NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Closed/Semi-Open.

With the Exception of Abh, the Occasional Presence of Orthodox Gnosticism (Who's given me the keys to the United Colonies until he takes care of some RL stuff), Both of The Kythons, Evil Woody Thoughts, and possibly the Huntarians (Allied and Imperial) and the Coredians, TG or IM me for entrance. Some parties I kinda know they're going to be in this already; confirm with me anyway as I've plans for this.

The reason why I imposed the Closed/Semi-Open bit is that I kinda want to keep this somewhat focused here and prevent this from getting really awkward and lost in OOC gobbeldegook--something which my schedule doesn't need right now.

I'm also assuming any and all spies or non-Colonial/Dornie persons are off the Isis when this occurs, as this is after Melida/Daan. Anybody knows different, especially CW, TG me quickly.

IC:

"Before us the thick dark current runs. It talks up to us in a murmur become ceaseless and myriad, the yellow surface dimpled monstrously into fading swirls travelling along the surface for an instant, silent, impermanent and profoundly significant, as though just beneath the surface something huge and alive waked for a moment of lazy alertness out of and into light slumber again."

--William Faulkner, "As I Lay Dying"

Exercise Blue--Somewhere outside of Picon, United Colonies of Kobol

Admiral Helena Cain had been planning these exercises for a while now with her Dornalian coutnerpart, Christiaan Balthazar--or was it Theron?--De Bruyn (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v630/Senor_Nb3/36171_1_200px.jpg). No matter. Middle names didn't matter, only the fact that here and now soldiers had to fight, even if it was a sham, simulated battle for dominance of a fictional objective.

As she stood in the CIC of the Isis, one of the United Colonies' finest vessels, things seemed calm enough. Calmer than they had been in these past few. Though she had Dornalians onboard her bridge working the helm and working her vessel, it was in a spirit of cooperation. In terms of trouble, they hadn't brought much more than a new form of moonshine--something they called "swipe wine" consisting of bootleg rum--and an odd sense of being and thinking that occasionally clashed with their COlonial counterparts. Well, it didn't matter to her.

The DRADIS screen was empty. So far, Red Team, to be chaired by De Bruyn, his force, and elements of Battlegroup Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap and Battlegroup Heatseeker--such odd names for such deadly weapons (again, no matter)--was not in sight. However, she knew that they would come soon. Those black sheep of the family, with a love of cats and toasters and rock music, had possessed high technology that could easily compete with the Colonies' latest and greatest--and they understood theirs, as a bonus. This made them fierce opponents. Naturally, the Colonials were no softies, despite what the Dornalian staff might occasionally think. One toughened under the strains of war and stabs, front and back.

Just then, the DRADIS lit up. Six MASSIVE signatures.

She smiled. The Admiral had come to play.


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

"All units, enter into Crane Formation. Power up Sim Weapons. Fighter Screen activate. Await further orders."

De Bruyn then swiped his finger over the command screen, bringing up the sensor readouts. Tapping it, he zoomed in on the formations aahead. Marked in red were several groupings of Colonial vessels. He leaned in and asked through his mic, "Tactical. What's our status?"

"All units in formation, Comrade Admiral. Commodore Patel reports his force is in position, as does Commodore Anderson. They're ready to go."

De Bruyn nodded. Looking at his screens and at the massive viewscreen in the front of the bridge, he had a feeling this day was something special. Admiral Cain had agreed to undergo readiness exercises to test out the fleet, and given their good relationship so far it was no surprise that she agreed.

As he keyed in commands and issued orders with the utmost professionalism, he began to think. Admiral Cain was a conflicted individual, frankly, and that rubbed on him. On one hand, he admired her professionalism and strength. A strong, Hawksian woman if there was one, she was a feminist's dream. She was surprisingly generous to friends. She herself had put a good degree of trust in the South African farmboy, and he had so far lived up to it. She shared his contempt for politicians who enjoyed meddling in the affairs of military men, and they had similar austerities.

On the other hand, the farmboy, raised on Greek mythos, the Word of God and an egalitarian sense of humility, had also grown to accept the fact she was also somewhat focused on control and had a sense of summary justice that bordered on the tyrannical. Not a bad thing, but when faced with her record of using summary execution upon allies and subordinates, he wondered if wasn't an unhealthy fascination sometimes. He never had to shoot that many people, and kept them in line well enough still. She also had a tendency to neglect her civilian partners--to her, they were fresh meat for the grist mill. Ugly really. He hated politicians, but he respected civilians.

Shaking his head, he nonetheless understood that wasn't important. The battle was. Thus, he realized, like any old airman would, it was time to take the initiative and strike. He then ordered, "Right. All units. Take the offensive. Dirty Deeds, Heatseeker, Big Gun, charge Sim D3Gs and advance. All units, begin firing on targets. Anderson, flank from Left and Above. Patel, flank from Right and Below. I will advance from middle. Cross T's, Dot I's."

With that, he recieved simple acknowledgements of "Aye" from both commanders. The fight was on. Before long, the Colonial elements and the Dornalian elements were locked in combat. The Tauronese Cain was putting up a stiff fight, battling superior numbers with a resolute defense and a few technological tricks of her own. Marinesko II fighters clashed with Vipers, dancing and dueling in a circle of death. And orders were flying back and forth. It was as if controlled chaos had come.

Then, things would become uncontrolled rather quickly.

Cain ordered her new helmsman, one very stupid man whose name is lost to history, "Helm, go to these coordinates" in an attempt to outflank her opponent using a Jump. The helmsman replaced the Colonial one, who was feeling under the weather, and this new one was not too adept at using Colonial equipment. Perhaps if he had not eaten that bad sandwich, or had gotten more sleep....things would not have turned out as they did.

As it occurred, the Dornalian, barely trained, entered the coordinates improperly. What happened instead of a simple Jump to the left was a Jump WAY outside the system. Into very hostile space.....

D'Hara sat in the darkness of space as seemingly lifeline to the rest of the Empire. It could not boast the heavy traffic as say Lakfakallae, Safugnoff, or others of the older territories; but, it did have a reputation among the other worlds of the Empire. During times of war, the system had its own naval fleet where it constructed the beginnings of what was now the modern Homeguard Fleet. Not least of the stories floating through the Empire were about the people that inhabited the planet who were gifted with strange powers that went beyond the Jedi or the Sith, furthest amongst them was Richard Rahl. The ruler of D'Hara and one of the seven admirals of the Empire.

Parked around the planet, guarding its many secrets, were hundreds of ships from Star Forces. On rotation in guarding the system was Admiral Spoor whose fleet was resupplying and preparing to move on for their next sector of patrols. Many of the men and women enjoyed their time planetside or aboard the exotic orbital stations that were full of entertainment. All looked as normal as ever in the system.

There was only one scheduled exceptional visit for the day. His majesty, Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton was supposed to arrive to check on the disposition of the fleets.

A long blue braid fell down the back of Admiral Spoor as she walked the command deck of the Latchkau. Her favored crimson flagship sat in the midst of the Imperial 2nd fleet on the dark side of the planet. She leaned easily over the railing to study the tactical layout of the ships in system.

"I am so bored."

Kufadiss sat at his station as chief of staff and closed his eyes, hoping that Benej Spoor would not feel the need to play any of her usual mind games with him today.

"How much longer until his majesty is scheduled to arrive?"

The Abh ran through the itinerary on his glass screen until he found where the his highness was scheduled to appear. "His Excellency is scheduled to arrive in five minutes time through the D'Haran sord."

"Ah that's right. I almost forgot about all the FTLi up around this place. We move around so easily that I forgot that some types of travel cannot cross our realm."

Kufadiss flipped through more menus on the screen as he continued to talk. "That is true but not all nations are so easily thwarted by that defense."

Spoor turned around and flopped down in the cushioned couch that had been designated as her command "chair". "True, but there is no war on so there is no one to fight. It is almost pointless being a military commander at this time. Have nations finally become so complacent in life that they no longer want more?"

"Perhaps, but I would like at this as a positive. That means the Empire can prosper economically and our vassals live safe lives."

Spoor whirled around to face her chief. "Well my Chief, I see nothing so far that supports the claim or mitigates my complaint. Wake me when something exciting actually happens."

Kufadiss smiled. "Very well, Admiral. I'll-"

Admiral Spoor caught the pause in her chief. "What is it now?"

The chief worked quickly at the screen then brought up a holographic representation of D'Hara below accompanied by a single blinking red light. "Distortion in space at this point. We have an unidentified ship entering our sector. Nothing on the schedule, except his Highness, to confirm this arrival."

Spoor raised an eyebrow very slightly, almost half interested. "Oh? What is the make of the ship?"

"Bringing it up now...Outline and markings read that of Colonial!"

Now Spoor did take interest as she quickly rose from her couch and threw the silk sheet off her. "Alert all battle groups that we have intruders in our sector. All crews should return to their ships. If they are here to collect intelligence on our ships then we cannot allow them to leave. How long until the D'Haran defense grid powers up?"

Sirens sounded throughout Spoor's flagship as her crew was being called to battlestations. "MAC satellites online and fifteen minutes for the energy towers. Ship is in range of our cloaked mine field, shall we deploy?"

The Admiral rested her elbows on the rail and thought for a moment. "How many ships are prepared to attack along with us?"

Kufadiss was somewhat surprised by the remark but quickly brought up the names. "There are ten Roil-class attack vessels, five Roth-class patrol ships, and four Kau-class ships along with us. Also, there are the two Paryunu destroyers in the system that have noticed the intrusion and are moving to intercept."

"Hmmm. A grand total of twenty-two ship against one. That's fairly good odds for now. Keep the minefield hidden for now and send a message to HQ about a possible Colonial incursion into Imperial space. I want the other ships following our lead. We'll dance with this little Colonial and see how they twirl. Have the MAC guns begin firing until we get there."

"Aye ma'am."

As D'Hara came to life with military ships running to formations and their crews scurrying about to get to their stations, the first of the orbital defenses began opening fire on the Isis. Perhaps to some it would be odd that the Abh did not ask for identification first before firing, but when it came to Abh space you were either invited or invading. Nothing said that ships couldn't broadcast surrenders though. At least there was the possibility that the attacks might stop. Though with the Wrath of Emperor Dougna in affect, an Abh stopping an attack on a Colonial vessel was unlikely.

“We write our own destiny; we become what we do.”

--Soong May-Ling, aka Madame Chaing Kai-Shek

True to Madame Chaing's words, Admiral Cain's misstep was about to write a new, unwelcome chapter into her destiny. It was as if God, by some cruel stroke, had decided to use the Abh--led by athiests, of all sentient races--to teach the would-be Generalissimo that old lesson from Ancient Greece: never overextend yourself. That's called hubris.

That lesson was applied in a direct fashion as the woman's ship, the Isis, was slammed with fire from all sides. Standing up barely by holding onto the console, she asked, "Status!" of the hapless navigator.

"I dunno! I just hit the switch....I pushed the buttons like you said....and....this happened!" The man spoke frantically, as Cain glared at him. Klaxons blared. Sounds emerged. It was obvious to her this was a real war, and whoever was shooting at her was doing it for real. Calmly and curtly, she said, "DRADIS report."

"Ships incoming. They're all Abh!" said one of the staff.

Cain gritted her teeth. Abh. Of all the people.....she shook her head. Now was not the time. The doomed Generalissimo spoke into her gertrude, saying, "All hands. Battle stations. This is not a drill." Hanging it up, she then said curtly to Fisk, "Colonel Fisk, order all Vipers out on patrol. I need to take care of things up here."

Fisk then said, "Ma'am, I am afraid that's impossible. Our Vipers were only equipped with Sim Weapons."

Cain then said, leveling her pistol at the portly XO with a seething anger, "Then get real weapons on them, Colonel. Don't forget how you got your job." Fisk nodded and said, "Yes ma'am."

Fisk had never seen Cain like this before....it was a sort of fire in her eyes as she calmly but angrily ordered him to move the Vipers out. A sort of desperation that said, "Oh. Hell. No."

Turning back to the command post, Cain then said on her gertrude again, "Get Lieutenant Nichols up here along with a security detail." Calling to the incompetent pilot, she said, "Lieutenant Stimson, you are relieved of duty pending charges of incompetence. If you're lucky, you may live to face a court marshal. Good job."

Then, Stimson said something that angered her.

"Can't we tell them we surrender?"

Cain promptly pulled out her pistol and shot Stimson in the head.

What happened next was truly extraordinary, for it seemed uncharacteristically violent of Cain, even given her capacity for vengance. Calling out--no, screaming with the force of a trauma ward paitent over the klaxons and calls of "JUMP DRIVES WON'T SPIN UP!," she said:

"ANY OTHER ASSFRAKERS!? NOW IS THE TIME!!"

The dead silence indicated no one was willing to repeat Nichols's mistake, so she continued with, "Right. Raise defenses, prepare flak, arm guns move course to starboard. I intend to die with dignity."

The bridge crew went to work, and with Nichols on the navigators' chair, she was ready to execute her orders. The shields went up, and flak emerged to counter any physical rounds the Abh could throw at them. Viper screens, meanwhile, emerged to flank the ship and confront any Starfuries that would emerge. Meanwhile, the Isis itself began moving about.

Cain then sighed, her gaze growing dark. The sigh was audible to the bridge crew and with mere exchanges of worried looks it was obvious that something had come over the usually stoic if admittedly hardassed to the point of homicide Admiral of the Fleet. A kind of desperation. A sort of fatalism, as the Dornies on the bridge would say and seemed to be saying with their eyes. Why else would she call out all the Vipers!? Why else would she shoot a man over a remark so quickly?

"Uh uh. No. The Furies may come to get me, but I'm gonna make them sing for their supper," Cain thought. "The cycle may be finishing, but I'll make it end on my terms."

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

De Bruyn, meanwhile, began noticing the exercise grind to a halt. He then hailed one of the Colonial Battlestars, "This is Big Gun to Olympia Actual. What is the matter?"

The commander of the Olympia, one Captain Lewis, replied, "Big Gun, something's happened to Isis Actual. She's gone missing. Repeat, gone missing!"

De Bruyn then hailed Cain's ship, saying and asking calmly, "Isis Actual, this is Big Gun! Isis Actual, this is Big Gun! Come in, over!"

Silence.

He slumped down in his seat; the exercise had stopped already and it was obvious it would have to stop. Something had happened to the Admiral, and it would require a search.

"All units. Commence a search of the nearby area within several light hours break into mobile search units. Ping for Isis Actual. Do not stop. Search all likely locations, over. She could not have gone far."

With that, the formations began scouring around for their missing Admiral....De Bruyn, deep in his gut, however, had a feeling something bad had happened to Cain. Something quite bad. Lyndie could sense it, and she asked in Afrikaans, "What's wrong?"

"I have a bad feeling about this," spoke the Admiral in simple, stoic terms.

The situation aboard the Latchkau was entirely different. Instead of mass panic and flaring emotions, the scene was completely calm as Admiral Spoor hummed to herself as their ships began to advance. It never failed to amaze Kufadiss that the Admiral could remain so calm in the midst of a battle while his own heart raced madly.

"Ma'am, the enemy has deployed a number of small ships; most likely Vipers. Shall we launch our mines to clear them away?"

Spoor tilted her head to the side, which was barely visible through the sheer curtains surrounding her couch. "Tell me Chief, is it that you're stupid or simply joking?"

Kufadiss's eyes went wide. He had played this game last time with the Admiral and had lost miserably. "I was just joking."

"Why on earth would you do that? Could it be that you were attempting to test the knowledge of your commanding officer?"

The Chief of Staff stood and bowed his head. "My apologies Admiral. I was merely trying to learn from your experiences."

Spoor drifted a crimson eye his way. "Listen, the mines on our ships are few so we need to save them for the actual vessel. Those Vipers can shoot our missles down with relative ease. We'll have the attack vessels broke off an engage the enemy fighters. That should keep them busy. Concentrate all of our fire on their fighters. We'll peel away their shielding first, then focus on the ship itself."

"Yes, ma'am."

The Admiral drew her command saber and pointed it straight out. "Send word to all ships in our squadron, concentrate all fire on the Vipers. Inform the Paryunus that they should approach from the Colonial's stern. Keep them boxed in. All other ships should be ready to take up attack vectors once they arrive on our formation."

"Aye ma'am. Relaying the orders to the fleet now."

Communication ships dropped from the flagship and sped through the system to communicate with the other vessels. At about that time, the ten Roil-class attack vessels broke off from Spoor's formation and dove towards the Vipers. Their anti-proton cannons lead the way as the great gouts of yellow plasma flew through space.

Aboard the Cigroil, commander Abriel Ceilia lead the charge. (Using a bit of fluid time here).

"All vessels, maintain your distance from the main Colonial ship. All intelligence reports that the vessel is heavily armed and can be more than a match for any squadron of us. Focus on the fighters first."

Acknowledgment lights winked back at the Abriel as she pushed her ship forward.

While twenty-two ships were against a squadron of fighters and a Colonial flagship, the odds would steadily get worse for the Colonials as more and more Abh ships would join the fight along with the constant bombardment from the MAC cannons in orbit over D'Hara. For now though, the main focus was eliminating the fighters which would provide the Isis some time to breathe.

Whether this was intentional on Admiral Spoor's part, or a simple oversight yet to remain seen.

"Admiral. His majesty, the Imperial Admiral is due to arrive in the system within the minute."

Spoor waved her hand as if it hardly mattered. "Send him a report of the situation and inform him of our plans on dealing with the invader."

"Right away."

Spoor sunk back into her overly cushioned couch. "I'm not sure I really feel up to this."

OOC: Quote at end said by Cain comes from David Grene's translation of The Libation Bearers, part of the Oresteia cycle of Greek Tragedies by Aeschylus. The quote from The Wind and the Lion comes from IMDB.

"Eden Pedecaris: [playing chess with Raisuli] You are in a lot of trouble! You should never have moved that knight or kidnapped me - both will see you undone."
--John Milius, The Wind and the Lion

"Sir, we've got multiple contacts on DRADIS. Twenty-two Abh vessels approaching. We got some coming in from the stern; Viper squadrons report incoming fire."

At that report from the newly minted helmsman, Lt. Nichols, Cain mused.

"So it's come to that then."

She stroked her chin, and smiled as she caught herself making the gesture. It was very Dornalian; she had perhaps picked it up from the "Supreme" Admiral--her second--De Bruyn when he tugged at that beard for clarity. Or some other officer. It mattered not now. What mattered was that she came to the logical conclusion that all the massed resources of the Frybarec were coming in, the proverbial Furies of legend, to make her an unperson. Inevitably, she'd have to do something to make these people bleed. But what?

Her smile then grew wider--it became the smile of a madwoman, a Chelsea Smile without the prerequisite assault with a blade. She then leaned on the console and spoke to her weapons officer.

"How many Tactical Nukes do we have?"

"Full complement, sir."

She then spoke clearly and loudly to her crew.

"Alright, you lot. Helm, increase speed and turn to broadsides, set course for the orbit of D'hara. Weapons, instruct the bridge to open fire with our railguns upon the interlopers, and instruct personnel to arm all available heavy munitions and superweapons. Colonel Fisk, please convey instructions to the management of the Vipers to hold the line and harass the enemy craft as best as possible--they deviate one centimeter I will turn the flak on them."

The bridge crew was now positive she had lost i, for such orders meant certain danger. The Dornies wished there was a commissar to kill her before she did her dirty deed, to activate the dreaded Article 21 of the Revolutionary Armed Forces Code of Justice and take command in the Name of the Workers and Peasants with a gunshot. But an order was an order, and the People's Navy this was not. So, they merely replied, "Aye," for fear of suffering the fate of Stimson. Indeed, she was still wagging that Picon pistol openly, so it was clearly her court now.

Thusly, the Isis, after moving in an oblique to the Abh lines, suddenly turned ninety degrees and began opening fire with several broadsides of railcannon fire along with the sudden swarm of Vipers making desperate attack runs. Then, it steamed forth, facing the enemy and picking up speed with all abandon and throwing fire to the front. If Spoor was smart--or nuttier than usual--then she'd figure out Cain's plan right away.

And that was the point. For Cain sent out only one message to the Abh as she did her thing. It was a quote from somewhere, possible a Colonial--or as the Dornies would call it, Greek--play.

"I've nukes. I will use them on your precious world. 'Almighty Destinies, by the will of Zeus let these things be done, in the turning of Justice.'"

Admiral Spoor hummed sweetly while reclining upon her couch as she tapped her command saber in the palm of her hand. Kufadiss looked over and saw that she wasn't even watching the development of the battle. Despite every time the ship used its EM rifles it rocked, Spoor rested in serenity.

The chief of staff noticed two things on his console that stole his attention from the red-eyed admiral. One was that the Imperial Admiral had finally arrived in the system. The other was that the Colonial ship seemed to be speeding towards D'Hara itself.

"Excuse me, ma'am."

Spoor arched an eyebrow but didn't bother to open her eyes. "What is it?"

"We have contact with the Home Guard's flagship and his majesty, the Imperial Admiral has arrived with his escorts."

The Admiral twirled her saber around as if it was meaningless. "Very well. Send his highness an update of the battle and inform him of our intentions."

Kufadiss relayed the orders and had a message sent to the Imperial Admiral's ship. "Ma'am, that's not all."

Growing tired of being bothered, Spoor sighed and turned his way. "What is it Chief?"

"The Colonial ship is moving towards D'Hara. It's possible they could be attempting to use it as a shield or worse."

"Please, dear Chief, do not be so mellow dramatic on my bridge. We will continue the attack."

The Roil-class attack ships hounded the vipers even as the Isis moved. The energy attacks continued to streak across the dark night of space. Despite being larger, they were still quite agile which was bound to surprise more than one pilot.

A steady beeping noise came from the station of the communications officer on Spoor's crimson flagship. "Admiral, message coming through."

"Read it to me."

"I've nukes. I will use them on your precious world. 'Almighty Destinies, by the will of Zeus let these things be done, in the turning of Justice.'"

Spoor opened an eye at the statement. "Well I must say. This commander must have a thing for the theatrics. I haven't heard such emotionally charged speeches since the days of the United Mankind wars. There is nothing more boring than someone trying to assert their own importance."

Kufadiss studied his admiral closing. He never knew how to really judge her. "How should we reply ma'am?"

"Communications."

"Yes, Admiral?"

Spoor rested back into her cushions. "Feed the communication link through my console."

"You are online now, ma'am."

This is the Grand Dutchess Latopanyu of the Spoor house. While your targeting of a planet is intriguing and perhaps could prove useful, it is clear that you have never had contact with an Abh before. Allow me to educate you. We are Abh are the kin of the stars and therefore, live in space. Firing your weapons upon a planet would prove devastating to those that live upon worlds but not for those of us that live among the stars.

Foolish ground walker, firing any nuclear device upon the inhabitants of planet D'Hara will only hasten your destruction and further the decimation of your own race. Do as you wish, but you are not leaving this system. It only comes down to how much do you want your own people to suffer for your actions now.

Spoor clicked off the communication which promptly warranted a response from her chief who was barely in control of himself. "You cannot issue such a statement to a hostile enemy! We have to think of the inhabitants of D'Hara. Do not forget that the ruler of D'Hara is an esteemed admiral of Star Forces and in the running for the Jade Throne some day."

The Admiral pursed her lips as if pouting. "Chief, you worry too much. Inform the Paryunu destroyers to take aim and be ready to fire on mark with graviton cannons only. Communications, relay a narrow beam transmission to Lord Rahl below and have him prepared for nuclear bombardment. Hopefully all the fancy tricks he possesses can help him."

Spoor's orders were carried out to the letter as Paryunus took aim on the Isis with their numerable graviton cannons and waited for the order to fire. It wasn't in Admiral Spoor's nature to wait long. The signal came quickly through the wire instructing them to target important structures that might deal with weapons or engines. There was energy to detect as the kinetic rounds tore through space to strike out against the large ship.

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

Aboard the Driaron, Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton stood upon the bridge with two people that he knew quite well. Admiral Wakapale sat in command of her prized ship as Admiral of the Home Fleet which was charged with the defense of the Empire's realms. The ship was a monster in comparison to its four escorts. While still dwarfed by the Paryunus, the ship was still impressive with its many armaments and full compliment of Imperial Marines that were ready for combat. Wherever Gaf'ton went, Captain Estas of the Imperial Marines and his new soldiers followed.

On the other side of him was a woman that he helped create. Jessyka, or known to some as Darth Twilight stood in the all covering black cloth that she now fancied. She might have fit the bill of a Force User except for the fact that she carried no lightsaber or any weapon. Gaf'ton had put her through rigorous hand-to-hand combat training which, coupled with her abilities in the Force, made her a powerful weapon.

It wasn't long before the exited the D'Haran sord when a message came through from Admiral Spoor. Gaf'ton studied the image of the Colonial ship as it came on screen hovering over D'Hara.

"I know that ship." His sole eye narrowed. "Intelligence pegged it as a new line of ships from the Colonials. If I am not mistaken, that would be the ship that Admiral Cain commands."

Twilight stood at the balcony of the bridge as Admiral Wakapale moved about the ship dealing with the thousands of tasks associated with defending an Empire as well as preparing for a battle. Jessyka on the other hand stood calm with her arms crossed. "All is as foreseen. The tormentor has come back to us. In one fell swoop we may cut off the head of the Colonial military and fulfill the Wrath of Emperor Doougna."

Gaf'ton nodded his agreement. "Indeed. If the Colonies push for war after this, then they shall be easy to handle without their military strategist."

The Abriel turned towards Wakapale's communication officer. "Inform Admiral Spoor that that ship is not to be destroyed. She is to disable it no matter the cost. Then tell Captain Estas to prepare his Marines. He has a prize to capture."

"Yes your majesty."

"Don't be humble. You aren't that great."

--Golda Meir

The incoming waves of fire rocked the Isis, and the DITA system held. However, it was rocking back and forth extensively, and though the shields held the graviton fire made moving about the inside difficult. Not that it mattered to Cain. The Furies wanted her, they'd have to take her kicking and screaming. And frankly, she wasn't one to be allowed to be distracted.

"Sir! Engineering reports shields are holding--however, matenance crews are busy. Casualties are coming in to the sickbay. Viper squadrons report they are being peppered with fire."

Cain nodded and then listened to the message incoming from Spoor.

This is the Grand Dutchess Latopanyu of the Spoor house. While your targeting of a planet is intriguing and perhaps could prove useful, it is clear that you have never had contact with an Abh before. Allow me to educate you. We are Abh are the kin of the stars and therefore, live in space. Firing your weapons upon a planet would prove devastating to those that live upon worlds but not for those of us that live among the stars.

Foolish ground walker, firing any nuclear device upon the inhabitants of planet D'Hara will only hasten your destruction and further the decimation of your own race. Do as you wish, but you are not leaving this system. It only comes down to how much do you want your own people to suffer for your actions now.

Cain, unlike Spoor, didn't think the enemy commander's comment was worth considering. Not with words anyway. With guns, however....

Thoughts on what to do now parsed through Cain's mind. Then, Cain smiled--she had picked up the habit from the Dornalians under her. It made her wince a little, that those Abh-lovers had made their mark on her. And it was one of many grins she issued so far that made Fisk and the crew under her nervous. She then asked Fisk, "Where's that skank?"

"Skank, ma'am?"

"Admiral Spore, Pour--whatever the frak her name is."

"Ah."

Fisk looked on the DRADIS and replied, "She's at these coordinates, sir," pointing with his finger. She glanced for a moment, and then said, "Helm, proceed to designated coordinates."

Nichols then replied, wincing: "Sir?"

Cain then replied simply, "That skank's right. We hit those people on D'Hara, we do nothing about her. But we focus on her, we take down those fraking sybarites down with us. She should have kept her mouth shut."

With a dramatic point of her finger, she ordered, "Turn towards our adversaries. Open fire on the enemy destroyers, and move behind the planet after we do so. We hold their planet hostage; let them come to us."

The crew then replied, "Aye, sir." The Dornalians and several Colonial officers who thought Cain had gone mad notably said it more reluctantly than the others, and for that, Cain put her eye on them.

"Sir," Nichols said. "We got new contacts on DRADIS. Massive contacts."

"They brought reinforcements. Good." Cain ordered then, cruelly commenting on D'Hara's pastoral nature, "Save the singularities and atomics for them. They might make for juicier targets than veganworld."

The Isis then opened fire with a shower of missiles and a shower of railcannon rounds, before making haste to go behind D'Hara, manuevering quickly over the top of it and seeking to use the planet itself as a barrier. Cain's logic was simply--if they thought so little of it, what stopped them from blowing through it to get to her? Not her most rational thought, but then again she was backed into a corner and quite panicky inside.

"In coming fire, brace for impact."

Kufadiss's warnings rang throughout the bridge which were met by Admiral Spoor's quick thinking. "All defense cannons, fire at incoming missiles. Turn the ship into the oncoming fire. We'll make as small a target as possible for the their computers."

The Latchkau moved into the oncoming rail cannon fire as blue laser fire streaked out across space to collide with the missiles. Particles collided with the armor wrapping around the crimson flagship. Abhs aboard the ship braced themselves against the violent lurching of the ship but she still held firm.

"Chief, damage report!"

Kufadiss worked furiously at his station to bring up a tally on the damaged sectors. "Most of the missiles were destroyed by our defense system. All radiation and pieces of shrapnel were absorbed by the shields. We do have holes in the armor plating in sections 1,3,5, and 9 along the bow. Emergency crews are working as fast as they can to seal the pressure leaks."

"Very good. Where is our target?"

The chief of staff pulled up the holographic battle map and enlarged the image that showed the current location of the Isis. "Holding steady on the dark side of D'Hara."

Spoor's lips pulled back in a small smile. "Very well. All ships-"

"Begging your pardon ma'am, but there is a message coming through from his Highness."

Spoor sighed and sat back in her couch. "Alright. What is it?"

"His highness, Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton, is asking that we not destroy the target."

The Admiral stood from her reclined position and began thumping her command saber in the palm of her hand. "It seems nothing ever changes. No matter which Abriel is in command of Star Forces, they always seem to want to make us Spoor's fight in a manner that is most suited to them. Such a barbaric way of fighting.

Very well. Decloak the minefield and the far side of D'Hara. Have a portion of the mines attack the Isis."

Kufadiss looked a little unsure of her command. "But ma'am, our orders were to disable the ship; not destroy it."

Spoor looked to her chief as if his concern was completely ridiculous. "Relax chief. I'm going to wound it, not kill it. We'll bring the energy turrets online and have the ion cannons drain the life out of it."

On the far side of D'Hara, a minefield emerged around the Isis. Anti-matter mobile mines locked onto the enemy signature and began streaking towards the target. Orbiting around the planet, energy satellites had had enough time to power up. Ion fire cast a pale blue light in the darkness as the globs of energy siphons reached out for the Isis.

"Inform his Highness that the attack is underway and have the Paryunus circle around the planet and bring down that Colonial disgrace."

"Fuck off! Fuck off my fucking stage!"

--Pete Townshend, speaking to Abbie Hoffman before ejecting him forcefully from Woodstock, 1969

"Ma'am. DRADIS reports multiple contacts! Hundreds! Incoming fire!"

Nichols' report came in just in time for the Isis to be smacked everywhich way by a flurry of Abh mines. The Isis began spitting flak and singularity shots, but the sheer amount of mines ensured a good deal would get through. The ship rocked, the ship rolled, and the lights went out temporariliy before coming back online. While the DITA System held and the hull held, it was damaged and reports soon arrived of repairs needing to be done, with the mines and fire still coming.

"I see," Cain replied. "Fix the damage. Take us out of D'Haran orbit. Wait for them to come."

"Sir, they are coming. Multiple contacts on all sides."

Curtly, she replied, "I am aware of that. Let's give them a wel--"

Then, the power cut out, and the lights flickered on again.

"What the frak.....?" Cain looked about in amazement, and turned to Fisk. "Colonel, what is going on?! I need to work here!"

Fisk promptly dialed the gertrude, and called engineering. He replied, "Ma'am, Engineering reports a loss of power transmission efficency. It seems we're being hit by ion-based weapons."

Cain sighed, and then merely replied, "All the more reason to escape, then. Instruct Engineering to get moving, fix the fraking power, and get us out. We don't escape, we die!"

It was with that the Admiral opted, "Restore power to minimu-" before a wave of ion energy hit them and shut off the power, before turning it on again. Cain was tired of this, and instructed: "Reroute power to DITA and hull integrity, and get flak, cannon and torpedo fire at the enemy, the flak at the mines, the rest at any incoming vessels." She then added in a Freudian slip, barely spinning a proud statement of mad defiance into something somewhat inspiring, "I won't let them take m-sorry, us alive!"

It was with that fire erupted at the enemy. Were it not for the mines, it would be a flood of such ordinance, but as it is, its pretty good volume would have to do.

Cain thought simply to herself, "Those damn Furies...if they're only myth, why can I hear them calling? They nearly made me fail in front of my men...and now those damn cowards are looking at me funny, I swear. Well, frak them if they don't like it because I flubbed my words, I won't be taken alive!"

All that time, Fisk noted a strangely contemplative, defiant expression on his bosses's face. Cain turned and asked, "What?"

--------

In Engineering, meanwhile, one Howard Townshend sighed as he took a wrench and some electrical equipment to fix the conduits. Along with two other comrades and others throughout the ship, he was a Dornalian that was part of the exchange program that left several hundred Dornalian officers onboard to learn Colonial customs and ways of doing/being/handling ships.

In his past life, he was a People's Navy captain, tasked with a whole ship. Now, he was some Colonial's swabbie, a man who ruled the Dornalian contingent but often had to do jobs he wasn't assigned due to the personnel shortages that characterized the Colonies, and because the Engineering officr was a dick. The only reason he complied was because now, it was an emergency.

"Jesus. I just hope this shooting ends. Is that drive still shot?"

The two others, a genegata catgirl, who resembled a Mexican woman with cat ears and a tail, and a regular man with them, nodded. The catgirl replied, "Shyah? These shits can't fix a damn drive, even their own. I had to go in there, and reverse the polarity of a commonsense part! And it still don't work! I tell them, I gotta get a new part--uh uh, no chance, they think I'll steal from it!"

She then said, "And now, Ad--"

She looked around, to ensure nobody was watching as they walked, and then whispered, "And then, Admiral Cain has the nerve to get us into trouble? Teleports us into a fuckin' minefield? What the fuck is this shit!?"

Harold replied, "I dunno, I don't give a fuck, and shut up. All I know is that pipe"--he pointed to a damaged pipe--"is about to burst due to the shock of being shot up so many times by arty fire, and up ahead we gotta fix a power conduit. Jeez."

BAM! Another rumbling, and the crew was inspired to go on. If only because Howard was responsible for the Dornalians onboard, and was often chosen for this job merely due to his engineering skills. If only he hadn't played so much Galactic Wars V.....

The Paryunus had finally made their slingshot around the planet D'Hara and were holding steady when the Isis began making its break from orbit. Graviton turrets swiveled to meet the advance of the Colonials. Unseen shots ripped through space in a temporal tear. A hail of bullets rained down but quickly stopped.

"First wave of shots fired, Admiral."

Spoor nodded as she rested back in her cushioned couch. "Very well. Have all destroyers launch Star Furries. Tear the rest of their fighter screen to shreds. Once completed they are to reform and begin attacking the oversize Battlestar. They are to aim for engines and weapon ports only. We need a hole opened for the Imperial Marines to attach to the hull of the ship without worrying about intact weapon systems. I want the attack vessel squadrons to form up on our fleet. They'll have the pleasant task of smoothing the hull of that ship out."

Kufadiss nodded and went to work at his station. "Relaying the orders now ma'am."

Outside, hundreds of Star Furries departed from their destroyer bellies and swarmed towards the Isis. Their top priority was taking out the fighter screen. Missiles and railcannons screamed from the Abh fighters as they aimed for the Vipers. All the while, ion cannons continued to fire on the Isis to keep the mammoth ship in its tracks.

At the same time, Gaf'ton was positioning his own forces for the attack. Imperial Marines pounded throughout the Driaron in their heavy armored suits as they made ready for their boarding pods. Captain Estas screamed out orders at the top of his elven lungs. The clean shaven head of the elf stood out among the ranks of the marines as he directed traffic. Weapons were locked down and the atmosphere was sealed in the pods, ready to be launched.

"When I'm a Triad, the cops want to kill me and when I'm a cop, everyone wants to kill me! I'm a scared man."

--Alan, Hard Boiled

"DRADIS reports incoming fighters. Abh Starfuries. Vipers moving to intercept."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Nichols."

Cain leaned on the command console, looking over the information as she paid attention to the reports coming in. The lights still flickered in and out, and the fire rocked the ship. It was obvious the Furies were coming in force now. How she wished she smoked.

Fisk then reported, after another blackout, "Engineering is moving to repair damage to power. DITA is holding, but the power drain is interfering with operations. Unless--"

Cain curtly replied, not turning her eyes from the DRADIS display, "Then fix the damage, or have Engineering do it, Mr. Fisk. I'm a little busy right now." She then began plotting a course, a course she knew was getting harder to make.

Fisk relayed the commands, and Cain, meanwhile, watched the display like a little girl would watch a fish in a fishtank. It was somewhat fun, seeing those enemy blips surround you. Made it seem like a game, and less like the end of the world.

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

Outside the Isis, the Vipers, now reduced in number due to shelling, bombing, and ion strikes, began to swarm around their new enemy contacts. Colonial pilots had always been of good caliber, and this was no exception. With some discipline, they formed into formation and began, after taking hits, to stage a counterstrike. Their own railguns barked, and they were ready to unleash ordinance upon the enemy Starfuries and utilize their manueverability advantages to make the victory bitter for the Abh, would to the Lords that would be possible.

By now, the order had gone out to deploy Raptors, if they hadn't all gone out already, and the Raptors moved to close on the enemy. They would provide initial heavy support for now, throwing missiles at groups of Starfuries that got too close together. However, the enemy Star Furies would begin ripping at the Isis's hull, and duly met with flak and soon some singularity blasts.

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

Townshend, meanwhile, sighed as he approached the conduit, and began fixing the implement. Asking his confidante to hand him the spanner and electrictian's tape, he began working on the wire, leaping back as it occasionally sparked with the force of overload from the ion cannons.

"Damnit....what the fuck.....fucking Donovan. Thinks he runs Engineering like its his own Goddamn kingdom."

A voice accented with a Californian-South Asian lilt spoke jokingly.

"They got you workin' down here?"

Townshend turned, and the lights reappeared to reveal another Dornie. He was accompanied by a couple of Colonials, and he then saluted Townshend, saying, "Comrade Captain."

"Comrade Lieutenant Khan," he said with a smile. "They do."

"Shit. I gotta run a message to Armory. I swear, sometimes we do more manual labor here than I'd like, even with Cain to intercede for us--when she isn't shooting people's heads open." The Pakistani shook his head, pissed that his gunnery skills--indicated by his stripes on his uniform--were not being used.

"No kidding," Townshend said.

"Well, gotta run. Later."

Townshend sighed. This Isis trip was, for the sole exception of a few drinking buddies from Engineering whom he had taught to make "swipe wine," that People's Navy bootleg rum, mostly a bust. Others had spoken about how good their trips were. They had been treated like gods onboard their ships. And yet these Dornalians, Townshend especially....it must have been Cain's anal-retentive spirit, her stern manners, or the nervousness created by her way of executing men for a little thing. But it was getting old, being treated like a stray dog reluctantly taken in.

Especially by the Tauronese. Who did those cocksuckers think they were? Strutting about and worshipping their Admiral like she was Athena incarnate. Hell, if she was a deity, he'd be an athiest. As it was, he was happy with his religion, something the colons were not. Still...things could only go so far.

And never mind how Cain's men treated his women staff....some of them were real pervs. He didn't wanna think about that.

If only he could get a transfer....or at least an Engineering officer who wasn't a "nasty little shit," quoting a professor he knew.

Star Furries clashed with the Colonial Vipers though the Colonials would be in for a bit of a surprise themselves. It was true that their Vipers were good ships and maneuverable but they were only as maneuverable as their human components were. The Abh on the other hand were far more resistant to the forces of acceleration experienced in space flight. Bred for travel without inertia dampers, their bones were far stronger and more durable than that of a human. Abh tended to travel at accelerations that could easily crush the bones of a normal human.

That fact came out in the Abh fighters' fighting tactics as they performed intricate maneuvers that few humans could hope to ever mimic without redding out. Still there was the inevitable fact of war. Abh ships were struck from missiles or flack and burst briefly into flames as their atmospheres combusted and shrapnel rained down.

Spoor watched all of the events unfold emotionlessly from the bridge of the Latchkau. She watched as some of the blips representing Abh ships winked out of existence but there still many more that were continuing the fight as they launched their own payload of missiles swept space with their rail cannons.

"Enemy fighter numbers are dwindling but still holding their ground. Star Furries are working to remove the fighter screen but new contacts are acting as missile vessels."

Admiral Spoor turned her crimson eyes onto the symbols that Kufadiss was referring to. "Order all attack vessels to bring down the Raptors."

"Understood. Orders sent, ma'am."

From a wing of Spoor's growing fleet, a number of Roil-class attack vessels swarmed towards the Colonial lines with the intent of removing all Raptors from the fight. Larger than the Star Furries, the attack vessels sported a massive anti-proton cannon and twin laser turrets for defense.

Hecto-commander Abriel Ceilia lead her unit of eight into the fight along with the rest of massive squadron. "All ships are to keep a tight double diamond formation. Have the laser cannons powered and ready to shoot down any missiles aimed our way. Our objective is to destroy the enemy's heavy fighters. Second objective will be to target the Colonial flagship itself but we must bring down those fighters first so our boarding parties can make it across."

Eight Abh pilots on the other end of her glass panel nodded their understanding. "Yes ma'am."

The attack vessels fell upon the Raptors as great glowing blobs of yellow anti-proton energy spit from the bow of the Abh ships.

Back on board the Latchkau, Spoor was thumping her command saber in the palm of her hand as she mulled over an idea. "Chief of Staff. How many ships are currently under our command now?"

"We have the two Paryunu destroyers, one hundred Roil-class attack vessels, fifty Roth-class patrol ships, two Abriel missile cruisers, twenty-five Whitestars, five Victory Class Destroyers, and now the Home Guards flagship along with its escorts."

Spoor began to pace slightly in front of the railing overlooking the tactical battle map below. "Hmm. That's plenty of firepower but how to use it in to fit the needs of our orders. I can't very well order an all out attack. That will destroy the ship for sure but we cannot continue attacking like this. We need to give the enemy commander something else to worry about besides a few fighters and sporadic fire."


Kufadiss turned to face the admiral. "What would you like to do? We could order the missile cruisers to attack."

"No that would not do. Their defenses would bring down most of the attack and we would run the risk of hitting our own fighters in the middle. So here's what we'll do. Have the Victories move forward and use their particle beams on the Colonial Warstar to punch holes in their hull. We need to keep their crews busy with something other than repairing the power losses caused by the ion cannons."

Three Victory destroyers drifted forward but came to a halt well outside of the fighter dual. Energy hummed throughout the ships as they targeted the broadside hull of the Colonial ship. Streams of particle beams raced through space to collide with the hull of the ship and punch holes into the armor.

"No that would not do. Their defenses would bring down most of the attack and we would run the risk of hitting our own fighters in the middle. So here's what we'll do. Have the Victories move forward and use their particle beams on the Colonial Warstar to punch holes in their hull. We need to keep their crews busy with something other than repairing the power losses caused by the ion cannons."

Three Victory destroyers drifted forward but came to a halt well outside of the fighter dual. Energy hummed throughout the ships as they targeted the broadside hull of the Colonial ship. Streams of particle beams raced through space to collide with the hull of the ship and punch holes into the armor.

[During a particularly painful replay from "Log Drop"]: Let's hear the bones snap! [He then goes on to rewind and replay that shot about 5 times.]

--Kenny Blankenship, Most Extreme Elimination Challenge, aka MXC

The Isis really shook now. Each vibration, each cry of "Hull breach on deck five" or whatever, brought Cain closer to the realization that the Furies were coming to get her. No matter. Each step also made her defiant. Hell, if this was going to be her funeral pyre, let it be an awesome one! The Dornies taught her, at least informally through those shows of theirs, what "awesome" was supposed to be. Drivel yes, but it made you smile.

"Seal off affected areas," Cain ordered. "We don't have time."

One of the Dornies lept up and said, "But sir, there's people down there--engineering teams especially!"

"Frak them! We're dying here, and we don't need to waste time!" With that, she whipped out her pistol and shot the dissenter, before leveling her pistol at Fisk and saying to the corpulent toady, "Now, seal the hatches!"

Fisk nodded and said, "Yes, sir." He then issued the order, "Seal the hatches to the affected areas. No one is to go near them."

-----------

Townshend and his colleague were working when they saw a man dash down the hallway.

"She's gone frakin' insane! She's lost it!"

Townshend got up and then poked the crazed Colonial, saying, "Woah woah! Shut your mouth--they'll shoot! What's going on!?"

The frantic Colonial seaman replied, "Admiral Cain's gonna kill us all, man. She sealed off the areas with hull breaches--I barely escaped! There were people in those damn places! I was with an engineering team, damnit! We coulda fixed that shit! Now, they're gone! FOR WHAT!?"

A couple of Colonial Marines then ran up to the ranting man, and dragged him off Captain Townshend, saying with sadistic grins, "Don't this fraker bother you, Captain. He's lost it." He was then dragged off, a gunshot heard not but a moment later, to the tune of "FRAK YOU!"

Townshend was now scared. Was Cain this willing to die, she cannibalized her own, figuratively? Couldn't she surrender? No, there was bad blood...the Abh would never let her surrender willingly. Still, it was useless to die like this, wasn't it? By the hands of a tyrant? The thought of such a thing on a PN ship scared him--if this happened, the Political Officer would kill the men responsible.

The catgirl next to him said, "Forget it, Harry. It's the Isis."

Townshend said, "No kidding," visibly disturbed. "We finished with that power conduit?"

The catgirl said, "Yeah?"

"Good. Let's get the fr-fuck back to Engineering." With that, Townshend and the catgirl moved back to the Engineering area, where Townshend would probably face another dressing down.

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

Cain then got the report, "Affected areas sealed off. Fire is increasing, and damage is extensive. DITA is going to fail soon."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Nichols." She then mused, "But I think we can play with these Furies one last time, yes?"

"Admiral?" Lt. Nichols said, wondering at Cain's sudden chinstroke and contemplative look.

"Nothing of your concern, Lieutenant," she said, glaring at Nichols, the latter jumping back. She turned to Fisk and said, "Order the Stealthstars out." Fisk smiled, and issued the order.

"Oh yes. 'Every arrow we had has been shot now. We wait on their decision, to see how the case has gone,'" Cain thought to herself. She found those old plays oddly appropriate now.

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

With that, the Abh would notice, if only briefly, the Stealthstars flying out to meet the challenge of the Star Furies and the smaller ships pounding at the Isis. They began striking back, hidden as always, and would prove an itneresting target, backing up the remnants of the Viper and Raptor wings.

OOC: Credit again to David Grene's Translation of Aeschylus's The Eumenidies/Furies, from the Oresteia cycle.

Godulan Tag for Future Reading and Postage.

With the new arrivals of the Colonial stealth fighters, a shift in tactics was needed if only a slight one. Several of the Star Furries were caught off guard by the silent attacks. However the Colonials were sorely lacking in their knowledge of the Abh. Not having adventured far beyond their own colonies or dealing with the Abh, they were not aware of one more genetic characteristic that made them far superior in space combat than humans.

After a series of explosions rocked the squadron of attack vessels lead by Hecto-commander Abriel Ceilia, the commander checked her scanners to see what the source of the attack was. Surprisingly, there was nothing on screen save for the mammoth Warstar but that ship could not have attacked. Ceilia checked her squadron signals to make sure that they were all accounted for. One showed minor signs of damage but nothing fatal.

She smiled as she looked down at one of the contacts still with her. Stories had followed the young pilot up into the Star Forces rank, most common being her nickname which was given to her by a human. "Blue" is what most called the particular Abh but Ceilia and a few others knew her real name. Though for the Hecto-commander, using the Abh's nickname was a means of keeping her beneath her proper status.

"Still with me Blue?"

"Yes commander. Any idea what that attack was?"

Ceilia whirled the squadron around and sent them on attack for a group of Raptors. Once they were pass, the Abriel brought them up easy above the battle. "Reach out with frochaj. If you cannot see the attack, it does not mean it is not taking place. More than enough races in this universe use unseen attacks, if you want to be a commander of your own squadron then you will have to come to realize this."

As Ceilia reached out with her sensory organ, she could feel the stealthed ships in close proximity to her own. Had they been cloaked or enveloped in some multidimensional fold, then 'seeing' the ships would have proven far more difficult. Regardless, their genetic upbringing came through in the end as the Abriel and her Abh pilots soon felt the ships' presence and could soon see them.

"Automatic targeting systems won't work but that doesn't matter to us. These fools will learn that very little of our weapon systems are automatic. Bring the squadron around to bear on the closest group of the stealth fighters. Send word back to HQ about the enemy's little surprise."

Ceilia's attack squadron pounced upon a group of stealth fighters as they switched to relying on frochaj instead of their ships' sensors. Anti-proton cannons and laser fire ignited the night sky. It wasn't long before similar orders were spread throughout the rest of the fighter and attack vessels squadrons.

"So they still have a few tricks up their sleeves, eh?"

Kufadiss nodded his agreement. "We were extremely lucky that we caught their plan early or else we could have lost far more ships than what we did. While we still incurred some casualties, our fighters now know the locations of their stealth fighters."

Spoor watched the battle unfold into its new state with pleasure. Everything danced so wonderfully to the tune of the battle that it was worth the boring patrols to simply watch one glimmer of art. "Now chief, if you'll indulge me. I would like to perform a little experiment. Have the Victories that just attacked, launch a payload of their nuclear warheads."

"Of course Admiral, but may ask what you hope to accomplish?"

Spoor stroke her delicate chin lightly. "His highness is anxious to get his soldiers on board that ship and capture it. I don't have all day to sit here and wait for it to go dead. Therefore, I need to see the weak points in its defenses so that we can properly direct the boarding operations. If they have a hole in their automated defenses, then we can move our fighters to widen the hole and launch his majesty's Imperial Marines."

"Seems logical enough. I'll order the strike."

As the three Victory Destroyers glided back to the safety of their lines, a volley of nuclear missiles blossomed along the hull of the ships. Each warhead streaked across the battlefield straight for the Isis.

Ceilia's attack squadron pounced upon a group of stealth fighters as they switched to relying on frochaj instead of their ships' sensors. Anti-proton cannons and laser fire ignited the night sky. It wasn't long before similar orders were spread throughout the rest of the fighter and attack vessels squadrons....

...As the three Victory Destroyers glided back to the safety of their lines, a volley of nuclear missiles blossomed along the hull of the ships. Each warhead streaked across the battlefield straight for the Isis.

"You're full of shit, you know that? There's a toilet over there."

--Inspector Tequila, Hard Boiled

The Isis's increasingly diminishing defenses could shoot down some of the bombs with singularity shots. But just then.....yet another power surge occurred, and the defenses, DITA and all, fell apart.

Lieutenant Nichols was there to report the fall of the DITA system. As the ship buckled, his voice grew more frantic, more fearful for his life.

"Sir...DITA's down to seventy five....."

*BAM!*

(Frantically) "fifty......"

*WAHKOOM!*

"twelve....."

*BAAAAAAAMMMM! RUUUMMMMMMMMMM!*

"ZERO! We have total shield failure!"

Cain then muttered, stonyfaced as ever and looking at the DRADIS flicker under the shuddering and rumbling of the ship, picked up the gertrude and spoke into it, "Engineering. Fix the power as soon as possible. I need DITA online."

Over the frantic sounds of "Multiple Hull Breaches!" and "WE CAN'T SHAKE THE ENEMY FIGHTERS! THEY FRAKING FOUND US!" from the bridge and comms alike, Cain got a reply from her erstwhile man, Donovan. It was a stern, simple reply frustrated over something.

"This is Donovan. DITA is recharging...but it will need some time."

Cain replied stoically and angrily, "Make it recharge faster. I can't fight like this." She then hung up and asked the flight leader of the Stealthstars, "Status, Blackbird One."

"We can't shake them, Admiral. Those frakers found us. I dunno what kind of magic they used, but they found us! FRA--" The transmission cut out, to the tune of static and a whine, the whine that signified death.

She then looked at the DRADIS, contemplating just how the Furies always managed to get their man.

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

Donovan, meanwhile, began bossing around people to fix the power conduits more than ever. Angry at the quality of the repairs, angry at the Abh shooting at him, angry at the fact that Cain let on those Coredian loving Dornalians--even if she did treat those Cylonworshippers the way they should be treated--angry...he was so angry at a number of things right now. And the destruction of his precious DITA and his precious Isis was only making him angrier than ever. And he was a bit of a tightly wound character.

So when he gave an assignment that one Major Sarah Eckert screamed, "But sir, we just fixed that conduit. And it's a deathtrap!" to, he was understandably ready to blow his stack.

Major Eckert, Caprican member of the Fleet, sighed and facepalmed as she recieved her new work assignment from the ever stalwart and harsh Captain Donovan with an insistent chest poke and an angry, "You turnin' yellow on me? You go back in that conduit, and fix that shit. The Admiral wants to have DITA back on quickly, and she won't get that if she has people bellyaching over something as small as a power conduit."

"But it's dangerous out there! I lost a man in the last attack, there's loose wires and some gas leaking out. Unless I get better safety gear, and assurance I can minimize the risk out there, I am considering this an unlawful order." Eckert insistently said, shaking her head and refusing to move out.

Donovan then slapped her in the face, and said, shoving her to the floor, "You'll find things in here a lot more dangerous in five minutes if you don't go!" Donovan then picked up a gas mask, and tossed it at Eckert with considerable force, hitting her face. He then said, "Here. Happy now? GO! Any more lip and I'll shoot you!" He then whipped out his pistol and said, "NOW!"

Townshend and his catgirl companion arrived back onto the engineering area, and paused, shocked at what was going on. He didn't know what drew him closer, but sheer curiosity seemed to make him want to walk up to Donovan and act like a hero.

"Captain Donovan. Requesting duty assignment," he said loudly.

"Frak off. I'm busy," Donovan said, not even batting an eye.

"Hey, asswipe!"

This made Donovan really mad. He leveled his weapon at Townshend and said "Frak do you want, pretty boy?"

Eckert then walked up to Townshend and said, pushing him away slightly, "I can handle myself, thanks." She then turned to Donovan and said, echoing his chest poke as she pushed harder with each exclamation, "I dunno what he wants, but I know what I want. Some respect! Some consideration! Some concern!"

Donovan glared at Eckert, as the Engineering crew gasped, Dornalian and Colonial. Dropping their tools, they knew something big was going to happen.

"We want to save this ship as much as you do. But we can't do it when you're constantly working us like dogs! Just because we know how to fix conduits and the Dornalians do too doesn't mean we're gods. We still need to follow protocol!" Eckert screamed.

Donovan then put his pistol to Eckert's head and said, "I'm going to count to three. If you don't stand down by the count of three, I will shoot."

"Stop it."

Donovan turned, and he saw Townshend standing with his arms crossed.

Angered, he pointed his gun at Townshend and said sternly, "You again. I oughta shoot you too, you Cylon lover."

Townshend then decided to walk forth. Smiling, he said simply, "Maybe. But I have to agree with Major....."

Eckert didn't turn as she replied with, "Sarah Eckert."

"Eckert here, that you may be going too far. Now, I know you're scared of the Abh out there. Hell, I'm kinda scared too."

He then turned to the Colonials and Dornalians alike and said, " We all are." He got some nods from all sides.

"We don't want to die. But frankly, we're just a tad concerned that you're being somewhat unreasonable. Why the abusive language? Why the beatdowns when we ask for minimum equipment? By all means, we should be getting sufficient protection down there!"

The Colonials went, "Yeah, yeah!" All the Colonials, even the Dornalians.

Donovan then said, motioning to the gertrude with his pistol, "Okay, speak to Admiral Cain! Go ahead!"

Eckert then did so, as did Townshend. The only reply was a simple, "You have your orders, go to them, we're busy," from Cain. Audible to all, it led to angry murmurs from the crew.

Donovan then said, smiling, "Now, get to work! All y'all!"

Eckert then turned around and glared at Donovan saying angrily, "I mean, all you're doing is sitting in your sit-and-spin, and yelling at all of us for being too slow, or too shoddy, or too whatever!"

The shouts of "YEAH!" screamed louder now. The Colonials and Dornalians were beginning to crack.

Townshend said, joining in, "And what's with you abusing the Dornalians!? All you've done is treat me and my contingent like shit! When you sit easy, and when the other Colonial officers get jobs befitting their ranks, we Dornalians get the menial jobs regardless!"

A pause, the Colonials muttering questions, and then more shouts of "YEAH!" emerged, in solidarity.

Eckert then continued with, "And for the love of frak, stop feeling up the womenfolk! From All Colonies! We're sick of it!"

The shouts of "YEAH!" became more pronounced now.

Then, a chant of "Hell no, we won't go! Hell no, we won't go!" The crowd advanced on Donovan, and the surly Engineer became very concerned.

Donovan fumed, and said, pointing at Townshend, "Frak you, you little Commie. We're going to die because some blueskinned faggots are going to frak us in the ass, and you want to talk bad working conditions!?"

He then marched up to Townshend and grabbed him by the scruff of his lapels, saying, "I oughta skin you, you little shit. All you Dornies, and all you Colonials who complain. All you've done is mouth off since you've gotten here, Townshend! Like some spoiled kid in a candy store. Well, it stops now. You hear me?" He then shook his prisoner, and then let Townshend go, pointing his pistol at his forehead.

"Now, I'm going to count to three. Like with Ecker--"

Eckert then punched him in the back of the head, and took his pistol, aiming it at the Chief Engineer's head.

Townshend then gasped a little. Something big was going on.

-------

With that, Cain heard a simple message on her gertrude.

"Admiral, thre's something going on in Engineering. You better come down here. Bring sec-"

The signal cut out. Cain frowned, and then called to Fisk, "Colonel, send a contingent of Marines to Engineering. We may have a problem."

It was difficult to tell if Admiral Spoor had fallen asleep in her lounge or if she was simply contemplating a greater battle strategy. Since the initial attacks, the Latchkau and most of the heavy ships were simply out of the fight letting their fighters and the light craft duke it out. Kufadiss cleared his throat to get the Admiral's attention or to wake her up, which ever the case may be.

"Ma'am. Judging from your experiment, we have mapped out several holes in the Colonial defense system. It is safe to say that we can begin boarding operations as soon as his highness is ready. The nuclear warheads appear to have caused massive electrical failure on board. Most of the ship has gone silent."

Spoor barely opened her eye lids to study her Chief of Staff. "You doubted my plans?"

Kufadiss shrank back in horror. "O-of course not, ma'am. I have always had confident in your leadership it's just sometimes you are the only one that knows where your plan is going."

"Of course. If my plans were obvious, then I would not be a very effective commander. I may be harsh but I am not foolish enough to put your lives needlessly at risk. Inform his highness that he may begin boarding operations. Alert remaining attack vessels to escort the boarding pods to the target."

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

"Message coming through from Admiral Spoor."

Gaf'ton nodded his head and the message from Spoor was promptly read to him. The Abriel smiled slightly. "Excellent. Admiral Spoor is to be commended. She lives up to her reputation yet again. Launch all boarding pods and begin operations."

"Yes your Majesty."

Gaf'ton walked over to stand next to Jessyka as she watched the battle unfold in the Driaron's tactical map. "It is almost over for them. The noose is tightening and the Colonial Admiral will be in our custody."

Darth Twilight merely shrugged as if it was hardly a concern. "Let me know when they have taken the ship under their control. I would like to be there for the sentencing."

"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Green lights flickered on in the boarding pods. The hatches shut and the Imperial Marines were launched into space heading straight for the Isis while it was down. Attack vessels formed up to keep Colonial fighters at bay and provide a safe zone for the defenseless pods. They careened through the battlefield to strike for their armored target.

Each pod contained a squad of the Imperial Marines and their sergeants. Leading the entire expedition was Captain Estas who was the only marine without a helmet with the breathers and secure atmosphere. He checked his weapons at his side. One being a chainsword the Imperial Admiral had acquired specifically for him from Mythrandir and a Boltok pistol. The Captain watched the view ports as they drew near.

The idea was to attach to the hull of the ship where the laser cutters would open a hole and the marines could pour out. Hopefully the first few pods would be able to secure of the section of the ship quickly before any resistance was mounted. Speed and brutality was the key.

OOC: Quotations credit to the US Declaration of Independence. Also, if OG/Kobol can call me to make sure this is kosher, thanks.

IC:

[in English, unexpectedly] Attention! This is a fucking order!

--Superintendant Pang, Hard Boiled

The Abh boarding pods would inevitably be able to latch on, even with the limited reawakening of whatever flak and Stealthstars were left, and when that occurred the sounds could be heard throughout the ship. Fear ran through the Colonial ranks, and maybe through the Dornalian ones too. Would the Abh kill all of them? Would the Abh consider the Dornalians enemies? Only time would tell.

As Cain saw the enemies close on DRADIS, she simply ordered, "All hands, prepare to repel boarders."

Then, turning to Colonel Fisk, she said, "Colonel, prepare to seal off any and all sections of the vessel the Abh board on and vent them. They will not have us that easily."

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

The Colonial Marines, meanwhile, ran to Engineering and witnessed a scene no one wanted to see. Ranks of angry men, Dornalian and Colonial, dropping their tools milling angrily about, and openly speaking of sedition and striking, refusing to work. Two people, one Dornalian and one Colonial, seemed to be marshaling them about, watching over a Captain Donovan who was hogtied with electrical tape. The mood was tense, and the presence of Marines lining up in ranks and leveling rifles at their comrades, the Sergeant at Arms stepping forth, did nothing to ease it.

"What's the meaning of this?" he asked.

Eckert turned and replied, "Sergeant at Arms, we have remonstrated with Captain Donovan, and the Admiral for long enough. We have officially decided to go on strike."

Fists were pumped into the air, and Townshend replied with, "Yeah. Until we are treated with the rights Colonial Fleet Officers are entitled to under the Colonial Uniform Code of Military Justice, we will not budge and we will not do what you ask."

The Sergeant at Arms smiled evilly and said, "Well that's too bad, kids. Because I've got orders to put you back to work!"

"Try and make us, piggy!" shouted one Dornalian officer.

"We will." Motioning to his Marines, they set their rifles to "safeties off" and cocked them. The Sergeant continued with a simple, "We've loaded live ammo, and explosive rounds at that. If any of you want a refresher on how much explosive rounds can hurt, be my guest. Otherwise, shut the hell up!"

The men began to waver, but then Townshend stepped up.

"So that's it? We have legitimate complaints, and you shoot us?"

The Sergeant at Arms replied, "If it means less annoyances like you, then so be it."

Eckert replied, moving to Townshend's side, "We are not annoyances. We are human beings. Loyal to the United Colonies, but not loyal to tyranny!"

"Yeah!" the others in the room shouted.

Townshend then replied, "Besides, big man. If you shoot us, then no one operates the Engineering systems!"

Another shout of "YEAH!" erupted, this one angrier and more desperate than before.

Eckert then finished the speeches with, "What's it going to be, big man?"

A pause.

Then, the Sergeant-at-Arms said, "Okay." Turning to his men, he said, "Men, you may fire on my mark!"

Now, angry shouts of protest rose from the crowd. Ominously, the Sergeant look, "I'm going to count to three. I don't care if you surrender before three. I'm gonna enjoy killin' all of you miserable cat-frakin' Cylon loving commies! ALL OF YOU!"

He then opened fire on Townshend and Eckert, pumping several slugs into them by flipping back and forth between them as he rapidly fired and yelled, "AAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!" not caring to aim. Even his men began to wince at that.

The crowd gasped....and then something miraculous occured.

Townshend staggered back up. Nursing several bullets in his upper arm and one in his gut, he smiled defiantly. Eckert did the same, though she had a pronounced limp in her left leg, and a grazing wound in her side. However, several men behind them fell, gasping for life as men attended to them.

Townshend laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Then, he said, "Oh, I haven't laughed like that since I was a little girl, thank you." The Sergeant at Arms was scared now, and then another pause fell upon the room. Who was this man?

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

Then a shout of, "They got Blackie!" Everyone turned to a man cradling a dead woman in his arms with a headshot from the Sergeant's shooting spree, glaring at the Marines. Said man then picked up a pipe wrench and then ran to attack the Sergeant, saying, "YOU MISERABLE FRAKER!" The Sergeant tried to shoot back, and his men did as well, but something about that man's act inspired all the engineers in the room as the pipe-wrench attacker was cut down by the bullets.

He smacked the Sergeant in the arm.

And with that, Eckert screamed, "CHARGE!"

And then, like a scene out of Eisenstein's The Battleship Potemkin, the whole of the Engineering detail stormed the Marines. The Marines called for backup as they were swamped by angry men with wrenches, arc welding torches, and all manner of tools now turned to breaking apart men. As the Marines were bludgeoned to death or surrendered and shoved into a corner, one of the Engineers turned to the injured spokespersons and said, "You guys okay?"

Townshend said, "Get me and the major some medpacks. Some anasthetic. It hurts bad."

As then angry Engineers gleefully picked up rifles and spare ammo from their victims, Eckert and Townshend looked at one another and realized what they had just unleashed. Especially with Cain's order of "Prepare to Repel Boarders."

Townshend then stood up and said, "Listen up, people! Any minute now, Cain's goons are going to bear down on us and kill us just like they'll kill the boarders."

Eckert then replied, "So get those guns from the men, give them out, don't be greedy with ammo!" Pointing to a group busy looting a wounded Marine, "You there! Quit frakin' around and set up a barricade with tables and junk, block all entrances."

Townshend then continued with, "You lot! Form squads of men and begin looking for supplies and sympathizers! We need pickets, guards, and a watch. Come on, move it!"

At that, the men got busy.....and Townshend then turned to Eckert.

"Think we can hit the Armory?"

Eckert sighed and said, "Not unless we have a lot of men and guns. Once Cain gets word of this and the Abh get to boarding, she'll lock that place down with enough Marines to make this a Herculean labor."

Townshend then called to his catgirl assistant and the Pakistani from earlier.

"Guys, can you two form a team? We need a party to get to the Armory and get some spare ammo and guns."

Khan replied, "I think so, but it won't be easy. People dunno whether we're here to get better working conditions or to stage a revolution."

Townshend and Eckert looked at one another.

"Revolution?" Townshend asked. "This is your ship."

"Revolution. I can't stand hypocrites." She then cocked a rifle harvested from a Marine, and glared at the man's body....

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

A transmission went throughout the ship--one that made Cain curious at first. It was a male voice. That man, the leader of the Dornalians, Townshend. What was he about?

"Attention fellow Colonial Officers.

We in the Engineering Section have been victims of an attack upon us. But not by Abh. But by our own Colonial Marine Corps."

Then, Cain tried to shut it off once she heard its true intent, she found she couldn't for some reason, her calm fading under the pressure of incoming boarders and mutineers and making it hard to find a button--one that worked anyway. Cain then slammed the console and went, "No, no...." In the meanwhile, another voice continued. A female voice--she didn't know it, it was Eckert, delivering a speech painfully as she was being repaired for wounds.

"Why, you ask?

Because we dared to speak out against the abuses of one Captain Hendrick Donovan. A good Engineer, but an abusive one who cares little for his men. We merely asked for a guarantee of minimum working conditions and respect for procedure; we are loyal Colonials who want to do their part. But the authorities have answered us with naught but disrespect and neglect, and we are now no longer willing to be victims!"

Townshend's voice returned, and would alternate with Eckert's as Cain was about to lose it.

"Therefore, we have decided to put Admiral Cain and the other Colonial Fleet officers who collaborate with her to scrutiny--the pure scrutiny of the little man's anger. For, to quote some old men who had good ideas, 'We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness..."

"...But when a long Train of Abuses and Usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a Design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their Right, it is their Duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future Security.'

It is with that in mind we hereby declare ourselves the "All-Sailors' Tribunal of the Warstar Isis." We charge Admiral Helena Cain with fostering a climate of corruption and abuse, and for willfully mismanaging the affairs of this vessel in a combat situation. We charge her XO Colonel Fisk for aiding and abetting such corruption and abuses. We urge all good officers, Colonial and Dornalian, to assist us in the execution of this endeavour. Thank you."

Cain then replied on the comms, her voice quivering for the first time in ever, "All hands. Prepare to repel boarders and mutineers. Failure to comply means death. Thank you."

Attacks from outside the the Isis were held off so as to not run the risk of damaging any of the incoming boarding pods. Instead, Admiral Spoor issued orders for all available craft to keep the Colonial ship hemmed in while the attack vessels and fighters sweep away the rest of its fighter screen.

On board, the marines filed out of their pods and swept the hallways. Admiral Cain would be disappointed when trying to vent the ship and find out that the marines came with their own self-contained atmospheric suits. Life was a pain when things worked out that way. Colonial crew members quickly found out that anyone that did not surrender promptly, were quickly shot and dispatched of. There was no reason in worrying about prisoners now when the main goal was capturing the ship and its commanding crew. Magnetic boots stuck to the floors in areas where there was no gravity or where atmosphere was being vented.

Once there were enough marines aboard, they began branching off in teams on updated missions through their HUDs. A small detachment went after engineering, engines, and munitions while the bulk of the Imperial Marines tackled after the bridge. They had the schematics from the Colonial remnant fleet that they were using as references hoping that the overall layout would be somewhat similar.

Regardless, the marines were not to be thrown out easily. They were bringing enough firepower on board for a full knock-out drag-out fight usually reserved for ground warfare. The only reason there were not phantom tanks aboard was because the boarding pods simply were not big enough.

We either conquer the world, or you kill me tonight with this gun!

Johnny Wong, Hard Boiled



The Furies had come. The Abh had landed, and before long they would swamp the vessel with all they had. Already, reports were flooding the CIC, and none good. Repeat, hasty shouts of "Mayday!" came over the comms.

"Admiral, we're getting fraked from two ends. Mutineers have arisen in all quarters of the ship, Dornies and Colonials. We also got Abhs running around. We'll try to hold them of--"

The signal then cut out to the tune of gunfire. Cain didn't know whether it was Abh or Mutineer, only that it wasn't good. She then ordered her XO, "Colonel Fisk, please seal off all sections with Abh Marines or mutineers on them with blast doors, proceed to vent."

Fisk nodded and began issuing the orders to any and all loyal Colonials left. Cain knew the blast doors probably wouldn't help much, for those Damn Dornalians were trained to cheat to win and those Abh probably had something, since they had come this far.

------
Townshend and Eckert also heard the news. The inevitable had happened. But unlike Cain, they had little reason to fear the Abh...much. A good portion of the ship had responded well to their call for mutiny, and already men on several parts of the ship had hijacked comms, feeding messages pledging loyalty and sending armed sailors to battle their former comrades. Eckert and Townshend began speaking to each of them rapidly, telling them to wear something red and Earth Related to prevent friendly fire.

But, one communiqué freaked everyone out.

"Sir! They're closing the blast doors! Also, we've spotted the boarders, they're here! And they're opening up!"

Townshend replied, "Thanks, soldier. Lemme handle this."

