Unity – An Observer's Perspective
by Colonel James Darson
Post Details
ON:
Darson moved amongst the Marines, watching dispassionately as they went through their PT exercises. He was more focused on the PADD in his hand, one that detailed the various going ons aboard the station that he had left, direct from his agent in place aboard.
He flicked through the various reports. Of course the most concerning were the bombings that had taken place last night. He gave a mental shake of his head as he examined the specifics more carefully. Owing to the magnitude of the blasts, and their location, it was a freaking miracle that only injuries had resulted.
Besides his one Marine of course.
He gave a sigh as he brought up the deceased Corporal’s service jacket. He gazed at the young face of the Marine and sighed again. He was too young…much much too young. But, such was War. Darson had seen firsthand the horrors of frontline combat, and he supposed he could be comforted by the fact that the corporal’s death had been quick…little comfort that it was.
He tapped out on the PADD a request for a commendation to be awarded posthumously to the dead Marine, and forwarded it to Colonel Wright, 9th Division CO.
That done, he turned his attention back to the incident itself. It was obvious even to the untrained eye that things were rapidly spiraling out of control. Terrorism from rouge groups notwithstanding, the various factions on the station had to be brought into line.
The ones suspected behind the attacks were the Maquis. Darson was concerned about how they had gotten on the station, but even more concerned about what they had planned for the station. Suicide bombings already done, they had proved to whomever was paying attention that they had no qualms about getting their hands dirty. He had reexamined the reports from the station, and there was nothing to suggest who else was involved other than the traitorous science officer and the dead bombers.
He flicked to a new series of reports of general events on the station, of which there were several of note. Apparently, a veteran Marine by the name of Wayne Bradshaw had set up shop on the station. He checked the appended service jacket and nodded to himself. A retired Major General, as well as the owner of a PMC. Already the cogs were turning inside Darson’s head on how to turn this to his advantage. He made a mental note to make an appointment with him when he returned.
Mr. Bradshaw would probably turn out to be a far greater asset to him than Weitzer was…with less cultivation required too. One look at the man’s record, and he instinctively knew that just his position and a heaping pile of Latinum or Credits would get him the results he desired.
More flicking as he came across a group of Marines enlisted men doing synchronized push-ups, while being yelled at by a hard-edged and uncompromising Staff Sergeant. The NCO looked up and gave a brief salute. Darson waved a hand for him to carry on and moved on to the next location without a word. He arrived at the sparring area, non-holographic. Just an ordinary ring.
He took up a position to watch at the back, moving unnoticed through the throngs of both Starfleet and Klingon personnel, all of them watching the strongest fighters duking it out for dominance.
The cloak furled around his legs as he leaned up against the wall and resumed his reading.
One if the biggest things he was concerned about was the factions on board. Cardassians, Romulans and Klingons, all competing over a station that they had no right to compete over in the first place. They were growing overconfident, and making bolder and bolder moves. With the arrival of the Romulan Warbird among other things, problems were quite literally growing.
He chuckled to himself as he read about the incident with Gabriel assaulting Lt. Tan and being locked up in the brig. It was things like that that made his day. His good mood though faded as he continued reading. Apparently, Admiral R'vek Tr'Khellian, to whom Isha was closely related, had received a transmission from Deep Space 5, and had in fact arrived on the Warbird.
Mystified, Darson searched back through the files and tried to find where the transmission had come from. His surveillance devices in the Embassies had picked up their fair share of incriminating evidence, but nothing that related to what would have brought the Admiral to the station.
Darson scanned back through the surveillance on Raedheol and found only one discrepancy. A couple of days ago, he had met someone on the main promenade. He didn’t know who, but he had a feeling that a quick check of the surveillance footage from the shops on the promenade would reveal much.
The one remaining issue of note head to do with the abandoned Cardassian Freighters that had been found by the fighter patrol. Although they were abandoned, and all indications held that they had been attacked by Starfleet Vessels, alarm bells were going off in his head that this was something else. Maybe something to do with the Maquis.
But…he was off the station for the moment, and as much as he wanted to be back there maintaining control of the situation, he had a couple of jobs to do…and the faster he did them, the sooner he could go back and take over. In the meantime, he would have to trust in Commander Davies, Commander Gabriel, Lt. Wallace and Captain Flynn.
He paused as he considered that.
“Let’s finish this fast, very fast,” he thought mentally to himself as he watched the Klingon soldier pick up a Marine and bodily toss him out of the ring. He moved towards them and got ready to watch the next fight as he checked the chronometer in his helmet. They would arrive at the planet within the hour.
“Very, very, very fast,” he thought to himself.
