Alexander Annuals

[[This is a thread dedicated to the collection of several short-stories and character development arcs for the Crew of the USS Alexander!]]

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Brotherly Love

Zach sat with his feet up on the couch as the Vulcan entered the foyer. Adorned in a skin-tight bikini that matched her own skin tone, the Andorian was more than intrigued, his antennae perking up at the sight “Heloooo, Nurse!” He cooed with a grin.

Slight NSFW Screenshot

The woman shifted her weight on her hip for a moment, allowing the male to fully observe her. “I take by your physical reaction, this would be ‘pleasing’ to a prospected mate?” she inquired, her tone as cold as ever. “That’s an understatement.” Zach confirmed, reaching behind the couch and retrieving a bottle of Andorian Ale. He poured two glasses, taking a sip from his own before offering it to his guest.

The Vulcan perked her brow, but Zach assured her, “Its Synth-ale, On-call pilot can’t risk getting intoxicated.”. Accepting his word, she took the glass, and sat next to him, her legs curled up next to her on the sofa. “Well, after extensive examination, I would concur that you would be a suitable match should the need for your services arise. Your attention to minute detail and quick reaction time transfers well from the pilot seat to the bedroom.” She declared.

Zach continued to grin, wearing her assessment like a badge of honor, “It is only logical to ‘test drive’ a prospective mate before your forced to choose.” He retorted. The Vulcan took a sip of her drink before responding, “Would you be able to maintain such a cavalier attitude should I decide to ‘test’ other prospective males?” Zach almost laughed, setting his drink down so he didn’t spill it. “On the contrary, I encourage it! I’m both a Lover and a Fighter my dear. The more practice you can get in, with more opponents, the better skilled you become.”

The Blond-haired Vulcan nods at his words, taking another sip, “So you view intercourse as a competition? That would make sense given your determination to make me clima–”

Her words were cut off however by the sudden opening of the apartment door.

Lt. Commander Southerland, in almost a zombified state entered the room. His eyes were closed as he moved, almost like he was on auto-pilot, stretching and patting off his uniform that bore the debris and grime of an extended engineering shift. “Imgonacrsheretnite…” he mumbled incoherently, not even bothering to open his eyes as he moved from the entrance to the bedroom. The two could hear a distinct ‘thud’ sound as the Bolian collapsed onto Zach’s mattress.

Zach’s Lady-friend did not move at any of this, but did glance over at Zach for clarification. Zach however seemed unphased by Kiff’s appearance, and catching his attendee’s eye, he nodded to her. “Was that Chief Engineer Southerland?” She asked. “Uhm, yea, sorry about that. When he has a long shift he tends to crash at my place, since my room is closer to the turbolift than his.”

“You two…share quarters?” She again inquired; a bit puzzled. It was well known among the crew that the Two Lt. Commanders were close friends, but she was unaware the extent of the relationship. “We did for a while, I mean, we are brothers after all, so its all fair.” Setting her cup down, she turned to the Andorian. “I apologize, when I heard you refer to him as ‘your brother from a Bolian mother’ I assumed that was a euphemism. You two are biologically linked?”

“Oh no. I mean, yes he is my brother, but adoptive.” He began, seeing the still inquisitive
look on the Vulcan’s face he smiled and also set his drink down. “Well, you indulged my questions of your pon-farr, so its only logical I abide your own curiosity here.” He began.

“I was a Starfleet brat, my three parents were all officers, and maintained their postings together. When I was 7, I was abord the USS Stan Lee, Excelsior Class. The ship was responding to a distress call from a Bolian Freighter that was being harassed by Gorn Mercenaries. The ship took some hits, but were able to save the cargo-ship, unfortunately, all of my parents were killed in that attack. Hull breach here, radiation leak there, conduit overload…I mean, universe really had it out for my bloodline that day.” He finished with a chuckle.

“That must have been tragic for you.” She quickly followed up, yet her facial expression did not relay the remorse. “Is that why you don’t have a typical Andorian Name?” Zach nodded to her assessment, “I was originally named Zachariah Th’zaathk, but I had no extended family, Parents were all single children and grandparents were dead. So when I was adopted, I dropped the Andorian name for my new family.” He took up his glass, toasting towards the bedroom where Kiff was sound asleep and took a drink.

“But your Surname is Brannigan, not Southerland?”

“Correct. See, it was Kiff’s family on that transport we saved. When his mother found out I was orphaned saving them she was distraught, and vowed to make it right, offered to take me in. Kiff is the 7th of twelve siblings, so they had enough Sotherlands to go around, so I took his mothers Maiden name instead. And since me and Kiff were the same age, we bonded the closest. Shared everything growing up, even bunked together at the academy.”

“I see. Well, it appears we will not get a chance to continue our ‘practice’ since the Chief Engineer has commandeered the bed, so I will bid you a good night Lieutenant Commander.” She stated, getting up and grabbing a silk robe that was on the adjacent chair. “Oh, you don’t -have- to go, we can practice here on the couch.” Zach meekly protested. The look she shot him at his remark was more than response enough, and he only chuckled, “Fair enough.” He stated, rising to his own feet to see her out. “If you do get the urge to go for round two, I’m only a comm badge call away.”

“I believe by our track record, we have well passed round two.” She proclaimed. “Oh, ok. Round 18…who’s really counting though?” he smiled as they approached the door. “You apparently.” she replied. As the main door opened, the Vulcan gave the Andorian Pilot a brief kiss on the cheek. Zach stood in the doorway, watching the lower half of the Medical Lt. Commander swish back and forth further down the hall until she was out of view, and slinked back into his quarters.

Zach collected the glasses, pouring the remainder of the Andorian Ale into one glass, and walked over to his room. Looking in he could see Kiff had passed out still dressed in his uniform, and the Andorian just shook his head. Kiff had come a long way from the super anti-social recluse he grew up with, and he was extremely proud of what all he had accomplished, he was sure their parents would be proud too. Taking a drink from the glass, Zach retrieved a pillow and blanket from one of his dressers, and headed back out to the couch.



It felt like it had been a hell of a year, but in reality, it had only been 2 or 3 months. Maikull looked out of the window of his ready room to the spatial hues of the nebula they were surveying. Yet where he would normally take in the beauty of space, he could only see his reflection today. A taller, bearded man with the starting of a gut, hair slowly fading to pepper of a man stared back at him. Heh, the defining mark of a true Starfleet captain, graying hair…he really felt like one of them now.

