Beg, Steal or Borrow – MP Briefing
by Colonel James Darson
Post Details
ON:
Second Lieutenant David Fawer stood in front of the assembled platoon of Marines inside one of the many briefing rooms in the compound and cleared his throat. There was a tense mood in the room, which was to be expected after everything that had happened over the last couple of hours.
“Ok Marines,” he said in a strong voice, “listen up. We’ve got confirmed intelligence that the Romulans sitting right off the station are going to attack any minute now. The Major has ordered every sensitive location locked down and fortified, as well as ordering all essential systems be inspected. However, we have a special task. We have been assigned to protection duty for the Romulan Embassy on the station. They have little to no security of their own, and with the Romulans making such a blatant attack, there is going to undoubtedly be some backlash.”
He keyed up a schematic of the station, and zoomed in on the Embassy, “The Consulate is located here, Deck 60, Section 46 – Subsection Charlie. There are two viable entrances…one is here, the main doors. The second is located inside the Ambassador’s apartment, to primarily be used as an escape tunnel.”
One of the Marines raised his hand, and Fawer indicated that he could speak, “Sir, I don’t see anything of the sort on the schematics…are we sure that there is a passage there?”
Fawer nodded, “Good question Corporal. Yes, the passage doesn’t show up on the schematics, but I have reliable intelligence that it does exist…from Major Darson himself …so I don’t doubt the veracity of it, and neither should you.”
As the Corporal nodded, another Marine raised a hand, this one a young female private, “Sir, what kind of resistance should we be expecting?”
“Heavy,” Fawer said gravely, “It will only be a matter of time before word gets through that it was the Romulans that attacked. After that, it will be Madrigal IX all over again...you all remember the embassy bombings. The station’s populace is going to be scared. And scared people will do very stupid things. And by stupid things, I mean ‘grab torches and pitchforks’. I’m anticipating a riot at the very least.”
The squad Sergeant raised his hand and spoke, “What is our plan of action sir?”
Fawer turned back to the LCARS panel, “Alright…here’s what we’re going to do. The Consulate is adjacent to hallway 46-Charlie-3. Two directions to come from. Red squad will divide into fire teams and each take one of the direction. Blue squad will take up position inside the Consulate, to cover and seal off the rear entrance and provide close support to Red Squad.”
“I want you to set up emplacements here and here,” he said, indicating them on the schematic, “loadouts are as such: Riot Control gear, soft weapons…backup hard weapons, but only loaded with LTL ammunition. I remind you that you’ll be going up against members of this station’s populace. We don’t want to hurt them.”
A growl came from the back of the room, and a hulking Klingon Sergeant stood up, “Why bother? Why must we protect these Romulan Ha'DIbaH? They have undoubtedly been colluding with their brethren in the ships out there, plotting against us! Not only should we just let those conniving bIHnuch get exactly what they deserve, but we should take them into custody and make an example out of them!
A deathly hush fell over the assembled Marines. Even for a Klingon, those were bold words…and the distinct lack of the ‘sir’ qualifier in the sentence amounted to borderline insubordination, but considering the distinctly hierarchical pack mentality among the Marines, it was also a subtle challenge to Lt. Fawer’s leadership.
David’s mouth hardened into a grim line and said in a barely calm voice, “We will protect the Romulans because it is our job. Because we have been given orders. I don’t care which reason suits you best, take your pick. You forget Sergeant ,” he put a delicate stress on the rank, “that it is our job to protect and defend…we do not discriminate against members of any species. So you sit down and be at ease, for I will give no second chances. If I hear you speak out of turn about this again, I will relieve you of duty, confine you to your bunk, and so help me I’ll have you cleaning the head every day for the next 6 months. Am I clear, Sergeant?”
All eyes were on the Klingon, and for a second, it looked like he was going to storm out of the room. But then he lowered his eyes in an appropriate gesture of submission and said as he sat down in as much of a sulking tone as a Klingon could muster, “Yes sir…I understand, sir.”
As he sat down Fawer cast his eyes over the assembled platoon, “All of you…never forget exactly what it is that we fight for. I understand that some of you do have doubts about this mission, but remember that it is for the greater good. Now then, I want you to get out there and secure that Embassy…and I want to get through this day with no fatalities…on anybody’s side. Stay calm, stay cool, and remember your training. Semper Fi Marines!”
As they responded in unison with a mostly energetic “Oohrah!” and filed out. As he watched them go, Fawer felt a small worrying sensation lurking in the back of this mind. He couldn’t identify exactly what he was worrying about, but his soldier’s intuition had never steered him wrong before, and now it was telling him that something was indeed going to go wrong.
