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PostPosted: Wed Feb 24, 2010 10:42 pm 
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Day 265
1730


Capt. Jenna Correntti watched the DRADIS closely in her near-empty bridge. Shortly after Scorpion Mining arrived, Perseus jumped to their location. Shuttles and Raptors ferried over miners to the destroyer, just in case it had to be abandoned quickly.

In a short time, the crew of 231 had been reduced to 35. The main people who were left were engineers and three people on the bridge. J'Sharh approached the 'operations' table. The light that fell on his face from the monitors showed his time-worn face and his long outcast scar.

"Jenna, I can hold the fort... go over to Perseus, my friend."

"No, if the Cylons show up, I go down with my ship. Besides, we have enough uranium and tylium to make a pretty good fireworks show. I want front-row seats."

"Gallows' humor old friend... you are so much like your father." J'Sharh smiled. "Doros would be proud of you and the way you have handled things since the start of this... exodus."

"I miss the old man... I wish he was here." Jenna sighed. "I'm just glad he left this life before the Cylons decided to return. At least he didn't have to witness that again. What's the news from engineering?"

"Reactors are still in safe mode and every time the chief tries to restart them they scram... he's still in the dark about what is going on. Batteries are still good for two days. More than enough time to get docked to Titan or one of the tugs. We could even deploy temporary solar panels once we get back into a planetary system."

"I'll be happy to be back with the fleet." Jenna paused. "Once we get back to the fleet, we need to offload what we have and..."

Then there was a new 'blip' on the DRADIS. The pair watched closely. What ever it was, was on an approach to their location. after several seconds, an ID appeared. It was Tug N741A, also known as 'The Brute'.

"Looks like we live another day old man." Jenna smiled. "The Gods smile upon us."

"Some would say it's 'Aten's Will'... I just say that circumstances worked in our favor... it was not our turn to die today, old friend." J'Sharh said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I will tend to docking, Captain."

Correntti watched as the XO went to the radio and hailed the tug. You have my fathers' dark humor down all too well... old friend. There are times I have to wonder if you are really a long lost uncle I never knew about.

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


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PostPosted: Thu Feb 25, 2010 11:04 pm 
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Oasis
Day 265
1734

The RAT touched down as close to the front steps of the Oasisan government hall as was possible. A few moments later a pair of marines hopped out, quickly sweeping the scene. They signaled to those still inside the RAT, and a moment later a pair of secret service agents hopped out as well, taking up positions. Finally, out stepped the Colonial Secretary of State, clad in her usual suit, but having exchanged her formal heels for a pair of black boots, incongruous with the rest of the outfit, but better, in her mind, for the uncertainties of the situation on the ground. Finally, a final grouping of marines and secret service exited and took up the rear, and the group moved at a speed only slightly slower than a dead run for the entrance to the building.

The Oasian police officers guarding Founders' Hall watched the display with interest. One had to hand it to the Colonials - they knew how to make an entrance.

One of the guards abandoned his post and hurried to the Solon's office, to let her know the Colonials were back. A few seconds later, Amynta Adrastos stepped out of her office to receive the visitors, the staccato beat of her steps echoing in the empty halls...

"Madame Solon." said Eleni formally, as the Oasian leader appeared just inside the doorway as she and her detail approached the entrance.

"Madame Secretary," the Solon replied just as formally, a slight questioning inflection in her voice.

"The President sends his regards, and requested that I return to ascertain the situation on the ground and coordinate with you." said Eleni, picking up on the unspoken query.

"I... We appreciate his concern," was the quick reply. Even Amynta realized her tone had been too sharp. "Perhaps we can remove to my office and continue our conversation there?" she segued with a tight smile.

"Certainly." said Eleni, and followed the Oasian leader down the hall towards her office.

Once there, the Solon opened the door and signaled Ms. Kyriakes to precede her inside. "Please take a seat, Madame Secretary. I'm afraid I shan't be able to offer you much beyond water or tea at this time. The staff is...gone for the day."

"That would be fine." said Eleni, settling herself in one of the available chairs. "Water would be fine."

The Solon poured a glass of water for Eleni from the exquisite cut crystal carafe on her credenza, then poured one for herself. After a delicate sip, she joined her "guest". "I trust..." she cleared her throat and started again. "I hope your...that you haven't suffered many casualties."

"I would hope so as well." said Eleni after a sip of her own. "For both of our peoples. You may have more information on the situation than I do, at this point...."

"I'm afraid I don't. Reports have been...sketchy at best. McCloud has had more important things to do than give me blow-by-blow accounts." Amynta tried - she truly did! - but her tone was still sharp. She couldn't help it. The woman before her, the whole situation, rubbed her raw. She knew she was in the wrong. She knew they had alerted them and they - she had chosen to ignore their words of caution. And she resented them for it, that somewhere in the fleet, the Colonials were saying "We told them so." And that it was true.

I am judging you more over your inability to put this aside, than I am over your prior errors, Madame Solon, thought Eleni, though none of it reached her face or eyes, let alone her voice. "The most recent information I have is that the fighting is winding down, but nothing specific. While still being mopped up... I think we may consider this fight won."

"'Triumph or defeat matters not / to the dead left to rot...'" Amynta quoted sadly. "But I hope you are right and the fighting is done. Our community is small...every person lost is a friend, a relative, a colleague..."

The Secretary of State nodded sadly, and her silence said more than any words could have.

The Solon stood immobile for the span of a few heartbeats... It took her that long to compose herself after the uncharacteristic display of emotion. But now the inescrutable leader was back, humbled but unbowed. "Where do you suggest we go from here, Madame Secretary?"

Eleni was silent for a moment further, knowing just how much it would have taken for the Solon to look the representative of another government in the eye and ask that question, avoiding answering right away in order to avoid seeming as if she took such things for granted.

"Once we receive reports that the situation is stable, of course, a lot of the work will fall on your civil defense, still, tallying the toll and handling the clean up... I would suggest that a team be dispatched to destroy any remaining, unactivated 0005 models, if there are any. On our end... with your permission, I would like to work with your civil defense to identify our own dead and wounded."

The Solon inclined her head, acknowledging the Secretary's delicate phrasing. A part of her admired the skill with which the Colonial official handled the uncomfortable situation. It didn't sit well with her, however, that the woman would feel it necessary to sugarcoat her words with the smarmy delicacy of diplomatic speech. Then again, she had to admit she had set the tone of the game from the moment they'd met. "Very well," she agreed with an inner sigh. "That is a sound plan. I shall contact Commander McCloud and instruct him to coordinate with Colonel Merconi, or whoever you designate for such purposes."

"Thank you." said Eleni. "As the rest of our delegation will likely not return until tomorrow, if you wish, I can remain here at Founder's Hall in order to be more easily reachable."

"If you wish," Amynta replied. "There's an unoccupied office down the hall. It is rather small, but I trust you won't mind?"

"Not at all." said Eleni, rising and extending her hand to shake the Solon's, briefly.

