Union of Independant Worlds IC Roleplaying Thread

[Cannonshop]

Vanh Ranch, Kowloon...

"...Come east, there's four...make it six strays on Traxhall mountain."  The plane was a 'farm rig' J-210, powered by a 3 Liter 'multifuel mutilator'.  Normally used for crop-dusting, the J-210 dated back to pre-spaceflight Terran applications.   Such aircraft were more common up on the Ia Drang plateau, but between cropdusting seasons, the little flyers were often for rent to the lowland ranches.  (everything not on the Plateau qualifies as 'lowland'-at least, by some standards...)

Teng Maus was doing his last summer of freedom before his Enlistment would begin.

"Copy that, Little Bird, how many kliks out from the herd?"  Old man Vanh (not really that old, but every boss is "the Old Man" unless they were a lady...) replied over the channel.

"Fifteen Kays from your position, I'll make a couple scare-passes to head 'em off."  Teng offered.

"Negative, just keep an eye on 'em.  Do you see Predator sign yet?"  Vanh replied.

Teng dropped another hundered meters, skimming scrub trees and strained his eyes.

"Affirmative, I've got a pack of canines about nine kilometers south of the strays, looks like big Timberwolves, over."  Teng answered.

"NOW you can scare the animals-make the Wolves not want to come North, would you?"

"Roger that."  Teng clawed up some extra altitude, and came down over the pack of wolves, dropping "Poppers" in front of them and slightly to the North, the pack of predators broke from a formation-lope to a frantic dispersal.

too bad we can't shoot them... he mused.  Earthlife predators were protected on Kowloon, since they tended to crowd out more dangerous native predators.

So, all he had were whistlers and Poppers.

"Little Bird, this is the boss, just got a message in, I need you back at the field shack ASAP, Over."

Teng banked the plane, adjusting the fuel mix, and headed back south to the fall encampment.



"...kid's a pretty decent pilot." Eddie Vanh, formerly Master Gunnery Sargeant Vanh, commented as the small, bright-orange plane descended on the dirt strip in front of the winter camp.  "Shame he's been expedited like this."

"Corps has a Need, he's on the list...hell, Gunny, I think they'd even take you back in."  Masterchief Cu'ong of the Coast guard said.  Both men were leaning on Cu'ong's official car, drinking chickory coffee, Vanh's was cut with a local rice wine, but the Master-Chief's had to be black and...unspiked.

"Why'd they send a Coastie?" Eddie asked.

"Levy's on the Local side, Gunny-your boy's just lucky he isn't getting drafted to the Army." Cu'ong told him, "His GT scores, plus the pre-enlistment, means he's technically a 'voluntary', and he's already picked a service."

"What's really going on, Masterchief? They don't pull the Levies unless there's a war on, and I ain't seen shit about no war in the papers."  Vanh reproached the Coastie NCO.

"Re-up, and you'll find out." Cu'ong said, "or you can scan the paperblogs, This ain't goin' to be like hte Lyran war, or like Solaris-the big hats are scared shitless, but they're not telling us a god-damn thing in the Coast Guard, or the Army.  They're just firing off 'greetings from the Congress' letters, and sending guys like me out to collect strays that missed the mail...I can tell you this-they're loading ammo at the Tower, and supply ships have been crowding out civvie traffic both over Kowloon, and in the Belt...food, ammo, uniforms, they're ramping up for something big-whether it's something big coming at us, or not, nobody who knows is saying, and nobody who's saying, knows."

[Marlin]

Some time. Arluna.

These were Ezra's last days.

The last straw had been the maneuvers vs. some average UIW troops where his old guard was simply beat down. Of course they had been outnumbered as always, but it seemed their tactics and performance were declining rapidly. And Ezra was now over 75, which was ancient for any Warrior.

He knew that the Clan wished him to stay alive as long as possible, but enough was enough. The Farm put out a good amount of the liquid and it was to his successor to find a solution with Miranda, wherever she would be. He had not heard of her since 20 years and no one seemed to know.

The only thing known was that she had another great estate away from this land and it would probably not be used for much, lest the people could have told him about it.

For the last years, he had improved his forging skills and put together, after many trials, a good spear. He knew how his life should end.

It was stronger then the one he had used so long ago, the shaft was made of almost unbreakable plasteel wrapped in a coat of cloth for better grip. He would need a pistol and his backpack, because if he was to find another hog, he would have to travel quite far as they were seemingly brought close to extinction.

