The Turning of a Wraith

Rattler · February 25, 1999

Gentlemen, and Ladies!

In reading my last post, Commander Guy Campbell sent me this via email. Since I have been alluding to an Oriental Undertone in my past posts, I find this a fitting place to share his email with you. Hope you like it as much as I do, and "Insurgents", take these words to heart. They reflect the gravity and seriousness of what an ACTUAL Warrior should always think. Enjoy, and Thanks Guy!

quote:

Excellent Rat. And here's a quote from Lao-Tsu which pertains to the Insurgent situation (I would deliver this on a scroll at Akira's bed side):

Weapons are the tools of violence;

all decent men detest them.

Weapons are the tools of fear;

a decent man will avoid them

except in the direst necessity

and if compelled, will use then

only with the utmost restraint.

Peace is his higher value.

However, if the peace is shattered,

how can he be content?

His enemies are not demons,

but human beings like himself.

He doesn't wish them personal harm

Nor does he rejoice in victory.

How could he rejoice in victory

and delight in the slaughter of men?

He enters a battle gravely,

with sorrow and with great compassion,

as if he were attending a funeral.

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

Rattler, Spectre, Insurgent One

Official BC3K Tester

[email protected]

ICQ 12894104

[This message has been edited by Rattler (edited 02-24-99).]

Charles Lindsey · March 14, 1999

As they exited the jump Chavik ordered the MK2 brought around. "Commander, Does this ship have a name?" asked Chavik.

"No, sir. I haven't decided yet," replied the commander.

"Ah, a top grad. It's a rare honor to get to name your own ship. Be proud of that."

"I am sir, thank you sir,"said the commander.

"And do you have a name as well?" asked Chavik.

Yes sir, Woods sirs. Commander Timothy Woods."

"Well Commander Woods, you may or may not have heard much before launch but we just had a large contingent of Wraith Fleet come knocking on our door. Something is definitely up for that to happen. I thought everyone was still mopping up from the recent Gammulan attack but apparently not. Akira is out and Rattler is busy playing host to the enemy. That leaves us to see if there is anything to see. We shall remain cloaked and watch. Understood?"

"Yes sir, perfectly sir."

"Thank you," said Chavik. "Now I need some rest while they have their little tea party. I'll be in my quarters. Which are where Commander Woods?"

"Personnel Quarters one sir, Room one," said Commander Woods.

"Thank you," said Chavik, "contact me there should anything interesting happen." Chavik made his way to his quarters without to much trouble. The MK2's were laid out differently than the BC's but the wall markers pointed the way. He followed them subconsciously while he thought about the Wraith outside of Spectre. What an image that conjured up. He found his quarters and lay down wishing he were a fly on the wall inside Spectre.

Commanders Woods watched Chavik leave before commenting. "Great, just great. Our first mission and we get to baysit some high Muckety-muck on a milk run."

"Now, Tim," said Jhoanna Hayes, the ships Comms officer and co-graduate with Timothy Woods, "we can't reclaim Earth in a day, nor can we take out the Gammulans. I think we'll learn alot. I was monitoring comms while the ship was getting ready and intercepted a few things. Tight beam Transmissions intended for Spectre only but I had some frequency bleed checking a system and caught it. Chavik is the one who brought Akira back. He and Locke did. They found him in nullspace using some new tech we are not supposed to know about. I tried looking into the files but they were locked. Command staff only."

"Maybe so," said Commander Woods, "but I still don't like babysitting a shopkeeper."

Don Hill, the ship's Tactical officer spoke up, "If it weren't for Chavik we wouldn't be in this ship now would we? Stores are running great. Money doesn't grow on trees and we are actually turning a profit. Too bad trading runs are seen as punishment by those commanders assigned to them."

"What, you wanna be a shopkeep?"

"Dunno yet," said Hill, "but tactics are hard to perform without logistics. Ya gots to have the tools before you can do the job is all I'm saying."

"Well we'll see," said Woods, "I still think this is gonna be a grocery run. But, stations guys, might as well do the best job we can. I did catch a glimpse of Chavik after that cloaking maneuver. He wasn't happy."

Forty-five minutes later ships began emerging from Spectre again. "Wraith ships in sight," reported Mr. Hill.

"Better inform the shopkeep," said Commander Woods.

"You're gonna slip up one of these days Commander Woods. Patching thru to Chavik's quarters now," said Isaac Tidwell, the comms officer.

Chavik started at the comms beep. He had been dozing in that state where thoughts turned to dreams but thought you were awake. Miniature Wraith's were fighting the grand Spectre. Flitting here and there but never quite connecting. Saying things. Comms perhaps? He looked at the clock. Fifty minutes. Just long enough to be really groggy. Chavik made his way to the bridge.

As soon as Chavik arrived on the bridge Mr. Hill reported the tactical situation. "Grab a lock on the Graf Spee and pursue. Maintain cloak and keep the Mark2 a distance of 200 clicks. I'm not very imaginative I'm afraid. For this sub rosa mission I shall refer to this ship as the Mark2 in deference to her designation. Any objections Commander Woods?"

"None for now sir, Mark2 is fine. Better than some I've thought of," Said Commander Woods.

"Good," said Chavik, "Let's see what happens now."

"Mr. Hill, follow that ship," said Commander Woods.

"Aye sir."

Commander Chavik

ICV Mark2(High muckety muck in charge)

Timothy Woods

ICV Mark2

"On a grocery run"

Just goofing off with this one. Got to close things out. I know there has to be a military term for high muckety muck visiting a ship and being in charge of a mission just couldn't think of it. Rattler?

And it does sound like I am tooting my own horn for a bit but that's the only thing I am familiar with. The commander is unhappy but the others come to his defense in a way. I think this kind of conflict is universal. No one knows how to a job better than the man doing it. Same is true for me. My boss doesn't know half (probably more) of what I actually do.

Anyway just goofing off. Hope you enjoy. have a good one all. Maybe we won't get into too much trouble with this thread. Hint, hint?

Forshadowing?

[This message has been edited by Charles Lindsey (edited 03-14-99).]

Gallion · March 14, 1999

(rp)

Corsair Wing made it. They were 50km from the safety and security of Wraith-HQ. Per Corsair SOP, each ship was cloaked and would remain cloaked until docked within the space station. This is done to hide the WingÔÇÖs movements from prying eyes. Eyes that do not need to know where Corsair Wing is located.

The GCV Graf SpeeÔÇÖs acting commander, LtCmdr Gweedo, was worried. Ever since the wing left SpectreÔÇÖs home system, he had a feeling that they were being followed. Each time the wing exited a jump point, there was always one more flash of light than the number of ships traveling to Wraith-HQ in Corsair Wing. Gweedo counted seven of these ÔÇ£jump point anomaliesÔÇØ each time the wing exited a jump point, plus one more shortly after.

The DaeÔÇÖmar; Part One

GallionÔÇÖs dream of bliss changed to one of mocking. From soaring with birds to one of desolation and betrayal as he saw a man stabbed in the back.

Do you have thirty pieces of Silver Gallion?

In his dream, Gallion turned around and around trying to locate and face the voice of his dreams. Thirty pieces of Silver, what the ÔÇª I have over 500 million Galcreds he thought to himself as he tried to locate the source of the voice.

The Welcome; Part One

The commander of the GCV Prinze Eugen released the ships of Corsair Wing to dock with Wraith-HQ when they reached auto-docking range, 25km from the space station. One by one, each ship received docking clearance and was controlled by the massive space station. The GVC Graf Spee was assigned its normal docking bay, one that no other ship would share or berth at while the ship was deployed. Docking Bay 13.

The DaeÔÇÖmar; Part Two

Well Gallion, do you have thirty pieces of Silver?

ÔÇ£Of course I have thirty pieces of Silver,ÔÇØ Gallion yelled to nothing and no one at the same time, ÔÇ£thirty pieces and then some. Who are you?ÔÇØ

For our god is a vengeful god and yea he is the god of fire and anger

and even unto a god of cruelty for he hath made us flawed in his image

The Welcome; Part Two

Once the Graf Spee had docked with Wraith-HQ, Lt. Cmdr Gweedo ordered the cloaking device to be deactivated. Without a word from the acting commander of the Graf Spee, the crew began post-docking procedures. Requisitions were approved and sent, repair were prioritized and scheduled, and replacement personnel assigned.

Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo approved the last requisition and activated the ship intercom, ÔÇ£GnySgt York, report to the MediBay ASAP!ÔÇØ Gweedo departed the bridge, heading for the MediBay.

The DaeÔÇÖmar; Part Three

ÔÇ£What are you?ÔÇØ

For our god is a vengeful god and yea he is the god of fire and anger

And even unto a god of cruelty for he hath made us flawed in his image

The Welcome; Part Three

Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo and GnySgt York arrived at the MediBay at the same time. Medics were preparing Commander Gallion for transport to the Wraith medical facility. For the first time, Lt. Cmdr. Looked at his commander laying helplessly in a transport gurney. Gallion looked like a wreck. Tubes, leads, and sensors were hooked up to his seemingly healthy body in and on places that were not meant for them.

Gweedo noticed something about the commanderÔÇÖs uniform that he did not notice before. GallionÔÇÖs Galcom pin, his wings, were missing. An observation that sparked another revelation to the acting commander of the GCV Graf Spee. He turned and asked GnySgt York a simple question, ÔÇ£what happened to Commander GallionÔÇÖs Galcom pin and his Datapad Gunny York?ÔÇØ Not waiting for the surprised marine to respond he answered his own question, ÔÇ£they are both on Spectre arenÔÇÖt they?ÔÇØ

Gunnery Sergeant York looked as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He just looked at Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo and nodded his head ever so slightly. Before Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo could grill the tightlipped further, the shipÔÇÖs intercom piped in, ÔÇ£Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo, incoming message from Wraith-HQ. Routing to MediBay.ÔÇØ

The DaeÔÇÖmar; Part Four

ÔÇ£Where are you!ÔÇØ

and he hath hidden the lure of perfection in our grasp

That we would bring down the final fiery Armageddon on our own heads

The Welcome; Part Four

Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo accessed the incoming message at the duty officerÔÇÖs station in the MediBay and shook his head. Commander Tac, Wraith Fleet Leader, wanted Commander Gallion to report to his office immediately. This will not be pretty, Gweedo thought to himself, Cmdr Tac will blow a stack when he reads the wingÔÇÖs casualty list. Guess he hasnÔÇÖt done that yet. He turned to the Medical Officer, Lt. Cmdr Katara, and asked, ÔÇ£has the casualty list been sent yet?ÔÇØ ÔÇ£Yes it has,ÔÇØ Lt. Cmdr. Katara replied, ÔÇ£as soon as we docked I sent it out. Along with the patient transfer request to the Wraith medical facility.ÔÇØ

The DaeÔÇÖmar; Part Four

in striving to reach our destiny serve with honor ÔÇª remember

Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo looked at his bed stricken commander. A look of fear and despair was on his face. Suddenly, without warning, the life support equipment monitoring the Graf Spee commanderÔÇÖs condition sounded an alarm. Life support readings, pulse, blood pressure, and brain wave patterns were pegged off scale. Ripping the medical equipment sensor leads from his body as Gallion rose upright on the transport gurney and shouted, ÔÇ£Show yourself! Tell me who you are!ÔÇØ

As quickly as it started, GallionÔÇÖs outburst ended. But not before Gallion looked at Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo with a soul piercing glare that made Gweedo take a half step back from the gurney and said, ÔÇ£Paint it black, with the Skull and bones in white on the solar panels.ÔÇØ Gallion collapsed back into a quasi-coma on the transport gurney. Medics and the Medical Officer rushed to GallionÔÇÖs side, trying to stabilize the delirious Corsair Wing Leader.

remember

The voice faded away from GallionÔÇÖs now deranged mind and dream and was replaced with an image of the black void of space. Within this black void, the shape of a Galactan Class Battlecruiser could faintly be seen. The Battlecruiser was black, as black as the void around it. On each Solar panel, the white Corsair Skull and bones could be seen. Gallion relaxed and smiled. To the astonishment of the Medical team that surrounded the gurney he laid upon.

