Topic: Goesa'vaina

[Governor Ronjar]

Trek comic? URL, please.

UR-what?!

I couldn't begin to figure out how to get such a thing on the net. Naw, this comic resides in the confines of my art notebook here at the house. I'm combining the art of anime such as Inuyasha with the simplisity of the Clone Wars 'toon. So far, so good. Getting close to finishing.

I've read back over our previos battleing over warp speeds. I think I just realised what the deal was... B'rel was not going to Goesa'vaina at Warp 9.98 of even the old show's Warp 8... The 'White Hairs' are only capable of Warp 5... They're pre-Enterprise vessels. Hope that clears my good name and lacking math skills...

Any who, for those who are jonesing...

Chapter Nine
In orbit of Goesa’vaina,
Eighth Day of Gromarg,
IKS B’rel




Commander Ron’jar’s face remained as stone as ship after ship of the Alliance fleet dropped out of warp speed above the sandy world spinning lazily below. The Tom’par’a led the procession, appearing from her flare of subspace disruption first and decelerating rapidly as she took up a position in front of B’rel. The broad, fat bulk of the green painted warship nearly took up the majority of the small viewer at the bow of Ron’jar’s bridge. An uncontrolled near-sneer flashed across the Klingon’s bearded face and he flicked the visual resolution to a lower zoom setting. That wispy, smug old fool might be overwhelmingly proud of his over grown battle-monster, but this didn’t mean the commander wanted it filling his screen. Further battlecruisers began to fall from warp speed.

“Final cruisers arriving, my lord.” Lieutenant Tor’nax called off from the science console. The commander gave him a silent nod as Nurrag turned from the communications station.

“Tom’par’a hails, Commander.”

“Visual.”

The awesome images of the fleet taking their places over the besieged world blinked away. Replacing it was the dried up old general. “Greetings Commander Ron’jar.” He chuckled through uneven teeth and a wide smirk. “I see we’ve been very busy since your contact report.” The next dripped with sarcasm. “Have you captured the planet yet?”

Ron’jar’s left brow peeked a bit as he leaned unconcernedly within the confines of his chair. “Not as yet, General… We forgot to bring our disruptors.”

Tor cracked an honest smile. Ron’jar had never seen the man smile when speaking with La’ra. “Well, we’ve brought plenty of them. It’s time to give the business ends of them to the Goesans.”

“Indeed.” The commander replied. He stood from the command chair and rested a palm on the butt of his weapon. Before him, Bek Nurrag pressed a key he’d had waiting since the fleet had reached the system’s outer limits. “I have thoroughly detailed my plan to infiltrate the city. I am sending you a copy. We’ll need the assistance of several assault shuttles. Some that you don’t mind losing.”

Tor received a data pad from one of his own officers just out of the reach of the visual pickup. He looked over the glowing red text that stared up at him. The old general’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the built-in foil hidden within the plan. At last, he nodded his assent. “You may have your shuttles, Commander. Just don’t destroy ALL of them. After you begin your attack and your team confirms insertion, I will order the fleet to begin beaming our Qas Dev down to the other ten major cities. Then we will take up bombardment positions in orbit to ensure no troop movements are possible.”

Ron’jar nodded agreement. He stepped forward, closer to the visual feed. He knew his face would immediately become larger and more imposing on Tor’s own screen. It was a cheap maneuver, used primarily to scare lesser ship commanders. The commander did so now to momentarily throw the general off kilter. “Be sure to advise your Qas DevwI’ not to cause too much unnecessary damage to the native surroundings. It would be a shame to mar the architecture.”

“A fan of alien construction, are we, Commander?” Tor grunted a short laugh. “I’ll pass the word along. Don’t hold your breath.”

Ron’jar watched the screen twitch back to its previous image of the slow moving cruisers. He allowed only the smallest of grins, a smile only La’ra would have been able to actually make out for what it was. He took a deep breath of musky warship air, and turned toward his First. “Tor’nax, ready our insertion team! Light melee load only. No bat’leths! We must be able to move quickly and through tight spaces. Standard rifle and grenade load-out.”

