USS Champlain Post of the Month

This page is for the Champlain's Post of the Month, as nominated and voted for by the Champlain crew

October 2007

Mission: Do Not Go Gentle

Day 2

Stardate: 2407.07.04

(USS Champlain, Holodeck 2 – CONN - Lt. Dralar--- 2030)

Dralar stood in the antechamber of the holodeck with Moto. He had just activated the program for the ritual that Sam had graciously loaded for him.

The human officer was well dressed and Dralar was wearing his full regalia as was befitting a Skorr of his stature.

The uniform was a rich orange and gold and was made of a fabric the allowed the light to cause the colors to appear to shimmer as it reacted with the fabric. The symbolism of the colors was that of Sunset. The ending of the day just as there could be a potential ending to Dralar's life in the coming days of the battle.

He wore his princely Brocade that clearly announced his heritage to the trained eye. His badges of office and right of lineage were pinned to his breast for all to see. His foot talons were tipped with Golden caps, a ceremonial version of the claw blades that his people still wore into battle. Rich elaborate ribbons made of the same material as his formal attire wrapped around his lower legs below the feather line.

His royal feather crown had been coated with a light dusting of gold and orange fleck. The only special indicator of his lineage. Even if he were complete stripped of all other affairs of state, his head feathers would immediately identify him as a member of the royal lineage. It was a genetic disposition that only the members of his bloodline carried. It had been that way for millennia and dated back to the time of Alar the greatest member of their people. He was first High King and savior of the Skorr species. It was his collected wisdom as well as that of every member of the Royal lineage that resided inside the Soul of Skorr. It in turn was accessible only to the High King of Skorria. In this manner all experiences and knowledge could be saved and reviewed as needed for Generations to come.

That was why he was here. To ensure that his memories would not be lost.

It had been explained to him as a child that the Soul of Skorr was an extra-dimensional object that was attuned to his particular lineage. As such distance was irrelevant to it. Any Skorr attuned to the artifact could deposit their memories into the device once they had achieved the necessary state, although only the high King could retrieve any memories so stored there.

Only the High King knew the origins of the device, since only he could see the wisdom and memories of Alar; the first Skorr to use the device. There were speculations of course. They ranged from being an alien artifact found by Alar to a gift from the Ancient gods of the Skorr people. In any case, the artifact was said to protect the collected knowledge of the royal lineage and also to protect the Skorr People. How exactly that would be done was unknown, but it was believed beyond all other things. It truly was the Soul of all that their people were.

Dralar had never seen the actual artifact, he had only seen replicas. These were on display across the Skorr Empire. The actual artifact was such a valued item that only the High King and a handful of attendant priests knew of it's location. Even Dralar, a member of the royal line would never know where the Soul was kept unless, by some twist of fate, he became the High King.

He turned to Same Moto, the man whose consideration made this possible.

"Mister Moto. I wish to convey to you my appreciation for your help in making this possible. I also wish to remind you that this ritual is very ancient and very personal to my people. I apologize now if you see anything that you find uncomfortable once we begin. I ask only that you watch with opened eyes and a clear mind. I remind you that in all the millennium that this ritual has been performed only a handful of non-Skorr have ever witnessed it. I ask that you use discretion should you choose to speak of it to anyone not of my people."

(reply Moto)

Dralar bobbed his head in a sort of nodding motion.

"Let us begin."

Dralar turned and pressed the button that opened the doors to the interior of the holodeck after locking the outer doors. There would be no disturbances as he had insisted that both he and Moto not wear their commbadges inside. The first officer had reluctantly agreed.

Dralar stepped inside followed closely by Moto. The doors hissed closed behind them.

The scene was one of the most sacred places in Skorr Culture; the great Temple of the Sky at Mozna Amar.

The temple itself is situated atop a great mountain top that had been leveled in ancient times. The mountain is known as Kelja or "The place where the world meets the Sky" In the later days of Alar, the Skorr people removed and flattened the last 300 meters of the stone mountain top. On that plateau the ancient temple had been built.

The structures were made entirely of the stone taken from the top of the mountain. Each hand carved over the millennia by master craftsmen.

The busts of the descendants of Alar, all High Kings throughout the ages lined a broad avenue flanked by stone pillars decorated with gold leaf and intricately etched into beautiful abstract patterns.

At the end of the long avenue of colonnades was the temple building. An Acropolis like structure ringed with more columns reminiscent of those found on earth during the Greco-Roman period. Large lintel pieces spanned the columns and their carvings were enhanced with precious metals and jewels. They represented the life of Alar, the single most important figure in Skorr history. It was his wisdom that united the once warring clans of the Skorr people into a single purpose. It was his legacy that turned the Skorr into a star faring people. It was his desire and teachings that allowed them to reach out to other species with peace and understanding without sacrificing their strong martial traditions.

Dralar strode up the long avenue facing each of the 600 Skorr High Kings, his ancestors and reciting their names in turn. Once that was finished, he strode up the wide steps, purposely designed to be uncomfortable to Skorr physiology. He climbed them slowly and with difficulty. He understood well enough that he was not permitted to use his wings to aid him. These were the only steps found anywhere on the planet and they were here to remind the royal family of humility.