Only few of his staff knew about his plans and could not convince him to stay. Admittedly, being a freeman here, like Miranda was, would make life worthwile, however, he knew only his duties and his time was over. Too many scars and pain all of the time. Perhaps it was the easiest way out, he did not care anymore. He had cared for his Clan for all his life, now he cared only for himself.

A transport stood ready to take him to the south, where there was still much wilderness, despite repeated hunts, so he hoped to have a chance to meet his target.

***

"Fancy meeting you again, Colonel."  The transport was a tiny, turboprop driven STOL plane.  It was almost inevitable who was at the controls.

Laura Gammond had not had her scars fixed,  even the fingers were still missing.  "Strap in, we will be in the air for about nine hours."

"You retired." Ezra observed, "I heard they pulled your flight ticket, too."

"Nobody checks the Registry on Bush-planes, Colonel, and they did not pull my ticket-as for retirement, yes, thanks.  Fifteen years as a Governor of the biggest prison in human space is enough-it is someone ELSE's job to be the Warden now...your people said you wanted to check out Grid 2465 Southeast?"

The plane taxi'd down the narrow road segment.

"Is Miranda here?" he asked, "You are, after all..."

"Nobody has seen Dame Ortega since her boy went off to the Marines." Laura told him, "Doesn't mean she ain't here, but..."

The huge glassine canopy held the world close, even as the little airplane crept above it.

"Bush flying, how is it as a living?" Ezra asked.

"Who said I'm alive?" Laura replied, turning in the seat, and he could see...the shattered cockpit glass, the way that the debris had pulped her head, and the dirt...from the crash-site?

Water dripped onto his face, and he sat up from the jungle floor.  He'd been here for two days.  "Just a dream." Ezra muttered and coughed.  The temp gauge told him his body was running a temperature of 39.66 Degrees Celsius.  Fever dream.  The cuts itched in the damp.

Somewhere in the rainforest, was a grunting horror.  He'd been here, according to his PADD, three days.

"How did you get so old?"  he muttered to himself.

"Yeah, HOW did you get so old, Ezra? You're moving like a six foot bumble-bee."  Miranda seemed to be squatting on a low tree-branch, her funny little spear-the one she'd had when they went after El Jefe, laid across her thighs.  She looked the same as she had twenty years ago, tanned, young, and fit.

"I guess it just...happened."  Ezra said quietly, and she faded, another hallucination, likely caused by the infections.

[Marlin]

Slowly he got up. It was time to go hunting. And if he could hear at least, there was something out there. Gripping his spear 'How heavy this is.', and slowly marching on. He grinned wildly as every step put his resolve to a test. If he would not find something to fight soon, he would probably die. Two, three more days. Perhaps a couple more if he was careful. But what was the use of being careful. The feeling of standing against a beast, one on one was seemingly what he longed for since 20 years. The rumours that had spread about Miranda going out hunting Hogs made twisted sense, if she was half the woman she was back then.

Ah, Miranda.

The grunting grew louder, but not much else happened, so he walked on, slowly. He was close, he felt. Most thoughts were now in the back of his head, growing quieter. He gripped his spear with newfound energy and watched intently.

Would his Clan survive this new madness with the Falcons? Who knew, and it was not his problem anymore.

There, another terrible grunt. Was that hog alone? The smell of the air already changed. Adrenaline started  to pump in his veins. Now it was like 20 years ago. His Blade was on his back, the pistol ready and the backpack went to the ground. He nearly prayed to the hog to find him, to have one last stand. One glorious moment.

***

The rainforest felt different-colder now, and a bitter fog seemed to seep at the edges of his vision.  "There is a world within the world...within the worlds."   a shape he mistook for a twisted tree resolved.

It was the skeleton of a Battlemech.  Not a Battlemech, an OMNI-Mech.  It leaned drunkenly against a tree, streaked with corrosion and wrapped in vines, buried up to its knees in loamy earth.

But it could not be-because that 'Mech was back on Hector.  He remembered it there, a ruined sentinel on the training grounds.

There are worlds within worlds, within the worlds.  Where had he heard that? Something stubbed against his toe.

Pike Street NE . It was faded, corroded green plas with white letters, twisted metal of the post, and the forest seemed to form shapes. Shapes not replicated except in pictures of the Amaris War-the 'space needle', statues...wrapped in old, thick moss and undergrowth.  Empty skull eyes stared from overgrown rubble.