The Welcome; Part Four

The Battle Stations klaxon sounded throughout Wraith space station and the Graf Spee. Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo rushed to the MediBay terminal and brought up a TacOps display. Near the Hadar9/Rinaal jump point he saw a sight that made him smile and laugh to himself. A MR-15 transport ship was playing tag with an unknown Insurgent vessel. Gweedo counted to himself ÔÇª two ÔÇª three times the craft collided with each other. After the third collision, a mini super nova was created as the MR-15 exploded, sending the Insurgent vessel careening uncontrolled through space at over 50,000km per second. Slowly, ever so slowly, the unknown Insurgent vessel began to fade from visual scanners as its cloaking field was reestablishing its integrity. Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo turned off the TacOps display. Nothing to worry about. The Insurgent vessel would hightail it out of the Rinaal system if and when the crew regained control if the speeding craft. Motioning to GnySgt York to follow him, Gweedo headed towards the main airlock. He had a meeting to attend, one that he was not looking forward to, with Commander Tac.

The DaeÔÇÖmar; Part Five

An evil grin appeared on GallionÔÇÖs face as he saw the Black Galactan Class Battlecruiser approach the unknown star station. Weapon systems were activated and the BattlecruiserÔÇÖs presence was undetected by the unknown station suspended in the black void of space. In the target display, Gallion could barely make out the stationÔÇÖs designation and name ÔÇª ÔÇ£CID ÔÇª ÔÇ£.

(/rp)

My part is complete in this thread. Stay tuned for the further mis-adventures of the Galloping Corsair. DeSylva and Tac ÔÇô I suggest that each of you coordinate the IFF code snafu with each other. I opened TacÔÇÖs plot inadvertently during the Gam War threads and have also opened DeSylvaÔÇÖs plot in this thread. Personally, I like DeSylvaÔÇÖs take on the IFF plot.

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

Cmdr Gallion

GCV-Graf Spee, Corsair Wing

Wraith Fleet

[This message has been edited by Gallion (edited 03-14-99).]

Charles Lindsey · March 15, 1999

The Graf Spee slowly faded from the Tacsan. But not before Don hill had gotten a lock on her. "They're headed towards the Khan jumpgate sir," he reported.

"Headed home then, good. Easier to track. Lay in a course for Rinaal but keep your distance. Let them have time to maneuver. Wouldn't want to go knocking on their door." They slowly powered up the engines before the jump to the Khan jumpgate. When the flashes signifying use of the jumpgates began they jumped. Several seconds passed while they were transported thru the hole in hyperspace.

The last of the flashes subsided and Chavik ordered them to pass thru the jumpgate. They burned thru the jumpgate and then came to a halt. Everything was quiet then suddenly several jump anomalies formed at the extreme edge of vision. Though tiny that particular halo pattern was unmistakable.

Chavik smiled as the Mark2 followed suit. Five times they did this on the route to Rinaal. It was becoming a dance. A deadly dance but a dance nonetheless. One misstep and they would be waltzing with the Grim Reaper.

Once in Rinaal the MArk2 came to a halt and Mr. Hill began taking note of the ships and the station. Suddenly there came a dull thud and the Mark2 began spinning crazily. It was almost to much for the Guardian shield to compensate for. "Get us out!" screamed Commander Woods.

"I'm trying sir, she not responding fast enough," reported Jeff Myers the Flight offficer quickly followed by another thud.

Another thud and Chavik spoke loudly, "Retros now or we'll all be toast!" Mr. Myers punched in the retro rockets and slowly the Mark2 began pulling away. Things looked fine until the MRT-15 went up in a blaze of glory. While saved from the inital blast the shockwave caught them and sent them spinning again. This time through the system at over 50,000 KMS. Again the Guardian shield had trouble and they all went flying as it was knocked out momentarily. It quickly re-established itself and everyone landed at about .75g. Thank goodness for small favors Chavik thought.

Chief Engineer Larry Black came onto the commlink with blood running down his face. "Sirs, we have trouble; the shields are damaged, the cloaking system is damaged, the engines are damaged, Cargo bay 1 is damaged..."

"What about the Hull?" interrupted Chavik.

"It's heavy but localized to the blast area sir, she'll hold together with some luck," said Mr Black.

"Get those shields back online, Mr. Black," said Commander Woods.

"Belay that order, Mr Black. At least until Mr.Woods explains to me what he is thinking?"

Commander Woods paled visibly. Damn hard for a shopkeep he thought. "Um Sh, uh, sir, wouldn't it be advisable to get shields online and the engines too for that matter? We must defend ourselves and get back to Spectre with the info we have. "

"And in any other circumstance I would agree with you. But with all this firepower around we would need the shields that station out there has to even get a fighting chance. Which we don't and won't. Why run when we can hide? Mr Black, how bad is the cloaking system?"

"Pretty bad sir, 80% integrity but a key system is toast. We're goners," he moaned.

"Get a crew on it immediately, we'll be down shortly," said Chavik. A mere minute had passed since the explosion to Chavik's closing of the comms channel. They were flying across the system at a good clip and with a little luck might even reach nullspace. But best not to count on that. "Follow me Commander Woods," Chavik said as he headed towards the cloaking system.

"You have the bridge Mr. Myers, try to get attitude control back but don't bleed off too much speed. Right now we are faster than probes even. I want that advantage," Commander Woods said as he left the bridge with Chavik. Chavik patted him on the back and Commander Woods grinned, "Run while we can sir."

"That was a good call Woods," said Chavik as they sprinted towards the cloaking system. He left off as the burst of energy began to consume him. Damn young ones he thought.

"Thank you sir," said Woods as they ran alongside each other. Old guy isn't too bad a runner. Sheesh, I'll be his age in ten years. Mental note; Continue endurance training.

They slid into the cloaking room together. Woods was breathing hard but Chavik had an obvious stich in his side. Mr. Black looked back and forth between them when Chavik waved him on. "Well sirs, she's toast. Most parts are operational but the AI Interface is shot. this baby ian't gonna do anything for awhile."

"Navitron," gasped Chavik.

"Sir?" asked Mr. Black.

"The Navitrons, get it now!" Chavik shouted as he fell to his knees.

Commander Woods pointed to a systems engineer and with a nod of his sent him to get the Navitron compuuter's AI interface. Another minute had passed on their way to the cloaking room. Woods helped Chavik to his feet. Another minute and the Systems engineer was back with the part. Chavik was visibly better. "Install it," said Chavik. Mr Black looked at him blankly. Chavik straightened with an effort and betwwen gasped said, "Mr. Black, In case you are not aware I was chief engineer on the Lanyard. We need a cloaking system and now we shall have one if you will hurry up and install the bloody part!"

Mr. Black handed the part to his system engineers and within seconds they had it installed. When they turned it back on it gave an unsatisfied groan and a few clicks from internal breakers tripping and resetting while it rerouted power but quickly settled into something close to it's operational status. "Are we cloaked yet?" asked Chavik.

"Not yet sir, the ai interface is still geting info and interlacing it with the cloak field. It should happen in 4, 3, 2, 1 we are now cloaked," said Mr. Black.

"Good, Chavik to bridge, Mr Myers, regain control of hte craft if you will and Mr. Hill try to scope us out a spot to lick our wounds a bit."

Ayes came thru the commlink and Chavik could feel the ship righting itself. Somehow he knew they were fully cloaked. So the dance isn't over after all, he thought.

Commander Chavik

ICV Mark2 (High Muckety muck in charge)

Timothy Woods

ICV Marks2

"I think I spilled my groceries"

March 16, 1999

*RP*

Wraith HQ was in a frenzy. Engineers were rushing about the Launch Bay, Marines and Medics exploding from the military and medical areas of the station...all headed towards docking bay 13.

Tac didn't want to think how many people had been lost on this as-yet-unexplained delayed return of the Corsair Wing. Of one thing he was certain: He was not going to like it.

The status of Corsair Wing flashed on his holoscreen. More than 60% losses. The status report was signed by Lt Cmdr. Gweedo, not by Gallion. That had him very worried.He summoned a commlink menu. The face of a young lieutenant materialized.

"Yes Commander"

"Have Cmdr. Gallion or whoever's in charge of Corsair Wing to meet me here lieutenant, on the double."

"Will do Commander" The face faded out.

Klaxons wailed through the station as Tac was beggining to raise from his seat.

"What the hell is going on now?" he swore out loud.His commlink screamed into existence:

"Unidentified vessel has collided with a transport Commander, it is spinning out of control... identifying...INSURGENT GALACTAN BC, no name on record! The transport.. its.."

The flash of light that inundated Tac's office finished the sentence for the Station's Tactical Officer.

-Dammit-

"Launch fighters, divert all noncombatant vessels to the planet, get them away from us..." Tac's mind scrambled through the list of avaliable ships in the area... Hell Hound and Delta Wing were still docked inside the Station...but he could'nt risk revealing the location of his vessels... and then a name emerged "Launch the ARDENT. Order it to escort the civilian vessels to the planet. Defend them at all costs. Prepare Delta Wing for Station Defense. Hell Hounds on backup duty."

