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  • File : 1293763498.jpg-(47 KB, 590x553, Marcius Flavius Color.jpg)
    47 KB Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)21:44 No.13343822  
    Command Marcius Flavius sighed. It was his tenth week as an exchange officer in the Federation-Imperium Officer Exchange Program, and secretly, he wondered if Battle-Brother Riker was having a better time than he was aboard the Phalanx, the Imperial Fists' massive battlebarge. What he wouldn't give to be among his brothers, among whom the inability to slay a tenscore of orkz would be laughed at. Here, he bet the average officer or enlisted man would lose a fight to a *guardsman.* The only two who wouldn't were a xenos and an iron man. He shook his head with disappointment. The Federation was a poor imitation of the glory of the Imperium. He'd barely even been able to convince them to let him wear his full battle armor at all times.

    The iron man's console beeped one of the annoying toy noises that indicated something. "Captain, we appear to be in range of some kind of subspace anomoly." Data chirped.

    "Put it on screen." Brother-Captain Picard ordered.

    It was a white vortex of some kind, slowly rotating, crackling with some kind of reverse lightning. It looked vaguely like a warp storm.

    "Recommend a full torpedo barrage, Brother-Captain." he said.

    "Data, what are its effects?"

    After a few moments of silence, Data replied. "It appears to be a reverse black hole, creating anti-gravity that propels the Enterprise away from it while pulling itself more and more into the universe. It's hard to see, but it is expanding. It is currently eight hundred miles in diameter, if it continues at the rate it is expanding, it will engulf the nearest Federation colony on Alphas-4 in eight hours."

    "That must be why the planets in the system have started to get out of their alignment." Tech-Priest La Forge put in.

    "Options?" demanded Picard.

    Data thought for a moment. "I suggest we try Command Flavius' plan, sir. We don't have anything on board for this kind of situation."

    Picard nodded to Flavius. "Make it so."
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)21:49 No.13343853
    "Sensors indicate the torpedoes have increased the effect's size. It is now approximately twice as large." said the iron man.

    "Damn!" cursed Picard.

    "Sir," said the fifteen year-old boy who was inexplicitly allowed to be an officer. "We're getting some kind of... reading, something is exiting the effect! It looks like a ship!"

    Everyone on the bridge watched the screen with bated breathes as a tiny black figure exited the effect.

    "Sensors indicate... it's an enormous ship, sir! It's kilometers long!"

    Flavius had a button beep. "Sir, it is hailing us. Shall I respond with phasers?"

    Picard sighed. "They might not be enemies, Commander. Open the channel."

    Flavius hesitatingly did as he was commanded. The room flooded with noise.

    FRENZYKILLFRENZYKILLFRENZYKILLFR" was all it got out before Flavius ended it on his own.

    Picard was barking out orders, but Flavius knew what to do, now. He gripped his chainsword and bolter, comfortable knowing they were both with him. Regardless of what happened today, he would see the Federation's gall in the face of Chaos.
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)21:50 No.13343861
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    Commander Flavius has returned. We are saved!
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)21:53 No.13343885

    > Enterprise versus the Killfrenzy

    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)21:58 No.13343918
    >"It appears to be a reverse black hole..."
    Sorry, it's been a long time since I watched any Star Trek, but was the science on the show(s) always this screwy?
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)22:00 No.13343941

    Star Trek has always been techno-babble bullshit and pseudo physics.
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)22:01 No.13343946
    He's baaaack...
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)22:01 No.13343949
         File1293764491.jpg-(66 KB, 888x451, technobabble.jpg)
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    Star Trek dialogue chart.
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)22:03 No.13343968
    Actually from the serenity RPG isn't it?
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)22:04 No.13343974
    That's from the Firefly RPG.
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)22:08 No.13344020
    Can we get some more? This is a hilarious concept.
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)22:11 No.13344064
    By the time Voyager rolled around large parts of the scripts were written like "and then we do science to the science by reversing the science science so we can science the science", with all the 'sciences' getting filled in with with episode-related words at the last minute. By the last few seasons they we're getting really lazy and over half of the sciences getting filled in with quantums.

    A random table is probably more legitimate that the methods that the actual scriptwriters used.
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)22:14 No.13344089
    Jesus christ what is this delicious blending of draw and writefaggotry that has flooded my senses?

    Continue with all haste OP
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)22:15 No.13344095
    itt newfags
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)22:23 No.13344164
    I demand more.
    >> Command Squad !8CHDJ3c6tQ 12/30/10(Thu)22:26 No.13344187
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)22:29 No.13344211
    Will Flavius finally get a chance to utilize his close combat prowess?
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)22:35 No.13344253
    thank you
    >> Anonymous 12/30/10(Thu)23:48 No.13344863

    Picard once created anti-time, man. Anti-time, which works like antimatter.
    >> Alpharius 12/31/10(Fri)00:09 No.13345082
    >which works like antimatter.
    By exploding violently in contact with regular time?
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)00:10 No.13345101
    Also known as the Picard "Fuck Physics" Gambit.
    >> S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 12/31/10(Fri)00:12 No.13345120
    Ahaha oh yes. A nice way to wake up.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)00:47 No.13345481

    No, it destroys regular time. Which means that it destroys itself, which means Picard never creates it, which means the universe destroys humanity to avoid having to deal with this bullshit.

