If he was wearing a chronometer, he would have checked it. Lacking one, the Prime Minister managed instead by drumming his fingers on the altar impatiently while Simon wound his way through a long list of accusations and insults. "This wasn't a social call, Simon. You can save your rhetoric for your next INS photo opp, I have a war to run.

"So you're releasing Mr. Xen, thank you, he will remain in custody until we come to some conclusions about the events of Glee Anselm and then the courts will make their own decision on his involvement. Who knows? Maybe we'll find some level of culpability and send him on to Glee Anselm for trial. Or maybe just a clear sign of misconduct that'll result in disciplinary action. Or maybe nothing, depending on what actually happened.

"Anyone else you feel like returning as a measure of galactic goodwill or perhaps to set a precedent of fair prisoner exchange and treatment, feel free to send them our way. Otherwise we have nothing to discuss."

Regrad terminated the transmission. He sagged.

It was always draining, but with every exchange he felt a new degree of hardening. Simon was a master of manipulation, to the point that the only way to beat him at his own game was not to play it. It might mean he was signing his own men's death warrents, but the hollow accusations of scheming, corruption, and incompetence rolled off his back. The basest of provocations, they had nothing to do with the negotiations and only meant Simon had nothing else to say.

Rising from his shrine, the Prime Minister reaffixed his armour and symbols of office that lay near the door. In a short while he'd get an update, the planet would stumble towards recovery, Xen Oso's comrades would receive a mock trial, Xen himself would be lambasted for receiving anything less than the ridiculous punishments in store for his troops, the Coalition would face a round of mockery from galactic puppets of the Empire...

And as Regrad finished rearming himself for war, he realized that he didn't give a damn. He emerged back on to the combat bridge of The Coalition and Glee Anselm faded from his mind.

The hologram flickered off and Kaine breathed out loudly. Zell is right. He didn't hear a word I said.

It doesn't matter.



"Sir?"

"What is it?" Kaine responded sharply.

"We are receiving word of more volunteers from Ukio. Apparently, they are using the move as a political bid for membership into the League."

Kaine thought a moment. "Then the League of Nations will need to extend an invitation for Mr. Hilter to come and speak his case in the Rotunda."

"And Glee Anselm?"

Kaine paused. "Remove all traces of the Coalition base. Fill in the tunnels and allow Gravlex Med and the Anx and any other volunteers come to restore the world."

"Some Anselmi representatives have petitioned to have the Coalition soldiers moved into their custody."

Kaine smirked, "Then they'll undergo an 'accident'."

The other person shrugged, "Would we care?"

Kaine shrugged, "Normally no. The GC were caught with their zipper down, as Zell would say. But their value is much more than mere fodder for revenge seekers. Their deaths would not bring Glee Anselm back to life."

"But they will bring the Coalition to their knees?"

"Everything is in play. The final act is nearing." Kaine began to walk towards the exit. "All we need is the provocation."


"Supreme Commander!"

"Captain?"

"Sir, the Jedi."

An irritated brow frowned, "What about them?"

"They...disbanded. The holonet news from Naboo is spreading it." the Captain intoned handing Kaine a datadisc.

"Probably enjoying the ratings in the meantime," Kaine murmured inserting the disc into a nearby monitor slot.

The news piece was not as detailed as Kaine would have liked but there were shots of the Temple Doors being blown apart and then being fixed by the Jedi Masters.

"Internal squabbling....general scattering.." the anchor was saying... embellishing as much as he could.

Still, the images did not lie.

"Get me Corpsman Rendar!" Simon ordered. "We have to move quickly!"


It's already unravelling.


And as galactic events were ever moving as the cosmic spinsters weave, the work to Glee Anselm continued. It would be decades before the world healed to the point before the terrorist attack.


But the League of Nations, with recognition from two of the galaxy's most powerful empires, had come to life.

Glee Anselm had been reclaimed.

((OOC: I literally just finished this post when you posted yours up so... this is half-an-hour of my life I'm not throwing out. :P))

“What do I need? You tell me where these things are.” Vinni started, his face actually dead serious as he looked at the crude paper map. Had these guys no damn sense to set themselves up proper? “Mark all the hospitals that’ll be coming up and preferably in the order they’ll come up. That way we can move on them when they surface to get these things going as fast as possible.”

“I don’t mean to sound callous, but wildlife can be reseeded. The first priority will be shutting down those facilities and getting the civies in. We’ll be putting up an isolation field around our position here so we can clean this area and more easily set up field hospitals.” Vinni said, putting his finger in a circle of the area around the island chain they’d set themselves up on. “The field gapers are already getting set in place in these positions. We’ve got a couple more ready if you think there’s anywhere they need to be set up. It’s your op. These people may need treatment fast so the critical care patients that can’t wait to get in orbit will need it down here. And since we don’t have exact numbers of survivors it’s better to set up a safety buffer if we get swarmed faster than we can ship ‘em up…”

“We’ll take the chance once the field is up to start trying to clean some of this sludge. Try and figure out what it is and how to take care of it. While I have my bios work on that…” Vinni motioned to one of the guys near him, one of the to come over. “Ed, you gather up the techies and send ‘em to the cities. Emergency shut down procedures of danger facilities. Close the gas and tap the zap.”

“I’ll get the Al’a’thos and his crew on it.” The man said as he tapped a couple of the buttons on a comm. unit on his wrist and walked off, beginning to brief on a mission.

“They’ll meet up with your crews already in the cities and work on shutting down the dangerous facilities proper.” Vinni pointed out to the Imperial. “Now, me and mine will accompany any shuttles or craft you send out to make sure we keep a clean dock and get the people out safe and sound.”

“Anything you’d like to add? Or anything you’d prefer Colonel?”

-----------------------------

Al’a’thos was an engineer in the before times. He was a college professor at one of the technical schools. But now, with the school long since left to ruin with much of Gravlex Med, he found new meaning. He was the head of the technical crew of the operation. He watched as one of the massive floating gates were erected. The water made the trouble of having to attach the hover platforms for it instead of just setting it up on the ground but still.

The ‘Gappers’ as the reclaimists called them were designed to create safe gates in the isolation shields. For an operation like this, they brought the big ones. Large enough to fight a large barge through, it’d take some time to set some of them up. At least half-an-hour. They’re designed more or less like the entrance to a submarine. Keeping the unclean environment relatively separated from the clean on the other side.

The only thing that particularly kept them was the fact that they had to set it up half-underwater for submersible operations. Examining what they saw the LoN crew had, they should have more than enough give either way.

Suddenly, the comm. unit began to beep. With a push of a button, he heard the voice of Edward Thun, one of the higher ups. “Al, you need to spare some techies. The cities are still hot and if we don’t start shutting things down there, who knows what the frell else will hit the fans.”

“I can spare you fifteen of my engineers for now. Do they have any of their own working towards this end Edward?” Al’a’thos queried the man.

“Some. But fifteen should do for co-ordination. When can you spare some more?”

“I’ll have most of crew available in half-an-hour when we have the modular shield gapping devices set up. Until then Edward I hope that our numbers can make due for their needs….”

------------------------------

“We’ve got fifteen of ‘em boss.” Ed said as he rejoined the group at the table.

“There ya are then. Just tell us where your boys are and they’ll help out where needed.” Vinni said with a smile.

The efficiency of his crew was always impressive, even to himself during these emergency response situations. They couldn’t run like this for anymore than a couple of days before they slowed down. But the Anx proved incredibly energetic in these situations. They took pride in what work they did. No much of it left, but damn what they had could hold up.

And so they went on the long road to setting Glee Anselm aright.

THE END! AGAIN!