"Aye sir!" replied the Tactical Officer.

Tac once again sat down on his office and opened the TacOps display.

He saw the debris of the MRT transport float away as the ship that had killed it faded out of existence as it resumed its cloak.

Wraith Fighters swarmed out of the starstation, searching for prey like angry hornets. They wouldn't be of much use against a cloaked force..of unknown numbers.

Whoever it was, they chose the wrong place to play hide and seek..they chose the wrong people to do it with too.Wraith HQ was prepared to deal with cloaked foes.

"Tactical: Initiate "The Net" station defense procedure."

The TacOps display exploded in activity. The station's energy weapons began to fire in all directions at random, the fighter force broke in 2, one flight heading for the wormholes and jump points in the region, the other flew out of the station's PTA range and began to circle the station, firing their lasers in random directions. "The Net" was formed.

The old GCV Ardent steamed away, herding the half a dozen civilian ships that were in the area, its Interceptors circled the Ardent, eternally vigilant.

A figure entered Tac's office, his profile sillhueted against the red-white lights of battle stations.

It was not Gallion he noticed... but wore the badge of the Corsair. The Jolly Rodger shone on the man's breast. It was not Gallion.

Tac waited for the man to speak.On the back of his head the thought still looped endlessly. It was not Gallion.

*/rp*

De Sylva has the right of way on the IFF plot. He can make the stuff better than I would ever be capable of anyway :-).

Gallion: The Jolly Rodger is on the flagpost again! *G*

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

Fleet Leader

Daniel "Tac" Londono

GCV Usagi (Wraith Flagship)

Hell Hound Wing Commander

=Wraith Fleet=

"Hard,Fast, Furious...FIRST!"

"The World is tired of Words.It wants Examples"-Shoghi Effendi

[This message has been edited by Tac (edited 03-15-99).]

Gallion · March 16, 1999

Well, Tac failed to contact me so he will have to live with what I post ... the horror

[This message has been edited by Gallion (edited 03-17-99).]

Charles Lindsey · March 16, 1999

Chavik had finally gotten his breath back as the ship was cloaking. He was still panting but coherent. "Are we cloaked yet?" he said.

"Yes sir," replied Chief Engineer Black.

"Fully Cloaked?"

"Yes sir, definitely sir," replied Mr. Black.

"Good; Mr. Myers have you gotten attitude control back yet?"

"Yes sir," replied Mr. Myers.

"Speed?"

"45,000 KPS and holding sir."

"Very good, launch a probe."

"A probe sir?" replied Mr. Hill.

"Yes a probe," said Chavik. "It will give them something to play with."

Just as Chavik ordered the probe launched Wraith began launching ships. They went to the two jump points in the region but the Mark2's speed had already carried them far away. "Mr. Myers, what is our current vector?"

"Straight towards Wraith sir."

"Mr. Hill; in addition to the probe launch a few crabs. Correct for orbit then vector off Mr. Myers. Once the probe is off Mr. Hill set the probe to reach the Den. Encode message, "looking around need more eyes".

"Aye sir," was the reply from two officers.

Timothy Woods simply stared at Chavik. Chavik looked at him and grinned. "Run while you can," he said, "fight when you must."

They headed back to the bridge. It took several minutes of general walking but when the made it Chavik said, "Mr. Myers, if you would correct course to this point i think we will be ok for awhile."

Mr. Myers grinned. It bled of a lot of speed but they were already far past any point a ship could reasonbly make. No one would notice a cloaked MK2 making this maneuver.

[rp] OFF

Commander Chavik

ICV Mark2 (High Muckety Muck in charge)

Timothy Woods

ICV Mark2

"I'm learning to shop"

March 16, 1999

"Well, Tac failed to contact me so he will have to live with what I post ... the horror "

Aye, the hairs on the back of my neck are standing up now hehe.I think this is poetic justice.. the CIC has to cope with me, and I have to cope with YOU. LOL

*rp*

The man waited for a moment, hestitant to speak for some unknown reason.

The Station's commlink burst with renewed activity.

"Probe detected! All turrets fire at the general area!"

"Interceptors IC10 and IC11 move to intercept probe"

As the fireworks display spat out of Wraith HQ, Tac stared at the TacOps display, watching for any indication of a lucky hit that would temporarily decloak the Insurgent craft.

Suddenly, a ripple in space cought his attention.A probe materialized from the nether, and the shadow of a Galactan faded into the background.

"Ardent reports no activity yet on its area"

"COMMANDER! That probe's initial vector was towards us! Recommend we launch cruisers" Mia Kurazawa's voice cut in over the commlink chatter.

"Agreed, Station: Launch 4 Starcruisers, inline formation towards last known vector. All guns on foward firing mode."

"Cruisers launching Commander!".

Tac glanced at the man and waved his hand, motioning for him to take a seat.

*/rp*

Did you launch the mines or not? Launching that probe and (probably) the mines are almost a dead giveaway of your location and speed Chavik.You're not against an AI opponent remember? *G*.

Gallion: that officer of yours has been waiting long enough in that door dontcha think?.

Gallion · March 17, 1999

Just wanted to give you a chance to have a say in what is gonna happen Tac. And now ÔÇª the rest of the storyÔÇª

(RP)

The Welcome; Part Five

Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo was not a happy camper. He should be with the Graf Spee, supervising the refit and repair of the Galactan Class Battlecruiser, not standing in the doorway of the Wraith Fleet Leader, Commander Tac. Both men looked each other at a loss. Neither expected what each saw. Commander Tac was expecting the Corsair Wing leader, Commander Gallion, who was currently convalescing within the stationÔÇÖs medical facility. Lt. Cmdr Gweedo was expecting more than what he saw. He had never met man responsible for both the creation and location of Wraith Fleet. The little man Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo saw standing behind an issue desk with his hands placed on the desk was not what he expected. Imagination is destroyed when faced with reality. A reality that Gweedo had to return to when he remembered why he was here and to whom he was dealing with.

ÔÇ£Lt. Cmdr Gweedo, GCV Graf Spee Acting Commander, reporting SIR!ÔÇØ he said when his wits came back to him. GweedoÔÇÖs academy drill would be proud on the perfect salute rendered to Commander Tac.

Commander Tac did nothing at first. He made the Graf SpeeÔÇÖs acting commander sweat as he took his timing returning Lt. Cmdr.ÔÇÖs salute. ÔÇ£At ease, Gweedo, report!ÔÇØ

Lt. Cmdr Gweedo was about to begin his report to Commander Tac when the stationÔÇÖs tactical officerÔÇÖs voice boomed over the stateroomÔÇÖs intercomÔÇª

The Awakening; Part One

Gunny York stood next to his commanderÔÇÖs bed in the stationÔÇÖs medical facility watching Gallion lying in the gurney. The readings on the life support equipment monitoring the Corsair Wing leader were normal. Even to the untrained eye of GnySgt York, Senior Marine assigned to the GCV Graf Spee. York stood and watched, watched and stood as the monitors went beep, beep, beep to the rhythm of GallionÔÇÖs pulse and breaths.

Gunny York shook his head slightly as he bowed his head and turned away from GallionÔÇÖs gurney. He turn so as not to have to see the bed-ridden Corsair and to leave his commanderÔÇÖs side. Just as York took his first step away from GallionÔÇÖs bedside; the rhythmic beep of the life monitoring equipment ceased. The crusty old Marine stopped in his tracks and spun back towards GallionÔÇÖs gurney and halted in his tracks. He could not believe his eyes. The worried look that has been haunting the Marine since leaving Spectre left YorkÔÇÖs eyes and face. Replaced with confidence and joy as he assumed the ancient tradition of the NCO Corps when their CommanderÔÇª

The Welcome; Part Six

The two Marines standing guard at door of Commander TacÔÇÖs stateroom were shoved aside by the crusty old Graf Spee Marine, GnySgt York, after they took to long in allowing access to the entry hatch. York activated the stateroomÔÇÖs entry hatch controls, stepped aside, and assumed a guard position in front of the hatch in the hallway. The hatchÔÇÖs door closed. To a passerby, the crusty old MarineÔÇÖs expression was enough to stifle any question or comment on just what occurred.

The Fix; Part One

Lt. Cmdr, Scott almost choked on the coffee he had just started to sip when he read the incoming message he had just received from Wraith-HQ space station and let out a yell of joy that startled the engineer crew members that were near. Scott could not believe what he was reading but he liked the concept and rushed to the Graf SpeeÔÇÖs research lab. They had a special coating to fabricate and apply; and only three days to complete this bodacious task.

The Welcome; Part Seven

Commander Tac was in the middle of fighting an unknown vessel and berating an acting commander when he choked on the tirade he was about to unleash on the unsuspecting Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo. The cause of this interruption was the unexpected and unauthorized entry of someone into his command stateroom. Commander Tac was about to unleash a new tirade on the person that had the audacity to enter his inner-sanctum when he saw who was the cause. Commander Tac just stood behind his desk with his mouth open so wide, an Aestrom couldÔÇÖve landed under manual control. Commander Tac eyes blinked as he tried, in vai, to regain his command composure. The silence was broken when the unknown intruder spoke to Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo.

ÔÇ£Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo, you are relieved of command are assigned to your former duties. Return to the Graf Spee and give Mr. Scott any and all assistance that he may required.ÔÇØ

Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo snapped to attention, executed an about face, saluted the unknown intruder, and departed the Wraith Command Stateroom. When he exited the stateroom he stopped and grinned at the crusty old Marine that was guarding the staterooms entry hatch. The expression on the crusty old MarineÔÇÖs face did not change but the look in GnySgt YorkÔÇÖs eyes said what a million words could not say to Lt. Cmdr Gweedo. Gweedo turned and headed towards Docking Bay 13, slowly at first, then at a double time.

The Fix; Part Two

Mr. Scott and the Graf SpeeÔÇÖs Research Engineer, Lt. Cmdr. LeFevre, were looking at their mission brief and contemplating how to accomplish it. The mission was simple; paint the Graf Spee the darkest black as possible. The hard part was to incorporate the rest of the mission. The paint had to absorb all known scanner signals and reduce the scanner signature of the Galactan Class Battlecruiser to next to nil. Both engineers were searching and scanning the Galcom databases for any and all information. Their search was difficult and results were next to nil. It seems that they did not have the appropriate security codes to access certain ISS databases. Each search resulted in the same computer response: ACCESS DENIED

The Welcome; Part Eight

Commander Tac somehow managed to regain his composure but not his command composure. He was still taken aback from both the unauthorized entrance into his command stateroom and his current guest. All he could do was stare at his guest and fall into his chair. Meanwhile, the guest calmly walked to the holovid controls, input some simple commands, and turned towards the still quasi-dumb founded Wraith Fleet Leader. The guest waited a few minutes before he began. In a monotone, command brief, just-the-facts manner, Commander Gallion briefed his commanding officer on Corsair WingÔÇÖs engagements, mis-engagements, and actions since being deployed to Gammulan space so many weeks ago.