    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)00:55 No.13345567

    And, ladies and gentlenerds, is why Picard is the best Star Fleet Captain ever.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:00 No.13345602
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    Kirk is the best and you damn well know it.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:04 No.13345628
    Is there one with Archer?

    Cuz I'm gonna be honest, I enjoyed Star Trek: Enterprise
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:07 No.13345656
    >Cuz I'm gonna be honest, I enjoyed Star Trek: Enterprise

    I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've heard anyone say this.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:07 No.13345659

    Get off of /tg/ Shatner.

    Kirk was good but Picard was better.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:13 No.13345716
    Not that guy, but I did too. Kinda.

    It's not the kind of thing I can say without reservation, because some of that show (like the ENTIRE FUCKING THIRD SEASON) sucked ass, but it had it's moments.

    Though, when all is said and done, I would've rather spent that time watching Deep Space Nine.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:14 No.13345722
    And Sisko even more so.

    Anyone who doesn't hold Sisko as the best captain thinks that the Threshold is a good episode of Voyager, or even worse Outrageous Okana is a good episode of TNG.
    >> GL Pretentious Hipster !!NU1qDw5ZF2C 12/31/10(Fri)01:16 No.13345742

    Sisko wasn't a captain.

    Captains command ships.

    Sisko commanded a base.

    That ranks higher than Captain.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:16 No.13345746
    I enjoyed it a lot. I don't remember as much of it as I wish because, well I enjoyed it on TV and never bought the disks, but one episode I remember fondly was T'Pol relating a story about the "real" first contact between Vulcans and Humans, and how a Vulcan gave us Velcro.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:16 No.13345748
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    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:17 No.13345750
    Sisko wasn't a proper starship captain. He's in a different class than the other protagonists.

    Yes, this lets me avoid admitting whether you're right or not.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:18 No.13345768
    Sisko was a Commander, one rank under Captain... though any Captain would defer to him on his own base out of respect.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:19 No.13345770
    I hated that episode. Not only was it ridiculous (yes, I know, Star Trek), it also fucked with canon, like most of the show.

    But I don't care if you like it. More power to you.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:20 No.13345773
    His rank was Captain.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:20 No.13345775
    "You don't understand, it's 5 different species that are at war with us, we can't just"
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:20 No.13345784
    Season 3 he was promoted to Captain.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:20 No.13345785


    I thought I liked DS9 from when I first watched it as a kid/early teen. Then I watched a few episodes recently, Bajorian Jesus really isn't that cool.

    >Outrageous Okana isn't a good episode


    I suppose I've proven your point by feeling that way but fuck it, I liked that episode.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:22 No.13345795

    Sisko started out as a Commander and was promoted to Captain latter. Captain is a title given to the ranking officer on a starship (if there actually rank is Captain or below) as well as an actually military rank that is a step above Commander and a step below Rear Admiral (or Commodore).
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:23 No.13345796

    Memories are not facts.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:23 No.13345800

    > I like The Outrageous Okana
    > I like being told a character is rogueish without him acting like a rogue
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:25 No.13345812
    They had to make him a Captain so he could be in command of the most advanced warship in the Federation.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:27 No.13345821
    Which was basically a large starfighter.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:30 No.13345847
    I always wished that there would be a character in some show that brutally raped all comms channels by doing something like this.

    I really don't care what it is, but that shit would drive somebody insane.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:31 No.13345859
    goddamnit, post more.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:33 No.13345871
    Yes, but instead of being made from mere "super science' like other things in Star Trek it was made of new-and-improved ULTRA SCIENCE which made it capable of fighting a Cardassian battle cruiser and winning.

    Also, what happened to the draw/writefags that started this thread?
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:42 No.13345939
    “Sister Apothecary.”

    The great, booming voice shook a dozen small implements off the shelf by the door. Doctor Crusher sighed, and met the speaker where he stood, while an attendant cleaned up the mess.

    “What seems to be the problem, Commander?” the Doctor asked, tricorder in hand.

    The gigantic Marine squeezed through the doorway, bringing his enormous arms from behind him and setting a bloodied ensign on the nearest medical bed. Crusher immediately scanned him, frantically ordering everyone around to help her stabilize the patient. “What the hell happened to him?” she shouted at the Marine, carefully examining the poor man.

    Flavius came to attention. “I was training in your holodeck when this man entered, improperly prepared for the simulation within. I disengaged the safeties and increased the power to eight hundred percent to provide myself with a challenge. The blast wave from an exploding tank shell threw him into the wall before I could pause the simulation.” The Marine looked at the man with an expression of pity, though no one could tell because of his helmet. “I am truly sorry. I will remember to lock the door next time.”
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:43 No.13345950

    By this time Crusher was very busy trying to make sure the ensign would survive the next few minutes. “Yes! Make sure you do! Now leave, please. We have this under control.”

    The Commander saluted and departed the infirmary, stooping as he walked out, scraping his pauldrons noisily on the wall. No longer in the mood for the holodeck's version of “battle”, he stopped by long enough to turn off the simulation and return the power levels to normal, then headed off to engineering, leaving deep footprints in the carpet.

    LaForge looked up from his work, typed something into his PADD, grimaced, and glanced to the side, only to jump backwards as he found himself face-to-face with the towering hulk of metal that had replaced Commander Riker and his beard. Geordi adjusted his visor and set the PADD down.

