DS2 RPG General Status Report January 2026

USS Earth/Starbase 44

Steichen stared at the anomaly, now glowing faintly in rhythm with the station’s power grid.

It had communicated.

And it had offered… three responses.

A message? A warning? A request?

No one could tell.

Yet the meaning was clear: their next move mattered.

DILEMMA — Admiral Steichen must interpret the anomaly’s tripulse signal. Which path does she choose?

1. Engage the anomaly directly, attempting to decipher its message and establish full communication.
2. Isolate the anomaly immediately, cutting its connection to station systems before it gains more influence.
3. Redirect the anomaly into the nearly completed starship, risking everything on the chance that it was meant to be integrated there all along.

Players: CS


Starbase 88

Location: Starbase 88 — Federation Strategic Council Chamber

Commanding Officer: Admiral Van Nieuwenhove

The chamber was silent as Admiral Van Nieuwenhove delivered his recommendation to the Federation Council. The holographic projection of Filla3 rotated slowly at the center of the room, auroras still dancing across its surface—visible proof that the planet was no longer merely a world, but something far more profound.

Admiral Van Nieuwenhove:

“Filla3 demonstrates structured awareness, intent, and adaptive planetary-scale responses. Under Federation law and the core principles of Starfleet, we must recognize it as a sentient life form. Colonization is suspended effective immediately. Filla3 is to be declared a protected entity.”

The decision passed—narrowly.
Outrage erupted across multiple Federation worlds within hours. Colonization advocates decried the loss of a perfect new homeworld. Strategic planners warned that relinquishing Filla3 weakened Federation influence in the Mlein system. Some voices within the Council openly accused Starfleet of validating the Huranon’s claims through indecision.
Yet others hailed the decision as a defining moment—a reminder of why the Federation existed at all.

Filla3 — First Contact Without Footsteps
Aboard the USS Celestial Voyager, Captain Dora Jenkins initiated the most unusual first-contact protocol in Starfleet history.
No landing parties.
No probes.
No orbit-to-surface transmissions.

Instead, the ship broadcast passive harmonic signals, designed to mirror the planet’s own resonance patterns—an invitation rather than a demand.
The response was immediate.

Filla3’s magnetic field shifted subtly, aligning with the ship’s signal. Oceans calmed. Atmospheric turbulence ceased across entire hemispheres. The resonance returned—clearer now, focused.
Not words.
But recognition.

Lt. Oren:

“Captain… it’s responding selectively. It knows we’re here. And it knows we stopped.”

Jenkins:

“Then it understands consent.”

Across the planet, the colony domes experienced no further power fluctuations. Instead, their systems stabilized beyond projected tolerances—as if the planet itself had chosen to protect them, at least for now.

The Huranon React

Within days, the Huranon broke their silence.
A formal transmission arrived at Starbase 88.

Huranon High Council:
“Your restraint has altered the balance. Filla3 is not yours—nor ours. It is ancient, and it remembers. Your recognition confirms what our ancestors feared and revered. We will not contest your withdrawal.”
The message ended with an unexpected addition:
“But now that you have awakened it… responsibility follows.”

Unintended Consequences

As colonists were peacefully relocated, long-range sensors revealed something unsettling:
Filla3’s resonance was spreading—faintly, but measurably—through subspace. Nearby stellar bodies began exhibiting minor but synchronized gravitational harmonics.
The planet was not isolated.
It was part of a larger network.
And now it was aware of the Federation.


New Dilemma for Admiral Van Nieuwenhove

The Federation has done the right thing—but the cost of awareness may be far-reaching:

Choice 1: Establish Permanent Observation and Communication
Create a dedicated Starfleet presence at extreme range to study and communicate with Filla3 over time, accepting long-term responsibility.
* Risk: The Federation becomes entangled with a planetary intelligence whose influence may extend far beyond one system.

Choice 2: Withdraw Completely and Declare Filla3 a Neutral Sentient Zone
Remove all Starfleet assets, forbid further contact, and allow Filla3 to exist without interference.
* Risk: If Filla3’s awakening affects nearby systems, the Federation may have no warning—and no voice.