The Fix; Part Three

Persistence rewards those that are persistent was the old adageÔÇªat least that is what Mr. Scott thought as Lt. Cmdr. LeFevre access the previously inaccessible data files. Both of the Graf SpeeÔÇÖs senior engineers looked at each other and smiled. They had hit the mother load. Quickly, they downloaded the necessary files. After both Scott and LeFevre agreed on the BOM, they sent it to the mission commander, and waited for a response.

The Welcome; Part Nine

When Commander GallionÔÇÖs briefing to Commander Tac reached the part where he entered Spectre Star Station, he stopped; made some adjustments on the holovid controls and waited for the information displayed to sick in. Commander Tac contemplated the holovid display; a red circle extended for several light years around a single point in space. The point was the star system the was home to the Insurgency. Gallion continued with his monologue, ÔÇ£In my opinion, neither the Insurgency or the Insurgency Command could not be held responsible for the IFF Module sabotage. They were fighting in Sol system along side Galcom forces, killing Gams and being killed by them. This is circumstantial evidence, but enough to point the finger at the Insurgency.ÔÇØ

Commander Tac said nothing, he looked at the holovid display and at Commander Gallion. For the first time he noticed something strange about the Corsair Wing leader. GallionÔÇÖs uniform was pressed, insignia was in its proper place, but his collar was a bit high on the neck. Just a speck of white showed above Commander GallionÔÇÖs collar, the white of a wound dressing.

ÔÇ£What do you think we meaning Wraith Fleet should do Gallion?ÔÇØ Commander Tac. Gallion took a deep breath and faced his estranged commander. ÔÇ£Here is a Bill of Materials I need to refit and repair the Graf Spee. One ship stands a better chance in tracking down whoever is responsible then a Fleet. Galcom Command cannot be notified because they may be infiltrated. Just as I thought Wraith-HQ was.ÔÇØ Tac looked at the BOM that Gallion handed him and just about shite a brick. Many items on this list were both classified and expensive. Tac looked at Gallion and yelled, ÔÇ£How did you get thisÔÇªÔÇØ

Gallion was expecting such a response from the sometimes emotion Fleet Leader and calmly replied, ÔÇ£How I received this list is unimportant, what is important is that it takes Level 5 access to authorize its release. An authorization that you can authorize Commander.ÔÇØ Gallion leered at the bewildered Wraith Fleet Leader and waitedÔÇªand waited.. Finally he could wait no more, ÔÇ£what will it be Commander? Do you feel lucky? I do, I need that material. I cannot fly around in that area of space on Iridium the whole time. If you are worried about the galcreds, I have more than enough toÔÇªÔÇØ

ÔÇ£Enough!ÔÇØ Tac shouted, ÔÇ£you and your activities are a thorn in my side Gallion. Do you know how much explaining I had to do just to keep you from a court-martial? You nuke Gammula without Galcom authorization, detain and board a Galcom vessel without any explanation or so much as a thank you, youÔÇªÔÇØ

Commander Gallion had heard it all before and it took all his will power to stifle a yawn. Suddenly he remembered and understood what the man known as Insurgent One was saying to him on Spectre. ÔÇ£Clam down Tac,ÔÇØ Gallion said, ÔÇ£we both knew that this would happened. As a matter of fact, Galcom gave you a heads up before they assigned me to this rust-bucket. Now, back to the issue of materials. Will you authorize the requisition?ÔÇØ

Commander Tac was taken aback by the subtle brashness displayed by Commander Gallion. He remembered both GalcomÔÇÖs heads up and why he assigned Gallion to Corsair Wing and made him the WingÔÇÖs leader. ÔÇ£Request is authorized,ÔÇØ Tac said as he thumb printed his stamp of approval on the datapad before he tossed it to Gallion. Gallion caught the datapad and smiled.

The Fix; Part Four

Both Lt. Cmdrs. Scott and LeFevre danced about the duty station terminal when then Request Authorized displayed on their terminalÔÇÖs screen. ETA was three hours for the material. Mr. Scott started a task listing and Mr. LeFevre began calculating the paintÔÇÖs formula. When Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo entered the Graf SpeeÔÇÖs research lab, Mr. Scott handed him a datapad. Gweedo looked at the datapad and smiled. This was going to be good. The Graf Spee would be painted with a scanner absorbing, signature reducing jet ebony black compound. On each Solar panel, the skull and crossed bones of the ancient Jolly Roger would be painted in a brilliant White. The white paintÔÇÖs brilliance could be dimmed or brightened via a dimmer located on the Graf SpeeÔÇÖs command chair. Gweedo smiled and chuckled to himself. Gallion must have lost it now, either that or Commander Tac is just as crazy as Gallion is, he mused to no one in particular.

The Welcome; Part Ten

ÔÇ£This concludes my report to Commander Tac,ÔÇØ Gallion said, ÔÇ£award recommendations are enclosed with my approval. I will be ready to depart in three days. Any thing else Commander?ÔÇØ Commander Tac sat and contemplated his predicament, a predicament of his own making. Hopefully, he would not hang himself. ÔÇ£No Gallion, there is nothing else to be said that would amount to anything. How many ships will you be taking? Just the Graf Spee I presume?ÔÇØ Tac asked the grinning Corsair. ÔÇ£Just the Graf Spee Tac,ÔÇØ Gallion replied, ÔÇ£one ship and one ship only.ÔÇØ Neither one of the CommanderÔÇÖs spoke for several minutes. A mini-battle of wills was encoring between these two headstrong commanders. One was a rogue and maverick, the other was stuck behind a desk wishing that he could join in on the hunt. With a nod of his head, Tac dismissed Gallion. Gallion nodded in return and left the Wraith Command Stateroom.

When Gallion left TacÔÇÖs stateroom, Gunny York fell in step slightly behind his commander. Gallion turned his head slightly to his left and said, ÔÇ£Gunny, get with Lt. Cmdr. Gweedo, you have two days to get that Lt of yours in-line or he will be sucking vacuum on the third day. If he gives you any lip, kindly tell Resprick to report to me on the double. No heads up will be necessary. Also, I need ten marines to do thisÔÇªÔÇØ Gallion handed the crusty old Marine the datapad he was holding. York read what Gallion wanted to do and smiled, ÔÇ£ROE Sir?ÔÇØ ÔÇ£None Gunney,ÔÇØ Gallion replied. GnySgt York had a bit of a step in his already quick step as they neared Docking Bay 13. ÔÇ£No problem Sir,ÔÇØ Gunny York said, ÔÇ£no problem at all.ÔÇØ

Gallion smiled at the old Gunny as they both entered the airlock.

...remember...

(rp/)

This will be the last post I will be able to make for several weeks. I will post the Graf SpeeÔÇÖs refit, repair, and paint job progress report when I get settled into my new assignment. TTFN

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

Cmdr Gallion

GCV-Graf Spee, Corsair Wing

Wraith Fleet

[This message has been edited by Gallion (edited 03-16-99).]

Charles Lindsey · March 17, 1999

"Mother, give me an ETA to our destination," said Commander Chavik.

"Twenty two minutes," came the reply from the ship's main computer.

"Good. Mr. Black, get those engineers on the shields now, and the hull too. Time to get this ship back in shape now that we are safe for the moment." Chavik brought up tacops to see how his package was doing. The two mines were flying straight and true to Wraith. Chavik grinned. He knew they would do little damage even if they were dead on. But the massive scrambling of fighters needed something to play with. Chavik didn't fault them. If one ship could cloak thirty could. And if Mr. Hill had been paying attention they might have caught that trader coming upon them and avoided it.

They would be safe soon enough. Even after changing directions they were still travelling faster than any ship could. It was now time to dig in for repairs. One ship in a system would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Especially when that needle was out in the middle of space. He turned his attention to their destination. Nice little place he thought.

[RP] Off

LOL, yeah TAC I launched mines but see the body of the text. I corrected for orbit in the other post but forgot about the orbit of the planet itself. It was more of thumbing my nose gesture. or another gesture we won't mention. Two mines aren't gonna do anything to the station except pop like bubbles against the stations shield. Do what ya want to wiht them. Destroy them , let them pop, have them miss entirely, or even let them fly by and get a few shots in.

Now, I'm going faster than any ship is capable of doing. That is if we stick with the games top speed of 2250 (?). Not the AI speed. Which is what I'm doing now thanks to that explosion. I took all this into account before posting. Ever watched enemy fighters try to chase down one of your probes? {G} Even if you could get a lock on me you couldn't catch me.

I suppose the station's computer could extrapolate the three launches and figure out a course and use the mines speed after launch to calculate my speed. I took that into account too. But I have vectored off from that course and am long gone by now. Lasers and IOD's dissipate with distance so no lucky shots.

FYI: I started a new game and came out of the Hadar-9 jumpgate. I targeted Wraith and let the ship reach an AI speed of 27,000. Had to stop there because the hyperdrive was aobut to kick in. I then cut AI and flew at that speed to Wraith. took me 00:14:30 minutes. So just for fun figure I was going the original 50,000 Gallion posted I was over halway to Wraith when I launched using the time I posted to repair the cloak and get attitude control. Now I have vectored of. I'm long gone with nothing fo r you to lock onto.

As I said i'm just goofing off. I'll be gone shortly. But your character doesn't know that does he? I could be thirty ships cloaked.

March 18, 1999

Well, now that Gallion has made a fool of me I guess I shall have to stick him to permanent deep-space assignment *evil grin*.

(rp)

After the...unexpected appearance of Gallion and his usual brashness, Tac contemplated the TacOps display once more.

Wraith Fighters were closing in on the probe, there wasn't much of a chance of them reaching it, probes were designed without taking a pilot into account.It didnt matter anyway, the Fighters deployed in the jump gates and wormholes would stop it before it could jump.The mines were the least of his problems, the station's PTA would shoot them down for sure... his problem was the amount of insurgent vessels he may have in the region.

The commlink chatter continued in the background:

"Cruisers report no impacts, they are turning about for another sweep."

"Ardent reports all civilian trafic is orbiting the planet.No contacts"

Tac's mind wandered from the current situation. Gallion's report was disturbing indeed. IF Gallion didn't get himself killed and the Wraith Fleet nailed by Galcom for his actions, he couldn't think of a better person to send out to seek a ghost around the galaxy.

