NationStates Jolt Archive

Personal log of Sid, House of Aries. Acting captain of AIV Destiny:

It has been sixteen months since Cirrus fell. Sixteen months since our people were pushed to the brink of extinction. Sixteen months of ever-dimming hopes.

*sigh* …I never considered myself to be a poet, or a writer. I’ve always been the fighter, the warrior. Harsh times due weird things to people, I guess. No, not guess. Know. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen the entire crew go from mostly happy and optimistic to hollow shells of their former selves. As if the life was sucked right out of them. I can’t blame them.

Sixteen months ago, we lost our homes, our families, our entire way of life. We lost everything we held dear. And in a way, we even lost Atlantia. Our former empress is hardly ever seen these days, usually hauling herself up in her quarters, in the dark. One can only speculate what she does in there, but I can guess *why* she’s in there. She took the fall of Atlantis harder then anyone, and I know why…at least partly. I think.

Xolin and Trok…my two former teammates. We’re all that’s left of our ranger team, cut down from five to three. They continue with their work, Trok down in engineering and Xolin in security. We don’t mention it, but I know they miss Sel and Coros as much as I do, if not more.

I’m glad to see at least one happy couple onboard. Xol and Sing seem to bring a slightly happier atmosphere with them wherever they go—and I’m glad to have them as a team at nav and tactical. And even if Xol’s a royal pain in the ass, he’s still a damned good first officer. Although I suspect he’s still pissed off that I pulled rank on him to get the spot of captain.

Since the Demon onslaught, what few ships we could find followed us back to Sol, where we licked our wounds at Hope shipyards, deep in the Kuiper belt. What few evacuee ships were ordered to send their people down to the surface of Selene, the minor planet we were in orbit around. The planet was already being outfitted with stable colony settlements, so we lucked out in that case. Still...

There are about six million of us, at last count. Every so often another ship comes through, needing aid. We render assistance, and offer them a home. What little home we can, at any rate. There are rumors of other Atlantean factions out there, surviving. We can only hope.

I don’t know why I’m saying all of this now. I must have said it at least a hundred times by now in my logs, both personal and official. I…I guess I just need to talk about it, and I have no desire to see a psych. Not my style. I have a persona to uphold. That of a strong leader. I can’t show weakness. I can’t give in.

*another sigh* The Destiny is currently perusing (former) Atlantean space, the Gree system. We’re scouting for any ships that may have returned hoping to find some sort of haven. But we’ve detected a strange reading near the first planet in the system, so we’re going to check it out.

We haven’t seen any Demon activity for awhile, so we’re hoping this isn’t a trap. But you never know. So for that reason, as always, we’re doing this under cloak. Stealth is the only ally we have these days…

Atlantian space...

A treasure hunter's dream. Shattered fleets littered systems, just waiting to be plundered by the soul brave enough to face the dangers of prowling around seemingly dead Demon ships.

At the moment though, there was no such thing on the mind of Natalie Ransom.

Her ship sat in an odd orbit, keeping the planet nearest the star in between the ship and the roiling surface beyond. There was good reason for it... work crews were crawling over the surface of the behemoth ship, repairing various systems by hand.

"Ma'am... we just got a sensor hit. Someone is in the system with us."

Ransom turned on the science officer, who was double her age. "Type, tonnage and nationality. Now."

The man looked up and shook his head. "Too far out. I got a partial reading that points towards Atlantian engines... not that it means anything these days. They're either cloaked or running silent." Indeed, their own ship was sporting an Atlantian engine in one of the outboard pods.

"Keep the crews working until the last possible minute. Bring the magnetic cannons to hot standby." Ransom turned back towards the screen. Her ship was the toughest she had ever seen, but she didn't relish a fight in the middle of a maintenance cycle. "No active scans... Don't reveal our position anymore than it already is."

The ship's energy signature would fluctuate a tad as the cannons came online, further stating that there was something odd in orbit of the closest planet. Little did the Destiny know that they were arriving on the doorstep of the Archangel, which had been the only ship to have fought in nearly every major battle of the Second Demon War and come out of it without more than moderate damage. When it came to defenses and weapons, the ship wasn't a battleship, it was a battlestation in ship form.

"No good. I can't get any sort of good reading while under cloak" Sing rolled her seat around to face the captain. She threw her hands up in the air in defeat, a slightly annoyed look on her face.

Sid squeezed the middle of his forehead, rubbing the skin with his fingertips as he thought it over. It was a tradeoff. Power down the cloak and get back virtually every other major system and alert the system to their presence, or sit still...blind. He glanced at Xol, sitting next to Sing at tactical. He was staring back at the captain, with occasional glances at his wife. Silence reigned in the darkened room for several seconds, until Sid finally nodded.

"Do it"

A rippling effect distorted the view of stars in the background as a small vessel, not much longer then 260 meters, emerged into view of the normal light spectrum. It was dark colored, with strips of glowing turquoise blue lining bits of the hull. The overall shape was that of a giant predatory bird, its wingspan pointed downward under the main column of the vessel where the bridge lay.

http://img101.imageshack.us/img101/2698/destinyxo1.jpg

It was the first of its class, the Destiny. Originally designed as a heavy strike cruiser, it was fast, maneuverable, and armed to the teeth. It had incorporated the very best of Atlantean technology, and whatever scientists had been able to pull off the Demon derelict. The first ship, the one that was now parked in this system, was the only one completed before the end of the war. Eleven others had been under construction, and were not completed at Hope Shipyards until after the fall of Atlantean Federation. These twelve ships now stood as the defiant core of the remnant of the Atlantean fleet, alongside what few (about seven) capital ships had survived the war.

The lights on the bridge flashed on as the power was now redirected to every other system on the ship. Every scar of battle the small ship had faced now littered the bridge. Darkened parts of the walls and counters from burns, stains on the floor from fallen officers, and who knew what else.

"Alright, Sing. You got what you wanted. Give me what I want" said Sid. He didn't use ranks, he had never been comfortable with them. In the heat of battle, he preferred to rely on actual names, not ranks that could apply to several people.

The woman nodded, and spun the chair back around, starting up the full scanner system. This had to be done fast, just in case there *was* something out there...

"Got it! Sensor contact has decloaked and is scanning this area. Unknown type, tonnage says warship. Atlantean power systems." Again, that meant little these days.

Ransom scowled. "Dammit. They know we're here then. Well, let's scare the bastards off." She stood. "Open a system wide audio channel." As soon as she got the nod from communications, she smirked. This was reminding her of the old days with Im...

"Unidentified warship, this is Shiplord Natalie Ransom of the gunship Archangel." She hoped the name would be enough to spook any pirates. Maybe a small bluff would help too. "You will identify yourself immediately or be destroyed." Ransom nodded at the science officer.

==========

Just as the Destiny would get a good reading on the Archangel, the sensors would pick up half a dozen alerts, all power weapons. They read as Olympian cruisers and frigates, but there was no way in hell the Destiny could have missed such ships as they traveled through the system. Olympian warships were simply too big and emitted too much energy to be overlooked.

Either way, it was a sight sure to scare the hell out of pirates... a juggernaut of a ship in front of them and half a dozen warships behind. Ransom's voice rolled out again. "Ten seconds."

(OOC: assuming that this is OPEN. If not, tell me and I'm gone...)

"Looks like we lost 'em," said the nav officer. "I don't read any Imperial ships on scanners."
"Take us out of warp," ordered the captain. "Stand down weapons." The ship (http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h52/nx9100/lastscan.jpg) dropped to sublight within the unknown system. At nearly 850 meters long and covered with plasma cannons, this was no mere raider, but a heavely armed pirate warship. Captain Drakor relaxed in his chair. He was of average build for human and wore a heavy, black coat that stretched to his feet. On his head was a large black hat. (ooc: picture Barbosa from 'Pirates', but about 45 years old and black hair.) "What's the nearest port to our po-"
"Captain, I reading another ship in the system!"
Drakor shot to his feet. "Is it an Imperial?"
"No, sir. I don't know what it is! Here!" he put an image of the bird-ship on the screen. "Anyone care to guess?"
"Let me see those readings," said an old man at the engineering station. "Hmmm. Looks like an Atlantian power signature."
Drakor turned to face the old man. "You know that ship?"
"Not the ship, the power signature," he replied. "I used to work on an old freighter that had an Atlantian core. Before I signed on with your crew."
A large, muscular man stepped forward. "Should we contact, attack, or run?" he asked.
Drakor returned to his chair. "Silence for now. Let's see what they do next. But have all weapons and engines ready for fight or flight..."

"Got it" said Sing, still going over the incoming information. Her face lit up, "It's the Archangel!"

A beeping sound from her communications terminal caused her to look over at it. "Sid, we've got an incoming message. They know we're here"

"Put it on" said Sid, getting up out of his chair. Sing pressed 'play'.

Unidentified warship, this is Shiplord Natalie Ransom of the gunship Archangel. You will identify yourself immediately or be destroyed.

"Oh, she'll do it too" Xol muttered under his breath.

Sing's eyes widened as more data poured in. "Uh...guys? We got multiple weapon signatures directly behind us. Olympian signatures! They're all aimed directly for us!"

"That's impossible" Sid ran over to her seat, now slightly panicking. Just slightly. "We would have at least *detected* something following us"

"I figured we'd be slagged by Demons, not the supposed good guys" Xol muttered again. No one paid attention.

Ten seconds

"Open a channel" said Sid, "Audio *and* visual. Now"

A young man, seemingly in his mid to late twenties, would appear on screen, surrounded by a small war-torn bridge. His short hair was silver, indicating that he may just be an Atlantean.

"This is the AIV Destiny. What the hell, Archangel!?"

Ransom arched an eyebrow as the Atlantean commander appeared on screen. She knew an Atlantean when she saw one, having fought along side them for over a year. "Forgiveness... It's just that I don't see official Atlantean warships too often these days." She looks at the science officer in the background and he hits a control... and all the sensor readings of the Olympian craft vanish, instead replaced by energy signatures from what appear to be scout ships. Intimidation was a powerful tool...

She herself was on a bridge that had seen better days, but was wearing a uniform that was distinctly Olympian. Apparently her crew had joined the fleet officially. "With so many pirates about, we're a little on edge. At the moment, we are undergoing repairs to our starboard weapons array and tuning up a couple of the engines. I assume you can guess that this reduces our combat effectiveness greatly... hence the ruse."

The science officer spoke in the background. "Shiplord... I got FTL transition signature a moment ago. It's well away, but it looked to be of heavy cruiser tonnage. With the sensors partially down, I can't give any exacts."

Ransom looked irritated and shook her head. "Track them... if they're stupid enough to attack the Archangel and an Atlantean warship together, they deserve to be turned to slag. Otherwise, ignore them. And code this transmission." Whatever was said next would be swallowed in electronic pops and whistles.

Ransom returned to her command chair. "Destiny... you've made part of my job a lot easier. I was actually looking for any sign that the Atlantean Navy was still intact. All sides in the War fared poorly and it will take time to rebuild all of us to previous strengths."

OOC: Auburn, it’s open as long as you continue to post. You suddenly drop from the thread while things are going on, and I will probably hunt you down, rip out your throat, and beat you with it. That applies to everyone else who wants to join from here on out too.

^_^

IC:

Taking a deep sigh of relief, Sid nodded as he took in the information. Ironic, really. It had been as if the system was a haunted house, with both ships running into and startling each other before realizing who they were. As Ransom began having one of her crewmembers tracking something, Sid glanced down at Sing, who nodded as they exchanged a conversation without even speaking. She had detected the same blip, and was now in the process of locating and confirming what that ship had been.

Sid withheld a dark chuckle at Ransom’s summarization of the war’s resolution. ‘Poorly’ was by far the biggest understatement of the century. This hadn’t been a war. It had been genocide.

“Depends on how you define ‘intact’, shiplord” Sid replied, back to using ranks. No use provoking an incident now for no reason. “If you mean it to imply some of us managed to flee before being vaporized, then yes, we’re intact. Less then a hundred of us ranked at light cruiser type or above, but we’re intact. We and whatever survivors we could scrounge up have been holding out on the outskirts of Sol, in the Kuiper Belt. Our shipyards there were the only place the Demons didn’t attack—they were probably worried about retaliation from Sol”

He sighed again, “Pardon us for not being very…easy to find. When your entire civilization is wiped clean from the map, one tends not to try and be as visible on the scene as possible”

(OOC: Got it.)


Drakor leaned forward in his chair. "Well," he asked. "What are they doing?"
"Looks like we're being ignored," replied the sailor at the sensor station.
"I'm picking up signals," reported the comm officer, "Can't unscramble them, though."
"Let's go say hello," said Drakor. "Take us in, slowly. And keep weapons on standby." The big ship began to move into the system, the barrells of its massive double-turrets begining to glow orange, while sliding panels moved to cover the Jolly Roger's painted on the hull...

"This is Captain Drakor, master of the Black Pearl. We are, explorers of a sort, and just happened into the system. You wouldn't happen to be carrying any, valuable cargo now?"

Ransom nodded, slowly. "I'm well aware of what happened to your people and I'm very sorry I couldn't stop it. I tried... but even this ship can't stop that level of devastation. Right now, the remnants of the Olympian fleet have reforged into a new alliance. The Free Species Union. All eight species that served the aliens posing as your gods are now united under a council that is currently trying to locate somewhere to rebuild..." Still keeping the lie about the Olympians going, in case the truth hadn't been told already.

"I am under orders to locate and make contact with a ship from your fleet and re-establish diplomatic ties. We don't abandon our allies. Ever." She was about to go on when the other ship's message came over the speakers. If that didn't sound like a pirate's opening line, she was really a tentacle monster in disguise. Ransom turned towards the science officer, who was busy at the controls.

"Shiplord, the Black Pearl has weapons online."

"Get all the work crews inside. Now." Ransom sighed. That would take at least five minutes. She keyed the comm open. "Black Pearl, this is Shiplord Natalie Ransom of the Gunship Archangel." A name that should be rather infamous with pirates, as it used to be part of Task Force Renegade, a group of ships that survived without a nation by hunting pirates and plundering them for supplies. Karmic retribution and all that. She doesn't let on about the knowledge of the weapons "We are not carrying any type of cargo other than ammunition. What is your purpose in this system?"

"This is Captain Drakor, master of the Black Pearl. We are, explorers of a sort, and just happened into the system. You wouldn't happen to be carrying any, valuable cargo now?"

Man, they really arn't subtle, are they? Sid thought to himself, before issuing the order. "All hands, red alert. Power up all weapons, but do not acquire targets yet. I really do *not* want to have to scratch the paint on the ship today"

Damned buzzards...

The small bird of prey, now near the Archangel, began to turn on its axis to face the pirate ship nearing them. Shields were up, and weapons were running hot. Sid didn't reply to the pirates, however. He figured Ransom was doing a fine enough job as it was.

A gasp went arround the bridge. "The Archangel?" said one of the younger sailors. "Isn't that the ship that took down the Intruder?"
"Yah!" cried another, "and the Waltrip's Pride?"
"Enough!" ordered Drakor. "Move us towards the planet. The rumrunner's storehouse is in one of the mountains. While we're hear, we might as well help ourselves. Scan for the becon, and prepare a shuttle." The Pearl began to move towards the planet, her 10 double plasma turrets and 38 laser cannons glowing...

"This is Captain Drakor. We believe that we will find a small storehouse on that planet, and wish to, 'inspect', the contents. We can do this the easy way, or, there is that 'other' way..."

Threatening a ship that can core a battleship with one hit? Alright... let them come. The ship rotated as the last of the work crews were entering the airlocks.

The Archangel (http://img81.imageshack.us/img81/3199/renegadegunshipry4.png) was larger than most nation's battleships and in an instant, it showed why it was to be feared... ten shields raised around it's thickly armored hull. Three stolen Xanthalian triple shields and a hull hugging last resort shield. The two main magnetic cannons, which could fire anything from millions of bowling ball sized spheres to slugs the size of houses.

"There's only two ways to do anything when you deal with pirates... the fun way or... well, no, I guess there's just one way. Fire port side mag." The transmission cut off on that ominous note and a massive energy flare showed up on sensors as a house sized slug was accelerated to 1/1000 the speed of light(669,000 mph) in a matter of a half second. There was an immense amount of heat being dumped from the ass end of the ship after the shot was off, as the cannons used empty space as a heat sink. Inefficient, but it worked.

Ransom's choice to engage was odd, considering she wasn't being directly threatened by the pirates... but she had lived her whole life killing and hunting down pirate cartels. She had survived on plundering what the pirates had plundered. She wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

"Captain! They've fired on us!"
Drakor jumped up from his chair, "Full shields!" he ordered. "Bring our broadside to bear! Vent the shuttlebay! Prepare for impact!" The massive ship (http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h52/nx9100/lastscan.jpg) began to rotate to face its portside to the Archangel . The regenerative shields, stolen from a Terren derelict, snapped on the instant before the projectile hit. While the shields absorbed most of the impact, the shot still penatrated the hull, right between the 1st and 2nd shuttlebay doors. "Damage report!" yelled Drakor.
"Shields down 70 percent, but regenerating!" cried the 1st mate. "Heavy damage to the shuttlebay! Repair teams are on it!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Prepare a broadside!" All ten of the Pearl's double plasma turrets, making twenty cannons, trained to fire on the Archangel. "All cannons ready!" said the 1st mate.
"FIRE!!"
Twenty bolts of plasma, traveling at near-warp speeds, hurtled twards the Archangel....

OOC: Auburn, for the record, the first planet in the system is a solid ball of really hot dirt, a la Mercury. You can have a stash there, but I *really* doubt there's such a thing as an island.

IC:

Another sigh. Sid groaned as he plopped down in his seat. Great. Combat. Yay. He was hoping he could have avoided that today. Regardless, he couldn't let Ransom have *all* the fun...

"Sing, take us in, full impulse. Xol, target the enemy ship and open fire once we're within range. Focus on shields until they're down, then target major turrets. Let Ransom deal with its hull"

The smaller ship near the Archangel flew under the larger ship, coming out from under it towards the pirate ship. Whereas the Archangel was slow and powerful, the Destiny was designed for quick movements and swarm tactics. It moved like a (really, really) large fighter, zipping over the larger pirate vessel as it opened fire with its forward beam cannons and energy pulse turrets. It's aim? The plasma turrets.

(OOC: oops, missed that. my bad. Post edited...)

"The other ship is attacking! Shields now at 45 percent"
Drakor was now standing prowdly in front of his chair, hands on his hips. "More for the taking! Move it lads! Get the shields back up to full! Ready torpedoes! Target the second ship with the laser cannons! Fire at will" He actually seemed to be enjoying himself! Drakor loved ordering people arround.
The 38 laser cannons, 19 on each side, started tracking and fireing on the smaller ship. Their rapid fire, designed to take out swarms of fighters, would surely defen against a single ship...

The ship rocked from the hits. "Status."

"Outer shields down to 90%. Second layer to 93. No further damage."

Ransom smiled a hawklike grin that reminded the crew of Im Kmmta, the previous commander of the Archangel. "Fire all weapons... Take care to miss the Atlanteans, but not so much you miss the pirates too."

Now the ship showed more of it's uniqueness... a hundred different weapons of half a dozen designs and species started firing. Missiles, plasma, Atlantean phasers, smaller magnetic cannons and the starboard mag-cannon. It was oversized and overgunned for it's duties as a long range artillery piece. It was a mobile weapons platform with a kill record equal to most fleets. Especially after over a year in the Second Demon War, where the gunship decimated the enemy lines regularly and rarely received any major armor damage. She was the only ship to go through the whole war without a single fatality despite being in major combat nearly constantly.

"Don't worry about cargo damage... we aren't going to be raiding her. Just remove her from existence so we can carry on with our repairs."

The onslaught would continue without mercy, the giant ship remaining stationary, except for rotation and pitch.

The bridge shuttered as the barrage of firepower rocked the Destiny.

"Shields are falling...70 percent and dropping, some of the energy's getting past and impacting the hull" Xol called out, holding on as another quake nearly rocked him from his seat. Sparks flew from a nearby terminal.

Sid was also clutching onto his seat. Retractive Ablative armor, a mini Neutron Cannon, an experimental phase cloak...a flotilla of new top-of-the-line and impressive hardware, and he couldn't use a single one. Damned new technology was too high-costing in energy, he couldn't spare it. Irony.

"Take us out, Sing!" he ordered over the alarms and another blast of sparkage in the background, "Move us *away* from them. Give the shields a breather!"

The Destiny veered away from the heavy cruiser as it reached its backside, firing its rear weaponry, including a batch of quantum torpedoes.

The enemy ship was well-equipped to handle strike cruisers and small craft. An underestimation on Sid's part. The Destiny wasn't nearly as effective alone as it was in a group, it just didn't have the sheer firepower to go up against a capital ship without a wing protecting it.

"Captain! We canna take much more of this!" cried the 1st mate.
Drakor picked himself off of the floor, and shoved the body of a sailor off his chair. "Keep the guns firing, boys! Give her all she's got! Status"
"Shields nearly gone! The hanger has been blown open! Turrets 3, 7, and 8 are dead!" the mate grabbed Drakor's chair, "We must withdraw!"
"Fine!" Drakor, slumped into his chair. "Cease Fire! Send all crews on repair duty! Get the warp engines online!"
"Warp nacelles damaged. We're stuck!"
"Then activate the hyperdrive! Set course for the Hills!" Drakor rubbed the sore on his head. "Cut power to weapons! Lower the shields!"
The entire bridge crew froze and turned to face the captain, "Sir?"
"DO it!" ordered Drakor. "Pretend to surrender. Make ready for lightspeed!"
"Hyperdrive coming online now..."

"Archangel, this is Drakor. I am clearly outmatched, and will shut down all my weapons. Name your terms."

Ransom stood slowly as she watched the enemy ship start to burn... "Keep firing... put another mag round up their ass." As the port side cannon launched another round, the message came through...

Immediately, Ransom keyed the comm. "You want terms? Well, I'll give you some choices in the phrasing... 'die slowly', 'die painfully' or 'die slowly and painfully'."

Drakor listened to the signal, "Hahahahahahahaha! I like this Ransom!"
"Like her?!" Cried the a sailor, "she's trying to kill us!"
"The key word is try," Drakor sat in his command chair. "Hyperdrive?"
"We're lucky that last shot didn't hit it!" replied the helmsman, "Engaging now!"
"Hold together..." Drakor muttered, hoping the damaged ship would survive the jump. Sure enough, the hull groaned, and buckled in a few places. But this was a strong-built hull, and she managed to make the transition to hyperspace. But not before sending one last message...

"My dear Captain Ransom. Not many have bested me so easily. Should you find yourself in a better mood in the future, I'd love the chance to buy you a drink. Drakor out."

(ooc: I'll be back tomorrow)

The Destiny came to a halt a thousand meters away from the Archangel.

"Damage report" Sid hollered, bracing himself.

"Uh..we got off easy. Some minor damage to the hull and some subsystems like long range sensors and a few turrets, but we're good to go. The shields will need time to regenerate" Xol replied, reading off the incoming list, "We got a couple wounded down on D deck"

"Good" Sid replied, "Lets hope we don't get any more unwelcome visitors. Open a channel back up to the Archangel"

Audio and visual came back up between ships. Sid waved, a slight smirk on his face. "Hey. So, what were we talking about before we got interrupted?"

Ransom watched the pirate leap away, while leaving a few chunks of ship behind. "I'd still shoot you..." She says to dead air, before turning towards the operations station. "Stand down battlestations and continue repairs..."

She looked at the screen as she sat and sighed, "I believe it was rebuilding this chunk of the galaxy so assholes like that don't take over." She chuckles and leans back. "The Archangel is unable to leave at the moment, but we can send a message to Im Kmmta and have him meet you in a system you control. There's currently one Union fleet in the galaxy, spread out a bit... hunting for any little pockets of Demon activity that managed to survive the war and for any sign of your forces. I imagine he would be very pleased to speak with you."

"Tell him we're in Sol's Kuiper Belt. Selene, a small minor planet. It's pretty much all we have any sort of control over. We'd stick around with you until your engines were working again, but well..." Sid shrugged, grinning, obviously referring to the Archangel's seeming indestructibleness.

Ransom chuckled. "If he decides to come back with friends... he'll find us with a few friends of our own. I'll be requesting a cruiser come and stand watch, just in case."

The signal terminated and a tightbeam signal was sent to several different points, picking up on the hidden relay network that covers roughly a quarter of the galaxy.

=========

Im Kmmta strode onto the bridge of his new battleship. His previous command, the Trident, had suffered destruction in a battle just over six months ago. The last battle of the war, in fact. Now he sat on the bridge of that classes' sucessor. Larger, more powerful, deadlier and faster... and with enough cargo space to serve as a short term colony ship.

More than it's contruction was the crew... a full compliment of all the species of the Union made it up. His own species was the Banar and made up most of the command staff, with the insect-like Xon handed navigation and the sciences, a species that resembled flesh toned Incredible Hulks handled heavy lifting tasks on autopilot while their minds higher functions worked out engineering and science problems, while Terrans did much of the actual engineering work and the last two species handled security. One was the twelve Cerberus' onboard(including Argo) and the other the Mesos, a species that resembles the Jaguar/Panther beasts of ancient Mesoamerica mythology.

"Take us out and jump for the coordinates provided by the Archangel..."

Sol. The birthplace of humanity. And for the second time in their history, the adopted home of Atlantis. The first time had resulted from the destruction of their interstellar civilization at the hands of the Zoir. A colony ship had determined Earth to be a prime target for colonization, regardless of the Neolithic civilizations slowly developing.

Now, for a second time, an alien species had ended Atlantean civilization, sending the few survivors fleeing to the outskirts of the Sol system, to the one bastion of power they had left. The wheel of fate and history continued to turn; creation, sustainment, death…

That bastion of power was Hope Shipyards. Originally an LRR created yard, named Starchaser 2, nothing much remained from its original design, now in the familiar pyramid shape of an Atlantean Citadel class Starbase (http://img265.imageshack.us/img265/9392/citadelstarbaseha9.jpg), a massive ten kilometers in hight. It orbited a minor planet, not much bigger then Sedna, named Selene. It was colonized—at least about as much as a small icy body on the fringe of a system could *be* colonized, with a substantial underground network of man-made caves and surface stations. A small mining base also existed on one of the three asteroid moons orbiting the planet. Orbit was abuzz with activity, several dozen cruisers and capital ships made their runs from one end of the planet to the other on patrol, while some remained in drydock under repair or on a resupply trip. Over two hundred non-combat ships (cargo vessels, mining freighters, transports, and medical ships) ferried their way from moon to planet to starbase, on various duties. All in all, this was the remnant of the Atlantean people as far as they knew. A mere six million people, huddled together on an unforgiving ball of ice, awaiting the day when the Demons would finally come for them and end the torment once and for all.

A flickering of light. A subspace portal opened, revealing the soft bluish glow of subspace as the Destiny re-emerged into normal space a short distance from Selene.

***

“Hope’s accepted our confirmation. Standing by to let them pull us in” Sing said, pushing her console away from her. She leaned back, putting herself in a relaxing position.

“Easy, Sing. We’re not off-duty *just* yet” Sid replied, a smile on his face. She sat back up with a slightly grumpy face on as Sid stood up. “I’ll be at the docking port, if anyone needs me” with that, Sid turned and made for the turbolift.

***

“Sid”

The commander turned around, five seconds after getting off the turbolift on C deck. To his right came Xolin, the current security chief, and former teammate to Sid.

“Oh, hey. Can…I help you?”

“We’ve got an update” she said simply. Sid blinked, not quite understanding. She sighed in annoyance and threw him a padd. He glanced at it, his confused face suddenly becoming clear.

“Oh…”

“Seems that the doctors think he’s going to wake up soon. What state his mind’s going to be in is a completely different matter”

Sid scrolled down the padd for a moment, then threw it back to Xolin in mild disgust as he continued his walk down to the docking ports. “I don’t give a shit about his mind, I just want answers”

“Answers or vengeance?” asked Xolin, following him, “Attacking him won’t bring back—” she was stopped in her tracks when Sid spun back around with a very angry face.

“What? Bring back Sel and Coros? Of course it won’t. But I still want to see that justice is served. Even if everything else goes to Hades, at least *this* will be a victory”

She shook her head in disapproval, but continued to follow him as he made his way. “I was also asked by Atlantia if we could stock something *other* then the damn nutritional bars we’ve been living off of”

Sid gave a small laugh, “your words or hers?”

“Hers, I swear” Xolin made a hand motion with both hands, as if to clear herself of responsibility, but added, “Although I can’t say I disagree”

A little more absently, Sid replied, “Remember when we could use replicators? When we didn’t need to be concerned about conserving energy? Or when we at the very least had actual food production on planets?”

“We can’t live on these things forever, Sid” she replied, waving a small bar she had picked from her pocket as they reached the docking port’s doors, “People need real food, not army rations”

A sigh, “I know, I know. The council knows, the admirals know, everyone knows. But its going to take a long time to get those artificial farms on the planet working, and even longer to get a good harvest to feed six million people”

“There’s going to be riots soon, you know. We only have so many bars”

“I know” he whispered, as the door opened…

It took two days to get to the goal, without leaving a trail behind them for any nosey ship to follow. Emerging from a rip in space, the battleship (http://img239.imageshack.us/img239/4552/renegadenewbattleshipdk1.jpg) reoriented itself to the sight before it... Sol. A place he had visited only once. He didn't like it now any better than the last time. "Scan the area... find the Atlanteans."

That took ten minutes, as the battleship was some ways away... as soon as the planetoid was located, the ship cruised directly towards it, quite a different ship than the Atlanteans would remember Im flying. The ship was obviously similar to the Trident, but it was a drastically different class..

Im eyed the ships ahead of him. They were too few in number... the colony unsustainable without outside help... it reminded him of how he lived for nearly five years. They have become what they looked down upon so long ago. They are in the same boat the Renegades were in. Hopefully, they won't be this way for eighty years like the Renegades. He stood and nodded for the comm to be opened.

A bridge much like the Trident's would appear. Multi-leveled and lit in warm, soothing colors. Standing at the command chair with Argo at his side and four different species (the Banar, Xon, Terran and Mesos) species around him, Im looked like he did at the start of the Second Demon War. Confidant, yet there was subdued anger roiling under the surface... anger at the Gods. "Atlantean forces, this is Fleetlord Im Kmmta, commanding officer of the Free Species Battleship Atlantia." he hoped the name would make an impression... as far as he knew, Atlantia was dead and the most fitting memorial in his mind was to name the flagship of a new alliance, based on absolute truth, after her. "It's been over a year since we last saw each other... Too long. Now we offer our assistance in your efforts to rebuild."

OOC: w00t, better account

IC:

"Sir, we're getting a transmission"

"Put it on"

Atlantean forces, this is Fleetlord Im Kmmta, commanding officer of the Free Species Battleship Atlantia. It's been over a year since we last saw each other... Too long. Now we offer our assistance in your efforts to rebuild.

A few eyebrows were raised in central ops of Hope station over the name of his ship. The commander, seemingly in her 40's, crossed her arms. This was interesting...if not a bad omen. The last time Im had appeared, well...that went without saying.

"Welcome to Selene, Fleetlord" she replied, "I am commander Inuik of Hope Station. What can we do for you?"

He had mentioned rebuilding, but...that was really, really vague.

***

Being the captain of a starship required skills, some more specialized then others. Being able to multitask, thinking though a situation in a moment, diplomacy, a basic knowledge of one's starship and how the engines, weapons, and systems worked...

...and, according to Sid, how to balance a pencil on his nose. The young commander had kept this going for about fifteen seconds now, in the darkness of his readyroom, almost a new record. Just five more---

BEEP.

The pencil dropped onto the floor. Cursing, Sid turned his chair to face away from the window, towards his desk, leaning forward. Pressing a button, a small thin screen came up. It was Xol.

"He's here"

"Who's here?"

"Who do you *think*?"

"Oh, him" Sid leaned back again. "Cool. And?"

"...oh, I don't know. Perhaps you'd like to ask him out to lunch? Those nutritional bars are a WONDERFUL feast, by the way" Xol said, the sarcastic tone evident in his voice.

"Oh, don't you start" Sid grumbled.

Xol sighed, "Just go tell the empress, would you?"

"Why do *I* have to be the one to tell her?"

"Captain's honor" Xol made a sickly sweet smile that gave the message of "you're dead meat"

Sid sighed. "Fine, fine. Guess I might as well get it over with"

"You really think she's going to be angry?"

"Its hard to tell what she's thinking these days"

"No, no. I mean...you havn't told her, have you?"

"I was getting to it...it...just never seemed right"

"Oh for the love of...good luck, man. You know how she handles bombshells these days" with that, Xol vanished from the screen. Sid gulped.

Im arched an eyebrow and the insectoid at the controls of the helm tilted it's head slowly, almost comically. That... wasn't the response they expected. Im slowly descended towards the bottom level and cleared his throat, "Um... several days ago, the Destiny made contact with the Archangel. After briefly teaming up to dispatch a pirate vessel, the Destiny's commander informed my former first officer of this colony and that if I wished to open the lines of communication, I should come here."

There was a short pause. This was irregular... the Atlanteans were always quite good at protocol. Of course, they were always an interstellar empire too, or were most of the time. "He... did make a report, didn't he?"

As Im spoke, the Atlantia slowed to a stop a short distance from the Citidal, becoming quite the sight to gawk at for the various merchant ships.

The commander blinked. She seemed to be ready to say something, until another signal began coming through. He was much older, looking to be in his 60's by any Terran comparison. Large around the middle, yet not *too* large.

"This is Admiral Koth" the man said. He would be familiar to Im, as one of the few people under the god conspiricy, along with Admiral Vega and Empress Atlantia. "My apologies, Fleetlord. We had been hoping to catch you before you moved in too close. Commander Sid did indeed file a report...we've kept it under wraps, if you will. Commander Inuik, if you would please close off this link and return to your duties. This is private"

The woman nodded, and her image vanished, leaving Koth as the only one on screen. "Well, Fleetlord. Perhaps you would prefer to come aboard, or would you rather I come over there? I much prefer person to person contact"

***

A knock at the door.

"I'm not hungry" Atlantia called. Every light in her room was out. She said it was to save energy, but any amount a light put out was minuscule. The former empress just sat there, in a chair, looking out at the planet beyond the starbase. All that was left.

"It's not the bars, don't worry. Can I come in?"

She sighed, "yeah, might as well"

The door slid open, basking the darkened room in pale light as Sid stepped inside, closing the door behind him and darkening the room once more. "I uh...I have a confession to make"

She closed her eyes, bracing herself. This didn't sound good. "What?"

"Well..." he tried to figure out how to phrase this...

***

Outside the door, a pair of crewmembers were walking by, when suddenly they heard a loud shouting. "HE'S WHAT?!"

***

"I know, I know, I should have told you..." Sid rambled on, "But, see..."

"Moron" she muttered, as she got up quickly and turned on the lights in the room. "I don't *care* if I abdicated, this still warrants my attention!"

"They told me to keep it under wraps!"

"WHO told you?!" she asked, now digging through her clothes.

Sid shrugged meekly, "...the guys I work for..?"

Having turned towards the bathroom, she stopped and looked towards Sid, a confused and offended look on her face. She seemed to be about to say something, but rather then do that, grunted loudly in anger as she spun back around and marched into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. "GRRRAAAAAAAH!"

"I'll be out in a few minutes" she hollered, as the sound of a shower started up.

"Why am *I* the messenger boy?" Sid grumbled, after a moment of silence. He turned to walk out of the room, "Captain's honor my ass"

Im arched an eyebrow. "I... see." He looked around slowly. "Given the situation, I'll come to the station." At that, the transmission cut off. For nearly ten minutes, nothing happened until a scoutship launched and banked towards the Citidal. There were six lifesigns on board, each of a seperate species.

Once the ship had docked, each one exited in turn, looking like a bizarre club of freaks. Even the Terran with them was abnormal, having several cybernetic implants in her skull, leading to a small keyboard on her belt. The only thing tying them all together were the uniforms. Save for Argo, of course.

Im nodded and smiled at whatever pleasantries were given. "I am glad to see you are well... but perhaps a boardroom would be a better place to discuss the future? Forgiveness... but I don't like being this close to Earth. Too unstable."

Admiral Koth was there at the docking port, flanked by two Anubite warriors on each side of him. "I have to agree with you about Sol, Fleetlord", he said, "I'm not to fond of it either. How ironic that is was our only chance of survival..." he turned, "Follow me, the conference lounge is this way"

He seemed slightly...off. As if he wasn't too happy to see Im or his band of friends. But especially Im. They arrived at the lounge's door, it slid open, and Koth motioned for Im's group to enter first.

Im paused at the door to allow Argo in first. Standard procedure... he was the most durable of the group. He could handle any trap that there might be... who knows what desperate people could do? A beat later, Im entered with the rest of the group. All but two took seats. The Vare was just too damn big to sit and the Xon's body wasn't made for chairs.

Im leaned forward and spoke softly. "These are my department heads... each one is a species of the Free Species Union. Each of our species were molded genetically by an Olympian 'God' to serve different purposes. Now we combine our talents to rebuild our civilization... but I have not forgotten the reason I started the Final Revolution when I did. Your people were the reason. Atlantia's influence was great... which is why I christened my flagship in her memory." He patted one of Argo's heads as he spoke. "I was a part of the immense lie that destroyed your civilization. All I want is a chance to set things right and rebuild what I let die, by not acting sooner."

Koth studied each alien, trying to determine, if he could, just *what* type of work each were suited for. And why. Looking back at Im, he pondered his next words.

"I must confess why we hid your coming from our people" he said, starting slightly off-topic, "We are simply too xenophobic, for the lack of a better term, right now. Especially for anything regarding the Demon war. We were afraid of panic, rebellion. I'm sorry Fleetlord, but perhaps now is not the best--"

He stopped. A female voice could be heard outside the door.

"...Now where is he?! I SAID OUT OF MY WAY!"

A few thuds and the sounds of whimpering dogs could be heard, no doubt the two Anubite guards stationed outside. Koth stood up, preparing for the worst. The door slid open, and a very irate Atlantia burst into the room, still in regular plain civilian clothing as opposed to all the officers onboard. However, this time she did not have a tiara.

"So, he was right" she said, putting her hands on her hips, staring at Im. The raged expression had lessened some. "You came back"

There were a few that were obvious... the hulking Vare was obviously a heavy lift worker, the Meso handled security by the various blades and energy weapons on his body and the Terran woman was some sort of engineer by the cybernetic implants. If Im's species followed his lead, they were most likely tacticians and leaders. That left Argo and the insectoid. Argo was a known war machine and the insectoid had been seen at the helm.

Im arched an eyebrow at the doorway as he heard a shout and as Atlantia entered, Im slowly stood... mouth hanging open a tad. Well, shock was a new expression for him. Doesn't suit him well.

