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Log inTHE SONS OF LIBERTY
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Dino27
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Andre Tholvel
Lord Commandant Jace
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Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)
- Join date : 2013-06-15
Faction : MSI
Posts : 482
Location : MSI space. 
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Sat Aug 24, 2013 8:53 pm
[OoC: Come over? I said call, mate! But if they want to visit Iramaku or Chinoriki, they should feel free. /OoC]
Andre TholvelCEO- Join date : 2013-05-19
Posts : 381
Location : Aboard the IFS Varda, viewing construction of the next flagship.
Character sheet
Faction:
Species: Human
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Sat Aug 24, 2013 11:50 pm
After a long, stressful crawl, the three commandos finally gather in one of the deserted, run-down homes on the outskirts of the city. "Now's the fun part," Captain Morris grins, "we need to get to the safehouse, about half a kilometer from the Palace, but we can't travel together. We're running short on time, too, so it's time for multitasking. Tyson, you go ahead and swing by the Hall of State, and find out if the Empress has an office there. If so, snag any computer contents and head for the safehouse. Radi, you scout out the Palace perimeter defenses, and get coordinates for any shield generators or ground-to-space weapons that could take out landing craft." Morris pauses to check his HUD's perimeter scanners, then continues. "I've got the new toy," he said, referring to the new Sangron prototype device intended to find underground tunnels, "so I'll find a way into the Palace and see what I can see. You two meet the contact at the safehouse--the coordinates are in your HUDs-- by 0300 tomorrow. The password is 'skewer'. Let's move out!"
ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)- Join date : 2013-05-20
Faction : De-Factioned
Posts : 1065
Location : Lost in a decimated city
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Sun Aug 25, 2013 7:22 pm
*Tyson nodded and immediately left the building. He proceeded to make his way unnoticed throughout the city, using back alleys, roof tops, and various other pathways to keep himself hidden. Any sort of walking amongst the civillians was useless, as he was eight feet six inches, and no Romulan was ever even close to that tall. So he used the duranium walls and stretched piping to move throughout the city and keep from being seen. It required being quick, often with only a split second able to be exposed with no one looking, and balacing on small precarious points or hanging off the sides of things, sometimes by his hands, sometimes gripping soemthing with his knees, sometimes holding himself sideways off a pole with an amazing display of full body strength, whatever it took as the situation required. Eventually he made it to the Hall of State where he quickly assessed all security monitoring devices around in order to find a hole.
There was none.
Tyson cursed a slient "PEACHES" to himself before looking around for the least exposed camera. When he found one that suited his purposes, he shot it with a deftly aimed mini-harpoon gun, with a broad flat blade tip specifically for cutting wires. With the camera down he quickly made his way to the stem it was sitting on, where he had shot it. There was a nice clean cut, obviously sabatoge. Tyson pulled out his utility knife and worked up the cut so that it appeared more that a rodent with sharp teeth had attacked it, and then quickly moved through the hole. He didn't have long before the Romulans came to make sure nothing had gotten through after some animal had tested it's teeth on a very important camera. He quickly climbed into a ventilation duct and made his way through the Hall of State, searching for something worth hacking.* "Tyson to Radi, I'll need a remote hacker soon." *While Tyson was note unskilled at such things, it was better to leave the most tightly bound computers possibly in the entire galaxy
to a true master, just incase something didn't work out well.*
There was none.
Tyson cursed a slient "PEACHES" to himself before looking around for the least exposed camera. When he found one that suited his purposes, he shot it with a deftly aimed mini-harpoon gun, with a broad flat blade tip specifically for cutting wires. With the camera down he quickly made his way to the stem it was sitting on, where he had shot it. There was a nice clean cut, obviously sabatoge. Tyson pulled out his utility knife and worked up the cut so that it appeared more that a rodent with sharp teeth had attacked it, and then quickly moved through the hole. He didn't have long before the Romulans came to make sure nothing had gotten through after some animal had tested it's teeth on a very important camera. He quickly climbed into a ventilation duct and made his way through the Hall of State, searching for something worth hacking.* "Tyson to Radi, I'll need a remote hacker soon." *While Tyson was note unskilled at such things, it was better to leave the most tightly bound computers possibly in the entire galaxy
to a true master, just incase something didn't work out well.*
Dino27Captain (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-05-20
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 1435
Location : P.C.G. York ready room
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Sun Aug 25, 2013 9:44 pm
Just across the Neutral Zone
Vardok tapped his wrist comm.
"Give me a general update D'Avek*." Vardok said. D'Avek's deep voiced crackled over the comm in reply shortly afterwards.
"We crossed the Neutral Zone about twenty minutes ago.
Last I saw of Nora'dex, he was senseless and being carried to his quarters by his guards shortly after you left to check on that Centurion in sickbay. One of his guards apologized to me that the Commander was unable to thank us in person. The Computer confirms his location.
SubCOMMANDER Nala is in your ready room and wishes to speak with you.
You've received three summons by Starfleet, something about your Court Martials sir.
I have received orders to have you arrested for treason, I have a short memory though, I'll forget about those now that I told you.
Every bit of data we collected about the battle and the Commander has been received, no new orders."
"Thank you D'Avek. Tell Nala I'll be up there in a minute." Vardok replied.
[OOC * D'Avek is Vardok's first officer, I'll come up with more on him later.
End OOC]
Vardok tapped his wrist comm.
"Give me a general update D'Avek*." Vardok said. D'Avek's deep voiced crackled over the comm in reply shortly afterwards.
"We crossed the Neutral Zone about twenty minutes ago.
Last I saw of Nora'dex, he was senseless and being carried to his quarters by his guards shortly after you left to check on that Centurion in sickbay. One of his guards apologized to me that the Commander was unable to thank us in person. The Computer confirms his location.
SubCOMMANDER Nala is in your ready room and wishes to speak with you.
You've received three summons by Starfleet, something about your Court Martials sir.
I have received orders to have you arrested for treason, I have a short memory though, I'll forget about those now that I told you.
Every bit of data we collected about the battle and the Commander has been received, no new orders."
"Thank you D'Avek. Tell Nala I'll be up there in a minute." Vardok replied.
[OOC * D'Avek is Vardok's first officer, I'll come up with more on him later.
End OOC]- Andre TholvelCEO
- Join date : 2013-05-19
Posts : 381
Location : Aboard the IFS Varda, viewing construction of the next flagship.
Character sheet
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Species: Human
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Mon Aug 26, 2013 2:00 pm
Radi slowly makes his way between dark places and alleys, using his personal cloak to move and adaptive camo to hide. He is just on the edge of what his expert eye identifies as the Palace surveillance ring--a full half kilometer out from the Palace itself. He activates his cloaking devise and makes a rush for the ring, getting underneath the first camera and against a wall just before the cloak times out and recycles. Spotting a side door into the building he's up against, Radi edges up to it and ejects a small, telescoping stick from his gauntlet. Activating the wand camera, he slides it underneath the door to see what is on the other side-- a barracks, devoid of any life forms except one Romulan, obviously fast asleep.
Radi silently sneaks into the door, realizing almost too late that in his surveillance of the door, he didn't notice the Romulan patrol wandering past. He hears voices, and jumps into the room and quietly shuts the door just as the patrol walks past where he was standing. Giving a quick sigh of relief, Radi spots a datapad on the floor, obviously belonging to the sleeping Romulan, a night-shift guard who was getting a nap while off duty. Radi quickly grabs the pad, breaks the password, and removes a small device from a compartment in his armor. Plugging it into the pad, he downloads a powerful but nearly undetectable virus through the pad's link to the Romulan military mainframe-- and eventually, he knew, to the Tal Shiar mainframe. Before the virus is finished, he gets the call from Tyson requesting remote hacking assistance. "Skewer One, this is Skewer Two, request confirmed. I'm standing by for remote hacking." Radi sets the pad exactly where he got it, removes the device, and goes to find the nearest closet.
Radi silently sneaks into the door, realizing almost too late that in his surveillance of the door, he didn't notice the Romulan patrol wandering past. He hears voices, and jumps into the room and quietly shuts the door just as the patrol walks past where he was standing. Giving a quick sigh of relief, Radi spots a datapad on the floor, obviously belonging to the sleeping Romulan, a night-shift guard who was getting a nap while off duty. Radi quickly grabs the pad, breaks the password, and removes a small device from a compartment in his armor. Plugging it into the pad, he downloads a powerful but nearly undetectable virus through the pad's link to the Romulan military mainframe-- and eventually, he knew, to the Tal Shiar mainframe. Before the virus is finished, he gets the call from Tyson requesting remote hacking assistance. "Skewer One, this is Skewer Two, request confirmed. I'm standing by for remote hacking." Radi sets the pad exactly where he got it, removes the device, and goes to find the nearest closet.
- ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)
- Join date : 2013-05-20
Faction : De-Factioned
Posts : 1065
Location : Lost in a decimated city
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Mon Aug 26, 2013 5:28 pm
OOC: Right. Personal Cloak....Knew that....
IC: Roger that, standby. *Tyson continues to crawl through the duct searching for the Empress' office. After a few more minutes of searching, he finds a map that shows her office, finally where he can view it from the airduct. He immediately makes his way to her office, only to be stopped by a dead end. The security forces must have had spy duct-rats in mind when constructing the building. Tyson activated his cloak and dropped down from the air-duct through a vent. Just then a group of high-ranking Romulan officials turned the corner and almost ran smack-bang into him. He quickly threw himself against a wall, and tripped the last official, who also tumbled into the wall. The rest of them looked back startled at the noise, and noticed the downed official, who smiled foolishly with embaressment. "You'ld better watch your feet Sardok, the Empress doesn't favor those who can't even control their own feet." They all turned back around and just three seconds later Tyson's cloak de-activated. He quickly began to follow them through the turns, which corresponded with the route to the Empress' office. He activate his cloak when neccessary to make it past cameras and to avoid being seen by other Romulans going about their buisness. On the last leg of the route the Romulans stopped at a turbolift. Tyson, who had found himself right on their tale trying to avoid cameras and make it through doors they opened, slipped in front of them and entered the turbolift first, cloak still running. The Romulans entered and turned about in order to exit facing the right way. Tyson, now behind him, began to watch his cloak's count-down timer in his HUD. It'ld better not be a long way up.... It was. Tyson watched with anxiety as his cloak timer ran down...3.....2....1.....and he became visible again. He let his active camo blend into the wall, but he was still quite visible, especially at such close range. He was ducked into the lift with his neck bent and his shoulders slouched, literally breathing down their necks, albeit as little as possible. Tyson was just waiting for one of them to notice him. It wouldn't matter, they'ld all die a quick and violent death in the confined area, but his cover would be blown.