“Qa’pla!” The young officer spat back, fist to breast in salute. He then turned and stalked out the iris-like bridge doors. A proud bustle broke out in the control room as the crew took on a springier step. Several among the current bridge staff would participate in the action below. The rest were proud to do their part to insert them.

All save one. Sub-lieutenant S’tall merely stood behind the engineering console, hands clasped demurely behind her, seemingly oblivious to the cheerful clamor of smash-happy Klingon going on about her. Likely, she did not understand why the crew was so damned elated about the prospect of going down to a waiting war-zone. She simply stood there silently behind the operating technician, watching over the engine readouts. This did make Ron’jar smile.

It was an evil, wicked kind of leer.

“Sub-lieutenant S’tall,” he called to her. She turned and he wiped most of his grin away. She caught only a flash of the expression. Only enough to send a chill up her spine… “Will the cloak require complete supervision during the operation I detailed to you?”

She took a moment to answer, wanting to lie to him. Something told her not to dare. He knew the answer already. “Negative.”

“Excellent. Go down to the armory deck. Get yourself a rifle.”





The Trade Square,
Jessa’man’a City




Lieutenant Alfred Jackson crinkled his nose and brow as the reports began.

“The orbiting fleet has destroyed the last of our surveillance satellites, Prime.” The slim and actually short soldier sitting behind the Intel station in the command tent called off. The government-issue-bald tech held a black command mike to one ear much in the style of Starfleet com officers as he watched over the scrolling lines of text and graphics that filled his screen. “Ground stations are taking sporadic fire from above… North Station 7 registers what is believed to be multiple shuttlecraft launches from several of the larger warships.”

“Could our aerospace fighters get them before they reach atmosphere?” Elani’tess asked. Jackson knew well enough not to react adversely to such a naive question. The queen lacked combat experience.
“No, my Jessa’tae.” Coarus answered evenly. “Our fighters would prove ineffective amid such heavy anti-fighter screening fire. No matter how many we threw at them, they would be easily taken down. Our best bet is to utilize our crafts’ superior atmospheric maneuverability by engaging the shuttles close to the surface. Shuttles do not handle well in planetary reach.”

Jackson mentally amended the Goesan’s misconception. Most shuttles didn’t handle well in atmosphere. Some did. It just so happened that those that did could not carry more then two to four men. Such were almost useless in an assault save to protect larger craft. To take and hold this planet, the Klingons likely had their bays packed to the bulkheads with assault type craft.

“Station 7 confirms previous readings. Multiple atmospheric insertions and jetstream disruption…” The tech began to chant. More info scrawled across his screens. “Forty shuttle craft counted. Doppler analysis also indicates the likelihood of a larger, non-visible vessel preceding the smaller craft.”

“The Bird of Prey.” Jackson almost growled. The warship that had hit Endeavour had yet to show itself with more than an ID beacon to its fleet since the attack. Alfred swore he would have his vice-like hands on that Klink’s throat by tomorrow! The technician went on.

“Station 7 reports coarse projection places the incoming craft en route for the Capitol City!”
Coarus’ hard voice came next. “Scramble intercept fighters. Those vessels are not to get through.”
Jackson turned to the Dashak Prime and his ruler.

“Ma’am, your fighter ordnance isn’t likely even to lock onto a cloaked ship, let alone be able to damage it. My shuttle can paint the target for your craft, and its phasers stand a better chance of scoring some real hurt, at least before they decloak and get their shields up.”

Elani nodded her understanding.

“Then launch your ship, Lieutenant.”

Jackson turned and ran toward his waiting vessel. He would command the defense himself.

[Governor Ronjar]

This 20,000 character limit is for the damn birds!!!

