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//This RP will be referenced, however the overall story / direction I'm going with the SGM| has changed. We had great times, great stories, and fantastic adventures along the way. For the players who used to interact with us on a regular basis, who may wish to continue relations now, please reference this post: SGM| Comm Channel

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The Annals of Tereus Mitchell
Deaths| RP - Pre-SGM|
SMA| Sirius Military Assets Organization
Acquiring a Nephilim - Circa 4.85

The Annals of Tereus Mitchell officially begins with the launch of The Gallia, circa C.E. 2200, the sixth Alliance sleeper ship to launch from the origin star system of Sol, unbeknownst to what would eventually become the “Five Houses” of the Sirius system, and shrouded in mystery even to what would become the Kingdom of Gallia. The Sol based shadow organization of the “Grey Men” could only be described as an exponentially acumination of long forgotten secret societies of ages far expired. the Grey Men were intricately tied into all levels of society, politics, and economy in the Sol system, and despite the massive profits and technological advancements being reaped from the Alliance – Coalition conflict, it was clear that the hellion it had created in the Coalition was ungoverned and reaching a critical mass, in the form of complete and unwavering genocide.

Thus the six sleeper ships were constructed through influential vote by the Alliance, and The Gallia was to be the means to establishing an unrivaled, unequivocal, Grey Men controlled society, far from the chaos in the Sol system. The Grey Men laid their trap, embedding the navigational subroutines into the Liberty, Bretonia, Kusari, Rheinland, and Hispania, ensuring that these sleeper ships would slowly and exponentially be thrown off course, away from the resource rich sector that would eventually become the beating heart of Kingdom of Gallia.

The brightest and youngest offspring of the Grey Men had been ensured safe passage on this space faring conquest, provided with the technology, tools, knowledge, and resources to start a new, ensuring the legacy of the Grey Men would survive on. The other sleeper ships had been methodically undermined through careful psychological and physiological variety of the chosen inhabitants, the sabotaging subroutines in the navigation systems, and tertiary plans to impede the rebuilding progress of the other ships upon arrival. The only caveat to this perfect plan was the lust for power and greed of the Grey Men sleepers embedded on The Gallia itself…

In 668 A.S. the Sirius Grey Men through a network of proxy organizations, corporations, and masterful manipulation of the Kingdom of Gallia, acquired an exclusive government sanctioned and subsidized contract revolving around genetic research and re-engineering. The program was dubbed Project Destiny with an official research purpose to combat genetic anomalies from a direct result of encouraged breeding to increase population and military might, causing a strained supply of genetic diversity. Secondary objectives of research included genetic manipulation of RNA and DNA to eliminate targeted predisposition of diseases that manifested over centuries of biological and chemical mutations within the Sirius system, as well as contaminants that had survived and evolved over the long journey from the Sol system.

This was all an intricately crafted deception as the true purpose of Project Destiny was to create genetically superior, completely loyal, programmable beings that could be used for a plethora of tasks, specifically in a military capacity. The Kingdom of Gallia while basking in the technological advances, economic stability, and relative tranquility it had become accustomed to due to the secluded sector of colonization as well as a strict closed border policy became increasingly aware of one unavoidable and disastrous flaw: An overwhelming and ever increasing sense of entitlement in its newer generations.

Yes, the peaceful, luxurious, and worry free life that seclusion and secrecy afforded the Kingdom of Gallia had bred, albeit unintentionally, self-entitled, petty, and lackadaisical offspring, which seemed to double every generation. Military service and the honor and duty that came with it was bought or exchanged for favors amongst nobles and the wealthy, and an honest hard day’s work was an antiquated notion, reserved for only the most unfortunate of peasants. The typical day of an affluent Gallian at this point in time was spent partying with friends, flaunting and acquiring more lavish commodities, and for the audacious getting into fights with the lower classes in less reputable establishments.

Project Destiny was admittedly lack-luster, with no overwhelming advancements or breakthroughs until the appointment of Count Cyprien Dimanche around 700 A.S. at which point major advancements were made specifically in accelerated aging of the specimens, indifferently referred to as “tanks” due to the in vitro method of growth, and successful sleep learning of these early specimens. From 700 A.S. until 720 A.S. research and development proceeded exponentially until an overly engaged laboratory assistants curiosity caused a fatal incident which lead to a facility revolt around the time that the Council officially emerged. This revolt was quickly contained by the facility’s security forces, however all first generation tanks were eliminated, and only 72% of the initial genetic material was retained from the batches 1875 to 2342.

Despite this unfortunate set back and the loss of 28% of viable tank creation DNA, the turmoil which manifested in the form of The Council within the Kingdom of Gallia in 720 A.S. expedited the need for a superior and controllable militarized force that could not be influenced or swayed by the liberal taint emerging all over Gallia. Rushed production, training, and the unintended side effect of a genetically superior being severely lacking in emotional or moral programming led to massacres, insubordination, and random violent over reactions, which only spurned the notion that the Kingdom of Gallia was anything but power hungry, antiquated, monarchs clinging onto long dead notions of Sol societal history.

The glib result was that batches 2343 to 2485 were advancement in what not to do, or rather, what was undesirable in a mass produced army of super soldiers. Batches 2486 – 2641 were marginally superior to their predecessors however three major detriments plagued Project Destiny at this point. First, by this point in time many of the original researchers, including Count Cyprien himself, were well beyond their prime with the average lab assistant aging between fifty and fifty-five.

Second, with an ever dwindling supply of source DNA, newer batches had higher rates of failure for various reasons including but not limited to insanity (in 45% of specimens created in batches 2486-2641), spontaneous death in 15% of specimens in varying stages of maturity (This was curbed after batch 2642, but only by 3%, causes for spontaneous death are still unknown), and disfigurement or beings of unfit quality in 5% of the remaining population.

Third, in the remaining 30% of available candidates about half became uncontrollable and psychotic midway through training, and another 5% exuded split personalities, often lucid and mature one moment, then childish and uncontrolled the next. The remaining 10% were trainable however they aged at 1/10th the rate of the average Gallian, raising concerns of militarized pet project that would far outlast their creators.

Project Destiny would hit a miracle advancement beginning in Batch 2642, specifically in sub lot Delta, revision 2. An unknown lab assistant was working on correcting unfavorable traits within the genetic markers of mental instability and through a freak accident, simultaneously corrected the issues of mental instability, slightly corrected the aging process, and laid genetic ground work for accelerated cell growth and regeneration, without the side effect of cell degradation.