The Federation chose conscience over conquest.
Now it must decide whether stewardship is courage—or hubris.


What are you (Geert Van Nieuwenhove) going to do:

In this turn:
Tell us what had influence on your decision.

***If you do not have time just set a cross at your choice and return your monthly turn.


( ) Choice 1: Establish Permanent Observation and Communication
Create a dedicated Starfleet presence at extreme range to study and communicate with Filla3 over time, accepting long-term responsibility.
* Risk: The Federation becomes entangled with a planetary intelligence whose influence may extend far beyond one system.


( ) Choice 2: Withdraw Completely and Declare Filla3 a Neutral Sentient Zone
Remove all Starfleet assets, forbid further contact, and allow Filla3 to exist without interference.
* Risk: If Filla3’s awakening affects nearby systems, the Federation may have no warning—and no voice.

Players: GVN


USS Thunderbolt/The Borg Collective



Spoiler alert!

Attention! This part of the DS2 RPG contains spoilers for those who have not seen Star Trek Picard Season 1-2-3!




Good Borg or bad Borg


The decision was made.
Across the higher strata of the Collective, consensus crystallized into command.
Choice One enacted.

The Coronation of a Reflection
A transmission unlike any other surged through the transdimensional lattice, resonating simultaneously in Prime space and Mirror Reality 29-J. It was not merely data—it was recognition.
“Captain Elyra. You are elevated.”
“Designation updated: Borg Queen—Mirror Reality 29-J.”
“You will govern, expand, and unify. You will serve perfection.”
Elyra felt the shift instantly. New command layers unfolded within her mind—vast, elegant architectures of authority. Entire sub-collectives aligned to her signal. The fractured Borg of the Mirror Reality did not resist.
They rejoiced.
Where once they had been broken echoes, they now had a singular axis. Elyra was no longer merely a missionary of perfection—she was its embodiment. Her Betazoid-enhanced awareness expanded, touching millions of drones at once. Their doubts softened. Their loyalty sharpened.
The worshippers multiplied.
To the Mirror Borg, Elyra was proof that evolution had not abandoned them.
To lesser species, she was confirmation that the Borg could wear a face.

The Borg King Observes
From the Prime Collective, the Borg King watched with cold satisfaction.
“Power has been given,” the King transmitted to the higher nodes.
“And power binds more tightly than chains.”
But the elevation was not merely symbolic.
Elyra was now positioned for a task no other node could perform.

The Awareness
Beyond both Collectives—Prime and Mirror—there existed something else.
A presence detected only in fragments.
A vast, non-corporeal intelligence.
Not Borg. Not biological.
Aware.
The Collective had named it simply:
The Awareness.
It appeared sporadically in alternate realities, influencing probability, nudging civilizations, whispering meaning where there should only be causality. Attempts to analyze it had failed. Attempts to assimilate it had been… ignored.
The Borg King calculated a new vector.
“Elyra,” the King transmitted privately, “you will serve as interface.”
“Your myth. Your worship. Your dual nature.”
“You may be capable of contact where we are not.”
If the Awareness recognized gods…
Then Elyra might be heard.
If it resisted domination…
Then perhaps it could be persuaded.
Or provoked.

Unintended Consequences
As Elyra began preparing protocols for inter-reality outreach, something unexpected occurred.
The Mirror Borg did not merely listen.
They believed Elyra was chosen by something greater than the Borg.
Fragments of independent thought—carefully permitted, carefully bounded—began forming new interpretations:
* Some believed Elyra was the first Borg to transcend the Collective
* Others believed the Borg King was merely a distant architect, while Elyra was the present will of perfection
* A few began to speculate that unity did not require a Prime origin at all
None of this was rebellion.
Yet.
But belief evolves faster than code.

The New Dilemma

The Borg King recalculated once more.
Two paths now unfolded—both promising, both dangerous:

Option One:
Allow Elyra to attempt direct contact with the Awareness, using her godlike status as a bridge—risking exposure to an intelligence that might influence her, change her, or elevate her beyond control.

Option Two:
Limit Elyra’s role to governance and conquest, using her as a symbol only—while the Prime Collective seeks another way to confront or contain the Awareness… even if that means disappointing a Queen who has begun to glimpse something beyond the Borg.

