"Term of Service - Part 1"
Timeframe: March, 2401 - about three years before the Coridan Civil War
Location: Coridan Colony habitat on a planet somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant
An over-sized transport shuttle landed on a tarmac just outside the main habitat entrance. Two natural born Coridanians, one male and one female, ran to their places just outside the shuttle's door. Both wore the familiar crimson color found on all Coridan military personnel. However, the uniforms of these two were of a more modern style than those worn by Coridan Guard members. In fact, this particular uniform had never been seen outside of Coridan space.
The transport's door opened.
"FALL IN! MOVE IT!" Shouts continued to stream out of the two instructors as fifty new naturalized Citizens disembarked the transport. All were no more than 25 years of age, most appeared to be between 18 and 22. A few carried luggage, which was immediately confiscated by the instructors and tossed into a growing pile nearby on the tarmac.
"I SAID FALL IN! THAT MEANS LINE UP! DO IT!" After a few shoves in the right direction, the new arrivals formed something of a proper line alongside the transport.
The female instructor finally allowed a smile. "That's better." She began to pace up and down the line, sizing up the new recruits and giving her usual 'Welcome to My World' speech.
"The Coridan Royal Council has been generous enough to offer you the challenge of becoming naturalized Coridanian Citizens. Personally, I don't think even one of you is up to meeting that challenge, but since the bureaucrats at the CNP...” She paused briefly faining annoyance with a roll of her eyes, “That’s Citizenship Naturalization Program for you newbies.” She continued her speech, “Since CNP sent you low limbers to me, I guess I have to prove them wrong...and I will."
She stopped pacing, ‘the lot looks capable enough.’ Standing in-front of the group, she finished up her portion of the welcome.
"It's MY job to break you. It's MY job to destroy anyone not up to MY standards. MY name is Master Sargent Resals...this is MY world." Sargent Resals gave a parting sadistic smile, then headed off across the tarmac where another transport shuttle was landing.
The second instructor stepped up and continued the welcome speech.
"I am Sargent Serulas. As of this moment, I'm the only friend you have. Disappoint me and I'll be your worst enemy.
"As Master Sargent Resals said, you're here because you're now naturalized Coridan Citizens. Mataal Population Sub-Directive 2544 states, 'any off-worlder who is granted naturalized citizenship, after the year 2394, will be required to complete four years of service to the Coridan Royal Council.' It goes on to require that all newly naturalized Citizens, between the ages of 18 and 25, be sent directly to service in the Coridan Armed Corps. Those who have not yet reached their 18th year are to be sent to service once they have. Those who are already past their 25th year are to be sent to service in some other branch of the government.
"You are all between the ages of 18 and 25.
"There are 50 of you here today. In six months, no more than 25 will remain. We are required to wash-out at least 50-percent of all new arrivals. Those washed out will be sent to duty elsewhere in the government. Those who meet the challenge, and successfully complete all four years of required service to the Corps, will earn a place of honor in Coridan society and be treated as such.
"As a member of the Corps, you will be the front line protectors of the Council, the Coridan people, and the Coridan way of life. There is no higher service than the Corps. There is no greater challenge than the Corps.
"Embrace the Coridanian philosophies. Master Coridanian Mental Techniques. Raise your mind, body, and spirit to a higher level of being. You will become the future of your species. You will represent the future of the galaxy. You will be a Citizen of Coridan.
"On behalf of the Council and Coridan Corps Training Center number 205, I welcome you to TraylaNu.
"NOW MOVE! GO! GO!"
The line of new recruits sprinted off across the tarmac toward the habitat, with Sargent Serulas bringing up the rear, yelling and smacking those not moving fast enough with a small leather baton.
The majority of the fifty new arrivals were human, but there was a an assortment of other Alpha and Beta Quadrant species. Bajorian, Betazoid, Denobulan, even an Andorian and Orion; the only notable exception was Vulcan. In fact, there were no Vulcans among the entire citizenry despite the Coridan people’s great esteem for their Vulcan benefactors. It was simply not safe for Vulcans to adopt the mental techniques required of all Coridanian Citizens.
Continuing the sprint to the habitat entrance, one of the Human males slowed taking in the structure. Rising as much as 1.5-kilometers into the air, the giant towers of the habitat each supported hexagonal SkyPanels up to 5-kilometers in diameter; the red tint and technologies of the panels, providing the habitat’s interior a near perfect recreation of the Coridan homeworld’s original atmosphere. He’d seen the same sloping dome type structure only once before. That had been in the Hope One Dyson Sphere, a few klicks from the Federation’s GorVosh Station colony, before both were attacked by the 8472’s leaving them utterly destroyed. ‘Killing billions...including Magge and my friends.’ He’d nearly come to a complete stop at the bitter memory.
“Better MOVE IT Recruit!” a blond human yelled sarcastically as she trotted past. She looked back with an insanely cute smile and a wink. He hurried to catch up to her.
Jogging alongside her, he offered a hand, “Billy Travis.”
“What!?” she yelled, gesturing up to the throng of passing fighters and hovering transports, their deafening drone nearly constant across the tarmac.
“Billy Travis...my name is Billy Tr...” he yelled, but was drown out by the lift thrusters of a departing transport.
She smiled again, awkwardly shaking his hand as they ran, “Cella. Cella Southerland. From San Francisco, Earth.”
“San Fran!?” Billy shouted with amusement. “Corps must have really given you a pitch? How’d they steal you away from the Academy’s door step?”
Cella flashed him a crooked half grin, “Don’t much care for Starfleet.”
They grimaced in turn at the thump of the Sargent’s baton on their backsides. “LESS TALK! MORE MOVING RECRUITS!!”
