NationStates Jolt Archive

One of the Alliance's top military leaders sat amongst the audience at the Konoha speeches. His hair was buzzed, military style, he wore a long black leather jacket, a V-neck t-shirt, and long heavy jeans. His face was rough, scared from many battles from formerly serving the Huntarian Empire's Army as one of their top military minds. This was Major General Verneal (http://i11.photobucket.com/albums/a172/Huntaer/marv.jpg?t=1169525093), commanding officer of the Alliance's Army and soon to be the GFFA's Ground Forces Commander. He knew that if these people could easily defeat the Empire as they did over Konoha, he'd have to make contact with him. Supreme Councilor Jorrus thought it was a good idea and sent him and Councilor Melisha to make Contact. Unfortunately, these two don't get along so well... Melisha decided to make Verneal to go to the ceremony while she wandered around the streets of Konoha.


Colonel Keith Allaire waited for the sun to slip below the horizon. When at last it did, his voice, without aid of microphone but nonetheless heard by all, broke the long silence.

"It is my honor to serve as Loremaster for the Evil Woody Thoughts Navy and I am especially honored to guide the Evil Woody Thoughts military, and government officials, in the ritual we perform this day. Ferocious bravery is the hallmark of all Woodian warriors, but at times there are those who transcend even that. These warriors deserve a special place in the history of Evil Woody Thoughts."

"Seyla," whispered a couple of the Woodian military officers. It was echoed, of all people, by the five-year-old John Masaki, and then some others in the Woodian delegation, spoken a bit louder. Then the multitude of Woodian personnel present, fifteen thousand or so strong, joined in, the chorus of "Seyla!" quickly becoming deep and strong.

"Such a warrior was Admiral Michael K. Riordan."

The air felt silent. Colonel Allaire bowed his head in a moment of silence, not announcing it. But the Woodians knew. Including the more than billion of them watching from home, or wherever they were.

Finally, Colonel Allaire began ceremoniously naming the exploits of Admiral Riordan, who had graduated from academy only fifteen years ago, starting with his Trial of Position. However, the items in his codex of most interest had occurred within the last year.

"On 19 May of the year previous, a meeting of the Naval Chiefs of Staff was convened to discuss the possible promotion of Rear Admiral Chris Bielski, who would reveal himself to be Darth Ebolus shortly thereafter. Both Rear Admiral Bielski and Admiral Riordan were present at this meeting. From security recordings that the Dark Lord Ebolus overlooked, we know that Admiral Riordan voted against promoting Rear Admiral Bielski, which would have given him more access to sensitive officials, whom he then would purge."

"The Dark Lord proceeded to Force-electrocute those who had voted against promoting him, and purge the memories of those who had voted in favor, so they would not recall that atrocity. Miraculously, Admiral Riordan survived, though the Dark Side had also removed his sovereignty over mind. However, the Dark Lord considered Admiral Riordan disgraced and thus did not give him any assignment. In this way, he is one of the few high-ranking military officials who made it through the civil war without committing atrocities of some sort. When at last the Dark Lord was killed, his mind was cut off from everything, as the Dark Lord had enslaved Admiral Riordan's mind to him, and he became incapacitated. The Hokage Master Tsunade reconstructed his mental capacity, and shortly thereafter, along with Master Jacob Whitfield, found a residual mindlink between Admirals Riordan and Makaryk, which the two of them were able to cut. Following the war, Admiral Riordan served with great distinction, providing vast assistance in reconstructing and retraining a navy purged of personnel by the civil war."

"It is the effect of his diligent work off the battlefield that was displayed on the battlefield in Konoha orbit recently, in the form of a devastatingly efficient coordination witnessed by few militaries in history." The Colonel gave an ever-so-subtle nod in the general direction of Admiral Makaryk.

"When confronted with the fleet of the Dark Lady Nightshade, Admiral Riordan ordered the reactor output of the entire EWS Battlestar to be fired through a single particle projector cannon battery. His crew warned him about excessive heat, but Admiral Riordan proceeded with the order anyway. The resulting output slagged the weapon...but it also slagged a third-generation Imperial Star Destroyer with a single shot."

By this point in the ceremony, the sky was completely dark. Keith used the Force to flip the switches for the massive holoprojectors he had ordered set up for just this moment...and they projected a 10:1 scale hologram of the EWT Battlestar, and its position relative to the SSD Obliterator, and position relative to surrounding fleet...some two thousand meters in the sky. The length of the Obliterator's projected image, at about 1760 meters, covered almost as much distance as there was between ground and hologram, constructed from the battle recordings of the Coredian fleet.

With another mental gesture, Keith set the hologram into motion and narrated it. Deep lances of purple issued forth from the Obliterator in the projection, from some unknown weapon that tore asunder typical Star Destroyers in a single shot, not unlike Admiral Riordan's creative use of PPCs as ortillery, at various Coredian ships, some within the hologram, some not.

Of course, nearly everyone looked up. Including the news cameras.

"At his point, after witnessing the ruinous effects of the Obliterator's weapons, Admiral Riordan ordered the Battlestar's crews to fire its entire reactor thoroughput at the unknown weapons batteries," Colonel Allaire continued, expecting everyone to be listening, yet not looking as the hologram in the sky tended to grab the eyes' attention. "Along with Coredian Artillery Star Destroyers commanded by Admiral Pellaeon, Admiral Riordan succeeded in disabling several of the weapons in such a manner." The hologram continued, with an image of the Battlestar firing a single heavy PPC bolt every forty seconds or so, the bolt powerful enough to punch through even the shields of a Super Star Destroyer, resulting in several shots before the Obliterator's main guns finally recharged. From some point unseen, blue mini-superlasers also targeted additional emplacements in the hologram.

"At this point, Admiral Riordan attracted the attention of the enemy commander. The Battlestar's shield absorbed one hit from the remaining unknown weapons, diverting firepower that otherwise would have destroyed outright some other ship." The holographic re-enactment continued, with another salvo from the Obliterator, most of its weapons directed at the same spots from whence the blue mini-superlasers had came. "The Coredian Artillery Star Destroyers that had fired upon the Super Star Destoyer were all destroyed by this weapons salvo, but the Battlestar's shield held and recharged for the enemy's next round." Colonel Allaire stopped, letting the hologram play out in real-time rather than getting ahead of it. This time, instead of firing every forty seconds, the Battlestar fired every ninety, resulting in the destruction of two more of the unknown weapons batteries before the Obliterator fired again. Moreover, the visible lights on the Battlestar dimmed to nothing on the hologram, as everything not related to combat shut down. To those well versed in naval tactics, it was obvious that Admiral Riordan knew at this point he would not survive the fight, and wanted to shield the Coredians as much as possible by absorbing as much firepower as he could...and diverted as much reactor power as he could get away with to regenerating the shield. Normal turbolasers also peppered the Battlestar, but it was clear the ship was dumping so much power into its front shield that it regenerated faster than the turbolasers could wear it down...a testament to the standards that Evil Woody Thoughts held its engineers, designers, and shipwrights to.

The Obliterator's four surviving batteries of doom facing the Battlestar fired. This part of the re-enactment required no narration from the Colonel.

One of said hypercannons, fortunately missed entirely, while another grazed the ship's dorsal shields, causing them to evaporate into oblivion, but missed the ship itself. The other two, however, caused problems...

They both hit on the front shields, but not on the same exact spot. The shields flared a deep red as they dissapated one of the shots entirely, while only being able to handle most of the other shot. Nevertheless, about the first four hundred meters of the Immortal Star Destroyer's 2.5 km hull (forty meters and 250 meters in the hologram, respectively) were slagged as if the Battlestar itself had been hit by a giant PPC blast.

"Three more hits the Battlestar absorbed, three hits that would have destroyed other ships outright." The hologram showed a sudden flare from engine exhaust longer than the Battlestar itself, that fried a corvette unfortunate enough to be in its wake. "At this point, Admiral Michael K. Riordan, knowing his life and that of his crew to be forfeit, sacrificed himself and his ship, ordering the dedicated sapper crew onboard to prepare charges and performing a data dump, the recipient of which was Admiral Pellaeon's Chimaera." As the Battlestar lumbered towards the Obliterator with an acceleration unbecoming a ship its size in the hologram (due to the dumping of more than 95% of total reactor output into the engines...after sending this transmission, Admiral Riordan had even ordered life support shut down), Colonel Allaire read his final known words:

Quote:
"Admiral Pellaeon, it is the highest honor for me to have the oppurtunity to decommission the Empire's newest playtoy. Our Star Destroyer is now Solohma, cannon fodder to be sacrificed to the greater good. I am transmitting this vessel's final recordings and battle-roms to you, so that you may analyze them. Seyla."

Verneal muttered with the crowd. Soon the ceremony was over, and everyone began to get up and leave. Verneal found a local Coredian Guard and gave him a message which would be sent to Colonel Allaire to meet General Verneal at a local bar to discuss possible negotiations between the Woodians and the Alliance.


OOC: This is a split off of Konoha. Said events will lead up to the eventual relationship between the Alliance and Evil Woody Thoughts.

One of the Alliance's top military leaders sat amongst the audience at the Konoha speeches. His hair was buzzed, military style, he wore a long black leather jacket, a V-neck t-shirt, and long heavy jeans. His face was rough, scared from many battles from formerly serving the Huntarian Empire's Army as one of their top military minds. This was Major General Verneal (http://i11.photobucket.com/albums/a172/Huntaer/marv.jpg?t=1169525093), commanding officer of the Alliance's Army and soon to be the GFFA's Ground Forces Commander. He knew that if these people could easily defeat the Empire as they did over Konoha, he'd have to make contact with him. Supreme Councilor Jorrus thought it was a good idea and sent him and Councilor Melisha to make Contact. Unfortunately, these two don't get along so well... Melisha decided to make Verneal to go to the ceremony while she wandered around the streets of Konoha.

Verneal muttered with the crowd. Soon the ceremony was over, and everyone began to get up and leave. Verneal found a local Coredian Guard and gave him a message which would be sent to Colonel Allaire to meet General Verneal at a local bar to discuss possible negotiations between the Woodians and the Alliance.

Colonel Allaire had himself been getting to know some Coredian Guard units in the half hour or so after the ceremony, whilst Prime Minister Whitfield conversed with Miyu Riordan, widow of Admiral Riordan, about why a Jedi could possibly give up his main lightsaber, even if temporarily, to strike a medal...in this case, the highest honor possible in Evil Woody Thoughts.

As Colonel Allaire had already been chatting with Coredian soldiers, it was not long before he received the message. His eyebrows raised a bit as he read it. It looked to him like something Prime Minister Whitfield would have to get involved in...eventually. But, as the Prime Minister would've hated to go to a bar, Colonel Allaire could at least go in his stead...

Therefore, the Colonel excused himself to the officers' barracks area, changing out of the bright red ceremonial robes of the Jade Falcon Clan used for the ceremony, instead changing into something a bit more suitable for bars...jeans and a military tee shirt. He didn't want to draw too much attention to himself for such things, and ceremonial robes adorned with decorative feathers, let alone robes only worn once, were hardly suitable for bars and whatnot.

Though Colonel Keith Allaire (http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v115/chair094/?action=view&current=Teh_Colonel.jpg) did not have the scars to match Major General Verneal, that did not mean that he was inexperienced at fighting. Quite the contrary, actually, as his time in military academy was frought with constant honor duels in which he routinely beat his opponents unconscious (in some cases, killing them outright), and even now, there was the occasional challenge to a Trial of Grievance, though by now, he had sufficient reputation such that only the greenest recruits who didn't know any better dare challenge him. Of course, he made sure such recruits didn't stay green for long, as he beat the shit out of them until they learned how to fight.

The difference between Allaire and Vorman: Allaire would clean up his face in the aftermath of a fight. There were occassions that required some degree of respectability, after all, such as, say, the role of Loremaster he had just served, even though he hated the formalities.

After changing out of the Loremaster garb, Keith wasted no time jogging to the bar indicated in the note, barely breaking a sweat in the process. Upon entering the dimly lit bar, he remained mostly quiet, simply ordering a Gammorean Death Drink and quietly asking the bartender if there was a character named Verneal around...

Verneal easily spotted Keith as the Colonel walked into the bar. Verneal was already on his third Gammorean Death Drink when Keith walked into the bar. He quickly gulped the remaining beer down and walked on over (more like semi-stumbled) to Colonel Allaire. He straightened himself up and walked behind Keith, "Colonel Keith Allaire?"

Keith saw Verneal down that third drink before noticing him, and thought to himself, Great, half an hour since the memorial ended and he's *already* drunk. He said nothing, but he gave Verneal a cold, hard gaze, his blue eyes seeming to get brighter as his senses as a Jedi-in-training told him a barfight was on its way.

Not immediately, however; the guy wasn't drunk enough to start one quite yet. However...Keith liked to fight...

He waited a couple seconds to answer, giving him the gaze, before finally answering, "I am he."

Verneal wasn't drunk perse... Well... Maybe he was. It was hard to tell with the General. His scarred, gruff face doesn't give it away, and his eyes always look glazed (mainly from lack of sleep). Verneal needs some time for insanity anyways due to his line of work. Even more so now with Melisha breathing down his back while they're working together. It was a good thing he was in a bar with another military figure... Melisha despises bars.

"Ah good. I recognized you from your speech. As you may have guessed, I'm Verneal, Major General of the Huntarian Alliance."

He took a second look at Keith, and he can tell he likes to fight. God damned arrogant kids.

