as written by Azrican and barney_fife
High above the Midlands, a single A/SF-13 Cyclone blistered through the upper stratosphere, scramjets hauling the fighter-bomber and the power electronic equipment hung within the internal bays of the starjet. As long white tails boiled out from the Cyclone’s primary turbines and into the thin chilly air behind it, a digital telescope was training across the coastal reaches of the Terran continent, and quickly scanning the reaches of the world below. The two-man craft, one pilot and other electronic combat officer, was widely seen throughout the Naval Cavalry as an intermediary combat craft: truly when not equipped for war it was a superb reconnaissance aircraft.
One city in particular, having been 'tracked and tagged' through remote observation by the AEV-986, was what the Cyclone was passing over with the high-powered electronics suite called the LANTIRN. Visual photography was handled by two terapixel process-imagers that gave the otherwise slim belly of the Cyclone her parturiency, while most other emissions were processed within the LANTIRN's A/N-JS8/8 'Skyspy' suite. For the sake of redundancy, the Cyclone's built-in AN-GKS11 'Mustache' radar was at half-power allowing the onboard imagers to 'copy-proof' what they were receiving. New Caprica was coming into grainy, but inevitable resolution with every passing orbit - about twelve every half hour - as the electronics operator sought about fine tuning what emissions he had already gathered.
This was, of course, to verify a suitable landing zone for the some twenty FERRI drones, 19m long craft operated by either remote-presence or autonomously by one of thousands of interchangeable combat entities in wide use amongst the Apparatus. Several hundred kilometers above the Cyclone was where this air train was located, packed with not only prompt survival necessities: medicines, fortified foods and supplies, but also an ad-hoc platoon-sized force of Naval Corpsmen and their jaegermarine escorts. Within the spacious hold of one of the FERRI, a Starfleet Ensign (First Class) took a ruggedized communicator from a marine officer, bringing it to his ear and taking a glance at a holographic prompt near the door.
"Come in New Caprica Land Control, this is Flight 8AX in-bound from 600 kilos out, requesting direction for orbital termination and landing."
____
For the most part the aid recieved from the FERRI Drones was relatively warmly recieved, seized by the New Caprica People's Liberation Army, and distributed to the civilian population accordingly. Food, medical supplies, and other humanitarian aid helped greatly as the New Caprica Worker's Union were hard at work restoring the city's utilities and other services.
Eventually the rolling blackouts that had plagued the district of the city since the Aschen attack had come to an end, as the New Caprica Worker's Union finished installing a brand new industrial grade Naquadah reactor in a hastily rebuilt series of shacks that bore the name. "Public Utiilities."
Inside the former Graystone HQ, Chloe McGregor was standing over a large map of Westeria City and the vicinity. Two Militia leaders, a former Tech Con Mercenary, Arren Valaj, and a retired Imperial Military officer, Commander Kalfas were standing over the maps.
The Scatterran movements had been reported by several volunteers of the New Caprica Police; highlighted as plastic soldiers that were looted from a nearby toy store. Monopoly game pieces denoted police positions, and old government positions.
"..So this alien military made contact with the Invictus? They're the same ones that have been distributing humanitarian aid?" She said, as Commander Kalfas nodded.
"It's likely the Invictus are preparing to position them against us. We know where the loyalties of the Invictus lie; and we know the Terran National Government will not allow our nation to flourish without a fight. We've seen what they do to the Shintenchi nations." Kalfas nodded, as Chloe turned to Commander Valaj.
"Report." She said, turning back to survey the map.
"Well; first minister. We're still trying to route the Russian control of the region. I've been working with Administrator Cowen of the New Caprica Police in regards to several new directives aimed at rooting out entrenched Bratva positions. Our priority howver remains that we must secure the Tech Con quarter to provide key manufacturing capabilities if we're ever forced to fight a protracted conflict with this new Military force, or the Terran National Government."
Chloe nodded slightly. "Valid point; I need you to make contact with these new forces, and see if we can be granted an audience with whomever is in charge over there. We can't let the Invictus; or the Terran National Government stain their views. Gentlemen we're barely capable of fighting the TNG if they decide to come back, we need to capitalize on the situation if we're going to ensure our long term survival." She said, turning back to the map.
"Dismissed, Gentlemen."