170 kilometers away,
800 meters above the Deswan Waste




With the undulating roar and whine of fusion driven engines, thirty weapon-laden planetary assault shuttles roared through the wind-ripped sky of an alien world. Below them could be seen only feathery clouds and bleached stretches of endless sand. From this altitude, the intruders could barely make out the roads crossing the barren terrain beneath them that eventually would lead to the target city.
The pilots of these vessels relied upon local land marks; hills, dunes, stony mountain uprisings; and the powerful signature of the capitol’s deflector shield to guide them in. They maintained a rigid speed limit, daring not to overtake the invisible starship blasting along before them. While it flew above them, it could still prove disastrous to close in too close with the Bird of Prey.

Soon, contacts began to paint themselves upon the invaders’ sensor screens. Defending aircraft were rushing out to give battle. The fighters loosened their formations in preparation for return fire and they strengthened their forward shields. Both forces were well within firing range of modern weaponry, but at atmospheric speeds, firing too far away meant only much more of a chance to evade.
Both groups waited as the kilometers and kelicams fell away.



Jackson watched as the first squadron of defending gull-winged fighters opened fire with their wing-mounted missiles. The weapons were loaded with powerful spatial charges much like Starfleet used a hundred years previous. The warheads would be next to useless against a starship’s polarized hull and fully charged deflectors, but would prove quite powerful versus craft as small as shuttles.
The missiles streaked away, leaving contrails even in the hot air of this altitude. The first line of shuttles broke formation to evade, and the trackers of the defending weapons latched onto them like slavering hounds. Alfred figured the first assault would claim few kills, and looked down at the piloting controls arrayed before him. His own ship was flying obscenely slow when compared to its true capacities. But he had chosen to maintain formation with his allies. He would be depending on them as much as they were upon him.

“Positive lock on that damned Bird?” He demanded of Mister Ricci at the ops panel right of him.

“Not yet. He’s in the center of the air mass, but I can’t get a real scan of him.” The ensign replied, eyes not wavering from the readouts arranged all about him. Jackson found himself peering ahead, hoping to catch an impossible glimpse of the interloping craft. There wasn’t really any possible…

But there was indeed something out there…

Jackson squinted, looking past the swarm of shuttles darting away from low-tech missiles and through the second wave of ships returning fire with brilliant bursts of emerald fire… What was that he was looking at? Was it behind the incoming force? No, it was in front! A huge shimmer, like a blur in one’s vision! A shifting pattern of mottled light and color…

Activating his manual scopes, Alfred began to target the blotch he was looking at. Ricci noticed, his earnest face painted in inquiry.

 “I’ve got him!” Alfred assured, pressing the fire key.

Phasers lanced out at the seeming glob of nothing and cascaded over in indefinable shape passing through the sparse clouds. Ricci’s eyes widened at the sight of the strike and instantly he began to relay orders to their accompanying escort. “Contact, contact! Bird of Prey sighted, lock on that explosion and fire!”





The Goesan aerospace fighters were quick as angry bees to respond. Ignoring their previous targets, they whipped away from the shuttles and instantly began pounding the shimmering mass amid them. The Bird of Prey’s form fluttered in and out as its stressed cloak tried to compensate for all the varied weapon strikes. Phaser blasts, spatial warhead explosions and machine gun impacts rocked the winged starship and caused her to drop through the air. Several of the Goesan craft at the head of the pack began to spiral after it as they closed ground.

With a final shimmer and a flash of pale light, the hunch-backed bird ship dropped her cloak and resolved into view. More weapons struck her hull, hitting hard enough to leave visible impressions on her green hull. At long last, though, her deflector shields came up, and both Goesan weaponry and the phasers of the Starfleet shuttle began to bounce off like hail on a tin roof.

The Bird of Prey began to raise her nose, gaining altitude even as she flew into the swarm of Goesan craft. Meanwhile, the shuttles following behind the scoutship began to concentrate their fire of the fighters dogging their larger companion.

