NationStates Jolt Archive

Prologue

"Now listen closely. This is a bottle, this is a bottle, this is a bottle. Is this a bottle?"

"... no?"

"Yes it is. This is a bottle, this is a bottle, this is a bottle. Is it a bottle?"

"Yes it is!"

"No it isn't."

And so is the Universe. Seemingly random and chaotic, but explainable with its own patterns. Everyday epic battles for the fate of the Universe occurred, nevermind the fact that there were parallel universes everywhere, but they didn't need to know that. Whether it's the Sith, the Borg, or some generic evil empire with an angry leader who was abused as a child, there is always some epic battle for good and evil.

Vylencia just did not care.

The Vylencian Commonwealth was located on one planet. It was not a giant Galactic government, it was not even made up of entire nebula; no. It was just one measely planet.

This one measely planet had a decent navy. It wasn't good, it certainly wasn't bad, but it was decent. It has seen battles, pirate fleets and that sort, but certainly it's never fought for good and evil.

The government wasn't anything special, it was a Republic with an elected President, a unicameral parliament, and a judicial system. The people were content with their lives, happy that their government was keeping them well and not overtaxing as most galactic governments at war seem to do.

The people were also very religious people, belief in the Church was strong. The Church wasn't one of those wacky cult religions that needed more blood for the blood god and more skulls for the skull throne. The Church supplemented science, it did not fight it. The Church was involved in all aspects of government life but it did not control it. Indeed the Church was just there and never did much of anything.

Vylencia was just there. It just did nothing but mind its own business.

Chapter 1: Stirrage

Vylencia

President Michael Shenker was your average President. He just sat there. He read bills, signed bills, vetoed bills, paid bills, danced with Bill... okay maybe the last one is not necessarily true but you get the gist. He was the modern (so to speak) Martin van Buren. I bet you don't even know who he is do you? Well that's just the kind of man President Michael was. He kept the gears rolling, put on the oil, got the monkey wrench out if there were problems. Indeed, are you getting the gist?

Michael didn't look like anyone special. He was a man. He had hair. He wore a nice suit because tights just don't make sense in the future. His smile wasn't threatening or calling, it was just a smile. His face wasn't disfigured or the most beautiful thing in the world, it was just... there.

Everything was just there.

Michael sighed, sitting on his generic presidential desk made out of wood. "... this is boring."

Yes, yes it is boring.

Orbit over Vylencia

For all of the seeming genericness of Vylencia, it was actually a pretty planet. The population the Commonwealth itself was located on a giant island surrounded by ocean water. The island of course was completely urbanized into a giant city but the ocean was beautiful and clean. Anybody with a decent view could fishing boats all over the planet looking for sea sustinance because a giant city with no space for farms could not eat pig. Indeed, everything that powered composed Vylencia came from the sea. Its metals, its foods, its minerals, its uraniums; all from the depths. Now because this is the modern era, the mining is all done cleanly. I wish I could give you a scientific explanation on how all of this can be acheived but alas, I'm the narrator.

Above the planet itself was the military shipyard/space station; Battlestation Cassiopeia. It was a rather large station, immensely large. Luckily all the servicemen who weren't flying around could be transferred in and out but with the expansion of Vylencia's armed forces, more were being built within the surrounding star system (which is called the Cassiopeian Star System, named after the star, Cassiopeia).

There were only three fleets in the Navy, in fact the Navy was the military. It had marines, ships, tanks... why need anything else? Two of them were orbiting the planet, the other was patrolling the star system; not like there was something better to do.

It. was. boring.

If only someone could visit Vylencia and get it out of its shell. It certainly wasn't going to get itself out.

(OOC: Have I mentioned that I love your writting style? Having a narrator tell it gives so much room for humor, well played, Sir/Madam!)