It was October, and he'd gone to meet the replacement garrison at the spaceport.  Governor Gammond had been there, and there was an accident...

"I never... made... it... to retirement."  A bubble of blood on her lips, Charlotte screaming orders at stunned port workers, the smell...

The dying woman had gripped his jacket, "There are worlds within worlds...within the world. ask Miranda, she will kn-" She'd died there...

"Woolgathering won't help." the heat washed back over him, and the signs were gone.  Miranda seemed to be standing near a broken tree-trunk.  "Come and see."

The underbrush seemed to open up, as if the world were moving to show him something...

The ruins were burned, and partially eaten by the jungle.

War machines lay shattered in ruins of civilian housing, and the bleached white of bone flashed in the green, leafy dimness, and the fog, that bitter fog, was closer at hand

The corpses...moved, and at the far side of the valley, the mists rolled inward, and he could hear the thunder of cloven hooves, the size of a man's head, coming toward him.

"It's not too late to walk away." Laura's voice hissed in the wind, "Don't let it bite you, it's rabid, and it likes the taste of flesh." Miranda's voice seemed to shake from the leaves and branches.

The mists thickened and it seemed the world grew darker, murkier, as the dead wept and coughed around him, crying for water and begging for relief.

The world within our world, is dying forever.

[Cannonshop]

Death of Adrian, 3091/03/22

Colonel Winslow Donovan squinted as he stepped out of the staff vehicle, and walked, limping, to the gate of the Clan-built command centre.  The facility here had been built to handle and house a great many more troops than the Spirit Cats had actually bothered to station on this world.  "Expect an insurgency, sir?" one of the NCO's with the Infantry Regiment asked.

"Not really." he replied, "The tech people from OSS been through yet?"

"No sir." 

"Let me know when they've done their sweep.  Dios what a clusterfuck this has been, I'd half expect that the Coasties could have taken this whole shithole system without us..."

[Cannonshop]

Government House, Grantsville, Union of Independent Worlds

"...are these reports for Real, Admiral?"  Debbie Mac, clad in a blue chambray workshirt and denim skirt, tossed a stack of PADD files on the desk beside the reader, "You seriously think Ah am gon' believe this shit?"

"Ma'am, first of all, yes, they are real, those are the conditions we've uncovered so far-it's all there, neglected infrastructure, lack of rebuilding, what you might call 'poverty' if you're being generous.  Seems the only areas with modern conveniences were isolated to higher-caste exclusive zones or critical military-linked industries."

She stared at him,  "Admiral, This is...unbelieveable, Ah've been to Sudeten, remember-Ah think ah know what the Clans' standahds are fo' handlin' lowah-Castes."

Admiral Michael Collins ran a hand through his no-longer-red fringe of hair.  "The reports are real." he told her, "The sociological reports are-"

"Disturbing?" Debra interjected, "Awful? Horrifying?" she added.

"Those would fit my thoughts-we're playing up the so-called riot at the Ration Centre and keeping the embeds away from zones where the worst of it is...but sooner or later, they're going to end up on a rotation into those areas."  He said, "unless you decide to restrict press access.  Personally, I think it would be a propoganda bombshell."

"No, Admiral Collins, it would be a Nuclear bomb-especially Engadine."  she told him, "Or Issaba, folks kind of would expect seein' that on a distant, isolated site like Death of Adrian, but those worlds were minimum 25th Century level tech before they were invaded, a regression that hard, especially with a higher-tech site like the Issaba Shipyards, that'd have people looking to expand the conflict.  We're already having quakes in our relations with the Ice Hellions over our involvement in this..."

"What about their attacks on the Jade Falcons?" Collins asked.

"Not a problem for us." Debra said, "Those're internal matters between Clannahs...if the Falcons want our help, they'll call on us, not that they would need it..."

"Not what I mean. Scuttlebutt has it that the Cats and the Hellions are close." he said, "Like you and...Khan Pryde used to be."

"That was personal." Deb said, "unless yo' suggestin' that the Cats 'n the Hellions are sleepin' together en-masse, it ain' got a connection, an' Clannahs don' see sex like we do-it would not stop 'm from beatin' shit outa each-othah if they WERE." she said with a wicked twinkle in her eyes.

Collins laughed, "Point taken, Your Grace.  Leaves a problem though-what do you want to do about the territory we've secured so far?"

