Byblos

Byblos opened his eyes, noting the inability to move his arms and legs. Bound by binders of metallic type he was Deprived of mobility on a crude slab bench which he was obviously placed on. Lots of lifting that would of required. A quick visual by his refocused eyes revealed a detainment cell with no obvious indicators of who had locked him up. The cell had an a single door, of what appeared to be forged of a very thick metal. The cell was about two meters wide and three meters in length. The room looked of solid metal with featuring only a a dome providing dim light. Visible on the ceiling, were thin slits which could provide air or something else. Clearly whoever held him knew what they were doing. But what the heck was he doing to get here. Oh yes trying to divert some warehouse security guards attention from the rest of the groups extraction..to look like the troublemaker that the old man with the cane was pointing at. Being an amateur who tripped an alarm, and went to pry some parts off another warehouse door to make it look real. "Stupid Pet`aQ." Byblos muttered aloud. No doubt heard by someone observing him. Somewhere. Damage Control. The Nausicaan clearly ruled out anything on him as an obvious giveaway to his teammates except his cheap constructed COMM device. But it was of common make and did not store data unless told to, which he never did. Then something else came to him as he counted his tusks with his tongue. The name he provided in checking into this web earlier. "Byblos, and I work for Pher." Dumb, very dumb big guy, You've compromised Pher. The only smart thing you had done was dispose of the ID provided to him earlier. That would be somewhere down the sink in Argyle's Safehouse. Argyle. Another person you are linked to, along with Samus and maybe that little vole named Gilmo. It was no wonder why the male members of his race had a lifespan usually of about 20-25 years. Stupidity, and violence unchecked. That was why Nausicaans were viewed by many as a failed race. Byblos was well into his thirties. That was mostly thanks to what his father taught him after he was expelled from the home, per Nausicaan custom at age 13. Byblos was able to stay out of trouble for a long time on Tranquility, mainly because of two things. His desire and ability to kill witnesses to his crimes; and his genius ally Vargros who could disable just about any security/surveillance system he found himself against. The ideal guy to have cover your tracks. This new job on the Qob was going to get him killed. Byblos no longer was given the means to dispose of his opponents at will, and someone to clean up the mess. He would not blame his current employer for leaving him to rot in this well made cell. Manning had been smart not to keep Byblos totally informed on things. This plus, his obvious inability to adjust to his new job of doing things...clean. If Byblos did get out of this cell alive, by some miracle and he was reunited with the team. He would have to talk to Joe about just guarding the ship. Clearly his simple kill at will methodology of the past would no longer work. The team did not have a slicer to cover their tracks from unwanted attention like his missing friend Vargros. But whose custody was he now in? Local Gular Security? Gilmo's? The Guardians and Marshall Savoy? The last was truly an unpleasant thought. Byblos tested the restraints binding him. Whoever was holding him, knew how to handle a Nausicaan with ease. And that was a disturbing thought.

Byblos was rubbing his bruises from attempting to duplicate "tackling" opponents. A tactic he picked up at a bar called Redstar years ago. Chris had repaired his shoulder injury, and received from the Qob's medic a lecture on the difference between human opponents and robots. He was recalling this when he heard Pher mention the Guardians. "Ah, Pher..If you so desire to talk to the Guardians please leave me out of the discussion. Or maybe tell them I was a victim of the Mad Doc's schemes and maybe they might buy the fact I might be dead. Yeah..that might work.. hah! Uh sorry everyone continue..please...

20 minutes later Byblos finally settled down, the restroom to the safehouse was not usable to say the least. Glass was smashed, the head literally ripped off it's floor mount and water was beginning to puddle up. The metallic sink or basin..whatever humans called it was literally in a V shape from where his forearm had hit it. His teammates would not be pleased with a safehouse with no Toilet. Yet another mistake, the Nausicaan had made in the span of 30 minutes he nearly walked to a bar to start a fight, only to be saved from that violence by William the Ex-Guardian packing heat. And when he reentered the cell he came withing a foot of flooring his Boss with a right cross but stopped in mid stroke and went to restroom to vent his anger. Nothing in his mind was being done right on this mission. He was having serious doubts about his BOSS and leaving Qob unattended, and stumbling into a organ harvesting clinic. But Byblos had to concede looking at the damage he just did to the restroom and his near striking of the Boss, he wasn't doing things right either. He was behaving like a Nausicaan 15 years younger, the ones that always got killed for such bursts of violence and demands for action. Clearly he was not as wise as he thought he was. That hurt, more than his forearms did from trashing the restroom. "Well Congrats Bybs," he spoke to the shattered mirror, "You just destroyed a defenseless Restroom. How Big of you!" Byblos thought of the Cat and knew they had to move to get him out of the Organ harvesters hands, but he wasn't certain if he was still on the team after this meltdown. Mindless Stupidity.

Nausicaan Brains Boilin' Byblos failed to get Argylia's attention. He understood why. For Argyle to be so out in the open in his earlier meeting with him before the body harvesting "bombing" incident to how desperate he was to disguise himself now. Clearly something had changed. What Byblos did know, or rather believed, there was a significant Guardian presence was on Andus. And somehow the organ harvester had the "Cat." Things were just getting worse. The Nausicaan was really wanting to take action and do something. In his eyes the crew had not made any progress towards the main goal the Gular Big Guy, who Samus was offering a hefty payout that could refurbish Qob's ailing computers. Other minor jobs had been placed before them with the same result. Byblos was tired of planning and wanted action. However, with so much Heat on the scene between Andus Security and a Guardian Presence the situation had decayed to a point in his mind, the team could not do the job he had doubts they could do anyways. Anger, and frustration swept through the Nausciaan's mind. Byblos knew over the years this is what led to his species being confined to one system and used as solely as muscle. Action over planning. He thought he had weeded this Nausicaan trait out of him long ago, in a way like a Vulcan battles emotions. But things were just getting ridiculously impossible to achieve around here. He wanted to do something....Kill someone....Blow someone up. The Nausicaan Brain Byblos thought he had tamed on Tranquility was boiling with the urge to DO SOMETHING! But the Guardians were now here. Why? He did not know. Were they after him? Most likely not. Maybe Rainmakers. If he did go out and do something violent to get one of the jobs done, against the Boss's wishes he could very well find himself on a Guardian Ship bound for a Bull's Head Penal Colony. Byblos tried to relax. That was not easy for a Nausicaan whose Brain was boiling with frustration, he had to work out. Where? They did not exactly have a room except on Samus' controlled Rock. Perhaps it was time to relocate...and ask for a new Employer.

I hope people have seen the short from JPL ..."Seven minutes of Hell." Some people on the web are expressing an idea of "What's the big deal?" The engineering shown in this video is incredible. Upon viewing it made me wonder how many of those JPL scientists were incredibly nervous..maybe a bit doubtful? When the first landing signal came back..their reaction is totally justified..And I do not mind a bit of accidental profanity in a joyous celebration. Video on YouTube, look under JPL channel. Yeah the Olympics are on. But this is the best Landing of the Year period. We have to hope all the instruments work, and the main antenna deploys successfully. But, from what I understand everything is in the green on Monday Night. -B

Inside "Tourguide's" Hideout.... Byblos sat in a state of despair looking at his Boss Joe Manning in the cot across from him sleeping. Byblos still had to figure his BOSS out...let alone all the other BOSSES around the Andus Web. In the past, on his father's ship or with the Cycles of Death such a sight would not be tolerated. Leadership would be challenged. But Qob was different and he was still trying to figure things out. Pher was having to do the brunt of the work. Period. He did not know how the Orion tolerating working for a BOSS that visited his flask to often, even when his body clearly needed healing. Pher was quite an amazing woman. She did not need her pheromones to work her magic on Byblos. Watching her constantly try to salvage this group of individuals was in a way intoxicated. Her ability not to be as overly concerned about things like himself, yet plan ops when presented...as from the Klingon that arrived on the doorstep a short while ago was impressive. The Nausicaan's stream of thought strayed from Pher to the Klingon..... How did that Big Klingon know about Argyle's hideout? He was under the employment of Gilmo..that little "twirp" who surrounded himself with big guys with blades and guns. Yet the "twirp" somehow managed to get on Argyle's ######list. Certain things were again spinning around that Byblos did not see. He turned his head from the depressing form of Joe Manning to the physically but far more mentally attractive Pher. Perhaps her skill set in Risa and in space...will figure what he couldn't see. How the heck to complete the original job?