IC:

The Republic was flourishing. Trade with foreign states was at an all time high, despite certain tarrifs that existed in certain provinces, and with the conclusion of the most recent war, Republican influence was expanded even further beyond its borders. It was probably because of this time of prosperity and glory that the Magister Militum decided exploration a fitting task for the war vessel Triton's Reflection. The mighty Imperial class battle cruiser, the aging flagships of the space empire, suddenly emerged in a magnificent display of light, just on the edge of the star system.

Blind jumps into unknown space were always strange, for you had no information about where you were going until a few moments before arrival, and even then simply preliminary scans that would reveal if there were any other vessels or other objects in the area that could cause a problem in navigation. Emerging back into realspace made you move with tremenduous speed until you slowed yourself, and high-speed collisions were never a pretty thing. Luckily, the enourmous space station was far off, and the patrolling fleet was over to the left.

Battlestation Cassiopeia

"It's a giant triangle."

As common as Star Destroyers were in the modern age, Vylencia has never seen one. They heard rumours about these giant triangles with the ability to move slowly and destroy things with green light. Of course a Vylencian never did see one until now. Suffice to say they were slightly, confused.

"Well that's... random."

The battlestation never encountered a situation such as this, usually when a ship appears it starts firing at the spot. Suffice to say this was a different situation, this was... a ship. Maybe it wanted diplomatic relations, maybe it was lost, or maybe it was trying to lull the station into a false sense of security before they started blasting it with their green light beams of death and everything exploded.

Meh.

Admiral John Winchester. He was the man in charge of the station. Vylencia, in all of its existence, has never encounter a situation like this. He was a large man with a balding head and a nice uniform. Of course one never saw his balding head because he always wore a nice hat. Indeed, it has been said that he is not a man with a nice hat, but that he is a nice hat with a man... or not. Nevertheless he was confused as to what to do. Naturally he did the first thing he could think of.

He coughed.

He then did the second thing he could think of. He said hello.

A radio beam immediately traveled toward the strange triangular ship with a simple message.

To: Unknown Ship
From: Battlestation 001

... what are you and what are you doing here?

Alas the poor Vylencian people did not know that there was a giant triangle
outside their planet, well, at least those without telescopes didn't. Those with telescopes however did know but they all seemed like crazy people. Flying triangles that shoot lasers out of holes make as much sense as a bad Presidential candidate being elected to office.

Alas.

(It's sir, and I also find it quite shocking you find my use of a narrator interesting. Thank you. Feel free to tell people by the way. I never could make my intro threads work...)

(OOC: But of course, how silly of me, Sir. There are no girls on the interwebs! Anywho, it's a refreshing take, and very funny. Please join with me when I make the offer so I can enjoy this more in the future!:D)

(OOC2: Oh, and it's not a Star Destroyer, though it looks rather the same...so your post still works. Here's some info on what it is: http://z10.invisionfree.com/Republic_Forum/index.php?showtopic=738)

IC:

"Receiving a hail, Sir."

The ensign, one among many in the sea of souls that was the bridge of the Triton, reported as he stood from his computer terminal. Coincidentally, the commanding officer of the battleship, Captain Julianos Flavius Damoscus, was passing by that section of the room on the higher up catwalk that seperated the multitude of beeping and buzzing instruments and crewmembers.

"Play it on speaker, please."

To: Unknown Ship
From: Battlestation 001

... what are you and what are you doing here?

"Have the sweeps of the system been completed?"

His question was quickly answered by another man on the opposite side of the room, near the bundle of terminals in the science section of the bridge. The scanners had picked up several military-grade vessels, the majority of which were in orbit of a fair sized terrestrial waterworld; the remained of them was to their portside. There also appeared to me a massive structure in orbit of the planet, whose single continent seemed to consist of millions of buildings. As grouped structures usually do, they merit the title of city.

"Open a channel back to them, please."

Battlestation 001,

This is Captain Flavius of the Republican battle cruiser Triton's Reflection. Do forgive me for this overused saying, but we come in peace. I must say, I am rather appauled to see such a civilisation living secluded out this far in the galaxy, away from any charted colonies or forts. But I am being rude. I formally request permission to enter your territory, Battlestation 001, and will supplement that request with asking to move ahead and enter orbit of your colonised world.