After a second, the insectoid started to click something before the Vare flicked him in the head. Im ignored them. He was too busy starting at her. "Atlantia... I... I thought you were dead." He said, softly. After a second, he regains his composure. "This is better than I could have anticipated... having you working with us will make the process much easier."

The face of rage seemed to vanish, replaced by a more somber one. She looked away for a moment, towards the window. She probably *should* have been dead right about now.

"Working with you how?" she asked softly, not understanding. Obviously, she had not been filled in either.

Koth grumbled, quite annoyed by the unfolding events, but said nothing. This was the most *anyone* had seen of Atlantia since the end of the war.

Im stood up straighter and looked around. "What else, Atlantia? Rebuilding the Republic. There is no more Demon threat, beyond a few scattered pockets my fleet is working to weed out now. This war cost you nearly everything... and that is why I am here. To make amends for that by helping you regain what you lost."

Stepping around the table, Im looked out the windows towards the distant flickering star. "You were a symbol of power... of strength... now you sit here, on the brink of extinction at the outskirts of the worst cesspool the galaxy has to offer." He looks at her. "I can see it in your eyes, Atlantia... the same look you had when I told you everything on the Trident. Defeat, anguish, hollowness. Wipe it all away, Atlantia. Your people are too proud to go out quietly like this... on a freezing husk of a world. And do not say I have no idea what it is to live in this manner. I did it for five straight years with the Renegades... at least your people remember what it was like to live on a real planet with real skies and clouds and oceans. All they knew was space. For eighty years..." He spoke of it as if it was a fate worse than death.

He took in a breath. "That is your other option. Stay here in space and lose everything you ever had or refuse to take this indignity any longer and take back what is rightfully yours." His voice mocked the first choice a tad and and grew slightly harsh in the second.

Making her way over to the window, Atlantia had her back to the room, her hand on the ledge below the window. She closed her eyes as Im spoke, the hand that wasn't on the window ledge at her side, clenching into a tight fist, almost unconsciously. She said nothing for a long while, simply shutting herself off from the outside world. She had *never* been strong. She had simply hid behind things. Like ideals, and beliefs. Now all that was left was a hollow, pathetic shell. She *hated* pathetic.

Koth spoke up, cutting though the silence. "Empress...perhaps you shouldn't be here. You don't seem well. I'll have com--"

"Why did you lie to me?" she asked, cutting the admiral off. It was asked in an almost monotone, very quiet.

Koth blinked, not sure how to reply. "Uh...er...I don't believe that I--"

"You didn't tell me he was coming"

The admiral cleared his throat, putting his hands together on the table, as he looked over at Atlantia. "It was a security matter, we were keeping it under wraps. And since you are no longer formally part of the acting government--" again, cut off.

"Regardless" she shot a particularly nasty glance at the admiral, before returning her gaze to the window. Another (much shorter) moment of silence. She then glanced at Im out of the corner of her eye. She was still speaking in a soft almost monotone style, as if to distance herself from the problems. "The demons glassed every inhabitable class of world in Atlantean space, just like they did to the Zoir. Not one planet of M, O, P, or H class survived, even if it was uninhabited. We can't take back what was once ours, every would would require a massive terraforming project or subterranean housing like on Selene. And we do not have the resources to do that at this time"

The lights in the room flickered for a few seconds, as if to prove her point.

"We've sent scouting missions with some of our new Destiny class ships into candidate systems, looking for habitable worlds. We've found a few *possible* locations, but nothing too pleasant" said Koth, now finally getting into the conversation as more then just an attempt to boot people out the door.

"No matter... merely details that need sorting." Im motioned to the battleship that was sliding into view. She'd recognize that it was an Olympian design immediately, though of a class not seen before. "This, my dear Empress... is the Free Species Union Battleship Atlantia. Named for the woman who convinced me that the lies had to end. That we could no longer let those so called Gods control the fates of so many worlds."

Im looks at her, ignoring the Admiral for the moment. "If you want me to tell you what needs to be done, I will. Take back your throne. Take back your Republic. Even if it isn't in the same exact space. You saw the destruction of the First Demon War... and saw how the Republic had rebuilt itself. Will you deny it the chance to do so again? Will you let it die a whimpering death in a backwater or will you take it back to glory and forge a new nation from ashes? You can do this... you are the Empress, whether you hold the title or not... if you declare that it is hopeless, the people will follow and you will end in anarchy. If you declare that there is a way to rebuild and that you will do so, you will have returned them hope." He did not like pushing her like this, but it had to be done. She was the Empress. She had to lead. Not an Admiral, not Im, not anyone but her. She was the figurehead that nations tended to sway upon.

Im turned towards the Admiral after a moment. "I imagine your stores need replenishing... I can have a Union cargo ship here in two days with hydroponic gear and fresh food, water and anything else you may need. Provide a list to the Atlantia and it shall be filled without question." One cargo ship was unlikely to handle such an order, unless it was one hell of a big cargo ship...

The admiral remained silent while Im spoke to Atlantia, but his reservation on the manner showed. Atlantia was not in any condition to retake control of Atlantis, she was too mentally unstable. And besides, she had abdicated. You don't just decide one day you're going to take a break, and expect the position to be there the next day.

He didn't like Im. The moment the alien had made his appearance known, shit had begun to go down. The finding of the Demon battleship, the war, the destabilization of Atlantia's sanity...Im was like a bad omen that wouldn't go away. And he knew Im was directly responsible for Atlantia's condition, after all, he had been let into the group that knew about the truth of the so-called gods. No, he didn't like Im one bit. That and his friends were a circus freakshow, but that was beside the point.

He snapped back to attention as Im began speaking to him. He stifled a chuckle. Atlantean cargoships were only about the size of a light cruiser, if not smaller. "Shiplord, while appreciated, I do not believe a single cargoship can sustain six million people..."

Atlantia simply continued to look out the window at the vessel that used her as its namesake. Quite an honor. But could she really lead a country on the brink of collapse when she herself could barely find reason to get out of bed each morning? She had never wanted to be Empress. Having been an only child, she had had no choice as a child...but after being unfrozen by the Olympia's crew, she was able to live normally. She hated the responsibility and the public service and the moochers and the whole charade. But...seeing Atlantis tossed into an unending civil war had made her think otherwise. So she ascended to the throne, the first emperor or empress in over thirteen thousand years. It was a needed responsibility, and she always wondered just WHAT she had been thinking when she elected to assume the position.

So...what now?

Im let a small smirk cross his features, making him appear quite reminiscent of a hawk. "Just list what you need. You will get it." Behind the admiral, a deep chuckling came from the hulking Vare, who shook it's head slowly in amusement. The insectoid clicked something and made it chuckle more, along with a couple others.

Turning back to Atlantia, Im stepped close to her, "You have to rid yourself of these personal demons that haunt your dreams... I watched most of my crew die even as almost three quarters of our total population died. Do you know how much we numbered after the final battle? Four fleets, three starbases and a small colony world that was unable to support much beyond it's own borders. Barely three million people. You may think I'm a heartless bastard who dictates what needs to be done because I like toying with people... but believe me, I have had nearly every thought you have had. I forced those doubts and self pitying thoughts out and did what was needed. In less than eighteen months, we have two more colony worlds and have finished several ships that were started during the war. We are growing, ever so slowly."

Im turned and walked back to his staff. "What have you done?" He looks at Koth as well. Now his voice started showing annoyance and a very mild disgust. "Hide. Quake in fear at passing ships... I am offering you people the best chance you will ever get at rebuilding. I have resources to spare at the moment... I have stopped my own people's growth to offer you this help. Reject me at your own risk, for I will leave you here and let your civilization die... I can use those resources to found another colony world." He looked between the two. "For some reason, I find I actually care what happens to you stubborn people. The choice is quite black and white, you know. Accept and have a guaranteed chance of survival or refuse and take a very good chance of your civilization tearing itself to pieces as resources finally run out."

Im was never one to hold back and now was no different than any other time. "In either event, I will still provide you with the goods I have promised... Should you refuse, though, it will be one time only. Even that will be merely a stop-gap measure, without a solid supply line from somewhere."

Koth suppressed a nasty glare. Was...Im making fun of him? Taunting him? The aliens were laughing, and Im was...did he just think he was better then everyone else? And he could tell that he was still trying to use Atlantia like a puppet...

Atlantia continued to contemplate the situation. His people had suffered just as much...and they were giving what little they had? That just added more to the feeling of guilt. But she knew Im was right. Regardless of her own health, her own soul, her people deserved better.

"Admiral" she said quietly, "have your men put together a list. Have it delivered to Im's people within the next twenty four standard hours"

"Empress, perhaps that may not be the best thing right now. You're tired..."

She finally turned away from the window, crossing her arms over her front. "My health aside, I still have a job to do"

"You abdicated" Koth pointed out, a slight amount of venom in his voice.

"And yet you still call me empress. Do as I say" her voice had risen some. Koth seemed ready to speak again, but decided against it. Doing anything to the 'empress' right now would certainly invoke a response from Im or one of his gang. He and the rest of the council would decide what to do about Im and Atlantia soon enough. In a *private* meeting.

"Very well...'Empress'" he responded, getting up. "I shall go take care of that now. I leave the rest of this in your capable hands" the admiral walked out, the door closing behind him.

Im set a small holographic emitter on the table. "Io." An instant later, the AI's form appeared. Instead of being dressed in the flowing robes of an ancient Greek, the figure was now clad in an uniform, though it lacked any form of insignia.

"Yes, commander?"

Im smiled at the title the AI had bestowed upon him years ago. She had never altered it no matter how high he rose... the AI claimed that was because it was a title that fit him. "I want you to coordinate starcharts with the Citidal. See if you can locate a suitable spot for a new Atlantean colony."

"At once, commander."

Im looked to Atlantia, then to the others. "Return to the ship... Argo and I will send for a shuttle when we are ready to leave." The AI vanished in a flash of light and the others all filed out until there was just Im, Argo and Atlantia.

Once alone, Im leaned back. "I'm sorry to have to put the weight of a civilization on your shoulders again. Someone has to do it though. If it becomes too much stress for you, I would suggest a division of powers... you become more of a rallying figure for the people and allow your staff to handle the actual running of the Republic." Slowly, he looked to Argo and smiled, thinking of another option...

"Maybe" she said absentmindedly, looking at the floor. After a moment, she looked at Im, unable to hold back the feeling of guilt any longer. "It's not fair. You shouldn't be giving up supplies that your own people need"

Im arched an eyebrow. "Was it fair that I could have prepared you five years earlier but held back? If I had, you might not be on this station right now. I helped cause the destruction of your people... none of my people are upset at the Council's decision. If the Olympians had their way, I'd have been dead for almost a year. All but two of the species you saw would have been. We're just thankful to be alive..."

Getting up, he walked slowly over to Atlantia. "You need the supplies far more than we do. Giving you them means we won't grow quite as fast, but we will still grow. Our advantage is that our fleets are intact... Which is why I am willing to stay here in galaxy with the First Fleet, to provide initial protection for whatever colony you start."

"Would it have mattered if it had been five years earlier?" she asked, her voice normalizing for the first time since entering the room. "We knew about the threat. We knew they'd come for us sooner or later. We just didn't expect them to take out whole superpowers in silence. But...thank you. It means a hell of a lot"

She glanced back out the window for a second, before turning back to Im with a bemused expression. "What did you do to piss off Koth, anyway? He hides it pretty well, but I know him well enough to know that he's not too happy with you. Or me, for that matter, but I think I know why on that one"

***

"Commander Inuik" Koth had opened a channel to the commander of the station on his personal wrist communicator as he marched down the darkened hall. "Have your people construct a list of needed supplies. Have it on my desk by eleven hundred hours standard time"

"Yes sir, will do" came the reply. Koth clicked it off. As much as he didn't like Im or the idea of Atlantia in control, he knew that the colony needed supplies badly. And it would give him needed time to construct a plan. After a moment, he opened another link. He had set this to a coded signal, so that only those important enough to receive it would.

"This is Admiral Koth. We have a problem. We need to have a meeting to discuss our options *immediately*"

Im shrugged. "Five years to receive Olympian upgrades could have staved off defeat for you. The Zoir were a lost cause in any event. No one knew what happened to them until you discovered it."

He looks at the door. "The Admiral likes to be in charge. I took that from him in this meeting." A pause as he looks to Argo, who was staring intently at him. "Yes, Argo... I concur." He looks back to Atlantia. "We would not recommend having him on your staff if he is that angry with you, if at all possible."

Finally looking out at his flagship, he put a hand on her shoulder. "Just remember something, Atlantia... You aren't out here alone any longer."

A slight smile came over Atlantia's face as she watched the warship slowly glide through space. Not a large one, not even a small one. A hint of one. But it was still there.

"Thank you" she said.

***

The list of needed supplies was compiled quickly, and Koth had received it well before his deadline. He glanced over it quickly, making sure the basics had been hit, but not really bothering to go into too much detail. Glancing at the clock, he noticed that his meeting was going to start soon. He had to get going. Figuring the list was fine, he sent it to the Atlantia via computer, and prepared to leave his room for the meeting...

Im returned to his ship soon after, being in his quarters reading an ancient text when the comm chimed. the elegant voice of his first officer from the Trident, now a Shiplord, rolled out. "Fleetlord, we have received the list of needed supplies... it's quite a grocery list."

Im chuckled. "I'm sure, Aristomache. Send it through and let the fleet handle it."

==============

One and a half days after the list had been placed, a rip it space appeared and an immense ship, equal in size to the battleship, emerged. It's IFF transponder would ID it as the Free Species Union Colony Ship 0038 (http://img29.picoodle.com/img/img29/4/1/27/f_57ea8388f63m_1bf0e73.jpg). Apparently they plan on building a lot of them.

Moments later, four more ships emerge. One was the Ajax (http://img26.picoodle.com/img/img26/4/1/27/f_RenegadeDrem_776aea7.jpg), a dreadnought which looked like a smaller sibling of the Archangel. One of the others was a heavy cruiser (http://img33.picoodle.com/img/img33/4/1/27/f_RenegadeHeam_8a91e4a.png) that's hull showed scars from battle. Most like a veteran ship. The last were two light cruisers (http://img01.picoodle.com/img/img01/4/1/27/f_RenegadeLigm_cddb697.jpg) which looked very fast and very maneuverable.

The immense ship slowly slid in close to the Citidal, while the Atlantia moved aside to give room, and hailed it with a voice only message. "Clear your loading bays... they'll be damn full in about two hours." Which seemed to be apt, as smaller ships proceeded to launch from the immense 'cargo' ship.

Koth entered the darkened conference lounge. The table was already filled with people, at least eight of them. The soft glow of the various control panels being the only sources of light in the room.

"Sorry I'm late" he said, sitting down at the end of the table, "I had other business I had to attend to"

One of the others, a male older then Koth and quite frail, cleared his throat, and replied, "It is best to be punctual to meetings you call. Now, *why* did you call this meeting?"

Koth leaned forward, folding his hands together. "We have a problem. The alien known as Im is back"

"We know" replied another, a female seemingly in her 30's. She sighed, " We *were* at the meeting when Commander Sid delivered his report"

"He has convinced Atlantia to reclaim her position as Empress" Koth said, cutting straight to the point. The room fell silent.

"And what is your opinion on this? asked the older man.

A large man at the other end of the room spoke up, "She abdicated. One does not simply retake a position such as the one she willingly gave up. Same as you do not quit your job only to return the next day to ask to get it back"

"And regardless" Koth said, "she isn't mentally fit to return to duty"

"Well, isn't this the first sign of recovery?" asked another voice. A younger male leaned forward. Commander Sid. "She's back on her feet, doing stuff. Or do we like seeing her stuck in her room?"

"Im broke her willingly, and is now using her to complete his agenda...whatever that may be" Koth replied, "No, I don't like seeing Atlantia broken any more then the rest of you. But I will not let foreign and unstable forces take control of what is left of our people. Im holds an unhealthy amount of influence over Atlantia"

"Indeed. We saw her dependency during the war" a younger woman spoke up, "It's not healthy at all. And I don't trust Im, never did. He's too conviniant. Suddenly he shows up, and what happens? The demons attack. Far too friendly, far too pushy, and far too coincidental"

"Then we must decide what to do about it. We *cannot* let Atlantia take power" said Koth.

"But what?" asked the larger male in back, "Regicide is too risky"

The rest of the room turned to face the large man, their jaws agape in abject horror. No one said anything.

"What? You know you were all thinking about it" he replied, leaning back in contempt.

"We're not killing the Empress. Not if we can help it" Koth said. "But the fact remains"

Sid shifted uncomfortably, uneasy about how this conversation was progressing. He said nothing, but simply kept going over everything. He mentally kept track of the room, and where allegencies lay. Koth, the younger woman, the older man, and the fat man had all sided against Atlantia, in varying degrees. The other four remained quiet, like Sid. Either they didn't care, or this would be split down the middle.

"Is there a way to bar her from rule?" asked the younger woman. She waved at the fat man, "can't we just say she can't recant on her resignation?"

"And if she decides to bypass that? She *is* quite popular with the people" said an older woman.

"And the aliens" said Koth, "who knows what would happen if we actively tried to bar her from ruling"

"A dangerous situation indeed" the older man replied. Silence reigned for a few moments, until the older lady spoke up.

"I think we should wait before doing anything hasty, if anything actually needs to be done at all. We have too little information at this time"

"I agree" Sid spoke up, "conspiracies are a dark thing. I don't like them"

"None of us do, Commander" Koth replied, "But sometimes the ends justify the means"

"How Machiavellian of you" a man, seemingly in his 30's, replied with a small mocking smirk.

"We should wait" said the older man, a few others nodded. "We do need more time to plan then just this one meeting"

"Agreed" said the fat man. Koth and the younger woman grumbled.

"Very well" Koth said, "We shall watch, and observe. All of us. But if she actively attempts to regain power, we will have another emergency meeting, and we will be forced to decide on our actions"

***

"Sir, we've got incoming signatures. One's coming through now.."

"Onscreen" said commander Inuik, walking towards the viewscreen. The crew in the ops station of the Citadel eyes widened as they saw the massive ship come through. Another battleship? How many were going to come through?

"Sir, its registered as a...colony ship" the ensign at tactical said, "Why is there a colony ship here?"

Before Inuik could respond, another couple ships came through. A dreadnought, a heavy cruiser, and two light cruisers. It seemed as if an entire fleet was going to descend upon them. What was going on?

"Sir, we're getting an incoming message from the Atlantia. Audio only"

"Put it on"

"Clear your loading bays... they'll be damn full in about two hours."

"Sir, smaller ships are undocking from the colony ship. I...I think they're cargoships!" the ensign said, his face lighting up. The atmosphere in the room suddenly seemed less tense, and a bit more cheerful. The commander nodded.

"Have all ships that can clear out as soon as possible. I want as many ports open as possible. And clear out the bays" Inuik said, leaning against a rail. A smile was on her face, just like everyone else in the room.

***

As the supplies began reaching the loading bays, a general feeling of euphoria seemed to sweep over everyone. It was almost like a party, although everyone was still working. No doubt the feeling would be shared planetside as the new supplies began reaching them in a few hours as well.

[OOC: Hope it's okay if I hop in. SG for Atlantean I assume? Just wondering, is there any actual back-story here with the wars and stuff (seems like there is) or is it being created as you go. I hope my intro is suitable.]

--------

Far Space

"CAPTAIN!" Even the strongest shout the ensign could muster was all but drowned out by the chaos of battle. The urgency in his voice could not muster enough might to carry it across the bridge to the large solar window where the pensive Captain stood stoically, looking on defeat.

You know what they say about your life flashing before your eyes upon your demise. Well, it's not so much of a flash as a bludgeon repeatedly beating you over the head until you realize every last mistake you made. So the Captain stood looking out into the vastness of space, looking into his future and remembering his past. The enemy's ships were daunting compared to his own, but even they were put to shame compared to the void of endless space. Ants crawling on a blade of grass, just as it is about to snap.

Twenty-five years ago... Captain Archibald had just enlisted in the Marines, a staunch patriot and noble soul who sought service in the most honorable of professions. Only weeks later, a great and powerful evil struck upon the outer rims of the Temple Worlds. They appeared out of nowhere, from the vast expanse of space, and assaulted the colonial worlds without mercy, launching wave after wave of ships against the Temple Fleets. Within months the enemy had drawn the name "Miknos" or Demons for their unrelenting and brutal attacks upon the military and civilian populations. They were ruthless, slaughtering all in their path and paving a road of destruction through the known galaxy. Slowly, the once proud and mighty Temple Empire was crumbling beneath the nigh invincible force of the Demons. However, their bloody massacre of innocent souls gave birth to a hero: a young enlistee who rose through the ranks from Private to Lieutenant to Admiral... to finally the "Last Captain."

The war raged on for a quarter century, but a spec in time for the galaxy, but a whole generation of man who had known naught but death. Slowly, as the empire crumbled one planet, one system at a time, so dwindled the hopes of humanity. Outbound fleet after fleet had been vanquished by the Demons, until there was none left to send to the aid of the nearby systems. With no more assistance in the final war, the systems fell like dominoes to the great devils, and millions died with every passing day. Even the great strategist, High Admiral Archibald could not turn the tides of war. Finally, all that was left was the home-world fleet dedicated to defending Temple Prime, the Capital of the Temple civilization.

And so, with the last light of hope dwindling, the Templars decided to attempt one last hailmary before their inevitable destruction. A single carrier ship was sent out on Operation: Darkness Falls led by the Last Captain. For years they had sent out impressive battalions of ships only to be met in battle and defeated, but now they sent out only one ship in an attempt to sneak by the enemy. With the foreign fleets closing on the Temple home-world, the scientists thought they might have found a secret to defeating the enemy... a secret cargo stored on the ship should they reach their rendezvous point. A lightly armored carrier - built two years earlier for a new strategy of focusing on small independent fighters rather than a battleships' weapons - and a crew of pilots against the combined powers of the Demon fleets.

Only three weeks into their journey, they were ambushed by five black-hulled battleships and unable to escape as their 'drive engines' were knocked out. The battle raged, but fate was not long in drawing out the inevitable doom...

"CAPTAIN!" How many times later the ensign cried out to his captain, it finally resonated. Captain Archibald turned his head from the window to the officer who was calling to him. "Captain... shields are in critical status! Five-percent and dropping! Long-range sensors have been knocked out and scanners have been disabled! Right engine has taken irreparable damage and the docking bay is flooding atmosphere!"

As hell descended upon them, Captain Archibald remained calm and collected, determined to die with his dignity and honor. Long, purposeful strides carried him to the EX-O's station. "Issue a Level Five Code Red. Kill weapons and engines, divert all energy to the shields. Evacuate all personnel. Inform the flight wing to discontinue return orders." The executive officer dutifully punched in the command codes, issuing the Captain's orders and causing red siren lights to flash throughout the ship. Captain Archibald took the comm-link from station and slowly brought it to his mouth. "This is your Captain..." Even in the midst of battle, the Captain's voice seemed to cause a lull in the commotion. "It has been a honor to serve with all of you. All soldiers and personnel... abandon ship."

A moment's hesitation pervaded the bridge as the Captain dropped the mic to the floor before they quickly began running towards the escape pods.

Even in the blaring of sirens as the ship emptied, there was an eerie and ominous silence about the bridge. The Captain turned towards the large windows that encircled the bridge and watched as the enemy ships continued to pound the shields. At the bottom of his vision he could see the first of escape pods, numbering forty-five personnel each, blasting off from the doomed ship. He couldn't help but think what little chance of survival there was for them, alone in the vastness of space and surrounded by the enemy, but then there was always hope... until there wasn't.

Archibald pressed a circular blue button on the desk before him without looking down. "Captain Archibald of the TWS Hope's Whisper, Command Code Alpha-Zero-Zero-One. This will be our final transmission... I am remiss to communicate that we have failed in our endeavor. Operation Last Hope has failed. I repeat, Last Hope is dead..."

-----

"Shield's weakening! Firing off a puncture-missile..." Esper-4 said in barely a whisper through his comm-link. It felt odd to be attacking the enemy without being fired upon; free to do the best they could at neutralizing one of the five enemy ships, but helpless to actually defend Hope's Whisper from the pounding it was taking.

"We've got a window! Lock targets on E4, prepare to fire-" Esper-2 replied as the missile penetrated the enemy's shield and ripped a small hole in it, enough for a strike team of fighters to attack through. The ten-fighter strike force followed orders, locking on to where Esper-4 had made a hole and powering up everything they had.

"Belay that order!" It was the commanding voice from Esper-1, the lead fighter. "The Captain has ordered us to evacuate. Initiate jump sequence, set a course for TW1, and prepare for wormhole activation." A few shots were nonetheless fired off, but the fifty souls aboard the Esper Strike Force, as hard as it was to abandon their Captain and ship, prepared to jump.

Ten sequential confirmations of initiation success echoed through the comm-links as the orange-appearing wormhole was established in front of them. The ships' computers took over, powering down weapons and shields as it thrust the engines and accelerated the ships forward...

And then an eruption of unparalleled magnitude sent forth a wave of energy unlike any force they had seen before. The cargo-hold of Hope's Whisper exploded in a ball of blue fury. The blast-wave caught up with the Espers (http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b360/DMG2005/Fighter.jpg) just as they arrived at the event horizon of the wormhole, jettisoning them forward and causing a most unpleasant turbulence. What happened in the tiny speck of space known as "X2314-Y3911-Z0075-DOH-1" went straight from Archibald's lips to God's ears... An unknown fate and yet one that sealed the Templars' destiny.

-----

Solar System

After what seemed like an eon, with minds racing and imaginations flowing, the Strike Force "Esper" finally left the wormhole. Finally, though, the realization of their situation was dawning upon them as each five-man crew began hearing the "System Alert!" chimes of the onboard computers.

Commander Armina, the highest-ranking officer of the Strike Force and lead voice of Esper-1, filled the empty comm-link after a few minutes of silence. "It seems the blast sent us off course... far off course. Gideon says some mumbo-jumbo about the energy altering the computer's coordinate tracking system and exponentially increasing the extent of the wormhole," the feminine but firm voice said as the tech-nerd Gideon could be heard in the background slapping his forehead in disgust of her total disregard for the proper terms and understanding. "The nav-charts, assuming they are still reliable, put us in uncharted space - farther than any Templar has gone before... or ever wished to go."

After a moment of silence, Gideon's voice could once again be heard in the background, "If you're done with your heart-rending speech about how we've reached our ending... May I? It was a rhetorical question as the head-techie took the link and began speaking to the other Espers, notably the tech-members aboard each crew. "The concussive force of the blast has pretty much fucked us. Our long range sensors are kaput, our scanners are dead, the shields have been knocked to max 10%, weapons are online but useless without an enemy to fight, directed long range communication is impossible this far out, engines are compromised, we're bleeding energy and the ZPM-converter is in need of serious overhaul, and... did I leave anything out?" As if asking for more trouble, the Esper-1 onboard computer could be heard chiming in across the comm-link: "Eight hours of sustained oxygen left...". "Oh, and apparently the oxygen converters have been damaged to the point that we are now living on what's left until we are asphyxiated by the carbon dioxide.... Splendid."

The Espers were wonderful ships. Capable of serving as living and combat quarters for five people in such a contained space, packed with the most advanced technology in the Templar world including a jump-drive, an AI that was connected to each individual's suit, the entire Templar databases, and a mission length only held back on how long the crew was willing to live on nutritional bars. They were fierce machines of genius-design... except that most major repairs could only be done from the outside and thus they were out of luck.

Gideon continued. "We seem to have entered an unknown system, but without any scanners we're flying blind. No chance at communicating home, the best we can do is send out a unencrypted burst communication, which I'm going to save for when we want to alert an enemy to end our pitiful existence floating here. Opening a new wormhole would require to much energy for the damaged processors, not to mention that we probably couldn't extend it to reach home without some serious energy like another nova." The inertia from their flight through the wormhole was still carrying that at a decent clip across the system, but without direction or purpose, it seemed pointless. Currently, they were on a path past a few of the planetary bodies on a collision course with the local star in about forty hours... if they even lived that along. "Exterior repairs are a no go due to extreme velocities... Right then, kill all systems except communications. We're going to save what access to energy we have left and let our momentum carry us for the moment. Do not eat any of the consumables, it will just increase your metabolism and draw more oxygen. Instead try to go sleep to preserve as much of that resource as we have left and maybe we'll live past our brothers at home..."

In the commotion and chaos of their current situation, they had all but forgotten about what their mission had meant. Soon the last of their kind would be extinct.

"Begin repairs on life systems and energy converters... and God help us."



[OOC: Hope this is acceptable, if not I'll change it. Brief summary: The Templars have been ever-losing a war for the past twenty-five years to some mysterious and evil race. As the end was near, they sent out a ship with a secret key to victory, but it was ambushed. Upon its destruction, it let out a massive blast that sent the escaping fighters (Espers) far off course through the wormhole. Now, they have ended up in your system devoid of most vital systems and low on oxygen, so their energy signature is going to be pretty small. Nonetheless, they're attempting repairs - mostly an exercise in futility - as they fly in a path past a couple of the planets and towards the sun (they can maneuver, but it would drain a bunch of vital energy).]

[The backstory is thus: Atlantis fell towards the end of the war, but the Olympians managed to pull a victory out... before their own forces turned on them and killed off the 'Gods'. That was, as the title suggests, 16 months ago. Beyond that, there's nothing set in stone.]

The cargo ships descended upon the Citidal and began to fill upwards of half the docking spaces. Offloading the ships were the giant Vares, under the supervision of the Terran engineers. While the Vares were disturbingly large and muscular the oddest part about them was the ongoing discussions about how to increase engine efficiency of the cargo ships to offload supplies faster. The Terrans seemed to ignore the conversations, instead they quietly kept track of how much was being unloaded. They weren't the run of the mill Earth dwellers, though... they were all about six feet tall and had several cybernetic implants. One might suspect they were Borg, except the complexion was far better and they didn't act like drones at all as they directed the Vares.

===========

Onboard the Atlantia, Im strode out onto the bridge and listened to various reports about the process. "Good... this should provide the Atlantean people a great morale boost. There's enough food there for at least five million people eating three meals a day for six months."

Shiplord Aristomache looked up from the command chair. "And the hydroponic gear will allow them to grow at least enough to support a quarter of their population on their own. A start..."

Something caught his eye on one of the screens. "Why has the Castle broken ranks?"

============

The light cruiser had turned away from the colony ship and was moving towards open space.

"Castle, this is the Fleetlord... why are you out of position?"

"Fleetlord, this is Commander Thon... we picked up moving energy signals in this area. They could have been from a cloaked ship purging." Purging was the worst thing a ship in a cloak could do, by allowing their exhaust to extend past the cloaking field.

"Very well... Report any findings immediately."

The ship continued on, scanning the area intensely and sending out the occasional broad energy pulse, hoping to get a cloak to flare a bit and give a good look at it. A ship like the fighters would probably not be affected too adversely by it, but they'd know someone was out there at least.

The Atlanteans working in the loading bays kept a wary distance of the two types of aliens now working with the incoming supplies. Atlanteans had always been an isolationist bunch, even to the point of having Xenophobic tendencies from time to time. The Demon war had made this even worse. But still, they watched, curious. And with a slight jump in their step, knowing that this was a cause for celebration.

***

"Where is that cruiser going?" asked Commander Inuik, as she pointed to the light cruiser on the viewscreen, now leaving the convoy parked outside. A slightly uneasy expression was on her face, she wasn't completely trustful of these people.

Beware of Greeks bearing Gifts...

One of her officers was already on the job, though as it seemed. "Tracking it now, sir" he said, "But I got nothing. They're heading for empty space. Nothing out in that direction for a good long while"

"Keep an eye on it" Inuik replied.

"Yes sir"

***

Supplies, supplies, supplies. Some of the new stuff from Im's shipment had already started to trickle into the Destiny and the rest of her sister ships. Normally, the ships would wait until everything had been unloaded onto the station before getting anything. But this wasn't normal. Not by a longshot.

Trok, the head engineer of the Destiny, went over some of the containers, not daring to actually open them up in fear of getting slapped on the wrists. It was almost like a kid shaking presents under the Christmas tree. It was just too much anticipation. To think of it, actual FOOD. Not the damned nutrition bars they'd been living off of since the apocalypse. It...it was...

"What the hell are you doing?" asked an amused Sid, walking up to him. He placed the padd he had been holding ontop of one of the stack of containers, and smiled at his engineer.

"Just...browsing" Trok said, sliding his hand over the cargo.

"No calling dibs" Sid replied. Trok's mischievous grin faded. Sid chuckled, "I can read you like a book"

"...what if you wanted something? We could uh, I don't know...arrange something..." Trok said, his hand waving about absentmindedly.

"...are you bribing a superior officer?" Sid asked, the mischievous grin now on *his* face.

Trok shook his head, "No, of course not. I just--hey!" he stopped in mid sentence as Sid opened one of the containers.

Sid looked back up at him, shrugging. "What? I'm the commanding officer. I have to make sure everything on the roster is here in this room"

"...And the apple you just took?" Trok was referring to the small red object Sid had removed from a smaller container. Sid simply stared at Trok with an overly innocent face.

"...What apple? You sure you're feeling ok? Those bars must be getting to you" Sid placed the apple inside his shirt.

Trok's eyes widened as he nodded his head, "Then I had better fix that" he grabbed another one of the apples, before closing the smaller container. Sid closed the larger one it was inside of, and looked at Trok.

"What apple?" he asked.

"I don't know what you are referring to" Trok replied, walking out of the room as he stuffed his prize in his own shirt.

As he did, Atlantia walked past him, glancing at the engineer with a hint of suspicion from the grin on his face, but dismissed it just as quickly as she approached Sid.

"Everything should be aboard now" she said, handing him another padd.

"Awesome" he replied, glancing over the data before looking back up at Atlantia. "You sure you don't want to come with us? It'll be fun"

"I shouldn't" she replied, sighing, "I just got back into the swing of things here. And with all thats happening right now, well...I'd like to keep ontop of it all. Especially with some of the staff keeping secrets from me"

Sids face darkened. "Be careful, Atlantia. Some of the staff aren't your biggest supporters" he lowered his voice, "Especially the admiral"

She nodded slowly, her voice lowering as well. "I know. I've had a sneaking suspicion. Anything I really need to know about?"

He shook his head, "Not anything immediate. But keep on the lookout. Without me and the other Destiny class ship captains here, you're short on allies"

"Just come back soon"

"I'll try"

Atlantia walked out of the room, her face apparently very contemplative. And worried. Very worried.

A few hours later, the AIV Destiny, accompanied by the other eleven Destiny class ships constructed during the late period of the war and just after, would leave the Sol system on a quest to find a new system to call home. Several places had been highlighted as possible targets, so they would have to go to each one and survey. They didn't risk splitting up, they weren't willing to lose a ship to Demon (or other, such as Pirate) forces because they had been outnumbered.

Scarcely had an hour passed when danger reared its ugly head. Most of the fifty survivors had taken Gideon's advice and dozed off, but at least one person on each ship was dutifully working away on their mechanical problems.

Gideon, as the lead techie and brightest of the bunch, was mixing his time between working on the systems and thinking about how to survive more than half a standard day. He was pleased to see after a few minutes that the onboard computer had reanalyzed the oxygen consumption for the sleeping members to about twelve hours, all things being equal.

But they never were.

"SHIT!" Gideon cried out as he fell back in a startle. The interior of each ship was filled with a loud resonating noise, bringing all members to attention. "We've been pinged!" he announced through the comm-link, as the computer created the pinging noise to alert the crew of burst energy signal.

Immediately everyone took up battle-stations. They were in a very dangerous predicament; without eyes of their own it was hard to know what was pinging them, and not willing to risk communication should it be an enemy, they would continue to float blind. Commander Armina whispered through the link as if the enemy could actually hear her inside the ship. "Bring all systems to powerless standby. Be prepared for my orders." Each Esper did as it was ordered, bringing engines, shields, and weapons to standby, allowing them to be brought online much quicker, but still utilizing very little power. The change in energy signature was about 10% more of the tiny amount they were already using. And while nobody dared voice it, they were all concerned about how long they could last against an enemy in their damaged states.

Minds racing, nerves on edge, senses waiting for a signal, they sat in deadly silence...

The ping resonated on the sensors. The science officer turned quickly. "Ma'am... I've got something. Looks like a few scouts... maybe not even that big. They're not putting out enough power to register on their own, but I'm getting heat and life signs. Something is in there."

Thon stood and nodded at the helm. "Take us in..." The Castle was a ship of less varied capabilities than the hulking battleship and dreadnought nearby, so they had a crew of less varied species as well. Only three of the six were currently on board. Terrans, Xon and Mesos. Hopefully their skills would be enough. The crew watched their screens intently as they drew closer. "There... there they are." She pointed and the screen magnified. "Move us in close and take hold of them with tractor beams. Bring them to a dead stop... gently. Inform the Atlantia of our actions."

---------

The light cruiser came over the group and sent out tractor beams to all the ships it could and slowly brought them to a stop, grouped them together, then released them from the beams. After a moment, the ship slowly glided around to sit with it's bird-like bow facing them. A single hail went out. "This is Commander Thon of the Free Species Union Cruiser [i]Castle. Even with damage, you undoubtedly know that you have been found... identify yourselves, that you may be escorted to your nation of origin." Unlikely, given the circumstances.

===========

Im hmmed as the report came in. "Instruct the Castle that they are to bring the ships in for repairs. The Atlantia can handle that easily enough. Try not to provoke them... no need to start a fight with whatever mothership might be out there."

He then looked at the Atlantean station. "Open a channel..." He waited for a nod. "Hope Station, we are taking on a few more passengers... some lost scout craft that are adrift nearby. We will repair and release them, after finding out why they are here. Most likely nothing to do with any of us, considering this system is like a black hole for starship travel."

Ahhh, so thats what that was all about.

Commander Inuik nodded. "Understood, Atlantia. Let us know if there's anything you need". An empy gesture, of course, considering who was resupplying whom. But, still.

Outside, the full force of Destiny class light tactical cruisers moved out from the citadel, like a flock of massive birds that could somehow exist in space. Swooping around from underneath the supply fleet, they moved out into open space, opening a jump point, and all of them moved into it, the temporary wormhole-like structure vanishing behind them. Behind, they left a few dozen older (and mostly jurry rigged) light cruisers, about five corvette type ships, and two capital vessels. And of course the couple hundred non-combat ships.

system. He hit the ship's internal COMM, "Bradley to Duke: We've reached the first system..."

"if you say so Bradley "said Duke (http://i184.photobucket.com/albums/x21/downlink_II/too-human-20070516040220781.jpg) who was in the middle of fixing the left leg of Hunter (http://i157.photobucket.com/albums/t69/zxc_047/Imperial%20MT%20rifle/Hunter.jpg) his combat droid

"just wear and tear of some parts easy fix"said Hunter as Duke works
"oh shut up you not the one doing all the work said Duke

[OOC: People, if you want in, that's fine. But please, put a tad more effort into it? I'd post something, but I'd rather wait for DMG.]

