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Begin the webstory titled Universal Ascendancy. Here are the rules. I will adjust the rules when I have the correct info.
1. No controllong another player's charactors.
2. Ship construcitons and counts must be updated at least once a week. 2a. Ship contruction rate will be directly proportional to the number of shipyards a planet has. 2b. Ship construction time is incersely proportional to the overall shield and weapon strength and general size of ship. 2c. Ship Construction Rates will be kept in Construction Points, and measured in RTD's. Construction points represent both resorces available and shipyard output. A race's construction points will be constant unless affected by research. Actual points will be posted later. Fighter classes will require 1-5 construction points, depending on strength. Destroyer classes will require 15-30 construction points, " ". Carrier Classes will require 40-60 construction points, " ". Cruiser Classes will require 50-100 Construction points, " ", and will have to be approved by the batle moderator. Dreadnought Classes will have to be approved by the battle moderator BEFORE construction and research begins, but will probably require at least 500 Construction points.
2d. Space Station construction table- For every basic turret slot on a station, 10 construction points are required. Max: 20 (w/o special permission) For every 200 shield points on a station, 10 cp are required. For refueling ability, 20 cp are required. For Outfitting, 50-75 cp are required. For shipyards, 100-300 cp are required.
3. All researching and Technological Advance must be Approved by a Moderator. (Note: Technological Advance counts as any change in: A. Your fleet's Outfitting. Outfitting Project Initiated. Purpose- Remove rockets and launcher from all UE destroyers, and add 1 Hunter Launcher, and +30 Hunter Missiles. ETC(Estimated Time to Completion): 2 RTD's.(Real time days.)
B. An upgrade to current weapon systems. Upgrade Project Initiated. Purpose- Increase the Rate of fire and the Range of standard Blaze weaponry. ETC: 3-6 RTD's. (Again, the more time you spend, the more effective the new design will be.)
C. Development of completely new technology.weapon Research Project Initiated. Purpose- To design a weapon superior to the Blaze cannon in damaging armor, and lighter. ETC: 4+ days. (Yes, 4+, I've been in Webstories where a player took 20 days to develop a weapon. It was horrible for everyone else, but we couldn't complain, since he DID research it fairly...)
3a. For any new weapon/outfit technology developed, Time must be spent seperately on Developing the Technology,and Outfitting it. 3b. All research is to be measures in RTD's, Real Time Days. Effectiveness of a weapon or technology will be directly proportional to the number of days spent. 3c. Time required will be proportional to the race's current technology level in related fields. ie- Azdgari could research a new maneuverability upgrade faster than the Emalgha could. 3d. number of research projects allowed to run at a time: Miranu: 4 Projects (Military offensive projects will be incredibly slow with the Miranu.) Strands: 3 projects NT Renegades, Humans, Voinians.: 2 projects. Human Renegades, Emalgha: 1 project
4. Battles must be fair (To the proportional strength of ships AND the ship count, 200 UE fighters could obliterate the dreadnought.), and as specific as possible. 4a. Ship numbers entering battle must be noted. 4b. Time must be granted for the opponant to react.
5. Standardized Space Travel will be averaged based on the Race's engine advancement. 5a. Jump Speed Chart:
4 Jumps per RTD: Azdgari, Zidigar. 3 Jumps per RTD: Miranu, NT Renegades, Zachit, Igadzra Aradas, Kayans 2 Jumps per RTD: UE, Human Renegades, Voinian Fighters 1 Jump per RTD: Voinian Cruisers and Frigates, Emalgha
<UNDER CONSTRUCTION>
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(This message has been edited by kauthor (edited 03-30-2003).)
OOC: There are to be no more OOC posts in this topic after this one I am making here. All other ones are to be made in the OOC thread.
Eyes of Fire Chapter 1: The Alliance Forms
Zathe ek Daal walked down the garden path that led up to the main meeting hall of the Akrayhek Alliance, the Green Tower. The gardens themselves were an engineering marvelevery plant that lived on Kayia had been brought to the climate-controlled capital and arranged in a spectacular foliage paradise. It was a fitting display, for in Zathes mind it was an excellent symbol of the unity that came from the recent conference.
For years he had worked to gather all the different factions of Akrayheks diverse population into a unified front. Indeed, today would see the first day the elected Leaders met to discuss their recent success.
Zathe ek Daal, Leader of Kayia and Supreme Commander of that world, calmly lit up a cigarette as he walked into the Green Tower and nodded in neutral greeting to the clerk manning the lobbys desk. Walking smoothly along the corridors of the administration building, also lined within its interior with exotic flora, he picked up a public gravitonicoma gravity-powered computerand entered the main conference hall. The three other leaders called out greetings as Zathe seated himself in a flourish of his black Engineer robes.
Alright people, lets get moving. Were the government the people selected, so lets deliver.
Indeed, agreed Researcher Inti. But first, I would request that we hear the proposal of General Kon. General?
What I propose is the following, he began, looking around the table to make sure he had everyones attention. We are a well-disciplined people, we people of Akrayhek. Ever since my Strandless ancestors landed here and made pact with the Kayans, there has always been the necessity of order and strict obedience to hierarchy. Without such action as followed as an effect from such doctrine, our people would have died long ago. We owe it to our ancestors to continue this tradition.
Thus, I advocate the following: we should enlist the entire population in a standing militia.
Interesting idea, commented Admiral Vichama. I support this; if all our people are always ready to fight to defend ourselves, we can no longer fall prey to the loathsome renegades that lurk north of us.
But what of Unobot?
Well address them later. For now, I recommend moving to consolidate our position and gaining the support for the totalitarian military state we plan to create.
Commander Zathe looked up. Keep in mind, we must always work to have the best interest of the people at heart.
Of course.
I do not jest, Admiral, Zathe said coldly. I will not see an oppressive regime rule our people. We owe it to them to be honest and just.
As I said, Supreme Commander, returned Vichama, of course.
/////////////////////////////
Akrayhek Research Directorate Report
Alliance Cloak: The cloaking device that will be developed by the Alliance will work along the following lines, similar to the cloak the UE developed in the actual game. The device will be a one-way cloak: the Alliance can see out through it, but their opponents can not see through the cloak, neither by conventional sight methods nor by sensors, because the cloak works through subspacial means. It will, however, take all power from shields and weapons while operating. Thus, the Alliance cannot fire with the cloak up. Discharging weapons deactivates the cloak. (Begun: 3/30/03 End: 4/6/03)
Akrayhek Construction Guild Report
Voltok: A massive shipyard in orbit around Kayia, Voltok will facilitate the construction of 1 Lazira, 2 Aradas, and 3 Crescent Fighters per RTD. It will also be built with many defensive weapons batteries installed in and around its hull. (Begun: 3/30/03 End: 4/6/03)
------------------ All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king. J. R. R. Tolkien (url="http://"http://www.ambrosiasw.com/cgi-bin/ubb/search.cgi?action=intro&default;=26")The Search Feature(/url)
(This message has been edited by Solel (edited 03-30-2003).)
"After the Humans repelled our species at their Sol system we have been an unstable empire. Not nearly as unstable as the Humans however." The speaker waits for the audience to cease bashing their heads into their chests. "Hopefully the new regime will not be like the last dozen, repeatedly failing at repelling the Humans ," he venomously spits out the word, "or the new threat the Emalghians." The crowd is silent and the speaker continues, "As an Empire whether I fail or succeed, We will not despair, we will not surrender and we will not perish. Glory to the Race!" The first vocal response echoes from the crowd. "Glory to the Race!"
After the speech, the speaker steps down to his chamber. His scales reflect the light in a barrage of violent colors showing his excitement, as well as a touch of fear. His position as Emperor may very well be short lived; no Emperor had survived a decade after taking the throne since the commencement of the Human War. His speechwriter soon enters and they begin to discuss his plans. "Emperor Vonark," she says in a deep husky voice," that speech was delivered perfectly." "Thank you Chatone, it was well written." She gleams orange, Vonark continues before she can speak, "The Empire needs more than words though, the Humans are having infighting, I hear of a Rebel band calling themselves Renegades drop a message in to them." "What shall I tell them Lord Emperor?" "Offer them a gift, the design of our Rockets, and tell them if they respond we could easily find a way to further each others needs." "Sir, if you don't mind me asking, are you sure that is wise? I don't trust these Humans any more than the others." "Neither do I, but we have had millions of casualties since the beginning of the Human War and if we cannot beat them honorably, to save the Race we must give them stronger enemies."