Hard to imagine that 20 years ago he had enrolled in Starfleet Academy. What a wild ride it had been since then. How different his life could have been had he not ran away from the conclave back home? He pondered for a moment on this, but shook his head. No…he was never going to stay at that place, running away was always an assurance. The real pivotal moment for him was just before he graduated…

Starfleet Academy; Circa 2405 – Pre-Academy Graduation

*Barron nervously stood before the Academy Commandant’s desk, being summoned before the headmaster was almost never a good thing, especially a week away from graduation. He was sure he didn’t do anything wrong, but still his mind raced through worse case scenarios. *

Cadet Barron: “You wished to see me sir?”

Commandant: “Ahh yes, Cadet. Come in, take a seat.” He greeted warmly, yet not looking up from a padd in his hand.

Maikull obliged cautiously, settling himself down yet somehow managing to maintain attention in a seated position.

Commandant: putting his padd down and seeing the fear-stricken cadet before him he gave a hearty chuckle. “Relax, you’re not in trouble. We always try to sit down with cadets just before they graduate, make sure their on track for the right career.” The elder officer explained.

Cadet Barron: Relaxing his shoulders just a bit, Maikull hesitantly replied, “Sorry sir, its just…I thought Captain Taggart did that?”

Commandant: The headmaster smiles at Maikull’s remark, looking off to his aid and giving a nod, “That he does…” he picks up the padd once more and flips through it, “Tell me, are you related to Doctor Craig Barron by chance?”

Cadet Barron: Maikull nods at the question, “Yes sir, he was my great uncle. He passed after my first year here.”

Commandant: “Ahh, I am sorry for your loss. He was the one who sponsored you into the Academy correct?” he asked setting the padd down again

Cadet Barron: “Yes sir…is, there a problem?”

Commandant: “Oh no no. I had a few run in’s with Craig in my day, just reminiscing about the past. It says here that before he took you in, you lived in an ‘Amish communal’ down in Texas? That had to be a culture shock for you. No technology and all.”

Cadet Barron: Something didn’t feel right about this. It felt more like a passive interrogation than anything else. “Yes sir…My great uncle helped me adapt in the short span I lived with him.” He shifted in his seat uncomfortably before continuing, “Sorry for the bluntness sir, but what does that have to do with my career choice?”

Commandant: The commandant gave a cold smile to the cadet’s question. “Absolutely nothing.” Once again he turned and nodded to his aid, “Told you this one was sharp.” He picked up the Padd and skimmed it again before turning his attention back to the cadet. “Lets talk about your training cruise shall we? Captain Taggart reported that you appeared to be…abnormally perceptive to the situation at hand, almost as if you knew what was going to happen. Ship logs indicated you even preemptively set functions for commands not yet given to you by your superior officer. Care to explain?”

Cadet Barron: Here it was…the real reason he was here. Taking a breath of relief that he was now addressing the root of his summons, Maikull settled into a more relaxed seating position. “Because the scenario was staged sir.”

Commandant: “And how would you know that?”

Cadet Barron: “Four months ago, I opened a Public Information Request in regards to Academy Training Courses dating back the last 10 years, this was to include records on Training Cruises from Senior Cadets. Not wanting to raise suspicion, I filed the request under the estate of my late Grandfather, which was inherited to me upon his passing. I used that information to determine there are 23 specific destinations pre-selected and utilized for a final senior training cruise. Of these 23, there are at least 3-4 unique scenarios that are pre-scripted in order to ensure Cadets receive ‘real world experience’ before departing the academy, a final test of their resolve and spirit in the light of adversity.”

Commandant: The commandant just continued to grin through Barron’s exposition, almost as if he were impressed with the Cadet. “You know…some would construe your actions as Cheating, which is a very grievous academic offence.”

Cadet Barron: “Id argue that sir. When we start our coursework, we are presented with all the information needed to us on Data Padds. Our ‘tests’ are just a means to grasp our understanding and retention of that information without the resources available to us. I accessed public information to make an educated assessment of what to expect, spent months memorizing and retaining that statistical data so that when we began our cruise, I was able to extrapolate what struggles we would potentially face based off our heading, and best prepare myself and the crew for those challenges.”

???: “What Field was he going into?” a voice spoke out from behind them.

Commandant: “Operations.” The commandant responded to the out-of-view voice.

*Barron felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, he did not notice another person in the room when he entered, nor did he hear the doors open since. It did not take long for the voice to come strolling over, taking a seat next to him with a similarly warm smile on his face. *

Commandant: “Cadet, this is Commander Frazier. I hardly think I need to say who he works for?”

Maikull quickly too notice of the Commander , the all black strip across the officers shoulders was more than enough to identify his affiliation. He shook his head slowly, his mind ablaze as to why this Commander was here with them.

Commander Frazier: “I’m impressed, really. Though sorry to bust your bubble, but your not the first cadet to pull stat analysis like that. Effective, especially the bit where you covered your tracks. Not breaking the rules, because its public knowledge, and nothing is stopping us from changing the tests year from year. So tell me Cadet, why Ops?”

Cadet Barron: A little taken aback by the Commanders assessment then sudden track switch, he answered, once again hesitantly, waiting for the proverbial shoe to finally drop. “Operations have their hands in a bit of everything. They help keep the day-to-day running so everyone else can properly perform their duties and functions.”

Commander Frazier: “What if I were to tell you there was another division that did the same thing, albeit in a different manner? One that someone of your mindset could prove very valuable, if given the proper guidance.”

Maikulls eyes widened, as it finally clicked as to why he was called in, why this commander was here. It wasn’t an interrogation…it was an initiation!

Maikull chuckled to himself at the memory as he moved from the window to his replicator. A cup of warm apple cider beamed in before him, as he took his drink back to his desk. He was sure he was going to be expelled that day at the academy, but it turned out to be the start of a long and prosperous career in Intelligence. His first year as an Ensign was more akin to an extra term at the Academy than anything else, Vocational Crash Courses on various Languages both written and spoken, Data Encryption Training, Statistical Logistics. Though with the start of the forth Federation-Klingon war kicking off in the same year, his training became more… campaign specific.

