NationStates Jolt Archive

In the smooth, silk-blue waters just off the coast of Valient, a lone, steel hulk floated silently, aimlessly, ponderously, seemingly without a care in the world.

A contrast to the figure standing on the prow of the ship, the Valient Royal Navy Stealth Carrier Vidion. The man looked out towards the landmarks of Valient. Even from his position, he could still see the DEO twin towers, Alexandria International airport and of course, the Harrison Naval Base.

The man sighed. His was a task unenviable, but, he mused, life was a constant test: you move from one problem to the other, and so on.

But what happens when you get the answer wrong? What then?

He smirked to himself, and pulled out a cigarette from his breast pocket, blue and pockmarked with tiny holes made by various medals and accolades. He put it to his mouth and fumbled around for a lighter, when he was interrupted by a voice.

"Admiral D'rtang, we are ready."

The man turned, and nodded. The lieutenant saluted, turned on his heel and left.

With a look back out towards Valient, the man sighed and put his cigarette back into his pocket, and went back into the ship, ducking low to avoid the overhang.

A test... nothing more, right?


OOC: This is the second incarnate of this thread. The first, http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=346089&page=1&pp=15, didn't pan out for... reasons.

In Elseworlds, leaders, nations and NS as a whole are taken from their usual settings and put into familiar - yet strange - times and places. Some that have existed, and others that can't, couldn't or shouldn't.

Like this one: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=295352

“Attention all hands on deck - Admiral on the bridge.”

With precision honed by hours of practice, all of the crewmembers jumped to their feet and saluted smartly. With a genteel wave of his hand, Joseph D’rtang waved them back to whatever they were doing before.

D’rtang was not a man who liked such formality. Such things were for old stuffed shirts who needed things like salutes to make them feel important. But, D’rtang supposed, it was all part of the history, and he took them with a grain of salt.

History… the Valient Royal Navy had that. D’rtang was a part of that. At 48, he was the youngest standing Admiral in the over 200 year history of the institution. With that authority came prestige and a bit of latitude within the Navy.

At least, enough to not be questioned when he requested the use of the Vidion, the flagship of the VRN. Enough to not be questioned when he personally oversaw the transfer of the best and brightest minds in the Navy to the Stealth Carrier.

And loyal. They were loyal. After all, most of them had served with him on the various tours he had undertaken, and the rest he had… helped… their career move in the right ways.

Loyalty. If there was one thing he demanded, it was loyalty. He was never disappointed.

“Lieutenant Kendell, please take us forward at half-speed, mark 17 by 45”

“Aye, sir,” said the lithe, young woman operating at navigations.

As the ship moved slowly but surely out of Valient’s territorial waters, another figure approached the Admiral, nearly tall enough to overshadow D’rtang’s own 6 feet 4 stature.

“Admiral, it is an honour to have you on board, but would you mind letting me give the orders around here?” said the man with the three stars shining on his left breast pocket, outmatched by D’rtang’s four.

“Absolutely Captain, once we get to our destination that is.”

If the Captain felt any displeasure at this, he did not show it. D’rtang did not expect anything less. James Langdon was a man that he could trust. After all, they did serve together for over a decade on the Kingston and Langdon was not one to go against an order.

“Understood sir, but could you tell me what our destination is?”

D’rtang looked around. It was not that he was paranoid, but it was more prudent to be sure.

“Yes Captain, but in your ready room.”

“Yes sir. Commander Yolange, you have the conn.”

A beautiful woman in her thirties nodded assent, and walked to the front of the bridge area, a small black shadow on the forward viewscreen currently showing nothing but the ocean and the odd white cloud.

*****

D’rtang and Langdon entered the ready room, lights automatically coming on at the onset of motion. D’rtang went to the bar at the side of the room, which was filled with nautical memorabilia, and poured himself a stiff drink of Valient Ale.

“Would you like a drink, Captain?”

“No thanks, sir. What I would like are some answers… Where is this ship heading.”

“To the Fallujian Islands, James. Please, no need for our titles amongst friends.”

“Ok, Joseph, but… why the Fallujians? That’s far outside our usual shipping lanes.”

D’rtang took a drink of his ale. He smiled, and lifted the glass up to the light: little beads of evaporated water trickled down the sides and onto the Admirals fingertips.

“Perhaps I should ask you a question first, James. Tell me, what do you know about the Project Eternal Peace?”

“Project Eternal Peace? I’ve never heard about it.”