"Ragnoth, you should clean yourself before your meetings. You reek!"
"Clean yourself you rathgan! I showered just before I came up!"
"SCILENCE! The Empress will have our heads for such foolish banter."
What the Romulans where really smelling was Tyson, who was soaked with sweat after working his way to this point, and covered in gear to boot. Tyson realized he may have another problem to add to his quickly growing list, if the doors opened before his cloak recharged, he would be visible to any cameras or gaurds. As soon as it recharged, he turned it back on, and then two seconds later the doors opened and the Romulans filed out to go through one last security check before metting with the empress. They where patted down for weapons, scanned, retinal scanned, finger-print scanned, DNA scanned, and then let through. Tyson took advantage of the oppulant furnishings to climb around the security checks, and duck behind a large statue for his cloak to return. Once it did, he made his way into the Empress' office, along with his Romulan tag-alongs. He hid behind another large statue and waited for the Empress to arrive. When she did, she came in through another set of doors from her smaller more private office to meet with the Romulan officials. Tyson saw his oppertunity and sprinted for the door before it shut, cloak on. He slipped in right before it slowly swung shut. He found himself alone in her office, and immediately slipped his own device into her computer.
"Skewer One to Skewer Two, sorry for the wait. Proceed with hacking and make it quick!" Tyson crouched behind her desk so as to remain unnoticed while his cloak was off.
IC: Roger that, standby. *Tyson continues to crawl through the duct searching for the Empress' office. After a few more minutes of searching, he finds a map that shows her office, finally where he can view it from the airduct. He immediately makes his way to her office, only to be stopped by a dead end. The security forces must have had spy duct-rats in mind when constructing the building. Tyson activated his cloak and dropped down from the air-duct through a vent. Just then a group of high-ranking Romulan officials turned the corner and almost ran smack-bang into him. He quickly threw himself against a wall, and tripped the last official, who also tumbled into the wall. The rest of them looked back startled at the noise, and noticed the downed official, who smiled foolishly with embaressment. "You'ld better watch your feet Sardok, the Empress doesn't favor those who can't even control their own feet." They all turned back around and just three seconds later Tyson's cloak de-activated. He quickly began to follow them through the turns, which corresponded with the route to the Empress' office. He activate his cloak when neccessary to make it past cameras and to avoid being seen by other Romulans going about their buisness. On the last leg of the route the Romulans stopped at a turbolift. Tyson, who had found himself right on their tale trying to avoid cameras and make it through doors they opened, slipped in front of them and entered the turbolift first, cloak still running. The Romulans entered and turned about in order to exit facing the right way. Tyson, now behind him, began to watch his cloak's count-down timer in his HUD. It'ld better not be a long way up.... It was. Tyson watched with anxiety as his cloak timer ran down...3.....2....1.....and he became visible again. He let his active camo blend into the wall, but he was still quite visible, especially at such close range. He was ducked into the lift with his neck bent and his shoulders slouched, literally breathing down their necks, albeit as little as possible. Tyson was just waiting for one of them to notice him. It wouldn't matter, they'ld all die a quick and violent death in the confined area, but his cover would be blown.
"Ragnoth, you should clean yourself before your meetings. You reek!"
"Clean yourself you rathgan! I showered just before I came up!"
"SCILENCE! The Empress will have our heads for such foolish banter."
What the Romulans where really smelling was Tyson, who was soaked with sweat after working his way to this point, and covered in gear to boot. Tyson realized he may have another problem to add to his quickly growing list, if the doors opened before his cloak recharged, he would be visible to any cameras or gaurds. As soon as it recharged, he turned it back on, and then two seconds later the doors opened and the Romulans filed out to go through one last security check before metting with the empress. They where patted down for weapons, scanned, retinal scanned, finger-print scanned, DNA scanned, and then let through. Tyson took advantage of the oppulant furnishings to climb around the security checks, and duck behind a large statue for his cloak to return. Once it did, he made his way into the Empress' office, along with his Romulan tag-alongs. He hid behind another large statue and waited for the Empress to arrive. When she did, she came in through another set of doors from her smaller more private office to meet with the Romulan officials. Tyson saw his oppertunity and sprinted for the door before it shut, cloak on. He slipped in right before it slowly swung shut. He found himself alone in her office, and immediately slipped his own device into her computer.
"Skewer One to Skewer Two, sorry for the wait. Proceed with hacking and make it quick!" Tyson crouched behind her desk so as to remain unnoticed while his cloak was off.
- Dino27Captain (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-05-20
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 1435
Location : P.C.G. York ready room
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Mon Aug 26, 2013 9:45 pm
Twenty-two minutes inside the Neutral Zone at warp 8.7
The turbolift came to a stop at deck 1. Vardok stepped out as the door opened, he walked across the bridge, nodded to D'Avek, and entered his ready-room. Commander Nala was waiting for him.
"I'm so sorry Vardok! I..." But S'ren didn't let her finish.
"No Nala. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't understand you. Those guards wouldn't have hesitated to gun us down if Nora'dex found out who we really are. You have nothing to be sorry for, you saved our lives back there Nala." Commander Telth'Alore replied loudly. Much too loudly for the small room they were in. Her words ran together, and she seemed to be having trouble speaking, and thinking, clearly.
"But I do have something to be slorry for! I have everything to be sorry for! That was all my fault! I was in charge of redoing that room! I'm the one who didn't hang that banner right! I didn't hang that banner right! And my love of Romulan Ale almost got us killed back there! I hate that stuff! I won't be it's slave! Not anymore! I couldn't think... I couldn't think... I couldn't slee clearly... I didn't know what to do. I'm tired of all the lies Vardok! I didn't know what to do. My mistake almost killed you... I didn't know what to do. I don't deserve this command... I..." but she couldn't go on. She was almost a total wreck now. Vardok stepped closer to her. He could smell the ale on her breath. She was crying uncontrollably now. He didn't know what to think, much less what to do.
"Nala. Easy Nala. Don't be so hard on yourself Nala. You didn't get anyone killed. You did your job well. Amazingly well. It isn't your fault. You do deserve your command. You are an intelligent and determined woman. A bit unorthodox maybe, but you are a capable commander Nala, and I wouldn't have anyone else as my first officer on this mission" Nala hugged him.
"Thank you Vardok. I don't know why you want me for your flirst officler after dinner." His gentle words had seemed to calm, if not comfort, her to some degree. Nala was now mumbling something about Klingons cheating at chess. How did she think of so good a plan when she was so... so drank? Vardok wondered.
"I think it's time you got some rest Nala." S'ren tapped his wrist-comm.
"Connect me with T'nai. Doctor, please send a nurse with a sedative to quarters one-sixty-three. Something to help Commander Telth'Alore sleep a solid eight hours. Thank you, Vardok out." Vardok paused to think. She's in no condition to walk down there. Even if she could, she's had enough embarrassment for one evening, and her stumbling through the halls once is bad enough, she doesn't need to be carried there.... "Computer, site-to-site transport. Two to beam to quarters one-six-three." Green light swirled about them as the vanished from S'ren's ready-room and reappeared in the vacant guest quarters.
"Computer, hold door open for the nurse." The computer chimed a happy three tone reply, and opened the door. Vardok gently lead Commander Nala to a chair and got her seated in it.
"Can I get you something to drink Nala?" Vardok offered.
"Romulan Ale!" Nala replied.
"No, I think you've had enough of that for now. Why do you drink that stuff anyway?" He questioned, more to himself than to her.
"Because I'm alone." She answered. "Because T'vok is dead." She stately bluntly.
"Who's T'vok?" Vardok wondered aloud as he got a tea from the replicator.
"My husband. He's dead. Forty-four years ago. Tal Shiar killed him. Forty-four years ago. So now I'm alone, 'cept for Romulan Ale." Vardok dropped the tea. The cup shattered on the floor. Nala continued her explanation.
"So that's who T'vok Telth'Alore is. I drink 'cause I'm alone. All alone." There was silence in the room for five minutes.
"I... I... I'm so sorry Nala." Vardok managed.
"Sorry. Don't be sorry. You look just like him. Didn't know... didn't know how much I missed him till I met you. I used to just drink when I was off duty. When I thought I was alone. Duty... Duty always comes first. Duty takes up everything. There's no time to hurt. No time to hurt. Now I know I'm alone. And there's no time for duty. No time. How do ya think I stayed Commander for forty-four stinkin' years? Like this? Only when I thought I was alone and nobody cared. When duty didn't need me." Just then the nurse tapped on the open door.
"Come." Vardok said in a husky voice.
"Here's the medication you ordered Sir." Vardok motioned to Commander Nala. The nurse applied the hypospray and Nala immediately settled.
"It's going to be okay. This will help you sleep Subcommander. The nurse assured Nala. In a few minutes, Nala was fast asleep.
"Commander, I'm concerned that she might fall out of that chair. She'll get a better quality of rest in her bed." Vardok nodded. He lifted Nala from the lounge chair in his strong arms and carried her over to the guest bed. The nurse pulled the covers off the bed and S'ren set the Commander down. The nurse adjusted the bedding and then they both left the room.
"Thank you nurse." Vardok said.
"No problem Sir. Might I suggest that you get some rest?" Vardok rubbed his hands across his face, he hadn't had more than a couple hours sleep in the last two days, there simply hasn't been time.
"An excellent idea. Goodnight." And with that the Commander headed off to his own quarters.
Several hours later
Vardok stood on the bridge. The red alert blared. One Imperial Valdore type Warbird and three T'liss type Imperial Warbirds were baring down on them. Tovan Khev, Vardok's first officer, spoke above the pounding of the enemy disruptor cannons and the shaking of the bridge as the ship took direct hit from a Plasma torpedo.
"Seems it was a trap, eh Vardok?." A scared Uhlan offered his take on the situation.
"SIR! SHIELDS AT FORTY-TWO PERCENT AND DROPPING FAST! MAJOR DAMAGE ON DECKS FOUR, FIVE, SEVEN, NINE, AND TWELVE! DAMAGE ON DECKS THREE, SIX, EIGHT, AND THIRTEEN! WE CAN'T TAKE MUCH MORE OF THIS!" Vardok wasn't too worried.
