From: The Dark Lord of Nightmares Subject: REPOST: The Changing Tides 1/10 Date: Wed, 23 Feb 2000 17:43:34 -0800 Last year, I attempted to post this, but the chapters were too large. Now that I have finally had enough time to shortnet them, I am reposting it. This is the first of two stories that cover the beginning of the Babylon 5 play-by-email RPG Omega Fleet. If you are interested in joining the game, check out the site at: http://omegafleet.cjb.net Omega Fleet - The Changing Tides By Mike Bell & April Oglesbee Chapter 1 - The Earth Alliance colony on the planet Rigel VIII was founded in the Earth year 2244, just before the Earth-Minbari War broke out. It began as a small mining colony, set up to supply Earth with Quantium 40, a rare mineral needed in the construction of jump gates. The planet's supply of Quantium 40, combined with the high prices at the beginning of Human galactic expansion made Rigel VIII the wealthiest colony planet in the Earth Alliance. But the planet's supply of the substance quickly dwindled and disappeared, thus leaving a washed-up and broke colony in the middle of nowhere during a war. On the Minbari's swift push through the outer Human colonies, the Rigilian system was not given much attention. When the Minbari came through in early 2246, the colony had a population of less than one-quarter of a million people, most of those living in poverty. There were no starships stationed there, aside from the ever-rare supply ship from Earth, which had all but stopped their runs during the war, so the Minbari did not give Rigel VIII any attention at all and moved onto bigger and better things. When more and more of the larger, inner Human colonies started to be hit by the Minbari, fleeing refugees came to Rigel VIII rather than return to Earth for fear the Minbari would soon strike the inner planets of the solar system. During this time of unplanned expansion what law, order, and civility the planet had before was all but destroyed. In one three-month span what few law enforcement officers there were recorded 1080 murders out of a population of over six-hundred thousand. The wealthiest person on Rigel VIII at the time was a man named Harriman Porter who, while most everyone else around him on the planet lived in almost filth, lived in luxury off of the profits he made during the mining days. He was blind of the poverty around him until his wife and children were murdered on their way home from an outing at the beach by a gang looking for money. This opened his eyes to the world around him and he set out to change it. Over the next 20 years, Rigel VIII was cleaned up into a world that rivaled Earth in its beauty, both natural and unnatural. It was now a world of vast oceans, sandy beaches with crystal clear water, dense forests, and large cities. Rigel VIII became mostly a tourist attraction. By 2263, four million people claimed the planet as their home, but there were some who wanted the planet all to themselves. * * * The sun was shining brightly and a cold wind was blowing out of the east when Allyson McGregor, chief investigator for the Psi Cops division on Rigel VIII, rode through the streets of New Houston, the city she had called home ever since being stationed here after leaving Mars eight years earlier. She had spent all but five years of life on Mars, but when she came here she vowed never to go back to the dusty red planet and it's artifical enviroments inside pressure domes. The sun, the water, the fresh air, it was still all new to her even after being here for so long. After navigating through the crowded streets for almost an hour, the car pulled to a stop outside an upper-class apartment building near the out skirts of the city. Before opening the car door, McGregor changed her whole attitude. What was, in private, verging on a happy demeanor now changed to something darker, something more like a P-12 Psi Cop should be. Even though they thought so, the Corps had not broken her yet. She pulled on the black synthicated leather gloves that she hated and opened the hover car's passenger side door. More than six feet tall, with long red hair pulled back behind her and piercing blue eyes that looked like they could see through anything, hidden behind dark sunglasses, she was an intimidating sight, and the PPG strapped to her side and the two Bloodhounds flanking behind her didn't help subdue that feeling. Without saying anything to the officers behind her, she walked up the short flight of stairs to the apartment building's entrance and they followed her like a loyal dog, or more correctly, bloodhound. The security guard at the door started to stop her, but after seeing the psi on her badge took a step back and allowed her and her comrades to pass. McGregor disliked instilling a sort of god like fear in the Mundanes, but it did help make her job a lot easier. She said nothing until the three had reached the elevator, then asked one of her Bloodhounds where it was exactly they were going. "Eighth floor, room 807." She finally took off her sunglasses, which had made the inside of the building almost too dark to see anything, then reached out and pressed the number eight on the