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    IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

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    GA Zaarin
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    IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

    Post  GA Zaarin on Mon Aug 10, 2015 3:04 pm

    TEASER
    Starbase Deep Space Nine, Bajoran Sector
    Exterior view. The starbase floats in the still of space, etching a dark silhouette against the bright background stars. An unusual starship of Federation design, sleek in contour, white accented in black, is docked at one of the upper pylons.

    Cut to station interior.

    Star Base Deep Space Nine, Commander’s Office
    Captain Benjamin Sisko studies the latest casualty report grimly. Despite recent Federation victories, the lists aren’t getting any shorter. The swoosh of his office doors causes him to look up as his first officer, Colonel Kira Nerys of the Bajoran Militia, enters.

    “Captain Sulis is here to see you, sir,” she says.

    “Yes, of course,” Sisko says, wearily setting the padd aside. “Send her in.”

    Kira gives a clipped nod, and as she exits another Bajoran woman enters, copper skinned and sable haired, wearing an unusual Starfleet uniform.

    Sisko rises and walks around his desk. “Captain Sulis,” he greets her.

    “Emissary,” Sulis says. She reaches up and grasps Sisko’s left ear. “It’s true what they say—I’ve never felt a pah like yours.”

    “I’m used to having my ear squeezed by vedeks and kais, but not by Starfleet officers,” Sisko says with an amused grin.

    “Forgive me, Emissary,” Sulis says. “My father was a vedek, and I spent two years at the Tohana Monastery exploring my pah.” Her eyes grow distant. “I was very close to giving up my commission and following in his footsteps. A quiet life of seclusion, serving the Prophets.” She returns to the present. “But the Prophets led me in other directions. As it happened, it was you who made me realize that I could serve both Starfleet and the Prophets.”

    Sisko inclines his head. “Now, if you don’t mind, to business,” he says. He gestures towards a seat and sits down at his desk. “Are you familiar with the Kebrel System?”

    Sulis searches her memory. “It’s along the Cardassian-Federation border,” she says. “It’s a binary star system. As far as I know, there’s nothing significant about it.”

    “That is what we believed as well,” Sisko says, “but a year ago the Dominion attempted to acquire that system as part of a failed cease fire. According to a team of genetically modified analysts, led by Dr. Bashir, Kebrel I has a polynucleic fungus that can be processed into ketracel white. With the wormhole closed to them, the Dominion is facing a shortage of white, and Starfleet Intelligence believes that the Dominion has managed to establish a facility at Kebrel I to harvest this fungus and process it into white.”

    Sulis creases her brow. “If the Dominion were to run out of white, they would lose control of the Jem’Hadar,” she says. “If we could cut off their supply…”

    “Exactly,” Sisko says, raising his brows. “Your orders are to take whatever means necessary to destroy that facility.”

    “Does Starfleet Intelligence have any details on what kind of resistance to expect?” Sulis asks.

    Sisko hands her a padd across the desk. “Everything Starfleet knows about the system and the Dominion forces there is on this padd,” he says, rising. “Good hunting, Captain Sulis.”

    Star Base Deep Space Nine, Promenade
    Despite the war, lunch hour on the Promenade is bustling with activity as various visitors and personnel go about their business. Quark’s Bar is filled with patrons: Morn is at the bar as usual, as is Ezri Dax. Gamblers try their luck at the dabo tables, while others fill the various tables to drink and socialize. The Replimat bustles with a variety of Bajorans and Starfleet personnel, and the daring dine at the Klingon restaurant. The shops do good business. Odo walks by to keep an eye on Quark; Jake wanders the upper Promenade looking for a story.

    But among the locals and wanderers are a number of individuals wearing Starfleet uniforms of an unusual design, waiting to board the USS Jerusalem NX-66942, the prototype Federation starship designed for the sole purpose of combatting the Dominion.
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    Re: IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

    Post  GA Zaarin on Mon Aug 10, 2015 3:04 pm

    Star Base Deep Space Nine, Promenade, Replimat
    A young Chinese woman, fresh out of Starfleet Academy, sits alone at one of the tables of the Replimat. On the table in front of her sits a cup of green tea and a plate of hasparat soufflé, but her attention is on the book in her hand—a real book of paper and cloth. Her short black hair hangs forward as she reads.

