NationStates Jolt Archive

Intercepted high-level communication from Earth to the Elysium local government notes that Admiral Jane West has just escaped from custody (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=6718192&posted=1#post6718192) on Earth and taken illegal control of a ship. That ship is on a Mars-Bound trajectory at a high (for Wazzu) rate of acceleration.

The communication orders local government to apprehend Admiral West without damage to property or injury to her or others. It is (electronically) signed by the Wazzu Supreme Court.

The communication is NOT highly encoded, the extreme ease in which it is deciphered indicates that the issuers of the message apparently want it to be intercepted without the public appearance of such.

A few Wazzu warships near Earth have broken off in apparent pursuit, but it is too early to see yet how Mars orbiting assets will respond.

Admiral West watched the screens in her suite as the red planet approached. She could be on the bridge of course, but she hated to lean on the captains. Skippers were valuable commodities who valued their freedom of action, it was a shameful waste to oppress their initiative.

Her room-wide screens also showed several bright spots around her, each 5 the powerful thrusters of a gunboat. But they hadn't moved in for the kill. The Judiciary must not want her dead.

Captured, she thought, they wan't me in jail. It wouldn't go over well any other way...and here I am walking into their hands. Mars loomed close now, and the corvette was still breaking.

"Admiral," a voice rang over the intercom, "we'll be docked in twenty minutes."

"Thank you Chief." she sang back. Twenty minutes. West began to mentally prepare herself. No plan survived first contact with the enemy, and she was winging it. The future lay like a grey fog in front of her.

Govenor Chance Baily watched as the dock hatch slid open, revealing a middle aged woman. She's twice my age. he recalled, looking on her only lightly wrinkled face. Baily's own 107 years had not been as kind to him, though his body still had the energy of a 30 year old thanks to the lifesaving drug Rejuv. What it must be to be a Gen decendant. I wonder how much stigma that came with, how many friends she has lost.

"Admiral, I heard you were comming...on about 50 different news channels besides the Judicial orders comming over tachyon every five minutes."

Admiral West smiled, though the rest of her face showed some amount of shock. "Govenor Baily, thats not how you talk to a convict your about to arrest, is it?"

"Who said anything about arresting you? While Proper was playing riot, we were still trading out here. They might not get it, but that trade would have stopped without you, perminately. I don't think too many people here are mad at you."

"But aren't you worried about loosing your job?"

The governer laughed, "The day that the Exec or Jude pushes an old dog like me out of position is the day they loose a considerable investment. Though, I'm kinda stuck with them too."

Baily watched as understanding of this information crossed her face. Yes, you know, don't you? I don't have to do anything myself, but I can't join you either.

Admiral West nodded. "Listen, Govenor, I've always wanted to see the Redwood groves you've planted, but I fear I may never again get the chance. Mind if I take a short vacation?"

"Admiral, you can stay to your heart's content, or until your mind's disapproval. I won't block your way."

West smiled, did a half bow half curtsy, and stepped off towards the orbital dock. Heads and eyes everywhere followed her path. Few noticed as Govenor Baily did that half a dozen high-ranking officers in civvies followed close behind.

Tag

[[OOC: This is an open RP if anyone wants to join in. All I ask is that you stay in character.]]

The Sequoia had only been on Mars a scant two centuries or so, far fewer then their Earthly counterparts. Yet thanks to good management and the low gravity of Mars, they already near rivaled their ancestors in height and girth.\

How strangely beautiful these Earth trees are on Mars. Whatever happens in the near future, I am glad I came here. Admiral West found a picnic table and sat down with her ranking officers…they didn’t look happy.

“I guess I should be thankful,” she looked at the young corvette skipper who had snatched her from the Judiciary, “and I am.” She smiled. “But now this brings on difficult choices for all of us.”

“What’s difficult Admiral?” That was Commodore Tully, who was to lead the fleet that had been assembling here since long before the Chief’s assassination. “When the Judiciary sees that the entire fleet supports your actions, they will reverse their decision.”

