Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Westeria City

as written by Lobos

From that simple act, however, a burgeoning wave of force bloomed like the wave of a detonation, boiling into the air like an immense fractured dome of solid energy rising to meet the falling ship, solidifying as it made a silent passage into the air. Indeed the shell was growing as it rose, splaying like a grand carapace over the city to blot out the sky, the hue of night shot through with streaks of burning crimson.

Fueled by untapped reserves that were staggering immense, beyond mortal comprehension, the entity had borne this out of simple instinctual need to defend itself against what fell from the heavens.
 
as written by Verse

Elsewhere...

Time brought with it age. Age either brought decay; whittling away at things until they were no more, or brought with it growth; hardening and shaping things into a glorious new form. Renn had become a testament to the latter, having grown up the way he did. Blossoming into an adept Force User, one glance at the sky told him all he needed to know.

It had taken little effort to force pull objects down, firewell ladders, and other objects to give him the capability of reaching the nearest roof. Eyes kept fixated not only on the falling ship, but upon the surroundings as well. From a distance he could see the sudden emergence of plantlife that stretched toward the heavens; a grand protest from Valore, herself. From yet another angle, he caught sight of a growing anomaly swelling as it, too, made its journey toward the falling construct. Both would prove useful in what he had planned on doing; a little help never hurt.

Sprinting up flight after flight of stairs, he finally clambered up a ladder that gave him roof access. As he found a solid stance upon it, he fixated his gaze upon the falling object. Hands outstretched, he extended his reach as he utilized The Force to initially caress the object in an attempt to swaddle it, also attempting to halt its furious descent. He'd have to slow it, now, before he chose to redirect it out of the city. There was no way he'd be able to fully stop its fall, and he wasn't certain if the other attempts from other parties could as well.

"Come on, damn you. I can't have all these innocent lives perish. Today has already left a cruel, sorrowing, wound in the Force." He grunted out betwixt grit teeth as he worked.
 
as written by Sentry

Elsewhere...

Two pairs of eyes peered out from the blinds of a suburban home, shadowed by the massive ship above.

"What the hell," said a raspy, young voice.

"Language!" complained the other.

One pair of eyes rolled, but soon both pairs had disappeared. Within the suburban home, two very young teenagers flew down a set of spiral stairs into a cold, dark basement.

With a flick of a switch, the basement became a flash of lights and a chorus of beeps and hums. Sitting in the middle of the room was a marvel of a machine, twice as high as both kids. Loped to one end of the contraption was a revolving chair surrounded by large computer screens.

On its side, the word Genesis was engraved.

One of the teens- a skinny, blonde-headed girl with a mess of freckles - hopped into the chair as the screens lit up, coloring her face blue. Her fingers rocketed over the keyboard, custom made without a single line or symbol on it. The girl had typed so much that she'd worn down the buttons, creating small indents within each one.

"What are you gonna make?" asked her younger companion.

"I dunno! Something! Quickly! Now! Not a thing... a..." She stuttered as letters, numbers, and symbols scrolled across the screens with racecar speed. "Something to keep the ship up! We need to-"

Her pinky hit a green button to the side. The hum of the machine increased tenfold and a waft of heat streamed out from the vents, baking the room.

Outside, an immense anomaly developed beneath the ship, the same numbers and symbols that had been scrolling on the Genesis screens glitching in and out of the space. Another force developed beneath the transport, trying to lift it.

The boy peered outside of the blinds, yelling down the stairs, "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Gravity," the girl replied, wide-eyed. "I just skewed gravity!"
 
as written by Tiko

As the people of Westeria City came together in a united effort to slow - and even halt - the descent of the Alteran ship, the portal situated above the city continued to widen by the second. Half a kilometer became two... but was it fast enough. Surely those struggling to keep the wounded ship aloft would exhaust before the portal would expand enough to form a safety net between it and the city below. And yet they held as the portal expanded wider yet with no sign of abating. It raised the unnerving question of what might transpire should the portal continue to expand indefinitely, but for the time being it perhaps offered a solution to the Alteran ship.
 
as written by Verse

The aid of others, so he suspected it were, left him ample room to maneuver the hulking sky giant as its descent continued. Though massive, Renn's connection to the force was far greater a presence than this ship could ever prove to be. As the portal a distance beneath it continued to grow, Renn slowly began to manipulate the ships floundering course, giving it direction, and promptly guiding it into the gargantuan, looming, portal. Where this portal would take the monolithic titan, he knew not, but it wouldn't be his problem. Frankly, from what he'd seen across the city thus-far, he'd be doing the city a favor.

"That's it. Easy. Gently. Complete concentration..." He continued, coaching himself.

The other side of that portal was a far different cry from what had been the skyline, and atmosphere, over Westeria City. Through that gateway lay a world untouched by the likes of those from above. A paradise lost from the eyes of surface dwellers. Miles beneath the Valorean crust lay a world all its own yet undiscovered by those not of its civilizations. Eight different, massive, chambers lay beneath; an underworld of ripe, flourishing, civilizations, forests, and oceans, all their own. Luminescence brought about via chemical reactions deter the need for a sun while vegetation grows rampant, civilizations prosper, and creatures of various origins roam the vast network. And each connected via a network of long, winding, tunnels filled with water.
 
as written by barney_fife

As the group of heroes worked together to divert the massive ship away from heavily populated areas, aside from it's sheer size it offered no resistance. Completely without power, the vessel descended lifelessly towards the ground, with massive tree limbs trying to intercept it, gravity warping to redirect it, and lastly Renn's attempt to get it into the portal worked in a tandem effort, and the vessel was now sailing directly towards the portal itself.

Wherever the Tria emerged within these gigantic chambers, it continued it's descend until it came to rest on the ground. The efforts above had broken much of the ship's fall, and Orlin braced himself as the ship impacted the floor of the chamber, rocking violently and sliding through the vegetation, carving a deep gouge as it moved.

Once the Tria came to a stop Orlin pulled himself back up, groaning as he felt a warm wetness on his cheek, putting his hand on it he found blood.

"..Sitrep.." He groaned, while the Bridge crew was checking systems. "We're without power, Arcturus unit has spun to Zero, we have hull breaches and red lines along the lateral structural members. She's broke her back." The Lieutenant reported.

"We're running on Auxiliary power, and the engines are cold."

Orlin nodded, holding his head as he made a face.

"Retract the blast doors." He ordered, and was caught by suprise as light poured into the bridge, the luminescence from below. "Where are we..." He said quietly.

----

The Reverence II continued to loom in the skies above the city, moments after the Tria came, the Sojourner came, made it's pass and left, recovering the objects and the dead body. Admiral Grayson was observing the chatter between the TNG, and the Chairman. Briefly interrupted by Lunatea's voice.

"Intruders have been repelled, I'm returning to my duties."

At that moment Grayson turned to his XO. "Sitrep." He asked, while the Colonel replied. "Chairman's called an Exterminatus, we have orders to withdraw from the city, all ground forces are packing up and making for the Gravity lifts, we'll be ready to pull out in two Millicentons."

Grayson nodded. "Excellent."