    “Mind if I join you?” a cultured voice asks.

    Without waiting for a response, the young man wearing the teal of science/medical and the pips of a lieutenant sits down across from the young woman. He sets down an I’danian spice pudding and a cup of Tarkalean tea.

    “Julian Bashir, chief medical officer, Deep Space Nine,” the young man says with a charming smile. “And by your uniform I would say you’re from the Jerusalem.”

    “Sun Lian, chief science officer,” she responds quietly, averting her eyes.

    “Sun Lian? I read your thesis on ketracel white,” Bashir says. “Your theory on Jem’Hadar physiology is fascinating.”

    Lian blushes. “It’s based almost entirely on your work, doctor,” she protests.

    “No, no, no,” Bashir says. “The data comes from my observations, certainly, but the theory—ah, the theory—that is all yours. And it is brilliant.”

    “I’m glad you liked it,” Lian says, still studying the surface of the table.

    “You know, I have a fascination with old paper books,” Bashir says. “I have quite a few in my collection now, actually. I don’t think I’ve seen that one before, though. What is it?”

    Lian holds up the book so that the cover is fully visible.

    Bashir leans forward to read the gilt title. “Kerem Laan, The Call of the Prophets,” he reads.

    “My captain is Bajoran,” Lian says quietly.

    “When I found out I was being stationed at a station orbiting Bajor, I started listening to Bajoran music,” Bashir says. “Is it any good?”

    “It’s…very pretty,” Lian says. She lifts up the book and begins reading, her voice stronger than before,

    You taught me the courage of the stars before you left,
    How light carries on endlessly even after death.
    With shortness of breath,
    You explained the infinite,
    How rare and beautiful it is to even exist.

    “Lovely. Almost as lovely as you are,” Bashir says with a dapper smile. “Perhaps—”

    “Infirmary to Dr. Bashir—medical emergency.”

    “Blast,” Bashir mutters, rising. “I hope we can talk again, Lian!”

    Lian watches him leave before returning to her book.

    Star Base Deep Space Nine, Promenade, Quark’s
    “Dabo!” the big Caitian’s mewling voice purrs out. He gives a loud laugh as he places more latinum on the table.

    The dabo girl activates the table and the wheel begins to spin. J’Brasha watches it eagerly, like a hunter watching the prey. The spinning begins to slow—each time it passes his bet the fur on J’Brasha’s neck stands up—but at last it falls elsewhere.

    “Dabo!” a Klingon woman shouts loudly.

    J’Brasha collects his latinum and steps away from the table—he knows well enough to quit while he’s ahead. His eyes search the bar. Despite his intimidating appearance he’s an amiable fellow, and he’s certain he can find someone to strike up a conversation with if he searches enough. His eyes light on the station’s chief of security, that shapeshifter, Odo.

    J’Brasha makes his way across the room to his fellow security chief.

    “You must be Security Chief Odo,” he says.

    “That’s right,” the gruff Changeling responds. “Do you have an incident to report?”

    “Not at all,” J’Brasha assures him. “I’m Lieutenant J’Brasha, chief of security of the U.S.S. Jerusalem.”

    Odo grunts. “If you’re concerned about the security of your starship, you needn’t be,” he says. “Between the hive of Starfleet security officers buzzing around like Algorian hornets guarding their nest and the Bajoran security personnel I’ve already assigned, it would take a Klingon assault force to take the ship.”

    J’Brasha smiled genially, exposing his razor-sharp teeth. “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” he says. “I merely wished to introduce myself to you, as a fellow security chief.”

    “Thank you, lieutenant, but that is quite unnecessary,” Odo says.

    “You’re wasting your time, lieutenant,” the Ferengi barkeep interposes. “Odo is a miserly misanthrope who derives no pleasure except from persecuting innocent members of the community.”

    “I don’t persecute ‘innocent members of the community,’” Odo says. “Only you, Quark, and you are anything but ‘innocent.’”

    “You wound me, Odo,” Quark says. To J’Brasha says, “Pay Odo no heed, friend. Now, what can I get you? A drink? A holosuite adventure, perhaps?”

    “A synthehol,” J’Brasha says, sitting down at the bar. “And keep them coming.”

