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 Post subject: Intrepid Episode 17: Beacon in the Night, Part II
PostPosted: Wed Sep 01, 2010 9:03 pm 
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Previously on Battlestar Intrepid...

Quote:
Cylon Baseship - Intrepid / Libra pursuit fleet.
Day 79
0900


'Cavil' One looked across the command 'table' at his fellow Cylons, "Every day they slip past our grasps is a day they get closer to finding each other. It is a nightmarish thought if Admiral Jacobs links up with Commander Rodrigues and his fleet. Three battlestars, two destroyers..."

"…We did get a message from one of my sisters in the Intrepid fleet during the last engagement." Six added. "Give her time to do what she has to do."

"Time is something we are running out of..." One sighed.

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

Battlestar Intrepid - Conference Room
Day 79
1143


Tom Jacobs looked back at the two men, "Something that large...and on that that military frequency can only be one of two ships: A fleet superheavy retriever or a battlestar."

"Or a baseship playing with us." Cmdr. Guynes added.

Maj. Trevors quickly added while looking at the Admiral, "Anything is possible...and we need to know, sir."

"Yes we do...time to summon Major Lazwell and have his pilots find the answers for us." Jacobs said as the data replayed again.

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

Starliner Nimbus
Day 80
10:44


“Ma’am, are you Helen Goodland?”

“Y….yes. How can I help you?”

Helen suddenly found her face covered in spit.

The woman ranted and raved as the near by security guards who had witnessed the act dragged her away. Helen just stood there, in shock when it finally hit her who the woman was.

It was Trisha Milsap…widow of Ronald Milsap.

“You got my husband killed…he’s dead because you didn’t do your job! Why couldn’t you have died too?!” Trisha yelled as she was hauled away. “You’re no better than the Cylons!!!”

Helen closed her door and washed her face. After toweling off, she poured herself into the overstuff chair overlooking the room. She saw the radios, the bulletin board and badges. Goodland lowered her head and started to cry.

After a few minutes, Goodland raised her head and cried out in sorrow. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…they were my friends, too…I’m sorry…Oh Gods I’m so sorry!!!”

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

Battlestar Taurus - Large Conference Room / Court
Day 81
0945


"Dr. Bertrand Roberto Rousseau, on day sixty of the exodus, you killed your wife of thirty-eight years Galina Anna Rousseau on the Silver Falls. On day eighty of the exodus, you were convicted of manslaughter by this court. On day eighty-one of the exodus from our worlds, justice will be dispensed upon you."

"This court sentences Dr. Bertrand Roberto Rousseau, who has been convicted of first degree manslaughter, to be held in the prison section aboard Colonial Fueler N7589V for a term of no more than fifteen years and no less than five years. Due to your special background as a physician, you will serve in the ships' medical section during your sentence, Dr. Rousseau. This court stands adjourned."

Rousseau was quickly ushered out of the room after the judge had exited. The convicted man stood stoically and walked out of the court with his marine guard escort. He never looked down or spoke a word to anyone. Bertrand felt no remorse. He had said his peace in the court room...and he felt at peace knowing his wife was no longer in pain.


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

Ranger Four
Day 84
1745


What the pilot saw in the last twenty-two frames shocked him...

...it looked to be the engine housings of a Colonial warship 'dematerializing', as if looking from the rear. A Mercury-class battlestar engine housings to be exact.

"Holy frak!" Corky mutter. "That looked to be one of ours..."

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

Battlestar Intrepid - Fleet CAG Office
Day 84
1902


Maj. Lazwell looked at Capt. Butler, "Sabrina has caught more flack about it than you know, Kevin. The last few complaints were sent to Col. Wilson and then forwarded to me. As you know, the Colonel can lack tact at times. Did you know about that?"

"No...no I did not." Kevin said with genuine surprise. "Sabrina has mentioned nothing of this to me."

"Well, keep a lid on it and just do your best to do what I asked you." Bruce could tell that Butler was shocked and possibly concerned. "Let a day or so pass and let me talk to Sabrina...I'll let her know about this chat and that there were things you didn't know. If this has been the cause of tension, maybe this will ease things for the both of you."

"I would appreciate that."

"I may be Fleet CAG, but I'm not an inhuman, uncaring jackass...no matter what other people say behind my back." Lazwell said with a smile. "Will you do this for me?"

"Sure...I can do this if it takes heat off of Sabrina." Kevin said. I want to know who the frak has been running their mouths. I'm still halfway tempted to park my boot cross-ways up a jerks' ass.

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

Battlestar Intrepid
Day 85
0635


Brenda moved quietly through the dark room and carefully opened the door to her locker. She put the coat on a hanger and stripped down to her undergarments. Then retrieved a small box and slipped quietly into her rack. With the curtain drawn, the Cylon went to work piecing together a simple switch and connecting batteries to it.

