STGOD 4 Game Thread

[Thirdfain]

Ezekiel

"Monacoran vessel! you are of course free to land, at the following co-ordinates. Where are the Protectorate vessels? Our traffic control sensors are poor, but we no longer see them over our world. Have they gone? And what do you wish of us?"[/b]

[Stormbringer]

[Sol System, Earth Orbit, AINS Achilles]

The slender black mass of the Asgard heavy cruiser hung still above the glittering jewel of Earth. She had just coasted in to her assigned orbital pattern. Already her shuttles were being prepped for the drop.

"This is Navy Two, to Monacoran control. We have the Princess-Heir and her party aboard. We'd like to make the drop to the planet at your convenience."

"You are cleared to come down, co-ordinates for the Andorran Palace are already on board, send down any subsidiary shuttles to the Andorran Starport."

Andorran Palace, Shuttle port

Britney, daughter of the Political Prince, stepped foreward in her Military uniform, she was currently 'interning' with the military and was also here for symbollic reasoning. Behind her marched two flag bearers, one with the Monacoran national flag, the other the flag of the Monacoran Tenth. Behind them marched four lines of soldiers in ceremonial dress, and to either side of the enclosed landing area was a column of ceremonial guards, a single man thick. Around the top of the palace holo-cameras, manned by Army reporters were prepared to tape the historic event, and around the roof-tops more soldiers, some from the special forces, patrolled searching for anyone who was looking for a way to sabotage this event, even though the published itineraries were two hours later than the actual event. As the Princess to be shouted for the detachment to stop, and called them to attention they began the final minutes of their wait

The Princess-Heir simply walked down the exit ramp, which was flanked by a company of Imperial Guard in their distinctive grey uniforms. Despite the parade ground all of them were alert and ready. The Princess-Heir herself, despite being over fifty, looked like she was in her later twenties. She had long developed a sort of serene majesty about her that was so seemingly at odds with her apparent age.

"Thank you, on behalf of us all, for this welcome here. I understand from here we are to attend the formal signing?"

[SirNitram]

The professional soldier and leader of soldiers in Fisher bristled. He curled his upper lip into a sneer as he responded. "Destroying entire cities full of civilians is not a legitimate military move. Ever." Fisher slashed a hand across his throat, and the comms officer cut the transmission. "Comms, Conn. Fleetwide transmission. Weapons free, I repeat, weapons are free."

"Hypocritical beasts. The Universe will breath a sigh of relief when your primitive stains are wiped from the void.

NRS Warrior
"Hold fire until all port batteries are unmasked and wait for my command." Machine fire flashed against the shields as A-127s streamed off to the starboard, engaging some destroyer or another. "Guns, have the Number 2 battery to starboard soften up that destroyer for the fighters."

A moment's hesitation in combat is all it takes. By the time that Fisher had cut the transmission, the Machine warships were already opening fire. Worse still, the attackers were forced to push out of a minefield that suddenly went active, bomb-pumped X-ray lasers ripping into their hulls violently.

Three Battleships against a Dreadnought and a Battleship, and their half-completed brother, was not quite a fair fight. Especially when the Machine Dreadnought, a staggering six miles long, began cycling it's huge fusion cannons into the Warrior's hull.

The fighters racing to attack the Overseer ran headlong into the devastating crossfire of hundreds of point defense guns, commanded by advanced prediction/tracking datacores.

Several Destroyers were already dying, but those with operational engines were redirecting their burning hulks towards the biggest of the enemy's warships, guided missiles with exactly one charge. A larger Heavy Cruiser was starting to vent atmosphere, it's engines too destroyed to be used as a weapon.

[frigidmagi]

To: Ravenlock
From: United Protectrates State Office

We wish to extend an invitation to exchange ambassadors and estblish formal diplomatic ties, as may be profitable to all parties concerned. We eargerly await your reply.

[Hotfoot]

To: Ravenlock
From: United Protectrates State Office

We wish to extend an invitation to exchange ambassadors and estblish formal diplomatic ties, as may be profitable to all parties concerned. We eargerly await your reply.

To: United Protectorates State Office
From: Office of the Director
Subject: Establishing Diplomatic Ties

The diplomatic station in the Aequitas system is ready to accept diplomats from the United Protectorates. Details concerning the structure can be found here. Also attached are approved vectors of entry to Ravenlock space and the Aequitas system. We look forward to improved relations between our peoples.

[Rogue 9]

The fleet's carriers hung back after launching their fighters. Across the fleet, some variation of "Point defense, take out those mines" was ordered on every ship approaching the field. Most of the point-defense gunners were smart enough to do their jobs without such specific orders, but the few really, seriously slow ones got in on the act. The Solar Flare destroyers, equipped with anti-mine equipment as well as minelaying gear, set to work on the fringes of the fleet.

