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 Post subject: Episode 4: Cassiopeia's Tears
PostPosted: Fri Jun 02, 2006 11:10 pm 
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Previously on Battlestar Libra…

1. A meeting between ship Captains that no one will soon forget.

2. Martial law or utter chaos… what to do?

3. A previously anonymous government official is suddenly thrust into a criminal investigation of sabotage… and then again into the spotlight of a potential new government.

4. People working furiously to move supplies from Ragnar to the military vessels before Cylons show up.

5. Eventually the enemy does show, and the newly formed fleet has no choice but to jump toward a tylium mine on a distant moon… Cassiopeia.

6. The Colonials are fully aware that the mine is compromised with a nearby enemy base, but they simply have no other choice. If you don't have fuel, you cannot fight back.


Last edited by SonOfTed on Sat Jun 03, 2006 9:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Sat Jun 03, 2006 9:53 am 
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1746
Grandeur

Captain Gabriel Keramidas stared at the DRADIS screen, relieved to see that all the colonial ships that had rendezvoused at Ragnar, were present here, some distance from the moon Cassiopeia.

And his greater relief was because there were no cylon ships.

"I don't get it." he said to his helmsman.
"A military base on the moon that the cylon's didn't destroy, and a tylium mine that they didn't destroy or capture."

Sometimes a person preferred to see his enemy before him, than for that enemy to be somewhere lurking. Where were any cylon ships? Surely they had not simply left a few centurions.

Keramidas had another worry. Would the cylon on Grandeur be able do something to Grandeur now that the ship.. now that this 'fleet' was out in the open again? When Liza Liala had returned with six marines, Keramidas had felt a tinge of panic. it was one thing for a pair to board to investigate, which had happened with Liala and Jonathan Willborn.

But this was far different, Captain Keramidas, and all ships' captains had assembled on the batlestar, and all had gone back to their ships with a bodyguard, or a "new escort". And Liza Liala had come back to Grandeur... with a bodyguard and six others. Surely, this would not go unnoticed by the crew and passengers of grandeur. Surely, the collaborator would be come aware of this, if not all ready. were had these new arrivals to Grandeur eaten lunch? Who had seen these new faces and told others of them?

Or was that one incident merely the work of a frightened person, who had tried to commit suicide, through the sabotage? And maybe the "nutjob" was better now; had had a brief moment of unclear thinking.


Last edited by Silon on Sat Jun 10, 2006 5:46 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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PostPosted: Sat Jun 03, 2006 10:05 am 
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1746
Mercurius

Kalrk sat back in his pilot's seat, rather comfortably, after seeing on DRADIS that in the time that he had been away from this moon's vicinity, no cylon raiders or baseships had shown up. He hoped it was proof that his ship was indeed invisible to Cylon detection.

"I think that when one or more of our ships is detected by the centurions on the moon, they'll call for reinforcements." he said ominously to his beautiful marine bodyguard.

Mercurius was visible to DRADIS now, seen by all of the colonial ships, in its position near the destroyer Douglas J. Griffyn.
Kalrk didn't want any ships' captains to panic if they had not "seen" Mercurius.


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PostPosted: Sat Jun 03, 2006 1:44 pm 
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Cassiopeia Moon
Tylium Mine
D01 T1812 CUT

The shuttle was barely back from its latest mission, but absolutely everyone was already talking. Throughout the entire mine and its reinforced shaft entrances and hollowed out chambers all of the Cardelli Corporation employees were noticeably happier… an ENTIRE Colonial fleet had jumped into the system, complete with a Battlestar and military escort.

Rod Strickland quickly asked one of his fellow technicians to take over for him and left the control center, moving down from the upper level room constructed primarily along the underground ceiling. Most of its outer wall consisted of a wide, bullet proof window so they could plainly observe the change in behavior from all of the people working below.

Rod found both Mason and Adrianna standing next to the newly landed shuttle, visiting eagerly with both of its pilots. He joined the group and Mason smiled at him with delight.

“It’s time to get the hell out of there,” the senior Cardelli said proudly. “There are survivors after all and they no doubt came here looking for fuel.” Mason stood thoughtfully for a moment, still looking quite the CEO despite his rumpled suit and tie. Most of them had slept on and off throughout the entire crisis, so everyone was naturally a bit fatigued.

“The next shuttle will be prepped and ready for launch in ten minutes,” one of the pilots pointed out. “Do you think we should make contact with them sir? They might not know about the military base… or the Cylons there.”

Mason thought the situation over carefully. “Adrianna and I will be on the next shuttle to meet the fleet,” he decided. “We’ll make certain that our rescuers get the coordinates to a rendezvous with Hades Horn and Necromancer… fuel for the current crisis and the promise of new fuel as needed on a permanent basis.”

“I’m in charge of coordinating the evacuation here,” his daughter pointed out. “Shouldn’t I stay until everyone is aboard a shuttle and gone?”

“No Adrianna, I need your help in the fleet,” Mason told her firmly. “You have the best estimate as to how many people are still alive down here, and with our taking some of the equipment with us I’ve been agonizing over the possibility of having to leave some of them behind. So let’s get to that fleet so you can give them an estimate of how many more shuttles we’ll need. Rod can coordinate from down here now that we know we’ll be able to evacuate everybody.”

“That I certainly will do for you Ms. Cardelli,” Rod said reassuringly. He didn’t need to see Mason’s expression to know that the man quite simply wanted to get his daughter the hell out of the danger zone. If any of Strickland’s family were still alive he knew he would certainly feel the same way.

“Get that shuttle prepped and ready for launch,” Mason ordered, watching the two pilots nod and move to obey. “We’re all getting out of here.” He practically cackled with glee.