____
OP Michael
Following the cleanest route towards Michael, or New Caprica as the various highway signs and frontage lanes displayed, a lone Saber and three FP-3 Hornet patrol bikes distinguished themselves from what few civilian traffic there might have been by reserving a line for themselves. If their militarized, particularly alien, appearance weren't enough the presence the vehicles might inspire on those they passed by may bring everything from apprehension, to a sense of liberation. At the head of the pack, as his jetbike lined the divider of the middle lane, Sergeant Major Connor Avilius reached up to key into the squadnet, speaking into a small telebead in the MC3-E riding helmet that obscured his features.
"We're about a klick out Delta, keep on your toes. Sergeant Guillan, let's ring the doorbell." The Sergeant Major commanded, holding one hand up and motioning for a column to be formed behind him. With the Saber in the middle, the infantry motorcade was soon closing in upon an installation of some sort, more military in nature than anything the marines had seen common of "civilian" infrastructure.
From the driver's seat of the Saber, Guillan steadied the wheel with one hand before looking up at Corporal Set Baker, standing at the helmet of the 14.7mm MAW-84 rotary cannon: their insurance for unquestioningly waltzing into what could be a hostile ambush. "Keep a finger on the trigger but don't fire unless I say so. All we'll need is likely one zap of that if things get a little far beyond talking."
The Corporal gave a brief thumbs up, sliding back through the cupola and racking the electric slide of the cannon and lazily aim it off into the air: an internationally recognized symbol, at least in the Garden, of no ill intent.
____
The road ahead was flowing fairly smoothly, as what little civilian traffic made it's way in and out of New Caprica. Much of the old traffic signs were taken down. Replaced with new signs that directed traffic to the checkpoints that secured each major entrance into New Caprica.
The Apparatus convoy as it moved through the roadway was greeted by a large checkpoint into New Caprica City.
The road was blocked by a large red and white road gate, flashing red lights and a pair of New Caprica Police officers clad in Aschen woodland camouflage, black tactical vests, black balaclavas, and armbands that read 'NCP' in white letttering. There were two officers stationed at each checkpoint, five lanes in each direction. For the most part the checkpoint was running smoothly. New Caprica Police were checking documentation, asking a few questions, and allowing people to pass into the city without too much harassment. Occasionally a vehicle was directed to a secondary inspection point for a more thorough search.
Along with the small booths, stationed police officers, and gates. A single Murmillo MBT sat idling with it's turret also pointed horizontal but at a slight upward angle, perpendicular to any traffic so it was not aimed directly at the roadway.
Eventually the convoy reached the checkpoint, and the New Caprica Police officer approached the lead of the column.
He looked back to the rear, and then back to the sergeant, before he spoke up.
"Good afternoon, and welcome to New Caprica. I'd ask if you were carrying any weapons but that's a stupid question. I need to see your identification, please." He said, holding out his right hand, while his left kept his disruptor rifle securely slung over his shoulder. "What brings you to our City? How long are you planning to stay here?" He said, looking back at the column.
"If you're going to be bringing all this into the city, you'll need special permmission from Commander Valaj, and Administrator Cowen. If you can pull into secondary." He said, gesturing towards a nearby parking lot. "We'll get the ball rolling as long as your intentions aren't hostile."
____
The Sergeant Major, at the head of the column, placed both his feet on the ground off either end of the Hornet, powerful atmograv repulsors keeping the Hornet in 'idle' just a mere inches from the ground. Without uniforms, the men on the Hornets would have easily passed as criminal elements: indeed they might even still, albeit very adequately equipped ones. The Sergeant Major's C-18W carbine was strapped against the front of the Hornet, just ahead of the throttle sticks, and a Mk. 98 10mm pistol was strapped below his name placard over his left breast.
Avilius pulled up the visor of his helmet, eyeing the terran up momentarily before he drew a hand to the facemask and tore it free. "Sergeant Major Avilius, 44th Battalion. You got some of the aid pie and we’re here to meet the postcard.” He replied, cranking one throttle of the Hornet for a moment as the vehicle began to lift just slightly. As it went shifting back to the ground, Connor extended his opposite palm for a handshake. “Whoever’s in charge here needs to make some time right away; this humanitarian op is a nightmare, the eggheads in Battalion Command need to find a better way to get that aid here.”
____
The New Caprica Police officer paused for a moment, and then he regarded the insignia on the soldiers before him. The color schemes and the symbols matched those on the pallets and FERRI drones that dropped them.
