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The Multiverse

Setting



City of New Caprica


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New Caprica

A large Aschen ethnic enclave nestled within Asteria City, the sharp edged architecture reflects their ethnic designs.

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New Caprica is a part of Asteria City.


Setting

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Character Portrait: Rhea
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#, as written by Tiko
Rhea was seated at a small round table set just outside of a local cafe that bordered the pleasantly landscaped parks of New Caprica. An umbrella had been affixed to the table center to provide shade from the noon-day sun, and the air was clean and fresh with the faint floral scent of the nearby flowers.

Many who thought of New Caprica thought of the towering skyscrapers and corporate business offices, but it was just as well known for its scenic landscaping and recreational areas. She had never visited this particular region of Asteria before, but it was well reputed to be one of the safer boroughs of the city - for those with the money to live here. Everything had a clean, crisp look. A touch of Caprica right here on Terra.

For Rhea whom had spent a year on Langara, it wasn't difficult to note the similarities between the places. The people that predominantly made their home in New Caprica may have been born here on Terra, but their Aschen ethnicity and culture remained strong. New Caprica wasn't exclusively populated by those of Caprican ethnicity, but it didn't take a trained eye to note out the utter absence of non-humans in the area. It would seem that aspect of their culture remained as strong as ever. She herself blended well enough among the locals and no one payed her any mind. Service came easily and a cup of tea was set out on the table while she awaited the arrival of Malcolm Gregory - a local job applicant that had found its way across her figurative desk earlier this week.

The cup of tea sat half empty, but she seemed in no hurry. One leg was folded lightly over the other and she seemed content to simply enjoy the scenery until the man arrived.

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Character Portrait: Rhea Character Portrait: Sire Mollem McGregor
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The sun was high over the city, gleaming brilliantly from the glass and concrete that made up a majority of this district. Though it wasn't Asteria's police force as a whole that contributed to the safety of the district, but Aschen vigilante groups, moles, and the occasional confessor.

The words of the Tauron and Anquietas languages could be heard spoken fluently all around Rhea, people of various Aschen ethnicities carrying on about their daily business and paying no mind to the Prime Minister candidate. Not many of these ethnic Aschen kept up with Terran Politics, as evidenced by a large screen on an adjacent building showing the news from CAP12, an Aschen media channel based out of Caprica City.

A small park just across the street revealed two teams playing a game of Pyramid, the chirps of the referee's whistle, and the bouncing of a ball echoing through the street.

A well dressed man sat across the table from Rhea, neatly combed brown hair and a clean shaven face which was obscured by a pair of dark sunglasses, easy enough to hide from a crowd of people, but to those who knew him, the round face and overall smug look betrayed that this man was clearly not the man that crossed Rhea's desk.

"I'm the 'Malcolm Gregory' that you were supposed to visit." He said, taking off the sunglasses and setting them on the table.

"Leonis Spring water please." He ordered, and a few moments later a bottle of water was placed before him.

"For a place so far removed from the Empire, there's a strong sense of Aschen nationalism here." He said, taking a sip from his bottle.

"Hello, Rhea."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Rhea Character Portrait: Sire Mollem McGregor
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#, as written by Tiko
Rhea raised a brow to the man before her, but if she were troubled or alarmed she masked it well. She always did have a way of maintaining that picture of calm collectedness, regardless of the circumstances. It was the same face she wore when she stepped off her flight onto Langara, the same face she wore when the LDA had taken her into custody, and the same face she wore when Miles Hagan had betrayed his intents to have Leonus hunted down and killed. She wore it now for Mollem McGregor.

"Mollem," she replied. "I suppose I should have a word with my security personell on better screening job applicants," she remarked calmly.

She paused a moment as the Aschen Emperor's bottle of water was set out on the table, and didn't speak again until the one that had served them had moved on.

"I imagine if you went through all of this trouble, you want something. I don't suppose a phone call would have sufficed?" she asked.

Though she suspected he had chosen to come to her in person in the hopes of throwing her off guard. The question that lingered upon her thoughts was a simple one. Why?

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Character Portrait: Rhea Character Portrait: Sire Mollem McGregor
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The Emperor offered a disarming smile.

