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6 yrs ago
Abide with me; fast falls the eventide; the darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me.
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6 yrs ago
O hear us when we cry to Thee for those in peril on the sea.
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THE STATE OF EMPIRE, 2387


STAR TREK: THE NEW ORDER

DISCORD


Peace reigns in the Quadrant. A triumphant Federation has destroyed the mortal enemy of Freedom, the Dominion, and sent it back across the wormhole from where it came, and now stands as the predominant power in the region. Their century-long enemy, the hardfought foe of Cardassia, has been brought to heel and, with an allied - cynics might say puppet - government, they are no longer a thorn on the side of Starfleet. Relations with the Klingon Empire, disregarding the usual border disputes and brazen acts of individual privateers, have never been higher. Even the Romulan Empire, shrouded behind the veil of the Neutral Zone, has been making overtures of peace and reconciliation. Optimistic scholars say that reunification with Vulcan is possible within a generation. And all of this is to the direct benefit of the Federation, which in the wake of the Dominion War has swelled to a size never seen before. In other words, the Federation stands unchallenged in its corner of the Galaxy. It seems that the Eternal Peace, which billions of men and women gave their lives for in dozens of star systems and fleet actions, was a dream that was worth fighting for. It is now not only a dream, but a reality made possible by their sacrifice. Post-War prosperity rings in good times throughout the Federation, as Starfleet returns to its normal mission of exploration after being on war footing for almost ten years. It seems that life, after such chaos and destruction, is finally returning to normal.

But it is soon all about to change.

Disjointed and oft contradictory reports begin flooding the listening posts along the Neutral Zone, the officers manning the post not used to such activity from the usually secretive and paranoid Empire. Not much is able to be made out of the chaotic transmissions, except visions of an Apocalypse drawing near. As more reports fly in, the picture comes into focus. The worst fears of Starfleet are confirmed when a Romulan Warbird decloaks on the Federation side of the Neutral Zone, asking for asylum for their crew:

Romulus has been destroyed, and the Romulan Empire is disintegrating by the minute.

The various client states and slave races once kept in check by the military might of the Emperor are unleashed upon the dying Empire. The Remans, not having tasted independence since Man discovered fire on Earth, raise up the standards of their ancient Kingdom. But there are many claimants to the Obsidian Throne, each with their own men to draw upon. The Nausicaans, the Vronnuks, the Troknai, and the thousand other slave races once subject to oppressive Romulan rule too raise their banners in rebellion, but only time will tell if their struggle for independence will succeed.

The Romulan Government, having been decapitated by the loss of Romulus, scrambles to find itself in the swirling mess of the Empire. A Provisional Council, set up along Federation ideals of representative democracy - or at least a Romulan conception of it - is formed and quickly finds itself in contact with the Federation, seeking aid in the coming civil strife. Elsewhere, warlords with their squadrons roam the Empire, a headless army without a leader or a mission. They tear through star systems, looking for purpose but finding only loot and bloodshed. Rumors roll throughout the remnants of the Romulan Star Navy that, somewhere deep in Imperial space, the Empire continues on with a relative of the last Emperor on the throne, and is preparing itself for the restoration of the Empire.

It is clear to all the powers in the region that the vacuum caused by the destabilization of the Empire can only mean one thing. War is coming. The Klingons mobilize their military forces and begin sending punitive expeditions into the fractured and weakened Imperium, exacting revenge for crimes done onto their people. Squadrons of birds-of-prey and cruisers fly from their bases, bloodlust in their eyes as they descend upon the defenseless Romulan colonies.

Frantically, the 12th Fleet - normally kept in reserve for anti-piracy operations, is deployed to the Neutral Zone to deal with the incoming refugee crisis and, ostensibly, to keep the peace. One of these ships, practically rushed out of the drydock, is the USS Vigilance, an aged Ambassador-class starship in drydock for extended repairs. The crew is picked from those on temporary duty assignment and, with a brief shakedown cruise to the Neutral Zone the only thing to prepare them, are sent out to enforce the Federation's ideals of Freedom, Democracy, and Liberty.

Or, at least, that is what they believe. For the dawn of a New Galactic Order is peaking over the Milky Way Horizon, and it can be stopped by no man.

The Meat of IT

Hello all! Thanks for reading that little blurb but I wanted to set the scene for all of you "in-character" before I set about expositioning. So basically, the story picks up right where the first reboot movie leaves us, with the destruction of Romulus. Instead of fleeing to an alternate universe, we take up the story and pursue it to the end here. I don't really have a full thorough plot planned out except in generalities (that I won't show my hand to just yet!) but the idea is that there will be episodic-like missions that grow into a whole story arc. Nothing in this roleplay will be self-contained, but rather every mission our characters go on will affect things. So that means your decisions will impact my idea of the plotline! How exciting.