Through continued refinement the researchers of Project Destiny, starting in 789 A.S. were able to finally provide the Kingdom of Gallia, and the Sirius Grey Men, the results they desired. Mass production of Batch 2542 - R2 began in the summer months of 789 A.S. and were allocated into five sub-types:

1. Alpha (Summer – 789 A.S.): Focused development of this batch was for sleepers to be dispersed into the five other houses within socio-economical and socio-political roles.
2. Beta (Fall – 792 A.S.): Focused development of this batch was purely to fill a generalized military need. Basic combat training and logistics, this batch was the most mass produced of all batches as attrition rate was expected to be above 60%.
3. Charlie (Spring – 793 A.S.): Focused development of this batch was social and psycho-social engagements. Training afforded this batch of specimens was similar to a political officer or NOC agent, where charisma, social, and diplomatic negotiation skills were necessary. Many Charlie batch specimens post internal schism would later become independent intelligence assets.
4. Delta (Winter – 794 A.S.): Focused development of this batch was on special warfare development, specifically for long-term covert, overt, clandestine, and deniable operations within the five other houses of Sirius. This batch of specimens was subjected to higher training standards and curriculum, as well as a constant supplemental genetic modification mixed in with their food supplies. Terrorism, subterfuge, assassinations, and manipulation through enemy impersonation were rumored to have been carried out by this batch of specimens on a consistent basis.
5. Echo (Spring – 795 A.S.): Focused development of this batch was on multi-specialty roles and more technically specific training. Some of the most brilliant engineers, neural-net hackers, and analysts came from this batch.

Through continual staged development based upon the five subtypes of specimens until 820 A.S. the Kingdom of Gallia in conjunction with the Council of the Sirius Grey Men amassed their pawns and unleashed them upon the other houses of Sirius in increasingly successful campaigns aimed at destabilizing sectors and inter-house relations as a pre-emptive means to invasion. The best laid plans however always seem to find a way of deviating…as was the case in 818 A.S.

By 816 A.S. the Sirius Grey Men had deployed a sizeable contingent of specimens to House space within the Sirius system. Most notably was a special operations battle group that was under command of General Alexandre Guillame Grey. While General Grey was officially the head of all specimens operating in and around the five houses of Sirius, Colonel Tereus Mitchell was acting as his operational liaison and for all intents and purposes was autonomously running insurgency operations within this time period.

Colonel Tereus Mitchell and his associates were well known for being highly effective and efficient at their assignments, and for thinking outside the box. One notable incident from this time period was the decimation of Liberty forces and infrastructure in the New York system through proxy of a Phantom - Corsair fleet. This fleet of terrorists and enemies of the state to Liberty decimated lawful and corporate assets, as well as complete trade lane disruption around Planet Manhattan for a day, by jumping in via California. Fort Bush was completely taken by surprise and all QRF squadrons it deployed were almost simultaneously destroyed. The Liberty Naval forces that were not deployed the frontlines, or, pulling guard duty along Liberty’s borders, were no match for the Phantom – Corsair fleet, and were destroyed or severely crippled. The Phantom – Corsair fleet succeeded in its agreed upon task leaving the citizens of Liberty in complete terror, shaken by the enlightening notion that they were not safe even in their own core system.

After their assignment in Liberty was completed Tereus Mitchell and his cohorts could be found almost anywhere. There were tales by both Bretonian and Kusari forces of red-eyed demons, referred to as Helghast or Jin-roh, depending on which side told the tale, entering in the fray of a battle and destroying one or both sides before disappearing almost as quickly as they arrived. Most of these engagements seemed to occur in and around the contested system of Leeds, as well as the Tau’s. There were also rumors of shadowy deals brokered with The Cartel for illegal weapons and remote resupply of their mobile fleet, the unproven funding of a short lived shell company going by the name of Zoner Ore Extraction, reconnaissance missions for critical war effort resupply under a shell PMC corporation named Sirius Military Assets, and an incident involving a former Director of Kishiro Industries leading to experimental and illegal technology acquisition.

It seemed that everywhere and anywhere you could expect to run into Tereus Mitchell and his team, and just as likely that you could be the target of their amusement. Friend, Foe, or not even a blip on their scanners, during this time period no one was one hundred percent sure what Mitchell’s end game was. There are several other unsubstantiated accusations that have been levied against Mitchell and his entourage. They have been said to have had dealings with Director Seito of DXI, an ally within the highest echelon of the LSF granting them safe passage through a rumored system of Alaska, ties to the Order, being Order under the IFF of Iron Legion, acquiring a Zoner Dreadnaught against the wishes of the Zoner ruling factions, and staging counter-insurgency operations against a Captain Barnes, codename Waratah.

Needless to say Colonel Mitchell and his rag tag band of merry, drunken, and purely psychotic misfits seemed to be living the high life, then suddenly and inexplicably disappeared from off the Sirius Neural Net Grid completely. Rumor has it that around 820 A.S. internal political over flow culminated into an explosive, bloody, and drawn out conflict within the Kingdom of Gallia itself. Another rumor is that Tereus Mitchell was sent on a suicide mission by a ruling monarch of the Kingdom of Gallia for defamation, revolving around a remark quoted as:

“…I don’t care what that *expletive, expletive, expletive * Princess Emperor Queen *Redacted* wants because they’re *expletive, expletive, expletive *. Furthermore, I don’t care what gender fluid identity they associate with, I’m sure they have a ween…”

What is known from recovered archival data is that Tereus Mitchell and his group disappeared from the Sirius System around the same time the Zoners became more isolationist and paranoid, and Gallia was invading through Bretonian space.

Prelude: 820 A.S. – Location: Tau 31, Sector D2
Big Mouth, Bigger Consequences

The Errant Venture was casually adrift in Sector D2 of the Tau 31 System accompanied by a large contingent of his battle group. Anyone who had the luxury of taking advantage of the view on the dorsal recreational area would see squadrons of snub craft, gunboats, and The Salvation and Repentance trailing fifteen hundred meters to port and starboard aft. It was a nice change of pace from the hit and run tactics that Colonel Tereus Mitchell had been enacting in his destabilization campaign for the past thirty-six weeks against Kusari and Bretonian forces in and around the Tau AO.

