STGOD2k6 Main Thread

[Thirdfain]

<< Mekidar station, I'd recommend you amend your tone. This is a peaceful trading mission. Surely, such inflammatory speech is not necessary? Moreover, this absurd ban on the approach of my vessels simply won't do. What are we going to do, blast you into the void un-provoked? We simply can't transport all of our goods in the pinnaces alone. Surely it can be arranged for you to allow the Ghalchrist to dock. In fact, I'd like to invite the commanding officer of your 8th to dine on-board tonight. We must be getting along our itinterary shortly, but I would be most pleased if our short stay is productive, rather than destructive.>>

[Adrian Laguna]

The semi-circular chamber that constitues the General Assembly is very large. The seating spans about a hundred-and-seventy degrees. Rows of desks lie almost on top of one another as they rise high above the floor to accomodate thousands of Assemblymembers. At the center of the incomplete circle lies a raised platform facing the rows of seats, with the Princep's symbol engraved on it. On the wall behind the platform is a massive Shield of the Mekidar Republic.

General Assembly of the Mekidar Republic, several weeks ago

The seating in the Assembly Hall was full, thousands gathered to discuss a very important issue: how to approach the renewed activity in the Cluster.

A relatively young Mekidar was finishing a speech. "...Reckless aggression is a road doomed to terribe consequences. It is only through caution and careful diplomacy that we will be successful." There was no reaction from the audience, just muted conversation breaking their silence. He wasn't expecting any, cheering takes time that might be better spent on letting someone else speak.

That someone else was much older, but had been and Assemblymember for considerably less time. The difference mattered little. A legislature of thousands requires the creation of many formal and informal factions. Who says something isn't as important as on who's behalf it is being said.

The older Mekidar rose, and the conversation died down. "During the Great Wars the Republic had a general policy very similar to the tame appreach that has been suggested. We were diplomatic, we were cautions. The Republic took steps to protect its interests, and those of its allies. These steps included subterfuge and direct military accion, they enjoyed varying degress of success. Despite these measures, the Republic suffered and lost much more than we can ever truly account for. As did everyone else, yes, but the damage could have been mitigated."

"What the approach was lacking, what the suggested approach lacks, is the inniciative to expand our interests and influence. We must be willing to be aggressive and assertive in establishing ourselves and mantaining a position as an important power. A defensive stance, even an active one, did not suceed in the past. It did not fail, but mere lack of failure is not enough. The Republic cannot afford to settle for that. The Republic must stand ready to seize all opportunities to gain power, influence, or territory, and it must stand ready to protect all those things at a moment's notice."

"In light of the recent actions of Arisia, we must come to the conclusion that imperialism and mercantilism are the chief forces in this day and age. We cannot allow ourselves to be outgrown, outexpanded, and outpolitiked. This time the Mekidar Republic must take action to secure our safety and prosperity." The speaker let his eyes sweep the entire Hall, then took his seat.

That was merely the opening salvo of a barrage of information. Rethoritcal tricks do little but waste time in the Republic. The short speech was followed by other speakers, of the same and allied factions, presenting very detailed and in-depth arguments supporting the general approach outlined. These arguments included historical data, theoretical exercises, extrapolations, simulations, and much more. There was nothing unusual about this, failure to back an argument results in an argument that ends in failure.

After a few days of near constant speaking and debating, the General Assembly closed the Policy Discussion and moved back to passing laws, iniciatives, and budgets. No 'winner' or official policy came from the Discussion, that wasn't the point. Rather, certain factions and associated points of view had gained or lost supporters both in the Assembly and among the populace. These changes would, in turn, affect how the legislature votes on a wide range of issues.

As a direct result of the Policy Discussion, spending for certain superflous or extra social services was cut dramatically (public art is nice, but is also worth jack and shit in times of war), and the money poured into industrial and military growth. The readiness and alertness of the armed forces was critically examined and revised. Industry, thanks to various incentives and increasingly more voluminous outside trade, began to expand much more rapidly into the secondary worlds, and see greater growth in the core and primary worlds.

A new wave of expansion rocked the Mekidar Republic.

[Dahak]

Falau'un System, Falu'un Cruinne

Hieran Da'shu, Lord Da'shu looked into the glass sculpture representing the galaxy. He raised his eyebrow as he observed one particular corner.
"It seems the Avalonian League is increasing their actvities outside their border."
"Yes," one of the analysts next to him answered. "We seem to be observing a possible phase of expansion."
"Not that it is unexpected, really," Da'shu pondered. "Nonetheless, we should be observing this closely. We cannot have them get too large for their own good..."
"Yes, my Lord," the underling nodded. "High Command will increase its observation and is planning to increase the picket density at our recon/trad outpost.
"Good."

***

Merat system, Merat Prime

The Merat system lay a few light years outside the accepted sphere of Falau'un influence. Its sole habitable planet was populated by a species of near-Falau'un which were just beyond their first clumsy steps into the galaxy. That, of course, had been registered by Falau'un. The Council had had no intention of expanding its territory back then, so it was allowed to exist; but to have an eye on them, an embassy was installed and even some development help (in return for mining rights and other trade boni) has been granted. In the light of the new galaxy, a different strategy was about to be implemented.
Erwid Ala'as, House Frwen, Air-Mage in the Falau'un Special Intervention Squad, was the one to do it. Magically and genetically altered to blend in with the Merati, he casually leaned against Market Hall and looked at the Falau'un embassy at the other side of Market Square. He still felt ackward, with his flat, round ears, those strange, flat nose-less faces and, the most insulting, short hair. He concentrated on the embassy and the market. It was a busy day, with traders and merchants from all over the continent. It wasn't long, just a few more seconds.
A local was about to approach the embassy, brainwashed and mindwiped to do what he had ordered him to. The small, dirty nuke would only destroy the square and a few hundred metres around it. The embassy would be mostly destroyed. It had never been built and created to stand up to that kind of punishment it was about to face.
He counted the seconds down. A split second before the bomb went off, he teleported away, observing the cataclysm from safe distance.
Now the fleet would move, coming to protect the innocent and Falau'un alike from the terrible, terrible beast of terrorism.

