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A New EVO Webstory
It is a time of violence and sorrow in the galaxy. To the south the human race fights for survivial against an alien onslaught and it's own divisions. To the north the peaceful Miranu struggle to maintain their way of life in the face of renegade aggression. To the east the three Strands continue to vie for supremacy, and in every part of the galaxy what peace there is degenerates further into chaos. It is a time of strife, who will bring order?
Rules
Common sense to be applied to all posts, all the time.
Each government will construct a set number of ships per Real Time Day. The makeup of this construction can be changed/redirected with moderator approval. Initial construction rates are 5% of the starting fleet per RTD.
All research and projects must be moderator approved, and will be developed per Real Time Days.
Each major government will have three (3) Research/Project slots. Pirate and Independant players will have only two (2).
During a battle players must wait for their opponents to post a reply before continuing the battle.
Training of all personel between governments is considered to be equivilant. If you want to have your elite squadrons, keep in mind that your enemy has the same right.
During normal posting Fleet movements are restricted by fuel capacity and political boundries.
During battle posts travel time between systems must be accounted for when considering reinforcements. Basicly this means that unless you sent ships before the battle started they probably won't be able to be included in the battle.
Players are strongly encouraged to post their fleet positions at the bottom of every post. This helps avoid confusion, and it's really mostly a copy and paste thing, so it shouldn't be to hard.
Moderators can be overruled by the players if they all agree. Moderators that are players are not allowed to make decisions that directly affect their government.
These are the factions that already have players who have expressed intrest.
Zidagar: Vice Admiral Ipvicus Igadzra: Captain Carnotaur Azdgari: Esponer Miranu: Thunder (Sorry 'bout the mixup there, I promise I don't hate you : ) ) Zachit: RMA North Tip Renegades: Asriel South Tip Renegades: Selax
Voinian Empire: U.E. Admiral Emalgha: Grunadulater United Earth: Consul Bob Human Renegades: Wing-of-no-Wing
*Independant Worlds, South Tip Strandless: **Visitor (Feviry), Admiral Benden (Akrayhek), Paranoid (Groned), <Open>
Mercenary Captains: Ryuu, <Open>
*Not a collective government, the individual worlds are all open. **Still in the decision making process.
Initial Naval Forces
Igadzra 200 Igazras 600 Igadzra Aradas 300 Freight Laziras (200 tons cargo, no weapons)
Zidagar 480 Zidaras 1000 Zidagar Fighters 600 Freight Aradas (100 tons cargo, no weapons)
Azdgari 150 Azdgari Warships 450 Azdgari Aradas 1200 Azdaras 600 Freight Aradas (100 tons cargo, no weapons)
South Tip Renegades 15 Crecent Warships 35 Laziras 125 Renegade Aradas 800 Crescent Fighters
Akrayhek 5 Crecent Warships 75 Aradas 240 Crescent Fighters
Tibidat 5 Crescent Warships 15 Laziras 50 Aradas 180 Crescent Fighters
Miranu 600 Couriers 400 Medium Freighters 250 Heavy Freighters 720 Crescent Fighters
Zachit 200 Zachit Aradas 600 Zachit Fighters
North Tip Renegades 15 Crecent Warships 35 Laziras 125 Renegade Aradas 800 Crescent Fighters
Voinians 150 Cruisers 550 Frigates 800 Interceptors 900 Heavy Fighters 240 Supply Ships
Voinian Subjugation Forces (Internal Only, does not factor in construction) 40 Cruisers 100 Frigates 180 Heavy Fighters
Emalgha 280 Warships 520 Fighters
United Earth 180 Carriers 650 Destroyers 1000 U.E. Fighters 700 Freight Couriers 100 Scoutships
Human Renegades 50 Turncoats 90 Helians 500 Kriats
Remember, to figure initial construction, take those numbers and multiply by .05
This post has been edited by Vice Admiral Ipvicus : 10 February 2005 - 12:20 PM
_Of the First Awakening, and the Betrayal
Zid was the Beginning, and with Him was the Void. To fill the Void Zid created Gadzair, a place of utter perfection that reflected his glory. He filled this place with forests of great trees and wonderful plants, raised magnificent mountains, created vast oceans with reefs of beautiful corals, and Gadzair was beautiful in His eyes.
Desiring to share this beauty he filled Gadzair with multitudes of animals, birds in the skies, fish for the seas, and others for every part of the world in between. Once this was done Zid saw that something was missing from his perfect world, none that could truly appreciate it's wonder.
After contemplating for two days and nights Zid set about the greatest task he had yet attempted. He bent all his effort into creating a living being that could reflect His grace. Out of His work came two brothers, one large and immensely strong, the other smaller, but swift as any of the beasts of Gadzair. For the first time Zid was surprised, for the manner of these two beings was not what He had expected. Despite His misgivings, Zid looked upon his two sons with favor, He named the strong one Igad, and the fast one He called Azdgar.
Sadly, they were imperfect. The more He observed the actions his progeny the more concerned he became. Azdgar was constantly deceiving his brother and playing tricks on him, and Igad seemed to revel in the destruction of everything around him, marring the the beauty off Zid's otherwise perfect creation. Zid saw all these things, and they saddened Him. Searching for a way to restore Gadzair to the perfection that it now lacked Zid realized that He needed another son, a worthy son.
Thus did Zid create His third son. As strong as Igad, and as swift as Azdgar, Zid watched him, and bent all his effort to molding him in His image. Zid watched, and guided, and eventually, looked at His son and saw that where He had failed in the past, He had finally succeeded. He decided that this was the son that reflected the perfection of His creations, and called him Zidaga.
During the time that Zid had spent in the raising of his newest son he had kept apart from Azdgar and Igad, now that he had finished the three sons were united with each other for the first time. Shamed by their Father's lack of satisfaction, Azdgar and Igad took an instant dislike to their younger brother. Zidaga, however took no notice of this, and his love for his two brothers was absolute. The more they watched Zidga, and saw their Father's favor of him, the more bitter Azdgar and Igad became. They hid their jealousy, however, and neither their Father nor young brother knew of the growing depth of their twisted nature.
As Zidaga grew older, he began to feel lonely. His explorations of Gadzair had started to lose some of their initial wonder, and his brothers were often alone keeping to themselves. Seeing this sadness in his son, Zid created for him a companion and protector. Named Tumni by Zidaga, he was one of the first of the great predators of Gaszair, now made intelligent and tasked with keeping Zidaga's inquisitive nature from getting him into trouble. Tumni and Zidaga became fast friends, and let nothing come between them, but the sadness of Zidaga was not completely abated. And so Zid created Saffera, and gave her to Zidaga as his wife, and in her love Zidaga found greater joy than he had ever known.
Azdgar and Idaga watched these things and wept, for it was obvious that their Father had forgotten them. Their sadness went unnoticed, and their grief grew deeper and deeper, and their grief fed a twisting jealosy, a jealosy that would burst forth in Azdgar as hate. As he watched Saffera he came to lust after her, and spite his brother for having what he did not. As Zid walked among the forests and plains of Gaszair with his chosen son, Azdgar plotted to commit sin against his Father and brother. He went to Igad, and convinced his brother to join in the conspiracy. They waited until Zidaga and their Father were away together, then drugged Tumni with tainted meat so that he fell into a sleep as if dead. Dragging him into the forest, they covered him with the blood and gore of a slain beast and left him. With the guardian subdued, they kidnapped Saffera and hid her in a far cave in the mountains.
When Zidaga returned his brothers were weeping at the site of his home. They told him that Tumni had gone mad, attacked Saffera and drug her into the forest. Frantic, Zidaga followed the trail to his guardian in the forest, and finding him covered in blood, knew that he had slain his love. As Tumni woke from his coma, Zidaga, mad with grief, flew into a rage and killed his closest friend. As his madness subsided, Zidaga looked upon what he had done, and wept. He built a great pyre for his friend, and setting it aflame, exiled himself from Gadzair to wander the Void alone with his grief.
When Zid saw the great smoke and flame rising from Tumni's pyre, he searched Gadzair for Zidaga, but could not find him. He went to Azdgar and Igad, and when they told him the lie that had deceived Zidaga, he too could not believe that his sons would tell him anything but truth. The loss of Zidaga, Tumni, and Saffera was too much to bear. Zid fled the sight of his sons and Gadzair entirely, His grief overcame Him, and He cried As His tears fell into the Void, each one became a tiny star, and in His grief he filled all Creation with them.
With Zidaga gone, and their Father too blinded by His grief to pay any attention to what was happening on Gadzair, Azdgar and Igad were convinced that their plan had been successful. Held prisoner in her cave, Saffera suffered as Azdgar took his anger on the only target he had. Both Azdgar and Igad forced themselves upon her, and eventually she bore two daughters of their cruelty. During all this Zidaga wandered aimlessly, his heartache, if anything growing, weighed ever on his mind. He could not escape the loss of his beloved wife no matter how far he ran.
Of the Breaking of Gadzair
At last Zidaga could no longer stand his life without Saffera. He fell to the ground sobbing beside a lake on one of the worlds created by Zid's tears. It was here that the spirit of Tumni came to him in a vision. He showed Zidaga the betrayal of his brothers, and the fate of Saffera, still alive in her cave, and even then being beaten by Azdgar. Zidaga's grief dissolved into a red haze of rage, and he sped back to Gadzair to exact his vengeance and rescue his lover.
When Zidaga returned to Gadzair Azdgar knew that he had been found out. He and Igad fled their brother fearing his wrath, and when Zidaga arrived at the cave where they had hidden Saffera he found her covered in the evidence of Azdgar and Igad's abuse. Breaking her chains, Zidaga took her from the cave down into the forrest and tended to her wounds, when she finally slept in peace he went seeking his betrayers. He hunted them in the mountains, in the forest, through the swamps and plains, and even in the vast sea. Eventually he found them hiding on an island, and there brought them to battle.
Azdgar, Igad, and Zidaga fought. Though his brothers were two, Zidaga's rage gave him the strength to match them, and for days their battle raged across Gadzair. Their rage burned the skies, leveled mountains, cracked the very ground on which they tread, and scorched the beauty from the surface of paradise. So great was the calamity caused by their war that it woke Zid from his grief. He descended upon his fighting sons and threw them apart, and Zidaga told him of Azdgar and Igad's treachery.