_________________
"Times change...and so must I." - The Doctor, 'Time of the Doctor'


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PostPosted: Sun Sep 05, 2010 2:08 pm 
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Sundog
Day 85 1305 Hours

Sergeant Trevor Roberts walked along behind the four Marines who lay prone on the ground, rifles in arms, aiming at targets on the far side of the dome. The crops in this dome were field beans, recently planted and therefore still a low, leafy blanket over the ground--easy to shoot over.

“How many, Dix?” he asked PFC Dixon, who carried the squad’s machine gun.

“Thirty-six, Sarge,” Dixon replied.

It wasn’t the number of times Dixon had hit the target, because that went without saying. It was how many rounds he’d fired. Roberts had grown up on Aerelon, and knew about farming. He knew that the rounds—shell casings here and bullets at the impact area—weren’t good fertilizer. And although there was plenty of food on this ag ship, there wasn’t an unlimited supply of ammo in the Intrepid fleet. Every casing, every bullet was collected, accounted for, and recycled.

Roberts nodded calmly. He’d been counting, too, automatically. Dix was a good machine gunner, his bursts of three rounds always on target and precisely timed. The young Marine was a natural with the weapon, and Rob moved on to the next jarhead in line.

“Fourteen, Sarge,” Corporal Moody said before Roberts could even ask. The Sergeant paused, gazing down at Moody’s target. Moody had a tendency to be a little over-eager on the trigger, and his aim sometimes suffered. This time, though, all his shots made a nice pattern over the center of the target.

“Good job, Corporal,” Roberts said approvingly.

Moody looked up from his weapon, startled by the unexpected praise. Roberts wasn’t, exactly, stingy with praise… he just didn’t talk all that much at any time. “Thanks, Sergeant!” Moody said.

Roberts gave a single nod. “Cease fire!” he said, loudly enough for all four to hear him through their ear protection.

They all knew the drill. Eject magazines, clear weapons, safe them, lay them down.

“Hundred an’ forty-one, thirty-six SAW,” Roberts said. The total number of rounds fired from assault rifles and machine gun, and the total number of casings and bullets the Marines would have to account for.

Working together, it didn’t take them long to police up the casings. “Lunch today was pretty good,” Moody commented, sifting through loose dirt to pick up casings.

“Food here is always good,” Dixon grinned.

Cutter straightened, casings in hand, and eyed the machine gunner. “You keep eating like that and the Sarge will have to make you run extra laps. You’re getting fat,” she said.

“No I’m not!” Dix protested with good humor. “I need to keep my strength up… I have to carry the SAW around.”

Moody tossed a clump of dirt at Dixon. “You need to keep the strength of your belt up, holding in that gut,” he teased.

“Sergeant Roberts!” Dixon turned to Roberts in entreaty.

Roberts studied the broad Marine critically, and gave a slow nod. “Ten laps after we’re done policin’ up,” he said in his calm drawl.

“Sarge!” Dixon said with dismay.

“Carryin’ your weapon,” Roberts added.

Dixon groaned. Moody sniggered.

Roberts swept his gaze over the whole group. “That’s for all you maggots,” he said, his words eliciting groans from all of them… although they knew he’d be leading them for those ten laps.

He grew up in a shack,” Cutter grumbled quietly to Dixon, meaning Roberts, but her grumble was as much a tease as the ones directed at Dix. “He wouldn’t know a cushy assignment if it bit him in the arse.” Her tone was a close imitation of his Aerelon accent.

“Yeah, I heard he sleeps on the dirt in dome four, ‘cause he misses home so much,” Dix whispered back.

“Wrong, maggot,” Roberts said pleasantly.

Cutter snorted.

“I sleep on the deck,” Roberts went on with a straight face. “Dirt’s too soft, in the domes.” He turned, then, as he heard the airlock to the dome cycle. “Come on in, Staff Sergeant,” he said, seeing it was their platoon leader, SSgt Holyoak. “Range is clear.”

Holyoak looked at the Marines picking up casings and counting them into an empty ammo box. “I just wanted to let you know, we’ll be jumping again in an hour,” he stated to the group.

PFC Arbeque straightened. “Again, Staff Sergeant?” he asked with surprise.

“Yes, PFC,” Holyoak confirmed.

“We’ll be done by then, Staff Sergeant,” Roberts told Holyoak.

“You look like you’re done now,” Holyoak replied.

“The Sarge is making us run ten laps,” Dixon groused.

Holyoak regarded the machine gunner. “Do you good,” he said. “Work off that belly you’ve accumulated since we got stationed here.”

“Yes, Staff Sergeant,” Dixon sighed with resignation.

“Carry on,” Holyoak said with amusement, exchanging nods with Roberts and then leaving.

“Jumping again, Sarge?” Arbeque asked Roberts. The young Aquarian never complained, but everyone knew he hated jumps.

“That’s the fourth time today,” Cutter remarked.

“One almost every hour,” Moody added. “I wonder what’s up?”

“Prob’ly cylons on our tail,” Dixon said.

“Maybe not,” Cutter offered. “Maybe they found something. A planet, I mean. Maybe they found the thirteenth colony.”

“If they did, we wouldn’t have to jump any more,” Arbeque muttered.