"Sit on the reporters, Admiral, filter the news, keep it out of the press how bad things as they were WERE when we found 'em." she said, "Let the Terran newsies or the Lyran Newsies break the story first-Ah don't want to think about the complexity of reintegrating and uplifting that many billion people, or about how far the Kitties will go if they realize how potentially politically dangerous those conditions are on those worlds...meantime, Ah'll send some of these reports to Khan Pryde, maybe one'a his smart-boys can explain what's there, an' why, in a way that does NOT turn this into a war of morality-Moral crusades always end in sufferin' an' horrors, an' craziness-ah do not want that for us."

"Aye-Aye, Your Grace."

[Cannonshop]

...They do not preach that their God will rouse them a
  little before the nuts work loose.
They do not teach that His Pity allows them to drop
  their job when they dam'-well choose...
-Rudyard Kipling, The Sons of Martha

Mainstreet system, Contested zone...

It was a Yardship.  Lt. Commander(brevet) Amanda Ngo stood in the CIC of the former Spirit-Cat vessel.  She couldn't shake the feeling that, somehow, someone in the Navy's chain of command had made a mistake-Admiral Collins had, himself, personally, told her she would never command a fully jump-capable ship, so part of her felt like it had to be less-than real.

"Leutenant Wallace, is the inventory complete?" she asked, "Do we have a timeline for pulling in the yard-structures?"

"We do, ma'am...we can un-deploy in a few weeks."  Wallace was a Rockjack from the Boojum Belt in the Kowloon system-a lifelong spacer, and (at the direction of the Battlegroup Commander) her assigned XO and Navigation officer.

"Get the boys on it-we need to be ready for movement as soon as she's packed, Wallace.  Jones, what about our escorts?"  she turned to the Warrant officer assigned as both Comms, and coordination officer.

"They are supposed to arrive in a few days-we'll have cover until she's ready to go from the Battle Group...do we have a destination yet?" he asked.

"We're taking her back to the UIW, the exact destination's not been decided yet." Amanda told them, "But we ain't staying here."

[Cannonshop]

MacAulliffe Ranch, Arluna...

"Hayseed, you have to be the most gullible head of state ever."  Kelli Fitz, the director of the OSS, was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of lemonade.

the Archduchess let the insult slide-for now.  "Okay, so who's playing me a fool, then?" she asked.

Kelli ticked off on her fingers, "The Rockjacks, for starters." she said, "But it's Collins who's behind it-he wants you to escalate this, thinks we can win an all-out, probably has that Terrie officer he's liasing with feeding his ego."

"What's the real story?" Deb asked.

"Real story, is that things ARE bad-but they're bad everywhere." Kelli said, "Not as bad as they're claiming, but you gotta understand, it's a zero-sum game.  New Kerensky was a waterless rock, even when the Wolves were running it, they had to ship in water or drive deep wells, and Engadine's got soil and air problems-it was barely habitable under the Elsies, they did a hell of a lot of work just to make it liveable-there's a tradeoff for that kind of expense-they let the un-necessary systems drop a few notches, but they didn't leave those people to rot, and the evidence is how much more liveable both those rocks really are."

"and Issaba?" Debra demanded, "Did he just cook that out of vacuum?"

"Don't confuse twenty years of typical Clanner indoctination with brainwashing in the standard sense." Kelli told her, "Issaba wasn't exactly a 'garden spot' to begin with, and generally it's easier to implement major upgrades when your geology isn't trying to shake everyone's fillings loose every couple months.  Issaba's got a highly reactive crust and two moons, and a population that more or less resembles the Kowloonese without the addiction to violence or the Asian influences-the fact there ain't been a string of mass-executions speaks well of the restraint of the Clan authorities-they've got radical religious sects that pretty much ignored the last thousand years of human progress...and Death of Adrian's been a shit-hole since it was colonized.  Twenty years ago, they had barely half a million people living there, the Cats put that number up by a  thousand percent...it's not great but it's not the horrorshow the reports Collins is forwarding would make it out to be."

"So...my CNO, is lying to me." Debra growled, "That about it?"

"Sounds right." Kelli said, "I'd say it doesn't speak to his motives or his competence, but yeah, he's slanting his reports to create an impression...you wanna replace him?"

"I have to." Debra said, "I can't have senior military personnel telling me lies, or lying to congress, no matter how...'noble' their intentions."

[Cannonshop]

Press Room, Congress Building, Union of Independent Worlds, Grantsville, Arluna, May 2, 3091...

