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 Post subject: Episode 27: Dominoes
PostPosted: Fri Jul 06, 2007 9:06 pm 
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Previously on Battlestar Libra…


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

Fleetwide broadcast by activist FreedomFighter:

"There are those of us who fervently believe that the civilian captains throughout our fleet have far too much unchecked power over the lives of those who reside aboard their vessels, and the time has come to change that. With the help of loyal supporters, I have taken control of the Nimbus away from her captain and crew."

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

Destroyer Perseus CIC:

Commander Vansen, loosened his grip on the display. “Stand down to Condition Two. Find the problem, people, and fix it.”

“Commander.” XO Baker said. “I think.. I think it’s our saboteur again.”

“That’s what I think too, Charlie. Somebody is frakkin’ with our ship, our home. Get Lt. Palmisano up here. We have a job for him and the marines.”

“Commander, that glitch I detected.” It was Lt. McDonnell.

“Yeah.” Vansen agreed. “Our saboteur likes to play with computer programming.”

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

Agricultural Research Station Harvest Moon,
Astrometrics Lab:


Trap Moreland became motionless, studying the object with total absorption. “By the gods, it’s a mathematician’s talisman… what is it really, David?” He bent at the waist to look at it more closely. “Aside from the fact that it’s obviously a star map, as you said.” He straightened, gesturing to it, and looked expectantly from Dedrick to Andy Peterson and back.

"This is Kallistos' Plate," David answered. "I'll give you the full details in a moment, but to summarize - it is an encoded star map that will give us the location of the first step of a journey straight out of Colonial legend, a journey that ultimately leads us to Earth."

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

Battlestar Taurus,
Private quarters of William and Jenni Guynes:


"So, how about we settle the name of the baby tonight?" Jenni Guynes smiled as she curled up next to her husband.

"I was actually thinking about that today and a few other names came to mind."

"I thought we were down to the final two? We can't call her 'It' when she's born."

William lightly laughed "Okay, but hear me out. How about..."

There was a buzz from the handset and the unmistakable page from Major Amanda Bays, "CIC to Commanding Officer".

William Guynes quickly grabbed the handset. "This is the Commander, go ahead, Major."

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

Luxury Liner Nimbus


LCpl. Francois Laffitte opened the hatch and walked in silently, so as not to disturb CPO MacLean. Cpl. Josette Benoit Jo was sitting on a chair next to the bed, her rifle across her lap, quietly reading a book.

Mac was sleeping, fully clothed on top of the bedcovers, but she woke up as soon as Frankie came in, sitting up. She looked at him searchingly. “Did you--?” she asked.

He nodded grimly. "One, mon amour. The other is under custody. In sick bay. Ramona Neuman," he explained.

She sighed with obvious relief. “Oh, good,” she murmured. She looked at him more closely and asked, “Are you okay, Frankie?”

"I'm okay, love," he lied. "How are you?"

“I’m so tired,” she laid down again. “Frankie, will you sit with me?” she patted the bed.

He sat next to her, carefully. He longed to hold her in his arms and caress the hurt away, but he was afraid... So he sat there, tense and unmoving. "Is it..." he swallowed hard. "Can I hold your hand, ma petite?"

She pulled on his arm. "Lay down here with me," she murmured.

Josette nodded his way and resumed "reading;" Frankie stretched on the bed next to his beloved Alexandra, kissed her brow gently and closed his eyes, the better to hear her breathe.

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

Destroyer Perseus CIC:

"Sir, you should have a look at this!" Captain Baker called Commander Vansen over to the Damage Control board.

"We don't know what happened, but look at this," he pointed at the only section of Perseus that was highlighted right now, "the only area that was decompressed are the hallways around the Auxilliary CIC. And they are too deep inside the ship to be breached manually."

Vansen knew exactly where this was going and he didn't like it one bit. "You mean these hallways have been vented?"

"Exactly Sir. And whoever did it is sitting in AuxCIC..."


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

Luxury Liner Nimbus, Section 'Baker':

Harper stood there, still with his pistol up, aiming. There hadn’t been time for anyone to move in that tiny moment of suspension when there had been no power.

“Nobody fraks with me,” Ron ‘Anarchist’ Harper stated.

He turned, looking at them all, and then picked his target.

He smiled.

And fired.

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PostPosted: Fri Jul 06, 2007 9:09 pm 
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Luxury Liner Nimbus AuxCon
Day 205 Time 0158

Dr (Maj) Ralph DeValera had been listening to the Marine chatter over the combat net, as well as to the feed from the wire on Captain Barrington. The sound of the shot came clearly over the net.

