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 Post Posted: Sun May 30, 2010 10:33 pm 
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~February 1, Universal Century 0088~
~10:08 Coordinated Universal Time~


- Gryps Space -

- The Kirov -
- Bridge -

Andrewson Trent stared at the window in front of him - not through it, at it - wrapped up in his coat as if it were a harsh winter on Earth. The circles under his eyes were darker and more pronounced. A pair of video meetings with Black Friday during the week had taken their toll, leaving him sapped of energy and constantly second guessing himself. He forced his eyes down from the glass to the sheen of the deck at his feet. Since before the One Year War, Trent had been a man concerned primarily about the welfare of the men and women under his command. He tried to always remember them whenever he made a meaningful decision, in combat or otherwise. It had kept him and those that served with him as safe as one can get as a soldier in wartime; his original Columbus-class was finally damaged beyond repair by friendly fire in 0083, not by the enemy.

He always thought he was the one that knew how to read and manipulate people to get he and his men what they needed, but he was nothing compared to Friday. If he used finesse to get what he wanted, then Black's use of language and... mental ability felt like linguistic blunt force trauma. Even so, it was like nobody noticed. Unless Friday's attention was focused on you, you didn't feel the pressure. His words and demeanor seemed perfectly pleasant, almost friendly at first blush, but that man... Trent pulled the neck of his coat closed tighter. That man made Trent's 'ability' with words seem like the fumbling of a child trying to lie to adults. He kept asking himself the same thing - was he really doing what was best for Echo, or was he simply made to think he was?

And really there was no use in getting worked up over that any more. They were far past a point of no return. Gryps 2 was still in the hands of Axis, the AEUG was due to arrive, possibly within the next three days, and the Jupitris had begun to issue orders concurrent to (and increasingly contradictory to) those coming from the Dogosse Gier. Those in charge had attempted to prevent news of Jamitov's death from spreading, but Trent had done nothing to keep it a secret. Echo had received Paptimus' original message of Hymem's death, and it did him no good to keep it from his crew. He dragged his vision back up to the windows. The Jupitris was now much closer to the rest of the fleet than it had been the day Jamitov was killed.

Beyond the huddled Titans ships were Gryps 2 and Axis. If Black and Scirocco were telling the truth, then something monumental would happen once the AEUG arrived and began their attack.

- Wolf's Quarters -

Wolf's hands shook as he re-read the response sent to him from the flagship. 'Request re: ENS Alexandra Engel, LTJG Dante Diotrephes - DENIED. Reason given: none.'. The page attached to it was almost more infuriating; 'Ritter, please do not waste the time of myself or Capt. Om with your personal matters. - LT Ross'. "Bastards!" Ritter howled, tearing the letter to shreds. The bits of paper hung in the air like drifting snow as he continued to curse Bask Om and everyone else he could think of. He KNEW Bask was responsible for taking Alexi away. He KNEW Bask could tell him exactly where she was sent. "I'll kill all of you!" he shouted, snatching up a half empty container of water to throw it at the wall. It bounced away with a clunk, only making him angrier.

He had been fed tiny pieces of information for too long to get stonewalled at such an important time. If he had to wait until all of his enemies killed each other at Gryps, then so be it. Everyone that had stood in his way or refused to cooperate would be dealt with, starting with Bask Om. Then Nick Te'Litha. Then bastards like Lieutenants Fordham and Ross, the intelligence men who had refused to give him even the false hope of useless information. He had to get out of his room. Instead of feeling discouragement or shame, he willed himself to turn it into anger. The Destiny and his anger would keep him alive long enough to see justice done.

- Alpha Team Ready Room -

Making use of a rare and merciful period of peace and quiet, Stukov sat in his team's ready room studying the Griffin and preparing himself for the upcoming battle. Endurance would not be a problem for him or his machine. The Griffin would not be mass-produced, because that would require the Titans continued existance. That wouldn't happen, and Stukov had already accepted his fate. There would be no fleet of Griffins to save the Titans, but it was a very high performance suit; Stukov would be at his very best during his most important battle. His finest hour as a hunter would perhaps be when he was surrounded. "They will be right where I want them," he muttered under his breath.

- The Herakles -
- Bridge -

"What do you mean it isn't priority?!" Capt. Berg protested, leaning forward in his seat. "I'm sorry, sir, but the flagship and our intelligence service is already backlogged. If you've got evidence please send it to the Dogosse Gier, otherwise we can't start a new investigation. We just don't have the available manpower," the officer on the flagship responded. "I'll get you your damned evidence, JG. If you're not willing to put in the effort I'll do your job for you," Berg shot back, closing the communication. That was easier said than done. On his own, he could only provide tenuous connections between people within Taskforce Echo and Paptimus Scirocco, mostly through that Capt. Friday. With Tariq Sayed dead and over half of his materials suddenly vanished, everything would be harder to prove.

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 Post Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 7:29 pm 
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-The Kalinin-
-Bridge-

"Are we sure, Mister Parker?" Marshall Nguyen asked flatly to the man on his left.

The executive officer gave a slight frown, the kind his commander seemed to constantly have. "As sure was we can be, sir. We've run a dozen complete sweeps over the past week. Every wire. Every switch. Every light. Everything. I'm worried if we keep checking we'll either break something ourselves or start finding faults that aren't really there. Nevermind exhaustion," His tone was almost pleading.

