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Subject: "(EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return"     Previous Topic | Next Topic
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Apr-23-07, 09:55 PM (EDT)
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"(EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return"
 
   Two weeks passed in a blur of purposeful activity. As theorized, the combined resources of Battlegroup Quevillon, the Frank Lloyd Wright, the Mars Division, and the Southern Cross Crusaders proved up to the task of securing the Zeta Cygni solar system. GENOM probes were found and deactivated. A GENOM listening post was quickly and quietly subdued before its staff could get out word to their parent company. Random vagabonds and other persons of dubious moral character who had been hiding in Zeta Cygni's asteroid belt were flushed out and apprehended.

By the time of midnight on the third of June, Zeta Cygni could be considered "secured", "under control", and "restored to proper ownership."

Now, all that was left was the waiting.

Thursday, July 4, 2374
Zeta Cygni System
Cygnus Sector
1100 hours GST

R-minus 01:00:00.00

Emilia Sterling sat in the captain's chair on the bridge of the Frank Lloyd Wright, studying the master display projected from the bridge's forward holotank. The past day and a half had been busy, as Xeralia deployed the rest of her battlegroup's ships in a spherical array 20 astronomical units from Zeta Cygni proper, and both the battlegroup and her own starship had launched a multitude of probes to lurk five AU away from the star. This had been decided in order to optimize the amount of data being gathered in the space around Zeta Cygni. With the amount of coverage that this arrangement granted, it was hoped that they would be able to pick up the anticipated spacefold signatures, determine where the Kridanik Fleet was arriving, and intercept them with intent to assist, without having to wait several hours for the actual light and gravity effects of the fold to reach the waiting ships.

There had been some debate on whether or not to use the probes at all; the starships that now loosely enclosed Zeta Cygni space possessed powerful subspace sensors of their own, quite capable of reading fold signatures from hundreds of AU away. But after some consultation between Dr. Louie Nichols and Engineer Testarossa of the Voronda Elendil, the primary space engineers aboard the Frank Lloyd Wright, and the lead battle technicians of Battlegroup Quevillon, it had been decided it would still be worthwhile to have sensors closer to the star to catch any anomalies and relay the information back to the fleet at superluminal speeds. They had no idea how far away the Kridanik Fleet would be arriving from, or what their state would be when they arrived at Zeta Cygni. Better to risk the damage or outright destruction of the probes due to a misfold or other calamity than the occupied ships of the fleet.

Now the Frank Lloyd Wright, the Voronda Elendil, and Xeralia's command ship, the Quelquira-Nuur, floated together in loose formation. In front of them, the Southern Cross Crusaders hovered in space, serving as the point element in case things got hairy in the next few hours. The Cianbro starship was serving as the primary nexus for data collation among the small fleet of ships and probes that hovered, watching and waiting for anything to occur.

Mylene Sterling entered the bridge with her guitar on her back and Guvava on her shoulder. "Well, Emi, the Flarefire's prepped and ready to go if we need it," she said, and then pulled up short at the sight of the gigantic image projected by the tank. She whistled softly at the sight. "Whoa. Now that is impressive."

Emilia glanced back, and smiled. "Isn't it, though? Usually the main tank is used to provide real-time observation of the overall progress on the build site, but the network it's connected to is quite capable of coordinating strategic and tactical input as well."

"I wasn't whistling about that, sis." Mylene grinned. "I've seen my share of holotanks in my time. But can you imagine what sort of music videos you could make with a setup like that?"

Emilia rolled her eyes. "Bah. Go and take a seat, we've still got little under an hour to go before we hit R minus zero."

Chuckling to herself, Mylene did as she was asked, found a seat at an empty executive station, and noodled around with some chord progressions to pass the time.