“Break off your attack on the Bird of Prey!” Jackson was calling to his allies. Few answered his signal, and none heeded his warning. Many began to fall victim as they were assaulted from behind while concentrating on a warship they could no longer injure.

Alfred had hoped to do as much damage as possible while the scout’s shields were down. His ploy hadn’t paid off. The Bird was visible now, shielded, and nearly untouchable beneath her capitol-scale shields. The lieutenant watched as the huge, green painted warship swung his way, and could imaging her gunner targeting their small shuttle. He put the small, agile craft into a series of evasive maneuvers to put distance between the scout and themselves.

“Lieutenant, can you get us seventy meters above the Bird of Prey on a parallel coarse?” Ricci asked suddenly. Alfred shot him a glance.

“Probably…why?”

“I have a plan, that is, if you think you can fly us back to the capitol on the RCS thrusters.”
Jackson rankled. “Of coarse I can. Just what the hell are you asking me to do?” The lieutenant was already aiming their ship for the point Ricci had asked for, above the scoutship.

“I’m going to turn our impulse drive into a nuclear bomb.”

Lieutenant Jackson suddenly smiled. He looked at the terrain mapping sensors as he guided the shuttle above the whipping melee of assault craft and fighters. “Can you remote trigger the detonation?”

“Yes.”

“Good, we’ll detonate the drive above the target, just one kilometer before that mountain range.” He said, pointing to the jutting crags they were approaching. Ricci nodded, punching in the final modifications he’d need to make in the engine’s settings. As he worked, he keyed for the Goesan com channel. “Attention all fighters, on our next signal, break attack formation and get away from the Klingon force. We are about to light up the sky!”

The next few seconds were tense. More than once the shuttle drew fire, bouncing with direct disruptor fire to her shields. Several near misses with enemy and allied craft alike nearly ruined their attack plan. Finally, they reached their drop coordinates.

“Ready in three…two…one!” Jackson called. Ricci pressed the waiting amber colored key, signaling their escort as he did.

“All craft, break attack!”

The tiny shuttle lurched as a third of her weight fell away. Jackson fought to retain control over their flight as the RCS thrusters now took total responsibility over their flight. All they could do was pray the defenders heeded the warning and watch the counting indicators on the sensor board. At the desired altitude, Ricci pressed the initiator key.

A great white flash split the shy just above the neck of the giant Bird, instantly driving her into a plummeting dive for the deck. Three trailing shuttlecraft and several unlucky fighters were vaporized by the blast. The Bird of Prey dropped like a stone to the uneven line of saw-tooth mountains below.

“Did she impact?” Alfred asked Ricci.

“I’m not certain, Lieutenant. There was no explosion on the surface, but the mass of the mountainside is blocking sensor reception.”

“Well, we’re not maneuverable enough to make a pass to check while fending off their assault shuttles. We’re heading for base.”





Sub-lieutenant S’tall grimaced a look of apprehension as she and the insertion team listened to their commander receive the report of the downed Bird of Prey. Ron’jar just seemed to shrug the loss off and returned to his place near the ramp. “We land in one minute,” he told them without emotion in his tone.

S’tall stepped as close as she dared. Ron’jar regarded her as a butcher looked at a slaughtered bull. “Commander, without the scoutship’s support, are we not at a disadvantage?”

“The Bird of Prey merely served to add credence to our ruse.” He replied coldly, betraying nothing of what he truly thought of losing the warship. “We continue as planned. Landing is in forty seconds!”
The sounds of the ship’s thruster system began to whine louder and louder. The small ship tilted starboard, the to port, then came the sound of the landing gear machinery in the bulkheads behind the waiting teams. Finally, there came a grinding crunch. Ron’jar’s palm found the activation panel and the landing ramp descended into the dry sand below.