I anticipate this to deal with a lot of themes that are commonplace in history and today: the cutting of the cake of a dying Empire by stronger powers, the clashing of Empires for their spheres of influence, an uncontrollable refugee crisis, and everything in between. This story may be a little "dark" for Star Trek but I believe that it's something that is topical and definitely something that would occur. The destruction of Romulus, and the fracturing of their Empire, is a tantalizing subject that I believe can yield a lot of story potential.

I am in the Navy myself so I will try my best to inject my subject knowledge onto Starfleet, and I hope that all of you can bear with me as I may slightly alter some things that otherwise would be considered "non-canon" or unspoken of. One of these will be enlisted personnel. You will see more of this later in this post when I talk about characters I need filled, but we will see the whole level of the crew lined up to what a real-life Navy ship has. A ship cannot run without its chiefs or its petty officers, and I believe a starship is no different. We will pretend as if Star Trek always had visible enlisted personnel. That means no more Ensigns doing the work that Seamen would normally do.

I'm willing to take in everyone's suggestions for where to take this story, like "episodes" that you would want to see played out. Remember this is your story too. I will take the role of not only the Captain, but also of the "Narrator" who will occasionally drop information pertinent to move the storyline along. This may be unorthodox but I want to make sure the story moves towards a conclusion, as I've done roleplays in the past that, for the lack of a better word, meander. And, finally, I will avoid sticking to any EU (STO and/or novels) on their vision of the Trek post-Nemesis/Romulus destruction. I will take some notes and cues from them, but this story is self-contained. It allows for more freedom of movement.

Finally, I expect people to have some subject matter knowledge on Star Trek and the ability to write in the universe and also with a military bearing on it. I know Star Trek doesn't have this but the world post-Dominion War, I imagine Starfleet to be far more militarized than what we've seen. As far as posting, I want to emphasize quality over all else. A length of a post, as long as it's a paragraph or two, doesn't matter as much to me as the quality of it. Proper grammar, descriptive words, all that good stuff. Expect this to be held to a "High Casual" standard.

Essentially we will be controlling senior officers and their respective departments. There will a slight deviation from RPing orthodoxy on characters in this RP, as all of the characters already are written up by me. Essentially you as the RPer will pick a department (Sciences, Combat, Operations) and control the two senior officers there and their respective departments. I will be controlling the Command Staff (CO, XO, and CMC). If enough people show interest, I'll post the OOC with the characters and fact-sheets.
Would you be opposed to having an NCR Trooper, or some kind of Army officer, as part of the guard detail? I imagine the Happy Trails Caravan Company to be in relation to the NCR Government like the EIC was to the British Government, and thus I don't think it would be too out of character (especially 100+ years after) to have some sort of governmental presence on this mission.
Since we're waiting for someone to post, I'll give a nice little teaser to keep everyone interested (and myself motivated):

Whoever is still game, please post up.
I posted the IC. @inkarnate @JB @KaiserElectric @Dnafein please post your CS's with some haste.

I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above,
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love;
The love that asks no questions, the love that stands the test,
That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.


CHAPTER ONE: DISINTEGRATION


Somewhere near the Neutral Zone
USS VIGILANCE
STARDATE 64607


"-Romulan refugee ships have begun to filter across the Neutral Zone. Starfleet ships have been dispatched to assist in aid operations, which is becoming the greatest humanitarian crisis of the Alpha Quadrant's history. Here with us is-"

"-Defense Minister Thuzok Rossah has announced that the joint Klingon-Federation task force has entered Romulan space and is proceeding to make contact with the Romulan Provisional Government in the Hasseleh system. The Romulan Provisional Government consists of former sen-"

"-in soccer , Vulcan has beat Earth 5-4 in the third round of the Federation Cup. They will proceed onto play the Sauria in the next match tomorrow. We'll now take it to T'Pra for the latest stock exchan-"


Captain Strenn switched off the newsreader. It was all too much. He sat in silence in his ready room, the stars streaming past the large window above the settee. A cup of herbal tea, made from leaves grown in the arid deserts of the Forge, was slowly losing its warmth on the table before him. The Vulcan Captain's mind was racing, far faster than he could handle with his nearly five decades of carefully constructed mental walls. His father would be utterly ashamed that his eldest son could not keep his emotions in check, but how could he? Strenn had been aboard the T'Kumbra, in fact had been her Executive Officer, when it was destroyed on that fateful day above Cardassia. Captain Solok, that brave officer, went down with the ship and with most of the crew. Strenn, for his bravery, was promoted to Captain and awarded the highest award the Federation can bestow. Strenn, however, considered it an insult, even contemplated on resigning his commission. But that would not logical, since Starfleet needed experienced officers now more than ever.