Tereus was relaxing in his captain’s quarters on the command deck of the The Errant Venture, enjoying a chilled glass of Kusarian Sake, compliments of Director Hisoka Masanori of Kishiro Industries, and doing routine maintenance on his stealth carbine. It was a disconcerting sight to the uninitiated due to the emotionless, methodical, eerily intimate methodology that Tereus undertook when dealing with routine weapon maintenance. That and only he could find mindless enjoyment in something so mundane, to the point that even the other Deltas in his command staff didn’t understand it fully.

Tiberius and Murdock had headed back to the Repentance after their staff meeting, Daugherty and Zurie were off somewhere initiating the fresh batch of Deltas they had been sent on the last transport resupply, and Marshall was off working out in the gym, undoubtedly in a high gravity environment. It was expected though, in the void of down time between destabilization campaigns it was nice to let your mind focus, or not focus, on menial and trivial tasks. The only downside was no matter how much anyone tried, sleep was almost never an option, mostly due to the residual adrenaline left coursing through your veins.

General Grey wasn’t due back from Gallic space for another forty-eight hours, and all eligible crew were on stand down. Morale was never a real issue for tanks, mainly because it had been genetically programmed into them. They obeyed, obliterated, and then went about their business. Still, sleep would be nice. Tereus took another sip from his glass, pausing a moment to let the perfectly chilled cold glass stimulate his lips, enjoying the cool flow of the Kusari spirit over his taste buds. It was a tantalizing tease to his taste buds as the flavors, purity, and cool sensation made a shift from cool to warm as it hit his gut.

“Ah, such a welcome change over drinking hydrating fluids through the helmet of a power suit”, thought Tereus, as he set the chaser back down on his desk. The comm. panel on his desk beeped just as he pushed the last pin back into place on the receiver of his stealth carbine.

“And…just…like…that…my time off is ruined…”thought Tereus as he reached over and keyed the comm. panel.

“Tereus here, what do you need lieutenant? This is my down time, so this better be important,” Tereus depressed the comm. and grinned. “Never hurts to scare the new blood.” Tereus thought to himself.

There was a noticeable pause in response, undoubtedly the fresh Echo was formulating a response in their mind, then came their reply, “Colonel. I have an incoming critical priority communiqué for you from General Grey…can I patch it through”?

The Echo lieutenant was clearly nervous, and Tereus had his fun.

“Echo’s,” Tereus thought to himself, “Despite their superior genetics, they always seemed so nervous.”.

“Patch it through to this station Lieutenant, encryption RST-375-230.” Tereus replied.

“Right away sir!” The jumpy Echo lieutenant responded.

General Grey appeared on Tereus’ comm. screen built into his transparisteel desk. The General seemed to be his typical gruff but charismatic self, and despite their history Grey’s one eyed stare seemed to pierce through Tereus, almost as if probing his true intentions and soul. The General had a large scar across his left eye, and wore a black eye patch. It definitely added an aura that Grey deserved…no…demanded respect, and anyone who didn’t realize this man also was entitled to the highest level of respect, was a fool.

Tereus keyed the comm. “General Grey, a pleasure as always, but entirely unexpected. You weren’t due to check in for another forty-eight hours…” Grey let out a sigh, and Tereus switched modes from relaxing, to all business, ready to hear what his friend had in store for him and his crew.

“Colonel…we have a situation that requires our…immediate attention.” Grey paused a moment, calculating his verbatim for a moment then continued, “It appears that a member of the DeFrance monarchy is not satisfied with our current progress in the Kusari – Bretonia campaign. I’ve relayed my disagreement to no avail, and as of yet I don’t have specifics…”

At this point General Grey was cut off, as a new party entered the supposedly secure comm. channel. Low and behold, her princess Aurelia DeFrance…

An hour later Tereus emerged from his quarters, livid and fuming. While most Delta’s didn’t have a predisposition for anger, Tereus was damaged goods…or at least that’s what the research personnel and shrinks kept telling him. Tereus had been an exceptional cadet at the training facility for Delta tanks, which is probably why his tryst with Aerith went unimpeded for so long, then the accident…no thought Tereus, he wasn’t going to allow himself to relive that nightmare again...

Tereus wasn’t quite sure what the specific trigger point that led to his and his crews current…punishment…it started around the time Aurelia DeFrance’s gender fluid, pompous, prissy, self-entitled face appeared on his comm. panel, and it culminated with him insulting “it”, leading to his immediate reassignment to some unknown system, under the façade of national security in safeguarding the Kingdom of Gallia. It could have been the fact that Princess DeFrance kept interrupting General Grey, or it could of just been “it’s” voice…either way Tereus was fucked, and by proxy so was the crew.

Tereus formulated the address to the crew he was about to give, and had already contacted Zurie and Daughtery to recall all snub craft for an emergency, and immediate jump out of Tau 21. The first fifteen planned jumps would take them well outside the Sirius star system, and as far as navigational charts were concerned, for all intents and purposes this was a form of exile…rather…banishment from the comforts of House space.

Tereus entered the bridge, and in the ninety second walk it took from his quarters to the bridge he had already formulated his banishment…address to the crew. It was also at that exact moment that he recalled, barely, making a quip about DeFrance being a gender fluid bitch, and something referring to “it’s” reproductive organs…Oh well Tereus thought to himself, it’s too late now to retract that statement.

The bridge crew snapped to attention as Tereus walked through the blast doors.

“At ease”, He commented as he walked to his station in the middle of the bridge, “Prepare a battle group wide message, and prepare for an emergency FTL jump out of system.” The crew on the bridge rushed into action, efficient, calculated, purposeful filled action.

Tereus keyed the comm. panel at his bridge station and began to address the battle group, “Attention all personnel of the Battle Group Wrath, we have new orders, prepare for an emergency FTL jump out of system. This is not a drill. All crew report to your action stations, and prepare for an emergency FTL jump. Details will be broadcast to your section heads shortly. Colonel Mitchell out!”

The Battle Group Wrath came to life, simultaneously rolling sixty-five degrees to starboard in parade precision, ninety seconds later a plethora of bright flashes from Sector D2 of the Tau 31 system, signaled their departure and the beginning of a long, and fatal journey into uncharted space…

The Errant Venture and the rest of Battle Group Wrath emerged from another series of FTL jumps and at this point Tereus had personally lost track of the number. It wasn’t due to memory loss, rather a complete and utter personal disposition that he just literally didn’t care anymore.