The Officer nodded for a moment, and then he chimed his radio. A brief conversation in Anquietas ensued over the radio. After about five minutes of frustrated conversation, the Officer got off the radio and turned to the sergeant.
"You have permission from the First Minister, who wishes to meet with you. Proceed straight down the freeway, get off at Carbon avenue, and proceed south until you reach a large building. That's the City Hall, there is where the provisional government is housed. It's in the old Graystone Industries building; or as we like to call it. The Shard." He said, gesturing to a large building resembling a shard of crystal several miles away.
"Try not to spook the locals; you're clear to proceed." He said, stepping back. The gate opening up in front of them, as two New Caprica Police vehicles, former Tech Con Technicals pulled up with flashing lights ready to escort the Scatterrans to the Shard.
____
Avilius gave the officer a brief nod, pulling the face shield back down and then signalling to the column behind him they would be continuing on. After slowly filtering through the checkpoint the column reached a quick speed to traverse the borough and find the building in question. With the Sergeant Major at the helm, the vehicles came to a rolling stop in front of the large structure.
“Looks like this place is getting back on it’s feet.” A Lance Corporal said with a huff, opening the door of the Saber and then hopping down to her feet from the running boards. Two other marines hopped down from the back, riding in the bed immediately behind Corporal Set Baker in the gunner’s cupola.
“Same can’t be said for the rest of the city.” A Private retorted, racking the slide of his M-18A5 before clipping off the safety and saddling the weapon across his chest. “Let’s hope the Sergeant Major knows what he’s doing.” He finished, reaching back into his seat and grabbing a small computer device.
“Shove it up your ass Anderson, whole fuckin’ planet’s shot to shit.” PFC Cooper replied as he came around the truck bed to face the Shard. “Sergeant Major’s just going to set up a PERIMETER beacon and we’ll be out of this city in no time.” He said, checking his own rifle and ensuring it functioned. Joining Avilius and the three other marines on the bikes at the curb of the street, the enlisted men all fell silent for a moment as they took in the sights of the buildings around them.
Sergeant Guillan stood close to the Sergeant Major in intense, but hushed, conversation. Occasionally, one of the NCOs took a suspicious look up from the conversation to some of the nearby personnel. After Avilius made a swift, curt hand gesture the Sergeant only nodded in consent and gave a quick salute.
“Alright Charlie, stand by and don’t fuck anything up. Scenay, Lee, Cooper, you’re with the Sergeant Major.”
____
In front of the Shard, which was one of the tallest buildings in New Caprica. The Provisional Government was meeting behind some highly secure checkpoints. In front of the Shard itself, concrete redoubts and armed security watched the streets carefully. A pair of New Caprica Police officers with a bomb sniffing dog went about each vehicle that was passing through the checkpoints. Oscar company however were allowed to proceed, considering that from the initial checkpoint into the Borough to the Shard itself they were under armed escort from a pair of repurposed Tech Con technicals.
As the men disembarked from their convoy, a young blonde woman in a fairly nice white suit jacket, jeans, andd a pair of high heels was slowly making her way towards the Military convoy. To the untrained eye she appeared to be nothing more than a regular civilian, if she wasn't flanked by a pair of New Caprica Police officers, and Administrator Cowen.
The woman first made her way to the Sergeant, before extending her hand.
"So you're the men that have been providing us with much needed humanitarian aid; I'm first Minister Chloe McGregor; I'm the democratically elected representative in charge of this Provisional Government. Your aid has been much appreciated, and I anticipated that we would eventually meet the saviors behind the food." She said, gesturing them into the Building.
"We have many questions, and I am sure your men are looking for a place to put their feet up for a time. We've been meaning to make contact with the higher ranking individuals in your expedition here. I'd like you to facilitate that as soon as possible." She explained.
____
Avilius extended his hand to meet the Aschen, dwarfing her own limb as an armored one shook briefly. "Battalion Command has earmarked three PERIMETER installations for the AO, figured since this one at least has a functioning government distributing aid will be easier from here." As Avilius pried the riding helmet off his his head, the three enlisted men did the same, letting their headgear hang off the back of their heads as they inspected the city and it's people around them.
"Delta here is to facilitate the installation, before we answer any of your questions there are some of our own we have to ask ... all protocol." He replied, fishing a small tablet device from a pocket and taking the larger, matte-black computer drive from Cooper. Next, after offering the black computer case to a nearby New Caprican officer, he fished out a wrinkled piece of paper and motioned that they ought to begin walking to where ever it was the Aschen intended to parlay because Connor still had a bit more of protocol.