    Star Base Deep Space Nine, Promenade, Upper Floor
    A Romulan woman coolly walks the upper deck of the Promenade. She is not in uniform, or perhaps she simply wears a different uniform—with Romulan fashion, who can tell? She graces all she sees with a cold dismissive glare. She is a long way from Romulus, and life among these inferior beings will be difficult. Still, as an agent of the Tal’Shiar she knows better than to question her duty; she serves the Empire in all things.

    The Dominion is an imminent threat to the Romulan Star Empire; any fool could see that. More importantly, the Dominion War is a significant investment of resources for the Klingons and Federation. If the Romulans play their cards right, they could emerge the dominant power in the Alpha Quadrant. The Cardassians have already been crushed by the Klingons and now the Dominion; the Klingons and Federation have all their might committed to the war against the Dominion. Once the Dominion was defeated, who would have the strength to oppose the Romulans?

    Unfortunately, Sovilak has little confidence that the cards would be played right. If the Tal’Shiar were in charge…But the Tal’Shiar had been devastated by a Changeling plot years before the start of the war, and the position of the Tal’Shiar was now compromised; as for the military leaders—they were short-sighted. They saw only the war, and they had committed too much of the Romulan fleet to the engagement. Fools like Senator Cretak. Sovilak shakes her head. Once she had counted the decimation of the Tal’Shiar a mixed blessing—after all, the Obsidian Order had been completely destroyed, and the Tal’Shiar would rebuild in time. But now time is something they don’t have and it will cost the Romulan Star Empire dearly.
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    bookmonstereliz

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    Re: IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

    Post  bookmonstereliz on Fri Aug 14, 2015 8:53 am

    Star Base Deep Space Nine, Promenade, Upper Floor

    With a padd tucked securely under one arm, and another in her hand, Eve Malkin looked like a woman with a mission, striding down the Upper Promenade deck with purpose. She stopped and leaned against a railing, deft fingers flying over the padd’s sleek surface.

    “It’s quite a ship, isn’t it?” Eve said, addressing the pretty Romulan woman gazing over the bustling people below.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Yerushalayim shel Zahav, in the words of my ancestors.” she continued, not looking up from her padd.
    “Indeed. It is an impressive vessel.”

    The Romulan looked at Eve with a raised eyebrow, curious about the source of her intrusion. The woman wore one of the odd Starfleet uniforms seen around the Star Base in science blue, with markings that were not unimpressive for someone who was obviously young. Her hair was a curly mess, made worse as the young woman tugged at it with long fingers as she paused over her padd.

    Eve hit send on her missive and looked up at her companion, red lips curling into a smile, mischief hiding in the corners of her eyes.
    “It certainly looks marvelous, Subcommander Sovilak. I’m eager to see it in action.”
    “You won’t have to wait long, Commander…”
    “Malkin. Eve Malkin, Chief of Communications.” Eve said stretching out her hand. “I’m heading to the shop to pick up some tea before we leave. The stuff from the replicator is fine, but nothing beats a fresh cuppa. It definitely came in handy during my last commission. Is there anything I can get you while I’m there?”
    “No, thank you.”
    “Well, I’ll see you aboard then.”

    With a friendly nod, Eve pushed off the rail and headed down the walkway, head bent over her padd.
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    Moff Jendob

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    Re: IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

    Post  Moff Jendob on Sat Aug 15, 2015 5:54 pm

    The hologram floats in mid-air. There is no shimmer, no flicker, no betrayal of the phaser rifle's immaterial nature save its casual defiance of the Bajor-standard gravity. A practiced eye sweeps across the weapon; it's the old, reliable model: the blocky head and long tail, sprouting a pair of handgrips. The weapon of an officer and gentlebeing in dire need of superior firepower. Well, maybe fifteen years ago.

    The LCARS panel issues soft beeps under a flurry of keystrokes. Now the rifle shimmers, pixelates, and then reforms into a sleeker form, more clearly of the classical rifle lineage. Polymer buttstock, pistol grip, straight barrel, sights. This is a weapon meant for the recruit thrown into the field… not the officer who can practice when he deems it necessary to practice a “minor province” of his craft.

    Commander Maximilian Yittreas nods with quiet approval at the new Type 3 rifle. In its form, he sees the ancient lineage of shoulder arms. Efficiency, accuracy, ease of use. Obviously, technology helps with each item in its own way, but he still wonders what went through the minds of the engineers that designed the rifles he used in his early career… and that still populate the Deep Space Nine arms lockers.

