Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY

[ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)]

OOC: XD I didn't think it annoyed you. But I'm sure that Dimmies will come to mean any Daragorn Incorporated Military personel of any kind in popular military sland.

[Andre TholvelCEO]

[OOC] Military? DIM stands for Daragon Incorporated Marines, silly!

DI has no military, btw, it's a business. The DIM division is under the DICSF department-- it's strictly for customer safety, and for inventory protection, as the name (Daragon Incorporated Consumer Security Force) implies. *this was a loooong explanation of the DICSF, but it kept getting longer with no end in sight, so I'm saving it for my official outline of the department*

[/OOC]

[TalmidCommander (PCG)]

Location: Rana IV


"Incoming!!!" came the shrill exclamation from base command, indicating the beginning of the next wave of warfare, or at least the current battle. Through gritted teeth, First Lieutenant Jimmy Smith shifted the weight of his MP-08 on his shoulder and ceased his restless flicking of the setting switch, leaving it at "Kill."

After a sizable fleet of cloaked Reman warships - possible on their way to assassinate the president, but no one will ever admit that - blundered into Federation space and were, perchance, detected by a passing Federation science ship, a quiet order was given to the nearest Star Force brigade to just as silently "remove" the intruding vessels at all costs.

A brief but brutal ship-to-ship combat operation followed over Delta Rana, ending with plenty of fireworks and more than enough space debris to deem such an event far from quiet from the galactic media.

No matter. After the Remans bailed to the surface and Star Force was ordered down to take them out, the first thing that Jimmy had on his mind was getting out of this ordeal alive.

The second was to get the man assigned to the same rabbit hole as he was, Second Lieutenant Erek Seger, out alive too.

When confined to a lonely trench in the middle of a bomb laden battlefield, soldiers tend to develop mutual bonds with each other. Bonds stronger that the official objective of the battle. Bonds of friendship.

Staring through his long-range scope, Jimmy was able to get a glimpse of maybe a fraction of the oncoming charge. Of course, they were obscured by fog, dust, sand, haze, and bomb smoke, all sorts of conditions that make winning a firefight even harder than its initial difficulty.

Automatic targeting was enabled, which would do much of the work. Crouched inside half of his bunny hole, Jimmy braced his arms around the rifle and squeezed the trigger. Phaser fire, the projectile type, erupted from his and Erek's rifles, and hopefully from the weapons of the other brave Star Force men and women scattered around them. All in all, taking down perhaps half a dozen of the charging Remans. No man is perfect, and not even automatic targeting is either.

The distance between the charge and the Star Force trenches was closed in a time period that felt like ten minutes, when in reality it had probably been around ten seconds. The sounds of melee combat, up close and personal, could be heard up ahead. In no time, the Remans were upon Jimmy and Erek.

A tall, slim, but hardened Reman soldier stepped straight into Jimmy's field of fire, but before the Lieutenant could pull the trigger, the man brought a heel onto the Star Force soldier's hand. There was a cry of pain, but it wasn't Jimmy's, as he had since learned to stifle it. His phaser rifle fired wild into the smoke, most likely not hitting anything. With a pained glance to his side, Jimmy could see that Erek was still alive and kicking. Just barely.

A glance upwards brought him face to face with a disruptor nozzle. The Reman.

Jimmy closed his eyes and he heard the weapons fire. Except....

He was still alive. It hadn't been the disruptor. It had been the distinctive sound of a phaser. Jimmy's eyes shot open and he saw a very dead Reman. A middle-aged man with black hair and a beard, a phaser pistol in one hand, and dressed in the uniform of a Star Fleet officer, stood over him.

Fleet Captain Talmid.

Jimmy was up on his feet in an instant. "SIR!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide at the sight of his former commanding officer. "What are you doing here??"

"Saving your sorry being from the horrors of one war," Talmid sighed.

Jimmy nodded eagerly. "I'm so glad to hear that! You're here to relieve me and Erek, right-?" Then it hit him. "Wait, you said one war?"

"That I said." Talmid confirmed. "I'm here to relieve you, and perhaps Lieutenant Seger as well, from this battle, but assuming you'd agree, straight into another war."

Surely nothing could be worse than the Battle of Delta Rana, Jimmy thought. "Sure, sign me up."

Erek jogged up to the two officers and corrected, "Sign us up. Surely nothing can be worse than this."

Talmid stared at his feet. "That, will be up for you two to decide." he said quietly. "I know you two are pilots, which is exactly what you'll be doing. Come with me."

Silently, more silent than the attempt at keeping the aforementioned battle out of media attention, the Fleet Captain lead his two new pilots out of the current war zone, and into the next.

