As the men carrying muskets and rifles took up temporary defensive positions at the town's edge, a small band of officers gathered around a lantern and a box. Upon the box was a map, which the lantern illuminated. The map had lines and numbers scrawled all over it, and the men were motioning with their fingers, tapping a line or pointing to a few words while discussing.
"Keep the men in these positions until dawn. The rest of the militia will be here in the morning. Our orders are to hold this road against the redcoats until General Washington routes the British forces here--" a man in a brown coat and a tricorner hat pointed to a few circles on the map "-- and relieves us. We'll establish a headquarters in that tavern there." He departed from the circle of officers and walked across the street to the tavern, opening the door and inspecting the dusty and abandoned interior. He motioned to a nearby man and said, "Get a redshirt... er, a brownshirt in here to clean up this mess. I imagine this place will be a bit livelier tomorrow."
A cart pulled up behind him. He spotted some familiar items in it: a coffee machine resembling his favorite astro-droid, a beat-up but reliable jukebox, and a distraught Johnathan Frakes half-crushed underneath a pool table. "Put this stuff inside. And be careful with that Commander... I don't think we changed his uniform before we packed him up."
He walked back out into the street and glanced back the way he had come. "Hmm... I think I see some reinforcements..."
Edited by Apocalypse, 09 July 2009 - 02:17 AM.