(Message to the Human Renegade leader) "Human," a sweet female voice says, "this is a recording. The Voinian Empire sees you as a potential ally against the dictatorial UE government. We are offering the designs to our turreted rockets, we know with your present ships they will not aid you much. However we are authorized to offer you the designs to our Heavy Fighter and the composition of Dospect armor if you are willing to trade as well. I look forward to our next discussion." (End communication)
Military Projects:
Fighter enhancement: An improvement for a fighter's engines increasing maximum speed, acceleration, and turn rate. (Initiated: 3/30, Completion: unknown)
Voinain Interceptor: This recently developed Voinian vessel - a lighter, cheaper ship than the heavy fighter - is usually only seen patrolling Voinian systems. It is rumoured that this ship, and the heavy fighter, are but the first stages in Voinian plans for fighter development. (Initiated: 3/30, Completion: unkown)
Fleet Distribution: DSN-9418: 30 Carriers 50 Frigates 20 Heavy Fighters
Zator: 16 Cruisers 20 Frigates 20 Heavy Fighters
Dogover: 25 Cruisers 50 Frigates 20 Heavy Fighters
Grentis: 15 Cruisers 40 Frigates 20 Heavy Fighters
Niot: 7 Cruisers 20 Frigates 10 Heavy Fighters
Krraali: 7 Cruisers 20 Frigates 10 Heavy Fighters
------------------ "Paranoia is Life"
General Banon McDougall paced across the floor behind his desk, the pipe between his teeth gently smoking. His office was simple, with one desk, a standard desktop computer unit, a few papers and an ashtray on the desk, and one extra chair, which he didn't always permit guests to use. When there was more then one guest, they would all stand; Banon did not accept favoritism. The room had no windows. Banon continued pacing, and thinking. This was about the only time of day when he could simply pace, and think. Suddenly his computer beeped; Banon was so deep in his thoughts that for almost a minute he didn't notice. Then he did notice. He pressed a button on the built-in console. A live audio channel from...Commander Lia Hardee. "Good day, General," said a woman's voice. "Good afternoon, Lia. What is it?" "Sir - we have received word from Corlan a group from Reaver squadron on patrol in Yandros has disabled a Voinian frigate in a border skirmish. Several destroyers are towing the ship to the R&D; lab as per your orders, though it will take some time (2 RTDs)." "Excellent! That should be all we need. Anything else, Lia?" Banon asked in his hoarse, gravelly voice. "No, sir." Now Banon could get to his point - something he had been thinking about for some time. "Lia, I've talked this over with the Prime Minister, and the House of Parliament has approved - a military station is going to be built in Earth's orbit; we have the required funds, and the equipment, and the manpower. I've already drawn out the blueprint; you can choose someone from your command to oversee the installation of weapons and security systems. Once we've got the Neutron weapons off that Frigate, and know how to make them, we'll be putting Neutron turrets on the station." "I'll get right on it," Hardee said. "Good, good...that'll be all." "Yes, sir." Banon tapped out the ashes of his pipe into the ashtray. The station would be quite a boost, not only to Sol's defenses, but also the blueprints included shipyard and outfitting centers. And now that he had a Voinian warship to work with...It had been a good day.
Construction - Sol Station. Shipyard and outfitting facilities, integrated Hunter missile launchers and Neutron batteries, construction rate of .5 Carriers, 2.5 Destroyers, 4 Fighters per RTD. Begun: 3/30/03 End: 4/12/03
------------------ ESPilot Take a line from any Star Wars movie. Replace certain words with 'spank': "The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Spank." "Queen Amidala is young and naive; you will find spanking her not too difficult." "And what of the Jedi?" "She should never have brought them into this. Spank them immediately."
(This message has been edited by ESPilot (edited 03-30-2003).)
Well why not: Feel free to skim. The he and me in the tale is Azmaha
"Azmaha?" Called his servent "yes" croaked he "do you need anything?" "no leave me in peace" Peace that word seemed to have another meaning. He searched his memory to a time 500 years ago when I was a little boy he thought My parents used that word often He let his mind wonder remembering his first ride on an Azdara. *many years ago the azdgari was an infant nation that had just won independence from that mysterious body called the council. In return the Azdgari kept Cresent Station from deteriorating. He had often wondered about the council, the station, and the beginning of the Azdgari. When he was only 150 years old he had traveled to the other side of Azdgari to the great record. The great record was a place where the Azdgari kept all their information and history. He searched the records but found little information before he was born. He asked the Overseer on duty about it. She said that the Azdgari used to be an extremly terbulant race where innerfighting was commonplace and the word home had no meaning. Families flew around in ships that were very primitive. "How primitive?" I inquired she told me: "they were, well I think we have one in the bunker downstairs" I followed her into a magnet tube down several section until we came into what looked like an old bomb shelter. I walked around the ship observing it. It was smaller than a cresent fighter and looked like it was made out of the same material that children played with. "It was called a krait, they were extremly uneffective but they satisfied our need for blood" The Overseer said. "How come there aren't any flying (even though I had stayed on Azdgari for most of my life I watched the space port on breaks from tutoring) I have never noticed one land anywhere before." "She told me that no one knew how, or wanted to make them...." "Weren't there any left?" I butted in most rudely. "Let me tell you the story" she said in a forgiving voice. The krait design was given to us by the council in hopes that we would use it for peaceful traveling, up until that time our ships were falling apart and space travel was very dangerous. The council wanted us to expolore and trade in the galaxy as well as keep Cresent Station in good repair. For the first 20 years their plan worked. We used the kraits to contact the Zidagar and other races. We made temporary treates with them and traded for materials that Azdgari could not produce. Soon though old family fued stirred up and using this new weapon a civil war broke out on Azdgari between the two biggest families: the Azdmashara and the Zedras. Other people fled Azdgari and moved to the sorrounding planets of Veltes, Dames, and eventually Xarnes. The whole nation was incapacitated by this recent blood fued. The fued may have lasted for ever according to many historians if a single event had not changed the course of destiny. Approximately 40 later a band of foreigners who called them selves Renegades came and landed on the planet of Xarnes. They said they were traveling around the galaxy and wanted to stop for fuel. The Azdgari's welcomed these newcomers with hospitality because they had never know war with outisders. The Renegades then shelled the capital building in Xarnes and then the information building on Azdgari (The place where all records and ship building plans were kept). Panic broke out. Poeple scrambled and fled and the fued stopped. The two sides, the Azdmashara and the Zedras, decided that it owuld be eaiser to carry on the fued if these renegades were not distrubing out people so they sent all their kraits out to fight the ships. The enemy had ships far superior so the combined forces had a tough time keeping for being slaughtered. The Azdgari pilots were skilled and put up a fight but years of inner strife had worn down the family and fleet number and they were simply out gunned. One by one the Kraits fell to the marauders until there was only one disabled ship left. They captured it and took it with them and continued on their way. 700 Azdgari's had died that day and their ability for space travel had been demolished. The family fued died and the Azdgari remade itself from divided families into one unified nation. A system of government was demended to keep such things from hapening again. The system consisted of 11 members of a Council of Elders which governed the laws of the Azdgari and kept the peace between families (which mixed anyway). The ocuncil elected a head of the Azdgari who held a veto and was close to a solitary leader of the Azdgari. The Elders were popularily elected by the people when ever one died. The next 700 years were the golden age for the azdgari. THey found that if they trained men in the way of hand to hand combat then they were safe from attacks fromt eh Renegades, Igadzra, and the Zidagar. During this time the Azdgari race developed the Azdara and the Azdgari Warship. (The Azdgari Adra came later.) The Azgari explored and made contact with the Miranu and many civilizations in the galaxy. This was also the time of the great expansion where the system of Azdgari could no longer hold all of the people. The Azdgari are nomadic ever since the family fued and had no porblam colonizing other worlds. They colonized all of the systems that they have at this time: Muid, Toi, Molar, Chak, Meagh, Diudir, Muid, Raigar, and Apert. The Azdgari also started going on the offensive instead of just defending all the time like they were used to. They found that they were very good at conducting raids and ever since that has been a part of Azdgari culture. The dreams of Azdgari children migrated from being the leader of the Council of elder to becoming a raider. This dream was helped by the fact that one could become a raider after only 5 years of training compared to 100 years for the council. (see bottom of page^^^) She (The overseer) tutored me for a total of 10 hours on the history of the Azdgari. I then went about my life until I was 200 years of age the great Zidagar offensive happened. They got all the way to Azdgari before our ships were able to stop them. But before they gave up they ejected 30 lethon gas pods onto our homeworld rendering it toxic withing days. I was one of the last ot leave. Ahh I remeber that well, my family left and then the police, the government, many of the records, and finally the last remaining decendents of the Azdmashara left. I climbed into an Azdara right before a deadly cloud enveloped the space port. The Azdgari are definately a nomadic race as that Overseer told me. People hardly batted an eyelash at having to migrate to other worlds. I was upset though, I chuckle, I did not want to leave my homeworld and I vowed to avenge my beleoved planet. As luck would have it my dream came true and I was elected into the council at age 300. People were suprised that I was still alive. Many of my brothers and sisters had died and my parents were long dead. I eventually became the leader of the Council of Elders. Hmm, me thinking fondly I remember that time I poured vanilla coke on the newest elder for not voting with me on a healthcare vote. I searved there for many years overseeing many battles. Think for a long time about various memories of the council. Infact I served up until yesterday when I became ill, very ill. What a pity I thought that I should fall ill on my 500th birth day. Actually, hmm "Servant" I croakaly called into the voice transmitter "Yes Azmaha" - "I know that are scientists on Xarnes are smart but they have never made anything better than vanilaa coke, don't you agree?" "Uh, Yes Azmaha"- "Well then, stirr your stumps. I would like one before I pass on into the next life, and for the sake of the Azdgari people be quick about it" "I am coming Azmaha" *I died then before I got my last sip" The voice recorder picked up his last words: "Long live the Azdgari" And his last thought he wrote down was a quote from one of his favorite generals: "Chaos is our ally discipline our mortal foe." And what a chaotic 500 years it has been but I was lucky to see the Azdgari rise to power. --- The Azdgari had lost a veteran Azdgari leader and a week of morning followed. Azdgari religion is very lose and is meant to be interpreted by each indevidual uniquely but it allowed for an after life. The Azdgari elected a new leader of the council; suprisingly the newest member, an interesting fellow born on Muid, called Gordontron. He was elected by his belif that the Azdgari should no longer be looked on as a weak race because our planets are spread out but we should be looked on as a strong race that is able to think outside the box to survive and thrive anywhere in the galaxy (run on I know) (if you actually read all of that good for you)
(^^^Azdgari's usually live up to 300 years, but many die in combat, they go to general schooling until age 30, then they go to defense and flying class until age 32, they then can take courses in their areas of interest, they can reproduce at age 30. The Azdgari have always valued knowledge and family since the great family fued.) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If you find any errors feel free to tell me. I know the above is not organized the best but I don't feel like re writing it.
