Topic: "what happened next pt1" (Read 1971 times)

Gook · « **on:** October 15, 2004, 02:40:14 pm »

Sockfoot stepped through the beaded curtain into the back room of the run down, dive of a bar known as "Forsaken Place." He knew many such places from his pirate days and felt at home in far flung reaches of the Galaxy. This particular one was on a little ball of dirt that had no "official" name but was known in the circles of the underbelly of Galactic society as "The Forgotten" far from the hustle and bustle of the Galactic Core. And far from the powers that be. Just the way he liked it.
He peered through the gloom of the musty, windowless back room and saw four figures in the back, reclining on pillows and wordlessly smoking cigars. He drew a deep breath; cuban.

He ambles over to the four figures and takes his place on the pillows, nods to each of the figures, accepts the offered cigar and antique butane lighter with the four leaf clover embosses on it, lights up and draws a deep drag. Ah, cubans! He closes the lighter and hands it back to the figure to his immediate left, a human in a red tunic and black pants.

"Better than last time, Hondo."

"More rain this year."

"Mmmm hmmmm."

"It isss good to sssee you again, my friend," says the figure directly across from Sockfoot. S'Cipio leans forward a little so Sockfoot can see his face in the dim light. Sockfoot nods.

"It's good to see you to, S'Cippy. How is the luck holding out?"

"Heheh. Thessse poor foolsss have no more money for me to win."

"And what about you, Ole? What's new these days?"

"Not much. Just been laying low."

Now the fourth figure leans into the light.

"What's this all about, J'inn? And why meet here in a place that Kahless forgot?"

J'inn takes a long drag from his cuban cigar and lets the smoke trail from his mouth.

"I just wanted a quiet smoke with my buddies is all."

Sockfoot takes a puff of his cigar and smirks.

"The last quiet smoke led to the Tholian Incident of 2276. It took those of us in the intelligence community a decade of slinking around to reconsolidate our power bases after that little fiasco. I hope this smoke is a little more on the quiet side."

"Oh, now that I think of it, there is something I would like to discuss with you all. Trouble is coming."

S'Cipio gives a snorty kind of laugh and says to Hondo;

"Alwaysss the melodramatic one. What'sss the matter J'inn? You sssussspicious of the dry cleaner thisss time?"

Ole winks at Sockfoot knowingly.

"No gentlemen. I think you might all want to hear this one."

Four figures in the gloom lean closer to J'inn as he begins to tell his tale. And this is what happened next.

IP: Logged

Tantalus
Ensign posted 12-11-2001 11:19 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And then suddenly....someone posted...DA DA DAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaa
(Sorry...couldnt resist )

IP: Logged

Mako
Ensign posted 12-11-2001 03:21 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
lol, just couldnt help yourself could you Tanty?
Come on Socky whats the tale J'inn has? It couldn't be too intelligent, Oh did I just say that out loud?
------------------
KAT-Mako

«"A fight should be clean and elegant, without waste"»

IP: Logged

corbin369
Ensign posted 12-12-2001 12:51 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OH NO!!! (shudder) NOT AGAIN!!!
Pass the Advil and the Prozac!!!
[This message has been edited by corbin369 (edited 12-12-2001).]

IP: Logged

SPQR Kremen
Ensign posted 12-12-2001 01:04 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In a dark room somewhere
Sevlek (whisper): It's started again.

Firehawk (whisper): At least we have warning this time....

Kremen (whisper): Time to lie low. Maybe we can wait it out...

Sevlek (whisper): Sounds good to me. This meeting never happenend.

Kremen and Firehawk: What meeting?

IP: Logged

Ole
Ensign posted 12-12-2001 09:00 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"There have been rumblings in the Hydran High Command. Entirely too many midight meetings and quiet talks for my liking... What we really don't like about it is that noone seems to know a thing. None of our contacts can find anything out. Ole, as a personal favor, could you scratch that itch just a bit?"
Ole leaned back in his chair ( hey! with three legs that is a Big Deal ), rubbed the bone behind his third eye (it was still a bit tender from ... well lets call it a domestic discussion...) before he replied, "There has been some discussions concerning the Royal Succession within the goverment. Truth be told, we've been kept in the dark on this matter. HFL personnel tend to be external oriented. However as a personal favor to you I'll make a few inquiries."

With that J'inn smiled ...

------------------

Ole

"I love the smell of Hellbores in the morning..."

[This message has been edited by Ole (edited 12-12-2001).]

IP: Logged

J'inn
Ensign posted 12-12-2001 09:49 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hmm" J'inn thought. "A little political turmoil on Hydra." J'inn filed that in his mind under "Items to be Used to My Advantage at a Later Date."
"Gentlemen" J'inn whispered. "I've come across a rather distrubing bit of intelligence. It's . . . the Romulans." S'Cipio grunted in disapproval, and then they all leaned over the table as J'inn began to whisper.

---------
To be continued at a later date. Lord help us all.

IP: Logged

likkerpig
Ensign posted 12-12-2001 10:31 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Likkerpig, rank Peon Ignoramus, member of the Golden Pride Fleet happily stares off into the nothingness of the universe. Not having a clue of the goings on around him he is in bliss! Now if he could only find an Orion frigate to beat up on!
He thinks to himself `I wonder what the great powers are up to? Surely Sockfoots next post will tell me!`
YESSS I did it! Posted enough meaningless messages to get out of that red shirt! I think I`ll have a beer to celibrate!
Cheers!

[This message has been edited by likkerpig (edited 12-12-2001).]

IP: Logged

ZTempest
Ensign posted 12-12-2001 10:43 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ship shuddered and groaned as disrupters tore through the paper-thin rear shield and struck hull. The follow-up phaser fire scored a long line down the rear nacelle warp engine.
T'Rang snarled. "HET on my mark, NOW!"

The ship lurched and something went BANG deep in the bowels of the Mirak Destroyer as it abruptly spun 180 degrees from its heading. T'Rang knew his ship couldn't take much more damage. This had to end NOW.

"Launch drones from all racks. Disrupters and all phaser banks, fire at will!"

Pure hellfire flamed around the Lyran light cruiser as the disrupter bolts slammed into its shields, creating a golden halo. Phaser fire rippled along the Lyran vessel, bringing down the last shield as a full drone strike relentlessly homed in on the crippled vessel. The Lyran managed to shoot down two of the drones before the other two hit, causing a sudden flare of light in the forward screen. When the light faded, the Lyran vessel was no more.

That last phaser strike must have taken out his ESGs thought T'Rang. He punched his com button as his bridge crew began to relax. "Go to yellow alert. Damage control to deck four, I think that HET took out one of our hull braces. Security stand down and boarding parties report to security for debriefing. Science officer, scan for survivors."

The raids had been getting worse lately. It almost seemed as if the Lyrans were preparing for something...big. In recent weeks the raids had been more like probes-in-force, with heavier Lyran combatants crossing the neutral zone into Mirak space. Sure, the occasional frigate or destroyer was expected -- warriors had to prove themselves in peacetime somehow...but light cruisers? V'Chuss had told him last week that he had been forced to run from a Lyran Heavy Cruiser that he had stumbled on near Starbase 12. His heavy frigate had barely escaped.

The Science Officer interrupted his musings. "Sir! I am reading one active escape capsule with a single Lyran lifeform inside."

T'Rang instinctively reached for his phaser command override to target and destroy the escape pod. The unwritten rules stated that neither side ever took prisoners, but then he hesitated. When the destroyer's phasers did not lash out, the rest of the crew turned to look at him.

Slowly, T'Rang removed his claw from the fire button. "Comms, I need an open channel to Mirak Intelligence, Colonel J'inn, immediately, and also get me Captain Tempest, High Patriarch Guard Fleet. Security, to the transporter room immediately!"

T'Rang leaned back. What they needed now were answers, not mindless death.

It was time to take a prisoner.

[This message has been edited by ZTempest (edited 12-12-2001).]

[This message has been edited by ZTempest (edited 12-12-2001).]

Gook · « **Reply #1 on:** October 15, 2004, 02:41:14 pm »

Hondo_8
Ensign posted 12-12-2001 12:05 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Leaning in listening to what J'inn is saying gently blowing smoke rings into the air, keeping quiet as to when J'inn finishes, a slow grin along with a crazey light in his eyes.
" Interesting very interesting" mutters Hondo as he crushes out the cigar and leans back into his chair.

FPF Honod

IP: Logged

Gook
Ensign posted 12-12-2001 12:17 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gook looked at the report again, Jinn and the Mysterious "Cuban", what is more there was talk of him putting the mysterious "Cuban" in his mouth and "Blowing smoke". Who was this "Cuban" and what exactly was Jinn doing/been done too.
That rascal was at it again, time to dig a little deeper and see what dirt could be found

------------------
KAT-Gook
KZ/Mirak MOD CW5
KZINTI Hegemony,
"Felix Fortius"

We are the Kzinti Assault Taskforce. Resistance is futile. Your Distinctiveness <burp> will be added to our palate (C)
KAT-Fleet

[This message has been edited by Gook (edited 12-12-2001).]

IP: Logged

Ole
Ensign posted 12-12-2001 01:19 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The stealthed CRU accelerated to warp. Ole sat in the command chair musing to himself. The Legionaires working around him stayed quietly out of his way. His thougths were turmoiled and disturbed.
The little group he had just left were a fine group, as long as you played with your own cards when the poker game was suggested. Socky was always a barrel of laughs, if thats what those horrible sounds coming out of his mouth were. Oxygen-breather humor seemed a bit odd to him. Everytime Sockfoot laughed(well, either that or he choked on that cigar he kept chewing on, it really was hard to tell), the glare from his bare cranium would flash into Oles' eyes. Sockfoot kept refering to odd cultural events and people and would laugh often(again Ole had to be open-minded about that), confusing references since very few culture references were understood between the Hydrans and the rest of the galaxy (although the terran sage "Monty Python" had reached a cult following back on Hydrax).

Ole understood the real purpose of these little backdoor meetings. Sometimes a quiet word in the right audio receptors made all the difference in the greater picture. Subtle give and take gave the life blood of information by which empires (and Kingdoms) rose and fell. And the beer was good too. But today, several disturbing things had come up. First, notice had been made of the going ons at the Palace. He hoped that he had diverted the attention, but was afraid he hadn't. Then new word had come of the Romulans. No, this was not good, not good at all....

He rose from the command chair. "Captain Vendetta, you have the conn. Maintain course to Taskforce Indigo, make your best speed."

Back in his quarters, he punched in his security code. "Admiral Max Power... yes, I'll hold... Good day Sir... Thank you sir, I had a lovely time... No sir, well, I didn't lose too much. Its just that its hard to tell the difference between a "heart" and a "club" with their cards. Their "club" looks like our "heart", I lose track of that occasionally... I did get them to agree to a game of Hydran Golf next time... No Sir, I don't think they know about the meat-eating fish, their version seems a bit tamer than ours... Sir, I'm afraid we have a situation... We seem to have confimation of a Romulan connection... No sir, not hard evidence, just a little hint around the edges, sounds like they've got their fingers burned in some other pies... Yes sir, I'm taking a few ships to see if we can get harder evidence.... There hasn't been any word on the ISC so far... No Sir, noone seems to suspect the full extent yet, at least not where it concerns the Royal House. I didn't think I should start tossing things out till we had a better idea of what's going on, there are too many moving parts in all of this... I think we can count on them to at least see the bigger picture when the time comes...Yes, I really hope we're wrong, if we are I'll happily submit my card losses to the expense account, at least there would be an expense account.... I'm making arrangments with Captain ChrisLee to cover for me, he's going to refer to me taking some time to spend with the family.... Yes Sir. I'm taking Vendetta and a few others.... Thank you Sir, Good luck to you too, Ole out."