This time, West’s smile was sad. “Commodore, you’ve a great mind for leadership, but I don’t think you’ve delt with politics much.” The man shook his head. “The Judiciary will not reverse their course and there are elements of the WIDF that will not support me. Nor would I have anyone here rebel in my favor, there is too much to risk, and too much to loose. Our soldiers have families.”

There was a reverent silence, the officers at the table did care for their men, each and every one.

“Then what will you do?” Came the question.

“Head out-system, with a couple of people I have already damned. The outcasts may take me up, or I can hide among independent merchants, miners, hell even pirates!” Uneasy laughs rang out around the table and West briefly and non-seriously contemplated what a joy she would be to a pirate band. With a shudder, she continued.

“My first act will be to pirate a vessel. Commodore Simmons, I’m stealing one of your Squires.” This time the laughs we’re good natured, there wasn’t a one of them that wouldn’t let go of one of the quick craft to her…and nothing but the quick, low-man necessary Squires could accommodate her while preventing too high a risk of loosing technology to another power.

“And of us?”

“Stay here, carry out standing and last orders, and wait for the Exec to get off their collective hairy butts to get everything in order again. I dare think they may send you after me. Don’t come too fast, eh?” It wasn’t necessary for her to plead, they wouldn’t. No, it probably wouldn’t be for a couple decades yet when new people came into the service that she would be actively and systematically hunted down. She’d have to use that time wisely to hide well.

“I don’t know what’s going on in the Gregor system, but you may yet find yourselves defending home. Be ready for it.” Again, she pleaded the last. Oh how it hurt to be leaving. “I have a couple friends waiting at the spaceport. I think gentlebeings, this is goodbye.”

All stood, hands were shaken, hugs were exchanged, and Admiral West walked away. Her face now turned away from her leaders, a tear rolled down her cheek, and she was sure to touch the great old trees as she walked down a path towards an unknown future.

******

It wasn’t two friends who greeted her at the spaceport, but three. Juna had sent a pilot and engineer…and a young man who once served a General by disobeying orders and activating the Earth defense net not too long ago. They were her crew, and beyond them lay a fully fueled and armed Squire conveniently unguarded with a note posted inside. “Complements of Commodore Tully.”

A unannounced and unauthorized launch later, a certain stolen Squire was in open space, headed for Jupiter at top speed.

SNN Elysium (http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=297&st=0&) Branch Local News.

A single comm laser on an orbiting satillite oriented on the Squire and fired off a quick burst at the rapidly retreating reciever. The satillite's own reception dish swung into alignment to await a return transmission. The contents of the message itself were simple and to the point.

'There are many places to run. We can offer suggestions and perhaps friends. LSC(29824.942x3384.228x45.88)'

----

There were those in Intel as well as those in the Fleet who had paid attention to Admiral West's escape and were more than willing to provide a way out. Some were, of course interested in their own gain, but there were others who were simply willing to aid a fellow officer in need.

Wazzu Proper, Earth

“I traveled 75 lightyears to get here and your conferencing by vid from mere miles away?!” It was clear even to a human that Therian Senior Captain Rashak was shocked…so were the two other members of the new consortium that had been founded.

When Rios remade the constitution, she had intended to be at it’s head. But without her, and with the Judicial ruling, Wazzu was no longer strictly under human control. Now, a Therian, a (Norden) Elf, and a Protoss sat around a table alongside a very unhappy looking holographic Human.

“We in the Dominion never meet together…it makes for too concentrated a target.”

Paranoid humans the Rashak shared the thought with the Protoss sitting nearby.

“Fine.” Said Rashak, “I shall remember that in the future.” The Human winced. “Until then, on to business.”

“Uhh, yes, well, you see we have this little problem. An Admiral of ours was convicted of treason and is currently headed out for Jupiter. Due to recent events, we don’t have any assets out there we fully trust that can apprehend her. I were hoping,” the Human coughed it out, “You could help get her?”

The reptilian Therian laughed aloud. “As I understand it, this new constitution of yours makes the Dominion a protectorate as well. Before we were semi-independent, now we are your independent legal equals, and you want us to do something for you? I spend lots just getting to this meeting and you can’t even show up none-the-less apologize or ask for help politely. The answer from the Empire is no.”

