Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

[OOC to Dino: LOVE TO SEE ALL THAT POST!!!! I am looking forward to the culmination of your subplot! END OOC]

[OOC to Supe: I will be PM-ing you ASAP, I hope tonight. END OOC]

*Turson speaks to Gary.*

"An excellent suggestion, Captain. Using a little of their own medicine on them ought to prove quite effective."

*to himself* "Now where is Captain Johnnyred?"

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

OOC actually, it will be subplotS as I'll be rejoining the main fleet soon, then heading off again End OOC

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

[OOC: I don't really care how you do it. It's exciting either way. END OOC]

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

As the recon groups from the Grelfucans and Daragon, Inc. set out on their brave and dangerous quests, Commander Turson's confidence proves to be ill-founded. Little does he know that the assault on Rator III will not be the glorious battle one reads of in poems of valor and death. The worst will soon come.

Meanwhile, aboard the Liberty itself, an unexplained blackout in the brig has sent the chief petty officer in charge to investigate the causes, leaving merely two guards left to make sure the confined Ensign Sl'indor does not escape.

Unheard and unseen, a shrouded figure sneaks behind the guards and deftly, quietly knocks them unconscious. Sl'indor looks up, and although he can see a vague suggestion of a PCG uniform, he cannot see the face of the figure.

"Who are you?" he asks, not sure whether to think of this intruder as a friend or foe.

"Nevermind who I am," says the figure. "Just call me a friend. Do you want to escape?"

"This is a trick, I'm sure," says Sl'indor.

"Do you want to escape or not?" snaps the figure.

The Ensign pauses for a moment.

"What were you thinking?" he asks the figure.

The latter smiles, though this is not seen in the shadows. "You'll see, Sl'indor. You'll see. A Romulan ship will beam you off this vessel. Oh, don't worry. They're quite undetected. There is a cloacked warbird that has been tracking this group of fools ever since it left the PCG territory. It will beam you aboard as soon as I disable your forcefield. But first, I need you to tell them some information...."

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

OOC enter Emperor Palpatine Throne-room theme. End OOC

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

[OOC: Or the Twilight Zone music. END OOC]

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

OOC Twilight Emperor!!!! Okay... no more crazy off topic post form me for a day or so.. End OOC

[Andre TholvelCEO]

[OOC] RANDOM NERDY STAR WARS CORRECTION OF THE DAY: The "Throne Room" music is what plays as Luke and Han are given medals, not what plays for Palpatine, which is a variation of the Imperial March.

THIS HAS BEEN YOUR RANDOM NERDY STAR WARS CORRECTION OF THE DAY.
[/OOC]

[TalmidCommander (PCG)]

*the doors to the Burlington's bridge slide open and a returning Gary.... well, returns*

"Lieutenant," he says, addressing Ever'oyne. "Prepare to open an encrypted message to Alpha Centauri Fleet Yards."

"Yes sir. Channel open, maximum encryption."

*the view screen turns on, showing the face of Fleet Captain Talmid.*

"Ah, if it isn't my former first officer." Talmid says smugly from his side of the galaxy. The Fleet Captain sits at a desk on a starbase within the cluster of space docks and other various stations that make up Alpha Centauri Fleet Yards. Despite his facial expression, Gary can tell that Talmid doesn't like sitting at a desk in a starbase, and would much rather be sitting on a starship.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Fleet Captain." Gary says with a smile, which promptly dissaperas once introductions are finished. "Getting down to business, I trust the Talmidon still has a cloaking device installed?"

Talmid pouts. "The Federation Praetor's influence reaches far and wide within Star Fleet. The recent law on cloaking devices has affected all battleships, even the Talmidon, which I couldn't save. Sorry old girl."

It takes a few moments for Gary to realize that Talmid is referring to his ship. "Surely the fleet still has some ships of even any type equipped with cloaks."

Talmid's eyes shift to the edges of the screen and around his room, before he continues. "Well, as long as you mention it, we could get you some cloaked ships, but.... well, they're not really ships."