Nguyen sat in his chair and looked straight ahead at the deck of his Salamis Kai as he thought about what the XO had said with a blank face. The XO looked out for the crew, he had been a gunnery officer before being promoted, and was usually informal with them. Nguyen wasn't exactly happy with that, but as long as it didn't affect performance, he ignored it. Lieutenant Commander Parker's concerns, however, were quite real. Nguyen didn't need his men jumping at shadows, and it certainly was taxing to be sweeping the ship as often and as thoroughly as Marshall had made them.

He sighed. "Very well, Parker. Next change we go back on normal rotations. Give those who pulled the most shifts a little extra time off."

"Yes sir." The XO nodded and moved to exit.

"That means you too, Parker." Nguyen added as he made a note on the top paper in the stack he held.

"Yes sir." Parker nodded and exited the bridge.

Nguyen finished writing and turned to the other Lieutenant Commander, standing to his right. "And your team?"

Alpha Bate gave a slight shrug, which still struck Nguyen as way too smug. "I've got them doing one combat run a day in the simulators. We'd do more, but it takes too long to reset everything. Other than that, I've got Hicks and Craig reading the books and watching the films, and that's basically all we can do under the circumstances. Sir." He quickly tacked on to the end of his report.

Nguyen flipped through his papers quickly. "Very well. Continue as you have."

Bate nodded. "Any idea on when we'll be getting into combat?"

Nguyen shook his head. "None."

Bate stood there for a moment, but Nguyen didn't look his way. Alpha sighed. "Alright, sir. Let me know if you find out anything so I can try and work in some more sim runs." He tossed a sloppy slaute before walking behind the Captain's chair and leaving through the same door the XO had used before. Nguyen continued with his endless paperwork.

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 Post Posted: Sun Jun 06, 2010 8:49 pm 
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-Kirov Hallways-

Heyden glanced into his cigarette holder, three lousy smokes was all he had left. For some god damned reason noone on the Kirov seemed to smoke. The only time he ever saw anyone with any kind of cigarette was that sociopath Te'litha freak. Pan grudgingly light one of his last smokes as he turned into the messhall.

The food on the kirov was palpable, probably a lot more healthy then the food they served on the Dervish. The food here just left Pan feeling empty, didn't help that the cook was a stingy old bastard. Heyden couldn't help but grin at the cook. The poor guy was pretty much doomed. He would most likely die in the dervish, another casualty of war, but a minor one that noone would give a damn about.

"You hurry the hell up with that?" Heyden growled with his cigarette pinched between his lips, as he waited for the cook to package his meal.

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 Post Posted: Sun Jun 06, 2010 11:45 pm 
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- Gryps Space -

- The Kirov -
- Bridge -

"-rs moving to this area, 'below' Gryps 2. They'll support... Sir? Captain, are you okay?" Mortimer said, breaking out of his monotone presentation. Trent was resting his head against his hand, his eyes shut tight as he winced in pain. He took a moment, removing his hat to brush back his hair from his damp brow, and then nodded. "I'm fine... It's just a headache," he said, blinking slowly a few times. He rubbed his temples and kept his hat in his lap. "That was strange..." Trent thought; he didn't get headaches that felt like that unless he had just been forced to speak to Capt. Friday. There was something else. A feeling that was something like dread.; he felt like he shouldn't be there. That was easy to ignore, though - he knew he shouldn't be there...

- Hallway -

"Ah, sir," Daren called out when he saw Ritter coming down the same corridor. He pushed away from the grip that was pulling him in the opposite direction as Wolf and stopped himself expertly with the heel of his boot. "Daren," Wolf nodded, greeting his subordinate through his teeth. He looked Nwosu up and down and commented, "You're getting better at moving around in zero-g,". Daren bowed slightly, a serious look on his face, "Yes, sir. I am an earthnoid but I adapt quickly,". Picking up easily on Ritter's demeanor, he asked, "Sir, did you receive a response...". "Bah!" Wolf grumbled, cutting off the junior pilot, "I got a non-answer. I was ignored. Again! The bastards will all be purged from the ranks...". Daren nodded solemnly, "They'll learn what it means to cross your family, sir. I'm sure you'll find her, safe and sound,". Wolf's jaw seemed to tremble slightly at that comment but he turned away quickly and set off down the hall again, still muttering curses under his breath.

- Alpha Team Ready Room -

Stukov took a long drink from the water container tethered to his wrist. The crew - pilots in particular - were given a specially controlled diet and vitamins to help them cope with the effects of long-term duty in space. But to him it wasn't nearly a match for physical exertion. He tried to keep his body in as good of shape as his mind - he felt it was part of being the best warrior on the modern battlefield. Space or not, he'd be ready to defend himself with his own strength if it was required of him. He went back to work on the elliptical bike he was secured to, like a cosmonaut from the old calendar. Exercise equipment was provided aboard the ships but was rarely used. At a time like this, he figured he might have been the only one in the fleet doing so. "I'll be ready," he grunted, pushing himself to go faster.

- Hallway -

Dolk stopped at an intersection of two corridors and leaned against a corner. He pulled out one earbud and listened to the sounds of the ship for a moment before putting it back in it's semi-permanent place and moving on. His target was supposed to be monitoring Nick Te'Litha, and he was only halfway seriously pursuing that goal at the moment. Foremost in his mind was finding that girl Grace from Lt. Alvarez' team. She had brushed him off the first couple of times they had seen each other, but he knew he could change her mind. Those other two punks that were always hanging around her would be easy to deal with.