    “I thought you were still off-duty, Commander,” he said quietly, making a mental note to repair the doors Flavius had come through.

    “I am, Brother Tech-Priest. I have found myself with considerable free time since my arrival. Your Federation work schedules are...” he paused, searching for the word, “Quaint. I have not been so underworked since boyhood.”

    Geordi glanced around the room, noticing that all of his staff had mysteriously disappeared, probably behind secure blast doors.

    Flavius straightened his posture. “Brother Tech-Priest, I have a personal request to make.”

    “And what might that be?”

    “I desire access to your main computer's design software,” he said matter-of factly.

    The Chief Engineer resisted the urge to rub his useless eyes in exasperation. “...why?” he said finally, picking up his PADD again.

    “The crew aboard this ship lack personal protection, Brother. You wear only flimsy fabric garments and minute technological items. I have personally injured a great many of you simply by colliding with you in hallways.”

    LaForge winced.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:45 No.13345966

    “I wish to fashion armor for you, Brother. I will need your assistance, as I do not share your... expertise in such matters. I am fully prepared to submit a complex and detailed proposal to the Brother-Captain and any crew members who need be informed as well as-”

    “Fine,” the Chief Engineer said, “That's fine. I'll have you set up by 0800 tomorrow.”

    Flavius saluted. “Thank you, Brother Tech-Priest. I will arrive promptly. Excuse me, please.”

    The immense Marine exited the room, scratching the paint off the door as he squeezed out into the hallway. Engineers began to emerge from a small storage closet off to the side.

    “...is he gone?” one asked. LaForge let his head sink into his hands. What had he gotten himself into this time?

    Ensign Danny's surgery was completed in an hour. Though he was confined to medical for several days, and the ringing in his ears never quite went away, he was no worse for wear after a close encounter with the computer's best approximation of a Leman Russ's main gun. When he first awoke after Crusher finished re-solidifying his rib cage, he found a rather large vase filled with an array of flowers beside his bed, with a note crudely attached to the outside.

    “I hope you are well, Brother. Please allow me to express my profound gratitude that you live to fight again. At your next opportunity, please meet me in Ten-Forward.”

    Ensign Danny was the first to join Flavius's armor project. Over the next few months, his injuries would become legendary
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:46 No.13345977

    No. You must stand like this,” Flavius said, hunching over and putting his arms out in front of him. The timid young man in front of him tried to imitate his posture.

    “Like this?” the ensign said, finding it hard to move in his bulky metal suit.

    “Arms up. Brace your legs. Yes, that will do,” Flavius replied, standing and walking back over to the holodeck's arch. “Now prepare yourself.”

    The ensign braced himself as best he could, and nodded. The Marine pressed a small, inconspicuous button.

    A multi-ton tank roared out of the wall as the simulation re-engaged, filling the small room with the roar of a massive engine. The tank struck Ensign Danny squarely, plowing directly into his waiting arms. The poor man skidded over a hundred meters in his immensely heavy suit, straining against the tank as it continued to charge forward. Then, with a mighty yell, the crewman raised his arms, the suit's powerful, crushing hands biting through the tank's forward armor. The vehicle lifted off the ground and swung up, sailing over the ensign and crashing to the ground, tumbling into a low hill and exploding, pelting the heavy suit with shrapnel.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:46 No.13345982

    “Excellent!” Flavius called out, pausing the sim. “This is the most effective combination yet.” He rushed over to the sobbing ensign, pulling a specially-made, ridiculously rugged tricorder from his belt. “Are you alright, Brother?”

    “My... arms...” Danny managed to say, before falling backwards into the dirt.

    The Marine scanned him thoroughly, sighed, and hefted the ensign, suit and all, to his shoulder. “Tensile strength is still insufficient. I will have the computer address this.” With that, he carried his charge to the infirmary for the eight time that week, muttering litanies.

    Crusher was livid. “You can't keep doing this!” she shouted, laying the unconscious patient on the familiar bed, calling for assistance. “There's a limit to how much we can repair, Commander!”

    Flavius stood at attention. “Better here than on the battlefield, Sister Apothecary.”

    “What battlefield?” the redhead replied angrily, running one of her instruments over the ensign's shattered arms, “What the hell do you think you're going to need this for? Why do you need to half-kill one of my people every hour just to test it?”

    The Marine shook his head. “Sister Apothecary, I must be vigilant. The enemies of the Emperor persist even here. I cannot afford to let my Brothers seek them unprotected.”

    The Doctor said nothing for a moment, consuming herself in her work. She didn't want to think about what the ensign was putting himself through, and, for the life of her, she didn't know why he did it.

    “Commander,” she said finally, “Please return to your duties.”

    Flavius bowed and departed, easily fitting through the enlarged and reinforced door. He made his way to the nearest turbolift, a new and improved heavy-duty model suited to his size and mass, and told the computer to take him to the bridge.
    >> GL Pretentious Hipster !!NU1qDw5ZF2C 12/31/10(Fri)01:46 No.13345983

    Are you a Magos?
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:47 No.13345988

    The Marine stomped out of the small, tubular craft as soon as it arrived, nodding to Worf, the almost-redeemable xeno, as he passed. Since the Brother-Captain was nowhere in sight, Flavius surmised that he must be inside his chapel, attending to the many less-glamorous facets of running a starship. He pressed the small button beside the door, noticing that it, too, had been reinforced, and barely deformed at all under the gentle pressure of his gauntlet.

