"The Federation President has issued that we will support our Romulan allies as requested, but we're to stay clear of the conflict as much as possible. Our peace with the Klingons is shaky, and we don't want to enter into a new war ourselves.

"The MACOs will be on hand to protect the ship and its secrets from non-federation hands. Let's just say, it is a reminder that we can't risk another Prometheus event."

Sol nodded to Alexy, who picked up the briefing, "Our first order of business is to take the Halsey on her maiden voyage. If we are successful, we'll bring the ship back to Earth for her unveiling. Admiral Johansson will be on board with us for the initial flight to observe the new engine. Lieutenant Black, the admiral will be taking up residence in the quantum engine room, you'll be assigned as his liaison. 

"We'll be picking up a few more crew members once we arrive at Vulcan. Suran, make arrangements in the shuttle bay, we'll also be picking up two peregrine starfighters and the new Delta-class shuttle from the Eridani A Construction Yards.

"Lastly, Lieutenant Paro, you'll be assigned as the MACO liaison." Larren jerked her head to look at the XO.

Sol spoke up, "We want you to work with their officers and integrate them into the security teams. They won't stand tactical, but we will utilize their expertise and their skills as part of the security rotation." 

Larren simply nodded and then glanced back at the XO then her CO. A tinge of apprehension on her face.

Sol again sat down in his chair, "Now then everyone, let's hear your reports.."

Commander Alexy reported first, "Sir, of the ship's personnel, we have the 54 of the skeleton crew we're assigned to take on the trip to Vulcan. Additionally, we have 4 Vulcan scientists, 3 Daystrom personnel, and Rear Admiral Johansson. I've issued the lock-down order for this evening at 1900 hours, all personnel assigned to depart with us in the morning will be accounted for and all base personnel will be off-ship."

"Thank you, Commander."

Black spoke second, thinking that it would be a simple matter of going around the table. "Both engineering chiefs are reporting that everything appears to be up and running accordingly. We are still coordinating with base engineers to finalize our status. It would appear that the systems are all good to go. We're planning on firing up the warp core this afternoon, and the quantum drive in the morning before the flight."

Alexy cut in, "How early are you wanting to start the quantum drive?"

"We are scheduled to launch at 0830, and we thought that we'd light off no sooner than once we're 1000 kilometers from Jupiter Station," Black said.

Alexy asked another question, "Is that going to keep us on schedule?"

"Yes sir. My estimation is that from start-up to launch ready, the system only takes about twenty minutes. If we start the fire-up process immediately at safe distance from the station, then we'll only be on site for maybe 5 minutes before we're ready to go. That is, sirs, if there _are_ problems with the process."

"Thank you, Lieutenant, anything else?" Sol asked.

"No sir."

"Very well. Doctor?" Everyone's attention moved to the Vulcan in blue.

"Sickbay is set up, we have minimal medical personnel, Captain." He was known for keeping his comments short. Sol worried about the Vulcan's bedside manner.

"Thank you, Doctor." Sol turned to Larren. "Lieutenant Paro?"

"Sirs, we have enough security personnel for two full teams. Currently, I am the only officer reported for duty and will be at Tactical for our launch in the morning. If I may ask, when are the MACOs reporting?"

Sol looked at Alexy, "Commander?"

"They're all waiting at Vulcan, I sent them a message to brief the entire unit and the wing commander on our role aboard the Halsey."

"Thank you, Colonel. Commander Suran, what's the ops report?"

The Hekaran sat forward and leaned his elbows on the table, "Sir, all systems appear to be working correctly. All sensors have passed diagnostics and the astrometric navigational system has been cleared. Commander Posan has volunteered to pilot us out in the morning, if that is acceptable."

"I'll leave that to Alexy."

Alexy said, "That's fine by me." He looked at Sol, *Sir?*

Suran continued his report, but Alexy and Sol weren't listening. *I know Commander Posan very well, he's a good friend of mine. If I give him the approval, then I risk showing favoritism.*

*Well, I just gave the approval.*

*Yes, that's fine. What did Suran just say?*

"Sir?" Suran asked.