On his desk lay 2 datapads containing the logistics and resources that would be allocated to the 2 new Wraith Wings that awaited deployment. All he needed was someone to lead them.Tac hoped he could avoid getting another Gallion... he was now on the verge of insanity with just one.

The TacOps display flashed as one of the mines detonated. Tac snapped out and lazily touched the comms control.

"Tactical: have the cruisers break off and head for the jump points, order them to mine the place and stay on patrol"

"Aye sir"

The Insurgency wouldn't be stupid enough to attack a Fleet starstation. Especially one that far away from their space.

"Mrs. Kurazawa, handle the engagement. Call me if the whole insurgent fleet decloaks.Tac out"

"...Aye...sir.." responded the nervous officer. It would be her first battle command...and she had the power of the whole Wraith Fleet on her fingertips.

Tac fiddled with the datapads. Things were happening too fast, the Fleet was too young. He must deploy it quickly if it is to have a chance. The current situation was exactly what Tac had been trying to avoid.. all his assets in one place. Time to burst open and leave the nest.

He began to scan the roster and crew stats of his fleet, trying to decide which ones would be better off in the new Wings.The Starstation also needed trade to remain stocked...he had sent an invitation to the IFTCC a while ago. No response yet.

Damn he hated desk jobs. Once the Wings are off and the training camps established he would be free to re-join the void and its eternal silence.

Another flash lit the TacOps screen..and his window. The second mine had been accounted for. He turned off the TacOps display and stared into the datapads.

(/rp)

14 minutes? yikes. I wonder what speed would give us a 2 or 3 minute cruise trip from one nav point to another? Hmmm.

[This message has been edited by Tac (edited 03-17-99).]

Charles Lindsey · March 18, 1999

The Mark2 had reached its destination. "We are running low on Iridium," reported Mr. Black.

"I thought this bird had the usual triple stores. What happened?" asked Chavik.

"The damage to the cloaking system caused it to use much more fuel than normal when it was trying to re-establish the fiel," replied Mr. Black.

"Did we emit any tachyons?"

"No sir, none detected. Simply high fuel usage."

"How much time have we got left?" asked Chavik.

"About 50 minutes sir."

"Good thing we are here. Mr. Chandler, have some of your marines unload the drones. Mr. Black, transport them to the surface. I don't want any launches breaking our cloak field Make sure the engineers have their assgnments then go to medibay and see aobut that cut. It doesn't look very nice." Mr. Black started and wiped his face. Several flakes of dried blood fell off.

"Aye sir," came the reply as he turned off the commlink.

"Watch those drones. It will be dicey for awhile till we can get some more iridium stored up. I'll be in my quarters, Inform me if anything happens."

[RP] Off.

Does a probe fly at AI speed thru a jumpgate or does it slow down like when it's on patrol? I've never paid attention. *Sigh* more research. *G*. But I do know they are tough little suckers. Plus small and hard to hit. I currently have a probe flying around at 38% integrity. Guess the bad guys gave up. Now hte one is Arima was another story. It didn't last very long. Probably only two circuits around the system . Oh well.

March 18, 1999

That's weird.. in my experience my probes never last long when they hit a nav point that has hostiles... I think it slows down to turn or something and that's where it usually gets shot.

That's why we have Galcom HQ though, just order a fighter from there to defend the probe *evil grin*. That way you got forces throught your "viewable" regions. I once had an IC from Orion escort a probe for a long time..and it did help quite a lot of transports and diplomats survive attacks.

Now I wonder if you get the EP's gained from a kill from ships you command through fleet C&C.Never checked that out before... now I got something to do.!

Charles Lindsey · March 20, 1999

"So what do you think of him now?" asked Jhoanna Hayes.

"I'm not sure," said commadner Timothy Woods, "I know he can run like the devil."

"What's the matter? A little out of shape after graduation?"

"I'm in great shape! It's just that I never expected him to be able to do that," said Commander Woods.

"And the other things? He sure botched my Navitron computer up."

"At least we're cloaked." retorted Commander Woods.

A sly smile played over Jhoanna's face. I really shouldn't dig so much, she thought, but darn it he can be so stubborn. "Well that's true, but how are we going to get home without that? We can only stay cloaked for so long."

"Thanks for reminding me Ms. Hayes. Mr. Hill, how are the mining drones coming along?"

"Drones 2 and 4 are 30% full and drones 1 and 3 are 26% full," said Mr. Hill.

"Bring 2 and 4 back on board and let's see how they are doing."

"Aye sir," said Mr. Hill as he operated the transporter controls. "Moving drones back into shuttles now," he said. "Shuttles extracting minerals," he continued after a moment. "Checking cargo. We now have enough iridium for two more hours of cloaking."

"Good, transfer to the storage tanks and continue operations. I want enough for a good long while. "

"Not trying to set up a store are you Tim?" asked Jhoanna.

Timothy Woods just ignored her and continued directing the placement of the drones. He orderd all drones to converge on the area that 2 and 4 had been in. It was on obviously rich source of Iridium. At least rich enough for their purposes.

_____________________________

Commander Chavik sat in his quarters reviewing personnel records. The whole crew had good ones. Jeff Myers Flight Officer; third in his class. Jhoanna Hayes; Navigation officer, fifth in her class and co-graduate of Timothy Woods. All of them had graduated in the top 4% of their class. Good crew, damn good crew. Woods was a wildcard though. He'd have to watch him as he had already found out. He still had the datapad in his hands when he drifted off to sleep.

_________________________________

"I can get you your Navitron Part Jhoanna," said Commander Woods.

"What?" she asked. "How?"

"We'll send some marines over to Wraith and get them for you," he said.

"I'll inform Commander Chavik," said Comma officer Tidwell.

"Oh no you won't," said Caommander Woods. "He put himself off duty and I'm in charge now."

"But sir," began Mr. Tidwell.

"No buts about it. I'm in charge. Ms. Chandler, please send a contingent of marines to the transporter room."

"Aye sir."

__________________________________________

Chavik had nodded off. The datapad lay on the floor slightly illuminating everything above it. had Chavik been able to look down he would have seen the last sentence of Timothy Woods Profile. The last click had been made as it slipped out of his fingers. It read: [heading] Timothy Woods [heading], [last line of text] Prone to making brash decisions.[last line of text]

[RP] Off

Commander Chavik

ICV Mark2

Commander Timothy Woods

ICV Mark2

"Going Shopping"

Yeah if a region is generally hostile to you the four fighter patrol is going to go after the only threat in the region. Namely your probe. But depending on the jumppoints it must visit I find they last a fairly long time. A probe in a hostile region will get destroyed eventually but a probe in a neutral region with bad guys chasing it may last quite a long time. Thus appears my 38% probe. The bad guys got tired of chasing it or got destroyed themselves.

No ship can catch a probe until it hesitates at a jump point. Should I re-program my probe to PATROL or leet it die off? *BEG*

[This message has been edited by Charles Lindsey (edited 03-20-99).]

March 20, 1999

Well, it's been a while since I got involved with this, so I apologise if this is a long post. I also apologise for putting words in the mouths of both Gallion and Tac - this was a spur of the moment thing, so I hope you don't mind.

[RP]

The insistent beeping of the commlink unit on his desk roused DeSylva from his thoughts. He had been staring at a starmap of Sol and the surrounding systems. The ISS was growing, and with the new Commanders and their craft, it had come time to review their placement.

He shook his head to clear it, before flicking the commlink switch. The incoming message popped up on his desk terminal. The smiling face of Commander Daniel "Tac" Londono greeted him, but behind the smile was something else - a ghost of worry, or exhaustion.

Tac paused a minute, before beginning his message.

quote:

"Hi DeSylva - long time, no chat. Look, I need your help here buddy. I have a list of requisitions that desperately need filling. It's high-priced and sensitive stuff, and I wouldn't have a snowball's chance in hell of ever getting it approved from way out here, especially considering that it's for Commander Gallion and Corsair Wing. Normally I wouldn't ask something like this, but it's urgent - I need this stuff yesterday. I'd dearly love to tell you what it's for, but I can't. I just need your help here."

"Let's just say that it's the kind of thing you'd love - conspiracies and such-like. And our prodigal brothers and sisters out in Credian space are in the story as well. The kind of stuff that a nice, easy going Commander of an underfunded fleet doesn't need right now. I'm hoping you'll come through on this, old friend. See you later, Commander."

Following was a data readout of the equipment that Tac was requesting. DeSylva's jaw dropped, and he held his breath as some of the more unusual items showed up. His shoulders slumped. There was no way he'd be able to get this kind of stuff approved.

Not unless it was worth it, anyway.

He leaned back in his chair, thinking for a moment, before reaching forward to tap an ID code into the commlink computer. There were a few seconds of silence, before the message "Busy" appeared on the screen. DeSylva sighed, before tapping out a brief message, and flagging it as urgent. Pressing the "send" button, he turned back to his work...

Several hours later, and the fleet deployment was looking a lot more healthy. The ISS was still, in many peoples' eyes, a fledgling fleet. Event though they had grown since their beginnings, they had grown more slowly than the other fleets. DeSylva had flatly refused to have Commanders and ships assigned to the fleet. Their fleet was so varied and disparate that he knew they had to have one thing in common, and that thing was belonging to a team. Any commander reluctant to be there, who disrupted that team, would jeopardise the entire fleet. But they _were_ growing. Their minesweepers, under the command of Commander C. G. Bader, had seen plenty of action since the Gammulan war. Commander Dresnig's border patrollers were doing well, too, showing their EarthCOM and Terran Police counterparts a thing or two. Certainly, their zealousness in hunting down Raiders had cause some minor diplomatic headaches, but that was nothing that GALCOM's diplomatic services couldn't handle.

The commlink began it's beeping again. DeSylva took a deep breath, before straightening his collar, and reaching forward to accept the call. A youthful, nondescript face sprung forth in three dimensions on the commlink projector. The owner of the face saluted.

"Lieutenant Commander Henrison reporting for duty, sir."

DeSylva nodded. "At east, Henrison. Did you get the information I asked for?"

Henrison nodded. "Well, it was hard getting time off - Corsair Wing has just docked here and Engineering is pretty busy getting them spaceworthy again - but I managed to access Commanbder Londono's logs and get the information you needed. I'm transmitting it now."

A tiny button lit up on the touchscreen of the desk terminal. DeSylva reached forward and tapped it, and the log of Commander Daniel Londono appeared before him.

DeSylva scanned quickly - he had always been a quick reader. He absorbed the information, until he came to the meeting between Gallion and Londono. Hewre, he slowed down, taking it all in, before sighing, and turning to the screen again.