    “Enter,” said a voice from within. Flavius obeyed as the door opened, coming to stand at Picard's desk, upon which sat a steaming cup of his favorite tea.

    “Ah, what can I do for you, Commander?” the balding man greeted the Marine, taking a sip of tea as he thanked the powers that be for keeping Flavius occupied and relatively out of trouble for the past few days.

    “Brother-Captain, I have concerns about your crew,” the armored Marine stated simply, lamenting the lack of skulls in the small, conservative chapel.

    “What sort of concerns?” Picard responded.

    Flavius chose his words carefully, wary of speaking to one so glorious and exalted as the Brother-Captain about the failings of his mortal servants. “Brother-Captain, your crew are very poorly suited for the rigors of intense combat. They are physically weak and lack any sort of enhancement that would allow them to survive even the most mundane of inhospitable environments. A single deck being exposed to vacuum would kill over a hundred, for example.”

    “And?” Picard said, urging the Commander to continue.

    “Sir, I formally request permission to augment choice members of your crew.”

    “Request denied.”

    Flavius tilted his head to one side. “May I request an explanation, sir?”
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:47 No.13345992

    Picard bit down an immediate retort, memories of his brief time with the Borg welling up like a tide of blades in the back of his mind. “Commander, I will not subject my people to such... modifications in the absence of a coherent justification for it. To date, you have presented no such justification.”

    The Marine nodded, and saluted. “My apologies, Brother-Captain. I will make every attempt to ensure that those modifications will not be necessary.”

    “See that you do,” said Picard, gesturing to the door. “Dismissed.”

    A minute after Flavius had left, Picard began to wonder about the ramifications of the Marine's presence aboard his ship, and, for the first time in his life, actually considered allowing himself to prefer the presence of Q. He managed to cut that impulse off at the knees, and ordered another cup of tea from the replicator.

    Meanwhile, Commander Riker was undergoing yet another round of training aboard the ship run by Flavius's Chapter, the Imperial Fists.

    “FASTER! FASTER, BATTLE-BROTHER! YOU MUST RUN FASTER!” Shouted the Chapter Master, taking potshots at the Carapace-Armored human with a Heavy Bolter. For the past several months, he had taken it upon himself to train the man personally, and had noted a considerable and increasing improvement in his combat skills. But it still wasn't enough.

    Riker's beard caught the wind as he bounded through the training course, doing his best to dodge the incoming fire. Never again would he complain about Captain Picard's insistence on playing opera in the background during those long, boring briefings. Never again.

    >> GL Pretentious Hipster !!NU1qDw5ZF2C 12/31/10(Fri)01:50 No.13346019
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    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:50 No.13346020
    well that was a letdown from the first post. thanks for trying tho i guess
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:51 No.13346031
    Commander Flavius pulled out the tiny chisel he'd taken to mark on his armor as of late and wrote down the newest order from the Brother-Captain.

    'No Surprise Combat Exercises'

    Try as he might, he couldn't seem to get the Brother-Captain to understand just how unprepared his crew was in case of attack. "Maybe I should concentrate on prevention..." Flavius thought "...although I doubt the Brother-Captain will allow any more 'experiments' with Tech-Priest LaForge after the melta incident."

    Reaching his post, Flavius resumed his duties just a hail from the planet below came in.

    "...*Static*... We're under attack...*explosion*... there were Romulan pirates waiting at the drop loca...". The transmission cut off abruptly. Pounding the heavily reinforced comm devise on his chest, Commander Flavius hailed the captain and other chief officers as he'd been told to do.

    "I heard" Brother-Captain Picard said as he stalked into the bridge, "Mr. Data, what's going on?"

    "It appears as if the away team has been captured and transported to a secure location, I cannot lock onto them to transport them back to the ship captain. Judging by the energy readings from the attack, the Romulans appear to be well armed."

    Picard turned to tell Worf to begin assembling a rescue team when he realized that Commander Flavius had left the bridge.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:52 No.13346042

    Rage burned beneath the Space Marine's power armor. "Not only are crew in danger, but I must trek deep into the bowels of this minuscule ship to retrieve my sacred armaments." Flavius stormed down the corridors and finally reached his room.

    Grabbing his powersword, bolter and bolt pistol he hesitated. He set down his bolt pistol and examined the 'phazer' he had been assigned by Tech-Priest LaForge. Flavius attempted to set the weapon from 'stun', a most useless setting to 'kill' it's proper position. The weapon broke in his titanic grip.

    He elected for his bolt pistol instead.

    Once ready he hit his abused comm button again and commanded the poor insign in the transporter room to get him as close to the Romulans as he could.

    "At least this cultures teleportorium is reliable." He mused as specs of lights danced in front of his visor.

    Brother Flavius appeared in the room the 'negotiations' were suppose to be in. He pulled out his auspex... or 'tricorder', also heavily reinforced, and began scanning the area. His keen eyes noticed footprints and drag marks going off in an eastern directions, so he began to track the xenos filth to recover the captured officers.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:53 No.13346045

    The tracks went up to a large abandoned building that his sensors said was the source of the transporter blockage. He was about to approach the building when a hail of phazer and disruptor fire erupted from the surrounding area and plinked off Flavius's armored body.