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

OOC
Space/Ground combat. Honestly, if we're ever able to do battle in space across the galaxy with thousands of inhabited worlds, ground combat is going to take second priority. Why? Because you can just pound a whole planet into submission from space. The only instances where ground combat would be needed would be for fighting on worlds with mixed loyalties/high value targets that are desired intact. Ground combat will grow smaller. Just as it has grown smaller from WWII to today, you don't see armies slugging it out anymore. (not of the same size or scale of battle anyway) You see smaller units fighting for the most part. Technology has allowed less man power to accomplish a LOT more. And as tech continues to improve, and our territory of battle goes from a couple of continents to the vastness of space and thousands of planets... and when we reach Trek levels of war, were it isn't even planet versus planet, but thousands of planets against thousands of planets... the value of a single continent, or even a single world, is going to go down CONSIDERABLY. That is not to say that we won't have ground combat. And I think that Trek needs a LOT more. We WILL still have ground fighting, just not the same kind.

Hey, even in Star Wars, Shock Troops are really good (Ep-III Palpatine's guards) and I know enough about Halo to understand everything AA just said. But in Trek, the Remans were used as shock troops, and William Riker (first officer of the TNG Enterprise) commented that that equaled "cannon fodder" of course... they could be elite forces and still be perceived as cannon fodder by the Federation, given that the UFP is obsessed with space combat, they might view sending in ground forces AS cannon fodder (especially troops who are slaves of the Romulan Empire, like the Remans were during the Dominion War)

End (loooong) OOC

[ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)]

OOC: The same was said for ground combat with airplanes. They said airplanes would just bomb the heck outa any army. Well that's only one reason armies don't line up and shoot each other anymore, but it's far from the only reason. They mostly odn't do that because we've advanced beyond napoleon era tactics of lines and cavalry charges. Even without aircraft we still would use small units fighting engagements, with more cover and more flexibility. I'm sure that even though ships coudl theoretically just pound the heck outa anything on teh ground it wouldn't actually work out that way, and ground battles would be much more important and bigger than you are making them out to be. After all, when we kicked Sadam outa Iraq we didn't bomb everything that moved, we often times used tanks and infantry, along with artillery for support. The aircraft just softened thigns up and took out their command, control, communications, etcetera. Big buildings n such.

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

OOC you didn't use ooc.     I'm not saying ground combat will go away, just that the style of combat seen over such massive areas of space will further reduce the amount of ground combat considerably. Better weapons + smarter tactics = far fewer troops on the ground. We could easily see forces in the tens of thousands doing what hundreds of thousands or even millions were required to do in our time. The objectives would become simpler, more advanced. "Get in, take out the shield, take out the reactor, and let the ship finish the job of pounding them. Indeed, ground combat will remain an important part of warfare, but it will be done smarter and smaller to do the same thing and even more, not bigger.

I'm not going to reply to any more on this subject in this topic to stay on topic.   End OOC

(To Jace)
    The Romulan military recruiter smiles at this, obviously pleased with the intelligent young Romulans asking questions, so clearly interesting in joining.

    "Yes, our Star Empire is far stronger than the vile Federation and her ilk. Our Romulan Shock Troopers, commonly known as Marines, are the finest not only in the Quadrant, but in the universe. The Imperial Shock Troops are the Tritanium spearhead of the spear, the tip of our unstoppable assaults. They work as one to storm key locations, to capture vital enemy ships, structures, cities, and even entire planets that are desired intact.

What impact would they have against a fleet? Imagine hundreds of cloaked boarding craft slamming through the hull armor of a Federation warship. Picture tall strong Romulans in full energy dampening battle armor repelling from the boarding craft now lodged in the Federation cruiser's hull. Imagine them hitting the deck of that Federation ship as one man. See there disruptor assault carbines raise and dispatch the disbelieving Starfleet crew standing there, gawking at our mighty warriors' attack. Picture our men storming through the corridors of that Federation vessel, eliminating all resistance with ease. Now see yourself blast through the doors leading to the enemy ship's bridge. See yourself lead your squad into the very command center of that ship. Raise your disruptor rifle, aim at the treacherous Starfleet Captain's chest. And fire a spray of death. Now picture this happening across dozens of Federation warships that dared to invade Romulan space, and you have an excellent idea of just how effective our mighty Imperial Shock Troops are!

