The empires of the galaxy have enjoyed quite a bit of prosperity due to gorging on the resources of recently colonized systems.  It's been a race to control the most colonies to gain the most wealth to afford the largest fleet to dominate the other empires.  But the colonies are becoming discontented with the mistreatment they've received at the hands of their parent empires.

The scene opens on one such colony, Planet Boslin, part of the Andromedan cluster of colonies controlled by arguably the wealthiest of empires: The Red Giant, Engrif.  Taxes are getting outlandishly high, and the savage natives are getting bolder as the colonists are finding it harder to make ends meet.

Space bunny! Angel, a rather decorated young captain in the Engrif empire is on a ship en route to Planet Boslin. She's hoping to talk with the planet's representatives about their recent complaints. Recently, however, she had been passed over for a promotion she very rightly earned while some idiot who had the right connections got promoted higher than Angel. She's been hiding her bitterness quite well...

OOC: This is intended to be a Sci-Fi version of the American Revolution.  "Good guys" are the colonists.  "Bad guys" are the Empire.  However, even George Washington had his start as a Red Coat, so that doesn't mean starting as part of the Empire locks you into that faction.  And of course, there's Benedict Arnold.  But story will be told from the point of view of the colony, so if your char makes a permanent choice to side with anyone but the Rebels, you'll wind up relegated to off-panelness.  :P

01001 1001 11 010 10 1100011 0011 101010
Life Systems: ONLINE
Visual Receptors: ONLINE
Audio: ONLINE
It had been 70 years, 4 months, 21 days, 6 hours and 45 minutes since he first came ONLINE. Though his surroundings had changed several times over the years, the family he served had not. That is, until recently. Now he was "free". The concept still puzzled him, but yet, that is what he was. Free. And now, here he was, aboard a ship, piloted by a giant rabbit. Strange, was the word that came to him.

OCC: I had several ideas for a picture with this character, ultimately choosing the more human pic. But my other thoughts were a Tuxedo Penguin, made to look like C3P0 (which would have been cool for a more hilarious game) or a steampunk robot dressed like a butler. Both fit the name really well, but after reading the opening crawl for the game I chose instead to go for more of a Star Trek Data feel.

The pic, on the other hand, is EPIC for the character because it is the actor from LOST. And that character was a man who could not age. Immortal, more or less. So the look and similarity is what I love about the pic. I thought about using John Cleese as my pic, making this character older. But since he's an android, then the outword appearance can be whatever I want.

Cogsworth isn't a name I love, however, for this character. But it works, for now. I will be doing some looking for a proper name.

  Joe meanwhile, is a less decorated, less bunny agent under Angel's command.  With such important tasks like getting Angel a letter opener.  Or stabbing someone with a letter opener.  It's a very open ended job description.  That guy who follows someone around with a clipboard if they were also on hand to beat people to death with it on request.  Or at the very least pinch some fingers with the pencil holder.

  ...Do they even have letter openers and clipboards in THE FUTURE?

Angel's communications officer contacts her.  "Rear Admiral Arnold would like to speak with you."

Angel says, "Open a channel."

Alas, Joe somehow doubts this call is coming from an Austrian Movie Star.

Unless it was.  Schwarzenegger Is, BENEDICT.  This time, it's personal.

A holographic image of the Rear Admiral appears.  Once all the saluting and stuff is dealt with, he explains Angel's orders.

"You would do well to read up on the history of the colony you have been assigned to, Captain," he begins, "Lord North has labeled it the most dangerous hotbed of rebel activity in the entire Empire, and things are worsening rapidly.  I will be transmitting to you the wording of the law we are to enforce, but the gist of it is that the colony is to be blockaded until it pays damages for the shipment of cargo it destroyed."

A heads-up-display shows a tactical map of the current locations of several other empire ships present in orbit and silhouettes of ships expected to soon arrive and their designated posts.

"The more capable vessels will be comprising the blockade.  Yours is to land at the starport and you and your crew are to provide assistance to the governor's guard on the ground.  Consider any ground officer of equal rank your superior.  That is all."

(Which of course is relegating navy folks to grunt duty.)  The hologram vanishes and the text of the blockade law is sent in all it's legalese mumbo-jumbo glory.

OCC: What? I'm confused at what you're getting at. I get the Arnold reference in the first sentence, but this, "'Unless it was.  Schwarzenegger Is, BENEDICT.  This time, it's personal.'" I'm completely lost. Explain por favor.

Angel orders, "Send that data to my pad. Research the history of this colony and send that to me as well. Let's bring this ship to port."

