AN: Here it is my loyalist followers and cultists, Drunk Leroy actually pulled it off once again, how? Don't question it, it's here now and once this has been posted this will be the official 200K reader chapter!
A new record for me, and I would like to thank you all for that feat. I'll have to do a Q&A Special and some other goodies for reaching my next set of arbitrary targets.
This time since I'm shit at organising stuff like this beforehand, I'll have to settle for giving my followers a discount at my store so use code: 75THRBSG for 15% off at the checkout on my store.
You can reach it by going to 75thrbsg dot com on most search bars or engines.
More shirt designs and crests will be available in the coming months, I can if there is a demand for it, make hoodies and other shirt designs and other knick knacks available as well.
Alright enough shilling, please enjoy the rewrite of chapter 14.
Disclaimer: I do not speak for Drunk Leroy.
December 3rd 2207 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2151 CE [Common Era].
Turian Frontier Space, Agamemnon System.
SSV Lion R-106, OIC's Quarters.
[Play: Central Band of the Royal British Legion: Forever: I Vow To Thee (Instrumental).]
Sat behind his personal desk in his quarters, Liam busied himself with preparations to bury several hundred crewmen who'd died during the conflict, it had been a truly bitter pill to swallow.
Many of the crew were like extended family to himself and others aboard, often becoming the best man for many who'd married aboard the ship, not surprising considering the fact the Lion's Crown Pub and Chapel were two of the best venues in whatever system the Lion was present in during the celebrations; not to mention the cheapest for serving members of the Systems Alliance Armed Forces.
The crew took pride in that little fact.
Many of the caskets assembled for the funeral would be empty, the bodies of those killed lost to the munitions detonations when several turrets were blown off of the hull.
Liam had written the eulogy for the honoured dead, organising for the ships' chaplain's and other religious leaders to speak for the burial ceremony.
Luckily Galavan and the interim governor of Agamemnon had given their blessing to bury the crew in space, by having their coffins launched towards the system's primary, as was tradition.
Galavan and several officers and officials would attend the funeral proper, they too would honour the dead and the living by giving two speeches in the Portside hangerbay, where the coffins would be launched from the launch viper tubes.
It'd take a couple of weeks for the Coffins to travel from their launch point towards the system primary, so a no fly zone would be established preventing any civilian traffic from being struck by one hundred plus caskets.
Unfortunately a good chunk of the crew wouldn't be able to attend the ceremony, as extensive external work needed to be completed before the Lion would be able to make the return trip home.
Before then however the Lion would need to get access to Palavan's orbit to place one of the remaining QEC satellites in orbit for realtime negotiations to take place between consummate professional negotiators, Liam, the crew and the Lion herself had been sent to get a foot in the door.
As far as anyone was concerned it was successful, but it wasn't without sacrifice, A sacrifice paid in blood, sweat,toil and tears.
Liam got up and made way to his personal wardrobe, making himself presentable for the coming service.
"Although the battle has passed, we must never forget those that had made the ultimate sacrifice; to borrow a quote from the late Winston Churchill, Never in the history of human conflict has so much been owed by so many, to so few…." Liam practised as he placed the finishing touches on his uniform.
December 3rd 2207 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2151 CE [Common Era].
Turian Frontier Space, Agamemnon System.
SSV Lion R-106, The Crown Pub.
[Play: The Fisherman's Friends: One And All: Nelson's Blood.]
The funeral had gone well, everyone paid their respects, the service had been broadcast throughout the entire ship for those unable to attend in person.
Liam had thankfully got through the speech without cracking throughout, shedding a single tear as he turned about face to salute the caskets as they were prepared to launch through the tubes.
With the service finished the crew and VIP's in attendance were invited to the ships on board pub for a buffet, several crew human, Montressian and Turian were serving platters of small bites to eat as well as dextro and levo alcohol.
Liam had Ka'mara explain to her father about the tradition of a pub aboard naval ships in the Systems Alliance, and the purpose they served aboard, Liam approached a large bell which hung from the bar; ringing it once, he caught the attention of the crowd, raising his glass Liam addressed everyone. "Ladies, Gentlemen, a toast…. Here's to the glorious dead!"
"And the next man to die!" The human crew and the Invictus crew replied,
"Now there's a tradition aboard the ship, to think of home, to our loved ones in our time of mourning and home to me is a dreary little island called Britain, a nation of seafarers. I think the dead wouldn't want us to mourn their loss, but celebrate their lives." Liam Continued his address.
"So down your rum lad's and lasses. We sing!" Liam finished as he began to bang his hand on the oak wood surface of the bar.
He started the song off.
"Well a drop of Nelson's blood wouldn't do us any harm.
And a drop of Nelson's blood wouldn't do us any harm.
And a drop of Nelson's blood wouldn't do us any harm.