The Solon rose, too, and shook the other woman's hand. "I'll show you the way," she said with impeccable manners. There may have even been a hint of warmth in her tone.

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PostPosted: Sat Feb 27, 2010 8:48 pm 
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Day 265,
2147
Destroyer Escort Bellerophon


Bellerophon was still in the Titan's clutches, far away from Oasis and its very own cylon rebellion, but the whole atmosphere had been tense all day. Oasis had seemed so innocent when the fleet had arrived... but that innocence had been lost now and to a lot of people it seemed as if that had been the Colonials' fault. And here they were, sitting on the far side of the system and unable to do anything.

In such situation, some of the hushed whispering had turned into a very vocal discussion surprisingly quick. And not just once, the discussion had turned into screaming and when the screaming had turned into violence, several of the Bellerophons crewmembers had become guests of Dr. Sarah Vaillant's Lifestation, where the beautiful young doctor didn't even try to hide her dismay at this sort of behaviour.

After finishing an impromptu double-shift at the Lifestation, Sarah Vaillant had gone to the gym to blow off some steam herself. As a biological cylon, Sarah was substantially stronger than she looked, but the workout hadn't been as intense as it could have been. There had always been someone else in the gym with her and Sarah wasn't planning on outing herself soon, so she had tried to restrain herself to more 'human' levels.

When she entered Richard Cole's quarters, their quarters, wishing for nothing but a shower and to curl up on the couch with Richard and the cat, Sarah was greeted by the sight of her Richard, sitting quietly at his desk with a single sheet of paper lying in front of him. And when she met his eyes, Sarah suddenly got a very bad feeling.

"When were you planning on telling me about this?"

Frak, he had read the letter from Renatta Vernon, the Secretary of Resources. The one letter that she shouldn't have left lying around... the letter welcoming her to an official scientific expedition to Oasis.

"Sarah", Cole continued, "you can't possibly think about going down there now with their very own litte cylon rebellion!"

Sarah knew that Richard was right about this, it was dangerous. But still... she wanted to go down there and the risks be damned.

"Richard... I have never been to a planet before. Of course, I can project, but I've never been on a real planet! I want this, and the cylons down there won't take this chance away from me... not without a fight!"

And the moment she said it, she knew this was exactly what Richard feared... that she would be involved in a fight. This was not what Sarah worried about though... she was more concerned with the reaction of the 0005s when they found her to be a cylon as well... But maybe those older models don't even recognize me? Sighing, she sat down on the couch next to Cole and took his hand.

"Richard... we don't even know if this field trip will really happen with the situation on Oasis right now. And even if it works out and we do this, it will be less dangerous than you think. I will be with the Secretary of Resources, who'll have at least two bodyguards with her at all times. And I guess we'll have some Marines with us as well... it will be alright, I promise!"

Cole was still sceptical. "You'll be careful?"

"I promise I will... I have you to come back to, remember?"

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PostPosted: Sat Feb 27, 2010 11:02 pm 
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With Eaglestar51

Oasis City
Day 265 2205 Hours

Major Duncan paused outside the billeting room he shared with Colonel Merconi. He was tired, dirty, hungry, smelly, and he hurt from shoulders to waist.

He hadn't taken his body armor off, and the left side was dented where the round had impacted. Briefly he toyed with the idea that Xen wouldn’t notice; but if she didn’t notice the damaged armor, she couldn’t help but see his bruised torso. Scott himself hadn’t seen it yet, but he certainly felt it. I should have showered and changed into a clean uniform, he sighed to himself; but the shower, and the clean uniform, were on the other side of this door, along with his fiery-tempered wife. He tucked his rifle under his arm and took off his helmet, running his hand through his short hair. The familiar heat of anticipation started warming in his gut, mixed with the--also familiar--touch of apprehension.

Well, it would be boring to have a wife who didn’t get furious when I get hurt. He squared his shoulders, winced, and opened the door, stepping in.

The room was dark and silent.

"Kyan?" she asked from the bunk where she lay, a folded napkin wet with rosewater across her brow.

The waiting and worrying and impotent fury had taken their toll, and she'd succumbed to migraine. She felt miserable.

Her tone alerted him, and he leaned his rifle against the wall, putting his helmet down. "Kaani'ha?" he said softly, undoing his body armor as he strode over to the bunk, shrugging out of it and setting it down gently. His anticipation vanished, his apprehension now only for her. He crouched next to the bunk gingerly, putting his hand on her arm. "Are you all right?"

She gritted her teeth in agony and aggravation and... and... just plain anger! She hated being sick. Or weak. Or needy. She hated that he'd come home from battle to find her lolling in bed because of a stupid headache like some simpering ninny.

His concern only made it worse.

Her head pounded, her stomach lurched and flashes of light burst behind her eyelids.

"I'm fine," she lied.

He knew she wasn't, but he didn't know what he could do to help. Well, only one way to find out... Keeping his voice quiet, he asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing," she gritted out. "Anything. Do whatever you want." She was rapidly losing her battle with nausea. "For frak's sake, get a bath!" she gasped.

He nodded and went into the bathroom, making sure he closed the door before he turned the light on. He stripped out of his uniform as quickly as he could and paused to regard his reflection in the mirror.

The left side of his chest was red and purplish-black, the bruise large enough that he couldn't cover it with both his hands. He grimaced, pressing gently on his ribs with his fingers. "Nothing broken at least," he muttered to himself, and took a fast shower.

Too late, he realized that all his clean clothes were in the room with Xen. She won't see anything, anyway, he mentally shrugged, wrapping the towel around his waist. He turned off the light and stepped out of the bathroom, going back to the bunk. "Xen? Can I get you anything?" he asked softly.

She'd listened to the sounds from the head - the muffled rustling of his clothes as they fell to the floor, the soft rush of water... and felt hot tears slip down her temples. He deserved better than a weak, selfish harpy. Much better.

At the sound of his voice, she sat up carefully and turned the light on. "Kyan, I'm so... What happened to you?!?"

He blinked in the sudden brightness and said, "Oh, ah..." He ran his palm gently down his bruised chest. "I was at the merchant camp when the cylons attacked," he explained. "It's just bruised." He crouched by the bunk again, face-to-face with her, and put his hand softly on the side of her head. "Do you want me to rub your head for you?"

"Don't. Patronize. Me." she ground out, her previous anger reignited by concern and fed by the fear she'd held in check throughout the cylon attack. "What happened?" she asked again, her voice taut.

No escaping it... With a sigh, he said, "I thought all the clankers were dead, but one had enough juice left to shoot at me. My armor took the round." He shrugged. "And I'm just bruised."

"You took a direct hit from a CYLON?!" The last word was shrill, almost a scream; her head throbbed violently and dark spots danced before her eyes, but her physical discomfort merely fed her white hot fury. "Are you INSANE? How...? Why...? Do you have a death wish, Scott? Is that how you get your kicks? Trying to get KILLED?!?"