The training? First comes fifteen weeks of boot camp in which you will learn to respect your country, your officers, your brothers in arms, your heritage, and yourself. You will undergo rigorous physical exercise, including crunches, situps, pushups, timed runs, pull-ups, aerobic activities, weight training, and extended marches. At the end of that time you will be in the best shape of your lives, capable of doing at least six pull-ups, seventy crunches in less than two minutes, and be able to run three and a half miles, with full combat gear, on rough terrain, in less than twenty-three minutes. During boot camp you will also learn how to clean, safely handle, load, and fire your weapon with a high level of accuracy. You will also receive training in the use of grenades and other explosives. You will learn martial arts so that you can defend yourself even if you are unarmed. You will learn basic first-aid, you will learn basic tactics, and you will learn about your enemies. Remans, Romulan traitors, the Federation, the Borg, and the Klingons." He spat as he said Klingons, "And then your real training will begin. You will then know the basics. After that, you will continue to advanced training, there you will spend months learning everything you need to know about how to win a war by heart. You will become excellent shots, pilots, martial artists, in short, you will become Imperial Romulan Shock Troopers. Also, as you know, a tour of duty is mandatory in the Empire, so if you aren't up to being marines..." and here he sniffed, "you could always be a Uhlan on some Warbird, checking plasma conduits and scrubbing decks. But you look like you've got what it takes to make it in the Imperial Shock Troops... I could be wrong of course."

[Andre TholvelCEO]

[OOC]Actually, the development of space-ground weapons will not eliminate ground warfare-- if anything, it will necessitate and increase it. The technology required to send starships into space with enough power and agility to move around and bombard a planet, especially with energy-based weapons, would mean technology has progressed to the point of energy and particle SHIELDS. So, for a starship to be useful as a space-ground weapon, it first has to eliminate the shields protecting its target. This would require ground warfare, and though we still won't have ground armies lining up to shoot at each other, the infantry, mechanized infantry, cavalry, and heavy armor will always be around.[/OOC]

[Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)]

Iramaku and Chinoriki both stare at the Romulan recruiter in what looks like awe, but inside the heads of the two men, awe is the farthest thing from their minds.

Cloaked boarding craft, capable of ramming into a Federation starship, dispatching troops with extensive training and mental conditioning, energy dampening armor, disruptor weapons and explosives?! Iramaku wonders in horror. This is not good, this is not good at all!

Thinking quickly Chinoriki steps up. "Sir, my doubts have been utterly erased from memory. I wish to join. In fact, with such a tale to tell, I'm sure I could convince some of my comrades who are content to stay at home, waiting for a Federation attack that I think should never come-will never come-because Romulans like myself are out there taking the fight to the enemy." Chinoriki offers a datapad with the contact information to his cover identity, "If you would not mind, sir, I would appreciate if you could contact me at my residence in a few hours, to tell the tale you have told the two of us to my comrades. I'm sure shortly after you will have quite a few new volunteers.

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

[OOC: Scare sits back eating popcorn, immensely pleased with how the subplots are unwinding, barely able to contain his eagerness. End OOC]

[Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)]

[OoC: Jace contemplates throwing a soda at Scare for not mentioning the little fact that up until a couple days ago, nobody though the Romulans had Space Marines... /OoC]

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

OOC As far as I'm concerned, they didn't Also, Jace, keep in mind that the recruiter may be exaggerating about how many marines there are, and how much they would be used in battle. The Empire isn't too eager to give away truthful info, even to itself. He saw that these guys were interested in attacking UFP ships as marines, so he played along with their fantasy, the Empire much prefers sitting in a cloaked warbird and waiting for the opportune time to appear with a barrage of plasma torpedoes. In truth, the RSE is desperate. They are using mothball ships from having lost so much when Romulus went bang, the fact that they are now sending men onto enemy vessels instead of just pounding them with Warbirds indicates that they have a serious shortage of ships and need to make every man and every pound of Duranium plating count, like Japan's use of Kamikazes during WWII. End OOC


Rator III miltary recruitment center


The recruiter beams, knowing that he has just succeed in doing his job, and has done very well at it.
"What time would you like me to contact you? And how many volunteers? I might be able to come in person to tell about the deeds of the Empire if enough brave young men are interested in joining the Imperial Shock Troops."