---

All over Westeria City, Aschen soldiers were retreating from their initial offensive. Moving with all haste back towards the Gravity lifts leading up to the Reverence. To those on the ground perhaps someone had beaten them. But to the Aschen, something far worse had made itself abundantly clear.
 
as written by Tiko

Contrary to the expected damage to be leveled upon the city, the Reverence II had not taken into account the massive portal that had been spreading beneath it. Though that is not to say that the resulting effects did not occur, but it would not be the city of Westeria that would be reduced to a crater, nor the citizens of Westeria that would likely be killed instantly. No, the lone individual to suffer the full brunt of the shockwave's direct hit was the very same one who had gone through the portal himself. Orlin, and his ship.

The city didn't come out unscathed though. The outskirts of the city would suffer extensive damages as windows were blown out, and weaker structures crumpled, but the brunt of the shockwave struck a land far from the city and its denizens. The expected death count of millions numbered only a few hundred.

Orlin on the other hand - should he survive the shockwave pulverizing his internal organs and killing him instantly - would be subject to the massive quake caused by the shockwave being unleashed in the closed confines of the underground caverns. Rock structures were reduced to rubble as the caverns came crashing down. The flourishing underworld that Orin had found himself in was swept away in an instant.

The shockwave had effectively brought an end to the rain though, and the skies over Westeria City grew clear once more as the sun returned. That is, it would have if it wasn't being blotted out by a massive portal that was showing no sign of slowing in its rapid growth.
 
as written by Script

From the thick layer of foliage that now towered over much of Azure Heights, a figure on horseback burst into the sky. Great white wings carried the pegasus and its rider through the treetops and towards the crackling portal that hung not far overhead.

Sarael cast his eyes around with worry, hoping to spot... There!

Crackles of energy announced the arrival of a multitude of figures, appearing on the tops of skyscrapers that poked out from the trees. They were varied in their age, but many shared similar garb - uniform robes bearing an elegant 'C' insignia. Students and staff of Academia Celestia. They were not the only ones present, however. Sarael had been busy.

Since the portal in the sky had appeared, he had been working to find and communicate with as many of Westeria's spellcasters as he could. It had been hazardous - evading the Aschen had proven difficult even with his spells to keep him concealed - but through a mixture of teleportation and telepathy he'd recruited quite the contingent of arcane power.

He only hoped it would be enough.

It was a basic spell, one of stabilisation that was in fact usually a component of other spells. It was included within spells that conjured creatures, that opened portals, shifted planes or permitted teleportations. The element that prevented those spells from expanding beyond their intent, that kept the gateways and crossroads to the size that their caster desired. This would be the first step in dealing with the portal - preventing its continued expansion.

On this scale, the power required was great. That was why he had gathered so many mages. Still, they were few, but hopefully the simplicity of the spell would mean they could do what needed to be done. He had made a calculated decision that closing the portal entirely would require a lot more precision and advance preparation than could realistically be provided while chaos still reigned over the area. They would have to make do with halting it.

His own power waned. Through a combination of his efforts combating Butcher, assisting at the NPA headquarters and assembling this collective, he had little magic in reserve. That was part of the reason why he had called for Ari to carry him, rather than relying upon his flight. Running out of power whilst using it to suspend oneself above a deadly fall was not an experience worth risking.

A flash of colour caught his eye, as a great winged serpent took flight from one of the rooftops towards him. He spied three figures upon its back, and he smiled in recognition.

"I brought as many people as I could, Sarael," the young man at the front of the three called as the couatl upon which they rode drew close enough to hover beside him and Ari. "Most are from Celestia and Everia, but there are some others." Elante's expression was grim. Sarael knew that he had been searching for his husband, Aeryn, when he had called on him. He was thankful for the young mage's willingness to put his heart's wants aside for the greater good.

"Like myself, for instance," the second man noted. He was unfamiliar to Sarael. "Kastner Rosenburg," he went on, noting Sarael's questioning look. "I am one of ze foremost experts on demonology and conjuration in zhis part of ze vorld, insofar as I am aware. Mistress Dae wisely sought my expertise to assist in coordinating zhis ritual."

"Which we really should get a move on with," Scarlet, the last of the three figures riding the couatl noted. The headmistress of Celestia wore her characteristic red garb, complete with the feathered hat upon her long blonde hair, and her expression spoke of worry. No doubt for the numerous volunteer students who were arrayed amongst the mages - none so young for their presence to be truly questionable, but her responsibility nonetheless.

"Yes," Sarael agreed, "Mr Rosenburg-"

"Kastner is fine, if you vill," the man corrected.

"...Kastner, then. I want you to set out the leylines for the stabilisation matrix, using each of the gathered groups of magi as the nexus points. If necessary, we can have them moved - it must be exactly preci-"

"I am vell aware of the need for precision, Master Nasazura," Kastner noted with a smile, "Elante explained to me much of ze plan."

Sarael nodded briskly. "In that case, Scarlet and Elante, I want the both of you running coordination between the teams. Pick out a leader for each that you trust, they'll be in charge of directing that group's combined magical power to fuel the nexuses. Once Kastner has finished with the matrix, they'll need to power it." He took a deep breath, "The final touch I will perform myself. The scope of this task, I think, will require a complex weaving of cross-sourced energies. This portal isn't feeding off the power of a spellcaster, rather it's a natural phenomenon - or as natural as such a thing can be. This will be the equivalent of using wind magic to tame a natural hurricane."

He glanced down at Ari, then, the demigod in pegasus form. "That, my friend, is where you come in. You remember earlier the way I wove Tessa's binding magic into one of your arrows? I intend to do much the same here. I will draw on your source of divine power to augment the arcane energies provided by the assembled mages. The magnitude is not as important here as the weaving - think of it as a catalyst. The arcane magic spools a tiny thread of divine power within each of its weaves. In theory, this should create a small feedback loop that enhances the overall potential of the spell. In an ordinary spellcast, this augmentation wouldn't be significant, but on this scale... it could make all the difference."

There was a fairly long silence.

"Good heavens, boy," Kastner said after a moment, "Zhat's marvellous. Ze potential applications are..."

"Focus, Kastner," Scarlet reminded him, "Let's get this show on the road before this portal gets any bigger. But for the record, I am impressed, Sarael. If you ever get the urge to teach, then you let me know." She grinned.

Kastner nodded, waving his hand and muttering briefly under his breath. In the air beside the couatl, a shimmering platform of arcane power appeared. With a hasty adjustment of his robes, Kastner dismounded the serpent and alighted onto the platform. "I shall be done vis ze setup before you know it," he said, before moving off to begin his work.

Scarlet too moved to dismount, conjuring a pair of glowing wings to her back as she did so. She nodded to Sarael and Elante, before swooping off towards the first group of mages to begin coordinating them.

Elante moved to turn his couatl about, when Sarael spoke.

"When this is done, we will find Aeryn," he said. He wasn't intimately familiar with either Elante or his husband, but he knew them both - and had known of them long before that. The Vanguard did not abandon its own, whether to harm or to despair.

Elante did not vocalise a response, but he nodded appreciatively to Sarael before his mount carried him away.

Sarael took in a deep breath as his allies began their preparatory work. The portal crackled overhead ominously. He had the utmost confidence in his plan, and had solid research and evidence to support his divine weaving theory. Somehow, in the moment, that was a lot less comforting than it should have been.
 
as written by Script

The leylines were set, the nexuses were prepared and the spell hung on the precipice of completion. Sarael was mere metres away from the crackling and expanding portal overhead, and his heart fluttered in his chest with fear. If this went wrong, it could have dire consequences. There was no time to think about that now.

