“Insolent. Arrogant. Insubordinate. Disrespectful. Unprofessional. Hell, Markus; one report even says unhygienic! And these are the ones you want to send? You are out of your mind…” The speaker was an older man in his mid-to-late sixties. His Star Fleet uniform was tailored to fit his svelte frame, and his hair was combed and styled immaculately. He also wore the rank of Fleet Captain. He was speaking to another man who was sitting in front of the speaker’s desk. That man had ebony skin and white hair. He too was wearing a Star Fleet uniform, but his was not as… ‘conspicuously perfect’… as the man’s whose office they sat in. But the man with the un-tailored uniform did have something the speaker lacked… Admiral rank insignia.

“Yeah it is.” Admiral Markus Green said with a grin. “And before you start, I know. They are wholly wild and probably the second biggest pain in my ass next to you. But… you can’t argue that they are the most effective, most adaptable, and most capable unit in the MACO. Think about it, Mike.” and the Admiral leaned forward. “This is the crew that held off over a hundred insurrectionists on Station 4 for almost a week.” Mike shook his head “Yeah yeah yeah… but they blew up the main hangar bay! Do you have any idea how many resources we have to allocate to repair that?!” “And they are the ones that extracted the Belarusian Senator from the hijacked freighter…” “They flew a shuttle with explosives into the bridge!” “The labor uprising they quashed on Venus “ “Seriously?! THEY UNIONIZED THE WORKERS, MARKUS.” “And they saved the mining crew from the cave-in on Luna.” There was a long pause and the Fleet Captain then said “Ok. That was pretty incredible.” Admiral Green chuckled. “So what is it, Mike? Do you you have a problem with them specifically, or just with how they get things done?” Fleet Captain Michael DeGiorno glared at his oldest friend for a long time.

“Yes.”

Three days later…

Four armed figures lounged around a dozen or so crates sitting in the shuttle bay of Mars Deployment Station Six. They weren’t in uniform, and had the looks of pirates more than anything else.

One was probably the most muscular and truly massive people on the entire planet. Long blonde hair in a ponytail that hung almost to the small of her back, Sergeant Frida Kristensen was intimidating to say the least. Pale skinned and with ice-blue eyes, she leaned against a stack of crates and cleaned a pistol.

Next to her sat a small man, probably no taller than five and a half feet and weighing maybe a hundred and twenty pounds; Staff Sergeant Bhavaroopa Tiwari was an unimposing figure… a trait that many had made the mistake of thinking meant ‘not dangerous’. Dark skin and dark hair and eyes showcased his Nepalese heritage. He was sitting on a crate, seemingly asleep.

A tall, lean figure was taking inventory of a crate. Shoulder length black hair hung loose from underneath, of all things, a cowboy hat that had belonged to Corporal Clyde Hutchins’ father. Tan skin and gray eyes took a count of the ammo clips in the crate. On his hips rested two pistols in holsters.

Lastly was a young woman, maybe in her early twenties, with brown hair and brown eyes. Glasses adorned her face and she sat tapping on a micro computer interface. Mission Specialist Jane Smith seemed off in her own little world.

“Anyone seen the boss?” the cowboy-hat wearing figure asked. “Last minute meeting with the brass.” the young woman said absent-mindedly. “Ja, they called him this morning.” Kristensen said. At that moment, a Star Fleet Commander approached, a look of stern derision on his face. “Excuse me!” he said, waving a hand for the group to come to him. He paused a moment, and stared as the four figures didn’t move and just glared. “What are you doing on my flight line? Civilians are not allowed-” and Jane cringed. “Oh no…” she whispered to herself as both Hutchins and Kristensen began to move to towards the Commander with violence in mind at the perceived slight.”

“They are with me, Commander.” said a deep voice with a thick German accent. Walking towards the group was a tall, blonde man who seemed cut directly from a recruiting poster. Broad shouldered and carrying himself with an aura of confidence and determination, he was dressed in the working uniform of the newly organized Military Assault Command Operations, or MACO, organization. “I am Captain Wulf Baumann. This is my team.” He handed the Commander a small folder and said “Our orders. We have a shuttle incoming, and we will be rendevousing with the SS Sojourner which is coming into orbit as we speak. Please feel free to verify, Commander.” As the Commandrr looked at the contents of the file, Baumann looked at his team. “Five minutes, in uniform and ready to load.” The four didn’t flinch, pause, or say a word. Two crates were opened and the four pulled out uniforms matching the Captain’s… and stripped then and there on the pad in full view of everyone. It garnered glances, to say the least. The Commander, unaware until he was done reading, looked up just in time to catch a full view of four half-naked MACO troops putting on their uniforms. He stared a moment, and Hutchins said “Take a picture, it’ll last ya longer.” and three of the four laughed. “Focus.” was the only word uttered by Tiwari, and the laughter ceased. “Aye aye, Staff Sergeant.” Hutchins said and resumed dressing. The Command looked at Baumann and was about to say something when the sounds of an approaching shuttle were heard. Baumann smiled slightly and said “Our ride, Commander. Unless you are here to help load, I would recommend perhaps being somewhere… else.” and he walked away, grabbed two large crates by their handles, swung them up on his shoulders and walked to where the shuttle was touching down.

Two hours later…

The last of the MACO gear was unloaded and secured in their designated area on Deck D. As the last crate was locked in, Baumann said “Fall in.” and the four lined up and came to attention. “At ease.” he said and was silent a moment. “This is our new home for as long as Command says so. We will treat it with respect and with the decorum I trust you can handle. We are part of a trial program to see if it is worth the resources and personnel to stage MACO teams on starship. So don’t f~<$ it up.” and the team smiled. “Now go find your berths, check in with the ahip’s medical officer, and I will endeavor to introduce us to the Command staff. Dismissed.” Baumann turned and exited the room.

Baumann, MACO CO