"Easy Uhlan." Turning to Tovan, he spoke again. "You're right, as usual. Never trust a Breen. Especially one who we know to be a Tal Shiar informer. What does that make it? Seventy-nine out of eighty-six? You're good Mr. Khev." Vardok grinned. Tovan was more than just his first officer, he was his best friend.
"Nothing I didn't know already Vardok. And that's eighty-three out of eighty-two." S'ren rolled his eyes. He can still be a pain in the neck at times. Why does he always have to be right?
"Bring her about Uhlan!" Vardok commanded, "Full Impulse. Target the flanking Warbird with everything we've got."
The powerful Talan class Warbird Alth'Indor, phoenix in English, spun about, faced the starboard-most enemy ship, and rocketed with engines roaring towards her prey. She unleashed a barrage of lethal disruptor fire, tearing through enemy shields and armor alike. A full spread of photon torpedoes followed, easily finishing off the doomed vessel. The Star Empire was not content with defeat however. The other three Warbirds had already come about, and were pummeling the heavily outnumbered Republic ship with a mighty spray of disruptors.
"SHIELDS AT THIRTY-FOUR PERCENT! TWENTY-EIGHT PERCENT SIR!" The Uhlan said as a photon torpedo slammed into the Alth'Indor with devastating effect.
"Give them a taste of the plasma cannons." Commander Vardok ordered. The Alth'Indor's heavy plasma cannons spewed out neon green death. The superheated gas beam collided with an enemy Warbird, tearing through its shields and causing it's quantum singularity to go critical and explode in a shower of debris, fire, and a sphere of black nothingness that was the ship's power core, a miniature black hole no longer tamed by Romulan hands.
The two remaining ships turned about and spit disruptor beams and photon torpedoes into their Republic enemy. The ship shook under the immense fire she was taking.
"SIR! SHIELDS AND EIGHTEEN PERCENT! AND YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THE STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY!" The Uhlan said in a panicked yell.
"Bring her about zero-zero-four-six point two-two-three-mark-eight-one-three. Fire disruptors and the plasma torpedo launcher." S'ren commanded. The nimble Talon class Warbird spun about, fired her disruptors, and prepared to fire her plasma torpedo launcher.
"We could use that backup now...." Tovan Khev pointed out. It was the last thing he would ever say.
An enemy photon torpedo slammed into the Alth'Indor's just launched plasma torpedo. Both erupted in a brilliant explosion. The ship's shields failed instantly. Consoles exploded in showers of sparks on the bridge as a massive chunk of armor and hull around the command center was torn away. Main power went offline.
The vacuum of space reached it's cold, unfeeling hands into the bridge of the Alth'Indor, and grabbed at air, debris, and crew alike. Several Uhlans went flying outside into the dark, deadly depths of space immediately. Everyone held onto what they could, chairs, consoles, railing. But it was not enough. All sound was lost over the roaring of the air being ripped from the bridge.
Centurion Tara'lok's chair came unbolted from the deck, and she went hurtling out towards space. Tovan Khev leaped to try to help her hold on. But even his strong body, surging with adrenalin, was no much for the might of space. He held onto the Centurion with his right hand with all all his strength. He gripped for the railing. But he could not get a firm hold on it. He flew on. He still held onto Tara'lok. Vardok's scream of "TOVAN!!!" was lost to the rushing of escaping air. Khev gripped for a console, but his hand did not grip firmly for more than an instant. Vardok watched in slow motion as his closest friend was sucked out towards space, and death. Tovan grabbed onto the jagged edge of the hull, torn by the blast. The razor sharp surface cut into his hand, and green blood went flying into space. But Tovan held on. The vacuum of space, the death most feared by many men, pulled him further from the ship. Now only his hand was still inside, bleeding, torn by the jagged hull.
At the worst possible instant, the axillary power kicked in, and the emergency force field powered up, and Tovan Khev was separated from the interior of the ship. Vardok watched helplessly as his best friend since his early adult life was pulled out into the clutches of space.
Vardok jumped awake with a gasp. Cold sweat ran down his body. It had just been a dream. But it really happened... all those years ago... Tovan... no...
Audio only communication between unknown Romulan individuals
A woman's voice is heard speaking.
"Sir, I beg to report that Unit Serial Number two-six-six-seven-five-three-dash-four-nine-oh is showing signs of instability at best, high treason at worst. I am sending security footage to support my claim. I contend that subject has been unstable for years, and that matters are only escalating to even more dangerous levels. I am afraid that subject is incompetent and the entire mission is now in jeopardy." There was a long pause. A masculine voice finally replied.
"You make a major accusation, one that would benefit you greatly were it true. Your video evidence could have been... fabricated. But if this is true, then you will need to be ready to act quickly..." The feminine voice replied without hesitation.
"I will also send medical documentation, as well as evidence from a the logs of several senior officers. Unfortunately, I am afraid that this is quite true. A significant loss really, but not one that we cannot love without." The male speaker did not sound pleased at this.
"It is not for you to estimate the cost of such a loss, only to obey your orders. Subject is a master, this could simply be part of it all. And wouldn't you just like to get a promotion. You will remain in the shadows, you will gather more evidence, and you will wait for orders unless you have no choice. And believe me, I will not have to believe you, the Chairman will have to believe you to. So do not forget that should you wish to get trigger happy."
"Yes sir. I will learn more, and report back to you."
The turbolift came to a stop at deck 1. Vardok stepped out as the door opened, he walked across the bridge, nodded to D'Avek, and entered his ready-room. Commander Nala was waiting for him.
"I'm so sorry Vardok! I..." But S'ren didn't let her finish.
"No Nala. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't understand you. Those guards wouldn't have hesitated to gun us down if Nora'dex found out who we really are. You have nothing to be sorry for, you saved our lives back there Nala." Commander Telth'Alore replied loudly. Much too loudly for the small room they were in. Her words ran together, and she seemed to be having trouble speaking, and thinking, clearly.
"But I do have something to be slorry for! I have everything to be sorry for! That was all my fault! I was in charge of redoing that room! I'm the one who didn't hang that banner right! I didn't hang that banner right! And my love of Romulan Ale almost got us killed back there! I hate that stuff! I won't be it's slave! Not anymore! I couldn't think... I couldn't think... I couldn't slee clearly... I didn't know what to do. I'm tired of all the lies Vardok! I didn't know what to do. My mistake almost killed you... I didn't know what to do. I don't deserve this command... I..." but she couldn't go on. She was almost a total wreck now. Vardok stepped closer to her. He could smell the ale on her breath. She was crying uncontrollably now. He didn't know what to think, much less what to do.
"Nala. Easy Nala. Don't be so hard on yourself Nala. You didn't get anyone killed. You did your job well. Amazingly well. It isn't your fault. You do deserve your command. You are an intelligent and determined woman. A bit unorthodox maybe, but you are a capable commander Nala, and I wouldn't have anyone else as my first officer on this mission" Nala hugged him.
"Thank you Vardok. I don't know why you want me for your flirst officler after dinner." His gentle words had seemed to calm, if not comfort, her to some degree. Nala was now mumbling something about Klingons cheating at chess. How did she think of so good a plan when she was so... so drank? Vardok wondered.
"I think it's time you got some rest Nala." S'ren tapped his wrist-comm.
"Connect me with T'nai. Doctor, please send a nurse with a sedative to quarters one-sixty-three. Something to help Commander Telth'Alore sleep a solid eight hours. Thank you, Vardok out." Vardok paused to think. She's in no condition to walk down there. Even if she could, she's had enough embarrassment for one evening, and her stumbling through the halls once is bad enough, she doesn't need to be carried there.... "Computer, site-to-site transport. Two to beam to quarters one-six-three." Green light swirled about them as the vanished from S'ren's ready-room and reappeared in the vacant guest quarters.
"Computer, hold door open for the nurse." The computer chimed a happy three tone reply, and opened the door. Vardok gently lead Commander Nala to a chair and got her seated in it.
"Can I get you something to drink Nala?" Vardok offered.
"Romulan Ale!" Nala replied.
"No, I think you've had enough of that for now. Why do you drink that stuff anyway?" He questioned, more to himself than to her.
"Because I'm alone." She answered. "Because T'vok is dead." She stately bluntly.
"Who's T'vok?" Vardok wondered aloud as he got a tea from the replicator.
"My husband. He's dead. Forty-four years ago. Tal Shiar killed him. Forty-four years ago. So now I'm alone, 'cept for Romulan Ale." Vardok dropped the tea. The cup shattered on the floor. Nala continued her explanation.
"So that's who T'vok Telth'Alore is. I drink 'cause I'm alone. All alone." There was silence in the room for five minutes.
"I... I... I'm so sorry Nala." Vardok managed.
"Sorry. Don't be sorry. You look just like him. Didn't know... didn't know how much I missed him till I met you. I used to just drink when I was off duty. When I thought I was alone. Duty... Duty always comes first. Duty takes up everything. There's no time to hurt. No time to hurt. Now I know I'm alone. And there's no time for duty. No time. How do ya think I stayed Commander for forty-four stinkin' years? Like this? Only when I thought I was alone and nobody cared. When duty didn't need me." Just then the nurse tapped on the open door.
"Come." Vardok said in a husky voice.
"Here's the medication you ordered Sir." Vardok motioned to Commander Nala. The nurse applied the hypospray and Nala immediately settled.
"It's going to be okay. This will help you sleep Subcommander. The nurse assured Nala. In a few minutes, Nala was fast asleep.
"Commander, I'm concerned that she might fall out of that chair. She'll get a better quality of rest in her bed." Vardok nodded. He lifted Nala from the lounge chair in his strong arms and carried her over to the guest bed. The nurse pulled the covers off the bed and S'ren set the Commander down. The nurse adjusted the bedding and then they both left the room.
"Thank you nurse." Vardok said.
"No problem Sir. Might I suggest that you get some rest?" Vardok rubbed his hands across his face, he hadn't had more than a couple hours sleep in the last two days, there simply hasn't been time.
"An excellent idea. Goodnight." And with that the Commander headed off to his own quarters.
