Gallion Posted February 16, 1999 Report Posted February 16, 1999 This thread is a continuation of the Finding Akira thread to a certain degree. Any and all are welcome to post, either within the "plot" (if there even is one) or with their own adventure. Timeline is a couple of days after the Return of the Nevermore to Spectre SS.....Parts of this thread are coded. Two scripts located at this website inter.scoutnet.org/morse/ will translate code to text and text to code. Only copy/paste 2-3 lines at a time, the scripts can only handle so much. <rp> The Prose Gallion did not have to wait long for the InsurgentÔÇÖs reply to his little ploy. Ship, after ship launched from The RattlerÔÇÖs Den. Gallion had figured out how to Insurgent OneÔÇÖs attention. Hopefully without having to fight his way out of system.Gallion: ÔÇ£TACNET Open! Gallion to Wing, lower shield strength by 50%, Gallion OUT!ÔÇØGallion hoped that the Insurgent Commanders would recognize this gesture. An ancient gesture warships of old use to signify ÔÇ£parleyÔÇØ verses war. Just to make sure, Gallion did what he did not want to do ...Gallion: ÔÇ£Comms, Open tight beam channel to Spectre!ÔÇØ Comms: ÔÇ£Channel open Sir!Gallion: quote: What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burtonheath, by birth a pedlar, by education a cardmaker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me not: if she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, , score me up for the lyingest knave in Christendom What! I am not bestraught: here'sÔÇöGallion: ÔÇ£Comms, close channel and route any response from Spectre directly to me.ÔÇØ Comms: ÔÇ£Aye Sir, communications traffic between the Insurgent vessels and Spectre has increased Sir.ÔÇØGallion was tense and uncertain. His Shrewness just might be his undoing this time. Commander Tac again repeated his order to RTB, to the safety and comfort of home. A home that he no longer felt comfortable at or within. Gallion ignored this latest attempt to interrupt his mission by the Wraith Fleet Commander. Communications systems were unreliable anyway and he was not sure if the message was clear enough. Bah, Tac is a pompus twit and an arse anyway, Gallion thought to himself, I'll deal with him soon enough.The Witching Hour: With that thought Gallion turned his attention to the immediate threat. The thirty Insurgent spacecraft that completely encircled Corsair Wing. A circle of death if Gallion's plan did not work .... The circle kept growing, more ships were being launched from both the Rattler's Den and from the planet's surface. Gallion was beginning to have a bad feeling about this. <rp/> ------------------ Cmdr Gallion GCV-Graf Spee, Corsair Wing Wraith Fleet[This message has been edited by Gallion (edited 02-20-99).]
Rattler Posted February 17, 1999 Report Posted February 17, 1999 And so begins another Saga <RP> Tactical..."They've lowered their shields to 50%, Sir! Do You know why they would do that, Sir?" Rattler had watched with amusement as the group Of GALCOM Ships had emerged from Hyper Space so closely to "The Den" and had almost immediately been encircled by the Insurgency. 'Twas like the hand of a hungry child reaching out for that last piece of candy in the box, quickly, before one's siblings could grab it. He had ordered his Commanders to OBSERVE, but DO NOT FIRE unless attacked first. Now the GALCOM Ships were completely at his mercy, or so it would appear, but Rattler was an inquisitive soul. What do they want? Rattler had clearly recognized the "Graf Spee" as the Command Vessel of the group, and from the looks of all the ships in it's group, they had been places where not many return. Though Battered and Charred, They were not Beaten. Rattler's thoughts were broken by his Chief Communications Officer's announcement of "Incoming Communications from Graf Spee!" "Marked PERSONAL, For Rattler's EYES ONLY!"Rattler scanned the message... quote:What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly,old Sly's son of Burtonheath, by birth a pedlar, by education a cardmaker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me not: if she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, , score me up for the lyingest knave in Christendom What! I am not bestraught: here's-Taken aback by one who would know one of Rattler's Vices, He smiled outwardly. Rattler...Send this message to Graf Spee, tight band!... "You are either very shrewd, or very dumb. You've bought yourself some time away from Hells Front Door, IF you respond correctly to this next series of lines. You've chosen this as your means of communications, I choose it as a method of authenticity..... quote:Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house, As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth, Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment And banish hence these abject lowly dreams. Look how thy servants do attend on thee, Each in his office ready at thy beck. wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays,.....You've got 15 minutes to respond correctly Graf Spee! After that, I send you to Hell for invasion of Insurgency Space. Check, Your Move!"Got that Comms? Comms..."Aye, Sir! Message Away!"Rattler..."Now we wait, and hope he has it in him out there. Have all Ships surrounding him to verify their orders. Let's give him a chance. He's come this far, He just might go the distance. This Commander's got Brass, I'll give him that for sure!" </RP>--- -.- / -.-. .... .- ...- .. -.- --..-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / - ..- .-. -. / - --- / -... . ..-. ..- -.. -.. .-.. . / - .... . ... . / --. ..- -.-- ... ------------------ Rattler, Spectre, Insurgent One Official BC3K Tester [email protected] ICQ 12894104[This message has been edited by Rattler (edited 02-16-99).]
Gallion Posted February 17, 1999 Author Report Posted February 17, 1999 <rp>The PlayComms: ÔÇ£Incoming message Sir;ÔÇØ quote: You've got 15 minutes to respond correctly Graf Spee! After that, I send you to Hell for invasion of Insurgency Space. Check, Your Move!And he plays Chess too ... hmmm, that was not in the file; Gallion mused and wondered.Gallion: ÔÇØComms, Open and maintain tight-beam channel with Spectre!ÔÇØ Comms: ÔÇ£Channel opened Sir!ÔÇØ Gallion: ÔÇ£Route ALL transmissions to my station from and to Spectre.ÔÇØ Comms: ÔÇ£Aye sir,ÔÇØ the Comms officer replied to Commander Gallion. At the same time, she was wondering if she should call for help. Corsair Wing was completely surrounded by the InsurgentsGallion looked at the uncertainty that was reflected in the face his Comms Officer. He then scanned the rest of the bridge and saw the same look. Each crewmember wondered if Commander had lost his mind. Gallion had seen that look before, the look of mutiny, despair, and lack of confidence in their commander. Gallion got out of his command chair and moved to the center of the bridge.Gallion: ÔÇ£TACNET Open: Ok, you may be wondering what the devil are we doing here in Insurgent space, surrounded by Insurgents, and may be blown away by Insurgents. A ship intercepted the TDF IFF Code modules that were transmitted to Wraith HQ. That ship slipped a mickey on the IFF codes. That mickey caused the loss of three Corsair Wing ships and crews. We still havenÔÇÖt repaired the damaged that it caused. I intend to find that ship or the person, people, or organization that were responsible for the mickey and send them beyond the void. I need each and every one of you to bear with me. I know that it does not look good for us but we are Corsair's and CorsairÔÇÖs never lose. Gallion OUT!, TACNET CLOSED!ÔÇØWith that Gallion returned to his command chair and typed in a reply to the RattlerÔÇÖs challenge; quote:Ay, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long. But I would be loath to fall into my dreams again: I will therefore tarry in despite of the flesh and the blood.At the same time Gallion tapped vehemonantly on that strange device on the chairÔÇÖs armrest which caused the Wings IFF codes to flicker: The Opening .. / -.-. --- -- . / .. -. / .--. . .- -.-. . / / / -.-. .- .-. . / ..-. --- .-. / .- / --. .- -- . / --- ..-. / -.-. .... . ... ... Pawn to King four, check is blocked but mate is still possible. Gallion hoped that it would not be his King that is crowned. It is Four Past Midnight. Gallion thinks that he has just touched the warrior inside. If he hasn't then the warriors outside will let him know... <rp/>------------------ Cmdr Gallion GCV-Graf Spee, Corsair Wing Wraith Fleet[This message has been edited by Gallion (edited 02-17-99).]
Gallion Posted February 18, 1999 Author Report Posted February 18, 1999 <rp> En PassantGallion was waiting, waiting for what he did not really know. He only knew that his gambit was the logical thing to do given the circumstances. Gallion put the time to good use and found a connection that just may save his arse. Hopefully, he will not have to play his trump card. Gallion grinned a sig...TacOps: ÔÇ£Commander, one Insurgent ship is moving away, point 21, minus 49 by point 79, off the aft Sir!ÔÇØGallion looked into his CVD and targeted the craft; Battlecruiser Mk2, one of their new ones, Gallion thought. Nothing special about this ship movement, he activated his target camera to get a better view. Speed dropped rapidly to zero, indicating the beginning of a jump. A jump anomaly formed at the front of the Insurgent Battlecruiser. Everything looked normal until the Insurgent vessel disappeared from the CVD display and TacOps scanners. Not a normal jump after all.Gallion: ÔÇ£Any trace of that ship?ÔÇØ TacOps: ÔÇ£Negative sir! The Insurgent vessel must have cloaked.ÔÇØDamn, thought Gallion, but then again I canÔÇÖt blame them either. The Corsair Wing leader had to fight his natural instinct and the buzz in the back of his head. A buzz that saved him and the Wing on more than one occasion. Discretion is the better part of valor sometimes, Gallion thought.Gallion: ÔÇ£TACNET Open; Activate PTA, 10% target MISSILES only until further notice, Gallion OUT!ÔÇØAt least we will not be sitting ducks, Gallion thought as he surveyed the battlefield. Odds were not with Corsair this time, not even as a long shot. Gallion began tapping on his command chair again..--. .- .-- -. / - --- / -.- / / . -. / .--. .- ... ... .- -. - / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / -... . / .- / --. --- --- -.. / -- --- ...- . .- -. -.. / .--. ..- - / -- . / -... .- -.-. -.- / .. -. / -.-. .... . -.-. -.- .. / ... . . / -- .- - . / .. -. / - .-- --- / -- --- ...- . ... .-- .... .- - / -.. --- / -.-- --- ..- / ... . . Corsair WingÔÇÖs IFF filckered in time with GallionÔÇÖs tapping. His Comms officerÔÇÖs face looked like a supenova when she finally figured out what her commander was doing. She smiled and looked at Gallion, a look that beamed with confidence.The Time Ten Past Midnight, Fifty minutes remain in the Witching hour. <rp/>- .... . / .- .-. .. --.. --- -. .- / -.-. .- .--. .. - .- .-.. / .. ... / ..- .--. ------------------ Cmdr Gallion GCV-Graf Spee, Corsair Wing Wraith Fleet[This message has been edited by Gallion (edited 02-17-99).]