"I think your security personnel have nothing to worry about, You of all people should know by your dealings on Langara that if I wanted you dead. You would be dead." Mollem said flatly.

"Indeed I do, I wanted to discuss your election with you, you see; the Terran people aren't the only people you have to please." The Emperor explained, taking another sip from his bottle.

"I came here to speak to you in person, so that we could come to a... mutual understanding. Afterall, you're running an impressive campaign, and it'd be a shame if something happened to it."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Rhea Character Portrait: Sire Mollem McGregor
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#, as written by Tiko
"Indeed the people of Terra aren't the only ones I need to please," Rhea replied agreeably. "But you aren't currently one of them," she added. "Thinly veiled threats won't get you anywhere," she informed him pleasantly. "As I understand it, your recent return to power was orchestrated not by your own people, but by the UCON?" she inquired. "Word has it that your position remains precarious at best, and that your Empress is off gallivanting around Terra doing gods only know what."

Rhea shook her head. "No, it's not you I need to please," she reiterated. "Of course, you're probably already mulling over ways to quietly make me regret my words, and you may even try to have me killed for my audacity. You may even succeed. But in the end what will it gain you? Not a whole lot. A few moments of satisfaction and any hope of maintaining the precarious civility between Terra and the Aschen. Not because you may or may not be found out, but because I'm probably the only candidate for Prime Minister that views the Aschen Empire with a sense of amiability. Whoever takes my place will just as likely close the doors to your Empire and be done with it. So let's do away with such pettiness and get down to business."

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Character Portrait: Rhea Character Portrait: Sire Mollem McGregor
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The Emperor visibly scowled as Rhea swiftly rebutted him. "You say that I am not currently one of them. The question becomes if you will commit to that attitude when you lack the support of the Aschen community here on Terra. You see, they answer to me, to the Empire." He said, jabbing a finger at a concrete statue of the Divine Shadow.

"Ucon merely signed off on an Imperialist quorum that was set to oust the president and appoint a new Divine shadow anyway. An Imperialist majority that still holds, and an Empire that's never been more unitied." The Emperor claimed, while downing another sip of his water.

"I would take care to listen to opposition groups within the Empire as well, their heresy knows no bounds." He said, pulling a briefcase out and setting it on the table.

"And we both know that any further hostilities between my two people would only result in more Terran suffering, while Imperial citizens continue to live being spoon fed Imperial propaganda." Mollem said, flipping the latch and opening the briefcase.

"You spent time on Langara, you of all people should know how much Langarans are groomed to hate Terrans."

"And whoever takes your place would just as quickly die at the hands of a Confessor." As he opened the briefcase, he withdrew a manila folder.

"In a nutshell I'm not here to satisfy my own desire to see you killed or this planet burned, I'm on Quorum business. This is the proposal for a permanent peace framework that I want introduced into your Parliament following the elections. If you choose not to do it, I have people who can, in similar political positions."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Rhea Character Portrait: Sire Mollem McGregor
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#, as written by Tiko
Rhea slid the offered folder to the side for the time being, to be examined later.

"I will review the proposal, but if it is presented to Parliament it will be because I approve of it," she told him. Her eyes found his and her expression was unwavering as she met his gaze directly while they spoke.

"I am more than willing to work with you, and the Aschen government. My year on Langara is testament to that, but I will not be a puppet to your machinations either."

She had her doubts as to his ability to instate a puppet should anything happen to her. Mollem, and his predecessors, had long failed to understand the nature of Terra, and she didn't believe that had changed in recent times. He could kill as many Prime Minister's as he wanted, but at the end of the day it would get him nowhere. No, she was likely his best bet to get his proposal set before Parliament.

"This is of course banking on my winning the election," she remarked.

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Character Portrait: Rhea Character Portrait: Sire Mollem McGregor
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The emperor offered little more than a subtle grin.

"I am certain that winning the election will be no problem for you, You're a capable statesman." He said, finishing the last of his water.