[Thirdfain]

Crobuzon Enclave
The Lesser Library

-edit- Accidently destroyed this post while typing up the latest one.... Fuck me, ne?

Anyways, what happened was, there was a big quorom on Crobuzon/Quelectin trade, verra nice. The High Speaker came, and shook hands with the Speaker of Clan Military Historic, who was wearing a stylin' scarf in the hot industrial breeze.

A couple Quelectin chilling in the back of the crowd were watching, and said "Liberty and Equality, Brother" to eachother. They didn't like traitors.

That's pretty much it.

[Lancer]

Lantia:
Fabrication-complexes across the planet were busy forging components for a new series of minor installations. A good deal of these would be headed to new worlds, to expand the Leagues view of the regions beyond its northern and eastern frontiers. A small fleet of ships was scattered throughout the system, conducting all sorts of routine operations ranging from gunnery drills to first-contact protocols. In a few short days, several would be called to escort the first wave of various freighters contracted to carry the components, as well as the odd bit of equipment to make room for the compounds. Though pirate attacks were unlikely, "incidents" between rival trade-guilds had been known to occur at the far edges of the Leagues authority.

[Thirdfain]

The Pheonix Cluster

To a thousand ports came the vessels- Crobuzon Aetherclippers, Falau'un airships, and Lh'won fast couriers.
In tens of thousands of tongues, the messages were repeated, broadcast and played in forms of media diverse as machine-brain hologram to antique pages of cheap paper and smudged newspaper ink.

Across the Sphere, the message was spread. Carried on transmissions and scrying-lines, by governmental edict and free traders paid handsomely by Crobuzoner, Lh'won, and Falau'un interests, it reached distant worlds, planets and systems which had never seen an aetherclipper or magickal airship. The message was carried through the nether on high-yield hypercom bands, and over land on horseback.

It was a simple, short message- the division of the Sphere was over. No longer would the distant worlds rent asunder in the closing wars of the Age of Steel be limited to intermittent contact over unsure lines of communication. The islands of civilization, hacked out of the political discord and chaos of the Pheonix Cluster, would once again be linked, by both physical transportation and faster-than-light communications.

The locations were disseminated, the co-ordinates for the newly built stations. Garuantees of protection and safe passages were given. It was in many ways a risk- there were those who would doubtless see the trade-line as a juicy target. However, the guns of Crobuzoner and Lh'won and Falau'un starships could not be missed, under which a new trickle of commerce began- a trickle which could very well become a flood.

Ghrlch (Complected) -public relations officer for Tfenn Zero-G Assemblies- spoke without hesitation into the crowd of pict-drones hovering before him at head-height in one of the ready rooms of the LPGN vessel Signal Honour. On each repeated display, a sub-window displaying his recorded pheromone outputs and heartrate appeared.

"Today marks an event of great moment, a historic decision which will ensure lasting prosperity for the Lh'owon system and the Pfhor. Acting with the authority of the Provisional Government, Tfenn Zero-G Assemblies will presently begin construction of five out-system facilities which will form one third of a fortifed trade route spanning the cluster. Our partners in this venture are the Friedrik-Karghiest-McArthur Central Company of the Parliamentary Empire of New Crobuzon, and House Da'shu of the Falau'un Council. Per the terms of this agreement, armed craft and personnel from the Summed Forces have already been dispatched to secure the planned locations of each way-station."

- The words of the T'fenn had come true. The line was operational.

[Beowulf]

Crobuzon Space

A woman stepped off the shuttle, waiting to go to her final destination of Bas-Lag. Her identity papers listed her, for now at least, as being one Christina Ohlberg from another one of the planets in the Crobuzon empire. Reality was that she was actually from one of the planets in Collective Space. Orders from higher up had come. They were interested in exactly how rockmilk was produced, given that it was apparently raw mana. She had been selected for this mission due to her aptitude in magic, and previous training in the same. Or at least that was what her superiors had said. She knew the truth was that her name had been picked out of a hat.

Her mission was to go to Crobuzon Polygnostic and study the methods that the Crobuzon used to do magic. There were probably others from her organization that would be sent, though she knew not what they looked like nor what names they would be under. She had been inserted into the Crobuzon space by a covert shuttle operated by the Collective.

ooc: yay for industrial espionage!

[Beowulf]

Bas Lag

Joyeuse summoned a runner. "I wish to speak with someone from Ostward Expansions Ltd. Please setup an appointment with their leadership."

[Lancer]

Avalonian Senate Special Session 221-2055 Third Age:
"What do you make of this 'trade lane' the Falal'un have so recently promoted?"

"It merely widens our range of opportunities. Several of the trade-guilds have already established relations with other civilizations. The Hekartes in particular have facilitated a good deal of this on their stations."

"And House Da'shu? They have gained much already from their outpost at our borders, and from what we have been able to learn, the noble houses of the Falal'un are not as...circumspect...as the equivalent parties here typically would be."

"Their internal affairs are their own buisness."