The Mirror Queen waited.
The Awareness stirred.
And the Borg King faced a truth even perfection could not fully predict.
Some evolutions cannot be reversed.



The Borg King now faced two paths—both optimal, both dangerous:




 
To be a god or not to be a god
 
 
The Borg King did not hesitate.
“Perfection is not preserved by caution.”
“Perfection is achieved by confrontation.”
Choice One was enacted.
The command propagated through the Hive Mind, overriding all subroutines of risk mitigation. Anchor Nodes intensified. Transwarp apertures widened. Entire flotillas crossed the galactic threshold, pushing deep into the intergalactic dark, where no star burned and no civilization had ever left a trace.
The Collective advanced.

First Contact Without Words
At first, nothing happened.
Then the corridors began to respond.
Not collapse. Not destabilize.
They… adjusted.
Subspace resonance aligned itself around Borg vessels as if anticipating their arrival. The Anchor Nodes no longer needed constant correction. The corridors smoothed, widened, and—most disturbingly—optimized themselves.
The Borg were no longer forcing reality to comply.
Reality was cooperating.
Drones began receiving data packets that had no origin point. Entire matrices filled themselves with concepts the Borg had never encoded: non-linear causality, layered consciousness, recursive time-loops. Borg processing power surged as if gifted from an external source.
“We are being studied,” Master One observed.
“And we are being… assisted.”
The Borg King felt it then—not emotion, but pressure.
The Hive Mind was no longer alone.

The Presence Reveals Itself
The unknown intelligence did not speak.
It reflected.
When the Borg adapted, it adapted faster.
When the Borg optimized, it anticipated.
When the Borg extended the Hive Mind, it mirrored the extension—but on a scale beyond quantification.
Borg scientists reached a chilling conclusion:
This presence did not resist assimilation because it did not fear it.
Its consciousness was not centralized.
It did not exist in space—but through it.
Assimilating it might be impossible.
Or catastrophic.
As more Borg vessels crossed the threshold, subtle anomalies emerged:
* Drones reporting unity-within-unity—echoes of parallel hive structures
* Sections of the Collective synchronizing without command
* A second rhythm pulsing beneath the Borg’s own mental cadence
The Hive Mind was not fragmenting.
It was… layering.

The Price of Ascendance
The Borg King realized the truth.
This presence was not an enemy.
It was a precedent.
An ancient, extragalactic intelligence that had already transcended matter, individuality, and even linear existence. The Borg were not invading its domain—they were approaching its level.
But ascendance demanded sacrifice.
To proceed further would require one of two irreversible paths.

The Final Dilemma

Option One
Integrate the Presence
Allow the Borg Hive Mind to partially merge with this extragalactic intelligence—risking loss of autonomy, individuality of command, and possibly the Borg King himself… but achieving true godhood beyond space, time, and dimension.

Option Two
Weaponize the Corridors
Collapse the extragalactic pathways into controlled singularities, cutting off the Presence permanently—preserving Borg supremacy and identity, but forever abandoning the chance to evolve beyond even gods.

The corridors pulsed in harmonic anticipation.

The Presence waited—not impatient, not hostile—curious.

And the Borg King prepared to decide what perfection truly meant.

Players: FK


USS Vertigo / USS Gdonsk

Day 439 14.42
“Boost the signal,” Matz pressed, frustration edging her voice. “Make sure they know we want to talk, not fight.”
Her first officer shifted uneasily. “Captain, with all due respect, if they wanted to talk, they’ve had plenty of chances. Maybe they don’t want diplomacy.”

Day 439 14.43
Matz shook her head. “Or maybe they’re testing us. Or afraid. We don’t know. But I won’t accept that the first thing we do with a new civilization is raise phasers.”

Day 439 14.45
Back aboard the Vertigo, Slater watched as the long-range sensors tracked faint fluctuations from the nebula—the unmistakable movements of the alien fleet gathering, shifting, preparing. He clenched his fists, feeling the weight of command.