-----

The groups heading to engineering, munitions, the engines, and indeed all over the ship would witness a rather ugly scene. At each one, the Abh would find that the Colonial Marines would have enough on their hands. They were being shot at by what looked like Dornalian People's Navy officials and Colonial sailors and Marines with either makeshift red armbands, or something Earth related, such as a Los Angeles Dodgers cap, punk rock t-shirt over their uniform, anime plushie or whatever. Be it for control of the Armory, control of the computers controlling comms and atmospheric controls, control of the galley--whatever it was, things were bloody.

It was a chaotic scene, one that was probably none too surprising, if somewhat unexpected. Even as the Abh took aim at the Colonials in general, they would find the Mutineers and the Dornalians that got caught up in the initial skirmishes quicker to surrender than their Loyalist Counterparts, or in fact eager to help them shoot at their former comrades, not out of love of the Abh--but rather out of anger at being pushed around for so long. The Abh just happened to be there. Whether the Abh would accept such help would be up to them, but it was going to be surprising.

Then, the doors began closing....this put both the mutineers and the loyalists into a frenzy, as they tried to bolt for the exit before they were trapped like rats.

A message blared over the speakers. First was a male, then a female voice. The voices would then alternate, as they urgently delivered a message directed at the Marines.

"Attention Abh Marines. This is Comrade Captain Harold Townshend, New Dornalian People's Navy, here on Ship Exchange and co-chair of the All-Sailors' Tribunal of the Warstar Isis along with Major Sarah Eckert of the Colonial Fleet. We are attempting to bring Admiral Cain and her second, Colonel Fisk, to justice for her corruption, tyrannical mismanagement and neglect.

Eckert here. You will have noticed by now, groups of Colonial and Dornalian Sailors and Colonial Marines, shooting at Colonial Marines. These righteous men are wearing red, or something related to Earth SSR. Do not shoot them. They are your comrades. We want Cain brought to justice as much as you do."


Then, the blast doors, which were just about to close, stopped.

"We have stopped the closure of the blast doors by cutting their power. We have done this in good faith. We ask that you respect our men, and let us do what we must to fulfill our mutual goal, in turn. You let us fight, we can only end up ending this much more quickly. Please. If you can hear us, communicate with us as peacefully as possible, using the ships' comms."

Just to ensure the Abh got the point, similarly intended messages were played every so often, from then on in....
---------------------

At that, the Mutineers began regrouping for continued attacks on their former kin. The Dornalians, being trained in MacGyvering their way out of things, would begin devising ingenious ways to reopen those blast doors that had been sealed up by the order to close. In the meantime, they were bypassed with ducts and other such things.

As this occurred, scattered groups of Mutineers began quickly giving up to the Marines, although many remained wary of their new visitors, and kept their distance as they continued to assault the Cain Loyalists.

One thing for sure for the Loyalists was that they were about to face a force of Imperial Marines barreling to the bridge. The commander of this group threw up tables, chairs, anything to make barricades, and began grabbing weapons up to and including heavy machineguns in order to stop these intruders. It didn't help that these Abh were heavily armed, and that from another flank, it seemed that a large force of Mutineers was bearing down on them too--on their own initiative, no less.

Nonetheless, it would be rough going. Crude as it was, the Colonial Marines had prepared a defense-in-depth strategy, and were prepared to do what it took to buy that much more time. They greeted the incoming Abh Imperial Marines with bursts of machinegun fire and explosive bullets aplenty.

--------

"Cap, we've got problems. Bigass force of Cain's goons is assembled near the CIC, and they've fortified themselves. Abhs are moving in too."

Townshend then stroked his beard, and said, "We'll disable the life support systems in that quarter to support your assault. Tell your men to wear NBC Gear, and oxygen masks. It's gonna be hard going."

--------
As Cain spoke, she fumed. Oh, did she want that man DEAD! Those Engineers had disabled the power to the doors, and now she found her access to atmospheric controls locked out for Lords know what reason, possibly Mutineers siezing the computers.

But she wouldn't be able to do anything. For the power to the CIC suddenly cut out, and only emergency power came on. Additionally, the room seemed hotter now, and harder to breathe in. Not to mention, the artificial gravity seemed to be breaking down, as Cain struggled to hold on.

"What the frak!?"

Cain then rushed about and asked her XO, "Status? What the shit is happening?!"

Fisk replied, "Sir, it seems that the Mutineers have cut off our power and life support!"

"Can we still communicate with Engineering?" said the Admiral.

"Unknown."

Cain then sighed. The Furies, it seemed, wanted to humiliate her before she died.....

Then, the shots outside, and cries of, "Frakin' traitors!"

Cain knew the assault had begun.

There was most likely only one question going through a few Colonials' minds right now and that was, who in the hell would bring rockets and tactical nukes to a boarding fight. Apparently the Abh, that's who. When the Imperial Marines came upon a group of Colonials that were too entrenched to force out of their cover, the marines resorted to missiles and light tactical nukes for the extremely embedded soldiers.

It was the same way with the Colonials outside the CIC of the Isis. The Imperial Marines were not rushing in nor were they interested in wasting lives needlessly. Select soldiers that carried the heavy equipment strapped the rockets over their shoulders and let loose with the attacks. Gun shots followed the attacks to try and pick off any stunned Colonials.

As the message played over the comm system, Captain Estas's elf ears perked up at the announcement. It was a curious situation to board the ship during a mutiny but it would all be for the glory of the Emperor. Orders were sent out to not harm the mutineers but to have them continue the attack in conjunction with the Imperial Marines' purpose. If nothing else, at least they could soak up the bullets while the Imperials finished their mission.

Still, the leader of the lot had to be confronted and see where he truly stood. Estas and his personally trained squadron made their way to the nearest comm system and clicked it on. A mechanical sounding voice, thanks to the breathing apparatus and the Imperial Marine helmet, traveled through the circuits to Townshend.

"This is Captain Estas of the Imperial Marines, His Majesty's right arm. We are here to take Admiral Cain under our custody to submit before the Emperor for crimes committed against the Abh. My soldiers have been ordered to not fire on your mutineers so long as they are not fired upon first. If you wish to further our cause, then you can help by opening the doors to where your Admiral is hiding so we may drag her out by the scruff of her neck."

OOC: Abh still gets to kill Cain herself, but I figured this much should occur. Also, scene below with Aminta and Cain is a parody/homage/direct quotation of a scene in John Milius' The Wind and the Lion.

IC:

"He must be checked. We want no Caesars."

--Jawaharlal Nehru



"This is Captain Estas of the Imperial Marines, His Majesty's right arm. We are here to take Admiral Cain under our custody to submit before the Emperor for crimes committed against the Abh. My soldiers have been ordered to not fire on your mutineers so long as they are not fired upon first. If you wish to further our cause, then you can help by opening the doors to where your Admiral is hiding so we may drag her out by the scruff of her neck."

Townshend would reply after what seemed like a brief pause, with a simple, "This is Townshend. We will assist you in taking the bridge. As it is, our capacity to open the doors from here isn't good, but if we can get people to blow them down, we can do it. We have an assault force en route; they may have people who can break into the doors."

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

At that point, the Mutineer assault force began its attack. The same engineering teams that had killed life support now broke into the bulkheads, given the orders via radio to go in and get the doors to open.

As they manuevered, Townshend's Catgirl, one Aminta Jacinta-chibi of Long Beach, California and someone whom Ceilia may have known, was busy crawling through the ducts of the ship with a few surly Colonials as she held a wrench in her mouth, a sautering iron with her tail and some toolboxes with her hands.

"Got enough equipment, there?" one of them, a Caprican, asked.

She didn't dignify that with a comment. She did however, end up getting to the repair conduit where the bridge controls were. Fortunately, the enemy hadn't thought of putting guards around that area. Aminta lept down and then pointed to the machinery, saying, "This it?"

Another Colonial, a Tauronese, said, "Frak yeah, that's it. We cut that, the damn doors will open up."

Aminta then said, "Okay, pinches, this is how we'll do it. Bobeck, Carey, watch the approaches for assholes. Rest of you, get yourselves over here, I wanna make sure I'm doing this right."

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

Outside, shots and molotov cocktails flew from the mutineers' line to the lines of their former comrades. They weren't as well armed as the Abh, but admittedly, burning with enough anger at the system to more than make up for it. It also helped that the armory had just been raided, so some had spare magazines and shotshells and grenades.

Still, the fighting, as it was on the rest of the vessel, was violent. The Colonial Marines entrenched here refused to give up, even when subjected to the vagaries of what happened when life support failed.

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

Aminta then finally said, "Here we go.....gimme that energy screwdriver again."

Aminta then took the tool and began working the console with it one last time. The other Colonials in the room looked at her oddly as she oscillated between the sonic function and laser functions, curious as to how an energy tool could even work, much less exist without severe power drain.

Finally, the console flashed green, and then she said, "Awesome." Radioing Townshend, she said, "The bridge doors are opened."

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

A series of angry rumblings then emerged throughout the ship, as the staccato fire of atomic weapons began to take its toll on the vessel. Perhaps Estas and his cohorts weren't quite versed in Colonial shipbuilding, but Dornalians had often complained that when exposed to atomic munitions, Colonial ships tended to be very unstable. As such, their atomic assaults were gouging entire chunks of the superstructure out of the vessel, and putting entire secondary sections at risk.

Estas would get a reply on his comms. This time, it came from a radio, not the ships' PA.

"This is Townshend again. While I appreciate you not shooting our mutineers, I'd appreciate you curbing the use of atomic munitions. Colonial ships have a tendency to go up rather quickly when atomics are used, and that will interfere with our mutual mission.

That having been said, the bridge doors are now opened. However, we are still reporting resistance from Colonial Marine forces. Our men are making progress, as I am sure yours are."

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

Aminta then said, "Well, what now? Drink beer, get it on, what?"

The Caprican said, "Frak that. All I've done since entering the Fleet is drink. I wanna fight for once."

Aminta then asked, "Any of these lead to the bridge?"

A pause.

Then, one of the Colonials, an Aeralonese, said, "Hey. I think there is...."

"We got magnetic booties, right?" Aminta asked.

"Yeah."

At that point, they immediately cocked their pistols, and Aminta pulled out what looked like a dagger or stilletto of some sort. Everyone knew what this meant, now. With a hearty cheer, Aminta said, "Let's do this!"

And thus, the team then swore the old Dornalian war cry....

"Leeeeerrrroooooyyyy.....JENKINS!"

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

Cain and her cohorts were now suffocating on the bridge. It was getting rather hard to think now. No oxygen, high heat, lack of gravity--so very stressful, a stress quite like the Admiral had never experienced before.

The power had been cut, so there was no way for her to tell what was going on except the staccato of guns outside, and the rumbling of massive explosions. DRADIS didn't work, she was blind. And her gertrude also didn't work--it had no power to it. She was blind, and dumb.

The Furies had proven very cruel indeed. Then again, she thought as she struggled to stay grounded onto her console, the Furies were agents of primal anger, revenge, and violence. It took Athena to tame them into the Eumenides that now presumably lay behind her enforcement of Colonial Law. The playwrights had certainly put this point forth, especially the one the Dornies called Aeschylus. But, she got the feeling that for this moment, as the doors slammed open and she saw the twin horrors of Colonials killing Colonials again and the Abh killing Colonials--all coming for her--that the Furies had temporarily reverted back to their old ways, before the Lords had gotten to them.

"Oh Lords. Forgive me," she said softly, with considerable alarm.

"There ain't no God that'll save you now, bitch!"

At that point, she felt herself jerked about, and forced to the ground. There she saw one of those Furies in front of her. In her oxygen-deprived delirium, she saw a grotesque parody of man, a shortish woman with the ears of a cat clad in magnetic boots and an oxygen mask. Around her, she could see others shooting and one man had forced Colonel Fisk against the DRADIS Console with a gun to his head.

The Fury introduced herself, with a smarmy look on her face.

"Master Chief Petty Officer Aminta Jacinta-chibi, New Dornalian People's Navy and member of the All-Sailors' Tribunal."

There was then, a dagger pointed at Cain's throat.

"And you are my prisoner."

Cain replied, "You're mad. You FURIES ARE MAD! OH LORDS!" in the most angry, melodramatic way possible.

"Yes, sir!" was all she got in reply.

As that occurred, the Colonial Marines outside heard the occurences going on, and began to rush in to try and reverse the course....

-----------

All Townshend could reply with when he heard of the seizure of Cain was, "Oh, shit."

OOC: Courtesy of OG - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qv4cD5KHgX4&feature=related

If the Imperial Marines had any concern as towards the hull integrity of the ship, they didn't show it as the ship rocked yet again from another explosion. Upon closer look, there was some sense to all the madness. None of the explosions took place anywhere near munitions, fuel cells, or engines. There was the Emperor's prize to obtain and they would not allow it to slip away simply by a mere explosion.

No, Cain could only pray that her death would come so quick as the cold depths of space.

The Marines continued their attacks trying to clear one section of the ship at a time. As they gained further control of the infrastructure, they did the surprising thing of making some repairs. Fires were put out, minor hull leaks were restored and a bit of atmosphere was restored. In the mean time, they continued their push to munition lockers for security and engine rooms to keep track of fuel cells. All explosives needed to be accounted for and kept track of so as to not risk literally blowing the mission.

As Colonials left their posts to fled into the command center, the Imperials were not above shooting them in the back as they ran. Once the Colonials were completely distracted, the Marines rushed in to fill the void of the party. Now all guests were represented as Abh pointed gun barrel at Colonial, Colonial at Colonial, and so on.

A Sargent, signified by the golden cape around his shoulders, radioed out to the Captain. "Captain Estas, we have breached the bridge. Repairs throughout the ship are underway and vital areas are currently being secured. Check points are being fortified and sentries are posted along the way. Recommending your presence on the bridge."

Estas was not far from his headset which was custom fitted to his elven ears. "Very well. You are to be commended on your work, Sargent. Surely the Emperor will smile with favor this day. I shall arrive momentarily."

The Sargent clicked the radio off then spun into the room along with his platoon. His bolter rifle pointed into the crowd as his mechanical voice drifted over the deadening air. "Drop your weapons or die! Drop them or die! This is your only warning!"

As Captain Estas was on his way to the bridge, he made contact with Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton and briefed the Abriel on the situation. "Your Majesty, the vermin is within our grasp. We shall have the Emperor's prize soon."

Gaf'ton smiled as he heard the news. "Excellent, Captain. You have done the Empire a great service this day. I will be making my way to you now."

"But Excellency, at least allow us to secure more of the ship for your arrival."

Gaf'ton waved off the concern. "All I need is a squad to report to a hangar bay to escort myself and one other to the bridge."

"It shall be done."

Gaf'ton clicked off the link and looked at Jessyka. "Are you ready?"

Darth Twilight stared at the holographic image of the Colonial vessel. Her entire body was covered from head to toe in cloth. All that was visible were her eyes but even that was enough for the old Abriel to see that she brimmed with hatred and rage. "I am."

Gaf'ton lead her to the shuttle bay where a calicke was standing by. It wasn't long before the light vessel was closing the distance to the Colonial warship accompanied by a squadron of fighters and attack vessels.

I had killed a big snake--I was now a big fellow.

--Willa Cather, My Antonia

At the immediate order to surrender their weapons, the Colonials, both Mutineers and Loyalists, dropped their weapons and put their hands up in the air. Something told them the big scary men in armor on the bridge weren't worth messing with.

One man, a Mutineer, called to tell the news on his comms, as Aminta put her stilletto down.

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

The Furies had come to surround her....she had always known they take many forms.....big, small, tall, red, white black it didn't matter which. The Lords had abandoned her only the Furies could do something now.....here she was Cain just Cain just awaiting her fate......

What now?

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

By now, Townshend got the word that the Abh had taken the bridge--but one of their own had taken Admiral Cain first.

Townshend then spoke on the ship's comms, eager to avoid any further trouble. Then, Eckert would speak to begin sentencing.

"Attention all sailors. Admiral Cain has been apprehended by the All-Sailors Tribunal and the Abh Marines have taken the bridge."

"We will now begin sentencing. All in favor?"

A hearty reply all over the ships comms thundered.

"AYE! KILL THE BITCH! KILL THE BITCH!"

Eckert then said, "Very well. The sentence is death. Admiral Helena Cain, Colonel Fisk, you are sentenced to the same sentence you have issued to so many others. Death by summary execution. That is all."

The comms cut out as Eckert and Townshend then went to confront the Abh Marines heading to Engines and Engineering, and surrender.

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

When the announcement came, Aminta then picked up Cain, and then said, "Hey, big guy. You might want this."

She then gently shoved the catatonic Admiral at the Sergeant, and then issued a Dornalian salute. Colonel Fisk followed, though he did so sobbing. They knew the end was going to come.

Aminta then casually asked, "Do you know a Ben-er, Ceilia Abriel?"

--------

The scaffold looks awfulniceyesitdoes........

I wonder what the Lords are like up in Olympus?

Picon
United Colonial Fleet Headquarters
Fourteen Hours after the disappearance of the Warstar Isis

The war room was bustling with activity. Men and women were shouting over each other, as Chaos had decided to descend it’s cruel hand to the Twelve Colonies. The phones were ringing, as countless men and women worked on their computers, scanning the confines of Colonial Space, and beyond the Red line.

Admiral Nagata paced up and down in the front row of computers.

“Admiral, word from Kobol, the football has not been seen.”

Admiral Nagata, an older man, and a veteran of the second and third cylon war, walked over to the console. Staring down the man, he peered at the console. “Alright, begin scanning Zeus, perhaps she accidently jumped into the gas giant.

“Sir.” he replied. “We have scanned that area from Ragner. The Isis has not been sighted. I hate to say it sir, but they may have accidently jumped into the sun.” the man informed the Admiral.

“Do you have any evidence of that ?” the Admiral growled back.

Sheepishly the enlisted man shook his head. “No sir.”

“Then do not come up with some damn theory unless you have some facts to back it up.” Admiral Nagata barked at the man. “Admiral Cain is a damn friend of mine, and frak it if I am going to call off the search, on the idea that she is just gone. Continue the search. Begin to analysis Dornie space. I want reports from their stations within the hour.”

“Sir.” the enlisted man replied, as he picked up the phone. “This is Picon Fleet HQ, patch me through to Mars.”

This was becoming to frustrating, as the Admiral began to feel something was wrong in the pit of his stomach. What would happen if she has been killed in some unfortunate accident? His mind began to race of the possible implications of the Admiral’s death, the one woman who through thick and thin kept the Colonies safe, and together. No, he didn’t want to think of that.”

He looked to the room, boasting his voice as loud as he could. “Has anyone got a damn clue where in the frak the Isis is?” he yelled. The room soon went quiet, as no one answered. “Alright keep me posted. And where in the hell is De Bruyn?”

“Sir.” another enlisted man said, holding the mouth piece over the phone. “The Quorum is growing concerned about the seemingly erratic behavior of the fleet. They wish to speak with you immediately.”

Admiral Nagata shook his head, “Tell them that we are drilling for an invasion of the Colonies, and that they should not worry.” He told the man.

“Sir?”

“If those damn self serving politicians learn what has happened, then soon the general public will find out. You do not want to have panics and riots on our hands do you?”

“No sir.”

The man then released the receiver, “I am sorry, the Admiral is in a meeting. We have a scheduled drill for today. Yes sir I understand... Yes sir. I will have him call you Delegate Hister. Good day ma’am.”

The old man continued to look at the stations, as he knew that he didn’t have that much longer before the cat got out of the bag. The Quorum was an annoying thorn in the fleet’s side, but they would not be disengaged so easily. He reached down and grabbed the phone. “This is Admiral Nagata, patch me through to the Big Gun, Colonial Priority one. Make damn sure it is secure.”

The phone began to ring, “This is Picon Actual. Admiral, have you any leads on the ball?”

The phone began to ring, “This is Picon Actual. Admiral, have you any leads on the ball?”

"Can anybody play the drums? I mean someone good!"

--Pete Townshend, speaking during the Quadrophenia tour 1973, when Keith Moon passed out.

Onboard the Big Gun, Fourteen Hours Post-Cain's dissapearance

The search was getting frustrating, and it was obvious the Colonials were alarmed. The usually unflappable South African was leaning over the console, and already sighing. JRCCC in San Diego, Mars Command, New Leningrad Command, and other military HQs had dialed into De Bruyn's vessel, swamping him with complaints about random Colonials asking where "their football went." They didn't get the code evidently, but it was enough to know that something was terribly wrong.

"Admiral, we're getting transmission from Picon Actual--secure line for you." The tac officer said that in the midst of a flood of angry calls, most consisting of expletives and admonitions to "tell those Colons to stop wasting our bandwidth!"

De Bruyn motioned for it to be patched over to his console, where he replied, "Negative, Picon Actual. We have not seen her, try as we might with all of our technological prowess and wide ranging movement. Given the number of calls Picon Actual seems to have made over the past few minutes, it seems none of us know where she went either. I've broken myself up into search parties, but none so far has seen the Isis, over."

Now De Bruyn really knew something was wrong. Externally he was as calm as ever. Internally, he was now very much worried. This was all too convienient, all too much--how could a ship like that disappear?

Youu can not play God, and wash your hands of the things that you have done. Sooner or later, the day comes when you can not hide from the things you have done any longer.” Commander Adama, Decommissioning ceremony of the Battlestar Galactica

Frustration was the least of the concerns for Admiral Nagata as the usually formal man, sighed openly over the coms to his commanding officer. How in the hell did the Isis vanish, taking with it the leader of the Twelve Colonies? How was it possible for the largest and most powerful ship in the Twelve Colonies arsenal to just vanish without a trace?

“Thank you Admiral.” Nagata finally spoke up, his voice clearly sounding disappointed. “Please continue your search. I will begin to plan for worse case scenario.”

“One other thing, sir.” Admiral Nagata spoke clearly into the phone. “Assuming that the Isis is not found, regulations demand that the next in line for the Admiral of the Fleet be instated, and for us to assume that she is currently dead, incapacitated, or captured. If within ten hours, no trace of the Isis can be found, you will have to be sworn in as Admiral of the United Colonial Fleet.” he said reluctantly.

“That is all Picon out.”

The room was nearly quiet as the man hung up the phone. Dornie and Colonial alike looked at each other, as they overheard the Admiral begin planning to remove Helena from her post. He looked around the room, as all eyes seemed to be on him. “What are you all doing? Don’t you have a job to do? Set the clock, for T- Ten hours. Begin now, and find me our boys and girls before this clock runs out.” he ordered the room.

A heavily armored hand grasped Cain by the arms. Here was the Emperor's prize and the soldier could not help but smile behind the rebreather in his helmet. Such a gift bestowed to the highest authority would only bring rewards and favor to his unit and the Imperial Marines as a whole. So elated by the capture was he, that he merely shook his head at Amnita's question. Few ground soldiers interacted with the Abh that it was unlikely that he had ever run into the Abh.

From the doorway to the bridge, strode Captain Estas and his personal squadron. The Captain removed his helmet revealing his clean shaven head and pointed ears. To anyone that knew the Abh, most knew that a small part of their population resembled space elves with their ears but seeing an honest elf in their midst would be surprising to say the least. There was little determining what backwater world this elf came from.

Still, he looked nothing like what was read in the fantasy books. Clean shaven, tall, and heavily muscled; Estas was a figure of power more than fiction. A smile that was not at all pleasant crept onto his face once he spotted the Admiral. "Ah, Admiral Cain. Welcome to the Abh Empire. I hope you will enjoy your stay."

With a nod of his head, a soldier from his squadron clamped a pair of pain braces on her wrists as her arms were pulled behind her back. Estas checked to make sure that they were secure enough. "Move without my command and you will have the pleasure of experiencing a most excruciating pain. Though, in all likeliness, it will feel like a mere tickle compared to what is to come."

Turning from the woman, he began barking out orders to his men. "Gather their weapons and keep them in line. His majesty is coming aboard for inspection."

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

Gaf'ton and Jessyka were greeted by a squad of marines as their shuttle touched down in the hangar bay of the Isis. All snapped to a salute in unison when the Abh touched their boot heels to the floor. Gaf'ton smiled at his creation. Without a doubt, they would be the fiercest ground force the Abh had ever fielded though his work was only half completed. Fear of the Imperial Marines now needed to spread to would be enemies.

"Lead on," he bade the soldiers as he walked encircled with Jessyka.

Darth Twilight studied the halls of the Colonial vessel as they walked. It was not the exact same ship she was held on during her imprisonment but enough was familiar to conjure up old memories. Even with the Force inhibitors still functioning, it did not take much to feed her inner anger. Only now she didn't need the Force to kill.

It wasn't long before they reached the bridge after passing through a series of check points and fortifications. The Abriel stepped through the doorway as he saw what looked to be more of summary execution than an actual surrender. His pointed ears stuck out through his long blue hair while a pair of emerald jewels dangled behind his ears. A double winged golden tiara wrapped around his forehead signaling his ranking and status in the Empire. A long blue cape hung from his broad shoulders while an emblem of the eight headed dragon decorated his left breast.

Abh were typically thinner beings made for space travel but the engineers behind Gaf'ton seemed to forgo that tradition as he was taller and more muscular than any other Abh in the Empire. He was given the physical appearance and characteristics to a race that some had come to hate and fear among a space living race.

Next to him was a woman that was far shorter and lither than he. Covered from head to toe in black fabric, the only symbolance of her womanhood was the fact that her clothes hung closely to her curves. Gazing out from the slits in her cowl were two piercing violet eyes that bore into everyone on the bridge. Finally her eyes settled onto Cain.

Gaf'ton looked down to his own apprentice which the woman nodded back to his questioning glaze. That silent gesture was enough to seal the Admiral's fate. Gaf'ton turned to the rest of the prisoners and squared his shoulders up. "I want them all processed. Dornalians in one hangar while Colonials are in the other. Sargent, see to it."

"Yes, Excellency."

The Sargent gave Cain over to Captain Estas then picked up the receiver to communicate with the rest of the ship. "You are online now, Majesty."

"This is Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton of the Abh Empire. This Colonial vessel and its crew are now under control of the Abh Empire. All crew members are to stand down from their positions and will be processed. Dornalian sailors are to report to the Starboard hangar while all Colonial sailors will report to the port hangar. You have ten minutes to comply with this order after which time Imperial Marines will begin sweeping through the ship's interior killing any who have not followed my orders. After the ten minutes are up, no further calls for surrender will be heeded.

Have identifications on hand for quick processing.

The Sargent clicked off the comm line. Gaf'ton turned on his heels to face Captain Estas. "I want you to gather a few squads and begin sweeping this ship in five minutes. Kill anyone that has not complied."

Estas smiled then left after he saluted. All that remained was dealing with the bridge crew. There were very few here the Gaf'ton cared about besides Cain though later interrogations would come from Jessyka when they were off ship. "Imperial Marines, escort the crew to their respective hangars while we take the good Admiral here to a more appropriate setting."

The soldiers saluted then started barking at the crew to get moving.

"This is Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton of the Abh Empire. This Colonial vessel and its crew are now under control of the Abh Empire. All crew members are to stand down from their positions and will be processed. Dornalian sailors are to report to the Starboard hangar while all Colonial sailors will report to the port hangar. You have ten minutes to comply with this order after which time Imperial Marines will begin sweeping through the ship's interior killing any who have not followed my orders. After the ten minutes are up, no further calls for surrender will be heeded.

Have identifications on hand for quick processing.

The Sargent clicked off the comm line. Gaf'ton turned on his heels to face Captain Estas. "I want you to gather a few squads and begin sweeping this ship in five minutes. Kill anyone that has not complied."

Estas smiled then left after he saluted. All that remained was dealing with the bridge crew. There were very few here the Gaf'ton cared about besides Cain though later interrogations would come from Jessyka when they were off ship. "Imperial Marines, escort the crew to their respective hangars while we take the good Admiral here to a more appropriate setting."

The soldiers saluted then started barking at the crew to get moving.

OOC: Wasn't the best version, but the lyrics come from the song "R.A.M.O.N.E.S.," which appeared on the Hey Ho Let's Go! greatest hits album of the Ramones. It's a fast song, hence it's use.

IC:

RUN, FORREST! RUN!

--Jenny, Forrest Gump

At that call, Dornalians and Colonials alike began running like mad in a dash for life and liberty. Many had been exposed to forced marches and runs in basic training. Many Dornalians had been given intensive physical training even as youths in school, as part of their miltaristic system. But many were not prepared for this.

The Abh squads sent to ensure compliance would, reactions left up to them, witness streams of men in an organized manner marching at breakneck speeds, dashing to freedom. It was going to be hard going, considering the Isis was not a small ship. It was in fact rather large, with little of the amenities of the Dornalian Mao Zedong vessels of similar size in terms of personnel logistics. As such, it would hurt like hell for many Dornalians and Colonials.

Along the way, the Colonials could be heard chanting a tune of theirs to keep up. Old Drill chants. The Dornalians replied with their own chant, an old song:

New York City
N.Y.C
Pretty mean when it wants to be
Black leather, knee-hole pants
can't play no high-school dance
Fuzz tone
hear 'em go
hear 'em on the radio
Misfits
Twilight Zone
R, A, M, O, N, E, S
R, A, M, O, N, E, S
RAMONES!
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKrwvr0dbec)

The Colonials, who heard the shouts from across the Isis, completed the songs appropriately, and lyrics would be traded. All this as they marched to their ordered hangars for processing, and not out of joy--but to keep their minds off of the apocalypse that would happen if they didn't make it.

As Townshend ran to the hangar, Aminta had siezed the opportunity to run alongside him. Townshend quipped, "Helluva run, eh?"

Aminta replied with, "Yeah."

Eventually, they did make it to their designated hangars and all the men, tired as hell, assembled into their lines, muscle cramps and all, holding out IDs for inspection.

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

Cain, meanwhile said nothing at Jessyka's presence and the Sergeant's mocking voice. She only gave her a catatonic, disbelieving look that said, "I thought we were done with you." Then, her mind began running again....

-------

The Furiesaresurrounding me. Theymockmeandtauntmewithhospitality....thehospitalityofdeath..........I see their comander. In black. She looks at me with judgment. She looks at me in the guise ofsomeoneIthought..........wegot...rid...of....alongtimeago. The issue was done....evidently.....the...Furieshavedonemeonebetter.

They want to judge me. They want to execute their responsibilities of vengance. It's approrpos, i suppose, since the Furies are the beings that represent human emotion and vengance. Breathe, Helena. Don't look like a pussy in front of htem.

Show no fear--oh what's the use! I'm scared as hell! Why is this happeningtome! I wasjusttryingtodefendmypeoplefromyoumiserablefrakers.....

LEAVE ME THE FRAK ALONE! OH LORDS!

Gaf'ton and Jessyka marched through the Isis with their prize in tow. A number of marines escorted them through the many corridors of the massive ship until they returned to the hangar bay where the calicke was parked. There was no sense in remaining on board now that Cain was in their possession. It was always possible that someone would become desperate and try to break through the marine barriers and try to destroy the ship.

Everything was secured while two marines boarded the craft to keep an eye on Cain for the Imperial Admiral and his escort. The shuttle lifted off and was gone forever from the Isis. The pilot guided the ship back to the Driaron where Gaf'ton could put Cain in one of the ship's holding cells until they reached their destination.

In the mean time, Imperial Marines swept through the halls of the Isis shoving people to their hangar or shooting any that had not met the time limit. Once all personnel were properly handled and in their respective positions, the Marines sealed off the area and kept the crew herded in their cages. Then came the wait which seemed to drag on for eternity.

When boredom and leg cramps began settling in, a beep from the helmet of one of the Marines in each hangar shook them from their stupor. A holographic window pain flashed to life, big enough for all to see. Filling the window was the one eyed Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton.

"A great tragedy was carried out not too long ago by some of your hands. None are more guilty than others in this crime but the order for such an atrocity came from the lips of Admiral Cain. Under such orders, a citizen of the Abh Empire was brutally mistreated during her stay with you.

Many years ago, before your grandparents' grandparents had ever been conceived, a law was put into place under the guidance of Emperor Douknaa. That unwritten law brought into creation a means of protecting our citizens as they traveled the stars and encountered other races. It was also a means to punish those that failed to observe proper hospitality to our race. In so doing, Abh Hell was created to punish the would be tormentors, murderers, and rapers.

It is under the Wrath of Emperor Douknaa that Admiral Cain has been detained by our forces with the only suitable course of punishment is being given to Abh Hell. The rest of you shall be questioned in due time. Any of her accomplices or those that willingly participated in acts of barbarism will be brought in alongside her. During these trials, you will be housed in a prisoner of war internment camp until you can be released to your respective governments."

The screen flashed out and the marines wasted no time in barking out orders for the crew to form groups of fifty with their identification to be ready. A list was being compiled just as the first groups of calicke docked with the ship to load passengers.

"Fuck off! Fuck off my fucking stage!"

--Pete Townshend, speaking to Abbie Hoffman before ejecting him forcefully from Woodstock, 1969

At those words, the Dornalians grew hideiously angry at the Colonials on the Isis. So that was the cause of all this? Some Colonial assholes couldn't keep their dumbsticks in and did that!? A growing sense of frustration began to emerge, as Townshend wished he could get his hands on the Colonials and kill those pervs himself. He had a good feeling whom they were referring to, as the Dornalian women kept complaining about the same people to him during the time before all this.

Almost on cue, the Dornalians began shouting angrily, mostly the women.

One of his female officers even said, "Their ass is grass!"

Another said, "Those SHITS! Kill them all!"

Aminta, in the meantime, said to one of the guards, "Hey guard! I gots the name, rank and serial of one of those rapists! He tried to grab my ass and sweettalked me, asking me if I wanted catnip!"

It was plainly obvious that were it not for the holding cells, the entirety of the women in the Dornalian Contingent would have personally give every Colonial male they could in the other hangar some face time with Sweet Lady Fist. The men were no less angry, although more of a confused angry.

Townshend tried to calm them down, shouting, "Guys, keep it down! We're angry, but we're civilized people! Now shut it!"

To that, some cessation of the cries came out, but they still kept angrily coming.

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

As for the Colonials, a desperate attempt to prove it was just a few wrongheaded individuals broke out, which degenerated into a verbal witch hunt. The women in the Colonial hangars eventually out of fear began offering up names, rank and serial number of any and all male personnel who even made a single wrong look at them, saying, "There's your rapist!"

Eckert then shouted, "SHUT THE FRAK UP! ONE AT A TIME!"

Thus, the noise quieted, but then the voices continued, now with more anger and conviction behind them. Fingers were pointed, and angry confessionals began pouring out almost in defiance of procedure.

"Lieutenant Nichols is the one you want! Little shit boasts about his dick all the time, and makes lewd advances, macho as hell as the Dornies say! I wouldn't be surprised if he did rape somebody!"

"Captain Donovan's a bastard! Groped me, groped the Dornie catgirls twice......"

"I could do less with Sergeant-at-Arms O'Hierlihy! That man even looks like a rapist! Acts like one, talks to women like one...real creep!"

"But O'Hierlihy's dead! We killed him!"

"Then grab his second and put him in his place. His second probably got to go next, knowing that pervert!"

"YEAH!"

And so on and so forth, names were rattled out, a fairly consistent list with those named by the Dornalians when they would be interrogated soon enough.

Everything proceeded as was hoped for. Now each side was pitted against one another with the Dornalians pointing fingers at the Colonials and the Colonials pointing fingers at one another. Once the innocent crew members were released, word would spread back through the Colonies and New Dornalia about what had happened and the cause of such a matter. Given time, the rumor could fester and cause mistrust amongst one another.

With the lifespan of the Abh and there constant patience, the makings of a fruitful war could bud within the next decade or so. It never took humans long to lash out in retaliation when their emotions guided them. Unfortunately for anyone that came knocking, no one had seen the Abh in battle for many years and the face of Star Forces had changed since those days fighting the Galactic Empire and constantly saving the Coredians for certain death.

Now matters were different as prisoners were being loaded onto shuttles. Marines did their best to act like they were taking down the names of the accused but the Dornalians would be freed after a brief stay in the camps. It was well known that not a single Dornalian served aboard a Colonial vessel at that time so there was no reason to interrogate any of them as of this moment. It was the Colonials that the Abh were truly after.

Calickes continued to depart the Isis and leave the system for some station far outside any known system which could only be reached through plane space since there was no hyperspace gate to the area. At least the Colonials would get the pleasure of experience travel through Plane Space for the first time and probably the last.

Imperial Gaf'ton watched as the last shuttles left the ship and exited the D'Haran System. Soon, all signs of battle would be erased as the last of floating hunks of ships, bodies, and missile casings would be disposed of. There was little left to do now but tally the dead and tow the Colonial ship elsewhere.

The Abriel walked up to the bridge of the massive flagship where he found Admiral Wakapale looking over a few reports. "Admiral, have a tow team take the Colonial vessel to the Delmaav System."

The woman looked up from her glass datapad then quickly saluted. "Already on their way your Majesty."

Gaf'ton turned to stare through the holographic screen and saw a trio of heavy tugs grapple onto the Isis. He smiled approvingly. "Very well. Take through the Hyperspace Gate and let us be on our way. Return control of this system's operations back to Admiral Spoor."

"Yes, your Excellency."

The flagship of the Home Guard fleet and its four escorts began sailing back through the Sord that they had entered from while the Isis was being carted away to some system that no onlooker could determine. The Abh left with both prizes in silence, slinking back to whatever depth they had come from.

OOC: Assumes Colonials and Dornalians are on mixed shuttles. If not, I can fix accordingly.

Also, poem is "Fuzzy Wuzzy" by Rudyard Kipling.

IC:

The Dornalian and Colonial prisoners were now aboard the varied shuttles, sitting whilst they awaited their fates with uncertainty. The women of the Dornalian and Colonial sides had eagerly given out names, and the men eventually had as well, disgusted at the conduct of the men that had done such a thing.

Sitting with a nervous look in general, Aminta and Townshend sat down and waited. That was all there was to do, frankly.

Aminta, however, pulled out a pen and a piece of paper that was worn and dirty, having been folded up and used as a note to remind her to pick up some "swipe" from a Colonial she knew. She had passed on the knowledge of how to make the hallowed bootleg rum from another woman, and opted to teach an enterprising Engineering techie who saved her life from one of the Rapists how to make it. It wasn't the usual Dornie stationery, but that damned backasswards Colonial stationery with the corners cut off. She then began scribbling in halting, overly formal Baronh, darting glances to ensure she wasn't caught.


"Dear Ceilia--

If you recieve this, Benny, I am alright. I aided in the capture of Admiral Cain, since I was on Ship Exchange aboard the Isis. The Colonials and Dornalians angry at her behavior decided to fight against her tyranny and I was one of them. Tell your superiors to be more gracious to us. We helped them to stop Admiral Cain, after all. And by the way, our good friend Lynn is fine. Alas, she is a mere Lander soldier though--based on some faraway fort in Xanthal.

Your Honorable Servant,

Aminta Jacinta-chibi
Master Chief Petty Officer
New Dornalian People's Navy
Long Beach Polytechnic High School Class of XX"

As she did that, Lieutenant Gordon, one of the Colonials, began to speak. Moved by the boredom and the sorrow of being taken into captivity, he put his hand over his heart and began to speak. His breath staggered owing to the emotion, he earned the looks of the others as he recited an old poem, taught to him by a Dornalian officer.


"We've fought with many men acrost the seas,
An' some of 'em was brave an' some was not.
The Paythan an' the Zulu an' Burmese;
But the Fuzzy was the finest o' the lot.
We never got a ha'porth's change of 'im:
'E squatted in the scrub an' 'ocked our 'orses,
'E cut our sentries up at Suakim,
An' 'e played the cat an' banjo with our forces.
So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan;
You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man;
We gives you your certificate, an' if you want it signed
We'll come an' 'ave a romp with you whenever you're inclined."

He then looked around, and before long, Corporal Theron, another Colonial, did the same, replying with,

"We took our chanst among the Kyber 'ills,
The Boers knocked us silly at a mile,"

Another man got up and added as Theron faltered,

"The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills,
An' a Zulu impi dished us up in style:"

Before long, men from all the survivors on Aminta's shuttle began to speak lines. The pilot and the guards watching the prisoners would find in time it was an impromptu poetry recital, with lines traded amongst all the men, if only to keep their minds off of the fact they were being sent to a POW Camp.


"But all we ever got from such as they
Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller;

We 'eld our bloomin' own, the papers say,
But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us 'oller.

Then 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' the missis and the kid;

Our orders was to break you, an' of course we went an' did.

We sloshed you with Martinis, an' it wasn't 'ardly fair;

But for all the odds agin' you, Fuzzy-Wuz you broke the square.

'E 'asn't got no papers of 'is own,
'E 'asn't got no medals nor rewards,

So we must certify the skill 'e's shown
In usin' of 'is long two-'anded swords:

When 'e's 'oppin' in an' out among the bush
With 'is coffin-'eaded shield an' shovel-spear,

An 'appy day with Fuzzy on the rush
Will last an 'ealthy Tommy for a year.

The men then joined in one final round, with tears in their eyes as they traded lines, the words finally hitting home.

So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' your friends which are no more,

If we 'adn't lost some messmates we would 'elp you to deplore;

But give an' take's the gospel, an' we'll call the bargain fair,

For if you 'ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square!

'E rushes at the smoke when we let drive,
An', before we know, 'e's 'ackin' at our 'ead;

'E's all 'ot sand an' ginger when alive,
An' 'e's generally shammin' when 'e's dead.

'E's a daisy, 'e's a ducky, 'e's a lamb!
'E's a injia-rubber idiot on the spree,

'E's the on'y thing that doesn't give a damn
For a Regiment o' British Infantree!"

The Dornalians couldn't help but be moved as well, even if they didn't participate as much as the Colonials did. And everyone left the experience a lot more edified, saddened, uneasy and hopeful.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HWXbVilJf3c

Rumors and speculations are always rampant in times of turmoil, and chaos. In such times, men are made into heroes, and heroes into gods. Such times cause even the meek to rise up, and become one of the brave and the strong. It was such a time for the Twelve Colonies of Kobol.

For nearly twenty four hours, the Admiral of the Fleet, Helena Cain, had gone missing. Her ship, with over seven thousand of the Colonies and Dornies finest disappeared into thin air. Seven thousand men and women, each born of the thirteen colonies, each divided by birth and customs, but joined by the color of the flag, and the uniform, each with loved ones back home vanished into the night.

For the last twenty four hours, the Colonial Government had tried to keep it a secret, but like all secrets, there were leaks. The Quorum had been harassing Picon to find out what the truth was. The Media was relentless, as a starving dog nips at the heels of it’s owner for a bite of food, so to happened to the Colonial Head Quarters.

Admiral Nagata continued to look onward, in the war room of Picon Fleet Headquarters. The wall was illuminated with star maps, one of the twelve Colonies and her territories, and the other side of the panel, was that of the Dornie Territory. The map was outlined in red, meaning the search had turned up empty.

Admiral Nagata reached up, and rubbed his eyes. It had been a long time since he slept, as he watched another red section appear over Nova Louisiana. “Frak.” he said as he looked up at the clock. T - 00:00:01:32. “What is left?” he asked as he put down his cup of tea.

“Sir.” one woman, in Colonial green said. Her hair was brown, and pulled back into a pony tail, one ear was on one phone, and both of her hands were typing on the key board as fast as they possibly could. “We have searched every inch of space within the United Colonies. The Isis is gone sir.” she said solemnly.

He shook his head, “You mean to tell me that a Warstar, just vanished without leaving any damn trace of where it went.” he said, growing much more agitated. Cain was not an idiot, she never would have just taken off without notifying Picon Command. No it was not in her character. And she was not foolish enough to attempt a blind jump, no, Admiral Nagata knew that she had to have gone somewhere. But where.

He reached down and took another sip of his earl grey. “Begin to form Raptor parties.” he ordered, as he looked at the red map of space. “I do not care if you have to commission every raptor, stealth star, and Viper in the fleet. Begin to search outside Colonial space. No matter how remote. I want the Isis found.” he ordered.

“Jim.” a man said walking up in a Colonial Admiral’s uniform. “What in the hell do you think you are doing?” he asked Admiral Nagata. “I want to find the Isis as much as you do, but think about what you are ordering.” he said in a much clearer tone of voice. “Ordering all of our assets to begin to search outside space. Do you really want to leave us that vulnerable? Have you considered this could be a first stage to an invasion of the Twelve Colonies.”

Admiral Nagata’s face turned red as the man began to call into consideration his objectivity. “How dare you.” he fumed as he got closer to the younger man in the Admiral’s uniform. “I am doing everything in my power to find out what happened not only to the head of the government, the lives of our sons and daughters, but billions of cubits in colonial hard ware. It is within my authority to orde....”

“No it is not.” the man cut off Nagata, as he pointed his hand to the clock. “Regulations dictate, that Cain has been missing for over twenty four hours. Her position and rank now go to her successor.” The Admiral stated.

“I know regulations.” he said as he turned his attention to the clock. “But I am not willing to just hand over the Colonial Fleet to Earth.” he said sharply. “What in the hell has those arrogant shits done to prove themselves to us. They would probably side with the cylons over us.” he snapped.

“You do not have a choice.” The younger Admiral stated, ignoring Nagata’s anti-Dornie rant. “Cain choose him, and respected him. Unless you want to retire right here and now, you will follow her orders. Contact the Big Gun, and prepare to go over to swear in De Bruyn. I will notify the Quorum and the Press.”

Nagata put down his cup and stared at the younger Admiral in the face. “You know, that I am right. This is going to begin the biggest shit storm to hit the colonies since the Adar Administration.”

The younger Admiral nodded, “We do not have a choice.” With that the man turned and walked out of the war room.

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

Across the United Colonies of Kobol, the television screens began to flash, interrupting the daily broadcast of what ever show that was being watched.

Every channel, began to bear the seal of the United Colonies, the Sun with the thirteen rays that extended from it. Then the image faded, as the young Admiral walked on the stage. The room was full of press people, each with a PDA, or note pad, or some sort of microphone. In the back ground stood a flag, one for each of the thirteen Colonies, and in the center, the new United Colonial flag.

The man walked up to it, his back was straight, his boots polished. The man was the very image of an officer, as he placed his hands on the Podium. “I know there has been a lot of speculation and concern floating around out there, about as to the exact nature of the Fleets actions within the last twenty four hours. I am here to address that now.” he said to the public. Several reporters shot their hands up. With a wave of his hand he dismissed them all.

“Twenty four hours ago, we lost contact with BSG-501, the Warstar Isis. As many of you know, this ship is the Colonial Flag ship, that was the base of operations for the Supreme Commander of the Thirteen Colonies of Kobol. We have made every effort to locate the Warstar Isis, but as of now no signs have turned up. As of this moment, in accordance to regulations, I have no choice but to remove Helena Cain from command of the United Colonial Fleet.” he said in a monotone voice.

The room began to erupt with Questions, as the man leaned closer to the microphone. “Settle down.” he said into the microphone. “Picon had just sent a delegation to swear in Admiral Cain’s successor Admiral De Bruyn of the Colony of Earth, as the Supreme Commander of the Thirteen Colonies fleet. As of this moment, Picon is placing the military on high alert, and will continue to search for our missing boys and girls. That is all”

As he left the podium, another explosion of voices erupted. No questions were answered, as the man left the stage.

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

Big Gun:

A Raptor jumped near the location of the Dornie flag ship. “This is Raptor 473, Picon Fleet Headquarters, requesting to dock with the Big Gun.”

Big Gun:

A Raptor jumped near the location of the Dornie flag ship. “This is Raptor 473, Picon Fleet Headquarters, requesting to dock with the Big Gun.”

OOC: Parts of De Bruyn's speech was inspired by Thucydides History of the Pelopennesian War.

IC:

"There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full."

--Henry Kissinger

Big Gun

The entire crew began murmuring, wondering what was occurring. Something had happened, and the fact that those watching the civvie transmissions had picked up the news didn't do much to ease people's comforts. Onboard the vessel, Colonial officers became quite concerned, and the Dornalians wondered, "What now?"

Well, that was to be answered soon. De Bruyn, with a look that wasn't surprised at this result, replied to the hail by saying, "Raptor 473, you may dock." He then turned and left the bridge, followed by Lyndie, who asked him, "You're going to take the oath?"

"What else is there, Lyndie? It's obvious that Admiral Cain has not returned in a day, and procedure dictates that I, being her second, be sworn in as her replacement. That's all there must be to it." Christiaan replied, as he arrived in the hangar bay. He saluted the bridge crew as they stood up to salute, and said, "At ease," awaiting the Raptor.

When it came, he quickly greeted the representative, who quickly, with cameras and a copy of the Scrolls of Pythia in book form. Lyndie frowned at the presence of the pagan book, but Christiaan shushed her with a harsh look, and she kept her peace. However, he asked for her copy of the Afrikaans Bible, and she duly provided. He then quickly swore the oath prepared on said document:

"I Christaan De Bruyn, do hereby swear my faith and my loyality as Admiral of the Fleet of the United Colonies Fleet."

The ceremony complete, the men left, and he returned to the bridge, ordering Lyndie, "Lyndie, prepare an all call to civilian and military networks. I will make a speech.".

-------

Joint Revolutionary Command and Control Center, San Diego, Earth SSR

The news hit JRCCC like a ton of bricks, and MacIntyre left his home in Monterey Park to visit the JRCCC to get a personal update as the War Room went berserk, with people chattering and battle computers flipping out as people scrambled to keep up with the news. If Picon was concerned, San Diego was confused. As such, MacIntyre walked into the War Room and said, "The fuck is going on?"

Commissar of National Defense Cortes replied, "Hate to interrupt your private reflection time, Maccy, but the Twelve Colonies has gone berserk. Their main lady, Admiral Cain, is officially AWOL, they've just broadcasted it all over the news. We're getting calls from crazies as far away as Kalamazoo and New Transvaal reporting Cain sightings, and some of my staff wanna get the Naval Home Guard and Border Patrol on alert again." He then whispered, "Nevermind that shit in Nova Louisiana recently, with those Gaian rebels."

MacIntyre waved and said, "I know. People are going berserk. Driving in LA was even worse than usual today--and people kept asking me what I had to say about Cain's disappearance, even though I'm in my damn car."

He then said, "Now, let's get to business. First, you send additional protection to the Colonies. Deploy People's Navy--"

His phone began to ring and MacIntyre picked it up, answering. It was Kung.

"This is Eileen Kung from Caprica. Something--"

"Good day to you, Ms. Kung. Yes, I know shit is going down. People here are going nuts." MacIntyre said irritatingly.

Kung, unfazed, replied, "Well, Mr. MacIntyre--people here are in a state of panic. I'm seeing people making runs on gun stores, runs on groceries, runs on banks, runs on everything. They want to know what's going on, and what we in Earth will do about it. I've been asked that six times already by my staff. So far, all I can tell them is that Admiral De Bruyn will be in charg--"

MacIntyre replied, "Hold on, Ms. Kung." Frantically, he asked Cortes, "What's our availables look like?"

Cortes said, "Two battlegroups in New Leningrad."

He then returned to Kung and said, "Right. Tell Admiral De Bruyn I'm attaching two battlegroups as part of his contingent fresh from New Leningrad. I'll get up on the wire and make a speech to calm people the fuck down. You work your magic in that Goddamn Quorum and make sure those fuckers don't blow their load early! I don't want people doing anything rash that's gonna get us fucked. Is that clear?"

Kung replied, "Yes."

At that, one of the JRCCC techs said, "Sir! It's De Bruyn....he's making a transmission!"

MacIntyre turned to the screen in the War Room, which now showed the interior of the Big Gun. Standing in front of the Flag of the United Colonies, its Sun And Stripes, he began to speak in his South African accent to all of the Colonies, Earth included.

"Ladies and Gentlemen--

As you have been just informed, Admiral Cain has just gone missing. We are looking for her, but as of now, I am officially in command.

As the new de facto commander of the United Colonies of Kobol, I would like to say that I am committed to preserving the territorial integrity and the national soverignity of our polity. Though my time alloted for speaking is brief now, I will say this much.

My fellow Colonials, it is time that we forsake the gratiuitous hatreds and awful horrors of old. Though I will be as strident in defending the Colonial Cosmopolis as my predecessor, I seek to do so with the consideration that I do so in service of free men, all of whom are equal before the law and whose way of life does not make them weak. I am proud to accept the challenge that lies ahead for me.

I must now return to work, where I will commence my duties in earnest. Good night, and good luck."

He then ended the transmission, and then MacIntyre replied, "Meh. Send him his new ships."

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

Admiral De Bruyn then, not but five minutes after he ended his speech, got a transmission from the Comrade Premier.

"Nice Speech, Supreme Admiral."

"It's Admiral of the Fleet now, Comrade Premier," De Bruyn said in reply. "I suppose you have some business?"

"I do. It's called sending two additional battlegroups to assist you in case things happen we don't want to happen." MacIntyre said with a smile.

De Bruyn frowned and said, "Basically, an emergency reserve."

MacIntyre nodded, and added, "They'll be attached to your forces."

"Thank you. I will inform my forces of that. Send them to Caprica." He then hung up, and radioed on Colonial Fleet transmissions, saying, "All units, this is the Admiral of the Fleet. We proceed to Picon. I'm holding a Council to discuss what to do now."

In the realm of space-time (plane space) time was simply irrelevant. There was no way of knowing where or when they were in the fabric of time as the Abh traveled through the odd energy orbs as any normal person would drive their car to the grocery store. Time was irrelevant to the Abh as they floated along lazily and for one prisoner, time had simply run out. Cain was well on her way to one of the most feared stations of the Empire though no one save the Abh actually knew where it was kept.

It loomed before the flagship of the home fleet as they exited the nearby sord. No planets or stars were around and the only companion to the spiraling station was the inky blackness of space. Here is where Cain would spend the last of her moments of existence in excruciating pain that would never end. Perfecting the use of torture, the Abh knew how long they could keep her alive and inflict the maximum amount of pain.

A voice rang throughout the ship, a voice that signaled the end for Helena Cain. "Prepare prisoner for transport."

The prison doors were opened and a pair of armed guards hoisted Cain up by the arms and dragged her to the outbound shuttle. Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton though would not be leaving to oversee the eventual execution. There was still the matter of an Empire to oversee and to prepare a message for a few delegates that might be interested in learning what has happened to a few of their citizens.

The Abriel turned to the woman standing beside him. "Go to the POW station and select any Colonial that was aboard the Ares at the time of your imprisonment and bring them here for justice."

Twilight bowed her head and left just as Cain was thrust into a shuttle to be delivered to the hands of her tormentors. The thought of the countless screams that would echo throughout the metal halls of that station almost brought a smile to the sullen expression on Jessyka's face.

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

As the shuttles landed at the POW stations, Dornalians and Colonials were immediately separated and processed. From an observer's perspective it would become plainly obvious that the Dornalians were going to receive better treatment. Their quarters were far more comfortable as they were reserved for those of higher rank.

There was also the matter of the courtyard that the Dornalians could use for exercise and entertainment while the number of Abh guards was considerably lighter. The Colonials on the other hand received sections of the station usually reserved for the worst offenders of war. Rooms were over assigned leaving one Colonial sleeping on the floor though it was left to the others exactly who got the bed. There was no time for recess or entertainment though the numerous Abh guards were more than happy to give them exercise with a forced march through the station.

Regardless of the situation, neither Dornalian or Colonial was allowed to intermingle or know of the others predicament. For the Colonials, at least they were still alive. That was, until a strange black ship docked with the station bearing a strange resemblance to Kython technology and an old Interceptor model that was piloted by a Sith long ago.

As the shuttles landed at the POW stations, Dornalians and Colonials were immediately separated and processed. From an observer's perspective it would become plainly obvious that the Dornalians were going to receive better treatment. Their quarters were far more comfortable as they were reserved for those of higher rank.

There was also the matter of the courtyard that the Dornalians could use for exercise and entertainment while the number of Abh guards was considerably lighter. The Colonials on the other hand received sections of the station usually reserved for the worst offenders of war. Rooms were over assigned leaving one Colonial sleeping on the floor though it was left to the others exactly who got the bed. There was no time for recess or entertainment though the numerous Abh guards were more than happy to give them exercise with a forced march through the station.

Regardless of the situation, neither Dornalian or Colonial was allowed to intermingle or know of the others predicament. For the Colonials, at least they were still alive. That was, until a strange black ship docked with the station bearing a strange resemblance to Kython technology and an old Interceptor model that was piloted by a Sith long ago.


"I am not interested in a long life. I am not afraid of these things. I don't mind if my life goes in the service of this nation. If I die today, every drop of my blood will invigorate the nation."

--Indira Gandhi

The Dornalians got settled in, eagerly complying with the instructions of the management. They didn't know where they were or why they were being interned, but then again, the leader of the Dornalians that had gone onto the ill-fate Isis exchange, Townshend, said simply to a group as he was leading game of basketball, "Don't worry guys. They're after the Colonials. But, Law of war says though we're technically neutral in whatever little spat they've got, they still gotta hold us to make sure."

Aminta replied, dunking a shot, "No kidding."

"But, on the other hand, it means they gotta treat us with at least human standards of care, right?" another man said.

Townshend nodded. "Ya think?" was his reply. "I mean, it's kinda obvious. They coulda treated us worse. Think about what the Colonials are getting."

One of the other crew, named Louis, said, "No kidding. And it looked like the Colonials...well, the Abh weren't happy to see them, let's put it that way."

Townshend replied, "You got that right. I wouldn't be surprised if they put them in the worst areas, just to prove a point."

Aminta snickered and said, "What'd they do to you in prison, Lou? Make you the belle of the ball?"

Louis said, frowning, "No. They tried, but I kicked their asses." He then caught the ball and made a shot that missed.

Aminta then had an idea. She walked to one of the guards and asked, "Hey, guard. When's mail call? I need to send a letter out to an Abriel Ceilia."

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

The Colonials, meanwhile, sat in their slumlike arrangements, playing thumb war, telling crude jokes, or just doing something to pass the time. Being placed in lockdown and not let out made a lot of them antsy, and it was fortunate that they didn't have any guns.

The prisoner next to Eckert said, "I wonder how the Dornies are doing."

"Probably getting real food. Lucky sumbitches. You saw how those blueboys treated them? Compared to us, they put them in a Godsdamn five-star hotel before they seperated us." another said.

"You sure? I only caught a quick glimpse--hell, none of us got a good glimpse. For all we know, they could be cooped up in ratcages like these too!"

Eckert said, "That's enough. One more word out of any of you and I'll use my fists. We may be stuck in here, but we are going to get out. We're not going to give up, we're not going to let them break us down, and we're not going to turn on our Dornalian brothers and sisters for getting better treatment. They're our comrades. And who the frak knows if they are getting better treatment? A jail is still a jail. And I'll be damned if any of you turn yellow on me or our brothers. Is that clear!?"

The others sighed and said, "Yes, ma'am."

Eckert then said, "Relay that to the others using Morse. We're not gonna turn into animals on my watch."

The Abriel turned to the woman standing beside him. "Go to the POW station and select any Colonial that was aboard the Ares at the time of your imprisonment and bring them here for justice."

Twilight bowed her head and left just as Cain was thrust into a shuttle to be delivered to the hands of her tormentors. The thought of the countless screams that would echo throughout the metal halls of that station almost brought a smile to the sullen expression on Jessyka's face.

Cain arrived, and escorted by the black figure, entered the Colonial section and began fingering men one by one, merely saying, "Him, him, her, him" and so on, silently in a defeated manner. Altogether, about 300 individuals were snapped up, and led to join Cain on her march to Abh Hell. The men and women chosen sighed, knowing what was to come.

OOC: this is something I forgot to put in my last post. Need to talk to either ND or OG to figure out the next post. More like how much detail is necessary.

IC:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OGnAzkh9kn0

As the rest of the Colonial culprits were rounded up by Twilight and shipped off to their designated location where they would receive similar treatment as the doomed admiral, Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton had a couple of messages to prepare. They would be practically similar in appearance but they were going to two different destinations.

Gaf'ton reclined easily aboard the Driaron as he penned his revelations to the Dornalians.

A heinous crime has been committed against the Abh Empire. For some time now we have been pondering how to go about exacting our revenge and bringing the criminals to justice. It would seem that the stars smiled on us this day as the criminals were delivered to our very doorstep.

Admiral Cain and her ship invaded the System of D'Hara at which a battle ensued. Abh lives were lost in the battle but the Isis was disabled. Imperial Marines boarded the ship moments later and managed to capture the bridge. Admiral Cain was removed from the ship to stand for her charges against the Abh while the surviving crew was shipped to a prisoner of war camp. Dornalian citizens will be released to you once arrangements can be made.

The Colonials will remain a while longer as the rest of the criminals are still being weeded out from the innocents. Once justice has been served, they will be returned to their respective provinces.

As one problem is resolved, another presents itself. This latest act of aggression can be seen as nothing more than an invasion on the Colonial part. Further encroachment by renegade Colonial forces will be met with swift destruction. As we only recognize the true Colonial government backed by Admiral Adama and the president he protects, the rest of the Colonial military will have to be brought down until he can safely return and their rightful president assumes power.

A message simply in courtesy for an ally.
Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton of the Abh Empire

Pleased with its wording and purpose, Gaf'ton sent a copy to Earth and also to Caprica so that the Dornalian representative would also be aware of the situation. It was rude, after all, to leave friends aloof of what was occurring around them.

OOC: Just some filler until I can speak to Abh.

IC:


"I don’t know why you use a fancy French word like détente when there’s a good English phrase for it — cold war."

--Golda Meir

As MacIntyre was coordinating his business in the JRCCC, his PDA vibrated. He opened it up to reveal a message from the Abh Empire, sent over via express diplomatic pouch from the Empire itself, and a copy from Kung in Caprica, who said the Quorum was abuzz with activity in closed session.

Unlike the Coredians, they preferred to do their business direct, instead of through their embassy in orbit around Los Angeles. Maccy loved that about them.

When MacIntyre read this, he said, "Oh dear." Poking Cortes, he said, "Jack, you better read this. And get Carla in here, NOW."

Half An Hour Later

The members duly assembled in a meeting room locked and guarded with Marines and white noise generators, Carla asked, "What's wrong?"

Robert MacIntyre replied, "I got a message from Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton of the Abh Empire. It seems that the reason our man is now in power in Caprica is because of something stupid his predecessor did. Read this."

He passed the message to Carla, who promptly said, "Wow. This isn't good. And they sent a copy to Caprica?"

Cortes said, "That's what it seems like."

MacIntyre said, angrily, "You're right, Carla. I can tell right away, that when Caprica gets this, they're gonna go apeshit. Okay? It's kinda obvious our little buddies down there in the Quorum ain't too keen on the Abh and Coredians--they like the Abh only slightly better, thanks to some shenanigans that we don't know or don't care about. They get this message, Caprica's gonna say its a lie and rogue elements will try to shoot our friends in Lakfakalle. Problem being, our buddies in Lakfakalle are more well armed than them, and have more disiciplined and better forces than them."

Cortes nodded and said, "No shit. I wouldn't trust those Colonial Battlestars to sink a Spanish galleon."

Carla said, waving her hands, "Guys, focus. This is no time to panic. Now, what do we do?"

MacIntyre said, "Kung got a copy, she mentioned as such--and evidently, so did her new friends. So, we use her to get everyone to serious the fuck up and stop shooting. And, our man is there in command now. Don't forget, he hasn't officially renounced his Supreme Admiral's commission. I can tell him to shit in the woods, and he'd have to obey. So we tell him to get the Fleet to serious the fuck up too. He was tapped by Cain as her second, so he must be akin to God and Muhammad and Moses to those people right now."

Cortes said, "Right. What about those people who won't serious the fuck up?"

MacIntyre replied, "Then we use those Mao Zedong Mark IVs for what they were made for, and use our Goddamn pimp hand to get these people in line. I think they've dicked around for long enough, on our dime too."

Carla nodded and said, "Well, I am inclined to be skeptical of the wording of the message. De Bruyn and Picon Command did report their man went missing. Evidence enough to contest the Imperial Admiral's assessment. Although I can see his POV, given the bad blood between the two."

MacIntyre nodded and said, "Right. That's our Carla, always able to see both sides of the situation. Right. Get out there and make a speech--do what you do best. You've got empathy, and I think what we all need is a little empathy."

Carla raised an eyebrow and replied jokingly, "I thought you were about pimp hands?"

Maccy smiled and replied, "I'm a pragmatist, Carla. You should know that by now."

The furies had a far greater scheme, than one lonely Admiral. Helena Cain, the leader of the Colonies, born by the great betrayal of her sister Lucy, to the cylons long ago and who had ascended to the highest ranks of the Military, through force and fear. No, one soul was not good enough for them. They worked their magic, and descended their cruel hand towards her home, and her planets alone. The furies were not satisfied with her, they wanted all of them.

The Quorum was far from the normal orderly parliamentary body that it usually represents. Papers were thrown everywhere as aids who normally would not be allowed into such meetings hurried about, scurrying like ants, carrying their documents to their corresponding representatives from each colony.

“Great.” Representative Hester of Gemininon said as she read the recent report that her aid handed her. “The Market has just dropped another 400 points.” she exclaimed, as she turned towards the governing body of civilian matters.

“We need to shut it the frak down and now.” A tall dark skinned man representing Canceron said as he stood up and threw down their papers in frustration.

Representative Baltar then shook his head. ‘No, if we shut down the markets now, it would give a clear sign to all of our constituents that we are in a much worse situation then we are in. We need...” he said before being cut off...

“Gaius.” Tom Zarek spoke up, “How much worse can we get? Riots are beginning to develop in Paris, Virgon, here at Caprica City, and in Polis Scorpia. We just lost the head of the military to some unforseen consequence, and ....” he paused for a moment as an aid walked up next to him and whispered in his ear.

“Thank you.” he said to his aid, as he put his hands to his temples clearly frustrated. “It would seem that in Paris, the Military has just engaged the rioters. Seems at least three hundred are dead”

“Ladies and Gentlemen.” Zarek spoke out. “It seems that our time has finally come. We need to try to exert influence over the fleet, using the resources at our command to bring the military back into it’s place as the protectors of the Colonies, not the lords of it.

“That is treason.” Representative Samuel Jenkins, of Libris said shaking his head.

“No.” Zarek said in response with an agitated quick smile. “This government was founded by the people, for the people. At least that is the way it used to work. We need to do all we can to take advantage of this situation while we have the chance.”

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

When Chaos comes, it leaves nothing in it’s wake. Chaos breeds Confusion, and confusion brings destruction. It is a terrible thing to not know friend from foe.

In Orbit of Caprica.
The Battlestar Solaris

The crew was nearly exhausted, as the toll of the last twenty four hours wrecked havoc amongst the crew. Pilots were sent out, flying around the clock, only landing for a quick refuel, and dose of stims. Since the order came in to stand at high alert, no one got any sleep, no one had a moment’s reprieve, as every available pilot was sent out.

The darkness revealed nothing, as the edgy crew expected the worse. Draidus flickered back and forth, showing only the civilian and military contacts, in their bright green illumination.

A young woman, who wore the Colonial khakis BDU, began to rub her eyes. She had been staring at the same blinking screen for twenty four hours now, and no relief seeemed to be in sight. Was Picon’s order needed? Was the disappearance of Cain really a prelude to an attack? At the moment, she didn’t know or care, all she wanted was rack time.

The woman began to blink, as she leaned back with a steady yawn. “Frak.” she murmered to herself, as she shook her head quickly trying to stay awake.

As she stretched her muscles, pulling them tight, an alarm began to ring. Her eyes opened widely, as she saw what looked to be about over one hundred ships appear on Draidus. “Holy Frak.” she yelled out.

The commander of the ship turned to her. His glared at her sudden and unprofessional outburst as he folded his arms. “Got something to say specialist?” he asked her with a monotone voice.

“Sir...” she nearly stuttered. “Multiple Draidus Contacts, bearing 010 Carum 167. There are no scheduled jumps into Caprican space.” she yelled out.

He turned to the draidus screen above the planning table. Over a hundred vessels... marked unknown with red circles above them. “Launch the alert vipers, and set action stations.” he ordered. “Order the fleet to deploy.” he yelled out.

Action Stations, Action stations. Set Condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill. Action stations, Action stations, set condition one throughout the ship this is not a drill. All available pilots report to your planes for immediate launch. I repeat this is not a drill.”

Soon the ship’s exterior along with the rest of the Caprican fleet came to life, as the gun mounts unsheathed themselves, and fixed on their new targets. The rail cannons, spun around, as they began to point themselves in the general direction of the oncoming fleet, as the vipers launched forth from the tubes, engines going, towards the unknown target.

“Fleet reports full combat readiness commander.” another enlisted man stated.

“Sir, we have a firing solution on the vessels.”

The commander nodded, “Bring the main batteries to bear on the lead ship. Interchange EMP, with Salvo and Ta’Nar munitions. When they get in effective range...”

“Sir... We are getting IDC’s from the vessels, they are Dornie.”

The Commander turned to her, his face surprised, and as he looked up to his own screen. Sure enough as they spoke, the unknown circle began to report the Dornie ships name and codes. “Authenticate.” he ordered. “It is unlike the Dornies to just show up unannounced.”

This is the Battlestar Solaris, Flag ship of the Caprican Defense Fleet, to the Fleet claiming to be from the thirteenth colony. Hold position and send authentication codes to verify identity, or you will be fired upon. We repeat: This is the Battlestar Solaris, Flag ship of the Caprican Defense Fleet, to the Fleet claiming to be from the thirteenth colony. Hold position and send authentication codes to verify identity, or you will be fired upon.

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

Picon
United Colonial Fleet Headquarters

As De Bruyn approached the planet escorted by most of his and the Colonial ships, the world on Picon seemed to be settling down. Unlike Caprica, Virgon, or Libris, Picon ordered a complete military lock down as soon as they broke the news of Cain. Rioters tried to slash and burn, as they were met with a hail of bullets and grenades. Before anything could be touched on this planet, it was ended. The illusion of peace and strength would be maintained, even if it was at gun point.

The war room didn’t show any signs of slowing down, as the Admirals and Generals, left the room. The curse that seemed to be descending down to the colonies, had struck there the hardest, as the reports came in, of Colonial Vessels coming damn near a shooting match with other colonies. Communications seemed to have been broken down, as each battlestar seemed to becoming more independent. Added with the news of several major civilian vs. Military battles that occurred, and it all added up to one logical conclusion. The Furies didn’t want Cain. They wanted the Twelve Colonies, and now they had them in their claws.

As the Admiral sat and began to deliberate one of the aids came rushing in. He wore the look of a dead man, his skin was pale as he barged in the door, running right past the two guards. “I know where Cain is.” he yelled, waving a piece of paper violently in the air.

“Where is she?” one of the Admirals asked as he walked over to him. “Well son, speak up.” he ordered. The man nodded as he handed the Admiral the piece of paper. On it was an intercepted communication from the Abh Empire.

A heinous crime has been committed against the Abh Empire. For some time now we have been pondering how to go about exacting our revenge and bringing the criminals to justice. It would seem that the stars smiled on us this day as the criminals were delivered to our very doorstep.

Admiral Cain and her ship invaded the System of D'Hara at which a battle ensued. Abh lives were lost in the battle but the Isis was disabled. Imperial Marines boarded the ship moments later and managed to capture the bridge. Admiral Cain was removed from the ship to stand for her charges against the Abh while the surviving crew was shipped to a prisoner of war camp. Dornalian citizens will be released to you once arrangements can be made.

