Dawn Of The Federation Book I : Tomorrow Never KnowsChapter 14: Odds, Ends And Beginnings free porn video

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"Please come aboard our ship," T'Pol said, once the initial shock had subsided. She registered the accepting nods of Jannar and Depac and the connection was severed. Pushing a com button on Hoshi's console, she ordered: "Bridge to sickbay. Subcommander Soval, join us at airlock 7." the Vulcan left for the turbo-lift and without needing any order to do so Commander Tucker followed her.

"Guess, I have the bridge again," Malcolm quipped when they were gone. He got a dirty look from Hoshi for that.

When T'Pol arrived at the airlock, walking side by side with her mate, Soval was already there and he seemed to know already that something important had happened.

"You both appear to be troubled," he stated the obvious - a talent that all Vulcans possessed.

"We might have found them," T'Pol answered cryptically, knowing that Soval would figure out the rest after so many mind-melds during their rehabilitation.

"You say that there is another ship with exactly the same signature?" Jannar, the council member of the arboreals, asked, slowly stroking his chin as the group of people sat in the captain's mess.

"If our suspicion is correct and you check their plasma decay rate, you'll notice a difference," Trip explained. "After all that ship is more than a century old."

Seeing the bewildered looks on the faces of the Xindi, Trip knew that he probably made as much sense to them as a hopeless drunk.

"Is this again a matter of time travel?" Depac, the representative of the Xindi-Primates, asked.

"In a way; it happened when we came to the subspace corridor Degra had told us about. The Kovalaans took exception to our presence," Trip began and recalled the whole incident that led to the existence of the second Enterprise, the one that might still be out there.

Archer and Shran stood on the bridge of Columbia, both clad in sand-colored uniforms

"Ensign Hartman, you're driving," Archer ordered. "Barring, you have the con."

Archer left the bridge, with Shran and Hartman in tow. "Are the MACO's ready?" he asked, once they were inside the turbo-lift.

"They are already waiting in the launch bay," Shran answered with a nod. "Luggage and weapons have already been stored. We can complete the camouflage on the way down."

"That's good. Since you're the most experienced in fighting Vulcans you'll command the operation, Shran. Major Talcin has agreed to it."

"Agreed," Shran accepted as they entered the launch bay.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let's go through some of the things that await us down there," Jon explained, holding up a pocket-sized leather bag. "Each one of you grabs one of those bags. They contain small metal pellets. If you see a glittering effect on a wall down there – that's a gallicite deposit. Take a pellet and throw it at the wall to discharge the static electricity or you might end up dead."

"Won't that give away our position?" Major Talcin inquired.

"That's why we're using small pellets. They make it look like a natural discharge, caused by a small insect or desert bat. What do we have for weapons, Major?"

"We've decided to use crossbows," the MACO platoon leader explained. "That will give us the advantage of having ranged weapons against their lirpas. My men also carry hira-shuriken."

"What's that?" Shran asked.

"Throwing stars," Talcin answered and handed both Archer and Shran such an object.

"You humans have cruel weapons," Shran remarked after inspecting the small 4-bladed metal projectile.

"Says the man, who's carrying a very well sharpened Ushaan-tor," Archer said with a sarcastic chuckle. "What about melée combat, Major?"

"We've left that to each soldiers preference. Some carry nunchaku others have daggers or batons."

"Okay," Captain Archer said and turned to address the soldiers. "As you all know, there's no modern technology that works down there. You probably got that already from the somewhat quaint selection of weaponry. That means we have no scanners whatsoever and have to rely on the good ol' Mark-II Eyeball. Make sure you all wear your sunglasses; the glare is pretty bad down there. Captain Shran will command this mission. Judging by the sophistication of his camouflage, he'll be the guy you won't see down there."

Amusement spread among the soldiers.

"So let's go through the quick check list," he continued once the amusement had died down, mainly because of a stern glare from Major Talcin. "We'll be the first to do a military parachute drop in decades and we're definitely the first to do it on Vulcan. Due to the thinner atmosphere and higher gravity the 'chutes have to be huge. That's why we'll jump in intervals of 30 seconds, while the shuttle circles 5.000 meters above the ground. That's as low as we can go without hitting the natural dampening field."

