Sim Related Character Story/Background

[Cmdr Dominique Fleury]

The sun was a disk of molten gold from which there was no escape. There was no vegetation and dust clouds raised by the thousands in attendance, choked off what little respite the slight breeze provided. Solan slipped his father's hand and crawled through the sea of legs in front of him, ignoring the threats that he'd be beaten if he didn't come back. He'd be beaten if he did too, he thought, so at least he would see what he could before then. He avoided a kick from a woman wearing thick heeled boots and finally stood up just inside the roped off area of the main arena. His eyes widened and he grinned the gap toothed smile of a five year old being offered a special treat.

In the center of the arena were three Klingons. They had been ordered to fight one another to the death. They had refused, not unexpectedly, and stood steadfastly with arms crossed. Solan joined in with the rest of the crowd in shouting jeers at them. Finally, Emperor Bashir stood and held his hand up for silence. It was several long minutes before the crowd at last quieted. "Since these wretched specimens have refused to fight for our entertainment, nonetheless we will be gracious enough to help them find their way to StoVoKor." The crowd erupted in cheers. Bashir picked up a large stone and threw it whereupon others in the crowd who had been provided with stones, began to throw them also. It was hardly fair. The Klingons looked as if they'd been already been starved and beaten and were shackled. They stood and growled like animals but it took little time for them to succumb.

Solan shaded his eyes with a hand trying to see up into the Emperor's pavilion. Figures moved about in the shadows cast by the huge awning. Plates of food and glasses of wine were served. He caught the scent of roasting meat and his stomach rumbled. He almost never had enough to eat and his clothes, while not rags, never fit him, being either too large or too small. But he was not exceptional, most of the other children he knew were the same. He remembered his Mother being excited about the promises the Emperor had made of prosperity. "It will be better soon." she'd say and squeeze his hand reassuringly. "And we'll all have everything we could ever want or need." She'd died shortly thereafter. Complications of childbirth. They'd called for a doctor, but none would come. They didn't have the money to pay the extravagant fee the doctors demanded for treatment. Solan's Mother and his unborn sister had died of blood loss.

High above it all, the Emperor laughed, ate and held absolute power of life and death. Solan didn't hate him for it. He wanted to be him. Someday, he promised himself, he would have everything.

[Sinopa Pallaton]

He wasn't born on Earth like most of the ship mates. He was a human but not of Terra Prime. Kirk come to his world, and with him knowledge of Terra Prime, and the ancestry shared. He learned all the stories about the great Captain, who suddenly walked among the tribe. He grew up fascinated by the man and the world that built ships to roam the stars, with knowledge of things only dreamed of.

He decided to go the world where such great men were born and lived. And where such machines were built. When he reached the time of manhood he worked to earn his way to find Terra Prime. The Elders were upset and tried to keep him there, but then relented as they saw the protest only made his heart and mind stronger and more determined to find this world.

He learned the ways of his people and excelled at hunting, his first kill was a fox and that was how he was named Sinopo meaning fox. It was to remind him that the spirit of the fox walked with him and he gained in the knowledge of that animal.

Before he left he went to the sweat hut and spent a day inside cleansing his spirit and mind. While there he had a vision and in it he saw a strange world but is was like here. He saw people like him living in a community apart from those like Kirk. This puzzled him greatly and only set his mind and heart firmly on the path that led him to this ship.

After arriving on Terra Prime, did he learn the Preservers where more then myth. He went to the reservations looking for his family. After 3 years he found them or what was believe to be them. They had a story of 20 members of the tribe being stolen in the night by a thief. It all fit, even the tongue they spoke in was so similar to the one he learned as a child.

He attended school at the urging of his distant Uncle and learned the knowledge that was needed. He learned quickly a trademark of the fox? He went to their college on the Reservation and learn psychology.

And now after a night of drinking he found himself in the Imperial Star Fleet. Sinopea what a foolish thing to do.