Gary's eyebrows raise. "Are they armed?"

"State of the art, top of the line, but stock Star Falcon IVs. I might be able to get Dave to install cloaks on them, but I'm still thinking of where we'd even get them from." Talmid explains.

"Build them." Gary suggests.

"Not a bad idea.... When will you need this cloaked firepower?"

"Estimating how long it will take for us to arrive at the capital, three days on standard warp drive."

"I'll get them to you in two days."

"How?"

"Don't ask."

"Oh, okay.... thank you, Fleet Captain."

"No prob."

[ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)]

*Tyson, roaming about attempting to familarize himself with the ship, turns a corner rather quickly and runs smack bang into Daragon, who promtly is knocked flat on his rear (as would anyone who runs into an 8'6" cinderblock of a Marine at a fast walk).* My apoligies sir. *Tyson extends a hand out to help Daragon up.*

OOC: @supe: hint hint, execute plans from the PM here.

[Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)]

[OoC: This is just to make sure I don't get another PM from Scare saying I should keep involved. I'm working on my actual subplot for the recce team, though. /OoC]

Generals Jace returns to the GVN Fleet to give the briefing to the Blacktalons as Admiral Slisko works on a plan to get the Blacktalons aboard a civilian vessel travelling to Rator III.

Too bad Jay'buir and Uncle Thom aren't here. They'd have all of this taken care of in a matter of minutes... the admiral ponders to himself as he gathers and evaluates the data given to him by recce drones sent into Romulan space earlier, luckily undetected by traditional sensors.
...

Meanwhile, General Slisko works with the GV's engineering corps to create somewhat improved gear for the inserting Blacktalons.

"Sir, are you sure we can't just send in Kyr'galaare?" the engineer asks after being told what was requested of him.

"Sadly, I'm sure, Mas'Chief. But I at least plan on having a Squad of them ready for action if necessary. SOP on that one, though-no modifications. Should be interesting to see if Romulan sensors are anything like our own...their shipboard weapons sure aren't."

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

[OOC to Jace: I have an important PM to send you before you take further action. Unless Supe has already sent you a PM I sent him, you need to know a basic idea of some of the things you'll find when you get to Rator III, and I also have a comment to make. END OOC]

*Turson sits at his desk, reading his Bible, the only thing that can comfort him under great stress. The "doorbell" rings, and Turson reaches over and presses a button on his desk.*

"Who is it?" he asks.

"Chief Petty Officer Jong, sir," replies a voice. "Requesting permission to enter and discuss an emergency with the Commander."

"Enter, Chief," says Turson.

*The doors slide open, and in walks CPO Jong, NCO of the Brig. He stops in front of Turson's desk and salutes.*

"At ease, Jong," smiles Turson, though his smile soon fades as he remembers what Jong said about "emergency".

"Sir, Ensign Sl'indor has escaped," gulps Jong.

*Turson half rises from his seat in astonishment.*

"What? How is that possible?" he exclaims.

"Believe me, sir, I am dumbfounded," replies Jong, nervously fidgeting with his cap. "An unexplained blackout in the Brig forced me to leave my post. I left two highly-trained guards behind to guard Sl'indor, who, as you know, was our only prisoner at the time. When I returned, both of the guards were lying unconscious on the floor, and Sl'indor was gone."

"How are the guards now?" asks Turson.

"Passable," replies the Chief. "One of them sustained a sizable injury to the back of his skull, but he is recovering well and should be discharged in a matter of hours."

"How in the Milky Way could ANYONE escape from such an escape-proof cell?" moans Turson, more to himself than to Chief Jong.

"Someone turned off the forcefield, sir," says Jong. "That is the only explanation."

"But even then, how could the man escape from--" Turson says, but stops himself as a thought comes to him.

"If you're thinking the same thing I am, sir..." says Jong.

"I am," says Turson. "He must have been beamed off the ship."

"But by whom, sir? Any of the ships allied to our fleet?"

"No, I think not," says Turson. "Our sensors would have detected it. It must have been a cloaked vessel..."