Finally all things were clear to Zid, and he saw the depth to which his two sons had fallen. He exploded in rage, beating Azdgar and Igad to an extent that Zidaga could never have done. In his rage he all but killed them, and then, as he looked upon their broken bodies, he realized that he could not bring himself to give them the death they deserved for their sin. He banished Azdgar and Igad from Gadzair, with them he sent their daughters, with whom he condemned them to further their now mortal line. In their incest the corruption of their souls would be forever compounded through the generations. The descendants of Azdgar called themselves the Azdgari, and were forever as deceptive and cowardly as their progenitor. Igad's descendants came to be known as the Igadzra, and they were forever a brute and primitive race.
With his shamed sons banished from His presence, Zid looked upon the shattered remains of Gadzair. He saw that it was no longer a paradise that he could leave to Zidaga, and so he created for his son a new home. There Zidaga and Saffera lived and were happy, and their children came to call themselves the Zidagar, and they were ever in the favor of Zid._
The Faithful, Chapter One Consular Halls, the Great Temple of Zid, Zidagar
Light shone down upon the Holy Council from the stained glass windows that lined the ceiling of the Great Temple. They sat along a semi-circular dias, raised above the rest of the chamber floor that spread out in front of them. A lone Zidagar, clad in the purple and silver armor of the highest rank among the Paladins, stood by a holo-projector in the center of the room. Behind him stood a number of various command and staff officers, Paladins all, waiting at attention as their leader faced the questions of the Council.
Banging his gavel, Asrin Nemisa, High Priest of Zid and First Consul of the Temple, brought a hushed silence over the assorted Clergy and other officials present in the Council Chamber. Leaning slightly forward into the microphone floating in front of him, he uttered the opening prayers, then looked down at the bowing Paladin.
"So, General Deran, pray tell the Council of your latest grand campaign for the glory of Zid."
Shaking his head, Samael Deran straightened his shoulders and gazed up at the nine Consuls sitting above him. "You honor me Consul, but what little glory there is comes only from the survival of those of us who stand before you, and the sacrifice of those that fell. There is no glory in the defeat of any Zidagar, even if they be heretics."
The corner of Asrin's mouth turned up slightly in a thin smile. "Your humility, as always, is most gratifying, but that is immaterial. The Council wishes to better understand the events of the last few weeks, and we have heard little their conclusion. So, if you would... spare us any more waiting, present your report General."
Samael nodded. "As you wish," and with that he turned to the projector. "From what we can tell, the uprising started shortly after we intercepted this transmission from Pozdag-3. It seems that a group of..."
Brothers! Cast off the yoke of your oppression! The Council is no more Holy than the mass graves into which they have dumped every vestige of opposition and free will among the Zidagar. But the fire of Liberty will not be snuffed by their Inquisition! Your brothers on Pozdag have even now defeated the rabid dogs of the Council, and our forces are...
Captain Vehn Dorja slammed his fist down on the holo-projector's control panel, causing the intercepted rebel transmission to cut out in a buzz of static. "Fools! Can anyone truly be deluded enough to think they can secede from the Holy Worlds? Do they think the Council will just let them get away with it?"
General Deran grimaced as he scanned the faces of the various captains seated around him, their expression ranged between Dorja's barely contained anger, and his own somber meditation. Riots were not uncommon in the many cities within the Holy Worlds of Zid, but an entire star system in rebellion? This was unheard of. None enjoyed the site of Inquisitor stormtroopers wading into the ranks of demonstrators with shock-batons and choke-gas, but they were hear to talk about the suppression of a full fledged armed rebellion.
"So, you mustered an assault force at Neeg, then after two days of preparation, you launched your attack against the Rebels."
Deran nodded, then brought up an image of a Zidagar warfleet in orbit around Neeg. "Yes, Councilor, as you can see, we had to bring in ships from neighboring systems to assemble a force of the necessary size and strength."
Another Councilor spoke from the other side of the dias. "Describe the battle for us General, what did you find when you entered the Pozdag system?"
With a flash of purple and gold, the Zidagar fleet entered Pozdag already in battle formation. More than two dozen Zidaras, with accompanying squadrons of Zidagar fighters, they were a force to strike fear into the heart of any enemy. This enemy however, had already shed all vestiges of fear, they were very likely to have resigned themselves to death the moment they at started down the twisting path of Rebellion.
Arrayed against the Zidagar fleet was a ragtag group of ships that looked no better than the poorest group of strandless raiders. Several Aradas, and a squadron or two of Crecent fighters made up the bulk of the rebel force, the three Laziras looked as if they'd been the victim of more than a few pirate skirmishes, and the ailing Crescent Warship at the fleet's center must have been at least a century old. Even this, however, was an amazing sight to the Zidagar commanders. To have amassed such a force in so short a time spoke of long planning, and careful organization. Despite it's appearances, this was no rabble.
What they saw next though, was a sight that no Paladin expected to see in his life. From the far side of Pozdag-3, a sleek purple shape emerged from the hazy film of the planet's atmosphere. It was a Zidara, and it was joining the Rebels.
By now the enemy fleet had also coalesced into a battle formation of sorts. As the two opposing battle groups accelerated towards each other glowing projectiles flashed between them, and the starfighters broke away from the larger ships and screamed ever faster towards a final melee. With a flash of phased beamers and the red trails of dispersal rockets the two fleets met...
"A Zidara! With the rebel fleet! How did this happen!?"
His head falling slightly, General Deran composed himself, and met the First Consul's gaze. "We do not know," he answered, "we tried to disable the ship and recover it's logs, but it's Captain activated the ship's self destruction system."
Asrin Nemisa studied the expressionless face of his people's greatest military leader. It was not often that the fearless warrior did not fulfill his goals to their fullest extent, his admission of the slightest failure, even in the midst of his victory, was a rarity. "So, you defeated the rebel scum, though they inflicted heavy losses for their few numbers. What of the planet? I have a report from my High Inquisitor telling me that it has been purified of any further seditious influence... but he was not their for your retaking of the planet."
Deran dropped his eyes again to the floor. "The uprising was subdued without any problems of note. Once their fleet was destroyed in the sky above them, the rebels knew their cause was lost..."
The stench of death filled the air in the streets of Pozdag's largest city. The populace was subdued, but the rebels had fought to the bitter end, and thousands of their bodies filled the rubble surrounding Samael as he surveyed the work of his troops. Falling to his knees, he sat among the ruins of what was once one of the most beautiful Temples of any of the Holy Worlds. Now it was inhabited only by the carrion eaters, and the piles of bodies heaped what had once been gardens and vaulted halls.
He cradled his face in his hands and wept, this was no victory, he thought, this was a slaughter. And for what?
The First Consul shook his head as General Deran finished his report. "So Pozdag-3 was pacified without incident? This is good news, but there is still a greater question here. How did this happen in the beginning? There had to have been some catalyst for this uprising, who led it? How did the rebels acquire the ships and overcome the local garrisons? There are too many questions left unanswered."
"Unfortunatly," replied Samael, "we were not able to capture the ringleaders. They continued to transmit from an underground bunker for hours after the largest of the ground battles were over, and when out special forces were able to penetrate the facility all they found were bodies. Any answers we could have gained went with their souls to the afterlife."
Asrin looked to each side at the faces of his fellow councilors, then nodded his head. "Well, at any rate, the Council thanks you once again for your service General Deran. Without the leadership and bravery of you and your Paladins the Holy Worlds would have collapsed long ago, we are indebted to you once again." With that, he raised his gavel from the table and brought it down in three quick strikes, and with a final prayer, signaled the end of the proceeding.
Samael turned crisply in an about face and marched back among his fellow Paladins, before exiting the Halls. As he walked out the doors of the Great Temple the young Captain Dorja caught up to him and fell into step at his side. For a few moments there was silence while they walked, then Dorja spoke.
"So, do you think they suspect the truth? You never know what that bastard Sernak has heard with his cursed ears."
General Deran turned his head slightly and gave his young colleague an appraising look. For the first time that day his features expressed something other than stony concentration, and he gave the young Dorja a grim smile. "I suspect that for now our secret is safe. If they did know my young friend, then rest assured that we would already have felt the prick of the assassins knife, courtesy of your friend the High Inquisitor Sernak."
With that Dorja gave a laugh that lacked the slightest amount of mirth. "I suppose you're right General, if there's one thing you can always trust Sernak to be quick about, it's killing someone who keeps secrets."
Detention Cell 251, High Citadel of the Paladin Order, Tumni
A ray of light penetrated the darkness of the cell and illuminated the form of it's occupant crouched against the far wall. Raising his hand to shield his eyes from the now unfamiliar glare assaulting his senses, the prisoner looked up.
General Deran stepped inside the cell, then sat down in front of the prisoner. "So, brother, tell me... how does it feel to be a traitor to your God, your country, your family, and most of all, your Order?"
A rasping sound that must have been laughter came from the dry throat of the prisoner. He lowered his hand, squinted at his first visitor since he'd been knocked unconscious by an exploding console in far away Pozdag. He fingered the tattered purple cloth that was the remnant of the uniform he'd worn almost his entire life. He laughed again. "Heh, Brother... I could tell you many stories of treason... but none of it is mine..."
This post has been edited by Vice Admiral Ipvicus : 10 February 2005 - 12:22 PM
Memories... Of a happier time... Once he had been a pure energy life form, but now? He was forced to remain trapped in this body. Of course, this was preferable to what could have happened. He had entered this galaxy dying. He didn't know of what, but he traveled the stars for years looking for a cure before he encountered a Crescent Warship. Desperate to survive he head thrown himself into the body of its captain. The resulting release of energy killed the entire crew. Alone, he remained in hiding, until he was used to his new form and had assimilated all of the captain's memories. He had gone then to the Council at Histiri Station. Although he was unable to channel all of his energy in this form, he was able to channel enough to kill the Council. Then, he had assumed leadership and unified the Renegades. Why? Even he didn't know, but he expected that he would find out soon...
The Master jolted out of his reverie. He had long since forgotten any other name. He reflected on the situation that he found himself in and pondered the resources of those he controlled. The South Tip Renegades had few troops for taking over planets, but with his powers, they would get along all right, if it came to that. They had good shipyards and research capabilities and plenty who were to join them, if the price was right. They would be ready when the time came. He leaned back into the shadows of his private office and began to plan for when his time came.
Mavs System: 8 Crecent Warships 18 Laziras 70 Renegade Aradas 450 Crescent Fighters
DSN-6107 System: 7 Crescent Warships 17 Laziras 55 Aradas 350 Crescent Fighters
An Arada captain had just had an epiphany, deep in the bowels of The Rock. He rushed to write it down, knowing that it would mean a fundamental change in how raids were conducted. All he needed to do was convey his idea to somebody with influence. He needed some way to get to Rago.