"I concur. Their political structure appears to have been built around such instabilities."

"It is of concern, particularly when they are allied with two other civilizations of which we know nothing about."

"What do you propose?"

"Nothing more than what we have already done. Grant the trade-guilds explorator-charters. They would appear as members of yet another splinter civilization of the lowborn."

[Thirdfain]

Crobuzon Enclave
The Lesser Library


Breath slowing, heartrate shifting frantically...

Blood thinning, going green with powerful alchemistry....

Eyes shooting open, staring gaping, mouth drooling...

Voice grasping, searching, scrambling frantically for screams which won't come...

Terror erupting, and then ebbing, dying, with horrific certainty...

Grey, cold, fingers, clammy and so, so, strong, closing with growing certainty around a quivering, numbing limb...


Nothing.


And then, Brilliance.



Socialism. The word spawned hatred in the heart of any loyal, pure-blooded Crobuzoner. However, the Parliamentary Empire was no monoculture. Those of Crobuzon ethnicitiy, those who had been born speaking Ragamoll, were hardlyt the majority- and of those teeming billions who did share the culture and ancestry of the ancient city-state, most were labourers and members of the vast industrial working poor.

The bohemian ideal had never died, as tight as the iron fist of the Militia grew. There were strikes, riots, even full-scale uprisings.

None had succeeded.

Never the less, the concepts had failed to die out. The syndicalists, the anarchists, the communists- the Runagate Rampant trumpeted their anti-government vitriol from secret printing-presses.

With the new construction and the Joint Extraction Corporations in the Silver Flame, had come rapid changes. The Crobuzoner goods were cheap- subsidized heavily and produced under labour conditions which the social-minded quelectin would never have accepted. However, they were good, and plentiful, and cheaper than local-made.

The Clans had made changes. Most resisted, but some, like Military Historic, had embraced the new economy. There had been talk- increasingly divisive- of cutting the Beneficium Aevum. Said some of the Clan leaders, it was the only way. The old ways could not compete outside of the closed system that the Silver Flame had been. The vast might of Crobuzon, it's wonders and it's clear military superiority, had lead some to question their own way of life.

And there was reaction.

In the ranks of the Navy, officers spoke quietly in dark rooms. How far would the government go, kowtowing to these strangers with their odd ways? Was the High Speaker strong enough to resist the increasing pressure from some of the most influential Clans?

The workers spoke too. The job market was changing rapidly, and in frightening ways. Vast swathes of landscape had been turned into rockmilk extraction, displacing workers in great numbers. The Clans had put the landless farmers to work, offering them jobs in the new refineries, but it was a far cry from their previous existence. Many dropped out, moving to the Beneficium Aevum as a source of livelyhood.

Brief resistance in the Council had been quashed. Speakers from Biologys, Military Historic, and others spoke with surprising conviction as to the necessity of their actions. Some Speakers, virulently opposed, would turn their votes suddenly and unexpectedly, shifting camps out of the blue.

And then, the organizers appeared. Quelectin with quick eyes and clever mouths, speaking new ideas- Ideas of communal responsibility, and the power of the workers. Most ignored it. Some listened only because the fiery young men and women condemned the "Imperialist Cultural Occupation."

Word spread. It never reached the ears of the Crobuzoners in their Enclaves, however. Inside those iron stains, work hummed along as normal.

More ships arrived every day.

[Adrian Laguna]

<< Mekidar station, I'd recommend you amend your tone. This is a peaceful trading mission. Surely, such inflammatory speech is not necessary? Moreover, this absurd ban on the approach of my vessels simply won't do. What are we going to do, blast you into the void un-provoked? We simply can't transport all of our goods in the pinnaces alone. Surely it can be arranged for you to allow the Ghalchrist to dock. In fact, I'd like to invite the commanding officer of your 8th to dine on-board tonight. We must be getting along our itinterary shortly, but I would be most pleased if our short stay is productive, rather than destructive.>>

<<*chuckle* I was just kidding around.>> The Crobuzonian officers probably got the distinct impression that she was really pushing buttons to see what would happen. Something that, if true, would put into question the sanity of whoever put her in charge.

<<Ghalchrist and another one of your large vessels can dock. Have them approach the station and we will send nav-bouys to guide them in. However, I must insist that you keep your distance from your naval base. Old regulations, in fact older than some archeological artifacts, I hope you understand.>> She hadn't lost her good humour, but the irritating and joking tone was replaced by a more appropiate business-like manner.

<<Dinner with Admiral Pakhomii, the 8th Fleet's CO, might be a bit complicated. There is a chance he left his digestive system at home. We'll see if something can be... Hold on a sec.>> A few seconds of silence pass. <<As I was saying we'll see if something can be arranged. Sorry for the interruption, but I think you will be glad to know that a couple of corporate transports and a few independent freighters just diverted to here. They will be arriving some time after our fleet.>>



Various Guild Worlds throughout "Benefactor" space

The agents slipped in through various methods. They went unnoticed, other annonymous faces in an endless sea of sentients. Each new just enough to accomplish their mission, but not enough for their operation to be compromised. A few became sleepers, they would lie in wait for months, years if necessary, until the signal came. Others were mere observers, frequenting spots were people tend to talk, nothing more. Many, though, were on a very specific mission.

The typical corporation protects its information from both criminals and corporate espionage. However, the resources available to a private institution pale in comparison to those available to an entire nation and the agents of said nation. It really wasn't that hard, the agents were trained to infiltrate militaries and governments. Stealing information from interstellar shipping companies, both big and small, was hardly a challenging task. Indeed, most figured it was a harmless sort of feild training.

