==Edge of Union Space==
==H.N.S. New London==
==Main Task Force Body==
The commander of the Humanist Union reconissance task force, Vice Admiral Roland Ferguson, had been somewhat bored until the 150-class tactical cruiser among his forces, the Tundra sent an urgent message to his ship. While Ferguson recognized the necessity of patrols-in-force of the lawless space near the Humanist Union's edge, he privately regarded the job as among his most tedious; it was with some embarassment that he looked back fondly on times when the Traditionalist remnant had been more active, when a commander could expect to flush out a hardened enemy commander rather than a scared insurgent hauler. Certainly, though, he was glad that something had actually been found today: hunting for ships in the wilds of space rarely bore fruit even when enemies were plentiful.
It was, then, understandable that the Vice Admiral felt a thrill pass through his heavily-enhanced body as he read the report sent to him by the Tundra: a ship or ships had quite suddenly appeared on the vessel's advanced long-range scanners. These mysterious contacts seemed to be headed for the Radiant Dawn and Sentinel's kill site, or else they were headed for the main task force directly: Ferguson was betting on the former. In either case, the 150-class was unable to determine the makeup of the contacts: class, number, or even nationality. This was, at best, a simple sensors difficulty. At worst, it represented a force of ships able to actually confound sensors equipment: warships.
A trap, he mused, and an intelligent one: use a juicy insurgent freighter for bait, then swoop in for an attack. We can thank luck we haven't jumped on yet, otherwise we might not have even known they were there.
Even as he thought this, the Vice Admiral communicated with his comms officer, who sent out two heavily-encrypted signals: one back into Humanist Union space informing them of a potential encounter with foreign or domestic warships following the seizing of a insurgent freighter, and another to Captain Kyznetsov, informing him of the company he had on the way.
Let's hope these mysterious new contacts don't have any other surprises waiting, the Vice Admiral thought grimly as he commanded his task force to perform the short jump to the Radiant Dawn's location.
==Edge of Union Space==
==H.N.S. Radiant Dawn==
==Encounter Site==
Kyznetsov, still speaking with the interrogation officer and marine commander, received his own commander's message with similar surprise and excitement. Terrorizing insurgent scum is one thing, he thought, actual combat is quite another.
Kyznetsov dismissed both of the men he was speaking to with a curt wave and addressed his bridge crew in clipped machine-speak: now was no time to relish the sound of human words. "Reroute power from non-essential systems to the shield rechargers and order the Sentinel to get its guns warmed and do the same," he said. As his comms and engineering officers obeyed, he personally contacted the skeleton crew aboard the badly-damaged, captured enemy freighter, "Are your secondary power routing systems active?"
"Affirmative," the savant-commander replied immediately.
"Redline the reactor and warm the engines. You will not fire upon any enemy or unidentified ships. You will disengage all life support systems and artificial gravity. You will respond to no hails. Await further orders from myself or Admiral Ferguson."
"Affirmative," the savant-commander replied: beings like him, designed to interact quickly with captured vessels, weren't given to questioning officers of the Union, no matter how bizarre the orders.
OOC: Forces en route should arrive just after your own forces, Shinn: you've got the head-start, but my ships weren't far.
Forces Committed:
En Route
1 340-class: 22 (20 base, 2H)
2 255-class: 15 (13 base, 2O)
3 202-class: 10 (10 base)
1 150-class: 8 (4 base, 2C3, 2I)
7 121-class: 5 (4 base, 1D)
On-Site
1 202-class: 10 (10 base)
1 121-class: 5 (4 base, 1D)
Total
140 points
STGOD 2008 MAIN THREAD!
-
Thirdfain
- The Player of Games
- Posts: 6924
- Joined: 2003-02-13 09:24pm
- Location: Never underestimate the staggering drawing power of the Garden State.
Diplomatic Cutter "Lucas Akkerson"
Esperansic Peripheral Syndicates
Syndicalist International
The "Lucas Akkerson" accelerated towards the cacophony. Mostly engine, the small craft was large enough to carry a small cargo of diplomats and comm gear- little more. It's fatline broadcast towards the incoming mass of barbarian vessels.
"The Council of High Syndicates brings tidings for the ears of the Ruck Tsar. We request an audiance with your leader."
Esperansic Peripheral Syndicates
Syndicalist International
The "Lucas Akkerson" accelerated towards the cacophony. Mostly engine, the small craft was large enough to carry a small cargo of diplomats and comm gear- little more. It's fatline broadcast towards the incoming mass of barbarian vessels.
"The Council of High Syndicates brings tidings for the ears of the Ruck Tsar. We request an audiance with your leader."
Under capitalism, man exploits man. Under communism, it's just the opposite.
John Kenneth Galbraith (1908 - )
-
Academia Nut
- Sith Devotee
- Posts: 2598
- Joined: 2005-08-23 10:44pm
- Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Planet Aesir, Asgard System
Metallkonige Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
Amongst the various Kaldic peoples, there was a longstanding joke that the Konige word for "Tuesday" was based off the word for "revolution" because the words sounded somewhat the same. The truth was actually significantly more terrifying.
Despite their reputation as simple-minded brutes, they were actually often quite sophisticated and meticulous record keepers, preserving their sagas zealously. They also had a somewhat loose claim to being older than the Empire, although only in certain ways as the Empire definitely had them beat in terms of continuity of government. They were definitely one of two of the oldest language groups in this region of space, and had the records to prove it.
Thus if you looked you found that the Konige word for "revolution" originated from their word for "Tuesday", and there was actually some evidence that the other Kaldic languages may have inherited this etymology.
The knowledge of this had perhaps been the final catalyst for the transformation of The Almost Giant from a wild eyed revolutionary to a loyal member of the Konige. How could you fight something like that? The Konige were not barbarians, they were the ultimate evolution of humanity, the only truly free society in an oppressive galaxy. Every man, woman, and child was as free as they could grasp.
The Awesome had lifted the blinders from the Konige, had shown the truth of human nature. All things related to power, specifically who had it and who wanted it. No one was born powerless, you had to submit to reliquish power. It was why Konige society was so violent, every man who embraced the culture was a king in his own eyes. Oh, there were certainly lesser and greater kings, and those who were too stupid to bow to a superior power... for the moment... were crushed underfoot.
But they were free in a way that the Syndicalists could not understand. And they were smart too.
The Almost Giant had been born in the periphery of what was now Syndicalist space, and captured as a young man in a small raid, bringing with him the wild eyed revolutionary fever that had been sweeping the area at the time. He had endeavoured to establish his own revolution along with others, either brought over or born into discontent.
But in the brutal meritocracy of the Konige, you soon found yourself playing their game if you wanted to win, wanted to survive. Getting a gun and armour was easy, as was rounding up large numbers of people with guns and armour and marching.
But that was Tuesday to the Konige. Hell, if it was under a thousand, that was a bar fight. If you wanted to launch a revolution, you needed lots of people, and lots of guns. That took money and power and influence, because unlike back in the place where he was born, the people in charge of the big weapons were quite happy with the current order.
So as the years went by, there was always another concession to make, another slip closer into the system, until eventually the Giant discovered that he had become the thing he had once hated: a Rucker. And he had enjoyed it. As he had discovered in that musty library, when the dust settled and the Syndicalists found themselves without masters, they would find themselves Konige.
And now the Almost Giant found himself advising Ruck Tsar Magnus Korblson.
"What do you think their response will be?" Magnus asks his advisors, but he clearly wanted the Giant to give his thoughts first.
Mulling it over for a moment, the Giant says, "I have not been there for a long time, and because of circumstances in my wilder youth I proscribed to a somewhat different flavour of Syndicalism than the one mainline in the Internationale right now. However, reading the reports from Jaako, I believe that elements of the current leadership will probably attempt to make concillatory gestures."
"Fools," one of the Eisengraf spits out.
"Perhaps... or perhaps not. Our intelligence also shows that there were rumblings of wanting to launch an attack on the Moloch, their greatest ideological rivals in local space. Can they afford a war on two fronts?" Magnus points out.
"True. However... one must not misjudge them. They do not see things the way we do, do not think the way we do. They see the galaxy in terms of class and racial struggles, things meaningless to us. They rigidly define their thinking along such avenues. A weakness at times, but a strength at others, when they will stay firm when more fluid minds would break. If we couch our words in the terms they understand..." the Giant explains.
Nodding, Magnus says, "Yes... yes... most interesting. Grand Fleet Tsar Taavi is a cagey old bastard, and he was already well briefed. I trust him to act on the spot quickly, and we are not so far that communication will be so slow as to confuse the situation unnecessarily. What are the odds that they will ask us to join them?"
Considering, the Giant says, "High, although I highly doubt they would be as boorish and stupid as to try and bring us under their yoke. If we sell ourselves as the unfairly oppressed, pushed into the void by the cruelties of the Empire, an alliance might be forgeable."
Sneering, Jaako says, "An alliance against the Moloch perhaps? Divide and conquer my friends. First we split the carcass of the Moloch between us, then when our borders are closer to theirs, our supply train better establish, we strike."
Chuckling, the Giant says, "I can do you one better. However harmless our culture truly is, they will surely take offence to us once they get to know us, misguided fools. They will probably attack us first."
Chuckling along, Jaako says, "Oh, if necessary, they will attack us first."
Catching the intelligence master's drift, the assembled Tsar's all laugh along with him.
"Better yet, an alliance with the Syndicalists will serve to pacify the elements within our own territory sympathetic to their cause. While I doubt they can do any real, long term damage, a major uprising in the middle of a war could be... troublesome," Magnus says.
"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?" Jaako asks rhetorically.
"Quite. Perhaps we could also motivate those rabble rousing malcontents to actually take their guns and put them to good use, and start making their martyrs out in the territory of the Moloch. Oh such useful creatures foes are when they fight for you without realizing it," Magnus says.
---
The Megadeth
Just outside Syndicalist Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
The huge bank of noise was still present, but from it a coherent message was broadcast to the Lucas Akkerson.
"You may proceed."
Flying onward into the cloud, soon the diplomatic cutter is lost in the cacophony, only the stars and a single navigational beacon to guide them. Eventually the Megadeth appeared in of the oppressive gloom like a warship that plied the seas of Earth in long forgotten antiquity becoming visible through a thick fog bank.
The cutter shuddered as sensors swept over it, but finding nothing amiss, the ship declared, "You may dock or begin teleportation. Please declare which before hand. If you wish to teleport over but do not have your own methods to do so, we can offer you the services of our Valkyries."
Metallkonige Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
Amongst the various Kaldic peoples, there was a longstanding joke that the Konige word for "Tuesday" was based off the word for "revolution" because the words sounded somewhat the same. The truth was actually significantly more terrifying.
Despite their reputation as simple-minded brutes, they were actually often quite sophisticated and meticulous record keepers, preserving their sagas zealously. They also had a somewhat loose claim to being older than the Empire, although only in certain ways as the Empire definitely had them beat in terms of continuity of government. They were definitely one of two of the oldest language groups in this region of space, and had the records to prove it.
Thus if you looked you found that the Konige word for "revolution" originated from their word for "Tuesday", and there was actually some evidence that the other Kaldic languages may have inherited this etymology.
The knowledge of this had perhaps been the final catalyst for the transformation of The Almost Giant from a wild eyed revolutionary to a loyal member of the Konige. How could you fight something like that? The Konige were not barbarians, they were the ultimate evolution of humanity, the only truly free society in an oppressive galaxy. Every man, woman, and child was as free as they could grasp.
The Awesome had lifted the blinders from the Konige, had shown the truth of human nature. All things related to power, specifically who had it and who wanted it. No one was born powerless, you had to submit to reliquish power. It was why Konige society was so violent, every man who embraced the culture was a king in his own eyes. Oh, there were certainly lesser and greater kings, and those who were too stupid to bow to a superior power... for the moment... were crushed underfoot.
But they were free in a way that the Syndicalists could not understand. And they were smart too.
The Almost Giant had been born in the periphery of what was now Syndicalist space, and captured as a young man in a small raid, bringing with him the wild eyed revolutionary fever that had been sweeping the area at the time. He had endeavoured to establish his own revolution along with others, either brought over or born into discontent.
But in the brutal meritocracy of the Konige, you soon found yourself playing their game if you wanted to win, wanted to survive. Getting a gun and armour was easy, as was rounding up large numbers of people with guns and armour and marching.
But that was Tuesday to the Konige. Hell, if it was under a thousand, that was a bar fight. If you wanted to launch a revolution, you needed lots of people, and lots of guns. That took money and power and influence, because unlike back in the place where he was born, the people in charge of the big weapons were quite happy with the current order.
So as the years went by, there was always another concession to make, another slip closer into the system, until eventually the Giant discovered that he had become the thing he had once hated: a Rucker. And he had enjoyed it. As he had discovered in that musty library, when the dust settled and the Syndicalists found themselves without masters, they would find themselves Konige.
And now the Almost Giant found himself advising Ruck Tsar Magnus Korblson.
"What do you think their response will be?" Magnus asks his advisors, but he clearly wanted the Giant to give his thoughts first.
Mulling it over for a moment, the Giant says, "I have not been there for a long time, and because of circumstances in my wilder youth I proscribed to a somewhat different flavour of Syndicalism than the one mainline in the Internationale right now. However, reading the reports from Jaako, I believe that elements of the current leadership will probably attempt to make concillatory gestures."
"Fools," one of the Eisengraf spits out.
"Perhaps... or perhaps not. Our intelligence also shows that there were rumblings of wanting to launch an attack on the Moloch, their greatest ideological rivals in local space. Can they afford a war on two fronts?" Magnus points out.