“More likely it’s cylons,” Dixon countered darkly.

Moody suggested, “Could be another fleet.”

Dixon tipped shell casings into the ammo box. “…thirty-nine, forty, forty-one,” he counted. “Thirty-six SAW, a hundred forty-one regular, Sarge.” He closed and clipped the lid down. “If it’s another fleet, we might get reassigned,” he said to Moody.

“Put us on military ship where the chow isn’t so good,” Cutter chuckled. “You wouldn’t have to run your gut off then, Dix!”

Dixon snorted, picking up his SAW with one hand, tucking it under his arm, and picking up the ammo box with his other hand. “I’d like to see you tote this thing around,” he said to the smaller Marine.

She patted his bulging biceps. “You know we love you, Dix,” she grinned.

Moody snorted. “All but your gut,” he added, also grinning.

_________________
Director of National Intelligence James R. Clapper, about budget cuts for the US’s intelligence agencies: "We're not going to do more with less and all these other clichés. . . . We will just simply have less capability."


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PostPosted: Wed Sep 08, 2010 9:58 pm 
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Battlestar Intrepid
Day 85
1415


"Final jump complete Admiral and all ships are accounted for." Maj. Trevors stated. "We are on the edge of Beta Lyrae gas cloud. All systems are nominal."

"Get with the navigator and place us into the outer edges of the gas. Order all ships to implement radiation monitoring." Thomas Jacobs then looked over at Lt. Bays, "Commence launch of all Ranger Scouts. Relay the orders to Commander Guynes as well."

"Aye, Admiral." Bays said before carrying out her instructions.

Major Bruce Lazwell, Fleet CAG, stood looking at the DRADIS, "Were casting a wide net to find whoever this might be. I pray this works"

"I know, but with that last report, I have to." Tom said calmly. "I also need to put the fleet in a safe, fairly undetectable spot. With what we have learned about Cylon sensors and detection, this cloud with all of its RF noise should provide some protection. This also gives us a chance to put down for repairs across the fleet. Some of the ships are in desperate need to work."

"And if the Cylons do find us?"

"We'll move out of the cloud and jump. It'll be up to us to hold off the toasters long enough to get everyone away."

"Aye, sir." Lazwell said. "Patrols for outside the cloud are on a two-hour rotation. "

Before Jacobs could respond, Maj. Trevors returned to the command table. "Course plotted and ready to disburse to the fleet. Based on our previous scouting, this seems to be a non-turbulent portion of the area."

The Admiral shook his head in agreement, "Execute your plan...take us in."

"Aye, Admiral."

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"Times change...and so must I." - The Doctor, 'Time of the Doctor'


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PostPosted: Fri Sep 10, 2010 3:55 am 
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Fleet BBS - Captain's Union Only Section
Day 85
1435


Quote:
From: Capt. Bryan White (Pan Galactic 1190)
To: All
Subject: Jumps

Is it me or did that last series of jumps just appear out of the blue and seem kinda random? Any idea what the frak the Admiral is up to?


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

Quote:
From: Capt. Darrion Littleton (Highlands Dawn)
To: All
Subject: Re: Jumps

Not sure Bryan...I was wondering the same thing. It doesn't seem like were on an active alert. Military doesn't seem jumpy, no pun intended. Andy, have you heard anything?


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

Quote:
From: Capt. Andy Meyers (CU President - Colonial Heavy 691)
To: All
Subject: Re: Jumps

Your guess is as good as mine. I'm supposed to have a meeting with the Admiral and Patrick Greene in the the morning. I'll try to get an answer other than 'military related'.




Lycanthrope - CO's Quarters
Day 85
1442


Captain Merton sat looking at his computer screen as he scrolled through the other comments. He looked up at another monitor mounted on the wall showing DRADIS information. Due to the radiation from the cloud, readings were a bit fuzzy. Unlike his fellow ship captains, Merton and his crew enjoyed a better view.

Some of it was due to the 'special' privateer relationship the Lycanthrope enjoyed with the military. Another reason they could 'see' so well was due to the relationship with their 'benefactor' before the war - the financier and corporate magnate Kalrk, whom the Captain figured was dead back on the Colonies.

Jacobs is up to something. He's picked a good hiding spot and we saw several of what appeared to be those scout ships leaving Intrepid and Taurus. Several of the captains have said they need to put down for maintenance and repairs. Having a look around this section of the universe Admiral while you take care of some fleet work? It would make sense...

The leader of the group known as The Pack reached for his coffee cup and took a long sip. His eyes returned to the computer screen and read the two latest thoughts about the jumps. After another drink of coffee and a long look at the DRADIS, he thought of Lycanthrope's old 'Benefactor' for a time...the man who had made the 'acquisition' of this ship possible.

"What was in that box, Kalrk?" he asked aloud to himself.

_________________
"Times change...and so must I." - The Doctor, 'Time of the Doctor'


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PostPosted: Tue Sep 14, 2010 7:48 pm 
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Nimbus - Observation Deck
Day 85
1612


The priest stood looking out the large observation windows of the grand starliner. He observed the bright pinkish-red hues of the cloud they were in. Riding along the edges of this space storm, eh Admiral? So, I wonder what my fellow brothers and sisters did to spook you?