“No wonder… perhaps you’ve heard of the Omega Pulse…”

"...Omega Pulse? No, haven't heard about either."

In a dimly-lit office all the way across from Harrison Bay, two men sat slumped in chairs, facing each other set in confusion and horror.

In the hallway beyond the closed door, figures could be seen running up and down the hall, shouting the odd order from here and there.

"The Omega Pulse... oh, wait, you weren't here when the project officially wrapped up. GODDAMMIT!"

The man balled his right hand and looked around, as if for something to break, or throw across the small room.

"Wait, what's happening, Greg. Tell me!"

The man looked across at his partner, face now a look of concern and bewilderment.

"Look, Harka, this... Omega Pulse... is so... classified, only 10 people know of its existence. If I told you, both of us could be in very serious trouble..."

"I just want to know what the hell is going on around here. What is with everyone scrambling around with their heads cut off today?"

The man leaned in, setting the example for his colleague to follow.

"Let's just put it this way: if the Americans had the Omega Pulse instead of The Bomb at Hiroshima... there would have been no survivors."

"In the city?"

"In the country, and the schematics for the Omega Pulse are missing."

Harka’s face fell into an ashen grey. Outside, men continued to hurry along, shouting again from here and there."

The next day, as the sun broke over the Novopian Mountain range on the outskirts of Alexandria, weary, bedraggled people dragged themselves out of their slumber, steeling themselves for another day, another battle for yet another dollar.

The president of Valient was no different, though he did allow himself the luxury of lolling about in bed for a couple minutes after the alarm had rang.

Lazing about in bed was one of the few luxuries Alexander Valient allowed himself lately. After all, the business of running the country did not end at the stroke of midnight, only to start again at 6 a.m. No, he had to be a leader 'round the clock, all day, everyday.

"Sigh..."

With his right hand, Valient picked up the free pillow next to him and held it to his bare chest. He could still smell his wife's shampoo on it.

Herbal Essence. It was the most feminine smell he had ever encountered. He was glad Christina loved it.

"Mr. President, are you just going to lie in bed until that rebellion reaches out and smacks you in the face?"

Valient smiled at his beautiful wife, resplendent in her teal summer dress that hugged her hips and kissed her figure.

"Madame First Lady, I have it on good word that the Sicythirus rebellion has been successfully quashed. Don't I deserve a reward?"

"Yes..."

Christina moved from her spot in the doorway and leaned over onto the bed, With a gentle touch, she drew Valient's face forward for a kiss, deep and one that tasted mildly of toothpaste.

"...but you still have to get up."

With that, the first lady moved back and walked out the door. However, her voice came back as she moved towards the dining room.

"Hampton made us some eggs and pancakes. Hurry, you have that meeting with Troy at 9 o'clock."

Valient smiled, and swung his legs around to the side of the bed. With a soft grunt, he stood up and turned on the laptop computer at the side table. As it was booting up, he pulled on a velvet dress shirt.

It was smooth, and made him feel a little classier.

"You have one new message."

Valient groaned inwardly. He did not know why the president of any country would need anything that promised "Another 4 inches..."

But it was not Spam at all. It was a message marked urgent from Lee Natarin, Director of the Department of External Operations.



From: Lee Natarin
Subject: Project Eternal Peace


Project Eternal Peace is Condition Zero.

Repeat, Condition Zero.



Valient's face tightened. Suddenly the shirt had seemingly cut off all air to his throat.

But he knew it wasn't that...

"Honey, can you get someone to call Troy? I'm going to have to get him to meet me directly at the Towers."

Condition Zero: Item missing and presumed stolen.

Condition Zero. Not exactly a good way to start the day.

"Thanks. Keep the change."

The taxi-driver nodded and waved a simple goodbye as Troy Clemington climbed out of the white and blue Alexandria Taxi cab. As he drove away, the driver pondered why the Vice-President of Valient took a cab - his cab - to work,

and why did the vice-president look so... scared?

Perhaps if Clemington knew what his driver was thinking, perhaps he would have hailed the cab down, and offer some platitude, some explanation that would assuage his concerns.

Of course, Clemington was in no mood to offer any platitudes.

But he did want someone to assuage his concerns.

Condition Zero. Not exactly a good way to start the day.

Clemington looked up at the sheer rise of Tower A of the DEO Twin Towers. Both towers were identical in nearly every way, standing at a lofty 75 floors high.