    "This reminds me of that traitor legions lasgun fire... stupid flashlights" Flavius thought to himself as he leveled his bolter and started putting high caliber explosive rounds into nearby xenos.

    "These xenos appear to be Eldar witches, but they are using primitive weapons and no psykers... the crew will have to be disciplined when we return."

    Flavius continued to pump high explosive rounds into the Romulans as they continued to fail to even scratch his armor. Eventually the leader of the pirates came out and the firing stopped. He wanted to negotiate the safe release of the prisoners...

    Flavius put up his bolter, cause a sigh of relief to ripple through the remaining Romulans. But before the leader could open his mouth to name their terms Flavius had sliced him in half with his power sword. As the green xenos blood sizzled on his glowing blade, Flavius said

    "It seems negotiations have failed."

    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:53 No.13346049
    I can just imagine what would happen to the borg if they met flavius.

    "we are the borg, you will be assimilated"
    "Die xenos scum!" accompanied to the music of borg being torn in half
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:55 No.13346062
    It's an old copypasta you ungrateful swine.
    >> GL Pretentious Hipster !!NU1qDw5ZF2C 12/31/10(Fri)01:55 No.13346065

    It would be GLORIOUS.

    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:57 No.13346080

    Got one just for you

    "Brother-Captain, sensors are finally able to scan the ship. They indicate it is a corvette-sized minor ship, probably a scout of some kind."

    "Design?" asked the captain, warily.

    "Sensors indicate... it is approximately 3040 meters on all sides, with a cubic shape."

    Picard nearly spilled his tea, though reacted quickly enough to avoid it. "The Borg!" He stood up immediately, after setting down the teacup. "Shield up, ready all weapons, red alert!"

    Commander Flavius was impressed as he followed the orders. "So THIS is what it takes to motivate the Federation." He would have to research the Borg a little more later, to learn what made them different from the Romulans they DIDN'T destroy earlier. Honestly, a race had been in multiple wars with humanity over the centuries and Picard didn't immediately open fire?

    "Keep us just outside their weapons range." Picard paced the bridge over to the science officer's station, placing a hand on Data's chair's head. He was visibly sweating.

    "It is time to finally see how these faux-Naval officers react to battle." he thought. He had never met a true Imperial Naval officer, only Guardsmen, but he'd heard of them. The Federation seemed like some bizarre combination of them and extremely lenient Rogue Traders.

    "What's the enemy cube doing?" Picard asked.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:57 No.13346089

    "They appear to be... hailing us, sir. Shall I respond with a torpedo?"

    "I wonder what they're going to say. Maybe that we should resist them" Worf mused sarcastically. A smirk appeared on Troi's face; apparently there was some joke here Flavius wasn't in on. Only the emotionless Iron Man and Picard, too busy for humor, said nothing. "Put it on screen." he said, facing the viewscreen.

    An albino alien with cybernetic enhancement flashed across the screen. A terrifying red artificial eye adorned its face, with the other side covered by metal. Flavius recognized the alien, actually.

    "Sir, this is not a Borg! This is an--"


    Brother-Captain Picard very quietly, very patiently walked back to his chair in the center of the bridge, all eyes on him. He took a sip of his tea, crossed his legs, straightened his shirt, and while still holding the teacup, responded with an uncharacteristically serious "Mr. Flavius. Fire all weapons."
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:58 No.13346091

    Sounds just about right what a Marine would do.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)01:59 No.13346107

    For some reason, as he entered the commands into the computer to fire (with its atrociously childish sounds as the buttons were pressed), Flavius' mind flashed back to his first day on the Enterprise, a week ago.

    He'd been in the galley, and despite these Federation values of "acceptance," no one sat at the table with him. Admittedly, no one else wore constant battle armor, was eight feet tall, and required three chairs and entire side of the table.

    After a few minutes alone, looking over a PADD of Starfleet protocols the Brother-Captain had advised him to read, the dark-skinned Tech-Priest wandered over, and sat across the table.

    "Hiya!" he said, extending his hand. "Name's La Forge."

    "Greetings." Commander Flavius shook the hand. Fortunately, he'd had experiences with regular Guardsmen, and knew to use a fraction of his strength even when unarmored. As it was, in full armor, La Forge was lucky Crusher wasn't needed.

    "May I ask you something, Tech-Priest?" the commander asked casually.

    "Uh, sure."

    "Why are you so... unaltered? I am aware cybernetic enhancements are considered standard and necessary amongst the Omnissiah's chosen, but while my own experiences with them have been limited, it was my impression that having nothing except artificial eyes is considered to be the barest of minimums."

    "Uh... in the Federation, engineers don't normally have artificial body parts unless their real ones are destroyed somehow."

    "Oh. I assume you lost your eyes in battle? Perhaps with the Klingons?"

    "No, uh, I was born blind."
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:00 No.13346113

    "Ah." The room fell silent as they did; apparently, everyone was listening to their conversation. Flavius poked at the "replicated meat" and "synthehol." He suspected it was a good thing that one of his chapter had been sent, and not a Space Wolf.

    "So tell me, commander, what, uh, 'chapter' you're from?"

    "I am Battle-Brother Marcius Flavius of the Imperial Fists."

    "Oh, do you guys have your own ship?"

    "Yes, our fortress-monastery Phalanx sails the stars, recruiting new hopeful marines from the various worlds we come across, both primitive and advanced. We are especially known for our self-flagellation." he said casually.