OOC: sorry for small post, was tired. Waiting for a response to the Falcon's presence...

As the "unknown pinger" was now visible with the naked eye through the windows of the Espers, the Templars knew they had been found. They immediately became tense when the tractor beams took hold of them, fearing the worst, but there wasn't much they could in present state. Normally they would have immediately defended themselves, but such was not the case now.

"This is Commander Thon of the Free Species Union Cruiser Castle. Even with damage, you undoubtedly know that you have been found... identify yourselves, that you may be escorted to your nation of origin."

Onboard Esper-1, Commander Armina looked towards Gideon as the hail was played through the ship's speakers. "Guess we'd have to trust someone eventually... not much we can do floating through space forever. Besides, the Free Species doesn't sound so bad..." Gideon simply shrugged. In this situation, there was no good or bad decision until history had had its say.

Pressing a button on the command console to respond, Armina simply stood silent for a moment as if contemplating the decision one last time. After a moment, she drew a deep breath and began, "This is Commander Armina of the Esper Strike Force... A pause as she struggled to finish her sentence. "Last known survivors of the Temple Worlds." The name itself was most likely meaningless to Commander Thon, but its implication as to his comment was more than obvious: Even if the could make it back, there was most likely no nation to return to. Any more information was to be withheld at the moment, at least until she knew who and what they were dealing with.

Thon arched an eyebrow. Great... more refugees. She stepped forward. "Open a visual channel."

Once that was established, she could only guess the confusion her bridge crew would cause. Three insectoids, half a dozen felines and several Terrans with cybernetic implants sticking out of them, herself included. "Commander... I would welcome you to the Sol system, but it's not a place anyone really feels welcome in." She smirks at the small joke. "The most populous star system in the galaxy, as far as anyone can tell."

She nods at the clicks of one of the insectoids. "Thank you, Sub-commander..." She looks back. "We have orders from the battleship Atlantia to place you under tow to her for repairs and medical assistance."

=========

Onboard the Atlantean station, the Vares and Terrans continued their work at a steady pace, slowly filling the bays. "No, no, no... if you do that, the power supply will overheat and take out half a dozen other components." "Not if you route extra power from the emergency batteries." "And what do you do in an emergency?" Such was the conversation between two of the giants. The one claiming to have found a way to boost engine power pointed at the battleship that was clearly visible floating in space. The doubtful one snorted. "It's still a bad idea. The system is designed with redlines for a reason." "Redlines which are for non-Terrans. They can interface and push the ship to it's true safety limit."

Menawhile, one of the Terrans approached the highest ranked Atlantean officer he could find. "Sir... I've calculated the current rate of supply influx. At this rate, we can fill your bays in five hours and still have another eight hours worth of supplies onboard the colony ship. Is there a way that you can boost your shipping to the surface, or that we can ship to the surface without pausing at the station? It's that or we start stacking in corridors."

=========

Onboard the Atlantia, Im watched the colony ship unload, happy for once in a blue moon. It felt good to help those that had undergone so much misfortune. The species of the Union had gone to their fate knowing the truth... these people had no idea. That was a cruelty that could not go without amends.

A science officer looked up. "Fleetlord, I'm detecting another ship in the area... unknown class. Most likely a cargo ship."

Im nodded. "Keep an eye on them. They're no threat to us, most likely." Not with a battleship, a dreadnought and two light cruisers with combat hardened crews. "If they approach, inform me. Otherwise, just track them until they are out of range."

"Ho Shit!" Gideon almost fell out of his chair as the visual link was established with the Free Union vessel. The image transmitted to the other end was mainly that of Commander Armina with just a bit of the Esper's interior displayed in the empty space her head did not occupy. In the very bottom left corner, the head techie was imperceptibly whispering to the others, "What the fuck... are those?"

For her own part, Armina had to hold back her shock at the image before her. It took a moment, but she choked down the surprise and maintained the veneer of calm appreciation. "Why thank you very much... I think," she replied, understanding there was a deeper background to the comment that she probably didn't want to know at the moment. "Just as long as we get there within..." she looked to the side at the oxygen countdown timer, "Seven hours, eighteen minutes, and seventeen seconds. But other than our dwindling atmosphere, we're medically okay. We just need some tools, raw parts, and space to work on these Espers."

The repairs were pretty serious; the type that would usually be dealt with by a team of engineers at a specially designed and suited dock. However, with a dearth of specialized docks and Templar engineers, the crews would have to do it themselves. And considering that at least half of the crew would be just as useful as a small child at fixing the ships, only about twenty of them would be doing any work. But that was the way it would have to be. Armina didn't know whether the Free Unionists would offer help, but if so she would kindly decline it. In their precarious and unknown situation, they would have to be careful with their trust. Even more so though, as technologically advanced and as skilled as they were, it was doubtful they would understand the Templar's unique technology and designs. They had spent all of their efforts and energy working on these special fighters and without understanding the basics of Templar Tech, it would be hard to get very far.

After returning her thought to the present state and communications, she turned her head slightly to her left and gave a slight nod. Gideon, in response, tapped away at the console, powering down the standby systems. Turning back to the screen before her, "We're very sorry about this intrusion into your space, but we have a few things to mull over and work out. Thank you for your hospitality..." With that, she signed off the communications and prepared to discuss the situation further with the crew.

-----

"Did you see those?" Gideon exclaimed after the link had been severed. "They were little furry... cat-people and gross insectoids." He faked a shiver of disgust at the beings to further drive his point home.

"Yeah, well those... whatever you want to call them are the only things between us and asphyxiating in our little floating tin cans," Armina responded diplomatically, though she too harbored some concerns and natural instincts towards them. The Templar nature was naturally arrogant and xenophobic. Some would go as far as to say hubristic and conceited. However, it was not without reason. The Templar Empire had been mighty before its untimely and inexplicable collapse at the hands of the dark Miknos. Technology was the pride of the people, advancing to levels of untold powers. The xenophobia came in part from the arrogance that any other race could equal theirs, but also because they truly didn't encounter many other races. Humans were by far the dominant species in their piece of the galaxy and those that weren't human were generally mostly near-humans. At least, until the Demons arrived. There was also the matter of their post-maturity development stages that resulted in elevated states of connection and ability.

"What do you think are the outlooks?" she asked Gideon, speaking of the repairs on the ship.

"Well, we have incurred about 80% damage. Some of it is of course superficial, but it's hard to know time-wise without inspecting the full-extent. With only some replacement parts onboard, limited technical expertise, and extensive damage... it could take a while. Plus we'll need some basic parts and materials from our new 'friends' to complete the minor repairs. A lot of the main systems we'll be able to get functional albeit not perfect pretty quickly - just some wiring repairs and stick in a few replacement parts from the emergency bins. According to my best-case estimates, we'll be able to repair half of the ships to tip-top condition within four days. That is, if we utilize all twenty viable members on the five ships and work pretty much around the clock..."

After Gideon stopped, his mind no doubt drifting off into more calculations, the Commander waited for the other half of the equation. But when no continuation came, she prompted him, "And... the worst-case scenario?"

The tech-specialist frowned. "About a month and maximum optimization would only be 80%."

"Grand... Alright, I'll leave you to coordinate the repair efforts while I deal with the diplomatic side. On that note," Armina added as she made sure to patch-in all fifty crewmembers, "everyone is instructed to carry their weapons when disembarking." It was mostly a sign that the Templars were, though in a poor situation, strong and not to be toyed with. Obviously, they didn't want any confrontation or armed conflict. The firearms in question were high-powered advanced heavy blasters that were the standard armament of the Templars. The Espers also carried a heavier arsenal as a backup in the emergency-hold, but Templars didn't generally wield larger weapons as it was unnecessary. Besides, they would just be burdensome whereas the heavy blasters would always remain in their hip-side holsters.

"Gentlemen... nothing more need be said."

Thon was unsurprised with the reactions her crew got, though one of the Mesos' growled at the screen. "That's enough, crewman." She looks at the screen again. "It will only take an hour or so to get you all aboard Atlantia... she would come to us, but she's currently watching over a colony ship."

---------

The tractor beams reached out again, but there were more ships than emitters, so the cruiser rotated around and launched magnetic clamps and manually towed the remaining craft. Not often you see clamps employed by a warship that size. The craft are pulled in close and within minutes, they were moving back towards the Union ships.

The Espers would find their navigation systems were flashing new data as well. Apparently the Castle was feeding them telemetry on exactly where they were, along with up to date maps of nearby systems and an overview of why Sol was not the garden spot of the galaxy. Namely the insane amount of fleets from every nationality one could think of, more or less, all cruising around or shooting at each other or generally just taking up space.

As Gideon worked over the comm-link with the other techies, Armina sat in silent contemplation. "Colony ship? Are we at the edge of their expanding domain? Or perhaps they are preparing to send out a colony ship from a well established base here." While she thought, as if on command, all of the necessary data began flowing into the Esper's computer database, detailing the system and its situation. The large amount of data might normally overflow the computer of a lay fighter, but the Templars had made an important discovery some years ago. When Gideon tried to explain it to her in depth, she was completely baffled. In the end, much to his dismay and pain, he said something along the lines of: 'The Universe is to the Brain is to the Computer.' It still didn't mean much to her, but from what she knew of Templar study into Cerebral Evolution, it meant that the Universe was a super powerful and complex computer. Apparently, the Templar scientists had been able to develop a machine to interface with the sub-neutrino levels of matter and utilize their connections to create a virtually endless memory bank. Further study into advanced computations and ideation had been underway when the Demons interrupted their steady world.

"Seems pretty unstable," she commented to nobody in particular. Everyone's attention was currently turned to their present state - the damage, the galactic position, the peoples here, the prospects, etc. - but few had been thinking about the most important question: "What next?" There, she said it. Nobody seemed to notice her as she had a habit of voicing some of her thoughts quietly to herself as she contemplated different things. Again, she repeated, "What next?" Louder still a third time, "What next?"


[ooc: Go ahead and bring them to dock or whatever so we can advance.]

"I..uh.."

The Atlantean officer 'in charge' of the area (not that there was much he could do to be in charge--the aliens seemed to be doing their own thing. And he wasn't going to get in their way) thought it over. The Atlantean transport ships were already running as quickly as they could, ferrying supplies from station to planetside. But even the two-hundred some assorted transports, medical ships, and mining frighters couldn't ferry all the supplies as quickly as they were being brought in. And it didn't help that they were being backlogged due to the fact that most of the docking points were occupied by the FSU transport vessels.

Crossing his arms, the man looked around for a moment, then back at the Terran. He was a little put off from the appearance...there was just something unnatural about putting so much technology in one's self. But regardless, he ignored it, this being not the time or place for that sort of thing.

"Are your drop ships capable of atmospheric flight?" he asked.

OOC: Yeah, nothing substantial yet. Have to wait a few days till I got more time.

The Terran nodded. "Of course. They are rated to atmospheric pressures fifty times that of an M-Class planet. Working on the surface should not pose a problem, as long as the engines are kept hot, to avoid icing on exposed landing facilities." An answer one would expect from a cyborg... At least he didn't give out the odds of success such a mission has.

"Dammit!" A shout rang out across the bay. A container had slipped from one of the Vare's grasp and landed directly on it's foot. The container had to weigh several hundred pounds, as it was marked 'HYDROPONIC IRRIGATION SYSTEMS'. Two other Vares halted their unloading and went to the first one's aid, helping it back to the cargo ship. Apparently the behemoths weren't impervious to damage, no matter how tough they seemed. Several Terrans converged on the container, opening it and inspecting the parts for damage. Wouldn't do to deliver broken systems...

===========

Im was waiting in the immense landing bay as the Castle slid alongside. They would get a first hand look at the small fleet of cargo ships unloading the colony vessel, before being pulled aboard the battleship.

The Espers were all places side by side and almost immediately, there were insectoids and Terrans circling the craft and inspecting outward signs of damage. Im ignored them and waited for the crews to disembark. He noted the sidearms, but said nothing. He was unarmed, seeing no need of such measures on his own battleship. Not with three dozen Mesos warriors lurking on overhead walkways and at each exit from the bay. Not to mention the hulking presence of several Vares. His ship was quite the freakshow, he knew.

Im wondered how his own species would be recieved. One way to find out... "Commander Armina, I am Fleetlord Im Kmmta. Commanding officer of the Atlantia and official representative of the Free Species Union inside this galaxy. Please forgive my crew for being curious... scientists and engineers are always very curious about new technology."

http://img223.imageshack.us/img223/2918/renegadecommodoreso9.jpg
Im Kmmta

"Greetings Lord Kmmta," Armina responded as she gave the customary slight bow of the head. She noted how pale and devoid of pigment the Fleetlord appeared, an unsettling sight to encounter at night. "I could fault them no more than I would fault our own for it is curiosity that breeds creation." There it is again, she thought, that name. She dare not look away at the moment, but the others must have been reacting as well - or perhaps she was just ignorantly hearing what she wished to hear.

Gideon was looking at the Free Union scientists and engineers with a nervous eye. He didn't like anybody getting near his babies - and they were, in his mind, his ships - but especially not giant insects. Luckily, Templar technology could only be accessed by those with a unique gene found in the earliest Templars twenty-five thousand years previously. No systems would turn on, no door would unlock without the scanners reading the proper genetic coding. Nonetheless, Gideon continued to keep his eyes on the Espers, precarious as they were on a foreign vessel.

Armina could not hold back her thought any longer and decided to subtly ask. "I am curious," she began, continuing the line of talk from just a second before, "where the name of your ship comes from. Does it have any significance?" Perhaps a mundane or odd question to ask upon first encounter, but Armina was intricately invested and interested to hear the answer.

Im's crew seemed to be content with observing the craft from a few feet away, speaking quietly as they discussed damage. Apparently the Terrans and the insectoid Xon seemed to understand each other perfectly.

The Fleetlord himself was ignoring the ships and focusing on the people in front of him, taking their measure. He didn't make such a high rank by being careless... "Indeed. Without curiosity, our species would have just sat on rocks for eons. If you have injured, my medical staff will be more than happy to assist..."

He arched an eyebrow at the question about his ship's name. "The name? Ah... well, that entails a rather lengthy story. I'll give the concise version, for the moment. The space station we are re-supplying is the last stand of a species known as Atlanteans. They once spanned a rather large chunk of this galaxy, before the Second Demon War reduced them to this. The species' you see around you were in service to aliens with power beyond any of our comprehension, who posed as the Atlanteans' ancient Gods. The leader of the Atlanteans is Empress Atlantia, who showed me many things over the course of the war... one of which was that continuing to serve the so called Gods was doing more harm than good. So we rebelled after the Demons were destroyed... I had thought Atlantia killed in the battle that destroyed her homeworld, so I named my new flagship in her honor. Needless to say, I was quite surprised to arrive here several days ago only to find her very much alive and very much in need of assistance in rebuilding her Republic." If that was the short version...

"Luckily, we are all in fine health. The stabilizers and dampeners remained online despite the damage we incurred," she replied to his offer. Even had she been slightly injured, she would have been more interested in hearing the answer to her question than receiving medical attention.

The space station we are re-supplying is the last stand of a species known as Atlanteans.

At the annunciation of the name, there were several audible gasps from the crew. Could it really be? Armina wondered. "Could there really be Atlanteans here...

Gideon, who had remained silent as he kept an eye on the aliens inspecting his craft, turned his attention back to Im at hearing his answer. "Ah... I get it," he said as the entire Templar force remained silent. He chuckled silently and took a few steps forward. "This is all a dream. We're still asleep. Yes, it makes perfect sense... when the nova-blast hit the ships, the concussive force must have overpowered the stabilizers and inertial dampeners, causing us to lose consciousness. My mind created this from my own memory and thoughts... None of this is rea-"

Daemon, the frightening tank of a man who was lovingly called Killer, backhanded Gideon across the face as the techie walked by. The blow was such that it lifted the significantly weaker and smaller Gideon off his feet and sent him falling to the floor on his ass. "Oi..." Gideon said as he leaned forward off his back. "Alright, perhaps not." Daemon just grunted. "But then how do you explain the Atlanteans."

Godwin, the Executive Officer of the Esper Force, grabbed Gideon's hands and pulled him back to his feet. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but they just disappeared. Nothing in the records points to them being wiped out... Who's to say they didn't move from one spot in the galaxy to another?"

"If that's true..." Gideon trailed off as his unfocused eyes looked towards a random spot on the ground. A million thoughts a moment were speeding through his head. While his eyes looked not forward, his feet carried him back into the hull of Esper-1. Atlanteans...? An ancient people. Advanced technology. Archon's Law of Dynamic-Cognizance and Cerebral Evolution. Psionic abilities. Unique genetic code. What if the Atlanteans moved here thousands of years ago, before we Templars came into existence? I must meet these Atlanteans, test their genes, determine their cerebral evolutionary state. I could prove Archon's Law. And what if we're related? The techie began rummaging around in the cargo-hold, looking for something he had packed away. Shit...

"You'll have to excuse him," Armina replied. "We too have a lengthy story and many unanswered questions dealing with that name. I do not know whether this was fate or merely fortuitous, but we'll make the best of it one way or another. Interesting though, we also fought a dark enemy that we called Demons. Unfortunately, we were not so fortunate as you were. Their ranks were unmatchable and something willed them forward across our borders... and then there was just us... here."

Im takes a small projector from his belt. "Io." An instant later, a uniformed woman appears, standing only a foot high. "Yes, commander?" Im's mouth quirks up at one end just a bit. "Display archival image of Empress Atlantia."

A full color image replaced the woman. It grew to a point that it was life size and showed an attractive, if obviously tired woman in what looked like her twenties. She had silvery hair and deep eyes... the quintessential Atlantean. "This is the Empress... about three years ago. Before the Second Demon War." The image vanishes and the woman re-appears. "Commander, the colony ship is requesting permission to begin landing supplies on the planet, as the station will not hold all of them." Im nods. "Tell them that they can proceed, so long as Hope Station permits." She vanishes after a half bow and he taps at the controls, sifting through data at a rapid pace. If any of them saw it, it would be useless, being in an unknown language.

Looking over the arrivals, Im senses a group in shock. "If you are speaking of the same Demons... we fared poorly. The Union numbers only about four million beings. The Atlanteans just a tad more than that. The Union is only a powerful force because nearly three quarters of the population is employed in fleets and was not tied to a planet for survival." His voice holds a bitter edge to it, unsurprisingly. He calls up a picture of a Demon cruiser. Dark, shiny, spined leading edges and sending out an aura of 'evil' even in holographic form. He doesn't even ask if they had ever seen such a craft... their faces would answer for him. "The only silver lining is that they suffered even worse. We estimate there are only a few thousand left and are badly scattered. We now work on rebuilding and routing their remaining forces."

OOC: Auburn...where the hell are you? The 'two groups of ships' are in SOL now, not the Gree system. We're on the vast outskirts of Earth's solar system. There's absolutly no one in the Gree system unless they're your own guys, and if that's the case, then why?

IC:

A body lay still in the sickbay of the Destiny. He was of similar age look to Sid, Xolin, or Trok, about his mid-twenties. He was also unconcious, and plugged in to a large number of machines near his bed. He had been that way ever since the Destiny had picked him up a few weeks after finding him adrift in a small Demon...stasis pod, for the lack of a better term. Honestly, no one knew what the small capsule had been used for, other then it had plugged itself into him.

One might have felt pity for this man, who's life seemed to be passing him by as he lay there, as still as a corpse. The slow but stady beeping sound of the measured heatbeats was the only indication that this man was indeed alive at some level.

But one man did not feel pity.

"Still not awake?" Sid asked, crossing his arms. He sat opposite of a large pane of plexiglass, along with the ship's doctor, doctor Lakin.

"No...it looked as he was about to a few days ago, but he simply returned to...what I can guess is a form of stage four sleep. No REM, no other stages of sleep...it's almost as if he's braindead as far as higher brain function go"

"Except he's not. He managed higher sleep functions a few days ago"

"Exactly. Almost as if he was fighting his way out" the doctor replied, as both stared at the frozen body.

Sid glared at it, "I want him awake soon, doctor. I want answers"

"I know you do, Sid. But I can't give them to you. I don't even know what's wrong with him, or what they did to him"

A beep signaled on Sid's wrist communicator. "Sid here, go"

"This is Xolin" came the female voice, "I thought you might want to know that we're approching the first system. We'll be emerging in normal space momentairly"

"Understood, Xolin. I'll be up in a minute" Closing the link, the captain looked at the doctor, making a half shrug, not sure what to say.

The doctor made a small smile, "I'll inform you if anything changes, don't worry"

Sid nodded as he prepared to walk out the door. "Thanks"

***

A tear in subspace opened wide like a rippling blue gem as not one, not two, but twelve small cruisers flew forward into the empty system, designated J-361. This was the first stop for the wing of Destiny class ships, who's mission was to locate a suitable homeworld for the Atlantean people.

At first glance, it seemed like a prime target. A single yellow dwarf star, like Sol, with six planets in-system, three of them small and rocky. But closer inspections would prove less-then-favorable. The first two planets were class B, like Mercury; while the third was class N, like Venus. The moons of the outer gas giants proved just as inhospitable, ranging from volcanic wastelands to icy tundra.

Finding nothing of value, the fleet moved onto the next system on the list.

***

Due to both the requests of the Atlantean officer in the loading bay, as well as Im's ship, access to begin unloading supplies directly on the surface was granted to the colony ship. A detailed map of the layout of the planet was sent to both the Atlantia and the colony ship. On it, it seemed that there were eight major docking centers, six in the northern hemisphere, and two in the southern. Of them, two of them on the northern side seemed to be larger then the others, ideal for this kind of work.

Almost all of the complex seemed to be subterrinian (and what wasn't was indoors--shielding from the thin arctic atmosphere that consisted mostly of methane and carbon dioxide)

OOC: sorry, missed that. how about we save the trouble and I just leave. I don't want to start anything...

The cargo ships en-route altered course immediately, heading towards the planet's surface. They requested the least busy ports that still accommodated their size and headed for those first, landing in groups of three. The Vares on board these craft strode off carrying the crates as if they were nothing, starting a pile on one end of the cargo area. Within an hour, the ships were empty and they were replaced by three more at each port. Limiting the flow would slow the process of offloading the colony ship, but speed the distribution of supplies to the colony itself.

In orbit, the Castle slowly slipped into a protective position, serving as overwatch for the stream of cargo ships. Being that it was Sol, the Union wasn't about to be anything less than paranoid.

The burden of command seems to have weighed heavily on her, Armina thought with a tinge of sadness as she looked at the holographic image of Atlantia. She was definitely pretty by anyone's standards, but the recent years of hardship had begun to physically show on the Empress. As the image of the Empress disappeared, Armina had a thought, Her name is Atlantia... so similar to the name of her people. Could that mean she is a direct and pureblood descent of the original Atlanteans? Of course there were plenty of explanations for why her name was Atlantis: random luck of the draw, it could be a popular name, it could be an assumed name for the leaders, etc. But Empress was generally a term for an inherited position of rule in an Empire, making the significance of her name in terms of genetic links all the greater. If anyone was going to prove a link between the Atlanteans of old and these, it would be someone with a relatively closed genetic path... and 80,000 years was going to be difficult. I'll have to talk with Gideon about this...

As Im finished dealing with his other business and brought the image of a Demon ship to the holograph projector, Armina inspected it momentarily. There were various different models of Demon ship that she had heard of, and few had actually seen one and survived... especially now with only fifty. "Well, I've got some bad news for you then... there may only be a few thousand of them left around here, but there are a lot of them left in the universe... a whole lot." I think. "Granted the vast, vast majority of our population was non-military, but that is still several hundred times over what you have described."

Im knew the answers Armina wanted, knowing enough of Atlantia well enough to hear her life story. Without being asked, though... he switched the emitter off and replaced it on his belt. "If that's the case, we'll follow our last standing orders from the Olympians, as they serve the purposes of all beings. Hunt them down and kill every last one of them, like we did here... it's costly, but if you can disrupt the photonic makeup of the hull, you can smash them to pieces." He paused as one of the giant Vares approached. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Fleetlord, we have finished our initial survey of these vessels... they are badly damaged, but with the equipment and technical assistance the Atlantia can render, I believe that at least three quarters of them can be brought to full operational status and perhaps half the remaining to partial status. Any others are spare parts. I would say that, depending on the technological differences between our vessels, the work should proceed at a steady pace. I can give no solid date for finishing the repairs, given I have only made a visual scan of the craft." Despite being spoken without a single mispronounced word or pause, the small speech the nine foot tall walking forklift of a man just delivered was accepted with merely a nod.

"Very well... coordinate with our guests. Provide them anything they need to repair their ship, including any personnel they may require." Im turned back towards the Commander. "I will also be providing your crew quarters... be warned though, this is a ship of war. Not a cruise liner. All we have are crew dorms and junior officer quarters open at this time."

One by one, a cargoship would move into view of her window, and gradually got smaller as they approached the icy planet below. It was a large window, covering half of the circular room she stood in, as well as a portion of the ceiling. There was no real official name for the room, just that is was an observation lounge of sorts, for recreational purposes. Most of the rest of the wall was an aquarium, filled with all types of sea life from what had once lived on Cirrus before the planet had been glassed. Only the soft glow from it's internal lighting and the faint light from the distant Sol lit the room. Soft, darkened light. Just the way she liked it. It added a bit of somber calmness, she found. Much better for thinking then bright florescent lighting.

Right now however, the room was empty except for her. There was not much downtime for anyone these days, and what was was usually spent sleeping or in the mess hall.

"Empress"

Atlantia moved her head to the side, so she could see who had just entered the door as light from outside flooded in. She stood, leaning forward on the rails near the window, a small cup in her hands. She watched as Koth moved into the room, the door closing behind him.

"Yes?" she asked, turning back to the window. The tone was flat, as if she wasn't too interested in anything Koth had to say.

"My people traced an unauthorized use of the replicators in this room. I came to see who had been responsible"

"Spying on me now?" she asked, still looking away from him. "Cute. Don't worry, it's only coffee, nothing elaborate. I just needed a caffeine boost"

Koth seemed slightly put off by her attitude. He crossed his arms. "It doesn't matter what it is, it's still a violation of regulations. We have only a limited energy supply, we can't waste it. Even you aren't an exception to the law"

"We've got several months worth of food coming in, I don't think this one cup is going to cause another apocalypse"

"You test my patience, Atlantia" Koth growled, "You are not a formal member of the command staff. You currently hold nothing more then prestige. And I assure you, that will not get you far should you decide to cross us"

She smirked. "Threats now, admiral? I always figured you were one of my supporters"

"Once, perhaps. Things change, 'Empress'" Koth gave one last glare at Atlantia, although she could not see it, and walked out of the room. A moment of silence passed.

"Things *do* change" she muttered to herself, looking down at the dark liquid in the cup, before finishing it off in one gulp.

Interesting... her support is tenuous. Even more important that this mission continue. The Fleetlord will wish to know about this when I return.

The thoughts were of the other person inside the room Atlantia occupied. Her newest bodyguard, that she didn't even know she had. She, like the rest of the Atlanteans, were unaware of his presence on board. He was confident that not even the crew of the cargo ship knew that he had traveled over with them. Unlike most infiltration missions he had been on, though... this one had been painfully easy. Mistakes had been made by the security staff, as they were too busy trying to deal with so many new arrivals and their own thoughts of a square meal. Not large mistakes, but just enough to allow him to slip about undetected.

Finding Atlantia didn't prove too difficult, as she made her way through corridors. He was inches from her at times and never saw any indication she had noticed. Now that they were in such a quiet place though, he had to be extremely careful to keep his breathing slow and steady and not brush up against anything.

He was a Stalker, elite soldiers who boarded Demon ships and hacked their computers without the crews ever knowing. He had seen many things in only eight years... even seen Titan Gods and been close enough to kill them. He had refrained though, because the data he gained was more important than the death of a Titan. Now, watching the troubled ex-leader of the Atlanteans, he felt bored and restless. Enough that his attention slipped and a barely audible sigh came out...

Immediately Atlantia's mind switched to fight or flight mode, her heartbeat quickening. No one else should have been in the room...not unless they had been intentionally hiding. Could Koth have been planning to actually have her assassinated? Perhaps the sigh had been a product of her own imagination, and was simply one of the many sounds the station's many systems made as it proceeded across whatever duties it was commanded to perform. But regardless, if it *was* more then her imagination... Spinning around, the paranoid empress gripped a small rod on her belt. It extended into a long, thin, ornate pole, with three blades at the end. A trident. She knew it would not help her if the attacker had brought a ranged weapon like a rifle with him or her, but her training and knowledge of the weapon gave her a better chance then none at all...

The Stalker froze and eyed Atlantia. She had heard that. Dammit. There were three options now... stay silent and hope she thinks it was her imagination, make a run for it or turn his stealth generator off. The first two would undoubtedly make her paranoid against everyone, while the last would possibly show her how much Im cared for her continued good health.

He spoke, going with the third option. "Increase lighting three levels." As the lights responded, he stood slowly. There was a small waver of distortion with the movement. It provided her with two very important bits of information. He was at least six feet tall and was wearing an extremely advanced special ops cloak. The waver came back as he walked towards her from his place against the wall. The distortion was very faint and if one wasn't looking for it, it would probably go unnoticed. When he was four feet from her, he deactivated the cloak.

There was no large distortion or ripple, he simply faded in as the power shut off. Standing just over six feet, his skin was white as paste. Well, that told where he came from. There was no hair on his head, to avoid noise. He wore a decidedly non-stealthy red jumpsuit with gear strapped securely to his body. What she would notice immediately is the lack of any sort of weapon on his form, save for a knife securely strapped to his leg. He immediately bowed at the waist. "Empress... forgive me. You were not supposed to become aware of my presence at this time." He straightened up and explained, his low and level voice an attempt to calm her. "I am Joa, your personal bodyguard. The Fleetlord assigned me to keep watch over you and protect you from any who do not wish you to return to power. Desperate times breed desperate actions... and those actions seldom lead to good things. I have been ordered to sacrifice my own life for yours, should the situation arise. You must survive. You are the most important Atlantean alive today."

Joa spoke the words with a power and confidence that would leave no doubt that he believed every bit of them. "I just wasn't supposed to reveal myself so soon. I have failed my mission." A twinge of regret passed through his voice.

The empress stepped back as the lighting level increased, her body and mind still in a self-defense mode. Who in the hell was in the room? Her question was answered as the small distortion flickered in front of her. She knew she had little time, even as her body froze, unable to move forward to strike at the large being. Then she realized that if it wanted her dead, she would probably already have been shot. Rather, the being was walking towards her.

Four feet away now stood a person similar to Im, sans hair. A *tall* person similar to Im, sans hair. And no weapons. Not one pistol, rifle, sword, or...well, there *was* that knife there. What's what this was? Assassinated by knife? Perhaps she would have supposedly taken her own life? How...quaint. However, her fears were put away somewhat when he bowed, rather then stabbed her. And then came the explanation.

Right. Im. Who else would have been responsible for this? Koth didn't have the experianced officers needed for a true assassination attempt...at least not one with this much skill and technology. Atlantia silently mused at the would-be ironic prospect of Koth using the limited resources they had just to strike at her, after telling her the exact same thing, only with the coffee. Putting her hand in her hair, she scratched her head somewhat, not sure what to make of this. A bodyguard? How...sweet. And slightly uncomfortable. She arched her eyebrow. The adrenaline in her body was starting to slow down now, causing her body to feel a bit weaker as she crashed from the high.

"So..." she said, and then cleared her throat, "...Im sent you? Why...didn't he want you to reveal yourself?"

Odd. She felt slightly trapped. On one side, Koth was threatening to remove her. On the other, Im was doing all in his power to *put* her on the throne. She felt like she was little more then a puppet in a political tug of war. She hoped Sid would get home soon...he and his crew were some of the few she could truly trust. Even moreso then Im.

***

"Delta Orion, nada. Y364, nada. GC-4873, nada. Epsilon Vega, nada..."

"Do you *have* to be such an optimist?" Trok put down the padd he had been reading, and turned to face Xolin. He was sitting in a chair in the Destiny's break room, his feet on the table. Xolin was sitting upright on the other side of the table, however, rattling off star systems.

"I wish" Xolin grumbled, "Not one suitable system. Either they're all dead planets, or the worlds are already inhabited, or some sort of strange lifeform is devouring the planet..."

Trok's eyes widened somewhat as he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that last one was just the gods kicking us in the balls and laughing, I'll admit"

"Not one system on the list yet"

Trok sat up and leaned in. "Look, we've only been out in space a few days. There's still plenty more on the list"

"Hope you're right..." Xolin muttered, looking out the window at the blue subspace corridor the ship was flying though, flanked by a wing of ships just like it.

Joa looked out the viewport. "Because you were supposed to have gained some measure of power on your own. I was assigned to you as a last resort to save your life. We are here to help. To save your civilization. Fleetlord Kmmta assigned me to you personally. I am the best the Union has to offer... I have been within inches of Titans and they never knew it. Just as you never knew I was within inches of you." He took a small piece of paper from a pouch. "This is a message for you from the Fleetlord." The message explained Joa's duties (to protect Atlantia's life at all costs and to keep track of anyone who may be plotting against her) and his role in her life (a guardian angel, who appears from nowhere and acts, then vanishes without a trace). It also stated that there was a gift waiting for her inside her quarters.

Joa chose that moment to speak. "I have read the note and I did not enter your quarters at any time. Though I did see a delivery made there, as I searched for you. A box, of some sort. It did have Union markings on it."

Knowing she was most likely curious as to what Im had sent her, besides an invisible bodyguard, he activated her cloak and would follow her silently, keeping up with her even in the most crowded of corridors. Those were, ironically, the easiest to get through. He could brush someone and they'd believe it was simply another person in the corridor that had done so and not be alarmed by it.

========

Once inside her quarters, he surveyed it quickly and noticed the box immediately. The box itself appeared to be nothing more than a small shipping container. When opened though, a rumbling noise rolled out, a second before a creature shot straight up and latched onto the ceiling. Looking down at Atlantia was a creature she had probably not seen since childhood... a dragon, only as long as her arm. This wasn't exactly a 'cute and cuddly' one, though. It looked quite intelligent and scanned the room throughly, before suddenly launching itself at an area near the door... landing on nothing.

"Get off me, you flying belt." Joa said through the cloak, getting an annoyed screech in return as the dragon flapped it's wings and settled on the bed, looking at Atlantia. Joa flicked the power off again. "Interesting. It's a companion creature... somewhat like Argo is to the Fleetlord." The bodyguard motioned towards the box. "There should be more. Some sort of implant."

Indeed there was... along with instructions. The implant was a surface one, designed to be attached at the tip of the spine. Apparently it would allow instantaneous communication with the dragon, allowing the two to speak without speaking and allowing the dragon to alert Atlantia to anything out of the ordinary. There were two of the implants and the instructions said to let anyone she trusted pick one at random and take it apart, so there would be no fear of damaging a one of a kind implant. They were both tuned to the Dragon, apparently. At the end of the instructions was a hand-written note. You once said you wanted a dragon... -Im

With a curious expression, Atlantia unfolded the paper and began to glance over it, speed reading her way though. She found the idea of Joa being a 'Guardian Angel' to be just a tad ironic, considering his background. She hid a possible smile from forming at the amusement of that notion as she finished reading the note. A gift? Her slightly bemused expression returned to that of a curious (and slightly perplexed) one. Joa explained a bit further for her, but she was still very curious.

Atlantia blinked as her new guardian vanished into thin air. It was disconcerting--she knew he was still there, staring at her like she was at him. Turning her body towards the door, she kept her eyes on the invisible form of Joa for a moment longer (assuming he was still *there*, of course. But, a bluff was a bluff), before turning completely and walking out of the door and into the hallway.

Once or twice as she made her way though the hallway, the empress would look behind her, down the hallway. She knew she wouldn't be able to see Joa if he was indeed following her (which he probably was), but still... It was then she realized that this might just be a bit uncomfortable at times, if he was *always* there. Regardless...

Moving into her room, she took notice of the small box. Wondering what could be in it, she turned it over for a second, seeing if there was any note or clue before she actually opened it. Resting it in her arms, she stared down at it for a moment, before carefully moving to open it. And then the rumbling noise came. And the object that flew out of it.

Thinking for a moment she had just become the modern day equivalent for Pandora, Atlantia let loose a loud "eep!" in surprise and terror as she dropped the box. She spun around to where the creature had flown...and saw two things. One, it was perched on thin air. Two, it...was *very* familiar. Very familiar indeed. It took her a moment to digest the fact that in front of her was a creature she had not seen in...well, technically thousands upon thousands of years. But although most of that time had been spent in deep freeze, it had still be eons. Decades. Not since she was a child.

A dragon?

Taking heed of Joa's advice, she picked the box back up, and took out the instructions, glancing over them. She looked down at the two implants inside, then back at the note. As she read the end of it, a smile crept over her face, remembering the conversation they had had back on the Trident. And she laughed. A real laugh, not just a smile or a chuckle or a giggle. A laugh.

"Oh jeeze..." she managed to say, "They're going to have a cow about this one" She sat down on the bed, taking a moment to catch her breath. Smiling, she shook her head in disbelief. She took one of the implants and looked it over in her hand. "Someone I trust...hmmm. Sadly, most of them are off on a mission. But I *think* I can find a doctor who's on my side"

On the planet below, things seemed to be going swimmingly... which was always a forewarning of doom in some way or another. One of the cargo ships inbound on the planet was jockeying for position for a landing spot with a local vessel with a rather stubborn captain, when the cargo ship pilot decided he had had enough of the local captain crowding him. So he didn't give way this time and let his ship collide with the smaller freighter. Normally, this wouldn't have been a large problem, but adding in the fact they were two-thousand feet above the planet's surface and it becomes one.

Both ships lost altitude rapidly and fought for control of their ships. Less than 800 feet off the icy surface, the cargo ship regained control, even though the port side atmospheric engine had stalled out.

=======

Joa eyed the dragon. "It's a good choice, defensively. The dragon will augment your own instincts and provide you with greater warning of any threat." A small pause. "It will also mean I can remain at a greater distance from you and intercept any such threat." One track mind, this guy.

The dragon seemed to ignore the special forces operative and was instead studying Atlantia. After taking her measure, it flapped it's wings and landed on the computer console. It brought up a text document tool and started typing, as best it could (which was remarkably well). I am Tanis. I have been ordered to serve you as Argo serves the Fleetlord. I am trained as a tactician, as well as being quite adept as covert operations and close quarters combat. Almost creepy, when you see that a two foot long dragon typed it.

Behind them, Joa hmmphed. "Good at covert ops. Because no one would notice a dragon flapping around..." That got another annoyed squawk out of the dragon.

"Well, I leave the decision up to you..." Armina responded to the Fleetlord, "Whether or not to hunt down the Demons. However, I would not make the decision lightly... even with whatever forces and knowledge you have, they outnumber you by hundreds to one. And we don't even know if they are same. You might encounter them and futilely attempt to disrupt the hull as they shred their forces. Who knows? It might be best to just leave those Demons of the far reaches at an arm's length... and focus on rebuilding here." As she spoke, her words brought thoughts of her own people to her mind. Rebuilding. Was it even possible? For a million reasons... Doubtful.