OFF:
2nd Lt. Fawer and Marines
NPC'd by Darson
by Colonel James Darson
Post Details
| Title | MP Briefing | |
| Mission | Beg, Steal or Borrow | |
| Author(s) | Colonel James Darson | |
| Posted | Wed Mar 25, 2009 @ 3:36am | |
| Location | Deck 72 - Marine Complex | |
| Timeline | SD8 - 1345 |
Second Lieutenant David Fawer stood in front of the assembled platoon of Marines inside one of the many briefing rooms in the compound and cleared his throat. There was a tense mood in the room, which was to be expected after everything that had happened over the last couple of hours.
“Ok Marines,” he said in a strong voice, “listen up. We’ve got confirmed intelligence that the Romulans sitting right off the station are going to attack any minute now. The Major has ordered every sensitive location locked down and fortified, as well as ordering all essential systems be inspected. However, we have a special task. We have been assigned to protection duty for the Romulan Embassy on the station. They have little to no security of their own, and with the Romulans making such a blatant attack, there is going to undoubtedly be some backlash.”
He keyed up a schematic of the station, and zoomed in on the Embassy, “The Consulate is located here, Deck 60, Section 46 – Subsection Charlie. There are two viable entrances…one is here, the main doors. The second is located inside the Ambassador’s apartment, to primarily be used as an escape tunnel.”
One of the Marines raised his hand, and Fawer indicated that he could speak, “Sir, I don’t see anything of the sort on the schematics…are we sure that there is a passage there?”
Fawer nodded, “Good question Corporal. Yes, the passage doesn’t show up on the schematics, but I have reliable intelligence that it does exist…from Major Darson himself …so I don’t doubt the veracity of it, and neither should you.”
As the Corporal nodded, another Marine raised a hand, this one a young female private, “Sir, what kind of resistance should we be expecting?”
“Heavy,” Fawer said gravely, “It will only be a matter of time before word gets through that it was the Romulans that attacked. After that, it will be Madrigal IX all over again...you all remember the embassy bombings. The station’s populace is going to be scared. And scared people will do very stupid things. And by stupid things, I mean ‘grab torches and pitchforks’. I’m anticipating a riot at the very least.”
The squad Sergeant raised his hand and spoke, “What is our plan of action sir?”
Fawer turned back to the LCARS panel, “Alright…here’s what we’re going to do. The Consulate is adjacent to hallway 46-Charlie-3. Two directions to come from. Red squad will divide into fire teams and each take one of the direction. Blue squad will take up position inside the Consulate, to cover and seal off the rear entrance and provide close support to Red Squad.”
“I want you to set up emplacements here and here,” he said, indicating them on the schematic, “loadouts are as such: Riot Control gear, soft weapons…backup hard weapons, but only loaded with LTL ammunition. I remind you that you’ll be going up against members of this station’s populace. We don’t want to hurt them.”
A growl came from the back of the room, and a hulking Klingon Sergeant stood up, “Why bother? Why must we protect these Romulan Ha'DIbaH? They have undoubtedly been colluding with their brethren in the ships out there, plotting against us! Not only should we just let those conniving bIHnuch get exactly what they deserve, but we should take them into custody and make an example out of them!
A deathly hush fell over the assembled Marines. Even for a Klingon, those were bold words…and the distinct lack of the ‘sir’ qualifier in the sentence amounted to borderline insubordination, but considering the distinctly hierarchical pack mentality among the Marines, it was also a subtle challenge to Lt. Fawer’s leadership.
David’s mouth hardened into a grim line and said in a barely calm voice, “We will protect the Romulans because it is our job. Because we have been given orders. I don’t care which reason suits you best, take your pick. You forget Sergeant ,” he put a delicate stress on the rank, “that it is our job to protect and defend…we do not discriminate against members of any species. So you sit down and be at ease, for I will give no second chances. If I hear you speak out of turn about this again, I will relieve you of duty, confine you to your bunk, and so help me I’ll have you cleaning the head every day for the next 6 months. Am I clear, Sergeant?”
All eyes were on the Klingon, and for a second, it looked like he was going to storm out of the room. But then he lowered his eyes in an appropriate gesture of submission and said as he sat down in as much of a sulking tone as a Klingon could muster, “Yes sir…I understand, sir.”
As he sat down Fawer cast his eyes over the assembled platoon, “All of you…never forget exactly what it is that we fight for. I understand that some of you do have doubts about this mission, but remember that it is for the greater good. Now then, I want you to get out there and secure that Embassy…and I want to get through this day with no fatalities…on anybody’s side. Stay calm, stay cool, and remember your training. Semper Fi Marines!”
As they responded in unison with a mostly energetic “Oohrah!” and filed out. As he watched them go, Fawer felt a small worrying sensation lurking in the back of this mind. He couldn’t identify exactly what he was worrying about, but his soldier’s intuition had never steered him wrong before, and now it was telling him that something was indeed going to go wrong.
OFF:
2nd Lt. Fawer and Marines
NPC'd by Darson