R-minus 00:31:15.06

On the bridges of the Voronda Elendil and the Quelquira-Nuur, the situation was much the same. Technicians, tacticians, and scientists ran double-checks on the probe network and the inputs from the ships, verifying that there would be almost no transmission lag when the event occurred. Combat divisions were held at standby, for the possibility of providing combat or rescue assistance for the returning fleet. Engineers kept a close eye on their starships' systems, while the helmsmen for each ship stayed on alert, ready to carry out their commanders' instructions in an instant as soon as they gave the order.

And throughout the ships and waiting fightercraft, people passed the time as best they could, to distract themselves from what might lie ahead.

Down in Hangar Three on the Voronda Elendil, a man with a mullet was playing a guitar.

He was doing quite well, and he sang with a clear, practiced voice. His song was a little bit blues, a little bit soul, and a lot improvised -- but despite all this it helped lift the spirits of the mechanics and technicians who were going over last-minute safety checks of the Destroids in the hangar.

Easin' down the highway in a new Cadillac
I had a fine fox in front, I had three more in the back
They sportin' short dresses, wearin' spike-heeled shoes
They smokin' Lucky Strikes and wearin' nylons too
'Cause we bad - we're nationwide
Yeah we bad - we're nationwide

"OI! Weber! Get your ass off that crate and get back to work!" bellowed a deep, grizzled voice from across the hangar. Apparently not everyone was appreciative of a little ZZ Top right at the moment.

The blonde man rolled his eyes, pausing in his playing. "Hey, can't you let a guy finish his song, Gron?"

"Not unless you want your Destroid to end up face-down in the deck, Weber," grunted the Voronda Elendil's Karbarran maintenance engineer. "Now pack your rig and go help Mao, she's securing your ride's ammo bins."

"Right, right..." Weber shook his head, unstrapped his guitar, put it in its tritanium case (it was a Gibson Les Paul he'd gotten from his father), and went off to stow his gear before getting back to work.

R-minus 00:05:22.32

Xeralia Sterling, Vice Admiral commanding Meltrandi Battlegroup Quevillon, sat in her command chair, watching the various displays and screens that reported on the status of her fleet, her siblings' ships, and the probes that were arrayed around the star. There was a deep, subsonic murmur across the vast expanse of the Quelquira-Nuur's bridge, produced by the voices of a multitude of Zentraedi and Meltrandi officers and technicians going about their duties.

"R-minus five-zero-zero, Vice Admiral," boomed the voice of Xeralia's executive officer, who stood next to her. Well, more correctly, loomed over the vice admiral, who was currently micronized.

She looked up at her exec and nodded. "Won't be too long now," murmured Xeralia, intently studying the main viewer, as if she could summon the Kridanik Fleet... and her parents... by will alone. She shifted in her seat, still getting comfortable. Xeralia didn't usually use this chair; for most day-to-day operations, she was a full-sized Meltrandi, and used the usual command podium. But on this ship, and others, the Zentraedi had slowly adapted, making provisions for their Micron allies.

"R-minus three-zero-zero. You'd best strap yourself in, Vice Admiral."

Xeralia nodded again, double-checking the command chair's all-points harness. The last thing she needed was to end up tossed off the command platform. It was a long damn way down to the gallery floor at this size.

R-minus 00:01:31.46

The loose aggregation of Zentraedi starships, the long mass of the Cianbro Corporation's Architect-class constructor ship, and the narrow slab of the Mars Division's Ikazuchi-class battlecarrier floated in space, their running lights lit up and signal beacons blinking. The fighters of the Southern Cross Crusaders held formation in front of the lead starships. Almost the entire fleet could be felt to be holding its breath with anticipation as the mission counter blurred down to the final seconds.

R-minus 00:01:03.02
R-minus 00:00:45.21
R-minus 00:00:27.50
R-minus 00:00:11.32

There was a pause...

R-minus 00:00:00.00

... and a sum total of nothing visible happened.

R-plus 00:01:05.55

"Well. That was... anticlimactic," Maia Sterling commented from the bridge of the Voronda Elendil.

"Well, you need to realize, Commander, that even if the fold effect had started just moments ago, it will still take a few minutes to be picked up by even our innermost probes," Dr. Nichols pointed out from his sciences station. "I am seeing some very interesting subspace modulation effects, though."