He sat, pondering. Rago was very intelligent, but also quite paranoid. He had that hulking Earthman with him at all times. And Laszlo...well, he wasnt the smartest apple in the bunch, to say the least, but he did follow orders, and his orders had always been, and would always be, not to let Rago out of his sight. The captain knew that he had to get Rago alone to tell him his idea, and even then the proud Rocker probably wouldnt listen. But what if Rago thought the idea was his own?
====================
Ragos mind was in a similar vein to the nameless Arada captains at this moment. Sure, he may have been in the Room, listening to endless raiding propositions, but his mind was figuring out new ways to get around and through those damned Zacha. He decided that fitting the Arada with dispersal rockets had been a masterstroke, as they now dropped Zachit fighters like flies, but he realized that he needed to incorporate some sort of anti-fighter missile on his ships. Pursuit missiles? Maybe.
His mind wandered, and he began to think of what would happen if the Zacha launched a full-out assault on either North Tip Station or The Rock. He would lose massive amounts of ships trying to destroy the quick ships flitting about. He needed a battlecruiser of some sort, if only for defense. He would think on it.
Rago realized that Captain Aulair was trying to get his attention. Rago, the Council proposes that Laszlo be impressed.
Vaten woke up, as always, in his 5x10 cell dozens of meters below the Room. Directly below the Room, however, which had its advantages. For instance, it was very easy to covertly record the meetings and see just what the Council was up to. Being part Zacha, Vaten had a difficult time getting people to trust him, and the Council almost never told him their motives when giving him an assignment. He felt it was his right as the one putting himself in danger, to know why he was being sent to this or that world. Today, they were attempting to separate Laszlo and Rago. Vaten knew he would be needed soon, but decided to make the Council come find him when they wanted him. He liked making people uneasy.
RESEARCH INITIATED
Project title: Preliminary planning on new ranged weapon ETA: 2 days (please assume that it is Wednesday night for purposes of this; i.e. it will be complete on Friday)
Ship distribution
DSN-2131 system: 8 Crescent Warships 15 Laziras 75 Renegade Aradas 500 Crescent Fighters
Hrekka system: 7 Crescent Warships 20 Laziras 50 Renegade Aradas 300 Crescent Fighters
New Ship Construction: 0
This post has been edited by asriel : 10 February 2005 - 12:51 AM
09/02/05 Short post, I need more sleep.
"...we've just finished the top level organisation of our fighter groups Commander, and the new flight patrols should be entering their assigned systems shortly."
High Commander Orazeno glanced at the data streaming up the display infront of him and nodded. "Looking good Commander Eris. The patrol rotations with the new pilots will ensure we don't lose our edge over the renegades. Could we have a progress report on the new weapon system, Ordinance Master Hure. I know our fighter pilots will like it once they find out about, but updates from your labs have been rather confusing recently."
"We'd been having some problems with the power cells powering the engines properly, but we think we've sorted that out now. We're hard at work on fitting everything needed into the missile body, as well as making it easy for the future projects to be intergrated. We'll have to spend some time adapting and building fab units to produce the new designs, but we'll be finished in a few days. Refit of the fleets ships won't take long, although what will be done with the old equipment yet, I don't know."
"Hold off refitting the ships until we have more of the new systems ready. It'll leave our pilots at risk for a bit longer, but it'll be worth it.
"Good, now moving onto..." Orazeno paused as Hure coughed slightly
"Sir, our liasons with the Miranu have reported on some possible shield improvements, and the Miranu are willing to fund research into this area, with the normal provision they gain access to the resulting data, naturally with the limited use clauses. They're not sure how long it will take, but I'll have an ETA for you soon."
"Good news indeed. Moving onto trade convoy protection now..."
============
Research
Zachit Micro-Pursuit Missile & Launcher ETA:3 days 12/02
Miranu Shield Enhancements ETA:2 days 11/02
Total Forces 200 Z.Aradas 600 Z.Fighters
100 Squadrons of 2 Z.Aradas, 6 Z.Fighters 10 Groups of 10 Squadrons
Niwom 1Group Dewe 3 Groups Nadej 3 Groups DSN-6116 1 Group Zachit 1 Group Hizdriar 1 Squadron Turgon 1 Squadron Zeldair 1 Squadron Tmidor 1 Squadron Xrima 1 Squadron Sumo 1 Squadron Eiribi 1 Squadron Garren 1 Squadron Turgon 1 Squadron Sumo 1 Squadron DSN-1770 1 Squadron
This post has been edited by RMA : 10 February 2005 - 07:52 PM
By all accounts, it was a beautiful day in the capitol; the sun was shining, and a cool breeze was blowing in off Mira's southern ocean. Atop the hill in the center of the main government compound, the evening light shone in through a tall, arching window in an elegant residence. Governor Kitanu sat in his study, elbows on the desk, his face slumped against his hands. Even the beautiful weather, it seemed couldn't rouse him from his solemn, thoughtful state.
In front of him, a computer pad displayed the latest news from officials throughout Miranu territory. A delay in repairs from last month's renegade raid in Zeldair. Fifteen injured in an avalanche on Kitrak. And reports of corruption and kickbacks at the hands of the Miranu Trade Conglomorate. "I thought the latest round of anti-corruption legislation would have put a stop to this..." he muttered. "Looks like I'm going to have to push harder to get that corporate investigative act passed through the senate."
He continued to scroll through the news for several minutes more, before being interrupted by a beep from his comms unit. "That's right," he thought to himself, "tonight is my grandson's birthday dinner." He laid the news pad down on the desk, and glanced out the window. "I suppose the news can wait," he said, a slight smile now evident on his face. "After all, my work will still be here when I return."
----------
Schematics flashed rapidly on a projector, changing a little bit here and there every few seconds. Two Miranu in long lab coats worked diligently, their fingers almost dancing across the keypads of their workstations. It was another typical day at the Miranu Academy of the Sciences, and Professor Priashi was behind deadline.
"These readouts look okay," he said, much to the relief of his nervous research assistant. "I'll need the other fifteen as quickly as possible; we've got to finish the report on the radio signals by tomorrow."
"What's the rush?" asked his curious student.
"Well, see that you don't tell anyone," Priashi said, lowering his voice, "but a lot of scientists from the institute have been called to work on a high-priority government project, beginning early next week."
"What kind of project!?"
"Hey... not so loud!" the professor warned.
"Sorry."
"Anyway," Priashi continued, "we're supposedly working to develop some kind of miniature buoy designed to hold a sensor array. From what I hear, it could first step in developing an advanced-warning system against renegade raids. But we're still a long way from that, so don't get your hopes up just yet."
"There's also talk that some of the other professors are working on a modification to a ship's hyperspace manifold to allow hyperjumps from closer to the system center," said the professor, clearly enjoying the chance to speak with his student about the work going on at the Academy. "If successful, it'll mean our convoys will be able to escape renegade raids quicker."
"Anything to save lives and help preserve the peace can't hurt," his student mused.
"You can say that again," the professor agreed, and then bid his research assistant a quick farewell before rushing off to a meeting.
In the depths of the Holmm system, a single Miranu courier cut through otherwise empty space. "I hate these long-term survaillence missions," muttered ensign Kotik. "This isn't the kind of thing I envisioned when I joined the Peace Corps."
"Just be glad we got a week's shore leave on Kitrak," said his co-pilot, cheerfully. "That's more than a lot of Sentinels can say."
"Yeah, but three whole weeks in deep space, two of those in radio silence. And to top it off, I've got only you for company." A half-smile crossed Kotik's face, and his co-pilot chuckled.
Deep inside, Kotik knew there were far worse jobs than being a Sentinel. The Sentinels were the division of the Miranu Peace Corps respoinsible for monitoring alien activity in regions near Miranu space - to keep tabs on neighbors the Miranu Senate had decided, for whatever reason, not yet to initiate first contact with. While other branches of the Peace Corps had to clean up the aftermath of natural disasters, act as diplomatic liasons, or even escort convoys, the job of a Sentinel was summed up in two simple rules: 1) complete the assigned scans on time, and 2) above all, do it without being seen.
Kotik and his co-pilot had just returned from a two week mission in DSN-8902, running long-range scans of Emalgha activity in the region. Now they were heading far into the galactic south through systems just north of Saalia and Aludra, to keep watch over the northern fringes of the territory known to be travelled by the race identifying themselves as human. Their Miranu Courier had all the fuel needed for more than a dozen hyperjumps without refueling, and enough food and supplies to last them three months, if need be.
Un-noticed and alone, the courier accelerated southward, preparing for the jump to DSN-4533. "Deep space, here we come."
Research:
Of course, research times may be edited by moderator if he deems it necessary.
Technical note: Since the Zachit are closely tied to the Miranu, and are vital to the Miranu for military defense, I give RMA (the Zachit player), access to one of the Miranu research slots to use as he sees fit.
edit - added suggested ETA for research projects.
This post has been edited by Thunder : 10 February 2005 - 07:08 PM
LOCATION: Docking Bay 23, South Tip Station, Akrayhek System, Sector 13
Peter picked up the panel, and placed it back on the exposed wires.
He was constantly tweaking and improving his ship systems and that of his other ships. Hell, all of the ships in his fleet had something that made it unique.
" Und this one is basically everything in a 35-ton bulk of unknown alloy. Whatever in hell the Crescent shipyards made this thing with, it's just plain..."
"Illogical?" came a voice from behind him.
"Hermann, I believe 'inexplicable' would be the correct term."
Hermann chuckled. "Anyway, Ryan just thought of this idea. You know that a mixture of Hahnium and Thorium is basically a lifetime source of fuel."
"True."
"But with our current reactor structure, it'd blast the ship apart."
" Zutreffend."
"He came up with an idea to replace the alloy on the reactor and place a titanium-vanadium-duranium triple alloy, ten-inch-thick shell. It also doubles as a giant cooling rod."
Peter nodded. "Good idea. The problem is, where do we get the Hahnium?"
"Synthesis, although it'll take about a week to do that."
"Get to it."
Hermann nodded, and left.
-----
"So, how are we?" Peter asked as he went into his Arada.
One of the captains inside looked up. "Ninety-eight percent ready. We're two weeks away from our next attack."
Peter nodded. "Enough time for Hermann to synthesize that Hahnium and get that triple alloy."
