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Post by * Cold Harbor Story / Action * on Dec 9, 2009 12:28:24 GMT -6
New Story; Chapter #1: It’s quiet… The Cold Harbor had sat in ‘traction’ for just over 2 weeks, the multiple hundreds of engineers and system technicians and assist robots worked 3 shifts every day, completing repairs that would take a standard Star Dock facility well over twice that length of time to do. If the Crew, the Ship, and her CO were ‘biting at the bit’ to get back to work, so was CRV Command. 15 minutes after receiving the ‘repairs complete’ order from The Mechanicum’s head of Engineering, The Cold Harbor received orders requiring them to depart immediately. Colonel Grant gave a simple order for his Engineering Chief to give a ‘once over’ of the repairs completed, trusting Chief Murkeye more then the countless faces that had been aboard his ship for several weeks. Although not entirely happy, if Bob even ever could be, he got the okay and got the ship underway. His orders being sealed, and sent directly from the Director General, which was standard, he called all his senior officers to the briefing room to give them an updated, and as usual very generic, report of where they were going and what they were doing.
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Post by Samuel J. Grant on Dec 9, 2009 12:32:13 GMT -6
Colonel Grant Duty Log;
We’ve been ‘dry docked’, I supposed you could call it, for around 14 days, 14 long days. It’s been a sight to seen in its own right the level of repairs that were done to The Ship; having huge chunks of hull and nacelle repairs done in short order, was something else. With the new crew assigned to the ship, and a few new Senior Officers to replace those lost in the last action, I find that we are as ready as we can be given our situation. Although The Cold Harbor herself is repaired and more ready for action then she was on her maiden voyage, her crew was still recovering from the trauma and stress they’d suffered, and some of us are having more troubles then others.
I find that even with my background, and having been in a War and many battles before, that I seem to be struggling more this time then at anytime before. I’ve spent a lot of time dwelling and contemplating on it, and the only thing I can think of is because it was MY Ship under MY command; I didn’t have a superior officer to blame for any mistakes, avoidable or unavoidable, just me. While I can find nothing I did that was directly wrong at the time, nor did CRV Command hold me responsible; it was still my decisions.
Now, to make matters more complicated, I have a new XO that is almost an exact carbon copy, save for a name change and a few physical differences, of the former ships XO who went insane. I’ve got some things in the works, at the moment, to try and insulate us all from having another incident as we did last time, but some how I get the feeling that this is all done with a purpose, as if CRV HQ, or another ARM, is watching either me, the ship or our missions.
Regardless, it’s ‘H Hour’, so we’re off again.
Computer; end log entry
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Post by Ahn Lau on Dec 12, 2009 20:42:37 GMT -6
Location: Marine Training Center
The marines were gathered in the main training room- a big open space with room to practice almost any type of combat. Ahn had paired up an experienced marine with someone who was new to the ship and was having them spar with another pair of marines. Not wanting people to become injured before they left for their mission, she made everyone set their phasers to the absolute minimum level. She watched their techniques, but mostly, her goal was to get the new people and the veterans to cooperate and get along.
She smirks, remembering how they had not taken her seriously as their CO at first. She didn't blame them- she was young and small. However, she had demonstrated her combat prowess by flipping one of the biggest marines onto the padded floor of the training room and they didn't question her after that. She had even found someone else who knew how to fight with her favorite weapon- a katana. Private Trevor Harding was proficient enough with a blade that he was fun to practice with. She had even enlisted him to help teach some of the others how to use melee weapons, as such skills were often lacking in the standard Starfleet training.
Ahn uses a break in the schedule to send her progress report up to the Colonel- reporting that all was going well and that everyone was getting along much more nicely than anticipated.
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Post by Capt. Zek'dyn on Dec 12, 2009 20:44:30 GMT -6
Location: Holodeck 001
Zek was just finishing some training scenarios with his newly formed security teams when he got the call for the senior staff to head to the briefing room. “Good a new mission, I hate just sitting around…” Zek mumbled to himself as he turned to his teams, they were a good bunch of FNGs but getting them to work like a well oiled machine was going to take time. It was frustrating, but each day saw improvement. “Alright good job everyone, hit the showers, get some grub, and sleep. We will start again tomorrow, gym 0400, dismissed.” Zek watched his crew file out of the Holodeck, “Computer end program” and left for the Briefing.
Upon arriving he found he was the first here, he went to his seat and quietly reviewed his padd, while he waited for the other senior officers to arrive.