Rattler Posted February 18, 1999 Report Posted February 18, 1999 <RP> Rattler studdied the incomming communications from his ships surrounding this GALCOM Wing. He also had noticed and monitored the flashing IFF codes imminating from the Graf Spee. Thinking to himself, again he allowed a smile. "So that's what you're up to Graf Spee?" "You truely do have brass, Commander. One such as yourself should not be wasted in such a manner."Rattler..."Comms, get a message out to the Fleet. Stand Down! I repeat, Stand Down! Escort Graf Spee out to Fleet Anchorage 'Charlie' and await further orders. Once again, if they try to leave the System, then, and only then are you to assume Hostile Intent and deal with the threat accordingly!....Rattler Out!"Comms..."Message Away.. Sir!"Rattler.. "Send Message to Graf Spee, plain text, open channel. No need in pursueing a fleeing Buck. He's too fast, and the forest is too thick. Wait on him, he'll return soon enough. Now kindly follow that Ship beaconing you out there. Go there, and only there. Understood?"Comms: "Message Sent...Sir!"</RP> .-.. . .- ... - / .-- . / -.-. .- -. / -.. --- / .. ... / -- --- ...- . / - .... .. ... / .- .-.. --- -. --. / .- / .-.. .. - - .-.. . / ..-. ..- .-. - .... . .-. / .-.-.- / / -. --- ... . -. ... . / .. -. / .-.. .- --. --. .. -. --. / -... . .... .. -. -.. / / ---... / / ------------------ Rattler, Spectre, Insurgent One Official BC3K Tester [email protected] ICQ 12894104
Gallion Posted February 19, 1999 Author Report Posted February 19, 1999 <rp> The PromotionComms: ÔÇ£Incoming mes...ÔÇØ Gallion: ÔÇ£I see it Lt. Follow the Insurgent beacon ship and notify the Wing.ÔÇØGallion tapped out his reply. quote:.- -.-. -.- -. --- .-- .-.. . -.. --. . -.. / --..-- / / ..-. --- .-.. .-.. --- .-- .. -. --. / -... . .- -.-. --- -. / / -... .-. . .- -.- / / - .... . / .--. .- .-- -. / .. ... / --- -. / -.- .. -. --. / / / .- .-- .- .. - .. -. --. / .--. .-. --- -- --- - .. --- -. / / -... .-. . .- -.- / / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / .. - / .- / -.- -. .. --. .... - / -... .. ... .... --- .--. / --.- ..- . . -. / --- .-. / .-. --- --- -.- / -... .-. . .- -.- / .... .- ...- . / .. -. ..-. --- .-. -- .- - .. --- -. / .- -. -.. / -. . . -.. / - --- / -.-. --- -. ..-. . .-. / -... .-. . .- -.- / .- / -... . .- -- / - --- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .--. .-.. .- -.-. . / .. ... / .--. .-. . ..-. . .-. .- -... .-.. . / .. / .- -- / ... ..- .-. . / -... .-. . .- -.- / / -- -.-- ... . .-.. ..-. / .- -. -.. / ... --- ..- -. -.. -... --- ..- -.-- / - .-- --- / .. ... / .- .-.. .-.. / .. / -. . . -.. / / -... .-. . .- -.- / / .- .-- .- .. - / .-. . .--. .-.. -.-- / .-- .. - .... / -... .- .. - . -.. / -... .-. . .- - .... / -... .-. . .- -.- / - .... .. ... / ... .--. .- -.-. . / .... .- ... / . -.-- . ... / .- ... / -.-- --- ..- .-. / -... ..- -.-. -.- / -.. --- / .- - - . ... - / / -... .-. . .- -.- / / ..- -. - .. .-.. / - .... . / . -. -.. / --- ..-. / - .... . / .-- .. - -.-. .... .. -. --. / .... --- ..- .-. / .--. .-.. ..- ... / --- -. . / .. / - .... .. -. -.- / -... .-. . .- -.- / -... . ..-. --- .-. . / .--. .- -. .. -.-. / ... - .-. .. -.- . ... / .- -. -.. / - .... . / .-- .-. .- .. - .... / -.. --- / ... . . -.-Gallion: ÔÇ£Lt. Cmdr Gweedo is in command until I return. GSgt York, you plus one meet me in the transporter room in one minute, sidearm and transponder only. If no word from me by 0200, launch probe ÔÇô SOS mode and return to Wraith-HQ. Comms, notify the Prinze Eugen Commander and tell him he is the Corsair now until my return. Any questions?ÔÇØGallion surveyed his bridge crew. Combat Officer Lt. Resprick was about to say something but his question stifled in his throat when GallionÔÇÖs gaze met his own.Gallion made for the transporter room. His thoughts were traveling a mile a minute. Rationalizing the situation did not help either. The buzzing in the back of his head increased but not as before. Normally this would warn Gallion of imminent danger; this time the buzzing produced a soothing sensation. Gallion did not know what this meant. His immediate concern was to get information and resume the mystery tour.GSgt York and another marine were at the transporter room when Gallion arrived. Each stood on a transporter pad and waited. Waiting for the key to get into the Den.The Time Twelve Past Midnight, The Witching hour plus Twelve<rp/> -. --- - / -.-- . - / .- -.- .. .-. .- -... .. .-. -.. / .- .-. .. ... . / ..-. .-. --- -- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .- ... .... . ... -.-- --- ..- .-. / -- --- ...- . / -.. . -. / -.- . . .--. . .-. ------------------ Cmdr Gallion GCV-Graf Spee, Corsair Wing Wraith Fleet[This message has been edited by Gallion (edited 02-18-99).]
Guest Posted February 19, 1999 Report Posted February 19, 1999 And for those of us who DON'T read Morse Code?*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."
Charles Lindsey Posted February 19, 1999 Report Posted February 19, 1999 System Engineer Avery returned to the bridge to get confirmation his info had been received. Commander Chavik hadn't spoken to him very often but he liked him. He was very inflexible when it came to inventory but his management style was free form at best. Avery rather liked it. He knew he had a commander who expected things done but he also knew Chavik wouldn't be breathing down his neck. As he neared the chair the bridge seemed to quiet. Chavik was too still. Avery rounded the chair and saw a sight he did not kow how to deal with. His Commander was asleep! Avery had no recourse. He had nothing to drop but his tools and tripping was out of the question. He couldn't think of any way to respectfully wake his commander so he went to work on the command chair. Avery had followed the commlinks and knew the situation. His commander had every right to be tired. He hunkered down behind the command chair Chavik had thankfully left at bridge level. He slowly snipped wires and burned relays. He worked slowly and methodically; testing all the while. Chaviik's eyes popped open, "Ensign Avery, would you please explain to me exactly what you are doing?" Avery dropped his tools for sure this time. He had been positive Chavik had been asleep!"Umm, sir, just repairing the command chair sir.""I see," said Chavik, searching the functions of the VR link, "put that last link back if you would and then continue. This chair will be OEM when you finish will it not?""Yes Sir, most certainly sir," Avery responded nervously. "Good. Akira may be slightly upset but I would rather have OEM equipment than modified. Continue please," Chavik said as he closed his eyes once more. Avery said nothing yet bent to work. So many links had to be cut he wasn't sure he could get them all. He worked slowly and methodically checking each cut to be sure the original command links remained. He didn't even notice when Mother reported their location as the Den. He jumped again as Chavik stirred and rose. "As you were Ensign Avery, you've done well. It's time we delivered our other package to Rattler." Locke's Medical officer had stayed on staton and the both officers had been able to stabilize Akira. The transfer was touchy but went well. It always amazed Chavik that things done in emergencies were suddenly taboo oonce "standard" care had been initiated. Rattler listened with rapt attention as Chavik debriefed him on the procedures used to secure Akira. He was amazed the interview went so well. He had fully expected a small dressing down if not a large one but Rattler was so happy to have Akira back he glossed over Chavik's insubordination. It was definitely founded but some people did not like bucking the chain of command no matter what. Chavik was relieved. Rattler stood. "Chavik, I think it's time you got some rest. You and Locke have been at this longer than anyone save Akira. I'm giving both of you a seven day pass.""Well thank you sir, perhaps a working vacation? I noticed that new MK2 is ready in the shipyard. I'd like to take her on a shakedown cruise. I hear Polaris1 is really nice about this time," said Chavik.Rattler laughed, "Sure Chavik, go ahead but you be sure and rest. She has a commander but is unnamed as of yet. You can go as technical advisor and general inspector." Rattler responded to a beep on his comms unit and his brow furrowed as he read the message. Immediately he began tapping on the console. "Dismissed Chavik, full speed to Polaris1 and don't let anything stop you" said Rattler. Chavik turned and left with those taps echoing in his head.Chavik boarded the MK2 cruiser and greeted the crew and Commander. He explained his presence and gave the general directives of the mission. Everyone nodded sullenly. They knew as well as anyone else a shakedown cruise was a "milkrun" meant to pin down any faults in the system. Chavik paid them no mind and ordered the launch.The crew of the MK2 got them out of the Den somewhat shakily. Chavik almost grinned. All sims aside piloting a real Battle Cruiser was a whole different story. Immediately the crew noticed the tacscan menu. They had all been informed of current events and were wondering what TDF codes were doing in the tacscan. Chavik also noticed a strange flickering of those codes. Seems familiar, he thought. Not wanting to try out the defensive systems just yet Chavik suggested the backdoor to Polaris1. The new commander agreed. As they targeted the flux field Chavik suddenly remembered where he had seen those tappings before. "Halt," Chavik ordered."Jump sequence already initiated Commander Chavik," the Flight Officer reported.Damn, thought Chavik. "Ok this will work. As soon as we are near the jump gate I want us to cloak. We will simulate a jump but stay right here." I want to see what is going on with this. The normal engines slowed to zero to allow the hyperdrive engines to engage. As soon as the jump started they cloaked. Chavik grimaced. Green crew, it will have to do, he thought, hoping no one had noticed. Commander Chavik ICV Phoenix.--. .... --- . -. .. -..- / .-. .. ... .. -. --. / ..-. .-. --- -- / .- ... .... . ... -. . -..- - /
