Topic: The Definitive D.O.E RP Thread

[gornrule]

  Federation Starbase Andromeda
   Stardate 2271.109
   Federation Eastern Border Near Romulan Neutral Zone



     The monotony of life on the Eastern border was a welcome change from life at the Klingon front.  Hot meals, hotter showers, and the amenities a starbase offered were much better than living in a destroyer, even if you commanded it.  Rising from his bed, he donned the flight uniform and headed to the observation deck, a ritual he had taken to since his arrival 2 weeks ago.  He enjoyed the solitude, along with a hot cup of coffee.  It wouldn't be long before the other officer's would arrive, and being the newest, it was his responsiblity to keep the coffee fresh and hot.

     Arriving in the officer's ready room, he prepared himself for the debreifing.  His ship, UFP Chickamauga, was one of the newer destroyers in the fleet.  It had served him well against the Klingons.  It had been posted to the Andromeda's sector for repairs and small refits, while the crew enjoyed R&R.  He wasn't a barbarian, but he missed the razor's edge of adrenaline when flying combat.  It's what warriors train for.  He missed the fighting and was eager to get back, but his crew had earned this well deserved break.  

      A few of the senior officers had arrived.  Everyone went by their callsign.  It was a distinction reserved for captains who had seen combat.  Some of the names were quite funny.  His own was Warlock.  He had gotten it from his commanding officer at the time, for a combination of his uncanny good luck and his unorthodox tactics.  A male witch, they had joked.  Somehow it stuck.  There were other, more colorful names.  Die Hard, Hooch, Father Ted, Bach, Dark Elf, among others.  All had some signifigance to their owners, for reasons usually left unsaid.  Grabbing 3 steaming cups of coffee, he headed to the officer's table.

     The claxon wailed as the starbase was alerted to 'red' status.  Quickly putting the coffee down, he made his way to the officers debreifing room, amid a massive crush of bodies running to their stations.  Once all the officers had arrived, Admiral Vaughn appeared on the view screen in front of the assembled officers.  The news must be grim indeed.

     "Gentlemen, as of 0300 hrs, zulu time, all leave shall be cancelled and all ships are to begin perimeter patrols.  Starbase Fort Apache and Starbase Galaga have been destroyed by a Romulan Strike Force, estimated strength 4 battle groups.  This unwarranted attack has claimed the lives of 10,000 Federation soldiers and civilians.  We are all that stands between Terra Prime and the Romulans.  Gentlemen, we are at war.  Combat patrols to begin immediately.  Group leaders to the station commanders quarters.  All others to your vessels.  Good luck, and God help us all."

     As the screen blinked out, the silence in the room was deafening.  Two starbases.  Destroyed?  That was almost impossible.  As the crowd began to make its way to the shipyards, he knew he was not alone in his thoughts.  War.  With the Romulans.  He had never met a Romulan. Four battle groups?  That was well over 200 ships.  The Federation maybe had one, somewhat incomplete battle group here.  Maybe.  

     Once on the bridge of the Chickamauga, he felt more relaxed.  Until his assignment came.  The Quellin Nebula,  Patrol and report any activity.  Engage hostiles.

     Waiting for his ship to leave spacedock, he offered a small prayer.  For was had happened, and what was about to.


RP OFF:
   First one got lost.  Yes, if the numbers are lopsided, I'll play Fed.  Get your 'Fwarlock' jokes ready.  Any and all are welcome to join, but let's keep it coherent.

  Fwarlock
 Commander UFP Chickamauga  

[gornrule]

   Gorn Southern Sector, Quellin Nebula
   Stardate 2271.114
   MCC Bloodletter Gwarlock Commander


      High Command:
            Have reccceived ssseveral unusssual sssenssor readingsss along rim of nebula near lissstening possst 23.  No visssual confirmation, but will invessstigate.  Requessst ssstatuss of Federattion re: Romulan Empire.  Other than ssstated, nothing more to report.  Bloodletter out.