"I have something else, an Imperial Embassy in wing city, sovereign Aschen soil for tourists and ethnic citizens, and a place to streamline the visa application." Mollem said. "Ensure these two conditions are met, and I'm sure you will have no problem with the Empire." Mollem added, pushing the chair back.

"I thought you would have learned from your time on Langara that I hold all the cards, within the Empire and beyond. Regardless, I will be watching the coming elections intently, and in earnest."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Tiko
Down by the shipyards the excited shouts that reached the docks outside of the warehouse were a pale comparison to the energy and atmosphere of the interior. The place was packed with the press of sweaty bodies all jostling for a spot closest to the crude fight ring where Adriaan was engaged in a brutal, and illegal, no-holds barred fight.

Adriaan's opponent raised an arm up to block a kick from the avorian monk, but Adriaan's leg slipped under, connecting with his opponents ribs. With his opponent dazed and with the wind knocked out of him, Adriaan stepped in and slammed his elbow into his face. Unrelenting he continued to push the offensive and drove a kick into the man's midsection that staggered him back.

The man gave a snarl and took a wide swing for the side of Adriaan's head. Raising his arm up, Adriaan caught his opponents blow against his forearm before thrusting his other hand forward in an open palmed strike for the man's sternum.

As his opponent was sent stumbling back once more, Adriaan finished him off with a solid roundhouse kick to the side of his head that sent him sprawling into the floor where he lay groaning.

Cheers and shouts went up all around as money began to exchange hands.

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Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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Everything in the fighting ring seemed to reach a fever pitch with the Avorian and the opponent fighting. But everything was ground to a screeching halt as police cars crept in and around the warehouse, and cops kicked in the door and began to storm the place.

There were shouts, chaos, guns pulled as officers swarmed the interior of the fight ring. Spectators and fighters alike were being pulled away and thrown to the ground.

Adriaan was no exception, grabbed by at least four officers, he would likely find his hands quickly ziptied behind his back as the Officers carried about their business.

Many of the officers in the room were Terran, enforcing Terran law, but these particular officers lacked the blemishes and the general attitude that Terran cops had.

These two men were unmistakable ethnic Aschen. One a tattoo'd Tauron male, and the other a Caprican, both of them regarded the Avorian with contempt as he was taken back to the patrol car.

Everything seemed to go by rather quickly, until the police car came to a stop, and the Tauron Officer opened the back door.

"So, you like to fight huh birdman?" He said, chuckling as the Caprican rounded the car, and pulled out his baton.

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Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Tiko
"Hey now fellas... I'm not looking for anymore trouble..." Adriaan said.

This didn't look at all promising, but he kept that jovial nature about him as he peered out at the Tauron Officer from inside the car.

"No hard feelings, eh?" he asked.

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Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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The Tauron officer gave a laugh, and then turned to his partner. "Quis non vult malum." He said in Anquietas, before the Caprican reached in and grabbed Adriaan.

"You fucking Terrans are all the same; filthy godsdamned mutants." He said, moving to yank Adriaan out of the car while the Tauron Officer moved to swing his baton across Adriaan's back.

"I thought this place would be different, I left the Empire to deal with filthy punks like you who don't know how to obey the gods damned law!"

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Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Tiko
Adriaan let out a sharp hiss of breath as the baton struck him across the lower back, taking him to his knees. With his arms restrained he had no means of defending himself from the blow.

The jovial look was gone from his face, and his legs tensed. As the officer raised the baton for another blow, he shoved himself up and into the the officer, shoulder first to slam him back into the side of the vehicle.

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Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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The Officer was knocked back from the blow, and the Caprican struck Adriaan several times in the back of the legs with his baton as he tried to fight. The Tauron had the wind knocked out of him, but that only made him all the more angry.

"You wanna fight cops? You dumb mother fucker!" And now both of them would start wailing on Adriaan with their batons, blow by blow, while the Caprican tried to pull Adriaan to the ground.

"Assaulting a police officer!? You're all sorts of stupid birdman!"

"Take your fucking medicine mutant!" They shouted, while they continued to try and wail on him with their batons, likely with bone crushing force.

The more Adriaan fought back, the more intense the beating became, Batons turning to fists and kicks, until the Tauron Officer finally drew his pistol and held it to Adriaan's head.

