"Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder" [Nem-Era Proposal]

This is the place to discuss the various Star Traks series and stories.
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"Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder" [Nem-Era Proposal]

Post by JHauck »

"Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder"
[New Series Proposal]

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by Jason K. Hauck of "Star Trek: New Worlds" fan fic anthology.

http://stnewworlds.webs.com

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Olde Calendar Date:

12 August 2380

Premise:

The Romulans, now homeless and uncertain of their place in the Alpha + Beta Quadrants, are being relocated wherever they can find a suitable A.Q. Alliance homeworld that will overlook The Romulans' past shenanigans. (*Ahem* Not likely.) Starfleet has appointed a new group of socially-challenged third-stringers (each of the Alliance members are eager to offload in the hopes they'll be found impaled on a Bat'Leth,) to the newest of the refurbished Museum/Frankenstein Fleet ships.

Its mission: (Among other vessels,) to scout prospects and make first contacts within the Briar Patch and beyond the Badlands toward the Galactic Barrier. To disturb long-sleeping ancient races or just make asses of themselves & The Federation. The U.S.S. Kenya, a small 86 year old explorer based on the Loknar & Miranda-Class starship lineage held together by prayers, bubblegum, spit and the best of intentions heads out from Waystation.

In the Captain's Chair - a highly attractive Female Klingon / Human "Augment" once employed as a bounty-hunter; a neurotic Medusan in an android encounter suit with gender identity issues at Tactical, a Cardassian foot soldier turned helmsperson; and, a formerly Trill Admiral demoted to Commander/Executive Officer that doubles as the Kenya's Chief Engineer. A Chief Medical Officer with impulse control issues, and whom insists on wearing inappropriate duty uniforms,....if she bothers to get dressed at-all.

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Re: "Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder" [Nem-Era Proposal]

Post by JHauck »

I'm hoping to include freighters/container ships in "The Continuing Blunder" concept. A small group of three or four ships assigned to moving Romulan/Cardassian/Human civilians as quickly as possible following the signing of the Treaty of Bajor to new digs, considering how vulnerable they are to external predators and opportunists from within. Or, if this synopsis/proposal isn't able to be included in their own series/spin-off, then I'm content to move these ideas into the "Alternate Traks" catagory.

TNG as well as TMP/Lost Years-era ships with crews-with-issues on "pennance" assignments.

U.S.S. Bonaduce (NX-Class, MK. 3)
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U.S.S. Syria (NX-Class, MK. 2)
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Exploration vessels with second and third-string officers that are 100% meant to be kept in the rear with the gear and be blown up first by de-cloaking aggressors, giving the rest of the Briar Patch & Galactic Barrier team-ships time to jump to warp.

Wanderer-Class Freighter (Max. Warp: Warp 7)
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Pandora-Class Freighter (Max. Warp: Warp 8.5)
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Java-Class Container Ship (Max. Warp: Warp 8.5)
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Re: "Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder" [Nem-Era Proposal]

Post by b-guy »

Sounds like you've got some neat ideas there. I'm curiou to see what you come up with in terms of the Medusan officer...we really haven't seen much of them, have we?

My first reactino was 'Destruction of Romulus? Huh? Oh, right. The movie.' Alan and Anthony haven't really meshed that into the Traks canon yet...we still have Romulus around in the 26th century with the 'Boldy Gone' series. Of course, you're planning on stand-alone stories, and so that doesn't have to be a problem.

With regards to the 86-year old ship, the Star Traks Silverado pilot introduced a project called 'Operation Salvage', in which old, 'gently used' ships are refurbished and pushed back into service...whether it's a good idea to do so or not. Silveardo herself is over 50 years old. You're more than welcome to reference that if you like.

Looking forward to reading what you come up with!
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Re: "Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder" [Nem-Era Proposal]

Post by cmdrajd »

Yeah, that Romulus thing is a problem, isn't it? You'd think that Boldly Gone might have to address that at some point. Hmmm..... :D

As for your ideas, JHauck, it's hard to say much until you get some stories written. See how it goes once you start turning your characters and concepts into fully-fleshed out tales.
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Re: "Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder" [Nem-Era Proposal]

Post by JHauck »

I just need starmaps of Waystation's position, black & white schematics or a "Master Situation Display" would be good, too. Waystation's stats (offensive/defensive capabilities, shuttles/fighters, measurements, etc.) in order to do a consistant and thorough story. I want to be able to write stories that make you feel like you're genuinely there. The mildew, the noises of feral animals trying to stay warm in the EPS access junctions, etc. The Romulus thing seems like a compelling reason for "Operation: Salvage", but I can reference "Nemesis" & Shinzon rather than the movie's mention of its destruction. What year was Waystation built in the Traks universe? 2360's? Before then? I'm thinking of referencing one of my ships, the Kenya or the quad-nacelled U.S.S. Bonaduce, being present at Waystation as a "bodyguard" ship deployed to protect the still-incomplete, covered-in-scaffolding outpost before the Kenya or Bonaduce were retired to the mothball fleet.