Keith didn’t need the ability to read minds (not that he could’ve read Verneal’s anyway) to tell that Verneal didn’t really like him...not like he was trying that hard to hide it...

...But that was OK, considering the Colonel, indeed young at age twenty-five, didn't really care much for Verneal either.

"I guessed." He gave a slight bow in deference to Verneal's higher rank...even if Verneal *was* drunk. "Seeing as you already figured out who I am, what is it that you dragged me here for?"

"We've got a common enemy right now. Though we're more familiar with them, especially myself and my commanding officer. The Huntarian Alliance has been fighting the Huntarian Empire and their Kirtir Dark Lords for nearly 4000 years, since before you were even a glimpse in your family blood line. My Commander and I have read your battle reports. One of the best strategies I've seen used on the Empire in a long time. The Alliance is interested in forming... Relationships," Verneal turned his head towards the bartender, "bartender, get another couple o' Gammorean Death Drinks for me and this young man. Keep 'em coming."

Keith wondered how long it would be before Verneal noticed that he was the type to actually sit down to enjoy a single drink, rather than guzzling twenty...

...Nevertheless, he finished the first one and noted the presence of the second (and third, which he didn't know if he'd get to). He waited to drink from the second drink until the urge struck him to sip from it.

But that wasn't the point he was trying to make. And if there was one thing that had been drilled into Keith at military academy, it was this: Know Thine Enemy. Especially strengths, to deprive the enemy of oppurtunity to use them. And weaknesses, obviously, to ruthlessly exploit them.

Keith was...receptive. However, he was also cognizant that he wasn't Teh Mr. Diplomat. But he could drag Teh Diplomat into this later...he had the nagging feeling that for better or worse, Teh Diplomat would be drawn into this anyway.

"Relationships?" His eyebrow raised. "Please elaborate." Though he only had authority to sign off on military deals, he could at least gather information on what else the Alliance might be interested in--it'd make Teh Diplomat's work shorter.

"The Alliance has been looking for allies with advanced technologies for the last few thousand years, since before I signed on. People who have the capability to defeat the Empire even without being totally familiar with their tactics or technological capabilities. You've been the best we've seen since our contact with the Godulans. The Alliance has also been trying to recruit Generals/Admirals from the Empire for a while now too, open themselves from the darkness which surrounds them *hic*. Then I came along with my commanding officer, who was known as Darth Deshoonde at the time. I was working with the Empire for more than 4000 years of my life, the last 50 or so years I've been trying to erase what I've done wrong. If there's anyone in the Alliance that knows them best, it's me. I'm half the reason why we've been fairing in our last few attacks. I know about some of their future plans... I set the general rules and standards for the Empire's Towerless Star Destroyers. The other reasons are because of Aelikes's cousin, Magriel/Deshoonde. According to my reports... Your commanding officer, Whitfield I believe, met my commander's cousin yes? *hic*"

Keith nodded at Verneal's briefing of what had led him to seek him out. Having only consumed a drink and a quarter, he was still nowhere near drunk, with no speech impediment. "So, let me get this straight. For four millenia plus you worked for the Empire. Half a century ago you defected. You have information about their plans that we could probably use to counter said plans." A very short pause, as the Colonel moved to answer his last question. "Regarding Darth Aelikes, hell, Whitfield dueled him until he was transported away in the retreat just a couple of days ago."

Then the magnitude of working for the Empire for four millenia struck Keith. "Damn, and I thought I had a lot to atone for from the month and a half that a Sith robbed me of my mind."

Verneal chuckled at the mention of Aelikes being transported away from battle, "knowing Aelikes as I do, I'd say that whomever the transporter chief was at that time didn't last more than 2 seconds once he got off of this rock and re-emerged into the ship. The Dark Lords nor Councilors (though on a much lesser scale of degree) don't like being pulled away from battle, even if it's a loosing one. Heh, I never did fully understand that part about the Malkir and the Kirtir." Verneal paused for a few moments after Keith's mention of his servitude for the empire and Keith's robbed mind.

"At least you were captured from the sound of it... I willfully participated in the destruction of at least a hundred worlds at best, and over saw countless tortures of innocent civilians... Many in the "name of science." Some, for the Emperor's mere pleasure. Four-thousand years of that shit..."

Verneal gazed out for a few more seconds, "bah, anyways, lets order a few more of these Gammorean Drinks and we get on our way."

"Captured...more like a combination of purged and enslaved, but yeah, that's the general idea," Keith nodded. "I think the duel between Whitfield and Aelikes was a stalemate more than anything else, but I wasn't there either."

Then it dawned on Keith that this man wanted yet more drinks, and he was already getting drunk, hiccupping in his speech and whatnot. A certain degree of professionalism that precluded getting drunk off your ass was expected of Woodian officers...especially those as high up as colonels.

"More drinks? I don't drink *that* much...hell I still have almost two full drinks ahead of me."

"Captured...more like a combination of purged and enslaved, but yeah, that's the general idea," Keith nodded. "I think the duel between Whitfield and Aelikes was a stalemate more than anything else, but I wasn't there either."

"Too true, and fortunately for me, neither was I. I've seen Aelikes fight in his youth before, and it wasn't a pretty sight when one of the younger Kirtir Apprentices or Knights came up to him and challenged him to a dual. Not a very smart idea for most people. He's still fairly young for a huntarian, even at 3500 years of age. He's got a long way to go yet to reach the level his master was at when the Republic collapsed."


Then it dawned on Keith that this man wanted yet more drinks, and he was already getting drunk, hiccupping in his speech and whatnot. A certain degree of professionalism that precluded getting drunk off your ass was expected of Woodian officers...especially those as high up as colonels.

"More drinks? I don't drink *that* much...hell I still have almost two full drinks ahead of me."

Verneal almost laughed at that, "Come on kid, don't be a fuckin' pussy. These drinks will make a man out of you."

Verneal almost laughed at that, "Come on kid, don't be a fuckin' pussy. These drinks will make a man out of you."

"A pussy?" Keith's eyes lit up, becoming a deep, bright blue, almost like they were about to fire twin mini-particle projector bolts. His facial expression reformed into the same glare that he had given Verneal earlier, before he had identified himself. Had Verneal been Woodian, or even familiar with Woodian military custom, that would have been grounds to initiate a Trial of Grievance right there, on the spot. "Some of us have shit to do that requires a minimum degree of sobriety."

Still...he didn't particularly care for throwing the first punch. But he wasn't too happy about Verneal's last comment either...

...Still, Keith knew that if it came to a fight, sobriety would be a big advantage, and he thought about cutting himself off from intoxicating drink for the remainder of the night...

"*Sighs* Kid, don't go messing with officers with more years of experience than you. It's usually considered a," and Verneal held up a pair of fingers (the index and middle), "'bad idea'." Verneal gulped down another two drinks.

Keith's eyebrows raised. "On the other hand, it's usually not a good idea to piss off your first contact with a nation that you seek..." Keith paused for a few seconds... "relationships with."

"Piss off a nation? Honestly kid, you ain't no nation. You're a lowly Colonel. I'm the Major General of the Huntarian Alliance AND the Ground Forces Commander of the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances. You ain't got shit on me..." Verneal gulped down a few more drinks.

Apparently he missed the part where I said first contact with a nation... Keith thought to himself as he watched Verneal downed even more drinks. Yeah, he's drunk...and hell...I'm not even sure he'd know what a Trial of Grievance is...

The Colonel assessed. He outweighs me by looks like about a hundred pounds...all muscle...but he's too bulky; I'd be more dextrous and faster, especially with the Force...and he's drunk...but he does have more experience from the looks of him...

Odds: Even. Well bid and done.

The Colonel stood up, as if with righteous indignation (indignation wasn't too far from the truth; whether or not it was righteous depended on whether or not the observer thought a formal challenge should have been issued first). At any rate, his eyes flashed brighter than they had ever been that night as Keith kicked the Major General's barstool from underneath him...

The General began to fall in the same direction as the stool he was siting on, "what the Fu*hic*king hell...!?" even though he was falling, he managed to swing his feet towards Keith's legs hoping to knock him over...

Usually Jedi weren't *supposed* to initiate barfights...

...But the Force was Keith's ally nonetheless. And a powerful ally it was.

He saw Verneal start to swing his feet, and Force-vaulted into the air, half flipping (and almost hitting the ceiling) to end up standing about ten feet away from Verneal, facing him and standing beside the bar counter. Instead of kicking Keith, Verneal ended up kicking *through* the bar counter, nearly hitting the bartender in the process.

"What the hell?" Now it was the bartender's turn to use profanity. He started to raise a blaster, but Keith shot him the iciest of looks along with a hint to let the duel run its course.

No matter which way it went. "Maybe you should have stayed sober, General."

"Sober my ass young blood..." Verneal needed to tap into his darker self with this one... The alcohol helped a bit... He focused himself onto the now semi-blurry image of the Colonel, and in a blinding furious charge, he swung himself towards Keith in blinding fury.

Blinding fury.

General Verneal's problem was the "blinding" part.

Verneal's attack, while furious, turned out to be boorish enough for the Colonel to not only sidestep him, but to plant his feet in the Force, reach out, grab his arm, and pivot, the object of these motions being to send the drunken General in the general direction of a wall, with several chairs and tables in the way, using the momentum of his own charge against him.

Immediately upon completing the motion, Keith picked up a knocked-over barstool, intending to throw it at wherever the General ended up...

As Keith leaped out of the way, the General slammed into the wall leaving a deep imprint of his body' position as it impacted. Verneal moved around to find a stool flying at him, he blinked for one moment and the stool hit his chest causing him to *Oooff* and stumble backwards. The General shook off the small pain which was inflicted, and began to charge the Colonel. When he was in appropriate range, he lifted his fist behind him ready to punch Keith clear off the floor...

Keith had the same idea, except he stayed put instead of charging. He, too, wanted to punch Verneal right off the floor.

As Verneal charged, when the time was right, Keith sprang up from a squat to deliver one very nasty right uppercut to the head...

...Only there was one slight problem. In doing so, he sprang right up where Verneal himself was aiming to punch. And Verneal's hits were quite nasty themselves.

Nasty enough to snap Keith's head back, make him very woozy and bleed a bit from the head. Unable to maintain balance even with the Force, much less in the face of the collision, he collapsed to the floor.

A couple of seconds later, he blacked out.

Verneal staggered around to face Keith who was still up at the time. Verneal chuckled a bit at the fact he and Keith hit each other at the same time. Verneal took a few steps towards Keith and raised his fists again, except his eyes began to roll... Not due to Keith's punch mind you, it'd normal make him either short of breath or a brief period of fainting. It was mainly drink which caused Verneal to briefly black out.

OOC: Huntaer and I kinda agreed on their, er, future location :D

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The Colonel woke up in a prison holding cell. He quickly ran through some mental exercises to clear some of that pesky grogginess from his head. He would have to reimburse the bartender, but he didn't mind...

He also noticed a small mirror, and picked it up. He had taken a headwound, but it had since stopped bleeding. Thankfully.

He then looked across the cell, and noted with amusement that General Vorneal lay there, still blacked out. Whether from drink or fight Keith couldn't tell, but it put a wry smile on his face nonetheless. However, there was something...different...about Verneal's face. Looked like a new scar amongst the many.

Still bearing a wry grin, Keith Allaire started to poke the General. "Hey, General Vorneal, wake up. Still think I'm a pussy?"

Verneal moaned for a few seconds, and then grumbled in his usual gruff voice, "Yes I do," then, in a slight whisper, "damn kids." The General slowly brought himself up to his feet, slowly swinging from left to right as he stood. "Great. A cell. Haven't seen one of these since I was last accused of misconduct in the Empire," Verneal rubbed his eyes and took another good look at who told him to wake up, "Oh great..." he mumbled under his breath. He walked over to the mirror and took a look at his face. Yup, that's part of the reasons for my headache all right. Got a new scar. "What now?"

"I heard that." Keith, still standing, crossed his arms at the General's "damn kids" musings. "You just insist on being difficult, don't you?"

Then the General moved on to the more serious question of how to get out of here. Keith had a remarkably simple idea. It was called: restitution.

"Eh. Suppose I should've bothered to challenge you to a duel outside, shouldn't I? Too late now I suppose...guess I need to find out how much I owe the bartender in repairs to the place. I do believe we're allowed a phone call each, I'll use mine to call that place and find out how much I owe, and I can cheat by using telepathy for a second if need be..."

Verneal almost laughed, "Phone call? Are you serious? Just use the force... Much easier, clearer, and... No cost. Maybe we should call in our calvary?"

"Umm...you do realize the bartender isn't Force sensitive, right? He wouldn't be able to reply to telepathy. But...umm...yeah. I'm pretty sure I can get diplomatic immunity crap out of here, but I'm still paying the bartender."

"I know he's not force sensitive. Just tell him to say the number in his head and you'll get it. Works for me... We both should have diplomatic immunity. Though you can bet our officer's won't be happy about us. And speak of the devil... Oh great. Here comes Councilor Melisha. You'll soon figure out half of the reason why I started drinking a bit more when I entered the alliance... Who's the old guy with her?"

"Eh, wouldn't have thought about that as I *really* don't like lifting information off of people's heads...I'd rather pay for the phone call. I have a certain...aversion to mind tricks like that even though I know how to do 'em."

A wry grin crossed the Colonel's face. "As for the officers...I'm sure the ones on the Evil Woody Thoughts side of things will get a pretty good laugh out of this..."