    La Forge choked on his food. "Self... flagellation?"

    "Yes. We punish ourselves for inadequacies. Our sergeants and captains do not even bother to punish failure; it is assumed that any failure by a marine will be dealt with by himself. Why, I am using a pain glove right now." He set the PADD down on the table and waved to La Forge with it; now that La Forge actually looked at it, it WAS a different glove than the heavy gauntlet on his other hand. "It stimulates the pain receptors all over the body. Every Imperial Fist owns at least one. I'm used to it enough by now that I can still function; otherwise these gloves wouldn't be usable in battle."
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:00 No.13346119

    "What..." La Forge's disbelieving and disgusted eyes were luckily obscured by his VISOR. "What inadequacy are you punishing yourself for?"

    "The Brother-Captain suggested I read this PADD of protocol." he said, picking it back up. "The implication is that I am not yet versed enough in Starfleet rules, so, I endeavor to please him."

    "Oh." La Forge awkwardly finished, picked up his plate, and left.

    That was the last time anyone ever ate with the commander.

    Dozens of torpedoes flashed from the Enterprise, spreading out and impacting the Bork ship with incredible force, burning through bolted armor plates and exploding within, blowing weapons of all kinds out of the square.

    “Evasive action,” Picard said calmly, “Pattern Delta-3. Circle them.” He turned briefly, eyeing Commander Flavius, who was holding down the firing buttons for all the Enterprise's weapons with one finger. “Continue firing. Target their weapons and shield emitters.”

    “Yes, Brother-Captain!” the Marine shouted, quickly scanning the console for the appropriate options, remembering the memorized schematics from the central computer. Worf watched with approval as he selected the correct commands.

    The Enterprise went to half-impulse, skirting the edge of the Bork square's engagement zone while pouring phaser fire into its flanks. Literally every surface of the rusting metallic vessel was covered with weapons, be they missile batteries, old-fashioned autocannons or guns so big they could swallow a Galaxy-class cruiser whole. One of Marcus Flavius's expertly targeted torpedoes sailed into the mouth of a big gun, detonating inside the firing chamber.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:01 No.13346124

    An answering storm of hot lead cascaded from the Bork square as the gun exploded, taking a three hundred-meter chunk out of the side, killing thousands of drones. The Enterprise, even maneuvering like a bee fed only with cocaine and promethium, was taking hits.

    “Shield strength decreasing rapidly, sir!” Flavius yelled, happily blowing his enemy's guns to bits, “Seventy-five percent and falling!”

    A random console exploded, blasting a random crewman halfway across the room.

    “Medical team to the bridge,” Picard said, his voice tense, before he looked back at Flavius, steadying himself as the ship rocked to one side. “Suggestions, Commander?” he asked pointedly, testing Flavius's knowledge as much as looking for a brilliant tactical plan.

    The Marine glanced at the displays before him, and nodded. “This foul ship we're fighting is tough, sir, but only on the outside. These scans indicate that the core is made of wood and iron. We still have the shield strength to break through.” Inside his helmet, he was smiling.

    Picard blinked. “You're suggesting we ram it?”

    Flavius nodded again. “I am, Brother-Captain.”
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:02 No.13346135

    Picard turned to face the viewscreen as sparks flew from every available surface, blanketing the bridge in an ensign-burning glow. “Then by all means make it so, Commander. Take us in.”

    “Aye, Brother-Captain!”

    The Enterprise suddenly tilted to one side, going to full-impulse as hundreds of shells spattered off its forward shields. Firing a full spread of torpedoes directly ahead, the well-built Federation vessel routed all emergency power to the forward emitters and charged in.

    For a moment, the battle ceased.

    ...and then the Enterprise came barreling out the other side of the Bork square, trailing plasma from both nacelles and with its saucer covered in wreckage and broken green bodies. Behind it, the enemy vessel vanished in a brilliant explosion as its primitive petroleum power plant lit. Picard took a moment to assess the damage to his ship before issuing his next orders.

    “Contact Starfleet Command,” he said to the Commander, “Inform them of what transpired here and of our current position while we attempt emergency repairs.” He sighed. “And get those infernal things off my ship's hull.”

    “Yes, Brother-Captain!” the Marine answered, quickly bringing up the communications screen and preparing a message. When he had finished, he would be the first out the airlock, scrubbing corpses off the Enterprise's saucer section and finishing off whatever might still be alive. It would be just like old times.

    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:06 No.13346173
         File1293779212.jpg-(433 KB, 1280x768, fuck yea!.jpg)
    433 KB

    Win sir, Win.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:06 No.13346175
    We already know Borg shields always lose to bladed weapons so...

    Power Sword vs. Adaptable Shields.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:07 No.13346178
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:08 No.13346190
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:08 No.13346192
    Tis reposts.

    Glorious reposts, but reposts.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:09 No.13346200
    this really puts the fag in writefag
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:10 No.13346205
    Wow, that was glorious... simply glorious. Bravo to whatever writefag put this down. Possibly going on my list of top ten /tg/ threads of 2010.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:19 No.13346277
    There's something about "ensign-burning glow" that just works so well.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:33 No.13346351
    The copypasta is old, but the writing is good. It's not the gold people to claim it to be, but it's good.

    It's silly, it's fun, but it's not Chaucer.

