Topic: "What happened Next" Pt 4

[Gook]

J'inn
Ensign   posted 12-23-2001 06:23 PM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
BEST BUDS 7 of 8

Aboard the Week Slayer, K'arbin was one happy camper. He had just received a report from his Tactical Officer that both J'inn and Kzinbane were alive on a Lyran escape pod and the pod was damaged. The Week Slayer was now performing the duty of picking up life pods that had escaped the field (many had been destroyed by errant rocks) and interrogating Lyran prisoners.

K'arbin, wisely, decided to leave J'inn and Kzinbane right where they were. Tactical reports had indicated that their course would not intersect with any asteroids and they were obviously not going anywhere. I'll just advise the fleet where to pick them up and be on my way to help out M'Ress without that bothersome cat on my ship.

And so it was done, and within the hour, appropriate repairs had been completed and the Week Slayer speed off towards Starbase 12. Of course, K'arbin could not know that M'Ress was no longer there. Only a large complement of very peaceful Miraks.

J'inn awoke to a pounding headache and a pain in his wrists. He opened his eyes to find himself tied firmly to the bulkhead within a Lyran escape pod and with, much to his shock, Kzinbane! "Why me?" J'inn moaned.

"Cause yer a pain in the arse!" Kzinbane yelled. "Why is it that you always show up when it is least expected or wanted?"

"Why am I still alive?" J'inn moaned again while testing the strength of his bonds. They were quiet strong. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Because I might need a little insurance. Besides, for some sick and twisted reason, I kinda like bothering you."

"Oh joy." J'inn sad sarcastically. "Well what's our status?"

"Shield up, finally, life support good, propulsion, minimal. We are in the middle of an asteroid field but I think our vector is safe. I have sent out a coded distress call, but we are still far from the border. I do not know if a Lyran ship will be able to get to us."

"What no help form the Lyrans? Oh that is just plain horrible." J'inn said while snickering.

"Shaddup! Or I'll shut you up!" Kzinbane said while waiving his disruptor menacingly. J'inn just smiled.


IP: Logged
 
J'inn
Ensign   posted 12-23-2001 06:24 PM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN OFFER THEY COULD NOT REFUSE 8 of 8
A few hours later J'inn was happily snoring away while Kzinbane was catching a quick cat nap. They were both rudely awakened by the proximity alarm. Kzinbane jumped up and consulted his display. "What is it?" J'inn asked. "Or should I say, who is it?"

"Hmmm" Kzinbane started. "There is a large warship entering the field. Classification unknown. It is on an intercept course. We should be able to see it . . . . Oh no."

"What, what! I can't see from down here!" J'inn yelled.

What Kzinbane saw coming around from the far side of a large asteroid was not a Lyran ship or a Miraki ship. It was a large ship. At least a heavy cruiser class. It's make was unknown to him, but what was was the emblem on its hull. The design of a black hawk over which the words "MURDER, INC." was stamped. Beneath which was the ship's name. "The Enforcer"

"Pirates!" Kzinbane gasped just as a type III phaser blast rocked the pod and dropped its shield.

"Why me?" J'inn yelled as the transporter whisked him and Kzinbane away.

The burly Orions pushed both J'inn and Kzinbane into an ultra plush office on The Enforcer using the muzzles of their phaser rifles. Within the room was an office that put J'inn's to shame. Leather, check. Walnut, check. Humidor, check. Wet bar, check. Expensive antiques, check. Gorgeous babe mixing drinks, check.

At the main desk sat a human male who was about 60 years old and was impeccably dressed. "I like this guy already." J'inn thought.

"Gentlemen, have a seat," the man stated, while pointing to the two guest chairs in front of the desk. they did and the Orion goons each took a position behind them and rested the muzzle of their weapons against the back of J'inn and Kzinbane's necks. "Well, well, well, if it ain't the bad boys of M'Raa. Boy am I ta see youse guys. That Patriarch sure made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Heh. That's usually my job.

"Anyway, he says, Al youse find old Kzinbane and J'inn and get them on the horn with me and I'll make it worth yer while. So I sez, lets see the moola. And he shows me tha' moola alright. Holy Schmoly! 100,000 credits up front and he even buys a ship from me. I gotz ta respect that kinda juice, ya know whadda I mean? So, I really appreciate it an all how youse guys just wrapped yourselves up so nice an neat for me here. You show respect. I like that."

