Even if Kang hadn't already decided to stay by the tavern, he wouldn't have been able to get very far from it before running into hordes of robots. They'd moved into the City quick (or had they been there all along?), and several were making a beeline that way, from all directions in an attempt to completely surround it, their intentions clear.

Cursing, he rushed over to the other building, where he happened to live, to grab his armor and weapons. He'd gotten out of the habit of carrying more than his dagger when he was in the tavern itself; that was something that was no longer going to happen. By the time he got back downstairs, he could already hear their approach, and he hoped that others would show soon. It was one of the slow hours, with little to no patrons.

[Planning thread is here.]

The battle had raged for three days with the occasional lull, and there was still no sign of Baron Raleigh and reinforcements. There had been heavy casualties on both sides; King Demetrius's forces had been cut in half, but that still left Nasat outnumbered two to one.

Things were about to change, though.

[OOC: The Spy's Report is now open!]

The previous night, the team had learned the details of the situation. King Demetrius Fenley had once been a fair but strict ruler. Three years ago, he had acquired a new advisor, a beautiful woman named Diana Wynnthrope, who came from a small nation on the other side of the mountains. The changes were subtle at first, with the king becoming more suspicious of others’ intentions and enacting harsher laws.

Baron Archand had noticed these changes, and had spoken up about the new laws. He had always respected his king. What had happened?

Nasat was located near a mine that produced precious gems and metals for the kingdom. King Demetrius had become convinced somehow that the town was not paying its fair share of taxes, and accused the baron of hoarding said gems and metals to fund an army and take the crown. Archand had done everything in his power to refute the false claims, but to no avail. So, with word that the king was sending an army to seize the rebellious town, he had sent for aid from his friend Baron Raleigh in Pertus. Raleigh had readily agreed, also being uncomfortable with the new laws, and was further seeking the help of the bronze dragons (bronze dragons that looked exactly like Crucible) in the nearby mountains he had his own alliance with. Unfortunately, Raleigh’s troops would not reach Nasat before King Demetrius’s.

It was impossible to find a person in Nasat that wasn't helping to prepare for battle in some way. Even the children were busy, packing food and clothing for evacuation and carrying supplies to and from for the adults.

There was an entire section of the town dedicated to the creation of weapons and armor: women making arrows, blacksmiths forging blades and breastplates, and engineers building siege engines. Oil was being gathered, along with firewood, and a fire brigade was sent out to place buckets of water in strategic locations throughout the town. Mages gathered and shared their spell components with each other.

Nasat was clearly a town where everyone was used to helping their neighbors, and happy to do so.

Baron Archand was not adverse to getting a little dirty and helping out himself, either. While making his rounds, he worked the bellows for the master blacksmith for a few minutes, chatted with a group of older ladies while fletching arrows, and dug one of the holes for a wooden spike with a shovel.

Sentries had reported that King Demetrius's forces would arrive the next day, and there was much more work to be done.

[OOC: Backtagging in the previous post is definitely okay and encouraged! The next post will be going up on November 26th.

Feel free to NPC the townspeople in the first subthread! You can be creative with how your characters help with preparations, too, so have fun with it!

All subthreads are open!]

||Attention, Attention. The following personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Attention, Attention. The following personnel please report to the Observation Deck.

( Personnel )

Several significant data reports were still trickling in, and already Billy's overworked mind knew one thing: this workload was going to be one of his least favorites. Overwhelming, exhausting, sometimes confusing, and with the pressure of time attached as well. Stacy could simply not be relied upon to give the crew a break, and thus they needed to be prepared for a battle like that again. As soon as possible. But how soon was that? Today's meeting's purpose was to make it as soon as possible.

On the board against one wall of the lab, he threw up a starting list of repairs that needed to be made. All the significant weapons and armor that had been turned in, important communications equipment, crew items requiring immediate attention for that person's full functionality, the most often used generic vehicles, and the specialty/personally owned vehicles. That group would be the easiest to select, he hoped.

How easy or difficult this would be would not be fully known until he saw a spread of who was assisting, and how many. Could they complete everything fast enough for the crew's satisfaction? That would be the main worry from here on out.