Research- All initiated on 30/3/03 ----A shield generator which is faster than the experimental one you can get in the game )finished on march 6th? open to debate ---- A heavy Azdara which has the tech listed below, is slight bigger and slower, carries the new shield generator, and is outfitted with voinian armor (if I can get that to happen), and of course a few swivel phase cannons. )Date finished unknown, parly relying on whether or not paranoid is feeling like sharing tech ----Kind of a cloacking device because its almost impossible to target but you can still fire through it (think wraith in evn) and fire at it. Think of this as an advance jamming system rather than a cloak because eventhough it slowly drains fuel you can still fire at it and speratically see it. )Finished on the 8th, or do you think it should be later?
I am not sure how to go about the construction projects but I have some in mind but I don't think we are doing those now
------------------ "Chaos is our ally, discipline our mortal foe" --Azdgari Commander Long live the Azdgari!
"Rarely is the question asked: Is our children learning?"- George Shrub
(This message has been edited by Gordontron (edited 03-30-2003).)
Gordontron is in the middle talking with the Council of Elders: "I know, I know" me "That we are currently reserching new technology but we have extra resouces to spare" "No we don't" an old no man called Dunglack "And moving along I think that we can also explore our galaxy" "our outposts in the galactic north west and south are not the edge of the galaxy in case you have forgotton" "I purpose we hire some explorers either Miranu's couriers which could explore far for us or an independet captian caled Cresent if she is willing, who stopped here for fuel and rest a few years back" "With that I conclude this meeting and I would like you to deliberate on that purposal" ---- The next game day in a great mess hall: "Sire" Azmara the rest of the Council Of Elders has decided that we like your purposal and all of us, well except for Dnglack, gave our purposal on your plan" me "Excellent I will make the necisarry arange ments"
----------------
actions: -Upgrade the Azdgari Warships with shield capcitators and making ready for new shield generators: time 2 RTD'S -Outfitting Cresent station with two phase turrets, a refilling station, and office space for government officials: time 3-4 RTD'S (the station is stable and you can land on it plus it is close to Azdgari) -Send out 2 miranu scoutships to report back when they have found a race that we do not know about -Send messages to Cresent: "On behalf of the Azdgari govenment we invite you to Xarnes to discus a mission with the Leader of the Council of Elder, gordontron. -Send a message to Apert and Raigar telling them to send out Azdara's outfitted with fuel scops to explore the galaxy -Distribute ships equally except for Azdgari wich contains twice as many ships as any other system (I you attack me I will do the math to determine how many ships in each system) -Construct a listening post on the planet Dirach 1 RTD ships: (It is 10% per RTD right) -Xarnes to build 5 Azdgari warships (instead of ten) this RTD (to pay for station construction, explorers,listenig post and research starting) -Production 0f 25 Azdaras and 25 Azdgari Aradas Is that how we are supose to post about constructiona and ships. I will not be able to check back until later.
The Zachit has been fighting renegades in the North Tip for a long time. Nobody know how long the Zachit has been fighting the NT renegades. The Miranu hired the best pilots they could find and put the pilots in the Zachit Force fighting the renegades. This was how the Zachit got started.
Their primary station in the North Tip is Outpost Zachit. Right now, all the Zachit have for their own ships is their own variants of Aradas and Fighters. The war between the NT Renegades and the Zachit has been at a stalemate until now. Begin the story.
As a renegade crescent fighter was killed, the arada' crew almost cheered until a renegade Crescent Warship jumped into the system where the arada was and destroyed the arada. This was how the war was like in the North Tip.
Meanwhile, at Outpost Zachit, a group of people was having a meeting discussing the renegades again. Commander Kirk Staley was at the head of the table listening to the meeting. Kirk was 5'11 with emerald green eyes. His eyes looked like they have been through a war. He was wearing a blue uniform with a military style hat on his head. He had long brown hair that went down to his neck. The shoes he had on was black boots. He was strong physically and mentally with his body. He trained everyday by working out in his own personal gym for 2 hours in the morning at 5am. The meeting was about the renegades.
No one was happy in the North Tip, because every week, there was always a planet in the North Tip being attacked by renegades. The people's morales were low.
Kirk's advisor named Paul had a good suggestion. Paul was 5'10 with black hair. He had black eyes that was totally black. He was in a good shape physically. Paul said, "Why don't we send an envoy to the Zidagar Race on Pozdag-3?"
The room that they were having the meeting in was covered with glasses that keep their voices in the room from being leaked out of the room. There was a 15 feet long table in the room. The table was brown with borders of black. The meeting consisted of Kirk & Paul and Kirk's Advisors.
The Commander's advisors were people that was best friend with the Commander and each advisor had his or her own specialty.
Kirk said, "Well, the Zidagar never likes renegades. Send an envoy to Pozdag-3 to enlist their help." The advisors agreed on this. They will need all the helps they can get again the NT Renegades.
Kirk said, "Meeting adjourned. Paul, walk with me. The rest of you, go to work like normal."
Everyone got out of the meeting room and the last people that came out were Kirk and Paul. "Paul, I have been considering something. We have been using aradas and fighters since this force got started. Why don't we go one step beyond?"
Paul said, "What do you mean?" He said, "What I mean is that we can start research on our variant of Lazira." Paul said, "That is definietly agreeable."
Research and Stuff
Zachit Lazira Research 3 RTD. The specs of the Lazira is back at my father's office, but I will have the specs.
Envoy to Pozdag-3 1 RTD.
OOC: I know I am not supposed to post another OOC but this is more of a don't hurt me. I am truly sorry if I call your race a bunch of idiots, I mean no offence
"People of the Zidagar nation" I shout. "We are gathered here together to acknowledge the beginning a new nation" I shout, questioning my voice. "The new Republic of the Zidagar!" The crowd erupts with cheers; I wait for the pestilent swine to end their outrageous outcry of joy. "However we will need to unite, to bring our enemies to their Knees!" I had already lost my head. Where was I heading with this? This massive speech was killing me; public speech was always my weak point. "However we will need your help! We need you to join the cause in the crescent war we have troops but we cannot win as few we will need mind, heart, and spirit. So in anyway you can help us to bring our savage enemies to the ground to protect our homeland from evil." What is this crap? I have lost it right here I am mad, I have lost my mind and I am dreaming about being the ruler of the Zidagar. Nevertheless, this is reality I have not lost my head and I must give them a satisfactory conclusion to this tale I mean nightmare. I do however sound like the most moronic idiotic stupid leader this world has come to known. "I as your leader will win and keep you and your family safe with your help. I then leave the stage to hear an uproar of clapping and screaming. "Well at least they like it, sir" "How could they, I have heard eels give better speeches then that!" " It did make you sound like you had a lack of IQ" "See!" "How many of them were there?" I asked "Around everyone in the Zidagar nation and a few spies" "Good, How many males?" I inquire further "No idea some of them dye their plume colours" "How many?" I am now a little aggravated at this man "I said I ." "How many?" I cut him off "10-20 billion" "Not on the screen! In the audience!" "700-900" "Good very good" "What do you want with them sir?" "It means that those war enthusiastic idiots will hopefully join the crescent war." "Sir?" "I don't want this war you know that!" "Then why do you want to have more recruits?" "I am truly a sore loser I will not lose to a whole bunch of idiots." "Yes sir"
Fleet Status DSN-6116: 40 Zidagar Fighters Pozdag: 40 Zidagar Fighters Grivok: 40 Zidagar Fighters Vethair: 100 Zidaras Vastan - 50 Zidaras Neholl: 40 Zidagar Fighters Plogok- 50 Zidaras Marafey- 50 Zidaras DSN-682: 40 Zidagar Fighters
Fleet Production
Technology breakthroughs
------------------ Are we sad because it rains or does it rain because we are sad?