“Disembark!” The commander shouted. His men were already in motion, marching quickly down the lowered ramp and taking defensive positions on the arid ground beneath the ship. S’tall hesitated, then found herself tumbling down the slant of the unforgiving ramp into the shifting sands. Ron’jar thumped along behind, his boots rooted beside her as she lay panting in the awesome heat of this new world. The Romulan clutched the Klingon disruptor to her chest, praying the dirt had not fouled it, and allowed Ron’jar to haul her to her feet.

“To the drainage tunnel, double time!” The commander barked again, and his men were off. Behind them, the wind howled and sand blew into great geysers as the cloaked B’rel lifted from the ground and resumed her lone flight. The insertion team was alone now.

The team made it to the designated drainage tunnel; a two-meter tall pipe made of thin, corrugated alloy. All but Ron’jar took refuge within the cool confines of the sewage chamber. The commander stood without, looking skyward along the avenue his shuttle would be making their attack. At long last, he turned to Lieutenant Boren, the senior among the assault force. “Were we sighted?”
“No, my lord. I sighted no one, and tricorder readings showed clear. The rise of the cliff is too severe for our landing to have been noticed by many.” The tall, broad shouldered Qas DevwI’ answered. Ron’jar nodded back, taking a final look to the far skies.

“Our assault shuttles approach. Prepare to deploy!”

The team brushed past S’tall as they headed farther into the confines of the musty smelling sewage drain. The deflector field protecting the city projected also into this man-made cavern through the rock strata above. It remained powerful enough to halt any hand held weaponry, and under normal circumstances, any attempt to breach the field from here would be detected. Amid the batter of shuttle weaponry due to the attack beginning outside, however, the chances of such detection now were slim. Readying their breaching charges and field inhibitors, the Klingons gleefully plodded along.
*******************************************************************************

I hope this was bearable. I know yall have waited patiently for some time, as have I to be where I am now, being able to write on this in the comfort of my home without interuption. I hope you all enjoy, and more will come soon.

[Grim Reaper]

UR-what?!

(Uniform Resource Locator) The address identifies the location of a Web page on the World Wide Web.

Thus, he basicly wants you scan your comic, to upload it and to provide us with the proper locator to find it. It's easy

Anyways, on to the important part: I love your update(s)! Great action, and nice ploy of that feddie. Still, Ron'jar, outsmarted him. Just a couple of questions: The downed BOP is't Ron'jar's one right? Even though the feddie thinks it is? Or was Ron'jar aboard a shuttle? That's not fully clear to me. The shuttle is most likely to me now but i'm not sure.

now GIMME MORE SOON! to those copying my lines


j/k

[Governor Ronjar]

 I quote:
“To the drainage tunnel, double time!” The commander barked again, and his men were off. Behind them, the wind howled and sand blew into great geysers as the cloaked B’rel lifted from the ground and resumed her lone flight. The insertion team was alone now.


The downed BoP was not B'rel. And I do know what a URL is. That was just my snide thumbing of the nose to computers and the web in general. Glad you enjoyed.

[Scottish Andy]

Great installment, Guv! I love that the baddies (the Starfleet types in this story) aren't completely brainless, and actually quite clever with that impulse nuke trick.

Keep it up!

[Governor Ronjar]

I love that the baddies (the Starfleet types in this story) aren't completely brainless, and actually quite clever with that impulse nuke trick.

Keep it up!

The RPG character Ricci is based upon is both a nuclear demolitions specialist and a generally dirty bastard. I thought his idea in the story fitting. I don't believe in stupid badguys, no matter what La'ra thinks of my RPG portrayal of Red Talons. (just because they're dirty and uncooth does not mean they're stupid!)

I'm nearly finished with my Trek comic. It's up to 20 pages now. Am entertaining the idea of the URL idea, but really don't know the first thing about setting one up. Cap'n Josh got me to thinkin'... Either way, it will be scanned onto my computer.