Three years as a Data Analyst were some of the most informative, yet infuriating years of his career, as he poured over data that would come in for review and recommendation, yet oddly he always struggled to find the resolution to the problems that he was tasked to solve, some new crisis or intel would take priority and once again he would be jerked into a new scenario to pour over charts and tables with. He was young, and his training made him ambitious. Ultimately he got what he asked for, promoting to Lieutenant in 2408, and becoming a field operative.

Boots on the ground of the frontlines was more his speed, becoming increasingly involved in the Conflict of Ajilon Prime. He would find himself attending ballroom galas on Romulan Empire Worlds, chasing/running from Tal Shiar agents and creating a network of informants; to posing as ship crew to investigate Federation Officers involved in unceremonious activities unbecoming of their rank and file. It was everything that one would expect of a action/adventure spy drama; he even met his femme fatale wife-to-be during his clandestine escapade through the stars.

The Commanding Officer looked at his terminal, its sleep-mode screen showing him and his wife on their recent trip to Risa together, and smiled. Because for all the good times came plenty of bad memories, in droves. Constant War meant constant pressure on Intelligence; Deadlines, Quotas, High Priorities that changed hourly. Everything happened fast pace, and everything bore the weight of the galaxy at stake. Six Years, running on high-octane adrenaline had put years’ worth of miles on his soul.

And he remembered the moment he had reached his breaking point…

Starbase 234; Circa April 2413

Shortly in the Aftermath of Surface Tension

A Younger Barron sat on the observation deck alone. The drink he was served sat abandoned as he gazed lifelessly at the chess board before him. It wasn’t even set properly, yet still in his mind he was calculating what moves he could/should make next to quickly check the invisible enemy king. Anything was better than focusing on the mission.

The doors to the observation lounge swung open, a Female Captain with the same black uniform as he stepped in. Maikull knew she was coming. Coming to congratulate him on a successful mission, Praise him for ‘saving the alpha quadrant’ once again, Offer condolences to the loss of his teammates; then tell him some new looming threat greater than the last is ready to boil over. The Klingons, The Tal’Shiar, The Borg, The Undine; It never ended no matter how hard he pushed himself.

Capt. Budnik: “Mind If I take a seat?” The Captain asked, her dark hair wrapped up in a ponytail and uniform more crisp than usual, clearly coming from some command staff meeting.

He shrugged in agreement, not directly looking her in the eye. He readied himself for another song and dance around whatever real topic she wanted to discuss. The game board, sensing two players now, lit up with holographic pieces to fill the void, sure enough he had anticipated most of the placements already.

Capt. Budnik: Seeing his non-responsive response, she quickly plopped down, and plucked her comm-badge off of her chest, tossing it onto the table, a common signal that their talk held no record or rank. “Look, I know something’s wrong. You can talk to me about if you need too.”

Lt. Barron: Slowly he too slid his comm-badge off, yet he couldn’t help himself but to start to laugh. It wasn’t a ‘funny -haha’ kind of laugh either; more of a broken, ‘nothing left to do but laugh’ bellow as he hid his face in his hand for a minute, less his facial expressions betray him momentarily. He knew she meant well, but he also knew she was just as overworked as the rest of them. “You have 13 minutes till your next meeting with Alliance Section Chiefs. We don’t have time for me to sit down and talk it out. And its not like I can go to some shrink…because at this point my damn near entire existence is classified.”

Capt. Budnik: “Mike…you’ve been in the game for 9 years now, and they haven’t been good years. The last four especially. Maybe its time yo—” she began to say

Lt. Barron: “Do what? Take a break?” he cut her off boorishly. “The Undine LITERALLY ambushed Earth!” he proclaimed, with dramatic pause, “Almost killed us all. We have lost Tens of THOUSANDS of officers! Hell we were so short staffed BEFORE that, F##KING Lieutenants like ME were commanding frontline ships in combat!” He had shoved away from the table in frustration and was not on his feet, pacing back and forth. “And I’m supposed to just take it easy? Go to Risa and have a couple of Sunrise’s on the rocks?! Throw some latinum at the Dabo table, and forget about the fact you walked in here ready to tell me were about to get into a new Pissing Match with the Klingons and Romulans over this new F**king Delta Quadrant Sphere thing?! ”

Capt. Budnik: She sat there and listened to the poor boy vent, prophets know’s he probably needed it. Thankfully she had anticipated he was on a short fuse after the attack on Sector 001, like many others, and had cleared the area beforehand.

Lt. Barron: “Let me guess? You came here from command with a nice little accommodation for my bravery and valor huh? ‘Thanks for keeping the shield grid of Orbital Arc 30 online, sorry all of your friends died!’”

Capt. Budnik: The captain withdrew a small velvet box from her pocket and set it on the table, “Something like that, yea…” She saw Maikull look at the box, she could see how hard it was for him to hold back his emotions already as he shook his head.

Lt. Barron: “Burn it…I don’t deserve it.” He stated flatly, looking away once more.

Capt. Budnik: “Mike, I know its hard—” she once again started before the junior officer cut her off again.

Lt. Barron: “I killed Hobbs.”

Capt. Budnik: She pursed her lips at his comment. It wasn’t uncommon for officers to blame themselves for the loss of comrades. “Your not responsible for –”

Lt. Barron: Once again he talked over her, “I did the safety override to the power generators, I was looking at the energy distribution network. I knew that if anyone touched that other terminal to re-ignite the Arc’s shields, it was going to go off like a bomb in their face. I knew it, Sean Knew it, and Hobbs knew it.” The muscles of his face were fighting a losing battle holding back tears as his voice began to crack. “He asked me if it was clear, and I looked him in the face, and told him it was going to be fine, I ordered him to turn the shields on….” The sorrow was pouring from him, in each of his words he tried to turn it into hate, rage and anger, but the grief was too much to be quenched out of him. “I did what I was taught to do. I prioritized the mission… over the life of a good man… -I- killed him!”

Capt. Budnik: “And had you not, Thousands more would have died, and we could have truly lost ESD…Hobbs knew the risk–”

Lt. Barron: “HOW DOES THAT MAKE IT OK TIFFANY!? HOW MANY MORE BODIES DO I HAVE TO STACK FOR THE GOOD OF THE FEDERATION BEFORE F##KING SECTION 31 COMES KNOCKING AT MY DOOR WITH A SHINEY NEW BLACK BADGE” He roared, taking the comm badge that was in his hand and hurling it at the adjacent wall, shattering it to pieces.

