THE SONS OF LIBERTY

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

THE SONS OF LIBERTY: Beginning Events

    It is the 26th century. The United Federation of Planets, in an attempt to combat discrimination between humanoids, has recently ordained the first Romulan ever to be President of the Federation. Although the President originally campaigned under the well-known slogan “None Too High for Law, None Too Low for Liberty,” he has done much to expand the powers of the Presidency and has thus far violated several laws passed by the Senate. Many Federation Senators have become uneasy as their power has been encroached upon, and hard feelings have arisen between the Legislative and Executive branches.
    Some Federation members have grown suspicious of the President’s actions and have spoken out against his ambition. Three parties have formed as a result of this abuse of power: the Secessionists (who advocate breaking ties with the Federation), the Revolutionaries (who advocate violent Federation reform), and the Loyalists (who believe in peaceful reformation of the Federation. The majority follows the Loyalist Party, but with every questionable action of the President, the other parties are gaining support.
    But now the Loyalists have discovered a tragic truth: the President is an agent working for the broken Romulan Star Empire, determined to destroy the Federation from the inside out through dissention, bitterness, and tyranny. In an attempt to arouse public patriotism for the Federation, The Loyalists have revealed the President’s true purpose to the rest of the Senate. Yet now a fourth party has been formed—the “Greater Loyalists”—whose main function is to silence all other parties in an attempt to continue the President’s diabolical plot.
    In desperation, the Revolutionaries, the Secessionists, and the Loyalists have formed a new combined party—the Libertarians—and have secretly called on the mighty Phoenix Command Group to aid them. Captain Johnnyred—hesitant to join a conflict not directly involving him—has nonetheless agreed to command a small fleet to help the Libertarians to reform the Federation as peacefully as possible. This fleet—nicknamed the “Sons of Liberty,” is actually a group of volunteers from various organizations and governments, so that the Greater Loyalists might not be able to entirely accurately claim that the PCG alone is making war on the twisted Federation. The Sons of Liberty is on its way to the headquarters of the enfeebled Romulan Empire, determined to bring an end to the plot at its origin and then to invade Earth and capture the pseudo-President.
   The galaxy is on the edge of its seat as the PCG and faithful Federation members take up arms against an old enemy of liberty and justice.

---

FIRST "SCENE"

The Sons of Liberty fleet is heading toward the Romulan Empire capital. Multiple ships are joined to this fleet, including a ship from the Romulan Republic, the RRW Alth'Indor. There is conversation among the commanders of these ships on the intercom. Commander Gresh Turson, in charge of the PCS Liberty in Commander Scarecrow's absence, takes a sip of his scalding-hot, Navy-style coffee.

"Well, gentlemen, it seems we are off to a peaceful start. Do you think it's safe enough for y'all to come aboard the Liberty and have a cup of this fine coffee with me?"

[Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)]

Jace, who prefers his coffee in the Marine fashion, converses with the captian of the superdreadnought GTNS Manticore. "If you want to, captain, feel free to do so, though if you get shot during transit, it's your own hide, and we will continue operations without you."

The captain, a slightly bigoted Streflicon, considered the Murictel General-a General of Marines, no less-to be out of his league, with zero political skills whatsoever. How he attained that rank I will never know... "Alright, General, I will be the one to act as diplomat for the Triumvirate, as I doubt the Marine's demeanor would be appropriate in such an environment...

OoC: Can we kill off the useless NPC squid, please? Romulan attack, shuttle malfunction on the return trip, etc.? I need an excuse to have a Marine General in charge of a Navy SDN (superdreadnought).

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

A young First Lieutenant strides up to Commander Turson.

"Sir," he says. "The Manticore is preparing to beam over her captain."

"Very well," replies Turson. "I hope the others will come, too."