The Battle Group Wrath had left the Sirius star system in early fall of 820 A.S. and literally the past sixteen weeks had been nothing but coordinated FTL Jumps mixed in with routine maintenance and pre-determined deployment sites for deep space FTL communication relays so that they could keep in contact with the Kingdom of Gallia. While logically it made sense to keep an open and dedicated communication line with the Home system of Gallia, specifically Sirius Grey Men command, tactically it was a waste of time. The nearest reinforcement point was fifteen weeks out and really couldn’t be considered a reinforcement point as it was a secluded research and intelligence station with two gunboats and a single squadron of bombers; furthermore it was manned by defective Charlies.

Tereus cringed mentally at the thought of having to be reinforced, or rather, having to rely in any way shape or form on those psycho babble Charlies. Putting it out of his mind he focused on the task at hand, mainly regrouping and resupplying the exhausted Battle Group Wrath. The battle group had been encountering a slew of small disasters for the past eight weeks. Ship and equipment malfunctions, three near reactor meltdowns, and a dwindling supply of rations were just a few examples on the forty page list presented to Tereus at that mornings command briefing.

The biggest concern at the moment was food, followed closely by fuel. Tereus shouldn’t have been surprised that The Maiden of Hope, which was hastily converted from a medical transport to an everything transport had been delivered fresh uniforms in a shipment marked “Food Rations”. He also shouldn’t have been surprised that a large shipment listed as “H-Fuel” was actually just a bunch of spare power relays. He did insult a member of the monarchy, and in some sick twisted way, this was his punishment.

Tereus looked down at his datapad and started running statistical numbers in his mind, by his mental calculation they had another three weeks of FTL jumps to go, and they had supplies for one. They needed to find food, and fuel, and fast. The ironic thing regarding both is they had fully functional hydroponic plants on each ship, which required a sizeable amount of power to operate. In house space frequent resupply of Hydrogen Fuel was never an issue, even in the most seemingly remote sectors of Sirius space. Where was The Cartel when you needed them?

Tereus let himself be distracted, reminiscing on the many adventures that He, Murdock, and Marshall had with The Cartel; from having them run supplies to them in remote sectors, to acting as a diversionary force to allow The Cartel to escape from House space.

Tereus let out an audible chuckle. “The greatest of times”, he thought to himself.

Getting back to the matter at hand, Tereus pulled up the results of the initial system scan, lots of basic elements could be detected within a close proximity to the battle group…carbon, metals, and a whole bunch of others that would do absolutely nothing for food or fuel.

Tereus let out a deep and exaggerated sigh. This whole situation was infuriating and exhausting and really all he wanted to do at the moment was sleep. He continued on his way down to his quarters staring with blood shot eyes at the technical read outs, passing by the entrance to the bridge, then past the officer refreshers. As he rounded the last turn towards his quarters, he was blockaded by Zurie and Daughtery.

“Colonel, we need to chat!” Major Adelaide Zurie exclaimed. Major Zurie was never one for small talk, always calculating, and scarily efficient. She had initially been transferred to his command in the early stages of the Tau Wars, and while Tereus had been skeptical at first, she had proven to him that she was more than competent and her previous OMPF was full of slanderous garbage by inept officers.

“I always have time for you and Daughtery Zurie…seriously though…at ease.” Tereus keyed in the code to his quarters, and extended an arm allowing his officers entrance into his steely abode.

“I’m sure this is good, because it looks like Daughtery can’t hold it in anymore. Since you’re clearly the spokesperson for this crazy plan that is going to save our asses, I’m all ears.” Tereus tossed his datapad on his desk, then all but dove into his bunk, propping his legs up on the side rails, arms behind his head, as he propped his head up in the corner. “Seriously though, sit the fuck down, you’re impulsive rage pacing is killing me”, Tereus quipped.

Tereus had an odd command style. He was a Delta, and Delta’s tended to be more laid back, extremely blunt, and had a more “personal” communication style. Still, He was unique, and He lead by example, and preferred a casual open door policy with his command staff. He felt it lead to better communication and better efficiency overall, as no one on his command staff would feel pressured, or rather, intimidated when attempting to speak their mind.

Daughtery couldn’t stand it any longer, and the sheer excitement in his voice as he started to blurt out the plan meant not only was this going to be good, it was going to be a real adventure. “Boss, we were going over the initial telemetry of the next series of jumps, and…we found something promising. We’re having deep space telemetry run more targeted scans of the area…but…”

“But we think halfway through our next jump we’ll be crossing a ice field.” Zurie butted in, clearly excited, and irritated, that Daughtery almost stole her fiery glory.

Tereus propped himself up on his elbows, the sophisticated power armor he always wore locked him into place, allowing him to relax inside his hermetically sealed suit. “Let me see the initial scans.” Tereus stated as he stared inquisitively at his two junior officers.

Zurie handed him the datapad, and Tereus started reviewing the telemetry. It was indeed promising, he couldn’t deny that, the caveat was that it happened to be an ice field...that was being actively sucked into a black hole. Undoubtedly a collapsed star system…or rather the remnants of one. While the technology and equipment afforded to them, or rather, the technological feats that had been accomplished in the centuries since their ancestors exodus from the Sol system should make this a relatively easy tax, the massive amounts of radiation in the system would give them approximately ninety minutes to harvest all the raw resources they needed.

Tereus listened to Zurie and Daughtery excitedly going over their plan as they intricately detailed the brainchild that would quite literally save them all. Tereus was really only concerned with their survival at this point, but something was eating away in the back at his mind. This something was tossing up red flags like a amateur tossed up errors pretending to be Lane Hacker. He just couldn’t isolate what bothered him about this plan. Dismissing his baser instincts, he cut Zurie and Daughtery short.

“Ok, you have a green light. However I want you to set up a staged FTL jump. The only ships I want jumping within harvesting range of that ice field are The Errant Venture and The Repentance. All other ships should stand off at a range no less than one hundred kilometers and maintain LIDAR communications as a failsafe incase the heavy gravitational distortion around our entry and mining point interfere with standard neural net comms.” Tereus responded.

That red flag was blaring like a reactor breach klaxon in his mind now…what was it that was bothering him. “One more thing, I want this extraction done in a timely matter. We won’t have much time, and I don’t want to waste time. Instead of using our standard snub craft, I want you to work on modifying the tractor beams and boarding cables in the port, starboard, and aft hangar bays. We will grapple them in and then harvest what we need after we proceed to a safe distance. Is that understood?” Tereus almost had a splitting headache at this point. Something was definitely bothering him about this plan but he still couldn’t put his finger on it.