Location: Briefing Room
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Post by 'Chief' Bob on Dec 12, 2009 21:43:32 GMT -6
Location: Chief Engineer’s office
Bob was digging through one of the many piles of random parts in his office looking for just the right thingamabob to finish off his masterpiece. His comm. chirped with the order to report to the briefing room, Bob jumped not expecting the noise, falling on his tailfin and scattering parts all over the office. “Mggrrrrruuuglrwlrwlrwll! I did have all this stuff in manageable piles!! It’s going to take hours to get things reorganized!!!” Just for good measure Bob threw a handful of isolinear chips at the comm. panel, knowing that it was going to be more work to pick those up as well, it was still satisfying to hear the impact of the multiple projectiles. Bob looked down at his mess, “AHHAA!! I found it!” he reached down and picked up the piece he was looking for originally and went back to his pet project. With the previous mission and the repairs afterward Bob had just recently gotten a chance to work on this little side project. Two newly designed chairs for the Briefing room, one for Zek and one for himself. Bob could really care less if that walking feather duster was comfortable or not, but the prospect of designing a new chair was too much fun to pass up. Bob did research into Skorrian furniture and designed something that was comfortable, durable, and functional, Bob even made it a little shorter so that the damn bird wasn’t looking down at everyone all the time. Bob’s chair was taller so he was on the same level as everyone and had hydration pores so his skin didn’t dry out during those long and boring lectures from the CO. Both chairs made room for their tails.
Bob didn’t feel like dragging these things all the way up to the Briefing room, so he accessed transporter control and beamed himself and the chairs there.
With all the extra tinkering Bob was the last to arrive, fashionably late… Bob frowned at everyone “What?” then dragged the chairs over to the table, “Here Zek try this out, let me know if it works for you and I can make another for your office.” Bob slid his chair into place, climbed up, and smiled sarcastically at the Colonel, “Ok you can begin now.”
Location: Briefing Room
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Post by Samuel J. Grant on Dec 13, 2009 13:35:44 GMT -6
Location: Ready Room
Colonel Grant closed the communication channel with CRV Command and scoffed “Figures; a suicide run as a maiden voyage and then a police action for our second… maybe command is dyslexic.” He stood up, grabbed a PADD, and activated internal communications “Colonel Grant to all Senior Officers; please report to the Observation Lounge for mission briefing in 5 minutes. Grant to Sabal, will you please attend the mission briefing in the Observation Lounge in 5 minutes?” With the requests laid out, he gathered a few things and headed towards the Lounge, crossing The Bridge and nodding to the Officer currently in charge, a seasoned Lieutenant.
He stopped to sign off on a few additional repairs that an Ensign stopped him for to look at, he signed them and entered the Lounge. The doors opened and he found his giant bird Security Chief, and long time friend, sitting immediately to the right of the ‘head seat’, as was accustomed in the CRV. First Officers were labeled as Counselors and Diplomatic Officers for a reason, and were there to offset the combat mentality of the CO’s. They were still 2nd in the chain of command, but took over as primary in most combat actions, as not many First Officers with the ‘diplomatic’ background had much combat experience. Colonel Grant smiled “Ah; Captain Zek’dyn, figured you’d be the first one here… What did you do, confiscate the use of a transporter to beam over?” his smiled broadened.
He set his PADD down at his seat, at the head of the table, and walked over to the replicator and retrieved a large CAFF “Anything?” he asked Captain Zek’dyn. Returning to his seat, with this drink (and the one for Zek should he want anything), he pulled out the chair and took a seat. “How goes the training? The FNG’s shaping up to be anything more then ‘cannon-fodder’?” He tried to keep his humor, but it was hard on everyone aboard to take on almost 50% replacement crew all across the board. “Well, your guys will be needed here on the next mission; guess we got some VIP’s to go check on and escort.” He easily referenced the on coming mission, but he knew it would fall on ship’s Security and Marines to do the grunt work on this one. He nodded as additional personnel began arriving for the meeting.
Having all of the Senior Staff there, they were still waiting for the head of Engineering to arrive. Chief Murkeye, obviously being the last to arrive, transported into the room, flanked by two unique chairs. Colonel Grant simply raised an eyebrow at this action, and looked over to Zek, the eyebrow still raised; hinting through body language only at the fact that Bob had done exactly that which he’d accused Zek of doing… Captain Zek’dyn simply chuckled… “Chief; how nice of you to join us.” Stated Colonel Grant, half sarcastically, half inquisitively. Chief Murkeye issued out the chairs, and then returned to his seat, two down from Zek, on the opposite side of the table, and looked over to Colonel Grant with those damnable eyes “Ok you can begin now.” Colonel Grant just sighed, scoffed, shook his head softly from side to side and activated the computer console that was on the wall behind them.