"Excellent work, Henrison. I'd commend you for this, had we been targetting the enemy."

Henrison nodded. A slight cloud seemed to pass over his face. "Sir - are you sure this is safe?"

DeSylva's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Commander Londono isn't exactly forgiving about breaches to his personal privacy, if you get what I mean."

DeSylva nodded, and smiled wryly. "Let's just say my professional curiosity was piqued. Don't worry - I don't like this any more than you do. I wasn't cut out for intelligence - I have a conscience. I'll take care of it. Expect some shore leave soon."

Henrison nodded. "Very well sir. Henrison out."

DeSylva saluted, and then closed the connection.

He scrolled back through the log files, reading the encounter between Gallion and Tac through again. It made an interesting read. Gallion, walking through the halls of Spectre HQ itself? Speaking to Rattler? And now some other group, some other target, that had managed to intercept a completely secure GALCOM transmission and interfere with completely secure IFF data...? This was serious indeed. What kind of enemy wanted to sabotage Terra's efforts during the war?

He looked at the data Gallion had given Commander Londono. Well, it wasn't the Gammulans - they still didn't have any holdings in that particular area of space. The Zelons? Why on Earth would they want the Gammulans to win? Less Terrans meant less trade. The Credians? Sure, they weren't exactly friendly towards Terrans, but they respected our territorial rights, and Terrans respected theirs. No, they'd have to be pretty sure of themselves to buy into the Gammulan alliance. Besides, Credians were so damn self-reliant and wary of aid from other races, it was hard to see them allying with anyone at all.

Deep down, DeSylva suspected that the truth was that it had been no other race - but the Terrans. There were a few Terran outposts out there, set up on agreement with the Credians. Besides, what other race would have had any chance of infiltrating Terran IFF registries to get the appropriate codes to break the transmission, implant the virus, and resend it? No. It had to be Terrans. And Terrans who weren't Insurgents.

DeSylva stumbled across one other interesting tidbit towards the end of their discussion. Commander Londono, looking at Gallion's injuries, asking where they had come from. Gallions reply:

quote:

Isn't it amazing? Did you know, they have a Dark Angel as well - just like us?

An Insurgent "dark angel"? That could only be one person he knew of. Akira.

So he was alive. Their little trip to Oz had been succesful. He hadn't heard from Rattler since the war, which meant that Vorne was still out there as well. He had had plenty of time to think about Akira's actions in the weeks since the war; plenty of time to consider the rights and wrongs of what he had done. And reluctantly, he had come to the conclusion that, right or wrong, what Akira had done had been - terrifyingly - appropriate. The thought was sobering - that the only way to protect Terran well-being had been to detonate nuclear weapons on their own race.

Deep down, to DeSylva, it said a lot about the essential nature of Humanity.

And so now Gallion was to hunt down these mysterious traitors, who had endangered his fleet.

Then DeSylva felt it. It was a feeling he had felt few times before. He had felt it the first time he had met Vorne, on his first assignment as a GALCOM Medical Officer. He had felt it again the time he looked at Pluto, at Gazer1, and knew there was something wrong. He had felt it the day he had entered Polaris and saw Commander Tringad, Commander Chavik, Commander Akira, and their invisible assailants. And he felt it again now. Whoever this group was, they were dangerous - that was what this feeling was telling him. And they were, perhaps, the key to the mystery that DeSylva was only beginning to discover, much less solve.

He turned back to his viewscreen. He had some requisitons to make.

Several hours later, and the work was done. Strings had been pulled, favours called in, and he was feeling fairly low in the popularity stakes. But Tac would get his supplies, and Gallion's Corsair would fly with new sails and new rigging. And still the feeling burned within him.

He turned back to his viewscreen, before contacting GALCOM Fleet Command. The familiar face of one of the Fleet Command ensigns greeted him. DeSylva put on his most charismatic smile, before beginning. "Ensign Trevenna - remember that leave request I told you to authorise for Lieutentant Commander Henrison, ID number 193757? Cancel it. I want him assigned to the GCV Graf Spee, as an engineer..."

As long as Gallion's quest was ordained by this feeling; as long as this journey was close to his heart - he'd keep him close to hand, as well.

[/RP]

Okay guys, there you go. Tac, you have your reqs, no harm from the GALCOM Quartermaster. Gallion, you have your new ship. BTW, neither of you have any knowledge that I happen to own Henrison - so don't act like you do. He's harmless, and I'm not going to do anything bad with him. Just consider him my insurance. And a good Flight Engineer, as well. As I said, your quest is pretty close to my heart. Want to know more? Wait for the role-play...*grin*.

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

Commander DeSylva

GCV First Light ISS01 -=- ISS Fleet Coordinator

www.geocities.com/TimesSquare/Arena/9206/iss/

Official BC3K Tester and Blind Man With Sleeves award winner

"Serve - with honour."

[This message has been edited by DeSylva (edited 03-20-99).]

March 20, 1999

Blockading Jumpgates is standard procedure buddy. Remember there aren't that many fighters per gate as to blow the probe in one pass. :-)

I may be gone for some days folks, so I authorize De Sylva to speak for me until the coming monday. Just keep my ships alive De Sylva :-)

March 24, 1999

{rp}

No one would ever know the demons existed. His mind was their playground. His soul was their food. But they weren't greedy. The demons had time on their side. Now or 100 years from now, it didn't matter. Sooner or later the demons would break him and he'd pay for his actions.

It won't be today, he decided. Akira grabbed the longer of the two swords and inspected its scabbard. It was exactly as his father had described. Akira closed his eyes and focused on the sword in his hands. In the quiet he could feel the slight pulse, the life of the sword singing to him.

A scientist would call the sensation hypersensitivity toward the natural magnetic field inherent in the metal. In layman's terms, he was simply feeling the ebb and flow of the magnetic field as it interacted with the iron in his blood. In part the scientist was right.

The sword did have a strange relationship with his blood. The sword's soul had known the blood of his family for countless generations. He sat on his knees quietly while the sword's energy purred like a cat. The soul of the sword spoke to his.

It pushed the demons back and Akira felt a peace. Yes, this was part of his inheritance, these swords. The beginning was here. The path of his life was now something more than just his honor. Something more than him following his convictions. He had a purpose. The first part of the prophecy had been fulfilled.

"Follow your convictions, my son," his father said calmly. "You have a destiny. It has been told to you all your life but destiny will take care of itself. Until then, all you have is your honor and the knowledge that you have taken action in support of what is right. Protect that honor, nurture it, and destiny or no, it will be there when you have nothing else. No matter what happens you will be able to hold your head high and know I am proud..."

Yes, destiny always took care of itself, he thought. Akira stood and placed the two blades next to each other on the black cloth. He carefully wrapped the swords and tied the two ends together with the length of rope coiled at the end of his bed. He hooked the package over his shoulder and took in his surroundings. Everything was sterile. White walls, white washed cabinets, white counter tops, white sheets, and white floor. Had it not been for the brushed steel on the frame of the bead, the chrome sink, and the green and red lights of the monitoring equipment, one would go white blind in this environment.

He wouldn't be going blind. The clean white and raw metal was cold and sterile. He wanted to leave this place quickly. The vast open blackness of space was where he belonged and it was time to return home. A slight twinge at the corner of his thoughts licked at him. One of the demons whispered of the freedom he'd experienced while he was hard wired to his ship. Not today, he thought.

The research scientists had made breakthroughs in reducing the addictive nature of the Command Chair system. At least that's what they told him. Their calm condescending voices were meant to reassure but instead were a slap in the face. No, he would trust himself in this and no one else. He had many hours of meditation ahead before he'd feel secure in his own self control enough to use that device again. It'd be best to have the Chief disable it, he thought.

"You shouldn't do anything rash," a serpentine voice spoke in his mind. The voice was similar to the others, but didn't quite come from the same place "There may be a time that you'll be forced," the whisper slithered between his ears, "to use the device to save yourself and your ship. No, it's best to leave it there in case you need it. But only when you need it..." the whisper shrank away.

The problem with his demons was that sometimes they were right. Addictive nature or not, there might be a time when he needed the device to save his ship and crew. Wouldn't there? He was confused. I need to get out of here, he thought. I need to be back on the bridge of the Nevermore where I belong. Only then will I be able to think clearly.

Akira didn't know, but the demons of his past were just one creature. Right now the thing was smiling. The seed of doubt was planted. With proper care and patience the doubt would grow. I have all the time I need, Akira, the demon thought. You go to your ship but soon you will be paying the price. Soon I will be in control and no ancestor's memory will help you.

Akira placed his hand on the brushed steel doorknob and stared into the empty whiteness of the door and paused. Yes, it's time to get back to my ship, he thought.

{/rp}

Cmdr. Akira

More to follow soon

[This message has been edited by Ron Wallin (edited 03-24-99).]

Charles Lindsey · April 4, 1999

Tac, hey Tac. I'm about to run Rampant. *EG* I'll play nice but I'm almost there.

{RP}

Commander Woods thought for a moment and added, "Mr. Black, please send some system engineers to the Transporter room also. About twenty ought to do it."

"Aye sir," replied Mr. Black.

"Mr. Myers, you have the bridge. Steer clear of anything that would disrupt the cloaking field and keep those drones going. If the gains out-way the loss of time continue. If not, please inform me."

"Aye, sir," replied Mr Myers, "Flight officer has the bridge."

"Good, everyone keep alert," Commander Woods said as he left the bridge. He left with full knowledge that the bridge crew would carry out his orders. They had all graduated within a few years of each other and Woods had chosen out of the top of each class. Jhoanna was a pain sometimes but that was to be expected given her profile. Brash, to the point, and even prone to the ocasional dig but she was good. Mr. Myers was extremely stable and by the book. He had not questioned one single order given by Chavik. Good man that one. Mr. Black scored high on his exit exam but did not seem the imaginative type. His repairs times were up there with the best of them but Chavik had thrown him a curve by suggesting using another system's part.

Woods arrived in the transporter room to find eight marines standing there and some of the system engineers filtering in. More system engineers were coming in and Woods started pairing them off by size. When he had paired them all off he sent the remaining sys. engineers back on duty to repair the damaged Mark2. Of those that were left he sent to get a spare uniform. "Any of you had any engineering experience?" he asked of the remaining marines when the system engineers had left. Silence reigned.

A few of the system ingineers began coming back into the transporter room with bundles in their hands. They were bundles of clothing.

Commander Woods waited a full minute before asking, "None of you have had any engineering experience whatsoever?" Silence was supreme once more. "No one has had any system engineering experience whatsoever?"

