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Galactic Encyclopedia: The Jovian Moons Campaign Part 3
Posted By: Dark Void<gregoryprill317@hotmail.com>
Date: 18 February 2005, 8:49 PM
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Entry GE6-767:
2160 March -June:
[indent ]During the beginning Jovian Moon Campaign, the UNSC was still, by and large, an insignificant military power, and would have most likely lost had it not been for the military genius of one man, commanding and experimental craft with untested weapons. What these weapons were, and who this man was, are still classified, and more information could not be obtained from the UNSC on the matter. [Continue reading article] Y/N?
0800 hours, March 21, 2160 (UN Military Calendar)
UNSC Cruiser Sparta, Io Orbiter 001, Sol System
After the Dedication Ceremony disaster, the colonial fleet had been given permission to land. Cole had planned to go with them, but after the Friedens attack, he had been re-commissioned. He was about to be briefed about why, and where. He was in the UNSC's office, awaiting to be seen by Fleet Admiral Jacob "Queens" Rodriguez. Rodriguez was famous for how he had attained his rank, the in the Queens Incident, which nearly leveled half of New York if, then Lieutenant, Rodriguez hadn't been able to get his squad inside a terrorist held fusion power plant.
[indent ]Even though his appointment had been at oh-seven hundred hours, it wasn't until oh-eight thirty that Rodriguez could see him. Queens' secretary, a slim, attractive brunette obviously of African-American came out into the waiting room, and said "The Admiral can see you now. Please follow me." As she said this, a suspicious, darting figure came out of the Admirals office, taking in his surroundings, and leaving them even quicker, not letting Cole get a really good look at him.
"Thank you," the Commander said courteously, following the secretary, "Who was that man who just left?" he inquired. The woman did not reply, but gave him a foreboding, sort of frightened look. Cole new that look, don't ask questions you know I can't ask , it said. He took the hint, and let her lead him through her office, into the Admiral's.
"Robert, it's good to see you again. How long has it been?" said the Admiral.
"Ten years, old man. It's been ten years. That squad reunion thing the old Marines put on for us a few years after Queens. How have you been Jacob?" The squad reunion had been ten years ago, five years after the queens incident, when Jacob, Richard, and the rest of their squad had infiltrated a terrorist held fusion power plant in Queens, New York.
"I remember that. Those guys were a good bunch of guys," he responded, then his tone turned cold, all business now, "Richard, Something has to be done about the growing terrorist movements, Frieden, Koslovic, and everything inbetween."
"So the UN is finally taking them seriously. It's about damn time." Said the Commander. He had known that the Friedens and Koslovics would become a serious problem from the beginning.
"Yes, they are. And now that that they've finally got that part pat down, they decided to follow through." Jacob said, getting up, and striding over to the observation window, which was behind his desk. It started about waist high off the ground, and went up to the ceiling, and spread from wall to wall. "Come here Richard. I want to show you something." Richard hesitated briefly, then got up and walked over. "You see down there, the ship attached to Docking port 3?" Cole indicated he did with an affirmative grunt, "It's the first of it's kind. Bloodstream Class. And now, Captain Robert Cole, she's all yours."
Stunned into silence, Cole said nothing for a long moment then managed a weak, "Thank you sir. It's a honor." Cole had been expecting any number of things, but this was definitely not one of them.
1700 hours, March 21, 2160 (UN Military Calendar)
UNSC Offices, Io Orbiter 001, Sol System
Richard had taken command only a hour before, and was taking a tour of the ship, being happily provided by the ship's chief engineer, Patrick Connolly. "The Sparta, is class Bloodstream, and is equipped with a new, experimental weapon called a Magnetic Accelerator Gun, or jus' MAC for short. They hurl huge hunks o' metal along a magnetic coil, at speeds of anywhere between 500-1500/Meters per second. The Sparta has two o' these, and a liberal compliment of MKII STS tactical warheads, and a crew compliment o' three dozen, plus a half dozen Marines, and now yerself as well."
"What's her best speed, Connolly? Fifteen, sixteen sectors an hour, maybe?" inquired the new Captain.
"That was what she did 'afore I got ahold o' her, sir. With a moderate number of tweaks and modifications, I can get her up to twenty-one steady, twenty-five if you really want to push her." The engineer boasted proudly.
After the tour of the relatively medium sized ship had concluded, Richard having met the Marine Sergeant, and found him a very agreeable person, learnt about the supposedly 'few' modifications to the engines, he found himself on the bridge. To his surprise a very familiar brunette approached him there. "Alexandria Circumstance, First Officer, reporting for duty, Sir!" The Admiral's secretary.
"Nice to see you again... Alexandria, was it? Good to have you aboard."
"Good to be aboard, Sir. Request permission to dissembark from the station, Sir."
"
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