[OoC: As long as you are killing off your own NPC character, you may do so anytime you wish. ]

[Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)]

As the beaming process starts, a ship-wide communique is sent out informing the ship of the red-shirted captain's departure, interrupting the frequency [OoC: I have no idea how these beam transport things work, so...], and the captain is forever lost in the oblivion of space. General Jace stands on the bridge, swearing at the malfunction while thanking his personal diety for the captain's death, albeit painless.
"...I kept telling those sailors that these ridiculous comuniques were going to create problems. No matter. Commander, you have the permament con, but I'm in command."
"Aye, General."
"Also, send a dispatch to Turson, thanking him for the invite, informing him that the loss of our captain was nothing to do with his side of the operation, and I would personally like to shake his hand for inadvertently setting up the end of that bigot."
"Erm, aye aye, General. Should I reject the coffee, then?"
"Hm? One moment." Jace walks over to the Comms station, pulls up the ship's master file of ship-wide announcement requirements, deletes the file, removes the hard drive after backing up all the other files, and crushes it with his bare hands. "Feel free, Commander."

[OoC: I figure we might as well show that the Grelfucans are still a tad bit behind compared to the rest of the galaxy. At least in space. Don't mess with them on the ground.]

[Andre TholvelCEO]

[OOC]Where am I, and what ship would you like me to be in? The largest ship I have at the moment is the Terminus, which is only three hundred thirty meters. The Sentinel MkII, a significantly larger ship, will be posted in a little while, but that's all I have right now.

Also, am I the only one who feels an urge to see that intro in big yellow letters scrolling up against a black starfield? [/OOC]

[JohnnyredCaptain (PCG)]

{OOC} @ Arc - Squid? {/END OOC}

Captain Johnnyred sits at the same table as Commander Turson, having already beamed over, and stares out the window at the PCG 3500 Paladin. He had chosen this vessel over the much smaller Texas because of it's immense speed and sheer power.

He looks over at Commander Turson, smiles and picks up his Starbucks iced peppermint mocha. Of course, my friend. Our bridge crews are more than competent enough to take care of our ships until we're ready to beam back.

[Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)]

[OoC: Yeah, y'know, sailor/squid, swabbie, other Marine jargon I can't say.]

[KojanHigh Admiral (CIR)]

"Incoming!" screamed Major Jaeger Schultz through his gas mask. Troops threw themselves down onto the ground or pressed themselves against the wall of the trench. Incoming artillery shells, spewing  green spores, began raining down along the entrenchment about fifty meters away from his position. Most landed harmlessly in front of the trench or in the dirt mounds separating the first and second trench rows, but a devastating few landed among the troops in the trench, and the result was not pretty.

"Get the covers!" Jaeger urgently ordered the troops around him. Setting down their shotguns and SMGs, the soldiers climbed out of the trench in the direction of the second trench. Hastily they undid a securing mounts and reeled in the camouflage tarp disguising none other than an Enforcer Mk. II Main Battle Tank. With a roar, the tank's fusion engine came to life, and the tank rolled forward. All of the way down the defensive line, infantry crews were performing the same maneuver that Jaeger's men had, and now tens of dozens of tanks (mostly Enforcers, but a few "Clear Skies" were mixed in as well) were rolling out of the trench and towards the enemy lines.

This was much to the surprise of Plague troops, who had begun advancing through No Man's Land under the cover of the artillery barrage. They had been expecting nothing more than infantry, and the sudden appearance of the armored companies gave them pause, and then sudden, hasty retreat

With a lion's shout, the men of the trenches shouted and began pouring over the lip. The clattering of AutoGuns, both vehicle-mounted and infantry small-arms, almost, but not quite, drowned out the Imperial artillery as the specialty napalm shells began raining down on the Plague trenches. One million soldiers, an entire Army, stretched across a five-mile battle line, charged, shouting with all of their might.