OOC: If you're not interested in the renegade history, then skip all the way to the end. Otherwise, get ready to read two pages.
Red waited for the retina scan to commence, and hearing the characteristic whoosh as this particular door opened. The smell of decay and paper hit him as he walked to the center of the room, where there was a single pedestal, with an old hardcover book opened to the first page. It was the history of the Renegades, opened to the first chapter ..
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Here beginneth the Book of the Tales of a Comanaire Folk. Book 1. Origin of the Species
Chapter 1. All were once one. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- When the Strands were barely becoming established on their homeworlds, the Miranu were prospering. Being obsessed with gaining credits and helping their own people to flourish, the Miranu spread through the region as wildfire spreads through a dry Munb prairie. Systems as far north as Hizdriar were heavily populated by the Miranu people. They researched technologies to speed their hyperspace travel, and ingenious ways of constructing stations in space. There wasnt even a miranu definition for words such as theft murder or lies. Soon, however, this all changed. Chapter 2. .Then came the Darkness. Suddenly, as suddenly as the new prosperity had appeared, it fled the lives of the lowest class of people. Greed had brought the upper economic class to extremes. They increased taxes to ridiculous highs, and insisted on monopolies on trade, all run by the government. Communism spread like another wildfire, fueled by the Mir (upper class of citizen) greed, and incinerated all caught in its path. The Zacherica (their police force). developed fighters and weapons with which to exercise their control over the Comanaire (lower working class). The Miranu Trading Conglomerate had a monopoly on trade that could not be overcome- any competitors disappeared from the public eye, never to be heard from again. Chapter 3. The darkness turned to rivers of red A Century after the first instance of communism was begun on Mira, the Comanaire had suffered enough at the hands of the upper classes. They outnumbered the Zachirica and the Mir nearly a hundred to one- and were sure they could win. They had no idea how hard it would be. They managed to stockpile weapons for nearly a decade, taking as much as they could without being noticed. Suddenly, the worst happened. A cluster was caught hoarding. The cluster paniced, confessed, and mass public executions commenced- but instead of breaking the Comanaires spirit, it drove them to act. Chapter 4. That flowed for a mere year Thee Comanaire sabotaged the factories the Mir depended on for their resources. Gave their own lives by the thousands, doing what they could to the Zachirica. It got worse and worse until the Comanaire managed to flee. Millions upon Millions of Comanaire stormed a single station, known as Silverstone. With thousands of Zachirica to defend, it was the stronghold of the entire government, but if they could prevail They might bring a complete revolution. The Comanaire managed to capture several Zachirica weapons and ships, and battered at the station for days, heedless to wave after wave of Zachirica. Comanaire were slaughtered by the dozen, but the Zachirica knew they were outnumbered, so they fell even faster. Soon, all available Zachirica ships were destroyed, along with most of the shipyards. The station was the last obstacle, and although it was an incredible marvel of ingenuity, it fell as well. After weeks without sleep, the Comaire were rewarded when the stations shields fell and the docking clamps were breached by just over a half-million comanaire, but it wasnt over yet. The Mir were slaughtered by the handful whenever they were found. Entire sections of the station were exposed to the vastness of space at the hands of the desperate Zachirica, killing hundreds of Comanaire and Mir at a time. Unfortunately, it wasnt enough, and as the final door to the bunker, deep within the station was broken down, no one knows what the Comanaire found. Apparently the dozens of high-ranking officials were slaughtered like animals, and the Comanaire responsible fell to mental instability from the horror, after they realized what they had done. From just the original 860 trillion Comonaire before the Great Executions, to the 80 Billion after, and the 74 Million in the Battle of Silverstone, under a half million were left. Their leaders were dead. (b)Chapter 5. Before being washed away by time. Over the next 70 years, the Comanaire did what they could to rebuild the station, renamed North Tip And after finding designs for ships such as the Lazira and Crescent Warship, they went to work building a navy. Although they had won the station, theyd been forced to flee their homeworld And they would do whatever was needed to regain control of all of Miranu space... No one spoke of the war, and no one wrote, for the Mir were ashamed of their greed, and the Comanaire did not recognize the Miranu blood that pulsed through their hearts. As the last participants in the war died, The renegades slaughtered miranu by the thousands to gain their land back. The last Miranu sent out a request throughout the entire galaxy. Need help. Will pay 80,000c per day to anyone who will fight for us... The renegades laughed in there face, for there was no one else Or so they thought. Zachirica that had fled decades ago returned. The best pilots from the now-flourishing Strands came to their aid as well, and in honor of the Honorable Zachirica, the Zacha were established to fight the traitor threat. After raiding several planets, the Comanaire were labeled as Renegades, and in the Comanaires mind, the Miranus hatred of them was nothing to be ashamed of Unfortunately, by not telling the story, history died. Records of battles and of the horrors slowly disintegrated or were deleted by the new Zachit force, which were afraid that if the miranu realized they were fighting their anscestors, they would no longer be paid. - ------------------------------------------------------ Redchigh sat back, strained from reading the book ancient book. He closed it without reading all the way to the end. He glanced around, before walking to the door, waiting for the standard retina scan to open the door, then stepping through and closing it. After a second retina scan, a hissing sound was heard as the air was sucked out of the room holding the book, and the seal was restored. After looking down both hallways, Red left to exert his control. Although true, it was a horrible past- one that neither side could be allowed to remember... -----------------------------------------------------------------
Red shook himself out of his daze, and walked over to the computer terminal. He should be in his office, but this was something that was really bothering him.. The defenses of the areas. He enters in his serucity code, and glances over the numbers... Just as he thought. Since there were no raids planned, the fleets were split 60/40 between both the NT and Rock defense fleets...
On a second thought, he gave the R&D; Department orders to build a new warship design... Strong enough to reign over any enemy of the Renegades, Larger than any ship ever built before- Much bigger than a Crescent Warship, and without the bays.
R&D; ------- Research: New Ship Design- Ansatsu Class- Cruiser Description- Twice the size of a CW, and without the bays. Just over twice the guns and shields, and no fighter bay. ETC and Prototype: 20 RTD's Begin: 3/30/03 Completion: 4/18/03
------------------ "And as the Darkness descends, do you follow the light, or embrace the darkness?" ~Diane Kinsman (little known philosopher, early 21st century) Proud Member of the (url="http://"http://www.roostermac.net/cgi-bin/ikonboard/ikonboard.cgi")Webstory Developer's Commune(/url)
Eyes of Fire Chapter 2: Recon
"You're serious."
"Deadly serious. The Unobot Theocracy executed ten million 'heretics' yesterday alone. Their new leader is putting Aldri Alka's record to shame."
"Then we have little choice in the matter. We must move on Unobot to save the innocent Obutan citizens."
Zathe looked at Vichama. "Indeed. We'll have to show them that immorality is punished in the South Tip. But let us not forget the other threat." A holographic map of the South Tip appeared on the main viewplate. "The scum of Mavs still lurk within 2 hyperlinks of us. They'll have to be neutralized too, perhaps before the Theocracy."
"What is your point, Supreme Commander?"
"We wait until our fleets are armed with the cloaking devices. We shall test them on an assault against Histiri Station. Now, let us move on to the matter of Voltok. It will produce an alpha group every week, no?"
"That is correct," agreed Inti, who gestured at General Kon. "The fleets will be augmented by 1 Lazira, 2 Aradas, and 3 Crescent Fighters every galactic standard week due to Voltok's output alone. Our overall production should be increased quite well from this."
General Kon interrupted. "And what of the time when Voltok finishes? What shall we do then?"
"I recommend we expand our researching capabilities. Another facility, deep below the surface, just like Gerec. But we cannot commit to it until the station is complete."