“Okay; seeming that we’ve been deemed ‘Ready for Active Duty’…” he softly mocked the statement with his fingers arched in ‘quotation’ marks “We’ve gotten new orders.” The console coming to life, it showed a planet on the far end of the Federation, in the newly colonized areas that were once ruled over by The Dominion during The Dominion War. “This planet, Alma 5, applied for citizenship within The Federation last year, supporting a humanoid species called the ‘Almata’s’; not overly aggressive, they’d carved out small boundaries around their home planet and have a couple small outposts on the surrounding moons and planets in their solar system.” The screen scanned to an overview, then back to a picture of an Almata.
They were bi-pedal beings, resembling humans in a way (2 arms, 2 legs), but their skin was a light purple, and had fiercely deep emerald eyes. They were an architectural and engineering species, graced with the ability to make wonderful structures and art, and had only developed warp technology 5 years earlier before The War; which required them to quickly surrender after their meager space fleet of 12 ships were annihilated by Dominion forces; their world became an occupied territory for the entire conflict. Occupied as their world may have been, the Almata’s are extraordinarily feral beings, and took to guerilla tactics to defend their homes; never defeating the Jem’hidar, but made holding their plant very costly. Wishing to join The Federation for both protection and for the ability to put their skills to use, both on ship design and other modifications they would have a field day with once they got their hands on them.
“Federation Diplomats made contact and have been discussing plans with them for several years, and things have been going well. They were not opposed to the technology level of The Federation, nor did they mind Starfleet staging ships in their space, however, when things generally seem too good to be true…” Colonel Grant didn’t need to finish. “The primary reason Starfleet has pushed so radically for this planet to gain acceptance is because the CRV is pushing for it too… both want to put bases their as staging areas for Fleet actions and for a ‘buffer’ for any invasions that come our way. Nothing to fancy, I know; pretty standard.” The screen continued to show pictures of the Almata’s and their level of technology, which is around what earth had at 2150ish; laser weapons, basic grav styles lifts and transports, etc. “Problem is, one of our Pioneer Teams that was scouting around one of their Military Bases disappeared; in addition, the Diplomatic Security Detail has broke contact and is no longer responding to hails; in addition, The Saber Class Starship that transported them was destroyed by an unknown source approximately 20 hrs ago. The stationed USS Harbrigner, an Ambassador Class Starship, is no longer answering hails either; but the ship is still on sensors.”
He knew Zek knew what was coming, and probably his new MCO “Our orders are to proceed at Maximum Speed, Investigate, Report and secure the Diplomatic Entourage. We’re directed to remember that these are future ‘Federation Citizens’ and were only a few months away from formal acceptance, so ‘caution’ is advised.” Not having much left, he looked around the room, “Questions?”
Location: Ready Room
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Post by Capt. Zek'dyn on Dec 14, 2009 2:42:55 GMT -6
Location: Briefing Room
Zek looked up when the door swished open and smiled at his friend “Ah; Captain Zek’dyn, figured you’d be the first one here… What did you do, confiscate the use of a transporter to beam over?” Sam’s smiled broadened. Zek chuckled “I’ll never tell my secrets, but bears don’t usually win the 10k in record time.”
Sam set his padd down at his seat, at the head of the table, and walked over to the replicator and retrieved a large CAFF “Anything?” Zek nodded “Sure, the same for me, double cream double sugar, you know the drill.” Sam grabbed the mugs when they materialized and headed back to the table. “How goes the training? The FNG’s shaping up to be anything more then ‘cannon-fodder’?” Zek chuckled “It’s getting along as well as can be expected, the new guys are fitting in well, so they can be upgraded to at least ‘meat shield’.” Zek smiled then added on more of a somber note, “A few of them are really young, never seen battle or the aftermath, and oh so eager to join or start a fight, cocky as hell. Were we really like that? Seems so long ago I can’t remember.” Zek shook his head and frowned as he picked at a spot on the table, deep in thought. 95% of his original staff had been that way, fresh out of the academy and ready to go, 40% had died, 20% were at Starfleet medical being treated for PTSD, 5% transferred, and most that were still on board did what was requested of them and well, but with a deadness in their eyes. “Damn-it” Zek tried in vain to rub out the tiny hole his claw had dug in his absentmindedness. “Well, your guys will be needed here on the next mission; guess we got some VIP’s to go check on and escort.” Zek nodded “Oh joy an escort mission… I’ll beef up training to prepare for ambushes and being boarded, we will be ready when the time comes.” Zek knew his crew could handle the mission, but some one the FNGs needed some more textbook beaten out of them.