------------------

Ole

"I love the smell of Hellbores in the morning..."

[This message has been edited by Ole (edited 12-12-2001).]

IP: Logged

Goose
Ensign posted 12-12-2001 02:22 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
M'Ress snapped off the sports channel, took his feet off the coffee table and uttered the most feared of all expressions for a male.
"Yes dearr."

Guess who came home?

IP: Logged

J'inn
Ensign posted 12-12-2001 04:08 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To each and every one of you I have to say. I'm sorry. I am truly sorry. For you see boredom has gotten to me, Socky and a few others as we await CW6.
So . . . .
--------

Aboard a Hydran CRU class warship, somewhere . . .

Ole was terrified. J'inn had just informed him that the Miraki Information Ministry had gotten wind that Admiral Drake was planning to meet with some very shady Romulans. That was all J'inn knew. But it was enough. For Drake, Ole knew, was politically aligned with the renegade prince and fully supported what Ole's sources felt was sure to be a coup against the King one day soon. If Drake was meeting with the Romulans it could only mean trouble. Serious trouble.

On the planet Remus deep, deep, really deep within Romulan space . . .

Admiral Drake and the human scientist were lead down the long hallway by the two hawkish Centurions. As they approached the double doors at the end Drake noted the following words embossed in gold over the archway of the doors: S.P.Q.R. Headquarters: Abandon All Hope Ye Who Pass Through This Portal.

On the other side of the locked doors was a large room lit only by candles and computer screens. Within the room sat four Romulan Admirals at a long conference table. They sat silently as they contemplated their next move. The chime sounded and a centurion's voice announced, "Admiral Drake and party are here sirs." . "Shhh!" They all said at once.

"I'm sorry sirs" the Centurion's voice whispered from the speaker on the table. "I'm new here."

"Yes, we can hear that." Kremen's voice whispered back with a snarl. "Show them in."

The great doors opened slowly, ominously and with a creak and Drake swore he heard a distant howl. But no, "it must have been the hinges on the door," he thought. "Stay here," he ordered the human as he crossed the threshold.

As Drake approached the table he shivered slightly. It seemed the temperature in the room was a few degrees colder than in the hallway. Within he noted the four pairs of Romulan eyes upon him. No emotion, no feeling, just secrets. "Gentlemen" he started. But before he could finish his greeting the four men started and as one all made a shushing sound. "Gentlemen" he whispered, "I have a proposition."

"Go on" Kremen whispered.

"As you are aware . . ." At that point Sevelek cut him off. "We can neither confirm nor deny that we are aware of anything" the Romulan whispered.

Drake sighed. This was going to take a while. "As you may be aware" he restated, causing the Romulans to noticeably relax. The tal'Shiar. . . ."

"There is no such . . ." Firehawk whispered urgently.

"Alright, alright, certain Romulans from a certain Romulan agency approached me a few weeks ago. They had become aware of my prince's plans to overthrow the King. They made me an interesting offer. I was informed that if Hydran military forces secretly loyal to the prince helped Romulus take control of five Hydran sectors then they would assist us in our coup. I have advised the prince of this offer and he has accepted. I also understand that you need the planets in these sectors de-methaned so that they can be of use to Romulan citizens. To that end, I have a plan." Drake finished with a flourish.

"Excellent!" Sevelek hissed while the other three rubbed their hands together and smiled at one another. "Our scientists have not been able to solve the methane problem. We have tried Gamma Rays, Muion Beams, Cosmic Rays, nothing. We even tried Pepto Bismol saturation bombing on a few methane planets in Romulan space, but to no avail.

"Gentlemen" Drake said a little too loudly.

"Shhhh!!"

"Gentlemen" he whispered, "I have brought with me the only man in the quadrant who has solved this problem. But I must warn you, he is as evil as he is odd." And with that Drake turned, walked to the doors, and pulled them open. Standing there, in the hallway, was a middle aged human male of average build. "Gentlemen, I give you Dr. Melvin Brookins, mad scientist, evil genius extra ordinaire."

"Oye, I see the whole gonza mishpucha is here!" The human stated.

The Romulans looked at each other questioningly. And then turned and with one voice said "Shhhhhh!"

"Oh that's right" Brookins whispered, and then he leaned close to the microphone in Drake helmet and whispered "You were right, they are a bunch of mishuganas."

He then turned to the table, "Gentlemen, I believe I have solved your little gas problem."

"How is that possible human." Kremen sneered with disdain

"Hey keep it up and I'll get schpillkis. Oye, you guys could stand a little lightening up. Anyway, shut your pie hole and I'll tell you." Brookins whispered. The Romulans all looked confusedly at each other again.

"Schpillkis?" Kremen asked.

"It means nervous, laughing boy. Let me guess, not a circumcised pointy eared fellow in the room, right?" The Romulans all looked nervous and their hands slowly disappeared under the table. "Anyway" Brookins continued, "here's what ya gotta do."

"I've created a new form of plasma. I call it Beano Plasma. Yes, Beano Plasma. All you have to do is fire it at a planet and the methane atmosphere will combust. The methane will burn off and, viola, a planet ready for terra-forming."

"And what of the planet's inhabitants?" Firehawk asked.

"You ever see a Terran Gas Barbecue Grill?" Brookins said with an evil smile and the Romulans started to laugh but quickly shushed themselves for being too loud.

"Wait, just how do we deliver the weapon, there is no way Romulan ships, cloak or not, will get that deep into Hydran space." Sevelek stated.

"That is where I come in." Drake whispered. "I am secretly forming a super secret task force of Hydran pilots who are loyal to the prince. The Beano Plasma launchers will have to be retrofitted onto the Hydran war ships. it will take weeks, but it will work. Besides" he continued "the king is so busy dealing with the Federation and the Lyrans right now" for some odd reason Drake sneezed involuntarily at that point.

"Shhhh!"

"Sorry" Drake whispered, I've been doing that a lot lately. "Anyway, the King is distracted as is the Hydran military. No one expects an attack from the Romulan front. It's been all quiet here for months."

"Yes, yes it has." Kremen whispered while smiling to his cohorts. "Drake go prepare your fleet. Brookins, we will provide you with the finest laboratory on Remus. Get to work!"

"Oh I'm so excited I could plotz!" Brookins exclaimed. The Romulans just looked confused. Looking at his rather dour looking hosts Brookins said "Oye, welcome to Dullsville, I'll get a lot of work done here."

After Drake and Brookins had left the Romulans to their darkened sanctum sanctorum and glasses of Romulan ale had been provided. Kremen stated as he held his glass aloft, "Gentlemen, to Operation: Somebody Lite a Match!" and with that they all tapped there glasses together with a loud clink.

"Shhhhhhhhhhh!"

[This message has been edited by J'inn (edited 12-12-2001).]

IP: Logged

Goose
Ensign posted 12-12-2001 06:59 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Melvin Brookins?!?!?
OI!

Beano?!?!?

Pewwww!

IP: Logged

Ole
Ensign posted 12-13-2001 02:49 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Space. A darkness beyond night. Distances beyond measure. Eons of unchanging time.
An escape capsule, slowly spinning. Left behind to protect secrets by a commander and crew quickly expanding into plasma. The pirates that now laugh at their triumph never realizing the untold riches they flew by and never even suspected.

Gook · « **Reply #2 on:** October 15, 2004, 02:42:13 pm »

Hondo_8
Ensign posted 12-13-2001 07:11 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aboard the Heavy Cruiser the USS Love Machine some where in the neutral zone Captain Hondo sits in his romper I mean ready room.
"Admiral Wonka I have just recieved word from Capt. Jeff that I am to escort the Lyran and Hydran diplomats to Volcan to discuss the impending conflict"
Admiral Willy Wonka leans back in his chair. " Hondo follow the orders the shipment of cattle seems that it will be delayed so you have time. See that the diplomats are treated fully to your antics and liquer." Wonka grins " Be sure that you keep hush about our plans for the cattle. No need for the romulans to be suspicius of Area 31's ulterior motives." Wonka signs out leaving a grinning Hondo lounging in his bubble bath.

Two days later the USS Love Machine picks up the two diplomates and sets course for vulcan.

"Ensign break out the slip and slid and lay it out on the bridge, then invite the Lyran Likkerpig and the Hdyran Kai Lae on the bridge for some fun.....Ohhh make sure they bring towels Im not running a resort on this ship...speaking of resorts... inform the engineer that he will need to convert our shuttle bays to pasture land I want some kentuky blue grass with in a week." Hondo leans back grining sipping his whiskey sour.

IP: Logged

Delta One
Ensign posted 12-13-2001 08:23 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Captain Janus scowled at the report in front of him. He was currently on board the RHA Star Runner, a Traveller class fast cruiser conducting the rather boring job of putting the ship through its shakedown cruise. Having spent so much time 'captaining' the ships of other races, it was somewhat relaxing to be able to shed the encounter suit and the holographic projector and enjoy the methane atmosphere of a Hydran ship unemcumbered.
But this report, if true was truly troubling. Romulan intriques and a plot to overthrow the King! Although it was only a small report from the last edition of the Galatic Truth news site, Captain Janus had ordered his ship to divert from it's prearranged course and head to the Galatic Truth offices in neutral space. Indiscrete perhaps thought Janus, but this initative would not be frowned upon as it was a security matter concerning the King.

"We are coming up on the asteroid where the Galactic Truth is published sir." came the call from the bridge. Janus put down the report and it automatically flipped back to it's front page, a obviously doctored picture of Klingon captian Dogmatix in a dress with a side picture of Gorn captain S'cipio with packing tape stuck to his head.

Stepping onto the bridge, Janus gave his order, "On screen."

Janus gasped, "Go to yellow alert."

As the bridge lights flickered as the Star Runner's shields raised, Janus could see on the viewscreen that the asteroid barely appeared intact and the Galactic Truth offices were clearly gone. Janus asked, "Lifesigns?"

The science officer scanned her console, "No lifesigns sir. I'm reading high levels of Gorn plasma and Klingon disruptor residue. Attempting to trace to any known ships." A pause. "The computer is unable to make a determination, sir. The energy residues have decayed too much."

"Can we download their databanks to ours?"

"No sir," replied the science officer, "The computer reports that too much damage has occurred for them to be successfully retreieved. All data has been lost."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"Approximately.... 9 days ago sir."

Pacing the bridge, Janus cursed to himself. Turning to the bridge crew he gave his spoke,

"A matter of grave import has come to my attention. A matter so grave that I it could affect the very future of the Kingdom. A matter so important that it may even threaten the King himself."

The crew gasped and Janus paused for a second before he continued on,
"Our shakedown cruise was supposed to be a patrol of the Romulan border at high warp. This will we still do. However I want all of you to keep alert. You are ordered to keep this information to yourselves. I will not tolerate insuboardination on this matter. Helm, proceed to the Romulan border and begin our patrol as per the parameters specified by high command."

"Aye sir, course laid in."

"Engage." With that Janus left the bridge leaving his crew as mystified as they were frightened.

The Star Runner shot off into warp and Captain Janus felt the ship lurch more violently than was usual. He reminded himself to have the engineers adjust the inertial dampners to compensate.