Suddenly, a large ship entered the system, it floated in space for a few minutes, then started it's ponderous advance towards the nearest planet, scans indicated another ship nearby,and the ship turned to face it. The large ship scanned the planet and the other spacecraft, seeing that communications were open between them.

This is the Deathshawl, we have come to chart this system, but that can wait, who are you?

OOC The Pilgrims of Isa what the,lol and Vylencia nice Intro

OOC The Pilgrims of Isa what the,lol

OOC: From wiki

Isa may refer to:

Isa (album), a 2004 album by Enslaved.
Isa (dance), a local variation of a Jota.
Isa (moth), a moth genus.
Isa (name), a common Arabic name. Also a shortened form of the Montenegrin name Isailo.
Isa, a prophet in the Quran who is generally taken as an expression for Jesus in Islam.
Isa, Nigeria, a local government area in Sokoto State
Mount Isa, Queensland, a city in northwest Queensland, Australia.

ISA is a three-letter acronym that may stand for:

In politics:

International Seabed Authority, an intergovernmental body based in Kingston, Jamaica established to organize and control all mineral-related activities in international seabed areas.
International Searching Authority, a patent office performing prior art searches during the prosecution of international (patent) applications under the Patent Cooperation Treaty.
Internal Security Act, laws that enable the executive government of a jurisdiction to preserve the internal security of the nation.
Ideological State Apparatus, a term used by Marxist philosopher Louis Althusser for how society reshapes the individual in its own image.
In computing:

Industry Standard(s) Architecture, a now-obsolete I/O bus standard for IBM-compatible PC motherboards.
Instruction Set Architecture, the complete specification of the interface between computer programs that have been written and the underlying computer hardware that carries out the actual work.
Information Security Architecture, a buzzword variant for information security.
ISA platform ("NOS"), an operating system software for Nokia mobile telephones.
Microsoft Internet Security and Acceleration Server, a Microsoft server product.
Instrumentation, Systems, and Automation Society, formerly the Instrument Society of America, a professional organization for instrument engineers.
Isa (computer science), a relationship between objects; for instance, an apple tree "is a" tree.
In aviation and space exploration:

International Standard Atmosphere, a tabulation with altitude of the standard variation of pressure, temperature, density, viscosity, etc., appropriate to mid latitudes, released by the ICAO.
Iranian Space Agency, Iran's governmental space agency.
Israeli Space Agency, Israel's governmental space agency.
Italian Space Agency, Italy's governmental space agency.
In education:

Independent Schools Association, a group of schools in New South Wales, Australia.
Institute for the Study of the Americas, a research institute associated with the University of London's School of Advanced Study
International School of the Americas, a magnet school located in San Antonio, Texas.
International School Amsterdam, an international school in the Netherlands.
International School of Arizona, a not-for-profit school located in Scottsdale, Arizona.
Investigative Skills Assessment, part of some GCSE Science Syllibii
Instituto Superior de Arte an art school in Havana, Cuba
Intensive Support Amount a component of education funding in Ontario 1998-2005, worth $12,000 (level 2) or $27,000 (Level 3) per year, per claimed pupil supposedly to fund one-on-one support; claims doubled to about C$1 billion between 2002 and 2004.
In finance:

International Standards on Auditing, professional standards for the performance of audits of financial information.
Individual Savings Account, a financial account for investment in the UK with special tax rules.
Israel Securities Authority, the Israeli regulator of financial and stock market.
ISA can also refer to:

Intelligent speed adaptation
Information System Audit
Intelligence Support Activity, a special-forces operations unit of the U.S. Army.
Infectious salmon anemia, a viral disease of salmon.
Institut de Sélection Animale, a poultry breeding company based in Saint–Brieuc, France.
International Security Alliance, a fictional spy agency on the NBC soap opera Days of our Lives.
International Shakespeare Association, an international academic association based in Stratford-upon-Avon, UK.
International Sign Association, a trade-organization of sign producers.
International Society of Arboriculture, a non-profit botanical organization.
International Sociological Association, a non-profit organization in the fields of sociology and the social sciences.
Interplanetary Strategic Alliance, an alliance in the video game Killzone and its sequels.
International Symbol of Access, an image of a stylized person in a wheelchair against a blue background, meant to designate handicap accessibility at a glance.
Interstellar Alliance, an alliance in Babylon 5 to fight the Shadows.
Irish Sailing Association, the governing body for sailing in Ireland.
Independent safety assessment, a type of safety audit.
Grupo ISA, a Colombian utility

You don't have a monopoly on the word ISA :p

.

OOC :rolleyes: really i did need you to point shit out i know by looking up what ISA stand for in Killzone and as a Australian i known of mount ISA QLD for years,an i get ask by other Australians is that what i name my nation for thank you very much

OOC: Love the writing style

There was a small burst of light as a ship exited warp started to hover in the system. They were smaller than most of the other vessels here but then again, they were battleships. The vessel that so humbly bore the symbol of the APN was merely a destroyer (http://s239.photobucket.com/albums/ff167/mreynolds058/?action=view&current=A-ClassDestroyerPic.jpg).

Captain James Tanner stood on the bridge and watched as a planet loomed into view, along with numerous ships. It seemed like a nice enough planet. No massive fleets of warships, no masses of orbital defence stations. In fact, he could only see one. And his ships scanners were also telling him there was only one. Nice enough place. An Alliance in the making perhaps?

Tanner turned to his First Officer and found that she was not at her post. He sighed in frustration and tapped the communicator that was nestled in his ear,

"Commander? Hurry up!"

She appeared moments, later, panting heavily and still pulling on her over-coat. Tanner actually seemed amused for a few seconds before scowling at her,
"You're ten minutes late to duty."

"Apologies, Sir, My alarm didn't go off"

"Yes it did, it woke everyone else on the deck. Why not you?"

"I'm a heavy sleeper?" She tried.

"Never mind, send a message to the planet. I'm guessing the ODS there is the best place to start. And run a few scans, I want to know what I'm up against if someone gets trigger happy."

"Yes, Captain" She turned and went to work.

A few moments later, a message was broadcast to the battlestation

TO: unknown Orbital Defence Station

This is Captain James Tanner of the Alversian People's Starship
Aversion. We are exploring the area and are curious to
know if a meeting could be arranged between ourselves and
a few Representatives of your people?

Captain James Tanner
APS Aversion

By now the personnel inside the battlestation (http://images.wikia.com/memoryalpha/en/images/5/54/Deep_space_9.jpg) were starting to wonder why there were unknown ships outside of the planet that were not being shot down. Some said they were secret weapons that the government were hiding, other said that it was some racist alien species that were too lazy to destroy the planet, and a few people even said that they were actually friendly peoples trying to say hello.

Not that it ever happens of course.

By now the Admiral sent down a super encrypted message that is so encrypted and unbreakable that I, the narrator, cannot explain the mechanics behind it.

He was shocked.

Presidential Palace, Vylencia City

The Palace (so to speak) was not really a palace like Versailles. It was a nice house, a mansion. The people didn't think that a President needed a large house, what was he going to need that required so much space? Bodyguards? Weapons of mass destruction? Giant phallic spaceships that are useless in battle? I mean it just wouldn't make sense... oh wait.

Surrounding the Palace was a nice garden, a fence, and the busy roads of Vylencia. Traffic wasn't the best in this fair city, but it certainly wasn't the worse. No, that honour certainly belonged to Coruscant.

Nevertheless the President was shocked when he heard that foreigners were poking their noses in Vylencian business.

"Hmmm..." Michael stated. "Looks like I'll have to contact the Council."

Battlestation Cassiopeia

Admiral Winchester was by now worried. The third fleet (who was on the other side of the system) was flying as fast as they could without using faster then light technology. Now of course the Vylencian FTL drive was just as good as any other nation's drive, but it makes for better dramatic license if the third fleet arrived late.