"Of course. But it should not take as much time as the station, since we already know exactly how to build one."
"You see the gist of it. Alright people. Let's call this over and get to work."
"Aye sir."
=======================
Status Reports:
Alliance Cloak: Work progresses smoothly on the multidimensional cloaking device. The fuel-consumption matrices have been successfully designed and implemented into a growing blueprint. Alliance scientists have moved on to the dimensional shifting core, which is expected to take some more time. (Complete on: 4/6/03)
Voltok : The station's superstructure is nearing completion, and the necessary outfits have been acquired. Ship technicians have been enlisted from across Kayia to facilitate efficient fleet construction. (Complete on: 4/6/03)
Constructed over the two days of 3/30 and 3/31: 1 Lazira, 6 Aradas, and 8 Crescent Fighters. 6 Laziras, 31 Aradas, and 48 Crescent Fighters total.
Fleet positions:
3 Laziras, 6 Aradas on High-Alert Patrol in DSN-4611. 5 Aradas, 4 Crescent Fighters on patrol in DSN-5651 3 Laziras, 20 Aradas, and 44 Crescent Fighters on patrol/standby in Akrayhek.
Corlan Vjasha paced the bridge of his flagship and command vessel, the U.E.S. Heimdall. He was old, coming on seventy; even older than General McDougall. It was something he didn't like, taking orders from someone a decade younger than him, no matter his rank or tactical and combat skills. But he had to accept those orders, or be stripped of his rank. His personal escort of six Destroyers hovered around his ship, as he looked down at Verril Prime. His job Reaver Squadron's job was defending that planet and keeping the surrounding systems clear of Voinian ships. "Commander, sir!" said the communications officer, "we've picked up a transmission from Voinian space, it's not encoded " "Play it," Corlan growled. " Human, this is a recording. The Voinian Empire sees you as a potential ally against the dictatorial UE government. We are offering the designs to our turreted rockets, we know with your present ships they will not aid you much. However we are authorized to offer you the designs to our Heavy Fighter and the composition of Dospect armor if you are willing to trade as well. I look forward to our next discussion. " Corlan tapped his boot on the deck, thinking. "Was there any indication of who this message was sent to?" he asked. The comms officer scanned his screen. "Hmm...Ah! Addressed to 'Human Renegade leader'." "I see. Send a message to General McDougall at the Lunicis base and tell him where we picked this message up, with the Voinians' message attatched." "Yes sir."
Banon sat in his chair, looking through a report of the military food supplies judging by the amount of meat served on most ships, the crews would be too weak to repel boarders due to lack of protein within a few years when he received Corlan Vjasha's message. "Ah, now that's interesting...reaching out to the Renegades..." His pipe was, as usual, clenched between his teeth gently smoking. If the Renegades were to get hold of Voinian armor and fighter designs, it would bolster their combat capabilities; not enough to be nearly as much a threat as the Voinians, but it was always the small things that you thought were fine left alone that would come back and bite you in the ass, if left alone. The war between the U.E. and the Voinians was extinguished, except for a few border skirmishes here and there, since the Battle of Sol; he could probably direct most of his attention to the Renegades, and let Vjasha and Hunter take care of the Voinian front they were both competent Commanders, and Vjasha was a veteran from the Battle of Sol like Banon, though Banon had only been a Destroyer captain, and Vjasha a Brigade leader. The Renegades themselves wouldn't be too much of a challenge their ships were weak when they weren't weak and slow, and they were disorganized at best, chaotic at worst, and were based out of 3 systems. Yes, the Renegades would be dealt with. Now, he'd have to send a message to the chief quartermaster about the amount of meat served on U.E. warships. Banon did not want a navy of vegetarians. As he shuffled through various reports on the computer screen, the thing beeped. A message. He opened it up. Addressed to General Banon McDougall, from...Commander Jack Kenneth. A proposal to refit all U.E. Destroyers...it was possible, but it would limit the Destroyer's free space by 20 tons, and it would only be able to hold one forward cannon. And yet...the benifits were to great to dismiss. Soon Banon had sent a message to all U.E. shipyards that the Destroyers were to be refitted as per Kenneth's request.
Project Refit all U.E. Destroyers Two gun slots converted to 1 turret slot, increasing turret max to 4 and gun max to 1. Remove all rockets and rocket launchers. Add one Hunter launcher, fifteen missiles, and one Blaze turret. Begun 3/31/03 End 4/3/03
Patience
The Igadzra. A strange people, to say the least. How and why they got involved in the Strand War is lost even to them, of course, and the few efforts anti-war protestors have made over the centuries to contact the other two Strands have resulted in receptions that make the Igadzra reputation for paranoia pale in comparison, and as such no Igadzra has ever been known to find out, through records or by asking those that they have spent the past few centuries fighting with, why exactly they are doing just that. Many Igadzra cynics (of which there are many in a species of fanatical atheists), in fact, have regarded the Strand War as one of the most hilarious things that could have ever happened to a species that, for the most part, considers itself peaceful and rural. The likelihood is, that at some point in history, there was a unified Igadzra federation which had some part, and likely not one free of guilt, in what began the Strand War. However, if that is the case (which it probably is), then no-one is really willing to expend massive amounts of effort just so they can feel guilty about a few million dead Igadzra. Ignorance, as they say, is bliss.
The strange naivëte of the Igadzra is one of the more peculiar things in the galaxy, unrecognised by ?outsiders?, as they are called. Were an outsider told that once upon a time, the Igadzra had actually been a trusting people, even to a fault, it is greatly unlikely that they would believe you. Indeed, the Igadzra have established such a reputation over the past few centuries, that such a statement would be nothing short of ridiculous. It is, however, true, although the specifics of Igadzra politics and the development of their psyche is a story so long that no Igadzra alive has ever really reached out of his or her apathy long enough to write it. That, perhaps, is one of the most consistent notes about the Igadzra: they really can?t be bothered. If they were presented with a way out of the Strand War, there is no doubting that they would take it (were they assured, that is, of the offer being trustworthy), because regardless of all the Igadzra deaths over the years, the Igadzra have always been the type of people who, when asked whether they would rather fight and die for their country to avenge their lost brother or stay at home, harvest the crops and read a good novel (one of the few novels that have ever actually been finished), would reply quite reliably that they would rather the latter. A frighteningly naďve race, the Igadzra, and a stunningly rational one.
Circumstance, unfortunately, resulted in twenty something billion Igadzra (the figure has, of course, never been tallied, although the Assembly believes it?s somewhere in the region of twenty to fourty billion, or maybe more or less) stuck in a rather bloody war wondering exactly what had got them here, and the disembodiment of the old Igadzra caste system seven hundred and something or other years ago (quite literally: it is one of the few cases of galactic history where apparently contradictory tales of the ancient burial location of powerful rulers aren?t actually all that contradictory), coupled with the firework display made out of the ruling caste?s library, proved not to be helpful whenever they made the effort to find any answers. Obviously, exitting the war at this stage would be rather difficult, so the Igadzra have resigned themselves to the situation, of the belief that, after all, even if the Assembly?s fleets are dispersed, no invaders would ever have the tenacity to actually disturb the farm lives of twenty something billion Igadzra. Particulary since most of them are armed. Probably. Not that anyone?s gone out and checked, even the Assembly aren?t stupid enough to disturb twenty something billion antisocial farmers who stand a rather good chance of being armed with something that might even hurt them.
The Assembly, as every little Igadzra knows, is the military backbone to the Igadzra race, the brave, valiant warriors often referred to in short as ?those goddamn warmongers?, ?power-thirsty big-headed megalomaniacal murderers? and other such complimentary terms. A certain animosity towards one?s military is common. The Assembly sincerely hopes.
Considering how much the Igadzra love the power-thirsty big-headed megalomaniacal murderers that save their meaningless lives on a day to day basis, it is often surprising that people join the Assembly?s ranks at all. Occasionally, though, a genetic rarity occurs: an Igadzra that actually doesn?t really like the idea of spending an entire lifetime in a semi comatose state reading half finished novels about similarly meaningless lives. When this occurs, they often present a great potential (so says the propaganda), and the Igadzra ground forces, vainly referred to as commandos because ?troops? doesn?t quite sound important enough, are the best ground forces in all of, well, Igadzra anyway.