Somewhere in Romulan Republic space


The Imperial, and "Imperial" parties reached the officers' mess. The Alth'Indor's medical personnel had left to attend to the dying Centurion, and Vardok "S'ryn" dismissed all but two of the guards, with the remaining pair to wait in the corridor outside.
"Please, be seated Commander Nora'dex. We shall offer what humble fare we have." The Star Empire Commander sat in the seat of honor at one end of the table, while Vardok sat at the other. After the Commanders were seated, Nala and the two "Centurions" (first officers) also sat. The two Reman guards remained standing, guarding the only door to the room.
Vardok motioned with his hand and a Romulan came in through the officer's galley. The young man carried a large bottle with blue liquid in it.
"Romulan Ale Commander?" The waiter offered Nora'dex a drink, which the Commander gladly took. The waiter moved on to fill a glass for each person at the table. Nora'dex snapped his fingers and one of his Reman guards rushed over, took out a thimble sized cup, filled it from the Commander's glass, and sipped the drink to ensure that it wasn't poisoned. When he suffered no ill effects, Commander Nora'dex took a deep draft from his drink, which the waiter refilled.
"That is good Kali-fal*, Commander S'ryn." Vardok inclined his head in appreciation of the compliment before Nora'dex continued, "And this officer's mess. I cannot recall ever having seen one as well decorated with so much Imperial decor." Vardok stiffened a little at that, he hoped he hadn't overdone it, it has been several years since he'd been on an Imperial Warbird.
"You have Subcommander Nala Telth'aven to thank for that." Vardok hoped the very decorations intended to help earn Nora'dex's trust wouldn't make him guess the truth and refuse to talk.
"Well my dear, you are meticulous. I doubt that the Empress's palace is as well decorated as this, even on days of festival." Vardok was getting worried, Is that a compliment? Or is he nervous? He did have his guard taste his drink... Does he suspect anything? Vardok changed the subject.
"I am loathed to bring it up, but how did the Federation overcome our fleet?" Just then two waiters came out with trays full of steaming food. They set plate after plate on the table.
Nora'dex drained his glass before answering.
"There attack was... unexpectedly swift. Our standard defensive fleet was inadequate for the task. We had several Warbirds following the enemy inside their space.... but more and more ships, some of them from factions I have never even heard of, joined the enemy fleet. We scrambled all available forces, but by the time they arrived... it was already too late." Nora'dex tried to appear brave, invincible, but it was clear that he was afraid, afraid that he would be considered a disgrace upon his return to Imperial space. Vardok knew that they had to be careful, not only to avoid arousing his suspicion, but to avoid depressing him and thus losing the opportunity to hear what he had to say of his own free will.
"Try the Viinerine**, Commander, it is really quite good;" Vardok prompted, "waiter! Bring a fresh bottle of Romulan Ale, and leave it for us this time!" A waiter scampered out from the galley with an unopened bottle of Romulan Ale and popped the cork. He poured a full glass's worth for Commander Nora'dex, who readily took another drink.
Nala had had enough of the pleasantries and was ready for some answers, so she decided to ask for them.
"How it is, that the battle took place across the Neutral Zone?" She questioned. Vardok shot her a look that spoke volumes, none of it encouraging. Nora'dex didn't seem to mind the question however.
"It is really quite simple. 'The best defense is a strong offense.' They were clearly coming to invade the territory of the Romulan Stat Empire, so we took what steps we felt we must to succeed. That and General S'Teveirr was a fool." Vardok raised his eyebrows ever so slightly at this, it was not wise to speak poorly of one's officers, especially in the Romulan Empire. Perhaps that Romulan Ale is having an effect already? But then Nora'dex went on, "He was a fool. He was certain that an invasion into enemy space was imminent in the next few months, and that he would be left out of it considering that he is assigned to patrolling the Neutral Zone for the next seven years. So he decided to generate some glory for himself. He attacked before all of our reinforcements arrived, before the Federation came across the Neutral Zone. His quest for recognition cost us thousands of lives, and quite possibly, a great deal more that is yet to come." The Commander refilled his glass and took another drink before continuing, "And that is why we we attacked them across the Neutral Zone, Subcommander, all because one mindless politician wanted a pat on the back from the Empress! The fool!" Vardok tried to hide just how pleased he was. And we just recorded all of that... we have them, I think it's about time to 'investigate further,' but first, let's get as much out of this as we possibly can.... Nora'dex took the bowl of Viinerine and scooped some onto his plate. He took a bite.
"Mmmm. This is good Viinerine. Just a tad spicier than I am accustomed to, but quite good." Vardok again nodded in appreciation. Maybe not too many questions at once, that might seem odd. Now to let the conversation wander where it will.

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

[OOC to Jace: Hey, Dino told me that, since we're like a century ahead of the last canon Star Trek movie, I can tweak certain things in standard storylines. That's one of the advantages of living 100 years after Cap'n Picard. End OOC]

[Andre TholvelCEO]

[OOC] I agree with Dino. QUESTION OF THE DAY: How do you know when a recruiter is lying to you?

ANSWER: His mouth is moving.

^A common saying among the military here.
[/OOC]

Captain Morris, Tyson, and Radi set out for the city across the bare, rocky terrain, keeping behind cover as much as possible but mainly trusting in their armor's high stealth capabilities to keep them hidden from any sensors on the city limits, and the adaptive camouflage plates to keep them hidden from prying eyes. After about two hours, the party stops to rest behind a group of rocks just outside the city. "This is one of the most critical points," Morris announces, "if we get spotted here, the whole thing is down the drain. When we make our approach, Tyson, Radi's going to cover our approach with his blinder." Morris motioned to the DI E-153 "Blinder," a scope attachment used to render sensors, cameras, and even eyes useless. "You'll take point-- but be careful, we can't let things get hairy this early or we'll spook the objective, so no crashing down doors or grenades," Morris laughs, "as much as I know you Yaka marines love those."