"...Congratulations to the upcoming royal couple, a merger between the Marians and the Lyrans is certainly big news.  We'll see if it is good news,  With any luck, the kids will get on just fine."  Debra put on a smile, and looked straight into the holochannel camera.  "Questions?" she asked.

"Archduchess, does this mean you expect a swift end to the war?"  Simeon Kachukin of Inarcs News Service asked.

"I expect we will find out soon enough."  She answered.

"How is this going to affect your campaign in the next election?" Jennings from Neerabup Broadcast asked, "Do you expect a strong post-war bump?"

"I expect the campaign will go to the best candidate." she answered, adding, "no, I do not expect a poll bump off this."

"Who's going to announce against you?" Leah Garten of Anembo Holovid asked.

"Well...you want predictions? okay...I expect that Admiral Collins is going to toss his hat in, maybe Gerald Schrakenberg too-he's got strong support in the Social Democrat party, and Collins is th' darling of the Belters an' Rockjacks.  Harriet Schoenberg's definitely a bet-her Lyran Reunification movement's got strong numbers, especially with the Expat community and the Royalists, and I figure Amanda Ngo's going to probably-if she decides to run, pick up strong Conservative and Independence party support, she's young, smart, and ambitious, so she's the one to watch in the primaries."  she leaned forward, "as for me, I'm not running-I've had enough with this job, and if nothing else, I think avoiding a Dynasty might be worth steppin' down come January of next year."

"Who's got your support, then?" Beeman Walters, Donegal Broadcasting, shouted his question over the shocked murmurs filling the room.

"I'm not going to name names, but y'all know I'm a Free Market Liberal with a Grange card-so it is not likely I'd throw my support to the Social Democrats or the Royalists."  she said, "we'll see which person is better suited once the campaign starts."

[Cannonshop]

UIS Fateshaper, prepping for movement, Mainstreet, Contested zone

"Lời chào, Joshua. Cái gì là bạn làm ở đây?."  Lt. Commander and Brevet Captain of the Yardship Amanda Ngo demanded.

"Sis, please, offworlders?" Marine Captain Joshua Ngo gestured, including most of the Navy, and captured Clanner, personnel in the bridge area.

"Okay, fine, what in hell are you doing here?" she repeated, in english, "Where is your unit, Marine? and more specifically, what in the hell possessed you to be in the exact same place I am, off-world, who's going to get it if we both get killed?"

Joshua, nearly tall enough to be an Elemental, with a physique to match, planted his feet on the deck, and looked down at his Sister.  "I would ask you the same thing-why did you transfer to a Reserve post, then use your buddies in the CNO's office to get activated and reassigned to a fleet group going into a combat zone? You're supposed to be finishing your Regular tour in a Staff billet-shore duty."  he looked around the cavernous bridge, "Instead, you're taking stupid risks, boarding actions? Really?  At least when I go out on Commando with the Recon boys, I'm properly trained."

She scowled up at him.  "They froze me out, Josh." she said,  "I'm off the Board of Directors, I'm about useless on Kowloon unless there's a sudden need to cut ribbons on another public works project-về nhà ngồi trên mông của tôi là không thể chấp nhận được."

The large man closed his eyes, "What is life without work..." he muttered, "You're not getting back on the board by coming out here to play space-navy."

[Cannonshop]

UIS Bunker Hill, command deck...

"Still waiting on confirmation, but it looks right now like Collins is out of a job."  Rear Admiral Xiaojung "Wendy" Perry crossed her arms, "Which leaves us with no CNO until his replacement's confirmed by Congress-and that, in turn, leaves me as the commander of the entire operation...just in time for unconfirmed reports that the Spirit Cats are pulling out of the Hegemony after getting their tails burned."

"Why unconfirmed? We've gotten both civilian and military feed showing it..." Captain Le Hong Dao of the UIS Lightning Strike asked, pulling a bulb of coffee from the dispenser. "Seems pretty obvious that's what they're up to..."

"Unconfirmed because while the Cats are announcing it, and the Press are announcing it, and even the bloody LYRANS are announcing it, our allies-the guys who sponsored this little trip-haven't confirmed it yet." Perry stated, "Hell, they haven't confirmed it isn't happening either, but we could end up left hanging either way-if we drive on with operations, and they did make a peace down there, that could screw us just as hard as if we refused to move under...other conditions."

"Options then?" Capt. Dao asked.

"Minimize casualties and drive forward with the mission until higher pulls the plug...and hope for the best."

