[CENTER] [IMG]http://i58.tinypic.com/izbvrs.jpg[/IMG] [/CENTER] [COLOR=#00ff00]0600 Hours December 12th 2899 Universal Earth Calender. Ulysses Space Dock, High orbit above Fortress Planet Cerol.[/COLOR] The Ulysses Space Dock, the largest of 5 space docks in orbit above the planet Cerol. Made up of three U-shaped multi-purpose docks, around a reinforced space station, each U-Dock had the capacity to hold up to 10 capital ships in its arms at a single given time, as well as over a dozen smaller vessels in its 'vertical' docks, with plenty of space for several more on its outer edges. Serving not only as a re-fit and repair station, the dock also served as its own shipyard, with an entire dock devoted entirely to the production of naval warships. Shuttles and freighters laden with supplies zipped back and forth between space stations and the surface, as wings of fighters and MAS units flew on regular patrols. Several large fleets floated in close proximity to the planet, some preparing to leave, others returning from the front lines for much needed repairs. Among the returning fleets was the Fifth Imperial Expeditionary Fleet, fondly named the 'Fighting Fifths' by the Emperor himself for their exemplary record and combat prowess. With UEE forces spread so thin, the Fifth Expeditionary was one of the few fleets to have a full compliment of 101st Legion MAS pilots, as well as an entire wing of carrier vessels to house them. Having recently returned several days prior from heavy conflict along the Ilyan front, fending off a Coalition attempt to establish yet another foothold into UEE space, the majority of the Fifth fleet was undergoing repairs, with several smaller ships being built from the ground up to replace fleet losses. Transports shuttled back and forth through the ships of the Fifth Fleet, delivering supplies and transporting personnel. Shuttles bearing the black and gold stripes of the 101st Legion flew from the planet Cerol to several of the fleet's capital ships, as they dropped off new pilots and MAS's to replace the fleet's losses during its previous operations. The station seemed to be giving the Fifth Fleet priority, rumor had it the fifth fleet was being sent off again on another mission, with little to no time to rest. [center]-------------------------[/center] [COLOR=#00ff00]Space Station Ulysses, Command Briefing Room.[/COLOR] A rather dimly lit room, the command briefing room was a large, spacious room, with plenty of space for the officers that used it. The commanding officers from the Fifth Expeditionary fleet's capital ships, as well as the Station's command crew, and several of the top brass were in the room, either physically, or through secured holo-displays. The officers were in the middle of a heated debate... "We can't deploy yet! Half of our ships are still damaged!" [RIGHT][COLOR=#ffa07a]"We don't even know if the weapon exists!"[/COLOR][/RIGHT] [CENTER][COLOR=#add8e6]"We must deploy the fifth fleet now! They've already destroyed three colonies!"[/COLOR][/CENTER] [RIGHT][COLOR=#ffa07a]"Survivors confirmed that it was an orbital bombardment by a Coalition fleet"[/COLOR][/RIGHT] "What kind of orbital bombardment bores a hole through the middle of the planet?" [RIGHT][COLOR=#99ff99]"Regardless! Half the fleet is damaged, we're not fit to jump deep into enemy lines on a hunch!"[/COLOR][/RIGHT] [CENTER][COLOR=#ffd700]"Do you doubt the capability of your captains, Admiral?"[/COLOR][/CENTER] [COLOR=#99ff99]"One of my carriers barely has the capacity to jump, let alone make combat maneuvers!"[/COLOR] [RIGHT]"He's right! How do you intend on securing a super weapon with a battle group of crippled ships?!"[/RIGHT] [COLOR=#ffd700]"What if we sent a task force?"[/COLOR] [RIGHT][COLOR=#99ff99]"A task force?! Are you asking me to send my men on a probable suicide mission to test your hunch?!"[/COLOR][/RIGHT] [CENTER][COLOR=#ffd700]"Yes."[/COLOR][/CENTER] [COLOR=#99ff99]"Why you.. You crooked snake! I oughta-!"[/COLOR] [RIGHT][COLOR=#ffa07a]"Admiral Bishop! Please calm down!"[/COLOR][/RIGHT] [CENTER][COLOR=#add8e6]"Control your tongue Admiral Bishop! Might I remind you who you are speaking with?"