"True. However... one must not misjudge them. They do not see things the way we do, do not think the way we do. They see the galaxy in terms of class and racial struggles, things meaningless to us. They rigidly define their thinking along such avenues. A weakness at times, but a strength at others, when they will stay firm when more fluid minds would break. If we couch our words in the terms they understand..." the Giant explains.
Nodding, Magnus says, "Yes... yes... most interesting. Grand Fleet Tsar Taavi is a cagey old bastard, and he was already well briefed. I trust him to act on the spot quickly, and we are not so far that communication will be so slow as to confuse the situation unnecessarily. What are the odds that they will ask us to join them?"
Considering, the Giant says, "High, although I highly doubt they would be as boorish and stupid as to try and bring us under their yoke. If we sell ourselves as the unfairly oppressed, pushed into the void by the cruelties of the Empire, an alliance might be forgeable."
Sneering, Jaako says, "An alliance against the Moloch perhaps? Divide and conquer my friends. First we split the carcass of the Moloch between us, then when our borders are closer to theirs, our supply train better establish, we strike."
Chuckling, the Giant says, "I can do you one better. However harmless our culture truly is, they will surely take offence to us once they get to know us, misguided fools. They will probably attack us first."
Chuckling along, Jaako says, "Oh, if necessary, they will attack us first."
Catching the intelligence master's drift, the assembled Tsar's all laugh along with him.
"Better yet, an alliance with the Syndicalists will serve to pacify the elements within our own territory sympathetic to their cause. While I doubt they can do any real, long term damage, a major uprising in the middle of a war could be... troublesome," Magnus says.
"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?" Jaako asks rhetorically.
"Quite. Perhaps we could also motivate those rabble rousing malcontents to actually take their guns and put them to good use, and start making their martyrs out in the territory of the Moloch. Oh such useful creatures foes are when they fight for you without realizing it," Magnus says.
---
The Megadeth
Just outside Syndicalist Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
The huge bank of noise was still present, but from it a coherent message was broadcast to the Lucas Akkerson.
"You may proceed."
Flying onward into the cloud, soon the diplomatic cutter is lost in the cacophony, only the stars and a single navigational beacon to guide them. Eventually the Megadeth appeared in of the oppressive gloom like a warship that plied the seas of Earth in long forgotten antiquity becoming visible through a thick fog bank.
The cutter shuddered as sensors swept over it, but finding nothing amiss, the ship declared, "You may dock or begin teleportation. Please declare which before hand. If you wish to teleport over but do not have your own methods to do so, we can offer you the services of our Valkyries."
I love learning. Teach me. I will listen.
You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
============= QUAROS ==============
A long way away, a small force of ships—intent on exploring something of great importance—made the mistake of plotting a course too close to Quaros. As they became less of a long way away, the forces at Quaros became aware of this error and made moves to correct it.
The dense and swirling clouds of gas and debris that make up the grim halo around the Quaros sector begin to stir and separate, like a cell dividing. If you had a small asteroid to sit upon, and an armchair, and it was an arbitrary distance away, you would be able to watch as the various billowing miasmas seem to accrete and then tug at each other. One tuft, itself more than a lightsecond across, tug off the cottonball that wraps around the system, and drags with it a fair share of the forces in the sector. It floats off, it’s lethal cargo of vessels, glimmering lanterns, ghostlights and debris, and pulls far enough away—at a long enough length of time—before winking out of existence and speeding off at an interdiction angle towards the tiny fleet.
1 Military Derelict (50) = 50
1 Interdiction Matrix (50) = 50
6 Xenotech Weapon Platforms (20) = 120
2 Xenotech Pickets (25) = 50
18 Debris Clusters (3) = 54
3 Unidentified Objects (2) = 6
A long way away, a small force of ships—intent on exploring something of great importance—made the mistake of plotting a course too close to Quaros. As they became less of a long way away, the forces at Quaros became aware of this error and made moves to correct it.
The dense and swirling clouds of gas and debris that make up the grim halo around the Quaros sector begin to stir and separate, like a cell dividing. If you had a small asteroid to sit upon, and an armchair, and it was an arbitrary distance away, you would be able to watch as the various billowing miasmas seem to accrete and then tug at each other. One tuft, itself more than a lightsecond across, tug off the cottonball that wraps around the system, and drags with it a fair share of the forces in the sector. It floats off, it’s lethal cargo of vessels, glimmering lanterns, ghostlights and debris, and pulls far enough away—at a long enough length of time—before winking out of existence and speeding off at an interdiction angle towards the tiny fleet.
1 Military Derelict (50) = 50
1 Interdiction Matrix (50) = 50
6 Xenotech Weapon Platforms (20) = 120
2 Xenotech Pickets (25) = 50
18 Debris Clusters (3) = 54
3 Unidentified Objects (2) = 6
-
Thirdfain
- The Player of Games
- Posts: 6924
- Joined: 2003-02-13 09:24pm
- Location: Never underestimate the staggering drawing power of the Garden State.
The Megadeth
Just outside Syndicalist Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
The shuttle was a nearly invisible mote, barely more than a few glinting running lights besides the vast, byzantine structure of The Megadeth. If the purpose of the envoy had been to give an impression of harmlessness, it could hardly have been more successful. Landing codes and docking pleasantries- such as the Konige employed- flitted across the overloaded comm bands like leaves in a storm.
Into the fortified gallery of the vast warship's hold strode a single figure. The heraldry and martial might of the Metallkonige seemed to swallow the immaculate little man. His neat suit and fussy glasses seemed completely out of place in the context of the brutal chaos which was Konig interior decorating.
He looked around for a second, as if he was a restaurant critic assessing an overhyped new establishment's modern decor. He brushed an imaginary particle of dust from his lapel. The armoured figures of the Konig towered over him like battleships beside a dinghy.
"I'm Andre Tell. Who's in charge around here?"
Under capitalism, man exploits man. Under communism, it's just the opposite.
John Kenneth Galbraith (1908 - )
-
Shinn Langley Soryu
- Jedi Council Member
- Posts: 1526
- Joined: 2006-08-18 11:27pm
- Location: COOBIE YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS
Haruhiist dreadnought Hare Hare Yukai
Edge of Humanist Union Space (Haruhiist rally point)
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
"Damn it, our scouts are running right into a trap," a sensor operator called out.
"What is it now?" Fleet Admiral Ito queried.
"We've managed to confirm the identity of those other contacts," the operator replied briskly. "There's a 121 class 'Wolf' accompanying the 202 and the Type 89."
Another sensor operator chimed in. "They're attached to a task force consisting of a 340 class 'Cheetah,' two 255 class 'Broadswords,' a 150 class 'Albatross,' three more 202s, and seven more 121s."
"Damn it!" Fleet Admiral Ito cried out as she slammed a fist on the armrest of her chair. "Dispatch six more Lees, two more Hiranos, and another KyoAni! I'll be advancing along with them! Order the rest of the fleet to hold position until further notice!"
As the rest of the fleet held in place, the Hare Hare Yukai and its entourage broke formation, redlining their hyperdrives in an attempt to catch up with the scout fleet. Fleet Admiral Ito hoped she could get to the kill site in time; however, her brief lapse in judgment could cost her several ships.
Haruhiist battleship Kyoto Animation
Edge of Humanist Union Space (Radiant Dawn kill site)
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
The dim red glow of emergency lights reflected on the spacesuit visor of Captain Kazumi Narumi, commanding officer of the Kyoto Animation. Power had been redirected from various nonessential systems to weapons, ECM, sensors, and interdiction, and she was just about to give the order to attack. "We've managed to locate a 121 class 'Wolf' accompanying the 202," a sensor operator chimed in.
"Readjusting targeting solutions to comply," a weapons operator called out.
"Activate jammers and interdictors," Captain Narumi replied curtly. "Order the Lees to focus fire on the 121 and the Hiranos to team up with us in attacking the 202. Have several boarding crews ready to deploy on my order."
"Yes, ma'am," a second weapons operator replied, her fingers dancing swiftly across the keyboard of her console as she and the other operators relayed targeting solutions to the gunnery crews. A single salvo of fusion warheads and depleted uranium penetrators screamed forth from the torpedo tubes and coilguns of the KyoAni and the two Aya Hirano cruisers towards the Radiant Dawn, punching through the Union cruiser's shields and into its jet-black superstructure. Whatever managed to penetrate the shields annihilated anything at their respective points of contact, from thrusters to weapons batteries to sensor arrays.
A similar situation played out between the four Wendee Lee destroyers and the Sentinel; with numerical and sensor superiority, they were able to bring their weapons to bear on the lone destroyer as they set upon it from multiple angles. While the Sentinel's specialized defensive suite allowed it to blunt the first exchange, it was quickly neutered as nuclear torpedoes and coilgun rounds started ripping into the Union destroyer's point-defense batteries and shield generators; the Sentinel's defenses quickly became a nonissue as ordinance started impacting against the destroyer's thrusters, offensive weaponry, and sensors.
Edge of Humanist Union Space (Haruhiist rally point)
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
"Damn it, our scouts are running right into a trap," a sensor operator called out.
"What is it now?" Fleet Admiral Ito queried.
"We've managed to confirm the identity of those other contacts," the operator replied briskly. "There's a 121 class 'Wolf' accompanying the 202 and the Type 89."
Another sensor operator chimed in. "They're attached to a task force consisting of a 340 class 'Cheetah,' two 255 class 'Broadswords,' a 150 class 'Albatross,' three more 202s, and seven more 121s."
"Damn it!" Fleet Admiral Ito cried out as she slammed a fist on the armrest of her chair. "Dispatch six more Lees, two more Hiranos, and another KyoAni! I'll be advancing along with them! Order the rest of the fleet to hold position until further notice!"
As the rest of the fleet held in place, the Hare Hare Yukai and its entourage broke formation, redlining their hyperdrives in an attempt to catch up with the scout fleet. Fleet Admiral Ito hoped she could get to the kill site in time; however, her brief lapse in judgment could cost her several ships.
Haruhiist battleship Kyoto Animation
Edge of Humanist Union Space (Radiant Dawn kill site)
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
The dim red glow of emergency lights reflected on the spacesuit visor of Captain Kazumi Narumi, commanding officer of the Kyoto Animation. Power had been redirected from various nonessential systems to weapons, ECM, sensors, and interdiction, and she was just about to give the order to attack. "We've managed to locate a 121 class 'Wolf' accompanying the 202," a sensor operator chimed in.
"Readjusting targeting solutions to comply," a weapons operator called out.
"Activate jammers and interdictors," Captain Narumi replied curtly. "Order the Lees to focus fire on the 121 and the Hiranos to team up with us in attacking the 202. Have several boarding crews ready to deploy on my order."
"Yes, ma'am," a second weapons operator replied, her fingers dancing swiftly across the keyboard of her console as she and the other operators relayed targeting solutions to the gunnery crews. A single salvo of fusion warheads and depleted uranium penetrators screamed forth from the torpedo tubes and coilguns of the KyoAni and the two Aya Hirano cruisers towards the Radiant Dawn, punching through the Union cruiser's shields and into its jet-black superstructure. Whatever managed to penetrate the shields annihilated anything at their respective points of contact, from thrusters to weapons batteries to sensor arrays.
A similar situation played out between the four Wendee Lee destroyers and the Sentinel; with numerical and sensor superiority, they were able to bring their weapons to bear on the lone destroyer as they set upon it from multiple angles. While the Sentinel's specialized defensive suite allowed it to blunt the first exchange, it was quickly neutered as nuclear torpedoes and coilgun rounds started ripping into the Union destroyer's point-defense batteries and shield generators; the Sentinel's defenses quickly became a nonissue as ordinance started impacting against the destroyer's thrusters, offensive weaponry, and sensors.
Last edited by Shinn Langley Soryu on 2008-01-24 03:06pm, edited 5 times in total.
I ship Eino Ilmari Juutilainen x Lydia V. Litvyak.
Phantasee: Don't be a dick.
Stofsk: What are you, his mother?
The Yosemite Bear: Obviously, which means that he's grounded, and that she needs to go back to sucking Mr. Coffee's cock.
"d-did... did this thread just turn into Thanas/PeZook slash fiction?" - Ilya Muromets[/size]
Stofsk: What are you, his mother?
The Yosemite Bear: Obviously, which means that he's grounded, and that she needs to go back to sucking Mr. Coffee's cock.
"d-did... did this thread just turn into Thanas/PeZook slash fiction?" - Ilya Muromets[/size]
-
Crossroads Inc.
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 9233
- Joined: 2005-03-20 06:26pm
- Location: Defending Sparkeling Bishonen
- Contact:
======Tekonotron-1======
======Primary Kushawni System======
======Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1======
In the vast Caverns of Drydock #7 The keels for immense new warships were being laid. The new Military Fleet was designed, engineered, and calculated by the CityMind itself for the purpose of War and no other..
The Civilians had had their moment in the sun; The Bentusilon had been launched and was touring the primary Kushawni systems on a Patriotic parade. With such things away, the full Industrial capacity of the Great Planet ship were poured into new warships.
Yet, it would be months, years perhaps before the new ships would be finished and be able to make a real difference... In the interim, the National Guard, as it always had, was forced to play center in Kushawni defence…
Comm Wire direct from CityMind to Military General Council
It is my considerations that the times for quiet borders and discretion have come to an end. Things are being set in motion that shall split the remaining starnations yet again and one cannot afford to look weak in the face of an oncoming storm.
The National Guard by all calculations and computer simulations is ill-equiped to handle a full force assault from several “Red-Flagged” nations, yet it is all we have and is the public face of our military. To this end, Taskforce Prometheus and Taskforce Daedalus shall be sent on a tour skirting the borders of ”The Kingdom of Achaea” and the ”BETAC” respectively.
