The intent - Flagg has tricks and strategems, and shit like that.
The Discovery crew and the Cincanntus crew are working as a team - they draw the net tighter and tighter and cut Flagg off more and more.
Flagg command obedience through fear and power, this fails in the end. Hailey and Li'ira build teams working together they're better than Flagg.
In time, Flagg and a handful of his guys beam down to random location on the planet and run off into the woods, with the Marines hot on their trail.
While the Ekosians don't last long, Flagg is invisible to sensors and must be track manually.
-*-
The Discovery and Cincinnatus crew continue to try Disaster relief for the stricken city.
-*-
The Melakon is wrecked and unable to continue. The Ekosians are captured. What is to be done with them? IDK, I didn't write that far into it yet.
I waffled between stranding them there as indentured relief workers, putting them into cryo sleep or something. IDK.
In the end after months of work, Starfleet recovers all technology from the planet and moves on leaving Flagg stranded.
Final Flagg
-
jayphailey
- Posts: 1578
- Joined: Tue May 29, 2018 7:50 pm
Re: Final Flagg
The End of Flagg in ST-OM
Flagg hid in a carefully selected hiding place and watched.
Hunters. A group of three, armed with muskets.
This was the third group in six weeks. That was too many. Someone had a clue there was a monster about. Or it might be a coincidence. Flagg didn’t believe in coincidences.
He waited until the hunters had moved on.
Then he left his hiding spot. It was getting harder to move. Everything hurt. Old injuries were coming back to haunt him.
He made a zig zag through his forest, checking for trackers before heading back to his cave. He picked up only what he needed, and put it into a worn pack, along with some carefully saved food and water.
All native stuff. Had been since the beginning. Flagg remembered fleeing and hiding and feeling like he was still in charge. He remembered the feeling of triumph when he realized the Marines had stopped chasing him. It took months. They were determined. That idiot Hailey probably took both of his ships down to danger level helping the godforsaken mud people of this godforsaken planet.
Flagg thought he’d won. He thought he’d escaped.
He looked up at the moon, it’s weather patterns swirling slowly in the sky. Once it was a short hop. A nothing little place not even worth visiting.
Now Flagg was trapped on the ground. He could no more travel to that moon than he could the Andromeda galaxy. He was stranded.
He’d spent endless hours watching the sky, looking for a telltale moving spark that meant space travelers had come once again. He’d seen nothing.
Rage washed over him. Controlling it was getting harder. Staying in the right mindset was getting harder.
Staying alive was The Mission. Surviving until somehow he was rescued. That was The Mission.
It had been thirty-five years.
Flagg always moved. He stayed ahead of the game. Sometimes he got his way through violence and torture. Sometimes it was speed. He’d captained a small sailing ship. He’d been a hermit more than once. Twenty years ago, he’d been a grand vizier to some idiot potentate.
But he was always the outsider. His skin marked him as someone different. He could never escape that difference. With modern technology, he could have dyed his skin and hair and blended in. He knew many of the languages now. He understood the culture better.
After the last blow-up, he fled and ran to these woods. There was always someone talking about crimes and evil and all that idiocy.
Maybe this next time, he’d work on avoiding being evil, just to make things harder, more interesting and to avoid the consequences. He was tired. He’d hit the road and play it by ear.
Flagg found himself in his cave mid bug-out. He’d been ruminating. That was happening more and more. Dangerous. Distractable.
Flagg bugged out and slipped out of the woods he’d called home for three years.
-*-
The town was along the river. Flagg figured he could catch a boat, put some kilometers on and then keep moving.
He was wearing a hooded cloak and gloves. He wrapped his face.
He found an Inn. A great way to catch whatever disease was stylish among the natives. He was resistant, of course. But the mites and bugs hadn’t gotten that message.
He paid for food, with a few carefully hoarded coins. He’d have to find someone who had too many and steal more. Later, when his exit path was clear.
-*-
“There!”
Flagg woke with a start, and whipped around. There was a brute squad. Someone recognized him, damnit.
Flagg leapt up and headed for the window. He unfastened it and slipped through.
The brutes were right behind him. When had they gotten so fast?
Flagg headed for the end of the alley.
Two more guys holding torches appeared to cut him off. Flagg attacked them.