----- -----
Okay...research slots: 1. Synthesize Hahnium (+200 Fuel) ETA: Wednesday, February 16 2. Design and Construct New Reactor Shell (Removes chance of overload, AKA Warp Core Breach) ETA: Wednesday, February 16
This post has been edited by Ryuu : 11 February 2005 - 04:14 AM
There were many different countries on Earth (although some of the smallest were merged with similar countries nearby, and some of the largest were split up into seperate countries). All of the leaders of the existing governments have their say in the United Earth Weekly Conference, as do the colonial leaders of nearby planets such as Centauri, Saalia, Paaren, and Verril, colonies that are treated as seperate countries. The outer colonies merely have governors, and are more or less considered to be outposts, a fact that isn't particularly pleasing to the inhabitants. Once every five years, the officials elect a worthy and/or skillful candidate from either their number, and that person serves as the Director, a position that more or less provides complete control over United Earth. A particularly brilliant candidate can also be proposed, and if he is supported by the majority of the government leaders, he can also serve in the position for the traditional five years. A person can be elected Director infinite times, in theory, although that hasn't actually happened so far. If the Director is not available, they get the Protector (his second in command, military position) to attend. If the Protector isn't available, they get the Administrator, the guy who is technically equal to the Protector, aside from the fact that he manages the colonies. If the Administrator isn't available, they give a copy of the recording that is always taken at Geneva to the first one that shows up, as one of those people will meet up with the Director sooner or later, if the people of the Conference aren't lucky enough to slip it directly to him. The Director can be banished, but only with the support of more than half of the Conference participants. -Pages 50-51 of the United Earth Political Manual, Series IV, issued in 2183 and retired in 2195
Earth, Geneva
In the Conference room, the various country leaders began their annual weekly meeting with the usual roll call. The most unusual aspect, at least for Conference log recorder Martin Prong, was that there was no abstains in this meeting. The thing that made this unusual is that the Director usually abstained from all Conference meetings, as he regularly said that he was busy. All of his associates knew that he didnt participate in the meetings mostly because they were generally useless, and for the most part, boring. Five hours full of bureaucratic nonsense and statements of Well, hows the weather today? after it became clear that there was no real subject for discussion did not appeal to the Director, but, as he was being forced to attend this meeting, he had to tolerate it. Besides, sometimes there actually were things to discuss. The recorder shook his head as he finished setting up the equipment, and sat back to find out what would happen.
Outpost Alpha, Bakka system
The Director, or, to some determined people, Bob, sat in his office, attending the evil meeting known as the United Earth Weekly Conference. Whoever created this conference should be shot. The Director said this under his breath. He couldnt remember a single time in his career when the five-hour session was worth attending, although he was sure that, at one point, the stuff that went on was actually of importance. However, just looking at his viewscreen, he realized that this wasnt going to be an important meeting. Unfortunately, he had nothing better to do at the moment that he could think of...
---Two hours later---
The meeting had finally progressed beyond the roll call. The leader of China began to speak, but he was interrupted by the Director. Well, chaps, Im out, I just remembered a few things I have to do. Before anyone could say anything, the Director shut his terminal off, and then ran outside to attend to business. The navy, as he now remembered, was going through a complete organizational overhaul, and he would have to determine what ports would produce the ship setup. There was also the small matter that a note under his door had been slipped through, informing him that the lab on Outpost Alpha had sent out for him. As he walked through the hallway, the Director considered getting the Protector to attend in his stead, but he decided not to, knowing how boring the meeting would be.
The sights and smells changed slowly as the Director went from the hallway wasteland on into a smaller hallway wasteland. The main difference was probably that this one opened up into the mess hall and the rest of the spaceport. Turning to the right, the Director entered the spaceport, and then moved over towards the specialized terminal in the quietest area of the building that would allow him to send his orders out to the rest of U.E. space.
United Earth Fleet and Construction 180 Carriers 650 Destroyers 1000 U.E. Fighters 700 Freight Couriers 100 Scoutships Per Day: 9 Carriers, 33 Destroyers, 50 Fighters, 5 Scoutships, 35 Freight-Couriers Earth: 4 Carriers, 10 Destroyers, 20 Fighters, 1 Scoutship New Tokyo: 2 Scoutships New Taranto: 2 Carriers, 13 Destroyers, 20 Fighters, 1 Scoutship Paaren: 3 Carriers, 10 Destroyers, 10 Fighters Crockett: 35 Freight-Couriers, 1 Scoutship
Upon sending these orders out, the Director walked towards the winding hallways again and, at a steady pace, went through the labyrinth. Finally, at the farthest end of the station, he opened the last door, and entered.
The scientist that greeted him hailed from Russia. In his thick accent, he said, Good day, Director. Whats going on around here, and why is that hunter missile in several pieces? Ve are making some changes to ve hunter missile. It vill have half again as much power as it already has. Thats only a little weaker than the existing rocket...this will be a major step forward, said the Director, knowing what a great thing it would be if this really worked out. Indeed. Another scientist entered the area, and, noticing the Director standing there, said Hello, sir! I assume that Zakharov has already explained what the Hunter Missile is doing here? Oh, yes. Well, the scientist said, his face lightning up, There are some plans to mount Hunter missiles on all U.E. ships to replace Rockets. Were going to load these Hunters up to replace the older ones, when the time comes. Those will be sold to the public, of course. Of course, said the Director, thinking about where all of these plans would go. The project is starting up immediately...the Hunter Missile program will simply upgrade the Hunters mounted on the existing ships. We should feel the effects in about a day or two. Maybe three, at the most. Well, this has been most productive. Im going off to lunch. Goodbye, sir. WIth the enlightening conversation having ended, the Director of United Earth, known to a certain few as Bob, headed off to get a bit of food before he resumed his daily business.
---PROJECTS COMMENCED--- Hunter Missile power upgrade. Will take 3 days. U.E. ship refitting program. Will replace all rocket launchers and rockets with hunters. Will take 2 days.
This post has been edited by Consul Bob : 10 February 2005 - 03:31 PM
First Executor Asai Kala walked down the long, darkened hallway of Igadzra Directorate Military Central Command. Flanked by two Igadzra soldiers in dark brown body armor and assault rifles, Asai stopped as he approached the final doorway to Central Command. It was a massive circular door, flanked by another two fully armored soldiers. Asai held out his hand, placing it on a fingerprint and DNA sensor while he looked into a retinal scanner. After a moment, the readouts appeared all green, and Asai was lead in through the doors.
Central Command was a flurry of activity. Officers walked back and forth from console to console, typing in data, processing reports, filtering intercepted transmissions, and so forth. It was also darkened, with dark blue lights overhead being the primary means of lighting.
Asai nodded silently to a few officers as he passed, walking purposefully towards the large holo-projector which stood in the center of the massive room. Most of those he passed saluted respectfully. First Executor was the second highest rank in the navy. The only thing higher was Grand Executor, and that was who Asai was going to see.
Grand Executor X'el Zhane was the supreme leader of the Igadzra Navy. He was, of course, technically under the command of Praetor Zhu'ka Attar, the leader of the Igadzra Directorate, along with the Council, of course. However, the Praetor generally concerned himself more with overall matters, leaning towards domestic dealings, and leaving the military to the command of X'el, whom Zhu'ka trusted implicitly.
Asai stopped and saluted X'el before handing over three thick data-pads of tactical reports. "There you are, Executor. The latest tactical reports from Executor Ithon and Executor Shaei of the 1st and 2nd Armadas."
X'el nodded, carefully looking over and reading the reports while Asai stood by at attention. He glanced over at the holo-projector. It showed an overall view of the entire Igadzran domain, with readouts on numbers of ships, the situation of vessels, and so forth. From Central Command, buried several miles underground with six independent shield generators protecting it from attack, X'el could command the navy in a full-blown war, knowing every detail about every ship he had, down to the tiniest details. It was a vast and complex hub of information, with dozens of advanced computers and even more personnel managing the information.
Finally finishing reading the pads, X'el handed them over to Asai. "Very good. Reports on ship production?" X'el asked, glancing over another report an aid had given him.
"Going as expected. We'll have the next contingent ready shortly. Where should they be sent?" Asai replied, still standing at attention.
"Here. I want to begin a third temporary, and then eventually spread it out to the defense fleets to reinforce them. Keep the fleet here on battle training. They're new ships so their crews may be untested. Be sure they are all fully trained and ready for combat duty at a moments notice," X'el replied, handing back the report and looking up at Asai.
Asai nodded slowly, briefly taking out a small palm data unit to jot down necessary actions to take to get the new fleet ready. "It will be done immediately. Praetor Zhu'ka wanted to speak to you this afternoon about his regular military update, and Rune wanted to hear your personnel report," Asai reported, still jotting down some information while X'el listened, nodding slowly.
"Rune" was the code name for the leader of the Igadzra Secret Police. No one knew his real name. Perhaps Rune himself did not know. He was "selected" at random from some random Igadzran world and brought up in a world of secrecy and spying. He was trained from the beginning to be either an agent or the leader of the Police. He demanded unquestioned loyalty, and brutally crushed those who withheld it. The Secret Police were the unseen enforcers of Igadzran law. They were ruthless, but not stupid. They knew not to cross the bounds of cautious suspicion in the name of security into the realm of ignorant paranoia.
"Rune" was the current director of the organization. He was a mysterious figure rarely seen in public. Among lower ranking officers, his name inspired fear. Officers such as X'el and Asai did not, however. In order to get to their rank, they had to be personally approved by Rune as "safe." In all his long career, Rune had never been wrong about someone.
Finishing writing down the information, Asai looked up at X'el. "We've also begun work on the three research projects we briefed you on earlier. The Particle Beam, Graviton Beam, and the Arada upgrade. Work on them will begin immediately."
"Excellent, excellent," X'el replied, stretching for a moment. "Good work, Asai. Now, I suppose I will go and speak with Praetor Zhu'ka."
"Yes, Executor. I will go and deliver your orders."
------
Research & Development
Particle Beam -- 7 RTD -- A new, highly advanced weapon, the Particle Beam is an almost revolutionary upgrade to Igadzra weapons technology. It is a long-ranged beam, weak at it's maximum ranges, but becoming more and more powerful as the target closes in. It will be designed in two forms: a swivel cannon, and a turret. It will completely replace Phase weaponry.
Graviton Beam -- 6 RTD -- A combination of an advanced and high-powered Repulsor Beam and Tractor Beam, the Graviton Beam is quite versatile. It can be either a repulsor or a tractor (but not both at the same time).
Igara Upgrade -- 4 RTD -- An upgrade to the Igadzra Arada, turning it into the "Igara." The Igara will turn faster, and have improved shields. The weapons, which will all be replaced later, are left alone.