Walking into his ready room, Captain Janus felt dread fill him. Whoever was seeking the aid of the Romulans to overthrow the King was truly a fool. The Romulans would see to it that the Kingdom quickly became a puppet regime of Romulus. Doubtless the Federation would get involved and another General War would start. But what side would the Hydrans be on? Janus shuddered to himself again at the thought of yet another war.

About to speak the commands to the computer to call First Space Lord Max Power, Captain Janus stopped himself. What if even High Command were involved in this plot? If he didn't place his confidence in the right person, the King was doomed and he and his crew with him.

But who to trust? Who to trust?

"Computer, get me.... Captain.... J'inn.. of the Mirak Hegemony."

Just like giving your credit card number to a stranger over the internet, Janus had a feeling he was going to regret this.....

------------------
Captain Janus
RHA Night Watch
Royal Hydran Armada

"Your superior intellect is no match for our puny weapons!"

[This message has been edited by Delta One (edited 12-13-2001).]

IP: Logged

Drake
Ensign posted 12-14-2001 03:17 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sweet scent of recycled methane filled the shuttle.
Drake thought; Romulans, Those fools Once we have thier help they will find that the good Doctors research is flawed. The planets dont stay demethaned for long a year after the process has 'vapourised'the methane its new 'inert' byproduct breaks down. They will find that there wonderful oxyegen planets turned back into methane gardens. All that work lost in a blink of an eye. Ready for use to reclaim them with little trouble. That fool of a human doctor is too much the meglomaniac to admit his process is flawed. But every Hydran scientist that looked over the data confirmed the flaw. It was a shame that I had to deprive the Kingdom of 4 scientists but this could not leak. We must not let the King make peace with the Lyrans. I will see thier evil purged from the galaxy.
The shuttle docked.

A Midshipman approached, 'Admiral if you will follow me Lord Max Power wishes to speak with you, at once'.

'Lead on'.

As Adrm. Drake entered Lord Max Powers office he looked for any sign that his plans were known to the Lord. No I was still trusted as well I should be, the King had called me up from retirement himself. thought Drake.

'My Lord'

1st Lord Admiral Max Power was releaved to see Admrial Drake. This was the one man he could trust the King himself had recinded Admiral Drake's early retirement. If any hydran was Loyal to the King it would be him.

'Drake no need to be so formal. What have you learned? Is it as we fear?'

'Yes I'm a fraid it is, My Lord. I have reason to believe that we have a traitor in our ranks. I believe that this traitor is in communications with both the Romulans and the Klingons. Seems both these empires wish our war with the Lyrans to continue.'

'Doesnt this fool realize we need this peace to consolidate? He will bring ruin on us all. Blast the bloody wanker... Go on.'

'We have been unable to determine who the traitor is but I believe I can find him... However I will need to have your authorization to... stretch my powers. I am authorized only to look into officers in the Navy and merchant marines. I wish the powers to extend this to the civilian population. I understand that is normaly not our juristiction but I dare not let this leak or tell civilian authoritise. I think I should look into the palace staff as well.'

'What you believe that the Royal Family may be in danger?'

'No but our spy has privalage information that my not be a Naval leak. It may come the the King's staff, however unlikly it must be looked into. The more people that we inform of the problem the more likely that our spy will get wind of it.'

'Quite right. Quite right. I will draw up your orders giving you the power to investigate anyone in the Empire save the Royal family itself.'

'Thank you sir. I shall retire at once and make preparations. If I may?'

'What?... Oh yes at once.'

As Drake walked to the door he turned and spoke,'My Lord I will need access to all areas with no questions asked so as not to tip our hand. Cant have some Lt. Commander contacting you every time I want to investigate an officer or civilian. That will be a sure tip off of what we are doing.'With out waiting for a reply Drake left the office.

------------------
Capt. Drake Lyran Slayer
Royal Hydran Navy

[This message has been edited by Drake (edited 12-14-2001).]

IP: Logged

Hondo_8
Ensign posted 12-14-2001 08:16 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Captain Hondo we are entering orbit around Vulcan now shall I prepare the transporters to send our two guests down?" Captain Hondo relaxing in his hot tub sipping his morning drink a bloody mary, smiles as he responds.
" Diplomat Likkerpig and Diplomat Kai Lae pleasse report to transporter room three."
Captain Hondo waves over his nurse as he climbs out of the hot tub and she wraps him up in his robe and places his bunny slippers on his feet. Then he strolls down to the the transporter room three to send his special guests off to Vulcan.
On the planet Vulcan in the medation dome of Logic awaits a Federation task force to discuss the rumors and to listen to what the Hydran's king diplomat Kai Lae has to say.

"I do not like the smell of this Hydran Thrain, his scent is tainted..." whispers Likkerpig as he takes a seat by several ranking Federation officers. " He has not spoken a word during our trip, he made no effort to request aid from my government, nor spoke of the Hydran's king concerns..." Thrain turns to Likkerpig and shrugs his shoulders "The hydrans have there own ways, but ever since the ISC pacified there homeworld they have been distant even after they were liberated, besides Hydran King knows that the true power in our allaince is the Federation and would come to us first for help as that is why he sent Kai Lae to ask for aid in what ever crises the Hydrans feel is comming" Thrain elbows Likerpig with a smirk and chuckle then hushing up as Kai Lae approches the podium to speak.

The large Hydran floats up to the podium and casts an unearving gaze across the room.

" Greeting fellow friends" friends come out hollow and unfeeling " I have come on our Kings behalf to implore aid be given to our endagered Kingdom...and to ask for federation aid in defending our borders."

Captain Jeff and Captain Bach listen as the Hydran Kai Lae rambles on. "Bach is your fleet ready to be deployed to Hydran space to investagate the romulan threat?" Capt. Jeff looks to Bach waiting for an answer. " Yes the FPF is ready to be deployed though Captain Hondo seems to have recieved orders from higher up to remain detached from the fleet." Capt. Jeff nods and replies "Rember that if this conflict gets out of hand and our own space is under threat, that you come back and defend our space. This could be a plot to draw us away from our space so that the Klingons can come in and swoop down to couse us havoc." Bach nods and returns to listening the the Hydran diplomat.

"The Hydrans have been dependent on federation aid for too long!!!" The listeners murmer with the change of tone in the speech. " For too long we have been serving the whims of the Federation with no gains for our selves, Our King is blinded by Federation lies and promises...We were pacified by the ISC and were was the Federation? They were in there space caring on their personal war with the Klingons ignoring there allies in times of need!!! It was the Romulans that really won the war and set us free, they are true warriors, while the pathatic Federation pilots scurried around there quadrants retaking useless space from the Klingons, the Hydrans had to into hiding to perserve our race.....the Romulans gave us sanctuary in our time of need!!!" Shocked silince feels the room as Federation, Gorn and lyran captains look stunned. "Why are you all so suprised, the Federation has never been a true help to any of us! They only help them selves." Kai Lae chuckles darkly as his speech has had the intended effect."So gentlemen I leave you with what you all so richly deserve...."

The Hydran diplomat steps forward in to the middle of the room and a strange tune floats out of him strangly sounds like polka music.

Likkerpig Jumps up and crys out "Take cover that is not an Hydran but a machine...its going to blo........"

A huge explosion of fire and polka music tears across the room killing and injuring many leaving many on the floor in a state of confusion.

"Captain Hondo we are leaving orbit now and preparing to go to warp"

Captain Hondo smiles as he turns his view screen off. " How is the conversion of the shuttle bays doing?"

Gook · « **Reply #3 on:** October 15, 2004, 02:44:38 pm »

J'inn
Ensign posted 12-14-2001 09:32 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two days earlier . . .
A nice sunny late morning in the capital of Mraa . . .

The turbolift stopped at the top floor of the non-descript Mirak Information Ministry building and J'inn strolled out. The two guards shot to attention as he huffed by them. J'inn was steamed. Well, steamed and a tad hungover. He had lost 300 credits playing poker last night, most of it to S'Cipio, and had had one too many Singapore Slings. To make matters worse he had gotten into an accident on the way in from his luxury flat and had dented his antique Terran 2002 Jaguar XJR. Yes, J'inn was one grumpy kitty.

"Dammit, how does that reptile always seem to know when I'm bluffing!" He fummed to no one in particular. Crossing the atrium, he opened the doorway to his outer office and entered. Within, at a large desk sat his chief aide, a military Lt. Commander.

"Hello Sir!" The man stated with surprise as he came to attention. J'inn couldn't understand what the problem was, here it was 10:45 a.m., that was an average starting time for a night life loving cat like himself. "Hurrmmph!" J'inn grumbled back as he went directly to the coffee pot. "Mmmmm. Coffee," he thought, "nothing like coffee when your hungover, gosh I could just kiss the human who thought of it." And then he saw what was the most infuriating thing he had seen in years. There was NO coffee made! J'inn roared in anger has the threw the empty pot at his aide. "Where the hell is my coffee!"

"But, sir, it's Friday, you usually, don't come in on Fridays due to your Thursday night poker games." The aide said. The poor man had heard about the fate of one of J'inn's prior aides. The unlucky officer had been reassigned as third officer aboard one of J'inn's many personal warships during the last war. He never made it to the escape pod in time.

"In this business you expect the unexpected Commander. That is unless you would rather have the honor as serving as an officer on the MCS Chuckathon under my command." J'inn threatened. At that, the young officer merely shuddered as he gaithered up the aluminum pot and quickly ran off to fetch some water and coffee grounds.

Without his morning coffee, J'inn stormed through the next door and into his huge leather and walnut filled office. Taking his chair, he began to thumb through the morning briefing papers. "Hmm let's see" J'inn said to no one as he read and thought:

"- Hondo escorting a Hydran and Lyran delegation to Vulcan for a summit. No why would HE be assigned that task. That psychopath is up to something, I feel it in my bones!

- Political discontent on Q'onos. Nothing new there. Ever see a content Klingon. Hah! Dogmatix couldn't spell it. Ha! C-O-umm K-I-L-L. Har har! I crack me up.

- A request from Kor for something called Shirley Temple DVDs, whatever those are. (J'inn made a note to tell Kor he didn't have any such things)

- Let's see ooo the Gorn are . . .

Just then his comm panel beeped. Hitting the accept button the smiling furry face of Knizbane appeared on his screen. Knizbane had been visiting Mraa for the last few weeks for diplomatic reasons. To say the least, this was the last thing J'inn needed right now. J'inn then noted the cigar clutched between the feline's teeth. He also noted the band's markings. ONE OF MY CUBANS!!!" He thought.

"Heya J'inn. Sorry to bug you but I was wondering if you could bring a few more cases ?o beer by the officers' club when you swing by tonight. You guys are fresh out."

"Look you little weasel, I'm not your personal beer boy and I'm gonna count my stoogie inventory when I get there. If just one is missing you sir, are dead." J'inn growled.

"Look, I don't need this abuse, I'm just here to get to know you guys better. Man, I'd hate to have to tell the Patriarch that you were so mean to me that I had to leave. Gosh that would be a shame." Knizbane said with a toothy snile.

"Oooo! You little sumobitch! This is just Brezgonne's way of torturing me. I just know it. I swear I'm gonna . . ." Sigh. "What kind of beer would you like." J'inn deflated. There was no way J'inn would risk further angering the Patriarch. He wasn't on the Great Leader's list of favorites as it was.