Rattler Posted February 19, 1999 Report Posted February 19, 1999 <RP> Rattler.."Ensign Abarnathay, I see that the Chief Communications Officer has left his post. Make a note of this into the Log, Please!" Now Son, it's every man's dream to be in the Right Place, at the Right Time in History. You get to Live and Make History, not Just Read about It. Ensign, Today YOU are that man. I assume that you are qualified to not only send and receive messages, but are FULLY qualified to conduct Transporter Ops as well?" Abarnathay..."Yes Sir, I am ready, willing, and Able Sir!"Rattler..."Good, Son!" Rattler slaps the young Ensign on the back, bolstering his confidence, and gaining his full attention. A trick that he learned so many years ago. It had served him well.Rattler..."Ensign, Now listen very carefully. I have transcribed a message in an ancient form of Communications on this pad. I want YOU, and YOU alone to transmit this message directly to the Transporter Room of Graf Spee. You are not to discuss this with another living Soul. Do You Read Me, Son?"Abarnathay...."Perfectly, Sir! You can count on ME, Sir!"Rattler instructed the Young Ensign to wait 10 minutes and transmit the message, then wait another 10 minutes and lock onto an ammomoly, such as a malfunctioning personal data recorder on the Graf Spee's Transporter Room. Additionally, he was to lock onto the closest TWO Life Signs to that person with the malfunction. His orders were to transport all three personnel directly into the Command Staff Briefing Room, The "Heart" of Spectre, where they would be met by "The Soul Of The Insurgency", Rattler! Abarnathay was shocked at the thought of this action, But, Rattler's word was LAW in the "Rattler's Den", and Low was the Man who failed to recognize this FACT! Abarnathay carefully examined the Data Pad, scanning the strange format that was before Him................. quote:. - . .-. -. .- .-.. / ... --- .-.. -.. .. . .-. ... / --..-- / / - .. -- . .-.. . ... ... / .-- .- .-. .-. .. --- .-. ... / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / .--- ..- ... - .--. .-.. .- .. -. / -- . -. / .... .- ...- . / --- -. . / - .... .. -. --. / .. -. / -.-. --- -- -- --- -. / .-.-.- / / - .... . -.-- / .- .-.. .-.. / .... .- ...- . / .- / -.-. .- ..- ... . / .-.-.- / / .-- .... . - .... . .-. / .. - / -... . / .--- ..- ... - / --..-- / / --- .-. / .- / -... .- ... .. -.-. / -- .. ... -.-. --- -. -.-. . .--. - .. --- -. / --- -. / - .... . .. .-. / .--. .- .-. - / .. ... / .-.. . ..-. - / ..-. --- .-. / .... .. ... - --- .-. -.-- / - --- / -.. . -.-. .. -.. . / .-.-.- // - --- -.. .- -.-- / --..-- / / .. / - .- -.- . / --. .-. . .- - / .-. .. ... -.- / .- - / . ...- . -. / .- .-.. .-.. --- .-- .. -. --. / -.-- --- ..- / - --- / -.-. --- -. - .. -. ..- . / - --- / . -..- .. ... - / .. -. / -- -.-- / ..- -. .. ...- . .-. ... . / .-.-.- / / .. / ... ..- .-. . / .... --- .--. . / - .... .- - / -.-- --- ..- / .- .-. . / .-- --- .-. - .... / - .... . / .-. .. ... -.- / .-.-.- / / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .. -. ... - .-. ..- -.-. - .. --- -. ... / .- .-. . / ... .. -- .--. .-.. . / .-.-.- / / - .- -.- . / -.-- --- ..- .-. / --. .- .-.. -.-. --- -- / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. . .-. / / .--. .. -. / .- -. -.. / .--. .. . .-. -.-. . / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .--. . .-. ... --- -. .- .-.. / -.. .- - .- / .--. .- -.. / .-.-.- / / .-.. . .- ...- . / - .... . / .--. .. -. / .. -. / - .... . / .--. .- -.. / .-.-.- / / -.-. .- .-.. .-.. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .--. . .-. ... --- -. .- .-.. / / .- - - .- -.-. .... . / ... / / - --- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .. -.. . / .- ... / - --- / -.-. --- -. ... ..- .-.. - / .-- .. - .... / - .... . -- / .-.-.- / / -.- . . .--. / - .... . -- / - .... . .-. . / .- -. -.. / -.. --- / -. --- - / .-.. . - / - .... . -- / .-.. . .- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .. -.. . / .-.-.- / / / .. / .-.. .-.. / ... . . / -.-- --- ..- / ... --- --- -. / . -. --- ..- --. .... / --..-- / / / -.-- --- ..- -. --. / .-- .- .-. .-. .. --- .-. / / .-.-.- / / ... - .- -.-- /.. -. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / - .-. .- -. ... .--. --- - .-. . .-. / .-. --- --- -- .-.-.- / -- .- -.- . / .- -. -.-- / -.-. --- -- -- .- -. -.. / -.. . .-.. . --. .- - .. --- -. ... .- ... / -.-- --- ..- / -. . . -.. / --..-- / / -... ..- - / -.. --- / -. --- - / - .. .--. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .... .- -. -.. / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / -.. --- / -. --- - / .- - - . -- .--. - / - --- / - .-. .- -. ... -- .. - / -- . ... ... .- --. . ... / ..-. .-. --- -- / - .... .. ... / -- --- -- . -. - / --- -. / .-.-.- / ..- -. -.. . .-. ... - --- --- -.. / ..-. . .- .-. / -. --- - / - .... .. ... / .-- .. - -.-. .... .. -. --. / .... --- ..- .-. / --..-- / / ..-. --- .-. / / - .. ... / --- -. .-.. -.-- / ... .--. . -.-. - .-. . / - .... .- - / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / ...- . -. - ..- .-. . / .. -. - --- / - .... .. ... / -- .. ... - / .-.-.- / / ... .--. . -.-. - .-. . .-- . .-.. -.-. --- -- . ... / -.-- --- ..- / .. -. - --- / .. - / ... / .- .-. -- ... / --..-- / / . -..- .- -- .. -. . ... / - .... . / .--. ..- .-. .. - -.-- --- ..-. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... --- ..- .-.. / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / - .... . -. / .. ..-. / ..-. .. -. -.. .. -. --. / - .-. . .- -.-. .... . .-. -.-- / --..-- / / ... .... .- .-.. .-.. ... .... .- .-.. .-.. / -.-. .-. ..- ... .... / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .... . .- .-. - / .-.-.- / / -. --- .-- / -.-. --- -- . / --..-- / / .. ..-. / -.-- --- ..- / -- ..- ... - / .-.-.- / .-. .- - - .-.. . .-. Rattler had hurried to the Command Staff Briefing Room, making all preparations to recieve his Visitors. He had Four Sharpshooters, all in Akira's Experimental Personnel Cloaking Devices, stationed around the room. Their orders were simple as well. If required, Shoot to Kill. Additionally, he had Five others directly outside the room, Standing By. Now He was ready. For what, He knew Not! But he knew he was ready, Just the Same.At that moment in time, The Young Ensign Abarnathay was transmitting the antiquated message, and had begun the countdown to Zero. In Ten Minutes, He would activate the Transporter.</RP>--- -.- / .- -.- .. .-. .- / --..-- / / .- ... / -.-- --- ..- / .-- .. ... .... . -.. / --..-- / / .... . / ... / .- -... --- ..- - / - --- / . -. - . .-. / - .... . / -.. . -. / --..-- / / .. -. - --- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / -.-. .... --- ... . -. -- . . - .. -. --. / .--. .-.. .- -.-. . / .-.-.- / / -. --- .-- / --. . - / .-. . .- -.. -.-- / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / .-- .- .-. -- / - .... .- - / -.- . -.-- -... --- .- .-. -.. / ..- .--. / / -- .. .- / .- -- .. --. --- / ------------------ Rattler, Spectre, Insurgent One Official BC3K Tester [email protected] ICQ 12894104[This message has been edited by Rattler (edited 02-20-99).]
Guest Posted February 19, 1999 Report Posted February 19, 1999 .- ... - . .-. .. ... -.- / --. / .-. / .. / -. / .- ... - . .-. .. ... -.- - .-. .- -. ... .-.. .- - . / - .... .- - / --..-- / / -- -.-- / ..-. .-. .. . -. -.. ... ..-. --- .-. / .-- .... . -. / - .... . / -.-. --- -.-. -.- / -.. --- - .... / -.-. .-. --- .-- / - .... .-. . . / - .. -- . ... / --..-- / / - .... --- ..- / ... .... .- .-.. - / -.. .. ... -.-. --- ...- . .-. / - .... . / -- . .- -. .. -. --. / -... . .... .. -. -.. / --. .- .-.. -.-. --- -- / ... / -... . - .-. .- -.-- .- .-.. -.. --- / -.-- --- ..- / .... .- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- .-. / - .... .. .-. - -.-- / .--. .. . -.-. . ... / --- ..-. / ... .. .-.. ...- . .-. / --..-- / / --. .- .-.. .-.. .. --- -. / ..-. --- .-. / --- ..- .-. / --. --- -.. / .. ... / .- / ...- . -. --. . ..-. ..- .-.. / --. --- -.. / .-.-.- / / .- -. -.. / -.-- . .- / --..-- / / .... . / .. ... / .- / --. --- -.. / --- ..-. / ..-. .. .-. . / .- -. -.. / .- -. --. . .-. / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / . ...- . -. / ..- -. - --- / .- / --. --- -.. / --- ..-. / -.-. .-. ..- . .-.. - -.-- / .-.-.- / / ..-. --- .-. / .... . / .... .- - .... / -- .- -.. . / ..- ... / ..-. .-.. .- .-- . -.. / --..-- / / .. -. / .... .. ... / .. -- .- --. . / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / .... . / .... .- - .... / .... .. -.. -.. . -. / - .... . / .-.. ..- .-. . / --- ..-. .--. . .-. ..-. . -.-. - .. --- -. / .. -. / --- ..- .-. / --. .-. .- ... .--. / --..-- / / - .... .- - / .-- . / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / -... .-. .. -. --. / -.. --- .-- -. / - .... . / ..-. .. -. .- .-.. / ..-. .. . .-. -.-- / .- .-. -- .- --. . -.. -.. --- -. / --- -. / --- ..- .-. / --- .-- -. / .... . .- -.. ... / .. -. / ... - .-. .. ...- .. -. --. / - --- / .-. . .- -.-. .... / --- ..- .-. / -.. . ... - .. -. -.-- ... . .-. ...- . / .-- .. - .... / .... --- -. --- ..- .-. / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / / -....- / -.-. --- -- -- .- -. -.. . .-. / -.. . ... -.-- .-.. ...- .- --. -.-. ...- / ..-. .. .-. ... - / .-.. .. --. .... - / .. ... ... / / / / -....- / / / -....- / / .. ... ... / ..-. .-.. . . - / -.-. --- --- .-. -.. .. -. .- - --- .-. .-- .-- .-- / .-.-.- / --. . --- -.-. .. - .. . ... / .-.-.- / -.-. --- -- / - .. -- . ... ... --.- ..- .- .-. . / .- .-. . -. .- / / / / / / .. ... ... / / --- ..-. ..-. .. -.-. .. .- .-.. / -... -.-. / -.- / - . ... - . .-. / .- -. -.. / -... .-.. .. -. -.. / -- .- -. / .-- .. - .... / ... .-.. . . ...- . ... / .- .-- .- .-. -.. / .-- .. -. -. . .-. / ... . .-. ...- . / / -....- / / .-- .. - .... / .... --- -. --- ..- .-. / .-.-.- / /
Gallion Posted February 19, 1999 Author Report Posted February 19, 1999 <rp> The Grovel Comms: ÔÇ£Incoming message Commander from Spectre!ÔÇØ Gallion: ÔÇ£Route it to me in the transporter room Lt.ÔÇØ Comms: ÔÇ£Aye Sir.... Message sent.ÔÇØGallion read the message just received from the Insurgent Starstation Spectre. After erasing the message, he motioned to his attaches to move closer. So much for proving my case, Gallion thought as he removed his Galcom pin and stuck it into his datapad.Gallion: ÔÇ£Chief, deactivate the WingÔÇÖs the IFF codes and revert back to Galcom IFF. Do not reactivate them until either I return or the allotted time has expired.ÔÇØ Chief Engineer: ÔÇ£Aye Sir!Action without risk is akin to no action at all. Risk is what a Commander must take. Gallion wondered if the benefits would be worth the risk he is taking. I hope that there arenÔÇÖt anymore stray bucks out there, Gallion thought ... bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzThe Time Fourteen Passed Midnight, well into the Witching Hour <rp/> .... . / .-- .. - .... --- ..- - / ... .. -. / ... .... .- .-.. .-.. / -.-. .- ... - . / - .... . / ..-. .. .-. ... - / ... - --- -. . ..-. --- ..- -. -.. / .- / ..-. . .- - .... . .-. / --- -. / - .... . / ..-. .-.. --- --- .-. / --. .-. .. -. / ..-. --- .-.. .-.. --- .-- / .- .-.. --- -. --. / .. ... ... / -.-. --- --- .-. -.. .. -. .- - --- .-. / .- -. -.. / ... . . / .-- .... .- - / -- .- -.-- / -... . / - ..- .-. -. . -.. / --- .-. / ..- -. - ..- .-. -. -. --- .-- / .- -.- .. .-. .------------------- Cmdr Gallion GCV-Graf Spee, Corsair Wing Wraith Fleet[This message has been edited by Gallion (edited 02-19-99).]