Justin 'Cavil' Cooper watched the humans looking at the cosmic storm. Children were in awe and seemed full of questions...and it seemed like their parents were answering as best they could. The Cylon turned and left the room with his contempt held just below the surface.

I don't know why they bother to be so inquisitive...they're going to be dead soon. Useless sheep...useless.

_________________
"Times change...and so must I." - The Doctor, 'Time of the Doctor'


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PostPosted: Wed Sep 15, 2010 5:42 am 
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Battlestar Intrepid – Conference Room
Day 85
1705


Major Bruce Lazwell had summoned both of his CAGs about the current Ranger Scout operations. For the last twenty minutes, he walked them through the revised intel data and what had been learned. He sat at the end of the conference table. Lt. Butler and Major Watkins sat on either side of the Fleet CAG, facing each other.

Both of the CAGs intentionally avoided eye contact and Lazwell had noticed. It’s for the best for now…with what is going on I’m not going to discuss their personal lives. They are acting professional. We’ll have that chat later.

“That is the current intel report.” Maj. Lazwell said. “We’re casting our net out and seeing if we find anything. If the Scouts should find something, they are to high-tail it back here and report. If we do find someone, the Admiral has directed that we select a pilot for first contact. Needless to say, this will be a dangerous mission…”

As Lazwell continued, Lt. Kevin Butler listened, but his mind was elsewhere. You can’t even look at me? I guess it is over. Well, it was good while it lasted.

At the same time, Major Sabrina Watkins was in personal turmoil as well. I need to just come out and talk to him. Maybe I’ve been…a little too cold and distant. He deserves to know what is going on.

The Fleet CAG then looked from side to side, "Okay folks, if we make contact, who is a trustworthy pilot to send on a dangerous mission? This could be deadly: a Raptor appears out of nowhere saying ‘hello’ and ‘would you mind joining us’ may not get a warm welcome. The Admiral and I agree we would both be leery of anyone telling us that. ”

Sabrina spoke first, “Lt. Marshal of the Wild Angels would be a good choice. He’s cool, calm and level-headed. He’s also trained in Ranger Scouts so he can track them down if they exist.”

“No other choice, sirs…” Kevin said matter-of-factly, “…I’ll do it if we're that lucky.”

Sabrina had a look of shock and Maj. Lazwell raised an eyebrow. He looked at his CAG, “Why you? You’re needed here to run operations.”

“If it’s going to be that dangerous, I won’t ask someone to do a task I wouldn’t do myself.” Butler replied. “Besides, the less people who know what’s going on the better, don’t you think?”

Sabrina looked over at the Fleet CAG who was pondering Lt. Butlers’ words. Is that the real reason or are you letting us factor into this?

Before Sabrina could get a word out, Lazwell looked at Kevin, “Point well taken, Lt. I will talk to the Admiral after this meeting and recommend you. Now, we need to establish some mission parameters, if this is not a wild goose chase.”

Maj. Watkins sat and listened and even contributed a little to the planning. She kept looking at Kevin…who was keeping his attention on Major Lazwell. Butler only looked at her when discussing possible mission planning, and then turned away.

I pray we find nothing, Sabrina thought. Even with the rough times, I don’t want to lose you…

_________________
"Times change...and so must I." - The Doctor, 'Time of the Doctor'


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PostPosted: Wed Sep 15, 2010 8:59 pm 
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In what seems to be another place…
…in a seemingly dream-like state.


“Keller…Lewis, report!” the lady shouted aloud as she pulled herself out of the rubble in the great hall. Moments before, she was rushing towards the podium as an attacker rushed the newly elected Interim President. All she could remember was a rush of people running towards her and then a flash.

As she tried to stand, the woman in the soot-covered Colonial Navy uniform found herself back on the floor...her left leg was in massive pain. Frakkin’ thing is broken for sure, she thought. Slowly, she found a scorched, but still useable chair. The officer pulled herself into the chair and surveyed the room.

Except for pockets of very small fires, the room was black. There were no walls or ceiling to be seen…just blackness. Around the several small fires, one could see shattered tables, chairs…and bodies, or what remained of them. The Naval Officer looked around the room and heard the moans of several people.

The officer summoned the power to shout out one more time, “Is there anyone from security that can hear my voice? Can anyone hear me and respond?”

The only answers she heard were moans of the dying.

This doesn’t seem real, she thought to herself. After several moments, her training kicked in, “Alright, whatever happened did not destroy the ship. The Admiral has to be sending a rescue team to save us all. Since I can somewhat move, I’m going for help…if I can find my way out of here. It shouldn’t be long”

Only moans answered her. As the officer took a deep breath, she nearly choked on the smell. It was a mix of carpet, wood, plastic smoke and something else. As she slid off the chair to start crawling, she knew what the ‘something else’ was.

It was the smell of charred human flesh.