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Last edited by SonOfTed on Sat Jun 03, 2006 9:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Jun 03, 2006 7:25 pm 
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Previously on Battlestar Libra…

The first day after the cylon attacks on the Colonies could have been boring for Pvt Dan Wolfe; the Libra was moored at Ragnar Anchorage, gathering supplies, and all he did was stand guard. It wasn’t boring, though, because he stood guard with LCpl Josette Benoit. In just the short time he’d known her—really just one day—they’d become friends; for the big, easy-going Marine, having good friends made all the difference.

And there was also the tantalizing thought that another Marine, LCpl Psyche D’Argent, might actually be interested in Dan. He usually preferred taller, dark-haired girls, but the pale-skinned redhead was an exotic attraction. Josette was already spoken for, attached to PFC Frankie Laffitte, so Dan figured he might as well turn his interest toward the flame-haired former beauty queen.

In all ways, now more than ever, who knew what the future held.

==========

Written with Eaglestar51

D1 T1759
Pvt Dan Wolfe

It had been a long 24 hours. By the time Mac and the rest of the knuckledraggers were done getting supplies from Ragnar, all Dan wanted to do was get something for dinner and collapse in his rack. Or maybe even just collapse in his rack—an indication of how tired he really was, to think about sleep before food.

“Frak, I’m beat,” Dan sighed.

He followed Jo to the armory and they put their weapons away. They went together down the passageway, as Dan’s berthing area was just past sick bay, Josette’s further along.

But the hatch to Dan’s berthing area was open, and he looked in at the chaos there, bewildered. There were a bunch of people there, not Marines… some were medics. One paused and said, “Is your rack in here?”

“Uh… yeah,” Dan could only say.

The medic sighed. “Sorry, but we’ve taken over this berthing area for some of the injured. You can collect your things, but you’ll need to find someplace else to sleep.”

All Dan could do was stare at her, blinking. Frak, I could sleep on the hard deck right now I think. He nodded.

Jo touched his arm to get his attention, "Dan, mon ami, there's a few empty racks in our berth; you can bunk with us until someone decides otherwise."

“Oh, yes, that’s great,” he said gratefully. At least I won’t be with a bunch of people I don’t know.

It didn’t take Dan long to stuff his belongings into his duffle bag; some of it he hadn’t even had a chance to unpack yet--most of his civilian clothing was still tightly packed in the bottom of the duffle. He swept his extra insignia and other small objects into his shaving kit, and took down the pictures he’d stuck up under the mirror on the inside of his locker door, tucking the last carefully on top of everything in his duffle. His dress uniforms were still in the hanging garment bag, so in a matter of minutes he had the crammed duffle bag under his arm, the garment bag over his shoulder, and again he followed Jo.

Gods, she’s got the greatest hair, he thought, looking at how she’d braided it as they headed for her berthing area.

"So, here we are. Notre maison." She made an expansive move with her arm, encompassing the small crowded room. She took in his large frame and smiled, "A lower bunk, I think, no? This one is empty..."

“Thanks, Jo,” Dan said with relief. He didn’t bother to completely unpack everything, just his uniforms so they wouldn’t wrinkle, and his shaving kit. He put the kit on the shelf in his new locker, and put the partly filled duffle bag in the compartment under the bunk.

He picked up the pictures he’d put aside on the rack to stick them up on the locker door, and paused, looking at the top one.

It was the picture of his 4-year-old brother Eli, in the kid sized Marine combat uniform that Dan had sent when he was in basic training. Eli, you imp… Dan thought fondly.

Slowly Dan shuffled through the rest of the pictures. The next one was his older sister Nikki, holding a gleaming glass trophy shaped like a wing, an award she'd gotten for hairstyling. After that was a picture of the whole family, taken when Dan had graduated from basic training. His father on one end, his mother next to him, then Nikki, and Dan in his dress uniform next to Nikki. Little Eli stood very straight in front of Dan, his expression solemn—until you looked more closely and saw the mischief in the youngster’s eyes.

The last picture was a very recent one, taken only three weeks previously, when Dan had been on leave before reporting to the Libra. Again it was Dan’s whole family, but on the beach this time, all of them in swimsuits. They stood in nearly the same order as in the picture from Dan’s basic training graduation; his father on one end, then his mother, then Nikki, and last Dan. This time Dan had his arm bent up and Eli was hanging on it like he was going to do pull-ups. The boy was grinning from ear to ear at the camera. Even a casual observer could see that the young boy would look a great deal like his much bigger brother when he grew up.

“Eli,” Dan whispered, sitting slowly on his bunk. Oh, gods, Eli… Dan started shaking, his breathing fast and uneven.

Josette heard a strangled noise. "Dan?", she called from her locker, since none of the other Marines had returned yet. He didn't reply, and she moved closer to his bunk. He was sitting there, his eyes fixed and unseeing, shaking like a leaf. She called again, "Dan!", louder, but still he would not react. She half-squatted in front of him and hugged him tight. "Tu peux pleurer, mon ami, it's alright to cry; we have all cried this day... tres triste, ceci jour..." she whispered, her own tears dampening his shirt.

He was plummeting down a deep dark hole, into hell except it was freezing cold. “Eli,” he whispered. “Nikki… Mom and Dad, they’re dead, they’re all dead.” He shook with the cold.

But then awhile later he became aware that someone was with him, near him, hugging him fiercely tight. He closed his arms around her instinctively. “Oh, gods,” he said, the low words wrenched from his gut.

She was saying something in a different language, soothing, and the darkness slowly receded.

“Oh, gods, Jo,” he groaned, the pain physical.

"Shush, mon ami. It's okay. I'm here with you." She held him to her and caressed his head softly. "I am here... If you want to talk, or don't."

She was like a lifeline, a small light in the darkness that gradually got brighter. Dan’s breathing steadied. He became aware that Jo must have been crying, his shirt was damp. With an effort, he began to relax. Irreverently, the thought occurred to him, Frak, she smells good!