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

OOC HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!! HILARIOUS!!!! That's a common saying around my house too, only when we use it it's about politicians, not recruiters... it'd work well for Romulans in general though.. Why they even HAVE recruiters when military service is mandatory, I have no idea, I guess they want some people to join the Rommy Marines. End OOC

[Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)]

OOC As far as I'm concerned, they didn't   Also, Jace, keep in mind that the recruiter may be exaggerating about how many marines there are, and how much they would be used in battle. The Empire isn't too eager to give away truthful info, even to itself. He saw that these guys were interested in attacking UFP ships as marines, so he played along with their fantasy, the Empire much prefers sitting in a cloaked warbird and waiting for the opportune time to appear with a barrage of plasma torpedoes. In truth, the RSE is desperate. They are using mothball ships from having lost so much when Romulus went bang, the fact that they are now sending men onto enemy vessels instead of just pounding them with Warbirds indicates that they have a serious shortage of ships and need to make every man and every pound of Duranium plating count, like Japan's use of Kamikazes during WWII. End OOC


Rator III miltary recruitment center


    The recruiter beams, knowing that he has just succeed in doing his job, and has done very well at it.
    "What time would you like me to contact you? And how many volunteers? I might be able to come in person to tell about the deeds of the Empire if enough brave young men are interested in joining the Imperial Shock Troops.

[OoC: Dude, I know how recruiters work. But this actually works to my advantage. If you overestimate your opponent, you'll think longer and harder about attacking them. Ergo, you'll come up with a better plan, and maybe even be pleasantly surprised when you discover it really was an overestimation. /OoC]

"Actually, sir, I do not know if all my comrades can attend in person. Perhaps I could relay you telling the tale to the comrades of mine in person to those that are unable to be there? Say, three hours from now?"

[TalmidCommander (PCG)]

[OOC] Remember, they wanted it quiet. Bombing Rana IV would not be quiet. Having a firefight in an already creepy desert is very quiet, at least in relative. [/OOC]


The Talmidon dropped out of warp and proceeded to cruise in the relative direction of Beta Crucis 5. Deep below the surface of the planet in an ancient missile base were some equally ancient equipment, and some modern technology as well, like a transporter pad.

Fleet Captain Talmid, Commander Dave Barker, Lieutenants Jimmy and Erek, and three other Star Force soldiers specially picked out to fly this dangerous mission materialized on the transporter pad.

"And here we are." Talmid announced, as soon as his mouth appeared.

The modern technology was not limited to the transporter pad. Inside an old hanger sat six shiny Star Phoenix fighters, with cloaking devices.

Lieutenant Jake, one of the three other Star Force soldiers, whistled. "Now that's what I call a fighter."

"Alright Lieutenants," Talmid said, addressing his makeshift group of soldiers. Most of them had, or were related someway or another to those who had, fought alongside him. "I'm not much of a pilot, and if you know how to count, you should have realized by now that one of us here isn't going. That would be me. Dave here is your commander now."

With that, the Fleet Captain left the hanger and was promptly beamed back to the Talmidon.

"Here's the plan, Lieutenants," Dave announced, cutting straight to the chase and looking each soldier in the eye. Lieutenant Jimmy, Lieutenant Erek, Lieutenant Jake, Lieutenant Vesper, and Lieutenant Larisson. "Your birds are equipped with the expected cloaking device for this rather 'rogue' mission, and seeing as it could be seen as traitorous to the United Federation of Planets, if you wish to opt out now, you may do so. Be sure to pass by the lab on the way home for some free memory wiper samples."

No one said anything.

"Good," Dave said, pleased. Then more quietly, "Even if you were indeed somehow caught and trialed, I used to be a Star Force soldier. I'd have gotten you out of there, or at least tried.

"Now, here is the plan. In addition to cloaks, your birds have been modified with increased hull armor and rigidity, boosted shields, chemical boosters in the engines, and a limited use transwarp drive. Note that all these upgrades will have a bit of an impact on your agility and handling, but they're going to be needed if you plan on getting to Romulus anytime soon. Well, not the chemical boosters, but they're awesome nonetheless."

"Erm, actually Romulus isn't the capital anymore." Jimmy said.

Dave glared at him. "Whatever, you know where you're going. Get into the seats of those birds and head for the capital's moon. Maintain cloak until the fleet arrives, then jump into that battle and destroy absolutely everything. Catch those Romulans by surprise and give our boys the needed push. It's not going to be a turkey shoot. It's going to be carnage, for both sides, except you're going to try and limit ours."