The loose fitting hood of the brown cloak that sat lightly on the female commander's form fell backwards as Armina briskly moved her left hand to the side of her head. Hidden behind smooth brown locks of hair, a small circular device with a red glowing center and slight rectangular extension in the front was sealed against her temple. It wasn't quite apparent whether it was just pressed against the skin or an implant, but it was obvious that it was one of the Templar's numerous technological 'goodies'. It connected to the visual cortex of the brain and created a head-up display window in front of their eyes. On the blue holo-screen, visible only in her mind's eye, a list of data was scrolling in front of her. Gideon, still in Esper-1 working away on the situation-report, was sending information on the status of the ships. Armina was looking it over, prompted by the Lieutenant's report to Im.

She tapped her temple again, making the screen and data disappear. "I have faith in my techies," Armina responded to the report. "With just a few scraps of metal from you kindly, they'll be able to fix everything up. The shields prevented most serious physical damage - majority of it is technical wiring and stuff. Plus, they were designed so that they could be repaired without mega-machinery or heavy lifting; sleek and smooth so that nothing major was knocked off." Gideon emerged from the hatch of Esper-1 wiping his hands of grease with a white towel. "Gideon here will coordinate with your men." The techie stopped wiping his hands momentarily and looked up at the 'people' he was going to have to coordinate with. Though he didn't let it show, it obviously didn't sit well with him. Regardless of whether he would have to associate with them, Gideon had decided long ago - human or not - nobody was going to touch his ships; he didn't care how reliant or in debt to these people they were.

"I assure you, whatever accommodations you have available will be more than acceptable. We live on those ships for more weeks and months at a time if necessary," Godwin, the Executive Officer, replied to the offer. "And should any of us not find the gifted bunks comfortable, we shall simply return to sleep in the Espers."

Armina nodded in concurrence. "Yes... but in the mean time... I was wondering if it would be at all possible if we could meet with these Atlanteans, especially Atlantia. We are most interested."

"Fleetlord!"

Im was about to respond when the voice burst over the comm. "Report."

"There's been a collision. One of our cargo ships and a local freighter half it's size." A pause. "Our cargo ship is reporting a stalled left engine and unknown exterior damage. No casualties."

"And the Atlantean ship?"

"No word yet."

Im looked annoyed. His ships running into local ships wasn't a good thing, for public relations or getting supplies safely to the planet. "Inform the Atlanteans of the incident, tell the pilot to put down at the nearest landing site and to perform a full safety inspection while the cargo is offloaded."

Turning his attention back to the Templar's, he nodded. "Good... my engineers will be glad to lend any hand you require." He paused at the question. "I suppose I can ask the Empress to speak with you... but it would be better if I could specify what you wanted to speak about."

A Terran stepped from around one of the Espers, a scanning device in his hands. He stepped up to Gideon and nodded. As with all the other Terrans, this one looked like a well tanned ex-Borg. His entire right eye appeared to be replaced with some sort of cybernetic equivalent and after a moment, it appeared the scanner was hooked into a wire leading to the engineer's head. "Sir, I am Engineer Fisk. Any requests you have should be routed through myself or Zigg over there." He motions to the behemoth Vare that had reported to Im. "We're the two Senior Engineers with the most experience with smaller craft."

"Well, that may be, but no 'smaller craft' is like these," Gideon said boastfully as he pulled on fake suspenders in what would have been a snapping motion. He had gone through five designs and fifteen years building the first prototype, and that was only after he had twenty-five thousand years of Templar research to start out and eight hundred years of 'self-sufficient fighter' research. They were essentially his life's work. "Well, anyway..." Gideon turned his gaze from his baby back to the metal heads. "Here is a list of everything we'll need," the techie said as he tossed a datapad to the Senior Engineers.

-50x Tons Cyber-Warped Grade AII Armor
-1x Heavy Laser Cutter
-200x square feet Impenetrable Star-Glass
-25x Durasteel Containers
-45x Large Charged Core Detonators
-8x Triple Refractor Lenses
-50x square feet Reinforced Metal Grating
-1000x Gallons Steel-Paint
-3400x Yards Standard Wiring
-4x Trucks of Assorted Parts
-3x Varoni-Delicatessens

Seeing as the two peoples shared little in common - other than their knowledge of another people known as Atlanteans - the list was likely to be in large part meaningless. The specifics, at least: sizes, types, and the likes. Some of the names and technological parts were unique to the Templars, like the hull's armoring, but the best replacement would have to do. "If you don't have it, the best alternative will do..." Gideon added over his shoulder. He even added his favorite sandwich to the end of the list, though that would be an impossible order to fill.

Turning to the other forty-nine Templars, Gideon seemed to look at about a third of the faces individually. "Alright boys," he said, speaking just to the dozen and a half or so other engineers, "Let's get to work. We'll begin in five teams of four working on Espers One, Three, Four, Seven, and Ten. Once our supplies are here we'll split into teams of two and continue structural repairs on all Espers. I hope you're all rested because we'll be able working for the next twelve hours, at which time the first rotation of ten will take a six hour shift, with the following rotations being twelve hours..." The Templars he was talking to grimaced at the load of their work to b done. It didn't seem reasonable or necessary to work so rapidly when their state wasn't going to change any. What would the difference be if they finished in one week of two, they wondered.

Armina turned her head forward from over her shoulder where Gideon was giving orders to her men. "Talk about? Well, I suppose everything and nothing. We are two vastly different peoples who have never encountered before and yet we share so much in common, me thinks. I think either of those would warrant a meeting with the leader here. We have many questions and I suppose some answers too. More things to discuss than we have time in the day... So, shall we?"

The empress's eyes widened as she watched the dragon type up its message. This was no ordinary pet. This...this was...something else entirely. He was...well, like Argo, as both he and Joa had said. Hearing the agent's remark, and the dragon's reaction, Atlantia made a short good-natured giggle.

"It's nice to meet you, Tanis" Atlantia said to the dragon, a wide smile still on her face. It was almost like Christmas, if any Atlantean had ever celebrated the holiday (which, given the time Atlanteans had spent on Earth after the Zoir war, and accompanied by the sheer amount of religious minority sects in Atlantean culture, was likely very probable). Atlantia mused on the naming of her new companion. It seemed fitting, as although she didn't know the direct meaning, it reminded her of other traditional reptilian names.

***

"Get out of the *way*, we have deliveries to make!" the pilot had said, yelling in frustration at the larger Union vessel trying to wrestle its way in. "I had this spot first!"

"Yelling at it won't make it move, pilot" the captain had said, sighing at his pilot's impatience.

The pilot grumbled, "Then I'll *make* it move". Before the captain could stop him, he had maneuvered the ship towards the larger vessel, hoping it would clear out of the way and let him in, except...it didn't. The ship shuddered as the two collided, followed by alarms blaring as the cargo vessel began to lose altitude. The pilot desperately attempted to regain control of his charge, but the gravity well of the planetoid was too strong at this range. The ship's engine cores had already been exhausted long before, and resupplying was infrequent these days. The pilot's eyes widened in both realization of his mistake and terror as a field of ice took up the entire viewscreen. "Oh sh--"

"ALL HANDS, BRACE FOR IMPACT!" the captain shouted over the alarms, bucking himself into his seat. The other crewmembers did as well, just before the vessel scraped across the peak of a large mound of ice, and hit the plain below, sliding across the ice until it slammed into another ice mountain.

As the smoke in the small 'bridge' cleared, the captain coughed as he unbuckled. "Report!"

"We've...landed" said another crewmember. "Reports coming in now...no casualities yet, but we've got a couple injuries reported already"

"Get me status on engines, and then send an SOS to the docking port. Tell them we need a towtruck"

"Yes sir"

The pilot smiled sheepishly as he slowly turned around to face the captain. The captain locked his eyes on the pilot, glaring. "Consider your pay docked"

The pilot's face dropped. "Not like any of us get paid these days anyway" he said, before turning back around.

***

"UNbelievable" Koth exclaimed, having just been handed a padd with the latest report, about an apparent collision between a cargoship and one of those damned Union ships. The Union ship had apparently gotten off easy, being able to veer off just in time (oh, yay), but the Atlantean ship was grounded. No casualties luckily, but some injuries and a ton of damaged cargo. Two other ships had been sent in to pry it from the ice via tractorbeams, and tow it back to the base. "You invite someone in, and look what happens"

Something needed to be done. But what? With the Destiny fleet off looking for a new homeworld, Koth didn't have the military muscle to face off against Im's fleet in case they didn't comply with leaving. And besides, they still had more cargo to deliver. But the cargo couldn't last forever, and the Destiny fleet would be back on the inside of a month. Koth could wait.

A beep. That meant an incoming message. Koth pressed the play button, and a woman appeared on his screen.

"Sir, we've just gotten a strange signal emanating from the Empress's quarters. Two, actually"

"Where did they come from?" asked Koth, suddenly a bit worried, "Who are they? Can we get camera confirmation?"

The woman shook her head, "The Empress...removed her cameras some time ago. Each time we put in new ones, she manages to find them within minutes"

Cunning, as usual, Koth mused to himself. The woman continued, "The best we can get is internal sensors. It...just appeared a moment ago. And tracking back through the logs of where the Empress has been, appeared in the observation lounge as well. We can't confirm it, it's fuzzy, but we think it's one of Im's people"

Koth's eyes narrowed, "And the other?"

"The other's been in her room for awhile. We can't even get a good reading on it, like it's not in our current database"

Koth leaned back, folding his hands, and contemplating. He couldn't just barge in there. That would be foolish and make him look like the bad guy, which he wasn't. He didn't like this at all. He felt powerless, as if he could do nothing but watch as any control over his people slipped out of his hands and into the hands of some...aliens.

"Keep an eye on it for now" he said finally. "And I mean *close*. Keep active sensors on the Empress on all times, and inform me the *instant* something happens, understood?"

"Yes sir"

Im nodded and turned to go. "I will inform the Empress of your request the next time I speak to her. For now, I must return to my duties." And he's off, striding for the lifts.

Fisk had meanwhile looked over the list. He called up specifics on each. "I can get you all the general stuff. Wiring, cutter, grating, etc... but I'll have to consult with Io to see if we can rig some equivalents to the specialty items." He nodded and raised an arm, a small figure appearing on the back of his wrist. "Io, receive and analyze the following list. I want to know if we have what they need within the hour."

The AI nodded. "Acknowledged, Engineer." And she vanished again.

After looking at the list again, Fisk hmmed. That last one sounded interesting. He nodded and walked off, to consult with a few other Engineers and one hurried off.

===========

As Atlantia studied the dragon, her door opened. Joa was gone as well... Probably just outside, standing watch. Or he could be returning to Im to file his report. Either way, Atlantia wouldn't know for sure until he wished her to know... or Tanis gave him away.

[I'm gonna turn Tanis over to you, AS. She's Atlantia's now.]

"Commander, the blip is gone again!"

Inuik glanced over at the officer at the sensor station in central ops. "Which one?"

The young man replied, "The alien signal, the one that keeps vanishing. The...fuzzy unknown is still in Atlantia's quarters, but we can't seem to establish lock on it"

"Keep an eye on it" Inuik replied, very puzzled. What was going on around here?

"Aye sir"

***

Atlantia's eyebrow arched as her eyes made contact with the door that had just open and shut. Joa was gone, again. This whole 'guardian angel' buisness would take some *real* getting used to.

Looking back down at the implant, she held it in her hands again, going over it with her fingers. As her hand fooled with it, she glanced out the window, then back at Tanis, who was now sitting on the desk next to the computer. A contemplative look on her face, she went over though her mind the names of doctors she knew. They had to be both skilled and actually *loyal* to her. She wasn't taking chances. Perhaps it would be better if she waited for the Destiny to return...

Wait. Rathma.

"Computer, locate Doctor Rathma" she said, getting up and moving over towards the computer. A map of a section of the station appeared on the screen, with a blip where Rathma was. "Perfect. Now...how to get down there..."

She couldn't risk a communication over an open channel. Tanis would be spotted immedietly, wouldn't he? But then she thought back to the dragon's message. Covert ops.

"I...assume you can get to there" the empress pointed to the blip on the screen, "From here, without being seen?"

Tanis seemed to nod. Atlantia grinned slightly. It was time to make a visit to Rathma. She would have to make a mental note to thank Im the next time they met.

***

Parsolis D was a dim, red dwarf star, on the outskirts of a *very* interesting quintary star system consisting of at least five stars and a multitude of planets. The two innermost stars formed a binary pair, one of them a yellow dwarf, and the other a cooler orange dwarf. While reletivly close to each other, they were spaced far enough away from each other in their orbits to allow for a small assortment of small rocky planets in orbit of either star.

A second binary system, in orbit with the first binary system, was more of an odd couple then the first, although not unheard of by any extent of the imagination. A large, young blue giant star, orbited by a small white dwarf. The smaller one had probably at one point been a companion blue giant, but its sister had drained all of its energy in order to lengthen its own existance. While habitable rocky planets were less likely to exist in this sub-system, a large amount of gas giants had been detected, possibly even a brown dwarf.

Pardolis D, however, orbited on the outskirts, making a slow path around the two sub-systems, indicating the edge of the system. It was a flare star, meaning that like the blue giant/white dwarf pair, habitable planets were unlikly to exist. But that didn't mean other small rocky or icy planets existed.

Beyond Pardolis D lay the system's Kuiper Belt and Oort Cloud, much larger then Sol's due to the sheer size of the system. It rested near a large nebula, its greenish-blue texture making a beautiful backdrop in the night sky. So large, in fact, that from a planet during certain times of the year, it could fill up a full fourth of the sky.

In a flash of light, a full flock of metallic birds burst onto the scene, ready to scan the system for habitable planets...

***

Clearing his throat, Koth prepared for the discussion that was about to take place. He admitted he had a bit of the jitters, for reasons he couldn't figure out. Maybe, just maybe...he feared Im.

"Open a communication with Fleetlord Im Ktmma"

Joa moved through the corridors with almost complete impunity, though he stayed well away from scanning equipment and anyone who looked half way special forces. Those two situations could reveal him without notice.

He easily boarded one of the transports and sent a coded burst message to the Atlantia. It was piggybacking a transponder code, so it was likely to not be noticed.

As he turned to leave, he came face to face with a Terran, who looked unhappy.

"I assume you have a reason for messing with my instruments, stalker?"

Joa let out an annoyed grunt. "My orders come from the Fleetlord. I was sending my scheduled report. Do not try and check the logs, I have erased any trace of it."

The Terran shook his head. "Just get off my ship." After a second of silence, he looked around and muttered under his breath.

Joa's voice in his ear made him jump. "That will be in my next report." then Joa was gone again, to track down the Empress.

=======

On the bridge of the Atlantia, Im sat in the center chair with Argo at his side. As he did so, Io's voice floated down. "The requested status report is waiting, Commander."

"Thank you Io." Im quickly glanced at the report on his pad. Joa had been discovered by the Empress and she seemed pleased by his gift. Also enclosed were several key features of and holes in the Atlantean security systems. He closed the file and looked up as the comm system beeped.

"Incoming transmission for you. From Admiral Koth."

"On screen." A pause as the Admiral appeared. Im leaned forward and his whole demeanor would remind Koth of some sort of bird of prey. "Hello, Admiral... I assume this is about the little incident that happened earlier today?"

OOC: sorry for not posting sooner. I was going to yesterday (and today), but the snowstorm's been messing with the net connection.

IC:

"Fascinating”

Atlantia made a small chuckle as she sat in one of the station’s medlabs, watching Tanis moving around the room, taking note of everything. “Yeah. I really didn’t see that coming. A dragon, of all things. And a smart one too. Genetic engineering, you think? Or some sort of dragon species from another world?”

“Wha..?” Rathma seemingly came out of his trance. He had been sitting at his desk, looking though a telescope. He was an older man, in what would look to be his fifties or so, his hair balding, with the rest of it thinned. Not very high in stature, he only stood about five feet tall. Indeed, he gave the impression of someone who was possibly quite mad. “Oh, no, no not the dragon. We can pick those up from some elf country”

Tanis turned from the computer console he had been looking over, and seemed to give the doctor a particularly nasty look. The doctor seemed oblivious as he continued his eccentric speech. “No, I mean this implant you were given. It’s a magnificent piece of equipment. I do wonder how they made it…” his voice trailed off as he put it up to the light, staring as though he were drugged. Several seconds passed, with the occasional moan from Rathma.

“Doctor!” Atlantia called to him, apparently snapping him out of another trance. “Can you do it or not?”

Rathma put the device back down, but continued to stare at it. “I uh…I…think I need a team for this. To reverse engineer one. And don’t…don’t worry. I’ll only recruit those I can trust. Give me a week or two”

***

Outwardly, Admiral Koth didn’t seem phased by Im’s hawk-like expression. Inwardly, however, Koth was becoming *increasingly* nervous and paranoid. What did this man have planned? How could he counteract Im’s plan?

The admiral sat back in his seat, giving the appearance of calmness and complicity. Very relaxing…but only a superficial level, as below the emotions churned faster and faster. But Koth put on his poker face.

“Yes, indeed. I understand one of your ships…” he paused as he considered the right wording. It couldn’t be outright hostile, but he had to shift the blame to Im and *keep* it that way. “…collided with one of ours during the decent process? Is that correct?”

Eh…not as strong as he would have wanted. But it would do for now.

***

Sid looked out the viewscreen of the bridge towards the large brown dwarf they had jumped in near. Apparently the long-range scans hadn’t detected this *fifth* stellar member, in orbit around the red dwarf star as the othermost planet of the sub-system. Indeed, it hosted its own flotilla of moons and small planets.

“Open a channel to the fleet” Sid said, getting up out of his chair. “Ok, this is how we’re going to do things. We’re going to split up into teams and each will take up a sub-system. The Destiny, Rebirth, and Exodus will take Pardolis A. Salvation, Hope, and Vega will take B. Andromeda, Iris, and Defiant will take C. Eos, Bifrost, and Phoenix will take this system, D and apparently E. Once done with our scanning, we will return to this position and wait for everyone else to arrive. Understood? Good. Move out.”

Sid rattled off ship names at an amazing rate, so much so that his bridge crew looked at him as if he was possessed. But when you had been responsible for the command structure of most, if not all, of a fleet this small, one had a tendency to remember all of them at the drop of a hat. He didn’t wait for any confirmation from the other ships that they had received his orders, he didn’t need to. And besides, waiting for eleven other captains to say “Yes sir!” would get tedious quick. Real quick.

Sitting back down in his seat, Sid pointed forward, “Take us to Pardolis A. Follow the Rebirth and the Exodus!”

Joa was moving about the station unimpeded again. He loved this part of the job... the rush one got from walking down a corridor packed with people and not being seen? There was really nothing like it.

Quietly entering a small security monitoring room, he released broke open a gas capsule near the officer and watched her slip off into dreamland, none the wiser. He moved to the main control panel and started punching up cameras, taking a good look around. He had maybe three minutes before she revived. There was no evidence of foul play in her nap, though... so there was little doubt in his mind that unless she woke up early, he'd get away clean. He paused at the command center. "Interesting..." He muttered and studied the layout and took note of the conversation going on.

He moved to another set of camera feeds and toggled through them quickly, passing over a number of corridors and two storerooms that were under surveillance for some reason. Joa smirked when he noted that one was occupied by two Atlanteans who were definitely not taking inventory. Finally he switched to straight up accessing a list of low level security procedures. He memorized the list and then returned everything to the way it was... save for the camera of the two storeroom lovers. It would be interesting to see if anything happened to them.

=========

Im nodded. "Yes, I've read the reports... according to sensor data, the two ships were jockeying for the same landing spot at one of your planetside ports. Ours was using it's mass to push yours away and yours was using hard maneuvering to push ours away." He tilted his head again. "With the last maneuver, our ship didn't get pushed and the two impacted. Luckily the ship and cargo managed to make it to a landing spot nearby. The ship is currently undergoing emergency repairs there and should return to space within the next four hours."

He stood slowly. "Frankly, Admiral... I'm surprised that this hasn't been happening already. With so many ships going to so few landing spots, it was bound to cause tension. There are only two solutions I can see at the moment. Halt all your traffic and let us have full access to all ports to unload as fast as possible... or we shall half our own shipments to allow your own ships to operate in an easier fashion. Of course, this would mean doubling our amount of time here." Im knew neither solution would please the Admiral. Giving unrestricted access to the Union would probably unnerve him in some way or another and having the Union around for double the time first expected wouldn't make him jump for joy either.

As he finished the two suggestions, a Terran woman stepped up and spoke softly to him. He nodded and waved her off. "Yes, yes... of course Commander." He looks to the Admiral. "My commander has also reminded me that the crews of those lost scouts we picked up requested an audience with Atlantia. I believe they call themselves 'Templars'. Apparently they're quite far from home... and probably looking for a place to settle as home. Something I doubt you would be willing to allow in your current state of affairs."

Gideon returned to the lead Esper and jumped into his usual seat. A momentary thought and touch with his palm, and the smart-seat responded to his desire, transforming into what was for all intents and purposes a comfortable bed. Just a few minutes... Gideon thought as he leaned back and closed his eyes. A nap - that's what he needed. Nay deserved. He had, after all, been working the longest and hardest in the last few hours since chaos and tragedy struck. The other technicians could begin preparation and work without him, only later would they need his expert guidance.

As he drifted off to the dreamworld, a large sandwich filled his mind's eye. "Mmmm..." he moaned in his sleep, "Varoniiii." It was his favorite food, a delicatessen of the Templar core worlds. Unfortunately, the rare meat and ingredients had been found nowhere else in the galaxy and were not likely to. He had included three in the supply list he had handed over to the Terrans. They wouldn't have any, let alone know what they were, but Gideon couldn't help but trying, even if it were only a feeble joke. He had requested three: one for him to eat, one for him to save, and one to give to Daemon so that the hulking man wouldn't steal his as he inevitably did.

Minutes passed by, one after another, blending dreams into nothingness as Gideon recharged his metaphorical batteries. A short fifteen-minute nap had doubled to half an hour, then an hour, and then two hours. His eyes peeked open, adjusting to the ambient light as his computer of a mind began spinning, arms stretched out and mouth opened grabbing for oxygen. Ahead of him, blocking the tinted light that seeped in through the starglass windows, one of the technicians stood in the center of the cockpit fidgeting with a ceiling panel. "You arse," the man said semi-jokingly with a half-smile. Gideon glanced around him again before looking at his wrist-panel. The man beat him to it, "Two hours..."

-----

After watching the technicians start their repairs - mainly preparation at the moment - for fifteen minutes and the rest of the crew mill about, forming conversation groups and such, Armina decided to wander off through the ship of prophetic naming. She was sure it had to mean something, but that did not occupy her at the moment. Unconsciously, she followed the directions to the quartering area. Realizing where her body had taken her while her mind was distracted, she decided it best to follow suit and rest a little. The responsibility of her position and the decisions to be made in the future were weighing heavily on her already. She opted for a junior officer's room - a perk of being the ranking member of the team. Then again, had she not been the ranking officer, she would still have gotten her own room, as would the other three female members of the team. The guys might've enjoyed themselves more if the girls slept in the same crew barracks as them, but they understood their position, Armina had made sure of that. The four women would get junior officer's rooms and the rest of the men could either crash inside of them Espers not under immediate repairs or else take a nap in the standard crew quarters.

Armina nearly leapt onto the bed in her personal room and slid her hands behind her head as she stared out at nothing at all. She was tired, but the kind sleep could cure. It was an exhaustion that had overtook her, the kind that can only be cured by a fresh attitude or real world remedies to the problems they faced. So for many, many minutes she lay on her back with nothing really to do and only vague thoughts passing in and out of her open mind. It was a strange and sick helpless feeling that stuck in the back of her throat. She just couldn't do nothing. Her right hand slid from behind her head and stood floating midair, resting its elbow on the bedding. Above the wrist-panel that encompassed an extended area from the wrist down a few inches was a black, textured glove, which was missing any covering for just the fourth and fifth fingers. With just a wave of the hand, a screen appeared about two feet in front of her. Writing was appearing without any effort then disappearing again to be replaced by different words. To the right of the main pad area a list was accruing different items and below it several official bullet points appeared occasionally. It was all a part of another ingenious technology that the Templars had designed for personal use (*T-Suite) and that Armina couldn't even begin to fathom how it worked. It literally visualized the user's thoughts for them, creating a list of topics, important points, and links to relevant information in the database. All without any effort. She used in times like these in which her mind was overloaded and there was so much to think about.

[*T-Suite: The standard military operations suite of technologies. It is designed for maximum usage, reliability, and redundancy so that the user can use in whatever way is most comfortable. It includes (incomplete list): one wrist-panel, one temple-visor, one index-manipulator, and one philotic-connector.]

One theme kept reoccurring in her thoughts so often that eventually the computer flashed the sentiment on the screen for her in large red letters.

What Next?
When she saw the question and recognized that it was what was truly occupying her mind, a whole new flood of ideas began listing on the screen. Talk to the Empress. Learn, if anything to learn, about the Atlanteans. Their history, if relevant, is inextricably linked to our future.
Painful as it may be, we could become part of them. No! But it might be our only chance of survival - at least of any true future. Plus they could save the Templar race if Gideon finds something...
We could live amongst them in an enclave. Helping one another but remaining separate.
Settle on another planet once we restore ourselves. But what then? We could live out our days. We could try to restore our civilization but we need more people.
Genetically, I don't think we even have the ability to recreate what we once had. One way or another, something will have to give. Even if it be our pride...

The problem was that every thought she had, every idea about the future depended upon other future conditionals that she could not possibly have access to yet. Nothing could be deciphered or narrowed down until other knowledge became available. But still, she couldn't just lay there reviewing her own thoughts until Im came through or Gideon finished repairs. Either of those could take mindless, drumming hours.

Just as limberly as the commander had leapt onto the bed, she leapt up and off the comfortable padding. The door slid open at her nearness and she poked her head into the hall. Nobody, she thought, though she did not know why it even mattered. She stepped out into the hall and began trudging along the corridors aimlessly...

-----

Daemon, the most feared member of the expedition. His dress could scarce hide the sturdy and muscular frame that lay beneath. Unlike the others, this man didn't attempt to hide anything beneath his cloak, generally keeping it retracted. Ironic for the cloak and dagger lord that he was. Nonetheless, he was even more cunning in the art of stealth than the other cloaked Templars. Mind, body, and soul he was devoted to his art. That of an assassin, a spy, a saboteur... a killer. Tactics, weapon proficiency, non-armed combat, psychological warfare, technical competence, spying, hacking, and anything else of the same vein... he was the master Templar. And like his profession, his personality was one of reservation and secrecy. He rarely spoke, rarely showed any emotion, rarely cared. It was part of his nature to be the stoic soldier. While most feared him, few disliked him, though few knew him or interacted with him enough to get a sense of their own feelings towards him.

As usual, he was doing his own thing. The technicians were busy working, the executive officers were discussing strategy, the other grunts were talking or joking around, but he was not among them. A few moments after the conversation had begun with Free Unionists, Daemon had disappeared. He made no announcement of his leaving, though made no effort to hide it either. It mattered little whether people noticed him, followed him, paid attention to him, or not. He was walking the corridors - not afraid to bump shoulders, at that - without point. What his killer of a mind was thinking was anyone's guess.

For a moment, apparently having gone in circles and returned to the same point, Daemon found himself back in the landing bay where the technicians were continuing to work, the officers continuing to officiate, and the grunts were continuing to grunt. As he passed through the large bay to the next exit, his eyes caught EXO Godwin standing at the large glass space-windows. He was standing at ease staring off into space, seemingly swallowed up by the great, empty vastness. Daemon shrugged it off without ever really shrugging and then reentered an exit to continue his trudging...

Even when seemingly alone, the Templars were constantly being watched. Io was keeping tabs on them, as per standard security procedures. She even went so far as to seal security areas in advance of the wandering ones. Only the crew would be able to enter them and only then with access codes. So far this hadn't been an issue, but the AI wasn't about to make such a fundamental mistake.

Daemon's second trip from the bay would lead him into the path of two large panther-like security officers. The two Mesos eyed the human coming towards them. "Lost, sir?" one of them rumbled lowly.

=======

The Terran and Vares continued their work, moving bits of cargo around and performing maintenance on one of their own scout ships, though several were prodding the guests for information on the technology their ships use, though they didn't seem to be getting very far.

Technician Fisk returned to the bay, wheeling in a cart that held anything but tools. On it instead was a plethora of sandwiches. "I didn't have the ingredients to make a Varoni-Delicatessen, so I had the galley whip up something close." On the cart were clubs, cajun wraps, roast beef and a few equivalents to chicken. "You're close enough to Terran biology I'm guessing none of this is poisonous to you."

Sparks flew across the bridge as another volley of enemy fire came hurdling into the side of the Destiny’s hull, passing the shields and slamming into the metal hide of the ship. On the bridge, smoke loomed overhead as the darkened room brightened with red light every few seconds as the alarms went off.

“Two more coming about. The Rebirth and the Exodus are being pursued. We’re on our own!” Xol shouted, going over the layout of the present battle. When the ships had entered the Pardolis A subsystem, they had almost immediately been engaged by familiar hostile forces…hostile forces who used evil-looking death-black ships with spiky tendrils coming out in every direction like some Lovecraftian horror. At least eight Demon scoutships had been waiting for them. Luckily, they were *only* scoutships, and luckily, Sid’s fleet was designed to *fight* Demon ships.

“I hate Mondays” Sid muttered to himself, as he struggled to stay in his seat as another round of blasts shook the bridge.

“Rear shields at sixty percent. They’re still following us”

“Hard stop!” Sid ordered. He felt the inertia of the ship’s speed as it slowed down painfully fast. Almost enough to make one hurl. In fact, one did. At the science station. All over the floor. Sid sighed. “*that* is going to be a fun smell”

The two demon ships trailing the Destiny flew past it on the main screen.

“FIRE!” shouted Sid. Immediately, the Destiny opened fire with everything it had. Well, everything that wasn’t an experimental weapon and was purposely offlined. The Demon ship on the right ripped apart as the photonic hull gave way under pure kinetic stress, and spiraled out of control into the other scoutship, just in time for the Destiny’s beam cannon to fire at both of them—resulting in a large explosion. When it died down, there was little debris.

“I thought Im’s forces cleared the galaxy of most of these guys!” Sing said, before coughing from the smoke.

“Remind me to file a complaint with command” Sid replied in a deadpan voice, “Now take us in. We still got to help the Rebirth and the Exodus!” he looked behind him. “And someone get a mop”

***

Koth rubbed his temples, now visibly annoyed, concerned, flustered, and just not-very-good at Im’s game of manipulation. This had quickly completely spiraled out of his control. Im was virtually running the game now, and Koth was the puppet, with an imaginary sense of power. And he was so *diplomatic* about it. That was what infuriated Koth even more. This was all a game to him, wasn’t it?

However, Koth’s reply to that would have to wait. Im had just thrown *another* scenario into the fray. Atlantia again. And the ‘Templars’. Too many variables…

…no, actually. He could make this work, possibly. If he could just keep Atlantia occupied, while getting Im out as quickly as possible, he could possibly get through this. It was a huge gamble, but worth it. The key was to keep Atlantia and Im apart. After all, if he tried something in the docking ports, Koth could just order his vessels blown out of the sky. But if it involved Atlantia, things would be more complicated.

“Fine” Koth said though his teeth, after a moment. “We will halt our shipping lanes until you have completed your work. And I shall pass that message onto Atlantia, although I am sure she will have no problem with it. However, the…Templars, was it? They must know Atlantia has no formal connections with the provisional government here, and has no real say in the politics. As such, she cannot promise anything, such as a home”

***

*snort*

The security officer came back to the world of consciousness, and blinked after opening her eyes, suddenly coming to realization.

“Shit, how long was I out?!” she jolted up in her chair, going over the screens. Glancing at a clock, she sighed in relief. It had only been a couple minutes. She had only dozed off for a moment. Still a little jumpy at the fact that she had managed to fall asleep, she began diligently going over the camera screens. “Well, well. I’m only out three minutes, and already the place has gone to hades” she smirked, her eyes now locked onto what one could only describe as soft porn. Realizing this was her ticket to getting out of any possible trouble she could get into for sleeping (although, for just three minutes, it was unlikely), the officer began taking down a report.

Im nodded slowly. The shift in appearance the Admiral took on was just what Im expected. Keeping a political rival off balance was always a good thing. "Very well, Admiral. I will inform the colony ship of the change in traffic patterns and will increase the amount of traffic inbound. Also, I do wish to note that any future shipments will not be as obstructive as this one. All we would need to do is to keep your supply levels constant."

A pause. "As for the Templars, I doubt they want much. If you don't want them, I can always find some other civilization willing to take them in. There are plenty who are more capable." A subtle way of reminding the Admiral of his people's position, to deflate him a bit more.

=========

A small rip in space opened and closed in a matter of seconds near the Union ships. Sensors would show it was a probe and of the design the Union used for long distance message transport. It sent a flash coded message towards Im's ship and then self destructed. Another common feature.

=========

Io's voice uninterrupted the talk between the two officers. Commander, we have received new orders from Union Command. The fleet is to deploy and search a wide variety of systems suitable for Atlantean colonies and you have been designated the official liaison to the Atlantean government, as you have more experience with them than any other candidate. The Atlantia is to deploy along with the fleet, though. Your temporary flagship is left to your discretion.

Im nodded. "Thank you, Io..." he smirks just a tad. "Well, Admiral... it seems I'll be staying on with you for a time." He looks up towards the ceiling. "Io, contact the Archangel and inform them of the orders and that they are to report to Sol within 20 hours. The resupply should end in 28 hours, by my estimation."

"Yes, commander."

Im leaned back in his chair and looked back at the screen, as if surprised to see the Admiral still on it. He wasn't, of course. "Is... there anything else I can do for you, Admiral?"

The admiral's left eye visibly twitched. Not horribly visible, mind you, but enough that Im would be able to pick up on the fact that Koth's mind had apparently just blown a gasket.

That...was great. Just peachy. Wonderful. The entire plan, up in smoke, AND Koth had just lost ground. Son of a BITCH.

"No, *Fleetlord*" he replied, emphasizing the last word in thinly veiled hate. "I believe that will be all. I have...other matters to attend to"

Koth pressed the 'end transmission' button, and sat back in his seat for a moment. Afterwards, he sat back up and opened another channel. "Commander, block any an all messages for me for the next two hours. I'm taking some me time"

"Erm...as you wish, sir"

"Also, inform Atlantia she will be receiving a message from...the 'Templars' sometime in the future. But remind her she has no standing political power"

"Yes sir"

"And...inform our people that further shipments to Selene are restricted until the Union ships are finished"

"...Sir?"

"I'll...explain later"

"Yes, sir"

Killing that transmission as well, Koth crouched over and unlocked a drawer of his desk, taking out a bottle of Elarian Ale. "I have a splitting headache..."

***

"I have a splitting headache..."

Sid's fingers tapped at his chair's arm, as his other fist was placed under his cheek, keeping his head up. A large gash was on the right side of his forehead, apparently from the recent battle. He was in a *very* unhappy mood.

One of the two doctors going over the bridge came up to him with a tricorder, and began going over his face. Annoyed, Sid brushed him away. "Get that thing out of my face!"

"But...sir...you have an injury" the doctor countered, hesitant.

Sid glared at him. "And if you don't stop waving that mechanical medical penis in my face, I swear to the gods, *you* will have an injury"

"Erm...yes sir" the young doctor replied, backing away.

Sid growled impatiently. "Status report"

"We suffered moderate damage, but we're in one piece. The Rebirth and the Destiny suffered similarly. They've resumed scouting duties, however"

"Good" Sid replied, "Do likewise. And alert the other ships of possible Demon activity in their area. We don't want anyone else caught with their pants down"

Daemon, for all his appearance and mindset, was actually a rather intelligent man. In response to the panther-esque, security grunts blocking his way, he could not decide how to respond: You could say that, lightly referring to their present existence millennia of light-years from home or, It's hard to be lost when you have no expectation of knowing where you are. Instead, he voiced a simple "Grunt", causing himself to chuckle on the inside.

-----

As Gideon climbed from the Esper to inspect the progress that taken place during his refreshing nap, he noticed the foreign engineer approaching with a cart of sandwiches. Impressive, Gideon thought as he picked one of them up and sniffed the length of it, Nothing like a Varoni, but at least they figured out it was a sandwich. With a tinge of interest, curiosity, and doubt, the techie mumbled inaudibly under his breath. "I wonder how..."

"Oh, well good thing guessing as never done anyone any harm," Gideon said loudly in a sarcastic tone as he rolled his eyes and took a bit of the sandwich. He, who was always sure of himself yet often had used the dubious "I think" or "I guess" terms, was casting some doubt on the safety of the food and yet he ate it anyway. Such was the life of a Templar. They had developed little morsels of food - pebbles really - that contained unique tastes and all of the necessary dietary supplements (vitamins, carbs, protein, fat, etc.), and yet they preferred real food for some reason. They had thousands of pebbles left on each Esper, enough to hold over the entire crew for another decade, they would allow them to survive just fine, and they had very delicious tastes... but for whatever psychological reason, most of them would rather eat a real steak than ingest a pebble of food.

"Allwight..." Gideon said, talking out one side of his mouth as he chewed the sandwich with the other. "Let's begin wiring repairs..."


[OOC: Not much I can do plot-wise until meeting the Atlanteans and creating the next twist.]

[gonna jump to the end of the resupply here. About 20 hours.]

Im stood on the bridge and smiled as he watched the many cargo ships depart and return. Only a few hours remained of the supply runs. Now it was up to the Atlantiens to distribute the supplies. He already had his gear packed and ready to go to the Archangel.

Striding into his office, he took a seat at the desk and hailed Atlantia's personal communicator. Information he should not have, really. Joa had done his job well.

"Atlantia, the supplies are nearly completely transfered. I am unsure if Koth informed you or not, but I am staying on with you as Union Envoy. The Archangel is on her way and it will serve as the Union presence here." The gunship would prove a formidable obstacle for an attack, that was for sure. "The stray scoutships we rescued are also something that you should take note of. The leader of the 'Templars' has asked me for a meeting with you. I believe they are victims of the Demons... but they are not from this galaxy. I would also like to attend any such meeting you see fit to host, so that any information in the Union databases may be accessed to assist in clarifying whether or not their Demons are the same as our own."

As Im spoke, he watched a rip in space form and the Archangel emerge. "Also, the Templars will need to be relocated to the Archangel, or to Hope Station. The Atlantia will be leaving to join the fleet as soon as the resupply is complete."

=====

Two of the ships from the fleet emerged inside a system that immediately showed signs of habitable worlds... namely the small M-class moon floating around a Saturn like planet. That and the pirate ships in orbit.