"I... sorry, I got distracted. What was that?"

"There was a minor diagnostic discrepancy in the port aft long range sensor, a second diagnostic didn't show anything."

"Contact the base, have one of their folks come take a look at it."

"Yes sir."

"Is that everyone?" Sol looked around the table, "Okay then, you're dismissed." Sol turned to his XO and Larren, "Would you like to join the Commander and I for lunch?"

"If you wish sir," she said while pushing herself to her feet.

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A few hours later
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Dummas sat at the captain's table in the wardroom. He was absently picking at his salad when Sol came in. One of the deck crew called out `Captain on deck.' Dummas looked up, but went back to picking at his salad. Sol ordered a Cobb salad from the replicator and sat down in his special seat at the head of the table. "Commander, is everything okay?"

Dummas looked up at Sol with weary eyes, "Aye, sir. It's just been a long day." His voice was flat and quiet.

"You'd better get some good sleep tonight, Dummas. I'm counting on you to get us to Vulcan in one piece tomorrow."

Dummas let out a heavy breath, "I don't think that will be a problem, Sol. We've ran hundreds of simulations, everything should be fine. The fail-safes are all in place, I know because I spent the last 6 hours double checking each and every one of them."

"And we all appreciate that." Sol leaned forward over the table and whispered to his tablemate, "We'll be fine. We have one of the best crews available. Almost every single member of the crew has been involved in this ship's design and construction at some level in the past two years. Just relax, Dummas."

Cmd. Alexy cracked a one-sided smile, "I am relaxed, and that is why I feel so damn tired." Both men laughed together. "We're still waiting for the Admiral's assistant to arrive. She's a Bajoran woman, fresh from the academy and just recently assigned to the Admiral. I hope she hasn't gotten lost between Earth and here."

"Dummas," Sol chided him. "Come, now. You, too, were an ensign once."

Dummas pushed himself back in mock anger, "Blasphemy! I renounced such wasteful youth days and all the history that went with it." The two laughed again.

Chirp. =/\= Captain, there's a priority two message incoming. =/\=

Sol tapped his combadge, "Put it through to my ready room. I'll be there in a minute." He tapped his badge again. "If you'll excuse me, Dummas."

"No, please, I remember why I never wanted your job. At least I get to eat my dinner."

"Ha! You haven't taken a single bite since I came in."

Dummas smiled wide and shoved a huge forkful of leaves and egg white in his mouth. He nearly started choking on it while the two laughed one last time.

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Captain's Ready Room - a few minutes later
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Lt. Cmdr Eras Posan was sitting in the XO chair as the beta shift watch officer. He seemed to be humming to himself as he watched data streams course across the middle console. Sol gave him a friendly nod and stepped into his ready room. 

A screen integrated onto the desktop flashed to the Federation Seal and then to the familiar face of the Dr. Leah La Forge, Director of Theoretical Propulsion from the Daystrom Research Institute. "Good evening, Dr. La Forge," Sol said as he sat down behind his desk and pushed his salad to the side.

"Good evening, Captain." Her sharp, blue eyes peered through the screen at him. "I'm calling wish your crew well on your trip."

"Thank you, Doctor. If you'll hold for a minute or two, I'll summon the staff and you can address them all at once."

"That isn't necessary, Captain Sol."

"I think it would be greatly appreciated by the crew if you'd say a few words."

She looked away from the screen for a moment, "Very well."

"Excellent," Sol said with a bit of a flourish. "One moment." Sol tapped a button, "Assemble the senior staff on the bridge." He turned back to the image on the desk, "See you on the bridge, Doctor." Sol stood up from his desk and walked out onto the bridge. Sol stopped in front of his command chair as Eras Posan stood.

Eras turned to Sol, "Sir?"

Sol lifted his hand signaling Eras to sit back down. The cat-man curled his tail around the left side of his legs and sat back down. He looked across the bridge to the ops console, "Chief, please bring Doctor La Forge on the main viewscreen."

"Aye, captain."