To be fair, however, some of the twenty something billion occupants of the something or other number of Igadzra planets (the average farmer knowing only the name of his planet and the planet he spends his entire life thinking about migrating to) present such a level of prowess, and even appear capable of following orders on occasion, that once in every blue moon, an Igadzra rises from the ostentatious rank of farmer to national militia, to Assembly trainee, to commando, to whatever the individual cell likes to call its officers, and finally to the rank of Assembly member, or agent. Or whatever they like to call it. Igadzran apathy can be bent, never broken. One such character, raised as an Assembly member through the extremely formal process of receiving a handwritten note written in ten seconds from one of the cell commanders who, while idly flicking through a report of commando officers, found someone who caught his eye, was Jalwhin Tämanos. It is highly probable that were Jalwhin Tämanos not, in fact, Jalwhin Samar Tämanos, he would not have been noticed by a cell commander idly flicking through reports. While the Igadzrans are atheistic, and always have been, they have been known to virtually deify entirely real historial figures, and Samar Vraekir being one of the most famous of these, his name was certainly enough to wake an Igadzra cell commander and self-proclaimed historian from the half asleep state two hundred monotonous reports on the progress of commando officers was beginning to have on him.
It was thus that Jalwhin ?Samar? Tämanos, not sure whether to be grateful or spiteful towards his mother for deciding upon that name, sat impatiently on a rather uncomfortable seat in a nondescript waiting room in a nondescript building in a nondescript city on a rather significant Igadzra planet, idly wondering why the Assembly never seemed able to afford comfortable seats. How, after all, could they expect anybody to go in for the chance to become a cell agent when his first experience was spending four hours (which on this rather significant Igadzra planet was, in fact, an entire day) sitting on an uncomfortable seat in a nondescript waiting room next to an old man who wouldn?t stop coughing? If the old man was here for the same reasons as Jalwhin, then he had every right to be extremely concerned about the standard the commander of this cell considered adequate for an agent. Maybe, the old man was called Samar, too.
The door opened. No, not that one, you fool, the other one, the one you came from. It smacked upon against the back wall with a crash, adding to the dent in the surface, and the scratches in the paintwork. It bounded back, only to be kicked back again, making a slightly calmer, more tranquil smash against the wall, sending flakes of paint peeling off. A cell agent stepped through the door. He was not dressed in any particular way that marked him out as a cell agent, although a long black coat, black boots and a black visor that was entirely unnecessary conveyed that this Igadzran had the impression that he was in some way important. The fact that he was entirely comfortable with slamming a door in an Assembly headquarters said something, at least. Although there are people who will dress like that, and act like that, and be nothing more than a farmer with some degree of wealth and a rather larger degree of vanity. No, what told Jalwhin that he was a cell agent, above all, was the look in his eyes, visible over the visor he had raised to his forehead to survey the waiting room coolly. Blue grey eyes, they looked like they spent the vast majority of their time open, not allowing time for blinking. A solemn flame burned in them, which spoke, quite clearly; I have just done murder, I was almost murdered, and now I intend to do some more murder. For anyone to be that cool, that furious, and that sure that they could walk into an Assembly headquarters in a mood to do murder and not find himself in rather a muddle quite quickly, he was a cell agent, or Jalwhin was Zidagar.
The Igadzra that followed was taller, stockier, and dressed like someone who only wore clothes because someone once had told him not to do so wasn?t exactly a very good idea. Jalwhin had no doubt the character he had identified as an agent had numerous weapons under his coat. This one had a shotgun quite visible, strapped under his belt, along with an array of hand grenades and a pulse laser at his other side. His face betrayed something similar to the other one?s: that he had done murder, and almost been murdered, but rather than being in the mood to do a little more murder to round it off, would rather put his feet up, read a good (unfinished) book and perhaps sleep for the equivalent of a week on this planet.
Jalwhin watched with some vague interest as the two agents crossed the waiting room, and the coolly furious one opened the other door, and walked through, having the manners not to slam it behind him before the other could follow. The second Igadzra paused, considering Jalwhin and the old man, who had coughed through the entire episode without noticing them.
?Been waiting long?? he queried Jalwhin with some apparent interest, ignoring the old man. His eyes sparkled with what seemed like bemusement.
?Four hours,? Jalwhin replied simply, not particularly the type to rant on about his problems. Another advantage of the Igadzra philosophy of not being bothered. He met the agent?s eyes calmly. He?d be one one soon, perhaps. In a way typical to Jalwhin, he began to sum the other character up, searching for any weaknesses in him.
The other Igadzra outright laughed. That put Jalwhin off guard. Agents were supposed to never laugh. They were supposed to be strictly professional, humourless, and as cold as a Tamasënian winter (Tamasënia being a region of the planet Igadzra.) More like the first fellow than the second. ?Old boy, patience is a fantastic trait, and you can?t do without it, but nothing will get you further in war than the realisation that people are screwing with you. Constantly.? With a wink, the Igadzra took the door and closed it, leaving Jalwhin to consider exactly what that meant.
Glancing at the old man, he noticed something that might possibly be amusement in his eyes too. Had he done something funny? Then, before he could contemplate this further, the door opened. No, not the one the agents came through. The other one.
?Duhay, you will be seen now,? an Igadzra clerk said. Jalwhin glanced at the old man again. Duhay was another Igadzra legend, and in fact tied in closely with Samar. Samar had waited thirty years planning to overthrow the empire which had consumed his homeland, and when he eventually achieved it, with all his allies slain and standing on the Spire of Tyraces, the highest point in the imperial palace, with the emperor?s bracelet clasped around his wrist and the emperor dead at his feet, his thirty years of planning had proved a wait too long, as the empire he had impossibly conquered was invaded by a neighbouring nation, led by a sickly old man now considered the best military strategist in Igadzra history, Duhay Matsu. Thirty years of undermining the empire had proved enough for Duhay Matsu to raise a force large enough to conquer the empire, and after all his efforts, Samar was slain. Rising to his feet quickly, and quite annoyed, Jalwhin walked to the door where the clerk stood, also looking suspiciously bemused. The old man laughed.
?You?ve waited long enough, I suppose?? the clerk asked in an infuriately polite voice. The old man laughed harder. The clerk had a bemused smile on his face.
?Let me in,? Jalwhin glared, his temper flaring as it rarely did. His embarrassment was swiftly moving to join in.
?With pleasure.? The clerk stepped aside, and Jalwhin left the waiting room after spending a rather short, but horrifically long, day there. The clerk kept his composure for a whole three seconds before he joined the old man in laughter. Time To Act
The rather nondescript office of Ishana Tairanu, who recognised himself better as Gauntlet, his long standing codename, was the epitome of the rather nondescript building that was the headquarters of Cell 12, in the rather nondescript city of Kathal, a sprawling, ?can?t be bothered? style mass of mismatched buildings with wild, untamed plant life dotted around with no sense of order. While many cells had their headquarters in important cities, such as Vora Demais, Cell 12, which was often described since Gauntlet had taken the role of cell commander, as the clown?s cell, preferred its headquarters in a city most people had never heard of, including most self-proclaimed geographers (both historians and geographers could only ever be self-proclaimed.)
The door to his office opened to admit two members of the clown?s cell, dressed with red nose and baggy trousers in bright yellow. Well, perhaps not. Black clad as always, almost as vain as a Zidagar, the one who had been dubbed ?the Notillan Merchant? by the others (mostly because, after all, Notillan merchants were remarked from a vanity and sense of self-importance that was quite contradictory to the Igadzra way) had the look of someone who actually meant business. Well, he usually looked that way, but Gauntlet had the distinct impression that he way probably quite annoyed about the latest mission. The other agent, codenamed Short Fuse, or Fuse for short (the pun was overused), who bore the remarkable ability to go from seeming quite apathetic and passive to exploding violently and often lethally at the slightest reason, followed behind him.
?One political hierarchy lacking a head, two dozen families lacking a man of the house, and I don?t know or want to know how many died in the ?precision? bombing to clear the way to get us out,? Fuse commented icily. ?Why don?t we scrap the diplomacy and just get to the killing people next time, if this is the way it?s gonna? turn out?? The Notillan Merchant even nodded. He must be worked up, to go as far as to nod.
Gauntlet leaned back on his chair. Decidedly uncomfortable, but Gauntlet liked it that way. He didn?t like the possibility that he might fall asleep when he was supposed to be listening to someone or other coming to talk about something or other (the mere thought of the type of droning reports that he was often forced to listen to made him drowsy already), and besides, it was always funny when new applicants arrived with a sore backside. Put them at a distinct disadvantage. Of course, if you were to get uncomfortable chairs for the waiting room, it would be unfair to give comfortable chairs to everybody else, and everybody else unfortunately (as he often noted) included him. The chair wasn?t bad. You could get used to anything. Even these two. ?Did you see a rather young Igadzran in the waiting room?? Gauntlet asked lightly.
?Did at that,? Fuse responded. His frown fell off his face for a moment, as he grinned. ?Same ?ol trick, eh? How long did you keep me in that waiting room, Gauntlet??