At the sight of Union heavy cruisers, the pirates prepared for battle. The lead pirate sent a warning to leave the system or face destruction.

The cruisers slowly made their way closer, despite being outnumbered four to one. When they had closed half the distance, they stopped dead and finally answered. Your nuclear minefield has a flaw in it's cloaking technology. Not that the mines would do much good anyway.

It took seven volleys and the minefield started to detonate. It was an insanely bright flash or light and radiation and when it faded, two of the pirates were fleeing. The rest stayed in place and waited for the cruisers to advance.

Eventually, after about another four hours of looking over his underlings' shoulders, Gideon actually did get to work. About ten hours ago they had begun working on the Espers in shifts so as not to collapse from exhaustion. Gideon, despite his fondness of rest, decided to continue on through the shifts to work on his much-prized Esper-One. Even a couple hours ago when the next shift had begun, the head technician continued laboring onwards in hopes of bringing the ship up to battle fitness.

After almost an hour had passed since they had begun working on the ships, progress was steady but slow... as predicted. It wasn't going quite as well as they had hoped, but they were now hopeful that the ships could be fully repaired. At least half within the week and a couple extra days for the remaining four or so. It was only then, after they had no more busy work to do, that they would begin feeling the true weight of their situation, essentially alone and aimless in a foreign environment.

A beeping noise brought Gideon out of his hyper-concentrated state, trying to stare down a control panel located behind the engine that had decided it was going to be difficult. Falling back from his crouching position onto his bottom, he felt his hamstrings relax and begin to dissipate the lactic acid that had built up over the hours. Sigh... "Twenty-four hours of work and the damn engines still won't boost," he said to himself. They ignited, but were incapable of reaching the next level of power that gave the ship any sign of true speed. Almost involuntarily, Gideon lay down on his side and quickly drifted off to sleep the moment his head touched the metal floor.

-----

For over twenty hours Godwin had not left the giant viewing window that constituted one wall of the docking bay. He too had worked tirelessly, though not in the same facet as the engineers that used their laser tools some fifty feet behind him. He held a duraplex sheet up to the window, aligning it with various stars and comparing it to his wrist-panel. "Mapping," he had said when asked what he was doing some thirty times. Taking readings of the local galaxy and trying to decipher where they were. It wasn't apparent that any of the 'people' here knew of the Templar home nor vice versa. He was just trying to learn something, anything, whether it helped them figure out how to get home or not.

His hand dropped from the window, as he thought about it: Home. What are we without a home? Survivors? Aliens? The last of our kind? What will we do? Resettle? Interpopulate? Become mercenaries? At one point or another, as the Templars paused from their various tasks aboard the Olympia, the same questions rattled through their minds, unanswered - unanswerable.

-----

Eventually after wandering the ship's corridors and seeing the same sight after sight, Armina had returned to her room and managed to fall asleep. But then sleep had passed, giving way to waking and once gain she had little too and was all the more anxious because of it. Finally, after an hour or so of wandering since her waking, she found a small cafeteria with a few people milling about. Taking a cup of coffee from the bar, she found an empty table to sit at and dropped into the chair. For some reason, while coffee was supposed to give you more energy, Armina always found that it helped her calm her anxiety-induced jitters. It was warm and soothing as she sipped away at the metal cup of Joe.

Im, after leaving his message with Atlantia, strode off the bridge and rode a lift down to the docking bay. He was sure that the Templars would have seen the Archangel arrive and the gunship was sure to cause a couple questions.

That was the least of Im's worries at the moment though...

Striding up to one of the crews, he quietly asked one to bring Commander Armina to him and walked to the immense humming forcefield that allowed a view of space, the resupply effort, the Archangel and part of Hope Station. As the Commander approached he spoke softly. "Commander, I am in a slightly difficult position. I have been ordered to remain here at Hope Station as an envoy to the Atlanteans. I have more experience with them than any Union commander, you see. Unfortunately, I am the only member of this ship's crew that is staying. The Atlantia will be deploying with the fleet to scour the galaxy for usable sites for an Atlantean colony planet, in addition to weeding out whatever Demons they discover. Normally, this would prove no large issue... the Archangel," he motions to the gunship that was floating in the distance, "was under my command for nearly four years and I trained her crew personally." He looks at the Commander. "The problem is that the deadline for deployment is approximately eight hours from now. And that means your Espers will have to be moved. I cannot guarantee that the Atlanteans will take you in right away, so this will mean you will be transfered to the Archangel... And you will lose all the comforts the Union can provide. The gunship is a weapon designed by the Olympeans almost 3000 years ago and was constructed 2800 years ago. It is ancient, filthy, dark and it's systems are your technicians' worst nightmares times fifty. Mostly because the ship is outfitted with ten layers of shields and more weapons than most fleets. Two of the engine pods are slaved solely to weapons and shields, to handle the power drain. The crew is all Terran and are so independent, they are considered the 'pirates' of the Union fleet. In other words, I would suggest that when you make your case to the Atlanteans that you make the pitch a fine one, that allows you use of their docking facilities."

Quite a little speech there... and delivered with a hint of genuine concern. the Templars did not need to be transferred from a modern ship of the line to a relic of two millennia past that was held together primarily by the force of will and ingenuity of it's crew. The Atlanteans would be a much better choice.

"We ran into a small hornet's nest of Demon ships, but otherwise we're fine. No ships lost, luckily. We only faced off against a couple scoutships, but I think we've pretty much proved the usefulness of these ships. If we had managed to get a fleet or two of them *before* the war, we wouldn't be in the position we're in now"

Atlantia, back in her quarters, sat in her chair as Sid's replay came through her personal wrist communicator. Tanis was currently taking a nap on her bed, the communication device still being toyed with by Rathma a couple decks down. Only a handful of people knew the direct transmission code for her communication device, one of those being the current de-facto fleet commander, Sid. "We can't dwell on 'could've should'ves'" she replied, "Otherwise we won't get anything done. ...What's the status of the system you're in?"

Sid seemed to sigh, "Bad. It looks as if this system actually housed a number of habitable planets; at least 2 class M's, a class O, a bunch of P's, H's, and N's. Would have been perfect with the abundance of natural resources from the multiple Gas Giant and moons in-system...but the Demons got here first. Nothin's left. Everything's been reduced to L class or worse. We'd need a shitload of terraforming gear just to *begin* to reconstruct some of the ecosystems"

Atlantia rubbed the bridge of her nose in a small fit of frustration. They were running out of time to find a habitable world to settle on. "And we don't have those kinds of resources. Not at the moment"

"Right. And even at the hight of our power, that still would have been a multi-trillion credit investment. That's why we never really attempted it."

"So...are you guys heading back now?" asked Atlantia.

"Nah, we're not throwing in the towel yet. We still got several more sites to check out. ...Oh, and this is something you'll find interesting: We detected a faint warp trail leaving this system some time ago. The trail's almost completely decayed, but we managed to pick up on the type: it's Atlantean"

The empress's left eyebrow arched in peaked interest. "More survivors?"

"We're not getting any hopes up, but we're going to chase after it. There's no reason that we can't assume some more of the escape fleets at least partially survived. My guess is they entered this system and were either followed by the Demon scout fleet we encountered, or fled when they realized this system was already occupied"

"Not very good odds"

"No...which is why I said not to get your hopes up. The trail is at least a week old, aimed in the direction of a nearby red dwarf star. I doubt there's any habitable planets there, but we can at least find out if we have some more survivors"

"Be careful"

"Oh, don't worry. These new Destiny class vessels are...magnificent. We can go toe-to-toe with the Demon scouts and win. I don't know if we can hold up with the bigger ones if we encounter them, but...we need to resume construction of these ships as soon as possible. Scrap the older ship designs, just build *these*. We'd of course need newer Heavy Cruiser, Destroyer, and Carrier designs to compliment these Light Cruisers, but--"

"Slow down, slow down" Atlantia laughed good-naturedly, "I'm not in charge of that, remember? You'll have to add it in with your formal report to the Admiral"

"Oh. Yay. Koth. And while I'm at it, I might as well ask for the new fleet as a birthday present from daddy. Gods know he owes me for the past decade"

The empress rolled her eyes in annoyance, even though Sid couldn't see it. "Sid, look. I'm not a huge fan of the Admiral either. But he *is* your superior"

"Superior? Hah, only on a technicality. If I were him, I'd--"

Cutting him off, Atlantia spoke up, "...Sid? Look, this is *fascinating*, going through your personal issues with your father over a long-range subspace channel, but I have a message on the other line that I *do* need to take care of, so..."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. I'll talk to you later"

A beeping sound indicated that the channel had closed, and the empress rubbed her nose bridge again, as she played the message waiting from her.

"Im?" she asked herself, "I don't remember giving him my contact infor--oh, of course. Duh" she muttered, realizing Joa's probable involvement. As the message played, she recalled something about a message coming in regarding a people known as the "Templars" wishing to contact her, but she hadn't been informed any further on the matter, as if Koth's people were only most reluctantly keeping her anywhere near the loop. It was frustrating, being forced into being a fifth wheel where she could tell she wasn't trusted on any level, and indeed, almost expendable. It was a blessing, at least, that Im was sticking around for awhile. Without Sid and his crew, she was at a disadvantage.

However, she found the demon aspect of the message *very* interesting. Outside of the galaxy? Certainly, the Demons had come from the globular clusters just outside the Milky Way...but was it possible they had attained some form of inter-galactic empire? Or was there more to the story then what she already knew? She found the last prospect less probable, as the current story was airtight.

...of course, so was the story she was telling the public.

Once the message was finished, she began to make a reply.

"Im. I hate to be blunt, but you know I can't promise anything with the Templars. Koth's not exactly being lenient with my...'interventions'. I would however, by very interested in having a meeting, probably with Koth as well so there is some...political grounding in the discussion" she seemed to struggle to add Koth and 'political grounding' in, probably due to her increasing irrelevancy. "We can discuss the Templar's fate in that meeting too. And in my eyes, the sooner the better"

She ended the message there, and waited for him to respond, hopefully in a full discussion rather then an extended game of phone tag.

[OOC: Sorry about not posting, I've been dealing with RL stuff, but now I'm back and ready to continue this story.]

After one of the EXOs had retrieved Armina from the ship's cafeteria area, she joined the alien Im and Godwin at the massive forcefield that allowed a magnificent view of the emptiness of space. As she took in the situation that Im presented, she realized that it was an annoying interlude, but easily surmountable, especially considering recent events.

"Lieutenant," the Commander said, turning to her EXO who was doing his own analysis of the situation, "Go update Gideon on the situation. Tell him that I want all ten Espers to have their sublight engines operational within four hours. Whatever he has to do, just have them stop all of their other work and get to fixin' those drives. All we need is minimal propulsion and navigation. One way or another we're going to have to make a little trip..."

As Godwin saluted and then proceeded to hurry over to where Gideon was working on the underside of Esper-1, Armina turned back to the Fleetlord. "Seeing as we obviously haven't finished our repairs yet, we're either going to need the same set of supplies at our new dock, wherever that may be. So I propose either that we get on the horn and see if they can gather up the supplies on the Archangel or in the Atlanteans' base or, perhaps easier and more efficient, we load up all the supplies here onto a transport and ship them over with us when we depart. If that's not too much trouble that is. Other than that, I would say that getting a meeting with the Atlanteans, however brief, would be quite useful right about now..."

Having just received Godwin's update, Gideon came walking over to the pair with his grease stained undershirt and hands. He was desperately attempting to wipe the grease off, not that it would have done much good considering he was just going to go back to work in a moment. "Hey," he said, nearly interrupting Armina. "I've already got four sublight engines online and I've reordered the work schedule to have four more ready by the deadline, but the other two just aren't doable. We have to rebuild part of the engine from scratch and fabricating with that type of delicacy is going to take a few days..."

"So...?" Armina prodded, waiting for the end of the sentence that didn't come.

"So, we're going to have to tow two, unless of course you want to just leave our wealth of knowledge and technology here for them to scavenge," Gideon replied, not caring that Im was standing right there. "Huh... that's funny. Tow two... tow two... to tow two..."

"Gideon!"

"Right, right. So we're going to need to tow two of the Espers. We'll use the tow cables from Esper-1 and Esper-4. Now, the only problem is that the inertial dampeners are obviously connected to the engine drives for efficiency's sake. Of course they don't need to be that way, but when we were designing them they said they wanted efficiency, so I gave them efficiency. In retrospect, minor oversight, I'd say. So basically, anyone who rides in those two tin cans will probably be smashed three-ways back to Saturday. Hell of a mess to clean up too." Catching sight of Armina's piercing gaze that told him to cut the quips and get back to the point, he continued back onto the path of discussion. "That means we have ten people out their seats. We can, however, fit an extra person in each Esper if we squish them in, but safety is obviously the concern, and I definitely wouldn't add tow to a ship... err, two, that is."

"Which means?"

"Which means I can do math and you apparently cannot." Ooh, the stare again. "That means even if we fit an extra person in each operational Esper, two people will need to hitch a ride elsewhere... unless you want to stand two guys here. And... and if you do, I would be totally be for it, I'd even volunteer to draw up a list of names of-"

"Stow it. And get back to work before I build a brig and have your ass thrown in it," Armina threatened, to which Gideon saluted sardonically and then left, pronto.

"So there we have it, Fleetlord," the Commander said before turning back to Im. "We have two pilots in need of a lift and few racks of cargo in need of a lifter. Think we can kill two banshees with one photon missile. Maybe you could wrastle up a small cargo ship..."

"Fleetlord," she said as she saluted the alien and prepared to dismiss herself. "I think you for the information." She walked twenty paces and then turned on her heels back to Im. "Oh, and that meeting..."

Im listened quietly, as did several of his crew who were in earshot. He simply nodded to them and they jogged across the cavernous bay to a closed storage hanger. Within moments, a scoutship was being rolled out. It looked to have a large cargo compartment, as well as room for many passengers.

Im looked back. "This is a flagship. If we don't have something, it probably doesn't exist." He turned towards the open view of space. "I can have several crates of supplies and Union tools provided to you, since you are already familiar with them. Atlantia is no longer an official leader, but she holds a sway that not many others can."

A beeping of his comm unit told him what he wanted to see. He eyed the information relayed on it. "Good. Atlantia is willing to speak with you. The sooner the better, I think. We can leave immediately, if you so desire."

"Atlantia is willing to speak with you. The sooner the better, I think. We can leave immediately, if you so desire."

"Yes, immediately would be best I think," Armina responded quickly and without doubt. "No need to put off what must be and is desired to be done. Allow me just a moment and we shall depart..."

Turning around from Im to face her crew, she walked between two of the Espers and disappeared from sight. Only a moment later, she had Gideon at her back scrambling to wipe himself clean from the grease of his work. Though he despised aliens, fearing and hating them irrationally and at the same time, with the prospect of meeting a living Atlantean from lore, he was as giddy as a child. And then the next moment a second man joined her. He was of average Templar height with a strong and sturdy build, dashingly handsome and had silky-smooth, brown hair. He, like Gideon, had removed his shirt, leaving his white undershirt exposed and stained with black smudges. His well-defined muscles bulged out as he, not bothering to clean himself up much, tossed a rag to the side and strode confidently forward.

"Ready," Armina said with a smart salute and the two men at her back.

[OOC: Go ahead and do what you need to get them to the meeting.]

OOC: I’m gonna go ahead and time-skip here if that’s alright with everyone.

IC:

“The sooner the better” the ex-empress grimaced to herself, as she took another sip from her cup, “Yes. Like immediately” she put the cup back down on the table. “I really should have specified…”

Atlantia sighed, not really too sure what to expect from this meeting, and a little on edge from the fact that she hadn’t really had any time to prepare. She sat alone on the end of the table in one of the many conference lounges of Hope Station, most of which looked the same. The long rectangular table sat in the middle of the room, flanked by seats on all sides, while a bunch of computer panels sat on the walls on each far end. The wall to the right consisted of a large window, where one could see the vastness of space...and not much else. To her left however, was something unusual. A large screen, for presentations. Most conference lounges had a holographic generator in the center of the table (and this one did indeed have that too) or the inhabitents had to use one of the small computer screens on the walls or the ones that would appear in front of them, out of the table. She mused to herself that she'd like to see normal large screens like these put on other lounges, as she disliked the holographic generators for things like maps. So despite the fact that she knew full well she had never been in this particular room before, she still had a somewhat calming sense of familiarity to it. Probably because despite not actually being a government leader anymore, she still found herself regularly in meetings of some sort. No wonder Koth was beginning to get annoyed with her.

Koth…he wasn’t even giving her the time of day anymore. The occasional pain-in-the-ass admiral had become a full blown antagonist to Atlantia in all but title. When she had tried to tell him about the meeting, she had been forced to go through normal bureaucratic channels…which, as one could imagine, got her nowhere fast. Then she had attempted to hunt him down herself, and even then it had taken a ton of effort just to get him to pay attention to her as he pretended to be swamped with busy work and appointments (which, to be fair, he probably was, but still). And in the end, after all that, he had promised nothing, only saying he would ‘try and get in when he could’.

Ass. He could have at least sent a subordinate. It seemed this was his new tactic—rather then try to drive Im or her off, he would simply ignore them, knowing full well that she herself didn’t have any sort of muscle to do anything. And in the end, that was why he had sent off the Destiny fleet, hadn’t it? To isolate her from the wing of the military that *did* support her.

Further, his rampant idea that she was a broken mind had spread like wildfire through what was left of the government. Not that it was totally unfounded, she was to an extent. But the fact that they were treating her like some mental patient was beginning to infuriate her. These people had looked up to her! Now she was little more then a senile crazy person.

“Asshole” she whispered to herself, as she downed the last of the drink in the cup, and sent it flying into the recycler below the table. Another moment passed as she continued to seethe in anger, until she slammed her fist on the desk in frustration.

…Then a darker thought slipped into her consciousness. What was any of this for? She could almost feel the memory of herself hurling the small medallion of Athena’s owl at the glass inside the quarters on the Trident. The crushing hopelessness and despair…

“Atlantia, your guests have arrived”

The female voice over the comm knocked Atlantia out of her train of thought, as a fresh wave of anxiety washed over her. However, she was actually glad for that, as she could worry about…other things now. She had long known that absent-minded trains of thought like that only sent her places she never wanted to go. “Send them in” she said, in a formal tone.

Im strides into the room and eyes it for a moment. Only Atlantia. He gestured for the Templars to take a seat and keyed his comm. "Admiral, this is Im Kmmta. Perhaps you would like to join us." The message was sent directly to the Admiral's personal comm unit. Something Im should not have been able to do. Well, this was going to make him paranoid. "Though if you feel that Atlantia can handle these negotiations alone, I must assume that she has full administrative powers again. I will relay this wonderful news to my superiors immediately." If he came, he'd be caving to Im. If he refused, the Union would assume Atlantia was Empress again and would only deal with Atlantis through her. Either way, Koth would lose. He clicked the unit off. As he sits, he smirks. "I give him five minutes. Six, if he wastes one screaming at some security officer for letting the Union breach your comm network so deeply."

He then leans back in the chair and looks at the Templars. "The man who will enter in a few minutes is Admiral Koth. He's an ass and is one of the Empress' political rivals. I'm actually enjoying twisting his arm. It just irks him so much that I have been running the show instead of him since I arrived." He shrugs and looks at Atlantia. "I can understand why he doesn't like me... but of all people he should understand the importance of alliances. His constant bucking of our assistance is growing tiresome. If I did not wish to give the Templars a chance to speak at this meeting, I would end this now and have you back in charge within the hour. That must wait for a short time though... to ensure that all parties get a chance to speak." He knew he was probably being monitored by the Atlantean security system and Koth would hear his words sooner or later. And the best part? The Admiral couldn't do a thing to stop him. Im held almost every card.

Atlantia blinked as Im issued his 'ultimatium', for lack of a better term, to Koth. It seemed as though the fleetlord was becoming far more agitated with the stubborn admiral then even herself, if that was indeed possible. However, she shook her head when Im began speaking of his ability to put her back in power.

"That wouldn't solve anything and you know it" Atlantia replied, "I'd just end up getting assasinated by one of the *several* groups out to get me. Or it'd plunge us into civil war. We can't do it by force"

She looked at the others who had just entered the room. Not waiting for Koth to appear (indeed, if he did come, this would be the only time she could get in decent heart-warming introductions out of the way), she stood up, and bowed slightly with just her head, not really sure which custom to use when greeting these people. "I am Em..er...citizen Atlantia, the former empress of the Imperial Federation of Atlantis. Welcome to Hope station. And you are...?"

***

"Do you have any threes?"

"Go fish"

With a low grumble, Xol reached his arm into the middle of the round table and picked up a card off the top of the deck. True to his luck in this game, it wasn't a card he needed. He grimaced as he saw he had twice as many cards as anyone else at the table, and far fewer then anyone else's pairs on the table.

"Why are we playing this game again?" he asked bitterly.

"We got bored of poker, and this is the only other game anyone knows" Xolin said, sitting to the left of him. She didn't look at him though, but simply studied the cards in her hand. To his right, Sid put down two of his own cards on the table, indicating a pair. He grinned devilishly as he glanced over at Xol.

"What's the matter? Tired of losing?"

Xol grumbled again, and was about to retort, when he was cut off by Trok, who's turn was now up, and was currently perusing through his cards, one of which he had just gotten from Sing, sitting to his right. "You know what game I'd like to see played with a group of people? Solitaire" He placed his new pair on the table, as everyone's eyes stared at him with mixed looks of confusion, amusement, and incredulousness.

"...What?" he asked.

Realizing she was up, Sing went back to looking at her own cards. "That's not...really possible" she said, and then looked at Sid, across from her. "Got any sixes?"

"Go fish"

"How is it that you've never had one card anyone's been looking for the entire game?" asked Xol, with an arched eyebrow.

Sid shrugged, his vision focused on his cards. A smirk formed on his lips. "Just lucky, I guess" This got a couple of glances from the others (except Trok), but they said nothing.

"Are you sure there's no way to play Solitaire with other people?" Trok asked, having been staring blankly at the table.

Xol replied with a hint of irritation in his voice. "It's called 'Solitaire'. As in 'solitary'. As in 'alone'"

"Actually, I think there *is* a type of multi-player Solitaire, now that I think about it" Xolin said, now reaching over to the deck to take a card.

"That's stupid" Sid replied, "In that case, it's no longer Solitaire"

As Xolin gimaced at her own growing collection of cards, Xol noticed his own turn had come up again. He looked at Xolin. "Got any 3's?"

She handed him the card she had just picked up out of the library, and he gleefully put down a new pair on the table.

"I wonder who came up with Solitaire anyway" Sing muttered, as Sid played his hand, taking a card from Trok, a 4.

"Man, we must *really* be bored if we're talking about a card game while playing another" Xolin giggled to herself.

As Sing played her turn, Trok looked at Xolin, "Well, ok, how about this? Another thing that's been bothering me: Why has no one created apple soda?"

"...Excuse me?" Sid asked, in a short laugh at just how fast the conversation had changed.

Trok clarified, "Apple soda. I mean, carbonated apple drink. I mean, we get all kinds of other flavors, like orange, grape, strawberry, cherry...but I've NEVER seen an apple flavored soda"

Sid blinked, taken aback. "...You're right. There isn't any"

A wave of silent realization washed over the table, as no one seemed to know what to say next. However, much to Sid's relief, a beep from his personal communicator ended the uncomfortable silence. "Sid here" he replied, speaking into the wrist device, "We're not at our destination yet, are we?"

"Sid, this is Lakin, down in sickbay. You might want to get down here immediatly."

A puzzled expression formed on Sid's face, "Why?"

"He's awake"

Everyone's eyes widened. Sid's immediely shrank, and narrowed, "I'll be right there. Don't let him escape"

With that, Sid closed the link and stood up. "I fold. The rest of you keep playing" He then turned and left the mess hall. The warm charming 'bit of an asshole' captain had just been replaced by a cold vengeance-driven man disconnected to reality. And it scared the crew.

***

"Sid"

The captain of the Destiny cocked his head to his side as he continued his brisk pace down the hallway of the ship. From behind him, Xolin caught up to him, taking a couple gasps of breath from her short sprint. "Why are you coming?" he asked, turning his head back to his front.

"They were my friends too, Sid. And I know if you don't have someone there, you might do something you'll regret"

"I'm surprised you don't trust me like that, Xolin" Sid replied, then added in a darker tone, "I *never* do what I'll regret"

With that, he came up to the door to sickbay, and waited impatiently for it to open. Once it did, he very nearly sprinted inside, Xolin behind him, trying to catch up. Immedietly spotting them, Lakin moved over to his two crewmembers, and led them back to where he was--in an isolated chamber, normally used for decontamination.

Lakin hesitated as he began pressing buttons to unlock the room. "He...is not the person you knew. I tried to remove as many of the implants as possible, but Demon technology is far too advanced for what little I have to work with. Or my degree"

"Just open it" Sid replied, coldly. Not wanting to get on the captain's badside, Lakin simply nodded, and proceeded to open the door.

The room inside was barren, except for two small cots on either side of the room. On the one to their left sat a figure. A fellow Atlantian, a little older then Sid or Xolin, and dangeriously thin from a lack of food and exercise. He looked up at the three who had just unlocked his chamber, and smiled with an expression one could only discribe as 'insane'.

Sid merely glared at the figure, as his hand subconciously reached for his pistol. "Hello, Seth. Long time, no see"

Armina and the two men following a pace behind her, Gideon and Kent, bowed slightly in response to Atlantia, though more from the waist than just a simple nod of the head. It was one of the Templars' numerous gestures of greeting and one that generally showed a good deal of respect, often used with mentors and diplomats.

"Thank you very much Empress. It is a pleasure," Armina replied, using Atlantia's former title despite having been briefed about the political situation of the Atlanteans. An empress was still an empress in her mind, whether one had abdicated the throne or not. "I am Commander Armina, leader of the Templar survivors, and these two," indicating the men behind her who took a stop forward in response, "are Gideon and Kent. Gideon is our chief technician, engineer, scientist, and pretty much anything else specialized. Kent is one of my most trusted crewmembers. You'll have to forgive their shoddy attire," she said with a grimace at their smudged and stained undershirts, "they've been busy working on our ships. Shall we get into it then," she added, not waiting for this 'Koth'.

With the light introductions out of the way, Armina and her two associates took their seats at the table near where the Empress had been sitting. Once seated, Armina continued, "I'd hope you had been briefed on our situation, but with things being what they are, I figure I may as well explain everything ourselves. Gideon..."

"Ah yes... so it all began some eighty-thousand years ago..." Doing his best to summarize, cut through the needless details, and not reveal more than they were willing, Gideon gave a brief overview of their history up until the moment in which they were speaking. In the end, it was a very narrow view of their history, taking only about three or so minutes. He spoke of the ancient beings known as Atlanteans that were purported to have inhabited the Templar Worlds before the rise of the Empire. He spoke of the Demons and their unstoppable march through the galaxy. And then he spent most of the time speaking of the last two days' events from the destruction Hope's Whisper until they came to speak with her.

"So that is our situation as of now," Armina cut in before he rambled on. "We're under the assumption that our entire race and civilization has been destroyed save for the fifty of us here and what we have preserved. We have our entire wealth of information and technology stored in our database, but little in the way of physical resources - in fact, exactly zero outside of the Espers. Im has informed us that the ship we are currently recovering on will be leaving and thus we will need lodging elsewhere..."

Whispering to Armina, Gideon said, "Don't forget to ask..."

"And as Gideon needlessly reminds me yet again, he has about a thousand questions and tests for your Highness. You see, we are determined to live on... to fight on... but we are on the brink of extinction."

Im just smirks at Atlantia and she'd feel a hand touch her forearm. A hand that was invisible. After a moment, that withdrew. Im had penetrated the Atlantian defenses deep enough to get to her at any time... what was to stop him from removing those that sought to harm her? And how many like Joa were on the station?

The answer to that was four. Not that Im would admit it. The Stalkers were moving effortlessly through the station and were taking advantage of the chaos the resupply had caused. The comm network was the major thing that was breached. They dug deep into the logs and discovered files containing who Koth was conversing with and what he said. It was a coded channel, but it was still logged by the network.

The words Koth had used implicated them all. The names were recorded as they left the system and moved onto other interesting areas. The Atlantean systems were proving to be of moderate difficulty, but nothing compared to cracking a Demon mainframe (which all had done at least twice). They did nothing destructive, merely tracking a few of the ones that went to Koth's meeting.

Meanwhile, Im was listening to the Templars. As they finish, Im nods. "What she says is true. The Atlantia is being deployed in about four and a half hours to a search pattern. The fleet will scan the galaxy for suitable colony worlds. For both groups." He eyes the Commander for a moment, wondering how they would possibly continue on... fifty people was insanely below the viability level for a civilization. You needed at least a few thousand to maintain a somewhat clean gene-pool. And over half of those should be female, to ensure a strong population base be built. They could not make it on their own genetically... but perhaps culturally... "If I may, I am curious how you plan to grow your Empire again. With only fifty people... it doesn't seem possible to retain your genetics as they are now. Unwanted mutation would set in quickly... If I understand the situation correctly, I think a culturally based civilization would work better. Bring in like minded others from outside the civilization and become a civilization based around values and traditions rather than a species."

Armina was glad to hear that Im's sizable fleet was looking for hospitable planets for the both of them. Obviously, given their relatively small size at the time being, they wouldn't need more than a planet, and in fact couldn't use much more than a small building. However, if they were to grow, to become a true civilization again, they would eventually need much room. Even then it would take decades, centuries, millennia or more to actually need another planet, but expanding before they needed it would be helpful to recreating their star-faring nation.

"Quite right you are," the Command replied to Im's insight about their isolated genetic pool. She was happy to see that someone else had already seen the problem and understood that fifty people could only create a society for as long as a couple generations before everything broke down. If they insisted on remaining isolated, the entire Templar race would be dead or rendered horribly mutated within a hundred or so years. "There are only fifty of us left, but it’s even worse than that; there are only four females amongst us."

"And that's where you come in," Gideon said taking over the conversation, "your Highness."

Perfect timing, Armina thought sarcastically as she rolled her eyes and mentally slapped her forehead. Creep...

"You see... about eighty thousand years ago a race known as the Atlanteans suddenly disappeared from our galaxy. Their footprints were everywhere and they left small databases of information - much of which led to the establishment of our own scientific studies - but almost everything else was gone. Their cities, their ships, everything... gone. The information they left behind clearly shows that they were a highly advanced society with FTL, technology beyond our own, and an understanding of the universe we couldn't fathom. We believe that, somehow, they are our genetic ancestors. Naturally, once we discovered their existence, their disappearance brought on numerous questions: 'How did they disappear?' 'Why did they disappear?' 'Where did they go?'"

"Much of this is speculation or hypotheses with barely a shred of scientific backing," Armina butted in.

"Yes, well, it's hard to prove the negative. Long story short: belief in the Atlanteans guided much of our civilization over the past twenty-four thousand years, but we never came much closer to answering our own questions. And for the most part, it didn't concern us that much considering our ever-expanding empire and standard of living. Now, imagine our surprise after the Demon attacks to be propelled across the universe right into the backyard of a race known as the Atlanteans, led by a leader known as Atlantia. And more so, they too, you too, had fought the Demons. Now, I am no man of faith or fate, but nor do I believe in coincidental meetings with such astronomically low chances..."

"Get to the point..."

"Ah yes, well here it is. I haven't had much time to study your history yet, but I think there is a possibility that our ancestors and your ancestors are one at the same. There is at least a chance. Now over eighty thousand years there is bound to be some genetic drift... in fact, there may be a good deal more than I hoped. Thus, the best chance of deciphering this code is to find someone with a very clean genetic slate. Someone whose forbearers were not spread amongst the stars, but rather from one narrow line. Now, I am not familiar with your political system and much less your own genetic line. But if I had to guess, your line would be better than any picked at random. And if there was an ancestral match... well, that would prove very useful in many ways. We'd have much to learn from each other and genetic exchange with the Atlanteans would cause a greater continuation of our line."

"So there we have it," Armina said. "In the long run, we'd like to become self-sufficient, trade between us, develop a few systems, build starships, and generally rebuild what we lost. That's our angle. But then, that is the long-term view. I think we should also discuss the immediate - the now. Currently, what we have exists in our ten ships. We have temporary shelter, we have enough consumables and energy for ten years, and we have our determination. However, what we don't have is any resources or means of developing ourselves. And of course there is still the issue of Im's ship leaving to scour for planets and our evacuation from it.

"If it isn't too much, I'd like to at least ask for shelter for the time being. Just a small docking area where we can work on our Espers. Im tells me the alternative is a grim reality," she said with a smile. "Once we figure out our temporary living situation, then it will be one weight off my mind so we can discuss all the other issues.

"But I feel like I'm rambling," Armina said as she caught herself. "I'll let you digest everything and respond so we can get into the things that matter rather than circle about them..."

A slight shiver went up the Empress’s backside as she felt the touch of the invisible hand on her forearm. She glanced down, seeing nothing, but she knew Joa was there. Even though she knew that she wouldn’t be able to see anything, Atlantia couldn’t help but look up in the general direction of where the hand’s owner would have been. A slight expression of concern flashed past her face. It was quick though, as she was able to regain her composure.

But the uneasiness lingered. What did Im have planned? How many like Joa did he have onboard? And why? Did he plan to remove the ‘obstacles’ in her path to re-ascension of the throne? If so, how many? What would be considered a threat? Im could mold the Atlantean civilization at will if it was really so easy to get his spies in. Was that right? Did Im have a right to intervene like this?

And then a darker thought entered into her mind. What if, down the road, Im considered HER to be a threat? What if he decided for some reason or another that Atlantia wasn’t fit to rule, because she argued with him over a point? If he was put on the throne by Im’s underhanded methods, he could just as easily remove her. She had no real power. She was a puppet being used by an outside force. Was this what Koth was afraid of?

Atlantia was trapped, stuck in the middle of a power play by an over-zealous admiral and an outside force she thought of as an ally…but was he? Any sort of democracy or free will was being stifled by both Koth’s and Im’s doings.

So much for her constitutional monarchy. The complete annihilation of both the senate and the military council hadn’t helped matters any.

Having all these thoughts jumbling around in her head made it difficult to pay attention to the Templars as they explained their situation, but she managed to pick up the jist of it, and became more interested in it as they went on. She figured Im would be handling much with the finding of a new place for them to live, and she knew she would need Koth’s permission before letting them on the station. But what REALLY interested her was the history lesson Gideon was teaching. Ignoring the one-liner from him, she concentrated on the information he was providing. It was both interesting…and slightly unnerving.

…EIGHTY thousand years ago? To the Empresses’s knowledge, Atlantean history was only around twenty-five years of age. To which they only began exploring space around fifteen thousand years ago. A brief thought crossed her mind that, since Atlantean civilization had already been decimated no less then twice (with two lesser events happening, including the obliteration of the colony on Earth twelve thousand years ago), then perhaps they had also been through countless other cycles just like it, reaching back who knew how far back, and that the Atlanteans had simply forgotten their older history…even as long ago as thirteen thousand years ago…when the Zoir came.

But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Im’s history records already listed that the Atlanteans were one of the many Galactic disk species created by the many pantheons of ‘God’ species living in the Galactic core…including the Olympians. A collection of species created to oppose the Demons, the children of those ‘cast out’ of Heaven and into the Globular clusters of the Galaxy’s edge, such as the Titans.

But something wasn’t adding right. Sure, one could assume the Demons were eighty thousand or more years old. After all, the Olympians and the Titans were some of the first sentient beings to cross the Milky Way, after the Protogenoi. Therefore, it wouldn’t be hard to assume that some of the ‘children’ races had been constructed hundreds of thousands, if not millions of years ago. Or…billions? No, not that old. Although advanced, Demon ships were not unbeatable.

But now Atlantia was being given reports of them being in OTHER galaxies? And in those other galaxies, the Atlanteans had been present, fighting them? She glanced at Im as Gideon continued speaking, and wondered what this was really all about. Was what she had been told on the Trident really been the truth? Or was it just another set of lies? Just how deep did this go? Just how epic did this war get? Did Im even know? Or had he been lied to as well? That wouldn’t be surprising, given how the Olympians had treated their ‘subject’ species.

Nothing added up. But, at Gideon had said…the chances were astronomically low. As the Templars wrapped up their presentation, Atlantia stared down at the table in front of her for a moment, her hands holding her head up, with her elbows resting on the table. She then changed positions, folding her fingers together and placing her chin on them, her eyes darting from Im to the Templars to the little digital clock next to her that read the time. Her mind absent-mindedly noted that Koth was now four minutes late. According to Im’s judgment, he had two more minutes, or not at all.

The empress didn’t seem to know what to say. What could she say? She couldn’t turn these people away…she mentally cursed Koth for not being here yet.

“I…” she seemed glance away from the Templars, and Im, “I cannot give you any sort of official wording on if you can stay here or not. If it were up to me, you’d have no problem. But…as it is, we’ll have to wait for the Admiral to come”

…if he does. She added mentally, grimly.

As if to answer her question, the door slid open, and in walked, not Koth, but another woman, a little older then Atlantia. If she had been a human, one would consider her to be somewhere in her thirties or early forties. And if Im had taken notes of the faces of just who had been at Koth’s meeting, he would know she had been there, and had indeed been very anti-Atlantia and anti-Im. She seemed to not even care to try and hide her contempt of Im like Koth had, but rather gave a very demeaning glance at him as she walked into the room, and took a seat.

“I am Commander Etri” she stated flatly, as she put on a pair of reading glasses, and glanced over the materials she had brought into the room with her, not bothering to look up at the rest of the room, “And I have been assigned by the Admiral to oversee this meeting. I will be acting as his eyes, ears, and mouth regarding what this meeting entails. Empress,” she glanced at Atlantia with annoyance, “You are not required. You may leave”

The ex-Empress returned the dirty look with her own. “I prefer to stay. I have business here”

The other woman looked back at her again, as she seemed to try to debate what to do next. “Very well” she said, finally, and began to scribble something unintelligible down on her paper. “Now then…” she said, looking back up at Im and the Templars, apparently waiting for one of them to say something. Especially Im.

Im listened and returned Atlantia's look. He had his same impassive expression on. He looked at the Templar commander again. He was about to speak when the doors opened and admitted the Atlantean woman. Im eyed her and still remained silent. He didn't have the knowledge of who was contacted... yet. He leaned back. "Fashionably late doesn't work in a navy, Commander. Rather than go over all that has been said again, I shall summarize it. The Templars," he motioned to the three, "require a docking space. The Atlantia is deploying in less than five hours and cannot serve as that space any longer. I have studied your docking system and you are not using it to capacity... if you would grant the Templar's a temporary place to repair their ships, the Union would then be glad to relocate them to a more suitable home."

What none of those at the table knew was that there was another Stalker in the room now. Joa knew immediately. Stalkers had specialized implants to see the field cloaks produced. It allowed them to work in teams without difficulty. The new one passed Joa a data cube and he plugged it into his readout. He scanned the name and signaled that the new arrival was indeed one of those on the list. He also made a signal that she was not to be harmed. Yet.