“Oh, Jo, they’re all dead,” he said with anguish. He pulled away from her a little and handed her the picture. “My family,” he said with sorrow. “My parents… my sister Nikki… my brother Eli.”

She saw the lovely family picture through the mist of her tears. She touched the small figures with her index finger, "Une jolie famille..." She looked down, "My mother died when I was very little... I don't remember her, you know? It was just Papa and me... And then he died, too." She took his big hand in hers and looked into his eyes, "I don't know what is worse, never having such a family, or losing it..."

“I don’t know either, Jo,” Dan sighed. He felt incredibly weary. Exhaustion of the soul as well as the body. “Hey… thanks. For, uh… being here. I think I’m gonna try and sleep now.”

"Toujours, mon ami. That's what friends are for, no? To be there for each other?" She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Bon nuit."

He nodded. “G’night,” he said. He pulled off his boots and took off his overshirt and lay back for just a minute before he took his pants off… and fell asleep.

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Last edited by GoldWolf on Sun Jun 04, 2006 5:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Sat Jun 03, 2006 10:09 pm 
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Colonel Brennan Samuel Herald
Destroyer Douglas J. Griffyn
- in CIC

D01 T1745

The two hours of sleep Herald had gotten in the early morning was beginning to wear off.

As soon as the Civilian ships had jumped away along with the Libra and Perseus, Herald ordered the ship to condition one and jumped. They were greeted with no Cylon ships... strangely enough.

" Have missile barrages trained on the mine, we can't accept friendly ID, and the hope that there are survivors there. We can't have a repeat of the Heron, we'll have to MAKE SURE they are Colonial."- he said once the ship had its bearings of the current area.

Condition One was still apparent as everyone on the Griffyn was at their station ready for an ambush. On the flight deck CPO Luna had all Vipers ready to launch in case of such an event.

The entire feeling in the CIC was very eerie, and seeing the faint traces of what used to be a military base on the moon through the cameras did not help the feeling at all.

" We're the lucky ones," Herald told his XO,

" Are we sir, or are we just left only to die," Miles asked Herald back.

" Are you okay Miles, maybe it's time for you to go rest, you've earned it, and great job taking care of the old girl while I was gone to the Libra," he told his XO.

" ANY sleep in this hellish nightmare would be MUCH appreciated sir," he told Herald.

" Then go, same rules apply as when I went to my rack... if you're needed, we'll call," he said.

After Miles saluted and began walking off, Herald picked up the handset: " Stand down condition one, set condition two," then he turned to Braddock, "until we know if this place is completely safe, have all stations ready to go."

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Jun 03, 2006 10:21 pm 
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1746
Grandeur

Captain Gabriel Keramidas stared at the DRADIS screen, relieved to see that all the colonial ships that had rendezvouzed at Ragnar, were present here, some distance from the moon Cassiopeia.


1758

The receiver rang inside the cabin, and Jonathan Willborn, Security Chief of Astral Dawn, now assigned as back-up to the Colonial Bureau of Investigation agent Liza Liala, picked it up.

"Hello?" Willborn said into it.

"'She's not here at the moment, Captain."

"Yes, sir, of course."

He put the receiver back on its base.

Keramidas didn't sound very happy.


Last edited by Silon on Sun Jun 04, 2006 12:17 am, edited 2 times in total.

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PostPosted: Sat Jun 03, 2006 10:39 pm 
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Liza Liala, CBI
1801
Grandeur


She (and her annoyingly ever-present bodyguard) entered the room, jam packed with people, including Willborn and seven marines, the latter of which were engaged in going over every taped security record off the Granduer for the day the sabotage had occured. The former, for his part, walked over to her....

"Captain Keramidas called, about ten minutes ago. He wants you to go and meet him on the bridge, as soon as possible." he paused slightly, then continued "....He didn't sound happy."

Damn. That was all she needed. She didn't have anyone to back her up on this, anyone to call and have make it clear to Keramidas that she was here, and she was here no matter what, till the damn sabotuer was caught, and she would do what she needed to within the bounds of the law, to carry out her investigation. No one at all, anymore...Unlike before all this had occured.

Or...Did she? She thought back, to what Kalrk had said, while they were baiting Cylons. Director Liza Liala. She had been agahst, chewed him out, nearly, for suggesting it and forcing her to impersonate the Director. But....maybe he hadn't been meaning her to impersonate anyone. Maybe....He had been the one with the most foresight of all of them. Regardless of what Commander Rodrigues intended to do about the rest of the government....She was all that remained, of the CBI. That made her....Acting Director.

Godsdamn it all....She was her own higher athourity, now....For all the good and the bad that entailed and implied.

"Alright. Keep going on the logs, for now...I'll check back in after I finish on the bridge."

She gave him a nod, and exited the room once more, heading for the bridge.


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PostPosted: Sun Jun 04, 2006 12:16 am 
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Liza Liala, CBI
Granduer
1810

(Co-Written w/ SilverLantern)



She stood outside the bridge, and signaled for entry.

Soon after, a bridge officer, greeted Ms. Liala and opened the bridge door for her to enter.

“Ms. Liala. Thank you for your prompt appearance." Keramidas said to her, as he walked over to shake her hand.

She reached out her own hand, shaking his offered hand.

"No problem, Captain. Where would you like to speak?"

"My office." he smiled, and he gestured to another door.

“Your friend can remain outside, and keep my friend company." he meant the two bodyguards.

She gave him a slight smile back, her expression a clear indication to anyone observant that she was annoyed by the marine's very presence as her "bodyguard". Luckily, her back was turned to Hugo, and so he didn't witness said expression.

"Certainly, Captain."

She followed him into the office, with Hugo peeling off at the last second to stand on one side of the doorway, and Keramidas' bodyguard peeling off the stand on the other side.

"Please, have a seat." The captain said to his guest.