[Cmdr Dominique Fleury]

Solan leaned over, his hands braced on his knees while he tried to catch his breath and control the dry heaves that dehydration caused. It wasn't an Academy record, not even close, but it was good enough to qualify him on his entrance requirements. Solan was 15, not quite old enough to be admitted, but by the time he was, he would have completed all his pre-qualification exams. You couldn't just walk into the Imperial Academy. There were physical, psychological, and intellectual tests and screenings and you had to provide a recommendation from a family friend or relative of either military or political standing.

Solan had only been five when the Academy opened and like any other five year old he had been awestruck by the imposing buildings, constant shuttle traffic and the cocksure Midshipmen who, when granted leave, sometimes took over the local towns and left their family's with a considerable bill for the damage done. When he'd been eight, he'd joined a group of local children on a tour of the Imperial Flagship, Defiant. Though it was advertised as a tour, it was intended more as a recruiting platform. Something in Solan came awake that day and from thereafter grew from attraction to obsession. While other children played at being the Captain of a starship, Solan would step in and take command of the group, reordering and assigning officers while promptly putting down anyone else who wanted time in the center seat. In time, the play shifted to study. Schematics, warp theory, navigation, listing all the allied planets and races and those who had yet to be conquered.

Solan had been home schooled until he'd been ten and the first school had been built in his section of the city. Once enrolled, he'd made up for lost time by devouring the information provided to him. Every year, staff officers from the Academy would come and pass out applications to those who were about to graduate. Extra applications had been left on a table and Solan had taken one. It had become his personal bible and now everything he did was directed toward a single goal, to become an Imperial officer.

[Major Kaylee Garrett]

You can read my bio here.stunitedforces.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=Bio&thread=2306

[Cmdr Dominique Fleury]

Commandant Christienne took her place at the podium. Some of the new midshipmen present, excited by there own sense of accomplishment and by being at a dress event for the first time, spoke in hushed whispers. She waited in silence until every last voice had quieted.

" I'm pleased to have been able to be here for this special observance in celebration of the tenth anniversary of the founding of this Academy. She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Ten years of Imperial growth and prosperity under Emperor Blackledge has allowed this institution to profit and to graduate some of the best and most elite officers in the Imperial Fleet. I want to officially acknowledge my predecessor, Admiral Johnathan Ludlum for having overseen this institution's growth through it's fledgling years and who's leadership made it prosperous."


Midshipman Solan Sloan, now fifteen, was in his first year at the Academy. He'd had no friends or relatives to make generous contributions for building new wings or purchasing state of the art equipment. There was no one in the circle of Imperial Advisors who counseled Blackledge who might have been able to smooth the way for him via political connections. He had made it here on his own merit. Sloan smiled then winced. His jaw was healing well after the last fight he'd been in but he refused to take anything for the pain. Three second years had bribed their way into his dormitory with the intent of 'welcoming' him by beating him senseless. After that he'd be told to do whatever they wanted him to, unless he wanted another beating. What they didn't know was that Sloan had already paid the dorm guard well to alert him in the event of such a raid. Between the two of them, the second years were kicked back into the corridor, with more than a few injuries of their own and swearing that from now on they would make Sloan's life a living hell, but the leader who had already been placed on probation, had been discharged, and the two others, apparently thinking better of it, had not tried again.

"I am pleased therefore, to have been able to step in and fill the vacancy left by the admiral's unexpected quietus and will do everything in my power to ensure that the groundwork he had so painstakingly laid here is built upon and reaches the loftiest heights of our Empire's ambitions." Smiling again, she waited for the spontaneous applause to die down. She scanned the faces of all the attendees, considering the future of each. How many would live? How many would die? Was there a future Emperor or Empress among them? She stood stiffly, expectantly then ended her brief speech with the standard proclamation of "Long live the Terran Empire!" Then. "Dismissed!" In unison they repeated her declaration, the walls of the hall echoing it back. Christienne watched for a few moments longer as the group began to file out.