NOTE: More details to follow later
Naval Statistics
Current Ship Count 200 Igazras 600 Aradas
Production (per RTD) 10 Igazras 20 Aradas
Defense Fleets Igadzra, Ersadt, Innirian, Mark, Nujja, Mordus, Norhis, Motif 15 Igazras ( 120 total ) 45 Aradas ( 360 total )
1st Armada -- Mark 40 Igazras 120 Aradas
2nd Armada -- Innor 40 Igazras
This post has been edited by Captain Carnotaur : 10 February 2005 - 07:55 PM
Impressed?! Absolutely not. The mans my personal bodyguard!
As we well know, Aulair smoothly continued. But just think of what he could do in a raid. Hed be the finest commando ever born! And wed love to see how brave youd be apart from him , he thought. Lets put it to a vote.
Ragos thoughts moved quickly. As Leader, he had an informal sort of veto power, but he had to be very careful about exercising it, as it usually had fairly bloody and chaotic results.
The vote went 11-4 in favor of impressing Laszlo. Clearly more than a few people wanted to get the enforcer out of Ragos sight. Well, would you like to veto? Aulair asked, knowing full well that Rago wouldnt risk it. He was about to answer when suddenly Aulairs chest had a quarter-sized hole in it, right through the heart. A booming bass voice answered seemingly from the sky, I veto.
A triangular green and black ship zoomed out of one of The Rocks many docking tunnels, making for the skies. It looked like an Arada, but it was moving faster than any such ship had a right to move. Suddenly it stopped maneuvering and just flew straight. The last Zern and his colleagues saw of the Arada was a bright orange fireball on the monitoring screens.
We lost another one?! Zern screamed. You have to be kidding me! Weve been working on this damned engine for months, and it malfunctions every time! This is costing Rago and his buddies one hell of a lot of money, and theyre not going to like it!
Relax, Zern. Once we get it to work, the moneyll more than be made up when faster Aradas and Laziras start showing up on raids. Remember, this is necessary for the larger refit project, Alsor tried to soothe the angry scientist.
I know, I know. Im just scared that one of these days, theyll come down here to check up on us, and we wont have anything to show them. Laszlo isnt exactly known for his mellow demeanor.
The Arada captain had finished sketching out his idea. He stepped back and looked at it now. It was a pursuit missile, but it was missing a warhead. Instead, there were various connectors and ports at the end of the engine body. In essence, it was a modular pursuit missile. You could simply attach a regular warhead to the body, or you could make a cluster variant. Or a variant that only disabled ships. Or a variant that knocked out electronics. So many possibilities...
This particular Arada captain had once worked under Zern, so he knew where to find the chief tech. Unfortunately for him, he got to that section of The Rock just as the prototype Arada had exploded out in space. He could hear the screaming from a couple hundred meters down the hall, so he figured he should probably proceed with extreme caution.
Zern suddenly exited the monitoring room and saw the captain in the hallway. He pulled out his phase pistol and aimed it. Now just what in the nine hells do you think youre doing down here, Tuo? You know youre not allowed to come back after you leave. Youre generally not allowed to live after you leave this place, but well let that slide, seeing as thats going to be rectified in a minute or so.
Wait, Zern. I have something you want to see.
Unless its a picture of your sister naked in bed, I dont think so. He pulled the trigger, and then Tuo also had a hole through his heart. He fell to the floor dead, dropping the sketchpad. Zern went over and picked it up. He realized simultaneously that Tuo had been correct, and that he, Zern, was now in deep, deep s###.
Project title: Improved engines ETA: Sunday, Feb. 13
Project title: Arada refit ETA: Monday, Feb. 14
RESEARCH CONTINUED
Project title: Prelim. plans for new ranged weapon ETA: Friday, Feb. 11
New Ship Construction 1 Crescent Warship (in Hrekka) 2 Laziras (in DSN-2131) 6 Aradas (in Hrekka) 40 Crescent Fighters (in Hrekka)
This post has been edited by asriel : 11 February 2005 - 10:27 AM
A typical day on Nimor newly appointed minister Garette thought to himself, but he knew that the rather hum-drum life in the Feviry system would be radically altered by the time he was through...Plans had been formulated, and now his luck had turned for the better; the other ministers were perfectly suited to the tasks he had in store, even the motive was there plain as Ursula itself. Riddled with anger vengence and loyalty they had a strong resolve for thier personal motives, although it was sometimes difficult to keep the peace when they werre all in one room at the same time...
"Rten, what are your contacts up too? Any luck siphoning off the supplies we need?"
"Not really Greg, The new 'anti-corruption' legistlature has caused things to get a little more difficult, but the MTC remains as corrupt as ever."
"And you Cayole? Any thoughts or musings? or are you just dreaming up another melodramatic FLF slogan?"
"Actually I just recieved word that an uprising was just put out on Pozdag-3, I expect the survivors, what few there may be, will likely end up down here or on Hazdriar. If not they'll be dead, and thus not survivors. But what is really interesting is that the rebels had a small fleet assembled before they were eraticated, and it included a zidara."
"A Zidara? Are you sure?"
"Quite. If the rebels managed to get thier claws on a zidara then they must have either managed to steal it ,a daunting task in and of itself, or the insurection went deep into the military, a fact that could be to our advantage when the disidents arrive, if ever."
"Indeed. Rvnei, do you have anything to say?"
"1. that we need proper facilities on this rock in order to maintain our forces, however small they may be. and 2. we're out of cookies in the break room."
"Only you would bring up baked goods in a meeting...Alas I conceed to your first point--we need to updatde that poor excuse for a shipyard into something that can actually build ships, and possibly do occasionaly retrofits. The cookies will have to wait until the next shipment..."
"Ok, I'll get to it. Order me some equipment from Ursula, I think this is going to be a lost cause without enough tools..."
--- Fleet Status Positoned in Feviry
12 crecent fighters 4 aradas (minimal armament) 2 miranu couriers
Research status
General Facilites Upgrade: Adds minimal outfitters, and a small shipyard. Allows minimal retrofitting when nescessary ETA: 7-8 days
This post has been edited by ~vIsitor~ : 10 February 2005 - 08:00 PM
"Master? We have the information on research that you requested," said the Master's youngest aide. The Master turned and approached the simulation in the center of the room. "Good. Let's see it." "As you wish, Master." The aide silently flipped a switch. The lights dimmed and the simulation came to life, showing the two latest designs. One was an armor upgrade designed to increase the effectiveness of the Renegade's ship armor by half. The other was a modified version of the phase weaponry, which fired slightly faster and a little more accurately. However, it's main feature was the an improvement to the damage that it did to armor. "Excellent. And what time do you expect to finish these designs?" the Master asked. "In about three to four days, Master," the aide replied, looking pleased. "Well done." The Master stood up and left the room.
Research and Development (This my first try at this, so I hope these are okay.) Armor Upgrade Estimated time to completion: 4 days
Improved phase weaponry Estimated time to completion: 3 days
Mavs System: 8 Crecent Warships 18 Laziras 73 Renegade Aradas 450 Crescent Fighters
DSN-6107 System: 8 Crescent Warships 19 Laziras 58 Aradas 390 Crescent Fighters
New Ship Construction 1 Crescent Warship (in DSN-6107) 2 Laziras (in DSN-6107) 6 Aradas (3 in DSN-6107, 3 in Mavs) 40 Crescent Fighters (in DSN-6107)
This post has been edited by Selax : 11 February 2005 - 06:25 PM
_History was a blur. The civilized races of the Galaxy had long since forgotten the time before the Great Conflict. The Homeless still told tales of the days of peace, but even their tales were twisted beyond whatever once must have been the truth. The tales they spoke of were grim. They said that for millennia, the Council ruled all the Strands and kept them at bay, but there was a price to be paid. A large society could never tolerate misfits and unconformity so the Council had to get rid of those who disrupted the order. Violent criminals were easy, they could be executed immediately, but those who advocated change, expansion or disagreed with the rulers sometimes had too much political clout. The Council decided to do the second best thing and send them away as brave new colonists to new planets. Once the exiles arrived at their destination, they were stripped of all tools and left to fend for themselves.
No one can even guess how many died but in a few places, the colonists lived, and some even began to thrive. They called themselves the Homeless, the first new colonists of the Galactic South.
The Council was unable to hold power over the North forever and eventually they relinquished control to regional authorities, but their machinations continued to control the course the Galaxy followed. The regional authorities continued to pour refugees into the Southern regions, and the exiled region grew.
Then came the war.
The Homeless speculated that it was the Councils doing; it was their bid to maintain control over the Galaxy no matter the cost. However, the Homeless had no proof and in any case the Strands would never have listened to them. To the civilized races, they were nothing more than criminal dogs. Nonetheless, they survived and with the continued influx of outcasts and pacifistic idealists, they grew, but any central meaning or lifestyle they once held was lost. They were divided and lost.
The war continued and more exiles were sent, the Azdgari and the Igadzra stopped executing prisoners in favor of the more financially sound method of permanent exile and a new rush of exiles came. The new ones had weapons experience and intelligence, but they were ruthless and with the aid of the original Homeless twisted with years of hatred they overthrew two smaller outposts that had been set up for mining and surveillance of an emerging race to the north. These renegades built up the largest force they could manage and attacked the Igazras southern border only to be beaten back miserably. Their resources were far too short to find the revenge they sought, so they turned to pirating their weaker neighbors.
A few short decades later, the Strandless worlds were hardly recognizable as colonies. They were nothing more than giant ghettos. The strongest of them were unable to do any more than meagerly defend themselves and the weakest were easy prey for the Renegades_
Chapter 1: Alliance of Necessity
A crowd of several hundred stood packed together, just unloaded from the immigration center in the capital city of Gemelthe. The night was pitch dark and completely starless, but they all were on Tibidat. For that matter, all the days were dark. The thick smog covered almost all of the light. The planet was a hellish world. The days and nights were dark but it was always hot. The wealthy Strandless were able to overlook this fact, their dwelling rose far into the sky without any windows and they rarely, if ever, entered the world around them.
All right. Line up! The guard was dressed in the standard military uniform; he was a purebred but actually was born on Tibidat. He had no aptitude for flying so hed been sentenced to a lifetime of dealing with the incoming prisoners upon joining the military. He hated his job and he hated his life but he knew who was to blame for it all.
Oh, woe is me! The cruel gods have cast me out of my blessed home and forced me into this pitiable den of squalor. If only I had stayed, I could have died by my beloveds side and An audible groan was heard clearly as the Igadzra standing next to the melodramatic Zidagar gave him a hard punch in the gullet.
Line up! Hurry it up or you dont eat!