She took a seat as indicated, laying her hands, overlapping, in her lap.

"Do you have any good news for me? Have you found out who the saboteur or nutjob is? Are you getting close?”

He knew if she had any news she would have told him, that he would not need to ask, but he wanted to start this meeting with this.

"No, Captain.....I'm afraid I don't have anything for you, yet. Every lead I pick up seems to lead to a dead end...of one kind or another. Honestly...." here, her voice showed a bit of her own frustration, as well as an apologetic tone "....an investigation like this could be expected to take days--or weeks--even back on the Colonies, with a full team and proper equipment. With just myself, and a few security....." her voice trailed off. "I promise you one thing, Captain. I will catch them. No matter what it takes."

“That is what concerns me." he said calmly and candidly.

"The Chief Electrician contacted me around lunchtime with quite the tale from one of his Junior Electrician's, Gavin Huffland. You know Mr. Huffland; you interviewed him twice."

He took a breath to contain his anger.

"Is it the CBI's tactic to enter a suspect's home with gun drawn and to threaten him at gunpoint, ms. Liala?"

"Frankly, Captain, I'm not so sure I'm keen to discuss our tactics. However, given the situation--and the impossibility of obtaining a warrant, given that all such things were blown sky high by the Cylons--let me assure you that nothing I have done has broken any law, Captain. Mister Huffland was, at the time, the prime suspect, not only of myself, but of Mister Dirac and Mister Willborn as well. We had cleared all others by that time, with airtight--or at least very solid--alibis. Mister Huffland had none."

"Let me assure you, Ms. Liala, that indeed you did break a law or two. Do you know who is the supreme law on a vessel when it is not docked or landed, Ms. Liala?"

One eyebrow raised, and she locked eyes with him--not a hostile gesture, and in fact her gaze had a hint of respect in it.....and also the fact that she was not afraid of or intimidated by him.
She had to admit, however, that he did have her, in one way, at least....and as her desire to catch the Cylon collaborator far outweighed her pride, she saw reason to admit it.

"I am not accustomed to working aboard ships, Captain...and certainly not following a vacation, with nothing to back me up. Under normal operations, you realize, my superiors would have worked with your company....handled this all without either of us really getting involved. If you do indeed view yourself as the law aboard this vessel--which I admit there is indeed precedent for.....Then I make my apologies for failing to first contact you and secure permission to enter Mister Huffland's quarters. However, on that same note, I feel you should be aware....Although I will do so if you request it....If you require me to contact you before any action taken, before I go anywhere or interview anyone....It will severely hamper my investigation, and place this vessel at risk."

"No, Ms. Liala, you are not required to contact me before such action. You are required to consider the repercussions of your actions. And let me assure you that I do not 'view myself as the law' aboard this vessel…I AM the law on this vessel. But then, don't take my word for it: ask any of my bridge crew, ask any captain who has received his Captain's license, or simpler, read a nice book on maritime law. But for the moment, let me tell you the repercussions of your actions aboard this ship. The bar manager informs me that you had him wake or find nearly ever bartender on this ship last night. And Mr.Martin Reynard, you will recall the ship designer, the drunkard? he gave me quite an earful a few hours ago; all about his second time to be questioned. I'm not stopping your investigation. I want the saboteur caught. But at the same time, the well-being of all hands is my primary concern, and this includes the fact that your tactics have nearly caused a panic."

"Captain. While you may indeed be the law on this vessel, I am currently--and believe me I take little pleasure in this fact--the law of the Colonies, as" here she paused, unwilling to say it aloud, not wanting to say it aloud, and make it real "...Acting Director of the CBI. And should you have a problem with my actions....I wish to remind you of one thing: You, even at the beginning of this
meeting, and beforehand....Have made it very clear you want this person caught, as soon as possible. You have made it clear you want this person caught VERY soon, indeed. I used the tactics I did because of the urgency of the situation....Both as it is, and as you portrayed it. Perhaps we have both stumbled here, Captain. My tactics may have been aggressive....But they were, in part, due to your concerns and seeming desires. I do not have at my disposal anything I normally would. I don't have a team....I don't have a database, I don't have any technology, any intelligence available, or anywhere else to go, besides this ship, while I conduct this investigation. Perhaps we might be suited best if we discuss, at this very moment, exactly what you want, in terms of this investigation.....What trade-offs you are willing to make, in both directions, in terms of striking a balance between avoiding a panic.....and avoiding the saboteur getting a chance to strike again."

"I sympathize with your lack of resources. And I won't tell you how to conduct your investigation except to say this; entering a sleeping man's room and awakening him at gunpoint, threatening to kill him.. and awakening a drunk in the middle of the night.. these might not be the best ways to conduct interviews. I don't know how to advise you to be hasty, but to avoid panic. That is your job and I respect it. Just as I want you to consider what your procedures can create.

She nodded.

"Certainly, Captain. As for my job....Yes. However, as you pointed out....it is YOUR ship. What we have here, Captain" and here a slight, sad smirk of sorts--directed not at him but at the universe--crossed her face "Is a situation which has, in many ways and by many people, been faced through history. Squabbling over unclear or unclarified jurisdiction....Between one law enforcement agency--" she indicated him, as he had stated himself as the law aboard the Grandeur, by maritime law "--and another." she said, indicating herself.

"To avoid any future misfortune....I do believe it would be best if we laid down some ground rules. For instance: Do you wish, except in dire emergency, for my to avoid waking *anyone* during the night? Or am I allowed to exercise my own discretion in such matters? And what, if any, actions would you prefer me to obtain your permission for, before performing?"

“You can wake whom you wish at the time you deem, Ms. Liala. But if you choose to wake them with a nudge of a barrel, there may be some harsh words spoken by me about that."

He smiled, relieved that they were having a discussion and not an argument.