Thus far I have not had the time nor the creative compunction to write further on Goesa'vaina. I need inspiration. I'm watching Enterprise Season 2 for nit-picky inspiration, but thus far have not stoked the furnace... I think the comic sucks up most of my creative juice. (DOMINATE YOUR FACE!!!) damn, where'd that come from!?

Anywho...anyone who has mud to throw, aim above!

thu guv'!

[Governor Ronjar]

Compared to my previous chapters, this is not long at all. I wrote it tonight inside of an hour and gave it a brief edit. I concider is a stepping off point to bigger, nastier chapters to follow.

Chapter Ten
City Main Sewer Drain Number 4,
Jessa’man’a City,
Goesa’vaina




Lieutenant First Boren knelt and affixed the final field destabilizer to the bottom hemisphere of the deflector barrier blocking the team’s entrance. New, unconquered lands lay beyond the protection of this invisible barrier. Each warrior held back by it itched to be through and to the other side. Ron’jar watched in stony silence, allowing the Qas DevwI’ time and space to work. His eye continued to glance over toward S’tall.

For her part, the Romulan continued to remain quiet and calm, despite his having kicked her crudely down the boarding ramp only minutes ago. He wondered if she truly realized that he had done such a thing, or did she believe she’d tripped? Her slim hands held the borrowed rifle well and with a disciplined manner. She was a soldier after all. Ron’jar had begun to doubt. He’d not let her behind him…

“Set!” Boren shouted, backing instantly away. He pressed the initiator key and was immediately rewarded with a crackle and a series of flashes from the deflector field. “Shield neutralizing…Down!”
“Go!” Ron’jar ordered them. They were off in a heartbeat, S’tall behind the main group and Ron’jar in the rear. Stepping through the pierced barrier, the commander turned back and played his pistol’s barrel over the way they’d come. Satisfied they’d not been followed, he looked down and kicked the field neutralizer away. A moment later, the field was just as strong as it had been.

The tunnel configuration changed totally at the first junction. Turning from corrugated alloy to duracrete, the sewers stretched into a vast web of drain and service corridors beneath the city’s roots. The duracrete was old, stained black by the years. The capitol city had been planned and built from the bottom up after its populations came together into a peaceful conglomeration. The sewers were just as old as the rest of the capitol, all of it being several hundred years old. Now these same tunnels would be the city’s undoing.

As the group of thirty-one soldiers came to a halt beneath the structure of a wide support arch, Ron’jar addressed them all. “Planetary dusk is in one hour. Split into pre-assigned teams and make your way to the planned waypoints. Groups Three through Five will begin harassment operations, drawing attention from our objective. Group Two will remain in guard position one until Group One is eliminated or requires backup. Questions?”

There were none. The plan had been discussed and refined several times as they’d made their journey here and waited for the fleet. Even the Romulan knew it by heart, even through she hadn’t believed she’d ever be part of it.

Ron’jar granted them each a worthy glance, knowing he’d not see many of them again. They would perform honorably. At last, he nodded to them. “Qa’pla!”

“Qa’pla!” They returned as one, and turned to leave their commander and his team. Group One, the largest team by its extra alien member, remained in place as Ron’jar began to take scans of the city above. His tricorder hummed and buzzed in the dim stillness, making the Rihansu Sub-lieutenant cringe at every loud tone.

“Couldn’t you have brought a quieter scanner?”

“No.”

S’tall growled beneath her breath. Her arched brow line became even more severe. “What is taking so long, Commander?”

Ron’jar did not answer, but kept eyeballing his device. Finally, he closed the machine down. “The shuttle fleet continues its attack on the deflector field. A surprising number survived to reach the city. The fleet above has added its firepower to the ruse. We are ready to begin.”

With a motion of his pistol, Ron’jar led them through the dank, foul smelling tunnels. He continued to keep the Romulan at his side…





The Trade Square,
Jessa’man’a City




The tiny, misshapen remnant of a Federation shuttlecraft settled herself down onto the dusty sands just outside the square’s command post. Goesans ran close to the opening side doors to watch the two battle weary human officers who’s helped fight off the first wave of Klingon aggressors. The battle had been a fierce one, and had lasted until nearly sundown.