J'inn started to say something when he felt the muzzle push harder into the back of his neck. "Hey, I do tha talkin' here. Capice? You mooks do tha listening. Speaking of which, I know someone who wants to have some face time with youse guys."

With that the man who was obviously the cartel Kingpin pushed a button on his desk and a large screen on the wall to the left came alive. "I see you have them." The frowning Mirak said. It was the Patriarch!

J'inn started to say something again and this time received a strong blow to the head from a rifle barrel. He winced in pain as Brezgonne smiled and said, "I have to hand it to you Al, you're the only man I know who has ever gotten J'inn to shut his mouth."

"Hey, Brez, ya just gotta know the right, shall we say, inducement." And then everyone but J'inn and Kzinbane laughed.

"Okay, lets see, I invite Kzinbane and the Lyrans to M'Raa to see if we can work together in a lasting peace, and what happens? Chaos, that's what. The females are in an uproar and the political controversy regarding you and my adopted daughter is giving my media relations team a real headache. By the way, if you had impregnated her. You would be dead right now." Both Kzinbane and J'inn breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh and let's not forget my Minister of Information. Yes, the one who doesn't seem to understand the meaning of the word information since it is clear that he cannot tell me anything. Thinks he can burn down my favorite officers club with talking about it first. Thinks he can grab my warships whenever he damn well pleases. Even worse that he never seems to return them in one piece. Oh yes, Mister Super Sleuth!

"Well did it ever occur to you J'inn that if I was really that mad that I would have had both of you killed on sight? No, obviously your not as smart as you like to think you are. The reason I ordered both of you captured was so I could talk to you without it appearing to the public that I condoned that wretched beast's," he pointed at Kzinbane, "disruption on M'RAA. The males are in a panic. All of the females are talking about how much fun they will have at the malls with their men. If I was seen with Kzinbane without my sword buried in his chest I'd be deposed. And rightfully so!

"Problem is, there is something far more important going on than this shopping crisis on M'Raa. The public cannot begin to grasp that however, given the terror the males current feel about the possible passage of the ESRA. The poor legislators, have received death threat from males, but each day they return to the Congress with bumps on their heads and mumbling something about the fear of frying pans. They may actually pass the damn thing! Being single, I don't get it, but they can't think straight right now.

"Therefore, they are unable to even begin to grasp the seriousness of the current intragalactic political situation." At this point the Patriarch brought J'inn and Kzinbane up to date on recent developments. "Look this effects both of our governments," Brezgonne said to Kzinbane. Kzinbane nodded in agreement. "I need you and J'inn to work together on this to figure out what the heck is going on."

"Oh no! I won't work with him!" They yelled in unison and received a smack upside the head in return.

"I didn't give you a choice. You either work together on this or I give the people what they want and kill Kzinbane." He then turned to J'inn "and then I'll preside personally over your wedding the very same day!" J'inn's eyes dilated in dread.

"So do we understand each other gentleman?" The great leader asked.

They both nodded.

"Al, please provide these nice men with that ship I purchased and a crew. Please also inform the crew to bring them directly to M'Raa if they try to avoid my orders in any manner."

"Certainly" the cartel Kingpin replied. "I must say, I like yer style."

Brezgonne smiled an elusive smile and stated, "You are to locate Gorn Intelligence head S'Cipio immediately and take things from there. The Gorn government has informed me that he is working on Klinshai and may have information that can help us. We are to work together on this. They were not thrilled with the idea of Kzinbane coming along, so be diplomatic. DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME! Brezgonne Out!"

Two hours later the Mirak fleet had received orders to assist J'inn and Kzinbane as much as possible and the bounty had been called off. An Orion spec. light cruiser was provided along with a crew. Kzinbane was happy to see an ESG on board. J'inn was happy with the six drone ranks and full complement of Type IV missiles with top of the line drive systems. This ship was armed to the teeth. The crew was made up of various races and was very professional in their own way. They reminded J'inn of Klingons somewhat. Work hard. Party hard.

"Helm, set course . . ." J'inn started to order.

"What do you think you are doing?" Kzinbane said. "If you think you are going to hold the Conn of this ship you are sadly mistaken."

"Screw you!" J'inn yelled. "This is a Miraki sanctioned mission. I'm in command."

"What so you can ram this ship into an asteroid?!"

"Why you little!" J'inn started to advance on Kzinbane's position. Kzinbane crouched into a battle stance. And then . . . the ships XO, a huge Nossican stood up and yelled.