Then, Keith, too, noticed the two figures approaching. He soon answered the General's question..."That is Prime Minister Jacob Whitfield of Evil Woody Thoughts."

It might have surprised General Verneal (Colonel Allaire, notsomuch) that Master Whitfield did not move to berate his apprentice at all, probably because he was familiar with Woodian military culture, which dictated that certain fights were perfectly legitimate. However, he didn't have the facts of the case yet, either...

The Prime Minister would simply let the Councilor do the talking.

::Really? That old guy's the one in my reports who fought Darth Aelikes? Hmm... Reminds me of that ancient Jedi Master... Yoda I think it was.::

"Ah Councilor! How lovely it is to see you my dear lady! You're looking as young and extravagant as ever!"

Melisha hissed at Verneal's phony compliment, "Save it general. I'm quite frankly disgusted with your behavior. You can't afford to keep on sitting in bars, day after night! You've not only got the Alliance's efforts on your back, but the Galactic Federation of Free Alliance's too! Drinking can make the most respectable men into complete scoundrels and incompetent morons! And Keith! Why did you even bother to challenge him in a bar!? Surely you realized that by fighting in a bar you'd be arrested?"

::See? She gives me a hard time for only one reason... Oh and Keith? Lemme give you a suggestion... Don't get involved with dames.::

"I heard that General."

"Damn it."

Yep. Tougher than he looks, ain't he? Looking like an inexperienced n00b, or a senile old man, for that matter, is great for deception...

The Colonel then turned his attention to the Councilor. "Councilor Melisha, I am not acquainted with custom in the Huntaerian Alliance, but in the Woodian military, to not defend your dignity in situations such as those that arose in the bar is considered a great sign of weakness. Though, in hindsight, you are correct, I should have at least taken it outside. And I will make restitution to the bartender for the damage as soon as I get out of here."

Master Whitfield nodded. He didn't even have to tell his apprentice to take responsibility for such things, and only awaited the Councilor's response...

The Councilor sighed, men she thought to herself, "Fine. Now, Prime Minister, is there any way we can get this over with now and go to more diplomatic negotiations as soon as these fools are released?"

:: Dames...::

"Oh and Verneal? Don't try and think I can't detect your force conversations."

"We certainly can get this over with now. If the Coredian Government complains...let's just say that I'm granting diplomatic immunity to my adjutant, to be blunt." Master Whitfield picked the lock on the cell door with little more than a thought, and then the bars slid to one side.

"Colonel Allaire, go pay that restitution to the bartender."

"Yes, Mr. Prime Minister," he said sheepishly, before leaving...

Melisha sighs again, and hands Whitfield a datapad, "this contains the coordinates of the Alliance's base. I hope you can meet with the Council and some of our more... Respectable Generals. In the meantime, may the force be with you."

She held the door open for Verneal, who slowly and cautiously, as a drunk person could, walked out. Melisha moved her hand to show Verneal the way out of the door, and then closed the cell door as Verneal exited. She waited a few moments for him to get down the hall way and thought to herself that tapping into the Dark Side very once in a while can't be of any harm... She recalled to one of her earliest teachings: A person(s) cannot get rid of the savage that's within him or her by denying it. The only way to get rid of your temptation is to yield to it... So, what the hell. She raised a hand, and small bolts of lightning hurled towards the General, and he yelped in surprise.

"You god damned woman!" Verneal shouted, and broke into a sprint as he left the building to get to their shuttle... And leave before she caught up with him. While he did have the knowledge to absorb/block lightning shot at him, it wouldn't be enough to what the Councilor was planing to hurtle at him. The Councilor innocently grinned like a child would after they broke your favorite dish or picture.

A wry grin crossed Whitfield's face as the Councilor disciplined the General. As he took the datapad, he might just show the slightest traces of a sense of humor after all...

Now, now...

Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to...suffering.

Slightly more publicly, the Prime minister said, "Indeed, I look forward to that meeting. Hope you don't mind if I bring the Colonel with?"

-------------------------

Meanwhile, the Colonel paid a visit to the bar. Needless to say, the bartender wasn't that happy, and wanted Keith Allaire out for starting the fight that damaged the bar counter and innumerable tables, and he raised his blaster once again.

Keith responded with that arresting glare of his, that glare that warned not to try any stunts, as he approached. However, the bartender was about to get a pleasant surprise.

"How much do I owe you over last night?"

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?"

"You heard me." The Colonel's voice didn't leave a whole lot of room for questioning.

"Well...the bartab for you and that other character came to thirty-five credits, mostly that other character though..."

"No...I mean to repair the damage."

"Umm...just a moment." The bartender turned to some paperwork he had behind the counter. Insurance claim forms. "Six thousand, three hundred twenty credits."

Keith handed the bartender a debit card. "Seven thousand. Sorry about the mess." He tended to have a lot in his bank accounts, savings tended to accumulate quickly when a high-ranking officer made a point of living off of NCO pay.

The bartender had a look of shock on his face; this was the first time he could *ever* remember someone who broke shit in a barfight offering restitution, much less extra restitution. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Swipe the card before I change my mind."

The bartender wasted no time, swiped the thing, and handed it back to Keith, who quickly left.

A wry grin crossed Whitfield's face as the Councilor disciplined the General. As he took the datapad, he might just show the slightest traces of a sense of humor after all...

Now, now...

Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to...suffering.

Slightly more publicly, the Prime minister said, "Indeed, I look forward to that meeting. Hope you don't mind if I bring the Colonel with?"

::Not necessarily... You just need some ideas from other than the narrow minded views of the Jedi. They got the right idea though.::

Melisha smiled at the request to bring Keith along, "Sure. Bring whom you want."

::Not necessarily... You just need some ideas from other than the narrow minded views of the Jedi. They got the right idea though.::

Melisha smiled at the request to bring Keith along, "Sure. Bring whom you want."

Eh, I have some such ideas. I am a practitioner of Trákata, which many Jedi won't touch. In case you couldn't tell...I was having a bit of fun.

A few days later

A small shuttle that looked like a Naboo royal skiff dropped out of hyperspace at the specified coordinates.

But it was not a particularly luxurious shuttle--it was a military shuttle, nearly all creature comforts removed in favor of engines. Big engines, that'd make smugglers drool. Engines that could outrun all but the absolute fastest starfighters.

The shuttle quickly transmitted an EWT IFF signal, but recognizing that it might not be in the Alliance's records yet, made a voice transmission as well. "This is Colonel Keith Allaire of Evil Woody Thoughts, here with the Prime Minister Whitfield, to keep an...appointment with Councilor Melisha."

The Colonel angled the craft towards the biggest planet in the system, the green-and-blue one, the one that looked tropical. It didn't take him long to light the engines, either, and both master and apprentice were thrown back into their seats as the craft jolted forward, with an acceleration that overloaded the compensators and made the thing feel like an old Saturn V rocket at liftoff.

Keith didn't like to waste time, that much was for sure.

The Prime Minister rolled his eyes. Why must you do this...

"Request to land confirmed. The Alliance welcomes you. Prepare for docking."

---------------------------------

Meanwhile...

"This is ridiculous! Why the hell do we have to dress up? I sure as hell didn't dress up for that ceremony on Konoha..." Verneal was rushing through out the hallways, trying to find his entire dress suit. He couldn't remember where he exactly hid it.

He ran into Melisha, who was wearing her dress robes, "oh honestly... Just use one of the new Mark II Tactical Dreadnought Armor we stole from the Empire. It'll look nice enough."

"Request to land confirmed. The Alliance welcomes you. Prepare for docking."

"Acknowledged." Keith raised the throttle, much to the chagrin of his master...then shortly before encountering the planet's atmosphere, raised shields and put the thing in full reverse to slow it down.

Are you *trying* to get us killed, Keith?

The young Colonel grinned as the shuttle streaked across the sky, leaving a flaming contrail in its wake as the shield dissapated the heat of entry (no thanks to Keith's entry speed and angle), as well as making the air smell of a hint of ozone...

---------------------------------

Meanwhile...

"This is ridiculous! Why the hell do we have to dress up? I sure as hell didn't dress up for that ceremony on Konoha..." Verneal was rushing through out the hallways, trying to find his entire dress suit. He couldn't remember where he exactly hid it.

He ran into Melisha, who was wearing her dress robes, "oh honestly... Just use one of the new Mark II Tactical Dreadnought Armor we stole from the Empire. It'll look nice enough."

Little did Verneal know that the Colonel was coming. Or, for that matter, that he had spent hours convincing Master Whitfield that, based upon his previous encounter with General Vorneal, Class A dress uniform wasn't really necessary. (He hated flashy uniforms, and strongly preferred battle dress).

The two stepped off the craft and onto the landing pad, the Prime Minister/Jedi Master wearing conventional Jedi robes, with his apprentice...in woodland camo battle dress uniform, standard-issue steel-toe boots, sleeves rolled up, (captured) lightsaber glinting in the sun. Make no mistake, the Colonel did take meticulous care of his BDU, but it wasn't exactly dressy...was much more comfortable in the heat and humidity though.

The two stepped off, and didn't immediately see anyone.

Why do I not have a good feeling? Keith sensed something, but didn't know what to make of it.

Try not to get into another barfight.

"Christ... What the hell are we waiting for? I got an army to organize for the GFFA... This is nuts," Verneal shifted in the new Tactical Dreadnought Armor he just put on. He never liked putting on new suits...

Melisha sighed at Verneal's comment, Councilor Jorrus just chuckles, "patients General. We're meeting with some Woodian Representatives. Hopefully it's their leader... Oh, Melisha? Don't say anything."

Melisha was about to protest, but stopped. The Woodian shuttle landed, and the honor guards stood at attention with the three officers (Jorrus, Verneal, Melisha) at the front. Jorrus stood in front of the door, waiting for the appropriate time to exit, "Ok, lets go and greet them. We've made them wait long enough." The small group of honor guard and the three leaders marched through the door, with the huntarian Standard Banners in the rear. Jorrus was the first to march up to Whitfield and Keith. He gave the Prime Minister the traditional Old Republic Salute.

Part of Colonel Allaire wished he had brought the Evil Woody Thoughts colors with him; the other part of him simply regarded that as ceremonial crap.

Apparently, your speedy entry didn't allow any time for the Huntaerians to prepare, the Prime Minister shot at Keith telepathically.

Ummm.......yes Master.

However, the honor guard, at least, would have no clue as to the conversation. Whitfield was able to keep the start of it private from prying minds, but Keith, as a padawan, could only attempt to. He quietly hoped that their hosts weren't prying.

At any rate, the Colonel fell in step with the Prime Minister, walking to his left. Keith could tell by the formation position that neither General Verneal nor Councilor Melisha was the most important person here, instead the stranger in front of them, and relayed such telepathically to Whitfield. Upon stopping before the Huntaerian delegation, both returned Jorrus' salute.

The Prime Minister did the talking. Fortunately, thanks to some digging around in Coredian databases, he need not look completely stupid. His voice came surprisingly clear for his age (he was not immortal like the Huntaerians), piercing the air with "Hail Jorrus, Supreme Councilor of the Huntaerian Alliance."

"Hail Jacob Whitfield, Prime Minister of Evil Woody Thoughts. Yes, I am the Supreme Councilor as you have probably read in Coredian Databases. It's a pleasure to meet you finally in person," Jorrus extended his hand in greeting. Meanwhile, the two Standard Banners snickered for a few moments silently to avoid detection from the five characters in the front, "please Prime Minister, follow me to the Council Chambers." As the others followed the Supreme Councilor, one of the Standard Banner's stuck their flag poll out in front of Keith's feet, aiming to trip him.

Whitfield extended his hand likewise in greeting, and the party started to proceed inside...

...when Keith felt a flagstaff brush up against his leg. Hard. He stumbled, but did not trip, and turned eyes left...

...and yanked the flagstaff right out of the color guard's hand. He had enough respect for the colors to refrain from whacking the perpetrator across the head with such flagstaff right then and there; if blood was going to splatter, he wanted to keep it off the Huntaerian flags. The Colonel presented the flagstaff to Prime Minister Whitfield for temporary holding whilst he fired off a pretty scathing telepathic request (he recognized that his officers' commission was...kind of in the wrong country to do this without permission) to Supreme Councilor Jorrus...

Permission to assume command of this unit. The tone in the thought was that of ice, and indeed, the Colonel's eyes seemed much brighter than they had just a moment before, burning a bright blue that made him look like particle projector bolts would issue forth from his eyes. He was not a happy camper, and it would be perfectly clear to the recipient of that little request the Colonel's opinion about the honor guard's apparent lack of discipline...

::Permission granted Colonel,:: Jorrus nodded, ::lets see what you can do.::

Acknowledged. An icy grin formed on the Colonel's face as he turned to face the ragtag unit.

His voice scared the birds away, because it carried so well. And because he was pissed. The Prime Minister resisted the reflexive desire to cover his ears--he had never seen his apprentice like this before.

Then again, a unit that pulled shit like this would never have gotten out of the first two weeks of basic alive in Evil Woody Thoughts.

"Platoon, by my command, atten-TION!"

The Colonel shot the unit an icy stare, his narrowed eyes flashing a blue brighter than the hue of a lightsaber, making sure to penetrate everyone's eyes individually. He was pretty much in full intimidation mode now...and his captured lightsaber glistened in the sun, a reminder to those attentive enough to notice it that though Keith was a few inches shorter than most of the Huntaerian troops, messing with him just *might* be a bad idea.