Gwarlock

[gornrule]

 EYES ONLY
 FETFC  (Federation Eastern Theatre Fleet Command)
 UFP Chickanauga
 Stardate 2271.114  Patrolling Quellin Nebula

    Have encountered several sensor anomolies within the nebula.  Unable to maintain contact.  Possible Romulan activity.  Request fleet support.  Continuing sensor sweeps.  Chickamauga out.



Fwarlock
 

[SPQR Renegade001]

Sitting in his command chair aboard the RIS Vindicator, a figure shrouded in shadow chuckled to himself. The irony was delicious.

For years the Gorn had been the 2nd class lapdogs of the Federation, spearheading assaults, covering flanks, reinforcing battlefronts, patrolling worthless void space, only to be cast to the tender mercies of whatever enemies the Federation choose not to engage on that day. Now the almighty Federation would rely on the Gorn not only to staff their own warships, but also to command them. If the Gorn were to grow weary of dying for the Federation?

After monitoring the flash traffic from the Chickeniguana, the Vindicator slowly made her way back into the depths of the Quellin Nebula to rendezvous with the Audacious and the Tenacious. With enough patience, the Romulan was sure he could tease Warlock into investigating the fluorescing cloud, and then the Superhawk and her Kestral wings would have the Chickeniguana.

There would be no honor in the fight. The 3 cruisers would butcher the Chickeniguana, and that was a shame the Romulan would bear long after the battle was done and forgotten. At his worst, Warlock had been an admirable foe. At his best, he had been something akin to a friend. He deserved a better death. Sadly, the mission had no room to spare for honorable combat. It called for both absolute secrecy and total success at every step. If the armada were to advance to the next rally point, the Chickeniguana had to die a silent, ignominious death.

The Romulan could only hope that this new SOS fleet's mission was going as well as his own. The Alliance had to think... had to know that the Empire's armada was assembling elsewhere, or all this stealth and secrecy was for naught. The fleet lead by the Vindicator would find itself encircled and destroyed; and the Center for Truth could stop denying its existence. The Senate had laid a great task at the feet of this unproven fleet, but such is the wisdom of politicians and bureaucrats. If the plan worked, the Senate War Committee would be regaled as Heroes of the Empire. If it failed, then this new fleet would be posthumously branded as inept, and the Senate seats would remain well protected while the Empire crumbled.

...And the Romulan having these thoughts would be dead.

?Such thoughts are dangerous when deep in the void, with only your fears to comfort you,? the Romulan told himself. ?Focus on the task at hand. Others will do their job well, or they will fail. No good can come from contemplating that which only time will reveal,? and his thoughts drifted back to baiting the Chickeniguana to her end.
 

[gornrule]

Stardate 2271.115.75
Quellin Nebula Routine Patrol
UFP Chickamauga

     The nebula always wreaked havoc on the ship's systems.  Interaction with the nebula's charged atmosphere severely degraded shield integrity, and sensors became unreliable quickly. It was nervewracking work, and he was glad his bridge crew was up to it.  The latest Federation dispatch had ordered him to watch the Neutral Zone, and report and intercept any convoys that he could.

    "Sir! Sensors detect vessel 1000000 km off port bow.  Shields are raised.  Unable to identify."

   "Red Alert!  Battle Stations!"

    The crew hummed to life with mechanical precision.  The game was afoot.

     "Identify that vessel IMMEDIATELY!"


 Fwarlock

[gornrule]

Stardate 2271.115.73
Quellin Nebula Routine Patrol
GSF Bloodletter

   The Gorn had adapted their ships to almost perfection in the nebula.  A small trick to tweak the sensors, and they functioned almost normally.  The atmosphere still affected the shields, but the best scientists in the galaxy hadn't managed to dechiper that riddle yet.  The atmosphere of the nebula, however, did not affect the deadly plasma that the heavy cruiser carried.  It only made it that much deadlier.

  "Sssir!  Federation vesssel, dessstroyer classs, mark 256, range 1100000 km. Sssspeed isss at impulsssse."