It has been calculated that a forward yet ‘peaceful’ display of Starships along our neighbours will result in a 25% to 32% increase of political standings in outlaying nations.
End of Line
==================
Dispatched to the borders of Achaea and BETAC:
Taskforce Prometheus: 215 Ship Points
Tekonotron Class BattleShip – x1
Benta Class BattleCruiser – x2
Support Destroyer – x4
Combat Destroyer – x4
Sensors ship – x2
Taskforce Daedalus: 215 Ship Points
Tekonotron Class BattleShip – x1
Benta Class BattleCruiser – x2
Support Destroyer – x4
Combat Destroyer – x4
Sensors ship – x2
======Primary Kushawni System======
======Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1======
In the vast Caverns of Drydock #7 The keels for immense new warships were being laid. The new Military Fleet was designed, engineered, and calculated by the CityMind itself for the purpose of War and no other..
The Civilians had had their moment in the sun; The Bentusilon had been launched and was touring the primary Kushawni systems on a Patriotic parade. With such things away, the full Industrial capacity of the Great Planet ship were poured into new warships.
Yet, it would be months, years perhaps before the new ships would be finished and be able to make a real difference... In the interim, the National Guard, as it always had, was forced to play center in Kushawni defence…
Comm Wire direct from CityMind to Military General Council
It is my considerations that the times for quiet borders and discretion have come to an end. Things are being set in motion that shall split the remaining starnations yet again and one cannot afford to look weak in the face of an oncoming storm.
The National Guard by all calculations and computer simulations is ill-equiped to handle a full force assault from several “Red-Flagged” nations, yet it is all we have and is the public face of our military. To this end, Taskforce Prometheus and Taskforce Daedalus shall be sent on a tour skirting the borders of ”The Kingdom of Achaea” and the ”BETAC” respectively.
It has been calculated that a forward yet ‘peaceful’ display of Starships along our neighbours will result in a 25% to 32% increase of political standings in outlaying nations.
End of Line
==================
Dispatched to the borders of Achaea and BETAC:
Taskforce Prometheus: 215 Ship Points
Tekonotron Class BattleShip – x1
Benta Class BattleCruiser – x2
Support Destroyer – x4
Combat Destroyer – x4
Sensors ship – x2
Taskforce Daedalus: 215 Ship Points
Tekonotron Class BattleShip – x1
Benta Class BattleCruiser – x2
Support Destroyer – x4
Combat Destroyer – x4
Sensors ship – x2
Praying is another way of doing nothing helpful
"Congratulations, you get a cookie. You almost got a fundamental English word correct." Pick
"Outlaw star has spaceships that punch eachother" Joviwan
Read "Tales From The Crossroads"!
Read "One Wrong Turn"!
"Congratulations, you get a cookie. You almost got a fundamental English word correct." Pick
"Outlaw star has spaceships that punch eachother" Joviwan
Read "Tales From The Crossroads"!
Read "One Wrong Turn"!
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Academia Nut
- Sith Devotee
- Posts: 2598
- Joined: 2005-08-23 10:44pm
- Location: Edmonton, Alberta
The Megadeth
Just outside Syndicalist Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
Two ship based marines, essentially the standard footsloggers with fully pressurized armour, were waiting for the envoy, their disc launcher rifles shouldered and their face masks removed to present a more human face to the fussy looking little man. Of course considering the tattooing, facial piercing, and combat scarring that was endemic to the Konige, it was always debatable if any individual soldier's face would be more or less intimidating than the death's head gasmasks they typically wore. The two before Andre Tell were less mangled than most, but he still looked ridiculously overdressed in their presence.
"We are here to escort you to the Grand Fleet Tsar sir," one of the marines states before gesturing for the man to follow.
Close up and with sufficient time for examination the decorations on the armour of the marines came into ghastly clarity. Both men had long braids running across their armour made of bits of hair and poorly cured leather woven together, and it soon became obvious that they were almost certainly human scalps.
The trip through the ship was fairly short, most of it spent in a elevator, but the few hallways they passed through were macabre theatres of baroque complexity adorned with trophies of every sort, ranging from bits of scorched hull on display to charnel house style collections of human bones, mostly skulls. The smell was also incredible, a mingle of every imaginable source of pungent smoke, sex, and blood. Ritual chambers that branched off the hallways often had masses of writhing bodies in cult orgies before grotesque altars. The one mercy seemed to be that there were no human sacrifices... here at least.
Coming to a large secured door with two marines out front, the two escorting Andre Tell throw up their right arms, pinky and index fingers extended while the ring and middle fingers were still curled inward, the thumb over top. The guards returned the salute and then opened the door, obviously expecting them.
Inside was a reasonable sized office with a desk and some shelves stocked with numerous bound books. There was a large banner stored in the corner, its texture indicating it was probably made out of some sort of leather or hide, and a modest collection of skulls in a display case.
Reviewing a small, orderly pile of paperwork was the Grand Fleet Tsar Taavi Mustanen, his power armour still on his body, his axe slung over his back even when he was seated and doing paperwork.
He had obviously been expecting this for he had most of the papers set aside already and he the Tsar quickly set aside the last bit to look up and smile at Andre, saying, "Greetings Mr. Tell, I am Grand Fleet Tsar Taavi Mustanen, but you may call me Tsar Taavi, or if you wish to be informal, just Taavi will do. I am somewhat uncertain on the protocols here, should I call you Envoy Tell or Ambassador Tell... oh never mind. I am certain you are wondering why we are here."
Pausing a moment to broadcast a smile that was far less predatory and far more amicable than it should have been, Taavi says, "We're here to loot and pillage the worlds of your nation."
Just outside Syndicalist Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
Two ship based marines, essentially the standard footsloggers with fully pressurized armour, were waiting for the envoy, their disc launcher rifles shouldered and their face masks removed to present a more human face to the fussy looking little man. Of course considering the tattooing, facial piercing, and combat scarring that was endemic to the Konige, it was always debatable if any individual soldier's face would be more or less intimidating than the death's head gasmasks they typically wore. The two before Andre Tell were less mangled than most, but he still looked ridiculously overdressed in their presence.
"We are here to escort you to the Grand Fleet Tsar sir," one of the marines states before gesturing for the man to follow.
Close up and with sufficient time for examination the decorations on the armour of the marines came into ghastly clarity. Both men had long braids running across their armour made of bits of hair and poorly cured leather woven together, and it soon became obvious that they were almost certainly human scalps.
The trip through the ship was fairly short, most of it spent in a elevator, but the few hallways they passed through were macabre theatres of baroque complexity adorned with trophies of every sort, ranging from bits of scorched hull on display to charnel house style collections of human bones, mostly skulls. The smell was also incredible, a mingle of every imaginable source of pungent smoke, sex, and blood. Ritual chambers that branched off the hallways often had masses of writhing bodies in cult orgies before grotesque altars. The one mercy seemed to be that there were no human sacrifices... here at least.
Coming to a large secured door with two marines out front, the two escorting Andre Tell throw up their right arms, pinky and index fingers extended while the ring and middle fingers were still curled inward, the thumb over top. The guards returned the salute and then opened the door, obviously expecting them.
Inside was a reasonable sized office with a desk and some shelves stocked with numerous bound books. There was a large banner stored in the corner, its texture indicating it was probably made out of some sort of leather or hide, and a modest collection of skulls in a display case.
Reviewing a small, orderly pile of paperwork was the Grand Fleet Tsar Taavi Mustanen, his power armour still on his body, his axe slung over his back even when he was seated and doing paperwork.
He had obviously been expecting this for he had most of the papers set aside already and he the Tsar quickly set aside the last bit to look up and smile at Andre, saying, "Greetings Mr. Tell, I am Grand Fleet Tsar Taavi Mustanen, but you may call me Tsar Taavi, or if you wish to be informal, just Taavi will do. I am somewhat uncertain on the protocols here, should I call you Envoy Tell or Ambassador Tell... oh never mind. I am certain you are wondering why we are here."
Pausing a moment to broadcast a smile that was far less predatory and far more amicable than it should have been, Taavi says, "We're here to loot and pillage the worlds of your nation."
I love learning. Teach me. I will listen.
You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
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Thirdfain
- The Player of Games
- Posts: 6924
- Joined: 2003-02-13 09:24pm
- Location: Never underestimate the staggering drawing power of the Garden State.
The Megadeth
Just outside Syndicalist Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
The neat Syndicalist took a seat, unfazed by the towering barbarian's bluntness.
"Andre will do, and I'm here to tell you that you're a blithering idiot- or at least, whoever ordered you to 'loot and pillage the worlds' of our nation is. Now that the diplomatic hogwash is out of the way, we can get down to business."
He opened his tidy leather briefcase- synthetic, surely- and pulled out a handful of documents. He pushed the papers across the table.
"The latest intelligence briefs from across the Successors. I'm sure your own sophisticated sources already have some of this, but there are details here which would be of no small interest."
Andre adjusted his glasses and smiled thinly.
"You see, Taavi, I'm sure that your grand poobah is excited at the prospect of blasting through the undefended Periphery to loot and plunder to his little heart's content, taking what I'm sure you have so long desired from 'Moloch' without doing more than getting some inconvenient blood-splatters on his leathers. Fortunately, you have me here to tell you what a completely imbecilic idea that is. You know as well as I do that the Militia Union has the firepower to match you head on, as well as the manpower and organization to make any invasion drawn out, bloody, and costly- in resources, certainly, but more importantly, in time."
He gestured contemputously at the small pile of papers he'd pushed across the table.
"Taavi, within the next year, the Successors are going to have their act together. There will be defensive alliances, there will be regional governments, and there will be battlefleets. Any one of the organizations on those sheets can match you in space and on the ground, and that's assuming none of them manage to start working together. Meanwhile, there the almighty Ruckers will be, bogged down here at the horse's rear of space, loosing ships and men while old Moloch, or whatever it is that will replace her, gets it's act together- and judging how completely outmatched you gentlemen are by the remnants as a whole, they don't even need to do that well to present a front you stand no chance of beating. You'll wind up back where you started, out in the Black, raiding border systems and writing long and tedious ballads about the Battle of Who Cares VI and the Seige of Blithering Hayseed Beta- the only difference will be, you'll be weaker, and there will be even fewer forces at work who stand to benefit from the continued weakness of the Sphere."
Andre gently wiped his glasses on a hankerchief, looking for all the world like a disappointed schoolteacher.
"As a matter of fact, there's nothing the Konig need more than a functioning, active, and powerful Syndicalist International. There's men and women across the Sphere who hate the Empire and it's successors as much as you do- and they take orders from Kaldigrad. What do you think is going to happen if you discredit and hobble the Revolution with a long and bloody war? Without central control, the dukes and whatnot will cut down the revolutionaries wherever they make a stand, and every one of the successors will be stronger and more unified than before. In conclusion, Taavi, I think your Ruck Tsar needs to seriously reconsider his grandiose plans for war on the stricken corpse of Moloch. He's made a real mess of it so far."
Just outside Syndicalist Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
The neat Syndicalist took a seat, unfazed by the towering barbarian's bluntness.
"Andre will do, and I'm here to tell you that you're a blithering idiot- or at least, whoever ordered you to 'loot and pillage the worlds' of our nation is. Now that the diplomatic hogwash is out of the way, we can get down to business."
He opened his tidy leather briefcase- synthetic, surely- and pulled out a handful of documents. He pushed the papers across the table.
"The latest intelligence briefs from across the Successors. I'm sure your own sophisticated sources already have some of this, but there are details here which would be of no small interest."
Andre adjusted his glasses and smiled thinly.
"You see, Taavi, I'm sure that your grand poobah is excited at the prospect of blasting through the undefended Periphery to loot and plunder to his little heart's content, taking what I'm sure you have so long desired from 'Moloch' without doing more than getting some inconvenient blood-splatters on his leathers. Fortunately, you have me here to tell you what a completely imbecilic idea that is. You know as well as I do that the Militia Union has the firepower to match you head on, as well as the manpower and organization to make any invasion drawn out, bloody, and costly- in resources, certainly, but more importantly, in time."
He gestured contemputously at the small pile of papers he'd pushed across the table.
"Taavi, within the next year, the Successors are going to have their act together. There will be defensive alliances, there will be regional governments, and there will be battlefleets. Any one of the organizations on those sheets can match you in space and on the ground, and that's assuming none of them manage to start working together. Meanwhile, there the almighty Ruckers will be, bogged down here at the horse's rear of space, loosing ships and men while old Moloch, or whatever it is that will replace her, gets it's act together- and judging how completely outmatched you gentlemen are by the remnants as a whole, they don't even need to do that well to present a front you stand no chance of beating. You'll wind up back where you started, out in the Black, raiding border systems and writing long and tedious ballads about the Battle of Who Cares VI and the Seige of Blithering Hayseed Beta- the only difference will be, you'll be weaker, and there will be even fewer forces at work who stand to benefit from the continued weakness of the Sphere."
Andre gently wiped his glasses on a hankerchief, looking for all the world like a disappointed schoolteacher.
"As a matter of fact, there's nothing the Konig need more than a functioning, active, and powerful Syndicalist International. There's men and women across the Sphere who hate the Empire and it's successors as much as you do- and they take orders from Kaldigrad. What do you think is going to happen if you discredit and hobble the Revolution with a long and bloody war? Without central control, the dukes and whatnot will cut down the revolutionaries wherever they make a stand, and every one of the successors will be stronger and more unified than before. In conclusion, Taavi, I think your Ruck Tsar needs to seriously reconsider his grandiose plans for war on the stricken corpse of Moloch. He's made a real mess of it so far."
Under capitalism, man exploits man. Under communism, it's just the opposite.