"Oh really?" Maia dryly replied. Despite herself, she was curious as to what her chief engineer had found out; but by this time, her natural reaction to Louie's occasional theoretical tangents carried a healthy amount of dry sarcasm.

"Yes!" Nichols replied, taking Maia's words as a confirmation of interest. He tapped some controls, bringing up readouts on the main viewer. "As you can see here, we're getting some variances in the local subspace flux - not enough to disrupt any propulsion systems or communication transmissions - but they're so spread out, that at first I thought it was a natural phenomenon."

Miranda Sterling spoke up. "And it's not?"

"Negative. Nothing in our databanks, or the past two week's scans, indicate anything of the sort for the Zeta Cygni system. The only significant modulations have been traced to our own ships' systems."

"Huh." Maia considered this, glanced at Miranda (who shrugged), and then to the side at her executive officer. He gave her a minute dry look from behind his rectangle-cut glasses, as if to say, "I have no more of an idea than you do, Commander."

"Fat load of help you all are," Maia muttered under her breath, sagging back in her seat.

R-plus 00:04:33.19

On the bridge of the Frank Lloyd Wright, the situation was much the same.

"Where's the kaboom? I was expecting an Earth-shattering kaboom, Emi," Mylene quipped, still sitting at her appropriated station. Emilia glanced back at her sister.

"To be honest, I'd rather avoid any kabooms, baby sister," she replied. "Still, you'd think the probes could pick up at least something, they've got subspace-based sensors, too." She frowned as she studied the ship and probe telemetry that was being displayed on the holotank. In it, Zeta Cygni I, Zeta Cygni II, and their shared asteroid belt placidly continued to orbit their star. Icons represented the spread-out ships of the fleet task force. Everything looked normal and, if Emilia was being totally honest, boring.

The only thing of any note was the aforementioned subspace modulation effects reported by the Voronda Elendil. Emilia considered them on the display as the data was echoed across the network, to be studied by those who had a better mind for such things. According to the readouts, they were rather subtle, but even so...

"Crusader Eight, a question."

"Go ahead, Frank Lloyd Wright," Therèse Sterling replied.

"Those subspace modulations... Could they have affected the sensitivity of the probes?"

"Probably not. The modulations I'm picking up from my own sensors are way below error tolerances, and as Dr. Nichols said - "

R-plus 00:06:51.01

Therèse paused and rechecked the displays in her Seeker Valkyrie. "Wait one, Wright. I'm starting to receive the telemetry from the first group of probes. ... Yes, they're starting to pick up a change in the local gravimetric flux. Forwarding data to you now."

An audible sigh of relief could be heard over the fleet's shared channel. "Finally. How're they looking, Crusader Eight?" asked Emilia.

"They're reading a steady increase, as we expected for a standard fold event. We'll probably start getting visual data in ten, fifteen minutes." Therèse paused and checked a second readout. "Hold on - "

"What is it?" interjected Maia.

"The flux is continuing to rise, according to the probes. Quelquira-Nuur, what's your probe network status?"

On the bridge of her own battlecruiser, Xeralia turned and barked out some (amplified) commands to her technicians. She quickly got an answer, even as the bridge's forward display updated with the same information. She blinked, frowned, and answered, "Frank Lloyd Wright, Crusader Eight, the other ships are reporting similar gravity changes from their own portions of the probe network. Request you confirm, Wright."

Emilia's brow furrowed. She got up from her seat to take a closer look at the master display. She studied the small datapoints that indicated the locations of the probes in the network - they were all functional and relaying data, displaying various statistics in nearby floating boxes. The numbers for gravimetric distortion were slowly, but steadily, rising.

Uniformly.

That wasn't supposed to happen, as far as Emilia knew. Even a single-ship fold maneuver would cause greater fluctuations in one area, but leave the others undisturbed. A 10,000-ship mass fold would just be larger in magnitude, affecting the closest probes most drastically and the others lagging behind as the gravitational distortion rippled through the system.