[/COLOR][/CENTER] [COLOR=#ffd700]"Yes, Bishop, control yourself or I will have you removed from this meeting, and much worse."[/COLOR] [RIGHT][COLOR=#99ff99]"....(damned snobby upstart, thinks of war like a game.)....."[/COLOR][/RIGHT] [COLOR=#ffd700]"So,"[/COLOR] said Admiral Ardin, with a air of finality in his snobby, almost snake-like voice, [COLOR=#ffd700]"Do we have any volunteers for this mission?"[/COLOR] The Admiral was a thin, wiry man, with clean, short hair, save for a single lengthy lock that hung over his face, a look quite befitting his serpentine voice. The Emperor's nephew, Admiral Ardin made an astoundingly fast leap from lieutenant to Admiral in merely years, making himself the youngest admiral, in the room. Aged in only his early 30s, many would have thought he'd be at the command of a frigate, instead of multiple fleets. Many conservative and older officers had no small amount of distaste for who they felt to be an upstart with more power than he could handle, though several commanders backed Ardin fully, likely for their own personal gain. [center]-------------------------[/center] [COLOR=#00ff00]On board the Liberator Class Abraham Lincoln.[/COLOR] The hangers were a buzz of commotion as engineers made fine tune adjustments and repairs to MAS's and planes that they wouldn't trust machines with. The sounds of welders, sparks, computers, and dropping machinery could be heard as the small army of engineers went about their daily duties taking care of the sleek Naginata fighters, Albatross bombers, and MAS units with trained efficiency. Meanwhile, in the center of the hangar, Sterling McKnight along with most other of the 7th MAS team pilots lounged around, several of the squadron's pilots sitting laxly on top of several crates, while others stood, idling around. They were all waiting for the 101st transport to arrive, and see who they were getting transferred to them: old friends, notorious pilots, famous war heroes, or new recruits, most of the pilots were eager to see who was coming, though not all for the same reason. Some of the other pilots on the other hand, weren't so enthusiastic. Rick Astelion for example, their former squad leader's twin brother, had an understandably moody look on his face. After the loss of two of his close friends in combat, he wasn't looking forward to seeing the Newcomers. Astelion sulked off to the side on his own, his foul, stormy mood prompted many more prudent pilots to give him some distance. Sterling himself was leaning his back against one of the taller crates, idly scanning through a datapad filled with logistical information. His face darkened for a moment as his finger skimmed across their former squadron leader's casket, labelled as "standard cargo", to be shipped off on the 101st transport that would be bringing their squadron's replacement. Sterling's finger skimmed over the data profile of their newest pilot next. She had an impressive record for a recruit- top marks on her flight tests, extensive High-G and weapons training, but she was still a recruit. [color=FFDAB9]"Kind of bothersome that they're sending us a rookie to replace someone like Tori, huh?"[/color] came a light voice from behind him. Looking up, Sterling found Sara Lin laying on the crate he was leaning on, her head resting on her arms, leaning forward just off the crate to look at his datapad. Sterling scowled, Sara was partially right. Tori's actual replacement had already arrived, a veteran by the name of Trapp, but the 7th Team had been down a pilot for the majority of their last tour. The fact that they were getting a fresh new recruit to round out their numbers was a bit of an injustice. [color=Lightblue]"Not like they can help it,"[/color] Sterling replied, [Color=lightblue]"The 101st is running out of pilots. Only 35 pilots graduated from the last training class."[/color] Sara rolled onto her back and sighed. [color=FFDAB9]"And I guess we can't just lower our standards, huh? Otherwise we might as well be one of those MAS Division [i]regulars[/i]."[/color]