*Turson's voice trails off and there is silence for a few moments. Then he presses the IC button.*

"Smythe, where are you Smythe?" he says.

"On the Bridge, sir," replies the Lieutenant.

"Smythe, inform the other ships that there is an unidentified cloaked vessel in the vicinity. Ensign Sl'indor is missing, and there is no explanation except that he was beamed off this ship by a cloaked starship."

"Aye, aye, sir!" says Smythe, in his usual enthusiastic way.

"You're dismissed, Chief," Turson turns to the NCO. "Just in case, by some unseen means, he IS aboard this vessel still, lead a detail of men to search the ship. I will order Second-Lieutenant Patterson to take your place."

"Aye, aye, sir," salutes Jong, and exits.

*The Commander strokes his goatee (something he often does in puzzling situations).*

"What kind of dastardly forces are we up against?" he whispers.

[Andre TholvelCEO]

Daragon quickly stands up, waving off his bodyguard and scowling at Tyson to cover his embarrassment at being caught offguard, as he was deep in conversation with someone back on the Rising Tide. "Ah, Tyson Malcor, familiarizing yourself with the ship, I suppose," he says, seemingly more to himself than to Malcor. Then, seeming to soften a bit, Daragon asks in a not-unkind, though curious voice, "Are you not Turson's personal bodyguard? Why are you not with him?"

Suddenly, Daragon pauses, and his eyes defocus a bit as if he were listening to something far off. His relaxed demeanor vanishes, and he stiffens up. Scowling, though apparently not at Tyson, he begins muttering, "Oh my, oh my..." and starts to walk forward, eyes still defocused and looking at the floor. Finding himself blocked by a very confused marine, he quickly looks up. "Oh yes, I must be off, something has come up and..." he trails off, eyes once again defocusing. Snapping back to Malcor, he merely says, "Good day!" Walking around Tyson, shouldering him but not seeming to notice, he begins almost speed-walking down the corridor, looking very worried and muttering what sounds to the now dumbfounded Marine like numbers.

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

OOC seems I was complaining about school without good reason... I was trying to do twice the amount of work I needed to be doing this week, and have thus left myself with minimal (official school) work next week. No complaints here... no wonder it seemed like chemistry would never end... End OOC


Vardok and Nala walked in the direction of the nearest transporter room. Nala broke the silence that had prevailed since they had left the Admiral's office.
"You know how to make a convincing argument, I tried to get her to understand for an hour or more before you got there, and all I got was a 'be quite and obey orders or be sent to your quarters' and she's been known to do it to." Vardok was uncertain how to replay, but did his best.
"I got the same threat you know. And you really can't blame the Admiral for being skeptical; so many lives depend on her decisions, she can't afford to make mistakes, especially ones as costly as this." Nala shrugged.
"Perhaps, but she is harder on me. I wonder to this day if she blames me for..."
Vardok stopped walking.
"Blame you? Why?" A pained expression came over Nala's face.
"It's nothing, I, I was just thinking out loud." Vardok could see that it wasn't "nothing" but he didn't press the matter.
"So... What ship do you command?" Nala straightened her shoulders and smiled at this question.
"The R.R.W. N'ventnar*, a Valdore class Warbird," she said with pride.
"A fine class of ship, so quick and nimble for a vessel that size. And yet with powerful weapon systems. You know, I dreamed of commanding one myself one when I first joined. Back then, my ship was an ancient twenty-third century V8, Vas Hatham** Bird of Prey." Vardok laughed, "she was a rusty old bucket of bolts, barely holding together. She was more sheets of metal bolted or welded on as best we could than the original space frame. Oh how she creaked and groaned when we went into warp. One time, we had to take everything offline, including the replicators, to give more power to the structural integrity field just to hold that ship together until a freighter came along to tow us home. She was a good ship. Terrible in terms of raw stats. But a blast to fly. You could feel her move in space. Not like these modern ships, you knew that you were flying, and it was a wonderful, almost magical feeling." Commander Nala did not seem the least bit bored or insulted at this comparison to her modern ship as somehow inferior. In fact, she took up the daydreaming of old times herself.
"My first ship was an old Bird of Prey too. They don't make them like that anymore. You don't have to coax these modern ships to reach higher warp speeds. They're just finely tuned machines; those old ships, you had to convince them to move faster, more like a living thing than a machine. I too miss the joy of flying my rust bucket into battle. And what ship do you lead into battle now, Commander S'ren?"
"Me? I'm assigned to command the Alth'Indor, a Meminda class assault ship. She's a good ship, but she still does what I tell her without ever complaining about it. Why I say that as it it was a bad thing I don't understand, but, I like a ship that argues with me a little. A ship I have to tame." Commander Telth'Alore raised her eyebrows.
"And you wanted to command a Valdore class? Talk about not aiming high enough in life, no offense intended." Vardok smiled at this.
"None taken, when I joined, I had no idea I'd one day be in charge of one of the fastest and most technologically impressive vessels in the Republic. I had to aim for the highest thing I didn't think I could reasonably get," he said with a little laugh. Nala laughed at this as well.
They reached the transporter room.
"It has been a pleasure Commander S'ren. To the N'ventnar please."
"Likewise Commander Telth'Alore. One to beam up to the Alth'Indor."
And the two commanders beamed to their respective Warbirds and began making preparations to "investigate" the Imperial attack. Those preparations consisted namely of restocking on torpedoes and fuel, because one can never tell when an "investigation" might turn into an all out assault on the Romulan Star Empire capital.