After throwing up, the Colonial Officer looked back, “I will be back for you…I promise.”

As she crawled away, the woman looked up for a moment and thought she saw something. It looked like someone or something in a light blue robe. The officer looked down for a moment, summoning energy to shout one more time.

"I'm over here, help me! There are other survivors..."

The Colonial Officer looked up only to see nothing and no one. I must have a concussion or something...I'm seeing things. The Admiral will be here soon enough.


Nurse Gwen Ruhoff looked over the machinery attached to the critically injured woman. She noted current readings of vitals and other activity. Small uptick in brain activity…Dr. Kersh will be happy to see that. Otherwise, the Major is still in the same condition: improving physically, but still comatose.

Ruhoff returned to the nurse’s station and put the chart back into its place. From this part of the desk, the name on each chart could easily be seen. After a few minutes, Dr. Steven Kersh arrived at the station and grabbed for the chart. He looked down to make sure he had grabbed the right one.

Yup, that’s her, the doctor thought as he opened Maj. Lia Davis’ medical chart. Slight improvement in brain activity...come on old friend, you can pull out of this.

Intrepid ICU
Day 85
1832

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"Times change...and so must I." - The Doctor, 'Time of the Doctor'


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PostPosted: Wed Sep 15, 2010 9:29 pm 
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Intrepid CAG office
Day 85
1835


Lt. Kevin Butler looked over his flight suit to make sure everything was in place. Before grabbing his helmet, he stopped at his desk and opened a drawer. Quickly, he retrieve the small flight book and put it in the utility pocket on his left leg.

After grabbing his helmet, there was a knock at the hatch. Shit...why does someone have to see me right before I go on patrol? It happens every frakkin' time. Kevin let out a sigh, "Enter."

As the hatch swung open, Butler noticed that it was not one of his pilots, but it was Sabrina Watkins. He looked up at her and spoke with no emotion, "Can I help you, Major?"

"You want to tell me what that was all about in the meeting, Kevin?" Sabrina was surprised by the lack of emotion in Butlers' voice. "It almost sounded like a martyr's complex. Why did you volunteer to go if we find someone?"

"Like I said, I wouldn't send someone unless I was willing to go on the mission myself." he replied. "If there is that much danger, I'd rather face it myself. It's part of our job, you know."

"Part of our job? Is this about the job or is this about us?" As soon as she asked, Sabrina immediately regretted saying what she did. "I didn't mean it to sound like..."

"Like what? I'm thinking with emotions and a broken heart?" Kevin asked. "You give yourself too much credit. I know what is going on with you back on Taurus...Lazwell and I had a chat. You don't have to worry about me."

"What?" Watkins said in a shocked tone. "What did the Major tell you?"

"Enough...that everyone is complaining about us and you've caught a lot of hell because it." Kevin said. "You don't have to worry about me...I'll be the least of your headaches and worries."

"Worry? I..." Sabrina was cut off by the crackling of the overhead speaker.

'Lt. Butler, please report to the hanger deck. Lt. Butler, please report to the hanger deck for your patrol.'

"If you will excuse me Sabrina, I have a patrol to pull." Kevin walked towards the open hatch. "We can talk later...and do me a favor."

Still in shock, Sabrina looked at him, "What?"

"Close the door behind you, please." Kevin responded as he left his office and walked towards the hanger deck.

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Battlestar Intrepid - Conference Room
Day 86
0745


Admiral Jacobs entered the room at a fairly brisk pace, "Sorry I am late gentlemen, but military business kept me detained longer than I expected. Please, take a seat."

Patrick Greene and Andy Meyers shook Jacobs right hand and the did as directed. The Admiral sat on one side of the table with his back to the wall. Between him and the wall, several Colonial flags stood. Meyers and Greene sat immediately opposite the military leader.

"So, lets get to business, shall we?" Tom said with a smile. "Where do we need to start?"

Greene started before Meyers could get in a word out, "Me, my remaining staff and remaining delegates are working towards a plan to restart elections. This is going to take a little longer than expected."

"How long? Jacobs asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We project that it will take another thirty to sixty days." Greene stated flatly. "Since the...convention attack, many people who showed an interest in establishing a working government have...withdrawn their interests."

"I've heard that from a few people on my ship." Andy Meyers said. "They don't see a need for one and would rather stay under...military rule."

Jacobs rubbed his chin for a moment. "I can't say that I much blame them and I can see their point of view. Still, a full time military government is not the answer. Both of you need to work together as equals and get something together. I may be a military leader, but I feel it is best of the civilians had a voice and a leadership role. Figure something out, agreed?"

To Patrick Greene, it sounded like a direct order. Still, he knew better to argue when he was on the 'weaker' side of the argument. "We will continue to press forward, Admiral."

I think he was telling Pat to play nice with that tone of voice. Good for you, Admiral. Meyers shook his head in agreement, "Of course. As President of the Captain's Union, we will continue to move forward and assist."