And so that's what brought him to this lofty position as a Commanding Officer of a cruiser, no matter how aged she might be. It was a high responsibility to be a starship captain, and he felt the pressure sit heavily upon his shoulders now that he was sitting in the central seat. But the question "What would Solok do?" raged in his mind every time he made a decision, even if it was 'Boats, ahead warp five.' Solok was a true Starfleet officer, and more, he was a true Vulcan. Strenn, on the other hand, was only a fair facsimile.

The door buzzed, breaking through the clouded thoughts of the Vulcan captain.

"Enter."

The Executive Officer of Vigilance, Commander Udrus Ahrume, a Bajoran, entered into his ready room. A capable, brave, and intelligent officer, Strenn recalled his service record as the Bajoran entered the room, although prone to emotional outbursts when confronted with Cardassians. Thankfully, on this mission they would be as far away from Cardassia as anyone could be. The Bajoran stopped just before the coffee table and stood at attention, his Service Uniform immaculate and inspection ready. The stars glimmered off of his well-polished shoes, "Sir, we've entered Romulan space."

"Good...." Strenn rose to his feet and without further discussion joined the Commander as they walked back onto the bridge. It was bustling with activity, as to be expected at such a critical mission hour.

"Attention on deck!" Lieutenant von Körner, the Officer of the Deck, shouted as the Captain entered the bridge.

"As you were." Strenn waved his hand and approached the OOD, "Any updates, Lieutenant?"

"USS Courageous is requesting all vessels attached to the Fleet connect to her channel. She is going to begin broadcasting soon." The Lieutenant made his watch report, still standing at attention before Captain Strenn, "other than that, there has been some odd readings from the Warp Core and from minor systems on Deck 6, but Engineering is dealing with it and it has not affected any operations."

"Very well." Strenn nodded, "I relieve you, sir."

"I stand relieved. Attention in the bridge, Captain Strenn has the deck!" Lieutenant von Körner shouted once more and the bridge, once more, leapt to attention.

"This is Captain Strenn, I have the bridge." And with those words, the bridge returned to work after the playthrough of centuries-old naval tradition. Captain Strenn, tugging down on his Service Uniform, took his seat at the captain's chair and turned towards the Communications Station, "Chief, put Courageous through."

"Aye aye, sir." Operations Specialist Chief Kernaghan obeyed the order and, with a slight move of hand, the viewscreen that once showed stars was replaced with the bridge of the Sovereign-class starship, the flagship of 12th Fleet. At the center of the screen was Commodore Doma, a grizzled Bolian and a veteran of the War. Strenn remembered that he had been the CO of a minesweeper, operating along the Breen Front. Vigilance must have been the last to connect, for shortly after he was put on the viewscreen the Commodore began his speech.

"All Starfleet and Federation vessels, we are about to undertake a mission unlike any other in the Alpha Quadrant's history. The eyes of thousands of species are upon you today, the hopes and dreams of billions of souls depending upon your adherence to duty. I expect every sailor in my task force to be model Starfleet servicemembers, and to act in accordance with the Starfleet Creed. We represent the Federation, and we cannot let these people down. Captains, you will receive a coded transmission detailing your specific operational goals." The Commodore paused, "I wish you all the best of luck. Godspeed!"

The screen was replaced by the eternal starscape of deep space, displaying a region of space that had not been traveled by Starfleet since the days of the Earth-Romulan War. "I'll be in my ready room. Commander, you have the bridge." Strenn rose, and without doing the formal trade-off of the Watch with the Executive Officer, disappeared into his ready room as quickly as he had come onto the bridge.

I heard my country calling, away across the sea,
Across the waste of waters, she calls and calls to me.
Her sword is girded at her side, her helmet on her head,
And around her feet are lying the dying and the dead;
I hear the noise of battle, the thunder of the guns;
I haste to thee, my mother, a son among thy sons.


Presidential Mansion
Lake Victoria, African Region, Earth
Sol System, Sector 001


The halls of the Presidential Mansion rung with the thousand frantic calls of what had happened across the Neutral Zone, the President insisting on status updates every fifteen minutes. He summoned the Defense Minister, Foreign Minister, and the Chief of Starfleet Operations. All the communiques which filtered out of from the Neutral Zone confirmed the same thing.

Romulus was no more.