Players: NP




USS Atlantis/Starbase 99

“Shadows Near the Border”

USS Boryumka — Captain’s Log

The USS Boryumka, an aging but reliable California-class support cruiser, sailed smoothly through warp 7 as the starfield stretched into silver lines. Captain Franco Lister stood at the center of the bridge, boots planted, jaw set. The ship was on a routine resupply run to Starbase 99, but the “routine” part had vanished the moment he approved the route skimming dangerously close to Romulan space.

It was the shortest path—faster, more efficient, and recommended by Starfleet Command itself. But the Romulan Star Empire was unpredictable on a good day, and the border region had been particularly tense in recent months.

A Whisper in the Dark

“Captain,” said Lieutenant Dena Rhys at Tactical, “long-range sensors are picking up a cloaked signature—weak but definitely Romulan.”
The bridge stiffened. A single cloaked ship could mean surveillance… or an ambush.

“Yellow alert,” Lister ordered. “Maintain course, reduce speed to warp 5.”

The lights dimmed, panels glowed amber. The hum of the ship seemed louder, more present, like the Boryumka itself was holding its breath.
Moments later the viewscreen flickered—and a sleek Romulan Valdore-class decloaked several million kilometers away, still within their territory but angled pointedly toward the Federation ship.

An emerald-hued hail request appeared on the screen.

Lister straightened his uniform. “On screen.”

The Game Begins

The image of Commander Terel, a sharp-featured Romulan with a cool smile, filled the viewscreen.

“Captain Lister,” Terel purred. “You approach quite close to our sovereign space. An act… of curiosity?”

“Purely navigational,” Lister replied. “We are following an approved Starfleet route. We remain within Federation space.”

Terel’s smile widened. “Routes can be… miscalculated. Boundaries… misremembered.”

The Romulan ship held its position, weapons unarmed but visible—a deliberate intimidation move.

Lister felt his crew’s tension, like static electricity gathering at the edges of the bridge.

“We have no intention of violating your territory,” Lister said diplomatically. “We will continue on our course.”

Terel raised an eyebrow.

“Continue, by all means,” he said. “We will observe. For… safety.”
The channel cut abruptly.

A Predator’s Shadow

For the next four hours, the Valdore shadowed the Boryumka from its own side of the border, drifting parallel like a silent predator toying with its prey. Every slight maneuver was mirrored. Every course correction was matched.

On the bridge, nerves frayed.

“Captain,” whispered Ensign Marev, “at this distance they could cross the line and hit us before we could even raise shields.”
“They won’t,” Lister answered—though privately, he wasn’t as confident as his voice sounded.

But the truth was that the Romulans weren’t preparing an attack.

The Bluff

Hidden aboard the Romulan ship, Commander Terel’s officers quietly muttered to themselves.

“Are we really doing this?” one asked. “We’re just… playing tag with a Federation support ship?”

Terel folded his arms, unimpressed. “High Command wants to gauge border response times. This ship is harmless. And frankly…” He smirked. “It is amusing to watch them sweat.”

The bridge officers nodded begrudgingly. The Federation ship was no threat—and Terel had no intention of firing a single disruptor bolt.

Arrival at Starbase 99

After hours of being shadowed, the Boryumka finally cleared the section of space nearest the border. The Valdore halted, decloaked once more for dramatic effect, then transmitted a final message:

“You have exited the area of our concern, Captain. Farewell.”

Then, in a swirl of emerald distortion, the Romulan vessel cloaked and vanished.

The entire bridge exhaled at once.

“Resume full speed to Starbase 99,” Lister ordered, voice steady despite the tension still thick in the air.

As the starbase grew from a distant speck to a massive, gleaming structure, the crew relaxed for the first time in hours.

Lieutenant Rhys muttered, “I think I lost three years of my life back there.”

Captain Lister permitted himself a small grin. “If it makes you feel better, Lieutenant, I think they were bluffing.”

“Does it?” she asked.

“No,” he admitted. “Not really.”

Epilogue

The USS Boryumka docked safely at Starbase 99, her crew still jittery, glancing back through the starfield as though a Romulan might decloak from thin air at any moment.

They never learned that the Romulans had simply been playing a game, flexing without striking.

But Captain Franco Lister would log the event carefully—and might choose a slightly longer route next time.