"As long as we are all in agreement, lets move on to the next item." Jacobs said. "I was provided with lists from both of you of civilian and ship needs. My Executive Officer and the XO on the Taurus are sorting through it all and prioritizing. Captain Meyers, we noted several ship issues."

"Yes...Captain White on PG 1190 is having some of the worst problems. They're barely keeping the FTLs and some corresponding sensors running."

"I see. Over the last few jumps, I've noted 1190 has been getting slower and slower...possibly indicating degradation and possible failure. I'll talk with Col. Wilson. Maybe it is best to have Capt. Whites' ship dock to the fleet tug?"

"If that could happen and some engineers could make it over for repairs, I think Capt. White will be very agreeable to that." Meyers said with a smile.

"Good, I'll make it happen. Patrick, I noticed your requests started with more medical visits to civilian ships...especially those who do not have full time physicians or facilities."

"Oh yes. I know the military medical staffs are busy with wounded, but I think it's prudent to work in more visits. Most people would actually prefer to have that happen on the ships they are on. Could you speak with Dr. Kersh and make it happen?"

"I will talk to the Fleet Chief Medical Officer and see if they can get a couple of teams together and set up a rotation that gets doctors to those ships more often." Jacobs looked at both men, "So...next item?"

Meyers quickly jumped in, "About the series of jumps yesterday that seem to come out of the blue. Any particular reason why?"

"Repairs across the fleet and a chance to catch our collective breath, Captain." There is the other reason...but you don't need to know that, Jacobs quickly continued after his quick internal thought. "Raptors found this place and I decided with the electronic interference from the cloud...it was a good place to avoid detection and lick our wounds. Jumps were a bit random to make sure no Cylons were following the fleet."

Andy was satisfied with the logical answer, "Makes sense, Admiral. A few of the captains noticed we seem to jump a bit randomly. I figured that was what you were doing."

"Nothing more than making sure we were not being tailed." Jacobs said with a smile. "So, what do we need to discuss next...?"

_________________
"Times change...and so must I." - The Doctor, 'Time of the Doctor'


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Please Note - This is a reprint of a post from Libra Episode #18 - Martial Law. Permission to reprint was granted by the author of the post, Hazend. Thank you very much, boss!


Illustrious - Flying close formation with Libra
Day 86
1100


Rodrigues watched as Riley and his team worked the controls of the Illustrious like a well oiled machine. Rodrigues had asked Riley to join them on this test run so he could get away from the CIC for a bit.

Riley readily agreed. It wasn’t often he had the chance to get out either so he knew what Rodrigues must be going through.

“One minute to test fire,” Riley said. “FTL engines up and running.”

Zayne looked at the navigation screen as Crenna flipped a few switches. “Picon? What are you inputting Picon for Bill?”

Crenna replied halfheartedly “I had to put in a set of coordinates I knew anyhow. I figured why not.”

Riley laughed. “Leave it to you to come up with some off the wall stuff. I’m just glad this is a test and not the real thing. Otherwise there’s no telling where we would be going.”

Rodrigues smiled at the men in the ship with him. It was good to see the old team back together.

“Ten seconds to test. Nav coordinates input,” Crenna said. “In 5..4..3..2..1..Jump.”

With the safeties in place Crenna placed the Illustrious into jump mode. The onboard computers began the sequence but ceased just short of the actual jump. As the FTL drives wound down Crenna nodded, satisfied the ship was in great shape. He turned the ship towards the Libra and flew close by the observation deck.

Onboard the Libra, Colonel Vansen stood on the observation deck watching the Illustrious go through her paces. He took a sip of coffee from his mug and smiled. I bet the Commander is having a ball.

Suddenly a flash of light temporarily blinded him. He quickly regained his vision and looked ahead towards the Illustrious.

It was gone.

All that could be heard on the observation deck was the crash of Vansen’s mug on the floor.

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PostPosted: Sat Sep 18, 2010 4:42 am 
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A three-ship Cylon Baseship battle group escorting a Resurrection Ship
Day 86
0955


The group had been hunting for weeks for any of the Colonial contacts...be it Intrepid, Libra, Galactica, Pegasus or Deimos. A One closed his eyes as he stood in the 'CIC' of the lead baseship. Quickly, the floor and walls faded away and it appeared that he was standing out in the void. One opened his eyes and markers appeared that showed 'last contact' with each group.

Then, he plotted the movements of each group or ship. Galactica and Pegasus growing closer. Libra and Intrepid seem to be playing a distant dance with each other. Still, they are inching closer to each other. Deimos...or what ever that damn annoying destroyer escort is calling itself this hour seems to be doing what ever it wants. That is one group I'd like to do away with sooner than later...they seem to cause problems when we least expect it. Black Jack is almost as annoying as Admiral Cain...

One heard the sound of footsteps approaching him. Instinctively, he knew who it was. "What are your thoughts, Two?"

"Some streams move closer to convergence, others move further away." Two looked at the Cavil with a raised eyebrow, "Some streams move on their own random will...ignoring the control of fate, or so they think."