Heavy Metal Another Klingon guard brought another insult to Byblos. The Nausicaan who had almost a foot taller in height, and far more muscular than this Klingon again refused to let his urges get the best of him. He let the Klingon live. Despite Shane and Byblos having their weapons taken from them earlier either one of them could of put an end to the Klingon Merc’s life. Shane had that cybernetic arm, that could swat even the biggest beings. On Qob, Byblos had learned that the hard way. Byblos still wondered how Shane survived receiving that immense cybernetic arm. The Cyborg didn’t seem one for telling stories. As the “lucky to be alive Klingon” guided the two large companions down the hall, Byblos again took a position on Shane’s surviving arm. He had been doing this the whole time during the mission. He wanted to give the Cyborg a free field to swing that “arm” of his should he choose to change plans and end the Klingon’s life. Since Shane had instigated contact with the little being named Nel, this was Shane’s show Byblos had decided. Shane however had made it clear in the holding cell not to treat him as a superior with some clever humor. The word “Sir” was not to be used. The Nausicaan would do his best to comply with the Cyborg’s wishes. Despite the fact it made sense at the moment for Byblos to be Shane’s assistant. This Gilmo had actually met the Chief; he had not met Byblos. Gilmo had correctly mentioned Byblos as a “Death Rider” and that did have him a bit uneasy. The name of the gang Gilmo had used was incorrect, but Death could of changed the name of the “Cycles” after what happened two years ago. But it was clear Gilmo had actually met Shane in the past. All the more reason for Byblos to play “underling” role. He hoped Shane was not assuming Byblos was actting his pet, just because there were Klingons in Gilmo’s employment. Byblos did tell Pher about his people’s “Axiom” regarding Klingons. “Nausicaan steel should never meet a Klingon blade in combat” basically what it was. It could be misinterpreted easily, and Byblos thought Shane was doing just that. Byblos didn’t have the time to talk to Shane about the “Axiom” really was all about. Byblos knew Shane didn’t have the patience to listen but, sooner or later he’d tell him the story of that “Axiom.” It was really just a warning. It just simply pointed out that if a Klingon had one of those Bat'leths which the honorable ones did, a Nausicaan sword could not defeat it. It was not about fighting skill and more about metallurgy. Klingons and Nausicaans prided themselves in owning bladed weapons. When the Klingons made first contact with Nausicaans long ago, sure enough a fight ensued. When the Nausicaans went for their swords first, the Klingons gladly obliged and proceeded to draw their curved blades and proceeded to shatter one Nausicaan sword after the next to the point the story goes a great massacre took place. The Klingons clearly were and still are superior in metallurgy than Nausicaans. Depending on who told the story, 12 Klingons slew 100 to 1,000 Nausicaans. One would of thought his ancestors would of switched to blasters, but stubborn Nausicaan culture prevailed; attempting to match the Klingon’s curved swords in combat new blades with time and time again the same result. Today this Klingon with the dagger and some proudly displayed disruptor Byblos wouldn’t hesitate to get in a fight with. Years ago, his father taught him the Klingons though seemingly built for combat from birth; they like any other race had certain weakpoints in their physiology. Byblos knew about these and Klingons were not invincible. Nausicaans were not cowards when a Merc Klingon like this one was behind them. He hoped Shane understood it wasn’t the Klingon issue that made him address the Cyborg as “Sir”. In Byblos’ opinion, whether Shane liked it or not, he was running this show. Hopefully to a successful gain in intelligence for their own employer.

The Nausicaan wheeled his luggage cart to his rented out quarters and quickly closed the door. After a long exhale Byblos began his sweep for listening devices. Armed with only an outmoded Federation style Tricorder the odds were slim of detecting one. Also were the odds of their being one. Byblos did not think of the Gular Section of Andus like the previous planet they visited where the Boss DID tell them they would be on camera everywhere they went. After a sweep done more with his eyes than his tricorder, he deemed the room clean and sat on the bed to catch his breath. Byblos did not like being asked questions about what he was doing, period. No doubt there was a recording camera above the little processor's head. In retrospect, instead of taking Pher's lead at using his name, he should of used an alias. He had a record, and despite the Boss's opinion, he very much was concerned. He put his name, together with a camera. Most unwise. The quarters or small apartment were spartan. Bed, fresher, table, two chairs a viewscreen offering a variety of channels and of course paid entertainment. Byblos could use two hours of wind down time watching some Orion fantasy movie, but credit was not something Byblos had an unlimited supply off. Byblos stood and took another look at the fresher noting yet again another location that did not cater to a Nausicaan's height. He activated the faucet and with a deep bow washed his face. The head itself was again not sized well either. Oh well. What are the odds of a Nausicaan checking in? Byblos returned to his bed to lie down a few moments and think. He recalled be nervous at the processing area. The Boss was aware of it, certainly others. It was embarrassing to admit it, but the fact was Byblos was clearly out of his element off Tranquility. He was hired as muscle, and he thought for that reason only. He pictured his as job guarding Qob or the Boss himself, keeping unwanted fools off the boss's ship or shoes. Clearly the Boss had something else in mind for the Nausicaan, by actively participating in jobs to keep the crew functioning and perhaps profitable. But Byblos' lack of knowledge of Bull's Head was becoming an issue to him and he wondered if the Boss or Pher had the same idea. In his past he could plan OPS, because he had the knowledge of the land, and if he did not he had a slicer to pull up any map or holographic needed to get the job accomplished. Even as deck hand on his Father's ship, the area they raided freighters was consistent, and became familiar. At this rate it would take a very long time to familiarize himself with Bulls Head's many worlds. You could read about them, but being there was always different. The tour books didn't tell you about tailors who butcher individuals as well as sew clothes. So he was here at Andus. Pher would be the leader on this one it seemed, for the Boss seemed a bit more reserved lately. He would not speculate why. His job was only to obey: Intimidate, roughen up or kill if necessary. He told the processor at the gate he was formerly an exterminator. Vaguely that was correct. His current threads suggested a being looking for a job. So he decided not on a change of clothes. Did he need that stink stuff he asked Pher about? Perhaps he should shop for some. And what of those things Troy insisted on putting his mouth that seemed to mellow him out. Maybe he should purchase some of those, albeit larger. Byblos exhaled and began unpacking his clothes, he placed Shane's energy blade his belt. It looked more like a trinket when unpowered and given it was utterly customized it fit the role as a concealed weapon well. As for Byblos himself, he hoped he could fill some useful roll on this huge job. It was almost time to meet Pher and the rest. Talk about a fish out of water.