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 Post Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 9:44 pm 
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- Alexandria Class-Kirov-
- Mess Hall –


The past few days had been rather uneventful for Sven, besides some uneventful briefings and some patrol runs Beta Team had nothing to do. Still, Sven was on edge. It wasn’t the boredom getting to him, or the fact that it looked like the end all battle was coming and the Titans had it fit to be the underdog. The destiny was on his mind. Sven had observed Wolf slowly unravel from the man he had initially met in the corridor outside his room. Since his father’s death, Wolf had begun to act differently, the loss of his family and supporters undoubtedly hurt him, but Wolf’s progenitors had faced greater trials and perils in the past. Shaking his head as he turned into the mess hall Sven whistled under his breath, the stories made it always sound so easy, that the correct choice was always visible or in ones grasp. Having played his role diligently these past few months Sven had learned the realistic way that those stories would always remain just that.

These dark thoughts are what had moved him to go eat anyways. He hadn’t been eating regularly these past few days out of worry and lack of sleep. A dark doubt had entered his mind recently, he had sought to banish it, but it continued to grow and gnaw away at him. What if the patriarch had been wrong? What if this wasn’t the time for the destiny? Thinks seemed to be slipping out of their hands faster than they could act, and with Wolf stuck on a combat vessel they had no way to control larger events. That vessel was also filled with likely assassin. It had struck Sven right after the debacle with Scirocco that he himself may be targeted to lower Wolf’s protection. Since that time he hadn’t left his room with his sidearm. Sven tried to put the worry out as natural and part of the culmination of the destiny, but something still ticked at him. There were other Ritter’s of course, Wolf’s uncle, some of his cousins, the clan still lived on.

Sven did know that no matter what lay in store he would die before he let Wolf get killed. Perhaps if the destiny was listening it would also let him kill Te’litha and all the damned traitors in one fell swoop. Coming out of these deep thoughts Sven realized he was standing behind a fellow pilot. Uncertain of who he was from the angle, Sven judged from his appearance that he was likely one of the transfers. Catching a glimpse of his cigarette though gave him away. He had seen the man chain smoking anywhere too many times to not know him as one of Alphas new pilots.

Still standing behind the unknown man Sven felt the sudden urge to start a conversation with the mysterious pilot. Sven spoke softly, but loud enough to be heard over the other conversation, “You really ought to not rush the cook. Otherwise his cooking will kill you faster than those cigarettes or any AEUG pilot you happen to meet.”


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 Post Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 8:42 pm 
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Heyden's attention was suddenly redirected at the man who had walked up behind him. Heyden spun on his heel and glared balling his fists. He exhaled blowing smoke right in Sven's face.

"Who the hell are you!" Pan knew enough that this guy was one of Ritter's minions. If Heyden was supposed to get to Ritter he would most likely have to get through this guy and a few others who're loyal to the Ritter Clan.

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 Post Posted: Fri Jun 11, 2010 2:03 pm 
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Buxoro Hangar

Aaron and Tim


It was only a matter of time before the next big battle. Up until this year Aaron's time in the EFSF had been spent flying around in space on patrol. Now, now he'd been in several major engagements within the later half of the year. But this one, the one he could feel looming ahead, was going to be something else. Twenty days from now he hopes to turn twenty two years-old. But he doesn't feel like the Titans or he will make it that far.

Sitting in the seat of a service car used by the mechanics Tim lazily napped. Ether he didn't have a care in the world, or he was exhausted to the point beyond his worries keeping him awake.

Aaron couldn't understand it, but Tim was always clean shaved. Never even a little bit of stubble. When he found the time to shave was unknown to anybody. Aaron on the other had had a few days growth on his face and would have to find the time to shave soon.

"Hey Tim, wake up!" he yelled.

"Huh wha!" Tim moved startled in the seat. "We launching?"

"No, but there is still plenty of work to do." Aaron said motioning to the Hi-Zacks.

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 Post Posted: Fri Jun 11, 2010 11:27 pm 
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Location: Von Braun
- Alexandria Class-Kirov-
- Delta Team Ready Room -


Kyle sits in the middle of the room watching his helmet spin in the air. The quick sortie was a brief relief but he realized that the writing was on the wall. It was another retreat plain and simple and now there are only so many places left to run to.
As he contemplated his future in the military, his stomach growled sending his mind on food instead.


- Mess hall -

Allister stands from the seat he was lounging on to refill his cup. The coffee is probably the only thing worth consuming on this bucket, he muses.
As he nears the counter he spots two other pilots waiting for some grub. Grant's eyes focus on Sven and gives a disapproving glare. He is reminded of an intelligence officer he met earlier. From the man's demeanor and posture he can tell that this man is another sheep, a follower.

"This ship is full of weasels," he thought angrily, " There's no way we're gonna win."


-Kirov Hallways-

Buttoning his collar and tucking his shirt, Jason took a last look in a mirror correcting any wrinkles and pulling a loose thread. After heaving a sigh he exited his room and took hold of a gripper taking him deeper into the crew's quarters section of the ship. It was anyone's guess when the final battle will take place so he was going to spend his downtime will the only person he cared about. Honestly, Jason wouldn't mind if the Titans would surrender at that second. He was tired a finally for the first time in months he could actually see himself living outside of the military. Before, the thought of losing to the spacenoids would have sickened him beyond belief but now a calmness seems to have settled in him for the past month and extinguish most of his hate. He was only upset with himself for holding back his feelings toward Grace at dinner the other night but he did hint at wanting to see where she was from after the war.
Earlier he received a message that a trusted friend was able to sell his father's few remaining assets which fetched a tiny fortune. Certainly enough for two people to travel the world together or build a small school where one could teach --if that's what she really wanted to do.

Arriving at Grace's door with news he wanted to share, Jason straightens up and presses the buzzer on a panel.