Rattler Posted February 19, 1999 Report Posted February 19, 1999 The Room filled with semi-static, charged with the incomming ions of Rattler's newest visitors. Rattler knew what was happening before he even saw the first signs of the Transportation. He had experienced this personally, thousands of times, and it was never pleasant to him. Something Vile about scrambling ones molecules, just to move them to another point in space and have them put back together again. Now if it could be done to place one in another point in TIME, then THAT would be another story.Rattler...."Gentlemen, Stand Ready! Our Guests are approaching. Remember your orders. Most importantly, remember your targets!"As the Images before Ratter materialized, It was the Commander's eyes that caught Ratter's attention First. They were the eyes of a Falcon, A true Hunter. There would be truth in these eyes, and it would be easy for Rattler to read these eyes. The proud owner of them Could not/Would not give false witness. This was going to be quite pleasant, or it would seem, Rattler surmised. Rattler also noted the name of the Commander, Pristinely displayed on his Flight Suit. "Gallion." Additionally he noticed his Fleet Emblem. 'Wraith, Corsair Wing".Rattler...."Gentlemen, Welcome to 'The Rattler's Den', and to what do I owe this pleasure? This is a story I must hear. It's gotta be pretty important for you to have jeopradized your ships for. Now let's hear it!"</RP> --. .- .-.. .-.. .. --- -. / --..-- / / -.-- --- ..- / .-. . / .. -. / .-.-.- / / / .- -.- .. .-. .- / --..-- / / - .. -- . / ..-. --- .-. / ... .-.. . . .--. .. -. --. / -... . .- ..- - -.-- - --- / .-- .- -.- . / ..- .--. / .-.-.- / / -.-- --- ..- / .-. . / - ..- .-. -. / -. --- .-- / .-.-.- / ------------------ Rattler, Spectre, Insurgent One Official BC3K Tester [email protected] ICQ 12894104
Guest Ron Wallin Posted February 19, 1999 Report Posted February 19, 1999 I'm back <rp> Fuzzy squares, circles, triangles, and blue green rectangles slowly came to focus. Akira forced his mind clear while he was careful not to open his eyes more than a sliver. The fewer people that knew he was awake the better. Painfully and only a centimeter at a time he rotated his head toward the blue screen. Heart rate, blood pressure and EMG all seemed normal, but that wasn't what concerned Akira. It was clear to him that he was in an ICU, but where. The room was soft white from top to bottom and aside from his dark blue jumpsuit and black boots on a chair to his left there were no markings of any kind. EarthCOM, he thought, they somehow followed me, but why... His couldn't think clearly. Only bits of images lingered where he could grab them. An explosion, racing toward a Gammulan ship, a cargo pod and the overwhelming sense that the cargo was more important than his life. The cargo! That's why they have me, but what was important about a Gammulan cargo pod.Data rushed through his mind stampeding its way through his synapses. Akira bit down on the inside of his bottom lip. The warm, metallic liquid oozed its way through the gaps in his teeth and the resulting pain seemed to slow the onslaught of images. He watched and became aware of why he wasn't supposed to be captured, ever. Akira fought to wrestle his mind down to a calm state. Fortunately there was no one in the room with him. He slid his hand up to the display and pressed the quiet button.After a few minutes of tinkering he was able to rig a feedback loop into the medical sensors. Whoever was watching would see nothing more than a small hiccup in the screen and then all normal. He slid himself off the bed and stumbled toward his flight suit. I'm going to have to get used to this quick, he thought. Two more steps and an unbalanced clothing later he was ready to go. Only his head wasn't all too ready for the trip.Akira fell straight to his knees. His stomach muscles wrenched tight. The vomiting produced nothing more than a wrenching headache. Akira welcomed the pain as it cleared his head just enough for him to stand and move toward the door. His hand went for the panel but the door opened before he could touch it. Akira's body tensed as he waited for the inevitable greeting of the guard's fist. No one was there. The hallway was dimmed and it didn't seem anyone had been there for a while. After waiting a few minutes for the guard or nurse that never arrived, Akira stepped into the corridor. Akira used the florescent direction arrows on the walls. A few close calls, and many turns later he found his way out an exit in what he thought was the back of the medical ward. Instead of an exit, Akira found the back entrance to what appeared to be the officers offices. Only dim directional lights along the halls lit the space but it was enough. Akira looked at the name plaques on the doors. One of these offices will belong to a high-ranking type with outside access, he thought. A few minutes of quiet searching led him to his goal. Command Staff Officers Only glared at him from the doorway. Something was familiar about the entrance but the moment he tried pinpoint the memory, his body went slack again. The dizziness wasn't as bad this time. Instead of the gut wrenching violence, the cool surface of the floor brought his spinning brain back on track. Akira slowly rose to his knees. The door's access pad stared back at him blinking in defiance of his needs."These door codes are so easy to crack, I really wish they'd upgrade," a voice in his mind spoke from the darkness. It took him a minute, but Akira finally realized it was his own voice. Calmed by the awareness he reached for the access pad. The door slid open before his hand had a chance to press the actuator. "If this is any indication of their security I should be able to walk right out of hear!" The voice was his, but seemed to come from a place deep in the back of his mind. It was a foreign thought somehow detached from the strained concentration keeping him steady. I don't have time to worry about this, he thought. Comforted by his ability to consciously formulate a thought he crawled through the doorway into the pitch-black office."Lights," he whispered. Slowly, recessed lights around the perimeter of the room flickered to life. The light bounced from the white ceiling and poured onto the room. But it wasn't an office. It was a conference room. A large, dark wood oval table filled the length of the room. Just enough space was left for the high backed leather office chairs to completely move away and allow a person to sit without having to spin. But the furniture was secondary to the real purpose of the room.Akira recognized, how he couldn't say yet, the holoprojectors recessed in the center of the table. Those lucky enough to sit in the chairs would have an unrestricted view of a virtual rectangular panel that would span the length of the table. More importantly to Akira, though, were the access panels located at each station. He moved to the back of the room and sat. The chair molded itself to his body and the access panel raised itself slightly. Akira moved his hand to power on the panel, but once again the system seemed to anticipate his move. The small screen sprang to life. Something was wrong about these devices. He couldn't say exactly what, but he knew that doors and access panels weren't supposed to activate without input. He didn't have time to think about it.The lights in the room flashed and everything was washed white. The color crashed back into his mind, but it wasn't the office. The bronze plate below the viewscreen zoomed to fill his vision. ICV-Nevermore. He felt he should know that name. His ship! He was on his ship. This was his Battlecruiser. But I was in a conference room, he thought. How did I get here so fast? Teleportation. I must have triggered a failsafe! He spun around to his command chair and started to take his rightful place on the bridge.Only he wasn't attached to a body. He thought again and sped across the bridge to the TacOps station. The edgy quality of his surroundings sparked a memory. VR, he thought, somehow I've accessed the VR interface, but I'm in an office on an EarthCOM starstation. A white ball floated through the bulkhead toward him. The white light engulfed him and he was again in the conference room. For a second everything was clear, he knew the past the present and much of the future, but for only a second. The stream of images, numbers, text slammed into his head and sent him to the floor."Lights off," he strained as his body forced him onto the floor. The darkness helped but it was not enough. He could clearly see the information as it invaded his mind. Worried that he'd be found, Akira pulled himself under the desk and pulled the chair up so that it appeared just as it had when he firs arrived. That was the last of the strength his body could muster. Ten seconds later his system produced enough dopamine to dull everything. He passed out curled up in a ball underneath the desk. </rp>No wait there's more Cmdr. Akira
Guest Ron Wallin Posted February 19, 1999 Report Posted February 19, 1999 DeSylva, in your morse code above, whre you equating GALCOM with Jesus Christ and Gallion with Judas?<rp> A flash of light, buzzing, muffled voices. Akira tried but couldn't open his eyes. Half asleep, Akira fought his urge to shake himself awake. Instead, he concentrated on pulling himself out of the fog that controlled him. But his eyes just didn't want to open and he wasn't too sure anymore if this wasn't merely a dream. Dream or not, he knew that something dangerous was happening so he relaxed and tried to make sense of the words and sounds passing before his mind's eye.There were eight people in the room--his dream--but only two were speaking. Two were in the classic dress uniform of the Galactic Command. Across a desk was another in a simple black flight suit. What troubled Akira the most though were the five positioned around the room. He knew they were there, could feel their eyes trained on the people at the desk. But he couldn't make out anything else.The five were faceless beings, holding small firearms. Their movements were minimal and their breathing constant. It must be a dream, Akira thought. Those are angels or demons watching as some poor soul was being interrogated. But this is an EarthCOM base, he told his dream. Why would GALCOM officers be interested in EarthCOM prisoners? Akira couldn't grasp what this dream was telling him but he didn't care. His eyes were less heavy now and he knew that he'd be fully awake any moment. Deep inside he hoped that this was all a dream. Something even deeper told him it wasn't.Fifteen minutes passed. The voices became clearer and he was able to open his eyes now. The buzz inside his head was still there, but not as bad as earlier. Akira twisted his head, careful not to move anything else. Two sets of blue pants and black boots across from a black flight suit and snakeskin boots. The boots threw him for a second. Then he realized who it was.That's why GALCOM is here, he thought. Somehow they've captured him and everyone is going to get their pound of flesh! Akira, careful not to make a sound, twisted around for a better view. No sign of the five beings, but the three others sat where he'd envisioned them. Akira closed his eyes trying to remember the exact location of the five spirits. They were still there. The buzzing in his mind increased and his mental picture came into focus. Those five weren't spirits! They were humans in some type of special suit. Startled by the clarity of the image and the realization that none of it was a dream, Akira forced his eyes open. The buzzing was getting stronger. Only a few minutes before I lose control again. I've got to do something to get him out of here, he thought.Akira instinctively grabbed at two finger-sized rings positioned in the left armpit of his flight suit. The rings came loose from the few threads holding them in place. He placed one ring on each middle finger. His mind caught up to his actions and he stared at the metal line connected between the rings. His mission was clear.He positioned himself in front of the GALCOM officer making the most noise. Akira changed to a crouching position and placed his back to the upper part of the desk. He paused for a moment. The buzzing was coming in waves now. Got to do it now, he thought.Akira's legs exploded upward. The desk launched toward the prisoner providing the man with the snakeskin boots some protection. In the same moment, Akira shifted his motion forward. His hands spread and the wire wrapped around the GALCOM officer's neck. Akira flowed with his momentum, lifted his right elbow while he lifted his prisoner up from the chair. He felt the crunch of cartilage and bone as his elbow met its mark. The sentry's suit lost power as the man dropped to the floor. Akira swung his prisoner like a rag doll. The man's boots connected with the sentry in the corner and sent him to the floor with a loud thump. Akira followed the action and placed himself against the corner of the wall with his prisoner in front as a shield."Lights," he yelled. The room was instantly dark. "Any of you EarthCOM personnel move and this Commander dies!" Akira let out a small whimper as another buzzing wave burrowed into his skull. With obvious stress in his voice, "Rattler, get out of here now. My ship is in the docking bay. Take her and go home while you can!""Lights," Rattler replied. The lights shone on the chaos within the room. The second GALCOM person was sitting, dumbfounded, as his head twitched between Akira's prisoner and the man bleeding on the floor. Rattler had a stern look on his face that Akira didn't understand.Perhaps, he knows of the other three sentries. Akira couldn't see them, but he knew where they were and where their weapons were pointing. "Rattler walk slowly toward the door and get out of here." Rattler didn't move, he just looked at Akira with a question on his face. Akira didn't have time for this. He could feel the next wave of pain building much as it had before he'd passed out. "I can't hold this for long..." The pain was beginning its trek across his mind.In a strained whisper, "Please, Rattler, leave now. I can't hold him for much longer...Go!" He shouted. Akira watched as the spittle leapt from his mouth and landed on the overturned desk. "Too late," he whispered. Akira dropped the rings and grabbed his head. He opened his mouth to scream. Nothing but a whistle of stressed air escaped his mouth. I'm sorry, Rattler, I failed, he thought as the pain stole his consciousness again.It was over. The blackness enveloped him and what part of his mind was still sane knew he would be dead soon. </rp> Hmm...thought I'd say something witty in this morse code that seems to be the rage. But then I decided I could type legible text much faster.Cmdr. Akira
Gallion Posted February 19, 1999 Author Report Posted February 19, 1999 Sidebar --- That is how I interpreted DeSylva's post Akira ... with a little help from a friend that is [This message has been edited by Gallion (edited 02-19-99).]
Guest Posted February 19, 1999 Report Posted February 19, 1999 *laugh* What I meant to imply is that there is a double betrayer going on here. Someone has betrayed GALCOM in sabotaging the codes, and Gallion is considering betraying them to try and find the betrayer. I didn't actually mean to compare GALCOM with Jesus - that was unintentional and obviously flawed! *grin*.No - another group is playing God in all of this... ------------------ 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."
