The marines of one seven stowed their gear in their rooms and cargo bays on deck eleven. An arms room was constructed in cargo bay ten. The Company’s two Argo Buggies and two TT4s were beamed aboard the ship into the newly acquired cargo bay. The marines enjoyed the access to the four holosuites on their deck, but knew the commander and first sergeant would probably use those for training purposes only.


[i][b]Evening before[/b][/i]
“Yes, none of the lower enlisted are authorized in Eleven Forward tonight,” Major Kurt Watkins reminded his Executive Officer, Captain Tak as they sipped their drinks. The officers and NCOs enjoyed the spirits in the only drinking establishment either of them were permitted to enter aboard ship. The NCOs often called the club, “Bulldog”, while the officers used the more formal name, “Eleven Forward”, but they acknowledged the colloquialism.

Tak sipped his mug of boiling worm wine as he looked around the room. “Yes, sir. I understand. You let the enlisted in here and they will lose control. Hopefully these junior NCOs won’t embarrass themselves.”

“If they do, First Sergeant Cue and Gunnery Sergeant Washington have my orders to escort them back to their quarters. The Platoon Sergeants will be held responsible for their junior NCOs.” Major Watkins was content that no problem would occur. “Besides, I want you to take the company through a squad level infantry battle course followed by a pugil stick competition in the morning after first formation. If anyone is hungover, they can be reminded their purpose here is not to simply get drunk. Understood?”

Tak smiled, “yes sir! You can be mischievous, but I do appreciate your intent.” The large Klingon allowed a belly laugh to resound from his mouth, garnering the attention of only a few in the room.

[hr]

“Stand at, ease!” First Sergeant Cue commanded A Company, First Battalion 7th Starfleet Marine Infantry Regiment. The company was arrayed in formation inside the cargo bay with headquarters section on the right, then first platoon, second platoon, third platoon and the engineer platoon, which everyone had taken to calling fourth platoon. As soon as the fist sergeant bellowed his command, every marine in the bay moved from the position of attention to parade rest with all head and eyes focused on the company first sergeant.

“Good morning, Alpha Company!” the first sergeant yelled to the marines.

In unison they all responded quite loudly, “good morning, first sergeant!”

“As of two hours ago, the [i]USS Vigilance[/i] along with other ships of the 12th fleet have crossed the neutral zone. We are now in Romulan space.” No one reacted. They retained a placid appearance listening to the first sergeant. One person reacted. The company’s fire support officer (FSO), First Lieutenant (1LT) Jateel N'Plentar, originally from the planet Romulus. Jateel had not been to Romulus in about twelve years and hoped he might be able to gain some liberty to see his family.

“The Company Commander will tell you more about our mission in Romulan Space. This morning, Captain Tak will lead the squads of our platoon through the infantry battle course (IBC) in holosuite eight. He has created a routine with a hostile Klingon outpost for the squad to negotiate and eliminate if possible. He tells me each squad is only permitted to suffer no more than two casualties to receive a passing grade. Pay attention to your leaders and keep your heads on a swivel. Immediately following the IBC will have a battalion pugil stick competition in holosuite six.”

When the first sergeant was finished with his briefing for the company he came to the position of attention. “Company, Attention!” He commanded the company to the position of attention and then executed an about face. Major Watkins then marched out from where he had been standing near the door to the cargo bay. Major Watkins took a position in front of the first sergeant, facing the man and the company. The first sergeant rendered [i]present arms[/i], the company commander returned the hand salute and then both men dropped the salute. The first sergeant executed an about face and marched around the formation by moving to his left, the formation’s right by headquarters section and took up a position at the centered on the rear of the formation. As the first sergeant marched to the rear, the platoon commanders and company XO each performed the same action with their platoon sergeants and the operations sergeant. Now the Senior NCOs were all posted at the rear of the formations and the platoon commanders stood at the front of the formations. The CO put the company at parade rest and gave his presentation.

“As the first sergeant stated, we are now in Romulan Space. Does anyone know why we are in Romulan Space?” No one raised a hand. 1LT N'Plentar, naively listened from the headquarters section not knowing what would be said next. The Marines of A Company 1-7 were unaware of much outside the ship. They only heard what their officers told them and sometimes it was only the company commander’s reports that got to their ears.

“Well, there is no easy way to say this, so I’ll just put it out there. The Romulan homeworld of Romulus has been destroyed. The planet was the victim of a star that went supernova. A few ships were able to leave the planet before the planet was destroyed, and the Federation is tasked with a peacekeeping operation to help restore order in the sector and provide whatever comfort or aid they may need.”

Lieutenant N’Plentar was struck with grief. He was angry, hurt and confused. [i]‘No! This can’t be,’[/i] the Fire Support Officer thought to himself. He felt like he needed to leave the cargo bay. To return to his quarters. He raised a hand.

Major Watkins spotted the lieutenant. He knew this information would bother the Romulan more than anyone else. “Lieutenant N’Plentar?”

“Sir, may I return to my quarters, please?” The FSO asked the company commander.

“No, Lieutenant. I want to speak with you immediately following this formation.”

Emotion was something the Vulcans learned to stifle. The Romulans did not. Lieutenant N’Plentar was angry the commander denied his request. He resolved to remain quiet for the rest of formation and try to calm his emotions.