They were only half-right, since there was nothing harmless about it.

[Stormin]

Hull 16 waited until the Mekidar were done talking and sent a short communication on a sub-channel to the human warvessel. "Due to differing communications technologies there is a difficulty with signal bandwidth being rather limited. In order to give full information on all trade products, as well as unrestricted information on navigation data for every object and ship in the system, I can construct a full communications hardware and software package for your study and use."

[Spyder]

Various Guild Worlds throughout "Benefactor" space

The agents slipped in through various methods. They went unnoticed, other annonymous faces in an endless sea of sentients. Each new just enough to accomplish their mission, but not enough for their operation to be compromised. A few became sleepers, they would lie in wait for months, years if necessary, until the signal came. Others were mere observers, frequenting spots were people tend to talk, nothing more. Many, though, were on a very specific mission.

The typical corporation protects its information from both criminals and corporate espionage. However, the resources available to a private institution pale in comparison to those available to an entire nation and the agents of said nation. It really wasn't that hard, the agents were trained to infiltrate militaries and governments. Stealing information from interstellar shipping companies, both big and small, was hardly a challenging task. Indeed, most figured it was a harmless sort of feild training.

They were only half-right, since there was nothing harmless about it.

With the myriad groups and organisations operating among the Guild Worlds, espionage wasn't unheard of. Neither were methods of dealing with it. Some corporations, ones not truely prepared for operations within the territory were the easiest targets, the smarter ones however would not only be prepared but would have friends in high places.

The counter intelligence people had been in business within this sector for years, it wasn't hard to figure out that someone else had joined the game.

[Beowulf]

"No one comes close."

Tired of hiring mercenaries for ship security, and wondering where their
true loyalties lay? Don't have room on your ship to berth and supply a
normal security team? Have something you need kept secret, and don't
want to worry about your security giving it away?

Collective Security Services is coming soon, to a star port near you.
Utilizing the latest in mobile doll technology, and backed up with a
guarantee from the Collective. Can be hired in units ranging from a
single droid, up to a entire company of infantry.

Collective Security Services is a wholly owned subsidiary of Collective
Light Industries, LLC. Incorporated on Suigin Tou.

[Adrian Laguna]

Guild Embassy, Meklon, Mekidar Republic

The Guild Ambassador took the data-slate and thanked the Mekidar.

"One more thing," said the representative. "We are making inquiries. There are a number of expatriates living in the Republic. They keep to themselves, and we don't start asking questions until they stop paying taxes. The inquiries will have to be done very slowly and very carefully. We'll let you know if we find anything. Also, the Republic sent a delegation to Crobuzon, we will also keep you updated on that."

The Negotiations being concluded, the two parties left the conference room.



Sky Haven, a minor sytem in the Mekidar Republic
The sytem and the worlds in it had older names. However, the Mekidar had abandoned it, and they didn't mind if newcomers brought along new names. The current residents were invariably expatriates from other nations. Some came by choice, others because they had no choice. Large portions were criminals of various kinds. The Mekidar authorities had made it very clear that they had better be retired criminals. As the representative had told the Guild Ambassador, the Republic refrained from asking questions so long as they behaved.

Somewhere in the system, a meaning of potentially great importance was taking place.

"How's it been going Roger?"

A meter-tall, hairy, thing, resembling a small biped grisly bear, turned around in the stool he was sitting on.

"If it isn't me old pal Secret Government Agent! How ya doing lass?"

A non-descript human stood near the tavern's entrance, she smiled and approached Roger, taking a seat next to him.

"I thought I told you that my name is Stacey."

"Oh yeh, shur, shur. What brings ye to me neck of the woods?"

"It's not like your name is more real." She paused, "I have a job for you."

Roger's voice dropped, "The Mekidar Republic has a job fer Roger 'Machete' Scabb?" He chuckled, "I'm retired, why don't ye go ask someone else."

Stacey handed Roger a data-slate. "That is how much we'd be paying you, it does not include the money that goes to your associates."

He didn't look at it. "Ye think I would work fer money? Ye could give me enough money to buy meself a city, and I'd still live in this here shit-hole. Talk about de job, then I'll tell ye if I want it."

The agent's smile grew wider. "Why don't we talk about this in my vehicle?"

"Oh-kay, whatever ye want." He emptied his drink in one gulp, and yelled to the bartender. "I'll pay ye later! The lass here likes them short and furry."

They got inside a plain-looking, but electronically protected, vehicle.

"So what's this job ye was jabbering about?"

"We want you to use your unique skills to hit a set of pre-determined targets."

"Why, I reckoned ye wanted me to win a spittin' contest for ye," Roger responds with sarcastic surprise.

"You will be given two ships, we took the liberty of installing some of your favorite toys, including that 'machete' contraption. The choice of crew is yours, but we have made some suggestions. There will be pay for the crew, and you may keep any loot that comes into your hands. I suggest that all your picks are trustworthy, we might not be able to garantee your liberty or safety if any of them aren't."

She points to the data-slate, "It's all in there."

"You will travel out of Republic space under false identities, along with any crew that you recruit here. Your base of operations, and the place where you will recieve your ship, is a pirate enclave. There will be a contact there who will tell you were and when to hit the targets. Don't look around, the contact will find you.

After you are done, you may keep the ships and any loot stolen. My recommendation is that you get rid of everything. The contact might have a suggestion of some safe places to dispose of the items that could be to your monetary advantage. Once that is taken care-of, lie low in the enclave, it should be safe enough."