For all of them to be reading nearly identical gravity fluxes at once...

"Observation confirmed, Quelquira-Nuur," Emilia answered. "Gravitational flux is increasing across the probe network at a steady rate. About... 33 percent of them have already passed the one-ship fold displacement threshold. The rest are following."

"That doesn't sound good," Mylene quietly opined from her seat. She scratched Guvava, who had picked up on his mistress's nervousness.

R-plus 00:08:23.17

"Observation confirmed, Wright," replied Therèse. She toggled some switches, changing the modes on her active scanners to focus fully on the local environment. She tasked one screen on her MFD to mirror the probe status information that was being gathered by the Frank Lloyd Wright.

She frowned, studying the mirrored telemetry, even as her own readouts began to read minor fluxes in the local gravity gradient. The values from the probes continued to rise, passing the expected 10-ship and 100-ship distortion thresholds within seconds. The entire event was taking place far too fast for her comfort; given the distances involved, the Crusaders should not have felt or seen anything locally in real-time for hours.

Therèse was about to comment on this to the rest when something new on her MFD brought her up short and interrupted her thoughts. She watched, first with puzzlement, and then a growing sense of dread, as the video signals from the probes began to change. Normally, the gravitic displacement generated by a spacefold, even one of ten thousand ships, would have been insufficient to distort the starlight around them. Even an entire star's gravity well only distorted some of the closest passing beams of light from its distant neighbors, and this could easily be accounted for.

But this was as if somebody had dropped a bowling ball onto the surface of a clear pool, sending the entire image of Zeta Cygni, its planets, and the stars beyond rippling and jumping about. Coronas of light and shadow traced the edges of the system, and with a start, Therèse realized what the probes were observing. Her own sensors began registering some new information in turn, which confirmed her theory, as outlandish as it seemed.

"Crusader Eight to all ships! Crusader Eight to all ships! Spacefold in progress around Zeta Cygni - I repeat, spacefold ENCOMPASSING ZETA CYGNI!"

Before Therèse Sterling could register any astonished replies from the rest of the fleet, the probe cameras became overwhelmed by erratic visual data, and their gravimetric readings shot straight up into the red.

R-plus 00:11:41.52

Louie Nichols spun his seat to look at Maia Sterling. "Commander! The probes have gone beyond their maximum performance tolerances! Gravity and light distortions are going off the scale!"

"I see it, I see it!" Maia rejoined. "Never mind the probes, Louie, keep track of us!"

"On it!" Nichols turned back to his console, his datagoggles flickering and flashing with extra data streams as he plied his keyboards. "Local gravitic flux increasing, much higher and sooner than normal. I'm beginning to get debris movement in the Kuiper Belt from tidal effects!" The Voronda Elendil began to shudder as the gravity waves warped the local space, making it difficult for the ships to stay upright and level relative to each other.

Grimacing, Maia spoke over the all-call. "Voronda Elendil to Quelquira-Nuur! Pull away from the Frank Lloyd Wright! Crusader One, watch out for potential collisions!"

Komilia grunted and bit back, "Tell me something I don't know! Crusaders, break formation and evade! Break and evade!"

Maia, Miranda, and their bridge crew watched the Voronda Elendil's main display as the pinpoints of light that represented the exhausts of the Southern Cross Crusaders spiraled away to the sides. They flew crazily, not through any fault of the pilots, but due to the radical shifts in spacetime they were forced to ride out.

Miranda gasped, pointing at the display. "Look!"

Maia stared, not quite registering what she was seeing, but unable to deny it.

Zeta Cygni was starting to flicker out. Not due to a thermonuclear foul-up, which at this point would have been almost welcome as a sign of a return to normalcy, but due to the severe disturbances occurring all across the system. What made matters worse was that this image was not coming from the probes. The images were coming live and direct from the starship's own cameras and sensors. Whatever was happening out there was clearly so powerful that it was warping time itself, creating the natural equivalent of a subspace carrier wave - allowing light from the event to reach them much sooner than it should have.

