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+--- Thread: Heir to the Coalition (/showthread.php?tid=51053)
Heir to the Coalition - arvg - 12-06-2010
![[Image: xiaobei-3.png]](http://i926.photobucket.com/albums/ad103/cplydon/xiaobei-3.png)
In the aftermath of the Derelict incident, Doctor XiaoBei had been eagre to get back to work. Of course that had to be post-poned while he was subjected to batteries of tests, psyche evaluations, and a myriad of other security checks to ensure that he wasn't a kind of ticking Phantom controlled human time bomb.
They were satisfied enough to allow him to get back to work, of course that meant he was under heavy guard who had orders to shoot him if he behaved in an erratic manner.
So he had to lay off of the vodka and the MJ he kept in the drawer. Annoying, but at least he was permitted to do what he loved, which was sort out the hundred and one projects that required his attention.
First there was the Redemption, which was proceeding about as quickly as molasses rolling up hill on crutches in January. Having people attempt to learn Gallic science from holotainment bands was a fantastic solution, however it was enormously slow. And that was before the whole Phantom incident had changed the way they looked at science all together.
It meant that his second project, the XKR-151 fighters had to be scrapped, well not so much scrapped as completely redesigned. The performance of the XKR prototype was fantastic, but considering all they had learned from the Gallic sciences, and what they were learning dissecting the Phantom shuttle, meant that they had to start again, to fix some fundamental design flaws...
And then there was the Umbrella project, dumped on his desk because of the collapse of the Commissariat of Truth. Oh it would be back, the Coalition depended on its secret police, and rumour had it that the Premier was appointing people directly loyal to him in the key positions. But until they were back in control, the work on the dangerous alien artifacts, and the Nomad Power Cell that fueled them fell to him.
Considering the guard, and the fact that he seemed to have a whole new understanding of the way the universe worked, courtesy of the Phantom computer, he felt it prudent to review all of the experiments that had been conducted under Medvedov's reign.
File BK-0001-CLASSIFIED: CODE GREY
That caused XiaoBei to pause, flipping open the paper file. Code Grey meant there were only paper copies of the report, internal to TOR-ONE only. So highly secret that the Coalition did what it normally did with such files, read them once, then lock them away in a vault so deep it would never be found... of course the fall of His Watchful Eye had occoured before the file could reach the dead vault.
At first it appeared a normal Umbrella experiment, the alien artifacts were known to create localized Ion Storms powerful enough to grind all of Sirius to a halt. It had proven useful in staving off two separate assualts on Omega-52. The localized ion disruptions had also caused a significant time fluctuation on the CPW Social Credit, at times phasing the gunboat into and out of the regular time frame... the Lag effect.
He read on, pausing on key words. Test Subject, maturation chamber... time acceleration.
Flipping the pages, he stopped when he read the interrogation reports for Lt. Colonel Broch, conducted by Commissar Yuveraj Khan aboard TOR-ONE...
"Oh... my God," he breathed, scooping up a Growler phone. "Someone get me a courier, and get this file over to Lt. Colonel Broch on the Trotsky... hurry it up!"
He shook his head, rubbing his temples, the bloody commissariat's little shop of horrors... out to create a whole new nightmare.
Heir to the Coalition - Wolfs Ghost - 12-06-2010
![[Image: murphy.png]](http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h164/shade545/murphy.png)
His eyes searched the field of vision before him.
The system nestled in the midst of the Walker nebula itself. A dreaded white place. At least he enjoyed the change of scenery that he was accustomed to back on Planet Leeds. Hell, he was still trying to adjust to the clean air on the planet. Which is probably a reason that he's had annoying sinus pressure build-up.
Henry closed his eyes briefly, letting out a sigh, then re-opening his eyes to continue scanning the area. He never did enjoy using the scanners, the blasted things were bugged. Then again, it's probably due to that he's never flown a craft such as this. His near-entire year in the Coalition he's served onboard the Capital ships as an adjutant to some gallic bastard who betrayed his own people. Or that's what he was led to believe. Henry himself wasn't exactly free from that guilt, but it didn't seem to bug him all that much.
Now he was here, a Lieutenant in the Fighter Corps, and his first assignment, one that he personally put off for countless of times, due to him being lazy apparently. That's what he called it, laziness. But that first assignment was never-the-less completed as directed by the commissar himself. Or was it due to the long standing tradition of the Coalition? He never really knew, nor secretly cared. Life wasn't what he was expecting when he joined so many months ago. But he couldn't have been any happier. He smile to himself, until the speakers cracked open.