Sloan lingered after the others and studied Christienne. Emperor Blackledge had named one of the Academy's wings after her. She had served as his executive officer when he was captain of the Defiant and when Bashir had been deposed, she had been given command of the flagship. After ten years, she had chosen to resign and had been offered the position of Academy Commandant. Though she was small in stature, there was a hardness about her Sloan decided would have made up for any lack of physical strength. At just that moment, Christienne looked directly at him. He suddenly felt self-conscious, like a child caught looking at something he shouldn't be. Then she turned away and left the stage. From the back of the auditorium was a shout. "Sloan! Move your ass!" He did, double timing until he'd caught up with the rest of his class.

[Cmdr Dominique Fleury]

Sloan slipped noiselessly around the corner and into the adjoining corridor. He held his dagger in his left hand while his right rested on the handle of the disruptor he carried, strapped low on his right thigh, where it could be drawn quickly. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead that threatened to run into his eyes and blur his vision. The air in the corridor was still as a tomb's but he could still hear the sound of the Captain's footsteps, with their confident heel beat, echoing down the hall. Captain Brannigan had ordered his personal guard away on some errand, Sloan couldn't hear what it had been but now the CO was alone, the perfect time to close the gap and make the kill.

This area of the ship was nearly empty now but that could change anytime, Sloan knew. He ran again, the soft soled boots he had on almost silent, not regulation but not specifically forbidden either. He caught a glimpse of the Captain's back. He momentarily shifted the dagger to his other hand and wiped the sweat from his palm, then brought the blade back. One well placed throw and it would be over. He stopped and brought the dagger up.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Just barely visible in his peripheral, another crewmember was stalking him from the side corridor he'd just passed. Instead of a dagger however, he had a Federation type phaser aimed at Sloan's head. There was only time for one move. Either kill Brannigan or save himself. Sloan didn't believe in no win scenarios. If you couldn't find a way to win, you weren't working hard enough. If he killed the other man, he could claim that it was that crewmember who had been aiming his weapon at the Captain and he had saved him. At least that would buy him time and perhaps another opportunity.

Sloan threw the dagger which lodged itself firmly in the man's throat. He clutched at it and succeeded in removing it which only caused the wound to bleed more freely. He sank to his knees, his eyes no longer focused, gasping for a breath he could never draw with a severed trachea.

Captain Brannigan turned, his own disruptor in hand at the sound of the engagement. His eyes narrowed as he took in the scene. Sloan smiled. His story of how he had just saved the Captain's life already forming in his head. Brannigan fired. Sloan clasped his midsection in anticipation of the rupture. He looked up in surprise. What had gone wrong? Brannigan slowly reholstered the weapon.

"You think I don't know what you were planning? Consider this a more merciful punishment than the regulations allow."

The words rang in Sloan's ears as suddenly the lights brightened. He blinked. "Dismissed. Next candidate," He heard. "The results of your test will be posted within one week. "Any Midshipman who discusses this scenario with any other candidate will be discharged.", the disembodied voice reminded Sloan as he exited the simulator. Red-faced, Sloan didn't want to discuss it with anyone. Somehow, after all his preparations, he'd failed. But had he? He would have been killed either way. What did that prove about him? Sloan noticed others with the same sullen expression. They weren't talking either.

[Captain Morris Blackledge]

Josh had taken runs in the hot Egyptian desert since the age of ten. He wished he had taken the run more seriously. They were off planet on a moon that didn’t even have a name, and he was different. Shot stringy legs had given way to his sender muscular frame. He stood taller than his father now, and according to his mother had inherited his determination. She called it a stubborn streak, but Josh preferred determination. He had gone into Imperial service against the wishes of his father. The trade off was that he would do so on his own. There were several surgeries given to change the look of one of the worlds most recognizable civilians so that he could become an unrecognizable soldier. He furthered the insult by joining the Imperial Marine Corps. His mother told him to hold back the last part till the die was cast or he would have been denied. The Emperor did researve one last bit of revenge. was to have Josh would take the name ‘Mike Robilard’, saying he was his best example of an officer. He didn’t know what it meant but his mother gave his father a sneer at the comment. No matter, he was now a marine and no different than his other corp brothers and he loved everyone minute of this time. It was challenging, and gave him the sense of purpose he hoped it would.
This was his graduation drill. It had been nicknamed ‘The song of fire and ice’. Created by General Shran himself and there were very little modifications. You were dropped in the mountain region where the cold rivaled even Andor, and as you moved further and further you got to this region. As Josh walked with a steady pace and controlled breathing he began to think about his decisions. He didn’t know why he decided to serve but he could remember when.