The Colonials will remain a while longer as the rest of the criminals are still being weeded out from the innocents. Once justice has been served, they will be returned to their respective provinces.

As one problem is resolved, another presents itself. This latest act of aggression can be seen as nothing more than an invasion on the Colonial part. Further encroachment by renegade Colonial forces will be met with swift destruction. As we only recognize the true Colonial government backed by Admiral Adama and the president he protects, the rest of the Colonial military will have to be brought down until he can safely return and their rightful president assumes power.

A message simply in courtesy for an ally.
Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton of the Abh Empire

The Admiral read the paper, as his hands shook. His face became as red as fire, as he shook for a moment. “Alright.” he yelled. “The Abh have the Isis. They claim that we invaded them, and they have taken Admiral Cain, and our boys prisoner.”

“What in the hell.” one of the Admirals asked. “I thought they were our allies?”

“You know as well as I do, that the only difference between an enemy and an ally, is your enemy is honest about his intentions. We need to get all the intel we have on the Abh Empire. If they want to take Colonials as prisoner of war, then let there be a war. Use our agents in the reminant if you have to. I want to know where they are, what they do. I want to know when they shit and eat. If they think we invaded them, then lets show them what a real invasion is."

The room erupted in unison, “So say we all.”

The lead Admiral then turned to the courier. “Inform the Quorum, that they will be voting in favor of a declaration of war against the Abh Empire. Take this letter, and a contingent of marines. Make damn sure it happens. You will not take no for an answer, you got that?”

The man saluted. ‘Sir, yes sir.”

"This is no social crisis
This is you having fun
No crisis
Getting burned by the sun
This is true
This is no social crisis
Just another tricky day for you"

--The Who, "Another Tricky Day"


Orbit of Caprica

The Dornalian contingents promptly held position and sent their ID codes, and a message from Comrade Premier MacIntyre himself. Prerecorded, it showed the Comrade Premier as irritated, resolute, and unwilling to brook any interference.

"This is Comrade Premier MacIntyre, from the Workers State of New Dornalia. You might know us better as Earth. If you're getting this, this means that our ships have arrived. These Dornalian vessels are meant as reinforcements for the Admiral of the Fleet De Bruyn. They are not to be fired upon in any way, shape or form, or treated as hostiles. If you have any questions, speak to Commodore Gordon, the commander of these two battlegroups. Thank you."

Onboard the flagship, the Heatseeker, Commodore Gordon said, "Inform Ms. Kung and Admiral De Bruyn of our arrival."

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

Quorum Hall, Caprica

Kung's aides-de-camp ran about, trying to fix things up as she got the message that the Dornalian battlegroups had arrived in orbit.

“Ladies and Gentlemen.” Zarek spoke out. “It seems that our time has finally come. We need to try to exert influence over the fleet, using the resources at our command to bring the military back into it’s place as the protectors of the Colonies, not the lords of it.

“That is treason.” Representative Samuel Jenkins, of Libris said shaking his head.

“No.” Zarek said in response with an agitated quick smile. “This government was founded by the people, for the people. At least that is the way it used to work. We need to do all we can to take advantage of this situation while we have the chance.”

"A noble sentiment," Kung said. "However, I'm sure De Bruyn is no tyrant. Knowing a fellow Earthling, and a man of his temprament, he is no tyrant." She said the words as if to reassure herself. Already, she was burdened by the mandate to get everybody to calm down and she then shouted, wagging her finger as her New England accent added an air of dignity to her voice, "Anyway people, before we do anything rash, let's focus and be pragmatic. PLEASE! We are professionals here, and no amount of worry or scurry will fix the crisis!"

Kung then said, "I say we close the Stock Exchange and declare a bank holiday to prevent total economic collapse. But do so with a message from us saying that we do this out of necessity, and for God's sake, assure the Colonial people that they will be alright. I don't care what you think, they need to be reassured!"

She then finished her rant/speech with a last word.

"And will somebody tell De Bruyn that his new charges are shooting their own? I trust he will stop it, but he's gotta know!"

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

Picon

De Bruyn and his aide-de-camp Vice Admiral Lyndie Uys, accompanied by several others, filed into the meeting room inside Picon Command. Uys looked at the men and women with suspicion, and De Bruyn sat down only when all came in, as did Lyndie, only after she turned on a few white noise generators she placed and a few Force Inhibitors.

He then said, businesslike, "Right, let's get to business. I think we all know things are moving fast, and if we don't fix the situation we're going to lose our Colonies. So, what do we have in terms of resources?"

The head of the Caprican Defense Fleet, Admiral MacGowan, replied, "Most of the Colonial Fleet's collective assets, excluding your People's Navy, are concentrated in Scorpia--it's the Home of the Fleet. Individually, I think the biggest element in the Colonial Fleet, excluding yours, is possibly the Tauronese due to its advanced capabilities, or Picon, due to its strong naval traditions and infrastructure, or Caprica out of sheer wealth."

De Bruyn nodded and said, "What of numbers?"

"Likewise, Tauron or Picon. Altogether, we don't have much collectively. About a few hundred battlestars, versus the thousands of ships you guys in the Thirteenth have. I suppose it's a matter of quality versus quanitity--but the fact remains." the Aeralonese commander, Admiral Reichert, said.

De Bruyn nodded and stroked his goatee, saying, "Any updates on the situation?"

The Picon commander, Admiral Venizelos, said, "Yes. We got a transmission from the Abh. They're blaming us for Cain's disappearance, mainly because they claim she entered their territory as part of an incursion and they've got her and trashed the Isis."

At that, the whole group threw fits, especially the Tauronese commander, Admiral Metaxas. He could visibly be heard saying, "Those blue n*ggers! They'll pay!" De Bruyn noted the irony of a Tauronese using an Earthly racial slur; though in his view it made sense considering Abh to most Dornalian strategists and thinkers were lumped in with humans owing to similar biology.

Lyndie then whipped out her revolver, bringing the discussion to a halt rather forcefully as she screamed, "ENOUGH!" and wagged it threateningly at all concerned. De Bruyn then nodded and said, "Dankie, Lyndie," embarassed as he put her hand down. The elf holstered the pistol and glared at all concerned, cracking her knuckles.

De Bruyn then turned to the crowd and said, "Clearly, that assessment is a lie. We know she entered by accident, no more no less."

Venizelos replied, "You sure? She just up and disappeared! Those blue n*ggers could have taken her!"

Gemenon's Commander, Admiral McCoy, replied, "No. Records indicate the Admiral disappeared when she tried to make a jump as part of Exercise Blue. It is an accident. The Abh won't accept that, though....."

De Bruyn then said, "That'll be enough of that. The important thing is we've established we're in the right. Now, we've also established that we've not the resources to take them on in a head to head fight."

Metaxas replied sarcastically, "Coward. You just happen to be fraking an Abh, aren't you!?"

De Bruyn replied with a stern "No. I happen to be realistic. Now, no more of that kind of language" directed at Metaxas. He then said to the rest, "For now, I recommend we hold off any aggressive action, until we cool our heads and figure out what's going on. Besides, we've extra resources committed at Caprica to defend the Colonies if anything happens. MacIntyre has ensured that."

Metaxas replied angrily, "And you wouldn't use them to fight for us?! I thought you were going to protect our polity, you little shit!"

MacGowan lept up and said, "That's uncalled for!"

Metaxas replied, "Is it? I wonder. His people are in bed with the blue n*ggers. His people have helped them before. Why should we trust them?!"

MacGowan replied, "Because he's got Cain's blessing, man! Back off him! Your whore-Admiral endorsed him, so he's good!"

At that, another round of shouts and angry accusations flew. Lyndie whipped out her revolver and said in her South African accent, "ENOUGH! Can't you uitlanders keep your cocks in your pants! There's a emergency on, and all you shits can do is circlejerk, fornicate each other and angrily kill one another as the world burns! Don't you have any care!?"

She then walked over to Metaxas, to MacGowan, to McCoy and the other Colonials, as she turned on the full force of her Bible-thumping fury.

"I dunno what you believe, but I think this has to end. This spiritual, moral, idiotic corruption must end! I think it's time I drilled some sense into you uitlanders. When Jesus saw the moneychangers infesting his temple, he chased them out, shouting 'Stop making my father's house a marketplace!' Truly I tell you, I intend for you to stop selling the Colonies out for your Jealousies! It is time for this to bloody end!"

The other Colonials stopped in awe of this woman's rant. Partly out of fear, and partly out of understanding, they murmured, but in understanding. MacGowan said, "I suppose you're right, little lady. It's not gonna be that simple, though."

Metaxas said, "He's right. I'm leaving this farce. Go frak yourselves. The Quorum might have more sense than you animals. Enjoy being fraked by your blue n*gger friends." He then left the room.

MacGowan and the others then turned to De Bruyn, who asked, "Anybody else?"

The others looked at one another. On the one hand, they had little reason to trust one another. On the other hand, De Bruyn and his crazy assistant had a point. If they didn't get their act together, they'd all be dead by the end of the week. Turning back to De Bruyn, MacGowan said, "We're staying. I think it's time we did get our shit together."

McCoy replied, "I agree. I may not like these fellows but I suppose I'd rather die by their hands than by the hands of the Abh, who didn't fuck me over like the Coredians."

The others nodded in assent, whereupon De Bruyn then said, "Good. I'm glad we still have cohesion. Now, then. What do we do now?"

Venizelos said, "I'd go to Caprica if I were you. Metaxas might try to sway the Quorum, and I know I sent a message to them already with a Marine contingent."

De Bruyn sighed; he never liked Politicians and their boastful ways. Given the right excuses, they'd be able to spin any info they had into an excuse for war. And this Metaxas looked like someone who would agitate them into a useless fight, if nothing else. So, he then got up and said, "Right. I will go to Caprica. In the meantime, I am issuing an order declaring Martial Law to contain the disorder, broadcast it on the airwaves. Instruct your Marine contingents to use the Minimum Force Necessary to carry out their orders. I've heard rumors that some have gone trigger happy, we don't need that. Also, instruct all Fleet contingents not to act without explicit orders from the Admiral of the Fleet, broadcast that on open channels. And can someone recall that shuttle? Understood?"

The men nodded, and De Bruyn left. As he did so, he turned to Lyndie and said, "You didn't have to go that far."

Lyndie then wagged her finger and said, "I know you uitlanders well. You respond best to a woman with big breasts and naked force on her side. Such depraved creatures you are."

"Charming," was De Bruyn's only response, delivered with humor and a smile.

Thus, the orders were issued...

Through the proceeding one man in the back stood silent, as the Admirals jocked for power and struggled with their own self ideals. One man, said nothing, as he listened to De Bruyn trying to assert himself, over those in the fleet, those whom had proven themselves a multitude of times against not only the Cylons, but others in the various skirmishes and battles that had been waged against the Twelve Colonies of Kobol.

“Admiral De Bruyn.” he finally cited, before he left the room. “May I make a suggestion sir?” he asked quite politely. His hands to his waist side, the Admiral took a few steps closer to the fanatical Lyndie, and her much cooler head of a superior De Bruyn.

“I like everyone in this room am fully aware of Earth’s relationship to the Abh. I know this must be a stressful time for you, as you should be torn between your obligations to country, and to allies. But I have to disagree with your assessment sir. If the Isis, was in fact a Earth Ship, carrying your president MacIntryre, and if it happened to be captured by the Empire, who happen to be our allies, would you not be preparing for war? If it was the Big Gun that was attacked, and then Courescant gave us a lie as to their involvement, would you meerly sit back and say, we should wait it out, or would you want to do everything you can to get your sons and your daughters back?” he asked the man playing on empathy.

“Now, I know as well does everyone in this room, that the Abh and Earth have some sort of Bond. And to be honest sir, many here are getting the feeling that bond is stronger than of the nation. If you do nothing, if we sit back and hope against all hope that the Abh will not attack, then that one man will not be the only one to walk out of the room. It will breed hate and hostility, and soon we will be plunged into civil war.”

“I am also aware than in an up front war, even with Earth’s unconditional support, that in the long run, the Abh Empire and it’s military machine would roll over us, in a bloody and costly war to both sides. I am like you Admiral, I do not wish to see people die in a needless war, but what greater need is there than when the head of your nation is taken prisoner, and you have been betrayed by your own allies. Dornies were on the Isis, your sons and daughters, just like ours. We were attacked and betrayed by an ally once again. Something needs to be done.”

“Now most of my collegues here would disagree with what I am about to tell you.” he paused as several Admirals began to glare at him. ‘But Cain was never a foolish woman. You are the Admiral of the Fleet, and I support your decisions, but since the Reminant left, we have had agents inside their fleets. I will not name any names right now, but at least three of the Reminant Battlestars are still loyal to you now sir. I say that we fight an unconventional war, one that will bloody the Abh nose before they have a chance to retaliate. I have an plan and although it is a huge gamble, as best estimates mean it would take the entire Colonial fleet, we can and are in a position to take out their resources on their planets, their giant space station, and most of their planetary supplies and industry in the first stroke of the battle. I believe that we can take out 40-70% of their infrastructure and super structure within the first five hours of the war, severely limiting their ability to retaliate.”

“Although the majority of their Armed Services would remain intact, it would not be long before they suffered the defeat of Morale, and eventually hunger would begin, and fuel would run low."

"If you wish Admiral, I will have the plan drawn up, and on your desk for approval. After all, something has to be done. We do not want to give the galaxy the idea that New Dornalia will allow attacks against it's ships, and her leaders stolen, without a whimper back, do we?"

"I you wish Admiral, I will have the plan drawn up, and on your desk for approval. After all, something has to be done. We do not want to give the galaxy the idea that New Dornalia will allow attacks against it's ships, and her leaders stolen, without a whimper back, do we?"

OOC: Parts written by OG.

IC:

Sal: Okay, let me try to put this in perspective. You've killed a bunch of cops. Word around is that you've got a lot of heavy connections downtown. You make a lot of my friends nervous. A lot of people... would love to see a guy like me... put a guy like you out of business.
Clarence Boddicker: I don't know. I don't know. Maybe I'm just not making myself clear. I don't want to fuck with you, Sal. But I got the connections. I got the sales organization. I got the muscle to shove enough of this factory so far up your stupid wop ass that you'll shit snow for a year.
Sal: Frankie, blow this cocksucker's head off.
[both Clarence's and Sal's henchmen draw their guns]
Clarence Boddicker: Oooh. Guns, guns, guns. C'mon, Sal. The Tigers are playing...
[slaps the table]
Clarence Boddicker: tonight. I never miss a game.
Sal: [grinning] Just kidding.
[signals his henchmen to put their guns away]

--Paul Verhoeven, Robocop

De Bruyn turned around, and before Lyndie drew her revolver, De Bruyn stayed her hand with a simple, "No, Lyndie." De Bruyn then stopped him and spoke to the man, saying, "I think I need address this point, Admiral."

Looking at the Colonial man's buttons, he recognized the pips as identifying him from the Virgonese contingents. Known for being levelheaded individuals, he decided to play to that using the same verbal judo he had used upon politicians before.

"So let me get this straight. You have proposed to me that the Colonial Remnant be used to get our boys and girls back. You have also inadvertedly accused me of cowardice, and of forsaking my obligations to the Colonial People. Perhaps I should clarify myself before we do anything rash. I don't just intend to lie there and let them roll over us, no, if they choose to do that. But I also don't want to do anything stupid. Friends do stupid things, especially if they aren't as level headed as you. Maybe I should bring you in there and clarify this matter in front of the Council of War."

Leading the man back into the room proper, De Bruyn sat down and said to the assembled, "Your colleague here from Virgon has raised an excellent point. I will admit these orders seem cowardly, and fraught with sympathy for the Abh, as Mr. Metaxas from Tauron said. Your man from Virgon also proposed a plan to utilize sympathetic elements in the Remnant to pursue some kind of course against them."

He then said, "I will not do anything of the sort. I do not see the tactical or strategic value of such a plan. It would only endanger the Colonial Remnant as a whole. They are rebels yes, and estranged bretheren, but they are bretheren and I am unwilling to sell out our cousins for a mess of potage which won't even last a week. The Abh easily destroyed the Isis. They would easily destroy the Remnant. So it makes no sense to involve them."

De Bruyn leaned in and said, firmly, "I would instead pursue a course of diplomatic action. We are still technically allies. That means we are friends, officially. Friends don't shoot one another, they work things out using their voices and their minds and their reason. I will have the Quorum appoint an appropriate representative to speak for us to secure the release of our people and end this charade, without giving too much ground on our end.

"Admiral," Nagata spoke up, "I do not thin you understand the gravity of the situation. This is not a blockade, or a diplomatic crisis sir." he said respectfully, "but instead it is an act of war. The Abh have fired on a United Colonial Vessel. They have already used bullets. What good does a voice do against a gun? Like Admiral Santinelli said, something has to be done. We can not be a pacifist in this situation. We were attacked. All thirteen colonies. Now does your friend and ally shoot you often? Is that the real nature of alliances in this galaxy, for people to shoot you, and get away with it?" To hammer his point home, Nagata finished with, "Would you really cite the same actions if this was the Big Gun, with MacIntryre on board, sir?"

To that, De Bruyn hardened his gaze, and said, looking at Nagata, said, "Yes. But this is not MacIntyre, and this is not the Big Gun. Whilst I understand your point of view, let me communicate mine."

He then addressed Nagata and Santinelli, and by extension the remaining group, thusly. Remaining calm, he spoke in a tone of calm, yet forceful strength, with lots of undertones of irritation and fury at these men, who didn't seem to see reason.

"To me, this is a misunderstanding of disastrous proportions. No act of war, no act of deceit, an act of violence yes, but one done out of a grave mistake! People. Make. Mistakes. And the Abh, being sentients, are capable of making mistakes.

I know the Abh better than any of you in this room. You see thugs, rich thugs, spoilt brats, men and women eager for glory at our expense. I see a professional armed force, and a civilization that, although very much different from our own, is a competent, cultured one. I should know, I led a fighter group on campaign during some wars against their enemies in the Anti-Yevonese Wars and in the wars against the dictatorship in the United Mankind.

Now, you followed Cain. You would follow her to the death. And to be honest, I have nothing but respect for her and her professionalism--I didn't like her methods, and I wished she respected people's rights, but I'll be damned if she wasn't a professional who knew how to get things done!

Well, my fellow officers...she didn't just pick my name out of a damn hat.

Admiral Cain picked me because she knew that I was a professional officer and a soldier who would do his damn job. Cain trusted me, and indeed, her trust was validated. Didn't I help bring the shenanigans at Melida/Daan to an end when one of my subordinates went rogue, shot Admiral Hallen? She trusted me in that regard, and I carried through. So if anybody here thinks of me as a sellout, they're bloody wrong. If I was, I would have shelled Caprica long ago, instead of helping Cain to get people back in order at Melida/Daan.

Now, I may be wrong, and if I'm wrong, I will make the appropriate war plans. But, for now, I ask you for your support in bringing us back from the Abyss, and into the future. I promised the Colonies that I'd bring them into a better era. Well, by God, by the Lords--let's do that. Let's not have history remember us as a clique of selfish warlords! Let's have history remember us as men who remembered our responsibilities to our people, and got our act together as professionals, and who got something constructive DONE!"

The Admirals looked at one another, and nodded in assent, now more forcefully than usual and with greater conviction. MacGowan only muttered, "Helluva speech" with some appreciation.

Nagata leaned forward and then said to De Bruyn, "Well, I hope our faith isn't misplaced. So Admiral, what are your orders?"

Admiral De Bruyn said, "Same as before. Issue an open declaration of martial law, issue orders to the Marines under your commands not to use undue force in containing civil disorder and to use only the minimal force possible, and issue an open order for all Colonial vessels to not move unless I say so. Understood?"

OOC: Post coming soon for Cain's demise. Sorry for being lax on this lately.

Screams of pain and terror filled the metallic halls of the floating station as its occupants were exposed to the brutality of science. There was no food, water, or rest. There was only the constant pain and the bright lights. Tubes flowed into the victims' arms as they provided the necessary nutrition to keep the prisoners alive for as long as possible. Simply refusing to eat and starving one self was not so easy a feat that the Abh would over look.

Over the days that soon lost meaning to the doomed souls, their cries for their loved ones, their God, or simple protests soon turned into incoherent babble as their bodies were broken again and again. Amidst all of the screams and shouts, none were louder than Cain's as all the fury of the Abh and every sadistic punishment that had ever been conjured was put into disciplining the Colonial Admiral.

Hoses were unraveled after each session to wash the blood down the drains built into the floors. The process continued for many days as they stretched into weeks. Events of the Isis's destruction was played over and over again before Cain's eyes which were held back and her head locked into place so that she could not look away. The faces of her dead crew members fluttered onto the holographic screen followed by more of the explosions from her once proud ship.

The mind could only take so much as Cain's predicament seemed eternal with no notable change in time. It was one of the advantages of having such a station since humans needed to see the moon, the sun, and the stars to know that soon something might come their way to alleviate their pain or simply to mark another day of survival. For Cain and the others, there was no such comfort as their torture continued and more of their minds were consumed until soon they were little more than puppets on a string for the amusement of the Abh.

Little remained of the Colonials as electric burns marred their bodies, appendages had been removed, and there were even cases of organs pulled from their bodies and left for the prisoner to see. Any onlooker unfamiliar with Abh Hell would have become sick at the sight and wondered how it was humanly possible to keep someone alive in such a degenerated state. It would not last forever though. They would all indeed die though their deaths would be just as painful as the torture. Still, by their gruesome looks, none of the humans could truly be considered living.

As each one was dispatched and put into a crematory, their heads were severed and placed in an embalming agent that would preserve their last looks of pain and torture for all time. The severed heads of the despised were placed in all gallery among all the others that had come before them and suffered a similar fate. Names were inscribed below their glass cases along with the crimes they were guilty for and ultimately died for. Cain's head was up there to join the rest of the heads that represented absolute evil in other societies. She would now rest among all eternity with her peers in the tomb of the damned.

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

"I want to know everything there is to know about the ship. Find the source of whatever it is that drains these supernatural powers. Perhaps we can get them to work for us. Anything and everything that can help us destroy these Colonials quicker."

The Abh officer on the other end of the glass screen saluted Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton. "Yes your majesty, it shall be done. Majesty, once we are finished dissecting the vessel what would you like us to do with it?"

"Blow it up, drive it into a sun, or send it into a black hole for all I care. Just get rid of the ship when you are finished."

Gaf'ton clicked the PDA off as he entered the halls in Lakfakallae that lead to the Jade Throne. Another image flashed on the glass screen, this time an Abh woman. "Admiral Wakapale, how are you?"

"Just fine majesty. How can I be of service?"

The Abriel pushed a few buttons to send information to the woman's ship. "I want you to begin working on a defense strategy in the event that the Colonials attempt to attack us once more. Put the emphasis on Vobayrunay, Febdauch, and our agriculture worlds. Have the rapid response fleets in Hyperspace awaiting our orders should we detect any incursions in our space. Coordinate with my Chief of Staff for the most effective Colonial targets."

Admiral Wakapale gave the Abriel a quick salute. "Right away Admiral. I shall have a strategy form when you next contact me."

Gaf'ton flashed a rare smile at the woman then clicked off his PDA just as he entered the throne room. Emperor Debeusec was not there but that was to be expected. Often a guest would have to wait for days before the Emperor would even bother to grace them with his presence. Gaf'ton had anticipated on such, especially since Debeusec was not very fond of Gaf'ton, and had asked to see the Emperor last week.

About a day ago, he had also sent for Admiral Adama from the Colonial Remnant fleet. His shuttle should have arrived by now by the judging the time it would take to deliver the message and have Adama transported here.

"Your highness, Admiral Adama of the Colonials has arrived."

Gaf'ton nodded. "Very well. Show him in."

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

One of the guards walked over to Amnita when she called out. He slung his rifle then studied the Dornalian woman. "Just as long you understand that your package will be inspected for anything potentially harmful or dangerous. Once it passes all inspections, it will be sent on to its destination."

One of the guards walked over to Amnita when she called out. He slung his rifle then studied the Dornalian woman. "Just as long you understand that your package will be inspected for anything potentially harmful or dangerous. Once it passes all inspections, it will be sent on to its destination."

Aminta looked around, and then passed the note to the guard. She said as she did so, "Okay. This note goes to one Ceilia Abriel. Okay? It don't got no explosive, no chemicals, nothin'. I wouldn't sneak none in here even if I wanted to."

The water flowed gently, and steadily down the wall into the trench of flashing red and yellow. The lights changed back and forth, interchanging seemingly at random. Only two hands, inside the trench broke the light, as around their palms, the submerged panels were green.

A young asain looking woman turned towards the others, her other six companions, as the warm water ran over her hand. Her eyes flickered back and forth, as her mind raced back to a time when things were better.

She could remember it all clearly, the A shaped hull, the white light, the smell of humans as she walked down the hall with them, amongst them, thinking she was in fact one of them. Her betrayal was unknown, no one would have guessed that she blew the water tanks, no one knew her deadly mission. She walked with her hands behind her back, as she walked towards the CIC. She remembered it all too clearly, no matter how hard she fought against the memory... it was her curse.

Her friends, her family smiled as they saw her walk by, slapping her on the back, congratulating her on a job well done. She alone destroyed the base ship, she alone did the impossible, she alone killed hundreds of her own model.

As she walked onto the CIC, she remembered his face, the face of a man she loved, the older man who was like a father to her. She remembered pulling out her pistol, and aiming into his chest. She knew the feeling of pulling the trigger, the smell of gunpowder still haunted her to this day. She watched him fall, by her hand. It was her fault...

“We are picking up a transmission.” Boomer said as she opened her eyes to the other models, as she tried to hide her secret shame.

“And...” Dianna, one of the threes asked, her face as stern and serious as a marble statue, and her voice thick with a Southern Caprican accent.

“It would appear that the Abh have killed Cain.” Boomer said as she glanced down at the panel. “They are claiming that Cain jumped alone to D’Hara, and attacked their planet.”

The young blond woman in the background rose her hand to her chin. “God has given us a great thing today.” she said as she looked at the group. Every model was looking at her, staring at her blankly into her empty body. “Think about it.” D'Anna spoke up, “The Twelve Colonies will be in disarray, they will want to strike back at the Abh. It is the human way after all. When they do, we can take our forces and finish what we started.”

“Wiping out the human race?” Doral, a five answered her as the man in a flashy orange suit said.

The blond cylon nodded, “Yes.”

Leoban shook his head in disagreement, “No.” he said sternly, as he turned to the group. “The Twelve Colonies are not the big worry here. There is now another, Earth.” the two spoke to the group. “We need to make a strike against them, we have their AI, we have their access to their defenses, and unlike the Colonies, they do not believe us to be a threat. If Earth falls, the Colonies will be soon behind them.”

“Wise plan.” Simon responded.

Leoban began to open his mouth, but was soon silenced, as Cavil interjected. “Brothers and sisters.” he said as he wove his hands around in a circle mimicking a preaching motion. “You all are forgetting one thing, the nature of the beast.” he said in his usual condescending attitude. “The colonies are in turmoil, and they will seek revenge, but if we strike right now, it will unite them again, against us.”

“What would you have us do Cavil?” Boomer said as she glared at him.

“Patience. After all this is why I am the one gifted with intelligence. Humanity is a flawed creation. Without conflict, they will tear themselves apart. All we need to do is wait, and when they tear themselves apart, come in and sweep up the ashes....”

“Should we inform the thirteenth?” one of the Sixes asked.

Cavil shook his head, “No reason for that. She is having fun with her new toys. When the time is right, we can inform Imperius.”

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

Warstar Ares
Under the Command of Admiral Metaxas

“Sir.” one of the junior officers shouted, “We have draidus contact it is the raptor sent by Picon. They appear to be doubling back.” the Lt. said.

“That blue loving traitorous bastard.” Metaxas said as he looked up at the Raptor turning an about face. “Alright boys.” he said as he looked to the CIC. “It is obvious, that Earth has sold us out. Earth has no intention of defending the Colonies, and is willing to let their pointy ear devil friends walk all over us.”

The eyes of the CIC stared at the Admiral as he looked towards his crew. The Admiral looked down at the phone, staring at it for a moment, contemplating his next move. What should he do? What would Cain do? Foreigners have taken over the Colonies, exerting their defiling influence over the Military, and over the Quorum.

Internally a war waged, as his loyalty to his fellow humans tore asunder his loyalty to the nation he spent his life defending. He remembered Cain, a few years ago, such a young brash Admiral, who in a single decisive move, took on the President, the Coredians, and the Empire, and emerged Victorious. Here and now, he faced a similar fate. His soul felt inspired by the young Admiral’s bold moves, her ability to command and lead, and hold the fractured Colonies together long before the polluted influence of the Thirteenth dared to join their sisters in the stars. As he gritted his teeth, only one thing came to mind.... What Cain would do.

“Set Course for Caprica.” Metaxas ordered the helm, as he picked up the phone.

The speakers crackled to life, as the voice of their Admiral spoke to each of them. Their spirit, their courage was never questioned, but he had to know where they stood.

“This is the Admiral. I know many of you have heard the rumors, and I regretfully have to tell you now that they are all true. The Abh, have attacked and destroyed the Warstar Isis, in a cowardly act of aggression against the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. Even more disturbingly, we have discovered that the Dornies, the thirteenth Colony of Kobol, has acted in accordance to this as a willing participant. Now I do not know why the thirteenth colony would sell us out to our enemies, to sell us out to those who wish our deaths. It is unthinkable to me, but now the question is what do we do now? Do we roll over, and let the Dornies take control of our Colonies? Do we allow aliens to rip us apart as the Coredians did. Do we allow the Dornies, to allow aliens to try to intimidate us as the Empire tried. That would be easy wouldn’t it. To pretend none of this happened, while a Judas lays amongst us.”

“Who hear remembers, Helena Cain? A Tauron, like us. She stood defiant against the Empire and was victorious. She stood defiant against the Masaki’s, and though they attacked us in a cowardly manner\. Our Colonies survived and is now holding his wife in prison. We stood up against the excrement of the Hyperbolians, and we were victorious. We even had the tenacity to survive against the cylons who not once, not twice but three times brought apocalypse and holocaust to our Colonies. And here now, we have to defend out nation, and our way of life. Let it be known that one Colony, one, stood up when the others cowarded in fear. And when the war is won, and the blood of our enemies runs over the fields, it will not be a victory for Caprica. It will not be a victory for Picon, and it will not be a victory for Earth. It will be Tauron. Let us remember Cain this day, and follow in her footsteps. We follow her to war.”

He gently hung up the coms and turned to his XO. “Contact our rep in the Quorum. Inform him to begin a declaration of war against the Abh, and if the motion fails we are to leave the union. Tell him I will not take no for an answer. And inform the rest of Tauron fleet to begin preparations to attack the Abh at all costs. Any one who is not loyal to this mission, should just vanish, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

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

Twelve hours ago
The Battlestar Galactica

Admiral Adama stood in front of the mirror in his cabin. His chest was bare as he was getting dressed. Down his chest was a long scar, and two sunken impressions from the gunshot wound long ago, that nearly took his life. He stared at it, one of a million close calls, one of a million where he nearly perished as he touched the scar with his index finger and ran it down his chest. Such betrayal, at the hands of someone he loved, one of his own crew, who turned out to be a frakkin toaster. Anger grew in his heart as he thought about her, as he reached for the naval gray uniform of old, before the unification, before the rule of Cain.

Before his exile, when the Colonies were truly free.

He reached down and began to button his jacket. It was old like him, the pips still bearing the original uniform of the Twelve Colonies, before the Dornies joined them, before the fateful day when Galactica by chance of fate avoided the guns of her own fleet.

A creaking noise echoed through his cabin, as the old man turned toward the door. A tall man, bald walked in, wearing an eye patch over his right eye. “Saul.” Adama spoke as a smile creased the old man’s face. “You hear to talk me out of this?”

“Bill.” the harsh raspy voice of his XO spoke up, “You know this is damn foolish. You are walking into the lion’s den.”

Adama turned back towards the mirror, as he reached for the sash that would adorn his chest. “If they wanted to harm us, they would not send a shuttle. They know where we are.”

“Still Bill, I do not like the idea. They are sending a shuttle for you alone. If they wanted to talk to you, why the frak not ask us to jump to Lakfakallae.”

“You worry too much, you old bastard.” The Admiral said in jest to his XO.

“I still do not like this. How do you know it is not a trap?”

“I do not, that is what trust is, you old drunk, or have you forgotten that.”

Present time,

Admiral Adama walked into the Emperor of the Humankind Abh’s throne room. His medals were polished as he wore the old uniform of a Colonial officer. Adama’s hands were glasped in front of him, as the old man walked into the room of the Emperor’s throne.

“Emperor Gaf’ton.” Adama said as he looked into the eyes of the Emperor of the Humankind Empire. “I take it this is not a social call. What can I do for you, old friend?”

[Nicholas is giving a talk to a group of school children]
Nicholas Angel: Are there any questions?
[Danny is sitting at the back of a group]
Danny Butterman: Is it true that there's a point on a man's head where if you shoot it, it will blow up?

--Hot Fuzz

OOC: Thanks to OG fro some elements.

IC:

Caprica City, Caprica, United Colonies of Kobol

The Quorum was still fussing about, and, like the proverbial "point on a man's head where if you shoot it, it will blow up" something happened to make this little bunch explode even more. That was Louis Tunstall, Represenative from Tauron, and his little copy of the Letter that Made MacIntyre Freak Out.

"Ladies and gentlemen of this esteemed body. I think it's high time you saw this little missive from Ms. Kung's playmates in....Abhland." The last word was said with extreme disgust, as he passed around copies of the letter, photocopied hastily.

The reaction was instant. The other members launched into a furor, one that MacIntyre had feared would occur should the note get into the Quorum debate.

With a *thump* of his fist, Tunstall said grimly, "I think we need to issue a Declaration of War against the Abh Empire, posthaste. Mr. Zarek spoke of the need to reassert our authority. And even now, I have heard from the commander of forces on Tauron, Admiral Metaxas, that De Bruyn has abused his authority to say we shouldn't go to war with the Abh.

Well frak that. I think we need to show those poltroons who's boss!"

A murmur now.

"After all, we've got new technologies and things to make those Abhs quiver in their prissy little boots. We have DITA, we have Ta'Nar tech, we have all sorts of alphabetsoup techs that can make us the masters of space! After all, our ships, poor as they were, beat back the Galactic Empire, the Coredian Child Molesters, and the Frakkin' Toasters. All we need is men with stout hearts and the determination not to suck Abh cock!"

Adria Hester lept up and said, "I agree. Those sad excuses for people have no right to boss us around. We've been bossed around long enough by swindlers, Coredian, Abh, Imperial, or Earthling." At that last bit, she glared at Kung.

Hester then replied by saying, "I think it's time to show them our anger!"

The other members of the quorum now rattled about, throwing in their own pro and anti-war opinions into the pot.

Gaius Baltar was about to raise his hand to still the council, angrily to demand why Tunstall had to use such language, when Tunstall said, snidely, "I'm talking here. I've the floor, Mr. Baltar. Lemme speak."

Gaius rolled his eyes and said, "Very well," none too pleased. The Quorum stilled, Tunstall went on.

"So, therefore, I make the motion for an immediate draft--"

Zarek then shuddered and said, "A draft? I will support no such thing. Sagitarrion--"

"--Can eat my shit! We're in a crisis point, and you wanna take it up the ass? Frak you! Shut up, and let the real Colonials protect the Colonies." Tunstall shouted at Zarek, emotions obviously running hot in his veins.

The stunned Sagitaronese said, "I see where this is going. I will vote no, if this is how you intend to debate."

Tunstall then coughed and said, "Anywho, before I was so rudely interrupted, I want to make a motion to make a declaration of War against the Humankind Empire Abh, and draft to get the men needed"--he then looked at Zarek angrily--"or whatever the frak those space n*ggers are calling themselves. All in favor?"

Baltar sighed and then held up his hand and said, "Wait, wait wait!"

Tunstall turned to him and said, "Eh?"

"You forgot a point of procedure. There's time for a rebuttal....." Baltar said, frowning at the angry Tauronese. "I mean, this is a place of democratic discussion, is it not? We have a procedure. And you follow it not by cuss words, or childish prattle, but by honest debate. We're all adults here--"

Tunstall sighed and said, "Alright. If you say so." Sighing, he said, "Fine. You may begin rebuttals. But not too long, I've business."

At that, Kung got up and coughed.

Eileen Kung now had to give the toughest speech of her life. The man from Tauron seemed intent on going to war against the Abh, and though the Council of War convened by Admiral De Bruyn had ensured the Colonial Fleet hadn't acted rashly, one of the Colonies' own had decided to lecture the Quorum on the necessity of fighting a war which, in her assessment couldn't be won. So far, Baltar and Zarek had been irritated by Tunstall's rant on war. But, now, it was up to her to channel that into something good.

"Ladies and Gentlemen here assembled, I urge you to listen to me. I recognize there is considerable anger at what the Abh have done--Mr. Tunstall has expressed this. They have despoiled Colonial property--a fine battleship--and have held a prominent leader--no, a strong leader, who guided the Twelve Sisters through rough times, and blame us all for it. You may ask, why not go to war?

I will say simply why, besides the fact Admiral De Bruyn has effectively forbidden it, and can easily provide evidence why we are innocent. But that is not important.

The Abh Empire is can be compared to the goddess Aphrodite. Beneficial, represents love--can help in a good mood; but piss her off and she can turn your world upside down! They have not made any moves since the downing of the Isis, and it would be unwise on our part to do the same, for it would merely invite the Abh Empire to commit more resources to attacking our Colonies.

Earth, Kobol, Caprica, Sagittarion, Geminon, Tauron--all your precious fleets and armies will be dead, and they will burn all your cities and planets to magma! For what? Imagine the devastation wrought by the Imperial intervention in our affairs. There was another nation that dared oppose them in this manner, deciding to make a heroic last stand instead of listening to commonsense. That nation was the United Mankind. And they were obliterated by the Abh for challenging them, thinking in their racist mentality that these descendants of men were effiminate fools who loved playacting at imperialism. No one laughed when the United Mankind died a horrid death!

That is what the Abh will do if we fight them. There will be nothing left!

Indeed, we have almost nothing compared to them. And the people of Earth, I guarantee you, will not support a mission of vengance from their Twelve Sisters. Not just because of our blood debt with the Abh. But because looking at it practically, the people of Earth would sensibly remind you that each individual Colony does not have enough weapons, and each of the Twelve Sisters combined would not have enough weapons, to oppose the Abh on their own! The Abh command hundreds of worlds and a massive military machine. You anger them, and they will keep on going. And there won't be room for guerilla war or privateering. There will be nothing left!

You might say, "Good. We have nothing to lose!" Well, no. There will be the millions of innocents to lose. Innocent men, women, and children who just want the killing to stop. They want to live sensibly, and in peace. They don't want to fight anymore. They want justice, but I have seen them. They long for an end to the cycle of misery and pain that has crippled us, laid us low, delivered the Sisters in bondage gear for the amusement of others! You do this, we will not only give them more of that, we will commit suicide in the process! There will be nothing left!

To that, you will say I am a defeatist, a miserable collaborator who deserves to die. Well, guess what? I AM NONE OF THOSE THINGS!

I am a realist. The sorry state of our Colonies and military, which is why we can't go to war with the Abh, should be our main concern, and I say let's concentrate on that. I say before we do anything stupid, we focus on helping ourselves. Why should we fight the Abh, anyway, when we still need Kythons and other nations to feed our people? Why should we be tussling with the Abh, when we have to tussle with corruption among our planetary governments, fueled by a pernicious Black Market that grows fat on the suffering of the masses!? Why aren't we making our basic industrial necessities, instead becoming the universe's biggest charity case?!

Because we've only thought of vengance, war, and hate! Abh-fighting will only expose our vulnerabilities--as it is, we are the Soft Underbelly of the Universe!

But if we stay our hand, and instead focus on Fortress Colonia, we can revitalize ourselves. We can use this moment to decide to rise to our better natures, and lift ourselves by our own bootstraps.

People, I end my speech with a quote from te Earth singer James Brown. "People, people--we've got to get over, before we get under!"'

The room lay still for a moment. Then, she coughed and continued.

Baltar then did a slow clap, and then said, smiling snidely, "All well and good Ms. Kung. Great speech, but what will Earth do? It is obvious that Earth will not stand by her commitment to those she calls Sisters. I think that's apparent to all present. So tell me Ms. Kung, Why are you so afraid of the Abh, and what are you willing to do for peace?"

To that, Eileen smiled and replied thusly. Her semi-Boston Brahmin Accent, the accent of the people of her homeworld of Luxembourgia, shone through, and gave her reply a kind of Hollywood glamour as she spoke, spellbinding all in the room.

"Why am I afraid of the Abh? Well, let me answer your question now, to ensure I am clear as crystal. It's not so much I'm afraid of them, but I'm afraid of what our poor powers can do versus their capacities.

For, does it matter if we declare war or not, Mr. Baltar? I really wonder. The way things are shaped now, Admiral De Bruyn will do what he wants, as Cain did before him. He will treat us with respect, maybe--but for all intents and purposes, he holds the power. You heard his speech. He called himself the Commander-in-Chief. Aren't we supposed to be in charge?

Indeed, we, in this little assembly now reduced to a mere shadow of its former self, do not command the People's Navy or Red Army of Earth.

We, in this little assembly, can't even order the military of our own Colonies--that Fleet or those Marines that barge into our sessions to do what they please, the ones who looked at me rather alarmedly when I first spoke here. You know what I mean, Mr. Baltar.

It's an example of the sorry state of the Colonies I was referring to in my little 'speech,' as you so dub it.

Our nation, simply put, is in bad shape. We're in no shape to fight a war because we are so weak and disorganized that we, in the Quorum, don't have the power to do what any reasonable civil government should do--exercise power over its own military.

The military would either refuse, or go gallivanting on some adventure we don't want it to but Lords help us, we can't stop it from going on because we can't back up our threats with anything but angry letters. Indeed, this is already insidiously being borne out--the military gobbling up precious resources whilst our people go hungry, and we can't even raise a whimper.

Now, what does this have to do with the question? Because this weakness applies to the Colonies as a whole. For this inability to control the military is but a symptom of a weak state, a sick state as a whole. Because since all we can do is debate and make proclamations that have little enforcable mileage with the scant resources that we have that the war machine doesn't gobble up, we're not all that powerful. Thus we, the Quorum, are left to watch as our own people go hungry, left to be nursed by the charity of others.

Now, to Mr. Baltar's other question. What will Earth do? Offer a very rewarding way out for not going to war. Earth will increase its material aid to the Colonies, its technical aid, and its economic aid to speed in the recovery of the Twelve Sisters. Things like agricultural equipment, food, industrial machinery and materials, computers that meet the current laws but are still advanced, et cetera. This aid will be distributed to all of the Colonies as part of a--"

"She's trying to buy us off, don't listen!" Tunstall screamed.

Baltar replied, "Shut it," and said to Kung, "As you were."

"Yes." Kung, not showing her annoyance, replied, "The aid will be distributed as part of an effort to get the Twelve Sisters back on their feet, and will be distributed via some sort of civilian mechanism to ensure everybody gets a goodly amount whilst keeping it strictly Colonial. Either way, it should be enough to finish what the Kythons started and the piddling amounts of foreign aid since have attempted to do. Return the United Colonies back to their former strength and then some."

Turning to Baltar, she said, smiling, "After all, Mr. Baltar, your own Colony fielded a fine ship, the Isis. However, the Warstars, the sister ships of the Isis, are but two, three in existence, each belonging to a colony. In contrast, Earth has many ships in strength like it--indeed, we have ships that surpass that strength. Why not benefit from this offer to recieve more aid, so that we can not only build new Warstars, but better Warstars, instead of the paltry few we have now that have proven capable of being broken so?"

The murmurs were now pleasanter, if not positive. Kung had a few good points. A bit strong yes, but then again the Quorum was a place where the debates one considered strong and fierce were a "Slow Tuesday" by the Quorum's standards. And, the Colonies were shitty in terms of the economy--the bounty Earth had indeed was prominently displayed in the luxuries sold in Caprica's shops--and the bootleg watches supposedly from Earth sold in Caprica City's back alleys. Many had come back from Earth with tales of how the people, though rough, were generous and rich. Persuasive enough, then.

But....some were not convinced.

Hester got up and said snidely, "Good. So you'll help us back up, like the poor little kiddies we are. I've seen Earth's badly drawn political cartoons of us, no use lying to us. You think we're kids who've stumbled our toes--nothing of the kind, we ar--"

Kung then coughed and said, "Now, now. No need to be so cross."

"See, there she goes again!"

Kung then said, "Well, how about this, Ms. Hester. As a gesture of just how much we're really willing to provide in terms of generosity...hmmm...."

Kung thought for a moment, and then blurted out, "How about this. A fully paid, fact-finding mission to Athens, Greece, to investigate the feasibility of making the Parthenon a site for Kobolist pilgrimage? The offer is open to one and all, frankly. But, we will fully fund the trip, and even open up facilities for religious use."

Hester immediately said, "Um....."

Kung replied to that, "I do this as part of a series of cultural exchanges, which was already present--I'm just building on that, as part of my general increase in aid, to show how committed we are to the Colonie--"

Hester then sternly, and quickly said, "Uh, you had me at Kobolist Pilgrimage Site. I have no further objections."

With that, Tunstall exploded, saying, "I can't believe this! She just bribed Adria Hester in front of everyone! You all saw it!"

Baltar replied, "We've had quite enough of your rantings, Mr. Tunsta--"

Tunstall replied, "She bribed you too! She bribed all of you! With those honeyed words, and those offers of aid...it's a trick! She's in the pocket of the damn bluen-"

Kung then walked over to Tunstall and said, simply staring him in the face, " I think I speak for the Quorum when I've said we've all had enough of your immature behavior. I may be a politician, a gifted speaker and a diplomat, but a liar and a crony I am not. I merely offered something for all to take in, and merely made a promise that will be kept. Now, procedure now dictates we take a vote. Now, do we vote?"

Tunstall then slapped Kung, and then left the room, pointing a finger at Kung and saying, "Go frak yourself, you rotten bitch! Eat shit! And frak all of you! If y'all don't got the stomach, Tauron does!" He then threw his shoe at her, sending the footwear nearly missing her head in a fit of rage as he stormed out.

The resulting vote was unanimous, although discussion would take a little longer. Zarek was opposed to any war, frankly, that would hurt the Colonies and hurt the little men of the Colonies, as he said, in the name of uncertain glory. Baltar was easily entrapped by the promises of aid to Caprica--new Isis types would ensure that he kept his job. And, the others got the points hook line and sinker.

The war versus the Abh, at least on the pan-Colonial civil level, would not happen. And Louis Tunstall would set in motion the plan to secede and ensure that Tauron would continue the effort--or try to.

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

OOC: Need to ask OG about this bit.

De Bruyn, upon hearing the news of the Ares contingent and Tauronese Fleet contingent movements and the Quorum debate, sighed. Metaxas was possibly going rogue, and possibly threatening the safety of all the Colonies with some sort of mad gambit in the name of national honor.

The question was: what now? If it was indeed the case that the Tauronese were moving to conduct their own rogue war with the Abh, it would be the case that he would have to stop them before the Abh intervened--or anyone else did.

Looking at the reports, he then spoke to the Colonial Fleet Admirals in a conference call.

"Well, folks. It's official. Reports indicate movement by Admiral Metaxas' men, and the brash actions of a Tauronese at the Quorum. We may have something on our hands."

"Well, what now?" MacGowan said.

"Simple. We take steps to contain Metaxas before he does damage to Scorpia, Caprica, Earth or the Abh Empire. I am for bringing a blockade into force around Tauron itself using FTLi, and for surrounding all Tauronese elements in port at Scorpia and any other Colony. We will demand a cessation of activity within 72 hours, and a statement demanding why war preparations have taken place when we have said not to have such occur--failure to comply will result in a blockade of Tauron, and internment of Tauronese personnel that resist, and the disabling of all Tauronese materiel in space used in resistance of the order."

Nagata then shook his head and said, "What of Tauronese that want to resist?"

"They can join us if they wish. That's what the 72 hours is for. However, the FTLi will be up, to prevent them from gaining assistance from foreign powers in this effort. When this is done, a message will be sent out on public channels asking for noninterference."

"I see."

De Bruyn then asked, "Any further questions?"

McCoy then asked, "Will this be done with Colonial and Dornalian forces, or just Dornalian forces?"

De Bruyn replied, "It will be done as a Unified Effort. We are Thirteen Sisters. Why should there be anything else but a United Effort to bring the Colonies back together so they may be bettered? Hence, there will be Colonial vessels at all stages and operations."

Nagata asked, "What of the Remnant? Are they in your little lovefest too?"

De Bruyn said, "Yes. That reminds me....someone send a message to the Abh telling them that we would like to speak with the Remnant, and that we do not intend to go to war with them--but there are rogue elements that disagree with that, hence we are occupied in dealing with them before they can do any damage."

"Aye, sir," was the reply.

Gaf'ton gave a quick salute when Adama entered the throne room. He smiled slightly at the misplacement of the title emperor though it was hardly offensive. "I am doing well though I am still not quite Emperor yet."

"No, I am." From the side of the room entered a tall slender Abriel dressed in long flowing robes. Setting atop his head was great golden tiara with a stunning green cat's eye sat in the middle which gave the Abh almost the appearance of a third eye in the middle of his forehead. Long blue hair fell down past his shoulders with a thick loche covering his right eye.

"No matter how much Imperial Admiral Abriel desires the title, I still hold power in this Empire until he has passed his trials and met with approval."

Emperor Debeusec took his seat in the Jade Throne which sat on a dais surrounded by water. Eight pillars rose up behind him representing the eight Abh royal families, all decorated with the insignia of the Abh Empire then by their family crests. Gaf'ton cleared his throat then turned to face Adama.

"We've called you to the palace to first make sure that your fleet is being adequately attended to. Hopefully you are receiving enough fuel, water, food, and ammunition. We also understand that you are looking for a world of your own to settle. In a universe as vast as this, such a task can be rather daunting which is why I've asked the Emperor to meet with us as well."

Debeusec's head was resting on his fist while Gaf'ton was speaking. The only sign that he had become interested in the conversation when he was mentioned was when he propped himself up with his thumb and index. "Oh? And why might that be?"

"Your Majesty, has family members that have turned once uninhabitable worlds into thriving agricultural worlds. Certainly such can be done for our Colonial friends."

The Emperor blinked once before answering with no emotion on his face. "I suppose I could have one of the nobles locate a suitable planet and begin terra-farming it for them. Judging by the amount of time it would take a suitable planet to be found, supplies gathered, and the early stages of remolding the planet; I would expect it to be completed in no less than 200 years."

While Adama's eyes might have bulged at the time span, it was nothing for an Abh to wait so many years and have the next generation in the family complete that work that was started. Gaf'ton still held firm to the idea that the Emperor was simply going at a round about way to supply a solution. "I am afraid I must remind the Emperor that our friends could use this new world in much less time. They do not have the life expectancy of an Abh."

Debeusec sighed then rose from his seat. "Very well."

Walking down the steps to the main floor, the Emperor was greeted by a series of holographic screens that seemed to swarm over him. It was unbelievable to think that he could see every screen, even those behind him, and understand all of the information at once. Eventually he came to a halt and all the screens turned to the same picture, that of a single star system, as he found the one that he wanted.

"We came across this system while exploring uncharted sords for military exercises. It is unclaimed by any nation in the universe which makes it prime realty for expanding when you do not want to be noticed. If it is claimed by some other nation, they have not come asking for it. "

The holographic screens quickly zoomed into the second planet from the sun. One screen enlarged and took on a satellite view of the world while the others began displaying information of the atmosphere, geography, and everything else needed to know about a planet. "Efforts have already been implemented to try out a new form of world building. We have returned worlds of our allies to their former stability after severe destruction from invaders which takes less than a year. This new technology will hopefully build a world from scratch in less than six months. If it works, we can begin expanding its uses further, if not then this world will take about a year to mold.

If you desire it, this world can be turned over to you and your fleet when it is finished. It will give you a place to settle and thrive once more. You will not have to worry about random attacks for now as I have already stationed war ships in the system to protect it. Defenses are already in place for when the planet is completed. All that is required is for someone to move in. Does this meet with your approval?"

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

The guard took the letter and handed it to a subordinate to run the inspections. Once it was cleared, it was passed off to be delivered.

Several hours later, a call went out for Amnita that she was report to one of the guards. Once she checked in and her identity was verified, she was lead to a room with a glass computer screen and a camera.

When Amnita sat down in the chair, the image of Ceilia flashed onto the screen.

The guard took the letter and handed it to a subordinate to run the inspections. Once it was cleared, it was passed off to be delivered.

Several hours later, a call went out for Amnita that she was report to one of the guards. Once she checked in and her identity was verified, she was lead to a room with a glass computer screen and a camera.

When Amnita sat down in the chair, the image of Ceilia flashed onto the screen.

Reunited...and it feels so good....

--Peaches and Herb, "Reunited"

Aminta leaned in and said, overjoyed but frantic, "Benny! BENNY! It's Aminta, remember, Lynn's friend? That neechan from Long Beach Polytechnic High School, with those ships and sh-er, stuff?" Leaning into the computer screen, she smiled and said, "Wassup? After all that ranting about National Service, I bet you never expected me to actually submit to the system." Tugging at her uniform, she said, "I'm a Navy officer now, Benny. Master Chief Petty Officer. Pretty high up there in the ranks of the Non-Commissioned."

She then looked about and said, seriously, "Listen, I need to ask you to do me and my fellow naval officers a favor. We Dornalians and our Colonial buddies helped you nab Cain and her lackeys. I mean, the reason we mutinied, was because she was just sittin' there, playin' generalissimo and shit, while her subordinates were doing stupid shit that she didn't do nothin' about. Ben, you wouldn't believe the kind of crap they put us through. Sexual harassment. Verbal abuse. Preferential treatment for the Colonials that they liked--there were plenty they didn't like--and so on. And lemme tell ya something--as a gata, like me, I don't do sexual harassment. Okay?

This shit goes for both of our teams. The people who mutinied on the Isis were both Colonials and Dornalians who couldn't take it anymore."

Pausing for a moment, she then said, "I guess what I'm trying to say here, is that since we helped y'all for a good reason, I guess what I'm tryin' to ask for is to see if you can help get us Dornalians and our Colonial buddies out of the slammer. If ya can't do that, then at least see what you can do to make them ease up on we, the mutineers who helped y'all nab Cain, if only a little. Ya dig?"

Tauron Fleet

Bells and whistles rang out across the Tauron fleet, as the executive officer of the Warstar Ares opened a channel. He took a deep breath as he thought of what to say. His orders were ambagious, the wording not exactly clear of his order to make them vanish.

Major Henderson sighed as he thought to himself. It was clear he didn’t want to harm his crew, he didn’t desire any missing persons reports. Sure the Dornie command was a bunch of traitorous sell outs, but that didn’t mean every dornie was, or the others here from other colonies.
He gripped the mic, as he stared into the face of his Admiral. “This is Major Henderson, the executive officer of the Warstar Ares of the Independent Colony of Tauron. You all know the mission, you all know what is at stake, and many of you can assume what will follow.”

With a heavy heart he continued, “Now I expect some of you, especially those from the other Twelve Colonies may not agree with the decision. Many of you have doubts I am sure, and some of you are probably scared. Scared of what will happen when we go to war, scared of what will happen if you resist your commander, or scared if you express your opinion. These are all things for every man and woman to decide for themselves. Under orders from Admiral of the Tauron Fleet Metaxas, all of you are given one chance. If you do not desire to join the independent Colony in it’s fight to protect the other Colonies. If you do not desire to put your life on the line, or if you do not desire to potentially fight your brothers should gods forbid it comes to it, then go to the port flight pod of your battlestars.”

“Commanders, your orders are this. Do not harm anyone who wishes to leave. Their records will not be blemished, nor will they be mistreated. If any cases of abuse occur then they will answer to me, and Admiral Metaxas. No one is to vanish without a trace, there will be no missing person reports, or accidents. Anyone who wishes to leave may. They will board a raptor in their uniform, fully honored, but unarmed, which will depart to their colony.”

“This is a tough decision, and I know how you must feel. Even if you disagree with this decision, many of you have friends that may desire to stay. No one is to try to influence any other. Major Henderson out.”

He hung up the coms, as Admiral Metaxas nodded to him. “Well played.”

“Well John.” the XO stated, “They are still Colonials.”

“Misguided, but you are right.”

As they turned three people from the CIC, walked out, one Caprican, and two Taurons. The exodus has begun.

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

Lakfakallae

Admiral Adama lowered his head for a moment, as the real Emperor came out. “I am sorry, I was under the wrong impression.” the old man stated as he watched the true Emperor of the Humankind Abh Empire come out. He listened to their banter, and conversations, as Adama stayed quiet. Then came the display of the world. It was still raw, but the old man lifted his glasses and stared at the rock. “Defensible, unknown.” he said analyzing the image. Looking at the world he could see clearly the resources it had to offer.

He cracked a slight smile as he looked at the image. Many people wanted to go to a home, to sit under blue skies, and simply put their feet in water. To breathe fresh air again, was such a luxury most did not have, in this day and age, especially for the Colonial Remnant.

Adama turned towards Gaf’ton and smiled, then towards the Emperor who he just met. “It is a fine planet.” Adama said as he took one step towards the Emperor and reclasped his hands in front of him. “I think it would be ideal, thank you.” he said as he looked back at the new image of hope for those under his command. “What do you call it?” he asked the Abh Emperor or Admiral whoever decided to answer first.

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

Caprica City, Caprica
Newly reborn, Twelve Colonies of Kobol

The votes were tallied, and it was said and done. The gifts of Earth, were truly generous, for the now reborn Twelve Colonies of Kobol, as they were easily enough to bring the colonies back to their former glory, enough to bring them back to a pre-first cylon war era society.

All it cost was a bit of their pride, to return to the time before the cylons were created. Money, jobs resources that would not be robbed by the military, but for the actual civilians. Medicines, work forces, education, advancements, all for the cost of their ego, and to stay their hand. It was more than a fair trade, as the Quorum... now of Twelve, voted. With Taurons absence, it was unanimous, the Colonies would remain at peace with the Abh.

As the report came to Metaxas, he lowered his head in silence. He now knew Cain was right, as those politicians ended up serving themselves other than the greater good. He knew he had to act fast, to secure supplies and resources, before De Bruyn could trap him, and strangle him in an act of attricition.

Balling up the paper he looked to the CIC. “How is the evac going?”

“Three more minutes sir, before we begin to ship off the crew.” Major Henderson said as he looked at the clock counting down. “Alright, once the raptors have departed, I want a ship to ship call to all loyal ships, secure channel. I want the IFF’s changed, and I want to begin preparations to assault the home systems of the Abh. Have a report ready for me for invasion as soon as possible.”

“Yes sir.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Big Gun
In Orbit of Picon

Twenty minutes later, on the screens of the Big Gun, Tauron fleet began to launch Raptors, as thousands began to take off out of the flight pods of the ships. The helm could easily see where they were going under normal engine power, towards the loyal eleven colonies. However soon they detected some spinning their FTL’s. It was obvious where they would be going... to Earth, or the Abh.

(Sorry for the crappy ending, I will expand on this further in the next post. Abh don't forget ND posted a transmission from Picon Fleet HQ to Lakfakallae.)

OOC: Don't worry I haven't forgotten.

IC:

A few baronh symbols popped on screen below the satellite image. While the foreign language looked complex, the name itself was relatively simple. "Currently it is just a processed planet called Gareul 5467 but if you desire to settle on it then you free to call the world by whatever you see fit. Of course, I understand if you require time to think about your answer. This is a monumental decision for your people."

From Gaf'ton's clyuno came a flashing blue light as someone tried to page him. He excused himself and exited the chambers. Once outside, a woman's voice emerged from the flashing jewel. "This is the Imperial Admiral, go ahead."

"Sorry to bother you, Excellency but we are receiving a transmission from New Dornalia. They wish to speak with us and the Colonials."

It seemed to be a day of coincidences. "Well they are in luck, Admiral Adama happens to be in the palace right at this moment. I will speak with them first though."

The woman took a moment as she made the arrangements. "Connecting you to the Dornalians now."

Mean time, back in the throne room, Debeusec left the holographic screens behind and walked back to his throne to take a seat. "Now I am afraid that I must report some bad news to you. This is the main reason I believe you were called here as this could not be trusted by a simple communication transmission.

Yesterday, a warship from your Colonial brothers managed to enter our borders. D'Hara to be exact. We do not know why the ship entered our space or if it was a simple miscalculation but we do know that they refused all orders to stand down. Instead, the ship attacked our forces in D'Hara and a battle ensued. Shortly after the ship was destroyed after we managed to rescue the majority of the crew. The survivors are in a POW camp and are being prepared to return home once this is straightened out.

After studying the wreckage, we manage to learn that it was the Warstar Isis . Admiral Cain was killed in the process."

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

Ceilia sat in the comfort of her own attack vessel as Aminta spelled out her gripes against the Colonials. The Abriel princess sat there with a blank expression. "Well, you should not have to worry about such problems anymore now that you have been freed from that ship. As far as your release is concerned, there is little that I can do. From what I have heard, your government is aware that you are being housed in one of our camps but thus far has made no requests as to when and how you should be returned. We are simply waiting on them before we turn you over.

Considering the Colonials, they are a different manner. War with them appears eminent so we cannot release them with the assumption that they will report to the superiors and relay valuable information about our capabilities. I imagine they will have to remain until this is all resolved.

For your treatment, I imagine it is as light as conventionally possible. Most of the security measures are for your safety but you should be receiving adequate food and lodging along with a recreation center. Standard treatment for all civil disagreements."

Ceilia sat in the comfort of her own attack vessel as Aminta spelled out her gripes against the Colonials. The Abriel princess sat there with a blank expression. "Well, you should not have to worry about such problems anymore now that you have been freed from that ship. As far as your release is concerned, there is little that I can do. From what I have heard, your government is aware that you are being housed in one of our camps but thus far has made no requests as to when and how you should be returned. We are simply waiting on them before we turn you over.

Considering the Colonials, they are a different manner. War with them appears eminent so we cannot release them with the assumption that they will report to the superiors and relay valuable information about our capabilities. I imagine they will have to remain until this is all resolved.

For your treatment, I imagine it is as light as conventionally possible. Most of the security measures are for your safety but you should be receiving adequate food and lodging along with a recreation center. Standard treatment for all civil disagreements."

Shit just got real.

--Hot Fuzz and Bad Boys II

Aminta frowned and said, scratching her head, "Huh." Clearly, her hopes were somewhat dashed, and that showed on her face. Curious, she asked Ceilia, "Umm.....well. So let me ask you this. Since apparently, y'all can't release us because Daddy MacIntyre hasn't asked for us and the Colonials know shit y'all need to know, what's stopping you from taking down a message and relaying it to New Dornalia through whatever diplomats ya got in Los Angeles, asking what's the holdup? I mean, once they know we're waiting, they gotta negotiate for our release, right?"

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

The Big Gun
In Orbit of Picon

Twenty minutes later, on the screens of the Big Gun, Tauron fleet began to launch Raptors, as thousands began to take off out of the flight pods of the ships. The helm could easily see where they were going under normal engine power, towards the loyal eleven colonies. However soon they detected some spinning their FTL’s. It was obvious where they would be going... to Earth, or the Abh.

De Bruyn looked at his console, and knew indeed what he feared was possibly coming true. He soberly examined the scanners, and then knew it was time to act. Lyndie merely noted the obvious, saying, "The uitlanders are moving out. I wonder what mischief they're up to now?"

Picking up his gertrude, he then said to Lyndie, "Patch me through to JRCCC."

----------

Joint Revolutionary Command and Control Center, Los Angeles, Earth SSR

"Comrade Premier! It's De Bruyn. Those Mannerheims he requested......he wants them deployed, now."

The Comrade Premier looked at the message from the Big Gun, as De Bruyn requested that the Mannerheims under the Navy's control be marshalled and deployed per his previous instructions.

MacIntyre thus said, "Do it. I'm tired of these cocksuckers."

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

Several moments later....

The Tauronese Contingent's Raptors would be greeted by sight of the telltale flashes of Dornie Jump Drives....and the appearance and phasing in of what looked like giant spiderlike platforms and escorting vessels, a few piecemeal Lin Biao Heavy Cruisers and some Mao Zedong Mark IIIa pocket battleships along with a few Prochkhorovka Fleet Carriers to supervise. The sight was repeated all over everything Tauronese, from Tauron itself to Picon to Scorpia.

Then, the Tauronese at the Fleet bases at Picon and Scorpia would suddenly find their jumpdrives malfunctioning. And, a message was broadcasted to all of them. Indeed, a message was broadcasted on all public frequencies, Dornalian and Colonial, and frankly, anybody who was watching the United Colonies.

"Attention all Colonials, and all persons watching the United Colonies. This is Admiral of the Fleet Christiaan Balthazar Theron De Bruyn.

About forty-five minutes ago, forces from the Tauronese Contingent of the United Colonial Fleet made suspicious movements in their sectors. This is in clear violation of the order I had issued to the United Colonial Fleet not to initiate operations or move out unless I gave explicit authorization. Additionally, said forces were detected as having begun preparations for FTL travel. Given the rapidly moving circumstances, I can surmise that these efforts have one and only one end.

To stop a potentially destructive act of vigilantism, I have therefore initiated the following procedures.

I have introduced Faster Than Light Interdiction Platforms into the areas surrounding Tauron and the Tauronese Contingent forces around Picon and Scorpia. The latter two have been activated already, but will not stop anybody currently moving at sublight speeds or conventional travel. The former set of FTLi mechanisms have not been activated yet, out of concern for the civilian population. They can continue to get food and materials. However, a picket line has been established at all three, to monitor activity and to inspect all incoming vessels.

I also shall grant the Tauronese Contingent 72 hours to do the following.

They will cease all movement and power down systems.

They will report as to why they have begun movements of a presumably aggressive nature.

If said movements are not aggressive, then they will be released. If said movements are aggressive, then the offending personnel will be interned and disarmed and the leaders and active, willing participants of the conspiracy tried and punished for insubordination to the maximum extent of the law.

Failure to comply with any of these orders, either through aggressive resistance of these orders, willful destruction of Colonial--Thirteenth or Original Twelve--or foreign property, and any and all violent acts in general by the Tauronese Contingent, will result in immediate internment and disarmament of the Tauronese Contingent--by force, if necessary.

Foreign nations, I am sure, are hearing of the events occuring now in the United Colonies. They are hereby ordered to stay out of Colonial Affairs. This enforcement of Colonial Law and Order is an internal Colonial Matter, and foreign interference in that sovereign right will not be tolerated. Additionally, the diplomatic crisis that precipitated this is also strictly a Colonial Matter. All foreigners are requested to stay out of it as well, and let the United Colonies sensibly solve it like the rational individuals we are with the other party. Thank you."

Thus, the ships surrounding the FTLi platforms around Tauron proceeded to begin inspections ASAP, and the Colonial Fleet--Twelve Originals and Dornie People's Navy alike--began preparing to either recieve the surrenders of the Tauronese....or recieve their gunfire. And those Raptors would suddenly find it hard to move via FTL.

The Colonies:


After the message was sent by the Colonial Admiral, he would be surprised to see the sudden appearance of a massive ship fading into Real Space. The Serendipity had arrived again to Colonial space. The massive ten kilometer structure was causing all sorts of sensor misreading as her massive gravity signature and power readings were detected by the Colonial ships. It would not take long for the systems to recalibrate since they have already frequently encountered Ta’Nar vessels. Over three hundred of them still remained within the Colonies as their ever present assistance continues without asking for a single favor in return. It was known how powerful their frigates and other vessels were, all under two hundred meters. It was unthinkable how much power one of their vessels were and this was the largest Ta’Nar ship seen, ever.

After allowing for their allies sensors to recalibrate, The Serendipity sent out a message.

"This is the Imperial flagship of the Fallen Empire. We have been monitoring the situation for some time and now you have addressed us, Nhur-Galladu wishes to make an official statement."

After a moment, another voice and image filled the screen, one of a tall Ta'Nar wearing the white and gold robes of the Warlord.

"Greetings, this is Nhur-Galladu, Warlord of the Fallen Empire of Balrogga. As already stated, the Ta’Nar have been monitoring the situation in the Colonies for some time but until now, nobody has bothered to ask our opinion. With the breakdown of the United Colonies, we have determined this to be an internal affair, one of Sovereign Rights."

"Due to this fact, I have decided to take the Colonies under our protection until they have solved their own difficulties and become unified again. We will blockade the Colonies and not allow any foreign power to influence them. Only Colonial vessels will be allowed to enter or leave the area, we will not interfere with their passage."

"The Ta’Nar intend to work with Admiral De Bruyn in this matter and until they have resolved their issues, we will not take any side."

"The Ta’Nar asks all non-colonial vessels to remove their presence and once it is clear, we will take positions outside Colonial Space allowing the entity formally known as the United Colonies to take their fate into their own hands. If any foreign power tries to interfere, the Fallen Empire will consider it an act of aggression against ourselves and exert our full strength against the interlopers, enemies and allies alike."

"We will make no exceptions in this matter. The Colonies have been interfered too much in the past and we will not allow it to happen again if we can help it. I will leave The Serendipity in this location to act as neutral ground for any meetings if it is desired and to allow the possibility of easy communications between the Colonies and the Ta’Nar."


The message ended with silence following. Nhur-Galladu knew Chaos was about to follow but he was adamant, he would not allow them to be manipulated again. He had seen too much of the Coredians and Vader’s as well as the Abh spies which started the last Cylon war which destroyed so many people. The whole of the Colonies now counted as Ta’Nar territories but he had no intention to rule over them, only to protect them from outers.






Battlestar Isis:




There were two passengers still aboard the Isis that went unaccounted for, mainly because they were only known to a select few Officers of the late Admiral.

Maya watched as yet another team of Imperial troops searched the room she was standing in. If she had been broadcasting an image, she would have been discovered immediately. Instead the Childer remained unseen in the quarters assigned to her by Cain, a pure mind floating in an empty room that appeared to be unused.

Maya and her escort had been assigned to Cain to act as an interim between Ta’Nar forces and Colonial during maneuvers. Her specialty was communications to allow her to easily tap into the Kython collective and relay battle movements during cooperative battles so the combined Colonial and Ta’Nar fleets could exchange tactical and messages without alerting enemy forces that might have the ability to tap into radio communications. During down time, Cain had spoken many times with the Childer about who she was and how she came to be, well, a Childer. Her escort, a Kython known to her as Ktzzazs, had mostly remained within the small quarters assigned to them. It was not needed so it settled down to meditate with the Overmind and experiencing the actions of other Kythons through that metaphysical Link they all shared.

When the attack began, they remained within the room and awaited communications from Admiral Cain. When things turned ugly, Maya reached out with her mind and tried to monitor the events going on but the utter chaos aboard the ship kept her from making sense of most of the gibberish. When the Imperials boarded, she has followed her contingency orders and dropped her projection. Using her own Link, she had relayed all she could discover using her psionics back to her contacts through the Childer communal mind. Ktzzazs has silently liquefied his body and merged with the ship. Their new orders were to observe the Imperials and to collect data on their techniques, relaying them back to the Ta’Nar. Whenever a soldier would wander close, she would listen to their surface thoughts, which was how she found out about Cain’s death.