"Sometimes when your line talks of 'streams', you make as much sense as the Hybrids...aimless babble. Today, you are very much on the mark." Cavil said in a matter-of-fact-tone. "I don't know who should cause us more concern as a team: Cain and Adama or Jacobs and Rodrigues?"

"When streams form together, they become more powerful and unpredictable." Two said with a slight foreboding tone. "A convergence of any of them should cause you more than just concern, brother."

One raised an eyebrow as projections where the different groups could be were 'placed' in the imagined void. "Lets find them before they find each other, Two. We need more data...we need to send raiders to scout these systems. They can cover these areas within a few days. Launch six scout groups to these areas. If we are fortunate, we'll eliminate one of your much babbled 'streams'. There are better things we could be doing other than finishing a genocide...one that shouldn't have lasted longer than one day."

"By your command..."

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PostPosted: Tue Oct 26, 2010 2:00 am 
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Intrepid CIC
Day 86
1004


Major Darren Trevors walked back into the CIC after taking a short lunch break. As the glass door turn and opened, he noticed Admiral Jacobs at the command table looking down. The Old Man isn't happy about something. What ever it is...it's not good.

The XO approached the table and looked at the Admiral, "Back, sir...and is something wrong?"

Tom didn't even mutter a word. He slid the file folder over to Trevors. After a few moments and flipping towards the summary page and reading it, the Major let out a sigh.

"Another ten days to get the main FTL computer systems back online. Damn."

"And that is if we are lucky, Darren." Tom said quietly, "It's not as simple and hooking up an off the shelf computer and loading a program. FTL jump systems are multiple machines...each handling a different facet...talking to each other."

"And getting them to all talk at the same time seamlessly appears to be an art. So sir, what do we do?"

"Continue to do what we are doing...and pray nothing gets fraked up."

Trevors paused in thought and then looked back at Jacobs, "We could always dock with the tug...let them handle our jumping, sir. It's a valid backup until we can get our mains online again. A backup to the backup, sir."

Admiral Jacobs looked at his XO and pondered the idea, "If it was a heavy vessel retriever, it would be a sound idea, but..."

"...but?" Darren asked.

"If the Cylons show up and the tug is tether-docked, the tug would have to match our moves perfectly or rip up the dock lines."

"How about a hard-point dock then?"

"That presents a problem in itself. Many of our docking hard-points have taken damage...it's in the heart of Chief's report. The only two available are dock points outside of the 'jump envelope' as it is called for a regular tug. Those points can only be used at a base or by a heavy retriever. You know what happens if a regular tug would used one of those points...put itself outside an already tight jump envelope?"

"If the tug is using one of those points, it rips off a good chunk of ship...or sends both ships into each other when it engages its FTL. Not good."

"Not the way I would want to end everything, Darren." Tom said bluntly. "No, the only way to do it is to tether ourselves to the tug...it expands the envelope. As Chief put it, 'mathmatics and external forces working together in a not-so-perfect, but workable, harmony. If the Cylons show up and we're tethered, that makes us slow sitting ducks."

"So, we continue on as we are, correct?"

Jacobs sighed, "Unfortunately, yes."

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PostPosted: Thu Feb 24, 2011 8:10 pm 
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Pan Galatic 1190
Day 86
1104


Captain Bryan White stood at the hatch that led to the shuttle bay. A shuttle from Intrepid had arrived with an engineering team to look over various problems that his ship was having. After the bay had pressurized, he looked out the portal to see a half-dozen people pile out of a Raptor. He opened the hatch and walked into the bay.

"I'm Captain White and you folks have no idea how happy I am to see you!" he said with a big grin. "I hope you folks can get the old girl running good again."

"Lt. Mike Reid and it's nice to meet you Captain", the young man said as he shook Whites' hand. "Seems like you have a lot going on here, sir."

"Yeah and now the computer on my main sensors are crapping the bed. Did that make on my laundry list of problems?"

"Sure did. I have someone who is also going to look over your jump computer as well." Reid smiled. "I brought a person who knows FTL and DRAIDIS computers rather well."

A beautiful, tall woman with her long, dirty-blond color hair walked up to them. "I'm Specialist Brenda Holliwell, Captain White. I was told you are having FTL and sensor computer problems?"

White tried not make it look like he was ogling the young technician, "Yes ma'am. If you can get them stable again and if Lt. Reid can get my FTLs to where they spin up faster...I'll be much in your debts."

The Six Model smiled, "I think we can take care of all that, Captain."

Although it was entertaining to watch the civilian ship captain flirt with one of his techs, Reid knew business had to be taken care of. "Well, it looks like the others are coming along. Shall we get you back into ship-shape, Captain?"

White smiled, "More than happy to get this taken care of. If you all will follow me..."

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PostPosted: Mon Feb 28, 2011 10:52 pm 
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Ranger Three - Open space
Day 86
1155


Ensign Kevin Reyes has spent nearly two days on his deep-space mission to search for 'any and all signals', be it friend or foe. He had heard the rumors of another Colonial ship out there, but he had discounted it. Just some Cylons frakking with us. Getting our hopes up so we can make a mistake.