Gallion Posted February 20, 1999 Author Report Posted February 20, 1999 -- -.-- / -. . -.-. -.- / .... ..- .-. - ... / .- -.- .. .-. .- <rp> The Parlance The image of the Graf SpeeÔÇÖs transporter room faded away and replaced by the images of a room on the Insurgent Starstation Spectre. Across a large black table sat a man in a black one-piece spacer-suit. Gallion was not worried about what may or may not be behind him. That is what Gunny York and his marine was for; to watch his back. Gallion looked at both the man and the room around him. He took in both the man across the table and the attire he wore. The manÔÇÖs attire was non-discrete, standard spacer issue black one-piece with an overly large belt buckle but nothing else. His attire was not adorned with insignia, name, or other regalia that would identify him. What intrigued Gallion the most were this manÔÇÖs eyes. A personÔÇÖs eyes are the gateway to their soul and are the one part of the Terran body that cannot lie. The tongue may be slick and smooth, the smile seems genuine, but the eyes will never bear falsehood or untruth. The man not only met GallionÔÇÖs gaze, but also maintained it without flinching; buzzzzzzzzzzz.Gallion knew that this man was Insurgent One, the Rattler, the man responsible for organizing the once ragtag Insurgency into an effective, disciplined, and organized force to be reckoned with in the Galaxy. The quasi-battle of wills was broken between the two when The Rattler broke the silence with his calm, firm, and confident voice.Rattler / --. . -. - .-.. . -- . -. / --..-- / / .-- . .-.. -.-. --- -- . / - --- / / - .... . / .-. .- - - .-.. . .-. / ... / -.. . -. / / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / - --- / .-- .... .- - / -.. --- / .. / --- .-- . / - .... .. ... / .--. .-.. . .- ... ..- .-. . / / / - .... .. ... / .. ... / .- / ... - --- .-. -.-- / .. / -- ..- ... - / .... . .- .-. / .-.-.- / / / .. - / ... / --. --- - - .- / -... . / .--. .-. . - - -.-- / .. -- .--. --- .-. - .- -. - / ..-. --- .-. / -.-- --- ..- / - --- / .... .- ...- . / .--- . --- .--. .- .-. -.. .. --.. . -.. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .... .. .--. ... / ..-. --- .-. / .-.-.- / / / -. --- .-- / .-.. . - / ... / .... . .- .-. / .. - / ..--.. / / Gallion: .. / .- .--. .--. .-. . -.-. .. .- - . / -.-- --- ..- .-. / - .. -- . / --..-- / / .. -. -.. ..- .-.. --. . -. -.-. . / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / -.-- . ... / -- -.-- / .--. .-.. .. --. .... - / .. ... / .. -- .--. --- .-. - .- -. - / .-.-.- / / / .. / .- -- / .. -. / ... . .- .-. -.-. .... / --- ..-. / .. -. ..-. --- .-. -- .- - .. --- -. / .-.-.- / / / .. -. ..-. --- .-. -- .- - .. --- -. / - .... .- - / --- -. .-.. -.-- / -.-- --- ..- / -- .- -.-- / .--. .-. --- ...- .. -.. . / .-.-.- / / / .-.. . - / -- . / - .-. -.-- / - --- / . -..- .--. .-.. .- .. -. / .-.-.- / / Without waiting for The RattlerÔÇÖs response, Gallion moved towards the black table and activated the holoprojector controls located in front of him. He brought up the galactic Navchart and began his story. Gallion recounted the perils and exploits that Corsair Wing suffered and endured since deployed to Gammulan space when the Gammulans invaded Sol. Gallion said more than he intended to The Rattler. He did not know exactly why but it seemed to be the right thing to do, buzzzzzzzzzzz. Rattler leaned back into his chair and listened without comment or visible expression to GallionÔÇÖs tirade. That is until Gallion began explaining the Wing's TDF IFF Code Module sabotage.Taken aback by the abruptness, and direct "frontal assault" going on before him, Rattler could only watch and listen. This Commander had taken charge of the situation, and all Rattler could muster was -.-. --- -. - .. -. ..- . / --..-- / / --. .- .-.. .-.. .. --- -. / --..-- / / .. ..-. / -.-- --- ..- / .... .- ...- . / .- / .--. --- .. -. - / - --- / -- .- -.- . / .... . .-. . / .-.-.- / / / -.-- --- ..- / .... .- ...- . / -- -.-- / .- - - . -. - .. --- -. / --..-- / / -.. --- -. / - / ... --.- ..- .- -. -.. . .-. / .. - / ..--.. / / Gallion: ÔÇ£... we have isolated the possible source of the TDF IFF Code module sabotage down to two areas: One: Wraith-HQ may possibly be compromised and infiltrated. By who or whom is unknown. Two: The TDF IFF Code module transmission was intercepted; altered; and re-transmitted to Wraith-HQ, again by who or whom is unknown. Point of interception has been narrowed down to within this circle of systems on the Navchart.ÔÇØ buzzzzzzzzRattler: .. / ... - .. .-.. .-.. / -.. --- / -. --- - / ... . . / .... --- .-- / - .... .. ... / . ..-. ..-. . -.-. - ... / -- . / --- .-. / - .... . / .. -. ... ..- .-. --. . -. -.-. -.-- / .-.-.- / / / .. ..-. / - .... .. ... / .. ... / .- .-.. .-.. / - .... .- - / -.-- --- ..- / .... .- ...- . / --. --- - / --- .-. / - --- / ... .- -.-- / - .... . -. / -.-- --- ..- / .-- .- ... - . -.. / -. --- - / --- -. .-.. -.-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / - .. -- . / -... ..- - / .- .-.. ... --- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .... .. .--. ... / .- -. -.. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .-.. .. / Gallion adjusted the holoprojector controls and a red circle appeared within the holo-display hovering over the table of the room. The epicenter of this red circle was Antis/Trenis, home system of Spectre, and the Insurgency.Rattler: / .. -- .--. --- ... ... .. -... .-.. . / ..--.. / / / -. --- -. . / --- ..-. / ... .--. . -.-. - .-. . / .-- .- ... / . ...- . -. / .. -. / - .... .. ... / --.- ..- .- -.. .-. .- -. - / -.. ..- .-. .. -. --. / - .... .. ... / - .. -- . / .-.-.- / / / .. / -.-. .- -. / .--. . .-. ... --- -. .- .-.. .-.. -.-- / ...- --- ..- -.-. .... / ..-. --- .-. / .- .-.. .-.. / --- ..-. / -- -.-- / -.-. --- -- -- .- -. -.. . .-. ... / --..-- / / ... .- ...- . / --- -. . / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / .... . / .... .- -.. / -- --- .-. . / .--. .-. . ... ... .. -. --. / -- .- - - . .-. ... / . .-.. ... . .-- .... . .-. . / .-.-.- / / / .. / .-.. .-.. / --. ..- .- .-. .- -. - . . / - .... .- - / .. - / .-- .- ... / -. --- - / .- -. / .. -. ... ..- .-. --. . -. - / - .... .- - / -.-. .- ..- ... . -.. / - .... .. ... / ..--.. / / Rattler's Personal Communicator chirped and announced an arrival of yet another New Member to the Insurgency. Commander Echo, of the Ship "Persephone" Requesting Permission to Join the Insurgency, and Docking Clearance for needed Repairs Permission Granted to Join the Insurgency, Commander. From this moment one, you carry the Title of Insurgent, and Your Ship shall be known as ICV Persephone. Do Her Proud, Commander. Proceed to Docking Bay 2 for Final Clearances to Dock. Rattler.... Out! See what I mean Commander Gallion. Commander Echo's Crossed The Line Now. No way back, but I doubt that She would want to return anyway.Gallion: .. / .- -- / -. --- - / .. -- .--. .-.. -.-- .. -. --. / - .... .- - / - .... . / .. -. ... ..- .-. --. . -. -.-. -.-- / -. --- .-. / .- -- / .. / .. -- .--. .-.. .. -.-. .- - .. -. --. / - .... . -- / .- ... / -... . .. -. --. / .-. . ... .--. --- -. ... .. -... .-.. . / ..-. --- .-. / - .... . / .. ..-. ..-. / -.-. --- -.. . / ... .- -... --- - .- --. . / --..-- / / -.-- --- ..- / .- -. -.. / - .... . -.-- / .-- . .-. . / .- - / ... --- .-.. ..-. .. --. .... - .. -. --. / - .... . / --. .- -- -- ... / .- -. -.. / -.. -.-- .. -. --. / .-.. .. -.- . / - .... . / .-. . ... - / --- ..-. / --. .- .-.. -.-. --- -- / .-- .- ... / .-.-.- / / / .. / .- -- / --- -. / .- / -- .. ... ... .. --- -. / .-.-.- / / / -- -.-- / -- .. ... ... .. --- -. / .. ... / - --- / ..-. .. -. -.. / - .... . / .--. . .-. .--. . - .-. .- - --- .-. ... / --..-- / / -... -.-- / .- -. -.-- / -- . .- -. ... / .- - / -- -.-- / -.. .. ... .--. --- ... .- .-.. / .-.-.- / / Rattler: / ... --- / .-- .... -.-- / -.-. --- -- . / .... . .-. . / / / .-- .... -.-- / -. --- - / ..- ... . / --. .- .-.. -.-. --- -- / ... / .- ... ... . - ... / / Gallion: -... . -.-. .- ..- ... . -... . -.-. .- ..- ... . .. Gallion could not finish what he was about to say. The confidence he had seemed to waiver and drain away when The Rattler asked him two simple questions that any academy cadet could answer without hesitation.Rattler: -... . -.-. .- ..- ... . / -.-- --- ..- / -.-. .- -. -. --- - / - .-. ..- ... - / --. .- .-.. -.-. --- -- / --- .-. / --. .- .-.. -.-. --- -- / ... / -.-. .-. --- -. .. . ... / .- -. -.-- -- --- .-. . / / .-.-.- / / .-.-.- / / .-.-.- / / .-. .. --. .... - / / / .. -. / .- -.. -.. .. - .. --- -. / --..-- / / -.-- --- ..- .-. / -- .. ... ... .. --- -. / .. ... / -. --- - / ... .- -. -.-. - .. --- -. . -.. / .. ... / .. - / / / .. / ... . . -- / - --- / .-. . -- . -- -... . .-. / .- / -.-- --- ..- -. --. / -.-. --- -- -- .- -. -.. . .-. / --..-- / / -.. .. ... . -. -.-. .... .- -. - . -.. / .- ... / -.-- --- ..- / -. --- .-- / .- .-. . --- -. -.-. . / ..--.. / / .... .. ... / ... ..- .--. . .-. .. --- .-. ... / .-- . .-. . / .- .-.. ... --- / .. .-.. .-.. / -.-. --- -. -.-. . .. ...- . -.. / --..-- / / -... .- -.. / - . -- .--. . .-. . -.. / / --. . -. - .-.. . -- . -. / / .- .-.. ... --- / .-.-.- / / - .... . -.-- / ... . -. - / .... .. -- / --- -. / .- / / -.. . . .--. / ... .--. .- -.-. . / .--. . -. . - .-. .- - .. --- -. / / -- .. ... ... .. --- -. / - --- / --. .- -- -- ..- .-.. .- -. / ... .--. .- -.-. . / .- ... / .-- . .-.. .-.. / .-.-.- / / .- ..-. - . .-. / .- -.-. .... .. . ...- .. -. --. / .... .. ... / --- -... .--- . -.-. - .. ...- . ... / .- -. -.. / .-. . - ..- .-. -. .. -. --. / .... --- -- . / .-- .. - .... / / ..- -. -.. . -. .. .- -... .-.. . / / .--. .-. --- --- ..-. / / - .... .- - / - .... . / --. .- -- -- ..- .-.. .- -. ... / .-- . .-. . / ... ..- .--. . .-. .. --- .-. / .. -. / - . -.-. .... -. .. -.-. .- .-.. / -.. . ...- . .