"Subspace rupture!" Nichols yelled, somehow managing to sound terrified and enraptured at the same time. "Spacetime disruption impact in eight seconds - mark!"

Maia snapped the arms of her command chair closed around her and jammed her thumb down on the all-call. "Sound collision alert! All hands, assume crash positions! All ships, BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

If the first minutes had been like a bowling ball dropped onto a pool, the main event was as if somebody had dropped a wrecking ball onto a lake. Sirens flared and lights dimmed as the gravity tide hit the Voronda Elendil and the other ships head on. Main drives flared to full power, trying to stabilize the individual ships of the fleet, and only succeeding in straining the starships more. Ominous creaks and groans echoed through their hulls. Smaller protrusions, such as many of the whiplike sensor masts on the Zentraedi ships, were snapped off outright.

Xeralia Sterling grabbed desperately onto the arms of her own seat, strapped in but not doing any better than her full-size Zentraedi officers. She hit the emergency broadcast button on her armrest, immediately tasking the most powerful transmitters on her flagship to punch a broadcast to the other starships, through the growing distortions surrounding them.

"Quelquira-Nuur to all ships! Divert all power to inertial dampers and vector control systems. Divert all power to inertial dampers and vector controls! Keep your bows toward the star! Ride the waves, don't fight them!"

The helmsmen of Battlegroup Quevillon, the Voronda Elendil, and the Frank Lloyd Wright didn't need to be told a third time. The ships tossed and rolled like sailing vessels in a raging storm, but thanks to Xeralia's command, they were not smashed outright. Bridge displays went crazy as the virtual 'horizon', which had been drawn level with Zeta Cygni's ecliptic plane, oscillated wildly. Those who were able to keep their eyes on the monitors (and still had the stomach for it) watched with growing horror and fascination as the space around the star and first two planets buckled and warped. Every crease in the fabric of reality bulged and rippled, the familiar glows of spacefold amplified and distorted into impossible colors, rapidly building towards a crescendo.

There was an abrupt, glaring FLARE of light...

R-plus 00:15:00.00

... and Zeta Cygni completely vanished.

R-plus 00:16:05.03

Groaning, Emilia Sterling forced her eyes to open. Her mind scrambled for awareness, but it was reluctant and slow to come. Part of her was amazed that she was still alive; the rest of her dryly noted that she wouldn't be in so much discomfort if she were dead. Emilia felt like she had been put into one of Foundry Five's massive durasteel presses and then subjected to one of the cable extractors. She felt stretched out and bent, not fully sure of her physical state. God only knew how the rest of the crew was doing.

But it was her job to find out. She groaned again, squeezed her eyes shut, and opened them once more, trying to clear the spots from her vision. Her eyesight slowly focused, and she could begin to see the rest of the bridge once more.

"Mercer..." Emilia coughed, and then said a little louder, "Mercer, crew status?"

At one station, the lanky form of her executive officer, Tarn Mercer, slowly extracted himself from the tangle he had found himself in. "Just a second, ma'am. I'm still not sure of my status yet."

Emilia managed a wan smile. "Take your time. I don't think we'll be going anywhere for a while." Making careful movements, she slowly turned in her seat to check on the status of the rest of the bridge and her crew.

Displays and monitors were fuzzed out. Some had shorted out entirely, she couldn't tell which ones. The master holotank was offline and the main viewscreen was dark. She could see stars through the bridge windows, but she didn't have the mental bandwidth to try and place their relative locations at the moment. Crewmembers groaned, nursed bruised bodies, and generally slowly made their way towards recovery.

Behind her, Emilia could hear Mylene groaning. She shifted her chair further, and could see that Mylene had landed face down on the deck, somehow managing not to damage her guitar through the earlier turmoil.

".....ngggh... som'body tell th' guy w' th' anvil bells t' lay off, willya?... drrrhg...." Mylene moaned, her eyes squeezed shut. Next to her, Guvava staggered and peeped erratically, as if he was working off the mother of all benders.