Captain Budnik had the patience of a saint. Dropping rank probably wasn’t the -best- move here, and trying to roll back on that decision would have only made things worse. She slowly rose to her feet, as the emotional lieutenant leaned against the table, his head slumped down, tears falling to the floor in silence. Walking around, she embraced him in a hug, placing his head into her shoulder to cry on. After a few moments, she finally broke the silence.

Capt. Budnik: “I’m going to say something. I don’t say this as your captain, I say this as your mentor, and friend. And I swear to the gods if you interrupt me one more time, I will b*tch slap you up and down this room, ok?” Maikull nodded meekly, and took his seat again as she continued. “I personally feel your too young for this, but we play the cards we are delt. Your damn good at what you do, and a damn good operative, but you’ve been in play for far too long. Its not your fault because we have been in one crisis after another, and we are critically low on personnel. Typically Operatives don’t stay in play for more than a year at a time, unless they’re on specific sanctioned long-term detail. It’s to help prevent this kind of burn out…its to help prevent people becoming so desensitized they start thinking Sec31.”

Capt. Budnik: “You didn’t kill Hobbs, he knew what he was doing, and sacrificed himself to save ESD, because he knew if he didn’t push that button you would have. Your not Sec 31 material, because your tore up over that decision, as where them heartless bastards couldn’t care less. You lost everyone you could reach out to for support in that battle, I know the relationship you have with your family, and I know you feel more alone now than you did before you joined Starfleet. And as your captain, pissing match with the Klingons and Romulans aside, I cannot in good conscious put you back into the field in that condition.”

Capt. Budnik: Returning to her seat, she placed her hand over the felt box “Im not like most captains. I don’t gage myself off successful missions, or years of service. I judge myself by those who serve under me. A captain can take a good officer and burn them at both ends until there is nothing left. Another captain can see the greatness of their subordinates, and bury them in mediocrity to keep from outshining them. I on the other hand, prefer my officers to surpass me, to do better, to be better, so I can look back on my career and say ‘I made all those fine captains and admirals’ and can rest well knowing the galaxy is in safe hands.”

Capt. Budnik: Opening the box, she slides it over to the Lieutenant who looks at it in disbelief. At the same time, she picks up her own comm badge and places it back on her uniform, denoting that NOW things were official between them once again. “They didn’t offer you an accommodation, they gave you a promotion. Lieutenant Commander Maikull Barron. You are asked to report for permanent duty aboard the USS Okita, as their on-board Intelligence Officer. The Captain aboard is a good friend of mine, and will be putting you through The Command Officer Program, helping you transition from Intelligence. On behalf of Starfleet Command Admiralty, we thank you for your invaluable years of service, and hope you will accept this new commission.”

He could still hear Captain Budnik’s words of wisdom in his mind. “You need to make roots for yourself, else you will endlessly float through the void of space, alone and uncontrollable until your heart freezes solid.” And she wasn’t wrong. He found his family aboard a starship. Some lost, some dysfunctional, some needing guidance and a helping hand. He had taken her words to heart, and once he had completed the Command Program and starting taking charge, he too felt that these officers who served under him were his own legacy, only time would tell if his leadership would truly be enough to raise them to greatness. Because being a captain isn’t about yourself, its about everyone else who holds you up to that regard.


Imzadi Inamorato

One thing a lot of people didn’t understand about telepaths, is that its ALWAYS on. It takes years for children to master the art of ‘shutting it all out’ so they can manage to walk through a busy street and not collapse from mental overload. Going from a ship of 350 to 750 crewmen was a slight adjustment, but Jessica was well trained on how to use and control her powers. The one person she could not shut out however, was her Imzadi; Captain of the USS Alexander, Maikull Barron.

Though separated by several decks, she could feel his emotions from their quarters. He was deep in contemplation, reminiscing on the good and bad and the old times. There was a wave of euphoria that swept over her, as she could feel his thoughts focus on her, on them for a moment before once again trailing off. She could reach out further to find out exactly what he was thinking about, but then he would know she was there. He always knew when she was in his mind, something that she cherished. Even from the very first time they met he was a safe haven for her, both physically, and mentally.

She could never forget the first time she met Maikull, and the imprint they shared…

Azure Sector, Carraya System; Circa September 2410

The state of the Galaxy was in a mess. One the one hand the war against the Klingons finally looked like it was settling down, with major victories in the Imaga and Laurentian Systems. On the other hand, the situation with the Romulans were starting to boil over. The Romulan Star Empire had formally reached out to the Federation in regards to reconcile, despite their tentative alliance with the newly formed Romulan Republic. Word had it that Empress Sela herself was hosting Federation Diplomats somewhere on the edge of the Neutral Zone.

Not to be one-upped, several Romulan Imperial Figureheads were following their Empress’ lead, and inviting any of the Crème de la crème from the Federation they could get their hands on. Agents from all over were being recalled to cover all of these Soiree’s, which ended in a logistical nightmare of multiple agents at the same place. It wasn’t even the Federation that was interested, Klingon, Cardassian, Ferengi; Major and Minor powers alike were looking to take advantage of the power struggle going on in the Romulan Sector, hell Jessie figured half if not more of the guests at the party were agents of some sorts there to do the same thing she was.

But that’s where she came in. Jessie was one of Starfleet Intelligence’s advanced telepaths, with her abilities she would be able to sweep into the ballroom floor and mingle amongst the guests, gracefully scanning their minds to identify friend or foe with no one being the wiser. And if the drinks weren’t too watered down, she might even be able to probe further to find out what it was they were after! The events cropped up last minute, so their intel on the who and why were scarce. If this was nothing but an oligarch showboating, then at least she would have a nice evening out of the whole mess.

Speaking of, she spotted the host in question, Vekulo Jutas. One of many Rich, Powerful, and Influential ‘warlords’ the Romulan Star Empire had to offer. Yet standing next to him was an unassuming Human in a dapper attire. Approaching both, Vekulo smiled brightly and offered her a hand, He was more flamboyant than most Romulans, probably an act he picked up dealing with Ferengi. Taking a glass off one of the roaming drink trays, she took a quick swig and approached with the best fake smile she could muster.