"Kzinbane is in command of the ship. J'inn has command of the operation. Anyone have a problem with that?" The look on the Nossican's face said that he really hoped someone did.

"Fine." Kzinbane and J'inn both said together.

J'inn then took a position at a station and began to enter lines of code into the computer furiously, while mumbling something about not letting a stupid Lyran get him killed.

Kzinbane took the conn and ordered the mighty ship to head for Klingon space, at maximum warp. They had an appointment with a certain lizard to keep.




 

[Gook]

Brezgonne
Ensign   posted 12-23-2001 08:32 PM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Out of Character Stuff First:
For the last time. Kzinti females are quite sentient.That was an area that deviated from Niven. Kind of hard to be a ship officer if your not.

J'inn: You have a POL  since you have a very good chance to blow up any ship I give you it may as well be small 

Kzinti ambassadors are replaced on a regular basis. Particularly after the maimed, kill or eat an opposing ambassador after an extremely frustrating meeting.

Umm have you ever seen a tiger smile? To another feline I doubt it's out of the ordinary but to other races I doubt it's a terribly pleasant sight.

------------------------
In Character Part:

Brezgonne watched J'inn's image fade from the computer screen as he leaned back in his chair. With some luck the pair would be killed attempting to complete the fool's errand he had just sent them on. If they succeeded then he would have a better idea of the current situation and he could punish them in another manner.

Either way it was a win:win situation.

Brezgonne started to stand before he remembered something and reactivated the computer and began a note to the crew of the ship he had provided J'inn and Bane.

Note to FF-493:

Please inform J'inn and Kzintibane that they have no access codes to the escape pods. If They manage to destroy yet another of my ships they get to go up with the warp reactor.

Inform the crew that if Kzintibane or J'inn are seen attempting to board an escape pod for ANY reason they are to be shot on sight.

Patriarch out.

After ordering the computer to send the message to all the department heads on the ship he rose and headed out the door.

A short time later he arrived in a large room dominated by video displays and communications equipment.

Ignoring the few Kzinti already present he strides through the room to the opposite wall and, reaching for a control on the wall as well as a control on the panel on his left lower arm, a door appears and opens.

Brezgonne enters the door and, ignoring the thickness of the walls, comes to stand near a table where a small hooded form is seated. Looking down at this person he asks a question;

"Have your people finished installing the device on the Conqueror?"

The hooded figure nodded but remained silent.

"And the tracking device has been integrated into the FF-493's warp drive?"

Again the figure nodded.

"Very well. See that Conqueror is made ready to get under way. I thank you for your loyal service. You may go."

The hooded figure rose from where it was sitting, bowed to Brezgonne and departed the room still without saying a word. Once the mysterious figure had left he touched a control on his wrist device and a door slide open in one of the walls to reveal a single transporter pad. Quickly, Brezgonne stripped off his clothing and set it, as well as everything else he was carrying (save the wrist control unit), on the table. Once done he steps onto the transporter pad, taps a control on the wrist unit, and dematerializes.

************ Part 2
A moment later Brezgonne re-materializes in a small, reinforced chamber in a
remote part of the Kzintai's wilderness. Removing the wrist unit from his arm he
set it down in a small alcove and steps out of the transporter chamber in to the moist night air of the dense jungle that surrounds the small building.

Sniffing the air Brezgonne silently moves out into the jungle, the light of the moon(s) and stars reflecting ever so slightly off his dark fur. He goes some miles into the jungle before he detects the scent of what he has been searching for.

Slowly, silently, he begins following the tracks and the scent of his prey. The iris' of his azure feline eyes widening as he focuses on the tracks. his hearing sharpens and his ears start to twitch, moving to track the sounds around him.

As the scent grows stronger his pace quickens and his heart begins to beat faster. his ears both snap to the right as he hears the faint sound of foot steps moving through the underbrush. Silently he notes the direction of the wind and starts to circle his prey, moving so the wind will not reveal his presence.

Inch by inch, foot by foot, meter by meter, he moves closer and closer until he can at last see his prey.

He grins in satisfaction at the sight of the large, muscular, ape-like creature before him. It looked strong and well fed. Possibly strong enough to be an amusing challenge. With it's large hands it was picking fruits from a bush near the base of a large tree totally oblivious to the large Kzinti males presence.

Minutes passed as Brezgonne crept into range. Finally he was in position and with a snarl he burst forward sprinting right at the large ape.