NRS Dauntless

Captain Emil Corcoran felt the deck plates of his battleship vibrate beneath his feet from the reports of the massive railguns. The heavy cruiser Oppenheimer drilled in close (in relative terms) behind, continuing to pound away at targets brutalized by the tons of c-fractional steel from the battleship.

"Conn, Shields. Shield grid is beginning to fail. At the current rate of enemy fire, I can give you maybe another minute at most."

"Shields, Conn, aye. This thing was originally built to survive without shields. We've got those meters of armor for a reason," said Corcoran, to reassure the nervous young warrant officer. "Sensors, status on the unfinished dreadnought?"

"Not certain, Conn. Hard to pick out what's damage and what's just incomplete yardwork through the jamming. It can't be doing too well, though; it didn't show any shields before the battle and its being pounded from both sides."

"Aye. Torpedo rooms, give them a volley."

The heavy, close range antiship torpedoes launched from their tubes as the Dauntless made her closest approach to its target. The (16? Forget how many tubes I put on these things...) torpedoes shot towards the dreadnought, some heading for the center of mass while the remainder made for the engines. "Conn, torpedo room, torps running hot, straight, and normal."

"Aye."

"Conn, Sensors, the other enemy dreadnought is closing on the Warrior.

"Aye." Corcoran's head snapped around. "Missiles, Conn. Full spread, put all fifty missile launchers on the other dreadnought."

"Aye. Target set. Firing."

On the dorsal surface of the ship, fifty hatches popped open. Starting from the foremost tubes, the heavy missiles rippled out and away, veering towards their target. ECCM gear switched on and directional jammers at full power, the missiles made straight for the dreadnought menacing the Warrior as the hatches they issued from rumbled shut.

An ovoid bubble of energy around the Dauntless flared and went out.

"Conn, Shields. Shield grid is down." This report was confirmed immediately by several jarring impacts as hits found their way to the hardened, braced, and extremely thick hull of the pre-shielding ship of the line. "Hull holding."

It was actually quite normal for the shields of Nashtari ships to go out far sooner than the hull would burn through. Shield technology was new to the Republic, and Nashtari shield generators were relatively weak for their size when compared to those of other powers. But this meant that their warships were meant to fight without the benefit of energy shields at all; in fact the Dauntless's shield generators were a refit addition made just two years previously. [OOC: Just rehashing my OOB, so you don't start thinking that you can declare the ship's immediate destruction now...]

"Comms, signal Enterprise and Intrepid. Request that they task a squadron of B-95s to cover our flanks. Helm, bring us about, head back to the fleet center at flank speed. We're trading duties with the Gladius."

"Aye, Captain." The bombers were on their way thirty seconds later, gunning for anything threatening the retreating battleship. Off to port, the Warrior followed suit, moving out of the press. The Warrior's crew was the best trained in the entire RSC, and her gunners laid down expert covering fire as superheated drive exhaust bloomed into a sextet of blue-white cones from the engine nozzles. Her shields similarly failed as she pulled away, the Curie, thus far ignored in favor of the larger ship, doing all it could to cover the Commodore's ship before making her own run for open space. They'd get clear and then prowl the outer edges of the battle.

[OOC: Wish I had time for more detail, but I have to run.]

[SirNitram]

The fleet's carriers hung back after launching their fighters. Across the fleet, some variation of "Point defense, take out those mines" was ordered on every ship approaching the field. Most of the point-defense gunners were smart enough to do their jobs without such specific orders, but the few really, seriously slow ones got in on the act. The Solar Flare destroyers, equipped with anti-mine equipment as well as minelaying gear, set to work on the fringes of the fleet.

After several minutes of attacking despite being literally told they were surrounded by mines, there wasn't much mineclearing to be done. The warheads had expended their one-shot pumped lasers in hurting the initial thrust. A few relics of some ancient war, true contact mines, were cleared out of the way, though.

NRS Dauntless

Captain Emil Corcoran felt the deck plates of his battleship vibrate beneath his feet from the reports of the massive railguns. The heavy cruiser Oppenheimer drilled in close (in relative terms) behind, continuing to pound away at targets brutalized by the tons of c-fractional steel from the battleship.

"Conn, Shields. Shield grid is beginning to fail. At the current rate of enemy fire, I can give you maybe another minute at most."

"Shields, Conn, aye. This thing was originally built to survive without shields. We've got those meters of armor for a reason," said Corcoran, to reassure the nervous young warrant officer. "Sensors, status on the unfinished dreadnought?"

"Not certain, Conn. Hard to pick out what's damage and what's just incomplete yardwork through the jamming. It can't be doing too well, though; it didn't show any shields before the battle and its being pounded from both sides."