Vekulo Jutas “Ahh, if it isn’t the lovely reporter from the Federation News Network! What was your name again darling?”

Jessie Stern “Lana Kane, an exquisite party your throwing! So glad to be here, rather than that drab Senator Boreetha is throwing!”

Vekulo Jutas “Bah! That fossil wouldn’t know how to entertain a flock of Pakleds with a multi-colored ball pit! Come Dear! Meet my new friend, he’s the Great Grandson of the famous Jonathan Archer!”

Jessie turned to the man and examined him, He was of average height, relatively fit with that sexy/scruffy hair, all tucked away in a formal three piece suit, his eyes were hidden behind dark spectacles (an oddity for indoors). She knew from the get go he was not who he was claiming, as Jonathan Archer didn’t have children, but for some reason as she reached out for a quick ‘check’ of his thoughts, they were blank, another checkbox for an agent of some sort; only question was; was he one of theirs? She reached her hand out, which he took delicately, and gently kissed the top of her hand, looking up through his glasses their eyes locked for a moment.

Maikull Barron “A pleasure to meet you Miss Kane, I’m Archer, Sterling Archer. Great Grandfathers best kept secret, I hope the tabloids wont chase me down after this?”

Jessie Stern “Maybe we could set up a meeting…Off the Record?” She flirted

Vekulo Jutas “Oh don’t you two look adorable. Well I must go, many more guests to attend. You two have fun now!”

As their Romulan Host sauntered off, The two stood there for a moment. Try as she might for some reason she was just not able to get a read on this guy.

Jessie Stern “Archer huh?” She mumbled under her breath, just loud enough he could hear, but that lip-readers would not be able to pick up, before raising her glass for another sip.

Maikull Barron “What can I say? Wasn’t given much time for a good cover-story.” He admitted with a smirk as he looked over. Seeing her taking a drink his eyes widened for a moment but he controlled himself, and looked off towards the other guests. “How much have you had to drink?” he asked, in a hushed voice.

Jessie Stern She looked down at her glass, she had already tested it for toxins, so she wasn’t sure why he was asking. “On my second, why?”

‘Archer’ moved smoothly, placing himself face to face with her, one hand took her by her glass holding hand, and slipped under her fingers, taking the glass out of her hand and extending her arm outward, with his other found its way under her chin and raised her face up to meet him as he drew intimately close.

Maikull Barron “First off, your left contact is unaligned…” he whispered, their faces so close they could kiss.

A roving butler took the que and had approached, taking the glass from ‘Archer’, allowing his free hand to slid down the small of her back, almost as if the two were about to dance.

Maikull Barron “…and second, the drinks are spiked with a psionic suppressant drug meant to target telepaths specifically.”

That explained why she was having such a hard time reading his thoughts. But If that was the case, there was a good chance her cover might have already been blown. Trying not to outwardly show her duress, she fell into the brief Tango with the man, using him as a means to discreetly adjust her contacts to hide her pure black Betazed iris, she would just have to trust for now that they were on the same side.

Forethought being what it was now, Maikull was in fact on her side, albeit he was a fresh out of training Operative on his very first field assignment. Like her, he was thrown to the wind in hopes to catch something. SFI was not the most organized with this op, and it showed. As unprofessional (and as much teasing as she gave him over the fact) his genuine care/concern for her even without knowing who she truly was, was a touch of relief, plus the fact she had to get to know him without using her powers helped too, as he had later admitted he (like many others she had seen in the past) had several, ‘savory’ mental images about her upon first glance.

But as cute and kind as first impressions were, it was the deeper connection they bore later that night that really cemented the loveable Texan in her head, and heart. They hadn’t learned yet of the Romulan plot to invade Vulcan yet, but they did work together to ‘discover’ that their host had intended to use a thalaron weapon on the party guests, hoping to snuff out key influential people to the Federation to weaken them for a possible future conflict.

Azure Sector, Carraya System; 4 Hours Later (Underground Complex)

Both Maikull and Jessie had left the party behind and were deep below the compound of their host. Long departed were their ballroom attire, for the more technologically adapted suits of Intel Operatives. Jessie still did not have full use of her mental powers back yet from the drinks she had ingested prior to their meeting, but that didn’t stop her from doing her job as she covered Maikull as he hacked a Romulan Terminal. Their initial investigation found all the necessary materials, and scans indicated trace amounts of thalaron radiation in the compound, but they had not discovered the delivery system just yet.

Maikull Barron “Got past their firewalls, should know where their delivery method is in a minute or two…” he stated, focusing on his tricorder.

Romulan Guard “That wont be necessary, Agent Stern.” Came a voice behind them. “There was never a Talaron weapon here. It was a ruse to lure Starfleet Intelligence in like set’leth cub in a cage.

Jessie tried to spin around and train her own firearm at the voices, but several more Tal’Shiar agents beamed in, weapons hot aimed at the two. She could feel the fog around her mind begin to lift, but too little too late as they were already surrounded. Both she and Maikull dropped their equipment as the Romulan Guards closed in to secure them in restraints.

Romulan Guard 1 “I must say, we have been watching you for some time Agent Stern-ling. Your mental powers have been a thorn in our side for quite some time.” The agent stated, as he approached Maikull and backhanded him, hard enough that had the other guard not been holding him, it would have knocked him to the ground. “Take them to the Brig, Ready me a Neural Suppressor for Interrogation.” The first guard ordered.

Romulan Guard 2 “What about his accomplice?” he stated, tugging at Jessies arms.

Romulan Guard 1 “She is but the distraction, let them say their goodbyes while we ready ourselves for the main course, we might be able to make some use of her later.” He disregarded.

Before the two of them could even argue, gas masks were placed over their mouths, filling their lungs with a sleeping agent causing the room to go black.

She didn’t know how long they had been out for, but as she awoke she could hear a sweet melody in her mind.
Unknown “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take, my sun shine away.”

She looked around the room, but she was alone in the small metallic shell of a holding cell. The Voice she heard however was as if it were right next to her, coming from within, mentally. With her powers back she reached out, feeling the presence of another mind very close to her.

Jessie Stern “Hello?”

Maikull Barron “Oh, awake are we? Welcome back.”

Jessie Stern “Maikull? How long have I been out? What is the situation?”

