NationStates Jolt Archive

Suddenly, the Star Destroyers learned too late that they weren't dealing with a bog-standard slightly-more-powerful-than-they-but-still-beatable-with-numbers Coredian Star Destroyer, but something else entirely. The superheated plasma burned through the shields and smashed right onto the bridge windows, which while designed to handle turbolaser bolts and the odd asteroid, weren't speced to handle this and promptly disintegrated, killing the entire bridge crew. The Star Destroyer began to drift as navigation was cut off. It will take some time for the secondary bridge to come online. In the meantime, though weakened, the turbolasers still fired independently of the bridge, and the other two Star Destroyers began to make what evasive actions they could make, but they were furious and wanted revenge...

As for the fighters: it was bad enough that the Immortal-class Star Destroyer has enough hangar space to match the enemy TIEs number for number, but between Keith's Battle Meditation and the Twins' fighter pilot skills, it became nothing more than a duck hunt. No TIE would survive this battle...

"Point Star Destroyer's battle effectiveness has decreased by approximately sixty-two percent, Admiral," one of the bridge officers noted as the fire from the point Star Destroyer diminished significantly. Now, rather than a slow depletion, the shield attained full equillibrium between reactor power and enemy weapons fire bleed. The sudden lack of coordination definitely helped; if enemy fire dropped further, the shield would actually start regenerating, given enough reactor power apportioned to it.

"Aff," Admiral Makaryk acknowledged. "Prepare another such shot out of PPC designated Number Twelve. Target within two meters of its bridge as well. After the second bridge is disposed of, target the third bridge to within two meters. After all three of the Star Destroyers are flailing about, we mop them up with ion cannons and capture them." The Admiral knew that eventually secondary bridges would come online, but he figured he would be able to destroy at least two, if not three, enemy bridges before that happened.

"Aff, Admiral." The bridge crew acknowledged the orders, while they charged up another shot. Meanwhile, Colonel Allaire was no slouch in his starfighter, either; even though the Masaki twins were doing it faster, Keith was still racking up plenty of enemy kills on his own scoreboard. Besides, he had the minds of about twenty-five thousand crew to focus...

For a minute and twenty seconds after the first shot, the Union looked like she was letting her starfighters do all the fighting, even as her shields absorbed the enemy turbolasers. But appearances were deceiving, for then another thick battery-slagging blue bolt of doom lashed out for the second Star Destroyer's bridge, the aim of its gunners assisted by Knight Allaire's Battle Meditation again...

Another Star Destroyer bridge torn open and another Star Destroyer drifts off into the darkness. The third one suddenly realized that it was about to lose the battle and began running for it, accelerating for a hyperspace jump.

Meanwhile, the first one managed to restore navigation and command authority and its backup captain decided to try and copy the Woodian super-charge attack by charging up his most powerful batteries and letting lose with explosive blasts of green destruction upon the enemy Star Destroyer.

By the time of the second Star Destroyer hit, three-quarters of the TIEs were downed and the rest, deciding their loyalty to the Empire was more important than their own lives, began ramming attacks upon the Immortal. If a single TIE would be able to ruin Admiral Makaryk's good day, then the battle could be salvagable...

"Let the coward captain run," Admiral Makaryk ordered, as fewer, but more powerful, shots splattered across the Union's shield. "Dump all weapons power into ion cannons and target its shield generators first, then its weapons emplacements." The first Star Destroyer's attacks were a bit more effective, but with a third of the enemy firepower making a run for hyperspace and another third of it at much reduced efficiency thanks to having its bridge taken out, the difference was marginal at best. The more powerful shots of the first Star Destroyer remained insufficient to counter the dwindling firepower of the rest of the flotilla.

A firestorm of angry orange lashed out from the Union, as it belched out ion spitballs to fry the shield generators through the hole in the shield evaporated by the bridge attack, the gunners' aim made more precise by Knight Allaire's Battle Meditation. And as soon as the sensors showed the enemy shields were 100% fried, the ire of the ion cannons turned to every weapons emplacement on the marginally functional enemy Star Destroyer that had line of fire on the Union.

Meanwhile, Colonel Allaire resisted the urge to facepalm at the stupidity of the TIE pilots. They had just turned their backs to the raging hordes of Woodian starfighters, and if the starfighter combat was a skeet shoot before, now it was even more so! Aided by Battle Meditation, the X-wings went after the exposed TIEs immediately, like ravenous Coredian Senators with a briefcase full of cash dangled in front of their faces. Colonel Allaire wasted no time in coordinating the allied firepower for maximum efficiency, and those TIEs that did manage to get through splattered relatively harmlessly on the Union's shield, their pebble-sized debris skittering off of her thick armor like birdshot fired at the belt armor of a battleship.

The Star Destroyer ran for it with his tail between his legs, but gained some information about the first Star Destroyer powering up his heavies and shooting the Immortal. Perhaps that information would be enough for the captain to keep his head.

Meanwhile, its brethren didn't fare too well when the ion cannons attacked, shutting down all instruments and systems. Now they were sitting ducks and ripe for invasion by the Woodians.

As for the fighters, they all died. Horribly. Through useless crashes and the fighters picking them off, they ended their lives, believing in the folly of the Empire's might...

(OOC: Clarified fate of the second ISD with CW.)

Thus did the cowardly third Star Destroyer escape Admiral Makaryk's wrath...for now. As for the fate of the second Star Destroyer, the Admiral ordered a deep scan to make sure it was dead, as it did not appear to be doing anything whatsoever. Sure enough, it had been thoroughly pwned by its hit to the bridge; as it was an older model, it had no secondary. It drifted, no navigation, no coordination, no command and control whatsoever. As for the first Star Destroyer, the one that had tried to fight back after getting slapped down...

Admiral Makaryk was in no mood to go through the bloodiness of a boarding operation, though his subordinates would have loved it. Rather, he ordered the ship be bombarded with ion cannon even until the life support failed, unless her crew surrendered unconditionally, in which case he would take POWs. Clearly, the Admiral wished to take the ship as isorla (war plunder) with little or no mess, and boarding would have been too messy. Even if the enemy crew thought they stood a chance of outwaiting the Woodians as they drifted, the option of explosive decompression was always available to Admiral Makaryk, and the blast doors that would normally seal off decompressed areas would be too damn fried to budge...

There was still the matter of communicating this to the enemy crew. Admiral Makaryk thus hailed Colonel Allaire's X-wing directly. "Colonel Allaire, you can use the Force to mass-communicate, quiaff?"

"Aff," Keith replied over his comm.

"Good, then. Relay instructions to surrender, because I do not wish to risk shock troops when I could just fry and decompress the ship instead with zero Woodian casualties."

"Aff," Keith replied. Each crewmember on the compromised Star Destroyer thus received a Voice in his Head to surrender. Rather than sound like a Sith about it, and guarantee merciless death otherwise, Keith had such Voices in Heads politely point out that the ship could easily have its atmosphere sucked out. Keith waited for the response through the Force, as he would be able to sense the collective emotions of the crew. He focused on the ship's auxiliary captain...

Fortunately for their health, the crew of both ships decided to surrender. It turns out that they weren't that fanatical, just frightened to death of the Empress, after all and perhaps there was hope for the Tenetians. Of course, this probably meant that their families were forfeit, but there was nothing that could be done about that. That's just the way it is in the Empire.

"Admiral Makaryk, the crews of both Star Destroyers have surrendered," Colonel Allaire's voice filled the open comm channels. "Advise that the second Star Destroyer's hyperdrive will still be functional, but its nav computer will not be. Therefore, advise that said Star Destroyer's hyperdrive be slaved to an astromech droid. A direct ship-to-ship slave would compromise our systems, but an astromech could sequester data as required. The first Star Destroyer, the one fried by the ion cannons, should be towed conventionally."

"I agree," the Admiral replied. "Lower the shields enough for the fighters to recall, and tow the fully disabled ship." Then, he went to transmit a little broadcast over the secondary ship's PA system.

"Deep scans indicate that everything outside of the bridge of your ship is functional. This includes the hyperdrive, but not navcomputer. I am sending an astromech droid, programmed with my orders, to calculate your hyperroute out of here. Do not touch, or in any way tamper with, or alter the programming of, said droid or I will ensure that the Union's weapons are used for your quick and speedy execution."

Meanwhile, tractor beams worked on the other ship, the one that even had its PA fried...

The second Star Destroyer compiled with the order, allowing the astromech to go about its business without harrassment. The first Star Destroyer had its PA fried, but it too was compliant.

All was in order so far.

Admiral Makaryk then considered that those captured ships may very well be broadcasting their location and whatnot to the Empire, so he needed a way to find and dispose of any tracking devices before taking the ships to White Diamond, which, as far as he knew, was a system either undocumented or coordinates unknown to the Empire. He did not assume that was the case, but in the event that it was, he wanted to keep it that way. Therefore, an allied stopover point was needed.

Did not Coredia hand over Jurai to the Godulans? Admiral Makaryk thought to himself, as the fighters returned to their hangar bays and Colonel Allaire changed back into his standard battle dress uniform, putting his Elemental suit in a locker large enough to accommodate it. Admiral Makaryk decided to send a friendly little transmission to the Woodian Embassy to Godular located on Jurai.

From: Admiral Makaryk
To: Woodian Diplomatic Staff

You are to hand this document, less the first paragraph of body of text, over to the Godulan Government immediately. OPSEC forbids me from transmitting directly to the Godulan Embassy on White Diamond. Replace 'Woodian Diplomatic Staff' with 'To Whom it May Concern within the Godulan Government.'

I have been engaged with three Imperial Star Destroyers identified as originating from somewhere in the Empire. Whether Tenetian, Huntaerian, or GE I am not sure, as we do not have sufficient forces to board both of the vessels we have captured, at least not in the event of contingency of resistance. Therefore, the crews of the captured ships have been sequestered in their own ships, one of which is disabled enough that it must be towed directly, the other of which is currently having an astromech calculate its hyperroute because her bridge is out.

Obviously, OPSEC requires that these vessels be searched for tracking devices and what have you. As the Empire is already aware of Jurai's precise location and just got through with it, and Jurai has the logistical capabilities required to conduct the required searches of these ships, it is an ideal place to carry out the required search. The ideal mix of speed and thoroughness that the Kythons and spybots can offer make them especially well suited to carry out the required search, however permanent Kythonization is neither required nor desired due to OPSEC considerations.

You can expect our arrival shortly, as we will already be in hyperspace by the time you receive this; however as we do not wish to impose upon you completely uninvited, we will immediately leave and find alternate arrangements upon arrival should you wish it.

/signed

Admiral Makaryk of Evil Woody Thoughts

Meanwhile, the fully disabled Star Destroyer was brought to within two hundred meters of the Union's docking bay by tractor beam, whereupon a boom reminiscent of ancient aerial tanker refuelers lowered from said docking bay, to attach itself as a tow line. Meanwhile, the astromech rolled into the transporter room to be "beamed up" to the other Star Destroyer, whereupon it quickly plugged into a computer terminal and calculated the hyperroute to Jurai.

A few minutes later, the flotilla was on its way to Jurai...

(OOC: Godular and CW need to poke each other regarding the results of such a search, and this also happens to be Godular's cue!)

Things had changed somewhat on Jurai since the Coredians' departure from the world and the subsequent consolidation of control under Godulan rule. What once was a barren snow-covered wasteland interspersed with the occasional patches of greenery now seemed to be lost in great thunderstorms as the world raged in the throes of full scale Godulan Terraforming. The clouds and storms flashed constantly with emerald lightning, and beneath the occasional break in the clouds one could just barely make out expanding networks of glowing crystal. That such a change had come in only a few weeks was nothing short of astounding in itself, though when one considered the amount of Godulan forces present in the system now, the level of activity would be somewhat more understandable.

The system buzzed with activity as the Godulans still set about placing greater and greater levels of defensive armament throughout the sector, having expanded their list of held worlds by one. Small clouds of mines drifted through the void, asteroids sported new adornments of glowing morphic crystal, and the entire system seemed to 'reverberate' with some form of spatial disruption, the source of which was immediately apparent in the strange portal orbiting the central star and feeding exotic matter into it. A massive tentacular array of replication generators swirled lazily amidst the chaos, awaiting its next orders.

When the Woodian message arrived from their embassy (duly shielded from the greater effects of the terraforming), it was forwarded directly to General Arcturus and then General Lear. Arcturus, being the General in charge of domestic activity, was the voice that greeted the small Woodian flotilla upon its arrival, sent in a signal forwarded by a pair of Slaughterking destroyers that had taken up position to escort the Woodians further into the system.

Admiral Makaryk, we thank you for coming to us about this matter. These Destroyers will escort your fleet through the dimensional disruptions to the Replication Array where we shall conduct the investigation of the two vessels you have 'appropriated'. If necessary, we shall provide additional resources to assist in the proper control of any prisoners you have. Let us hope they do not mind rain.

If you wish to speak with us further, we would be glad to have you aboard the Replication array for a face-to-face meeting.

The two slaughterkings took up a position just ahead of the flotilla, and began to make their way towards the gargantuan network of what appeared to be clawed tentacles...

Taylor and Jacob looked out over the transparisteel windows at the former Coredian planet of Jurai. It was quite a surprise to see how much it has changed, now that the Godulans were in charge of it and currently transforming it.

"Wow. They're really changing the place. I wonder what it'll look like when they're done." Taylor said.

"Probably a crystal planet. They're even changing the sun. That takes technology waaay beyond our own." Jacob replied, drooling as he remembered the current issue of Galactic Technology Today.

"Uh, Jacob? You're drooling. Thinking about Galactic Technology again?" The magazine, that is. This month's feature article was Godulantech.

"Oh...yeah." Jacob quickly rubbed the drool away.

"Heh. Who knew you were a fan of techporn?" Taylor grinned, then ran for it as Jacob chased him around the Star Destroyer, eventually ending up on the bridge.

Ahh, twins. Nothing like them in the universe.

"I liked Jurai better when it was a frozen iceball," Colonel Allaire commented from the bridge as soon as he saw the changes the Godulans had made to the planet through the viewport. Samuel had found him again, of course, and had spent the last hour either by his side or clinging to his arm. Meanwhile, Bailey Kipper's thawed head stared out at Jurai, eerily propped up by the naginata upon which he was impaled, said naginata leaning up against the wall.

When the Woodian message arrived from their embassy (duly shielded from the greater effects of the terraforming), it was forwarded directly to General Arcturus and then General Lear. Arcturus, being the General in charge of domestic activity, was the voice that greeted the small Woodian flotilla upon its arrival, sent in a signal forwarded by a pair of Slaughterking destroyers that had taken up position to escort the Woodians further into the system.

Admiral Makaryk, we thank you for coming to us about this matter. These Destroyers will escort your fleet through the dimensional disruptions to the Replication Array where we shall conduct the investigation of the two vessels you have 'appropriated'. If necessary, we shall provide additional resources to assist in the proper control of any prisoners you have. Let us hope they do not mind rain.

If you wish to speak with us further, we would be glad to have you aboard the Replication array for a face-to-face meeting.

The two slaughterkings took up a position just ahead of the flotilla, and began to make their way towards the gargantuan network of what appeared to be clawed tentacles...

The Union followed her escorts to the Replication Array, the astromech droid stationed on the second captured Star Destroyer dutifully slaving said Star Destroyer's engines to its commands to follow. The crews on both Star Destroyers had apparently decided that pissing off Admiral Makaryk was not the best of ideas. Meanwhile, Admiral Makaryk informed the Godulans that they could take as many of the POWs as they wanted, as long as they treated them in accordance with standard conventions on the matter; the more POWs the Godulans took, the less the Woodians had to deal with on the way home. However, for the time being, the Admiral was not particularly interested in leaving his ship.

Meanwhile, as perhaps was inevitable, the Union picked up a stray news feed about the status of the Bailey Kipper Bounty, which now stood at 4,630,407,611,944 (approximately 4.63 trillion for those who lose count of digits) credits. Admiral Makaryk immediately noticed, and his eyebrow raised. "Hey, Colonel Allaire, what are you going to do with your cut of the bounty?" he asked.

Colonel Allaire facepalmed. "Ohhhhhhh, fuck..." he muttered, his voice trailing off. It was pretty obvious he didn't want the money; the notion of unearned income remained completely foreign to him, as it was to many a Woodian. After regaining his composure, he glared at Taylor Masaki. "This is all your fault. The next time you let your ego inflate to the point I have to come bail you out, I will personally cream your ass. I swear, the Jedi Council sent me because they knew this would happen..." Keith grumbled and shook his head, for he was now the very same lazy rich filth that he derided as "silver spoon trust fund babies" and whatnot. Worse, he knew that Teh Auditors would be around to enforce the collection of the bounty, whether he wanted the credits in his checking account or not.

"You do realize that the bounty grows every second that news of the Sith's demise is withheld?" Admiral Makaryk prodded the Colonel, a tongue-in-cheek look on his face.

"Oh no!" Keith frantically grabbed his weapon with Bailey's head attached and uploaded a frantic video transmission to the Godulans. "Please inform the news outlets that Bailey Kipper is dead!" Keith requested of the Godulans, holding up Bailey's head for the holocam to see. "The bounty on his head is already quite enough, the last thing I need is for it to grow more!"

Admiral Makaryk chuckled. "Colonel, I do believe I have just tricked you into something called a 'press conference.'"

Keith scowled as he cut the transmission, whereupon he glared at the Admiral. Admiral Makaryk did not back down. "You want a Trial of Grievance or something?" the Admiral asked, almost mockingly pointing to himself innocently, with a 'who, me?' look on his face.

Keith did not answer, as such a Trial would be slightly unbecoming a Jedi, but he continued to glare at the Admiral, who clearly wanted a fight. There was something about fighting Jedi...eventually Admiral Makaryk decided that his subordinate's glare was disrespectful enough for the Admiral himself to initiate such a Trial.

It was not bid; it remained unspoken. Admiral Makaryk attacked from a Hung Gar Fu stance; apparently he had either taken lessons from or watched movies of Dornalians somewhere. Keith flung the two-meter-tall Admiral over his own body with ease; the Admiral crashed into a durasteel wall, and after he got up, an outright brawl ensued. Though Admiral Makaryk was not Force-sensitive enough to be trained as a Jedi, having only a third of the required midichlorian count, he was good enough at fighting to hold his own against the Colonel, managing to snap one of his arms and land a few good kicks and punches to the face. Colonel Allaire refrained from using the Force, but managed to crunch a few of the Admiral's ribs and break his jaw. Within a few moments, the uniforms of both were a bloody mess, much to the delight of the observing Woodian bridge crew. Eight-year-old Samuel...notsomuch, though Samuel was thankfully smart enough to stay out of the way.

Finally, after they had literally beaten each other into bloody pulps, no less than two pints of blood between them splattered across the bridge, Colonel Allaire finally managed to get the upper hand and knock the Admiral out, the extra speed afforded him by the Force finally breaking the stalemate. Immediately, two medics rushed forward to treat both their Admiral and the Jedi Knight. They did not mind, either, for it had been an entertaining fight.

Within ten minutes, their broken bones had been resealed, and they had received the necessary stitches and topical bacta. The injuries really weren't worth a trip to the medbay for, and the medics restored the Admiral to consciousness and made both of them drink some water and nibble on some food, to help ameliorate the effects of blood loss from the fight. Now all they had to do was stay somewhat still for the next hour.

"Well, congratulations, Colonel, you are the first to defeat me in hand-to-hand combat in quite a while," Admiral Makaryk said, good-naturedly. Keith didn't want to think of it.

The rushed transmission, along with the somewhat interesting visual, garnered a rather amused response of horrible puns, such as "Getting a head in the world, are we not, Mister Allaire?" "Try to avoid losing your head, Mister Allaire," and "Keep your head about you, Mister Allaire." Luckily, before the pun-ishment got too far into the realm of causing nosebleeds, Arcturus broke in and confirmed that the information was now being forwarded to the Woodian news services via the Godulan Ambassador on White Diamond. When the news reached him of the actual bounty Allaire would be collecting, he could not help but raise a mental eyebrow at Allaire essentially being given the Gross National Product of a small nation for killing one particularly annoying former Jedi.

As the vessels came upon the Replication Array, two tentacles reached out, stretching towards the two captured vessels and orienting a pair of clawlike replication structures such that both of the vessels were contained in some form of giant cylindrical drydock. The respective claws around each vessel spun once, and the Godulans immediately had the position of all life signs on board both vessels. After this initial scanning, groups of prisoners began to vanish from their respective ships, all but a few eventually materializing on the surface of Jurai proper. No doubt the prisoners found the transition somewhat sudden as they unexpectedly departed their air conditioned ships for what lay beneath the clouds.

Hot. Humid. Rain. Really big trees. Eerie green light penetrating the forest. Fifteen foot tall crystal golems with very large guns yelling for them to start walking and to 'avoid touching the plums'.

Very quickly, however, the downtrodden prisoners found themselves in what might have once been a Coredian military base, but was now converted into an oddly comfortable holding area. The atmosphere within the utilitarian buildings was a nice return to dryness and some measure of acceptable temperatures. Indeed, compared to their previous accomodations on their former vessels, this place may well have seemed like a nice hotel.

Right up until they discovered what the food was. Mega-spicy Ramen noodles, nutrient wafers, and some vile concoction that the Godulans called 'Pepper Coffee'. That the place had running water was very quickly recognized as the most wonderful thing in the UNIVERSE.

Meanwhilst, up above the atmosphere, the Replication Array began its work, crafting legions of spybots to roam the ship like rats looking for cheese and also scanning the ship with progressively deeper penetrating sensors. What would take a crew of Woodians or Coredians a matter of months would likely be finished before the end of the following day... and the Godulans took pride in their timeliness.

Taylor could only grin at Keith's predicament. "Welcome to the world of the super-rich, Colonel! But be of good cheer! Now you have enough cash to be a galactic philantrophist if you wanted to."

"We're also getting a cut of the bounty, too." Jacob reminded him.

"Whaaaat?! I don't need the cash!" Taylor exclaimed. "Now those snobs at the Friday Bingo Ball will want me to join them!"

Jacob just grinned. He knew his twin liked the freedom of not having to be invited to every high-income ball and dinner to schmooze with the super-rich, considering that he snubs them all the time. In that, Taylor is more Woodian than the Clans. He himself didn't mind either way, since his wife makes more money than he does as a teacher and an alchemist with her mechanics business, specializing in prosthetics. Still, he'll pump the cash into some charity or other and he's pretty sure Taylor will want to do the same.

It was not bid; it remained unspoken. Admiral Makaryk attacked from a Hung Gar Fu stance; apparently he had either taken lessons from or watched movies of Dornalians somewhere. Keith flung the two-meter-tall Admiral over his own body with ease; the Admiral crashed into a durasteel wall, and after he got up, an outright brawl ensued. Though Admiral Makaryk was not Force-sensitive enough to be trained as a Jedi, having only a third of the required midichlorian count, he was good enough at fighting to hold his own against the Colonel, managing to snap one of his arms and land a few good kicks and punches to the face. Colonel Allaire refrained from using the Force, but managed to crunch a few of the Admiral's ribs and break his jaw. Within a few moments, the uniforms of both were a bloody mess, much to the delight of the observing Woodian bridge crew. Eight-year-old Samuel...notsomuch, though Samuel was thankfully smart enough to stay out of the way.

Finally, after they had literally beaten each other into bloody pulps, no less than two pints of blood between them splattered across the bridge, Colonel Allaire finally managed to get the upper hand and knock the Admiral out, the extra speed afforded him by the Force finally breaking the stalemate. Immediately, two medics rushed forward to treat both their Admiral and the Jedi Knight. They did not mind, either, for it had been an entertaining fight.

Within ten minutes, their broken bones had been resealed, and they had received the necessary stitches and topical bacta. The injuries really weren't worth a trip to the medbay for, and the medics restored the Admiral to consciousness and made both of them drink some water and nibble on some food, to help ameliorate the effects of blood loss from the fight. Now all they had to do was stay somewhat still for the next hour.
As for the fight itself, it was a fun diversion, complete with much popcorn munching.

"Keith's getting better." Taylor noted. "He even managed to defeat his own Admiral."

"Yeah. I'm sure that workout with Bailey helped with that." Jacob replied.

"Mmhmm. Whaddya think? Level...20?" Taylor asked. Sometimes Coredians like to assign levels to certain powerful Jedi. It's a bit of a game.

"22. Don't forget he's got naginatajutsu down pat and his thermokinesis is at level 2, like yours is. And he did beat Daniel once."

"Yeah. Good point. Though he claims that doesn't count." More munching.

"Yeah, right." Jacob snickered. "Big Brother's never, ever going to live that down again."

"Hehehe! You got that right!" Taylor grinned.

=====

The Tenetians soon found out what torture it was to eat super-hot-spicy foods and many would be found drinking lots of water just to try and get rid of the first attack. Unfortunately for them, it seems that the nuclear foods were all that were available and many began begging for something less harmful to their palates and many more, thinking it was torture, began begging to spill more Tenetian secrets, what of them they have.

Keith scowled at the various trollery of the Godulans and the Twins, though Taylor Masaki was, as usual, the worst. No matter, Keith would simply have to cream him the moment he was fully healed, though even his scowl softened a bit when Samuel re-attached himself to Keith's arm. "You must really be trying to tell me something, kid," Keith remarked, to which the boy remained silent.

Admiral Makaryk, for his part, remained quiet, simply taking in the evaluation of the Masakis.

OOC: If CW and Godular could get to RPing the search of the ships now...

Arcturus strode amongst the overgrown trees now pervading what used to be a Coredian industry hub before the exodus away from Jurai. Rain fell upon him in curtains, but it did not disturb him in the least. His body was impervious to the ravages of the weather, and he reveled in the downpour with outstretched arms, allowing himself to sense each raindrop as it struck his body and trickled down to the ground, remembering what it was like to be human so long ago. He had the sneaking suspicion that their departure from mortality was beginning to take things away from them, as the memory of mundane existence became little more than that: memories.

It was an odd thought for a Godulan to ponder, to be sure, but they could not help but dwell upon the nature of mortality when considering the amount of death that they had seen lately. The Colonies, Konoha, the Woodians... all struck a chord of lamentation within them, and they yearned to rectify the situation, to prevent such needless devastation in the future. However hopeless the goal might be, the Godulans felt that just because something would be impossible to stamp out did not give them the right to give up on trying. One threat at a time. Make each perpetrator of disaster pay for their sins in time. Never relent, never withdraw, never allow genocide to go unpunished. A hard thing to reconcile, considering their relationship with the Chronosians, but one they insisted upon nonetheless.

Arcturus was drawn from his reverie by the voice of another Avatar requesting his attention. The scanning had not even been underway for an hour and already the Godulans were drawing results.

Sir, we have detected and removed seventeen tracking devices thus far. Penetration depth is presently 2 and a half meters, which essentially puts every single one of those devices on the hull itself, as we have not yet delved within the armor plating.

We must give Miss Fiona recognition for trying very hard to know where her ships are.

Indeed. There is a remarkable variety in the devices that we have thus far uncovered. It is fortunate that we remain within the confines of the Fractalspace effect as the outgoing data is surely scrambled in every conceivable fashion before it gets to anything even remotely capable of reading it.

Keep me updated. The Woodians will require this information as well.

Eventually, a communication went out to Admiral Makaryk, requesting his presence on Jurai, along with that of anybody else that might be interested in hearing the preliminary results of the scanning. Coordinates were provided, and Arcturus simply waited, enjoying the rain.

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Meanwhilst, the Godulans were somewhat confused by the reaction they got from the Tenetian troops to the food they had been supplied with. Particularly in terms of the degree to which the supposed torture was effective.

I do not get it. We used to yum this stuff up all the time before we got those Balroggan Replicators.

Do not inform them of such. They are begging to divulge tactical information in exchange for other forms of nourishment and antacids. We shall have an accomodation.

Indeed. I hope I did not sound like I was complaining in my prior statement.

An Avatar arrived shortly at the PoW camp, carrying a very specific piece of fruit. Noting the ravenous stares of the gathered prisoners, he held it up so they could all see, then with a flick of his wrist made it vanish from their sight.

"We would like to learn about the Space-born defenses around Tenetia, along with whatever information you can provide relating to military reinforcement routes within Tenetian space. Provide us with this information, and you shall all be presented with a 'Banana'. Rich in potassium, it will help counter the highly acidic content of your present diet. Any takers?"

OOC:

So what was the final bounty on him? I lost track of it a while back.

OOC:

So what was the final bounty on him? I lost track of it a while back.

OOC:

4,630,407,611,944 (approximately 4.63 trillion for those who lose count of digits) credits.

"Well, we are already getting information from the prisoners we took off the Woodians' hands. Apparently they are not quite used to overly spicy food, which is a shame because such comprises the bulk of our standard rations. We would have thought they would be appreciative that we are looking out for their nutritional welfare so diligently, but alas they beg to provide us with information in exchange for less caustic fare. It is a shame, really. Capsacin is proven to have a great many quantifiable health benefits."
Taylor grinned. "Aww, the poor Imperials! Such a shame they don't like spicy stuff!"

Said Imperials began sneezing as they wrote down everything they knew about Tenetia's defenses including codes that would probably be changed by now. They didn't forget about the turbolaser batteries in the ring field either.

Eventually, a communication went out to Admiral Makaryk, requesting his presence on Jurai, along with that of anybody else that might be interested in hearing the preliminary results of the scanning. Coordinates were provided, and Arcturus simply waited, enjoying the rain.

Admiral Makaryk thusly received the transmission, and decided to act upon it. He glared at the Masakis on the bridge. "Stay here," he ordered them rather bluntly, not wishing to drag along a pair of spoiled-rotten crown princes, as if they really needed their share of the Bailey Kipper bounty. How much money did they embezzle from Coredian taxpayers anyway? The Admiral did not want such corrupt prima donnas in his sight, at least he could avoid it.

However, a slight predicament arose when he did order one Colonel Allaire to come with him. How to separate Samuel from him? The kid had a rather unfortunate habit of clinging to the Colonel's arm, despite the fact that said arm had quite a bit of the Admiral's drying blood splattered across it, from their earlier little fight. When traumatized kids attached themselves to a replacement parent, so to speak, it could be rather difficult to pry them off.

Much to Colonel Allaire's amusement, the Admiral physically pried young Samuel's arms off of him, and removed him from Colonel Allaire. "Do watch the Colonel's new stepson...at least I think he will be the Colonel's new stepson...while we are gone," he curtly ordered the two Masakis. "Try not to indoctrinate him too much in your Way of Corruption, either."

With that, Admiral Makaryk and Colonel Allaire left for the hangar bay, whereupon they swiped a shuttle to meet the Godulans planetside.

Saddled with another clingy Woodian eight-year-old, Taylor and Jacob Masaki wondered what to do with him. Taylor had more experience in the name of John Watsen, but he wondered about this one.

"Uh...hello." Taylor smiled to the kid. "We're your babysitters, ok?"

Arcturus patiently awaited the Woodians' arrival, allowing the rain to slide down his crystalline body and reveling in the simple sensations of the wind crossing his face. Soon, the clouds would fade, and the world would return to the temperate climate that had defined it well before the ignominious sun-eater incident, and the world would be a lush paradise girded by networks of Godulan Crystal that would ensure that nothing ever broke the balance again.

A Woodian shuttle broke through the clouds, its shields licked by the occasional bolt of lightning as it descended through the darkness and the damp. It landed without incident, as Arcturus had chosen a suitable landing spot for his encounter well in advance. He held a small datapad of sorts in one hand, and bowed slightly when the Admiral and his associate emerged from the shuttle, then expressed a look of concern when he saw their bloodspattered uniforms.

"You are injured?"

Arcturus patiently awaited the Woodians' arrival, allowing the rain to slide down his crystalline body and reveling in the simple sensations of the wind crossing his face. Soon, the clouds would fade, and the world would return to the temperate climate that had defined it well before the ignominious sun-eater incident, and the world would be a lush paradise girded by networks of Godulan Crystal that would ensure that nothing ever broke the balance again.

A Woodian shuttle broke through the clouds, its shields licked by the occasional bolt of lightning as it descended through the darkness and the damp. It landed without incident, as Arcturus had chosen a suitable landing spot for his encounter well in advance. He held a small datapad of sorts in one hand, and bowed slightly when the Admiral and his associate emerged from the shuttle, then expressed a look of concern when he saw their bloodspattered uniforms.

"You are injured?"

"Neg. Said injuries have already been treated by Woodian medics," Admiral Makaryk replied, after returning the bow. The blood that you see...as you may know, it is considered something of a badge of honor in Woodian military circles. Do not be alarmed. Now, I would assume that because you called us down here, you have some kind of a report for us?"

Colonel Allaire remained quiet.

Saddled with another clingy Woodian eight-year-old, Taylor and Jacob Masaki wondered what to do with him. Taylor had more experience in the name of John Watsen, but he wondered about this one.

"Uh...hello." Taylor smiled to the kid. "We're your babysitters, ok?"

The boy, perhaps typical of young, traumatized Woodian kids, remained quiet. His thoughts remained confused, between the fact that he had seen Taylor get captured trying to free his tormentor, and the 'fact' that he was an Embezzler of Coredian Taxpayer Funds, in accordance with his aristocratic status. Clearly, he had been raised in a family that took the standard politicians' platitudes of "public service" quite literally, a family that viewed such "public servants" such as the Masakis as entitled to no more pay than a school janitor. Samuel thus sought to ignore the two Masakis, confusing as they were, and quietly turned his back to them, sat down, and started dejectedly bouncing the ball that Keith had found for him before off the durasteel floor.

Arcturus nodded slightly then brought out the small datapad. "Our initial scanning of the hull alone yielded seventeen tracking devices that have since been removed and deactivated for further study. We have begun taking a look at interior sections of the captured vessels and... we found twelve more in their fighter bays... eighteen... twenty four... my my... there appears to be two such devices on each of the remaining TIE fighters..."

He handed the small datapad to Admiral Makaryk. "The display will update automatically as we find and neutralize further tracking devices. Thus far we believe that the devices have been incapable of transmitting anything out of the system due to our work with the inner workings of Jurai Prime. If, however, we can acquire necessary transmitting frequencies, we might be able to introduce a new element of confusion into their operations..."

The boy, perhaps typical of young, traumatized Woodian kids, remained quiet. His thoughts remained confused, between the fact that he had seen Taylor get captured trying to free his tormentor, and the 'fact' that he was an Embezzler of Coredian Taxpayer Funds, in accordance with his aristocratic status. Clearly, he had been raised in a family that took the standard politicians' platitudes of "public service" quite literally, a family that viewed such "public servants" such as the Masakis as entitled to no more pay than a school janitor. Samuel thus sought to ignore the two Masakis, confusing as they were, and quietly turned his back to them, sat down, and started dejectedly bouncing the ball that Keith had found for him before off the durasteel floor.
Taylor sighed dejectedly. He sensed that he got the same vibes off Samuel that he got off John when he was rescued. Well, he supposed he'll just watch the kid for the hour or so until Keith returns. Jacob, however, pulled a chair out of nowhere and resumed reading Alchemist's Digest, a magazine about the latest in alchemical news, leaving it up to Taylor how to deal with Samuel.

Taylor scratched his head. "You know, I have a kid about your age...name's John Watsen. He was a lot like you when he was rescued from a darksider too."

Arcturus nodded slightly then brought out the small datapad. "Our initial scanning of the hull alone yielded seventeen tracking devices that have since been removed and deactivated for further study. We have begun taking a look at interior sections of the captured vessels and... we found twelve more in their fighter bays... eighteen... twenty four... my my... there appears to be two such devices on each of the remaining TIE fighters..."

He handed the small datapad to Admiral Makaryk. "The display will update automatically as we find and neutralize further tracking devices. Thus far we believe that the devices have been incapable of transmitting anything out of the system due to our work with the inner workings of Jurai Prime. If, however, we can acquire necessary transmitting frequencies, we might be able to introduce a new element of confusion into their operations..."

"Obviously, I will want the tracking devices removed before taking these captured ships back with me to White Diamond," the Admiral replied. "I also expect to only take a skeleton crew back with me. Hell, having the two ships piloted by droids would be preferable. I want those ships crewed with loyal Woodians. As for confusing the enemy with those tracking devices..." a smile crossed the Admiral's face... "do what you wish; just do not lead the enemy to our doorstep please."


Taylor sighed dejectedly. He sensed that he got the same vibes off Samuel that he got off John when he was rescued. Well, he supposed he'll just watch the kid for the hour or so until Keith returns. Jacob, however, pulled a chair out of nowhere and resumed reading Alchemist's Digest, a magazine about the latest in alchemical news, leaving it up to Taylor how to deal with Samuel.

Taylor scratched his head. "You know, I have a kid about your age...name's John Watsen. He was a lot like you when he was rescued from a darksider too."

Samuel didn't even seem to care that Taylor was trying to talk to him. He simply scooted over such that his back faced Taylor, and continued bouncing his little ball between the durasteel floor and his hand, patiently waiting until Keith got back. However, just as Taylor sensed the kid wasn't exactly sociable, Samuel sensed the same kind of apathy from Jacob that he had towards the both of the Masakis. Just the more reason to ignore the spoiled little crown princes...

Samuel didn't even seem to care that Taylor was trying to talk to him. He simply scooted over such that his back faced Taylor, and continued bouncing his little ball between the durasteel floor and his hand, patiently waiting until Keith got back. However, just as Taylor sensed the kid wasn't exactly sociable, Samuel sensed the same kind of apathy from Jacob that he had towards the both of the Masakis. Just the more reason to ignore the spoiled little crown princes...
Taylor sighed again and sat down, leaning against the wall. He hoped that Keith would come back soon. Either that or the kid could liven up the place some. So dreary! Jacob looked over his magazine to see that the kid was still bouncing his ball before resuming his reading and turned a page.

"That much is obvious," Arcturus replied with a smirk. "But imagine the variety of doorsteps we could lead them to..."

"That much is obvious," Arcturus replied with a smirk. "But imagine the variety of doorsteps we could lead them to..."

"Indeed. I have an imagination for such things," Colonel Allaire grinned.

"I know that. I am just telling you what not to do with those tracking beacons," Admiral Makaryk replied. "You are more than welcome to various creative endeavors in luring Tenetia into traps with those things. We will simply be laughing our asses off at the Tenetians."

"You need not tell us what we should not do," Arcturus replied with an ever so slight tinge of exasperation, "Would we be allies if we did not consider the action of placing your people in harm's way as complete anathema? Perchance your recent experiences with the Coredians have had a more profound effect upon you than recognized?"

He gave a dismissive wave of his hand and turned to walk away. "We shant keep you here any longer. You have our data pad, and it will update as we progress further in our search. We are aware of your people's preference for colder climes."

"You need not tell us what we should not do," Arcturus replied with an ever so slight tinge of exasperation, "Would we be allies if we did not consider the action of placing your people in harm's way as complete anathema? Perchance your recent experiences with the Coredians have had a more profound effect upon you than recognized?"

He gave a dismissive wave of his hand and turned to walk away. "We shant keep you here any longer. You have our data pad, and it will update as we progress further in our search. We are aware of your people's preference for colder climes."

"Indeed," Colonel Allaire growled, shooting a dirty look at Admiral Makaryk that should have made it obvious to Arcturus that he was somewhat displeased with the Admiral's lack of tact. However, the thought of leaving did appeal somewhat to both Keith and the Admiral. Neither particularly cared for humid jungles, though at least Keith had the means to deal with it. The assorted wintry mix that swirled within about a three-meter bubble enveloping them vanished when they embarked on their shuttle to return to the Union.

Taylor sighed again and sat down, leaning against the wall. He hoped that Keith would come back soon. Either that or the kid could liven up the place some. So dreary! Jacob looked over his magazine to see that the kid was still bouncing his ball before resuming his reading and turned a page.

The kid obviously was in no mood to lighten up, as he maintained his dour attitude towards the situation. The one brief flash of an exception came when Taylor sensed the kid thinking about throwing the ball as hard as possible for his head in general disgust with royalty, but said thought only lasted approximately one quarter of one second before the kid decided against it on the grounds that it'd probably turn the Masakis into the Happy Bailey Kipper Family. Rebuffing any attempts on the part of Taylor to make conversation as a consequence of said thought with complete silence, Samuel kept bouncing the ball off the floor, as if patiently waiting for time to pass.

Soon enough, Keith returned, but unfortunately for the Masakis, Admiral Makaryk returned with him. The latter scowled at the sight of two lazy Masaki royal scum lounging about; the Woodian definition of babysitting was slightly more inclusive than making sure the kid didn't wander into an open airlock. That Jacob, who had his head buried in that damned magazine, did not seem to even be paying remote attention to the kid infuriated Admiral Makaryk even more. At least Taylor looked like he had tried, even if he had only made minimal effort in providing any kind of mental stimulation to the kid.

"Burn it, Colonel." Admiral Makaryk scowled at Keith, and unfortunately for Jacob, orders were orders. Jacob found his magazine flash-incinerated right out of his hands, rendered in approximately one second into little more than a pile of fine ash, some of which floated around in the air like those little dust particulates that one sees in bright sunlight. Keith made no comment.

Admiral Makaryk glared at the two Masakis. "Damned prima donna, lazy royal oafs," he scowled. "To the mess hall with you. Mop duty. Probably the first time you have had to work in your lives." He pointed to the turbolift that would take them down the conning tower, to the hallway that led to the mess hall.

Jacob squawked in outrage as the magazine burned to ashes. He looked up at the two Woodians who now arrived with an evil glare. "Oy! That was a special-issue magazine!"

For all of his protestations though, Jacob knew that he and Taylor were still guests aboard the Admiral's Star Destroyer. So his glare didn't last long and he and Taylor, both relieved to be finding something to do other than watch paint dry around a boring, dour kid like Samuel, happily...yes, happily!...headed over to the turbolifts for the mess hall. Mop duty was something they haven't done since they were apprentices and their brother made them do it from time to time, but there was something about doing simple manual labor that made even prima donna lazy royal oafs want to sing with joy.

Either that or it was just that they were bored and wanted something to do.

In the mess hall, the Twins found that those eating chow were even less sociable towards the Masakis than Samuel had been, ignoring their presence entirely. Even Samuel had at least realized they were there. The soldiers eating chow literally did not even care enough to notice, leaving the Masakis to their drudgery. Someone managed to drop a glass, the shards of which splattered all over his exposed arms when it fell and broke. The afflicted person merely shrugged and left for the medical bay to deal with any potential infection, not really caring that any Jedi with the most basic of Force healing skills would have done just fine and there were two of them mopping the place. He just left his splattered drops of blood and shards of glass for the two of them to clean up, more worried about having two credits docked from his paycheck for replacing the glass than the injury itself.

Meanwhile, on the bridge, Admiral Makaryk ordered the Union into hyperspace, bound for White Diamond, leaving the two captured Star Destroyers behind for the Godulans to purge of Tenetian espionage devices and use them to lure Tenetians into whatever traps they could devise. Unfortunately for the Masaki Twins, that would leave them in legal limbo as they had had their visas stripped by act of Parliament, and thus were forbidden from entry into Evil Woody Thoughts, meaning they most likely would not be allowed to leave the Union until claimed by the Coredian Government. But the aforesaid act of Parliament prohibited Jedi from claiming the Twins, as well.

And as the ship entered hyperspace, Keith Allaire begain the process of figuring out just where, exactly, young Samuel Whitehouse was to go. Oh, he already sensed that he would probably be filing adoption papers within the week. But still, he had to make sure the kid didn't have any family to raise him. "You have a father?" he asked the boy, softly.

"Died just under two years ago," Samuel replied, in a whisper. Keith knew what that meant. The civil war had taken him.

"Other family?" Keith asked.

"They died, too."

"What was your mother's name? The authorities have tried, unsuccessfully, to identify her, but they will need your confirmation of her identity."

"Sarah. Sarah Whitehouse," the boy answered sadly, in a whisper. "I do not want to talk about it."

"I...understand," Keith muttered, aware of the boy's feelings. Now he had the information he would need to give her a proper memorial, since Bailey Kipper obviously did not...

Kayla and Herbert were also passing by the bridge, needing a good meal after that ordeal. Linda was still in the medical bay, healing from her injuries.

Overhearing the conversation between Samuel and Keith, Kayla interjected, saying, "We can help lay her to rest."

Kayla and Herbert were also passing by the bridge, needing a good meal after that ordeal. Linda was still in the medical bay, healing from her injuries.

Overhearing the conversation between Samuel and Keith, Kayla interjected, saying, "We can help lay her to rest."

"I do not yet know if that is necessary," Keith replied, "though you will no doubt be welcome to attend the funeral."

Young Samuel nodded.

In the mess hall, the Twins found that those eating chow were even less sociable towards the Masakis than Samuel had been, ignoring their presence entirely. Even Samuel had at least realized they were there. The soldiers eating chow literally did not even care enough to notice, leaving the Masakis to their drudgery. Someone managed to drop a glass, the shards of which splattered all over his exposed arms when it fell and broke. The afflicted person merely shrugged and left for the medical bay to deal with any potential infection, not really caring that any Jedi with the most basic of Force healing skills would have done just fine and there were two of them mopping the place. He just left his splattered drops of blood and shards of glass for the two of them to clean up, more worried about having two credits docked from his paycheck for replacing the glass than the injury itself.
Without further comment, the Twins set to work cleaning up the mess hall, including the broken glass and the blood on the floor. They seemed quite at home, despite their royal upbringings, doing something as dirty as cleaning up the mess hall of an Immortal Star Destroyer. Although it was quite boring with no one to talk to, they still had each other, and to the Twins, that was enough.

Perhaps they would enjoy being the cleanup crew of the Admiral's flagship. It would surely infuriate him to see that these two royal oafs actually enjoying doing menial labor all the time. That's the kind of work ethic their Master Curtis instilled in them when they were kids. But alas, they only had a few hours until someone claimed them...

Even after the Union reverted to realspace in White Diamond system about two and a half hours later, no one really seemed to notice the Masaki Twins, or care. No one so much as told them that the ship had arrived at its destination, much less proffered any way to get back to Coredia, mostly because no one noticed them in the first place. Sooner or later, the Twins would get the distinct idea that they needed to poke something...

As they were doing cleaning duty aboard the Union, Taylor and Jacob got the distinct feeling that they have been forgotten, especially as two and a half hours was enough time to get from Jurai to White Diamond.

"You get the feeling the Admiral forgot us?" Jacob asked.

"Yeah, I do. Might need to poke Keith, then." Taylor nodded, then reached out to do just that. Oy. Keith? Are we there yet? It's nice to do a little cleaning and all, but we really do have to debrief the Council about the Sith and Nightshade's involvement. If we are there, ping the Embassy, will ya? Thanks!

During those two and a half hours, rumors swirled on White Diamond as to why the Bailey Kipper Bounty had suddenly been frozen, at around five thirty in the morning White Diamond Mean Time. Adding to the suspicion was that suddenly the government had put a groundstop on all outbound space traffic, including charters, to Hoth. Could it be possible? Could the Sith have been killed?

During this time, no concrete information could be had. But little did the Woodian citizenry know that military journalists aboard the Union were sorting out what happened with Keith, Samuel, and the Dornalians, whilst the Masakis toiled. That the boy identified the unidentifiable body in their presence...and sure enough, when the military checked the Hoth resort records...neither mother nor son had returned to the comfort and warmth of their resort suite that evening.

When the Union arrived in White Diamond system, at 8:04 in the morning White Diamond Mean Time, aforesaid military journalists had a story ready to release to the news wire services ready to transmit. As even the military believed in journalistic ethics and integrity if the military could not tell the truth without jeopardizing national security, it just did not say anything at all, unlike most nations. Which meant that aforesaid military released the transcripts of the interviews to back up their story. And the pictures of Bailey Kipper's head impaled upon Colonel Allaire's polearm.

The media wasted no time in reporting, either, as earlier speculation suddenly became very confirmed. The morning news shows quickly cut their blather and jumped straight on the story, even the sacred money cow of Teh Commercial was cut short to report the breaking news.

"We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you live breaking news. Bailey Kipper has been confirmed dead." News networks everywhere stashed the visual of his head on a pike in the upper-right hand corner of the Holoscreen. "Speculation regarding the freezing of the Bailey Kipper Bounty and the groundstop on outbound traffic to Hoth resorts comes to an end today, as the Evil Woody Thoughts Navy confirms that Bailey Kipper was slain by Colonel Keith Allaire. Jacob and Taylor Masaki also are reported to have participated in the raid, during which they defeated an ambush by two additional Sith. Four other hostages were extracted from Bailey's hideout, including Linda and Herb Jensen of New Dornalia, a People's Acolyte (OOC: I don't remember the *last* name thereof), and Samuel Whitehouse of Evil Woody Thoughts."

The anchor paused for a second as she read further down the dispatch. "Samuel Whitehouse has identified the brutally Force-crushed-beyond-DNA-testing body that we reported on yesterday morning as his mother, thirty-two year old Sarah Whitehouse of Galadhon Province."

"Following the raid against the Sith on Hoth, the planet was ordered evacuated by the Navy out of an abundance of caution, given the possibility of retaliation. The bodies of Bailey Kipper's victims on Hoth are confirmed as on board the Star Destroyer Union. Funeral services for the victims have not yet been arranged. The Navy states that it was ambushed by three Tenetian Star Destroyers while calculating a hyperroute out of Hoth System, but the ambush was repelled with only twenty-four casualties, all of them fighter pilots. The Navy is expected to release further information within forty-eight hours."

"The Bailey Kipper Bounty was frozen at 4,630,407,611,944 credits, or approximately 4.63 trillion credits, several hours ago, fueling much speculation. This bounty will be split amongst Colonel Keith Allaire of Evil Woody Thoughts, and Jacob and Taylor Masaki of Coredia. Each will receive 1,543,469,203,981.33 credits, or approximately 1.54 trillion before taxes. Of that, Colonel Allaire will pay approximately 926 billion in taxes at the sixty percent alternative minimum rate, leaving him with approximately a 617 billion fortune, making him by far the richest person in Evil Woody Thoughts history. As the Coredian tax code has no alternative minimum tax, the various deductions that Jacob and Taylor Masaki will claim on their cut remain unknown and this reporter believes speculation is utterly hopeless until such time as they file their tax return."

"We will bring you more information as it becomes available, including reaction from Los Angeles, where negotiations in three-party talks between the Prime Minister, an unnamed Coredian Jedi Council member who is not Lowbacca, and the Dornalian Government were slated to take place later today, and Parliamentary reaction. Stay tuned for new developments, now for those just tuning in..."

In reaction to the news, Woodians breathed a collective sigh of relief. The Bailey Kipper threat was gone, and now the nation waited to see what, exactly Coredia would do to follow through on its invocation of surkai. Still, if there was anything that seemed to really confirm Coredia meant what her Council had said, it was that it had sent two of her crown princes against Bailey, though many found a certain element of poetic justice in that his head was pictured impaled upon the weapon of a Woodian officer one promotion away from flag rank. Relief expressed itself in stock market trading, as well, as the market that had opened down slightly less than ten minutes earlier surged more than five hundred points within forty seconds of the news anchors completing the second sentence of their breaking news, "Bailey Kipper has been confirmed dead," triggering automatic circuit-breaker trading curbs to temporarily halt trading.

And meanwhile, one of the participants in the Bailey Kipper Raid had a lot to do...

As they were doing cleaning duty aboard the Union, Taylor and Jacob got the distinct feeling that they have been forgotten, especially as two and a half hours was enough time to get from Jurai to White Diamond.

"You get the feeling the Admiral forgot us?" Jacob asked.

"Yeah, I do. Might need to poke Keith, then." Taylor nodded, then reached out to do just that.

Oy. Keith? Are we there yet? It's nice to do a little cleaning and all, but we really do have to debrief the Council about the Sith and Nightshade's involvement. If we are there, ping the Embassy, will ya? Thanks!

I have to do some legal shit, too, including a visit to the Coredian Embassy, Keith replied to Taylor's telepathic query. I will be able to notify the Embassy of your predicament then. Keith was fully aware of the Twins' legal black hole status of currently being in the White Diamond system, er, without a valid visa, but he also had to juggle the needs of the Twins with the needs of an eight-year-old orphan (thanks, Bailey!) with nowhere to go. And in this case, the kid would have to come first. I need to deal with the kid, hopefully the paperwork will not take long. I might not be able to do much for an hour or two, but you should still be out of here reasonably soon. If not, I will go to Earth and swipe a shuttle from Admiral Basque myself when I get a chance, Keith reassured the Twins. That reminded him, he had a spy to interrogate, too. *sigh* That bit about the spy could probably wait a day or two.

Keith quickly took a shuttle planetside, as teleportation or using transporters was hindered by the new SOP of always-partially-raised planetary defense shields. Samuel clung to his arm again as Keith quickly searched database records of his family, asking questions of Samuel along the way, such as where he had lived and whatnot, to narrow the search. Sure enough, the records confirmed he was the last surviving member of his family. As Keith was now comfortably under the planetary shield, he wasted no time in teleporting to the Ministry of Social Services.

The boy was clinging to Keith's left arm for a reason, Keith knew, and Keith resigned himself to the twenty minutes or so of adoption paperwork. It did not take the caseworker long to find what Keith had found earlier about his family, and she quickly rubber-stamped the adoption application. That a Jedi assumed responsibility for correcting a Fallen One's atrocity to the extent possible was encouraging, to say the least.

And, Samuel Whitehouse formally adopted as the (step)son of Keith Allaire, the two teleported straight to the Coredian Embassy, whereupon Keith waved to the guards and requested to speak to the Ambassador. At least this time, he had waited until *after* sunrise to come...

Keith reassuring them that they are going to leave soon, the Twins resumed their work on the starship.

Meanwhile, the Ambassador received Keith much more warmly than he had done the last time he saw him. Perhaps it was something to do with the fact that Bailey Kipper is now dead. "Coloniel Allaire! Welcome, welcome! What can I do for you today?"

=====

And in Los Angeles, Master Harry Blayden returned to the meeting, obviously pleased with the news that Bailey Kipper is dead and that the meeting can go forward...

Keith reassuring them that they are going to leave soon, the Twins resumed their work on the starship.

Meanwhile, the Ambassador received Keith much more warmly than he had done the last time he saw him. Perhaps it was something to do with the fact that Bailey Kipper is now dead. "Coloniel Allaire! Welcome, welcome! What can I do for you today?"

"Hello, Ambassador." Keith bowed, though the Ambassador would soon notice the kid clinging to his arm. "You probably heard the news. However, there is a slight complication. As you know, Taylor and Jacob Masaki were also on that mission...and now they are in something of a legal black hole on the Union. They are technically in this system, um...illegally, due to the fact that the revocation of Jedi visas has yet to be resolved, but they need to be claimed by your government. Sending Jedi to do it is inadvisable, as the Twins managed to anger Admiral Makaryk and the Admiral will just tell any Jedi sent to leave as they would be entering the system illegally. I believe the Prime Minister had a meeting scheduled with one of the Jedi Councilors and Premier MacIntyre this afternoon..."

"Oh, yes. And, before I forget, this one..." Keith gestured to the little one who apparently thought his arm was a tree trunk or something... "has identified the unidentifiable body as that of his mother. Given your involvement in resolving the dark incident, and given that the family will was not updated when most of the family died in the civil war...well, we would like to invite you to Sarah Whitehouse's funeral. As he is the last surviving member of his family, and I have legally adopted him, such becomes my responsibility."

And in Los Angeles, Master Harry Blayden returned to the meeting, obviously pleased with the news that Bailey Kipper is dead and that the meeting can go forward...

Fortunately, the Prime Minister had a few hours until aforesaid meeting. She used the time to hold conference calls with various members of Parliament to gauge what kind of agreement they would be willing to ratify. The consensus seemed to be for allowing Jedi to apply for visa reinstatement individually, but placing the burden of proof upon the Jedi themselves to prove that they were not a danger of committing Fallen Acts. As far as the new financial disclosure requirements for foreign businesses, well, suffice it to say that getting Woodians to repeal an anti-corruption measure was something like teaching a dolphin how to survive at the top of a desert mountain...

"Hello, Ambassador." Keith bowed, though the Ambassador would soon notice the kid clinging to his arm. "You probably heard the news. However, there is a slight complication. As you know, Taylor and Jacob Masaki were also on that mission...and now they are in something of a legal black hole on the Union. They are technically in this system, um...illegally, due to the fact that the revocation of Jedi visas has yet to be resolved, but they need to be claimed by your government. Sending Jedi to do it is inadvisable, as the Twins managed to anger Admiral Makaryk and the Admiral will just tell any Jedi sent to leave as they would be entering the system illegally. I believe the Prime Minister had a meeting scheduled with one of the Jedi Councilors and Premier MacIntyre this afternoon..."
"I see. Thank you for letting me know of this. I'll get right on that little problem." The Ambassador nodded.

"Oh, yes. And, before I forget, this one..." Keith gestured to the little one who apparently thought his arm was a tree trunk or something... "has identified the unidentifiable body as that of his mother. Given your involvement in resolving the dark incident, and given that the family will was not updated when most of the family died in the civil war...well, we would like to invite you to Sarah Whitehouse's funeral. As he is the last surviving member of his family, and I have legally adopted him, such becomes my responsibility."
"Duly noted. I will of course accept the invitation." The Ambassador replied. "Such things should never have occurred."

=====

"GNN Breaking News with your host, Terry Williams!"

"Hi! This is Terry Williams, bringing you breaking news from around the galaxy and then some! Our top story today: Bailey Kipper have just been defeated by a trio of Jedi, namely Woodian Coloniel Keith Allaire and the Masaki Twins, Taylor and Jacob Masaki. Furthermore, it has been reported that two Sith were involved in the duel and were also defeated. Likely speculation includes that Lady Nightshade may have taken an interest in Bailey Kipper, but that cannot be independently confirmed. In related news, the Bailey Bounty Counter has stopped ticking at a whopping 4.63 trillion credits, to be split among the three Jedi involved in the battle, split at approximately 1.54 trillion credits each. That's right, folks. The three Jedi are now the richest people in Coredia or Evil Woody Thoughts combined. Our colleagues at White Diamond also confirm that Keith will be paying a 926 billion tax bill, leaving him with a fortune approximating 671 billion credits. Taxes in Coredia are different, but certainly the Masaki Twins will be paying a hefty fee in collections as well."

At this, members of several clans fainted dead away at the thought of that much money being paid in taxes.

"What this will mean for future Woodian/Coredian relations? Unknown, but it is certainly very good news for our relations. This is Terry Williams, bringing you breaking news at GNN!"

As Keith and the Ambassador talked, an awkwardly loud ruckus erupted in the general area of the lobby outside, primarily in the form of the doors crashing open and a remarkably agitated Godulan standing several paces within the room and holding what appeared to be a small novel's worth of paperwork.

"WHAT in the bloody hell is THIS?" The Avatar bellowed, waving the stack of paper animatedly while crackling with electricity, "'Change of Ownership' forms for Jurai?! Look at this! We are only two kilometers away! You paid POSTAGE for this?!"

Further comments shrank from audibility as several embassy attendants rushed forward trying to offer platitudes and apologies in order to calm the Avatar down, and somewhere a baby was crying. Though the Avatar's voice was no longer quite as loud, the Ambassador and Keith could still here the occasional outburst along the lines of "And a transfer fee of 2% of the property's value? How do you determine that?!" "And this thing says we are REQUIRED to MAIL it back?" "How are we supposed to get a 'iridescent black ion pen'?" "No. No. NO. No. What part of No fails to compute?" "We need a match..."

"Excuse me Coloniel. I believe I have something to do." The Ambassador said, before turning to the angry Avatar. "Now, now, now, my Avatar friend. That's simply our bureaucracy at work. Of course transferring ownership of our former capital requires something of a stamp-and-file nature. Did you really think that just verbally giving it to you would be enough? It has to be completely official or else the paper pushers would spear us with their rulers and pens for going over their heads!"

The voice almost rattled windows across the street. "TWO PERCENT OF THE VALUE OF THE PROPERTY? It is a PLANET. How does one place a monetary value on a PLANET? You left the world to us in the midst of a Chronosian assault, we already had much of the world to ourselves. And this paperwork expects us to fill out an INVENTORY?!"

At this point, Colonel Allaire could only snicker at Teh Coredian Bureaucracy. Then, he got an idea. Sauntering over to the Godulan Avatar, who was currently arguing with the Ambassador, he decided to insert himself into the conversation. "Perhaps a Woodian Auditor would be willing to do the paperwork on your behalf," he joked. "Oh, and value the planet at one credit. Wait a minute...what the fuck am I suggesting...tax evasion!?"

The voice almost rattled windows across the street. "TWO PERCENT OF THE VALUE OF THE PROPERTY? It is a PLANET. How does one place a monetary value on a PLANET? You left the world to us in the midst of a Chronosian assault, we already had much of the world to ourselves. And this paperwork expects us to fill out an INVENTORY?!"
"We did leave much of the infrastructure intact when we left. And I believe it's said that Corusca Gems can be used to buy planets outright. Determine the value of a Corusca Gem, then determine the value of the property we left, and use that as a basis." The Ambassador suggested. "Either that or use the last Juraian national income figures and work from there. It's all stated in Coredian Statute #3285, Sections One through Five concerning Transfers of Ownership to Foreign Parties!"

The Godulan paused at Allaire's suggestion, then miraculously 'acquired' a pen from the various attendants trying to contain the situation (causing a yip of surprise from the startled girl in the process) and brought out the inventory sheet.

"Dirt... abandoned buildings... and we found that somebody left the heating system on. That was drawing power from our reserves, so we are owed..."

In a veritable frenzy of scribbling and page flapping, the Avatar blasted through the paperwork in approximately thirty seconds, moving so swiftly that a small breeze began to flow from him and set papers ruffling elsewhere in the lobby. He finished as quickly as he began, and another startled squeal signaled the Avatar's triumph over bureaucracy, along with a strangely suggestive wink from the Avatar towards the aforementioned attendant.

"We conducted an appraisal based on various parameters and valued the planet such that, incorporating the fact that you owe us money because you forgot to turn off the central heating and that left us with a rather hefty drain on our power supplies until we located and rectified the problem..." the Avatar handed the Ambassador the massive collection of filled-out paperwork. "You owe us ten credits. We will accept payment in the form of a double bacon cheeseburger meal from that place across the street."

He then turned to Keith and raised an eyebrow: "Mister Allaire, are you aware that your left arm appears to have a developed a child-shaped growth?"

He then turned to Keith and raised an eyebrow: "Mister Allaire, are you aware that your left arm appears to have a developed a child-shaped growth?"

"Indeed I am," Colonel Allaire only smiled as Sam looked innocently at the imposing figure of the Avatar, clutching Keith's arm more tightly in the process. "I seem to have acquired a young charge here whose mother was...killed by one Bailey Kipper, leaving him the last survivor of his line. Found this one just outside of Bailey's cave."

"WHAT?!" The Ambassador yelled and scanned the paperwork. "Oh...damn! You're right...fine, I'll treat you to lunch later. I have a pair of Jedi twins that need a ride home. Colonel, is there anything else I can do for you?"

The Avatar noticed all too well the pause during Keith's statement of how he sprouted the orphan on his arm. "It is truly a blessing that the fiend has been terminated. We have seen many depredations against humanity, from the Chronosians, from the Sith, it is truly a shame that we cannot reverse as much damage as they cause. We can, however, provide at least a small service against their horrors..."

Pwned, Keith thought to himself as the Ambassador screamed about owing money to the Godulans. Especially when the Ambassador realized the Godulan Avatar was correct...that was good for a grin. "I believe that about covers my business here," Keith, complete with grin on his face, told the Ambassador. Swiveling his head in the general direction of the Godulan Avatar, he inquired further, "And may I ask just what this 'small service' is?"

"Oh..." The avatar replied, making a rare show of expression in his innocent look and slightly obtuse stance. "It is a simple ritual that we learned a while back. We do not tend to enjoy performing the ritual as it invokes the name of a power that has harmed us greatly in the past, but the ritual has efficacy no matter who performs it.

"It is a simple hymn that we recite for some people that fear the Chronosians for what they can do to one's body and one's soul or what the Sith can do in kind. We can perform it on the dead as a sending-effect, to ensure that the spirit of the departed is sent to its proper reward, rather than twisted or corrupted by some defiling force. It can also be employed upon the living to ensureahighresistancetomindcontrolandnearimmunitytolifedrain... but you would not be interested in that..."

"Why do I sense you make an understatement?" Keith prodded the Avatar wryly, adding, "I caught the 'ensureahighresistancetomindcontrolandnearimmunitytolifedrain' part. Yes, after what Bailey has done to her soul, it could use such assurances of peace. Hell, why have not the Godulans proffered this procedure to Woodians in general after what the civil war put them through? You know a huge supermajority would take you up on the offer. Including myself, though it can probably wait until after Samuel's mother is honored."

"Me, too," the kid added, speaking for the first time to Mr. Scary Godulan Avatar Guy for the first time. "I want it, too." The eight-year-old boy has clearly seen too much for his young eyes...

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

Having finished his errands at the Embassy, Colonel Allaire teleported himself and Samuel to a military base on the eastern border of the capital city, whereupon he swiped his 'Mech and stuffed young Samuel into its jumpseat. However, he did not immediately proceed south to the National War Memorial Cemetery. The Force was not quite ready for such yet. It had other ideas.

Keith did not even partially realize why he instead headed west into the mountains at full throttle for a good thirty minutes and seventy-some odd kilometers later, another twenty-two hundred meters elevation later. He abruptly stopped in a narrow, snow-covered-in-summer mountain pass, where the road was met by two steep but short cliffs where it had been blasted through the lowest point of the pass to make sure its grade was not too steep for heavy wheeled or tracked vehicles in winter conditions with less-than-ideal traction. Even now, he knew not why he was here, but he sensed that this pass was...different. Sure, the entire planet was strong in the Light Side of the Force. But this pass seemed to be...well...a nexus of it. Keith stopped his 'Mech on the road's shoulder and meditated on why this would be the case...and sensed that this was the place where the rumors of a White Lady had originated. The site where Darth Ebolus' fell hordes pursued civilians fleeing certain execution in cities below...and were blinded by a flash of light more luminous than a hundred suns.

"You are going to want to piggyback me," Keith advised his charge, "unless you want to take a six hundred meter climb at fifty degree grade yourself." Keith took off his neurohelmet, and the boy quickly got the hint, climbing up on Keith's back like a backpack. Keith used the Force to more or less sticky-glue him onto his uniform, so that he didn't have to worry about the boy falling off, after which point he teleported out of his 'Mech and onto the shoulder of the highway.

He knew immediately where to go, thanks to his geokinetic senses. The cliff face had a hole in it about twenty meters ahead, belying the existence of a cavern. Keith entered, and saw the cavern split into five or so subterranean tunnels, all of which were carved out by subterranean creeks that ran down the mountain. A waterfall existed in the middle of the cavern, as the water, runoff from summer glacier melt, plunged five hundred feet below to divert to another subterranean river. Keith wondered why his Hydrogeology course last semester had not included a field trip here.

Keith selected one of the caverns after meditating in the Force for a moment, and after ascending perhaps fifty meters, took a side cavern that led to the mountain surface, whereupon he saw that he stood over the mountain pass. The cliff was straight down, and he could even see his 'Mech below him. Nevertheless, he began alternating between hiking, at jogging speed, an apparent seldom-used trail (that did have some windblown footprints in the snow) and climbing. Six hundred meters elevation at a mean forty-degree grade later, he found the summit of this particular mountain. And...something else.

The woman, clothed in fairly simple robes that blended in perfectly with the snowcapped summit itself, got up from her meditation--she had been sitting with her back to Keith. She stood up, taller than he, and turned to face him, only Keith could not clearly see her face because a white light, albeit not a completely blinding one, seemed to emanate from it. Keith sensed, however, that this woman could render him in need of an eye transplant quite easily if she wished it.

"The Gardien du passage de montagne," Keith muttered in surprise at having actually found the rumored White Lady, relapsing into the French of his ancestors. (OOC disclaimer: I don't know French and used an online translator. If I butchered French OOCly, know that Keith would speak it correctly ICly.)

"You bring darkness here," she spoke softly. "Your heart, once bound to the Woodian Sauron, has since sought its Redemption."

Colonel Allaire winced. Calling Darth Ebolus the 'Woodian Sauron' was a pretty damn concise phrasing of the truth. And he had thought he had done the best that could be done to atone for those fell deeds that Ebolus' mind-enslavement practices had driven him to do. Apparently not. And there was, of course, always something disconcerting about being judged so truthfully by someone whom he had never met, much less someone who had probably barely heard his name uttered. He bowed his head in deference to her wisdom and her judgment, remaining quiet.

"You seek atonement. You seek to extinguish the darkness; you have taken in one of its victims after freeing him. But you do not know how to free his mother..."

"Yes," Keith replied, wanting to let the White Lady do most of the speaking. He noticed she had not identified herself, but decided not to press the issue.

"Young Samuel Whitehouse," the avatar spoke to the boy for the first time. "Come here." The boy jumped off Keith's back, and walked slowly, with a bit of nervousness, towards the White Lady. "What became of your mother's soul?"

"I...do not know. I think the Sith destroyed it," he stammered.

The unknown White Lady set her hand on Samuel's head. "I can see the experiences of others," she explained to the boy. "Things that were. Things that are. Things that have not yet come to pass." And through the boy's mind, she witnessed exactly what had happened, the murders of Bailey Kipper, Fallen One. A long and somewhat uneasy silence passed as she meditated on Samuel's experience. "No. She is trapped," the White Lady finally concluded. "Her soul currently resides in what is variously referred to as Sheol, Purgatory, Yomi, Hades... yet through no fault of her own. Mister Allaire, you are charged with her final arrangements, yes?"

Keith nodded.

"Her spirit must be freed. She did nothing to incur what the Fallen One had in store for her."

"I know," Keith agreed, bowing his head a bit further. "But I do not know the way..."

Then he was knocked to the ground by a blinding white light, no doubt the same one that the armies of Darth Ebolus had seen pursuing their victims up the mountain pass a couple of years earlier. And, for the first time since Keith had faced Darth Ebolus in the Trial of Refusal that resulted in his mindrape, Keith was afraid. Really afraid. He got up, to face his would-be attacker, but did not reach for a weapon, or even take a step towards her. While most Jedi taught by Coredian defensive standards would've attempted a counterattack, or at least to flee, Keith did not. Such was not the will of the Force. Instead, he tried in vain to shield his eyes.

Shortly thereafter, his brain overloaded, and he blacked out.

About thirty minutes later, Samuel, who had witnessed the whole thing, and who seemed strangely unaffected, at least physically, by aforesaid blinding light, poked Keith, trying to revive him. Keith's eyes opened, and he sensed the White Lady was gone. But he also sensed he had passed her test. More importantly, he realized that whatever she had done to him, it had included the knowledge of what he should do.

It would be the ultimate judgment for the one who killed Bailey to enable the souls of his depravity's victims to become one with the Force. Very strangely, he could no longer claim that such was beyond his ability or knowledge, either.

"Let us go," Keith directed Samuel. "Our task here is done." Samuel climbed up on his back and Keith teleported back to his 'Mech.

OOC: It's four in the morning and I'm too tired to continue this post, given that the funeral alone would probably take another hour to write, under ideal conditions. I will post that ASAP. In the meantime, enjoy the prelude to it.

OOC: Godular, New Dornalia, and CoreWorlds should all assume that all of their interested characters are present. Additionally, as this post ends roughly ten hours after the Union arrived in system, CoreWorlds needs to RP the Twins getting picked up as well...

Also, I'd very much appreciate it if Godular got first dibs on the posting order. Thank you.

Before Keith left the area with Samuel, he stopped just inside that cave again, to get something that apparently he had forgotten. Samuel, somewhat confused as to why Keith would want to go back, waited by the 'Mech, on the wide shoulder of the highway. A fifteen-kilo slab of granite cleaved off the cavern ceiling, Keith caught it, and went back to his 'Mech, whereupon he grabbed Samuel, stuffed him in the jumpseat, and turned back to head towards the military base off to the west, radioing ahead to bring the body of the one whom Bailey had damned down from the Union to the surface, with utmost respect for the deceased, of course.

It was there, at the base, where Keith Allaire, the Jedi Order's first Earth Knight, crafted and chiseled the granite into an urn for Samuel's mother, using what knowledge he had of alchemy to strengthen the rock and render it more durable, with the boy watching. Though the craft before him was conceptually simple, Keith spent the next three and a half hours making sure the urn was perfect, with not a scratch or crack on inside or out. Meanwhile, the boy watched in wonderment, seemingly oblivious to his own potential in the Force. When, at last, Keith finished his work to his satisfaction, he reverently placed what remained of Sarah Whitehouse into the urn, and closed it.

When he and the boy were ready to leave, he telepathically notified Kayla , People's Acolyte, the Godulan Avatar whom he had seen in the Embassy this morning, and the Coredian Ambassador to get going to the National War Memorial Cemetery (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=10731387&postcount=631) by sundown. And to come alone, with the exception of Kayla, who was told to bring the Jensens, if they wished. He also requested the ceremony be kept private, and informed them that he would take care of media issues.

Which he did. After notifying the interesting parties, he directly ordered a military journalist to come with him and document. At which point, the threesome, Keith, his new stepson, and aforesaid journalist, proceeded to take Highway Three the seventy or so kilometers south to the War Memorial Cemetery, and waited a reasonable amount of time for the others to arrive.

When all were present, Keith had Samuel find the plot where his father was buried amongst the sea of white crosses that marked those in the capital city who had died in the civil war, which was no small task, because the cemetery had grown within a month following aforesaid war to swallow more land than Great Woody City itself. Many millions were buried here, which generated an aura that no doubt caught the Godulan's attention, as well as the Acolyte's attention as well, and Keith definitely noticed it. That meant millions of makeshift white crosses, many of which had since been supplemented with tombstones, but still, the ubiquity of the crosses would have been somewhat unnerving to the uninitiated. Still this place was strong in the Light Side, infused with the noble intentions of those who had buried the cemetery's residents, though not as strong as the nexus Keith had found earlier. A few assorted mourners who had been milling about joined the party as well.

After three kilometers of walking, Samuel found his late father's cross and tombstone, and knelt beside it. Keith uttered a prayer in archaic French, one recited by surviving relatives of those killed in the general atrocity and stupidity that the history books referred to as "Terran World War I." Upon the conclusion of aforesaid prayer, he opened the urn, allowing those present to look if their stomachs could take the contents of a crushed, half-burnt, unidentifiable corpse.

After something of a viewing period, Keith respectfully cremated the remains, blue flame shooting and dancing out of the urn. When he had alchemized the granite, he had done so at least partially to stand these high temperatures without any slag formation whatsoever. During the cremation, Keith remained mostly silent, bowing his head in deference to the deceased, only uttering some kind of a spell in Elvish that he would not have been able to translate. To which he added a whisper, "Go now, be at peace."

Whereupon Keith reached out with the Force to release her soul into it. Everyone present sensed some difference in the air, whether Force-sensitive or not, as Sarah Whitehouse was freed from her victimization at the hands of the Fallen One to enjoy the freedom of becoming one with the Force. Though she did not appear as a Force Ghost, the very air seemed to thank Keith as her soul observed the respectful and honorable cremation of her body, as cremation was the best that could be done with a body so hopelessly disfigured by evil. To which Knight Allaire actually kowtowed in reply, to honor her sacrifice.

The flames, meanwhile, burned her physical remains into fine white ash, even her bones made into powder by the searing heat. Keith sealed the urn reverently, and unearthed a hole beside the remains of Samuel's late father to bury her remains. But Samuel, having a flashback to Bailey Kipper's instruction to bury her, gently shoved Keith's hand away. "I want to bury her," the boy said.

And so it was. The boy whom Bailey Kipper had ordered to bury his mother did so, under far more respectful circumstances than the Fallen One had intended. And the one who had struck down the Fallen One, released the Fallen One's most notorious victim into the Force, the ultimate rebuke to one so depraved. And the military journalist caught it all on tape, in preparation to perform his duties of public notification while still respecting the boy's expectation of privacy.

Now, Keith just had to jump through the red tape to do the same honor by Bailey's [i]other Force Crush victim, Rear Admiral Aidan Zhukov...

The Avatar's mouth moved, issuing forth a whispered song that few could hear, and for all who thought to look, it would have seemed as though the subtle speech were exacting a physical toll upon him. His imposing figure was hunched over, and his body spasmed with pain, whether real or imagined. A strange glint seeped from his eyes, and drops of a strange black liquid created a pair of streaks down his face and onto the sides of his chin, dripping off and creating a smattering of black liquid on the ground that evaporated almost as quickly as it fell.

You were kind in offering them the service, a voice from the Overlink declared, but we fear you may have unleashed the floodgates. Are you willing to take this strain upon yourself?

I am. If this is necessary to hinder further attempts to destroy lives, then so be it. May they know his accursed name. May it bring them comfort. Maybe we can make him atone for his crimes against us with this.

So be it. Be careful. We sense you sliding back into the black tears. Do not let your rage overwhelm you like it did all of us.

I... shall endeavor to... contain myself.

Keith and the Orphan were the only others close enough to hear, and the hymn was thus:

His name is Sojun Majestatus,
The Seeker of Peace, The Magnificent End.
To know his name is to be held as Iron.
No sacrifice shall take you,
No mind shall break you,
No thing shall make you
Stray from your course
As laid out by your will.
Your life has earned its just rewards,
Let justice be done.

And he focused his attention on the corpse for a moment, then continued his prayer with a subtle gesture in which he opened his hands as if to release something from containment.

May eternity keep you well,
And may the evils done upon you not follow.
Know peace.

As he finished the hymn, he took a few steps back and looked for a place to sit down. For Keith and Samuel, the only living people who could hear the hymn, there did not seem to be any discernible difference from before, save for a strange tingling sensation in the back of their mind... akin to the feeling of being watched.

The Ambassador was also paying his respects to the woman he never knew, yet as the Jedi would say, was nevertheless distantly connected by virtue of the Force. The man, clad in formal kimono wear, clapped his hands once, in that ancient Shinto way of getting resident kami or spirits' attention and spoke a simple prayer for the woman in Japanese. "May the Kami who resides here speed Sarah Whitehouse to the afterlife."

Then he bowed deeply to the grave, and followed that with another deep bow to the child. He spoke again in the same language. "May you have peace in this life, young one."

When the Godulan spoke his own litany, the Ambassador also felt the slight feeling in the back of his mind that he was being watched, but soon brushed it away.

=====

Meanwhile, a light freighter that is completely piloted by non-Force Sensitives exited hyperspace near White Diamond. "Star Destroyer Union. This is freighter Pack 'Em Up. The Ambassador has contacted us to pick up the Masaki Twins. Please reply ASAP, over!"

OOC: Text in Italics is in Hebrew. It's the Mourner's Kaddish, courtesy of ou.org.

IC:

Kayla Tunstall and the Jensens--Kayla in her People's Acolytes dress outfit, the Jensens in black mourning clothes--then performed their own obescienances to the grave of Sarah Whitehouse.

An old Dornalian ceremony of some unknown provenance (though UCLA Anthropologists insisted it was originally Cantonese), they removed their hats and then bowed three times before the grave.

As this occurred, the Jensens, not particularly religious, remained silent--to them, the customary gesture was enough. Kayla, however, thought differently. As she did her bows, she muttered a prayer in Hebrew, the Kaddish, and began saying in a hushed, mournful, reverent tone which the others would be able to hear:

Glorified and sanctified be God's great name throughout the world which He has created according to His will. May He establish His kingdom in your lifetime and during your days, and within the life of the entire House of Israel, speedily and soon; and say, Amen.

May His great name be blessed forever and to all eternity.

Blessed and praised, glorified and exalted, extolled and honored, adored and lauded be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, beyond all the blessings and hymns, praises and consolations that are ever spoken in the world; and say, Amen.

May there be abundant peace from heaven, and life, for us
and for all Israel; and say, Amen.

He who creates peace in His celestial heights, may He create peace for us and for all Israel; and say, Amen.

Kayla then saluted the grave, and then the three stepped back. They began to take in the scenery, struck with veritable "fear and wonder" at the rows of crosses before them...

His name is Sojun Majestatus,
The Seeker of Peace, The Magnificent End.
To know his name is to be held as Iron.
No sacrifice shall take you,
No mind shall break you,
No thing shall make you
Stray from your course
As laid out by your will.
Your life has earned its just rewards,
Let justice be done.

May eternity keep you well,
And may the evils done upon you not follow.
Know peace.

As Keith and Samuel stood over the newly covered grave, observing the prayers of the others, both of them sensed the Avatar's efforts to hold back rage at some atrocity that this Majestatus fellow had committed. That, unlike the Fallen One whom Keith had just slain, this Majestatus had at least found a way to atone for whatever War Crimes he had committed. Keith sensed it far more distinctly, as his senses were well trained to detect such things, but with the Black Tears, even a non-Force sensitive could easily tell that the Godulan was placing himself under severe stress by invoking the oath of this Majestatus fellow.

I feel like I am being watched by him, Keith telepathically informed Samuel. A very vague feeling, but it is there.

Me too.

Well, I believe his name is invoked to protect us against Dark Attacks designed to sap our will. You know, mind enslavement and Force Drains. You have seen both. I could see where this would necessitate 'keeping watch' over us. Still, I will have to do some research. Unfortunate that invoking this 'Held as Iron' oath appears so difficult for the Godulans to do. Everyone who lived through the civil war would want it done for them.

Yeah. Too bad.

I will have to talk to the Avatar about it. Still, I know of someone who really, really should have this procedure done to his soul...

As the sun set over the ocean to the west, the shadows of the multitudes of white crosses seemed to grow by the second, an eerie effect to be sure. Keith used the last few moments of daylight to carefully, yet quickly, chisel her epigraph on the gravestone underneath the white cross marking the passing of the Whitehouses. To the standard name and born/death dates, he added simply, "MAY YOU KNOW THE PEACE THAT YOU DID NOT FIND IN THIS WORLD."

After the small assemblage started to disperse, Keith pulled the Avatar aside. "Unfortunate that invoking this...oath...is so psychologically traumatic. There are many, many, many in this nation who would derive much peace of mind from it if they knew about it..."

Meanwhile, a light freighter that is completely piloted by non-Force Sensitives exited hyperspace near White Diamond. "Star Destroyer Union. This is freighter Pack 'Em Up. The Ambassador has contacted us to pick up the Masaki Twins. Please reply ASAP, over!"

Admiral Makaryk personally answered the transmission. "I hope there are no Jedi aboard?" He had no way of knowing that the Coredians were, in fact, abiding by the national security restrictions on Jedi...

OOC: New Dornalia, can you please restart the LA meeting? Thank you...

Admiral Makaryk personally answered the transmission. "I hope there are no Jedi aboard?" He had no way of knowing that the Coredians were, in fact, abiding by the national security restrictions on Jedi...

OOC: New Dornalia, can you please restart the LA meeting? Thank you...
"You can check for yourself, sir." The pilot replied. He certainly did get fair warning about EWT's Jedi-banning.

"You can check for yourself, sir." The pilot replied. He certainly did get fair warning about EWT's Jedi-banning.

"How the hell am I supposed to check that when I have received no passenger and crew manifest? Prove your legal right to be in this system. Now," the Admiral growled over the comm in response.

"How the hell am I supposed to check that when I have received no passenger and crew manifest? Prove your legal right to be in this system. Now," the Admiral growled over the comm in response.
"Very well. Here's the manifest." The pilot said.

The pilot sent the manifest of the YT-class Pack 'Em Up, which consisted of two pilots, one droid and no passengers. Both pilots are explicitly normal in all respects.

"Very well. Here's the manifest." The pilot said.

The pilot sent the manifest of the YT-class Pack 'Em Up, which consisted of two pilots, one droid and no passengers. Both pilots are explicitly normal in all respects.

The Admiral personally checked the names on the manifest against records of Coredian visas and found that the crew did, indeed, have the legal right to be in White Diamond system.

"Hangar bay. Union. You shall find your royal Jedi scum there." It was pretty clear that Admiral Makaryk hadn't been very pleased with the Twins. Meanwhile, he sent orders to the kitchen staff to inform the two Masakis that transportation would shortly be arriving in the hangar bay...

After the small assemblage started to disperse, Keith pulled the Avatar aside. "Unfortunate that invoking this...oath...is so psychologically traumatic. There are many, many, many in this nation who would derive much peace of mind from it if they knew about it..."

"Indeed," the Avatar replied, attempting to wipe the streaks of black fluid from his face. The fluid departed, but a strange stain remained behind, giving him a strangely unnerving appearance as he began to explain why the hymn was so difficult.

"Our 'leaders' were... antagonistic to him a long time in the past, but they had come to an accord. He believed that our development of the Kython Scourge was a weapon to be used against him. He tried to force our capitulation, but we would not break, and neither would he back down. The Coredians, the Balroggans, and even the Chronosians-- long held as our enemy and virtual antithesis, came to our aid against him, and it was insufficient. We would have lost even more worlds than Terivine had not another enemy opened a second front against him.

"We managed to bring the world back together, but repairing the loss of life is significantly more difficult. These black scalding tears are a byproduct of our outrage. We looked up to Sojun as a paragon of justice, peace, and all that was good in a dangerous and antagonistic reality, and he hurt us because he feared what we have become. He did not stop to ask if we would be responsible with our capabilities. He did not try to understand. He came and he destroyed.

"The ritual stings us, because we would like to believe that people are light and dark and nothing in between, but it is never so simple. We would like to hate the Chronotheurge for his actions, and many of us do exactly that, but he still provides things of great good to those who know of him, to ward against those who would seek to deny people their 'just reward'."

He turned his now solid-black eyes to Keith and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We see how the Coredians have affected you similarly. You believed them to be your friends and allies, but the actions of their leadership wounded you to the core. Never again will you be able to trust them as you once did, and we cannot blame you for that, we of all people would understand exactly that. There may be elements of corruption festering within their power structure, and such may need to be rooted out, but the Masakis are good at heart, if only a little... clumsy. We would wish they would only be able to see things in the long term, and perhaps after everything that has befallen their people they just might understand the importance. You are angry, yes, but they are in pain too. The Cylons hold them hostage on their own worlds, Chronosian hatred snaps at them without relent, and their existence seems as one long retreat from one group of systems to the next.

"Be... merciful. Show them the 'proper way' through your actions. We have seen how your commander, the military, and the Woodian populace treat the Masakis, and we are saddened. Remember they helped you rebuild after the civil war tragedy, as did we. Correct them when they are incorrect, yes, but do not disrespect them. Help them."

The Avatar removed his hand and stepped back slightly, forcing his expression into a serene smile and nodding. "It may be difficult, but we feel that the hymn is a method to exact the atonement from Sojun that he never gave us for what he did. By invoking his name, we help others against the ravages of darkness that have worked their way even into his heart. It is not much, but it does not have to be. It only has to be enough. We shall offer this service freely, but we shall not advertise our service. We know that after this, more will come seeking the hymn, but we would prefer a steady and stable flow."

"Thank you, Union." The pilot cut off comms and headed for the hangar bay. He grumbled about the fact that the Admiral called the Masaki Twins 'scum'. "Scum, my ass. You should not be saying such things to our Royals!"

The transport headed into the hangar bay and waited for the twins to come out.

=====

Indeed, once they were notified, the Jedi Twins wasted little time in finishing up their cleaning, cleaned themselves up and headed for the hangar bay.

They soon headed into the freighter.

"How you guys doing?" The pilot asked.

"Eh, fine. My arms are just tired." Taylor grumbled.

"Heh. Made you work like dogs, eh?" The pilot was bemused at that. "Satoshi Regen, Evin Shipping Company."

"Nice to meet you." Jacob replied.

"Yeah, same here. Let's get out of here before the Admiral changes his mind." Satoshi grinned and took off as quickly as he entered.

"Can you drop us off at Hoth?" Taylor asked.

"Why there? You just left the place." Satoshi asked.

"I know, but we left our fighters there." Jacob replied.

"Ah, I see. Well, I don't have a problem with that." Satoshi shrugged and inputted the necessary commands into the navicom before making the jump to hyperspace.

OOC: Going out for dinner and a round of schoolwork, I can edit later.

IC:

Los Angeles, California, Earth SSR

As the events on White Diamond and Hoth played to their welcome conclusion (the Dornalian news media had a field day over the ending of the Bailey Kipper Crisis, and people were grateful that mess was done with), Junko and Premier MacIntyre got the meeting going again where they left off.....

....whereupon Junko said, smiling as demurely as ever, "Judging from recent events, it seems the recent crisis has ended. The Coredians have asked for Surkai and Kipper is dead. I know the Clans have come here to talk, so before we get to them, do we have any more business pertaining?"

"Indeed," the Avatar replied, attempting to wipe the streaks of black fluid from his face. The fluid departed, but a strange stain remained behind, giving him a strangely unnerving appearance as he began to explain why the hymn was so difficult.

"Our 'leaders' were... antagonistic to him a long time in the past, but they had come to an accord. He believed that our development of the Kython Scourge was a weapon to be used against him. He tried to force our capitulation, but we would not break, and neither would he back down. The Coredians, the Balroggans, and even the Chronosians-- long held as our enemy and virtual antithesis, came to our aid against him, and it was insufficient. We would have lost even more worlds than Terivine had not another enemy opened a second front against him.

"We managed to bring the world back together, but repairing the loss of life is significantly more difficult. These black scalding tears are a byproduct of our outrage. We looked up to Sojun as a paragon of justice, peace, and all that was good in a dangerous and antagonistic reality, and he hurt us because he feared what we have become. He did not stop to ask if we would be responsible with our capabilities. He did not try to understand. He came and he destroyed.

"The ritual stings us, because we would like to believe that people are light and dark and nothing in between, but it is never so simple. We would like to hate the Chronotheurge for his actions, and many of us do exactly that, but he still provides things of great good to those who know of him, to ward against those who would seek to deny people their 'just reward'."

He turned his now solid-black eyes to Keith and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We see how the Coredians have affected you similarly. You believed them to be your friends and allies, but the actions of their leadership wounded you to the core. Never again will you be able to trust them as you once did, and we cannot blame you for that, we of all people would understand exactly that. There may be elements of corruption festering within their power structure, and such may need to be rooted out, but the Masakis are good at heart, if only a little... clumsy. We would wish they would only be able to see things in the long term, and perhaps after everything that has befallen their people they just might understand the importance. You are angry, yes, but they are in pain too. The Cylons hold them hostage on their own worlds, Chronosian hatred snaps at them without relent, and their existence seems as one long retreat from one group of systems to the next.

"Be... merciful. Show them the 'proper way' through your actions. We have seen how your commander, the military, and the Woodian populace treat the Masakis, and we are saddened. Remember they helped you rebuild after the civil war tragedy, as did we. Correct them when they are incorrect, yes, but do not disrespect them. Help them."

The Avatar removed his hand and stepped back slightly, forcing his expression into a serene smile and nodding. "It may be difficult, but we feel that the hymn is a method to exact the atonement from Sojun that he never gave us for what he did. By invoking his name, we help others against the ravages of darkness that have worked their way even into his heart. It is not much, but it does not have to be. It only has to be enough. We shall offer this service freely, but we shall not advertise our service. We know that after this, more will come seeking the hymn, but we would prefer a steady and stable flow."

"It is true that we Woodians judge government officials very harshly," Keith admitted. "Given the multitudes of examples of monarchs running their countries into the ground in Terran history, there are a fair few negative stereotypes that get slapped on royal families in Evil Woody Thoughts. Oh, sure, there were and are the occasional exceptions to the cancer-on-the-national-budget stereotypes that the Masakis tend to be judged against, and dare I say that had Woodians been able to evaluate Alexander Masaki for more than two weeks before his death, he would have been judged to be such an exception. Daniel, however...well, suffice it to say that Woodians view his place as on the battlefield, not in governance. Much of the military views the Royal Family in the same way. But yes, I will have to talk to Admiral Makaryk about it..."

Keith paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. "Now, getting back on subject...there is another whom Bailey destroyed in such a manner. Admiral Aidan Zhukov, whom Admiral Makaryk had sent to Caligula to aid in its defense. Aid in aforesaid defense he did, by forcing the Clans into an honor duel that spared the Coredian Fleets, in dire need of preservation for fighting the Black Crusade. For that...the Fallen One destroyed him. And started this whole mess. Would the Godulans be willing to perform this service for his soul, that it may rest in peace?"

"Thank you, Union." The pilot cut off comms and headed for the hangar bay. He grumbled about the fact that the Admiral called the Masaki Twins 'scum'. "Scum, my ass. You should not be saying such things to our Royals!"

The transport headed into the hangar bay and waited for the twins to come out.

It was probably a good thing that the pilot *did* cut off the comm, because had he not, he would've faced himself on the wrong end of a Trial of Grievance for seeking to deny the Admiral his opinion. As it was, Admiral Makaryk was glad to be rid of the Masakis, hoping he wouldn't have to deal with them for a long while.

Los Angeles, California, Earth SSR

As the events on White Diamond and Hoth played to their welcome conclusion (the Dornalian news media had a field day over the ending of the Bailey Kipper Crisis, and people were grateful that mess was done with), Junko and Premier MacIntyre got the meeting going again where they left off.....

....whereupon Junko said, smiling as demurely as ever, "Judging from recent events, it seems the recent crisis has ended. The Coredians have asked for Surkai and Kipper is dead. I know the Clans have come here to talk, so before we get to them, do we have any more business pertaining?"

"Would it be that it was that easy," Prime Minister Elleayovskii sighed. "Unfortunately, the Parliament, while it has signaled a willingness to relax the prohibition on foreign Jedi, remains wary of the possibility of another Fallen One arising. I suspect that never again will we trust the Coredians in the way we once did."

The Prime Minister cleared a lump in her throat. "Willing to lift the entrance ban, the Parliament is. However, it insists that Jedi individually re-apply for visas, and that the burden of proof that they are not a danger to Woodians be on them. The standard of proof the Parliament is proposing is admittedly harsh, and involves Jedi going under a ysalmari field and giving a lie-detector test in the presence of a Woodian immigration and customs judge, at a Woodian consulate. The standards for Shinobi will be even more strict, and the Parliament demands automatic deportation for those who claim not to be Shinobi, yet are caught otherwise. Moreover, the Parliament is NOT willing to restore the extraterritoriality or immunities that Jedi previously enjoyed at this time."

"And regarding the financial disclosure agreements that the Parliament slapped on subsidiaries of foreign businesses...well, trying to get the Parliament to repeal ANY anti-corruption measure is something akin to teaching a dolphin how to survive at the summit of a desert mountain..."

"Would it be that it was that easy," Prime Minister Elleayovskii sighed. "Unfortunately, the Parliament, while it has signaled a willingness to relax the prohibition on foreign Jedi, remains wary of the possibility of another Fallen One arising. I suspect that never again will we trust the Coredians in the way we once did."

The Prime Minister cleared a lump in her throat. "Willing to lift the entrance ban, the Parliament is. However, it insists that Jedi individually re-apply for visas, and that the burden of proof that they are not a danger to Woodians be on them. The standard of proof the Parliament is proposing is admittedly harsh, and involves Jedi going under a ysalmari field and giving a lie-detector test in the presence of a Woodian immigration and customs judge, at a Woodian consulate. The standards for Shinobi will be even more strict, and the Parliament demands automatic deportation for those who claim not to be Shinobi, yet are caught otherwise. Moreover, the Parliament is NOT willing to restore the extraterritoriality or immunities that Jedi previously enjoyed at this time."

"And regarding the financial disclosure agreements that the Parliament slapped on subsidiaries of foreign businesses...well, trying to get the Parliament to repeal ANY anti-corruption measure is something akin to teaching a dolphin how to survive at the summit of a desert mountain..."
Harry Blayden frowned slightly at the restrictions, although as a specialist in the Mind Trick, he could somewhat see where the Prime Minister was coming from. A dark version of him...he shuddered. "I see. While these restrictions are troublesome, if it means that your nation will be safe from a future Kipper, then so be it. We shall accept them. On the business side, I would say that if a business is honest, they would have nothing to fear and may benefit from accurate disclosure. If they're not honest...again I would say they're not meant to be in Woodian space in the first place. I suppose this is one of those times when we must swallow our admittedly large Coredian pride."

"It is true that we Woodians judge government officials very harshly," Keith admitted. "Given the multitudes of examples of monarchs running their countries into the ground in Terran history, there are a fair few negative stereotypes that get slapped on royal families in Evil Woody Thoughts. Oh, sure, there were and are the occasional exceptions to the cancer-on-the-national-budget stereotypes that the Masakis tend to be judged against, and dare I say that had Woodians been able to evaluate Alexander Masaki for more than two weeks before his death, he would have been judged to be such an exception. Daniel, however...well, suffice it to say that Woodians view his place as on the battlefield, not in governance. Much of the military views the Royal Family in the same way. But yes, I will have to talk to Admiral Makaryk about it..."

The Avatar simply nodded in acceptance.

Keith paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. "Now, getting back on subject...there is another whom Bailey destroyed in such a manner. Admiral Aidan Zhukov, whom Admiral Makaryk had sent to Caligula to aid in its defense. Aid in aforesaid defense he did, by forcing the Clans into an honor duel that spared the Coredian Fleets, in dire need of preservation for fighting the Black Crusade. For that...the Fallen One destroyed him. And started this whole mess. Would the Godulans be willing to perform this service for his soul, that it may rest in peace?"

He gave another nod. "We would be honored. You have but to inform us of when and where the funeral shall be held, and we will be there as you ask." He gave a momentary pause, and looked up into the sky for a moment, then back to Keith and gave a wry smile. "We admit that we were not expecting to take on this responsibility. We were crafted originally for the specific purpose of dealing with that paperwork, but we suppose hearing of these terrible deaths, and our offering of the hymn, has given us a new purpose. The Legion has seen fit to bestow us with a name befitting our new 'jurisdiction'. Barachiel, the Messenger. The names of Angels are reserved to the leaders of various sectors of civilian interaction. We think we have been... promoted."

Harry Blayden frowned slightly at the restrictions, although as a specialist in the Mind Trick, he could somewhat see where the Prime Minister was coming from. A dark version of him...he shuddered. "I see. While these restrictions are troublesome, if it means that your nation will be safe from a future Kipper, then so be it. We shall accept them. On the business side, I would say that if a business is honest, they would have nothing to fear and may benefit from accurate disclosure. If they're not honest...again I would say they're not meant to be in Woodian space in the first place. I suppose this is one of those times when we must swallow our admittedly large Coredian pride."

Premier MacIntyre didn't say much. He shrugged and said, "I suppose if the Coredians agree to it, then I have no problem with it either." His face betrayed an irritance at the whole business, and he seemed rather nonchalant about the matter.

Junko was different. Her eyes piqued at Rob MacIntyre's comment, and not in an especially positive manner. Fearing for her own, she got up and coughed, saying to Premier MacIntyre, "If I may." He then said calmly, "Go ahead."

Junko turned to Prime Minister Elleayovski, and said simply, crossing her arms and with a skeptical tone, "I recognize fair and fully that the Coredians will accept this. And, I know the Comrade Premier will too. But what about my people, the People's Acolytes? I don't imagine, Woodians being Woodians, that their definition of Jedi will just extend to Force users from Coredia."

OOC: Might wanna edit that, the yaslamiri are still there. Forgot to mention that, my bad--stupid Human Evo homework!
OOC: I'm not saying he's using the Mind Trick. I said he's a specialist in the technique and knows that if the Woodians didn't use ysalamari, they would be suspectable to someone like him, especially in the interviews. There's a difference.

OOC: I'm not saying he's using the Mind Trick. I said he's a specialist in the technique and knows that if the Woodians didn't use ysalamari, they would be suspectable to someone like him, especially in the interviews. There's a difference.

OOC: Gotcha. Apologies for the misunderstanding, that has been edited out and replaced with my post for the day.

Premier MacIntyre didn't say much. He shrugged and said, "I suppose if the Coredians agree to it, then I have no problem with it either." His face betrayed an irritance at the whole business, and he seemed rather nonchalant about the matter.

Junko was different. Her eyes piqued at Rob MacIntyre's comment, and not in an especially positive manner. Fearing for her own, she got up and coughed, saying to Premier MacIntyre, "If I may." He then said calmly, "Go ahead."

Junko turned to Prime Minister Elleayovski, and said simply, crossing her arms and with a skeptical tone, "I recognize fair and fully that the Coredians will accept this. And, I know the Comrade Premier will too. But what about my people, the People's Acolytes? I don't imagine, Woodians being Woodians, that their definition of Jedi will just extend to Force users from Coredia."

"I wish to remind you, Sensei, that New Dornalia does not grant extraterritoriality or any of its associated legal immunities to Jedi, either," the Prime Minister reminded her. "It will be somewhat more difficult for Acolytes to get into the country, yes, but given your...more stringent standards of training, I would hope that denied visas for Acolytes would be a rarity. Once inside the country, the only restrictions the Acolytes would notice that are not already in effect here would be bans against the use of very specific, very Ebolus-esque Force powers that Woodian society considers too revolting for public consumption. There are three off the top of my head, I believe, Crush, Choke, and Drain, none of which an Acolyte would have any legitimate business using in Evil Woody Thoughts anyway."

Turning her attention to Master Blayden, she added, "If your nation is indeed willing to accept this, I believe we can move on to discussions with the Clans."

Turning her attention to Master Blayden, she added, "If your nation is indeed willing to accept this, I believe we can move on to discussions with the Clans."
"Yes, I'm sure we are willing to accept these restrictions. There should be no need for a Jedi to use such techniques in Woodian space." Master Blayden nodded.

Junko then nodded and said with her trademark, girlish smile, "Then I have no objections either." The smile was cheerful, but it also contained a tinge of "That better be the case," directed at Elleayovskii. The Woodian Prime Minister was not one of her favorite people to be around, a real pão-duro individual as her mom would have put it. Stingy would be the most proper English rendering of that. Not that she let that slip in her expressions.

MacIntyre then got up as she sat down, saying "Right. Now that we have concluded this business...."

He then turned to Jaime Kerensky, and asked him, "Star Colonel? I believe you had business you wanted to discuss?"

"That is correct, Comrade Premier," Jaime stated, his deep, booming voice reverberating in the room. He also now seemed to be a helluva lot more intimidating that when he had first arrived. "My ilKhan has been lead to believe that it is possible that the Core Worlds will seek damages in regards to our invasion of Caligula. While he would quite like to make these reparations, under the circumstances of our invasion, this is not possible. Our economy has been in shambles for decades, and the invasion of Caligula was an attempt to find a suitable planet, whether populated or not, and take control of it, strip it of its resources, and move on the next nearest planet and repeat the process. However, we had not expected to land within another galaxy entirely, as the coordinates that we had entered into the wormhole generator had meant to open a wormhole on the opposite side of the Milky Way Galaxy from our own space to a well-known sector we had prospected several millenia ago, but had abandoned after the Third Exodus.

"Under these circumstances, I have been ordered by my ilKhan to announce that, in light of our economic plight, we shall render our military services to the Core Worlds as a means of payment for all damages incurred upon the Caligula system.

"With that aside, I have also been given the authority to open trade discussions with all three respective governments that are currently present, should they so wish to open such trade routes. However, I have certain specifications that must be met in order for such trade routes to proceed, provide, that is, you all are willing to open such agreements..."

"Under these circumstances, I have been ordered by my ilKhan to announce that, in light of our economic plight, we shall render our military services to the Core Worlds as a means of payment for all damages incurred upon the Caligula system.

"With that aside, I have also been given the authority to open trade discussions with all three respective governments that are currently present, should they so wish to open such trade routes. However, I have certain specifications that must be met in order for such trade routes to proceed, provide, that is, you all are willing to open such agreements..."

MacIntyre and Junko looked at one another. The Clans who had initially touched off this whole affair with their raid into Coredian space evidently wanted to make nice, but as the old Dornalian saying went, "were a dollar short." The idea of mercenaries as tribute was not as surprising to them as one would expect--in the dark times of the Stalinist Era, before the total unification of Earth, precedent had existed for such things. It still took them back some, but they were glad the Clans, who seemed like nice enough people, albeit militaristic, were willing to make restitution.

Then again, that was Coredia's decision to make right now, not Dornalia's.

As for trade--well, the Clans didn't cause the Dornalian state any problems, aside from the indirect effect of the Kipper Affair--which was mostly the fault of a rogue Coredian Jedi. Besides, it was always good to get dialogue going, and it seemed like the Clans had much to offer.

MacIntyre and Junko then said all at once, "We'd like to--"

They then looked at one another, and tried to resist laughing at the stereophonic nature of the reply. Then, MacIntyre coughed and said, "Apologies. Anywho, it is as we said. The Workers State would like to open trade with the Clans, maybe get a small dialogue going of sorts."

"Under these circumstances, I have been ordered by my ilKhan to announce that, in light of our economic plight, we shall render our military services to the Core Worlds as a means of payment for all damages incurred upon the Caligula system.

"With that aside, I have also been given the authority to open trade discussions with all three respective governments that are currently present, should they so wish to open such trade routes. However, I have certain specifications that must be met in order for such trade routes to proceed, provide, that is, you all are willing to open such agreements..."
"Interesting." Harry Blayden only said of the idea of the Clans being mercenaries for Coredia. It would certainly help boost their military prowess. He'll have to speak with Lowbacca and Daniel about that, as they're the military experts of the Council, Lowbacca the Defense Minister, and Daniel being Daniel. "We'll leave the issue of repayment to Caligula for later. We are willing, however, to open trade agreements. What do you have in mind?"

"Resources, specifically," Jaime continued. "We are quite lacking in mineral wealth, as we have dried up our mines over the last few centuries. Thus being the case, our military production has come to a stand still. We can not produce as many ships as we used to in our, for lack of a better term, glory days. However, due to our Maho Caste's uncanny ability to gather information within a short period of time, we have come to understand that there are several organizations and nations that you share hostilities with, and the Council of Khans feels that they could be a threat to our people's security.

"Thus is where I cut to the chase: because of the paranoia of our Khans, they have ordered me to set down a specific set of terms. If trade relations do open between us and any of your respective nations, under the pretense of security, we must demand that only our ships transport any goods between our nations. Furthermore, immigration is strictly prohibited. To drive that point home, under no circumstances are any craft from the nations of Coredia, Woodia, or New Dornalia, or any of their allies, allowed to enter Clan-held territory unless strict permission is given. To further drive this point home, any parties found to be trespassing upon this rule will have henceforth sacrificed their freedom and shall become bondsmen, only to serve within the confines of the Laborer Caste. Those who attempt escape have forfeited their lives, and will be killed without mercy, whether they are caught or not. To wit, those who do manage to escape are demanded to be caught and await retrieval by our Warrior Caste. In essence, we demand extraterritoriality of any party we find to have broken these terms.

"Finally, as the last term we shall be laying down upon the proverbial table, we demand that no official records be kept of our existance, or any contact that you make with our people in any form or fashion be recorded. Any recordings made, whether by civilians or military, are to be seized, and either sealed or destroyed. If sealed, those records must be kept within the confines of the highest intelligence bureau and are not to be made auditable to the public in any way, shape, or form."

Prime Minister Elleayovskii stroked her chin at the innumerable contradictions in the Clanner's words. True to their reputation, diplomats, they were not.

"Ahem. Extraterritoriality is irrelevant if you do not allow anyone within your borders to apply it to. If no immigrants are admitted to your territory...well, then there are no immigrants to have extraterritoriality, are there? Perhaps you meant to demand extradition of those found to enter your territory without consent, and subsequently leave via whatever means? Those that enter your territory subject themselves to your laws. And punishments. Freely, or they would not enter in the first place. Extraterritoriality would have been aforesaid people being subjected to the laws of the origin nation, rather than yours, and I do not think that is what you meant. Likewise, it would be impossible for us to extend that kind of privilege to Clanners in our territory. Admiral Makaryk explained to you our national history. In light of aforesaid history...those who enter Evil Woody Thoughts must agree to abide by our law, or they will be likewise be denied entry into the country."

"Now, if you meant to demand an extradition of people who trespass into your territory and flee to ours...now that can be done. And regarding the 'no records of existence' bit--it is too late. The Clanners have already found their way into news reports from Coredia and Evil Woody Thoughts alike over what happened at Caligula. The populace of both nations already know of your existence, even if not much more, and Evil Woody Thoughts already holds many, many records of Clan culture, technology, and society from...third-party sources. Now that said...I do believe we have substantially underutilized industrial capacity, and undeveloped deposits of raw materials, that you could benefit from. The civil war has left us with a severe labor shortage."

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

OOC: I assume the sloppiness with diplomatic terms is due to your typing your post at 3:30 in the morning. If you want to edit, do so and poke me to let me know.

"That is correct," Jaime said, feeling somewhat foolish. "I believe I have just lived up to our reputation as lacking in political apptitude. However, I doubt that it will effect our discussions. Moving along..."

Jaime picked up his glass of water, taking a sip before continuing. "We can supply the necesary labor force to supplement your nation's industry as well as our own. Sixty percent of all industrial output will be directed to you, while forty percent to ourselves. Is this satisfactory?"

"I simply needed to clarify that," the Prime Minister nodded. "Such an arrangement should be acceptable to the Parliament."

"I would say that is a satisfactory arrangement for the Senate and our own Clans to ratify. Allowing them to get the bigger half of the pie, so to speak, will ensure that lingering sentiment over Caligula will disappear more quickly." Harry Blayden nodded. "I will have to agree with the Prime Minister on the fact that your Clans have already been noticed by the galactic media. So long as your location is kept secret, though we would be able to write off any stragglers into your nation as an acceptable loss, considering the usual dangers of flying in outer space."

"Wonderful," Jaime said. "This makes things all the more easier on us, as we do not have to worry about incursions made into our territory by any military force.

"Also, should the need for military instructors be necessary by any of the present parties, I would be honored to provide our top instructors."

((This is in reference to the Mech training that Dornie received, although anyone may reply to this.))

"Resources, specifically," Jaime continued. "We are quite lacking in mineral wealth, as we have dried up our mines over the last few centuries. Thus being the case, our military production has come to a stand still. We can not produce as many ships as we used to in our, for lack of a better term, glory days. However, due to our Maho Caste's uncanny ability to gather information within a short period of time, we have come to understand that there are several organizations and nations that you share hostilities with, and the Council of Khans feels that they could be a threat to our people's security.

"Thus is where I cut to the chase: because of the paranoia of our Khans, they have ordered me to set down a specific set of terms. If trade relations do open between us and any of your respective nations, under the pretense of security, we must demand that only our ships transport any goods between our nations. Furthermore, immigration is strictly prohibited. To drive that point home, under no circumstances are any craft from the nations of Coredia, Woodia, or New Dornalia, or any of their allies, allowed to enter Clan-held territory unless strict permission is given. To further drive this point home, any parties found to be trespassing upon this rule will have henceforth sacrificed their freedom and shall become bondsmen, only to serve within the confines of the Laborer Caste. Those who attempt escape have forfeited their lives, and will be killed without mercy, whether they are caught or not. To wit, those who do manage to escape are demanded to be caught and await retrieval by our Warrior Caste. In essence, we demand extraterritoriality of any party we find to have broken these terms.

"Finally, as the last term we shall be laying down upon the proverbial table, we demand that no official records be kept of our existance, or any contact that you make with our people in any form or fashion be recorded. Any recordings made, whether by civilians or military, are to be seized, and either sealed or destroyed. If sealed, those records must be kept within the confines of the highest intelligence bureau and are not to be made auditable to the public in any way, shape, or form."

MacIntyre and Junko nodded, and then began to speak. MacIntyre went first, and Junko just sat and watched.

"An interesting arrangement you propose. Not unprecedented, considering that on our world there have been similarly stringent arrangements arranged before the Apocalypse that consumed the Earth. I need a moment though."

They then began whispering to one anotherin hushed tones for several minutes. Eventually, MacIntyre got back up and said, "Right, we will take the offer. Though we are concerned about the fact people know of the Clans already via the news and your anti-foreign requirments are somewhat harsh, given your leadership's desire for security and self-determination, we figure that it's their laws to enforce, not ours. So, we will agree to keep our people out unless you want them there, and let you handle the cargo."

Junko then replied, "But, there is that issue of media exposure. Then again, Dornalia is willing to follow the Coredian solution and conceal your location from the Star Charts, among other acts. Otherwise, we agree to your terms."

MacIntyre and Junko were intrigued at the mention of military advisors. Junko then looked at each other and said, "Advisors?" MacIntyre looked at the Star Colonel, then Junko, then Jaime.

He then began to speak.

"Well, we always did need to fill in the gaps between the Navy's Mobile Suits and heavy armor--the former being heavily modified and phased out--and infantry level powered armor. We have heard about the capacities of these 'Mechs the Woodians and the Gaians seemed to use, and your forces of the Clans do seem to share the use of mecha. Therefore, we'd like you to help us maybe get up to speed and help fill in a niche that we need to have filled in, like with a large sized war walker such as the 'Mech."

"Very well," Jaime replied. "I will direct Master Eishun and Fate Averruncus to assist you in these manners, as well as a shipment of 'Mechs to start you off, plus the production plans necessary to maintain your own factories. I would, however, like to request that, in return, we be given this 'hyperdrive' that we have heard of in the past, preferably several units, as we wish to incorporate this new faster-than-light technology into our fold."

((This post references a prior RP that Dornie and I did several months ago.))

"Very well," Jaime replied. "I will direct Master Eishun and Fate Averruncus to assist you in these manners, as well as a shipment of 'Mechs to start you off, plus the production plans necessary to maintain your own factories. I would, however, like to request that, in return, we be given this 'hyperdrive' that we have heard of in the past, preferably several units, as we wish to incorporate this new faster-than-light technology into our fold."

((This post references a prior RP that Dornie and I did several months ago.))

The two Dornalians looked at one another, and then nodded. MacIntyre then looked at Jaime and replied, "That's not a problem. We can easily hook you up with several examples of the Pinball Wizard-class FTL system. It an be called "hyperdrive," though around here we use that more as a colloquialism--the official title is a Bosun Jump drive. Name aside, it's an efficent, effective method useful for making long distance jumps."

OOC: Come on guys, let's finish these negotiations. My impression is that nothing being said atm is directed at my PM, so I've been waiting for others to post all this time...

((Sorry, by my grandma's in Nazi-mode because it's finals week, so posts will be few and far between this week. I'll try to get one in here.))

"Names mean little to us, Comrade Premier," Jaime replied. "So long as it works, and works efficiently, we are content with it.

"Now, I suggest we move on to other business, shall we not?"

((Sorry, by my grandma's in Nazi-mode because it's finals week, so posts will be few and far between this week. I'll try to get one in here.))

"Names mean little to us, Comrade Premier," Jaime replied. "So long as it works, and works efficiently, we are content with it.

"Now, I suggest we move on to other business, shall we not?"

"Indeed, a good idea," Prime Minister Elleayovskii replied. "I believe you mentioned something about running out of raw materials. Evil Woody Thoughts has several underutilized moons in our primary system, as well as claims on four nearby uncolonized systems. I do believe it would be possible for us to allow you to do some mining, and many ores can be further duplicated by industrial replicators. However, we do ask that you observe environmental regulations...our Exodus was driven by severe and drastic climate change resulting from overpollution. Industrial replicators can more than make up for the lost yields due to the regulations."

The Prime Minister smiled, as she got to the good part. "Nationwide, our industrial utilization is only seventy-nine percent of capacity, due to civil war-related population loss. Hell, our shipyards currently only operate at about forty percent, if I recall correctly. I do believe it would be possible for us to come to an arrangement to utilize the fifth of factories currently idle, plus give us reason to build new industry again. We provide the capital and raw materials, you provide the labor..."

A smile sprouted across her face. It was not often that the Prime Minister enjoyed her job...

Meanwhile, on White Diamond...

He gave another nod. "We would be honored. You have but to inform us of when and where the funeral shall be held, and we will be there as you ask." He gave a momentary pause, and looked up into the sky for a moment, then back to Keith and gave a wry smile. "We admit that we were not expecting to take on this responsibility. We were crafted originally for the specific purpose of dealing with that paperwork, but we suppose hearing of these terrible deaths, and our offering of the hymn, has given us a new purpose. The Legion has seen fit to bestow us with a name befitting our new 'jurisdiction'. Barachiel, the Messenger. The names of Angels are reserved to the leaders of various sectors of civilian interaction. We think we have been... promoted."

"I will let you know," Colonel Allaire replied, bowing to take his leave. As he left the site, young Samuel, soon to be Samuel Allaire, jumped on his arm. Keith needed only fill out shitloads of paperwork to get Aidan's remains transferred to him, and speak to Admiral Makaryk about it, and it would be done...

But as he filled out aforesaid paperwork, his mind started to wander. The feeling was almost alien to him, as he had a reputation for extraordinary concentration to uphold. But slowly...memories...started drifting into his mind.

As if returning.

Childhood memories, mostly of schoolwork (given his educational background), but also of other things. More fun things, such as hockey games, hiking, and camping as a kid in his spare time. No wonder he was such a rockclimber now... he always had been. But with his memories severed at the point of his mindrape at the hands of Ebolus, he could not know. Not even the Order's best healers had been able to repair that.

Until now.

Keith blissfully let the wandering memories fill his mind...

(OOC: I know it's kinda meh, but it's getting late and I'm too tired to write this shit.)

"That works perfectly," Jaime replied, sipping his drink as he thought of the Woodian Prime Minister to be almost as prideful and full of grandeur, much like he remembered the Inner Sphere houses to be. "We have a surplus labor force, as the Laborer caste has had little to do since we ran out of resources. This would be a good opportunity to put them back in line and get their minds on their work rather than complaining about day-to-day life."

"That works perfectly," Jaime replied, sipping his drink as he thought of the Woodian Prime Minister to be almost as prideful and full of grandeur, much like he remembered the Inner Sphere houses to be. "We have a surplus labor force, as the Laborer caste has had little to do since we ran out of resources. This would be a good opportunity to put them back in line and get their minds on their work rather than complaining about day-to-day life."

MacIntyre decided to throw in his own offer into the pot, hearing Elleayovskii speak.

"We also would like to contribute to easing your raw materials shortage. We have significantly larger territory than the Woodians--no offense to them--and as a result command plenty of resource-rich worlds that are tapped and untapped. Given our high level of technology, we're pretty efficent at using them, so we have a good surplus for export. Perhaps we could export some to you? We could either do it under a similar arrangement, or harvest them and allow you to pick them up. It's really up to you."

Prime Minister Elleayovskii nodded, sensing that Jaime didn't particularly like her. She had been a bit...blunt about the requirement of following the environmental laws, and this requirement no doubt came as an arrogant demand to Clanners who had no sense of the context in which they were enacted.

Softening her legalese-look, she asked Jaime, rather directly, "Did Admiral Makaryk have an opportunity to inform you of the origin of the Woodian Exodus?"

Meanwhile, the Prime Minister ignored MacIntyre's little dig at her nation, knowing he was probably drunk, and made a mental note to delegate foreign affairs concerning Clanners to military or retired military from here on out, insofar as possible...

Jaime nodded at MacIntyre's statement, and then procured a small device out of his pocket. It then turned into a large data scroll, and Jaime casually slid it to the Dornalian. "Pick three of all classes of 'Mech in this list. Forward me what you want, and thirty percent of the resources you send me will be turned into the 'Mechs and sent to you on a regular basis."

He then turned back to the Woodian woman. "I have a vague idea of what happened. At this time, I do not feel like being given an old-style college lecture on what happened. If you would please forward any relevant data you think we must learn about your nation and people, we shall make sure that the Maho, Scientist, Laborer, Tech, and Merchant Castes educate themselves. This statement also applies to New Dornalia and Coredia."

Jaime nodded at MacIntyre's statement, and then procured a small device out of his pocket. It then turned into a large data scroll, and Jaime casually slid it to the Dornalian. "Pick three of all classes of 'Mech in this list. Forward me what you want, and thirty percent of the resources you send me will be turned into the 'Mechs and sent to you on a regular basis."

He then turned back to the Woodian woman. "I have a vague idea of what happened. At this time, I do not feel like being given an old-style college lecture on what happened. If you would please forward any relevant data you think we must learn about your nation and people, we shall make sure that the Maho, Scientist, Laborer, Tech, and Merchant Castes educate themselves. This statement also applies to New Dornalia and Coredia."

Junko snatched the Mech list from MacIntyre, glaring at him for his slightly inappropriate statement. MacIntyre rolled his eyes, as she picked a few models after sorting through the list like a kid in a candy store. "Awesome," she said. "I do love giant robots."

She eventually picked out a preliminary list, showing it to Robby. He wasn't drunk, having been deprived of alcohol, but he was by now beginning to show subtle signs of alcohol withdrawal. Looking at the list, he nodded, looking through it, and then saying, "Junko, not a bad set of choices. But, I'm gonna swap out a few of these. First of all, no one's gonna take a mech that looks like an American Indian stereotype seriously. Second of all, I'm looking for something good for assault and long range firepower....here we are...."

Using what he did learn from his two years in the Red Army, he then revised the list and picked the following out, which he handed to Jaime.

"Assault:

Mad Cat Mk. 2, Sunder, and Kodiak

Heavy:

Cauldron Born, Catapult, Rifleman,

Medium:

Uziel, Daimyo, Bushwacker.

Light:

Gurkha, Owens, Uller"

"Here we are, here's our choices." He then produced another datapad, and said, "Also, here's a basic factbook about our people for the Castes to learn about our people from (http://skaugra.proboards55.com/index.cgi#dornalia1)."

Prime Minister Elleayovskii did not interfere with the Dornalians' glee at the opportunity to procure 'Mechs at all, instead choosing to remain quiet. Though she knew that many of the chassis on the negotiating table, and probably the technology with which they were equipped, were well outdated, she said nothing, well aware that the Clan representative already figured her to be some pompous, leaching, prima donna Inner Sphere politician ass. She didn't want to make the same kinds of boasts that MacIntyre had and come across as even more so. Whilst Junko rebuked MacIntyre for his gaffe, and the Clan representative proved less than helpful as well, the Prime Minister casually pulled out a blank four-inch-by-two-inch datapad and tapped a few commands into it.

The result was a download of a few terabytes of data from the Woodian National Archives, conveniently in searchable, wikified format such that the user of the datapad could obtain information on practically anything pertaining to Evil Woody Thoughts that wasn't classified, at practically any level of detail. A search for "Exodus," for example, would first turn up a disambiguation page to separate the Woodian Exodus from the known (to Woodians) Clan Exodus, and a further tap on the entry for Woodian Exodus would reveal at first a synopsis not too much longer than the one that Admiral Makaryk had debriefed Jamie on earlier. However, if the user dug just a little deeper, just a couple more clicks, aforesaid user could find everything from climatology records of the time (a sudden--within a decade--climate change from subtropical to boreal caused crop yields to crash), pollution records, editorials from the time, hell even transcripts and recordings of Parliament sessions over what to do. Through the intricate network of hyperlinks downloaded from the Archives, any Clanner wondering why in the hell Woodians would limit industry for a few trees would soon see how the Woodian Exodus and environmental laws were intricately related.

Perhaps more importantly, the Archives would reveal to a large extent how much the Woodians knew of the Clans...which was quite a bit, at least up until shortly before trueborns started accepting the common use of contractions. Which might explain why the Prime Minister and every other Woodian Clanners had been around thus far scrupulously avoided using them. Fortunately the Archives did not just release classified information so easily--not even to the Prime Minister--so information on current military status and other sensitive issues appeared nowhere on the datapad.

Figuring that any Clanner who wandered into a public library could download this stuff anyway, the Prime Minister fiddled with it for a few seconds, setting the thing to what basically amounted to a read-only setting that would prevent alteration to the data (filtering and direct copying, however, remained possible) before casually sliding it over to Jaime. "As much, or as little, information as you wish, scalable to caste and any other criteria you find necessary."

Jaime nodded to the Woodian woman, retrieving the pad from her. He then handed the collected data pads to one of his Elementals, who had just come in not more than ten minutes ago. Jaime barked something in Celtic to the Elemental, to which everyone would hear the Elemental's reply as being, "Aff, Star Colonel Jaime Kerensky."

As the Elemental retreated to do what he was told, Jaime returned his attention to the assembled delegates. "I do not believe I have much else to say. I shall provide limited information about our recent history since we have disappeared. As for military statistics and data, well, I will have to reply in a like fashion as the Prime Minister had stated about the Woodian people."