Meanwhile, back on Republic Navel Headquarters...
Admiral Telth'Alore straightened her jacket, and pressed a button her her base-wide comm.
"Commanders Vraxer, Kara, Tokov, Aelon, and D'Tarla please report to my office immediately. Will Commanders Vraxer, Kara, Tokov, Aelon, and D'Tarla please report to my office immediately. Thank you."
She tapped her stylus against her mouth thoughtfully as she waited for the summoned officers to arrive. A minute later the first chimed at her door to enter.
"Come." She said.
Soon after, the others arrived as well.
"Be seated Commanders. Thank you for coming on such short notice. This is however, a matter of grave importance or I would not have given you so little time." She paused, weighing her words carefully.
"It has come to my attention that the Romulan Star Empire may have made an attack inside our sovereign space." She paused, letting the gravity of the matter sink in. Several Commanders gasped, others clenched their fists, one muttered something too quietly too be heard.
"I need not remind you, that if this is true, it would be in direct violation of the treaty, and grounds for all-out war.... I do not intend to allow it to escalate to that kind of bloodshed, however, it is our duty to investigate this matter, and to prepare in case the Star Empire is planning any further hostile actions against us. I want only volunteers for what I have in mind, if you do not wish to participate in these actions, the nature of which I cannot reveal unless you agree to take part in them, you may leave at once. Take a minute to think it over, only understand that loss of life is a certainty on this mission, and I will not order you to go unless you are willing."
A couple of minutes later, no one had walked out of the room.
"I take it then that you all are willing to assist me with this?" The Commanders all nodded in the affirmative. "Good. Head to your ships, cancel all leaves, restock armaments, and make certain that your cloaks are in good working order. I will send you your official orders on this matter within the hour. Oh, and Commander Vraxer, please stay a minute, I need to speak with you. Julan Tru all."
All the other commanders got up, saluted, were dismissed, and left the room.
Vraxer ventured a question.
"Admiral, may I help you?" The admiral straightened her uniform again and stood.
"As a matter of fact Commander, yes you can. How long until Project Ra'kholh*** can be ready?"
"About a week Admiral, ten days would be preferable. The project was not slated to be fully tested and ready for action for another month though, but recent events have pushed that back to two weeks ideal time-frame. May I ask why, Admiral?"
"Too long, Commander, too long. I need it ready by sundown tomorrow. Why? Because I fear we will have great need of it before long... great need indeed. Now go and make the necessary preparations, I have some orders to write."