Maikull Barron “I just woke up about 5 minutes ago, but from what I can gather: I think, they think, I’m you.

Jessie Stern “That’s not good…”

Maikull Barron “Tell me about it. They were using fancy words like ‘Neural Suppressor’, ‘Cortical Implant’ and ‘Mind Probe’ and a lot of other things I probably would have understood if I paid better attention in Interrogation Class. Mind telling me what you did to piss them off?” Though he was using humor, she could sense the underlying anxiety.

Jessie Stern “I’m a Federation Mind Crack. They call me in when they catch people with stronger than normal telepathic resistance, or they cant wait to get an answer out of someone. Good chance whoever is running this op is someone I’ve cracked before out for revenge. No other way they could have I.D. me.” There was a pause for a moment. “Was that you singing?”

Maikull Barron “Not out loud. But yea.”

Jessie Stern “It was beautiful. What was it?”

Maikull Barron “You are my sunshine. My Mema use to sing it to me and my siblings when we were really young, especially when it was looking bad out.”

Jessie Stern “Look, you don’t have to do this. I can tell them its me, I can give you a chance to—” she began.

Maikull Barron “No you wont.” he cut her off bluntly. “We have an hour left before check in, then recall protocols get engaged. And we have them on the wrong foot thinking they got their target. The best play is to let me take the fall and have them waste time while YOU figure out a way to get us out of here.” As worried as he was for what was to come, his words were bolstered by assurance.

Jessie Stern She wished she could be as confident as he was about this. “Their going to torture you…”

Maikull Barron “I know.”

Jessie Stern “You don’t have to…”

Maikull Barron “I know.”

And they did. He endured an hour and 37 minutes of intense tournament in that cell. Later he told her that her being in his mind for the entire process is what gave him the strength to soldier on. But she knew that despite the pain and agony he went through, part of him was fighting to push her out, because she shared part of his pain through that connection and he wanted to spare her that pain. His first ever field mission, for someone he didn’t even know, and he was ready to lay his life down for her. In that moment she knew that he was the kind of man she wanted in her life, too bad it took another 7 years for her to realize that.

They met again several times for various other intelligence operations, and maintained correspondence with one another, helping each other through some of the more difficult times in the field. She had relationships before, and even after that mission, But no one could touch her mind the way he could, no one could instantly connect or understand her like him.

Her one and only…Imzadi.



With a new ship comes new amenities, and The Presidio-Class Alexander had these in spades. 3 times as large as their former ship, it housed several of these that the crew was still getting use too. One example was “Mainbrace” the Officers only lounge located at the aft of Deck 3. Not that the Senior Staff wanted to dine separately from the rest of the crew, but it was a nice place to sit back and unwind after a long shift, or even hold informal meetings among one another. Tonight was one such occasion as most of the senior staff decided to have dinner together after shift.

Zach Brannigan: “So I had to explain to him the tactical disadvantage of color-coding ALL of our fighters based on their assigned squad units. I get MINE has decal’s; but mine is also the wing-leader, it’s supposed to stand out from the rest. He was being a real pain in the ass about it.”

Kiff Southerland: “He’s just jealous he doesn’t get the super flashy ride. Is he one of ours, or one of the ‘Alexandrians’?”

3 of 14 (Pi) : “You know, I’ve noticed that distinction going around. We really need to do more to address the departure between Sun-Tzu Surviving officers, and new Crew assigned to the Alexander. That divide could cause a lot of problems down the road. I know Jessie scenes it, but id rather we take care of it before it gets to Captain’s level.”

Roptojmey: “Aye, worse thing a crew can suffer is lack of cohesion. Doesn’t help when Zachary is helping himself to my new Nursing Staff.” The Klingon grumbled, looking down the table

Zach Brannigan: choaks on his drink, snickering “Sorry Doc, But I can say, she has an Excellent bedside manner.”

Kiff Southerland: snorts and tries to hide his laughter by taking a bite

V’era: rolls her eyes “Anyway, playing Devils Advocate on that matter Pi; Its not like the crew assigned has prior service history, The Alexander is a fresh-build they were all transferred from other posts prior to departure so for them to consider themselves separate from us is just as problematic.”

Entering the Lounge, a fully armored MACO Officer peers around and spots the group, his visage -blips- for a moment before he moves to join them.

What’s on the Menu

Left to Right:
V’era with Redspice-Velvet Cake with Strawberry Icing.
Roptojmey with Stuffed Sausage and Vegetable Kebabs.
Pi with a Double Texas Barbeque Bacon Burger.
Brannigan with Fried Chicken Wings (Full sized-Dry Rub).
Southerland with Mixed Tacos

Zach Brannigan: “Ey Marco!”

Mark-0: The Security Officer stops between Pi and Roptojmey “Hey, Mind if I join y’all?”

3 of 14 (Pi) : “Of course, please.” he motions to the empty seat next to V’era

Zach Brannigan: “Should we order you something? do you even eat?”

Kiff Southerland: leans over and slaps Zach across the arm with the back of his hand “Rude.” he whispers

Mark-0: gives an audible chuckle “I don’t -have- to eat like you organics, but the posture is always a pleasure.” he takes the seat and snaps his fingers, a holographic smoothie cup appears before him, with a comical bendy straw. He picks up the cup, the straw phasing through his helmet as there is a distinct drinking sound coming from the photonic lifeform

V’era: She chuckles at Marco as she takes a bite of her cake “So what brings you down?”

Mark-0: “Actually I was looking for some advice. Back on the Sun Tzu, we only had the one Holodeck, so there wasn’t much personal recreational use. Now we have like…six of them, and Crewmen keep asking me what I like to do. I wanted to see if ya’ll had any recommendations for programs?”

Zach Brannigan: “I got tons I could share with you!”

The rest of the table in unison “NO!”

Zach Brannigan: “Oh Please…I don’t need the Holodeck for that! Anyway, Kiff was just playing a Holo-Series not too long ago. I played a couple of episodes with him, not bad, what was it called? Saints Row?”

Kiff Southerland: “Yea…I stopped playing that.” he stated meekly, looking away from Zach

Zach Brannigan: “Oh, you got to that part huh? I told you not to model characters after real people.”

Kiff Southerland: “You knew that was going to happen?!” he huffed angrily

Mark-0: “Sorry, what is a Saints Row?”