The pirate looked at the slate for a few moments. "What if I wanted some of me crew 'silenced', permanent-like?"

"That could perhaps be arranged, but it would come out of your paycheck."

"I see...
The ships are not bad, but I'd like to make a change or two."

"That can also be arranted, but you don't have to cover the cost. Do you accept the job, or are there any other concerns you want addressed?"

"Aye, I accept the job."

"Very well then. I'll contact you in a week or two. Be ready to list what you want done with the ships, and who you are taking with you to the enclave."

Roger nodded and got out of the car. Before closing the door he leaned on it and looked at Stacey straight in the eye. "Oh, one more thing lassie. When the mere mention of yer name makes men's blood run cold, then ye can talk to me about what's real and what's not."

He closed the door, and the car slowly drove-off.

[Thirdfain]

Fallengate District
New Crobuzon
Bas-Lag

Joyeuse watched the ground fall away beneath her as the elevator hurtled skywards.

Two Cactacae guards stood in the ornate conveyance with her. Both looked uncomfortable in their waistcoats and tails- they'd had all their spines shaved except for short, spiky crests hugging the vegetable skin on their scalps.

The fourth occupant was a weedy little man, head shiny where his bowler-hat had sat just a moment before.

The view was spectacular. The western face of Runaway Towers was glass and iron, one hundred stories straight up and twice that underground. Rows of grand skyscrapers made artificial canyons, but as the elevator reached their crests, only the spires of Perdido Steet Station remained prominant, cpmmanding the skyline, much as the nation it represented dominated local Cluster politics. A deep shadow fell, cutting out the dull orange burn of the sun.

"Ah," Said the mousy majordomo as he wiped sweat from his forehead with a paisley handkerchief. "It appears your opposite number has arrived, and just in time at that, haha." He spoke the pathetic little laugh, as if apologizing.

The monstrous bulk of a luxurious airship had tethered itself to the apex of the OEL building. ReMade stevedores with winches where their arms should be laboured, spurting steam and dripping oil from artifical support-frames as they reeled in the immense guidewires.

Joyeuse showed no awe at the sight. She entered the cavernous office at the building's top as if it was the basest hovel. A thousand elyctric candles lit the room from the grand chandelier above.

A slender man with skin of a strange, greyish hue rose from his marvelous chair behind his expansive desk. His hair was perfectly kept, and his clothing was of the finest cut and material.

"Madame Joyeuse, on behalf of Ostward Expansions, LTD: Welcome to Runaway Towers!" A deeply upholstered chair of the finest Teshite satin seemed to materialize beneath Joyeuse, along with a small silver table decorated with tiny delicacies.

"My name is Sarbindach Dupont. How can I help you?"

[Beowulf]

Fallengate District
New Crobuzon
Bas-Lag

"This Avatar has been instructed to finalize details on your planned rockmilk extraction facility. Specifically, the joint ownership, and transfer of the technological details of doing the extraction, along with ecological impact on the surrounding fiefdoms."

[Thirdfain]

"As I was to understand it, Madam Joyeuse, your protected states are independent. We intended on opening negotiations with those states, rather than the Collective government proper- less potential accumulates on undeveloped worlds, we've found. Unless you have pressing reasons for us to change our plans...?"

[consequences]

Khar Imperium Outskirts,
Deep Space


The small pirate flotilla, lead by the cruiser Koom Valley, slowly worked its way clear of the Khar Imperium. The lack of speed was not by choice, but because of the necessity of dragging clear the loot, as well as the adverse effect that modifying the engines for anonymity had had upon performance.

The first clue that something was wrong was that an Interdictor pulled the group out of ftl. The first sign that the plan was truly in the toilet was the sensor readings showing a Khar cruiser and four escorts positioned squarely in the flotilla's intial path. That it was brown trouser time became immediately clear, as four more pairs of vessels appeared, positioned to intercept if the raiders attempted to evade.

"Foreign Hostiles of the Khar Imperium! You are in direct violation of the sovereignty of the temporal realms of the Khar Imperium and have vandalized and damaged Clan Ilosytch property. This is unacceptable. In the name of the Most Holy And Beneficient Emperor you are required to stand down and await your penalty of execution. If you do not comply you will burn."


On the bridge of Koom Valley, Captain Anders suppressed a sigh before snapping: "Situation?"

"Well, if it weren't for the aftermarket downgrades, we'd just be in trouble. As it is, we're completely kriffed. Approximately a +40% adverse force correlation."

"Cut loose the booty, and cut 60 degrees to port." As the captain spoke, the tractor locks on the various captured hulls were released, and they continued along their original vector, as a few shuttles frantically detached and docked with their mother ships, even as they rapidly changed direction and their engines went to full burn. Meanwhile, a directional shielded transmission went back along the path the raiders had followed. Decrypted, it read simply 'Now'.

A game of cat and mouse began, with the identity of the cat shifting every couple of minutes as the groups manuevered against each other. For both sides, this was a textbook exercise, the pirates attempting to break free or concentrate their force against a portion of the blockaders, the blockader attempting to bring the pirates to decisive action with their entire force. Of course, unlike a textbook exercise there were outside complications. The most obvious of these was the pirate's inability to manuever to their full potential, making the eventual outcome an essentially foregone conclusion. As the Khar cruiser would be left behind, the closer blocking escort pairs brought their own limited interdictors to bear, allowing the larger vessel to hop in closer. This would start off a new round of frantic evasions by the pirates.