"This is a unit of the 44th Battalion, Marine Infantry attached to the wider Exogarden Forces of the Apparatus that operate beyond the territorial sovereignty of the Interstellar Coalition: the Local Region is thereby determined to be terras nullis signum, lands without banner, until a point as so determined by the Apparatus Observation Force, to be referenced as the LROF in discussion between the Apparatus and what civilizations are to be found here."
He repeated all these words as if he had read this document to dozens of other people before, and barely seemed to miss a beat besides stopping to take a short breath. "Suffice it to say Ms. McGregor the 44th has more questions than answers." He replied, putting the wrinkled patch of letter back into his jacket pocket. "The more power we can put back into the people of the planet, the easier it will be for these states to get back on their feet -- a thousand marines can do a lot, but that's something a little out of our scope of capabilities."
____
Chloe offered a slight, but respectful nod. "Functioning is putting it lightly. We're fortunate enough that many of the people here in positions of government capability have had experience to that extent." She said, as she started towards the Shard itself.
"As you've probably heard from the other groups you've no doubt made contact with, We're 'Aschen' When in truth that label doesn't exactly apply to us anymore." Chloe said, walking with the Sergeant Major up the steps towards the Shard.
"Everyone you see here was once a citizen of the United Aschen Empire; a banner you will see a lot more of the longer you hang around this region of space." She said, as a New Caprica Police officer opened the front doors for them.
"Here you will find refugees, political enemies, heretics, opposition, and general disgruntled citizenry whom have been disillusioned by both the Imperial Aschen Government, and the Terran National Government. We've opted to make our own path." She explained, as they approached yet another security checkpoint.
"For your safety and ours, we ask you check your weapons here. They will be returned to you once you leave the secure area of this building." She said, gesturing to a young man clad in a mismatched uniform.
____
"The Exogarden's been traipsing around this patch of space for nearly a year and a half and hasn't come across half the civilizations we're hearing whispers of. A lot of them are already gone by the time we find a terrestrial planet." Avilius replied, following the request without a sign of disagreement as he unleashed the M-18A5 from the sling across his chest, handing it off. As they saw their NCO, the other marines moved to do the same: albeit begrudgingly.
After three assault rifles, one GPMG, four carbines, five sidearms and at least a dozen hand grenades had been handed over the Avilius kept the marines moving along with their Aschen hosts. "Looks like you people are running from just about what everyone else in the Garden is running away from."
____
As each weapon was checked in the secure area, they would be securely stored in a large gun safe behind the counter. As each weapon was checked, a tag was handed to each of the Marines so they could claim their weapons as they left.
Each of them were also handed a visitors pass, and Chloe gestured them all towards a large elevator.
The elevator ride was long, towards the penthouse office suite of the Shard that towered over a burning Westeria City. It stood defiant as a symbol of Aschen enginuity, and New Caprican Defiance.
Once inside the office, a large table was laid out before them, with Hors De'ouvres and an assortment of Aschen ethnic treats. Chloe found herself at the end of the large oval shaped table, with seats for the Marines, she cleared her throat.
"Let's get to the meat of the matter, Gentlemen. You had questions, lay them on me." She said, pouring herself a glass of water.
____
Avilius and the three marines walked with the woman to her office, the Sergeant Major being the only one to take a seat. While the marines remained standing, they were close at the table as well: not out of any particular duty like the Sergeant Major with the intricacies of alien contact, but rather the hosted assortments. With the reality that these men had been eating out of foil bags, treats were never the kind to be passed up: the life of the enlisted men detailed exquisitely, even thousands of lightyears from the Garden.
“There is a protocol in the Exogarden for new civilizations to be given one of three offers.” Avilius began, leaning back to fish that tiny handheld tablet out of his pocket and lay it on the desk. The sleek computer seemed to be built around, or in modularity to, a ruggedized hard-drive of some sort: the oblique, metallic material seeming to supply the functions of what would be plastics, circuitry and alloy without any apparent inner mechanics. The lack of any visible “port” with which to even interact with whatever might be stored within another quandary as well.
Anyone less curious about the origins and mechanism of the device would only notice the rugged sword emblazoned on the face of the drive. “Scenay, I need Options A and C.” Avilius replied as he felt up and down his fatigues.