    He looks down at the panel. “Huh. Tee-ar one-one-six.” His mouth curls into a contemplative frown. He types in the computer, softly wondering, “What are you?”

    The buzz of holographic de-resolution sounds again… followed by a surprised whistle. “Well, hello there.”

    The overall form is similar to the previous phaser rifle, with the curved buttstock and sleek lines. An additional bracing runs from the stock to the base of the pistol grip, and a trigger guard protects (About damned time!, Yittreas muses) the weapon's activation switch. But it's no phaser.

    Max pores over the statistics, types in a few more commands. A gleaming silver ogive protruding from a gray polymer box appears over the TR-116. "Hmm. Ten millimeter, caseless. Nitroguanidine with a... wow, octanitrocubane kicker. Tritanium, with a frangible core and AP tip. Nasty piece of work, aren't you?" He quickly sees why a sizable portion of Starfleet would rather gnaw off both arms before defiling themselves by picking up the weapon. And why their high-minded silliness would probably get a lot of them killed.

    On his homeworld, this weapon would be... advanced, he quickly revises, noticing it is a semi-automatic weapon; better than the bolt-action carbines and rifles copied from Old Earth, to be sure. Certainly, the tactical characteristics trounce any "modern" projectile rifle and most of the early energy weapons being experimented with when he left Ekos, and yet, Max can't help but feel it's a step backward. Granted, the weapon is designed to work in dampening fields that would knock out a phaser or even a rugged Klingon disruptor. He has to credit the designers for using the chemical-based propellant and a heavy slug instead of opting for electromagnetic or gravitic slugthrowing technology that might fall prey to the dampening fields. But would selective-fire be too much to ask? A horde of Borg drones or rampaging Jem'Hadar might not sit still and march forward single file while being picked off.

    Explosive rounds might be good, too, he muses. But then he remembers an old Earth treaty, from before the first steps into space were taken by humanity, still adhered to by the Federation, forbidding the use of expanding, explosive, or payload-bearing munitions in small arms. Damned stupid thing to ban in this day and age.

    I wonder if the Captain would let us have a couple security teams’ worth aboard. Replicator pattern seems to be pretty simple. Then again, the commander realizes, punching a hole through a Jem’Hadar (or two, as the twelve-gram slug would have plenty of penetrating power at its near-hypersonic velocity) might not be quite as effective as massive neural disruption and thermalization of tissues. Besides, he can see where there might just be a bit of bias toward projectiles given his upbringing. Small-arms training was a part of the standard physical education on Ekos for all children starting at age fourteen. He liked shooting then, but in hindsight, the reasoning behind it… the commander shudders inwardly.

    He taps a few more keystrokes. A phaser rifle materializes, this one bulkier and somewhat in between the old 2360s model and the newer units that Starfleet had rushed out just before the Borg attack two years ago. Split emitter, dual power cells flanking the central frame (which betrays a certain Romulan influence, Max notices), truncated shoulder stock and all in a gleaming silvery finish. The compression phaser rifle.

    “I don’t know very many Starfleet officers that enjoy browsing the weapons’ catalog.”

    Yittreas whirls. “You must be Odo.”

    “Mmm,” the security chief grumbles affirmatively. “And you’re another one from the Jerusalem.”

    The commander cocks his bifurcated brow. “Another?”

    The changeling grunts again. “Your security chief introduced himself. Now, why are you using an unsecured holosuite to browse Starfleet weapon designs? Especially one of Quark’s?”

    “His are the only ones I know of? Besides, it’s nothing too highly-classified,” the human quips.

    Deep-set blue eyes narrow in a smoothly-planed face. “Mmm.” This time, it’s in a lower register.

    “I was just finishing up, anyway,” Yittreas tries to ignore the cold sweat starting to prickle at the base of his neck. He can’t deny, not to himself, that he is uneasy in the presence of the changeling security chief. It’s irrational—especially in light of all that Odo had done to resist the Dominion—and yet, there’s always that quiet voice wondering how long he can stand against his own people. How far can he trusted? Yittreas recalls that Starfleet once openly posted its own security officers as an alternative to Odo’s own constables because there was doubt that he could be trusted.
    The security chief studies the commander, head cocking to one side momentarily. “Mmm.”