As the situation unfolded around them, from the time that they learned of Cain's untimely demise, through the political maneuverings that gripped the colonial government in the absence of their leader, to the present situation between the Dornalians and the Tauron fleet, the Godulans had remained silent. They were not quite certain what to do as the situation unfolded, so they elected to hold back and watch. Gripped by rage at the actions of the Abh Empire, they knew retribution would come some day, but cooler heads would need to prevail at the Colonies if any sort of workable penance were to be exacted upon the wretched beasts that killed the person who had brought them back from the brink.

They simply continued on their duties, ferrying down materials from the gargantuan replication array and assisting reconstruction efforts to rebuild facilities that remained compromised in the aftermath of the Cylon bombardment. They were here to repair things, not dictate policy.

When the Balroggan vessel arrived and proclaimed the Colonies to be placed under protectorate status, the Godulans actually 'raised an eyebrow' in confusion. Whenever the Godulans helped anybody they considered it an unofficial establishment of protectorate status. After all, the Godulans preferred to protect their investments, whether they were expecting an actual return from it or not. Perhaps it might assist to ensure that anybody who tried to take advantage of the situation would face two forces rather than just one?

To any who might have been near the Replication Array, they would have seen it flex slightly in movements similar to a cat casually stretching its claws... or what it might have looked like if it were a cat with a hundred tentacles all studded with strange clawlike structures stretching across two hundred and sixty kilometers of space. At the same time, its power output flared for a mere moment, easily overwhelming even the prodigious power and gravimetric readings from the Balroggan Flagship before returning to normal.

A comm signal went out, the voice of Domiel, the coordinator of the Godulan Relief Effort at the Colonies, venturing out into the void with a soft voice tinged with sadness.

A sad day it is to see the United Colonies splintered so. The greatest asset a people can call upon in such trying times is their solidarity, both to deal with the crisis and consider a response. We would not seek to influence how the Colonial people conduct themselves in this instance, but know this. In light of recent events, we shall echo the actions of our esteemed Balroggan allies. We formally declare protectorate status over the Colonies alongside the Balroggans. If any foreign entity should seek to capitalize on the present state of affairs, they will meet their end at the point of both Balroggan and Godulan weapons.

Our policy is one of strict non-interference in the present political situation, but we will not step aside for any band of brigands that seeks to plunder and pillage. Reconstruction efforts shall continue, uninterrupted. We hope for a swift and amicable solution for the colonies.

Adama glared for a moment, as he listened to Gaf’ton addressing the situation with the Colonial Vessel, the Isis. What would prompt such an obvious lie, especially to a man who knew more about Colonial ships than any alien trying to reverse engineer a Colonial ship could. Weren’t they supposed to be allies?

Adama crossed his arms as Gaf’Ton talked, obviously not gifted with the ability to lie decently. Colonial battlestars, and warstars were not fitted with escape pods, the only way to evac the crew was via raptors, and even then Adama knew the critical flaw in the Warstar design. There were not enough raptors to get more than twenty five percent of the crew off. Had the Isis been destroyed first, the majority of the crew would have gone down in flames, not been rescued later. No something happened, something that he was not being told.

Adama took a deep breath as he approached Gaf’ton, “It is regrettable then that Cain decided to attack D’hara. I knew Admiral Cain, Gaf’Ton. She was never that reckless, so I am glad that you were able to remove her from command. If she was willing to attack your planet without any support, then she must have lost her mind. The Colonies are much better off now.” he said, deciding not to pick a fight. It was pointless, had the Abh trusted him with the truth they would have said it.

Adama had to worry about his own fleets. The Abh had promised them a planet, and protection. He knew that upsetting them in this critical junction might jeapordize that promise, and continuing aid.

Adama then turned to the Emperor of the Humankind Abh. “You said that you had Colonial and Dornie POW’s. With your permission, Emperor, I would like to have them transferred to the Colonial Remnant. I will send raptor teams to pick them up, and integrate them into the Remnant fleet. They might have followed Cain, but they are still Colonials. If you allow this then they will not be a burden on your system, and we can keep them out of the Colonies for whatever counter action I assume you are planning with the Colonies.”

Then the message appeared for Gaf’ton and Adama. Adama turned towards the screen. He could see a man, with a strange accent wearing a Dornie Uniform, and some strange new pips. “This is Adama.” the admiral spoke into the screen. “To whom are we speaking to?”

(OOC: Will post what is happening in Tauron as soon as I can write a good post for it.)

OOC: Making a quick post here to react to the Kythons, whilst OG gets to write up Tauron.

IC:

What we need is awareness, we can't get careless
You say what is this?
My beloved, let's get down to business
Mental self defensive fitness

--Public Enemy, Fight the Power


De Bruyn now waited for the inevitable reply from Metaxas. So far, the Kythons, in their infinite wisdom, had proclaimed their willingness to comply with the Non-Interference Order. However, their Infinite Wisdom had only gone so far, for they now made the United Colonies a "protectorate." Such had led to angry calls from San Diego, involving MacIntyre demanding that De Bruyn tell those "Cannibal Shiteaters to stop throwing their weight around."

To that, De Bruyn sent messages to the Godulans and the Balroggans consecutively on secure channels.

"To whom it may concern--

We in the United Colonies appreciate your respect of the Non-Interference Order I have issued concerning foreign elements and their offer to assist in the repulsion of violators of the NIO, which we accept. However, we are concerned that the recent Ta'Nar declaration of protection and the Godulan declaration of assent to such protection may in fact pose a de jure and de facto threat to our soveriegnity--that was the impression we got from the wording. Please clarify the intent of your messages, so that it does not seem your intention to defend us becomes a veil for negative designs. After all, the term 'protectorate' is usually thrown around in contexts involving imperialism and designs upon deprivation of sovereignity--something that I would imagine none of us would enjoy being associated with.

Christiaan B.T. De Bruyn
Admiral of the Fleet
United Colonies of Kobol"

Having sent the message, he then opened a secure channel on another screen on the console, through the secure line to the Vobayrunay Lease, and then had Tsing patch him through....

Then the message appeared for Gaf’ton and Adama. Adama turned towards the screen. He could see a man, with a strange accent wearing a Dornie Uniform, and some strange new pips. “This is Adama.” the admiral spoke into the screen. “To whom are we speaking to?”

"You are speaking to the new Admiral of the Fleet. Admiral Christiaan Balthazar Theron De Bruyn. Formerly Supreme Admiral of the New Dornalian People's Navy, and then Vice Admiral of the United Colonial Fleet, now, by order of succession due to the disappearance and what I can only imagine is the death of Admiral Cain, the Commander-In-Chief of the United Colonies."

Nodding to Gaf'ton, he spoke with a brief, "Imperial Admiral, you can be assured that the present crisis in the United Colonies is mainly an internal matter, and that we are doing all we can to bring peace to the situation. Additionally, you can be assured I have not ordered my forces to move against the Frybarec; likewise, the Quorum has been persuaded to vote down actions against the Frybarec as well. We are aware of the prisoners you hold, Dornalian and Colonial....we would like to secure their release in a rational manner. But first things first."

He then turned to Adama, and spoke thusly:

"Admiral Adama. It has been a while since the people of Earth spoke to their cousins in the Remnant, as they are called. But, now is not the time for a history lesson.

Now, it is time to put the United Colonies back together. I am a military man by persuasion, and I am not eager to playact at being shogun or generalissimo. I came into the job of serving as a Navy man to my job as a professional defending the people and the law, not to lord over them. Therefore, I intend to push for the restoration of democracy in the United Colonies within 90 days."

He then leaned into the screen and asked, "And, I want you and the Remnant onboard with us. I want to put the Colonies back in shape. Democratic Restoration is but one aspect.

Another is bringing all the Colonials back together into one nation again."

He then brought up an image of Adama's service record. He scanned it thoughtfully, and said, "I was looking at your service record. You have experience, good, honest background, and valorous conduct. And, you possess knowledge of the Colonies--I need these things. I am from Earth--I need someone who can act as an effective interlocutor with the Colonials I will be commanding from the Twelve."

He then finished his speech to Adama with, "I am offering you the job of Vice Admiral of the United Colonies, and by extension, a chance for the Remnant to come home and help rebuild the democracy. Pay is good, safety is assuredly guaranteed, and you're an honest man. Will you accept?"

Nhur-Galladu responded to De Bruyn’s message almost immediately.

Admiral,

To ask these questions indicates you do not truly know the Ta’Nar. We as a people do not like to remain in a single place. We are nomadic and has given up concepts of creating empires or claiming planets. The term imperialize would not apply to the Ta’Nar in any way for our territory, if we possessed one, would be where we are and not some stationary place such as these Colonies.

Our only interest is to protect our friends and the best way is to make sure nobody is allowed to interfere. I would be willing to travel to The Bib Gun if you wished to discuss this more privately. Please let my staff know when you would like to meet and I will be there.

While we are here, the two fleets I have already on location will continue their rebuilding processes. I plan on bringing in additional resources and deploy them around the Colonies to make sure a quarantine zone is established, this way the rebuilding process is not disturbed by these events yet security is not compromised in any way.


The command staff awaited a reply.

Aminta frowned and said, scratching her head, "Huh." Clearly, her hopes were somewhat dashed, and that showed on her face. Curious, she asked Ceilia, "Umm.....well. So let me ask you this. Since apparently, y'all can't release us because Daddy MacIntyre hasn't asked for us and the Colonials know shit y'all need to know, what's stopping you from taking down a message and relaying it to New Dornalia through whatever diplomats ya got in Los Angeles, asking what's the holdup? I mean, once they know we're waiting, they gotta negotiate for our release, right?"


"Common courtesy. We do not want to appear overly assertive in demands to your nation. You are perceived as an abrupt guest at this point in time even though a colony of yours did jump into our space and refuse to stand down.

Don't worry. I am only a Hecto-commander. For all we know, the higher ups are already discussing your release and you will be back home in no time."

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

Gaf'ton eventually returned to the Jade Throne room when the image of De Bruyn was magnified for all to see. The Abriel stood easily beside Adama while the Dornalian Admiral spoke.

"With all due respect Admiral, I the Abh Empire has a vested interested in the Colonies and the legitimate government that fled during the coup. I speak for the Emperor when we name them as friend and ally. If they are to return to the Colonies, then I must be guaranteed their adequate protection if they wish to return. I would also like to have an observer come along with Admiral Adama should he and his people wish to return, to ensure that all goes well for them."

Emperor Debeusec sat quietly and emotionless as he listened to the talks between the subordinates. "Admiral De Bruyn, I to have something that I would like to bring up. We have received your transmission about asking all foreign powers to remain out of the Colonial internal affair though the Balroggans and Godulans have not so easily removed themselves from that particular piece of space.

The Abh Empire shall abide but such a request so long as no more Colonial forces appear within our territory. Should such an attack occur within our borders, I will be forced to assume that New Dornalia cannot handle this matter. Please understand that this is not personal, I am simply looking after all of the vassals within the Empire."

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

The Isis sat in the void of space, next to no where. Small sparks flew from what remained of the once proud hull as workers began dismantling the ship. Engineers went through the ship checking off systems that might prove interesting or beneficial. Weapon systems appeared fairly standard and nothing of interest to the Abh other than the low technological level it represented.

Only the force inhibitors and the FTL drive interested the Abh. The drive managed to slip through the FTLi's so it was prudent to study the drive and figure out how to stop its functioning. From studying the device up close and looking at past reports of Colonial travel, the ship made a spontaneous jump which theoretically meant it could not be stopped once started.

Fortunately, there was a new design of FTLi being crafted that would help stop such incursions. The idea of taking the FTL was abandoned and would be destroyed with the rest of the ship. Now the crews only concerned themselves with the Force Inhibitors.

Pulling one section of the device free, the engineers came across a black material they had rarely seen before. It matched a few rare elements and some of them began tossing around the possible origin of the device. All had agreed that the Colonials could not have come up with some so advanced judging by the level of technology in the rest of the ship.

A transmission went out for a lone ship flying freely through space. An urgent message flickered on Darth Twilight's counsel.

The Sith Lord known as Darian stood in the Ascendant research facility on Caprica, his mask off and his glowing eyes staring at a screen of data as he reviewed the situation. It had been a busy couple of months as he switched between governing the remaining people of his race and continuing his training as a New Sith in the NSO under Atrox and Sunshine. It was very....straining, especially since in his current organic body, he was able to feel the flaws of hunger, thirst, fatigue, and other such things. It was annoying to be sure, but it was something he was going to have to deal with and he had gotten used to it. However, he had much more worrying business to take care of. After finishing the report sent to him by one of the other Ascendants, he closed the file and paused for a moment, speaking on their psionic mental link to all the remaining Ascendants. He consulted them on the situation and what he believed they should do. They were all in agreement with his suggestion.

He stood up, and headed to the communications room. Once he arrived, the Xel'athi workers, quiet and introverted after the destruction of their worlds and most of their race, moved aside to let him do his work. They knew he preferred to set up things himself, so that they would not go astray from what he had planned. When the network was on open broadcast throughout the Colonies, he began to speak. He left his mask off, so as to let the Colonials recognize his face.

"I am Darian of the Ascendancy Remnant, those who promised the Admiral Cain to protect the Colonies and ensure they would be kept safe. When our people were brought to near extinction, we were still in the matter of helping out the Colonies with your damaged worlds. We had nowhere to go and decided that if we were to vanish, as we are sure will happen to us, we wanted to help one of those peoples who needed our aid and wisdom the most. And the Colonies were who we picked. Now, I have come to find out that the Admiral is dead and the Colonies are having troubles involving governmental issues. Echoing the sentiments of the Balroggans, Godulans and others, I will offer any and all Remnant forces to the Colonies to keep the interdiction field and patrolled and to insure no foreign influence not allowed by the Colonies and its people will enter. We will not intervene in governmental disputes, for we are here to protect, not control. My promise has shifted from Admiral Cain to the entirety of the Colonies. We will remaining, protecting you and doing our best to bring you up to further heights. But, we will not allow anyone into this space that has not been granted permission and patrols will be added to the Godulans, Balroggans, and Colonies own. If any problems occur, you can inform us and we will see what we can do."

The message ended and Darian left to go to his quarters. He had preparations to make. And even as he did this, the smooth ships of the Ascendants slid out from their shipyards and berths to head for the boundaries of Colonial space, beginning the patrols they had promised. They only number two hundred, but they would protect the Colonies to the end.

OOC: Had a better post, but the compy crashed. Thus, this is a MUCH more truncated version.

IC:

Lots of people act well, but few people talk well. This shows that talking is the more difficult of the two.

--Oscar Wilde

Aminta shrugged, and replied, "Figures. And you wonder why my momma told me to never trust The Man....." Leaning her head onto her hand, she then asked, "So yeah. What's it like being hecto-commander? I'm sure its busier than being Master Chief Petty Officer."

---------

De Bruyn replied with a quick text message to the Ta'Nar that their explanation was welcome, but that they would need to come to the Big Gun to hash everything out. As this occurred, he heard the Abh replies, and nodded. Putting up a "Cone of Silence" around the console with a sheld and whitenoise generators, De Bruyn spoke to Gaf'ton.

"We will of course, provide nothing but the utmost protection and safety for the Colonial Remnant should they decide to return. As you know, Imperial Admiral, we in the People's Navy are nothing but professionals dedicated to carrying out their jobs to the utmost--as I understand you are, as well. Failing to protect Admiral Adama's forces should they return would be disastrous, and a blight upon my record I would be unable to forgive myself for."

He then turned to Debeusec and said, "Likewise, such professionalism will extend to my ability to understand your need to defend the Frybarec's holdings--we're all professionals, seeking to do our jobs to their utmost, and you are indeed a professional seeking to do his best for his people. As it is, I am indeed working to ensure that no more trouble results that will force your hand. The recent crisis in the Colonies, in fact, was precipitated by some disgruntled Tauronese who would like to force your hand--something none of us, especially the United Colonies and New Dornalia, neither desire nor can afford at this time. As such, that was the reason for the FTLi deployment."

Looking out to both of them, he said simply, "Now, the Imperial Admiral's request. I can imagine such a thing would be percieved as being in contravention of the Non-Interference Order. Thus, any observer would have to be deployed in an undercover fashion, disguised as a Dornalian Naval seaman or Marine, to avoid suspicion. It sounds ludicrous, but it would be the most feasible way of allowing your man or woman in, without arousing too much trouble.

Speaking of realities...what of the individuals from the Isis incident? I imagine they would like to be sent home as quickly as possible."

A response eventually returned to De Bruyn, short but somewhat to the point.

We swore to Cain that we would aid the colonies and that nothing would be asked in return. Such an agreement does not vanish with her death. What happens internally is your business, as you acquired your present position legally. OUR business, as we arranged with the late Admiral Cain, is with anybody who seeks to push the Colonies around.

--Sealtiel, The Defender

OOC: Requesting a general pause in events and posts until OG can get a post together.

Paris, Virgon
Twelve hours after De Bruyn was sworn into office.

It was once believed that when someone died, that their body should be placed on the pyre. Two coins, adorned their eyes, along with their possessions. Their body was washed in fine perfume, rubbed down soon after death to prevent the smell of rot.

The recently deceased would then be lead through the streets, with their friends and family wailing to the gods, their prayers and their anguish. At the end, a loved one, usually the oldest son, would walk up to the body and cast the torch into the wood, sending the body to Elysium. The man’s soul would be released, as the smoke rose to the heavens, allowing the man to cross the river Styx.

Paris, was the funeral fire, as the once beautiful city on Virgon, much akin to the beauty of the similarly named city on earth was burning. It’s death lead on by the precession of rioters clashing with the marines and army in the city. The wailing, was that of the dying, as blood drenched the streets. None escaped the hell that had come to the peaceful planet, once cited as the Colony of reason and prudence.

It was a long and weary day, as the men of the Virgon 402nd Battalion fought. It was one hell of a day, one that every man and women in the core dreaded. Today they had to do the unthinkable sin, and bring their guns against their own.

Major Thrace sighed as he took off his helmet. Sitting down behind the make shift barricade, he fumbled nervously into his pocket, until he pulled out a pack of smokes. Quickly lighting it, he and three of his men sat down next to him. “So what is the plan Major?” his first Sargent said barely audiable as the sounds of rifles and machine guns collided with rioters.

He shook his head. “Sargent.” he said. We need to secure the roof tops. Take Simpson, and Adria, and take the high ground.” he ordered, as the sounds of crashing glass and a small explosion from a maltav cocktail broke and exploded in front of the barricade. “The Major reached down towards his chest and wrapped his finger around a small chain around his neck. Pulling it up, he reached down and kissed a small medal of the goddess Aurora.

“Alright lets do this.” Major Thrace said. Reaching down towards his chest, he grabbed a long cylinder grenade. Quickly he pulled the pin and tossed it into the crowd.

White smoke descended into the crowd, as the Marines got up past the baracade. The fire burned near it, as black smoke obfuscated their vision. Major Thrace squinted as he tried to get a bead on the crowd.

Pop Pop. It was all the Major heard and the last thing he would ever here. A warm gushing feeling began to bubble from him. It was hot, but it didn’t hurt, nothing did. He tried to take a breath, but couldn’t. What happened? He thought to himself as he struggled to breath. His mouth opened as he gasped, but instead of air, his warm vitae spilled out.

“Oh shit.” the Sargent said as he grabbed the Major. “Sir.” he said, as the major’s iris dilated. The Sarge sighed, as he looked at his men. “Alright.” he said. “Lets frag these frakkers.” he ordered, Taking up his rifle he went over the barricade. Through the smoke and tear gas, he could hear the populace, choking, crying. The noise of scampering feet, was only furthered by the fires of buildings that could be seen through the smoke. “Fire.” he yelled.

A hail of live ammo flew into the crowd, as the bullets tore asunder anything that got in their way. The sarge looked on, as his men moved forward, firing shots at anyone who looked to be a threat. A small smile cracked the old war veteran’s face. “War is hell.” he said as he and his men continued to fire.

As he pulled the last shot into the crowd, and the people dispersed, running for their lives, with some disorganized return fire, a small noise began to hiss over the coms.

“Virgon forces, this is the Battlestar Calypso. Admiral De Bruyn has taken command of United Colonial Forces. Orders are impose martial law and use non lethal force to subdue.

The sargent glared at the radio. “He has to be frakking kidding.” the sarge said as a hail of bullets from an unknown sniper hit around him. Shaking his head, he looked at his men, who were covered in blood and grime. “FRAK!” he yelled. “Alright pull back to that building over there.” he pointed.

“What is going on Sarge.” Private Amelia asked. “Mission change, we need to subdue not put down.”

“The frak you say, they are tryign to kill us.”

“Well take it up with the Admiral of the Fleet. Orders are orders, pull back so we can resupply for non lethal measures.”

“Til then sir?”

“I am not going to let anyone under my command get killed. Until the Fleet drops non lethal, defend yourself.”

Amelia nodded and smiled, “Aye Sir. Alright lock and load, we are pulling back” she yelled out to the rest of the Battalion.

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

Geminion,
Somewhere in the mountainous regions in the northern continent.
St. Michaels’ Monastery.

It has happened before, and will happen again. The basic creed of the Colonial religion, the very corner stone of the Colonial religious mentality truly played itself out. Like the religious wars of earth, from the second century persecution of gnostic and pagans, til the late crusades and the jihads, so to on Geminion did the first true religious war strife in the Twelve Colonies begin.

The monks were in silent prayer, unaware of how they would be mimicking their lord and savior on this day. How could they have known? What would they have done any differently? Like their lord, they would be innocent, and blameless, and soon would be sent to the father above.

Life here was simple, pure, and peaceful. The monks went on with day to day life, walking through the orchards of the meditation gardens, or meditating in silent prayer over a candle. Sometimes they wrote their reflections, and always they tempered their diet.

However this very way of life made them unaware of the suffering to come. There were no televisions, no radios, no telephones. They had no way of knowing what their own had done. How corruption played itself out in the Quorum. How it spun the people into riots, outraged by the Abh, and sickened by the Dornies allegiance to the blue haired bastards.

It was noon, as the bells of the monastery chimed. Dong, as the monks walked in meditation. Dong, they continued to move, and by the third chime, the monks were greeted with an explosion at the main gates.

Men and women poured in, carrying shot guns, rifles, pistols, any arms they could get. Like a sea of marauders they stormed the compound.

Some tried to hide, some tried to run, others accepted their fates as the Sons of Remiel, and Daughters of Aprodite took out their vengeance and hate upon the Dornies and their Cylon beliefs.

The monks were soon dragged out onto the streets before a procession. “Kill them.. Kill the cylon frakkers, kill the false Terra.” the crowd shrieked in unbridled passion, as if whipped up by the very forces of chaos. Their roar was loud, almost endless, as the lords of Chaos demanded the blood of the heretics, and unbelievers.

They were soon dragged down the gravel road to the monastery. Each piece of gravel raking across their bodies, as without mercy, the monks were pulled by hand down towards their fate below... down to a woman in white, the priestess of the Sons of Remiel.

The precession stopped as they looked upon the whore of Remiel, the favored of his concubines on Geminion. She wore a thin white robed, and was graced with the beauty of Aphrodite herself. Her hair was fiery red, and blessed so many times by the son of Chaos, she had an ethereal glow.

The crowd went silent as she approached. Her she moved with the grace of an angel, her skin was flawless, except with a star shaped tattoo on the side of her cheek. She kneeled down towards one of the monks, who’s face was bruised and bloodied. “Tell me brother.” she asked him as she leaned in close enough to kiss him whispering her dark words. “Where is your God?”

The monk looked up to her. Her body smelled of incense. He gulped trying to catch his breath, his eyes winced in pain. “Our God is in heaven. He is merciful and compassionate. I pray he forgives you.” he told her as he hung his head down with one last act of humility.

A small crease of a smile cracked her lips, as the woman stood up. “Such foolish beliefs you heathens have.” she said to him, her voice booming so all can hear. “These false terrans, those whom Remiel himself, the great scion had declared to be a false terra, have come and betrayed us. Here these degenerates of humanity have come and tried to poison us, with their words of cylon love and loyalty. We all here know what the cylons and their God has done. Love, compassion, you do not know the meaning of those words. Well then.” she said as she paused looking into the crowd. “Lets find out shall we. What is it your lord said, that you were to follow him?” she asked the monks.

She then looked up to the crowd. “Then lets show them the path of Jesus. Strip them, whip them, and crucify them.” she yelled to the crowd.

The crowd became whipped up into a frenzy of hate and rage, as the will of Chaos descended on the poor innocent monks. The crowd ripped at their flesh, tearing the clothes off their body, gnawing at their skin with teeth and nails. Blood and flesh was ripped from their bodies, as they screamed in anguish towards their fate.

Each man, was dragged across the ground, towards the sign they prayed to all their lived, two boards nailed together a crucifix. Their arms were held out and their feet pressed together. The hammers pounded into their flesh, as they nailed each of them to the cross. By the end of the day, the monks took up their cross, as Jesus ordered, sitting on the hill, their blood dripping to the earth, feeding it’s dark appetite.

(OOC: More to come please hold posts.)

http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b269/Coredia/JediStampofApproval.jpg

Official Statement from the Office of the Emperor

"In light of the recent statements that have come out, We are deeply disturbed by the actions of the Abh of late. We will be calling a meeting of the GFFA as soon as possible to discuss this matter but at this point, We demand the release of the prisoners immediately and a public apology for recent actions. Also, We stand ready to render assistance should the Thirteen Colonies call for it."

~ Emperor Daniel Alexander Masaki

Cotton McKnight: Looks like it's gonna be a two-on-one, a menagé-a-trois of pain.
Pepper Brooks: Usually you pay double for that kind of action, Cotton.

--Dodgeball

OOC: Part 2 will be added when OG posts part Two of his post. Part 1 was added because CW posted.

Also, please--hold posts until OG can post all three parts of his post! I'm just editing this one, is all.

IC:

Big Gun

De Bruyn looked on the news. So far, events were exploding way out of control.

There was the massacre on Geminon of some monks, the Pope and Father Mulcahy--two irascible Irishmen, one peaceful and a pacifist, one not so much--condemning it, riots breaking out all over the place, various acts of mayhem and craziness, and now Daniel Masaki sticking his nose into things. While he had nothing but respect for the Coredians, the tone of the message seemed inconvienient, even dangerous. Rumors had spread among his crew, wondering what had prompted that from Danny M. Did it have to do with why Danny was so hated here? Or was he jsut referring to the hostages?

Added to this was a message from his former boss, MacIntyre, asking why and how the people of the United Colonies were flipping out, and wondering if De Bruyn was going to "get those fucking people under control." De Bruyn was getting a little irritated at MacIntyre's tone--he was doing the best job possible under the circumstances, and theRockstar Premier was not helping any.

Finally, he did several things. One was to reply to the Godulans with a simple "Thank you" note, then next was a message to the Coredians, written thusly.

"To: Emperor Daniel Alexander Masaki
From: Admiral Christiaan B. T. De Bruyn, Commander-in-Chief of the United Colonies of Kobol and Supreme Admiral of the New Dornalian People's Navy

While your message is well intentioned and we appreciate the offer, your other actions involving the GFFA proper clearly violate my order for foreigners to stay out of the diplomatic crisis involving the Isis that is clearly a Colonial affair. I told the community at large that the diplomatic crisis was clearly a matter for our concern, along with the present internal crisis. Your Highness seems to have misunderstood that portion of my orders.

I am in the middle of negotiating for the release of the POWs. I am in the middle of negotiating a solution. And I will assuredly do something about their recent actions, whatever those may be. Your manuever does nothing to help, and instead demonstrates our impotence as others do the job we should be handling.

I will not repeat this again, Your Highness. LET US HANDLE THIS. STAY OUT. Don't call us, we'll call you."

He then got word from Lyndie, saying, "Admiral--message from Admiral Metaxas."

De Bruyn replied, "Is it a surrender and explanation?"

Lyndie shrugged and replied with a strange mix of sternness and sarcasm, "It's hard to figure you uitlanders out. But I can say it probably is not surrender."

"Show me."

De Bruyn's console flashed with the message from Metaxas. As he read it, he frowned, pursing his lips as one would when eating a sour gumball. The message indeed was like one, but at least gumballs stopped.

Admiral De Bruyn this is Ares Actual. Please be advised to lower your inhibitors in our systems. Tauron does not wish to have conflict with her brothers and sisters, no matter how we disagree. We understand your reluctance to fight the Abh, and how you fear them. We will give you five hours to withdraw your FTLi ships, and to with draw to United Colonial space. Ares out.

Lyndie's console then flashed, and she said, "Admiral, we're picking up transmissions from Metaxas's ship. They may be attempting to contact the Coredians in order to exacerbate the situation."

That revelation hit Christiaan Balthazar Theron De Bruyn like a ton of bricks. He knew that the Coredians were the best friends of the Dornalians...and the Colonies...but also he knew that they evidently now entertained a hatred of the Abh for reasons unknown to him. One wrong move, and the house of cards could collapse. He had to act.

Picking up the gertrude, he called JRCCC.

"San Diego, this is Admiral De Bruyn...."

--------

Joint Revolutionary Command and Control Center, San Diego, Earth SSR

"What's the news from the Colonies?" a very stressed MacIntyre said.

"Bad to worse. Pope has called for a day of prayer in memoriam of what he's calling the Massacre of Geminon. And some kooks on Geminon calling themselves the Inquisition have issued a vid. Something about 'cleansing fire' and 'vengance.' Also, mass rioting, panic, cats and dogs living together mass hysteria, et cetera." Carla replied.

"And?"

"Also, Danny M has intervened. Says he'll bring the Abh into court. Bad blood all around....JRCCC feeds indicate De Bruyn's sent him a letter though."

"Shit. What else?"

"And De Bruyn's on the line."

MacIntyre leaned forward, as De Bruyn's faced popped onto the main screen again. MacIntyre promptly growled, "You wanna fucking tell me why the fuck we're getting so much shit?! I thought you'd have this shit cleaned up already!"

"It is not as simple as you might think. I'm dealing with a crisis here."

MacIntyre immediately let out an angry, "Well, deal with it faster! We got the makings of a jihad on Geminon, one of your men pulling a Broken Arrow and the whole place going fucking insane!"

De Bruyn immediately snapped, "If you would listen, I would explain what my point was in calling. That was to inform you that I am requisitioning more Marines and ships to deal with the emergencies now existing."

MacIntyre replied, "Jesus, fuck--do it! You need my permission, you got it, now do your fucking job!" He then shut the comms, and sighed.

"Carla, why the fuck can't people sit and talk to each other?" he asked.

"Because of a little thing called pride and the human capacity for violence. Can't help it," she replied.

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

And thusly, De Bruyn ordered no less than the movement of People's Navy vessels and Red Army/PN Marines ground forces to quell the uprisings and violent demonstrations now taking place in the Colonies. Aware of such movements' danger to bring about worry, De Bruyn issued two more comms. One was a reply to Metaxas.

"Admiral Metaxas--

The conditions still stand. Stand down and cease all movements. There will be no deviance from my orders."

Then, he issued a general comm to the public--

"Attention all Colonials, and all persons watching the United Colonies. This is Admiral of the Fleet Christiaan Balthazar Theron De Bruyn.

Owing to an increase in panic and violence in the United Colonies, I have authorized reinforcements from Earth to begin moving to assist in the pacification of troubled areas where rioting and presumably religious violence has begun to occur. They will work with local units to restore order to the United Colonies and ensure their safety. That is all."

As this occurred, movements began...

As for the Raptors, they would be given flybys by Dornalian and Colonial Fleet craft, and then recovered.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BM0eR6Kpzik

Six Months Ago
Warstar Isis

Two glasses were poured, one a dark amber colored drink, and the other a lime green. The glasses clinked together, chiming in their symbiotic relationship.

Admiral Helena Cain took her glass and sipped it. “You know Chris.” she said to him as she placed her drink on the table. “It doesn’t matter to me what the people of Earth think about me. Reality is out here you have to struggle to survive. If you are seen as weak, even for a moment, then your enemies will come for you. You have to be harsh, you have to make decisions and quickly, cause if you don’t. If you show mercy, even for one second your enemies will tear you apart, and you will watch many flags float out your airlock. Now your people joined the Twelve Colonies, and despite what they say of me, I will do what is necessary to protect them.”

The tables had truly turned, with the death of Admiral Cain, as the new leader of the Colonies found himself watching the unification of the Thirteen tribes of Kobol vanish into the night air like a dream fading before the morning sun.

Peace and tranquility seemingly ruled here forty eight hours ago, before the ill fated jump, before the vengeance of the Abh, and the death of Cain. History would look back at this moment and be the proper judge of character. The people would be debated, their lives told and retold throughout the ages. It was truly a moment of gods, devils and men.

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

The Warstar Ares
En route to Caprica
Sixteen hours after Admiral De Bruyn’s orders to stand down.

“Sir. All Raptors with cargo en route to their home colonies are under way.” the XO said as he placed his hands against the planning table. Metaxas raised his eyes at his XO then nodded. “Good, I hope they make their way home safe and sound.” he said, sort of apathetically, as he looked at the models on the table. “Tell me again, how many do we have?” he asked his XO.

The XO picked up a clip board and with his left hand put his glasses on. “A total of fifty two battlestars sir.” he said. “Three and escorts are stationed at Scorpia shipyards for refuel resupply, four are maintaining orbit at Melinda/Daan, six are currently stationed at Kobol, leaving us with thirty nine in the system sir, most of which are stationed at Caprica or Tauron.”

“In the middle of the hornet’s nest then.” Metaxas said as he placed his hand up to his forehead in frustration.

“Sir.” the XO said to him whispering so that the men could not hear. “You know that we can back out if you want. We still have time. I think we have proven our point?”

Metaxas shot a glare up at his executive officer. “Back down, and what cower like the others?” he asked angrily. “I have spent my life defending Tauron, before the Twelve Colonies were even unified. I have fought and bled for Tauron, for the Twelve Colonies and then for the United Colonies. I am sorry my friend, but no. I will not allow our nation, and our ideals die in a wake of cowardice. The Dornies are cowering like children about to be spanked, and from the reports, the other Colonies are too greedy to do what is right. No, my friend, we will do what is right, and if we die for it then so be it. I would rather die a Colonial, then live in the wake of the sheep from Earth.”

“I understand sir. What are your orders.”

Metaxas didn’t answer him as he looked down. He knew that with the Jump drive’s safeties on jumping out was impossible. Not with those damn ships blockading Colonial space.

“Sir.” a young coms officer spoke up. “In the last hour Colonial transmissions have been very active. It would seem that the predicament of the situation has sparked quite a up roar. We have detected a signal from the Big Gun to Abh Space, and lots of com chatter between the allies in the system and the Big Gun.”

“And what are they saying?”

“Sir.” the man said as he looked at his commander, “It would appear the Ascendants are enforcing the blockade against all non Colonial ships, and...” then the man paused out of complete disbelief.

“Something wrong lieutenant?”

“Yes sir.” the man said as if he was in shock. “Message from Daniel Masaki. It seems sir, that he is supporting us against the Abh.”

Metaxas stood up and looked at the man. “What?”

“Sir, I can’t believe it either sir, but it appears that Daniel Masaki himself sent a message, calling for the Abh to apologize publically and release their Colonial Hostages.”

Metaxas for the first time cracked a smile on his face. “Perhaps we are not alone.”

With a much lighter heart, the Admiral picked up the phone. “Patch me through to Daniel Masaki.” he ordered. The CIC stood stunned for a moment, “Patch me through.”

Emperor Masaki, this is Admiral Metaxas of the Independent Colony of Tauron. We have intercepted your transmission. Tauron, a new and free Colony would like to thank you for your moral support of our plight and current situation. It is a shame that I am sending this to you under such circumstances, and that the Coredian people and that of any Colony have not spoken together in a long while under a banner of peace.

We are aware that your intentions are well founded, and unlike Admiral De Bruyn who seems to have put his love of the Abh above that of Earth and the other Twelve Colonies, will not tell you to frak off as you might say. Tauron would like to officially ask for your aid in this manner, to bring about a calm and peaceful resolution to this crisis. Be aware that direct intervention is unwise as the Colonies are currently being locked down by Earth SSR.

We however at Tauron would wish for you to continue pressuring the Abh to releasing the hostages that they have wrongfully taken. As a token of our gratitude, we will within the hour release to you the name of the battlestar where your wife is being imprisoned. Warstar Ares out.

The executive officer, cocked his head slightly, as he looked closer at his commander. “Sir, is that wise?”

Metaxas smiled, “We all know one thing about the Coredians. They will stab anyone even their allies in the back, if they think they are right. That message will keep De Bruyn busy for some time, and I am sure the fan club on Earth will be in an uproar when they find out the Admiral of the Fleet told the Emperor of Coredia to frak off. Either way it will give us time to complete our objective.”

He then picked up the com once more. Signal the Big Gun.

Admiral De Bruyn this is Ares Actual. Please be advised to lower your inhibitors in our systems. Tauron does not wish to have conflict with her brothers and sisters, no matter how we disagree. We understand your reluctance to fight the Abh, and how you fear them. We will give you five hours to withdraw your FTLi ships, and to with draw to United Colonial space. Ares out.

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

Flight Deck of the Warstar Ares
One hour ago:

“You stupid son of a bitch.” Leona yelled as she walked in a huff down the octogon corridor. She was pissed, and her husband Matt knew it. Her ears always pulled back, as her tail moved closer to her legs. “I can’t believe you are about to stay. What in the hell is the matter with you, have you gone loco?” she yelled at him as her words came out like fire.

“No, I am fine, I am just not going to be a traitor.” Matt yelled back at her, as the pair walked into the flight deck. “I can’t fight my own home.”

“So that backwards piece of shit you call a home is more important than me. What am I to you a punta?” she hissed at him.

“Frak that.” he said as he walked up to her and tried to wrap his hand around her. “You know I love ya baby.” he said trying to be sweet in a cheesy way. As his hands moved towards her, she reached up and slapped them away. “Don’t you touch me, don’t you ever touch me. You want that worthless peice of shit then fine have it. When this thing is over, if you live through it, I am going to kill you.” Leona yelled.

As the fight was taking place, a couple of people in the background began giggling like school children. “Look, cat fight.” one of the pilots to the raptors said to the others.

“What did you say.” she yelled out. Today was not the day to mess with her, as she began to run towards the pilots, her fist waiving in the air like a mad woman.

As she ran, a Marine jumped at her, grabbing her body, and tossing her to the ground. Although surprised, the poor marine didn’t know what he had done. As she hit the ground, her fingernails shot up at him like darts, clawing at his face.

“Get the fuck off me.” she yelled as she fought the man who was easily twice his size. The man struggled as he reached up for her hands, until her knee made a swift upper motion towards his nuts.

“You bitch” he yelled as two other marines came over to his aid.

As they ran over, so did her husband, “Hey guys, just let her go.” he pleaded with them. “She is just pissed at me alright.”

The marines then grabbed her legs and hands, and the third one put his foot on the back of her head. “Calm the frak down.” he yelled at the gata. As his foot went on the back of her head, her husband ran up and yanked him off her. “Alright I said that is enough.” he yelled.

The marine who was pulled off got up and stood in the man’s face. “She is attacking my men sir.” he said in a harsh and annoyed tone. “I will not put up with it.”

“Yeah.” her husband said, “And the old man said that no abuse would be done during this time. I would hate to have to report you for detaining a person who wished to go free.”

The marine looked at his two buddies, and nodded. “Keep her away from the men and get her on that Raptor asap... Sir.”

Matt walked over to his wife on the ground and tried to help her off. She reached up and pushed his hand away from him, “I told you not to touch me.” she yelled at him as she walked off in a huff towards the raptor. “I love you too.” Matt said, as he watched the raptor door close.

(OOC: I know I still have a lot more to write. Part three, the Adama faction will be up tomorrow.)

Lies and betrayal, were at the core of the Galactic politics. No man knew this more than the old man that was with the Emperor and Admiral Gaf’ton, who made their list of demands, as well as their strong statements of power, assertion, and sovereignty.

As Adama listened, he knew that this had only one natural outcome. Only one way in which he could be useful and help bring an end of this fiasco before it became worse. He didn’t do this out of trust for De Bruyn, nor did he do this for himself, he did this for the men and women who were held prisoners within the Abh empire.

“Admiral De Bruyn.” Bill Adama said in his usual raspy voice. “The Abh do not see you or your rule as legitimate. The Emperor has made it clear, that Cain, and her successor are not recognized as the government of the Thirteen Colonies.”

He reached up and took off his glasses, and looked at the Emperor, then Gaf’ton. There is only one real way to expedite the situation. I accept your offer, and well bring the remnant home, on condition that the articles are restored within the ninety day time limit. No excuses, ninety days starting now.”

He looked at the Emperor, and then Gaf’Ton. “You have all been very gracious, but right now it is time to set aside our prides. I would like to pick up the Colonial citizens from your camp as soon as possible, including the Dornies, since you do not see them as Colonial. I will allow Admiral Gaf’ton here to board the Galactica as an observer from the Abh empire.”

Turning back to De Bruyn, he sighed. “You need to keep your ships on high alert. I know Metaxas, he is a good man, but he will pursue this war to it’s bitter end. If I were you I would set the fleet on high alert and prep your home forces for an attack. Earth is very much at risk, as is Mars and Nova Louisiana.”

Admiral Adama then turned toward the Emperor, “Does the Abh Empire now accept the current this deal, and will they allow the Galactica to take the crew of the Isis home?” he asked Gaf’ton and the Emperor.

(OOC: Phew done. Ok please feel free to post again)

About the time Nhur-Galladu would be landing aboard The Big Gun, sensors would pick up multiple wormhole signatures. In a sphere around the Colonies, several hundred apertures opened at the same moment in history. Each rip in the space-time continuum opened to allow a single ship through before disappearing in a flash of sensor static. In total, over nine hundred wormholes appeared spaces evenly around Colonial space, each positioned exactly spaced so the emerging vessel was in its assigned post for the Quarantine Zone. Six entire fleets now took position to enforce the order of Protection imposed by the Ta’Nar Warlord.

Three fleets were evenly spaced out over the upper hemisphere of Colonial Space with overlapping territories allowing neighboring fleets to shift their areas of responsibility to assist others. The same tactic was used for the lower hemisphere of Colonial Space so there was no route left open. The Dreadnaughts took positions upon the hemispheres, ready to shift to any hot spots as needed. The ships engaged Space Minus powertaps and literally glowed with energy.

Moments after arriving, sensors peering deep into space, both dimensional and mundane came to life. To the electronic ears of the Colonies, the sky was literally alive with activity from every direction. The ones that witnessed the Ta’Nar proclamation would know they were keeping their word and had brought in the rest of their military might. With the two fleets already on location, the addition of six fleets meant the totality of the Ta’Nar nation had arrived. It would be easy to see they were serious about keeping their word.

Of the two fleets which were already there, the first kept up repairs but at this moment their work was in outlying areas, mostly making sure the environment had not collapsed before it had a chance to establish itself. The Kythons steered clear of any population centers so as not to influence their patient indirectly. The other fleet remained within T-Space, ready to offer reinforcement if someone was foolish enough to try attacking.

Emperor Masaki, this is Admiral Metaxas of the Independent Colony of Tauron. We have intercepted your transmission. Tauron, a new and free Colony would like to thank you for your moral support of our plight and current situation. It is a shame that I am sending this to you under such circumstances, and that the Coredian people and that of any Colony have not spoken together in a long while under a banner of peace.

We are aware that your intentions are well founded, and unlike Admiral De Bruyn who seems to have put his love of the Abh above that of Earth and the other Twelve Colonies, will not tell you to frak off as you might say. Tauron would like to officially ask for your aid in this manner, to bring about a calm and peaceful resolution to this crisis. Be aware that direct intervention is unwise as the Colonies are currently being locked down by Earth SSR.

We however at Tauron would wish for you to continue pressuring the Abh to releasing the hostages that they have wrongfully taken. As a token of our gratitude, we will within the hour release to you the name of the battlestar where your wife is being imprisoned. Warstar Ares out.
When I received this message, I was astonished. They know where my wife is! Soon, I can see her again!

Calm down, buddy. Rash actions won't help her or anyone else.

But--

If you want to see her again, no drastic movements! Use that thing that you probably forgot about: diplomacy.

I didn't forget about it! But all right...I will.

I decided to send a message back.

To Admiral Metaxas of Tauron:

I thank you for your message and implore you to not do anything drastic or unwanted, lest all possible chances for peace break down. Let us all resolve this peacefully. I will expect your message in an hour. Also, please inform me of the reasons for this situation that has unfolded. I need to get the full story.

~Emperor Daniel Masaki

After I sent that message, I decided not to send De Bruyn a reply immediately, but would wait until I get the name of the Battlestar Katrina is held on. In the meantime, I sent the Abh a message.

To: Emperor Debeusec of the Abh Empire
From: Emperor Daniel Masaki of the Imperial Republic of Coredia

In a less demanding tone than my public message, I would like to ask you for a high-level diplomatic meeting to talk about the unfortunate events that have occurred of late. If you accept, I will send my Uncle to you to conduct this meeting. Contrary to popular belief, I will not involve the rest of the GFFA at this time. It would be just the two of us. Will you agree to this?

And then another one to the Big Man himself:

To: Premier Robert Macintyre
From: Emperor Daniel Masaki

What the hell is going on, Robert? I get set to take out my sister and this lands in my lap! I'll back off from the GFFA thing since I have bigger fish to fry, but I can't get head or tails over what's happening over there! Help me out! T_T

Ron Burgundy: Ladies and gentlemen, can I please have your attention. I've just been handed an urgent and horrifying news story. I need all of you, to stop what you're doing and listen.........

.........Cannonball!

--Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy


Admiral De Bruyn nodded and kept a straight face. He recognized Adama's skepticism, and knew that the Old Man, given the events that had landed his predecessor in power, was understandably skeptical of the situation now faced before him. Plus, it was admittedly unusual to see an honest, professional Colonial--little wonder why Adama took it at face value.

"Understandable, Admiral Adama. Having only recently come from the People's Navy, we are fully cognizant that the Abh Empire sees the United Colonies, at most, as a protectorate of the New Dornalians and at worst, a collection of warlords." Turning to the Emperor and Gaf'ton, he said simply, "Rest assured, the situation will be rectified."

De Bruyn then finished that with a message to all in the room, "Democracy will be restored in ninety days, and Metaxas will learn I am just as dedicated as he in pursuing this fight to its logical conclusion. To do any less would be unacceptable."

He then coughed and said simply, on Adama's admonition, "A good idea. I will see it is done."

---------

JRCCC, San Diego, Earth SSR

"Rob, another message. It's from Coredia."

Robert MacIntyre could be seen massaging his temples, sighing over two things. First, why this had to happen now, and two, why he had the sudden urge to down an entire bottle of whiskey. This was a lot to handle, and his illogical side told him to drown his sorrows. But, his sensible side, which was admittedly in control right now, somehow kept him from ordering whiskey. Something told him this stuff was better handled sober.

"ROB!"

Looking up at Carla, he said, "Patch it through."

To: Premier Robert Macintyre
From: Emperor Daniel Masaki

What the hell is going on, Robert? I get set to take out my sister and this lands in my lap! I'll back off from the GFFA thing since I have bigger fish to fry, but I can't get head or tails over what's happening over there! Help me out! T_T

The emoticon couldn't help but make him smile. He then got up and opened a channel.

"Easy now, Danny. I'm just as pissed as you, and it's not the withdrawal symptoms talking.

I'll give you the short version, since I'm in the thick of this little hurricane-- a lot of this is gonna be guesswork, since I've been only getting sporadic comms from my man down there, reports from the news, and JRCCC feeds.

Basically, the Abh hit Isis after it goes into their lands--jury's still out on what the hell happened to get it to D'hara, the Abh claim Cain was assaulting them, telemetry and exercise data says its an accident, but who knows--only that it got to the point where a bunch of sailors who got pissed off at Cain mutinied. Those are the men currently interned, they're the survivors. Judging by the comms traffic to and from Abh space from De Bruyn's ship, it seems he is in the midst of hot and heavy negotations.

So then, De Bruyn takes power after Cain's disappearance. And I'm guessing then in order to make sure things don't get crazy and end up fucking the Colonies over, he somehow managed to get the Colonial Fleet to not fight them. Well, 99% of them. One colony, Tauron, gets pissy, and their man Metaxas was detected making some really angry transmissions to his people and moving a lot of wargear. Hence, the lockdown.

Also, apparently, my woman down in the Quorum, or Senate or whatever they got for a legislature down there--too pissed to remember--managed to get them calm enough to vote no on a declaration of war, by correctly pointing out that if they did shit to the Abh now, they wouldn't get another shot. Word says she offered them a shitload of aid--People's Congress is gonna love this! Anyway, the Tauronese delegate gets pissy, and leaves.

Now, the UC has officially become Pre Apocalypse Los Angeles, circa 1992. We got reports of rioting everywhere, and apparently religious violence on Geminon. And, the soldiers--Colonial and Dornalian--are moving in. Some time has passed, but it seems Metaxas ain't interested in budging, although traffic indicates the stopping and detention of some raptors. I've authorized De Bruyn to use extra men and ships to get the situation under control, and he's called up a lot of good people..."

The klaxons sounded, and the High Alert sound rang out. As Mac looked around, De Bruyn's face could be seen in the monitors, and after a brief, heated chat, Mac shouted, "You got Home Guard authorization Divert them to guard Earth, Mars and Nova Louisiana!" Turning to some aides, he shouted, "And find me some lawyers and polisci majors and JAG officers and POs, NOW! Shit just got real!"

He then returned to the message.

"Sorry about that...he's placed us on High Alert. And recommending me to move troops to Earth, Nova Louisiana and Mars, something about the Tauronese sharks that didn't get snared from that net possibly finding those juicy targets, and looking for people to....restart the democracy? Hell, Danny, I'm gonna be busy making history. Gonna have to call back."

The transmission finished, it was sent to Danny M before shit could get too real.

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

Waiting for Nhur-Galladu was the Political Officer of the vessel, who saluted and said, "Sir, I am Political Officer Ernst von Tschwerin of the People's Navy. I have been authorized to speak in Admiral De Bruyn's stead, as he is tied up at the moment with pressing diplomatic concerns."

He then bowed and led the Ta'Nar avatar to a meeting room with a map, saying, "What do you have for defending our borders so far?"

Both Gaf'ton and Debeusec knew the inevitably of Adama's agreement to De Bruyn's proposition. It was the way of things and few landers could stay away from their homeworlds for long. Such was not the case for the Abh but having dealt with so many humans in the past, it was understandable to them.

Gaf'ton looked to the Emperor for his blessings. The head of the Clyuve royal family merely nodded his head which conveyed all that the Imperial Admiral needed to know. Gaf'ton turned back to face Adama, his one eye staring back at the man that looked older than him but in reality had most likely not even lived half of Gaf'ton's life time.

"We accept though grudgingly. I personally would feel more at ease if there was a fleet of Star Forces ships beside Galactica on this endeavor. Regardless, the Colonial prisoners will be released to you while we will send the Dornalians back to Earth. And I would be honored to be there with you on this mission."

Emperor Debeusec stood and walked down the dias to clasp Adama on the shoulder. "May the stars be with you then and do keep in touch. We are not so evil as the rest of the universe makes us out to be. May whatever gods the other races worship save them if any harm comes to you or the Imperial Admiral. They may be able to hide from their gods, but they will not be able to hide from us."

Indeed his words were not hollow since the entire Cain ordeal could have gone very differently. Instead of one Warstar being destroyed, it could have been worlds until the perpetrators were brought to justice. The countless lives that it would have taken to reach that goal were irrelevant in their eyes if their government was not willing to cooperate.

An attendant knocked on the great doors outside the throne room then quietly entered. "Excuse me your Majesty, but there are two messages for you. Both are from the Coredians."

Debeusec gave a small smile to the pair. "You should prepare for your trip since there seems to be a battle brewing in this very room. Politics and war are not so different, though I imagine political battles can be more gruesome."

Gaf'ton bowed to the Emperor and took his leave with Adama. Once they were out of the room, Debeusec returned to his throne and plopped back down as a holographic screen flashed open before him displaying both messages. There was no one around so he could allowed a light laugh at the distinct difference between the two messages. The need for politics was beyond the Abh as they preferred honesty above all else since it mattered little to them what others thought. The Emperor contacted his assistant and had her copy the message that he dictated.

"Very well, Majesty. Private channel?"

Debeusec thought for a moment then shook his head. "No need, if anyone wants to read this, then let them. I suppose there are plenty of others that have nothing better to do than be concerned with the political health of the galaxy. Still, maybe we can force someone's hand with this. Like a moth to the flame."

"Yes, Majesty."

To: Emperor Daniel Masaki
From: Emperor Abriel Nei Dobrusk Paryunu Debeusec, 38th Emperor of the Abh Empire

The Abh Empire respectfully refuses all demands save one. Since this is not Coreworlds that we are dealing with, your demands or requests mean little to us and have no relevance here. You are also not appraised of the situation though I understand the political need for such statements.

You may, however, send whatever diplomat you wish. Bring the Galactic Federation if you wish. We have broken no laws within the Alliance so such threats are empty to me. I will meet with whoever you send all in good time.

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

Aminta shrugged, and replied, "Figures. And you wonder why my momma told me to never trust The Man....." Leaning her head onto her hand, she then asked, "So yeah. What's it like being hecto-commander? I'm sure its busier than being Master Chief Petty Officer."

Ceilia leaned back in her seat just as her attack vessel entered plane space. "Perhaps, though it would be difficult to compare the two positions. The difference in rank comes in the amount of responsibility that we are faced with. I command a squadron of attack vessels while you command a squad of workers aboard the ship. Both of our decisions effect those that are under our command.

I do have a greater increase in paper work and see more of the higher ups than when I was a Bene Lodair. The food is better also but that's about all I notice."

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

Darth Twilight's ship docked with the battered carcass of the once great Warstar Isis. She was greeted by an honor guard that was appropriate for someone who had elevated their family so high and so quickly, in no small part due to Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton's maneuvering. The Imperial Marines snapped to attention when she set foot aboard the captured vessel.

Almost immediately, she felt a presence within her mind. It was as familiar as the day she received her new ship from the New Sith Order. She knew the Balroggans were involved in supporting the Colonial military but hadn't expected to sense Kythons aboard the ship.

Ignoring the salute, she walked the halls with the marines trailing behind her. She could sense their presence with the power now cut off to the Force Inhibitors as she closed in on where the research teams were working. Jessyka was greeted by a smiling scientist when she finally arrived.

"Ah Countess, I'm glad you could make it on such short notice. We've been having some difficulty discerning what manner of technology some of these devices are but I suspect that you may be able to determine its origin. Also, we've detected a hidden room. We were hoping that you would be able to see beyond the walls and tell us what was inside."

Twilight nodded silently then moved to the steel wall across the room. She removed the black glove from her hand and pressed her hand against the steel. By reaching out with the Force, she could feel something on the other side. Somewhat surprised that they had been hiding all this time, she removed her hand and put the glove back on.

"You need to have everyone evacuate this ship immediately. There is a munitions charge on the other side of the wall set to blow at the slightest disturbance of the room's pressure. Take whatever it is you are working on and do your research in the safety of your own labs."

The scientist looked somewhat surprised by the remark. "I'll have to have a team stand by to set the reactor to blow."

Twilight waved her hand dismissively. "No need for that. I will program the drive to head for the nearest sun once everyone is off."

Nodding slowly, the scientist began to call out to his other teammates to begin gathering up their materials and whatever samples they had. Twilight doubted the Colonials had the capability to create such a bomb on such short notice but it seemed to pay off for her as the others scurried out of the room and began heading for the docked shuttles. Once everyone was gone and she could not sense anyone near her level, Darth Twilight walked back to the wall and gently knocked. There was no trap or explosive but simply a room that had been kept secret.

When the panel slid open, Jessyka saw the familiar features of Kythons and a Childer. Unlike the rest of her people, she did not hate the Kythons with the passion to destroy them on sight, as were standing orders for any such strain. She, instead, merely saw them as another existing creature in the universe and thus tolerated them.

"Please make your way to the port side shuttle bay and board my ship while the others are too busy leaving to notice you. I will take you home after this ship is destroyed."

Maya was startled when the door slid open. The Admiral had set aside the room for her personal meetings with the Childer and her Kython escort and the two thought it was safe from intrusion so they were trying to wait out the crisis that struck the ship. The Childer had gotten flashes of anger and fear from all over the ship as she cast her mind about to see what was happening. With all the emotional turmoil, she decided it was safest for the two of them to remain where they were for now, later they would try to get out and return home. It seemed like the time was right for the minds she felt were leaving the vessel. The ship was nearly deserted and she was about to go over to the wall and open the door so she and Ktzzazs could make their way to one of the flight decks, infect an area to make a vessel, and then get the hell out of Dodge.

You can imagine the surprise when the panel opened and there stood an Abh dressed completely in black.

"Please make your way to the port side shuttle bay and board my ship while the others are too busy leaving to notice you. I will take you home after this ship is destroyed."

Even though Maya was a member of the diplomatic corps, she was completely speechless and only stood there staring at Twilight for a few seconds like she was an apparition before she “found her tongue”, even though Childer did not possess them. It was Ktzzazs who broke the silence first.

“Mistress, I no like what happen here. You take home?”

Even though the words were not spoken, Twilight who had been given the ability to speak with the Kythons as part of her duties at the NSO would understand the emotion behind the thoughts she received from the Kython. Of course she also understood as solitary individuals, they are easily viewed as child-like but as they combine their minds into a Shipmind, like her and Darth Sunshine’s ships, the intellect becomes quite resourceful.

Maya walked over to Ktzzazs and cuffed him. “She just said that, don’t you listen?”

“I sorry.” The Kython looked depressed, if you knew what to look for. After a few seconds he perked up again.

“You take home now? I happy. Where your ship?”

Ktzzazs lifted off the floor and folded his legs under him and began to fly toward the waiting ship. Maya followed along behind, slightly floating but scanning ahead to make sure they did not encounter anyone.

OOC: Just replying to Abh for now. Waiting for OG. Don't post until he does.

All right, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up.


--Gloria Swanson as Norma Desmond, Sunset Boulevard

IC:



"We accept though grudgingly. I personally would feel more at ease if there was a fleet of Star Forces ships beside Galactica on this endeavor. Regardless, the Colonial prisoners will be released to you while we will send the Dornalians back to Earth. And I would be honored to be there with you on this mission."

Emperor Debeusec stood and walked down the dias to clasp Adama on the shoulder. "May the stars be with you then and do keep in touch. We are not so evil as the rest of the universe makes us out to be. May whatever gods the other races worship save them if any harm comes to you or the Imperial Admiral. They may be able to hide from their gods, but they will not be able to hide from us."

...Debeusec thought for a moment then shook his head. "No need, if anyone wants to read this, then let them. I suppose there are plenty of others that have nothing better to do than be concerned with the political health of the galaxy. Still, maybe we can force someone's hand with this. Like a moth to the flame."

"Yes, Majesty."

De Bruyn nodded, and leaned back as the Abh gave assent to the endeavor. However, the message to the Masakis made him wince slightly, and he said, in a businesslike but conciliatory tone to Emperor Debusec, "With all due respect, Your Highness....I already reminded the Coredians this is our business in definite and in frankly much less genteel terms. I would think there is no need to be that redundantly insistent."

Coughing, he then said to Gaf'ton, "As for you, Imperial Admiral, if you desire, I will have an appropriate arrangements prepared for your use when you board the Galactica. If you are to stay in country for a long period of time, it would behoove you to perhaps go incognito, as I stated earlier, to prevent discovery and save everybody headaches. Perhaps a cover as the liasion from the Workers State to the Remnant, with appropriate staff, People's Navy rank and insignia, and backstory?"

Ceilia leaned back in her seat just as her attack vessel entered plane space. "Perhaps, though it would be difficult to compare the two positions. The difference in rank comes in the amount of responsibility that we are faced with. I command a squadron of attack vessels while you command a squad of workers aboard the ship. Both of our decisions effect those that are under our command.

I do have a greater increase in paper work and see more of the higher ups than when I was a Bene Lodair. The food is better also but that's about all I notice."

Aminta laughed. "Me, its hard work. The food was nice. Hell, its nice in general. I just fill out forms, get a bigger paycheck, and keep things running. The people are okay. You got some nutballs who think they know everything, but lemme tell ya Benny--you slap them as the law of the Navy allows you to--'only as you need to, and never a closed fist or foot'--and they know they're nothing special."

She then leaned back and said, "Still, it must be nice commanding a whole ship. Or a whole squadron. I personally don't think I could do it. I mean, tabletop pieces are one thing. But the real thing? Nah. I'd end up with all of them killed."

Shuddering at the thought, Aminta then lept forward, and said with a smile, "On a lighter note, this term in prison's given me time to think, and to unwind. I've even got time to write a movie script, based on what happened. I'm almost done with it. It's called 'Contents Under Pressure.' Y'know, because we mutineers were under pressure. The other guys think it won't sell, but I know it will. After all, I had one of the other guys help me to touch it up, so it works well enough for a two hour feature."

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

The rioting and the situation made one Father Mulcahy, the head of the Jesuit Volunteer Corps mission to the United Colonies (informally the Mulcahy Mission) concerned. Seeing the chaos around him on the television he had in his office, he sighed. The Lord hadn't intended for people to hurt each other so--he had taught his congregation that, he had told many other congregations that much in his travels. And, he had seen that firsthand in Ireland, his homeland, that violence had solved nothing--the same brutal war that shaped the Sensei of the Temple of Greater London had shaped Father Mulcahy as well. And now, word that some of his own priests in Geminon had begun a so-called "Inquisition" in reprisal for the awful massacres by the Chaos cultists was but the grim icing on the cake. He merely prayed silently, "Lord--don't let this be another Belfast."

He then got up, grabbed a megaphone from a supply closet, and walked up to the Motor Pool of St. Xavier's Mission in Saggittarion. He then flagged down a nun, saying, "Sister, I need your help."

The nun said, "Yes, Father?"

Leading the nun to the vehicle he wished to use, Mulcahy asked simply, "Can you drive this?"

"A SUV...." The nun looked at the simple Land Rover Defender 90 with a convertible top, and then said, "I can, yes. It's got a British-style drive, but I'm sure I can drive it. I just have to watch where I'm going."

"Good." Mulcahy smiled and said, "Let's go, now. We have a mission to do." He then said, looking about, "Excuse me. I have to do something. Start the auto." Several minutes passed as the nun gunned the engine, but Mulcahy reappeared with two assistants, and said, climbing into the back with them, "Let's go. Into the nearby environs and fast."

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

Father Mulcahy could then be seen later, driving through nearby townships experiencing rioting. Standing tall as the convertible top was lowered, the two others kept watch as Mulcahy began to speak through his bullhorn.


"WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE DOING!? Why are you harming your fellow man!? If you have grievances, settle them like civilized men and women, not like barbarians! Will looting and shooting and bricks and killing solve anything!? NO! Listen to me! Whatever your grievance is, this violent behavior will only make it worse! Have I told you nothing in recent times!? Have I told you nothing of peace!? Please, remember my admonitions, they're not just for me own health on Sunday Mass! They're for yours!

GO HOME! STOP THE KILLING! GO HOME!

Earth SSR
New Dornalia/ United Colonies of Kobol
Buenos Ares - World Soccer Cup

“Oh fuck that.” Selina yelled, as she took her popcorn and threw it at the screen. “You call that a kick?” she yelled out in anger as the gata stood up in anger fuming at the screen in front of her. Her husband, Johan smiled as he reached across the table, with a chip and some queso dip. “Well what did you think was going to happen. You know Iran can’t do fuck against England.” he said mocking her soccer rage.

“Oh shut the fuck up.” she said to him as she sat back down growling to herself in anger. “Did anyone ask you to speak?”

Johan just smiled, as he took his chip and began to munch on it. The score was tied 4 to 4, and in the last quarter, it was all coming down to this. Reaching over and grabbing his can of Red Stripe, he swigged it, as he knew the game was all but over. He watched, as George Hinderson got the ball. The man was nearly invincible on the field, as he kicked the ball down the field, jumping over the low kicks, and pushing down past the line. His speed and skill easily made him the MVP, and probably the best damn soccer player of all time.

“Sorry honey, looks like your team is about to get it’s ass kicked.” he said mocking her, as he took another sip of his beer.

Selina hissed at her husband, as she reacher her hand back and in a furry back handed him. His head went back, as pain shrieked through his face. She smiled as she watched his head fly back and instinct take over, as his hands reached up to his nose. “You little shit.” he yelled out, as he pulled his hands back. “You broke my fucking nose.”

“Stop being a bitch, and talking shit then.” she yelled at him as she reached down and grabbed a chip.

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

Teberian Stadium
Four Kilometers away:

It was the first time that the city had been chosen to hold the soccer world cup, and the city welcomed the event with open arms. The stadium was backed, as the noise rose to the heavens about Buenos Ares carnal pastime came to the city. The yelling, the screaming the rooting, all of it washed over the crowd, as George Hinderson took the ball. The crowd watched anxiously as the ball was passed moving down the field. All of the cameras that were broadcasting the event across the globe were on him. Like a cheetah, he ran down the field, and he knew he had to score. Fifty three seconds were left on the clock, as he could feel the wave of excitement. The deafening roar over shadowed all, as it fueled him to push even harder. All he could see was the goal in sight. The lights of the stadium were bright as he missed the massive flicker of lights coming from the sky above. The noise was too loud, as it over came the sound of thunder.

The end of the game was in sight, as he moved closer to the goal. Sweat dripped off his face, as he moved closer towards the goal. Only the goalie was all that was left, and England would win. It was more of just personal pride, it was national. This was not just for him, but for God and Country. He eyed his opponent as he got closer, each slight kick bringing England closer to victory. It was now or never. George, released the ball at the goal with all the precision and skill he could muster.

Then the lights went out... and every television screen went to static.

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

Twenty Minutes Ago:

Five hours had come and gone, as Earth, and the other eleven colonies ignored Tauron’s demands. They believed they were safe, they believed they were secure. The FTLi’s still ran across the Colonial system, hampering all FTL within the Twelve Colonies. De Bruyn though didn’t know or remember one simple aspect of the Colonies. There were other battlestars outside of the system.

It was going to be one hell of a night, as flickers of light appeared over Buenos Ares, and Johannesburg, as a squadron of Mark IX vipers and two raptors appeared in the night sky.

Raptor 1701:

The board was green as Lt. Frisk came out of the jump. She sighed as she began to check the systems. “ECM Countermeasures check. Draidus Scramblers check. FTL, is spooling, draidus is clear, we are a go.” she announced anxiously to the pilot. She dreaded this. Two days ago she would have never guessed that she would be on this mission to attack their own.

“Alright Lovebug.” the pilot said to her, using her call name. “Viper squadron this is Raptor 1701. The light is green, hit the hard deck, and proceed to target. Maintain radio silence in 3, 2, 1.”

The vipers and raptors began a quick combat descent, down towards the unsuspecting city. Lovebug took a moment, and looked out the cockpit window, as the raptor and her viper escorts quickly flew after burners screaming towards the city. The city shined like a gem, all of the lights from the building shining like a fine gem. “It is beautiful.” she said as she turned to her pilot.

“Yeah well this won’t kill it.” the pilot said, as he maintained the ball on the horizion. “We are just sending them a message that is all.”

“And what of those in ICU, or with pace makers?” Lovebug asked.

“Well, let’s just hope that their gods will take them.”

She sighed as she looked back at the draidus. “We are within deployment range. We have a firing solution, FTL is spooled.” she told the pilot.

The pilot nodded as he reached down into the firing controls. “Target acquired confirmed. Releasing the package.” he said.

Two streaks launched from the Raptor, leaving a smoke trail behind them as they flew towards the gems of their targets.

“Weapons deployed.”

“This is Raptor 1701, all vipers jump to rendevous co-ordinates now.”

As the missiles reached their target, the attackers were quickly gone. The missiles hung over head for a second, as the warhead released it’s invisible wave of destruction. The lights quickly went out over Buenos Ares, as well as Johannesburg, as the EMP did it’s job. Cars stopped, lights went out, computers were fried all across the city.

(OOC: Part II coming soon. This post was done with ND's permission)

Tommy DeVito: You mean, let me understand this cause, ya know maybe it's me, I'm a little fucked up maybe, but I'm funny how, I mean funny like I'm a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh, I'm here to fuckin' amuse you? What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny?

--Goodfellas

OOC: Quote suggested by OG. Other quotes used are from Robocop, Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back ( both were modified for the situation), and "Still," by the Geto Boys (aka the song used when the dudes from Office Space smash the printer.). All quotes indicated with single quote marks.

IC:


JRCCC, San Diego, Earth SSR


As Robert MacIntyre was coordinating ops, klaxons began to blare once more in the War Room. One of the techs could be heard screaming, "Sir, something's happened to Buenos Aires and Johannesburg. All contact has been lost!"

Rob rushed to the tech's console and said, "You sure?"

The tech doublechecked, and said, "Well, not exactly. All civil radio, TV, HoloNet, everything. Gone. The only thing online are local military installations, and some government and civilian outfits with EMP hardening. However, everything else is down."

Robert then said, "Patch me through to the local commanders, NOW!"

Two viewscreens of frantic looking People's Militia commanders could be seen, and they were greeted with a simple, "What's going on?" by MacIntyre?

The first one, from Buenos Aires, named "Cassinelli," spoke.

"The situation is critical. We've set up roadblocks and checkpoints--the people are restless, and the Federal District Police and city police are reporting that they're strained to the breaking point trying to keep order. We've already had looters and some shootings. The city is in panic--the soccer game in the middle of the city, we've barely managed to prevent that from exploding into a riot.

All civilian power and electronic equipment is out. We've managed to be spared the worst, due to EMP hardening. However, our civilian cousins aren't so lucky. We've had to divert all our emergency generators, radios, and comms to keep the hospitals, police, and utilities and airport running. We've already had a near mid-air collision.

Doctors are effectively in the Stone Age, we've already had some people die on us, we're doing our best--the base hospital is overflowing, since we're the only one with power, aside from Santa Lucia Hospital and the Federal District Police.

I've ordered reinforcements from Cordoba, Montevideo Barracks and even as far as Tucuman. But this will take a while. We will try to stabilize the situaiton--but we need help."

Likewise, Johannesburg had a similar story.

"We've had all kinds of issues. We're also strained everywhere. Highway Patrol, everybody--we've pressed them into service to keep order along with nearby units and we've also pooled our tech to keep vital services running. I've declared a State of Siege, but that hasn't stopped us from having gunfights with local gangsters eager to take advantage of the blackout. Hospitals are also overcrowded, and if you think BA is bad, we've got it worse in terms of infrastructure damage. We need help."

MacIntyre at that point, asked, "Do you know who did this?"

The two shook their heads, saying, "This is gonna seem wierd. Before the Shutdown, we detected comms traffic and unknown aircraft for just a second before it all went downhill--being on High Alert does that to you."

Mac then said to the tech, "Wire these requests for help to any and all available People's Militia and regular Army units. Tell them that they are to be deployed to assist these areas at once, get them repaired."