At the threat of starvation, they lined up quickly. All the refugees had been shuttled in during the day and quarantined for safety. Diseases which were hardly even a difficulty to the Strands could be incredibly fatal to the poverty-stricken Strandless. Theyd all spent a minimum of a few hours in disinfectant gasses and been checked up for any viruses. Two of them wouldnt be coming out of solitary for a few more months. It would probably be easier to just kill them than to pay for their health, but the Strands had imposed sanctions on Strandless planets for less in the past. It was far safer to be cautious.
The line of refugees were each assigned a waiting number for the interview in order to determine their optimal job. Those with any experience in technology would be drafted into the research facilities, those with any flight experience would be drafted into the air corps and those without any skills would be drafted into hard labor. That was the way things worked.
Twelve! A pale woman came forward and a few whistles came from the guards.
Damn, a Miranu! I havent seen one of them for weeks. Hope she makes it a little longer than the last one. If shes another elite without any skills itll be death by hard labor, shes way to frail
Twenty-four!
The melodramatic Zidigar stepped forward and into the booth. The interviewer looked him over. What do you do?
Do you know the name Zigrabar Emalphus III?
No, what do you do?
I am the greatest pilot to ever grace this poor miserable little galaxy! I have flown a Zidigar fighter solo against six Igazras and emerged without a scratch. Once I was allowed to pilot a Zidara I single-handedly won the battle of Yamus. I am
Shut the hell up! Youre a pilot, got it. But if youre so good what the Hell are you doing here?
I have been aggrieved terribly by the unjust operators of justice. The warriors of Zid destroyed my beloved in an assault against a minor rebellion. Then they accused me of conspiracy! They had the nerve to accuse me of being a rebel! Those fools
SHUT UP! Bring in the next one and send this bastard to the flight training facility.
Training! I need no training, I am the God of pilots
SHUT UP! You are more annoying than most Zidagar now go away!
A few hours later, the interviews were done and the prisoners were dispersed. A tall mongrel came down from the wall above as the last prisoners were escorted through the gate. It looks like a big group today, anything of interest?
Commander! The person who had been conducting the interviews stared at shock at the other mongrel. He was hardly distinguishable as having any independent Strand blood in him. It was said he was almost a pureblooded Homeless, one of the original exiles that had eked out a life on the planet. Physically speaking it made sense, he was huge and incredibly well built, but he was downright ugly, not that anyone said that to his face. Yes, there was one interesting character today. The Miranu was...she was
She was a Miranu, thats interesting but it doesnt help.
No sir, it doesnt. She was a genius, though. She said she had some technical expertise and so I gave her the standard questions and she whizzed through them as quickly as I could call up my computer to retrieve the answers. I gave her a standardized intelligence test and she scored a perfect, that should be impossible but she did it.
And she left Miranu space? I dont think the Miranu would force her to leave if she was that perfect.
She said that she had been working on a secret project for the Zachit, which she wouldnt give me any information about and said she would take with her to the grave, and the Renegades grabbed her. The Zachit launched a rescue attempt but they were beaten back and she was held for a few years before she managed to break herself free and hitch a ride with a trader. She said she could never go back to Miranu space or theyd kill someone and then she broke down crying. I couldnt get any more out of her.
Very strange, Id like to see her as soon as she gets acclimated a little more.
Yes sir. Ill schedule it with the scientists lab.
The next morning the Commander sat at his computer and inhaled deeply. The war wasnt going well. The Renegades had been gaining forces faster than he could manage and their losses were relatively small in comparison. Along side that, the Renegades had leadership, the raids were no longer random and weak but small and calculated. There were new brains behind the outfit and that meant almost certain doom for the disorganized Strandless. Tibidat would be one of the last to fall, but it would almost definitely fall. Groned was already controlled by the pirates and Duois barely had even fighters to turn back even the weakest raids. If they fell completely Tibidat would be completely vulnerable and fall soon after.
Their only hope lay in their research department. Hed been gathering everyone he could with a bit of knowledge about technology and applying them to the ships. He gave them as free a rein as he could afford but he needed to organize the projects and he knew nothing about what technology would give him an edge. He needed a strategist and a scientist. He prayed that the Miranu girl would be able to help him, a scientist who could unite his patchwork group of technologists, but it took more than a genius to lead. Even if they were only leading thinkers.
Fleet Status
Tibidat: 5 Crescent Warships 15 Laziras 40 Aradas 200 Independent Crescent Fighters.
Technological development
Outfit all vessels with afterburners and arm Aradas with Dispersal Missiles and launchers: 1 RTD
A scientist working with explosives almost managed to kill himself while testing a microscopic amount of explosive. After salvaging through what was left of his notes and trying to rack his brain for information it is possible that the substance can be reproduced. We dont know how stable this product will be or what it can be used in at this time. Additional funds are being directed to this research.
This post has been edited by Paranoid : 10 February 2005 - 08:26 PM
Exile.
Betrayer.
I heard the whispers. The names they called me behind my back at the bars. A trader, they thought. Down on his luck. Strandless because of what he'd done.
But I had done nothing.
I did not fight. I did not kill. I refused. The Zidagar are my brothers. The Azdgari are my brothers. The Igazdra are my brothers. We are all brothers, along with the Miranu, and whatever other races are out there. They told me Thou Shalt Kill, and I asked, "Why? What could our brothers have done that is so terrible?"
So I was banished, shunned for my refusal to sink to the level of my brethren. And now, they count me in with the scum who warrant the names, the Renegades of the South Tip.
But no more. I am sick of being a trader. I am sick of merely fending off the Renegades and their piratical greed. I am sick of the sneers I get when I travel.
I have found a why for fighting. The why is disgust. The why is anger. The why is the need to defend those who cannot defend themselves. The why is proving them wrong.
And the way is through the South Tip. The Strandless there know me. Their defense forces trusts me. They will provide me with the men and metal that must be sacrificed upon the altar of victory, the blood that must be paid so that we may sleep sound at night, so that we may look at the warring Crescent and know that their way is wrong, that there is peace, for the South Tip shall have peace.
I am beyond the need for vengeance now. Those who wronged me have long-since died at the hands of those they sought to kill. What drives me is the anger, the almost sorrowful regret that I have wasted my life trying to live peacefully in a galaxy that knows only war. I have only a few years left before the hereafter, and I will spend them well. No one else shall be forced to live as I have. As one brother to a galaxy full of brothers, I swear that much.
My name is Inukai Zegara.
The galaxy will know me as Peacemaker and Brother.
<-> <->
Captain Mahavir Jorgund, commanding officer of the Farstar , looked at himself in the reflection on the deep blue surface of his drink. He absent-mindedly peeled the label off the bottle he'd emptied over the past two hours. He wasn't sure if it was the liquor or the stims, but he was certain he could feel the backs of his eyeballs crawling.
He desperately wanted nothing more than to go to sleep after having pulled a triple-shift on watch duty, but the stims that he'd used to keep himself awake wouldn't wear off for another hour or two. So he was here at The Bar, destroying a few brain cells and foredooming himself to an absolutely wonderful morning.
He smiled. Four years ago, if someone had told him to meet them at , "The Bar," he'd have asked, "Which bar?" In Akrayhek, the only bar that mattered was this one, where all the spacers came on their off-hours. There were beings of all sorts here; Miranu traders, Strandless crewers, and even a couple "humans" from some backwater called "Earth."
"You really shouldn't drink that stuff, it'll make you go blind." Without looking up, Mahavir smiled.
"And you really shouldn't be drinking that filth of a grog you call a drink. It'll make you impotent and fat." Captain Sedrik Xerao, chilled mug in hand, slid into the seat across from Mahavir.
"Well, your warning comes too late. I haven't seen my feet in years, and I haven't been laid in ages." Completing an old tradition, they touched their glasses and emptied them.
"What's the news? I hear the Old Man's got something special for us few, poor Warship captains."
"Oh, he does at that." Sedrik raised a hand - the one missing a few digits - to signal his request for another drink. "That's actually why I'm here. Your reward for your diligent triple-shift while the techs patched up my ship again is some paid-for upgrades. Shield augs, enhanced weaponry, ECM and sensor packs, the whole load."
Mahavir raised an eyebrow. "The downside?"
"You can never be optimistic, can you?" Mahavir shook his head. "Ah, well. Only drawback is, you lose your fighters. Gotta cut the bays out of the ships to get in all the extra goodies."
"That's hardly much of a downside."
"You Igadzra. Always with the warships," remarked Sedrik as he stood, taking his drink from an approaching waitress.
"Bah, go play with the little toys you call ships." Sedrik gave him an Azdgari's smile.
"Get some rest. You're gonna need it."
Crescent Warship Upgrade Program: 1 RTD -5 Crescent Warships -Turn into 5 South Tip Warships
Production: 1 RTD -Produce 5 South Tip Warships
Ship Count: NA -5 Crescent Warships -75 Aradas -240 Crescent Fighters -All in Akrayhek System
South Tip Warship -Shields: 2700 -Armour: 250 -Speed: 175 -Accel: 300 -Maneuver: 60 deg/sec -Fuel: 5 jumps -Shield Recharge: 1.35 pps -Cargo: 40 tons -Space: 0 tons -Max Guns/Turrets: 4/4 -Cost: 9,307,500 -Mass: 100 tons -Length 120 meters -Crew: 61 -Availability: Akrayhek -Special: Initiates hyperjump fast -Weapons: --4 Phase Turrets --50 SAD Modules --2 SAD Launchers --1 ECM System --2 Mass Expansions --1 Sensor Upgrade --4 Shield Boosters --2 Pursuit Missile Launchers --50 Pursuit Missiles
This post has been edited by Admiral Benden : 10 February 2005 - 08:53 PM
OOC: I am exhausted from going halfway across the country in a plane. Bear with me. ----------
"Report."
"No Voinian activity in a few weeks sir. Makes you wonder, huh?"
"No." Why it suprised the trainee, Mindule could not tell. The Voinians were sneaky bastards. They could be planning an attack right now.
He shivered. May the gods help us against those damnable aliens. He mentally laughed at his own joke. Gods. Where were the gods when the Voinians enslaved his entire family so many years ago? Where were the gods when he prayed every night to be away from the wretched monsters. Did the gods help him when he was stowed away, torn from his family, in a Voinian frigate, fired from an escape pod into the atmosphere of Emalghia, at the age of six? No. The gods did not exist. He doubted anyone on the whole damn planet believed in them.
He belted the metal wall with his fist, causing extreme pain and stares from everyone in the room. The Director of Militia glared at no one in particular and stormed out.
In DSN-8209, a relay drone did nothing. It did nothing. It sent a message to the drone in DSN-8200, telling it that it was doing nothing. Nothing happened.