    Yittreas turns back to shut down the holoprogram. “Next time, you could request the use of a secure terminal,” Odo chides from behind.

    “I will bear that in mind, ah, Security Chief.” Max turns back around as the compression rifle dissolves into nothingness.

    “I’m sure, Commander Yittreas,” the Changeling offers, already halfway through the doors. He doesn’t bother turning his head over his shoulder to direct the sound in Max’s direction. It quickly dawns on the commander that he never offered his name. That icy prickle returns, alloyed with wry amusement and even some irritation. He’d fit in disturbingly well back home.

    Max departs the holosuite and exits onto the Promenade. He briefly glances down at his black-and-crimson-clad forearms. He has to admit, he rather likes the new uniform, even if it felt like he was just getting used to the version released two years before. It did feel a bit snug on the upper body and around the wrists, though. He recalls hearing something about an expert tailor on board…

    But decides the schedule probably doesn’t allow him the time. Best to find the Captain. He moves into the bustling crowd.
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    Re: IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

    Post  Alpha Guardian on Sun Aug 23, 2015 8:45 pm

    Shren looked out the window of the promenade, considering the vastness of space. He found himself gladdened at the sight of a new vessel now at the docking ring of DS9, a ship that he recognized as both his salvation and his prison for the next while. Shren moved from his spot, eager to get on the ship. The closer he came to boarding, the closer he came to disembarking.

    As he walked through the crowded walkways of the promenade, he passed by the bar, a local favorite run by a Ferengi. Shren didn't care for the establishment, though not for any particular reason.

    "I don't suppose it's the need of a new suit that brings you by my shop," came a soothing voice from his left. Shren looked over and saw a Cardassian male, wearing a smirk.

    Frowning, Shren responded. "No, I have no need for clothing beyond that which I have on my back."

    "Ahhh! Headed to war, then! I am so glad to meet you. What was it that you said your name was?"

    "I didn't.. but my name is Shren. Considering the current state of relations, I am surprised to see a Cardassian on board."

    "Yes, the engineer. There's been much eagerness concerning the Jerusalem. You've all been the talk of the station for the past several days. As for myself, my name is Garak. Plain, simple Garak the tailor. I may be a Cardassian, but the good people of this station have come to see me as a member of their family."

    Shren heard the words that Garak said, but he had never been much of one for clever conversation. He heard emptiness in the tailor's words, and the lack of meaning in the statements made him angry, like his time was being wasted. He was too used to machines, things that only talk when there's something wrong.

    "I have no need to idle chatter. Good day, sir." With that, Shren attempted to move past Garak.

    Garak raised his head, "I see. I've offended you. It was truly not my intention. Well, I wish you and your crew the best of luck. And feel free to stop in at my shop for a veteran's discount on a suit after you return from your mission. Good day, Mr. Th'oriness."

    With that, Garak turned and walked back into his shop, stopping to greet every individual along the way. Shren resumed his walk around the promenade toward the Jerusalem, and as he went, asking himself how much of his service record that Cardassian must have memorized...
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    Re: IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

    Post  Floppsie100 on Mon Aug 24, 2015 8:16 pm

    Crarr Esrass stands in the infirmary, treating a Vulcan with a skin fungus disorder. He is very focused on his work, and does not notice when the door to the infirmary whooshes open.

    "Doctor."

    Crarr turns and finds himself face to face with Captain Sulis. "My apologies, Captain. I didn't hear you come in."

    "You're perfectly alright, doctor. I just wanted to confirm that all the supplies that you had requisitioned were ready to be loaded onto the Jerusalem."

    Crarr attempted to think about what the Captain was asking, and paused from his work for a moment. "I shall double check the supplies as soon as I am finished with my patient. Give me one hour and I will be able to tell you for certain."

    "Thank you, doctor. I will expect your response post haste." With that, she turned and left the infirmary and Crarr returned to his work on the Vulcan, attempting to combat the intensity that is Vulcan fungal disorder.

    Thirty seven minutes later, with the Vulcan back on his feet, Crarr dug into the infirmary database to pull up the requisition forms. After studying them for a moment and comparing them with the DS9 supply list, he sees that all of the requisitions are accounted for and ready to be sent into the Jerusalem.