keypad. The elevator quickly ascended, then came to a stop and opened the doors only a few seconds later. McGregor and her Psi Corps lackeys walked down the hallway which had been cleared of people by the local authorities - everyone on this floor had been ordered to stay out until the investigation was complete. On either side of the hallway were doors leading into apartments, two doors grouped together then a space and another group of two doors. It was like that on both sides. Uniformed with no personal touches, which gave the long hallway a slightly empty feeling. An empty feeling that McGregor felt. Psi Cops, and for that matter everyone else in the Corps, were taught to be emotionless for the most part. Whether they admitted to it or not, everything for the Corps was control, and emotions cannot fall inside their sphere of control so they try to inhibit them, and for the most part they succeed. McGregor let her mind wander until she found herself outside the door to apartment 807. The local police had sealed the apartment with a force field controlled by a keypad temporarily mounted to the right of the door. A keypad to which McGregor did not have the code for. Without hesitation, she removed her PPG from its holster, aimed at the force field controller, and fired at point blank range. A shower of sparks and a small fire erupted before quickly snuffing itself out when the electronic box fell to the floor. The force field dropped and McGregor slid her "special" identicard into the slot. The door opened and McGregor stepped in, followed by her trained dogs on their tight leash. The security force on Rigel VIII was sloppy, by Corps standards at least, and McGregor had learned how to exploit that and get around it. The instant the force field controller stopped transmitting, it rang a small alarm in the local security substation's monitoring room. An instant later, shortly after she put her indenticard into the slot, the alarm stopped and the computer display registered a small malfunction, then put itself into a diagnostic cycle, preventing the detection of movement inside by the internal sensors. The Psi Corps had a hundred little toys like that up its sleeve, and many did not know about a fourth of them. Inside the apartment, the body of the former resident, 26-year-old Commercial Psi Corps officer Malcolm Marshal, had been removed, but the cleaning crew was still awaiting orders from the police to come in and clean the mess up so blood was everywhere. McGregor and her crew had seen this sight dozens of times in the past year and everything was the same in each case. A Psi Corps officer was found murdered in his or her home and the words "Remember Byron" were written in red paint, so as to appear like blood, on a wall nearby. It was the terrorist attacks of those who would see the Corps destroyed, and most of them the Corps had raised. Surveying the scene, McGregor saw something different this time: under the words "Remember Byron" was "Watch the skies" written in black ink in an almost gothic calligraphy style. She let out a barely audible sigh. Out of the dozens of murders she had investigated since the attacks began, she had only solved four of them, and out of those four only one person had been arrested. Hardly enough to stop the attacks. "Document everything and get blood samples for DNA analysis." She said. "And keep it quiet." She glared over at the second Bloodhound, who was somewhat shorter than she was. "Not like last time." He nodded and McGregor turned on her heels and left the apartment. Once she was walking down the hallway she tapped her link. "McGregor to Phillips, nothing new at number 29." From: The Dark Lord of Nightmares Subject: The Changing Tides 2/10 Date: Sun, 27 Feb 2000 22:48:13 -0800 This is the first of two stories that cover the beginning of the Babylon 5 play-by-email RPG Omega Fleet. If you are interested in joining the game, check out the site at: http://omegafleet.cjb.net The Changing Tides By Mike Bell and April Oglesbee Chapter 2 - "Zeta Leader to Zeta 4, break right and come around to course 219 mark 5." Was Commodore Michael Willis' voice over Zeta 4's comm system. 1st Lt. Dennis Wan, the Thunderbolt's pilot, cut his thrust by one-quarter and eased the control stick to the right until he had come around to course 219. He straighten up and flew towards the ship he was stationed on, the EAS Universe, an older Earth Force Omega-class Destroyer. "Go ahead and go home, Wan, there's nothing out here but rocks." Willis said as he surveyed the Margola Asteroid Belt on the Centauri/Drazi border. The Universe had been one of thirty ships loaned to the Interstellar Alliance for patrolling alongside the Whitestar Fleet. Since the Centauri had broken away from the ISA and entered into self-imposed isolation, tensions between races that bordered Centauri space were high, and most, the Drazi included, had appealed to President Sheridan for ships to patrol the area in case the Centauri got ambitious. The Universe was one of a three-ship group under the direct command of Admiral Marcus Rawlens, of the ISA's newly-commissioned Fifth Fleet. The other two ships were Whitestar 34, known