At last he came to the one who attempted to trip him, reading his name and rank insignia on his uniform. "Private Steuben," he said coldly, deliberately omitting any reference to his private-first-class rank, as if giving a demotion. Staring straight into him, the Colonel continued, "Did you wish to challenge me to a fight or something?"

The private just grinned, and immediately attempted to kick Keith in the groin. Of course, what he didn't realize was how futile it was...

The Colonel was quick. Damn quick. The Force was quite useful for anticipating these kinds of things.

He simply grabbed the private's leg with and pulled him off balance, while moving the rest of his body off to the side so he was not hit. And he pulled hard.

Even worse for the private, he did not let go...

While continuing to use his left arm, with clenched grip that wasn't likely to go anywhere, to hold the private's leg in place, he used his right arm to pull off the trooper's boot as hard as he could...

The private started to resist obviously, but it got him no where. His boot came flying off, incidentally breaking several toes in multiple places from having resisted.

All the meanwhile Verneal watched this, nodding to himself. Now where do I recognize that guy from... He seems oddly familiar... Having been shitfaced when he first met Keith, Verneal didn't immediately recognize the Colonel.

Colonel Allaire immediately grabbed the exposed foot, and twisted it as hard as he could...which was pretty hard. Toes weren't the only thing he intended to break today. Nay, he wasn't going to let go until he heard the satisfying snap of the recalcitrant private's ankle...

Then came the loud SNAP! that had even the private stair out in space for a few moments, shocked. The rest of the squadron grew quiet, not making a single noise. The rest stayed straight at attention, no matter how badly they needed to barf from the noise...

The Colonel sneered as he heard the sickening sound of bones snapping in the private's ankle. Upon breaking his foot, he shoved the private away from him.

Of course, getting shoved that hard with only one intact foot might present some problems for maintaining balance.

"Get up! NOW!" Colonel Allaire bellowed. Of course...that would be a bit difficult for the poor private, who had made the mistake of pissing off a Woodian officer.

"I said, GET UP!" Colonel Allaire hauled the private back up, by his hair, only to unleash a brutal uppercut with his other hand...

Prime Minister Jacob Whitfield, meanwhile, watched his apprentice own the Huntaerian trooper, seemingly emotionless.

Better now than on the battlefield, he thought to himself. As he had been one of the more...militaristic...politicians in Evil Woody Thoughts, he was intimately familiar with Woodian military culture, and he knew that Woodian officers didn't suffer themselves to be tripped by green recruits. He had also seen what discipline could do...firsthand, during the civil war, when Keith had pulled thirty-six hour days routinely, with three or less hours of sleep in between, to plan flanking movements against defenses that would otherwise slaughter civilians to force hostage situations, even while the rest of his unit slept.

The Jedi Order had sent Taylor Masaki to assist. These green Huntaerian troops reminded Whitfield of him...young. Inexperienced. Arrogant.

Keith was young, no doubt about that...about the same age as Taylor. Huntaerian leaders would consider him inexperienced, though he had proven that he knew his shit more than once. And the Colonel sure seemed arrogant now...a civilian would've gotten off much easier.

Taylor and Keith hadn't gotten along too well during the war itself. Yet, as Whitfield had managed to gradually instill patience and humility in Taylor...his counterpart had instilled discipline.

And discipline was something the men standing in front of him sorely lacked. Until they were afraid their personal safety depended upon it, that is.

As sickening the sound of popping bones filling the air was...the Colonel was being merciful. Whitfield knew this. Many Woodian officers would have simply shrugged and shot the rogue private in the head, on the spot...

The Private's head lurched backwards as the upper cut hit him in the face. His jaw ached as result, and a big imprint of a fist could be seen now upon his face as he fell backwards towards the ground again.

That'll leave him a new scar, Verneal thought to himself. Still... Where the hell do I know that guy from?

A bit of the private's blood splattered all over Keith's hand, forearm, and the rolled-up sleeve of his uniform. As the private crumpled to the ground, still conscious (and probably in great pain...), yet too stunned to do much of anything, Keith looked down at his bloodied hand and forearm; streaks of blood (blood that wasn't his own) slowly ran down his forearm, and dried in the process.

He then walked up to where the private lay on the ground, beaten damn near helpless in the span of about a minute or less, glaring first at the recalcitrant private, and then at the rest of the unit, which now stood miraculously at attention, dead silent, and clearly not wanting to share in the private's fate. Keith would make an example out of the one who had tried to trip him...then when called on it, had the gall to try to kick him.

How fitting, then, that Colonel Allaire kicked the private in the head, already bleeding from the earlier blow, with his steel-toed boot. He then stepped on the private's bloodied nose, and pressed down, grinding the private's face into the ground.

From this position, he glared at the remainder of the "honor" guard, while still keeping a mental "eye" on the private through the Force, to make sure he didn't try to pull anything. He did not waste words, and his voice practically shook the ground.

"I will make one thing perfectly clear. I do not suffer insubordinate stunts. If EVER one of you disrespects a superior officer, or head of state for that matter, you will find yourself fighting a Trial of Position against me--to the DEATH. You had better HOPE that General Verneal, or Prime Minister Whitfield, or Councilor Melisha, or Supreme Councilor Jorrus gets to you first. I broke this maggot's ankle and his face, the next maggot to display such lack of discipline will get his NECK broken."

The Colonel allowed himself a breath before finishing.

"IS

THAT

CLEAR!?"

The Colonel applied more bodyweight against the private's face.

The Honor Guards faces were whiter than ghosts, as they straightened themselves up and shouted out "SIR YES SIR!" They didn't wanna get the same treatment the private just got. The private just whimpered a small noise, meaning "yes." Now I haven't seen training like that in a very long time Verneal thought to himself. Still... That guy looks familiar... If only his damned name wasn't blocked all the time...

The Colonel kicked the private again in the face before he heard Whitfield's voice.

"Colonel Allaire, I do believe that you have made your point..."

The Colonel glared at the unit, their faces frozen. "As I said, you'd better hope that if you try that shit again, you run into him before you run into me."

He then released the poor private from the continuing torture of his boot. "Now, Supreme Councilor Jorrus...I do believe you were interested in...negotiations."

Verneal's jaw dropped as he heard the name Allaire, "Oh no. Not you!" Then something else dawned on him... He turned to face Melisha, "you knew that it was him that was coming didn't you?"

"Indeed I did."

"But you had me rush to dress up in a DRESS UNIFORM?" Verneal jabbed a finger towards Keith, "he doesn't even like dressing up for these things! That outfit he's wearing isn't even ceremonial!

Then Jorrus piped in, "actually, it was my idea General."

"... You're joking," Verneal growled loudly.

Jorrus's smile grew wider, "I can assure you Verneal that I am not," he knew that Verneal didn't like dressing up for anything, period. But he also knew that Verenal wouldn't refuse a direct order from him.

"Damn you. Making me sweat over this for this Colonel..." then he just began to ramble to himself.

Jorrus and Melisha beamed at Verneal's reaction, the Jorrus turned to Whitfield, "now then, yes I believe that it is time for negotiations."

The Colonel actually felt a bit sorry for General Verneal, but restrained himself from showing it. Until he spoke, that is, with a straight face.

"Supreme Councilor Jorrus, there must be some reason for requiring the good General to don full body armor...that would have something to do with me, would it not?"

The Prime Minister, not wanting to get sidetracked, spoke before the Supreme Councilor had the chance to reply to the Colonel. "And would you be so kind as to give us a...starting point for these negotiations? The information I have to date about what you are interested in is...quite vague."

While Jorrus didn't have the time to respond to the Colonel, he did manage to give Keith a friendly wink, "yes of course Prime Minister. We need assistance in our civil war efforts. We've noticed that you've already fought, and declared war upon, our darker brethren. And after reading the reports on your defense against the Empire, the Council thought it was best that we should contact you, and build relationships."

Whitfield gave a subtle nod in the general direction of Colonel Allaire. "That much my adjutant has already told me, from his previous meeting with General Verneal. Would you care to elaborate, please?"

Jorrus nodded his head, "aaah. Well in that case, we mainly want to build up a treaty between our two nations, trade technologies, set up trade roots, military training. You know, the while shibang."

"As in a PIAT?" Master Whitfield inquired.

Colonel Allaire glared at the Prime Minister. "Stop it with the damned acronyms. Peace, Intelligence, and Aid Treaty for the benefit of, at the very least, that little formation over there--" he nodded towards the now-well-behaved honor guard--"if not the Huntaerian officials themselves. And let me guess. Article 1. The contracting parties agree not to attack the other, blah blah, standard non-aggression stuff. Article 2. Both contracting parties agree to share intelligence resources with one another. Insert military training to suit this situation. Article 3. Both contracting parties agree to allow free trade between their respective citizens, subject to such reasonable regulation for the prevention of corruption that the politician over here may haggle over. Article 4. Insert the results of technology negotiations here. Insert mandatory über flowery diplomatic language throughout." The Colonel finally shut his mouth and rolled his eyes. "He's gonna turn me into a politician yet..." *sigh*

"More or less. The Colonel is...rather blunt. However, he would also be a good one to negotiate over training and disclosure of...military technologies." Whitfield wished his apprentice hadn't had that slightly sarcastic tone in his voice, though the Prime Minsiter knew it was there precisely because he had been around politicians too much...

Jorrus nods his head understanding what the Colonel was talking about, and smiled, "that's what we're interested in basically. Now... I know that you'll be very interested in our technological capabilities," Jorrus hands Whitfield a datapad, "this contains a brief description of some of our technology which we have to offer."

"Military technology...the Colonel is better suited to evaluate than I." Whitfield handed over the list to his adjutant.

Colonel Allaire's eyebrows immediately raised. It did not take him long to start devising...creative ways to use the technologies described.

Very creative ways.

Most of the technologies would be most useful to the Immortal II project...

"I know for a fact that our engineers would be...most interested in your capacitators, as we like to cram as much power into a ship as we possibly can," the Colonel began. "And already my mind dreams up some pretty...interesting ramming tactics with these piercing shields of yours. I have no doubt that our engineers would like to play with them as well, perhaps incorporate them into the multi-layered-shielding-system that we are lifting off the captured Megadolon. They will be adding their modifications, of course. It might interest you to know that we Woodians prototyped the Immortal Star Destroyer from reverse-engineering a standard Imperial Star Destroyer, adding some technology from ground 'Mechs we had bought, and scaling the whole thing up...eleven years after our first hyperspace jump. Rest assured we can put this to very good use. I suspect that your seismic weaponry is already redundant with much of our pre-hyperdrive technology, but it might be worth a look anyway..." The Colonel could not help a wide grin from crossing his face.

"I can understand that Prime Minister. However... It is somewhat required for our leaders to understand a small amount of our technology," Verneal wasn't lying either. At least one member of the council helped contribute some of the technological designs for the Alliance's Military, "feel free to go through the list over a few times. Some of the technology we might be able to give to you, the only exceptions might be the ones we purchased. Just point at any and I'll discuss this with the council."

"Since when did I say I was unfamiliar with military technology? I also had a hand in the development of our...own seismic warheads. There are those for whom being familiar with military issues is nice, and there are those whose livelihood depends on it," Whitfield answered. "Colonel Allaire, are you done with that list?"

"Yes, Master." He handed the list back to Whitfield, who agreed with his judgement upon reading it more.

"Councilor Jorrus, would you mind if I brought a single Immortal Star Destroyer over here? I believe the two of us have already reached consensus, but there will be...other interested parties. It'd be interesting to see what our engineers have to say."

The Supreme Councilor nodded in agreement, "and our engineers as well. Yes you may do so. If your star destroyers are of anything like our reports say they are, then we'd be very interested to see them in action as well."

The Colonel smiled at Councilor Jorrus' last comment. "If you are willing to place your fleet under the very temporary command of Admiral Makaryk...we can do a little demonstration. Assuming your navy is more disciplined than your army, that is."

He then subtly put his hand in his pocket and his arm twitched. That twitch was slightly indicative of a call button...to summon Admiral Makaryk's command ship.

Keith glanced down at the commlink display. "Estimated arrival time: nineteen hours, twenty-four minutes. It's coming from quite a distance obviously."

Jorrus nodded, "our navy is generally more disciplined than our armies. Admiral Craimorn saw to that when he hid with me during the republic's fall. He's very determined. While our guys might be still as nervous as our army guys are under stressful conditions... They're more obedient to orders. This should be interesting."

The Colonel nodded with a grin. "So...who do you want doing the testing on whom?"

It was Verneal's turn to pipe up, "we've recently developed a new Phaser Array utilizing the Coredian Beam Lasers and our Hyper-X capacitors. We need to do testing with those. If you don't mind... We'd like to do the firing first, then we switch."

The Colonel nodded. "One thing: it is imperative in a shield stress test that the attacking ships be under the command of the defending fleet's captain or admiral, as the defender is better positioned to react with the HOLD command upon shield failure than the attacker, having to get that information from sensor readings, is. Short reaction time prevents needless damage to armor and hull. Therefore, when Huntaerians are firing, they would do so under the command of the Woodians, and when the Immortal fires, its crew would place themselves under your command. Is this acceptable?"

Verneal raised his eyebrows, "Interesting. The commander of the defending fleet controls the offensive fleet? I'd like to see this thing work. I've seen some weird shit in my time, but this one takes the cake," Jorrus glanced over to verneal, somewhat glaring his eyes at the General, as though he might have said something borderline offensive, "what?"