John Kenneth Galbraith (1908 - )
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Academia Nut
- Sith Devotee
- Posts: 2598
- Joined: 2005-08-23 10:44pm
- Location: Edmonton, Alberta
The Megadeth
Just outside Syndicalist Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
Taavi took this all in and laughed long and hard at Andre before composing himself. Lacing together his gauntleted fingers, Taavi says with a smile, "Ah, such refreshing bluntness Andre. Fine, I see that instead of the limp wristed fops we were expecting, they sent us someone competent instead."
Grinning cruelly, Taavi says, "Since you seem to know something of our culture and our predilection towards 'composing long and tedious ballads', I will tell you what you need to know. We Konige are survivors and scavengers, one by nature, the other by circumstance. We have been out in the black for generations before the grandfather of the first man to dream up Syndicalism was still a gleam in his father's eye. We have been uprooted time and time again by the forces of the Empire, our civilization reduced down to a handful of pitiful stragglers forced further into the black.
"So the one thing we have learned from all those ancient stories that we so meticullously keep is this: we will wring any advantage we can from any situation. My direct orders are 'play all the angles you can'," Taavi then takes something out of his desk and plops down a large stack of battle plans for the Internationale, the 117th Crusade, Moloch, and the Golden Cloud Institute.
"Go ahead and read them if you want, they're all fakes, each one subtly and suicidally flawed... or are they? Hehehehe... I think the thing you should understand about us Konig is that the best of us are all showmen at heart. We would rather the enemy believe us to be something we're not than for them to know the truth, as all intelligent people should, but we play it as a game so much more grandiosely. Sometimes this approach bites us in the ass, sometimes it lets us well and truly fuck with our enemies minds," Taavi says.
"So... if our plans for this sector of space are so flawed, if our plans to loot you for the resources we need are folly... let's cut a deal then. I know that you're not stupid. A war with you that would be disastrous for us would be worse for you, and you know it. Oh, perhaps you could drive us back into the black, even burn us out of our holes, but such things have happened before, it is not been the end of the Konige yet. And while you can certainly say such things about past results not being indicators of future outcomes and be correct, the cost to you would be worse. All those other Successors, especially those that remain pro-Imperial, will see a war between us as a chance to crush two enemies with minimal blood loss on their side," Taavi says smugly.
"So, since you are not a stupid man, let me ask you this. What do you prefer? The rabid, treacherous wolf at your front where you can see it and fight it with the sleeping bear at your back, or the wolf ripping into the bear at your side? Which one will be more dangerous to you in the end?"
Just outside Syndicalist Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
Taavi took this all in and laughed long and hard at Andre before composing himself. Lacing together his gauntleted fingers, Taavi says with a smile, "Ah, such refreshing bluntness Andre. Fine, I see that instead of the limp wristed fops we were expecting, they sent us someone competent instead."
Grinning cruelly, Taavi says, "Since you seem to know something of our culture and our predilection towards 'composing long and tedious ballads', I will tell you what you need to know. We Konige are survivors and scavengers, one by nature, the other by circumstance. We have been out in the black for generations before the grandfather of the first man to dream up Syndicalism was still a gleam in his father's eye. We have been uprooted time and time again by the forces of the Empire, our civilization reduced down to a handful of pitiful stragglers forced further into the black.
"So the one thing we have learned from all those ancient stories that we so meticullously keep is this: we will wring any advantage we can from any situation. My direct orders are 'play all the angles you can'," Taavi then takes something out of his desk and plops down a large stack of battle plans for the Internationale, the 117th Crusade, Moloch, and the Golden Cloud Institute.
"Go ahead and read them if you want, they're all fakes, each one subtly and suicidally flawed... or are they? Hehehehe... I think the thing you should understand about us Konig is that the best of us are all showmen at heart. We would rather the enemy believe us to be something we're not than for them to know the truth, as all intelligent people should, but we play it as a game so much more grandiosely. Sometimes this approach bites us in the ass, sometimes it lets us well and truly fuck with our enemies minds," Taavi says.
"So... if our plans for this sector of space are so flawed, if our plans to loot you for the resources we need are folly... let's cut a deal then. I know that you're not stupid. A war with you that would be disastrous for us would be worse for you, and you know it. Oh, perhaps you could drive us back into the black, even burn us out of our holes, but such things have happened before, it is not been the end of the Konige yet. And while you can certainly say such things about past results not being indicators of future outcomes and be correct, the cost to you would be worse. All those other Successors, especially those that remain pro-Imperial, will see a war between us as a chance to crush two enemies with minimal blood loss on their side," Taavi says smugly.
"So, since you are not a stupid man, let me ask you this. What do you prefer? The rabid, treacherous wolf at your front where you can see it and fight it with the sleeping bear at your back, or the wolf ripping into the bear at your side? Which one will be more dangerous to you in the end?"
I love learning. Teach me. I will listen.
You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
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Thirdfain
- The Player of Games
- Posts: 6924
- Joined: 2003-02-13 09:24pm
- Location: Never underestimate the staggering drawing power of the Garden State.
The Megadeth
Just outside Syndicalist Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
"It may shock you to know that I'm an idealist, Taavi. While most of the black book is populist drivel, it does make a few good points. Of all the weapons of the Oppressor, the most powerful is the inherent inability of his enemies to stand united. That's chapter 7, if you ever feel like opening a book." At this, Andre pulled another sheet from his briefcase, leaving it to join the growing bulwark of assorted paperwork which stretched like a seige-line between the two men.
"These five systems are uninhabited. They are within the borders of the International's current temporal domain. Each one is within a day's transit of a major Syndicalist fleet base or resupply depot. They are also out of the way of transit lines or population centers. They are also close to the Earthwards borders of the Internationale. I can garauntee that from these locations, you can stage fleets of more or less whatever size you please, with the advantage of complete logistical support from the Internationale. Pick one, and it's yours- the whole system; though we reserve the right to maintain our own installations." Andre's thin smile seemed utterly devoid of anything resembling actual mirth or kindness.
"I'm offering you what you've been trying to achieve for generations- the penetration of the Periphery and access to the soft underbelly of the Empire, without wasting so much as a single life or round of ammunition. Moreover; we can arrange for logistical support from Syndicalist sources as far into the Empire as Malacaster- along with intelligence on enemy fleet movements, weak points in defenses, and regions weakened by internal unrest throughout the Successors. Now, before you get all excited at the chance to march into our core systems unopposed, I'd have to inform you that there will be strict clauses as to movement timetables into and out of the region, and you can rest assured that we'll keep a close eye for so much as the slightest deviance. Your own ships would be protected by the distance between the bases and our forces, as well as your understanding that a war with the Konig would be completely against the interests of the Revolution in general and the Internationale in particular. So, "rabid, treacherous wolf-" we'll open the fold for you and let you in amongst the choicest and most succulent sheep."
Just outside Syndicalist Space
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
"It may shock you to know that I'm an idealist, Taavi. While most of the black book is populist drivel, it does make a few good points. Of all the weapons of the Oppressor, the most powerful is the inherent inability of his enemies to stand united. That's chapter 7, if you ever feel like opening a book." At this, Andre pulled another sheet from his briefcase, leaving it to join the growing bulwark of assorted paperwork which stretched like a seige-line between the two men.
"These five systems are uninhabited. They are within the borders of the International's current temporal domain. Each one is within a day's transit of a major Syndicalist fleet base or resupply depot. They are also out of the way of transit lines or population centers. They are also close to the Earthwards borders of the Internationale. I can garauntee that from these locations, you can stage fleets of more or less whatever size you please, with the advantage of complete logistical support from the Internationale. Pick one, and it's yours- the whole system; though we reserve the right to maintain our own installations." Andre's thin smile seemed utterly devoid of anything resembling actual mirth or kindness.
"I'm offering you what you've been trying to achieve for generations- the penetration of the Periphery and access to the soft underbelly of the Empire, without wasting so much as a single life or round of ammunition. Moreover; we can arrange for logistical support from Syndicalist sources as far into the Empire as Malacaster- along with intelligence on enemy fleet movements, weak points in defenses, and regions weakened by internal unrest throughout the Successors. Now, before you get all excited at the chance to march into our core systems unopposed, I'd have to inform you that there will be strict clauses as to movement timetables into and out of the region, and you can rest assured that we'll keep a close eye for so much as the slightest deviance. Your own ships would be protected by the distance between the bases and our forces, as well as your understanding that a war with the Konig would be completely against the interests of the Revolution in general and the Internationale in particular. So, "rabid, treacherous wolf-" we'll open the fold for you and let you in amongst the choicest and most succulent sheep."
Under capitalism, man exploits man. Under communism, it's just the opposite.
John Kenneth Galbraith (1908 - )
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Nephtys
- Sith Acolyte
- Posts: 6227
- Joined: 2005-04-02 10:54pm
- Location: South Cali... where life is cheap!
Makay Sector
Rupturing Hyperspace, the sleek white forms of several Astro-Fleet ships burst into n-space without concern for subtlty or stealth. Each unit slowly formed up, regaining their place in their task group's formation. Proudly floating at the center of the newly arrived fleet, glistening letters across one Battle-Cruiser's hull proudly boasted Avalanche
Aboard the bridge, Captain 'King' Kaplan grinned and stood from his command seat, putting a heroic boot on the step before him. "Ah! Miss MacPherson. Open a hailing frequency, all bands! Helmsman Lansing, give me a direct course Antimatter Burn for that... planet there!" he pointed boldly at the clear skies above and a pearly blue planet.
"Captain, Hailing frequency open on all Hyperwave Frequencies."
Kaplan smiled, hitting a button on his command chair. From below, gentle wind blew into his hair while a flag automatically unruffled behind him, in plain view of the Holo-Cam floating before him. It rippled dramatically in the simulated wind.
"Attention Unidentified Aliens! I am King Kaplan, Captain of the Astro-Fleet Starship Avalanche. You have entered neutral Transhuman space! Do you come in peace, or shall we prepare for war? Beware, for if you choose poorly, I, King Kaplan, will be your ruthless opponent! I await your response."
He closed his eyes as the Holo-Cam shut off. The red-clad MacPherson hit a few more buttons and turned her head. "Transmission away, Captain. I think that was even better than the rehersal."
The bridge crew chuckled to themselves as the task group burned towards the target planet..
Rupturing Hyperspace, the sleek white forms of several Astro-Fleet ships burst into n-space without concern for subtlty or stealth. Each unit slowly formed up, regaining their place in their task group's formation. Proudly floating at the center of the newly arrived fleet, glistening letters across one Battle-Cruiser's hull proudly boasted Avalanche
Aboard the bridge, Captain 'King' Kaplan grinned and stood from his command seat, putting a heroic boot on the step before him. "Ah! Miss MacPherson. Open a hailing frequency, all bands! Helmsman Lansing, give me a direct course Antimatter Burn for that... planet there!" he pointed boldly at the clear skies above and a pearly blue planet.
"Captain, Hailing frequency open on all Hyperwave Frequencies."
Kaplan smiled, hitting a button on his command chair. From below, gentle wind blew into his hair while a flag automatically unruffled behind him, in plain view of the Holo-Cam floating before him. It rippled dramatically in the simulated wind.
"Attention Unidentified Aliens! I am King Kaplan, Captain of the Astro-Fleet Starship Avalanche. You have entered neutral Transhuman space! Do you come in peace, or shall we prepare for war? Beware, for if you choose poorly, I, King Kaplan, will be your ruthless opponent! I await your response."
He closed his eyes as the Holo-Cam shut off. The red-clad MacPherson hit a few more buttons and turned her head. "Transmission away, Captain. I think that was even better than the rehersal."
The bridge crew chuckled to themselves as the task group burned towards the target planet..
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consequences
- Homicidal Maniac
- Posts: 6964
- Joined: 2002-07-07 03:06pm
Corona Stars Commonwealth
Outskirts
It began innocuously, with a vague sensor ghost flitting rapidly across the edge of detection of an outer sensor station. It rapidly became less innocuous, as station after station began to report detection traces closer and closer in from all directions. Very shortly, it became brick-shitting panic worthy, as a massive cluster of jamming briskly moved in on a straight lne course from the Fifth Battle Fleet's known strongholds towards the Aegis system.
Outskirts
It began innocuously, with a vague sensor ghost flitting rapidly across the edge of detection of an outer sensor station. It rapidly became less innocuous, as station after station began to report detection traces closer and closer in from all directions. Very shortly, it became brick-shitting panic worthy, as a massive cluster of jamming briskly moved in on a straight lne course from the Fifth Battle Fleet's known strongholds towards the Aegis system.
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Darkevilme
- Jedi Council Member
- Posts: 1514
- Joined: 2007-06-12 02:27pm
- Location: London, england
- Contact:
Makay Sector, Human defence vessel Medusa
The command deck of the cruiser was cramped, hearkening back to the submarines of old, crew intently hunched over their duty stations under the watchful eyes of captain Hammond.
“Tracked contacts making hyperspace emergence.” Hammond nods softly, it’d been two hours since a tracking station picked up the unidentified vessels on hyperband and Hammond’s squadron had been moved within a million kilometres of the likely emergence point along with Valhalla squadron.
“Okay lets ask these fellows what the devil they’re about shall we, open channel”
“Sir incoming signal, all bands.” Hammond raises an eyebrow “Let’s hear it”
"Attention Unidentified Aliens! I am King Kaplan, Captain of the Astro-Fleet Starship Avalanche. You have entered neutral Transhuman space! Do you come in peace, or shall we prepare for war? Beware, for if you choose poorly, I, King Kaplan, will be your ruthless opponent! I await your response."
“Unidentified aliens? Who the blazes does he think he’s talking to, open a channel damnit.” Hammond says others don’t understand, the benefactors must not be revealed..