A young woman in olive drab and mud-stained exoskin took two similar devices from a rucksack of another marine, too busy sampling all he could from a plate he had requisitioned. Upon further inspection, the faux pas was that the plate was actually a ballistic insert taken from the marine’s fatigues. “And what about HUN sir?”
“Cooper, quit stuffing your gut and sit on it.” Avilius replied bluntly, taking the two drives from the Lance Corporal. As he organized them accordingly the responsible PFC, Cooper, licked his fingers of any last trace he had been eating. Giving the ballistic plate one last shake too, he slid it back into place with a quick motion and then unshouldered his rucksack. Retrieving a two-piece of set of what appeared to be a battalion-level comms device, discernable only due to the scratchy brandishing across it’s rugged metal, Cooper then proceeded to sit on top of the device with a wired receiver pressed at his ear.
“The Exogarden is too far beyond the territories of our farthest colonies, and with enemies both foreign and domestic there is no hope of establishing lasting contact with civilizations to empower a united defense of humanity.” He said, laying another device out besides the one. In appearance no different, yet instead decorated with a rudimentary olive branch. The third he laid down, bearing a shield, intricate artistry depicting it as something almost savage, uncivilized. “Without such we must make those three choices ourselves, albeit hundreds of years before we are even talking here.”
“By the time your races are ready to fight the forces aligned against humanity’s very existence we will already be gone.” Avilius finished, softly motioning to the first drive he had set down, war. “There is a rough and incomplete three million year history of warfare in the Garden, three thousand civilizations that we have discovered hundreds, thousands, millions, billions of years after their death. Our chapters are literally nine, ten pages long.” He said, stopping briefly to take a sip of water before continuing.
“But we’ve destroyed thousands more in barely several million years of evolution.”
He let the statement settle for a time, the other marines ambivalently unaware of any striking tension, before indicating to the second drive. “There is a rough and incomplete assortment of the galaxies’ knowledge, several billion years of it.” He replied, a metaphorical welcoming into the elite (and ever shrinking) fraternity of interstellar powers. Then, he finally gestured to the last.
“This, is enough knowledge to establish a permanent, sustainable civilization -- “
“That way you can hide better.” Lee interjected, also chewing rather obnoxiously at one savoury egg dish. Avilius gave the Private a curt wave, before picking up the conversation and avoiding any sort of explanation.
“Now, there are three questions.”
____
Chloe listened silently and intently to the presentation before her. Her blue eyes scanned across the various devices, the demeanor of the Sergeant and the Marines that were alongside him. Her slender fingers clasped a fried cheese curd, dipping it in a Tzatziki sauce, she then slipped it into her mouth.
Everything the Sergeant was presenting seemed to be on such a massive scale, far beyond New Caprica, far beyond the Aschen Empire.
"You're Scatterrans." Chloe said curtly, recognizing the larger frames, the insignia, everything.
"You're just not the same Scatterrans the Aschen Empire decided to get into bed with." Chloe said flatly.
She paused for several minutes to listen to the Sergeant continue, before she spoke up, perhaps playing her hand as to just how much she knew about the state of affairs in the Galaxy.
"You refer to an entity known as the Collective. At least that's what I was able to discern from Imperial Communications. A seemingly insurmountable foe." She said, looking at the folders. "So you intend to give us this knowledge to establish a permanent and sustainable civilization? We're just a city-state on some backwater planet. But, I will answer these three questions." She said, pouring herself a glass of water.
"Lay them on me."
____
“They’ve been the boogeymen your own races have been worrying about since you first put a stick on fuckin’ fire, minister.” Connor said as she finished, taking another slow drink until putting the glass down. “Now in this day and age, I don’t expect an educated woman -- or educated people like yourselves, to believe what is essentially an apocalypse theory.” He said, leaning his arms across his chest.
"But these three questions are for that.” He said, indicating to the three devices on the desk in front of him. “How long has your civilization existed?” The Sergeant Major moved forward onto his elbows, gloved hands raised to his nose. “How many of your own kind has it killed since then?”
“And finally, how many other races?”
____
Chloe frowned, before she looked around.
"You're going to have to be a little specific, But I'm going to assume you refer to Aschen Civilization as a whole." She said, taking a breath. "Unfortunately I've slept through that part of history class, but the Aschen have existed as a civilization in one form or another for the last... ten, twenty thousand years? But we've found evidence of continuity of civilization going back hundreds of thousands of years." She said, frowning realizing she was not only speaking on behalf of New Caprica, but the Aschen people as a whole.