"You conduct your investigation as you merit, while considering how it will affect the passengers and crew, and myself. As for the 'unclarified jurisdiction", I submit to you that it IS clarified. Your jurisdiction is within The twelve Colonies, while mine is aboard this ship between marked territory of the Colonies, and space beyond The Twelve Colonies."

Her eyebrow went up again.

"And therein lies the problem....When we will likely never again return to set foot upon said territories. Given such, Captain, it could be argued, then, that if your jurisdiction is this ship, and other captains, their ships....then my jurisdiction is" and another smirk, this one sad, angry, and ironic, crossed her face "--everything outside the airlock, and nothing more. But that doesn't help matters much...especially with...." and here her voice dropped slightly, uncertain whether it was even proper to voice such things "....certain other matters, as concerning the ultimate authority in the fleet....Currently open for interpretation and up in the air."

“Captain Gibbs was correct when he said that our immediate concern is survival, and the ever-near Cylons. we need to worry about living and escaping the Cylons, before we need to discuss the government. In the meantime, Acting Director, I apologize for keeping you from your investigation."

He certainly had a point there--One she agreed with, in fact. Survival, first and foremost.....and other concerns later. She simply wished that said immediate concerns--such as the need to catch the sabotuer--were not linked, as had become clear here, in some ways, to some of the things that were to be dealt with at a later date.

He stood now and offered his hand. "If there is anything I can do to assist, do not hesitate to contact me."

She nodded, and gave him a respectful smile, glad that they had been able to preserve what had so far been a fairly effective working relationship.

"Thank you, Captain. I do have a request, actually....A few of them."

"First of all....I am afraid that there are simply not enough security personnel aboard this ship to cover critical areas. As such, I was hoping that perhaps such areas could be covered with cameras, those that are not covered already. Would you happen to have any spares, aboard this ship....And would you consent to their installation, should I be able to find any such cameras?"

"Granted. I'll have one of the bridge officers show you to the broadcasting station. You can take whatever you wish. Speak with the Broadcast manager and have him and his crew install cameras where you and Mr. Dirac decide.

"Excellent. As for my other requests...As I stated earlier, I am afraid that at this moment, all twelve initial suspects have turned up as dead ends....With either solid alibis, as it currently stands, or no way to confirm of deny anything, as is the case with Mister Huffland. As such, would it be possible for me to be granted access to crew and passenger records and data, to see if I can identify additional potential suspects?"

“Absolutely. You have 100% access."

"Thank you, Captain. And finally...." here, a slight smile played across her lips once more "....You mentioned earlier, concerning maritime law...I confess to having little knowledge of it. I have never before worked aboard a ship, and had I ever been assigned to do so previously, I would have review such law prior to the assignment. As such....Would you happen to have such texts, that it might be possible for me to review?"

“Of course. Ask Dirac to get some sent to your cabin from the library…But don't spend much time on reading those books…Go get that saboteur."

She nodded once more, and reached out a hand, for a parting shake.


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sun Jun 04, 2006 6:50 am 
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Battlestar Libra
Port Flight Pod
D01 T1805 CUT

From: Lt. Patrick M. Cardelli
To: Major Kraig Maur, Commander Benito Rodrigues
Re: Ragnar supplies

For your information…

I have conducted a preliminary review of the supplies moved from the Ragnar Anchorage station and onto the Libra and Perseus. There are some very promising discoveries to report, the details of which I am working out with Petty Officer Alexandra MacLean. Suffice it to say that I believe it will be possible to equip at least one squadron of Vipers with limited FTL capability within a matter of months.

For technical details I would speak to PO MacLean, since she is the one who would have the best estimate as to when a prototype would be ready. Fighter FTL capability would greatly increase our ability to defend our new fleet, so I eagerly look forward to the day when we can add this enhancement to ALL of our fleet’s fighters.

Message ends.

..

Lt. Sadie Brant finally found Patrick inside one of the “Rhino Assault Transports” in the mostly deserted port flight pod. She noted before stepping inside of the RAT that several sections of the rear hull plating had been removed and a good deal of the ship’s FTL drive was exposed. Curious she moved into the ship and noticed Cardelli sitting in the cockpit with the navigation computer turned on. He was checking its readouts carefully.

“Everyone else is either getting a bite to eat or catching up on sleep. Are you some kind of robot yourself perhaps?” She bit one corner of her lower lip as she watched him perk up at the sound of her voice.

“Nope,” Patrick told his new ECO. “But they medicated me after setting my broken arm so I’ve had some sleep. And as for chow…” he thought silently to himself for a moment. “…let’s just say that the new deck chief from the starboard flight pod and I have been discussing some potentially valuable ideas and I’ll grab a quick sandwich after I explore the possibilities a bit more.”

“So everyone else is trying to wind down and you’re in here working yourself up more and more,” she smirked, sitting down in one of the empty seats in the main transport area of the RAT.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Patrick replied. “I’m just taking a closer look at how the FTL computer is integrated with the hardware that drives the engine and executes the jump process. There’s a very good chance that we might be able to add at least limited FTL capability to our vipers.”

“Do you have a lot of experience with how the human mind works Patrick?” she asked him, crossing her long legs. He glanced over his shoulder at her question and she noticed that – despite the slacks she wore – he couldn’t help taking a quick glance downward.

“That’s Lieutenant Cardelli to you,” he said firmly, turning back to the console in front of him. Giving him a disapproving shake of her head, Sadie reached into the cockpit and touched one of the wall controls. Behind him he could hear the electronic sound of the RAT’s hatch closing and he took a deep, slightly irritated breath before spinning in his seat and looking her in the eyes. “Just what exactly are you trying to pull Brant?”

“The human mind is like a battery,” she continued, shaking her medium-length dark hair around her shoulders. “And yesterday we all went through hell.” She returned his gaze intently. “Some people will choose to store all that pent up rage, anger and grief deep inside of them and if they don’t find a way to dispose of it the emotion will either eventually boil out of them all at once or gradually… in the form of self-destructive behavior.”