And We'll all hang on behind."
The human crew quickly downing their alcohol soon joined the captain.
"We're gonna roll the old chariot along.
Yes we'll roll the old chariot along.
Come on and roll the old chariot along.
And we'll all hang on behind."
Liam Started the verse once more, finishing the first line before the crew jumped in with their captain.
"And a damn good flogging wouldn't do us any harm.
And a damn good flogging wouldn't do us any harm.
And a damn good flogging wouldn't do us any harm.
And we'll all hang on behind."
When the chorus began, several members of the former Invictus crew joined in, even with the tell tale flange the song was sounding rather distinct and quite enjoyable in all fairness.
"We're gonna roll the old chariot along.
Yes we'll roll the old chariot along.
Come on and roll the old chariot along.
And we'll all hang on behind."
Liam once again started the verse.
"And a nice fat cook wouldn't do us any harm.
And a nice fat cook wouldn't do us any harm.
And a nice fat cook wouldn't do us any harm.
And we'll all hang on behind."
Galavan took to inspiring his own staff and took to singing the chorus as well.
"We're gonna roll the old chariot along.
Yes we'll roll the old chariot along.
Come on and roll the old chariot along.
And we'll all hang on behind."
Followed by Liam starting the verse once again.
"And a night with the girls wouldn't do us any harm.
And a night with the girls wouldn't do us any harm.
And a night with the girls wouldn't do us any harm.
And we'll all hang on behind.
Unbeknownst to those attending Ka'mara had told the Turian servers to broadcast anything interesting over the net, and they thought the Captain giving a speech was something of interest.
"A roll in the clover wouldn't do us any harm."
The human crew cheered at the line.
"And a roll in the clover wouldn't do us any harm.
And a roll in the clover wouldn't do us any harm.
And we'll all hang on behind."
Followed by the entire crew singing the chorus.
"We're gonna roll the old chariot along.
Yes we'll roll the old chariot along.
Come on and roll the old chariot along.
And we'll all hang on behind."
Liam started the final verse as usual.
"Well a drop of Nelson's blood wouldn't do us any harm.
And a drop of Nelson's blood wouldn't do us any harm.
And a drop of Nelson's blood wouldn't do us any harm.
And We'll all hang on behind."
And the crew finished off with a final chorus.
"We're gonna roll the old chariot along.
Yes we'll roll the old chariot along.
Come on and roll the old chariot along.
And we'll all hang on behind."
Many hours would be spent talking, singing and telling tall tales of fallen comrades before the crew had to disband for the day to get ready for the following day's duties.
December 5th 2151 CE [Common Era] 2207 EMC [Earth Military Calendar].
Turian Frontier Space, Agamemnon System.
Turian Sixth Fleet, HNV Spirit of Palaven.
Command and Control Centre.
[Play: Volbeat: Beyond Hell/Above Heaven: A New Day.]
Gavilan Nyx strode throughout the main corridor leading towards the Spirit of Palaven's bridge, his duty uniform was freshly pressed, a cup of Palaven blend Caff in his dominant right hand with a data pad in his left.
Reports had been coming through the regular channels rather than the emergency ones for the first time in the last four days, some pirates decided to blow up the local broadcasting masts causing massive collateral damage as the masts fell some forty stories to ground level.
Luckily the incidents killed no one, however many had been hit with shrapnel and bits of debris when they had impacted with the ground.
Unfortunately none of the city's civilian construction vehicles had survived the massive EMP that the SSV Lion's nukes had caused wiping out the first invasion armada, in fact the entirety of transport network had been disabled, Captain Spruce had formally apologised to the citizens of Agamemnon for that particular side effect.
Now five days since the Hegemony ran with their tails tucked firmly between their legs, the colony was finally on the mend, a lot of infrastructure had been destroyed as had a lot of families unfortunately.
The Lion's marine corps was on the frontline, alongside Turian civilian, civil and military forces, each man and woman working side by side together to get the colony solidly back on its own feet, with that said despite the size difference between them humans proved to have far more endurance.
It also seemed that humans were an adaptable sort, with little need for heavy armour support the human tanks had disappeared for a day or two, only to return with their turrets missing replaced by a crew module, a huge hydraulic excavator arm, a massive bundle of pipes called a 'fascine' a plough dozer blade mounted to the front of hull.
It was a sight to see a vehicle which had killed dozens upon dozens of pirates and slavers days earlier be used to clear roads for emergency services to better traverse the city, or rip down what remained of collapsed war torn buildings.
Two had been responsible for quickly erecting a field hospital in one of the city's parks, built from baskets filled with course rubble, as he had later found out that day the Lion's Marines were more than just Marines, they were engineers, mechanics, signalmen, logistics, tradesmen, teachers, cooks and so much more.