Turning to face the sudden sounds the ape did not have time to run before the Kzinti Patriarch burst through the jungle foliage and leapt onto his prey with a fierce roar, his claws rending flesh and his fangs sinking deeply into the shoulder of the ape.

Howling in pain the ape struck at it's feline attacker knocking the Kzinti off but leavening a large hole in it's now useless right arm. The blood from the apes wounds flowed freely and in fact coated Brezgonne's arms and much of his face and chest. Slowly he circled his wounded prey, smelling it's panic as it's lifeblood flow from it.

With a growl the Kzinti surged towards the beast leaping into it and this time sinking his fangs into it's neck and biting down as strongly as he can. The ape staggers a few moments, gurgles and collapses to the ground, it's life ended by the loss of blood and the crushing grasp of the Kzinti's fangs on it's air pathway.

With a grunt the big cat releases his death hold and drags his prey off in the direction of a waterfall he knows of. An hour later he arrives and begins to feast on the carcass of the ape. Once he has eaten his fill he drags the remaining carcass to the edge of a village of primitive Kzinti and leave it where it will be found after the sunrise.

Slowly he creeps away from the village and returns to the pond he left a short time before to wash the blood and gore from his fur. The water around him runs red as the blood runs from his fur to mix with the water. Once the blood has run out he starts to swim and just tries to relax.

Before long he notices the sky begin to brighten and he knows he must return to the burrocracy and intrigue that his life entails.

Leaving the comfort of the pool, Brezgonne makes his way back to the transport building and returns to the life he must live.

Retrieving his clothes and possessions from the table he dresses himself and signals the ship in orbit to transport him up.

Once aboard the Conqueror he asks the science officer if the signal from the tracking device is being received clearly. Receiving a confirmation that it was he turns to the weapons station;

"Weapons; Engage the device. Helm; set and intercept course with the ship. Once it is within range begin shadowing the vessel."

Outside the ship the massive form of Conqueror fades until it finally vanishes from sight and sensors. The last thing that can be seen with either is the ship jump to warp in the direction of FF-493.....

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

I decided to make it a two part post.

I never said my In Game character was a nice guy.....

Kzintai is the proper name for the home planet. Not this Mirak rubbish.

PART 2:

Okay, if you had any doubt Kzinti are predators I hope the above cleared that up for you a bit. Kzinti are strict carnivores (aside from drugs and drinks I believe). It's nice stress relief as well since we're trying to play nice with the Lyrans and He can't go blow up a large number of their ships. If your curious about the clothes they smell like civilization. Far more then the person wearing them would. As far as the prey think gorilla.

I made up the primitive kzinti bit. Just consider it an effect of a massive nature preserve. And yes, I did get an intresting idea while i was writing this that involves that village.

[This message has been edited by Brezgonne (edited 12-23-2001).]

 

[Gook]

Hondo_8
Ensign   posted 12-23-2001 09:41 PM             
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Some where..........the USS Love Machine makes it preperations for the next phase of the plane.

"Beem up the cows ensingn" Captain Hondo grins, as he flicks on to give his next set of orders. " Make sure that you remove enough bulk heads and tear out enough walls so we have room for our next target.....its going to be Big boys and if your wife is on earth well they'll be pissed when they find just a huge parking lot and nothing else...Heheh"

The crew remoldaling the ship groan, not having a clue as to whats going on, but glad to be not shovling manure in the cargo holds now turned cow barn

IP: Logged
 
Julin Eurthyr
Ensign   posted 12-23-2001 10:28 PM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Flag Ready Room, ISCS Little Paradise
Julin is relaxing in his ready room, reading the specifications on the planned battleship, when his thoughts are interrupted by a mental shock.
Annlova takes the special direct turbolift from the Mirak Intelligence Office to the ready room. Entering Julin's office, carrying a padd, she's fuming. Stomping her way across the room to his desk, she scowls even more as she slams the padd down on his desk. "Why do these people do this to us?"
Julin lifts the padd off the desk, as he rubs her arm, "J'inn's found, by pirates? The Patriarch is sending them where? And what's this about 'equal shopping rights'? Don't they have any decency that they need an amendment to grant such a basic requirement?"
"I don't know hun. I just got this in, haven't had a chance to think about it yet."
Now, Julin leans back, and stares off into space. Annlova sits down on his lap. "Now what hun?" She asks.
"Pondering the situation. Does the latest strain of our pacification virus affect males as well as females?"
"Yes, love."
Julin starts to smile, a little. "Good. Then perhaps we can not only disable a whole operation, perhaps the entire Miraki race will be disabled. Between our CatNip and this..."
Frowning, Annlova moans "You'll put me out of work...", then she starts giggling, having felt a certain touch. "Hun, not that kind of work, you know I'll always be doing that..."
"I'll reassign you to another intelligence division. Don't worry, I'll keep you busy." Then he looks back down at the padd, "The Mirak will still be under control."
"We still have to watch out for the Kzinti strains."
"The Kzinti are just as suseptable to this as the Mirak, heck, some of those KAT people are involved in the Starbase 12 situation."
"So, the whole race will go down. And I'll be out of work."
Julin thinks to himself "not again", and proceeds to assure her that she'll have plenty to do...