“The Conclave answer is no.” the Protoss said, speaking ungainly in the Human tongue.

“I’m afraid the Dynasty can not help the Dominion.” Responded the Norden “Elf”. But no one had expected them to…they didn’t have spaceflight.

The Human looked dejected. “On to other matters then.” He grumbled.

******

"So are we going to take it Captain?"

"Not yet. They didn't put a time limit on it and I have a certain Lieutenant to pick up at Jupiter first. Besides which, I know a place we can go for a while."

[[OOC: It is going to be soooo fun to get this mixed in with the mess going on at Jupiter. :) ]]

The Pillar

A small ship hiding behind a stray asteroid a while off the asteroid belt near Mars is running an active scan of the area as Admiral West's ship leaves Mars.

"Captain Winters, we seem to have picked up a small, fast ship moving away from Mars."

"Well, what does that have to do with anything? It could be just a merchant vessel, or a family on vacation." The captain wasn't in the mood for useless comments, they had been there for at least three days with no pickups.

"It seems that this ship has no escort, it's flying alone. And it's departure time makes it possibly the ship of that Admiral West that was mentioned in the transmission we picked up."

"Adam, why didn't you mention that in the first place? We're losing valuable time. We need to follow, but not be seen. We might be able to get a bounty off of that ship, or better, she may pay us as an escort. Lieutenant Geralts, head into the Belt, but try to maintain a visual. We want to use the asteroids to avoid detecion on scanners, but that also means we won't be able to use our's to find them. Let's head out." The captain was a little over enthusiastic. Of course this could have been the break of a lifetime.

"Captain, shouldn't we notify the rest of the crew to brace for liftoff?"

"No, they'll be fine, we have to maintain radio silence. No need to make more noise than necessary."

And so they set out to pursue the Squire in hopes of a profit, this may have been their big chance.

Squires were optimized for a a few things, speed (for their size) being one of them...but sensors were not. They were meant to operate in groups, to support each other, and often to be supported by larger ships. Bulky sensors were not something you wanted on a fast, manuverable, high-power attack craft.

Despite its superior construction, the stolen Squire never detected the shadowing ship.

After cruising at a slow speed until the Squire had passed them by the swept into visual range from behind. Now that they had a visual they could use the markings and features to determine the model of the vessel.

"Sir, we're running intel programs to determine what wer're following. Then we should be able to decide whether or not we'll need to use force."

"Good, notify me as soon as we are sure of the model. Then send me a report of known nations that support that model. I'd like to know what we're dealing with. I'll be in my quarters working on a diplomatic transmission." The captain walked off of the bridge to his quarters after giving the orders and began to write the first draft of the transmission.

Back on the bridge: "You heard the man let's get things going." This was the ever present voice of Major Pierce McHenry. He would assume an iron-fist command while the captain was away. No one liked him.

Wazzu Council Meeting, Earth, Continued

“Your moving out of the system?” the Human, Jay Phillipo, asked astonishedly.

“Jupiter is becoming a hotspot of the solar system again. We tried to find a way to pacify it, but we couldn’t come up with the resources. Even you can’t seem to hold onto it. As I hear it, your rebel Admiral is pirating a foreign station of her own accord.”

The Human’s face grew red at the Therian Senior Captain’s words. “But what about the resources? It is probably the last free area to mine hydrogen in the system.” And the last point of trade we have with you. he thought, but didn’t say.

“Don’t worry about the trade, it’ll be good for you to learn to get out of the cradle of civilization.” The Therian said, reading the aliens face rather then thoughts, “We will make another port not too far away. As for resources, we have found a better source.”

The Protoss in the room spoke up. “We could perhaps provide a temporary trade route between these areas, though it would be prohibitively expensive.” Not as expensive as I make out, but that should appease both the aliens. the being thought to itself.

******

Jim Hanna’s Bar, Ares Trading Station, Mars Orbit

Commodore Tully read the message just hand delivered. “They want me to take the fleet to Jupiter.” He spoke to Governor Baily.

“Gee, I wonder what for,” Baily responded sarcastically. “But sure, why not?”