    Doctor Esrass touches the badge on his chest and states "Dr. Esrass to Captain Sulis."

    "Sulis here" comes the reply.

    "All our supplies are accounted for. I will have them transported to the Jerusalem presently."

    "Very good, doctor."

    After this, Crarr goes back to his quarters, where he finds his wife, his co-husband, and his co-wives. He looks at the dinner table and sees a feast of epic proportions, filled with Bolean delicacies and Crarr's favorite dishes. The family had worked hard to set all of this up.

    "We closed the hair salon early to begin preparing so it would be a perfect send off" his wife told him, as the children chase each other round and round the table.

    "This is wonderful", Crarr exclaims, and scoops up Rimena and twirls her around in his arms carefully.

    Mowd comes into the room with one of his daughters in his arms and announces that dinner is ready and they all sit around our large table and dig in.
    As dinner is wrapping up, Rimena excuses herself from the table and returns to the kitchen. Talk continues around the table as normal until Rimena returns with a large cake with four candles a light. The entire room goes quiet as every set of orange eyes turn to look at the cake.

    "Surprise!", shouts Rimena, "we're expecting quadruplets!"

    Everyone shouts and screams in excitement and Crarr leaps up from the table to go set the cake down and scoop Rimena up in another twirling hug.

    "I am so happy you were able to share this news before I left, when did you find out?"

    "Just this morning", said Rimena, "everyone in the infirmary was fantastic at keeping the secret all day so I could tell you all together."

    "What a wonderful send off", said Crarr, but it will be even harder to leave you all now that I know there are FOUR more on their way!

    After making short work of the cake between all fifteen of them, the Esrass family headed to bed for what would be their last time all together for a long time.

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    Re: IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

    Post  Seethray on Wed Sep 02, 2015 8:29 pm

    Samuel Winchester sat up with a shock.  His prosthetic arm had shocked him awake.  He always set his arm to shock him awake when it was an important day not to be late and this was indeed an important day.  Sam took a sonic shower then slipped on his new look federation issue uniform.  He couldn't help but smile knowing today he would actually be able to board the Jerusalem and play with its new tactical systems.  He had arrived at the station yesterday but wasn't allowed to board until today when the majority of the crew would arrive.  After finishing his cup of Raktajino, Sam grabbed up his PADD's and bags and headed to the docking port. Along the way, Sam happened to pass a Klingon in a federation uniform.

    "Lt. Commander Worf"

    "Yes"

    "I've heard stories of your prowess as a warrior and of the bat'leth. I was wondering if you would spar with me sometime. I have had some training with the bat'leth and would appreciate a sparring match to determine my skill against a master."

    "A true warrior is always up for a challenge to test his skills in combat. When you return from your mission aboard the Jerusalem I will be honored to do combat with you Lt. Commander."

    "Thank you sir! have a good day."

    And with that Sam set off for the Jerusalem again.
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    GA Zaarin
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    Re: IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

    Post  GA Zaarin on Thu Sep 03, 2015 5:15 pm

    At last your combadges chime and the computer’s voice says, “All Jerusalem senior staff report to upper pylon  C for immediate embarkation. Other Jerusalem personnel report to your designated transporter pad.”

    You arrive at the upper pylon together, and you find Vice Admiral Ross, Captain Sulis, Captain Sisko, Chief of Operations Miles O’Brien, a middle-aged Bajoran woman in golden robes, and a middle-aged man in a standard Starfleet engineering uniform (with a lieutenant’s pips) all waiting for you.

    “All systems go, Chief?” Sisko asks.

    “I’ve checked her over and she should be all set, sir,” O’Brien answers.

    “Good luck, captain,” Ross says, shaking Sulis’s hand. “You’ve got a fine ship and a fine crew. You’ll do Starfleet proud.”

    “Thank you, sir,” Sulis says.

    “As a Starfleet officer, I wish you luck,” Sisko says, grasping Sulis’s hand. “And…as Emissary, I say walk with the Prophets.”

    “Walk with the Prophets, Emissary,” Sulis says.

    The woman in gold steps forward. Sulis lowers her eyes, saying, “Kai Winn.”