DeValera snapped, “Get those passageways pressurized, now!” The passages could be pressurized faster than he could get a suit on, and if someone needed to be evacuated, it would be much easier that way.

Over the combat net, DeValera said, “Duncan, they’re pressurizing the passages and I’m on my way in.” He knew that the Marine Major heard him by the two clicks of acknowledgment that came through the earpiece.

As the Nimbus AuxCon crew worked frantically to do as the doctor commanded, DeValera pulled on his armored vest, fastening it tightly, and he grabbed his combat medic pack, getting ready to head to Section Baker.

MILINT Lieutenant Alain DesChamps scanned the few screens that had been quickly set-up in a makeshift surveillance post, cursing once more under his breath at their lack of video intell on the hostage-takers. Satisfied that repressurization was proceeding rapidly, he checked his sidearm and then donned an armor vest, preparing to join Dr. DeValera.

Jerrod White, the AuxCon chief on Nimbus looked up from the control panel he was operating, "Full atmosphere is restored and locks are coming open...the board is clean and green."


Time 0159

_________________
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: Fri Jul 06, 2007 9:50 pm 
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Luxury Liner Nimbus; a Raptor docked to the ship’s hull
Day 205 Time 0158

As soon as the Nimbus crewmember in AuxCon confirmed that the power had been cut, Lance Corporal Wolfe energetically attacked the exterior hatch wheel, bracing his feet for leverage. Normally, opening the hatch from the outside of the ship would have been a two-person task, but the big Marine’s strength was more than enough. The wheel moved slowly at first, the soft grinding sound indication that the hatch hadn’t been operated for some time. Wolfe strained, grunting.

The flat crack of the gunshot over the comnet startled none of them.

“Kaashi,” S’Jahar whispered. Shit.

With a few more turns of the wheel, Wolfe had the hatch open.

The pressure inside the Raptor nearly matched that inside the ship, and only a faint hiss sounded, then Wolfe lowered the hatch and moved back. As he did, Duncan heard the doctor’s transmission that he was coming in. He knew that DeValera had planned for this contingency, having brought a combat medic’s pack with him.

Major Duncan gave Wolfe a quick slap on the arm as he hopped down into the meter-high gap between the outer hull and the inner platform that was the overhead of the passage they were about to jump into. There was a second hatch, which gave Duncan much less resistance than the outer hatch had given Wolfe. This one hinged upward, and Duncan secured it against the stops, then he dropped into the passage, instantly moving away so the others could follow.

He didn’t bother to look back. He knew they were on his heels as he headed for the hatch to the storage compartment: Benoit and S’Jahar behind him, with Morgan leading Algashi and Wolfe toward the maintenance room door.


Time 0159

_________________
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: Fri Jul 06, 2007 9:58 pm 
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Luxury Liner Nimbus Section Baker
Day 205 Time 0158

The sound of the gunshot was nearly deafening in the storage compartment, the shock of what Harper had just done immobilizing everyone.

Everyone except Harper himself. He didn’t even glance at the body on the floor. He still had the gun up, and he aimed it at those still standing, one by one. “Who’s next?” he asked, his eyes gleaming, the smile still on his face.

“Put it down, Harper,” Hunt said, sounding much calmer than he felt. His heart was pounding in his chest. He kept talking because he could hear sounds that were unmistakable, to him. There’s a team coming in, they’ll be here in just a few seconds! “No one else needs to be killed, just put it down.”

“Is that so,” the Anarchist replied softly, pointing the pistol at Hunt’s face. “They’re coming for us, I can hear them. They’ll shoot us all, anyway, so I might as well do it myself.” He moved his aim from Hunt to the activist standing next to Hunt.

“It’s over, Ron,” Hunt smoothly moved a step closer, his eyes on Harper’s hands gripping the pistol.

“No, Hunter, it’s never over,” Harper responded. Slowly he began to squeeze the trigger.

A sound in the passageway was just enough to distract Harper for a split second.

That split second was followed by two events that happened almost—almost—simultaneously.

First, Hunt leapt at Harper, reaching, getting one hand over Harper’s on the butt of the pistol, and the other around the muzzle of the gun. He started to pull with one hand, push with the other.

And then Harper jerked the trigger, firing a second shot.


Time 0159

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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: Fri Jul 06, 2007 10:08 pm 
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Luxury Liner Nimbus Section Baker
Day 205 Time 0158

Gunnery Sergeant Razorski and her assault team were jammed into the airlock that led into Section Baker’s main passage. As soon as the emergency power came on, Razorski hit the button that started pressurizing the airlock. For an area that size, she estimated it would take about thirty seconds before they’d be able to open the hatch into the passage.