Billy was almost relieved when they started trickling in. As he waved, not quite as energetically as usual, they might notice one or two signs of the battle. His movements didn't look quite as easy as before, some trace of pain still behind them, and a long bandage now tied around his forehead. Some would look better, some would look worse. He sincerely wished to see more of the former than the latter.

They needed all the healthy help they could get.

Run by: Tetra
NPCS: Everyone

 The battlefield in the space above Lirath was a tumultuous mess. being both inviting targets for barrage in and of themselves, and also forcing the GIA ships to stay in close to protect them instead of allowing for more maneuvering room. The ice ring around Lirath had been blasted apart, resulting in giant chunks of ice drifting through fire- and sight-lines, providing opportunities for both cover and ambush as well as destruction for the dog-fighting ships weaving in and out of their treacherous paths. The wreckage of GIA and Ohm ships made movement through the battlefield downright hazardous -- who knew if there were still live weapons aboard any of them, just waiting to be tripped by an unwary pilot? The gravitational forces of the nearby planet Kehoe were an unwelcome addition to an already chaotic battlefield, making navigation difficult.

Ohm shrikes strafed the bare handful of GIA capital ships present, causing soundless explosions in the vacuum of space and killing who-knew-how-many allies of Transmigration 9's crew in the process.The GIA fighters seemed barely able to dent the massive Ohm Leviathans that brooded over the planet like bloated, predatory spiders, and those that were still flying were massively damaged, hulls scorched by plasma fire, some barely held together with parts of them vented into space. In some places there were things that looked like clouds of specks-- groups of dead GIA crewman, lost to the void.

Before long, new Ohm bioforms would enter the fray, ones created to compensate for the ship's mecha.

In this scattered and scorched battleground, Starfighter Command would have to fight Ohm ships side by side with the exhausted forces of the GIA, braving massive chunks of ice, wreckage, and of course, the seemingly never-ending forces of the Ohm.

And the tide of battle was already turned against them.

[ooc: wait for subthreads to be set up before posting.

Subthreads open: 
First Wave and Second Wave, both open!]

Its time to unwind, relax and receive news of home. A pod pop occurred while some were on a mission and it's time to meet up with new friends, drink well with old, and relax.The Drunken Dragon has opened its doors and stands ready and willing to assist in forgetting the trials those on the mission experienced.




OOC: If you want a specific barmaid, just put their name in the subject. Otherwise, enjoy, intermingle and do as you like.

Allenby lay on her cot, tapping her feet on the wall. She was--well she wasn't exactly happy to be in here, but she wasn't mad about it either. She'd cooled off, and for the past however-long had been picking apart how badly thought through her idea was. Mainly because it hadn't been thought through at all.

She'd done something dumb and so she supposed this was only fair, though she was still pretty pissed that Command seemed to think she was completely in the wrong for getting upset after a whole lot of silence from them about the away team. Thirty damn people were down there; did they think nobody would want to do something?!

And she was even more pissed that they'd gone and mothballed her Gundam until she kissed up to Trudy, promising to be a good girl, sit up straight, and never question her again... or whatever would satisfy her, which was the main problem occupying her thoughts right now.

Well, at least Alan Turing was being taken care of.

[ooc: This is a general log for anyone in the brig who wants to interact with each other--prisoners, staff, or visitors. You don't necessarily have to talk to Allenby; feel free to set up your own stuff. o/ ]

Sonic got off light. Where he could have probably joined in on Allenby's romp into the brig, he was instead told to scrub the Quarter. Now, that wouldn't be a problem in and off itself - super speed has its perks, after all. But, being a four-foot hedgehog trying to scrub the deck of a space-worthy aircraft carrier? A little harder that it looks.

"Eeeaugh...! Sheesh, I don't mind the work, but couldn't of they gotten a small ship?" Sonic griped. Then again, glancing at the equally long Serpentera nearby, he got off light. Imaging scrubbing THAT thing. Letting out a sigh, he continued his work, trying to think of ways that would get the job done faster.

"Man, what I wouldn't give for those shoe brushes like in cartoons!" he uttered.

Being in command meant having to make the hard decisions.

Trudy knew that, but having to dishonorably discharge a talented pilot like Allenby still crawled under the collar and itched. Her shoulders took on a distinct slump as she walked through the hallways of the ship, mouth set in a hard line, going over the confrontation in her head. Could she have done anything differently?