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

IP: Logged
 
Scipio_66
Ensign   posted 12-23-2001 10:57 PM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

quote:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Originally posted by Brezgonne:
Out of Character Stuff First:
For the last time. Kzinti females are quite sentient.That was an area that deviated from Niven. Kind of hard to be a ship officer if your not.

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

Obviously this story's Kzinti females aren't sentient. I mean, come on; they like *shopping*! Can there ever be a more telling sign of a lack of sentience?

-S'Cipio (mall-mule extraordinaire)

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

[This message has been edited by Scipio_66 (edited 12-25-2001).]

IP: Logged
 
Brezgonne
Ensign   posted 12-23-2001 11:16 PM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 2 added for anyone who cares. Haven't done this in awhile so bear with my poor attempts at it.
IP: Logged
 
Scipio_66
Ensign   posted 12-24-2001 12:15 AM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The mighty Kor, chancellor of the Klingon Empire, stood before a full-length mirror within his newly refurbished throne room. He adjusted and readjusted the maroon sash over his newly tailored purple uniform. Marvelous! It was the paisley print that set the whole ensemble off. Martha Stewart had been quite right about paisley. That made Kor almost feel bad about having ordered her execution on Klinshai.
Kor fluffed his hair and then, satisfied with his toilette, took his seat upon the Iron Chair. He motioned that he was ready to receive his ?guests?. Klinshai servants scurried about the room tidying doilies, removing the mirror, and burning Dogmatix? latest update from Klinshai. Foolish Dogmatix, scowled Kor. Did the man really think he had time to read reports from the armpit of the empire when the Room of the Iron Chair needed a touch-up before receiving ?guests?? What would Martha have thought of the old décor?

Besides, Kor had sent Dogmatix to Klinshai to deal with any problems there. The man should deal with the peasants as he saw fit and leave the mighty Kor alone.

A full squad of heavily armed Q?onosian guards led in a pair of shackled Hydrans, one stumpy and one fat. The pair shambled about in their environment suits. Their body language gave a message Kor had seen many times before. ?We only wish we were as dangerous as you think we are.? Kor wasn?t fooled. Hydrans had far too many limbs and moved far too quickly to be trusted. Besides, they smelled bad and you just couldn?t allow them to wander about.

Stumpy spoke. ?I assume my fellow ambassador and I have been taken prisoner to exchange for your own personnel taken hostage on Hydrax?? There was a hopeful, pleading note within the translated voice.

?You are no such thing!? roared Kor. ?I don?t give a Targ?s rear end about my ambassadors on Hydrax. If I had cared about them, I would not have made them ambassadors to Hydrax! You are here because I know you to secretly be members of the Hydran Republican Front!?

Both Hydrans looked confused. ?Are we?? asked Stumpy. ?I thought we were members of the People?s Front of Hydrax,?

?No!? corrected Fatty. ?We hate them. They?re splitters! We are members of the Hydraxian People?s Front.?

?You are members of the Hydran Republican Front!? shouted Kor again.

?Are you sure?? asked fatty.

?Yes!? lied Kor. ?And you will carry my message to your leadership or you will be shot as spies!? Both Hydrans quit arguing. They were still unsure as to their political membership, but they both were quite sure of the meaning of the word ?shot?.

Stumpy cut a deep bow. If he?d had a pain stick, he?d have beaten himself with it to show his obedience. ?How may our unnamed secret faction be of service to the mighty Klingon Empire, your grace.?

?You are rebels,? stated Kor. ?All successful rebellions need outside funding.?