Byblos was not forging a sword in his quarters, since the only safe place to do such a thing was the Qob's small hanger bay. He felt anger at himself for not being able to work with this team. Anger was a good way to say something utterly wrong or get into a fight like most Nausicaans did..and ended up dead as a result. Instead Byblos worked on his body, doing pushups to drain away the famous "Nausicaan rage." He also exercised to try to think. His Boss, Joe in his mind did not have the crew for this job. The critical lack of someone who can access the Andus information grid THE RIGHT WAY, that is not to leave a trail. Was a huge handicap for this job. The mark was to high up the Gular chain of whatever Byblos thought. Muscles became sore has he continued doing pushups. He was going to go along with whatever Joe decided, but he had to speak from honesty, botched jobs on Tranquility usually happened when his crew was in the formative stage. Byblos having just landed Vargros, a gem of a find he rescued from Guardians in the streets...was what this current crew needed. But Vargros for all he know was dead, and not an option. This crew had talent, Byblos was beginning to observe. They were willing to think things over on how to do a job. The problem was a the lack of time working together. Byblos sort of knew Pher, and as for "Ethan" he could be anyone he darn wanted to be. Of course computers could get around disguises. But he still did not know this human, who impressed him with his operational planning capabilities..but where did he get them? ::muscles ached so Byblos turned to leg thrusts and continued thinking:: How in a targ's arse were they going to pull this job off? Joe was not going to back down, he didn't seem the type to refuse the amount of money Samus offered. And this ship desperately needed the funds for a repair job. They had to do the job. There could be no "plan B" as he mentioned moments ago. Byblos concluded after his body finally said enough. He turned and looked at all the apparel acquisitions he had obtained from the human known as Samus, of whom he certainly did not trust. Well, he had just pledged the Boss..err Joe his loyalty earlier. And Byblos was not going to back stab him by joining that imp Samus. In this game of "Klin zha" or what humans called chess. The board was not in the Boss' favor. Byblos believed Joe knew this. He had few pawns left, thanks to Duke Redding..a Pe`taq he (Byblos) for some strange reason wanted to kill having never met the guy. Joe was going to have to play the game with what he had left. The Boss had to defeat this job to achieve just another few months of survival.

::listening::"Hey I was joking about Duke Redding's head on a stick, although if the guy conducts business the way I understand he does, I'd make a fortune as a traveling side show! "::hah:: ::noone laughs:: Okay, whatever we choose, we have do to I presume Samus' timeframe is only. The amount of time the Mark is on this station. What I may of suggested earlier would take too much time. Shane is right about William. He's the one that sticks out the least among us. ::looks at Ethan:: "I could be wrong there. 'Mr. Disguise' Listen, I am in willing to support whatever actions we choose. One action I think we might ought to consider is a Plan B. And personally although the boss would not support it. I see every reason to keep it a viable option" "And Plan B means taking Samus back to his little "front of an office" where he can hide from his dirty deeds..and dumping this job. I am no coward, but we are not a cohesive team yet, and the lack of a slicer is a big negative on any effort we make. This job is very big, a hit on the Gular VIP? In his own nest? Gathering Strategic Intelligence? " ::Looks around:: "Yeah I said it. Option B. We pass on this one. And you can say to the Boss it was my idea as well. Let me know when you guys are settled. I have to a blade to work on.":: With that the Nausicaan left the scene of the conversation for his quarters..a large "clank" is heard, the slamming of a bulkhead door"

Byblos turned the corner upon hearing the question? Did someone say less conservative? Good Grief I could here you two from the Boss's Nest. How about this? "If anyone on this collection of rocks knows a Duke Redding...tell him his head is going to be at the end of my sword. Anyone want to enjoy the sight of scum on a stick? Just tell the ole' the Nausicaan where the Pet`taQ is so I can show you all, kind folks of Gular, a true work of art!" Byblos literally shouted. Byblos changed his tone. "Okay maybe a bit much. Listen, once we arrive these Gular folk probably want business. So I think we just shop. Now, Mr. Non Logical Vulcan who is not Vulcan but someone else has a point. We can't go in there looking like we are scoping the place. Just shop, trade..inquire. Pher, Ethan, I doubt ODRIs are going to be norm on strangers. My suggestion is leave'em. People scoped places out before ODRI's, are we not talented enough to the same? "Now I am willing to bet these Gular Consortium folks probably have a nice gentlemen's club. I would love to visit that place. Look at the Women, and just who the heck is putting latinum in their...uh ....::looks to Pher:: Panties? Of course I would be looking for people of interest." "Anways, we just stroll the place. If there are accommodations, we consider them. Now..::looking to Ethan:: I do not know what skillset you possess other than undercover work and martial arts...but if you can slice, or in your terminology; Hack a system, the accommodations list would be nice to know. If they don't have a hotel on these rocks for their people...we just go back to our ship and snooze. Then repeat the drill of shopping, enjoying the sites ..expanding the perimeter." "Now obviously we cannot pretend we are on a Gular trip, nor a family vacation." Byblos turns to Pher, "Sorry Lifeguard, I highly doubt they would believe I was your hubby." Just a ship's crew on a breather..that needs a breather..and hopefully with capital courtesy of Mr. Samus. We behave like normal travelers..setup a routine..for as long as we need to be here..which I am not certain. People who set up routines are less likely to catch the eye of whatever security this company puts on it's rocks. It also gives one a sense of direction in this place." Byblos stopped looked at Ethan then back to Pher. "Okay, Honestly I prefer putting Duke Redding's head on a pike...I admit!"