     Gwarlock was surprised that the Federation was so close to Romulan space.  Maybe the rumours were true.  Could the Romulans have attacked the Federation?  Either way, this small ship would be no match for the Romulan flotilla of cruisers he had been following for the last 2 days.  The Federation was an ally, and they deserved warning of the dangers.  He only hoped he would be quick enough.

  "Raisssse sshieldss!  Besst ssspeed to Federation vessssel. Clossse to communication dissstancce."

  "Red Alert?" his tactical officer queried.

  "Negative.  But maintain full sssenssor ssweepsss.  Give me the lasst known posssition of the Romulansss.  Be wary of Romulan treachery."

     The game was afoot.


Gwarlock

[gornrule]

Stardate 2271.115.76
Routine Patrol Quellin Nebula
UFP Chickamauga

   "Report!"

   "Gorn Confederation vessel.  Known engine signature.  GSF Bloodletter.  Captain Gwarlock.  Shields raised but no weapons armed.  Closing at maximum impulse. Range - 750000 km."

   He relaxed slightly.  It wasn't unusual for the Gorn to patrol this space, particularly the nebula, so close to the neutral zone.  He would be happy to exchange information with this captain.  Any friendly face would be nice to see, even if it was a Gorn.

   "Maintain weapons status.  Hail them on the alpha channel when in range."

   "Sir, we're getting some more sensor anomolies, off of the starboard bow."


Fwarlock

[gornrule]

Stardate 2271.116
Routine Patrol Quellin Nebula
GSF Bloodletter

   "Sssssir!  Picking up sssenssor anomaly off the Federattion'ss sstarboard bow.  Confirmed Romulan warbird preparing to decloak.  Range - 30000 km and closssing!"

   "Battlesssattionsss! Arm forward torpedo tubesss.  Closse and engage new target.  Fire at optimum range!"


Gwarlock

[gornrule]

Stardate 2271.116
Routine Patrol Quellin Nebula
UFP Chickamauga

  "Sir?!  The Gorn ship is arming torpedoes and has moved to battle warp.  I think she means to engage us."

  A cold chill travelled instantly down his back as he watched the ponderous Gorn vessel appear magically onto his viewscreen.  It was huge.  If it meant to engage him, well, he would make the monster sting a bit before he died.  His ship wasn't as helpless in the nebula as his attacker obviously thought.

   "Weapons status?"

   "Forward torpedo bays loaded and ready.  Phasers charged."

   "SIR!  She's FIRED AT US!"

  He looked as the brilliant plumes of 3 glowing balls of plasma spewed forth from the behemoth on his screen.  Directly towards his ship.

   "Flash comm to SFCET.  Tell them our position and situation.  Return fire."

Fwarlock

[gornrule]

Stardate 2271.117
Routine Patrol Quellin Nebula
GSF Bloodletter

  "Ssssir, warbird directly behind Federation vessssel.  They haven't sssseen her."

  "Increasse ssspeed to battle warp.  Fire torpedoesss at range."

    Would there be enough time?

  The Gorn vessel closed the distance to the tiny ship rapidly.  This Federation captain obviously knew very little of nebula battle tactics.  If he was lucky, he might be able to teach him.

   "Ssssir, in range of Romulan vesssel."

   "FIRE!"

    He was always awed by the sight of plasma in flight.  3 huge spheres of plasma were headed directly towards the Romulan.  He hoped he could catch them as they decloaked, when they were the most vulnerable.  It wouldn't kill it, but may buy time for their escape.

   His ship rocked with phaser fire.  The bridge exploded in a shower of sparks.

   Making his way back to his feet, he screamed,

  "DAMAGE REPORT!"

  "Sssir, plasssma ssstill tracking.  Forward ssshield down. Hull at 82%.  The Federation vessssel sseemss to have fired on usss."

   "WHAT?!?!"


Gwarlock
   

[gornrule]

Stardate 2271.117
Routine Patrol Quellin Nebula
UFP Chickamauga

  He watched as the plasma sailed towards his ship.  He would die fighting.