Several hours later
Vardok stood on the bridge. The red alert blared. One Imperial Valdore type Warbird and three T'liss type Imperial Warbirds were baring down on them. Tovan Khev, Vardok's first officer, spoke above the pounding of the enemy disruptor cannons and the shaking of the bridge as the ship took direct hit from a Plasma torpedo.
"Seems it was a trap, eh Vardok?." A scared Uhlan offered his take on the situation.
"SIR! SHIELDS AT FORTY-TWO PERCENT AND DROPPING FAST! MAJOR DAMAGE ON DECKS FOUR, FIVE, SEVEN, NINE, AND TWELVE! DAMAGE ON DECKS THREE, SIX, EIGHT, AND THIRTEEN! WE CAN'T TAKE MUCH MORE OF THIS!" Vardok wasn't too worried.
"Easy Uhlan." Turning to Tovan, he spoke again. "You're right, as usual. Never trust a Breen. Especially one who we know to be a Tal Shiar informer. What does that make it? Seventy-nine out of eighty-six? You're good Mr. Khev." Vardok grinned. Tovan was more than just his first officer, he was his best friend.
"Nothing I didn't know already Vardok. And that's eighty-three out of eighty-two." S'ren rolled his eyes. He can still be a pain in the neck at times. Why does he always have to be right?
"Bring her about Uhlan!" Vardok commanded, "Full Impulse. Target the flanking Warbird with everything we've got."
The powerful Talan class Warbird Alth'Indor, phoenix in English, spun about, faced the starboard-most enemy ship, and rocketed with engines roaring towards her prey. She unleashed a barrage of lethal disruptor fire, tearing through enemy shields and armor alike. A full spread of photon torpedoes followed, easily finishing off the doomed vessel. The Star Empire was not content with defeat however. The other three Warbirds had already come about, and were pummeling the heavily outnumbered Republic ship with a mighty spray of disruptors.
"SHIELDS AT THIRTY-FOUR PERCENT! TWENTY-EIGHT PERCENT SIR!" The Uhlan said as a photon torpedo slammed into the Alth'Indor with devastating effect.
"Give them a taste of the plasma cannons." Commander Vardok ordered. The Alth'Indor's heavy plasma cannons spewed out neon green death. The superheated gas beam collided with an enemy Warbird, tearing through its shields and causing it's quantum singularity to go critical and explode in a shower of debris, fire, and a sphere of black nothingness that was the ship's power core, a miniature black hole no longer tamed by Romulan hands.
The two remaining ships turned about and spit disruptor beams and photon torpedoes into their Republic enemy. The ship shook under the immense fire she was taking.
"SIR! SHIELDS AND EIGHTEEN PERCENT! AND YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THE STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY!" The Uhlan said in a panicked yell.
"Bring her about zero-zero-four-six point two-two-three-mark-eight-one-three. Fire disruptors and the plasma torpedo launcher." S'ren commanded. The nimble Talon class Warbird spun about, fired her disruptors, and prepared to fire her plasma torpedo launcher.
"We could use that backup now...." Tovan Khev pointed out. It was the last thing he would ever say.
An enemy photon torpedo slammed into the Alth'Indor's just launched plasma torpedo. Both erupted in a brilliant explosion. The ship's shields failed instantly. Consoles exploded in showers of sparks on the bridge as a massive chunk of armor and hull around the command center was torn away. Main power went offline.
The vacuum of space reached it's cold, unfeeling hands into the bridge of the Alth'Indor, and grabbed at air, debris, and crew alike. Several Uhlans went flying outside into the dark, deadly depths of space immediately. Everyone held onto what they could, chairs, consoles, railing. But it was not enough. All sound was lost over the roaring of the air being ripped from the bridge.
Centurion Tara'lok's chair came unbolted from the deck, and she went hurtling out towards space. Tovan Khev leaped to try to help her hold on. But even his strong body, surging with adrenalin, was no much for the might of space. He held onto the Centurion with his right hand with all all his strength. He gripped for the railing. But he could not get a firm hold on it. He flew on. He still held onto Tara'lok. Vardok's scream of "TOVAN!!!" was lost to the rushing of escaping air. Khev gripped for a console, but his hand did not grip firmly for more than an instant. Vardok watched in slow motion as his closest friend was sucked out towards space, and death. Tovan grabbed onto the jagged edge of the hull, torn by the blast. The razor sharp surface cut into his hand, and green blood went flying into space. But Tovan held on. The vacuum of space, the death most feared by many men, pulled him further from the ship. Now only his hand was still inside, bleeding, torn by the jagged hull.
At the worst possible instant, the axillary power kicked in, and the emergency force field powered up, and Tovan Khev was separated from the interior of the ship. Vardok watched helplessly as his best friend since his early adult life was pulled out into the clutches of space.
Vardok jumped awake with a gasp. Cold sweat ran down his body. It had just been a dream. But it really happened... all those years ago... Tovan... no...
Audio only communication between unknown Romulan individuals
A woman's voice is heard speaking.
"Sir, I beg to report that Unit Serial Number two-six-six-seven-five-three-dash-four-nine-oh is showing signs of instability at best, high treason at worst. I am sending security footage to support my claim. I contend that subject has been unstable for years, and that matters are only escalating to even more dangerous levels. I am afraid that subject is incompetent and the entire mission is now in jeopardy." There was a long pause. A masculine voice finally replied.
"You make a major accusation, one that would benefit you greatly were it true. Your video evidence could have been... fabricated. But if this is true, then you will need to be ready to act quickly..." The feminine voice replied without hesitation.
"I will also send medical documentation, as well as evidence from a the logs of several senior officers. Unfortunately, I am afraid that this is quite true. A significant loss really, but not one that we cannot love without." The male speaker did not sound pleased at this.
"It is not for you to estimate the cost of such a loss, only to obey your orders. Subject is a master, this could simply be part of it all. And wouldn't you just like to get a promotion. You will remain in the shadows, you will gather more evidence, and you will wait for orders unless you have no choice. And believe me, I will not have to believe you, the Chairman will have to believe you to. So do not forget that should you wish to get trigger happy."
"Yes sir. I will learn more, and report back to you."
LonestarCaptain (PCG)- Join date : 2013-05-21
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 583
Location : Classified
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Tue Aug 27, 2013 7:47 pm
[OOC to Dino: I am thoroughly enjoying your subplot. Lately it's been one of the main things that motivates me to check the SoL. 
End OOC]
[OOC to All: Fairly soon now, I will be posting a GM (i.e. red colored-bold print) selection announcing the end of the first day and the beginning of the second day leading up to the assault on Rator III. The third day will not actually be the day of the assault, but instead the day in which the recon teams finish gathering their information and report their findings to their allies. Also on the third day, some reinforcements will arrive to aid the SoL. The fourth day will be that long-awaited day of assault.
End OOC]
End OOC][OOC to All: Fairly soon now, I will be posting a GM (i.e. red colored-bold print) selection announcing the end of the first day and the beginning of the second day leading up to the assault on Rator III. The third day will not actually be the day of the assault, but instead the day in which the recon teams finish gathering their information and report their findings to their allies. Also on the third day, some reinforcements will arrive to aid the SoL. The fourth day will be that long-awaited day of assault.
End OOC]- ForgeRecruit (No Affiliation)
- Join date : 2013-05-20
Faction : De-Factioned
Posts : 1065
Location : Lost in a decimated city
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Tue Aug 27, 2013 8:06 pm
OOC: @scare: four days to topple the Romulans?
- Dino27Captain (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-05-20
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 1435
Location : P.C.G. York ready room
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Tue Aug 27, 2013 8:54 pm
[OOC Um.... I think I just started that second day... Of course... my character is out of time sink with everyone else from having been away, so any time differences can be explained as having to do with him having been in warp and we're just now seeing what was happening.... yeah.... that sounds kind of pathetic.. Anyways, thank you Scare. I have been thoroughly enjoying it myself... this might be the most fun (non building related anyway) I've had in the PCG.... period... Great roleplay, you encouraged me to step outside humanity and try something new.
AA you don't think...
"No! It can't possibly be!!! Not that! Anything but that!"
"Don't you know it?" *wink*
(This is me on five hours sleep.... I hope you find this half as amusing as I do. ) End OOC}
Of course... my character is out of time sink with everyone else from having been away, so any time differences can be explained as having to do with him having been in warp and we're just now seeing what was happening.... yeah.... that sounds kind of pathetic.. Anyways, thank you Scare. I have been thoroughly enjoying it myself... this might be the most fun (non building related anyway) I've had in the PCG.... period... Great roleplay, you encouraged me to step outside humanity and try something new. AA you don't think...
"No! It can't possibly be!!! Not that! Anything but that!"
"Don't you know it?" *wink*
(This is me on five hours sleep.... I hope you find this half as amusing as I do.
) End OOC}- LonestarCaptain (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-05-21
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 583
Location : Classified
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Tue Aug 27, 2013 9:11 pm
@Ant: It is NOT escalating things quickly! I gave specific allusions to how long until the assault begins in a former post! YOU'VE NOT BEEN READING OBVIOUSLY! FIE! FIE UPON YOU! JK
@Dino: Nice Rommie pictures, man! And gee, get some sleep and lay off the Mountain Dew.
JK@Dino: Nice Rommie pictures, man! And gee, get some sleep and lay off the Mountain Dew.
- Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)
- Join date : 2013-06-15
Faction : MSI
Posts : 482
Location : MSI space.
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Tue Aug 27, 2013 9:22 pm
[OoC: No wonder I feel so welcome here, we're all crazy! /OoC]
/OoC]- Andre TholvelCEO
- Join date : 2013-05-19
Posts : 381
Location : Aboard the IFS Varda, viewing construction of the next flagship.