Now a note on the fleets. They're not very large. Indeed, the Vylencian Navy consisted of only 75 capital ships with alot of fighters. But they were feisty capital ships, and more importantly, they were bored.

And imagine all the women a Captain could get if he shot down an enemy ship. Or men if the Captain is a woman, that would be sexist.

The Admiral sighed. "... more ships?" The poor ensign nodded his head. "Send out a message to all ships in the area. Tell them to dock at the station. Also give out a call to all the soldiers in the station, if we're going to be host to aliens, we might as well be protected."

Suddenly a picture of the Alversian destroyer appeared. Winchester laughed dryly. "Especially if that's what they call a destroyer. All those cannons, ptah..."

Another ensign looked at the Deathshawl. He gulped. "Do all their names have to be violent...?"

To: All Foreign Ships
From: Battlestation 001

You are all permitted to dock with the station. You will be searched and
escorted into the meeting room. There will be no complaints.

Now this is where the Vylencians were slightly ignorant. They actually thought that they were slightly powerful. No, no they weren't. But they didn't need to know that.

It was Flavius who laughed this time, the new "orders" from the space station telling them that they would be searched. Silly sods, obviously they had no idea about anyone in the system, and it seemed the number of nations was growing rapidly. Who knew so many people would be exploring this particular section of space at the exact same time.

In anycase, the Triton moved ahead at a rather sluggish pace, for the vessels were made as giant weapons platforms and moved like a beached whale when not in hyperspace. After awhile of travel, the massive ship finally began the docking proceedures, which were strange since travel to and fro from Taledonian ships happened by shuttle craft. Still, it would make do, attaching a docking bay with the station.

(OOC: Sorry but I just had to see what would happen if someone just walked through the middle of all of this)

Life...
Death....
To the soul everything, to the cosmos nothing...only memory may survive the life cycle of the cosmos. As a part of the cosmos you will ukulele

"Huh?" Leroy Jenkins looked up from his berth and stared at the professor.
"Ah, well it seems that the translation system I am using is not quite perfected" The man in the white shirt and trousers replied.

Leroy shook his head and laid back down on his bunk. "Whatever man...all I know is upper squiggly line with upsidedown cross with that backward lemma.."

"lamda"

Leroy ignored the interuption "above a equal sign with a circle, a cross with a circle, and a upside down sunrise means porn..." He clicked the monitor over his bed and the sounds of a woman moaning could be heard.

"Actually it means 'Funny Acts'..." The Professor closed his eyes and shook his head. Of all the people who had to survive the crash it had to be Leroy. The idiot who knew that there wasn't some mountain in a place labled 'sea'. Of course the mountain had been there, just sticking out of the hellishly cold sea. Then to top things off, they got rescued by the Var

Bridge Gunship Neza-103-A
Keitha Hen'zu looked at the holotank and tilted his head slightly. Then down at the rather odd scrap of paper that was held in his foreclaw.
<This Terran's map makes no sense...> the Var stated in a disagreeable tone.
<No doubt, he spends his time watching terran comedy...>
<So....?>
<The type of comedy mylord is usually considered degrading on Terra...>
The Var stared at his human Zekra (XO) so she continued
<Because it depicts Terran sex acts...>

The Var nodded, <Your race is quite silly when you mate...you make weird noises and you have to keep up some frantic pace...You constantly get into odd positions to mate...then change them at whim... And then when the male finally is ready to impregnate the female he pulls out and looses his seed into the wrong orifice...it is a wonder your race did not go extinct Zekra>

<Ah but still it is considered...>

The Var pointed to the sheet of paper in his hand. <Yes, your point is taken...this Leroy of House Jenkins is a complete moron.>
There were little squiggles, a happy smiling stickman riding a rocket and a little man holding on to the rocket with glasses. Next to the squiggles were various markings apparently indicating courses back to a large circle labled 'Earth'.