Finally, the pirate flotilla decided to force the issue, changing to course to charge at the nearest escort pair, while Koom Valley brought up its own interdictors to prevent the remaining Khar ships from closing the range. As the group closed through missile range unopposed, ranging shots began to arrive from the Khar groups rapidly coming closer as the corsairs bore down on their targets.

A spider's web of energy beams reached out for the thirteen marauders, as they randomly altered their vectors in frantic efforts to evade. Nuisance was the first to die, caught by a lucky long range salvo from the Khar cruiser. Flea was next, bracketed by fire from three different sources as the dwindling group closed to effective energy range, and the terse message "Big in thirty, small ten after" flashed through the raider's command net. In rapid succession, Itch, Bugbite, and Buzz burst into quickly dying flame, victims of the targetting data fed to the surrounding groups by the two vessels about to be overrun, while the larger ships took repeated hits against their shields.

Finally, the eight remaining ships guns spoke, lashing out in unison against the Khar destroyer, rendering it into scattering wreckage in moments. The second onslaught came ten seconds later, even as Flyslayer and +5 vs Insects took crippling blows, eliminating the Khar frigate. As the dwindling group blazed past, Birdfood, until now leading a charmed, untouched life, was immolated by the combined fire of the entire Khar group.

In total, in just the first few minutes of combat, Six Flea-class Pieces of Shit were destroyed by the Khar at the cost of just one Destroyer and its Frigate escort. And this didn't even take into account the attritional damage to the rest of the pirate force. Things looked extremely bleak for the disguised Raveners, as the Khar moved in for the kill, ever so slowly.

______________________________________________________________________

On board the Koom Valley

The fleet was just pulling itself into order, preparing to abandon its cripples, even as it snatched up the few life pods from its lost vessels, when a massive shudder was felt throughout the frame of Koom Valley, and it fell out of formation.

"Engineering, what the hell was that" Captain Anders shouted into his comm.

"That was the node finally going, and the power surge blowing the aft stabiliser off of the fucking ship sir! We're practically dead in space here."

Simultaneously, a transmission came through from the Flyslayer "Andy, get everyone out, we'll buy you the time."

"I'd love to Bill, but we're down to half your accel here. That's half your current accel before you say anything."

"Oh well, life happens. Care to join us in a pointless effort, you overbearing dickweed?"

"Couldn't be happier, you jumped up little ass-kisser. Comms, general broadcast to group; 'All ships make best speed and get clear. W`e'll hold them off'."

Immediately, a flood of responses came back, starting with the Jackal "Can't*Brrrkkksssttt* last trans *krrzzzttt* Will match vector until you effect repairs". The general impression of tranmission distortion would have been far more convincing, if the transmission didn't include a full video feed, which clearly showed the sender rubbing a snack food wrapper on the microphone. The remainder of the responses ranged from the absurd to the outright insubordinate, but not a single one was a verification of Anders' orders.

Meanwhile back along the ballistic track that the pirates' released swag described, well away from the interdictor fields, three freighters powered up and translated to ftl.
___________________________________________
Losses to date:

Random pirates with no connection to the Raveners, nosirree:
Destroyed: 6 Gnat class small escorts
Crippled: 2 Flyswatter class escorts
Mobility crippled: 1 Ambusher class cruiser

The Glorious and Inevitably Victorious Khar Imperium:
1 Luf Qar'Nedjev-class Point Defense Frigate, the Nayazilak, whose martyrdom shall never be forgotten.
1 Syshtar Nysh-Yelymi-class Patrol Destroyer, the Dratsabiz Al'Yafisur, whose vengeance shall transcend death to strike back at its vile murderers.

[Thirdfain]

Fort Desdemonia
Sud Tempost March
Parliamentary Empire of Crobuzon

Crobuzon was an Empire in every sense of the word. The ruling ethnicity shared power with others, but at it's base, it was the dominion of the humans and xenians of the ancient City-State Republic of New Crobuzon over those from other nations, those who had followed other kings. The Imperial government tied semi-autonomous client states to it like slaves on a chain-gang, former kings, queens, and empresses replaced with ceremonial titles and empty thrones. The indignity, hidden as nationalist pride, was displayed in the nomenclature of the Empire's most powerful class of warships: Once upon a time, there had been a Sovereign of Rohag, and an Autarch in Vadaunk. Now, those once-proud territories were mere provincial districts- voting districts, with representation in the parliament, but only the attenuated vestiges of independence. It was a strong warning as well.

Less than half the population of the Empire even spoke Ragamoll as a first language.

The fissures and differences were still there, kept down by the illusions provided by the suffrage lotteries and the pervasive and amoral might of the Militia, whose faceless enforcers and countless spies and informers granted it a bogeyman air and reputation of omniscience.

In Sud Tempost March, however, many of those difficulties were muted. All the stars of the March had been settled out of the core territories of the Empire, populated before the end of the Frigid War and the annexation of Tesh with loyal, ragamoll-speaking Crobuzoners and Cobseamen and Tarmuthers. Strong young farm-boys from the vast Grain Spiral that encompassed the western edge of the continent of Rohag, where New Crobuzon sat at the junction of the Tar and Canker rivers, had flooded the colony ships, backed by fat corporate loans and the promise of protection of the growing Imperial navy. As the Frigid War had dragged on, the region had prospered slowly but surely. Unlike Gross Crobuzona, which at the time was split between Teshite and Crobuzoner worlds, and the poorer Kergudter March, Sud Tempost had been a bulwark and safe haven, from which the industrial might of the Empire had grown, to the point were it would overtake and overwhelm it's rival without open warfare ever erupting.