“We have Doctors on board who can help people with the trauma, their coping skills and emotional pain…” Cardelli pointed out. “Add to that the fact that we’ve all lost people and I think that the rest of us will be able to help comfort those most heavily impacted also.”

She stood up and moved to stand directly behind his seat. “I know that,” Sadie said. “But I’m your new ECO, and it’s up to you and me to keep each other balanced and steady at all times. We’re a team and there’s no way we can keep each other safe if we don’t find a decent method of purging some of that anxiety as it builds inside of us. I don’t want to start using stims to keep me on my toes and I’m sure you don’t want to have to pilot a ship with a hangover after a night of serious binge drinking.”

He thought about what she said very carefully for a moment. “Are you saying that you think self destructive behavior is inevitable, given this kind of an ongoing crisis?”

She leaned down next to him and the edge of her dark hair brushed tantalizingly against his cheek. “I’m saying,” Sadie declared with a soft whisper, “that a woman in her 30’s is at her sexual peak. Not too many men would hesitate to take advantage of that… particularly with the extremely rare situation we currently find ourselves in where a few moments of privacy is now a very special gift.” She exhaled slightly and he felt her warm breath on his left ear as a hot, warm fuzzy flash passed in front of his eyes.

Everything happened so fast that he had no idea who kissed who first. It was probably better that way, he figured, since if they knew then the person who had initiated the encounter would simply endure endless teasing from the other. Patrick's desire rose from deep within him as Sadie tried to remove his tank top. The garment caught on the edge of his cast. Smiling with utter delight at his frustrated expression she tore the shirt cleanly down the middle and tossed the remnants on the floor.

His mouth was suddenly buried in the small of her neck and he picked her up, feeling her long muscular legs wrap tightly around his body. Grinning she pulled her own tank top over her head and dropped it without a second thought. Patrick’s expression was one of complete control and the only sign of his growing excitement was the rapid increase of his breathing. Watching her outer shirt fall he immediately grabbed the T-Shirt under it with both hands and ripped it cleanly down the middle.

She had on a white bra and he quickly unsnapped the clip between her breasts and finished removing all of her clothing from the waste up. He leaned her back in one of the empty chairs and slid to his knees, and when his tongue began exploring the area around her belly button she uttered an absolute cry of pure pleasure and delight – unable to hold back.

“Come on, you magnificent young buck,” she prompted him, her voice low and husky as she too struggled to maintain control of herself. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Her hands found the sides of his body and she couldn’t believe how rock hard his muscles were. She slowly explored upward, running her hands back and forth across his muscular frame until she found his arms and shoulders. Making certain she was gentle with his broken arm she continued running the flat of her hands all over his skin, exploring every nook and crevice of his athletic, well conditioned body.

They continued undressing each other and she pressed one of her naked breasts into his mouth as he finished removing her pants. With his unbroken right arm, he slipped his fingers under her panties and pulled them down the length of her beautiful legs, then flipped them over his shoulder and suddenly they were kissing again… kissing and unable to get enough of the taste of another warm, living human being.

Again her legs wrapped around him and they toppled to the floor with a brief laugh before things quickly got serious again and the intensity continued to build. They moved together in perfect, slow rhythm and Sadie and Patrick both gasped repeatedly with pleasure as they softly and playfully made love.

Her teeth bit into his shoulder and her fingernails dug into his bared back. The sensation of the brief bursts of pain combined with his heightened state of pleasure drove him completely wild. As a soft cry of delight escaped her lips he realized that she was right… he could feel all of the boxed emotions inside of him erupting out of him and actually intensifying the experience.

..

Afterwards he put on the one good tank top that was left and gave her the remaining T-Shirt. They picked up the rest of their clothes and finished dressing before Sadie opened the hatch to the RAT.

Stepping out of it and back onto the hangar bay, she noticed a deckhand in an orange jumpsuit passing by. He stopped in his tracks and froze as his eyes caught sight of her hardened nipples poking through the thin T-shirt. Smiling playfully she waved her small bra at him and said “What’s the matter fella, you’ve never seen a woman in heat before?”

Laughing, Patrick and Sadie made their way back into the ship and climbed into the showers to try and wash away the past 24 hours. Patrick felt refreshed and invigorated as he thoroughly cleaned himself, and he smiled with confidence as Sadie glanced at his naked body. For a moment he caught her actually blushing and he smiled with triumph.

He had discovered that she put on a really good show playing the part of the experienced older woman, but he had truly revealed her today for what she was… a vulnerable human being in need of love and nurturing just as much as he was.

One other person was in the shower with them and he finished up quickly and left. They continued watching each other’s naked, lather coated bodies patiently as the man dressed in the locker room beyond, and when the sound of the outer hatch closing reached them and they were once again alone it took only seconds before they were on each other for a second time. With the hot steaming water streaming down around them they made wild passionate love the way only a man and a woman could.


Last edited by SonOfTed on Sun Jun 04, 2006 5:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Sun Jun 04, 2006 12:09 pm 
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Psy unrolled her sleeping bag in the middle of the floor of the sleeping quarters and gave a small grimace. “Oh buck up girl you have slept in worse places....True you back was not a mass of bruises but you would have had to lie on your stomach even if you were in a proper bed.”She said softly to her self.

Needing to desperately put some kind of distance between her self and HIM on this small ship Psy had decided to use the pretence of needing some sleep. She had changed out of her assistant guise and into her sleep wear which consisted of a small tank and sleeping shorts, She also had her favourite book the dandilon picture as a bookmark and her flash light with her. Her hair which she would usually braid before bed was left loose because of her head injury.