    Carry on, carry on. :D
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:38 No.13346378
         File1293781106.jpg-(24 KB, 432x324, 1271811061393.jpg)
    24 KB
    >It's silly, it's fun, but it's not Chaucer.
    >implying Chaucer is good
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:48 No.13346431
    Fuck you, I like Chaucer. You want another generically-held-in-high-regard author? Proust, Hemingway.

    You know who I like best, though? Tom Clancy. He nails periodic details to the letter and despite the plots that seem silly in perspective, I always want to see how they play out. The Bear and the Dragon- Russia and China, war. You have my attention.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)02:53 No.13346466
    I love Marcius Flavius. I even love how he's a member of the single most obscure FIrst Founding Space Marine chapter.

    I assume it was done because the Ultramarines are too generic, Space Wolves and White Scars are too non-generic, Blood Angels have weird baggage, and there's nothing to do with the Iron Hands and Salamanders.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:01 No.13346518
    >Proust, Hemingway.


    Agreed on Tom Clancy. When he's the one actually writing. His ghostwriters do not have nearly the same attention to detail.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:05 No.13346550
    Agreed on the ghostwriters.

    My point, however, is that this stuff isn't going to be the subject of essays and thesis papers, like the three I provided. Good or not, people think they are, thus providing the contrast- good yes, but not by any means selected by the registry of the Library of Congress.
    >> S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 12/31/10(Fri)03:14 No.13346618
    >BORK story
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:15 No.13346625
    And my point is that taste is subjective. It is completely possible, though hilariously unlikely, that Marcius Flavius will survive to be the subject of entire college study programs in the future, while the three writers you mentioned will be discarded. Just because something is revered does not mean it should be, and vice versa. I'm sure you can think of plenty of examples of both cases, because you have opinions, just like everybody else.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:17 No.13346640
    For the first time in the two centuries spent as a Battle Brother Marcius Flavius felt depressed. His will and resolve were strong even when boarding the infamous khornate cruiser Bronze Axe, when he fought the unending wave of greenskins on Armageddon, and even when he was ambushed by a Lictor with no other weapons than his ceramite-clad fists. This world was strange, alien, and only the intense hypnotic indoctrination held his mind together.
    Captain Picard was not happy. Far from it.
    "Marcius, that WAS a Cardassian Ambassador and his troupe."
    "That's the Klingons Marcius, not the Cardassians"
    "For god's sake, people were shouting at you to stop"
    "*I* was shouting at you too!"
    "Is that how a Space Marine of your universe should conduct? Imagine how your superiors would react if you shot an alien ambasador in the head vaporising it, and then kicked the headless corpse in the chest so strong that it left a dent in the wall!"
    Captain Picard recoiled in a mixture of terror and surprise. Nothing sounds like a giggle amplified by Astartes power armor.
    5760 Faeous
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:20 No.13346665
    I came...

    I didn't knew such copypasta existed and I found it actualy quite entertainiong...
    Thx OP.

    Dissonance values all the way.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:39 No.13346796
    I am hard-pressed to accede to this argument, if only because it's only ever used to justify shit. I mean that in a literal fashion. On a basic, logical level, yes- art is indeed subjective. However, if you cut yourself opening a can and stuff its contents of long-expired Spaghetti-Os into your vagina, I will not call that art. Ever.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:47 No.13346851
    Fair enough. And I will never like Chaucer.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:50 No.13346884
    The second officer meeting on board the Phalanx wasn't going well. The room itself was big enough to double as a football field, and yet the four hulking figures clad in power armor seemed to fill it all. The Fists have concluded their second battle training just half an hour earlier, there was no time, nor no need to take off armor. Riker discovered he was sweating. A lot. -As I was trying to say, the Federation discovered that the stun setting enables us to keep the casualties on both sides to a minimum. Due to that we are able to forge treaties with many... -THAT IS ENOUGH, COMMANDER Chapter Master Vladimir Pugh sounded like a death metal band fed to a wood chipper even without a helmet. The vox system on his Terminator armor wasn't helping. -YOU'VE TRAINED WITH US FOR OVER A WEEK NOW. THE EMPEROR HIMSELF NAMED US HIS ANGELS OF DEATH. THERE IS NO NEED FOR THE ANGELS OF STUNNING FOUL XENOS A BIT AND THEN TALKING WITH THEM WHILE HOLDING THEIR HANDS IN THE IMPERIUM OF MAN.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:51 No.13346895
    Agreed to disagree. Indeed, comrade.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:53 No.13346912
    Am I the only one that thinks Riker in the 40k universe is funnier?
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:55 No.13346935
    If only the rest of the world could be as amiable.

    Oh well. I suppose a world without war just wouldn't be as interesting.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:56 No.13346942
    no you are not
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)03:59 No.13346962
    Nope. Needs more beard, though.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)04:06 No.13347022
    No that's fap fuel.
    Somewhat different than art.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)04:14 No.13347088
    Wasn't a Riker with the Sororitas done?

    I recall him being fitted for non-geneseed power armor, some giggling from the canoness and METAL BOOBS, but no actual dickings.