to her crew as the Olympus, and the EAS Oberon, an Omega-X Destroyer with modified Shadow technology. Together the group had patrolled the Centauri/Drazi border for four months and so far had not been in combat with anything but a couple Raider ships. The Centauri, as promised, were keeping to their selves, but the tensions were still high and one small spark could set everyone off. That is why a neutral fleet patrolled the borders; to prevent an outbreak of violence, or worse, another war. That was why Michael Willis was a million light years away from where he wanted to be. He looked down at the cockpit panels, but more specifically at the picture attached to the thruster control panel. The picture had been taken the year before on a beach outside Los Angeles on Earth. In the picture there were two people. One of them was Michael himself, the other Captain Rena Wallace, his wife of almost seven years. Michael piloted his ship back toward the asteroid belt to make another patrol run and then let his mind wander back to that day... * * * Willis opened his eyes in the gentle morning heat. He breathed in the salty ocean air coming through the open window, turned over, and reached for Rena. However, Rena wasn't there. He stood and stretched with a yawn. Then, scratching the back of his neck, walked to the deck just outside of his and Rena's beach side room. In the moments that his eyes took to adjust to the bright sunshine, a faint outline of a person moved not far in the distance. When he could see better, he was able to make out Rena's black hair swinging against her back as she played in the surf of the waves. Watching her, he smiled. Grabbing a towel and putting on his swimming trunks, he headed out to join her. She had seen him coming and ran to meet him. She smiled brightly, her blue eyes flashing joy. Then she hugged him and tugged him out to the surf without saying a word. He followed her innocently, never suspecting she would push him face first into a salty wave. Laughing, she ran from him and onto the golden sand where she sat down. When Willis was able to breathe without sucking salt water up his nose and walk without being tripped by a stray wave, he came stalking after her. In his mind he was going to soundly dunk her as she'd done him, but as he walked to where she was sitting, he was overcome by love too much to think of anything but getting to her side. Rena sat with her with her bare legs bent up and her bare arms wrapped around her shins so that her chin sat on her knees and her toes wiggled in the sand. She grinned insufferably up at him when he stood over her, blocking the sunlight and causing a shadow to fall over her. "You asked for it." He said an instant before he flopped beside her onto the sand and tickled her sides so that she shrieked with laughter. Moments later they lay in the sand, watching the waves crash against the shore, arms wrapped around each other, Rena's head on Wills' chest. They were happy. She hummed to herself and traced lazy circles on his arm. "We go back soon, love." Michael suddenly said, breaking the peaceful silence of the surf crashing against the shore. "Mmhmm." She mumbled. "Back to work." He sighed. Their week-long shore leave on Earth would be over tomorrow morning when Willis returned to the Universe - that was currently in dock undergoing repairs - and Wallace took command of the EAS Hayward, an Explorer-class vessel that would be embarking on a mapping mission of the outer-rim. A mission that would take her away from him for the next two years. Rena came up on her elbow, one arm tossed over Michael's chest. "Are you worried Michael?" "I don't know if worried is the word for it. More like, dread." She smiled softly at him and leaned close so that her chin rested on his chest. "Don't worry anymore then. We'll go back and do what we've always done. So don't worry, love, because no matter what we do, no matter the distance we may end up being apart at times, my heart will always be beating right there with yours." She laid her palm flat over his heart and then kissed it. For the rest of the day, they lay like that, walked up and down the beach looking for shells, dozed beside each other sporadically in the sand, and swam in the salty ocean. That night, while she lay sleeping, he sat in a chair beside the bed and watched her. The sheet, that was pulled up to just below her shoulders, which could not be seen because her black hair fell down upon them, slowly rose and fell with her steady breathing. Her small face was bathed in the light of a full moon seeping through the large, bay windows. He made a mental note to always remember the way she looked then for as long as he lived. Michael had never forgotten what she'd said to him that day and neither had she. From: The Dark Lord of Nightmares Subject: The Changing Tides 3/10 Date: Sun, 27 Feb 2000 22:49:14 -0800 This is the first of two stories that cover the beginning of the Babylon 5 play-by-email RPG Omega Fleet. If you are interested in joining the game, check out the site at: http://omegafleet.cjb.net The Changing Tides by Mike Bell and April Oglesbee Chapter 3 - Michael sat staring at the control panel