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 Post Posted: Sat Jun 12, 2010 11:02 am 
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- Hallway -

Lt. Dolk slithered around the far corner of the hallway that featured the doors to Gamma and Delta Teams' quarters, music still pounding in his ears. Between his shades, his small MiniDisc player and his fixation on his own greatness he managed to float-strut all the way to Grace's door without noticing the nervous Jason. He came to a stop at the left side of the doorway and slowly realized he was not alone. "Eh-?" he muttered, obviously slightly startled in an angry way. He looked Jason up and down, his lip curling a little at the nice clothes and presentation; then he looked down at his own wrinkled uniform and shrugged, reaching out to stab at the buzzer himself. He pressed it several times, causing it to go off in an annoying manner.

His expression had changed from a smug smirk to a serious look of annoyance. "When I'm havin' fun, you know I can't conceal it-" he said slowly as if it was a warning, turning his head to Jason again, "'Cause I know you'd never cut in my game. Oh no."

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 Post Posted: Sat Jun 12, 2010 11:29 pm 
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- Hallway -

@@*!! $@&@@!!!

As obscenities filled Jason's mind--to add further insult he also had to stand at attention since the weird old guy was an officer but he wasn't going to back down to this leech. If the geezer was left alone with Grace, Jason was sure it probably would lead to rape.

"Sir," he nodded. "I heard you took down one of those pink zekes." he chirped as they waited for the door to open.

It was the only time he hoped Lt. Alvarez would show up so he can keep this clown in line. After that it should be no problem since Jason's pretty sure that Leandro only likes men.

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 Post Posted: Sun Jun 13, 2010 10:22 pm 
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- Gryps Space -

- The Kirov -
- Mess Hall -

Instead of bothering Wolf further, Daren decided to continue on to his original destination - the mess hall. While he was the youngest man in the team and the least experienced mobile suit pilot, Ritter and Haksson were competent and dangerous enough on their own. Whatever went on at Gryps, he'd have to stick close to them; he knew it was much more important than simply being his job. There were people expecting him to succeed, and there would be dire consequences if he didn't. Plans would not be able to move forward if he failed. In any case, there would hopefully be one last outburst of violence at Gryps and then he could go home, though he knew that if Wolf was killed he would likely be killed shortly thereafter. He didn't doubt his own abilities though - he would be right there close to Ritter when the time came to act.

Up ahead Heyden snarled at Sven, "Who the hell are you?". Daren noticed Allister Grant looking on disapprovingly from not far away. Ignoring Grant, Nwosuu inserted himself into the near-confrontation, approaching the pair of JGs to say quietly, "Pan, this is Ltjg. Sven Haksson. You should know this, sir". It sounded like he was almost admonishing Pan for not recognizing Sven.

- Beta Team Ready Room -

Wolf was still muttering curses under his breath when he entered the team's ready room. The lack of gravity and a door to slam behind him only got to him more, causing him to grind his teeth as he moved to his locker. The list of supporters had shrunk to a degree that hadn't been seen for several generations, leaving him with few options outside the men he already had with him. He opened his locker and pushed aside his normal suit, looking for the extra uniform that was stored inside. Stuffed inside one of the inner pockets was a folded piece of paper that --

"What?"

Wolf turned the empty pocket inside out, his hands trembling with anger. Now they were brazen enough to steal from him! He threw the jacket back into the locker and slammed it shut, spinning back to the doorway with a howl of rage. The most likely thief was the new girl, the one conveniently added to his team as a fourth. He was very near a break point and something had to give.

- Hallway -

GySgt Mannhart shifted his gun belt with his free hand as he allowed a grip to haul him up one of the chilly hallways of the flagship. Instead of taking care of his own business with ship security, he was off looking for those good-for-nothing lunkheads Hepburn and Applegate. Jackson seemed like a decent enough guy, but he knew better than to assume the best about the people that did work for Black Friday - in particular the goons he sent to do wet work. Not that he had any room to talk when it came to that kind of thing. "Swear to God, if that idiot Applegate is making time with another one of the girls around here, I'll break his damn nose. Then we'll see how much they like his face," he thought, glancing down a corridor as he passed. He had to find those two to make sure they were doing their job, and then he needed to find Dolk and Te'Litha.

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 Post Posted: Mon Jun 14, 2010 1:25 am 
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Kirov, Crew Quarters

Ltjg. Kelborn

Grace got up after hearing the buzzer. She had been catching up on some much needed rest and threw on a light fitting undershirt, becoming a bit peeved when it buzzed a couple more times as she made herself decent. She opened the door and was very surprised to see not just Jason, but Dolk as well much to her displeasure. Scowling at Dolk she considered the situation for a half a moment and decided that probably the best way to get rid of Dolk might not be just to tell him but to show him that he wasn't wanted at all. To that end Grace turned towards Jason, smiled and then kissed him full and passionately on the lips before either man could say a word in her presence. After breaking apart she grabbed Jason by the collar threw him into her room then shut the door after him with her on the outside. With the situation of alpha male posturing hopefully diffused, she gave a sigh, threw a sloppy salute to Dolk and asked "May I help you Lieutenant?" as if he might be here on normal ship business.