[Daemonknight]

Arluna, Office of the Archduchess

Star Captain Melissa walked into the spartan outer-office and scrunched her nose at the wastefulness of the decor. Why were paintings, books, and all this needed? Was the Archduchess not simply a Khan? Did she require such opulence to operate? Once more, she wondered why the Khan had assigned her this duty. She didn't remember angering, or ever having met the man before. She mentally ran through her codex as she waited, and found she could not find a flaw that warranted such an honorless posting.

The receptionist finally set down the phone and asked what she could do for the Jade Falcon warrior.

"I am here to bring a request before the Archduchess, on behalf of Khan Brian Pryde. It is most urgent."

[Cannonshop]

Arluna, Office of the Archduchess

Star Captain Melissa walked into the spartan outer-office and scrunched her nose at the wastefulness of the decor. Why were paintings, books, and all this needed? Was the Archduchess not simply a Khan? Did she require such opulence to operate? Once more, she wondered why the Khan had assigned her this duty. She didn't remember angering, or ever having met the man before. She mentally ran through her codex as she waited, and found she could not find a flaw that warranted such an honorless posting.

The receptionist finally set down the phone and asked what she could do for the Jade Falcon warrior.

"I am here to bring a request before the Archduchess, on behalf of Khan Brian Pryde. It is most urgent."

Gloria looked up at the Falcon officer, then, keyed a pad.  "The Archduchess will see you in a mo-" the door opened and Deb's voice shouted, "Send her in."

"You can go right in, Ma'am." Gloria amended.


Debbie Mac's office was a study in what it takes to govern a nation with four major languages, a dozen major religions, a host of competing political factions, and a head-of-state that had to learn the job 'on the fly'.

A blood-and-other-things crusted claw hammer lay beside a pair of handcuffs on one shelf-along with a sharp hatchet, and a skinning knife.  "For settling disputes" was engraved on the backing of the shelf.  Deb hadn't had to use "Hillfolk Duelling" in a while now-most of the offworlders in Congress tended to learn about it from their colleagues, with the result that invitations to 'take it to the lawn' didn't happen anymore.

It only took three object lessons to get the idea across.

The paraphenalia was a stark contrast to the shelves packed with books on politics, economics, engineering, history, and philosophy that crammed shelves alongside stellar atlases, tactical and strategic dataroms, and language texts.  All the books had paper marks pushed haphazardly into them, marking off sections, and most had the look of being frequently referenced.  A holodisplay, probably the most 'modern' piece in the room, showed a three-dimensional tactical plot with 'best guess' locations of enemy units, and deployments of friendly naval forces.



There were no cushions in here, unlike the waiting room, and aside from the 'decadent' collection of written material, or the barbaric implements on the 'settling differences' shelf, there was stern, even austere nature to the (fairly cramped) office.  the room was lit by a single, bare bulb, supplemented by the light from the holodisplay and a small desk lamp-this was a room where work is done, not meant to be comfortable or in any way inviting to the occupant.

even the chairs here, unlike the outer office, were hard, wooden things, as if they were designed to be uncomfortable, and the three were identical-a hard seat for the Archduchess across a desk from two hard seats for anyone visiting.

"Star Captain." Deb nodded to her visitor, "What can I do for Khan Brian Pryde, and the Jade Falcon Clan?"

[Daemonknight]

"The Khan has a rather important request. Others in the Grand Council has expressed displeasure over his selling of the Obvious Lie to an Inner Sphere power. They have decided to launch a Trial of Poessession for the vessel, and charged him with ensuring you accept. I am here simply to convey the message, and return with a time and location for the Trial."

[Cannonshop]

"The Khan has a rather important request. Others in the Grand Council has expressed displeasure over his selling of the Obvious Lie to an Inner Sphere power. They have decided to launch a Trial of Poessession for the vessel, and charged him with ensuring you accept. I am here simply to convey the message, and return with a time and location for the Trial."

"time..." she reached over, and the holodisplay shifted.  "Ah can't fight it earlier than June-ship is under radio silence, and I assume they want it intact as soon as the trial is over."

She pursed her lips suspiciously, "and what is their counter-offer if we WIN?"

[Daemonknight]

Star Captain Melissa fought an urge to frown at the horrid butchering of her words, and thus remained silent for a few heartbeats. When she spoke again, it was with obvious tension in her voice.

"It is not for me, or my Khan, to negotiate the terms of the Trial. That must be between yourself, and the Snow Ravens. I am merely here to ensure that you do accept the Trial. It must be accepted before the terms can be worked out."