Using the Enforcer his men uncovered as a source of cover, Jaeger ran behind the tank until he and his men came across the first line of Plague trenches. From the napalm artillery fire and tank fire alone, the trench was about 50% clear, but there was still dirty work to do. Jumping down into the trench, Jaeger has his feet swiped out from under him by a Plague trooper. On his back, Jaeger quickly fired three rounds into the enemy trooper's face and, grabbing his helmet, scrambled back onto his feet. Turning to his left he fired into the torso of a Plague Abomination that had been about to spear on of Jaeger's men with its deadly wrist scythes. Knocked off its feet, the Abomination made an effort to get up, but not before another Imperial Infantryman finished it off with his Slayer motorized bayonet. Slapping the man on his shoulder, Jaeger offered a muttered, "Good work," before continuing on with his work.

By the end of the day, the counter-offensive had been a resounding success for the Empire. The Army had broken through the Plague lines with causalities only in the low thousands, of which only about 500 had been Plague infections. Zezeth, one of Pumilius Pumilio Ager's largest cities, and the focus of the campaign, was now within reach of the Empire. Once the city was taken, the AAA installations could be retaken and the Imperial starships in orbit could get low enough to provide extremely accurate air-to-ground bombardment and could and to disgorge more supplies.

Sitting in his command tent, Jaeger was coordinating the defensive position construction projects on his datapad when Xen Anderson, his close friend and the CO of the 24000th Company walked in.

"We did good today, Jag," he grinned under his mask, settling himself into the folding chair across from Jaeger. Jaeger, noticing the more upbeat tone of Xen's voice, also grinned, setting down his datapad and extending his hand.

"I think today will serve as a reminder to Them that they can't just take any planet they want without us coming back to kick some serious butt," he laughed. Shaking his hand, Xen also gave a chuckle before taking a swig out of his canteen.

"How were losses?" he asked more somberly as he recapped his canteen, his smile fading, as did Jaeger's.
"I lost fifteen good men and women today. One of them, I think his name was Gejeff, got into a melee duel with one of Them and had his gas mask knocked off and... You know what They do if get your mask knocked off near one of them. I'll be writing home to their families tonight. It's not something I take pleasure in doing."
"Of course. Speaking of gas masks, have the Cleanser Squads given us the go ahead for us to get these things off?"

Picking up his datapad again, Jaeger scrolled through the command update messages. "Hmm. Ah, yes, we have. The crews have done their job, and Intel says that Their artillery can't reach us here. Apparently the artillery units that we destroyed when taking the trenches were all they had in this and the surrounding sectors. I imagine they'll have some once we get to Zezeth, but for now we're good."

Peeling off his mask, Xen let out a sigh. "It's nice being able to breath in natural, unfiltered air after wearing this thing for a week."
"That 'thing' was the only thing protecting you from the spores, Xen. But, yes, I do suppose it's nice," Jaeger allowed.

Yawning, Xen got up and stretched. "Those letters aren't going to write themselves. Nice talking to you, Jaeger. See ya' tomorrow."
"Have a good night, Xen," Jaeger said as Xen walked out of the tent flap.

Looking down at his 'pad, Jaeger sighed. No, those letter's won't write themselves. Slowly, he began to type.

[JohnnyredCaptain (PCG)]