"Oh, I duuno, maybe some of that nice Anchor Steam. Oh, and by the by, pick up some more CatNip too. Your fresh out!. Toodles, J'inn!" And with that the screen faded to black.

J'inn was now beyond furious. Anchor Steam! It was the most expensive beer around. CatNip! When he had last checked two days ago there was over a pound left. Those Lyran's were smoking machines! At that point his comm panel beeped again.

J'inn slammed his paw down on the "accept" button and expecting it to be Knizbane requesting milk, he screamed "Now what!"

To J'inn's surprise the hideous visage of an unfamiliar Hydran apopeared on his screen. The creature?s three eye stalks were moving side to side rhymically. J'inn re-coiled. "Oye!, This I gotta see first thing in the morning and without coffee. I should have stayed in bed." He thought just before he roared. "Where's my damn coffee!!!" Whatever this Hydran wanted, J'inn didn't want to deal with it.

He then faced the screen and said, "Hello, you've reached the Miraki Information Ministry, no one is available to take your call, please leave a message at . . "

"Minister, this is Captain Janus of the Hydran space fleet. It is urgent that I speak with you. I have come across information that could lead to an unbalance of power in the alpha quadrant. I think we should talk." The Hydran stated. The translator made his voice sound robotic.

J'inn was immediately suspicious. However, Hydran's weren't known for being devious and could generally be trusted. "Why isn't Ole contacting me with this, and why aren't you talking to him insted of me." J'inn asked while wondering what Ole had figured out so far about the rumored Admiral Drake/Romulan connection.

"I'm afraid central command has informed me that Ole's current position is classified and he is not to respond to subspace hails from anyone below the grade of Fleet Admiral. Something, I fear is afoot. J'inn, please, the Mirak and the Hydrans have always been close friends, I need to talk to you. Privately. ASAP!" The Hydran was clearly flustered.

"Oh, alright! I'll advise the fleet to expect a Hydran Warship in route to Mraa." J'inn said testly. He was very hungover. "Coffee dammit!" He screamed again.

"No, if what I fear is true then I dare not leave Hydran space, I must stay near the Romulan border. We must meet here."

Now J'inn was really wishing he had stayed in bed, but this was the second time in so many days that he had come across something involving the Romulans and the Hydrans. And the Hydrans seemed really jump lately. Darn ISC pacification hangover, J'inn assumed. But the Romulan border!

"What! A guy could get hurt all the way out there! You think I'm nuts!" J'inn yelled.

"Oh yes, I forgot, well perhaps instead of coming on your own ship you could arrive as a guest aboard another Mirak warship." J'inn swore the Hydran was actually smiling. "Seriously, J'inn I fear the Hydran King is in mortal danger. There are elements within the governemnt that believe we should form an alliance with the Klingons. But I've said too much already. Please you must meet me at Jalix VI."

"Damn! This had better be good Janus. I'll meet you there in three days or so! J'inn out!"

"Hmmm." J'inn thought. "I gotta get all the way out there. It will take a day or two just to get there at high warp. Plus, I can't leave here just yet. I gotta play host to old furball. Grrrr!

"Hmmm. No way I'm flying out there all alone. I may lose a lot of ships, but I ain't stupid. I need a really good Captain to get me there all safe and comfy. I wonder where my good buddy M'Ress is right now <snicker>. Oh my head."

"Coffee Dammit!!!"

[This message has been edited by J'inn (edited 12-14-2001).]

IP: Logged

Goose
Ensign posted 12-14-2001 10:11 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
J'inn puched a combination of buttons on the comm panel. After a minute of quiet beeping a face finally appeared in the viewscreen. It was M'Ress. But instead of an eyepatch, he was wearing an oversized beret which had slipped over the left eye.
"Ya mon. What cha wanting mon."

J'inn stared at the screen in disbeleif. Aside from the unusual appearence of his friend, there also seemed to be a hazy film across the screen. He took a kercheif from his pocket and tried to wipe the screen to no avail. Just then M'ress lifted something to his mouth and took a deep breath.

The answer hit him like a thunderbolt.

"So that's where the Katnip went!"

M'ress squinted at the Comm on his end.

"J'inn?! Dat you mon? You ought to git down here, done cha know. This Kzinbane know how to pahty!"

"M'ress, I need you to do something for me right now!"

IP: Logged

Kzinbane2
Ensign posted 12-14-2001 10:11 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kzinbane left the officer club communications room after talking to J?inn and headed one last time for the cooler. Why he continued to look even knowing nothing was there was beyond him but he again opened the cooler and stared at the vast emptiness forlornly. He puffed once more on the cigar and took it from his mouth, glaring briefly at it. ?This is the last one,? he muttered to himself, ? I must find this planet called CubAh and see about setting up some shipments to Lyra?.
Kzinbane wandered into the game room, which was empty save for M?raa who had just passed out after drinking the last of a vile Miraki drink called Vizkey. The rest of the club was quiet and empty.

Kzinbane dropped what was left of the cigar on the plush carpet and ground it out with a booted foot.

The Mirak home world, called both Mraa at times and Kzin had seen threats before. Astrominers and sungliders had threatened it before the Mirak had even taken to space. The Lyrans, ISC, Klingons and even the Federation at one time or another had threatened the home world of the Mirak. Nothing however had prepared Mraa for the threat now approaching. This was a threat so insidious as to have the potential of dissolving the Mirak society from within. A threat beyond anything the mighty Mirak people had ever dreamed of?.

Kzinbane was bored! He had happily spent the last week inside the Miraki officers club. He calmly looked around one last time ? furniture scratched properly? Check! Proper claims made on walls and beer locker (he sniffed) Check! He walked to the exit, swung the huge door open and looked out at the busy streets. Sniffing the air he smiled, he smelled WOMEN! With a grin of anticipation Kzinbane shut the clubhouse door and ventured out into the warm morning air.

[This message has been edited by Kzinbane2 (edited 12-14-2001).]

IP: Logged

Hippocrates
Extra in Red Shirt posted 12-14-2001 10:13 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Somewhere near the unexplored regions on the Federation Frontier:
The Fleet Carrier USS Endeavour sails gracefully through the inky darkness of deep space. Following the ISC War of Pacification, the Endeavour had been assigned as the flagship for a two year mission of exploration and research along the fringes of uncharted regions. Instead of the latest in fighter technology, the Endeavour?s shuttle bays were now crammed with dozens of scientific shuttles and probes, each capable of independent operations, returning to the Carrier only for resupply and duty shifts.

Commodore Hippocrates stood in his ready room, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out the view port and contemplating the choices which lay before him. Although some might consider this a back water assignment, the Commodore wouldn?t have it any other way ? exploration had always suited him more than combat, and the Endeavour?s latest mission (and perhaps final one; Starfleet was having a difficult time justifying the high maintenance costs of the Endeavour during these times of relative peace; the ship was slated for the breakers as soon as she completed her current assignment) seemed to Hippocrates to be the epitome of what Starfleet?s ships were designed to do. Now though, the tranquil peace which had permeated the last few months had been shattered in an afternoon of bizarre happenstance.

It had started five hours earlier, when Ensign Harpo Marx had broken regs by bringing a cup of coffee along with him during a maintenance inspection of the comm grid. Not being the most coordinated of fellows, Marx had ended up spilling the contents of his cup onto the exposed circuitry of the grid. During the ensuing chaos, frantic techs had dived deep into the grid's innards in an attempt to repair the damage done, only to discover a mysterious piece of equipment attached to the grid which should not have been there. Shortly after this discovery, as security teams were attempting to secure the device, a maintenance tech had unsuccessfully tried to destroy the evidence, resulting in a brief firefight during which the tech had been killed. Now Hippocrates waited for his Security Chief to finish analyzing the available data and present his report.

A soft chime sounded, announcing he had a visitor, and Hippocrates hit the door release on his desk while turning to face the doorway. Chief Wallace stood framed in the doorway, a cross between anger and pain etched onto his face. ?Sir, I?ve got a preliminary report to give you. You?re not going to like it, Sir.?

?It doesn?t matter what I like or dislike, Commander, I need to hear it anyway.?

Wallace sighed, his expression changing to one of resignation. ?Aye, Sir.? Hippocrates waved the chief over to a seat by his desk, and Wallace seated himself before continuing. ?First of all, Sir, my men have been working with Chief Engineer Evans, and we?ve determined that the device attached to the comm grid was a subspace transmitter, designed to encrypt short-range transmissions, encrypt them, and then piggy-back them onto our normal outgoing-traffic. At the same time, it scanned all of our incoming mail and picked out transmissions on specific carrier waves which were then transmitted to a specific location within the ship. We were able the replicate the carrier wave and trick it into transmitting, so that we were able to trace the transmission to its intended destination within the ship.?

Hippocrates raises an eyebrow, and Wallace sighs again. ?Not surprisingly, our trace led us to crewman Baker?s quarters, Sir.?

?That?s the fellow who tried to destroy the transmitter, if I remember correctly.?

?Aye, Sir. Baker was one of the maintenance techs, Sir; he had unsupervised access to that part of the ship at any time during his duty shifts. He could have installed that little do-dad months ago, Sir.?

Hippocrates furrowed his brows in though, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ?Why; to whom??

Wallace sighs again, and Hippocrates tries to repress an amused grin, despite the situation. ?We can?t say for sure, Sir. The contacts all had code names, the transmissions were being carried along with our own, so they had to be redistributed from there. As far as I can tell, they were just monitoring our position and activities. The out going transmissions are as ambiguous as could be. Now the incoming mail, Sir; now that?s interesting.? Wallace tossed a thick, bound, hardcopy onto the Commodore?s desk and leaned back into his chair as his commanding officer began to read. ?Status reports from the rest of their network, Sir.?

Reports indeed. Hippocrate's blood began to run cold as he flipped through the pages of the report. Detailed ship movements for almost every capitol ship in the fleet were all there, along with a great deal of information regarding the neighboring Powers. Political summaries, updates on prominent civilians, economic reports; it was all there. ?Sweet crud; these fellows have their fingers in every pie from here to Concordia.?

?That?s not all of it, Sir; keep reading.? And then Hippocrates saw what his friend meant. A reference to operation ?Cattle? being delayed, ?Polka Bomb? having been delivered, vague references to ?Methane Burn, and rumblings of unrest in the Hydran Kingdom.? ?These aren?t just intelligence operatives, Sir.only one group I know of has the resources and motivation to be interested in all this.?

?Section 31??

?If they really do exist, Sir, then yes. No way this is Fleet intel.its too big even for them.?

Commodore Hippocrates dismissed Commander Wallace and closed his eyes in thought. The amount of data was so staggering that it was obvious that whoever these fellows were, they might be able to intercept any communiqué he passed along to command. Yet, something had to be done; Section 31?s unspoken mandate to ?Further the Federation; at any cost? meant that no one could tell who they would back, nor who they would consider expendable?either as individuals or entire species. The reference to ?Methane Burn? sounded ominous, and it would be just like Section 31 to do something which would put that Methane breathing Hydrans back into ?their place? as the report indicated.

No, someone had to investigate this matter?political tensions were too high since the ?Oreo Incident? had swept through the quadrant a few weeks ago. And since Hippocrates dared not risk sending any communiqués to Command for fear of interception, that left only one option.

Sitting upright, Commodore Hippocrates reached for the intercom. ?Number One? Recall all shuttles and secure the ship for high warp. There seems to be a party growing on the Hydran border, and I think we?ve just been invited.?