?Quite true, Your Grace,? agreed Fatty, attempting to out bow his companion.

?The Klingon Empire currently has a large supply of unreported funds. Given the severity of the reparations the Alliance is currently demanding, we would rather not have their inspectors discover and seize these funds.?

Stumpy had grown up serving within the Guild Houses. He knew the offer of an economic alliance when he heard one. ?You wish to set up secret accounts within our Mercantile Guild?s Banking System? And to pay us fees for keeping these accounts safe??

?I do. In fact, these fees could become rather large in the future, should any new Hydran government support us in our calls for a lessening of economic sanctions.?

Fatty had not grown fat by not being greedy. ?Oh,? he drooled, ?I?m certain we could arrange such an agreement with our leadership.?

-S?Cipio


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

 

[Gook]

Goose
Ensign   posted 12-24-2001 07:30 AM             
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

quote:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Originally posted by J'inn:
A PRELUDE TO GENESIS 4 of 8

"Ops!" Drall ordered. "We are superior! Play the music!"

"Yes sir, the Operations Officer stated as he hit the "Superiority Dance Music" button on his panel. The bridge then filled with the sound of a church organ playing a snappy tune and the Romulan Officers all stood and said as one "Well, isn't that special!" They then put their hands on their hips and started to dance in a strange way.

The present . . .



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

Ok for the length of that post and for the content you get this...

AND NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR...

Scene fades in

It?s a ground level view of a gym. There is a basketball game going on. Judging by the activity it is quite intense. The participants faces cannot be seen due to the angle of the camera, only chest down can be seen. After a little bit, the buzzer sounds. The game activity stops and the participants head to the locker room.

The camera follows one participant as he enters the room. Over his shoulder you see the rest of the players. They?re all Romulan!!


CUE MUSIC?

It's fun to stay at the S.P.Q.R. Interior shots of a health Spa.
It's fun to stay at the S.P.Q.R. Exterior shots of the building
They have everything Romulan Health-Food Buffet
For young men to enjoy.
You can hang out with all the boys. Rear shot of naked players in showers
It's fun to stay at the S.P.Q.R. Romulans exercising
It's fun to stay at the S.P.Q.R. Romulans swimming in a pool
You can get yourself clean Showers again
You can have a good meal Sitting down to a meal
You can do whatever you feel. Relaxing in the lounge

Young Man, I was once in your shoes, Depressed Young Romulan walking down street?
I said, I was down and out with the blues Sits on curb?
I felt, no man cared if I were alive Looks up, pleading to the others passing by?
I felt the whole world was so jive
That's when someone came up to me Sevlak approaches
and said young man take a walk up the street Sevlak talking to Young Romulan
There's a place there called the S.P.Q.R. Exterior shot of building again
They can start you back on your way. Young Romulan exercising?
It's fun to stay at the S.P.Q.R. Washing?(shower again)
It's fun to stay at the S.P.Q.R. Eating?
They have everything Studying?
For young men to enjoy. Young Romulan comes out of room looking completely different
You can hang out with all the boys. Group shot with Sevlek, Firehawk, Drall, Kremen, Renegade ?and the Young Romulan

THIS MESSAGE PAID FOR BY YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBOURHOOD TAL-SHIAR.


[This message has been edited by Goose (edited 12-24-2001).]

IP: Logged
 
Drake
Ensign   posted 12-24-2001 02:43 PM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stumpy and Fatty were flush with joy expelled from the Klingon empire and now rich for they belonged to no secret organization. The beauty of the Tilrax vacation spot was all the they could have hoped for. Sipping drinks by the pool the two planned what to do with all thier money.
'You will give it to me or I will kill you both,' Drake loomed over the two misfits.

'And why should we do that! I mean really how rude. If you dont leave at once i'll call the hotel security.' snubed fatty.

Drake had had enough. He grabed the two by the ear and lead them off to a secuded spot and beemed them on to a ship.
'I want your account information now!' screamed Drake.

'Here you go,' stumpy handed drake the access card and its pin number.

'Very good. Now You can return to your vacation complements of Naval intelligence.'

'I told you this was too good to be true.' Stumpy.

'You did no such thing.' Fatty.

Drake beamed them 100 meters into solid rock.

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

IP: Logged
 
Drake
Ensign   posted 12-24-2001 02:54 PM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drake beamed down the access caed and pinn number to the brigaders residence with a note.
Use this to outfit your unit. Compliments of Navel Intelligence.