One marine started shuffling along the back. "Yes?" Commander Woods asked, staring that marine down.

"Well sir, I helped my daddy on a Jenstar a little. Just a little. It was mostly stick and go," said the marine. Woods checked the Perscan. It was marine #34.

Woods cringed internally at the most familiar name one could give a father but didn't let on. "So you are familiar with the requisition process?"

"A little sir. I bought a couple parts at Centauri station, Wraith seems to be modeled after that staion," marine #34 said.

"That it is. You paid more attention than you thought," Woods said while smiling. "Wraith is a type 4 station. It is modeled along the lines of Centauri, Ramix, Procin, and a couple others. Do you remember where the stores are since you bought parts?"

"Umm, the upper levels?" asked marine #34.

System engineer #15 had just brought one of his spare uniforms into the transporter room for use on the mission when he heard marine #34 give that explanation. "Begging your pardon sir, but type 4 stations have the tech on the lower levels, the rec and crew quarters are on the upper levels," said Sytem engineer #15.

"Are you sure of that?" asked Timothy Woods, orienting his gaze on Sys. Eng. #15. "Is he right?" he asked of marine #34.

Marine #34 answered, "Yes sir, I do think he is right now that I think about it. Tech is definitely on the lower levels. It's been a while. Sorry sir. "

Commander Woods looked at them both. System engineer #15 looked more confident than marine #34. "Do either of you have names?" asked Commander Woods.

"Aye sir," System engineer #15 replied. "It's Bill White."

Marine #34 replied, "Ted Barlow."

"Good, you two are in charge of this mission. I want that part secured by any means necessary. Pick any other two marines and be prepared for this mission."

"Which is what sir? Begging your pardon again," asked Bill White.

"Four of you are to be beamed aboard Wraith station and procure an AI Interface. We need that part to fix the Navitron computer."

"That won't wash sir," said Mr. White. "Four techs would never go after one part. Those parts room jockeys are sticklers. It's the only power they have and they lord it over you. Hardly anyone goes to the parts room if they can avoid it. Even on an emergency call. Getting one of them to pull a part without a requisition is like pulling teeth."

"You seem to know what you are talking about," said Commander Woods. "You are in charge of procurement and Barlow and you and you are in charge of security," he said, pointing to two other marines. "Names?"

"Joe Hansen, sir," replied marine #16.

"Danny Edwards," said marine #7.

"Good, now get changed into those tech uniforms and get started." Woods watched them change and noticed the fit bodies. Even through under clothes the muscles stood out. Remebering his run with Chavik he made a mental note to go into strength training as well. When they had all changed Woods sent the others back to duty.

"Are you ready? Do you have any recommended beam in points?"

Ayes came fom the three marines and Mr. White said, "There is a little used service tube near the parts room. If I could see a diagram of the station I could show you." Woods motioned to the transporter operator and a diagram of the Procin station appeared. Mr. White walked over to the hologram, pointed, and said "Here, in arm six, just before the nexus of the lower arms."

Mr. White walked back to the tranporter and waited while Commander Woods asked the system engineer, "Do you have a lock on that?"

"Aye sir," said the system engineer who had remained behind to operate the transporter.

"Get ready to beam out then."

Mr. White and the other three marines climbed onto the transporter pad. At Commander Woods signal the system engineer operated the transporter. Mr. White's whole body started to tingle like a foot that had gone to sleep. Then it was over and they were standing inside Wraith station.

Commander Woods watched them disappear and went back to the bridge. He would be tense until everyone returned. He hoped Chavik planned on getting plenty of rest.

Timothy Woods

ICV Mark2

{RP} OFF.

Hope I defined the station as you imagined it. If not editing is easily done. But why in the world you would pick that station I'll never know. The arms don't connect any where but the outer ring. Of course Spectre is just as bad with those fang things pointing down. (Sorry Rattler )

I went through the manual to find that Wraith (and Procin which it is modeled after) is a type 4 station. Galcom is #1 (and unique), Starpath is #2, Gazer1 is #3, Genesis (at the Moon) is also a #2 (fits since it was the second station built), and Centauri, Ramix, Procin, and a few others are a #4. Each new type got the next number. I did this for all of them. Gammula is #10. IOD's and armor appear to be the same but ship and missile compliments vary widely. Even Shield values differ slightly.

This is probably the only time this info will be used but I have it nonetheless.

I have a few posts left to finsh my little adventure out. It's gotten away from the original plot but please leave it open and I'll finish here. It would be silly of me to start a new thread to finish this up and I about imagine Gallion will start one when his ship gets re-fitted. {G}

Tac, I won't be too hard on your station.

April 5, 1999

Sorry you don't like the Rattler's Den. The particular type was chosen because of its effective use elsewhere. Have you been to the core worlds of the Gammulan Empire? Ever fight a SS that has cloaking abillities? Have you been able to disable it lately?

The choice was made because, quite frankly, outside of the model GHQ is based on, it's the strongest type of SS out there. Check the stats in the manual. The Rattler's Den is only a hair less powerful than GHQ. It's got a huge compliment of NPC ships, and defenses (providing DS didn't make any modifications!!!).

Go ahead. Jump in system by yourself and start launching IC's and missles at Rattler's Den. You'll be dead before you know it.

Beyond that, NONE of the SS designs in this universe are all that defensively spectacular. They all have design flaws that NO military would ever approve.

Cmdr. Akira

Charles Lindsey · April 5, 1999

I do like Rattler's Den. Rattler's Den at least has a main body with which to recieve incoming ships. Plus supply repair parts etc. Nuclear reactor etc.

Wraith HQ is modeled after Procin. Which to the eye has no discernable placement of the

reactor. Which may also be smaller than we thought *G*

But at the time I was thinking of a sys. engineer's point of view. It would be a night mare to repair system on "upper arm 1" of the Procin model and then travel to lower arm seven. (Don't ask which one's are which *G* I don't have that much brass)

At the same time it would be a nightmare to repair something in the "Lower" "Fang1" then have to travel to "Lower" "Fang4" of Rattler's Den. That was what I meant and not that Ratttler's Den had a bad model. Simply a system's engineer's nightmare.

I do like Rattler's Den in the fact that it looks totally Evil. *G*. Plus the shield and armor are way up there. And the fact that it is unique other than Gammula station. Now where did the Insurgents get the model? (RP post maybe?) It's just a sytem engineer's nightmare. *G* That's all and that's all I meant to say.

{RP} ON

White, Barlow, Hansen, and Edwards beamed into the service tube.

Barlow, still unsure of himself, looked to White. Mr. White just rolled his eyes. "Ok guys, just follow ne to the storeroom. And get that "Ready to Kill" off your faces. That's bound to raise eyebrows. But I was serious about only two techs going into the storeroom. No one wants to talk to a store clerk."

Barlow spoke up. "OK, Hansen and Edwards, you two stand guard once we get inside."

The four of them exited the service tube. They got a few odd stares from the small amount of personnel travelling in that area but the Insurgent group just ignored them and the station personnel seemed to do the same. They headed towards the store room trying to look non-chalant.

Just outside the store room they paused. Mr.White said,"I'm telling ya no more that two techs ever go into stores."

Barlow looked like he was about to vomit but he told Hansen and Edwards to secure the area while they conducted the proceedings inside.

Bill White assigned to the ICV Mark2

Aboard Wraith station

Ted Barlow assigned to the ICV Mark2

Aboard Wraith staion

"Shopping is hell"

{RP} OFF

P.S. Ron I've missed you on Icq lately. I (my character) should be back about the time you are "healed". We could have another adventure or whatever. *G* would love to shake up the universe some more.

Charles

[This message has been edited by Charles Lindsey (edited 04-05-99).]

Gallion · April 9, 1999

(rp)

The Refit; Part One

Gallion finished reading the datapad that his Chief Engineer handed him. Lt. Cmdr. Scott was waiting for Cmdr. GallionÔÇÖs response. A response he was looking to yet at the same time not looking forward to. The GCV Graf SpeeÔÇÖs refit was halted in place. Most of the major repairs were completed. Ship stores and weapons had been restocked. The problem lay with the special coating that Gallion wanted to cover the huge Galactan Class Battlecruiser and its support vessels.

The problem began shortly after the required materials arrived at Wraith-HQ eight days ago. Gallion had ordered both the Research Engineer and the Chief Engineer to develop a compound that would make the Graf Spee nearly invisible, if not completely invisible, to normal ground and space-borne scanners and radar systems. A difficult tasking to say the least but not impossible. The problem lay in the coatingÔÇÖs mixture; aka molecular makeup.

Masking a craft from both radar and scanner was accomplished and prevalent over ten centuries ago by the ancient super-powers on Earth. This practice was discontinued shortly after its inception when it was discovered by the super-powers that it cost to much in both monetary and material terms to implement. The ancient North American super-power developed this coating technology to its fullest. They even managed to develop and deploy several huge aircraft carriers and several aircraft wings that were next to invisible to both ground and space borne detection systems. Why Cmdr. Gallion wanted to reinvent and develop this technology was a question that Lt. Cmdr. Scott left unasked since the Corsair Wing leader had asked, no ordered him to develop this crazy paint.

Gallion placed the datapad on top of a stacked other datapads on his desk and looked at Lt. Cmdr. Scott.

ÔÇ£How do we fix this Chief?ÔÇØ Gallion said, ÔÇ£there has to be a way to harden the coating so that it would stay on a vessel without peeling off.ÔÇØ Scott did not say anything or even look at Gallion. He was staring at the painting hanging on the wall behind and slightly above Gallion. It was a ancient oil on canvas painting of the a battleship. No not a battleship, he thought, a Pocket Battleship. Small, fast, heavily armored and gunned. A raider that had caused havoc and mayhem during one of several ancient world wars of the twentieth century. The brass placard on the paintingÔÇÖs frame had two words inscribed on it; Graf Spee. The proverbial lightbulb went on in the Chief EngineerÔÇÖs head as he looked at his shipÔÇÖs namesake painting. Why did I not think of that before? It is so simple thatÔÇªLt. Cmdr. Scott snapped out of his dream state and looked his commander in the eye.

ÔÇ£Earth to Mr. Scott! Hello out thereÔÇªÔÇØ Gallion was trying to get a response from his daydreaming Chief Engineer and was about to begin a tirade that wouldÔÇª ÔÇ£I have it Sir!ÔÇØ Scott said, ÔÇ£I have it!ÔÇØ Gallion was taken aback by the sudden outburst from Scott. ÔÇ£What do youÔÇªÔÇØ Gallion started to say before Scott interrupted him. ÔÇ£This is what we need Gallion and this is how we will apply the paint to IC1.ÔÇØ Lt. Cmdr. said to Gallion as he began to explain to the Corsair Wing leader how this miracle would happen. The miracle would happen before the Graf Spee left Docking Bay 13 and Wraith-HQ.