Tully looked at his political counterpart with a quizzical expression.

“Oh common now Tully! You want to help her, your people want to join her, and my people think Earth is going to use your people to trounce on them. The only thing holding you back is her orders.”

“That is because I am honorable enough to respect her last wish and order.”

“Goobilygook!” The Governor responded. “She is trying to save you from trouble, but she is the one in trouble. You owe it to her to help her, and if you don’t, your honor doesn’t mean jack.”

Tully felt a race of anger and defensiveness as he digested this, but somewhere inside he knew the old politician was right. It was something he literally felt in his gut.

“Look Tully, if you don’t go, the Dominion Execs will go after you anyway. You have to go now…and if you go, you may as well just switch sides. Hell, people here will trust you more after that.” The governor was smiling, “Don’t you just love politics?”

“No.” Tully said it quickly and forcefully…he really didn’t. He kept his chain of command clean and clear, it helped everyone concentrate on the task at hand. But somehow, both Baily’s politics and Tully’s COC were telling him to leave, and these contradicted only his pride, not his heart.

“So be it then.” Tully took a shot and slammed the glass on the counter. “To Jupiter, to whatever fate awaits.”

------

Not long after, Martians breathed easier as a large Wazzu fleet, fewer then 40 vessels, departed for a gas giant safely far away.

It wasn’t the only Wazzu fleet headed there…another smaller one strode fourth from Earth.

In the comparative (but not complete) absence of escorts, many Wazzu trading vessels made for safe port around Venus, Earth, Mars, and Saturn.

The captain had been working on the message he would send to the Squire they had been trailing when a voice came over the intercom in his quarters.

"Sir, we have picked up a fleet moving towards Jupiter from Mars. Soon they will be within visual range. We do not doubt that they have already detected our presence. I feel that it may be an escort attempting to trap vessels like ourselves that might be chasing the Squire. Oh, by the way, the information you asked for has been wired down to your panel. What do you suppose we should do?"

The captain checked the computer panel in his room and looked over the information on the Squire. After a few moments of thinking he responded. "Don't move from behind the Squire. Stay in postition. I'm sure the fleet knows that we see them, and if we moved out of the way may appear as hostile. I'll be on deck in a moment." The captain made his way from his room to the deck where he would resume his place of command. "Thank you major Pierce, I'll be taking over again now. Adam, open a transmission to the Squire."

"Yes sir." Adam did what he had to do to establish an open transmission with the Squire.

"Hello, this is Captain Johnathan Winters of the Pillar. We have intercepted a transmission that informed us that you may be hunted at the moment. Now, we are offering to escort you to your destination, for a small fee of course. Please consider this offer, there are other things we can do with you ship."

OOC: Thanks for finally replying, but I'm sorry, you've waited too long. The Squire is already at Corsica Station orbiting Jupiter. (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=344744&highlight=Wazzu)

The door to the station hissed open, and Admiral Brayson and Commodore Tully found themselves standing in front of a very tired looking Admiral West.

"Admiral West, this is entirely unneccessary." Began Brayson. "You've come here, captured a station, and gotten a nation you've defected in a serious international squabble, and now you demand my presence to end it?"

Commodore Tully couldn't hold back a pained look. "Brayson," he left out the newly appointed 'Admiral's' title, "you're an idiot, you always have been an idiot, and you always will be."

It took West to stop Brayson from responding in his typical fashon, the "braying" that many inner circles in the Wazzu military silently laughed at. Purple in the face, Brayson still listened to West, thinking himself reserved and thoughtful.

"Admiral," in actuallity, it was hearing West speak his title that shut him up, "they" she meant the Valinon fleet presence outside "might not know of the mutiny attempts, and some successes that just took place, but we are under no such ignorence. All our ships here are crewed by people, people with opinions, people with families. Even this stations new security personel are crewed with people." A general behind West nodded thanks at the recognition of her troops.

"You're threatening me with hostile takeover?"

"No, she's not," Tully said, "she is just pointing out that we are in one pretty fine mess."

This, even the thickheaded Brayson could not, and would not oppose. But it was West who spoke again.