But he wasn't going up at any rate. He was going down...

******

The vice-president was the last to arrive at the conference room of the DSWA in the sub-basement 15 of Tower A. He caught the eye of Valient, and nodded. Seated at the huge, round table were six other men other than he and the president.

At the front of the room was a large, pull down display, which had a map of the continental North America on it. Beside it stood two men, who looked nervous but ready, as if with a purpose.

"Good morning, gentleman I am Dr. Gregory Millard, Deputy Director at the Defense Special Weapons Agency in the Department of External Operations. With me is my assistant, Harka Kandour. I appreciate the opportunity to appear before you today to discuss the current crisis that is facing us - the disappearance and presumed theft to the schematics of Project Eternal Peace.

For those who do not know of the project, I have been instructed to explain what exactly is Eternal Peace, or the Omega Pulse."

Clemington leaned forward in his chair, which was starting to make his back a little sore. It had been years since there had been any mention, even in the upper echelon of the defense department, of the project.

"Now, the most common perception of a nuclear detonation is that represented by a mushroom cloud -- a burst at or near the surface of the earth. Such a burst results in a variety of weapons effects, most prominently blast and thermal, whose extent can reach up to several miles from ground zero, depending on yield. The only exception is radioactive fallout from a surface burst, which at low levels can traverse the entire globe.

However, a high altitude burst, detonated at heights ranging from 50 to several hundreds of kilometers above the earth's surface, is also capable of generating a wide variety of effects and disturbed environments, the most far-reaching being EMP. Depending primarily on the burst height and to a lesser extent on yield, a high altitude burst can bathe a continental size region in EMP. Such a detonation causes particular concern because of the sensitivity of modern electronics to strong electromagnetic fields.

For example, if a high-yield weapon were to be detonated 400 kilometers (250 miles) above the United States, nearly the entire contiguous 48 states would be within the line-of-sight."

As if to illustrate the point, a map of the US appeared on the screen.

"The frequency range of the pulse is enormously wide -- from below one hertz to one gigahertz. Peak electric fields can reach tens of thousands of volts per meter. All types of modern electronics are potentially at risk, from Boston to Los Angeles; from Chicago to New Orleans."

On the screen, a wide swath of red cut across the map.

A man who seemed to be very anxious spoke up from his seat next to Clemington.

"Hurry up and get to the Omega Pulse!"

Millard nodded, and continued without hesitation.

"My apology to High-Minister Garret. At any rate, it is important to discuss the EMP, as the Omega Pulse is... a type of pulse wave.

In essence, the pulse is designed to... use altered electromagnetic fields that are designed to not target electronics, but instead the synapse of the spinal cortex in humans.

By targeting the synapse, the Omega Pulse literally fries the nervous system of the human target..."

"Which we all know contravenes the UN treaty on Weapons of Mass Destruction," said Valient, standing up to address the members of the conference. Clemington looked around, and recognized other high ranking officials, including Generals from the Royal Guard and the Royal Air Force.

"True," added Kandour, who until now had remained silent. "That is why the DSWA discontinued work on the Pulse. All that did remain why a half-built satellite and the schematics..."

"Which are now missing," Clemington said. As all eyes turned to look at him, the vice-president continued. "How long exactly have these plans been missing?"

"Uncertain," said Millard. "They were hald in a secure position in the vaults on Sub-basement 30. The only ones with access to that room are in this room right now."

"Not everyone," said a man dressed in full army formal wear. "What about D'rtang?"

"Now, now Harrovich," said Valient. "D'rtang is on an extended mission on the Vidion. I can personally vouch for him."

"Well," said the General, "then we're at square one: someone is out there with the key to the most powerful weapon of the world, and we are absolutely powerless to stop him."

Inside sub-basement 15 of Tower A, 10 men stared at each other, for the first time in the meeting, at a loss for words.

Captain James Langdon looked out the forward viewscreen and wondered at the majesty of the Fallujian Island Chain. A string of seven islands, the largest being the size of Texas, and the smallest merely the size of Vancouver Island off of the coast of Western Canada.

However, the Vidion was heading for neither island. Rather, the carrier was headed for the fourth island, simply known as Fallujian-4.

Only one thing bothered the Captain: the Fallujian's were not in Valient water.

They were in Canuckiston territory.

Langdon walked over to D'rtang, who was studying some charts that Langdon did not recognize. They looked vaguely like schematics for some sort of... machine.