(written by Byblos and Joe Manning) Byblos having made certain he had lost his the individual known as Samus, decided he HAD to talk to the Boss. The last conversation with him bothered him and since the Boss knew Samus better than he did, he activated the Comm outside Joe Manning's quarters. "Boss, Byblos. I need to speak with you right now, regarding out guest." Byblos' voice betrayed urgency on the COMM.. "Just a second," Joe answered. The door to the Captain's quarters slid open. Joe had been sitting at his desk reading over some old letters he'd kept in his personal strongbox since coming to Bull's Head. The letters were once again stashed away, and Joe waved Byblos inside. "Boss, that guy Samus. I think he just tried to buy me off." "Did he now?" Joe did his best to sound surprised, though his face showed no such reaction. "Your use of the word 'tried' intrigues me, Byblos. I'm assuming you politely let him down? Or are you thinking about his offer?" "What he suggested he would do is, somehow get the bounty off of my head on Tranquility." Byblos shaked his head. "That just is impossible. He can't be that close with Savoy and, she's not the type to let go of a a guy that planned..but did not do the killing of a bunch of Guardians. And, Of course he purchases clothes for me before this all happens." Byblos looked at the deck then his employer.” "You have far more leverage on me than this guy Boss. I am not stupid as I look. Hence I thought you should know what he tried. As for what the heck he sees in me. I have no clue. I just said let me think about it" "Hmm," Joe stared at the wall behind his desk for a moment, then looked back up at Byblos. "Sounds like Samus to know about the bounty and to offer you a way out of it. And while I can guarantee you that he and Savoy are not close at all, I wouldn't put it past him to go right over Savoy's head and take it up with higher authorities in the Guardians. Samus collects favors in very high places." Joe turned his chair toward Byblos. "You Nausicaans do your business a certain way. Very keen on strong authority. The one running things -- the Boss as you would say -- is not unlike a tyrant; he has to be to stay in charge. The ones following either obey without question or rebel and find someone stronger to follow. That ain't the way I do things, though. While I expect my crew to trust my decisions enough to follow my orders when I give them, I also give my crew plenty of leeway and I never stand in the way if one of them wants to pursue other opportunities. "Truth is, Byblos, I ain't got any leverage on you that I see any reason to use right now. If you ever crossed me or my crew, tried to hurt one of us, tried to sell us out, I'd turn you over to the Guardians right quick. But I get the feeling you wouldn't do that without a damned good reason, any sooner than I'd turn you in without good reason. "You want to go work for Samus, be my guest. His crew is certainly stronger than mine. He'd pay you more. He might even be able to get the Guardians off your back or at least protect you from them. And he'd be no more of a tyrant than me. He might just be a better employer for a Nausicaan. Only caveat is that he'd expect you to get your hands dirty. You'd be doin' the same type of work that his pet thug Duke does for him, the work he likes to pretend his syndicate never stoops to. It's up to you to decide whether that's the kind of work you want, or whether there's more to your reluctance to leave this crew than knowin' that I have leverage on you." Byblos paused nodded then shaked his head and nodded again. "Boss, uh I mean Joe if I came across as you being a tyrant, My apologies. I just, well we haven't really gotten down to address each other. To be honest Joe, I don't trust Mr. Samus. The man plays himself like an extravagant wealthy man, then Pher, Chris and I go see his ‘Tailor’ and his associates disposing of bodies. Samus clearly gets his products from raiding starships. Maybe that Pet`aQ Redding is bringing the stuff in. How do I know? I did the same thing before I came to Bulls Head, albeit I was just a mop boy under my father's command. We boarded and butchered crews and took what we want or needed." "I'm done with that. I mean if you're going to jyke with me, you will pay the price. Diklyt made that mistake. Samus however, is relevant to our current job our pay. Two Years ago I made a foolish attempt to kill my boss, who clearly I underestimated.” Byblos trailed off.. "You, are an interesting employer. You let people wander aboard your ship alone with you by yourself, you let your employees do a lot of planning for you. You pilot a ship into battle that, My Father would have in a drydock. You are taking on a job at the moment that I would not, since this crew is not in sync. You hired me. You take big risks uh Joe. "I owe you one other piece of information not about Samus, but myself." The Nausicaan turned around took his jacket off then his longsleeve undershirt, revealing his back and the impact crater on his lower back. "It was a point blank shot. I am pretty certain as a result of the heat, I have some fused vertebrae. Or something. It has never been looked at." Byblos began to put his clothes back on. "You have the right to know when you hire damaged goods. I was too desperate to leave Tranquility to mention it when you signed me on. I have worked around the damage, strengthening my upper body and legs, but it does need attention." "I probably could get this fixed working for Samus, but. " Byblos tidied himself, turning to face Joe. " I prefer working to work with you. You are no backstabber. And if you need me to take the head of Duke Redding. It would be my extreme pleasure. Now I think I have taken enough of your time Boss, I'll leave now....” The Nausicaan departed Joe’s Quarters, hearing some conversation further down the hull.

Byblos turned to Ethan, "Your face is known on Tranquility? I suppose despite my best friend's efforts 2 years ago, where he did break the codes for the Guardian Criminal Database he deleted any traffic photos or other obscure photos of myself. Someone added a bunch of charges to my record. Probably a P'od Guardian Deputy. Although my face was not present in their database a few days before I joined this motley crew at the bar. I cannot guarantee the person who added additional charges on my record has replaced the image." Byblos leaned against the doorframe further turning his view from Ethan to Pher. "My beautiful face has to be considered compromised Pher. Certainly my name." Byblos chuckled. "Their is a joke that Nausicaans all look a like. But for a mark this big. I wouldn't take the chance running my face across this Gular's security team. Probably hooked up with the Guardians in some respect IF they are good." The Nausicaan paused. "I need to mention something to all of you again, I do not know the Cluster or Bull's Head as well as you all do. This talk of Gular's feeling threatened; That vial of whatever the heck Ethan is carrying and who wants it. Rainmakers in space, threats of something beyond the Rim..I just do not have the knowledge. This station is not a "web" in my head it is a "maze" of politics, schemes and people who I don't know. I will follow wherever this crew decides to go on this. ::looks to Joe:: Not like I have a choice. ::a small chuckle::