She’d counted to seventeen when they all heard the shot.

“Frak,” one of the team members muttered.

The Gunnery Sergeant didn’t respond, but she shared the sentiment.

When she’d reached thirty-two in her count, the pressure equalization light flashed green, and she opened the hatch, charging down the passage at full speed.

They heard the second shot as much from proximity as over the comnet.

Half the team turned at the first cross-passage, then she led the other half down the next side passage. They would converge on the storage and maintenance rooms from both sides.


Time 0159

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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: Fri Jul 06, 2007 10:21 pm 
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Day 205,
0119 CUT
Colonial Destroyer Perseus

Gillian knew that soon the Marines would try to enter what she now called her lair, so she was frantically trying to rig some surprises for them...

And while her fingers were flying over the buttons at an unmatched speed, she giggled gleefully when her thoughts turned to what would come after that....
While they are distracted, I can go after my real target...


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


As soon as he had entered Specialist Bates' quarters, Lt. Palmisano knew they were in trouble.

"Holy Frak!" 'Tiger' Bridges exclaimed when he had secured the room. "This Lady has some serious problem man!" All Palmisano could do was nod.

Every last square inch of the walls was plastered with printouts, some were deck plans, some circuitry schematics and some seemed to be just Code...the only thing that seemed to be out of place was a small shrine that was nestled into one of the corners.
On it, a dozen small icons signified the gods were lying next to the incense and a few candles. But some of the icons had small pictures glued on them, like faces...and when he came closer, Palmisano recognised several of these faces!

Carylin Warrens face was attached to 'Aphrodite', the goddess of love and beauty and the faces of Aaron Dirac, Joy McCord and Hans Dean could also be found on some icons...

"Looks like she thinks the toasters are some kind of...reincarnation or something...." Bridges shook his head at that thought.
Without another word, Palmisano left the quarters to some Marines to go through it with a fine comb while he called a report to the Commander....

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PostPosted: Fri Jul 06, 2007 10:22 pm 
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Luxury Liner Nimbus Section Baker
Day 205 Time 0159

Major Scott Duncan sprinted into the storage room just as Harper fired his second shot. The Marine was already crouched low, and could see that he wasn’t the one being shot at; only seconds after the shot was fired, Hunt had wrested the gun from Harper’s grip.

The boy let go of the gun, ignoring it as it clattered to the deck. He didn’t let go of Harper, gripping the young man’s wrist with both hands, stepping closer, then turning and going to one knee smoothly, flipping Harper over his shoulder to land with a thud.

A quick glance showed Duncan that none of the others were armed… and someone had been shot. To Duncan’s left, S’Jahar had the muzzle of his rifle in the face of a young woman—probably someone very near his own age—and he said softly, “On your knees. Hands on your head.”

Benoit was similarly handling another activist, as were the others on the team, so Duncan turned his attention back to the fight before him. He saw at once that Hunt had things well under control, so he scooted the pistol out of range with his foot, and watched for a few seconds.

Hunt had Harper facedown on the deck, one knee on his back and his fingers firmly gripped in his hair, and he was rhythmically pounding Harper’s face into the deck. Finally, with a sigh, the Marine Major slung his rifle along his back and locked his left arm around Hunt from behind, dragging him up and off Harper. Hunt struggled, trying to get free.

“Enough, kid, enough,” Duncan said in a tone that the others would be able to easily hear; then, softly, he said in Hunt’s ear, “It’s okay, Hunt, it’s me, Scott Duncan.”

“Gods,” Hunt ground out in a raw voice, still trying to get out of Duncan’s grip. “He killed him!”

Duncan spoke quietly for Hunt only. “Yes. And you have a cover to maintain, so we’re going to arrest you.” Again loud enough for the others to hear, he said, “Settle down or I’ll have you for resisting arrest.”

A sudden movement in the hatch had Duncan turning to put his body between Hunt and the possible threat—then he saw it was Razorski. She gave him an expressionless look, and he took his hand off the handle of his knife.

Hunt suddenly sagged against Duncan’s arm. “Oh, gods,” he whispered.

“Hands behind your back,” Duncan said, and when Hunt complied, he used a zip-tie to bind his wrists. But he was careful not to make it too tight. “Are you all right?” he asked in an even voice.

Hunt turned to give him a puzzled look.

The Gunnery Sergeant stepped up, taking Hunt by the upper arm. She gently touched Hunt’s right side; his shirt was black from powder burns—and shiny with blood. She gave him a level gaze.