"Excuse me, Admiral, but we are getting closer to the Fallujians. We will arrive within 30 minutes."

"Good, good, Captain. Now, tell me, what do you see when you look at these?"

D'rtang lifted up the sheets of schematics and handed them to Langdon. Langdon looked them over, trying hard to look like he knew what he was looking for, or at.

"I don't know, sir. Engineering was never a strong point, but, if I am correct, these are the plans for your Omega Pulse?"

D'rtang took the sheets back and studied them himself again.

"No, Captain, these are not just schematics to the Omega Pulse. These," he said, shaking the papers to emphasize his point, "are the key to the future of Valient. These are the schematics, the framework, the PLANS to ensuring the peace and stability of the Commonwealth-Dominion for your children, my children, and our children's children."

Langdon nodded briefly.

"I... understand sir."

D'rtang looked at Langdon for a moment, studying him as if he too was just a part of the schematics.

Then he smiled, and clapped the Captain on the back.

"No worries. I'm sure everyone will understand soon enough. Now, if you excuse me, I must get back to my work. Let me know when we are within 10 minutes of Island-4"

Langdon nodded, and left the Admiral to his work.

He went back to the view screen, and looked out again at the Island Chain of Fallujia

He did mean to ask D'rtang one question,

What if Canuckiston found out about the Vidion or the Omega Pulse? What happened if they were all discovered?

But he supposed that could wait. After all, everyone would soon understand...

Right?

Alexander Valient swore silently to himself as the rest of the taskforce exited the room, no closer to finding out the fate of the Omega Pulse plans, and thusly, no closer to knowing what the next step of action should be.

Valient cursed again, this time more loudly, not caring who heard him.

"Alexander, this isn't your fault."

Turning around, Valient found that his vice-president, Troy Clemington, was the only one remaining in the room other than him.

With a nod, Clemington took a seat directly across him, setting his black attaché case aside on the dark, marble table.

"Alexander, I know that you want to blame yourself for what is happening, but you... for god's sakes, don't do this to yourself."

Valient took a hand and rubbed at the side of his face. It was itchy; a thin cover of hair had grown back from where he shaved.

"Do what?"

"Worry."

"Worry? Worrying is what a president must do, Troy. A president worries that he will screw up his speech on national television. A president worries the stock market will crash, taking the economy down to whatever depths of hell it sees fit.

A president worries that some megalomaniac gets the hands on a superweapon and take the world hostage. A president worries. That is ALL a president does."

Clemington looked across at Valient, and nodded.

"I'm only 35, Troy. In political terms, I should still be wetting my bed, and... and now this comes up? Of course I worry..."

Though he was nearly 20 years his elder, Clemington felt nothing but awe. It was a rare politician who was able to reveal his emotions so well.

Clemington tried to interject, but Valient raised his hand to stop him. He wasn't finished quite yet.

"And this could not have come at a worse time for this nation, Troy. Our military is still mopping up that business in Sicythirus, and we don't have enough ships in case we have to deal with the pulse."

Clemington could only nod at the logic behind that.

"So what do we do then, Alex?"

Valient looked across the marble table at his vice-president.

"What else. We ask for help."


*****

TO: All Heads of State in the AHA region
From: Alexander Valient, President, Commonwealth-Dominion of Valient

Dear Presidents, leaders, monarchs, etc.

I request your presence in Valient in three days time for a conference concerning a major crisis that looms over all of our heads - the Omega Pulse.

No, I understand that none of you know what this is, but please read through the information that I am sending you, and reply in due time that you will in attendance.

Thank you, and god speed.
Alexander Valient

"What the hell is this freakin' StarBurst?!"

"Omega Pulse, sir...some sort of doomsday device..."

"And...what's the matter once again?"

"Stolen, sir. Valient is calling an emergency summit of all world leaders who give a damn about their future--"

"Watch your mouth, Jeffers..."

"Sorry sir..."

"Now I should be worried about this StarPulse thing right?"

"Yes sir."

Marshall paced the office looking downward. Finally he held the golf putter in hand as he putted the ball into the coffee cup. He looked up, his face strangely calm.

"Fuck 'em. It's their problem, not mine. I've got enough to deal with, with all the damn vampires and street wars going on. And those goddamn librarians keep pestering me for the frickin' money, when I don't give a flying rat's ass about them!"

tag

hmmm. We finally get to pull the fleet out of mothballs and use them. excellent. <tag>

Tag.....