Both men and women from the disaster zones thanked MacIntyre, and MacIntyre said, "Both of you--declare states of Emergency if you haven't done so. I will get you help. And send me the comms you got."

He then said to himself as they left, "Shit. Put all People's Navy and Colonial Fleet elements in the Solar System on patrol, and declare a state of Martial Law for Earth. I want aircraft watching the skies, I want defense platforms in orbit scanning the stars, I want ships scanning the space lanes. If anybody even so much as sneezes incorrectly, we'll know!"

"Only De Bruyn can order that much, sir."

De Bruyn was then called, and informed.....

-----------

When he heard the news that two cities on Earth were hit with EMP attacks, the old Boer dropped his jaw at the dialog window, and said to MacIntyre, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Evidently, our High Alert measures weren't enough to stop a group of saboteurs with EMP bombs from shutting down Buenos Aires and Johannesburg. Judging by the traffic both briefly detected and the signatures, we think it was Metaxas."

The last city hit home for De Bruyn. He had a father in a care home in "Jo'burg," and he had studied at college there in his youth, before joining the pre-Dornalian Transvaal Air Force, and his cousin worked in the city...

The thought that Metaxas's men had endangered his countrymen, his family....

Something in him welled up with rage, and it wasn't jsut because of the sneak attack. If his father died as a result of Metaxas's gambit, then Metaxas would have blood on his hands that De Bruyn was all to eager to clean off at Metaxas's expense. The Old Professional did indeed have a side that respected the sanctity of the home, and this constituted not less than an invasion of it.

"Tell the Picon Detachment that I authorize their participation in the defense of Earth. They are to make regular patrols. THe same goes for the People's Navy."

MacIntyre noticed the change in expression on De Bruyn's face, and said, "You okay?'

"Metaxas has made this personal. I'll try not to, but...he is making it hard not to make htis personal."

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

Thus, Picon's detachment near Earth was ordered to defend Earth from attack, and appropriately roused, Earth was now watching for anything. As this occurred, MacIntyre issued a speech. Visible on the airwaves and on all public transmissions, he was clearly angry.

"Just a few hours ago, the planet of Earth was suddenly and deliberately attacked by an unknown force. The cities of Buenos Aires and Johannesburg have been hit by Electromagnetic Pulse blasts, and are now currently in the Dark Ages. We are working to restore power and bring them back to normal.

Judging by the use of EMP weaponry and the circumstantial evidence provided by People's Militia commanders before the event, we can only deduce this act was committed by saboteurs under the command of none other than Admiral Horatio Metaxas.

Because of this action, I have no choice but to declare a State of Emergency around the Solar System. All shore leave is cancelled for People's Navy units in the area. They are to begin patrols immediately. All Fleet Aviation Arm units are to watch for further aerial saboteurs.

I also announce that effective immediately, I have declared, by Executive Order and due to these heinous attacks upon civilian and governmental installations at the cradle of the Workers State, Admiral Horatio Metaxas and all persons collaborating with him Enemies of the People. Admiral De Bruyn is authorized to utilize any and all resources he needs from the People's Navy he once commanded--and still commands--to bring Admiral Metaxas to justice.

I also would like to tell Admiral Metaxas the following.

If you are out there, know this. You had been given a chance by Admiral De Bruyn to stand down peacefully. You had been given a chance to be nice, and play nice. But you didn't take it.

Instead, you decided to be a smartass. 'What's your damage? You've got a sick and twisted world perspective,' Admiral, hurting innocent women and children so you can make a point about whatever you wanna moan about.

So now, we're going to get even. Because it 'seems I gots to lay the law down.' And I will lay the law down.

So, lemme quote an old movie--and modify it slightly--when I say to you and your gang, 'All you motherfuckers are gonna pay. You are the ones who are the ball-lickers. We're gonna fuck your mothers while you watch and cry like little bitches. Once we get to Tauron, and find whoever authorized that attack on Earth, we're gonna make 'em eat our shit, then shit out our shit, then eat their shit which is made up of our shit that we made 'em eat. Then all you motherfucks are next.'

And then for kicks, maybe we'll imprison you on criminal charges. Either way, 'dead or alive, you're coming with us!'


The speech was greeted with enthusiasm in New Dornalia--unsurprisingly, people liked it when MacIntyre was as angry as they were. However, Carla was not so pleased. "Rob.....what the hell?" was all she could say.

Teberian Stadium
Four Kilometers away:

It was the first time that the city had been chosen to hold the soccer world cup, and the city welcomed the event with open arms. The stadium was backed, as the noise rose to the heavens about Buenos Ares carnal pastime came to the city. The yelling, the screaming the rooting, all of it washed over the crowd, as George Hinderson took the ball. The crowd watched anxiously as the ball was passed moving down the field. All of the cameras that were broadcasting the event across the globe were on him. Like a cheetah, he ran down the field, and he knew he had to score. Fifty three seconds were left on the clock, as he could feel the wave of excitement. The deafening roar over shadowed all, as it fueled him to push even harder. All he could see was the goal in sight. The lights of the stadium were bright as he missed the massive flicker of lights coming from the sky above. The noise was too loud, as it over came the sound of thunder.

The end of the game was in sight, as he moved closer to the goal. Sweat dripped off his face, as he moved closer towards the goal. Only the goalie was all that was left, and England would win. It was more of just personal pride, it was national. This was not just for him, but for God and Country. He eyed his opponent as he got closer, each slight kick bringing England closer to victory. It was now or never. George, released the ball at the goal with all the precision and skill he could muster.

Then the lights went out... and every television screen went to static.
If anything could make a Coredian drop everything and watch Holovision for hours on end, it was the greatest soccer tournament on any planet, streamed live on Holonet from New Dornalia. Thousands had purchased tickets to the games and millions more are watching it from the comfort of their homes or other convenient areas.

Today, it was England vs Iran at the new stadium in Buenos Aires and most Coredians favored England. It was the final minute of the game and the score was 4 to 4. George Hinderson, who had plenty of fans in Coredia, had the ball. He sped down the field, narrowly missing that defender and began the final run to the goal. The Iranian goalie looked scared but determined, moving as Hinderson moved. The noise of the crowd rose to a crescendo with each step that Hinderson made.

Suddenly, he shoots!

Suddenly, the lights went out.

As did the cameras and everything else.

The crowds blinked for a few seconds, their eyes vainly adjusting to the sudden loss of bright light. Then...no one knew who started it...they began to panic in the darkness...

Meanwhile, the millions of Coredians watching at home and elsewhere (including yours truly) blinked at the sudden loss of the game. Calls were soon made to the various stations carrying it, only to get the usual 'we are experiencing technical difficulties. Please stand by.' spiel.

It wasn't more than a few hours later when irate soccer fans finally got an explanation...and it was far from what they expected.

"Just a few hours ago, the planet of Earth was suddenly and deliberately attacked by an unknown force. The cities of Buenos Aires and Johannesburg have been hit by Electromagnetic Pulse blasts, and are now currently in the Dark Ages. We are working to restore power and bring them back to normal.

Judging by the use of EMP weaponry and the circumstantial evidence provided by People's Militia commanders before the event, we can only deduce this act was committed by saboteurs under the command of none other than Admiral Horatio Metaxas.

Because of this action, I have no choice but to declare a State of Emergency around the Solar System. All shore leave is cancelled for People's Navy units in the area. They are to begin patrols immediately. All Fleet Aviation Arm units are to watch for further aerial saboteurs.

I also announce that effective immediately, I have declared, by Executive Order and due to these heinous attacks upon civilian and governmental installations at the cradle of the Workers State, Admiral Horatio Metaxas and all persons collaborating with him Enemies of the People. Admiral De Bruyn is authorized to utilize any and all resources he needs from the People's Navy he once commanded--and still commands--to bring Admiral Metaxas to justice.

I also would like to tell Admiral Metaxas the following.

If you are out there, know this. You had been given a chance by Admiral De Bruyn to stand down peacefully. You had been given a chance to be nice, and play nice. But you didn't take it.

Instead, you decided to be a smartass. 'What's your damage? You've got a sick and twisted world perspective,' Admiral, hurting innocent women and children so you can make a point about whatever you wanna moan about.

So now, we're going to get even. Because it 'seems I gots to lay the law down.' And I will lay the law down.

So, lemme quote an old movie--and modify it slightly--when I say to you and your gang, 'All you motherfuckers are gonna pay. You are the ones who are the ball-lickers. We're gonna fuck your mothers while you watch and cry like little bitches. Once we get to Tauron, and find whoever authorized that attack on Earth, we're gonna make 'em eat our shit, then shit out our shit, then eat their shit which is made up of our shit that we made 'em eat. Then all you motherfucks are next.'

And then for kicks, maybe we'll imprison you on criminal charges. Either way, 'dead or alive, you're coming with us!'

Two emotions spread across the Coredian Nation as the words seeped into its conscious.

Shock. This Admiral Metaxas ordered the EMPing of our soccer game? Right at the point of knowing who would win?! He dares to spite every single soccer fan in the galaxy?!? He attacked New Dornalia, our #1 ally?!?!

Anger. How dare he do this!? The Taurons have gone too far! They will pay! They will pay! THEY WILL PAY!

In an instant, any sympathy for the Taurons' plight have vanished along with the lights. No matter if the Abh were somehow behind the current civil war. No matter that De Bruyn wants the Coredians to stay out of Colonial affairs, as if they could be stopped now. To deprive the Coredians of their national pasttime was an insult more terrible than any atrocity the Empire could have inflicted and now they wanted vengeance. Nay, they wanted blood.

Macintyre's speech was given a virtual ovation from thousands of Coredians through email. But it wasn't enough. People began to turn out onto the streets, fists raised in the air, shouting slogans that spread like wildfire.

"We want Metaxas' head! We want Metaxas' head!" "Kill 'em all, Mac!" "Kill 'em all, Mac!" "Tauron Must Die!" "Tauron Must Die!"

The final slap on Metaxas' face by the flames of Coredian anger would actually have been laughable if they weren't so serious. Someone had the bright idea to open a bounty on Metaxas' head in the pattern of the Bailey Bounty. Soccer fans and Coredians in general began to pool their money into the account, which was cleverly named the Metaxas Murder Money Account. The news media quickly picked up on that and began running a counter connected to the account, and astonishingly (at least to the talking heads) it grew fast. In less than ten minutes, there was already a million credits out for him, dead or alive, and it could only grow faster.

And the Emperor's response? The Emperor's Office hasn't said anything of yet, but it did signal to the press that he will speak very soon, perhaps within the next hour and a half. Many hoped that the Emperor, a known soccer fanatic himself, would get his ass in gear and truly be the voice of the people's will...

As Coredians and Dornalians rioted over the interruption of their prized soccer game, Woodians just shrugged at the conversion from soccer game to snow on their Holovids. Unfortunately, the best way to incite Woodians to riot had far more to do with the Stanley Cup than the World Cup, so the only reaction that the sudden blackout elicited consisted of a bit of channel changing. It was not until MacIntyre had managed to get a message off that Woodians realized the situation was more serious than that...

"Just a few hours ago, the planet of Earth was suddenly and deliberately attacked by an unknown force. The cities of Buenos Aires and Johannesburg have been hit by Electromagnetic Pulse blasts, and are now currently in the Dark Ages. We are working to restore power and bring them back to normal.

Judging by the use of EMP weaponry and the circumstantial evidence provided by People's Militia commanders before the event, we can only deduce this act was committed by saboteurs under the command of none other than Admiral Horatio Metaxas.

Because of this action, I have no choice but to declare a State of Emergency around the Solar System. All shore leave is cancelled for People's Navy units in the area. They are to begin patrols immediately. All Fleet Aviation Arm units are to watch for further aerial saboteurs.

I also announce that effective immediately, I have declared, by Executive Order and due to these heinous attacks upon civilian and governmental installations at the cradle of the Workers State, Admiral Horatio Metaxas and all persons collaborating with him Enemies of the People. Admiral De Bruyn is authorized to utilize any and all resources he needs from the People's Navy he once commanded--and still commands--to bring Admiral Metaxas to justice.

I also would like to tell Admiral Metaxas the following.

If you are out there, know this. You had been given a chance by Admiral De Bruyn to stand down peacefully. You had been given a chance to be nice, and play nice. But you didn't take it.

Instead, you decided to be a smartass. 'What's your damage? You've got a sick and twisted world perspective,' Admiral, hurting innocent women and children so you can make a point about whatever you wanna moan about.

So now, we're going to get even. Because it 'seems I gots to lay the law down.' And I will lay the law down.

So, lemme quote an old movie--and modify it slightly--when I say to you and your gang, 'All you motherfuckers are gonna pay. You are the ones who are the ball-lickers. We're gonna fuck your mothers while you watch and cry like little bitches. Once we get to Tauron, and find whoever authorized that attack on Earth, we're gonna make 'em eat our shit, then shit out our shit, then eat their shit which is made up of our shit that we made 'em eat. Then all you motherfucks are next.'

And then for kicks, maybe we'll imprison you on criminal charges. Either way, 'dead or alive, you're coming with us!'

At this, Woodians were more disappointed than outright angry and riotous. Tauron was perhaps the easiest Colony, other than New Dornalia, for Woodians to sympathize with, mostly because of their distrust of the Abh. However, no Woodian in his right mind would condone the particular War Crimes, namely those of collective punishment and frying civilian hospitals, that the Tauronese fleet now stood accused of committing. These conflicting considerations led Woodians, for once, to be calmer than their neighbors; whereas they had rioted in the general direction of Coredia before, now they simply watched footage of Coredian riots on the Woodian News Network.

However, the Dornalians had still been Evil Woody Thoughts' ally since even before Woodians had ever heard of the United Colonies...

Somewhere in orbit

Admiral Makaryk watched MacIntyre's missive from the Star Destroyer's officers' mess; upon hearing MacIntyre's voice, his neck craned to watch the holoprojection of the Dornie Premier. The Admiral scowled, for he, too, had respected and admired the Tauronese for standing up to the untrustworthy and treacherous Abh. Until now.

From his interpretation of the message, it seemed the raid was over, the damage already done, though of course he could not be sure. Whatever he did, he would send a Warbird into the Sol system, under cloak, to recon and give the all-clear. Better yet, the ship he happened to be on right now had that capability...he kept forgetting about that, at least when bored, anyway. In their righteous anger and wrath, Dornies could forget about the practical...which right now seemed to be rebuilding the power grid and treating any medical emergencies spawning from shuttered hospitals, in the cities of Buenos Aires and Johannesburg.

To that end, he quickly scribbled out a message to Premier MacIntyre and Admiral DeBruyn in between bites.

TO: PREMIER MACINTYRE, ADM DE BRUYN
FROM: ADM MAKARYK

HAVE JUST LEARNED OF EMP RAID AGAINST EZE AND JNB.
CAN SEND ENGINEERS AND MEDICS IMMEDIATELY.
WISH TO ASSIST IN REPAIRING YOUR ELECTRICAL GRID, AND PROVIDING
INTERIM HEALTH SERVICES WHILST REPAIRS ARE MADE.
PLEASE DIRECT YOUR REPLY TO THE UNCHRISTENED STAR DESTROYER.

Of course, Dornies knew just what "Unchristened Star Destroyer" meant. Upon discovering that Woodians had tested the prototype ship for the Immortal-II class without any kind of ceremony to name it, the needling over cheap-ass penny pinchers had never stopped. Admiral Makaryk had decided to play along, by forbidding any such ceremony in relation to this particular ship's registry. It was still only officially known by its serial number...but for now, Admiral Makaryk just grabbed a piece of fruit off his tray to eat later, before he got up to send the message through Evil Woody Thoughts' hyperpulse generator network...

TO: PREMIER MACINTYRE, ADM DE BRUYN
FROM: ADM MAKARYK

HAVE JUST LEARNED OF EMP RAID AGAINST EZE AND JNB.
CAN SEND ENGINEERS AND MEDICS IMMEDIATELY.
WISH TO ASSIST IN REPAIRING YOUR ELECTRICAL GRID, AND PROVIDING
INTERIM HEALTH SERVICES WHILST REPAIRS ARE MADE.
PLEASE DIRECT YOUR REPLY TO THE UNCHRISTENED STAR DESTROYER.

Of course, Dornies knew just what "Unchristened Star Destroyer" meant. Upon discovering that Woodians had tested the prototype ship for the Immortal-II class without any kind of ceremony to name it, the needling over cheap-ass penny pinchers had never stopped. Admiral Makaryk had decided to play along, by forbidding any such ceremony in relation to this particular ship's registry. It was still only officially known by its serial number...but for now, Admiral Makaryk just grabbed a piece of fruit off his tray to eat later, before he got up to send the message through Evil Woody Thoughts' hyperpulse generator network...

The only advantage of not being too good a housekeeper is that your guests are so pleased to feel how very much better they are.

--Eleanor Roosevelt

JRCCC, San Diego, Earth SSR

"Coded signal from abroad. It's HPG.....Woodian."

MacIntyre then said, "Onscreen."

Reading the message, he then opened a channel to the Big Gun, and asked De Bruyn, "You got a copy of this? Seems the Woodians want to help out."

De Bruyn replied simply, as he was busied managing the effort, "Yes, I also recieved a copy. How fares the repairs and ops down in Jo'burg and Buenos Aires?"

MacIntyre then opened another pair of transmissions to Cassinelli and his South African counterpart, and asked, "Status report."

Cassinelli replied, "Limping along. Reinforcements are moving in, if slowly. Medical situation barely stable. We're still trying to keep basic services up and going."

"Same here."

MacIntyre nodded and cut the transmissions, and then said to De Bruyn, "Well?"

"Tell Makaryk what's going on. I'm a bit busy at the moment--I'll allow it, but I'll leave it up to you. Do try to keep the cussing down." De Bruyn then, ending with the reference to Mac's speech, cut the line.

Makaryk's ship would then recieve the reply:

"TO: Admiral Makaryk
FROM: Comrade Premier MacIntyre

Situation in Johannesburg and BA is, in medical terms, "Stable But Critical," with essential services and public order barely maintained by local authorities with EMP Hardening as repairs commence.

Will allow Woodian Medical and Engineering teams in an advisory capacity to assist local People's Militia commanders--that would be Colonel Arturo Cassinelli in BA and Colonel Gerald Tambo in Jo'burg--in stabilizing situation and permanently restoring essential services. This includes electrical grid and medical facilties. Have resources on hand, but grateful for offer as local commanders obviously faced with task of juggling multiple harrowing tasks in post-Apocalypse, and could use any and all help.

The only advantage of not being too good a housekeeper is that your guests are so pleased to feel how very much better they are.

--Eleanor Roosevelt

JRCCC, San Diego, Earth SSR

"Coded signal from abroad. It's HPG.....Woodian."

MacIntyre then said, "Onscreen."

Reading the message, he then opened a channel to the Big Gun, and asked De Bruyn, "You got a copy of this? Seems the Woodians want to help out."

De Bruyn replied simply, as he was busied managing the effort, "Yes, I also recieved a copy. How fares the repairs and ops down in Jo'burg and Buenos Aires?"

MacIntyre then opened another pair of transmissions to Cassinelli and his South African counterpart, and asked, "Status report."

Cassinelli replied, "Limping along. Reinforcements are moving in, if slowly. Medical situation barely stable. We're still trying to keep basic services up and going."

"Same here."

MacIntyre nodded and cut the transmissions, and then said to De Bruyn, "Well?"

"Tell Makaryk what's going on. I'm a bit busy at the moment--I'll allow it, but I'll leave it up to you. Do try to keep the cussing down." De Bruyn then, ending with the reference to Mac's speech, cut the line.

Makaryk's ship would then recieve the reply:

"TO: Admiral Makaryk
FROM: Comrade Premier MacIntyre

Situation in Johannesburg and BA is, in medical terms, "Stable But Critical," with essential services and public order barely maintained by local authorities with EMP Hardening as repairs commence.

Will allow Woodian Medical and Engineering teams in an advisory capacity to
assist local People's Militia commanders--that would be Colonel Arturo
Cassinelli in BA and Colonel Gerald Tambo in Jo'burg--in stabilizing situation
and permanently restoring essential services. This includes electrical grid
and medical facilties. Have resources on hand, but grateful for offer as local
commanders obviously faced with task of juggling multiple harrowing tasks in
post-Apocalypse, and could use any and all help.

It did not take long for Admiral Makaryk to receive the message. He figured he probably should inform the Dornies not to be terribly surprised to see his vessel decloak. He did not want to go in, after all, only to find an ambush.

TO: COMRADE PREMIER MACINTYRE, ADM DE BRUYN
FROM: ADM MAKARYK

STAR DESTROYER WILL APPEAR IN YOUR SYSTEM, CLOAKED, IN APPROXIMATELY
NINE STANDARD MINUTES, THIRTY SECONDS.
PURPOSE OF CLOAK: ASCERTAIN DISPOSITION OF ANY LEFTOVER
ENEMY FORCES. CLEAR REST OF FLEET FOR ARRIVAL.
I DO NOT WISH TO RISK AN AMBUSH.
REST OF FORCES WILL FOLLOW APPROXIMATELY FIFTEEN MINUTES
AFTER ALL-CLEAR GIVEN.
WILL TRANSMIT REQUIRED IFF UPON DECLOAK.

Of course, there were already medics and engineers stationed aboard Makaryk's ship, as could be expected from the fourth-largest and fourth-most powerful ship in the Woodian Navy...but Admiral Makaryk still had to take about forty-five seconds to order the required mobilization for the rest of the fleet. Some vessels needed the specialty staff and equipment transferred from groundside, after all. However, once THAT order was given, Makaryk only had to worry about the short hop to Terra...

"Cloak vessel," he ordered, having been dragged to the bridge by the necessity of communicating via HPG. "Jump to Terra in thirty seconds...mark."

True to orders, the superstructure of the ship seemed to vanish from view outside of the bridge viewport, leaving only the stars the black, sporadically lit wedge of the ship would normally obscure. The view, however, did not last long. Also per Admiral Makaryk's orders.

Upon arrival, Admiral Makaryk merely looked around, collating whatever data could be gleaned from passive observation, without being too revealing of the presence of his ship, to any enemies that MAY be in the system...

The good guest is almost invisible, enjoying him or herself, communing with fellow guests, and, most of all, enjoying the generous hospitality of the hosts.

--Emily Post

A quick HPG reply to MacIntyre's message let the Dornies, both MacIntyre in his War Room in San Diego and De Bruyn on the Big Gun know that their guest had arrived. De Bruyn shrugged, and quickly replied:

"TO: Admiral Makaryk
FROM: Admiral of the Fleet Christiaan B.T. De Bruyn

Acknowledged. Please maintain observer status and expressly deliver all advisory personnel, and maintain compliance with all other elements of my Non-Interference Order unless specifically authorized."

Besides that, Makaryk would notice the system was abuzz with activity. The Red Banner Fleet, helmed by one of the mighty Mao Zedong Mark IVs, could be seen making patrols between Earth and the Moon, along with one of the two Kerensky class vessels, gifted by the Clans in honor of their alliance. The other could be detected near Mars, along with another beehive of vessels.

A vertiable armada of People's Navy vessels could be seen stationed at points in the star lanes in the Solar System, making patrols around designated points en masse. If he had HoloNet access or radio/TV access, he would pick up news footage of recovery efforts, Marinesko fighters moving nervously in the skies, and the Picon Detachment of the United Colonies holding solidarity with the Red Banner Fleet.

War is hell, and a civil war is the most brutal of them all. It is a war where brother kills brother, fathers kill sons. No matter which side wins, they only lose.

Admiral Metaxas gritted his teeth as the order went out. How could it come to this? How in the hell could Earth turn it’s back on the twelve sisters, in favor of the blue haired devils? Was not blood supposed to be thicker than water? He could only guess that they had spent way too much time with the likes of the coredians, the great betrayers...

“Sir.” one of the junior officers walked over to him in a hurry. He held a report in his hand, and quickly handed it over to his superior officer. “The Battlestar Persephone has just reported in. The message to Earth was received.” he said as he handed a small stack of papers to his superior.

Metaxas hated the thought of what was done, and what may be brought forth. He knew that this moment, this one single act could reinforce his point of view, or bring the house of cards crashing down. He touched the report and then pushed it away. “Looks like we are all in.” he said to his XO.

His XO nodded to his commander. “Sir, this is a hand that I am not sure we can win.”

“It doesn’t matter now. What is the status on the fleet?”

One of the aids picked up another stack of papers. BSG-27 is in route sir, while the Battlestars Freya, Osiris, and Delphi are still in dock at Scorpia. Their CO’s report a total blockade of the shipyard by Scorpia fleet, with light reinforcements from Virgon and Earth.

Metaxas lowered his head at the news. Three battlestars were blocked in, of all the gods damn luck. He gritted his teeth at the situation. Why in the frak did everything move so damn fast? He needed more time to prepare, he needed more time to have a steady plan, and instead now he was left with a scattered fleet. “Give me a smoke.” he said as he looked to his XO.

Shit was moving too fast for his liking, as he light the cigarette freshly given to him. He took a quick drag, as his mind raced on what to do next. He needed to buy more time, and perhaps get the damn Dornies to life the FTLi. That was the key to the whole plan.

“Sir.” his XO asked. “What is the next step?”

Metaxas looked down at the papers, and then shook his head. “Only thing we can do. Fight them til we can’t. Order Tauron Fleet to break orbit, and set course for FTLi Inhibitor three, here.” he said as he pointed his hand towards the red line, to the ship near Scorpia. “Inform them weapons free, but try to keep EMP’s in the shells unless fired upon with explosives. I do not want to kill Colonials, even Dornies unless we have to.”

Then he turned towards the map of Caprica. “Caprica is a different matter. Order our ships there to begin focus on BSG- 32. Same conditions apply, but we need to disable those ships for a clear break. Focus on the flag, the Gorgan.”

“And what of the Big Gun?”

Metaxas sighed as he looked up at his XO. “We give De Bruyn what he wants. Set course for Picon, and as soon as we are in range, prepare a firing solution on the Big Gun.”

“Sir, A quarter of the fleet is at Picon. The Ares can’t take on that many ships.” his XO told him plainly.

“I understand, but De Bruyn will not pass up the chance to bring us down. Have BSG -27 change course to intercept. The plan is to keep that bastard busy til Tauron fleet can bring down that FTLi.”

“Yes sir.”

“And get me the Coredians, and Earth on the line. I have a promise to keep.”

To Daniel Masaki:

Although matters of late have caused a rift in our agreements, Tauron wishes to keep it’s promise to Coredia. Empress Katrina Masaki is currently held prisoner on the Battlestar Calypso of Virgon Fleet. Status: Healthy

To the People of Earth and the Twelve Colonies:

Metaxas held the phone tightly as he gritted his teeth. He knew that public outcry against him would destroy any message he could address to the Remains of the United Colonies. Earth with it’s silver tongue and deep pockets had bought the other eleven colonies, and had perpetuated the lies of the Abh. It was a losing battle, but one he new had to do to buy time. He just needed a little longer. With a hesitant voice, he began to speak.

“This is Admiral Metaxas of the Independent Colony of Tauron, to the peoples of the United Colonies of Kobol. I have just been informed of a devastating EMP attack against the Colony of Earth SSR. Truly if any losses of life have occurred you have my deepest condolences and sympathy.

I have spent my life as many of the men and women of the fleet, including the red fleet, protecting out people’s way of life, as well as our culture and unique identity. Many of you will not believe me when I say this, but loss of Colonial life, whether Tauron, Dornie, or even Saggitarion is truly the worse of all possibilities.

I offer my condolences to the families of any who were injured or killed in the EMP attack against Johannesburg, or Buenos Ares. To those watching the soccer game, I also offer my deepest sympathy at the loss of your score board. However I there are much larger concerns of late which I am noticing.

It would seem that when one thousand three hundred and eighty three Dornies were either killed, Missing in action, or taken prisoner of war, by their dear friends the Abh Empire, not one of your politicians cared.

Your president MacIntryre didn’t lift a finger, or make any statements of protest, as the Abh shot your people, imprisoned them, or destroyed a warship that was part of our great nation. Yet when a soccer game is erased from existence, the international community, as well as the people of Earth become so enraged that they lose sight of the truth. Truth is, when the attack order was given it was with a heavy heart.

I choose an EMP as a last resort, to wake up the Colonies to the greater concern. I know many of you are angry, because you are stuck in traffic, or can’t watch your soap operas, but that is nothign compared to the occupation Earth is enacting on the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. The system is blockaded, and FTL is unresponsive. Materials that are needed, such as food, water and medicine are currently being held outside the red line. You may be upset by two cities, but that is nothing compared to Twelve planets.

I had given De Bruyn, the newly crowned Emperor, who has total dominion of the Red Fleet and the United Colonies forces a time limit to prepare to stop holding the twelve sisters hostage. Instead all we got was inactivity, and bribes to our quorum to keep the fleets in line.

I want peace to exist. I want the Dornies and Colonials to live together in peace. If any doubt these words, remember, those raptors could have had nukes on board. I am not a monster who wishes to harm any of you. All Tauron wants is to do what De Bruyn and Mac will not do. Avenge your citizens from their betrayal by their allies, as we too have suffered. This is my final statement to the populace of the United Colonies of Kobol. May the gods bless you.”

He hung up the phone and sighed.

“Do you believe that will buy us any time?” his XO asked.

“Doubtful. Set condition one, and send a basic order to all Tauron fleet, outside the FTLi line. Inform them that they are on their own til we can re-establish FTL. Fight the war anyway they can.”

“Yes sir.”

(Part III is coming soon, please be patient, I have a lot to write about.)

A quick HPG reply to MacIntyre's message let the Dornies, both MacIntyre in his War Room in San Diego and De Bruyn on the Big Gun know that their guest had arrived. De Bruyn shrugged, and quickly replied:

"TO: Admiral Makaryk
FROM: Admiral of the Fleet Christiaan B.T. De Bruyn

Acknowledged. Please maintain observer status and expressly deliver all
advisory personnel, and maintain compliance with all other elements of my
Non-Interference Order unless specifically authorized."

Besides that, Makaryk would notice the system was abuzz with activity. The Red Banner Fleet, helmed by one of the mighty Mao Zedong Mark IVs, could be seen making patrols between Earth and the Moon, along with one of the two Kerensky class vessels, gifted by the Clans in honor of their alliance. The other could be detected near Mars, along with another beehive of vessels.

A vertiable armada of People's Navy vessels could be seen stationed at points in the star lanes in the Solar System, making patrols around designated points en masse. If he had HoloNet access or radio/TV access, he would pick up news footage of recovery efforts, Marinesko fighters moving nervously in the skies, and the Picon Detachment of the United Colonies holding solidarity with the Red Banner Fleet.

After several moments of cloaked silence, the Woodian ship, its captain and sensors officers satisfied that nothing was amiss in this system (however FUBAR elsewhere), other than two fried cities, shimmered back into visibility. Immediately upon doing so, its transponder transmitted the required IFF codes, identifying it as the Woodian ship bearing Admiral Makaryk, to assuage any trigger-happy Dornalian gunners. Fortunately, the vessel decloaked with its shields up, though due to the cloak, only at half strength. Still, enough to soak up any stray weapons fire fired by the antsy Dornalian grunt here and there.

Upon revealing itself, the vessel immediately burned for Terra's Southern Hemisphere, its navigators calculating an orbit that would take it directly over Buenos Aires and Johannesburg at an altitude not to exceed 1500 kilometers from the planetary surface. Shortly after the initiation of engine burn, Admiral Makaryk sent the message back home, ordering the rest of the operation to deploy. By the time the backup arrived, the Immortal-II should be entering Earth orbit, and beginning its slingshot around the Southern Hemisphere...

As medics and engineers frantically scrambled to the six DropShips nestled in the hangar, laden with medical and electrical equipment loaded during the hyperspace jump, Admiral Makaryk sent two final messages. One, a short acknowlegement to De Bruyn that Woodians were not planning on stepping on any Dornie diplomats' toes, and those that did would be properly dealt with by the Admiral himself. The second one happened to be the only one to which he expected the Dornalians to reply...

He knew that his men had used the hyperspace and burn time quite wisely. In fifteen short minutes, supplies for a full four field hospitals had found their way from sickbay into the hangar DropShips. The Dornies might be interested in knowing about that...

FROM: ADM MAKARYK
TO: COL CASSINELLI, COL TAMBO

PLEASE FORWARD ANY MASTER PROCEDURES IN PLACE BY WHICH YOU WISH US TO ABIDE.
ADM DE BRUYN HAS GIVEN PERMISSION TO DEPLOY ENGINEERS AND MEDICAL STAFF.
CAN DEPLOY TWO FIELD HOSPITALS TO EZE AND TWO TO JHB.
ADDITIONAL SUPPLIES INBOUND, TO MAXIMUM OF NINE FIELD HOSPITALS PER AFFLICTED CITY.
PLEASE INDICATE WHERE AND HOW YOU WISH THEM DEPLOYED,
AND HOW YOU WISH THE ELECTRICAL GRID TO BE REBUILT.
IN ABSENCE OF GUIDANCE, REQUEST PERMISSION FOR ENGINEERS/MEDICS TO TAKE REASONABLE
AND PRUDENT ACTION NECESSARY TO STABILIZE THE GRID/HEALTHCARE SYSTEM.

Earth SSR:
Battlestar Poseidon, Flag of BSG- 57, Picon Detachment.

“How in the frak can this shit get any worse.” Commander Ladia, thought to herself as she watched the Draidus screen over the skies of earth. Remorse, hurt, and shame were all that she could feel as she watched carefully in the skies above the thirteenth tribe of humanity. How in the hell had it come to this? What in the frak was wrong with Tauron?

Stubborn bastards, they always had been a pain in the side of Picon, and Caprica, but this was way above the line, even for those thick headed bastards. She shook her head as she put her hands to her eyes.

Her eyes felt heavy, and she really began to grow weary of this entire situation. She just closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Sir, quadrant around Earth and Mars is clear.” an enthusiastic young junior officer said as she turned to her CO with a smile.

“Very good lieutenant.” Ladia said as she watched the board. Order the Hades, and the Reah, to set course for Titan, maximum sublight.”

“Sir.” This is Poseidon Actual, to the Hades And Reah. Commander Ladia wants you to set course for Titan. Maintain condition one, and report back on anything unusual.” the junior officer said in her usual perky voice.

All she could do was shake her head at the ignorance of youth. War was a bitch, and here she was, happy and giddy, like a frakkin Southern Californian Valley girl. Fraking greens.

“Draidus Contact.”

With those words Ladia perked up as she looked above to the screen. “One ship, sir....” the draidus officer yelled out.

“Well what is it Lieutenant.” She asked annoyed as hell as the red blip saying unknown appeared over Earth.

“Sir, it is a Mark II.”

Ladia ran over to his desk, in complete disbelief. “That is not possible Mark II’s can’t jump. Where is it’s battlestar?”

“I do not know sir, I didn’t know the fleet used Mark II’s still?”

“We don’t.”

On Patrol:

Three Vipers began to accelerate as the call came out towards the bogey. “Poseidon, Road Runner, I have a visual on the bogey.” the lead viper said, as it accelerated as quickly as it could towards the Mark II. “Request Weapons free.”

“Any signs of hostilities” the com officer on the Poseidon asked.

“Negative. She appears to be sitting there.” Road Runner said as she got closer to the wayward vessel.

“Attention, Mark II, this is the Battlestar Poseidon. You are ordered to land on the starboard hanger deck. Failure to comply and we will open fire. We repeat You are ordered to land on the starboard hanger deck. Failure to comply and we will open fire.”

“Sir.” Road runner quickly massaged back to the battlestar. “She is not responding. Engines are dead it appears, I am going in for a closer look. Six Gun, take six. If it twitches, blow the frakker to hell.”

Road Runners viper quickly shot past the old Mark II. It’s exterior looked like it had been through hell and back. Scorch marks on it’s side, and part of it’s wing was missing.

“Poseidon, Road Runner. Damn thing looks beat all to hell. Looks like laser marks on the side, and it is heavily disabled. One pilot inside, appears to be unconscious. What the frak?” she said as she examined the Viper more closely.

“What is it Road Runner.”

“Sir.... the markings on the tail. It is one of Galactica’s.”

Commander Ladia took notice as she looked up to Draidus. “Galactica’s what in the hell is it doing out here, and where is the Galactica?” she asked. Turning to her com officer, Ladia ordered, “Get that ship onboard here now.”

“Road Runner this is Poseidon. Retrieve the Viper.”

“Sir that is not possible. It is in a decaying orbit, and is in free fall to earth. Attention Dornie vessels, Viper is stranded and is in free fall request tractor beams to retrieve the vessel. Coodinates are 103, 214 Carom 45. Distance 530K kilometers, speed of descent 500 KPS.

The guests are met, the feast is set. / May'st hear the merry din.

--Samuel Taylor Coleridge

OOC: Written with the help of OG. Also, quotes Rocky V.

Mac heard the message, as did De Bruyn. And as Metaxas leveled his charges, MacIntyre threw his shoe at the screen saying, "Fuck you! Fuck you! Turn that fucking thing off!"

With that, the other techs, Carla, Jack, and the numerous people in the War Room knew that MacIntyre's wrath had been unleashed. If it wasn't obvious from the speech, it was obvious now. Maccy never liked insults, and never liked to be challenged on what he saw as gospel. Now that Metaxas intended on this, he was roused.

"Jesus Rob, calm down!" Carla said, grabbing him.

De Bruyn then flashed into the room, and said, "Did anyone else get that?"

MacIntyre said simply, "Fucking yes, I got that! What am I, fucking chopped liver!!? Just some bitch to steal on?"

"He's trying to provoke you, Rob, calm the fuck down!" Carla shook him with all her might, until MacIntyre shoved her aside. He then walked up to De Bruyn and said, "Did you do something with the prisoners?"

De Bruyn nodded and said, "Yes. I have secured their release. Both Colonial and Dornalian."

"Thanks." He then stormed out into the PR Room, and then issued his rebuttal. Breathing in and out, he then smiled and said simply, an undercurrent of anger running through his voice and creative powers working at their best:

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Workers State, of the United Colonies of Kobol--

As you are all aware, the Enemy of the People known as Admiral Horatio Metaxas has accused my Administration and Earth of negligence and criminal behavior. He accuses me of a conspiracy of silence, where your sons and daughters are fed to some Moloch for no good reason.

Well, I have good news. My Administration has done something. It's called 'Admiral De Bruyn Securing The Release of Colonial And Dornalian Prisoners.' How you like that, Metaxas? How do you like finding out that you've just talked the biggest load of bullshit on National Television and International Television in a good long while, while one of my people successfully talked his way into getting the sons and daughters of the United Colonies back?

Also, how do you like acting like a certain now-deceased Admiral of the Fleet? Yeah, I went there. Well, if you really were like her, you'd remember that when the Coredians exploded that singularity weapon on Caprica, she didn't propose going on some crusade to kill them all. She had brains. She had sense. Neither of which you have, considering that you want to go on some fool Crusade that will kill us all. In fact, you're nothing like her. You only share the same world.

And on that subject, you believe that De Bruyn is acting against the wishes of the United Colonies. You believe that Earth alone is occupying you. I'd pause and recall for a moment, Admiral, that De Bruyn was Cain's right hand man. Cain chose him to be her second. She respected him, and when De Bruyn exercised his rights, as Cain had done so many times before, you decided to go it alone like a spoiled brat who didn't get his binky. When we all should be putting our heads together to get things done, you do some stupid.....SHIT that's going to hurt all that your ancestors fought and died for in those Cylon Wars. The solvency and the unity of the United Colonies.

And, yes, I've read about the Cylon Wars. They don't sound like fun. You want to bring that down on your fellow Colonials, be my guest--but I will do my damndest to make sure you don't do so. Yes, the soccer thing was admittedly excessive. But the fact you harmed other Colonials--something you vowed you'd never do--in the name of division is unforgivable. That's why I made you Enemy of the People. And that is why I, and the other Colonies, must break you.

Thank you and good night."

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

The Big Gun

So far, De Bruyn had been faced with more challenge than one man ever could in a lifetime. So far, he had to contend with a war of words between his ex-boss and a rogue Admiral, and what looked like hostile movements on Tauron's part. He hated MacIntyre's fury sometimes--while his passion for the people was good, sometimes, there were times to avoid "keeping it real." This was probably one of them, and now, he had to contend with newly exploding combats all over the place.

Such as Caprica, Scorpia and what looked to be Picon soon.

"Admiral--this is Commodore Gordon. We're in a meeting engagement with some damn Tauronese. They're gunning for the Gorgan. We're moving to begin counterattacks and defenses, but they're coming in hot."

"This is Commodore Sato. We've got a situation. Some would be blockade runners. We'll try to get the Scorpians and the Virgonese to tighten the blockade and enforce the orders, but this is gonna be a tough one."

De Bruyn nodded and said, "Good. Stand fast. You are authorized to use all necessary force and tactics to stop the enemy. And I mean necessary--this is not to be a massacre."

He then closed the lines and said to his aide-de-camp, "Lyndie, order all ships to begin moving on the Tauron Forces. We cannot risk them gaining the initiative."

-----------

Over Caprica

"SHIT!"

The rumbling of the enemy railcannon shots dinged Gordon's vessel, but he remained resolute. Instead of fretting, he merely barked, "Status report!"

"Minimal damage. Tauron Detachment is coming in hot. Seventeen Mercury Battlestars, assorted escorts," said his Tactical Officer. "Scans indicate they're mostly unharmed."

"Damn. Those fuckers are strong...." Stroking his chin, Gordon said, "Issue an order to the Lin Biaos and the smaller battlecruisers--have them tie down the Mercuries, candycrane claw formation. Have our heavy vessels warp in close on their flanks, and begin dumping fire. And charge the D3G. We need to show them that we're strong too. And tell the Capricans to begin moving to assault their flanks, at all due strength!"

--------

FROM: ADM MAKARYK
TO: COL CASSINELLI, COL TAMBO

PLEASE FORWARD ANY MASTER PROCEDURES IN PLACE BY WHICH YOU WISH US TO ABIDE.
ADM DE BRUYN HAS GIVEN PERMISSION TO DEPLOY ENGINEERS AND MEDICAL STAFF.
CAN DEPLOY TWO FIELD HOSPITALS TO EZE AND TWO TO JHB.
ADDITIONAL SUPPLIES INBOUND, TO MAXIMUM OF NINE FIELD HOSPITALS PER AFFLICTED CITY.
PLEASE INDICATE WHERE AND HOW YOU WISH THEM DEPLOYED,
AND HOW YOU WISH THE ELECTRICAL GRID TO BE REBUILT.
IN ABSENCE OF GUIDANCE, REQUEST PERMISSION FOR ENGINEERS/MEDICS TO TAKE REASONABLE
AND PRUDENT ACTION NECESSARY TO STABILIZE THE GRID/HEALTHCARE SYSTEM.

Tambo and Cassinelli forwarded what they needed to the Woodians. Besides expressly declaring that the Woodians were to report to Cassinelli and Tambo and that they had to obey all local laws and that the two commanders were to have the last word--although they could have the latitude to make independent decisions if they needed to, which fulfilled the last request--and simply saying that the two cities needed to have their power grid rebuilt to restore power to comms, public works, transport hubs (rail, air and road), medical services and civil authorities, and anything that needed refridgeration.

As for the hospitals, Cassinelli had the hospitals placed in Villa Lugano, Villa Soldati, and generally areas of Buenos Aires that were either working class or strained. Likewise, Tambo did similarily when he asked for placement.

“Sir that is not possible. It is in a decaying orbit, and is in free fall to earth. Attention Dornie vessels, Viper is stranded and is in free fall request tractor beams to retrieve the vessel. Coodinates are 103, 214 Carom 45. Distance 530K kilometers, speed of descent 500 KPS.

At every crisis in one's life, it is absolute salvation to have some sympathetic friend to whom you can think aloud without restraint or misgiving.

--Woodrow Wilson

In reply, a Lin Biao Mark II Heavy Cruiser moved to assist, replying, "Poseidon Actual, this is Little Hen. Moving to perform SAR. Over and out."

The ship moved dangerously close to the atmosphere, and recovered the wayward Viper using a tractor beam in moments, as its insides buckled and deftly as possible. As it moved the shuttle into its small hangar bay, normally for shuttles, a team of medics and flight crew awaited what was inside...

Blown Away (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLoZhF3-7zM)

Admiral Adama nodded towards De Bruyn’s purposal. It was a good sound plan for keeping the Admiral of the Abh safe and sound through such turbulent times as this. Even though on Galactica, the Colonial Remnant saw a side of the Abh rarely seen, their good and compassionate side. The Emperor was right, the Abh were not evil creatures bent of blowing off the atmosphere of any who they crossed paths with. They were people, and like all people they were full of pride, and made mistakes. Not that you could ever get them to admit it though publically.

The old man knew that time was of the essence here. If Tauron had it’s way, then the Colonies would be at war with a much larger force, all by the ramblings of an overzealous Admiral who was hell bent on avenging his dead commander. Clasping his hands in front of Gaf’ton, the old man motioned for him to come. “We should get going back to Galactica. And we will need the coordinates of the POW camp where the prisoners are being held. We can not waste much time, if we wish to contain the situation. De Bruyn I fear will not be able to contain the situation by himself.” he told the Imperial Admiral.

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

Battlestar Amphitrite
In Orbit of Earth SSR

The Amphitrite, named for the wife of Neptune, queen of the ocean, was a beautiful old battlestar. One of the first of the Mercury class battlestars to roll off the line, she was a ship rich in history and tradition of the colony of Aquaria.

Aquaria was a colony that truly honored the military, and it was that backing that Metaxas wanted so badly. You could imagine his surprise when Aquaria decided to go against their instants and join the United Colonies under the banner of peace. Now the only Aquarian battlestar within the Picon Detachment was in the thick of things.

The Amphitrite kept watch over the southern hemisphere of earth as ships began to shimmer to life, seemingly out of no where.

Admiral Jenkins watched the draidus as the new contacts shimmered into existence. Alarms began to sound, as the crew worked as efficiently as they could. He knew that De Bruyn had issued a “Stay the FUCK OUT” order to all nations, that was in effect for the thirteen colonies, and now some yahoo had to come and try to stir the shit even more.

“Draidus contacts bearing 32 Mark 87 Carom 079.”

“Sir. Viper squadrons are in the air, estimated time to intercept six minutes.” another officer shouted at the Admiral. Admiral Jenkins nodded. “Main batteries.” he ordered, “Prepare a firing solution on the intruders main batteries. Load Guns Alpha through Episolon with Salvo, and the rest with EMP.

“Targeting solution is acquired sir.”

Admiral Jenkins turned to his com officer. “Get the Big Gun on the horn. Let them know the Woodians have violated the STAY OFF OUR LAWN order, and request orders.”

Despite the Woodian IFF’s the main batteries of the Battlestar Amphitrite lined up against the Unnamed Star Destroyer. Twenty Vipers from the emergency alert vipers raced towards their target, vigilant against any violators of De Bruyn’s command.

“Sir” one of the junior officers said, as he clasped the mouth piece of the phone, “Viper 3 is asking for orders.”

“Weapons hold until we have confirmation from Big Gun actual.”

(Sorry for the time delay, but it was hard to keep up with the posts last night)

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In Orbit of Caprica

Space light up like the fireworks show over New York City, as the Tauronese Fleet began pounding the Battlestar Gorgan, and her escorts. The Vipers danced around each other like two swarms of bats fighting in a furor over territory.

Commander Henderson, knew the situation was getting desperate, as the Gorgan shook under the hail of fire.

“Oh my gods.” his Executive officer said as he looked up towards the Draidus. “The Sophia just went dead.” he said as he looked to his commander. The ship shook again, and for a moment draidus went blank. Lights began to flicker on and off, under the strain of the combined strength of the seventeen Mercury battlestars.

“Launch, Launch every bird we got. We can’t let them through.” Henderson ordered, as the ship took another hit, and the lights blinked out again.

The Gorgan continued to fire, as their tracer rounds were intermixed with blue and yellow fire. On the port and starboard sides, her fire intensified in a moment of desperation, as she tried desperately to fend off the oncoming vipers and raptors.

“Sir. We just lost blue squadron. Red and Gold are continuing to hold the line, but at the moment, we doubt they can hold the line.” she yelled out.

Henderson looked up, “ETA til Caprican and Dornie forces are in effective weapons range?” he shouted.

“ETA twenty minutes.”

“We don’t have twenty minutes.” Henderson said to himself, as the lights flickered on and off again.

“DITA is gone sir. Port side is reporting multiple hull breaches. New Draidus contacts, sir it is a squadron of raptors, they are coming towards the starboard fight deck.”

Commander Henderson balled his fist up in anger, as he slammed his fist on the table. “So Metaxas thinks he can board this ship. Prepare fast action teams along the flight deck and prepare for boarders. Mr. Faux, fire all main batteries suppression fire, short range.”

“Sir, our vipers.” the weapons officer asked.

“Do it!”

Intensity erupted as the guns began to explode close to the ship. The ship soon surrounded itself with bright lights of massive explosions. He knew he had to defend the ship, this ship above all others. If Metaxas got his hands on what was in the brig, he knew that it would change the face of the war. No, he swore to keep her safe.

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Ragner Station
Within the Gas Giant Zeus.

The old station was one of the last ditch installations in the Twelve Colonies. Undefended to keep it’s existence a secret, and held within the gas giant to scramble draidus, the larger station floated easily holding it’s secrets and stores of munitions. It like Scorpia ship yards was a center point of Metaxas’s war, it alone held enough munitions to keep Tauron fleet loaded with ammo, enough to keep them in the war with the Abh, and now the United Colonies for years to come. Gently the Battlestar Medusa slid into it’s dock...”

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Canceron
Trojan Mining Colony.

It was a long day, for Tauri Bolivi, as he wiped his brow. Just another frakkin day. His brow was wet and his body ached from the long day at work. While the Colonies went to shit, all he knew was that he would be worked twice as hard, keeping up the Telium to keep the fleet running.

Although his body protested, he knew at least the pay would be good. Over time, in the union was one hell of a bonus.

He turned towards his bud, a tall bulky man by the name of Joe. “Hey Joe!” he yelled out. “Give me a frakkin cig you slack ass.”

“Frak you too you damn bum.” his buddy yelled back. “What do I look like a grocery store?”

Tauri laughed, as Joe reached into his pocket and pulled out a smoke. His hands were black from mining all day, but in these conditions, it didn’t matter. “So when is Helena getting hitched?” he asked his friend as he light the smoke.”

“Next month. I still can’t believe she is marrying him. I mean a damn Sagitarrion. What is this world coming to?”

Tauri nodded, “Yeah no shit. Don’t these kids know any better? Mixing with the Sags, if my boy ever did that, I would have to disown him.” the old miner said as he took a puff off the smoke.

“Yeah, well gods willing she will grow a brain, before then.”

Tauri chuckled lightly, “Yeah, I can see...” then he stopped, as the distant noise of shouting, and massive boots came walking down the corridor. Tauri turned to see a contingent of marines walking through the telium mine and refinery. “What in the frak is this?”

Although matters of late have caused a rift in our agreements, Tauron wishes to keep it’s promise to Coredia. Empress Katrina Masaki is currently held prisoner on the Battlestar Calypso of Virgon Fleet. Status: Healthy

It was all that I needed. Checking the status of the Colonies, I noted that only Tauron was rebelling. So far. I smiled thinly as I sent back the secure message I wanted to send before the rioting started.

Thank you, Admiral. As a gesture of goodwill, if you ever decide to flee to Coredia, please feel free to do so in a Raptor, nevermind my people's rioting over the loss of their game and any public statements I make. Mind you, though, it was the World Cup finals, so they're understandably angry about what you did.

Then another message to De Bruyn, equally secure.

Admiral De Bruyn, as much as we'd both like Coredians to stay out of Colonial affairs, it would be regretfully impossible without knowing that the Empress is out of harm's way. We will hold to our promise of keeping our ships out of Colonial space, but please ensure that the Empress is not in any danger. It would break my heart if she was lost.

~HRM Daniel Masaki

PS. I have two questions:

Do you like Calypso and are you a Virgo?

That done, now was the time for my public statement. A little markup for the cameras, the guy rolling in 3, 2, 1...

"My fellow Coredians, a terrible tragedy has occurred today. As you know, Admiral Metaxas has slapped us in the face with his deeds. He has attacked New Dornalia with a devastating EMP. He has ruined the finals of the World Cup. And for that alone, he shall be condemned. Tauron shall receive no aid or comfort from Coredia. I believe Macintyre and Admiral De Bruyn have matters well in hand, so Coredia will once again reiterate it's promise of staying out of the civil war. But I will once again condemn Metaxas in the strongest terms possible and urge a peaceful solution to this civil war. Thank you, and may the Force be with you."

That done, I began to contemplate my next moves...

As Daniel was speaking to his nation, the image blurred and another appeared to superimpose itself over that of Emperor Masaki. The vocals were partially muted so a message could be given to Daniel and any who were watching.

“Emperor Masaki, I am Nhur-Galladu and I wish to inform you of the situation you are intruding into. The Colonies have requested all foreign nations to remain outside their conflict. The Balrogga Empire has not only agreed with their fair request but upped the ante further.”

“The United Colonies has been placed under my complete protection and a quarantine zone has been established to prevent passage of any non-colonial vessel. Any intruding vessel will be tracked down and stripped for scrap metal by my Kythons. Any foreign intrusion of any kind will not be tolerated and will be counted as an invasion of Balrogga itself.”

“The United Colonies has requested the right to settle their differences by their own hand and we will do everything in our power to ensure they have the chance. Failure to realize this will result in massive destruction on your behalf.”

“Think about your actions before you take them; is SHE worth burning your whole nation over? Think about your people first instead of only yourself.”

Nhur-Galladu smiled for a moment before continuing.

“We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.”

The double image faded and the audio feed returned to normal levels.





OOC:


We ALL did agree to keep out of this, let’s be good players and respect their request. I obviously spoke to OG about the content of this post and he asked me to make an IC post reminding everyone of the agreement and hint how out of control things could go. I am not sure if I have the capabilities to actually break into the transmission but it was needed as a plot device to remind everyone of the conditions. I apologize if it caused any inconvenience.

OOC:[/B]


We ALL did agree to keep out of this, let’s be good players and respect their request. I obviously spoke to OG about the content of this post and he asked me to make an IC post reminding everyone of the agreement and hint how out of control things could go. I am not sure if I have the capabilities to actually break into the transmission but it was needed as a plot device to remind everyone of the conditions. I apologize if it caused any inconvenience.

OOC: ND failed to inform me of the extent of this OOC agreement when I asked him if I could come in with a little aid team. Please allow Kobol, myself, and ND to chat. I am willing to delete my posts if it's THAT damn important.

OOC: Nothing personal, Woody. It's just that having spoken to other persons concerned with the thread and owing to the fact I just starte classes, I have decided to take this action to avoid a rather nasty OOC mess.

IC:


If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.

--Harry S Truman

Admiral De Bruyn now began to regret ever allowing MacIntyre to allow the Woodians in. The Picon Detachment had detected the said Unchristened Star Destroyer, and was about to attack it--not to mention the Balroggans, who were rumored to be planning an assault upon the Woodians for the percieved violation of the NIO.

De Bruyn himself was disturbed at the presence of the SSD, since it seemed to be moving men and materiel into Earth. Well intentioned according to the JRCCC transmissions, but frankly the presence of the Unchristened SSD, no matter what reason it was there, was about to make a mockery of his policy and drag in other powers he didn't want.

He quietly sent a stern message to Makaryk.

"Admiral Makaryk--

While I appreciate the effort, your presence in the Solar System has become untenable at this time, as it poses a risk to both Earth, the United Colonies, and Evil Woody Thoughts due to unwarranted outside interference as a result. Please withdraw your warship and all personnel as soon as possible, or they will face all appropriate consequences under international law. Thank you.

Christiaan B.T. De Bruyn
Admiral of the Fleet
United Colonies of Kobol"

OOC: No offense taken. Had I known about this last night, I wouldn't have asked.

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

Admiral Makaryk sighed as he received the order, but he did not particularly care to escalate a war, either. The Dornies, however, knew far more about the intentions of other involved parties than he, and what had only a few minutes ago been clear space swarmed only by Dornalian warships now seemed very hostile.

He wasted no time with a reply; instead he flipped a switch programmed to automatically transmit an abort signal back home. Whereupon pretty much everything in the capital system would grind to a halt; only the Recall Protocol signal carried higher priority within the Woodian Navy. He did wonder how many civilians would die for want of medical care, but that was outside of his hands now.

The only feedback De Bruyn received consisted of the sight of the Star Destroyer's engines nearly flaming out, as they were cut from full thrust to idle, followed by the vessel cloaking once again. It might have seemed an odd experience, but if he bothered to look up the protocols in dealing with cloaked Woodian ships, he would have found it standard procedure to buy time to calculate a course out. Not a minute later, the ship decloaked again, following a drastically different course, announcing its presence on scanners for a mere seven-tenths of a second before very clearly vanishing into hyperspace.

Didn't I just say that I had no intention whatsoever of touching the Colonies with a ten-foot pole? The Balroggans sure love rattling their sabers, and it didn't help that the network executives were Not Very Happy with them hacking into our Holonet, even if they wanted to reiterate their stance.

Warlord Nhur-Galladu, or whatever your title is now. I would like to inform you that it really isn't very polite to hack into other people's Holonet networks. I would also like to inform you that I have had made it clear that Coredia would not interfere with whatever happens in the Colonies, and I intend to stand by that decision. So please stop preaching to the choir. Thank you very much!

~HRM Daniel Masaki

Just one more reason we need to figure out a way of putting the Balroggans in their place...

OOC:

I did not know anything about the EWT intrusion ICly. I have no resources in ND space to detect their presence. I only would have been able to detect the public broadcast of CW's and responded because of being asked by OG.

Just setting the record straight.

"Of course. I'll have the coordinates sent to your ship since I doubt our astral maps are similar to your own. Hopefully the Dornalian alias will pay off because I don't think this name quite suits me."

Gaf'ton walked with Adama backed down to the heart of the floating city while a platoon of Imperial Marines followed in behind acting as an escort. There was little else to discuss as they went about their business. Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton was to act as an overseer for the Abh to ensure that all went well for the Colonials returning home, it was an end to an investment that the Abh wanted to see to the end.

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

Twilight silently watched the Childer and Kython leave the room to her doing. She located the controls to the ship, or what remained of them, and found the controls to the ship's engines. They were archaic compared to the level of technology that the Abh was used to but it mattered little. The flying hell hold was going to be devoured in flames and erased from all existence. Soon there would be little beyond the surviving crew to attest to the Isis's being.

She drove the handles forward to increase the acceleration and angled them to the nearest sun. Blue emissions glowed from the exhaust of the engine shafts as the Warstar lurched toward the star. Twilight gave one last look around and hurried to the flight deck. By now, all crews had evacuated and were heading back to their home labs just as she boarded her new Kython loaded ship and left the doomed vessel.

"I can either take you to the fringes of Balroggan space and have a ship come to retrieve you or I can transport you to the temple of the New Sith Order. Which would you prefer?"

OOC:

I did not know anything about the EWT intrusion ICly. I have no resources in ND space to detect their presence. I only would have been able to detect the public broadcast of CW's and responded because of being asked by OG.

Just setting the record straight.

OOC: I know. Hence, the mention of just "Rumors," not actual facts. Gives wiggle room to be easily disproven ICly. ;)

Now that we've settled the issue, let's move on. I got enough headaches, people, with picking college courses. I'll get a post up...nowish.

IC:

Acting is merely the art of keeping a large group of people from coughing.

--Ralph Richardson

"Of course. I'll have the coordinates sent to your ship since I doubt our astral maps are similar to your own. Hopefully the Dornalian alias will pay off because I don't think this name quite suits me."

Gaf'ton walked with Adama backed down to the heart of the floating city while a platoon of Imperial Marines followed in behind acting as an escort. There was little else to discuss as they went about their business. Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton was to act as an overseer for the Abh to ensure that all went well for the Colonials returning home, it was an end to an investment that the Abh wanted to see to the end.

Finally finished with the transmission with Gaf'ton, he smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. Negotating with those folks had been tough, and it was little wonder he now understood why so many distrusted them with people's money. Still, he liked Gaf'ton and Debusec. Professionals indeed. A bit on the businesslike side, but then again De Bruyn wasn't a sociable person at times like this. His dad had told him simply that business was business, and fun was fun. Each had their place--the Abh understood that much.

He then opened a secure channel to JRCCC, and then contacted his junior, Supreme Admiral Bundrick.

"Bundrick? I need a favor. I want you to create a new service profile." Pausing for a moment, he then said, "Name is Johansen, David L. Birthplace: Bellingham, Washington, Earth SSR. Ethnicity: Elvish. Disability: An eye lost on a Commissariat of Science Expedition...."

After rattling off a plausible backstory and eventually incorporating ideas from Bundrick (who was from the Seattle area), he eventually had the file created.

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

Several hours later, a package marked "BEYOND TOP SECRET" would arrive at Vobayrunyay Lease. It was addressed to Gaf'ton, and marked with all sorts of warnings in both Baronh and English, and forwarded by the appropriate diplomatic pouch to his desk.

SIC:

The package itself contained a manila envelope, a People's Navy uniform with appropriate medals and pips, and all sorts of PN and Dornalian paraphrenalia. The Dossier inside the manila envelope would cast him as Captain David L. Johansen, complete with a photoshopped head--which could be easily replicated with the blond hair dye in the package.

Born in Bellingham, Washington to an Elven family from the Pacific Northwest, his father worked as a gunsmith and his mother a nature guide. He excelled in school, particularly in technical subjects. In the People's Navy War College, he excelled in the sciences and was eventually awarded the Expert Pistol Marksman award. His scientific acumen led him to be appointed to a Commissariat of Science expedition. Formerly on the NDS Edward Teller, a ship sent by the Commissariat of Science, he lost an eye fighting one of the myriad alien forces that were encountered on the long voyage. Recently transferred to Vobayrunyay Lease, he has been tapped to become Liasion with the Colonial Remnant, with an appropriate staff assignment.

The Dossier also came with a phrasebook of Dornalian slang and sayings and things a Dornalian would know, a few basic guitar chords, and how to mimic an accent from the area around Bellingham and Seattle. Surprisingly, the uniform would prove a perfect fit, although it lacked the Orientalist grace of the Abh Star Forces suit. Its utilitarian Communist design, a mix of US and Soviet designs of 20th Century Earth vintage, would do, if it didn't look elegant.

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

Intensity erupted as the guns began to explode close to the ship. The ship soon surrounded itself with bright lights of massive explosions. He knew he had to defend the ship, this ship above all others. If Metaxas got his hands on what was in the brig, he knew that it would change the face of the war. No, he swore to keep her safe.


Gordon, in the meantime, saw that he had to move in closer. Though technically in effective weapons range already, the Tauronese had moved faster than expected and had locked into combat with the Gorgan. In response, the Dornalians quickly initiated jump, and the massive profile of a Mao Zedong Mark IV lept between the Tauronese Mercuries and their prey. Likewise, six other Dornalian Mao Zedong Mark IIIa Pocket Battleships had lept to the side of Gorgan, to provide cover.

Satisfied with the results, Gordon ordered, "Broadsides, Ion Torpedoes and Demolishers! NOW!"

A massive rush of Ion Torpedoes, aimed for the enemy weapons and systems, was in store.....along with a rush of Demolisher Gun fire.

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

As De Bruyn did the arrangements, Lyndie informed him thusly:

"Tauronese Contingent forces detected. They're within 3 million miles, Admiral. Also, we have reports...Ragnar Anchorage has fallen."

De Bruyn stroked his goatee, and knew that the fall of Ragnar would give Metaxas an excellent bargaining chip, or worse--a staging ground to use. It had plenty of fuel for his men, and enough to take them wherever they wanted--which was nowhere he wanted them to go.

"Thank you, Lyndie. Keep moving at maximum speed to intercept thew Contingent forces incoming. We need to meet them as quickly as we can. Also prepare a relief operation for Ragnar. We need to get that back."

bump for updated post

(OOC: I am very sorry for the bad post. I know there is a lot more to do, but I thought I would focus on key battles at the moment, and later on get back to the civie side. Please MSN me if you need a edit.)

Scorpia Shipyards

Three Tauronese battlestars remained docked, as the noose tightened. Scorpia had sent nearly it’s entire fleet, consisting of thirty two battlestars and many support ships, mainly used for planetary defense, as well as the new Dornie ships that bolstered their numbers.

It was becoming all to clear to the three stranded battlestars, that they had no chance in hell of making it out. Warning lights were sounding off, as the Blockade maintained it’s targeting solution on the three docked ships, waiting for any sign of engine power up.

But they were not out of the fight not yet.

Onboard the Scorpia ship yards... boots clashed against the metal floor, as gun fire erupted inside the ship, as the boarding parties took their liberties fighting the only way they could. Bodies piled up, as the dock’s security tried to fight in vain against the onslaught of the Tauronese marines boarding the station. Blood began to run deep as the halls became littered with empty casings.

Private Malkir, was with his platoon behind the bulk head of Docking Bay 32. He was nervous as he held his rifle up to the door. It was his first action, his first conflict, and it was not as romantic as the movies made it out to be. He watched his friends die today, not in a battle against the eternal enemy the cylons but at the hand of their own.

The enemy was coming closer, as he could hear their boots hitting the metal floor. Their boots pounding against the station, was almost like a drum, and the noise was getting louder.

Reaching down, he kissed a medallion on his chest, of his patron lord. “Lords protect us.” he asked them. Then as he prayed the noise stopped. Malkir held up his rifle as he waited for the inevitable.

Then a loud explosion came, with a white blinding light. His ears ached, in pain, as his ear drums were ruptured. The world spun, and he could not see. Slowly his vision came back to him, as he found himself on the floor, with a rifle in his face. “Do not frakking move.” a man in his same uniform yelled at him, pointing a rifle in his face.

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Deep Orbit of Caprica...

“New Draidus Contacts, bearing...”

“I see where they are, how in the hell did they jump in front of the Gorgan.” the commander of the Tauronese battlestar group yelled out, as the Mao IV, and the pocket mao’s took up a defensive formation to protect the now dead in the water Gorgan.

As the confusion continued, the shells fired at the Gorgan continued to run straight and true against the Mao. The guns of the seventeen battlestars firing their EMP shells at the ship, continued to slam against the Temporal shielding of the Mao.

“Incoming fire sir.” one of the deck hands yelled out. As he looked up, it was too late, as the demolisher fire and ion torpedoes achieved their surprise attack. The battlestar shook, as the commander found himself on the planning table. “Damage?”

“Dita has taken a good hit, but so far is holding up. We have some fire in internal compartments, and a Broken Steam valve on C 32.”

“Frak Vent that section, and bring flaks against the pocket maos. Maintain main batteries against the Mao.”

“Sir.” another enlisted man said. “EMP’s are having minimum effect. The Dornie vessel has minor damage to shielding.”

The commander could not believe the news. Seventeen battlestars each firing their main guns, fifty two cannons, at the rate of one shot a second, did minor EMP damage. That was over 884 shots put across the Mao’s broadside.

“Frak it then.” he said as he picked up the phone. “This is the commander. All Main batteries switch to Salvo fire.”

The ship began to shake again, and the outer edge of the flight pod turned red in the damage control screen, as fire began to erupt visibly from space out of the port flight pod. “And get me those flaks now...”

With the draidus going off and on as the ion torpedoes hit, the turning of the flak and secondary batteries was going much slower than usual. Finally they got in positions, and as the third volley flew towards the ships, the main flak screen went to work. Hitting the torpedoes, and slamming against the energy weapons, soon the energy weapons began to lose their strength against the onslaught of the Colonial flak screens, as well as many of the Ion Torpedoes were begin destroyed. Still though as the demolishers burned a whole through the portions of the new flak shells it became apparent that the ion torpedoes behind them had a much greater chance of making it through.

Caprica Fleet, in the battle of the Gorgan.

They could only watch the battle as they moved closer with flank speed. A message went out to the Dornie vessels contending with the Tauronese. “Dornie Vessels, this is BSG- 43. We are launching vipers against the rebels, and will be in optimum weapons range, ETA 5 minutes.”

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Near the edge of Neptune:

JRCCC, soon picked up 10 massive jump signatures, on the farside of the planet, as ten mercury class battlestars came into the solar system.

LET'S DO IT!!!

--Joe Swanson, Family Guy

(OOC: I am very sorry for the bad post. I know there is a lot more to do, but I thought I would focus on key battles at the moment, and later on get back to the civie side. Please MSN me if you need a edit.)

Scorpia Shipyards

Three Tauronese battlestars remained docked, as the noose tightened. Scorpia had sent nearly it’s entire fleet, consisting of thirty two battlestars and many support ships, mainly used for planetary defense, as well as the new Dornie ships that bolstered their numbers.

It was becoming all to clear to the three stranded battlestars, that they had no chance in hell of making it out. Warning lights were sounding off, as the Blockade maintained it’s targeting solution on the three docked ships, waiting for any sign of engine power up.

But they were not out of the fight not yet.

Onboard the Scorpia ship yards... boots clashed against the metal floor, as gun fire erupted inside the ship, as the boarding parties took their liberties fighting the only way they could. Bodies piled up, as the dock’s security tried to fight in vain against the onslaught of the Tauronese marines boarding the station. Blood began to run deep as the halls became littered with empty casings.

Private Malkir, was with his platoon behind the bulk head of Docking Bay 32. He was nervous as he held his rifle up to the door. It was his first action, his first conflict, and it was not as romantic as the movies made it out to be. He watched his friends die today, not in a battle against the eternal enemy the cylons but at the hand of their own.

The enemy was coming closer, as he could hear their boots hitting the metal floor. Their boots pounding against the station, was almost like a drum, and the noise was getting louder.

Reaching down, he kissed a medallion on his chest, of his patron lord. “Lords protect us.” he asked them. Then as he prayed the noise stopped. Malkir held up his rifle as he waited for the inevitable.

Then a loud explosion came, with a white blinding light. His ears ached, in pain, as his ear drums were ruptured. The world spun, and he could not see. Slowly his vision came back to him, as he found himself on the floor, with a rifle in his face. “Do not frakking move.” a man in his same uniform yelled at him, pointing a rifle in his face.

OOC: Assuming this bit from previously RPed reports of trouble at Scorpia. Also, if this ain't good, warn me on TG or MSN, if I'm on. I couldn't resist :).

IC:

The man threatening Malkir would recieve an unwelcome surprise. A man saying in a Southwestern cowboy drawl, "I wouldn't do that, if I were you," could be heard, and Malkir would be able to see a man in blue-green armor, with a Red Star on his helmet. The mysterious soldier quickly delivered a sucker punch and a gut shot to the man threatening him using a shotgun, and that soldier's friends would be given the same reward, only with gauss rifles and pistols The soldier would then be seen ordering the others dressed like him, "Fan out, keep to squads. Look alive, people, there's more hostiles!"

He then extended a hand to Malkir, and said, "Name's Sergeant Jerome, sonny. People's Navy Marines. Can you get up?"

Indeed, such actions would be carried out all over the ship, as the Dornalians had elected to shore up the defense of the Ship Yards with all due force.

Deep Orbit of Caprica...