    Winn reaches out and takes Sulis’s left ear between her thumb and index finger. “You have your father’s pah, my child,” she says. “I am surprised you chose to abandon the service of the Prophets to serve nonbelievers.”

    “The Prophets call us all differently, Eminence,” Sulis says. “I walk the path the Emissary has laid out for us.”

    A glimmer of something like dislike flares briefly in the kai’s pale eyes, but they are serene again in a moment. “We must all listen when the Prophets speak to us,” she half-mumbles. “Would it be against Federation policy for me to bless your mission?”

    “I don’t know about Federation policy, but I would be honored,” Sulis says, giving an enquiring glance to Sisko and Ross. Sisko inclines his head.

    Winn holds her arms at her side and lifts up her hands, palm upward. “May the Prophets guide you and keep you,” she says. “May your path be straight, and may your enemies fall before you. Walk with the Prophets, child.”

    “Good luck, captain,” Ross says again. As he and Sisko leave, they shake hands with each of you. O’Brien follows. The lieutenant, however, lingers behind a moment. “If I, um, could have a brief word…before…y’all leave?” he says with a Texas twang.

    Sulis inclines her head.

    “I was part of the team that designed the Jerusalem, and she’s the finest ship to ever come out of the Utopia Planitiae yards,” he says, beaming with pride. “I know y’all’re gonna do the Federation proud. I just want y’all to know that if you need anything, we’re standing by to help.” He shakes the captain’s hand and starts to walk away, but he pauses when he comes to Lieutenant Th’oriness. “Lieutenant Shren Th’oriness, right? It’s gonna be a real privilege for you, being chief engineer of this fine ship. It’ll sure look mighty fine on your service record.” He grins and grasps your hand with both hands and shakes firmly. He then takes his leave.

    You make your way to the bridge. “Captain on deck!” the duty officer calls out, taking his post at conn; helm is manned by a Vulcan lieutenant. The rest of you take your respective posts, and Captain Sulis stands before the captain’s chair; the duty officer hands her a padd.

    “‘To Captain Sulis Amari, stardate 52346.3,’” she reads. “‘You are hereby requested and required to take command of the USS Jerusalem NX-66942, and its associated craft, the USS Jordan and the USS Nile. Signed Vice Admiral William J. Ross, Starfleet Command.’ Lieutenant Nelson, I relieve you.”

    “Aye, sir, I stand relieved,” the duty officer says.

    Captain Sulis takes her seat in the captain’s chair and presses the com button. “Attention, all hands,” she says. “This is your captain speaking. You have all been assigned to the Jerusalem because your superior officers have deemed you the best in your given fields; be proud of this moment. This is not a pleasure cruise; wherever the Dominion threat is greatest, that is where we’ll be. But where the Dominion fights only for conquest and to impose a twisted sense of order, we fight to protect our homes, our families, and our friends. Remember that. Consult your superior officers for you first assignments; walk with the Prophets.”

    She rises. “So we begin,” she says. “I know Federation policy, but aboard this ship I prefer to be addressed as ‘captain’ or ‘ma’am.’ Mr. Taurik, set course for the Kabrel System, warp factor 8.”

    “Aye, ma’am,” Taurik says.

    “Subcommander Sovilak, engage cloak,” Sulis says.

    “Cloak engaged, captain,” Sovilak says.

    “All senior staff, assemble in the CIC,” Sulis says. “You have the bridge, Mr. Nelson.”

    “Aye, ma’am,” he says.

    You follow Sulis to the CIC, where she takes her seat at the head of the table, and you sit down according to rank.

    “First, I want you to know that I have studied all of your service records extensively, and I know you will make a fine crew,” Sulis says. “Starfleet is dispatching us to Kabrel II, where the Dominion is believed to be processing ketrecel-white from polynucleic fungi. Ketrecel-white is an essential enzyme for the Jem’Hadar; disrupting the Dominion’s supply of it could potentially hinder their entire war effort. Unfortunately, our intelligence on the Kabrel system is limited; what we know comes from a probe sent into the system by the Romulans.” She inclines her head to Subcommander Sovilak. “The probe was destroyed before it could make its way into the inner system, but its long range sensors detected humanoid life signs on the second planet and one or more ships in orbit—ships transmitting Dominion signatures. Starfleet Intelligence has scrubbed the data and managed to assess the mass in orbit; Starfleet believes that there is at least one Jem’Hadar battle cruiser and between three and six fighters. I want the ship prepared for all possibilities. We cannot win against these odds, but we have to hold out for as long as it takes to neutralize the facility. There is also one other complication: the Dominion will doubtless be prepared for cloaked ships and we can assume its patrols will be employing anti-proton beams. We cannot rely on having the element of surprise.”