In recent days, the focus of the media and the international eye had been to the north and the southwest, as Kergudter Packages LTD. finished the TRans-Sphere Line, and as the Iron Fleet moved to secure quelectin markets for Crobuzoner goods.

In Sud Tempost, the corporate machine that was Bartleby, Sons, and Associates had been working quietly. The vast conglomorate included half of the ruling Fat Sun Party leadership in it's board of directors, including Mayor van der Grimnebulin.

It had been extending it's tendrils further and further antispinward, it's fleet of modern aetherclippers and barques establishing small trading-posts and peaceful contact with locals.

Word had spread, rumour and myth of the reavers- corsairs without respect for life or civilization, who burned cities and killed men for the sheer joy of combat. There were burned planets, settlements raped and pillaged.

In cool, luxurious boardrooms on Desdemonia and Bas-Lag, orders were passed and rulings made. The Sud Tempost March needed Imperial support for it's next big projects. Bartleby, Sons, and Associates called in it's favours. Three entire Battle Squadrons, along with cruisers and a group of old pre-dreadnoughts, were to be deployed to Fort Desdemonia. There was chaos to the south, and where there was chaos, there was opportunity.

Cruiser scouts burned towards the lands ruled by the Ravagers. Their findings would determine the Empire's next step in the region.

FORCES DEPLOYED:

2. Battlecruiser Squadron

[Duckie]

Al'Reuks/Eq'Talfith
Monau'Ra
The Khar Imperium

It was the Ceremony Of The Broken Worlds.

The square itself was crowded. In other cases it would have fit cities inside of it, even fiefdoms. Now, to even stand straight up was to brush against the other masses. Aristocrats, Commoners, any but the underclasses had gathered here today. For now, all were equal- at least in stationing. There was no fear. This day, oppressed and oppressor had greater things.

A single voice cried over the roar of many millions of conversations, subduing it with sheer presence (and electronic aid).

"Al'Yeds Yarizuna!"

A billion voices cried as one.

"Al'Khar Lashut!"

The sheer noise, the cacophony of that many people shouting at slightly different times in an area huge enough to make the speed of sound matter, made the cry unrecognizable. But all of them knew it by heart.

The High Priest stepped out. His robes were as usual resplendant, black enough to suck in the sun of the dawn and leave nothing, ornamented in internally lit 'gold' and other 'metals' that shone with the internal fire and rage of the Khar people.

The Priest had eschewed his large, ornamented head-dress, preferring mobility and comfort upon his balcony this day. After all, even with anti-gravity, it was heavy. The Priest dropped his hood from his face, raised his four limbs and the staff of his office to the sky. His powerful voice, artificially asisted by artfully concealed speakers laced in the square and electronic enhancement, felt almost as loud as the worshippers themselves.

"Yura Al'Nesoscher!"

This time the shouts were patchy, subdued. Millions were weeping, unable to speak. Only the truly devoted would make a pilgemmidge.

"Yura Al'Khar, Al'Naf Muyag!"

The Priest slammed his staff upon the floor of the balcony, and was engulfed in an aura of righteous fire, curtosy of the technological wonder of holography.

The ceremony continued.

It was the Ceremony of Broken Worlds.

Every seven years, the Khar upon the traditional date of the ascension of the First Empress would come to renew their Covenant with the Gods. They would pledge to conquer the universe, so that it may know the light of divinity. Nothing would stand in their way. If it did it would burn.

[Thirdfain]

-Placeholder-

[Adrian Laguna]

Mekidar and Crobuzon

The Mekidar Republic and Parliamentary Empire of Crobuzon concluded negotiations. Embassies were established in each nation's capital. Swarms of transports, freighters, and other merchant vessels began to cross the interstellar distance separating the two nations. They transported cheap mass manufactured goods, luxury items worth fortunes, heavy industrial machinery and materials, simple toys for amusing children, pharmaceuticals, even weapons if the smugglers managed to dodge customs inspections.

The Mekidar had attempted to gain a foothold in the Silver Flame markets, but the attempt was shot-down by Crobuzon. No trade agreements could be made with the Quelectin, all trade would have to be conducted through the existing (and restrictive) tariff and trade laws until such a time as their legislature changed them. Alternatively, Mekidar goods could be sold to Salácus Street Northwest Company for distribution to the Quelectin.

Meanwhile, the Crobuzonian delegation took the opportunity to advertise the new Trans-Cluster Line on behalf of the Mayor. They also asked the Mekidar if they had any geologicaly active planets with fertile lands, preferably near fault lines, that could be used for Rockmilk extraction. They were dissapointed to find that the Republic is short on fertile land and shorter on fertile land that could be sold for industrial development. Their planets still hadn't quite recovered from having the shit blasted out of them during the Great Wars.

Attempts at getting extradition or Mekidar punishment for citizens of the Republic found guilty of breaking Crobuzon's laws also failed. The Ambassadors from the Republic made no effort to hide their distate at the practice of remaking, but they also did not push the issue as hard as they did trade with the Silver Flame.

On the other hand, the Mekidar were glad to find that Crobuzon imposed restriction on few items. Primarily weaponry, and certain drugs/pharmaceuticals. Smugglers in the Republic would later find that certain elements in Crobuzon society were, in certain ways, above the law. Getting around pesky tariffs and trade laws was sometimes simply a matter of selling the merchandise inside the Republic, or in an empty star system, and allowing those elements to bring them into the Empire. Of course, profit is less than when one sells directly to the black market, so someone would always be willing to match wits with customs.

