SIMULATION HISTORY
2364 | 2367 | 2375 | 2378 | 2378b
Commander Jorel Calhoun, formerly of the Starship U.S.S. Freeman, looked out the shuttlecraft's window at the dusty red tinged planet beneath him. His eyes glided over the planet and towards the shipyards in orbit that held dozens of Starfleet vessels in various states of construction. He couldn't help but smile as he saw a newly constructed Akira class vessel leave its shipyard berth and head out of the system. Jorel felt like a cadet again. It was his first time back in the Sol System since his Academy days. He found himself staring intently at the Utopia Planitia shipyards just as he had when he first came to the Academy sixteen years ago. Having been recruited for Starfleet Intelligence right out of the Academy, Jorel had spent most of his career outside or on the fringes of Federation space, most recently during his ten years of service aboard the U.S.S. Freeman. Today all that wandering around the galaxy would end. His resignation from Starfleet was accepted by Captain Roan Dillinger three days ago and he was on his way to meet with an attaché from Admiral Akaar's office at McKinley Station for his final debrief. Jorel had decided to leave Starfleet and join in the rebuilding efforts of Betazed. The Dominion war was devastating and the strife that followed, such as the Gateways incident, and the war against the Selelvian/Tholian Alliance only helped to destabilize the Federation further. Jorel had always resented the fact that he was unable to fight in the conflict against the Dominion. They had devastated and occupied his homeworld and Jorel could do nothing as his ship was marked as a reserve vessel and was ordered to continue its mission of exploration. He felt that taking part in the restoration of Betazed would be far more fulfilling than a continued career in Starfleet.
Jorel's shuttle docked with McKinley station. He exited the shuttle and made his way towards a nearby turbolift. As usual, the station was bustling with activity. He was half tempted to duck into one of the nearby restaurants for a meal. Having spent the past ten years eating replicated food, the prospect of eating something real and slightly imperfect was extremely tempting. Not wanting to be late for his debriefing he soldiered on towards the turbolift. Jorel hoped his meeting was relatively brief. He wanted to book passage on a transport leaving for Betazed in two days and was concerned it may already be booked. He entered the unusually empty turbolift and instructed the computer to take him to the conference room he'd been ordered to report to for his meeting.
Jorel exited the turbolift and began walking towards the conference room that was marked for his debrief. As he turned the corner he froze. He saw two Starfleet Security officers standing guard over the conference room that he was ordered to report to. His debrief was just a matter of procedure and didn't warrant any unusually high level of security. Something was wrong here and Jorel was wary of going into a situation without knowing what to expect. He wasn't aware that he'd committed any crimes since he's been in Federation space, at least none that hadn't been sanctioned by Starfleet Intelligence. He reached out with his mind and sensed that the guards didn't mean him any harm and had no information about his meeting. He reached out further, hoping to touch the mind of whoever was in the conference room but was immediately rebuffed by something or someone who was sitting inside. Jorel mentally shrugged and decided that the only way he'd discover what was going on would be to get to his meeting. Jorel walked up to the pair of security officers and smiled, "I'm Commander Jorel Calhoun formerly attached as Executive Officer with the USS Freeman. I'm here for a meeting with Admiral Akaar's attaché." A look of confusion crossed the security officer's face at the mention of Admiral Akaar's attaché. He looked at Jorel appraisingly and simply told him to move inside. The doors to the conference room opened before Jorel could get a solid read on the guard's hesitation. He looked inside and saw Admiral Alynna Nechayev, Admiral William Ross, and an unfamiliar humanoid woman who bore the rank of Commander sitting at the table. Nechayev smiled as Jorel took a few steps in, "We've been expecting you Commander." She motioned towards an empty chair between her and Ross, "Please have a seat." The door closed behind Jorel and he distinctly heard a sound indicating the door had just been sealed. He sighed and muttered under his breath, "Looks like I can kiss that transport home goodbye..."