Zek nodded to all the staff as they arrived, and sat waiting somewhat patently for the Chief Engineer to finally make an appearance. Zek heard the transporter beam before he saw it, a unique sound, or more of a vibration really that wasn’t picked up by normal human hearing. Zek focused on the fish as he beamed in, toting a couple of chairs behind him. Colonel Grant looked over to Zek with a raised eyebrow indicating the irony of the situation. Zek just chuckled, what else could you do? Bob dragged one of the chairs over to where Zek was sitting “Here Zek try this out, let me know if it works for you and I can make another for your office.” The chair appeared to be based off typical Skorr furniture design, Zek was impressed “Thanks chief” The chair was incredibly comfortable, Zek might just have to take Bob up on his offer to make another for his office. Zek was surprised at the unusually kind gesture from the creature; maybe Bob was coming around and actually trying to do things right, socially anyway? All thoughts of that disappeared when he climbed up into his newly designed chair and opened that big mouth “Ok you can begin now.” Zek just shook his head and pinched the area of skin in-between his eyes with his claws in exasperation.
Zek listened as the Colonel described their mission. Taking notes on his padd…
“Questions?” Zek looked up, “Has there been any communications from the Almata’s? And other then the Almata’s are there any other possible ‘suspects’ in the area?” Zek wanted to be prepared; their last mission Starfleet had nicely left out the information that Borg might be involved… So any forewarning from them would be appreciated.
Location: Briefing Room
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Post by Kael Giral'i on Dec 14, 2009 15:14:13 GMT -6
Location: Mess Hall Kael sat at a table, flipping idly through a padd of information regarding the repairs to her science systems. A cup of light blue colored juice sat in front of her, it was as near to paoleti juice she could get from the replicators. "Do you ever stop working?"She looked up to find Lt. Taylor standing there and responded, "Yes, I have taken some time off since we have been docked for repairs actually..." she recalled the uncomfortable conversation with the Colonel in the Science Lab. Afterward she had felt it might be in everyone's best interest to step back for a couple days and get her head on straight. "Funny, I don't remember seeing you out and about. What did you do, hole up in your quarters and read the whole time?""Did you need something?" Kael had spent little time with Nick, but she found him to be fairly arrogant and there was something else she didn't like about him, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. He pulled out the seat across from her, "Why yes, I'd love to join you."She simply watched him, waiting still for an answer to her question. "You know," he went on, "I don't think anyone here cares much for me. I'm not sure why that is. I think you all just haven't given me a chance, so I thought maybe I should start over." He extended his hand across the table towards her, "I'm Nick."Kael looked at his hand and then back up at his face without making a move to reciprocate the handshake. "Lt. Giral'i, although I hardly see the point in this, Lt. Taylor.""Ah, ah. Nick," he corrected her. "Nick. Call me Lt. Giral'i," Kael replied pointedly. "Now look..." he was cut off by the sound of the comm going off as Colonel Grant called them in for a briefing. She couldn't help but smirk a bit that the conversation would be cut short, "Guess that's us." Kael stood up, grabbed her cup and padd and headed for the door. Nick jumped up and hurried after her, "Wait up, we can walk together."She shook her head and muttered sarcastically under her breath, "mai'ra..."Minutes later the two entered the briefing room. Kael gave a polite nod to Colonel Grant and slipped into the seat next to Zek. Meanwhile, Nick took a seat across the table and settled in comfortably, looking far more relaxed than probably was becoming of any senior staff member. After the others had arrived, last of all Chief Bob (chairs in tow), the Colonel began the briefing on their new assignment. As Kael listened to the description of this planet she was reminded a bit of her own people. They had once requested Federation assistance with a plague on their planet, but things had not ended well. Many Lo'Ami harbored bad feelings towards Starfleet as a result and the incident only solidified their isolationist stance. She hoped this mission ended better. "Questions?"“Has there been any communications from the Almata’s? And other then the Almata’s are there any other possible ‘suspects’ in the area?”After the Colonel had answered Zek's question, she inquired, "Were the Almata's unified in the decision to pursue entrance into the Federation or is there the possibility a dissenting faction could be involved in this situation?" Location: Briefing Room OOC: Instead of doing this as two seperate posts this is a joint post for both the Kael and Nick charries.