[This message has been edited by Hippocrates (edited 12-14-2001).]

[This message has been edited by Hippocrates (edited 12-14-2001).]

[This message has been edited by Hippocrates (edited 12-14-2001).]

Gook · « **Reply #4 on:** October 15, 2004, 02:45:43 pm »

Ole
Ensign posted 12-14-2001 12:28 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hmmm, this is odd.." Ole thought as he leaned back in his command chair. "Captain Vendetta, order all ships to assume search pattern twelve."
Ole absent-mindedly patted the back of head, rubbed his tummy and tapped his manipulative appendages on his arm rest (His Legionaires hated that...). Taskforce Indigo was deep in nominal Klingon space, nominal since it was claimed but so far from any Klingon base that it was very unlikely to have even been surveyed by Klingon ships. They had been following rumors of a Romulan intelligence post that had been reportedly just activated. They had covered a number of previously unknown systems and had even stopped for a little well-earned R&R on a lovely gas giant two systems ago. But they had come across nothing but a few abandoned pirate bases.

Now though, strange readings were coming from his recon fighters. They had expected to find evidence of Romulan activity, but now had faint readings of a plasma trail heading away from any civilized region. The odd thing was, it hadn't seemed to have even originatd from any expected direction either.

"Either we have someone new out there or they've let Sockfoot go driving around again" thought Ole. There had been too many false trails lately, it seemed as if someone had deliberatly been laying a red hair for him. (Ole was proud of that saying, he had evesdropped it from his friend Gook during a card game, although he had no idea why someone would deliberately lay their top fur down for anyone else much less red fur. These earth saying were rather strange. Oh well, as the old Hydrax proverb goes 'Say nothing of my chickens and that gives us a more efficient means of going backwards'). This was, of course, impossible, since noone knew where his investigation was leading him.

A deep sigh, "Captain, I suppose we'd best follow that trail. Signal all ships to fall in formation when they complete their search patterns. I'll be in my quarters making a few subspace calls." He had been out of touch from too many people for too long. He hoped his calling plan had enough minutes left on it.

[This message has been edited by Ole (edited 12-14-2001).]

IP: Logged

Drake
Ensign posted 12-14-2001 01:52 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The corridors of the Imperial palace were open to Drake now more than ever. He was recognized are a friend of the King and was granted access to the palace's inner chambers. Drake watched to corridor and the doors to the rooms. All was clear. Quickly he entered to door he wanted and Turned out the lights.
'What?' cried the occupant.

'Silence' Taking out a scanner Drake searched the room. Clean. Then he set the scanner an acive jammer with a 2 m radius.

Walking up to the rooms occupant he stated,'Things are going as we planned.'

'Good. Good. Have we secured our much needed outside help?'

'As i said things are going as we planned.'

'Excellent. Then we are going to win this.'

Perhaps but we are in the early stages of our plan...'

'My Plan, Admiral!'

Your plan. We can still be dectected. We are still vulnerable. We must act in such a way so as not to tip our hand to soon. You must let me and my men deal with this.

'yes you are right.'

'Come we must leave this room it has been blacked out long enough.'

Drake left the room with the occupant unseen.

------------------
Capt. Drake Lyran Slayer
Royal Hydran Navy
Royal Hydran Intelligence

IP: Logged

J'inn
Ensign posted 12-14-2001 03:19 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Great, just great!" J'inn thought. "That damn Kzinbane went and OD'ed M'Ress on CatNip. Mraa! I hope he doesn't have brain damage. I better get another Captain for my journey. No time to call on every KAT."
With that, J'inn sent a mass e-mail to each member of the KAT Fleet asking for one of them to escort him to Jalix VI. He hit "Send" and then darted out of his office and to the turbolift. He had to get to the Officers' Club before Kzinbane burned the place down.

Jumping into his Jaguar XJR, J'inn fired up the loud and powerful engine. People always jumped when he did this as the EMF powered personal ground transports that most Miraks used were silent. After the engine's temperature gage showed that the engine was warm, J'inn revved the engine up to 2500 rpms and dumped the clutch. In a white cloud of molten rubber the ancient beast lunged forward and fishtailed out of the parking lot and onto the main roadway.

J'inn's first stop was a Brew Thru where he drove up to the drive-in window and picked up six cases of Anchor Steam beer. Cussing about the money he then headed down the main thoroughfare towards a Piggly Wiggly to get the CatNip. While in transit his communicator chirped. It was Doomee.

"Oh Lords!", J'inn thought. Knowing it was a mistake he answered his fiancee's call.

"Hi honey!" Doomee said cheerfully. "What cha' doing."

J'inn told her the whole story, well at least the non-classified version.

"Sound exciting" Doomee exclaimed.

"What!" J'inn yelled. "I could get killed out there, you know I hate leaving nice solid ground. Do you have any idea how many times I've made it to the command escape pod by the hair of my tail!"

"Everyone knows that honey." Doomee giggled. "The current tally on the wall of the KAT-House is 478. Besides I'm not worried, you use that emergency command teleport system don't cha'? Just as long as you get back home to me, safe and snug."

"Wait, wait, wait. "Back home," infers that we have the same home. Which we do not. Ol' J'inn ain't been hogtied yet!"

"Well, where to you think I am right now?" Doomee said.

"Your in my flat!" J'inn yelled. "How did you get past the security protocols?"

"Mrs. Gook got them from Gook while he was hanging wall paper over the weekend, honey." Doomee said in her bubbly voice. "Besides, I just want to help my honey bunny out. You've got sooo much junk here. I've just cleaned out a few things."

"What!!" J'inn screamed for what seemed like the tenth time this morning. "Don't touch anything of mine. Please, some of that stuff is important AND classified." J'inn's car swerved dangerously on the road and he received several digital salutes from other motorists.

"Oh come now, honey, you don't need 15 years worth of Playcat magazines. You got me now." She giggled. "And that whole mess of stupid Terran football trading cards. They were so old and musty I tossed those out. Some of those were like 300 years old. I'll get you some nice new ones, baby."

"OMG they were worth millions. Who said you could touch my stuff!" J'inn whimpered.

"Well I tried to call you at your office but they said you had just left, so I tried to leave a message for you at the Officers' Club and this nice Lyran gentleman told me that you had told him that you wanted me to clean out your smelly old flat. He was soooo nice. Not like a certain ungrateful fiancee I know. Well I gotta go see what's in the garage. All those old smelly Terran automobiles cluttering up the place. Where to you expect me to put all my clothes when we're married? Oh, and another thing, you still have NOT arranged the actual date. We really need to talk about that. Are you busy now?"

J'inn nearly had a stroke. If he went home he could save his stuff. However, the price would be getting cornered into a wedding date. No, nothing is worth that he decided. And so with a tear in his eye and the hope that he could hunt down his things when he returned he told Doomee that the Hydran situation was an emergency and that no, shnookums, he'd have to wait and talk when he returned.

"Kzinbane again!" J'inn screamed within his car. He then decided to forego the Piggly Wiggly due to the fact that dead Lyrans don't need CatNip. Making a bootleg right hand turn off of the main roadway, he gunned the engine and speed toward the Officers' Club. Someone would pay for this!

Upon arriving at the Club he noted that the lot was empty except for M'Ress' ground transport. Upon approaching the building his sharp hearing picked up loud music from within. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear that was Bob Marley." J'inn thought as he opened the door.

As the door opened a cloud of blue/gray smoke billowed forth along with the blasting sound reggae music. "Computer, music off, ventilation to maximum!" J'inn ordered. The music stopped and the air cleared. And there, lying on a large pillow was the mighty Captain M'Ress.

J'inn ran over to him and shook him awake. The smell of burning CatNip was still strong.

"Hey mon! Whatcha bothering me for." M'Ress said groggily.

J'inn fetched a medical tri-corder which revealed the worse. Acute CatNip poisoning. Thankfully, M'Ress had not been exposed past the terminal point. He would suffer from a noted personality change for months. A change that was already apparent. For the normally ultra professional warrior seemed somehow different. There was this odd beret that he wore low and across one eye. And apparently, the loud reggae music had caused his CatNip addled mind to identify with the ancient Terran Rastifarians. He would be like this for weeks, if not permanently.

"Where is Kzinbane? J'inn growled.

"J'inn my brother. That Kzinbane cat, he be one partyin' dude. He said after all that beer -n-CatNip that he wanted to go score some Mirak babes. BTW, is it still mornin' mon?" M'Ress asked. And after J'inn told him it was 11:45 a.m. M'Ress smiled and said. "Well there is still time to wake-n-bake mon." He then reached for the CatNip hookah which J'inn slapped from his hand. M'Ress, thankfully, passed out.

"Great, now I need another Captain for sure." He thought. "Damn that Kzinbane!" He then ran over to a data terminal and looked for responses to his e-mail inquiry. "Yup, they'll all want to take me. J'inn thought. "They love me. It'll be hard to pick which one." He then read the responses.

KAT-Gook

Errrr, geee J'inn. I'm a little busy right now.

KAT-Mako

After that stunt you pulled with the silo doors on my ship. Your crazy!

KAT-Speaker

Hah! I like being alive. No way!

KAT-Jefe

No way!

KAT-Species

Well, I would but my ship, the MCS Stimpy, is in dry dock. Yeah that's the ticket.

KAT-Hades

Not no, but hell no!

KAT-Fur-ocious

Your kidding. Right!

KAT-SilentMantis

Buzz off!

J'inn then thumbed through the rest of his messages. Not a one of the KATs had volunteered for the mission. J'inn slammed off the terminal, looked at M'Ress, and made a decision. He'd just have to get M'Ress sobered up enough to command. Hey, if J'inn could to it, anyone could.

He noticed his favorite Lazy-Boy recliner. It was in tatters. Kzinbane!! He then removed all of the hookahs from the building, locked M'Ress inside, and took off in search of a certain Lyran weasel. It would take a while for M'Ress to detoxify. J'inn, therefore, had a day or two to kill. Literally.

[This message has been edited by J'inn (edited 12-14-2001).]

Gook · « **Reply #5 on:** October 15, 2004, 02:46:58 pm »

Squiggy
Ensign posted 12-14-2001 03:50 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To: J'inn
From: Squiggy
Subject: Need a hand?
Dear J'inn,

I have received your email in error. I believe you may have one of a thousand Outlook viruses. After reinstalling my OS, I was able to read your message.

It seems that you need a captain to keep you from getting killed. I need to find out just what Socky is up to. Perhaps we can help each other out.

I may not be the best pilot you can find, but I have yet to fly my ship into large immovable objects in space. That alone should increase your chance of survival tenfold.

The offer is up to you.

Squiggy

IP: Logged

Hondo_8
Ensign posted 12-14-2001 04:09 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alarms blare through out the Dome of Logic as people rush to dispel the flames and aid the injured. Most of the Vulcans lie in a stupor having been bombarded by polka music, and their brethren that still stand murmur amongst themselves.
?Thrain?. Bach?. are you two alright?? Captain Jeff struggles to his feet ambling through the smoke to where his two comrades were sitting. ?Thrain! Bach! Speak up this smoke is to dense to se through? A loud scraping can be heard in front of Captain Jeff along with several strands of curses well articulated. ? Jeff we are here though I fear Thrain took a rather nasty cut to his head. Get a medic,? yells out Bach his voice chocking on the fumes.