Mess Hall

Lt. Te'litha

"Somewhat like he should know that you work for Wolf too? Give the man a break, he's only been here for a week, it's hard to keep all you Ritters' straight," Nick pushed up Tiraq's shades, wanting to keep a better eye on Sven, Wolf's most loyal dog. "Though I will admit that it has become easier since Papa Ritter passed away, god condemn his poor soul." Nick mocked the two mercilessly, having walked into the situation in the mess hall, and sized it up instantly after overhearing the tail end of the confrontation. Never missing an opportunity to mess with Wolf or his flunkies he moved over to Pans side, Nick flung a half pack that he had filched at the former AEUG member. "Figured you might be running out of those."
Nick had been thinking about how to get back at Friday and figured he should talk to Pan and get on whatever tiny good side the man had, getting into a fight with Wolf's subordinates would just be icing. Remembering that he still had those syringes of sedatives on him, he relished the thought of knocking one them out even if only for a few hours to send Wolf into a fit.

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 Post Posted: Mon Jun 14, 2010 6:36 pm 
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- Alexandria Class-Kirov
- Mess Hall -


If it could be described as such, events transpired in an elongated rush for Sven. He had held his breath through the exhaled smoke and was about to respond when Daren appeared from nowhere to introduce him. He grimaced slightly at Daren’s introduction, the pilot was able and certain and loyal, Sven had not planned to give away his full identity though. Still, the situation had taken control out of his hands and he was thinking how to adapt it when Te’litha strode into the mess hall. He heard his voice first, "Somewhat like he should know that you work for Wolf too? Give the man a break, he's only been here for a week, it's hard to keep all you Ritters' straight," Nick pushed up Tiraq's shades, wanting to keep a better eye on Sven, Wolf's most loyal dog. "Though I will admit that it has become easier since Papa Ritter passed away, god condemn his poor soul." From the first moment he spoke Sven’s reactions began to sharpen, much like any experienced combat veteran’s does. As he walked up he threw a pack of smokes to the now known Pan.

The situation, if it could, only grew tenser as Te’litha took sides against Daren and Sven. By the time Te’litha had finished speaking though Sven had made up his mind on his course of action. His private school critical thinking skills combined with his father’s perspectives on “teaching” again paid off. He was uncertain of Daren’s personal combat skills, and he knew his own lacked. Te’litha would fight like a mad dog with rabies and this Pan looked like he knew how to scrap. Most importantly though, with the power balance tipped Daren and Sven and by extension Wolf, would suffer all the penalties for any kind of altercation, as such Sven had to try and keep this as non-violent as possible.

Turning his head slightly to look at Te’litha, or what he imagined as made for Te’litha’s eyes a slight shock his Sven. He knew Tariq’s sunglasses when he saw them and had not known Te’litha had got his hands on them. The brazenness and apparent lack of discipline of Scirocco’s men slightly bothered Sven. If they allowed Te’litha to wear those glasses, apparently telling the world who helped to commit that crime, then his backers power would certainly be vast. For the briefest of moments Sven also wished he knew something about Nick’s back story. He knew of his crimes committed since meeting him, but on the large was unaware of the man’s story before meeting him months back. Leaving his regrets behind Sven calmly began to speak without offering a salute, “Te’litha, for that very reason I planned on talking to your friend. Since he is new onboard the Kirov, I figured I would give him the advice of not insulting the cook. Some months ago another crew member spent a week in the infirmary with terrible food poisoning for his words.” Finishing, he turned his head to gaze at Pan, “Pan is it? You must have come onboard with the rest of the replacements then?”


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-Messhall-

Pan only quickly flashed Nick a quick grin, as he caught the smokes. It was obvious that Pan was merely looking for a fight or somekind of altercation. Pan managed to keep his mouth shut for a few moments as he gave his new cigarettes a once over. He didn't give a crap about food poisoning or some unlucky crew member.

"Listen, I ain't looking for friends" Pan said squinting his eyes. "So why don't you take your little butt buddy here and run up to your sugar daddy and do what ever you people do when the doors closed." Pan glanced back at Nick and shot him another mischievous grin, half hoping his insult would rise a laugh out of the man.

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 Post Posted: Mon Jun 21, 2010 12:51 am 
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- Gryps Space -

- The Kirov -
- Mess Hall -

"Somewhat like he should know that you work for Wolf too? Give the man a break, he's only been here for a week, it's hard to keep all you Ritters' straight. Though I will admit that it has become easier since Papa Ritter passed away, god condemn his poor soul," Nick said, arriving on the scene. Daren closed his eyes for a moment as a minor worst-case scenario seemed to be developing in his lap. He reminded himself he was a professional. Pan Heyden was a stubborn and violent blabbermouth, enough to be a handful on his own, but with Te'Litha present he felt his control of the situation rapidly slipping away. To make things worse Nick was plainly wearing Tariq Sayed's old pair of omnipresent sunglasses. The man either had no sense of shame or no use for subtlety. Was their master that powerful already? Pan and Nick seemed to think so.

Nick boorishly aligned himself shoulder to shoulder with Heyden. Both men were looking for a fight and a train of thought similar to Sven's ran through Daren's mind as he judged the situation. Leaving Sven to do the talking, being of senior rank and Ritter's right hand man, Daren did his best to keep his posture as non-threatening as possible to avoid goading Pan or Nick into escalating things. He made sure to not ball his hands into fists. He kept his stare at Nick direct but not angry. “Te’litha, for that very reason I planned on talking to your friend. Since he is new onboard the Kirov, I figured I would give him the advice of not insulting the cook. Some months ago another crew member spent a week in the infirmary with terrible food poisoning for his words," Haksson said to Nick, then turned to Heyden, “Pan is it? You must have come onboard with the rest of the replacements then?”.

"I believe he did," Daren spoke up quietly, but he may not have been heard as Pan rudely responded. "Listen, I ain't looking for friends," Pan squinted, "So why don't you take your little butt buddy here and run up to your sugar daddy and do what ever you people do when the doors closed,". What a crude man. Pan was like a caricature of an earthnoid; but maybe that was useful to Scirocco in a way. Daren looked Te'Litha up and down again, at least thankful that the sunglasses hid the man's bizarre eyes.