The Zekra decided not to comment on the fact that the reason they needed to rely on the human map was the Kethra's refusal to go back to current charted space and go to Terra the known way. Apparently the Kethra's rather limited experience with Terrans from Terra, rather than those raised on Ketaria, made him rather a poor judge of Terra-hu intelligence.

There was a buzz...<Kethra...we are approaching locus Z-5,> came over the hub.

<Gah, well we shall see where we are in normal space...>

<Yes my lord>

Both turned their attention to the holotank as things began to shift around them. A moment later there was a sudden darkness and then the lights returned. The holo flicked off then back on showing the local system.

<Gah, is this the world that has sent billions into the depths of the galaxy?>

<No, this is not Terra...>

<But only Terra is indicated on the map...>

<My lord, the mind of a five year old drew that map...>

<But I thought five year old Terrans were small...>

<Mind, not body...>

<So this isn't Terra...>

<No...>

<Then tell me where is my ship>

<I do not know...>

<Ahhh....to the Ancients cesspools with Terrans...> The Var turned and hit a button on the holotub console. <Bring me our guests...perhaps they can explain where we are...>

Vylencia Orbit

One moment there was just empty space, the next there was a rather small (by galatic standards, in terran terms it was the size of the U.S. Texsas) space ship shooting a tangental line across the outer reaches of the system. The new ship said nothing, and did nothing but zoom across on its merry way to somewhere else.

To: All Foreign Ships
From: Battlestation 001

You are all permitted to dock with the station. You will be searched and
escorted into the meeting room. There will be no complaints.

"Uh..." Tanner looked at his crew who simply shrugged. His ship may have been small by fleet standards but there was NO way he was gonna fit into those spaces they were offering. And they seemed less than happy to be accepting foreigners even if they were only here to say hello. Still, First Contact and all that...

TO: Battlestation 001

Apologies for seeming obtuse but it is not possible to fit our ship
into one of your docks. Do you have a location to which we could
teleport and meet one of your diplomats?

Captain James Tanner
APS Aversion

He wasn't worried. The Destroyer was the smallest ship in the Alversian Naval system, with a crew of only 2,000. A Strato-Dreadnought had a crew of 9,000 and enough firepower to repel a fleet alone.

To: All Foreign Ships
From: Battlestation 001

You are all permitted to dock with the station. You will be searched and
escorted into the meeting room. There will be no complaints.

The ship stopped in its advance toward the ship, and floated in space, then it sent a message; "The Deathshawl accept your offer... The Ancient will see you very soon..." And with that, the ship docked with the battlestation.

The first thing the Ancient noted as it walked into the station with its two bodyguards were the warriors of the enemy, escape routes, battle tactics in this sort of situation, and defendable positions. It and its warriors were wearing the long black rotting robes typical of a Deathshawl, with a hood obscuring their face, and in each of their guantleted hands were gigantic scythes, all three of the Deathshawl were at least ten feet tall, and their robes seemed to flutter even though there wasn't any breeze in space. The Ancient gripped his scythe tightly as people moved in to begin the search.

To: All Foreign Ships
From: Battlestation 001

You are all permitted to dock with the station. You will be searched and
escorted into the meeting room. There will be no complaints.

The ship stopped in its advance toward the ship, and floated in space, then it sent a message; "The Deathshawl accept your offer... The Ancient will see you very soon..." And with that, the ship docked with the battlestation.

The first thing the Ancient noted as it walked into the station with its two bodyguards were the warriors of the enemy, escape routes, battle tactics in this sort of situation, and defendable positions. It and its warriors were wearing the long black rotting robes typical of a Deathshawl, with a hood obscuring their face, and in each of their guantleted hands were gigantic scythes, all three of the Deathshawl were at least ten feet tall, and their robes seemed to flutter even though there wasn't any breeze in space. The Ancient gripped his scythe tightly as people moved in to begin the search.

OOC: Uncle Nazacar! We missed you...

No really...the Var tend to run around in similar get up at a similar height.

OOC: Oooh...I must meddle, twiddle, and interfere in this thread. I'm so popping in.