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Very Early Morning Hours
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At three o'clock in the morning, the ship sat silently docked alongside Jupiter Station. The sun glimmered like an over-sized star in the distance. A small dark line eclipsed the southern edges of the inner system. Dark behemoths drifting slowly around, endlessly slumbering and waiting for time to spend itself out. One system among dozens, among thousands of dozens circling the center of the bar-spiral galaxy we call "the Milky Way." 

Somewhere else, a small ship was barely noticeable from anywhere outside of its own hull. A small smattering of life-signs may have been noticeable, if any other ship were in the sector and just happen to take notice and scan the ship for life-signs. Each life-sign was moving around in little box compartments, some pushed buttons, others stared at diagnostic screens, and others just shuffled around corridors and passageways going from one place to another.

There was one, however, that was still. He sat very still and brooded alone in his chair. A dull, reddish star loomed outside the ship. His viewscreen filtered out the harmful levels of light radiation and intensity. Even then, the lone being narrowed his eyes at the screen. He was troubled with his orders, he wasn't military, so why was he instructed to this task?

Another being, a female, entered the bridge. The first glanced at her, she nodded to him. She stood behind a console and began doing what so many others already were doing, she tapped controls and looked at diagnostics. The computer chirps and clicks were becoming annoying. The male returned to his brooding, a couple of fingers pressed to his temple, rubbing small circles in an attempt to push the annoying ache from his skull.

He spoke only one word to the red star, "soon."

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0630 Hours
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A Trill woman materialized in front of Sol. Her graying hair looked more silvery than usual next to the black spots adorning the sides of her face. Her long tunic shirt was a simple pinkish-gray and reached down to her knees. "Oh, sweetie, good morning." Her tired voice echoed softly in the room.

"Good morning, mother," Sol said. He reached out and pulled her into a short hug.

"Morning? What time is it there?"

"It’s around six-thirty in the morning here."

"Are you leaving soon, then?"

"Yes, ma'am. We're supposed to get underway in about two hours."

"I'm so proud of you, honey. Your father said to tell you hello, he's out in the fields right now. I really wish you two weren't still angry with each other." Her green eyes began to glisten, like an early tear trying desperately to be born.

"I'm not angry, mom. He and I just don't agree on what I should be doing out here. He doesn't believe in risking my life to develop this type of technology, or risking Sol's life either."

"Honey, you know your father. He just wants you safe, and to protect his son. We're both proud of you, not only for starfleet but also for being the first joined member of the family in four generations."

"Mom...," Sol lowered his face to the floor.

"I know, sweetie," she said as she pulled him closer. "How is Dummas?"

Sol met her eyes, "He's fine and a good XO." She gave him a credulous look. "Don't look at me like that." He playfully pushed her back. "He's fine. I'll tell him to call you later."

"You'd better." She pulled him into another, final hug. "Well, our lunch is almost ready, I'd hate for it to burn. You call me again as soon as you get to Vulcan, do you hear?"

"Yes ma'am." Sol stood at full attention.

"Computer, end transmission," as she finished her words she fizzled away leaving Sol standing alone in the holosuite. 

He walked back to the door and stepped back into his routine. It was time to get his ship underway. =/\=Bridge to the Captain. Sir, we're ready to start the undocking procedures.=/\=

Sol tapped his combadge, "Very good, proceed. I'll be there in a moment." He stepped across the hall from the holo-communications office to Admiral Johansson's temporary quarters. The doors chirped and a moment later the Admiral in full dress uniform stepped through his secondary door to Sol's left. "Good morning, Admiral. We're ready to get underway and undocking procedures have already been started."

"Very good." He replied as they walked to the nearest turbolift and headed for the bridge.

The turbolift doors hissed open allowing Sol and the Admiral to enter the bridge. Dummas was standing to the right of the conn station. Eras slid his chair side to side, tapping buttons as quickly as his feline reflexes allowed.

At port-forward station, a woman sat tapping away. Her gray collar gave her away as an intelligence officer. At the ops station to his left, Sol noted the Hekaran, Suran. In between chirps and whistles, Suran called out checks as they were cleared during the undocking process.