"I wasn't trying to get killed, Xen," he replied, trying--only partly successfully--to stifle his irritation. "And I didn't get killed... here I am." By Aten, why does this make her so furious? I lived! "Besides, it was only one of the old cylons, a triple-oh five."

"Just one of the old cylons?" she sputtered. "You mean the killing machines that almost beat the frak out of the Colonies 40 years ago? Those cylons?" She gulped down a wave of dizziness and nausea. "But I forget. You're the invincible Kyan S'Vekar, kyafk’i to the nomads, avenger extraordinaire. What's that they call you? Tsinkèiskà? The living blade? Well I got news for you, Mr. High and Mighty Warrior: you are NOT invincible! You're NOT a steel knife, no matter how strong you may be! You're skin and bone and flesh and... and blood!" Angry tears streamed down her face. "And you bleed. And hurt. And you can die..."

"Xen," he replied slowly, his anger evaporating. Jima’i, how do I answer this? "Xen... we're all flesh and blood. We live in dangerous times, and we have dangerous jobs. I know I'm not invincible..." he touched his bruised ribs gently and winced, "and I take the precautions I can. You are home to me, no matter where I am, and I will always do my best to come home... to come home to you. But I am a warrior. I was born a warrior. I can't deny that." Unthinkingly he drew in a slow breath, and again grimaced. "I love you. Na k’aunaì, Kaani'ha. I will always love you."

"I know," she breathed out softly. Her long, elegant finger traced the outline of his bruises, gentle as dawn's first kiss upon the break of spring. "I know," she repeated, a little louder. "You're a warrior. We both are. That doesn't make it any easier." Her hazel eyes glistened with still more unshed tears. "I was.. so afraid. It gnawed on my soul, the fear. I love you, Kyan. More than you can ever know. And unless I'm fighting there beside you, I will live in fear any time you are in harm's way. I can't help it. I... can't."

"I know you can't," he replied quietly. "And I worry about you, when you're in harm's way." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Is there any room in that bunk for me? I'd really like to lay down beside you."

"It'll be a tight fit," she smiled as she scurried to the far edge of the narrow bed , "but I think we can manage..."

He turned off the light and gingerly eased himself into the bunk, stretching out on his side with relief. "Mmmm," he murmured, relaxing facing Xen, and he ran his hand gently over her belly. "How's our children doing?" Then he rested his hand on the back of her neck. "How is the mother of my children doing?" he asked more seriously.

She turned her head and kissed his forearm where it rested against her still wet cheek. "Much better, now that the father of my children is here." They weren't just words: while her temples still ached, the worst of the migraine was gone. It took some maneuvering, what with the bulk of her burgeoning pregnancy, but she finally settled comfortably, cuddled by her husband's lean, warm body.

He was tired, his stomach was growling, and his ribs throbbed painfully... but the feel of Xen's body against his reignited his arousal. Down, boy! he chided himself. That's probably the last thing she wants right now!

She felt a familiar stirring against her side and, despite the lingering discomfort from the migraine, she grinned. Her hand slipped down to hold him. "Mmm," she purred, "I think someone isn't quite ready for sleep yet..."

He drew in a quick breath, partly from her grasp on him, partly from surprise. He let out the breath slowly and cupped one of her breasts, his thumb teasing the nipple. "You are the most amazing woman in the universe," he whispered. He propped himself up on one elbow, leaning down to kiss her lingeringly.

She returned the kiss gently, without hurry, relishing the tender intimacy of the darkened room. "I love you, Scott Duncan," she murmured against his lips. "I love you so much, sometimes it's hard to remember I was even alive until I met you..."

He kissed her again, then kissed down her throat, his lips soft and caressing, his hand on her skin like a soft, warm breeze. He pushed himself to his knees next to her, the pain of his bruised ribs forgotten, and explored her body with his hands, lips, and tongue.

Perhaps it was the remnants of the migraine, perhaps it was the drugging effect of his long, slow kisses, but a delicious lassitude washed over her, turning her bones to putty. A part of her could not believe the small mewling sounds that broke the night's silence were coming from her, but they were - soft, satisfied sighs, urging him on. She sought him in the darkness, lost in a fog of warm, liquid desire, needing to feel his strong, lean body closer... closer still...

Scott could tell that she was succumbing to the same slow heat of passion that he was. He didn't consciously think, but moved by instinct and practice, knowing what she liked and what worked best with her growing pregnancy. He entered her, gentle as a spring rain, shuddering with pleasure, and moved slowly, reading the messages her body was sending him. It was an affirmation of life after a day of death at his shoulder, a gift of joy and light that washed away the pain.

Her body, her mind, her very soul danced to the rhythm of his slow, steady strokes. Time and space lost all meaning - the ages of Man and the whole of the universe merged in that sweet, sweaty point where her body met his. "Scott!" she keened as ecstasy overtook her.

Every particle of his being was concentrated in a single, small space... but then, like a sun going nova, it exploded, waves spreading outward, brilliant and pulsing. Finally, gradually, the exquisite pleasure disbursed and faded, and awareness coalesced in a form he recognized as himself. "Na k’aunaì," he murmured, kissing her.

Again he lay on his side next to her, his ribs renewing their incessant throbbing ache; but the rest of him felt terrific. He rested his palm on her belly, feeling one of the twins move under it. "Isn't it amazing," he said softly, "that the result of such a wonderful activity is also so wonderful."

"Yes," she agreed, her voice still husky and shivery with afterglow. "Though I could do without them using my liver for kick-boxing practice..."

Her hand brushed against his bruised ribs and she heard his sharp intake. "Let me take a look at that bruise, Scott, put some salve on it..."

"No, don't bother," he murmured sleepily, drawing her--carefully--more closely against him. "Don't want to let you go..."

"I'm not going anywhere, love," she took his hand and brought it to her lips. "Nowhere at all but next to you..."

_________________
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 Feb 28, 2010 10:27 pm 
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Oasis TV
D265
2216


Quote:
“Welcome back to our continuing coverage of today’s events.” Mitch Roberts said. “While all the combat happened on our planet, there was some unnerving moments in the Colonial Fleet once the news reached them about the Cylon revolt. Reporter Brooke Osborne filed this report from somewhere in our system.


Brooke: “It had been a normal day for Chief Photographer Billy Lofton and myself on the Battlestar Taurus. We were in the process of shooting what is called ‘stock’ footage to use in later stories. We were filming in the port hanger bay when the ship sprang to action.”

Quote:
P.A. System: Action Stations, Action Stations! Set Condition One throughout the ship. This is not a drill. Repeat, Action Stations, Action Stations! Set Condition One throughout the ship. This is not a drill!”

Brooke: “Not a…holy <BEEP>!”

Billy: “Oh Gods…I wonder what the <BEEP> is going on?”


Brooke:” As you see, when the crew was called to ‘Action Stations’, everything that had been going on stopped and the focus of nearly everyone on the deck was to get fighter pilots to their craft and launched. After a couple of moments, we did get the attention of someone on the other side of the deck.”