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Post by Dr. Sabina Jackson on Dec 14, 2009 22:28:43 GMT -6
Location: Sickbay
Sabina finishes her work with not much time left to spare. She takes off her labcoat and leaves it in her office. Then she hurries to the meeting room.
When she enters, she notices most everyone is there already. She takes one of the available chairs and smiles around at everyone. "Seems like all is going well this time."
She doesn't get much chance for any responses, because the briefing starts. She listens, curious more about their interesting physiology than the problem at hand. She wanted to get her hands on any medical databases on this species, as she might have to treat some of them. However, she keeps silent for now, since her request isn't very important or urgent.
Location: Briefing room
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Post by Ahn Lau on Dec 14, 2009 23:01:32 GMT -6
Location: Marine training center
Ahn leaves her second in command in charge and leaves for the meeting. After a short turbolift ride, she gets off on the right deck (or at least she thought it was) and looks around. She finally notices the meeting room and slips in, hoping no one notices her being kinda late. She has a progress report, which she will give the Colonel before she leaves.
She listens to the meeting and glances around at her new crewmates, most of whom she hasn't met yet. The big guy with wings looks like what she'd expect a marine commander or security chief would 'typically' be. By process of ellimination, that meant he would probably be the security chief. She's also surprised by someone who looks like a fish with legs and arms, but she doesn't let her surprise show. She wondered what he did- it would be ironic if he was security chief rather than the big feathered bird guy.
She leans back in her chair. Aparrently, there'd be something exciting going on this mission. She grins, looking forward to having some fun.
Location: Briefing Room
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Brett Tyler
New Member
Cold Harbor Executive Officer
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Posts: 13
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Post by Brett Tyler on Dec 15, 2009 9:48:09 GMT -6
He arrive neither early nor late just about in the middle. He sat in the chair appropriate for his position. He simply observed everyone and listened as the briefing began. He had knowledge of this race both in culture and their pending status in to the Federation. To ‘Brett’ this was a standard mission, a simple investigation of the military. While senior staff asked their questions to the CO. He stood up and walked up to the terminal added a few visuals of the targeted subject. “Complements from the ‘The Institute’” He stated and sat back down adding nothing else. The images where surveillance pictures of prominent individuals, structures..... etc. Though knowledge of that fact is undisclosed and no 1 in this room aside from himself and possabily but unlikely the Colonel were aware. Simply on a need to know bases on his part; the images was to prepare them of who they are meeting. With additional aid to understand who the target subject was concerning. Post location records - Location Start - Deck 7, Main Sickbay.. Location Mid – The Decks between, Turbo Lift Location End – Deck 1, Command Deck, Observation Lounge..
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Post by Second Lieutenant Tam Grax on Dec 15, 2009 10:02:09 GMT -6
Two weeks in space dock and the time seem to fly by, at least for him. When he was not on duty, he spend as much time as he could with the lovely doctor, Sabina. He learning as much about her, just as she was learning things about him. Racial customs, personal likes and dislikes, etc
He was with Sabina having lunch when the call came in on both their communicators from the Colonel, to assemble in the meeting room in 5 minutes. He arced a brow and looked at Sabina "That doesn't give us much time to finish lunch" he commented dryly before getting up and tossing the rest of his meal in the recycle machine "May I escort you to the meeting, my dear doctor"? He asked in a gentlemanly manner and she accepted with a smile
They reached the meeting room just a few moments ahead of the Engineering Chief, Mr. Fish Murkeye. He took a seat next to Sabina and chuckled slightly at the humor between Grant and Murkeye, focusing on the screen the Colonel turned to and activated, listening to the Colonel as he spoke of a planet's inhabitants wishing to apply for citizenship. Looking at he inhabitants, he is almost reminded of humans dipped in grape juice.
