LeberMac awoke to a pounding headache. This wasn't really unusual for him, but this particular headache seemed rather insistent, and wouldn't go away after the customary heavy dose of painkillers and the oath to never drink again. His senses still fuzzy, he padded to the bathroom to make himself as presentable as possible. He fumbled with the toothpaste, accidentally gargled with the peroxide, and cut himself shaving. Twice. The pounding faded away and he stared into his bloodshot eyes in the mirror.

How the hell had he ended up back here? Essentially he was right back where he had started almost 6 months ago. It had begun with the whole Mogul Velaio thing, where he had badly mismanaged the Itani Nation's military resources, and failed to prevent Mogul from killing himself along with two high-value Constellation-class freighters in a desperate attempt to close the Sedina-Latos wormhole. After that, he'd been busted down to Private in the [ITAN] guild, and then had been expelled by the commander.

After that had come a stint in TGFT, where he attempted to make his life as a trader. That... hadn't worked out so well. In fact, he'd been fired, and been used as a plant in the CLM guild which he predictably joined to take out his revenge upon TGFT. After the "Ovaltine" incident and the hounding by Obsidian as well as CLM opportunists, he'd holed up in Pelatus Bunker and lived like a fugitive for a couple of weeks before he'd.. well, died.

Everything else after that was a kind of blur and mishmash of images, until he awoke in Geira watch, fought Lexicon to the death, and ended up back in [ITAN] again, right before elections. For some reason he was elected to his old Lieutenant position, that was still a head-scratcher for him. As if looking for answers, he stared into the mirror deeply, looking for some kind of change in his personality, his demeanor, his behavior. He focused, but noticed something else entirely. Writing. On his forehead.

"Oh, great." he thought to himself as he examined himself in the mirror. He blinked. Someone had written something on his forehead with permanent marker. It was difficult to make out the text in the mirror image, but after an hour or so he was able to focus and make out the letters: "If found, please return to Deneb O-3, Ellias Stand, Deck 6, [ITAN] Lieutenant's quarters. -- Bronab."

"Well, at least Bronab's looking out or me." LeberMac thought. He showered, scrubbed his forehead to no avail, dressed into his rumpled [ITAN] uniform and sat down heavily in the kitchen for his breakfast.

"Eggs, over easy. Toast, Juice and a Blueberry Muffin." He spoke to the room's auto-chef.

The auto-chef beeped, it's drive mechanisms whirred, its neural net strained, and then it came to a realization. "Ha. Ha. Master. LeberMac." it said in a halting mechanical voice, "Very. Funny... Here. Is. Your. Breakfast." Something dinged in the auto-chef, and it produced a double shot of tequila, sliding it across the breakfast bar to him.

The pounding started in his head again, and he quickly drained the shot. With the alcohol, his senses cleared a bit, and he realized that the pounding wasn't coming from his head, but from his door.

Stomping over to the door, he yelled "Hold yer damn horses, whoever ya are!", and opened the door with a rush. It was Finster.

Finster took a look at Leebs and stepped back. "Oh, you ARE here." He said. Ready for Border Patrol?

LeberMac frowned and gruffly pointed to the hastily-made sign that he kept on his doorknob. Made of yarn, marker, and a carefully-peeled off tequila bottle label, It read "Busy. Piss off."

"Erm, right." Finster said. "But, Iry said to make sure you got up for duty this morning."

LeberMac mumbled under his breath and grabbed his ID as he walked out of the unkempt office. Finster closed the door behind him, careful not to disturb Leber's handcrafted sign.

"So, do you think there'll be any live Serco in C-10 today?" Finster said cheerily, attempting to initiate a pleasant conversation.

Not about to be drawn into anything pleasant, LeberMac ignored Finster until he reached the docking bay. He hopped into his IBG and the overly-cheery deckhand popped up to seal his cockpit. "Good Morning and Good Hunting sir!" he said with a smile.

LeberMac looked at him with one eye, held out his hand, extended his middle finger, and boosted out of the dock without clearance, scattering some plasteel crates on the floor.

"He's having a rough morning..." Finster said to the deckhand in a halfhearted apology, and boosted out to catch up.

lol at giving that deckhand the finger

LeberMac was in a staring contest. Hunched over the worn chair at his official Lieutenant's desk, he was locked in a battle of wills with his opponent, opposite him across the desktop. He willed his adversary to blink, to fall over, to twitch, anything. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, and his eye muscles began to jump. He squinted and tried to pretend that his adversary was gone, setting his jaw and willing his enemy to flinch. Intent on his task, he focused all his energy on staring his target down.

A loud double-knock at his door broke his concentration, he jumped, blinked, and swore loudly, "FRAK! Frak frak frak frak frak! Who the FRAK just signed their own death warrant?" The tall stack of enemy paperwork, as if relieved from winning the staring contest, fell over and scattered the uncompleted personnel reports, timesheets, and requisitions across the office floor.

LeberMac bounded to his office door and whipped it open with the insane fury of someone who just lost a staring contest to an inanimate object. "Whaaat?!?"