Perhaps first impressions were overrated, but they certainly were telling. The appearance of the rigid and stern representative of the Admiral in contrast to the soft spoken and polite Empress painted quite the picture. In fact, it helped inform the Templars a good deal of what was going on in the Atlantean civilization. Regardless, though, of what initial thoughts or feelings the Templars had towards this Commander Etri, they would be dealing with her for the foreseeable future and thus would have to come to an understanding.

"Yes," Armina affirmed after Im had finished. "As the Fleetlord has said, the short of it is that we need a temporary home until we've finished repairs. The long of it is that we will need a permanent home once we've finished repairs - though it would seem the Fleetlord is dealing with that. The complicated of it is how to proceed once we have a home. Obviously though we have a wealth of knowledge, we lack the resources or manpower to capitalize on any of it. The bizarre of it doesn't really need to be re-explained at present time; should it become valuable information, we can re-discuss it," she finished in reference to the possible ancestral connection.

"There we have it," Kent added in his obvious accent (high, though relaxed British). "So what say you?"

The commander held the pen in both hands, facing down with her elbows on the table supporting them.

"Indeed" she said in reply, her tone (or lack thereof) and expression seemed to indicate disinterest in the plight of the Templars. After few seconds of staring down the group of them, trying to size them up, she turned to Im and arched her left eyebrow. "Fleetlord, I may be mistaken, but I am fairly certain that our dock records are not...how should I say...open to the public" Her eyes narrowed, "It is not polite to snoop where you are not wanted"

Atlantia's left hand gasped the edge of her part of the table, subconsciously squeezing it out of stress. There were others in this room that none of them could see, and it didn't look like this woman was as bumbling as Koth. Something could happen.

This can't end well...

OOC: Sorry for my absence. Finals and all. I'm here for tomorrow, but then I'm off again until Monday/Tuesday next week, 'cause I'm going to Chicago. But after that, I should be free to go.

Im leaned back. "Who said I was snooping? There were several docking bays that were being used as cargo storage. The Templars would only need one of these. And as for not being wanted, Commander... if the Union truly is not wanted, say so. And I shall leave your species here on this backwater of a planetoid and watch you tear each other apart when the food I supplied runs out. Frankly, you need me more than I need you I am helping your people because I, for once in my life, feel guilty about something. I don't like the feeling... so I'm doing the one thing that will rid my mind of it. Putting your civilization back on it's feet. Even if I have to drag you up personally. I will not leave again until your Republic is growing independently of the Union and is not in danger of collapsing again." A contradiction. He keeps daring them to tell him to leave, but also keeps saying he won't leave until the job is done.

He looks to the Templars. "This is not about the Union, though. It is about the Templars. Where will they go? Shall I prepare them for a trip to your station, or give them a good firm shove towards Terra and wish them the best of luck?" The latter said with dripping sarcasm.

The commander noticed the contradiction, and her eyes further narrowed as Im spoke. Now was not the time to get hasty however. This was primarily for reconnaissance. She, despite what she had said, did not have the authority to terminate relations with Im or the Union. That was still solely within Koth's jurisdiction. She also did not have authority to allow or deny the Templars refuge. That decision had already been made prior to the meeting. She would simply be the one to deliver it.

In short, the statement that she was Koth's 'mouth' had only been a half-truth. This meeting was being held solely to determine how far Im could be pushed, and if he would let anything slip. She never said it to Koth's face, but he and she both knew Koth was not very competent at foreign relations.

Both the condradiction and the fact that Im was apparently all 'too' ready for this meeting by declaring that they had room were facts to write back to Koth about. Im was circumnavigating his way though the power structure with ease. That would have to stop. She half-way glanced at the Empress, but only for a split second, surmising that Atlantia might have been giving information she was not supposed to. That would also have to stop. Which meant it was just about time to initiate the next phase of the plan, which had two objectives too it.

But that would come later. The matter at hand was related, but still very different.

"I...see your point, Fleetlord" she said, still with a very grumpy tone of voice. "How many would we be accommodating, out of curiosity?"

Lure them in, she thought silently to herself, Do as you have been ordered.

***

"Hello, Seth. Long time, no see" Sid muttered, glaring at the unstable figure, as his hand subconsciously reached for his pistol.

Seth was sitting an arms reach away from Sid, Xolin, and Lakin, inside the small confinement cell in the medlab. His face was contorted into an unsettling grin, going from ear to ear as if he was wonderfully amused.

"Heeeeey, if it isn't the Mon Capitan himself!" Seth replied, just before breaking into a fit of laughter. It took a few seconds to compose himself, before staring right at Sid again with his mirthful smile. "How's it hangin!? Been to any funerals lately? Or are the homes booked?"

Sid snapped, and grabbed Seth up his his feet by his collar, drawing his face close to his own. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just kill you right now?" he said quietly, but with full of malice.

Lakin spoke up as he crossed his arms, "Well, if you did, it'd be a federal offense. Not that it really matters in this day and age"

Seth seemed to find Lakin's comment amusing, and descended into another fit of laughter. He shook his head, regaining his composure, and looked back into the damning eyes of Sid. "Ohhh, Sid. The stories I could tell you. Did you know just how Sel went down fighting? Her screams of pain, of defiance, even as her body failed her? It really was a stroke of genius, my plan to hunt you down one by one. Then you had to fuck it up"

"Why'd you do it?" Sid asked, not falling for the bait. He shook Seth's body as he spoke, as if to emphasize his threat.

Another burst of giggles and Seth replied, "The Demons, as we call them, wished for us to return to nothingness. We were not meant for this life" His voice seemed to drawl now, as if he was losing what little lucidity he had left. His face turned away from Sid again. "And what the Demons want...no, what the Titans, the Gods themselves want, they get..." he said, locking his face back on Sid's again with a lopsided grin. His tone had become one of a whisper.

Angered, Sid threw Seth back down to the floor, who seemed to lay there, his smile unwavering. "However, it seems as though their divine wish has gone unfulfilled as long as some still live" he began giggling once more, "We...must be...cleansed from this life"

As if to illustrate his point, Seth vanished into thin air as he uttered his last word.

"What the--?!" Sid couldn't finish his statement as his face was pounded by an unseen force. Another hit him right in the abdomen, and before he knew it, he had flown over a medical bed behind him, landing on the floor. Xolin and Lakin attempted to stop what they could not see, but as expected, they could not do much. Both were slammed into opposite walls of the cell.

"Security!" Sid, his nose now bloody and red, spoke into his wrist communicator, "We have a code Omega breach. I repeat, code OMEGA. We have a cloaked hostile on the loose inside the ship. Find and terminate. I repeat, locate, and destroy"

"He had a cloaking device?!" Xolin exclaimed, getting back up. "You let him KEEP IT?!"

"Augh..." Lakin rubbed his sore head and he too got back up, "Demon cloaking tech is far beyond our own, you know that. We can't detect them with any normal scanning devices"

"You didn't...I dunno, SEARCH HIS BODY!?" Xolin was flabbergasted.

Lakin shrugged, "There was nothing on his body I didn't already collect. It must have been one of the implants I couldn't remove"

"Well...now it's a problem" Sid grimaced as he stood back up. He took his left hand and wiped off some of the blood, his right hand holding his pistol. "Have all science teams begin internal scans of the ship. Do whatever you have to find him" he said, looking at Lakin.

"Understood" was the doctor's reply.

Sid looked at Xolin, and both nodded. "Let's do this" Sid said, before he walked out, Xolin trailing with her own gun in hand.

"I...see your point, Fleetlord" she said, still with a very grumpy tone of voice. "How many would we be accommodating, out of curiosity?"

"Well," Armina quickly interjected as she noticed that the commander seemed to be considering consenting, "there are fifty of us in total. All we really need is an open docking bay where we can set down our ships and get to work on finishing repairs." She stopped momentarily and turned to Gideon.

As his eyes swam around for a moment in that way where it was obvious he was calculating something, he slowly began to open his mouth. "A bay with about sixty-four hundred square meters should do."

"Right, just enough room where we can put them all down and be able to maneuver our equipment to work on them," the commander confirmed. "Other than that, we have all of the supplies we need, both for repairs and in terms of perishables-"

"Yes, about that," Kent interrupted in is charming (British) accent as she spoke of their food supplies. "While it is true we have enough food to survive and our ships were designed for living extended periods of time, I'm sure adding fifty people to your burden wouldn't hurt much, would it? I mean, our diet-spheres are fine and all, but some real food would be great." Upon seeing the stern stare that Armina was giving him, Kent quickly turned back to the Atlantean commander to correct himself. "If not food, at least some quarters. As I said, we could live on our ships, but the get kind of cramped and their isn't much privacy."

Turning from the deadly stare she was giving Kent to also look upon the Atlantean, Armina's expression changed to a warm smile. "Yes, well that aside, once we can finish our repairs, we'll be sure to pay you back. In addition to his studies of our... purported links... Gideon will be happy to help in any technical issues he can..."

"I will?" the started Engineer said.

"You will."

"Uhh- yes, of course, I will."

"And the rest of us will lend hands where we can. We can help patrol the area, search for hospitable planets, or whatever else with the Espers."

While the rest of the Templars were preparing for their transference to a new ship, Armina hoped there weren't any problems. They were in a strange and foreign situation, physically and metaphorically, and tensions could run high. Hopefully though, they would soon have a new docking station locked up.

Without ever taking her attention away from the discussion at hand, she made a point of having the computer in her T-Suite begin a search in the Templar database. Query: Basic civilization establishment needs, societal structure, sub-environments, growth patterns. If they were to eventually find a suitable planet to establish a new home, she was going to be prepared to take full advantage. Setting up a Compound as their personal living area was the first objective.

Brushing aside the previous discussion as if it had been settled in the affirmative, Armina continued the discussion along a different albeit not unrelated path. "So, where do we stand in permanent settlement options?" She was specifically asking about their search for planets and what it had turned up, but though she did not voice it, she was also curious as to the Atlantean's plans. While they had some resources, they too had numerous issues facing them currently and the near future.

Im's own mind was working through several angles, unknowingly playing a game of chess with the Atlantean officer. He too had all he needed to initiate the next phases of his own plan. Well, he had all of it, but was unaware of it at the moment. For the Stalkers to inform him, they would have to reveal themselves. And doing so would destroy the whole plan, utterly.

"If you do not wish to eat into the stores we have just provided to you, we can send additional stores from the Atlantia, for the Templars to use."

=========

Periphery of former Atlantian space

Several dark shapes shot around and fired upon the ancient ship before them. It's shields were holding, but it was facing technology millennia beyond it's own. It was the dreadnought Gates of Mitnal, a smaller sibling of the gunship Archangel and it packed a powerful punch, but lacked the mind boggling amount of defenses that ship had picked up through the years.

The dreadnought arced up and fired it's main weapons, the twin magnetic cannons. They were the size of the secondary mag-cannons on the Archangel, but they still cored one Demon ship and sent another spinning through space. The battle was no real contest. The demons were too few in number and size to take out the ancient ship, even if they did outclass it technologically.

Or so the dreadnought believed. As it chased the remaining cruiser around a planet, her captain came face to face with one of it's crew's worst nightmares... The dreadnought turned and ran, desperately trying to get away, now that it had been outclassed in every way. It wasn't fast enough and the engine pods were sliced off in seconds, while the long neck of the ship was torn into. It did manage to fire off a message probe though... and soon the Atlantia was contacting Im.

=========

Im looked down as his comm beeped. "Yes, Io?"

"Commander, the Gates of Mitnal has been destroyed. We received an emergency message probe. It contains no telemetry. I cannot verify the source of the probe with accuracy. There is only a one word message."

I'ms confident expression slipped. He had seen the dreadnought and her sister ship in action. He knew that there were few things that could kill them. "What was the message?"

There is a short pause, before Io answers. "Nodes."

Im ran a hand through his hair. Something none of them had seen him do. It seems he was becoming annoyed by this whole situation. "If it is not one thing, it is another. Fine... alert the fleet if they are not already aware. Inform them to half the search effort and double up each team. I'm not losing more ships. Also contact the Union proper. Request a scout fleet be deployed to reinforce."

"Yes, commander.

He leans back as he switches the comm off. After a moment, he explains for the Templars. "Nodes are formidable ships used by the demons. I had thought them all destroyed. Obviously I was wrong. They are not indestructible, however. I've brought down many in my career, as have my crews. It could be worse."

Yeah, the message could have been 'Habitats'.

Both Atlantia's and Etri's faces paled as they turned their attention fully on Im and his conversation. The threat was apparently not yet over.

"...Nodes..." Atlantia repeated soundlessly, more then a little shaken. The commander was even more frightened, and didn't say anything, she simply seemed to shiver for a moment.

Atlantia however, seemed to recompose herself, and took the commander's moment of weakness to take back control of the conversation. She looked at Armina, "Permanent settlement options are, sadly, less then favorable in any scenario. The Demon fleets torched all habitable planets in and near Atlantean space...as well as several other former political states near us. We currently have a wing of our new tactical cruisers searching for a new place to settle, and the Union has its own fleet out...searching..." she seemed to glance at Im, knowing what had just happened to one of those ships. And suddenly, she felt very worried for Sid and his fleet.

However, she quickly returned her gaze to Armina, "But so far our results have not been good. Especially since this area of the galaxy is so heavily-populated, most existing habitable systems have already been laid claim to"

She looked back at Im again, "...And it doesn't help matters that the demon fleets are still stronger then we thought, and are still burning planets"

***

Two figures silently made their way down the empty hallway of the Destiny. The entire crew had been redirected to a small number of 'hot spots' on the ship, areas that were considered to be of vital importance, such as engineering or the bridge. A few teams of security officers were scouring the hallways, but for now, these two beings were the only ones in the area.

Their target: Seth, former temporal fugitive, current prophet of doom. The survivor of a freak black hole relativity accident that had sent him flying several thousand years from the past. He had eventually gotten himself involved with the Taskforce Project, a project that was developing a set of devices that utilized nano and quantum technology that was almost incomprehensible even to the developers.

And then he had fallen into Demon hands after another freak accident which destroyed the building that had designed the devices, and had been presumed dead. He was outfitted with various implants and devices to make him stronger, smarter, faster...and completely obedient. He was the Gods chosen one. And his mission was to cleanse the world of all who walked. All who talked. All who breathed, ate, and slept. All who existed. All who were inferior, and had been deemed as waste, failed projects, by the Gods themselves.

Two of the Taskforce members, Sel and Coros, had already fallen to him during the war, and he had sold out his people, helping the Demons find and destroy major vital targets of the Atlantean forces, as well as weak points, quickening their defeat. And he had laughed as Cirrus, the capital world of the Imperial Federation, burned like a dying star.

And now, one of the three surviving members of Project Taskforce, Sid, wanted revenge.

"Where are you..." Sid muttered to himself, as he and Xolin made their way down the hallway, pistols ready. He spoke into his wrist communicator, but kept his eye and aim up, "Any sign?"

"We've detected faint vibrations in the floors near you, on your deck. We're having trouble pinpointing him though. But it seems as though--"

The alarms started blaring all over the ship.

"He's been sighted at the armory. If you hurry, you can catch him!"

"Understood" Sid replied, as he and Xolin sped up, now racing down the hallway, "How soon until we reach Karinlis?"

"A few minutes. The star's on a crazy flare period, though, so we're shit outta luck on long-range sensors. If there IS a surviving Atlantean fleet, we'll just have to wait till we get there"

"Smart" Xolin spoke up, right behind Sid as they ran, "That's probably why they chose that star. To throw off the Demon fleet following them"

"But knowing our luck, we'll have twenty Demon Habitats staring down at us when we get there" Sid replied, as they turned a corner.

Xolin rolled her eyes. "You always gotta look on the bright side, don't you?"

The two came up on the armory--or rather, what was left of the armory. A giant hole had been ripped through the door, and a dozen dead guards lay around it, their bodies bleeding all over...some of them apparently had limbs removed.

"Oh...fun" Sid mused.

"Looking for me, Mon Capitan?" asked a voice, behind them. Both Sid and Xolin spun around, to face Seth, who had a demonic wide grin on his face, and was showing off a small device on his left wrist.

Sid made sure a similar small device was visible on his left wrist, "So" he said in realization, "Thats why you went to the armory"

"I had to get something you wrongfully took from me" Seth said, his smile fading, "That was very naughty of you. I'll have to punish you before my ride gets here"

Xolin made a movement towards her left wrist as well, yet another similar device sitting there. She wasn't fond of this at all. The devices were mostly untested. All that was known was that too many of them activated in the same area was a *bad* thing. Who knew what one against the other could do? Well, she surmised she was about to find out.

"Nodes."

Upon hearing the grim news of the Demons' apparent return to this galaxy, Commander Armina became suddenly rigid, though only noticeable if one was watching her intently. Without any further movement or alert, she began communicating secretly with Gideon via the T-Suite's Temple-Visor and connection over the Grid.

"The Demons are here...?"

"It would seem so..."

"Could... could they have followed us here?"

"Well... it's hard to know. In theory, it's possible, but we don't have any reliable evidence indicating that they did or that they even could. One would presume the ships that intercepted our voyage were destroyed by the Whisper's blast - and if they weren't, they most likely presumed we were. Even ignoring that, they'd have to figure out what direction we traveled in, which they could've only done if they were tracking us before the explosion AND the ripples didn't mess up their sensors. But from there that still leaves millions of light-years of space to explore, which would require constant hopping and an entire fleet searching. Plus, we don't even know if they are capable of intergalactic space travel... Though considering there is evidence of their existence both in our own galaxy and this one, I'd say its likely they have the technology... either that or they experienced a similar event as we did and got projected across the universal's gaps, leaving them to build a second fleet in our galaxy... or their galaxy, which ever came first."

"...A simple yes or no would've been better."

"Oh... I'd say not likely."

The sudden pang of guilt she had felt when hearing of the Demons' arrival was alleviated slightly by Gideon's response. However, it didn't keep her active mind from contemplating the idea. Regardless though, whether they had followed the Templars or not, the fact remained that they had returned. Once again they represented a significant threat to the galaxy and survival itself. Something had to be done.

Continuing her use of the Temple-Visor's hookup to the Grid shared by all of the Templars, Armina accessed the engineering logs from back at the dock where the Espers were being worked on.

Verifying Credentials...
[VERIFIED]
Grid Hookup...
[BUILT - 100%]
Accessing Logs...
Access Granted
Displaying ~ Day 2: Log 16 of 24

Project Name: Esper-1 Repair
Activity: Starship Repairs
Current Task: Shield Connectivity
Status: 75% Viability
ETC: 25 Hours

Project Name: Esper-2 Repair
Activity: Starship Repairs
Current Task: Sensor Array
Status: 60% Viability
ETC: 2.5 Days

Project Name: Esper-3 Repair
Activity: Starship Repairs
Current Task: Wormhole Stabilizer
Status: 90% Viability
ETC: 10-14 Hours

Project Name: Esper-4 Repair
Activity: Starship Repairs
Current Task: Polishing
Status: Completed
ETC: N/A

Project Name: Esper-5 Repair
Activity: Starship Repairs
Current Task: Communications Packet
Status: 40%
ETC: 5 Days

Project Name: Esper-6 Repair
Activity: Starship Repairs
Current Task: Energy-Booster
Status: 70% Viability
ETC: 3 Days

Project Name: Esper-7 Repair
Activity: Starship Repairs
Current Task: Sublight Drives
Status: 10% Viability
ETC: 8 Days

Project Name: Esper-8 Repair
Activity: Starship Repairs
Current Task: Shield Levels
Status: 80% Viability
ETC: 18 Hours

Project Name: Esper-9 Repair
Activity: Starship Repairs
Current Task: Polishing
Status: Complete
ETC: N/A

Project Name: Esper-10 Repair
Activity: Starship Repairs
Current Task: Sublight Drives
Status: 20% Complete
ETC: 8 Days

After reviewing the list of repairs and their current states, Armina spoke up, not knowing whether she was interrupting any conversation or not. "If you need it... or even if you don't..." the Commander began to both Im and Etri, "we have completed repairs on a couple of our ships - they just need a bit of polishing, but that can obviously wait - so I can deploy a small air guard. There only two of them that are fully operational, but don't underestimate their abilities; they were built to take on both enemy fighters and full starships. Just tell me where you want them deployed, and I'll have them running hot in five minutes." It wasn't much, but it was all they could offer militarily at the moment... well, in a way. They could handle their own against a Demon ship, holding it at bay for a while if not destroying it.

Kent could tell that the Commander was slightly frazzled, so he interjected to take control of the conversation. "Well, I think talk of settlement aside, we have discussed most of the major points that we can at this point." While simultaneously talking with the group, he too began communicating via Temple-Visor and Grid with Armina. It was quite impressive to carry on two conversations with varying subjects at the same time, but apparently he was very talented in that area.

"I'll alert EXO Godwin to have repairs be put on hold and prepare for the taxi over," he send, echoing Armina's earlier sentiment about assuming Etri had accepted despite her silence on the matter. Refusal, while still possible, would make them look quite rude and insensitive.

"Commander, I think once we deploy to our new position, you should raise the Marine Guard. Oddly, though we may share some connection with the Atlanteans, I feel slightly more secure with the... other aliens. It just seems the political situation over here could cause some troubles and they may just see us as leverage."

"When that's done, we'll send out the CAP to provide a blanket of protection," he offered, confirming Armina's offer without making it appear as weak.

"With ten up in the CAP and twenty working on repairs, that leaves twenty of us left. I'd say levy ten men into the Guard, post them at the dock entrances... you know, just as a show of force - full regalia."

"And Empress," he said in his charming voice to Atlantia, the one who was most left out of the conversation, "whenever you wish to spare the time, I'm sure Gideon would wish to spend a couple hours with you."

"Also considering the political balance, I'd suggest either remaining neutral or picking your side early. Our interest in Atlantia isn't helping our cause considering she has no power, but if that is what's best... that's best. Though I would give her a lifeline to us, just in case. I'm all for the precautions right now."

"If there is anything we can do for you," he said as he turned to Commander Etri, "please let me know and I will see what we can do. Otherwise, unless you have something else to discuss... I think this has been a fruitful conversation."

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

[OOC: The italicized parts in quotes are secret conversations via the Temple-Visor and Grid that connects the Templars. It is written word rather than speech.

The ladder half of the post is two simultaneous conversations going on, as stated in it. The italicized is to Armina secretly, the non-italicized is out loud to everyone.]

Im listened quietly as the group spoke, punching in commands to an electronic pad. As he did so, something beeped on it and he raised an eyebrow. He silenced the beep and punched in a few more commands. "With the information provided, along with the information I already had... I think we can transfer the Templars to your facilities without incident. I will be taking it on my own to supply them with already known compatible equipment and supplies that are enough for a couple weeks. This way there is no reason for any Admirals to complain about a drain on the system."

As he said this, he stood up and sighed softly. "Commander Armina... if you would prepare your people, I would like to transfer them as soon as possible. With the new information about the Demons, it becomes even more important than ever to get the Atlantia on her way." She looks at the Atlantean commander. "I, however, shall remain here as ordered." Odd, the greatest military mind of the war not going to hunt down at least two known Nodes? He didn't look pleased by any means, but he was a Fleetlord. If he thought disobeying his orders imperative, he would.

[OOC: I would respond, but I have very little to say at the moment. We'll assume Armina replied: "We'll be ready to transfer as soon as we get back to the Atlantia."]

Etri stood up as well, having finally recovered from the shock of the news Im had presented. She glanced at Armina, with a tense feeling. "We shall make a loading bay ready for your people, as well as some quarters" She turned to Im. "Now, then, if we are all done..."

The commander began to move toward the door, very abrupt and quick to leave. She had to report in to Koth on a great many things. The sighting of Nodes...and possibly more importantly, Im's continued interference on the internal workings of the station. It was true, he probably did get the information through legal methods, but the fact that he was openly researching as if to find chinks in the chain of command seemed to make her and Koth's suspicions far more probable.

Im had operators on the station. The scanners had all picked up the blip when one of them had apparently revealed themselves to Atlantia, even if they hadn't been able to pin down who or what it was. And then there was that signal in Atlantia's quarters, which, to the command staff's amazement, had been determined to be some sort of dragon. Etri now had all the probability she needed to enact the next phase of the operation. She had to out Im's operations on the station...even if it meant gambling on the Ex-Empresses life.

Atlantia, meanwhile, moved over to Armina. "I feel I must apologize for the abrasiveness of my government. When you wish to have a discussion with me, contact me and we can set something up" A slightly mischievous grin formed over he mouth, "I have a feeling I have a few questions of my own to ask"

She bowed slightly, giving off a sign of respect.

***

A loud crash thundered through the halls of the Destiny as Sid was thrown through a wall into an empty set of quarters.

"Nnnk..." the now-fully armored figure muttered as he got up. Using his wrist device, Sid had activated the result of Project Taskforce. Using advanced nanotechnology that was related to the technology that created replicators, and ancient Atlantean tech that the scientists hardly even fully understood, they had created a somewhat unstable device that could use the surrounding air molecules and convert them into a different type of matter...in this case, cloth-thin flexible full-body armor. For further protection, extra thicker armor plates had been placed, and a helmet hid the head. Sid's suit was almost fully black, with the exception of a small amount of white and red trim.

"Wakey, wakey!" said Seth, as he came hurdling into the room in midair, also in a similar suit, only without the red, having it substituted with gray. His kick knocked Sid into the wall of the quarters, who then ducked to avoid a punch to the face.

The sound of a series of laser blasts sounded off as Seth felt them pummel into his backside. He chuckled as he turned around to see Xolin, in another similar suit, only with a blue trim. In her hand she held a pistol, aimed at Seth.

"Bad move" Seth said, has he lunged forward.

***

"Still nothing?" asked Xol, sitting on the bridge of the Destiny. He was looking over at Sing, who sat in her usual spot at navigation. Both of them worked together with sensors, as Xol was the one at tactical.

"If you haven't seen anything, then neither have I" she muttered lazily, leaning back in the chair.

"Well, I *did* detect a breach of an internal wall, as well as an increase of energy, which means I guess they found Seth..."

"Mmm..." Sing muttered, as if she was about to take a nap. The search had revealed nothing. No hidden Atlantean fleet, no Demon ships, nothing. Sure, the sensors were still scanning through the flare disturbances the star was giving off, but so far...nothing.

Just as she was almost out, the alarms began blaring, causing Sing to jump up in her seat and almost fall out. Xol laughed...until the viewscreen showed why the alarms had begun going crazy.

Three large Demon Dreadnoughts and several smaller support ships decloaked in front of them.

Xol's and Sing's eyes widened in pure utter horror, as did the rest of the bridge crew's.

"Fuck"

With everyone leaving, Im also started for the door, but stopped to look back at Atlantia. "We will be ready within four hours." He says, not revealing what he meant specifically. The Templars was the surface option, but the underlying ones...

He had received the data from the Stalkers, as he was using his datapad and he knew he now had everything he needed to wipe the slate clean of those with enough power to threaten Atlantia. All he needed now was a reason to act.

He also smiled just a bit. "Also... how did you like my gift?"

The former empress's ears perked up as Im mentioned the timetable. Four hours, until the Templars would be finished moving, and Im's ship would be ready to leave the system, she figured. She would give the new arrivals some time to set up shop, before she went to see them herself.

She smiled sheepishly as Im brought up the dragon. Turning towards him, she nodded. "Very much so. I'm not quite sure how I'm going to be able to repay you for all of your kindness" Her face had changed somewhat into a somber expression, still genuinely grateful, but more concerned at what it meant down the road.

OOC: Eh, I'll wait another post before doing the next part of the Destiny's storyline. I'm a little short on time right now.

Im nods, slowly. "I thought it appropriate... as for repayment, all I want is what your people want. Your nation back on it's feet, preferably with it's Empress at the helm. I will do all in my power to see both occur. Once that is done, your destiny is your own."

At that, Im strode out and returned to... the Archangel? Apparently he had already transferred over.

As Im strode through the ancient ship, he was greeted by the crew in standard fashion... fear. They wouldn't meet his gaze and pretended that he wasn't there. He was a Fleetlord to the rest of the universe, but on this ship... he was like a God. A very vengeful one, if crossed. The difference between him and the Olympians was that his crew was well aware he was mortal, but still feared him. He enjoyed that, though he rarely admitted it to himself.

Entering the dark bridge, he was surrounded by familiar faces and sounds. The bridge crew had a couple faces that were new to those posts, but he still recognized all of them. "Shiplord, report." He watched as the bridge came to a halt, turning to look at the ship's old master. He arched an eyebrow and they quickly resumed their duties.

"We have full power in all systems, a full loadout of ammunition and a brand new Atlantian engine in outboard pod three." Came the answer from the center chair, where an aging Terran woman sat, looking out of place in a Union uniform. "Welcome aboard, Fleetlord."

Im nodded. "Thank you. Number three, you say? Hmm... The last time I was here, we had just overhauled that engine. Was it damaged in battle?"

"Yes, sir. The one where we rammed the Node, towards the war's end. It was losing efficiency at a rate of a quarter percent a week and we felt it was easier to simply replace the thing than jury rig it. We found an Atlantian engine that fit inside the nacelle and tied it in. Now it powers the Atlantean weapons, in addition to the shields. They work better with their own power source."

"Very well. Carry on, Shiplord. I shall be in my quarters."

=============

[DMG, I'm not sure how you want to do the transfer of your people. I think it'd be easiest if you just did it yourself, stating something about how the Union provided transports for equipment and crew, as needed.]

[OOC: Yeah, sorry - I meant to post earlier, even if just a small ooc comment to talk about it, but well... I didn't. I'll just make a brief post of them getting setup. We can continue from there as we see fit.]

With everyone piling out of the conference room, the three Templars bowed with respect to their new companions. Briskly and without wasting any time, they were led directly back to the transport that had carried them to Hope Station a short hour ago. As they strapped into their seats and prepared for the puddle jump, Armina began preparing for their new temporary home.

"Gideon," she said, speaking directly to the other Templar for the first time since they arrived at the station, "get on the horn with your number two and have him wrap everything up. I want every bird sealed and ready to fly by the time we arrive. Get the seven and the ten linked up and move all equipment to the transport Im is providing for us. Then assign one man from each of the two Espers into one of the operational ones and pick two to fly the transport over to Hope. You've got fifteen minutes."

"Kent," she continued without breath, turning from her right side to her left, "From now on, you'll be my liaison to the Atlanteans. You are to coordinate everything with them from here on out. Get the port dimensions and docking procedures ASAP and prep for our arrival. Anyone has any problems with the Atlanteans or vice versa, they talk to you."

Within moments, everyone had their instructions and were dutifully plugging away, prepping for their momentary space flight across to Hope Station. When the transport carrying the three Templars arrived back at the Atlantia, the Commander was pleased to see everything ready. The Espers were spun up and ready to go, the crews had piled in, and the transport was waiting in the wings for departure.

Kent touched his ear and received the signal from Hope Station, "Ma'am, we are all green. Launch is a go." And with the confirmation, the ten Espers hovered in the air and then launched at the bay window with a quickening pace followed shortly after by the transport carrying all of the necessary supplies to finish their repairs. Everything was going off without a hitch.

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

The Espers filed into the docking bay that they had been designated in Hope Station two by two and set down lightly on the bay floor. First in were Espers Four and Nine, which carried Espers Seven and Ten in tow, respectively. Upon entering the secure environment, they turned around and set down so that the ships most in need of repair were furthest from the bay door. After they had settled in and the cables had been detached, the remaining ships followed their lead and set down in the dock.

Just as soon as the ship had set down on the metal floor, Armina had opened the sliding door and strode powerfully out, barking commands. "Esper Teams Four and Nine, perform diagnostic checks on all systems and report to me for further orders." The system checks would only take a couple of minutes and required little more than pressing a few buttons. "Gideon, get the Engineering Corps organized and get to work on my ships. I want as many operational as possible, so start with those least damaged - that's One, Three, Six, Eight. Put whoever is left on Esper Two and leave Eight and Ten 'till the end, they're going to take longer than we have." The Engineering Corps were the twenty members of the expedition that had a technical background and could actually be useful in repairing the ships, even if it only meant following what another of the engineers said. To his credit, Gideon had already ventured to the transport ship carrying their supplies and began unloading it eve before she had begun issuing orders.

"Kent!" Upon hearing no response, Armina glanced around the large bay and saw that he was at the other end of the room talking with an Atlantean about the docking bay. "Godwin," she barked at her EXO as she scanned the docking bay with both her eyes and the computer systems attached to her.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Outside of the Engineering Corps and Kent, choose any eleven other men you want. Look through the list, select carefully, but do it quickly. They should be reliable, rational, and controlled, but soldiers..."

"Yes, Ma'am," he saluted as she moved past him to where Kent was wandering back from one end.

"Kent, try to secure quarters as near to the bay as possible. I want as few corridors and doors between this bay and those rooms as possible, understood?" But without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and walked back to Esper One, located closest to the bay door. In one graceful leap, she jumped onto the low front end of the ship and walked up the sloping frame until she was standing considerably higher than everyone else.

"Listen up, everyone!" The commotion and roar of movement quickly came to silent halt as they looked up at their leader. "As of one hour ago, it has been confirmed that the Daemons are in this galaxy and not far off. They have destroyed our civilization and killed our families, but we still survive and as long as we survive, the war goes on. We are in a foreign environment, but they are our allies for now. Be vigilant and we may continue on. Esper Teams Four and Nine, report to your ships. You are to perform Combat Air Patrols duties for Hope Station - you are authorized to engage enemies hot. Engineering Corps, commence repairs... we will not be sleeping until they are done."

"I am enacting Colonial Directive 0005, establishing the active force Marine Guard. If EXO Godwin has contacted you, you are to report to him in Combat Readiness One. Nobody will be leaving this bay without my authorization. Now get to work!"

As she stood head and shoulders literally above the rest, the Templars under her commands scurried off to complete their tasks. Within a minute, the CAP Esper Teams had their birds in the air and launching out of the bay. They would be flying in spheres around the station so as to cover as much space as possible. The engineers were finishing unloading the heavy machinery and had begun final repairs on the Espers on their docket. Godwin's team of twelve men had returned to their ships, to dress for Combat Readiness. When they emerged, their cloaks were gone, revealing the metal suits beneath them that doubled as armor and life support and in their hands they carried heavy weaponry. They were split up into four teams of three and posted at each of the four entrances/exits to the docking bay. They were the wall between the rest of the Station and the Templars. Kent, for his own part, hurried off to find an Atlantean he could talk to about quartering arrangements.

When she was satisfied, Armina walked back down the front of the Esper and hopped off. Everything had gone smoothly for the moment, though she knew it could not last considering all that was going on, and for that lone moment, she would relax...

OOC: I am going to jump in. Just waiting for the right moment :)

OOC: I am going to jump in. Just waiting for the right moment :)

[OOC: Who are you?]

As soon as all the Espers were safely onboard the station and all Union craft had returned to both the colony ship and the battleship, they both signaled the Archangel and departed with the other escorts, leaving the nearby space rather less crowded.

---

Im's spartan dinner was uninterrupted by the door chime. He sighed and signaled it open. "Yes?"

"Im." His former first officer strode in, smiling. He was the only person in the galaxy that called him that, outside a few scientists that didn't know better.

"Natalie, what can I do for you?" He asked, setting the food tray aside.

She waited for the door to close and eyed Argo as he emerged from the other room, making a low sound. After a few seconds, the beast lost interest as Ransom didn't seem intimidated and Im seemed at ease. "Why is the Archangel sitting here, playing watchtower to the Atlanteans when we could be out there, killing those Nodes? And why are you not doing so yourself?"

Im nodded. "Ah... I can see how you would be confused. The truth is that the Nodes are an annoyance. They aren't a threat to anything but maybe one or two systems. After that, they have revealed themselves and will be destroyed in short order."

"You're telling me the Demons are not a threat? Sir, with all due-"

"Save it, Shiplord... I won will not change my mind. There is nothing more important at this moment than the Atlantean people. I helped cause their destruction and I will not abandon them on some wild goose chase, as you would put it." He sighed. "I owe it to them. I owe it to her... to stay and make amends. I have all I need to ruin Koth and several others. I just have to send the data and watch the chaos ensue... leaving only Atlantia standing. But I must play this carefully, you see... if I reveal my cards too soon, they can make preparations against me. Fabricate new truths. So I must wait for Koth to act. And if he doesn't, I must continue to goad him."

Ransom smirked. "And all the while you twist it so that he is the aggressor. Thus giving your data a firm foundation."

Im nodded. "I have taught you well, Ransom. But all will be for naught if Atlantia does not have the support she needs from us. Which is why we are still here. The Archangel carries more firepower than any single ship in the fleet and could reduce a continent to dust before a defense fleet could even breach her shields. Even the Cirrus defensive grid would have been hard pressed to kill this ship. Having that ship stand watch over them means that there is no way harm could befall them, short of Sol going nova."

OOC: What do you mean who I am!!

[OOC: I assume he is just a random guy named TNA that wants to jump in to the story. I have no objections so long as he is decent. Up to you two.]

OOC: I am fairly certain I closed this thread off a few pages back. If you have a truly good reason to join, TG me.

IC:

“Demons”

“Yes, sir. It seems Im’s supposed ‘eradication’ seems to have been less then absolute”

Koth leaned back in his chair thoughtfully as the commander informed him of the situation. Demon nodes had been spotted by Im’s forces. The worst-case scenario was indeed the one they were looking at.

“Then we should remove Im’s presence as soon as possible” the elderly admiral replied, “The time of games between us is over. As was last time, Im is leading the demons too us, weather he likes it or not”

“Sir?”

Koth sat up and leaned forward on his desk. “Think about it, commander. The fleetlord appears one day to Atlantia, the next thing you know, we’ve uncovered a demon dreadnought. And we all know where *that* went”

Koth paused to let the information soak into Commander Etri. Then he continued, “Im has been a constant pest since he returned. He says he wants to restore our people to their former glory, but since he has returned, he has turned our former Empress against us, continuously subverted my leadership, planted near-undetectable…things on this station, thrown refugees at us as if we had the ability to support them, and drawn the Demons to us once more”

He slammed his fist on his desk, and stood up. “It ends now”

Etri seemed momentarily taken aback by the Admiral’s sudden outburst, but recomposed herself quickly. “So then…do we initiate the next phase?”

“Im has forced my hand” replied the Admiral, in a bit more of a somber tone, “I did not want to do this…I did not wish to use Atlantia as bait, or harm her life. She was once a dear friend. But she has become a tool of the enemy…and I cannot stand by any longer”

“So…we initiate the next phase then” Etri repeated.