"Aye. Torpedo rooms, give them a volley."

The heavy, close range antiship torpedoes launched from their tubes as the Dauntless made her closest approach to its target. The (16? Forget how many tubes I put on these things...) torpedoes shot towards the dreadnought, some heading for the center of mass while the remainder made for the engines. "Conn, torpedo room, torps running hot, straight, and normal."

The unfinished Dreadnought was listing to one side now, actually starting a slow spin. But her point defense was still partially operational; dozens of gatling lasers stabbed at the approaching torpedos to hold off it's death.

"Aye."

"Conn, Sensors, the other enemy dreadnought is closing on the Warrior.

"Aye." Corcoran's head snapped around. "Missiles, Conn. Full spread, put all fifty missile launchers on the other dreadnought."

"Aye. Target set. Firing."

On the dorsal surface of the ship, fifty hatches popped open. Starting from the foremost tubes, the heavy missiles rippled out and away, veering towards their target. ECCM gear switched on and directional jammers at full power, the missiles made straight for the dreadnought menacing the Warrior as the hatches they issued from rumbled shut.

<<Missiles approach. Standard assault. Jamming heavy; use enhanced optics instead.>>

The full three hundred defensive emplacements on the huge ship spat back at the torpedos, wiping them out as the railguns and fusion cannons roared angrily.

An ovoid bubble of energy around the Dauntless flared and went out.

"Conn, Shields. Shield grid is down." This report was confirmed immediately by several jarring impacts as hits found their way to the hardened, braced, and extremely thick hull of the pre-shielding ship of the line. "Hull holding."

It was actually quite normal for the shields of Nashtari ships to go out far sooner than the hull would burn through. Shield technology was new to the Republic, and Nashtari shield generators were relatively weak for their size when compared to those of other powers. But this meant that their warships were meant to fight without the benefit of energy shields at all; in fact the Dauntless's shield generators were a refit addition made just two years previously. [OOC: Just rehashing my OOB, so you don't start thinking that you can declare the ship's immediate destruction now...]

"The human phrase," A mechanized voice spoke on the hailing frequency. "Is stabbing your eyes out."

Dozens of gatling lasers joined the railguns, but they sought out the weakest chink in the overarmoured hull: The sensors, to burn them out.

"Comms, signal Enterprise and Intrepid. Request that they task a squadron of B-95s to cover our flanks. Helm, bring us about, head back to the fleet center at flank speed. We're trading duties with the Gladius."

"Aye, Captain." The bombers were on their way thirty seconds later, gunning for anything threatening the retreating battleship. Off to port, the Warrior followed suit, moving out of the press. The Warrior's crew was the best trained in the entire RSC, and her gunners laid down expert covering fire as superheated drive exhaust bloomed into a sextet of blue-white cones from the engine nozzles. Her shields similarly failed as she pulled away, the Curie, thus far ignored in favor of the larger ship, doing all it could to cover the Commodore's ship before making her own run for open space. They'd get clear and then prowl the outer edges of the battle.

[OOC: Wish I had time for more detail, but I have to run.]

The battle continued to rage, the Battleship starting to wither under constant fighter attention. Even her massive PD network was being slowly overwhelmed.

The Tower, however, held it's own. Equipped with nearly as many lasers as the Dreadnoughts, it swatting missiles out of the sky.

OOC: Someone forgot my ships carry absurd amounts of PD because we use no fighters...

[speaker-to-trolls]

Speaker:

Yes. Yes, I see. This will require some time, and I must send back to Itsilaar for the governments stance. I can see what you mean by this, I can see that it may be nessecary, but I still have some difficulty invisioning it. Not to insult you, of course, you and the Montezumans are two completely seperate cases. They are still very primitive, though that may well be our fault, they have a savage culture, warrior society, that sort of thing, much as we try to make them more refined it still persists."
Kitsek was surprised to find he was not lieing, these humans genuinely were different from the auxiliaries, they were so much more... refined. They were taller, as well, he realised, probably someting to do with nutriton, or gravity. "So, moving on. Who are these other ambassadors representing?".

"Quite understandable no one would expect overnight results. Has for the ambassadors, well there will the Republic and the K.S.E as well has the Altantians and the Drack Republic, which are both non human. As well has a ambassador from the Union and maybe the Shi and Asgard, which is one of the bigger and older human states. Quite impressive for a first meeting. I hope to arrange meeting with some of the other states like Ravenlock soon as well."

"Excellent. I should return to the embassy to send my report to the cabinet. I look forward to a long and mutually beneficial future of cooperation between our nations. Good day, Lord Protector."
Kitsek exited the Lord Protectors office and set off back toward the embassy, his escort in tow.