Daughtery and Zurie had already started ignoring him, bantering back and forth about how to make this plan work and reap the most efficient payloads for harvest. It was really all techno babble at this point and while Tereus understood it, he didn’t have the patience anymore for it.

“One more thing,” Tereus blurted out over Daughtery and Zurie. They both paused for a moment presenting him with their full attention. “Get the fuck out of my quarters. I need a nap.”

Daughtery let out a hearty laugh, and Zurie looked embarrassed. “Right away sir, Daughtery you idiot, let’s go.” Zurie grabbed Daughtery’s arm and led him, still laughing, out of Tereus’ quarters. As the door hissed shut behind them, creating an air tight seal, Tereus closed his eyes, and hoped that this blaring klaxon in his mind would go away, even through the mental noise, he was asleep before he could even think about it.

Story Arc: Unexplored Space: Spring – 821 A.S. – Location: Fucked, In a Metreon Gas Cloud
Chapter 2: Things couldn’t get any worse…right?

Tereus was having one of those super annoying vivid dreams. He was back at the academy, in one of Major Deveraux’s science courses, specifically “Theoretical Anomalies in Deep Space”. Despite her attractive outward physique, especially for a significantly older Alpha, Major Veronica Deveraux was all technical data. She wasn’t even technical data nerdy attractive, coming across more as the “I’m better, smarter, and always right, therefore I have cobwebs on my…”, “Please punch me in the throat”, kind of way. Tereus glanced down at the neural net link on his academic desk. 19:58, two…more…minutes.

The odd thing for Tereus was that while his dream had been extremely vivid this entire time, he knew this boring lecture being replayed in his unconscious subconscious was trying to tell him something. He looked down at the neural net link on his academic desk again. 19:58:32. Reliving this dream was making his head hurt worse.

“Now all of this is purely theoretical, based upon the massive amounts of data we have in our massive scientific repositories…” Major Devaurex's voice droned on.

Fuck Me…Tereus thought he remembered her voice being annoying, but not this annoying…it was almost as if someone was dragging a power rake across the deck plates of a hangar bay…or worse that Kusari Pop Music that had been a fad when they left the Sirius system…K-Pop was used by the Kusari forces as a morale killer during the Tau Wars…and it was surprisingly effective. If it didn’t make the Bretonians want to dress up like the opposite sex, in that tragic fashion that was skin tight faux neoprene, it would make them want to jettison themselves out an airlock.

Tereus glanced back down at the neural net link in his academic desk. 19:59.45, fifteen seconds to freedom…

“And that class is all I have for you today. Remember I want your reports on the hazards and potential uses for Metreon Gas in my neural net class folder by 23:59 tomorrow. No late reports will be accepted…” Major Devaurex's concluded.

Oh shit…Metreon gas…The bell signaling the end of class went off, and simultaneously Tereus awoke to warning klaxons blaring, as he was violently thrown from his bunk as a volley of explosions rocked The Errant Venture and The Repentance.

Tereus’ comm. panel sprang to life and Daughtery’s quizzical, and slightly amused voice could be heard coming in over the internal comm…well kind of. Zurie’s explicit verbatim clashed with the controlled panic of the engineering team, as more explosions filled in for the percussive instruments, and the shrieking klaxons kept wailing.

“Ugh…Tereus we have a problem…”, Daughtery stated as calmly as possible.

“Let me guess, Metreon Gas?” Tereus responded, rubbing his forehead where he felt a nice lump forming from where his face impacted on the bulkhead.

“Yeah…lucky guess Colonel, how’d you know?” Daughtery stated, almost astonished that Tereus was able to seemingly read his mind.

“Long story, you remember Major Deveraux’s “Theoretical Anomalies snore session from the academy?” Tereus, wrestled with the shockwaves rocking his ship, finally righting himself and stabilizing himself on the corner of his desk as the mass of explosions continued.

“Major Cobwebs?” Daughtery exclaimed, “I guess I should of paid more attention in that class…”

Daughtery was interrupted by a pissed off and less amused Zurie. “Damn it Daughtery, get your stupid ass over here and help me remodulate our shields,” she paused for a moment, clearly flustered, but attempting to regain her composure, “If we live through this you and the Colonel can continue this useless conversation about the sexless exploits of former objects of conquest…”

Tereus chuckled, they were screwed, but he had to laugh…Major Cobwebs had been on Daughtery’s conquest list freshman through junior year, well until she quite literally shot him down in front of the entire academy…good times, good times.

“I’m on my way to the bridge, you and Daughtery do what you can down there, relay all remodulation frequencies to Tiberius on The Repentance” Tereus stumbled to his quarter’s door, stabilized himself on the bulkhead, and punched in his code. The door hissed open, and he made his way to the bridge, stumbling and clawing his way there through the chaotic scene going on in the main corridor.

It was oddly amusing to him to see everyone, including himself, slipping and sliding down the hallways in their power armor. While the suits did have mag boots, with the violent force of the explosions, one could be expected to quite literally be turned to jelly from the vibrations that would resonate through their armor. At the very last it’d snap your spine.

Tereus finally made it to the bridge entrance. Swearing mentally, he thought to himself, note to self, add more convenient hand holds outside the door.

Tereus fought to enter his access codes. Finally, after his sixth attempt, the door slid open, and he clambered towards his station on the bridge.

“Give me a status report people!” Tereus barked to the bridge staff, “And someone please, kill the audible alarm…we all know we’re in deep shit!”

Ensign Trimble killed the alarm, and the jumpy Echo lieutenant…M…Mar…Marseille started to rattle off the long list of things that were probably going to kill them, on top of starvation, or the atmospheric recyclers shutting down.

“Shields are down to twelve percent Colonel, and we’re almost out of charged shield batteries…” Lieutenant Marseille stated.

Tereus slammed his armored fist down on the comm. panel in his chair, “Damn it Zurie, you have thirty seconds and then we’re all dead!” He yelled into the comm.

“Almost done sir, I need fifteen seconds…” Zurie could be heard over the comm.

“You have ten Zurie, make it happen!” Tereus shouted back into the comm.