Quote:
Unknown crewman in Orange jumper: “Marines, get those mother<BEEP>ing civilians off my mother<BEEP>ing deck now before someone runs them <BEEP>ing over with a ship!”

Marine: (rushing towards the reporter and camera) “Sorry you two, the Chief wants you off the deck. This is combat situation. You’ll need to come with me.”

Brooke: “But we’re journalists with full access…”

Marine: “Sorry ma’am, I have my orders and this is combat situation. You’re off the deck...you can come with me and wait off to the side or I'll have to take you to the brig.”


Brooke: “We of course complied with Private Daniel Lee's orders and found ourselves waiting in the pilots briefing room. For the next 90 minutes, we waited with no information about what was going on. We asked our Marine escort if we were in combat against the Cylons. Without changing his stoic look, he replied: “If the Cylons were outside, you’d know it and feel it…trust me on this one.”

“Billy and I spent our time waiting and wondering. Eventually, we heard the ‘all clear’ and we were allowed back onto the deck for a few minutes. (The footage of pilots getting out of their craft and the deck hands moving craft around is shown). The pilots seemed tired, but glad they did not have to go into combat. Three hours after after going to 'action stations', we were taken to a conference room. After a few more minutes of waiting, acting Executive Officer Major Amanda Bays came to answer our questions.”

Quote:
Brooke: “Can you tell us what is going on, Major?"

Maj. Bays: “Around 1345 Oasis City time, the Cylons on your world revolted. They attacked the city, Merchants Camp and Colonial Landing Zone. Oasisian and Colonial Forces repulsed the attack.”

Brooke: “Can you tell us about any casualties?”

Maj. Bays: “Unknown, but Colonial medical teams and ships are assisting local medical teams at this time.”

Brooke: “Is there any information about how and why the Cylons revolted?”

Maj. Bays: “Unknown at this time…"


Brooke: “We now know it started in the chambers of Founder’s Hall during a meeting with the Colonial delegation…the meeting that ended with the death of Provost Tim McCready. Eventually, we went on to our next stop…the Nimbus. The people of the fleet, when they found out who we were, passed along their condolences…and many of them expressed that they wished what happened today had never happened to us.

Quote:
Ned Williams – Nimbus passenger: “I’ve lived through both wars…I wouldn’t wish the Cylons on anyone. I’m sorry this had to happen to your loved ones…”


Brooke: “From the Starliner Nimbus, somewhere in our system, this is Brooke Osborne reporting.”

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


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PostPosted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 1:21 am 
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Oasis - Farm
0230
Day 266


Joe had slept uneasily in the dark hay loft in the dairy cattle barn of Chad and Kristi Bitticks' farm. His three 'traveling' companions had roomed there for three days. With the news of the Cylon revolt, the group was uneasy...they knew what the Cylons could do.

They also knew what would happen if they were found by local officials or Colonial Military: They would be returned to the fleet. A court martial and hard time on Colonial Fueler would befall them.

"Good morning sir." Siara said to Joe as she joined him on the edge of the loft. "You can't sleep either?"

"Nope...and I won't until the fleet is gone from here." The older man looked back where the other two were sleeping...the moonlight that came through the skylights faintly illuminated the barn, "I see Wilson and Montag are out to the universe. Wish I could sleep that easy."

"They're Marines...I suspect they've slept in far worse places, Doc." The young woman paused for a moment, "Suppose it's way too late to go back."

"Yeah...they've gone through my quarters by now and found my note. With the Cylon revolt, they will be checking the farms for Toasters. Mr. Bittick told me they would keep us here in barn until the fleet is gone or the patrols are less aggressive."

"We just have to hide in the loose hay." Siara paused and smiled, "Guess it is too late to tell you I have allergies to the stuff?"

"I figured that out quick on our first night here, Ensign. Mrs. Bittick is supposed to go into town and get you something. At least we get to spend part of the evening in the small house with them...also get access to the shower. I'll just be glad when this is all over."

"Me too, sir...me too."

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PostPosted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 3:03 pm 
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Previously, on Battlestar Libra...
Quote:
"What we'll have then is data that looks like this..." Again Trap swiveled to the R&D computer, minimizing the data transfer progress screen, and bringing up a database.

Tom bent over and took a look at the screen, "Very nice...and very neatly organized."

The database was columns and columns of seemingly random numbers. "Frequency," Trap pointed at the first column, "bandwidth, transmission strength, duration, bps... and so on." He moved the cursor across the screen, the columns flashing from right to left as he swiftly scrolled through them. "This is the data on transmissions I've already intercepted and run through the algorithm. What I'm working on right now is a pattern recognition program. It sorts the data repeatedly and systematically--well, essentially it's another algorithm, and it will identify and correlate similarities in the data."

He contemplated the database a moment, then closed it. "I have no idea how long it will take the pattern recognition program to crunch the numbers." He sighed. "I haven't finished writing all the code for it yet." He rubbed his nose thoughtfully, then brightened. "But we have ten days, while the ident/locate algorithm runs. That'll be plenty of time for me to finish writing the pattern recognition program!"

"You are a genius, Trap." Tom said with a smile. "What ever your favorite bottle is, let me know and I'll find it."

Trap waved a long, bony hand vaguely. "Oh, I just like the challenge of the chase!"


Battlestar Libra
Day 266 0907 Hours

(Goldwolf and JDCTexas)

Trap Moreland barely glanced away from the computer monitor when Corporal Tom Nakashima came into R&D. “Look at this, Tom,” he said without preamble, nodding to the screen. “I pulled some of your analyzed signals data out of the ident/locate algorithm.” He looked at Nakashima, then. “Your data isn’t done being crunched, but the first stuff looks really promising.”

"Good to hear you have found some promising nuggets in the mountain of data." Tom smiled. "What do you have?"

“Look here, I ran a correlation between your data and what I already had,” Trap’s fingers danced over the keyboard, the screen flashing and changing. “The intraclass correlation is very strong—look.” He paused, data points showing on the screen. “Er… basically, what it means is that your cylon signals are essentially the same, structurally, as the ones I’ve intercepted. What they actually mean, what the cylons are saying to each other, I have no clue about. But that’s a step we’re getting closer to!”

"Now, if we could crack the data at some point." Nakashima smiled as he looked at the data points, "Looks like you are overcoming some of the 'static' from the last battlefield as well...much cleaner than what I can get it. Maybe I need to put in for a transfer."

Trap grinned. "Sure," he said, nodding enthusiastically. "We can always use the help, here. I've only just finished writing the code for that pattern recognition program, I'm debugging it now." He paused and added apologetically, "There's, ah, been another project I've been working on." His shrug and rueful expression indicated it was a project he couldn't talk about. "And I've also been trying to get a sample of signals from the activated 0005s on the planet. It would be interesting to see what their signals look like."