?Seven hours, if I remember correctly. Quite hilarious, I thought you?d walk out after two.? Fuse glared. ?And Merchant, you didn?t even bother waiting, did you?? Merchant glared. This was going to be a longer day than he?d expected. ?He?s our new agent. I?ll interview him when he eventually arrives, although I?ve already made up my decision on that matter.?
?Not a bad kid,? mused Fuse, ?though it might take a while before he gets used to things around. Now, you?re avoiding the subject. You sent us in-?
?-on a diplomatic mission. And you shot their president.?
?Twice,? the Notillan Merchant put in coolly.
?Twice,? Gauntlet agreed. ?I don?t dispute the fact it was necessary, I understand they started shooting first, after all... but still, what?s done is done. We can?t just assassinate rulers when they fail to pay war tax a few times, and we can?t invade. I sent in the two best men in this cell, and you didn?t fail me.?
?Sheer luck,? Fuse retorted. ?Put me on a battlefield any day, Gauntlet, but if you send me out with rules about being nice to people until they start shooting at me once more-?
?-you?ll still do it.? Gauntlet was icy calm, to make the Merchant proud. He recognised Fuse becoming angry from a mile off, and decided once again to avert it. It was rather annoying that he, with the highest rank (admittedly joint with numerous others) in the Assembly, had to even bother calming down a subordinate, but Cell 12 had always been like that. The gap between cell commander and cell agent was small. In Cell 12, it was smaller. Gauntlet enjoyed the atmosphere of his cell, but sometimes it could be a pain. ?Haradrin Damos. A highly accredited researcher, Innirian born, living on Igadzra at the moment. Specialises in shield technology. I contacted him earlier about him doing some more specific research, along the lines of preventing Azdaras from regenerating. I just got a reply.?
?And?? the Merchant inquired.
?He says he can do it, and listed half a dozen other names, researchers and engineers, who he?d need to have on his team,? Gauntlet replied. ?And demands eighteen million credits a standard day to develop the device. But he says he can definately do it, and sent me a basic outline of his plan. I already have backing from Cells 3 and 11, we?ve given it the go-ahead.?
?Haradrin Damos,? Fuse muttered. ?I recognise the name. Wasn?t he the one who claimed he could increase shield capacity of ships by 400%, and blew up a Cell 2 Igazra testing it??
?Got it in one,? Gauntlet replied, his face set. They would recognise Haradrin Damos. ?He knows what he?s doing, I?m sure.?
?Look, Gauntlet, I?m not interested in this. I have a problem with-? Fuse begun again. Yes, he was definately getting angry.
There was a rap on the door. Jalwhin Tämanos stood outside, unattended and annoyance evident on his face. As he recalled, when Fuse finally realised that the seven hour waiting time wasn?t serious, he had thrown the clerk across the room, breaking his leg. He hadn?t heard a crash. Perhaps this fellow had knocked him out silently. Or just made it very clear that he should leave. He?d heard no shouting either - the Merchant never raised his voice either. Gauntlet wondered whether Jalwhin would be another Notillan Merchant, or another Short Fuse. Either way, Gauntlet had this sneaking suspicion that this was going to be a very long day indeed.
New tech: Gravity research After research on gravity, new devices can be created. ETA: 4 RTDs
(Will write more later)
Vonark wonders his chamber as he decides what to do to help the Voinians rise to their former power. He contemplates his previous message to the Renegades but decides against sending another, without the Renegade communications frequency the UE dictators will undoubtably get their hands on it. Once again for guidance he looks to the past Voinian rulers heads upon the pikes in his chamber, he almost considers taking up human religion.
"Chatone, will you please give an update on the communication with the human Renegades." "Lord Emperor, no word has reached us but undoubtably the Renegades have read the message, it's only a matter of time." "That doesn't reassure me." "I'm not here to reassure, only to write speeches." Military technology: Interceptors: 1 RTD until completion Fighter tech: 5 RTDs until completion
Silence reigned over the Ragit system. It was if the galaxy had broken off and left it, deserted, with no way in or out. Both the silence and the illusion of separation were broken with a sudden flash of blue and black, as a Crescent Warship appeared, almost as if it came out of nowhere. Had anyone been there to see it, they would have noticed the large, bright blue lettering, positioned slightly above the stripe running from the ships nose to the larger tail part of the ship. The letters, of course, formed the name of the ship, and all those who saw it would remember for a time the name Hyperion. The Hyperion paused in the center of the system, almost in expectation, but after a few minutes, at began to move again, disappointed. Seleria sat silently aboard the ship, both nervous and confused. Tucking a runaway strand of her shoulder length black hair behind her ear, she leaned back in her seat, considering the puzzle that now lay before her. Though undecided about right and wrong pertaining to the Strands, the Humans, and the Voinians, she got a bad taste in her mouth whenever she thought of the renegades, and she enjoyed hunting them down as a pastime, both in the South and North Tips, and never had any trouble finding a few. She had left Mira on a renegade-hunting expedition a few days before, but had not seen anything even resembling a renegade vessel. Just some Miranu traders and quite a few confused Zacha. Seleria sighed, and decided that either the renegades were planning a major raid, not planning anything, protecting an outpost, or that the Zachit were just unusually successful as of late. The renegades must be more organized that she had originally thought. Due to lack of game, Seleria decided to call off her hunt, and brought up Hyperions map on the screen in front of her. Her eyes swept past the various systems, coming to light on the Hatuli system. Thehir. Her home planet. Her childhood had been nothing short of disgusting, with jobs hard to come by, because of constant renegade raids. Both of her parents were unemployed, and usually drunk, leaving Seleria to fend for herself. By the age of seven, she was completely independent. By the age of 14, Seleria knew she had to get out of there. Since she looked a lot older than she was, with a fake ID and pure luck, she was able to get her pilots license four years early, and flew away, never looking back. She was 21 now, and had not returned yet, nor did she regret her decision to leave. A suddent beeping sound coming from Hyperions computer pulled her out of her daydream. A message was coming in, and, eager for anything at all to happen that would pull her out of her boredom, Seleria picked up the transmission.
On behalf of the Azdgari government we invite you to Xarnes to discuss a mission with the Leader of the Council of Elder, gordontron.
Seleria frowned at the computer in front of her and pressed the replay button. Once more the message filled the cockpit. Her first thought was: Gordontron? Never heard of him. The Azdgari must have had a recent change in power. Seleria thought back to the first and only time she had visited the Azdgari home system. Two? No, three years ago. How had this Gordontron remembered her? Due to extreme boredom, Seleria pushed her worry aside and sent a return transmission, making sure to encrypt it due to slight paranoia:
To: Gordontron, Council of Elder I have received your message and will begin travel toward Xarnes shortly. There is no telling when I will arrive, but I will come as swift as it is possible. -Seleria
Seleria punched in the coordinates for Pozdag, for a quick refuel stop, with plans to go directly to Azdgari afterwards. ------------------------------- Destination: Xarnes; 12 jumps away; 3 jumps/RTD = 4 RTD's Begin trip: 03/31/2003 Reach Destination: 04/03/2003
------------------ -Everyone has a photographic memory, just not everyone has film. -Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups. -Great minds think alike but fools never differ.
(This message has been edited by Cresent (edited 04-06-2003).)
Karn grunted. This wasn't going to be fun. Only a day earlier, he had been invited to join some of the leaders and great scientists of the Emalgha to examine a new scientific breakthrough. He had accepted, not knowing that Ssen Tust would be there. Ssen Tust was a captive that had, until just a year ago, lived as a slave under the rule of a Voinian scientist. For some reason, this made him feel better than everyone else, and he always rolled his eyes at Emalgha technologies. He sometimes mentioned that the Emalgha needed to get something better, and then started to ramble on about some project or other he was working on...
After he arrived at the city of Emalghia, Karn Raez, leader of the fabled Squadren 42, checked into a hotel. He then spent an hour getting ready and cursing at himself. He simply hated Tust. The mere name made him angry. Tust was recognised as a brilliant scientist. No one really knew what he was brilliant for, but they cherished him anyway. Every press confrence Tust had ever been in, and this was what really infuriated Karn, he was either drunk, fell asleep at crucial moments of the interview, or just wasn't there.
Time seemed to have gone extreamly fast for Karn up until now. It was mostly just welcomes that he missed, and when time slid back into focus, the confrence group seemed to be talking about the new technology that was supposed to change the history of space travel or something like that. Tust was speaking, and for once, his voice wasn't slurred. This must have been actually important.