Unsurprisingly the violent explosion subsided in eight seconds, as the explosions stopped. Zurie had done it, and also, unsurprisingly, she’d found a way to utilize the residual energy from the continuing explosions from the ignited metreon gas to charge the shields, and reinforce the hull plating. Tereus chuckled. At least some one paid attention in Major Cobweb’s class.

Sixty minutes later The Errant Venture and The Repentance were operational, enough. That still only left them thirty minutes to harvest the massive ice shards they’d need to save their battle group. Tiberius, the over achieving bastard that he was, had already managed to hook and begin recovery operations of on massive ball of ice. The explosions had completely thrown The Errant Venture’s port and starboard hangars into disarray and the flight deck crews were busting tail attempting to clear a spot large enough to bring in the life saving cargo just a few hundred meters from the atmospheric energy barrier keeping them all from being sucked into space.

The good news was that Zurie and Daughtery were in process of bringing in another ice shard into the aft hangar. The bad news was that the gravitational sheer from the nearby black hole was making it a task similar to reeling in a Nomad gunship with a durasteel line and a Rogue Bloodhound.

Tereus glanced down at the timer counting down on his command chair. Eighteen minutes. He keyed the comm., “Zurie, you have twelve minutes, max. We have to get out of here. Now that we have the remodulation frequency, we can send in a few transports on rotating shifts. We need to get out of here before the radiation from the black hole exceed our filtration abilities.”

“Understood sir, we ‘re almost done. Ten minutes, that’s all we need!” Zurie stated back over the comm. Despite her eccentricities, Zurie was a smooth operator when it came to tasks like this. It was still amusing to Tereus that her former commanding officer had dumped her upon him, through way of then Colonel Grey. Tereus had been a Major at the time and was a rising star and protégé of the renowned Grey. Initially he too had viewed Zurie as a burden instead of an asset, but that was solely based upon the data found in her OMPF that had been made available to him.

When Zurie first arrived, fresh off an armored transport aboard the launch bay of The Death’s Head, Tereus wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. She introduced herself, formally, and he could tell she had spent the better part of the six hour flight to their location, rehearsing what she would say at that exact moment. Oddly enough it was due to a lack of self confidence, or self esteem, as her OMPF had suggested. Instead it was due to deeply embedded need for perfection, and her personal need to present herself as a competent officer.

Zurie was definitely rough around the edges, and Daughtery was the first to get on her bad side. Surprisingly enough it wasn’t do to unwanted bravado in the form of not so subtle advances, but rather because he offered assistance at optimizing a prototype weapons platform, and completely altering her plans for the end product. After a terse arbitration by Tereus between the two, an uncanny relationship formed as the two talked tech and acted as a mutually beneficial sounding board for thoughts and creativity.

The end result of that first encounter was the highly agile, heavily armed, and deadly Mechanized AS units they currently employed throughout the battle group. Needless to say, Zurie had proven herself on more than one occasion and she was regarded as an equal, and a sister to everyone in the crew. That and she kept Daughtery in line.

Tereus’ comm. panel crackled to life. “Colonel, we’ve completed the salvage operation, we exit the metreon gas cloud now.” The sense of accomplishment in Zurie’s voice was justly deserved. “Sir, also, I’ve uploaded the fastest route out of the gas cloud, we should be able to clear it in three minutes.”

“Excellent work Zurie, you and Daughtery really came through. I’ve signaled Tiberius on The Repentance, we are beginning exfil maneuvers now. Drinks are on me once we set foot on solid ground.” Tereus unkeyed the comm. and looked down at the neural-net interface. Eight minutes, exactly what he’d come to expect from Major Adelaide Zurie.

As The Errant Venture and The Repentance exited the metreon gas cloud with six minutes to spare, Tereus finally sank back into his command chair and relaxed. He let out a deep sigh, and massaged his temples, finally noticing that his headache had gone away. Finally! Things were beginning to look up.

Seriously…Tereus was multi-tasking…and mentally flipping out. As he listened to the Chief Medical Officer on board The Errant Venture the intelligent, yet unfortunately long winded Alpha Captain Lucius Deveraux, he was also mentally envisioning himself torturing and beating Edward A. Murphy to death, while simultaneously taunting the poor mental ghost over his creation of Murphy’s Law.

Really…who had the time in the ancient culture of their genetic ancestors to just sit around and think about archaic philosophical ideas, and then coin them into pestering nuances like, “Whatever can happen will happen, oh by the way, when it does, you’re beyond screwed…”

“So as you can see Colonel, the side effects are merely a miraculous fluke of the collected and filtered water that we recovered from the ice shard that Major Zurie and Daughtery were able to recover. It really is quite fascinating. Again, I want to assure you that the side effects are merely a thrilling reaction to our specific genetic engineering responding to the minimal levels of radiation in the reclaimed water..” Captain Deveraux prattled on.

Not so surprisingly there were many in service Alphas that shared varying forms of the original Deveraux’s genetic material. Also not surprising in the least to Tereus is that everyone of them had the inherent ability to be brilliant, and annoying as fuck at the same time. He’d had enough, as he snatched poor Edward Murphy’s spine by way of his throat in his mind, he simultaneously placed his armored hand on Captain Deveraux’s shoulder.

“Doc, seriously, as exciting as I find this, I don’t find it nearly as fascinating as you, and I don’t have the time at the moment to continue listening to your educational lecture.”

Seriously Lucius…you need to get laid. Tereus thought to himself.

“Ah yes…yes… I do forget myself at times. It’s just so fascinating that something so readily available in the universe could cause such…”

Tereus sighed, and just walked off, leaving Lucius to his dictation. Undoubtedly anyone walking towards the medical bay would be able to hear Lucius incessantly talking to the air, and to anyone willing to stand around for the next three hours.

As he sauntered down the corridor towards the turbo lift which would take him to the port hangar bay, still in shambles from the explosive adventure they had when FTLing into the metreon gas cloud, he inadvertently shivered at the thought that if he had been conceived five cycles prior, he too could be a prattling twit. He inadvertently cringed again as the turbo lift doors slammed shut, and he began his decent to the port hangar.

The positive side to this entire endeavor…no…adventure was that Battle Group Wrath was in process of refueling all ships with the hydrogen provided as a byproduct from the ice shard processing. That meant that the hydroponic facilities would once again begin mass production of food, with the first batches already rolling off the production line. Then there was the fact that this raw material harvesting gave everyone a much needed respite, morale boost, and refresh.