- Hallway -

"ZOINKS," Mannhart muttered bitterly as he left another area the men he was searching for were not in. Applegate wasn't even near either set of female showers... and he wasn't going to check in the male ones. It bothered him more that he couldn't easily locate Jackson Hepburn, who should have stood out anywhere he went on the ship. He hadn't even caught a whiff of his damn tobacco. And the more he thought about it he didn't think he had ever seen him smoke a cigar even though he was always chomping on one. Frowning, he released the grip that was towing him along and kicked off the wall suddenly to change direction. He had searched enough low, now it was time to go high, starting with the mess hall and other prominent areas.

- Outside Grace's Room -

Dolk watched Grace's 'message' but it didn't seem to get much of a reaction. At least not the one she was looking for. "May I help you Lieutenant?". "Uh..." he said, seeming to take a moment to form a coherent string of words of his own creation, "So... Room for one more?" he asked, pulling his shades down with one finger to leer at her. Instead of being mad or looking defeated he had sort of a smug, sleazy look. Pulling a man into her room and then paying attention to him was at best a mixed message to Dolk who had spent years as drummer in a hair metal band.

- Bridge -

"Sorry, Wolf, but they notified us too. I can't send your message," Trent said, shaking his head. Ritter's anger was stymied for a moment as he was dumbfounded at the captain's response. He blinked a few times at the comm operator's station and looked over at Trent's chair. He hadn't noticed before how worn down Andrewson looked, but meeting his gaze and studying his eyes told him what he needed to know. His enemies had gotten to Trent, too. Either that, or he was willingly working with them. The intelligence and communications officers on the Dogosse Gier refused to cooperate and now he wasn't even being allowed to attempt contact with them. "I didn't make the decision," Trent said, shrugging his tired shoulders. Wolf crumpled up the written message he had brought and stuffed it into his pocket. "I'm sure you didn't," he snapped, turning to leave.

"What is that about, sir?" Mortimer asked after Ritter was gone. Trent rubbed his eyes and answered, "You heard the order when it came in, chief. No personal messages are being sent out any more,". Kellman frowned but nodded, "Yes, sir. But why mention Wolf specifically?". "And why did the order come from the Jupitris?"

- The Herakles -
- Captain's Quarters-

Capt. Berg leaned closer to the small screen in his quarters and spoke in hushed tones despite the total privacy the room provided. "So, that's it? What explanation was given?" he asked, hardly believing what he was told. "There wasn't a clear one, really," the intelligence officer responded in his own softened voice, "I tried to get a clarification but they're not telling me everything any more either. There's not much outgoing data or communication at all - I'd normally guess it was primarily trying to keep Jamitov's assassination under wraps but that was leaked all over the place before we could keep everyone's mouth shut. They gave me a story about pre-combat operations, but this isn't normal. It's an information blackout,". The officer on the Dogosse Gier paused to look around. "Listen, Capt. Berg - If I were you I'd keep my head low, plain and simple. At this point making waves will only get you killed. I've seen this kind of thing before," he continued, lowering his voice to a near whisper.

- The Jupitris -
- Black Friday's Quarters -

More files full of pictures. Friday only looked through each one at this point because they were part of his growing success. A bundle from South America, Africa, southeast Asia. More dead men. Scirocco's grip tightened on the earth government even as it closed around the Titans. Once Friday was done sweeping away the remnant of Wolf Ritter's flawed ideology there would be one less obstacle in the way of Paptimus' vision. The new pictures went in the same file folder as the other Ritter-related items, and Black gracefully flicked open a bound sheaf of papers. He clicked a pen and crossed off another half dozen names of prominent family supporters, leaving only a pitiful few left untouched. Besides Ritter's name the only truly notable ones left were the Hakssons. He reached over to another paper and jotted down a note about that, and his personal computer console built into the desk buzzed as a new message came in. "Capt. Isaac Berg, Jr.," he repeated after reading the note. Having a man or two on the Dogosse Gier was paying off.

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 Post Posted: Mon Jun 21, 2010 11:25 pm 
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- Alexandria Class-Kirov-
- Grace's Room -


In the blink of an eye usually describes an event that was very brief almost impossible to recall every detail but in Jason's case it was quite the opposite. Seeing Grace's smile loom closer put him at ease until it became a kiss. Jason's arms slightly raised and hands opened up in surprise as his first kiss came in the form of a sneak attack.
It might not have lasted long but for Jason it felt like an eternity and every one of his senses seemed to have heightened as he could clearly hear Grace's heartbeat over the ambient noise of the ship even over Dolk's gruff music. Soon Dolk and the hallway evaporated in a silent white flash and the pair were alone floating in space. With their closeness he could feel the outline of her body especially thru the light undershirt she was wearing. Her warmth actually caused a bead of sweat to run down his temple but before he could process anything else he felt like being pulled in a direction.

As Jason's senses return, he found himself kneeling in front of Grace's unmade bed.

she was just lying there

Covering up the tiny squirt of blood from his nose with his hands, he gets up and jumps to a corner before Grace reenters her room. "..did that just happened?" a puzzled Jason asks himself as he unbuttons his top collar trying to cool down.