It was harder than it should have been. LIke he was fighting Klingons or Nausicaans. It took a little longer than it should have. Damnit, he was weak and slow. Voices and shouting. It was excessive, but Flagg needed a distraction.
He took one of the torches and set the Inn alight. Once that got going, everyone would have more important things to think about than a skulking hobo.
-*-
Flagg hunkered down in a piece of stone work in a temple. The town was buzzing like a hive of hornets.
Flagg was working his way toward the river. If he could steal a small boat he could float away. If nothing else, he could swim for it.
Natives swarmed in groups, looking for him. The fire hadn’t distracted them. It activated them. They were angry.
Waiting for the coast to clear. Flagg moved and headed for the shadows
“There he is!”
Flagg ran. The adrenaline covered the pain, but he couldn’t run fast enough, damnit
When they caught him it was a confused dog pile. After he broke a couple of attackers someone got smart and grabbed his hands, Flagg didn’t remember much after that.
-*-
Water splashed his face. Flagg tried to move and found he couldn’t. He opened his eyes and really looked.
Then the pain set in. And it was a lot of pain.
He was tied to a big square piece of wood. The stocks. He’d been stripped to the waist.
“Speak, demon.”
It was native in a black robe with a shining, metal something or other. Flagg caught his reflection. His hair was white, long and matted. So was his beard. He was skinny. He was purple and black and blue all over. Some red spots.
When had he gotten so old?
“Speak, demon.”
Torture? Never mind, he’d been trained for that “John Flagg. Civilian. Citizen of Ekos” His last cover.
“Are you the demon that loosed the fire over Markelon township? That murdered the Eskelen family and so many others? That corrupted the autarch of Kerala Province?”
Flagg said “John Flagg, Civilian. Citizen of Ekos”
“Will anyone speak for the Demon?”
There was a silence.
“Without objection, I’ll render summary judgment.”
Everyone looked on. Things were getting very difficult for Flagg.
The Judge took a small axe.
Realization overtook Flagg. He’d built no allies. He’d cultivated no mutually beneficial relationships. No one was going to know or care if he died here. Flagg was incapable of feeling the intense loneliness someone else might feel at this realization. Flagg only saw this as a tactical and strategic error. He’d tried to arrange native underlings. He’d succeeded briefly in different places. But he could never instill any long-term loyalty and couldn’t understand why.
Flagg struggled against the hempen ropes. Somehow he was going to get out of this.
Hands grabbed his head from behind and pulled his head back against the wood. This was very bad. “No! No! NO!” Flagg struggled to find something to bargain with, to promise these mud people to change things.
“I… I can give you the stars…” He struggled.
“You bring only death, Demon. That ends now.”
The Judge chopped.
Surprise, horror, and rage filled John Flagg’s mind as his awareness faded.
He should have been the one. He should have been the hero.
-*-
It was meant for his grave to be unmarked.
But it grew unofficial markings, as Flaggs victims would seek out the location to spit on it. Urinate on it. Other things.
A few years later, it was dug up by parties unknown, and Flagg’s bones would be passed around as talismans of evil for centuries.
His backers knew the location of the world he’d been stranded on. They just never considered it worthwhile to send a mission to retrieve him. He was of no further use.
Flagg hid in a carefully selected hiding place and watched.
Hunters. A group of three, armed with muskets.
This was the third group in six weeks. That was too many. Someone had a clue there was a monster about. Or it might be a coincidence. Flagg didn’t believe in coincidences.
He waited until the hunters had moved on.
Then he left his hiding spot. It was getting harder to move. Everything hurt. Old injuries were coming back to haunt him.
He made a zig zag through his forest, checking for trackers before heading back to his cave. He picked up only what he needed, and put it into a worn pack, along with some carefully saved food and water.
All native stuff. Had been since the beginning. Flagg remembered fleeing and hiding and feeling like he was still in charge. He remembered the feeling of triumph when he realized the Marines had stopped chasing him. It took months. They were determined. That idiot Hailey probably took both of his ships down to danger level helping the godforsaken mud people of this godforsaken planet.
Flagg thought he’d won. He thought he’d escaped.
He looked up at the moon, it’s weather patterns swirling slowly in the sky. Once it was a short hop. A nothing little place not even worth visiting.
Now Flagg was trapped on the ground. He could no more travel to that moon than he could the Andromeda galaxy. He was stranded.