“I’m, uh… I’m okay,” Hunt said, barely biting back the words ‘Gunnery Sergeant’ in time.

She nodded and glanced at Duncan. They both could tell that Hunt’s injury wasn’t serious. “Doc’s on his way,” Duncan said to Razorski and Hunt both.

“Yessir,” the Gunnery Sergeant agreed.

The Major next went to quickly bind Harper’s wrists behind his back, even though the young man was obviously out of it. He wasn’t unconscious, but Duncan was certain he was pretty badly concussed… not to mention having a broken and bloody nose, a smashed and bleeding mouth, and a big lump on his forehead. As Duncan tightened the zip-tie, Harper stirred, muttering incoherently.

Duncan then went and knelt by the body, anger finally starting deep in his gut. He’d heard it happen, knew the cold-blooded way that Harper had fired… he’d shot his victim right in the face. The mess on the deck beneath his head told the story… Duncan knew that there was no chance he’d still be alive, but he felt for a pulse anyway.

Dr DeValera bolted in, Lt DesChamps at his heels, the Marines parting to let them through. Dr DeValera knelt next to Duncan, who still had his fingers on the body’s neck. Their eyes met, and Duncan shook his head slightly. DeValera took the body by the shoulder, turning it slightly. Half the back of the head was gone, gray lumps of brain tissue mixing with the blood on the deck.

Gently, Duncan put his hand on the body’s shoulder also, turning it face down. “Water to sand,” he said softly.

“He’s not clan,” DeValera commented.

“Barrington had enough guts to be,” Duncan replied.

_________________
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: Fri Jul 06, 2007 10:27 pm 
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0123, Day 205
Destroyer Perseus

Vansen let his Mardet CO, give his short report without interruption.

"She's either a cylon.. or insane." Vansen began, speaking into his handset. He could hardly believe what Palmisano had told him, that Gillian Bates was comparing the biological machines to the very gods. It was twisted, blasphemous.

"But that isn't priority. She's a danger to the ship." Vansen spoke in a controlled, calm tone to the marine Lt. "Get a team into AuxCIC, Eric. Take Bates alive if possible."

He ended the call, and made a ship-wide announcement.

"Condition One. I repeat Condition One. Prepare for internal damages. All safety protocols to be followed."

He put the handset on its cradle, and picked up another one, the one that had been prepped for emergency communication to Libra. He had to inform the Admiral of the danger.

On the Libra, Rodrigues picked up the handset. [“Libra Actual,”] he said into it.

"Perseus Actual, Admiral." Vansen said formally, letting Rodrigues know this was not going to be a social call. "Perseus has been compromised. A Specialist is in control of Auxiliary CIC, and is probable saboteur. Request that Perseus break fleet formation, and take new position at safe distance."

The Admiral pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. Frakking activists on Nimbus and now this, too… [“Acknowledged, Commander,”] he replied. [“Permission granted to break formation.”] He hesitated a second, then added, [“Do you need any help, Karl?”]

"There won't be any time; this will end very soon. Thanks for the offer, Ben."

[“All right—keep me posted. Libra Actual, out.”]


Last edited by Silon on Fri Jul 06, 2007 10:41 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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PostPosted: Fri Jul 06, 2007 10:28 pm 
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Day 205,
0131 CUT,
Colonial Destroyer Perseus

Carefully, the Marine on point opened the hatch to the last compartement that had atmosphere, the ZACs suit giving his movement the necessary power to force the blast door open.
Then, one after the other, the whole squad entered the makeshift-airlock before they closed the hatch behind them again.

"We're in...hold fast people, I'm opening the door!" Seargent 'Tiger' Bridges told the others, and when everyone else had signaled their okay, he started to open the hatch to the next compartement of the Destroyer.

As soon as the bolts had been retracted enough, the air pressure in the hallway the Squad of Marines was standing in forced the hatch to open. And even though none of them could hear the noise of the hatch hitting the bulkhead, they all felt the vibrations through their boots....

"You think she knows we're here boss?" Private Hyman asked over the Com.

"Of course she does...the question is, what will she do to stop us from reaching her?" LanceCorporal Miller answered the question before 'Tiger' had a chance to. "The problem is, AuxCIC is, like the 'real' CIC, has been constructed as a shelter area. The walls, floor and ceiling is thicker than anywhere else on the ship, save maybe ammo storage...depending on what she did to block the hatches, it might take hours to cut through them..."