Probably not. Allenby had been hell-bent on what she was doing and no amount of logic was going to dissuade her from flying down to the planet with just her Gundam and a small crew. Trudy was satisfied that she'd manage to stop her from getting herself and others killed... but the incident was a black mark on Starfighter Command and her ability to control her pilots.

These were the times that she hated her job.

Her boots hit the grass of Hydroponics and she made a beeline for the beer tree. She probably would have had better company at the Drunken Dragon, but company wasn't what she was after. Not right now, not after what had just gone down in the hangar.

Knowing this ship though, company would find her whether she wanted it or not.

This place was weird. The whole place, really, though at the moment, Sumeragi's mind was a little more focused on her surrounds. The... bar? pub? - she wasn't quite sure which - looked like some sort of gimmicky theme place. A tourist attraction. But it had been the first place she found, and they had vodka shots on the list, even if it also had mead. Honestly, did anyone drink that stuff any more? Well, there had been that one Norwegian architect in San Francisco... But that was a long time ago, now.

Free drinks, though - that she could get behind. She'd downed three vodka shots in rather rapid succession - the last twenty-four hours had desperately called for the haze of a few drinks to dull the sharp edges - and was now nursing some sort of rather strong ale the bartender had poured her. Neil and Christina... she hadn't expected to see them again. Nobody expected to see the dead, really - much less those dead by your own hands. Even now, the guilt still hung over her. She tried to push the thoughts away, and took another long drag of the ale.

Teyr only had two holidays. Understandable, given the fact that it was only a few years old, and draconians themselves hadn't even been around for five decades yet. They were still working on making their place in the world.

Well, they had been.

Kang was doing his best to not dwell on that thought as he walked through a recreation of one of the city's holidays. It was the Day of Hope, the anniversary of the day when his regiment had found and hatched the first females during the Summer of Chaos. The streets were packed with draconians of every type (children were very rare, and none looked older than a human two-year-old), as well as a few humans and even a dwarf or two. There were booths set up with food, alcohol, and crafts, as well as music being played; as new as draconians were, they did have many things unique just to them, and some of the more thoughtful ones used the opportunity to celebrate that fact.

There were areas that were set up for displays of athletics and martial abilities, and even a handful of booths with carnival-like games. One, run by a baaz, involved trying to launch a stuffed minotaur doll into dragon-shaped cups floating in a tub of water with a miniature catapult. The reward was a free flagon of hard cider. A kapak was profiting off of something that looked remarkably similar to a modern rope ladder game, though it was steeper and didn't have any padding on the ground.

Outside the city walls, there were several teams of draconians constructing trebuchets, each with a pile of pumpkins. The Corps of Engineers had gotten drunk the year before and decided to see who could make one that'd launch a pumpkin the highest and farthest, and all agreed that they needed to make it a yearly tradition. One of the teams was comprised solely of sivaks, and a particularly tall one, at just a few inches shy of nine feet, shouted orders.

He smiled, indulging in the memory, and sent a quick message to Eva. He didn't care if others showed up and decided to join in the celebration, but he had specifically invited her, once before.

[OOC: When I say rare, I mean like only about 100-110 children compared to at least 5,000 adults, and it's impossible to tell the sexes apart by sight unless you know what to look for. There's only 20 adult females anyways. Only sivaks can fly, and they don't really do much of that; auraks (gold scales) don't even have wings. They're also the most rare kind. Draconian heights range from 5' (baaz) to about 9' (sivaks), and the average height is about 7'.

This is a completely medieval setting, so if you're not sure about something, feel free to ask me. Also, if you are an attractive woman, you are going to get a few leers, and possibly comments from some of the draconians. Sorry, ladies. Anybody of a race that is not human, elven or dwarven is going to get some curious looks, too.

Infodump out of the way, it's open!]

The hallway just outside the med-bay was a pretty convenient place to be dropped. Doc would have wanted to go there anyway given the state he was in when GLaDOS finally spit him out, still smoking, in an unceremonious heap on the floor. He sat up slowly, looking himself over, patting a few places to be sure they were out before finally slumping against the wall opposite the one he'd fallen through, a slightly hysteric grin on his face beneath the mask. After a moment's stunned silence he began to laugh. "Hah...haha.... ROBOTS CAN'T CATCH YOU IF YOU'RE ON FIRE EITHER!!!" he finally shouted, throwing his arms up over his head in victory and then promptly flipping the bird at the wall. "SUCK ON THAT ANGRY TESTING LADY!"