He’d spent endless hours watching the sky, looking for a telltale moving spark that meant space travelers had come once again. He’d seen nothing.
Rage washed over him. Controlling it was getting harder. Staying in the right mindset was getting harder.
Staying alive was The Mission. Surviving until somehow he was rescued. That was The Mission.
It had been thirty-five years.
Flagg always moved. He stayed ahead of the game. Sometimes he got his way through violence and torture. Sometimes it was speed. He’d captained a small sailing ship. He’d been a hermit more than once. Twenty years ago, he’d been a grand vizier to some idiot potentate.
But he was always the outsider. His skin marked him as someone different. He could never escape that difference. With modern technology, he could have dyed his skin and hair and blended in. He knew many of the languages now. He understood the culture better.
After the last blow-up, he fled and ran to these woods. There was always someone talking about crimes and evil and all that idiocy.
Maybe this next time, he’d work on avoiding being evil, just to make things harder, more interesting and to avoid the consequences. He was tired. He’d hit the road and play it by ear.
Flagg found himself in his cave mid bug-out. He’d been ruminating. That was happening more and more. Dangerous. Distractable.
Flagg bugged out and slipped out of the woods he’d called home for three years.
-*-
The town was along the river. Flagg figured he could catch a boat, put some kilometers on and then keep moving.
He was wearing a hooded cloak and gloves. He wrapped his face.
He found an Inn. A great way to catch whatever disease was stylish among the natives. He was resistant, of course. But the mites and bugs hadn’t gotten that message.
He paid for food, with a few carefully hoarded coins. He’d have to find someone who had too many and steal more. Later, when his exit path was clear.
-*-
“There!”
Flagg woke with a start, and whipped around. There was a brute squad. Someone recognized him, damnit.
Flagg leapt up and headed for the window. He unfastened it and slipped through.
The brutes were right behind him. When had they gotten so fast?
Flagg headed for the end of the alley.
Two more guys holding torches appeared to cut him off. Flagg attacked them.
It was harder than it should have been. LIke he was fighting Klingons or Nausicaans. It took a little longer than it should have. Damnit, he was weak and slow. Voices and shouting. It was excessive, but Flagg needed a distraction.
He took one of the torches and set the Inn alight. Once that got going, everyone would have more important things to think about than a skulking hobo.
-*-
Flagg hunkered down in a piece of stone work in a temple. The town was buzzing like a hive of hornets.
Flagg was working his way toward the river. If he could steal a small boat he could float away. If nothing else, he could swim for it.
Natives swarmed in groups, looking for him. The fire hadn’t distracted them. It activated them. They were angry.
Waiting for the coast to clear. Flagg moved and headed for the shadows
“There he is!”
Flagg ran. The adrenaline covered the pain, but he couldn’t run fast enough, damnit
When they caught him it was a confused dog pile. After he broke a couple of attackers someone got smart and grabbed his hands, Flagg didn’t remember much after that.
-*-
Water splashed his face. Flagg tried to move and found he couldn’t. He opened his eyes and really looked.
Then the pain set in. And it was a lot of pain.
He was tied to a big square piece of wood. The stocks. He’d been stripped to the waist.
“Speak, demon.”
It was native in a black robe with a shining, metal something or other. Flagg caught his reflection. His hair was white, long and matted. So was his beard. He was skinny. He was purple and black and blue all over. Some red spots.
When had he gotten so old?
“Speak, demon.”
Torture? Never mind, he’d been trained for that “John Flagg. Civilian. Citizen of Ekos” His last cover.
“Are you the demon that loosed the fire over Markelon township? That murdered the Eskelen family and so many others? That corrupted the autarch of Kerala Province?”
Flagg said “John Flagg, Civilian. Citizen of Ekos”
“Will anyone speak for the Demon?”
There was a silence.
“Without objection, I’ll render summary judgment.”
Everyone looked on. Things were getting very difficult for Flagg.
The Judge took a small axe.
Realization overtook Flagg. He’d built no allies. He’d cultivated no mutually beneficial relationships. No one was going to know or care if he died here. Flagg was incapable of feeling the intense loneliness someone else might feel at this realization. Flagg only saw this as a tactical and strategic error. He’d tried to arrange native underlings. He’d succeeded briefly in different places. But he could never instill any long-term loyalty and couldn’t understand why.