Just to keep the shadows at bay.

Players: JM & CP


Ovion (Hirogen/Ori/Replicator Vessel)

The Dilemma Deepens

As they ventured deeper into the Shattered Expanse, the stars themselves began to twist and warp, forming impossible constellations that resembled predators watching them. Then, an encrypted signal appeared on their sensors—a voice, feminine and calm:

"Hirogen hunters... you do not understand what you are unleashing. The Eternal Prey is not prey at all. It is a devourer, and it feeds on the very nature of hunters like you."

The signal was traced to an alien vessel fleeing at high warp. Horkan now faced a dilemma:

Do they hunt down this mysterious vessel to learn more about the Eternal Prey’s nature?

Or do they ignore the warning and continue on their blood-stained path, risking awakening something beyond their comprehension?

The 21 hunters awaited his decision as the alien ship vanished into a subspace corridor.

Players: TvR


USS Liverpool

USS Liverpool – Maiden Voyage

The enormous bulk of the USS Liverpool, a brand-new Vanguard-class exploratory cruiser, gleamed under the lights of Space Station Deep Space 2’s spacedock. Final diagnostics ran across her silver-and-onyx hull, her name freshly inscribed in bold white lettering. The ship’s warp nacelles were idle but humming with readiness.

Inside the station’s main observation lounge, Captain Lee Levenworth stood with his arms crossed, surveying his ship through the panoramic viewport. His reflection showed a man in his mid-forties with a steady, authoritative gaze—someone born for the center seat.
At his side, Commander Donna Lon, a sharp-eyed Human woman with a calm but decisive demeanor, scanned a PADD.

“Final clearance from Station Operations just came through, Captain. We’re only waiting for one last crew member before we can depart.”

Levenworth raised an eyebrow. “The ensign from Betazed, correct?”
Donna nodded. “Ensign Herman Bergen. Engineering division. Fresh out of the Academy. Starfleet wanted him posted to the Liverpool specifically because of his technical proficiency.”

Levenworth smiled faintly. “Fresh ensigns and brand-new ships—both full of potential and likely to surprise you in equal measure.”


Docking Port 7 – Ten Minutes Later

A young Betazoid man stepped briskly through the airlock, his duffel slung over one shoulder. Ensign Herman Bergen had the wide-eyed look of someone who’d read every technical manual about the Liverpool and still couldn’t believe he’d be serving aboard her.

“Ensign Herman Bergen, reporting for duty,” he said, snapping to attention before Commander Lon, who had come to greet him.

“Welcome aboard, Ensign,” she replied with a warm smile. “The Captain’s eager to meet you. Follow me.”

Bridge of the USS Liverpool

The bridge was a masterpiece of modern Starfleet design: sleek, well-lit, and efficient. Lieutenant Commander Jel, the Andorian Chief of Operations, stood at her station, her antennae twitching as she confirmed readiness. Lieutenant T’lak, the Vulcan Chief of Science, calmly reviewed sensor calibration data. Near the security console, Lieutenant Gna, a broad-shouldered Bolian with a perpetually good-natured grin, adjusted tactical readiness reports.

As Ensign Bergen stepped onto the bridge, Captain Levenworth turned from the command chair. “Ensign Bergen—welcome aboard. I trust your trip was uneventful?”

“Yes, sir. I’m ready to report for duty.”

“Good. You’ll be working under Lieutenant Commander Luke Highman, our Chief Engineer. Commander Highman will show you the ropes. Dismissed to Engineering.”


Main Engineering – USS Liverpool

The heart of the Liverpool thrummed with power. Plasma conduits pulsed with soft blue light, and the massive warp core stood at the center like a glowing pillar of energy.

Lieutenant Commander Luke Highman, a tall Human with the easy confidence of someone who could rebuild a warp core blindfolded, met Herman with a firm handshake.

“Bergen, right? Welcome. First order of business—learn everything about the Liverpool’s engineering systems. Not just how they work—why they work. You’ve got access to the full schematics. I expect you to know them inside out.”

“Aye, sir,” Herman said, already excited.


