---TRUE COLORS---

C.N.S. OBLIVION
HIGH ORBIT ABOVE PLANET EARTH, SOL SYSTEM
1032 HOURS, OCTOBER 8, 3034 A.D.

Mike, Commander, and the rest of the Xyber XVII representatives had made their way back to the Oblivion, with their mission fresh in their mind.

“So, Mike,” Bowser commented, “where we headed?”
“Back to HQ. We’ve got nothing else on our agenda, so we may as well just head home for the time being.”
“Acknowledged. Setting coordinates for Planet Xyber XVII…”

[ATTN: INCOMING MESSAGE FOR C.N.S. OBLIVION]

“Huh? What’s this, then?”

The holo-screen turned on, and the figure of Pozdag-3’s base commander appeared.

“Oblivion, this is General Zardikis of the Pozdag-3 Planetary Defense Commission. We have identified 4 Aradas bearing the colors of the Azdgari heading for the planet. We have attempted communications, but their crews are not responding and may have hostile intent. Requesting immediate assistance.”
“Affirmative, General. Bowser, change in plans. Set coordinates for Pozdag-3.”
“Right away, boss. Just a few seconds, and…”

[OVERRIDE ACTIVATED; NEW COORDINATES SET]

“Done. We’re heading to Pozdag-3 now.”
“Excellent. All hands, to your stations!”

This was it: the Empire would finally uncover the truth behind the recent skirmishes, and finally lay to rest the hostilities between the three strands…

C.N.S. OBLIVION
HIGH ORBIT ABOVE POZDAG-3, POZDAG SYSTEM
1033 HOURS, OCTOBER 8, 3034 A.D.

The trip to Pozdag-3 seemed to take a few hours, but in fact, only a few minutes had passed, thanks to the near-instantaneous travel The Nexus provided. As the Oblivion tunneled in, the ship immediately caught sight of the Aradas Zardikis had spoken about.

“There they are,” Mike commented. “Communications, activate the Hyper-Dimensional Amplifiers and scan one of those ships immediately to reveal their allegiances.”
“Right away, sir. Computing…”

Precious seconds ticked by as the ship performed its duties…

“Got it. Mike, here’s the readout,” the officer said, handing the piece of paper to him.
“Let’s see here…”

After reading for a few moments, Mike finally spoke.

“I knew it. Those aren’t Azdgari ships at all; they’re Free Trade ships painted and armed just like them.”
“Brigadier Chief Commander, permission to destroy them?” the gunnery officer asked.
“No. Warm up the Ion Cannons in preparation to disable the ships. Navigation, bring us about to starboard. Communications, send a message to the Zidagar fleet: ships are NOT of Azdgari origin, preparing to disable the ships.”
“Affirmative, sir.”

The Nexus Transceiver was activated, and beamed to the Zidagar stationed at Pozdag-3.

“Sir, General Zardikis has received confirmation from his own station as the ships to be non-Azdgari, and has sent message to other governments warning them of the situation. He'll let us deal with them as we deem fit, and good hunting.”
“Very well. Ion cannons, fire at will!”

The entire starboard of the Oblivion roared to life as several thousand ion cannons fired upon the Aradas, disabling them almost instantly.

“Hangar, lock on and reel them in with the tractor beams,” Commander ordered. “It's time to see for ourselves the faces of the convicted.”

The ships, while several thousand miles away, were brought into the Oblivion’s hangar within all of about 5 minutes. The Aradas were badly scored and damaged, but they were intact enough that it was clear to the Commandarians that their systems were not of Imperial origin, never mind that of Azdgari. A platoon of Shock Troopers with M-16s and Plasma Rifles stood poised around the 4 ships, ready to fire on any hostiles.

“This is the Imperial Navy! Come out slowly, and with your hands in plain sight!” the platoon leader shouted.

Several injured men exited the Aradas, some of them Guild Members, others Renegades, and even a few Voinians. But most shocking of all, however, is that there were also members from each of the 3 strands on board; both fighting with the JR/VA and also imprisoned by it. The strands fighting with the JR/VA wore the Renegade Insignia and uniforms, but those imprisoned still wore their race’s military outfit. The enormity of the situation was now beginning to hit home.

“Bowser, are you seeing this?!” Mike exclaimed.
“I’m recording every second of it,” he commented. “The only thing I hate worse than Renegades are traitors.”
“I think an emergency meeting at the IGRC is mandatory, don’t you think, Commander?”
“Agreed. If those men were willing to join the JR/VA, who knows how many more have already defected?”
“Take ‘em to the nearest holding cell, Major. And make sure they stay there until we reach Earth.”
“Affirmative, Commander. Alright men; move ‘em out!”

The platoon marched the traitors off to their cells, their fates sealed in stone.

“Despite all this, Commander, I realize that we can’t just go off on bloody purges, trying to find everyone. That’d be next to impossible.”
“Agreed; that, and it wouldn’t exactly look good on our resume. Furthermore, if we allowed ourselves to stoop that low, we’d be no better than the Bureau, and certainly Akasi. Security is going to have to be increased, however,” he said solemnly.

A few moments of what seemed like an eternity passed.

“C’mon. We gotta get back to the Council and inform them of this right away,” Mike finally admitted.

They made their way back through The Nexus to Xyber XVII, sending an emergency transmission to the whole of the Empire: “Attention, allies of the Empire; we are calling an emergency council meeting on the recent events. Attendance by all representatives is mandatory. The meeting will be in 24 hours.”

The crew of the Oblivion watched helplessly as the events began to unfold before them…

---END TRANSMISSION---

---

NOTES:

This section was written pretty hastily the first time, so fixing it was difficult. I was just trying to keep the story moving, and as a result, it came off as rather suck-ish.

Oh well. Just one more filler post, then we move on to the next arch.

Bowser is © Nintendo
The Guild of Free Traders, Azdgari, Zidagar, Igadzra, and Pozdag-3 is © Ambrosia Software
The Empire, JR/VA, and all characters w/in © Me