NationStates Jolt Archive

"Only Nixon could go to China."

--Spock, Star Trek.

"Unpredictability is the greatest asset or weapon that a leader can have."

--Richard Milhous Nixon

Los Angeles, California, Earth SSR

“Comrade Premier.”

The Red Detachment guard walked up to MacIntyre’s sleeping body, and poked it with her finger. The alarm clocks were going off loudly, and yet the great Comrade Premier, Robert Ellison MacIntyre, was still sleeping in his room, presumably to ease himself out of another bender. He was having a lot of them these days, keeping the company of folks such as Jim Beam and Jack Daniels as his stubbornness and fury—qualities that had served him in his reform programs—now turned to consume him thanks to the recent discord among his allies.

“COMRADE PREMIER!”

The Red Detachment guard poked him harder. Finally, like a bear out of hibernation, MacIntyre stirred. He muttered, “No, Katie…..not there…..” Opening his eyes, he turned and saw the Red Detachment soldier. Sitting up, MacIntyre replied, “Ugh….I overslept again.”

Shutting off the alarm clock, he dismissed the guard and cleaned himself up. Thankfully, the only evidence was a streamer of drool that had accumulated overnight, morning breath and a five o’ clock shadow that needed attending to. A shower and shave later, he arrived downstairs into his conference room, taking his small Egg And Cheese bagel with a side of sausage patties and a cup of Hajarran Vanilla coffee and sitting in front of his computer.

It was then that he began checking his e-mails. Mostly business, and some spam from the MegaBooks chain. He looked and saw reports from Commodore Alcott at Konoha and Captain Tsing at Vobayrunyay Lease, which were forwarded promptly from JRCCC’s switchboard in San Diego to the Premier’s desk with the tagline, “Rob, I think you should look at these. Signed, Jack.” Jack being Jack Cortes, the Silent Ox of the Administration, working from mostly behind the scenes.

The report concerned the presence of the forces of a not-well understood human faction known as the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. It was simple, brief, and concise, listing how they imposed a blockade, then had to leave. The other one was simple as well, and had been dealt with. Jack had sent supplies to aid some sort of National Liberation movement—there were plenty these days—led by a man named “Adama.” Robert didn’t mind much. He figured one was as good as any. Besides, this NLM was linked to the Colonies, which had suffered the Caprica Incident. As such, it would be considered some form of help.

As Robert sipped his coffee, he looked at the references. It seemed that Earth was considered the Thirteenth Colony by these people. Kindred. Not that any Dornalian would call themselves a Colony of anybody, not without a drawnout, knockdown brawl. Interesting. He then minimized the window and looked it up further on NS Wikipedia. Browsing the Talk Page—which as usual was full of angry neckbearded trolls and Internet Tough Guys with big mouths and little common sense—he began to get a sense of the Twelve Colonies and their situation. Yes, to many Dornalians, they seemed something out of a television show. A well-written one full of human drama—maybe too much of it at times—but a television show nonetheless. Alcott had made that clear when the GRACIE unit on his vessel only brought up the TV show.

But, as MacIntyre pondered the reason why this little group of planets would cause such a shitstorm among his allies and among the universe, he felt his trademark sense of justice welling up. And his sense of rage. Maybe it was the effects of the hangover, but he felt it was time to do something. Yes, the Coredians were in the right, as far as MacIntyre was concerned. And yes, the Dornalians had already gone over there, in the form of Jesuits and businessmen.

But the Colonials were in danger. The Koreans would find them too, a “shrimp between whales,” and one whose independence needed to be secured. As he browsed all available materials on the Twelve Colonies, an idea began to form. He picked up the phone, and called Carla.
-----------------------------------------------------------------

Carla Baileygates had just left the dining room aboard the Dornalian transport that had taken her to the Initiative in the first place. Today’s meal—mashed potatoes, teriyaki nuggets, and some mixed vegetables with a jello fruit cup. Yum. It reminded her of high school, only without Chris Gardner, who would steal her books in some vain scheme to win her affections.

As she went back to her room, her phone vibrated. Picking it up, she replied with, “Rob! What is it?”

Robert then replied, “Carla, I’ve been doing a little research on the Twelve Colonies of Kobol.”

A pause and a sigh. Carla was not only Robert’s co-worker (as Commissar of Foreign Affairs), but also a good friend and personal confidante. Unfortunately, that meant recently, Carla had to put up with some of Robert’s rants and crying jags when he became intoxicated. She then said, “Rob, I know how you feel, but….”

Robert then said, “Carla, this isn’t what it sounds like. I think I got a solution.”

Carla smiled and said, with some sarcasm, “Does it involve military intervention?”

Robert laughed and said, “Nah. This involves political intervention. Ever hear of the Articles of Colonization?”

Carla went into her room and sat down. She then opened her briefcase and took out a pad and pen, and began scribbling notes as she said, “You mean the constitution of the Twelve Colonies?”

Robert’s reply was simply, “Well, it’s not exactly a constitution. It’s more of a compact. A confederating agreement. Like the old USA’s Articles of Confederation or the 20th Century’s United Nations, with some more powers.”

Carla nodded, and said with a listening tone, “So it’s a moderately strong confederated government, with great autonomy for its membership. So?”

A pause.

Carla then realized Robert’s plan. Gasping, she said, “You want us to ratify it?”

Robert then said, “Well, it’d solve a lot of problems.”

Carla shot back with, “Yes, and also create a whole host of new boondoggles. I mean, there’s the People’s Congress to worry about. You and I might see the fact we get to keep the Red Army, but they won’t. Also, you know the Twelve Colonies specifically forbids artificial intelligences? And, they are allied with the Galactic Empire.”

“Relax, Carla…..first of all, we do this, we can get the Colonies back on our side. The Treaty they signed with the Imperials provides for a good degree of wiggle room, which we can exploit to our advantage. Secondly, we can just talk the PCs into letting us do our thing. If not, we can do an Executive Order and sweet talk them into it later. And, we can work out something about the AIs. Don’t worry.” Robert laid the reassurances thick, and yet in his usual charisma, framed it in a tone that didn’t seem to smother Carla.

Carla was somewhat convinced, but still had some objections. She declared, “Worry? I’m just worried about what the people will think. They love us, they love you, but I do hear some rumblings. Quit Coredia’s the biggest of them. If this goes sour, you lose out. Big time.”

Robert sternly replied, “I know that. I know that I’m gambling. But I’ve made my choice. These people see Earth as the 13th Colony. If we join them, then we can have a voice in what occurs there. We know that our allies have stakes there, we can ensure ourselves a stake and ensure the Colonials’ livelihoods at the same time if we join.”

“Altruism, eh?”

Robert smugly replied, “What’s wrong with that?”

With warmth and friendly tone, Carla assured Robert with, “Well, I like altruism. But what about Realpolitik? Do we get anything else out of it?”

Another pause. No one spoke, as Robert tried to wonder about the actual benefits of it all.

Then, they both came to the same conclusion. Carla voiced it first.

“Wait. I know. You know how the Godulans still have that outstanding vendetta with us, since Mirfak? Word is that the 12 Colonies are aligned with them. We play our cards right, they have to play nice with us.”

Robert then said, “Carla, this is why we’re friends. I was thinking the same thing, sister. The same thing...”

Carla then smiled and said, “Okay. Let’s do this. Who gets to write the letter?”

Robert then said, “Lemme write the letter, I know I can stay cool for this.”

Carla then said, “Gotcha. Ooh, lemme inform the Abh about this, and assure them we’re doing this to help out Adama and company. Because that’s one benefit and worry I just realized….”

Hanging up, Robert got to work typing a letter out; Carla reviewed it and made some edits. The resulting missive was sent to the Quorum of Twelve—what was left of it—on Caprica, with the following text, carried there by the Jesuits in country (since New Dornalia didn’t have an embassy yet).

“To Whom It May Concern.

It is a frequent occurrence that destinies collide, but not so frequent that they collide in such a manner as this. We of the Thirteenth Colony, known as Earth, have learned about the existence of our Twelve Sister Colonies. While we are loath to use the word Colony to describe ourselves, being a people who prize their rights to life, liberty and property, we do recognize a kinship exists between our two sides.

It is with this kinship in mind that we wish to petition the Quorum of Twelve to sign the Articles of Colonization and join the Colonies of Kobol as a member.

There are several aspects to ourselves that we would like to point out; the Thirteenth Colony has diverged significantly from the rest of Colonial culture during this time; the most prominent concerns technology.

We know the Twelve Sister Colonies have a strong anti-Artificial Intelligence Stance, having suffered the depredations of the Cylons. The Thirteenth Colony has not suffered such problems, and as such uses Artificial Intelligence in its military vessels and to a lesser extent (in terms of quality) in its civil applications.

We are perfectly willing to negotiate a policy however, which disables these artificial units when our civil or military vessels and goods enter Colonial space (and allows the Sister Colonies to punish those who refuse this order), being sensitive to your history and situation and wishing to avoid incident.

We look forward to your reply as quickly as possible.

Sincerely,

Robert Ellison MacIntyre
Comrade Premier
Workers State of New Dornalia

Carla Tumlinson Baileygates
Commissar of Foreign Affairs
Workers State of New Dornalia"

A secret missive, meanwhile, was forwarded to the Abh Empire's embassy in Los Angeles as the other letter was sent out, explaining that "As part of the general mission to liberate the Colonies and promote their welfare, we intend to speak with them about signing the Articles of Colonization so that we may work from that end to accomplish our objectives. Know that we do not intend to hamper any present involvement you have with the Twelve Colonies, but we do intend to give you fair warning."

Caprica City
The Forum
08:42 Caprican Mountain Time

Michael Young just got to the office. It was his first day on the job, and he had just moved to Caprica City from Saggitarion. He could not believe the traffic, even after the civil war, the city was still a heavily populated area, and he had not expected to be sitting in traffic for two hours. He briskly walked over to his desk, as his rail thin body sweated in his black suit.

He could not believe all that had occurred recently. A terrorist attack on the Ares, after three months of peace. Quietly he bowed his head in silent prayer, before he began to work. “Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer. Thank you so much for the blessings that you have given the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, and please protect us from the evil that seems to be constantly trying to destroy her government and her people. Please take us into your arms, and the souls of all those who died yesterday.

As he was praying, a simple word was given in response. “Amen.” the man said.

The page looked up in shock, as he held his two idols that he was given over to at birth, Persephone, and Dionysus. Michael just stared at the strange garbed man in a black robe, wearing a golden t, on a stange beaded necklace.

Michael just looked at him, “May I help you?” he asked the man.

“Yes my son,” the priest replied, “I have been asked to give this document to your quorium, it is of the utmost importance.” the priest replied.

Michael just looked at the folder for a moment, wrapped with a thin red line to seal it. Michael then reached out to take it. “Sir,” Michael responded, “The Quorum is having an emergency meeting as we speak about the most recent attack on the Ares. I will be more than happy to give this document to Representative Zarak, once the meeting is concluded.

The old priest smiled, “That is fine my son, and may the glory of Christ be with you and your people during this traumatic time. God willing, you will not suffer like you did after the cylons.” the priest told the man.

Michael just looked at the man, “Thank you, and may the gods bless you as well.” he replied to the priest.