Lieutenant Jackson and Ensign Ricci regarded the faces of those who received them; their faces so like theirs but for the small, bifurcated triangle of cartilage above their noses, which made their planet’s air more breathable for them. These people were greeting them like returning heroes. Their craft had remained airborne, offering phaser cover and strategic support during the entirety of the battle over the city. Clasped handshakes and slaps on the tops of their shoulders applauded them as they stepped down from the gangplank and off the shuttle’s now useless nacelle. Ricci glanced back at their ride. This shuttle would never see space again. Between the damage, the loss of the impulse drive and the depletion of its plasma capacitors as phaser energy, the shuttle was spent. Ricci looked over at the scorched side of the once white vessel. Beneath the carbon smudge, the name still peered out. The craft had been named the Burton Gwinn. Ricci hadn’t looked to see what ship they’d boarded when launching from Endeavour. One shuttle was just like all the others…Usually… This one had been different. It had fought till the very end, and served its pilots well. The ensign didn’t know whom the shuttle had been named for, but he’d damned sure find out when he returned home.

Lieutenant Jackson left the ensign behind to the adulation of the throng of Goesan soldiers and made for the command tent. There he found the queen and her command entourage in the same places he’d left them. The Jessa’tae turned at his approach.

“Lieutenant! A great and worthy effort, from all those involved.”

“Yes,” the blonde man returned, “We all did very well. How many craft were shot down?”

“Twenty at last count. The Bird of Prey re-lifted just before your return and made for high orbit.” Coarus sounded, his back still to the human and eyes glued to his screens. Jackson paused for a mental count.

“Have your sent teams to search through their wreckage?”

The queen looked taken aback by the inquiry.
“And why would we do that?”

“To check for possible Klingon survivors, my queen.” He answered. “They could still present a danger to your countryside, even if they can’t get into the city itself.”

This drew the Dashak Prime away from his scrolling screens of information. “They can survive a plummet from such altitudes?”

“It’s been known. Their inertial dampeners are at least as good as ours, possibly better.”
Elani’tess looked back to an attaché and directed him to organize search forces to scour the areas the enemy shuttles went down. The Prime stepped close to Jackson. “A craft went down not two kilometers from the deflector perimeter. It is the closest. Below the stone mesa the city resides upon, clear sensor readings are not possible without satellite coverage.”

“I’ll lead a Starfleet team there personally.”

“Take men from the Dashak! My men are well trained.”

With a final nod to the planet’s ruler and its military commander, Jackson turned to find his men.




Two Kilometers outside Jessa’man’a City,
In the Shelfan Flats,
Goesa’vaina




Lieutenant Jackson knelt low behind the cover of the portable shield generator his men had set up. His riflebutt raised into its well know resting-place in the bend of his shoulder. His finger poised just over the waiting trigger. Ahead of him, visible through the magnification of his holoscope, Petty Officer Jentry stood and waited for the lieutenant’s ‘clear’ signal so he could open the mangled hatch on the wasted assault shuttle. With his left hand, Jackson flashed the noncom his signal. All tensed as the brawny youth levered open the warped door. Smoke flowed out from within the craft, disappearing into the darkening gloom of descending night.

Planetary night was dark indeed on this world. Due to its extreme tilt toward its sun, Goesa’vaina would not have any night at all on its habitable hemisphere…where it not for its moon. Calla, the world’s sole natural satellite, provided solar relief for her children every night in the form of an eleven hour long eclipse. Jackson considered flipping on his night vision eyepiece, but thought better of it. It wasn’t dark enough just yet…

No movement came from within the downed shuttle. Another motion sent the seven-man squad of Goesan soldiers closer to the vessel. Rifles trained on the open chasm, the warriors waited for Jackson to move in. Raising into a low stoop, the Starfleet officer advanced and shined his rifle lamp through the entrance.