“Channel open sir” Hammond’s eyes refocus and he looks to the narrow speaker grill above his station.
“This is captain Hammond of the starcruiser Medusa, tasked with the defence of the province of Makay. There is no alien presence here, I request to know the intentions of your battlegroup in our space.”
1billion Kilometres above star system, The claw eternal
“Planetary bases have forwarded signals from the unknowns battlemistress.”
“Play it, could prove amusing.” Melusine looks around the command deck and stretches leisurely on her dias before sitting up as the signal comes through on the main monitors.
"Attention Unidentified Aliens! I am King Kaplan, Captain of the Astro-Fleet Starship Avalanche. You have entered neutral Transhuman space! Do you come in peace, or shall we prepare for war? Beware, for if you choose poorly, I, King Kaplan, will be your ruthless opponent! I await your response."
Melusine’s tail flicks mildly and she looks to the feline in charge of coms “And what is the gist of the prey babble?” she asks, like pretty much all felines not having bothered learning the language of cattle. A moment later King Kaplan’s dramatic figure is replaced by a readout of what he said suitably translated into a superior tongue.
“Well that’s cute, I suppose the thralls may be able to handle it without us tipping the paw. Contact first and second incursion fleets and have them ready themselves just in case.” Melusine runs a hand over a control post and brings back Kaplan’s image, considering the human idly.
“Oh and get some decent readings on their capabilities, I’m sure even the thralls can manage to count the ships.” She says as an after thought, moistening her lips slightly.
The command deck of the cruiser was cramped, hearkening back to the submarines of old, crew intently hunched over their duty stations under the watchful eyes of captain Hammond.
“Tracked contacts making hyperspace emergence.” Hammond nods softly, it’d been two hours since a tracking station picked up the unidentified vessels on hyperband and Hammond’s squadron had been moved within a million kilometres of the likely emergence point along with Valhalla squadron.
“Okay lets ask these fellows what the devil they’re about shall we, open channel”
“Sir incoming signal, all bands.” Hammond raises an eyebrow “Let’s hear it”
"Attention Unidentified Aliens! I am King Kaplan, Captain of the Astro-Fleet Starship Avalanche. You have entered neutral Transhuman space! Do you come in peace, or shall we prepare for war? Beware, for if you choose poorly, I, King Kaplan, will be your ruthless opponent! I await your response."
“Unidentified aliens? Who the blazes does he think he’s talking to, open a channel damnit.” Hammond says others don’t understand, the benefactors must not be revealed..
“Channel open sir” Hammond’s eyes refocus and he looks to the narrow speaker grill above his station.
“This is captain Hammond of the starcruiser Medusa, tasked with the defence of the province of Makay. There is no alien presence here, I request to know the intentions of your battlegroup in our space.”
1billion Kilometres above star system, The claw eternal
“Planetary bases have forwarded signals from the unknowns battlemistress.”
“Play it, could prove amusing.” Melusine looks around the command deck and stretches leisurely on her dias before sitting up as the signal comes through on the main monitors.
"Attention Unidentified Aliens! I am King Kaplan, Captain of the Astro-Fleet Starship Avalanche. You have entered neutral Transhuman space! Do you come in peace, or shall we prepare for war? Beware, for if you choose poorly, I, King Kaplan, will be your ruthless opponent! I await your response."
Melusine’s tail flicks mildly and she looks to the feline in charge of coms “And what is the gist of the prey babble?” she asks, like pretty much all felines not having bothered learning the language of cattle. A moment later King Kaplan’s dramatic figure is replaced by a readout of what he said suitably translated into a superior tongue.
“Well that’s cute, I suppose the thralls may be able to handle it without us tipping the paw. Contact first and second incursion fleets and have them ready themselves just in case.” Melusine runs a hand over a control post and brings back Kaplan’s image, considering the human idly.
“Oh and get some decent readings on their capabilities, I’m sure even the thralls can manage to count the ships.” She says as an after thought, moistening her lips slightly.
Listening Post 9-17
Near Aegis System
The AI controlling the listening post examined the sensor readings again, looking for the tell-tale disturbances that would indicate just what, exactly, was coming their way. Finally giving up, it transmitted the rest of what it could detect while the transmission could still get through With that done, it directed its attention to the safeguarding of the station and itself. A fuzy sensor contact of this size ould only mean one thing: purposeful jamming, and that could only mean one thing: warships.
Aegis System
The CSC warships currently in-system scrambled out of their orbits and towards the assembly points. Frantic human communications and calculated AI conversations flew through space, organizing the ships into temporary squadrons and lines of battle. The system defense patrol boats also responded, dropping their other duties and rushing to join the larger military ships.
Elsewhere in the CSC, alerts were issued to warships on patrol, telling them to drop what they were doing and stand by to hyperspace to the Aegis system. If this was as large as people feared, they would need the reinforcements.
Scout Fleet Two
Deep Space
The bridge of the Summertime suddenly lit up in red, a universal sign meaning "Something bad, pay attention!" Before the pilot and captain even realized what was going on, the ship's reactor cranked up to full power, and the hyperdrive spun up to a higher transit plane. With newfound freedom of movement, the scout ship executed a movement in higher-dimensional space that trnaslated to a real-space U-turn.
Almost as abruptly, the flashing red changed into bright amber, and the bridge consoles woke up from their hibernation. A message flashed across the main console for each bridge position: "Interdiction field detected. Executing plan Interdiction-1. Reactor output 95%, Hyperdrive output 80%, reverse course plotted, recorded message sent. Standing by for instructions."
Onboard the ships of the rest of the fleet, the scout ship's message arrived, with command authorizations. All ships acknowledged the message and began dropping out of hyperspace. Within two minutes, the ships of Scout Fleet Two were all assembled, several hundred thousand kilometers from the edge of the interdiction field.
Before any real investigation could start, however, a fast courier dropped out of hyperspace on top of them. The Fleet Command-authority orders said simply "Trouble at home, get back here ASAP."
Near Aegis System
The AI controlling the listening post examined the sensor readings again, looking for the tell-tale disturbances that would indicate just what, exactly, was coming their way. Finally giving up, it transmitted the rest of what it could detect while the transmission could still get through With that done, it directed its attention to the safeguarding of the station and itself. A fuzy sensor contact of this size ould only mean one thing: purposeful jamming, and that could only mean one thing: warships.
Aegis System
The CSC warships currently in-system scrambled out of their orbits and towards the assembly points. Frantic human communications and calculated AI conversations flew through space, organizing the ships into temporary squadrons and lines of battle. The system defense patrol boats also responded, dropping their other duties and rushing to join the larger military ships.
Elsewhere in the CSC, alerts were issued to warships on patrol, telling them to drop what they were doing and stand by to hyperspace to the Aegis system. If this was as large as people feared, they would need the reinforcements.
Scout Fleet Two
Deep Space
The bridge of the Summertime suddenly lit up in red, a universal sign meaning "Something bad, pay attention!" Before the pilot and captain even realized what was going on, the ship's reactor cranked up to full power, and the hyperdrive spun up to a higher transit plane. With newfound freedom of movement, the scout ship executed a movement in higher-dimensional space that trnaslated to a real-space U-turn.
Almost as abruptly, the flashing red changed into bright amber, and the bridge consoles woke up from their hibernation. A message flashed across the main console for each bridge position: "Interdiction field detected. Executing plan Interdiction-1. Reactor output 95%, Hyperdrive output 80%, reverse course plotted, recorded message sent. Standing by for instructions."
Onboard the ships of the rest of the fleet, the scout ship's message arrived, with command authorizations. All ships acknowledged the message and began dropping out of hyperspace. Within two minutes, the ships of Scout Fleet Two were all assembled, several hundred thousand kilometers from the edge of the interdiction field.
Before any real investigation could start, however, a fast courier dropped out of hyperspace on top of them. The Fleet Command-authority orders said simply "Trouble at home, get back here ASAP."
-
consequences
- Homicidal Maniac
- Posts: 6964
- Joined: 2002-07-07 03:06pm
Deep Space
Their basic mission done, the scouts began to cut around and across Commonwealth space to rejoin the main body. While still respectably stealthy, their signatures were vastly more noticeable now as they accelerated to full speed. The possibility of interception by defending forces weighed heavily on the captains' minds, but not as heavily as the benefit to the mission that diverting defending forces from the oncoming slaughter would provide, and nowhere near as heavily as their cybernetic control implants, cerebral detonators, and unhackable pre-programmed war robots lurking in the back of the control spaces.
The fleet's jamming was primarily designed to keep observers from getting a good look at fleet dispostions, since the sheer amount of it made it clear that at the very least several battle squadrons accompanied by the majority of Tarnok's dedicated fleet defense cruisers were coming to play. As such, it would take a supremely capable tac-witch with amazing systems to isolate the small squadron set immediately in front of the massed formation to trigger any possible Interdiction ambush short of the target.
As a further incentive to draw out the defenders, the scouts started broadwaving the Greatest Hits compilation of past holo-footage of Fifth fleet planetary assaults. If nothing else, the hysterical reaction of civilians was always good for a laugh, but if a panicked civilian ship exodus could be induced to foul the defenders coordination, tracking, and basic space traffic control, so much the better.
Their basic mission done, the scouts began to cut around and across Commonwealth space to rejoin the main body. While still respectably stealthy, their signatures were vastly more noticeable now as they accelerated to full speed. The possibility of interception by defending forces weighed heavily on the captains' minds, but not as heavily as the benefit to the mission that diverting defending forces from the oncoming slaughter would provide, and nowhere near as heavily as their cybernetic control implants, cerebral detonators, and unhackable pre-programmed war robots lurking in the back of the control spaces.
The fleet's jamming was primarily designed to keep observers from getting a good look at fleet dispostions, since the sheer amount of it made it clear that at the very least several battle squadrons accompanied by the majority of Tarnok's dedicated fleet defense cruisers were coming to play. As such, it would take a supremely capable tac-witch with amazing systems to isolate the small squadron set immediately in front of the massed formation to trigger any possible Interdiction ambush short of the target.
As a further incentive to draw out the defenders, the scouts started broadwaving the Greatest Hits compilation of past holo-footage of Fifth fleet planetary assaults. If nothing else, the hysterical reaction of civilians was always good for a laugh, but if a panicked civilian ship exodus could be induced to foul the defenders coordination, tracking, and basic space traffic control, so much the better.
Presidential Office
Archangel
Hearth System
"The Fifth Fleet? The notorious Fifth Fleet? And they're broadcasting their intentions, it looks like. Cute. Well, at least we know who we're dealing with now."
"Indeed, Mr. President. The top military officials have already met, and are mobilizing the navy to defend our space. They are requesting permission to institute martial law in the Aegis system."
"Martial law?"
"Yes, sir. It's drastic, I know-"
"If it were any other case, I'd have to refuse. But this is the Fifth Fleet we're talking about. I still remember the last time we fought them, and nearly lost too. Alright, tell them it's approved. And make sure they know that they can do whatever they need to in order to protect our people."
"Anything? Sir, are you sure?"
"I hope so..."
Aegis System
This fleet was massive, there was no doubt about it. And it was headed in a straight line towards the Aegis system, with almost no chance of deviation now. Reinforcements were called in from all over the Commonwealth, leaving other systems poorly defended. It was a risk, but at this point, every decision exposed something vulnerable.
As the biggest fleet in recent history started to assemble, all eyes were glued onto tracking screens. The big fuzzy sensor contact moved closer and closer, with a countdown timer in the corner. Friendly sensor contacts were moving towards the site chosen for the battle. Conveniently, a large gas giant and its radioactive moons were on the approach vector of the enemy fleet. Battle lines were drawn up, with the planet anchoring one end of the formation. Interdictors were fired up, to ensure that the battle took place here. Far from the center of the system, this battlefield would allow the CSC ships to retreat if need be, and regroup for a final defense around the core of the system, where civilians were even now beginning to evacuate.
With martial law imposed several minutes ago, and reserve troops called into action, the panic that resulted was blunted, but still present. Many, especially the rich, insisted on fleeing in their own ships, and they were allowed to leave, provided that they follow very specific routes. Guarded by a few frigates, the fleeing refugees were sufficiently cowed by the massive energy signatures and huge gun barrels to mostly follow the directions they were given. A few warning shots were needed for the unruly ones, but nobody really wanted to get shot by their own nation's fleet.
On the surface, reserve troops reported to armories and got equipped, while normal everyday people were looking for the nearest gun, bomb, or sharp object for which to defend their homes. Everyone knew about the Fifth Fleet, and the broadcasts soon educated those that had lapsed.
As the enemy bore down, the CSC prepared for war.
Archangel
Hearth System
"The Fifth Fleet? The notorious Fifth Fleet? And they're broadcasting their intentions, it looks like. Cute. Well, at least we know who we're dealing with now."
"Indeed, Mr. President. The top military officials have already met, and are mobilizing the navy to defend our space. They are requesting permission to institute martial law in the Aegis system."
"Martial law?"
"Yes, sir. It's drastic, I know-"
"If it were any other case, I'd have to refuse. But this is the Fifth Fleet we're talking about. I still remember the last time we fought them, and nearly lost too. Alright, tell them it's approved. And make sure they know that they can do whatever they need to in order to protect our people."
"Anything? Sir, are you sure?"
"I hope so..."
Aegis System
This fleet was massive, there was no doubt about it. And it was headed in a straight line towards the Aegis system, with almost no chance of deviation now. Reinforcements were called in from all over the Commonwealth, leaving other systems poorly defended. It was a risk, but at this point, every decision exposed something vulnerable.