President James Aquilina, elected as a reformer who would move the Federation out from the shadow of the Dominion War, with all its chaos and strife, and into a new age of prosperity and peace, could only thing of one thing. How much it would affect him on the polls. A refugee crisis? Destabilization of the Quadrant? The end of the Congress of Bajor? That all meant he would be confirmed to a single, terrible term. History would forget him, lost in a sea of Presidents, nameless to all except a few studious bookworms.

He, his ministers, the CSO, and the Klingon Ambassador - brought to the Mansion by the CSO’s insistence - gathered in the war room at his mansion overlooking the grand Lake Victoria. The view, which commanded a stunning view of the Alexandra Nile as it flowed into the illustrious lake, was Aquilina’s favorite, and he wondered how much longer he would be able to enjoy this sight.

“We must send some kind of force into the Romulan Star Empire, or what remains of it, before it falls into total and complete anarchy. That will not be good for anyone, not us, not the Klingon Empire, and certainly not the Romulan people. A whole stretch of space, fallen to piracy and warlords! We cannot allow that!” Grand Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, Chief of Starfleet Operations, declared. It had been eight years since the event on the Enterprise-E, deep in Romulan space, brought him from the captain’s chair to an admiral’s desk, “Ambassador Torak, surely the Klingon Empire agrees?”

“The Klingon Empire must not have chaos on her borders! If the Federation is willing to enforce order, then we likewise will send our own force into Romulan space,” Torak concurred with Picard’s view, even if they had a different outlook on what that intervention force would be doing, “Is Starfleet up to the challenge, Picard? To fight these Romulan petaQs as they are pushed against a wall? Is today a good day to die?”

“Ambassador, if the Federation does get involved, it will be for humanitarian aid and peacekeeping only,” Foreign Minister Ramadhani Shamasdin spoke up, after deliberating his words carefully, “the Federation will not take part in a campaign of retribution and conquest of what remains of the Romulan Empire.”

Ambassador Torak simply scoffed and sipped at his glass of water, turning his gaze towards the Lake and refusing to answer. Picard looked over and, seeing the President looking disinterestedly in the same direction, began to speak towards him, “Mr. President, I must ask you to forget your notions of retaining power. Right now, it is the time to act, a time to step up to what your office stands for. You represent the United Federation of Planets, the greatest force for good the Galaxy has ever seen, and you must not allow billions of lifeforms to be swept into civil war and chaos.”

“Admiral Picard, if I may interject….” Defense Minister Thuzok Rossah butted in, “I don’t believe we have the resources to commit to another full-scale conflict, which this will surely spiral into. Who knows what’s beyond Romulan space! Or what’s in it, for that matter! They’ve never let us know the true number of client races within their Empire. We have no reason to do anything except increase security along the Neutral Zone.”

“And if we do that, Mr. Rossah, we’ll only be delaying the inevitable flood of refugees. It will be like the Hunnic hordes storming across the Rhine and into Rome. Do you wish to be the one who causes that, Defense Minister?” Picard looked from the Defense Minister and turned his gaze towards the President, “Or you, Mr. President? If not, you must act decisively and you must act now.”

“Alright, Jean-Luc…” Aquilina murmured, after spending what seemed like an eternity in silent thought, “You always are a bully when it comes to getting what you want, but you always have a point…” He chuckled dryly, “you’ll get your task force, Picard. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me…” Aquilina gestured to his two ministers, “we have a press conference to prepare for. FBN is going to tear us to shreds…”

As the President and his ministers left, Picard walked over towards the large panoramic windows, admiring the still relatively untouched beauty of Africa. A flock of white-bellied storks flew in the distance, gliding over the waters of Lake Victoria, “Admiral Picard, you have great honor. Your reputation is well-known throughout the Empire,” Torak spoke from behind Picard, still nursing his glass of water, “it is a privilege to meet you.”

“As you, Ambassador,” Picard nodded, turning around to face the Klingon, “your fleet action at Ioya V during the War was astounding. I remember reading the after-action reports and…”

“Enough of my track record, Admiral,” Torak smiled, cutting off Picard with a wave of his hand, “We have a problem, that only men who have tasted combat will ever see…” He had Picard’s attention, “The Romulan space must be absorbed into our states. There is no other option. It is a simple fact, that no one wants to come out and say! Oh, how you Federation types love your word games. Whatever we do, peacekeeping and securing space, just delays when we must face up to that fact.”

“They will be admitted into the Federation if they so choose, Ambassador…” Picard spoke, but he knew the Klingon spoke wisdom.

“As your War Advisor pointed out, there is much out there that we do not know of.” Torak paused, and then turned his gaze towards the lake, “This view reminds me of my home. Except there, it is much more beautiful.”
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