Angel puts on that confident smile she always has and says, "We'll learn about these rebels. And if we're smart... we can engage the rebels without a single casualty."

Angel gets preparations under way. She is sure to have her trusty custom guns with her. Perks of officer rank is being allowed to go beyond a "standard issue" weapon if you so desire.

Cogsworth runs his hand over the metallic interior. He senses the imperfections in the workmenship, noting that had the manufacture used a Sonic Resonator Buffer, the ripples would have been decreased by 5.7%. This decrease on the entire ship's hull would have increased the thrusters' output by 9.2%. Making it faster than any of its design.

The thought was only a brief second in his binary processor. And soon his circuitry was a buzz about his latest situation, Free. Hm. He considered it . . .

The ship comes to port and is immediately pelted with rocks and flaming bags of dog poo.  A huge mob of thousands of civilians are shouting "Lobsters go home!" and "Burn in Hell, murderers!" and various other angry mob shouts.  The governer's security forces in full riot gear are carving a path to Angel's ship through the mob with tear gas, force field shields, and armored vehicles mounted with snow plows.  A headline on her datapad catches Angels eye: "MASSECRE DAY!"  The article reads: "Today marks the 4th anniversary of the infamous confrontation that ended in over 5,000 dead civilians..."

Angel loses her smile briefly. But just before she can get her smile back, she stops herself. A smile would be a bad thing to wear in front of an angry mob. She instead, puts on a serious expression and says, "Put up the shields and allow our friends passage through."

The ship's forcefield appears and begins spreading out, pushing the people away like an invisible wall. But the Engrif troops have been aligned with the resonance of the forcefield. Angel walks down the ramp to meet with the commander of the approaching troops. She is quick to note the guy's rank before addressing him, though she still does the exact military protocol demanded of her.

  Joe nods, making sure she gets her portable data.  "Of course Angel.  Shall I slap anyone who asks 'how will you take out the rebels without causing them a single casualty'?"  He follows after his superior officer.  Short post is short.

OOC: Explain you say?  A few posts above my own said...

Narrator:

And of course, there's Benedict Arnold.

Only slightly confusing, the riot police officer's rank is Captain.  Which Angel knows is 3 ranks below her own.  It seems the officer is aware of this fact as well and salutes Angel.  "Welcome to Pergatory, Captain."

The ship's force field may not be a lethal weapon, but rioters are injured as they're knocked down and pushed around by it.  This of course does not go over well with the crowd and the violence intensifies.  But a voice amplified by megaphone can be heard from behind the crowd.

"We are not the low down, dirty scallywags that our oppressors are!  So we won't be drawing blood for bruises, will we?!  Instead let's send them a better message!  Kenningham style!"

The crowd roars and laughs!  Everyone turns about face, bends over, and moons the new arrivals.

"See all those buttholes?!" the voice asks, "You should feel right at home!"

Angel would have answered Joe with a simple, "That won't be necessary."

Thankfully, name tags are part of any military OR police personnel's uniform. Angel sees the guy's name tag and salutes him back. "Thanks, Captain Nork. Someone get me a megaphone."

Once she has one, she holds it up. "I am Captain Angel Bard. My crew and I have not done anything besides land so far and you have attacked us before we did that much. The force field is a defense, not an attack. I am here to talk civil with whoever wishes to do so. There is no need for violence as I am here purely on talking terms. My orders do not include harming anyone. I and my crew will defend ourselves if need be, so please do not make that necessary."

  That's the second most asses Joe has seen in one place.  "Ah, I guess the contents of those bags were a personal touch then.  It is at least comforting to know that despite such claimed woes the colonists have, lacking a healthy fiber rich diet is not one of them."

"LIAR!"  "Viper of the Blockade!"  "Anyone who talks with her is a traitor!"  The crowd returns their trousers to the full upright position and resumes with the angry mob thing.  The voice on the megaphone says things that makes plenty of sense to the locals such as "Remember Bonny Johnson!" and the angry crowd shouts curses and threats of hanging murdering bastard lobsters, etc.

"I wouldn't recommend trying to have a chat, Captain," the officer says, "Let's get you and your crew inside the building ASAP, please.  We don't need a repeat of last time."

He'll lead the way toward the nearest towering structure.

Angel nods and follows the officer. On the way, she continues her reading of the logs of the massacre that happened not too long ago. She seems confident in the escort's ability to do their job without her getting injured.

  Joe makes a show of adding notes to his own data pad.  "Rumors of rebel desires for freedom of speech and thought exaggerated.  Angel may be a viper and not a bunny, confirm later."  He expects there are real, legitimate complaints to be had from the colonists, but they are a bit harder to pick out when this sort of stuff is at the forefront.
This message was last updated by the player at 01:05, Wed 29 Aug 2012.