"We've been colonizing the stars for the last fifteen thousand years, that much I know. But I won't lie to you, we've had help. A Race called the Alterans uplifted us from an industrialized society to a spacefaring one." Chloe explained.
"As for killing our own kind, you'll have to be more specific, in order for me to answer your question accurately." She said, addressing the third question next.
"As for other races, the Aschen have always been isolationist, Xenophobic if you will. We have conquered a handful of alien civilizations, but the Aschen as a people are isolationist; unless you count this planet." Chloe said, heaving a sigh.
"Our leaders in one form or another have always sought to bring this world under Aschen Control; as you can see... it hasn't exactly worked out for them."
____
Cooper pulled the receiver away from his ear, looking over his shoulder at Sergeant Major Avilius. "What do I tell HUN, sir?"
"Responsum est sibi quasi coaequatum, Cooper." He replied to the marine, who then began to relay an intricate code of words, letters and numbers through to the receiver in a hushed tone. "We had been trying for the past six centuries to bring the whole hemisphere of the galaxy under our control." He said, indicating first to the Interstellar flag on his chest before then motioning at the New Caprican imagery. "It doesn't work."
"Now, one of these is for you. Once you make a decision, your people will be held to it: as ours will be held to our end. If you want war, we'll give you war. Peace? We'll work side by side for peace." He said, letting his eyes fall onto the last one. "But no one will think lesser if you choose to hide -- it's a scary galaxy out there, sometimes that's all that can be done."
____
"The People of New Caprica want peace, but understand that we're still a young nation, expansion will be a necessary evil." Chloe replied. "The old Tech Con quarter, and a few other districts in this city will need to be brought under our control before we can consider a long lasting peace." She said.
Slowly, she reached for the device with the olive branche emblazoned upon it.
"Any decisions New Caprica makes in regards to this affair will need to be put to a vote. My word on this means little."
____
“The votes and the people matter little in the books of history, First Minister.” Avilius said, watching the woman take the device and giving a courteous bow: despite the vastness of space and time the Sergeant Major agreed with his fellow man. “What matters is such a distinguished individual to take upon the shoulders the will of those people. That is what is remembered in history.”
“Marines of the 44th battalion are in the process of establishing a Watchline across the city -- ground sensors and installations that could further stabilize the city. It is a free reign out there, and whomever brings security to this city will have their claim to it.” The Sergeant Major said, putting two hands around the cup of water in front of him. “We call it the PERIMETER, and it is part of the same system that protects many of the worlds in the Garden.”
____
Chloe held up the Quantum drive that she had chosen, inspecting it closely for a moment. "We don't have the technology to interface with this device. That technology is over there." She said, pointing out the window towards the dilapidated Tech Con Tower.
"With our own domestic security under control, we can confidently reclaim more of this city, and restore services and security." She said, standing up from her spot.
"Is there anything further we needed to discuss, or should i allow you to return to your duties?"
____
The Sergeant Major nodded calmly as he watched the woman choose, silently agreeing with her before he returned to the subject of the 44th Battalion. "Oscar company will be overseeing the pacification of this city -- Westeria, and it's annexes, which I'm assuming include the confines of New Caprica. We have no intention of maintaining or re-instating the previous political order, or facilitating the violent establishment of a new one." Avilius remarked, taking a gloved hand up to one pouch on his tactical vest and withdrawing a cylindrical device and held it from the bottom. "Battalion Command will use the Watchline to observe and facilitate rebuilding, first on this continent and then the rest of the planet."
"Rest assured though, First Minister, that as a military force we will be the authority overseeing the planet. The problems of your city, Westeria, and the planet itself is also the 44th's problem. So I should ask you, ma'am, where and what are the most prominent threats?"
____
"You'll have to coordinate that with Administrator Cowen, he's in charge of overseeing the military activities within the city." She said, gesturing to an older man in a well pressed Imperial Military uniform, with the black and white armband of the New Caprican People's Liberation Army.
"I'm in charge of coordinating all military activities here in New Caprica." He said, unraveling a large map on the table, with several neighborhoods highlighted with red.
"These districts here are crime hotspots, we have them quarentined, but we lack the forces to completely pacify the region. The most important part?" He said, circling the Tech Con District.
"Securing the district here, is our utmost priority."