****
Jorel sat down between Admirals Alynna Nechayev and William Ross. Despite meeting with two of Starfleet's most influential flag officers, Jorel's attention was fixed on the woman sitting in front of him. She had dark skin, dark eyes, short hair that was cut off at the shoulder and the pips on her collar indicated that she bore the rank of Commander. He realized that she was a Betazoid but didn't understand why she was telepathically blocking him; this was not standard procedure for a meeting with members of the Admiralty. An old mission report from the U.S.S. Enterprise NCC 1701-D appeared on the screen. Admiral Nechayev regarded Jorel for a moment and then finally began the meeting, "Commander Calhoun, the information you are about to learn is classified. There are…"
Jorel cut her off mid-sentence, "I'm sorry Admiral but… why would you want to share anything classified with me? I tendered my resignation to Starfleet three days ago and was given confirmation that it had been accepted."
"Commander, we realize that you expected to walk in here to discuss your departure from Starfleet. However, there are things we need to review with you before we can make that happen."
Jorel mentally shrugged and nodded in agreement. Admiral Nechayev then began to discuss the mission report reflected on the conference room's screen. In 2369 the Enterprise received a distress call from a Dr. Richard Galen, a well-respected but reclusive archaeologist who, for a time, had taught at Starfleet Academy. While the Enterprise was successful in rescuing Dr. Galen from his attackers he succumbed to his injuries soon after. The Enterprise then began to follow clues in Dr. Galen's database that indicated a computer program or code had been split into pieces and spread throughout the galaxy. It was being stored in the genetic codes of organisms on certain planets. Apparently, the other major powers, the Cardassians, Romulans, and Klingons, were also pursuing Dr. Galen's clues. At the end of their journey, the code was compiled into a holographic recording of a previously unknown alien species claiming to have developed millennia in the past where they were alone in the universe. No other species had developed yet and it was their hope that by seeding other planets with pieces of their genetic material they could develop a humanoid ecosystem where alien cultures could interact and learn from each other; an opportunity that they never had. If what the alien said was true that would mean that much of the humanoid life that exists in the galaxy may have common origins.
Jorel sat quietly for a few moments after the briefing had concluded before responding, "This is all very interesting but… what does this have to do with me? If you've found a new lead, which is why I assume we're even discussing this, it sounds like the best person to dispatch would be Captain Picard."
Ross, who had been eerily quiet up to this point, finally spoke up, "If it weren't for the recent incident at Rashanar you might be right. Unfortunately, not too many people are confident in the Enterprise's ability to handle something like this anymore. While I'm not saying I share that sentiment there are other factors that have to be taken into consideration."
Jorel had heard about the incident at Rashanar shortly after arriving in the Sol system. It was being reported that the U.S.S. Juno had been destroyed after the Enterprise had launched an unprovoked attack on the Ontailian flagship Vuxhal. The Enterprise, which was expected back at Earth in a few days, claimed that they did not destroy the Vuxhal but instead destroyed some kind of 'mimic ship.' The situation is politically tenuous because the Ontailians, one of the non-Humanoid members of the Federation, have threatened to withdraw from the Federation over the incident. It's feared that an Ontailian withdrawal may spark an exodus of the non-Humanoid species from the Federation. Jorel didn't buy that the Enterprise would fire unprovoked and figured they were going to take the fall for this incident to salvage the Federation's relationship with the Ontailians.
Jorel didn't share any of his thoughts on the matter during the meeting and instead addressed Ross's last statement, "What other factors?"
****
Jorel's thoughts raced back to the incident at Sector 7459. The destruction of the planet and its corresponding 'moon,' the loss of the entire away team, his experience with the obelisk all came crashing into his thoughts. The Betazoid Commander that was sitting in front of him, who had not contributed to the meeting up to this point, began to intently focus on Jorel at the mention of Sector 7459. Jorel immediately closed off his mind to her and stood away from the conference table.
"What is going on here? Why were you scanning my…?"
Nechayev quickly tried to head off the confrontation and stood to match Jorel, "Commander Calhoun… this is Commander Elira Ziniri. I asked her to come along because we needed her abilities to verify something." Nechayev turned her focus to Commander Ziniri and scowled, "Although in this instance, she has exceeded her mandate."
Jorel looked from Ross to Nechayev, "Admirals, you're talking a lot but saying very little. Unless someone explains what the hell this is all about…" Jorel grabbed his communicator and threw it onto the table, "…you can consider my resignation effective immediately and you can unseal that damn door so I can leave."