"It would be interesting to see how the 0005 communicate." Tom paused for a moment, "Out of curiosity, does any of your algorithms take into account signal strength and direction? That's been a goal of mine for a while...and I hoped to have a good sample from the last battle. With all the static in the area, my equipment is unable to answer that question."

Trap pondered it for several long moments. "What we'd need," he finally said slowly, "is an initial marker, a starting point." He paused again, still thinking. "I bet, if I go through our transmissions, that I can find cylon signals in the background. If I can find the same cylon signal as one of those from our data here--" he made a vague gesture, "--then we'd have our starting point."

"A starting point and then we see if we can make it happen. Lt. Masterson will want to know when we can expect something. How much time are you thinking on this?"

"Won't be able to do it until after the ident/locate algorithm is done with your signals," Trap said with a grimace. "And then I'll have to run it through the pattern recognition program, that will make it easy to find a match."

"My boss will want it faster, but I'll tell him this is something we can't have in a day." Tom took a breath and smiled, "Sometimes we have to remind him Caprica City wasn't build in a day."

Trap shrugged. "I'll start going through the recordings of our combat transmissions now, I can at least find some of the strongest cylon signals while we're waiting."

"I'll see what I can find on Taurus as well." Tom said. "Maybe previous Ranger Scout data can provide us as clue as well?"

Trap brightened. "Definitely," he agreed. "Especially if we can find the same cylon signal in more than one interception; that would give us a prefect locator in time as well as location."

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Destroyer Perseus – Commander’s Quarters
Day 266
1045


Karl Vansen sat at his desk, re-reading Capt. Eric Palmisano’s report on AWOL personnel and a letter that was left by one of them. He grew angrier with every re-reading of both documents. A dozen of his people had turned up AWOL over the last three days.

His first reaction was to suspend all leave, but he knew this would crater morale. Over 300 crewmen had gone to the planet and returned without incident. To take it out on everyone would be too much.

The Commander had seen to it personally that information was passed to the Admiral and to MCIT for additional action. Soon, the Marine detachment and planetary officials would be on the lookout for the delinquent crew members. Pictures and biographical information for each person was sent.

But that wasn’t the thing that bugged the Commander. It was the fact that the Chief Medical Officer, Captain Joe Walters, had betrayed him and took three other crew members with him. Walters stated he could no longer continue to serve in a war that was ‘futile’. 'I’ll take my chances on the planet' was the last line of the letter.

Vansen sat clipboard down and leaned back in his chair. I wish I could run away like you, Joe…but I have people depending on me. You had people in the medical ward depending on you, too. Some of those depending on you are still fighting for their lives. The civilians of this fleet depend on the military for survival…if I or any of the other ship commanders walked away, who the frak would look out for them?! This war has been hard on everyone but to walk away now is the height of being a self-centered…

Karl stood up and angrily picked up the metal clipboard holding the report and sent it flying across the room with all the strength he could muster. When it hit the hatch, it made a loud noise, echoing through the room. The clipboard fell to the ground, dented from the impact with the door.

For the next few minutes, Vansen calmed himself before writing an e-note to the ship department heads about the situation. He also attached a file that discussed the proper way to immigrate to Oasis and detach from military service…with orders for both items to be posted throughout the ship for all to read.

Before sending the e-note, he added a few more passages.

Quote:
One last reminder to everyone: Going AWOL is never an option, whether in war or peace. Also keep in mind we are at war with the Cylons and wartime penalties are far harsher than in peace. If you are considering going AWOL, I would encourage you to review Sections 97.2 to 97.9 of the Military Code of Laws and Penalties. It lists the different options to that can be considered by not only a military tribunal, but by the Admiral himself.

You can access the Law Codes electronically or in the library.

If you wish to stay permanently on the planet, go through proper channels. I have issued a dozen arrest warrants today. I have no problem issuing another for someone who does not follow procedures.

//Signed//
Commander Karl Vansen
Commanding Officer,
Destroyer Perseus


After sending the e-note, Karl sat for a few more moments…considering his next move. He was down a doctor. He also knew that no one else on staff had the experience to lead the medical ward. Perseus had put to space with an almost ‘green’ medical team. Dr. Chalke, the ships former number two physician, had died during a battle early in the Exodus. The Commander had to do something to fill the void of leadership. For that, he would have to go off-ship.

Vansen picked up the handset, “Becca, this is the Commander. Get me a secure connection to Dr. DeValera on Libra, please.”

”Aye, Sir.”

I hope Ralph can find a way to help out, Karl thought as he waited to be connected with the Fleet Chief Medical Officer. Hopefully he knows someone who can step up and take the medical lead here...

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PostPosted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 10:42 pm 
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Destroyer Perseus
Oasis, Camp Blue Sky
Day 266 1100 Hours

Even on the planet, it had already been a typical day for Dr. Ralph DeValera: busy. His first task of the day, when most were still asleep, had been to perform surgery on a CivDef police officer injured in a fight against the triple-oh fives. She had stabilized enough by 0430 that the surgery to repair her injuries had been almost routine. DeValera chalked that up to the expertise of the local physicians, and had accompanied one of them on rounds after the surgery, checking on others who had also been injured.

From there he'd gone to the CivDef training billets, where the colonial Marines assigned to the city were billeted. He examined those whose injuries weren't severe enough to require hospitalization, finding that all were fit for duty, although two he gave restricted duty assignments. Ski was there to enforce the restrictions, and he left them in the care of her strong and capable hands.

His last destination was Camp Blue Sky. He did impromptu 'house' calls to a variety of people--some civilians, as well as a few of the Spectres assigned there. While on PG76, one of the crew members tracked him down, telling him he had a wireless call.

After fifteen minutes, Commander Vansen finally was connected with Dr. DeValera on Oasis. Immediately Karl found himself a little more relaxed. "Ralph, you're a hard person to find. Did I catch you at a bad time and do you have a few minutes to spare?"

["Actually, your timing is pretty good, Karl,"] DeValera replied. He waved a hand of thanks at the crew member, and settled back in the chair. He had an idea that Vansen's 'few minutes' might end up being a few more than Vansen anticipated. Ralph could hear the stress in the man's normally-calm voice. ["I've got plenty of time, go ahead."]

"Well, let me tell you about my day. First, I issued twelve arrest warrants for AWOL crewmen...one of which is Dr. Walters. Next I tried to take out the hatch of my quarters with a clipboard." Karl sighed, "The design engineers, Gods rest their souls, would have been happy with the result: The hatch held up to the airborne clipboard assault."

["It sounds like you've had a hell of a day already,"] Ralph said with feeling. ["How did the clipboard hold up?"]

"There will be a crew-wide memorial service for Lt. Clipboard at 1500...he'll be sent off into the void with a 21-gun salute from the KEWs." Karl allowed himself to laugh a little. "On a serious note, with Joe gone I'm down a good doctor and administrator. None of them are ready to take the lead...and I have a fairly full medical ward."