-.. --- .--. -- . -. - / --..-- / / .... . / .-- .- ... / -... .-. .- -. -.. . -.. / .- / / .--. .. .-. .- - . / / --..-- / / / ... -- ..- --. --. .-.. . .-. / / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / .... .- -.. / -. --- / .-. . -.-. --- ..- .-. ... . / -... ..- - / - --- / / -.. .. ... ... --- .-.. ...- . / / .... .. ... / .- ..-. ..-. .. .-.. .. .- - .. --- -. / .-- .. - .... / --. .- .-.. -.-. --- -- / .- -. -.. / .. - / ... / .- ... ... --- -.-. .. .- - . ... / .-.-.- / / .. / -... . .- .-. / -. --- / .. .-.. .-.. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / - --- / --. .- .-.. -.-. --- -- / --..-- / / .. - ... . .-.. ..-. / --..-- / / -... ..- - / .. / .... .- .-. -... --- .-. / -.. . . .--. / .-. .- --. . / - --- .-- .- .-. -.. ... / . .- .-. - .... -.-. --- -- / .- -. -.. / - .... . / .. -. ... .- -. .. - -.-- / - .... .- - / -.. .-- . .-.. .-.. ... / - .... . .-. . .. -. / .-.-.- / / -.. --- . ... / - .... .. ... / .-. .. -. --. / .- / -... . .-.. .-.. / .-- .. - .... / -.-- --- ..- / -.-. --- -- -- .- -. -.. . .-. / --. .- .-.. .-.. .. --- -. / / .-- .... -.-- / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / ... --- -- . --- -. . / .-- .. - .... / -.-- --- ..- .-. / --- -... ...- .. --- ..- ... / ... -.- .. .-.. .-.. ... / -... . / ... . -. - / --- -. / .- / ... ..- .. -.-. .. -.. . / -- .. ... ... .. --- -. / --..-- / / ..- -. .-.. . ... ... / .. - / .-- .- ... / . -..- .--. . -.-. - . -.. / - .... .- - / -.-- --- ..- / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / --. . - / - .... . / .. -. ..-. --- .-. -- .- - .. --- -. / - .... .- - / - .... . -.-- / ... . -. - / -.-- --- ..- / .- ..-. - . .-. / --..-- / / - .-. .- -. ... -- .. - / - .... .. ... / -.. .- - .- / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / -.-. . .- ... . / - --- / . -..- .. ... - / - .... . .-. . .- ..-. - . .-. / / / . ...- . .-. / .-- --- -. -.. . .-. / .-- .... -.-- / .- .-.. .-.. / - .... --- ... . / ... .... .. .--. ... / .-- . .-. . / .-- .... . .-. . / -.-- --- ..- / .-.. . .- ... - / . -..- .--. . -.-. - . -.. / - .... . -- / / . ...- . .-. / .-- --- -. -.. . .-. / .--- ..- ... - / .... --- .-- / - .... . -.-- / ... . . -- . -.. / - --- / -.- -. --- .-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / . ...- . .-. -.-- / -- --- ...- . / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / -... . / - .... . -.-- / .-. . / .-- .- .. - .. -. --. / ..-. --- .-. / -.-- --- ..- / .-- .... . -. / -.-- --- ..- / -.-. .- -- . / --- ..- - / --- ..-. / .... -.-- .--. . .-. / / - .... .. -. -.- / -.-. --- -- -- .- -. -.. . .-. / --..-- / / - .... .. -. -.- / ..-. --- .-. / -.-- --- ..- .-. ... . .-.. ..-. / - .... .. ... / --- -. . / - .. -- . / .-.-.- / / .. - / ... / --. --- .. -. --. / - --- / ... .- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .-.. .. ..-. . / ..--.. / / / . ...- . .-. -.-- / --..-- / / .. / .-. . .--. . .- - / --..-- / / . ...- . .-. -.-- / -- . -- -... . .-. / --- ..-. / ... .--. . -.-. - .-. . / .... .- ... / -... . . -. / .. -. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .... --- . ... / .- - / --- -. . / - .. -- . / --- .-. / .- -. --- - .... . .-. / .-.-.- / / - .... .- - / ... / .-- .... -.-- / .-- . / .- .-. . / .... . .-. . / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / - .... .- - / ... / .-- .... -.-- / --..-- / / .-- .. - .... / . ...- . .-. -.-- / -.. .- -.-- / - .... .- - / .--. .- ... ... . ... / --..-- / / .- -. --- - .... . .-. / -... .-. --- - .... . .-. / -.-. --- -- . ... / - --- / ... .--. . -.-. - .-. . / .-.-.- / / / -- .- -.-- -... . / ... --- -- . -.. .- -.-- / .. - / .-.. .-.. / -... . / -.-- --- ..- / The Quickening Gallion looked as if he had been slapped in the face. The Rattler had just hammered the nail home. What he said was true as Gallion experience attest. Corsair Wing is the misfit of Galcom. The last place any officer wanted to be assigned if they wanted a career in Galcom. Which brought up an interesting fact to Gallion? A fact that he never considered or realized. His Combat Officer, Lt. Resprick ÔÇ£volunteeredÔÇØ, actually he pulled some strings to be assigned to Wraith Fleet, specifically, Corsair Wing. BuzzzzzzzzzzzSuddenly, without warning the table in front [t]The Rattler pitched down and up in front of Gallion. A microsecond later, Gallion felt the collar around his next tighten and constrict. GallionÔÇÖs eyes began to bulge out as his breathing became more difficult. He brought his hands up to the collar of his uniform in a futile attempt to alleviate the constricting pressure around his neck. Time slowed to almost a stand still as the oxygen-rich blood that supplied his brain was slowly cut-off. Voices were muffled and distorted. He heard the ear-reaching sound of crushing bone and cartilage and a thump on the floor at his feet. He saw The RattlerÔÇÖs look of shock and disbelief. He saw his attaches reaching for their sidearm, diving towards opposite sides of each other in slow motion. Gunny York had drawn his weapon and trained it on GallionÔÇÖs assailant. To his left, the marine had his weapon drawn and trained on The Rattler. GallionÔÇÖs assailant dragged him towards one of the corners of the room. Gallion did his best to keep his feet moving to lessen the increasingly constricting pressure around his neck. He began to feel something wet and sticky ooze down his chest; slow at first but steadily increasing. Gallion began to see deep shades of purple, blue, and red as his vision began to fade. More muffled voices he heard as the lights suddenly went out. Gallion began to review his life when all of a sudden the lights came back on. Gallion could dimly see Gunny York, looking for a clean shot to save his Commander. The brightly-lit room began to dim and fad away, voices once vividly heard began to muffle, not to be heard at all. When the constricting pressure around GallionÔÇÖs neck suddenly disappeared. Gallion fell forward, away from the corner of the room gasping for air and breath. Gunny York, with a sadistic grin, finally had the clean shot he was waiting for and began to squeeze his weaponÔÇÖs firing mechanism. Gallion managed to gulp in a mouthful of air into his lungs and say, ÔÇ£HOLD!ÔÇØ before landing face-first on the roomÔÇÖs floor; gasping for more life-giving air. He looked quite comical, like a fish out of water trying to breathe.Rattler: / .- -.- .. .-. .- / --..-- / / .-.. . - / - .... .- - / -- .- -. / --. --- / ..--.. / / / .. - / ... / .-. . .- .-.. .-.. -.-- / -- . / --..-- / / --- .-.. -.. / ..-. .-. .. . -. -.. / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / - .... .. ... / .. ... / ... .--. . -.-. - .-. . / .-.-.- / / -.-- --- ..- / .-. . / .... --- -- . / --..-- / / .. -. / / - .... . / -.. . -. / ..--.. / / / .- .-.. .-.. / .. ... / .-- . .-.. .-.. / --..-- / / ... --- / ... - --- .--. / - .... .. ... / -. --- -. ... . -. ... . / .-.-.- / / / / -- . -.. .. -.-. ... / - --- / - .... . / ... - .- ..-. ..-. / -... .-. .. . ..-. .. -. --. / .-. --- --- -- / --..-- / / --- -. / - .... . / -.. --- ..- -... .-.. . / ..--.. / / / / / / / -. --- .-- / --..-- / / -.-. --- -- -- .- -. -.. . .-. / --. .- .-.. .-.. .. --- -. / --..-- / / .- ... / ... --- --- -. / .- ... / -.-- --- ..- / .-. . --. .- .. -. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / -.-. --- -- .--. --- ... ..- .-. . / --..-- / / .-- .... .- - / -.-. .- -. / ... .--. . -.-. - .-. . / -.. --- / - --- / .- ... ... .. ... - / -.-- --- ..- / .-.-.- / / .-- . / ..-. . . .-.. / -.. ..- - -.-- / -... --- ..- -. -.. / - --- / .- ... ... .. ... - / -.-- --- ..- .-. / . -. -.. . .- ...- --- .-. ... / -. --- .-- / --..-- / / - --- / - .-. -.-- / - --- / -- .- -.- . / .- -- . -. -.. ... / ..-. --- .-. / .-- .... .- - / .... .- ... / .--- ..- ... - / .... .- .--. .--. . -. . -.. / .-.-.- / / .. ..-. / .. / -.-. .- -. / .--. .-. --- ...- .. -.. . / -.. .- - .- / --..-- / / - . .-.. .-.. / -- . / .... --- .-- / .- -. -.. / .. - / ... / -.-- --- ..- .-. ... / .-.-.- / / After several long seconds of gasping for air, Gallion managed to regain his composure and breathing. He propped himself up and got up to his knees. Rubbing and his neck and hacking his lungs out. Between hacking fits, Gallion surveyed the room closely for the first time. Gunny York and his sidekick marine took a protective posture around their Commander. They had been embarrassed once, they would not allow it to happen again. Gallion notice something that he had felt but not seen before the attack. An Insurgent soldier lay dead not far from where he had been standing before the attack. He looks towards the corner of the room and saw his attacker. His hands clenching his head and his mouth was wide open, as if to scream. Not far from the attacker's body lay the implement of destruction that almost killed Gallion. Two metal rings, strung together with what looked like piano wire.Gallion walked on his knees, his hacking fits started to subside, to the body of his attacker. Gallion checked for and found a weak pulse. He placed his hand on his attackerÔÇÖs forehead, lowered his head a bit, and closed his eyes. Buzzzzzzzzzz Gallion suddenly opened his eyes and snatched his head back up. Using the wall to steady himself, Gallion stood up, faced The Rattler and leaned against the wall.Gallion: .... . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -... . / ..-. .. -. . / --..-- / / .- / .-- . . -.- / --- .-. / ... --- / .. -. / ... .. -.-. -.- / -... .- -.-- / .- -. -.. / .... . / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. / -... . / .- ... / --. --- --- -.. / .- ... / -. . .-- / .-.-.- / / .--. .... -.-- ... .. -.-. .- .-.. .-.. -.-- / .-.-.- / / <cough> - .... . .-. . / .. ... / .- / -.. .- - .- .--. .- -.. / ... --- -- . .-- .... . .-. . / -. . .- .-. / - .... . / - .- -... .-.. . / .-- .. - .... / .. -. ..-. --- .-. -- .- - .. --- -. / .