    Captain Sulis straightens. “Lieutenant J’Brasha, I want you to prepare the Jerusalem for potential boarders; coordinate with Commander Winchester concerning the possibility of a ground assault on the facilities.”

    “Aye, captain,” J’Brasha purrs.

    “Commander Winchester, see to it that all weapon and defense systems are ready for combat,” Captain Sulis says.

    “Commander Malkin, coordinate with Lieutenant Sun to see if you can gather any additional intelligence about the Kabrel System and the Dominion presence there,” Sulis says. “Also, contact General Martok; inform him to have reinforcements standing by.”

    “Lieutenant Th’oriness, double check all essential systems for battle-readiness and keep damage control on standby,” Sulis says. “Coordinate with Commander Winchester as necessary.”

    “Doctor Crarr, prepare to receive casualties,” Sulis says.

    “Commander Yittreas, I want battle drills scheduled at random intervals,” Sulis says. “This crew hasn’t worked together before; I want things to be as…intuitive as possible by the time we’re in actual combat.”

    “Any questions?” Sulis asks.

    [You may ask questions here.]

    “You all have your assignments,” Sulis says. “Dismissed.”


    Last edited by GA Zaarin on Sat Sep 19, 2015 3:17 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Misspelled "Kabrel" as "Kebrel")
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    Moff Jendob

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    Re: IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

    Post  Moff Jendob on Sat Sep 19, 2015 2:55 pm

    The commander picked up his PADD as he nodded to the captain. "Aye aye, ma'am."

    He shifted the PADD to his left hand and began entering some data. The Kabrel system was two parsecs away. At Warp 8, he thought while typing in the figures into the built-in calculation program.

    Less than fifty-six hours. And he had to have a built-in window prior to dropping out of warp: the crew could hardly be run ragged just before entering a hostile area. Yittreas kept his mild frustration from showing, and quietly entered some more calculations.

    He looked up again, glancing at Captain Sulis. A small, icily mirthful smile tugged at his lips. "Are live-fire drills an option," he paused a moment, and the smile faded as he thought the unpleasant dearth of information on Dominion sensor capabilities. "Or is there concern about a stray nadion burst or gamma emission giving us away on the way in?"
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    GA Zaarin
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    Re: IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

    Post  GA Zaarin on Sat Sep 19, 2015 3:19 pm

    "While our energy distribution network is better balanced than that of the Defiant," the captain says, "we still can't risk giving the Dominion any advantage in penetrating our cloak."
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    Moff Jendob

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    Re: IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

    Post  Moff Jendob on Sun Nov 01, 2015 2:47 pm

    Yittreas nodded. "Aye, ma'am."

    He winced inwardly, but kept it away from his features. Simulations were well and good, but real maneuvers and real firing of the weapons allowed testing of the actual systems under actual strain. Max knew Sulis was well aware, but she had a valid point... two parsecs was not enough to be safe. Even allowing a solid twelve-hour flight between their practice area and the Kabrel system still put the ship less than a light-year and a half out.

    She was absolutely right. But he didn't like it. If they had more time, more distance... maybe. And if wishes were horses...

    "I'll have a full schedule for your review within a few hours, Captain."
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    Re: IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

    Post  GA Zaarin on Thu May 12, 2016 9:06 pm

    In a startling turn of events, Q appears, and with a wave of his hand the ship vanishes and is replaced by scorching sand as far as the eye can see. You find yourselves weaponless and surrounded by a swarm of undead Egyptian pharaohs armed with kopeshes. You are hopeless outnumbered, and your end is grim, bloody, and painful, but Q finds this grizzly sport mildly entertaining--if lacking panache. What an ignominious end to a promising start! farao The Traveler and Wesley find it less amusing, and attempt a stereotyped Native American ritual on your behalf--to no avail.

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    Re: IC: Star Trek Jerusalem, Episode 001: "Jerusalem of Gold"

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