Taking a deep breath, he spread his hands out - giving the signal to the coordinators below who in turn, directed the circles at each nexus to begin channelling. In an instant, that power flowed into the matrix which Sarael was linked to, filling him with power. His skin crackled, and beneath him, Ari whinnied in discomfort.

Arcane symbols were traced in the air as power flowed along the leylines, glowing markings surrounding the portal across its entire breadth, a brilliant light that shone down on the city below. Words of power slipped from Sarael's lips by the dozen, each syllable vital and nary a slip of the tongue permissible. As the spell neared completion, he lowered his hand to Ari's flank.

The olympian recognised the signal, and focused his power towards Sarael. Normally, he was unable to manifest his power in such a way, but guided by Sarael's arcane magics he was able to draw on the demigod as a battery of divine energy to thread into the magic. The lines of power took on a twinkling edge, rebounding energies crackling as they intensified.

And then he cast it. Power exploded outwards from him, harmlessly washing through the air without so much as disturbing a bird. It enveloped the portal in its entirety in arcane light.

Moments later, all was still. The portal remained, but its edges took on a different glow - one of magic, restricting its growth. It was stabilised.

Faintly, he picked up the sound of cheers from the rooftops below, where the magi were assembled. Sarael let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding as Ari began to descend. He reached up to wipe a bead of sweat from his brow.

Once Ari had touched down on a rooftop, Sarael dismounted, allowing his fellow Warden (in training) to resume his humanoid form. They were soon joined by Scarlet and Elante to discuss their next move.

"What exactly did that do, anyway?" Ari asked, "I didn't understand a word of your explaining before."

"In essence," Sarael said, smiling, "It stopped the portal growing any further. We'll need to study it further before we can begin to theorise as to the best method to go about sealing it, a task which perhaps Mistress Dae could assign some of her faculty to?"

"Already on it," Scarlet waved a hand, "A team from the conjuration department will be working on it from now on. I figured that the Vanguard would have more pressing things to worry about now that it's stable."

"Indeed," Sarael said, "The city needs us, as does Aeryn."

Elante nodded appreciatively, "Scarlet, you should get some wards set up on the portal to make sure nothing comes through."

As he was spAri walked to the edge of the skyscraper and muttered a curse under his breath. "Gods, those are some big trees."

Scarlet raised an eyebrow, "No kidding. Anyone got any idea where they came from? Or just more anomalies?"

The olympian blushed. "Ah... that may have been my fault. I asked the titan from the park for help protecting the city from the falling ship. That was apparently her way of helping."

"Well," Elante shot Ari a glance, "I suppose it's not worse than what would have happened if the ship had hit, but..."

"In the end it wasn't necessary. Yeah. I figured," Ari sighed, "We can deal with the aftermath of that fuckup later though, right?"

Sarael nodded. "We should get to the ground. Our next step should be trying to figure out what happened to Aeryn, Tessa and Aiedai. What are your plans, Scarlet?"

"I'm setting my teams to search and rescue for the time being. Elante has my number if you need us again, and if signal's out, use my callstone." Scarlet lifted a hand in a salute, "Good luck out there, gentlemen and Elante."

"Ha ha," Elante rolled his eyes with a smirk, before turning to the others. "Let's move."
 
as written by Saarai

She didn't enjoy having to switch her limousine out for an armored Invictus jeep, but it made sense. Westeria City had changed since Ariadne left for Van Leugen.

She watched people in the streets loot, protect their things, and draw their lines in the sand. Invictus soldiers walked along, keeping their eyes peeled in case someone with a grudge made a move.

The Invictus were generally liked by the civilian populace. Terrorists? Criminals? Fanatic Aschen? Not so much.

"Lars? I just need one more thing from you." Ariadne said to the young man seated beside her, "What is it?" He asked, "The throne. I'm going bigger than the nicer office." She said.

"Much bigger."
 
as written by Tiko

The day following the eruption of violence that had torn through Westeria City had brought a new dawn with it. The world was changing, and the people in it needed to adapt, or be swept aside by it.

Westeria City itself, once standing as the capital of the TNG, now burned. Figuratively, and in some cases literally.

While some regions of the city remained largely unscathed, others bore the scars of the battles in the form of burned out buildings, charred streets, rubble, looting, planar anomalies, and even the addition of a massive canopy of forest that had breached the skyline at the heart of Azure Heights. The exact nature and origin of this forest within the city was a matter for much speculation, but one of which fell to the wayside of more pressing concerns.

That is to say, the evacuation of the TNG citizens within the city.

Military presence was thick, and one could scarcely look out their window and not see the military vehicles, personnel, and helicopters that now filled the city.

Areas of pointed planar instability, or that were still suffering the ill effects of the anomalies scattered across the city, had been cordoned off and were being kept contained as best as able.

All three of the space ports within the city, and the docking yards within Colcord Point, had been seized by the military. The space port within Hagan Avenue was primarily being utilized to deport Aschen citizens back to Imperial Space, but the overflow - or those without transportation options at their disposal - were being redirected to Azure Heights to make use of TNG provided transport to get off world.

The heavy military presence within Hagan Avenue, and the other space ports served as both a security to external threats, but also to internal ones. Emotions were on high, and the angry mobs of Terran citizens threatened to spill their way into Hagan Avenue. For the time being they were held at bay largely by the TNG barricades and soldiers tasked with ensuring the safe departure of the Aschen civilians still on world.

TNG citizens meanwhile were being evacuated to several points across Valore, with the brunt of them being sent by land into the Eastlands. Those with family elsewhere, or who hadn't a means of transportation overland, were being funneled through the docks and airports to their appropriate locations. The Elysian Vanguard, and the Academies Everia and Celestia had all lent their aid in seeing that the refugees would make it safely to their destinations.

The word had spread. The TNG was abandoning the Midlands, and all who chose to remain behind did so of their own volition, and with the full knowledge that they were forsaking the protection of their government.
 
as written by Tiko

Nearly a week had come and gone since the evacuation of the Westeria City had been announced. The conjestion of roads and air traffic out of the city was still heavy, but many of the residential regions of the city were turning into ghost towns. Others maintained a strong presence yet, Little Shintenchi among them, where the locals had opted to dig in and wait out the storm rather than have their lives uprooted in being shipped off to some foreign land. Many of them didn't speak the Teran tongue, and the prospect of starting over in a new place was a frightening one.

Azure Heights, Colcod Point, and New Caprica maintained the largest concentration of activity as they all served as primary evacuation hubs. Military presence remained thick throughout the streets, aiding the civilians in reaching their appropriate destinations.

The majority of the Imperial Aschen had already been safely cleared out, and Hagan Avenue stood barren and stripped of its once heavy population of Tech Con employees, but Little Tauron and New Caprica maintained heavy ethnic Aschen that had chosen to remain behind rather than return to the Empire. Among those that remained behind, many chose to evacuate with the rest of the TNG, but many more yet chose to remain within Westeria City, choosing independence over the safety promised beyond the Midlands. The racism that ran thick through the streets was no doubt a primary culprit behind the decision for many of the ethnic Aschen to remain behind.
 
as written by Azrican, glmstr, and Krysis

Riley had waited until the truck was about three, four miles outside of what he assumed to be Westeria before having them stop once again. He waited in the bed for a few moments, checking his patches and insignia, ensuring they were fit properly with the photographic image he had in his head before he pulled them off a uniform. Despite the distances involved with civilizations, and despite the different cultures, uniforms were likely the least often to change.