Genotype, in a freshly-pressed flightsuit, looked at LeberMac as if he was staring at a rabid tribble. "Dude. You look like crap."

"Where the FRAK have you been?" LeberMac spat out, and then proudly pointed to his sign that always hung on the outside of his door, the one that read "Busy. Piss Off." The yarn was fraying, though. And the backwards tequila label with the writing was starting to droop.

"Yeah, saw that. Amateurish. You can do better. Anyway... Vacation."

"What?" LeberMac asked, annoyed that Geno had insulted his well-crafted sign, and now behind in the conversation.

"Vacation. You asked where the frak I was. Took a month off. What, didn't you get the paperwork? I'm quite positive I sent out a guildwide memo." Genotype said as he leaned over to get a look inside the office. "Oh." He walked into the pigsty and picked up one of the puce sheets that now littered LeberMac's floor. "Here it is. See? Dated 4 weeks ago. You should really clean this place up."

"Right." LeberMac swiped the paper from Genotype's hands and crumpled it up. "What, so you're back? Just in time, too, we had some... issues regarding absentee positions."

Genotype pulled up last week's CtC results on his datapad. "I see we lost CtC. Hm."

"Yeah, well, the fracking serco showed an interest for once, and I meant to oppose them for most of last week, but... well, you know how life is..." LeberMac said as he discreetly kicked an empty tequila bottle under the desk. It clanked loudly as it came into contact with the 11 others that laid there, the remnants of his 'important work' last week.

Genotype pretended not to notice and made his departure. "Well, time to knock off some of this rust. I'll take first BP run tonight. But I may be on-duty in Cantus for a while, away from the front." Genotype paused, and tentatively added, "You can handle things here, right?"

"Hunh? Oh, yeah, sure. Under control. Hasn't been a real Serco threat in Deneb for months." LeberMac said, beginning to pick up the paperwork and put it into a neat pile again.

"Alright, good hunting." Genotype backed out, closed the door, gave the poor sign a woeful look as it hung limply in the doorknob, and proceeded to the flight deck.

LeberMac watched the door close. When it shut, he rustled in his desk drawer, produced another bottle of tequila, and drank heartily from it. "Ha. Serco threat." He muttered to noone in particular, however... the new Serco guild headed up by that Burwell was going to be a pain. What was it called again? Serco Decoy Noobs? Shady Dealings Network? He sorted through the pile of paperwork... Oh, here it was... "Serco Defense Net".

The paperwork dealt a lot with that new guild, the recent presence of [Syn] opportunists in Deneb, the influx of new ITAN members, and other myriad bullshit that made his head hurt more than usual. His hatred for the paperwork got the best of him, and with a drunken flourish, he opened the disposal chute and dumped the entire load of official documents into the disintegrator. The yellow flash of light signified the destruction of hundreds of official forms, reminders, bills, and notices. "There!" he cheered triumphantly, avenged for his loss at the staring contest, and - now his office was cleaner as well. Perfect.

He took a long draw from the bottle and chuckled over the new guild. Heh. "Defense", like the little frackers weren't the ones making daily incursions into ITANI space. How the hell could they justify THAT name... they must have some good political spin doctors...

Speaking of spin doctors, wasn't he supposed to talk to someone about the media relations? Hrm. He took another long gulp from the bottle of tequila, finished it, and was on his way to grab another when the secureline rang. Uhoh.

He answered it, and was shocked to see the identity of his caller...

Sally Koshuni glared icily into the securenet camera. She was NOT happy. "Oh Hell." LeberMac thought.

"Lieutenant, apparently you're a hard man to get ahold of." she snipped.

"Only for the right people." he said. "Whaddya want?"

"You're kidding, right? Did you not get the pre-advance notice of live interview, the advance notice, the formal notice, and the program reminders the day of the interview?"

LeberMac looked over his shoulder at the still-sizzling paperwork disposal chute, blinked resignedly, then turned back around to face the vidscreen. "'parently not." He said, hiding the tequila bottle behind him.

"You realize that this studio broadcast, the broadcast you were ORDERED to attend by Itani high command, was a disaster, right? Because the main GUEST was NOT THERE! I had to entertain the crowd with a hand puppet show and an interview of the Mogul Velaio self-aware program, which crashed after every other question."

LeberMac shuddered and thought back to yesterday's hazy events, and recalled that the annoying buzzing that came from his ITAN comm unit had really thrown his darts game off, so he'd silenced it. He'd won at darts though, which had made him happy.

Scratching his head, he winced and asked, "So, when's the show?"

"Yesterday." Sally said curtly, folding her arms.

"Oh." LeberMac wobbled a bit, drunkenly. "So, what can I do now?"

Ms. Koshuni growled back, "Nothing. I'm reporting you to the Itani High council for failing to attend the show. I'm sure they'll think up something appropriate."

"Now, whoa there - isn't there some way I can make this up to you? I'll give you an exclusive - whatever you want." LeberMac pleaded drunkenly.