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 Post Posted: Mon Jun 28, 2010 12:00 am 
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- Gryps Space -

- The Kirov -
- Mess Hall -

"What the HELL is this?" Mannhart rumbled as he walked through the mess hall doors and caught sight of the slow burning confrontation on the far side of the room. The two idiots that were supposed to baby-sit Nick were still nowhere to be found, but there was Te'Litha and that brash chain smoker Heyden staring down Ritter's two henchmen. If they were dumb enough to start something, he'd have to dive in and separate them. And because he was technically the acting head of the ship's security detachment he could drag them off to knock some sense into them. He blew out a huff of a breath and started to head in their direction, hiking up his gunbelt again.

Where the four men were staring each other down, Daren happened to glance over and catch sight of the marine sergeant. His mouth thinned into a small line and he looked back to Nick and Pan to see if they were aware of him yet. Having one of the Scirocco-friendly marines get involved would tip the scales the wrong way and make it that much harder for him to stay in control. Trying to stand his ground but stay not too physically threatening, he slowly crossed his arms and tried to think of a new way to get him and Sven out of the situation.

- Hallway, Near Pilot Quarters -

Wolf tore the note he had written into little pieces as he made his way back to his room. Another possible avenue to his eventual victory was gone now that Trent was cooperating with his enemies, whether it was by his own choice or not. Contact with the Dogosse Gier seemed to be off the table, and even if he did get a message through to them it would likely be ignored. He felt increasingly alone, trapped in the midst of a great many people that wished him only harm and failure. With so many of his family's supporters dead or infuriatingly unaccounted-for there weren't many options left open to him. He decided he had to act as soon as possible; waiting any longer would make his position worse. He had to find Sven and Daren and get to work. First, there was some scant evidence Tariq had given to him before the man's unfortunate death that he needed to retrieve.

Normally he would have gone out of his way to take the long route and avoid Gamma Team's rooms, but he was still fuming that the gravity of his situation was making him act like a panic-stricken commoner instead of like the leader he was supposed to be. Instead of going around, he went straight past Gamma's hallway and was close enough to hear part of a whispered conversation going on outside one of the rooms. Wolf extended a hand to touch the wall to slow himself down and listen. "...paid enough, though. I mean it's on time, yeah. But I'm worth more than that," a voice chuckled arrogantly. The other man humphed and admonished, "I'd watch my mouth if I were you, boy. I get the feelin' you won't stay on the payroll for long if you start complaining,". Wolf's eyes narrowed - he knew that voice; it was one of the new pilots, the huge lummox of a man that was always chewing a cigar. He slowly leaned closer to the corner to take a peek around the edge.

Just as he thought, it was Jackson Hepburn talking to the other pilot he was always prowling around with, Applegate. He pressed against the wall, moving back enough to avoid being seen while he continued to listen. "Yeah, whatever. He owes me, and we've got a deal. Besides, what the hell else is there to do? That Ritter guy is screwed and we get to sit around until we can fight off the Zeon and the AEUG once they show up," Parks said. Hepburn's cigar wagged to the other corner of his mouth. "Yeah, you've got a deal. So stick with it and don't make waves, idjit. Do you really want to try negotiating with him?" he grunted. Applegate crossed his arms and smirked, "He's really got you scared, huh big guy? I didn't say I was going to fly over there and demand a raise. I'm just going to take it easy for a couple of days and then decide if I deserve some hazard pay, you know?".

- Bridge -

"Incoming message, sir... Looks like updated orders," Fyodor announced, turning to his comm controls. "The Dogosse Gier?" Trent asked, leaning forward in his seat to wait for the printout. Fyodor shook his head and responded, "No, sir. The Jupitris..." he tore off the paper that had printed the orders and swiveled in his seat to hand it to the captain. "The flagship is being very quiet..." Mortimer muttered, looking over at Andrewson. Trent scanned the paper and then tucked it into his jacket. "I think there's some kind of uneasy understanding right now..." Trent said, leaning back heavily in his seat, "The Dogosse Gier has issued standing orders. They don't want to get into a shoving match right before we have to fight the AEUG and Axis,". Chief Kellman continued to study his captain for a few moments before asking, "So are we following standing orders?". Trent was himself silent for a second or two. "No. We've been given a new position. Echo is moving to guard a different area,".

"Aye, sir," Kellman simply responded, turning back to his console to do his job. A few of the other operators looked around and began to quietly talk amongst themselves. Trent sighed and rubbed his clammy forehead - he wasn't willing to struggle to keep a facade up any longer. Taskforce Echo was taking orders from Paptimus Scirocco, not Bask Om.

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 Post Posted: Mon Jun 28, 2010 1:11 pm 
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-The Herakles-
-Hallway-

Once again Alex had become bored. It had been about a week since Jamitov had been assassinated by Axis troops, at least that was the current rumor going around, and after the initial excitement of avenging his death things had gotten quiet again. It was during this quiet time that Alex thought back to when Berg mentioned how the Titans were pretty much enemies of everyone in the Earth Sphere at this point.

Alex hadn't noticed it too much at first but after Jamitov's death Echo had steadily moved closer and closer to the Jupitris, Paptimus Scirocco's personal ship, instead of Bask's Dogose Gier. Coupling that with what hushed comments he heard from other crew members, it seemed that Scirocco was the one calling the shots in the Titans.

Turning around a corner Alex walked past Captain Berg's quarters before stopping and walking back to knock on his door. If Scirroco really was the one in command, he had to know what exactly Berg had planned for his own ship......


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- The Kirov -
- Kate's Quarters -

Oblivious to the rising tension on board, Kate was at the private terminal in her quarters, writing her daily log. It was an old habit, one from her childhood, which seemed so long ago. After the drop, she had been encouraged to keep it up as a coping mechanism. She had, and had since filled many volumes of both written and digital records. It was a ritual and it calmed her.