Moments later a team of Vulcan medics appear by Thrain?s side administering to his cut. ? Bach prepare your fleet for action? Captain Jeff instructs ? This has romulan written all over it only they would know what devastation Polka music would bring to our Vulcan allies I fear that those who were closet will never regain logic again.? Bach shakes his head in frustration, knowing that the Vulcan?s prize logic over all and to be bombarded by polka was like stealing candy from a baby. You just did not do it. ? Yes Sir I shall prepare the FPF for action and await your orders to move out? Bach looks back down at a scowling Thrain. ? Dam it Dam it?. Hondo that bastard he did this not the Romulans he is the one who transported that Hydra thing down!? Thrain squeezes his hands into fist to try to control his rage. ?Thrain Hondo is a Federation Captain and member of the FPF he would not do something like this?. I know he is nuts but this? Captain Jeff waves his hands pointing out all the destruction that was done?many inert bodies lying in growing pools of blood?. the Blood of Gorn, Lyran, and Federation joining in one large pool. ?He is not capable of this Thrain?I mean if it wasn?t for Velcro he could never tie his own boots.? Bach nods in agreement? Thrain, Hondo is a decent Captain and has the Federation first among his priorities beside the thought that went into this attack is beyond his simple mind.? Thrain struggles to sit as he shakes off the Vulcan attendants. ? Aye your probably right but we still need to get him to find figure out what happened and how that hydran got onto his ship and beamed off his ship with out setting off alarms. Knowing Hondo he probably thinks his red alert signal is just his reminder for Happy Hour.? Thrain grins to himself ? Jeff let me go get him and let me conduct the investigation, I?ve worked with Hondo before and I can put up with his insanity.? Captain Jeff nods his approval and then looks about quickly ? Where is the lyran diplomat Likkerpig?? Bach and Thrain scan the room spotting the Lyran crouching behind an upturned table with his weapons out and a crazed battle lust in his eyes. Two Vulcan aides being the Lyran?s target as they try to render aid for the battle frenzied Lyrian. Bach looks to Thrain then Jeff as his words are whispered.
? What about him he was on the ship perhaps he can tell us something?? Thrain rises to his feet and tells the both of them ? Ill speak to him as soon as the Vulcans can get him under control.?

Five hours later aboard the starship USS Jessie James, Captain Thrain and Captain Likkerpig sits in the captains quarters discussing the past days events.

?He had a slip in slide set up on his bridge Thrain, and he used what he named a Mud Slide to make it slippery, Hondo slid first, by the way is tropical Island shorts Starfleet issue?? Thrain shakes his head and monitions for the Lyran to continue. ?Well after a few slides I was feeling a little loopy. Hondo said it was the Mudslide that gave that pleasant effect. The Hydran diplomat seemed to be unaffected by this effect though it seemed he quiet enjoyed himself. Though with them it is hard to tell. Well after awhile Hondo said it was bedtime and that story time would be in an hour. I looked at him funny. But I had been briefed that the Human?s cheese had slid off his cracker as you earthlings say. Well I retired to my quarters and prepared for bed when Hondo?s voice spoke over the intercom?. the first story was about a gingerbread man and how you could not catch him, and his second story was a song about Old McDonald had a farm Ei Ei O?by this time I was fast a sleep and when I awoke it was time to beam over to Vulcan.? Thrain leaned back in his chair nodding ? Thank you Likkerpig I have word that your ship is ready to beam you aboard.? Likkerpig stood up and left Thrain to dark thoughts. ? Ensign start hailing all freighters around the alpha quadrant begin with those closet to Vulcan and find out if they have any unuassly encounters with Federation Heavy Cruisers, Thrain out?

Some where in the alpha quadrant the starship USS Love Machine arms another round of Beast Ice cans in there torpedo tubes to launch at an already annoyed freighter captain. ?Fire? Cackles captain Hondo from his Hot tub as his nurse scrubs his back.

IP: Logged

J'inn
Ensign posted 12-14-2001 08:37 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

quote:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Originally posted by Squiggy:
To: J'inn
From: Squiggy
Subject: Need a hand?
Dear J'inn,

I have received your email in error. I believe you may have one of a thousand Outlook viruses. After reinstalling my OS, I was able to read your message.

It seems that you need a captain to keep you from getting killed. I need to find out just what Socky is up to. Perhaps we can help each other out.

I may not be the best pilot you can find, but I have yet to fly my ship into large immovable objects in space. That alone should increase your chance of survival tenfold.

The offer is up to you.

Squiggy

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alright you had me there a second with the e-mail virus thing. I thought "OH NO!!" Then I relized 1) I don't use Outlook and 2) I don't even have your e-mail address.

I could take your offer any one of three or even four ways. Please drop me a line.

IP: Logged

Squiggy
Ensign posted 12-14-2001 11:23 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dude! I have my dad's D5K all gassed up and ready to go. Throw M'Ress in the back and use the painstick to sober him up.
IP: Logged

Vandemar Croup
Ensign posted 12-15-2001 12:09 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

quote:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Originally posted by J'inn:
Two days earlier . . .
"Dammit, how does that reptile always seem to know when I'm bluffing!" He fummed to no one in particular.

[This message has been edited by J'inn (edited 12-14-2001).]

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Uh, Jinn, don't tell him I told you, but when you bluff, your tail twitches like crazy...

------------------
Slowly, the grin faded till there was nothing left but cat.

IP: Logged

Julin Eurthyr
Ensign posted 12-15-2001 12:59 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Flag Ready Room, ISCS Little Paradise
"Damn intel reports, Sometimes I hate all this bull****." Julin Eurthyr screams out loud, in the privacy of his ready room. He uses his telepathic link to access the feelings of his nominally 3rd shift body, which right now is getting seriously drunk. Sometimes, being a quad-linked telepath with 4 separate bodies is an advantage, for the Julin in the ready room could enjoy the feeling of the buzz his other body enjoyed, without feeling any detrimental effects.
Having been mentally refreshed by the short "break" he took telepathically, Julin stares once again at the data unit containing the recent intel reports.
Project "Pacification Chow" failed in both phases one and two. The oreo and twinkie delivery methods were now comprimised, and of no use to the ISC. Meanwhile, there are new, interesting developments to the safety, and peace of the galaxy. There are rumblings of Romulan activity, including a "polka bomb" assault on Vulcan, and something else afoot in Hydran space.
Noting with glee the usual responses of the famed intelligence community, in near graphic detail, the time for further activity comes.
A quick check of the chronometer, however, shows that maybe this is not the time for the Echelon to engage in "diplomatic" endeavors, for one of the fleet's traditions, the other reason Julin's group was called the "Jello Echelon" was scheduled to occur within 20 minutes. Recalling that "close friends" of his were going to engage in a rare Veltrassi championship bout, Julin prepares to watch the festivities.
You see, Julin's DN, the ISCS Little Paradise was one of the rare vessels containing a number of Veltrassi Quad-links. The Concordian race that is born in quadruplets, usually identical, each quadurplet set shares an intense telepathic link that is capable of stretching close to 25 km, naturally. Of course, using the miracle of "ability to select his own crew", Julin's wife, another Veltrassi Quad-link, is stationed aboard the LP also. The enlarged Admiral's Quarters was quite useful, especially on those rare nights that all 8 bodies got together... Telepathy in those instances can be wonderful...
And, the fact that she's on the LP helps keep Julin in line, especially at such occasions as this:
Recreation deck, subsection "J",ISCS Little Paradise
The weekly tradition is about to commence, specifically the finals of the current season of "Jello Wrestling". What makes this contest so interesting is that, as a rarity, both finalists are Veltrassi, considered one of the physically weaker races in the Concordium. Now, part of the reason these particular quad-links won was the fact they are both intel operatives, one assigned to Miraki intel section, and the other assigned to the Lyran side. They have used techniques learned from their respective studies, and have won a number of fights based on "other factors", for some reason they fought their toughest opponents on a monthly schedule. Julin has taken a liking to the officer from Miraki intel, however, with his wife nearby, he must hide that fact from her, and thusly, the crew. It would not seem fair if he rooted for one player, being the commander of the Echelon.

------------------
Julin Eurthyr, Admiral
Commander, 673rd Echelon
Commander, ISCS Little Paradise

"It's the suede denim secret police. They've come for your uncool niece."
Last words heard from the hru'hfe at the beginning of a Tal'shiar raid of the house

Gook · « **Reply #6 on:** October 15, 2004, 02:48:14 pm »

Scipio_66
Ensign posted 12-15-2001 02:50 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[At the Poker game J?inn unveils plots within plots behind the talk of Hydran revolution. Fearing the disolution of the Grand Alliance, S?Cipio determines he must act to protect the Confederacy from future wars and rushes home.
There are rumors that he makes a stopover to destroy an asteroid-based publishing company, but these rumors are unconfirmed. And they will remain that way if all witnesses know what is good for them.]

Lord Admiral S?Cipio -- Director of Gorn Naval Intelligence, Knight of the Order of Wyyvern, Hero of the Day of Despair, Architect of the Circle of Iron, Protector of the Inner Marches, Commander of the Terminus Est, and ex-Chancellor of the Government in Exile ? strode ominously towards the Grand Chamber with an air that let the world know he was a Gorn not to be trifled with. Inside the inner lobbey Lord Admiral Warlock brought him up short with a raised finger while glancing up from morning Chocodilles.

S?Cipio fumed inwardly, but could only stand and watch while Warlock finished his crossword. "Sssorry," the senior admiral stated after finding a five letter word for ?patroling in pairs?, "but Chancssellor Joltvee isss in conferencsse." Suspicion creased his browplate. "And you are not on the itinerary."

"I must see the Chancsselor at the earliessst possssssibility," replied S?Cipio, turning his torso so that the overly large medallion of the Order of Wyyvern caught the light. Wearing the medal had been a risk. It was Warlock himself who had nominated S?Cipio for this highest of Gorn military honors, but whether wearing the medal would serve to remind the Admiralty that S?Cipio was owed a debt of gratitude ? or simply convince them he was an officer too valuable to allow to leave the Tri Star ? was an outcome yet undecided. Listening to his friends prattle on at J?inns poker game, however, had left S?Cipio with the opinion that he could no longer sit idly by while the Grand Alliance shattered. Wearing the medal was a gamble he had to make.

Apparently gratitude won out with Warlock. He tossed a permissive gesture over his shoulder as he turned back to the crossword. "As soon as the Federation envoy leaves, then," he allowed. S?Cipio nodded his own gratitude and tried to restore his air of eminence.

Presently, Capt Jeff exited the Chancellor?s office and gave S?Cipio a respectful salute. "Good to see you again, Admiral," he stated as he left.

"And you, Fleetlord."

"Nasty business, those Hydrans. Looks like dark days ahead of us again." The gorn returned the salute. More than you know, and not if I can help it, respectively, S?Cipio thought to himself as he enterred the chancellor?s office.

The sight of Joltvee was still a shock, even to those who knew his condtion. His now loose skin hung on a weakened frame and the edges of his scales were still purple. The ISC had infected him with a gentically enhanced virus as a part of the last war; a devious plot to cripple the Gorn command strucure. The plan had backfired when Joltvee had refused to succomb, piloted his own starship despite his illness, and inspired all Gorn captains to feats of heroism.

