[USS Vanguard] Re: Carillon, Beaming Down.

  • From: Kieran Darkwater <kierandarkwater@xxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: ncv80221@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Mon, 1 Aug 2005 09:19:06 +0100 (BST)

"Away Team Briefing Document - Corrilon
The 'Wild West' of Earth lasted barely fifty years, in reality, after the slow 
expansion of settlers into the broad expanses of Native American lands, and 
ended by the rapid industrialisation of the area after the rail links were 
finished into the area.
These rail links brought with them influential companies which refused to 
tolerate the lawlessness that had flourished, and law enforcement came into 
being in an organised state.
In that interim period, despite the romantic imagery put forward by twentieth 
century literature and video entertainment, the life was hard, savage, and 
frequently brief.
Law and order extended as far as the law-enforcement guns could reach, in those 
cases where the law-enforcement itself was anything more than organised crime 
with a badge of office. Theft and murder were everyday occurences in most 
moderately sized towns, workmanship was generally shoddy with the exception of 
weaponry, and people owned exactly as much as they could defend from their 
neighbour and no more.
Culturally the Western American expansion was something of a wasteland, 
producing little but a few simple musical styles of little lasting merit, the 
hard-wearing denim cloth that dominating popular clothing for a little over a 
century across the millenium and a few recurrent fads for imitating the Native 
American lifestyle with little understanding.
Towards the later end of the period literature based in the region began to 
have some impact, but whether the state of the 'Wild' west still existed then 
is debatable.
Parallel evolution never guarantees precisely the same civilisation, but the 
away team should be prepared to be viewed as hostile interlopers, and should be 
cautious about any open declarations of friendship or openness. Modified 
weaponry will be made available in the style of native projectile weaponry with 
sedative ammunition, and it is recommended that some form of body protection be 
worn to defend against similar projectile weapons."
Having finished his briefing - which the computer automatically routed to all 
the away-team members - Kieran turned back to the replicator and called up his 
clothing with a despairing sigh. He wasn't particularly up-to-date on the 
latest fashions flowing out of the design houses on whichever planet happened 
to be 'in' this week, but he was pretty sure that harsh fabric trousers, 
flannel shirts in tartan patterns and oversized hats probably wasn't involved.
Flinging them on the bed in disgust, he routed himself via the armoury for his 
simulation firearms - a Winchester action shotgun and a seven-shot revolving 
pistol - and the mono-filament fibre vest before returning to dress.
/Why do they need an anthropologist in a cultural desert like this?/ he sighed 
to himself, eyeing the ridiculous figure that stared back from the mirror. 
/Chaps!/ he berated himself, calling up the addition from the replicator. /At 
least I might get the chance to do some riding.../
Sighing again, he turned away from the mirror, the gunbelt slung over his 
shoulder, and headed towards the transporter room.
OOC> Sorry about the delays, but I'm still here.
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