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Actionable Intelligence

Oversees day to day operations of UF Starfleet Marine Corps, leader and supervisor of all functions of the Corps, including TRACOM, FORCECOM and more.

Moderator: Penney Lancaster

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Cipher Rhode
UFS Civilian
UFS Civilian
Posts: 276
Joined: 070705.2027
Duty Post: Civilian
Ship/Station Posted: Unknown
Grid: Unknown
Has thanked: 25 times
Been thanked: 2 times


Paradise City, Nimbus III “The Planet of Galactic Peace”

Cipher blended into the the life of Paradise City seamlessly. To him, it was more natural than trying to be an officer at UFS. To him, this was home. Everywhere he walked, his stride was as if he belonged there. Nobody could tell the difference between a regular citizen, and a hunter waiting patiently for his prey.

The long dry-heated day in Paradise City soon turned into a cold, merciless night, deceiving those who did not come fully prepared for the hot days and cold nights of the desert. Being very little cloud cover during the day and night, there was nothing to trap the heat from the daytime within the lower atmosphere from escaping into the night sky as the sun set.

Cipher walked into the of the most well-known “neighborhood establishments” in Paradise City. He took a seat at a booth in the farthest corner of the “establishment”. It was situated closed to the back door of the Bar, but it was a perfect vantage point for him to watch as his back would never face either the front nor the back doors. In case things got heated, he could see what was coming and see where he can make his escape.

He sat back and pulled off his hood, revealing his growing hair and beard of one that has traveled far, and has far more to go. He looked up and noticed an Orion waitress walk towards him. “Well hello there gentleman traveler. The usual?” she asks him.

“Yes ma’am,” he responds to her, showing his strips of latinum that she knows he’s been very, very generous to her for.

The waitress slid back the symbols of currency to him. “I don’t know about you, but I know our food can’t be that good. This first one is on me tonight.”

“Now you don’t have to do that my dear. I always try to show gratitude for the cuisine I enjoy along the way.”

The waitress laughed and folded her arms. “Ha, now I know you’re lying. Why else would you come here?”

Cipher nodded to the Dance Coordinator/DJ working the dance floor with patrons having a good, albeit, drunken time. “I like the ambience.”

The waitress shook her head as she proceeded to procure his order. He sat back and relaxed as soon, just as he expected, his quarry walked into the bar. J’Ula, alongside her second in command, came in to dominate the atmosphere of the room. Cipher just took in the ‘ambience’ of the setting and thanked his waitress for bringing his order. To further blend into the scene, he gave his waitress a firm yet loud SLAP on her ample, voluptuous booty, all the while slipping those same strips of latinum back into her garter with a slight of hand maneuver. Though the waitress gasped in shock, her green face couldn’t hide her blushing from being suddenly aroused by the mocha-skinned human.

Cipher kept tabs on J’Ula and her people. What were they doing on Nimbus III? The first answer, J’Ula was looking to re-organize House Mo’kai, according to his last repot, and have them meet up here, right under the Federation’s sensors. Next question, where is her ship and how are they maintaining it as this planet DOES NOT have the facilities to tend to it? This was the other piece to the puzzle that keeps Cipher here. He knows his job is to infiltrate and investigate, not to fight.

The doors opened from the front again. Three Nakhul crewmen walked in close formation through the entrance, in uniform. The uniform stuck out to Cipher and it only meant one thing, TLF, Temporal Liberation Front. The lead officer immediately took the seat to J’Ula’s left as she drank her bloodwine. He was expected, Cipher thought to himself. He pulled out his CrossCom monocle and started to record their meeting, trying to gleam any audio that he can from his surveillance. Why the hell would J’Ula want to hang out with these folks? She knows she can’t go back home. Is she looking to pull up the old House Mo’kai playbook and reek havoc? These and many more questions cycled through his mind as the Nakhul and J’Ula’s crew start to share drinks and greetings. Feeling he has just enough for a good case, Cipher slips more latinum strips under his cleaned plate and starts to take his leave, pulling up his hood as he heads out into the night.

Nimbus Desert, 1km from Paradise City

Cipher banged on the front gate of the local rock and mineral quarry, telling the keepers to let him in. Cipher’s cover was that of a Journeyman Weaponsmith. Setting up his shop at the same place where material would be gathered from made sense, for him and his customers. It especially made sense for customers that came into contact with the local wildlife that prove to be very deadly and somewhat resistant to their weapons that they travel with. It also provided him access to their local canteen shop, which happened to have access to subspace mail.

Cipher nods to the owner as he proceeds to the mailing booth. He pays with booth with latinum and starts to send an audio and video message as if he’s saying hello to family. “Yáʼátʼééh kwá’ásiní, łáaʼii góne’ wol-doni dóó kǫ́ǫdi,” Cipher says, hoping that someone at Section 31 is actually up to date and fluent in Navajo. {The first target is here. First Target has now joined with Time Stoppers. First Target ship status, unknown. I will let you know as soon as I know more. Be safe.} Cipher sends his Navajo message through, knowing that even after several centuries after Earth’s Second World War, the Navajo code has yet to have been broken. And now, comes the long part of playing make-believe, waiting for the response to come and to receive it at a predetermined time.

Cipher knows case work is never easy, never instant. He figured that during his days in recon. However, being that so much is now on the line, and with an entire department to lead (unofficially), this could be just the shot in the arm the Federation needs to not just go back to its mission of exploration, but dispel the fear of playing some rough defense.
LtCol Christopher "Cipher" Rhode, UFSMC-Retired
Chairman & Chief Executive Officer
ARMOR Holdings Corp.

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