Michael shook his head at the priest as he left. He never understood the thirteenth’s colony monothiestic religion. “One God, who came down in flesh, and resurrected three days after death. It sounded more cylon than anything, but to each their own” Michael thought to himself.

With his left hand, he reached in and grabbed a knife and opened the document.

To Whom It May Concern.

It is a frequent occurrence that destinies collide, but not so frequent that they collide in such a manner as this. We of the Thirteenth Colony, known as Earth, have learned about the existence of our Twelve Sister Colonies. While we are loath to use the word Colony to describe ourselves, being a people who prize their rights to life, liberty and property, we do recognize a kinship exists between our two sides.

It is with this kinship in mind that we wish to petition the Quorum of Twelve to sign the Articles of Colonization and join the Colonies of Kobol as a member.

There are several aspects to ourselves that we would like to point out; the Thirteenth Colony has diverged significantly from the rest of Colonial culture during this time; the most prominent concerns technology.

We know the Twelve Sister Colonies have a strong anti-Artificial Intelligence Stance, having suffered the depredations of the Cylons. The Thirteenth Colony has not suffered such problems, and as such uses Artificial Intelligence in its military vessels and to a lesser extent (in terms of quality) in its civil applications.

We are perfectly willing to negotiate a policy however, which disables these artificial units when our civil or military vessels and goods enter Colonial space (and allows the Sister Colonies to punish those who refuse this order), being sensitive to your history and situation and wishing to avoid incident.

We look forward to your reply as quickly as possible.

Sincerely,

Robert Ellison MacIntyre
Comrade Premier
Workers State of New Dornalia

Carla Tumlinson Baileygates
Commissar of Foreign Affairs
Workers State of New Dornalia

Michael’s eyes dialated very wide as he nearly dropped his coffee mug. “Was this real?” he asked himself. “Was this the answer to his prayer?” He thought to himself again. Quickly he pressed a button on his phone.

“Tom Zarek’s office, this is Milinda, how may I help you?” the voice came over the other end.

“This is Michael Young, page to Representative Zarek, I need him to come down here right away.” he replied.

“I am sorry but Mr. Zarek is in a meeting with the Quorum, may I take a message.” she replied to the page.

“This is more important.” he replied, “Earth wants to ratify the Articles.” Michael exclaimed.

“Oh very funny.” Milinda replied. “Why would Earth want to do that?” she continued.

“I was just handed a letter by a Jesuit priest of the thirteenth colony. He came in no less than three minutes ago. Zarek needs to see this now.” Michael replied.

“I will send him a message, but if this is an elaborate joke, and you are interupting official government business I hope you understand the ramifications.” Milinda replied still in disbelief.

“Fine, just get him now.” Michael replied.

Forum of the Twelve Colonies

“We can not allow this to stand. We must tell the Admiralty and with a unified voice that we want to have access to that information concerning the attack on the Ares.” Representative Sophia of Virgon responded in anger.

“Yes I do concur with my partner from Leonis.” Zarek responded, “But do you really believe that Helena Cain will listen to the demands of the Quorium in matters that concerns the military.” he replied, as he took a sip of his water. “No what we must do is be patient. We must wait, for an oppritunity to come that will give us the leverage that we need to be able to enforce such demands.” Zarek responded.

“And just when will that time come?” Representative Baltar of Caprica asked. “We must show her that we are not to be ignored.” Baltar replied.

“Then what, let her storm the Quorum again, and shoot all of us. She has already allowed us to reform, but if she feels threatened by us, she will disband us and shoot us for treason. No, instead we need to work with her, in order to not only secure the freedom of our planets, but to also insure the last remnant of Federal Democracy in the Colonies.” Zarek responded. “There is more at stake than you enlarged ego, Dr. Baltar.” Zarek told his counterpart from Caprica.

The doors opened, as a man in a black suit walked up to Tom. The man began to whisper in his ear, as the rest of the Quorium began waited. “Gentleman and Ladies, may I ask for a brief recess.” he asked.

“Certainly, let us resume tomorrow.” The representitive of Canceron replied.

Zarek then got up and left the room. Within twenty minutes he arrived at the desk of the page. “I hear you have some important news.” Zarek responded.

Michael looked up in disbelief. Zarek was once a hero of the Saggitarion National movement, to try to get the planet free of the Articles. He spent over twenty years in prision, and was something of a folk hero to the people of Saggitarion. Now this George Washington of Saggitarion stood before him.

“Yes Mr. Zarek.” the man responded, nearly in shock as he handed the letter to the representitive.

Tom began to read the letter. “Who else knows of this?” he asked the page.

“Just Milinda, and perhaps the priest who brought this to me.” Michael responded.

“Good, this may be the leverage that we have been seeking. Dictate this letter and send it to Los Angeles SSR.” Zarek responded.

Michael turned on his computer and began to type.

“Dear President MacIntyre and Mrs. Baileygates,

The Quorum is grateful for your desire to join your sisters amongst the stars. Although you are correct with the cultural and technological differences between our peoples, I can assure you that a deal may be reached. According to the Articles of Colonization, Earth must be under a unified government, as well as the Articles pre-ratified by your peoples congress, before any such application can be submitted to the Quorum for approval.

In any event, I would like to extend a personal invitation once your people’s congress has approved the Articles, to Caprica City as my guest. Once here we can discuss in length your application to the Colonies of Kobol, as well as the concerns that the other Quorom members will have. With my help, as your friend, I am sure an agreement can be reached, to allow a mutually beneficial relationship of the United Colonies of Kobol to flourish.

Your friend,

Tom Zarek
Representative of Saggitarion
Quorum of Twelve
Caprica City, Caprica.”

Los Angeles, California, Earth SSR

The letter had arrived through the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, landing straight onto the desk of MacIntyre during one of his sober moments. The priest laid the letter on his desk with a simple, "A letter for you from Caprica, sent by the Mulcahy Mission. It seems rather important, it was marked secret." MacIntyre looked up at the Priest, and said, "Thank you, Father. You may go." The man left, and he opened the mail to read the letter--not an uncommon ritual in the Workers State, where paper mail and e-mail coexisted still.

“Dear President MacIntyre and Mrs. Baileygates,

The Quorum is grateful for your desire to join your sisters amongst the stars. Although you are correct with the cultural and technological differences between our peoples, I can assure you that a deal may be reached. According to the Articles of Colonization, Earth must be under a unified government, as well as the Articles pre-ratified by your peoples congress, before any such application can be submitted to the Quorum for approval.

In any event, I would like to extend a personal invitation once your people’s congress has approved the Articles, to Caprica City as my guest. Once here we can discuss in length your application to the Colonies of Kobol, as well as the concerns that the other Quorom members will have. With my help, as your friend, I am sure an agreement can be reached, to allow a mutually beneficial relationship of the United Colonies of Kobol to flourish.

Your friend,

Tom Zarek
Representative of Saggitarion
Quorum of Twelve
Caprica City, Caprica.”


"Hmm....I did put Comrade Premier on that, didn't I?" he muttered to himself. He chuckled; it was kinda obvious he was becoming more of a President than a Comrade Premier. The Communist window-dressing didn't hide much. He read the letter over twice to be sure, and called Carla with the news.

Carla's reply was merely, "I see they're biting."

Robert replied with, leaning back in his seat, "Biting? Carla, they're not just biting, they're inviting us over. Once we get the Articles ratified of course."

Carla rubbed her head, and thought out loud to herself as she replied, "There is that....yes..."

To that, Robert stopped, and said, dismayed, "I don't like it when your voice trails like that."

To that, Carla chuckled bitterly and said, "Well, you know how hard People's Congress can be to persuade. The people may be won over by your rock-star charm and your populist earnestness, but those Old Nomenklatura, those backdoor political dealers....they like something concrete. You know? When they hear anything about joining another nation, they will flip."

Robert then said, "Then we get a copy of the Articles of Colonization, and show it to them, and explain our intent. Okay? We interpret its provisions generously, and to our advantage, and then win them over and go home happy. The end. I don't know why this has to be difficult."

Carla quipped in reply, "Ask the Democratic Coalition that."

Session of the People's Congress, Los Angeles, Earth SSR, three days later

Since coming into existence as a fully fledged legislative body and not just a rubberstamp, the People's Congress had a colorful existence. Within its halls, debate occurred on a regular basis, laws were passed, and despite regulations, lobbyists still plied their trade. It was business as usual.

Or so it was until Robert MacIntyre printed out a copy of the Articles of Colonization and wrote a proposal around it. Now, in this session of People's Congress, broadcasted on ND-GAN (OOC: ND's C-SPAN), things were going to get very heated.

As the legislation was passed around, MacIntyre got up and said, "Mr. Chairman, may I speak?"

"The Comrade Premier has the floor," was the reply. As MacIntyre walked to the podium where he spoke many times on many things, he coughed and began to work his magic. Fortunately, Delirium Tremens had not set in, and he had cleaned up beforehand.

"Comrades, I come before you today with a proposal. It's by no means modest, nor is it all too common.

What you have in front of you is the Articles of Colonization. The governing document of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. A nation that, as we know, has been rent by war and bloodened by not only the forces of the Galactic Empire, but also some of our allies, most notably the Imperial Republic of Coreworlds in the course of their War of National Liberation. They have recently apologized for this, but the fact remains that both our allies and our enemies have been sucked into the vortex of the Twelve Colonies, and have not escaped without some blood on their hands.

Now, as I pass this document around, you may be asking yourselves, why am I bringing up this document or the Twelve Colonies? Because I want you to pay attention to where it mentions Earth."

A murmur went from the Congress.

"That's right, Earth. Our blue ball in space, one of many blue balls that claim to be the Earth, is named as a Thirteenth Colony of the Colonies of Kobol. How and why is unknown to our provenance at this point, but we do know that in their cosmology, we are one of their sisters in space. Our officers have had contact with the people of the Colonies, especially those of the Mulcahy Mission and those in the People's Navy. They attest to the fact Earth is considered a Sister Colony. Not just any, but the Thirteenth.

Which brings me to the bulk of my speech.

Having established a kinship by cosmology, it remains to establish my point. I intend to have the People's Congress ratify these Articles, and bring us closer together."

Another murmur. This time, angry shouts can be heard. MacIntyre holds his hand, and the Chairman bangs his gavel to get everyone settled.

"Now, I know what you're thinking. In these past three days, I've done my share of talking and wining and dining. I've heard things like, 'Maccy is at it again.' 'Maccy is going to make us spend more money for another one of his whims.' 'Maccy is selling us out, since these boys made a pact with the GE.'

Well, I urge you to look closely at those Articles. You will find they offer us a great deal of latitude. Legal analysts from UCLA have compared them with other documents, and have determined them to be close in nature to the old Articles of Confederation, the UN Charter, and the US Constitution. In essence, documents that espouse only the loosest of unities and the matenance of the essence of individual territories as they band those together in a collective cause.

In other words, if we were to ratify these Articles, then we stand a strong chance of keeping the Red Army, the People's Navy, and the unique essence of our Dornalian Revolution without having it being dissipated by others, whilst putting ourselves in a position to better the Twelve Colonies.

After all, there is a legendary case of one of the Twelve Colonies, Gemenon, refusing to legalize abortion when the other Colonies did. There is also the case that yes, they field a single navy. But, it has been documented that the Colonies have, on occasion, rejected request for military equipment and men. If that is not legal precedent for us keeping the distinct essence of our Dornalian Revolution intact, I do not know what is.