The weird side to this entire scenario was that everyone who ate the fresh batch of rations were starting to glow…like…an eerie green glow that you’d imagine toxic sludge would emanate…or MOX…yeah…a MOXY glow. Several crew members had begun to show signs of this creepy side effect about half an hour after eating, or showering. Daugherty and Zurie were working in conjunction with Lucius to correct the issue, hopefully by filtering out more of the genetic modifying radioactive isotopes still bonded in the most minuscule amount in the water.

This task however was currently stagnant however as Zurie had become irritated with Daughtery’s inability to not find their glowing bodies purely comedic as well as Lucius’ constant rambling about things only he found fascinating. This culminated into Zurie discharging her side arm...well rather…emptying her side arm into one of the multi-spectral analyzers…and well the rest was unimportant.

She was currently lounging in the officer’s mess taking some girl time. Tereus had restricted Daughtery to his quarters for the time being…mainly because Daughtery kept inspecting certain parts of his now glowing body, and saying things like this is so cool or Hey Doc, can you make our cells pulse like strobe lights? Needless to say Zurie was completely within her right to...discharge her firearm as a means of stress relief.

Tereus approached the port hangar bay, dodging motorized skid loaders and flight deck crews still attempting to put the place back together eighteen hours after their explosive entry into this sector.

Man…this place is trashed. Tereus thought to himself as he took in the fiasco that was in front of him.

It was going to take at least another forty-eight hours for the crew on both The Errant Venture and The Repentance to get things sorted.

Tereus let out another sigh…and began mentally kicking Murphy’s lifeless body. In their ancestral culture in the Sol system there had been a derogatory term known as a “Troll”. The translation was lost, but the basic meaning as far as anyone in the current time period could surmise was quite literally: a person or entity that gains pleasure from the demise of others. Apparently, Mr. Murphy was the epitome of a troll.

Tereus just shook his head, mentally discharged his firearm into Murphy’s lifeless carcass, and then proceeded towards his quarters. He needed a drink. Lucky for him there was a bottle of vintage Texas Crown Royale in his personal stash. A gift from one of The Cartel members after an engagement in Houston with the Liberty Navy, a couple Junkers, and oddly enough some crazy guy with an LPI IFF / ID that thought he could “police” The Badlands in a dreadnaught..

Tereus let out an audible laugh. Now that he thought about it out of all the houses in Sirius, Liberty had to be the weirdest place. It was like…a trip through your mind…after a cardamine binger…or after partying with The Order on Toledo before it got smoked…Man The Order…

Tereus shivered at the thought of how many Nomad’s Bane’s he’d drunk while out on an expeditionary trip to Toledo. It wasn’t really the thought of how much liquor he’d consumed with Murdock, Marshall, Golanski, and Tovig Kelt, but more the fact that no one offered to tell him it was dead Nomad essence they’d been sending into their gut with the liquor. Nomads in general were just…creepy…like heeby jeeby creepy. How any sentient species could evolve into ultimate form, as a quasi-energy, parasitic, glob of purple glowing jelly was beyond Tereus, even with his genetically enhanced reasoning and intelligence.

Tereus rounded the final bend and keyed in the code to his quarters. Before the door even hissed shut behind him, he had downed a chaser of perfectly chilled Texas Crown Royale. As he poured himself another tall one, he started to clamber out of his power armor. While it was true that he was rarely seen without it, he felt disgusting, and needed a stint in the refresher. Sliding out of the nano-mesh weave compression suit, he kicked it into the laundry next to the refresher and climbed in, Texas Crown Royale in one hand, and his other palm down on the refresher walls, enjoying the warm refreshing water rain down on him…

Shit Tereus thought, the irradiated reclaimed water was cycling through the refresher systems. Tereus let out a sigh, grabbed his towel, and dried off. Before he was even finished he had already started to glow. The Texas Crown had already begin to metabolize in his system, and he went to relive himself at the head. As he relieved himself he couldn’t help but look down.

Hmm…Daughtery was right…this is cool...at least I won’t miss the hole when I stumble out of bed at odd hours of the night. Tereus just grinned at this last thought and couldn’t wait to finish up and crawl into bed.

Story Arc: Unexplored Space: Spring – 821 A.S. – Location: Tereus’ Mind

810 A.S., The Academy, Gallic Space, 0558. Winter was upon The Academy. Peaceful snowfall blanketed the landscape in the early hours of that fateful day, weighing heavily on the boughs of the pine trees that traversed the landscape. The scene presented was one of pure aesthetic bliss; a beautiful sunrise was beginning to cast radiant warmth across the valley where The Academy was located. A palette hue of deep lilac painted the sky accented by warm and varying shades of orange and yellow. The view of the morning sky in itself was a breathtaking spectacle littering the backdrop of space with distant stars, nebulas, and an overbearing view of the nearby planet and its orbiting moons. The serene setting was quickly shattered as the morning reveille broke the silence, The Academy’s loud speakers sending the cacophony of sound waves that shattered the brisk cold air of morning.

The Academy sprang to life! Those not already awake were quite literally falling out of their bunks, the sounds of hasty preparation as the cadets prepared for the day sent a deep reverb through the valley, orders were being shouted, boots could be heard echoing through the halls as the tanks rushed through the corridors, preparing for morning formation.

Tereus had been up for hours. He had been taking in the start of the day from his cadet quarters located within The Spire where he and his fellow battalion staff were assigned on the top floor, affording him this wondrous view…if he had been programmed to enjoy that kind of thing. The sprawling landscape before him with its snow covered forests, frozen lake, and extensive mountain ranges was a tactical nightmare. Too many points of entry, concealed cover less than one hundred meters from the decorative academy outer walls, and then there was the fact they were centrally located in a valley with a single road leading straight to their gates.

Tereus let out a deep sigh and took another sip of his morning café. He had been reviewing the schedule for the day while running tactical scenarios in his mind for the day’s final war game simulation prior to commencement, that and he had terrible insomnia. The insomnia was a fairly common side effect for his specific batch of Deltas and the root cause had something to do with genetic modifiers that afforded them the ability to function optimally with four hours of sleep a day. The constant mind play however was just Tereus. He turned instinctively preceding the noise of rustling sheets. Aerith was just rolling out of bed, and while she too was a Delta, she had adopted the bad human habit of pretending to sleep in.