Kiff Southerland: shakes his head at Zach before turning his attention to Mark-0 “It’s a fairly large action adventure world, featured in post-WW3 Earth. You play the Leader of a Street Gang amid a Territory War going on in the city. It has a mix of serious and wackiness plotlines, and you can ignore the plot entirely to just explore the city or cause mayhem if you wanted.”

Roptojmey: “Damn Kiff, I didn’t take you for ‘Gang-Warlord Material’. Federation ever dissolves and we turn to roaming pirates, remind me to sign up with your crew.” he teases

Kiff Southerland: The bolian began to turn purple (Blue-skin version of blushing)

Mark-0: “Is that…a common attraction?” he asked, tilting his head in a bit of confusion and concern

Kiff Southerland: “Oh no, I got it off a Malon Trader back on Drozana, Don’t worry, I ran all the security protocols before I uploaded it.”

V’era: “Its really up to the individual. Some people prefer story based holo programs, some interactive challenges, sports activities. Just depends on what tickles your interest”

Roptojmey: “Truth! Currently me and Three here are playing a program called ‘Minecraft’.”

Mark-0: “And what is that?”

3 of 14 (Pi) : “It’s a Sandbox Environmental Survival program. You are dropped in a pre-generated biome world and are left to explore, survive and cultivate the world around you, allowing for great creativity.”

Roptojmey: “And once we get set up, we will enter the Black Gate into Gre’thor, and harvest the Pearls of Ender, so that we may enter the Void Dimension and slay a Giant Regenerating Black Dragon!” he added excitedly

3 of 14 (Pi) : slowly facepalms, as TECHNALLY, the Klingon doctor was not wrong

Mark-0: “Yea…I might pass on that one. What do you use the Holodeck for?” He asked, turning to V’era

Zach Brannigan: snorts

V’era: Shoots Zach a venomous glare for a second, before turning back to the Security Chief “Actually, me and Jessie play a program called Red Rider Redemption. It follows the story of an outlaw in an old western setting. We tend to stay out of the plot and find things to do. I like it for the Horse riding through the terrain.”

Roptojmey: “Isn’t your nickname on that game ‘Hatchett Hanna’?”

V’era: “That wasn’t the question…” she stated flatly, deflecting to taking a bite of her cake

Zach Brannigan: “You all got it wrong, He needs to play Dead Space. It’s a Survival Action Horror Simulation aboard the USG Ishimura. Tons of Shooting, Jumpscares, and Undine like Monsters! And Hell, your already dressed for the part!”

Mark-0: looks down at his armor in confusion

Kiff Southerland: “Speaking of which, were you still interested in a visual modification?”

Mark-0: “Yea…I was thinking more about it. Kinda makes my job a little difficult when I look like a Military Insurgent.”

V’era: “Oh? Your going to change your appearance? Are you picking a race or specific look?”

Mark-0: “Yea, I don’t want to go down the rabbit hole of race and facial options. I want to keep my ‘armored’ look, just something a little… ‘less’.

3 of 14 (Pi) : “Less ‘Im here to gun you down’ but still have that ‘I can still kick your ass’ look?”

Mark-0: “Exactly. I mean, that’s part of the reason I got curious about the Holodeck. In truth its more like my planet of Origin if you think about it. But when you register time, Crewmen are interested if your running a like-minded program so they could join in, so I wasn’t sure what the options were. I appreciate the suggestions, its given me a lot to think about…including the fact that most of you may need Therapy. he jested

The table, with the exception of Kiff who was partly paying attention, raised their drinks to toast the Holograms assessment before breaking into a unison laughter.

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Several members of the crew have gathered in one of the now numerous science labs aboard the USS Alexander, the Senior Staff included as Lt.Cmdr Vera and Lt.Cmdr Southerland prepare their presentation.

V’era: Thank you all for coming. A few months ago, Chief of Security Marco approached Engineering and the Photonic Studies Science department in hopes of finding a more suitable appearance for himself.

Kiff Southerland: Marco was designed following the successful launch of Facility 4028, which is an all photonic outpost. R&D was looking into utilizing photonic personnel as supplementary ground forces for the numerous conflicts we found ourselves in. Therefor his programming was focused more on operational ability than his outward appearance.

V’era: That, coupled with the incident which caused his program to evolve and gain sentience, his source code has been intermixed within itself, making it difficult and dangerous for anyone to just go in and change settings like you would a holo-program.

Kiff Southerland: Yea, last time I tried to modify his appearance, he ended up with a light pinkish hue that he was not too pleased with.

[There was a small wave of light chuckling from the crowed]

Zach Brannigan: Oh I remember that week! Thought he was gonna shoot me with all the pink jokes I came up with.

V’era: Thankfully with inert copies of his code, and ample time in both departments, we believe we have finally managed to make these changes. All simulations have come back with positive outcomes, so today we will be enacting the changes to his code live.

Roptojmey: Ya make it sound like your performing surgery.

Kiff Southerland: Essentially that is exactly what we are doing. The complexity of a sentient hologram’s source code is about as complex as, organic brain surgery. One wrong move, and we could risk him losing functionality, personality, his sentience, or even cause a fatal error to occur. Its something we cant approach lightly

Maikull Barron: And your sure your ok with this Marco?

Mark-0: [heard over the rooms intercom system] Well, I asked them to do it. And if they mess it up, I wont be around to really complain much about it, so why not.

Jessica Barron: But why the change? I think you look good just the way you are.

Mark-0: Well thank you Commander. But there has been several factors leading up to this. For one, this is akin to you changing your hair color, or putting on a new outfit, so its just cosmetic, nothing major. Secondly, as security chief; as where in many circumstances it pays looking like a tact’ed out space soldier, it makes other instances more difficult. Unless they know me, some people withdraw in fear, especially children. And how would a first contact mission go, if you showed up with a known Federation Military Unit in your mix; could send the wrong impression. But I think what really set this off was our last mission to 4028. The Bailiff programs deemed me a ‘security threat’ due to us looking identical. I’m no longer what I was programmed to be, so I want my exterior image to reflect that growth.

3 of 14 (Pi) : Cant argue with that.

Maikull Barron: Alright then. V’era, Kiff; Proceed when ready.