With the draidus going off and on as the ion torpedoes hit, the turning of the flak and secondary batteries was going much slower than usual. Finally they got in positions, and as the third volley flew towards the ships, the main flak screen went to work. Hitting the torpedoes, and slamming against the energy weapons, soon the energy weapons began to lose their strength against the onslaught of the Colonial flak screens, as well as many of the Ion Torpedoes were begin destroyed. Still though as the demolishers burned a whole through the portions of the new flak shells it became apparent that the ion torpedoes behind them had a much greater chance of making it through.

----

Caprica Fleet, in the battle of the Gorgan.

They could only watch the battle as they moved closer with flank speed. A message went out to the Dornie vessels contending with the Tauronese. “Dornie Vessels, this is BSG- 43. We are launching vipers against the rebels, and will be in optimum weapons range, ETA 5 minutes.”

"BSG-43, this is Gordon. Acknowledged, will send fighter screens to support, over."

Gordon looked at the Tactical Displays. So far, the situation wasn't too bad, but things were getting hairy. To their credit, the Colons had powerful flak screens, and were making life difficult for him. It would seem that the flak would reduce the game to one of mathematics, where he would pump in more rounds, and get diminishing returns thanks to the screen.

The Tactical Officer however, offered a solution, as he said, "Sir, scans indicate that their flak screens....don't like our Demolisher Cannons."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Seems more shots--if only a few more--get through when they go in first."

Gordon stroked his chin, and then said, "Increase fire. Alternating waves of two volleys of demolisher fire and two volleys of torpedo fire. We have a trump card, we will play it. GO!"

It was thus that the Tauronese were not only confronted with fighter screens, but also more of the energy fire, seemingly deliberately thrown at the flak screens they were projecting.....along with more of those Ion Torpedoes...


Near the edge of Neptune:

JRCCC, soon picked up 10 massive jump signatures, on the farside of the planet, as ten mercury class battlestars came into the solar system.

"Sir! We gots incoming movement. Ten big ones. Corresponding to Mercury class Battlestars. They're coming straight for us."

MacIntyre immediately said, "Motherfuckers. Get me Wachowski and Zhao."

The two commanders in the Solar System, both commanding contingents of the Red Banner Fleet, could be seen tending to their respective ships. Before MacIntyre could speak, however, Wachowski replied, in her Polish accent, "They are here. I know."

"What do you propose to do?"

"Let me handle it. We need to defend Earth after all."

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

Wachowski then said, typing on her Tactical Display, "Gracie. Any suggestions?"

"Well, we have Picon Detachment, and the Red Banner Fleet of Mars and Earth. Both at full strength. We also have other units patrolling the system....four, five Squadrons of Home Guard, and Battlegroup Black Ice."

"Tell Zhao to hold at Mars. Summon the Vladimir Lenin, the Karl Marx,, the Picon Detachment, and shift Battlegroup Black Ice to the defense of Earth. The Red Banner Fleet will meet them."

"A reasonable choice. Holds down forces to defend, and keeps reserves. But, the Mercuries are tough bastards. I gotta warn you," Gracie said. "Intel indicates they're not like their predecessors."

"Nothing is," Wachowski replied as she issued the orders. "Besides, we can neutralize their advantages if we get in close. And, we can also use Ion torpedoes and our superior firepower to get hits in. The goal is to keep them from assaulting Earth. Now, we move out."

Thus, Wachowski's forces moved to meet the Battlestars, bearing a simple message:

Attention Unidentified battlestars--

Stand down immediately. Failure to comply will result in your destruction.

As Gaf'ton and Adama left Lakfakallae, a message was sent to the Abriel informing him that a package had arrived from the Dornalian delegation at Vobayrunay. Instructions were passed along to have it delivered to the POW camp where the survivors from the Isis were being kept.

"Looks like the new uniform has arrived."

Once they were back aboard the Galactica, Gaf'ton tapped into his clyuno and brought up the stellar coordinates for the floating station. It was a rather simple matter of working alongside the Colonial's engineering crew to cross check references and line up the appropriate destination. Everything seem to check out though there was always the fear of jumping in the middle of an asteroid field or a sun.

Fortunately everything proved true as they emerged a short distance from the Abh station floating in the middle of space. Scans would pick up a large flotilla of Star Forces ships lingering around the station.

A message was sent to the Galactica. "This is Admiral Abriel of Star Forces. His Majesty, Emperor Debeusec, has ordered my fleet to escort the Colonial ships to the red line for your protection. The Dornalian prisoners will be leaving after you and returned to Earth safely by civilian transport. Once we arrive at Caprica, we will have to hold back and let you go the rest of the way alone. For now, we will be your escort."

Gaf'ton heard her voice for a second and smiled. "So, he even sends his daughter to help."

The Abriel turned to Adama with a small grin. "Let's go and fetch your new recruits."

In the meantime, a small diplomatic shuttle bearing the Coredian IFF scooted its way into Lakfakallae airspace, then sent out a call to whoever may be concerned.

"Lakfakallae Control, this is the Coredian Diplomatic Mission requesting clearance for landing, over!"

A message bounced back to the Coredian shuttle ordering it to standby while the proper scans were conducted to ensure the safety of the floating Abh city. Once no weapons were detected or anything potentially hazardous, a shuttle bay number was given to the ship.

"Scans complete. Please proceed to docking bay A367OF."

Floating holographic markers were positioned every few clickes for coming and going shuttles to obey the Abh idea of a space traffic lane. Eventually the equivalent of an exit sign for the selected docking bay came up. Flashing lights illuminated the flight path to enter the winding shuttle bay. A small pad flared to life when the Coredian shuttle touched down on it.

The landing pad descended into the depths of the jewel of the Abh Empire where a series of armor plated doors sealed shut allowing atmosphere to return to an inner chamber within Lakfakallae.

While the Coredian shuttle was being allowed to dock, a message was sent to the Emperor. "Pardon the interruption your Excellency."

Debeusec opened an eye ever so slowly then tilted his head to look at the page. "What is it?"

"The Coredian diplomat that you have been expecting has finally arrived."

The Abriel sat a bit more upright when he received the news. "I see. Have Doron and two Mord-Sith see to the diplomat's needs."

"Right away your Majesty."

Part of his punishment, Doron was relegated to serving as head of security in Lakfakallae against any potential abnormal abilities. So Doron was already prepared for duty before the message came. He had already sensed someone affinitied with the Force.

By the time the Coredian ambassador exited his shuttle, he would be greeted by a tall cloaked figure and two women flanking him clad in tight red leather.

Neptune:

The Ten battlestars made no response to the hail, as they continued towards their course, towards the heart of New Dornalia, the thirteenth colony of Earth. Maintaining their speed, they strolled along like nothing was wrong, as they went in at full sub-light towards the planet. What was going through their minds, why not just jump in like they did no more than three hours ago. What was the gain of flashing their signatures across the entire solar system?

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

Earth SSR,

The viper was a total wreck, as one of the Colonial Deck hands on the pocket Mao walked towards the Dornie deck chief. His face was covered in grease as he held a paper in his hand. “Such a strange piece of paper?” the deck hand thought as he noticed the corners were still intact. Aside from that though he shrugged. “Chief.” he yelled out towards the leader of the Deck gang.

Walking up to him, he handed him the clipboard. “Need you to sign off on it. Damn Viper looks like it has been through hell and back. Laser burns, and missile shrapnel is all over the damn thing. I am surprised you got it on the deck in one piece.”

He then took his sleeve and wiped the engine oil off his sleeve. “It is really frakked up. Thing is though, it wasn’t done by us, or your people. Laser marks look like turbo lasers, kinda like Imperial or Coredian fire.” he said as he pointed to the diagram on the paper. And in the engine, looks like it suffered some kinda explosion. To be honest, I got no damn clue why this viper isn’t space dust, especially considering the fleet hasn’t used this design since the second cylon war.”

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. With the pack opened he offered one to the deck hand, by gesturing with a slight shaking movement. “Now that is not the frakked up part. Damn thing has no jumps, hell it has no FTL at all. I can’t even explain how in the hell it got here. Ask me, it is a bloody miracle.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sickbay:

Jane Doe laid in the bed, her body badly beaten and bruised, as her shoulder length hair laid matted with sweat. Her body laid still, as the Dornie doctors injected her with several tubes, and did a battery of tests. Something was off with her, as the inspectors looked over her uniform, and her personal belongings. She wore the classic flight suit of a Viper pilot, but it was strange. She didn’t have the pips of the United Colonies. Her insignia was older, that of the Twelve Colonies. In fact there was no sign at all of anything that would show that this pilot had any contact with the thirteenth tribe.

Hours went by, as the doctors, did what they could. Heart monitors continued to beep, as the bacta fluid flowed gently into her veins.

Slowly her eyes began to flutter, as one of the nurses reached down and held her hand. “You are safe now.” she whispered to Jane Doe. The woman’s eyes began to flutter even more rapidly, as the woman began to squeeze the nurses hand. “Doctor.” the nurse yelled, as the woman’s brown eyes finally opened.

“Damn I need a drink.” the woman said as she came too suddenly. The woman looked at the nurse, then around the unfamiliar settings. She tried to pull herself up, as she scooted back, to only be met by the nurse pressing down on her. “You need to lay still dear.” the nurse said to the woman.

“Like hell I do.” the pilot said, as she took her good arm and shoved the nurse away. “Who the frak are you?”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=esQJyWcZYa4

In Deep Orbit of Caprica:

“Alright boys. Watch your six. The Dornies just deployed fighters. Killjoy, you got my wing.” Raven yelled out, as she pushed the throttle down on her Viper. “And for fraks sake, stay out of the firing solution.” she yelled out her orders towards her squadron.

This mission was more than a normal job for her, as she focused her viper on the Dornie fighter in front of her. It was quite personal. She looked at her target, as shots were exchanged between the two. Shells hitting shields, and shells hitting the DITA, the two fighters squared off.

Raven remembered Cain, she served with her on the Ares. Admiral Cain was a woman Raven had learned to respect and to fear. She was the Admiral of the Fleet, but she was more than that. Cain, her orders, her decisions had saved not only her life, but the lives of the Colonies.

She smiled at the poor soul in front of her, as the yellow tracer fire continued to be unrelenting. Rage filled Raven, much more than she ever felt before. These Dornies were trampling on her memory, her legacy. She was murdered and they wanted to watch the criminals go free. Frak that. If the Dornies want to protect the enemy, then she was going to make them pay.

She kicked her viper’s after burners on as she flew straight and true. Tracer fire passed over her, or hit the Mark IX’s Dita, causing little damage, as she returned fire with as much effect on the temporal shielding on the Dornie fighter.

Her eyes narrowed, as the Fighter flew right at her. With a grim smile, she closed her eyes. “You wanna play lets play.” she said to herself as she continued right at the Dornie fighter.

“Raven, this is Killjoy. No joy no joy, pull up.” he yelled in protest as he watched his lead wing aim right at the Dornie craft. He locked onto the dornie, until Draidus began to chime. “Mother Frakker he yelled, as he say a Dornie fighter on his six. Killjoy reached down, and pulled back on the joystick, as he kicked in the reverse thrusters. His Viper quickly turned 180 degrees, as he fired his cannons at the Dornie. Damn it was close, as he pushed down his lateral thrusters, to and nearly skimmed the Dornie’s fighter.

It was damn close, as he could see the pilot inside. The pilot seemed to be bobbing his head as if jamming out on some music, as he extended his middle finger at Killjoy.

“Frak that.” Killjoy said as he pushed his vipers starboard thrusters, and flipped around behind the Dornie fighter. “I don’t swing that way.” he yelled out as he locked onto the fighter and fired two missiles at the bogey.”

As he watched, though, he looked to his lead wing. A fireball exploded in space as she rammed her viper into his fighter. “Oh my gods.” he said whispering to himself in sorrow as he watched her vanish in the explosion.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7P9bM105QQ

The Tauronese Commander watched and waited, as the shells the main batteries all trained and fired upon the Mao IV. Watching, they watched their shells impact the lurking battleship blocking their main exit, out of this system, and on to the greater mission, to hunt down and destroy the blue haired devils who dared to murder the beloved Admiral of Tauron.

“Sir.” the weapons control officer reported as the ship shook again. “The Mao is taken greater shield damage, but looks like he got a hell of a burn to go through.” he said as the ship shook again. “Also the Dornies seem to be shifting tactics. Flak and DITA are holding well but they found a way to maximize their projectiles.

The lights soon began to flicker as Draidus shut off then came back on.

The Commander gritted his teeth. “Order port batteries to train upon the pocket Mao’s. Intermix salve with suppression fire, and maintain heading. Let us see how well the Mao IV, wants to block our entrance.”

Just then several more hits slammed into the battlestar. The commander looked up, as the Draidus began showing new contacts. The Caprican Fleet.

“Mother frakkin traitors.” his XO said as they watched Caprica’s fleets launching vipers and raptors towards the Tauronese battle group. The ship shook again.

“New Draidus contacts. Reading Twenty nine Mercury class battlestars, bearing….”

“Yes we see them.” the XO yelled out. The battlestar began to shake again. “Sir we are getting hit from nearly every angle.”

“Frak.” the commander said. “All batteries full suppression fire, and launch all the squadrons. Maintain heading.”

“Yes sir.”

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

Deep Orbit of Picon:

Metaxas listened to the reports coming in throughout the fleet. Caprica was looking desperate, as Ragner, and the Tillium refinery on Canceron were firmly under his control. Scorpia was still in the air, but he felt confident that his forces could prevail there. All that was left was one final blow, one to humiliate the thirteenth colony, to bring them to the peace table. The Big Gun…

He looked at the long range draidus, as the Big Gun came into view. “ETA on reinforcements?” he asked calmly, as he took a sip of coffee. “Seventeen minutes sir.”

“ETA til we are in firing solution range?”

Forty five minutes sir before we are in range of the Big Gun’s weapons.” Metaxas smiled. “Good, this will be a good fight.” As he spoke new green blips appeared. “Sir.” the draidus officer spoke up. “New Draidus contacts. Dornie Reinforcements followed up by the Zeus Battle group, BSG-14, and BSG 87.

Metaxas sighed. “Thirty nine battlestars, a warstar, and fifty six Mao’s vs. our twelve battlestars and warstar.” he said as he shook his head. The odds were not looking good. Still though the objective remained the same, distract De Bruyn til the remaining Tauron battle groups could assault the FTLi platform and escape. “Maintain course.” he said, as he began to walk off the CIC. “I will be in my quarters.” Turning to the XO, “You have the com.”

Fasten your seat belts. It's going to be a bumpy night!

--Bette Davis


Neptune:

The Ten battlestars made no response to the hail, as they continued towards their course, towards the heart of New Dornalia, the thirteenth colony of Earth. Maintaining their speed, they strolled along like nothing was wrong, as they went in at full sub-light towards the planet. What was going through their minds, why not just jump in like they did no more than three hours ago. What was the gain of flashing their signatures across the entire solar system?

The fact wasn't missed, when Gracie, the Ship's AI, began scanning and mumbling....and then one person looked out the window and said, "There's nothing here!"

Wachowski then wired Earth, saying simply, "We have fallen into a feint. Warn the others, we are coming back."

“Like hell I do.” the pilot said, as she took her good arm and shoved the nurse away. “Who the frak are you?”

The Nurse then raised an eyebrow and said with a frown, "Excuse me? We barely saved your life out there, you ungrateful...ugh! And we still have to test you for other stuff. So I won't ask you again. Sit down."

"What's the commotion?"

A man in a People's Navy officers uniform walked into the room, with the appropriate pips for medical work, such as cadecus symbols and a red cross roundel. He then sighed and said, "Nurse, get my kit."

He then pulled out his PDA as the Nurse got him his tools, and said, "Well, anywho, it doesn't matter. I'm Chief Medical Officer Lieutenant Korolev." Plugging in a hub in the bottom of his PDA and then plugging in what looked like a flashlight on a wire, he said, "Now, we're gonna do a follow-up checkup, to make sure the bacta treatments held. Part of that includes memory testing....and to do that...."

He then asked as he lifted up the tool and began waving it about, "What's your name, rank, serial number?"


“Frak that.” Killjoy said as he pushed his vipers starboard thrusters, and flipped around behind the Dornie fighter. “I don’t swing that way.” he yelled out as he locked onto the fighter and fired two missiles at the bogey.”

As he watched, though, he looked to his lead wing. A fireball exploded in space as she rammed her viper into his fighter. “Oh my gods.” he said whispering to himself in sorrow as he watched her vanish in the explosion.

"Shit!"

The strains of AC/DC's "Live Wire" blared through his cockpit, as he executed what on Earth would be a high-g turn--in space, it was just a crazy turn that eventually brought him back behind the man who tried to shoot him, with a little nudging from the vector thrusters. But, even in the environs of space, fancy footwork counted here. Just ask the Tauronese.

"Damn Colons. Nearly fried my ass!"

The reply he got over his comms simply said, "Damnit, Jazz, didn't you fuckin' learn anything in Flight School? Turn that damn music down, and shoot something. This ain't no air show. I just bagged one, damnit!"

"Got it, Prettyboy," Jazz replied with some relish.

"The name is Sten. Damn!"

"Right! Gonna bag this cocksucker." He then sped up, and slid in behind the bogey in front. Not waiting for a lock, he then screamed, "SURPRISE, COCKFAG!" as he opened fire with his Gauss Minigun.....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7P9bM105QQ

The Tauronese Commander watched and waited, as the shells the main batteries all trained and fired upon the Mao IV. Watching, they watched their shells impact the lurking battleship blocking their main exit, out of this system, and on to the greater mission, to hunt down and destroy the blue haired devils who dared to murder the beloved Admiral of Tauron.

“Sir.” the weapons control officer reported as the ship shook again. “The Mao is taken greater shield damage, but looks like he got a hell of a burn to go through.” he said as the ship shook again. “Also the Dornies seem to be shifting tactics. Flak and DITA are holding well but they found a way to maximize their projectiles.

The lights soon began to flicker as Draidus shut off then came back on.

The Commander gritted his teeth. “Order port batteries to train upon the pocket Mao’s. Intermix salve with suppression fire, and maintain heading. Let us see how well the Mao IV, wants to block our entrance.”

"Our escorts are under attack....they're holding up, but request assistance. Fortunately, the Capricans are here."

Gordon then wired the other Dornalians who hadn't joined him and said, "All other units. Move at high speed. If you need to, execute a jump if you can spare the time and people to fix the damn things, but I need all units to get the drop on the enemy from left and right oblique flanks from where I am. Let's do this!"

He then told his escorts, "Right. Scans indicate use of shotgun shells--what they call Suppressing Fire--and regulars. Not good. We need to get in there. All units--"

"Sir--contacts, moving in. Scans indicate they're led by the Big Bad....Battlestar Solaria. And it's closing fast, on a ramming course!"

Gordon frowned. If Solaria wanted to duel the Mighty Mao, 14km of pure badass, that was fine. But, as it was, said 14km of pure badass was being put to the test by the Tauronese, who were proving tenacious fighters.

"All units around Gorgan. Target the Solaria using the same loads we've been using so far. We are to fire coordinated salvos at this thing. Don't let it pass! All units, brace for impact and jack those fuckin' shields up as high as possible!"

Thus, the Solaria got a hearty welcome, in the form of masses of fire sent at it from Graham and its escorts, and the massive attack from the other Dornalians that hadn't joined the fight moving on Solaria's formation's flanks, from upper left and lower right, engaging with Ions and Demolishers.

Deep Orbit of Picon:

Metaxas listened to the reports coming in throughout the fleet. Caprica was looking desperate, as Ragner, and the Tillium refinery on Canceron were firmly under his control. Scorpia was still in the air, but he felt confident that his forces could prevail there. All that was left was one final blow, one to humiliate the thirteenth colony, to bring them to the peace table. The Big Gun…

He looked at the long range draidus, as the Big Gun came into view. “ETA on reinforcements?” he asked calmly, as he took a sip of coffee. “Seventeen minutes sir.”

“ETA til we are in firing solution range?”

Forty five minutes sir before we are in range of the Big Gun’s weapons.” Metaxas smiled. “Good, this will be a good fight.” As he spoke new green blips appeared. “Sir.” the draidus officer spoke up. “New Draidus contacts. Dornie Reinforcements followed up by the Zeus Battle group, BSG-14, and BSG 87.

Metaxas sighed. “Thirty nine battlestars, a warstar, and fifty six Mao’s vs. our twelve battlestars and warstar.” he said as he shook his head. The odds were not looking good. Still though the objective remained the same, distract De Bruyn til the remaining Tauron battle groups could assault the FTLi platform and escape. “Maintain course.” he said, as he began to walk off the CIC. “I will be in my quarters.” Turning to the XO, “You have the com.”

"The Uitlanders are coming. ETA 17 minutes."

De Bruyn then asked, "Strength and Disposition?"

"Twelve battlestars, one Warstar--that Ares....filthy heathens." She then typed in some coordinates and said, "There are also reinforcements from our side coming in."

"Good," he said in English. He then turned to his Tactical Display, and then pushed a few buttons, putting the commanders of his forces on All Call.

"Right. The enemy is moving in closer. We are currently on FTLi, so no jump is possible. Anderson, Patel, and I will move in three groups to engage Metaxas head on, all in Wedge Formation to maximize offensive firepower--the Colonials are armed to the teeth. Now, Nagala, McCoy, Venizelos--you will each lead the Colonial forces in assaulting Metaxas's flanks and rear, to ensure he is occupied from multiple angles. The objective is to trap him, disable his vessels, and detain as many as possible via boarding actions using Raptors and teleportation--including Metaxas. Granted, the likelihood of death is high, but that is a given in our line of work."

Nagala replied, "Admiral, I must warn you. This isn't going to be easy....Metaxas is a hell of a fighter. He isn't just going to roll over and play nice because he's surrounded."

"I agree." Venizelos nodded as he shook his head.

"As do I," Anderson noted. "Nagala's right. Metaxas is a fighter, and we all saw what he said on TV. He's willing to do this to the end."

"I fully expect that from him," De Bruyn replied. "Thus, the plan is to engage him in such a fashion, and fight him to exhaustion utilizing our superiority of numbers and by extension the massed firepower we enjoy. We will use Ion and EMP weaponry to target his electronics and systems, to reduce his ability to fight, along with our other tools."

The others nodded, and Anderson said, "If I may, Admiral--wouldn't this need utmost coordination? I mean, if this is to work, this plan has to be done on the dot. Slipups will compromise it, and leave holes for Metaxas to escape."

Looking over the proposed battlemaps, De Bruyn then said, "We will then have to attack and get his attention." Revising his plan, he said, "Venizelos, Anderson, and I will make the initial engagement, and attempt to feign an envelopment on Metaxas, to get his attention. Whether he tries to back off or power through it is no matter, we will move to engage him and ensure his attention is distracted. As this occurs, the others will move in from above, below, and rear to begin the entrapment."

The others nodded, and it seemed to work. De Bruyn then asked Venizelos, "We will need to ensure secrecy. Can we perform a feint to make it seem I'm sending less vessels?"

Venizelos nodded, and said, "Did it against the Toasters. Sure. We can whip up something to make it look like only you're going out here, when that ain't true."

"Good, get to it." He then said, "Anybody else?"

-------

Belowdecks, a group of Marines was prepping for battle in a common room. M1 Gauss Rifles in hand, Sheild Steel suits ready for war, they sat about, talking shop as they readied for the fight against the "Tees" that was sure to come.

One man, resembling Steve Buscemi with a pair of pince-nez glasses, asked the other man next to him, a large Chinese man with a relatively long beard in and an otherwise stern gaze, "So General, I never finished askin' ya--how's the boy?"

The "General" replied, in a voice like Joe Swanson's from Family Guy, "Well, the boy's alright. He's growin' up like his old man--doing manly things, like fightin' and knowing right from wrong."

"Didn't know that was manly, General," the Buscemi lookalike said.

"Well, Specs, where I come from, a man's gotta know two thing--"

Specs replied, "I know, I know, watch out for his brothers, and do the right thing." With a wave of his hand, he sighed and said, "You only said that 26 times this week."

"Well, I'm just sayin'--it's a good value to have. Loyalty and trust in your brothers, man. That's rare, you know." The "General" shrugged, and then finished putting on his socks as he went to check his prized possession--a giant combat knife, blued, with a dragon on it.

"Yeah, but when your brother's a jock who happens to lord over you, I doubt you'd wanna be loyal to him." Specs shrugged, and then got up. As he approached his locker, he pulled out a small circuitboard and some parts, and began sautering.

"Still working on that radio, Specs?"

"Yup. Only a matter of time now. Actually, I'm gonna hook on a HoloNet Transciever, a holoprojector, a few capacitors and some other stuff, make this into a TV." He said this with some pride.

"Well, that's a bit above my league. As it is, I'm just happy to work what I got," the "General" said.

"Well, takes a certain kind of man to build circuts for a living...."

At that, a catgirl walked in, and opened her locker. Upon doing so, she was subjected to loud rock music. She then proceeded to open and close the locker, the music beginning and stopping as she opened and closed the locker.

At that, she then walked up to Specs and snatched his radio. She then held a lighter to it, and said, "Specs, you fucking unfuck my locker, or you can say bye-bye to this."

Specs then got up and said, "What happened?" innocently.

"Well, I got fuckin' noise comin' out of it. Like, that oppression music you play 24/7." the catgirl said with a tone of haughty intolerance.

"Okay, that is not oppression music. That's heavy metal. And it's about revolutionary themes," Specs replied with more than a hint of sarcasm and impaitence. He then got up, and stared the catgirl in the face, as he said "Now gimme my radio back, Soundbyte. Or should I say Francisca."

Soundbyte then was about to hit Specs, when a squeaky, highpitched yet badass male voice said, "Consarnit! Cut that racket out!"

A tall, muscled, tanned man with a five o'clock shadow walked into the room, and said to Specs, "Markham, fix Soundbyte's locker." He then said to Soundbyte, "Jacinta-chibi, get outta here until he fixes it." He then said, admonisingly, "We gots business to do, not a lot of time to do it in. We don't need trouble. Is that clear?"

The others saluted and said, "Sir, yes sir!"

"Good. Remember, we're the Flying Hellfish. The fightin'est group of Marines out there. We got a rep to keep!" He then left.

The "General" then said, "Okay guys. You heard Simpson. Let's go."

A message bounced back to the Coredian shuttle ordering it to standby while the proper scans were conducted to ensure the safety of the floating Abh city. Once no weapons were detected or anything potentially hazardous, a shuttle bay number was given to the ship.

"Scans complete. Please proceed to docking bay A367OF."

Floating holographic markers were positioned every few clickes for coming and going shuttles to obey the Abh idea of a space traffic lane. Eventually the equivalent of an exit sign for the selected docking bay came up. Flashing lights illuminated the flight path to enter the winding shuttle bay. A small pad flared to life when the Coredian shuttle touched down on it.

The landing pad descended into the depths of the jewel of the Abh Empire where a series of armor plated doors sealed shut allowing atmosphere to return to an inner chamber within Lakfakallae.

While the Coredian shuttle was being allowed to dock, a message was sent to the Emperor. "Pardon the interruption your Excellency."

Debeusec opened an eye ever so slowly then tilted his head to look at the page. "What is it?"

"The Coredian diplomat that you have been expecting has finally arrived."

The Abriel sat a bit more upright when he received the news. "I see. Have Doron and two Mord-Sith see to the diplomat's needs."

"Right away your Majesty."

Part of his punishment, Doron was relegated to serving as head of security in Lakfakallae against any potential abnormal abilities. So Doron was already prepared for duty before the message came. He had already sensed someone affinitied with the Force.

By the time the Coredian ambassador exited his shuttle, he would be greeted by a tall cloaked figure and two women flanking him clad in tight red leather.
"Prince Doron, it is a pleasure to meet you once more." Yanosuke Masaki, Duke of Generis, Uncle to the Emperor, backup Patriarch of the Clan when said Emperor was away, and Ambassador to the Galactic Federation, spoke cordially. He wore the formal robes of a Jedi Master for this occasion (with armorsilk lining!) and his lightsaber hung on a back rung of his belt, the Jedi signal for peaceful intentions (as opposed to a forward rung when danger was expected). Unlike most members of the Masaki Clan, his nephew included, Yano Masaki was a career diplomat, preferring words to the blade and his calm and polite demeanor showed this.

"Likewise ambassador. Follow me."

Doron spun without another word and lead the Masaki out of the docking chambers and out into the terminal traffic of those coming and leaving the capital. The two Mord-sith fell in line behind the Coredian while picking up the flanks. The company was greeted by a dispersal of the crowds as they gave the Abriel and his cohorts plenty of room.

Eventually they made their way out of the masses of people and into the walkways that lead to various parts of the floating city. Doron kept them moving at a brisk pace and ushered them into a turbolift. The ride up was silent and quick with blue lights flashing by as they passed each level.

The steel doors opened and they stopped out onto a floor that was far quieter but with many more guards than before. Imperial Marines moved about on their patrols while some of the more notable ambassadors sat around to enjoy the abundant vegetation or holographic art. Trees lined the halls with squirrels running from branch to branch.

Tall iron doors loomed up before the group which were promptly opened by servants so that Doron and the rest could enter in without question. The Jade Throne room greeted them as they entered the hall. Eight pillars made up the background representing the founding families of the Abriels. Sitting in the center of the room was a high back throne with water surrounding the throne.

Only there was no one sitting there.

Minutes slipped by with no sign of the Emperor. Doron stepped off to the side while the Mord-sith took up position in front of the dias that lead to throne. More time slipped by before the Emperor showed. But finally a door opened off to the side where out strode Emperor Debeusec of the Abh Empire. A great golden tiara wrapped around his forehead amidst the long blue hair. One green cat's eye made up the center of the elaborate crown while robes flowed over his Star Forces uniform.

After taking his seat, the Emperor rested his head in the palm of his hand and stared at the ambassador emotionlessly. "Ambassador Yanosuke Masaki, what is it that I can do for you?"

Maya turns to Twilight.

"I am not sure which would be best. I also need to repay you for your kindness of offering this lift."

Maya thought for a moment and Twilight could feel some sort of communication going on between her and the Kython.

"I know, he says your "voice" is quiet and hard to hear. I could teach you how to improve your ability to communicate with your Shipmind better over a greater distance. Right now your voice is too quiet and hard for it to pick up if you move too far away from her."

Maya looked up at Twilight.

"What do you think? It wil take a long time but in the end ou should be stronger for it."

"Likewise ambassador. Follow me."

Doron spun without another word and lead the Masaki out of the docking chambers and out into the terminal traffic of those coming and leaving the capital. The two Mord-sith fell in line behind the Coredian while picking up the flanks. The company was greeted by a dispersal of the crowds as they gave the Abriel and his cohorts plenty of room.

Eventually they made their way out of the masses of people and into the walkways that lead to various parts of the floating city. Doron kept them moving at a brisk pace and ushered them into a turbolift. The ride up was silent and quick with blue lights flashing by as they passed each level.

The steel doors opened and they stopped out onto a floor that was far quieter but with many more guards than before. Imperial Marines moved about on their patrols while some of the more notable ambassadors sat around to enjoy the abundant vegetation or holographic art. Trees lined the halls with squirrels running from branch to branch.

Tall iron doors loomed up before the group which were promptly opened by servants so that Doron and the rest could enter in without question. The Jade Throne room greeted them as they entered the hall. Eight pillars made up the background representing the founding families of the Abriels. Sitting in the center of the room was a high back throne with water surrounding the throne.

Only there was no one sitting there.

Minutes slipped by with no sign of the Emperor. Doron stepped off to the side while the Mord-sith took up position in front of the dias that lead to throne. More time slipped by before the Emperor showed. But finally a door opened off to the side where out strode Emperor Debeusec of the Abh Empire. A great golden tiara wrapped around his forehead amidst the long blue hair. One green cat's eye made up the center of the elaborate crown while robes flowed over his Star Forces uniform.

After taking his seat, the Emperor rested his head in the palm of his hand and stared at the ambassador emotionlessly. "Ambassador Yanosuke Masaki, what is it that I can do for you?"
Ah. Getting right down to business. Yano thought as he centered his thoughts toward the politeness of diplomacy. "Your Majesty. It has been a while since our two countries met and hopefully future meetings will be fruitful to our relations. Today, my Government is concerned with certain matters that have come to our attention of late. Earlier, we have received word from various channels that a ship of our ally the United Colonies of Kobol has disappeared, known as the Isis, commanded by one Admiral Cain. The latest word that I have received from my Government is that the ship has somehow shown up in your space. My dear Emperor, my visit is simply this: my Government wishes to inquire as to the state of the ship and its crew, including Admiral Cain."

(OOC: I am taking some liberties with this post to help the post flow smoothly. Abh please MSN me if it is not ok and I will edit, or if I got the Abriel's speech in the wrong time slot.)

Two by two, the black boots walked down the long bluish corridors. Each marine, walked along side an Abh counterpart. There was little to no chatter, as two by two, they walked towards the prisoners held by the Abh.

The Abh led the Colonials down, to a large metal door. The Abh was silent, as they reached down and with a click of their hand opened a large bulkhead door, which seemed to be rather thick, like a blast shield. The door pulled away, to reveal a much darker and danker hall.

The lights flickered on and off, as this area seemed to be the most run down section in the prison. Each guard, one Abh, and one Marine, took up point next to the main cells.

“Crew of the Warstar Isis, ATTENTION!” one of the Marines barked out to the Colonials held in the prison cells.

It was obvious that time had taken it’s toll, as slowly several hands reached up around the bars of the prision doors. Several faces, each covered in dirt, like they were trapped in a medieval cell poked out the bars.

The Sergeant at arms, stood at attention, his back straight as he spoke to the crew of Helena Cain. “By order of the Supreme Admiral of the Colonial Remnant, the Vice Admiral of the United Colonies of Kobol, Admiral Adama, and with the blessing of the Admiral of the Fleet Admiral De Bruyn, I have been here by ordered to secure your release. Each of you will file up, one by one, and will be escorted to a Raptor, where you will be taken onboard either the Galactica, or the Pegasus. Any outbursts, or any attempts at escape will be met with deadly force.”

Out of the silence, one voice spoke up, one voice to set the mood, “Galactica, Pegasus, what in the frak are you traitors doing out here.” one man in the back said boisterously.

“Shut the frak up Ziemers.” the voice of a woman yelled out. “You want to spend the rest of your life in this hell hole, especially after what you did with Townson.”

“I helped to free our people, Frye, what in the frak did you do?”

“I defended my ship and Admiral and didn't help these damn bastards walk all over our ship.”

The Sergeant at arms face grew much colder as she turned to the marines. “Hey, shut the frak up all of you. Line up, or stay in your cell. Any more talking and we will use deadly force.” she yelled out to the prisoners.

Turning to the Abh, she nodded, “Thank you.” she said. Each of the prison cells opened, and they filed out one by one, as instructed, each with an Abh and Colonial marine escorting them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Six hours later:
On board the Battlestar Galactica.

It was the first time an Abh set foot on the CIC, since the unfortunate incident over Isis. Doran, prince of the Abh, had decided on the CIC, to set his own ideals over that of Adama in a time of war. So it was quite a shock, as Imperial Gaf’ton took up his role, at the side of Adama.

Lutinent Dualla could still remember that day, the day she ducked under her table, as Colonial Marines backed up by the Farstars representative, held their rifles at Prince Doran. His hand on his light saber, she remembered how he was prepared to strike down Admiral Adama. Thank the gods, that it ended much more peacefully than that.

“Admiral on Deck.” one of the marine guards yelled out, as Adama, and Gaf’ton walked in the CIC. The room was silent, except for the hum of Draidus, as the pair strolled in position.

“At ease.” Adama said, as he walked towards the planning table. He nodded towards Gaf’ton and then turned to his XO, Saul Tigh.

“Scopes are clear, the last raptor just boarded from the prison.” he said to his old friend and superior.

“Sir.” Gaeta spoke up, “Multiple jump signatures, it is the Abh and Remnant fleet.” Adama nodded, as he took off his glasses.

“Sir.” Lt Dualla spoke up. “We are receiving a message from the Abh Flag ship.”

“Put it on speakers.”

The voice of a young woman, soon crackled over the wireless. “This is Admiral Abriel of Star Forces. His Majesty, Emperor Debeusec, has ordered my fleet to escort the Colonial ships to the red line for your protection. The Dornalian prisoners will be leaving after you and returned to Earth safely by civilian transport. Once we arrive at Caprica, we will have to hold back and let you go the rest of the way alone. For now, we will be your escort."

Gaf'ton heard her voice for a second and smiled. "So, he even sends his daughter to help."

Adama nodded, as he looked at Dualla, “Patch me through to the fleet.”

He picked up the phone, as the wireless spread his voice through the remnant fleet.

Men and Women of Galactica, People of the Colonial Remnant, and to the Abh Empire. This is Admiral Adama. Three years ago, we left our homes, to protect our ideals and to maintain our lives. It has been a strenuous journey, filled with loss and pain. We have endured much, from battles with the cylons, and many hardships I know most of you would never have expected. We have also made good friends and allies out here amongst the stars.

Today though, we are going to return home. Our homes are being destroyed in the wake of Helena Cain’s death. Our people are at each others throats, and we can not sit idly by as this happens. I have assurances from the new Admiral of the Fleet, that our new allies will remain as such, and that we will actively work together with our old friends and families to restore what was lost to us.

I know many of you are worried, and are scared. We are about to enter a combat zone, where Colonials are killing Colonials, but I know you will do your duty. You have been trained for this, you have faced things most would never have expected, and together, united we will rise up once more. Good luck, and good hunting.

“Send jump prep calculations to the Fleet, and sync the time with the Abh Hyperspace lanes. Prepare to jump.”

Debeusec shifted his head ever so slightly as he blinked emotionlessly at the ambassador. "An easy enough question. The Warstar Isis was destroyed in Imperial space. What crew we could save and take prisoner, have been turned over to our allies in the Colonies. The Dornalians aboard the ship were sent back to Earth. As for your Admiral Cain, she was killed."

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

Twilight was a little weary of taking lessons in being closer to Kythons. Such things would be frowned upon by most of the Empire though she had come to learn that there was a difference between the Balroggan and Godulan Kythons. The Balroggans were actually friendly if given the chance.

But ultimately the enticing promises of power are what won her over. Her quest for power and to grow stronger was ever in her mind. "Very well. I have a few missions to carry out for the Order concerning the new library that Darth Atrox is constructing. You may teach me while we are away.

I am not sure if you or your counterpart require anything for extended trips. If so, I will have them delivered to my ship once we return to Imperial space."

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

Gaf'ton could feel the stares coming at him from all over the bridge though if it bothered him, he did not show it. The Abriel understood the tenderness of the situation all thanks to a young Abh that had been afforded too much freedom in his youth. That was currently being rectified thanks to Gaf'ton's efforts and influence.

Instead he remained stoic in his expressions as Adama gave his speech. Once he was finished, Gaf'ton scooped up the package delivered by the Dornalians.

"Well said. Now with your permission, I have a wardrobe change I need to attend to."

With Adama's permission, Gaf'ton took the new items to his quarters and began changing. The Dornalian uniform was comfortable enough though far from the usefulness of his own Star Forces uniform. Pristinely folding his old uniform, the Imperial Admiral placed it inside the envelope along with his Star Forces issued sidearm. Gaf'ton took the Dornalian pistol and placed it in its respective holster. Fully decked out in his new uniform, the Abriel looked disdainfully at the hair dye. Few Abh had ever dyed their hair and still fewer Abriels.

With a few grumbles, Gaf'ton applied the blond hair dye. Gaf'ton took off his tiara and tossed it on the bed. After a quick look at studying himself in the mirror, the Abriel stormed out of his room.

He arrived a few minutes later back on the bridge in a sour mood and looking like a Dornalian elf. Gaf'ton stood there next to Adama with his arms crossed and a glare in his one eye. "By the stars, I'll have who ever thought this was a good idea burned and grounded into space particles."

Outside the Abriel's fuming the Star Forces fleet lead by Lafiel, reentered Hyperspace and jumped for the borders of Colonial space.

Debeusec shifted his head ever so slightly as he blinked emotionlessly at the ambassador. "An easy enough question. The Warstar Isis was destroyed in Imperial space. What crew we could save and take prisoner, have been turned over to our allies in the Colonies. The Dornalians aboard the ship were sent back to Earth. As for your Admiral Cain, she was killed."
The Coredian Ambassador, to his credit, did not stir at the news and his face remained as poker-faced as it was meant to be. "It is unfortunate that such a terrible incident have occurred. It is also unfortunate that Admiral Cain was killed in battle. And it is fortunate that the prisoners have been released as quickly as possible."

"Your Majesty, if I may ask...does this incident mean war between the Twelve Colonies and the Abh Empire?" A touch of sadness etched the Masaki elder's voice. "If so, Coredia would like to offer mediation."

OOC: Moving things along here with this next post--if Abh finds this part not okay, I can remove it. I got a full plate to take care of.

IC:


Drama is life with the dull bits cut out.

--Alfred Hitchcock

POW Area

Aminta then heard a commotion from the Dornalian section of the yard, as she then said to Ceilia, "Listen--it was nice talking to you again, Ben. I'll write you again." With a smile, she then closed the transmission, and then went back to the yard.

In the middle of the basketball court, Townshend was standing there with a paper in his hand, and an Abh officer next to him.

"Okay, boys and girls. It seems that the Abh have decided to let us go....get any and all personal effects, and line up in alphabetical order, four lines, one from A-F, one from G-L, one to M-R, and the last until Z, or Zed if you're from Merry Olde England. We'll be shipped back to Mother Dornalia's arms on civvie transports, back to Earth directly. By the sound of things, they seem spartan but livable. Now, line up!"

The crewmen thus began to move, eager to get home as they whistled and hooted, to the tune of Townshend going, "Knock it off, let's go!"

THe prisoners lined up after getting everything, the Abh immediately had them filed out....as Aminta got into line, Aminta smiled. Her script was in hand, and was sure to make someone a star....

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

A Gagarin II shuttle from Vobayrunyay, bedecked in Dornalian Colors, soon warped next to Galactica, and delivered a message.

"Galactica Actual, this is Little Knife. We have here Captain Johansen's staff....they're eager to meet their new boss, over."

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

Hollywood, Earth SSR

"No, no no.....I won't do another damn Kung Fu project. There's been too many kung fu movies already, and the profits have tanked on that last one. Un-fuckin-acceptable."

The man leaned his head forward, as he rubbed his head on his forehead. So far, Max Thompson, head of People's Pictures, was in a bind. His company's last movie effort, Son of Zhao Pai Lon, an adaptation of a Japanese comic book, was a flop. Critically, it was savaged as an "overacted mess." COmmercially, it didn't even make back the salary of the production assistants. And when Production Assistants weren't paid positions, that gave you an idea of how bad the movie did.

In fact, his studio recently, aside from a series of romantic comedies, had been bombing. ConFilm had been winning more market share, and its movies were always doing better. And even that little Canadian outlet, WereCat Films, was doing better than them, with its edgy line of independent flicks. People's, in contrast, was seen as a state-sponsored dinosaur--a remnant of an era people were too willing to forget, of state-financed agitprop with cardboard characters and well-worn plots. And it even lost its state-sponsored financing in the recent round of privatization.

"So people, we need a hit. We need a hit and we need it now. Something hip, edgy, modern. COme on, think!"

One flunky suggested, "Um, we could have a single female lawyer, and how she gets crippled in an accident."

"We did that movie," Max said sternly to the flunky.

"Oh."

One man, a catgirl, raised her hand.

"I gots an idea. Something my cousin made."

Max looked at the catgirl, and replied, "I'm all ears, Alejandra. We need something."

Alejandra then pulled out Aminta's script. "My cousin wrote this, and sent me the treatment and a transcription of the text during her time in jail...you know, for that Isis thing?"

Max then widened his eyes, and muttered, "Wow, lemme see that." Everyone in the room by now had heard of the Isis incident, with the diplomatic traffic that occasionally flew about on public transmissions and the JRCCC press reports.

Snatching the script from Alejandra, he began reading, and said as he flipped through the pages, "About fucking time somebody got me an original script. This smells like a winner. It's written by someone who was there.....has human drama......oh wow. Combat. And it's a Navy woman--I was Navy myself." He then put down the script and said, "Alejandra, you're our last chance. You got the cash. But we need to change the name of the script. Contents Under Pressure sounds like an emo band. Let's change it to....."

HE then threw his hands in the air and said, "The Crossroads of Destiny! Perfect! Anywho, you got the funds, tell your cousin that we'd like to option her script. Ask her friends too!"

Alejandra nodded and said, "Excellent."

Alejandra then asked her cousin Aminta to use the script, and before long, after consulting with her fellow survivors, she got the okay to do it, despite some big objections. The money changed hands, and before long, Aminta and her friends went to meet with the studio bigwigs....and the Abh diplomats in Los Angeles would get a strange letter.

"To whom it may concern--

We are making a motion picture that concerns events involving the Abh Star Forces--owing to its sensitive nature, we will not explain what it is at this time. Suffice to say that such an explanation would be redundant, as it involves a certain recent crisis.

Anywho, we would like to request the presence of any and all Star Forces personnel who were involved in said incident, to ensure accuracy of technical details and events and to prevent undue defamation.

Sincerely,

Alejandra Luisa-chibi
Producer
People's Pictures
Hollywood, CA, WSND"

Debeusec had been alive and in power too long to not see when certain answers affected foreign diplomats. It mattered little to him either way.

"Your Majesty, if I may ask...does this incident mean war between the Twelve Colonies and the Abh Empire?" A touch of sadness etched the Masaki elder's voice. "If so, Coredia would like to offer mediation."

The Abh Emperor's head stood a little bit straighter. "That has yet to be determined. Nothing official has been declared by this Empire though we have certainly received some colorful messages from outsiders.

Besides, what does Coredia hope to mediate? If the Abh should declare war on the Colonies, it will only be because the Colonies have brought it on themselves by firing first."

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

The message from the film studio was certainly interesting. A rather young diplomat received the message with a smile. He had recently replaced a season veteran of the political realm and was looking to make his way up the Imperial chain while enjoying his stay in New Dornalia. Certainly LA had proven enjoyable for the ambassador.

Though what was expected of him from such a request was beyond the young man.

"Hell, what could it hurt."

A message was soon sent back to the studio.

"From the chair of Ambassador Dylan Howe:

While some matters concerning that incident are still sensitive in the eyes of the military, I believe it would be reasonable to provide you with a few names of those that were involved along with location of such an incident. With the right word or two, a few live action recordings of the battle could even be acquired.

For further information, please contact the Dutchee Latopanyu of Admiral Spoor. She will be most helpful in relaying details. That is if you can manage to track her down and draw her to the ground world. I must warn you that it will take some convincing to bring an Abh to the ground worlds.

All the best,
Ambassador Dylan Howe
Abh Empire."

A message was soon sent back to the studio.

"From the chair of Ambassador Dylan Howe:

While some matters concerning that incident are still sensitive in the eyes of the military, I believe it would be reasonable to provide you with a few names of those that were involved along with location of such an incident. With the right word or two, a few live action recordings of the battle could even be acquired.

For further information, please contact the Dutchee Latopanyu of Admiral Spoor. She will be most helpful in relaying details. That is if you can manage to track her down and draw her to the ground world. I must warn you that it will take some convincing to bring an Abh to the ground worlds.

All the best,
Ambassador Dylan Howe
Abh Empire."

If you build it, he will come.

--Field of Dreams

The reply was not unexpected, for Alejandra, being from the rough-and-tumble world of Hollywood Studio Politics, was used to all sorts of kooks, nuts, egotists and eccentrics. And, it seemed this "Spoor" was probably another one. No matter, she couldn't be as bad as the last director Alejandra financed.

Picking up the phone, she then called her go-to man, Lou.

"Lou? THis is Alejandra.....I need to find out the HoloNet domain code for the Abh Empire? Oh, you mean each Individual Territory has their own domain? Oh that was just a misnomer. Well, whatever--I need the number of the Dutchess Latopanyu, Admiral Spoor, was it? It's very important."

A pause, and Lou put her on hold. Five minutes later, the cheesy elevator music stopped, and then the conversation picked up again.

"Lou--oh, right. Okay, so she's there....a military frequency? Well, Lou, I did my National Service, but I think that hardly qualifies me to use a military frequency. Well, she has a civil address too...that's good, but the man from the Embassy down on Wilshire says we need to track her down, she seems like a nut or a busy woman. Well, if you say so.....I'll just send it over somehow. THanks."

She then composed a short transmission, and sent it to any and all potential avenues--be they military connections (the ones she could access), diplomatic pouch, or the Dutchess's own domain itself--where she could be contacted. It was a letter, encrypted via Dornalia Post's own Secure Encryption services, which was prefaced by a simple message.

"To whom it may concern--

Please ensure this letter is forwarded to the Dutchess Latopanyu, Admiral Spoor as soon as possible. Thank you.


Alejandra Luisa-chibi
Producer
People's Pictures
Hollywood, CA, WSND"

The longer letter, once Spoor would recieve it, would thusly read in both Dornalian English and admittedly halting and overly formalized Baronh, possibly partly machine translated:

"Your Highness--

We at People's Pictures are a venerable, and ancient company dedicated to the production of motion pictures and other such artistic works. Recently, we have acquired the rights to a motion picture screenplay based on recent events in which you participated.

Due to their far-reaching effects on galactic history, it is not necessary to mention what they are. It is only necessary to say that we intend to seek your cooperation, being that you are a high-ranking member of Star Forces and someone present at D'hara at the time of the incident, in order to accurately portray the Star Forces in this picture.

Should you decide to provide assistance, rest assuredly we at People's Pictures are prepared to reward you handsomely for your services and time through monetary compensation, as well as any other goods and services you request as reasonably as possible.

We will understand if the request is refused--you are a military officer and surely occupied with the need to defend the Empire. However, it has been said that the Abh prize elegance and professionalism--perhaps this motion picture would be an excellent way to demonstrate both?

Please reply as soon as possible.

Alejandra Luisa-chibi
Producer
People's Pictures
Hollywood, CA, WSND"

It was the night of broken glass, as the main doors to the Solaria’s CIC shattered under the batteries of the combined Dornie and Caprican fleets. The ship rattled and rolled as the space around her, was being saturated with enemy fire. Demolishers, EMP, Ion, Salvo, as well as the new recent viper attacks, were making the situation, very difficult.

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

The commander found himself on the floor, as the ship shook like a 6.9 Earthquake began to shake under his feet. His head was pounding, his heart racing, as he reached up to grab the planning table. The ship shook again.

“Status.” he yelled out, as a piece of metal fell from the panel above, shaken lose from the fight, nearly hitting the Commander.

“FTL has been taken out.” one of the officers said, his face smudged with oil and grease, as he frantically worked under his console to get his system back online.”

“The bow is in the red.” the damage control officer shouted. “Bulkheads have been sealed and all fuel and air vented, but sir, we can’t take many more hits on the bow.

“Engine 4, 7, 10 and 12 are offline. Re-routing fuel to those systems.”

“DITA is offline, Flak Grin 98-125 is offline. Sir if he take another hit to port, we are done for.”

The commander nodded, as he grabbed a bandage and began to wrap his hand. “Status of fleet?” he asked.

“They are not the main focus sir, but Caprica is giving them one hell of a pounding. 2/3rds of our viper squadron are gone, reserves are loading in the launch tubes.”

The ship shook again, and as it did, Draidus above him, exploded, in a waterfall of sparks and white light.

“Draidus is down.” an enlisted woman screamed.

“Deaf, blind, and dumb...” the commander growled as the situation was going from Bad to Worse. He shook his head, as he watched the models on the table scatter before the wake of the munitions of the fleets. He would gladly die for Tauron, he would gladly sacrifice all he had for his planet, and his people, but as he looked around the room, at all the young men and women, he didn’t know of he could ask the same of them. Not this time.

“Sir.” another woman yelled frantically. “Wide spread fires on B deck ,sections 32-79. Bulkheads are failing, if they get to the munitions in section 80...” she yelled.

“Vent that compartment now.” the commander stood up, yelling at the damage control coordinator.

“Sir, I got over 500 men in that area, give me a minute to get them out of there.”

The commander walked over to her, and watched the panels. The fire was spreading horribly, as the lucky demolisher shot beat through the armor. “Seal it off now.” he yelled.

“Sir I just need thirty seconds.” she pleaded with the Commander in vain.

“In thirty seconds we will lose the ship.” Personally reaching over, he touched the screen, automatically sealing the deck.

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

B-Deck, section 45:

The fire blazed, as Specialist Franklin held up the fire suppressant hose. The heat was unbearable, as he breathed in the O2 from his mask. His hands burned, his boots were melting against the metal floor, but he tried to hold the line. Spraying white foam, in vain at the fire, he tried to hold out as long as he could.

The air was black, as he looked through his mask. Only the dim light of the raging inferno that surrounded him was visible as he moved forward, spraying the only weapon he had.

He was scared, who the hell wouldn’t be as he fought against the fire which burned with the rage of hell against him, and his one hose.

The ship began to moan and rattle, as he found himself knocked to his feet. The tanks on his back were heavy, and he struggled to stand up. “Oh frak.” he said out in terror, as he tried to roll over...

Suddenly he felt himself floating, and flying out towards the bulkhead wall. His skin burned, then began to freeze. It was the last feeling he would have.

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

The flaming Solaria, continued to lumber forward, as she was pounded from every angle, along with the rest of Tauron fleet. It was a losing fight, out numbered, outgunned, bodies floating out of the flames, to all concerned, it was obvious, this fight would not last much longer.



The commander watched as he pressed the button, condemning so many of his crew to death. His heart was filled with sorrow, as he looked out to the smoke filled CIC. There wasn’t anything left to do, he had fought as well as he could, done all anyone could have asked for him. Was this fight against their brothers worth the lives of all his crew? He never thought he would see this day.

Reluctantly, he walked to the coms. “Patch me through, to the Caprican and Dornie fleets.” he said reluctantly.

“Sir, Main transmitter is down?”

“Secondary?” he asked.

“Barely, signal strength is weak.”

The commander nodded. “Use that then.”

Reluctantly he picked up the phone. His hand shook, partly from the pain, and partly due to the fact he was about to commit an unforgivable sin against Tauron.

“This is Solaria Actual, Command Vessel of Tauron fleet over Caprica. Tauron fleet is to stand down. We surrender. Request immediate evac and medical aid to all personal on board. I repeat, We surrender. All Tauronese personal are to stand down.”

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

Killjoy jetted his viper across from the Dornie frakker who decided to ride his ass like a cowboy at a rodeo. Jetting side to side, and using every damn trick a viper could, he barely managed to avoid several killing shots against his viper, as he continued this dance with this frakker.

He flipped his viper again, as he tried to laterally fall down on this bastard, as the three main cannons on the vipers shot towards it’s target. “Alright you bitch.” he said as he accelerated his viper towards it’s target.

The coms began to hiss. “All squadrons, Solaria Actual. Authentication code 3RHS-4231-6Y9P-JHZW. You are ordered to stand down.”

“What the hell?” he said as he watched the flames burn from several of the battlestars near by. “Solaria, Killjoy, order received.” he said. He then pulled up, and laid off the fire, and began to slow down to cruising speed.

Nicholas Angel: I'm taking you to the station.
[pause]
Nicholas Angel: Where is it?

--Hot Fuzz

"SHIT!"

The impact of Battlestar Solaria against the bulk of the Heatseeker was certainly something that would stick in Commodore Gordon's mind for a while. The screeching of metal, the rumbling, the deep *KATHUNK!* of steel on steel contact followed by loud klaxons and angry cries of injured personnel......for a moment, the Heatseeker became a little slice of Hell.

Gordon crawled up, and radioed "MEdical teams, assist injured, NOW! Engineering, damage!"

"Layers 6-4 are dead, moderate damage to weapons reported--Masada shields took the brunt of it. We got damage to power conduits all over the area of impact, and shield generators are freaking out. We got minor structural damage--loose crap that flew everywhere--but most damage is in power systems and electrical. Still, I'll be damned, it's a miracle we got this far."

Gordon nodded. Indeed, most ships would have collapsed under that. The fact such results were reported was, needless to say, quite miraculous indeed, given that a battlestar had made a kamikaze run with full armament.

The Tactical Display crackled then, as Solaria's message could be heard.



“This is Solaria Actual, Command Vessel of Tauron fleet over Caprica. Tauron fleet is to stand down. We surrender. Request immediate evac and medical aid to all personal on board. I repeat, We surrender. All Tauronese personal are to stand down.”

Gordon then got up and said, "All units. Prepare any engineering teams not busy fixing things up and several units of Marines and Naval Armsmen, prep the transporters, prepare to board Tauronese ships and initiate processing and assistance procedures."

The Security Officer on the comms nodded and said, "Aye, sir."

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

The crew of the Solaria would then be greeted by sudden flashes of light, and then teams of men in Dornalian uniforms and armor running about. First, there were the Naval Armsmen in "Donald Duck" suits, with rifles, accompanied by Marines in Shield Steel suits, who would begin calling for the men to form up and surrender their weapons. Then, as they would do so, a strange ritual would begin.

One Armsman walked up to the commander of the Solaria, and said, "Commander, I'm authorized to put you under arrest under the Colonial Fleet Uniform Code of Justice. Put your hands behind your head, surrender all arms. You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to counsel, anything you say can be used against you in a courts-martial," and so forth. Indeed, with the application of handcuffs, it resembled an arrest.

Similar scenes occurred throughout the ship, and indeed the Tauron Contingent, as the Armsmen frisked the newly minted prisoners and processed them like policemen were wont to do, even reading them their rights. Oddly enough, considering that many of them were Masters-at-Arms on the Heatseeker, and thus trained police, this wasn't out of the way for them. Weapons were confiscated, and teleport markers placed on the batches for transport to the Heatseeker's cargo. In the meantime, Engineers set to work making the Solaria somewhat stable, so they could tow it back to a safe harbor for refit and repair.

Shuttles, meanwhile, waited to take the prisoners onto the ships, along with teleport pads. There, more Armsmen would be waiting to place them in temporary holding in the Cargo Bays, until a space could be found to hold them somewhere.

“What the hell?” he said as he watched the flames burn from several of the battlestars near by. “Solaria, Killjoy, order received.” he said. He then pulled up, and laid off the fire, and began to slow down to cruising speed.



Jazz saw them slow up, and back down--and thus said, "Time to go...."

Prettyboy called in and said, "Jazz, the call's out. They surrendered."

"Shit."

Prettyboy continued, "Make sure they stay surrendered. Instruct them to return to their vessels for processing immediately."

"Roger."

Jazz then flashed a message to Killjoy's Viper.

"Tauronese starfighters, this is just a reminder from my boss. I'm sure you've heard this. Get back to your ships, ASAP."
-----------------------

With that, JRCCC heard the news of the surrender at Caprica, and MacIntyre pumped his fist into the air, screaming, "Fuck yes!"

De Bruyn, meanwhile, greeted the news with a "Good." He knew that this was the first step, but not the only one. There were more to contend with.

Maya shook her head, “No, just like all Kythons, Ktzzazs only needs energy to survive. They can absorb sufficient amounts of light or other solar radiation to keep them active, they can use energy based weapons fire, or they can eat matter by disintegrate the molecular bonds releasing the stored energy. The last one they would have to physically place items in their mouth and activate their disintegration to function. Kythons merged into a Shipmind, like this vessel, distribute the needed power to maintain their forms through contact and the ship’s systems. Standing on the deck should suffice for Ktzzazs.”

Maya looked up at her new pupil. She did not plan on taking the standard approach other instructors took; she could already see that would not work with Twilight’s personality, she had to find another way to teach her how to use her budding telepathy. It wasn’t like there were a lot of examples to use, from her quick check using her Childer Link; only one other Outsider has the ability to directly communicate with Kythons. The case of Sunshine is completely different for she already had the telepathic abilities needed. Maya had a tough job ahead of her.

Being completely honest, Maya addressed Twilight. “I am not sure of the best way to proceed with your training. For now I will make it completely voluntary on your behalf. I only ask you to try communicating with the ship using your ability instead of your voice so you get used to the idea.”

“Eventually you will find the information you request being delivered much faster than if you used your words. The ship will react at your thoughts and the whole vessel will become an extension of your body. You will not have to even be aboard to pilot the ship through complex maneuvers and you will be able to tap into the sensors as if you are the ship itself seeing for light years in every direction. You will be able to coordinate maneuvers of multiple vessels while knowing what each sees and experiences. This is the Battlemind Kythons possess, the ability that makes them hated on the battle field. You shoot at one and every unit on the field knows the path of that shot and can avoid it or use the energy to power their replication. Kythons never hit each other even when performing their intricate swarming maneuvers, they know where every other unit is at all times. The power that alone provides is something the Jedi and the Sith use to force their minds into that of the others on the field. You would possess it without needing to use your own Force abilities. Think what you would be able to do with this ability.”

“Your Shipmind is much stronger than Ktzzazs is alone. Practicing on the Shipmind should open you up to being able to communicate with the whisper of a solitary Kython. For this reason Ktzzazs has volunteered to remain separate from the Shipmind instead of merging with your ship. When your abilities are honed to an edge where you can practice on it, Ktzzazs will help you get stronger.”

Maya paused. She just realized she was doing all the talking and she had accidently began lecturing. She did not want to do that so she halted and took a breath.

“Sorry about rambling on like that. Please let me know when I start doing it again so I can stop.”

“Does this interest you? Think about it and let me know. For now try practicing with your Shipmind.”

The reply was not unexpected, for Alejandra, being from the rough-and-tumble world of Hollywood Studio Politics, was used to all sorts of kooks, nuts, egotists and eccentrics. And, it seemed this "Spoor" was probably another one. No matter, she couldn't be as bad as the last director Alejandra financed.

It might be a little frightening to Alejandra if she were to learn that Spoor was all of those things. There was little that could not be said about the Admiral Spoor though she was not limited to those few qualities. Boredom was ever her greatest enemy and a worthy foe it was as it always seemed to plague the poor Duchess wherever she travelled. From one boring outpost to the next, the Abh lead her fleet on their routine patrols in time of peace.

Most of Benej's servants were also well aware of her constant struggle. So when the message came through after passing through the Imperial Office with the Emperor's blessings, they quickly had a runner sent to find their Duchess and deliver the message. The calicke exited plane space ahead of Spoor's fleet and waited for her arrival. Once she exited space time, the calicke immediately made to dock with Latchkau.

Chief of Staff Cufadiss was the first to receive the message. When he first scanned the letter, his eyes nearly fell from their sockets with shock. Shock gave way to laughter as he could barely control himself.

Admiral Spoor's crimson eyes drifted lazily to her Chief. Scorn and derision seeped into her voice. "My dear Chief. Do you mind sharing with the rest of the crew is so amusing? We could all use a bit of amusement with these constant droll assignments. One bit of excitement and it's back to the constant grind."

Cufadiss had little to say to his Admiral whom he had served faithfully throughout his time at her side. He merely handed the letter over.

Spoor snatched the paper from his hand and read it slowly. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Is this some sort of joke?"

It was not the answer Cufadiss was expecting. He had hoped his Admiral would be pleased by the possibility of a new assignment albeit away from the military field. He cleared his throat to get her attention. "I think they are serious ma'am. It would be an excellent opportunity to show how great the Abh Empire is to others through this movie."

Spoor's features relaxed slightly. "To think me, the great Duchess Latopanyu, reduced to a Hollywood actress. It would be shameful."

"I think you have it all wrong, Admiral. They are taking the opportunity to show how great our Admiral is in battle. They ask for your presence because only Admiral Spoor can properly show how Admiral Spoor acts." And that was no joke. You had to see how insane she was to truly believe it.

A small smile came to her face as she relaxed with her massaging her delicate chin. "You make a good point. If nothing else, this will at least change the monotony of our constant patrols. There is no war on after all. Let's all take this time for a vacation."

Cufadiss's eyes went wide again. "Vacation? As in all of us?"

"Why of course dear chief. You don't think I would honestly take time off without my ship coming with me? Who would trust to command such a great vessel besides myself?"

"B-b-b-but what about the rest of the fleet?"

Spoor flipped her hand dismissively. "They can return to the Duchee and remain there until I return. If always, head quarters may recall them and merge the fleet with the others."

"B-b-b-b-b-but ma'am..."

The Admiral turned towards the chief with a small grin. "Don't worry, I'm planning on telling HQ this was all your idea. Now send a response to these people and let them know we are coming."

Cufadiss gulped then sloughed in his chair as he prepared the appropriate response. He suddenly felt so very small in a vast universe. Admiral Spoor was ready for Hollywood, but was Hollywood ready for Spoor.

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

Twilight was not overly concerned with the teaching methods of Maya. As long as the Childer was capable of imparting the knowledge to the Abh, then that was satisfactory to Jessyka's needs. Power came in all its various forms and Darth Twilight would not reject any of them.

She listened carefully as she was told how the mind-link worked in various ways. Not unlike a battle meditation of sorts, the power itself was beginning to make relative sense to her.

Jessyka knelt down in the center the bridge and focused her mind on the ship itself. She unplugged her frochaj which allowed her to do much of what Maya had just said was capable through the Shipmind. Instead, she used her new mental powers to think of what the ship should do.

The Interceptor pushed forward slightly at Twilight's bidding. Soon it was accelerating at a smooth rate once she had the feel for it under control. Twilight upgraded to more intricate maneuvers with the craft doing rolls and high speed banks. Suddenly she brought the craft back to a halt.

Twilight opened her eyes and looked at Maya. "Tell me more."

EDIT: OOC: For those of you that may be ready to say something about an Abh warship appearing over Earth when no one else is allowed. The movie plot line takes place a few days after the attacks and normalcy has returned. It is a bit unrealistic, after all, to have Amnita's script in her friend's hands after just being released from prison.

Cufadiss gulped then sloughed in his chair as he prepared the appropriate response. He suddenly felt so very small in a vast universe. Admiral Spoor was ready for Hollywood, but was Hollywood ready for Spoor.

EDIT: OOC: For those of you that may be ready to say something about an Abh warship appearing over Earth when no one else is allowed. The movie plot line takes place a few days after the attacks and normalcy has returned. It is a bit unrealistic, after all, to have Amnita's script in her friend's hands after just being released from prison.



Meetings are a great trap. Soon you find yourself trying to get agreement and then the people who disagree come to think they have a right to be persuaded. However, they are indispensable when you don't want to do anything.

--John Kenneth Galbraith

The ship was promptly recieved by space traffic control at Che Guevara Station, with a simple, "Admiral Spoor, this is Che Guevara Station. You are cleared to dock at Gate 12--your party is waiting."

Earth's space was busy indeed--Spoor would be used to the hustle and bustle of trading, but the space lanes above Earth were something. Ships of all sizes and shapes, big ones, small ones, People's Navy vessels of the Red Banner Fleet and more were in presence. Indeed, Spoor had come to a place that could call her craziness and raise it.

As the Admiral would make her way onto Che Guevara, she would be greeted first by a piece of propaganda exhorting citizens to help the homeless, and then by a pair of catgirls and a man who looked all smiles. The man extended his arm out and said, "On behalf of People's Pictures, I'm Max Thompson, CEO. Thank you for coming--thank you!" His eyes seemed desperate, as if he was banking his hopes on Spoor's presence. He would shake Spoor's and Cufadiss's and whoever else came along's hands with a trained sense of flattery, and not a little limpness.

One of the catgirls, a woman in a sharp business suit, would shake Spoor's and Cufadiss's and whoever else came along's hands less desperately and said, "Good day. I am Alejandra Luisa-chibi--I believe we corresponded about the picture." With a firm confidence, she showed her cousin, and said, "This is Aminta Jacinta-chibi, my cousin. She wrote the script."

Dressed in her Dress Blues, Aminta clicked her heels and delivered a hearty salute, saying, "Honored to meet you, ma'am," before extending her hand out. She too would shake Spoor's and Cufadiss's and whoever else came along's hands with a firmness, and a sense of warmth.

"Good. Now, let's get onto the Space Elevator. I got a car waiting at LAX and it can't wait any longer. Jerk says he'll add on extra money for every minute." Alejandra then motioned for the Abh to follow them.

As they went down the elevator to the sunny clime of LAX, a voice spoke after a soft *ding*.

"Attention. Welcome to Los Angeles International Spaceport. For your safety, please do not leave valuables unattended. Thank you."

The message would play in Spanish, Japanese, Baronh, and German, among other languages.

Debeusec had been alive and in power too long to not see when certain answers affected foreign diplomats. It mattered little to him either way.


The Abh Emperor's head stood a little bit straighter. "That has yet to be determined. Nothing official has been declared by this Empire though we have certainly received some colorful messages from outsiders.

Besides, what does Coredia hope to mediate? If the Abh should declare war on the Colonies, it will only be because the Colonies have brought it on themselves by firing first."
"We simply hate to see friends fighting friends." The Ambassador replied calmly. "Just because you are at war doesn't mean that we can't still seek an ending to such a war, however futile it may be. It's just the way we Coredians are. I believe that's everything my Government has seen fit to ask of the Abh Empire."

"We simply hate to see friends fighting friends." The Ambassador replied calmly. "Just because you are at war doesn't mean that we can't still seek an ending to such a war, however futile it may be. It's just the way we Coredians are. I believe that's everything my Government has seen fit to ask of the Abh Empire."

"I would hardly consider some of the things said by your government to us as friendly. But if that is all there is, then I'm afraid you came a very long way for a short conversation that could have been conducted simply through correspondence.

Have a safe journey home, ambassador."

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

When a calicke from the Latchkau docked witht he space station, only Admiral Spoor and her Chief of Staff departed from the shuttle. The rest of her crew remained behind to attend to the ship and then join them down on the planet when all arrangements had been made.

The man extended his arm out and said, "On behalf of People's Pictures, I'm Max Thompson, CEO. Thank you for coming--thank you!"

Spoor and Cufadiss shook their respective hands in turn. "It is quite alright Mr. Thompson. The chief and I are here to make sure the accuracy of the events are upheld and everything is painted in its proper respect. Besides, my crew could use the vacation from the boring patrols."

The Abh followed their guides to the space elevator and began their descent down to the planet. THere were countless such elevators in the Abh Empire so the constant noise of travelers and the protocol of it all, hardly bothered them. Once planetside, they followed their guides out into the open.

It was the first time in many years since Spoor had been to a ground world so it was interesting to see how little things had changed in human societies. "Before we get started, my crew will need a place to stay. Preferably one of your finer hotels around an entertainment atmosphere. The cost really does not matter to me."

"I would hardly consider some of the things said by your government to us as friendly. But if that is all there is, then I'm afraid you came a very long way for a short conversation that could have been conducted simply through correspondence.

Have a safe journey home, ambassador."
"Merely public statements to support one policy or another. Nothing more. Our private stance towards the Abh Empire remains unchanged. May the Force be with you." The Ambassador assured the Abh Emperor as he got up from his seat and bowed to the Emperor in respect and was escorted to his shuttle.

When he did leave Abh space, only then did he say what was best left unsaid in public, with a tinge of foresight. "For now, my Abh friend. For now."

When a calicke from the Latchkau docked witht he space station, only Admiral Spoor and her Chief of Staff departed from the shuttle. The rest of her crew remained behind to attend to the ship and then join them down on the planet when all arrangements had been made.

The man extended his arm out and said, "On behalf of People's Pictures, I'm Max Thompson, CEO. Thank you for coming--thank you!"

Spoor and Cufadiss shook their respective hands in turn. "It is quite alright Mr. Thompson. The chief and I are here to make sure the accuracy of the events are upheld and everything is painted in its proper respect. Besides, my crew could use the vacation from the boring patrols."