"You wanna die motherfucker!?" He said, pressing the pistol into his head. "One bullet and I plant a gun on you, no one's going to save your mutant ass."

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Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Tiko
Adriaan let out a gargled cough as he spat a gob of bloody spit out onto the pavement before he felt the pistol press to the side of his head. He tried to get one knee under himself to get back to his feet, but there was an officer there to throw him back to the ground again, and this time he didn't rise as he lay there on his side.

His body was wracked with pain, and his face bloodied. His vision swam as he stared at the feet of one of the officers, only vaguely aware of the cold press of the gun to his head before he lost consciousness.

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Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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The Officers scoffed, and then they slowly hefted him back into the patrol car. "Take him to the hospital, He was resisting arrest." They both agreed on a cover story to file in their reports, and the whole thing was agreed upon as to having never happened.

Adriaan would be taken to the hospital, where he would be kept under lock and key until charges could be filed. Of course, word of his assault was likely to get out, and spread through the city like wildfire.

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Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Tiko
When Adriaan woke, one eye was swollen shut so thoroughly that he couldn't see out of it, and his vision in the other was blurry. He blinked a few times, aware of a distant pain that was slowly making itself known through the haze of his grogginess. He had suffered numerous bone fractures from the beating, and his jaw was swollen and taped in place to keep him from moving it until surgery could repair the jaw fracture. One wing was tightly bound as well to immobilize it and to prevent further damage from the numerous fractures it had sustained until he was more stable.

He tried to raise an arm to his face to shield his eye from the light overhead that was blurring his vision, but the movement was drawn short as he realized he had been physically restrained to the hospital bed.

He lay his arm back down and his eye blinked closed a few times as he felt sleep retaking him. The IV in his arm was keeping him heavily sedated, but he could hear someone calling his name as the doctor tried to rouse him for the police to question him about last nights incident.

He tried to answer the voice, but the pain in his jaw exploded to life and he groaned.

"He won't be able to talk, but you can ask him some questions. Just make it quick," a doctor was saying to the officers in the room.

Fortunately for the officers responsible for the assault, Adriaan had been arrested for street fighting and they had claimed many of his more serious injuries a result of his fights that night. The injuries inflicted by their batons had been explained as a necessary retaliation to him attempting to assault them after his arrest.

Also working in the officers favor was the fact that he was an avorian, and an illegal from Volaria from the look of it. With TNG and Shintenchi relations strained as it was... the case wasn't getting the attention it should have received. Though once his identity was revealed to the general public, it had the potential to fan the flames growing between the Aschen immigrants and the TNG natives of Asteria City.

These incidents where cropping up all over the city as of late, and New Caprica Police Precincts where becoming a common topic of the mornings headlines. Just last week a Terran born woman had been beaten and raped after being pulled over for a traffic violation, and last month a man had been hospitalized after a vicious beating during an arrest on suspicion of assaulting a Caprican woman which he was later acquitted of. Two months ago it was vandalism as a pair of New Caprica Police Officers trashed the business of an uncooperative Terran, in full view of witnesses - none of whom would testify on the matter.

In all cases, the lack of evidence, lack of voices willing to testify, or simply the lack of money to afford lawyers to match those of their assailants had resulted in the little action being taken against the New Caprica Police. With much of the police force and infrastructure of New Caprica maintained by ethnic Capricans, the neighborhoods of New Caprica were proving to be increasingly hostile towards other ethnic divisions.

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Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Tiko
The drone of hospital equipment silently echoed through the room where Adriaan was being treated. The Doctor had just finished his rounds, letting a Detective take the questioning. The Detective himself was a young male of Gemonese descent, having emigrated to Asteria from the Empire to escape religious persecution from the Ordo Hereticus.

In his mind, he blamed Terrans for the rise of the Empire itself, and held great distaste for them.

"You're in a lot of trouble, Birdman." The Detective said, going over the charges.

"Resisting arrest, street fighting, assaulting an officer..." He said, shaking his head.

"We're going to throw you in a deep, dark hole and you're never going to see the light of day."