Character sheet
Faction:
Species: Human
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Wed Aug 28, 2013 7:35 am
[OOC] My class has proved much more of an adversary than I first imagined. I may not be able to finish my subplot, in which case Ant is more than welcome to take control of the two others and do it himself. [/OOC]
TalmidCommander (PCG)- Join date : 2013-07-12
Faction : United Federation of Planets
Posts : 838
Location : Earth
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Wed Aug 28, 2013 11:47 am
[OOC] Yay, reinforcements! I apologize that Star Fleet could not send a more sizable fleet, but.... politics. [/OOC]
[/OOC]- LonestarCaptain (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-05-21
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 583
Location : Classified
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Thu Aug 29, 2013 7:20 pm
[OOC to Supe: WHAT????????? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! End OOC]
- Dino27Captain (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-05-20
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 1435
Location : P.C.G. York ready room
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Thu Aug 29, 2013 9:39 pm
[OOC There was no caffeine or sugar involved. I just couldn't sleep. I ended up sleeping in school though, AFTER I got my work done of course. End OOC]
Several hours across the Neutral Zone
Vardok was asleep again, but his dreams were still haunted by the past. He stood in an open space in a small Romulan colony town, Virinat, his home as a young adult. The Maiori* stood on a stage in front of a large crowd. (Well, it was large for Virinat colony, the entire population of the town, several hundred Romulan men, women, and children) stood, awaiting their leader's speech. It was a holiday, the celebration of the Tapping festival. Virint was a peaceful farming world where the most dangerous enemy known were large local insects that normally left the inhabitants alone.
But tonight, insects would be the least of their worries. Life as Vardok knew it, and for most on that innocent world, life itself, ended as hostile fire rained down from the sky, killing Maiori Malem instantly. Vardok was knocked senseless to the ground by the force of the blast. He awoke a minute later to Tovan Khev's worried face, disruptor fire, and the screams of colonists. Vardok's once peaceful home world was now in utter chaos.
Events blurred together now. Taking a disruptor rifle from a dead security officer, they strange, alien probes swooping down on his friends from above, and carrying them away screaming to he knew not where. He saw himself, the farm-boy son of freighter captioning parents, use that disruptor rifle with surprising skill that came from desperation and practice at the holo-range. He fired again and again at the invading Tal Shiar ground forces. But no matter how many he killed, there were always more beaming down or landing in shuttles. The sweat, the blood, the adrenaline, the sting of smoke in his eyes; he could remember it all so painfully clearly.
The strange alien probes continued to dive, grab his friends, and take them away, screaming in terror. He was too slow to even aim at most of the alien things, and by the time he had aimed at the few he had time to, they had colonists in their claws and he dared not fire. He saw smoke, flame, dusk, and flying debris cloud the sky. His home was in flames, the buildings crumbling, his friends taken away. They finally made it to the shuttles. Even as they boarded, he could still hear the shrieks of pain and fear, screams that would torment him to the day he died.
Time blurred in his mind. He was aboard a Tal Shiar ship. He was a prisoner, but this imprisonment was far worse than mere torture. They had implanted some sort of cruel device in his head. He was forced to obey their commands. He resisted. But it was to no avail. He remembered obeying the order to shoot one of his own crew, and in the dream, he did not remember that what he shot was only a hologram. He remembered being forced to build Thalaron radiation weapons... weapons that would be used to kill his own people in ways outlawed because of their massively destructive, horribly painful, albeit rapid, manner of function. He clearly recalled testing one of those weapons on live animals. Their deaths were almost instantaneous, but it did not comfort him.
And then the most painful memory of those several weeks of agony. He remembered inserting a Borg optical implant into a Romulan Republic prisoner. The Romulan begged with the "scientists" in the room as they prepared the device. Vardok carried the finished implant over to the prisoner. The man looked at him in terror. Vardok tried to resist, but the technology in his head would allow no other course of action. The man screamed in pain as the device was installed into his body. Vardok was ordered to install a second device into this man. And he could not refuse. He was a helpless bystander in his own body.
Vardok attached the Borg arm piece to the test subject. The Romulan was assimilated, not by the Borg, but by the Tal Shiar, his own people. The drone spoke.
"You will be assimilated. Your culture will adapt to serve as ours. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own." And he looked right at Vardok with his red, Borg eye device. Vardok knew that this thing would now kill him if it could, and he knew that his actions would inevitably lead to the death of this man. The drone opened his mouth again.
"Commander S'ren!" There was a pause, "Commander S'ren!" it said, louder this time. "Resistance is futile."
Vardok fell out of his bed, now awake, but still confused.
"Commander S'ren, can you hear me? Are you alright Sir?" It was T'nai. Vardok fumbled for his wrist com and tapped it.
"Yes doctor. I read you. What's up?" He said, glancing at his clock. It was 03:30 hours**
"Sorry to wake you Sir, but our patient is awake and he demands to see the ship's commanding officer. I found something... interesting on him, but the man insists that he speak with the Commander personally."
"I'll be right down doctor." Vardok got up, stumbled over the coffee table, ordered the computer to activate the lights, found his robe, put it on over his t-shirt and shorts, picked up his micro disruptor and put it in his pocket locked on safe, put on some clogs, and headed for the med bay.
[OOC
* Maiori = mayor/governor
** that's 3:30 AM for you people like me who have to look it up.
- Yes, this history is straight from STO, but I'm only including it to add background to the characters/to add interest to the story/because I have to write SOMETHING in the next three days (AKA, two weeks IRL time)
- Yes, yes I am coming up with a lot of this as I go along, and I am sorry for typos and inconsistencies... I might just make a PCG story out of this and retcon stuff to have it make sense.
End OOC]
I ended up sleeping in school though, AFTER I got my work done of course. End OOC]Several hours across the Neutral Zone
Vardok was asleep again, but his dreams were still haunted by the past. He stood in an open space in a small Romulan colony town, Virinat, his home as a young adult. The Maiori* stood on a stage in front of a large crowd. (Well, it was large for Virinat colony, the entire population of the town, several hundred Romulan men, women, and children) stood, awaiting their leader's speech. It was a holiday, the celebration of the Tapping festival. Virint was a peaceful farming world where the most dangerous enemy known were large local insects that normally left the inhabitants alone.
But tonight, insects would be the least of their worries. Life as Vardok knew it, and for most on that innocent world, life itself, ended as hostile fire rained down from the sky, killing Maiori Malem instantly. Vardok was knocked senseless to the ground by the force of the blast. He awoke a minute later to Tovan Khev's worried face, disruptor fire, and the screams of colonists. Vardok's once peaceful home world was now in utter chaos.
Events blurred together now. Taking a disruptor rifle from a dead security officer, they strange, alien probes swooping down on his friends from above, and carrying them away screaming to he knew not where. He saw himself, the farm-boy son of freighter captioning parents, use that disruptor rifle with surprising skill that came from desperation and practice at the holo-range. He fired again and again at the invading Tal Shiar ground forces. But no matter how many he killed, there were always more beaming down or landing in shuttles. The sweat, the blood, the adrenaline, the sting of smoke in his eyes; he could remember it all so painfully clearly.
The strange alien probes continued to dive, grab his friends, and take them away, screaming in terror. He was too slow to even aim at most of the alien things, and by the time he had aimed at the few he had time to, they had colonists in their claws and he dared not fire. He saw smoke, flame, dusk, and flying debris cloud the sky. His home was in flames, the buildings crumbling, his friends taken away. They finally made it to the shuttles. Even as they boarded, he could still hear the shrieks of pain and fear, screams that would torment him to the day he died.
Time blurred in his mind. He was aboard a Tal Shiar ship. He was a prisoner, but this imprisonment was far worse than mere torture. They had implanted some sort of cruel device in his head. He was forced to obey their commands. He resisted. But it was to no avail. He remembered obeying the order to shoot one of his own crew, and in the dream, he did not remember that what he shot was only a hologram. He remembered being forced to build Thalaron radiation weapons... weapons that would be used to kill his own people in ways outlawed because of their massively destructive, horribly painful, albeit rapid, manner of function. He clearly recalled testing one of those weapons on live animals. Their deaths were almost instantaneous, but it did not comfort him.
And then the most painful memory of those several weeks of agony. He remembered inserting a Borg optical implant into a Romulan Republic prisoner. The Romulan begged with the "scientists" in the room as they prepared the device. Vardok carried the finished implant over to the prisoner. The man looked at him in terror. Vardok tried to resist, but the technology in his head would allow no other course of action. The man screamed in pain as the device was installed into his body. Vardok was ordered to install a second device into this man. And he could not refuse. He was a helpless bystander in his own body.
Vardok attached the Borg arm piece to the test subject. The Romulan was assimilated, not by the Borg, but by the Tal Shiar, his own people. The drone spoke.
"You will be assimilated. Your culture will adapt to serve as ours. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own." And he looked right at Vardok with his red, Borg eye device. Vardok knew that this thing would now kill him if it could, and he knew that his actions would inevitably lead to the death of this man. The drone opened his mouth again.
"Commander S'ren!" There was a pause, "Commander S'ren!" it said, louder this time. "Resistance is futile."
Vardok fell out of his bed, now awake, but still confused.
"Commander S'ren, can you hear me? Are you alright Sir?" It was T'nai. Vardok fumbled for his wrist com and tapped it.
"Yes doctor. I read you. What's up?" He said, glancing at his clock. It was 03:30 hours**
"Sorry to wake you Sir, but our patient is awake and he demands to see the ship's commanding officer. I found something... interesting on him, but the man insists that he speak with the Commander personally."
"I'll be right down doctor." Vardok got up, stumbled over the coffee table, ordered the computer to activate the lights, found his robe, put it on over his t-shirt and shorts, picked up his micro disruptor and put it in his pocket locked on safe, put on some clogs, and headed for the med bay.
[OOC
* Maiori = mayor/governor
** that's 3:30 AM for you people like me who have to look it up.
- Yes, this history is straight from STO, but I'm only including it to add background to the characters/to add interest to the story/because I have to write SOMETHING in the next three days (AKA, two weeks IRL time)
- Yes, yes I am coming up with a lot of this as I go along,
and I am sorry for typos and inconsistencies... I might just make a PCG story out of this and retcon stuff to have it make sense. End OOC]
- LonestarCaptain (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-05-21
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 583
Location : Classified
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Fri Aug 30, 2013 10:21 am
[OOC to All: If it were not for Dino's posts, I fear this RPG would fall apart. Everybody must be doing school...course, I guess I am, too. End OOC]
Everybody must be doing school...course, I guess I am, too. End OOC]- TalmidCommander (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-07-12
Faction : United Federation of Planets
Posts : 838
Location : Earth
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Fri Aug 30, 2013 12:15 pm
Unbeknownst to Gary, or anyone else, the Fleet Captain had yet more plans....
The Talmidon, under Dave's command, went on its way back to Alpha Centauri Fleet Yards, but not before launching a Merrimack Class shuttle piloted by Fleet Captain Talmid. The shuttle subsequently rendezvoused with the USS Melodramatic, currently on a "science mission" in some nebula.