Tereus watched as Aerith feigned a yawn and began to stretch, slowly dropping her legs off the edge of the bunk one at a time. He forced a smile imitating a useless human mannerism. He knew it was fake, and so did Aerith, but for some odd reason it always seemed to brighten her day.

“Good Morning Tereus, my love.” Aerith said jocularly. Aerith knew that Tereus viewed the spectrum of human emotions and socially accepted traditions as a complete waste of time and energy. She also knew that it had no affect on him emotionally or otherwise, either way she enjoyed her “human” traditions.

Tereus just stared back at her with his cold, calculating, emotionless eyes. Aerith knew, or rather, she had allowed herself to infer that when directed towards her it was in a manner of extreme affection. Aerith paused, allowing herself to soak in the moment. She didn’t know why but she found a semblance of solace in allowing herself these unnecessary moments.

She found herself indulging in these human mannerisms on a daily basis, staring at Tereus from across the classroom, or while he barked orders at the other cadets, or even as he meticulously and methodically cleaned his weapon, shined his boots, or strapped on his armor.

Aerith allowed herself to catalog his emotionless expression, his pure and unwavering confidence and determination, and anything else she found aesthetically pleasing for a moment longer, then slapped her palms down on the bed, pushing herself upright and sauntered off to the refresher, flaunting her rear the whole way.

Tereus just shook his head. He couldn’t understand why Aerith incorporated these utterly useless mannerisms into her daily routine. Not only were they truly useless in the capacity in which they were born, bred, and being trained, it was a complete waste of time. Tereus glanced down at his neural-net link on his wrist. 0610. He was going to be late for formation at this rate.

“Aerith,” Tereus stated monotonously, “I’m headed out. Secure the door when you leave.”

Aerith feigned obliviousness but he knew she heard him, there was always a noticeable pause in her humming when he spoke to her while she was refreshing. Another useless human ritual, Tereus thought to himself as he exited his quarters.

Tereus exited his quarters and made a left. He briskly walked down the monotone gray faux stone corridor towards the central turbo lift. On his way he passed many other command staff, all his junior, saluting as he went. While he understood the need for military tradition he theorized that the day would be infinitely more efficient in both time and energy if he didn’t have to salute all the other cadet officers as he traversed the campus. Alternatively the other cadets could become more efficient by not having to salute him all the time, even though he was the battalion commander.

Seven hundred and twenty-two. Tereus thought to himself. That was the average numbers of times he had been saluted on a daily basis during their twenty hour days. He had allowed for a standard deviation of twenty-two salutes a day especially when he was participating in the pre-graduation war simulations, still between traversing classes, intersecting with lower classmen on his trips across campus, the mess, the armory, battalion HQ, and the trips to and from his quarters. All in all saluting seemed like a pointless task, respect was earned, either through merit, talent, or knowledge, and providing a sign of respect to someone who had displayed none of the aforementioned seemed like a way to control the sheepish human masses that he unfortunately shared genetic origins with.

Tereus glanced down at his neural-net link again. 0614. He was definitely going to be late, by at least thirty seconds. Tereus broke into a jog and headed to The Teardrop, named for its tear drop shape that acted as a fancy cul-de-sac, and also the formation ground. He slowed to a brisk yet composed stride as he walked to the head of the formation where his battalion staff was already waiting.

“Battalion, a-ten-huh.” Cadet Major Daughtery bellowed to the sea of cadets before him. As Tereus approached his position at the head of the formation he could the echo of the battalion before him snapping to attention. As Daughtery ran through the motions of taking roll call, Cadet Lieutenant Colonel Isaline Deveraux handed Tereus the itinerary that the day had in store for them. He skimmed the data pad: mess, capstone courses, morning PT, squad tactics and special weapons,… the list went on and on. Tereus secured the datapad to his belt around the same time that Daughtery finished roll call. After going through the rest of what Tereus considered to be useless formalities, he and his staff paraded to the mess hall, the rest of battalion falling out by company behind them.

Aerith managed to sneak in as Tereus and the rest of the command staff were being served the morning meal. She had a spring in her step and a smile on her face and to those who didn’t know better she could of doubled as a typical Gallian in her final year of secondary school. She slid into her spot to the right of Tereus and seemed giddy as she rubbed her hands together as she made mental note of what she was going to have for breakfast. Tereus and Daughtery were debating the finer points of close quarter combat, specifically what they viewed to be lacking in the current courses. The Deveraux’s were arguing again over a trivial theoretical contradiction regarding their final project submission for one of their medical courses. Finally the Marshall twins were discussing the new AS Mechanized Units with Tiberius, and from what little of the conversation Aerith picked up it had to do with mobility versus armament.

Aerith started to eat but couldn’t help but to fixate on Tereus again. He had already finished his meal, and his discussion with Daughtery, and was leaning back in his chair, one leg across the opposite knee, fiddling with his datapad. No doubt mapping out more battle plans…Aerith mused. The one serious flaw in the façade of their relationship was that if she really analyzed it like she knew he did, was that Tereus was quite literally a machine. A logical, ridiculously efficient…machine. Aerith let out a grin. They really did have a unique relationship, thought Aerith.

While many viewed Tereus as a focused, logical, emotionless, driven, and enigmatic being, Aerith knew that he was…calculatingly caring. The only real way to describe the previous thought was that despite his assertive and aggressive demeanor, Tereus had the ability to see the bigger picture, and come to a deeper understanding of situations and people, often before they could get there themselves. This had initially led her to be interested in him, more to try to figure him out than anything else. That had led to something deeper and now she frequently spent the night in his quarters. Despite the rumors that floated around The Academy amongst cadets and handlers equally, nothing had happened between them. Yes, they shared the same bed. Yes, they spent almost all of their personal time together. Yes, their relationship could be viewed as intimate. Overall however they really just enjoyed each other’s company, or rather, she enjoyed his.

Tereus had the inherent ability to put into words, what a person needed to hear, raw and unfiltered, but resolute. He didn’t take sides, he didn’t try to soften the blow, he just...rationally and logically processed the information available to him, came to a series of probable solutions, then bluntly explained why you were most likely an idiot. Many viewed him as being a heartless, egotistical, bastard, and while that was surely justified, he really was an interesting tank.

As Aerith continued to gaze with a sense of wonderment in his direction, Tereus glanced over at her with his cold, calculating, emotionless eyes and shook his head, before returning his attention back to mapping out his battle plans for that evenings exercises. Seriously Aerith…useless mannerisms.