The Director of Science and Technological Advancements had recieved the message days ago. Weeks, maybe. He read the title and author, and sent it to his "To Do" folder. It read:
Message From: Admiral Mineaux Message Subject: Uh... New drone design?
The Director, only referred to by his colleagues as Bosch (No one actually knew his real name, and he did in fact sign everything with simply 'Bosch'), imagined what the letter contained. Probably something alone the lines of I was wondering... I mean, not to pry, but, do you have that new drone design yet? We're waiting for it, but, you know, we can have it later. I'm just saying... Well.. Good day. Indecisive, nervous, and somewhat a coward. That is, off the battlefield. It was almost like a split personality. In a fight... Well, Mineaux was one of the only people Bosch had ever respected.
The Director then did something he hadn't done in months. He did his job.
Technology and Development:
Attack Drone: Uses a single Emalgha cannon, but is easily replaceable. Completely AI controlled, but may be slaved to an appropriate command ship for Emalghan control. Contains no cargo room, but decent speed, shielding, and armor. ETA: 3 Days (Sunday, February 13th)
Enhanced Sensors: Incorperates all sensor technology in general, both for war and exploration. ETA: 4 Days (Monday, February 14th)
Turret Upgrade: Makes the Emalgha turret a real, live, 360 degree turret. ETA: 2 Days (Saturday, February 12th)
This post has been edited by grunadulater : 12 February 2005 - 08:08 PM
The Faithful, Chapter Two Garden of Peace, High Citadel of the Paladin Order, Tumni
Samael Deran sat alone in meditation near one of the many fountains spread around the Garden of Peace. He did this often, and had been doing so since he had first received his sword and begun the life of a Paladin. All his life he had dedicated his every waking moment to defending his people. He had fought in countless campaigns, first against the ever present Renegades to the north, where he'd sent the flagship of some chieftain or another crashing down in a burning wreck upon the surface of The Rock, then against his people's constant enemies the Azdgari and Igadzra. There had been countless victories, but there had also been unavoidable defeats, and the candles he lit each year at the Shrine of Remembrance bore silent testament to the friends he had lost in both.
It was a strange thing for him to feel such painful remorse after all these years, but then, having the blood of thousands of your own people on your hands had an inescapable effect. Visions of a mighty Crescent Warship came unbidden to his mind... the first ship he'd ever destroyed in battle. Those were Renegades though. Enemies of the Zidagar, worthless thugs responsible already for the death of many innocents. What was the crime of the children who's bodies he'd seen charred and crushed in the rubble of Pozdag-3? Zidagar children. People he'd spent his life protecting, dead by his orders. Rebels?
A sigh escaped his lips, breaking the silence in which he'd been sitting. This wasn't helping. He stood up and opened his eyes, taking in the beauty of the garden surrounding him. Walking back towards the entrance to the Citadel proper, he thought back to his conversation, or rather, lack of conversation, with the prisoner from Pozdag. Yet another thing he would have thought impossible before the harsh reality of a planet in rebellion had assaulted him. Which was the more unbelievable? The Rebellion? Or the man who had led it?
Consulat Halls, the Great Temple of Zid, Zidagar
Brenon Sernak was frowning as he sat and listened to the members of the Council of Government drone on for the third hour in succession. Of course, this wasn't really all that strange, Brenon Sernak was always frowning. That, or exibhiting some other form of unpleasant facial expression. Even when he was happy, which was a rarity to be sure, the High Inquisitor was bound to look unpleasant. That just came with the territory of overseeing an organization who's very mention struck fear into the hearts of all but most pure, or the most foolish.
At the moment, however, Brenon's aims were no more sinister than making it through this council meeting. So far he'd already heard high ranking members of the Clergy present on subjects ranging from agriculture reform on the frontier, or new colonization projects, to the latest ambitious projects being undertaken by the military and scientific community. There was a general rise in the volume of useless prattle between the various members as the latest speaker finished up his presentation and was replaced by an ailing Minor Consul from Vlagos. Noticing who was taking the podium Brenon masked his new interest in what was going on by stifling a yawn and ordering a page to bring him something to drink. This would be interesting.
Bringing himself to his full, but frail from age, stature, the MInor Consul began his speech. "Honorable members of the Council, I come before you with news of a grave and growing threat to the very heart of our society!" Murmurs spread through the chamber, but gradually died out as he continued. "You may think that I exaggerate, but I assure you that what I speak of will destroy every vestige of our way of life if we do not act soon!"
"All you need do is look to the smoking ruins of Pozdag-3's major cities to see the proof of what I speak. It is no coincidence which world it was that tried to break free of our Holy covenant. It is also no coincidence that over the past months there have been riots on not only that world, but Saffera, Twyus, Neeg, and Filider. It has always been that the worlds of the frontier have been backwards, but their continued unrest is due to more than simple bad breeding! There is a dark and malevolent influence working on them... and it is time we took actions to protect ourselves!"
At this point the murmurs had once again reached a crecendo. The High Inquisitor observed the commotion around him with inward amusement, they were such sheep these "Consuls." Only one person in the room seemed to be unaffected by the fiery oratory and thinly veiled passion of the demagogue. Urian Treval, aging but not yet infirm, he was the Consul chosen from among the Paladin Order, and was the High Inquisitor's rank counterpart. He sat opposite Brenon, and was actually look directly at him as the Consul from Vlagos raised his voice above the din.
"I speak of none other than the Godless Infidels from the west, the Miranu! Every day they bring their lies and poison into our space, tainting the minds of our people and leading them into sin. It is time we acted! We can not allow these Unbelievers to subvert the Holy Worlds any longer! We must expel these devils from our borders once and for all!"
The murmurs had grown to outright shouting at this point. Half of the room was screaming with fanatic intensity that the Miranu traders be expelled, the rest shouting for the old fool to sit down. It was Urian that stood and with his booming voice, restored order.
"All of you be SILENT! "
The broad and imposing form of the ancient Paladin, combined with the edge of command that demanded immediate compliance had the room back to it's former levels of hushed conversation instantly. Glaring at the councilors still refusing to sit, he went on. "Drek, I've heard the same nonsense from one fool after another for decades. What proof do you have that the Miranu have had anything to do with unrest on any Holy World?"
Sernak would have laughed out loud if it would not have ruined the moment. This was going to be all the sweeter. Urian was sitting down as various other Consuls demanded to see proof. The Consul from Vlagos, however, was not fuming silently in his seat, we was standing up with a datapad in his hand and a predatory grin on his face. "I'm glad you asked honorable Paladin! Here is my Proof!"
Waved the datapad franticly in front of his face, then slammed it into the port which displayed it's contents on the large holo-emmiter in the center of the room. At this point, the High Inquisitor couldn't resist a thin smile as he read the forged sensor and communication logs he had delivered clandestinely into the perfect hands. It was simple really, and it would be taken as completely genuine.
"You see! The Miranu have been plotting against us all along, it is they who have constantly fomented rebellion among us! We must expel their traders from our space immediately! Can I get a vote on the floor!?"
High Inquisitor Brenon Sernak suppressed his smile, all was proceeding according to his plan.
Zidagar Research and Special Projects
Stror Colonization Initiative --- 8 RTD --- A Task Force consisting of 45 Zidaras and 72 Fighters, accompanied by 180 Freight Aradas will be detached to the Stror System, there to immediately begin colonization of it's three habitable moons. The Zidaras will provide military protection in the system, while the non-carried Zidagar Fighters provide escort for groups of Aradas traveling between Stror and Saffera.
Once the industries and other facilities of the new colonies have been established the Zidagar will gain a modest boost to production. A military outpost will also be established for the maintenance of a continued Zidagar presence in the system.
Plasma Warhead Development ---6 RTD--- A highly advanced warhead that can inflict significantly greater damage against both shields and armor than current technology. Will be implemented in three new delivery systems tailored for different tactical situations.
Stand-Alone Generators ---5 RTD--- A highly efficient stand alone Fusion generator that can perform a variety of high energy tasks. It's most immediate application will be to eliminate the Phased Beam's need to use a ship's fuel reserves effectively allowing for continued use of this weapon. The generator is hooked into the ship's main power grid however, so it can be used for other tasks such as temporarily providing boosts to shields or engines. Due to the strain placed on the generators, they can not perform two of these tasks simultaneously.
The corridors of Freeport station were dark and smoky, with an organic odor that the improvised life support systems would never eliminate. The few overhead lights were dim and yellow, letting off an electric hum as they struggled to illuminate the mysterious faded stains on the peeling, dull paint of the walls. Here and there, there lay exhausted renegades, invariably slumped over bottles of Saalian brandy. The man who now walked down the corridors concealed under a long, hooded black coat had nothing but contempt for them. They were nothing but a twisted parody of the true soldiers of the Renegade movement, who were at that very moment dying as UE rockets put holes through their fragile ships while these...cowards...lived.
The doors of the meeting room exploded open under an angry sweeping gesture from the man's hands. The inside of the meeting room was like an entirely different system. In perfect condition, the meeting room was adorned with priceless Old Masters works of art on the walls, and in the center, a round table of rare wood. Those spaces on the wall not occupied by the art were filled with bookshelves of the same rare wood, containing copies of the greatest pieces of thought to be produced by a human mind since the dawn of time.
Around the table was seated a collection of some of the most dangerous individuals alive. There was Freeport Fred Michaels, the peacekeeper of the station and the second-best shot with a pistol among all the Renegades. All who survived it admired Fred's work; there had been no major battles onboard the station since the years when Fred and his men had methodically exterminated all renegade factions on the station that were hostile to the Captains.
Next to Fred was Christian O'Grady, captain of the turncoat Terra's Dark Foe. His ancestors were among the operatives who initiated the first revolt on Pariah; their ancestors before them were IRA.
Next to Christian was Ian Ki, of Iothe, to whom the Captains turned on technical matters when the man next to him was unavailable or uncooperative. Small, fair-haired, and about a quarter Asian, Ian was the closest thing the Captains had to a conscience, a role that he had fallen into from defending his homeworld.
Next to Ian was Spacemine Shawn MacDarien, reknowned almost as widely for his incomprehensible Scottish accent as for the brute force his fleet uses, usually bringing all eight of his turncoats to bear on the escorts of every convoy he hits.
Next to Shawn was Turncoat Trisha McVeighly, who defected from the UE Navy in what erupted into a 14-ship battle, during which her destroyer took out six others before being destroyed. Somehow, she got Needle Edwards himself to outfit her new turncoat for her. The resulting work, widely regarded as Edwards masterpiece, is the only turncoat known to be able to beat the Nadir into a retreat in toe-to-toe battle.