No matter where, men often fought the same. He smoothed one hand over his nametag, which read 'CMDR STRIGHT' before hopping down from the truck bed and standing in the driver's side window. "Alright ladies this is where I take my leave. Horakova, put the water works on and act like you've been wounded. You," He stopped, pointing one finger to the abhuman and looking down the stop-and-go traffic in front of a TAF checkpoint. "Tell 'em you find a wounded soldier on the side of your road and you're coming into town to evacuate family."

"I've got to find Hawke and Charles before they get themselves arrested. Try and find us a place to set-up shop, preferably out of the way, preferably with a basement. Sound like a plan, children?"

____

"Can do, Riley," Erika took off her jacket and used it to cover herself as she changed into the tattered uniform she looted. There were cuts in the fabric on various parts of her body, and she frowned that her clothes looked in much worse shape than the person inside them.
"Just like the Hykan beggar children, I have to make it actually look like I'm hurt," She brandished a combat knife and gently poked her finger to make sure it was still sharp.

"Now, before you guys get your panties in a bunch, I've done this before," Horakova took a deep breath and carefully dragged the knife gently across one of the patches of exposed skin, giving herself a small cut only about a milimeter deep, but once it began to bleed it was hard to tell. Then, after smearing the blood a little with a rag, she continued to do so on almost all of the cuts and tears in her uniform. By the end of it she looked like she just sumo wrestled with a grizzly bear made of barbed wire, but none of the incisions were even slightly serious.

"Ow, ow, ow! Holy shit these sting really bad, the things I do for this god damn mission," her eyes began to tear up involuntarily. She had recreated dozens of effectively papercuts all over her body, so they were extremely painful and bled a lot for how minor and harmless they were. Then, when she was done, she hopped out of the truck and faced inwards.

"Now, for the limp," THUD! She kicked her shin against the platform to climb into the truck, hopping around on another foot for a few seconds. "God damnit! Well, that worked perfectly. No broken shin, but it hurts pretty bad so a limp will be comfortable!" 1SG crawled back into the truck, wincing slightly from the papercuts and bruised shin.

"Now unless I see an actual doctor, nobody will be able to tell," Her grin was rather smug, even if her eyes were watering by themselves.

____

Lalita gaped at Erika and started to protest about the cuts until Erika told her not to worry about it. She was still a bit worried though, because of the knife if nothing else. "Should I pull out the first aid kit?"

Then Erika was getting out of the truck and Lalita thought she was just going to go use the bushes at first, so she had looked away. Then there was the THUD and Lali looked around sharply with a startled gasp. At first she thought it was Riley trying to get her attention again. Then maybe they were being shot at? Oh. No. It was just--

"You bruised your own leg. On purpose. When you are going to be sitting down and won't need a limp. Girl, you are crazy." The strange girl shook her head and put the truck in gear.

"Let's go get 'Uncle Thomas'. I'm sure he has gathered up all the 'family heirlooms' by now." She said with a wry smile.

"Could have just bandaged up the worst of the cuts and put iodine on the rest, you know. Would have been just as convincing." Lali didn't bother to mention that until they were almost to the outpost and she had to put on a dazzling smile for the troops. Her wings were folded and hidden against the seat as much as possible, and the hat she had put on shaded the worst of the visible exotic-ness, so she didn't find it hard to play human for the checkpoint, when they finally got up to it.

____

"It's more believable this way. Besides, my acting isn't the best in the world, it'll help my case if I'm actually in pain," Erika's face quickly shifted from a smile to a wincing frown as they approached the checkpoint, doing her best to look in terrible pain.

The truck rolled up to the checkpoint, and a TAG soldier stepped up to the window, only to see Horakova nearly crying and covered in blood and cuts.
"Ma'am, is that a Terran soldier in your passenger seat?"
Lalita nodded, and Erika began her routine.

"I-I-It was a massacre, they're all dead. DEAD! Oh god, I'm going to have to tell their f-f-families!" the Hykan shook visibly, on the verge of a pained bawling.

____

Lalita checked the uniform of the one asking questions first, just a quick flick to make sure it was a TAF check point before she nodded. Her smile was less dazzling and more uncomfortable by that point as she looked over at Erika before turning her attention to the soldier at her window. "She was walking along the road and I couldn't just leave her there. Besides, my Uncle Thomas is needing me to come in and get him out of the city. He's kinda old and he can't bear to leave behind Grandpappy's furniture. I hear tell the looters are something awful already! Say, where do I take miss soldier lady to get her patched up? Still the hospital, or have y'all moved the medical attention elsewhere?"

Lali opened her eyes very wide and looked just as innocent as a kitten with a ball of string as she smiled at the soldier. Mostly she was using her talent to out-talk just about anyone though, asking for help and making the soldier uncomfortable so that he would shoo them through the queue just as fast as he could. Hopefully while answering some important questions in the process.

____

"Shit, she looks bad," the TAF soldier looked around, scratched his head, and pointed about 30 degrees to the left of the road they were on.

"Just take her to the hospital, the first left you can take upon getting in to town, just take that for a few miles. There's a volunteer hospital in there. Just go, she doesn't look very good," the soldier gestured to Erika, who was seemingly hyperventilating and her tan skin getting paler by the second.

"Ma'am, what company was this?"
"22-Bravo, th-they are all fucking dead! W-we were in the midlands, they came in the hundreds... out of nowhere... they..."
"Don't worry soldier, you're safe now. Just go, you can tell us what happened later," he waved a hand at the other soldiers with rifles at the barricade.

The makeshift barrier was hauled out of the way, and Lalita took off towards Westeria. Once they were a few hundred meters past the checkpoint, Erika burst out laughing.
"Wow, I got them good! I must have really sold it, they didn't even bother," her grin was quite wide, her voice already cheerful again. "These should be totally healed by tomorrow, I can already feel the smaller ones closing. Wait, check out that house!" Erika pointed out the window, to a small house with a dilapidated satellite dish hanging off one of the corners.

"That'll be a serious score if it hasn't been ransacked."

____

"Too close to the check point. Soldiers would notice. Don't think it has a basement either. You want a high foundation in this area, so close to the sea. The water table will be really high." Lalita answered absently, automatically steering away from the areas that usually had high traffic.

"Trees would be good too, for cover for us coming and going. And an attached garage to make it easier to hide the truck would be nice. I'm assuming your devices will let Riley and the others find us no matter where we go?" The girl seemed to have a destination in mind, which turned out to be a house she had always admired, which was big and dark green with solar panels on the roof, and a driveway that was almost hidden behind the residence with trees all around shading half the small yard.

She'd park a block or so down though, where they could see the driveway and watch the other houses nearby.

____

"Yeah, they'll be able to track us down just fine," Erika grabbed her shotgun and unloaded the slugs inside, replacing them with more standard buckshot, and giving it a pump. The crunchy noise of the action moving was music to the Hykan's ears, and she ogled at the house Lalita had chosen.