His senses went on yellow alert when the Colonel revealed that a scouting team had disappeared, as did a diplomatic security team, suddenly breaking off all contact. A Saber class vessel destroyed by unknown assailants and the Harbrigner is no longer accepting hails but is currently on sensors
He gave a bit of a nod when the Colonel ticked off our objectives. When he asked for questions, he glanced toward Zek as he pretty much asked what he had wondered "My only question is that who is in the area or close enough to destroy the Saber class and perhaps kidnap anyone whom with we lost contact" He asked, turning back toward the Colonel
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Post by Samuel J. Grant on Dec 15, 2009 19:41:19 GMT -6
Location: Observation Lounge
Time Note: Zek and Grant’s banter before the briefing
“No, I don’t think we were ever that young in the first place Zek.” Colonel Grant smiled, and then nodded slowly, “Can you believe it, now WE are considered to be the ‘old men’ and ‘veterans’… The War took a lot out of us, and a lot away from us.” He didn’t even comment on the damage to the desk Zek caused, Sam couldn’t blame him, and felt the same way; but he just didn’t have the nails to do the damage with. He sipped at his drink as everyone began to arrive.
Time Note: After the conclusion of the briefing
Colonel Grant looked around the room, and then looked back at Captain Zek’dyn, who asked the first question, which didn’t surprise him. “Has there been any communications from the Almata’s?” Colonel Grant shook his head, “No, none; which is half the problem and cause for worry I’m afraid.” Using a graphic from Lt. Tyler’s briefing, he pointed back to the plant itself. “Their sets are receiving, but we’re not getting any answers… It’s not that their blocking us; they just doesn’t seem to be ‘anybody home’.” Which Colonel Grant found himself wondering, which was worse… “And other then the Almata’s are there any other possible ‘suspects’ in the area?” Colonel Grant shrugged his shoulders, “Take your pick, Captain. Everyone that knows anything about military tactics knows exactly why that solar system is so important; Romulans, Cardassians…” a name he said with obvious relish and pain “… The Dominion… Hell, The Klingons could even be involved, trying to re-cut their Empire out of the catastrophe that has befallen it. Information is very sketchy, to say the least.”
Colonel Grant looked over to Lt. Giral’i, who he was only half surprised to ask a question, but a good question none the less; he found himself happy that she was still aboard, and decided to keep ‘the uniform on’. "Were the Almata's unified in the decision to pursue entrance into the Federation or is there the possibility a dissenting faction could be involved in this situation?" Grant sighed, and leaned back in his chair “The political answer is ‘yes’, they were…” He paused a moment, then continued “From what I’ve been able to discern, and with Lt. Tyler’s help from both our sources, The Almata’s as a people are very interested in the growth potential of becoming part of The Federation. However, they are also concerned about not about the benefits that membership brings, but the new list of enemies it brings as well; as ‘my allies enemy is my enemy’. With the recent War, and their own subjugation during it, they became a little ‘shell shocked’.” He activated a few displays and other information on the screen “One of their big requests was military aid and weaponry…” he could see the look on some of the officers faces, and put his hands up in a placating manner to allow him a minute to explain “Obviously, we don’t just hand over weapons, but we did agree to help better train their military to better help protect themselves, playing on their strengths.”
The console screen brought up another picture of a male Almata, standing at about 2.5 meters (6 ½ feet) high, which was average height for both males and females, they weight just under 70 kilos (around 150 lbs) on average as well. “Pound for pound, they’re no match for even humans in hand-to-hand combat; a good right cross will shatter their bones as easily as dropping a glass cup; but their agility is quick enough to even make even a computer sensor second guess itself. That being the case, they prefer quick ‘hit-and-run’ and covert tactics, making them lethal stealth teams and infiltrators, in turn, this military practice was being refined by some our best strike teams. Plus, they were slowly being trained with newer weaponry, but even they preferred their own, and in some cases, ‘antiquated’ weapons.”
“There was no ‘formal’ complaint, or ‘opposition party’ that The Federation, or CRV HQ was aware of, nor any indication that there were any problems. As far as The Federation Counsel was concerned, in 90 days, they were going to be our newest addition.” Colonel Grant adjusted his gaze and looked upon his Tactical Officer, Lt. Grax "My only question is that who is in the area or close enough to destroy the Saber class and perhaps kidnap anyone whom with we lost contact." Grant shrugged again “Unfortunately, your guess is as good as mine. Granted, The Saber class vessels are not ‘ships of the line’ and intended for heavy fleet actions, but they’re not shuttles either; it seems odd one would simply ‘blow up’ without an exchange of fire or any distress calls…” He looked around the room again, “Any more questions?”
Location: Observation Lounge
OOC Note:
I love that my “Questions?” prompt actually brought questions!!!!! It helps when other’s help bring the story alive, and make it more in depth. Granted, as the CO/GM, it’s my duty to make the stories and the adventures, but it’s always fun when you, the SIMMER, make me have to think and work harder, and it benefits us all to make the story more in depth and more realistic. *cheer*
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