 "Fire! All forward torpedo and phaser banks."

  The Gorn ship slid as if punched.  He could see explosions rocking its hull and interior.  Their front shield was nonexistent, and they were hurting badly.  Then incredulously, he saw the plasma slide off the starboard quarter and go sailing harmlessly past his ship.  He missed.  Time to angle for another attack.

  "Sir! Romulan warbird decloaking 100000 km of starboard.  Cruiser class.  All Gorn weapons have impacted.  She's venting plasma, sir.

  My God.  The Gorn hadn't fired at him at all.  What had he done?


 Fwarlock

[Goose]

Since the Mirak are not in this server, I'll just sit on the sideline.

Oooo, good storyline, lot of tension.

(munch, munch, munch)

[Maxillius]

I have seen much in my Strfleet career, but this was a first.  I had never seen plasma torpedoes in action before, much less watch them pass harmlessly by to impact an unseen vessel.  I fear we have made a grievous error.  The Gorn ship was here to help, but due to her angle of approach and the fact we didn't know about the Romulan, the Captain acted accordingly.  Battle isn't the proper time for apologies, but something must be done to keep the Gorn from attacking us and keep us BOTH alive!!

Maxili - "Captain, shall I have comms send deepest apologies for this error?"

Fwarlock - "No, but target the Romulan, number One,  and make sure she doesn't get any hits on the Gorn's forward shield.  I'm afraid we're going to have to apologize the hard way."

Maxili - "Very well, sir.  Helm, hard about, keep us between the Rommie and the Gorn, we need to distract her from our mistake.  Tactical, overload the photons and keep making pot shots with the phasers.  We can't afford to be anything more than a distraction."

 

[SPQR Renegade001]

Stardate 2271.116

The situation could not have been better. The Chickeniguana had passed directly by the Vindicator, at one point closing to 50k of the cruiser on her way deeper into the nebula, and had apparently seen no trace of her. The Romulan was worried, "Its too easy."

"Helm, 1/3 ahead. Bring us in behind his starboard beam. Tactical, charge torpedoes. Target his warp nacelles. I want his legs cut before we worry about finishing him off. Comm, burst message to the Audacious and the Tenacious: Flank our position and cut him off. Do not reveal yourselves unless ordered."

Then came the worst part of the game. Sneaking up on a ship with a better sensor array than your own. If he had seen something of interest, then he would have sensors in a tight beam forward; leaving his rear blind. If not, they would be blindly scanning the nebula for anything unusual; and here everything was unusual. How good was his science officer?

"Sir! He's raising shields, charging weapons, and accelerating. No change in heading."

"Damn!" The Romulan cursed his luck. He'd been spotted, and the prey was going to run for it before he could close the net. "Helm, increase speed to flank. Tactical, de-cloak and prepare to counter any ECCM he offers, at range 3,000 fire all torpedoes. Fast load the next salvo. Helm, get us on his butt and stay there.

The crew executed their orders, but when the active scanners came online the Romulan found new reason to curse his luck.

"Commander! I have a new contact! Bearing 030. Range 25,000. Closing at high speed. Medium cruiser... Gorn MCC... She's the Bloodletter.

"Stay on the Chickeniguana, we'll deal with the Gorn soon enough."

"The Bloodletter has fired on us Sir! Full torpedo spread."

"Comm, new orders to the Audacious: Close at best speed and engage at will."

The Vindicator may be a state of the art Command Cruiser, but the odds had rapidly changed from a stacked deck to the wrong side of a fair fight. The Chickeniguana may have been a mere destroyer, lacking in both shields and power, but a Federation Destroyer packs the full armament of a line cruiser. With the Gorn Cruiser helping her, she may well have the power available to make full use of that armament. It would take several minutes for the Audacious to join the battle and the Romulan hoped that there would still be a battle to join.

"Range to target, and target speed!"

"Range 6,000, bearing dead away at 21 and climbing."