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

IP: Logged
 
Scipio_66
Ensign   posted 12-25-2001 01:20 AM                 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
?I said I think he?s coming around,? the voice repeated.
S?Cipio opened his eyes. Visions of a daemonic J?inn dancing the Funky Chicken in hell faded away as he regained his senses. The big Gorn was vaguely aware that he was curled up on a very large rock surrounded by marshy water. The rock was quite warm, and a heat lamp hung above his head.

?Do have some liquor standing by,? continued the voice. S?Cipio uncurled, stood, and examined his surroundings. He was in the middle of a huge room that carried the sense of being underground. His warm rock formed the center of an artificial marsh. Foliage hung from bare beams in the ceiling. Over on the shore stood a figure speaking into a comm. panel.

The figure was very tall and pale and was dressed all in black. It wore heavy gloves, plain trousers, and a thigh-length coat with high collar that appeared to have a Velcro closure along its entire left side. S?Cipio believed that humans would have said the outfit looked very North Korean. The figure?s angular Romulan features only added to this illusion.

?I hope you?re not too upset,? the figure continued as he stepped to the waterline. ?I asked my agents to bring you here, and I am afraid that they are rather used to dealing with uncivilized Q?onosians.?

S?Cipio bore no grudge. Shooting people in the head from dark alleys was just the way the Tal-Shiar said hello. He waded across the swamp to greet his host. ?Do not let it trouble you. How long have I been unconsciousss??

?Forty-eight hours,? supplied the Romulan. ?It?s your slow Gorn metabolism that extended the time. My name is Cleaven, by the way,? he added as he offered his hand.

S?Cipio quickly recalled his boyhood friendship with Cleaven, then shook his head to clear it. He did yet not take Cleaven?s hand. ?Oho, that was very sssssmooth.?

Cleaven clapped his hands and joy lit his face. S?Cipio noted that the hands made a metallic banging noise as they clapped. He wrinkled his browplate with curiosity.

?Mechanical,? answered Cleaven gleefully. ?I lost my hands in a recent lab accident, and haven?t taken the time to regrow them yet. But tell me of the memories! How was their arrival? Were there any jagged cuts? Any inconsistencies??

?The appearance was very smooth,? S?Cipio reassured the nervous Romulan. But I now have two overlaying sssetssss of memoriesss for the sssame time period. And in one ssset my handsss are Romulan.?

Cleaven shook his head. ?It?s always the same. Tighten up one aspect of the transfer, and another falls apart. As I told you day before yesterday?.?

?We have never met before face to face,? interrupted S?Cipio, ?though I do believe your ship flew in aid over Ghdar during the Klingon invasion.?

Cleaven paused for a moment in confusion. ?Oh yes!? He brightened again. ?It?s so hard to keep it all straight.?

?Do you mean you perform thessse falssse memory experimentsss on yourself??

?Of course. How else am I to truly keep track of my progress? Subjects can only tell you so much, and if they weren?t voluntary subjects (a Q?onosian screamed in the background) then they aren?t always honest. Besides, sometimes it?s nice to have a memory of solving all my project?s problems. Why just last week I ?.. no wait, that wasn?t me.?

Cleaven seemed lost in thought for several moments and S?Cipio decided to prod him along. ?You were about to tell me why you needed to see me.?

?Of course! Follow me!? Cleaven turned and S?Cipio followed him into an enormous chamber buzzing with activity. Romulans in grey jumpsuits scurried around reel-to-reel computer banks, enormous panels of randomly blinking lights, and dozens of pointless catwalks. Each anonymous Romulan moved with frantic purpose, and none dared appear idle under the watchful eye of Cleaven.

His host led S?Cipio to a Romulan woman approaching with a bottle of scotch and three glasses. ?This is Dr. Nyet, chief of Station on Klinshai,? introduced Cleaven as he fumbled his way through pouring the scotch with his clumsy mechanical hands. S?Cipio recalled being married to the woman.

?I?m afraid we?ve actually never met before, Admiral,? she apologized as she extended hand. ?Despite anything you may recall.?

?It?sss quite all right, Madame,? assured the Gorn as he took her hand. He formally bent at the waist and touched his tongue to each of her knuckles before straightening and resuming the posture of respect. ?Cleaven and I have already disssscussed the artificial memoriesss. Mossst impresssive work.?