The winds blew gently outside of the Canuckiston Corvette Therrion, the namesake of one of the most famous battleships in Canuckiston history.

With a smile, Captain Tanya Jerriman looked out off of the prow of the ship, looking forward towards the Fallujian Islands, the last stop on their routine patrol of the waters of Canuckiston.

As one of only a handful of female commanders of her own ship in the Navy, Jerriman knew that she was in an exceptional position to make her own place in history.

If that meant that she had to settle for routine patrols once in a while, so be it.

After all, no true leader demands that wars happen on their watch. Only megalomaniacs, pretenders and fools did so.

And Jerriman was no fool.

"Captain?"

Jerriman turned around to the voice of her navigator, Lt. Karl Weinhardt.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"There appears to be... a malfunction with our sensors, both long and short range."

"How so?" Jerriman hurried to Weinhardt's side and looked down. Everything looked ok: nothing out of the ordinary when it came to the radar depiction of the Fallujian."

"Well... according to Jones up top, there is some sort of vessel berthed at Number-4. Can't say for sure who it is."

"Well, it would be hardly prudent to go in with gun's blazing. Could be a pleasure craft stranded, or something like that. Let's just go see who it is, and then head home. I think we all deserve that, don't you Lieutenant?"

Weinhardt smiled. "Yes SIR!"

With absolutely no worries about the steel figure in the distance, the Therrion pressed forward.

OOC: Hope you don't mind that I came into this, Valient...if you would like me to be in this respond...maybe find her or something I don't know. You are the creative one.

IC: Isabella Rellano, daughter to Captain Rellano of Rising Star, floated on a floating tube. It seemed like days, but she knew it was only hours. She was past the denial, past the anger, and past the tears. She let her mind take nothing in and let nothing out. She filled it with gray, no black and no white within.

The current of the water, crept with the beating of her heart. Whoosh...whoosh...whoosh. Her intake of the salty air corresponded with the wind's breeze. All she saw was blue for miles and miles. The distant horizon blended with the water's surface.

Finally came sleep, but who knows what she would wake up to.

Isabella drifted with the current. It was her guide and she was willing to follow it. She only wore a cream color slip, her gown was lost with everything else. It suck to her skin and cooled her under the heat of the sun, but it left barely anything to imagination, her long slim legs, her tone stomach, her supple breasts. Her face was ash white, and her dark ringlets stuck to her face and neck. Her makeup had all washed away, although, none was needed. She had been called many times an European Queen and no beauty could match. Now, she just looked like a sick queen. Her arms flung over the edges and her fingertips sliced through the water, leaving a trail behind. She could have appeared dead, except for the rise and fall of her chest.

She slept away her worries, slept away her fears, and slept away her loss.

They were in Canuckiston territory.


OOC:
How imaginitive :p :p :p

*tag for reading*

OOC: Thank's. Took me awhile to figure out the name ;)

IC:

James Langdon was a man born to spend out his days on the high seas. It was the salt air that both chilled and warmed his lungs. It was the gentle rolls of the oceans that lulled him off to sleep faster than any lullaby.

Still, when the Captain of the Vidion made landfall on Fallujian-4, he supposed that it was good once in awhile to get back on solid earth, or in the case of Fallujian-4, solid magma, broiled over from some long ago undersea volcano that spawned it and its six siblings.

When he stood at the edges of the island, Langdon could see straight to Fallujian-3 and 5. Good, he supposed. Easy enough to swim across if need be.

With a shake of his head, the Captain brought himself back to reality. He stared out of the steel-mesh Plexiglas window, not from within the carrier, but within a facility he never knew existed. Not even in the legends circulated throughout the services. Outside in the hallways that were painted a garish green, men lumbered past with boxes and boxes of supplies offloaded from the Vidion

With a wry smile, Langdon turned to the older man sitting beside him in the massive control centre. Around them people buzzed around with activities, lights flashed and a huge sectioned screen with latitudinal and longitudinal lines intersecting flashed even brighter.

"Ok, Admiral, we're here. We're jacked in and good to go. Now, are you finally going to tell me what we are doing here... and where the hell are we?"

Joseph D'rtang looked over at Langdon, and then all around. It seemed that everyone had their own mission, their own purpose to be somewhere else, and thusly, noone even batted an eye at the two men.

"Alright, James. I suppose now that we are all here and getting settled in, it will be a fine time for a story.