"Wow this is nice, the boys will be impressed with this one," Horakova noticed what looked like crude solar panels on top of the house. Electricity? Holy shit, this will be the lap of luxury!
Ready to go inside? If someone's inside, they'll either walk away with a bag of beans or turn into swiss cheese and get buried in the backyard," the Hykan opened the truck door and slowly stepped out of it, the shotgun slung over her shoulder.

____

"Patience, Erika. No need to scare the citizens. I want to see if there are any others still on the block before we go charging in. Why don't you disinfect your cuts while we wait to see if anyone comes back? I kinda want a nap after driving all that way. After I stretch my legs at least." Lalita admonished tiredly, getting out on her side and stretching slowly.

"Maybe we can walk around in a bit, see if there are any cars in driveways." She added after yawning hugely.

____

"Good point," Erika tossed her weapon back into the car, and fished through her actual uniform's pockets for a small bottle of disinfectant and some sterile towelettes. Each cut got a few sprays of the stinging antiseptic and a gentle wipe with the disposable rags, until all of her cuts were thoroughly clean and closed enough to not bleed. She gently staggered in front of the house in question and leaned on a nearby tree, taking a peek through the windows from her vantage point and stretching her legs.

The home seemed mostly untouched, and as far as Horakova could tell it looked like nobody was home. After a few minutes of fresh air, she climbed back into the truck and changed back into her usual uniform, folding up the stolen one and putting it in a duffel bag.

"I think nobody's home, not sure about the neighbors though," Erika sighed and leaned her seat back, ready for a short nap.

____

"Mmm. I hope so. I put a bid on that house ten years ago, but some other guy outbid me. It was kinda worth it though. He showed me all his toys." Lalita gave a fond smile at memory and squashed her hat more firmly on her head.

"My turn to take a stroll." She added as Erika prepped for a nap. The keys would be left in the ignition as the strange girl wandered off, around the block entirely, to make sure there were minimal cars left in the neighborhood. She also checked to see if there was still running water, when she saw someone's hose laying in a driveway, and got herself a few swallows to quench her thirst.

Lalita already knew the basic layout of the neighborhood, and thought that this slice of suburbia would suit just fine.

And she'd get to stay in her dream house for a few nights again.

____

"Looks like we've got a place to stay," Erika grabbed a few duffel bags and started stacking them by the truck. She carried the bags two at a time to the end of the house's driveway, so it only took a few trips.

"So how are we going to get in? I don't want to break the door down, I'd prefer if that still worked."

____

Lalita just drove the truck into the sheltered driveway rather than having to tote stuff so far, and then she gave Erika a shy smile, "Well, we could look for the spare key, or I could give you a boost so you can see if the windows are locked. Or I could pick the lock, but it takes me forever."

Then she was looking at the alarm system keypad next to the door and checking to see if it was still active. With everything going on, it was unlikely that the alarm would be functional, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Unfortunately, she couldn't remember the code even if it was working, though she thought it was an important date for both herself and the man she had so briefly dated.

____

"I'll look around for spare keys," Erika proceeded to pick up flowerpots, the welcome mat, landscaping stones, anything that wasn't bolted down to see if there was a key underneath them.

"I'm not finding anything so far, think the keypad might work?"

____

"Nah, it's got a battery charge, but I don't think the communication lines are up anyway." Lalita muttered. By the time Erika had finished checking for spare keys, Lali had popped open the keypad with a boot knife and shorted out a couple of wires to run down the battery in question without setting off the alarm.

"So either one of us gets to pick a lock, or break a window. Or maybe both. I wonder if he ever got the windows replaced?" Lali mused as she moved to the nearest one and started inserting her knife into the seal between the top pane and the bottom one, to one side of where the lock would be, and wiggling it carefully. It would take her about ten minutes to convince the lock to open that way, but if Erika was at all patient, or working on something else, eventually it Would work.

____

Erika simply sat on a nearby faux landscaping rock and watched Lalita work at prying the window from the frame. After about ten minutes or so, when the pane of glass popped free, Erika climbed through the window and made a beeline to the door.

A few seconds of fumbling and turning what looked like a lock, the door opened with a click .
"Not bad, these locks are unfamiliar but not too hard to understand," the Hykan trotted outside and started hauling in the gear and luggage.

____

“Commander?”

Riley stood atop an armored truck the TAF had utilized as a roadblock for the evacuation and was staring out at the line of vehicles on their way out of the city. It weaved along the road like a great metal serpent, occasionally a few brief feet of movement seen before backing up into a line of congestion, honking horns and shouting voices. He heard a voice make the same inquiry again, and again ignored it. Riley found himself locked onto the scene, something he’d witnessed dozens of times before.

It never looked different, even if it was on another planet. It was always the same, panic. “Commander Stright?” Riley was finally able to recognize the voice of the young TAF soldier staring up at his from the asphalt. The Commander straightened himself out for a moment, a quick sigh escaping him before he finally looked down to the Private. “Commander Stright, everything okay?”

“Yes, Private. What do you need?” He replied, letting his rifle fall to his chest and dangle from the sling as he straightened out one glove. Next, he hopped down from the armored truck, landing in front of the Private and soon finding he towered over the young man, himself a tall drink of water, by several inches.

“Your uh -- your unit, Commander. Who did you say they were attached to?” The Private inquired, tilting his head inquisitively at the Commander.

“Above your pay-grade, Private.” Riley said harshly, giving the Private a quick one over, and then giving him a look like the infantryman had a lot more to be doing than quizzing a superior officer. He was fishing a cigarette out of his breast pocket before he heard a soldier shouting from up the column slightly.

“Put your weapons down and your hands in the air!”

“Hey you put your shit down, private!”

“Sergeant, that is an inadvisable command.”

Riley broke into a sprint around the armored truck, pacing himself along the shoulder of the road as he spotted three TAF lazily holding their weapons on Charles and Sergeant Hawke. “Sonuvabitch.”

The three infantrymen looked visibly perplexed; as if they were expecting a firefight to have developed already. Riley’s feet brought him sliding down the drainage canal on the side of the road in front of several burned out warehouses, and he frantically waved the three Valorans down before they could think of pulling a trigger. “Hold your god damn fire, these are my boys -- I lost track of ‘em cutting open an Aschen infantry company about eighteen miles outta’ Checkpoint Delta. Simmer down.”

The three men seemed to contemplate the statement for a moment. Just in case this suddenly spiralled out of control, Riley had a hand nonchalantly move to his chest at the magnum strapped in his holster; but as their demeanor visibly softened Riley let his hand fall, and his breath free.

“If you say so, Commander … “ The men slowly lowered their weapons, and Riley indicated to a four-door staff car he had “repossessed” from the checkpoint’s Captain.


After a few awkward minutes of waiting for an MP to stop them, Riley and the two other COLSOG operators had packed their belongings into the small 4x4 and set off from the checkpoint, Riley driving. Considering he was the only one who even remotely passed for a TAF officer, they figured it would be easiest for him to be the face that would speak with any other native personnel. By now, of course, a rumor might have begun of a “special operations” Commander putting together the remnants of his team in Westeria; Riley would prefer the truth be kept obscure as possible, but a hero for the common soldier wasn’t a bad thing either.