[Edit 7/8 - Added new third paragraph]


Spider's Web, pirate enclave controlled by the Republic

Roger looked at his ships. Two heavily modified freighters, designed to drag a merchant ship out of FTL, destroy its defenses, then pillage its cargo. They both had a "machete". Essentially a boarding clamp which would forcefully deploy through the victim's armour, and even shields. The machete also had electronic subersion and disabling systems to deal with automated security and the like. Scabb had developed the idea himself, making it a reality had been a real team effort with the specialists in his crew many years ago.

He'd been given a list of targets by someone. He didn't know or even seen who it was, but the annonymous voice in the crowded bar correctly responded to the coded inquiry. The document simply appeared on his table a few seconds later. The list showed the route that each target, one or more merchant vessels, would take. They were all unescorted, and they had nothing in common, even direction of travel. Nothing but one thing, that is, none of them were Mekidar merchants.

The document was more than a list. It had the locations of other pirate bases were he could sell the stolen goods, as well as repair and ressuply. He got the impression that they wanted him to avoid the Web if he could. Interestingly enough, it also had a request to minimize casualties during the raids if at all possible.

"Cap'n, ships and crew are ready t'go."

Roger looked-up to the towering figure. Despite the height difference, his first mate had an air of deference.

"Let's git going then."

Captain Scabb's two vessels set out into the void. They were two of a small group of pirate ships guided by the shadowy hand of the Republic. These pirates had been given data on the routes taken by merchant vessels headed to and from the Republic. The targets really had only one thing in common, they were traders from the massive interconnected network of local governments and organizations which the Mekidar knew as The Guilds.

The data had been collected most carefully. Mekidar agents infiltrated the computer systems and databases of various corporations, and even some indipendent traders. To hide their intentions, should the data theft be discovered, the agents dowloaded huge amounts of data. The whole operation suggested interest in what kinds of goods were being shipped and where, not the routes taking to get to the destination. Indeed, some agents did not download shipping routes at all.

Increasing traffic between the Republic and the Guilds had already attracted pirates. The attacks by Scabb and his ilk were inteded to give the route a reputation for vulnerability among other pirates. Once they started to take-up the slack, the Mekidar's bucaneers would withdraw.

Citizens of the Mekidar Republic would undoubtedly suffer from the increased pirate activity. Most unfortunte, but it couldn't be helped.

Force Deployment:
[4] Privateers

[Spyder]

Spider's Web, pirate enclave controlled by the Republic

Roger looked at his ships. Two heavily modified freighters, designed to drag a merchant ship out of FTL, destroy its defenses, then pillage its cargo. They both had a "machete". Essentially a boarding clamp which would forcefully deploy through the victim's armour, and even shields. The machete also had electronic subersion and disabling systems to deal with automated security and the like. Scabb had developed the idea himself, making it a reality had been a real team effort with the specialists in his crew many years ago.

He'd been given a list of targets by someone. He didn't know or even seen who it was, but the annonymous voice in the crowded bar correctly responded to the coded inquiry. The document simply appeared on his table a few seconds later. The list showed the route that each target, one or more merchant vessels, would take. They were all unescorted, and they had nothing in common, even direction of travel. Nothing but one thing, that is, none of them were Mekidar merchants.

The document was more than a list. It had the locations of other pirate bases were he could sell the stolen goods, as well as repair and ressuply. He got the impression that they wanted him to avoid the Web if he could. Interestingly enough, it also had a request to minimize casualties during the raids if at all possible.

"Cap'n, ships and crew are ready t'go."

Roger looked-up to the towering figure. Despite the height difference, his first mate had an air of deference.

"Let's git going then."

Captain Scabb's two vessels set out into the void. They were two of a small group of pirate ships guided by the shadowy hand of the Republic. These pirates had been given data on the routes taken by merchant vessels headed to and from the Republic. The targets really had only one thing in common, they were traders from the massive interconnected network of local governments and organizations which the Mekidar knew as The Guilds.

The data had been collected most carefully. Mekidar agents infiltrated the computer systems and databases of various corporations, and even some indipendent traders. To hide their intentions, should the data theft be discovered, the agents dowloaded huge amounts of data. The whole operation suggested interest in what kinds of goods were being shipped and where, not the routes taking to get to the destination. Indeed, some agents did not download shipping routes at all.

Increasing traffic between the Republic and the Guilds had already attracted pirates. The attacks by Scabb and his ilk were inteded to give the route a reputation for vulnerability among other pirates. Once they started to take-up the slack, the Mekidar's bucaneers would withdraw.

Citizens of the Mekidar Republic would undoubtedly suffer from the increased pirate activity. Most unfortunte, but it couldn't be helped.

Force Deployment:
[4] Privateers

"This is Concord Central Intelligence, we require access to your systems and everything that was taken. I mean everything, even if it seems irrelevant."

The Intelligence division followed it's investigation by the numbers. It would chart the location and details of each pirate attack and maintain a record of the data theft looking for patterns. It wasn't long before the connection between the two was made. The spies had done a good job covering their tracks, with the amount of industrial espionage going on between the different corps, they managed to get away clean. There was however one little fact, scrawled on a piece of paper, and introduced into the case file: These problems were non existant before Mekidar traders were given the green light.

Meanwhile, a frieghter with it's precious cargo made its way along the normally quiet trade route, at least it would be quiet if it wasn't for the fact that his route was one of the ones targetted.

Force Declaration:

In area:
[non combat] Bulk Freighter (Crew: 4)

Reinforcements within Jump Range:
[10 + Fighters] CAC Ganymede (Patrolling nearby star system, is monitoring freighter transponders)

Non-Space:

CCI Is now conducting counter intelligence operations.