Emilia sighed and returned her attentions to the rest of her crew. Mercer had finally gotten himself situated, and was now force-rebooting his consoles. They flickered several times and then steadied, restoring their displays and returning power to their controls. Satisfied, he picked up his headset, slid it on, and began checking in with the rest of the ship's crew.

At one of the stations closer to the forward holotank and main display, sensor technician Reese made a satisfied sound and turned her attention toward her commanding officer.

"Exterior sensors and cameras are rebooting, Ma'am. We should start getting input from the surviving ones in a minute or two."

Emilia slowly nodded, still avoiding making any sudden moves. "Anything from the probe network?"

"Nothing yet, Ma'am," replied her communications officer. "The other ships may be having better luck; I'll try contacting them."

"Once Reese is done, work with her to reestablish connections with the probes, in case the battlegroup and the Voronda Elendil are having similar problems."

"Yes, Ma'am." The comm officer turned and got to work. Emilia watched the rising level of activity with quiet neutrality. She wanted to show more emotion, express her pride in her crew and her ship that had survived the event, but her mind and body still felt out of sorts. Instead, she settled on waiting for the holotank and forward viewer to stop showing test patterns and display something useful.

Finally, she was rewarded for her patience. Sections of the display cleared, bursts of colored static snow replaced with a mosaic of subwindows, each relaying the image from one of the Frank Lloyd Wright's external cameras.

Emilia frowned, studying the displayed images. "Reese, can you try splicing the feeds? Looks like some of the cameras had their video receptors partially burned out." She gestured at the display mosaic; many of the cameras appeared to have a dark grey disk situated in the middle of the image. She could see the pinpoints of the starfield surrounding the disks, but the center looked flat and featureless.

"Working on it, ma'am." Reese plied her boards, adjusting camera positions and running diagnostics. "Attempting to adjust for binocular parallax... huh."

"'Huh'?" Emilia parroted. She felt a vague measure of unease, which had nothing to do with the turbulence from earlier.

"I... don't think it's the cameras, ma'am." She demonstrated this by commanding several of the port and starboard side cameras to pivot and point towards where Zeta Cygni should have been. As they did so, their images panned across the local starfield, until they encountered that big grey disk.

Emilia's sense of unease only grew. "Overlay camera images. Enhance and verify. Do we still not have any probe or sensor input yet?"

"Ma'am, I'm starting to get data from some of the probes nearest to us," her commtech answered. "Working on handshaking with the other ships in the fleet."

Emilia wordlessly nodded. Meanwhile, Reese had taken the new inputs from the probes, and interleaved them with the video feeds. They didn't appear to help much; whatever was out there was big, grey, and round. It was difficult to make out details; the light from the nearest star, Zeta Cygni, was absent, gone wherever the star had vanished to.

There was a sudden building hum from the center of the bridge, and a technician poked his head up from where he had been working on the bus connections to the main holotank. "Holotank's back up, Ma'am!"

"Good. Reese, mirror the display. I need to get a closer look at this thing."

Reese nodded in acknowledgement. The image was now repeated, filling the holotank's maximum projection radius. Emilia leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. Her initial evaluation had been wrong; the big dark disk wasn't totally blocking all light, she could see some tiny flickers, winking dots that would have been impossible to spot if the image had been smaller.

"Reese. Grid five five one two. Magnify ten times."

A zoom window bracketed one of the dots. The image expanded, centered on that dot, but that didn't appear to have done much.

"Magnify ten times."

Once again, the image zoomed, but it had no noticeable effect.

"Magnify, maximum zoom. Use all suitable cameras to compensate for parallax effects."

This time, the image window continued to expand, again and again, until finally the cameras reached the limits of their optical and digital resolutions. "Ma'am, I think we've got something!" Reese adjusted the projection a little, and a green smudge slowly came into fuzzy resolution against the great bland grayness.