"Stop day dreaming, Murphy. This is a standard patrol..get your ass moving and get on my wing."
He laughed lightly, "Sir, yes sir." He replied back, in his usual cocky tone, which surprisingly hasn't gotten himself killed, yet.
Heir to the Coalition - Jayce - 12-07-2010
![[Image: brooks.png]](http://i926.photobucket.com/albums/ad103/cplydon/brooks.png)
Busy in one of the bays on Sevastopol, Jayce was busy knocking dents out of the hull of the Credit with a large hammer. The ringing in his ears had simply turned into a single humming sound by this time, and Jayce was rather worried about his hearing. He laid the hammer down on the deck of the bay, and soon after the ringing in his ears died down. Strolling out one of the corridors to the officer's mess on the station, he examined what was for dinner.
"Oh yes! Corn dog night! Woohoo!" Jayce shouted, turning quite a few of the heads in the mess hall towards him. "What are you looking at?" Jayce said to a rather burly Marine, who continued eating his dinner. "Yeah, that's right, keep eating." Brooks muttered to himself. Jayce jogged over to one of the serving lines, and before 15 minutes had gone by, had already gotten seconds on his food. He threw his tray into the slot at the end of the serving line, and trotted back to the hangar bay, still munching on a corn dog...
Heir to the Coalition - Aphil - 12-07-2010
![[Image: joeyn.png]](http://img199.imageshack.us/img199/8428/joeyn.png)
Daemon walked briskly through the decks of the Trotsky, now under-going repairs due to the damage caused by the Phantom Warship. He passed by a technician just finishing up patching up damages to one of the Trotsky's control panels. He moved quickly at an even pace up to the Bridge where he sat down on the command chair. Daemon reflected on everything that had happened since he joined the Coalition. From the incident in Pennsylvania, to his pilgrimage to the Hispania, even recalling the time when he and Jayce had beat back a Ranseur with only a Storm and a Revolution. Indeed, he remembered his rapid rise through the ranks, he also remembered all the times he had almost gotten himself shot. He'd be kidding himself if he thought it was because he was a skilled Fighter Pilot, no, the Coalition had plenty of those. It seemed as though the High Command saw potential in him, to become something more then just another Fighter Jockey. His train of thought was interrupted by a light suddenly crashing to the floor. Jayce was going to hear hell for almost blowing up the one ship that had meant the most to Daemon.
Heir to the Coalition - Capt. Henry Morgan - 12-09-2010
![[Image: RThacker.png]](http://i532.photobucket.com/albums/ee323/XA-Falcon/RThacker.png)
Satisfied that the Aeon's Fall would be ready to return to duty as soon as it was needed, Robert was on his way to his quarters. After changing out of his flight suit and checking his messages, he was going to head down to the bar to knock down a brew or three. God knew he needed it.
Heir to the Coalition - Shagohad - 12-09-2010
![[Image: angie2.png]](http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c25/menoth/angie2.png)
She sat in the spacious waiting room of Katz's office. Alicia, the faithful and promiscuous secretary of the Premier sat at her desk, typing idly on her computer. The sound of each key clacking down seemed amplified by the architecture of the room. A few minutes passed as the seconds felt like hours. This must have been important. Why else would Katz have called her off an active combat patrol?
"He's ready for you, Comrade Broch," Alicia said in her cheery voice. With a heavy sigh, she stood, straightening her uniform and walking to the double doors that led into the work room of the most powerful man in the Coalition. Once inside, she marched straight to the Premier's desk, halting a meter away and bringing her hand up in a salute.
Alvin Katz sat at his desk, chair tilted back in a lean, a slip of paper in his hands and a pair of reading glasses balanced on the tip of his nose. Seconds ticked by into minutes as she stood there, waiting for him to return the salute. Instead he said, "Angelica, you can drop your arm and relax. Now isn't the time for military rabble." He hadn't even looked up from his documents
"Yes Comrade Premier Ka-"
"Alvin," He interrupted her mid sentence.
"Alvin," She concluded, pulling up a chair and sitting down. Her eyes fixated on the Premier, his focus still on what he held before him.
He set down the document and gave a heavy sigh. His hands came up to remove the reading glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose. "I know that the Commissariat has wronged you, Angie. That they've gone and wronged us," He looked up at her, his eyes narrowing. The strain of his work showed in his features. Crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, a graying of the hair, and the wizened look of a man who had seen and done more than any man should in his eyes.