2418 Vassal Cycles of Death Headquarters, Warehouse ward, Unspeakable District The sound of a loud hovercycle was quite normal around the barracks of the Cycles of Death. Many riders loved to show off, or generate large plasma discharge sounds from their hovercycle’s customized exhaust system. What the two Nausicaan guards heard was in their minds quite pleasant; while humans who ironically created the same effect centuries ago with combustion engines were appalled by the loud roaring noise. The sound of transparent aluminum glass being shattered however was not something the two guards in charge of the treasonous Byblos found acceptable. With weapons drawn, they immediately unlocked and opened the door. Instinctively they looked at the shattered window next to their prisoner who still laid face down on the floor not moving. Then they saw the stone. A bright orange stone, which was about the size of a human baseball. Whoever did this was going to pay for this disturbance especially given who was knocked out on the floor earlier by a nearly point blank disruptor shot. Interestingly enough there was a note attached to the bright orange stone. One of the guards picked the brightly colored stone up for inspection..in crude Nausicaan writing it said...”LOOK BEHIND YOU.” “Check our six!” The guard with the stone said quickly, spinning around to the open door. His comrade turned around as well. Nothing or no one was seen at the doorway. Suddenly, a voice yelled from behind them “Surprise Pe`TaQs!!” along with two very powerful disruptor bolt shots, then a roar of the hovercycle the two guards had found amusing. The bolts that hit the guards were not of the type that hit the prisoner a few hours earlier. These bolts created a luminous effect upon them and subsequently vaporized the two guards. Byblos stirred upon seeing the light; he instinctively reached for the pain felt in his back. Next he saw a weapon drop from the window; his own motorbike disruptor rifle. Finally he saw Vargros tumble over the window and into the small prison room, in a hurry to close the door. “Time to go you big oaf! Get up Byblos! Get up now or we are both dead. Your bike is ready outside running fine.... C’mon!” “Vargros?” Byblos managed to barely speak as he tried to get up and was not having much luck. “Are you insane? Get out of here now before you are discovered.” “It’s too late for that now old friend. Jyke me, that’s worse than I thought it would be.” Vargros said while checking Byblos’s wound. The smaller Nausicaan retrieved a hypospray from his belt and pressed it on the wound. “C’mon that should help now let’s move!” Byblos drunkenly walked towards the window, not from the medication but the enduring pain in his back. It took a shove and a lift from Vargros to help get Byblos out the window and to the dirt next to something he was very familiar with. “My Ride?! Vargros, you rode my bike! You twit!” It was as if suddenly the pain was cancelled by anger. Vargros exited the barracks via the window as well, with the large weapon in hand. “Yes I did. Now are you going kill me like you foolishly tried to do to Death? Oh, you forgot! I have the gun! Now get on the bike; I’ll ride shotgun!” Byblos mounted the bike and noticed something right away. “Vargros, I can’t feel my lower back; I cannot steer with my body weight along with the handles. You have to ride front and steer. Besides, you do have a plan?” The sounds of targs barking and voices approaching made the smaller Nausicaan take the driving position. “Okay I’m on! Hold tight.” Suddenly Vargros could not breathe. “Not that tight!!” Byblos turned, spotted a rapidly approaching targ, grabbed the large disruptor from Vargros and fired. The targ ceased to exist with one shot. “Okay I can shoot. But get us jykin’ out of here! Wherever your crazy mind has planned!” Vargros had to stretch to grasp the throttle to max. The two fugitives found themselves immediately zooming down the barrack’s alley at high speed. “Dead end ahead!” “I know! When I give the word, press the green button on the throttle grip!” Byblos shouted. The driver nodded in response as a permacite wall suddenly got closer. “Now!!!” Vargros was stunned at what happened next. A rocket of some sort shot straight from the left side of the cycle, hitting the approaching wall. A large explosion took place creating a navigable breach and a large cloud of smoke. An hour later; Death’s lair. WELL DONE D. YOUR TEAM EVEN MANAGED TO TAKE OUT A FEW KLINGONS. THE MARSHALL WILL HAVE TO EXPLAIN THIS TO HER SUPERIORS AND AN AMBASSADOR AS WELL. Death looked at his computer screen. Monsoon, his supplier for this enormous mission, was extremely satisfied. But Death could not savor the victory that had cost him his entire attack team. Worse, the treasonous actions of Byblos who actually planned the raid. I UNDERSTAND THE CASUALTIES YOUR ORGANIZATION HAS TAKEN HAVE BEEN HEAVY. BE ASSURED THEIR DEATHS HAVE SERVED A HIGHER CAUSE. Death had to type an update to his supplier regarding the casualties. “I have lost more than six Cycles; I have been betrayed by the very one who organized the attack and by my slicer as well.” Death paused in typing, he had to be careful not to inflame Monsoon. “The loss of the first can be replaced. However, the latter is something you should be aware off. He is quite skilled.” THIS WAS BECAUSE OF THE KLINGONS CORRECT, AND A TRADITION YOUR PEOPLE BELIEVE IN. YOUR ‘AXIOM’. Monsoon never ceased to amaze Death. He knew of the Axiom? Nonetheless, Death typed in a clarification. “It is a rule when applied to hand to hand combat, not this operation. Byblos thought otherwise and was forcibly removed from the command center during the attack. Vargros, my slicer remained loyal until a few hours after the attack. Both are now traitors to the Cycles and will meet a painful end!” THERE ARE ALWAYS WEAK ONES IN THE FLOCK. WEAKNESS CANNOT BE TOLERATED. I AM AWARE OF BOTH INDIVIDUALS. THE FIRST, AS YOU SAID, IS NO CONCERN. HOWEVER, VARGROS I UNDERESTIMATED. DESPITE NOT BEING ABLE TO DECRYPT OUR DISCUSSIONS I DO NOT CARE FOR ANYONE MONITORING OUR CONVERSATIONS AT ALL. VARGROS IS QUITE A UNUSUAL FOR A NAUSICAAN. “What?,” Death typed “You knew Vargros was listening to our conversations? Mark my words,I will kill them both myself!” WHEN YOU CATCH THEM OF COURSE. A frigid chill ran up Death’s spine. How did Monsoon know of their escape? Did he learn via computer, or is there a remaining Cycle that is a mole for Monsoon’s organization? The Nausicaan was frozen to the point where Monsoon proceeded with the conversation. DO NOT WORRY D. THEIR TREACHERY WILL WORK TO OUR ADVANTAGE. ESPECIALLY YOURS. “How?” Death typed with haste. I SHALL MAKE IT KNOWN THAT BYBLOS PLANNED, ARMED AND EXECUTED THE ATTACK AGAINST THE GUARDIANS. HIS NAME WILL DRAW ATTENTION FROM YOURS. “I see. I shall make all available data on him available to you, But Vargros-” VARGROS MY ORGANIZATION WILL TRACK DOWN. WE WILL FIND HIM AND ENLIGHTEN HIM TO A NEW PATH OR BE DELETED. BYBLOS WILL MAKE THE FIRST MISTAKE. TO CATCH VARGROS, FROM WHAT I HAVE NOTED, WILL TAKE TIME AND EFFORTS YOUR ORGANIZATION DOES NOT HAVE. I TAKE IT YOU ARE MOVING YOUR BASE OF OPERATIONS AS WE SPEAK? Death did not even contemplate the move. The Cycles of Death retreat? Unthinkable! Yet, was Monsoon acknowledging that the treasonous targ, Byblos, might have been right? Death had to think again. He could defy Monsoon. He began to type, “The Cycles never retreat, even in the face of Klingons!” OH IT IS NOT THE KLINGONS I WOULD WORRY ABOUT YET. I DON’T BELIEVE YOU COMPREHEND THE SCOPE OF INJURY OUR OPERATION HAS INFLICTED ON THE GUARDIANS. THEY HAVE NO COMMAND STRUCTURE IN THE SUNSET DISTRICT. ELIMINATING A SHERIFF, NO MATTER HOW INCOMPETENT, WILL CAUSE A FIRESTORM OF A REACTION. FOR YOUR SAKE I SUGGEST YOU MOVE. IT WOULD BE A PITY FOR US NOT WORK TOGETHER AGAIN IN THE FUTURE. Our Operation? Death thought as he unseated himself from his terminal and stood looking at his lair around him.. Our...? Death then began to realize he was indeed dealing with a very powerful personage and no doubt had to be a Rainmaker. His next reply would be the worst thing he had ever typed as leader of the Cycles: a suggestion of vassalage. “I will immediately begin the move,” Death typed with a taste of disgust. A WISE DECISION MY FRIEND. IT WOULD BE REGRETTABLE NOT TO HAVE YOUR SERVICES FOR THE FUTURE. AS FOR YOUR TRAITORS, LEAVE THEM BE. I WILL HANDLE THEM PERSONALLY. With that line the screen went blank. And Death had, just like that, become a vassal to Monsoon and the organization Monsoon represented.

::A letter found slid under Joe's Quarter's door::Boss,This is the brief you requested regarding our mission.For an scientific geek brain mission this mission turned out to be nothing like what was expected.I must admit some elements to our failure to acquire the stuff Dr. Phantos probably wanted.Yeah..that on that ex-Feddie ship, Capricorn I messed up. We got isolated by some engineer and I got flashbacks of Tranquility. Sorry. I also nearly blew a Vestibul's crewman's head off. That I should of done. He was scum. But I sensed Pher wanted things settled down so I handed her my weapon Because he WAS going to have his head blown off. I regret not shooting the Pe`taQ he ended up working for Maxwell we found out later.When Troy Parson was assigned command upon his arrival, I must confess I was surprised. Never worked with a human so uh...can't think of the word...odd? We were sent back to Vestibul where I had to fly a shuttle for the first time in my life. I did not get us killed. But upon landing, Vestibul personnel were armed at ready to shoot Troy. He buried in me in wires I guess to surprise them. Everything happened so fast..Yeah I killed four men on that deck. Troy and I lived though.Where am I...this mission was oh...we go back to Zoalus via Capricorn's transporter to recover Ethan. What the illogical non-Vulcan was doing there I do not know. But we were determined to get him out. I tried to follow Pher the best I could under her command. Sure enough sh*t hit the fan and drones were on our six. Could of sworn I saw a black tentacle behind me. Not sure. In any case I used every trick to hold the six position. Alex dove in front and took a hit meant for me. Why?Not sure. In danger of being overun, I used a device I learned to kill...uh build for situations a weapon power cell set on overload. That caused more of a problem. A cave in. Yeah our six was secure but our six was blocked..next thing I knew we were on board Capricorn.I don't know Boss this mission was a mess. I had a hard time figuring out who were the bad guys, and different commands made it tougher. So, with the destruction of complex Ethan was in. I guess we failed to gather what we needed to get Paid.Sorry I killed 5 people this mission. That is not very clean I imagine in your books.Oh by the way yeah, I still have Dikylt's head if you want to mount it on Qob's bow. Let me know if you want it.-Byblos