"We aren't going to get a clean idea of who is for who unless we transfer people around. We give them two choices, stay with Wazzu or follow me into exile. After that, we'll be out of your hair for good."

"And so we split people between ships by who they follow." Brayson carefully held back a smile behind a thoughtful look. "Yes, that very well may work. You don't mind if I make the announcement, do you?"

"By all means, Admiral, please do so." West allowed.

Brayson noded, gave a slight bow of his head, and quickly turned back towards his transport. A grin spread from ear to ear as soon as his face was no longer showing, and he passed through the airlock in secure knowledge that people had families, people were loyal, people knew West was a criminal, a traitor. He'd get the lion's share of ships and crew, and with it he'd escort West back to Earth by force....

Mr. Blake walked confidently down the halls of the government center. His destination? A secure holo-communications area. Wazzu's government had been far too paranoid to have all it's leaders in one spot for a very very long time, and this was the only practical way of communicating with all of them.

Guards stood in front of the massive doors to the chamber, and noded to him as he approached. They knew him, but he still had to go through several identification checks and (in some instances very embarassing) body scans. But eventually he was in the room, massive doors shut behind him.

He walked up to a podeum, picked up a pair of glasses, and was imersed in the environment as he put them on. The very real chairs and table that had been in front of him were now filled with very virtual (but very real looking!) images of Wazzu's executive board. Empty ghost images of seats to either side of him told him that the Advisory Council would NOT be present for this.

It was the very serious discussion he had been ready for his entire life, and for a moment, just a moment, he reflected on the unexpected events that had triggered it.

"Chairman," he spoke up, "You requested my presence...."

******

The meeting lasted several hours, and despite feeling drained at the end, Blake believed he had made a favorable impression. So favorable, he believed they would directly and completly follow his initiatives. They would need to. Wazzu's fleet was already old, and with West's defection it was half gone.

******

"So what do you think?" Asked the chairman, Wazzu's acting Cheif Executive Board Member, of his fellows.

"The man has a point...or rather, several. But there is a lot he doesn't know." One spoke up.

"Agreed." Said another, to several other virtual nods and grunts of consent.

"Like what?" The chairman asked of the first, of information not known.

"Mars." The one said. "Crime is high, taxes are higher. Is it any wonder West escaped there?"

There was no such wonder. Those who got to the Executive Board were all very intelligent...you had to be to climb the polito-corporate ladder that far...and unlike many large government assemblies around the globe, their small group usually worked well together...though not always to the pure benifit of Wazzu.

But now, even without a true, strong leader, they all knew what had to be done. To make sure it was clear, the Chairman spoke up.

"So in the short term, we modernize weapons, refit civilian vessels, put small craft back into production, take some older craft out of mothballs, increase our training command, and...fix Mars." Virtual nods showed that everyone did truely understand.

"And in the intermediate, we give TransCorp the go to restart project Deviant." Again, acceptance was shown.

"And for the long term, we fund TransCorp to design a whole new and distinctly Wazzuian craft." One last time, the ghostly heads of many board members bobbed up and down in unharmonic unison.

"Then it is so decided, and I hope its a good decision, because we are looking at spending a lot of money." The new tax rate would be very unpopular....

High above Wazzu, in the floating (by bouyancy, not gravitics) city of "Southfort", an aging Elizabeth Wang sat in her expensive condo reading reports from TransCorp. She didn't really have an official position with the company, she just happened to be it's largest shareholder...by far.

With a lack of grace that belayed the beauty of her flat's Westward view, Ms. Wang spit out her mouthfull of coffee in the classic showing of a horrid suprise. "THEY WANT TO DO WHAT?!?!?!" Her scream rang through the empty (but her) rooms of her place.

No! she thought, They are not going to arm that child and send her into mindless combat, not if I have anything to say about it!

But Liz Wang knew she couldn't just storm into the Executive Board room and force her case down their throats. Her fortune might make her powerful both in the corporate and political worlds of Wazzu, but it wouldn't even phase the now leaderless, paranoid, and scrambling Wazzu government. Her reports showed that they wanted weapons, needed[ weapons, and couldn't pay enough to get them as fast as possible.