"Time to impact"

" 10 seconds," The Gorn weapons would hit the Vindicator before she could fire on the Chickeniguana, but they had traveled a fair distance through the gas cloud, and would have lost strength to it. "Point defense, fire all phasers inside range 1,000. All Hands, brace for impact!"

"Sir the Chickeniguana has fired on the Bloodletter, Full spread!"

In that moment the plasma spheres ripped through the Vindicators shields and slammed into the hull. Weakend by phaser fire and the nebula, the ship still gave a telling shudder. She was hurt. "Damage report!"

"Forward shields have failed. Heavy hull damage. Starboard wing phasers offline. Primary power and the singularity are stable, but multiple plasma conduits have ruptured in the damaged hull sections. Power distribution is down to 70%."

"Very well. Tactical, fire all torpedoes, fast load the next salvo and take the starboard stasis torp offline, I need that power."
The Romulan watched as his own plasma streamed into the Federation ship. Exactly as planned, the warp nacelles were visibly twisted out of alignment. She still had power and weapons, but any kind of speed would be out of the question until she'd seen major repairs. A few days if her engineer was good.

"Helm, plot a wide arc to bring port weapons to bear on the Bloodletter. Steer clear of the Chickeniguana. She still has teeth."

Now the real fun would begin. Plasma Ballet in a nebula.

The Vindicator was the larger of the two warriors, but she was hurt. Time was on the Romulans side. He only needed to stall the Bloodletter untill the Audacious could arive. Wether the Gorn opted for a Plasma Ballet, or to take up station with the injured Chickeniguana, it would stall for the needed time. The questions racing through the Romulans mind, "What will the Gorn do when he sees the Audacious? Will he press the fight against another ship? If not, will he run for Gorn space, into the waiting arms of the Tenacious, or head into Federation space?
 

[Maxillius]

My head hits the deck as the Vindicator's plasma hits its mark.  While I'm down I hear Fwarock shouting orders to medics and enginneers...

".... we need more power..."

"....Max you alright? MAX?  MEDIC!  Number One's injured!..."

I woke up next in sickbay... still in battle apparently as there's nothing but emergency lighting and a lurching deck.  Luckily I'm already on the floor or else I'd've broke something else.  These Romulans will pay!

[Iaidoka]

Location Captains Quarters aboard the GCS Gouda Delivery DOT 1147889 docked at the Romulan starbase Obnoxious on the easternmost border of the Romulan empire.

Retired Admiral Iaidoka stares into the mirror adjusting his finery.  The aging Gorn was not used to social functions, but his business contact on the station had invited him to a formal dinner party.  Saying no would have angered a valuable client.  

Some might have thought it strange to find a small fleet of Gorn freighters preparing to depart from a Romulan starbase.  Particularly given the political situation.  Why would any business man risk it?  Well the retired admiral had some experience suprising people with the capabilities of Gorn freighters.  Besides there was a lot of money being offered to deliver this particular load.

Admiral Iaidoka left his quarters finally convinced that his scales had the appropriate shine.  He walked down the short hall to the ops station near the cargo hold where the freighters captain was overseeing the last transports of Fine cheeses and various contraband to the Romulan station's cargo holds.  "How long till the cargo isss completely transssfered, captain?"

"It ssshould only take about another hour ssir." replied Eishin, captain of the GCS Gouda Delivery DOT 1147889.

"Be prepared to transssport the casssksss of bloodwine, captain."  Captain EIshin raised an eyebrow at that but stayed quiet.  He knew when not to speak. "Jusst in cassse we need to ssseal the deal."

"Yesss Sssir."

Iaidoka proceeded down the hall to the transporter room and beamed himself to the transporter room of starbase Obnoxious.  He sincerely did not wish to part with the bloodwine, but he was afraid he might need to.  Romulan business dealings sometimes needed a little something at the end to ensure success.

[Iaidoka]

Location:  Transporter Room of Romulan Starbase Obnoxious on the far eastern border of the Empire.