"So what happened to the Hyker? She take a bullet already?" Hawke inquired from the back seat, gnawing at a piece of jerky while fidgeting with the entangler array; a device that occupied the whole other seat across from the SFC.

"No, she's getting us a place to lay low. Should be just around there." Riley said, pointing at a highway exit sign for a suburb called "Rheinsdale". The lanes into the city were thoroughly empty after all.
 
as written by barney_fife

Somewhere between Valore and the Astral Gate...

The Galaxy Police patrol cruiser had spent a majority of this trip in Hyperspace, in one form or another. Detective Second Class Haruko Haruhara, special investigator for the Galaxy Police's International Affairs branch remained in stasis during most of the long trip. It wasn't until navigational computers detected that they were approaching their destination that Haruko was awakened.

The Stasis chamber hissed before the shipboard AI chimed in.

"Haruko..."

"Haruko wake up, we're nearing our destination!" The AI Shouted, while the detective shot up from her chamber, holding her head as the stasis chemicals began to clear her body. "What time is it... where are we?" She asked, looking up. "Yukinojo, what's our location?"

"One hundred thirty light years from Sol, and three point-seven million light years from Niihama; we're approaching our destination." The AI repeated. "Mission time is seventy two cycles, of which we have been in hyperspace sixty cycles." The AI reported. Haruko let out a yawn, pouring herself a cup of hot coffee from a small galley, as she slowly made her way over towards the control deck.

Plopping herself into the main control chair with an audible 'oompf' she brought up a mission screen, Taiyou characters scrolling across the display as she took a brief sip of the coffee. "Yukinojo, what is our mission parameters." She asked.

"Mission parameters; make contact with the governments and ascertain the situation with the Volarian Monarchy, Losenji Imperium, and the Shogunate of Shintenchi. From there, you are to locate and apprehend Yosho Takayama at the request of the Government of the Taiyou Empire for charges of Treason. Please note that Yosho Takayama sometimes goes by the alias Katsuhito Masaki, and is said to be armed and incredibly dangerous."

"Alright! I'll cruise around and see what I can find!" She said cheerfully, before she initiated deceleration protocols.

----

Westeria City continued to be the source of many anomalies since the departure of the Aschen Empire. And it was soon to play host to one more anomaly.

Several hundred kilometers above the skyline of Westeria City, a crackle of subspace energy formed half a kilometer south of Westeria City, The Anomalies had thrown the planned Hyperspace trajectory for a loop. Haruko was not going to exit at her planned destination.

As she pulled back the lever for hyperspace deceleration. The Blackness of space immediately washed away to the bright azure sky of Valore.

As this happened a brilliant blue flash of light erupted in the sky, and a black vortex erupted, pulling everything around it inside, trash, debris, leaves, everything was being pulled into this vortex for just a moment. A Deafening crack of thunder and the bow of the Galaxy Police Patrol cruiser jutted out, with a cloud of condensation, which was quickly pulled into the vortex.

The Cruiser finished emerging, and the vortex slammed shut behind it; contrails of condensation formed on the ship's wings as it began it's descent. The Galaxy Police cruiser was quite small, designed to sustain a one man crew on extended missions. At little over eighty-five meters in length, it was unlikely it would cause any serious damage to the city.

Haruko pulled back the deceleration lever, as alarms blared all around her. White hot plasma engulfed the ship as it cut through the sky like a brilliant lance of light. Much of the ship began to disintegrate, part of the outer plating was ripped off, left to disintegrate or fall to the ground as large plates of red hot metal. Debris went through buildings, landed on cars, but the ship itself was headed for a bombed out city block somewhere in Rheinsedale
 
as written by Azrican

Under the rising sun of a new dawn, a small convoy of five vehicles could be observed making headway through the large throughways and avenues of the city's outskirts. For Charlie squad, 1st Platoon, Oscar company, their trip into the city was uneventful and in some ways rather eerie. The ease with which the marines were able to make landfall on the planet was offset by the realization that, indeed, this planet was enduring a struggle the likes of which it may not be able to survive without immediate aid. Evidence for such was widely seen by the men of 1st Platoon as they neared some of the most heavily damaged municipalities of the city: just to run off a list of things, as Staff Sergeant Murdoch Greer was often to do while driving, running, potable water seemed a hard thing to come by. Another issue would be the one of food, medical and sanitary equipment, it was a long list already.

And Greer had just been on the planet three days.

"Reminds me of the Outer Garden a bit.” Corporal Watson said from the passenger’s seat, hands draped over the receiver of the MAW-18 machinegun that hung out the window. He let his hand glide through the air as the convoy rolled on, bringing it back and staring at his palm as if he might be able to discern anything different. “Without the New World, at least.”

“I think they might have something worse than the New World out here.” Private Holland said from the back seat, peeking into the front compartment as the convoy passed a shattered, leaning apartment block. Debris and rubble gathered at a large gash in the structure’s western side. As the marines all silently followed the skeleton of war with their eyes, Greer punched the pedal and the Saber lurched slightly as the turbine-engine roared to life.

“Alright enough tourism marines, break out the map.” Greer said, patting an empty space on the dash for tablet devices. The holographic map projected of the city twinkled with three main objectives, the primary missions what was becoming known as Operation MARCO, the exploration of Valore.

Pointing at one particular shimmering dot, Watson handed him a transceiver phone from the center console’s NUGS uplink. Holding the talk button, the radio crackled loudly before the marines in the Saber were connected to the platoon-wide comms. “Alright 1st Platoon, let’s get this dog and pony show on the way. Guillan, you and the Delta boys ready?” He inquired.

The response was almost instantaneous, as the Sergeant driving the Saber directly behind him pulled the transceiver to his mouth. “Loud and clear Staff Sargn’t.”

“Alright, you take your squad and handle these two OPs. We’ve got reports that the locals around Objective Point Michael, some shit stain called New Caprica, might be a little on the aggressive side. Don’t waste too much of my ammo.” Greer said, pulling the wheel left as they made a turn and the convoy began to branch into three different directions. “I’ll take Charlie and we’ll scout Omaha and Kilo OPs, looks like a police station and a government building.”
 
as written by Tiko

The streets of the city were becoming barren and desolate with the passing of the days. The brunt of the evacuees were well on their way to destinations far from the Midlands, and many a building stood empty and abandoned. The military presence would soon be gone as well, as the few stragglers were packing up to move out.

Despite the eerie vacancy that had swept through much of the city, there was life within it yet. A heartbeat that would not be snuffed out.

Populations of citizens who had refused to abandon their homes had begun to come together in pursuit of safety within numbers. New Caprica maintained a large ethnic Aschen population, and many of the ethnic Shintenchi had not been budged from their homes within Little Shintenchi. Other regions too held pockets of populations, while some individuals chose the independence of the barren neighborhoods.

The instinct to group together was not an unfounded one though, as all variety of strange creatures - both native and alien - crawled the streets of the abandoned districts. Some scrapped among each other, while others lurked in the shadows to prey on the unwary. Others yet seemed to keep to themselves, watchful and with intents unknown.
 
as written by Azrican

As the sun burned over the broken landscapes and buildings of Westeria city, inky fingers of smoke and flame licked towards the sky from a cavernous hole dug into an empty lot at the end of a large cul-de-sac: the empty and battle-scarred buildings of the city looking down upon the marines and the four vehicles the formed a small checkpoint in front of their little operation. The marines of 3rd platoon had spent the first few hours of their patrol in the city shovelling out a part of the lot for what the Apparatus called “destructive disarmament”.