[frigidmagi]

"Excellent. I should return to the embassy to send my report to the cabinet. I look forward to a long and mutually beneficial future of cooperation between our nations. Good day, Lord Protector."

"Good Day, Ambassador." Joshua Mattews said raising from his seat and seeing him out. After the Ambassador had left he turned to one of his Men At Arms.

"Sir, the Union President has requested a meeting."

"My, my, What a busy day..."

[Straha]

Ezekiel

"Monacoran vessel! you are of course free to land, at the following co-ordinates. Where are the Protectorate vessels? Our traffic control sensors are poor, but we no longer see them over our world. Have they gone? And what do you wish of us?"[/b]

"They are gone, and will not return. We must discuss the future of the people of the planet, and the planet itself. We are heading down now."

[Rogue 9]

The unfinished Dreadnought was listing to one side now, actually starting a slow spin. But her point defense was still partially operational; dozens of gatling lasers stabbed at the approaching torpedos to hold off it's death.

<snip>

<<Missiles approach. Standard assault. Jamming heavy; use enhanced optics instead.>>

The full three hundred defensive emplacements on the huge ship spat back at the torpedos, wiping them out as the railguns and fusion cannons roared angrily.

"Sir, they're swatting our missiles down like flies. Nothing's even coming close."

"Damn. Nothing to be done about it now. Guns, put as many shells as you can into that monster."

"The human phrase," A mechanized voice spoke on the hailing frequency. "Is stabbing your eyes out."

Dozens of gatling lasers joined the railguns, but they sought out the weakest chink in the overarmoured hull: The sensors, to burn them out.

"DAMN! Conn, Sensors. They're punching out the active scanners on the outer hull. They haven't found the passive receivers yet, but the backup scanners inside the armor are very short range."

"Machines know what they're about. Make do."

The battle continued to rage, the Battleship starting to wither under constant fighter attention. Even her massive PD network was being slowly overwhelmed.

The Tower, however, held it's own. Equipped with nearly as many lasers as the Dreadnoughts, it swatting missiles out of the sky.

OOC: Someone forgot my ships carry absurd amounts of PD because we use no fighters...

NRS Gladius

Captain Benz, commander of Fifth Fleet's third battleship, stood up as his ship entered the fray, coming off of escort duty for the carriers and making straight for the Dauntless as Machine ships pursued the other ship of the line. The cruisers Newton and Mendel followed back and to either side. "Guns, fire at will."

Tons of steel lanced forth, seeking and mostly finding the threats to his ship's sister. "Now the fun begins," muttered the captain to himself.

The two mighty ships blasted past each other, Gladius moving in and Dauntless moving out, with Oppenheimer close behind. This was the tricky part. "Helm, hard starboard, ahead one third."

"Aye." The huge ship sloughed to the right, eclipsing the receding stern of the Dauntless and uncovering her full broadside to the pursuers.

The classic crossing of the T, while normally not as useful in the three-dimensional environment of space as it was in sea combat, did indeed momentarily work in the more linear motion necessitated by pursuit. It wouldn't stay that way for long, but Benz fully intended to take advantage while he could. The full fury of the ship's heavy railguns reached out for the pursuing destroyers.

[OOC: Taking an inventory, any pursuers would be cruiser weight at most; one dreadnought's disabled, the other is after the Warrior, and you yourself said that the battleship was tied up with a bomber swarm and escorts. Unless I missed something, that's all your capital ships right there.]

NRS Galileo

The two remaining heavy cruisers, Galileo and Copernicus, rocketed towards the Warrior and Curie, followed by several destroyers and frigates, at the same time the Gladius was moving to relieve the Dauntless. The flotilla's smaller vessels would suffer horribly if they tried to slug it out with the dreadnought, and they knew it. Fortunately, that was not the plan.

"Guns, fire at will. Helm, bring us right to heading 259 as we clear the Warrior. We only need to cover for a few seconds," ordered Captain Brosden of the Galileo. Below his ship, Copernicus performed the same maneuver. Fusion blasts reached out for the two ships, shaking them badly.

"Conn, Shields. The field will fail in moments in this fire, sir!"

"Shields, aye. We'll be out of here soon." Even as he said it, his reasons for saying so streaked past between his ship and the enemy dreadnought.

The five Solar Flare class destroyers streaked by, engines straining as the rear-mounted minelayers dropped thousands of gun and homing contact mines between the dreadnought and its quarry. One of the destroyers fell to a barrage of fusion blasts as it began its turn out, spinning in space as escape pods flew from the hull. The doomed ship's guns continued firing on automatic sequence as the gunners desperately made for their pods. Behind the surviving minelayers, the field began to move towards the dreadnought, some of the mines firing as they went, others simply activating high-power one-shot rockets and shooting towards the vessel like meteors. All carried impact warheads, and all would seek to ram, the gun-equipped ones turning on their own jets once their limited ammunition was expended. The mines homed through visual and other passive means, and the jets fired for only a few seconds to accelerate before burning out. They would be much harder to acquire than the earlier missiles.