OFF:
Lt. Col. James Darson
Marine Commanding Officer
6th Combined Operations Group
by Colonel James Darson
Post Details
| Title | An Observer's Perspective | |
| Mission | Unity | |
| Author(s) | Colonel James Darson | |
| Posted | Sun Feb 07, 2010 @ 8:20pm | |
| Location | Deep Space - Normandy Class Carrier "U.S.S. Nimitz" | |
| Timeline | SD 17 - 0800 |
Darson moved amongst the Marines, watching dispassionately as they went through their PT exercises. He was more focused on the PADD in his hand, one that detailed the various going ons aboard the station that he had left, direct from his agent in place aboard.
He flicked through the various reports. Of course the most concerning were the bombings that had taken place last night. He gave a mental shake of his head as he examined the specifics more carefully. Owing to the magnitude of the blasts, and their location, it was a freaking miracle that only injuries had resulted.
Besides his one Marine of course.
He gave a sigh as he brought up the deceased Corporal’s service jacket. He gazed at the young face of the Marine and sighed again. He was too young…much much too young. But, such was War. Darson had seen firsthand the horrors of frontline combat, and he supposed he could be comforted by the fact that the corporal’s death had been quick…little comfort that it was.
He tapped out on the PADD a request for a commendation to be awarded posthumously to the dead Marine, and forwarded it to Colonel Wright, 9th Division CO.
That done, he turned his attention back to the incident itself. It was obvious even to the untrained eye that things were rapidly spiraling out of control. Terrorism from rouge groups notwithstanding, the various factions on the station had to be brought into line.
The ones suspected behind the attacks were the Maquis. Darson was concerned about how they had gotten on the station, but even more concerned about what they had planned for the station. Suicide bombings already done, they had proved to whomever was paying attention that they had no qualms about getting their hands dirty. He had reexamined the reports from the station, and there was nothing to suggest who else was involved other than the traitorous science officer and the dead bombers.
He flicked to a new series of reports of general events on the station, of which there were several of note. Apparently, a veteran Marine by the name of Wayne Bradshaw had set up shop on the station. He checked the appended service jacket and nodded to himself. A retired Major General, as well as the owner of a PMC. Already the cogs were turning inside Darson’s head on how to turn this to his advantage. He made a mental note to make an appointment with him when he returned.
Mr. Bradshaw would probably turn out to be a far greater asset to him than Weitzer was…with less cultivation required too. One look at the man’s record, and he instinctively knew that just his position and a heaping pile of Latinum or Credits would get him the results he desired.
More flicking as he came across a group of Marines enlisted men doing synchronized push-ups, while being yelled at by a hard-edged and uncompromising Staff Sergeant. The NCO looked up and gave a brief salute. Darson waved a hand for him to carry on and moved on to the next location without a word. He arrived at the sparring area, non-holographic. Just an ordinary ring.
He took up a position to watch at the back, moving unnoticed through the throngs of both Starfleet and Klingon personnel, all of them watching the strongest fighters duking it out for dominance.
The cloak furled around his legs as he leaned up against the wall and resumed his reading.
One if the biggest things he was concerned about was the factions on board. Cardassians, Romulans and Klingons, all competing over a station that they had no right to compete over in the first place. They were growing overconfident, and making bolder and bolder moves. With the arrival of the Romulan Warbird among other things, problems were quite literally growing.
He chuckled to himself as he read about the incident with Gabriel assaulting Lt. Tan and being locked up in the brig. It was things like that that made his day. His good mood though faded as he continued reading. Apparently, Admiral R'vek Tr'Khellian, to whom Isha was closely related, had received a transmission from Deep Space 5, and had in fact arrived on the Warbird.
Mystified, Darson searched back through the files and tried to find where the transmission had come from. His surveillance devices in the Embassies had picked up their fair share of incriminating evidence, but nothing that related to what would have brought the Admiral to the station.
Darson scanned back through the surveillance on Raedheol and found only one discrepancy. A couple of days ago, he had met someone on the main promenade. He didn’t know who, but he had a feeling that a quick check of the surveillance footage from the shops on the promenade would reveal much.
The one remaining issue of note head to do with the abandoned Cardassian Freighters that had been found by the fighter patrol. Although they were abandoned, and all indications held that they had been attacked by Starfleet Vessels, alarm bells were going off in his head that this was something else. Maybe something to do with the Maquis.
But…he was off the station for the moment, and as much as he wanted to be back there maintaining control of the situation, he had a couple of jobs to do…and the faster he did them, the sooner he could go back and take over. In the meantime, he would have to trust in Commander Davies, Commander Gabriel, Lt. Wallace and Captain Flynn.
He paused as he considered that.
“Let’s finish this fast, very fast,” he thought mentally to himself as he watched the Klingon soldier pick up a Marine and bodily toss him out of the ring. He moved towards them and got ready to watch the next fight as he checked the chronometer in his helmet. They would arrive at the planet within the hour.
“Very, very, very fast,” he thought to himself.
OFF:
Lt. Col. James Darson
Marine Commanding Officer
6th Combined Operations Group