After everyone and all of their ships were properly loaded the Quarter had launched successfully. The journey from Stacy to the Trojan Asteroid field trailing NiSaris took several hours, but they managed to approach the field with the people of the nearby world being none the wiser.

The problem was that the NiSarians weren't the only ones watching the skies.

As the Quarter approached and entered the asteroid field, all was quiet. But it was only going to be a matter of moments before that would change.


((ooc: See this post for instructions, but otherwise, have at it, and have fun.))

The rest of the crew assembled on the Observation Deck to meet the latest editions to their numbers. After the revelation that their worlds are gone, many of them are even more eager to see people they knew from home.

Several people are set up near the doors to provide the new people with omnicoms and comm rings. New crew-mates might see a tall man in green armor and snake girl among their number. There are also several authoritative-looking figures ready to introduce themselves.

There's a lot to tell the new people. It's going to be a lot to take in.

[ooc: Only new characters and Command Staff can start new threads for introductions, to limit the number of threads. Everyone else, just tag in and have your guys greet the newbies.]

It had been so long since Cassie had so much as seen an actual bed that it was hard not to close her eyes and fall asleep the moment she lay down in the Medbay. But there was still a lot to do first. For the long-term she was going to need several surgeries to fix the scars down her left side but for now the priority was to get her stabilized. So she was hooked up to an IV drip- oh, she remembered how those felt. And poked and prodded a little bit more before being left on her own.

She could rest now, but there was a lot to catch up on.

And probably a lot to explain.

Setsuna had shown her the way to the hangar after she had woken up on this ship and now she was going to look over the Virtue and 00 Raiser. If the suits were there, then she could take a look over them and make sure that they were indeed fully repaired and ready to fight if they were needed. She was also curious about these other 'Gundams' and wanted to see just what they looked like and possibly meet some of the other pilots.

She didn't have the Red Haro with her as she walked into the hangar and looked around. She spotted Exia, the 00 Raiser and Virtue immediately. They were familiar to her since she had worked on them before. She didn't recognize any of the other suits in the hangar. They were different than what she was used to seeing. They had similar builds to the Gundams that she knew, but they were all different.


(OOC: Open to any of the pilots!)

Cowabunga, largely due to having been in the Sensoriums all day, hadn't heard about the incident with Steve. He was currently engrossed in his project, and was using the Sensoriums to simulate it before making the attempt to contsruct it. Blueprints of the Tactical Arms IIL were pinned on the wall, while a three dimensional variant with an axe and rifle mode hung in the air in front of the Tauren.

"The transforming sections are still too flimsy..."

Trudy wasn't much of a programmer, but she thought she'd finally gotten the Sensoriums to understand what she wanted. The simulations of Zokez II had been modified to have all their pilots removed from the sim. Now it was just swarms and swarms of Ohm.

But the arriving pilots wouldn't know that right away - one of the things they trained on the least was actually getting into your ship and getting out the hangar door, and now that they had the carrier, that was even more vital.

So when the pilots arrived in the Sensoriums, they would find themselves not in Stacy's hangar, but in the hangar bay of the Macross Quarter. The fighters and gundams were arrayed throughout the hangar in neat ranks, all ready to go.

Trudy herself stood in her eyesore of a flight suit, her helmet tucked against her hip, waiting to greet people as they came in. She had some new faces to meet, after all.

But before anyone could get too comfortable, the wailing tones of Stacy's red alert sounded through the Sensoriums. [[Attention crew]] came Stacy's voice, [[We are under attack. Repeat, the Ohm are attacking.]]

"Get to your fighters! Rogue Two to the bridge - Wash, take us out!"

((OOC: Anyone currently in Starfighter Command or interested in joining is free to participate and hop in a cockpit. Shuttle pilots and crew will be manning their shuttles. The command staff and the council are welcome to observe the exercise but Trudy would prefer no civilian observers. Have fun! Shoot the Ohm with yer lazors, pew pew!))