[SirNitram]

NRS Gladius

Captain Benz, commander of Fifth Fleet's third battleship, stood up as his ship entered the fray, coming off of escort duty for the carriers and making straight for the Dauntless as Machine ships pursued the other ship of the line. The cruisers Newton and Mendel followed back and to either side. "Guns, fire at will."

Tons of steel lanced forth, seeking and mostly finding the threats to his ship's sister. "Now the fun begins," muttered the captain to himself.

The two mighty ships blasted past each other, Gladius moving in and Dauntless moving out, with Oppenheimer close behind. This was the tricky part. "Helm, hard starboard, ahead one third."

"Aye." The huge ship sloughed to the right, eclipsing the receding stern of the Dauntless and uncovering her full broadside to the pursuers.

The classic crossing of the T, while normally not as useful in the three-dimensional environment of space as it was in sea combat, did indeed momentarily work in the more linear motion necessitated by pursuit. It wouldn't stay that way for long, but Benz fully intended to take advantage while he could. The full fury of the ship's heavy railguns reached out for the pursuing destroyers.

[OOC: Taking an inventory, any pursuers would be cruiser weight at most; one dreadnought's disabled, the other is after the Warrior, and you yourself said that the battleship was tied up with a bomber swarm and escorts. Unless I missed something, that's all your capital ships right there.]

A trio of Destroyers were torn apart, in the ensuing trap, leaving perhaps a half-dozen aiding the huge Dreadnought still operational.

A few 'dead' Destroyers were still moving, though, their engines imparting last momentum. They streaked towards the enemy line, now little more than dead hulks with Programmers imparting last-minute course correction via venting gases.

NRS Galileo

The two remaining heavy cruisers, Galileo and Copernicus, rocketed towards the Warrior and Curie, followed by several destroyers and frigates, at the same time the Gladius was moving to relieve the Dauntless. The flotilla's smaller vessels would suffer horribly if they tried to slug it out with the dreadnought, and they knew it. Fortunately, that was not the plan.

"Guns, fire at will. Helm, bring us right to heading 259 as we clear the Warrior. We only need to cover for a few seconds," ordered Captain Brosden of the Galileo. Below his ship, Copernicus performed the same maneuver. Fusion blasts reached out for the two ships, shaking them badly.

"Conn, Shields. The field will fail in moments in this fire, sir!"

"Shields, aye. We'll be out of here soon." Even as he said it, his reasons for saying so streaked past between his ship and the enemy dreadnought.

The five Solar Flare class destroyers streaked by, engines straining as the rear-mounted minelayers dropped thousands of gun and homing contact mines between the dreadnought and its quarry. One of the destroyers fell to a barrage of fusion blasts as it began its turn out, spinning in space as escape pods flew from the hull. The doomed ship's guns continued firing on automatic sequence as the gunners desperately made for their pods. Behind the surviving minelayers, the field began to move towards the dreadnought, some of the mines firing as they went, others simply activating high-power one-shot rockets and shooting towards the vessel like meteors. All carried impact warheads, and all would seek to ram, the gun-equipped ones turning on their own jets once their limited ammunition was expended. The mines homed through visual and other passive means, and the jets fired for only a few seconds to accelerate before burning out. They would be much harder to acquire than the earlier missiles.

<<Contact mines? How primitive. Still, can't let them get the idea they might win with such stupidity..>>

The destroyers guarding the Dreadnought formed a literal shield, moving between the huge ship and the oncoming storm, and all seven ships let their point defense free to rip into the obvious signs of a mine firing it's rocket motors.

Doomed or not, the Dreadnought was surviving the storm so far, and aimed one of it's massive railguns at the enemy carrier. Why, after all, should it not receive some fun? Several other guns joined it, and began lobbing shells into the least-defended part of the huge ship:

Right into the hangar.

[Thirdfain]

"They are gone, and will not return. We must discuss the future of the people of the planet, and the planet itself. We are heading down now."

"You'll have your chance, heathen. We pray that your terms are more... agreeable than those of the Protectorate's toy soldiers. You may meet our representatives outside of Sacrament City, at the following location."

[Straha]

"They are gone, and will not return. We must discuss the future of the people of the planet, and the planet itself. We are heading down now."

"You'll have your chance, heathen. We pray that your terms are more... agreeable than those of the Protectorate's toy soldiers. You may meet our representatives outside of Sacrament City, at the following location."

The Negotiater landed and walked from the shuttle to the meeting place, flanked by four marine guards.