John paced slowly, while delivering his speech. This operation would be the most unusual in recent history, considering that it used methods and weapons, which were out of style since the last century, or – as the Vulcans would call it – last week.

"Due to the long interval between jumps, we'll land spread out over a large area. We'll meet one hour after the drop at the given coordinates. The parachutes are to be simply abandoned. The next sand fire will take care of them. Any questions?"

None came.

"Let's get the show on the road," Archer ordered and indicated them to board the shuttle.

"Centurio Tavrus, the Praetor will now see you."

With long steps, Centurio Tavrus, who once was Major Talok, walked into the huge chamber of Romulus' most powerful leader.

"Jolan tru, Praetor, I come to serve."

"Jolan tru, Centurio. I see you still haven't shaken some of the habits you took on during your time on Vulcan."

Hanging his head in shame over having used a Vulcan phrase, Tavrus asked for forgiveness.

"Do not be concerned Centurio. You served us well on Vulcan for a long time. Such little things won't take away from your excellence. Tell me, what is the latest information on this 'Coalition'."

"They are still squabbling over minute details. I think they will go nowhere for months. The humans, however, keep everything together. If we eliminate them, this whole idea will collapse," the young warrior reported.

"Have you made progress on how to eradicate them without ground troops?"

"We have a lead. A century ago the humans used weapons based on a nuclear chain reaction. They could kill by radiation, even after the blast. But use of those is dangerous to us as well. If I may humbly inquire; why is it so important to avoid the use of ground troops? Ours are the best in the quadrant."

The praetor was visibly interested in those weapons.

"I do not doubt the excellence and bravery of our troops, Centurio. We must avoid that any of the humans or their allies ever sees one of us. If they learn about our ancestry, they will know that any weapon effective against a Vulcan is also a weapon effective against us. The Andorians have these in abundance and the blue scum have shown a predilection for helping these humans, even without a formal alliance."

"I will see to it that we develop those nuclear weapons in all haste."

Following the Praetor's accepting nod Tavrus left the chamber at all haste. Not giving the Emperor any reason to be upset was the best life-insurance.

Trip's mind was in turmoil. There they were, preparing for a tricky diplomatic mission, but all he could think of was the ship that – maybe, just maybe – was still out there.

"We must concentrate on the diplomatic mission," Depac explained. "But we offer to dispatch ships to find out if the signals are indeed coming from the second Enterprise."

"We'd be very grateful," Trip answered, trying to keep his voice neutral. "Last time we saw them, they were in bad shape and if that signal was all over the sector as you say, it looks as if they are running from someone – most likely the Kovalaans. Maybe you could convince the aquatics to send a ship as well, you know, to give them a lift, like they did with us. As for the diplomatic side; Maybe Soval can help."

"Was he not introduced as a medic on this ship?" Jannar asked.

"I am currently serving as a medic," Soval explained. "It was necessary to aid the recuperation of two crew members. However, before that I've been a diplomat for 50 years and I will return to that service, once this mission is finished."

"I remember," Depac replied. "The data that Captain Archer gave us about Earth spoke of an Ambassador Soval."

"Indeed. I am that individual."

"We would be honored to have an established diplomat available," Jannar answered in the slow manner of the arboreals. "It will make dealings with the aquatics a lot easier."

"Indeed," Depac agreed.

"You sound as if you don't even try to apprehend him alive," Shran noted, while he covered the area around his eyes with the ocher-colored paste. Archer's latest instructions, given while everyone in the shuttle put the finishing touches on their outfit, sounded suspiciously like 'kill anyone with a lirpa on sight'.

"If the Vulcans would have wanted him alive or for interrogation, they would have gotten him themselves. They didn't put it in so many words, but his death is exactly the outcome they expect."

"Strange," Shran noticed. "Every Andorian they ever captured was interrogated thoroughly – very thoroughly. How come they don't want to interrogate the man, who corrupted their whole government?"

"That's because they already have," Archer explained. "They had him stunned, when T'Pau and I brought in the Kir'Shara. Trust me, T'Pau or any of the other melders has picked his brain, while he was out. A mind-meld is much more efficient than any old-fashioned torture."