Knowing that politics were about to go crazy, Talmid had ordered various skeleton crews to take command of various starships and go on some "science missions." These starships were, in pretty much unknown actuality, waiting on "standby" for any orders from the Fleet Captain that might come in, should the need arise.
Among these was the USS Melodramatic.
The shuttle dropped out of warp and cruised into the Ambassador Class's waiting shuttle bay. A nervous looking Lieutenant and a security crew greeted him.
"Welcome aboard, Fleet Captain." the Lieutenant said, shuffling on his feet. "I take it you're in charge?" he asked hopefully.
Talmid nodded. "Yes, Lieutenant, I am. You are relieved."
"Thank you sir." the Lieutenant said, glad to be out of the captain's chair.
[OOC] Talmid's up to something. [/OOC]
The Talmidon, under Dave's command, went on its way back to Alpha Centauri Fleet Yards, but not before launching a Merrimack Class shuttle piloted by Fleet Captain Talmid. The shuttle subsequently rendezvoused with the USS Melodramatic, currently on a "science mission" in some nebula.
Knowing that politics were about to go crazy, Talmid had ordered various skeleton crews to take command of various starships and go on some "science missions." These starships were, in pretty much unknown actuality, waiting on "standby" for any orders from the Fleet Captain that might come in, should the need arise.
Among these was the USS Melodramatic.
The shuttle dropped out of warp and cruised into the Ambassador Class's waiting shuttle bay. A nervous looking Lieutenant and a security crew greeted him.
"Welcome aboard, Fleet Captain." the Lieutenant said, shuffling on his feet. "I take it you're in charge?" he asked hopefully.
Talmid nodded. "Yes, Lieutenant, I am. You are relieved."
"Thank you sir." the Lieutenant said, glad to be out of the captain's chair.
[OOC] Talmid's up to something. [/OOC]
- Dino27Captain (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-05-20
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 1435
Location : P.C.G. York ready room
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Fri Aug 30, 2013 3:21 pm
[OOC school is doing a number on me too, notice my posts are now coming at about 1/2 to 1/3 their previous speed.
I talked to Gandalf, he might join! 
End OOC]
I talked to Gandalf, he might join!
End OOC]
- LonestarCaptain (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-05-21
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 583
Location : Classified
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Fri Aug 30, 2013 4:26 pm
[OOC to Dino: GANDY????????????!!!!!!!!!!!! It's about time! Wait...he MIGHT join?? That is a dangerous thought... End OOC]
End OOC]- Dino27Captain (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-05-20
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 1435
Location : P.C.G. York ready room
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Fri Aug 30, 2013 11:06 pm
Several hours inside the Neutral Zone
Vardok was greeted by T'nai as he walked into sickbay.
"Alright. What's the matter doctor? Why couldn't this wait until tomorrow morning?" Vardok looked about as well as he had slept in the past few hours, in short, terrible. He had dark circles under his half closed eyes, his hair was a tousled mess, and his gray robe wouldn't pass for a uniform even on a deep space outpost on the far side of Republic space.
"Commander, I discovered something interesting on our patient. I was examining his wounds, when I found his family tattoo. I don't know why, but I was curious about it. So I looked it up in our data-base. Do you know what family he comes from?" Doctor T'nai paused for effect here, "He is from the family S'Teveirr." Vardok's expression remained blank for a moment, then his eyebrows raised in question.
"You mean..." Vardok asked, and then the doctor replied
"That's right. The same family as the General who Nora'dex said commanded the invasion force. The family records are very clear. They are a powerful family. And this is an old man. Much too old to be a Centurion from a powerful family. And besides, there are no records of anyone within even thirty years of this man's biological age holding any rank below Commander. Which can only mean..." This news brought Vardok much more awake than a minute ago.
"Then Centurion isn't his true rank. He's not who he's dressed to be...." Vardok concluded.
"Whoever he is, he is alive, awake, and he demanded to speak with the ship's commanding officer personally, and immediately." Both Commander and doctor walked over to the intensive care biobed.
The patient was connected to a plethora of wires, sensors, and other medical devices. Green blood pumped from a blood-gas infuser, through a feed tube into the Centurion. Rust colored blood pumped out another tube back to the device. His very weak heartbeat, respiration, temperature, and brain activity were displayed on a biofunction monitor above the biobed. Two IVs hung above the biobed, one filled with an unknown mixture of fluids, the other with Romulan blood of the same type as the patient's. A breathing tube was placed over the Centurion's mouth. Automatic Dermal-regenerators, Osteo-regenerators, and Vascular regenerators sat at various points around his body. The Centurion's lips moved.
"Is this... the Commander?" The man asked, his voice only audible because it was amplified.
"Yes. This is the ship's commanding officer." T'nai stated.
"Commander Vardok S'ryn. You wanted to speak with me?" Commander S'ren was very interested in all this.
"Leave. Leave us doctor." The Centurion commanded.
"Very well, as it's the only way you'll calm down. Don't get more worked up than you already are and injure yourself further, as it is, you're in one piece thanks to autosutures, cellular microstructures, and several hours on the operating table." The doctor left them to talk, closed the curtain, and, once out of sight, made certain that the listening device was still working. It was.
"Now then, Centurion, or is it General? You had something you wanted to talk about?" Vardok questioned. The patient, whatever rank he was, was very old, and, despite the best medical care a Starfleet sickbay could provide, and a multitude of bandages, burns and deep cuts still covered his body, though they were greatly reduced compared to when he was first beamed aboard the Alth'Indor. The old Romulan was clearly very weak, and in a lot of pain.
"Au'e*. Au'e." Replied the Imperial officer, "I am not a Centurion. I... I am General Aloyn S'Teveirr." He stopped, short of breath. "Watch... Watch your doctor. He... he is too smart... too crafty. Never turn your back on a man... a man like that." The General paused, again short of breath.
"Why conceal your identity, General?" Vardok asked.
"I... I did not wish to die... to die... in disgrace. That... that is not a fitting death for an old soldier. If I died... died with my fleet. I would be... be a hero. Honored for my... my sacrifice. If I return..." he coughed, uncontrollably, for almost a minute, "If I return to Rator III, without my fleet. Leaving them..." he coughed again, "leaving them as vaporized debris... and save my own life..." and he coughed again, a wet cough now. Loud, racking, and long.
The doctor heard it and came in again.
"Easy now. This will help." He applied a hypospray to Aloyn's neck, and pressed down, releasing medication into his patient.
In a minute, Aloyn's breathing had returned to normal and the cough was gone. The General continued.
"If I died fighting for our people... I would be a hero. I did not ask to leave. I... I would have stayed... I would have died with my men. But the nurse and Nora'dex pulled me out of there... pulled me out. They... they thought they were saving me. Saving me... to die as an old man, the laughingstock of the navy. To die gumming my food, listening to my name mocked... mocked in the drinking songs of the taverns... I... I could not live in death. So... so Aloyn S'Teveirr died in his last battle... I had my guards... my guards dress me in the uniform of a Centurion... a Centurion who died shortly after... after we got in the escape pod." The old Romulan trailed off. He was very tired, he was still very close to death. But Vardok needed to know more, there were still many unanswered questions.
"Why did you attack lloann'mhrahel** across the Neutral Zone?" Commander S'ren asked.
"I... I did not." Aloyn replied.
"But the battle took place there." Vardok stated.
"Not by my order... not by my order. I... I would never be so foolish as to give up... give up our own territory. To... to make an attack... an attack that would lead to war. My orders were to defend, not to attack." Aloyn paused, his strength failing. "Commander Nora'dex gave the order to attack. It... it was the night shift. I was asleep. Nora'dex had... had the command. He... he wanted glory. He... he was jealous. What... what a prideful fool. He wanted... wanted my rank. Wanted me to die... Or fail. If he lead the fleet to... to victory. Or, if we were defeated... if we were defeated, and I lead... lead a foolhardy attack and survived to limp home... he... he would get my rank. Would say... say I was lying. At 'best' the Empress would personally rip my badge.... badge of rank from my body. At worst... At worst I would die at the hands of the Tal Shiar as... as punishment... for... for failing my people." The old soldier stopped now, very tired from the effort.
"Why are you telling me this General? What do you want me to do?" Vardok asked.
"Two things," Aloyn managed to say, "one... never tell anyone... who I am. Swear to me.... swear Vardok... that you... that you and your doctor... will never tell... never tell anyone that I am anything but a Centurion." General S'Teveirr pleaded with Commander Vardok with his eyes. S'ren gulped at this. This was one favor he could not grant, and he could not bring himself to lie to this man. The general looked desperate now.
"That. Is. An. Order. Commander. S'ryn." Aloyn said, his voice growing fainter. Vardok nodded. He would never tell anyone in the Empire who this man was. The wishes of this hardened old officer would be kept; his name would never be mocked on Rator III.
"And second?" Vardok said in a very serious, very respectful voice.
"Second..." The old man said, "bring me a dagger. A dagger. Let me die, so that... so that Aloyn S'Teveirr might truly die... die the hero that he was. I am no coward... I will not... will not live... live past my own death. There is nothing... nothing for me now." Vardok was horrified. He could not help this man kill himself. This man was not like the Romulans of the Tal Shiar. He was a true patriot. Deceived, yes, prideful, yes, bigoted, yes, but not a monster. Vardok did not, could not, hate him. He could not be a party to murder. He backed away slowly from the biobed.
"No. No." He said, softly, but firmly. The old man's hand shot out with surprising speed. He grabbed onto Vardok's sleeve with all of his very limited strength. Driven by sheer will and adrenaline, the old officer was amazingly strong for a man who had been on his deathbed three hours before.
"You must!" His yell was faint, barely above a whisper for a healthy man. But the emotion, the pain, and the determination were all clearly there. "Let me die! I beg it of you! And I... I have never... never... never begged anyone for anything in all my one-hundred-ninety-three years of life! Please! I command you! I order you! I implore you! Please bring me a dagger. I shall die by my own hand. You would... would only be following my orders. There is... nothing... nothing left for me in life now! I could not live... live with myself... were I to live a cowherd! I must die! Die for my people! Let me die! LET ME DIE!" The old man was frantic now. Vardok pulled away from his grip, and stepped slowly backward.