He found what he’d suspected. The tricorders had shown the vessel to be devoid of life. They had been correct. The only occupant of the ship was very dead, his remains tossed all about the cramped confines of the assault shuttle. Ensuring that the Klingon was, in fact, dead, Jackson turned to the senior Goesan soldier.

“You’re certain no transports were detected here?”

“Indeed,” replied the giant, muscled, bald-headed Goesan.

“We might have a problem, then…”
****************************************************************

How'z about that? Gonna go watch anime now...
Let the mud fly and the bodies hit the floor.

--thu guv'

[Grim Reaper]

too bloody short!

Me likes.

[KBF-Frankk]

  thanks Guv

realmente me gusta tu historia 

especialmente cuando Ron'jar le da una patada a la romulana 

+ karma 4u

[Governor Ronjar]

 No albla...whatever the hell that just was.

I understand karma, however, and thank you greatly Frankk!

Comic is now at 24 pages. Might wind up 30 long before done! I've got lots of color penciling to do...

see you'uns

--thu guv'!

[Jaeih t`Radaik]

Hey Guv,

Nice little bit. Thankfully you ain't mistreating my comrade worse than any turtle-head ever treats a poor, misunderstood Rihanha, or your B'rel would be having words with my Warbird! *grin*

Waiting for more, keep it up.

[Governor Ronjar]

I'd have to know the class of warbird before I started shaking... If its a Kestrel, I ain't budgin'. B'rel eats too many of them on SFC3. I can take down anything under BCH with my own BoP refit on the Gen At War mod. With patience and practice, of coarse.

If you're talking about a D'deridex... 

--thu guv'!

[Jaeih t`Radaik]

Hah. Sod SFC3, I mean my SFB War Eagle against your B'rel. I'll kick your arse for sure. :-)~

[Governor Ronjar]

Actual SFB? You would surely win as Ron'jar would fall asleep within moments from all the nagging rules...snore...what! Huh! Oh yeah... Combat, right. I guess I'll just board your ship then.

[Governor Ronjar]

I have finished my Endeavour comic. Distpite my hatred of messing with 'puters at such levels, I'd be grateful to learn how to post it for y'all.

[Grim Reaper]

U can scan everything and zip it. Then attach it here via the additional options.

Or mail (collect adresses via PM)

[Governor Ronjar]

Not done colorizing it. It'll be some time before I'm ready to scan and zip the whole thing.

'sides, might not be around much anyway after my tasteless remark for Jaeih's page.

[Governor Ronjar]

Well, I haven't been moderated yet.

I've seen y'all put pics on these pages along with your posts. How can I do this with my comic crap? I've been a coloring quite feverishly lately. It's like one huge coloring book drawn by my self. Strange...

--thu guv!

[Grim Reaper]

'sides, might not be around much anyway after my tasteless remark for Jaeih's page.

PuhLease. If that's reason to go I'd never stay anyware. True you might have stepped over her bounds. You applogized. IMHO you get a second chance. And if I read correctly she's ready to give you one. Klingons don't back away from a challenge.

Well, I haven't been moderated yet.

I've seen y'all put pics on these pages along with your posts. How can I do this with my comic crap? I've been a coloring quite feverishly lately. It's like one huge coloring book drawn by my self. Strange...

--thu guv!

well you'd have to find a site that will allow you to link to images. Check this search page. Upload them there and copy the link.

as for embedding the images in the post: the second to left (of the bottom row) of the buttons above allows you to insert a image into your post. Just past the link between the [ img ][ / img ] (without the spaces between the [])

or quote this post and look how i did it:



(image courtesy of Raven Night's Nightsoftware reachable here)

[Commander La'ra]

If you're having still having trouble with it Saturday, I'll show ya' when ya' come up.