Retired Admiral Iaidoka stepped off the transporter pad and carefully shook the hand of his Romulan business partner.  Imperial Commander P'nti Ars was a typical Romulan.  They all pretty much looked the same to the CEO of Gouda Delivery.  Come to think of it the Romulans look an awful lot like Humans.  An amusing thought that Iaidoka wisely kept to himself.  

Commander Ars led Iaidoka down seemingly endless hallways, down this turbo lift and up that turbo lift.  Iaidoka appreciated the dizzying layout of the interior of a Romulan starbase.  It was designed to be confusing to enemy boarding parties.  Iaidoka caught something in Commander Ars small talk and decided perhaps he should listen closer, but it was too late.

"Ah here we are Admiral" said Commander Ars pulling up short in front of a door at the end of a cooridor.

"Oh it'sss not Admiral any longer Commander.  My war daysss are long over.  Trade hasss alwaysss been my calling, besssidesss the warsss are over now." said the retired admiral warmly.  Or at least as warmly as a cold blooded lizard could manage.

"You are too modest Admiral.  Your tactics are taught at the Romulan academy."  said the Commander.

"What academy?" joked Iaidoka and they both laughed.  The Commander led the way through the door.  

It was of course a trap.

 

[Iaidoka]

Location: Brig security station aboard the Romulan Starbase Obnoxious.

"You should have killed me you know." said the retired admiral quietly.

"Orders are orders.  The Tal'Shi... I mean they want you alive." said Commander Ars.  The room that Iaidoka had been led to was of course the brig.  Along the walls on either side of a long hallways were small rooms with forcefields in front of them.  Various criminals locked in a few of them.  Commander Ars waved his disruptor pistol at one of the rooms suggestively.  Iaidoka shrugged and walked compliantly into the room.  He heard the red alert sound in the hallway shortly after the force shield on the cell was activated.  Commander Ars issued a few orders to the 10 or so  guards that stood at their posts.  Tw of them left the room with the Commander.  The other eight stayed behind.  

The Romulans could be so predictable at times.  By now the station's shields would have gone up and it's 4 wings of fighters would have been launched.  It is likely that a couple of war birds  and a heavy cruiser or two were decloaking outside the station and issuing stand down and prepare to be borded orders to the Gouda Delivery convoy ships.  And right about....  An explosion rocked the station.  Suddenly 4 large burly looking Gorn marines materialized at 2 corners of the room and setup a crossfire killzone.  Before long the 8 romulan guards were smouldering on the floor.   A moment later and Iaidoka's wife and leader of his marine detachment stood with a playful look in her eyes in front of the retired admirals door.  

"Should I let you out or not."  she said with a gleam in her eyes.  " I have half a mind to come in there and beat you silly.  You promised this would be a straight milk run."

"Well it should have been.  How was I to suspect treachery from a Romulan?" said Iaidoka with only the smallest bit of irony in his voice.  A second explosiion rocked the station and the power flickered.

"There went the lights" said the retired Admiral.  "We should head for the auxillary battle bridge."

"I know bloody well what needs to be done 'Admiral'," she said mockingly.  "This is my realm.  You're lucky I don't have you transported back to the ship."

"Yes dear" said the Iaidoka.  His wife could be pretty insistent sometimes.  In her mind, boarding actions were definitely women's work.  Besides the she had already shared her plan to take the station, and he knew it was well laid out.  

The initial blast was caused by a small explosive device beamed onto the station from the one gorn freighter that was still docked.  It took out the primary shield generator and one of the auxillary power reactors.  The second blast had destroyed the cloaking device.  More small targeted explosions would be hitting other important parts of the station, sensor arrays, marine barracks, mess halls, the torpedo tubes and ph4 batteries.  The freighter that the romulans so foolishly allowed to physically dock at the station possessed 12 transporters in all.  So did one of the other freighters in orbit around the station.  This was going to go well.  Iaidoka had not really expected the Romulans to allow him to dock at the station.  He had brought the tools needed to crack the stations shields, but they had proven to be unnecessary.