Also, I am aware of the Treaty of Caprica. But, as noted by the legal experts within the Commissariat for Foreign Affairs, it seems the Treaty does not actually make the Colonies a member of the GE and it does not actually obligate them to aid the GE militarily. So, if we ratify, there's nothing awkward about it; we can continue to keep our present stance, and say no to any resolution to honor the Caprica Treaty or otherwise just not pony up the resources.

Now, I know you may ask yourselves, why spend the money in the first place? We spend so much on Coredia. We spend so much on the Red Army and the People's Navy. Why should more taxpayers' dollars have to go to twelve scummy little planets?

Well, I would rethink that idea. I will read some documents from the Mulcahy Mission. Monsignor Alvarez at the Archdiocese has been kind enough to get some of the Mission's members to document what they have seen. I will pass these around, and let you see them for yourself."

With that, the pages passed around a packet of letters, diary excerpts, and even some pictures taken. When the accounts and visions of devastation, horror, and Kythons were seen, a gasp could be heard around the room.

MacIntyre then said, calmly yet firmly, "I will let that sink in. But I think those documents, more than any pretty words I could come up with, convey one of the major reasons why we must ratify these Articles. For unless we ratify, I think that suffering's just going to continue. We're in a good position, as allies of the Coredians and the Abh Empire, two of the nations who have stakes there, to influence them to do the right thing. We're in a good position, as the fated Thirteenth Colony, to provide the help these Colonials need to get back on their feet. And, the Kythons and the GE are in a position to pick up the slack, as they have already begun to do, should we fail. Can we allow them to make snack packs out of the Twelve Colonies under the guise of assistance? I think that's not an option for us. We have to step up. Now."

He then coughed, and said, "So, when you vote on this, I urge you to use your conscience. Think about your fellow human beings out there, who are battered about and storm tossed. Think about the suffering they are undergoing. Can we afford to let them stay suffering? Believe me, I have spoken with the Commissar for Foreign Affairs, her staff, the Joint Revolutionary Command and Control Center, and the Mulcahy Mission, and they gave me three options. Either we clumsily align ourselves in some sort of alliance and have to deal with middlemen who will negate our attempts at aid, go to war and ensure the Colonies become extinct, or join them and work from within to better their condition. I hope the necessity of the latter becomes obvious. Thank you."

Some murmurs, and then a vote. The Articles were ratified, by a (percent margin) of 60-40. And not without a lot of reservations, and more backroom dealings......including one that involved a tax cut, a bone to the Education and Trade Commissariats, and one that involved the creation of individual political parties.

Mulcahy Mission HQ (St. Xavier Church), Athens, Geminon, Twelve Colonies

With that, a simple message was forwarded through the Mulcahy Mission, and a letter, sealed in an envelope marked "Top Secret--Official Business," was given to Father Mulcahy, who was sitting at his desk.

It was a hard day for the imposing, if serene, Irish priest. The church he set up, St. Xavier's Relief Mission, was now more akin to a homeless shelter, school and hospital. Already today, he had supervised the acquisition of medical supplies, visited the pediatric ward of the hospital, watched a game of pyramid played in the Relief Mission's gymnasium and was duly confused, and even substituted for Brother Tomas' philosophy class when he reported a cold. And he still needed to write a sermon for Mass. Oh, the trials of priesthood.

The brother presented it to him, and said, "Father, a letter from the Thirteenth Colony."

Mulcahy picked it up and said, with a wry grin, "So, MacIntyre wants to use me as a messenger boy again. He should know I'm not the postman. Ah well, Zachary." He then handed it back to Zachary, and said, "My boy, give this to Brother Edson, and have him deliver it to the Quorum on Caprica. I do not read other's mail."

The young Colonial nodded, and moved off.

Quorum of Twelve, Caprica City

"So, we're here again."

Brother Edson sighed, holding the letter as he wandered the halls of the Quorum's meeting area. He never got used to the devastation, and the endless business of being a messenger boy. "And I came here to do the Lord's work. Guess He wanted me to deliver the mail," he muttered to himself.

He then walked to the secretary of Tom Zarek and bowed, saying, "Peace be upon you. I deliver a message from Earth. It seems rather important." He then put it on the desk.

The message would read:

"Dear Representative Zarek:

We have ratified the Articles, if you haven't already heard. When can we come over?

Sincerely,

Robert Ellison MacIntyre
Comrade Premier
Workers State of New Dornalia

Carla Tumlinson Baileygates
Commissar of Foreign Affairs
Workers State of New Dornalia"

Caprica City,
Caprica
Twelve Hours after the attack on the Warstar Ares.

Candles were light, as a pair of hands clasped together. Twelve men and women sat in a room as the smell of incense filled the air. A elderly woman, dark in skin color, stood up, holding a scroll in her hand. She opened it and read, “Lords of Kobol, hear our prayer. Today we have suffered a tragedy, the death of thousands, and the blessings of a new life with our wayward sister, Earth. Give this Quorum the wisdom to know the correct course of action, and the will to follow in your path.

The woman looked down and began to roll up the scroll. As the words vanished under the roller, one phrase was spoken aloud. “So say we all.”

Tom Zarek, the representative from Saggitarion, was the first to stand up. He was a tall man, a patriot, in a sense not to the Twelve Colonies, but to his home planet Saggitarion. “Thank you madam Oracle.” Zarek responded to the woman who offered the prayer.

She nodded to him.

Zarek cleared his throat. “I would like to begin this meeting to discuss something of the utmost importance, not only to the planet Saggitarion, not only of the Twelve Colonies, but instead, of the Thirteen Colonies of Kobol.” Zarek stated.

“Thirteen?” A woman spoke up.

Zarek turned to the representative of Canceron. “Yes.” he replied. He began to walk around, to the podium in the center of the room. From here he could clearly see, the Quorum before him. The twelve seats before him, each with the flag of the colony they represented behind them. “For some time.” Zarek began to speak, “Earth, the lost thirteenth colony of Kobol has been a myth. Nothing more than fantasy, and legend. A legend that was started on Kobol, and that has persisted to this day in movies and in television shows across science fiction networks across the colonies.” he stated, as he began his speech.

Zarek looked up to the Caprican Representitive, Dr. Baltar. “For months now, since the rebuilding of the colonies after the civil war, and the cylon attacks, in which all of our colonies suffered equally, in which all of our citizens were ignored in favor of the military, out of the many nations that came, and have our thanks, one group in particular stood out. The Jesuits. These people, who claim to be from our colony Earth, came with their arms open, to aid the people of Saggitarion.”

“That is all well and fine” The representative of Picon stated, but can you skip the poetic license, and get to the point of why we are talking about a bunch of cylon worshipers instead of the matter at hand of the terrorist attack?”

Zarek paused for a moment. “The reason we are discussing this.” he responded, “Is because as of yesterday, the Thirteenth tribe of Kobol, in their people’s Quorum, have ratified the Articles of Colonization in their People’s Congress. They have sent a representative, elected by that council, to represent Earth.” Zarek stated, as the bomb shell dropped.

The Quorom laid silent. Zarek turned, to the edge of the room. Ladies and Gentlemen of the Quorom, I give you, Ms. Baileygate, of the Planet Earth. As she walked up to the podium, Zarek, held his hand out to her, and gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek. He whispered in her ear, “You have them stunned, now is your time.” he said. He pulled back and smiled, and began to walk around to his chair. The floor was Earth’s.

Sheepishly, Carla smiled and chuckled when Zarek let loose his peck on the cheek. It was rather surprising, and forward--Dornalians usually had a good element of personal space--and she replied with a simple, "I'm flattered, Mr. Zarek."

Carla then did two things. One, she pulled out a bottle of water and opened it, sipping it and closing it. She then took out some note cards, and coughed. Looking at the audience, Carla commenced her talk.

"Thank you all for having me over today. I am Carla Baileygates, Commissar for Foreign Affairs from the Workers State of New Dornalia, or in this case, Earth--the Thirteenth Colony.

Now I couldn't initially believe it myself when I heard that when our people met yours, the Colonials addressed the Dornalian Workers and Peasants they met as being from the Thirteenth Colony. And I initially thought my friend and boss, Robert MacIntyre, was making a big gamble when he proposed ratifying the Articles of Colonization.

But now, looking at this esteemed Quorum, I think there's something to his proposal and the statements of those men.

Now, I've heard reports we're none too different. The esteemed Father Michael Mulcahy, S.J., better known to many Colonials as Father Mulcahy, spoke of many of these similarities when I was doing my research before coming here. I could go on and on about them, but since I have a point to get to, I'll speak of one. He mentioned how the Colonials he helped recognized the beef and potatoes and broccoli he fed the hungry on Sagittarion and Geminon. Maybe they used slightly different terms, but they knew those things well.

Now, you may ask yourselves, 'What did that crazy lady in front of us mean by that bit about food?' Well, food is a common symbol of culture, and the fact that both of us eat the same food is a good sign that maybe, despite the distance, the differing cosmologies and the mutual disagreement on the validity of Artificial Intelligence, we're not too different.

Now, I recognize that the Thirteenth Colony has plenty of differences from its Twelve Sisters. These were engendered by our time of seperation, which produced a divergent history. Many years ago, we were once divided among many nations, before a disastrous Apocalypse occurred. The Workers State originally started out as a small valley and city in a place called California, on the ashes of the old United States, one of many feuding post-Apocalyptic fiefs. However, with first contact, the Workers State experienced a Renaissance that brought the Earth back to its former glory, and unified it underneath one government as one whole Colony again.

One of these differences--and the biggest one, frankly--is that we use Artificial Intelligences and advanced technologies in our systems. You have a much less tolerant, and perfectly understandable view on that. I am willing to work out a compromise that will satisfy Earth and the Twelve Sisters. Perhaps some sort of exclusion agreement, where the Thirteenth keeps its advanced living machines out of the Twelve Sisters? There was precedent on Earth years and years ago; the land of New Zealand forbade nuclear-powered vessels from entering its ports. I could see a version of that arrangement occuring with Artificial Intelligences, and we could even help to enforce it.

It was this thought, among other assurances from my boss, that persuaded me to go forward with the ratification of the Articles of Colonization. And, we did that part. Earth ratified it in the People's Congress, though not without some obstructions to achieving our common destiny. You know how politics is.

So, it is with the fact we ratified the Articles, this inherent kinship in mind and the desire to help, that I would like to petition the Quorum of Twelve to accept the ratification of the Articles of Colonization by Earth and allow its entrance into this body. Thank you. if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask me."

Caprica City
First Cylon war
Day 1095
Articles of Colonization Convention.

Two people sat in a bar, the smoke was thick, as the drinks were poured. “Would you care for something, Mr. Lumigan?” a thin and tall Caprican man asked the representative of Geminion.

“No thank you.” the Gemininese man responded. “It is a sin in the lords eyes, to drink during such an important event as this.” the man responded. “Besides it leaves too much room for error.” the man responded.

“Fine have it your way.” the Caprican representative stated. “Right now, eleven of the Colonies have ratified our document, and you have not.” the Caprican responded. “Why have you not?”

The gemininse representative turned to his cigarette. Slowly he took a drag. “Because it is not all inclusive, nor is it a truly unifying document.”