Twelve years earlier:

“Joshua!” He could hear his mother’s voice resonate from the palace intercom. He knew where his mother was without the official summons, and why he had been called. His brother Malik had been a constant source of frustration to him, always underfoot and never understanding of the intrigues that Josh loved. Malik had been a particularly boorish today so Josh decided to tell him to follow what he had told him was a ‘spy drone’. It was in reality one of the palace gardening drones. With the substantial size of the palace garden he was sure that Malik had gone to the edge of the palace containment. It would have been fine as long as he didn’t go all the way to the perimeter and set off the proximity alerts, which it seems he did. He had made his way to his mother’s favorite place; the palace central control room. As his father ran the known universe his mother ran the palace. She likes to have a hand in security and it helped her keep an eye on her sons. He entered the room hoping he would not get a ‘dressing down’ in front of the staff. She gave him a look that would put the fear of the Gods in most of the Emperor’s men and did, but it was nothing compared to having to face his father. “I can’t stress the amount of danger you put your brother in, “She scolded. “You forget that you are not ordinary kids. Your father has enemies that would kill you both just to make a point.”
Josh tried to feign remorse, but he could not get out of his mind how ridiculous the whole thing was. Part of him also felt Malik had done it on purpose. Once he figured out he had been duped he probably did it as revenge. “Nothing I’m saying is getting through to you is it?” She said in a frustrated tone. It snapped him out of his trance. “Now you get to explain it to you father. He has already asked to see you.”

This was a mixed moment. Being called before his father was a point of contention. He is busiest man in the universe, but he always made some time for his children. Depending upon whether they had done something very good or very bad. Though most see him on his throne, Josh saw him where he was most of the other time. In an officer going over paper works and intrigues. “You know Malik, has a hard time keeping up with you.” He said without turning his head. “You could slow down a little and let your brother win once in a while.”

“While we do not consider ourselves indestructible, by and far we are strong. He said after he cleared his throat. “We should not consider the weak in our endeavors as they are the water that rusts the gears. We should instead force them to their strength and consider that strength in comparison to our own or drive them under our heels taking what is useful before our enemies can get there first: Emperor Blackledge to the Senate assembly.” He didn’t know if he would get a smack for that, but it was the only thing he could think of since it was today’s lesson.

“Been paying attention to your lessons I see” His father gave him a conspiratorial smile. “You know that I said that so I know the merit of the words. Which is why you are not recovering from a bout with a ‘pain stick’; you will spend a week on restriction, no outer palace privileges and you are confined to the East wing. One other thing, strength without discipline just makes you a thug. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”
“Father,” he turned before he left the room. “Can I ask why I should let Malik win? Why should the weak aid the strong?”

“You’ve made a classic mistake.” Blackledge said with a knowing grin.” You have underestimated your opponent. You think because Malik is younger he has not learned to pay attention. I’ve reviewed the recordings of his trip to the perimeter and he seemed a little ‘too’ dumbfounded. Malik watches you, you know. He studies you. I’m not sure if it’s ‘hero worship’ or if he is sizing you up but you are his favorite subject. You would do well to do a little studying of your own. Besides, if you let him win every once and again it reminds him that it’s just a game. If you don’t then you are creating a rival before you know what they are capable of.”
“You have given me much to consider.” Josh answered.

Josh ran out as fast as his legs could carry him. That’s when he decided unbeknownst to his father that he would join the military. He could feel himself getting tired and thirsty. His water reserves were running low, and he had put snow in extra containers. They were even getting low. He needed a source of water, but it was getting dark. He had been told that not only did the temperature drop, but there were some very dangerous creatures that came out at night.

To be continued.