"Hello, I represent the Government of Monacora here. A pleasure to meet you all."

[Thirdfain]

"A pleasure? Perhaps you misunderstand, Monacoran. I do not doubt that you come with the same idea as the Protectorate god-haters. You wish to take from us the land we've fought for, no? You wish to desecrate our temples and streets with your heathen ways? Know this- we will fight to the last for our freedom. We give you the same deal we allowed the Protectorate- Recognize our independence, and we will leave your people alone. We will even refrain from sending weapons and assistance to our brethren on the still-occupied worlds, and we will hold our peace until such time as they stand free on their own. Beyond that, we will broker no foreign intervention in our Godly affairs."

[Straha]

"A pleasure? Perhaps you misunderstand, Monacoran. I do not doubt that you come with the same idea as the Protectorate god-haters. You wish to take from us the land we've fought for, no? You wish to desecrate our temples and streets with your heathen ways? Know this- we will fight to the last for our freedom. We give you the same deal we allowed the Protectorate- Recognize our independence, and we will leave your people alone. We will even refrain from sending weapons and assistance to our brethren on the still-occupied worlds, and we will hold our peace until such time as they stand free on their own. Beyond that, we will broker no foreign intervention in our Godly affairs."

"I tender a counter-offer. You need the protection, from other pissant nations looking to expand, and from people looking for revenge. We offer this, we'll give control of the planet over to you, based on your regional areas of influence, for five years, with resonable restrictions placed on your control. In return we will ensure you stay in power, and provide some degree of safety. While this is going on we will raise a police force, build up infra-structure, and prepare your planet for total integration with Monacora. After that we'll move you to different positions of power, or to retirement locations of your choice, with a pension from us. What do you think?"

[admiral_danielsben]

The President of the Union arrived at the capital of the United Protecterates to be escorted to the meeting with Lord-Protector Matthews. He had come with others, of course: an advisor, a Union Intelligence representative/agent, and a half-dozen Special Service Agents for protection.

He had come on the Presidential cruiser; the official word was he was conducting 'trade negotiations'; he figured he'd better throw in a few minor points in regards to trade. And if relations with the UP were to be improved, there were those 'white elephant' cutters which the military brass wanted to get rid of.

He wondered if he should reveal his telepathic abilities to Lord-Protector Matthews BEFORE negotiations began.

[Thirdfain]

"We have fought the mighty Mages, and the armored fist of the Nashtar and the Protectorate. We have lost our friends and family, and still we stand. We fear no "pissant nations." We have, now, the weapons to defend our worlds. Our counter-offer. You will recieve favored nation trading status, and a quarter of our mines fruit will go to you, for five years after this. The rest will be ours to use. Your vessels will come and go as they please, but we will not have our hands held by your people. We will build our own streets, tender our own police, and govern our own worlds. As for integration, we spit on the very idea. Our worlds are our own. We will forge a new nation, divorced from the petty clerics, returning the power to the honest priests and the armed Mujahdeen whose strength and true, people's faith has succeeded where the highest psychopomps in their finery have failed. In return, you will not have to bleed your people white taking and holding our worlds, and you will have some of our wealth to fatten your banks. We offer no negotiation from these points, besides the poignant words of our holy weapons."

[Straha]

Admiral Santiago twirled around in his captain's chair again, damn this was fun. The Bridge ran like an efficent machine around him, the fleet was perparing to leave, they just needed one more thing to arrive, it should have arrived hours ago, but something must have delayed it.

"Sir, Sensors picking up something coming in from Hyper."

"That's probably them, boys."

"Sir, ships have exited, it's a few destroyers and four mine-layers, all ours. Sir, the lead Mine-Layer is hailing us."

"Private Holo, put her on."

Suddenly a hologram sprang into view, in it women, maybe late thirties, was leaning heavilly back in a Captain's chair.

"Hey Santy, sorry we're late, uncharted storm blasted through."

"Likley story, Captain, prepare to head out."

"It's Commodore now, Santy, Commodore Bishop, has a ring to it doesn't it? Where we going?"

"Prolonged foray into Machinist space, nine months in and nine out, sooner back if we need supplies or refit."

"I see. Well, lead the way Admiral."

With that the line was cut, and Santiago turned back to his bridge.

"Send a message to the fleet, we're heading out. Oh, Patch me up to all the ships here too."

With that the Monacoran fleet, plus a few Minelayers, began its trip to the next, suspected, machinist planet, with its last message around this, now burning, world being. "YYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! Pity you boys ain't coming for the ride. And off we go, over the wild blue yonder."

