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17 June 2006 @ 10:37 am
[EVENT #1] CHOLERA OUTBREAK  
It has been two weeks since the exodus of the Twelve Colonies. The prisoners are one day away from finishing their goal: tomorrow, water will happily be distributed to the fleet and the shortage will be over...

Suddenly, a serious epidemic has hit the Gideon -- one of the fleet's heavy hauler transport vessels.



A group of dissenters are [withholding water] from the rest of the passengers by sealing themselves inside the vessel's water tank cabin. They are dehydrating the ship on purpose, believing that quick death in there is better than life out here. Not everyone on Gideon agrees, but nothing will change the group's mind.

The dissenters, calling themselves The Wringers, have contracted [cholera] inside the cabin and may infect the rest of Gideon if not helped. Though their plan has backfired on them, The Wringers nonetheless refuse to vacate.

The Wringers are highly-skilled craftsmen critical to running the Gideon: they cannot be allowed to die. The press is demanding medical attention for these doomed souls. The Marines must be sent in to quarantine the ill and bring them vaccination. Those most sick will need to be transported back to Galactica's medical lab. Risking exposure, Galactica cannot afford to lose any more sick officers. This is causing paranoia, especially amongst pilots who share beverages.

Meanwhile, amongst the ill, a mysterious woman is identified as Ellen Tigh -- wife of Executive Officer Colonel Tigh. When she awoke from her coma aboard the Gideon, Ellen had no idea where she was. Neither was anyone willing to believe her relation to the much-disliked XO of the much-disliked Galactica. They have treated her as another miserable stowaway.

And now she's stuck on a diseased ship. Will the cholera kill Ellen...or will her own frustration?




There are many events... And you have a plan.



Note: The Gideon is the same ship where Marines shoot and kill a few civilians during a riot. Reporter D'Anna Biers will later refer to this event as the "Gideon Massacre". Most people aboard the ship do not approve of Roslin as president.

Events are explained in detail [here].


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presidentroslin on June 18th, 2006 07:02 am (UTC)
It seemed Colonial One was the next on the list of calls to be made for the Petty Officer. Of course, Colonial One's frequencies are completely jammed for the moment, the President having a million and one calls flowing in over the comm units and the Colonial Heavy just wasn't build to sustain so much comm chatter. So it was definitely taking Dualla a bit of time to get through to the President's ship.

Meanwhile, on Colonial one, Laura Roslin's office was a mine field. Billy in one corner, trying to field as many calls as he could. Wallace Gray stood at the door, physically doing his best to keep people from breaking down and into the office to have their demands and questions answered. She would have to ask Lee for possibly some sort of guard, or what he recommended on that the next time he was aboard. Poor Wally wasn't really cutting it, body guard-wise.

Roslin herself sat behind her desk, on the phone with one ship already, trying to assure them the Cholera outbreak was being isolated just to the Gideon. She hung up. Picked up another call, did it again. Just a rote responce by this point in time. She hated responces like that, they weren't real. Weren't honest. Meanwhile, infront of here, there sat a print out on the nigh-unto-ancient disease. Something she'd barely even heard about in her life. Cholera -- things like that did not -happen- on Caprica, on the Colonies. It was archaic. But it was happening to them now, and she needed to know what they were up against.

Finally, Dualla made a connection. Roslin is the one taking this call, by sheer chance. She begun in, "I realize your concerns, and I am doing all I can at the moment, but I assure you the Gi-... " She paused, realizing who the other voice was. Her eyes went a bit wide, "Petty Officer Dualla. Put... put the Commander on the phone now, please, if he has a moment." Roslin caught herself, softening the latter half of that statement, and then waiting.

Once the call was transferred, she started immediately, "Commander Adama, we need to talk. Now. And my phone lines are so constant that I'm not sure if this call will remain clear. I think we need to meet. Your place or mine. Within the next 30 minutes."