"Doctor!" The Commander called. Vardok's heart raced, sweat trickled down his brow. In his ninety plus years commanding a ship, he had been in some very painful times, but few situations had been as heart wrenching as this.
The General spoke no more. His arm slumped against the bed, his heartbeat had risen too high. He was too exhausted to say anymore.
Doctor T'nai came back in.
"Sir," the chief medical officer said, "I must insist that you let the patient rest, much more strain will kill him."
"Doctor," Vardok said, "The Centurion is suicidal. I suggest you sedate and restrain him." T'nai nodded, took out a hypospray and gave it to Aloyn. Then he disappeared for a minute, and returned with a set of restraints, which he placed on the arms and legs of the "Centurion."
[OOC
* au'e = oh, yes
** lloann'mhrahel = them from there = Federation
End OOC]
Vardok was greeted by T'nai as he walked into sickbay.
"Alright. What's the matter doctor? Why couldn't this wait until tomorrow morning?" Vardok looked about as well as he had slept in the past few hours, in short, terrible. He had dark circles under his half closed eyes, his hair was a tousled mess, and his gray robe wouldn't pass for a uniform even on a deep space outpost on the far side of Republic space.
"Commander, I discovered something interesting on our patient. I was examining his wounds, when I found his family tattoo. I don't know why, but I was curious about it. So I looked it up in our data-base. Do you know what family he comes from?" Doctor T'nai paused for effect here, "He is from the family S'Teveirr." Vardok's expression remained blank for a moment, then his eyebrows raised in question.
"You mean..." Vardok asked, and then the doctor replied
"That's right. The same family as the General who Nora'dex said commanded the invasion force. The family records are very clear. They are a powerful family. And this is an old man. Much too old to be a Centurion from a powerful family. And besides, there are no records of anyone within even thirty years of this man's biological age holding any rank below Commander. Which can only mean..." This news brought Vardok much more awake than a minute ago.
"Then Centurion isn't his true rank. He's not who he's dressed to be...." Vardok concluded.
"Whoever he is, he is alive, awake, and he demanded to speak with the ship's commanding officer personally, and immediately." Both Commander and doctor walked over to the intensive care biobed.
The patient was connected to a plethora of wires, sensors, and other medical devices. Green blood pumped from a blood-gas infuser, through a feed tube into the Centurion. Rust colored blood pumped out another tube back to the device. His very weak heartbeat, respiration, temperature, and brain activity were displayed on a biofunction monitor above the biobed. Two IVs hung above the biobed, one filled with an unknown mixture of fluids, the other with Romulan blood of the same type as the patient's. A breathing tube was placed over the Centurion's mouth. Automatic Dermal-regenerators, Osteo-regenerators, and Vascular regenerators sat at various points around his body. The Centurion's lips moved.
"Is this... the Commander?" The man asked, his voice only audible because it was amplified.
"Yes. This is the ship's commanding officer." T'nai stated.
"Commander Vardok S'ryn. You wanted to speak with me?" Commander S'ren was very interested in all this.
"Leave. Leave us doctor." The Centurion commanded.
"Very well, as it's the only way you'll calm down. Don't get more worked up than you already are and injure yourself further, as it is, you're in one piece thanks to autosutures, cellular microstructures, and several hours on the operating table." The doctor left them to talk, closed the curtain, and, once out of sight, made certain that the listening device was still working. It was.
"Now then, Centurion, or is it General? You had something you wanted to talk about?" Vardok questioned. The patient, whatever rank he was, was very old, and, despite the best medical care a Starfleet sickbay could provide, and a multitude of bandages, burns and deep cuts still covered his body, though they were greatly reduced compared to when he was first beamed aboard the Alth'Indor. The old Romulan was clearly very weak, and in a lot of pain.
"Au'e*. Au'e." Replied the Imperial officer, "I am not a Centurion. I... I am General Aloyn S'Teveirr." He stopped, short of breath. "Watch... Watch your doctor. He... he is too smart... too crafty. Never turn your back on a man... a man like that." The General paused, again short of breath.
"Why conceal your identity, General?" Vardok asked.
"I... I did not wish to die... to die... in disgrace. That... that is not a fitting death for an old soldier. If I died... died with my fleet. I would be... be a hero. Honored for my... my sacrifice. If I return..." he coughed, uncontrollably, for almost a minute, "If I return to Rator III, without my fleet. Leaving them..." he coughed again, "leaving them as vaporized debris... and save my own life..." and he coughed again, a wet cough now. Loud, racking, and long.
The doctor heard it and came in again.
"Easy now. This will help." He applied a hypospray to Aloyn's neck, and pressed down, releasing medication into his patient.
In a minute, Aloyn's breathing had returned to normal and the cough was gone. The General continued.
"If I died fighting for our people... I would be a hero. I did not ask to leave. I... I would have stayed... I would have died with my men. But the nurse and Nora'dex pulled me out of there... pulled me out. They... they thought they were saving me. Saving me... to die as an old man, the laughingstock of the navy. To die gumming my food, listening to my name mocked... mocked in the drinking songs of the taverns... I... I could not live in death. So... so Aloyn S'Teveirr died in his last battle... I had my guards... my guards dress me in the uniform of a Centurion... a Centurion who died shortly after... after we got in the escape pod." The old Romulan trailed off. He was very tired, he was still very close to death. But Vardok needed to know more, there were still many unanswered questions.
"Why did you attack lloann'mhrahel** across the Neutral Zone?" Commander S'ren asked.
"I... I did not." Aloyn replied.
"But the battle took place there." Vardok stated.
"Not by my order... not by my order. I... I would never be so foolish as to give up... give up our own territory. To... to make an attack... an attack that would lead to war. My orders were to defend, not to attack." Aloyn paused, his strength failing. "Commander Nora'dex gave the order to attack. It... it was the night shift. I was asleep. Nora'dex had... had the command. He... he wanted glory. He... he was jealous. What... what a prideful fool. He wanted... wanted my rank. Wanted me to die... Or fail. If he lead the fleet to... to victory. Or, if we were defeated... if we were defeated, and I lead... lead a foolhardy attack and survived to limp home... he... he would get my rank. Would say... say I was lying. At 'best' the Empress would personally rip my badge.... badge of rank from my body. At worst... At worst I would die at the hands of the Tal Shiar as... as punishment... for... for failing my people." The old soldier stopped now, very tired from the effort.
"Why are you telling me this General? What do you want me to do?" Vardok asked.
"Two things," Aloyn managed to say, "one... never tell anyone... who I am. Swear to me.... swear Vardok... that you... that you and your doctor... will never tell... never tell anyone that I am anything but a Centurion." General S'Teveirr pleaded with Commander Vardok with his eyes. S'ren gulped at this. This was one favor he could not grant, and he could not bring himself to lie to this man. The general looked desperate now.
"That. Is. An. Order. Commander. S'ryn." Aloyn said, his voice growing fainter. Vardok nodded. He would never tell anyone in the Empire who this man was. The wishes of this hardened old officer would be kept; his name would never be mocked on Rator III.
"And second?" Vardok said in a very serious, very respectful voice.
"Second..." The old man said, "bring me a dagger. A dagger. Let me die, so that... so that Aloyn S'Teveirr might truly die... die the hero that he was. I am no coward... I will not... will not live... live past my own death. There is nothing... nothing for me now." Vardok was horrified. He could not help this man kill himself. This man was not like the Romulans of the Tal Shiar. He was a true patriot. Deceived, yes, prideful, yes, bigoted, yes, but not a monster. Vardok did not, could not, hate him. He could not be a party to murder. He backed away slowly from the biobed.
"No. No." He said, softly, but firmly. The old man's hand shot out with surprising speed. He grabbed onto Vardok's sleeve with all of his very limited strength. Driven by sheer will and adrenaline, the old officer was amazingly strong for a man who had been on his deathbed three hours before.
"You must!" His yell was faint, barely above a whisper for a healthy man. But the emotion, the pain, and the determination were all clearly there. "Let me die! I beg it of you! And I... I have never... never... never begged anyone for anything in all my one-hundred-ninety-three years of life! Please! I command you! I order you! I implore you! Please bring me a dagger. I shall die by my own hand. You would... would only be following my orders. There is... nothing... nothing left for me in life now! I could not live... live with myself... were I to live a cowherd! I must die! Die for my people! Let me die! LET ME DIE!" The old man was frantic now. Vardok pulled away from his grip, and stepped slowly backward.
"Doctor!" The Commander called. Vardok's heart raced, sweat trickled down his brow. In his ninety plus years commanding a ship, he had been in some very painful times, but few situations had been as heart wrenching as this.
The General spoke no more. His arm slumped against the bed, his heartbeat had risen too high. He was too exhausted to say anymore.
Doctor T'nai came back in.
"Sir," the chief medical officer said, "I must insist that you let the patient rest, much more strain will kill him."
"Doctor," Vardok said, "The Centurion is suicidal. I suggest you sedate and restrain him." T'nai nodded, took out a hypospray and gave it to Aloyn. Then he disappeared for a minute, and returned with a set of restraints, which he placed on the arms and legs of the "Centurion."
[OOC
* au'e = oh, yes
** lloann'mhrahel = them from there = Federation
End OOC]
- Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)
- Join date : 2013-06-15
Faction : MSI
Posts : 482
Location : MSI space.
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Sat Aug 31, 2013 6:15 am
[OoC: Uh, Dino? Did you forget about my subplot? /OoC]
- Dino27Captain (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-05-20
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 1435
Location : P.C.G. York ready room
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Sat Aug 31, 2013 1:26 pm
[OOC.... um..... what subplot? ha ha ha.... oops.... right.... sorry. I was going to include that... and then three hours into that post.... I completely forgot... sorry It would be helpful if you would give me a cue when you're ready for me to continue it as I don't know what you have planned for your subplot. I need you to lead as I'm basically just posting the imperial responses to your actions. Just tell me when you're ready for me to do something and drop some hints about what direction you want me to take it.]
Rator III
The Romulan Shock Troops recruiter picks up his pad, enters the contact information he received earlier, and initiates a video call to his potential recruits.
"You wanted me to tell your friends more about the mighty Imperial Shock Troops of the invincible Romulan Star Empire? What did you want to know? Do you wish to hear of the glorious victories we have won for the Star Empire? Or perhaps why the Romulan marines are the finest in the galaxy? Or perhaps about the weapons and equipment we use in battle?"