2418 Treason Cycles of Death Barracks; Warehouse Quarter. Unspeakable District Even after a long day’s work in the dark tunnels of Tranquility City, Vargros utterly enjoyed working on his computer. The Cycles network was his contribution to the gang, maintained and partially financed by siphoning of funds of Guardian civil projects. The latter Vargros enjoyed the most, milking his enemies electronically without them knowing it. What Vargros lacked in Nausicaan combat and physical skill he more than made up for it with his knowledge of computer engineering. But the code on his display screen, on his network he built under Death’s command, was not his. And he couldn’t decide what was worst at the moment, the electronic intrusion into his domain or the horrid snoring of the Nausicaan behind him. It was time to wake Byblos up from the dead. “Hey ‘killer’...got something to show you,” Vargros gave his roommate a swift kick. That action produced a couple of growls and coughs from the bigger Nausicaan but failed to wake him up. Vargros could understand why Byblos was exhausted. He had carried the large ODRI defeating device underground for miles. Beneath the target, he stood guard for the 2 hour installation job. Finally, the “old” guy walked home with the sore back he always complained about. Relentlessly. Clearly something else had to wake the big guy up. The luke warm beer to the face did the trick. “What the jykin’!” Byblos awoke to a wet face of bad brew and was quite upset. “Vargros! You son of a cyberwhore! What is the matter with you!” “Time to talk now that everything is in place buddy.” Vargros stood and slid his chair away from the screen towards his groggy friend. “I am too jykin’ tired from being your Orion slave at this hour!” Byblos dried himself with a tattered blanket. “I need sleep, not one of your cybersex videos! And my back is..” “Very vulnerable according to what is on my computer screen..look at the text on the screen.” Having stumbled out of his bunk and checking to see if the door to the outside hall was closed, Byblos cleared away the foul beer in his eyes and looked at the screen. “This is not Porn, nor amateur Guardian death video. What the heck am I looking at, Smartarse!” “That my friend is a conversation, taking place between the Boss and someone we do not know.” “So what? Death is the Boss he can talk to whomever he pleases, and what the hell are you doing eavesdropping on-” The Nausicaan held his back and looked at the odd looking text displayed on the terminal. “What language is that? It’s all numerical.” “That my friend is a friend is a very, very sophisticated computer code which I have been very curious about. You see, Death the great biker leader he is, does not possess the skills to decipher let alone operate such a level of encryption and I did not install it on our mainframe.” “Wait, let me think.” Byblos pulled up a chair to the ancient Federation monitor that served as Vargros’ eyes into his cyberworld. He also noted Vargros activating some sort of Tricorder-like device that illuminated a green blinking light. The Nausicaan tech master only hit that button when he did not want to be heard by anyone. “Who is Death talking to?” “I wish I could tell you, but I have no idea. What you are looking at is a type of encryption called Fractal. It is rumored that even the Borg could not crack a form of that code. And I did not install it into the mainframe when this first appeared months ago.” “Wait, you knew someone HACKED your-our network months ago and did nothing? Vargros this is what we depended on you for to prevent Guardians from-” “I assure you Death has not been conversing with a Guardian Slicer for the past six months.” Vargros turned from the screen to Byblos with a face he had not seen before. “Byblos, everything you have requested for you have recieved from Death the last six months. He did not even demand you to trim a single order for weapons, armor, tech- Byblos stopped Vargros. “Enough! I agree, Death is getting ‘gifts’ from someone else.” The Larger Nausicaan stood from his chair putting his hand on his chin in thought. “You said this was downloaded into our computers, so whoever Death is talking to made the first contact?” Vargos nodded. “Yes, and all those small raids other Cycles have been performing outside the district began when this,” Vargros pointed at the screen. “When this began. Byblos you saved my life when I first arrived on Tranquility, now it is time for me to repay that debt. Someone has taken control of the Cycles. Death is just following orders. Brother, this last mission must be our last. If successful, the Guardians will hunt every Nausicaan down in the City. Death is being used. We are being used.” Byblos tried his best to digest what Vargros was getting at. Vargros was a Brother, rescued by him seven years ago breaking into a Guardian Credit Union ATM. He would not make this up. Whoever Death was conversing with was not a Nausicaan. After a few moments staring at the ground, he resumed the conversation. “If this has been going on for six months with you watching, he doesn’t know you are watching him. Right?” “Death is not strong with computer knowledge. He wouldn’t know I was maintaining a constant presence on the mainframe unless whoever he is talking to told him. I figure if that were the case, I would not be alive today.” Byblos began pacing. “We best not tip our hand before the Garage Op. Let Death get his big moment of glory with his ‘friend’ and afterwards we get out of Tranquility. But how the heck are we going to do that? We can’t simply ride to the spaceport and ask for a ticket to Nausica!” “Don’t worry brother,” Vargros grinned placing his hand on the taller Nausicaan’s shoulder. “I have not been just watching Death and his new best friend; I have been planning an exit strategy for us. Here is how we are going to stop playing pawns in some Pe`taQ’s game.”

2418 Death’s Lair Cycles of Death Hideout, Warehouse Quarter. “It shall be done sir.” The Nausicaan bowed his head in respect and sealed the door behind him, which left the Leader of the “Cycles of Death” to get back to the business he was conducting via a COMM scrambler terminal at his large desk. Death was his name within the “Cycles.” His former birth name long discarded, his current name was given to him decades earlier by other Nausicaans who saw him in combat. The senior Nausicaan of the hovercycle gang considered what Byblos had brought up: the inevitable Guardian counterattack his team would encounter if any distress signal or civilian tipped off additional Guardians to the target site. Byblos was requesting more armaments, capable of holding off any Guardian speeders responding to the attack. Type 3 Grade Phaser rifles he requested, now he must ask his ally for more funding and a fast delivery. The leader took a seat at his desk, decorated with the skulls from many he and the “Cycles” had slain over the years: those who failed to pay tribute or those who simply got in the way. He had long forgotten to whom they belonged specifically, although he knew some were what was left of Guardians of years past. But times had changed, and the Guardians were more formidable than ever. Three years earlier Death had decided to take a risk and quietly contact others he knew had no love for the Guardians. All had turned Death down, mainly for the fact they were a cycle gang comprising only of Nausicaans, viewed as nothing but undisciplined killers who needed to be on a leash...or in an arena to fight Klingons to the death. Then, six months ago Death was surprised when HE was contacted by someone. At first he was unnerved by the hacking into his computers by an unknown individual known as “Monsoon”. Whoever Monsoon was or what people he represented, slowly gained Death’s trust by funneling currency into the depleted coffers of the Cycles. Next came weapons, spare parts and communications gear all delivered to a rendezvous location the Nausicaan leader was able to designate. The only odd thing about the transactions was the insistence that all deliveries were to be made without the Cycles present. The Nausicaans simply picked the deliveries up after Monsoon’s people had sent to drop them off. The Cycles also received state of the art encryption programs to maintain the secrecy of their budding relationship. Death was willing to schedule a meeting with Monsoon on more than one occasion to discuss some form of compensation for everything the mysterious contact’s group had provided. He or she declined insisting encrypted messages were only necessary and the payment for such items be rendered by the murder of certain Guardians Monsoon requested. The upcoming mission against Deputy Shrike and his fellow guardians required a different means of doing business. The intel he had received about the Guardian ceremony provided too tempting of a target for a normal supply drop from Monsoon. Quickly, Death needed specific weapons and a delivery time of his choosing: the time to act was now. He activated the provided encryption program on his old-Federation era computer station, sending the special request. He thought they would not agree, given he was naming the targets provided by his own hacker Vargros. Once again Monsoon surprised Death with his answer: IT SHALL BE DONE. OUR CONTACTS AT THE SPACEPORT WILL DELIVER THE REQUESTED ITEMS TO YOUR CACHE. THE COST TO YOU IS ONLY MORE GUARDIAN CASUALTIES IN THE FUTURE. -M The Nausicaan immediately closed the COMM. Whoever Monsoon was, he had significant access and funding, beyond Death’s reach. Did Monsoon act alone or was he part of an organization? Experience taught Death it was better not to ask. The Cycles had been receiving weaponry and funding from this contact for months now. The only payment was the murder of Guardians in each mission. Could it be a Guardian at the other end of the channel? Possibly. But that theory made no sense given that specific Guardians had been killed at Monsoon’s request. Still, the temptation was there to order his underling Vargros, the most talented slicer Death had ever known, to attempt to reveal who Monsoon was. Instead the Leader took a different course of action, asking the best linguist of the Gang what a “Monsoon” was or if it meant anything. Death learned a few hours to later of a weather pattern, on Earth of all places, called a Monsoon. A seasonal shift in weather patterns that brought rain to dry climates. The 60 year old Nausicaan rubbed his chin pondering what the codename signified. A Rainmaker? TheRainmakers. The most wanted terrorist group of all Bull’s Head had been supporting his Cycles war against Guardian control of Tranquility’s small Unspeakable District. Death pondered what the revelation meant. Why? This required all the thinking the elder Nausicaan could muster. It also required Death to keep this a secret from his Nausicaan brothers in arms: for now.