The Abh followed their guides to the space elevator and began their descent down to the planet. THere were countless such elevators in the Abh Empire so the constant noise of travelers and the protocol of it all, hardly bothered them. Once planetside, they followed their guides out into the open.

It was the first time in many years since Spoor had been to a ground world so it was interesting to see how little things had changed in human societies. "Before we get started, my crew will need a place to stay. Preferably one of your finer hotels around an entertainment atmosphere. The cost really does not matter to me."

Alejandra flipped open her PDA, and typed in a location. "We have a block of rooms reserved for you and your staff at the Grand Palacio, located in Downtown. You'll find its quite entertaining--if not for the things to do, than at the very least, the very amusing occurences of the everyday."

Max was about to note the fact it was in fact the most expensive hotel in town, but he said nothing. After all, this Admiral Spoor seemed to only worry if it was near anything fun; the cost was no object. Hence, he kept his mouth shut.

Spoor would enter the sunny climate of Southern California. Even in the relatively misnamed "Winter" months, Los Angeles was still a balmy sixty degrees, and pleasantly comfortable. The party was escorted to their transport--a fleet of limousines eager to take them to the Grand Palacio. After comfortably sitting inside, Spoor and Cufadiss were sped onto the hustle and bustle that was Los Angeles traffic, surrounded by skyscrapers, advertisments for this cola and that car, and the rolling California hills.

Alejandra immediately began to talk.

"Right. I figure since we're all here, we can do an impromptu jam session." Pulling out what looked like a packet of papers, she then indicated, "This is the script we've got so far. We're working on casting, financing, and building the sets. That's where you, Your Highness, comes in--to make sure that the Abh side of things is correct. Also, if it helps, we might also need your assistance in getting the Abh side of the story--we need some scenes from the Abh point of view, and in order to get a more balanced story, we need your side."

As this occurred, Aminta looked at Cufadiss, and noted his generally sullen demeanor. She then smiled at him and asked, "So, what's your job, Mr.--Cufadiss, was it?" eager to make small talk while her cousin did the dirty work.

(OOC: ND, I am not feeling well right now. If you want to, please RP the invasion of Mars/Earth. You know the plans, so I trust you with it. Otherwise it might be tomorrow for the post. This way we can get it out of the way, and on with your movie)

OOC: Will do. This following post is based on a rough sketch; the original plans are on my other compy, currently in the shop. However, I remember enough to go on, har har ;).

Again, all of this is before the thing with Abh involving his people going to Hollywood. Way before. So no whinin', y'all hear?

IC:


Somewhere outside the Solar System

Commander Gerard Leutwein looked at his Chronometer, and then observed the DRADIS screen, monitoring his comms. The ten Battlestars, Mercury classes all, were fine war machines. He didn't know of the defeat at Caprica, but he knew that this mission was a big one. Metaxas himself had made sure of that, committing the ten last Tauronese Battlestars for this job.

"Sir, transmission from Little Wing. They report mousetrap's been sprung, repeat mousetrap's been sprung, over," came the XO.

"Excellent." He then called to the Raptors near Neptune marked "Little Wing," "Little Wing, this is Leonidas Actual. Return to base." Leutwein then ordered, "All ships, this is Leutwein. Initiate Attack Plan Romeo, repeat, Initiate Attack Plan Romeo."

Putting down the Gertrude, he then leaned forth as the jump drives spun up, and moved out....

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

Near Mars

Commodore Zhao's Gracie unit immediately squawked, "Sir! Incoming signatures....they're Mercury Class Battlestars!"

Zhao nodded and said, "As expected." He then picked up his own Gertrude and replied, "All units, this is Zhao. Enemy sighted. Welcome him with a Wedge Formation, lights in front, heavies in back, over."

The Red Banner Fleet units at Mars began to move quickly, and the result was that Leutwein's Tauronese were now faced with a mass of Dornalians coming at them in tall, wide V coming at them.

To that, Leutwein smiled. He had counted on the Dornalians, competent sailors as they were and damn good fighter, to be the Big Sister in the United Colonies and to dismiss the Battlestars as inferior, and move in guns blazing. Well, he was about to show them this wasn't a war movie. This was just war. He decided to try a tactic the Dornalians loved.

"All units. Shortjump to enemy's right flank underside, begin opening up with forward batteries and flak."

Leutwein's Battlestar's shortjumped to the right flank, and their guns began picking at the Drone Ships in the wedge--all fine and good, as they were expendable. But Zhou hadn't expected him to flank immediately.

"Fuck. This guy got into our Tac Manuals. Okay, let's show him something else. Left flank, swarm him and shortjump him!"

In reply, Zhou ordered his right flank forces to begin dumping Demolisher Gun fire and Ion Torpedo fire upon the Tauronese, whilst the Left Flank's Drone SHips and Lin Biaos moved to swarm the BSG's. And, the heavies of Zhou's force also shortjumped above and behind Lieutwein.

However, to his credit, Leutwein had only just begun to take damage. His officers replied, "Sir, DITA's holding at 81%. Flak's doing a good job, but there's a lot of them. Engineering is working like frak to get the systems working."

Leutwein nodded. He then said, "Good. How's our Jump Drives?"

"They'll need some time to spool up and get working again."

"Hmm." Leutwein nodded and said, on the Gertrude, "All units, this is Commander Leutwein. Initiate declension on the galactic plane. Sister seeks to have her way with us--we don't do that."

Thus, the Mercuries began moving downwards, and Zhou could only order a pursuit, firing away as he had his units attempt to reflank Leutwein from multiple angles.

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

Over Earth

As Leutwein and Zhou were dueling, the Black Ice Battlefleet was dealing with another danger.

Che Guevara Station had detected a group of vessels that refused to hail, and refused to stop. Indeed, considering they were Colonial Raptors and Vipers, it wasn't hard to put two and two together.

Now, Marinesko and Komsomol aircraft from Black Ice Battlefleet, the Vipers of the Picon Detachment and any and all ground and high-altitude installations were rushing out to intercept the massed wave of enemy aircraft. Locked in duels, along with the assistance of ship flak and orbital sattelite fire, the Tauronese were soon harried by the resistance.

One man, known only as Hipoint, flew past a Tauronese Viper, muttering, "I'm gonna send you back to your gods, teabag!" as he launched a spray of Gauss fire at a Tauronese Raptor. It hurt the Raptor, but not before the man himself was hit by gunfire from a Viper, causing him to veer slightly, until he adjusted his course.

A voice replied in a cheery Australian accent, "Hipoint, this is Fireman. Intercepting bandit. Keep those asses off ya--Garuda Team doesn't need new people that badly."

"Will do," Hipoint muttered with a laugh.

Of course, the defense, though spirited, hadn't slowed or distracted all the Tauronese. There were a lot that got through.

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

Los Angeles

On the ground meanwhile, a State of Emergency had been declared, and civilians could see theater SAMs, energy AAA and other items going up to defend them, along with teams of Marineskos flying over the city at regular intervals. And, panic was in the air. Although a few kids went out to watch.

One of those teams of Marineskos, led by "Hitman" Nomura, son of the famously irascible Admiral, flew past the Capitol Records Building. LA didn't look so bad from the cockpit of his fighter, and were it not for the fact LA was under a State of Emergency, with rockets in the streets, People's Militia and LAPD out in force, and even what looked like crazy civilians with old pre-Apocalypse Soviet and American Heavy Machineguns on rooftops, it would be nice.

Then, a call.

"Okay, Hollywood Knights. This is Command. Incoming unit of Bandits, due southwest. Strength is six Vipers and three Raptors. Shoot them down before they do anything stupid."

"Roger," Nomura replied, as his team raced to meet the threat.

Meanwhile, his opposite number in the Tauronese force, "Ironman" Patroklos, wasn't as admiring of Los Angeles. To him, it was Earth at its worst. Grimy, looked as bad as it probably smelled, and full of bluen*gger-loving freaks that deserved the ordinance that the Raptors he was escorting had in back. EMP Shells. Yum. Let's see them speak of making Tauronese commit coprophagous behavior after that!

Patroklos saw several fighters incoming. He didn't need to recognize those were the Viper Ripoffs (that's what some newbies dubbed them) known as the Marinesko series. He had faced some in orbit not but ten minutes ago.

His team was one of several that had broken past the rumble in orbit to begin the op in earnest--by the looks of things, some others were on their way as well. He was given LA....others got New York, Sydney, Tokyo--ugh, Coredian names gave him the creeps--, Hong Kong--also Coredian, they all looked alike as far as Patroklos was concerned--Berlin, Moscow and Rome. More than likely, there were air defenses up there. No matter.

His missile alert blared. Enemy ordinance eh? He'd have a trick for them. He executed a high-g turn, and then flew upwards to gain altitude before diving, and opening up with guns on the Marinesko that had shot at him.

Of course, said Marinesko was Nomura's. His Marinesko was rather speedy, and even then the shields saved him. He then muttered, "It's on, bitch!" before executing an Immelmann Turn, diving at Patroklos's Viper and opening with a spray of slugs. Meanwhile, ground ordinance began flying high into the sky....one SAM hit a Raptor, and it began wobbling from the impact as it attempted evasive manuevers. Another spray of Gauss fire from a fellow Hollywood Knight ensured it didn't recover.

Indeed, another team of Marineskos was rushing in, and it looked to be a long fight--the Dornalians gunning for the Raptors, and the Tauronese attempting to guard them--a scene that would play out at the targeted cities.

This time was very different from the first, this time the Dornies were ready. Civies, and military alike, from the cities across earth seemed to gather under one banner, as the cities struck out against their foe, their sister.

Flak shells shot up, as Dornies on the roof top, held their guns high, pretending to be in some old sci fi movie, shooting at the vipers that descended from the heavens. Streaks of tracer rounds, along with missile batteries filled the sky, telling their PMS’ing sister one clear and unified message. We won’t be kicked in the balls again…

Over LA:

The small viper contingent, hit the deck, as the bogeys engaged them. Ironman, just tried to hold his own, tried against the onslaught of Dornie defenses. “Alright ladies.” he ordered out of his coms, as he veered to the left barely missing a barrage of gause cannon fire. “Target the President’s office, and Engage at will.” he ordered.

The Vipers hit the after burners, as two of the viper rip offs began to take position on Ironman’s six. Every instinct told him to flip the viper, and engage, but in Atmo, such a move was nearly suicide. Instead, he did the one move a viper could do in atmo. Pressing down on his break, He spun the viper hard to port. As the viper began to spin, he then clicked on his afterburners to spin in the reverse direction.

The Viper began to shoot it’s three rail cannons in a wide spread towards the two incoming bandits on his six. Tracer fire filled the air, as he pressed his viper as hard as it could go. In the atmo, his plane shook with a fury, as he released everything he had at the two incoming planes.

Beep Beep,

He looked down at his panel, as the draidus screen began to scream, “Incoming missile”. Frak, He yelled, as he tried to pull up, and began to launch his chaff.

However the chaff didn’t work as well as he liked, as the missile lock still was screaming in his ear. Pressing the throttle down, he knew he only had a few more seconds before they hit, and with the two bandits in front of him, he didn’t have much room for any mistakes.

He pushed his throttle forward, as hard as it would go in atmo, and pulled the horizontal plane into the vertical. His plane now sideways, he flew in-between the two bandits that was previously on his ass. Reaching down, to the yellow handle, he yanked it.

The air began to push his head back, as the cockpit flew off his viper. Then his seat shook, as the ejection rockets burned out. Soon, all he could see was LA below him, and the sound of his viper exploding in the air.

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

Over Mars.

The Dornies were putting up one hell of a fight, much more so than was expected due to the previous engagement. Where before Earth was a damn cake walk, it seemed now they were pissed off beyond all belief.

Commander Leutwein, was not very happy at this moment, as the reports that the vipers and raptors on Earth were meeting fierce resistance. Already reports were coming in of missile batteries from the raptors were beign shot down, and several squadrons of vipers were being taken apart. The damage to the Dornies didn’t concern him as much, cause they had the factories to build more, where his force was limited in numbers, and resources, at least til Tauron could drop that damn FTLi.
The missiles and devestators continued to hound the wayward battlestar fleet, as the ship shook under the fire. Leutwein, looked at the draidus, heavily outnumbered, heavily outgunned, there wasn’t much the force cold do to destroy the enemy here, and the feint was not working as well as he had hoped.

He looked towards the planet next. He had to get the Dornie ships off his ass, to maneuver around him. “Main batteries.” he ordered, “Set new targeting solution. Target the main settlement on Mars, and Missile battery contol. Set target package, Bravo three, and load tactical missile tubes 1-12, with Tacyhon and Ion missiles.

“Missiles loaded Commander.”

He nodded, as the upper portion of the battlestar pulled back, and twelve missiles, as large as ICBM’s began to set their positions.

“We have firing solution commander.”

Leutwein nodded. “Fire on my mark. Three, two one fire.” Just then, the twelve ICBM’s loaded with electronic killing warheads, along with the godulan shield destroying warheads, launched from his and multiple other battlestars towards the cities below, as his port main batteries began to launch a hail of ordinance towards the planet below.

He looked to his weapons control officer and smiled. “When they turn to intercept the missiles, finish the flank, and launch ship to ship missiles of Ion warheads at the pocket maos. Starboard rails and Flak, switch to full salvo, to shoot down those expendable little shits, and spool the FTL into DITA directly.

“Sir.”

“We are in it for the long haul on this one.”

Spoor's blue cape tossed in the wind gently as she walked out into LA's atmosphere for the first time. The warmth from the sun greeted her pale skin as her red eyes squinted in the light. Once in the car, Admiral Spoor got her first initiation into the traffic lanes that plagued southern California. It was nothing a few pounds of anti-matter couldn't cure but the activity in the car kept her mind occupied.

So the annoying gnats that honked their cars, shouted curses, and took up two lanes as they tried to merge would get to live one more day since Spoor was not terribly bored.

Spoor took the script and quickly glanced over it. It wasn't bad, wasn't great to the cultured eyes of the head of the Spoor house, but it wasn't bad. "I believe we can take care of a few of your scene problems and also help with your budget. The flagship that took part in that battle is floating over your world. It might be possible that we could use the Latchkau's bridge and exterior in your shots if that would help."

Cufadiss looked over at his commanding officer with shock on his face. "Admiral, that vessel belongs to Star Forces. It shouldn't be used in some film making production where the entire universe will see it."

Spoor waved off her counterpart. "Relax. These Kau-class ships are massed produced and nothing special. You've seen inside one of them, you've seen them all."

Cufadiss slouched back into his seat while the big wigs talked it all out. As this occurred, Aminta looked at Cufadiss, and noted his generally sullen demeanor. She then smiled at him and asked, "So, what's your job, Mr.--Cufadiss, was it?" eager to make small talk while her cousin did the dirty work.

The Chief looked over at his Admiral for a moment, who was going into detail about her side of the first few minutes of the Isis incident, before he answered her question.

"I am the Chief of Staff of the ship. I relay the Admiral's orders to the rest of the fleet and monitor the tactical situation of the battle and the status of all our ships. In some cases that the Admiral is not aboard the ship, I assume command."

Gary Johnston: OK, a limosine that can fly. Now I have seen everything.
Spottswoode: Really? Have you seen a man eat his own head?
Gary Johnston: No.
Spottswoode: So then, you haven't seen everything.

--Team America: World Police


Over LA:

The small viper contingent, hit the deck, as the bogeys engaged them. Ironman, just tried to hold his own, tried against the onslaught of Dornie defenses. “Alright ladies.” he ordered out of his coms, as he veered to the left barely missing a barrage of gause cannon fire. “Target the President’s office, and Engage at will.” he ordered....

...The air began to push his head back, as the cockpit flew off his viper. Then his seat shook, as the ejection rockets burned out. Soon, all he could see was LA below him, and the sound of his viper exploding in the air.

Monterey Park, a suburb of Los Angeles, was directly in the path of the ramapaging Vipers and Raptors. However, Hitman had recovered from his assault, and the attempted gun assault--he merely thanked his wingman and said, "Thanks, Firedog."

"Roger, Hitman. Now, let's get some more of these fucks!"

Hitman then increased afterburners, and with his wingman closed onto the Vipers gunning for the President's House. They immediately proceeded to spray fire, not before the Vipers began to break off, and begin executing somersaults and other such games.

"Any nearby units, this is Hitman--requesting assistance, I have bogeys at the President's House, over!" Hitman barked this as he flew past one of the Vipers, then executed a high-g turn back and fired a long burst of gauss and a missile, resulting in a damaged Viper that quickly moved to the side. As he went to pursue, his wingman, meanwhile, was busy chasing a Raptor, opening up on it with Gauss and rockets--until he came under attack from another Viper.

"Shit! I'm coming!"

Hitman broke off his attack, leaving another Marinesko to hit the Quarry he was chasing. Hitman executed another Immelmann, and rushed forward missiles blazing at the Viper, getting his attention and allowing Firedog to rip up the Raptor with a Gauss blast to the wing.

In time, the melee over Monterey Park became strong....

...and as this occurred, Ironman found himself face to face with a group of LAPD.

"LAPD FREEZE!"

Leveling pistols at him and shotguns, the lead man screamed, "Hands in the air!"

Ironman whipped out his survival pistol, and said, "Frak you, bluen*ggerlovers!" Ducking behind his cockpit, he opened up.

A finger then tapped his shoulder, and then, he immediately began wishing he surrendered to the LAPD. A group of People's Militia and civilians, mostly black, looked at him with decidedly displeased looks. The man who got his attention, said simply, "DId you just say what I thought you did?"

"What's it to you?"

Ironman was then grabbed by his collar, and thrust against the cockpit, as he was frisked by the LAPD officers. The man then said, "We don't use that language here in Compton. You're lucky we're here--you may have been shot otherwise."

Ironman then gulped, and said, "Oh."

Over Mars....

Leutwein nodded. “Fire on my mark. Three, two one fire.” Just then, the twelve ICBM’s loaded with electronic killing warheads, along with the godulan shield destroying warheads, launched from his and multiple other battlestars towards the cities below, as his port main batteries began to launch a hail of ordinance towards the planet below.

He looked to his weapons control officer and smiled. “When they turn to intercept the missiles, finish the flank, and launch ship to ship missiles of Ion warheads at the pocket maos. Starboard rails and Flak, switch to full salvo, to shoot down those expendable little shits, and spool the FTL into DITA directly.

“Sir.”

“We are in it for the long haul on this one.”

"Sir! Missiles detected--they're headed for Mars! Scans indicate atomic munitions."

Zhou frowned.

"The enemy wants to bombard our cities, eh? We'll stop them. Send two of the Mao IIIas to intercept, shortjump--and inform the orbital defenses of the situation."

"Aye."

With that, the ships were teleported, putting themselves in between the planet and the ordinance, whereupon the ordinance was subjected to a mass of canister shot--the Earth Dragon torpedoes--and all the fire they had on those two. Meanwhile, Martian orbital defenses came to life, and began opening on the enemy ordinance as well....

As that occurred, Gracie squawked, "Incoming fire from the enemy ships. Directed at the Mao IIIas--sir, Mao IIIas are reporting power issues--they're using Ion Shot!"

Zhao replied, "That so? Let's see how they do against--"

"Not done. THey're also going off against the Drones--Drone COntrollers reporting losses. Also, detecting unusual energy signatures--their shields are strengthening!"

Zhao sighed and said, "Thanks for interrupting. Everybody, shortjump in close, and suffocate them with all the fire you have. Make it excessive."

With that, Leutwein would witness a sudden loss in distance between his foes and his Battlestar Force, as they were surrounded on multiple axes by the Dornalians. They would be subjected to all the Demolisher Guns, Ion Torpedoes, and regular torpedoes they had. A few People's Hammer rounds were also prepped, in case.

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

Spoor's blue cape tossed in the wind gently as she walked out into LA's atmosphere for the first time. The warmth from the sun greeted her pale skin as her red eyes squinted in the light. Once in the car, Admiral Spoor got her first initiation into the traffic lanes that plagued southern California. It was nothing a few pounds of anti-matter couldn't cure but the activity in the car kept her mind occupied.

So the annoying gnats that honked their cars, shouted curses, and took up two lanes as they tried to merge would get to live one more day since Spoor was not terribly bored.

Spoor took the script and quickly glanced over it. It wasn't bad, wasn't great to the cultured eyes of the head of the Spoor house, but it wasn't bad. "I believe we can take care of a few of your scene problems and also help with your budget. The flagship that took part in that battle is floating over your world. It might be possible that we could use the Latchkau's bridge and exterior in your shots if that would help."

Alejandra smiled, "Looking for producer's credits, eh? We can take the money, and add you as a Producer for your services, since you are rather generous with the money and the help. As it is, the budget looks fairly standard, but this seems like a rather unorthodox picture--the ship helps though, and I thank you."

Cufadiss slouched back into his seat while the big wigs talked it all out. As this occurred, Aminta looked at Cufadiss, and noted his generally sullen demeanor. She then smiled at him and asked, "So, what's your job, Mr.--Cufadiss, was it?" eager to make small talk while her cousin did the dirty work.

The Chief looked over at his Admiral for a moment, who was going into detail about her side of the first few minutes of the Isis incident, before he answered her question.

"I am the Chief of Staff of the ship. I relay the Admiral's orders to the rest of the fleet and monitor the tactical situation of the battle and the status of all our ships. In some cases that the Admiral is not aboard the ship, I assume command."

Alejandra wrote notes down, and as Aminta replied simply, "Must be a bear..." in a somewhat fascinated tone, Alejandra poked her, saying, "Hey neechan. Focus, eh? This is your script. Flirt later."

"Damn..." Aminta mumbled as she began listening to Spoor's story, taking notes along with Alejandra. She then looked at Cufadiss, and smiled, slipping him a note saying, "My apologies. COusin Alejandra is all business, no fun."

A bear hardly described the pain that Admiral Spoor often put Cufadiss through. It was more like abject torture with her psychopathic games that she fancied to play. Not to mention the countless times her unorthodox strategies put her Chief on edge as their ship charged to the head of the lines. Years had been shaved off his normally long life because of the all stress that came with working under such conditions.

Still, it was good to talk with another individual without some alterior motive at stake. No psycho-analyzing or anything of that nature. Cufadiss smiled and merely mouthed to Amnita maybe later so that her cousin would not get upset.

Spoor in the mean time was in fine spirits as she was given the chance to elaborate on her greatness. The Abh talked of how the Isis first entered D'Haran space and was asked to stand down but refused to. She described in detail how the entire system went on alert and every Star Forces ship scrambled to meet the invader. With only a few ships at her command while the rest were filling their crews, Spoor flew out with only a handful of ships to meet the Colonial vessel. The exchange of words was somewhat exaggerated with Spoor's becoming more eloquent with every telling and Cain's were less than rememerable. But eventually Spoor managed to bring her ramblings to where the ship opened fire on the Abh forces and the fight ensued from there.

Spoor in the mean time was in fine spirits as she was given the chance to elaborate on her greatness. The Abh talked of how the Isis first entered D'Haran space and was asked to stand down but refused to. She described in detail how the entire system went on alert and every Star Forces ship scrambled to meet the invader. With only a few ships at her command while the rest were filling their crews, Spoor flew out with only a handful of ships to meet the Colonial vessel. The exchange of words was somewhat exaggerated with Spoor's becoming more eloquent with every telling and Cain's were less than rememerable. But eventually Spoor managed to bring her ramblings to where the ship opened fire on the Abh forces and the fight ensued from there.

The fingers flew as Alejandra and Aminta wrote down notes, based on Spoor's testimony. Neither was an experienced oral historian, but they had enough to go on, so they could add in Spoor's experiences to the script. Albeit in a decidedly less biased manner.

Aminta then asked, "What about that other guy....Gaffer, Gaf'ton! Yes, Gaf'ton. What was his deal?"

As Spoor would finish her piece, the limo came close to the Grand Palacio, which was within eyeshot. A fine place, tastefully decorated with what looked like New Dornalia's movers and shakers moving in and out, it certainly would meet Spoor's expectations. Alejandra then folded up her pen and said, "Let's talk in the bar when we finish checking you in. Trust me, they have an excellent menu here. Though admittedly, the prices...."

(OOC: Sorry for the low quality post, but the show must go on)

The engines spun and roared, as every ounce of power from the FTL went directly into the Balroggan/Telrosian ascended designed DITA system, while the guns pounded their targets from space above. Yellow and blue tracer fire streamed out of the ten battlestars, nearly out of every inch of it, and unlike before none stopped half way in a display of fire and explosions. This time, each shell, even the flaks went out to pound the dornie defenses.

The ship slowly stopped shaking, as the fire from the Dornies pounded the battlestars in orbit of Mars. Demolisher cannons and Ion smashed into their targets with quick precision, but with the strength of the six jump drives on each Pegasus class ship pouring their mechanical might into the DITA, this time it was not making much of a difference.

Commander Leutwein was one of the few commanders in Tauron fleet who served with the Dornies, in the campaign of Melinda/Daan. Recently appointed, his prior service was under one of the various Dornie ships under the joint command of the Hyperbolian campaign.

He nodded, as the ship grew a bluish, indigo hue to it, while the Dornie fleet above the planet began to move to surround them.

“Sir.” one of the enlisted men said, as he began to relax a bit, ‘Dornies are tossing everything they got at us.”

“I know.” the Commander said, as he rubbed his hands together. “We need to send a thank you to the Ta’Nar for this armor. What is the status of the battle?”

“Earth is reporting heavy losses. Moscow has taken light damage, same with Tokyo. Nothing the Dornies won’t be able to rebuild. New York is totally lost, and fierce fighting over LA. So far, they have shot down a majority of our missile ordinance.

Leutwein shook his head. This mission had turned into the biggest blunder of his military career, and with the recent Dornie advances and moves, it was getting much harder to flak. “Status of DITA?” he asked.

“Holding at optimal levels, but jump drive one is nearly depleted. Two through six are still at full power, but....”

Leutwein nodded, “Yes I know... How long til the jumps are completely drained.”

“If they keep this up sir, we will be drained in three days. Fuel reserves however will not last more than two. We are churning like we are in a permanent jump.”

“Two days then.” he said as he looked at his crew. “And damage to the Dornies?”

“With our current rate of fire being spread out, and with current salvo fire against the temporal shielding, it appears that they are taking minimum damage. There are just too many of them, to consolidate all our fire on one target.

Leutwein nodded. “Alright then.” he said. He was trapped, and he knew it. With all his jump power flying into the armor, he could not disengage. It was time to think outside the box.

He turned to his XO, ‘Prep the PJ’s, and send the signal to the Siren, and Ithaca. Have them prepare boarding parties, against these three targets.” he said, pointing on the draidus to three different Pocket Maos. “Jump at the engine room, CIC, Damage control, and main CPU.

Twenty minutes later, A bright flash of light, followed by a deafening noise erupted in those compartments of the Maos. The effect was like a flashbang, as a squad of Taruonese marines, popped into position in the ships. Those who were not properly protected, would be blinded, and deaf, and most likely lay unconscious in the room.

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

Sickbay:

The young woman looked up to the doctor, this strange bastard, who wanted her name and rank. She glared at him, as she struggled against the restraints. “Captain Kara Thrace. Serial is 342-76-9764" she said, then glaring up at him, “And that is all you get you Imperial bastard.”

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

The Red Line:

Forty seven points of light soon popped over the red line, as the Colonial Reminant returned home. Adama looked up at the draidus, and it was obvious De Buryn had not over stated the conidition of the Colonies.

Scorpia was under lock down, while the fleet movements across the colonies were in a hostile pattern. Tauron was lining up fora show down over Picon, while At Caprica, Dornie and Caprican shuttles were boarding and leaving the Tauronese battlestars in orbit.

Suddenly draidus light up, as the Abh fleet emerged next to the remnant.

Adama turned to Lt. Dualla. “Inform the Abriel, we are going in. Will signal if this is a trap.”

“Yes sir.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(OOC: This part done with the permission of Unified Sith, by his request)


Warstar Ares:

Metaxas’s ships slowly began to hold back, about a distance over a million miles from the line. The Big gun, was gathering enough support to level a nation. Picon, Viron, Caprican, Canceron, and Libran battlestar groups were moving to her flank. It was a desperate hour, as he watched the ships lining up with the Dornie invasion fleet.

“How many is that now?” he asked the draidus officer.

“One Hundred and forty seven battlestars sir.” the draiud officer said, to Metaxas.

The man shook his head. One hundred forty seven, vs his seventeeen. According to every tactical situation, there was no way in hell he was even going to begin to scratch picon now. He needed a miracle, and one fast.

“Sir.”, “We are recieving an open communication.... from Tenetia...

Metaxas was surprised, as he turned to the communications officer. “Tenetia, what in the hell do the Coredians want.”

“It isn’t the Coredians on the horn, it is the Empire.”

“Well then, put it on speakers.”

This is Commander Thrashian, commander of the Tenetian Imperial defense forces of the Imperial planet of Tenetia. We have news of dire consquences about your new Admiral of the Fleet. People of the United Colonies, You have been tricked. While the Dornies, your brothers have been waging an illegal war on the Colony of Tauron, De Bruyn and MacIntryre has grown much more brazen in their lust for power.

The leadership of Earth has sent an invasion force into Imperial space. Under orders of your Admiral of the Fleet, De Bruyn, during a time of crisis, the Admiral has placed the fate of your people in the hands of Calamity. As of 08:35, A dornie fleet has engaged the Empire in an unprovoked and unsolicited war, shattering the alliance and peace that we once held.

Due to this fact, the Empire will not hold any dellusions of friendship with the government of earth. De Bruyn and MacIntyre has betrayed you all, and through their direct actions, have placed the good and wise people of the United Colonies at risk. I call on all Colonials and Dornies to stand up for their freedom, to tell MacIntrye and De Bruyn that you are not Masakis, that you are not Coredians, that you do not betray your alliances and friendships, as they and their Coredian allies have done.

As a gesture of friendship, especially to the people of Tauron, who alone have seen the lies and deciet of the current Admiralty, an Imperial Armada is waiting three light years outside of Colonial space. We will vacate these ships, and allow Tauronese crews to have access to our equiptment. Let it be known that we know the people of the Twelve Colonies are innocent, but we will not allow anyone to attack us without repercussions. Admiral Cain did not when the Coredian destroyed Caprica City, under the guise of friendship and alliance. I call on all Colonials, Dornies included to side with Tauron, and to show the current leadership, who has long been corrupted by the influence of Daniel Masaki to rise up, and dispatch the man who falsely claim's Admiral Cain's mantle, and disgraces your nation by stabbing allies in the back.

To any government that foolishly follows De Bruyn, after this treachery against a stauch friend and ally of Admiral Helena Cain and the United Colonies of Kobol, under her leadership, let it be known. The Empire will not show you any quarter, or mercy. You will be following in the footsteps of those who betrayed you, and as you have done with Coredia and all who have betrayed you, we will do no less.

As the message came out, and broadcast over all thirteen colonies, De Bruyn's office was flooded with calls from the Quorum, asking if the alligations were true, and if he authorized an attack on an ally without consulting them.

Maybe you're afraid of sinking. Don't think about it. If you don't think about it, you won't sink. If you do, you will.

--Mao Zedong



He turned to his XO, ‘Prep the PJ’s, and send the signal to the Siren, and Ithaca. Have them prepare boarding parties, against these three targets.” he said, pointing on the draidus to three different Pocket Maos. “Jump at the engine room, CIC, Damage control, and main CPU.

Twenty minutes later, A bright flash of light, followed by a deafening noise erupted in those compartments of the Maos. The effect was like a flashbang, as a squad of Taruonese marines, popped into position in the ships. Those who were not properly protected, would be blinded, and deaf, and most likely lay unconscious in the room.

The crews of the affected Mao IIIa's, the Nehru, the Roy and the Zhu De, in the engine rooms, CIC/Bridge, and Computer Core were hit by the sudden assault. Sailors fell as they were stunned by the flashbangs, and the Tauronese marines began their work.

However, the noise and the reports of violence were not unnoticed by Gracie, and her cries of "OHMIGOD! INTRUDERS!" set off the Naval Armsmen onboard, and before long, anti-boarding procedures were activated, with the simple order, "All units, this is the Political Officer, taking over in the absence of the commander and XO. Prepare to repel boarders."

As such, angry sailors and Marines with rifles and shotguns, plus the sudden closing of blast doors and the sudden revelation that automated gauss miniguns existed in the ceilings, came to meet the challenge of the Tauronese boarders, who were immediately fired upon by drone guns and squads of Armsmen and Marines, who had more than enough protection for their eyes.

As this occurred, Zhao was warned.....and prepped several boarding teams for a counterattack.

Sickbay:

The young woman looked up to the doctor, this strange bastard, who wanted her name and rank. She glared at him, as she struggled against the restraints. “Captain Kara Thrace. Serial is 342-76-9764" she said, then glaring up at him, “And that is all you get you Imperial bastard.”

The Doctor then said, "Nurse, run that through the registry."

Before long, a result came back, and the DOctor read it. His eyes then widened as he did the scans, and read the paper, and then he proceeded to say with some skepticism, "Kara Thrace? Huh. I must be nuts, or you must be. Says here Kara Thrace died a while ago. And for the record little lady, this ain't an Impie vessel--this here's Earth. You're on a People's Navy vessel."

He then added, "Simply put, if this was an Impie vessel, you wouldn't get medical care anywhere this thorough or good. I pride myself on a good job, I tell you what. All those motherfuckers do is use Bacta and a patch, probably--send you to the front. Me, I actually like the old fashioned touch."

As the message came out, and broadcast over all thirteen colonies, De Bruyn's office was flooded with calls from the Quorum, asking if the alligations were true, and if he authorized an attack on an ally without consulting them.

De Bruyn's rather prompt reply, issued on public channels and to the Quorum, was simple, and owing to how he saw the situation, coincidentally true.

Rogue elements of the Fleet, underneath Admiral Yushiro Howard Nomura of Earth, had taken advantage of De Bruyn's focus on ending the crisis within the United Colonies to exploit a previous order De Bruyn had issued. This order focused on ordering the Colonials, who were on a relief mission in country, either to get out or get behind Nomura's lines in order to prevent undue harm to civilians or the Colonial Mission in country due to the actions of the Allied Forces and the Imperial Forces.

However, Nomura took this opportunity to deputize a good number of them under his command. Being that Nomura had an unfortunate bias to the Allied Forces at Tenetia, especially Daniel Masaki's Coredian Republicans, a second order by De Bruyn issued reluctantly to authorize the deputation to ensure the safety of the Mission was then further exploited to prosecute war on behalf of the Allies--owing to the Admiral of the Fleet's struggles at home, and the overly aggressive nature of Nomura's character (which saw the Mission not as a mission of mercy to be treated as neutral noncombatants, but instead as extra reinforcements).

De Bruyn also pointed out that being that Nomura's orders and acts were in fact rogue and done without his knowledge, permission, and in a manner exploitative of the current situation, he had no choice but to issue charges of insubordination against Nomura for causing an untenable situation harmful to the United Colonies. He also apologized for the undue aggression to all parties concerned, and immediately declared that "if Nomura wishes to prosecute his crusade, he may do so without People's Navy support, or Colonial Fleet support, and explicitly without the blessing of my administration. We have enough on our plates as it is."

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

Naturally, MacIntyre went berserk, muttering, "I'm gonna have that fucking Dutchman's head on a plate if its the last thing I fucking ever do!" Deep down though, he had to admit De Bruyn was right--Mac had kept De Bruyn mostly out of the loop, and had sent Nomura in himself.

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

OOC: Nagata gets some small liberties, based on above part.

IC:

De Bruyn then sighed, and said to the men still on his comms, "Right. Gentlemen, it seems our plan is to be moved up ahead of schedule. If Metaxas is to be defeated, then we move now."

Venizelos nodded and said, "Agreed. Just in time too, I've got people in Raptors ready for the trick part of our plan." The others could be heard going, "Aye."

Nagata then added, sternly, "I hope you know what you're doing. You've given me a good scare with that trouble with the Coredians...don't do that again."

De Bruyn simply replied, "We have created a sound strategy, and possess a sound force. Now, get to positions, we move out!"

As he ended the transmission, De Bruyn heard Lyndie begin muttering a prayer in Afrikaans. Head bowed, hands clasped in pious prayer, she delivered it with a stern desire for victory.

"Oh Lord. Please forgive these Uitlanders, whom neither deserve Thy grace or Thy generosity, and assist my colleague Christiaan, that he, the most sensible of a brutish, barbaric lot, may yet be an instrument of Your will and do what pleases You, though he be unworthy in Your sight. Amen."

De Bruyn merely replied, with a simple "Amen. Now, marshal the fleet, initiate the offensive."

----------

OOC: This next part, I need to ask OG about before anybody does anything further.

IC:

Metaxas would find, opposing his rush to secure Imperial Aid, a paltry force of De Bruyn's own vessels, and a couple of groups of Battlestars--about thrity-five ships in all. Indeed, DRADIS would likely pick up that the Admiral, foolish and doddering as ever, had left most of his units at Picon, or had sent them to other arenas. Not a sensible strategy in the least.

Indeed, what would seem most incredulous to him was the sudden arrangement of said ships in what was a 3d curved firing line, and a proclamation from the Admiral himself.

"Surrender now, Admiral Metaxas. This is your last warning. Your offensive at Earth has faltered; your offensive at Caprica has faltered; and your attempt to involve foreign interference on our sacred homelands will falter as well."

Indeed, the only thing going for the Admiral was the FTLi surrounding Picon, keeping Metaxas from warping out instantly.

The lines were drawn, as De Bruyn preformed a blunder, at least to the eyes of most Admirals, as he took less that 25% of his reserves to the front line of the battle that was about to begin.

Metaxas watched the draidus screen, and how many of the over one hundred and fifty two battlestars in the zone, were suddenly placed on defensive duties. Not a bad strategy, except for the fact that FTLi surrounded the area.

Metaxas placed his hand up to his chin, as he saw the situation unfold. “Thirty five battlestars, and one Dornie attack group?” he asked himself, as he thought about the situation. It was a tempting target, too tempting as he watched the Big Gun leading the charge. Temporal shielding, and armor made of pure awesome aside, Metaxas knew a few Godulan missiles, and a volley of Ta’Nar warheads would easily dispatch the foolish admiral.

“Sir, we are awaiting your orders.” the XO said, as he watched the small line approaching.

“This is too tempting.” Metaxas mused to himself. “Too tempting indeed. I think however we shall decline his offer. You know that is the problem with the Dornie mind set. It is all instant gratification. They never want to take pride in their work, watch it take form. They want it now, and they believe I am of the same mind set.”

“Sir?” the XO asked slightly confused as to the situation.

“The Empire is willing to aid us. De Bruyn knows that cause of his, and because of Earth’s blunder that if we receive Courescant’s favor, that Earth, and the Blue haired Devils will fall quicker than Athena did from grace when she leapt from the peaks of Hera.”

Metaxas smiled as he turned to the CIC, “That is why he offers himself on a silver plate. Plot a course through the FTLi, and begin to burn at full flank. Keep the main batteries on suppression fire, as he will undoubted attempt to stop us from leaving the FTLi. And send a communication to the Empire. Thank them for their gracious offer, and as soon as we can, we will accept.”

De Bruyn smiles as the message came in from De Bruyn. Picking up the phone, he turned to his wireless operator.

“Big Gun Actual, this is Ares Actual. We are aware of the situation at Caprica, although if you are keeping score you should see who is ahead in the game. Caprica failed, but Scorpia is still contested, as well as Mars. Ragner has swung in our favor, as well as the fuel reserves in the Colonies. I do believe as you Dornies would put it, we are 2-1, with three possible more points to score. Earth, I would hardly call a falter. We did succeed there if I remember right, so to be fair, 3-2? Bases loaded De Bruyn, and it is the bottom of the ninth. I intend on hitting a home run.”

As the message was sent, the Tauronese fleet began to veer off, heading at flank speed towards the red line, through the Zeus / Ragner supply line.

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

Sickbay:

The news of her death was hard to hear, and Starbuck didn’t believe these lying Imperial bastards for a second. Earth was a myth, a prophecy in the sacred scrolls, but there was never a shred of proof that they existed.

“Word to the wise.” she told the good doctor, “If you are going to cite a myth, try making it more believable. Earth is a frakkin myth, and I am not dead.” she protested.

Her mind tried to remember, but it was hard, from that time. Last thing she remembered was flying her viper, down to the Ares docking bay. She had bingo fuel, and the Empire had set itself up along the supply line. She was looking forward to seeing...”

Starbuck jumped up, until she was caught by the restraints, “Where is my daughter?” she asked the doctor. “If you have hurt her, I swear to gods....”

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

Nehru:

The Colonial Marines jumped into an ambush as there T-51b armor began to take the beating of it’s life. Fire burned out of the ceilings, filling the air with it’s deadly shrapnel. The bullets dinged, and slammed, as the Colonials grabbed their guns. Dornie ingenuity, along with Colonial designs, seemed to make for some tough armor, as the gause cannons hit the armor, and seemingly having little effect, like a standard round against a centurion.

Sargent McCoy, picked up his rifle as he was hailed by the machine gun fire, from the ceilings and the angry soldiers. Leveling at one of the men in front of him he opened fire with his own gause cannon, while the other men, began to shoot at the ceilings defenses.

OOC: This is mostly to announce my pressence alongside OG's in the thread. ND, I'll respond to Spoor's part soon. Just wanted to ask you a quick question.

IC:

Several hundred flashes of light announced the pressence of the Abh fleet as it exited Hyperspace and formed up alongside their Colonial escorts. Dimensions stabilized and the Abh fleet commanded by Lafiel held their position at the edge of their alotted space. No further could they go unless risk breaking a promise to not interfere. Still most of the crews watched the Colonials go after to a battle that they could not take part in. For many it was a sad farewell having worked alongside them and in essence, viewed them as one of their own.

Lafiel's new Chief of Staff stood beside her as they watched the Galactica glide away. "Message coming through your Highness."

"Put it on screen."

Adama turned to Lt. Dualla. “Inform the Abriel, we are going in. Will signal if this is a trap.”

The Admiral nodded then clicked off the screen. The young Abh looked down at her awaiting orders. It didn't feel right commanding an operation without Jinto's pressence and support, but time was the bane of all sentient life. Even more so for humans that lived half the life of an Abh's.

"Hold position here but I want everyone on the alert. We are sticking out necks out in the middle of multiple fleets that are no friends to us. I want attack vessels and Whitestars circling the perimeter. Destroyers and patrol-ships need to be ready to engage from long distances. Have the missle cruisers loaded and ready to fire but do not lock on to anyone. Let's let them make the first move if they want to."

Saluting, her Chief of Staff ran off to relay her orders.

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

Gaf'ton looked at the Draidus and grinned slightly. A good fight was always on an Abriel's mind. The only problem here was that the fighting was everywhere.

He turned to see how Adama was handling the situation. Surprisingly, Gaf'ton saw a decent amount of calm in his eyes, for a human.

"It certainly looks like we have our work cut out for us. Where to begin?"

Surprise, cockfags!

--Team America: World Police



“Big Gun Actual, this is Ares Actual. We are aware of the situation at Caprica, although if you are keeping score you should see who is ahead in the game. Caprica failed, but Scorpia is still contested, as well as Mars. Ragner has swung in our favor, as well as the fuel reserves in the Colonies. I do believe as you Dornies would put it, we are 2-1, with three possible more points to score. Earth, I would hardly call a falter. We did succeed there if I remember right, so to be fair, 3-2? Bases loaded De Bruyn, and it is the bottom of the ninth. I intend on hitting a home run.”

As the message was sent, the Tauronese fleet began to veer off, heading at flank speed towards the red line, through the Zeus / Ragner supply line.

De Bruyn remained stoic on the outside as he issued the order, "Initate pursuit." On the inside, however, he smiled. Like those times on the farm in his youth, and like those times in the sky dueling with arcane pre-Apocalypse Atlas Cheetah jets over the skies of the Transvaal, he had lured his enemy into thinking they were safe. After all, it was always wise to play to one's strengths, and to a hunter, stealth and tracking were key elements to victory.

Metaxas would find himself pursued by three flying columns, attempting to hit him from multiple angles, De Bruyn's from the front, Venizelos the rear and another from the bottom. While seeming the height of foolishness, De Bruyn had other ideas.

Like this one, executed several seconds into the pursuit and any skirmishing that would occur. He then said, calmly on the Gertrude:

"Attention all other units. The hare is running, the hare is running--initiate fox hunt."

With that, Metaxas's DRADIS would suddenly become very crowded, for Colonial and Dornalian columns moved in from all angles of approach, seemingly out of nowhere. The signal mass at Picon would vanish--and seemingly magically appear around him.

And, it would be accompanied by this simple reply from De Bruyn.

"I play football, Admiral--or as my irascible ex-boss would call it, soccer. And in football, we have one rule. Use all angles."

Cutting the transmission, De Bruyn then soberly ordered his men:

"All units, begin fire on the enemy ships, prepare boarders. I want Metaxas alive."


Sickbay:

The news of her death was hard to hear, and Starbuck didn’t believe these lying Imperial bastards for a second. Earth was a myth, a prophecy in the sacred scrolls, but there was never a shred of proof that they existed.

“Word to the wise.” she told the good doctor, “If you are going to cite a myth, try making it more believable. Earth is a frakkin myth, and I am not dead.” she protested.

Her mind tried to remember, but it was hard, from that time. Last thing she remembered was flying her viper, down to the Ares docking bay. She had bingo fuel, and the Empire had set itself up along the supply line. She was looking forward to seeing...”

Starbuck jumped up, until she was caught by the restraints, “Where is my daughter?” she asked the doctor. “If you have hurt her, I swear to gods....”

The Doctor replied, "Captain, I need you to calm down." Turning to the nurse, he said, "Nurse, get me a HoloNet transciever and some anastethic."

The Nurse nodded, and then before long, a HoloNet transciever was brought in. THe Doctor replied, "I know nothing about a daughter, missy, but I do know Earth is no myth." He then turned it own, and began flipping the channels.

First was an episode of Hong Kong Supercop. Inspector Whisky was holding his dual Colts, when he said to the Triad boss on screen, "Let him go, Wang! You won't corrupt this city anymore!"

Then, another show--a game show. A gata was leaping up in the air as the announcer screamed, "And you just won a 2XXX Mitsubishi Hayabusa!" Said shuttle looked awfully like a Raptor.

Then, another show. THis one the news. Sure enough, it read, "NDBC News--New Dornalia's Finest News Service."

The Doctor then said, "See?" as the news announcer said, "Today, we bring you breaking news...continuing coverage of Tauronese attacks upon Earth cities. We bring you live from Moscow...Ted?"

"Ted" then said, "Chess, city authorities are reporting local residents in the Gorky Park district are now with power, after the EMP strike this afternoon. However, PM commander Pugachev estimated that it would be another 2 hours before services are totally restored...."

As this happened, images of the fabled world showed themselves. The Kremlin. New York City. The Hollywood sign. The Tokyo Tower. Big Ben, and so on.

Nehru:

The Colonial Marines jumped into an ambush as there T-51b armor began to take the beating of it’s life. Fire burned out of the ceilings, filling the air with it’s deadly shrapnel. The bullets dinged, and slammed, as the Colonials grabbed their guns. Dornie ingenuity, along with Colonial designs, seemed to make for some tough armor, as the gause cannons hit the armor, and seemingly having little effect, like a standard round against a centurion.

Sargent McCoy, picked up his rifle as he was hailed by the machine gun fire, from the ceilings and the angry soldiers. Leveling at one of the men in front of him he opened fire with his own gause cannon, while the other men, began to shoot at the ceilings defenses.

"SHIT! What kinda Tin Cans are those!?"

The Armsman cursed the Tauronese, as he fired another burst of gauss fire and ducked behind a systems console. That damn armor suit prevented them from being hurt too much, and the situation was degenerating into a stalemate that would tear the ship up.

"Dunno, Ramsey. We need grenades."

"Negative. You use explosives, you fuck up the ship."

"Well, we gotta kill them! FUCK!"

Then one man said, "Fuck this shit," as he pulled out a grenade, used some Duct Tape from his kit to make a crude sticky pad, and then said, "Cover me." As his comrades proceeded to cover his movements with suppressing fire, he shunted some of the unconcious men out of the way, pulled the pin on the grenade, and threw it onto one of the Tin Cans, screaming, "Fire in the hole!" as he ran.

The Tin Can then and said, "Where the fra--" as he got up and tried to fall back. One man too late noticed the grenade on the man's back, as it exploded.

As the Armsmen and Marines ducked, an explosion rocked the room, with Gracie screaming, "Watch it! Those are vital systems and men down there!" The Marines then began running to the side, attempting to open up on the Tin Cans with shotgun slugs while the Armsmen delivered suppressing fire.

Of course, that trick probably hurt a man or two on the ground....

Warlord, we have a large amount of ships appearing outside the Red Line.

Are they attempting to enter? What nationality are they?

A number of them are Colonial but they seem to have an Abh escort.

Are the Abh trying to cross over?

Not yet.

Open a channel to them.



A few moments after arriving, a message was sent to the newly arrived vessels.

Greetings, this is Nhur-Galladu of the Ta’Nar nation of Balrogga.

Due to a respect of Sovereignty, we request all foreign vessel stay out of the Colonies until they are allowed to sort out their differences by themselves. To allow them the best chance, the Fallen Empire of Balrogga has taken them under our protection until they accomplish the task of uniting themselves. Please respect their rights and do not enter or try to interfere. We will only allow Colonial vessels to enter or leave; all others will be stopped at the Colonial Red Line. Any attempts to disregard this will be taken as an attack upon Balrogga and a personal attack against myself.

You are welcome to hold your position outside the Red Line but do not try to enter or to fire across the Quarantine Zone. We do not care if you are aligned with me or our enemy, we will allow none access without going through us first.

The Colonies deserve the right to decide their own fate without outside interference. I hope you agree and will comply with our simple request.

Thank you.

The fingers flew as Alejandra and Aminta wrote down notes, based on Spoor's testimony. Neither was an experienced oral historian, but they had enough to go on, so they could add in Spoor's experiences to the script. Albeit in a decidedly less biased manner.

Aminta then asked, "What about that other guy....Gaffer, Gaf'ton! Yes, Gaf'ton. What was his deal?"

As Spoor would finish her piece, the limo came close to the Grand Palacio, which was within eyeshot. A fine place, tastefully decorated with what looked like New Dornalia's movers and shakers moving in and out, it certainly would meet Spoor's expectations. Alejandra then folded up her pen and said, "Let's talk in the bar when we finish checking you in. Trust me, they have an excellent menu here. Though admittedly, the prices...."

OOC: ND, hope you don't mind me taking a small liberty here. TG me if you need it edited.

IC:

Spoor was about to delve into the next question when they finally arrived at the hotel that she would temporarily be staying. The Admiral got out of the car and took a long look at the building. Her facial expressions did not show any wonderment or fascination with the building. Spoor merely nodded her head with its approval and began walking in.

As they entered the foyer, she had her bags taken straight for the bell man. "Baroness Latopanyu Benej Spoor checking in please."

When everything was squared away between the clerk and Alejandra about the lodging arrangements, Spoor took her key and headed for one of the elevators. At the protests that came her way, the Abh simply held up a hand. "I will change and then return to answer your questions. I will not wear my military uniform to such a social."

With that the elevator door closed and Spoor was gone leaving Cufadiss with the two women. He chuckled nervously. "Eh-heh. If you like, I can fill you in on what the Imperial Admiral was doing there."

Meeting their approval, the Chief walked off with them to the bar. The bar itself was of the higher quality and Cufadiss was not afraid of showing his approval while Spoor choose to keep it muted. Eventually they got suited at a table.

"Well the battle was already underway when Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton arrived. He was due to arrive in the D'Haran system at that time so it was not unexpected. He was supposed to be making inspections on D'Hara's defenses and the garrison ships there while traveling the Empire with the Homeguard Fleet.

When he entered the system, somehow he recognized the ship's markings and knew who commanded it. He ordered that the ship be taken at all costs as per the Imperial Order that Admiral Cain was to endure the Wrath of Emperor Dougnaa for her crimes committed against Imperial citizens. From that moment, he did little else except send parts of the Homeguard to aid in the battle while allowing Admiral Spoor to continue commanding.

That's about all I know. I wasn't aboard the Isis when his Highness boarded the ship."

Eventually Admiral Spoor made her way into the bar room. Spoor had transformed from fierce and chaotic Admiral to Baroness of the stars as she entered the area. The finest silks of the Empire covered her body as they hugged her form. The long blue braid still remained in tact though it lay flirtatiously over her chest. Crimson eyes scanned the room until she found her companions from earlier.

Spoor made her way over to the table and took a seat next to her Chief. She waved a server over, clearly used to being waited on and having her way. "The finest bottle of light wine you have chilled along with four glasses."

With the servant dismissed, Spoor turned to face Alejandra. "Where were we? Oh yes. The Abriel and their annoying tendencies to make others fight in their style no matter how barbaric it is." Spoor then launched into a speech of how she was ordered to take the ship alive regardless of the cost to ships which was completely against how she preferred to fighting.

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

Lafiel's fleet sat quietly in their little neck of space looking in at the Colonials. No word had come back from Adama or Gaf'ton on how things were faring. Still it was only a matter of time before others notice that the Abh had arrived fashionably late to the party.

"Excuse me your majesty."

Lafiel looked up from the floor to see her Chief of Staff looking at her. "What is it Cohaspia?"

"A message is coming through for you but not Colonial. It is the Balroggans."

At first anger welled up inside the Abriel. Lafiel didn't really understand why, perhaps it was simply her nerves getting the best of her. She knew what her father was doing but Lafiel would prefer to be elsewhere now instead on the edge of a battle.

"Put it through."

Greetings, this is Nhur-Galladu of the Ta’Nar nation of Balrogga.

Due to a respect of Sovereignty, we request all foreign vessel stay out of the Colonies until they are allowed to sort out their differences by themselves. To allow them the best chance, the Fallen Empire of Balrogga has taken them under our protection until they accomplish the task of uniting themselves. Please respect their rights and do not enter or try to interfere. We will only allow Colonial vessels to enter or leave; all others will be stopped at the Colonial Red Line. Any attempts to disregard this will be taken as an attack upon Balrogga and a personal attack against myself.

You are welcome to hold your position outside the Red Line but do not try to enter or to fire across the Quarantine Zone. We do not care if you are aligned with me or our enemy, we will allow none access without going through us first.

The Colonies deserve the right to decide their own fate without outside interference. I hope you agree and will comply with our simple request.

Thank you.

Lafiel read the message then merely shrugged. "Formulate this reply, and make it as polite as possible."

Greetings Nhur-Galladu. This Admiral Abriel Nei Dobrusk Paryunu Lafiel of the Abh Empire.

As you can see, my fleet has held its current position and is making no further motion towards Colonial space. We are simply here to escort friends back to where they have come from as well ensure that a bargain is upheld.

We have no intention of getting involved in this entanglement since we have complete faith in our allies. I assure you, Warlord, that we will not act unless it becomes necessary to defend ourselves.

You're welcome.

Eventually Admiral Spoor made her way into the bar room. Spoor had transformed from fierce and chaotic Admiral to Baroness of the stars as she entered the area. The finest silks of the Empire covered her body as they hugged her form. The long blue braid still remained in tact though it lay flirtatiously over her chest. Crimson eyes scanned the room until she found her companions from earlier.

Spoor made her way over to the table and took a seat next to her Chief. She waved a server over, clearly used to being waited on and having her way. "The finest bottle of light wine you have chilled along with four glasses."

With the servant dismissed, Spoor turned to face Alejandra. "Where were we? Oh yes. The Abriel and their annoying tendencies to make others fight in their style no matter how barbaric it is." Spoor then launched into a speech of how she was ordered to take the ship alive regardless of the cost to ships which was completely against how she preferred to fighting.


Alejandra and the others merely wrote their notes, as they absorbed Cufadiss's testimony. Thankfully, Cufadiss seemed more truthful around them when his boss wasn't around, and he delivered a plainer style as opposed to Spoor's evidently self-important testimony--a good thing, since Alejandra wanted some straight facts before she began twisting them into crowd-pleasers.

Aminta couldn't decide if she wanted to laugh or to frown at Spoor's chest-thumping, but Alejandra didn't think anything of it. In a business dominated by primadonnas as Hollywood was, she had seen it all. Either way, they both kept a straight face, and merely took her testimony down as they admired her impeccable fashion sense.

And indeed, so did most of the Palacio's staff. In the midst of a bar full of pretty people and well dressed individuals, Spoor's getup stood out, and immediately sparked whispers. Some types who looked like they wrote for fashion magazines began scrawling notes, and one man could be heard calling some designer, saying, "Bob--you know that new style you wanted!? I got it!"

Alejandra then noted, "Hmm...interesting, interesting....Mr. Cufadiss, Admiral, not bad, not bad....what's the Wrath of Empero--"

Aminta said, "Traditional act of Abh vengance for crimes committed versus a citizen of the Empire." She did so with a hint of pride.

Alejandra simply shot back, "Thank you. I'll note that," adding as she scribbled it onto her notepad, "Of course, I wasn't the one who took Baronh in high school, and learned about said subjects."

Aminta shrugged and said nothing. Alejandra said to Spoor, "My apologies. Anywho....I think we have the info we need in terms of what happened....now we need to discuss who gets to play you two." She then added, "Naturally, you get to have a say in the casting, Admiral, Mr. Cufadiss. It's only fair."

Aminta then passed another note, saying, "Thanks for the honesty. Is your boss always this classy?"

Sire, the Abh are replying to your message.

What is their reaction?

They are not taking any offensive actions. It appears to be favorable.

Play their message.

Greetings Nhur-Galladu. This Admiral Abriel Nei Dobrusk Paryunu Lafiel of the Abh Empire.

As you can see, my fleet has held its current position and is making no further motion towards Colonial space. We are simply here to escort friends back to where they have come from as well ensure that a bargain is upheld.

We have no intention of getting involved in this entanglement since we have complete faith in our allies. I assure you, Warlord, that we will not act unless it becomes necessary to defend ourselves.

You're welcome.

As Nhur-Galladu listened to the reply from Lafiel, he was relieved.

Open a channel to the Abh flagship.

Yes Sire

Greetings Admiral Lafiel,

I listened to your message with great relief. I am thankful you possess the Wisdom and foresight to recognize they have the right to play out their own destiny unhindered by us out here in the Galaxy. I personally extend you my thanks for taking the stance of noninvolvement.

After this is over and if you are still around, I would like to either visit you or have you as my guest. Please think on this and let me know when you are ready.

A majority of the sensors refocused back to their task of scanning for possible violations of their Quarantine Zone although a few remained tracking the ships, no more than was necessary for the task which would easily be detectable and expected by the Abh.

Battlestar Galactica

It had been a long time since the old Columbia Class battlestar had entered her own space. Exiled for freedom, demonized and adored alike, the old lady, along with her fleet came lumbered on towards their homes, to take their rightful place back within the colonial fleet.

It was an old saying in the Colonies, “All this has happened before and will happen again.” The irony was not left unknown to William Adama, a man who didn’t believe in the scriptures, but even on such an auspicious day, would find some truth to it. Four years had past, when the Colonial Remnant left in the wake of Civil war. Somehow it was fitting that they would return, to the same fires which they originally fled.

Draidus was covered in green and red blips. IFF’s were everywhere, as Adama put on his glasses and looked towards the screen. Vipers were converging on vipers, Raptors on the Dornie fighters, and battlestars were engaging over the planets they once swore to protect.

"It certainly looks like we have our work cut out for us. Where to begin?" Gaf’ton spoke to the Admiral.

“He is right Bill.” the gruff old man of an XO, Colonel Tigh followed up with. “I haven’t seen such wide spread fighting since the first cylon war.” he said calmly, with his hands behind his back.

“Indeed.” Adama spoke as he looked up to the draidus. It was hard to believe only one colony was rebelling. Scorpia was under seige, and Caprica had just been saved. Ragner was gone, Canceron’s refineries, and another offensive near Ragner. For only 1/12th of the Colonial forces in open rebellion, they had made a lot of ground, much more than anyone would have anticipated.

Adama looked down. “Ms. Dualla.” he spoke up, never taking his eye off the draidus. “Signal the Pegasus battle group. Inform them to set course for Libran. I want them to secure the Nuclear facilities on the planet. Have Pacifica and Triton, set course for Ragner.”

He then looked down at Saul, then turned his head to Gaf’ton. “What are your orders sir?” Colonel Tigh asked his long time friend and Admiral. “We are going to Canceron. XO, have the fleet go to condition one. They can’t fight if they don’t have gas.”

“Yes sir.” he said as he picked up the phone. Adama turned to Gaf’ton. “Admiral, it seems you picked one hell of a day for a visit. Let’s hope the upgrades you and the Dornies gave us will do the job.”

He then looked back to his XO. “Get Captain Agatheon up to the CIC.”

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

Warstar Ares:

Draidus began to signal the end. The end of a short lived and bloody campaign, to avenge the one who saved the Colonies. Their murderers now sat on the edge of the Colonial border waving, and cheering like fans at a gladiator match, while thier puppet, their slave De Bruyn all but delivered the Colonies into the hands of the enemy.

There was only one hope for Tauron, one chance to turn this around. As Scorpia ship yards burned under the fighting, while his fleet was pounded from multiple angles, with an Abh fleet in the way, he had to make it to the Empire. It was his only chance, to make it to that fleet.

The multiple angles didn’t bother Metaxas as much as De Bruyn would have hoped. Colonial ships were covered in guns, and could fire in a spherical pattern if need be. What did bother him though was suddenly being out flanked, as De Bruyn seemed to be getting more and more reinforcements.

It was a tough day for the Admiral, as his cannons shot out, it’s munitions against the Dornie and Colonial fleets. It was a race to him, as the main bow batteries of the Warstar, fired their shots shredding a Mercury class battlestar with a hit. His ship rocked and rolled, as he pushed through faster.

“Sir we are detecting communications between the Ta’Nar and Abh. The Abh don’t seem to want to be involved, yet, the Ta’Nar have said that only Colonial Makes and models can cross the line.”

Metaxas shook his head. “So even if we get to the empire, we can’t use their assets. Without dragging the Ta’Nar and Godulans into the fray.”

The men were silent, as he looked around. It was his last hope, it only chance to make this trap turn into a victory. That one simple communication had sealed his coffin. He looked around at the crew of his ship. His fine ship, the ship that Helena Cain once commanded. “Forgive me, Helena.” Metaxas whispered. “Patch me through to the big gun.”

Big Gun actual, this is Ares Actual. Request a temporary cease fire, to begin face to face peace talks. Let us talk as men Admiral, and bring an end to this bloody conflict.

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

Battlestar Galactica:
Twenty minutes later.

Blood poured out of her hand, as it dripped to the floor. Her face winced in pain, as a long metal wire was shoved into her skin. “Alright almost got it.” Sharon said, as she pushed the wire deeper into her wrist. Her skin bulged up, as it finally hit the spot. “Got it, give me a second.”

As those in the CIC watched, Her eyes flickered back and forth. “Got it Admiral. I see their Point of Origin scrambler. Ok, I have compensated.” she said as her eyes remained closed. Adama looked to his XO. Prepare for combat jump, and send the jump calculations to the fleet. Set the board for green.

Jumping in 10.... 9... 8...

Suddenly over Canceron, dispite all odds, 24 remnant battlestars jumped through the FTLi, into the FTLi over Canceron. Vipers scrambled, as the battlestars began pounding one another.

We must forgive our enemies.

--Robert E. Lee



Metaxas shook his head. “So even if we get to the empire, we can’t use their assets. Without dragging the Ta’Nar and Godulans into the fray.”

The men were silent, as he looked around. It was his last hope, it only chance to make this trap turn into a victory. That one simple communication had sealed his coffin. He looked around at the crew of his ship. His fine ship, the ship that Helena Cain once commanded. “Forgive me, Helena.” Metaxas whispered. “Patch me through to the big gun.”

De Bruyn, meanwhile, was more sober in his appraisal of events. He merely greeted the Abh arrival and the Ta'Nar insistence of their staying out with a nod, and focused on the battle at hand. Not that he was ignorant of strategy and tactics, but he had other business to focus on and figured, as long as the Ta'Nar did their jobs, he was safe on that front. The arrival of the Remnant likewise went unheralded, as Adama went to what was likely Canceron.

Now, he was greeted by a surrender offer from Metaxas himself.

Big Gun actual, this is Ares Actual. Request a temporary cease fire, to begin face to face peace talks. Let us talk as men Admiral, and bring an end to this bloody conflict.

The man simply asked to meet face to face. Looking at the disposition of forces, their proximity to the border, and risks involved, he made the rational decision. Picking up the Gertrude, he spoke simply in reply, calmly:

"Admiral Metaxas--

Ceasefire authorized whilst we discuss business. Arrive here onboard the Big Gun as soon as possible. I will come unarmed. Come likewise."

He then said, "All units, maintain positions, cease fire. I'm going to have a chat." He then removed his pistol and knife and surrendered them to Lyndie, before saluting and saying, "I'm going in alone to speak with Metaxas. You have the conn."

Lyndie, shocked, merely said, "Aye, sir."

“Yes sir.” he said as he picked up the phone. Adama turned to Gaf’ton. “Admiral, it seems you picked one hell of a day for a visit. Let’s hope the upgrades you and the Dornies gave us will do the job.”

Gaf'ton merely kept up his emotionless expression at the situation that surrounded the small Colonial Remnant. Even with war raging around them, he appeared to be completely detached from it all.

"Perhaps but rarely do Abhs show up for social visits. Especially Abriels. I am here to help you with whatever you need in taking back your home. You'll find your new upgrades will be more than suitable for the task ahead of you. Though I would suggest we move quickly while everyone else is still distracted."

Twenty minutes later, a truly intriguing site was on the bridge. A woman plugged herself into what looked to be one of the ship's computers and detected interferences with the systems as well locations in space. It was not totally unlike an Abh which only made the Imperial Admiral more curious.

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

When the bottle of wine arrived, Spoor instructed the waiter on the proper order for pouring glasses with hers being first followed by their friends from LA and Cufadiss last. The Chief felt sorry for whoever had to wait on the Admiral though it was nice that someone else besides himself was stuck with that burden.

Spoor in the mean time, thought about the task of picking someone that would be worthy enough for portraying her character. She entertained the idea of doing it herself for a moment but realized that military service would call her back to duty. "Unfortunately I do not know any actors so I could not give a name on who I believe would perfectly portray me or the Chief. If you hold auditions, I believe we can be present to observe and throw in our recommendations."

Cufadiss on the other hand could care less about who played his role. All that was required was someone that was able to tolerate hours of endless torture from the Admiral's mind games that she so loved to play. In the end he merely echoed the Admiral's sentiments. It wasn't like he had a choice in the matter anyways.

The chief read the note and head to thank if there was a hidden meaning behind the word, "classy". Cufadiss just had to go on his own knowledge of Dornalian cultures and what he knew of the English language.

"She is a Baroness so she does prefer the finer things in life."

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

"Message coming back, Admiral. It's the Balroggans again."

Lafiel opened an eye ever so slightly. "Read it to me."

Her Chief of Staff cleared his voice and began reading the message back."Greetings Admiral Lafiel,

I listened to your message with great relief. I am thankful you possess the Wisdom and foresight to recognize they have the right to play out their own destiny unhindered by us out here in the Galaxy. I personally extend you my thanks for taking the stance of noninvolvement.

After this is over and if you are still around, I would like to either visit you or have you as my guest. Please think on this and let me know when you are ready. "

The Abriel closed her eyes once more. "Inform the Warlord that I will meet him on his ship if he so desires"

Cohaspia's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. He pivoted around to stand in front of his Admiral. "Ma'am I must strongly disagree with your idea. If her highness recalls correctly, you did destroy a number of their ships while defending the Coredians for the last time. Not to mention that the Empire has never been friendly with any of the Kythons."

Lafiel opened her eyes and tilted her head. "I do remember and I remember that they destroyed a number of our ships as well. There is blood between both of our nations and I am sure that the Balroggans realize it as well."

The Chief clenched his fists at his side. "This could be a trap in an attempt to kill off one of our higher ranking officers as well a member of the royal family. Killing yourself won't bring back the Count Hyde or turn back to clock. He-"

Cohaspia was abruptly cut off as the tip of a command saber appeared under his chin, tilting his head back. Lafiel had drawn the useless weapon in a fluid motion to catch the Abh off guard. Blue hair had fallen from behind her ears and coverd up a side of her face though one eye was still quite visible as it narrowed dangerously at Cohaspia. "This has nothing to do with Jinto. If this is truly a trap, it has to be the worst one ever conceived by a sentient race. I choose to believe the enemy is more intelligent than that. I give them more credit than possibly warranted just so that nothing surprises me in battle.

Now. Relay my message."

The saber left his chin leaving the Chief a little shaken. "Forgive me Majesty. I meant no offense. I was simply trying to look after her Highness."

Your invitation is accepted. I shall meet you upon your ship or at a destination of your choosing when the time is appropriate.

When the bottle of wine arrived, Spoor instructed the waiter on the proper order for pouring glasses with hers being first followed by their friends from LA and Cufadiss last. The Chief felt sorry for whoever had to wait on the Admiral though it was nice that someone else besides himself was stuck with that burden.

Spoor in the mean time, thought about the task of picking someone that would be worthy enough for portraying her character. She entertained the idea of doing it herself for a moment but realized that military service would call her back to duty. "Unfortunately I do not know any actors so I could not give a name on who I believe would perfectly portray me or the Chief. If you hold auditions, I believe we can be present to observe and throw in our recommendations."

Cufadiss on the other hand could care less about who played his role. All that was required was someone that was able to tolerate hours of endless torture from the Admiral's mind games that she so loved to play. In the end he merely echoed the Admiral's sentiments. It wasn't like he had a choice in the matter anyways.

The chief read the note and head to thank if there was a hidden meaning behind the word, "classy". Cufadiss just had to go on his own knowledge of Dornalian cultures and what he knew of the English language.

"She is a Baroness so she does prefer the finer things in life."

Alejandra nodded and then replied, "Well, no problem, Admiral. We can schedule auditions as soon as possible to pick people--besides we have to cast others as well, so it will be a busy day. I'll have you two"--she gestured to Cufadiss and Spoor--"sit on the jury for that. As it is, we have to pick the director also--we need someone who can convey the story in its entirety, with good quality. Fortunately, I have some people I had in mind. Otherwise, there's the usual logistics of funding a film--it's kinda like the logistics for military work, really. Making sure supplies are adequate, et cetera--I should know, I've done my National Service."

Aminta asked, "Supply clerk, right?"

Alejandra nodded, and said, "More precisely, Quartermaster assigned to Special Services...." She then turned to Spoor and said, "Morale boosting and such."

She then said, picking up the wine and performing the sommelier's usual rituals short of actually drinking it, replied to Spoor, "Excellent taste in wines. It's a '74 Mosconi--made in Napa Valley, actually. Good vintage, I've had it before. The last director I worked with had good taste."

She then said, flagging down a waiter, "I hate to go off the subject, but I do insist on the fillet of sole here--it goes well with the wine, as any fish dish does. In my business, you learn these things."

Aminta sighed, and then passed another note to Cufadiss.

"Is it me, or is my cousin trying to flatter your boss?"