Adriaan watched the detective silently, struggling to remember the events of the night prior. His thoughts where muddled and sluggish from the sedatives.

After a few moments, the Detective handed Adriaan a pen and paper.

"I'm going to need your Confession, now."

Adriaan continued to watch the detective silently before finally shifting his hand slowly to take the pen. Every moment was agony as he started to scribble down a note on the paper.

It read simply: What happened.

"I already told you what happened, you were arrested for fighting, and then you decided to try and fight with some cops." The Detective responded. "They also found this on you." He said, holding up a vial of yellow-green liquid, that had a bright almost fluorescent kind.

"You know what this is?"

Adriaan shook his head. His hand hovered over the paper, but he was having difficulty formulating memories from the previous night.

He finally scribbled down a second note: I don't remember.

"This is some heavy stuff." The Detective said. "Pattern... kinda hard to get in these parts." He said, narrowing his eyes.

"You're looking at a lot of jail time."

Adriaan pushed the paper slightly towards the Detective, to emphasize the second note.

"You're full of shit." The Detective said with a scowl. "Let's see... You're Adriaan Kavaki.." He said, going over the ID Documents. "Native of Volaria... maybe we should deport your ass back there, after you do your time here, of course."

He nodded his head, affirming his identity to the detective before closing his eye briefly. He was exhausted and the lights overhead where painfully bright, and leaving him nauseated.

He hesitated a moment before, before jotting down another word on the paper. Patronus.

He knew not what bearing the word would have on the Detective, or his current predicament though.

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Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Tiko
The Detective scowled before he handed back the piece of paper. "Patronus? This will be even better!" He laughed before he turned to one of his other officers, and the pair shared a chuckle.

"How would the Patronus like to hear about how you fought two cops, and were slinging dope in Asteria City? I thought they stood for shit like truth and justice." He said, pointing to the paper.

"You're going to remember what happened, and I'm going to damn make sure of that."

Adriaan looked at the indicated paper before gave the Detective a questioning stare. He finally slid the paper, still blank, back towards the Detective before reaching a hand towards the button to summon a nurse.

When the nurse came, a Police officer blocked her entrance, and the Detective gave a glare back to Adriaan, before he kinked one of his IV Fluids, which was providing vital medicine to him.

"Oops..." The Detective said, before he slid back the paper.

"You got busted from a fight, an illegal fight I might add before you decided to resist arrest and fight two cops, and then, we found this vial of Pattern on you." He said, pointing to the paper.

"Fess up and things will go a lot smoother for you."

Adriaan's eye shifted to the IV and back to the detective, then to the paper and the pen in his hand. There was a sense of unease writhing in the pit of his stomach as he hesitated...

"Tick tock." The Detective said.

Still Adriaan made no more to write the requested statement, and he looked to the doorway where an officer was arguing with a nurse. The monitors showed an elevation in heart rate.

The Detective scowled, and then snatched the paper.

"If that's how you want to be? I'm going to throw the book at your birdie ass! You think the DA Will cut you a deal? Fat chance." He said, letting the IV Unkink, before he turned to the officer. The Nurse and the officer were still arguing, and so the Detective closed the curtain, and wrapped his hand firmly around a part of Adriaan's wing that wasn't wrapped up, and he began to tug, not enough to cause further damage, but perhaps enough to cause excruciating pain.

"You know, in the Empire they like to chop off your wings. That's what I hear."

Adriaan grit his teeth, which sent an explosion of pain through his jaw along with the broken wing. He hissed deeply and he twisted to grab the Detective's arm, but his wrist was still restrained to the hospital bed and the restraints brought his arm up short.

To the side of his bed, the heart rate monitor was spiking and his vision swam as he bit off the sounds of pain that threatened to bubble up from his throat.

The point was made though.

The echo of the pain lingered long after the Detective released his wing, and his hand shook as he began to write.

I am guilty of the following. Unsanctioned street fighting, resisting arrest, attacking a police officer, and distributing Pattern.

He scribbled his signature on the bottom of it before sliding it towards the detective silently.

The Detective took the statement and then turned to the officer.

"We'll be in touch." He said, before he turned to leave.