Koth looked at her for a long moment, before reluctantly replying. “…Yes. I have already initiated operation “Wilting Flower”. We will uncover Im’s role in all this”

The commander nodded, and turned to leave. As she stepped towards the door, she stopped. ‘You realize of course, that if Im does *not* have agents on board, then Atlantia is…”

“Dead, I know” Koth finished for her, although he did not like it, “We have gone to great lengths to get the assassin from multiple third party middlemen. He is under the impression that he is taking Atlantia’s life for a growing cult that believes our fall in the Demon war was due to Atlantia’s apparent loss of faith in the Gods. Many heads of the various denominations feel coldly towards Atlantia right now. It is not an unreasonable assumption that she would be targeted by a particularly fanatical group. And as we have gone to great lengths to hide our involvement…the assassin will be truly out to kill the Empress”

“How do you think Im will respond?” asked the commander.

Koth sat back down, “If he is forced to show his hand in this? We may have a fight on our hands. I hope it doesn’t come to that. If the Empress is killed however, then Im’s reason for being here will be gone”

“So, then…” Etri’s eyes shifted into a somewhat accusatory glare, “You really *are* planning on committing regicide”

“If it is for the good of our people”

Etri nodded again and stepped out, leaving Koth alone to reflect upon his sins.

***

The figure slipped through the station, undetected by security. Why would they? He had been unarmed when he came to the station from the planetoid below. His materials had all been shipped in on different flights, and none of them seemed potentially dangerous by themselves. And security was so light and disorganized these days that one could go just about anywhere in the station without being caught. He had realized this during his many treks through the base over the past two days since he had gotten in. All he had been waiting for had been the signal.

He had now received the signal.

The assassin pulled out a small pistol, and glanced around the corner of the empty hallway. He knew the Empress liked to move around in areas with few people, which worked perfectly for him. The Observation Lounges these days were particularly devoid of people.

And just as he suspected, as he turned the corner, he saw the Empress making her way towards the Lounge. This would be so easy it was hardly worth his time.

His pistol wasn’t a normal gun, which would make noise and alert the sensors to his whereabouts. Rather, it was more of a tranquilizer dart, only filled with a far more deadly poison. It wouldn’t matter if they found the dart, he would be long gone by that time.

He aimed…

There would be a shimmer of near-perceptible movement in front of the would be assassin. An outline, more than anything. The man's hand was twisted around to face his own chest and he was allowed a scant second to contemplate his fate, before Joa pulled the trigger.

Before the man even hit the deck, Joa was back at the Empress' shoulder and laid a hand on her. A whisper in her ear told her all she needed to know. "You were just targeted. Return to your quarters. Now."

As he released her, he activated a small device which sent out a high energy pulse. He knew his cover was blown. The pulse was to signal Im.

========

And Im happened to be on the bridge of the Archangel as the signal came in. "Damn. I had hoped to be on the station. Alert the Stalkers... I want three on Atlantia. And two tracking Koth."

He signaled Koth's personal comm unit a moment later. "You have proven a thorn in the side of progress too long, Admiral. Enjoy the next few minutes of your career."

He cut the comm off and looked at viewscreen. "Aenigma, are you ready to transmit?"

"Yes, Fleetlord.

"Do so. And put me onto every Atlantian view screen. All of them."

"You are on in three seconds."

Im counted down and leaned forward in his command seat as he appeared. "Greetings, people of Atlantis... You are all well aware of who I am and if you would stop cursing at your video screens for a few moments, I have some information to give you. Information that is vital to your people's continued existence. The Free Species Union has seen fit to place me as their liason to the Atlantean people while my flagship goes off to scour the galaxy for suitable colony worlds." he taps a screen and Admiral Koth's image appears, with his name under it for those that don't recognize him on sight. "This man is against our help, however. He is against the Empress returning to her throne. He believes I will be the death of Atlantis again. And he has good reason. I could have helped you prepare five years before the war and I did not. Instead I observed and studied. I refused to act. Now I am taking action. To save Atlantis from those that would see it remain on this backwater." A list of names scrolled across the screen. "This is a list of names of those present at a secret meeting Admiral Koth held shortly after the Union arrived. I must say your comm network is very dilligent and even managed to record the whole meeting somehow. I can only assume that it because one person there was planning on blackmailing the others. No matter." He hits a button and an audio message plays.

"We must decide what to do about it. We *cannot* let Atlantia take power"

"But what? Regicide is too risky." A pause. "What? You know you were all thinking about it."

"We're not killing the Empress. Not if we can help it."

Im tilted his head. "Not three minutes ago, Koth gave the order to kill Atlantia. Had I not prepared for this and had her guarded properly, she would be dead. Her would be assassin is dead instead. I have provided the Empress with the complete data files of this conference, complete with the original database matrix codes, as well as the Commander of Hope Station, the security forces on the planetoid and the security forces on the Station. I'm not an Atlantean, but I would suggest that these people be apprehended at the earliest possible opportunity for voice analysis." He pauses. "Some of you will see this as Admiral Koth does. As me pulling strings and using Atlantia as a puppet. In a way... I am. But my goals are your goals. To rebuild the Atlantean people into the strongest force they can possibly be. I cannot control your people, you see... I don't have the manpower for that. I have the ships to destroy you, oh yes... but destroying is far easier than controlling. To control requires people and the people who serve the Union have been culled to even smaller levels than your own population. We number just under three million people. I watched my own crew die in the final battles, after your people were knocked out of the fight. My ship was torn apart, my brothers and sisters in arms thrust into space. Only myself and my bridge crew managed to escape the ship. I have no family. My life was my crew. On that day, I lost everything."

He pauses, to give his words effect and to get a small verification from his comm officer that he was still being seen by the people. "Even now, I harbor the same fears you do. The same doubts you do. The same hatreds as you do. Towards not only the Demons, but towards myself. I could have helped you five years before I did. I could have assisted you in building a fleet of ships that could have fought off the Demons. I did not. I watched you instead. Kept tabs on you. Ignored what was right for the sake of my orders. And it cost you your civilization. I would apologize, but words cannot encompass my regret. Perhaps my actions this day will atone in some small way. For I could just sit by now. And watch you all die. And you would die, without the Union's help. That is assured... sooner or later the food would run out and you would tear each other apart. No more shall I sit by idly and watch. No more shall I study when I should act. I will not sit in my ship and brood over losses and unsurmountable odds. Instead, I shall surmount them! And so will you... even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming the whole damn way. I will not see your people suffer this indignity of an existence any longer than I must. Strength and honor, Atlantis." The feed ends abruptly and Im leans back.

Ransom stepped up to the command chair. "Damn you're good. You almost had me fooled." Im looked at her for a long moment, eyes narrowed. She blinked, realizing that for once in his life... he wasn't playing mind games.

As her door slid shut behind her, the empress let out a huge sigh of not quite relief as she knew this was far from over, but she was glad to be out of immediate danger. But…who could have sent it? She knew there were a few dissent groups, but she hadn’t figured herself high profile enough in recent months to justify an attack.

…Koth couldn’t have done it. Could he have? She and he hadn’t seen eye to eye recently, but they had once been good friends. No, it couldn’t have been him. She brushed her left hand through the strands of hair over her forehead. She was going to have to call Im, as Joa had surly informed his superior by now. She sat down at her desk. “Computer…” she said, in a very quiet tone, “Open a channel to—”

She was cut off by the computer beeping. For a split second she wondered if the station’s computer had suddenly gone psychic as the small viewscreen on her desk popped up--to reveal Im.

***

“That rat-bitten bastard”

Koth slammed his fist on his desk as Im made his speech, single-handedly stripping Koth of any hope he had of restoring the Atlantean people. Although Im could not see him, Koth was shaking with rage as the speech played out. He pressed a button on his desk, opening up a private audio channel with Etri.

“Commander, I assume you are watching this?”

“…Yes” came the reply, more then a little shaken, but she seemed to try to recover, “The portion of the committee on the planet is already taking precautions. They want us to evacuate”

Koth did not take his hate-filled eyes off the alien on his screen. “I want all security force squads mobilized. Inform both the bridge and the fleet to disregard that message. Im is our enemy, trying to divide us. He has fabricated evidence and is controlling our former monarch through unknown methods. They are to upgrade to code red, immediately”

“…Are we preparing for a fight?”

“You damn right we are”

“Do we have a chance against Union ships like that?”

Koth sighed. “It does not matter anymore. We are a dying breed. Im was right in one respect—we should not go out dying of hunger on a frozen planetoid” his voice started to become louder, more irrational. “We are a PROUD people. We will not sit idly by as he picks us apart. We may not survive the coming fight, but by the gods, we WILL go out in a blaze of glory! Open a channel, I will address my people directly”

A few seconds later, not more then a few moments after Im had completed his speech, Koth appeared on all of the screens in what little remained of the Atlantian Imperial Federation. His face was not just one of contorted rage, but also sheer desperation.

“My fellow Atlanteans. We have been lied to. We have been played for FOOLS. We have been exiled from our home, which in of itself is simply a REPLACEMENT. We are a lost people, forced to live without even a decent place to EXIST! Im has been a constant source of agony for us since this ordeal began! It is HE who led the Demons to us, and it is HE who is doing so again! We have confirmed proof that Demons have been sighted by both his forces and ours! And while he pretends to be our friend, he plans lies and deceptions into our minds, so that it is HE who controls us! But no longer! We shall not silently die off, but either go in a blaze of glory, or keep on GOING!”

He slammed his fist into the table, as if to emphasize his point. “He has deluded our former empress. Do not forget, it was not until Im revealed himself that the empress seemingly lost faith in our Gods! And so the Gods punished us! But now we know who our TRUE enemy is. And if we act now, we may redeem ourselves in the eyes of those who created us, and we will once again rise to prominence. Rise up, my fellow Atlanteans, one last time! So that we may either redeem ourselves, or end our suffering once and for all!”

“I have security forces on full alert, and sent detachments to maintain control of each ship and station’s vital locations, as a way to ensure that these alien’s brainwashing does NOT have its intended effect. If anyone defies orders, they are authorized to shoot on site, under the charge of high treason. This includes fellow security officers and squads. All ships and Hope Station are to be put on red alert, and to prepare themselves for the final battle. May we rise from our ashes like the Phoenix”

Moments later, one by one, each Atlantean vessel moved from yellow to red alert.

***

Atlantia sat at her desk in her darkened room, long after both Im and Koth had gotten their say. It had come down to this. Support Koth, and she would be supporting the man who tried to kill her, and she would be leading her people to death. Support Im, and she was a puppet, devoid of free will forever more. She glanced over at her bed, where a dragon was sleeping soundly.

She then glanced over to the other side of her, at a dresser with a mirror. On the top of the dresser was a reminder of her past. Of what had been taken from her. Of what had been a lie. A small necklace, shaped like a shield with an owl on it. A symbol of the house of Athena. Her royal lineage. She then looked straight up at her ceiling.

“I think I may have screwed up, Vega. And I think there may be no way out of it” Silence reigned through the room, until she spoke up again, still leaning back and looking up, speaking in a very soft voice. “But…why am I even talking to you? I know you can’t hear me. After all, this is it. No afterlife, huh? No gods to look over us. No difference between right and wrong”

She leaned forward, and looked down at the desk. “The Gods abandoned us. They were just aliens using us for experimentation. For canon fodder. So…perhaps it *is* better I decided to ‘make a deal with the devil’. Better to be a puppet willingly then unwillingly”

Atlantia stood up, and looked out the window behind her, at the small icey planetoid below. “No matter what it costs me. I will see my people happy again” she glanced back over at the small owl on the dresser. “And I don’t need your help anymore. I can do it myself”

She said it, and she believed it. She didn’t need them anymore. Gods were just a lie, a folly to be discarded.

…So then, why did she feel so completely hollow?

***
Many lightyears away

“Delta two, check your six! Check your si—AHH”

Another fightercraft exploded in a flurry of light as the battle raged. Twelve small tactical cruisers with their meager four-fighter escorts, verses three large Demon dreadnoughts and their support fleet.

Needless to say, the Atlanteans were outmatched.

The Destiny weaved in and out, evading fire as much as possible as it delivered its payload to the nearest Dreadnought. On the small bridge, Sing and Xol tried their damnedest to try and stay alive. Another enemy attack hit the ship, causing the bridge to shudder, and a random control console in the back to explode in a shower of sparks.

No witty banter this time. No good-natured jabs at each other or their other crewmembers. No complaining. They were too busy secretly wishing for a miracle.

One of the other crewmembers on the bridge spoke up, “We’ve lost the Eos! The Bifrost is moving in to compensate!” Not more then three seconds later, he spoke up again as another series of enemy attacks caused an earthquake on the bridge, “We’ve lost Alpha 3. We’re out of fighter support!”

“Shields are down to fifteen percent!” another crewmember reported, “Diverting power from life support to compensate”

“Don’t we sorta need that to, y’know, breath?”asked Xol, slightly irate as he let loose another volley of firepower onto the side of the center dreadnought, as they flew past.

“We lose the ship, we won’t have anything to breath anyway!” the crewmember replied.

“Point” Xol begrudgingly admitted.

***

Xolin opened up with another series of laser blasts at Seth as he closed in. They seemed to deflect off him harmlessly, almost like he was unearthly. Certainly, the full-body armor they currently wore was designed to protect them against almost anything—but likewise, the weapons they carried with the suit was designed to be able to combat the suits.

Yet, Seth wasn’t even flinching as he casually moved towards Xolin, laughing. He pressed a button on his hand blaster, and it quickly un-bended, and a blade extended out of the end of it. Seeing what he had done, Xolin did likewise with her weapon. Seth charged, and the two blades met.

Sid, kneeling from Seth’s attack on him seconds ago, shook his head as he watched Xolin and Seth duke it out. He wasn’t sure how he could beat Seth. Even now, he was getting the upperhand as he knocked Xolin into the wall after just a few blows. Sid got up, but was knocked back to the ground as the ship shook again under the intense battle going on outside. Sid took comfort in the fact that at least Seth had fallen over too.

…Giving Xolin a chance to strike back at him. As Seth stood back up, she roundhouse kicked him in the head, knocking him back a few feet, and followed it up with a punch to the gut. What she didn’t expect was that Seth grabbed her arm and twisted it, pulling her closer as he put her hand behind her back. Laughing, he then pushed her away, and opened up a volley of shots from his gun into her backside. Xolin landed on the floor, gasping. Yes, the suits provided protection—but no one was truly invincible.

Sid let loose a scream as he flew at Seth…who simply opened fire on Sid. The kinetics of the impacts sent Sid tumbling back into the desk of the ruined personal quarters.

“Too bad it has to be ended like this” Seth laughed, as he approached Sid, and converted his gun into its blade mode once more. “I really wanted to have fun with you like I did Sel and Coros. Pity”

At that instant, Seth felt a gun pressed up against his backside.

“Too fucking bad”

Several shots were fired into his back, but had a negligible effect. Seth just laughed as he turned to face his new opponent. The figure was clad in the same black armor as the others, but his had hints of green as opposed to the red and blue of Sid’s and Xolin’s. Seth grabbed Trok by the throat. “Don’t you people fucking GET IT? I am the prophet of death!”

***

“Shields are GONE. Ablative Armor’s taking a beating!”

“We’ve lost the Iris and the Defiant! Fighter wings have been eradicated! Heavy damage to the Phoenix, she’s pulling out to the edge of the fight…”

“We can’t die like this” Xol muttered under his breath, as another blast shook the bridge, taking out two more consoles behind them. Steam began coming out of a crack in the wall.

Another crewmember’s face paled as she read her screen. “…I have…twenty-two vessels on my scanners…closing in fast…”

Xol closed his eyes for a moment, even as the ship shook around him. This was it. They weren’t making it out of here alive.

“We’ve lost the Salvation!”

Another explosion behind him.

“Hull breach on deck three!”

Xol glanced over at his wife next to him. Sing looked back over at him, both of them saying nothing. Their hands, however, found each other and grasped tightly, saying far more then any words could.

“Incoming warp signatures! Here they come!”

Sure enough, in a flash of light, a small fleet of vessels poured into the fight.

…Except that they weren’t Demon. As the entire bridge crew stared dumbfounded, twenty-two Atlantean warships rushed into the fray, giving the battered tactical cruisers the break they needed.

“…The Atlantean warp trail we tracked…” Sing said blankly, before laughing.

***

Seth tossed Trok aside, into a wall, still laughing. Suddenly, his laughing ceased, as if he had suddenly gotten new information about his situation.

“…It seems I must report to my superiors now. Ta’”

With that, the deranged man aimed at the bulkhead, and opened fire with a few shots, until he initiated a hull breach, and jumped out, vanishing as he was transported away. A forcefield came on quickly, preventing the continuing loss of air in the room.

“Well, that was…fun…” Sid grimaced, ignoring his wounds as he stood up and deactivated his suit, vanishing in a flash of light. Xolin and Trok did likewise.

“Sid” came a call through his personal communicator, preventing any further discussion.

“What’s up, Xol?”

“The Demons are retreating. We don’t know why, exactly. We got ourselves a few reinforcements, but they usually don’t retreat like this”

Sid nodded as he spoke into the communicator. “They also didn’t have most of their forced wiped out the last time we fought them. Besides, they got their prize”

“…Pardon?”

“Nevermind, I’ll explain later”

Xol seemed to change gears. “Also…I think you should get up here, we’re getting a really *interesting* message from Im”

The three looked at each other oddly, before making for the bridge.

"Report." Im asked calmly, watching the scene play out.

The response was what he expected. "Every Atlantean ship is at combat ready status. Sir... they wouldn't dare attack the Archangel, would they? We've taken out a Node on our own!"

"No, Lieutenant, they won't do that. And... if I am wrong and they DO try something like that, let them. The Titans couldn't kill this ship, the Atlanteans have no chance. If they attack, simply raise all shields and ride it out. No return of fire. Just sit there and take the assault." With all ten layers of shields and thick armor, the crew had very little fear of the Atlanteans. Instead the officer's concern was, rightly, for the Atlanteans.

Im looked at Ransom. "How are the Stalkers? Any discovered?"

"No sir, they are still tracking Koth and Atlantia."

"Good."

===========

Im opened a channel to the Atlanteans. With such a powerful signal the Station couldn't hope to drown it out. "I have to compliment you, Admiral... that was a very, very passionate speech. You almost had me believing it. Of course, I know the WHOLE truth.

"Even now, I see confusion in your ranks. This has caught everyone off guard. After all, it doesn't make sense. I led the Demons to you? Please, Koth. They knew where Cirrus was ever since that trapped Demon fleet escaped. Remember that? Remember when they annihilated the Zoir under your noses? Was that my fault as well? Did I lead the Demons to their most hated of foes in the galaxy? No... they already knew where to find you. They were just waiting to amass the forces needed to crush you. Oh, I was in the galaxy, yes. I was observing, as I said. Following my orders to watch and study."

He took a seat in the command chair and leaned back slowly. "And now you blame it all on little old me. I'm flattered, really. But it makes no sense. Nor does the fact that you have a rag-tag fleet ready to take on a ship that can lay waste to a small continent inside an hour. Now, why don't you all come to your senses, take a good look around and realize who is REALLY keeping you on this god-forsaken icy ball of nothing."

"Is it Koth, who offers you a fight against me to re-assert yourselves in the galaxy... a fight that would see you all die, if I responded in kind... or is it me, who has given you the square meal you just ate and has his fleet scouring the galaxy in search of a new homeworld for you when I could just as easily walk away and leave you all to kill each other off? I'll give you three hours to reply. And I'll answer each one personally, even if you all wish to call me up one at a time and curse me for ten straight minutes each. I await your answers... Strength and honor." The transmission cuts off.

Im smiled. "The best part of all this is, I'm finally the one that's got the moral high-ground. I just have to convince them that Koth doesn't."

====

Three Stalkers stepped from a computer bay, with five memory modules in their possession. These contained the whole conference and several spectrums of scans taken of the room. One which revealed the identity of all present easily.

In a nearby comm center, three techs were easily overpowered and knocked cold. A priority signal was sent to all Atlantean ships in the area, dumping the contents of the modules at their AIs. Now they had all the information they needed. The full conference and a full list of those present. And all of it was 100% authentic.

The Stalkers quickly left and vanished into the background of the station.

====


Green fields... deep blue oceans... puffy white clouds... It was almost like Earth. Almost like Cirrus. Almost.

This one had only one ship in orbit. It was the Union Light Cruiser Greece. As the ship scanned the surface, it found four major things that made the planet interesting. It was much more stable in axis than Earth, thanks to a twin dead planet (which was close enough to cause some enormous tides), it had an acceptable atmosphere, was was roughly 1/8 smaller than Earth and it's gravity was .72 G.

In other words, perfect for the Atlanteans. The planet was marked and the ship leapt away, towards what it's long range probes told it was a Demon related battle. The ship would emerge less than an hour later, facing an impressive force of Atlantean ships.

Atlantean forces... this is the Union light cruiser Greece. I believe we may have found a planet you would find very appealing.

An eternity seemed to pass as Atlantia stood in front of the window in her quarters, seemingly lost in thought as she rested her head on the window. Her hand clutched at the glass-like substance that protected her from the endless void in front of her, as she stared at the small icey planetoid that the station orbited.

Silently, she moved from her spot at the window, and walked over towards her dresser, momentarily pausing to look at the necklace resting there, before she began searching through the top drawer. It didn't take long, as she had made sure to place what she had been looking for in a safe place. She pulled out a small box, and opened it. Still silent, she left the box on the counter of her dresser, and moved back over to her desk. On her forehead, she had placed her tiara.

She took a deep breath. Then she reached for a drawer in her desk, and took out a small pistol inside, and placed it on the edge of the desk.

"Computer" she whispered, "Open a channel. Open all of them" She took another breath, this one a bit more shaky. "I want everyone to hear this"

A small screen popped up in front of her on her desk as she sat down. A small beep confirmed that she had just gone live. Atlantia inwardly summoned all of her courage to do this. She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes as she began to speak.

"This is Empress Atlantia of the Imperial Federation. I am hereby assuming command of the entirety of the Atlantean civilian and military forces. I am also stripping Admiral Koth of his rank and all duties and privileges entitled to said rank. He is to be apprehended for crimes against this state. I am *also* ordering that all forces stand down. Do NOT engage union forces or otherwise. If you persist on following Koth, it will be regarded as high treason and acted upon as such. I repeat, you will all stand down"

***

Koth's reign was crumbling all around him. Im was continuing to outwit him, full recordings of the meeting had gotten out to everyone, and worst of all--the Empress was taking a stand.

"Damn it all" he muttered to himself. Outside he could hear the faint cries of a firefight. He gathered that a group of security officers were on their way to arrest him, but were being held up by some of his supporters. As such, it was far too dangerous to make his way to the bridge of the base to command his assault personally. He would have to make due here. He opened a com channel to Commander Etri.

"Commander, are you ready?"

"Yes sir, we are prepared. Weapons are fully charged"

"Then open fire"

Koth could almost feel the station preparing to fire, until--

"Sir, we've lost power to weapons!"

"Excuse me?!"

"They've just gone offline! Someone must have cut the power to them!"

"Well, get the power back on!"

"Sir, if I may...if we initiate lockdown mode, we might be able to cutdown on enemy activity on the base"

Koth growled, flustered that he hadn’t already ordered that. "Then do that! Whatever! And have a team find the Empress, and have her eliminated, once and for all! I don't care what it takes anymore. Just get it done!"

Outside, as the insides of the station began to close down into small compartments divided by metal walls and force fields, the rag-tag Atlantean fleet seemed unsure. They sat there, unmoving. None of them seemed to be ready to follow Atlantia, as each of them kept weapons hot, but none of them seemed to be ready to follow Koth to their deaths either.

***

"...you intentionally lured the Demons here?" Sid's left eyebrow arched as he folded his arms in amusement. His body ached from the previous fight with Seth, but Sid had more to do then get some brusing looked at. Or gashes. Or blaster wounds. He’d live. After all, one of the power suit’s functions was to act as a giant bullet-proof vest. He had had some protection.

The commander of the Mjolnir smiled and leaned back in his chair on the Destiny’s viewscreen, evidently very proud of himself. In appearance, he was in his late 30’s, although with Atlanteans, that usually meant a bit older. “Yeah, we caught wind of them in a star cluster about five weeks ago, only a few lightyears from here. They were after us, and there were more of them then us, so we decided to high-tail it to this red-dwarf system. It’s a flare star, so the interference in scanners and com systems allowed us some protection. Since then we’ve been baiting them and slowly whittling down their numbers”

“Guerrilla warefare” Sid replied.

“Pretty much. We go in for quick strikes and retreat before they can react properly. We’ve taken down two dreadnaughts and a node that way already”

“…a node?”

“A node’s advantage comes from being a fleet supporter. Take away the docked fleet, and its no more powerful then a dreadnought. As such, we treated it as such, drawing it away from any support and then swarming it and striking with guerilla tactics. Took awhile, but since its com systems couldn’t reach the other Demon forces, we were successfully able to isolate it”

Sid chuckled, “Damn, you guys are good” his smile vanished slightly, “You’re also the first fleet we’ve spotted other then our own back at Sol”

“We’ve collected a few stragglers” the other commander replied, “But yeah, pickings are slim”

“How many?” asked Sid.

The commander stopped for a minute to mentally count up his force’s size, “Well…lessee…there’s the twenty-something fleet I got right here, and I know the commander of the Hydra has a small handful of cruisers and destroyers with him inside the orbit of the innermost planet…and the bulk of the civilian carriers, cargoships, and other non-combat vessels are hiding in the shadow of the brown dwarf at the rim of the system. They’ve got a small fleet of about ten-something ships guarding them at all times”

“Ah, good. The more the marrier”

The other commander grinned, “And you guys got those new-fangled ships too, don’t you? Those Destiny-class som-bitches. I had heard rumors before the end of the war, I didn’t think any had actually come off the assembly lines though”

“Sid” Sing spoke up, spinning her chair around to glance at her commander, “I’m…not sure, but I think another ship is coming in. I can’t tell for certain though, the star’s flares are interfering”

Sid’s face became very serious, as did the other commander’s on the viewscreen. “Demons?”

“No…I don’t think…wait, here it comes”

Seconds later, a new ship lept back into normal space. And to everyone’s relief, it *wasn’t* a Demon ship.

“Atlantean forces... this is the Union light cruiser Greece. I believe we may have found a planet you would find very appealing.”

Sid smiled again, “Score. Open a channel”

A small beep confirmed he was on. “Greece, this is Commander Sid of the AIV Destiny. Please, do tell”

Im leaned back in his chair as Atlantia appeared on screen and smiled just a bit. "Good. She's finally listening to reason." he mutters.

-----

On the station, several Stalkers looked at each other. To the station, they could not be seen... but they could see each other. There were three of them who were moving away from sabotaging part of the power systems and now met an emergency bulkhead slamming down in front of them as internal security systems started to take measures against them.

They communicated silently, using hand signals. One signaled amusement that it took so long for the systems to be activated. On a normal base, with a sane leader it would have probably taken a quarter that time.

The damage they actually did was zero, which was the best type. They worked inside the system and convinced the main computer that the weapon's power system was feeding power back into itself instead of to the weapons. Of course, it initiated an automatic shutdown to keep the whole thing from overloading and taking out half a dozen assorted systems.

Now though... now they were trapped. And unless ordered to do something by Im, they were going to find an out of the way place to sit and wait.


====


The man that appeared on the Destiny's screen was not a pretty one to look at. Not with the ragged scar which wrapped around his right eye, nor the fact he was missing his entire right arm. No one could say he never felt the pain of his men during the war... He stood and stepped towards the screen. "Commander Sid, I am Commander Aton. I... was not expecting so many of your ships. No matter, my news is for all of you. There is a suitable world three systems Coreward from here. The exact coordinates are being relayed to you now. It's a twin system, much like Terra, though the lunar body has more mass and the Earth body less. And they're half the distance from each other that Earth and Luna are. Gravity is .72 Terran and that lunar body is giving the planet one hell of a tidal system. The only drawback is the landmasses... they're only 18% of the planet. And most in scattered island chains. There's only two medium sized continents. Luckily they're both temperate, more or less." He paused. "It's not going to sustain you indefinitely, but it's a start."

A scant moment later, another ship emerged into realspace. This one a mean looking assault ship. It wasn't the nice, all around ship the cruiser was. It was coming in with all weapon's armed and shields up. As it oriented itself and came around, it scanned the system. Slowly it powered down the weapons and shields. A simple text only message was sent. Dammit, Atlanteans... did you have to destroy ALL the Demons before we got here? Now we just look silly.

On the Destiny's screen, Aton chuckled as the message was relayed to him by another officer. "That would be Shiplord Brenteen in the Athena." Odd, a Union ship named after a 'God'.

Work continued along at its zooming pace, uninterrupted and undisturbed in the sanctity of one of the station's multiple docking bays. Kent had been able to secure living quarters from his Atlantean counterpart - a spartan barracks along with four adjoining officers' rooms. Nobody on either side of the Templar's security checkpoint had yet complained or attempted to force the issue on whether Godwin and his men could really keep people out of or in the bay if they so desired. And Gideon had his engineering corps back on schedule without much delay at all; the transference to Hope Station had only been a minor inconvenience that set back their repairs an hour, which meant that Esper-3 was easily under a half day from joining the "fleet".

Once he had his crew leaders organized and in the thick of it repairing the damaged fighters, Gideon was not going to stay around long. He had already spent countless hours working on what was probably every one of the thousands of parts making up an Esper and there would be plenty of time for more fiddling later - they still had a weeks worth of work to do before all ten would be battle ready again. And as the boss of the engineering corps, Gideon could take his leave of the repairs when and for how long he wished. Notably, at the present moment and until he got back. There was no way he was going to be docked at the same station as thousands of Atlanteans, the Empress amongst them, and not fill his brimming curiosity. Of course there were the little things about the station that peaked the interest of a mind as great as his, but he already had the Atlantean's database and there would be time to sift through it later - after the AI scanned it all, that is. Instead, now amidst the Atlantean camp, the major questions of shared genetic heritage, historical advancement, and connections to be made occupied his thought process.

While most of his thoughts were still devoted to the information he hoped to glean in the coming hours, he activated his Temple-Visor and brought a layout of the station on screen. A green route was highlighted from his present location in a docking bay along the shortest path to the Empress' room. Hopefully, he thought, there won't be any checkpoints to stop me from getting there. Though considering the state of affairs around here, I doubt I'll have much trouble.

"Hold!" A voice said loudly enough to penetrate the metaphorical thought bubble surrounding Gideon. As his vision shifted from his visor to the path ahead of him, he caught sight of an armored hand no more than six inches from his face. "Commander's orders. Destination?" The soldier asked as he scanned a patch on the breast of Gideon's suit with a little laser-emitting device.

"I'm off to see the wizard...ress... err, the Empress," the mechanic responded awkwardly. His position in terms of rank was a strange one. He had been part civilian part enlisted man, but once the civilian ninety-nine hundredths of the population became space dust, he really was just all soldier. And while his rank was higher than most of the other survivors, his place as a grease monkey - even an Einstein grease monkey - made giving and taking orders a bit odd. "Figured I could use this time to see if the Empress was available for a little one-on-one sit down."

The Marine seemed to nod briefly as he entered presumably Gideon's purported destination into the data-log. He dropped his hand to allow the mechanic to pass, but as Gideon took a step past the Marine grabbed him by the upper arm - something had caught his eye. When his cloak swished backwards, it was revealed that he was inadequately equipped. "You heard the Commander," the Marine said. "Nobody is to be without their arm, especially outside the containment area."

Gideon's eyes shifted from the door flanked by two imposing looking Marines hauling heavy weaponry to where the Marine Guard gripping his arm was glancing. "Yeah, about that..." he began to reply as he looked over the his hip mounted holster. It was not empty, and in fact it had what looked very similar to a weapon in its metallic grip. "I don't very much like carrying that thing with me. I find my hands to be much more comfortable when they're gripping my laser cutter instead." He tapped the holster to indicate his firearm's replacement.

"Sir, I really must insist-"

The moment he had indicated rank and respect by calling him 'sir,' the battle was lost. "Not gonna happen. This baby doesn't leave my side. Besides, you don't want me aiming my weapon... really." The laser cutter was a useful tool, though it required careful and delicate use much like a weapon or something could go wrong. In fact, it could be wielded as a weapon at very close ranges if in desperate straits. Gideon was quite surprised that the Marine even noticed that it had taken the place of a sidearm as it was shaped like that of a firearm and its handle, most of the visible part over the holster, was nearly identical. Most likely, none other than a Templar would know it wasn't a weapon without careful inspection or a demonstration of its use... and even then.

The Marine stared at him for a moment, lock jawed and without saying anything. Finally he released his grip on Gideon's arm and raised his hand to a salute. "Travel safe, sir." The mechanic gave the man a wink in response and then passed through the doorway into the station's corridors. Now, he pondered, where is that throne room, though he knew perfectly well where the room was as an indicator was blinking on his Temple-Visor and the path was laid out before him.

As he walked the long and winding corridors of Hope Station, there seemed to be a slight ruckus stirring. However, in his usually cerebrally entranced state, he paid it little notice if it even penetrated his thick skull at all. Instead, he just kept on walking until finally his ear piece beeped to inform him that the door on his left was in fact his destination. Unbeknownst to him, she had just finished giving a speech to her people, reclaiming her crown.

Knock, knock.

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

Back in the docking bay, the crew continued their never-ending work. Armina, finally able to rest, was taking the moment of calmness to relax in the comforts of her command chair in Esper-1. Neither she nor the rest of the dutifully laboring crew were aware of the progressing situation aboard Hope Station and in the vicinity of near-space. There were no telescreens in their bay and their own equipment was either turned off for repairs or to save energy when unneeded.

"Commander, this Esper Four, please respond." A moment of crackling revealed no answer. "Commander, this Esper Four, please respond." Twice more the request was repeated until Armina had been stirred from her briefest of escapes.

"Go ahead Esper Four, this is the Commander." She wondered how long she had been out.

"I think you should see this... Sending transmission." There was nothing else needed to say... there was nothing else to say. Esper-4 bounced the signals to Esper-1 that Im and Koth had just sent out across near-space. Their effective declarations of war upon each other.

"Shit..." she said before even getting even halfway through the second video. She asked rhetorically, "Tell me again why we chose an orbital station over a heavily fortified warship to dock in?

"Ma'am...?"

"Nothing." Her mind was quickly processing the situation. If something was about to go down, she would have to act fast to save the last of her people. "Buzz Im."

"Yes, ma'am." The connection ended as Esper-4 broke off and prepared to rally with Esper-9.

The two fighters were performing CAP duties in spherical shells around Hope Station, meaning they were always as far from another in the orbit as possible. It would take a moment for them to rendezvous, but only a very brief moment.

Soon they had formed up on one another's wing and were head for Im's command ship. They buzzed right past the bridge of the ship - a safe distance away to be sure, but close enough that it was obvious that their appearance there was no accident or coincidence. After buzzing it they turned around and flew back again to buzz it once more. This time they transmitted a signal to the Union ship:

"Warning. There are Templars aboard Hope Station. We are locking down all personnel in Docking Bay 7. Any attack on the station that results in direct or indirect harm to a Templar will be considered an act of war and we will defend ourselves. I repeat, engaging Hope Station may result in open war."

To ignorant viewer the scene might have been comical, a pair of oversized fighters telling a heavy battleship and whole fleet to be careful how they act, but to one who knows the capabilities of an Esper, the scales were not quite as insane as they seemed. No doubt the fleet would still triumph easily, but it would be prudent to keep in mind that the Espers were a once powerful people's greatest weapons in the war against the Daemons. They would have been the coup de grâce had the plan not gone awry, but nonetheless they were still capable of taking down even the mighty nodes.

"Fleetlord... the Templars just buzzed us."

Im looked up from a report and arched an eyebrow at his former first officer. "Come again?"

"They did a close pass and... are now warning us that attacking Hope Station would mean war with them." She tried to keep amusement out of her voice and almost succeeded.

Im sighed and signaled for a channel to be opened to the system as a whole. "Templars... if you would note that the Archangel's shields and weapons are powered down, you might realize I have no intention of assaulting the Atlantean station. If I had, it would already be spinning debris. And... no offense... but this gunship has been in combat that has seen armada's destroyed and only suffered light armor damage. I fail to see how you are a threat to the well being of my crew. In any case, I reiterate the fact that I do not wish harm to the Atlanteans. Nor the Templars. My only goal is to see the Atlantean Republic rebuilt. To do so, I had to remove the largest threat to the Republic... Admiral Koth and his treasonous conspirators."

After ordering the CAP Espers to buzz the Union, Armina hopped out of her seat and dashed for the door of her ship. "Godwin. Godwin!" she cried as she looked from one of the docking bay's entrance to the next. It was hard to distinguish the Marine Guards from one another with their armor and helms on, though had she merely looked to her Temple-Visor the process could've been much quicker. As she called his name, a light began blinking at the right-forward entrance on the docking bay layout, but it was his step forward that alerted her to his location.

"Godwin," she called again as she strode with purpose towards his direction. The man saluted, though she mostly ignored it. "Lock it down."

"Alright boys," Godwin replied as he touched his ear and began to turn around. "You heard the lady. Commence lockdown. Nobody in or out. Weapons off-lock." At all four entrances the Marines nodded as their fingers disengaged the safety lock on their weapons. They had connected their own command devices to the doors that overrode the commands and jammed any other signals. Each pair of door guards simultaneously entered their codes on both sides and the doors slammed shut and locked - none but they could reopen them... and they had their orders. "Ma'am?"

"Just stay alert," she half-mumbled, half-barked as she turned on her heel and marched back to her ship.

So much for a nap- Her thought was interrupted by a beeping in her ear.

"Commander, we've received a reply from the Union command ship. Patching it through."

"Open a direct line," Armina ordered upon listening to Im's response.

"Connected."

"Fleetlord, our warning was simply a warning and nothing more. You will of course understand when a race of people is dwindled from trillions to fifty that those survivors become a bit edgy and not prone to taking any chances. I know not your intention nor that of anybody else in near-space. I simply know of the destabilization you initiated with your message and whether you like it or not, such as put my men in danger. And try not to sound so haughty next time. You have killed nodes with your ships and so I have done the same. The difference is that I wasn't arrogant enough to proclaim myself the savior of humanity and my enemy extinct. I don't doubt your fleet would be enough to take down mine, but the question is what you would be willing to lose in such a battle, for your losses would number the stars compared to mine. Again, just a friendly reminder." The connection ended.

Unaware that Kent was standing in the doorway behind her, having seen her storming across the bay, Armina fell heavily back in her seat. "Bravo," the man said in his charming accent accompanying it with a trio of claps. "Look on the bright side, perhaps the Atlanteans will be more receptive to us if Atlantea triumphs in this little insurrection. Koth wasn't the most willing to aid us or even talk trade-offs."

"Yeah... it's hard to know..."

Sid inwardly cringed at Commander Aton’s appearance---most notably, the missing limb. That had to have hurt.

Regardless, that wasn’t what had Sid’s attention. Rather, the system information was what he was interested in. As the man spoke, Sid walked over to the navigation console Sing was sitting at, and glanced over at the coordinates that had downloaded themselves onto the screen. It was one of the ones on the list they hadn’t been to yet. That gave him hope that perhaps some of the other remaining choices were still untouched by Demon vessels.