The recent entries were exactly what you would expect from days spent floating in space in a ship. For some reason, this had not had the soothing affect it normally did. Though the issues, both great and small, that the rest of the ship were struggling through meant little to her, this managed to upset her, however slightly. It was an odd feeling, one that she had not felt in a long, long time.

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 Post Posted: Sun Jul 04, 2010 10:59 pm 
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- Gryps Space -

- The Kirov -
- Mess Hall -

"One of you scumbags please explain to me just what I'm seeing!" GySgt. Mannhart bellowed, exploding into the midst of the standoff between Scirocco's and Ritter's followers. Pan's belligerent attitude in line had caused several nearby crew and staff to back off slightly, and Mannhart's yelling made them shrink away even farther. A couple of men nervously rose from their seats and moved to leave the mess hall. "You pukes are some of the dumbest examples of humanity I have ever seen," the gunnery sergeant spat, coming close to getting in Pan's face as he dressed down the quartet, "I had heard pilots were some stupid sons of bitches, but while you're here why don't you show the common courtesy to act like you've got an IQ higher than your shoe size!".

He spun around and went nose to nose with Daren, shouting into the young man's face, "You are on my ship, you understand me?". He pointed at Sven and the other two to get his point across, "I don't care whose picture you sleep with on your pillow, gentlemen. While you're on this ship, you behave according to my rules!". He turned back to Nick and Pan, looking them up and down again. "Nice sunglasses, Te'Litha. Do they make them for men?" he barked, moving roughly between them to the serving line. "Now if you morons are going to eat, eat. If you're here to stir up trouble, then go ahead and escort yourselves to the brig now and save me the trouble so I can rearrange your face and adjust your attitude after I get a ZOINKS cup of coffee," he commanded, slamming his hand down on the counter and turning expectantly to the nearly-shaking cook. He sat a heated container of coffee down with a quivering hand and managed to croak, "Here you g-go, sir,".

Mannhart snatched it up and took a deep swig, looking back at Nick and Pan. "I used to thing Rowsdower was just a worthless hunk of crap. Now I know how much of a pain in the ass you two are," he muttered, pulling out a flask. He managed to carefully line of the opening of the coffee container with the neck of the flask, squeezing coffee into whatever liquor he was carrying to mix the two. His voice lower, he glanced at Sven and Daren and then back at his two 'compatriots', grunting, "I know you guys think you're hardasses, but when Ritter gets backed into a corner don't be surprised if he gets more dangerous,".

- Hallway, Near Pilot Quarters -

"I'll make sure you earn that hazard pay, you bastard," Wolf thought, looking daggers at Applegate. Parks crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. "So what's your deal? Calm down, big guy," Applegate half-whined, frowning at his associate. Hepburn grabbed the stub of a cigar out of his mouth and leaned closer, his intimidating bulk towering over Parks, "What's my 'deal'? My 'deal' is you didn't check on Te'Litha yesterday or talk to Mannhart. This ain't all my job,". Applegate slid past Jackson and backed down the hallway towards the lift. "Hey, it was your turn. And as far as I'm concerned my job is icing Rhys and Saad and being a hotshot pilot, which means I'm halfway done," he shrugged, palms up. "Damn it, PB, we're not taking turns! I told you to handle it yesterday while I was busy!" Hepburn growled, planting the cigar back at the corner of his mouth.

Wolf backed away from the corner as Parks got closer. "Whatever. I'm going to take a shower and then find that cute petty officer..." Applegate said, brushing off Jackson's anger. Hepburn sighed angrily and nodded, "Yeah, you do that. And then write a nice long letter to Capt. Friday explaining to him why you're not doing your job,". Parks chuckled, "Hey, you wouldn't narc on me, would you?". Wolf silently used the wall to push himself further down the hall, turning the corner into Beta Team's corridor to stay out of sight. "Don't push your luck," his surly partner responded as Parks glided into the elevator. After the door slid shut, Hepburn muttered, "Jackass," as he headed back into his quarters.

Wolf waited until the hall was quiet for several seconds and then emerged from the shadows in the alcove that held the door to Kate's room. So there was at least a little trouble in the enemy camp. On top of that, he was now absolutely certain it was that weird Capt. Friday and Paptimus Scirocco that were causing him all his troubles. That information would be useful later - for now he had to concentrate of the opportunity he had just stumbled across. If Applegate and Hepburn were going to be separated for a while, he had to do something. He had been on the defensive for too long, letting Friday and his men run amuck setting up their schemes and murdering men like Tariq with impunity. The Destiny was still within reach. He just had to be a little more proactive. With that in mind, he realized he'd need help. Sven, Daren or both of them would give him all the muscle he needed. Ritter looked around again to make sure Hepburn hadn't come back out of his room, and then entered the elevator himself to go to the mess hall.

- The Herakles -
- Captain's Quarters -

Capt. Berg was leaning with his hand on his forehead, re-reading for the umpteenth time the partial file Tariq Sayed had sent him when he heard Alex' faint knock. He hurriedly closed the folder and stuffed it into the top drawer of his desk to keep it from floating away. He rose from his seat and removed his overcoat, shoving it into his closet on the way to his room's door. Patting the sweat from his brow with a red handkerchief, he hesitated a moment before unlocking his door. He keyed it open, and it slid into the wall to reveal Alex standing alone in the hallway. Berg leaned out of the door slightly to look up and down the hall before stepping back. "Ltjg. Weber..." he nodded, rubbing his eyes, "What is it?".

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