“You know Saggitarion, nor Aeralon would allow for a stronger federal government. Those root suckers and farm hands value their own ideas way, over that of the collective wisdom of the Colonies.” the man said excusing the somewhat loose form of government that was being founded.

The Geminese man waved his hand, “No it is not that, and I concur with you “root suckers and farmhands” on this. I am referring to Earth.”

“Earth!” the Caprican protested. “What in the hell does a myth have to do with this?”

“We the people of Geminion, believe in a literal interpretation of the Sacred Scrolls. If you wish you unify the Colonies, to help combat the cylons, as well as bring order to our system, you must include the thirteenth tribe of Kobol.”

“Forgive me, but you must be frakking with me, Assuming it even exists, they have nothing to do with the Colonies. Hell, we do not even know where in the hell that planet is?” the Caprican responded.

“In any event, the scriptures say that before the end, the Colonies will be united, as the twelve go into the promised land of the thirteenth colony. In the event that Earth is found, and wishes Ratification, they must be pre-approved.” the Geminion said.

“Fine, we will pre-approve your myth.”

“Then we shall approve your articles.”

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

Caprica
Today

The Quorum each looked down at the frame work of the Articles of Colonization. What could they say, or what could they do. It was clearly stated, that if the thirteenth colony was found, and now it had, and that if they choose to join their brothers and sisters in the stars, that they will be allowed.

Some of the Quorum resented the idea, Earth, a place where cylons and Humans worked together, a nation that even had at least three religions based around the cylon religion, has come to ask for ratification.

“It would appear then.” The Canceron representative replied, “That due to the frame work of the Articles, that Earth is approved. I do not think we should challenge the articles, considering how the military has already nearly destroyed the document as it is.” she replied.

“I concur.” Zarek responded. “Ms. Baileygates, concerning your AI’s Earth is still a somewhat sovereign nation. Each planet can challenge, and even go against the laws of the federal republic of the government. So if your people’s congress elects, your cylons will be safe. But the laws of the other twelve Colonies are clear. Using, or production of AI, is punishable by death. Any corporation known to be using AI, will forfeit all of it’s assets on the colonies, to be auctioned off by the state. The CEO and Board, will then be charged with collaboration and treason, and sentenced to death. Keep your GRACIE units out of Colonial Space, or when you do come make sure they are turned off, and there will be no such problems. With that, Welcome to the Twelve... I mean Thirteen Colonies of Kobol.” Zarek said smiling.

“I take it then, that you will be the representative to the Quorum, Ms. Bailey, or do your people wish to elect someone else?” The Aeralon representative asked.

Carla smiled and said, "The arrangement regarding the Artificial Intelligences is acceptable; thank you, Mr. Zarek, and thank you, one and all." She wondered why Tom was being so benificent to her, but then again...she didn't ask too many questions. As long as he kept his personal space, he was cool. Though she wondered how the Colonials knew of GRACIE. Was it Wikipedia? Or something else?

Well, answering the representative of--Aeralon, was it?--I would like to say that I will have to elect another in my place. As much as I'd sincerely love to be here, I have a number of jobs already to do, which keep me busy."

She then walked around and passed out a sheet of paper, with a relatively thin woman's picture on it, bespectacled, in a tasteful suit, and with the name "Eileen Kung" and some biographical data. Carla then said, as she did so, "This is the person my people and I had in mind. This lady here will represent the Thirteenth Colony during her stay here. She's a people person, can hold her own in a debate, and like the rest of us at the Foreign Affairs Commissariat, an excellent public speaker. And, she's human."

The paper was bare bones. It would read somewhat curtly and businesslike, summarizing all the facts about Mrs. Kung thusly:

"Name: Eileen Ai-lin Kung, Ph.D.
Birthplace: Weston Hab, Luxembourgia SSR, Workers State of New Dornalia
Current place of residence: San Francisco, California, Earth SSR
Age: 36
Sex: Female
Blood type: O-
Occupation: Diplomatic Liasion at Commissariat of Foreign Affairs, part-time lecturer at University of California at Berkeley in Political Science. Former Acting Head of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors Office of Legislative Analysis (served one year term).
Bio:

Born to parents on the upper levels of the Weston Hab, mother a concert pianist who forbade rock music in the household, father a member of the Weston Hab City Council. Educated in primary and secondary school system until the age of 18, when Eileen won a series of scholarships to study at UC Berkeley.

Majored in International Politics with a minor in Urban Studies, got involved in Student leadership activities such as the UC Berkeley Japanese Animation Appreciation Club and the Asian Society. Got Ph.D. for Doctoral Thesis on Dornalian-Abh relations. Served an internship at Commissariat of Foreign Affairs which led her to sign up with the CFA later on--she has stated that despite the long commuting distance, she doesn't mind it due to the presence of the CalTrans PacExpress system.* Lectures occasionally to undergrad students with "Introduction to International Politics."

Temporarily stepped in to run SF Board of Supervisors OLA after the previous director resigned due to personal issues owing to experience with Urban Studies; has reportedly called the experience "one of the toughest assignments I had ever recieved."

Is married to James Inouye, an optometrist."

OOC: *CalTrans PacExpress--short for California Department of Transportation--Pacific Coast Express. Basically, a really friggin fast repulsorlift train with express service from San Francisco and the surrounding suburbs to Union Station and other stops in the LA area, along with other towns. Competes with various starship based services and private motor transport.

About a day later, Eileen Kung was voted as Earth's representative to the Twelve Sisters by the People's Congress Diplomatic Subcommittee. Not knowing what law to follow, some niggling from the Workers Supreme Tribunal eventually led the Subcommittee to exercise their authority to vote on Ambassadors to vote Eileen Kung onto the Quorum. As such, she was now on a Blue Eagle flight to Caprica, and entered the Quorum.

Having landed in country, Kung came with a laundry list of things to propose to the Twelve Sisters. A lot were her own ideas. A lot came from the men of the Foreign Affairs Commissariat. And some came from MacIntyre.

As it became her turn to speak, Eileen walked before the Quorum and said in a voice resembling what the folks in the Thirteenth would call a "New England" accent, "Good day, ladies and gentlemen of this esteemed body. Fellow delegates, as you all know I am here to represent the Thirteenth Colony. I look forward to a good working relationship with all of you, and hope to get a lot accomplished here in my term."

She then coughed. Pulling out a pad of paper, she then began talking in a comfortable, yet businesslike tone.

"I propose, first of all, an offer from the Thirteenth Colony. My people are eager to know more about its Twelve Sisters. We have heard many things, some hearsay, some good things, but we'd like to figure things out for ourselves. In turn, we would like you to familiarize yourselves with our culture, and how we work. So, to that end, I propose an exchange of Military Officers and Civilians--civilians in this case being those of an academic profession, as well as students.

In addition to this, we would like to aid our Twelve Sisters with whatever we can. To that end, there is an offer being floated by my Colony's Commissariat of Trade to help rebuild the merchant fleets of the Twelve Sisters and if possible contribute to the rebuilding of medical and transportation infrastructure. If possible, we'd also like to assist in the recovery of agricultural production as well as the rebuilding of cities and civilian industries that do not directly pertain to the military. I say the latter because the military seems to be doing fine as it is; let's focus on getting the people's welfare back to normal. We would be talking about a significant transfer of funds, supplies, medical equipment, food, and materiel. I recognize others have done their part. However, I feel that the job still needs to be done."

She then pulled out a flag that would certainly look odd to the assembled. It was somewhat simple, a piece printed on standard 11 1/2x 12" paper, the corners still retained per Earth traditions. She passed it around the Quorum.

"Finally, I propose a series of more possibly controversial measures.

I propose a revision of the present flag of the United Colonies. As you all know, it represents only the Twelve, not the Thirteen. This must naturally be rectified. I was coming up with some designs to symbolize Thirteen Colonies and I propose this one. It has thirteen stripes, the number of our Colonies, and a sun with thirteen rays on it to symbolize the united yet distinct nature of the United Colonies. (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v630/Senor_Nb3/1186802934511.jpg) (OOC: That pic came from 4chan, oddly enough. I'll photoshop in a 13th ray on that KMT Sun. Friggin' Photoshop....)

I also would like to call for a vote for President and an appropriate Cabinet. There is as of yet none such person and persons, and frankly I am sure none of you wish for this body to end up as a mere debating society while it is left behind in the scheme of things as they stand now. We are the Quorum, after all. It is time we began governing civilian affairs like we were meant to."

United, such a strong word. To take many and turn them into one. Such words were rarely spoken in the Colonies, let alone in the Quorum itself. The Twelve Colonies of Kobol had stood as a confederated government since it’s inception 60 some odd years ago. Even united under a loose government, the Colonies had always been divided. Each planet had it’s own judicial system, it’s own laws. The only time the Quorum was needed was for inter colony disputes, or to pass laws and regulations for all of the Colonies, which could be over written by the planet themselves. Needless to say, Representative Kung made a huge wave in her first day on the job.

As the Representative of Earth approached the Podium, the sister twelve representatives sat in anticipation. It was an unspoken rule for a honeymoon period to grace a new representative, a time, usually lasting 100 days, where their purposal did not under go as much scrutiny and debate as they would for the rest of the term. Today it would seem, Representative Kung would push that limit.

"I propose, first of all, an offer from the Thirteenth Colony. My people are eager to know more about its Twelve Sisters. We have heard many things, some hearsay, some good things, but we'd like to figure things out for ourselves. In turn, we would like you to familiarize yourselves with our culture, and how we work. So, to that end, I propose an exchange of Military Officers and Civilians--civilians in this case being those of an academic profession, as well as students.

Tom Zarek sat down, excited about her purposal. He prompted his arms up, as he listened to the obvious need for the program. “Madam Kung.’ he slowly rose out of his seat. I do not believe anyone here would object to your purposal. After all if we are truly confederated, then we should begin to bridge the gap between our people. Does anyone disagree with this purposal?” he asked confidently that no one would.

“Yes I have one question,” the representative of Caprica spoke up, Dr. Baltar. “Forgive me, madam Kung, but I must say that although your intentions are marvelous, how do you expect to rectify the situation. The Military of Earth might be united under the civilian government, but since our civil war, and the military rule of the Colonial Fleet, these lovely gentlemen, Baltar says, as he points to the marines, “Are kindly preventing us any ability to rule on the military. How do you expect that we begin a trade program, and ratify it without these men and women shooting us, as they have been wont to do in the past.” he replied.

As he spoke, the marines began to get nervous. Some of them slowly gripped their rifles slightly tighter.

In addition to this, we would like to aid our Twelve Sisters with whatever we can. To that end, there is an offer being floated by my Colony's Commissariat of Trade to help rebuild the merchant fleets of the Twelve Sisters and if possible contribute to the rebuilding of medical and transportation infrastructure. If possible, we'd also like to assist in the recovery of agricultural production as well as the rebuilding of cities and civilian industries that do not directly pertain to the military. I say the latter because the military seems to be doing fine as it is; let's focus on getting the people's welfare back to normal. We would be talking about a significant transfer of funds, supplies, medical equipment, food, and materiel. I recognize others have done their part. However, I feel that the job still needs to be done."

As she finished her second purposal, the quorum nodded. “If Earth wishes this to be done, then we will embrace her.” Kathy Felix, replied, the Representitive of Tauron. “Are any in objection to this motion.?” she asked. No one said a word. “Then the motion is passed.” she said.