{OOC} @ Kojan - Can't wait to see how that fits in. {END OOC}

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

Captain Vardok S'ren replies to the hail
    "It would be my pleasure to join you in person. Although I can assure you that the Romulan Star Empire already has cloaked warbirds observing us, if they intended to confront us openly in the immediate future, they would have already done so. They either wish to gather more information, or more forces to respond to a group of ships this size. I will be aboard your vessel shortly Commander."
     Vardok rose from his chair and walked off the bridge. What am I doing about to enter Imperial Romulan Space? They'll never admit anything... But what choice did I have? he tapped the button and waited for the turbolift. What choice indeed. The Federation is tearing itself apart. I have conflicting orders from over a dozen different people, non of which could possibly have helped the situation. 'Head to Earth at maximum warp to restore order from these traitorous senators.' 'Ignore those orders, remain where you are, do not get involved.' 'Head to the Neutral Zone to prevent imminent invasion.' 'All Romulan officers are to stand down and surrender command of their ships at once.' 'Proceed to DS-93 to prepare to take the traitor president into custody.' 'If you want justice and freedom, join us in our effort to overthrow this tyrannical government, if you don't you will be considered a traitor to the ideals of the Federation.' The turbolift arrived, and Vardok stepped in,
    "Transporter room three." So I did the only thing I could, I contacted the one organization to whom I owe loyalty that isn't in turmoil right now, The Romulan Republic. I asked them what to do to truly be of help in resolving matters. And it turns out that they had been contacted by someone within the Federation who was thinking clearly' if you can call going to the capital of the Romulan Star Empire to investigate thinking clearly.
    The turbolift came to a stop and the doors opened. Vardok walked down the hall, headed into the transporter room, stepped onto the pad, and gave the go-ahead to the chief.
Well, here I am, disobeying fourteen direct orders, about to cross the Neutral Zone, going to ask or take answers from the Raptor... let's hope our deaths are not in vain, because I see no possibility of us coming across the Neutral Zone alive again.
And with those pleasant thoughts, Vardok beamed from the Alth'Indor to the Liberty.

[TalmidCommander (PCG)]

The USS Burlington, a Federation England Class Battlecruiser is one of the multiple starships also among the Sons of Liberty Fleet on its way to the Romulan capitol. Commanded by Captain Gary Vermont, former first officer to Fleet Captain Talmid, the Captain has a lot of experience when it comes to dealing with obnoxious ( ) officers.

But from what he's yet seen from the PCG, Gary knows that these PCG officers are by no means in his experience level. Compared that Fleet Captain he used to fly with to these guys, Fleet Captain Talmid is a nobody.

With a gulp and a silent plea for almighty help, Captain Gary Vermont responds to Commander Gresh Turson's hail. "Affirmative." To his own interstarship communications system, he says, "Transporter Room 1, prepare an escort team for intership transport, code official."

"Yes, sir," Transporter 1 Chief Lieutenant Mater acknowledges, "we will be expecting you."

[JohnnyredCaptain (PCG)]

"By the way, Gresh." Johnnyred says. "I have several more of my ships coming in to aid the Sons of Liberty fleet. Two more Paladins, the 3501 Roland and the 3510 Samson along with the PCG 2200 Argo for an intimidation factor. Glad I never gave the Feddies anything with WMT. Then three Andromedas, the PCG 2300 Andromeda, PCG 2301 Gideon, and the PCG 2302 Yaminami. I think that should be intimidating enough. With a Wave Motion Gun staring them down, they'll probably need a fresh pair of pants."

Majors Locke Highwind and Steve Johnson along with Lieutenant Commander Chuck Conway and the Adventure Comix team walk into the briefing room.

"I hope you don't mind some of my crew being present. These are my most trusted friends and my close and valuable right hands. I wouldn't trade them for the combined crews of the NX-01 Enterprise, the Enterprise-D, the Voyager, or the Deep Space 9."

[RememberMMRecruit (No Affiliation)]

Captain Linus Victorson sits down in his command chair and sighs, rubbing his face with his hands. That was the briefest briefing I've ever had. I don't even know this President guy's name! My ship is over a hundred years old. It's in no shape to participate in an invasion of the Romulan Empire!

A woman in an ensign's uniform comes up to him. "Captain, Commander Turson requests your presence on his ship."

"Thank you, ensign Schmidt. Inform the commander that I will be right over."

With that he gets up from his chair and heads towards the transporter bays.

I wouldn't trade them for the combined crews of the NX-01 Enterprise, the Enterprise-D, the Voyager, or the Deep Space 9."

OOC: Yeah, I don't think a bunch of old dead guys would be of much help on this mission either.

[ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)]

OOC: YOU JERK!!!! YOU POST THE RPG JUST AFTER I START WORK, AND LET THEM ALL GET IN ALL THESE POSTS BEFORE I CAN EVEN GET ON! AND SUCH ON RPG! THIS WILL BE AWESOME!!!!! (and a very well written plot starter I might say. better than most RPGs if I do say so.)