Even the news had reported that taxes had just been raised by a full 7%, practical political suicide by the powers that be. They were desperate, and Liz needed another plan.

After several minutes of breathing exercizes, Liz was calm enough to put a shaky hand into her pocket and retrieve her phone. She placed it in her ear and called a potential ally.

******

"Juna, I'll be taking a trip soon on my Yacht, you should join me."

******

Not too long afterwards, Liz was blasting up through the atmosphere in her personal flyer on her way towards a Mangalan currier. The currier would taker her to Mars...where one-time CEBM candidate and now long-time Hermes Spacelines "Space Czar" Juna would meet for a solar-sailing flight.

Thanks to the speed and efficiency of Mangalan curriers, it wasn't long before Elizabeth Wang was sitting in her solar yacht a table across from Hermes Spaceline's 'Space Czar.'

"THEY WANT TO DO WHAT!?!?" Juna's reaction mirrored the one Liz had sometime earlier.

"To arm Megan," Liz replied, "to turn her into a warship."

Megan was a very large, very experimental Wazzu spacecraft meant to make extra-long hyperspace jumps (for Wazzu, that was anything over 7-10 lightyears) in order to map out nearby solar systems.

Actually, more accurately, Megan was an 8 year old little girl who had had the terrible misfortune of being born with a body even modern (2500+ BC) could neither cure nor replace. The alternative was to remove the brain, give it an implant that put the billion-dollar neural-cybernetic connections of ace navigator-gunner pilots to shame, and stick her in a starship as experimental as her operation.

The little girl, Megan, had been getting along wonderfully and looking forward at a second chance at life. She was destined for exploration fame and glory.

To think that she was now destined for war was...well...unthinkable.

"We've got to go to the Executive Board!" Juna exclaimed, "We've got to stop this!" As she started to get alarmed that she was on a slow solar yacht, Liz Wang corrected her.

"Do you honestly think the Board will listen to either or both of us?"

Juna's energy drained as her heart broke. "No." she said, dejectedly.

"I can only think of one thing we can do." Liz said, rekindling some hope in the Hermes leader. "There is one person who can help us.

"West."

"Are you crazy?" Juna looked at the well-known TransCorp stock owner. "That lady took half the Wazzu fleet, she's as likely to take half mine!"

"Thats not true and you know it." Liz replied, as Juna looked around expecting to see some government planted bug...though it was obvious there were none on the ship...just one reason for taking it. Liz continued, "West ran, some people followed, and none of them can get back. That lady as you call her is in the perfect position to save our child. And your in the perfect position to contact her."

Juna thought about this for a moment. "Ok," she said, "but it'll take time. If we go quickly, it'll arouse suspicion. I'll need at least a month to deliver the message."

"And West will need more to act on it." Liz replied. "But thats OK. The ship is almost complete, and once done, it'll take time to convert it." A black silence decended on the pair for a second, knowing just what 'convert it' meant. "But I'll make sure that procedures allow West a perfect oppertunity...."

******

The solar yacht turned 45 degrees towards the counter orbit, and the momentum of light itself reflected off into space, taking the ship back towards Earth.

Two months later…

Jeff and Margrett Hughs felt the ship shudder under their feet. Were they moving? A quick glance out the window confirmed it. They weren’t supposed to be though. “Megan, whats happening?” Margrett asked.

“It’s OK mom, the nice lady said we are going to a new home….”

******

Elizabeth Wang was just approaching Comet shipyards in her personal flyer (a sporty little fusion powered craft) when she saw the great ship move. It was then that she knew West had succeeded. Now came the hard part.

Liz keyed the com. “Comet station, why’s that ship moving?

“Comet station?”

The lag was a testament to just how confused the shipyard was…no one kept the primary shareholder of their company out of the loop.

“We don’t know Ma’am, we’re working on it.” came back the voice of a fearful employee.

“Don’t you think you’d better stop it?” Liz’s voice was stern, but she was smiling despite herself. The Admiral had been successful, there was no stopping her now, and Liz didn’t have to hide her expression behind a mask here were the control station couldn’t see her.