Private Francisco Engel walked to the bed of the AMV-85, an 8-ton 6-wheeled truck loaded to the brim with weaponry of all sorts: frankly, anything that looked remotely scary the marines had found off the dead, in caches, or simply stuffed in homes and left to rot. He yanked down the bed-guard, metal creaking with a groan as a young Ensign joined Engel at the back of the truck.

“Alright marines, this is what we’ve got from 4th platoon so far -- Cap’n’s back at the CP getting some more loaded. Charlie squad, how’s our forge doin’?” The Ensign hollered, giving Engel a boost up into the truck where he began collecting the weapons into a neat, sorted pile on the bed guard.

“We’re cookin’ with fire, Elrond!” Staff Sergeant Ranko called out from a dusty lawn chair, flipping a cylindrical can of accelerant in his hand as the riflemen of Charlie squad tossed pieces of debris, wood and anything else they can find to feed the growing fire just a meter or two away. The three dozen other marines busied themselves in between gathering fuel, cordoning off their section of the street with their vehicles and organizing the three or four hundred pounds of armaments they had stuffed in the back of the 8-ton.

“Alright 3rd platoon, let’s have us a cook out! SFC Halabi, where the fuck is your DM?” Ensign Elrond yelled again, and waited as the Bimari NCO jumped down from the cab of the 8-ton. He quickly sprinted to a small foxhole dug on the lot next to the fire, and smack a young Specialist in the back of the head before pointing at their CO.

Specialist Avery Johns threw a joint onto the ground beside him and sprang up from the foxhole, one hand grasping at the strap of his helmet as the other carried his EMR-10 by the foreguard. Ensign Elrond gave the young Azrican a quick motion, beckoning him over and then pointing over his shoulder to a billboard at the end of the street corner. While the Specialist followed with his eyes, he made a few short coughs and studied his perch. “Get your ass up there and keep us apprised on the surroundings. Keep the party under control up there too, Johnsie … “

The Specialist went trotting off as he fished out a pack of cigarettes from his tactic vest, as Private Engel jumped down from the bed of the 8-ton with three awkwardly shaped weapons in his hand. “Fuck’s sake Ensign, you ever seen any pieces like these?”

“Can’t say I have, Private.” He replied, fishing through his vest for his own pack of cigarettes and then fumbling for a lighter. “Just break ‘em down as much as you can ‘nd toss ‘em in the fire.”

The Private gave a short nod and trotted off, another marine following behind him with a bundle of the alien weapons. The freight was a menagerie of weaponry, some from the native caches and stockpiles they had found and many others not, though those were mostly found on the dead. As the Ensign pulled a deep breath from his cigarette a Master Sergeant joined him by the 8-ton, carrying a wireless receiver in one hand.

“Captain Loic’s organizing a second run at the CP, it’ll be here in an hour or two. Now we just play the sit-and-wait game.” Deor Gutstafr was an old war-buddy of Elrond’s, and partly one of the reason they had both ended up in the Exogarden. The two friends exchanged a short chuckle before Elrond tossed his cigarette butt to the ground.

“I’d rather be burning shit than handin’ out nutra-paks.” He responded with an indignant sigh, laying his hands onto the AC-9m carbine strung across his chest. The Master Sergeant leaned against the 8-ton as he tinkered with a wrinkled pack of cigarettes.

“Eh give it an hour or two and the natives will probably think it’s a barbeque.” Gutstafr said with a curt nod up the street, where several Terrans were seen watching the marines from the other side of the cordon with a curious eye. “There were any markets open I’d say get a couple of hogs and we could.”

“I didn’t get drafted into the Exogarden to make a Corps food truck, Deor.” Elrond returned with a quick chuckle.
 
as written by Tiko

High over the city the massive portal that had blanketed the sky and blotted out the sun during the battle with the Aschen several weeks ago still remained. Though the Elysian Vanguard has managed to stablize it from continuing to grow unchecked, it still covered miles of distance. As of yet nothing had emerged from it, but today a lone arrival appeared from within the spacial anomaly. Something small enough to go unnoticed by those tasked with observing the portal.

The small insect was scarcely larger than a house fly and it buzzed its wings a few times before darting off to disappear into the massive canopy of trees below that were growing up out of the center of the city.
 
as written by Azrian

2nd Medical Service Section Station Charlie, 44th Battalion BSG: Westeria City, Operation Green Hope

In the dilapidated structure of a shelled apartment complex, marines hefted boxes and containers of medical and food supplies from AMV-85 transports in the back parking lot. With the gaping maw of a gravitic and spatial anomaly overshadowing them, Oscar company had overseen the requisitioning and fortification of several sites to begin the preliminary ‘stabilization and pacification’ of the city. With Whiskey company, 44th providing armed security and infantry operations, Oscar had fallen into the calm yet eerie period of humanitarian operations.

Staff Sergeant Luther Corney wiped a handheld device over one of the WARPAC containers, the tiny magnetic lock ensuring that the device couldn’t be opened if it happened to have been looted on it’s way to Westeria making a soft beep and then pulsing green. After that the NCO gave a signal to the marine corpsman standing at the checkpoint in the hallway of the first floor. The medical staff quickly hauled it off from the grav-dolly, then opened the chain-link fence with a mechanical hiss as he brought it out to the central courtyard of the apartment bloc.

Here, a long line of disheveled and distraught citizens of Westeria had been given entrance after a brief security inspection: anyone armed was promptly forced to relinquish their equipment, or if they refused disarmed and drawn under armed escort into the sections of the complex that had been reserved exclusively for the 44th. It might be a point of contention that any whom had been witnessed being taken into the marine’s custody had not yet been released, though in respect not many whom had arrived looking for food, water or medical attention had been forced to wait very long.

The most cherished of items to be handed out had been medical supplies and antibacterial/infection materials: for those who requested, a complimentary HAM radio and transceiver device had been offered to streamline the citizen’s access to these possibly lifesaving resources. Food and water, in the form of algae-based aquaskins and particularly unsavory nutrient bars, were some of the supplies most available for relief and humanitarian efforts.

It was only due to the offsetting nature of 2nd platoon, India (Bravo) 2 that a riot had not broken out at the apartment blocks or, what the marines were all planning for, a group stopping to try and extort the much needed supplies. The day was still young, however, and 2nd platoon was prepared for any eventuality.

Staff Sergeant Corney tucked the handheld back into his tactical vest, hearing the corpsman usher him up to the checkpoint from the central courtyard. “SSG, got some boys from O 2-3 here for ya’.” The Corpsman replied, hitching a thumb at two marines standing on the other side of the chain-link fence, their backs to a single file line of natives waiting for a package of rudimentary health products, a parcel of freeze-dried food and clean clothing in the form of starchy pants and trousers.

“Staff Sergeant Lister, was wondering when you’d show up for the pity party.” Conrey said, walking through the chain-link partition and briefly shaking hands with the Charlie squad NCO.

