Steel Accord

Private "The absence of war" (1x1 w/Denim)

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(edited)

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far, away . . .

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From beyond the veil they came, with technology wondrous and ways strange. At the height of the Clone Wars, Star Fleet allied itself with the Separatists. Their case aided by the sudden disappearance of Count Dooku and the continued mystery of his master. Now the Republic and their Jedi allies are locked in a political stalemate with the newly equipped and emboldened Separatists, who are in turn being kept in check by their patrons.

On a planet far from the front lines, a lone Jedi and his companions are investigating rumors of foul activity which could pose a threat to both the Republic and the Federation.

The shuttle dropped out of hyperspace in orbit around the planet Noreg. It touched down in a small canyon, the dark rocks giving way to towering trees larger than some buildings. Out stepped an eclectic assortment of investigators. A young pantoran woman with a rile almost as big as she is slung on her back, a scarred up gungan warrior carrying a metal pike but with a carbine holstered as well, a young cerean man in a brown robe, all lead by a mirialan man also in a brown robe. The leader of party lowered his hood, his padawan following suit.

"Yousa thinking there's trouble, Boss?" The gungan asked. He was holding his pike in both hands and scanning the area. 

"That's what the Council thinks. Calm yourself Creel. Be ready when there's cause to be."

"How do you know there isn't master?" Asked the young cerean boy with his hair in a braid. He looked around, at the beauty of the canyon and the towering trees.

"Do you hear the animals? The birds?"

"I do master."

"Exactly. All is at peace. For now at least, we're in no danger."

"That's relieving to hear." Said the Pantoran.

"Everything will be all right Phi. We're only here to investigate for now. Still, it would be prudent to keep your weapon ready. Let's move out." The party started away rom the ship.

Edited by Steel Accord
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Acting Captains log. Stardate 53565.0007

Today is the one year anniversary of the Federation's victory against the Dominion. Yet the scars of that battle are still fresh. It took them a while but Star fleet has finally recalled all it's officers partaking in the cultural exchange programs. What was supposed to be a month or two on board a Klingon vessel ended up being three years. A girl can climb up the ranks surprisingly fast around here, especially if those ranks are being slaughtered en masse. I survived long enough to make the jumps from Lieutenant to fleet captain. Rare is praise from the high council on an outsiders exploits in the empire. Then again hurling both your lieutenant and your captain through the nearest bulkhead will command respect in any organization.  Everyone serving aboard the I.K.S. SaD DIS cha'par thought we would suffer a glorious death against those Jem Hadar heavy cruisers. The looks on their faces when I managed to edge out a glorious victory with that rust bucket D7 cruiser of theirs. 

Rust bucket D7. Those things were some of the most fearsome ships any hapless federation vessel could come across. Now they're relics of a by gone era. Vestiges of a decaying empire, desperately marching forward the only way they know how. By war. Now the mighty Klingon empire maybe crippled beyond repair. Their apex come and gone. To think, less than a decade ago for me, peace talks with the belligerent Klingons were but rumors. Fast forward that decade for me and nearly a century for everyone else, and now federation and Klingon are fighting shoulder to shoulder. I fought against them, with them, against them some more, sparred with them, dined with them, celebrated and mourned with them. They haven't changed much from when I last encountered them. Maybe that's part of the reason I relate to them better than I do the Star Fleet of the 24th century. The Empire has never compromised in it's virtues. It's never apologized for what it was. The Klingon Empire is as honest as it is brutal. But the federation? Oh how things have changed. 

Many good officers died in the war. I don't know what my place will be. We are rendezvousing with U.S.S. Agamemnon, a Soyuz class just like the Boseman, brought out of moth balls because of how gutted the fleets are. I imagine they'll be needing me on board due to my familiarity with the systems of the time. However, I received a coded transmission from Star Fleet informing me that the rendezvous has changed. We will be meeting the Agamemnon at the planet Noreg, located on the fringes of the neutral zone between the alpha quadrant, and the anomaly that separates us from the region of the cosmos inhabited by the Galactic Republic and the Confederation of Independent systems. No details as to the reason for the diversion.

Not even on a federation ship and I'm already being given my marching orders. 

I'm still not wearing that stupid uniform. 

- Fleet Captain Regina Wicklow 

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The four were scouting deeper into the dense forest when they came to a creek. Phi lost her footing but Ko-Sovo, the padawan reached out to catch her.

“Thanks Ko.” She said, not breaking the hold even after she got her footing.

“S-sure.” The Palawan said with a grin. Immanuel shot the both of them a knowing smirk and they broke it up. Phi rushing ahead to join Creel.

“You know I wasn’t quite sure about Phi joining the Rangers. I’m glad to say she’s brought me around,” Immanuel said.

“Yes. She’s a good ally to have,” Ko-Sovo said. Immanuel shook his head. His padawan’s feelings were quite obvious. Not a conversation to have at the moment though.

“Boss?” Creel called ahead. They jogged up to join him and Phi. “The treesah. They be turnin’ their faces best they can.” He pointed to the titanic trees and sure enough, some of them were almost bald on one side. Almost like they were turning away from something.

“What could cause this?” Ko-Sovo asked.

“I bet it’s some Star Fleet experiment!” Phi said.

“If it is, I’d be relieved. I’m not certain though.” Immanuel said as he looked at the bizarre manifestation of nature. “Still, at least we now have a direction. Look to where the trees aren’t.” The Antarian Rangers and their Jedi then proceeded to follow their new heading.

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