?Good,? Dr. Nyet replied. ?Then you understand our problems with the project, and why we need your help.?

?We had not yet reached that point of our conversssation.?

?The mind control chips!? exclaimed Cleaven. ?The ISC made great use of mind control chips during the pacification war. Unfortunately, we have been unable to duplicate them.?
S?Cipio drained the last of his scotch. It was of excellent quality. After two days of no food, and a head swimming with implanted memories, the alcohol was having quite an effect. While Cleaven had been speaking S?Cipio?s vision had blurred. Now his focus had cleared again, but everything appeared at a distance. It was if he were looking the wrong way through a telescope. He would definitely need Cleaven to drive him home. ?I don?t see how I can be of help here. You have a very well-funded lab.?

?Yes,? beamed Cleaven. ?We have the full backing of SPECTER.?

?What we don?t have,? interjected Dr. Nyet, ?is the location of any chip production facilities. We are certain the ISC operated one here on Klinshai. Any records recovered from there would be invaluable to the project.? She swayed heavily under the effects of her second glass of scotch. ?Dear me, I thought I remembered having a better tolerance than this.?

?No, dear,? explained Cleaven as he offered her a shoulder to steady herself upon. ?In fact, you?ve never drunk anything before.? He turned back to S?Cipio. ?Your Government, Mraa, and the Federation each have inspection teams on Klinshai to verify the cease-fire agreements. But your team seems to be having the most luck turning up illicit weapons.?

?I have contactsss with the local populace,? allowed S?Cipio. He waved away the offer of another glass of scotch. Cleaven tried to recork the bottle, but his clumsy mechanical hands proved unequal to the task and he dropped it. All three of them shared a good laugh, just like the first time they?d gotten drunk together at the Praetor?s birthday.

The laughter stopped abruptly as they each remembered that had never happened.

?Anyway,? continued Cleaven, ?if your teams could work with our agents to help find this facility, we would gladly share with your government any technology we build from it.?

S?Cipio glanced around the busy facility again. It really was an impressive bit of construction. It would be good to have access to it, and this particular Romulan was owed and extremely large debt from the war. He finally offered Cleaven his hand. ?You put your life on the line for Ghdar. How could I refuse you anything??

A pleasant evening followed as details were ironed out over dinner. S?Cipio re-established contact with his mission station and was brought up to speed on events since his disappearance. Cooperation with the Romulans was formalized, and S?Cipio was escorted back to his mission station. (S?Treleg pointedly did not tell him of the ?Shoot J?inn on sight? order.)

?I think that went rather well,? said Cleaven to Dr. Nyet.

?Except that you told him we are working with SPECTER.?

?Yes??

?Actually it?s SPQR.?

?Is it?? Cleaven furrowed his brows in concentration. ?Yes, I believe you?re right. Ah, it?s always the small details that are hardest to keep sorted out. I have got to get this process perfected.?

?Kor?s Hydran contacts seem to have skipped with their fees and someone has drained their kickback accounts. Q?onos, though, seems to have re-established contact with the appropriate rebellious Mercantile Guilds themselves, and Klingon ability to access their secret accounts remains unimpeded. The Tal-Shiar is unable to find these accounts. Do you think we should have told Admiral S?Cipio that Q?onos is now letting Hydrans do its banking??

?Oh no,? said Cleaven dismissively. ?That information could have proven useful to him. I'm not sure how much help or hindrance we want to be to his Klinshai revolution." Cleaven tried to keep all his memories straight. "Really not sure at all," he said with desperation.

****

Meanwhile, in the deepest chamber of SPQR headquarters, three shadowy figures shushed their hard drive as it downloaded the latest message from Klinshai. The pigeon is in play.

-S?Cipio


[This message has been edited by Scipio_66 (edited 12-25-2001).]

 

[Gook]

Well Scippy that's all I have of those two threads. That may be a blessing or otherwise.

I always wondered what would happen if Scippy's emails got mixed up, you know his "dodgy" day job and his alter ego, fancy explaining "The Pigeon is in Play" to his internal affairs peeps or even the FBI

[GDA-S'Cipio]

Well Scippy that's all I have of those two threads. That may be a blessing or otherwise

I have loved reading this stuff again!  I just can't believe the edit date on that last entry of mine:  December of 2001 !

I had completely lost Socky's Lyran sojourn, but I think I may have the rest of "What happened Next".  Give me a bit to dig around and I'll see if I can find it.

-S'Cipio