“Had to clear a lane for the Whiskey boys bringing in another shipment of WARPACs, Hotel’s setting up on the outskirts for the Syndicate drop in AO North.” Wulfgar replied, laying his elbows over the upper receiver and handguard of the M-18 rifle slung across his chest.

“Good good, FSG Lochlainn’s up in the blocks overseeing the humanitarian efforts.” Conrey replied, turning back to the checkpoint and giving the corpsman a thumbs up as several marines pulled a grav-dolly full of blankets and sanitation equipment through the checkpoint. “We’ve gone through about two thirds of our supplies, had about six hundred filter through since we opened the gates at 0600.”

“Whiskey company will be in the rear by sundown, new drop-off should be here sooner than that though. With 2nd company on stand-by we’ll get some pull some boys from 3rd and 4th platoon to shore up the guns here … any problems with the natives?” Wulfgar said, following Conrey as he lead them ahead of the long lines the natives had been partitioned into, each guarded by two marines who stalked up and down the bars ensuring they waited patiently.

“Can’t say too much. We’ve pulled out a couple trying to sneak in armed, they’re with Ensign Kobe and Oscar Actual … haven’t heard much about what’s goin’ on up there though. Don’t think I want to.” He said, stopping momentarily as a marine caught the attention of the Staff Sergeant and brought a tablet up to him.

“We’re running low on sugar and metabolic supplements, also baby formulae and dehydrated milk SSG.” Specialist Vincent Matos said, pointing at several digital relays connected with automated systems built in to the WARPAC containers. Conrey gave a huff and took the tablet from the marine, pulling the stylus from the device and then tapping it on the soft glass overlay.

“ … Start doling it out only to parents with their children, no one gets to just walk out of this place with new merchandise understand? We’re giving these out on good faith, not sustaining a black market.” He said, looking down to the line the marine had come from which was mostly populated with older Terrans with their young close by their side. “Make sure they get sanitary equipment and blankets as well. Those we don’t need to worry too much about.”

Specialist Matos took the tablet back when it was handed to him, tucking the device under his arm and promptly saluting. “Yessir.”

“You think some of these natives are trying to sell this stuff at a scalp?” Wulfgar said under his breath, following closely behind his counter-part as they crossed the main courtyard to where the marines of Oscar company had established a working headquarters.

“Just natural, Lister -- you were at Matke and Pogonamor, you know what stupid shit people do when the lights go off.” He replied, tearing the patch from his tactical vest and holding it up to the young Private on duty manning the checkpoint into the hallway.

“You’re clear SSG Conrey, Lister.”

Conrey pushed open the wrought fence with a gloved hand, the other cradling the AC-9m carbine as he ushered the NCO into the structure with him. Private Fabricio da Silva returned to reading a magazine picked up from an abandoned kiosk somewhere in the city, licking at his thumb to move the page when he was done reading.

When a marine launched himself against the fence and made a grumbling noise, it caused Fabricio to jump out from the school chair he had requisitioned to aid him in his duties, letting out a short curse that caused a few of the natives to, instinctively, crouch and huddle before glaring at the two marines.

“What the fuck Walla -- who the hell let you guys near the civvies?” Fabricio replied, slamming his magazine face down on the shifty wooden desk before giving a curt apology to the Terrans in Common. Whether they understood him or not wasn’t really his concern, and he promptly punched the fence to force PFC Walla back off the chain-link separation. He howled quickly and clutched at his nose, stifling a few laughs as he massaged at the bridge of his snout.

“Ah good punch there you guacho, you might just be able to win a fist fight with a starving Terran now.” Walla remarked, pulling at the strap of his M-18 before leaning back on the fence and gripping at the links with both hands. “You guys about to switch off for duty yet? Coleman and I were gonna’ go lootin’ a mall down the road. Maybe find some skin-mags!”

“Not for another thirty, Walla. And hey, don’t be talkin’ about how you’re gonna’ go lootin’ their city in front of the Terrans … seems kinda’ inconsiderate.” Fabricio said, not even dignifying the PFC with a sour look as he settled back into his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk. He returned to his magazine, particularly interested in the sporting section as Walla only returned with an obnoxious raspberry, more than a few flecks of spittle making it onto Fabricio's desk.

"Hey anything really good's already been long gone ... you're just a fuckin' party pooper." Walla remarked, rattling the fence again until Fabricio shouted a string of curses in Vendragan and sent his boot crushing against Walla's hand.

"If you're gonna' go piss someone off find Wright and Raby, they're watchin' the three-line. I don't wanna' put up with your stupid shit." Fabricio demanded, his demeanor softening from anger to bemusement as Walla rubbed at a pained finger. The PFC used his one good hand to flip da Salva the bird, muttering something about pussies and savages until he walked down away from the checkpoint and into the courtyard.
 
as written by barney_fife

1st Supply Detatchment, New Caprica People's Army; En-Route to Charlie Station

From the walls of New Caprica, to the dilapidated apartment complex that was Charlie station, the New Caprican People's Liberation Army was tasked to make contact with the arriving Exogarden forces that had set up shop in what appeared to be a shelled out and dilapidated apartment complex.

Four water tanker trucks, and thirteen armored former Tech Con fighting vehicles made their way through the bombed out streets of Westeria City, the street for the most part appeared relatively clear, of course, it was a lot better than the gang of looters that attempted to make a run for the water trucks. New Caprica was likely the only district of the city with a still functioning water treatment plant, that being the case, the New Capricans saw it in their best interest to keep the plant secure at all costs.

"Two-hundred and eight thousand JPs for trade and barter with the aliens." Sergeant Siler said as he checked the manifest, adjusting his glasses and the armband fitted around his urban camouflage BDU Jacket. "Requisitoning food supplies, seeds, and medical supplies as top priority, followed by fuel. Gods damnit El-tee we don't even know if these guys have Tylium, and that's the only thing these trucks will run on." Siler protested, tossing the manifest to Lieutenant Dualla, the dark skinned Gemonese took the manifest and let her light amber eyes move over the text.

"Tylium ore, we have a refinery if push comes to shove." She said, handing back the manifest to the Sergeant.

The driver promptly turned back, and spoke up. "El-tee, we're approaching the station!" He called out, and Dualla eased over the back seat, her eyes watching the heavily armed Marines, the long line of people, people fighting for what meager supplies these people could dole out.

"Two hundred thousand JPs of water." She said to herself.

The people were turning to see the trucks, the Tech Con logos had been painted over with the emblem of the New Caprican Militia, some of them jeered, others turned. It was obvious the convoy wasn't carrying anything useful to them. At least, it was nothing that anyone wanted to run through a hail of disruptor fire to reach.

They all came to a stop in front of Charlie Station, brakes squealed, and Lieutenant Dualla stepped from the lead truck, manifest tucked under her arm. She was here for one purpose, formal contact with this alien military on behalf of the First Minister.

She saw the first marine, and in being in full uniform, or what consisted of Aschen urban camouflage BDUs, a black armband with white anquietas text, and the Imperial Aschen insignia for Lieutenant.

"I come on behalf of the New Caprican People's Militia, I request a word with your commanding officer, We come bearing gifts." She said, gesturing to the trucks, a New Caprican soldier opening a small valve on one of them, pouring the liquid into a cup, and then downing it.

"Courtesy of the first minister." She said, handing the Marine a water bottle. "Two Hundred Thousand JPs of Water."
 
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