She then pulled out a flag that would certainly look odd to the assembled. It was somewhat simple, a piece printed on standard 11 1/2x 12" paper, the corners still retained per Earth traditions. She passed it around the Quorum.

"Finally, I propose a series of more possibly controversial measures.

I propose a revision of the present flag of the United Colonies. As you all know, it represents only the Twelve, not the Thirteen. This must naturally be rectified. I was coming up with some designs to symbolize Thirteen Colonies and I propose this one. 1. It has thirteen stripes, the number of our Colonies, and a sun with thirteen rays on it to symbolize the united yet distinct nature of the United Colonies.

Time seemed to stand still, for a moment, as she spoke. Silence filled the air, as the tension grew. Even Zarek somewhat was astounded by the notions. He soon stood up, “Although I do agree with the need of a new flag.” he said as he seemed just slightly apprehensive, “in which will represent us all, you choose slightly unusual wording... united... he replied.

The other members began to whisper. “Never before in our history have our colonies any of our colonies been under the term united.” The Canceron representative responded. “How do you wish for this to occur, a simple name change or a stronger federal government?” another representative finally asked. Then the answer soon came.

also would like to call for a vote for President and an appropriate Cabinet. There is as of yet none such person and persons, and frankly I am sure none of you wish for this body to end up as a mere debating society while it is left behind in the scheme of things as they stand now. We are the Quorum, after all. It is time we began governing civilian affairs like we were meant to."
Silence filled the room, as the marines locked their hands tighter on the rifles. People were tense, their eyes widened as fear gripped them. Zarek was the only one to speak as he stood up. “I ask for a recess.” he motioned quickly.

“We concur, we will meet back here tomorrow.” the Libra representative spoke quickly, as if a bomb had just exploded near by. “Tomorrow at 9 am.” Quickly the quorum got up and walked out of the room.

Kung took one look at the Marines in the room and just stared blankly. This was going to be a harder job than she expected. It seemed that, sure enough, the rumors were true. Just like when she worked for Mayor Menendez in San Francisco, she was stuck in a government cowering underneath the weight of an outside force. Only Menendez didn't have the power of a full military establishment.

It was also clear that these folks were not used to the idea of seeing themselves as a unified government of sorts. Again, her readings on the Colonial State in the Commissariat's library had briefed her somewhat on the confederated nature of the Colonies, but it was quite eye-opening to be greeted like she had just had a wardrobe malfunction in front of a group of nuns when she used the word "United."

And, judging by the motions of the Marines, she knew she was in for trouble if that happened again. No one reached for a gun in the habs of Luxembourgia unless they wanted to make it draw blood; she recognized right away that the Marines were eager to do the same to this out-of-towner, with her funny and dangerous ideas. She'd have to be careful, even if she was the belle of the ball.

At once, she exited the room, and took her materials out with her. She also began thinking of ways to answer Baltar's question and the Canceron rep's one. The Canceron rep was easy to answer enough. A simple name change was all that would suffice. But Baltar...oh, Baltar. Kung would find him a tougher nut to crack.

She walked to Zarek, and said calmly and with no small sense of confusion, "Mr. Zarek, would you like to explain what I just saw?"

Tom Zarek, turned around, his face filled not with anger but concern. He was a strong man, especially when it came to his conviction. “I would love to but not in here, please come with me.” he said to her. He opened up a notebook, and began to look like he was reading something, as they stepped outside. The sun was beaning down on the white rock. Children were outside playing and talking boisterously, as they threw a small brown ball around inside a pyramid court.

“Madam Kung.” Tom Zarek replied, as he walked next to his colleague somewhat nervously, as he constantly looked over his shoulder. “I am glad you are here, and I am very glad that you asked those questions. Although I hate to say it, during the civil war the civilian government was destroyed, down to the last cabinet member.” he said as he constantly looked over his shoulder.

He turned his head to her, and looked in her eyes. “Now I am not one for running, but the military presence in the Quorum is to insure that we the quorum, which the colonies would not be held together without, do not try to impose any rules or regulations on the Military, and more specifically the admiralty. Cain might be a good military leader, and she might be all that is holding us together, but she is a dictator. No matter how she tries to look, she is a tyrant.” he said.

He then sighed, “However she is not even the biggest concern. Her second in command is truly a blood thristy bitch. Cain might be ruthless, but she has honor and has the best intentions of the Colonies. Hallen though, is the Chronosian’s lapdog, but we can not prove it. If Cain is removed, and Hallen takes command, well I honestly fear for the “Twelve Sisters” as you call us.

He then sighed, “However she is not even the biggest concern. Her second in command is truly a blood thristy bitch. Cain might be ruthless, but she has honor and has the best intentions of the Colonies. Hallen though, is the Chronosian’s lapdog, but we can not prove it. If Cain is removed, and Hallen takes command, well I honestly fear for the “Twelve Sisters” as you call us.

Kung then stoically and dismayedly replied, "So it is true, then." She looked at the children and said, "Good Lord." She said nothing else, but her face betrayed distress at the situation she was confronted with. What now? It was plain to see she had to deal with not only a well-intentioned generalissimo, but an apparently Chaos-worshipping second whom given the opportunity would turn the Colonies into one great charnel house.

Kung then replied, sardonically, "And here I am, the belle of the Colonial Waltz. I'm supposed to be taken out for a dance but instead no one can keep up with my steps." She then got up and said, "Then very well, as Mr. Baltar so pointed out, the Military is in charge. Therefore, I will have to arrange to meet with Admiral Cain myself to put forth my proposal concerning the military Officer Exchange. I have done that before in my career before university chancellors and Mayors of important cities, I can do it again."

Several hours later, A raptor came down to Madame kung. Once onboard, she was taken into Caprican orbit. The raptor slowly approached the new Colonial Flag.

As she exited, a marine detachment awaited her. Each saluted the newest member of the Quorum. Madam Kung.” one young Sergeant said, “If you will come with us, the Admiral is waiting.”

She soon found herself twisting up and down the hallways of the massive ship. The walls were kind of bland, an octagon shape, with gray panels, and florescent lights. AS she walked by, soldiers saluted her and kept walking. Eventually she reached the Admiral’s doors. The marine knocked, as the bulkhead door slid open.

“Come in.” a voice replied. As Madam Kung walked in, there before her was the “tyrant of the colonies.” Admiral Cain smiled, ‘Madam Kung.” she said, as the admiral wore her blue uniform. “Would you care for a drink?”

(Awaiting response.)

“Well on behalf of the Thirteen Colonies of Kobol, I would like to welcome you to the Colonial Fleet.” she said amiably. “Tell me, representative, what brings you to the Isis?

(sorry for the one line, but I will not be on for a few days so I wanted to get the post out. For details imagine Cain's room from the episode of Pegasus, and imagine you are walking in that ship. Yes the tommy gun is there too.)

Madame Kung sized up her adversary. A relatively plain woman. A paradoxical mix of unassuming amiability and imperious bearing. Tall. Blue, neatly pressed, formed, well-kept uniform. Steely eyes and a bearing about herself that screamed "Military Officer" and "Career Woman." She recognized the latter in herself; Eileen had seen that look in the mirror when adjusting her collar. The military retainers she kept on standby certainly were a commanding presence and she only greeted them with a nod.

Kung looked about the room, looking at Cain briefly as she said, "A glass of water, with some ice and a lemon wedge."

A Thompson, presumably an M1928 model, was on the wall in a cabinet. So were some swords, other weapons, and all sorts of fun things related to the business of battle. She smiled and quipped, "One could open a War Museum with this collection."

Secretly, she thought less kindly of the weapons. The Thompson took her back to the Lowlevels of Weston Hab, where an Irish Mob gang ruled using the Tommygun as their signature weapon. Inside, she winced; she recalled a time when she saw a man in a balaclava and camo tear a man in half with a long spray of .45 ACP from one of those beastly things. The image never left her.

Kung then pulled herself away from the flashback with an "Well, time to go to work, eh?" She then pulled out her documents from the same Standard Issue briefcase all Dornalian diplomats seemed to have. She laid them neatly on the table for the Admiral to read and said, folding her hands, "Admiral, I brought this before the Quorum yesterday only to find their hands tied. It concerns two things. An exchange of military officers and an exchange of civilians, especially academics and students between the Thirteenth Colony and the Twelve Sisters."

She then leaned in and her hands began moving in a restrained manner as she spoke. Her lecture skills and Commissariat of Foreign Affairs Public Speaking Coursework came in handy here, as Cain would hear picture perfet diction and all the razzledazzle a Dornalian Diplomat could muster.

"The purpose would be to surmount the existing cultural boundaries that exist between our two sides. After all, we from Earth don't understand too much about the Sisters. The Sisters likewise know us mostly as the equivalent of folk creatures, things from children's bedtime stories.

I intend to counteract that with a sort of cultural dialogue, to get an understanding for both parties of how the other half lives and maybe even work out the groundwork for future cooperation.

The Miltary Officers would be drawn from Earth's People's Navy and People's Navy Marines vis-a-vis the Colonial Fleet and Marine Corps. Those officers who pass a selection process involving a Non-Disclosure Agreement and background checks--after all, nobody wants sensitive information to be leaked out--would be allowed to spend a term in the other faction's respective navy.

For example, a People's Navy officer would spend some time on a Colonial Fleet vessel doing her part. And in turn, a Colonial Fleet officer would spend time on one of the fine vessels of the People's Navy. They would get some training to familiarize themselves with the customs and ways of their host service, and then spend time.

The Academics and Students would be chosen from each group using a process involving grade averages and a selection essay and would go to our universities and secondary schools to study and live among the various populations where they would absorb the local culture and maybe get a good education at the same time. I am thinking about the idea of a bursary or study abroad scholarship to go with it, but I am as of yet unsure as to what you would think of the idea."

Headstrong (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JwM1n1WLevc)

Admiral Cain stared down this woman of the thirteenth colony. She seemed intelligent, cunning, and proud. Of all the humans that the twelve colonies had met, there was little doubt that these people from Earth were truly the lost tribe of Kobol. Aside from the strange dialect and customs, certain traits still existed. Proud, sovereign, and above all else the seeming tenacity to live and succeed beyond all odds. How brave this woman was to come to the Admiral of the Fleet, and present such a bold claim, when there was little relationship between the “Twelve sisters” and the “thirteenth colony”. Cain could only smile. Had this woman been born in the Twelve Colonies, she would have made one hell of an admiral.

As Representative Kung spoke about the museum, Admiral Cain turned her gaze, as she handed her the ice water with lemon that she asked for. “They are all classics, and the root of modern weaponry. I do love the classics.” she replied, as she continued to try to gauge this woman. “What was her real motivation, what did she truly want?” Cain could not help but wonder.

She turned to face down this politician, looking into her eyes, seeing the lust for power that all politicians had. Then came the real request.

Admiral Cain said nothing, as she placed her hands on the table, looking at this quorum representative and listening to her requests. How Cain loathed the Quorum, their self serving politicians were always trying to destroy the safety and security of the Colonies.

After Kung had finished, Cain pulled her hands away from the table. “If you want students and academics, that is the business of your council.” she told the Representative plainly. “Make your motions in the Quorum, but from my reports, you already have and they agreed to the student exchange. However, the problem came when you asked for the military exchange.” Cain replied. “I know you are new here, so I will cut you some slack on breach of protocol.” Cain said to the Representative, letting her know that she was forgiven, but also hinting at the fact that she should not try to take military matters to the Quorum.