Swiftly, DeValera mentally reviewed the list of remaining physicians on Perseus. ["You do have a pretty green crew of doctors left, don't you, Karl,"] he said thoughtfully. ["I guess we need to talk about reassigning an experienced doc to lead your medical staff. Do you have anyone specific in mind, or any special skills you want over there?"] DeValera was already thinking of possibiities. He needs someone who's a fine touch with people, to settle the remaining medical people... and to settle the command staff, too.

"Well, I had thought of one person, but we'd never get Dr. Sonji off of Taurus. He has previous CMO experience, but he's the fleet pathologist...and those facilities are on the Bull. I need someone who can come in and lead immediately...serve as a mentor."

Karl paused for a moment, "And put up with me. Damn, I need a vacation, Ralph."

["Sign yourself up for shore leave, Karl,"] DeValera said firmly. ["And I'll make that an order if I have to. Now... about a doc for your ship..."] He paused, and the perfect candidate popped into his head. ["I'd hate to lose her, but how about Brenda Mulkey? She's got plenty of experience, she'd be a perfect leader for your medical staff, and she already knows how to put up with you."]

"Already scheduled to go planetside in a few days...and I'm looking forward to it. It'll be nice to breathe non-processed, fresh air and see some trees." Vansen thought about the recommendation, "Brenda always handled herself well, as I recall. FitReps were always good as well. I think you sent her after me once for being two days late for a yearly physical...caught me right as I was leaving CIC."

["That sounds like Brenda,"] Ralph chuckled. ["She's deserving of a CMO slot--I'll talk to her about it. We can do the transfer pretty quickly. Anything else on your mind, Karl?"]

"Any good restaurants to visit when I finally get down there or must-visit places?"

["I haven't had a chance to sight-see, or eat anywhere besides the hospital cafeteria and our Marine's mess tent,"] DeValera laughed, ["but I can tell you the coffee is good no matter where you go!"]

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PostPosted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 10:51 pm 
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Oasis
Day 266
1130


Liza stepped out into the Oasian noon, and looked up at the sky, where the sun had erased the previous day's cloud cover. The signs of yesterday's carnage were still apparent, nearby an Oasian team worked to shore up a damaged building.

Patrick Greene took a look around area. He carefully assessed the damage... of not only the buildings but of the people. They were warned... now they have learned the hard way. He then noticed the Solon and her entourage at the top of the steps of Founder's Hall.

Then, there was the press, shouting questions from a distance. Patrick kept his face devoid of emotion. Well, we'll soon find out how this goes. Lets just hope the Presidents 'extend a hand to help' approach works.

Another form stepped out from the crowd near the Solon, ignoring the shouts of the reporters with practiced ease as she made her way down the steps to meet them.

"Madame Vice President, Mister Greene, Mister Baccus, Attorney General Vernon...Welcome back to Oasis." said Eleni, falling in with the rest of the group in walking back towards Founder's Hall.

"It's good to see you, Eleni," the Attorney General broke protocol to greet the Secretary of State, smiling broadly.

Eleni favored Garris with a quick grin of her own, as the group continued to make its way up to the steps of Founder's Hall.

"Welcome," the Solon stated, a subdued yet still regal figure.

"Gods, after all we've been through, you'd think we would dispense with the formalities..." Vicky Chen ground under her breath, to Dr. Mgube's amusement.

Standing off to one side of the Solon, still wearing the same embroidered dress she had been wearing when they had last seen her, stood Laike Ileski. The representative of the Artisans gave a nod to each of her returning fellow Heptumvirate members, then a slight glance at the Colonial party...no longer outright hostility, but certainly far from trust.

"Madame Solon." said Liza.

"Madame Vice President," Amynta acknowledged the younger woman.

A photojournalist, more brazen than most, shoved a camera in the Solon's face. He was rewarded with a glacial stare.

He stepped back.

Rep. Greene tried not to smile, Nosy people and their toys should stay away. Well played, Solon... you would have done well in the old government.

"Perhaps we should continue inside?" the Solon asked. While phrased as such, clearly it was not a suggestion.

"Of course," Dr. Mgube agreed with alacrity, clearly uncomfortable with the rush of the press.

"Lead the way, Henry." Grover Baccus moved ahead with surprising speed for a man of his size. "The sooner we start, the sooner we get outta here..."

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Astral Dawn – Press Conference
Day 266
1200


President Meyers approached the podium and opened a folder containing his statement. The room was filled with about a dozen reporters from both the fleet and Oasis. Andy looked at the gathering and the cameras.

“Before I read a short prepared statement, I wish to send my personal condolences to the families of all those who were injured and killed on Oasis. This is something that I wished never happened to the good people of your world. One life lost was one too many.”

Andy then waited a moment and then read his statement.

Quote:
“Yesterday was a dark day for the people of Oasis and a dark reminder to everyone in the fleet. We were reminded that Cylons, be it models that were built sixty years ago or flesh and bone versions that destroyed the Colonies, are deadly foes that cause fear and destruction… and are never to be trusted. Twenty-four hours ago, we stood side-by-side with the people of Oasis and defended humanity.

As of three hours ago, Admiral Rodrigues, Solon Adrastos, Commander McCloud of Oasis Civil Defense and myself considered the situation secure enough to allow the restart of travel to the planet. An hour ago, the Merchants Camp, a mile outside of the Colonial Landing Zone, was reopened for business. At this time, we are assisting Oasis Civil Defense in the search for any other possible Cylons that may have gotten away.

There have been no 0005 model Cylon sightings since the end of combat yesterday. Air assets of the Colonial Navy working in conjunction with the Oasis Civil Defense had kept around-the-clock- patrols looking for our robotic enemy. Ground forces from both sides have actively looked for the Cylons and continue to do so at this time.

At this time, Fleet medical teams are assisting the medical community on the planet. There is a need for blood donations. If you are able to give, please contact your ships’ medical department or designated command staff member.

In an emergency meeting with the Quorum of Twelve, we pledged to assist the Government of Oasis in any way possible. Solon Adrastos and her government have accepted in several areas of need. We will stand by our brothers and sisters in their time of need.

I now open up the floor to questions. Since there are two press corps here, please state your name when I point to you.”


A reporter raised his hand quickly, “Arron Myles of Fleet Channel One. Mr. President, how confident are you that this situation is contained?”

“Arron, I would not have allowed for travel to resume if I felt the Cylon threat had not been contained. We are approaching the twenty-four hour mark since the end of combat and as we know in the fleet, that is generally a good sign. It is felt this was a limited number Cylons that caused this havoc. We are being vigilant, but we feel comfortable enough to resume normal travel and trade activities. You in the back, next.”

“Brooke Osborne, Oasis Broadcast Company. President Meyers, there are some on my world that think this was intentional and a prelude to invasion. What would you like to say to these groups?”

“Not true, not true at all, Ms. Osborne.” Andy said resolutely. “I wouldn’t wish the Cylons on my worst enemy. We have no desire to use force on your world nor do we want to take it over. The citizens of Oasis have nothing to fear from the people or military of this fleet. Next.”