Once he had defeated the steps he moved into the broad open area of the temple where a group of priest stood waiting for him. Dralar indicated with an out stretched hand where Sam was to wait as he observed, so that the human could see well, but not interfere in the ritual to come.

A replica of the Soul of Skorr rested in the outstretched hands of the Statue of Alar. A representation of his gift to the Skorr people. The Soul itself was a knot of unique materials that as far as Dralar knew had never been identified. The material in some manner bent time and space and dimensions. It was such an amazing thing that even to this day, no Skorr Scientist or priest understood how it worked. They only knew that it did.

"Halt, Skorr Prince." The voice of the high priest commanded, and Dralar stopped were he was.

"Since the times of the ancients, Alar has given us his wisdom. Why do you now come to this, our most sacred place?"

"I come to impart my experience to the Soul of Skorr, that all those of my lineage shall know of my deeds and my experiences. I come to deposit my Ahk'kan so that in the coming days my contribution to my people shall not be lost." he replied.

The priest regarded him down the length of his long jagged beak.

"What do you have to contribute that shall be stored for all time, prince of Skorria. I have intimate knowledge of our Allies, great priest. I have seen things that shows that there are those among the stars that we should count among our friends. I wish to share their struggle so that the people of Skorria shall understand their plight and our role in the galaxy. I serve the blood of Alar and I serve the Skorr people. I seek no glory nor self aggrandizement. I seek only to impart my experiences so that our people do not lose them for all eternity as was the way before the time of Alar. Should you deem that I am deceitful in this, may you shatter my wings and throw me from this high place so that my spirit will forever walk the world unable to ride the winds for all eternity."

"You must show that your desire is pure." the priest replied. "You shall now partake of the misact essence and prove that your heritage is true."

Dralar nodded.

A second group of priests came forward bearing a gold box. In it was a vial of poison. This was the only aspect of the ritual that was not replicated. It was the actual elixir that his people used in this very ritual.

Dralar knew from experience that the poison was painful, as it would attack the pain receptors throughout his body. He also knew that the same genetic disposition that made him a prince of Skorria would not allow the poison to kill him. It would be excruciating, but he would not die.

This part of the ritual was designed to ensure that no imposter could ever influence the Soul of Skorr for personal gain.

The golden box was opened and a junior priest removed the crystal vial from the container.

He held it out to Dralar. A second junior priest removed the cut crystal stopper.

Dralar reached out and took the bottle in his right hand.

"Recite the words." The high priest ordered.

I am Dralar 45th Prince of Skorria, Keeper of the Great Sky Key of Harridan. I trace my lineage back through the ages calling all of my ancestors to recognize my worth. I descend from the blood of Alar and declare my heritage pure. Should I be deceitful, may the poison of the misact claim my pathetic life and may my name be forever stricken from the history of the Skorr peoples and all my descendants made outcasts for all time."

"You may prove your worth, Dralar, 45th Prince of Skorria for all to bear witness here." The priest intoned.

Dralar turned up the small crystal bottle, empting his contents down his gullet. As expected the pain started immediately as the poison went to work.

It began as a knotting and cramping of muscles deep in his body The pain and convulsions followed soon after and his feathers shook with spasms as the muscles at the base of the feathers began to spasm. Dralar doubled over as a cry of pure agony escaped from his beak. He lost his balance and pitched forward. The priests did not move to aid him. He rested on his hands and knees as the poison coursed through his body, sending wave after wave of unimaginable pain through him.

His body reacted. Glands in his body began pouring a hormone unique to his bloodline into his body before the poison could stop his heart or make it impossible to breath.

Slowly the pain and spasms receded. After a short time, Dralar pulled himself back to his feet. He straightened his formal attire and held his head high.

"I have shown my lineage to be true and pure. I claim as my right the ritual of the Ahk'kan transfer, that my contribution to my people not be lost or forgotten. I call on you now priest and keepers of the Soul of Skorria to grant me my blood right."

The priest looked down at Dralar.

"Come great prince and give your contribution to the greatness of your people. Your knowledge shall become one with the Soul of Skorr that you shall never be forgotten and your knowledge shall be always there to guide the High King in his stewardship of the Skorr race."

Dralar moved forward to the stand before the outstretched hands of the statue of Alar.

The three attendant priests moved forward surrounding him. The eldest priest spoke directly to the statue of Alar.

"Our great ancestor, most beloved and celebrated of our peoples. I present before you Dralar, of your lineage. The 45th Prince of Skorria and Keeper of the Great Sky Key of Harridan. He claims the blood right of the Ahk'kan transfer, that his contributions may be used for the benevolence of the Skorr people and that his experiences not be forgotten."

"Alar, grant his request," all three Priests repeated simultaneously.