Next to Trisha was Proxima Paul Presley, a skilled captain and ruthless raider, famed for a daring raid he made on Pareen in the Valos system. As the contact in charge of the smuggling of Saalian brandy to Freeport, he has an influence that is sometimes resented by the other captains but is known to be key in maintaining morale among the masses.
Next to Presley was Jargon Jo Halls, the infamous Black Widow of Verril. When she was eighteen, her family decided to emigrate from Earth to Verril Prime and in order to avoid traffic, the pilot of their freighter decided to travel via Eltor. A Voinian Cruiser was in the system waiting for prey, having traveled through Pax. The freighter was badly damaged, but with some incredible luck, the pilot destroyed the Voinian heavy fighters with his single Blaze turret, allowing him to put a distance cushion between his ship and the Cruiser. Unfortunately, the reactor was damaged, and when the freighter jumped to hyperspace, most of the ship was flooded with radiation. As the ship limped at fractional speed through hyperspace to Verril, Jo watched her parents take two weeks to die in agony. When the freighter arrived at Verril, only Jo was left alive. Alone and without possessions, Jo only took a few weeks before killing her first UE officer. By the time she had stolen enough from the bodies to buy herself a ship, her serial killing had left forty-three UE personnel dead. The other captains try not to show it outwardly, but Jo unnerves them with her willingness to accept the dirtiest missions with only damage to the UE as a reward. She also holds the record for greatest number of turncoats lost she is currently without one, having steered her last one into a UE Carrier in a manoever that left her as the only survivor between both vessels.
Next to her was Hellcat Helen, a ferocious combatant known to challenge men to knife fights for leering at her. Found as an orphan wandering the streets of Gribn during a raid, Helens devotion to what she considers her adoptive family is absolute. She is as committed to the pirates lifestyle as she is to the intellectual movement of Renegadism, and an excellent shot to boot.
Next to Helen, and one empty seat away from Fred, there sat Needle Edwards, whose first name was still unknown to the others, leading to some speculation as to whether he did, in fact, have a fist name. Dark-haired, and darker-skinned than average for his Caucasian race, Edwards spoke with a high-class British accent. Brilliant inventor and the intellectual champion of Renegadism, Edwards is a genius whose intellect is admired even by the UE officers who try in vain to hunt him down. His scholarly works, both intensely conservative and shockingly radical, are widely acknowledged as extremely sophisticated texts and are studied in universities throughout human space. He is also the one Renegade capable of outfighting Freeport Fred with a small arm. As an engineer, he has probably caused more damage to the UE than any other living in the modern time, considering how static Voinian technology has been. Best known in the engineering field for the design of the compact, fast-firing, well-guided needle missile, Edwards also designed the defensive systems of the Freeport station.
Edwards has often been sought out to customize Turncoats for the most skilled captains, but he has only done three thus far. The first one was his, the Black Firestar. The second, he built for a young man who he had hoped would be his apprentice, seeing as he had the potential to at least match Edwards own skill. This young man, however, was rebellious in more ways than just his dyed-red hair and multiple piercings. He first grew annoyed at, then scornful of the intellectual aspects of the Renegade movement; then he became aggravated by the codes that the Renegades followed in raiding to ensure their own survival. Confident that with his own further modifications on Edwards design, he could take out anything that came after him, the apprentice turned on his master, destroying the Black Firestar and several other Turncoats.
That young man called himself the Nadir.
Since the day he broke off ties with the Renegade establishment, the Nadir has eluded or eliminated all attempts to bring him under control. He raids from UE, independent, and Renegade ships alike. And until a year ago, there was no ship powerful enough to bring him down. A year ago, a defector calling herself Turncoat Trisha, still in shock at her own betrayal of her former comrades, wandered blithely into Edwards quarters to ask for a ship, not knowing of how he had turned down hundreds before her. Somehow, he knew right away that Trisha had the skills necessary to best the Nadir and handle what was to be the finest ship that Edwards ever made: The Blue Wraith.
The man in the coat took his seat in between Edwards and Fred, who greeted him. Captain Ascia, how incredibly kind it is of you to join us. Siddown, weve got business to do.
Renegade Research and Projects (still need approval, will modify if necessary): Krait Needle Initiative: Whenever a Krait is docked, upgrade it with a Needle launcher taking up 15 of the 20 space. Instruct the pilot in Needle tactics, i.e. using superior performance to stay away from enemy weapons while needling the opposing vessel to death, if he or she is available. ~4 RTD. Interference Capsule System: It is known that UE hunter missiles are jammed by high interference, which caused the development of the needle missile. This system will hold a concentrated packet of dissonant energy (interference) which can be released by a ship about to be hit by a Hunter Missile, causing the hunter missile to lose targeting. ~3 RTD.
A young Miranu woman walked down a dark backalley outside the Blaga spaceport. Wearing a black trenchcoat and an equally black backpack, she was almost indistinguishable from the shadows of the urban night. Rounding a corner, she saw two Miranu men, dressed in similar attire, waiting near a dead-end. Silently she approached them.
"We've been waiting for nearly twenty minutes," said one of the men in a low voice. "What kept you?"
"I had some difficulty slipping these papers through security," she said, removing her backpack and patting it with her hand. "It seems the government has put its investigators on a higher level of alert".
"Sounds like Kitanu's trying to make things difficult on us again," the other man snarled. "First he tries to ram that investigative bill through the senate, and now this. I can't believe the northern worlds won him the election and made him Governor."
The previous election, held in 3 YBP (years before present), had been a divisive one. Four southeastern Miranu worlds, more heavily influenced by (and dependent upon) the MTC, had voted for a more pro-business candidate in hopes of decreased scrutiny of MTC trade practices (and, by extension, corruption). But the remainder of the Miranu worlds voted decidedly for the more moralistic, pragmatic candidate Kitanu, who won by a factor of nearly 2 to 1 and then took office. The next election wouldn't be for six more years. Needless to say, this didn't please the less moral agents of the MTC.
"Anyway," the woman said, "everything you need to forge the subsidy papers for your franchise should be in here."
"Excellent," the men smiled.
"But remember, fifteen percent of your profits go directly to the MTC..." she cautioned, a serious look on her face. "Because you wouldn't want us to have to expose you as frauds."
"We understand."
"The MTC thanks you for your... business," she said, and then turned and walked into the darkness.
"Did you finish the letter to your family?" ensign Kotik asked his co-pilot. He recieved a nod in response.
"Good, then I'll transmit it along with our last status report. After that it'll be time for radio silence. We're within two jumps of human-travelled space now, and we can't risk being detected." Kotik entered several commands into his console, and within seconds a light flashed on the screen indicating that the status report files, along with his co-pilot's letter, had been relayed to a comms bouy for transmission back to Mirava.
On the main viewscreen, the bright streaks of hyperpaces faded, dissolving into a familiar starfield. "Now entering DSN-9608", intoned a computer generated voice. "Commencing radio silence and powering down non-essential systems".
"I'll man the passive scanners," Kotik told his co-pilot, "you keep an eye out for any other ships entering the system. No Sentinel has ever been spotted doing his job, and I don't intend for us to be the first."
Ongoing Research:
(Just a note, Captain Carnotaur: Your Graviton Beam is almost the same as Master of Orion's Graviton beam, namely a combined tractor/repulsor beam. The difference is that the MOO Graviton fires both at the same time.)
"I'd say about 5 Crescent Warships on patrol with ten on reserve. That should present the greatest problem."
Peter thought for a moment. "Divide and conquer wouldn't work. Those SAD modules, while slow, can pose a good threat."
"Lure?"
Peter looked up. "What?"
"Lure. Remember, in this game," the captain in question held up an old storage medium, called a CD-ROM. "The AI is just plain sh!t, and will chase to the death any target it finds. I've observed these renegades, they're just the same."
He nodded. "Good one, Jake. I'll put a suggestion over at the station commander's sqawk box, make sure he hears about it."
Peter turned on his heel, and left.
"Identification number 78028435, name Nohrgen, Peter."
The door slid open. In there was another door, and a console.
He walked to the console, and entered a message. Peter then left.
_TO: SOUTH TIP STATION COMMANDER
Have a plan for destroying small renegade fleet. Have defense fleet ready in two weeks.
Nohrgen_
Research: 1. Synthesize Hahnium (+200 Fuel) ETA: Wednesday, February 16 2. Design and Construct New Reactor Shell (Removes chance of overload, AKA Warp Core Breach) ETA: Wednesday, February 16
OOC: Apparently I can't do math. 5% of 125 is 6, not 19. Selax, I suggest you change your figures accordingly.
Rago walked down the twisting halls of The Rocks research complex, passing massive steel doors on each side. He had somehow escaped that hellish meeting after Laszlo shot Aulair from his secret perch -- not so secret anymore, clearly. But it had served its purpose, which was to prevent direct or indirect threats to Rago.
Rago held a schematic detailing how the Renegades could outfit their ships with pursuit missiles, which would greatly increase their effectiveness against the pesky Zachit fighters and Aradas. Or any small ship, for that matter. He approached the door that marked the monitoring room and pressed his hand to the scanplate. The door swung open, and Zern and friends froze.
Uhhh...Rago! How nice to...see you today.
Hi, Zern. Hows that engine going?
Just...fine. Its going great, in fact! We should have a prototype to show you in a few days...
Sounds great. Listen, I had this idea that maybe we should put pursuit missiles on our smaller ships to combat fighters better.
In that case, maybe you want to see this. Zern handed Rago the electrosketch with the modular missile plan on it.
Holy crap. Where in the hells did you get this idea from?
Did you see Tuos body in the hallway? He was holding this electrosketch, but I shot him before he could give it to me.
The idiot...whyd he try to come back here by himself? In any case, this modular missile thing looks like it could be great. I want it augmented with the new engines as well, to increase its range and power.
Zern looked a bit shaky as he answered. Er...right. The new engine. Well be right on it.
Title: Stalker missile project Entails: Improves the range and speed of the pursuit missile, and adds a modular warhead system. Warheads currently being developed are single (more powerful than original pursuit missile) and cluster. ETA: Tuesday Feb. 15
Title: Prelim. plans for Lazira and Crescent Warship refits ETA: Sunday Feb. 13
Title: Improved engines ETA: Sunday, Feb. 13
Title: Arada refit (details will be posted on the 13th) ETA: Monday, Feb. 14
New Ship Construction
1 Crescent Warship (in DSN-2131) 2 Laziras (in DSN-2131) 6 Aradas (in Hrekka) 40 Crescent Fighters (in Hrekka)