The Special Forces Network proudly presents:
WHEN TITANS CLASH
Act One: Avengers Assemble!
Tensions were high in the Special Forces Tavern as the commandos filed in for the meeting. The tentative gestures of fellowship with the Fellowship were a thing of the past. Minor border skirmishes had turned into full-scale battles. Without an official declaration, both sides found themselves at war. Not just any war, but a dark, close-fought, tooth-and-nail conflict the likes of which the Metaverse had not seen for some time.
Wild Wombat had called this strategy meeting to plan the opening stages of the campaign. He stood, an imposing figure, at the front of the room, quietly discussing a few minor points with Hurley. The mighty penguin diplomat had been working on prying an official statement of neutrality out of the Euros. Judging by the size of the file folder he was holding - and also the squadron of freighters, loaded with forms, at the nearby spaceport - it seemed that the negotiations still needed a little work.
Of more importance to the rest of the SF troopers was Piers, as he was tending bar. Quack and blacksmoke were nowhere to be seen, but the other members were working on their beverages of choice; a vodka martini for Jaws (shaken, not stirred), a nice red for Killa, schnapps for Ben, a Shirley Temple for GoblinCookie...
Wombie finished with Hurls, and called the meeting to order. It took him a moment to realize that nobody had noticed. Miffed, he climbed on top of the bar. As it was the center of attention, he was quickly able to get things moving properly.
"All right!" he began. "It's war!" He crashed his mailed Iron Paw into the top of the polished bar for emphasis. Piers winced as he saw the damage. "WAR!"
"To WAR!" cheered the commandos, and clinked their glasses together.
Wombie rose to his full height and began pacing back and forth down the length of the bar, absently clicking a few ball bearings together in one paw. "As you know, men - and Ginata -"
"To GINATA!"
"- we have to make the most of our limited resources here. The main fleet of the Fellowship is nearly five times as large as ours. It's based at an orbital dockyard at their Political Capital in the Tolkien system. We need to take out that fleet on OUR terms. If we just fly in there, we're outgunned."
Wombie carefully eyed the group. He knew that the next part might cause some problems.
"What you most of you don't know is that Quack and blacksmoke were sent on a SECRET MISSION into Fellowship territory two days ago, just before the shooting started. They were supposed to infiltrate a secret command bunker located 50 meters underground, beneath the Prancing Pony. This command bunker controls several key systems for that orbiting dockyard; including, most importantly for us, its long-range sensors. Quack and blacksmoke were SUPPOSED to knock out the sensors so that we could get a fleet there undetected -"
Mr. Furious was wildly waving a hand, his temples visibly pounding. "Wait a minute! If they were already taking out the sensors, why wasn't our fleet moving yet?"
Wombie tried to look imposing for another minute, couldn't pull it off, coughed nervously.
"We...umm...were drunk. Anyway, they made it to the Prancing Pony, and reported in to Piers. Since then, we've had no contact with them. It's likely that they've been captured, or worse. If they're still alive, the longer we wait, the more likely that they'll crack under interrogation, and our entire attack plan will be compromised."
From somewhere, a bass-heavy music theme started playing, almost disco-like, slowly growing in volume.
"Special Ones...we need to get our drinking buddies back! Harel, Cypher and Killa - you're our combat specialists - BRING OUR BOYS HOME!"
[SF PROFILE: HAREL EILAM, a.k.a. "THE ASSASSIN" - specialist in tactical nuclear weapons, hand-to-hand combat, pistols, Monty Python references]
[SF PROFILE: KILLA KOALA - specialist in drop-bear tactics, fine wines, classical literature]
[SF PROFILE: CYPHER PAX, a.k.a. "THE BUNDY BEAR" - specialist in arctic survival, heavy drop-bear
tactics, beer sales]
"Special Ones...we need to get those sensors off-line! Nand1, Furious and Ben - COME ON DOWN!"
[SF PROFILE: NAND1 - specialist in Diablo tournaments, Imperial intel, being very, very evil]
[SF PROFILE: MR. FURIOUS, a.k.a. "THE MYSTERY MAN" - specialist in observation, quiet reflection,
blinding rage, manic attack techniques]
[SF PROFILE: SAMURAI BEN - specialist in edged weapons, alcohol-fueled psychic abilities, extended
prose explanations of what are in essence painfully simple topics]
"Special Ones...we need to coordinate this mess! Piers, that's you! GoblinCookie, he's going to
need help with all of that tech gear; we're COUNTING on you, too!"
[SF PROFILE: PIERSKAZANSKI - specialist in codebreaking, surveillance, electronics systems, ordinance, explosives, piloting, homebrewing, model railroading]
[SF PROFILE: GOBLINCOOKIE - specialist in being "the new guy" - but willing to learn!]
"And finally, Special Ones...we need to take out that fleet!" Wombat pulled one of the beer taps; the lights faded, and the top surface of the bar (dented only slightly) illuminated to reveal a computer simulation of the space surrounding the Tolkien system. "The rest of you are with me...we'll hold as long as we can for the signal from Team 2." He pointed at two very large icons. "Ginata and Jaws, we'll need your ships to take the brunt of it - they're the largest and heaviest-gunned in the Metaverse..."
[SF PROFILE: GINATA EL BOHEMIO - specialist in galactic domination, caffiene consumption, fashion]
[SF PROFILE: JAWS THE WAYFARER - specialist in raw meat consumption, Sean Connery impersonations, tact and discretion]
"...I'll be commanding from the Iron Paw," Wombie continued, pointing at a smaller ship, built for speed and mobility. "Hurls, we need you to command the Detox since Quack isn't here - you're the only other one who'll fit in the captain's chair." The icon for the Detox correctly showed the whirling "mixmaster" blades of the oversized alcohol holds; Piers congratulated himself for improving the resolution on the display. "Monkson and Weasel, you'll lead the fighter wings," finished Wombie, pointing at two cloudlike squadrons surrounding the SF's lone carrier.
[SF PROFILE: GENERAL "HOWLING" WILD WOMBAT - specialist in motivational speaking, blood pressure
reduction techniques, supercomputer programming and system diagnostics]
[SF PROFILE: HURLEY - specialist in diplomacy, bluntness, paperwork, shredding paper]
[SF PROFILE: MONKSON - specialist in Jedi starfighter design and common sense, the latter making him a real rarity around here]
[SF PROFILE: WEASEL OF THE HOOD - specialist in flight operations, mobility and disguises]
The music rose to a glorious crescendo. As one, the team turned to the door...
KitWarrior stuck his head in the door. "Cool music, guys! Reminds me of 'Thunder - Thunder - THUNDERCATS!!!'"
Hurls hit Kit on the head with a barstool. "I HATED 'Thundercats.'"
WHAT HAPPENED to blacksmoke and Quack?
WILL the Special Forces bring their missing comrades back alive?
WILL they rout the forces of the mighty Fellowship?
HOW BAD will Kit's headache be when he wakes up?
WILL he think it's just another hangover?
Stay tuned for the next episode, where you'll meet:
[SF PROFILE: BLACKSMOKE - Specialist in stealth and covert operations]
[SF PROFILE: THE QUACK - Specialist in bourbon, scotch, beer, love poetry]
Brought to you by The Special Forces Network, in affiliation with PBP's Wookiee Lovin' Enterprises.
Stardock Forums
Welcome to the home of Special Forces. 
) the first place in the Metaverse. Oh!!! Very dark days are ahead of the lovers of peace and harmony. The raiders of the Apocalipsys have risen, dark days ahead, said I must said. 