With a quick glance behind her she crawled into her hard bed and lay on her tummy and by the light of her flashlight she began to read in the hopes the book would drown out her thoughts of HIM. And as she became more absorbed into the text of her book she found that this ploy seemed to be working letting her unwind and eventually actually falling asleep.

***********

Psy looked around her open Dandelion field and sighed, she was free agin and in her own personal haven, and more importantly the night mare of her father was not there to greet her. She walked a few steeps before she sensed that all though her father may not be there she was not alone. Heavily suspecting what she would find when she turned around Psy took a deep breath and looked. Finding exactly what she suspected to, Psy groaned in frustration for there was the very man she was trying to get away from and it now appeared that even her dreams had betrayed her.

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PostPosted: Sun Jun 04, 2006 1:55 pm 
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Previously on Battlestar Libra…

Petty Officer Second Class Alexandra MacLean wasn’t ready to be deck chief, but with Deck Chief Sutton’s untimely death, Commander Rodrigues had thrust those responsibilities onto Mac. So far, all she’d really had the chance to do was organize getting supplies and parts from Ragnar Anchorage, a task that had gone relatively smoothly.

Trouble seemed to be brewing from a few of the nightshift knuckledraggers, though, who weren’t happy that Mac was acting Deck Chief. She had stood up to them, but after they left, she’d checked their personnel records. All three involved had previous write-ups in their records—nothing major, but still marks against them. Hopefully everyone would be too busy to cause problems.

And there was the seed of an idea in her mind, planted by Lt Cardelli… FTL capable Vipers.

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Last edited by GoldWolf on Sun Jun 04, 2006 6:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Sun Jun 04, 2006 5:55 pm 
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Previously on Battlestar Libra…

Antonia Seda hadn’t been overly worried about the possible destruction of the Colonies. Her primary concern had been about herself; she was a survivor, and she planned on coming through this in the best possible position.

Which for her meant making alliances with people who she thought would be useful to her. She was on the Astral Dawn to provide bodyguard services to Thaddeus Wernick, CFO of D’Argent Corp., but that assignment wouldn’t actually have begun until they’d reached their destination. She thought that Wernick’s position as a business and political heavyweight might help her, but she wanted all bases covered—so she was assessing other passengers on the Dawn.

Tommy T. Templeton had caught Toni’s attention right away, for his size—tall and muscular, if she needed someone to protect her, he’d be the one. And not just for his size, but for his obvious doesn’t-give-a-shit attitude.

She knew exactly how to ally with Tommy. And she was sure he’d be completely agreeable.

= = = = = = = = = = =

D1 T1830
Antonia Seda, on the Astral Dawn

Toni knew Tom would be more than agreeable. He would, she smiled, be eager. All she needed to do was get him away from his babysitter.

She didn’t know exactly who the ‘babysitter’ was, but she guessed--parole officer. He had that look and… smell about him. That made Tom an ex-con, which was even better for her plans. It was not surprising that he’d nearly been drooling when they’d talked at the bar…

Toni sat across from Wernick at the small table, waiting for the server to bring wine. She’d learned, in recent years, how to appreciate the finer things in life, and she’d ordered a fairly expensive bottle for the two of them.

“How long to do think that vintage will last?” Wernick asked her with irony.

“Not long enough,” she replied, smiling, “So we might as well enjoy it while we can.” She and Wernick had come to an agreement on their working relationship several years ago, the first time she was assigned as his bodyguard. He’d made a half-hearted pass at her, and she’d let him know that while she appreciated the gesture, frakking him wasn’t on her list of recreational activities.

Her next assignment with him was to pose as his wife, at a meeting to determine if D’Argent wanted to take over a competing corporation. She was years younger than Wernick, the “trophy” wife, and she’d frakked him once, right before a dinnertime meeting. She’d used every trick she knew, and it had the desired effect. He’d been so distracted during the meeting, the reason obvious, that Roger Anderson, the CFO of the competition, completely underestimated Wernick’s ruthlessness. That made it all the easier for Toni to get Anderson into bed, and to copy the competing company’s files from his laptop as he slept. When Toni gave the small disk drive to Wernick, he understood exactly what had driven her actions. He’d been amazed and impressed by the ease at which she’d gotten the valuable information; she in turn had been impressed at how easily he’d decrypted and understood the files on the tiny drive. And they each understood and respected the other’s profession and professionalism.

The server arrived with the wine, and neither spoke until their glasses had been filled and the server moved away.

“You realize, with the Colonies destroyed, there is no guarantee that this lifestyle can continue,” Wernick said evenly, his gaze flickering around the posh dining room. He smiled cynically. “An organized economy no longer exists. At best, for the short-term, the value of currency will probably be based on a barter system.”

Toni smiled, sipping the wine, and nodded.

“Yes,” he acknowledged with a cold smile. “You best of anyone would understand that.”

“We each have our marketable skills,” she said, still smiling. “I’m sure you’ll be one of the founders of our new economic system.”

He nodded, irony again in his expression. “You can be sure I’ll offer my expertise to whatever form of government is set up. You, on the other hand…” he picked up his wine glass and toasted her silently with it, then drank. He continued, “You already have your, ah, barter system gearing up.”

She nodded, running a fingertip around the lip of the crystal glass. It hummed softly.

“He’s an ex-convict, you know,” Wernick said, mostly to see her reaction.

“Yes,” she agreed calmly.

“I talked to his parole officer briefly, earlier today,” Wernick went on. “Tommy Templeton was in for terrorist activities.”

“Oh?” Toni was slightly surprised. From the look of him, she would have thought his offence would most likely have been some sort of individual violent crime… perhaps he’d killed someone in a fight.

“He was one of Zarek’s people,” the accountant said.

She raised an elegant eyebrow. Interesting…

Wernick shook his head with a smile. “That doesn’t bother you,” he commented.

Toni smiled. “Thaddeus, dear, I’ve known a great many people much worse than that.”