Ross cleared his throat and pressed a few buttons on the conference table. An image of a planetary system, located just inside Romulan space appeared on the conference room screen. "Alright Commander… here it is. You were in direct telepathic contact with an alien device. Shortly after you made contact with it the Freeman's away teams ended up dead and you were the only survivor. Then the planet and the artificial construct that appeared as a moon blew up. We need to know what really happened at Sector 7459."
Jorel fixed Ross with an icy stare, "Everything that happened was included in my mission report! Have I given you reason to believe that I falsified or omitted information?"
Ross matched Jorel's stare with one of his own. "No. We don't believe you would intentionally alter or omit anything from your report. However, new information has come to light." Ross pressed a few buttons and the image shifted to the sixth planet in the Brenleek system. The planet's three moons were highlighted on the display and we're orbiting the planet oddly. "After the incident at Sector 7459 we modified our long range probes to detect patterns similar to what the Freeman had found. Specifically, the odd orbit of the moons. We've encountered other races that have used technology to alter a planetary body's orbit but what you discovered in Sector 7459 was unique. This is what one of our probes found in Romulan space."
Although he was trying not to let it show, Jorel was stunned. He didn't expect to see something like what he'd encountered in Sector 7459 again. "Wait a second… what was one of our probes doing in that part of Romulan space? Starfleet doesn't send probes into Romulan space in this manner." Jorel shifted his gaze back to Nechayev, "That would be a violation of the treaty, current alliances notwithstanding… How do we know if this data is reliable?"
Admiral Nechayev smirked, "That's a conversation for another time Commander. Suffice to say, we believe this information is extremely reliable."
Jorel ignored her comment knowing all too well the machinations of Starfleet Intelligence. "How could the Romulans have missed this?"
"A typical probe scan wouldn't pick up this amount of detail. Romulan sensors are also not as acute as ours. The system is also outside of their shipping routes, no habitable planets, and no minerals of any value."
"This is fascinating but… what are you looking for from me? Everything I know I reported on three years ago. Whatever the Enterprise's troubles… Captain Picard is the one with the archaeological background and command experience that should be dispatched to handle this."
Ross changed the display and a DNA pattern emerged labeled with Jorel's name and information. It was apparently a record from his medical file but was oddly labeled as classified.
"Again… there are other factors we must take into consideration… These scans of Brenleek VI reached us two weeks ago. When we realized what we may be dealing with we took a much harder look at the Freeman's report. We found nothing that was potentially useful. The data your ship's doctor sent us on the away team and the manner of their demise didn't reveal anything new that we hadn't picked up on when we first received the Freeman's data. The files on your recovery were also unremarkable. As per standard procedure, your ship's doctor did save samples from the encounter and she was ordered to turn them over to Starfleet Medical last week. That was when we found this pattern in your DNA."
Jorel looked at the scans of his DNA and didn't see anything strange. "It looks like a typical DNA pattern."
Ross nodded, "You're right except for one marked difference… The entire alien code, with a few modifications, now appears in your genetic code. Your physicals prior to this incident do not show this pattern. You were changed at Sector 7459. Commander Ziniri is here to help us see if your mind has been in some way corrupted by your contact with the obelisk. We don't know to what extent but… something is different about you and we think whatever it is may be the key to helping us find out about these so called progenitors of ours."
****
Jorel sat at the desk in his assigned quarters at Utopia Planitia. After discovering that his DNA had been altered and ingrained with a genetically coded message left by some long dead humanoid race, Jorel agreed to a series of medical and psychological exams. He also agreed to be subjected to a series of invasive telepathic scans by Commander Elira Ziniri, a former Counselor who now worked for Nechayev in Starfleet Intelligence. After a full six days worth of exams they were unable to turn up any new information. Ross and Nechayev had spent the remainder of the time trying to convince Jorel to stay in Starfleet and take command of the mission to Brenleek VI. However, Jorel had grown weary of starship life and had been looking forward to a time spent with his boots on the ground.
Jorel decided against looking at the collection of data pads detailing the mission and ship he was being offered for a fourth time. He turned off the newsfeed from the Federation New Service, which was continuing in it's coverage of the Enterprise and the incident at the Rashanar Shipyards, and headed towards his bed. The moment he got under the covers the doorbell chimed. Jorel chose to ignore the door, hoping whoever was on the other side would get the idea and go away. After the third chime, a familiar voice rang over the speaker. "It's not nice to make a lady wait."