*Tyson Malcor, a Yaka Empire Imperial Marine of the 6th Marines, flew his Predator MK IV Fighter alongside the Liberty, hovering just a little ways infront of it's bridge. It's four massive gattling guns stood out more than anything else on it, ugly humps containing deadly power hard that was, quite frankly, hard to fathom for anyone. The large fighter was all lean muscle and towering bone structure. It was a large fighter, with advance cooling systems, four huge engines, the afore mentioned primary weapons, and missiles lining just about anywhere there was room. In addition there where two plasma beam cannons which could rip right through a captial ship's armor. The fighter was covered in about a foot of dense armor, and had a sizeable shield generator to complement it. It was, by far, the most expensive fighter to yet be made, which is why there where currently fewer than a hundred of them. Tyson's was the original, one he built himself, no expense spared. The dreadnought was a perfect image of it's owner. Tyson was already a huge man, but after his Marine enhancements, he was a dreadnought himself. Powered armor, massive weapons, and a 8 foot 7 inch tall frame rippling with muscles formed as formidable a sight on the ground as the fighter did in space. The fighter continued to fly alongside the Liberty as Tyson hailed the Liberty.* "This is Tyson Malcor of the Yaka Empire Imperial Marines requesting permission to land aboard your ship. I'm supposed to be on leave but unfortuantly there was a mistake on Fortune V and I was booked into a room that was already occupied. As I'm sure you know, reservations for anything close to Fortune V take atleast three years, so I have nowhere to go. I noticed this was a rag-tag group headed by the PCG, and the PCG always manages to find fun somewhere. So I'ld like to join your little expedition if I may."

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

OOC ^^^ Spartan much? OOC

[ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)]

OOC: Have you read his profile? Oh yeah, I actually made said fighter, but it's lost on my thumbdrive, so I can't prove it. But yeah, he's a HALO Spartan/Navy SEAL/WH40K Marine, and then he went and joined Yaka, and became even bigger and better.

[Andre TholvelCEO]

As the rag-tag group of miscellaneous vessels slowly drifts through space, five very small ships drop out of hyperspace-- a DI Idril class frigate identified as the IFS Rising Sun, followed by two DI Falcon class frigates and two DI Varda class corvettes. As stated, the ships are very small, no more than 310 meters at longest. The IFS Rising Sun hails the Liberty.

"This is Admiral Siriondil Daragon, CEO of Daragon Incorporated, personally speaking. I would like to contact Commander Gresh Turson, along with anyone else who might be of authority over this group, as I imagine there are many, considering the widely varied company present."

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

[OOC: WOW!!! I need to be present more often if I want to be a good Game Mod! But honestly these posts seem to work together pretty well, so it won't be hard to catch up. ]

*Commander Gresh Turson orders another round of beverages for his guests, and rises to salute as Captain S'ren enters the room.*

"Ah, Captain, welcome aboard!" says Turson. "We have a number of very enticing drinks here, all of them coffee-related. I trust your Romulan tastes will abide this earthly tradition?"

*First Lieutenant William Smythe (the same first lieutenant who addressed Turson on the bridge) enters the dining room.*

"Commander," says he. "Admiral Daragon of Daragon, Incorporated; Captain Linus Victorson; and Captain Gary Vermont have all responded in the affirmative to your invitation. They are requesting to beam aboard."

"By all means, let them!" exclaims Turson. "Waiter, another round of coffees!"

"Sir," says Lieutenant Smythe. "I beg to report also that a certain Tyson Malcor has requested to board the Liberty."

"Never heard of him," replies Turson.

"He's from the Yaka Empire," says Smythe. "He wants to join our group because he is looking for some action. And may I say, sir, that his fighter is so intimidating, I think it would be unwise to turn him down."

"Give him the affirmative, Smythe," says Turson. "The Yaka Empire has always been known for its brave warriors, and we may need many of those before this voyage is over!"