Admiral Johansson had crossed the bridge and sat down in the bridge officer's chair. Dummas and Sol shared a look that said something like, really? Dummas turned to the engineering station at starboard-forward and started getting a report from the male engineer at the station.

Sol leaned on the edge of the tactical station, "What's our status?"

Lieutenant Paro looked up from her screen, "We've cleared all personnel on board. I have a few two-man teams sweeping around the ship. So far, everyone is accounted for."

"What's the status the undocking?"

Dummas walked up and reported, "We're right on schedule, sir. The power umbilical was disconnected last night and we've been running on our own generators for about 12 hours now. The docking clamps have been released and the walkways have been withdrawn by the base. We're ready to start maneuvering, on your command."

Sol stood back up, and tugged his tunic back down to straighten it out. "Commander, I grant you standing permission as the watch officer. If I disagree with any of your orders, I'll counteract you. Carry on."

"Aye, sir." Dummas turned back to the full bridge, "Suran, notify the base that we're ready to begin maneuvering. Let me know when we have permission to pull away."

"Aye, sir." 

Dummas walked down to the front area and took the open chair next to the admiral. "Commander Posan, please plot an appropriate course to exit the base. Engage on my mark."

Suran spoke up from the Ops station, "Sir, we have clearance to depart."

"Thank you. Mr. Posan?"

"On your mark, sir."

"Very good, engage, thrusters only."
"Thrusters engaged." 

The view screen's images began to drift, giving the impression of an open window. The gray walls of the interior of the base and various flashing and guidance lights moved around the screen. For anyone not used to the effect, a bit a nausea was expected according to the ship's doctor. Sol looked away from the viewscreen for that very reason.

He started to smile uncontrollably, the pride of his first command tried to burst from his chest. Sol's memories came stirring through him, he's been an executive officer twice, he's captained a space barge, and he's been a liaison to the Federation. This was different, this command was special. This was his first command as a captain of starfleet, and it was an experimental ship at that. It had some of the finest technology ever developed, all wrapped in a proven shell based on the Intrepid design.

"Sir?" Sol's eyes refocused. Suran was trying to get his attention. "Sir, Lieutenant Black is in engineering would like to speak with you."

"Ah, yes, sorry." Sol walked past the master situation display in the back of the bridge and stepped beside the Hekaran. "Bring her up." Suran tapped a button that opened the channel. "Good morning, Lieutenant. What can I assist you with?"

=/\=Sir, you informed me that the admiral was going to be down here. There's been no sign of him yet this morning.=/\=

"He's here on the bridge, would you like me to inform him that you're ready to give him the tour?"

=/\=Whenever he's ready, sir.=/\= Her speech was professional, but the look on her face said "please don't."

"Very well, Lieutenant. I expect that Admiral Johansson will be down when we're clear of the base and ready to start-up the drive. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

=/\=No, sir. We're standing by to start-up the drive once we're safely clear of the station.=/\=

"Commander Alexi has the watch, he'll give you permission. Sol, out." The screen went black. He looked at Suran, "thank you." Sol stepped down and walked around to stand over the shoulder of Johansson. He looked back at the viewscreen to see the gaping doors of the outer hull of the station opening to let the ship out into open space.

Dummas spoke up and stood up, "Commander Posan, please chart a second course, take us to the edge of the system at one quarter impulse. Mr. Suran, please notify engineering that we'll be ready to fire up the quantum drive in just a few moments." Dummas stepped up to the center of the bridge railings and placed his hands on each side of the space.

The ship slipped between the giant bay doors with enough space to actually pass two more ships above and below, and if she hugged the port side, a fourth ship could have passed next to her. After only a few moments Eras stated, "Sir, we're clear of the hull."

Dummas sighed, "Good." He stood up straight and looked over at Ops, "Let the base know we're clear and we're going to fire our impulse engines." He was met with a quiet nod from Suran. Dummas turned back to the conn and waited for the base to reply.