[The two officers nod and turn their attention to the console behind them. On the viewscreen, the -live- image of Mark-0 fades from view as his program is placed in SAFE-Mode while the two begin to input the changes.]

V’era: Funny enough, Marco was the one who designed this new look, and I have to say, its quite the catch, and very ‘him’.

[there is a few more moments of silent typing before the holographic console behind them begins to hum and pulse with energy. The crowd turn their attention away from the monitor and watch the console intently]

Kiff Southerland: Upload complete. Reinitializing Program in three…two…one…

=Click to Reveal Mark-0's New Look=

[Mark-0 materialized on the console standing tall on display for everyone. There is light ohh’s and ahh’s as well as some light applause as the Security Chief begins to flex his limbs, checking to make sure everything is in order. Finally he crosses his arms and peers into the crowed]

Mark-0: So…How do I look?

Zach Brannigan: Taller.

Roptojmey: Slimmer.

V’era: His height was increased by about 3 inches.

Zach Brannigan: [shakes his head] Lucky man, if only I could get an extra thre—

3 of 14 (Pi) : [playfully smacks Zach’s shoulder with the back of his hand, cutting the Andorian off before he could finish his sentence, causing them both to laugh]

Kiff Southerland: His weight and with dimensions weren’t really changed at all.

Roptojmey: Nah, it was that MACO Armor, looked like someone shrink-wrapped him in a compression sock and stuck an oversized chest piece and fishbowl on him.

Mark-0: Tell me how you really feel Doc. [He chuckled, hopping down from the console. Several junior crewmen approached to get a better look at him, which he expected and allowed]

3 of 14 (Pi) : Well, you certainly look more…fit. [he remarked, pointing out the ‘cybernetic abs’ the hologram seemed to be sporting]

Mark-0: Not that aerodynamics play any part in my physiology, but better to look the specimen of fitness, in a high demanding field. Give inspiration to others where I can.

Jessica Barron: Lets not go there, I don’t need a ‘shirt off’ between you and Brannigan right now! [she joked, causing another wave of laughter in the crowd].

Zach Brannigan: Yea, but you still look like a robot. I thought the whole point of this was to look more…I dunno…unique?

Mark-0: This is unique. But I know what your referring too. I didn’t feel right picking an ‘organic’ look, because…well…I’m not. I wanted something that was homage to how I was designed, and I felt if I tried to go organic, there would be too much pressure and bias as to which race id choose.

Maikull Barron: Fair enough. I like the incorporated uniform design. More in-line with security than before, though still not fleet-standard, though given the circumstances I think your ‘pass’ in that department is grandfathered over. You look good Marco.

Mark-0: Thank you captain.

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OOC These collection of events Follow Operation: Roadblock, just before the “Battle of Jupiter Station” in The Fujiwhara Effect more will be added as time goes on, just super swamped IRL.

The Address

All Hands; this is Captain Barron.

We are in-route to Jupiter Station in the Sol System to link up with Starfleet Command in a last-ditch effort to stop the entity known as ‘The Other’. Intelligence reports confirm the Alexander and Kerasarge were the only two to escape from Task Force Once….the October and D’Ishae did not make it.

Furthermore, a secondary Task Force of 7 more ships of the 38th Fleet were reported lost in engagement to the Other. Starfleet Command has ordered all other ships to remain away from the Sol System, in preparation for potential fallout of this attack…in essence; Us, The Kerasarge, and what coalition remains in Sol are all that is left to stand in the way.

I will not lie to you, our tactical threat assessment of ‘The Other’ has not changed, there is no super weapon waiting for us, no exploit we have suddenly uncovered to combat this cosmic threat. Starfleet Command assures they still have an Ace up their sleeve, but in order for that to work, in order for there to be hope in the universe, we must hold the line. We must stand strong in the face of unimaginable odds, for our families…for our friends…for our loved…and for our lost. For the Future Generations to come, we must stand strong here and now, and be ready to lay down our lives if need be to protect that, which our fellow friends and colleagues have already sacrificed for.

What we are hoping for, is a Miracle. But I for one believe in miracles. I have seen so many of them come when every other indication would say that hope was lost. Hope is never lost. After the devastation of Wolf 359, no one could imagine we could stand against the brute force of the Borg. Qo’nos was all but done for when the Undine readied their planet killer against them. Earth was on the verge of destruction against the might of the Iconian’s in the greatest war we have seen in our lifetimes. Yet in every instance, against the bleakest of odds, we continued to fight, and at the end of the 11th hour we found redemption…we found hope.

We may not see it now, but I have hope that we will see through to the end of this conflict. I have hope that our allied galaxy can stand against any threat, no matter how great. I have faith, in each and every one of you to do what is right, to act in the best interest of our future and stand with me. I understand some of you may be scared, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified myself. And if you truly feel, you cannot make that sacrifice today, that you cannot give 100% to this cause, know that I will hold no judgement against you. Shuttles are being prepared now for any who wish to evacuate…

But I am not leaving. The Senior staff, is not leaving. Not because of orders, not because their not scared, but because of the oath we all took to uphold the principles of our office, because of those who already sacrificed so much to get us to where we are today, because If we cant stand as one in the face of oblivion…then who will? In less than an hour, we will join others from around the galaxy. And we will launch the greatest ‘Last Stand’ in the history of the Federation. We cannot be consumed by fear, but united in our resolve.

You are not asked to throw your life away to delay the inevitable, you are asked to fight for our freedom. Freedom, not from Tyranny, Oppression, or Persecution, but form Annihilation. We are fighting for our right to live, to exist! And should we win the day, it will stand as an additional pillar of unity, when the galaxy stood as one and declared in one voice:

We will not go quietly into the night!

We will not vanish without a fight!

We’re going to live on!

We’re going to survive!

All Hands, Ready your Stations! Let’s show this ‘Other’ who’s reality this belongs too! Lets Remind these Terran Bastards why WE are called the PRIME Universe!

Even among the bulkheads, and thick plates of Neutronium plating, a roaring eruption of cheers could be heard echoing all across the ship. Jupiter would be the last stand for the Alexander…No more Running…Orders be damned!

The Lovers - Incomplete

Short Story Pending

The Brothers - Incomplete

Short Story Pending

The Widow - Incomplete

Short Story Pending

The Lost - Incomplete

Short Story Pending