*In time, all are assembled around the dining table, cordially chatting and drinking their beverages. Turson rises.*

"Gentlemen," says the Commander. "I am pleased to see such a large turnout. I regret sorely that Jace's captain was lost (though I must say that Jace himself seems very nonchalant about the whole affair), but aside from this we have gathered here with no incident. Let us have a toast. To Liberty, Life, and--"

*An urgent voice speaks over the intercom.*

"Commander," it says. "This is the bridge. Three Romulan warbirds are hailing us. They are not from the Romulan Republic. Your presence is wanted on the bridge."

"Gah! I should've heeded your warning, Captain," says Turson to S'ren. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I think this pleasant meeting has come to an end. For those of us who are PCG members, await orders from Johnnyred as to further action. For those remaining, it would be prudent for you to return to your ships."

*Turson heads for the bridge, followed by Lieutenant Smythes.*

[OOC: Kojan, I too look forward to seeing how that plays into the story. The more subplots, the better! ]

[ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)]

*Tyson relaxes in his chair, sipping his smoothie, which appeared to be the only non-caffinated beverage at the table. He hadn't had a leave in years, and he was rather sore that his reservations at the highly relaxing (aside from being on gaurd against his carnal side) Fortune V resort planet. He had spotted the group on his flight back, and had hoped that they may be heading for some fun and games, as the PCG was known to do quite often. But just as often, or rather more often, they where often headed into trouble. He hadn't had much other choice if he wanted a vacation however, and so he had joined them hoping they where just relaxing as well. It seemed however that they where on yet another mission, and he couldn't simply leave them. He sent out a communique to his commander informing him of his change of plans and filed all the proper paperwork (that which his commander couldn't file for him. His commander had offered to handle problems or paperwork that came up whilst Tyson was gone, having a great appreciation for his service). Tyson returned his datapad to it's spot on his wrist/holder and sighed.* Works just never quits.... Well, if you need me gentlemen, just give me a hollar. *With that Tyson hands his empty beverage to the waiter and returns to the hanger to begin some post-flight maintenance.*

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

*Commander Gresh Turson orders another round of beverages for his guests, and rises to salute as Captain S'ren enters the room.*

"Ah, Captain, welcome aboard!" says Turson. "We have a number of very enticing drinks here, all of them coffee-related. I trust your Romulan tastes will abide this earthly tradition?"

Vardok smiles, "Commander, when one serves as a Captain in Starfleet for ninety-two years, one learns that caffeinated beverages are not merely a pleasure, but a necessity." He takes a mug of coffee, adds a spoon of sugar, a small container of Synthehol, and two packets of cream, stirs it for a minute, and then takes a sip. "Mmm, good coffee."

For the rest of the meeting, Vardok talks with other members at the table.

*An urgent voice speaks over the intercom.*

"Commander," it says. "This is the bridge. Three Romulan warbirds are hailing us. They are not from the Romulan Republic. Your presence is wanted on the bridge."

"Gah! I should've heeded your warning, Captain," says Turson to S'ren. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I think this pleasant meeting has come to an end. For those of us who are PCG members, await orders from Johnnyred as to further action. For those remaining, it would be prudent for you to return to your ships."

*Turson heads for the bridge, followed by Lieutenant Smythes.*

"Careful!" Vardok calls to Commander Turson as he leaves, "there are either more warbirds out there, or more on the way. At best we can hope that they're bluffing about their numbers, but I doubt it as those three ship's have probably been following us since we crossed the Neutral Zone, they waited this long for a reason, likely for backup."

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

*Commander Turson thanks Captain S'ren for his advice, and asks Tyson Malcor to accompany him to the Bridge.*

When Turson and Malcor arrive on the Bridge, three Romulan warbirds are before them on the viewing screen. Turson takes his seat at the Captain's chair, and glances at a scratched-in motto on the right armrest: Libertati Semper, Liberty Always. Commander Scarecrow had scratched it there during a very dull patrol run, and ever since then the motto had been formally displayed at various points on the ship.*

"So did they drop out of warp?" asked the Commander.

