"Origins: Day Three"
The following events take place one week ago on Day Three between 0900 hours and 1200 hours…
Nicholas was sat in a local bar in San Francisco wondering exactly how he was going to recruit his final member. This individual was incredibly skilled as a tactician but he knew from the profile that the likeliness of them wanting to join an elite Starfleet Special Forces Intelligence team was small to none; his record showed on the level plain and simple marine work. No frills. He sighed and swigged at his Irish coffee. Yes it was a little early but he wasn't on duty and he felt like it; it wasn't a problem just a personal choice. He was reading a news bulletin from the Special Forces Press Office which was informing him that the Romulan War was causing severe stress to forces; luckily Intel was reporting that this was on both sides. He deleted the information and tossed the PADD down and watched as the backup disk reloaded the Federation News Network front page. Taking another swig from his coffee he stroked his stubble, ran his fingers through his unkempt hair and sighed, he was getting old and chasing down team members wasn't as easy as it used to be.
He believed in the members that he had recruited so far however, they'd arrive. He was certain of it. He leaned back in the chair and looked up at nothing in particular wondering just exactly what the headquarters on Starbase Unity would be like, the equipment they'd be assigned and what the first assignment would be; he imagined it would be related to those damned Romulans. He gritted his teeth at the mere thought of them. during the last war with the Romulans he lost friends, family and nearly his own life and for that he had never forgiven them and was looking forward very much to get his revenge… although he'd have to keep a cool head simply because his new team was about stealth; not running in and killing every damned green-blooded snake he could find.
He downed the rest of his alcoholic coffee and ordered another one as the horrific memories came flooding back to him…
…"Listen up team, we're heading down to Romulus, Sector 15a, two clicks from that is an underground weapons bunker which Intel has uncovered to be hostile and a major supplier. Our mission is to destroy it quickly and quietly. The Trident will be entering atmosphere and we'll be HALO jumping down to the surface; we'll be moving cross-country to the location, destroying it and everyone inside and getting out – no survivors. Special Forces Command has specifically instructed us to use these damned Romulan weapons so pass 'em out, get kitted out and we'll be at the airlock in two hours to jump" he said nodding to the ODA and heading off to prepare himself for the mission in hand…
…Plasma bolts were being fired left; right and centre as the fire fight between the Romulan sentries were engaging the ODA. He watched as the Romulans swarmed the corridor and flanked the team, Nicholas watched in horror as this ambush was killing off his men. Around him time slowed as bodies hit the floor. He let out a primal yell and jumped across the corridor throwing a plasma grenade down the corridor and hit the floor next to the lifeless body of his executive and friend. He fought back the pain as the explosion filled the small space and then the room fell silent. He was beaten, battered and alone and someone somewhere had shopped them. Sending them in like bloody lambs to the slaughter…
…Nicholas was numb, dead inside at the horror he had just been a part of. He was an experienced combat soldier, he had seen friends and comrades fall in the line of duty but this was different. The sentry was waiting for them; they knew they were coming and now there was just him left to finish this mission and stick it to the green-blooded bastards. Heading into the main chamber he set the explosives as the mission objective stated and then hurried outside for the pick up. As he was engulfed in blue light and transported back the entire facility lit up the skies as his friends were buried in the rubble. He hated the Romulans for what they had done, he hated whoever had shopped them as well… he would find them; he would make them pay…
Nicholas snapped back to life as he sighed again and downed the entire alcoholic coffee in one. The waitress looked at him with some surprise and he merely smirked. He had one last team member to recruit; it would take a while to convince them as well so checking his chronometer decided it was best to make a move. This time when fighting the Romulans his team was not going to be a sacrifice.
Master Sergeant Nicholas "The Maverick" Angel
Division Delta Unit Commander
Starfleet Special Forces Intelligence
1st Task Force, Starbase Unity