[Straha]

"We have fought the mighty Mages, and the armored fist of the Nashtar and the Protectorate. We have lost our friends and family, and still we stand. We fear no "pissant nations." We have, now, the weapons to defend our worlds. Our counter-offer. You will recieve favored nation trading status, and a quarter of our mines fruit will go to you, for five years after this. The rest will be ours to use. Your vessels will come and go as they please, but we will not have our hands held by your people. We will build our own streets, tender our own police, and govern our own worlds. As for integration, we spit on the very idea. Our worlds are our own. We will forge a new nation, divorced from the petty clerics, returning the power to the honest priests and the armed Mujahdeen whose strength and true, people's faith has succeeded where the highest psychopomps in their finery have failed. In return, you will not have to bleed your people white taking and holding our worlds, and you will have some of our wealth to fatten your banks. We offer no negotiation from these points, besides the poignant words of our holy weapons."

"How is this for a counter offer, our same deal as above, but instead you have fifty years of tax free status. You will, in essence, be a seperate entity with access to our rather large checkbook. The only way that would change is if a new nation threatened hostilities with us and you, and even then the taxes would be minute. In return the only controls we'd have over your nation would be law enforcement, utilities, and rebuilding your damaged infrastructure."

[Thirdfain]

"It is words, Monacoran, that matter. Legalities have power- and we must be sovereign. This is not a point I will argue with a heathen or any other. If you are a fool, you will persist in trying to take from us this word, this legality of freedom. God's country will NOT languish beneath the fist of foreign heathens! Your offer is denied. We willl have our own nation, if we must build on a foundation of the corpses of martyrs a mile high!"

[Bugsby]

"I've noticed something different about the boss recently."

"How so?"

"I don't know. Ever since the Rape, when Emir died. Emir was his best friend, you know that, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, since then, the boss has been more strange. Detatched. Haven't ahd a real conversation with him since then."

"I guess you're right. But then again..." Faran cut off in midsentence to think. "Well, it doesn't matter too much, Trilla. He still gives the orders around here. But I will keep an eye on him from now on."

"Good idea."

Cold. Alone. Shivering in the Dark. They're all around me. No one's there. I see everything. I am weak. I am blind. Power. The Dark. So alone. So cold. So Cold.

Nexus
The two guards twitched nervously. This area of the Nexus had been sealed off over a month ago, its contents labeled as top secret. No one had access. No one except for Adar Krell, of course. Krell the Deathless, the man they were escorting. Adar Krell stepped up to the door and keyed in his ID. Voice scan. Retinal scan. DNA scan. The door opened. They went in.

The passage ahead was dark, lit dimly by the glowpoles built into the walls. Only minimal life support was on in this area. But still, temperature and oxygen were normal, it was comfortable enough. But the dimness and the utter solitude of the place made it horribly uninviting. The guards shifted nervously, but Krell stepped forward without a second's hesitation, and they had no choice but to follow. The looked about nervously as they walked, noting the dented bulkheads with a slight shivver. Where were they going?

I see you. There you are. Right there. So far away. Always with me. I smell you. I hear you. I see you. I think you. There. Come to me. Go away. Get out of this place. Get out of my head. Come to me.

Krell came to the end of the hall and stopped at a small door. He smiled and opened it, stepping inside. The guards moved uncertainly to flank him. Inside the small room, curled up in a corner, was Yrt Ztal.

The months since Manasa had been hell for Yrt. A week before that operation, he had accepted neural implants from Combine Command, implants to help him in his mission, implants that had kept him alive for his mission. He had become psychic. But the cost was greater than he could have imagined. As each day went by, he became more and more sensitive to his psychic abilities. Instead of vague impressions, he got full ideas. He could read people like a book, be fully aware of everything around him. And he couldn't stop. Images, thoughts, feelings. Hyperawareness bombarded him day and night and he was unable to shut it out. A month ago, he had been secluded. He had to save others from what he could do to them. He had to preserve his sanity. For a month, he had seen or heard nothing except for the screaming in his head, muted by the distance he kept from everyone else in the station, but still there; still maddening. Now, for the first time in what seemed to be centuries, he saw other people, other minds. And rage consumed him.

Lashing out with everything in his mind, he attacked. Pure psychic energy roiled through the room towards Adar Krell and his two guards. The guards fell. Clutching their heads, they rolled on the floor, screaming to empty their lungs, convulsing, and were suddenly stilled. Krell didn't miss a beat in his steps, as he continued his slow advance on Yrt.

"Temper, temper. You must have known that wouldn't work. Or did you forget who designed those implants to begin with. Hm?"