"No sir," replied a Chief Petty Officer. "They just appeared there. Obviously cloaked."

"Just as Captain S'ren predicted," muttered Turson.

"They are continuing to hail us, sir," said the Chief.

"On screen," replied Turson.

*The smiling, dastardly face of a male Romulan captain appeared. He casually saluted.*

"Well, well, well!" he chuckled. "What do we have here? A group of galactic bounty hunters? Well, I must inform you that you are about to cross the territory of the illustrious Romulan Star Empire. If you turn around now, we will not assail you, but if you do not desist, well, let us say that there are four other Warbirds around you that will destroy you one by one."

*Commander Turson chuckles to himself. "Oh indeed?" he thinks. "What can your warbirds do against such a fleet of mighty vessels?"*

"I'm sure you would like to talk to my superior officer," Turson replies. "He will be up shortly."

"Why, thank you, Commander," smiles the Romulan. "I eagerly await his arrival."

*Turson fidgets in his seat, irritated by the ridiculous front the Romulan was putting up.*

"Smythe," he says, turning to the Lieutenant. "If he has not already left for the Paladin, please ask Captain Johnnyred to join me on the Bridge."

"Aye, aye, Commander!" salutes Smythe.

*Smythe leaves the bridge in search of Johnnyred.*

[JohnnyredCaptain (PCG)]

(OOC) We'll assume Smythe found me and I have just made my way to the bridge with Blacklight13, Junior, and Fluffy the Fleebnork. (END OOC)

"What is it, Comnander, Smythe here said you needed me?"

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

*Turson rises and offers the Captain his seat.*

"Yes sir," he replies. "This Romulan Captain is warning us not to trespass on Star Empire territory. Since you are my superior officer, I felt that it would only be right for him to speak to you."

"Why, if it isn't Captain Johnnyred of the mighty Phoenix Command Group!" the Romulan captain exclaims as Johnnyred enters. "What might you and your motley crew be doing so armed and so close to our glorious Empire?"

[ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)]

*Tyson makes no outward sign, but inwardly he arches his eyebrow.* The Argo, a couple of Andromeda class ships, and the rest of the group, versus seven war-birds. They are out-sized, out-numbered, out-powered, and out-gunned. And they honestly think they can destroy us? Who do they think they're bulffing? *Tyson waits for Commander Turson to cut communications for the time being and then asks him.* "Do any of your ships have cloaking capabilities?"

[Andre TholvelCEO]

[OOC]Actually, I didn't request permission to beam aboard, I asked to speak to Turson, to offer my services free of charge. However, as that seems to have been taken, and my character introduction skipped, I guess I'm aboard anyway. xD[/OOC]

Siriondil Daragon stands from the table. "Good hunting, sirs," he addresses the group with a grave nod, as if he knew exactly what was going on. Walking towards the door, he suddenly stops and, still staring straight ahead, gives a sharp, "Clear."

Two Noghri warriors silently appear from two shadowed corners of the room, where they had entered and stood guard completely unnoticed by anyone in the room, as Noghri are apt to do. Taking up flanking positions behind the CEO, the short, wiry, grey bodyguards follow him out as he takes the exactly fastest route to the transport room, seeming to know every twist and turn of the corridors by heart.

Once on the IFS Rising Sun, Siriondil returns to the bridge. "Begin a slow flanking maneuver around the warbirds," he says, not taking his eyes off the forward viewport of the tiny Idril class frigate, "we'll give them something to think about." A chorus of "Yessir!" sounds through the bridge, as the Rising Sun and its four escorts begin a very slow course that will take them on a wide circle of the Romulan vessels. "Comm MP1-SN1 and -SN2 and have them stand by," he says to his comms officer, "inform the Captains that the situation appears to be somewhat fragile, and is expected to degenerate in several minutes."

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