As the biggest fleet in recent history started to assemble, all eyes were glued onto tracking screens. The big fuzzy sensor contact moved closer and closer, with a countdown timer in the corner. Friendly sensor contacts were moving towards the site chosen for the battle. Conveniently, a large gas giant and its radioactive moons were on the approach vector of the enemy fleet. Battle lines were drawn up, with the planet anchoring one end of the formation. Interdictors were fired up, to ensure that the battle took place here. Far from the center of the system, this battlefield would allow the CSC ships to retreat if need be, and regroup for a final defense around the core of the system, where civilians were even now beginning to evacuate.
With martial law imposed several minutes ago, and reserve troops called into action, the panic that resulted was blunted, but still present. Many, especially the rich, insisted on fleeing in their own ships, and they were allowed to leave, provided that they follow very specific routes. Guarded by a few frigates, the fleeing refugees were sufficiently cowed by the massive energy signatures and huge gun barrels to mostly follow the directions they were given. A few warning shots were needed for the unruly ones, but nobody really wanted to get shot by their own nation's fleet.
On the surface, reserve troops reported to armories and got equipped, while normal everyday people were looking for the nearest gun, bomb, or sharp object for which to defend their homes. Everyone knew about the Fifth Fleet, and the broadcasts soon educated those that had lapsed.
As the enemy bore down, the CSC prepared for war.
==Edge of Union Space==
==Haruhiist-Union Skirmish Site 1==
The Radiant Dawn and Sentinel had been waiting for the mysterious incoming arrivals, and when they appeared from warp-space neither ship hesitated to immediately lock and open fire. Massive railcannon barrels bloomed with brief, brilliant purple-blue plasma as they hurled their explosive rounds at their enemies. Missile pods coughed brief halos of flame as clusters of missiles swarmed like lethal hornets from their honeycomb-like weapon pods. Forgoing standard combat doctrine, the Radiant Dawn's single cruise missile port hurled one of its own expensive missiles at the enemy force: outnumbered as they were, now was no time to be resource-conservative. Each ship's vicious fire had one target: the doctrine-mandated target, the largest target; the cruiser under the command of Captain Narumi.
Other naval commanders might have shown fear in the face of such dire odds: Captain Kyznetsov was not one of these men. His cold, enhanced brain told him that both his beloved Radiant Dawn and the Sentinel were doomed if something were to delay the main body of Admiral Ferguson's task force. Calmly, Kyznetsov put his trump card into play, as pathetic as it was: contacting the command-savant aboard the captured insurgent freighter, he ordered that it ram the nearest ship, a Hirano-class at maximum acceleration. The savant replied by swinging his boxy, battle-damaged vessel in-line with the enemy and charging.
Even as he did this, the enemy ships had maneuvered and opened fire themselves: shields glowed brilliant white, failing in places and finally breaking down entirely. Kyznetsov and his counterpart aboard the Sentinel struggled to stand as each vessel was savaged and shook by probing coilgun slugs and furious missile barrages: neither ship would survive another full salvo. Indeed, it was almost as if the bridge crew themselves were dying, such was their integration with the ship's systems. A part of Captain Kyznetsov realized that he felt genuine pity for his ship as systems went dark and cold; it was like losing an old friend. In a way, that's exactly what it was: Kyznetsov had served aboard the Radiant Dawn for most of his commanding career; his mind knew the systems of the ship just as well as he knew any actual man or woman.
It was then that the cavalry arrived: Vice Admiral Ferguson, leading in the battlecruiser New London, wasted no time. Ordering his vessels to open fire on Captain Narumi's vessel, the vacuum was suddenly filled with carefully-guided death. Only one Humanist Union vessel sat this savage exchange out: the tactical cruiser Tundra, which lurked on the edge of the battlefield, waiting to be ordered to make a short hop into combat range if it was so ordered and monitoring its sensors intently to pick up any readings of more incoming enemy forces.
---
OOC: I'm not going to call the hit on the freighter for obvious reasons; I leave it to your judgement whether firepower will be used to dispatch it (negligent, obviously) or whether its surprise charge succeeded.
I've decided to forgo my option to call where your "general" shots hit: this isn't exactly a large fleet engagement where we would expect ships to be interfering with each other. I really, really don't want you to "decide" which ships you hit in the future though, since defenders split up damage according to the rules (save where superior sensors let you direct +O, but I'm not talking about that). Obviously I'm not going to ignore what you aim at, but it kinda restricts me (RP and game wise) when you TELL me what you hit.
Damage Report
Union Force 1
Damage Dealt: 2.8 (directed at the KyoAni)
Damage Received: 12 points (distributed as RP'd)
Radiant Dawn HP: 1.2
Sentinel HP: 1.8 + .25 due to D (2.05)
Union Force 2
Damage Dealt: 21.6 (directed at KyoAni: killing damage level w/ 4.4 left over to be distributed amongst your force. Obviously, if you focused your 1 HP's worth of defense on the KyoAni, 3.4 points of firepower remain instead)
Damage Received: n/a (will be updated as the battle progresses)
All Ships HP: n/a (will be updated as the battle progresses)
Notes: From what I'm reading in the rules, both sides of a conflict can expect to get off a salvo before being damaged, with the obvious exception being total bum-rushes and traps.
==Haruhiist-Union Skirmish Site 1==
The Radiant Dawn and Sentinel had been waiting for the mysterious incoming arrivals, and when they appeared from warp-space neither ship hesitated to immediately lock and open fire. Massive railcannon barrels bloomed with brief, brilliant purple-blue plasma as they hurled their explosive rounds at their enemies. Missile pods coughed brief halos of flame as clusters of missiles swarmed like lethal hornets from their honeycomb-like weapon pods. Forgoing standard combat doctrine, the Radiant Dawn's single cruise missile port hurled one of its own expensive missiles at the enemy force: outnumbered as they were, now was no time to be resource-conservative. Each ship's vicious fire had one target: the doctrine-mandated target, the largest target; the cruiser under the command of Captain Narumi.
Other naval commanders might have shown fear in the face of such dire odds: Captain Kyznetsov was not one of these men. His cold, enhanced brain told him that both his beloved Radiant Dawn and the Sentinel were doomed if something were to delay the main body of Admiral Ferguson's task force. Calmly, Kyznetsov put his trump card into play, as pathetic as it was: contacting the command-savant aboard the captured insurgent freighter, he ordered that it ram the nearest ship, a Hirano-class at maximum acceleration. The savant replied by swinging his boxy, battle-damaged vessel in-line with the enemy and charging.
Even as he did this, the enemy ships had maneuvered and opened fire themselves: shields glowed brilliant white, failing in places and finally breaking down entirely. Kyznetsov and his counterpart aboard the Sentinel struggled to stand as each vessel was savaged and shook by probing coilgun slugs and furious missile barrages: neither ship would survive another full salvo. Indeed, it was almost as if the bridge crew themselves were dying, such was their integration with the ship's systems. A part of Captain Kyznetsov realized that he felt genuine pity for his ship as systems went dark and cold; it was like losing an old friend. In a way, that's exactly what it was: Kyznetsov had served aboard the Radiant Dawn for most of his commanding career; his mind knew the systems of the ship just as well as he knew any actual man or woman.
It was then that the cavalry arrived: Vice Admiral Ferguson, leading in the battlecruiser New London, wasted no time. Ordering his vessels to open fire on Captain Narumi's vessel, the vacuum was suddenly filled with carefully-guided death. Only one Humanist Union vessel sat this savage exchange out: the tactical cruiser Tundra, which lurked on the edge of the battlefield, waiting to be ordered to make a short hop into combat range if it was so ordered and monitoring its sensors intently to pick up any readings of more incoming enemy forces.
---
OOC: I'm not going to call the hit on the freighter for obvious reasons; I leave it to your judgement whether firepower will be used to dispatch it (negligent, obviously) or whether its surprise charge succeeded.
I've decided to forgo my option to call where your "general" shots hit: this isn't exactly a large fleet engagement where we would expect ships to be interfering with each other. I really, really don't want you to "decide" which ships you hit in the future though, since defenders split up damage according to the rules (save where superior sensors let you direct +O, but I'm not talking about that). Obviously I'm not going to ignore what you aim at, but it kinda restricts me (RP and game wise) when you TELL me what you hit.
Damage Report
Union Force 1
Damage Dealt: 2.8 (directed at the KyoAni)
Damage Received: 12 points (distributed as RP'd)
Radiant Dawn HP: 1.2
Sentinel HP: 1.8 + .25 due to D (2.05)
Union Force 2
Damage Dealt: 21.6 (directed at KyoAni: killing damage level w/ 4.4 left over to be distributed amongst your force. Obviously, if you focused your 1 HP's worth of defense on the KyoAni, 3.4 points of firepower remain instead)
Damage Received: n/a (will be updated as the battle progresses)
All Ships HP: n/a (will be updated as the battle progresses)
Notes: From what I'm reading in the rules, both sides of a conflict can expect to get off a salvo before being damaged, with the obvious exception being total bum-rushes and traps.
Last edited by Tanasinn on 2008-01-23 04:20pm, edited 1 time in total.
The interdiction fields glimmered in space beyond the sight of mortal men, and small pebbles of CSC ships appeared on the horizon, slipping nearly into the waiting arms...
Near Scout Fleet Two
Deep Space
Blue curls of smoke reached out towards the small scout fleet, snaking through space towards them as the center of mass of the cloud--obscured deep within the haze were flecks of debris and derelict vessels, as well as alien shapes and radiances. The whole slipped forwards after the intruders like a great blue-green octopus. Or snail. But mostly an octopus--an octopus with lasers on it's tentacles.
The abberant nebula seems to be silent, but a moment later all is fury. The dead vessels inside the cloud flickered alive a moment, twitching electrical spasms like diodes pressed to a cadaver, belching light and thunder at the Commonwealth's small scout force. Fragments of Imperial vessels spun towards the fleet, thrown by the immense gravity of the mysterious space cloud into the fray. Lances of graser beams slice through the crackling clouds of ionized gas, turning the nebula to an angry stormcloud with darkness swirling at the center. The gutted corpse of Imperial Warship Everlasting Justice of Our Imperial Might rolls on it's axis and fires off some of it's original ordinance mixed with the xenotech weaponry. The shots are nearly indiscriminate, overkill in the extreme, at least for those close enough to be struck.
One of the strange xeno vessels, a somber monolith of matte black fading into bruised and pumice-pocked pewter, slips to the front of the fleet and probes out with sensor pings as probing waves twice as strong ripple out from the gravitationally intense center of the nebula.
Graveyard Unnamed
Contents:
1 Military Derelict (50) = 50
1 Interdiction Matrix (50) = 50
6 Xenotech Weapon Platforms (20) = 120
2 Xenotech Pickets (25) = 50
18 Debris Clusters (3) = 54
3 Unidentified Objects (2) = 6
(I think there's enough firepower here to atomize the tiny fleet, but let's discuss the result, as I'd like to let a ship get away. I name my fleets graveyards, and I haven't given this one a name yet, I was hoping to name it after the first sector it attacks or something, but this is a deep space combat, so I dunno what to call it yet.)
Near Scout Fleet Two
Deep Space
Blue curls of smoke reached out towards the small scout fleet, snaking through space towards them as the center of mass of the cloud--obscured deep within the haze were flecks of debris and derelict vessels, as well as alien shapes and radiances. The whole slipped forwards after the intruders like a great blue-green octopus. Or snail. But mostly an octopus--an octopus with lasers on it's tentacles.
The abberant nebula seems to be silent, but a moment later all is fury. The dead vessels inside the cloud flickered alive a moment, twitching electrical spasms like diodes pressed to a cadaver, belching light and thunder at the Commonwealth's small scout force. Fragments of Imperial vessels spun towards the fleet, thrown by the immense gravity of the mysterious space cloud into the fray. Lances of graser beams slice through the crackling clouds of ionized gas, turning the nebula to an angry stormcloud with darkness swirling at the center. The gutted corpse of Imperial Warship Everlasting Justice of Our Imperial Might rolls on it's axis and fires off some of it's original ordinance mixed with the xenotech weaponry. The shots are nearly indiscriminate, overkill in the extreme, at least for those close enough to be struck.
One of the strange xeno vessels, a somber monolith of matte black fading into bruised and pumice-pocked pewter, slips to the front of the fleet and probes out with sensor pings as probing waves twice as strong ripple out from the gravitationally intense center of the nebula.
Graveyard Unnamed
Contents:
1 Military Derelict (50) = 50
1 Interdiction Matrix (50) = 50
6 Xenotech Weapon Platforms (20) = 120
2 Xenotech Pickets (25) = 50
18 Debris Clusters (3) = 54
3 Unidentified Objects (2) = 6
(I think there's enough firepower here to atomize the tiny fleet, but let's discuss the result, as I'd like to let a ship get away. I name my fleets graveyards, and I haven't given this one a name yet, I was hoping to name it after the first sector it attacks or something, but this is a deep space combat, so I dunno what to call it yet.)
-
Nephtys
- Sith Acolyte
- Posts: 6227
- Joined: 2005-04-02 10:54pm
- Location: South Cali... where life is cheap!
Makay Sector
"Transhumans?" Captain 'King' Kaplan said with surprise at the words of his trusty first officer, Sidekick Senior Grade Al-Daim. The olive-skinned man nodded as the communications officer replayed the message back.
"Comm, reply. Inquire where those unknown ships had gone, and where is our civilian surveyor. The lives of that crew are of the utmost importance! Throw in something about... cooperation and peace as well." Kaplan commanded with his booming voice, though he turned a little smile. "And while you're at it... Lieutenant Hyal, give me a hull map of that cruiser. Looks like an antique from here!"
"Aye Captain!" the comm officer grinned back, her red-gloved hands already dancing over switches and dials.