Jorel suppressed a chuckle and got out of bed. "There are many words I'd use to describe you Verna, but lady is not one of them."
Jorel instructed the computer to open the door and Verna Ziloran, a female Zakdorn and Jorel's handler during his time working undercover for Starfleet Intelligence, walked in and cast an appraising glance at Jorel.
"You've aged well."
"I don't think you came here to talk to me about how good I do or do not look. The only times I've known you to leave Starfleet Headquarters is when you're on a mission. What is it you want Verna?"
"I was hoping you would find it nice to see me. It's been over 11 years since we last saw each other. I heard your ship was berthed here so I thought I'd pay you a friendly visit."
"I didn't realize I had the words stupid or idiot tattooed on my forehead. For you to pay a friendly visit means that we would have to be friends. … What have you been told about my meeting with Nechayev and Ross?"
Verna smiled and sat down in the living room area, "Astute as always."
Jorel joined her in the living area and sat at a nearby couch, "What have you heard?'
"You've been offered your own command to look into what we found at Brenleek VI. It's a follow-up to the Enterprises' mission from eight years ago and is apparently linked to what happened to you three years ago during your second tour with the Freeman."
"Well that's definitely the short version."
"Short or not, why haven't you accepted? If you got it into your head that you're somehow going to settle down when you get back to Betazed then you have severely misjudged yourself. You're not the kind who 'settles down.' Hell, I'm surprised you didn't simply off yourself during your time with the Freeman. I've read the mission reports. You would have had far more excitement at a rehabilitation colony. With a few exceptions, there was hardly anything remarkable about your 10 years on the rim."
"Thanks for reminding me that the last ten years were such a memorable time in my life."
"Get off it Jorel. It wasn't that bad. In any case, if you weren't interested you'd have turned down this assignment already and left for Betazed on the last transport. Instead, where are you? The same site where the ship you've been offered is nearing completion with the mission and somewhat unique ship specifications sitting on your desk, no doubt having been endlessly reviewed."
Jorel got off the couch and started pacing around the room, "Don't be a fool Verna. Of course I'm interested. It's just… I did a lot of things working in Starfleet Intelligence. That was when I was at my best. The last ten years on the Freeman… let's just say it's left a bitter taste in my mouth of life as a Starfleet officer. I don't think I'm Starfleet material. It seems Starfleet prefers imbeciles like Captain Dillinger or the dearly departed Commander Yag..."
Verna snapped, "You shouldn't speak ill of the dead."
Jorel rolled his eyes, "My point stands. I probably wouldn't even have been given this command if it weren't because of whatever the hell that alien obelisk did to me."
Verna sighed, "I won't argue with you concerning possibilities that have no bearing on current circumstances. The reality is you have been given this command opportunity. You're familiar with the archeological background, you've encountered this technology before, and you certainly know how to deal with Romulans. Sure… there may be some resentment from those who don't know the classified details of this mission. You're name being moved up to the top of the list for command opportunities is likely to ruffle a few feathers, especially considering that you did not take part in the Federation's campaign against the Dominion." Verna got up from the desk and began to head towards the door, "It's your choice Jorel. I can guarantee you that if you do turn down this offer and go back to Betazed you will regret it."
Verna walked towards the door and stopped in the middle of the doorway, "You are right about one thing Jorel, you've been chosen for this assignment because of what happened to you three years ago. That means Starfleet needs you more than you need them. I think that gives you quite a bit of latitude in deciding what kind of Starfleet officer…no… Starfleet Captain you want to be.." With that, Verna walked out of Jorel's quarters.
Jorel sat back down and thought quietly for a few seconds. He gripped the Kurlan necklace he kept hung around his neck and smiled. Jorel then got off the couch, walked over to the closet, and put on his uniform.
"Computer, record message and send to the attention of Admirals Alynna Nechayev and William Ross."
The computer replied, "Ready."
"I'm in… Computer, send." Jorel walked out of his quarters and headed towards a nearby turbolift with the intention of harassing whoever was in charge of getting his ship built.