<<Stardate: 47307.16- 17:07>>

<<Main Shuttlebay>>

Commander Epic Terrakian (most of the crew had already begun addressing him as `Captain') strode crisply across the highly polished floors of the Shuttlebay. His black uniform was as crisp as his attitude, the gold pips and commbadge almost aglow. His boots, which rose to his knees, were even more polished than the floors. It had a decidedly menacing look and was almost completely in violation of Starfleet spec.

"Attennnnnnntion!", the Lt. Major called. Fourteen men snapped to rigid attention. The synchronous clapping of their heels gave Epic a momentary shudder. They were perfect. Major Brinn may be a major pain, but she knew her business.

"Sound off!", Brinn howled in the echoing Shuttlebay. Epic listened as one after another recited their rank and name. Each stared straight ahead and never wavered in their rigidity. It occurred to Epic then, why the Marines were so full of pride and arrogance. Because they earned it.

Terrakian could feel their swelling pride as an ambient sound. They were just as aware of their perfection as any observer would be. He wondered distractedly how many hours of grueling training were required to produce soldiers like these. He stood before them, standing straight, his hands clasped behind his back.

"My name is Epic Terrakian and I am the Acting Captain of the Grail until this ship is recalled or a promotion is offered by Starfleet. I wear the rank of Commander and will be addressed as `Commander'."

Not a waver, not a blink, from any of them.

"You have all been chosen personally by the Lieutenant Major to form the core of a Special Ops platoon. Major Brinn will delegate your responsibilities as need arises and you will answer to her before you answer to me."

The general ambient feeling Epic got from the troop suggested that that was just fine by them. Epic wasn't a Marine. They would only respect a Marine.

"However, you have all been resuscitated for a specific task that I have yet to share with the Major because of its sensitivity."

Athalya Anne's eyebrow arched subtly, but she maintained her `parade rest'.

"Because of an unforeseen circumstance, which is on report and I recommend you all read, this ship is 2873 light years from Earth. We are located approximately 4 light years Galactic East of the accepted boundaries of the Beta Quadrant. We are approximately 30 light years Galactic North of the accepted boundaries of Romulan space."

Still, not a ripple. Not a flutter.

"The circumstances that drew us here were dramatic. It is my expectation that the Romulans will also respond to this circumstance. This ship is neither in Federation Space, nor Romulan Space. Neither is it in the Neutral Zone."

Epic let them all leap to conclusions before he continued, but they remained rigid.

"My point: If and when we encounter the Romulans, and I fully anticipate that we will, even if I have to instigate such an encounter...."

Some of them actually looked at him when he said that.

".... We will encounter them without the rights and respects granted by the Treaty of Algeron established in 2160. We can expect that they will be combative. I certainly hope so."

Some of them were grinning.

"It is my intention to engage and defeat a Warbird class Romulan spacecraft. It is also my intention to secure an operational Cloaking Device from said spacecraft for use on this vessel."

A young man, a corporal, took one measured step forward and came to attention. "Lt. Major. Permission to address the Commander."

Athalya Anne nodded once. The man spoke.

"Sir! That would be a direct violation of the Treaty of Algeron and could be constituted as an Act of War. Sir!" Then, the corporal stepped back into line.

All faces regarded the Commander with expectation. Epic took the time to look at all of them as individuals. "That is correct, Corporal. That is why, with the completion of such a mission, we will maintain a `Scorched Earth' modus operandii."

They all fell back into their impassive stance, each completely comfortable with the Commanders directive. They were Marines. If the Commander wanted `Scorched Earth', they would give it to him. No evidence. No survivors.

"However, the boarding and securing of a Romulan Warbird is not the work of only 14 soldiers. You all will be the task force that secures the Cloaking Device, with exceptions made by the Major. There will also be a pair of Starfleet Engineers assigned to your force for the obvious reasons. Those Engineers have not yet been selected, but will be within

24 hours."

Some of them grimaced at the prospect of having to baby-sit a pair Starfleet mechanics, but, they remained silent.

"That is why you have been resuscitated, and I expect all your time to be spent in study and training. Know your enemy, Marines. Study their crafts and study their tactics. Study their biologies. Know your enemy."

Epic turned to Athalya Anne Brinn and gave her a simple nod.

"Dismissed!", she hollered, and the soldiers obediently filed out of the Shuttlebay. All save the Major herself.

She placed her hands on her hips and turned to Epic. And from the look in her eyes, Epic determined that all the things he said met with her approval. Approval, Hades! She looked like she wanted to fight right now.

Epic waited for her to either speak, or dismiss herself.