He gave a small snort. “Why does that not surprise me?” he asked rhetorically.

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 Post subject: D 01 1800 Lt. Mark "Bull" Chandler
PostPosted: Sun Jun 04, 2006 7:48 pm 
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Previously on Battlestar Libra

Lt. Mark Chandler was a good Viper pilot; life aboard the Battlestar Delphinus had been everything he thought it would be: he flew an older machine, but is was in excellent condition (he saw to that himself, perfectionist that he was), his career progressed as planned, and he had even made some friends... Then the cylons attacked, and he watched, powerless, as the Delphinus rammed a basestar in one final gallant act of heroism.

He found himself on the Libra, seething with anger and a wish for revenge. He knew nobody there... And then he met her - Spec. Sonia Chekhov: he was drawn to her like a moth to the flame, equal parts fascination and guilt, because he's alive and his comrades are dead, because he should not have felt such lust as their worlds collapsed about them, because he'd always known there was something wrong with him...

But is it so bad to just talk with her?

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PostPosted: Sun Jun 04, 2006 8:42 pm 
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Written with Eaglestar51

D1 T1845
PO2 Alexandra MacLean

“Oh, frak this,” she muttered, standing up and stretching. She rubbed her face tiredly, heading out of the office, then paused and picked up Chief Sutton’s dogtags, and the small box with Chief Petty Officer insignia in it.

She headed off the deck, her head down, thinking about Mark VII Vipers and the size of a Raptor’s FTL drive… and trouble-making knuckledraggers… and all the ships sitting on the deck that needed repair… and she turned the corner—

“OOF!” she exclaimed, running right into someone. And bouncing off. She took a quick step to keep her balance, and the person she’d run into steadied her, holding onto her shoulders.

She looked up at Frankie Laffitte and blinked.

"Ah, ma petite," he smiled widely, "you are a sight for sore eyes! What? No smile for me? Have you forgotten me already?"

She smiled then, but wearily. “Frankie, I could never forget you,” she assured him. “I just… oh, I’m tired and I have too much to think about.” And now all I want to think about is you… get a grip, girl. You can’t let yourself start feeling that way about a guy like him. “You’re in civvies,” she observed. “What sort of mischief have you been up to?”

He opened his eyes with feigned innocence. "Moi? Mischief? You must have confused me with someone else, ma petite." But she looked so tired he didn't have the heart to keep on teasing her. "Me and some others were sent to the Grandeur, to help on... " He didn't know if he was supposed to keep it secret, so he decided to err on the side of caution, "something that came up. We may have to go back, too. But now I'm here, and I am happy man, because I've seen you!"

His irrepressible manner cheered her, lifting her spirits. Well there’s nothing that says I can’t have a little fun… frak knows Chief Sutton would approve! She continued down the passageway, linking her arm through his. “And I am a happy girl to have seen you. I might,” she gave him a mock serious look, acting doubtful, “I might even let you buy me some lunch. Or dinner. Or whatever meal it is they’re serving right now!” Her hand tingled where it rested on his strong arm. Gods know I could use a distraction right now.

"Food! Of course!" He assumed an exaggerated villain's mien, going as far as twisting a nonexistent moustache with his free hand, "I shall bribe you with whatever delicacies the mess is serving, and you will deny me nothing!" Whatever effect he was going for was ruined by his broad smile. Because, truth be told, for reasons he could not understand, being around the small knuckledragger made his heart light.

Mac burst out laughing. “I think either you are a hopeless optimist, or else you have been eating the food in the mess for waaay too long, to call them ‘delicacies’!” She smiled again as he paused to let her go through the hatch into the enlisted mess; he bowed extravagantly as she passed, and she took his arm again as they got in line. “If you want me to deny you nothing, you’ll have to take me to a nicer place than this!”

They each got a tray of food and went to sit in a--relatively speaking—quiet corner. “You were on the Grandeur,” she commented, pausing to chew and swallow. She’d noticed his vague answer, and asked, “Did you get a chance to see much? Is it as grand as its name?”

"I didn't see much, cherie; just the inside of a stateroom and lots of tapes from the security cameras. But from what I saw, it is very grand indeed. Très élégant! The bulkheads are paneled in wood, and crystal chandeliers hang everywhere." He looked at her and gave her a lopsided smile. "I would like to take you there, ma petite. You would wear a pretty dress and your eyes would shine and the flowers would hide in shame because they cannot compete with your beauty."

Oh, he DOES have a honeyed tongue! Mac thought with amusement. “And you would wear a tailored suit that shows off your broad shoulders and we would dance all night long,” she replied impishly. She stifled a yawn and pushed away her empty tray. Oh, but I only wish! “And I would forget for a little while that I have a deck full of broken birds that need to be fixed,” she added wryly.

"No, ma petite, I would wear my dress uniform and look fierce and forlorn as you danced with all the men but me..." He didn't add that the reason she would not dance with him was he didn't know how. "But until we can go to the Grandeur, what about some dessert? I'll even bring it to you."

She chuckled. “Well, I’m sure you would look quite handsome in your dress uniform, but you wouldn’t have to look forlorn while I danced with anyone else—‘cause I don’t know how to dance.” She shook her head. “When I grew up, we… my dad and brothers and me… were always fixing things. Dancing was too—frivolous.” She sighed. “Dessert would be great, Frankie.”

He left to get some dessert, and Mac rubbed her eyes tiredly. She put her arms on the table and rested her head for just a second.

And fell asleep.

Frankie returned with two pieces of something the fleet called "cheesecake," but which bore little resemblance, in taste or texture, to that particular concoction.

She was asleep.

He sat next to her and rested his head on his arms, just like her. He had intended to blow in her face, to wake her up, but she looked so peaceful he didn't have the heart to do it... He closed his eyes to blow her a kiss.

And fell asleep too.


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