2018 The Best Laid Plans Part 2 “Cycles of Death” Hideout Garage, Unspeakable District Byblos arrived with the holotable. Five Nausicaans who were lounging around the garage, on bikes and with their weapons ready, immediately noticed the older Nausicaan’s arrival. “You are getting to old for this Byblos! Need a cane?” Joked the shortest of the six. The others laughed as they gathered around the holotable Byblos hefted into place in the center of the garage. “Jyke you, Shortster” Byblos replied and immediately withdrew his blade from its sheath. The six fellow members of the “Cycles of Death” knew it was business time. Byblos turned on the holotable with his blade tapping the flat surface of the one meter square. A map of the western end of the Unspeakable District appeared. “Byblos why aren’t you riding with us on this one?” Another nausicaan who sported a guardian belt buckle stapled to his head asked. “That is a good question, Buckle, and I will let you know the truth. The truth is the six of you best possess the abilities in the Cycles that remain to deal a counterstrike to the guardians. You shoot the best and ride the best. This job requires THE BEST,” Byblos emphasized, “hence, Death summoned you here.” The Six looked at each other then back to Byblos upon the mention of Death. The elder leader of the “Cycles of Death,” one who usually doesn’t bother putting together a job, just demanding his respect at his age for having killed so many. “Death has spoken and demanded we strike this garage.” Byblos zoomed the 3-D holo to a garage with a street to its east, one to its west and a short connector road directly north of the garage. “The Cycle has learned of a high level guardian ceremony taking place here at this two level garage, honoring the Pe`taQ responsible for making their speeders capable of catching our hovercycles. Also present will be the deputy who devised the “Cycle Catchers” to the front of their speeders.” All spat and growled upon both improvements to the guardians speeders which had resulted in the capture and deaths of many of their number. Instantly, the six were motivated by the revelation of the elusive engineer Winston and hated Deputy Shrike would be present. “There will be many guardians present, including the sheriff.” Byblos added. Given their numbers we have been given permission to use the ‘Trike’, to mount a special delivery Death has arranged with those who also share their anger with these guardians. “Shortster, Buckle, the rest of you, open the crate Longbeam was lounging upon my arrival!” After a limited effort the crate was opened, a duranium Starfleet “Argo” heavy phaser cannon case was prominently obvious. The nausicaans looked inside and all six were smiles. “Four cycles, with disruptor mounts and pistols will block the streets to the east and west. The ‘Trike’ with its driver will position itself on the north road for a full field of fire into that garage . All shall perish.” Byblos sheathed his blade. “Byblos, their ODRIs will detect us coming even with our cycles at their quietest let alone the ‘Trike’ with that cannon’s power supply.” A Nausicaan of at least 2.5 meters height pointed out. “Excellent point Longbeam.” Byblos replied to his fellow gangster. “But before their ceremony even begins, their ODRI toys will be rendered useless by yet another gift from Death.” Byblos smiled, with some embellishment. The six “Cycles of Death” members present erupted in cries of anticipation of the job, the anticipation of mass slaughter of guardians was too much for them to contain with mere words.

Byblos caught the rifle that Shane tossed at him. He looked at it, noting it to be a better weapon than his disruptor that he had given to Pher when he thought he was going to lose it. Byblos made a note of it being a type-3 Phaser rifle, one of the early ones. A vast improvement indeed over the small disruptor. Nonetheless he set the weapon aside and took a seated position. An intense debate was going on as to what the situation was, and how to handle it. Shane had been shot in the shoulder Byblos also noted. A non-life threatening wound but painful nonetheless. He had to be pissed, adding intensity to the debate between the crew that had assembled and grown since he was granted passage from Tranquility. The Boss would not be pleased over any of this. Byblos had to count himself in as well. Nickles, Pher and William had to settle him down. Troy was right. He did throw a tantrum. It was just fortunate he had enough control left in him to ask the others to disarm him. He vowed he would not be caught alive on Tranquility after the Targ hit the fan two years earlier, and apparently he still held on to this vow despite not being on Tranquility. Nickles again pointed out he wasn't the only caught in the mess trap earlier. He also blasted him for living in the past..and to get to the present. The man known as Chris Nickles, despite his phermone addiction symptoms was a man who earned his respect. William, the ex Guardian-Byblos had to think that over again. A former Guardian! Byblos had to confide in his mental pitfalls courtesy of Tranquility. He did not know if William would keep what he told the Ex-Guardian private. But Nickles made a good argument for forgetting tranquility and live for the moment. AT THE MOMENT however, he saw a crew showing signs of it's age. These guys hadn't worked long enough with each other to compliment ideas into a quick plan of action. He had seen this before, in biker gangs on Tranquility. Many formed, but few were effective as a unit. This crew was facing some Human named Ford who was clearly not a stupid Pe`taQ and had earned the respect of others aboard this Feddie-Pirate ship. Tomar Raj, who seemed reasonable, appeared outmaneuvered by Ford's group while trying to be Captain of the ship. The Qob crew was facing an unexpectedly worthy adversary. So, instead of childishly sitting in the corner, why wasn't he participating in the discussion. Byblos thought a moment. Nickles told him to CONTRIBUTE. But he didn't have any knowledge of Federation ships of this type. Slicing into her systems like Shane and William had apparently done was something he just didn't have the skillset for. He could PLAN things, but he lacked an understanding of the Layout of the Capricorn. For one to plan an attack or someone's demise, one had to know where his adversary was. And this Human named Ford was the ship's engineer. He knew Capricorn. He could be hiding in a Sonic shower controlling the blasted Ship for all Byblos new. So what could he contribute..... One thing Byblos had a knack for was Destruction and Mayhem. Byblos wondered...with if Ford's World started falling apart...in a Big Way? He looked at Nickles, then Tomar Raj, and next Shane. No way would they agree to this wack idea. But his instructions were to contribute.

