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Snippet #2663793

located in Beyond the Transcendence Rift, a part of Re-Union: The Expanding World, one of the many universes on RPG.

Beyond the Transcendence Rift

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Lilas


"Halt the course, put on the cloak, put on the modules necessary to make sure that they can't see, or even remotely guess as to where we are." Lilas said, his feet finally finding him at the entrance of the briefing room. He closed the channel to the bridge - confident that he'd relayed his order, and walked within. From now on, everything would have to go perfectly.

"Commander." Lilas said, giving a nod towards Graham as he swept an eye over the rest of the crew within the room. Most of them seemed to be within the commander's own squad, save for two, Athena - the pilot he had selected for her notorious record, and Petya, a choice he wouldn't have originally made, were the man and his significant pedigree not recommended to him. Time will tell if he ever lives up to it. "I'm assuming that these are the few you picked for renovation detail, am I correct?"

They all looked loyal. He wouldn't second-guess loyalty. Rogues were all-too-often a self-fulfilled prophesy in the Transcendent fleets. He would not see about adding to the problem by attacking their allegiances.

"Anything I say is not to be repeated, relayed, or hinted upon once you leave this room, understand?" Lilas said, his voice taking a careful edge as he surveyed those ahead of him. "Your purpose here was originally to disguise the Trials due to the recent skirmish. Events have changed, and you all will be performing a much more vital role. Instead, your previous task will serve as a cover for you to infiltrate Albion - for, as I'm sure you've either seen or heard now, that the same human vessel we clashed with is currently docked at Albion, for purposes unknown. This grants us a rare opportunity."

"Albion is a hive of rebels and rogues, human and transcendent alike. High command has been wanting to get rid of it. And, we also face the issue of the skirmish, and how High Command might brand us in order to appease human courts of law. We solve both issues today. You will enter the station, under guise to the inhabitants of Albion to be purchasing and evaluating parts for the overhaul. You will actually sew seeds of discord. Acts of sabotage. Anything to rise tensions between the Human and Albion crews. I am not talking about inciting a fist fight. I want drawn weapons, gunfire. Any goodwill between the crews completely severed."

"Meanwhile, the Trials will be hidden nearby, and using our equipment, we will send falsified transmissions between the station and our ship, painting the Trials not as a Transcendent vessel, but a captured rebel vessel, that was explaining a recent failed raid upon Proud for supplies. We will ensure that the 'skilled' technicians aboard the Organum are able to pick them up. This, combined with the conflict between Albion and the Organum that I am telling you to instigate, will paint the recent actions the Trials has taken as a failed attempt at gaining power and strength by Albion, who attempted to blame it upon the Transcendent navy. The Humans will drop blame towards us for the conflict, and High Command will get their justification to invade Albion once they've 'retaken' the Trials of Winter from supposed rebel hands.


His spiel complete - well, as much as he was willing to share. They knew quite more about the plan than most of his position would allow. But no sane commander would have told his subordinates about the tribunal - especially when the outcome of such an event decides not only their lives, but everyone aboard as well.

"For some of you, this will be a monument to already proven skills and cunning. For the rest, such a venture will prove a vital test, especially if one wishes to serve upon a vessel such as the Trials. Any questions?"


Amelia


Bing was already being placed within Hangar 3 once Amelia arrived. The technicians placed it only a few metres away from the shuttle that the rest would board - of which, only Alexander seemed to have shown already. The man must have made a beeline for the hanger, similar to Amelia. The others might be off getting together supplies, maybe weapons.

Amelia could feel the cold metal rungs - even through her gloves - on Bing as she clambered up it's side, slipping into the cockpit. She left it cracked open, as she liked putting her feet up on the lip of the cockpit and watching the technicians and engineers from what seemed like miles above. While she waited, she checked her Harbinger's systems (and noting with irritation, that the window crack hadn't been fixed yet,), the air tanks that kept her suit and the cabin pressurized, as well as the small emergency kit, which was surprisingly heavy for it's size, mostly for the small sidearm hidden within. A last resort if her Harbinger was disabled, apparently, although many pilots chose to carry the weapon with them upon their hips.

It would take at least ten more minutes for the others to arrive, so she leaned back in the cockpit, switched on some of her favorite music, and waited.