"Sir," Suran called out. "We're clear and approved. They are wishing us good luck and safe journey."

"Thank you, Suran. Eras, you're clear to take us out of the system."

"Aye sir. We'll be at safe distance for drive start-up in five minutes and at jump distance in 45 minutes at current speed."

"Bridge to Lieutenant Black." Dummas said.

=/\=Black here, go ahead.=/\=

"We're clear of the base, we'll be at safe distance to start up the drive shortly. How long from start-up to full readiness?"

=/\=Sir, by my estimation, we will only need 25 minutes to be completely ready.=/\=

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Bridge, out." He turned to face Sol, "Conn, once we are at safe distance for the start-up, increase speed to half-impulse." A gentle nod from his captain reassured the green XO.

"Aye, sir." If anyone was looking at Eras, you'd see him attempting a human-like smile again.

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2 am somewhere in the Delta Quadrant
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Sol sat up, covered in sweat. *Flashbacks, the doc said I’d have flashbacks* Sol had lost that ship to some raiders shortly after the first flight. The crew made it to Vulcan, and received a distress signal from the Romulan Empire. The Admiral received instructions and the Halsey was ordered to respond. As the fastest ship in any fleet, she was to engage the quantum drive and investigate.

Upon arrival, several things happened at once, most of which Sol couldn’t remember. Ships dropped out of temporal portals, borg cubes appeared and disappeared in flashes, and the entire ship began to fall apart around him. Alexy Dummas, his best friend and lover, seemed to cease to exist.

In the weeks that followed, Starfleet issued a MIA order on the Halsey and declared the entire crew dead. Reports indicated that the ship supported the Romulan fleet against a wave of Borg command vessels that had come from the Delta quadrant and wiped out almost the entire contingent.

Sol knew that’s not what happened. He knew the truth, and when Federation bureaucrats wanted to cover up the failing that was the quantum drive, they’d fabricated the story to tell the families of the crew. Sol was the lone survivor, medically incapacitated on orders from command. A family member of Larren was on a diplomatic mission from Bajor, or at least that was the cover story. This mystery bajoran was able to inject some counter-agent and released Sol from his slumber. 

Sol remembers walking out of the hospital surrounded by shadows and blurred memories. He was transported onto a ship before losing consciousness again. It was a few more days and three more transports before he really regained a sense of what was going on. The flashbacks were overwhelming, and remembered screaming before being held down and put back to sleep by his saviors or captors. He never could decide.

Then after a few weeks, he was introduced to the crew. A series of briefs brought him up to speed on how the Maquis were informed of the truth about what happened, and Sol knew that he had no choice but to join them in order to expose the truth himself. He was taken out to the Delta Quadrant through a trading vessel that smuggled him through the dyson sphere network. Once there, a small crew were assembled and they captured a Kazon raider. 

He’d found purpose again, and for the most part, the memories began to fade as his passion drove him forward. He named his ship, Serenity.
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Edited September 02 2016 by Duriansol
Lars Zandor

Lars_Zandor

[BIO COMP] - REFLECTION DAY 2 - BIOGRAPHY

September 02 2016
[Although this story is perfectly fine in itself, for context of some of the interactions or introductions to some of the characters, it might be fun to read this story too]

A Mirror In Her Prime

"Well, you all know what to do, ladies and gentlemen. Attack Pattern Zandor Alpha." Admiral Zandor, commanding the U.S.S. Leviathan, sat down in her chair. The Leviathan, a T6 Odyssey Tactical Cruiser, the Admiral's flagship, sturdy and powerful, there was not a whole lot that could do serious damage to this ship, yet somehow, Zandor always found adversaries that were more than a match for her. Not this time though. A Hirogen Hunter Heavy Escort was about to attack the Leviathan. Absolutely nothing to worry about.