"Which is why we should get there quick instead of standing around and telling stories!" 'Tiger' told them, a hint of a warning in his tone. "Did you forget what they told us in boot camp Ollie? 'As long as you can chatter with your comrades, you're not running fast enough?'"

After this, it was only a few minutes until the Squad reached the hatch to the Auxilliary CIC...only to find it locked securely.
Cursing in several different languages, PFC Rosemarie Hyman started to prepare the blowtorch...

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Last edited by Raider X on Mon Jul 09, 2007 7:58 am, edited 3 times in total.

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PostPosted: Sat Jul 07, 2007 2:58 pm 
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Luxury Liner Nimbus
Day 205 Time 0211
Major Scott Duncan, Dr Ralph DeValera, Lt Alain DesChamps
Hunt McCormack



Dr DeValera quickly checked Harper’s condition, telling Duncan, “Nothing serious. His nose is broken, and he’ll probably have a headache for a day or two… and I’ll need to put a couple stitches in that gash on his forehead, but I’m more worried about our other injured kid.”

Duncan nodded, leaving a still semi-conscious Harper in Gunnery Sergeant Razorski’s ‘care’ there in the storage room, and going with DeValera to another room just a short distance down the passage. It was obvious that Lt DesChamps had just gone in the room himself, having waited until none of the other activists were in sight.

“No questions until I take care of him,” DeValera ordered Duncan and DesChamps, asking Hunt as he opened his medic pack, “How are you feeling?”

“Thought you said no questions, Doc,” Hunt said, trying to joke, but he was pale and sweating.

“He doesn’t have to follow his own orders,” Duncan said darkly, but he was also joking. He flicked out his knife and cut the zip-tie binding Hunt’s wrists, then swept a few items off the long worktable in the room, gesturing for Hunt to sit up on it.

“I’m a doctor; of course I don’t have to follow my own orders,” DeValera replied. “How about using that knife of yours to get his shirt off, too, Scott.”

Duncan nodded, neatly cutting Hunt’s shirt off him. “Lay down, son,” he said, helping him to lie down on his side. “Hurts like a sonuvabitch, doesn’t it,” he said sympathetically.

“Yessir,” Hunt agreed softly.

“Blood loss isn’t too bad but I’m going to start an IV anyway,” DeValera told Hunt. He looked the young man up and down swiftly, adding, “Are you hurt anywhere else? Those bruises don’t look new.”

“No, sir, Harper worked me over a couple days ago,” Hunt replied.

DesChamps had been following their banter with a grim smile, but he turned serious when Hunt mentioned his previous fight with Harper. Meeting DeValera's questioning glance he nodded, saying "We met, and the medic from Nimbus' martial law detachment cleared him to continue his mission."

Quickly, DeValera started the IV, telling the young man, “I’m going to put a mild painkiller in this. You’ll feel a bit zoned, but your wound won’t hurt as much.” He also injected antibiotic into the IV line.

Hunt nodded, visibly relaxing as the medication took effect. “Gods, that was fast,” he murmured.

“In an IV, it is,” Duncan agreed. He and DesChamps watched as the doctor expertly and quickly cleaned Hunt’s gunshot injury.

“The bullet just grazed your side,” DeValera told Hunt reassuringly, “but the gun must have been pretty close… you have a nice muzzle burn here.”

“He was taking the pistol away from Harper,” Duncan said dryly. He regarded Hunt and said with a touch of humor, “Next time, turn sideways more; he’ll miss you then.”

“I’ll… remember that, sir,” Hunt replied. His gaze wasn’t quite focused. “He was gonna shoot… again. He was gonna shoot WildCat… Cat.”

“Got it nice and clean, now just putting on a topical anesthetic,” DeValera was telling Hunt what he was doing. “And a nice field dressing. Just lay still for a few minutes; I’m going to ease off the painkiller in the IV. Let me know if it starts hurting more.”

“Yessir,” Hunt nodded. He blinked and met Duncan’s gaze, then looked over at DesChamps. “He was going to shoot one of us before the power was cut. I could see it in his face… he shot Captain Barrington. He… he smiled. He liked making us sweat.” His voice was grim and dark with anger as he sat up on the edge of the table.

“How does that feel, Hunt?” DeValera asked.

Gingerly, Hunt touched the bandage. “Not too bad, sir,” he said with surprise. “Thanks.”

“You’ll start to feel the effects of it in a short time,” DeValera told him. He looked over at the Lieutenant. “Get him to Libra medical ASAP.”

"Aye, Doctor," DesChamps replied.

The doctor looked at Major Duncan. “Guess I’ll need to see to Harper now, hm?”