“Russ Ryan of My Side, Your Side. President Meyers, there have been reports of people not returning back to the fleet at the end of their visitation time on Oasis. We also know of about fifty members of the Colonial military that are AWOL. What do you say to those who are not going through the required immigration route?”

Meyes locked eyes with Mr. Ryan, “Any member of the military found absent without leave will have to deal with the possible penalties under military law. Although we are on a peaceful world, this is still considered a time of war for this fleet and I would remind them that fact. As for Colonial citizens, they will be returned to the fleet and detained until the fleet leaves this system. They may also face addition legal ramifications. If anyone in the fleet or anyone on Oasis wishes to immigrate, they must follow the guidelines set forth in our agreement with the Oasis government. Now, one more question… you, ma’am.”

“I’m Erica Stevens with the Oasis News and Times. Do you suspect any connection between our Cylons and the Cylons from the Colonies in yesterdays’ events?”

“At this time, all indications point to no. There was no other Cylon activity detected off the planet. The fact that there are no Cylon baseships here is a good sign that they know nothing of your world. I pray it stays that way. Thank you for your time.”

President Meyers quickly left the podium and left out a side door. Laura Rice, his secretary awaited him. “Andy, all arrangements have been made. A military raptor is waiting for you… and the hall between here and the shuttle bay has been cleared.”

“Very good… inform the Vice President of my impending travel plans and let the Admiral know I will be airborne shortly.” Andy said. “This is something I need to do and I don’t want the press anywhere near. No more circuses today.”

“Understood, Mr. President.”

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PostPosted: Fri Mar 12, 2010 9:38 pm 
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AgriResearch Station Harvest Moon
Mid-day, Day 266


Dr. Andy Peterson entered the section of the Harvest Moon's astrometrics lab where the Outpost 29 solar telescope was housed. Emma Jardine, the visiting professor from Oasis' observatory, was there with her assistant conducting studies of Oasis' sun.

"Oh, Andrew!" the middle-aged astronomer exclaimed when she spied him. Andy shuddered inwardly at her motherly tone, but smiled anyway. "I'm so glad we've had this opportunity. There is just so much more detail available, without interference from the atmosphere."

"Hi, Andy," a younger, more feminine voice intruded, and Andy blinked at Jardine's assistant as though noting her presence for the first time.

"Uh, hiya," he responded, then focused again on Jardine. "What are we looking at today?" Andy continued. He glanced again at the professor's assistant, suddenly feeling as if his collar was too tight when he found the slight, black-haired woman still gazing intently at him. She smiled when he met her eyes, but he quickly looked away, returning his attention to Jardine.

"...wave propagation to measure the depth and thickness of the tachocline," the Oasian astronomer continued, oblivious to Peterson's momentary distraction. He recalled that Jardine had been studying the internal structure of the local sun, specifically the boundary between the radiation and convection zones. He peered closer at the monitor Jardine was studying, and he immediately immersed himself in discussion with the visiting professor.

At that moment the lab doors hissed open, and a young woman rushed in, threading her way between the moving panels before the opening reached its full width.

"Cylons!" she exclaimed. "They've butchered the planetary council!"

Mandy Kent stood staring at Andy for a moment, her eyes wide and her mouth held in a frozen expression of shock. The chocolate-skinned girl - as Andy thought of her - had transferred from one of the science vessels and worked as a technician in the Harvest Moon observatory. He found her a capable, if over-eager, assistant with a tendency to become distracted when they worked together.

Now, the additional presence of Jardine and her assistant registered with Kent. She scowled at the other young woman, her eyes shooting daggers before turning to the Oasian professor. Jardine's questioning gaze jolted her, and she continued with the news she had brought to the lab.

"I just came from the cafeteria on Sub-Level A, and everyone's talking about it." She went on, shifting her gaze from Jardine to Peterson and back. "A couple of Cylons got into the Heptovirus meeting," she said, stumbling over the name of the Oasian coucil, "and killed the Provost and Representative Green and some others. Now they're spreading out through the city, recruiting all the worker Cylons. Our Marines are forming up at the landing site. There's gonna be a big battle..."

"Just a sec, have you confirmed any of this?" Andy interjected. This might make it tough on David's bunch, he thought, but Greene's no big loss...

Jardine, her face ashen, stared at their sudden intruder, then faced Andy. "I need to call down there right away. Can you get me to a wireless?"

Jardine and Peterson quickly discussed access to a wireless and then made to leave the room. As they did, Nikki DiPrima - Jardine's assistant - scoffed at Kent. "Sounds like a tall tale to me," she stated. And yet, she thought, those Cylon drudges always did creep me out.

Nikki's eyes trailed after Peterson as he left the lab, garnering her another evil stare from Kent. Then she asked the technician, "What about the armed Cylons they found at the airport last week?", and the two young women were quickly lost in discussion of events they could only, truly, guess at.


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PostPosted: Fri Mar 12, 2010 10:33 pm 
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Cylon Baseship – In orbit around a gas giant
Day 266
1210


The Four model known as Marcus Grant made his way down a corridor that lead to the armory room. Here was where the heavy guns and explosives was stored for use in boarding or ground actions. In a corner, Marcus could see another Four model, “You wanted to see me, brother?”

“Yes… I need your thoughts.” The Four paused. “It is about… the debate… discussion… whatever you wish to call it.”

“Caprica Six and Boomer Eight's belief that we should stop this war is what you speak of, yes? I have given it some thought and I know what you want.”

“Where do you stand on this, brother?”

Marcus paused, “I am… undecided, like many of our brothers.”

“The Six and Eight make good points about what little damage 70,000 humans could do at this point.” The Four said. “Then again, they still have military ability, although it is greatly limited compare to what it was. Yet both fleets have been rather destructive with their limited… units”

“Agreed, brother. It is a difficult time and a difficult decision that must be made. Either way, there will be disagreement on this subject and I feel that the disagreement could be… dangerous.”

“How so, brother?” the Four asked.

“Lines are divided amongst themselves. The only line in solidarity on this subject is the Ones and the unit that is currently our… leading voice… stands with them.”

“Oh yes, Cepha.” The Four paused for a moment. A Centurion had entered the room on its regular patrol of the ship. It paused, looked at the Fours and then left the room. “There is one thing to remember about him.”

“And that is?”

“He does not speak for all of us, Marcus. Remember, you have your own ability to think and reason for yourself. You may be a machine, but you are a being that can think and reason for itself. Remember that.”

As the other Four started to leave the room, Marcus asked one last question, “Brother, you never really stated where you stand on this… question?”

“Much like you and many other brothers and sisters… I am undecided. Remember; think logically for yourself on this important matter. There will be a time when we must either keep on our current path or devote ourselves to go down another path. It is time for me to go, brother… we will speak again soon.”

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Fleet Wireless - My Side, Your Side
Day 266
1210


Quote:
Rick: Welcome back to continuing coverage of yesterdays’ events on Oasis. Brad, there was some heroic actions by our armed forces yesterday that kept the Cylons from just running over the Oasis population.