At the words "exclusive", Sally Koshuni's ears perked up. "Oh? An exclusive on anything I want?"

Fearing the wrath of the itani high council and being busted down ranks again, LeberMac ground his teeth and said... "Yes."

With an evil smile borne in the depths of Tartarus, Sally Koshuni glared into the camera and stated, "Alright you drunken excuse for a pilot, I'm going to be a guest of the [ITAN] guild for one week. I am to be the embedded front-line reporter, following the troops into battle, witnessing the fighting firsthand and getting the real story."

"But, there are forms for that... we need to do the paperwork... It can't be arranged so quickly..." LeberMac pleaded and stalled, but to no avail.

She smiled and admired her nails as she said, "It's either that or you bend over for the tree-trunk-sized anal probe that the Itani high council will administer if they discover that you blew off my followup interview. Your choice, really."

He sighed. "Fine. Which unit do you want? I hear Mr. Bean's doing some excellent trading through Divinia..."

"Yours."

"...excuse me?" LeberMac said. "My unit? You'll be headed into COMBAT."

"Oh, I know," Sally remarked, "and if I suffer the slightest scratch, you'll be held responsible by both my organization and your precious Itani High Council. You may be a public relations disaster for ITAN, but you're ratings GOLD for me. The fans love it, it's like watching a train wreck. So - next week - I'm your ridealong, let's not disappoint, now, OK?"

The connection terminated, and LeberMac felt like hurling himself into the disposal chute. The pain of disintegration was looking like a better option than living through the next few weeks. The tequila soured in his gut.

oh man that was halirous

OH, so im not interesting enough for sally koshuni am I? ... umm...well...I...

:'(

/me quietly walks away with slumped shoulders and head hung down.

:'(

...

You're an ITAN trash hauler. Not even some lowly UIT dockwench would find your existance worth rubbing two brain cells together over.

But.. SDN doesn't incur into blue space. That isn't guild policy.. The guys are too new!

Hence "Defense." That a good enough spin for you?

Trust me, Bean, you don't want that bitch riding along with you. And pay no attention to Dr. Lecture, he's just angry that no one's sad he left VO.

Oh, and if SDN is in Deneb, then they are obviously "trespassing" in Itani territory, which is a definite "aggressive" posture. Or if they're attacking the Itani CtC convoy anywhere from Bractus to Divinia, that's an aggressive posture for sure.

I suggest, in the interest of accuracy, you change the name to "SAPS" Sneaky Aggressive Posture Serco. Much Better. ;)

Deneb is far more a warzone than it is Itani territory. CtC is our convoys, not just yours, which need defending. We only appear aggressive if you choose to view us that way Lieutenant.

The guild does not participate officially in either, but members are free to fight as they choose. We just teach them how.

Leber..... cut those newbies some slack. We need more targets.

Wait, Burwell, you're pushing the recognized border of Itani space back to Eo? Was it not enough that your bloodthirsty mechanical bretheren have taken Betheshee and Geira from the Itani already?

When will it be enough?

When will you stop your constant invasions into Itani territory?

Now you see why [ITAN] must draw the line in Deneb. Your incursions will be repelled. Even if I *do* have a loudmouth nosy reporter in the backseat of the Centurion with me who won't shaddup.

/me hands leber some duct-tape here that will shut her up im sure.

I prefer "SPAS", Stupid Passive Aggresive Serco; that's certainly how they act.

The promotion to Commander I've recently received is sadly not enough to give me sway over the Dominion's policy as a whole. The word from upstairs is that Deneb is territory in conflict as opposed to Itani. You act as if territory is not gained and lost in war, Lieutenant. I'd suggest you lay off the stiff drinks till that becomes clear.

On that note, if you have political connections, I'd suggest you start building a defense line in Eo, just in case. See? SDN thinks defensively.

The "defense" portion of this unit's name refers to our pilots, not our territory. The goal is to defend and unite young pilots. This does not mean we tell them to stay home from the war. Now, if you do have a half dozen members of SDN in Metana or something clearly blue controlled, give me a call and we'll talk. I'll send them over to SCAR where they belong.

We need Betheshee and Geira as a buffer zone against further terrorist attacks from the Akanese which you harbor and supply.

Clean out your closets before you go about pointing fingers, Itani dog!

- mifune toshiro kanchou, Serco Navy

Serco navy?

Row, row, row your boat...

Wait wasn't that Sigma anthem.... no damn CDC stole it when they left Sigma.
Nevermind, it could be an official tune of "Serco Navy" too. :D

We don't have an anthem, never did. Nor, for that matter, does CDC, last I checked.

Next time, do a bit of research before you make false statements. Might save you the time later on from having to retract things if/when Skygge Vakter ever decides diplomacy might be in its best interests.

--Miharu

It was unofficial one sung among CDC conspirators in your ranks, and true, you dont have it anymore. Your former members now in CDC took it with them.
But... since they are mean traders they sold it to toshiro's Serco navy it seems.

/me runs round in full circles making WEEE WOOO WEEE WOOO noises.

I'm a fire engine I am, YARRR!