-----------

The waiter, meanwhile, sighed, as the fussy client insisted on teaching him to do his job. He took in good humor, but when he left, he privately cursed her and muttered, "Fucking ****."

Thirty Minutes Later:

Metaxas walked alone on the deck of the Big Gun, for the first time in who knows how long. He remembered the protests, and the concerns before he left the Ares. Metaxas knew though when he left, even if the peace talks failed, that this is a one way trip. De Bruyn would never allow him to return to the Ares. He was ok with that though, as he walked with his very well armed escort to the peace table.

Soon he came to a pair of sliding glass doors, to find De Bruyn sitting at the table. Pen and paper were on the side, as Metaxas entered the room. De Bruyn stood up, as he looked at his advesary, for the first time since he took command of the Colonial Fleet.

“Admiral.” De Bruyn spoke to him showing him some respect, as Metaxas entered, although he didn’t salute.

“Admiral of the Fleet.” Metaxas replied back.

De Bruyn turned to the guards, “Leave us.” he asked the guards. Slowly they turned away, but stationed themselves outside the door.

“Would you care for something to eat or drink, Admiral Metaxas?” De Bruyn asked of Metaxas.

With a simple wave of his hand he shrugged off the invitation. “No thank you. I have come here, to try to bring this conflict to an end, Admiral De Bruyn. What are your terms, sir?”

"My terms are simple."

FOlding his hands behind his back, he began to pace about. A paitent look developed in his eyes, and he began to look at the picture of Christiaan De Wet on the wall as he walked about. He pondered what his namesake would have done--hell, what all the men in his books would have done. He knew what MacIntyre wanted to do--such a thing was unacceptable. Therefore it was best to tread carefully.

"As you may or may not have heard, my former boss, Robert MacIntyre, wants you dead or alive."

He then looked at Metaxas and replied, "I prefer to handle things less aggressively. After all, you have some grievances that are understandable, although the actions you took were overly aggressive and endangered the United Colonies--not to mentioned injured civilians on Earth, something that cannot be allowed."

He then said, "You will tell your men to stand down....all of them. The Tauronese Detachment in its entirety will cease all hostile movements immediately. No ifs ands or buts about it.

They will surrender any territories they have taken, in the due course of mutiny, to the authority of the United Colonies.

Any and all senior and junior officers who participated in this mutiny--this means you--will be detained pending courtmartial for insubordination and mutiny. Any NCOs will be tried on a case-by-case basis, and all line enlisted men will be given amnesty and sent home.

Additionally, Tauron shall once again elect or otherwise send a representative to the Quorum as soon as possible."

He then said simply, "I know these terms seem difficult, but I would rather give only that punishment which is sufficent, than the alternative."

Spoor tipped her glass to Alejandra's admission of military duty for New Dornalia. "Well then I need not delve into the minute details of military procedures since you are most likely already acquainted with their nuances. Such tasks can prove to be rather boring. Just send a message to the hotel when you would like to begin the screening process for the proper actors."

Cufadiss took the note as Spoor accepted Alejandra's recommendation for the fish. He eyes took a quick look at the note then scribbled down a reply. "Don't worry. She enjoys the attention."

The Chief passed the note back but Spoor's quick gaze had caught on to the two little gossipers' game. "Alright you two, if you're going to have a secret conversation then kindly do it elsewhere."

Cufadiss sat up razor back straight. "Apologies ma'am."

Alejandra frowned at her cousin, and said to Spoor as she refused to turn her gaze away from Aminta, "Thank you, Admiral for your intervention. My cousin always insisted on being childish."

Aminta sighed, and pocketed her notepad and pen. Satisfied nothing more was to come of this, Alejandra nodded and said, "It is settled. We'll call you when we get the auditions going. In the meantime, lunch is on me. I insist." That condition came just as the waiter returned with the rather exquisitely produced fish dishes, and Alejandra exercised all manners of class in prepping herself.

She then began cutting up her food and eating with due restraint. After her first bite, she paused and mentioned, "You know--I won't lie, but you seem like an individual of taste. Would you like to explore the city sometime? There's some tailors and clothing shops and other places I know that would really fit your sensibilities."

It was a moment like this that separated leaders from followers, the good from the bad. Metaxas knew that he had fought a hard campaign, a campaign of freedom, and of vengeance. All he wanted to do was to avenge the Colonies, to defend his borders, to show the galaxy once and for all, not to frak with the United Colonies.

He hated De Bruyn, for his cowardice, for his lies and his bribes. Had the other eleven colonies joined up, stood with one voice and shouted that they would not take such things lying down things may have been different. He swallowed his pride as he listened to the terms. He may be on the losing side, but it didn’t mean he was on the wrong side. No, he knew that what he did was right, it just wasn’t smart.

“Admiral.” Metaxas said, as he listened to the terms of the surrender. “I am aware of the standard protocols for surrender.” he said as he knew the fate of the thousands under his command now hung in the balance of his next words.

“I can not accept terms as they are stated.” he said to De Bruyn as he walked over next to him to stare at the same portait. “I have tried to fight this war with honor and integrity, and that is perhaps my down fall. I choose to spare my enemy, I didn’t see the truth before my eyes, that in such a time of war, there are no blood lines, only the enemy. I granted amnesty to all of your people, and those of the other Colonies of Kobol. I allowed them to swear loyalty to the cause, or leave uninhibited. I ask only the same thing for my junior officers.”

He then turned towards the Admiral of the Fleet. “Your plan you purpose would site every viper pilot, every raptor pilot, down to the Damage Control teams, chiefs on the deck, and engineering crews with court marshals. It will inspire fear across the fleet, that if they follow their superior’s orders they may be tried and convicted. It will set the stage for mutiny’s and refusal to follow orders in time of war.”

“Now you are new to the Colonies, but I have spent my life defending her, back when you were nothing but a bed time story. You do not want that Admiral, the Colonies are already fragile enough, second guessing is not what you want, or anyone wants. I will agree to your terms with the exception of the junior officer and NCO trials. They are to be granted Amnesty for their actions, and be offered the same choice I offered your people. Re-take the oath, or dismissal.”

True patriotism sometimes requires of men to act exactly contrary, at one period, to that which it does at another, and the motive which impels them — the desire to do right — is precisely the same.

--Robert E. Lee



“Now you are new to the Colonies, but I have spent my life defending her, back when you were nothing but a bed time story. You do not want that Admiral, the Colonies are already fragile enough, second guessing is not what you want, or anyone wants. I will agree to your terms with the exception of the junior officer and NCO trials. They are to be granted Amnesty for their actions, and be offered the same choice I offered your people. Re-take the oath, or dismissal.”

Standing next to the picture of De Wet, De Bruyn pondered the challenge the intransigent Tauronese had given him. Clearly, he had underestimated the extent of the Junior Officers' Corps, or the number of NCOs in Fleet as a whole. Metaxas may have been bluffing, but something told the old Boer he had a point. Besides, he was in this business to get people back together, not to commit himself inexorably to vernichtungskrieg--that little concept Lothar von Trotha, going on his mad crusade against the Herero so long ago, would render in English as "a War of Annihiliation." That was for MacIntyre to do, given his bluster.

De Bruyn knew that what Metaxas was offering was generous. He could easily have walked out. Offered to run the blockade and steal the ships anyway. Or he could have counter offered. But he was surprisingly calm, the old salt. Prolonging it perhaps would only hurt.

He then walked up to Metaxas, hands behind his back, and said simply, "Acceptable. I will grant amnesty to the junior officers and the NCOs, and have them either swear the Oath, or leave the service. The way things are, we both know neither of us wish to prolong this useless charade and turn it into a War of Annihilation. Such would be disaster only dreamt of in bad television's worst nightmares--or the most perverse imaginations of a murderer. I will be neither."

He then extended his hand and said, "We have a deal."

She then began cutting up her food and eating with due restraint. After her first bite, she paused and mentioned, "You know--I won't lie, but you seem like an individual of taste. Would you like to explore the city sometime? There's some tailors and clothing shops and other places I know that would really fit your sensibilities."

Spoor swirled the liquid contents of her glass around as she contemplated the possibility. She had brought a substantial account with her so it wouldn't hurt to spend a little to suit her vanity. Considering her extensive wardrobe back at her palace, a few foreign garments could potentially add to her status.

If the stores were fitting to her certain bit of taste, then she would certainly like the time to view them. "Very well. If the shops are so artistically inclined, then I would enjoy the time to window shop. It's been many years since I've been on a ground world so I would like to see what you offer."

Cufadiss took a long drink from his glass. Of course he couldn't get drunk but he could get tipsy though not off one glass. No harm in trying though. At least he wouldn't be dragged along on something seen as a female endeavor.

Spoor smiled as she took another sip. "If we need some muscle to carry our bags, then the Chief here can come along and attend to them."

Cufadiss lifted his glass and flagged down the waiter to have it refilled promptly.

Spoor swirled the liquid contents of her glass around as she contemplated the possibility. She had brought a substantial account with her so it wouldn't hurt to spend a little to suit her vanity. Considering her extensive wardrobe back at her palace, a few foreign garments could potentially add to her status.

If the stores were fitting to her certain bit of taste, then she would certainly like the time to view them. "Very well. If the shops are so artistically inclined, then I would enjoy the time to window shop. It's been many years since I've been on a ground world so I would like to see what you offer."

Cufadiss took a long drink from his glass. Of course he couldn't get drunk but he could get tipsy though not off one glass. No harm in trying though. At least he wouldn't be dragged along on something seen as a female endeavor.

Spoor smiled as she took another sip. "If we need some muscle to carry our bags, then the Chief here can come along and attend to them."

Cufadiss lifted his glass and flagged down the waiter to have it refilled promptly.

The Waiter obliged the poor aide-de-camp, as Alejandra laughed and waved it off. "No need, Admiral. As much as I'd like to indulge in such things, I have easier, more reliable methods of hiring porters." With a sidelong glance, she smirked at her cousin, who sighed as Alejandra finished the remark.

"Besides, if I may speak, Mr. Cufadiss looks like he could use some R&R. And my cousin seems to be enjoying her's too much."

At that point, Aminta gritted her teeth, and forced a smile, saying, "I could use the exercise, yes." She then looked to Cufadiss and made a motion, jerking her head to another table and winking as hard as she could as she said the words.

Alejandra looked at her cousin, and muttered, "Got a facial tic there, hoss?"

(OOC: Sorry for the bad post, but it has been too long since I last posted. Better to post something than nothing.)

Battlestar Galactica:
Over Canceron.

The alarms sounded, as Action stations were called. Gaf’ton stood next to Adama, and Colonel Tigh, as they stood up at the Draidus screen. Three Enemy battlestars stood in the Reminant Fleet’s path, marked by the red blips on the Draidus.

Gaf’ton watched, as more blips began to appear, much smaller green and red dots, showing the alert vipers were away.

“Vipers Away Admiral” Lt. Gaeta reported.

He looked to his XO, “Colonel, Target the Saffron, load main batteries with salvo.”

“Yes sir, All right you nuggets, you heard the man. I want a firing solution, prepared, and fire on my mark. 5, 4, 3...”

“Sir.” Lt. Dualla spoke up. “We just received com chatter from the Big Gun and the Atlas. De Bruyn is asking for a weapons hold to begin peace talks.”

Colonel Tigh, looked at his Admiral and Gaf’ton. “Weapons hold.” he yelled out.

Admiral Adama then nodded. “Well, Admiral.” He said to Gaf’ton, “Seems we may be a little late to the dance.”

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

On Board the Big Gun:

Admiral Metaxas reached his hand out and grabbed the new Admiral of the Fleets hand. He knew the significance of this, his nation was beaten, his resources were drained. The fighting across the Colonies had ended in futile failure. Still, he knew in his heart he was right.

“Admiral.” He said, “We have an accord. I do not desire a prolonged trial. For the good of the Colonies, I will plead guilty to whatever charges you are going to levy against me. The Colonies have already been hurt enough in this. We just sent a signal to the galaxy that you can attack up without repercussions. No need to remain weaker and foster more resentment, we will need as much strength as we can muster. The Abh’s attack will not be the last, now that our enemies have been emboldened.”

“Admiral.” He said, “We have an accord. I do not desire a prolonged trial. For the good of the Colonies, I will plead guilty to whatever charges you are going to levy against me. The Colonies have already been hurt enough in this. We just sent a signal to the galaxy that you can attack up without repercussions. No need to remain weaker and foster more resentment, we will need as much strength as we can muster. The Abh’s attack will not be the last, now that our enemies have been emboldened.”

De Bruyn merely nodded at the last comment, and said simply, shaking Metaxas' hand, "A man (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chiang_Kai-shek) once said there are diseases of the skin, and of the heart. The Abh and all foreign interlopers, if you prefer to see them that way, are diseases of the skin. They can be cured easily. What just happened was a disease of the heart. That takes some time to fix." With a simple smile, he nodded and said, "We have an accord indeed. Take my words as what you will."

Motioning to the Naval Armsmen outside, two of them walked in and saluted. He then said to them, "Armsmen, escort Admiral Metaxas to the helm with me. I will follow. We have a surrender order to issue."

----------

Onboard the bridge, the crew turned to see the Admirals enter. Pushing a few buttons, De Bruyn patched in his signal to the opposition.

"Attention Tauronese Contingent. Admiral Metaxas and I have spoken on the terms of surrender, and we have agreed on the following terms."

Turning to Metaxas, he motioned for him to begin.

It was with a heavy heart, that Metaxas began. His heart was torn, as he began to speak. It wasn’t cowardice that drove this surrender, nor death in the face of the enemy, it was love. Love of his nation, Tauron, Love of his crew, love of his duty.

With that in mind, he began to speak. “Attention Tauron ships, and United Colonial Vessels. This is Ares Actual, Admiral Metaxas.”

He paused for a moment, as he looked around to the staring eyes of the Dornies and Colonials on the CIC. “As of 03:42, I have issued a surrender on behalf of Tauron. You fought with honor, and with courage. You knew what was right, and you stood up defiant against injustice, but now we must have the courage to know when to back down.”

“Each of us did our best, we won some, we lost some, however now this feud must come to an end. The Abh have a fleet on our border, and our allies the Ta’nar are not going to allow any help from our last true ally the Empire. You all are true patriots, not just of Tauron, but of the United Colonies. You have shown the Galaxy, that you will not tolerate their injustice against our nation. But now is the time to call an end to the conflict. We can not stand divided.”

“I have negotiated a very fair surrender treaty. Commanders and XO’s are to surrender themselves to a joint colonial tribunal, for individual cases of court marshals, where all others will be given amnesty. If you wish to stay in the fleet, you may, once you retake the oath, which I encourage each and every one of you to do. This is not a loss for Tauron, this is a gain for the United Colonies of Kobol.”

“I also would like to ask the civilian government of Tauron to reinstate their Quorum member. We can not be voiceless during this time, and the Quorum will need to hear our voice, as we need to hear theirs.”

“To the other twelve colonies of Kobol, I would like to congratulated you on a well earned victory. You fought well, and showed great determinism. For that I honor each of you. I urge you, to not hold the hate that you desire to against Tauron, but to accept them as the brothers that we are. Such resentment, will foster further conflicts.”

“As it is, I offer my sword to DeBruyn. All Tauron ships are to stand down, and are to rejoin the Colonial Fleet at once. This is my final order as your Admiral.”

He looked at De Bruyn, “As I said earlier, do not make this a public spectacle. I assume now that I am to be executed by firing squad?”

He looked at De Bruyn, “As I said earlier, do not make this a public spectacle. I assume now that I am to be executed by firing squad?”

De Bruyn simply said, "No." He then said to the Armsmen, "Armsmen--take the Admiral to the brig, don't let him out. Pending transfer to more permanent facilities, he will be detained there until trial." They saluted, and one said, "Let's go, sir."

As the Armsmen took the Admiral away from the bridge, De Bruyn closed the connection. He figured that was enough for now. After all, he wasn't in the mood to execute anyone.

"Forgiveness, then, Christiaan?"

"Clemency, more like. I could have him shot--but that's a waste of bullets and everyone's time. Lyndie, could you get me some tea? I need something after this."

Lyndie nodded and said, "I'll send for it."

The Waiter obliged the poor aide-de-camp, as Alejandra laughed and waved it off. "No need, Admiral. As much as I'd like to indulge in such things, I have easier, more reliable methods of hiring porters." With a sidelong glance, she smirked at her cousin, who sighed as Alejandra finished the remark.

"Besides, if I may speak, Mr. Cufadiss looks like he could use some R&R. And my cousin seems to be enjoying her's too much."

At that point, Aminta gritted her teeth, and forced a smile, saying, "I could use the exercise, yes." She then looked to Cufadiss and made a motion, jerking her head to another table and winking as hard as she could as she said the words.

Alejandra looked at her cousin, and muttered, "Got a facial tic there, hoss?"

Spoor looked at Cufadiss and narrowed a red eye his way though it was hard to tell if it was teasingly or in a threatening manner. "Alright then. I don't want the Chief to get soft on me but if your cousin is in need of a little extra work then I will not argue with you. While on his little R&R time, he can run through a manifest of the ship and see if we need any supplies while we are docked."

Cufadiss could care less at this time though. He was given a reprieve from the Admiral. It was not to say that he did not like Admiral Spoor, he admired the woman and respected her greatly. There was just something not quite right about her. She had her own quirks that kept him from ever becoming close with the woman and perhaps that was her intentions. Either way that was not for Cufadiss to concern himself with. It was time for a little vacation.

He got the hint from Aminta and would be ready to meet her at the other table when ever she got the moment to get away.

Spoor looked at Cufadiss and narrowed a red eye his way though it was hard to tell if it was teasingly or in a threatening manner. "Alright then. I don't want the Chief to get soft on me but if your cousin is in need of a little extra work then I will not argue with you. While on his little R&R time, he can run through a manifest of the ship and see if we need any supplies while we are docked."

Cufadiss could care less at this time though. He was given a reprieve from the Admiral. It was not to say that he did not like Admiral Spoor, he admired the woman and respected her greatly. There was just something not quite right about her. She had her own quirks that kept him from ever becoming close with the woman and perhaps that was her intentions. Either way that was not for Cufadiss to concern himself with. It was time for a little vacation.

He got the hint from Aminta and would be ready to meet her at the other table when ever she got the moment to get away.

Aminta then got up and left the table, muttering, "I don't have a facial tic." She then motioned for The Waiter and asked, "Are there any other expected reservations?"

"Um, why?"

"I'd like to be reseated..." Without looking at the rest of the party, she said, "It's a private matter."

The Waiter nodded, eager to avoid any trouble. "Got it. I think we got something...hereish." Pointing to a table off to the side, Aminta got up and followed the man to the new setting, and she motioned for Cufadiss to come with. Tipping the waiter, she then sat down and muttered to the Chief of Staff, "Finally. No more note passing." It was obvious Aminta shared Cufadiss's love-hate respect for Spoor--the woman knew what she was doing, but Aminta was damned if Spoor wasn't the strangest, most commanding person she had ever met.

Alejandra, at that act, merely muttered, "Let's let the children pay for their own plates. It's only fair" before taking a sip from the wine glass. She wasn't surprised at Aminta's act, but she wasn't happy that she did that, either. Didn't she know this was business time, not Playtime? Alejandra would kick her ass later on, for sure. Nothing so dickish as to deny credits....though that was tempting.

She then smiled and quipped at Spoor, "You see Admiral--that's why I said we needed her as a beast of burden. She's been too idle...gets ideas into her head. No matter. Sometimes that's a good thing--otherwise, I wouldn't have a script to pitch."

Pausing to savor her meal, Alejandra then asked a question rather up Spoor's alley.

"Say. How do you want to handle distribution? Motion pictures are a big business here on Earth, but I imagine such things have long since been superceded in the Frybarec."

Cufadiss rose from his own seat and excused himself from the Admiral's presence. He followed Amnita towards the empty and table and took a seat next to her. "Allow me to buy the first round of drinks. Now we can talk a little more openly and freely without our superiors listening in."

She then smiled and quipped at Spoor, "You see Admiral--that's why I said we needed her as a beast of burden. She's been too idle...gets ideas into her head. No matter. Sometimes that's a good thing--otherwise, I wouldn't have a script to pitch."

Spoor tipped her glass to Alejandra in approval. "I'm glad you think so rationally. It's thinking like that that will get this production of yours moving in the right direction."

The Admiral paid little attention to her meal while favoring the glass of wine and the more plain tasting foods on her plate. It was simply Abh taste where they preferred food with absolutely no taste. Odd to most, but salt was used in extremely rare cases. "Distribution within the Empire should not be a problem with material of this nature. The Empire does show media feeds that are educational and relevant to news in the universe. There are some movies that are made and shown on local planets and other territories but rarely do foreign movies make it into our territory.

Something like this, will most likely receive an endorsement from the Emperor as it would be depicting the Star Forces in a favorable light. The truth is what is important here and that is what his Majesty will be interested in showing. For additional publicity services, your actors will also be allowed to tour the Empire and promote the movie on their visits. I imagine such attention from foreign actors will help boost careers not to mention your own."

Cufadiss rose from his own seat and excused himself from the Admiral's presence. He followed Amnita towards the empty and table and took a seat next to her. "Allow me to buy the first round of drinks. Now we can talk a little more openly and freely without our superiors listening in."

"Good." She then bitterly mused with a whisper, "Though to be frank, I don't consider my cousin my superior. I consider her somebody who just thinks she's better than me because she happened to go to college and get a cushy desk job. I mean,you saw how she treated me. Only a blind elephant couldn't see that she was just trying to butter your boss up. And frankly, your boss seems to have bought it."

Sighing, she said, "Guess money changes people...." Aminta then leaned back and said, "Well, anywho, enough horseshit. They really gonna keep you busy on R&R?"

She then smiled and quipped at Spoor, "You see Admiral--that's why I said we needed her as a beast of burden. She's been too idle...gets ideas into her head. No matter. Sometimes that's a good thing--otherwise, I wouldn't have a script to pitch."

Spoor tipped her glass to Alejandra in approval. "I'm glad you think so rationally. It's thinking like that that will get this production of yours moving in the right direction."

The Admiral paid little attention to her meal while favoring the glass of wine and the more plain tasting foods on her plate. It was simply Abh taste where they preferred food with absolutely no taste. Odd to most, but salt was used in extremely rare cases. "Distribution within the Empire should not be a problem with material of this nature. The Empire does show media feeds that are educational and relevant to news in the universe. There are some movies that are made and shown on local planets and other territories but rarely do foreign movies make it into our territory.

Something like this, will most likely receive an endorsement from the Emperor as it would be depicting the Star Forces in a favorable light. The truth is what is important here and that is what his Majesty will be interested in showing. For additional publicity services, your actors will also be allowed to tour the Empire and promote the movie on their visits. I imagine such attention from foreign actors will help boost careers not to mention your own."

The last part made the producer smile, and she said, "You don't know the half of it, Admiral. You don't know the half of it. It would be a boon to all of us at People's Pictures." The way she delivered those words slyly commented on People's Pictures sagging fortunes; such largesse as Spoor predicted would only do the studio good.

Eating her food, Alejandra mused over Spoor's judgment of her as "logical." Not bad. Shame that in this business, there were divas and artistes that weren't as such.

"I'll mention that to my boss. He'll be especially pleased with the opportunity to stump for it using the studio's best."

Cufadiss flashed a rare smile at Amnita. It seemed that she had misunderstood his use of superior and also misunderstood Spoor. "I did not mean to say that your sister was somehow better than you. I only meant that she was higher ranking officer in your business.

As for the Admiral, do not be caught off guard by her musings. I assure you, she knows exactly what your sister is doing. The Admiral was a merchant long before she was ever a Star Forces officer and I have to say she was just as fierce in that realm as she is on the battle field. I have seen her negotiations with enemy commanders as proof enough with this.

I remember once, we were holding a system as long as we can to simply by the rest of our forces time to evacuate. Through sheer talking and negotiating, the Admiral managed to buy six hours of time. And that was with the negotiations ending badly at least in her opinion."

The Chief took a drink from his glass before answering. "It'll just be the routine stuff that I normally deal with. Officers will be sending me repots on the ship's status along with a few guards updating me on the whereabouts of our crew while on leave. I really don't need to be anywhere in particular to do my work since it is all through the PDA.

You know, I could come with you if you want. I know how business deals can go and it tends to help to have someone there that can distract you. With the Admiral, it's always nice to have someone around to keep me sane."

The last part made the producer smile, and she said, "You don't know the half of it, Admiral. You don't know the half of it. It would be a boon to all of us at People's Pictures." The way she delivered those words slyly commented on People's Pictures sagging fortunes; such largesse as Spoor predicted would only do the studio good.

Eating her food, Alejandra mused over Spoor's judgment of her as "logical." Not bad. Shame that in this business, there were divas and artistes that weren't as such.

"I'll mention that to my boss. He'll be especially pleased with the opportunity to stump for it using the studio's best."


"All that will be required is for someone from the Imperial court to view the movie and ensure that it does an adequate job of depicting the Abh and Star Forces. Assuming those requirements are met, you'll have yourself a franchise."

Spoor absently took another drink from her glass. "On the more economically end of the spectrum, I do hope that this type of picture has a demand on the market. There is nothing worse than trying to sell a product that no one wants. I assume you or your company has already investigated this."

Cufadiss flashed a rare smile at Amnita. It seemed that she had misunderstood his use of superior and also misunderstood Spoor. "I did not mean to say that your sister was somehow better than you. I only meant that she was higher ranking officer in your business.

As for the Admiral, do not be caught off guard by her musings. I assure you, she knows exactly what your sister is doing. The Admiral was a merchant long before she was ever a Star Forces officer and I have to say she was just as fierce in that realm as she is on the battle field. I have seen her negotiations with enemy commanders as proof enough with this.

I remember once, we were holding a system as long as we can to simply by the rest of our forces time to evacuate. Through sheer talking and negotiating, the Admiral managed to buy six hours of time. And that was with the negotiations ending badly at least in her opinion."

The Chief took a drink from his glass before answering. "It'll just be the routine stuff that I normally deal with. Officers will be sending me repots on the ship's status along with a few guards updating me on the whereabouts of our crew while on leave. I really don't need to be anywhere in particular to do my work since it is all through the PDA.

You know, I could come with you if you want. I know how business deals can go and it tends to help to have someone there that can distract you. With the Admiral, it's always nice to have someone around to keep me sane.

Aminta waved her hand with a dismissive smile. "Nah. You've had enough punishment." She then added, "And she ain't my sister. She's my cousin. A cousin I treat like a sister, warts and all. This happens to be a moment filled with warts, as you can see."

She then sipped her wine and mused, "And I for one, am glad there should be someone to put her in her place. Sometimes, she does this to suck up to people, and it pisses me off."

Aminta then wrote down her phone number, and passed it to Cufadiss, saying, "On second thought...let's exchange numbers, keep it businesslike. If we need one another, we'll know where to call. Capice?"

"All that will be required is for someone from the Imperial court to view the movie and ensure that it does an adequate job of depicting the Abh and Star Forces. Assuming those requirements are met, you'll have yourself a franchise."

Spoor absently took another drink from her glass. "On the more economically end of the spectrum, I do hope that this type of picture has a demand on the market. There is nothing worse than trying to sell a product that no one wants. I assume you or your company has already investigated this."

Alejandra sipped her glass and said, with a smile, "We wouldn't be in this business long if we didn't know what the people wanted. And what the people want are big-budget spectacles, with thought-provoking drama, reasonably pleasant ends, and lots of explosions and eye candy. It's a formula that's worked for us for many years."

Naturally, Alejandra left out the part where certain films the studio made recently flopped hard, proving there were some exceptions to the rule. But, you wouldn't know it. Alejandra remained calm and gave Spoor what she wanted.

"And, people want pictures with lots of space battles. I should know, I have kids that play those video games of theirs, with all their spacefighter sims...." She then shook her head and said, "Right."

She then scriubbled into a notepad some notes, mainly: "...franchise, yes? Perhaps do something with Spoor after this is all over. If moneymaker, propose new series of movies based on United Mankind War/Torusumi's War. Also, must pick either Eichmann, Lewis, or Seong for direction. This seems like their kind of work."

She then finished with, speaking to Spoor, "Rest assuredly, Admiral, this will sell." Alejandra then thought to herself, staying calm, "It better."

OOC: Figuring after your next post, we move to selecting actors and directors.

Cufadiss nodded his agreement as he took Amnita's number. "Of course."

The Chief wrote down a way of connecting to his clyuno then handed it over to the woman. "I for one believe you are one of the bravest people on this planet if you are willing to put up with the Admiral alone while she is discussing business. If you don't return, I want you to know you'll have a full honor burial worthy of a princess."

While Cufadiss was joking and having a good time with Amnita, Spoor was all business. She listened to Alejandra's assessment of the type of demand that was in New Dornalia. The shrewd merchant nodded her head, pleased that such intelligence had already been gathered.

"Excellent. Rest assured, we will give your audiences something they have never seen before."

Alejandra's confident reply was simply, "In that case, I think we have the beginning of something good here." Raising her glass, she then said, "Here's to a masterpiece, Admiral."

Aminta, in the meantime, replied chuckling, "Sounds like I'll be glad to be buried at all, by the sounds of it." With that, she sipped her wine glass and ate some of the fish....

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

After the meal and the settling down after, Alejandra left the Admiral to and her suffering aid to their devices, collecting her wayward cousin, and imposing the bill on her. Needless to say, it was quite a sight, one that left Aminta with a large bill on her credit card and an awkward silence on the ride home.

The night saw a flurry of calls, with Thompson's estatic joy over the snagging of Spoor's backing. The fact People's Pictures got the funds and full cooperation of one of the parties in the conflict ensured that the production would go much more smoothly than previous ones. And, if it failed, People's Pictures wouldn't suffer all the loss. Not that that option was on the table.

Thompson and Alejandra thus began working on putting out ads and such for the casting calls and want ads for directors. The right one was key--People's Pictures needed a hit, and so they needed one to fit Alejandra's formula of explosions and thought. Likewise, the right actors were needed--no one could play Spoor but someone who could capture her unique way of handling matters.

It was thus that in the morning, Spoor and her luckless assistant were called to an office in Burbank, to sit along with Alejandra and Aminta in a small auditorium, to help the auditions for roles and such whilst People's Pictures sought out directors to make the project possible. An unusual step, but then again, the Project was Thompson and Alejandra's pet project, and something to save his company, so he had certain procedures shuffled about a bit. When the Abhs got there, they would see a bustling sight--actors and actresses preening and practicing lines, voices, and verbal inflections as they got ready to participate in the make or break role of their careers.

Alejandra would get up and shake Spoor and Cufadiss's hand once they got there, saying, "Good day. We're doing auditions...right now, they're auditioning for your role." Who the your was emphasized by a nod to Spoor.

In the free time, Spoor and Cufadiss checked into their rooms as well as reserving a large portion of the hotel for the crew of the Latckau. Of course the Admiral and Chief of Staff were assigned different rooms, but Spoor made sure that his room were next to hers so that he was always within ear shot. Bags were stored away and the crew dug in for the long haul with most of them looking forward to their "extracurricular activities".

The next day, Admiral Spoor and Cufadiss arrived promptly to the meeting. Outside they caught little snip-its of people practicing lines and preparing their voices. A few looked the Admiral's way when she walked in wearing her Star Forces uniform. What she heard was not at all encouraging. Spoor was rubbing the bridge of her nose when she walked into the room.

The Baroness nodded when she heard that they were listening to contenders for her part in the film. "That's what I was afraid of."

Spoor snapped her eyes forward and moved to a seat. "Bring them in. Let's get this finished quickly. I'm not interested in lines, I want to see their personality so bring in as many as this room can handle."

It sounded insane but it looked like Spoor had a plan for filling the spot of her role.

In the free time, Spoor and Cufadiss checked into their rooms as well as reserving a large portion of the hotel for the crew of the Latckau. Of course the Admiral and Chief of Staff were assigned different rooms, but Spoor made sure that his room were next to hers so that he was always within ear shot. Bags were stored away and the crew dug in for the long haul with most of them looking forward to their "extracurricular activities".

The next day, Admiral Spoor and Cufadiss arrived promptly to the meeting. Outside they caught little snip-its of people practicing lines and preparing their voices. A few looked the Admiral's way when she walked in wearing her Star Forces uniform. What she heard was not at all encouraging. Spoor was rubbing the bridge of her nose when she walked into the room.

The Baroness nodded when she heard that they were listening to contenders for her part in the film. "That's what I was afraid of."

Spoor snapped her eyes forward and moved to a seat. "Bring them in. Let's get this finished quickly. I'm not interested in lines, I want to see their personality so bring in as many as this room can handle."

It sounded insane but it looked like Spoor had a plan for filling the spot of her role.

Alejandra was used to strange requests, but this one was definetly up there. Why the hell did she want to risk the wrath of the Fire Marshal to test people's personalities? Aminta raised an eyebrow and said, "'Scuse me?"

Alejandra then stroked her chin and muttered, vocalizing her thoughts, "Damn...the Fire Marshal's gonna have a cow. Then again......" She leaned to the side and said, "Bob, how many people can we fit in here?"

"Fire Code says five hundred."

"How many people we got?"

"About five hundred and six."

"Oh. Well, bring them all in here."

"What?"

"Do it."

With that, all the prospective actors, some veterans, some as freshfaced and clearly out of their respective acting schools, were shoved into the room. Crowding the aisles and such, they filled even the loge and balcony.

Before long, people were standing about confused, and jostling about. Murmurs of "What the?" and "The shit?" could be heard, as people tried to get some measure of comfort in the tiny spaces they were alloted in this cramped arrangement.

Spoor would be able to note some especially jumpy people. And she would note some middling personalities. And some who were calm. One person even looked rather nonplussed and bored by the whole experience, merely looking at her watch, and her lines, which consisted of a few lines photocopied out of The Merchant of Venice which corresponded to Portia's part.

Spoor was in command now as she clasped her hands behind her back underneath the deep blue fabric of her cape. The Abh Admiral paced back and forth in front of the gathered actors. Her crimson eyes studied each one of them intently and it went on for some time without a word spoken.

Eventually a pale delicate hand pointed down an extremely long line of people. The people who had the nervous look painted on their face that was so easy for a Spoor to see through. "You are all dismissed from the room. An Admiral is calm and in control of her surroundings at all times. No matter the odds, she knows what is best for her and her crew."

As they grumbled and filed out, Spoor continued studying the remaining victims that would face her judgement. The meddlers were called out next. "You are fired. No Dutchess is so petty that she concerns herself with matters that are beneath her station. A true Dutchess only takes interest in something that is worthy of her attention or might pose a source of temporary amusement. Get out."

The only ones that were left were those that were confident in their abilities. In a matter of a few minutes, Spoor had managed to drastically reduce the number actors that wanted to try out for her role. Now she continued her scrutiny of the leftovers. It was time to be more specific in who she called out.

Standing off to the side was one woman that appeared to be bored with the whole situation. A small smile spread on Spoor's lips as she sauntered to the woman. The Admiral looked the woman up and down then finally settled on her eyes. "Your skin is too dark and your hair and your eyes are the wrong color. You've never served in the military. What makes you think you are capable of adequately portraying this role?"

Standing off to the side was one woman that appeared to be bored with the whole situation. A small smile spread on Spoor's lips as she sauntered to the woman. The Admiral looked the woman up and down then finally settled on her eyes. "Your skin is too dark and your hair and your eyes are the wrong color. You've never served in the military. What makes you think you are capable of adequately portraying this role?"

The woman Spoor confronted looked at the Admiral, and said simply, assertively in a refined, uppercrust New England accent, "First things first, I have military experience. First in Navy Reserve Officers' Corps, and then in active combat as Lieutenant on the NDS Milan during the recent Nova Louisiana Wars.

The woman then structured her reply just so, emphasizing not a little bit of the calm and attention to only important details Spoor prized and mixing a degree of frankness. The pitch was key--this Admiral was not in the mood for BS, and many seemed to be culled back. Just as well, she was cringing at the lack of talent here--not that she dared to show it.

"Secondly, I have understood, Admiral, you are a woman of means with a reputation for frankness, strategic creativity and emotional stability at all times, with no tolerance for the superfluous and even less tolerance for panic or emotional bombast. My upbringing (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boston_Brahmins#Cabot) among the elite of Boston has granted me similar gifts. Though I am slightly more forgiving than my father and mother, their conservative fashion and quick-witted, frank and steady approach to even the most desperate crises left me with lessons suitable for playing, well, you."

Alejandra nodded, and took these notes down. She preferred to let Spoor pick the person to play her, so she stayed out. And Aminta had to admit--Spoor was more than a bit frightening at this moment, and this woman seemed to be holding out well. Only Spoor could say if this woman was fit to play her.

Spoor smiled inwardly as she listened to the woman speak. It was clear that she carried a sort of noble air with her that would serve well in this portrayal, but Benej needed to be sure that such higher breeding went beyond more than a quick wit.

The red eyed Admiral waved her hand as if there was a fowl smell in the room, adversely dismissing the woman's comment about her background. They were not very different from one another though the gap between terran and Abh spanned worlds.

"Tell me then, with your comfortable station and everything that you could ever want at your fingertips; why would you want to be an Admiral?"

It was a seemingly simple question but it was one that Spoor had answered herself and it had baffled many people. The answer to the question would be what swayed Spoor in favor or against this woman.

"Tell me then, with your comfortable station and everything that you could ever want at your fingertips; why would you want to be an Admiral?"

It was a seemingly simple question but it was one that Spoor had answered herself and it had baffled many people. The answer to the question would be what swayed Spoor in favor or against this woman.

The woman merely thought for a moment. She then replied rather calmly, with an assertive smile, knowing this was a test.

"Because I'm looking for a challenge. Boston high society is fun, but it becomes rather dull after a while. Likewise, living off of paychecks from various TV shows and stage plays is rather dull too. I have so much more skill than that, having led men in the service and having undergone extensive training in acting school."

She coughed and said, "To wit, I have skills that cannot be wasted on trivialities. I need something that will test me."

Spoor placed a delicate finger over her blood red lips and lightly tapped the upper lip. Without another word to the woman, the Abh admiral turned around and walked back to the waiting Alejandra and Amnita. She slowed her pace only for a moment just so she could whisper something that only they would hear.

"That's the one I want. Do whatever else you need to do to make this audition official."

With that, Spoor took a seat content with herself and with her choice. The woman prove adequate enough for portraying the great Admiral. It was just up to the two Dornalians to finish everything else off.

Aminta and Alejandra quickly got the process moving again, not eager to hold things up. They called up the woman and asked, "What's your name?"

The woman replied, "Lydia Forbes Cabot. Here is my curriculum vitae, if you so desire." Handing her resume to the producer and Aminta, the two perused it and smiled, saying at the same time, "You're hired."

Lydia replied, "Excellent." She then walked off, and sat down. As she did so, she began to size up the Admiral she would be playing. A key part of the acting she had been taught was to understand the motivations of the individual being portrayed, to act like them and think like them. Looking at Spoor's skin and her own, Lydia shrugged. Nothing a little makeup work couldn't fix. However, it would take a bit to mirror the Admiral exactly to a science. For that, she decided she needed to see the Admiral herself. Getting up and walking over to Spoor's seat, she took a seat one seat removed from the Admiral and asked, "Tell me, Admiral--is your ship in port currently? I'd like to get a good look the environment I will be playing in, to ensure the best performance."

The others moved along smoothly. Someone was chosen to play Admiral Cain, another ex-Shakespearean who had just gotten off of a production of Titus Andronicus, and someone was picked to play Donovan, the nasty engineer, and so on. Candidates were picked, lines recited and actors and actresses chosen. All in all it was a productive day.

With the people wrapped up, Alejandra muttered, "Now, all I need is a director...."

As if on cue, an old Japanese man (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v630/Senor_Nb3/akira_kurosawa_copy.jpg) could be seen standing in the doorway of the auditorium. With a felt cap, thick sunglasses and a cigarette hanging out the edge of his mouth, he walked forward and pointed to Alejandra. He simply said, "Script. Please."

Alejandra immediately handed the man a copy of Aminta's script. Thumbing through it, he nodded and nodded. Eventually, he closed the copy and said, "Hmm....Good. Needs human touch though."

"Yes, Mr. Tanigawa, but we have the right actors!"

Tanigawa immediately looked over all the actors, and after taking a long drag on his cigarette, nodded and muttered something in Japanese. He then looked up and said, "Hmm.....you have good cast. Potential. But, you need a good director to prevent this from becoming a flat revolutionary opera." Puffing on his cigarette again, he then said, "The studio has sent me. They want me tell you, don't look for any other director, for they have sent the best one they have to ensure the success of this project." Puffing his cigarette again, he then nodded once more, and took his seat, recieving a copy of the script from Aminta once he motioned for one.

Lydia, meanwhile, looked with surprise at the old man. Ryukichi "Rick" Tanigawa, a legendary filmmaker, had apparently been tapped to helm this production. Outwardly, she acknowledged it, inwardly, she was pleased, even overjoyed. The man was a god, and the films he made were usually hits.

Then, she thought: "The man has a reputation for being difficult. I hope the Admiral knows whom she's dealing with..."

It was an interesting proposal but one that Spoor had already promised Alejandra would be availible. There were the potential security risks that went along with allowing a civilian on the bridge of the ship but Abh war vessels had been used quite often as a transport of sorts for Imperial nobles. So allowing an actor on board was not actually a terrible request in perspective.

Spoor paused though as if she was weighing some great consequence. At the moment, the Admiral held all the cards and wanted to see how this woman was going to be. She had to be groomed to fit the part accurately and it was going to be as much Spoor teaching Lydia as it was Lydia observing the Abh admiral.

"The Latchkau is still in port and will be until we are finished here. Most of the ship will be open for you to view, just arrange something with my Chief of Staff. We'll be able to show you around and a few basic functions of the bridge when there is time."

"The Latchkau is still in port and will be until we are finished here. Most of the ship will be open for you to view, just arrange something with my Chief of Staff. We'll be able to show you around and a few basic functions of the bridge when there is time."

Lydia nodded, observing how Spoor paused to contemplate, and then delivered her judgment. Mentally noting this, she filed it under "mannerisms" and then said, "Very well. Where is your....Chief of Staff?" Though aware of Abh ranks roughly, she still was about to say "aide-de-camp" out of habit, and coughed, spinning it as contemplatory gesticulation. She would have to remember to commit that to memory as well...

Cufadiss cleared his throat. "That would be me."

The Abh Chief of Staff pulled out a small PDA and punched a few buttons on the glass screen. "There is currently minimal crew aboard the ship while the rest are currently on leave. At any given time, there are a handful of bridge crew members seeing to the daily functionings of the ship. If you would like to get acquainted with the layout of the bridge, then I can arrange that at your earliest convenience."

Lydia replied with a nod, "Very well, Mr. Cufadiss. Please arrange such a meeting at your earliest convienience. I believe that would be best for all, anywho."

Tanigawa, meanwhile, took the copy of the script and said to Spoor and Alexandra, "I will need to read this and consult with my staff. Please dismiss the actors and make the necessary arrangements for locations and business. I also request to not be disturbed for the next seventy two hours. Art cannot be rushed."

He then left before anyone could ask questions, leaving Alexandra to thank the actors and to report for rehearsals soon enough....

With most of the day's important events concluded, the Abh left the studio to head back to the hotel where most went about their own business. Cufadiss had reports to fill for clearance of a foreign civilian boarding a Star Forces vessel. Not to mention there was the paper work for the leave of each crew member and how much each one should receive from head quarters.

It was often tedious dealing with bureaucracy in the military but for the empire, it was all in the service of military efficiency. For that reason it seemed that Cufadiss never mined the job. Or perhaps he was simply used to it from his position as head of supplies. Either way, Cufadiss spent the last few hours of the day in his room with the T.V. on in the background while working on his PDA.

The next morning, all the arrangements had been made. A calicke was boarded up with Lydia and Cufadiss as they were outbound for the Latchkau. Cufadiss had even managed to work a few of the shifts so that some of the bridge crew members would be available for questions. The large crimson colored ship loomed closer as the shuttle approached the docking bay. The symbol of Gasaruth was painted along the side of the ship which translated into golden crow.

"Any questions before we begin the tour of the bridge?"

Back on the planet below, Spoor managed to enjoy a moment of luxury that was befitting of a dutchess. The Abh noble found herself a massage and lounged by the pool with dark glasses on and her long blue hair let down. She didn't mind what others thought, being part of the upper class in the Empire some eccentricities were accustomed.

By morning though she was ready to meet Amnita and Alejandra for a time out shopping. Spoor managed to find a dress (http://www.blogcdn.com/www.luxist.com/media/2006/04/abs-white-dress.jpg) that was less formal than the one she wore at dinner. It was functional yet classy that she wore with a wide brimmed hat to match. Spoor wasn't about to let her nice pale skin be ruined by the scorching sun of the world.

She merely smiled and waved at the two women when she saw them. "Where to first?"

"Any questions before we begin the tour of the bridge?"

Lydia looked at the vessel, intensely studying it like a hawk. It almost seemed as if the woman didn't hear Cufadiss speak, as she was quietly muttering and making mental notes of the vessel, almost affixing it into her mind. She was getting into character now. She was observing everything about her, inserting herself into the environment, trying to make it so she could naturally, on call, become the person she was supposed to be. Not merely style her behaviors after Spoor--but rather, to be her. Such was the method actor's creed as she saw it.

Thus busied, she then simply said, "Do you have any basic statistics about it at all?"

Back on the planet below, Spoor managed to enjoy a moment of luxury that was befitting of a dutchess. The Abh noble found herself a massage and lounged by the pool with dark glasses on and her long blue hair let down. She didn't mind what others thought, being part of the upper class in the Empire some eccentricities were accustomed.

By morning though she was ready to meet Amnita and Alejandra for a time out shopping. Spoor managed to find a dress (http://www.blogcdn.com/www.luxist.com/media/2006/04/abs-white-dress.jpg) that was less formal than the one she wore at dinner. It was functional yet classy that she wore with a wide brimmed hat to match. Spoor wasn't about to let her nice pale skin be ruined by the scorching sun of the world.

She merely smiled and waved at the two women when she saw them. "Where to first?"

Alejandra showed up in one of her many suits, a simple summer number with a knee length skirt and a tie to accompany it. She brought sunglasses, and a rather stylish automobile to drive the group around town. And, Aminta was in tow, although with her polo shirt and slacks, looked decidedly underdressed.

Alejandra propped up her sunglasses to look at Spoor's dress. Nodding, she took in the sundress--a decidedly light thing but useful nonetheless, given that it looked to be rather warm today in LA County--and then said, "Well, I know a John Morrison's on Rodeo that's having an excellent deal on women's wear. Let's check it out."

She then motioned for the Admiral to follow her to the car, in particular the front passenger seat. It was, by all accounts, a car resembling something like a 20th Century Lincoln Continental, but with decidedly updated furnishings, styling, and presumably fuel usage. Getting in the driver's side, she fired up the engine as she tuned the radio before driving off with the party into the unknown that was LA Traffic.

"I'd buy a Mitsubishi, but they're not known for luxury. Shame," she commented as she drove through the streets, which were surprisingly tolerant today.

"You'll find that the bridge is quite spacious with a post for almost every senior officer on board the vessel. The vessel itself is just shy of 1500 meters long with a height of 452 meters. Latchkau is armed with 6 electromagnetic rifles, 4 off the bow and 2 along the stern. She is also loaded with a large compliment of anti-matter mobile space-time mines. There also 8 steerable anti-proton cannons and the latest defense grid including pin point laser turrets for anti-missile and anti-fighter defense."

As Cufadiss lead the way on board the ship, they were greeted with a shrill whistle that was similar to that of the old maritime Navy. The rest of the command staff had decided to greet the guest formally and snapped to attention when she arrived.

The Chief of Staff returned the salute. "At ease. Baring tradition, I would like to introduce Cabot Forbes Lydia. She is the actress that will be reenacting Admiral Spoor for the upcoming production."

There were quiet a few approving smiles as they saw the actress for the first time. Cufadiss continued on down the line though. "I managed to rotate the shifts so that the Senior Gunnery Officer, Senior Communications Officer, and the Senior Engineer would be present to answer any questions you might have.

Cufadiss lead the way through the bowls of the ship to a turbolift that sent to the bridge. Doors opened and the brain network of the ship was revealed. There were no windows for an external view and the scene was almost cold and metallic. At the pinnacle of the bridge was a well cushioned couch with four posts and fine exotic fabrics acting as sheer shroud around the throne. Off to the side was a station with glass console sunk lower than the Admiral's seat.

"This is where the Admiral commands the fleet." Cufadiss indicated by pointing at the cushioned seat. "And the Chief of Staff's post is next to her here."

A few feet ahead of them was the railing that often accompanied Spoor as she leaned on it smooth surface to stare down at the holographic battle map to study the field. Surrounding the map below were stations of analysts who processed information on the enemy, the results of attacks, and possible strategies.

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

Spoor nodded her approval of the sale and followed the other ladies to the vehicle waiting by. She took her seat on the passenger side and allowed herself to relax in the foreign vehicle.

"I'm not familiar with that name. Do they produce some sort of craft?"

"You'll find that the bridge is quite spacious with a post for almost every senior officer on board the vessel. The vessel itself is just shy of 1500 meters long with a height of 452 meters. Latchkau is armed with 6 electromagnetic rifles, 4 off the bow and 2 along the stern. She is also loaded with a large compliment of anti-matter mobile space-time mines. There also 8 steerable anti-proton cannons and the latest defense grid including pin point laser turrets for anti-missile and anti-fighter defense."

As Cufadiss lead the way on board the ship, they were greeted with a shrill whistle that was similar to that of the old maritime Navy. The rest of the command staff had decided to greet the guest formally and snapped to attention when she arrived.

The Chief of Staff returned the salute. "At ease. Baring tradition, I would like to introduce Cabot Forbes Lydia. She is the actress that will be reenacting Admiral Spoor for the upcoming production."

There were quiet a few approving smiles as they saw the actress for the first time. Cufadiss continued on down the line though. "I managed to rotate the shifts so that the Senior Gunnery Officer, Senior Communications Officer, and the Senior Engineer would be present to answer any questions you might have.

Cufadiss lead the way through the bowls of the ship to a turbolift that sent to the bridge. Doors opened and the brain network of the ship was revealed. There were no windows for an external view and the scene was almost cold and metallic. At the pinnacle of the bridge was a well cushioned couch with four posts and fine exotic fabrics acting as sheer shroud around the throne. Off to the side was a station with glass console sunk lower than the Admiral's seat.

"This is where the Admiral commands the fleet." Cufadiss indicated by pointing at the cushioned seat. "And the Chief of Staff's post is next to her here."

A few feet ahead of them was the railing that often accompanied Spoor as she leaned on it smooth surface to stare down at the holographic battle map to study the field. Surrounding the map below were stations of analysts who processed information on the enemy, the results of attacks, and possible strategies.

Lydia nodded as Cufadiss gave her what the Dornalians would dub the "ten-cent tour." Of the bridge. She was too in focus to notice the sudden change to Abh name ordering--if Lydia wasn't trying to get into character she would think they were butchering it via machine translator.

The Admiral's chair was particularly enticing to Lydia. After all, it was where the woman she was supposed to imitate sat and did her martial business. Thus, she strolled over to it, and sat down, observing the console. Pulling out a pen she had in her pocket, she swooshed it around, imitating a commander's saber.

Frowning, she paused for a moment, and began muttering to herself. One would almost call her crazy, as she puttered about the bridge, observing the stations, absorbing what Cufadiss had said, asking the occasional question abotu their function to the right officer and to Mr. Cufadiss and getting the appropriate answer. As she asked about those, Lydia also occasionally solicited opinions about the Admiral, mixing them with what she knew to be true from her meeting with the woman and mixing them with her acting lessons.

The character was taking shape...indeed, a few of the people onboard would notice the Bostonian eyeing the map with a familiar gaze.

Spoor nodded her approval of the sale and followed the other ladies to the vehicle waiting by. She took her seat on the passenger side and allowed herself to relax in the foreign vehicle.

"I'm not familiar with that name. Do they produce some sort of craft?"

As they paused in a traffic jam, Alejandra described things simply.

"Oh, Mitsubishi makes all kinds of vehicles. Terrestrial cars, hover cars, speeder bikes, gravbikes, shuttles--they apparently managed to license the Raptor and they've actually improved it--and industrial vehicles."

Aminta added, "They don't just make cars. The Mitsubishi Holdings Group also make planes, trains, tanks, consumer electronics and all sorts of industrial equipment. They even have their own bank."

When Alejandra looked at Aminta, she shrugged and went, "Learned that from the Knowledge Channel. Also learned that recently, their stock isn't doing so hot--they're still doing good, but not as good as they used to have been, compared to NORINCO or Jensen or Shimada-Kawasaki."

As the tour progressed around the bridge, the lights to the tactical battle map would flicker on as they approached. There were no hostiles in the area but the ships sensors were still actively scanning the area and taking reading on ships that passed by the planet. Green orbs with blue dots at the center floated passed a singular green orb that was a bit larger. The Baronh alphabet branched off as known vessels were identified and kept in the friendly green.

A mirror image of the battle map was displayed at the very front of the bridge on eye level of the command deck. "This is the Latchkau's tactical battle map. It identifies friendly, neutral, and hostile craft in the area as well as any debris from an engagement."

Cufadiss brought the tour up short next to the railing. "Below, the Admiral's analysts can study the enemy's fleet movements and attacks. From there they can process the data and aid the Admiral in any upcoming engagement if she requires it. The map directly ahead is on a holographic screen that can display other images besides the TBM. By positioning the map directly ahead, it provides the Admiral with an easy view of the enemy's formation and their maneuvers. It also allows her to see our own formation and the results of opposing attacks."

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

Spoor frowned as she looked out the window and watched the high rises pass by. From all appearances, she seemed to be disinterested in the stocks of the Mitsubishi company but with Spoor it was difficult to read what her true interests were. Before entering the Star Forces, Spoor had been a merchant with a reputation of a being a fierce negotiator but she was ultimately quite successful.

"The key to any successful company is to be diversified in your production. All the great ones in the Empire have manufactured goods from anti-matter gravity stabilizers to hospital food replicators.

It sounds like this Mitsubishi company has a decent range of goods. Why the poor turn out?"

As the tour progressed around the bridge, the lights to the tactical battle map would flicker on as they approached. There were no hostiles in the area but the ships sensors were still actively scanning the area and taking reading on ships that passed by the planet. Green orbs with blue dots at the center floated passed a singular green orb that was a bit larger. The Baronh alphabet branched off as known vessels were identified and kept in the friendly green.


"I see."

Lydia looked forward at the map, and witnessed its display dance and course with its view of Earthbased traffic. The Dornalians had similar systems, so it wasn't so hard to get used to once Cufadiss informed her of its function. However, the woman, looking at the projection in front of her and getting into character, then spoke in a familiar, sultry, lively, and utterly bossy tone to Cufadiss, one that he probably thought he escaped.

"Thank you, Mr. Cufadiss. Although, for future reference, I would have you be rather more concise. No need to putter about how the screen can do this and that now."


It sounds like this Mitsubishi company has a decent range of goods. Why the poor turn out?"

Alejandra and Aminta looked at one another, each seeing if the other had the answers. After a few shrugs, Aminta replied, "I heard from one of my friends who's a big gearhead that recently, Mitsubishi's been having a couple of problems. One is that apparently, there's some trouble in the upper echelons. Something about a family dispute over who gets to run the company when the current CEO kicks the bucket. Rumors of that have sent the price of their stock downwards.

Two, apparently the light shuttle market is a competitive one--a very competitive one where there's a massive sales war between NORINCO, Mitsubishi and Ford-Aerotech to build all sorts of crazycool versions of the Colonial Raptor for civilian use, thanks to De Bruyn's Enabling Act. And apparently, NORINCO's Type 1 Shuttle is outselling the Hayabusa, Mitsubishi's take on the Raptor, thanks to an even cheaper sticker price and the fact that NORINCO's marshaled the entire resources of six plants to build the damn thing.

Add to the fact that someone at Sales made the stupid decision to sell the things at Employee Discounted rates and that someone at Quality Control, in an effort to rush production, forgot to check some of the parts, and you have a drop in profits and complaints about reliability in some of the Hayabusa models."

Aminta even leaned forward and turned on the radio, where, sure enough, the local Mitsubishi dealer offered to the public a "brand new Hayabusa GX shuttle, with our new Employee Discount!"

Cufadiss had deeply hoped he had left all symbolance of tyranny with Admiral Spoor down on the planet. He didn't quite appreciate the way Lydia began addressing him though it wouldn't do to criticize her now. The beleaguered Chief would just have to tolerate the tone for now.

"Yes ma'am. Then in keeping with matters concise, is there anything else that you would like to see or ask?"

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

Spoor chewed on the side of her finger and smiled. It was a habit she tended to exhibit when she was thinking something over. She continued to watch the buildings go by as she looked out the window. Something was beginning to form in her mind.

"I see. Two of those problems are easily solved and I'm quite confident that I could produce a shuttle cheaper than any of the companies. I'll need to study the stock ratings and formulate how much it would cost to purchase over fifty percent of the company.

There's nothing worse than horrible business management. Mercantilism is only for the cunning and those who understand the art of haggling. The company appears to have grown stagnant."

Cufadiss had deeply hoped he had left all symbolance of tyranny with Admiral Spoor down on the planet. He didn't quite appreciate the way Lydia began addressing him though it wouldn't do to criticize her now. The beleaguered Chief would just have to tolerate the tone for now.

"Yes ma'am. Then in keeping with matters concise, is there anything else that you would like to see or ask?"

In character, Lydia leaned against a patch of wall, yawned and then said, "Take me to Engineering, Mr. Cufadiss, be quick about it."

Lydia by now was sure she was in character. After all, Spoor had been known to grate on her Chief of Staff, and the reactions in the theater seemed to confirm this. She immediately began walking to the door, waiting for Mr. Cufadiss there.

Spoor chewed on the side of her finger and smiled. It was a habit she tended to exhibit when she was thinking something over. She continued to watch the buildings go by as she looked out the window. Something was beginning to form in her mind.

"I see. Two of those problems are easily solved and I'm quite confident that I could produce a shuttle cheaper than any of the companies. I'll need to study the stock ratings and formulate how much it would cost to purchase over fifty percent of the company.

There's nothing worse than horrible business management. Mercantilism is only for the cunning and those who understand the art of haggling. The company appears to have grown stagnant."

Aminta and Alejandra looked at one another and nodded somewhat nervously. If there was one painfully obvious thing going on here, it was that Spoor was about to go on an economic rampage. Pity the poor Mitsubishi corporation....if the legends were true, they were going to regret ever piquing Spoor's fancy.

Getting onto Rodeo Drive, the Lincoln Continental eventually parallel parked onto the side of the road next to their destination. Letting the Admiral out, ALejandra bade Aminta to pick up a copy of the LA Times, to get the stock quotes for Spoor. When all was said and done, Alejandra would point their way to their first stop--the John Morrison outlet store, New Dornalia's store for the fashion concious.

Cufadiss hit the panel to activate the turbolift. It would be a strait shot down to the engineering level that housed the reactor and stations that monitored the ship's shield levels. By now he didn't need to be told to hurry up since he was now ready to be rid of this woman that fancied treating him like Admiral Spoor. One woman was enough, he didn't need two.

The lift stopped at the central deck with it being mostly vacant. This could be considered the grunt level of the ship where the most humans worked to keep the ship running and in the fight. "The forward area of this section manages the main electrical systems for the ship. The center section monitors shield outputs and the space-time bubble generator. The rear section of this area houses anti-matter reactor along with the stations that monitor engine output."

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

Spoor adjusted her hat as she exited the car and gave the store before her a once over. When she entered the store, she was greeted with a new center of fashion that was different from that of the Empire. It was easy to see that the clothing here was of fine quality and would go good with any Dutchess's street clothes.

It was time to spend a little money and for a day out with the girls.

Cufadiss hit the panel to activate the turbolift. It would be a strait shot down to the engineering level that housed the reactor and stations that monitored the ship's shield levels. By now he didn't need to be told to hurry up since he was now ready to be rid of this woman that fancied treating him like Admiral Spoor. One woman was enough, he didn't need two.

The lift stopped at the central deck with it being mostly vacant. This could be considered the grunt level of the ship where the most humans worked to keep the ship running and in the fight. "The forward area of this section manages the main electrical systems for the ship. The center section monitors shield outputs and the space-time bubble generator. The rear section of this area houses anti-matter reactor along with the stations that monitor engine output."

Fancied? If Cufadiss knew about Method Acting, then he probably might see that Lydia would only wish to fancy herself every inch the Admiral. As it was, the Bostonian was "getting into character"--the reason behind this trip and the reason why she was berating Cufadiss as such. After all, if the real Spoor did it, why not her simulacrum? Privately, she felt she was succeeding--Cufadiss was not pleased, and his haste indicated as such. "Keep at it, Lyd," she thought to herself. "Be the Admiral."

Arriving in Engineering, Lydia sauntered through the machinery, nodding as Cufadiss kept things brief. Yawning, she then said, "Good. You're learning. Now, one last place--Weapons."

As she delivered the orders, and slipped into character, she thought of two things. How would Spoor react right now? And, if this is what Spoor naturally does, then it shouldn't be a problem--pay your conscience no mind, it's an act.

Spoor adjusted her hat as she exited the car and gave the store before her a once over. When she entered the store, she was greeted with a new center of fashion that was different from that of the Empire. It was easy to see that the clothing here was of fine quality and would go good with any Dutchess's street clothes.

It was time to spend a little money and for a day out with the girls.

Sautnering into the store, the party would find a shopgirl waiting to ambush them, asking, "May I help you find something today?"

Alejandra waved her off dismissively, saying, "No, I think we're okay."

"Well, you'd be pleased to know that the Summer Sale is going on now--we have all items half off, including some summer colors and items that would go great on you, ma'am." The last part was directed at Spoor, who was greeted with a motion to the "Looks of Summer" area, where fine seasonal clothing could be seen. Naturally, there weren't any price tags--but Aminta got the sense you didn't ask how much the clothing was here. Unless you couldn't pay for it.

"Weapon systems are fairly spread out through the ship. Viewing a map of the ship might be more speedient."

Cufadiss walked over to one of the engineering consoles and activated the screen. Punching a few letters on the glass screen, an outline of the ship which was then honeycombed into sections soon appeared on the screen. Baronh letters categorized each section of the ship.

"If you'll look at the screen, each department serves some purpose aboard the ship."

The Chief began pointing along the outer sections of the ship to highlight them. "These are the point defense sections where Abh officers enter their pods and man the laser turrets which are effective against missiles and mines as well as enemy fighters."

Cufadiss then pointed at the rear wings and front prongs of the ship. "Here is where the electromagnetic rifles are housed along with their magazines. Loading procedures are handled by machines since each round is quite large. However, there are monitoring stations where crew members ensure that all parts are working efficiently and power supply is maintained. Firing controls for the rifles are located back on the bridge where the Gunnery Officer has the control.

Along these corridors as well are the stations for the anti-proton cannons. Much like the rifles, there are monitoring stations to ensure that a constant charge is maintained throughout the battle. The difference here is that the controls for firing are in the monitoring station as well. Targeting is handled by the Chief of Staff while the Admiral's orders are relayed to the crew below."

Cufadiss then focused on a mid section that was not too far from their current location. "Here are the fueling stations for the anti-matter mines that are launched much like a missile would be in other navies though our mines have other properties as well. They can be used as a defense bubble against incoming fighters as well as anti-fighter or anti-missile ordinances. Their offensive capabilities work well against larger ships with multiple mines being fired to overwhelm a ship's defenses.

The stations below monitor the fueling process as well as launch the mines when the Admiral orders. The chief of staff handles the targeting information which is then transferred to the mines targeting system."

Finished with his presentation, Cufadiss turned back to face Lydia. "If you would like to visit any of these station, then do let me know."

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

Being a baroness, meant that Spoor was used to some sense of finery though she often did things for herself. That was just her personality. But with this being a vacation of sorts, she was willing to indulge herself with a little vanity.

The Abh admiral looked at the girl only briefly then turned her attention to the store itself. "Let's see how good you truly are. I am unfamiliar with Earth fashion. What is it that you would recommend here for someone in high standings?"

"Weapon systems are fairly spread out through the ship. Viewing a map of the ship might be more speedient."

Cufadiss walked over to one of the engineering consoles and activated the screen. Punching a few letters on the glass screen, an outline of the ship which was then honeycombed into sections soon appeared on the screen. Baronh letters categorized each section of the ship.

"If you'll look at the screen, each department serves some purpose aboard the ship."

The Chief began pointing along the outer sections of the ship to highlight them. "These are the point defense sections where Abh officers enter their pods and man the laser turrets which are effective against missiles and mines as well as enemy fighters."

Cufadiss then pointed at the rear wings and front prongs of the ship. "Here is where the electromagnetic rifles are housed along with their magazines. Loading procedures are handled by machines since each round is quite large. However, there are monitoring stations where crew members ensure that all parts are working efficiently and power supply is maintained. Firing controls for the rifles are located back on the bridge where the Gunnery Officer has the control.

Along these corridors as well are the stations for the anti-proton cannons. Much like the rifles, there are monitoring stations to ensure that a constant charge is maintained throughout the battle. The difference here is that the controls for firing are in the monitoring station as well. Targeting is handled by the Chief of Staff while the Admiral's orders are relayed to the crew below."

Cufadiss then focused on a mid section that was not too far from their current location. "Here are the fueling stations for the anti-matter mines that are launched much like a missile would be in other navies though our mines have other properties as well. They can be used as a defense bubble against incoming fighters as well as anti-fighter or anti-missile ordinances. Their offensive capabilities work well against larger ships with multiple mines being fired to overwhelm a ship's defenses.

The stations below monitor the fueling process as well as launch the mines when the Admiral orders. The chief of staff handles the targeting information which is then transferred to the mines targeting system."

Finished with his presentation, Cufadiss turned back to face Lydia. "If you would like to visit any of these station, then do let me know."



Lydia then said simply, "I would like to visit all of them, Mr. Cufadiss, thank you. And make it snappy."



Being a baroness, meant that Spoor was used to some sense of finery though she often did things for herself. That was just her personality. But with this being a vacation of sorts, she was willing to indulge herself with a little vanity.

The Abh admiral looked at the girl only briefly then turned her attention to the store itself. "Let's see how good you truly are. I am unfamiliar with Earth fashion. What is it that you would recommend here for someone in high standings?"

The shopgirl, brimming with trained civility and genteel manner, motioned to a clothing rack and said, "Right this way, ma'am."

The rack that Spoor and Company were led to was no less than some of the most expensive and good looking clothing in the shop. "Judging by your look, your composure, status....well, I would start with this." Handing Spoor a Little Black Dress, she said, "This should be part of any discerning woman's wardrobe, especially for formal gatherings in the evening. I recommend this Deluxe Demarche model; we can custom tailor it for you if you so wish, along with our other items."

Pointing to the summer clothing, she then said, "We also have other items as well--sundresses for example. I think a nice shade of kelly green or light yellow would look good on you in the summer months. Perfect for a picnic, or a nice day out." Then, she went on to foist upon Spoor and Company all sorts of dresses, coats, trenchcoats, cravats, Asian dresses such as Aodais (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aodai) and cheongsams (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cheongsam) and clothing inspired by them, all kinds of skirts, kilts and pants, and so on--even military-inspired clothing that resembed the People's Navy uniforms, enlisted and officers.

This was not exactly what Cufadiss had been hoping for when he wanted to get the actress off the ship quickly. Traveling the expanse of the ship to study weapon systems was going to take some time and a lot of walking.

"Then we will see anti-matter fueling first."

Cufadiss lead the way through the ship for a few minutes as they covered a lot of ground on foot. Eventually they made their way into a large room with a thick glass window overlooking a large storage unit. Walking up to the glass, Cufadiss presented the anti-matter mobile mines to Lydia.

"Fueling is automated by secure lines with a soft dock to the mine to prevent ruptures. The controls here at the panels monitor pressure, fuel levels, and thrust for the mines. There are also emergency shut off controls."

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

Spoor looked at the dresses as they were presented to her but she wasn't entirely pleased with what she saw. There was a small black dress that fit her fancy but the rest of it was hard going.

"Is this all that you stock? You can do better than this. Show me what is the most current fashion trend that is suitable for formal wear and not just a stroll down the street."

This was not exactly what Cufadiss had been hoping for when he wanted to get the actress off the ship quickly. Traveling the expanse of the ship to study weapon systems was going to take some time and a lot of walking.

"Then we will see anti-matter fueling first."

Cufadiss lead the way through the ship for a few minutes as they covered a lot of ground on foot. Eventually they made their way into a large room with a thick glass window overlooking a large storage unit. Walking up to the glass, Cufadiss presented the anti-matter mobile mines to Lydia.

"Fueling is automated by secure lines with a soft dock to the mine to prevent ruptures. The controls here at the panels monitor pressure, fuel levels, and thrust for the mines. There are also emergency shut off controls."

Lydia nodded and then said, "To the next point, Mr. Cufadiss. Unless you wish to test fire somehting."

Spoor looked at the dresses as they were presented to her but she wasn't entirely pleased with what she saw. There was a small black dress that fit her fancy but the rest of it was hard going.

"Is this all that you stock? You can do better than this. Show me what is the most current fashion trend that is suitable for formal wear and not just a stroll down the street."

The clerk nodded, with the trained aplomb that came with her job. She was used to unsatisfied customers, especially those who happened to be teenagers and spoiled ones at that. Spoor was neither of those, but she was definetly unhappy. Thusly, the shopgirl led the Admiral to a selection of evening wear.

"Here you go. Here is our finest selection of evening wear. Gowns, dresses--backless and with back--corsets to match, formal dresses--we have it all in stock." Sure enough, a selection of clothing came up, ranging from the aforementioned backless dresses (in a variety of backlessness) to more staid gowns to formal evening dresses and even a woman's power suit and Audrey Hepburn's number from Breakfast at Tiffany's. "Ooh, here's something you may enjoy. Let me show you."

Pulling out a red dress from the rack, she then held it out, revealing a stunning number augmented with crystals and such (http://www.made-in-china.com/image/2f0j00EeNaSwdCMDkIM/Evening-Dress-Bridesmaid-Gown-with-Swarovski-Crystals-CC-1087-.jpg). She then said, "What do you think?"

"I doubt Earth's defenses would appreciate if we test fired something at the moment. Please follow me."

Their next destination wasn't much further with only few turns in the halls and a flight of stairs to manage before they reached the first series of defense turret stations. A wall of pressurized doors greeted the tour group as they arrived and stopped for Cufadiss to explain. He pressed a few glass buttons on the side and one of the door opened and slid a chair out for a Star Forces personnel.

"An Abh crew member sits here and basically plugs his froch into the port. Inside is a screen that lights up hostiles and incoming projectiles. Controls for the cannons are in front by the screen."

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

The dresses were in fact of better quality and design but they just weren't catching Spoor's attention. All that she could do is shake her head as one dress after another was shown to her with ultimately nothing appealing to her. The Dutchess was all but ready to move on to the next store when she saw the final piece. It was just red enough and flashy enough to catch her eye.

Spoor looked it over for a moment then nodded her head. "Yes, I believe that will do nicely. Now I just need something simple but eloquent. Something that can be worn informally but yet still stunning."