"They took-"
"I know. And we're getting it back. Doctor XiaoBei has found a most...disturbing lead. It's not good." He leaned forward, his tone softening a little, "Angie, you need to find TOR ONE and you must retrieve what rightfully belongs to us. To you."
Her gaze fell down to the floor in thought. Straining her voice a bit, she finally spoke, "I'm going to assault the Commissariat's headquarters. I assume that Khan will be there?" Alvin only nodded in reply. Uncertainty shifted to bitterness and anger as she stood up, turning away from the Premier and out the front door.
"Be careful!" The words made her halt mid stride. Her head turning around to look back at him, a warm smile now spread across his lips.
"I'm not dead yet. And I don't intend on being so for a long time." And with that, she left the office.
Heir to the Coalition - Rodent - 12-09-2010
Santorini was holed up in the small cubbyhole that passed for the office of the Commissar, and she looked wearily at another set of documents on her screen. More quotas, more targets, more plans. How many of those would be achieved? She typed out a few corrections, and forwarded them to the correct destination....
It had been a while since she last flew, and she looked out of a window at the sky of JiangXi. White nearly blinded her.
I'll be back soon....
Heir to the Coalition - arvg - 12-09-2010
![[Image: Tor-one.png]](http://i926.photobucket.com/albums/ad103/cplydon/Tor-one.png)
"Burn them!" Khan ordered standing amidst the chaos that was running through the Ministry of Truth's premier installation.
Great piles of papers were being destroyed as fast as they could. Detailing the Commissariat's activities through the McIntosh era, and the turbulent rise to power of Premier Katz. There were records there, that held the potential of bringing down the whole Coalition if they were ever brought to light, and the last thing any of them wanted were for the activities of the secret police out in the public domain for anyone to view.
Crates of papers were being taken down to the cargo bay, where hfuel was being poured over them and matches tossed with reckless abandon, the ashes being vented to deep space, never to be seen again.
Of course the fall of the commissariat wouldn't last. The Coalition needed its secret police, needed the fearful shadow that it cast behind the Premier. He was beloved of the people, a modernizer, a liberal hand of change, and yet his enemies were growing bolder. They would strike out at him, and when they did, the Premier would call upon the Commissariat once more, and like a phoenix, His Watchful Eye would yet again stand vigil.
"Commissar Khan," a lower ranking fleet officer called, his uniform undone and his tie askew, a bottle of Vodka clutched in his hand. "We have ships inbound..."
"They're coming," Khan surmised. "Hurry up," he bellowed to the men, marching out of the offices, and pausing to look at the Watchful Eye logo on the wall. Someone had painted tightly shut eyelids... how appropriate to the moment.
"Get me the head of special projects," he commanded of another flunkie. "Tell them to shut down our more sensitive projects, enact the Silver Protocols."
He smiled, looking out of a window at the ghostly fog of the nebula. "Come, you won't find what you want. This I guarantee to you."
Heir to the Coalition - Yuveraj Khan - 12-09-2010
![[Image: HWE.png]](http://i926.photobucket.com/albums/ad103/cplydon/HWE.png)
He stood, before the various monitors, tied into the TAC net and guncams of each of the Coalition vessels. Around him news reports streamed data from around Sirius. Awash in a sea of information, Bacchus mused on the events unfolding before his eyes.
An opportunity arose, one which needed to be seized.
"Order Santorini to TOR-ONE," He stated aloud, as the AI computers rushed to comply, filling out the appropriate orders, even digitally signing them from Admiral Karchov's office. "Order her to ensure the safety of the Commissariat, and the Ministry of Truth's interests, no matter who she has to kill in order to achieve this."
Bacchus folded his hands at the small of his back.
There was a new sentinal on the wall.
His Watchful Eye was ever vigilant.
Heir to the Coalition - Rodent - 12-09-2010
Be careful what you wish for.........
Santorini reflected on that as she was on board a transport bound to the fearsome name, the black prison, TOR-ONE. Just a few hours she had been wishing for action. Now she had more than bargained for. She still recalled the message-
Head to TOR-ONE at once. Ensure the security of the Commissariat. You are authorized to use any amount of force needed to achieve this.
Admiral Alexi Karchov.
She wondered why this would be needed. Something was up, and she would have to be watchful. Taking out a trusty pistol from her pocket, she loaded it, and pocketed it again. So be it.