Duncan nodded. He glanced at DesChamps, at Hunt briefly, then back at DesChamps. The message was clear… ‘take care of him’. DesChamps nodded, then the two Majors left the room.

DesChamps placed a hand on Hunt's shoulder, meeting the young man's eyes. "You did well, Mister McCormack," he said. "Now, let's get you on a bird back to the Libra."

Hunt stood, a bit unsteady, assisted by DesChamps' hand around his upper arm. DesChamps laid the IV bag across Hunt's shoulder, and directed him to hold the arm with the IV needle across his chest. At the door to the room, DesChamps spoke to the Marine on guard, requesting that he help escort 'this prisoner' to a Raptor.


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PostPosted: Sun Jul 08, 2007 3:37 pm 
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Days 205,
0157 CUT,
Colonial Destroyer Perseus

The hatch had put up less resistance than expected, not even 20 minutes after she had started to work on it, PFC Hyman reported that she was almost finished.

"We still have another problem Sarge," she told 'Tiger' Bridges, "there's normal atmosphere behind that hatch and all that's going to vent out. The hatch will slam open and if it hits one of us, it's over, even with a ZAC-suit!"

"And what do you propose?"

"I work on it just a bit longer...then we retreat and just blow the last bolt on the hatch with a det-pack."

"Prepare everything," 'Tiger' told her before he switched to the command channel. "Lieutenant Palmisano, this is Seargent Bridges. We will be able to get into AuxCIC in a few minutes, but only by venting the entire AuxCIC."

Lt. Palmisano had been monitoring the radio traffic of the team for quite some time now and knew what Bridges was talking about.
"Alright Bridges, do it! I'll tell the Commander it wasn't possible to get Specialist Bates otherwise..."


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


Gillian Bates was so furious, she just barely repressed the urge to just start screaming incoherently when she saw what had happened.

Her plan had been so perfect, but the Crew of the Main CIC had been too quick with disconnecting AuxCIC...timing had been of essence, and Gillian had been too slow to fulfill the will of the gods! Now the whole sequence she had been programming was stuck in the computers of AuxCIC instead of getting into the ship's main systems to wreak havoc...

Of course, her plan might still work...but it would be close, too close for her liking.
Forcefully, she pressed a few buttons and, when a new console popped up, she entered one of the system administrator passwords. Within a few moments, the files started transferring....


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


On 'Tigers' signal, PFC Hyman detonated the small pack of explosives she had planted inside the locking mechanism of the hatch to the Destroyer's Auxilliary CIC. The explosion finished what was left of the hatches locking mechanism and the air pressure from within the AuxCIC threw the hatch open. With a large 'WHOOOOSH', the atmosphere from within the shelter-area vented into the hallway, carrying several smaller items like a pen and several sheets of paper with it.

Since there was no atmosphere, the Marines couldn't hear the explosion, but the vibrations were felt throughout the whole ship.
Quickly, they moved to secure the AuxCIC...

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Last edited by Raider X on Mon Jul 09, 2007 7:58 am, edited 2 times in total.

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PostPosted: Sun Jul 08, 2007 4:02 pm 
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Luxury Liner Nimbus
Day 205 Time 0213
PFC Nikol S’Jahar, Catherine “WildCat” Mira

As Major Duncan had instructed, PFC Nikol S’Jahar, along with one of the Marines from the Gunnery Sergeant’s team, escorted Catherine Mira to a room, keeping her away from the others they’d arrested. He was a little nervous because he’d never actually arrested anyone before. Get a grip, he admonished himself. You’ve killed people, for frak’s sake. He breathed in and out, collecting himself.

Once they were in the small room—it looked like some sort of office—with the other Marine guarding outside the hatch, Nikol said to his prisoner, “Sir, I’m PFC Nikol S’Jahar. I’ve been instructed to get a statement about what happened from you, so you need to know, I’m recording everything we say. If you could state your name, please, and then tell me what happened.” He already knew her name, from Lt DesChamps’ briefing, but he needed it for the recording.

Catherine was still pretty shaken by the things that had happened just minutes before, so she needed a moment to process what the young Marine had said.

"He...he had a gun!" she started stammering, "and that noise and...I liked the Captain, you know, and suddenly there was so much blood everywhere and...." Tears were filling her eyes quickly and soon, she was sobbing uncontrollably, hiding her face behind her still bound hands.

"The Captain was even one of the better ones in the fleet..."she sobbed, "and we didn't want anybody to get hurt!...." another sob wracked her body, "and then Ron joined and everything went out of control...gods, he really shot him!"