Cain turned and stared at the Flag of the Colonies. “I hear that you want to change our flag. Ms. Kung.” Cain replied. She turned her head to the representative, “ Then again a lot of changes have been coming, so maybe it is fitting.”

Cain turned and walked back to her desk. She lifted a folder, and placed it in front of the Representative. It was simply labeled “Earth”. As Kung opened it, she could see blogs on the holo-net calling Cain a puppet, the protests from some of the people in the streets about the ratification, and the public records of the pain it was to get the ratification through the people’s congress. Nothing that was not public knowledge was in it. Cain smiled, “I know how Earth thinks and feels of the Twelve, what do you call us “sisters?” Cain replied. “Not that it matters, it would seem that we are now one nation, confederated as all the colonies are.” she told Kung.

Cain looked down, “I will grant your request. After all how can we truly work together, if you see us as a puppet of the Empire. How can we work with you, when Earth is seen as the lap dog of Coredia.” Cain said as she stared in the eyes of Kung once more. “I am going to tomorrow, ask for Katrina Masaki to be handed over to the” Cain paused for a moment, “The Thirteen Colonies of Kobol.” she responded. “Let your president know that I have agreed to the exchange, and that I want to meet with your top Admiral to discuss the integration of the crews and the fleets. Will that be all?” She asked Kung. “I will expect your Admiral to be here in relatively short time.” she responded, as she wrote down on a piece of paper, a code. “Have him Broadcast this, at the red line, so we do not think an enemy is trying to invade. After all Allies and Enemies are becoming quite blurred these days. Also let your president and Admiral know that I want a complete list of IDC's for all earth based ships. You can pick ours up on the way out, the arrangements have been made. We should know after all if it is our sister coming not another robber, do you not agree?”

As Ms. Kung looked down at the code, it was a simple code, written in the language of the Colonies, which was an version of greek, αδελφή η Η αγαπητή αδελφή μας

Kung listened to Cain talk. Her initial judgment wasn't off. Indeed, she got the feeling Cain was sizing her up too. Perfectly logical, since Kung was the unknown quantity in this devil's equation. Then again, when you entered a fiddle contest with the devil, things did get hairy.

She wrote down the requests methodically in shorthand on a notepad, nodding as she listened to each one.




After Kung had finished, Cain pulled her hands away from the table. “If you want students and academics, that is the business of your council.” she told the Representative plainly. “Make your motions in the Quorum, but from my reports, you already have and they agreed to the student exchange. However, the problem came when you asked for the military exchange.” Cain replied. “I know you are new here, so I will cut you some slack on breach of protocol.” Cain said to the Representative, letting her know that she was forgiven, but also hinting at the fact that she should not try to take military matters to the Quorum.

Kung got that much out of Cain. She made a mental note to herself--"Consult Cain about military matters, put her on my control freak list."

Cain turned and stared at the Flag of the Colonies. “I hear that you want to change our flag. Ms. Kung.” Cain replied. She turned her head to the representative, “ Then again a lot of changes have been coming, so maybe it is fitting.”

She then nodded, saying, "Yes."

Cain turned and walked back to her desk. She lifted a folder, and placed it in front of the Representative. It was simply labeled “Earth”. As Kung opened it, she could see blogs on the holo-net calling Cain a puppet, the protests from some of the people in the streets about the ratification, and the public records of the pain it was to get the ratification through the people’s congress. Nothing that was not public knowledge was in it. Cain smiled, “I know how Earth thinks and feels of the Twelve, what do you call us “sisters?” Cain replied. “Not that it matters, it would seem that we are now one nation, confederated as all the colonies are.” she told Kung.

Before Kung could finish her bit about the flag, Cain produced the documents. She looked at some of them with a nod and a look of heavily muted dismay. Kung recognized some of the students she taught in those blog posts. Poor bastards! They were now notes for the fiddle duel. And Kung could only sigh inside. She got the feeling Cain was contemplating stamping the mark of hypocrisy on the people of Earth. Not that Cain could be blamed, but still....it was somewhat disconcerting. Fortunately, Kung kept her emotions to herself.

Cain looked down, “I will grant your request. After all how can we truly work together, if you see us as a puppet of the Empire. How can we work with you, when Earth is seen as the lap dog of Coredia.” Cain said as she stared in the eyes of Kung once more. “I am going to tomorrow, ask for Katrina Masaki to be handed over to the” Cain paused for a moment, “The Thirteen Colonies of Kobol.” she responded.

Kung nodded. Something else told her that Cain was turning those nasty 4chan posts on her, almost accusingly. Kung made a note of this; she had to watch for Cain's people, who seemed to enjoy lurking Dornalian blogs and YouTube posts. Zarek was right. Kung only said, "mhm" to the news of the Masaki Rendition.

“Let your president know that I have agreed to the exchange, and that I want to meet with your top Admiral to discuss the integration of the crews and the fleets. Will that be all?” She asked Kung. “I will expect your Admiral to be here in relatively short time.” she responded, as she wrote down on a piece of paper, a code. “Have him Broadcast this, at the red line, so we do not think an enemy is trying to invade. After all Allies and Enemies are becoming quite blurred these days. Also let your president and Admiral know that I want a complete list of IDC's for all earth based ships. You can pick ours up on the way out, the arrangements have been made. We should know after all if it is our sister coming not another robber, do you not agree?”


Kung nodded and said, smiling and sipping from her glass, "Verily. Security's at a premium these days."

As Ms. Kung looked down at the code, it was a simple code, written in the language of the Colonies, which was an version of greek, αδελφή η Η αγαπητή αδελφή μας

She made a note of this. "Greek, eh?" Kung thought. She then said, letting out a "heh," "I must say Admiral, you've done your research." She then grew serious and said, "I do apologize for some of the forum posts, really. Some kids....they have too much time on their hands, really. That's time better spent on studying for exams, instead of doctoring photos for the purposes of juvenile humor. That's not all of us, I assure you."

Kung then looked at the ceiling in thought, and then said, clapping in surprise, "About your other question, if I had any.......Oh, yes! I had another question." Turning to Cain, she said, "About the flag--am I to construe that as approval, or no?"

Cain laughed slightly for a moment. "Are you serious?" she asked Ms. Kung. "Listen," Cain replied, "I am the one that ordered the Quorum to be re-established after the civil war." she replied. "I do not hate, or dispose of democracy, nor am I some crock pot dictator." she replied. "I only care about the safety and security of the Colonies, all of them even Earth." she replied.

She turned to her flag, "Have you noticed that the populace enjoys the right to freedom of speech. Your students artwork, and blogs are covered under that. I am not the least bit concerned if Earth or any colonial thinks ill of me. As long as our children can sleep tonight, and wake up in the morning without some toaster in their face, or some WMD being dropped on them, then I have done my job. Civilians often lose sight of that. If you and the Quorum want to change the flag be my guest. I do not care about the civilian matters, I want to make sure all of the colonies, even Earth survive and have a future." Cain replied in retort. "Whether from civil war, ally or enemy attacks, I will not comprimise our security. Now take that for what you will, and think of me anyway you wish, but that is my mission, and I will do anything to complete that mission."

"Change the flag or do not I do not care. Just rule your population fairly, and leave the military matters alone, unless you consult me and it will be a peaceful merger. Any further questions, Ms. Kung?"

Cain laughed slightly for a moment. "Are you serious?" she asked Ms. Kung. "Listen," Cain replied, "I am the one that ordered the Quorum to be re-established after the civil war." she replied. "I do not hate, or dispose of democracy, nor am I some crock pot dictator." she replied. "I only care about the safety and security of the Colonies, all of them even Earth." she replied.

She turned to her flag, "Have you noticed that the populace enjoys the right to freedom of speech. Your students artwork, and blogs are covered under that. I am not the least bit concerned if Earth or any colonial thinks ill of me. As long as our children can sleep tonight, and wake up in the morning without some toaster in their face, or some WMD being dropped on them, then I have done my job. Civilians often lose sight of that. If you and the Quorum want to change the flag be my guest. I do not care about the civilian matters, I want to make sure all of the colonies, even Earth survive and have a future." Cain replied in retort. "Whether from civil war, ally or enemy attacks, I will not comprimise our security. Now take that for what you will, and think of me anyway you wish, but that is my mission, and I will do anything to complete that mission."

"Change the flag or do not I do not care. Just rule your population fairly, and leave the military matters alone, unless you consult me and it will be a peaceful merger. Any further questions, Ms. Kung?"

Kung was taken aback by Cain's reply. Not because of its content--after all, it was true Cain had allowed the Quorum to live with a modicum of power. And, in Kung's own experience, people like her could find ways, truthful or not, to justify anything. Dealing with people like Mayor Menendez had taught her that.

No, it was the tone of her candor. It seemed rather odd for her to laugh it off and proudly proclaim democracy like she did, considerning the fact the Fleet really ran the show. It was her turn to be perplexed, just as perplexed Cain was when she sized up Kung earlier in the meeting. Not that Kung said that.

She merely nodded, and said, "No further questions, Admiral. It was a pleasure doing business with you--though its Comrade Premier MacIntyre who rules the roost on Earth." before giving her a hearty handshake and leaving. As she shook Cain's hand, Kung sized her up one more time.

As she left with code in hand to deliver the news, she made a mental note to herself, evaluating what she thought of Cain.

"Note. Very dangerous opponent. Has conviction. Uncompromising. Control Freak. Capable of sudden turns of emotion and great strength. Amiable, but not to be trifled with. Has a gift for gab. Would make an excellent People's Congresswoman."

Back in her office, Kung sent off the necessary data packets to the Commissariat of Foreign Affairs. Code and all, coded with Dornalian diplomatic codes and all those precious things to keep them away from prying eyes. She had a hunch she was glad that she was still using Dornalian Diplomatic Code--something told her if Cain's men were smart enough to visit Dornalian #chan sites, they would eventually get around to the comms.

The comms sent to Earth, CFA forwarded them to the right people.....

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

JRCCC, San Diego, California, Earth SSR

San Diego may have been smaller and less rushed than Los Angeles, its big sister to the north, but the halls of JRCCC carried the rush of LA with them. Hustling and bustling with enough computers, filing cabinets, mailroom clerks pushing carts, soldiers talking with military contractors and big shots to fill a city, JRCCC was indeed a busy place.

But the secretary searching for Supreme Admiral Christiaan De Bruyn was sadly dismayed that despite having fought another mailboy for the right of hallway space and such, she had found De Bruyn's office empty. Fretting, she asked the secretary out front, "Where is Supreme Admiral--"

The secretary said, sighing, "Honey, he's probably out hunting. You can never keep that man in his office."

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

OOC: Spoken dialogue in italics is in Afrikaans.

IC:

Somewhere 50 miles outside of Vryheid, South Africa, Earth SSR

The High Veldt of South Africa opened before the couple of people on horseback, with its rolling grasses, its open sky and rugged beauty. Christiaan De Bruyn preferred this to the office in San Diego. He often said, "I'd rather be on my face in the mud out in the rough, than clean and proper in an office in front of some damn report." Raised on a remote homestead and encouraged by his father to make something of himself, his was a tale of "country boy makes good." And boy did he make good, being Supreme Admiral!