"The reason for that will be perfectly clear when you observe the test," the Colonel replied with a smile. "We do a lot of shit that other militaries have never seen before. Our unpredictability is probably our greatest strength against the Empire."

OOC: Huntaer, you gotta find stuff for all the characters in this thread to do for the next nineteen NS hours. Move it along please.:D

OOC: I've found it... Fluid time FTW. Assume your characters have a place to stay at the alliance's base.

IC:

It wasn't long before the Alliance leaders and their guests were forced to retire for the day, given the fact that the two Woodians had a very long travel time, and that their fleet was going to take ~ 19hrs to arrive in the alliance's system. Prime Minister Whitfield and Colonel Allaire were given guest suits in the alliance's base (and they were slightly better than the higher Alliance officer's too). This meant that Verneal, Jorrus, and Melisha could finally get some rest which they were in a desperate need of. It wasn't long before the General fell asleep in his quarters.

It didn't take Verneal long to fall asleep and start snoring. He soon dreampt of getting a tan at some tropical retirement planet, drinking a good few glasses of Aldebron Whiskey and he had a woman beside him. This went on for quite some time. Unfortunately for the Major General, it was rudely disrupted by him receiving a pillow thrown at his face, "zzz--Scru---What the..." he soon saw the next one coming at him and drew his pistol which he kept under his pillow and fired 8 or so shots. Feathers flew everywhere, "all right what time is it..."

"It's 0300 General," came a small voice from outside his door, and another pillow came from it's direction.

"Oh three hund--JUKASSA! I'll make sure Jorrus will hear about this one! Disturbing a superior officer this early in the morning jeez..."

A young boy no older than the age of 11 with brown eyes and buzzed hair poked his head out of the doors and smiled, "actually sir, Master Jorrus told me to, and I quote, 'rudely disturb you in any means possible,' end quote."

Verneal rubbed his eyes and collapsed into his bed again, "tell him to get some other sap to do his mid-night stuff. I'm wiped out..."

"He said it was something about training and mentioned a weird group of people who were staying here... Something like Woodies... That their ship has arrived. He said he'll get someone named 'Kieth' to wake you up if I was unsuccessful."

Verneal grumbled, "damn it to hell..." and finally got up.

Jukassa was about to leave then looked back, "oh and sir? Might I suggest that if you're angry, that you should hit a pillow or something like that. Keeping it all bottled up inside is unhealthy."

Verneal stared in space before turning around to his own bed, "oh," he lifted his gun and pointed it at his pillow, and fired several times. "Yeah, that does work."

Jukassa was shocked for a bit, "Erm... wasn't quite what I meant..." then he saw Verneal flex his muscles and cocked his gun again, pointing at the ground, slowly raising it, "I think I'll leave now."

"Good call kid. Tell Jorrus I'll be there in 30 minutes," at that Jukassa scurried off. Verneal then walked over to his personal replicator, "Pillow." Few moments later, he withdrew a new pillow from the machine, fluffed it up for a few seconds and laid back down onto his bed and sighed that'll by me some time I think.

::Most definably not General,::

Get out of my head Melisha!

::Only if you get up... NOW.::

Fine. Verneal then had to force himself up... Skorm knows what Melisha will do to him if he didn't. He quickly got dressed appropriately (for him anyways) and then marched on over to the Council Chambers.

While General Verneal slumbered, the Colonel relayed some...advice to the Huntaerian captains who were slated to run the shield stress tests. Something along the lines of "Be sure that you monitor where every joule on the ship is going, be it to a turbolaser battery or the lightbulb in the janitor's closet...or the usefulness of the test is damn near negated. It is designed to find inefficiencies in the vessel's electrical system just as much as it is to test the shield." The Colonel also spent considerable time calming officers who freaked out at the idea of being under the command of the defending ships, and assuring Huntaerians that no, Woodians were not inherently crazy. At least unless it came to ramming.

As for rest...the two had only had a five hour journey, so they weren't that tired. Woodian military shuttles were basically Naboo royal skiffs with creature comforts swapped for engines, so much so that full sublight acceleration felt like riding a vintage Saturn V rocket and the hyperdrive would make even Han Solo drool. Nevertheless, there was plenty of time for the two of them to get a full eight hours' worth of sleep--not that fifteen minutes in Jedi hibernation trance (which the master had already taught his apprentice) wouldn't have had an identical effect. The two of them both had some time to kill.

Two commlinks beeped upon the arrival of the Woodian ship bearing Admiral Makaryk, he who had finished what Admiral Riordan had started at the Battle of Konoha, in the system. Like their Huntaerian counterparts, Prime Minister Whitfield and Colonel Allaire went off to the Council chambers after briefly cleaning themselves up, the former, in traditional Jedi robes, the latter, wearing the same decidedly non-dress uniform he had worn before.

Verneal marched into the Council Chambers and grumbled, "all right, what's the story now? I hear the ships have arrived, and this better be a good demonstration to wake me up so early in the morning."

Jorrus nodded his head, he was tired himself but this little test/training/demonstration period was going to be one for the books, "the Woodian Admiral has arrived in space. According to our arrangements, he'll be taking command of the Andromeda, Freedom's Cry, Light Side and Redemption during our tests."

Verneal nodded, "right right. The defending fleet commands our fleet during the tests."

"Then when our testing is done, our crew will be put under stress for self control through what I've decided to call 'Special High Intensity Training,' or SHITS. We will test their mental ability to withstand live round battles."

"Prime Minister Whitfield or Colonel Allaire, have anything to add?"

"I believe that I've already briefed the orbiting fleet on...proper power measurement procedures, though I'm sure Admiral Makaryk will remind your crews," Colonel Allaire replied. "In the meantime let us grab some popcorn and watch the lightshow." A smile crossed his face; he only wished he could see the reaction of the Huntaerian crews when they were on the receiving end...

In orbit

Sure enough, Admiral Makaryk had his own little briefing on what was about to happen for the Huntaerian fleet. He sent a very short, consice transmission to the four ships against which the Immortal would be tested, even as the Numenor, his own ship, raised its own shields. And started monitoring and recording where every joule generated by the reactor was going.



ORDER OF SHIELD STRESS TEST

1. This test is useless UNLESS you measure and record where every joule on the ship goes, no matter to turbolaser or the lightbulb left on in the janitor's closet. It tests not only shield, but power throughput and efficiency. This test, used properly, is great at finding frayed wiring in even the most obscure places, therefore, EWT performs this test on ALL capital ships as part of its A-Maintenence checks ANNUALLY.

2. Therefore it is understood that measuring all power throughput is IMPERATIVE for running this test.

3. Attacking fleet is under command of defending admiral. Fire must cease immediately upon shield collapse; while this protocol seems batshit insane to most who have never seen this test performed before, it is critical to reduce reaction time from the time of shield collapse to the time that guns fall silent. Sensor officers calling the opponent's shield readings as intermidiaries are eliminated, saving reaction time and repair bills.

4. Fire only when given the order to fire. Upon the order HOLD cease fire immediately. HOLD is an order given directly to gunners; it does not have to be relayed through the attacking captain or admiral. Again, this protocol exists to reduce reaction time.

5. Power throughput data is to be analyzed after the test, and weaknesses found redressed.

Admiral Makaryk gave the Huntaerians ample time to read the transmission, far more time than it took to charge the Numenor's shield to full.

Finally the silence over Huntaerian comms was broken by Admiral Makaryk's voice. "Fire when ready."

"Fire."

The Andromeda's bridge made a loud moaning noise, making the crew a bit nervous, "Sir... Shouldn't we be doing this automated?"

"Negative ensign. Keep it going.

Moments later, the Andromeda's newly replaced XL Phaser Arrays burst out with a bright, thick green laser beam which strangely resembled that of the Death Star's. "Phaser fired, projected yield reading of nearly 4 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries... Firing again." Soon after wards, the phaser fired nearly nine to ten more times... However, something unexpeted happened. On the eleventh fire, the phaser suddenly stopped firing at the Woodian ship. Sparks flew from the security consul.

----------------
Observation area-

Verneal heard the sparks on the intercom, "what the hell just happened?" he shouts before Jorrus could answer. This wasn't looking too good...

<Sir, I don't know. It's like we got a system overload. It's as though the old wire connections didn't agree with the new Conduits we replaced in the Jeffery's Tubes.>

Verneal sighs, "Continue operation. We still need to test the new Torpedo Replicators.

<Aye sir.>
-------------------------

Andromeda...

The tactical officer punched a few buttons, "firing photon torpedoes General."
The officer pushed the big red rectangular button. Nothing happened... "Umm... Erm..." the officer presses it again. Nothing. "Damn it," he punched the button, hurting his hand. Moments later, three volleys of Photon Torpedoes spat out of the Torpedo tubes and headed for the enemy ship.

"All right... That's it."

-------------------------

Observation area

<General, I have to recommend that we end this testing for the Andromeda. This hasn't been anything but a series of malfunctions in our systems. The weapons work, producing the appropriate amount of fire we're expecting, but there are delays in the system.>

"Delays?" Jorrus's eyes narrowed, "this is my ship we're talking about... She was operating fine even with the damn Quantum Phaser Arrays and they caused less overloads even on their first test runs! The XL's are suppose to be more efficient with power consumption, even with the dramatic increase of firepower!'

The holographic image of the Tactical Officer flickered a bit, but it was mostly clear as the real person himself (unlike the static, blue image most Imperial ships use), <sir, I'm just the Tactical Officer. Yes, I've had a helping hand in installing the devices, and I think I know where they went wrong. In my professional opinion sir, I'd recommend we call it a day for the Andromeda.>

Jorrus continued to stare at Verneal, giving him the "evil eye" look, "erm..." the General quickly glanced at Jorrus's glaring eyes and then quickly looked back at the holographic image of the TO, "sounds like a plan for me. Colonel Allaire? Admiral Makaryk? What are your recommendations gentlemen?"

"Fire."

The Andromeda's bridge made a loud moaning noise, making the crew a bit nervous, "Sir... Shouldn't we be doing this automated?"

"Negative ensign. Keep it going.

Moments later, the Andromeda's newly replaced XL Phaser Arrays burst out with a bright, thick green laser beam which strangely resembled that of the Death Star's. "Phaser fired, projected yield reading of nearly 4 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries... Firing again." Soon after wards, the phaser fired nearly nine to ten more times... However, something unexpeted happened. On the eleventh fire, the phaser suddenly stopped firing at the Woodian ship. Sparks flew from the security consul.

----------------
Observation area-

Verneal heard the sparks on the intercom, "what the hell just happened?" he shouts before Jorrus could answer. This wasn't looking too good...

<Sir, I don't know. It's like we got a system overload. Like the wire connections didn't like the newly placed conduits we set up in the Jeffrey's Tubes. It's like the old wiring didn't like mixing with the new ones.>

Verneal sighs, "Continue operation. We still need to test the new Torpedo Replicators.

<Aye sir.>

The green phaser array lit up the Numenor's shield. Admiral Makaryk wondered why in the hell only the Andromeda was firing. At any rate, he kept a close eye on the shield.

Which didn't go down a whole lot. Especially given that as the Numenor wasn't returning fire, or even moving, it was pretty much dumping its reactor throughput into shield. Which meant that after an initial decline to about 95%, the shield held steady as the energy discharged by the phaser array equillibriated with the energy that the reactor dumped into the shield system...

...Then the phaser stopped.

"Think they're having technical problems, Admiral. I'm reading blown fuses on sensors."

Admiral Makaryk shook his head. "Our engineers might get to play today."

Andromeda...

The tactical officer punched a few buttons, "firing photon torpedoes General."
The officer pushed the big red rectangular button. Nothing happened... "Umm... Erm..." the officer presses it again. Nothing. "Damn it," he punched the button, hurting his hand. Moments later, three volleys of Photon Torpedoes spat out of the Torpedo tubes and headed for the enemy ship.

"All right... That's it."

The Numenor didn't even bother with countermeasures. "We mark three volleys of five torps inbound, Admiral. They don't appear to be transphasic warheads. Eleven seconds to impact on...mark."

"Let them smack upon the shield."

The Star Destroyer shook just a little as they smacked upon the shield and detonated. One turned out to be a dud, and was vaporized into space dust and shards of debris about a cubic inch, that proceded to harmlessly knick the Numenor's armor like birdshot. Birdshot against a well-armored capital ship, that is.

"Shields at ninety-three percent." They had gotten in a little bit of recharging between the phaser array and the torpedoes.

But no more torpedoes came.

"They aborting?" the Admiral asked, confused.

-------------------------

Observation area

<General, I have to recommend that we end this testing for the Andromeda. This hasn't been anything but a series of malfunctions in our systems. The weapons work, producing the appropriate amount of fire we're expecting, but there are delays in the system.>

"Delays?" Jorrus's eyes narrowed, "this is my ship we're talking about... She was operating fine even with the damn Quantum Phaser Arrays and they caused less overloads even on their first test runs! The XL's are suppose to be more efficient with power consumption, even with the increase of firepower!'

The holographic image of the Tactical Officer flickered a bit, but it was mostly clear as the real person himself (unlike the static, blue image most Imperial ships use), <sir, I'm just the Tactical Officer. Yes, I've had a helping hand in installing the devices, and I think I know where they went wrong. In my professional opinion sir, I'd recommend we call it a day for the Andromeda.>

Jorrus continued to stare at Verneal, giving him the "evil eye" look, "erm..." the General quickly glanced at Jorrus's glaring eyes and then quickly looked back at the holographic image of the TO, "sounds like a plan for me. Colonel Allaire? Admiral Makaryk? What are your recommendations gentlemen?"

Colonel Allaire, watching the aborted test from the ground, sighed. Apparently, the Huntaerian Alliance didn't particularly make a habit of maintaining its equipment. "Looks like the Apollo 13 space capsule to me, not a warship. I hope the Andromeda's crew took our advice about keeping track of where the energy's going, because that ship is a quadruple failure of doom waiting to happen. Hell, I wonder how many alarms went off in there."

Admiral Makaryk, taking part in the discussison by teleconference from the Numenor's bridge, agreed. "Let our engineers comb it. They will find what is wrong with your ship."

Admiral Makaryk, taking part in the discussison by teleconference from the Numenor's bridge, agreed. "Let our engineers comb it. They will find what is wrong with your ship."

Verneal nodded, "very well Admiral. I'll meet your engineers in a little while. General Verneal out."

Verneal walked away to go to the Transporter Room to get over to the Andromeda ASAP, but was stopped by Jorrus for a few moments, "General... A word with you."

Verneal rubbed his eyes, sighed, "yeah Jorrus?"

"What were you doing when you were installing these systems? They should've been installed perfectly. It's why I chose you."

"I was doing exactly what you told me."

"Verneal..."

"What do you want me to say?"

Jorrus pointed to Verneal's gun holster, which was empty but shut, "open." Verneal did as he was told, and opened the holster. Jorrus peered into the holster, to find that indeed nothing was in it, "hmm..."

Verneal smiled, "what, you didn't think I'd put another Valdron Whiskey in there again, did you?"

"No, I suppose you're too smart to do the same mistake twice." Verneal then turned around, and began to walk towards Transporter Room Two, he reached for his metallic canister, which most standard officers used to carry water around in and took a big loud swig. "Hold on a minute there Verneal. Get back here. NOW." Verneal sighed and walked to the Councilor. "Hand me the canister."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"NOW." Verneal grumbled and mumbled to himself for a few seconds as he reluctantly handed over his canister. Jorrus unscrewed the cap, and looked in it. While it looked like your normal everyday clear liquid... Jorrus took a swig. Swished the liquid in his mouth for a bit, then swallowed. "I knew it..."

"Come on, that stuff takes days to get to you..."

"Which was why the Republic made it illegal in the first place before it collapsed. Now get going." Verneal stormed off to the turbo lift, without his daily source of sanity. After Jorrus was sure Verneal was gone, he sniffed the canister again, then, What the hell, and took a few more swigs. He'll allow the force to clear out the Alcohol from his system.

While the Huntaerians went to the transporters, the Prime Minister with adjutant went to the shuttle upon which they had come here. Both Prime Minister and adjutant preferred...traditional dockings.

They took a bit longer, but they were more leisurely, and besides, as a conventional Jedi, Master Whitfield didn't particularly care for transporters.

The engineers aboard the Numenor, however, had no such compunctions, and transported aboard the Andromeda before the "official" Woodian dignitaries docked. Said engineers wasted no time in asking to analyze the energy data collected during the test. Judging by the condition of what visible wiring there was, that should be interesting.

Master Whitfield was silent after disembarking the shuttle and stepping onto the docking bay. The Colonel wasn't. "So this is the Apollo 13 command module, eh?"

"Stop it with the wisecracks."

"Yes, Master."

Verneal stepped off of the transporter pad, "well then lets get this over... What the hell?" Verneal's face fell as he walked off of the transporter pad. Wires were poking out of the ceilings, smoking. Verneal's jaw dropped in utter shock, "What... The... Hell... Happened?"

The transporter chief sighed, "sir, it looks like there's been a shortage in the main power supply throughout the ship. It looks as though when we tested the new weapons system, the main wire went kaput. We got power running through auxiliary power supplies, so we'll be all right until we can get this fixed."

Verneal sighed, "thanks ensign." now I know why the Empire never took the Alliance too seriously. I'll bet the Woodians are laughing their asses off. "Which way to the shuttle bay again?"

"Sir, take a left, straight down the hall and bear right. Take the following turbolift to the shuttle bay area."

"Thanks," Verneal rushed to meet the Woodians waiting in the shuttle bay in moments. "Hey guys. Looks like we found the problem all right. The main power conduit was shorted out while we fired our new XL Phaser Arrays. Those things produce quite a punch in both damaging and power draining seems. We'll need to reconfigure the entire conduit/wiring network of this ship to fit in all of the recent technology according to the chief's diagnostics," he handed Keith a datapad detailing everything that went wrong, down to every power reading which occurred... Right down to the light bulb in the Janitor's Office.

OOC: Dammit, by the time you posted, I'd been in bed for three hours...

-----------------

Keith wasn't himself an engineer, but he knew enough from maintaining 'Mechs to know that these power readings handed to them were done fucked up. "Do you not maintain your ships at all?" he asked as he summoned an engineer who had opted to take a shuttle off the Numenor. He handed the datapad to the engineer, who diagnosed even wider problems...

"It doesn't look like the wiring has even been checked in the last century," the engineer warned. "About twenty percent of the auxillary wiring looks to be frayed and within a year of failure. And if the maintenance standards of this vessel are any indication...your entire fleet needs refit." He looked at the Prime Minister... "We're gonna need every fleet tender we have..."

Verneal's eyes raised as the engineer's comments, either the guy over-analyzed due to not knowing the ship's system layout, or he was actually inexperienced... Verneal assumed the first one. "Umm... Several things... First off, this ship is only like, two years old. Second... You're not looking at the auxiliary wiring that's hanging around here. It's the replicator wiring. The transporters are connected to the Torpedo Replicators due to the fact that they use some of the same replication technology. I can't get into details as I think you should know some of how they'd be connected. But..." Verneal looked at the datapad the Engineer had in his hands, "yeah, it has been a while since we've done a proper refit. However you'll be more relaxed to know that we've only upgraded this ship and the other two Eclipse Star Destroyers with the new technology for this test. So now that we know where it went wrong," somewhat... "we should know what to repair with the rest of the fleet to make the process more simple."

"So...you're telling me that the little weapons console that blew also managed to damage wiring connected to it this far away? God damn, what happened to the circuit breaker? Ugh..." The engineer did not have a good feeling about this...

The Colonel simply glared in response to the exchange...at the Huntaerians. That glare that made it perfectly clear that he wanted to meet the Alliance engineers who, apparently, had failed to test the new technology in the labratory before mounting it in a capital ship where it could fry damn near the entire electrical system (or so it seemed). And by "meet the engineers..." well, the look on his face indicated that there would be no pleasantries to dispense. Until the Prime Minister slapped him across the head, that is, as if to wake him up. "Decorum, decorum," Whitfield scolded his apprentice.

Keith pointed a thumb back to the Prime Minister and looked at General Verneal. "See what I gotta deal with?"

"At least he's trying to remind you of good manners... Like a proper master. Melisha's just a bitch..." He rubbed his back, still suffering from several Force Lightning strikes he got from Melisha whenever she was in a bad mood, or when he accidentally pushed one of her buttons... "Still, we need help in these repairs. The Alliance has been lacking the resources in this area even before I signed on. Engineer, I hope you like cramped spaces, because we're about to go into the Jeffrey's Tubes."

"Your point is...well seen," the Colonel replied, remembering that his proficiency in combat came from military training methods that some would classify as torture. "As far as the resources go..." Keith trailed off as he pointed to the engineer, who nodded with an odd mix of eagerness to get his hands dirty and dread at the thought of what he'd find.

"Very well. Follow me, you two bureaucrats can come with us if you wish too." he said referring to Keith and Whitfield. Verneal then led the bunch along the corridors, following the path which several wires were sticking out at the top of the ceiling. to where he came across a panel and pushed a few buttons. A side door panel hissed open, and Verneal crawled through the hole, "holy shit..." was the only thing he could say when he got inside the junction. Wiring was every where. He proceeded to follow the main wiring down the Jeffery's Tubes.

"Very well. Follow me, you two bureaucrats can come with us if you wish too." he said referring to Keith and Whitfield. Verneal then led the bunch along the corridors, following the path which several wires were sticking out at the top of the ceiling. to where he came across a panel and pushed a few buttons. A side door panel hissed open, and Verneal crawled through the hole, "holy shit..." was the only thing he could say when he got inside the junction. Wiring was every where. He proceeded to follow the main wiring down the Jeffery's Tubes.

Keith glared at Verneal, as he hated bureaucratic shit. "If I'm a bureaucrat, I hate to think of how much paper you push, General," he retorted. This time the politician remained silent.

Then the entire party crawled through the Jeffery's Tubes, the engineers in the group seeming to take the most interest. And mental notes.

OOC: Get to the point plz.

"I haven't pushed too many papers. It's usually Melisha who does the work. Probably one of the reason's she's mad most of the time," Verneal crawled through the Jeffery's Tubes further down to where the wiring was really heavy.

"Phew... Engineer, see if you can crawl past me. I'd like to get your opinion on this. You should be familiar with this kind of capacitor."

"Indeed I am." The engineer, Lieutenant Rustovskii, figured that the Huntaerians had stopped here for a good reason. As he looked at the floor, he saw a small puddle of liquid. "Hmm...a leak..." He pulled a Phillips-head hydrospanner from his uniform to open up the casing...

As he removed the casing, he saw a bottle of whiskey that had somehow become turned on its side, and a bit of the whiskey splashed on him. The engineer shook his head but didn't say anything.

Everyone else saw it too. Including Colonel Allaire.

"VERNEAL! WHAT THE HELL IS ALCOHOL DOING IN A FUCKING CAPACITOR!?"

Verneal was dumbfounded. All he could do was just open his jaw, and close it repeatedly, "I think we found the problem then..." was all he could think of as a reply. Fortunately for him, this was the only ship he worked on which he was drinking. Unfortunately for him... There are three people who would be rightly justified in getting into a fight with him. Though it's highly advised that fighting should be avoided while in the Jeffery Tubes.

"Lieutenant Rustovskii, unhinge the capacitor casing. That is a direct order." Keith did not reveal why, but his voice had a particularly icy tone to it. And, as he was under the tutelage of one of the best psionic Masters in the Jedi Order, he knew how to defend his mind from Verneal's prying thoughts, unless Verneal really wanted to pry...

Keith waited for the engineer to complete the order, which didn't take long. The engineer just stood there, holding the casing.

Now, the time for Keith to decide what to do was at hand. He did have honor, after all, even as he prepared himself for the possibility of Verneal responding in deed instead of by mouth. "General Verneal, leaving whiskey overturned in the middle of a capacitor on board one of the Alliance's flagships is the most ludicrous, not to mention dangerous conduct I have ever seen from someone remotely near your paygrade. In fact, it competes with some of the things I've seen raw recruits do! Out of the tubes. Now."

Meanwhile, Keith fired off a little telepathic idea to Whitfield. It is the Woodian tradition that those, even superior officers, who pull those stunts face a Trial of Position against any party wishing to condemn such conduct. As such, and noting our current position, I'd like such a Trial. Conditions: The same procedure undertaken in a Trial of Refusal will be used to determine sides. There are three people above his rank here, one Woodian, two of the Alliance; they vote as a panel of judges. If two vote for your absolution, majority rules and the Trial of Position is annulled and does not occur. If two vote against him, he bids what he will use in the duel and he faces two to one odds. If all three vote against him, he bids what he will use in the duel and he faces three to one odds. Venue: Bridge of the EWS Numenor. A Circle of Equals will be drawn there and combatants must stay within that area or be disqualified. Weapons: Defender bids. He wanted this to occur on the bridge of the Numenor because it was more open and a proper Circle of Equals will be drawn there.

Agreed. Interesting conditions there. Whitfield replied. Then he sent another telepathic note to the two Councillors. Meet us on the bridge of the Numenor post haste. Whitfield sent a telepathic "photograph" of the liquor in the capacitor.

Verneal sighed, he knew what was going to come up next. He was too frustrated to argue with the Colonel and the group climbed backwards to where they came from previously. There was no way he was going to get out of this. Then he also got a small feeling that the two Councilor's will soon get a wind of this. What will become of him, he didn't know. Hopefully not community service Verneal thought to himself. The group continued to the transporter room as Melisha and Jorrus transported themselves to the bridge of the Numenor. Verneal was going to have a lot to explain to himself.

The group of five therefore converged on the bridge of the Numenor, which had far more...space for what the Colonel had in mind.

The Colonel was visibly pissed.

The Prime Minister simply seemed to be waiting for something.

The bridge officers, Admiral Makaryk included, who had no idea what was going on.

The two Councillors, Jorrus and Melisha, who had some idea of what was going on.

Colonel Allaire gave Supreme Councillor Jorrus his infamous glare of doom. His voice came out in quite the icy tone, and had he been glaring at a fresh-boot recruit instead of the leader of the Huntaerian Alliance, he would have had someone running away from him right then and there. "We, along with Lieutenant Rustovskii..." Colonel Allaire motioned to the engineer... "were investigating the Andromeda's power problems. Lieutenant Rustovskii found an overturned bottle of liquor leaking in a capacitor in the Jeffery's Tubes."

He drew a breath. The bridge crew suddenly became dead silent, in shock, as the Colonel's report was overheard. "I wish to charge General Verneal with reckless endangerment of the ship and her crew, as drinking while performing maintenance, and leaving the liquor inside electrical equipment, is the most dangerous thing I've ever heard of. It is stupidity that exceeds that of all but the worst of recruits."

"It is the Woodian tradition that those, even superior officers, who pull those stunts face a Trial of Position against any party wishing to condemn such conduct."

The bridge crew gasped. None had ever seen such a Trial between a Colonel and a General.

"I therefore challenge General Verneal to face such a Trial of Position. Conditions: The same procedure undertaken in a Trial of Refusal will be used to determine sides. There are three people above his rank here, one Woodian, two of the Alliance; they vote as a panel of judges. Admiral Makaryk is excluded because his rank is considered equal to, not greater than, the General. If two vote for your absolution, majority rules and the Trial of Position is annulled and does not occur. If two vote against him, you bid what you will use in the duel and you face two to one odds. If all three vote against you, you bid what you will use in the duel and you faces three to one odds. Venue: Bridge of the EWS Numenor. A Circle of Equals will be drawn here and combatants must stay within that area or be disqualified. Weapons: Defender bids." The Colonel's voice carried an icy tone that resembled a human-voiced assassin droid...

Melisha sighed and shook her head, Jorrus was slightly sympathetic to Verneal, as he looked to the left at Melisha, Verneal's major source of stress. He wouldn't be surprised if she was half the reason he went back to drinking. Women have that affect on men sometimes. However, he was the ultimate superior over Verneal and it was his duty to see how he will pay up. However... If he knew Verneal correctly...

"Colonel Keith, if it 'tis true what you say, and apparently it is, it is up to me to decide Verneal's fate as the Supreme Councilor not a foreigner who has no ruling over the alliance. Even Daniel Masaki and his people's traditions have no ruling over us."

Verneal sighed with relief, Jorrus, you rock he thought to himself.

"So that being said, under the decision of the present Malkir Council I, Supreme Councilor Jorrus, have decided upon this: Major General Verneal, it is rather foolish and indeed completely dangerous and is by far one of the oddest accounts any Superior Officer in the History of the Huntarian History, even in the Empire. Therefor, you have two options of sentence. First, you will be forced into community service for at the minimum of six months, meaning you have to teach classes." Verneal's jaw dropped. There was no way in hell he was going to start teaching again. He can't handle himself at times, "the other, would be to accept Colonel Allaire's challenge to combat and accept the decision of the Jury being myself, Melisha, and Prime Minister Whitfield. What say you to that?"

Verneal didn't have much choice. He refuses to teach a class of kids. Not to mention he wouldn't know where to begin for a class topic. So, "I accept the Colonel's challenge."

Jorrus nodded, Melisha smiled with joy, "so, let us begin the Judging. Melisha, how vote you?"

"Guilty."

"I myself sympathize with the General. However," Jorrus darted his eyes at Melisha who quickly stopped smiling, "let it be known to this panel that I think I know where half of the reason why you drink comes from. And I'll be having a very long talk to the cause," his eyes narrowed at Melisha, and she looked away from Jorrus, "Prime Minister Whitfield? How do you vote?"

OOC: Jorrus was a bit ambiguous, having never directly cast a vote. I assume that from the choice he gave Verneal, he implied a guilty vote, but it was never explicitly said. If this is not the case, let me know and consider "three to one" in the post below edited to "two to one."

--------------------------

The Colonel remained quiet, having the discipline to not respond to the Councillor's snipe.

It was Whitfield who replied to it, via telepathy. Supreme Councillor Jorrus, it was a challenge, not an order. It can be refused. It just would've made him look bad and shamed him in front of the entire bridge crew, that's all, because it is seen as a refusal to defend your honor to decline such a challenge. But you have given him his choice, and he would rather accept the challenge, it appears.

Publicly, he replied, "I saw the evidence with my own eyes. I vote against General Verneal."

The Colonel glared at the General coldly. "Bid what you will use in the duel. You face two to one odds." His voice had that assassin droid tone to it again... "This is an honor duel. You must bid all weapons that you will use. If you use a weapon that was not bid, you forfeit the duel and the entire bridge crew may honorably join in and kick your ass."

Verneal nodded. He understood the rules quite perfectly, "understandable... Though lemme point it out that you only made it a draw against me last time because I was drunk... I shall choose my command armor, more commonly known in the universe as the Tactical Dreadnaught Armor or Terminator Armor. I will be using a pair of Power Claws. I should also note that my command armor also has a built in stormbolter and a flame thrower. I won't be using many force powers, except for probably push and pull. And you?" He turned his head to Melisha.

"I shall use my robes, Lightsaber, and whatever form of the Force I choose."

"Keith?"

"I bid for use in this duel my Tactical Command Armor. It is equipped with a 'Mech-grade small pulse laser, a Streak Short-Range Missile-2 Pack, a flamethrower, a more portable version of the same neural interface used in BattleMechs, and active shielding. Insofar as Force powers are concerned, I reserve the right to use Force Push, Pull, Speed, Absorb, and the thermokinetic powers that Master Whitfield has instructed me in. Which include cooling and heating abilities."

Jorrus nodded, "very well. We shall reconvene in two hours to give us time to transport to get ready. Verneal... I do suggest you hurry it up." Moments later, Verneal was transported back to the Alliance's base where he got himself suited up in his golden Tactical Dreadnought Armor and found his pair of lightning claws. He looked at them for a few brief moments, getting used to wearing them again for it has been a small while since he last wore them. He usually went with power fists or swords. He sighed to himself and got ready to be re-transported back to the bridge of the Numenor.

Two hours!? Dammit, teh bureaucracy... Colonel Allaire was in a hurry...he could be ready in a half hour.

It probably helped that his quarters were only a hundred fifty meters or so below, at the base of the Numenor's conning tower. He quickly checked his Tactical Command Armor to make sure it had ammunition for its SRM-2, then changed into the thing. Unlike Verneal's armor, his only weighed about 120 pounds or so, and it was designed to help its wearer *move* just as much as it was designed to protect him.

The Colonel activated his neural interface, somewhere within his helmet, that allowed him to control each of the suit's functions, from weapons firing to oxygen filtration, with a single thought. For that matter, whenever he started to move, the thing 'read' his movement, and the suit moved in perfect harmony with him, utilizing myomer fibers built into the armor, some of the same technology used for the locomotion of BattleMechs. Indeed, this neural interface was practically identical to BattleMech technology...this suit had been largely reverse-engineered from them, shielding excepted.

Speaking of which, the Colonel activated the shield. He fired two shots of his pulse laser at the durasteel wall, at least a meter thick if not two, just for the hell of it and to make sure of his function.

When he made his way back to the bridge, other crew either stared at him or backed away from him, having never seen this battle armor before...jet black it was, with armored spikes protruding from the arms, so that the quickest of swats could inflict harm well beyond pain. The thing made Colonel Allaire taller, but only just, raising his height to about 6'7" which meant that he would be about the same height as regular Huntaerian troops in this suit. Even walking to the bridge at normal speed, it still took him about half the time it had taken him to go from the bridge to his quarters due to the speed-enhancing effects of the suit.

The tall, black figure arrived on the bridge well before Verneal, the Circle of Equals boundaries having already been marked in red. Some of the bridge crew stared as he waited, as the sight of this uniform was a rare one indeed.

Until he told them to stop staring and get back to work, at which point they scurried to do their business, really not wanting to piss him off.

Unlike Verneal, Melisha was already to fight and spent most of the time meditating in the location where the battle was to take place. She meditated most of the time, at least until Keith came back into the room in his battle armor. His suit attracted her attention due to it's... Shininess. Melisha was oddly attracted to things which shinned brightly, probably due to her odd powers of affecting light in different ways.

Meanwhile, Verneal sighed as he looked at his Tactical Dreadnought Armor Suit (better known as Terminator Armor). It was a while since he last put it on, at least since the second Phantom Wars, when he signed on as the general of the Huntarian Alliance. He was surprised at the condition it was in. Not a sign of any bullet holes, despite all of the wars he was in. While he doesn't seem to care too much about his battle wounds he gets on his body, he seems to take the liking to take care of his suits. Verneal slapped the armor onto him tightly, making sure there weren't any joint problems with his armor before he got up to leave for the upcoming fight. He then quickly ran to the nearby shuttle bay, and got himself transported to the bridge of the Numenor. When he arrived at the bridge, he looked at his watch 1hr and 30 minutes. Good timing. "Right, so lets get this over with."

Unlike Verneal, Melisha was already to fight and spent most of the time meditating in the location where the battle was to take place. She meditated most of the time, at least until Keith came back into the room in his battle armor. His suit attracted her attention due to it's... Shininess. Melisha was oddly attracted to things which shinned brightly, probably due to her odd powers of affecting light in different ways.

Unfortunately, Melisha's fixation was manifestly obvious to the Colonel. Except he had no clue what exactly about him made her so fixated on him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" the Colonel asked. "I sure as hell hope you aren't so easily distracted during the duel."

Meanwhile, Verneal sighed as he looked at his Tactical Dreadnought Armor Suit (better known as Terminator Armor). It was a while since he last put it on, at least since the second Phantom Wars, when he signed on as the general of the Huntarian Alliance. He was surprised at the condition it was in. Not a sign of any bullet holes, despite all of the wars he was in. While he doesn't seem to care too much about his battle wounds he gets on his body, he seems to take the liking to take care of his suits. Verneal slapped the armor onto him tightly, making sure there weren't any joint problems with his armor before he got up to leave for the upcoming fight. He then quickly ran to the nearby shuttle bay, and got himself transported to the bridge of the Numenor. When he arrived at the bridge, he looked at his watch 1hr and 30 minutes. Good timing. "Right, so lets get this over with."

As Colonel Allaire saw his adversary materialize not far from him, he took a second or so to run systems checks on his own armor. The nice thing about the included neurohelmet was once the thing was on, practically anything could be done with nary a thought. Diagnostics included. The MMI (Mind-Machine Interface, but no one in the military uses anything but the acronym) was quite capable of reading his mind, and Keith's mind and the machinery of the suit thus functioned as a very highly efficient symbiote.

In fact, in light of Keith's Force-training, it could get too efficient. Learning to use the Force has this little tendency to alter the mind of the user, especially as a padawan, which could be likened to an adolescent in the ways of the Force, with all the growth spurts and growing pains that go along with it. This meant that Keith had had to get this thing recalibrated to his changing mind at least once a month--sometimes as often as every three weeks--to account for his own mental shifts. Otherwise, were these adjustments to be neglected, Keith could throw a punch and find his own arm socket dislocated because he threw it too fast.

But that was a hypothetical possibility, if the Colonel did not pay attention to maintenance. Being a Woodian, naturally he would not suffer this to occur; he always made sure his MMI was finely in tune with his mind; while he did not use his tactical command armor much, as a MechWarrior he knew the importance of paying attention to the required adjustments of any neural interface.

He stood up at full height, glared at the General, though the General would've been unable to see the glare through Keith's dark visor. His armor left him just about half a foot shorter than Verneal, but the Colonel did not care about such things. He eyed the General's own suit, seeking to locate his weapons, but it was quite clear that he would keep them hidden until they were deployed.

Ditto for Keith.

The bridge crew gathered around the demarcated Circle of Equals to watch as the combatants stepped in. For some reason the bridge remained dead silent.

Until Prime Minister Whitfield cut the silence with but a single word. "Begin."

It didn't take Melisha long before she activated her lightsaber. The bright white blade hissed as it was activated and she was the first to strike. A mistake especially when fighting against a guy with Lightning claws. Verneal blocked the lightsaber with one hand, violently thrusting her towards the edge of the circle. Melisha quickly reacted to the unfortunate turn of events for her and got herself up just before Verneal could pin her down with his claws. Melisha backed off for a few quick seconds to catch her breath and tried to look into the Generals eyes, only to be met by glaring blood red eye pieces. Verneal then looked over towards Keith, waiting for him to strike right after Melisha lowers her charging lightsaber.

The Colonel stood, evaluating Melisha's attack. Unfortunately, she had compromised her position before Keith could really take advantage of it.

Not wanting to subject himself to the Lightning Claw whilst Verneal was relatively undistracted by Melisha, he decided to fight from range. Time to flesh out his hidden weapons...

He took about a quarter second to prepare himself mentally for the use of Force powers that might be needed to counter Verneal's flamethrower. Any other ranged weapon in Verneal's suit (at least those that Verneal had bid to use), his personal shielding could absorb. He simply looked at his adversary for about two seconds, not seeming to do anything. Keith considered it by far the most expendable of his weapons systems.

But he had obtained the necessary lock on target. A small missile launcher revealed itself at the thigh, fired two missiles, and retracted back into the protection of the Colonel's armor as quickly as it had sprung out. The missiles would not have fired if not for 100% lock...Streak SRMs did not fire unless guaranteed to hit.

Granted, Streak SRMs did not account for Force powers, either...

Verneal wasn't genetically engineered for nothing. His heightened senses, especially while his body is in "fight or flight" mode was heightened severely. While he was technically distracted by Melisha, his senses were always alert in battle. He recognized the sound of missile fire, and prepared himself to doge it just as soon as Melisha attempted to swing her lightsaber at his neck while she charged. In a defensive maneuver, Verneal quickly and abruptly moved aside from Melisha's charging path and violently threw a punch into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. Verneal had just enough time to dodge the missile speeding towards him before it actually hit him. However, the missile was locked onto the General. While it did go straight onwards in it's path, it swerved around again. The General's eyes widened, slightly surprised that the missile came back around. Damn it, a form of heat seeking... No matter... As per Empire training and further requirements from the Alliance, Verneal received semi-advanced force training to "push" objects off course such as bullets and medium/small sized missiles. Verneal then threw a hand in front of him and used the force to push the missile off course.

OOC: As per MSN discussion.

Dammit, Keith thought as Verneal used telepathy to knock the missile off course. The two missiles, sensing an unplanned course deviation and thinking they had been hacked, disarmed and skittered harmlessly across the bridge floor.

Not completely sure he's a fully trained Knight...let me try some more spam. Keith wanted to more fully ascertain Verneal's capabilities before attacking in full force. And he turned his thoughts toward obtaining missile lock on Verneal once again...

A couple of seconds later, more missiles fired. But the launcher continued firing for about four and a half seconds, rather than simply launching two missiles as it had done before. Round after round until it stopped...

Now, instead of two guided missiles hunting him, General Verneal had to deal with eighteen...

Verneal quickly glanced behind his shoulder to see... MORE MISSILES? Damn it to hell. He then quickly turned his head to find that Melisha took advantage of his momentary distraction, and sliced her blue blade at his arms. Luckily for Verneal, she wasn't that strong and didn't cut the blade all the way through his armor. Verneal had enough time to react and push her blade away with one of his claws, and used the other to swipe at one of her arms as she fell off balance, drawing blood. Melisha screamed as she was painfully cut, cradling her arm. It's been a while since she's felt a battle wound, even longer since she was harmed by something non-lightsaber.

Verneal grinned, he knew as well as Melisha did that she was no match for his prowess. However, there was something which Verneal had slightly over looked. The fact that there were 18 missiles coming his way, and he had to do something about it. Every second he wasted was a second the missiles loomed towards him. While the 18 would probably not destroy his armor out right, he'd definitely get a concussion from the force of 18 missiles. And the other fact that he didn't know how many more missiles Keith had stored in his magazine. Verneal quickly blocked another one of Melisha's, devising a plan as he continuously blocked Melisha's srikes.

He came up with something, as Melisha yet again struck another swing at his armor (this time at his foot). He struck her unguarded leg as he rolled in an offensive dodge behind her. Now a few feet behind Melisha, she swerved herself to swing her blade at Verneal which he easily predicted. He just dodged the blade bending backward, and then pointed a finger behind her, "hey Councilor, you got incoming."

She turned her head around and saw the missiles charging at her, which were really charging at Verneal. With very little time and room to maneuver out of the way without getting herself hit as well as Verneal, she was forced to use her much stronger push power (known as Force Wave) on the missiles.

Keith was not happy that Verneal managed to turn his own weapon against him. Melisha, the missiles go around obstacles. Don't f*ck with them again or I *might* just join Verneal!

He then fired his *last* sixteen missiles, after locking onto Verneal AGAIN, none too happy about Melisha's interference. Of course, Verneal didn't have to *know* that they were his last sixteen. The sixteen missiles swarmed in towards the General, arcing around Melisha as they went...

Verneal glared at Keith when the next bunch of missiles came out. Damn it... Veneal was once again struck by Melisha at his shoulder, this time her blade actually managed to touch his skin. "GAAAAA!" Verneal lashed his claws out in a blinding fury at Melisha, knocking her totally off balance. Verneal used this opportunity to force push the multiple missiles coming at him, but not all of them went down as he wasn't fully trained. Verneal grumbled to himself and his stormbolter popped out of it's hiding position on his right wrist. He shot the rest of the missiles down, forgetting about the fact that he just gave one of his hidden weapons away.

As quickly as the stormbolter revealed itself, Keith moved to snipe it. With nary a thought, blue pulse laser fire snapped out of his right forearm, aimed precisely for the stormbolter. This kind of situation was exactly the kind of situation in which the symbiosis between man and neurohelmet could be so dangerous.

Unfortunately, Keith had noticed Melisha's declining condition, and knew he had to distract Verneal long enough to recover. Dammit, she can't even take a minor fucking cut without screaming...

Verneal growled at the destruction of his stormbolter, and began to charge at Keith. He wasn't ready to reveal the location of his flamer just yet, though he had that small nagging feeling in the back of his head that it wasn't going to do much harm to Keith. But it just might do something to Melisha... After he deals with Keith. Verneal leaped at Keith, and swung his claws into the Colonel's general direction...

Ohshiii...

The Colonel saw one pissed-off General charging him. His true advantage, however, had yet to be revealed. Since the fight had started, Keith had fought at range, in order to pick of Verneal's weapons--most importantly the stormbolter. Mission accomplished.

Now it was time for the melee fight, at least if Verneal had his way. But he had an idea...

The moment Verneal looked up from Melisha and his destroyed weapon, Keith took three quick steps back, putting him within a yard of the Circle of Equal's red boundary line. Right before Verneal's fists (and associated armored claws) flew, he jumped straight up, using a combination his powered armor's speed and strength boosting abilities to get the sheer power needed to get up there, and Force Speed to do it quickly enough to get the hell out of the way of the incoming.

The bridge crew observing the duel gasped as the armored spikes on Keith's left arm tore into the durasteel ceiling twenty feet up, enough to allow his entire bodyweight to hang from said ceiling without him falling back to the floor. He took potshots at Verneal's Lightning Claw with his right-arm-mounted pulse laser, aware that he probably would be unable to destroy it but at least hoping to deform it into more of a blunt weapon, as Verneal passed underneath him, missing with his blows.

Murmurs of "Ohhhhh shit" and the like could be heard from outside the Circle as many in the bridge crew observed the true abilities of the rumored Woodian powered armor project for the first time...

OOC: Been three weeks, Huntaer.

OOC: Almost 9 months more like.

IC:
Verneal had to think quickly if he's not to get disqualified for leaving the Circle's outer edges. Melisha however, used this moment to catch up to where Verneal was and rushed at him with a force jump. Verneal quickly glanced downwards and saw that Melisha was right on top of him. If he didn't do something fast at this point, she could easily end up landing on his face.

Screw it. Verneal slammed his claws into the Bride's deck, giving it a new scratch style decor, and used his muscular strength to pull his claws in a motion to help him stop. Pulling himself up and over his arms he threw himself up into the air just in time to kick Melisha in the stomach, sending her clear across the bridge. She landed with a loud "OMF," getting the wind knocked out of her so badly that it'd take a while for her to get ready again even for a Force Wielder. Verneal landed on his feet and then jumped into the air, jamming his claws into the bridge's ceiling so that he can walk across like a monkey. Luckily for him, he was close enough to use his built in flamer for it to be effective. He flipped it up and a bright ray of flames charged at Keith. Keeping what happened to his storm bolter in mind, he made sure that his flamer would quickly retract back into it's original position every time he fired it so that the Colonel doesn't get as easy of a chance to take another snipe at his weapons again.

Verneal had one slight problem. Though the Colonel was not yet a Knight, he was in formal training to become one. Far enough along in training to have his moments, even. And training under the thermokinetic Master Whitfield meant that he was already well-versed in anti-Flamer tactics.

Even had he not met the flames with a Force-assisted wall of supercooled air, creating an interesting spectacle of boiling water from the bridge's humidity in the process, the Elemental suit would have easily absorbed most of the heat with its active shielding. But Keith wanted to save the shield for other threats, like, perhaps, helping to absorb kinetic blows.

Still hanging from the ceiling, out of Verneal's physical reach, he also made a mental note of the operation of Verneal's flamer, specifically, tracing its fuel source from the flames that Verneal fired in a vain attempt to harm him. Colonel Allaire was pretty sure he could give the General a nice internal fuel explosion.

Taking advantage of the little bit of oxygen that had snuck inside the flamer in the second or so between the time it had stopped firing at him and the time it retracted, Colonel Allaire focused his attention on ignition...

OOC: Per MSN between me and EWT

Verneal grumbled and cursed in ancient Huntarian at Keith's force move. However, the Colonel left one vital part open: He was hanging from a ceiling. Verneal took the ever so slight damage from the suit as a grave insult. On the other hand, this will enable him to complete those upgrades he's been constantly begging Jorrus to complete. Verneal shook the wrist which was just shot and thrust it forward at the Colonel, creating a very large and angry Force Push at Keith. After he did so, he let go of his grip and landed downwards towards the floor... "Lets try some rudimentary juggling..."

However, unfortunately for Verneal, Force Push had a counter, and such was called Force Absorb, which Keith was moderately proficient in. He didn't get all of it, but he got enough of it to blunt its effect, and he skittered somewhat along the ceiling, leaving a bit of a scratch mark. Fortunately, those spikes which attached him to the ceiling were made of 'Mech grade materials, which were quite stronger than durasteel, so Keith got out of that with little if any damage. And Verneal still hadn't pried Keith off. Meanwhile, Keith realized that Force powers were Verneal's only ranged weapon left and, as he still had most of *his* ranged weapons, decided to spend the rest of the duel at long range insofar as possible. Given his training was a bit ahead of Verneal's own training, he knew he was probably better at Force Speed and could leverage that on top of the extra mobility his neurohelmet-equipped suit afforded him Staying at range should not pose much of a problem if Keith was careful. Meanwhile, several pulse laser shots lashed out at Verneal's eyes. Though they'd no doubt be absorbed by the helmet visor no problem, Keith nonetheless hoped to blind or disorient him.

Luckily for Verneal, Terminator suits were made for the soldiers to be able to stare into a nuclear blast and keep going (it's arguable wether or not they'd actually survive it though...). He looked up at Keith and saw him fire his pulse lasers. He glared, and used a massive Force Pull in attempt to bring Keith down from the ceiling towards the floor. Sure, is suit may be strong, but it will eventually have to fall off and land somewhere. Melisha at this time slowly started to breath again in steady breaths and attempted to pull herself up from the floor...

Meanwhile, Keith used Force Absorb to dispense with as much of the Pull as he could. Seeking distractions, he fired and held his own Flamer at Verneal (which, thanks to the neurohelmet's capabilities, only required about the same degree of concentration as glancing at a wristwatch). Meanwhile, Keith started to skid across the ceiling, albeit very slowly, his 'Mech-grade spikes making loud grating noises as they provided massive leverage to help Keith resist the Pull. Unfortunately, his arm could only be stretched so far...

Melisha grunted with pain as she pulled herself up from the floor. Being punched by a guy in terminator armor isn't pretty. She slowly looked up at the ceiling and saw Keith there, about to fall despite the flames he flung at Verneal which probably made the armor a shade darker or so in color. She took this opportunity to use the last bit of her strength to throw the General off balance as he dodged the flames, pushing him clear out of the Circle's Rings. She sneered at him, "well well well, you drunken bastard. Looks like we got the better of you."

Verneal growled, "Hey! It's been a while since I've been in any combat... And you call yourself a Malkir with that sneer of yours."

"Better than being a drunk General who just got his ass kicked. Speaking of which, Keith, what's the punishment?"

In reply, Keith voluntarily jumped down from his perch on the ceiling after Verneal was defeated. Fortunately, his helmet and visor obscured the grin on his face. Keith knew from paying attention to stray comments what Verneal truly hated... "Your punishment for leaving spilled booze all over damn sensitive equipment shall consist of five hundred hours community service, teaching young children that operating heavy machinery and alcohol do not mix."

Verneal growled, "you god damned son of a bitch...!"

"Say, how about he also serves cocktails on the bridge wearing a bikini and bra?" Melisha prodded.

Verneal glared, "I'd sooner do that than teach a classroom full of mini-assholes..."

"How about both?" Keith wryly suggested.

Melisha grinned wickedly, "naah, that's too cruel. Besides, can't have that in front of the children...unless we incorporated that into his 500 hours of service. Which case, he'll be serving drinks in said attire instead of conjuring up battle plans."

"Make it 1000 total. Five hundred on each task."

Verneal was filled with rage, "TWENTY FUCKING DAYS IN A BIKINI SUIT! ARE YOU INSANE MAN!?"

"And twenty more days teaching too!" Melisha reminded him.

"No. You are the one who decided to drink and risk hundreds of billions in Alliance equipment that the Alliance could ill afford to replace. Not to mention you fought a Trial over it, and lost. Stop complaining, or I will add on to it," Keith glared at him; he was in no mood to suffer arguments at the moment.

"Fine, fine..."

"Good. It would be a shame if next time, *I* bid a lightsaber to use against your shiny armor. Unlike Melisha, I actually know how to use one. So there better not *be* a next time, quiaff?"

Melisha glared at him, "fuck off! I'm a teacher, not a fighter."

So goes the punishment. As the team debarked to continue the construction process, Melisha returned to her quarters grinning. She ran into the young trouble makers she was forced to teach, however, instead of finding something to pin them with, she greeted them with glee. "Greeting Jukassa and Heruka!"

"Hello Councilor. How did the trials go?"

"Pretty much as predicted. He's serving time teaching as well as another embarassing chore."

The kids grinned, "sweet, can't wait to see him in his girl costume!" Heruka replied. "They don't suspect anything do they?"

Melisha smiled slyly, " 'course not. This is between me and my bottle." She slowly showed them the small bottle of Whiskey which looked very similar to the one they found on the ship." They'll never actually figure out the real reason why that bottle was there, she was sure of that. "Now go run along kids. Oh, and while I'm away when the General's teaching, please don't do anything to him you wouldn't do to me mmk?"

The kids grinned as though Christmas came early, "Course not! Wouldn't dream of it!"

She bid them good day and continued to her quarters and lied down on her bed to close her eyes. Maybe I'll pull another one again sometime... She thought to herself, next time he tries to pull a rank on me, he'll find a good cabinets worth of bottles in ships's Jeffery's tubes.