Brad: Our Marines really stepped into the breach at short notice once again! Along with the local civilian defense force, they shut down the Cylons before things could get really out of hand.

Rick: Of course, this would never have happened if the planetary government would have just listened to us. We warned them…

Brad: Lets not get into the blame game here, Rick.

Rick: Why not?! If they had listened to us, there would not have been any of this. It took the death of several civilians and their number two politician for them to see the light. Hades, he nearly got several of our politicians killed...not that Greene would have been a big loss in the minds of some folks.

Brad: Bad, bad form on the Greene comment! He could have been killed by those machine along with everyone else! I’m not going to debate this right now…

Rick: Nothing to debate, Brad! No disrespect to the departed Provost McCready, but when he told it to kill him and Greene…it attempted to follow orders. Not the wisest of things to do after we warned them. Unfortunately for the Provost, he paid for his mistake…a mistake that nearly cost the lives of everyone in the room.

Brad: There were Marines and local Civil Defense members that were in chambers at Founder’s Hall saved everyone else, thank the Gods! We all know about Sgt. Razorski from Libra, but there is another Marine that stood front and center that the planetary government is apparently going to honor for his bravery right along with the Gunny…a Marine by the name of Cpl. Cody. From our understanding, he at one point put himself directly between Rep. Greene and the Cylon that killed the Provost.

Rick: And from what I read, Cpl. Tom Cody and a group a Marines saved a group of locals that were held up in a Gaean Temple that the Toasters were assaulting. He single-handedly destroyed three cylons before they could kill anyone inside. It's our understanding there were defenseless teachers, children and toddlers there at the time. The Temple has seen better days, but everyone inside was saved.

Brad: Thanks to our small but dedicated staff, we have some more information on Tom Cody.

Rick: Okay…what do we know about him? Is he as straight-laced as the Gunny? Please note...not that there is anything wrong with the Gunny...we love the Gunny here on My Side, Your Side.

Brad: Some would just love to see her kick your butt...lets move on to Cody now. He was a Marine sniper that mustered out of the Corp about a year before the war and very recently rejoined the military after a stint as a security guard on Catalina. Another thing we know is that Cody was born on Virgon…that is all we could get out of our sources.

Rick: Oh yeah, I remember that guy…had me escorted out of a bar there!

Brad: Is there a bar that still allows you to come in on the Catalina?

Rick: No comment. I heard he also has one heck of a left punch.

Brad: Allegedly he was a bare-knuckle fighter per some of our sources. A damn good one.

Rick: Allegedly?! I saw him in action during a bar fight once on the Cat

Brad: And sadly, his fists were not aimed at you. Some would have paid Cpl. Cody handsomely to put your butt out cold on the deck…





Astral Dawn
Same time as broadcast


Chef Jackie Talman was working on the final assembly of a chicken casserole while listening to the broadcast. I can’t believe these two! People are dead and they are still showing almost no…ugh! Why do we listen to these two fraktards?!

Quote:
Rick: And from what I read, Cpl. Tom Cody and a group a Marines saved a group of locals that were held up in a Gaean Temple that the Toasters were assaulting. He single-handedly destroyed three cylons before they could kill anyone inside. It's our understanding there were defenseless teachers, children and toddlers there at the time. The Temple has seen better days, but everyone inside was saved.


Jackie stopped for a moment and stared at the radio, Tom…no, my ears are playing with me…

Quote:
Brad: We have some more information on Tom Cody.

Rick: Okay…what do we know about him?


It was at this point Jackie stood straight and nervously turned the volume up a little. No…it can’t be…no way!

Quote:
Brad: ...he was a Marine sniper that mustered out of the Corp about a year before the war and very recently rejoined the military after a stint as a security guard on Catalina. Another thing we know is that Cody was born on Virgon…that is all we could get out of our sources.


Executive Chef Haywood Issacs walked up to Jackie, “Hey, you okay kid?”

She turned to face Issacs…her face was pale and she was hyperventilating. She could barely speak because of the shock, “Tom…oh my Gods! Tom!”

Haywood caught Jackie as she passed out and fell. “Get a doctor in here…now!”

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PostPosted: Wed Mar 17, 2010 6:01 am 
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Oasis -Gaean Temple
Day 266 1600


The last twenty-four hours were a time that Dr. Armas Lyisti would have liked to wake up from and find it was all a bad dream. The Cylons revolting, a young mother dying in the lobby of his practice from heart failure brought on by her young son being shot... and now this.

The Oasisian Temple to Gaea, one of the original buildings erected on the planet, was now nothing but ash and burned remains. Armas was thankful that the teachers and children had been saved by the Sexant Guard and Colonial Marines... but the loss of the Temple was heartbreaking.

"Dear Gaea, give us strength." Lyisti said quietly.

Shepherd Jason Wodehouse heard him, though. "She will," he reassured the distraught Oasian gently. "She saw us through the destruction of the Colonies, and she will see us through this, too. Let us sing her praises, then, and pray for her gentle guidance and protection..."

He took a step forward and raised his hands to the sky. "Gentle Gaea," he intoned in his deep baritone, "Goddess of Light, goddess of Life..."

The charred remains of the temple resounded with the sounds of the ancient hymn.

After the small group finished singing their praises, they started to sift through the rubble. Mira Lyisti-Cora was working with Jayme Paulis near the alter area when something caught her eyes.

"I don't believe it... wow!" Mira said after opening a storage drawer. "Daddy, Shepherd... come take a look at this!"

Shepeherd Wodehouse strode to the young doctor's side. The altar, though charred, still stood on the dais, a symbol of defiant hope amidst the ruins. Mira had most likely found the reliquary drawer, where a figure of the goddess was traditionally placed upon consecration of the temple. It would be a sign of Gaea's mercy if, of all the appurtenances of worship, the consecration icon had survived destruction. It was not to be, though: consecration icons were made of wax, as they were meant to slowly melt and become one with the altar.

Miraculously, the reliquary drawer held a perfectly preserved consecration icon: despite years of use and, even more surprising, despite the intense heat of the fire that had destroyed the temple and burnt the altar table, the figurine had not melted. It had set a little, so its back was flat against the wood, but the front still bore the detailed likeness of the goddess - the elaborate headdress atop her intricately plaited hair, the elegant folds of the tunic that covered her generous curves, the welcoming arms, gilded with gold and silver paints... It was... unbelievable. Impossible.

"A miracle," Shepherd Wodehouse declared, stunned. "It's... a miracle."

"Gaea is with us in this time of troubles." Armas said reverently. "Amid the ash and destruction, she is with us."

Many in the gathered group gave thanks for the icon's survival. Some talked of cleaning the site quickly and beginning to rebuild. Armas looked over the remains of the temple, It can be rebuilt... if it is your will for us to stay, Gaea. Since the appearance of the 'off-worlders', Lysti wondered if it was Gaea's will for them to stay. It is Her will if we stay or not... time will tell.

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