Cella gave him another wink before doubling her pace, leaving Billy to the continued trashing.
An over-sized transport shuttle landed on a tarmac just outside the main habitat entrance. Two natural born Coridanians, one male and one female, ran to their places just outside the shuttle's door. Both wore the familiar crimson color found on all Coridan military personnel. However, the uniforms of these two were of a more modern style than those worn by Coridan Guard members. In fact, this particular uniform had never been seen outside of Coridan space.
The transport's door opened.
"FALL IN! MOVE IT!" Shouts continued to stream out of the two instructors as fifty new naturalized Citizens disembarked the transport. All were no more than 25 years of age, most appeared to be between 18 and 22. A few carried luggage, which was immediately confiscated by the instructors and tossed into a growing pile nearby on the tarmac.
"I SAID FALL IN! THAT MEANS LINE UP! DO IT!" After a few shoves in the right direction, the new arrivals formed something of a proper line alongside the transport.
The female instructor finally allowed a smile. "That's better." She began to pace up and down the line, sizing up the new recruits and giving her usual 'Welcome to My World' speech.
"The Coridan Royal Council has been generous enough to offer you the challenge of becoming naturalized Coridanian Citizens. Personally, I don't think even one of you is up to meeting that challenge, but since the bureaucrats at the CNP...” She paused briefly faining annoyance with a roll of her eyes, “That’s Citizenship Naturalization Program for you newbies.” She continued her speech, “Since CNP sent you low limbers to me, I guess I have to prove them wrong...and I will."
She stopped pacing, ‘the lot looks capable enough.’ Standing in-front of the group, she finished up her portion of the welcome.
"It's MY job to break you. It's MY job to destroy anyone not up to MY standards. MY name is Master Sargent Resals...this is MY world." Sargent Resals gave a parting sadistic smile, then headed off across the tarmac where another transport shuttle was landing.
The second instructor stepped up and continued the welcome speech.
"I am Sargent Serulas. As of this moment, I'm the only friend you have. Disappoint me and I'll be your worst enemy.
"As Master Sargent Resals said, you're here because you're now naturalized Coridan Citizens. Mataal Population Sub-Directive 2544 states, 'any off-worlder who is granted naturalized citizenship, after the year 2394, will be required to complete four years of service to the Coridan Royal Council.' It goes on to require that all newly naturalized Citizens, between the ages of 18 and 25, be sent directly to service in the Coridan Armed Corps. Those who have not yet reached their 18th year are to be sent to service once they have. Those who are already past their 25th year are to be sent to service in some other branch of the government.
"You are all between the ages of 18 and 25.
"There are 50 of you here today. In six months, no more than 25 will remain. We are required to wash-out at least 50-percent of all new arrivals. Those washed out will be sent to duty elsewhere in the government. Those who meet the challenge, and successfully complete all four years of required service to the Corps, will earn a place of honor in Coridan society and be treated as such.
"As a member of the Corps, you will be the front line protectors of the Council, the Coridan people, and the Coridan way of life. There is no higher service than the Corps. There is no greater challenge than the Corps.
"Embrace the Coridanian philosophies. Master Coridanian Mental Techniques. Raise your mind, body, and spirit to a higher level of being. You will become the future of your species. You will represent the future of the galaxy. You will be a Citizen of Coridan.
"On behalf of the Council and Coridan Corps Training Center number 205, I welcome you to TraylaNu.
"NOW MOVE! GO! GO!"
The line of new recruits sprinted off across the tarmac toward the habitat, with Sargent Serulas bringing up the rear, yelling and smacking those not moving fast enough with a small leather baton.
The majority of the fifty new arrivals were human, but there was a an assortment of other Alpha and Beta Quadrant species. Bajorian, Betazoid, Denobulan, even an Andorian and Orion; the only notable exception was Vulcan. In fact, there were no Vulcans among the entire citizenry despite the Coridan people’s great esteem for their Vulcan benefactors. It was simply not safe for Vulcans to adopt the mental techniques required of all Coridanian Citizens.
Continuing the sprint to the habitat entrance, one of the Human males slowed taking in the structure. Rising as much as 1.5-kilometers into the air, the giant towers of the habitat each supported hexagonal SkyPanels up to 5-kilometers in diameter; the red tint and technologies of the panels, providing the habitat’s interior a near perfect recreation of the Coridan homeworld’s original atmosphere. He’d seen the same sloping dome type structure only once before. That had been in the Hope One Dyson Sphere, a few klicks from the Federation’s GorVosh Station colony, before both were attacked by the 8472’s leaving them utterly destroyed. ‘Killing billions...including Magge and my friends.’ He’d nearly come to a complete stop at the bitter memory.
“Better MOVE IT Recruit!” a blond human yelled sarcastically as she trotted past. She looked back with an insanely cute smile and a wink. He hurried to catch up to her.
Jogging alongside her, he offered a hand, “Billy Travis.”
“What!?” she yelled, gesturing up to the throng of passing fighters and hovering transports, their deafening drone nearly constant across the tarmac.
“Billy Travis...my name is Billy Tr...” he yelled, but was drown out by the lift thrusters of a departing transport.
She smiled again, awkwardly shaking his hand as they ran, “Cella. Cella Southerland. From San Francisco, Earth.”
“San Fran!?” Billy shouted with amusement. “Corps must have really given you a pitch? How’d they steal you away from the Academy’s door step?”
Cella flashed him a crooked half grin, “Don’t much care for Starfleet.”
They grimaced in turn at the thump of the Sargent’s baton on their backsides. “LESS TALK! MORE MOVING RECRUITS!!”
Cella gave him another wink before doubling her pace, leaving Billy to the continued trashing.