They had fought and won a war on the request of a crew not their own, but they had stepped to the plate nevertheless, it was impressive to say the least. It showed character.
Stepping into the CIC / Bridge, he was met with the organised chaos that was shift changeover, lifting his cup as a salute to his XO Adrianus who was busy himself with a multitude of reports. A female officer addressed him just as he was about to climb the stairs to his post.
One Yeoman Laia Aetnian. "Admiral you have two unread messages, the first is from the Admiralty, the second is from the Primarch himself. Sir." Gavilan gave the Turian equivalent of a stunned expression. "Thank you, Yeoman, have we had any issues today?"
"No sir, I have nothing additional to report." Nodding his head Gavilan made his way to his post placing his pad down to access his off hand omni-tool, accessing his emails he found the two messages the good Yeoman had reported about.
It was at that very moment just when the good Admiral had taken a sip of his Caff that his brain had caught up with what he was reading causing him to cough and spit his Caff all over his post.
To: Admiral Gavilan Nyx.
From: Primarch Tullius Romullianus.
Word has spread far within the Hierarchy of your exploits Admiral; it seems prudent to get to the point at least the Salarians intercept this message.
Congratulations on your PROMOTION to Fleet Admiral, with all the duties and privileges that the rank provides, expect me to PIN those rank bars onto your collar personally.
Also send word to those who have put their lives down for our people. I would like to meet those who have put their lives on the line to not only save Agamemnon but bring our wayward sons and daughters of Palaven home.
Signed: Primarch Tullius Romullianus.
The next message was even shorter and simpler, cutting straight to the bone of the matter.
To: Admiral Gavilan Nyx.
From: Fleet Admiral Avidia Fimmus.
The 209th Battlegroup is en-route with HVI Primarch Tullius Romullianus, they will arrive in twelve hours.
Enjoy your promotion.
Also your wife says that you have been withholding information from her, expect to be sleeping on the couch until further notice on your next joint leave.
Signed: Fleet Admiral Avidia Fimmus.
Not many things in the Galaxy can phase a veteran of the Hierarchies finest fleets, least of all the commanding officer, not unless the man's wife was involved and she was irate, many on the Bridge muttered a silent prayer for their Admiral.
Would it help? Spirits blessed yes, but in all likelihood they would all be surrounding a funeral pyre, singing songs of triumph.
"Yeoman, write me a formal message, address it to my daughter, mark it priority one, tell her to expect the Primarch in twelve plus hours. Understood?" Yeoman Laia, as attentive as ever, was writing the message on her omni-tool as soon as the words left his mouth.
"Understood sir, it's sent." Laia replied.
"Thank you." Gavilan looking towards his XO Adrianus he addressed the gruff officer. "Adrianus you have the Conn."
"I have the Conn, Aye."
December 5th 2207 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2151 CE [Common Era].
Turian Frontier Space, Agamemnon System.
Executive Officer Quarters.
[Play: Gorillaz: The Now Now: Tranz.]
Ka'mara sat behind her personal desk, writing both a digital and paper report for the last week as well as writing up a stack of letters of condolence for the families who had lost their loved ones in an action, she had requested to be undertaken by the SSV Lion and her crew it wasn't new to her she had written multiple letters during her journey home to the loved ones who had lost family aboard the HNV Invictus.
It was always a sobering experience, but she had put forth her heart and had managed to get the Hierarchy to send her letters of thanks on behalf of the Hierarchy proper for those who had died during the Siege of Agamemnon, each one had an attachment a digital commendation for bravery the highest that the Hierarchy could present to heroes who weren't apart of the Hierarchy proper.
The Foreign Legions Cross for Bravery and Valour in combat, attached to it was a certification proving that the cross was legitimate alongside that was a document for the families of those that put everything down on the line for the Hierarchy where the next of kin could claim a widows payment which was the equivalent to one years pay, at the rank of the spouse killed in action.
Placing the pen down onto the hardwood surface of her desk, Ka'mara leant back a small portion to stretch out her bare arms, human made desks were just a fraction too low to be comfortable not enough to be painful mind you, at least the black leather recliner chair made up for what discomfort she suffered.
Suddenly a priority one message popped up addressed to her by the HNV Pride of Palaven's Yeoman, her father's secretary, opening the message up Ka'mara's eyes bugged out just a little almost reclining too far back in the process, Ka'mara picking up a corded phone from its base fixed to her desks worktop, she opened a line to Lieutenant Smollet.
"This is Comms." Smollet's smooth voice came through the line.
"Lieutenant Smollet can you patch me through to Liam's post, I've got a Priority one message for him." Ka'mara requested, a scant few seconds passed, before the line was transferred. "Ka'mara, Smollet tells me you've got a priority one message for me." Liam's thick accented voice came through the line.