U.S.S. Bonaduce
http://api.ning.com/files/LPwzbQjo2FkkE ... efitII.png

Well, the Medusan thing is the one character that's been bothering me for a solution for some time. They've been seen getting shuttled around in small luggage for so long by a Betazoid or Vulcan as their 'envoy', and I just thought "Why haven't they been able to find a better way to get around on their own, without always needing a psionic officer's assistance to help them conduct Starfleet diplomatic business by the Titan / TNG Relaunch-era?" Then I saw this image and thought it was perfect for a Medusan to travel around in, conduct business, and generally interact with people, in its own private "encounter suit" especially in a Star Traks parody:

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Re: "Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder" [Nem-Era Proposal]

Post by b-guy »

Alan is of course the Waystation Master, I'll leave most of the questions to him...but I've re-read the early Waystation stories enough to say with confidence that it was only built a few 'years' ago. The original station was very small and was just towed into place and dropped off. The current version was constructed during the 'Renovations' story-arc. There is a Traks timeline on the Nexus, though it's a bit outdated...
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Re: "Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder" [Nem-Era Proposal]

Post by JHauck »

Prologue

http://www.clint.se/mattepainting/under ... nal-v2.jpg

Stardate:

56161.6818

Old Calendar Date:

1725 Hours

12 August 2379

Location:

Subaquatic City of Ch’thnik
(Whales’ Nest)

Planet: Tellar

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Randra Price grabbed some chinese food from a kiosk in the commercial district while making her way home, exausted from training and looking forward to a hot shower and some “me” time. Whales’ Nest wasn’t especially active this evening so she wasn’t surprised by the extremely short wait for an available turbolift to her floor. She plugged in her headset and quietly rocked out to the newest bands’ downloads from the ‘net to her media player. She was thinking about the fact she needed some extra credits to pay her condominium maintenance fees, leading her to realize how chintzy Starfleet had become lately about setting her up with assignments.

Spank was a fun club but tossing drunks was just a job. She missed the travel, unusual people and skin tight escapes of Starfleet Special Operations. She abhored the idea of living with anyone or having children. She’d been offered a regular job as a cop during the Dominion War, but she wasn’t the type of girl that enjoyed kissing ass, being leashed to either a schedule, inflexible procedures, or a uniform.

Whales’ Nest had been an out-of-the-way Xindi Aquatic refugee habitat in the 2260’s, then a subterrainean escape from The Romulan / Klingon-Federation Wars. A research station for George and Gracies’ descendants, and crowded cultural hub as more amphibious species heard about the Coalition. Masses made their way coreward to Tellar from the outer wings of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. Most likely driven from their homes by The Borg and other surface dwellers.

She keyed in the security code that analyzed the authenticity of the entry to her apartment by scanning her DNA with each keystroke, confirmed by voiceprint. The doors swished open and she set her media player down on the dining room table. Just as she was about to call for the lights, she noticed something was off. Randra’s heartbeats doubled , muscles tensed for confrontation, eyes narrowed, her pupils enlarged, and her nostrils flared.

A bright orange beam lanced out from the corner of her eye, making contact with her bicep in midswing. Her right fist made contact with a cloaked body that reeked of hamburger and onions and put its weight on its left side. The exchange dropped her to her left knee and made her grimace with extreme discomfort as her opponent’s feet made swift merciless connections with her abdomen and the side of her head. Randra saw stars and went down, trying to roll and recover without losing her dinner or her balance.

Her opponent was definitely male, approximately five foot eleven and a crap shot, considering he had to get that close to her. She felt the burn of another phaser contact at medium-high stun against her hip, causing her to throw-up in her mouth a little, grimace and drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes. The being pulled the hood of an ‘Anthropology & Archeology’-issue infiltration suit off, becoming fully visible at that point but only for a second before a hypospray with a vial of red liquid covered the space between them, rendering her too lethargic to even bother sputtering out her name and serial number.

Moments later, she found herself in a cabin on an obviously Starfleet ship. A man in his forties standing over her in civilian garb, all of it civilian except the commbadge. He slid the medical tricorder closed, nodded to the female human accomplice who got up and left. He continued watching her. His left eye was visibly swollen but the bruising was almost gone.

“Did I get you at a bad time? Hopefully not before anything important. Wouldn’t want to immortalize that shiner I gave you on someone’s holo-imager, right?”

“Droll. Get up. We’ve got business to discuss.” He tried to yank her up by her collar but Randra smashed him in the mouth with the back of her head.

“Fuck you. Who the hell are you assholes?”