    Anyone have that one stashed somewhere?
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)04:35 No.13347247
    this is one of the greatest writefaggory i've ever read MOAR!!!!
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)04:48 No.13347313
    The only difference between Art and Pornography is the lighting.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)05:12 No.13347487
    >I even love how he's a member of the single most obscure FIrst Founding Space Marine chapter.
    >a member of the single most obscure First Founding Space Marine chapter.
    >single most obscure First Founding Space Marine chapter.
    >Imperial Fists

    Iron Hands would like to have a word with you, sir.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)05:14 No.13347499
    >A random console exploded, blasting a random crewman halfway across the room.

    whoever wrote this was a god
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)05:27 No.13347579
    >>"Sir," said the fifteen year-old boy who was inexplicitly allowed to be an officer

    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)08:57 No.13348507
    Is this new or is it from the suptg?
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)10:49 No.13349125
    OP was new, nearly everything after it is copyed from 1d4chan or suptg
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)15:32 No.13351459
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)17:36 No.13352755

    > Iron Hands would like to have a word with you, sir.

    The Iron Hands are far better known than the Imperial Fists. The Fists are basically yellow Ultramarines who have less to do.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)23:18 No.13355927
    Actually, it was done because the High Lords of Terra fucking love the Imperial Fists, so a Fist is what they would send.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)23:22 No.13355955
    the Fists are sort of poster boy Space Marines, actually. Or they were, before the Ultramarines. They're the most generic, it's just that the stuff that made Ultras unique and interesting is downplayed recently.

    White Scars are least known as a founding chapter, I'd say. Both among fans, and in-universe.
    >> Anonymous 12/31/10(Fri)23:59 No.13356333
    Hmmm, a Marcius Flavius write-fag thread? Let's see what I've got.


    Commander Flavius was torn. The Iron Man Data was an abomination, a machine that mimicked a man. Every fiber of his being said that every second of Data's continued existence was an insulting mockery of Mankind and the Emperor.

    But not only was Data a valued crewmember of the USS Enterprise, he was one of the few beings that seemed to understand Flavius and didn't treat him with a mixture of contempt and fear. Flavius had found few he could relate to aboard the Federation starship during his officer exchange from the Imperium. To his dismay that small number included both Data and the foul-xenos called Worf.

    "And how would you address a Romulan ambassador?" Data asked.

    "You are a treacherous xenos scum who thirsts for the blood of humanity," Flavius boomed. "I look forward to the day when our boot is on your neck."

    Data paused for a moment, tilting his head as he considered the words.

    "Once again you are technically correct Commander Flavius," the android said. "But this is a lesson on diplomacy. I suggest a rephrasing. I suggest you say the following. Greetings Ambassador, your culture is dynamic and rich with tradition and I look forward to our mutual enrichment?"

    Flavius frowned beneath the helm of his powered armor.

    "That is not what I said at all," he growled.

    "Incorrect Commander," Data replied. "The expansionist intent of the Romulan Star Empire, or as you would put it, their thirst for the blood of humanity is more politely phrased as being dynamic. They are also in many ways a primitive society, placing tribalism and momentary advantage over long-term gain, or as you would put it, treacherous. That aspect of their culture can be described as rich with tradition without creating an interstellar incident."

    >> Anonymous 01/01/11(Sat)00:00 No.13356347

    ... continued

    "Brother Captain Picard has ordered me to attend these lessons with you Iron Man," Flavius growled, dropping the unearnable honorific of Brother Data that his Lord and Master Picard had commanded he use in mixed company. "But while I gain some knowledge of your diplomatic ways I will never wish for the enrichment of a murdering xenos, mutual or otherwise."

    "Would you not Commander Flavius?" Data asked, almost appearing to smile. "As foul and unworthy as they are is it not better for alien species to adopt the ways of humanity and serve them? Assuming that your predilection for genocide could not be sated?"

    "I.. suppose that would be...somewhat...acceptable," Flavius said, ever distrusting the quick retorts of this machine that walked like a man. Flavius suspected that Picard had deliberately chosen the Iron Man to deliver these lessons in diplomacy precisely for this reason. It was a strange art, more suited for an Inquisitor or a Rogue Trader and seemed to revolve around the delivery of insults and challenges that sounded like mere blather and pleasantry.

    "Then that would be a better course for them then the one they have chosen, and humanity would benefit. Mutual enrichment, though they may not see it as such. That is how the Federation uses diplomacy. To neutralize outside threats and change them so that they strengthen the UFP. Though I would ask you not to repeat that outside this room. I am told that I lack tact and frequently say things that organic beings would prefer not to acknowledge."
    >> Anonymous 01/01/11(Sat)01:28 No.13357029
    We need more Riker in this.
    >> Sorain 01/01/11(Sat)02:00 No.13357295
    >That is how the Federation uses diplomacy. To neutralize outside threats and change them so that they strengthen the UFP.

    Thank you fellow writefag. That is exactly how they operate, and should operate. (though getting some military would be a damn good idea.)
    >> Anonymous 01/01/11(Sat)02:02 No.13357308
    Very high-level writing, sir. Kudos. Not to mention the godly timing.
    >> S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 01/01/11(Sat)02:04 No.13357328
    Thus Marcius now learn about diplomacy when he return to40k uniserse
    >> Anonymous 01/01/11(Sat)02:14 No.13357421
    Thank you all.

    Besides the broad comedy inherent in OPs pic I always felt there was some meat in the concept of an Imperium/Federation exchange. Star Trek may be Culture Lite, but when the franchise had good writers the UFP could be scary dangerous. 40K could learn a lot from them.
    >> Anonymous 01/01/11(Sat)12:05 No.13360486

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