One hour later
The Commanders had recalled crew members on leave, resupplied torpedo magazines, refueled, and otherwise generally prepped their ships when the Admiral's orders arrived. They read as follows:


"Galae**** to depart for enclosed coordinates on receiving these orders.

Commander Vardok S'ren will serve as leader of Galae for the duration of this mission.

Commander Nala Telth'Alore will act as second in command of Galae during the duration of this mission unless deemed unfit or unwise to do so by Commander S'ren.

Galae will investigate enclosed coordinates for any signs of Imperial Romulan activity, aggressive or otherwise. Warp trails, residual weapons fire, debris, sightings/witness accounts, security recordings, and any other reasonable information shall be looked for to prove/disprove the recent presence and unprovoked attack by the Romulan Star Empire.

Information shall be looked for within a reasonable distance from supposed location of attack, as shall be determined by Commander S'ren.

Galae shall remain cloaked as much as possible and avoid attracting attention from any Imperial forces in the area. Maximum stealth is advised.

Commander S'ren shall act accordingly with his own good judgement based on the information he finds in this investigation. If enemy forces have infiltrated our space, with hostile actions or not, Galae is permitted to utilize any reasonable force to prevent danger to the Romulan Republic.

Admiral Vexon Telth'Alore or the Romulan Republic Senate are to be notified through secure means if evidence is found that the Romulan Star Empire, or another force, has trespassed in sovereign Romulan Republic space.

Galae shall do all in its power to prevent anything that may cause, directly or indirectly, prolonged open war if at all possible.

Julan Tru, Commanders--Admiral Vexon Telth'Alore"






OOC

* N'ventnar = Bared Fang
** Vas Hatham = Bird of Prey
*** Ra'kholh = Avenger
**** Galae = Fleet

End OOC

[Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)]

After assuming the identities of several nondescript Romulans [OoC: read: kidnapping random civilians and stealing their identities. /OoC] and having boarded a civilian cruiseliner and landed on Rator III without a hitch, the Blacktalon team, led by Iramaku Tolgesne [OoC: who has an actual Romulan cover name, but I don't feel like figuring one out /OoC], goes to scout out their target: the Space Marine forces.

"So, boss, what d'you think'll happen when they recieve a bunch of new recruits that already have a skill level like ours?"

"They won't, Chinoriki. We're Romulan citizens who have become tired of the Federation's aggression and that of her allies, remember?"

"Riiight, sorry abou that, boss."

"It's fine, now be quiet. We're almost to the objective."

In now almost utter silence, the Scout Team continues on to their objective: a recruitment location for the Romulans' Space Marines, while the Base Team settles into the homes of their various personas.

[OoC: Um, I'm a bit at a loss for how to make this all work out, so, if Dino or Scare could help me out here with the Romulan side of things, that'd be great. /OoC]

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

OOC will do, if Scare doesn't mind of course.    End OOC

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

[OOC: Of course, but what does you mean by "Romulan side of things"? End OOC]

[Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)]

[OoC: I mean I don't know jack about the Romulans, so someone needs to play those roles. /OoC]

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

[OOC: LOL, no problem. End OOC]

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

[OOC: I take the liberty to double-post as this is my RPG, I'm a mod, and nobody's doing a lot of posting right now. End OOC]

*Turson is seated at the bridge, fidgeting with his baton. Smythe walks up to him and salutes.*

"What is it, Smythe?" grunts Turson.

"Sir, I beg to report that Ensign Sl'indor has not yet been found. CPO Jong and his detail have not had any luck either," says Smythe.

"That settles it," says Turson. "The traitor was beamed off the ship."

"I never did trust a Romulan," growled Smythe. "Even that--that Captain S'ren."

"Lieutenant Smythe," Turson says in a clear voice, rising from his chair. "Captain S'ren is a noble Romulan. Just because the Star Empire is evil does not mean that the Republic is evil, or, for that matter, that every Romulan under the Empire is evil."

"A Romulan is a Romulan!" retorts Smythe, in a way more forceful than usual.