"I do sir, can you please come to my quarters." Ka'mara asked her superior, suddenly his voice blasted through the handset's speaker even though his voice was clearly directed away from his microphone. "CAG, you have the conn…." Before his voice was once more directed towards her over the wireless. "I'm en-route." Liam finished.
"Thank you." Ka'mara replied, placing the phone back onto its base, before getting up to re-organise her entire room, there was no doubt the Primarch would be performing an inspection of all of Turian occupied accommodations upon his arrival as was the tradition.
Three sharp knocks told her that Liam was outside seeking permission to enter. "Come-in." She shouted out, Liam turning the locking mechanism to the open position, before pushing the door clear of the bulkhead frame.
The door groaned as it was opened and once again closed. "What's so important that you couldn't tell me over the ph-one…." Ka'mara looked over her shoulder to find her Commanding Officer staring at her ass.
"Like something you see, Captain." Ka'mara asked rather daringly.
"Well yes, it's a good looking ass on a good looking Turian, but I'm thinking you didn't call me here to stare at your ass." Liam quipped back still fully staring at her underwear clad ass as she remade her cot.
"No, I didn't, I've just received a message from my father's yeoman that the Primarch is due to arrive in the system in twelve hours and as is tradition he'll be inspecting the sixth Fleet." She watched as her friend and superior put on a thoughtful look on his face.
"I can assume that he or she will want to make the rounds aboard the Lion, alright when I get back to CIC, I'll put out a general announcement for the crew to break out the cleaning supplies, red carpet and the fine china." Liam replied, turning to leave but once he'd reached her quarters door just before opening it, the good captain spoke up once more. "I'll see you in The Crown off shift."
Ka'mara smiled, as she replied back. "I'll be there."
The door was unlocked, opened, shut and locked once more leaving Ka'mara to the whirlwind of thoughts that were in her head.
December 5th 2151 CE [Common Era] 2207 EMC [Earth Military Calendar].
Turian Frontier Space, En Route to Agamemnon System.
Turian two-hundred and ninth Battlegroup, HNV Titan.
Command and Control Centre.
[Play: Caravan Palace: Miracle: Miracle.]
Commodore Ardella Nyx, loving wife and mother stood tapping her finger upon her posts railing, her husband had after all been with their daughter for an entire week, with not one correspondence sent to her, her daughter was home, finally after a year of semi-sleepless nights wondering about her wayward daughter she could once again rest easy.
Her dear husband on the other hand would be punished suitably for his lack of foresight, leaving her to receive the news by the Admiralty, however much it peeved her she did receive an honour few would complain about.
Her ship the HNV Titan was flying the Primarch's flag, which came with its benefits of being able to 'jump the queue' on congested Relays and not be bothered with routine inspections by fellow Turian naval units patrolling Hierarchy space, though that particular practice seemed to occur with far less frequency than anyone in the navy liked.
Far too many units had been slated by the Citadel Council, councillor Tevos's name was spoken with a liberal amount of contempt these days, the blue parasite being an absolute pompous bitch didn't help with that particular image either.
Although no one would ever say the words aloud for fear of giving the image of sedition, Palvini Primus had more than a point by stating that the Hierarchy paid too much in blood for too little in compensation from the other two big council races.
Current rationing levels are at the highest levels ever recorded, due to the lack of available farming sources.
Not to mention the Councils newly proposed amendments to the councils existing fleet compositions which if things were to go forward as they were, it would strain the Hierarchy's naval elements to the point of breaking.
The Hierarchy and her people were tough; they weren't invincible.
These humans however that had fought to save Agamemnon and its citizens may just be enough of a crutch to prevent the legs of the Hierarchy from giving out, she could only hope.
"Credit for your thoughts Commodore." The flanged voice of the Hierarchy's Primarch asked as he stepped beside her.
"I just hope that these Humans are as half as good as the reports say they are, we could use a steadfast military minded ally like them." Ardella replied honestly.
"There is only one way to find out and that is through the experiences of the crew of the HNV Invictus, so with all due haste let's welcome home our lost sons and daughters." Primarch Tullius said as he patted her on the shoulder.
"Aye sir." Ardella straightened up a small fraction before, looking towards the second to final Relay pair which would take the Battlegroup to the Valkyr System. "Navigation, upload our transit data to the Relay, communications send a message: prepare for mass relay transit on my mark."
'Let's see just what kind of people Humans really are.' Ardella thought to herself as her Battlegroup made the best possible cruising speed towards the secondary relay.
To Be Continued….
AN: Alright I'm getting set up for the fifteenth rewrite of BDD, I'm doing my final marked assessments to complete my first year of Uni. So I'll be busy before I can focus down more chapters so if it takes a little longer for it to complete I apologise in advance.
So I'll see you lot on the bounce, until then, GRLS Signing off.