"Not very optimistic." Erek quipped.

"Wait, why are you saying 'you'?" Vesper demanded. "Aren't you the sixth pilot who's coming with us?"

Dave sighed, then answered her. "Nope, he is."

Lieutenant Commander Brad Tylers stepped out of the shadows. "Uh, hello, uh boys and girl. What's up?"

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

OOC But you didn't know that I don't know how it works.    I might have had him telling the complete truth (I wouldn't know much about the Empire then...    ) I just wanted to be sure that I was clear on it, that's all.  



Rator III, military recruitment center

    The Romulan officer takes out a small PAD and copies the contact information.
    "Three hours it is, I look forward to telling your friends about the invincible Shock Troops of the glorious Empire. Julan Tru*."




Romulan Star Empire/Romulan Republic Neutral Zone

    Commander Nora'dex spoke, although it was becoming rather challenging to understand what he was saying.
    "A toast! To The Empress! May her reign never end, and may the Slar Empire grow ever slonger!" A chorus of "To The Empress!" rang out around the table. But Nora'dex wasn't finished talking yet.
    "So what did you think of her latest sleech?" Vardok assumed that he meant 'speech' and answered accordingly.
    "Her latest speech? It was a marvelous piece of work! So well spoken! It was inspiring. She hit the nail right on the head! Everyone must indeed pull their own weight for the Empire to flourish. We must stand together against the tyranny of the Federation, or we will pay dearly. And every word of it true." In reality, Vardok didn't bother to listen to the Empress's weekly speeches, if you'd heard one, you'd pretty much heard them all, and he didn't need her to tell him how powerful the Star Empire was, he knew it, he'd fought it, and he'd survived it's wrath. Vardok just hoped that his description of this particular speech was accurate. Nora'dex seemed too intoxicated to know whether any of that was true of her latest speech or not.
    "That is slo true! Slo true. She always does hit the nail on the head. She's a great public-sleaker... speaker." Vardok only nodded at this, wanted to allow the conversation to spread amongst the officers present. Even if they didn't get any useful information, at least it wouldn't be so... awkward.

    Nala was entirely bored with all of this. How long is this going to go on. We've gotten what we need, this buffoon is on boarder patrol... he doesn't know anything about anything else even remotely useful. She was also entirely tipsy and her reasoning skills were sorely wanting for it. Commander Nora'dex wasn't the only one who enjoyed his Romulan Ale, although she knew how not to make a fool of herself when she drank... Nala didn't used to drink, not like this. Not when she first joined the Romulan Republic Navy forty-five years ago. But then it happened, and her life had never been the same. She had done her job, she hadn't let it get in the way of her work, sure. She didn't let it control her... not entirely. She only did it when she was off duty. But the loss had still cut her to the core, and in her anguish she tried to deaden the pain when duty didn't push that pain to the background. It never worked, never lasted, but it helped ever so slightly, if not to make the pain stop, to help her forget... for a while...  
    She found her eyes wondering, wandering to how she could see light through the ears of the Reman guards, saw the guards disruptor rifles, found herself noticing the background music for the first time, found herself studying the decorative patterns on the plates.