"... And you see, the new research on Gravity will change our world and everybody elses. For we have just discovered a new leap in electromagnetics. Within a few weeks, we should be able to lift and entire ships with..." He paused, just to annoy everybody," This." He held up a small, handheld device. It appeared to be a model, because it was a model. After hearing this bit, Raez promptly felt time lapse again. He only payed attention two more occasions after this, in which a reporter had asked him why his squadren was named 42, to which he responded with "Because." The second time was a email from the military directer, telling him to send a member of his squadren in Kelmaon to explore space above Emalgha space. He quickly emailed a rookie pilot and a few intermediate pilots, telling them to check out that area of space with 3 fighters. Then he went back to his hotel, and fell asleep instantly. Wether it was out of boredom or fatigue, he would never know. ---------- Gravity Technology Research (project change): EM Generator. The EM generator will be the basis for all gravity weapons and devices. ETC: 4 RTDs
3 Emalghion fighters are moving up towards DSN-8209. They will run if they encounter enemies, but will try diplomacy with any others.
(This message has been edited by Major (edited 04-01-2003).)
(see other thread for research and action information.) "Sorry to interupt you Gordon but you have an incoming message" -computer
"Well I will leave these vetos for later, can you believe that people want to change the way we have gathered taxes since the beginning? They want to change to a system where we collect credits from our people based on income and purchases. That is purposterious of course, we need to continue using the system where if we call on a citezen to to or build something they will do it. The money of the people is rightfully the peoples."
"Should I add that into you monthly holovid adress?" -computer
"No the public does not need to know about all the innerworkings of the Council Of Elders"
"Would you like me to save the message for later?"-computer
"Oh, yes that was what we were talking about weren't we. Well lets hears it."
-----I have received your message and will begin travel toward Xarnes shortly. There is no telling when I will arrive, but I will come as swift as it is possible. -Seleria-----
"Most excelent I was worried she would be frightened off by our suprise offer"
"If you don't mind me asking why are we summoning her?" -computer
"I will tell you computer but please repeat what I said to the rest of the council. I was originally summoning her to explore the space to the galatic west. But because I sent out my scout ships and the hired Miranu's I have other business for her. I am going to send her to the Zorth Tip renegades to cut a deal with them. They have been a scourge from the beginning of time. I see how we could use them to our advantage. The will either join use and agree to a deal that I will discuss later or be destroyed. If they do not agree to the deal then, oh what is her name... Seleria to Zachit to ally with them to destroy the renegades." "You know that the other Elders will want to hear your plan at length."-Computer
"For once I am one step ahead of you, I have already made the arrangements to hold a dinner with the Council Of Elders and Seleria. The timeing is fluid but none of the members will be going anywhere for about a week around the time I have calculated she is supose to arrive"
"Shall I send a shuttle to her ship?"-computer
"No tell her to land in our private ship yard on Xarnes. Then send a speeder to bring her to the dinner"
"It shall be done Gordon"-computer
"A nice cold garsh beer would be nice too. Now please switch off I need to think about how we will test our new projects"
"Yes... I know we're going to be strong, but we will still need better technology in order to reign supreme! As you know, our two biggest enemies are the Zidigar and the Zacha.. The Azdgari are often nothing more than a nuisance, but those phased beams hurt. Now, several additions to our force are of Igadzra decent, and they recently disclosed the Igadzra's origin- that of a people banished and forced to fend for themselves... At least from the view of our mates. So, I think we should try and contact the Igadzra. Hey, you listening?" Comset stare out the window... Red picks up a small datachip and throws it at him, hitting him squarely between the eyes. "What?! Oh.. Yes... I agree." "What did I say?" "Something about... attacking the miranu?" "Um.. No. Allying the Igadzra." "Oh of course. That's what I meant." "Can you get it done?" "Um.. We don't even have that part of the galaxy mapped out.." "That's where you're wrong. Our recent additions had extensive map information in their databanks, with most of the rim mapped out, along with the approximate location of the planet Igadzra." "Ah... good. But how are we supposed to get there?" "That's up to you. Don't kill any of my men... Don't engage any hostiles, flee if you're engaged. Understand?" "Yes, sir." "How many ships do you need?" "Five Aradas and 8 Crescent Fighters." "Ok, 1 Arada and three fighters it is." "Grr... Yes, sir."
Within the day, an Arada and three fighters leaves the Rock, following the rim, traveling the long but (hopefully) safe route. (Let me look at a map before you act on my flight path, I forgot if anything will be in my way or not.)
"...and our Race will be led to victory. Glory to the Race." "Glory to the Race." As Vonark discusses his next speech he notices the green tint to Chatone's scales. "When do you plan to be dismissed?" Chatone knows to what he refers and replys, "I wil probably miss 4 days of work in about 3 days." "The typical time is 7 days, are you sure you don't want more time off?" "I'm sure."
Military development: Interceptor development complete Outfitting all Cruisers and Frigates with an extra neutron cannon and a lair of Dospect Armor. ETA: 3 RTDs
Banon stood in a now closed-off hangar at the Lunicis base. On his right side was Commander Lia Hardee, and on his left Dr. Tyrone Brooks, head of R&D; at the base. Before them was the captured Voinian Frigate, still bearing several dents from rockets and missiles. "So, what do you make of it, Doctor Brooks?" The doctor was still staring at one of the Neutron Turrets. "Tyrone!" "Hm? What? Oh, yes. What do I make of it? Well, hmm...It's very interesting. The Voinians seem to think that speed really doesn't matter if you have enough defense and firepower. However, I think that if " "When can you have those Neutron weapons figured out?" Banon cut in. "Well sir, we've already got those two other projects going the station and...er...what was the other one?" "Refitting the destroyers," Hardee said. "Yeah, I get the point," the general growled. The refitting would be done soon, however. Then, they would begin working on those Neutron weapons. Blaze weapons were all well and good, but they had short range and almost no accuracy. But a Destroyer with neutron turrets could fly circles around a Frigate even a Cruiser! firing at it and taking little to no damage. It would be worth the wait. Suddenly the personnel door to the hangar opened. Banon whirled around to see U.E. Prime Minister Leon Schwartz. "Good evening, Prime Minister," Banon said. "Your entrance was...unexpected." "Yes, of course," he said. "Listen, General, I need to speak to you about something. If you could...spare a few moments?" "Lucky you, I'm just wrapping up my business here," Banon replied with a fixed sort of smile. "Ah good. I'll meet you at your office, then."
Banon came to the door of his office some few minutes later. The Prime Minister was waiting just outside; even he couldn't get in without Banon's consent, and he looked very displeased about it, as always. Banon's retina was scanned, and he placed his hand on a pad next to the door, which opened. The Prime Minister entered, followed by Banon. "Now, what do you need to talk about?" "Exploring the rest of the galaxy," Schwartz said shortly. "To the immediate south, Renegades to the west, Voinians but what about the rest of the galaxy? You know about the alien traders that come for Saalian brandy where do they come from? What are they like? I want to know." Banon lit up his pipe and put it in his mouth, thinking. Schwartz had a point. There could be potential allies out in the deeps of space. But he wondered...why hadn't he just brought it up while Dr. Brooks was present? "It's a good idea," Banon said. "But who's going to do the exploring? We just send a few Destroyers and a Carrier into alien space and see if they fire on us?" "No no no," Schwartz said in exasperated tones. "I've already cut a deal with Frontier Express. They're going to send one of their freight couriers." "So what does this have to do with me? I'm a general, not a scientist." "Well...er...I was thinking....Commander Hardee is a former diplomat, isn't she?" "Yeah," Banon replied. "You want to send her." "Well...yes." Banon sat in his chair, thinking. Schwartz sat down in the other chair, and after a few minutes of squirming uncomfortably, stood up again. "I'll have to ask her," Banon said at last. "If she doesn't want to go, you won't be able to force her unless you knocked her out and tied her up in a sack." The Prime Minister had a look on his face like he might do just that if Hardee didn't agree. He opened up an audio channel to Hardee's office she was usually there when she wasn't out overseeing something and her voice said "Hello, General." "Good evening, Lia. Listen, the Prime Minister wants to send some freight couriers out on an exploring trip see what's out beyond our little chunk of the galaxy. And he wants you to go. Would you be up for it?" There was clearly some hesitation. "Er...well...Yeah. I will. I don't suppose I have much choice, but it would be almost like a vacation, wouldn't it?" Schwartz smiled; he'd got what he wanted, obviously. Banon did not. "I suppose you could look at it that way. The ship, the"Banon glanced at Schwartz, who mouthed ' Wombat '" Wombat , will be at"another glance; 'Saalia'"Saalia, in"'a few days (later tonight)'"a few days. That is all." "Thank you, General." Schwartz was almost grinning, now. Because the expedition was going to happen? Or...because Hardee was out of U.E. space? The latter seemed almost impossible, but Banon had never much liked Schwartz, and the feeling was mutual. "I suppose you're done, then?" the general said. "Yes, quite. Thank you for your time." The Prime Minister left the office, leaving Banon to mull over the two possibilities while looking through the day's reports.