He put a boot in her side. Randra realizing in the meantime that she was bound, hand and foot. He kicked her in the jaw and booted her in the stomach. As she bled and vomited on the deck, realized her head had been shaved as she caught just a glimpse of herself in a deactivated console and felt none of her long locks collapsing over her face during the struggle.

“Fine. Stay down. We’ll do it your way. You’ve got a job to do for us.”

“And if I don’t?”

The unidentified man moved to a carrying case, got out gloves and a set of pliers. He moved back to Randra and placed the tip of the pliers in her mouth, aiming for getting the pliers around one of her incisors, twisting slightly until it drove home the stranger’s point. Then, just to ensure compliance, he removed the pliers and then backhanded her as hard as he could.

“You can call me ‘Tyson’.”

It seemed like forever since she nodded that she’d do as she was told. The female accomplice cleaned her up, vaporized the vomit off the floor with her employer’s weapon, uncuffed her, and got her fresh clothes. She rolled back the window shades, revealing they were just a few fathoms off Whales’ Nest in some sort of amphibious runabout.

She activated the comm panel, began talking to a subordinate, before returning her attention to Randra.

“Transport subject back to site six. We’ll be in touch. Don’t leave town.”

She sagged to the floor as she felt the dissemination of her atoms in a containment beam being shot back to the apartment district. The beam-out reconstituted her form next to the roof arboretum’s decorative fountain, seventeen floors above her apartment. She’d likely be spotted by Good Samaritans and assisted to medical and security facilities. It would be another week and a half before the next meeting with Tyson and his feminine apprentice.

The morning after her return, twenty-seven year old Sanya Borleas, the owner of Spank Nightclub brought her breakfast at the hospital upon being notified of Randra’s mysterious reappearance by city security forces. She’d been gone three weeks and couldn’t remember any of it. There was no visual or financial record of anything she’d done immediately before her abduction, especially picking-up dinner at Henafuta’s on the community greenway, nor any detectable use of airlocks, escape pods or continental transporters out of town.
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Re: "Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder" [Nem-Era Proposal]

Post by cmdrajd »

Waystation was towed into position around Stardate 50240, which is in 2373 according to the handy-dandy stardate converter I found online. I've never been all that specific about the station's dimensions. It is located in the Beta quadrant (or at the edge of, depending on how you want to look at it). I'll be honest that I'm more of a character and story guy, and I mostly BS my way through the technical side of things. I can tell you that Waystation is not home to any bizarre super-weapons, but the station's phasers do pack quite a punch. Otherwise, it's well stocked with photon and quantum torpedoes.

Here's the wiki link, which may be helpful to you.

http://www.star-traks.com/wiki/index.php/Waystation
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Re: "Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder" [Nem-Era Proposal]

Post by borgcrazy »

That's a good, solid start to what could be a strong story. Great writing, interesting characters, an engaging mystery and an enigmatic villain; you've got my interest piqued.
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Re: "Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder" [Nem-Era Proposal]

Post by JHauck »

cmdrajd: I was thinking of doing up a website at Tripod as an expansion to "New Worlds" in a future era (between "Star Trek: Nemesis" & "Star Trek: Online") where Waystation is swarmed, but, the whole point is to distract the home guard / marines long enough to disable its anchoring systems and shove the station into a nearby star. There's a traitor aboard, attempting to assist "forces unknown" to get even for the fact Waystation's asserted itself into the Multek-Romulan destiny. Everyone gets off in-time, however...there are significant deaths however as escape pods, shuttles, fighters, and freighters pull away from their berths, trying to tractor each other to safety as Waystation's self-destruct ignites in a huge ball of plasma/anti-matter. Several ships are crippled beyond repair and others caught in the flash-point as the station is mashed to paste by the star's gravity well, bathed in fatal solar radiation, or incinerated by the self-destruct. Others are thrown clear by the blasts, knocked around by the debris of the station and fallen ships like a billiard ball by a cue stick, effectively catapulted ass-over-teakettle into neighboring systems out of control and pursued by their attackers. This is where my series "Star Traks: The Continuing Blunder" picks up.

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Waystation is re-born as either a planet-side ground site in Multek territory, the (Copernicus) starbase from "Star Trek: 4D" or a "Jupiter Station" type outpost , but no-one's left the same. They're left to take the lion's-share of blame / political fall-out for the failure of certain operatives in Starfleet Intelligence who (more or less) knew things were in motion but intentionally kept the Waystation crew blind/deaf/dumb about the murmurs, in the hopes Waystation would finally stop being a convenient dump for the "McHale's Navy" retarded of Starfleet, a sufficient warning flare to the bureaucrats of Starfleet Command, and in the hopes the enemy would be properly vented by its loss. While the rest of Starfleet continues to smell like a rose, swooping in heroically, scooping up casualties and assuring the survivors that justice will be done, while accepting no responsibility whatsoever for sitting on their hands in the meantime.

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