“Yes Ma’am!” the reply came back, just as the ship accelerated away as only FTL ships could…or as only FTL ships had ever shown.

******

Captain Nick Mack’s little spacecraft was hurtling in space…only to have Megan overcoming him. He gave the orders to speed up, and for a time, the two ships accelerated together…his smaller ship lost in the fire of Megan’s thrust.

What a beautiful ship, he thought, I hope she fares well.

Then it was time. Megan’s engines cut out, and Mack’s Lightbringer boosted hard to make up the visual difference. Jump was coming up, and he gave the order for everyone to drug down.

A few minutes later, in a drunk doze, he felt more then realized the shift into hyperspace.

Admiral Forrestal was the commander of Wazzu’s FTL “fleet”, if it could be called that. Made of a small number of converted civilian FTL clippers, it wasn’t much of a combat force. There were a few ships that had some combat capability, but most were for other purposes…like charting nearby stars (which had been done before Forrestal took command), running diplomats to nations near those stars, and acting as a mock force that could be used outside Sol.

It was a bluff, Forrestal knew. The insystem ships of Wazzu were individually powerful, but her converted merchantmen wouldn’t be able to handle battle with quite the same power. Still, it was a popular bluff back home.

The captain of Forrestal’s command ship (one of three communications ships, Captain Mack’s being another and the only FTL ship outside Forrestal’s command) requested her presence in the chart room…urgently…and Forrestal was only too glad to comply. Life was slow in interstellar space, and you grabbed what excitement you could.

The chart room door swished open, and an alert Captain Santiago saluted for his crew, launching right into the situation…something Forrestal liked about the man.

“Ma’am, some minutes ago we detected Megan boosting away from Comet Shipyards, unfinished.” The captain looked at his watch. “73 seconds ago, we received a message from Earth. It was West. We are about to play the tape now.”

There was no love lost between Forrestal and West. Forrestal had worked hard for her position, and the Dominion still gave the fleet job to the older West. Now with West’s defection, Forrestal was stuck, her career ended in this mock fleet, this bluff.

The tape was short. It showed a number of men at women in Elegant Solutions yellow coveralls disembarking a Mangalan currier and heading straight into Megan…minutes before the hijack. At the lead was non other then former Admiral West.

“Megen’s gone,” interrupted a tech, “we have data.”

Forrestal’s command ship, actually Captain Santiago’ ship she knew, was a FTL communications ship…a tachyon ship. It didn’t have the fancy land-bound trackers located on Venus or Mars, but by virtue of its communications ability it could offer some information. It was exactly why Forrestal had chosen it as her primary.

“Lets hear it.” Captain Santiago told the tech.

“Yessir.” The replay came back smartly, and the tech continued. “Megan headed outsystem, but not directly towards any nearby star. Flight-path variance should allow them to reach a binary dwarf about 43 lightyears out.” The tech paused. “Sir, I know she was designed for long flights, but she’s untested, and this would take a month. People would starve on the flight.”

The Captain nodded. “Any other alternatives?”

“No sir, that’s the crutch of it it. But then there is this.” The young tech brought up a display. “Up to this point, we see Megan’s massive tachyon signature, but then it is replaced by this.” A less intense graphical representation took over…like an EKG showing a normal heartbeat, then one at less then half strength. “Sir, it looks like one of ours, like a clipper, but a clipper can’t even attempt a jump like that, especially not to such a low-mass star.”

It was a mistery all right. “Anything else?”

“No sir, that’s about all we can do on board. Anything else will have to come from planetside.”

“Alright, pass the information along. Maybe we’ll get a break.”

******

Megan coasted in and docked with Destiny, a secret station in distant non-planer orbit of Sol. Its hatched opened, only to show a very unhappy Admiral Raven.

“West,” he said, “this had better be good.”

------

It’s good, thought Raven some time later, but why am I still not happy with it? But Admiral Raven knew the answer. West had defected, not him. And even though he was doing it to save an 8 year old child, he was still cooperating in a kidnapping, sorta, from the elected government of Wazzu.