Joltvee was now recovering, but the sight of S?Cipio seemed likely to bring on a relapse. The prominently displayed Order of Wyyvern didn?t seem to make him any happier. He stood in greeting. "I?ve ssseen your requessst, Admiral, and I must sssay I was surprisssed. When we offered you your choice of assignmentsss, the admiralty rather expected you to accept a staff posssition. Promotion to Fleetlord would be only a matter of time. A very ssshort time. Sssenator S?Cipio could sssoon follow"

The Chancellor offered a choice of traditional hospitality sweets from a silver platter. S?Cipio of course chose a Chocodille. From the apparent age of all the other sweets on the tray, everyone else was making the same choice. "Inssstead you asssk to be given charge of our mission ssstation on Klinshai. Despite its statusss as Sssecond Capital World, Klinshai hasss become the biggessst armpit in the Klingon Empire sssince the Next Generation Uprising."

Joltvee took a Chocodille for himself, but only nibbled. His appetite was off since the infection. "Why do you not wisssh to enjoy the fruitsss of a hard won peace?"

S?Cipio pointed to a bright star visible through Joltvee?s window. It was one of six ringing Ghdar, a massive starbase within the Ring of Steel, but was a slightly different shade than the other five. It was also nominally under the command of KAT Jefe. This Mirak occupation of Steel 3 had saved Ghdar from planetary bombardment during the high-water mark of the Klingon invasion. "Do you sssee that?" he demanded. "That isss what comesss from expecting peace to last."

"You would lead usss into a new war, then?" accused Joltvee. S?Cipio brushed this aside with a dismissive gesture.

"We are Gorn. We are territorial to a fault, but we are the only great power within the known galaxy who hasss never luanched an offensssive war. The ISC underssstand nothing of true peace. They would have done better to come to usss with hat in hand and a petition for Confederation memberssship rather than an invasssion fleet."

"What will you do on Klinshai then? Weaponsss inssspection? That isss a job for a lessss senior officer. And I would have expected you to choose Q ?onos."

S?Cipio hissed his displeasure at the Klingon empire. "What right do the Klingons have to an honorable peace? Why should we jussst let them walk away? ?Oh, our ISC alliesss quit, ssso we will too,? they say. And not so much as an apology or offer of reparationsss!"

Joltvee countered, reaching for a Twinkie to reassert his authority over the room. "Future relationsss with the Klingon Empire isss a decisssion for the Senate to make. The war isss over. We are negotiating for reparations. While not happy about it, the Q?onos government has agreed to allow teamsss of inspectors into Klingon space. What else do you ssseek?"

"Our pacssifist Senate keepssss our navy weak. For usss to survive, our enemies mussst be weaker. Unrest on Klinshai is the weaknesss of the Klingon Empire. I intend to ussse it to rip them apart." S?Cipio demonstrated his intent upon an Oreo cookie. Given the recent crises caused by these cookies, he hoped his latest choice of sweet made him look invincible.

"And what of our clossser enemies, the Romulanssss?" Not to be outdone, Joltvee reached for a Hydrox with arrogant flair. His nervous tummy warned him of impending results, but he would show no weakness in front of S?Cipio. He was not expecting the reply he received.

"Do you recall the lassst day of the Klingon invasion? When all looked darkest, when our lines were crumbling, when not even our Miraki and Federation allies could stem the tide, the Romulansss came. They did not even need to be asked. ?I will help you,? an unknown captain sent to me. ?Where am I needed?? No termssss, no conditonsss, no thought for his own death. Just a straightforward offer. ?I will help you. Where am I needed??"

S?Cipio found that Scotch mixed badly with Oreos, but the pause to drink still gave punctuation to his comments.

"The ISC achieved their goal, but not in the way they expected. I will never hate another Romulan again."

"That at least isss a peaceful attitude," allowed Joltvee. "Though one you should be careful expresssing in public." The chancellor wanted to continue the arguement, but his weakened stomach refused to allow him to reach for another Hydrox. He would have to concede the sweets match to S?Cipio. There was also really no argueing with the Order of Wyyvern hanging on the admiral?s chest. "Very well then, your requessst is granted. You are hereby named Chief of Station at Klinshai. You may proceed there as soon as Terminus Est is prepared to break orbit."

S?Cipio stood and saluted. Joltvee watched him leave the outer lobbey before reaching for medications. Pepto mixed with Hydrox no better than did Scotch with Oreos, but it was all Joltvee had to quiet his stomach. He hissed unpleasantly as the pink liquid took effect. S?Cipio had been a good officer, but the war had affected him badly. He would bear watching.

****

Meanwhile, in the secret depths of a SPQR sanctuary, the Triumvirate shushed their harddrive as it downloaded their latest HUMINT from Ghdar. They smiled as S?Cipio spoke the words, "I will never hate a Romulan again."

"Patch me through to our operatives on Klinshai," whispered Kremen. "I think we have our pigeon."

-S'Cipio

------------------
Neighbors said he was a quiet man, who kept mostly to himself.

[This message has been edited by Scipio_66 (edited 12-15-2001).]

IP: Logged

ZTempest
Ensign posted 12-15-2001 10:06 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Transporter beam shimmered as a figure slowly took shape. T'Rang watched as Captain Tempest strode off of the transporter pad.
Tempest was all business. "Where is the prisoner?

"This way, Sir!"

The Lyran's fur was matted and dirty, his eyes lackluster. Historically, Lyrans did not do well in captivity, same as Mirak.

Tempest grinned his most evil grin. "So...Lyran Dog. Are you going to talk?"

A spark of defiance glimmered deep in the Lyran's eyes. "No."

Tempest grinned wider. "Oh, I think you will." Then he casually pulled out a pair of Human Toenail Clippers!

The Lyran jumped up and sank his claws into the ceiling. "NO! NOT THAT! ANYTHING BUT THAT!!!!!!"

Tempest smiled again, evilly. "We are on the same sheet of music now, eh?"

The Lyran sobbed. "I'll tell you anything. ANYTHING! Just put those evil things away!"

Tempest casually put the device back into his uniform pocket and turned to T'Rang. "We won't need the vacuum cleaner after all, Captain." The Lyran started to tremble violently. "Or the wolf scent spray. Oh, and before I forget, please tell the Doctor we won't need the spading or declawing surgery computers, either."

"Aye Sir."

The Lyran was curled up in a fetal position on the floor. Tempest squatted down. "Do we understand each other, Cousin?"

Whimper. "Yes" Sob.

"Okay, now you are going to tell me what you were in Mirak space for, and then I am going to get you a nice warm saucer full of milk. How does that sound, eh?"

"Yes yes yes. We were scouting a route for our...."

"Yes.....????"

"MEOWWWWWWW...I can't do it! I can't!"

Tempest talked soothingly. "Sure you can. Nobody needs to know. You can tell Uncle Tempest anything you want, just between us, eh?"

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"It's a convoy. A very important convoy."

"Go on. What is in it? Military supplies? Troops?"

The Lyran leaned forward, a crazy glint in his eye. Tempest could tell he was close to breaking. "I wasn't supposed to know, you know, but I heard the First Officer and the Captain talking...." The Lyran paused dramatically, "Seven large freighters, full of..." his voice lowered to a whisper..."Yarn and Catnip!"

Tempest was stunned! "Seven large freighters? Yarn and Catnip?"

"yes yes yes...it's all true!"

Tempest slowly stood. A shipment that large could start a new Lyran-Mirak war!

"TR'ang, this prisoner is to be put back into his lifepod and let off near Klingon space. After you do that little chore I want you to meet me and the rest of the Patriarch's Guard Fleet at Starbase 12. We have a convoy to raid!"

"Aye Sir!"

Tempest hummed to himself as he transported back over to his Battlecruiser, the Hegemony BCH Tsunami. Things were about to be interesting....he had heard that the Ministry of Intelligence was working on something, but his own Fleet personnel had been bored silly lately.

A Catnip War was just the ticket!

to be continued.....

[This message has been edited by ZTempest (edited 12-15-2001).]

Gook · « **Reply #7 on:** October 15, 2004, 02:49:22 pm »

Drake
Ensign posted 12-15-2001 02:14 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'Is he ready', demanded Drake.
Yes, Admiral,'replied the Left-tenant [translation of lieutenant for our american readers]

'Good. Bring him here then leave us.'

The ISC captain was brought into the room. Drake stood as the captain was tied to the chair. The whisper of the enviormental suits was all that was hear. Drake said nothing until the Lefttenant left with the guards.

Drake activated his scanner and pressed a single button on his commlink. A transporter activated. Drake mosioned the hydran to say nothing. They waited.

'Good, the alarms did not sound procced,'Drake told the new arrival.

Five hours later...

'He is ours, admiral, complete success.'

'Excellent. He will remember nothing of this... Procedure.'

'No, Admiral, nothing.'

'Good. Excellent. Proceed with the other three ISC crew members.'

The following Day

Drake recieved a single tone from his commlink. Waering civilain clothes he got up and entered the transpoter in his office. The park appeared around him and he walked over to the fountain.

'Its is done,' said a hydran taking a photo.

'Good, we need more light for your photos,' Drake left. He transorted to a warhouse and signaled for admittence. The obscured figures open a small door.

'You have weapons you need?'drake asked.

'yes but not the transporter enhanser.'

'It will be in the bathroom. remove the ceiling tiles to get it. you can beam your whole team into the lu.' You must not kill any of your targets if you do then it is all for naught. Kill anyone else you desire.

Drake left. All was going according to plan.

------------------
Capt. Drake Lyran Slayer
Royal Hydran Navy
Royal Hydran Intelligence

[This message has been edited by Drake (edited 12-15-2001).]

IP: Logged

Delta One
Ensign posted 12-15-2001 06:12 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Captain Janus watched with some concern as the Mirak starhsip jerked through space in a haphazzard manner in front of him.
"Good Gods," he thought to himself. "The crazy Mirak must have overdosed on Catnip or something."

"Hail the Mirak vessel commander." said Janus.

The image on screen shocked him to the core. The bridge was a huge mess and wires sparked in an uncontrolable fashion all over the place.

"Hiya there Janus!" said a collection of white fur in front of him that obviously was the form of Captain J'inn. "I'm here now. What can I do you for?" The huge grin on the feline's face gained gasps from the bridge crew, but a mere shrug from Janus, who had seen a Mirak smile before.

"Well um.... Captain.... J'inn. We have a serious problem concerning the security of the Hydran Kingdom and......"

"Sure thing, Janus old pal!" answered the Mirak, "Just putting on the old oxygen helmet... oh oh looks like trouble..."

"Sir, the Mirak's vessels warp core has overloaded. It appears that a breach will occur in approximately.... 90 seconds sir."

"oooops looks like I'll have to beam on over to your ship now Janey. Now where are those one to beam over controls" said the big Mirak.

"But what about your crew Captain? We can't possibly get them all out in time." Janus asked.

"Oh crew? Yeah I didn't bring any. Everyone resigned on the spot when I asked them to come along so I had to fly the ship on my own."

"Oh YOUR OWN?!?!" Janus practically screamed.

"Ok now wheres the teleport button...'

"No no no we'll beam you over!" yelled Janus, "Don't touch that! Thats the missile firing controls!"

Janus and his crew watched in horror as 4 sleek missiles arched out from the Mirak cruiser and began their vicious approach towards the Hydran ship.

"Full power forward shields! Tractor beams!" Janus cried!

But he was slightly too late. The tractor beams managed to catch two of the missles but the second two impacted on the forward shields causing them to fail. Janus was thrown to the ground as the bridge rocked violently under the impact as the ship struggled to right itself.