S’Jahar listened, unexpectedly feeling pity for this pretty girl. Quietly, he said, “Could you tell me your name, please?” Frak! How do you settle down an upset prisoner?

"I'm Catherine, Catherine Mira. Greg Mira is my twin brother, he's FreedomFighter", she answered, slowly getting her sobs more under control. "My handle was WildCat..."

Suddenly, horror showed on her face. "Lords of Kobol...do you know what happened to Hunter? The one who took Ron’s gun away? He...he saved my life, but I'm pretty sure he got shot!" The thought that only Hunt’s action had saved her from being shot by Harper hadn't occurred to her so far, but now that it had, the concern for the boy’s life took over. "Please, can you tell me how he is? I saw he was bleeding...how bad is he hurt? Will I be able to meet him...to thank him?"

Evenly, Nik replied, “His injury didn’t look too serious, Ms Mira.” Remember, she doesn’t know he was undercover. “Dr DeValera will take care of him.” He had no idea if she would be allowed to see Hunt again, so he kept his mouth shut about that part.

"Thank the Gods...and thank you for telling me!" Catherine was slowly calming down, knowing that nobody else had been hurt. "Will I be able to meet my brother and maybe Hunter if I fully cooperate?" she asked after a few moments to collect herself.

“I don’t know, sir,” Nikol said. “I was just instructed to get a statement from you. What happens after this isn’t up to me.”

"Ask your questions, I promise I will answer them as good as I can." Catherine told the young Marine, "and if it would be possible, I would like to clean up a bit later...?"

“If you could just tell me what happened,” the Marine told her, and made sure the recorder was working as she began to speak.

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PostPosted: Sun Jul 08, 2007 4:27 pm 
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D205 0217
Luxury Liner Nimbus
LCpl Josette Benoit and Beulah Akins


LCpl. Josette Benoit shoved the prisoner, none too gently, into the small room.

The young woman stumbled in. “Hey, careful!” she protested, “I almost tripped!”

“Tell that to Captain Barrington,” Josette growled.

At the mention of the dead captain, Beulah sobered. She sat on the only chair in the room. It wasn’t easy, since she still had her hands tied behind her. “I had nothing to do with that,” she finally told the Marine.

“Sure. You were there to pick the daisies, no?” Benoit’s voice dripped sarcasm. “I am Lance Corporal Josette Benoit,” she continued by rote. “I’ve been instructed to get a statement from you as to what happened, so be aware that I’m recording everything you say. Please state your name and what was your involvement in the taking of Nimbus and the murder of Captain Barrington.”

“I tell you I had nothing to do with what happened to Barrington!” Beulah bristled. “I’m a pacifist! I don’t believe in violence! But you wouldn’t understand that,” she finished contemptuously.

Josette tilted her head and stared at the militant prisoner with narrowed gaze. “Pourquoi? Why wouldn’t I understand it? Because I’m a soldier?”

“Yes! Because violence is the only thing you know! Violence and DEATH!” Beulah spat.

The young Marine inspected her fingernails. “Hm… Lemme see, I didn’t threaten to blow up a ship, and I didn’t take any hostages, and for sure I didn’t shoot captain Barrington… And you are the pacifist?”

Beulah ground her teeth. “I’m telling you I DIDN’T SHOOT BARRINGTON!”

“So who did?”

“Harper. Ron Harper. Anarchist.” She slumped on the chair, remembering the horror of those minutes when Harper swung the gun from one to the next.

“But you were with him. All of you. He didn’t act alone.” She stared into Beulah’s eyes. “You see, I read your posts on the BBS… Which one are you? FreedomFighter? WeThePeople? Wildcat?”

“Not Wildcat. Alatheia. I’m Alatheia,” Beulah replied with some pride.

Josette frowned. She couldn’t’ remember any of Alatheia’s posts. I didn’t matter. “And what is your real name?”

“Beulah,” the prisoner replied. “Beulah Akins.”

“So tell me, Beulah, whose bright idea was it to hold the ship ransom?”

At first, Beulah hemmed and hawed, but finally she told LCpl Josette Benoit what had happened. And if she conveniently “forgot” that she had supported Harper almost every step of the way, others did not.

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PostPosted: Sun Jul 08, 2007 4:47 pm 
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Day 205 Time 0237

Dr Ralph DeValera took care of Ron Harper’s injuries in a calm, professional manner, although not with the same consideration he’d given Hunt McCormack. By the time he was done, Harper was conscious and coherent, although obviously in pain.