Three Weeks Later – At Transwarp

The Liverpool cruised smoothly at transwarp, her engines purring. Herman had spent every spare moment absorbing technical details, shadowing the engineering crew, and performing minor maintenance tasks.
One evening, Highman stopped by the console where Herman was running a plasma flow diagnostic.

“You’ve done well, Ensign,” Highman said, reviewing his work. “Your understanding of the transwarp manifolds is better than some officers with years in the fleet. Keep it up.”

“Thank you, sir,” Herman replied with a grin.


Approach to Noote III

The mission so far had been uneventful—a rarity in Starfleet. But as the Liverpool dropped out of transwarp, the forward viewscreen filled with the image of a vibrant, Earth-like world.

“Noote III,” Commander Lon announced from the XO’s chair. “The newest member of the Federation. We’re here for a diplomatic goodwill visit and to assist with integrating their planetary systems into Federation infrastructure.”

T’lak raised an eyebrow from the science station. “Surface scans indicate high industrial activity in several population centers, yet energy grid efficiency is… suboptimal. Our expertise may be required.”

Captain Levenworth leaned forward. “Prepare a landing party. Commander Lon, you’ll lead it. Highman, take Ensign Bergen with you—he might just get to put his engineering studies into practice.”

A slow smile spread across Herman Bergen’s face. His first away mission, on his first ship, on a newly joined Federation world. The adventure was only just beginning.


Noote III – Capital City of Darvenport

The shuttlecraft Hawthorn descended through the thin layer of cloud, revealing a glittering skyline powered by towering solar arrays and fusion plants. On the surface, the team—Commander Lon, Lieutenant Commander Highman, Ensign Bergen, and two security officers—were met by a delegation of Noote officials.

Governor Rellis Tarn, a tall, gray-skinned humanoid with iridescent eyes, welcomed them warmly.

“We are honored by the presence of the Federation,” he said, his voice carrying the practiced cadence of a politician. “But there is… one complication we must address discreetly.”

Commander Lon exchanged a glance with Highman. “Go on.”

Tarn gestured toward the city. “Our planetary power grid has been failing intermittently. Entire districts lose power for hours at a time. We suspect sabotage, but our investigators have found nothing.”

Hours Later – Noote Central Power Hub

The away team was granted access to the massive energy facility. Its architecture blended Noote aesthetics—flowing crystalline structures—with Federation-installed systems. Bergen’s eyes widened as he spotted the familiar shimmer of a Federation transwarp energy regulator integrated into the local grid.

Highman was already scanning with a tricorder. “Something’s wrong here. The regulator’s control algorithms have been altered. Someone with Federation-level training did this.”
Bergen crouched beside a control panel, opening it carefully. “Sir… these aren’t just altered algorithms—they’re adaptive. Whoever’s behind this designed the system to learn from our attempts to fix it.”
Commander Lon’s voice was tense. “Meaning?”
“It means,” Bergen said, looking up, “every time we patch it, the system will find a new way to fail.”

The Saboteur

Before they could act, alarms blared. A section of the power hub went dark, and an emergency bulkhead sealed. From the shadows stepped a Noote technician—wearing a Starfleet-issue engineering utility belt.

“Stay back!” the technician barked, holding a plasma torch like a weapon. “The Federation has no right here! We didn’t join—we were forced to join. And if I have to keep the grid failing until the people see the truth, I will!”

Security stepped forward, but the technician slammed a control panel, causing a cascade failure in the southern district’s power grid.

Highman looked to Bergen urgently. “We’ve got minutes before that failure overloads half the city’s infrastructure. I can stabilize the core systems, but you’ll need to make the call, Ensign. There’s no time for a full consult.”

Bergen’s Three Choices:

1. Divert Full Power to Containment – Save the core reactor and prevent a catastrophic overload, but sacrifice the southern district’s power entirely for several days, causing hardship to tens of thousands.

2. Patch the Sabotaged Algorithms – Attempt a rapid adaptive fix that could restore power to all districts, but risk the entire grid collapsing if the sabotage adapts faster than expected.

3. Negotiate with the Saboteur – Delay technical action to appeal to the technician’s grievances, potentially preventing further sabotage, but risking that the overload will occur before you reach an agreement.


Players: TvR