The Hirogen ship made its first attack run. Aside from the fact that it was using rather powerful phaser cannons, nothing unexpected happened. The Hirogen ship shot a couple heavy bursts of cannon fire and some torpedoes at the Leviathan before shooting right past it, all the while being shot at with all 7 antiproton beams and the cutting beam from the Leviathan. Then it turned around and shot at the Leviathan again. This time however, the Hirogen ship used it's full attack power.
"Report!" ordered Admiral Zandor in her usual British accent while she stood up. She was thrown out of her chair by an explosion behind her. Commander Dragovic, her first officer, responded. His deep voice summed up the damage:
"Shields are down to 60 percent, engines are damaged, warp drive still works, but we can't go faster than warp six, weapon banks two and six are down, as is the cutting beam, casualties on almost all decks, but no deaths." Slightly shocked by the damage this one Hirogen ship had caused so out of the blue, Zandor ordered medic and engineering teams in place.
"The Hirogen ship is coming about for another attack run!" Jhemyl warned. Zandor ordered:
"Evasive manouvres. Jhemyl, fire at will. All hands, brace for impact!"

This time the attack was so devastating that the Leviathan became utterly inoperable. Shields were down, power to weapons was completely gone and the port nacelle was obliterated, completely removing the ability to go to warp.
"Ah, damn. Haven't had that rough a back massage since that Jem'Hadar beauty clinic on DS9." Blackmore, the engineering bridge officer, stood up and helped the Admiral on her feet again.
"Erica, that was a martial arts contest. That you lost." Tirih sarcastically remarked while she was getting reports from all over the ship (Dragovic was unconscious but fine). As the painfull memories returned to Blackmore, Zandor pondered the situation they were in. Eventually she came to the conclusion that there was no other choice.
"Tirih, send a message to Allied Command. Explain our situation and request reinforcements." Tirih did as ordered. The very moment she had sent the message though, the Hirogen ship sent a file to the Leviathan.

Fugitive Dossier #20160902

"Is that,-"
"Me? Yes, it seems so, but the file mentions the Terran Empire. So this must be from the Mirror Universe." Zandor cut Jhemyl off. "It seems she wants to speak to me in my ready room. Get the away team up here. If I'm still in there in five minutes and you haven't heard anything from me, order them in." Without waiting for any kind of acknowledgement, Zandor walked into her ready room.

Mirror Zandor sat in Admiral Zandor's chair, behind her desk.
"Really? A ponytail? Great, my other me is boring." Mirror Zandor stood up and walked to the Admiral.
"What do you want? You don't belong here." Admiral Zandor said sternly.
"Calm down. We get to that. Let me first look at you. Me, you, whatever." Mirror Zandor walked a circle around Admiral Zandor, taking in every similarity and difference. "Interesting, isn't it. The only differences between us are what we can choose. Our hairstyles, our clothing, the scars we might have." The Admiral looked at her Mirror. She was right, it was interesting. The Mirror stood in front the Admiral now, and they looked each other in the eye. Even their eye colour was the same.
Before the Admiral knew what was happening, the Mirror kissed her full on the mouth and put a hand between the Admiral's legs. The Admiral pushed the Mirror away, hit her in the face and stumbled a bit back before she blurted out:
"What the hell?"
As she said that, her away team, those on the Leviathan that are usually the best equipped to handle any situation, stormed the ready room. A Caitian tactical officer, a Kobali engineer, a Kelvin Android and a female Cardassian, all armed with Tr-116B's, aimed at both Zandors.
"Are you alright, Admiral?" The Cardassian asked.
"I am fine, Gilora. S'Tarr, Andy and Netteya, stand outside please. Gilora, keep an eye on our Mirror friend here." By the time they all left, the Mirror was sitting comfy on the couch. The Admiral sat in a chair opposite the couch, with a glass table between them. Gilora stood at the Admiral's left side. "Why did you kiss me?" Gilora looked somewhat surprised from the Admiral to the Mirror. The Mirror looked Gilora right in her eyes, grinning like a schoolgirl who had just fallen in love for the first time:
"I wondered what it would be like, kissing myself." As she turned her head towards the Admiral, she continued. "Now I can't help wonder one more thing though. Would having sex with you count as mas,-"
"Why are you here?" The Admiral cut the Mirror off. The Mirror looked somewhat disappointed, but confessed.
"We accidentally got stranded here. We were being pursued by several Terran ships. They closed in on us and the only way for us to escape was to disappear. So we did. Into your universe. They managed to take a couple of shots at us though, before the singularity we came through closed. We survived, but they did enough damage that we can't go back anymore. Now, me and the crew have been talking. There isn't really anything for any of us back there. You saw my file. We're outlaws, rogues, fugitives. Hell, had we lived 800 years ago, we would have been pirates, fighting buccaneers and the British navy alongside the Black Pearl and the Aquila, partying on Tortuga and plundering Port Royale." The Mirror sighed. She was showing her real self now and looked exhausted. After a bit she continued. "We're tired, Admiral. We want out. We want a place to call home, instead of of being cramped up into a tiny ass ship."
The Admiral had been listening attentively. It was interesting, hearing herself asking for... What was her Mirror asking for actually? A place to settle down, some faraway planet to colonise? Granted, it is an attractive idea, but there was a problem. She could never settle down and a mirror is only a mirror in appearance. But the Mirror wasn't done yet.
"Of course, we don't expect that this will just be given to us. We're willing to work for it, some way or another. Me and Gilora - yes, I have a Gilora too - have been part of the Terran military for quite some time, as have others. Some of my crew have also been part of resistance movements against the Terran Empire. We know they are invading your universe and we're willing to give you intel, a lot of intel for this. And as you have experienced yourself, we have a lot of skills. We are willing to lend your Federation those skills. Whether you send us into battle against the Terran Empire or if you want a discreet bounty hunter, we can help you with that. Just say the word." The Admiral responded:

"Lets get a few things out in the open first. I don't trust you. For all I know, you're send here to lull me into a false sense of security and you intend to lay a trap for me or some other Federation ship or hell, a whole fleet. But I do have a duty. My duty is to help those that are in need of help. So I will put you in the care of Starfleet Intelligence. I will however, also keep a strict eye on you. Know that wherever I am or whatever I'm doing, I know exactly where you are. At even only the slightest indication you're about to turn on us, I will personally hunt you down and that time I will disable your ship. Because we both know that with the power you put into your weapons out there, you did as much damage to your own ship as you did to mine." The Mirror agreed and the three of them walked onto the bridge.

Later that day, Admiral Zandor and Gilora were at the U.S.S. Bak'rikan, a Cardassian Galor in Zandor's fleet and one of the ships that responded to the distress call. Zandor's first officer, Dragovic, was overseeing the return of the Leviathan to the nearest Starbase for reparations, along with a skeleton crew. The rest of the crew was also on the Bak'rikan, whereas the members of the Mirror's gang were confined to quarters on the U.S.S. Hyperion, a fleet assault cruiser also in Zandor's fleet. Zandor and Gilora were eating dinner in their quarters. As this was usually one of the few moments she allowed herself to speak her mind and show her emotions, Gilora couldn't help but to say:
"It was kind of sexy though."
"Hmmph?" was all what Zandor managed to get out with her mouth full of cauliflower.
"The both of you, with your British accents." Gilora smiled deviously at Zandor. It wasn't often she managed to surprise Zandor in such a way she didn't know what to say...
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Edited September 02 2016 by Lars_Zandor
Gareth GXV3

GXV3

[BIO COMP] - REFLECTION DAY 2 - BIOGRAPHY

September 02 2016
For some reason Im unable to edit my original post to fix the broken links people have asked for in chat (to direct them to last years bio comp)

But here is the link below..

http://www.stonewallgaming.net/index.php/forums/threads/44737-event-mirror-bios-part-of-reflection-day

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Ted Hembach

TLara

[BIO COMP] - REFLECTION DAY 2 - BIOGRAPHY

September 03 2016
ARDITA MIRROR EGO - ASSASSIN - REFLECTION DAY 2


*** TERRAN EMPIRE SECURITY DETENTION REQUEST ***

Commander Ardita, #TE ARDITA DJ-69-2069, wanted for immediate detention and extradition to a Terran penal facility to face accusations about crimes she presumably committed. These accusations are (in order of commitment):
* Untrustworthy behavior in service of the Terran Empire
* Desertion while on active duty
* Aggravated theft, namely the Patrol Escort Starship ISS Diego Reyes
* Attemted assassination of Vice-Admiral Jake Sisko
* Insubordination
The fugitive is armed and potentially dangerous. It must be assumed that she is in control of the Terran Starship ISS Diego Reyes. Current location of the  ISS Diego Reyes is unknown, last confirmed position of the starship was in the orbit of Bajor. The use of brute force while taking her into custody is advised.