However, his optimism faded somewhat by the downside of the planet’s features. Very little living space, and ferocious tides over what little land there was (most of it being islands, making it an even bigger problem). Like Aton had said, it wasn’t a good long-term choice. But it WAS a choice.

“There’s another ship coming in” Sing stated, as she watched a new dot appear on the map of the system they were currently in. Or rather, the area around the planet they were near, since a map of the full system was utterly useless thanks to the flare star.

Xol spoke up, “Aaaand they’re sending a message. Text only”

“What does it say?” asked Sid. Xol recited the message. When he finished, Sid heard Aton chuckle, and explain. A mere second after he had, another person appeared on the screen for both the Destiny and the Greece, the commander of the Mjolnir.

“Tell him not to worry” the other commander replied abrubtly, “There are plenty more in this system. We only chased ‘em off for a bit. We’ve been playing a game of hide and seek with these bastards for the last month and a half. Until just now we thought we were the only survivors of the Atlantean fleet”

Sid, meanwhile, was simply going over the information that had just been supplied to them again, while the Moljnir’s commander made friendly with Aton and Brenteen. But as he did, he couldn’t help but wonder about the naming system on the Union ships. Greece and Athena. Perhaps they were a lasting relic from their former leaders pretending to be gods, like Hades. But then one simply had to wonder…why had they been centering their entire culture around pretending to be somebody’s god pantheon?

***

The Empress stood silently still at her desk for about ten seconds, listening to the quiet outside. She was trying to get any sort of idea as to what kind of crazy her speech had just wrought. As if right on cue, the dull sound of a weapon hitting some wall down the hallway sounded, muffled by the numerous bulkheads in between. Obviously two two forces—either security or officers, were duking it not all that far away. Probably one of them were trying to get to her. She sighed.

“Of course it wouldn’t be that simple”

Atlantia grabbed the pistol she had set down next to her, and slowly, but with determination, made her way to the door of her room. She wasn’t certain what she was going to do from here—she didn’t know which forces were where and which ones she could trust. The only real idea she had was to go after Koth himself---who was stuck in his ready room, right next to the station ops. An area sure to be swarming with security forces on both sides. She supposed she was just about to see how rusty her combat skills had gotten since being on the Olympia’s security force back during the civil war.

Knock, knock.

Her heart skipped a beat, as it did every time she was about to go into armed combat. For some reason, piloting a ship seemed safer. The action, no matter how much shit was falling from the ceiling above you, seemed more distant. Like playing a video game. Except your opponent actually wanted you dead. She took a deep breath.

“Computer” she said in a low voice, aiming her pistol at the door as her aiming instincts came back to her, the weapon not more then a few millimeters from the surface, and she hoped to…well, hoped to if a god DID exist, that she was aiming at her opponent’s head through the door, “Open the door on my mark”

She counted to herself silently. 1. 2. 3. 4.

…5

“Mark!” she shouted, and the door slammed open, with the Empress pointing the front end of her weapon at Gideon, prepared to unleash an unholy holocaust.

***

Hope Station’s ops was already an unholy holocaust. Most of the bridge crew was dead, and those few who were still alive were hiding wherever they could as two groups of security forces were aiming at and killing each other. Dead bodies littered the floor, their blood forming pools where they lie. Behind one of the consoles, Koth was crouched, waiting for a good time for his next strike. He had already taken two soldiers down, to hell if he was going to quit now. The admiral looked over to his right, where the broken body of Commander Etri lay, still as dirt, with the familiar crimson circle that had surrounded the ground she was laying on.

He shook his head in disgust. Too many lives were being sacrificed to Im’s ambition. Koth would see personally to the alien’s execution.

***

Outside, the situation with the Atlantean fleet seemed to be changing somewhat. The fact that Im’s ship wasn’t even powering up shields to defend itself seemed to be a deciding factor for some of the ships, as their crew knew the ship’s capabilities and thus knew they wouldn’t survive a fight. It either wasn’t worth it, or some of them were actually willing to follow Atlantia.

However, not all of the ships were ready to call it quits…

***

“…the Argo, the Sobek, and the Heliopolis are also standing down. And I’m getting reports that…yes, the Utukku is standing down too…”

“What are these people doing!?” the commander of the Atlas seethed. “Have they completely lost their minds?! We have a hostile warship on our frontdoor!”

“Their shields are down, sir”

“Yet Im is circumnavigating our chain of command. He has NO right to interfere with our governmental structure. He is an unlawful influence, and must be treated accordingly. Or have you all forgotten what this war of his has cost us!?”

The bridge crew looked at each other, still unsure, but also slightly ashamed at what their commander had just said, and slightly angry at the entire situation.

“Bring us about!” the commander ordered, “Have all ships who aren’t traitors to our cause follow us in. When we’re within weapon’s range….open fire”

I’ll see you in Hades, Im, the commander thought, as the Union warship drew closer on the viewscreen, And then I’ll see my wife and baby girl again.

The Atlas, along with about six other ships of light and heavy cruiser type, moved in, weapons hot. As soon as they were on top of the Union force, they opened fire…

…Only to be struck down by their own in return. Four other ships had moved in behind them, and were now targeting the engines and weapons of the Atlas and her allies. A couple hits to Im’s ship, and the ‘battle’, if it could be called that, between the Atlantean and Union forces was over---now it was a (yet another) full blown Atlantean civil war as the two sides slammed their weapons into the sides of each other---all the while the rest of the Atlantean fleet sat a short distance back, stunned at the developments.

Im watched the Atlantean ships close. "Ransom, tactical analysis. Now."

"They are warships, but most are not large enough to dent our armor. The heavy cruisers can, however. I suggest raising our hull huggers."

"Will they breach the armor on the initial pass?" Im asked, narrowing his eyes as he saw more ships come around behind the attackers.

"No, sir."

"Then let the shields stay down..."

The giant ship barely even moved as weapons fire impacted the hull. As the flares faded, there was some light damage to the areas that the cruisers attacked, but only discoloration where any smaller ships struck.

"They're killing each other. Raise all shields, power all weaponse and move us in."

---

The immense ship suddenly awoke from it's slumber and sensors across the area would start flashing alerts as the Archangel powered nearly a thousand weapons and ten layers of shields... then started to move it's way into the battle...

And came to a stop right in the center of it.

Im appeared on the Atlantean screens again, looking livid. "CEASE THIS MADNESS! You people are a shadow of your former selves and you STILL wish to kill each other? DO YOU WANT YOUR CIVILIZATION TO DIE?!" Im's crew could be seen to be almost cringing in the background. They were well aware of his outbursts. "I will give you all one Terran minute to cease all weapons fire, or I will disable ALL your vessels and leave you here to ROT!" the message cuts out and the Atlantean sensors would report that the Archangel was targeting every ship that was engaged in combat... and several that weren't.

==========

Commander Aton's image was replaced with the image of a woman of Im's species. The transition was so smooth that it appeared for half a second that this new face had a Terran's head coming out of her shoulder.

Standing, she nodded to the Atlanteans. "I am Shiplord Brenteen, of the Athena. I am pleased to see more of the Atlantean Navy is intact. In a few moments, my ship's AI will send you information updating you on the Republic's situation." She pauses and looks away as someone speaks to her offscreen. She looks back. "And apparently there is a power struggle going on for control of what is left of your nation. Empress Atlantia and Admiral Koth are both trying to take the throne. I have no reports on how they are doing this though... whether through words or through weapons."

===========

As the door came open and Atlantia was revealed, her aim was suddenly lifted towards the ceiling and a voice spoke from nowhere. "He is a Templar. They are not classed as a threat, Empress." As her arm was released, there was a shimmer of an outline of someone very large along the bulkhead... then it was gone.

Well, this should make Gideon feel at ease... an armed empress and an invisible bodyguard.

Inside Esper-1, the cockpit had taken on the appearance of a battle command station. The lights had turned an eerie shade of red that bathed the room in a bloody stain while blue and green lights lit the screens and control panels where the Templars sat buzzing away. The Templar Commander sat in the center of the room away from any gadgets, but her Temple-Visor and crew kept her fully apprised of the situation.

"Ma'am! The Atlantean ship Atlas has gone weapons hot." He touched his ear for a moment as if to confirm something with the computer. "They are firing up weapons and engaging the Union base ship." Again he paused as more information streamed in. "Six more are joining it. Seven ships are forming up in battle lines- Wait... wait a moment." A third pause - such was the way with battle, ever evolving situations and changing odds as one more pawn came into play. "Four more entering the fray-"

"Christ. The whole fleet is lining up to take shots at Im."

"No, ma'am!" a voice from the opposing seat intruded.

"No?" she asked in a slightly surprised and confused tone of voice.

"No. Half the fleet is staying out of it. The other half we are scanning half begun engaging one another. It seems like some of the commanders disagree with the Atlas's decision to engage Im."

"Well isn't just dandy now. A bloody civil war raging out there, a looming giant sitting next door, and our boys flying around there in harms way as we sit locked in here... in harms way." Clearly Armina was happy with the situation. The days of helplessness and hopelessness had been building up on her to the point where she just wanted to fire off a few rounds at a live target. "Where are our boys?"

"War quadrant six-zero," the Esper contact operator reported. It was a battle zone technique of determining locale based on relative location to ground zero of battle. An imaginary multi-dimensional grid that one could easily apply to any situation so long as you knew where the shots were ringing out around. "Half a click each way to battle lines."

She closed her eyes as she often did when in deep contemplation. Now was a moment of choice. One of those precious and delicate opportunities to have a dramatic effect on which future would be reality and which would only be past possibility. But no decision such as this was ever so simple - there were a thousand variables, constantly changing, and never certain. Which sides, which course of action, which future...

"Show of force..." she whispered to herself quietly, though in the silence of the reddened cockpit, even a whisper was a mighty roar.

"Ma'am?"

She did not need to glance up to glean any details from the starmap or scrolling database of fleet information. Everything was already laid out before her as she leaned heavily on her knees and bowed her head. There was only one prudent way in this situation to show everyone that they meant business, and she did mean everyone: Atlantia, Koth, Im... even her own Templars.

"Open a line to our boys. Copy the following. Breach of Peace detected. Commander confirming... code Alpha, Delta, One, Deuce, Eight, Niner, Niner, Five. Danger-line has been breached. Weapons free authorization. Return fire at will. Direct order incoming..." The room was silent as the two Espers flying near the battle zone confirmed the transmission and awaited the incoming order. Everyone waited in hesitant, curious, and nervous silence.

Then the order came like hammer to anvil. "Destroy the Atlas."

And then deafening silence fell over silence. None could believe her words. Even the pilots waited to respond as only the crackling of the transmission could be heard... but not heard at all. "Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" Only then as the pilots gave the verbal salute of confirmation did the rest of the command crew really hear the order she had given. They stood in shock and disbelief. Only one stood against her.

"Ma'am. Beyond being out of left field and perhaps not the most strategic decision at present time what with the fleets crashing around us, you don't have that authority." The noble-hearted and strong-virtued armored form of the fleet's Executive Officer, Gideon, stood in the war room's portalway. "We have not declared war nor have the proper rules of engagement been met. A dilatory strike to preempt an enemy is one thing, but this is annihilation we are talking about-"

"Gideon, that is enough," the Commander said very calmly without moving her eyes from the gray floor beneath her spiked boots.

"No, ma'am. You must order back the attack. You have overstepped the boundaries of decency, morality, and Templicity." More stunned silence filled the room as Godwin's voice was the only sound to be heard. More so than their disbelief of Armina's order, they could not belief Godwin's response or sudden backbone to stand up to her. Few did so anyway, but never before had they seen this particular man take a stand against the commander he had loyally served for the past twelve years. "You are operating outside the bounds of your authority as a member of the Templar Fleet and are breaking the Warrior's Code. This attack will be considered a distinct declaration of war without warning-"

"GOD DAMN'T GODWIN," Armina screamed in a sudden and startling leap to her feet. Godwin was tall and sturdily built, but in her heels and arching position, it was Armina that looked the part of the pouncing lioness. "WE'RE AT FUCKING WAR ALREADY. WE'VE BEEN AT WAR SINCE OUR HOME WAS DESTROYED. The rules of engagement went out the airlock the moment the bombs started falling. And Temple Fleet??? What Temple Fleet? All I see is ten dinky ships, eight of which can't even fly straight! And if you haven't noticed... they're already firing like it’s a fucking battle out there. I don't need any damn authorization!"

"Ma'am, I must protest," Godwin managed to respond to everyone's equal surprise. Her wrath was a mighty and terrible thing and his ability to keep his voice and mind was a testament to his courage and strength. "Our remembrance of what was lost and our vigilant guardianship over those values is the only thing keeping us alive..."

"WRONG!" Armina had slipped her sidearm from her holster and pointed it directly at Godwin's chest. "The only thing keep you alive is my brain's ability to keep my finger from flinching on this trigger." Now nobody could believe what was going on. Every sudden shock from a moment before was getting blown out of the water by the next moment's surprise. They waited in fearful anticipation of the next escalation... but none came. Godwin stared back in shame and disbelief. He merely shook his head as he turned, seeing he had failed, and walked back out the portal to his own ship's hideaway.

The final silence rocked the air as nobody was sure of how to proceed next. They were witnesses to an unprecedented situation in their own life's experience and none were prepared for it or prepared as to how to react. Luckily, a beeping from one of the screens on the right enabled them to largely ignore the ordeal in their procession forward.

"Espers confirming they have reach their targets..."

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

The space battle raged. Brothers firing upon brothers, a fragile ecosystem floating nearby, and a slumbering giant waking to fan the flames. But it was two lions disguised as tiny mice that were sent to end the provocateur's reign. Two mice that the all ignored as they lit the darkness of space with explosion after explosion.

In each Esper, the seven remaining ZPMs activated and synced in the energy circle with the already operating three power crystals. Soon the full power of each Esper had been activated and was ready to be unleashed. They contained the power of worlds - giant killers with silver daggers. The red targeting circles locked onto the Atlas from either side as the two Espers flanked the cruiser from a lengthy distance. After one more final confirmation from battle command of their orders, the weapons officers initiated the firing sequence and the energy build up began in the focusing-sphere.

"Only the dead have seen the end of war..."

Two brilliant flashes of light and a stream of incalculable energy beamed towards the Atlas, encompassing it in a bright light that welcomed its passengers to the next life. Nothing remained of the ship or its crew, not even debris. The shear magnitude of energy had molecularized every piece of space dust.

The Esper-4 pilot sighed and then issued his orders. "Revert energy to cell five. Engage full shields and prepare B-Cannons to return fire. I'll maneuver us out of harm's way... you guys just sit there and pray."

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

"He is a Templar. They are not classed as a threat, Empress."

"Well that's good to know," Gideon replied in a half breath, having almost feinted from surprise and fear of Atlantia's gun pointed at his face. He didn't even have time to think about the disembodied voice or flash of her bodyguard for he was just thankful that his head was still attached to his body.

"I was just hoping we could talk, but if you need to relieve a little stress I can come back later..."

The battle stopped, right there. A part of it might have been Im's outburst, but as of now, the fact that the leading aggressor ship was...gone had the entire Atlantean fleet sitting speechless. The maneuvers had halted in mid-flight, and weapons had stopped being fired.

"The hell...was that?" asked one commander. His crew would not have an answer for him. The computers on board the various warships had tracked the weapons fire to two of the small Templar vessels, but...no one could really understand what had just happened. Two fighters had just taken an entire ship out in one or two hits. An uneasy unofficial cease-fire hung in the void around Hope Station, no one really sure what to do next. Why did the Templars fire? Had they sided with the four ships fighting the Atlas's forces? Or had they sided with Im?

...Regardless, how could one respond? Returning fire was an option, but seeing as how they had taken out an entire war vessel in one blow, no one was very eager to follow suit. The six vessels that had followed the Atlas began to power down weapons, one at a time. They did it almost reluctantly, but fearful of both Im and the Templar weaponry. As they did, the other four ships did as well, realizing that the situation had been rendered completely moot. Rather, now the Templar ships were being subjected to heavy scans from every Atlantean vessel in the area.

***

Atlantia took a second to regain her breath, having come within an inch of ending Gideon's life.

"By...who...you...ARE YOU INSANE!?" the empress howled, exasperated, "Who in tartarus comes to TALK in the middle of a warzone?!"

As if to get her point across, three security officers rounded the corner behind Gideon. Quicker then lightning, Atlantia grabbed Gideon by the arms and hurled him into her quarters. "MOVE!" she screamed, dodging the first shot. More shots glanced off the door archway as Atlantia moved back, firing three blind shots from her pistol as the door closed behind her. Dull thuds sounded off on the door as the weapons discharged on it. The empress knew it would be a wonder if the door lasted half a minute, but she was hoping Joa (she thought it was Joa, anyway) could take them down first. If not...well, she had already recharged her pistol and had moved herself to just behind the door archway, ready to fire and make her way to a crouching position behind her desk.

"Congradulations" she said to Gideon, with an unsympathetic expression, "You've just been drafted"

***

Sid's somewhat jovial attitude vanished, now replaced with the upmost concern, as he knew they were most certainly not solving their problems with words. "...I knew I shouldn't have left. We should head back"

"...The fight would be over by the time we got back" Xol replied, shaking his head, "One way or the other. We wouldn't have any effect"

That wasn't good enough for Sid. "That's no reason. We need to go back"

"Im's there, Sid" Sing added, "I'm sure she's in good hands"

"...yeah" Sid said, hesitating with a forced smile. That's what I'm afraid of. Knowing he wouldn't be able to win this, Sid backed down, and simply awaited the information dump.

Stay safe, Atlantia. For all our sakes.

"Sir! The lead Atlantean ship... it's been totally annihilated!"

"By who?" Im demanded, spinning on his Science officer. After a couple seconds, a Templar ship popped up on her screen and Im rounded on the main viewscreen. "Retarget and disable the power systems on all Templar ships. Now."

The massive ship began firing almost a hundred of it's weapons at the small Espers, while moving it's own bulk in between the smaller ships and the Atlanteans. The giant ship would be a much harder target to kill than an Atlantean cruiser, for sure.

A troubling power reading would show up on the Atlantean sensors as well... the Archangel was charging it's main magnetic cannons. Each one fired solid spheres the size of houses at 1/8 the speed of light.

On all communication screens, Im once again appeared. "You are trying my patience, Templars. I am trying to AVERT a war and yet here you are... encouraging one. I will give you only once chance to stand down, or I will unleash the full power of this gunship on your vessels." Gone was the calm, collected Im from the conference. This Im was the one the Atlanteans knew best. The one that threatened to destroy an entire Atlantean scout fleet for not taking part in a battle. The one that had personally blown Hades' head off and taken his place as Fleetlord. "Lay down your arms and return to the station in peace, or I will wipe your civilization out personally, even if I have to break each one of your necks with my bare hands. Your choice, Templar." The transmission cuts out and the giant ship completes it's turn and lets the Templars stare down the twin cannons of the gunship.

=====

Outside the Empress' quarters, the sound of gunfire was replaced with a new sound... screaming. The last one was cut off with a sickening thud against the door. After a moment, the door opened and Joa uncloaked. Behind him, the bulkhead has a bloody smear on it. "It is not safe here, Empress. We must move you to a secure location that will not attract attention like your quarters do." He looked to his left, threw a knife and was rewarded with a faint sound of gurgling in the distance. "Unless you want to have an even larger pile of bodies outside your quarters, I suggest we relocate."

Behind Joa, another Stalker decloaked. This one was obviously female, but was equally bald. "We have a problem. The blast doors have sealed. We have limited access to the rest of the station and have no outside support from the rest of the team. They are six levels away and trapped inside a high-security area. There is no way to release them without setting off half the alarms on this station."

Joa looked to Atlantia. "Empress, with the doors closed, I cannot move you far from here, but even moving to a maintenance room would lessen the chance of an attack on your person." He doesn't seem to give a damn about Gideon, though.

---

The Shiplord arched an eyebrow at the screen. "Fleetlord Kmmta only wishes for the Republic of Atlantis to flourish as it did before the... unfortunate losses sustained during this war." Nice and tidy way of dealing with the lose of countless billions of lives...

Brenteen quickly changes the subject. "Perhaps we should move to the candidate world? It is not much of a world... but it is more hospitable than your current colony."

The Atlantean scans of the vessels would reveal nearly all they wanted to know. There was, in fact, little to scan, but the Templars made no effort to block or interrupt them. In the forward of the ships calmly sat five life signs with full life support while the aft of the ship, not more than a few meters back, would show a high energy reading, albeit diminishing. Other than those few details, there was not much to discover - all systems were operational and online save for the recently discharged main cannon.

One of the brilliant design aspects of the Esper fleet was the linear energy distribution system combined with the energy transistor. Together they allowed the energy sources used aboard the ships to directly manifest shields. In short, it meant that while the shields could be overloaded with an extreme amount of energy, generally disabling the shields would mean depleting the entire ship's power supply. And because of the high agility and maneuverability, hitting the ship with a blast or series of blasts that would overload the shields was damn difficult.

As the shots began flying past the tiny battleship-fighters, the pilots began evasive maneuvers to keep them in one piece. Unfortunately for Im, as he was turning the Archangel to bring the twin cannons to bear and simultaneously charging up his main cannon, the two dwarfed ships were not going to stick around for very long.

"Activating jump drive on your command," the navigations officer aboard Esper-4 said aloud as they began taking hits.

"On my mark," the commander said, knowing that his counterpart on the second Esper was doing much the same. "5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Mark!"

Upon executing the command, a wormhole appeared before the ships and their thrusters pushed them past the event horizon and out of sight.

Where did they jump to? Not far.

Some ten seconds later, only a few seconds after the Atlanteans and Union Fleet would have realized they were gone, they appeared on the other side of the Atlantean Fleet. Part of the standard low force Templar battle tactics included joint use of a wormhole stabilizer jump drive and warp drive that would bend the wormhole back to the same quadrant of space. In a sense, it was like being teleported to another position on the battlefield in only a few seconds, though it did require a deal of power that it made it undesirable unless in such a situation as they now found themselves.

When they appeared on the other side of space, their weapons were not blaring, their targeting systems remained free, their power remained constant, and their intentions remained unknown. They simply sat floating in space. With no intention of fighting a direct battle head-to-head, they would wait for the opponent's next move. But at the first sign of an attack, they would engage the jump drive again and disappear into the void. Now, they just listened...

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

"ETC!?" Armina demanded as she stood at the portalway of her Esper, staring down on the engineering corps' steady progress. But without waiting for an answer (for that she already had), she demanded more progress. "I want this bird up in two hours... now!" As she turned to return to her command zone, she already knew that the corps making preparations to fulfill their commander's orders. It would be done in two hours time or skulls would roll.

She sat down in the command chair and breathed deeply, steadying herself and bringing a calm yet knowingly arrogant voice to her throat. "Active comm...

"I think you will find that the war is over..." Armina's voice came alive across near-space transmission frequencies. "While you sat threatening and brooding, allowing the situation to escalate further and further, I acted and ended it. You demanded they stop fighting as so many other demands you have made, but in the meantime they would tear themselves apart. They have torn themselves apart. It's civil war now and it is your doing. To stop war, you must show overwhelming power. Yes, the commander of the Atlas and his crew paid with their lives, but then their sacrifice was so that no other need die. An example of vengeance.

"And yet still you continue to threaten and brood, firing your weapons while all others have fallen silent. I believe that now... the choice is yours."

The line went dead.

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

Just as Gideon was beginning to feel safe again, he was hurled back into danger and then hurled quite literally to safety. "Wha-what?" he asked stupidly as he hit the ground and crawled behind cover. "Why are they shooting...?!?"

"Congratulations" she said to Gideon, with an unsympathetic expression, "You've just been drafted"

"Drafted!?! I didn't even know we were at war!" He ducked his head and clenched his ears as a couple of more blasts rounded off the walls. "Why are they shooting!?" he demanded to know as the Empress took up a firing position and he, the purported soldier, stayed out of harm's way.

However, a moment later the firing stopped and Gideon was glad to see that Atlantia wasn't the only one with him.

"It is not safe here, Empress. We must move you to a secure location that will not attract attention like your quarters do. Unless you want to have an even larger pile of bodies outside your quarters, I suggest we relocate."

"I'm thinking that it's more of the Empress that they're after and not the decor of her quarters that has attracted their attention," Gideon said glibly as he stood up but then once again ducked as he heard the blood curdling scream of another fallen enemy. "Ooh ooh... I have an idea I saw work once - let's pretend like we moved her to another location to draw them off, but then really just stay here where we don't have to get involved in all the gun firing."

Gideon grimaced as he saw the second stalker decloak, and even if he was worried about them seeing his apparent dislike of their nature - which he wasn't - they seemed to be ignoring everything he did.

We have a problem. The blast doors have sealed. We have limited access to the rest of the station and have no outside support from the rest of the team. They are six levels away and trapped inside a high-security area. There is no way to release them without setting off half the alarms on this station."

Now standing to actually attract their attention to him, Gideon spoke in a sincerely less sarcastic voice. "Maybe I could help with that..."

They were between a ship that could as well count as an entire fleet, and two tiny fighters that had just blown up a cruiser in under three seconds. And both seemed ready to kill each other. Rightfully terrified, the Atlantean ships began moving out, refusing to be the shields for the Templars.

***

Atlantia silently cursed to herself as the other stalker delivered the news. No access to the station, Koth had initiated lockdown mode. She cursed at herself as well, knowing that she really should have seen that coming. Her entire plan (such as it was) to get to Koth was now completely out of the question.

“I’m not leaving” she said to Joa, looking back at him, “Well, not hiding anyway. It won’t solve anything. I need to get to Koth. I need to end this *now*, and if necessary, I need to end Koth” She said the last bit with venom…partly directed at Joa. She still wasn’t too happy with Im’s little political gamble, assassination attempt on her life or not.

This conversation however, ended as the Empress took notice of Gideon once more.

Atlantia’s look was one of slight puzzlement, but a bit of hope as her eyebrow arched. “…What are you saying?” she asked Gideon, “…Can you bypass our lockdown mode?”

***

Back on the Destiny, Sid’s eyes widened somewhat.

Was…that directed at me? he thought to himself. Shit, can they read minds?!

Clearing his throat, Sid nodded, repressing his shock. “Er...yes. Why not?” He turned to Sing. “Signal the rest of the Destiny fleet. Tell them to continue searching for worlds on the systems left on our list. I want a number of selections to choose from, and quite frankly, most of the selections so far have been…less then desirable”

“Well, yeah, having every candidate slagged by the roving Demon forces that seem to be popping up like daisies around here” Xol said sarcasticly.

Sing turned around to see Sid, “What about the rest of the fleet? They can’t jump at will like we can, only at designated jump nodes. And we can’t just leave them here, there are swarms of Demons here”

The commander of the Mjolnir spoke up on the viewscreen. “Don’t worry ‘bout us. We’ve been holdin’ them off for weeks now. Months. And we’re winnin’. I think we can hold out until you get us a new place to live. Until then, this star system is under the sovereign control of the Imperial Federation Sixth Fleet, and we ain’t gonna let any damned scaly black blobs take it from us!”

A faint cheering could be heard coming from his bridge.

“Well” Sid shrugged, turning towards Brenteen, “That settles that. Ok Athena, we’ll follow you” He nodded at Sing, who began imputing the coordinates into the jump drive’s computer subsystem.

On the screen, Brenteen nodded and her image vanished. The assault ship rotated and leapt off into space, heading for the possible colony world. The cruiser stayed however, and simply leapt 'up' from the galactic plane that the rest of the ships and planets were on. It was more than three AU above the plane when it reappeared and contacted the Atlanteans, while continuing it's 'climb' at sublight speeds. Perhaps you could use a spotter?

===

Joa eyed the Templar. He was among the top computer crackers in known space and had difficulty in places with the Atlantean systems. Under a lockdown, the difficulties would only increase. Then again, the Templar was not a priority of his, therefore he could use the man without fear of failing his mission. If he lived, fine. If he died, that was fine too.

"Perhaps we can use two tactics. The Templar on the computers and the dragon in the ventilation systems. They are too small for any humanoid to crawl through, but she should have little difficulty crossing security barriers, so long as atmospheric seal protocols are not enabled." He stated, motioning to the hereto quiet Tanis, across the room.

===

The Archangel sat still for nearly a minute. Then it slowly powered down it's cannons. Then half it's weapons. Im's face appeared. "Templar, you dare cross me again and I do not care how powerful your ships are... I shall disable them all and dissect them piece by piece for any possible useful technologies, while my medical staff dissects some of you piece by piece for their own amusement." He sighed, heavily. "Now, back to the real problem that this area of space faces... Admiral Koth. You have proven yourself to be an antagonist and a maniac. Attacking this ship is pointless and your crews know this. Yet you attack and dare me to retaliate. I wish to see the Atlanteans survive and flourish... becuase, unlike the Templars, you are above the viability level and are able to support yourselves, given the proper colony worlds."

Like a flock of birds, the eight surviving Destiny class warships mobilized, accelerating off away from the Atlantean fleet that had just saved them. A few seconds later, eight respective bluish white wormholes opened up in front of them, swirling and pulsing with subspace energy. Likewise, the Atlantean vessels tingled with energy as their jump engines came online. Each of them shot like a catapult into their respective conduits, and the ruptures in space-time collapsed back in on themselves. Seven of the warships were headed towards the next system on the list. The Destiny on the other hand, was headed to the would-be colony world. They would arrive a few minutes after the Athena did.

The remaining fleet stayed behind, preparing to move out back to the location of the civilian fleet in the system. However, before they did, they received a faint transmission, one that was almost tough to understand, but it was there. They wouldn't be able to reply to the Union cruiser, the flare star wouldn't allow it. But the gratitude was present.

***

Atlantia glanced over at her...was he a pet? A guardian? A partner? She wasn't sure of the right term, but the genetically enhanced dragon Im had given to her as a gift was laying on her bed, curled up like some sort of demonic cat. She opened her eyes, knowing she was being talked about.

"Problem" Atlantia replied to Joa, as she turned back around to face him after a second, "The person I entrusted to the communication device is still working on it. I can't communicate with Tanis from across the ship. Unless she already knows her way around Atlantean computer systems"

As the words left Atlantia's lips, she felt kind of stupid. There was probably a good chance that Im had already seen to that in some way. The man was just that terrifyingly six-steps-ahead of everyone else.

"What do you need to work with?" she asked, turning to Gideon, in an attempt to draw attention away from her prior comment.

OOC: Alright. I think this current arc needs to end at some point soon, preferably before the title becomes a faithful representation of how long it's been running. I know I've never been the best with keeping a regular posting schedule, but near-on two months of hiatus is starting to get to me, especially since I have plans I want to get to before I die. Part of me wants to get back in the game. And to do that, I need this current story arc wrapped up to an extent. Not only that, but it's dragging.

DMG, I know you're probably busy with real life. I'm there, I know what it's like. And I know in the past I've been just as bad, if not worse. But ultimately, I cannot wait forever. And with your contribution to the arc thus far minimal, I feel I can (with a bit of cheating) drop your plotlines with relative ease. Mind you, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just trying to get myself out of a rut in the plot.

I'm going to wait until the 20th, two weeks from this post's date. That's when classes start back up again after a so-called 'fall break'. At that point if I have not heard from you, I'm going to continue. Feel free to talk to me. AIM, TG, whichever. We can work something out. I left you a TG inquiring about your status a few weeks ago which you never answered, so I figured I should just try again on the thread. That and so Crim can see it, if he so wishes to tell me I'm stupid. Which I'm certain he will regardless if he agrees with me or not, but I digress. The stalemate needs to end.

OOC: Alright. I think this current arc needs to end at some point soon, preferably before the title becomes a faithful representation of how long it's been running. I know I've never been the best with keeping a regular posting schedule, but near-on two months of hiatus is starting to get to me, especially since I have plans I want to get to before I die. Part of me wants to get back in the game. And to do that, I need this current story arc wrapped up to an extent. Not only that, but it's dragging.

DMG, I know you're probably busy with real life. I'm there, I know what it's like. And I know in the past I've been just as bad, if not worse. But ultimately, I cannot wait forever. And with your contribution to the arc thus far minimal, I feel I can (with a bit of cheating) drop your plotlines with relative ease. Mind you, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just trying to get myself out of a rut in the plot.

I'm going to wait until the 20th, two weeks from this post's date. That's when classes start back up again after a so-called 'fall break'. At that point if I have not heard from you, I'm going to continue. Feel free to talk to me. AIM, TG, whichever. We can work something out. I left you a TG inquiring about your status a few weeks ago which you never answered, so I figured I should just try again on the thread. That and so Crim can see it, if he so wishes to tell me I'm stupid. Which I'm certain he will regardless if he agrees with me or not, but I digress. The stalemate needs to end.
That is the stupidest thing I have ever read in my life.


Carry on.

OOC: I totally blame Spore. Annnnyway, let's get this back on track. Maybe. Hopefully. Possibly. Not a long post, as I posted last anyway, but anyway:

IC:

"What do you need to work with?" asked Atlantia, turning to Gideon. But as she did, she realized Gideon was not standing up anymore. Rather, his body was laying face-down on the floor in front of her desk. A large burn hole was sitting where part of his back used to be.

"...Why didn't he tell me he got shot?" the empress asked, scratching her head. She had subconsciously swallowed the primal urge to be somewhat freaked out by a dead body of someone she had just known. A jumped heart rate would be all that was detectable.

"...Ok" she turned back to Joa. "I guess it's just us" Atlantia sighed as she moved back over to the door to her room, gun in hand, "Alright, new plan. You crack the security codes, Tanis goes through the vents, and I hold the door"

Joa arched an eyebrow, looking to the other Stalker. "With... all due respect Empress... perhaps it would not be wise to have the main target of the attack on guard duty. So far your would be assassins have been almost amateurs... the next one might possibly find the time to aim their weapon. And do not try and object. My duty is to protect you. If I must knock you out and shove you into a closet for the duration of this crisis, I shall."

The female Stalker tossed a small device to the dragon. It looked like a miniature comm unit. That would ease communication, at least.

As Tanis departed, the three moved to one of the service areas and began to climb. Only they were going in the wrong direction. When Atlantia mentioned this, Joa chuckled. "The quickest route to freeing them is to secure the command center. Then we may release the lock-down at our leisure."

Continuing on, they stopped when they came to a locked door. Joa taps his comm. "Locked maintenance access door, our location." Within seconds, the door had released it's lock and parted for them. It resealed as soon as they were through and Joa tapped the comm again. That would keep a breach in the lock down from showing up long enough for someone to notice in the chaos, he hoped.

The problem was now... how long could they pass through sealed doors before the system triangulated them.

=====

Staring out at the Atlantean forces, Im scowled. "They've sustained too much damage already. Maintain a weapons lock on all ships still powering their weapons. If any make threatening moves, fire a secondary mag round across their bow as a warning."

He sighed, softly. "This is going to be a very long day indeed."

The Atlantean fleet simply sat there, opposite Im's ship. The Templars had vanished, mysteriously. One did not yet know if they were simply moving into another position to fire, or if they had left. And there was no way of knowing.

Also worrying, Im's ship was keeping lock on the fleet.

Also worrying, several of the ships remained at red alert, with weapons hot. Weapons that were locked on both each other and Im's ship. It was a strange melee a trois, with a possible hidden fourth faction, where everyone was aimed to fire on everyone else. Not that that make melee a trois strange, as that was the very definition. Rather, it was simply strange because showdowns like these simply did not occur outside of movies, or badly written amateur fiction.

Usually, at least.

****

The troops gathered outside of the Empress's quarters, ready for the next assault. Reports of the last assault being slaughtered by some of Im's forces had led command to send an even bigger team this time. And more heavily armed.

After a few moments of moving into position and assembling everyone where he wanted them to be, the commander of the unit gave the signal for a handful of troops to move in closer. He himself moved in as well, and taking out a small plastic data key from his pocket, slid it into a small compartment on the wall next to the door. He nodded to the three other soldiers next to him, who returned his gesture, and took aim. The commander pulled the key out, and the door slid open. The three soldiers and the commander moved inside with lightning speed, ready to take out any resistance inside...

...Only to find a dead body laying next to the Empress's desk. And no one else.

"...Where did they go?" asked one of the soldiers.

The commander cleared his throat, getting over his initial surprise. He tapped his communicator. "Command, this is---"

His report was cut off by the sound of a firefight going on outside. Another team of Atlanteans had found their position and opened fire.

***

I should have taken the rifle with me. Atlantia thought to herself, as she followed Joa and the other stalker. She glanced down at the pistol in her hand. At the time she had figured that speed was what she needed, and a pistol gave her that maneuverability. But a rifle had way more power behind it.

While she didn't say anything, she was also constantly worrying about what was behind her. Joa had been right. More troops would have been sent. And if they had half a braincell, she knew they'd know pretty quickly that she was no longer inside her room. Which meant they'd know she was somewhere else on the station, in an undefended location.

***

"We've met some resistance near the Empress's quarters, but we're managing to keep them pinned down, but that's not what worries us" the leader of the assault said, on one of the many small personal screens in the main command center of the station, which was being used by admiral Koth.

"Then what *is* it?" he asked, slightly irritated that the assault leader wasn't cutting to the chase. "Where is the Empress?"

"That's...what we're worried about. She's GONE, Admiral."

"...Gone? What do you mean GONE?"

"She and the Stalkers have vanished. We found a templar inside, dead. But she and the others are gone. We don't.."

He was cut off by Koth in full realization. "...My gods. She's coming *here*. Team leader, pull out NOW. That is a direct order. Get your men up here, IMMEDIATELY"

"...Sir?" the team commander got out before Koth cut the link. He turned to the other people in the room. "Begin internal scans. Track down the Empress. Don't bother with the Stalkers, you won't be able to find them. And anyway, they'll be with her. Find Atlantia, and track her"

"Should we send troops sir?"

"No. Send troops to her destination. And tell them to kill on sight"

Joa silently led on, setting a pace that was fast, but not one that would leave the Empress behind. The fact that she was slowing them down annoyed him a tad, but she was vital to the mission. Therefore he had to ignore his annoyance and deal with the slower pace. To compensate, he sent the other stalker ahead, to scout.

As they came to an area three decks below the command center... the ladder ended and they came upon a room full of groaning bodies. The Stalker had killed three and disabled four more. She looked to the others. "They know where we are. They were not here by accident..."

Joa sighs and clicks his comm. "Tanis... we have been compromised. Release my team and get them a secured lift to this level." A click came in reply. Joa looked to Atlantia and motioned to the fallen guards. "It may be a good idea for you to find yourself some armor and a weapon."

====

In space, Im's image appeared on the Atlantean view screens again. "Atlanteans... you know as well as I do that this vessel is quite capable of disabling you all. And that I never fail to follow through on a promise. I suggest you stand down in order to not suffer further damage to your crews and equipment. Such acts would mean you would be wasting resources. And I abhor waste."