- -. -.. / - .... .-. . . / ..-. .. .-.. . ... / -.-- --- ..- / -- .- -.-- / ..-. .. -. -.. / ..- ... . ..-. ..- .-.. / .-.-.- / / / - .... . / .-. . .- ... --- -. / .. / .-. .. ... -.- . -.. / -.-. --- -- .. -. --. / .... . .-. . / .-- .- ... / - --- / ..-. .. -. -..<cough> --- ..- - / .. ..-. / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. . .-- / --- ..-. / .- -. -.-- / --- ..- - / -....- / --- ..-. / -....- / - .... . / -....- / --- .-. -.. .. -. .- .-. -.-- / ... .... .. .--. / -- --- ...- . -- . -. - ... / .-- .. - .... .. -. / - .... . / .- .-. . .- / .. / --- ..- - .-.. .. -. . -.. / .-.-.- / / / - .... . .-. . / .. ... / -. --- - / -- ..- -.-. .... / --- ..-. / .- -. -.-- - .... .. -. --. / - .... .- - / .... .- .--. .--. . -. ... / .. -. / - .... .- - / .- .-. . .- / - .... .- - / -.-- --- ..- / --- .-. / - .... . / .. -. ... ..- .-. --. . -. -.-. -.-- / .. ... / -. --- - / .- .-- .- .-. . / --- ..-. / .-.-.- / / . <cough>.. / -- ..- ... - / --. --- / -. --- .-- / --..-- / / - .... . / ..-. . .-- . .-. / - .... .- - / -.- -. --- .-- / --- ..-. / -- -.-- / .--. .-. . ... . -. -.-. . / .- -. -.. / --- ..- .-. / -- . . - .. -. --. / .... . .-. . / - .... . / -... . - - . .-. / .-.-.- / / / .- -- / .. / - --- / .- ... ... ..- -- . / - .... .- - / -.-- --- ..- / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / .- .-.. .-.. --- .-- / -.-. --- .-. ... .- .. .-. / - --- / .-.. . .- ...- . / Gallion motioned to Gunny York and his sidekick marine. They nodded and each grabbed one of GallionÔÇÖs arms. Gallion looked at The Rattler and waivered. Finally, he bowed his head slightly and drooped his shoulders, as if unloading a five hundred pound monkey off his back. If it were not for the two marines, Gallion may have kissed the deck again.The RattlerÔÇÖs gaze never left Gallion. Rattler, drawing from history, and recognizing the significance of this meeting, Saluted Gallion. Not the average Salute, but one which would have been rendered between two medieval knights. The bent elbow held perfectly horizontal to the shoulder, with fingertips touching the eyebrow. Slowly Rattler rotated his hand at the wrist, exposing his palm to Gallion, signifying raising the visor to his helmet, then just as suddenly, snapping it back into traditional salute, again signifying the closing of the visor, and two Knights were ready to do battle if necessary. He hoped this gesture had not been lost on Gallion. Parting with "Friends", even newly found ones, was always painful for Rattler. With these times, One never knew if they would ever gaze upon one another again. With that, Rattler grinned broadly at Gallion. He then focused his attention to Gunny York, "Gunny, You better take good care of This Man! He's the best you could Ever Hope For, and by the way, next time we meet, I expect you to be First Sergeant York. That's an order!ÔÇØGallion nodded and saluted the Insurgent leader the same way. Why? Ancient tradition and protocol, when a parley is concluded, the parties exchanged salutes and returned to their battle lines. Also as a sign of respect. The RattlerÔÇÖs words rang true and hit close to home. Gunny York grinned and nodded towards The Rattler. No wonder the Insurgency is growing, Gallion thought. Gallion and the marines activated their transponder beacons and shortly they were transported to where they belonged, back on the Graf Spee. The marines assisted Gallion to through the ship, to the bridge, and to his command chair. Upon reaching his command chair he activated and transmitted one message to Spectre.Gallion: / - .... . .-. . / .. ... / .- -. --- - .... . .-. / - .... .. -. --. / - .... .- - / .. / -. . . -.. / ..-. --- .-. / -.-- --- ..- / - --- / -.. --- / ..-. --- .-. / -- . / -. --- .-- / .. -. ... ..- .-. --. . -. - / --- -. . / .-.-.- / / / ..Gallion did not wait for a reply from Spectre, he terminated the tight-beam comms channel. He opened the Wings tacnet channel and gave the RTB order to the Wing. Slowly, Corsair began to turn towards the Antis/Khan jump point. Finally, the CorsairÔÇÖs were going home. The constant tempo of three weeks of continuos operations began to catch up to the brassy Corsair leader. Gallion slumped in his command chair a little, breathing a sigh of relief. Relief to the effect that for this one time, he did not have to watch his back as one-by-one Corsair left the heart of the Insurgency. Just before the Graf Spee reached the jump point, Gallion tapped out once more on the strange device attached to the armrest of his command chair.. quote:- --- / .- -. ... .-- . .-. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / --.- ..- . ... - .. --- -. / --..-- / / / -.-- --- ..- .-. / --- ..-. ..-. . .-. / .. ... / .- .--. .--. . .- .-.. .. -. --. / .- -. -.. / .. / - ..- .-. -. / -.. --- .-- -. / .-- .. - .... / --. .-. . .- - / -.. .. ... .--. .- .. .-. / --..-- / / -- -.-- / - .. -- . / .... .- ... / -. .- ..- --. .... - / -.-. --- -- . - .... / .-.-.- / / / .. ..-. / - .. -- . ... / .-- . .-. . / -.. .. ..-. ..-. . .-. . -. - / --..-- / / .. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / .-.. --- --- -.- / ..-. --- .-. .-- .- .-. -.. / - --- / .-- .... . -. / --- ..- .-. / .--. .- - .... ... / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. / -.-. .-. --- ... ... / --..-- / / -... ..- - / .- .-.. .- ... / / - .. ... / -. .- ..- --. .... - / .-.-.- / / / - .... --- ..- / .- .-. - / .--. .- .-. - .. -. --. / .. ... / .-- .. - .... / ... .-- . . - / ... --- .-. .-. --- .-- / --..-- / / .. / -- ..- ... - / -... .. -.. / -.-- --- ..- / ... .-- . . - / .- -.. --- / .-.-.- / / / .. ..-. / --- ..- .-. / .--. .- - .... ... / .- .-. . / -.. . ... - .. -. . -.. / - --- / -.-. .-. --- ... ... / --..-- / / .. / .... --- .--. . / - .... .- - / .. / -.-. .- -. / -.. --- / .- ... / -.-- --- ..- / .... .- -.. / - --- / .-.-.- / / / .. ..-. / .- -. -.-- - .... .. -. --. / .. ... / ..-. --- ..- -. -.. / ..- ... . / - .... . / .--. .- -.. / - --- / ... . -. -.. / .-.-.- / / / --. .- .-.. .-.. .. --- -. / --..-- / / --. .-. .- ..-. / ... .--. . . Gallion saw and heard the incoming message. quote:...- . .-. -.-- / .-- . .-.. .-.. / --..-- / / -.-. --- -- -- .- -. -.. . .-. / ..--.. / / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. --- .-- / .-- .... . .-. . / ... .--. . -.-. - .-. . / .-.. .. ...- . ... / .-.-.- / / -.. --- -. / - / ..-. --- .-. --. . - / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .-- .- -.-- / -... .- -.-. -.- / .-.-.- / / -.. --- --- .-. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / .- .-.. .-- .- -.-- ... / -... . / --- .--. . -. / ..-. --- .-. / -.-- --- ..- / --..-- / / -... ..- - / -.-. --- -- . / .- .-.. --- -. . / -. . -..- - / - .. -- . / --..-- / / --- .-. / -... .-. .. -. --. / -.. . ... -.-- .-.. ...- .- / .- ... / .- / .--. .- ... ... . -. --. . .-. / .-.-.- / / -. --- - / --- ..-. - . -. / .-- . / --. . - / - .... .. ... / -- ..- -.-. .... / . -..- -.-. .. - . -- . -. - / .... . .-. . / --..-- / / ... --- / -.-. --- -- . / .- --. .- .. -. / --..-- / / ... --- -. / ..--.. / / / - . .-.. .-.. / - .... .- - / ..-. .-.. . . - / -.-. --- -- -- .- -. -.. . .-. / --- ..-. / -.-- --- ..- .-. ... / - .... .- - / .... . / ... / .-- . .- -.- / --..-- / / .- -. -.. / -.-. .-.. --- ... . -.. / -- .. -. -.. . -.. / .-.-.- / / .... . / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. / -. --- - / . ...- . -. / - .... .. -. -.- / --- ..-. / --. .. ...- .. -. --. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .... .. .--. / - --- / .... .. ... / -.-. --- -- -- ..- -. .. -.-. .- - .. --- -. ... / --- ..-. ..-. .. -.-. . .-. / --..-- / / -... ..- - / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. / - .... .. ... / .... .- .--. .--. . -. / --..-- / / - .... . .-. . / ... / .- -. --- - .... . .-. / ... .... .. .--. / -... . .. -. --. / -... ..- .. .-.. - / --..-- / / .--- ..- ... - / .-.. .. -.- . / - .... . / -... ..- -.-. -.- / - .... .- - / ... .--. .. .-. .. - . -.. / .--. .- ... - / -.-- --- ..- / . .- .-. .-.. .. . .-. / --..-- / / - .... .- - / .... .- ... / -.-- --- ..- .-. / -. .- -- . / --- -. / .... . .-. / .-.-.- / / -. --- .-- / --..-- / / -... . --. --- -. . / --..-- / / -.-. --- .-. ... .- .. .-. / --..-- / / / / / ..-. .- .. .-. / .-- .. -. -.. ... / .- -. -.. / ..-. --- .-.. .-.. --- .-- .. -. --. / ... . .- ... / ..--.. / / / / .-. .- - - .-.. . .-. / .-.-.- / / .-.-.- / / .-.-.- / / .-.-.- / / .-.-.- / / .-.-.- / / .-.-.- / / .-.-.- / / .-.-.- / / .-.-.- / --- ..- - / ..--.. / Just as the message ended the last of the Corsairs, the GCV Graf Spee left Antis. On their long journey home. Gallion collapsed in his command chair, blood seeping from the wound he suffered on his neck by the unknown Insurgent attacker. Gunny York and the marine eased the wounded Gallion from the Graf SpeeÔÇÖs command chair down to the deck directly below. Medics, ever alert and ready arrive on the bridge shortly there after, stabilized Gallion, and moved him to the MediBay. Gallion dreamed as he never dreamed before. The combination of exhaustion, bloodloss, and medication put Gallion on cloud nine. He felt no pain, he felt as if he could fly. Flying like the birds of his youth on Earth. Flying like a crow.....The Time Sixty-One Minutes Past Midnight, The Witching Hour Plus One, time for the Wraiths to flee <rp/>This is the last of the coded posts that I will submit. This was a long one. RattlerÔÇÖs dialog is 99.9% his. My thanks go to the Insurgency on this post, notably Insurgent One, Akira [for not completely tightened the noose ] and Chavik. My part of this thread is not over, I have at least one more post.I hope nothing was lost in the translation, literally I almost forgot. Welcome aboard Commander Echo ------------------ Cmdr Gallion GCV-Graf Spee, Corsair Wing Wraith Fleet[This message has been edited by Gallion (edited 02-20-99).]