Bad first impression now established, the group is led safely inside.  The building looks like it was a highrise apartment building that has been re-purposed as a military barracks.  The governor is there, wearing all the splendid finery that comes with his office, but does not look happy at all.

"Insanity!  I ask for backup and they send me a blockade?!  Don't they know this will only make things worse?!  And who's bright idea was it to send someone down here from the fleet on a day like this?!"

"The naval reinforcements are here, sir," the ground officer informs his boss, "And I imagine it was the Fleet Admiral's bright idea."

The governor looks unimpressed with Angel.  "Welcome to Boslin," he says as if it were some tiresome chore for him to have to welcome her.  He then orders the officer, "See that she is given appropriate quarters.  I have an angry mob to deal with."

He doesn't wait for Angels reply and steps into the back of a fancy hover car parked right there in the lobby and signals for the driver to head out.  The officer shrugs and continues on.  "Right this way, Captain."

Angel nods and follows along. She chooses silence. To speak any of her thoughts would be uncalled for at this time, and silence makes even a fool seem wise. Once in her room, she looks at Joe. "I assume you have been recording everything for posterity?"

  Joe nods,  "So far as has seemed necessary."  Omitting your own one-liners is the privilege of the guy with the recording.

  He glances at the departing vehicle.  "Such a nice car.  A shame what will likely happen to it at this rate."

The quarters Angel is given look like the home of a relatively well-to-do family.  Here and there are portraits of a mother, father, daughter, and son along with various other bits of personal effects they apparently left behind.  The apartment has a bedroom for each former family member, a dining room and living room, a kitchen, a study, and two bathrooms.

"I trust your accommodations are acceptable, Captain?" the officer asks.

Siervo exits the ship, finally. There are several bags of something laying around the hatch. His sensors determine that it is human/animal extriment. This is one of those instances where he was glad to be an android.
Olfactory Sensors: OFFLINE
Taking a few steps he looked around. Several denizens were still loitering the landing pad, but none seemed to pay him any attention. "Excuse me?" He asked a nearby patron. "Have you seen the captain of this vessel?" Not that he was wanting to go searching for the lady. But it would be helpful to know, in case he were to need something.

Angel nods. "The accommodations are, yes. Thank you."

Once the guy leaves, Angel looks at Joe. "You know; times like these I really appreciate your very sane company."

  "For a given value of sane, but thank you Captain."  All part of the job.  This would probably where one reference Alfred's comments such as 'By the way I've pressed your tights and sorted your exploding gas balls Master Bruce'.  But someone else did Angel's Laundry.

  "Though a dully sarcastic mob would probably be preferable at this rate, compared to the local degree of sanity shown."

OOC: So I hear I was mistaken for a Tim alt. Oh good my post quality is going back up.  Hopefully Seivro gets to catch up with us before he's one step behind again location wise.

One of the SWAT type soldiers still securing the perimeter answers Siervo.  "The bunny?  Yeah.  She was escorted inside the barracks."  He points the direction.

Back at Angel's new quarters... nothing happens.

Angel does a more thorough reading of the history of the massacre. She knows a normal rioting mass doesn't just suddenly refuse to spill blood out of spite or act as one accord unless there is something to it. She is sure to have Joe read aloud so she can save her voice for later. Still, she reads along with what Joe says.

Once that much is done, she does research on the general history of the colonies, why they have the gall to resist, and how they came to the current mentality they have. She makes idle conversation with Joe while she does so, playing cards. "I wonder... if it were you, Joe, how would you be convinced I was on your side after the atrocities were afflicted on your home."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:10, Fri 31 Aug 2012.

The history of the people is summed up thus:  A dangerous cult of religious fanatics on the run from the law for repeated convictions (and successful escapes) of child abuse and treason fled to this planet a couple centuries ago.  Since then, the place has attracted the lowest kind of scum the galaxy has to offer, and has always been difficult to control.  But because the planet is rich in resources and cheap labor, a few bold merchants and royals have made huge profits by playing the delicate game of placating the colonists and savage natives with bribes, exaggerated promises, and allowing sort of organized crime to be overlooked.  Unfortunately, the organized crime lords have been consolidating their power lately, unifying several formerly competing factions into one very formitable whole.  Perhaps even more disturbing are rumors that some of the crime lords are themselves royals and merchants who have converted to the ancient cult.

  "Short version of the history files.  We've always hated this place and have done the bare minimum to get something out of it, yet are surprised things worked out this way."