BIOGRAPHICAL OVERVIEW (excerpt)
Ardita was born on a Ferengi Luxury Gambling Cruiser. When she was six, a joint action of the Orion Syndicate and some terran marauders took over the ship and helped the slaves aboard to escape. Arditas mother was killed in the ambush, while Ardita made it to a safehouse on a small non-aligned trade post. There she joined the Orion Cabal, a murderous cult actively worshipping an evil deity named Q. It is rumored that she is part of the so-called "Assassins of Q", a group of elite killers within the Orion Cabal. 
There are no further informations about her education available (classified by the Orion Procurer's Guild, see file OPG27r49AoQ).

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE (excerpt)
Ardita is very treacherous and not to be trusted. She lied about her origins, especially in matters of her relationship to the Orion Cabal. She used malicious deception and fraud to gain access to the terran forces, she even falsified her curriculum vitae to get aboard a terran starship. 

VITAL STATISTICS
Height 1.76m; Weight 56kg; Violet hair; Eyes brown; Skin green;
Specialisation unknown;
Average efficiency/COIND-Rating unknown;
Service record filed under #TE ARDIA DJ-69-2069

ATTACHMENT
Latest Picture taken on Bajor by Terran Section 31, Stardate classified by request of the agent.

*** End of file ***

2 people liked this
Edited September 03 2016 by TLara
Gareth GXV3

GXV3

[BIO COMP] - REFLECTION DAY 2 - BIOGRAPHY

September 05 2016
Thank you to @Voleron, @Duriansol, @Lars1091 amd @TLara fot the fantastic entries.
It was hard for us in the Resource Dept to pick the best read.
But the winners are....

1st Place #Voleron : (4 SWCs) Well done on the Dark atmosphere you created, 99% evil and robotic in emotion, 1% of warmth and hope showed in the mirror Voleron for that fraction of a second.
It really was a great read, and gave a little glimpse into the life of a Bounty hunter (which we would like to read more of)

2nd Place Lars : (3 SWCs) Having your back story of the Original character gave it some depth, as well as the wanted poster we though was a great touch.. and the line "Ah, damn. Haven't had that rough a back massage since that Jem'Hadar beauty clinic on DS9."
A great insight in what you would do if you were in a room alone with an exact copy of yourself ;)

3rd Place Duriansol : (2 SWCs) What a read!!! you put a lot of effort into that bio and it was welcomed, it was cool to see how a federation officer changed.. his whole life changed! without spoilers its hard to sum up. but a different take on Mirror issues. Thank you!!

4th Place TLara : (2 SWCs) A perfect Bio summery, to the point, and rounded out your Mirror toon just nicely, you brought her character out during the Costume contest i noticed, dark and short burst responses taht was cool.. and an amazing picture too! thank you Tlara!

#Reflectionday2

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Dave (Voleron)

Voleron

[BIO COMP] - REFLECTION DAY 2 - BIOGRAPHY

September 05 2016
It was so awesome to read everyone's #Reflectionday2 biographies!  I love these writing events and all of the creativity that it brings out; reading everyone's entries was so much fun... can't wait for the next!

Unknown Person

[BIO COMP] - REFLECTION DAY 2 - BIOGRAPHY

September 06 2016
Great reads, all. I wanted to participate and had some ideas worked out, but sadly just didn't have the time to actually put it together. The past few days of RL have been...strange. I might throw it together anyway and put it somewhere, just for the hell of it.

Congratulations!
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