2 complete waves of explosions signaled the end of the bombardment.  Suddenly the hallways all over the station began to fill up with Gorn marines.  A platoon soon joined up with Iaidoka and his wife's small force and aided in the capture of the auxillary battle bridge.  The primary battle bridge was one of the first targets of the bombardment.  Once the auxillary battle bridge had been secured a team of techies was beamed over to hack into the stations main computer core and download as much as possible from the stations logs.

"Sir the primary sensor arrays are down, but I've got a datafeed from one of the freighters up on this screen.  You will be able to watch the battle from here." said one of the techies.

"Thank you Lieutenant."  Things were mostly going according to plan.  The retired admiral had expected more of a showing on the part of the Romulan navy.  A romulan warbird and a snipe had indeed decloaked and 4 wings of sadly antiquated fighters had indeed been launched.  Iaidoka felt slighted.  The q Ships were dancing with the warbirds and the 3 fighter wings Iaidoka had deployed in a nearby asteroid field before approaching the station were already closing on the battle.  They didn't really need his attention.  

"Honey, I'm starting to get reports from our teams."  Iaidoka hated being called that.  His wife was having far too much fun at his expense.  Of course, she usually did.  "The science lab on deck 12 fell with little resistance.  The shuttle bays have been seized but the team that took it stands virtually empty.  Basically the same report from the cargo holds on decks 3, 4 and 18.  Apparently this station really did need the supplies."

"Well lets get what we came for and get going."  If the supplies to the easternmost border of the Romulan Star Empire is being neglected as it seems to be.  There must be something immenent on the federation border or our border.  Iaidoka was not sure.  Either way it spelled trouble for his pension plan, not to mention his business prospects.

"Operations wrapping up around the station.  All teams reporting primary goals accomplished." reported his wife.

"Thank you 'sugarpie'."  replied Iaidoka.  His wife wasn't the only one would could use silly human pet names.  The retired gorn admiral wasn't even sure what a 'sugarpie' was but he knew it would irritate his wife.

A shortwhile later the Gouda Delivery fleet was heading for home.  One freighter had taken severe damage and had been scuttled.  Apparently the romulan Warbird had made a good showing for itself before being overcome by the q ships.  A couple of fighters had also been lost as well as a few wounded Gorn marines.  No fatalaties amoungst the marines though which was a miracle.  The romulan marines must have been raw recruits to have been so easily overcome.  Which had it's own implications.  If all the vets had been pulled elsewhere...

Much to consider on the trip back to the neutral zone.  Iaidoka began writing up a report while his techs combed through the information from the Romulan station logs.

[KOTH-Steel Claw]

::RP On::

Cut scent to the bridge of the Gutting Claw:

SC: I need those reports now or someone is dinner!

Rake: Sire, the latest intel shows the Freds, Pointy Ears, and Bruces are going to go to war over the latest alledged affronts. The Kizn are being avoided for fear of certain destruction.

SC: Not that report, you imbecile, the one about some slave girls. Geeez, if you weren't my nephew, you really would be dinner.

 

[Bob Graham]

The new Romulan frigate slid silently out of its dry dock and crused toward the nearby starbase.  It was to pick up its new commander there, and head directly for patrol duties along the Federaton neutral zone.

As the transporter silently activated, a figure apeared on the pad, shrouded in shadow.  The officer running the transporter control whispered "Welcome aboard Sub-Commander Fred."  The figure whispered back, "Thank you Centurian." and tiptoed toward the door.  Secrecy and steath were afterall paramount in the Romulan fleet, and had to be respected at all times.

The Sub-Commander's (silent) trubolift finnaly arrived at the bridge.  As the door silently swept open, it revealed a dimly lit bridge with soundproof foam on all the bulkheads.

"Tactacal, activate cloaking device, helm, set course for Federation neutral zone." Whispered the Sub-Commander as he slid silently into his command chair.

Yes, Commander," whispered the helm and tactical officers simultainusly, causing the statement to sound a bit louder than it really was.

"Shhhhhhh!" said the Sub-Commander.  "Someone may hear."