Rator III
The Romulan Shock Troops recruiter picks up his pad, enters the contact information he received earlier, and initiates a video call to his potential recruits.
"You wanted me to tell your friends more about the mighty Imperial Shock Troops of the invincible Romulan Star Empire? What did you want to know? Do you wish to hear of the glorious victories we have won for the Star Empire? Or perhaps why the Romulan marines are the finest in the galaxy? Or perhaps about the weapons and equipment we use in battle?"
- Lord Commandant JaceLord Commandant (MSI)
- Join date : 2013-06-15
Faction : MSI
Posts : 482
Location : MSI space.
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Sat Sep 07, 2013 2:22 pm
"A simple rundown of training, equipment, and such things we would see as young Shock Troops would suffice, sir. I am sure that my comrades, after hearing your tales, will do plenty of research on their own.
"I now leave the line to you, sir. Feel free to start."
Iramaku signals to the others to start the relays, recorders, and transmitters.
"I now leave the line to you, sir. Feel free to start."
Iramaku signals to the others to start the relays, recorders, and transmitters.
- Dino27Captain (PCG)
- Join date : 2013-05-20
Faction : Phoenix Command Group
Posts : 1435
Location : P.C.G. York ready room
Re: THE SONS OF LIBERTY
Sat Sep 07, 2013 11:23 pm
[OOC I'm making up some/most/all of the equipment designations, but the names aren't important as what the gear does is clearly told. End OOC
Rator III
The recruiter doesn't hesitate for a moment, but launches into an invigorating, or perhaps closer to terrifying, speech that could only have been prepared ahead of time.
Before you are a Shock Trooper, you are a recruit. You must climb the mountain before you are on top of the world. And climb it you will.
For fifteen weeks, you will push yourself to do what you thought impossible. Only the strongest leave boot camp as Imperial Shock Troops. You will be tested. You will spend your days doing pushups, crunches, pullups, vigorous aerobic activity,situps, jumping jacks, weight training, running obstacle courses, marching for many kilometers with full battle gear. You will come in strong, as all Romulans are. But you will leave, far stronger still, Romulan marines. At the end you will be able to do 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. The strongest can do much more than that, but you must do that much to be fit to wear the title of Shock Trooper.
You won't just be getting in the best shape of your lives in boot camp, you will be training your mind and your hands too. You will learn basic battle tactics, martial arts, vehicle operation, and the use of your small arms and explosives. When you leave you will be able to proficiently fire, clean, take down, and provide basic maintenance to your IR-7790C Disruptor Carbine." The Romulan held up a sleek long-arm at this." Said weapon is small and light enough for use in tight quarters, but powerful and accurate enough to use at range as well. And don't let its slim design fool you, it is quite durable, and makes for an excellent club if the need should arise. It contains a regenerative power cell, allowing for thousands of shots in between reloads. It has an optional scope in addition to its primary sights. The 7790C is capable of semi-automatic fire, three round bursts, and overcharged single shots. This beauty can be fitted with a plasma bayonet, a photon grenade launcher, or even an enhanced cooling and power system for short bursts of fully automatic fire. This last option is usually reserved for officers and dedicated squad level fire support teams.
Heavy weapons specialists will go on to be trained later in the use of photon mines and grenades, and plasma rocket launchers, capable of taking down Federation landing craft, or even enemy armor with multiple hits.
All marines will be able to use their bare hands as a weapon, thanks to ancient martial arts training. Once you're fully trained, you'll be capable of taking multiple enemies armed with hand to hand weapons at once. You will learn hand to hand combat with, as well as how to defend against, the knife as well.
All Shock Troopers know basic first aid after leaving boot camp, the best of you will go on to receive extended medical training. We take care of our warriors, especially our finest.
During those fifteen weeks of training, you will also study the many foolish races that dare to stand against the glorious Romulan Star Empire. From the Federation, to the Klingons. To the Gorn, to the Jem'Hadar. From the Phoenix Command Group, to the Yaka Empire. From the Cardassians, all the way to the Borg.
After boot camp, you will go on to several months of extended training. You will expand from what you learned in boot camp to piloting tanks, such as the DB-87 Main Romulan Battle Hover Tank, with it's powerful rail gun, rocket launchers, disruptor machine guns, and highly advanced Ablative armor, to flying landing craft, such as the nimble Scorpion Attack Craft. You will learn advanced medical knowledge, mastery of martial arts, extreme proficiency in weapons, from the SR-9803E Plasma Pistol, a semi automatic pistol with a regenerative power cell that allows for hundreds of shots before reloading is required, to the mighty KR-95 AA rocket launcher, that fires deadly quantum rockets capable of easily destroying a combat oriented Runabout*, or even causing heavy damage to a light frigate, with multiple hits.
In basic training, you will become a mighty warrior. When you leave, you will be ready to invade enemy capital ships, to attack Federation starbases, to New Romulus itself.
You will defend the Empire with WarFalcon Stealth Landing Craft, a heavy non warp capable troop carrying shuttle equipped with plasma cannons, photon torpedoes, anti-tank rockets, and a basic cloaking device. Or the DXV Assault Craft, a small, unarmed boarding craft equipped with a cloaking device and a powerful drill to allow access to enemy ships.
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!"
[OOC A runabout is a very large, usually warp capable and sometimes combat ready shuttle classification, used by Starfleet and the PCG.
Expect my next Vardok subplot post soon... I hope... I just love chemistry. OOC]
[OOC ACTING GM NOTICE! Scare has left me in charge while he is done moving. As acting GM, and a mod, I hereby revoke the No Double Posting rule for this topic until further notice is given by a staff member. So feel free to continue your subplots even if no one else is posting, just don't get ahead of GM actions or you'll make me feel unneeded.
Expect the next GM post detailing RPG continuation very soon. Know that the daylight is fading on Rator III, and the first day is about to end, so get away from whatever highly classified location you've infiltrated and hide for the night, even spies need to sleep. End OOC]
Rator III
The recruiter doesn't hesitate for a moment, but launches into an invigorating, or perhaps closer to terrifying, speech that could only have been prepared ahead of time.
Before you are a Shock Trooper, you are a recruit. You must climb the mountain before you are on top of the world. And climb it you will.
For fifteen weeks, you will push yourself to do what you thought impossible. Only the strongest leave boot camp as Imperial Shock Troops. You will be tested. You will spend your days doing pushups, crunches, pullups, vigorous aerobic activity,situps, jumping jacks, weight training, running obstacle courses, marching for many kilometers with full battle gear. You will come in strong, as all Romulans are. But you will leave, far stronger still, Romulan marines. At the end you will be able to do 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. The strongest can do much more than that, but you must do that much to be fit to wear the title of Shock Trooper.
You won't just be getting in the best shape of your lives in boot camp, you will be training your mind and your hands too. You will learn basic battle tactics, martial arts, vehicle operation, and the use of your small arms and explosives. When you leave you will be able to proficiently fire, clean, take down, and provide basic maintenance to your IR-7790C Disruptor Carbine." The Romulan held up a sleek long-arm at this." Said weapon is small and light enough for use in tight quarters, but powerful and accurate enough to use at range as well. And don't let its slim design fool you, it is quite durable, and makes for an excellent club if the need should arise. It contains a regenerative power cell, allowing for thousands of shots in between reloads. It has an optional scope in addition to its primary sights. The 7790C is capable of semi-automatic fire, three round bursts, and overcharged single shots. This beauty can be fitted with a plasma bayonet, a photon grenade launcher, or even an enhanced cooling and power system for short bursts of fully automatic fire. This last option is usually reserved for officers and dedicated squad level fire support teams.
Heavy weapons specialists will go on to be trained later in the use of photon mines and grenades, and plasma rocket launchers, capable of taking down Federation landing craft, or even enemy armor with multiple hits.
All marines will be able to use their bare hands as a weapon, thanks to ancient martial arts training. Once you're fully trained, you'll be capable of taking multiple enemies armed with hand to hand weapons at once. You will learn hand to hand combat with, as well as how to defend against, the knife as well.
All Shock Troopers know basic first aid after leaving boot camp, the best of you will go on to receive extended medical training. We take care of our warriors, especially our finest.
During those fifteen weeks of training, you will also study the many foolish races that dare to stand against the glorious Romulan Star Empire. From the Federation, to the Klingons. To the Gorn, to the Jem'Hadar. From the Phoenix Command Group, to the Yaka Empire. From the Cardassians, all the way to the Borg.
After boot camp, you will go on to several months of extended training. You will expand from what you learned in boot camp to piloting tanks, such as the DB-87 Main Romulan Battle Hover Tank, with it's powerful rail gun, rocket launchers, disruptor machine guns, and highly advanced Ablative armor, to flying landing craft, such as the nimble Scorpion Attack Craft. You will learn advanced medical knowledge, mastery of martial arts, extreme proficiency in weapons, from the SR-9803E Plasma Pistol, a semi automatic pistol with a regenerative power cell that allows for hundreds of shots before reloading is required, to the mighty KR-95 AA rocket launcher, that fires deadly quantum rockets capable of easily destroying a combat oriented Runabout*, or even causing heavy damage to a light frigate, with multiple hits.
In basic training, you will become a mighty warrior. When you leave, you will be ready to invade enemy capital ships, to attack Federation starbases, to New Romulus itself.
You will defend the Empire with WarFalcon Stealth Landing Craft, a heavy non warp capable troop carrying shuttle equipped with plasma cannons, photon torpedoes, anti-tank rockets, and a basic cloaking device. Or the DXV Assault Craft, a small, unarmed boarding craft equipped with a cloaking device and a powerful drill to allow access to enemy ships.
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!"
[OOC A runabout is a very large, usually warp capable and sometimes combat ready shuttle classification, used by Starfleet and the PCG.
Expect my next Vardok subplot post soon... I hope... I just love chemistry.
OOC][OOC ACTING GM NOTICE! Scare has left me in charge while he is done moving. As acting GM, and a mod, I hereby revoke the No Double Posting rule for this topic until further notice is given by a staff member. So feel free to continue your subplots even if no one else is posting, just don't get ahead of GM actions or you'll make me feel unneeded.
Expect the next GM post detailing RPG continuation very soon. Know that the daylight is fading on Rator III, and the first day is about to end, so get away from whatever highly classified location you've infiltrated and hide for the night, even spies need to sleep.
End OOC]
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