“Goddamn you for leaving me with this burden.” He said to West as she departed on one of his swifts. And as he watched the little shuttle go back insystem, practically invisible at such a range, he thought And now she leaves with one of my ships…what a woman.

Lightbringer came out of hyperspace a scant 93 hours later, and the crew rose grogally from their induced sleep.

Groans passed throughout the ship, jumps were never fun. They were dangerous.

There were stories of ships dissappearing and of awake spacers loosing their minds. Few would experiance this.

But even with lag, everyone felt the passage of time. Joints grew sore when unused for hours or days on end, bodies dehydrated, dead skin and hair accumulated, and people got a little thinner.

And this was only the first in a series of jumps they would have to make before they could relax.

One thing was sure, they would all need showers by the end.

Lightbringer raced in towards the neutron star, a point of mass who's lack of luminosity classified it as dark matter. Few knew of its existance.

In the small respite moving insystem towards gravity assist high-c-frac vector change and the trip back out, the crew arose, ate a hearty meal, and took care of the ships every day buisness with energy reminicent of zombies.

The next jump was, thankfully, relatively short...and as the ship hurdled insystem, a tech found something interesting in his scans.

"Sir, come take a look at this."

Lightbringer was stripped down and converted into fuel tanks. She didn't have any probes, super-senors, or similar...just her drive, crew compartment, communications gear, and a lot of extra fuel for the long flight.

Captain Mack floated over, lack of artificial gravity saved fuel, and took a suprised look at what his man had found.

Spacecraft, stations, dead, all dead. Old looking stuff by the...look of it. And there, a planet that would be green but for its cloud cover, hovering close to it's dim star. This was a find that couldn't be passed up.

"Comm, get me Olympus Corsica, We've a message for Admiral West...."


EDIT: OOC: Open RP fourthcomming. I hope to start it tomorrow, but it wont really get exciting until next weekend. :) It'll be...different.

Even at a fair amount of the speed of light, the speed gained through two jumps now, it took quite a bit of time to get through the system...the stars of the double system had an orbital period of about 700 years around each other, making the system quite large. There was plenty of time to gain information, even by a ship of limited means under extreme time dialation.

The next two jumps were uneventful...one to Brenards Star where the only outpost was a small Mindset farming community, and then into the Valinon dominated Centauri system. But instead of speading through Centauri, the Lightbringer dumped velocity.

"Attention Valinon control, this is the WStS Lightbringer sending ID backet now,." it identified itself through the proper means, "Request vector for Hermes port for refueling and restocking." The message repeated itself (as was standard) until a reply came back.

"So, what do you need to lift from me this time Admiral?" Admiral Raven was somewhat concerned, and not at all suprised that Admiral West was back to see him.

"Now Raven, surely I haven't made that impression, have I?" West teased.

Raven started counting off names of ships West had 'aquired' from Wazzu, starting with a small shuttle he had lost not too long ago. West was quick to interupt.

"Oh common, you know I haven't...appropraited anything without merit."

Admiral Raven sighed. "The question remains, what do you need now."

"A tachyon bomb." West said non-chaliently.

Raven scoffed. "We haven't even used one of those, no one knows that capibility even exists. If you use one of those, your going to start off a double arms race, and the government is going to come looking to see where it missed it."

"No it won't," West replied, "not in your office."

That much was true. But it didn't mean Raven had to like it. Paranoia was a well hidden and well tended emotion among Wazzu political, corporate, and military leaders all. Starting an arms race would put other nations on the development track of two very important technologies.

******

It took some haggling, but in the end, West won out. She seemed to have a habit of doing that...probably why she had been an Admiral in the more public fleet, and why Raven still was an Admiral wrapped in secrecy.

"Are you sure it's cinched?" one of the Executive Council asked the Chairman.

"Wang's dialoge confirms it, ICEL has no intentions to really change." the Chairman responded.

"Then what do we do?"

"We take the other protectorates up on their offer."

"And become an empire?!"

"Maybe," the Chairman was calm, "eventually," he left the possibility open, "but a lot needs to be set up before that becomes a choice. You and I will be long dead."

"And the boy?"

"God only knows."