When I showed you the schematics for the Omega Pulse, and I said that they would be the plans for ensuring the peace and stability of the Commonwealth-Dominion did you believe me?"

Before Langdon could respond, D'rtang continued.

"Nearly 10 years ago, all agencies - militaries and police - of the Commonwealth-Dominion, along with government administration put forward the motions of Project Eternal Peace. The plan was simple. Devise a weapon that was proactive in stopping attacks on Valient of any sort. A... sort of weapon that had the power to convince nations that it would be in their best interests to stay in the good books of Valient."

Langdon nodded. Wars to often were started because nations wanted some more land, or resources, both of which Valient had in abundance.

"So scientists and engineers, pooled together from the Navy, Military and Airforce, as well as the DEO and the VNP, got down to creating the Biggest 'big stick' they could.

Some were decent, like a 25,000 megaton bomb. Unfortunately, that thing didn't quite go over well in computer sims.

Others were dumb. There was one scientist who devised an underwater tank... A TANK? That was... more than dumb. That was... pathetic."

Langdon interrupted D'rtang’s angry rant. "And then the Omega Pulse came along..."

"Yes. YES... it did. I believe his name was... oh, I can't remember who the scientist was, but he was from our team. The Navy that is. Came up with the idea for the Omega Pulse, and even drew up the original schematics. Where we are right now was going to be the test site of the pulse, much like Bikini Atoll was for the Atomic age.

Alas, the pulse was shelved after the UN passed some treaty on Weapons of Mass Destruction. Apparently, after submitting our designs, the pulse was ruled to fall into the category of a WMD. It would have been humourous if it hadn't been real.

I was the only one to try and hold onto the project. I mean, who was the UN to demand us to scrap a defensive project. Alas, it was all for naught.

Until now. Now, I finally finish the job we started 10 years ago. Finally, this all will come to fruitation."

Langdon nodded, trying to make sense of all of what D'rtang told him.

"So... so how does the Pulse work?"

"Well, it is simply a..."

"Captain Langdon to Medical Bay One. Captain Langdon to Medical Bay One."

Langdon looked at D'rtang, who nodded.

"Go, we can finish this later.”

Shortly after the Captain had exited the control centre, a private D’rtang did not recognize approached and saluted.

“Sir, there is a Canuckiston vessel approaching from the west.”

D’rtang smiled. “Really? Well then, I suppose we should prepare a proper reception…”

“Warm up Satellite System Telemetry, everyone. Looks like we have our first test subject.”

******

Langdon entered the room, where most of the doctors were huddled around a bed in the middle of the concrete room. When he was noticed, the huddle smoothly moved apart, allowing him to see who was lying on the bed.

It was a beautiful young woman, who wore nothing but a slip that left nothing to the imagination. Her ample chest rose up and down in time with the ventilator that she was hooked up to.

Langdon, studied the woman for a moment longer, and then shook his head

“Who found her, and where?”

“Some of the men out on patrol of the island found her on the shore of one of the rivers. She had no ID, and nothing else with her when they found her. They brought her here, and we have her under sedation for the time being.”

Langdon shook his head again. “Strange…”

“What is it, Captain? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No… but I think I’m looking at the daughter of one…

Her name is Isabella Rellano, and her father is… was Captain Nathan Rellano of the Corvette, Rising Star"

"Wait," said an orderly who appeared suddenly by the side of the bed. " Wasn't that the ship that went down a couple of months back in the Sicythirus?"

Langdon nodded.

"Yes... it is. The question is… what is Rellano's daughter doing here on this island?”

Isabella heard muffled voices and did they just say my name. It felt as if her head weighed 100 pounds. She pried open her eyes and saw several men bent over looking at her. A warm flush filled her body. She slowly brought her hand up to her head, just wear a queen would wear a crown, at the coronal suture of her skull and let out a small yelp and closed her eyes. Once she opened them again she looked at her hand, red blood and a small amount of dried brown blood caked her hand. "Where am I? Where is my father? This doesn't look familar." A small cry let out, "I am so confused." She let a sigh come out and to release any stress she felt.

OOC: ooh, need me again? could be fun.


IC: High above the earth, the Orbital battle station ZUES, was scanning the shipping lanes, most seemed to check out.... aside from some unusual valient navy activity. As per standard proceeduce, a type 11 Sea Wraith SSN was dispatched to observe the Valient Naval movenment.

waiting on Valient...and you thought women made you wait...I think I have been waiting longer than you bud...