Reyes flicked a switch on a panel above him to activate the voice recorder, "Position twenty-three tests clear of any activity at this time. Starting jump prep to..."

The Ensign stopped when there was an audio tone from the spectrum analyzer. He sat there stunned for a moment as his computer was recording what appeared to be distant data. Finally, Reyes remembered the voice recorder was on. "Recording one electronics contact! waiting for the computer to give me precise details. Marking contact as 'Alpha-Echo-Two. End of report."

Minutes seem to pass at a painfully slow pace. What made matters worse was that the Ranger Scouts were not designed for comfort. There was as small walkway from the hatch to the pilot's seat. The co-pilots' seat had been replaced with a small toilet. The engineers had joked that for the next refit, they were going to combine the toilet with the pilot's seat and pack in more electronics. Still, the Ensign found a way to get up and stretch.

After twenty minutes, the computer had not only figured out what the signal was, but possible distance to where it came from. A look of shock came across Reyes' face as he flipped on the voice recorder. His voice was trembling, "In...information analysis complete. Colonial military and civilian radio traffic detected. Spooling FTL and returning to Intrepid for further review..."

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 Post subject: Re: Intrepid Episode 17: Beacon in the Night, Part II
PostPosted: Tue Jul 05, 2011 4:53 pm 
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Intrepid - Conference room
Day 86
1105


Admiral Jacobs had reviewed the findings from Ranger Three with Major Trevors, Major Lazwell, Lt. Butler, Commander Guynes and Intelligence Chief Captain Chris Sturgess. Jacobs mulled through all the presentation and what it meant to everyone in the fleet. Finally, Tom looked around the table and spoke, "Thoughts, gentlemen?"

"If there is someone out there, we contact them and bring them into the fold, sir." Captain Sturgess said without hesitation. "Coupled with everything else we have, there is another group out there."

"And hope it is not a Cylon trick." Cmdr. Guynes said. "We just don't invite them here to find out these are ships that were captured and piloted by the Toasters. We need to set up some protocols to establish contact when we find them. I imagine they will want to check us out as well...if we find them."

"Appropriate caution, Commander." Maj. Lazwell said. "I know that if someone jumped in and said 'here I am and can I join up?', I'd be suspicious of them. Still, we have to make contact...and assure fleet safety at the same time."

"If I might suggest, if we do find anyone, we establish contact and meet at a neutral spot?" Maj. Trevors suggested. "We can arrange it where the data about the current fleet location could be scrambled if the pilot feels it is a trap."

"Easily done on the Ranger Scouts, sirs" Lt. Butler said. "This is also part of the reason why I said I would take this mission. I wouldn't ask anyone to do this if I was not prepared to do it as well. If it is a trap, I'll see that the data is scrambled and I'll destroy the craft somehow."

Admiral Jacobs raised an eyebrow, "So, I take it you have given this mission a lot of thought, Lt. Butler? Good, thinking ahead is what may be the difference between success and failure. Have you actually thought about what you are going to say when you look at someone face-to-face?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure if I am going to salute or hug them, sir." There was a small bit of chuckling at Butlers' remark. "Honestly sir, I'm going to tell them what you tell me to say."

"Good...I will outline that with you before you leave and I'll give you a letter as well." Tom said. "I want this mission launched before 2000 tonight, folks. That gives us enough time to put in safeguards and plan. The sooner we find out what is out there, the better. Needless to say, this all stays in this room for now. We will reconvene at 1500 hours and go from there. Everyone but Commander Guynes is dismissed."

Everyone but the Admiral and Commander stood and quickly left the room. After the hatch closed, Tom looked at William, "You have a lot of questions on your mind...I can tell."

"Not so much questions, but concerns. Chiefly, is this all just one great big Cylon trap?"

Tom took a deep breath, "Maybe, that is why I am not going to expose the fleet...or our main guns in the process. If someone is found and if there is going to be a meeting, we'll do it at a neutral spot and in a non-military ship."

"What ship do you intend on taking then?"

"I'll have a chat with Captain Merton and Lycanthrope officers if the time comes. Of course, you will be in charge of the fleet if we have to enter into that phase until I get back."

"Okay," was all William could say. After a few moments, he looked at the Admiral, "If we do find someone and they are a superior rank than you...then what?"

"Considering there was only a half a dozen Admirals that would be considered 'higher' rank than me...I'd frakking welcome it!" Tom said with a slight smile. "Except in one case, they were or are all level-headed folks."

"Admiral Smitson?"

"Yup, that jackass. I'll run the other direction if it is him." Tom smiled. "We know from comm-traffic Admiral Nagala met his end over Virgon in the Atlantia. We'll figure out all that once the dust has settle. When you get back to the Bull, take her to Condition Two quietly. We're not going to advertise this. Senior staff only...and just bare minimums."

"So, I take it I'm excused from the 1500 meeting?"

"Yup...I'll keep you in the loop."

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"Times change...and so must I." - The Doctor, 'Time of the Doctor'


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