It was still impossible to make out any details, but the overall shape and color of the object, centered on the still-blinking light, was recognizable.

It was a starship.

A Zentraedi starship. A Quiltra-Queleual-class assault ship, nearly two miles long.

Reese stared, her eyes wide, taking in both the zoomed inset and the original source image. The amount of magnification that had been needed just to see one Zentraedi warship, and what that said for the... thing in the background, boggled her mind. "... my god... " she whispered.

Emilia stared at the image in the master holotank, sagging back into her chair, shocked by what she saw. She finally had grasped the magnitude of what had occurred - and the gigantic scale of the thing that had appeared in Zetan space.

"What the hell is that thing?" one of the Cianbro crewmen wondered, his voice filled with awe.

Emilia tried to answer, but her mouth was so dry only a dull rasp came out. She swallowed hard and tried again.

"....it's a dyson sphere," she murmured.

Mylene, still recovering from the impromptu rollercoaster ride, had finally worked her way back to a sitting position. She was still on the floor, but at least it got her vertical again. She shook her head to clear it. "... you say something, Emi?"

Emilia slowly stood up, her body tensing with the effort, her eyes still locked on the impossibility the probes were reporting. She stepped closer to the holotank control console, studying the images and data displays. Slowly, as she looked over the gravity and radar figures and double-checked her gut instinct against hard facts, the look of astonishment on her face was progressively overtaken by one of sheer exultation.

"It's not flat," she said in an awed tone, mostly to herself, triple-checking the telemetry she was receiving. "It only looks that way because the surface is so regular. It's curved, it's... it's a sphere. ... They... spacefolded... a GOD DAMN DYSON SPHERE!!" she bellowed, slamming a fist down on the console, a near-feral grin splitting her face. "Breetai, you son of a bitch!"

"Yeek! Not so loud!" Mylene exclaimed, clapping her hands over her ears. Guvava squeaked and hid in Mylene's hair.

"Contact the other ships in the fleet!" Emilia commanded her technicians. "Get me their status and let's get started figuring out what the hell happens now!"

"Reunion, Part 3: Return" - An Exile Mini-Story by Philip Jeremy Moyer
Reunion Mini-Serial Plotted by Philip J. Moyer
special to the Eyrie Productions Discussion Forum
(c) 2007 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited


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(EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return [View All] pjmoyermoderator Apr-23-07 TOP
   Reunion Illustration 5 of 8: THERÈSE Gryphonadmin Apr-23-07 1
   RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return mdg1 Apr-23-07 2
   RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Nathan Apr-23-07 3
      RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return pjmoyermoderator Apr-24-07 5
   RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return BZArchermoderator Apr-23-07 4
   RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return O_M Apr-24-07 6
      RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Berk Apr-24-07 8
   RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return asuffield Apr-24-07 7
      RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return MuninsFire Apr-24-07 9
          RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return pjmoyermoderator Apr-24-07 10
              RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return asuffield Apr-24-07 18
                  RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Matrix Dragon Apr-24-07 20
   RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return cuso4 Apr-24-07 11
      RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return EW Apr-24-07 12
          RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Gryphonadmin Apr-24-07 14
      RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Gryphonadmin Apr-24-07 13
          RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Peter Eng Apr-24-07 15
              RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return O_M Apr-24-07 16
          RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return cuso4 Apr-26-07 28
              RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Gryphonadmin Apr-26-07 29
                  RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return O_M Apr-26-07 30
      RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return asuffield Apr-24-07 17
          RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Wedge Apr-24-07 19
              RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return asuffield Apr-25-07 22
                  RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Gryphonadmin Apr-25-07 23
                  RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Wedge Apr-25-07 24
                      RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return asuffield Apr-26-07 25
                          RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Matrix Dragon Apr-26-07 26
                          RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Wedge Apr-26-07 27
   RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return SpottedKitty Apr-24-07 21
      RE: (EXILE) Reunion part 3 of 6 : Return Star Ranger4 May-01-07 31


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