“You’ll be taking him to the Libra?” DeValera asked the two Marines. He got two nods in reply. “Very well, then,” the doctor packed up his medical supplies. “I’ll take care of Captain Barrington’s body, and check on this one again when I get back there.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Razorski said.

After he left, the Marines both looked silently at Harper.

“So what are you gonna do now?” Harper sneered at them. “Work me over? I’ll get you for using unreasonable force.”

Expressionlessly, Duncan said, “You have already been informed of your rights. I am recording our conversation… would you state your name, and make a statement?”

“Statement?” Harper looked at him, then glared at Razorski. “I’ll make a statement all right. I’m Ron Harper, and that frakker Barrington got what he deserved. He’s been taking advantage of us, all the captains have been treating us passengers like dirt.”

“I see,” Duncan said without inflection. “You say ‘got what he deserved’… could you elaborate?”

“I shot the sonuvafrakkinbitch,” Harper gloated. “Shot him right in the face and he watched me do it. I showed him… sent a message to all the captains…” he fell silent, seeing the glance that the two Marines exchanged. “What? Did you say you’re recording this?”

“Yes,” Duncan nodded.

Harper clamped his jaws together tightly. “I want a lawyer,” he said with malice.

“One will be provided,” Razorski said calmly. “Is there anything else you’d like to say?”

“Yeah… I want to press charges against Hunter, for assault and battery,” Harper shot back. “And that doctor will also have to answer for his mistreatment of my injuries. You’ll pay, all of you!”

“You are still being recorded, Mr Harper,” Razorski said flatly.

Her statement did what she intended. Harper shut his mouth and didn’t speak again.

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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: Sun Jul 08, 2007 6:06 pm 
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Day 205 0238 Hours
Greg FreedomFighter Mira, Lt. Josef Morgan



SPECTRE Lieutenant Josef Morgan entered the room where Greg Mira was being detained, stepping to one side to allow Corporal Algashi to enter beside him. Mira had been seated cross-legged on the floor when the two Scorpians entered, his hands cuffed behind his back. As the two watched, Mira struggled to his feet, his eyes wide. He regarded the two Marine specialists warily, his eyes darting between the two, focusing on the scar across each of their left eyes.

"You're... you're from that ghost ship," he blurted out, finally finding his voice. "Scorpian mercenaries... killers for hire."

"We have a new warleader now," Morgan said. "Major Duncan has given us a new purpose; we will defend the fleet against the soulless ones who seek to destroy us all." Morgan eyed Mira curiously, his hand resting on the hilt of his knife. "This is not about us, though," he said, keeping his voice low and menacing, "this is about you. Tell us your story, and I warn you tell it true, and we shall see if you are fit to live another day." Morgan nodded to Algashi, who produced an audio recorder from her belt pouch.

Holding the recorder where Greg Mira could see it, Algashi leaned close to whisper in his ear, "The truth, little sand mouse, is all you have. Tell it, and perhaps you will not be sacrificed to atone for the death of the captain." Algashi clicked the recorder on and then stepped back. Mira had recoiled as well, but his retreat was blocked by the wall of the small room.

"He's dead..." Mira's voice trailed off as he hung his head, both hands pressed against his forehead, fingers tangled in his hair. He slumped against the wall, sliding slowly downward until he was seated on the floor once more. Algashi remained standing, but Morgan crouched in front of the young man. "He wasn't supposed to die... Harper wasn't supposed to have a gun... We weren't even going to do anything today, just make some plans..." Mira rambled on, obviously shaken and only partially coherent. "It all just got so screwed up," he said plaintively, meeting Morgan's eyes. Facing Morgan seemed to bring Mira back, and as he regained his composure he looked up at Algashi, saying "Is my sister safe?"

"She is unharmed," Algashi replied. Mira's relief was obvious, and he settled further against the bulkhead where he was seated. He glanced at Morgan again, but could not hold against the Scorpian's penetrating stare and so he hung his head once more. "Captain Barrington is really dead, then... and it's my fault," Mira said. "Accomplice to murder - I could get life in prison for that."

"That is not for me to say," Morgan stated, "guilt is in the eyes of Aten, and he metes out adversity in equal measure to your transgressions. Perhaps you are not guilty, little mouse. No man should suffer for the evil of another, if he does not share in it. Right now, though, you need to focus upon your guilt or innocence in this world. Tell us of your deeds this day, so that we may understand you, and preserve your words for the future - where you will be judged by mortal men."

Corporal Algashi stepped a little closer, holding the recorder where it would pick up Greg Mira's voice. "Start with your name, young man," she said evenly, "and then tell us how you came to this place, and why."


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