IC:

VFS Shobu Kaji

The sleek black poles that rose through the ship's engine room were a testament to Vuhifellian engineering. Being able to rip holes in space on demand and deliver the craft anywhere it wanted to go. So long as they were properly maintained, these slipspace engines could operate forever...

Which was exactly why Captain Halsey was stuck in some uncharted, unexplored, and, as far as he could tell, worthless system. The mechanics at the last port they docked at had been lazy, and filled the engine core with too much acid. A hole had burned through the metal, and they were, for all intents and purposes, stuck until help arrived.

He sat there, resting his head on his palms, lazily listening to some music from the Inner Colonies.

"Lieutenant, when can we get some help out here?"

"Sir! Earliest estimate is two weeks, sir!"

"Wonderful."

The Shobu Kaji was a light cruiser (http://www.covenant-clan.co.uk/humans1.jpg), on a routine patrol. She could survive the two weeks, but her Captain could not. There was far too much liquor, sex, and gambling waiting for him once he left for shore leave.

"Sir! Detecting presence on our IFF scanners. Register one known contact: Alversia; and several unknown contacts. First Contacts, sir."

"Initiate first contact protocol. Tell them of our troubles, and maybe we can get some leave while we're here if we're lucky? Eh? Maybe? No? Just hail the bastards."

"Aye, sir!"

Attention: Contacts (known contact: Alversia)
This is the Vuhifellian light cruiser, Shobu Kaji. Our FTL engine is damaged, please assist. Over.

Immediately, the Aversion broke away from her orbit and headed for the Vuhifell Cruiser

TO: VFS Shobu Kaji

This is the Alversian People's Ship Aversion, how can we
of assistance?

"Averson, this is Executive Officer Mitchell; an improper chemical mixture in our FTL drives' fuel has burned a hole in the metal, we ain't going anywhere until this thing is fixed."

The Destroyer, although substantially smaller than the Cruiser, managed to come alongside and respond with a hail:

'Shobu Kaji, is the damage critical?'

A small, almost infinitessimal rift began to open. It was a fizzle at first, simply a glowing, angry red scratch in the serene black of space. It then, as if further agitated by a prod, opened into a glaring red wound, small shock waves emanated from it like blood. There was no mistaking a Dominion-made wormhole, though its size was far too small. What's more, something was wrong, terribly wrong. It was not stable at all, and random streaks of energy shot from the threshold, lancing every which way.

From this new orifice drifted a heavily damaged, but nonetheless modified Dominion Harbinger class Frigate. The weapons array seemed partially fried and multiple decks were exposed to space. Scorch marks covered the once matte gray ablative armor. As it cleared the wormhole, the stellar body violently collapsed, it's implosion scorching the rear of the vessel and sending it rocketing away in a random direction.

An automated distress signal was emitting from the communications array, obviously damaged as evidenced by the garbled message. Over all known frequencies an emotionless, male voice intoned:

Automated distress signal, Dominion Explorer Vessel (http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y90/DominionofRS/Omegaclasscruiser.jpg) Argo requesting *message garbled*
Vessel *static* -tained major hull damage
Decks 4-8 compromised
Decks 9-10 flooded with theta radiation
Weapons *static* -line
Worm*static* enerator polarized
Microsingularity core containment *static* -ling
Full core breach in *static* -conds
Remaining crew life signs: 23 of 150
Lifepods not*static* -ployed

Recommend core breach counter*static* enacted within next two minutes.

The transmission terminated then repeated over and over again. Leaking theta radiation would prevent an accurate sensor reading as to how many crewmen were still alive or where on the vessel they were. Scans would reveal ten decks. 1-3 were still intact with minimal life support still operating. The bridge was above that. Ominously, it would also reveal that the microsingularity core was indeed losing integrity. If action was not taken soon, there was going to be one big problem.

OOC: And yes, I've returned.
Vuhifel, sorry about ducking out on the thread like that, but RL beckoned. I'm guessing it's too late to pick it up?