    She found herself noticing how handsome Commander S'ren was in his Imperial uniform. And then she looked past Vardok, and saw that the Imperial Banner hadn't been secured properly. It was coming lose, and the Republic emblem was permanently engraved on the wall behind it. They can't see that. Nora'dex can't see that, Vardok would've sent him to the brig if he was done with him, if he sees that now... with those guards standing there... What can I do? I have to keep his eyes off of it. Or set it up again. How can I do that, without making a scene? If I could just think clearly! If I could just think clearly! A thousand ideas raced through her mind. Ideas of overpowering the guards, ideas of running out of the room screaming about a fire, maybe setting that fire herself. Ideas about jumping on the table and making her own speech. Anything to keep them from seeing that Republic emblem. All of those ideas were too far fetched, too crazed, they were too risky in of themselves. And then it hit her. Play the part.
    Nala rose from her chair, wobbled on her feet, and in the loudest, most drunken voice she could manage, she spluttered out
"Hoe slome resplect for the flaag of the Empire! That fllag's snot hanging evensly! That slis a degrace to thiiis Warbard!" And with that, she slammed her fist down on the table, upsetting the dishes considerably. Vardok didn't understand what she was trying to tell him. Perhaps she had played her part too well, perhaps he had never noticed the Republic emblem there, but his response was not helpful.
    "Sit down Subcommander. You are out of line and disturbing our guests." But Nala wasn't giving up that easily, she had attracted attention to it, now it would be far more dangerous to just let it sit, waiting for it to fall and reveal their true affiliation.
    "Nosir! Do you have any isdlea how important that flag slis to us! What it slands for! The principelles it rlests on!?" Vardok gave her a look that could provide enough power to get a ship into warp. She pleaded with him with her eyes, but he still did not understand.
    "That is enough Nala. Sit down right now or I will send you to your quarters." Nala's response was simple.
    "No!" she said, again slamming her fist onto the table. "Slat flag's ery important!" To her horror, Commander Nora'dex rose from his chair, and squinting at the flag, half walked, half wobbled over to the banner.
    "Sle's right! Slat flag lis import-ay-ant!" He proceeded to try to adjust the flag back into place, but only succeeded in knocking it down further. The raised wing of the Republic bird of prey was now just visible. But before Nala could run over to try to help, one of the Reman guards was there, helping his Commander get the flag back into its proper position. Neither of them commented about seeing something behind it, neither of them appeared the least bit suspicious, but it was so hard to tell with a Romulan, they were naturally suspicious beings.
Vardok turned back from the rehanging of the banner, to Nala. His his eyes were wide, he understood now. He couldn't say a single word, couldn't express anything out of the ordinary, but it was clear he was grateful to her quick thinking. Now to finish the part I started to play, to distract from that banner for the rest of the meal she thought.
    Nora'dex wobbled back to his chair, leaning on his Reman guard as he went. Nala slapped Commander Nora'dex on the back as he went by, knocking him to the floor.
    "Good job Nora'dex!" She congratulated him loudly, knowing that no one would so much as look at the banner again that night out of the sheer awkwardness of the situation. "Good job!" Vardok exploded with anger at this, now it was he who had to play the part.
    "Subcommander! Go to your quarters at once! Now! Or I will have you escorted there under guard!" Their eyes met, they both understood. The visiting Imperial Commander wouldn't be looking at the banner after such a scene, it would be too embarrassing. Nora'dex tried to get to his feet again, but it took the help of his Reman guard to get him standing. Nala's answer was less provocative this time "Yesslur! Just.. respect that flag!" She then proceeded to walk/stagger out of the room, very satisfied that she had accomplished what she had set out to do.    
 
    Once his guard got him seated again, Nora'dex continued to enjoy the Viinerine**, the Hlai'hwy***, and especially the Kali-fal****. Conversation drifted off into small groups of discussion. The latest promotions to high positions, old campaigns, (many of which Vardok fought against Nora'dex's Star Empire in, but the good Commander was not informed of this fact) declassified technology, and the price of vintage 2356 Romulan Ale were all discussed. But in spite of Commander Nora'dex's increasingly intoxicated condition, he did not reveal any classified information. Nor did the nurse, who had also been rescued from the cloaked escape pod. Of course the facts that she only had a little to drink and that she likely didn't know of anything classified in the first place, may have had something to do with this, but regardless, the only thing Vardok was getting out of this was a headache tomorrow morning. Regardless, his 'guests' were none the wiser.
    After another hour of conversation, Vardok excused himself from the talks to go see how the patient was doing. At least there are no Republic flags in the guest quarters or the medical bay.  





OOC
* Julan Tru is a Romulan greeting, similar to "good day"
** Viinerine is a Romulan food
*** Hlai'hwy is another Romulan food
**** Kali-fal is an alcoholic Romulan beverage. It is quite possibly the Romulan name for Romulan Ale, and I will use the two terms interchangeably as they are both blue, intoxicating Romulan drinks.
End OOC

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

*Commander Turson is sitting at a table in the Officers' Mess. It is 6:30 AM by Earth time, and he is beginning to eat a hearty breakfast of French toast, bacon, fried eggs, a cinnamon roll, two glasses of milk, and one glass of orange juice. Suddenly, Smythe walks into the mess and salutes.*

"Hello, Smythe!" says Turson in a rather cheery mood. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

"No, sir, but--" Smythe begins.

"Then sit down!" interrupts the Commander. "Help yourself. My eyes are always bigger than my stomach when I go to the replicator. Try the bacon: it is extraordinaire!"

*Smythe seats himself and lays a napkin on his lap.*

"Thank you, sir," he says. "But I hope you won't mind if I discuss an important matter."

"Not at all," Turson says through bites of bacon.

"Sir, I heard that you sent word for reinforcements from Phoenix Command."

"So?"

"Well, sir, is it really necessary? I thought the Romulan Empire was crippled beyond hope."

"Smythe, I believe the same. But we cannot be too careful. Besides, I only asked if Commander Scarecrow would be able to send the Patriarch to the battle."

"Commander Scarecrow?" asks Smythe. "But I thought he was on a classified mission."

"He is, but I was never informed WHEN he would return. Regardless, it doesn't matter anyhow. The Commander has not returned, and the Patriarch is undergoing refitting.* There will be no more reinforcements from the Command at this time."