"Is that, why they let him go?" Shran asked, remembering that he had been very confused when reports reached the Imperial Guard that the new Vulcan government had let a high profile traitor go free.

"Think so," Archer said with a nod. "I think they had hoped to find more of his co-conspirators, but when that led to nothing, they decided to get rid of him."

"I'm surprised that Starfleet agreed to this. You humans did not strike me as a race that would kill in cold blood. You've made peace between my people and the Vulcans more than once and now you go on what is technically an assassination mission?"

"It's pure opportunism on Starfleet's part," Jon sighed. He didn't like that mission any more than Shran did. "At some point we want something from the Vulcans and if they are reluctant to agree, we just need to mention this mission and they will 'see the logic' in agreeing to our request in a damn hurry."

"They probably think exactly the same. They make a concession they normally wouldn't make and you humans solve their problem," Shran remarked. Obviously in times of war or when such was looming, the Humans could be just as ruthless as an Andorian warrior.

"War's a dirty business," Archer replied. "I've had Surak in my head long enough to know that, what we're about to do may clash with our own values, but by Vulcan standards I'm just following tradition. I've learned the hard way in the Expanse that sometimes you must shove your own moral values aside to get the job done."

"It is Vulcan tradition to assassinate people?" Shran asked back.

"In a way. When you got the cultural briefing in the Embassy after you applied for Starfleet service. Did they tell you about medieval laws? About people being outlawed?"

Shran nodded, remembering the texts about people that were sent away from their homes and everyone had the right to kill them.

"In contrast to humanity, Vulcan still has the death penalty," Archer explained grimly. "Treason, murder, adultery and few select other offences still carry the death-sentence. By Vulcan tradition everyone affected has the right to execute the offender. He gave the order for the Embassy bombing that killed one of my best friends and 29 other humans, he nearly destroyed my ship and gave order to have me and my first officer killed. I think I'm damn well affected."

Shran looked at the face of his human friend – there he was again, the grim, angry human he'd met in the Expanse. The Romulans had no idea what they were up against, should they ever plan to attack.

"Captain Shran," the pilot announced. "We've reached the deployment zone."

"All right, ready for deployment, meet me at the given coordinates in exactly 60 minutes from now ... mark!" Shran ordered and shoved the balaclava over his head.

"Let's satisfy some tradition, Jon," he said and opened the hatch.

Soval looked at the stack of PADDs before him. These mediation talks would challenge all of his diplomatic skills. The five Xindi subspecies where as different as if they came from as many different worlds. The arboreals and primates seemed to have a certain common ground, but then there were also the unassertive aquatics, the rash insectoids, not to mention the unpredictable and volatile reptilians.

"Have you come to any conclusions," Depac asked.

"Your political situation is ... difficult," Soval started carefully. "With the aquatics' difficulties to come to decisions and the insectoids' intransigence, I do not believe that these negotiations can be completed in the given time-frame."

"What do you propose?" Jannar asked.

"I shall convene with my superiors to see if it is possible for me to stay on your world until these negotiations have been completed. Since I believe this process to take months, it would be illogical to keep Enterprise here for such a long time, especially since Earth might be on the verge of another war."

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Dawn of the Federation Book II Darkness on the Edge of SpaceChapter 17 Pen Pals

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Dawn of the Federation Book II Darkness on the Edge of SpaceChapter 15 Silver Lining

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Dawn of the Federation Book II Darkness on the Edge of SpaceChapter 12 On A Short Leash

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Dawn of the Federation Book II Darkness on the Edge of SpaceChapter 9 Learning Experiences

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Dawn of the Federation Book II Darkness on the Edge of SpaceChapter 13 On The Mend

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DawnChapter 6 The Contract Expanding Her Horizons

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The United Kingdom of Zoo A fake BBC documentary seriesS10E17 Ashley Mathews 29 from Newcastle Northern Ireland

This week’s show begins with that same old rusty bedstead, and that same old dirty mattress. Pausing to take in the magnificent filthiness of it, then pulling back to reveal the bare concrete floor around it, and to take in the harsh lighting. And then we hear our guest of the week approaching, quick little footsteps ... Light clicks on the studio floor. We pan round to see what we’ve got this week and see a slight, pale, small-boobed lady walking in quick, short strides ... She’s not is a...

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