Flagg struggled against the hempen ropes. Somehow he was going to get out of this.
Hands grabbed his head from behind and pulled his head back against the wood. This was very bad. “No! No! NO!” Flagg struggled to find something to bargain with, to promise these mud people to change things.
“I… I can give you the stars…” He struggled.
“You bring only death, Demon. That ends now.”
The Judge chopped.
Surprise, horror, and rage filled John Flagg’s mind as his awareness faded.
He should have been the one. He should have been the hero.
-*-
It was meant for his grave to be unmarked.
But it grew unofficial markings, as Flaggs victims would seek out the location to spit on it. Urinate on it. Other things.
A few years later, it was dug up by parties unknown, and Flagg’s bones would be passed around as talismans of evil for centuries.
His backers knew the location of the world he’d been stranded on. They just never considered it worthwhile to send a mission to retrieve him. He was of no further use.
Re: Final Flagg
So he ends up running his whole life, and totally forgotten by anything he cared about in his twisted mind. Run down and brutally executed by the people he pointlessly harmed.
I can see Hailey. Flagg is on the surface? Pack it up, let's go.
I can see Hailey. Flagg is on the surface? Pack it up, let's go.
-- The Innkeeper
-
jayphailey
- Posts: 1578
- Joined: Tue May 29, 2018 7:50 pm
Re: Final Flagg
H-Prime stayed too long letting the Marines hunt. He feels responsible for the people Flagg harmed.
But that's exactly the kind of thing Flagg trained in and specialized for. Escape and evasion. After the trail went cold, they had to admit it was a waste of time.
Also, he was a very good hacker, but Gerald Bruce is better and many of the rest of crew are competitive. Flagg's edge is that his backers gave him back door codes for everything.
Li'ira considered giving the survivors of the city the small arms from the Ekosian ship. They were motivated and had time.
The survivors of the city are the ones who spread the lore of "The Demon" that kept chasing Flagg around. Once he revealed himself to be an amoral goal-directed sociopath everyone around goes "Pink skin? Kills casually? Hey! YOU'RE THE DEMON!" and he has to run again.
Until the day when he just can't run fast enough and hard enough.
After stripping the Melakon for fuel, consumables and anything useful in repairs, the wreck was dumped into the local primary.
-
jayphailey
- Posts: 1578
- Joined: Tue May 29, 2018 7:50 pm
Re: Final Flagg
By metaphor, Flagg is a level 16+ Rogue with and added "Data Penetration" ability.
Add a couple of levels of Monk, in there. Maybe more.
Add a couple of levels of Monk, in there. Maybe more.
Re: Final Flagg
If monks ran on anger. A Shaolin Master would take his attitude and make him eat it.jayphailey wrote: ↑Wed Jan 01, 2025 5:53 amBy metaphor, Flagg is a level 16+ Rogue with and added "Data Penetration" ability.
Add a couple of levels of Monk, in there. Maybe more.
Flagg ran on Sociopath. Good at a lot but never quite the master. But, will to do things in a totally amoral manner.
If Jerry had run into him he would have eaten a bullet so fast.
-- The Innkeeper
-
jayphailey
- Posts: 1578
- Joined: Tue May 29, 2018 7:50 pm
Re: Final Flagg
The people who think its a thing to use Flagg as a fire and forget weapon of foreign influence are who bug me.
But in E-Trek, most of those people were purged and the rest are laying way low.
But in E-Trek, most of those people were purged and the rest are laying way low.
Re: Final Flagg
They make new ones.jayphailey wrote: ↑Thu Jan 02, 2025 5:50 amThe people who think its a thing to use Flagg as a fire and forget weapon of foreign influence are who bug me.
But in E-Trek, most of those people were purged and the rest are laying way low.
Flagg is not dumb and Jerry was old news even then. His best defense is not being in the same sector and he would know it.
-- The Innkeeper
-
jayphailey
- Posts: 1578
- Joined: Tue May 29, 2018 7:50 pm
Re: Final Flagg
Definitely not presenting as Flagg, and moving away ASAP
Re: Final Flagg
jayphailey wrote: ↑Fri Jan 03, 2025 5:22 amDefinitely not presenting as Flagg, and moving away ASAP
The Ane still got him.
-- The Innkeeper