---
Avalanche and her sister-ship Penetrator rolled along their axis, continuing their maneuvers as Battlecruiser Division Two, the central element of the Expeditionary Fleet. A Heavy Cruiser division coasted along as well, flanked by two whole squadrons of Space Frigates. They steadily closed on the long isolated colony world.
---
Transmission reads: System or Planetery Government, We have lost signal with a registered commercial ship of the Beta Aquilae Concordat in this very system. What is the condition of our ship and her crew? And of your planet? The Concordat exists to protect all of post-humanity since the fall of the Empire. Given your apparently diminished technology level, cooperation with us may uplift your tech-base and economy to new levels of prosperity. Avalanche, Over.
"Transhumans?" Captain 'King' Kaplan said with surprise at the words of his trusty first officer, Sidekick Senior Grade Al-Daim. The olive-skinned man nodded as the communications officer replayed the message back.
"Comm, reply. Inquire where those unknown ships had gone, and where is our civilian surveyor. The lives of that crew are of the utmost importance! Throw in something about... cooperation and peace as well." Kaplan commanded with his booming voice, though he turned a little smile. "And while you're at it... Lieutenant Hyal, give me a hull map of that cruiser. Looks like an antique from here!"
"Aye Captain!" the comm officer grinned back, her red-gloved hands already dancing over switches and dials.
---
Avalanche and her sister-ship Penetrator rolled along their axis, continuing their maneuvers as Battlecruiser Division Two, the central element of the Expeditionary Fleet. A Heavy Cruiser division coasted along as well, flanked by two whole squadrons of Space Frigates. They steadily closed on the long isolated colony world.
---
Transmission reads: System or Planetery Government, We have lost signal with a registered commercial ship of the Beta Aquilae Concordat in this very system. What is the condition of our ship and her crew? And of your planet? The Concordat exists to protect all of post-humanity since the fall of the Empire. Given your apparently diminished technology level, cooperation with us may uplift your tech-base and economy to new levels of prosperity. Avalanche, Over.
-
Shinn Langley Soryu
- Jedi Council Member
- Posts: 1526
- Joined: 2006-08-18 11:27pm
- Location: COOBIE YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS
Haruhiist cruiser Aya Hirano
Edge of Humanist Union space (Haruhiist-Union Skirmish Site 1)
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
"Is that Type 89 actually trying to ram us?" Captain Christine Grace asked incredulously.
"Looks like it is," a weapons operator replied. "Should we just blast it now?"
"Sure," Captain Grace shot back. "Fire a torpedo at it."
One of the nuclear torpedoes sent towards the Radiant Dawn changed course in mid-flight and veered off towards the Type 89, its targeting functions overridden by the Hirano's weapons operators. A weapon purpose-built to smash through the shields and armor plating of a capital ship would have no problem annihilating a civilian freighter; in a textbook example of overkill, the warhead connected with the freighter's thrusters and detonated, the resulting shockwave ripping the ship to shreds. The Hirano's shields glowed a dim blue as shrapnel from the explosion harmlessly impacted against them.
Captain Grace was about to heave a sigh of relief when she was forced to draw it back in. The rest of the Humanist Union task force dropped in just beyond the edge of the scouts' interdiction field, guns blazing as they advanced towards the Haruhiists. After taking a moment to regain her composure, she started barking out more orders. "Redirect fire from the Radiant Dawn and Sentinel to the new arrivals! Order the Lees to activate their defensive arrays! Tell the boarding crews to sortie now!"
The operators frantically pounded at their consoles, relaying orders and information to the appropriate destinations. Boarding shuttles streamed forth from the Haruhiist ships in an attempt to overtake the Radiant Dawn and Sentinel as DU penetrators and nuclear missiles streaked forth to greet the rest of the Humanist Union task force.
Haruhiist battleship Kyoto Animation
Edge of Humanist Union space (Haruhiist-Union Skirmish Site 1)
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
From the moment the Humanist Union fleet dropped into realspace, Captain Narumi realized that she was fucked. Nevertheless, she and the rest of the KyoAni's crew were not going to go down without a fight. As the rest of the bridge personnel calmly recalculated targeting solutions, the captain opened a channel to the 340 class battlecruiser New London in order to deliver a short message to Vice Admiral Ferguson. "Your destruction is the will of the Goddess, and we are Her instruments," she said calmly and purposefully, a slight grin perceptible through the tinted glass of her spacesuit visor, even in the poor lighting conditions aboard the ship.
Once the channel had been closed, Captain Narumi went back to issuing orders in her usual calm voice; the fear of death had been lost on her somewhat. "Call for reinforcements and prepare the Mikuru Beam. Attempt to focus fire on the lead Humanist Union ship."
The Haruhiist scouts were clearly at a disadvantage against the rest of the Humanist Union fleet. For every nuclear torpedo or coilgun volley the KyoAni lobbed at the New London, five missiles and railgun barrages impacted against its shields. In short order, the battleship's shields gave way, and Humanist Union ordinance started tearing into its fuselage. Captain Narumi did not hesitate to give the order to abandon ship, and the surviving crew followed; she returned the salutes of the bridge personnel as they filed past her on the way to the escape pods.
"It has been a honor serving with you as well," the captain whispered to herself once the last of the other officers had departed the bridge. With the rest of the ship's operations placed on automated control and "God knows..." by Aya Hirano playing on the channels, she pressed a button on the armrest of her command chair, bringing up a screen and keyboard; typing away, she commenced final preparations for firing the Mikuru Beam. "Watashi tsuite iku yo, donna tsurai sekai no yami no naka de sae, kitto anata wa kagayaite, koeru mirai no hate, yowasa yueni tamashi kowarenu youni, my way kasanaryu, ima futari ni God bless..."
Before firing the Mikuru Beam, however, Captain Narumi decided to deliver one final "fuck you" to Vice Admiral Ferguson. Opening a channel, she defiantly cried out "Heil Suzumiya!" before pressing a button on her keyboard, simultaneously closing the channel and firing the Mikuru Beam. A high-yield antimatter cannon roared to life and discharged its deadly payload towards the New London in the form of a massive particle beam. At that same instant, a Union railgun barrage struck the KyoAni's unshielded bridge, obliterating it along with Captain Narumi. She would never know whether the Mikuru Beam had succeeded in striking the New London.
Meanwhile, the remnants of the Haruhiist scout fleet continued putting up a fight against the Humanist Union task force. The Hiranos tried to focus their efforts against the twin 255s, while the Lees attempted to combat the seven remaining 121s. However, their efforts were confounded by the defensive screen put up by the Wolves, as coilgun volleys punched against shields and nuclear torpedo barrages were decimated by point-defense guns before they could reach their targets; the Lees' own defensive suites were overworked as they attempted to screen the Hiranos, and one of them eventually succumbed to overwhelming enemy fire. The odds were clearly against them, but they would not remain that way for very long.
Haruhiist dreadnought Hare Hare Yukai
Edge of Humanist Union space (Haruhiist-Union Skirmish Site 1)
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
Fleet Admiral Ito had arrived too late to save the scout fleet, as the Hare Hare Yukai and its entourage had dropped out of hyperspace at the same moment the KyoAni and one of the Lees fell. She had no time to focus on this loss, however, as she rapidly worked up the will to continue issuing commands to the remaining ships. "Reroute power to defensive arrays, sensors, and weapons! Order the Hiranos to focus their fire on the Broadswords! Tell the Lees to swarm the remaining Stilettos! Get our surviving KyoAni to take down that fucking battlecruiser! I'll mop up anything remaining standing! And for Haruhi's sake, get the rest of the fleet down here! We won't be losing any more ships today!"
With the Yukai providing covering fire, the now-rejuvenated Haruhiist scout fleet advanced in response to Fleet Admiral Ito's orders; with sensor superiority restored, they were free again to resume using precision weapons. The KyoAni's sister ship, the Bandai Entertainment, avenged its destruction by firing a Mikuru Beam antimatter blast at the New London, following it up with a combined coilgun and torpedo barrage. The four Hiranos present ganged up on the twin Broadswords, their precision guns and missiles cutting into the enemy cruisers' own offensive weaponry. Nine Lees found themselves squaring off against three Stilettos; the destroyers swarmed the larger cruisers like gnats, attempting to pierce their weak points with nukes and DU slugs.
With the other Haruhiist ships occupied, the Yukai was left to sweep up the seven remaining 121s. It was a tedious process, as the dreadnought's gunners constantly found themselves recalculating targeting solutions on the fly in order to strike the significantly smaller destroyers; while they did manage to nail one of the Wolves with coilguns and proximity nuke blasts, there were still six of them in an appreciable state of operation, and they still posed a threat to the Haruhiist fleet as long as they were flitting about.
Edge of Humanist Union space (Haruhiist-Union Skirmish Site 1)
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
"Is that Type 89 actually trying to ram us?" Captain Christine Grace asked incredulously.
"Looks like it is," a weapons operator replied. "Should we just blast it now?"
"Sure," Captain Grace shot back. "Fire a torpedo at it."
One of the nuclear torpedoes sent towards the Radiant Dawn changed course in mid-flight and veered off towards the Type 89, its targeting functions overridden by the Hirano's weapons operators. A weapon purpose-built to smash through the shields and armor plating of a capital ship would have no problem annihilating a civilian freighter; in a textbook example of overkill, the warhead connected with the freighter's thrusters and detonated, the resulting shockwave ripping the ship to shreds. The Hirano's shields glowed a dim blue as shrapnel from the explosion harmlessly impacted against them.
Captain Grace was about to heave a sigh of relief when she was forced to draw it back in. The rest of the Humanist Union task force dropped in just beyond the edge of the scouts' interdiction field, guns blazing as they advanced towards the Haruhiists. After taking a moment to regain her composure, she started barking out more orders. "Redirect fire from the Radiant Dawn and Sentinel to the new arrivals! Order the Lees to activate their defensive arrays! Tell the boarding crews to sortie now!"
The operators frantically pounded at their consoles, relaying orders and information to the appropriate destinations. Boarding shuttles streamed forth from the Haruhiist ships in an attempt to overtake the Radiant Dawn and Sentinel as DU penetrators and nuclear missiles streaked forth to greet the rest of the Humanist Union task force.
Haruhiist battleship Kyoto Animation
Edge of Humanist Union space (Haruhiist-Union Skirmish Site 1)
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
From the moment the Humanist Union fleet dropped into realspace, Captain Narumi realized that she was fucked. Nevertheless, she and the rest of the KyoAni's crew were not going to go down without a fight. As the rest of the bridge personnel calmly recalculated targeting solutions, the captain opened a channel to the 340 class battlecruiser New London in order to deliver a short message to Vice Admiral Ferguson. "Your destruction is the will of the Goddess, and we are Her instruments," she said calmly and purposefully, a slight grin perceptible through the tinted glass of her spacesuit visor, even in the poor lighting conditions aboard the ship.
Once the channel had been closed, Captain Narumi went back to issuing orders in her usual calm voice; the fear of death had been lost on her somewhat. "Call for reinforcements and prepare the Mikuru Beam. Attempt to focus fire on the lead Humanist Union ship."
The Haruhiist scouts were clearly at a disadvantage against the rest of the Humanist Union fleet. For every nuclear torpedo or coilgun volley the KyoAni lobbed at the New London, five missiles and railgun barrages impacted against its shields. In short order, the battleship's shields gave way, and Humanist Union ordinance started tearing into its fuselage. Captain Narumi did not hesitate to give the order to abandon ship, and the surviving crew followed; she returned the salutes of the bridge personnel as they filed past her on the way to the escape pods.
"It has been a honor serving with you as well," the captain whispered to herself once the last of the other officers had departed the bridge. With the rest of the ship's operations placed on automated control and "God knows..." by Aya Hirano playing on the channels, she pressed a button on the armrest of her command chair, bringing up a screen and keyboard; typing away, she commenced final preparations for firing the Mikuru Beam. "Watashi tsuite iku yo, donna tsurai sekai no yami no naka de sae, kitto anata wa kagayaite, koeru mirai no hate, yowasa yueni tamashi kowarenu youni, my way kasanaryu, ima futari ni God bless..."
Before firing the Mikuru Beam, however, Captain Narumi decided to deliver one final "fuck you" to Vice Admiral Ferguson. Opening a channel, she defiantly cried out "Heil Suzumiya!" before pressing a button on her keyboard, simultaneously closing the channel and firing the Mikuru Beam. A high-yield antimatter cannon roared to life and discharged its deadly payload towards the New London in the form of a massive particle beam. At that same instant, a Union railgun barrage struck the KyoAni's unshielded bridge, obliterating it along with Captain Narumi. She would never know whether the Mikuru Beam had succeeded in striking the New London.
Meanwhile, the remnants of the Haruhiist scout fleet continued putting up a fight against the Humanist Union task force. The Hiranos tried to focus their efforts against the twin 255s, while the Lees attempted to combat the seven remaining 121s. However, their efforts were confounded by the defensive screen put up by the Wolves, as coilgun volleys punched against shields and nuclear torpedo barrages were decimated by point-defense guns before they could reach their targets; the Lees' own defensive suites were overworked as they attempted to screen the Hiranos, and one of them eventually succumbed to overwhelming enemy fire. The odds were clearly against them, but they would not remain that way for very long.
Haruhiist dreadnought Hare Hare Yukai
Edge of Humanist Union space (Haruhiist-Union Skirmish Site 1)
Day 2, Week 1, Turn 1
Fleet Admiral Ito had arrived too late to save the scout fleet, as the Hare Hare Yukai and its entourage had dropped out of hyperspace at the same moment the KyoAni and one of the Lees fell. She had no time to focus on this loss, however, as she rapidly worked up the will to continue issuing commands to the remaining ships. "Reroute power to defensive arrays, sensors, and weapons! Order the Hiranos to focus their fire on the Broadswords! Tell the Lees to swarm the remaining Stilettos! Get our surviving KyoAni to take down that fucking battlecruiser! I'll mop up anything remaining standing! And for Haruhi's sake, get the rest of the fleet down here! We won't be losing any more ships today!"