Rattler Posted February 20, 1999 Report Posted February 20, 1999 Firstly, It's been my pleasure to collaborate with Commander Gallion on his last post. As far as I know, this is the first incident of this type. This post, and the previous ones were designed to stretch both the imagination, and test the resolve of BC Commanders. If you wanted to know the whold story, you had to work for it. It took a little imagination and much resolve to get the decoding program (those of you who did not know Morse Code) and then to actually decode the messages. My hats off to those of you who actually read the Entire message contents. Hope you liked them. Secondly, I thought this the proper place and time to announce that Commander Echo has become an Insurgent. She had anguished over which side to join, and spent many unnerving hours, I assume, over just what the ramifications of her choice would be. In the end, I truely believe that the Free Spirit in her came through, and her choice was an obvious one. Insurgency Lives On! No hard feelings guys. <RP> Rattler watched as the last of Corsair blinked through the Jump Gate, and disappeared just as suddenly as they had come. Spectre was returning to Base, one ship at a time. It was like poetry in motion, as the rings of ships would migrate from outer ring to the next inner ring. It looked exactly as it was, a force field decreasing in strength, growing smaller and smaller. His thoughts wavered a bit as he watched, then just as suddenly, snapped to one focal Point. Akira! He's getting stronger, and apparently better. Time for Rattler to go see and talk with Him! First priority! With that, Rattler turned on his heels and strode off to the Medical Facility. Just as he was about to leave the conference room, he stopped.Rattler..."OK gentlemen, turn those darn machines off so I can see you! Then, Stand Down. I know that anything that has been said, and done, inside this room shall not leave it. Understood?"Now it was off to see Akira! </RP>------------------ Rattler, Spectre, Insurgent One Official BC3K Tester [email protected] ICQ 12894104
Guest Posted February 21, 1999 Report Posted February 21, 1999 <applauds> great RPG here guys! Keep it on!Gallion: I sent you an e-mail a few days ago, but my e-mail server is dead so I can't download your reply. Send any reply to [email protected] for the time being. Thnx.<rp> Commander Tac watched lazily from his office in Wraith HQ as his Battlecruiser was being resupplied. -The crew is rested, Delta is 90 percent operational and HellHound is aching to launch. Where is Corsair Wing?- The thought cursed through Tac's brain over and over again. It was hard to sit and wait for news of his misfit wing.If he didn't HAVE to be here he would've launched a massive search for them.Alas, as the tides of fate wash on the shores of time, Tac had to tie his fleet down to protect the HQ and to monitor the Gammulans, another incident like the TDF can not be allowed to happen again.Soon he would be launching ships to the Credian quadrant to investigate the IFF virus that disabled Delta and patrols into Gammulan space to check on the enemy. He was also planning an "aid package" for the Falkyeries. Wraith Fleet would be darn busy in the following months.A flashing light on his desk cut his attention. Lazily, Tac switched his cup of Java to his left hand and pressed the comms button."Commander, incoming transmission from one of our Starbases.""Put it through Ensign"A holovid image materialized on top of Tac's desk. The face of a young officer dressed in Wraith Infantry uniform stared at him from the other side. "Sir!" he saluted, his image wavering. "Report corporal". "Yes sir. Sensors have detected an engine trail similar to the one you asked us to keep an eye out for Commander. It passed through Polaris approximately 8 hours ago.The base commander went out in a Starcruiser to follow the trail.He hasn't reported in yet sir.What are your orders?""Efficient this corporal" Tac thought, "Corporal, prepare that base for combat. I want you to be battle ready when HellHound Wing arrives there.From now on all ships in your area are to be stopped and scanned.Launch patrol missions to the Polaris Region and adjacent star systems.3 ships per patrol.I will arrive shortly.""Understood sir." the man saluted. "Good, now get on it." Tac said as he switched the commlink off.The Falkyrie and the search for Gallion would have to wait. If that trail was indeed coming from that mysterious ship that had nearly destroyed the Usagi a few months ago, there would be hell to pay if he did not check it out. After all, its not every day that you see a fully upgraded Galactan BC in the hands of an unknown force.Heartbeats later, Tac opened his own commlink and inputted the frequency that would link him directly to the ISS Tactical Coordinator. Once the link was established, he transmitted a coded file containing the scarce info Wraith Fleet had on the EDGECRUSHER, the Wraith Starbase sensor log and a personal note: "The match is unmistakable. If this THING is out there we must find it and ID it. It attacked a Galcom ship once before and it may do so again. Request any INTEL the ISS may have on this ship or any others like it. -Tac-"He pressed the send key and waited as the file was encrypted.A second later, the words: "File transmitted" appeared on his display. "Computer, send a copy of this transmission to Gareth De Sylva and Antti Junkkari.Fractal encryption.FYO." The computer beeped in response."Files transmitted" was displayed once again on his screen.He then got up and headed towards his ship. </RP> SOrry to put this on your thread Gallion, but its loosely realated to your "coming home" and the SDF. Cheers! -Tac-EDITED NOW! Thnx for the tip Akira, I forgot about that part hehe. "I Hate temporal mechanics!". *Brownie points to whomever can ID who said that last qoute*. [This message has been edited by Tac (edited 02-21-99).]
Guest Ron Wallin Posted February 21, 1999 Report Posted February 21, 1999 Tac, you need to talk to DeSylva. According to him the SDF campaign happened before the recent Gam. war in the RPG universe. Perhaps I'm mistaken. But if I'm not, your post is years old!Cmdr. Akira
Gallion Posted February 21, 1999 Author Report Posted February 21, 1999 <rp>Cosmic CharlieComms: "Incoming Message from Wraith-HQ" LtCmdr Gweedo: "Pipe it throgh Lt," quote:<garble>....<static>....<more static>....<garbled again> Comms: "Communications systems are still unreliable Sir" LtCmdr Gweedo: "So it seems Lt."Gallion lay in the MediBay heavily sedated and bandaged. He had an eire grin on his face.The Medical Oficer was somewhat concerned over his patient's condition. He had stopped the bleeding and stiched Gallion up OK, probably have a scar around his neck also, but that eire grin had him worried. He had seen Gallion with that grin before, a grin Gallion had just before making a kill. To see such an evil grin on a person when they are concious is one thing and normal; but to see an unconcious person with such a grin was another thing all together. The Medical Officer made an entry in his medical log to have a complete psychological workup done on Gallion as soon as possible.Gallion was dreaming innocent dreams; dreaming the dream of dreams; dreaming of feathers, crows, ashes, and flying.The Time Seventy Minutes Past Midnight, The Witching Hour is through for this day <rp/>------------------ Cmdr Gallion GCV-Graf Spee, Corsair Wing Wraith Fleet[This message has been edited by Gallion (edited 02-21-99).]
Rattler Posted February 23, 1999 Report Posted February 23, 1999 Rattler sat patiently in a straight-backed chair at the foot of Akira's Bed in Medbay. Akira had first looked like a tortured soul, twisted from within. His pain could be measured by his heartbeat, and the silence between the ticking of an ancient clock. It was deafening. Rattler had, once long ago pruchased an Antique Book, The book, Bushido: The Soul of Japan, written by Inazo Nitobe! He also had remembered Akira's Lineage. He had come to Medbay to ease the passage of Akira from "Lord Of The Universe" back to just a Mortal Man. Rattler read aloud now, Spinning tales of Honor, Integrity, and Glory! Of WorLords, and Fife's. Akira's features softened upon hearing these ancient descriptions, or it would seem, as Rattler knew not if any of it was getting through to Akira. But it was working, whatever it was, so Rattler kept up the reading. Those in MedBay who knew Rattler, and Akira as well, remained far removed from this arena. They were uninvited, and would remain as such. This, Thought Rattler, is not Your Death Bed Akira, But a Rebirth of an Ancient Shogun! "Now Damn You! Wake Up and smell the Cherry Blossoms, The Salt Air, AND FEAL THE WIND! You're Home!" Rattler passed out in the chair from lack of sleep, dreaming of Bamboo Curtains, Rice Paper Walls and Floors, And Geisha on the streets of an Ancient Land. ------------------ Rattler, Spectre, Insurgent One Official BC3K Tester [email protected] ICQ 12894104[This message has been edited by Rattler (edited 02-22-99).]
Guest Locke1 Posted February 23, 1999 Report Posted February 23, 1999 Commander Locke looked around in confusion. He had no recollection of where he was or how he got there. He saw he was lying on some kind of bed, apparently in a medical facility of some sort. A medic stood watchfully beside him."Medic, what happened to me. Why am I here?" said Locke. "Please Commander, you need your rest. Lie back down." "What happened damnit? And why is the ship on red alert status?" "Sir, please relax. About two weeks ago we had a collision with a civilian freighter at a jump point. We were badly damaged and you've been in a coma ever since."Suddenly a tall, gaunt figure appeared beside Locke, as if from thin air. Locke looked in shock and horror at the face, the face of a scarecrow."Sing a song of six pence..." it sang even as Locke struggled in horror, only to discover he was strapped down in the bed. The scarecrow suddenly turned into a cold eyed raven, and dived for Locke's eyesLocke screamed.Locke woke up in a cold sweat. He panted for a few seconds, as the last remnants of his dream faded into obscurity. He was surrounded by darkness. He reached beside him, and activated his suite's lights. Locke looked around, and remembered where he was. Spectre station. He had spent the last week here as his ship underwent refitting in dry dock. He looked at his watch. 2:30 A.M. station time. Locke got up, put on his robe, and left his quarters. He strode quickly down to the main docking bays and then to bay number 3.At All Costs gleamed in the star station's flood lights. Even now the engineer's were at work installing the last of the upgraded shield and weapons systems. After the grueling episodes of the First Gammulan War and the search for Commander Akira, the great battlecruiser was at last rested and ready for action again.Locke stared out the viewport at his pride and joy. It was good to be back.
Rattler Posted February 24, 1999 Report Posted February 24, 1999 (RP) Five Days had passed since Rattler had sat in Medbay, reading aloud to Akira. Rattler stood in Docking Bay 11 impatienlyl awaiting the final locks engagement to he hull of the "Trader" Ship. It had cost Rattler most of his "Markers" spread throughout the Fleet, but was worth far more than what he had expended. As the Trader exited his ship, he was cloaked in black, with hood which only revealed his eyes. All other areas of his body was covered, and not even light would reflect off of the texture of his garments. Without saying a single word, a package was handed to Rattler, and the "Trader", his Ship, and any evidence of his visit were gone in an instant. Minutes later, a smiling Rattler entered Akira's room in Medbay, Package neatly tucked under his arm. Rattler observed Akira, resting quietly now, almost as if he were a child, asleep in his mother's arms. Very quietly, Rattler unwrapped the package. His eyes gazed upon the treasure that he so gently held. He swore that he heard the ghosts of long past whisper their names as he read the details, painstakingly printed upon the long grained parchment paper. Shinto Katana, Wakizashi, and Tanto Forged in the maru-gitae style, the blade had been tempered using the traditional clay process dating from 700 A.D. This particular set had been guaranteed by the "Trader" to have been owned by an Ancient Warrior during The Ashikaga Shogunate(1338-1567). This "guarantee" could not be questioned, as the "Trader" had known to whom he was presenting these items, and also knew the cost, should they be proven to be fake. No, they were the "genuine article!" Rattler carefully placed them on the foot of Akira's bed, in full display for the Spectoral Samurai, when he should wake and realize his surroundings. Rattler smilled, walked to the head of Akira's bed, and whispered into Akira's ear. "I'll expect you to wear these from now on." With that, Rattler strode out of Med Bay, and back into the life that was Insurgent One, Lord and Master of "Ratter's Den". (/RP) For you guys, I'm just filling in a bit until I get some help here. It's lonely out here on this limb. Somebody either get a ladder or a Saw. I care not which. Just somebody do something ------------------ Rattler, Spectre, Insurgent One Official BC3K Tester [email protected] ICQ 12894104[This message has been edited by Rattler (edited 02-23-99).]
Charles Lindsey Posted February 24, 1999 Report Posted February 24, 1999 .-. .- - - .-.. . .-. - .... .. -. -.- .. -. --. / -. . . -.. / .-. . ... - .-- .. .-.. .-.. / .--. --- ... - .-.. .. -- -... / .. ... / ... .- ..-. . .--. .... --- . -. .. -..- / .-. .. ... .. -. --.
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