As you can see a log was posted three times by the server. I say server, since it never responded to my first post..I canceled, reposted, canceled again upon nothing upon lag. The latest time stamp entry is the most correct version of the log. I no longer can delete posts, if someone could can the first two appearances of "Getting Familiarized" I'd appreciate it. Byblos player

Getting Familiarized... After the Boss' holo-head disappeared from the table, Byblos noted the group beginning to disperse. He noted the second in command Chris Nickles being present. He hadn't really had time to talk to him on Qob or since the retaking of the Vestibul bridge where Nickles treated a disruptor graze to his leg. Something was stabbing at the back of Byblos' mind about the Boss, perhaps it was nothing of concern. Nonetheless he had to pass on what his thoughts were about the "rat" loose on Capricorn and how dangerous he felt the threat was. The Nausicaan approached the human cautiously, not certain if Pher still was treating Nickles for pheromone addiction. "Sir..do you have a moment?" The Nausicaan had both hands behind his back, a form or respect he figured. He knew he looked terrible in his battered outfit. But he had to break the ice. Chris looks up from what he was reading. "Sure Byblos, what is it you wish to talk about?" Chris closes whats in front of him giving the Nausicaan his full attention. "Have a seat Byblos." "Someone tried to kill me, Vestibul personnel and Koora ..someone also tried to kill you guys on the transporter. The methods used suggest the Pe`taQ is not stupid. I think...you should stay close to Pher. If the killer aboard this ship kills the only Orion aboard this ship..." Byblos does not finish the statement as he took his seat. "What evidence do you have about us being targets as well as yourself? Have you said anything to Joe about this?" Chris didn't pick up on what He was getting at about the last Orion being on board. Byblos couldn't help but blink. "Sir..when you beamed aboard it was a miracle you arrived from what I heard. Shane and others had to fix the transporter just as you were inbound." The Nausicaan looked puzzled, if uncomfortable if one could read his face. "Sir, you did just listen to our brief with the Boss? This ship is compromised..he wants us to help the Vestibule people secure it once and for all." A slight pause and the Nausicaan tilted his head quietly adding something. "You still need Pher don't you?" "Of course I still need Pher, Shes ........ our Head of Security..." He then pulled out of his haze and shook it off. "I heard what Joe said. Do you have a plan?" Byblos retreated slightly in his chair. He had been around humans on Tranquility enough to know when they were not going to answer your question. "Sir, I am just a big guy with muscle...that's all I am to this crew and the Boss. I don't plan anything..I simply obey. I have...done things in the past on the planning stage. But that "Cycle" of my life is over. Pher is going to need to lead the way as Head of Security..but...you are the #2. I mean if the Boss met his end. You would take over the business right? Hence I defer to you sir...or Pher if you wish." Chris looked at the Nausicaan. "You have a point. Don't sell yourself short my huge friend. You are not just the big guy with Muscle, Everyone on this ship has their jobs to do. Now's not time to cut yourself short on them or the team. I guess we will have to wait to get the ques from the boss or Pher herself. But remember this, everyone on this ship is important in his or her own way." Chris points to the huge guys drink. "Want another?" Byblos admired Nickles for trying to raise his self-esteem back from the demolition it had taken on Tranquility. "Sure Nickles..and..err" ::looks away briefly:: "Thanks." "Welcome My friend." Chris poured another for the Nausicaan. "I'll be glad to get back home."

Kerris! Hang in there. Not often two tropical systems decide to die and dump their remains over the same area (NE) so soon. And of course the wind. I imagine some roads, and power lines that are decades old kerplunked and now....after you can get through this tough spell..you'll have some new lines and repaired roads. I always wondered how WiFI works in heavy rain wind. I doubt cable had an advantage..if it's set up like here in CA..the Cable Internet is on the power poles! Hang in there...keep watching the tropics. Byblos

"Boss, regarding sending me to the Vestibule to gather a fix team for the Connie..I realize with Pher and Selek planetside you've got no other option. But Maxwell is not going be happy with it. I know when someone doesn't trust my judgement, after what I did with Diklyt I sort of see where he's coming from. You sure he's going to let me take care of his team?" "He's got no choice," Joe answered without looking up from the flight station. "Dr. Phantos made it clear that any aspects of the mission that do not entail archaeological study of the planet are under my discretion. Well, the mercenaries' discretion to be exact, but the Lucky Hand ain't exactly been cooperating since this job started. Captain Maxwell very graciously provided me with three extra bodies for the crew, and they are under my command until I send them back. Treat them like they're members of our crew -- don't put them in any excessive danger that you wouldn't put the rest of us in -- and Maxwell will have to live with it." "And Boss regarding the crew of the Connie. I am not so confident as you are that a deal has been stuck between yourself and these "people". If I am to guarantee Maxwell's team's security I need something to convince them not to mess with us. I cannot keep an eye on all of them aboard that ex-feddie ship during repairs. How about bringing Diklyt's head for a show and tell as to say 'Don't jyke with us.' " The Nausicaan grinned after stating his proposal. Joe turned his chair to look at Byblos then. "Diklyt's head?" he asked, blinking in disbelief. "You still got that thing on board?" "Well of course, Boss." The Nausicaan attempted to explain himself. "I thought it might be needed to send a message to the crew of the 'Connie' if someone didn't take us seriously and well," Byblos delayed a second .. "also I thought one day it might look good attached to the front of the ship... But! Mostly for the keeping the others inline. Hmm..I suppose since you weren't aware of ole` Diklyt's lovely head still aboard.. I was successful in creating an airtight stowage seal..guess I haven't lost my touch in stowage skills! Hah!" The Nausicaan habitually chortled. "I hope it's airtight." Joe shook his head. "Can't let you bring it over though, Byblos. I seriously want to avoid any more hostility with these people, in part because I get the sense that most of them are good people in a bad situation, and in part because if they get backed into a corner they could wreak havoc with their transporters. I want to play this as pleasant as possible. "When I chatted with their team on Verbistule, I got the sense that Diklyt was a hero to these people, even if he'd gone astray the last few years. Bringing his head aboard his old ship doesn't send quite the message I want to get across to these people." Joe turned back to the flight station. "We'll discuss attaching it the ship another time." "Okay Boss just let me know when you want to add the hood ornament! Hah!" The Nausicaan departed the bridge with a curt nod and a smile forgetting just for a moment the task Captain Joe Manning had set before him.

The crews quarters were giving me the headache..err..Byblos...no me the headche with the second deck neck. What the above is a template that can be edited easily. It's not the dorsal view I'm thinking of, nor it's own deck and location listing..that can be edited. That large second deck on neck could be changed to crew quarters to fit with things in the website description captain's included. That odd placement of placement of the captain's quarters on top of the bridge can be rectified with sensor equipment. A single command deck can be achieved by reworking (enlarging) the photon torpedo launcher room below to accommodate the 30 torpedoes capability (though not realized) mentioned in the guideline. The result is reconfiguring the the entire front head of the ship to have one command deck..as per website. Note the engineering hull has four decks as per website guideline, obviously the aft torpedo launcher would be replaced with something else. Waste and water reclamation systems would be added. There is a lot of space to work with. And a lot of things that can be done with that space to accommodate things mentioned in the website. Heck where's the mess hall! Anyways Joe, I've done a little deck work on Manticore before with a similar diagram on the top of Zaphod's image..granted it was all black and white. It would be fun to give it a try. Of course Zaphod may have more tools than I do to get the proposal done. It would be fun.. Byblos, player the insane Starship Freak.

Or are we big enough? I think this image is good to think about, because it refers to what Bird of Prey (B`rel) we are familiar with...the "Bounty." Granted Qob is near 100m if I read the website correctly. Suggesting most images of BoP's on the web are too small to rep Qob. Although drat I always liked that image of the BoP flying over the whaling vessel. I guess we wouldn't fit in the screen.