However, per his custom, he was here. The old High Veldt kept calling him back, and as usual he was engaged in one of his usual pastimes. Hunting. In this case, it was to take down a warthog.

Normally, he found them easy to get, having hit plenty as a kid. Today, this was different. The Remington 700 he had acquired in San Diego was failing to produce results, and he found himself switching to a .338 Lapua Magnum rifle. An Accuracy International. Unorthodox yes, but this was an unorthodox warthog--a product perhaps, of the Apocalypse the Dornalians seemed to fixate on.

And, as De Bruyn spotted his quarry, he and his South African Elf--er, make that Trekboer, they prefer that term--companion and Adjutant/Aide-De-Camp, Lyndie Uys, moved closer to the objective. Once close, they dismounted, and Christiaan asked Lyndie in a hushed tone, "Please pass me a clip."

Lyndie obliged, and he leveled the rifle, getting in position and zeroing in. This was his one chance. Lyndie didn't have much more .338 Lapua Magnum left.

BAM!

The shot connected. The hog flailed for a bit, then turned to De Bruyn. He moved the bolt quickly, and fired another shot--this one a snap shot, for the warthog looked ready to do him harm and Lyndie pulling out a .500 S&W Magnum revolver to take care of the beast in case.

The beast died, fortunately, and as De Bruyn got up, a voice said, "Nice shot."

He turned, and was greeted by a man in People's Navy dress. De Bruyn and Lyndie were in khaki, and definetly underdressed. De Bruyn saluted, and said with some dismay, "I suppose you have business with me, since you've interrupted a good hunt." He motioned to Lyndie, saying, "Lyndie--take the warthog, prep him for transport back to home base." The woman nodded, and pulled out a k-bar and field dressing gear.

The PN man handed him and note and said, "It's from JRCCC. They want you. Or more precisely, Admiral Cain does."

Christiaan's eyebrow raised at the mention of Cain.

"Cain? Why her? She's in the Twelve Colonies, yes?"

The PN Man said, "Well, Supreme Admiral....you did hear about the merger, yes?"

De Bruyn nodded and said, sighing, "Ah yes, that thing." He seemed to regard it with some contempt, but orders were orders. He looked at the letter and it spelled out what was to occur.

"I see. I am to visit her, and negotiate the terms of an officer exchange. Proposed by one Eileen Kung." He then let out a "humph," saying, "Damn politicians. Tell us what to do, don't even ask our permission." He then said, looking at the PN Man increduolously, "And they wonder why I like it better out here!" He then went to his horse, a BaSotho Pony, and put the rifle back in its bag, unloading its ammunition and cleaning it up, saying, "Right. Well, I'll get dressed. Put on my uniform. I may as well come in something impressive too--show off national strength for making us go through all that trouble. What ships are available?"

The PN Man said, "The Big Gun, sir."

Christiaan laughed, replying, "A beast like that? Perfect! Besides, you mentioned it just because I used to command it, didn't you?" The PN Man nodded, and then said, "Well that's fine. We're all a bit tired at the moment."

After finishing cleanup, he said to the PN Man, "Right. Have the Big Gun prepare for departure along with a force of Mao Zedong Mark III Pocket Battleships. Say, five or six. Nothing too big, I don't want a war. Oh, and this is the Twelve Sisters? Then we must disable the AI systems, have the Engineers onboard put their vessels into Manual Mode. I don't want to be sued. Also, that message mentioned something about a code for me--I'd like to see it!"

The PN Man handed him a red envelope.

De Bruyn replied with a smile and a, "Good." Turning to Lyndie, who had cleaned herself up, he then said, "Lyndie, good show. Let's head to the homestead...we both need to get cleaned up. Our meeting's due soon." Lyndie nodded, and then saddled her horse; Christiaan did the same and said to the PN Man, "I will see you at my ranch." He then left, saying to Lyndie, "Let's go, Adjutant!"

The Red Line
Five Days after the surrender of Katrina Masaki

The Warstar Isis, floated at the furthest reach of Colonial Space. Her sixteen massive engines, shined brightly, as a slight trail of light followed her. Normally the warstar, the flag of the Colonial Navy would have had more important things to do, especially during such a turbulent time. Remiel himself was at the colonies, the Empire since news of Masaki’s surrender had been flooding the Colonial Military, as well as the Quorum for extradition requests, not seeming to care at all if Caprica and the Colonies as a whole had their justice. Above all else there was the safety and security of Katrina Masaki, until such time as the trial was concluded.

Today was different though. Admiral Cain stood watch in the CIC, as the draidus pulsed back and forth along the Red Line. Along side of her two squadrons of vipers flew their patrols, along side the massive Colonial ship.

Helena, looked over to the clock, 16:59. She was not sure if this Admiral of earth would show up. Would she have shown up, if the Twelve sisters joined earth? Time would tell.

“One minute til eta of Earth’s Fleet Admiral.” Mr. Hoshi replied.

Admiral Cain, turned and nodded in acknowledgment.

She turned her head back to the Draidus over head. She stared at it, waiting in expectation. This meeting, with someone of Earth’s Military would certainly be historical. Even more so, at least she could respect someone of the military. Unlike that self serving woman, Kung.

“Draidus contacts, 3, no 4, sir... seven contacts.” Mr. Hoshi said.

Admiral Cain turned to him, “Confirmation of Code?” she asked.

He placed his hand to his ear piece. “Sister, our dear sister.” came over the coms. “Comfirmation received.” Admiral Cain turned to Mr. Hoshi. “Then lets do this.” She reached down, and picked up the phone. “This is Isis Actual, to the Earth Flagship. Welcome to the Twelve Colonies. On whose ship would you like to meet?”

NDS Big Gun

The bridge of the Big Gun was much larger and more technologically sophisticated than that of the Colonial vessel in front of it--befitting, since the Big Gun was no less than Fourteen Kilometers of Dornalian Firepower, being a Mao Zedong Mark IV class vessel joined with several Mao Zedong Mark III Pocket Battleships, which at 3km would still prove quite large.

The consoles hummed, even without Gracie's everchirping presence. It took the men some getting used to, but they seemed to be handling it rather well, given that Manual Mode meant not only were the men in charge, but also limited automation--equivalent to the modern workforce--kept everything together. It did require calling up some more PN enlisted and officers out of other duties and reserves, but the Supreme Admiral was generally not to be denied. The men worked, and the message popped up on one of De Bruyn's windows. It was audio only, and that was fine.

He said to Comms, "Open a channel."

Channel duly opened, Christiaan began his reply.

Admiral Cain's message would be met with the reply of a man speaking in an odd accent, reminisicent of a mixture of Dutch, Caprican/English and German/Low Country with a good deal of strength about it from his own person that would no doubt reverberate around Cain's vessel. "Isis Actual, this is the NDS Big Gun, Supreme Admiral Christiaan De Bruyn of the New Dornalian People's Navy speaking. I would rather like it if you came aboard my ship. I hear we have much to discuss, hey?"

The consoles hummed, as the soft ping of the draidus filled the room. “Admiral?” Colonel Fisk stated. Admiral Cain slowly turned to him, as she placed her hand next to her throat. “What is it Colonel?”

“Sir I do not like this.” He replied, as his obese body began to sweat slightly. “Should we call in the fleet sir. They have the tactical superiority if they decide to prove hostile.” Colonel Fisk uttered.

Cain turned her head and stared at the blips on the screen. “No, They are not hostile.” Cain replied, as she looked at the large ship in front of them. “They are posturing. They are sending a message, that they are big and powerful. This Admiral of theirs is telling us that he is in charge.” She replied. “It is why he wants to meet with me on his ship. To get me on his home field.” Cain replied to her Executive officer.

She turned and smiled for a moment. “Ready a raptor, and prepare to go over to his ship. You are coming with me Colonel.” Cain uttered.

“Yes sir.” he replied, as she saluted.

Twenty minutes later, a Colonial Raptor took off, with a squadron of Mark IX Vipers, the newest fighters in the fleet. She flew straight and true, until she reached the hanger bay of the “Big Gun.”

As the ship approached, it slowly descended on the platform. The Hatch opened to any delegation that was there to meet with Cain. At first several marines exited, dressed in black, carrying rifles. Then Colonel Fisk Exited, and looked around. He soon stepped off to the side. Then Admiral Cain stepped out. She soon walked up to the presumably waiting Supreme Admiral Bruyn. As she walked up to him, She saluted him. “Admiral.” she responded. “On behalf of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, Welcome back to the Colonies.” she said, her voice reverberated with respect, and happiness.

(Ok ND, meet and greet is done, you can play Admiral Cain a bit to take her to where you want to talk with her and negotiate things. If you want to do a tour it is cool, just when it comes down to business stop there)

The consoles hummed, as the soft ping of the draidus filled the room. “Admiral?” Colonel Fisk stated. Admiral Cain slowly turned to him, as she placed her hand next to her throat. “What is it Colonel?”

“Sir I do not like this.” He replied, as his obese body began to sweat slightly. “Should we call in the fleet sir. They have the tactical superiority if they decide to prove hostile.” Colonel Fisk uttered.

Cain turned her head and stared at the blips on the screen. “No, They are not hostile.” Cain replied, as she looked at the large ship in front of them. “They are posturing. They are sending a message, that they are big and powerful. This Admiral of theirs is telling us that he is in charge.” She replied. “It is why he wants to meet with me on his ship. To get me on his home field.” Cain replied to her Executive officer.

She turned and smiled for a moment. “Ready a raptor, and prepare to go over to his ship. You are coming with me Colonel.” Cain uttered.

“Yes sir.” he replied, as she saluted.

Twenty minutes later, a Colonial Raptor took off, with a squadron of Mark IX Vipers, the newest fighters in the fleet. She flew straight and true, until she reached the hanger bay of the “Big Gun.”

As the ship approached, it slowly descended on the platform. The Hatch opened to any delegation that was there to meet with Cain. At first several marines exited, dressed in black, carrying rifles. Then Colonel Fisk Exited, and looked around. He soon stepped off to the side. Then Admiral Cain stepped out. She soon walked up to the presumably waiting Supreme Admiral Bruyn. As she walked up to him, She saluted him. “Admiral.” she responded. “On behalf of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, Welcome back to the Colonies.” she said, her voice reverberated with respect, and happiness.

(Ok ND, meet and greet is done, you can play Admiral Cain a bit to take her to where you want to talk with her and negotiate things. If you want to do a tour it is cool, just when it comes down to business stop there)

Supreme Admiral De Bruyn was waiting for Admiral Cain, dressed in his finest "dress blues," as the Dornalians called their uniforms. The nickname would strike the Colonials as odd. De Bruyn's uniform was black, with an impressive if tasteful array of medals befitting his rank, a peaked cap, and that odd mix of 20th Century Soviet and American styles that made an impression anywhere it went. He seemed happy enough to meet the party.

Next to the Supreme Admiral was his adjutant, Lyndie Uys, now dressed in her uniform befitting a Vice Admiral. Standing still, she was stone silent, with a holster holding her distinct, and very large .500 S&W revolver, along with a knee length skirt and an iron look that surveyed the lot with traditional Trekboer distrust of outsiders. Surrounding them as well was a unit of People's Navy Marines. They were in full Shield Steel armor, and immediately gave off the impression of being more well equipped than the Colonial Marine contingent with Cain.