“Operation Vanguard will be the largest peacekeeping mission the galaxy has ever seen and we will be right in the middle of it. The eyes of trillions of people are on us. Billions of souls are looking to us to help them, to enable them the opportunity to survive this holocaust. I expect every marine in this company to be model Starfleet servicemembers, and to act in accordance with the Starfleet Creed. We represent the Federation.”

“While in a peacekeeping role, our rules of engagement (ROE) for this operation are as follows. You will be authorized to use deadly force if you observe a threat to your loss of life or serious bodily injury or perceive a threat to someone else’s loss of life or serious bodily injury. This means you can defend yourself and your fellow marines as well as the civilians we are being entrusted to defend. Not everyone we meet will be willing to play by the rules. Be careful about what you do. Be prepared to justify your actions even if you consider the decision to be trivial.”

“I know Captain Tak has some serious training planned for this afternoon. I will turn the formation back over to the first sergeant and get on with the training day. I want to see all the officers in holosuite five immediately following this formation. First Sergeant!”

The first sergeant marched forward and the other NCOs resumed their position at the front of their respective formations. All the officers marched out of the cargo bay.

“Do we need any equipment, sir?” Lieutenant Cham, the Bajoran second platoon leader asked.

“No, just yourselves.” Major Watkins wanted to speak with his officers alone. As they walked to holosuite five he spoke to his XO, “Tak, you only need remain for the beginning of the brief about the mission. I am conducting Physical fitness training with the lieutenants.”

“Roger that, sir.”

As the lieutenants and company commander conducted training in weightlifting and running in the holosuites, the rest of the company ran through squad level battle drills and situational  training exercises (STX). Eventually, the entire company regrouped inside holosuite six.

Major Watkins pulled Lieutenant N’Plentar aside during the officer’s Physical Fitness Training (PT). He placed his left hand on the young Romulan’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “I am very sorry to hear about your loss. I know this is difficult for you. I’m not even going to suggest that your family is still alive. The number of survivors from Romulus compared to the planet’s population at the time of its destruction was extremely miniscule. Most likely only dignitaries in the Romulan government made it out alive. If there is anything I can do to help you, please let me know. If you would like to speak to a health professional, to get some counselling, I can arrange that.” He looked warmly and compassionately at the Romulan lieutenant. “Now, I expect you to perform your duties as this unit’s Fire Support Officer without failing. Do you understand, Jateel?”

“Yes sir,” the lieutenant was forlorn, depressed. “Thank you sir.”

“Will you be able to lead fire support training for your section at 1300 hours in holosuite seven?”

“Yes sir. I know what I am doing. Chief Bowman knows the drill. He is a great asset. You can count on me, sir.” Lieutenant N’Plentar was serious about his work but couldn’t help thinking about his family. He would dwell on this issue for a long time to come.

[hr]

“Excuse me, sir,” Gunnery Sergeant Washington addressed the unit commander. “I’ve installed a physical fitness routine into Holosuite five and a gunner range routine in suite six. I’ve been working on a training schedule for level one skills starting immediately. I’ll need you to look it over. If you have any input on collective training ideas for you and your lieutenants, please share with me and I will get them set up in one of the holosuites.”

“Thanks, Gunny,” Major Watkins responded to his operations sergeant. “Do you happen to have the first sergeant’s personnel report?”

“Yes sir,” Gunny Washington, an African NCO from the American city of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania said as he handed his datapad to his commander.

Major Watkins looked it over mumbling to himself, “authorized 219, 209 on hand. Shortages, nine carabiners and one rifleman.” He stopped when he saw the next line, then looked up at Gunny Washington, staring him eye to eye. “Five cases of Andorian clap?! Seriously!?”

“Ah, yes sir. Apparently, some of the men went out for a night on the town before we left San Diego and bumped into some loose Andorian women and a little more fun than they expected.”

“Wonderful, I assume they have reported to sick bay?”

“Yes sir,” Gunnery Sergeant Washington responded with a smile. “The Andorians are acting up over Platoon Sergeant Skulvik.”

“Not this again!?” Major Watkins was annoyed at the racist contempt the Andorians displayed toward their one and only Vulcan in the company. “I know Platoon Sergeant Skulvik can take care of himself, but I’m going to ask the first sergeant to take care of this.”

“I need to head to the bridge. I’m sure the Captain will have something for us to do soon. I want to give him an update and tell him our training plan. Keep up the good work. Ask Captain Tak for his hand to hand combat routine. I want the officers and senior NCOs to begin training in the Klingon style of combat as soon as possible.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“That means you too, Gunny!”

“No problem, sir. I look forward to it.”

Major Watkins turned away and headed for the turbolift and the bridge.

He exited the lift to see the Bridge crew performing their duties. The Executive Officer, Commander Udrus, a Bajoran about the same age as himself sat in the Commander’s seat. Meanwhile, Major Watkins approached the Tactical Station and Lieutenant Commander Vuvius, the male Trill who was just a tad shorter than himself. He knew nothing about the position or the station the tactics officer stood in front of, but commanding the naval infantry contingent aboard ship, it seemed like a logical place for him to await the ship’s captain and his orders.