"That's good to hear, sir!" said Smythe, taking a bite of the French toast.

"Why is it good to hear?"

"Well, sir, think of all the systems we would leave undefended! I understand the Patriarch defended a key system in Alpha Quadrant."

"True, but Captain Dino's St. George has taken her place during refitting."

*The conversation switches to more casual things, but Turson feels a growing prick inside. He cannot pinpoint it, he does not understand it. But the running thought in his mind is, "Something tells me I won't be going back to Headquarters...something tells me..."*

_______________________________________________________________-

* I have not even begun to refit the Patriarch yet, but I thought I would motivate myself by putting that in there.

[TalmidCommander (PCG)]

[OOC] I see the need for reinforcements may arise later on. Just in case that will be so, the character of Talmid is in a good position to provide some emergency firepower should the need arise. [/OOC]

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

OOC I think that Scare is trying to keep this challenging. End OOC

[ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)]

OOC: I know it! I just know it! Smythe's a traitor!

IC: *Tyson army crawls across the open area slowly, giving his adaptive camo plates time to adjust to their surroundings as he goes. He weaves a pattern that keeps him behind many large rocks and dirt piles, or even small rocks, and he carefully places his feet and hands so as to stir up as little dust or move as few rocks as little as possible, which led to some quite awkward and strenuous postitions at times. All the while he keeps an eye out for anything that may see him, whether it be a bug or a bird or a romulan sentry.

[TalmidCommander (PCG)]

[OOC] Oh, it would be very challenging, getting past the current political system to earn clearance to move a full-scale Federation war fleet into Romulan space. [/OOC]

[LonestarCaptain (PCG)]

[OOC: Yeah, I'm making it challenging! The more challenging the better!

[Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)]

[OoC: I could've sworn I made a reply to Dino.../OoC]

"Julan tru," the Blacktalons say, making their ways back to their covers' residencies, and communicating with their fellow operatives: trading Intel, interesting things about the area, defenses, good locations for certain activities, and lastly about the call from the Romulan recruiter they can be expecting shortly.

The Blacktalons set up a relayed communications net, so as to spoof, confuse, and defeat any trace the recruiter (or his superiors) might try to execute, with the net leading back to the Sons of Liberty's various commanders...

[Dino27Captain (PCG)]

[OOC] does this mean you're reading for the Rommy Marines to come over for a play date?    [End OOC]


Just across the Neutral Zone

    Vardok headed down to sickbay to check on the Centurion.
    "How is he T'nai?" Vardok asked the ship's chief medical officer.
    "Not good Vardok. Not good. He's unconscious, he's lost a lot of blood, suffered internal injuries, is dehydrated, and has third degree burns over the better part of his body. I'm amazed he's still alive at all."
    "What are his chances?" Vardok already feared the worst.
    "I'm regenerating what tissue I can, pumping him as full of blood and fluids as I dare, keeping him senseless on pain killers, though I doubt he'd be conscious without them. I'm doing everything I can for the man. But I don't think it will be enough. I've already operated on his internal injuries, but that nearly killed him. So now he's on heavy life support. And if I took him off of that for so much as a minute... he'd be gone. Honestly Vardok, I don't know how much more I can do for him. It's practically a miracle he's alive at all at this point. I don't know what's keeping him going now. I've seen men with far less severe injuries die much sooner. He's a strong one, I'll give him that." Doctor T'nai looked tired, he'd clearly been fighting for this Romulan's life. T'nai was of average height, and build his skin was dark, his black hair was cut shorter to keep it out of his way over long hours of work. There were dark circles under his brown eyes. He was a healer, not a killer, but he was a fighter none the less.  
    "Will he recover?" Vardok feared the worst. But if he survived... a man so greatly weakened by his injuries might tell much without even realizing that any questions were anything out of the ordinary. Doctor T'nai rubbed his temples.
    "I can't even tell you if he'll make it through tonight Vardok. But I can tell you I'll do everything I Romulanly can for him."
    "I know T'nai. I know you will. I don't doubt it. Let me know if there's any change." Vardok was tired. They had already learned what they needed to know. But there's so much more. So much we don't know. So much intel that could make a world of difference. If I can get them to tell it of their own free will... I can keep tapping for more without them knowing until I have everything I can possibly get out of them.
    "I will. Oh, and would you mind getting me some spiced tea on your way out?" Vardok walked over the the Replicator, ordered a tea for the doctor, and brought it to him.
    "Certainly. Here you go T'nai. Don't get yourself so wild on caffeine that you need to give yourself a sedative." Vardok said with a wink.
    "Get out of here and let me treat my patient, because you're testing my patience." T'nai said, almost with a laugh.


[OOC posting something to keep things moving...
Calling is easier, but I can have him come over. Whichever works for you. And are you ready? End OOC]

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