De Bruyn replied Cain's salute with one of his own, and shook her hand with a smile and a quip of, "I thought this was my first time here." A chuckle from both of them, and then De Bruyn nodded and said, "Right, welcome aboard my vessel, the Big Gun. Let's take the scenic route, then we can get to work, hey?"

Cain and the others nodded, and the two parties began walking around the ship at a leisurely pace as they made their way to De Bruyn's ready room. They would notice the halls were much different than the Colonial ones. They were better well lit and not A-shaped with computer monitors everywhere, the odd drone gun emplacement and a blastdoor mount (De Bruyn noted, "Oh, those are for Emergencies" when Cain asked.).

Part of the walk led them through the cafeteria where enlisted and NCOs ate. Here, it was Roast Turkey day, and soldiers lined up to get rations of mashed potatoes, roast slices of turkey actually treated right, a side of green beans, and a cup for the drink machine (which dispensed sodas, tang, and other concoctions) from some busied cooks. It was Navy Issue, but it would have looked better than what Colonial Fleet got. Cain asked about the food, De Bruyn pointed to the kitchen and said, "We have replicators and good cooks in back. Keeps the crew happy, cuts down cooking time, and saves on supply costs. We do get fresh food though, but on long term jobs we mostly use replicators to save on cost."

There were odd looks occasionally, especially from the Crew Quarters. Lyndie pointed to her revolver to some PN enlisted who glared at the Admiral and she glared back, and they got the point.

Things went on until they reached two doors.

One led to the bridge, the other, the ready room. De Bruyn opened the door and let the parties in.

The ready room itself was large, well lit, and generally professional looking. It had a Mauser rifle and a FAL rifle in one corner, but not the Museum Kung had seen on Cain's vessel. Indeed, De Bruyn had more books than guns. Lots of books with men in widebrimmed hats roping cattle, lots of military reference guides, and lots of books about the history of some place called "South Africa." On one wall was a picture of a man in a simple uniform, standing tall and dignified. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christiaan_De_Wet)

He motioned to the Colonials and pointed to a large wooden table of some antiquity, saying, "Please, please, sit down." De Bruyn said, with a sense of a gruff but goodly host helping out his guests, "Would you like something to drink?"

The ship was vast, yet beautiful. Even as the Admiral walked down the halls, she could not help but to be impressed with the craftsmanship of the “Big Gun” as the thirteenth tribe called their ship. Admiral Cain just walked on the tour, listening to the crew, looking at their technology. One thing that really impressed her though was the replicator. With such technology, battlestars could go even longer without resupply. They seemed to be a real step up from the food recyclers that were on most colonial war ships.

Soon they came to his quarters, where her and Colonel Fisk stopped. He offered her a seat. She shook her head, “Admiral.” Cain replied, “I prefer to stand, but thank you for your offer.” she said not as a commanding officer, but in a more polite tone of voice. “And yes I would love something to drink, perhaps a scotch?” she asked him.

As Fisk and the rest sat down, Admiral Cain placed her hands on the table. “Admiral Bruyn.” she replied. “I imagine that you now know of the ratification of the Articles of Colonization.” Admiral Cain stated. “Now we are in an interesting predicament, thanks to our civilian governments.” she replied, as the scotch was given to her. She took a sip. “What do we do now?” Cain asked.

Admiral Cain looked at the Admiral Bruyn in the eye. “I have spoked to your delegate already, and although she has some interesting ideas, I am more interested in what you think Admiral.” Cain responded.

OOC: I had a better post until Jolt ate it. Great.

IC:


Soon they came to his quarters, where her and Colonel Fisk stopped. He offered her a seat. She shook her head, “Admiral.” Cain replied, “I prefer to stand, but thank you for your offer.” she said not as a commanding officer, but in a more polite tone of voice. “And yes I would love something to drink, perhaps a scotch?” she asked him.

Admiral De Bruyn nodded and then motioned for the Vice Admiral to get some Scotch and, amongst the guttural yet graceful language the two spoke amongst one another, something called, "Mampoer."

The drink came back, and it turned out that the Mampoer was nothing more than a kind of brandy. De Bruyn then held the glass in his hand, and said, "Ah yes. Mampoer. Good stuff. Pardon our use of Afrikaans, but my assistant is more comfortable with that."

As Fisk and the rest sat down, Admiral Cain placed her hands on the table. “Admiral Bruyn.” she replied. “I imagine that you now know of the ratification of the Articles of Colonization.” Admiral Cain stated. “Now we are in an interesting predicament, thanks to our civilian governments.” she replied, as the scotch was given to her. She took a sip. “What do we do now?” Cain asked.


Christiaan thought for a moment and sipped his mampoer before saying, "Ah yes. That. Well, I was admittedly confused by that move by my boss, and a little irritated."

He then straightened himself up, and said, "But, there is a saying I learned in Sunday School. Render unto Caesar's What is Caesar's. That means that despite any personal views I have, I am committed to defending the ratification, the Workers State, our Twelve Sisters, their Articles of Colonization and the rights of the citzens of all parties to pursue their lives without interference and with equal opportunity for advancement."

As he spoke, he placed some emphasis on the latter part--a subtle hint of the endless criticism from the Thirteenth Colony that Cain was a dictator and slave to foreign masters. But he didn't say that out loud.

Admiral Cain looked at the Admiral Bruyn in the eye. “I have spoked to your delegate already, and although she has some interesting ideas, I am more interested in what you think Admiral.” Cain responded.

"Ah yes. The exchange proposed by Madame Kung. A good idea, and I like the overall outline--although she should be reminded that civilian involvement in our affairs can turn into undue meddling.

To fill in the gaps she did not, I would like to make recruitment voluntary. However, I do recognize that among my number, there would be those who would be reluctant to participate in such an endeavor. I am sure Madame Kung has told you about all the nasty jokes and accusations you get in our land, and I have heard plenty among my men that I cannot and will not repeat here. In turn, I am sure there are those among your ranks who would be reluctant. Perhaps if recruitment levels become too low or after a certain date--depends on the service--there would be a lottery instituted to recruit eligible officers and enlisted. In fact, to demonstrate it isn't so bad, I would be willing to be exchanged for an equivalent, high-ranking member of your Fleet to prove the trustworthiness of the operation."

He then coughed and sipped his mampoer, saying, "Also, my adjutant had an idea. Perhaps we could also make this a ship exchange, to facilitate communications and to make, perhaps, a public statement of trust? Send some of your ships to Earth and base them there, and we would do the same at Caprica."

Admiral Cain smiled slyly at Admiral Bruyn for a moment. “I see.” she responded, as she leaned forward and took a sip of her scotch. “I would have to agree with you completely on the first portion. Civilians often get in the way of the militaries need and ability.” she said to him in no uncertain terms. “However by that very right, the military should have no real sway over the civilian governments or it’s politicians unless an emergency arises. Perhaps you should talk to Delegate Kung.” Admiral Cain replied as she placed her hands on the table. She then turned and looked around the room. It was such a magnificent vessel.

Admiral Cain looked at the picture, as she contemplated the terms which her counterpart purposed. She turned to him. “We have an accord.” Admiral Cain replied. “Twenty vessels, from the Twelve Sisters as you call us, will be stationed at Earth, and twenty of your vessels will be stationed here at the colonies, along with a military exchange of personal.” Admiral Cain replied.

She then looked at Admiral Bruyn, “One last thing, you need to be sworn in, Vice Admiral of the United Colonial Fleet.” She told the Admiral. She looked at him, “Raise your right hand, and repeat after me.”

“I (Insert full name) do hereby pledge my loyalty and faith in the United Colonial Fleet, to defend the thirteen Colonies of Kobol against all enemies, foreign or domestic, and to defend the Articles of Colonization with every fiber of my being.” Admiral Cain said, as she held up her right hand along with him.

Once it was said, she held out her hand to him, the new Vice Fleet Admiral, an Equal to Admiral Hallen, thus second in command of the fleets of the thirteen colonies of Kobol. “Congradulations Admiral.” Cain said as she held out her hand to him to shake.

Admiral Cain smiled slyly at Admiral Bruyn for a moment. “I see.” she responded, as she leaned forward and took a sip of her scotch. “I would have to agree with you completely on the first portion. Civilians often get in the way of the militaries need and ability.” she said to him in no uncertain terms. “However by that very right, the military should have no real sway over the civilian governments or it’s politicians unless an emergency arises. Perhaps you should talk to Delegate Kung.” Admiral Cain replied as she placed her hands on the table. She then turned and looked around the room. It was such a magnificent vessel.

De Bruyn smiled at that last statement, and sipped his mampoer. He then wryly retorted, "Well, like I said, I render unto Caesar what is Caesar's. I do become irritated at what Caesar does, occasionally. But I don't pretend to be Caesar unless things get absolutely ridiculous; you've a point there." He would have said more, but he decided that phrase said what he wanted to say.

Admiral Cain looked at the picture, as she contemplated the terms which her counterpart purposed. She turned to him. “We have an accord.” Admiral Cain replied. “Twenty vessels, from the Twelve Sisters as you call us, will be stationed at Earth, and twenty of your vessels will be stationed here at the colonies, along with a military exchange of personal.” Admiral Cain replied.

He said, amazed that the Admiral actually agreed to the deal, "It's a deal."

She then looked at Admiral Bruyn, “One last thing, you need to be sworn in, Vice Admiral of the United Colonial Fleet.” She told the Admiral. She looked at him, “Raise your right hand, and repeat after me.”

“I (Insert full name) do hereby pledge my loyalty and faith in the United Colonial Fleet, to defend the thirteen Colonies of Kobol against all enemies, foreign or domestic, and to defend the Articles of Colonization with every fiber of my being.” Admiral Cain said, as she held up her right hand along with him.

Once it was said, she held out her hand to him, the new Vice Fleet Admiral, an Equal to Admiral Hallen, thus second in command of the fleets of the thirteen colonies of Kobol. “Congradulations Admiral.” Cain said as she held out her hand to him to shake.

He did as told, raising his right hand and speaking with the dignity to be accorded to the occasion.

"I, Christiaan Theron De Bruyn do hereby pledge my loyalty and faith in the United Colonial Fleet, to defend the thirteen Colonies of Kobol against all enemies, foreign or domestic, and to defend the Articles of Colonization with every fiber of my being."

He then shook her hand firmly, and saluted. With a smile, he said, "Thank you, Admiral." He then quipped, referring to the newly United Colonies: "I quote an old film, but I think it would be apt at this point in reference to the fact we are Thirteen now, not Twelve and One seperate. Admiral, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0034583/quotes)."

He then said, afterwards, "I notice you were looking at the painting on the wall." With pride, he walked to it, and pointed it out. "This is one of my people's heroes. General Christiaan de Wet. My namesake. Before our Apocalypse, long ago, he fought for the freedom of the Afrikaner people against foreign invaders from a land called Britain and their empire. The invaders wanted gold and land, Christiaan and others said, 'no.' So, they fought for three years, resorting to guerilla war when the British proved too strong on the conventional battlefield. Though they were eventually defeated, they went down fighting as men, not like the British who used concentration camps and starvation to win." He smiled as he spoke the last part. Lyndie did too, evidence her people, made into something different by atomic war, were once the same as Christiaan's.