Dralar's body suddenly went rigid as he felt the presence of the Soul of Skorr come over him. He had experienced it before and still found it an amazing experience. He was in a state of sublime ecstasy as Soul overcame him. He knew that his entire life was being recorded, and that the process of recording would continue for several standard weeks, or until he died whichever came first. Only at this very moment, when the soul accessed his entire history would he be aware of it. Later as the days progressed, he would instinctively know it was being recorded, but he would be unable to detect the presence of the process.

It would not be until later, when the affects of the connection finally ended that Dralar would be consciously aware that the process had stopped.

Dralar could never tell how long the process of the transfer spanned, he only guessed that it was minutes before he felt the ecstasy subside.

"It is done, Dralar, Prince of Skorria." The high priest chimed.

"Know that your actions now bear the scrutiny of your people, so that you may always act with honor, duty and in glory. May you fly high and true, great prince and may you always find favorable winds." he concluded.

"May the wings of Alar guide me in all things." Dralar replied.

The priests disappeared as he finished the lines to the ritual. Only Dralar and Moto remained. The temple program remained active.

Dralar turned to Sam Moto.

"Friend of Skorria. I greet you always in friendship and in honesty. Know always that you may find a friendly face among those in the Skorr Empire for your service to her people. We shall support you in your time of need always and grant you asylum should you have need of it."

(reply Moto) (posted by Daniel Greene)

September 2007

Mission: Crossroads

Day: 6

Stardate: 2407.04.07

(Starbase Geneva, Deck 14, Holodeck 1 - Champlain's Third Officer/Sec Chief, Lieutenant Jono Janeway - 0901)

After Jono had walked into the holodeck, the shock and the grief suddenly seemed to catch up with him. Finally after two - three weeks of keeping himself busy, not thinking about it, not talking about it... It was finally here, it finally needed to be confronted. His friend was dead. One of only people (he believed) that ever truly believed in him, and he had failed to even protect him when the time had come. Some officer he had become in the last couple of months.

It was only when people started trying to knock past him to get to their seats that he realised that he was stood still, looking at the ground... In the middle of the doorway. He felt detached in some way, he was here but his body wasn't, It was like he was watching himself from a great height as his body... his template moved slowly through the crowd of people - most of them he couldn't put names to, he supposed they were either part of the crew or someone who new Edward before his posting on the Nimitz... It didn't matter, as long as they were here to pay their respects to Edward.

He watched himself continue to dawdle forward, no real meaning on where he was heading. To the front he supposed, or near by, he didn't want to be far away from the main ceremony, it was his duty... his last duty he would ever perform for Captain Wolfe, to make sure his life was remembered by everyone there.

He felt physically sick, as he approached the front, he looked up to see a picture of Edward at the front, accompanied by his sword and the medal Bree had received in the name of him. He turned away violently from the picture, his soul seemed to reconnect with his body for a brief moment when he decided on where he was to sit. But as he began moving again, the world slipped away from him and his soul flew from his body and began thinking of the time when Edward died, The explosion... Smithwick... Mor'rel... What would he do?

His memory quickly jumped to the small service he and Bree had held on the Champlain before they set back for Geneva, how he had managed to say a few words before Edward's body had been released into the atmospheric pull of the sun. The lonley tear that he had shed on that singular day as the capsule left the ship, the feelings of emptyness and sorrow... He didn't want to have to feel that again, yet he found himself being pulled to the ceremony, ~One last goodbye~ He had told himself, he had no speach prepared... though he knew he wanted to say something.

As his body sat down on the front row, far to the right he could see through his eyes the picture of Edward Wolfe, smiling... that smile Jono knew so well, but hadnt seen in the mans last couple of days alive... Something had been wrong with Edward and apart from the fact that Jono felt guilty about not being able to protect his friend.. his captain, he felt guilty as a friend... He should have been able to be there for the Wolfe, maybe he could have done something to help... But it was all 'maybes' or 'could have beens' he didn't realise one person could have this many regrets over a singular event.

His head nodded down to look at his feet, he shuffled about in his chair and pushed the sickness away, he had to be strong ~But why?~ he asked himself, ~Where has being 'strong' got me so far?~ he sighed the aching feeling in the pit of his stomach slowly rising again ~Why did he have to die?~ His mouth half hung open and his eyes not quite focusing on anything he couldn't answer that one question.

"Why?" He whispered to himself and brought his head to an upright position, and then turned it slightly so his eyes met those eyes of Edward's picture. He blinked. A split second later a pearly coloured essence appeared from the picture, it was Edward smiling that smile, he nodded to Jono and mock saluted him and then as quickly as it appeared the essence quickly transformed into a great wolf and then disappeared walking through the crowd.

"Edward?" Jono whispered to himself. His eyes fixated on the spot the wolf disappeared, his whole body was on edge, his hairs were sitting proudly up on his arm and goose pimples had appeared, suddenly he was very cold and very aware of his loneliness. He shook violently and then he reconnected. Back in the land of the living everything went quiet as the ceremony begun.

(Reply whoever is starting the ceremony)

(Posted by Jono Bradley)