  He looks over to Angel at her question.  "Unfortunately, I am at a loss just what kind of hard evidence would be required in that case.  The thus far lack of professionalism means even the most wildly favorable contract written up would barely be considered worth printing out and filling with their burning discontent."

He nods to the solider and makes his way down the street. With all this new "freedom" the least one could do is do some sight seeing. Perhaps I'll start with the barracks.

Angel says, "Much as I'd like to go for fresh air, there are too many people outside who'd like nothing better than to harm me or worse. However... I'm not confined to my quarters. So we could have a look around. Nobody said we couldn't. Let's see if we can find anything interesting."

Angel heads out of her room.

  Joe of course, follows after.  "Part of the appeal for the efforts of new worlds compared to life on ships and stations, I assume."  Screw that filtered life support atmosphere!  This is NATURAaack hack blah, did I just swallow a bug?

Hearing the cough, Siervo turns the corner and spies the Captain and the First Mate. "I assume the answer you are looking for is: PerriAir." It was meant as a joke, but the way in which Siervo spoke, it came off as more matter of fact.

---

^{I hope this is okay. We need to get the group together and I thought it best to just put Siervo nearby.}

Outside Angel's new quarters she can see her crew is receiving a more mixed welcome than she did.  Anywhere from, "Holy cow, they sent the entire navy?!  Well it's about time we showed those rebels what's for!" to "You guys got no idea what you're messing with here.  The rebs'll be all the more impossible now."

Of course, being the ranking officer in the immediate vicinity, everyone salutes her when they notice her.

  Spaceballs references are always welcome.  "I always wondered if anybody remembered that short lived product.  A little more difficult to favorably market than drinks."

OOC: It's fine, in fact I was hoping you'd link up since we kept seeming to outpace you and I was starting to feel guilty (Even if I was just following Angel)

Angel looks at Siervo and introduces herself and Joe, "I am Captain Bard. This is Lieutenant Darkthorne."

Once she enters the room where all the others salute her, she looks around the room for the highest ranked of the two schools of thought. "I'm new here. Tell me about this place. What does my being here mean? You answer first." she points at the "rebs will be impossible now" school of thought.

OOC: Unless Lieut is the wrong rank for Joe. I have NO clue.

Stands slightly behind Joe, {just to his right (if that is where he stands in relation to Angel [if he's standind ot her left, then Siervo is to the left of Joe or vise versa] -- this shows a ranking system. Angel is obviously the Captain, Joe is a Lieutenant [perfect choice of rank btw and Siervo is . . . well, nothing; so standing to the rear is a great place for him.} He crosses his hands behind his back, as was customary for a butler and waits to hear what is going on. This freedom thing, sure is different than anything I have read about, he thinks to himself.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:22, Thu 06 Sept 2012.

  Joe wonders if 'out of spite' will be the answer.  Or if it will be something more creative such as 'The rebels are expert ship thieves, we brought a lot of ships'.

  OOC: Yeah sure, totally a Lieutenant.... I know nothing about real military.

"It's complicated, Captain," the Commander answers, "But I'd bet a month's pay that this means war."

The other Commander snorts, suppressing a laugh.  "War?  You've a lower opinion of the rebs than I do.  They're not that stupid.  Those few that might be will be wiped out so fast you could no more call it a war than kicking a puppy is war.  I'll take that bet."

"More like kicking a rabid wolverine.  And the timing couldn't be worse.  The empire's got bigger fish to fry than these colonists.  Like the French, Spanish, and Portuguese empires.  You think they won't notice our whole fleet is distracted with this place?  It'll be war alright.  Galactic war."

"Pff.  Those empires have colony problems of their own to deal with.  Not only that but they're stuck in a 'you first' deadlock.  The first empire to attack any other will be welcoming attack from all the others."

"It's not that simple.  No empire will want to stand idly by while the others solidify their hold over their colonies and consequently adjacent territories.  It wasn't long ago we fought a war with France over the sector next to this one.  I'll betcha they're watching this blockade very closely and are just aching to see it turn ugly."

"We've kicked their froggy butts before.  If they try anything, we'll kick 'em again."

"Same way we kicked their butts at the Battle of Carillon?"

"They had Ticonderoga.  That hardly counts."

"And we had these colonies on our side.  Things would have gone very differently if they were against us."

"Blasted traitors!  I wouldn't put it past them to join with the French."

"Now you're starting to get it."

---

Decided against changing names of nations and stuff.  I realized how very quickly I'd lose track and confuse myself.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:03, Sat 08 Sept 2012.