"Ah I see your shields are down now Janey." The Mirak's nickname for him made Janus shudder and his bridge crew snicker. "You can just beam me on over now y'here?"

"30 seconds to warp core breach on the Mirak vessel sir." reported the science officer.

"Beam him over!" Janus seethed, "And get us out here now.... full impulse! Commander you have the bridge, I'm going to meet our.... guest in the transporter room."

As Janus stalked off the bridge, the viewscreen picked up the image of a rapidly expanding ball of light that had once been a Mirak starship. Somewhere back on the Mirak homeworld, the light that had signified the operational status of that ship exploded suddenly causing minor burns to the paws of the technician who was working the console at the time.

Meanwhile back on the RHA Star Runner, Janus steeled himself before the door to the transporter room. Taking several deep breaths to calm himself, he was unaware that the doors had in fact already opened and a huge Polar Mirak in a Oxygen Helmet had stepped through.

"Hey there Janey!" yelled the huge feline, slapping Janus so hard on the back that he fell to his knees. "Thanks for the rescue. Do you think we could go back, there might be some Cubans left in the wreckage and I've only got one left."

Picking himself up Janus muttered, "No! We have more important matters to discuss. If you'll follow me to my ready room."

"Sure thing, but I might light up this cigar first." said J'inn. "Mind if I smoke in here?"

With that the giant creature took off his oxygen helmet.

"No you fool are you mad.... what the hell are you doin... My Gods your not.... choking..." Janus spluttered.

A serious of beeps interrupted Janus' confusion and he responded, "Yes bridge what is it."

"Captain," said the voice of the science officer Bala, "I would advise caution with Captain J'inn sir. There appears to be something wrong with him."

"You're not kidding!" said Captain Janus watching aghast as the huge Mirak, appearing to be breathing comfortably in a methane atmosphere, patted down his jumpsuit looking for his last Cuban cigar.

"Well sir, it appears that the identification tag installed just beneath Captain J'inn's skin. The one that's used to identify him if he goes stray, it's missing." the communication channel chirped.

"Meaning...." realisation slowly gained on Captain Janus.

"I don't think thats Captain J'inn sir." the female tones of Commander Bala responded.

"Bala, seal of deck 9."

"But sir..." came the retort.

"Just do it!" snarled Janus.

"Yes captain! I'm not J'inn." spoke the image of the Mirak in front of the now terrified Hydran, "I am an assassination-bot. And now I am going to light this cigar... and we're going to have ourselves a little Hydran barbecue."

"An Emerald Edge brand Assassination Bot" gasped Janus. "Who sent you?" he demanded

As the robot brought the cigar and lighter up to it's lips, it continued to speak. "Yes, my master did request that you know who sent me before you died. And my master is....."

Janus watched in horror as the foul being attempted and failed to ignite the gold lighter imbossed with a giant catnip leaf.

"Dang, out of gas." said the robot, "You wouldn't happen have a light on you would you Janey?"

Janus shook his head numbly.

"No," the robot chuckled, "Of course you wouldn't. But no problem I have a match!"

The giant creature reached into it's pocket and pulled out a match. As it did so it spoke again, "Ah yes, my master, as I was saying.... my master is...."

The robot stopped. Janus quickly swotted away the match out of the foul being's hands and braced himself for a fight... but nothing happened.

The robot turned to him.

"I'm sorry. But my 30 day unlimited use free trial period has elapsed. Please contact http://www.emeraldedge.rom/ to get the registration code to reactivate this product."

With that the robot shut down leaving the usually jovial Hydran captain shaking like a leaf in the hallway.

Sometime later, Science Officer Bala and Captain Janus were discussing the J'inn robot.

"Sir, who sent this thing?" asked Bala

"I don't know Commander. Obviously someone cheap thats for sure." snickered Janus.

"Should we dispose of the creature, sir?"

"No, I'll give it to Captain J'inn when he really does arrive. He might find it useful. He might be able to fake his own death with it, get away from that fiance of his...." Janus laughed out loud again.

"I don't think Mrs Sockfoot would approve of that sir. I wouldn't want to have to tell her about this little indiscretion." Bala's tone went cold.

"Errr, no." said Janus, "We errr... wouldn't want that. But we'll give the robot to J'inn anyway, he has every right to see it considering it's of him."

"Yes sir. Now if you'll excuse me I'm due in the science labs in ten minutes."

"Of course Commander, dismissed."

As Bala left the ready room, Janus sat on his captains couch and started thinking. Who had let the conspirators on to his knowing about the plot? One of the crew perhaps? But who, who?

Not realising how tired he was, Janus soon fell into a restless sleep. In it he dreamed of giant grinning Mirak, marching Romulan legions and pink Klingon warships commanded by a furious she-captain with a giant frying skillet.

[This message has been edited by Delta One (edited 12-15-2001).]

[This message has been edited by Delta One (edited 12-15-2001).]

Gook · « **Reply #8 on:** October 15, 2004, 02:50:10 pm »

Kzinbane2
Ensign posted 12-15-2001 08:21 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
?My dear? Kzinbane gasped, ?Could you be so kind as to get me another scotch?? The lovely and scantily clad Mirak female on Kzinbane?s lap turned and kissed Kzinbane again ?of course, I will be happy to!? she answered, standing and sauntering slowly toward the back-room bar of the GatoGrande.
Kzinbane leapt to his feet and stretched wildly, the feeling slowly returning to his legs. Miraki females were HUGE and seemed to forever enjoy the smaller Lyran?s lap as a seating place. Breathing was difficult enough, add to that the legs falling asleep and Kzinbane was having second thoughts about going out on the town!

The novelty of a Lyran male free to walk on Mraa was new to all. Kzinbane, used to being courteous and respectful of females had no idea that such behavior was not something the ladies were used to.

Miraki males were known for their disdain for the fairer sex. It was therefore much to Kzinbane?s surprise that he was attracting a crowd of females all vying for his attention. Kora soon returned with his drink, and Kzinbane wisely remained standing. She looked him up and down appraisingly and purred deep in her throat.

?I was wondering if you would like to come see a Mirak house?? Kora whispered bending to meet Kzinbane?s ear. ?I?m sure you must be curious about Mirak domestic life and I would just looooove to assist you in your study of our culture!? Kzinbane belted down his drink and coughed loudly.

?I would be most honored to see your humble abode my dear.? he whispered softly back noting the deep resonant purr from Kora doubled in intensity. These Mirak females he thought, they seem to so adore that sort of trash talk! Kora picked up Kzinbane and swung him around twice before putting him, somewhat flustered, back on his feet.

The other females in the bar glared at her and several huge male?s (the bouncer?s Kzinbane guessed) took note also.

Kora turned and said loudly to the crowd ?My Lyran friend here has decided to be mine!?. Kzinbane started ?what?? Little did the Lyran know that by agreeing to follow her home he had inadvertently also agreed to be her mate. Before he could protest any further Kora scooped him up bodily and carrying the frazzled Lyran under one arm stalked out of the bar?.

The bouncers glared after them. As soon as Kzinbane had arrived the females had begun to ignore all the male Mirak in the bar. Indeed most of the patrons had left in disgust. Soon the females too began to depart, ?looking for other Lyran males? they said. There had to be more in town after all, and they each HAD to find one for their own!

The walk to Kora?s home was short. Kzinbane gasped for air as she put him down on her porch and unlocked the door. Inside the lights were on and soft music was playing. Kzinbane caught his breath and considered bolting but another Mirak female inside caught his eye.

?Kzinbane? Kora began pulling the Lyran inside the house ?I?d like to introduce my room-mate Darcelle?. Kzinbane bowed, as is Lyran custom. Kora continued, ?she is the daughter of the Patriarch himself!? Darcelle stood looking at Kzinbane appraisingly ?Darcelle, this is Baron Kzinbane, first cat of the Lyran imperial fleet on detatched duty here for the next few weeks?. A smile crept onto Darcelle?s face ? even as the Patriarchs daughter she had never had a male EVER bow to her before! ?Welcome to our home? could I get you an ale?? ?Just show me where it is my lady, I would not impose upon you?! Darcelle motioned toward the kitchen and exchanged looks with Kora as Kzinbane headed for the refrigerator.

?I hope you will share? whispered Darcelle softly. Kora smiled, canine teeth gleaming ?of course I will?! Kzinbane was oblivious to all that was happening behind him as he looked through the excellent selection of beverages. He chose an Anchor steam finally and turned noticing the lights in the room had softened.

The bottle fell from suddenly nerveless hands and shattered ?oh my stars? whispered Kzinbane, his mouth falling open at the sight he beheld. A smile leapt to his lips and he walked slowly forward, the bottle and ale forgotten.

RPoff: Note - for those that may be concerned where this is going don't be. I'll keep it clean (well, OK - slightly scuffed)! Kzinbane

[This message has been edited by Kzinbane2 (edited 12-15-2001).]

IP: Logged

Ole
Ensign posted 12-16-2001 12:46 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ole stared in horror at the Mirak on his comm screen. M'Ress had for years been one of his most reliable contacts within the Mirak. A handful of cigars ,the right brand of beer, listen to a few war stories and presto, you could find out anything. But this... who could have done this to a respected war captain? Ole cut the contact impatiently, there was noone out there that could answer the questions he had. He had spent the better part of a morning in his ready room trying to gather a little information. He had discovered all sorts of interesting trivia (the Klingon ambassador to the ISC had been very naughty...) and followed up on several ongoing projects, but he hadn't been able to get any closer to the Romulans Connection. He knew it was out there, he just needed to look harder. In the meantime, they still followed the plasma trail.
Space. A darkness beyond night. Distances beyond measure. Eons of unchanging time.
An escape capsule, slowly spinning...

ChrisLee enjoyed the slowly fading glow of the expanding plasma on the main bridge veiwscreen. That upstart LordSaxon had mouthed off to the wrong Hydran once too many. It had been a quiet cruise so far, showing the flag along the Hydran Border Marches, and a little action helped blood the crew. He turned to his first officer, "Set crew for the rescue detail, pick up any life pods and then get us back Home." He had a date with a tall cold one to celebrate, besides he had to check in with his boss. Ole had given him orders to act normally, but to STAY IN TOUCH. ChrisLee yawned, what could possibly happen around here?

<Foreshadowing, the mark of fine literature everywhere. Remember, you read it first here.>

The flames had begun to pick up. Captain Doppler stood in what had once been the main square of the attacked outpost. Every direction, destruction and ruin met his eyes. His away team was combing the ruins for additional evidence and survivors. Doppler shook his head in puzzlement. What could have happened here? In the background he could hear muffled explosions coming from the power plant. As best as they could tell, raiders had come and leveled a peaceful agricultural colony just like any pirate would have. But noone landed after the defensive systems were knocked out, in fact, nothing had even been taken. It seemed that there had been no reason for any of this except for the pleasure of pure destruction. He needed some answers and he needed them now, there was something odd going on. The bump on the back of his head itched as it only did when something out of the Book appeared. The pieces just didn't fit right.

[This message has been edited by Ole (edited 12-16-2001).]

IP: Logged

Drake
Ensign posted 12-16-2001 01:21 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'Want a report of every candidate for the royal guards in the past 10 years that fail to be admitted due to security chech failures.'
'At once admiral' The midshipman mad for the door.

'oh and on another file give all the washouts that were not washed for perminet injury of Death. That is all'

------------------
Capt. Drake Lyran Slayer
Royal Hydran Navy
Royal Hydran Intelligence

News: