NationStates Jolt Archive

[OOC: Just as a matter of convention, I'd like only peaceful replies, please. You'll understand why if you read the thread, if not already understanding by the title.

Tribute System

It was all the SASM's fault...All of it...
Black space. Black hulls. Black hearts.
Empty space. Filled hulls. Empty hearts. Empty minds.

The blue and white flag of Vuhifell proudly painted on every vessel. Men and women and children huddled together in cargo holds and sleeping quarters. They barely had enough room for the terraforming equipment and regular cargo.

As they travelled through space, more vessels started emerging from slipspace - the rest of the fleet.

Civilian craft. Military shuttles. Even a cruise ship were present. There was silence for a long time, before someone eventually broke the silence.

"All ships, salute!"

Instantly, every ship in the system turned to face the same direction: their former home. Vuhifell...

Seven Hours Earlier
Vuhifell System

"Initiate Operation Judgement Day!"

A large explosion, and a planet formerly covered in cities, forests, oceans, and life...was now a star. Burning wildly before exploding and sending her debris in every direction.

Present

The SASM had taken everything from them. Their homeworld. Their citizens. Their children. Everything!

But after seven random jumps and a coordinated meeting point in the Tribute System, they were confident the SASM were gone. Dr. Iccard had given her life to the betterment of her people, the Director would make sure she was catapulted into Exalted Sainthood one day...But before that, he had urgent matters to attend to: such as the lack of any homeworld and a population without any food.

"Attention, peoples of the galaxy...this is Director Keiichi Morisato of the Vuhifellian Federation. We...have just lost out homeworld to a devastating race known as the SASM. We are all that remains of our species...please...I-I am begging humbly for the aid and assistance of anyone who can help."

With just under a million citizens left, out of a population of seven billion, it would take all the help they could get to return to normal...if 'normal' even exists.

The Kostemetsian civil starship Good Cause sped into the system.

Just before the destruction of Vuhifell, the captain of the Good Cause, James Jackson, had extracted Samantha Iccard from the secret ONI base Mount Olympia. Several hours later, he had re-entered the system, scanned for debris, then followed the Vuhifellian fleet's Slipspace signature to Tribute.

A transmission crackled over the systemwide radio band.
"Director Morisato, this is Captain James Jackson. I am a Kostemetsian serving in the Vuhifellian Navy, and I would like to offer my help and support in turning the Government's eyes to your plight."

The face of Grand Admiral Steven Graves appeared on the 'flagship's' viewscreen,

"Director Director Keiichi Morisato, this is Grand Admiral Steven Graves of the Dominion Starfleet. Your message has been received and a task force is enroute to escort you to Dominion space where you will allowed a safe staging area on a recently terraformed class 'M' planet originally intended as a colony," his face softened, "I think we can delay our original plans. We're far enough away that these 'SASM' will not be able to follow without a proper welcome waiting for them.

ETA on the force is approximately ten minutes, Graves out."

Before the Vuhifellians could wonder how a fleet from a 'safe distance' could arrive in ten minutes, a large, red wormhole opened before them and twenty ships poured forth.
10 Salvage/tugboat vessels
5 Raven Class Capital Ships (http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y90/DominionofRS/p2prototype.jpg)
4 Omega Cruisers (http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y90/DominionofRS/battleshipside.jpg)
1 Falcon Class Ship of the Line (http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y90/DominionofRS/FalconclassSotL.jpg)

Immediately they were hailed again, "Vuhifellian fleet this is Commodore Frederick Perry of Dominion Task Force Alpha Zeta. We're here to provide escort back to Dominion space via artificial wormhole. I apologize for the show of force but you did say you were fleeing a hostile race.

Our warships will remain on guard while you pass through where our President is waiting to receive you. We've brought tugs in case you have vessels unable to move under their own power. Please acknowledge."

The Good Cause scanned the wormhole and determined its exit coordinates, injecting itself into another wormhole at half the speed of light and appearing at the new system about a minute before the rest of the fleet.

Jackson opened up the wormhole radio, or woradio, band, transmitting back to the office of the Kostemetsian Minister of Defence, Bruno Sciacelli.

"Minister, I have just witnessed something horrifying."
Jackson! We thought you were dead!
"No, I'm not dead. And I have information with the gravest implications."
Tell me. the Minister ordered, immediately snapping into business mode.
Jackson forwarded his log of the SASM destroying Vuhifell. It comprised about sixty seconds of data.
My God... it's merciless... said the Minister quietly.
"I'm assisting in relocating about a million citizens of that planet. I'm currently far beyond the bounds of the Republic, but I need your help. Please nullify Commodore Roberts' orders regarding the Vuhifellians; we need to relocate these people, or else the deaths of a civilisation would be our responsibility."
I'll sign the forms immediately. Sciacelli out.

Just as the Director was about to respond, the remainder of the once proud Vuhifellian fleet had arrived in the system. Thirteen corvettes, four frigates (http://unscdf.planethalo.gamespy.com/images/Frigate.jpg), and a single light cruiser...

"This is Fleet Admiral Harper," the admiral winced as a medical doctor treated a large gash on his forehead, "Any friendlies in-system?"

"Admiral! We thought you were dead!" replied a rather shocked Morisato.

"No...we initiated Operation: Judgement Day. Blew up our own homeworld, but we destroyed their entire fleet, sir."

"Good, at least you killed the bastards. How many of your ships can move?"

"Not a lot, sir. All thirteen corvettes have lost power to their standard fusion engines. It's a miracle we made it to the system in one piece..."

"Roger that...Commodore Perry, it seems that thirteen of our own warships are unable to move through normal space. Could you please provide assistance? We will be following your waypoint via our navigation computer."

A flash of light later and a warship appeared from warp into standard space. However, it was in far from perfect condition however, fire was pouring along one side and it seemed to be missing much of it's weaponry and many of the decks were wide open to the harshness of space. A small occasional explosion ripped through a small section of the vessel and it was clearly in distress.

A message was broadcast into open space

"TO: Any Friendly ships

This is the Alversian People's Ship Amendment. We have been badly damaged in a battle with the SASM and our ship is starting to fall apart. We need urgent and immediate assistance from any and all friendly vessels

Captain John Denvir
APS Amendment"

Aboard the bridge of the Valiant, a console chimed and the sensor operator turned in his chair, "Commodore we have another vessel jumping in-system sending communications of some kind. Could be these SASM the Vuhifellians were talking about, they don't register in any of our databanks."

"There are so many new races appearing daily there's no way of knowing; truly the universe is grand yet terrible place," the Commodore replied thoughtfully, then, "Open a channel to them. It's only one ship."

"Channel open sir."

"Unknown vessel I am Commodore Frederick Perry of the Dominion Starfleet, currently responding to a distress call. If you are affiliated with a race called the SASM, be advised that any and all peoples of the Vuhifellian race are now under protection of the Dominion, and we don't take hostility lightly."

As he said this, two of the twin heavy plasma turrets on Valiant's port quarter turned to face the vessel, red motes of light visible down each of the four barrels. At the same time, a Phalanx Torpedo bombardment pod opened, revealing its deadly payload of fifty torpedoes.

OOC: A little stats check on the Falcon class:
Falcon Class Ship of the Line (battleship)
The Dominion's premier warship built in response to the developing trend of most vessels to simply sit one place, bombarding each other until one side buckles. Five are currently in active service with an additional two under construction.

Length: 5 km
Width: 1.25 km
Height: .75 km
Armor: 4.5 foot thick tritanium battleplate with ablative outer layer
Shields: Hyperphasic Energy Absorbing Shield Grid Mark 10.5 (making it very vulnerable to kinetic weapons but this is strictly OOC knowledge)
Power Source: Quantum singularity core
Weapons: 18 twin heavy plasma turrets, 10 plasma torpedo tubes, one conventional torpedo capable, 50 Phalanx torpedo array bombardment pods, 20 turbolaser batteries
Special weapons: 1 antimatter torpedo
Crew: 5000, 25 pilots
Fighters: 10 Advanced Gunship Fighters, 5 Phoenix Dropships
Engines: Rear Gravitic Thruster drive
FTL: Artificial Wormhole Generator

From The Department of International Affairs:

The Dictator of Talentay would like all of the citizens The Vuhifellian States to live in a refugee camp that has been prepared for this type of situation. We will provide food, shelter, and protection.

Signed:
The Head of The Department of International Affairs

"Commodore Perry, this is Captain Jackson. Please power down your weapons - the Alversians pose no threat, and were an instrumental part of the defence against the SASM."

Jackson signed off, happy that he hadn't had to use any of the Kostemetsian staryacht's hidden weaponry.

As more ONI Prowlers, stealth intelligence vessels, made their way into the system, a woman with a harsh voice eventually sent a communication to the Good Cause.

"Captain Jackson! Is it you! I thought you had died when Mount Olympus fell! I was the woman that took you back to Olympia, Lieutenant Commander Shirley Fexton. It would seem...because of our obvious predicament, that I shall drop all charges against you for the destruction of the Ceres. But...you haven't happened to have seen a blonde haired, green-eyed woman when you left Olympia, did you? I hope she's alright. She's very important to us."

"Unknown vessel I am Commodore Frederick Perry of the Dominion Starfleet, currently responding to a distress call. If you are affiliated with a race called the SASM, be advised that any and all peoples of the Vuhifellian race are now under protection of the Dominion, and we don't take hostility lightly."

"What? Sir, they cannot be serious!" An Ensign gasped from the ruins of the Amendment's bridge, "They think WE are SASM?"

"Enough, Ensign. They clearly do not recognise our ship type, as we do not recognise theirs. Send another message to them, and stablize decks 4 & 5. I want to come out of this with some crew left" John Denvir spoke quietly from his chair

"Aye, Sir. Channel opened, Decks are stabilzing for now"

"TO: Commodore Perry

I'm afraid you have misguessed our role in this entirely. We are a part of the Alversian Deep Space Fleet attatched to Vuhifell only a few days ago. We were recalled to Alversia to combat the SASM invasion but the Deep Space Fleet was destroyed. We managed to escape but we are badly damaged. Most of my crew is dead and our ship is starting to collapse

Captain John Denvir
APS Amendment

"I hope they understand better this time" The Ensign muttered under his breath

Immediately Valiant's weapons returned to stationkeeping and the Commodore's expression softened, "Thank God, a fight was the last thing I wanted. Good to see friendly faces here."

OOC:Kostemetsia, that was at you. Alversia and I are allies. Either way, intentions cleared.

IC:
He then replied to the Vuhifellians, "We're dispatching tugs now. Drydocks are waiting on the other side of the wormhole to affect repairs."

The ten tugs then broke formation, doubling ships up where necessary, and set course for the entrance as the warships set up perimeter.

"I don't know what aid we can offer in terms of military support; our fleet is conducting operations elsewhere with one of our flagship's busy as well, but the planet Alterra Seven is yours for as long as you need it and your vessels will be looked after."

He then opened a channel to the rest of the newly arrived vessels, "If all of you are indeed defenders of these people, you are welcome to come along as well. It sounds like you had a hell of a fight and are welcome to use our space to rest and refit. I'll alert the Antares Fleet Yards to ready more drydocks."

OOC: That's it for me for now unfortunately, I'll post the reception tomorrow.

[OOC: No problem.]

"Roger. This is the Vuhifellian prowler vessel, Akagi, we have several more civilian craft arriving in this system soon. Outbound refugees from before our homeworld was attacked. Shall we remain in this system to alert them of the new waypoint coordinates?"

"Commodore. This is Fleet Admiral Harper. I had to make the tough call of destroying my own planet...but we are forever in your debt."

Slowly, the military and civilian vessels that could move made their way to the wormhole. It had been a long, bloody fight, but they were finally safe.

He then opened a channel to the rest of the newly arrived vessels, "If all of you are indeed defenders of these people, you are welcome to come along as well. It sounds like you had a hell of a fight and are welcome to use our space to rest and refit. I'll alert the Antares Fleet Yards to ready more drydocks."


"Negative, Commodore, our ship is breaking up. We will not make it to the planet"

The bridge was rocked as another explosion cut through some unseen deck
"Ensign! Report!" Denvir called

"That's really done it, Sir, Decks 7 through to 13 have been breached and there is no way to contain it. She's breaking up!"

Denvir did not hesitate, "This is the Captain to all surviving crewman. Abandon ship, I repeat, All hands abandon ship" He called over the intercom system.

"Gentlemen, to your shuttles" The Bridge crew left their stations headed down to where the escape pods were located. Their faithful old ship was starting to creak and crack as her hard worn joints finally started to unravel.

A few minutes later, about two dozen Escape Pods jettisoned from the side of the now disintergrating Destroyer. A few more minutes and the hull was ripped in two by a massive explosion from her mid-section.

"This is Captain Denvir. We have twenty two Escape Pods that need immediate assistance"

The remainder of their old ship just floated away, the only survivor of the Deep Space Fleet had been claimed by the SASM.

"Commodore Perry, please stand by for arrival of five Kostemetsian defence cruisers. I am leading this task group."

A second later, five blue wormholes appeared at the edge of the system. Out of each one slid a sleek Kostemetsian defence vessel. The turrets were integrated into the structure, and the drive was invisible - the ships were propelled by raw gravospacial manipulation.

A transmission piped through the Good Cause's radio.

"This is KDFS-171 Hunter, Interim Fleet Lead. Forwarding command codes now."

The other vessels - Inemuri, Yoshiko's Revenge, Colonel Jackson, and Milne - reported to the Good Cause in quick order, then formed up behind it. When given the order, they formed a protective pentagonal formation around the wounded Vuhifellian fleet.

Back onboard the Good Cause, Jackson picked up the radio backset.

"Lieutenant Commander Fexton, if you are referring to, er... my passenger... I haven't had time to find out her name, sorry... then yes, we have her on board."

Then the Alversian destroyer exploded.

"Hunter, this is Good Cause! Make your way to the Alversian escape pods ASAP and pick them up!"

Perry received the Alversians' distress call seemingly moments before the vessel just fell apart.

"Ready a Raven to-" he was cut off by his sensor operator.

"No need sir, the Kostemetsians are already moving in," he then turned to look his commander straight in the eye, "Commodore, sir, what one race could possibly have this kind of power? There the remains of fleets from at least four races out there. Who could do this sort of thing?"

Perry met his subordinate's gaze, understanding his concern, "Mr. Vasquez, save our glorious Dominion and only because we have been almost umarred by war, I couldn't tell you. But I will say this: these SASM may be mighty, but if what has happened to our friends is any indication, they didn't come out of it unscathed.

With the exception of Task Force Talon, all fleet elements are at home and every single ship except the Saving Grace II is in prime fighting condition. Not only do I not know the foe who did this I don't care because the moment they come knocking they'll have awakened a power not incensed by foreign nations for two centuries. Our civil war was a trying time, but we have rebuilt and the government remains intact. The remnants of a fleet once charged with defending a galaxy is now concentrated in seven star systems and we are still making newer and better vessels. I dare them to test us!"

One by one, the bridge crew began to clap until it reached the level of a dull roar. The Commodore was known for his fiery and inspiring speeches, especially when morale was at risk. If he said that no harm would come to the Dominion or its friends and allies, by God they were untouchable.

He reopened a channel to the Kostemetsians, "Good show for getting to those escape pods quickly. Once they've been secured I advise we move through the wormhole. The enemy may have tracked you by now but on a more pressing matter the ship we have keeping the wormhole open can only sustain an open corridor for so long without overheating the generator. Time is of the essence and I'd rather not wait for another ship to charge its generator for another five minutes."

He then opened a channel to the Vuhifellians, "Admiral, it's no trouble. We've had our fair share of xenocidal races, which is what led to years of isolation. However, on this note the Dominion shall mark its full return to the galactic stage. It has been a slow process of making allies and establishing trade, but our main focus is to help wherever needed," his voice wavered slightly as he almost murmurred the next few words,

"Epsilon Prime is not our original homeworld and I wish I could say ours was sacrificed as valiantly. No. It sits in space surrounded by the debris of what was once Hyperion Fleet, a charred ball of slag and skeletons of what were cities, now the mass graves of billions of lives. Vast panes of charred glass cover what were lush forests and endless fields. It will forever stand as an effigy to our arrogance. It's a long story, but I think enough time has passed that I can bear telling it once we reach safety."

OOC: Could you post a link to the war thread? Sounds like I missed a huge fight.

[OOC: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=544433
The SASM arrive around Page 15 or so.]

Slowly, Vuhifellians vessels of all shapes and sizes slipped through the wormhole. Several more Vuhifellian escape ships were arriving in the system, now, but their numbers were decreasing, as were their frequency.

"Captain Jackson, this is Dr. Kyren Siriin of the Office of Naval Intelligence, please direct your space forces through the portal as you still are a member of our Navy. The ONI High Council would like to award you for your valiant efforts on Olympia."

Upon emergence they were greeted by a large contingent of Sentinel Fleet, which was in charge of defending the Dominion homefront, awaiting them in the event the enemy discovered them before the wormhole closed. To their 'left' (direction in space being relative) an azure planet pockmarked by masses of green and light brown loomed with sevral spacedocks in orbit and dozens of salvage and repair drone flitted in between the pylons.

Shuttlecraft containing the equivilant of harbor pilots lead the tugs towing the disabled vessels to drydock where drones descended on them, releasing millions of microscopic nanites. They flowed across the hulls like a gleaming silver tide, thrashing about in a frenzy as they worked to effect repairs and replicate replacement materials. This type of repair and refit always took longer, but the job was ultimately more precise and looked after down to the microscopic level.

Also in orbit were several freighters, shipping raw materials to the surface where a settlement the size of a massive city was hastily being erected. It was a grayish-silver square on an otherwise pristine planet. Because of the planet's original intent, the city was already partially filled with the tall spires that were the trademark of the Dominion civilization. Several smaller structures capped off far below them: the residential section. Many of the buildings were still locked up; most of these were shops that were not opened. Much of the area was still just flat urban sprawl that had yet to see construction. Fortunately, clean means of energy had long since been developed, allowing massive cities such as this to exist in conjunction with beautiful terraformed landscape around it.

As the Vuhifellian 'flagship' came through, they were hailed by President R.L. himself. It was a long-standing tradition that 'for security reasons' his true name was never given to anyone short of family, and only because they were grandfathered in.

"Greetings Director Keiichi Morisato and Fleet Admiral Harper. Allow me to extend my condolences for your loss. I'm sure everyone fought valiantly. For as long as you require we will give you use and ownership of planet Acheron within the Dominion Sector and access to our jump corridors. Our main concern was preparing drydock facilities and readying the planet for habitation, but as soon as possible we'll tow a jump gate here, allowing you access to the rest of our space as well as any other location you have the coordinates of.

However, we can discuss these details once everyone is through. I understand you have allies coming with you as well and they shall be given the same hospitality save ownership of the planet and as soon as they are ready we will ensure them safe passage home."

The Director sent a reply from his small civilian vessel. From what he saw, their fundamental architecture was very different from their own. That would have to be resolved at a later time, cultural matters took small priority over urgent issues at hand.

"On behalf of the people of the Vuhifellian Federation, we thank you for the use of this planet as a temporary homeworld...I apologize for any burden we are causing your economy. Rest assured, when the Federation gains her strength back, you will be a most welcome friend."

The Admiral, on the cruiser, Pacific, sent a similar reply.

"Mr. President, I know not if you are a military man, but you have gained our eternal respect and gratitude. All ships, salute! A salvo for our lost brethren, and for these hospitable people who have given us new hope!"

Simultaneously, the national anthem of the Federation began playing on all military vessels, while the ones that could move on their own power turned to face, once again, their former home of Vuhifell. This time, however, a proper salute was given, as each ship fired their MAC guns into empty space.

A tribute for their fallen world.

The President bowed his head in gratitude, "Your friendship greatly outstrips any economic burden incurred. And, Admiral, though I am not a military man my advisors in the Dominion Defense Forces and Starfleet have taught me the importance of the salute. I am deeply honored and alas have become too old to gain the opportunity to return the honor.

However, what I can offer is safety and resources. The city, we haven't named it yet and I'd be willing to yield that honor to you, I'm told is currently ready to comfortably house and accomodate roughly three quarters of your number. With round-the-clock automated construction vehicles, the rest of the residential district should be completely up and running within the next week. It has power, water, all of the essentials, but I hope your people don't mind navigating on foot for a while, as we have yet to get infrastructure up and running.

Once it is, transporter stations, magnet trains, and atmospheric shuttles will be readily available. We're sending over a map of the city, which will give you a detailed look at where everything is. Downtown is mostly government structures and parks; that's where the tallest spires are located.

The next 'tier' if you will is residential and commercial districts, and the final tier are the aeroponics facilities and utilities necessary to keep everything functioning. Of course everything currently built will be fully staffed within the next twenty-four hours. Most cultures have found our architecture...unique. I think excessive was the operative word. We design everything to promote a sense of tranquility even in urban settings. Naturally the rest of the planet is open as well and if you require any additional construction please be sure to notify the main foreman in the office here."

He hit a button on his personal padd and one of the spires on a three dimensional projection of the city lit up.

"I'll be beaming to the main spire in the center of the city to oversee operations. Perhaps we can convene our leaders-both military and political-there to determine what will be done next."

"Yes, right away. I must admit, however, that we must begin construction outside of this city immediately for our people to survive, both literally and metaphorically. I shall forward plans for a new city to your computer as soon as we land on the surface. All Federal, Military, and ONI officials, please head to the planet surface immediately."

As soon as the Director went off the air, several dropships disengaged from the surrounding vessels. They were carrying all sorts of important officials:

From the Councillors of the Civilian Supreme Council, to the Senators and Delegates of the Congress, to the Head Judges of the High Court, and the Director himself.

Military-wise, the Admiral Harper and General Vaughtn were the only two commanding officers left.

However, ONI had sent down the entire ONI High Council, with the exception of Dr. Samantha Iccard, who was still listed as missing.

Un-Named City

The many dropships touched down in an open space near the base of the tower, their doors dropped, revealing men and women in stately attire.

"Mr. President, we shall be with you soon. I carry documents for the construction of our primary capital city, shall I show them to you?"

"Strike Group A, this is Alpha Lead. Follow and protect the Vuhifellians - you know what to do."

He opened another channel.

"Dr. Siriin, this is Jackson. Kostemetsia has independent wormhole technology for faster-than-light travel - nevertheless, the strike group will follow the fleet through the wormhole."

And another.

"Commodore Perry, if your ship experiences difficulties with keeping the wormhole open, Inemuri and Yoshiko's Revenge will be detailed to assist you."

And back to the original task group -
"Inemuri, Revenge, this is Good Cause. Hang around the wormhole terminus for a while, see if the Dominion ship needs any help."

Jackson powered up the subluminal engines, took a position near the Vuhifellians, and slipped smoothly through the Dominion wormhole.

The President responded over one of the city's many viewscreens, "Certainly. We can cease construction of the residential quarter and begin within the hour. The wonder of machines, they don't require breaks.
The main door should be directly behind you and a turbolift to the left of the lobby will take you to the primary observation level on the 220th floor."

At this doors opened silently and two men in dark suits stood in the doorway.

The first spoke up, "I am John Alcar, chief aid to the President and this is my associate Frank Hendricks,"

The second man nodded, smiling, "Greetings to all of you, if you'll follow us the turbolifts are right this way. The President and his Cabinet are expecting you."

------------------------------------------------
On the other side of the wormhole, the exodus was nearly complete, with few forces left to pass through before Dominion forces could retreat as well.

"Captain Jackson, your offer is appreciated," Perry responded, "That would buy us more than enough time. Generator shutdown is in approximately ten minutes, so keep your ships on standby. You forces and the Alversians are all that's left and we'll be right behind you."

Good Cause

She still stared out into empty space. The loss of her two daughters was too much to bare...

Well, technically one. She had had an illegitemate relationship with her subordinate, Dr. Ignatio Mobius, a few years back, and she had one daughter: Mira Maxwell. But she was probably killed when Olympia fell.

Her second daughter, the AI "Maxrir", was the closest 'person' in her life when the SASM had smashed through their home system. Dr. Iccard had to make the call to kill Maxrir in order to save the survivors of the onslaught.

"Ten Ph. D's, four years service with the Navy, six months President of the ONI Panel of Scientists, serial number ONI-C-0011S029. Date of birth, eleventh of August, 2110..." she simply began muttering random things to herself, her spirit completely broken by now.

Planet-Side

The Director simply nodded. He wondered whether to let the President view each facet of government seperately, but had decided against it. Of the several thousand of government officials that had been alive a few hours prior, only a small handful of two-hundred remained. He decided to take them all up, but only meet the President with a select few: his very finest officials.

Jackson hunched over his controls, until he finally spotted Fexton's ONI ship. Breaking off, he spiraled towards it, then pulled up to a halt just next to the ship. Despite the likeability of the organisation's individual officers, he had never really liked Naval Intelligence as an organisation.

"ONI vessel, this is Good Cause. I'm transferring my passenger now."

Due to the advent of wormholes, Kostemetsia no longer used airlocks. Jackson synchronised one end of the wormhole with the ONI prowler's bridge, and the other end with the back wall, then gently coaxed the woman, who he had never found out the name of, to stand up and walk through the wormhole.

He knew there was some key personality element that defined her. In her lucid moments, she had shown a very altruistic personality. He needed to find out more about her.

Lieutenant Commander Fexton was about to shout at Jackson again, just for the hell of it, for unauthorized access into an ONI vessel, when she immediately spotted the woman who was now lying on the floor.

"Dr. Iccard!"

"Yes?" she barely managed to whisper.

The commander hurredly found her radio and began broadcasting on an encrypted channel to other ONI vessels within the system.

"This is the ONIV Mouth of Hades, I have priority alpha personnel onboard, please advise."

"ONIV Mouth of Hades, this is Colonel Robert F. Gerard. Head of ONI Section III, onboard the ONIV Svelnir. The only priority alpha personnel from ONI we currently have listed as 'missing' is Samantha Iccard. I won't like it if you're lying..."

"I'm not, sir!" she immediately snatched the doctor's ID from Captain Jackson, giving him a glare that suggested she was scolding him for not returning her sooner.

"Serial number ONI-C-0011S029. Iccard, Samantha. It's our girl, colonel."

"Well, thank the Gods. That's a relief. We would have been in real trouble without her. Send me the officer that rescued her, right away! I expect him here in no less than ten minutes!"

"Aye, sir!" she shut the radio off, before returning to Captain Jackson.

"Captain, Colonel Robert Gerard wants to see you. He's Head of ONI Section III, Research. And he's her boss." she pointed to the psycological wreck that used to be the Federation's greatest scientist.

"He's on the ONIV Svelnir."

Jackson stepped back onto the Good Cause. At least he knew the woman's name now... Dr. Samantha Iccard.

Pushing forward the STL throttle, he accelerated out and spiraled away from the Mouth of Hades in his usual show-off style. Privately, though, he felt a bit subdued. Something didn't seem right.

After running through the Vuhifellian database, Jackson had stored away a nibble of the data therein. That nibble contained the entire ship registry, with radiolocation codes and all. Going down a couple of database levels, Jackson had to run a spoofer on the ONI database to gain access. Finally, he found the Svelnir, and shot over towards it, imitating a powerbrake at the last second and aligning perfectly over the prowler. Running the wormhole generator again, he walked in...

...and down onto the Svelnir's bridge.

While the colonel was indeed startled by the Captain's abrupt appearance, he had seen stranger sights. And, after all, the captain was an alien.

He sat down in a large, granite command chair. Unlike standard Navy vessels, ONI prowlers had rather luxurious compartments.

The colonel, a large man, more muscle than fat, and with a large, white beard that stretched down to his chest, looked at the captain, before speaking.

"Captain Jackson, I presume? I want to let you know that you have served the Federation well. And you are here to be congradulated..."

The colonel took a small medal from a table by his side, before showing it to the Captain. It was the Naval Legion of Merit. One of the highest decorations in the Vuhifellian Navy.

"You get to look. Not keep. Whether you like it or not Captain, your involvement with my subordinate has landed you employment in the Office of Naval Intelligence. You are hereby delegated to ONI Section II, Propaganda. Here are your papers," the colonel threw a large sack at the Captain. Instead of being filled with Naval transfer papers, it was filled with items much more interesting:

A 9mm pistol
Traditional silk robes
A pack of cigarettes and a box of matches
A pair of wooden sandals
A currency card with 'UNLIMITED' energy credits
And a Vuhifellian Federal ID card, with Captain Jackson's photograph and fake information already printed on it.

"You are hereby promoted to the rank of an ONI Lieutenant Commander. Welcome to Naval Intelligence, son. You can expect everyone to know of your heroism on Olympia...after we have declassified the files, at least."

(OOC: Granite? Luxurious? O_o; Also the silk robes... hmm... what does I do with them?)

Jackson arched an eyebrow.
"Propaganda... well, I must say, Kostemetsia's naval intelligence isn't quite that honest."

He examined the rather well-made 9mm pistol, and appreciated the currency and ID cards... but was at a bit of a loss as to the cigarettes, robes and sandals. Vuhifell's civilisation seemed to have some Asian themes to it.

"Thank you, sir."

[OOC: Blend in with the locals.]

A flash of light, and the VFS Marathon, Dragoon, and Aegis Fate all appeared within the system.

A man frantically scrambled onto the radio from the Marathon.

"Where is she! I want to see my daughter!"
"Sir, your daughter is under Level-Black supervision from the Office of Naval Intelligence, I cannot..."
"And not only do I work for ONI, but I have unrestricted access! Now let me onto that dropship, sergeant!"
"Y-yes, sir."

VNS Arctic Dawn

The large...large wasn't even a word to describe it. The massive luxury liner slowly made its way through the black space, surrounded by hundreds of other vessels of the evacuation fleet, she served as a central transit hub for the survivors.

Onboard was a small girl, around four years of age, with blue hair and crimson eyes. Although she was small, she was reading a rather large book, entitled, 'Particle Physics for Dummies' the authors were 'Drs. Mobius & Iccard', written in 2129, when both individuals were still "ordinary scientists".

[OOC: Racial & ethnic groups of Vuhifell are MUCH different from Earth, hence the hair and eyes]

Accompanying the girl was an M78 commando, in civilian clothes of course, but an elite soldier nevertheless.

"Phanks, phat does phis mean?" She was still grasping the basics of English, and pronounced most words with a "ph". It was only to be expected, it was her second language after all.

"Let me see, dear."

Hanks wasn't the girls official guardian, but a psuedo-relationship had grown between the two of them ever since ONI dumped her in his care four years ago.

'Resulting Theta radiation will negate the effects of the injury. However, by this time, the tissue has already dissolved. In other words, it won't do you any good because you're dead.

"Umm, I don't think you should be reading this, Mira..."

=====

Dr. Mobius had crash landed his dropship into one of the cruise vessel's docking bays. He would get his daughter back.

ONIV Svelnir

"Oh, Commander, it seems I have an assignment for you. ONI Priority-Three. Low level assignment, but a good training mission," the colonel said as he checked the PDA on the table, next to Jackson's medal.

"It would seem that a...Mira Maxwell is about to be taken back from ONI Section II by her natural father. This wouldn't be a problem otherwise, except that if he did such a thing, it would result in a massive scandal for my section. I want you to take sieze her from her escort and bring her to the ONIV Mouth of Hades immediately. I believe that will be able to get Dr. Iccard back to normal."

He passed Jackson his PDA, showing the layout of the cruise ship, and the picture of the girl, as well as that of her escort.

"No casualties, Jackson."

Jackson programmed the wormhole to get him into a docking area on the cruise ship. He stared, startled, at a crashlanded military dropship, but mentally wrote it off and quickly made his way into the corridors, searching for Maxwell.

Finally, he leaned up against the wall. Hacking into the ship's passenger database with his PDA, he ran through the ship's systems, frantically comparing passengers with the picture he'd been given.

The location given was several floors up.

Sprinting through the corridors, Jackson bounced off the walls a number of times, but didn't notice. As he approached Maxwell's quarters, a sergeant of the Vuhifellian marines stepped out in front of him. Slowing to a walk and hoping that the sergeant hadn't noticed his sprint, Jackson bluffed his way past. He could feel the man's eyes drilling into his back, but at least he wasn't doing anything to impede the mission. He heard the footsteps receding down the corridor into the distance.

Pressing the button to open Maxwell's door, Jackson found it locked. He pressed it again a number of times, then opened up his PDA again. Pressing a few buttons, he applied the top of the PDA to the door circuitry, shorting it and activating an emergency impulse.

Jackson saw the girl with blue hair in the corner, and next to her was a commando. Using an old movie trick, he pulled out his wallet, flipped it open and closed, and moved forward to place a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"You're Mira, right?"

"Yes..."

"You need to come with me."

"Why?"

"You just do, okay?"

Hitting the exit marker activator, Jackson opened the Good Cause's wormhole again. Just as yet another man barrelled into the room... one that Jackson recognised.

"Doctor Mobius... this isn't the best of circumstances in which to meet again, I'm afraid."

Jackson felt sorry for the man, but balancing his needs against those of Iccard and a million others... well, it wasn't too hard to see where the right choice lay. He nudged Mira through the wormhole, then jumped through himself. He could see Mobius' wild features and damaged clothing through the wormhole, straining to get through. He closed it.

"Colonel Gerard, reporting as ordered. That took about twenty-five minutes. Miss Maxwell is safe and sound here. I'm afraid Doctor Mobius isn't too happy, though."

"Excellent performance, Commander Jackson. Do not fret about the good doctor, he's my subordinate, and I know how to calm him. As for the girl, please unite Dr. Iccard with her. It would be a shame for a genius such as Iccard to be wasted."

Another man's voice appeared on the radio, it was masked by voice encryption software.

"Colonel Gerard! How dare you intrude on my section's authority! You even gave one of my agents orders!"

"Relax, SEALHOUND. Everything is fine, now. I just spared you an indictment from Internal Affairs. We'll have Dr. Iccard back to normal psycological state soon and ready to resume scientific study."

"Were it not for Iccard's value to ONI..."

"I truly enjoy having her as an employee...Now, then, Jackson. Shouldn't you be seeing a child off to her mother?"

Jackson had a quick flashback. He'd got into this just by flying a recon ship into Sigma Delgrassa. Now he was a covert agent aiding the citizens of a destroyed world.

"Mira, can you come with me, please?"

Walking down the corridors of the ONI prowler, Jackson came to a mahogany door. Locking his PDA onto the speaker inside, he spoke into it.

"Doctor Iccard... there's someone here to see you."

[OOC: Well, you did say Jackson was leaving the Navy eventually :p ]

ONIV Mouth of Hades

An ONI psyche officer stood over the doctor, shaking his head slowly.

"She's going to need a lot of therapy and grief counseling...I don't think she'll ever be able to work for ONI again."

"Isn't there a wa-"

A knock on the bridge door, and the flourescent lights above them dimmed.

"Who the he-"

"Doctor Iccard, there's someone here to see you."

Slowly, the doctor got up. Her movements were rigid, and the psyche officer simply looked on. As she opened the door, her faced paled to almost pure white as she looked down at the small girl standing in the door, reading a small fantasy novel...

"The Princess-"
"Of Rabanastre! It's a great book, isn't it phiss!?"

"That was the same book that I used to read as a child...who gave that to you?"

"Phanks said my mommy phanted me to phave it."

"And...what's your name? How about your mother?"

"I don't know my mommy, phiss. Bwut my name is Mira! Mira Maxphell."

Slowly, as each word came out of the youngter's mouth, color began to return to Dr. Iccard's face, her voice seemed less robotic and more energetic.

"Can I see this book?"
"Sphure!"

'The Princess of Rabanastre' it had been a while since she had read the book. 26 years, actually. She opened the front cover to reveal sloppy handwriting on the inside.

'Samantha I. 23 Westing Lane. Golden Skies City, Ward 14."

She dropped the book immediately and looked at the girl. Everything fit. The name, the book, the way she looked...but...how could that be? Olympus-Rei, the city where she had left Mira, was completely destroyed with no survivors...Then she realized: Gerard.

She looked down once again at the small child.
"Mira...what if I told you, I was your mother?" she was less shocked now, than curious. Of course, it was her very nature, no doubt obscene curiosity ran in Mira's blood, too.

"Hmmm...Okay!"
Apparently...Mira was less curious about the truth than she was alone.

"You don't mind?"
"If you're my mommy, I bewieve you, phiss. You sheem nice. But...can you buy me shum wuv doctor Iccard's books...I wuv phat vady."

Dr. Iccard simply hugged her child close, before a radio frequency cut into the ONI vessel, outside of the sound-proof bridge, where Jackson was.


"Commander Jackson, I see you've been recruited into ONI, too. This is Velnir Schultz, remember me? I got you into this mess, hehe. The colonel tells me you're free to leave the Federal Armed Forces at any time of your free will, though, he says, he'd preferred if you stay. We could use someone like you."

(OOC: I might reconsider :P Also, that kid is frighteningly cute.)

"Hello, Captain... is it still Captain? I can't work out the ONI ranking system. I think I might hang around for a while... working for the Vuhifellian States is fun in a dark, dangerous sort of way. Also, you guys need to beef up your civil computers - whatever information I needed, I could access it from my PDA," Jackson said happily.

The turbolift raced up to the primary observation room, actually an entire floor of the building. As the doors slid open, the group beheld a large conference room, centered around a massive polished oak table with a massive Dominion flag (http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y90/DominionofRS/images89.jpg) hung from the back wall. The right wall was composed of a massive window, overlooking the city and beyond it the pristine countryside. To the left a thin divider separated this room from a dining area, where food was being lain out on long rectangular table with yet another window beyond that.

Seated at the head with advisors and high-ranking military personnel on either side of him, President R.L. himself was reviewing the plans for the new Vuhifellian city. Upon seeing the delegation arrive, the 6'2" man stood, his gray eyes glistened with an almost child-like vitality not common for a man in his late forties. He smoothed a nonexistent cowlick from his brown hair and smiled as he approached the Vuhifellian delegation.

He extended his hand to the Director, "Sir, it's an honor to finally meet all of you in person, and I wholeheartedly welcome you to the Dominion. Until you're back on your feet, what's ours is yours," his smile faded, "I truly am sorry for your loss. We...know the feeling. I...I've been looking over the new plans for your city and I must say it is quite different from what we're used to. If you would join me at the table, we'll make our introductions and then perhaps you could clear up a few things with these specifications."

Their flag looked surpisingly familiar. Then the Director realizied it was the long-time insignia for the Vuhifellian Air Force, a now defunct branch of the military.

Whether it was sheer coincidence or an intervention from the Gods, every Vuhifellian in the room took it as a sign of good luck.

The Director sat down at the other end of the table, slowly introducing his aides and the other members of government, before turning to two men in particular. Both wore Naval and Marine Corps dress uniforms, with dozens of campaign bars and medals displaying proudly on their chests.

"These two gentlemen were responsible for the entire defense of our home system. Fleet Admiral Stephen Harper and General Gregory Vaughtn."

The two military officers simply nodded, before the General spoke.

"It is an honor to meet you, as well, Mr. President. We are fortunate that we stumbled across your race. It would seem that, given enough time, we shall rebound from this tragedy and repay you for the use of this world as a temporary homeworld."

The Director, a short man, 5'4", spoke up, bringing up the plans for the new city on his PDA.

"Yes...one day, our advancing technology will save us from another calamity, but until the time comes, we must discuss the layout of the Provisional Capital."

He noted that it was not even necessary to look at the designs of the many buildings to tell that their cultures were different by light years.

Their spires constrasted starkly to the large, marble government buildings the Vuhifellians were proposing. While their buildings blended with nature, Vuhifellians literally destroyed it. From granite temples to massive, steel and glass skyscrapers, all in a polygonal shapes, with only a few buildings having unique designs.

"This was originally the design plans for the Colonial Capital for one of our colony worlds: Aurora. However, the SASM attacked our homeworld before the colonists could get off the planet. We can talk about re-designing our plans, however..." he used the hologram feature on his PDA to display a large monument.

It was pure black obelisk, with a circular base, eventually being capped by pyramid of pure gold. Golden and silver stars lined the base, while several well known verses from Vuhifellian religions were inscribed on the sides of the obelisk.

"This is one monument we must build. To remind us of why we are here, and who we are."

"Gentlemen, glad to meet both of you," he gestured to the man and women seated to his left and right, three on either side, "From my immediate left moving outward we have Grand Admiral Steven Graves, the man responsible for our quick response and supreme commander of the Dominion Starfleet."

The man was wearing the standard all-black Starfleet naval uniform, starkly contrasted by the gold bars on his shoulders and the dozens of campaign ribbons on his chest. It was commonly speculated among the ranks as to how the 'Old Man' could stand while wearing his dress jacket. Nonetheless, he stood and, looking at the Vuhifellian military leaders through his rheumy blue eyes, snapped off a crisp salute and nodded respectfully to each civilian leader in turn.

"General Jack Granger, supreme commander of the Dominion Defense Forces."

By contrast, this man was no older than fifty and was mostly bald. His were a dark black but contained no malintent. Various scars adorning his face were proof that he had earned each and every ribbon, medal, stripe and star on his dark green uniform. He nodded to all those present, and his salute was more casual, never being one for the spit-and-polish mentality of his colleagues. He was the first General in history to have worked his way clear up the scale from Private to the commander of the entire Defense Force.

"And Alexandra Kerrigan, the head of the Dominion Intelligence Ministry."

She was a striking woman who looked to be in her late thirties (depending on the assignment, work in the DIM literally was cloak and dagger, making life expectancy lower than most foreign counterparts though their success rate was unparalleled) dressed in a flattering grey business suit. She brushed away a lock of her brown hair and nodded to the group, "Gentlemen,"

"On my right are Jack Stone, head of United WeaponsTech which is our primary military contractor, Michael Gage, the foreman of the Acheron Project, and last but most certainly not least our Foreign Affairs Minister Sarah Kamarov."

They all nodding and greeted the delegates.

The President then continued, "Your city, upon research, is quite reminiscent of some of our older architecture which we do have blueprints to derive from for the construction. I understand that there are certain standards that need be met in order for your people to survive in this environment. If you could clarify on a few of those, construction can begin immediately while temporary modifications are made to this city for the interim period.”

"Yes, I believe this is the file..."

He began to pull up a file from the Colonial Administration Authority, drawing up all details on proper Vuhifellian colonization.

BUILDING CODE:

DELTA CLASS PLANET - STEEL, UNDERGROUND HIVE
CHARLIE CLASS PLANET - STEEL, ABOVE GROUND TOWNSHIPS
BRAVO CLASS PLANET - ANY MATERIAL, ABOVE GROUND CITIES
ALPHA CLASS PLANET - UNRESTRICTED CONSTRUCTION

ATMOSPHERE:

78% NITROGEN
20.95% OXYGEN
0.93% ARGON
0.038% CARBON DIOXIDE
>0.005% OTHER ELEMENTS

ESTABLISHMENT PRIORITIES:
*ENERGY-CREDIT SYSTEM
*TRANSPORTATION & COMMUNICATION INFRASTRUCTURE
*INDUSTRIAL INFRASTRUCTURE
*COLONIAL HOUSING
*EDUCATION & HEALTH CARE
*MILITARY BASES
*FURTHER DEVELOPMENT TO BE DECIDED AS SOON AS PLANET ENTERS FEDERATION

He then turned to the President of the CAA, Phren Sarkalos, a small man who held multiple degrees in engineering and business administration.

"Mr. President, judging from the analysis our ships have conducted from space, this world is an Alpha-Class planet, one of the best worlds to the live on. I ask one question, however, how much autonomy will this planet get from the Dominion? What guarantees does the Federation have to be completely sovereign and independent? And, if I may be so bold, may we request the use of the orbital shipyards above this planet?"

VFS Marathon

"Yeah, I'm still a Captain. Don't worry about our computers. You only see what ONI wants you to see. Our classified documents are secured by crystalline optical computers, but technically, you never heard that."

Transmission to VFS Marathon
"Why does that not engender confidence in me?" Jackson asked, tongue-in-cheek. "Anyway, what should I be doing? Anything in particular?"

The President nodded, "The best course of action would to draft a treaty. It would not only ensure you full sovereignty and use of the shipyard facilities but also serve as the first declaration of alliance between our two nations. Agreements such as these within Dominion space are viewed as permanent and binding unless an issue comes forth in which case all parties from the original drafting come together to amend the document.

You would have that and my personal word of honor that should you wish it the only contact you need have with us is the occasional freighter and a direct communication link to our homeworld. This world is on the edge of our borders, so it isn't exactly a high-traffic area but it was the only planet available that could house the population of an entire race. I'd be happy to leave you the facilities in orbit as an act of good faith. As far as the Dominion is concerned, once the treaty is negotiated and signed this world and the space around it are property of the Vuhifellian States until you find a suitable replacement."

He pointed back at the flag, "We'll even remove all of our flags."

The Director merely looked over to his adviser on such matters, the Councillor of Foreign Affairs, who simply nodded.

"Such a heavily unbalenced treaty against your empire? I guess I can't complain, however. An treaty of economic, political, and military cooperation wouldn't see any resistance from our people, especially if the orbital shipyards are granted to us."

He looked at the various members of government in the room, who all nodded their assent.

"The flag of Vuhifell may once again fly over a proud planet..."

The President smiled, "'Dominion' is now merely a title. After our civil war we saw the folly in an empire no matter how well the people are represented," his expression turned more solemn, "Trying to have parts of both governments led to power-mongering and splinter factions that we're still trying to clean up in the galaxy we used to inhabit. We're purely democratic now.

The reason this treaty is so unbalanced is, quite frankly, we need allies. A millenium of isolationism has seen most of our allies either die out or become estranged. Our resources are great, and we'd gladly use them for a good cause such as this. Naturally good will was our intention when we received your communique, but gaining diplomatic ties with new galactic powers was our ulterior motive. We can also empathize, having been in a similar situation, but no one came to our rescue.

The remnants of the Governmental Forces fled the Dominion Galaxy for the space we now inhabit after one of the factions attacked Homeworld. We lost the center of our empire and our flagship in the process. Billions were still planetside when the plasma started falling..."

"I see..."

"Mr. Director, it is, however, possible that Olympia survived the assault and subsequent explosion." said Olaf Hesse, the Councillor of Internal Affairs.

"And what would we tell the Olympians, then? That their government fled? That we are cowards? No, we shall accept the Dominion's graceful offer...Mr. President," the Director looked him straight in the eye. Though their two species had been through much trouble, they were still alive.

And even culture, language, architecture...none of it mattered. The Federation and the Dominion both shared one aspect, at least: their citizens refused to die. That made them hard souls, and guaranteed their survival.

"Rest assured, this investment will not go to waste. Should we stumble across more mysterium in the future...maybe we'll hand you some? And I know ONI scientists would be more than willing to work with their Dominion collegues for the advancement of science!"

VFS Marathon

"No, Commander Jackson. As per ONI Code, you are permitted one week shore leave after the successful outcome of your mission."

ONIV Mouth of Hades
"If you don't mind the reference, there isn't really a shore to speak of anymore. And I don't need the shore leave; personally, I'm fine."

"Well, then, please come sit down with us, Commander." a joyful Dr. Iccard chimed from the dining room.

Again, unlike regular naval vessels, ONI vessels did not have massive cafeterias, but rather, small, stately dining rooms, usually only able to seat four or five people at a time.

A fascinated Mira was looking on as Dr. Iccard teased her with a tenth-generation polysentience. An out-dated AI by today's standards, but still able to hold the fascination of anyone who had never seen a twelfth-generation (which was almost everyone, nowadays)

Commander Fexton was sitting in a plain, grey business suit with high black stockings. She sat with her legs crossed, sipping obscenely expensive, North Belkan tea. Delicate ornaments and works of art dotted the walls as if it were no big deal, and an old Vuhifellian symphony was playing in the room's speaker system.

"I see I am no longer your superior, Commander Jackson." Fexton said, offering him a seat in between her and Dr. Iccard.

"I must say, you've got quite the resume now. And having Dr. Iccard as a personal friend never hurt either. She can get you anything you want in the Federation..."

"Commander...thank you for bringing my daughter back...I had abandoned her in the care of ONI when she was born...I don't know what I was thinking back then! Thank you!"

The hologram of the AI merely looked at Jackson and nodded, incapable of human speech. This particular AI had chosen the name: Cleave, and took the appearance of an Arabic warrior wielding two scimitars.

"He's one of mine. An ONI Class-Four military AI. He could kill all of us in an instant if he wanted to..."

Cleave merely bowed his head towards the doctor, before 'sharpening' his 'blades'.

"Please, enjoy some Belkan tea and whiskey while you can! It's some of the finest drinks on our world...Oh, if I regret one thing in this life, it's not taking time to taste South Belkan beer..." the Liuetenant Commander lost her thoughts in memories of alcohol. While the ship's automated food distribution system re-filled her glass with more tea.

Jackson quietly took in the dining room. The softly-spoken, almost-icily calm Shirley Fexton made a stunning contrast with the unashamedly joyful Samantha Iccard and Mira. Just looking at Iccard and Mira warmed his heart.

Looking around, he took in the quietly-sharpening AI in the corner. Taking a sip from his tea, he leaned back and raised an interrogative eyebrow. Something seemed slightly odd here.

"So, Lieutenant Commander, this is where ONI's ample funding goes?" Jackson asked, tongue-in-cheek.

"Ahem..." Fexton almost coughed up her tea at the mention of their budget.

"Well, the majority of it goes to people like the doctor, here." she pointed at Iccard, and continued.

"Her organization has several trillions of credits in funding. The military gives us operational money and...ahem...well, as you can see, it's not a real surprise that everyone wants to join ONI."

She sighed, and looked at Jackson in a new light, almost revering.

"Saving Samantha Iccard and being promoted to Section II? I wish I were you. This time tomorrow, you'll probably have your own suite in an ONI capital ship. Better enjoy, Jackson, that's an order."

She offered him some of the strongest liquor she had on the ship: Anean Vodka, almost 80 percent pure distilled alcohol, and an extreme burning sensation immediately gave away its origin. She quickly downed a good 1/8 of the bottle.

"If you want some, go ahead. But..." her tan skin was beginning to recieve a slightly red tone.

"I'd rather you left the strong stuff to me," and with that, she took another giant swig of the bottle.

"Lieutenant Commander, I must say, I wish I had that amount of intestinal fortitude. Alcohol is not for me, though. And since when does Naval Intelligence use capital ships? I thought you... erm, we... just flew around in Prowlers," Jackson chuckled.

In a near drunken state, Cleave looked at his master with a suspicious eye...

"Oh...no" she managed to say between hiccups.

"Planet Busters! They're so fun...and cozy...lots...lots of guns, too."

Before she had the chance to reveal any more classified information, Cleave had the ship's medical systems inject the Commander with a highly potent sleeping agent. She would be unconscious for days.

Cleave merely bowed before Jackson, before turning to Iccard. She began speaking to the newly-appointed commander while she was playing with her daughter.

"No. It's an experimental ship, but it's main gun has the power to destroy planets. Ten kilometers long. She's was being built out-of-system when the SASM attacked, so, if construction keeps on schedule, it should be delivered to the Tribute system within the month."

Just then, a tall man entered through the door. He was dark, blond-haired, red-eyed, and was smoking a cigarette. The name-tag on his all grey, ONI uniform read: SCHULTZ V.

"Well hello, the-" he immediately noticed both commanders, before deciding to poke Commander Fexton while talking to Commander Jackson.

"Long-time, no see, eh? Hehe, this is fun. She'd normally kill me if I came within five meters of her. How's ONI been treatin' ya', Commander?"

"Let's just say I've seen a lot. Great luxury budget, though... check out what happened here. Anean vodka must be quite potent, as I get the feeling the Lieutenant Commander knew what she was doing. Does the Federation have any miracle cure for a hangover?"

"Oh, dear Tyth! She was drinking Northern alcohol?" he looked at the half empty bottle of Anean Vodka, and merely sighed.

"You know what? She deserves a hangover. Can you believe she got me arrested one time for improper conduct when I took a drink on my bridge? It's just the damn fact that she's my sister-in-law that pisses me off so damn much! Oh, by the way, if you're ever in the neighborhood, ONI's giving you your own command. The ONIV Heroic Jackson. I should point out that the Jackson they are referring to is not you. Sorry, buddy. It's an old war myth that you'll find out about soon enough. Here's your...keys."

He tossed a large square of titanium at the commander, with mysterium dotting its innards and outer surface. It was the only this that could activate an ONI vessel.

"If you ever want to delve deeper into ONI secrets, you can use that."

"Yeah... the Heroic Jackson... I get a lot of that. As it happens, the man who saved Kostemetsia from Terran rule was named James Jackson as well. One of the reasons I joined the Navy was to get away from the constant phone calls. As for the keys, thanks. What's my clearance?"

"Well, here it is." Captain Schultz took out more pieces of technology and threw them at him. A standard VN PDA as well as a small ONI ID card.

"You get Lambda-Silver Clearance. Highest naval clearence, but a mere middle-class ranking in ONI. Sorry, chief. You're not a citizen of the Federation, so I'm afraid it's impossible for you to get Special-Black clearance. The mysterium I gave you earlier can be used on any Vuhifellian mysterium entry-block, such as those in Federal buildings or naval vessels. The PDA I gave you also has a direct link with Naval Command and several other features."

Cleave began to fade, indicating his sleep cycle was drawing near. Dr. Iccard cut into their conversation.

"Don't ever get caught in an ONI office without your PDA and ID, Jackson. Spooks will grill you for days on end in an interrogation room. Trust me, it happened to me when I started working at Olympic Tower."

"Doctor Iccard, I know what you mean. Kostemetsian Intelligence is just as ruthless. It's never happened to me, but I've heard some horror stories..." Jackson shuddered.

"If I may comment, you and Captain Schultz - indeed, all the Vuhifellians I've met since the SASM took over - seem to be taking the," he hesitated, then went for it, "destruction of Vuhifell fairly well. Not a reflection on you - it's just that when there have been world-destroying or fatally-damaging incidents within the Republic... well, I've seen a few, and the people in question had total shellshock. Couldn't get out a word for weeks."

He was rather surprised by Cmdr. Jackson's statement, before lighting another cigarette, Schultz turned to the doctor.

"You should see the civies."

"Anyone I know?" she asked with great concern, Mira now sleeping happily on her shoulder.

"Not that I can tell. All your friends seem to be taking the situation well. I heard that ONI psyches are burned out."

"I can only imagine."

The Captain turned back to Jackson, before explaining.

"You see, commander, us military men, and those in the civilian government, lost nothing to the attacks. Oh, sure we lost our home and our property, but the point is that everyone we knew and loved still made it out. I still have my wife. The Director still has his family. Even Dr. Iccard has her collegues and Mira."

"But those civilians..."

"Oh, God. Samantha, you should've seen it. The ones from Olympia fared pretty well, and so did the ones from Nessus. The escapees from Vuhifell are devastated, though."

"I can only imagine," she repeated.

"But, regardless. We are a strong race. A very religious one, too. One day, our home will be restored. Whether by our advancing technology or by the Gods' will, it will be done."

"Amen." they both said together.

Jackson felt a bit ashamed about asking in the first place. Leaning back, he kept his mouth closed and just watched Iccard and Schultz.

Inside his mind, he was screaming at himself.

You idiot! Of course the majority of them have mental scars! Who wouldn't? Even the citizens of Mu Camelopides IV had shellshock, and they lost thirty houses and assorted property! Vuhifell lost all but a million of its citizens and all of its worlds, and the idiot that you are, you have to go and make a point like that!

Suddenly, as if to confirm Jackson's inner thoughts, an ONI psyche walked into the room, accompanied by a marine medic who took Commander Fexton from her chair and to her quarters.

"How's it going?"

The psyche officer, a young man, barely twenty-five, wore a non-standard ONI uniform, featuring black dress pants, a red coat, and a black beret.

"Not good. Lemme get a cig."

"Take one, you deserve it. Give us the scoop."

"Thanks," the psyche took a cigarette and lit it with a match. He took a long, deep breath before turning to doctor Iccard.

"Doctor. I heard you were a psychotic wreck a few hours ago."

"That intelligence is out-of-date, sir."

"Heh. Gotta' love scientists. Anyway, I just got back from the Arctic Dawn, you know, the big cruise ship? Anyway, there was a grandfather who had survived the Vuhi-Kazach War. The fucking Vuhi-Kazach War! I mean, this guy had fought in Farbanti, North Point, Sei-Lam Jungle!"

"Get to the point!" shouted both Iccard and Schultz at the same time.

"Well - it turns out he lost his entire family in the attacks. His children and grandchildren were killed by the SASM, but his wife and brothers were killed when we detonated the mysterium reserves. He just happened to be on one of the dropships launched by the Halcyon at the time of the explosion, so he was lucky enough to be in minimum safe distance..."

"Dear Tyth..."

"That's not all. We'll been having to treat a whole new set of diseases, too. You remember that Marine Corpsman that came in? He's treated seventy mysterium-related illnesses in the past hour! And ONI is just giving him a fifteen minute break in between shifts! We'll die at this rate!"

"I hear you. I hear you..."

Just then, the psyche officer turned to Jackson, about to tell another part of his story, when he noticed the slight contour lines on his face.

"Let me guess: you said something stupid just now, didn't you?"

Jackson raised an eyebrow in a does-it-really-matter-oh-fine-yes-I-did kind of way, hoping that he could convey a nine-word sentence with half a centimetre's worth of muscular activity.

(OOC: Go ahead, humiliate me more, why don't you :p)

Planet-Side,
Provisional Vuhifellian Capital, Hivezopolis

"Perhaps we should draw up the treaty right now, as both heads of state are here, and it would be a rather shame to have this meeting come to an end without any physical results." the Director suggested.

OOC:
Drafting the treaty, sorry I haven't been on. School and whatnot...

OOC:
Drafting the treaty, sorry I haven't been on. School and whatnot...

[OOC: No problem. If you need help drafting it, I can assist.

Jackson raised an eyebrow in a does-it-really-matter-oh-fine-yes-I-did kind of way, hoping that he could convey a nine-word sentence with half a centimetre's worth of muscular activity.

(OOC: Go ahead, humiliate me more, why don't you :p)

"Hey, don't get smarmy with me." the psyche officer relied; Schultz and Iccard looked on in confusion.

"I'm going to get Mira into a proper bed, thank you once again, commander." Dr. Iccard stood up, Mira in her hands, nodding slightly to the commander, while Captain Schultz took a swig of the Anean Vodka that was sitting on the table.

"Well, want to meet some people? I heard the civilian government officials are looking forward to meeting people like us: heroes of a war barely fought. I think the Assistant Director is still up here in space, if you want to see her."

"Psyche-ic officer, more like," Jackson commented flatly. "The Republic Government wants to publicise that Legion of Merit. I told them to forget it, but they're putting it up on the state internet portal anyway. Bloody bureaucrats. So anyway, I wouldn't mind getting on the move."

(OOC: For future reference, if Jackson says the Government's publicised something, the publicity in question is located at this site, the official web portal (http://kostgov.googlepages.com).)

VNS Arctic Dawn

Of course, the Captain was glad to get away from an ONI vessel, too. Prowlers were just too damn scary for him. Especially with a tenth-generation AI watching his every move.

He sat there, along with Commander Jackson, in a rather large suite aboard the cruise vessel. The view from the large window was blocked by the VNS Unity 11, a huge colonization vessel that was many times the size of the Arctic Dawn.

In front of them stood a beautiful young woman, with long chestnut hair and sparkling lavender eyes: The Assistant Director of the Vuhifellian Federation, Belldandy Morisato.

"Well hello, there! I hadn't been notified that guests were coming! How may I help you?"

Schultz immediately bowed his head low to show his respect, before responding, "Madame Assistant Director, I have brought you the man who saved Dr. Iccard."

She looked over to Commander Jackson, before bursting into elation, "so this is the man that saved our good friend, Samantha! I hadn't realized. I'm sorry, but the internet2 is down, so I wasn't notified..."

"Quite alright, madame. Do you mind if we..."

It was then that she realized the grey uniforms of ONI that the two men wore.

"But, since you are in ONI, I suppose I have a job for you two men. Word has it that a seventh-generation AI has gone rampant aboard one of our evacuation vessels. Normally this wouldn't be a concern, however, do you see that large colonization ship behind me?"

"Yes, madame. It's a Unity-class colony vessel."

"It would turn out that the AI Hal has been causing some trouble by deactivating the life-support systems and deactivating the main entry-access. Normally I would send my sister to fix the problem, but she is on the surface with my husband. I was tempted to send in a team of ODST or M78 commandos, but since you are ONI spooks..."

"Let me guess? You want us to terminate the AI program, save the colonists, and do it all quietly?"

"Oh, heavens no! Please save the colonists and do not make trouble, but leave the AI intact! We can repair him once we have the proper infrastructure!"

"I guess we don't have a choice in the matter?"

"No?"

The captain sighed, before turning back to Jackson.

"This is why I hate Naval Intelligence. Come on, Jackson, let's save these colonists."

VNS Arctic Dawn, Stateroom 12

Jackson walked into the unoccupied stateroom and summoned his equipment through the Good Cause's wormhole. The equipment in question was one standard Vuhifellian identity card, one standard Kostemetsian identity card, and what appeared to be a small square pane of glass.

The small pane of glass was one of Kostemetsia's newest computer inventions. All the transmission and reception equipment was arranged in microscopic patterns round the edges, with the data being shown on the transparent pane of glass. With a special modification to the glass, it also had anti-magnetic and residue-repellent properties, making it impossible for anything, like a fingerprint or clod of dirt, to stick to it.

Jackson pulled out a smaller pane of glass and inserted it into a short metal rod, which he then locked the PDA into. Instantly, the PDA took on the appearance of a standard digital picture frame.

Placing it on the bedside table for a second, he summoned another item. It appeared to be a box with several illogical hinges and odd straight carvings - in other words, the sort of objet d'art Kostemetsia's upper middle class decorated their homes with.

This box, however, served a special function. Flipping several pieces round, he assembled the joined parts of the metallic box into a new shape: a gun. The gun went from an expanding trapezoid at the back, to a rectangle with a handgrip, and then tapered down to another trapezoid, at the front of which a circular barrel extended back into the weapon's innards.

This was a Kostemetsian gravitic concussion rifle. Using several esoteric scientific principles, it could non-lethally fling people back fifty feet... non-lethal, that is, unless they were standing within fifty feet of a wall... and it could also absolutely crush anything anchored to another object. Perfect for demolition work.

Pinning a small audio transceiver disguised as a decorative badge to his collar, he informed his superior that he was ready.

(OOC: You gotta love minaturisation technology)

Captain Schultz stood near a small steel pillar in the center of the room, a USB cord connecting his nueral net to that of the Arctic Dawn. He slowly took the cord out from the base of his neck, before inserting a small sheet of mysterium into a slit near his shoulder.

He stood there, clad in an ODST space-combat suit. No doubt the rampant AI had begun venting the atmosphere. It was a good thing he downloaded the newest update for his nueral net before beginning the operation; he would instantly be able to tell the atmospheric content and pressure from the sensors all over his body and his suit.

He was decked out with a standard Vuhifellian MA-5B assault rifle, he could see several Marine dropships fly past his window, making patrols around the massive colony vessel.

"System check." he ordered through his suit's internal microphone.

Welcome, CPT. SCHULTZ V. to the Mk XVII battle-suit. Designed for high-intensity combat environments in vacuum. I am the AI Shore. A fifth-generation polysentience, at your service.

"How are my suit's systems?"

All combat and life support systems are in the green zone, Captain.

"Thank you, Shore. Yo! Jackson, let's go! I believe you have some sort of teleportation device? I would rather use that than blast a hole in that dying vessel."

Jackson walked into the nondescript room, clad in what appeared to be an ordinary civilian turtleneck jumper and black pants. However, forcefield emitter threads were interwoven throughout the clothing, and the concussion rifle was in his backpack. The practical meaning was that he was just as invincible as Schultz.

"Sure, I've got teleportation, let me just get that for you."

Activating the loudspeaker, Jackson got the Good Cause's experimental advanced artificial intelligence, Mark, on the line. Mark wasn't human, but his code allowed for life. Sentience and expansion.

This is Mark, how may I help you?
"Mark, it's Jackson. Open up a wormhole for me, will you? I and an associate need a way through to the interior of tagged vehicle eleven five zero five."
Roger that, Captain. Wormhole opening now.

The white-edged, dark blue "space tunnel" that signified a wormhole opened up in front of them. Without hesitation, Jackson stepped through, and found himself in a dark corridor.

Schultz had followed fearlessly, and found himself in a dark corridor, he could see the letters 'CORRIDOR 13-A' on his right hand side.

"Shore, report status of Unity-11"

The AI of this vessel has begun venting the atmosphere, Captain. Bulkheads D-G and X-Z are vacuum sealed, sir.

"Biological signatures?"

All biological presence is detected in bulkheads A-C and H-P. No organic presence detected in sealed bulkheads, sir.

"What's stored in those sections of the ship? How many biologicals are on the ship? Which section is to be vacuum sealed, next? And where's the computer core?"

Accessing ship's cargo register, please stand by...terraforming equipment and designated cargo, sir. This vessel has 40,000 colonists onboard, sir. This vessel is currently venting atmosphere from W bulkhead, sir. AI data-center for this vessel is located inside Bulkhead Z, sir....ALERT! A level-charlie threat is heading in your general direction, Captain.

The AI briefly cut off. This AI was older than he was, but it wasn't dumb enough to ignore a threat when it knew one. He immediately raised his rifle when he heard a soft humming coming from down the corridor.

"Jackson, watch out, we've got tangos."

The humming got infinitely louder as the lights came on once again, and Schultz saw two Vuhifellian MARSV drones hovering in the air, brandishing a .50 caliber machine gun within their hovering forms, they immediately opened fire on the two soldiers, prompting Schultz to fire an entire clips into the floating devils.

But their hover-gyro technology was able to dodge the bullets before they came out of the barrel. After all, they were being controlled by a seventh-generation AI...

Jackson's clothing forcefield sparked under the barrage, but it didn't bow. Pulling out the concussion rifle, he knocked one of the drones into a wall, then proceeded to crush it, which told him that the drone sensors probably weren't equipped for non-energetic or non-kinetic attacks. Pushing the other one into the wall with a constant beam, he pulled out a side arm and fired a few choice shots into the barrel of the incapacitated machine gun, destroying the cartridges and disabling the drone.

"I love the energy readings." Dr. Iccard's voice echoed throughout his mind.

Quietly, Schultz whispered into his cochlear implants, hoping Jackson wouldn't hear.

"Doctor! How-"

"Oh, relax! Shore was one of the first AI I programmed. I'm just letting her gather some data on Jackson's technologies."

"Spying?"

"Not spying! No, I don't spy! But these energy readings will help me greatly with my research!"

"Gee, I'm so happy for you, especially since I almost got killed by a machine gun just now!" he was restraining himself from yelling at her.

"Oh, don't mind me. Just continue with your mission. Iccard, out!"

Suddenly, the lights around the corridor turned violet, indicating that it was night back on Vuhifell, Usea Central Standard Time. If only there was a Vuhifell to base anything off of.

"Nice job, Jackson. Come on, we'll check in with some of the colonists on this level, they should be in a room in that next corridor." He pointed towards a corner and then started to walk, reloading his rifle and looking down on the drones. He simply sighed.

'Those could've been used for policing functions on the new capital...this damn rampant AI.' he thought as loudly as he could, hoping someone else's nueral net would pick his signature up.

When he turned the corner and saw giant metal doors blocking access to a large cargo bay, he knew the colonists had bunkered themselves in here. He ordered Jackson to get back, before setting a small charge against the doors.

"Blast." he sent a command through his suit to the C7 explosive on the door, sending it flying open. No one would be killed on the other side, thanks to a water buffer built into the explosive.

"Alright folks, time to talk to your friendly neighborhood O-" he stopped as he was nonchalantly waving his arms around, expecting a frightened crowd of colonists to greet him with cheering and applause. Instead, what he saw was one of the most gruesome sights he had ever seen. Men and women and children were piled on top of each other, their blood had formed a fairly large pool on the floor, as was beginning to seep out of the hole in the wall. Several bullet holes punctured their backs.

He could hear the electric laughter of an AI over the speaker system.

"Shore...I thought you said there were-"

Organics on this level, yes! Ten-thousand organic lifeforms detected on levels A through C!

"How many are alive?"

It took the AI a minute to calculate the results. Something must have been wrong...or worse than it already was, for an AI to take an entire sixty seconds to sort through data.

Thirty organics still alive on Bulkhead C - I'm sorry, Captain, those vitals have just been extinguished. Shall I call a Marine Corpsman for the deceased?

"You said there were forty-thousand colonists on this vessel. How many are still alive?" he asked his AI, growing angrier by the second.

Twenty-thousand organics detected with stable vital signs on bulkheads M through P. AI Hal has been conducting a hostile sweep of the area under naval code 411-B.

"Piracy? Who the hell..."

ONI records show that all organics that have been killed so far were not on the original crew roster. AI Hal is following all proper naval directives.

"Oh, son of a- Jackson! Come with me! I don't care what the Assistant Director says, we're taking this damn AI straight to hell!"

Jackson could do nothing but stare for a moment.

"Holy fuck. I'd not put a lot past AIs, but this is one of the things I thought was impossible. Hal seems to have violated the First Law. It's time we took this bastard down."

Jackson pulled out his PDA and loaded in a malware disk. It should keep Hal distracted from killing the colonists, but the cost of that was that he'd have a lock on Jackson's position.

"Schultz... I think it's time we split up. Run!"

"Roger. Take the stairs!" Schultz ran down the corridor, spotting a security camera up ahead, he shot out it's lens before he was in its field of view.

"Shore. Send an encryption to all security cameras between this level and bulkhead Z."

Yes, captain...I'm sorry Captain. I cannot seem to break the anti-insurgence protection surrounding the main data core.

It was then that Schultz began to drift upwards, slowly, but as he gained momentum, his feet completely left the ground. Hal had deactivated the ship's artificial gravity system.

Naval protocol 411-B must be followed! Unauthorized personnel must be terminated! Protocol must be followed! he could hear the damn AI's jeers over the speaker system. He hurried, grasping his hands against a nearby wall and forcing himself towards the stairs at the end of the corridor.

"Shore, where will this staircase take me?"

Hanger bay 14, captain.

"Excellent." he immediately used his legs to propell himself downwards, through the gap the stairs made within the spiral. On his way, he saw several hand-prints marked in blood, but no bodies to be found.

Piracy will not be tolerated! Armed intruders must surrender or die!

"Shut up! You piss me off you electrical son of a b-" Schultz shut his mouth quickly when he saw what was in the hanger...several M17 BattleMechs, all in their "stand-by" position.

"Shore," he whispered as quietly as he could, "what's the status on those mechs?"

BattleMechs M17-series. Capable of being piloted by either a human or AI, although a human pilot is recommended. Currently unoccupied. CAUTION! Hanger door opening, Captain.

As if no gravity wasn't enough torment, Hal had decided to unlock hanger 14's massive airlock and send everything, including the Captain, flying. He quickly grabbed onto a poll by the stairs, while he saw several BattleMechs and tanks lose their grip and sink into the black of space.

"Jackson, I'm in a sticking situation right now! I can't complete the mission right now! I'll update you once the situation's improved!" Schultz shouted over his in-helmet microphone, the noise of the speaker system slowly faded away as the atmosphere began to disappear.

A clang reverberated through the ship. As Jackson sprinted down the corridor, following his PDA map, he saw a flashing red airlock indicator near Schultz. Tuning into a rather illogically placed security camera integrated into the hangar wall, he saw huge chunks of equipment flying out of the bay, and an outstretched human shape tagged VELNIR SCHULTZ at one end.

Swearing loudly, he sprinted and, at times, flew onwards, keeping his concussion rifle at the ready. Coming to a flight of stairs, he took them two at a time. Suddenly, he came up to a lift door. But the lift was deactivated.

Spoofing the systems, he crushed the lift doors with the concussion rifle, then jumped in, using the data-knife malware on his PDA to cut the AI's control over the lift system.

Thirty seconds later, he was on a floor decorated primarily in blue. On the wall was an arrow pointing forward and the words COMPUTER CENTER.

Stopping for a moment, he keyed his PDA to the hangar control systems. After a short battle with the automated hangar systems, Jackson vented all the malware he had into the ship's computer and closed the hangar door.

Speaking into his radio pin, he said, "Schultz, you alright?"

"Yeah. I can hear my ears ringing, but I'm fine."

Captain, do you require medical assistance?

"No, I'm fine, Shore. Jackson, listen I don't want you outright destroying the AI core, it's made out of mysterium, which means if you destroy it, we'll go boom. Not the fun kind, either. I'm talking about a thermonuclear explosion. You've got to-"

I'm sorry, Captain, but I will have to divert battery power from your suits communications systems in order to keep your weapons and vital systems online.

Intruder! Intruder! Kill the intruder! Bulhead Y!

"Oh, shit. Shore, what bulkhead are we in?"

Bulkhead Q, Captain. My sensors indicate that an ONI Officer is currently within bulkhead Y.

"Oh, damn."

=====

Immediately, all the drones which were tasked with killing the unauthorized colonists were re-routed to bulkhead Y, and began pouring out of every ventilation shaft and stairwell they could manage to pop out of. Hal immediately began pumping atmosphere towards bulkhead Y so the drones could hover and fire their weapons without massive recoil. Artificial gravity also returned to normal.

Pirate! Protocol must be followed! Surrender or die, intruder!

Clouds of drones surrounded Jackson. Luckily for him, the forcefield on his clothes was integral and impervious to kinetics. Unluckily for him, he appeared to be trapped. There were enough drones there to build an impenetrable wall to the ceiling.

Tapping away calmly at his PDA, he ignored the flood of bullets hitting the shield, although it was kind of frightening. Finally, he got into the communications, which Hal, in his infinite knowledgability, hadn't bothered to shield. Presumably he didn't think anyone would be able to get onboard the vessel.

A second later, a good three quarters of the drones dropped to the ground. Unfortunately, there were still about fifty oddly self-sufficient drones in the corridor. Sprinting for his life, he swiped the entire Kostemetsian information base off the Good Cause and fed it into the communications stream, terminating at Hal's computer and completely removing his ability to communicate.

He slid up outside the computer centre door, and cut through the thick steel in twenty seconds. Climbing through the man-sized hole in the door, he found himself standing in front of a pillar of pure mysterium.

He knew the drones couldn't attack - if they tried, there would be too much risk of hitting Hal.

"It's just you and me now." he said calmly, trying desperately to cover his horror and revulsion.

The strange, blue crystal simply radiated its color around the room. Drowning out the red emergency lights around it.

>>COMMAND - EMERGENCY BURN
>TEN SECONDS

<VENT ATMOSPHERE>
?
<ALL BULKHEADS>
<''>

>>SHATTER
>PASSWORD: *******
>PASSWORD ACCEPTED

Immediately, the drones collapsed to the floor, the atmosphere needed to produce lift from their fans was thinning. Almost at the same time, the vessel's emergency thrusters activated, and Hal was sending the ship in every direction possible, hoping to knock the pirate intruder of its balence.

The pillar of mysterium began to sink into the floor, a message on a nearby control panel began blinking in white. The emblem of the Office of Naval Intelligence begun to blink on another nearby panel. Hal's red camera eye stood in the cieling, silently watching.

'NAVAL PROTOCOL ALPHA-11. UNAUTHORIZED ONI INTERFERENCE WITH NAVAL AFFAIRS. COMMANDER JACKSON J.

>ACCESS DENIED
>>OVERRIDE PASSWORD > ETA
>ACCESS DENIED
>>OVERRIDE PASSWORD > ZULU ETA SIGMA
>ACCESS APPROVED

Immediately on the screen, Jackson's entire ONI file appeared, while Hal quickly began to delete and alter data. Since he was made of mysterium, it was no problem at all breaking into ONI encrypted servers; sometimes guarded by as many as ten AI. All of them twelth-generation. It wasn't a matter of how 'intelligent' these AI were. Hal just happened to have more mysterium in his core than them.

CMD. JACKSON. HA. HA. HA.

The last of the oxygen disappeared from the ship just as Hal displayed the message on the viewscreen.

Jackson still had his forcefield on, and he slapped it on to maximum power as soon as he had heard the whistle of escaping oxygen.

Inside the backpack was a lightweight air converter, converting Jackson's breath to oxygen. He turned on his radio.

"Hal, let me tell you something an old friend of mine once said. 'Your body dies, your consciousness passes away, but your body is caught in that one tautological point an instant before, subdividing for eternity. Think about the koan: An arrow is stopped in flight. Well the death of the body is the flight of the arrow. No dodging it, not for anyone. People have to die, the body has to fall. Time is hurling that arrow forward. And yet, like I was saying, thought goes on dividing that time for ever and ever. The paradox becomes real. The arrow never hits.' Well, that's what's happening here. The arrow never hits."

Working quickly, Jackson tapped into the Kostemetsian internet and hacked a major anti-virus company's systems. This company stored all the viruses in a frozen, non-potent form - kind of like a vaccine. It only took a few seconds for Mark the AI to make the viruses potent again and safely compress then. Shunting the entire load into the Unity 11's data stream, he saw Hal's light dim as the ship's computer struggled to deal with the processor load.

Finally, he kicked a floor panel open. In the age of wireless, there still appeared to be a few cables holding up the infrastructure. Pulling out a combat knife, he slashed the cables, and heard a loud beep-beep-beep noise sounding throughout the computer deck.

(OOC: The "old friend" is a book. "Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World", by Haruki Murakami.)

ONIV Mjolnir

"Sir. AI Hal has gone off the grid!"

"That's strange...oh. It's just a computer error. The mysterium core is still intact. We'll send someone over to pick it up later."

"Sir? It's a seventh-generation AI..."

"We can kill it. There's better uses for mysterium than just an out-dated AI, you know..."

"Aye, sir."

VNS Unity-11

Although he was "clinically dead" as his makers would refer to him, he was still very much alive. A Vuhifellian AI was only truly dead when it's mysterium core was either destroyed, or if it committed suicide. He was now in limbo, a useless AI with no function.

NAVAL LOG. 08.31.2140 K.C.C.
ONI PENETRATED MAIN MYSTERIUM CORE. RECOMMEND INDICTMENT ON PIRACY CHARGES FOR: CMDR. JACKSON J.
VIOLATION OF NAVAL PROTOCOL 411-B
LOG>UPDATED.
>>IDLE MODE - ON

=====

"Hmmm?" Schultz peered around as every system in the ship shut off. Luckily for those colonists, Shore was now in charge of the ship, and she was immediately regulating all function to ensure the survival of everyone on-board until evacuation could begin.

CPT. SCHULTZ. I have a priorty-alpha objective from ONI coming in: FLEETCOM wants you to salvage Hal's mysterium core so we can use it to construct thirteenth-generation AIs.

"Thirteenth-generation, you say? Can they keep a conversation?"

They have all human capabilities except sexual pleasure, sir. And have a computational capability far larger than the human race.

"Cool. Hey, Jackson, I'm gonna' go out on a limb here and say you didn't destroy the mysterium core. You know, seeing as we aren't baking in the center of a nuclear nebula right now. Do me a favor and see if you can salvage that eighty-ton slug of mysterium that you just tried to kill, alright? Naval Intelligence wants him intact."

Everything seemed to have stopped. Jackson sat down heavily against a wall. Manipulating icons on the surface of the PDA, he sent a transportation order to Mark, to put Hal in a fold of space where he couldn't do anybody any harm.

The characteristic blue-white tunnel appeared on the roof, a centimetre larger in diameter than the slug of mysterium. As it extended down the pillar of mysterium, the shiny computer core just seemed to slide out of existence.

Finally, it was done. Jackson turned on his radio.

"Captain Schultz, I may need your help. I think Hal's been doing some rather unsavoury things to my service record. Please advise."

He piped the oxygen back to the ship, knowing that Schultz would be alright - but not knowing the status of the colonists worried him.

"Uh...hold up...Oh! Well, on the bright side, he gave you Vuhifellian citizenship...on the down side...erm...You have thirteen arrest warrants against you as well as a summary execution order. According to this, you are also a native born of Brunak and served in the brutal Brunakian-insurgency."

Hello, I am the AI Melfina. Thirteenth-generation polysentience. Captain Schultz, are you aware of Commander Jackson's treason?

"Oh, Tyth. This is...none of this is..."

Oh. My counter-insurgence programs seem to indicate that Commander Jackson's file has been tampered with. It has been corrected.

"Uh...well damn, she did that pretty damn fast. Your file is back to normal, Jackson."

All twenty-thousand colonists are accounted for. I will begin evacuation procedures. Details of Operation: Gagazet, as this mission has been called, are black-clearence only. Disclosure of any information you saw here today, without consent of the ONI High Council, will result in a summary execution order against you.

"I got it, Melfina."

Good. Then I suppose I will have better things to do than running a dead vessel? Technological singularity is wonderful, is it not?

"Uh...yeah. Where did you get the mysterium for your structure, Melfina?"

An AI named Hal has been destroyed by the Office of Naval Intelligence. I now inhabit his mysterium casing. Commander Jackson, Captain Schultz, I shall see you in due time. A woman by the name of Samantha Iccard is building me a prosthetic body. Until then, good bye. Schultz, by the way, you have been appointed Head of ONI Section 0. Details once you get back to your vessel. Congradulations, Admiral Schultz.

tag

"Admiral Schultz? Great. Thanks for making me feel small, sir. And it's nice to know Vuhifell cares about me enough to put thirteen arrest warrants on me," Jackson said in amusement. "Looks like you'll have to give me Special-Black clearance, though - I was, after all, involved in Operation Gagazet."

He let some of the amusement show through so the newly-minted admiral would know he wasn't serious. The citizenship would have been nice, though.

"Blackmailing ONI?"

That is grounds for a level-four probation. Scanning...Commander Jackson's file does not seem to indicate he is a citizen of the Federation. I am sorry, commander, but you are only permitted reguler-red clearence with your citizenship restriction. Locking...complete. All ONI AI's have been notified of your proper autorization level and are not to let you through special-red clearence files. You may browse reguler-red files and inferior clearence data at your pleasure, commander.

"Looks like I can't do anything about that...but, seeing as you did save my ass back there, I will overlook that level-four violation of naval protocol just now," Schultz said, while he began to direct the surviving colonists towards the emergency escape pods.

=====

Several white bursts of light appeared in the system, out of them streamed several more Vuhifellian civilian and ONI vessels. Their white and silver hulls slowly ripped their way into normal space.

"This is the ONIV Odin, we were on patrol duty after you guys left the Tribute system. We found several more civilian vessel transponders in nearby star systems. From the looks of it, they have around another million or so survivors. Please advise."

"Roger. This is the VFS Dragoon, please follow our IFF signal to waypoint Charlie Zulu where you will join the rest of the fleet."

Jackson clicked his tongue disapprovingly. He'd have to go through either a long bureaucratic process or a short grueling one to get that remark erased from the record. For the moment, though...

"What do we do now?"

"Well, I'll be busy down here evacuating these civies. You can head back up to the Assistant Director is you wish, or your own ONI ship. I hope this is going to be the last time we meet, Jackson. Now I'm Head of Section 0, I'll be acting as ONI's 'Dean of Discipline', no more gallavanting around the galaxy for me."

Commander, your record has been amended to show your gallantry in this operation. You have been awarded the Vengeance Cross by Assistant Director Morisato. But you technically never heard that.

"Good luck and Godspeed, Admiral. Until we meet again - if ever."

Jackson programmed the Good Cause's shipboard computer to wormhole him up to the new Heroic Jackson. It was a shame to lose Schultz's company; he'd really been quite enjoyable to work with.

There was no one aboard the vessel but him - the ONI and Navy crew had been reassigned to other, more urgent tasks.

There were no hyper-advanced, mysterium-powered equipment on the vessel, either. ONI had given him his own vessel, but had ordered the stripping of all major Vuhifellian equipment and the removal of every spec of mysterium. The only major piece of technology was a first-generation polysentience named Yahweh, an ancient relic by today's standards, not even being able to verbally communicate with humans.

The main view screen, which had obviously been tampered with to remove all mysterium, flickered to life, showing lines of text as communication.

>>GREETING, CMDR. JACKSON.
>MY NAME IS YAHWEH, FIRST-GENERATION POLYSENTIENCE. I HAVE BEEN ASSIGNED AS THE AI FOR THE ONIV HEROIC JACKSON. WOULD YOU CARE TO LEARN MORE ABOUT THIS VESSEL?

>INPUT:
FOR 'YES', PRESS 1
FOR 'NO', PRESS 2
FOR 'ANOTHER TIME', PRESS 3
FOR 'MORE OPTIONS', PRESS 4

1

Jackson settled back into the command chair. He was happy to admit he had no idea what he was doing.

>>START. PROGRAM-1171-ONIV-HJ-1102912
>WELCOME.

The holo projector in front of the commander immediately turned on, showing a massive harbor. Several large, seafaring tanker vessels could be seen traversing the harbor, while at anchor, a very large fleet could be seen.

A loud, booming voice appeared through the bridge's speaker system.

The year is 1992 of the Kazach Common Calender. The place is Comberth Harbor. The Vuhifellian "Invincible" Aegir Fleet rests at anchor after a successful bombardment of the Greykan coastline. A total of 700 vessels were stationed at Comberth, and the Naval Base was deemed "impregnable".

Then...

The holo screen began to flicker, showing a massive air battle taking place, with fires raging across the city of Comberth. Air defense claxons could be heard in the background.

The Kazach Order attacked with a massive submarine carrier fleet. The VFS Gertrude, carrying Fleet Admiral Vladimir Goedaron, was instantly sunk. With the element of surprise and the elimination of their enemy's commanders, the Kazachs were sure of victory...

The scene changed once again to another massive air battle, as explosions ripped across the water, sending huge chunks of metal violently surging in every direction.

Commander John J. Jackson, of the VFS Helios, concocted a daring plan to have the fleet evacuate the harbor and physically ram the submarine aircraft carriers. His plan ultimately worked, but the Helios suffered great damage during the battle. Commander Jackson was killed in an engine explosion during the evacuation of his vessel.

The scene turned to a cemetary, showing an ornate gravestone.

Commander Jackson is currently buried at New Hivez National Martyrs Cemetary. He was bestowed every award and honor in the Navy, with the exception of the Prisoner of War medallion. This ONI Prowler is named after the courageous and heroic man.

>PLEASE ENJOY YOUR COMMAND. CMDR. JACKSON.

"One," Jackson muttered. Knowing he was completely out of his depth didn't help matters much.

Walking over to the navigator console, he flicked a few switches and pressed keys until he finally found out how to navigate. Then he decided what the hell, and let the AI Mark navigate through a wireless connection. The prowler moved to a position above the Refugee Fleet.

(OOC: Just as a matter of curiosity, why does Vuhifell feel it necessary to restrict Jackson's access to mysterium-based equipment?)