As Scott explained the what and how of this project, Gallion leaned back into his chair and grinned. Scott did not notice the evil little grin that usually sent chills up and down his spine when he saw it. He was to wrapped up in the project to notice anything. Gallion told the rambling Chief Engineer to do what ever was needed, he had two more days, and dismissed him. Gallion turned his chair to see what held ScottÔÇÖs attention earlier and grinned even harder. His eyes fell upon the ancient painting and its brass placard.

...remember...

(/rp)

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

Cmdr Gallion

GCV-Graf Spee, Corsair Wing

Wraith Fleet

Charles Lindsey · April 16, 1999

heh, forgot ya couldn't use angle brackets. *G*

{RP} ON

Mr. Hansen and Mr. Edwards took post outside the Wraith storeroom. Their grim demeanor made the personnel haunting these halls of Wraith station give wide ground. They didn't know what was going on but they did not want to find out either. Those that had no business near stores gave a wide berth and those that intended to enter suddenly decided they had better palces to be.

Inside, Bill White sauntered towards the counter with a grin on his face. The bored, white haired, stores clerk looked up and said, "What do ya want?"

While disappointed Mr. White never let his grin falter and said, "I'm here to pick up some AI interfaces."

"Friggin' tech's can't keep their systems hooked together," Mr. White hears the clerk mumble. "Who ya with son?" asks the clerk.

This time his grin did falter and Mr. White visibly paled. He pulls the only ship he can think of at the moment out of his swirling thoughts. "The Graf Spee, I'm here to pick up AI interfaces for a repair."

The clerk looks cross ways at him. "I heard ya the first time son, sumpin' wrong wich you?"

Mr. White forces the grin back on his face, "No, I just need those parts. The Commander wants the system fixed real bad. We gotta get 'em and get going."

The clerk harumphs. "Sounds about right for a CoarseHair. But I don't see a requisition son."

Outside the store room two techs were walking down the hall. They were discussing current events and other general banter when they ran into Hansen and Edwards. One of them looked up in surprise, said "Excuse me," and tried to walk around them. Hansen and Edwards closed together.

Hansen looked at Edwards. Edwards shrugged. Hansen looked back at the techs and said, "Well my friends inside gotta issue with Ol' Puddy in there. I don't think you want to see what's gonna happpen."

The two techs looked at each other and grinned. "Our parts can wait, I wanna see the bruises on that old cuss." The techs walked away together. Obviously laughing about the next time they would see the stock clerk.

Barlow pulled his sidearm on the stroe clerk, "Look buddy; we need those parts and we need them now! Just step back from the counter and go get them."

"You ain't gettin' no parts. You're going on report right now mister. What's your name?" said the store clerk.

A black mark appeared on the counter. "There's my name dimwit. You want me to give it to ya personally? Now get me those parts."

Mr. White spoke up. "The Commander been riding him really hard lately. I suggest you give us those parts. Charge them to the Graf Spee on a temporary ticket. They'll be approved. And my friend may not come come back to haunt you. He'll be in enough trouble as it is."

The clerk harumphed again as he punched in commands on the touchpad. A droid appeared immediately and shot off towards the back room. As the droid left he continued tapping. Mr. White walked up to the counter and cancdelled all input. "That's enough, you step back and do the temp later. Barlow pay attention to him. I think we've hurt his feelings a bit. We don't need him doing anything rash."

"Aye sir," replied Barlow.

Mr. White just rolled his eyes. The next instant the droid was back with the part. It deposited it on the counter and went back into it's cubicle. White grabbed it and thanked the store clerk. "Here is something to remember us by," said Barlow as he launched a smoke grenade.

As they came out of the store room White asked, "Did you have to do that?"

"Yes sir, rule number one. Confuse the enemy. He would have hit the alarm as soon as we left, this way we have a bit."

White looked at Barlow. He still looked pale but there was now a determination in his face White hadn't seen before. They gathered Hansen and Edwards and started running towards the beam out point. He couldn't help but laugh out loud as they ran wawy from the biggest small heist ever committed. A few of the station's personnel grinned with him as they saw the smoke creep out of the closed store room doors. A well played prank deserved a grin. Little did the station personnel know just what a prank it was.

Bill White

ICV Phoenix (aboard Wraith Station)

"Done Shopping, gotta get home"

{RP} OFF

[This message has been edited by Charles Lindsey (edited 04-19-99).]

Shadowstar · April 18, 1999

This looks like some great RP. I've read through the previous 6 or so threads and I think I'm pretty much up to date on it. I'm thinking of jumping in, just need to think of a way to introduce my character...

April 20, 1999

I, for one, look forward to your addition. Your first post here was great! I can only hope you enjoyed all that reading

Cmdr. Akira

Shadowstar · April 20, 1999

I thought the plot development there was amazing... It's pretty cool how a bunch of RP'ers can create an involved storyline on the fly like that. Anyway, here goes...

{RP on}

Darkness...

The warm, comfortable sort of darkness that came with sleep. Punctuated with dreams and random thoughts, this sort of mental dance was always welcome after a long day. Unfortunately, a rude beam of light was soon to destroy the peace.

His eyes flicked open immediately, but felt as if they were being pulled shut again by some unknown force. A wide ray of sunlight was splashed across his face as the sun had just come up and was shining through the window. Robert cursed for staying up too late the previous night, even though he knew he had to be up early the following morning to catch his flight. He had been in retirement for a long time now, after having successfully completed a career as a Battlecruiser commander and was still enjoying the benefits of favors from the high command at Galcom HQ. Most of those guys were convinced that they owed thier lives to him after he and his old crew saved the station from an Insurgent attack, despite the conclusion that the attack was completely uncoordinated and poorly executed. Robert hoped they didn't have any more plans for him to go up against the Insurgents. The old days were different, those were the days when the Insurgency was nothing more than a collection of misfits without any real goals or organization. Now that they had new leadership, thier entire effort had been moulded into something nearly as strong and powerful as Galcom. He thought it was impressive how one man could reshape an entire movement into a force to be reckoned with.

He looked at the clock, pulling himself away from his thoughts and got dressed. He didn't have much time to get to the starport. It was a nice, sunny day on Earth. The clouds were fluffy and white, the birds were singing, and the air smelled sweet and pure. It was all so perfect - perfectly annoying... Being spaceborn, he was accustomed to the vast blackness of space and only felt secure there. The blue "beauty" of Earth was alien to him and had only chosen to retire there because it was so highly recommended to him. He smiled at the thought of being in space again.

He finally reached the spaceport and boarded the shuttle that would take him to his final destination. Upon boarding the shuttle, an officer handed him a datapad and he looked over it as the shuttle made for orbit.

A few days ago, Galcom HQ had decided to recomission his old ship, the Starflight, with a new crew to perform a series of small missions around the Sol system. They had contacted him out of respect and asked him if he would be interested in seeing his old ship again and if he would like to take command once again for the short series of missions, for old time's sake. Eager to get off this rock and take a break from his early retirement, he accepted. He knew he wouldn't really be doing anything up there. It was patrol. All he had to do was tell the crew to patrol the system and they could handle it while he toured the decks of his old ship and enjoyed the memories of his old command. He figured it would just be a chance to reminisque and a refreshing return to space, no real command duties to speak of. He doubted there would be any combat, after all, the last attack on the Sol system was years ago. Sure, raiders and pirates still attacked transports every so often but these were certainly no threat to a Battlecruiser, even one with a green crew. Then, his eyes fell upon something out of the shuttle window and he gazed in awe.

The GCV Starflight glittered in the distance, it's enormous bulk speckled with the thousands of tiny lights along the hull. The ship had been restored to perfect condition and looked better than ever. The shuttle approached the great Battlecruiser slowly and his eyes remained fixed on the ship as the shuttle passed underneath it, heading toward the docking bay. He smiled as the docking procedure completed and the shuttle came to a rest within the belly of the great ship. Upon stepping out onto the deck of his ship, he felt a surge of energy as if new life was breathed into him. He suddenly recognized all of the slight vibrations and physical variations that only existed onboard a large spaceship. It made him feel like he was home again. Indeed he was. Then he remembered that he would be leaving in probably a few days or maybe a week at the most, and his heart sank at the thought of it.

Travelling through his ship to the bridge was like a walk down memory lane. He saw all of the old corridors, rooms, and places that he was familiar with from so long ago, but there were new faces everywhere. Even the uniforms were slightly different. He hadn't been given his own uniform just yet and was still dressed in civilian clothing, but people all over the ship recognized him. Some knew him from the media stories decades ago, while others knew him simply because they were now assigned to his command, and Galcom had made sure the crew knew who thier new commander would be. His uniform was waiting for him in his quarters, but he didn't want to go there for some time.

Upon arriving on the bridge, the crew saluted him and the officer accompanying him went through the formalities. When all was said and done, he seated himself at the command chair and felt the surge of memories coming back to him. The crew was somewhat off guard as thier Commander was dressed in civilian attire, but were wise not to mention it. While it wasn't exactly in keeping with regulations, there are always some things that can be allowed at least for a little while.

After pondering through memories for a moment or two, Commander Robert Beckwith put out a broadcast through the entire ship -

"Greetings. I know you are a new crew fresh from training and you may all have your doubts about your new Commander. You are now serving aboard a prestigious vessel that is respected among the Galcom fleet. She may be old, but she is still a Galactan, and that represents the finest in Battlecruisers. There is no ship in the universe that can equal or surpass the strength of this ship. I want you all to know that. But a ship is only as good as it's crew, and you are among the best. I know we aren't going to be flying off to the ends of the universe to fight the Gammulans or the Insurgents, but your skill and determination will be important to the function of this ship. We are charged with protecting the Sol system, namely Earth, which is a task of greater honor than conquering the enemy, for we are defending our home and the home of the entire Human race. I know you can do it, and do it well. And one last thing - while I am in command of this ship, you will address me as my old crew did - 'Captain Shadowstar'. Don't ask - it's a long story." He grinned and knew that he would soon have nearly half the ship asking him to tell the story of his old name within the next two days. The fact was, he himself didn't even know where he got the old name. He figured it must have been related to something during his youth that he had long forgotten by now. Oh well, it was good to be back...

{RP off}

Well there it is. I hope I didn't inadvertently run over some previously established plot points or anything. (I don't think I did anyway)

[This message has been edited by Shadowstar (edited 04-20-99).]

The Turning of a Wraith

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