with a soft half smile laying against his face. He ran a fingertip over the picture of Rena and him. Kissing his fingertips, he touched them to her still smiling face. But she wasn't there. The events of that day, which Willis had allowed to play out in his mind in mere seconds, happened almost a year ago. The next day Rena left for the EAS Hayward and he returned to the Universe. That had been the last time they had been together, and, save for vids and messages sent back and forth across the millions of light years between them, it would be the last time they saw each other for another year. "Anomalous reading detected." The Thunderbolt's computer announced. Immediately Willis' full attention was focused back on his fighter and reflexively he reached his hand out and hit a control on the cockpit's panel. On the heads-up display of his helmet a 3d grid map of the asteroid field he was approaching was displayed. Yellow dots indicated the asteroid, the green dot, his fighter moving toward the sea of yellow, and the red stationary dot the object the sensors detected. It was just sitting in the middle of the asteroid field, almost like it was dead in space. He started to increase the throttle then stopped himself as he entered the outermost edge of the asteroid field so that he could maintain better control over the Thunderbolt. "Computer, redirect power from backup systems to sensors." A moment later the computer beeped, alerting Willis it had finished redirecting power. "Alright, let's have a closer look, shall we." He muttered to himself. "Maximum power to scanners, let's see if we can't get a clear silhouette." The image on the HUD zoomed in to a large red dot rather than a small red dot on the map display. "Short and long range sensors are being jammed." The computer reported when nothing happened. "What is the source?" "Unknown." "Could the interference be caused by the asteroid field?" Willis asked. "Affirmative." The computer said, its voice unchanging throughout the conversation. Willis cursed under his breath. "Zeta Leader to Universe, I'm going in to investigate an unknown reading I've picked up in the minefield, please acknowledge." "Acknowledged, Zeta Leader." The voice of his XO, Commander Max Roberts, said over the comm channel which was filled with interference from the high concentration of the mineral morbitum in the nearby asteroids. "Should I have Delta Flight on stand by?" "Affirmative, and bring the ship in closer to the asteroid field. See if the ship's scanners can break through the interference." "Confirmed. Universe out." The comm channel beeped as it the Universe closed it. Willis turned to the port side to avoid smashing head-first into one of the larger asteroids, then he maneuvered back around and resumed his course for the object which lay five thousand kilometers ahead of him. He fought back impatience and the urge to increase speed as he slowly watched the distance tick down the display. His vision alternated between his cockpit displays, the HUD map, and the path ahead of him. While the Thunderbolt was currently in patch of the field that was empty of all but the smallest particles of rock, a pilot never knew when that would change because of a stray rock. At a distance of two thousand kilometers out, Cmdr. Roberts again radioed him. "Commodore, Captain Church of the Olympus reports she's having life support troubles and is requesting permission to leave the group." "Is it serious?" Willis asked. "Nothing that they can't handle until they get back to Starbase Nine." Was Roberts' answer. "Give her permission and notify the admiral." "Aye sir." Was the last thing Roberts said. A moment later the green dot that was the Olympus vanished from Willis' HUD map, then the red dot did the same. "Computer, what happened to the unknown object?" "Unknown." Five minutes later Willis' Thunderbolt arrived at the location of the anomalous reading and found nothing. * * * "It must've been a sensor echo from the Olympus." Roberts told Willis after the commodore had docked. The two of them were in the pilot's locker room while Willis changed from flight suit into his duty uniform. "The morbitum has been known to do that in the past." "Yeah, but why didn't it echo the Universe and the Oberon?" Willis argued while he slipped his black tunic over his head. "The Whitestar's active sensors operate on different frequencies then other ships, that could have something to do with it." Willis nodded. "True. Contact Captain Church when the Olympus comes out of hyperspace and ask her to send us the system logs from the time I picked up the object until they jumped." "Will do." "I'm going to go get some rest, I'll be in my quarters if you need me." A couple minutes later he entered his quarters. "Computer, messages." Willis said while unbuttoning his jacket. "One message from security, one message from Fleet Command, one message from Elizabeth Willis." The computer read off the list of messages and he sighed. It was the first day in months that he hadn't received a message from Rena. He didn't give it much thought and decided it best to take the sonic shower he had been patiently waiting for all afternoon.