Yrt's eyes bulged with rage and madness. "YOU! IT WAS ALL YOU!" He leaped off the ground, and ran towards Adar. He had no weapons, but his body was enough. He swung a fist at Krell. The Combine leader smoothly reached out and caught Yrt's hand in mid-punch. Yrt hardly had time to register surprise before he found himself flung back into the corner where he had been crouching before. Adar Krell smiled. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Krell advanced on Yrt at that same implacable pace. Yrt recoiled, as though expecting a blow, as Krell reached out. Instead of a blow, Krell merely placed a hand on Yrt's shoulder in a gesture that could only be described as friendly. Yrt's trembling slowed and stopped. For the first time in weeks his mind felt clear. He had not been revived through any special power of Krell's, but simply through the power of contact with another human being. When Yrt had calmed enough, Krell began to speak.

"I have a job for you, Yrt. A new contract, from the Veithans. It looks like you made quite an impression back there on Manassa. They requested you specifically."

"What - what do they want?"

"The usual. Infiltrate. Kill. An emphasis on stealth. Not only can you not be caught, you cannot be seen."

"Weapons?"

"This." Krell pulled out a gun and handed it to him. "Feel free to use anything else, but make sure your primary targets are taken down with this weapon and no other. In return, you will be given to the Veithans. They can help you. They can teach you control. You are special, Yrt. You must realize that by now. With their help, you can learn to control what you have become. You want that, don't you?" Yrt nodded eagerly.

"There is a shuttle waiting for you. You can begin as soon as you are ready. Files are onboard the shuttle, read up on as much as you can during your transit." Yrt nodded eagerly. Krell was relieved. At last he would have part of this station back.

"Your nightmare will be over soon, Yrt. You will be whole again. And you will be powerful." Yrt's eyes glittered in the dark.

[Straha]

"It is words, Monacoran, that matter. Legalities have power- and we must be sovereign. This is not a point I will argue with a heathen or any other. If you are a fool, you will persist in trying to take from us this word, this legality of freedom. God's country will NOT languish beneath the fist of foreign heathens! Your offer is denied. We willl have our own nation, if we must build on a foundation of the corpses of martyrs a mile high!"

The negotiator stared at the gathered people, and then slowly reached around her neck and pulled off a large gold symbol, and then placed the crucifix reverently on the table.

"You seem to fail to realise, we are God's country. We have fought the long fight, we have gone from two impudent specks of land to a galactic power in a mere nine hundred years. We are full of believers, and we are in no way heathens or heretics, unlike the Arcanist murderers or the Protectorate. Look at who has destroyed the Arcanist Empire, and removed the Protectorate from this place with the will from above. He who destroyed Soddom and Gomorah has acted through us to do the same again. Yet you do not join his people when they offer you peace, security, and rebuilding? I understand why you would believe us to be Heathens, however wrong that is, but we are far from it. Come and join us and share us in his benevolant grace. My previous offer still stands."

[Thirdfain]

"I look across from me and see no true adherant to the Church. DO you pay respects to the Psychopomp? Do you take the Five Sacraments? Do you pray before the Saint of Battles? I do not think so. Your mangled half-truths and heretical symbols have no place here. I call you a heretic and a heathen, and no true member of god's country! Do not defile our land with your twisted ways, Heretic.

My last offer stands. Accept it, or leave. We will be ready if you decide to come for us. Our arms are those of God, or weapons the swords of his angels, and our spirit the spirit of the Battle Saint!"

-/ooc Yeah, maybe it;s the same cross, but if there's one thing the last 2000 years of history has taught us, it's that there's no religious hatred like a "minor doctorinal difference" religious hatred- and the CoG has some massive fucking differences with the mainstream.

[Straha]

"I look across from me and see no true adherant to the Church. DO you pay respects to the Psychopomp? Do you take the Five Sacraments? Do you pray before the Saint of Battles? I do not think so. Your mangled half-truths and heretical symbols have no place here. I call you a heretic and a heathen, and no true member of god's country! Do not defile our land with your twisted ways, Heretic.

My last offer stands. Accept it, or leave. We will be ready if you decide to come for us. Our arms are those of God, or weapons the swords of his angels, and our spirit the spirit of the Battle Saint!"

-/ooc Yeah, maybe it;s the same cross, but if there's one thing the last 2000 years of history has taught us, it's that there's no religious hatred like a "minor doctorinal difference" religious hatred- and the CoG has some massive fucking differences with the mainstream.

"Yes, yes, and yes. You look across you and see a foreigner, I follow the one true path, I look forward to when I can perform the sacrament of Sacrafice, I can recite the prayer of the blessed warrior, I could recite it backwards if you'd like. I made the visits to the shrines of the warriors, and I strive to be like them. I do not want to condemn you to the Wrath of God, but if you keep denying us this will be on your heads, and not on mine. This is your last chance."

(OOC: For the rest of you, as I said to Thirdfain over AIM the reason I didn't send one of my better negotiaters is because this is one of the Monacorans who actually believes in the way of the Covvies.)