"That will be ENOUGH, Smythe!" roars Turson. "And watch your tone, else I'll give you a few demerits."

*Suddenly, the lights go out on the bridge, and the Liberty lurches forward and the helmsmen lose control. Men and women are thrown out of their seats, and sparks fly everywhere.*

"Damage report!" cries Turson, gripping his seat.

"Commander," says a voice. "Damages are internal."

*Turson sits dumbfounded as helmsmen do their best to regain control. Finally he speaks.*

"INTERNAL?" he gasps.

"There was an explosion in the central hull," replies the reporting officer on the IC.

"Any casualties?" asks Turson.

"Thirteen, sir," is the reply. "Seven killed. Six wounded."

*Turson hangs his head. The helmsmen regain control of the ship, and the emergency lights begin flashing.*

"Communications," says Turson. "Contact the Paladin. We have some repairs to make."

"Sir!" exclaims Smythe. "Do you think--"

"I don't know what to think," says the Commander. "But my present suspicion is sabotage."

[ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)]

*Tyson hurried after Daragon and when he caught up with him inquired,* "Sir, I'm requesting to be dropped with your DIM commandoes. It'ld would be much better than sitting here with nothing to do.*

[Andre TholvelCEO]

Daragon stops short and turns to Tyson, an intraspective look on his face. He gazes at him for a few seconds before shaking his head as if to clear it, and giving a terse nod. "Yes, yes of course, I expected as much. You may go in place of one of the DIMC's," Daragon pronounced the acronym as 'dimsees'. "You have full access to a suit of DIMC Stealth Recon modded armor, which includes adaptive camoflauge plates, a personal cloak, and various other stealth gear. As I am aware of your attachment to your personal armor, you may pick and choose from the gear. I highly recommend the cloak, but it is required that you bring the communications array as your Blackout's comm sensors are linked irectly to it. It is highly modular, so you should have no problem. You will be inserted within four klicks of your objective, and the Blackout departs in ten hours. Your fighter wil be well taken care of aboard the Rising Tide. Your full briefing will take place on the journey there. Good luck, Malcor."

Daragon seemed about to say something else, but he suddenly returned to the defocused, distant look that had creeped out Tyson before. After a few seconds, he nodded at the marine, made a tight about-face, and walked briskly away, speaking softly either to himself or to som invisible comm unit.

[ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)]

OOC: The look doens't creep him out, he's used to seeing poeple talk into small comms units.

Thankyou sir. *Tyson notifies Turson of his plans and then heads out for his fighter for the short trip to the Rising Tide, where he puts on his full set of gear, taking his knife, rifle, sniper rifle, pistol, and lots of extra explosives, but leaving all other weapons behind. From the DIMmie gear he selects the cloak and communications set, as well as a few extra explosives. He then slides in with the two other DIMmies on board their craft and sets out. The two look at him but recieve the clearance needed from their proper authority, so they leave him alone.* I'll be solo, no need to watch out for me. *Tyson lets them know with his only words during the entire trip.*

[Andre TholvelCEO]

[OOC] I meant the sudden defocusing and staring off into space practically midsentence. [/OOC]

The sleek, pitch-black form of the Blackout MkIII pulls out of the small hangar bay of the Rising Tide, and slips away silently. The two DIMC's and Tyson sit in silence, checking various weapons and running through checklists. The holoprojector in the middle of the floor comes on, and the DI Special Units Operational Commander, Thomas Hopkins, stands in the middle of the floor. "Good day, gentlemen. Your mission is fairly simple in terms of objectives: scout Rator III, gather intel on the ground forces, location of the empress, and her security. Depending on the information you gather, you may also be asked to find and report possible LZ's for marine insertions. You ill be dropped from fifty thousand feet within four klicksof the city where the Empressis believed to have taken residence. Get in, report what you find to base, ad get out. Be more cautious than bold, better to gather less intel and keep it a surprise. Any questions?"

[ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)]

None sir. *Tyson turns to the other DIMmies* I'll take the empress' palace, and I'll drop by their planetary defenses on the way in.

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