With the Yukai providing covering fire, the now-rejuvenated Haruhiist scout fleet advanced in response to Fleet Admiral Ito's orders; with sensor superiority restored, they were free again to resume using precision weapons. The KyoAni's sister ship, the Bandai Entertainment, avenged its destruction by firing a Mikuru Beam antimatter blast at the New London, following it up with a combined coilgun and torpedo barrage. The four Hiranos present ganged up on the twin Broadswords, their precision guns and missiles cutting into the enemy cruisers' own offensive weaponry. Nine Lees found themselves squaring off against three Stilettos; the destroyers swarmed the larger cruisers like gnats, attempting to pierce their weak points with nukes and DU slugs.
With the other Haruhiist ships occupied, the Yukai was left to sweep up the seven remaining 121s. It was a tedious process, as the dreadnought's gunners constantly found themselves recalculating targeting solutions on the fly in order to strike the significantly smaller destroyers; while they did manage to nail one of the Wolves with coilguns and proximity nuke blasts, there were still six of them in an appreciable state of operation, and they still posed a threat to the Haruhiist fleet as long as they were flitting about.
Last edited by Shinn Langley Soryu on 2008-01-23 06:23pm, edited 1 time in total.
I ship Eino Ilmari Juutilainen x Lydia V. Litvyak.
Phantasee: Don't be a dick.
Stofsk: What are you, his mother?
The Yosemite Bear: Obviously, which means that he's grounded, and that she needs to go back to sucking Mr. Coffee's cock.
"d-did... did this thread just turn into Thanas/PeZook slash fiction?" - Ilya Muromets[/size]
Stofsk: What are you, his mother?
The Yosemite Bear: Obviously, which means that he's grounded, and that she needs to go back to sucking Mr. Coffee's cock.
"d-did... did this thread just turn into Thanas/PeZook slash fiction?" - Ilya Muromets[/size]
-
Darkevilme
- Jedi Council Member
- Posts: 1514
- Joined: 2007-06-12 02:27pm
- Location: London, england
- Contact:
Makay sector
The colony world seemed in good condition, though closer inspection reveals the scars of selective orbital bombardment marring its surface. In orbit floats a large ringlike station, though only partially completed with the glints of welding shining on its black shell.
The two squadrons of cruisers moving themselves to keep pace with the BETAC battlegroup and hold their positions either side of them.
On the planet itself the government decides to lie, about everything.
To: BETAC command ship
From: Leadership of Makay
Transmission begins:
We have no record of any such vessel since the fall of the empire are you sure they were not mistaken as to there location? The aid you offer is tempting but we have decided in light of our newfound independence to strive without outside help, for that earned with the sweat of our brow we will cherish a hundred fold compared to the handouts of those more fortunate.
The Claw Eternal
“Commend Chesska on that when this is over.” Melusine smiles, that had been some quite good improvisation, hopefully it’ll throw the cattle. “But i doubt they're gonna buy it, bring the fleet to full readyness just in case. We may need to intervene." Though it'll screw up the duping of Kushwani if we do....
The colony world seemed in good condition, though closer inspection reveals the scars of selective orbital bombardment marring its surface. In orbit floats a large ringlike station, though only partially completed with the glints of welding shining on its black shell.
The two squadrons of cruisers moving themselves to keep pace with the BETAC battlegroup and hold their positions either side of them.
On the planet itself the government decides to lie, about everything.
To: BETAC command ship
From: Leadership of Makay
Transmission begins:
We have no record of any such vessel since the fall of the empire are you sure they were not mistaken as to there location? The aid you offer is tempting but we have decided in light of our newfound independence to strive without outside help, for that earned with the sweat of our brow we will cherish a hundred fold compared to the handouts of those more fortunate.
The Claw Eternal
“Commend Chesska on that when this is over.” Melusine smiles, that had been some quite good improvisation, hopefully it’ll throw the cattle. “But i doubt they're gonna buy it, bring the fleet to full readyness just in case. We may need to intervene." Though it'll screw up the duping of Kushwani if we do....
Last edited by Darkevilme on 2008-01-24 06:31pm, edited 2 times in total.
Deep Space
Transcript of captain's ship-link conversation onboard Scoutship Summertime
Ship Time 15:31:17:389 - 15:31:17:871
"What is that?"
The source of the interdiction field. It also appears to hold numerous military-grade vessels, including an Imperial battleship, heavily damaged. In fact, most of the ships in there are heavily damaged.
"A graveyard, then?"
Yes, that would be a fitting description. The gravity field appears to be holding the graveyard together, and manipulating the cloud also.
"Reminds me of home, only with less derelicts."
Analysis of the cloud indicates - Alert. Weapons signatures detected, they are powering up weapons. There, that flash, something just fired. Consistent with an Imperial Navy Medium Laser, late mark.
"Suggestions?"
Run. We cannot win in a fight, and we are far from support. We are, however, faster than most of the hostile ships, and outside the interdiction field.
"What do the others think?"
All concur. Orders acknowledged. Retreating at maximum speed.
-----
The CSC scout fleet turned tail and fled, vastly outgunned by the strange ship graveyard. The courier joined them, and covered the fleet with its screening field, deflecting several shots. Then, the battleship fired its main weapons, punching through the screening and tagging a frigate barely in range. The shot vaporized half the ship instantly, blowing the rest of the ship into several large pieces on wide trajectories. Before anyone could react, more shots hit the fragments, completely obliterating the pieces, killing all onboard with a flash of heat and basic forces.
As the remaining ships fled, they charged their hyperdrives and prepared to escape into the safety of an alternate dimension.
Transcript of captain's ship-link conversation onboard Scoutship Summertime
Ship Time 15:31:17:389 - 15:31:17:871
"What is that?"
The source of the interdiction field. It also appears to hold numerous military-grade vessels, including an Imperial battleship, heavily damaged. In fact, most of the ships in there are heavily damaged.
"A graveyard, then?"
Yes, that would be a fitting description. The gravity field appears to be holding the graveyard together, and manipulating the cloud also.
"Reminds me of home, only with less derelicts."
Analysis of the cloud indicates - Alert. Weapons signatures detected, they are powering up weapons. There, that flash, something just fired. Consistent with an Imperial Navy Medium Laser, late mark.
"Suggestions?"
Run. We cannot win in a fight, and we are far from support. We are, however, faster than most of the hostile ships, and outside the interdiction field.
"What do the others think?"
All concur. Orders acknowledged. Retreating at maximum speed.
-----
The CSC scout fleet turned tail and fled, vastly outgunned by the strange ship graveyard. The courier joined them, and covered the fleet with its screening field, deflecting several shots. Then, the battleship fired its main weapons, punching through the screening and tagging a frigate barely in range. The shot vaporized half the ship instantly, blowing the rest of the ship into several large pieces on wide trajectories. Before anyone could react, more shots hit the fragments, completely obliterating the pieces, killing all onboard with a flash of heat and basic forces.
As the remaining ships fled, they charged their hyperdrives and prepared to escape into the safety of an alternate dimension.
-
Thirdfain
- The Player of Games
- Posts: 6924
- Joined: 2003-02-13 09:24pm
- Location: Never underestimate the staggering drawing power of the Garden State.
Pahang National Preserve
Godwin's Hope
Imperial Province of Makay
The dense rainforests which covered much of the Makayan eastern continent's highlands interior had been the source of much consternation and debate in the old Makayan government. On one hand, the land they covered could contain abundant natural resources; on the other hand, environmentalism bought votes and contributions from wealthy activist groups- not the least of which were the asteroid mining conglomorates, who just didn't want the competition. An eventual compromise had granted to protected status to a vast swath of the rainforest while leaving the rest open to exploitation; however, asteroid mining had been far more profitable and most of the expensive clearance projects had lead to nought.
The one worthwhile thing the Green Anarchists did for the Revolution thought Heeren Locke. It was into that vast, tractless wilderness that so many rebels had been able to escape. There were old communities out there, colonists who had been in only minimal contact with the pre-invasion government. There were forested mountain ranges, riddled with limestone caves, and old game trails along which men and weapons could be moved, slowly and painstakingly, more often by goat than by truck.
It was the very primitiveness of the National Park which made it the perfect place from which to stage some of the most effective cells of the Liberation Army- a National Preserve, for preserving the nation.
It was along one of those ancient game-trails that Locke trudged. There were seventy-four other members in his cell, stretched along the trail, sweating and straining in the heat. Fortunately, it would soon be over. Locke had been a student of literature in the City University before joining the Revolution.
Locke was used to the heat. It had been a long campaign out in the jungle, first against the government, and now, against the Enemy. The Invader. The Mind-Takers. The horrific things which had ended the Revolution as he knew it and replaced it with something far more important- the struggle for humanity itself. Half his cell had been government-loyal not a year before. Now he would lay down his life for them. The sweat and exhaustion, he knew, was almost over- they were almost at the rendezvous point, the place from which the attack would be launched.
The enormity and absurdity of his situation struck him. Here he was, a journalist, trecking through tractless jungle to meet with a bunch of men and women who a year before would have gladly killed him. Here he was, transporting a nuclear device by fucking muleback.
Godwin's Hope
Imperial Province of Makay
The dense rainforests which covered much of the Makayan eastern continent's highlands interior had been the source of much consternation and debate in the old Makayan government. On one hand, the land they covered could contain abundant natural resources; on the other hand, environmentalism bought votes and contributions from wealthy activist groups- not the least of which were the asteroid mining conglomorates, who just didn't want the competition. An eventual compromise had granted to protected status to a vast swath of the rainforest while leaving the rest open to exploitation; however, asteroid mining had been far more profitable and most of the expensive clearance projects had lead to nought.
The one worthwhile thing the Green Anarchists did for the Revolution thought Heeren Locke. It was into that vast, tractless wilderness that so many rebels had been able to escape. There were old communities out there, colonists who had been in only minimal contact with the pre-invasion government. There were forested mountain ranges, riddled with limestone caves, and old game trails along which men and weapons could be moved, slowly and painstakingly, more often by goat than by truck.
It was the very primitiveness of the National Park which made it the perfect place from which to stage some of the most effective cells of the Liberation Army- a National Preserve, for preserving the nation.
It was along one of those ancient game-trails that Locke trudged. There were seventy-four other members in his cell, stretched along the trail, sweating and straining in the heat. Fortunately, it would soon be over. Locke had been a student of literature in the City University before joining the Revolution.
Locke was used to the heat. It had been a long campaign out in the jungle, first against the government, and now, against the Enemy. The Invader. The Mind-Takers. The horrific things which had ended the Revolution as he knew it and replaced it with something far more important- the struggle for humanity itself. Half his cell had been government-loyal not a year before. Now he would lay down his life for them. The sweat and exhaustion, he knew, was almost over- they were almost at the rendezvous point, the place from which the attack would be launched.
The enormity and absurdity of his situation struck him. Here he was, a journalist, trecking through tractless jungle to meet with a bunch of men and women who a year before would have gladly killed him. Here he was, transporting a nuclear device by fucking muleback.
Under capitalism, man exploits man. Under communism, it's just the opposite.
John Kenneth Galbraith (1908 - )
Achaean Space
RAN command
"Sir, it looks like BETAC has decided to make a play in the Makay province. Looks like 5 medium ships and 16 light ships. We've also received notice that a small Kushawani fleet is in the area. Possibly going after trade concessions."
"Very well. Initiate Operation Seelowe."
Achaean Space
Deep Space
"Sir, incoming signal from high command: Primo Victoria."
Admiral Carrera ordered, "Open a channel to all ships of the task force. Captains, open your sealed briefing packets. We're going to Makay. Intelligence has confirmed that it is now controlled by Outlanders. Command has therefore dictated that we free them from tyranny. We sail for Glory and for Death. Victoria One Actual out."
Onboard numerous ships, captains opened their packets, and stuck the chip inside into their computer consoles. Data flickered into the Nav systems.
"All hands, prepare for hyperjump. Repeat, all hands, prepare for hyperjump."
Four line squadrons, preceded by two attack squadrons as fleet scouts, flashed into nothingness, traveling towards the Makay province.
---
Fleet composition:
16x Titan
10x Furtim
2x Furtim-II
RAN command
"Sir, it looks like BETAC has decided to make a play in the Makay province. Looks like 5 medium ships and 16 light ships. We've also received notice that a small Kushawani fleet is in the area. Possibly going after trade concessions."
"Very well. Initiate Operation Seelowe."
Achaean Space
Deep Space
"Sir, incoming signal from high command: Primo Victoria."
Admiral Carrera ordered, "Open a channel to all ships of the task force. Captains, open your sealed briefing packets. We're going to Makay. Intelligence has confirmed that it is now controlled by Outlanders. Command has therefore dictated that we free them from tyranny. We sail for Glory and for Death. Victoria One Actual out."
Onboard numerous ships, captains opened their packets, and stuck the chip inside into their computer consoles. Data flickered into the Nav systems.
"All hands, prepare for hyperjump. Repeat, all hands, prepare for hyperjump."
Four line squadrons, preceded by two attack squadrons as fleet scouts, flashed into nothingness, traveling towards the Makay province.
---
Fleet composition:
16x Titan
10x Furtim
2x Furtim-II
"preemptive killing of cops might not be such a bad idea from a personal saftey[sic] standpoint..." --Keevan Colton
"There's a word for bias you can't see: Yours." -- William Saletan
"There's a word for bias you can't see: Yours." -- William Saletan