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Darkk read his copy of the delaration slowly. It was starting. He read the request from Spamo, to make more of the enemy head back to their own space. Darkk would make them pay more attention to him. Mm, fireworks...
Trandarik was a small port, on 5 minor trade lines in Salrilian space, protected by an orbital complex. It would never know what hit it.
Darkk's forces came out of the jumpgate within 300 meters of the station, a rather exemplery feet of precision jumping, but nothing exceptional. The Sals began to rally... Darkk, however, didn't plan on his ships fighting at all. In the station were 25 cruisers, and 125 fighters, as well as serious external weapondry. Not fun. Darkk had other plans.
Or rather, Sarah Darkk had THE plans. With the plans to the Salrilian standard orbital military complex (type 345), William had formed a devious trick. The ATR managed to drop all its EVATs before the station (most importantly its shields) could come online. They planted fusion bores at strategic intervals on the hull, calculated to hit fuel tanks. The bores were engaged as the EVATs pushed off. The bores, usually used to burn through airlock doors, worked quickly, then struck.
In seconds the station was rocketing ... down. Darkk's men watched in awe the aesthetic spectical as the outwitted Sals plunged to their doom. Then they feasted upon the now-helpless Salrilian cargo vessles.
Later that night, on SPBN: "Today vicious human pirates staged a massive, (treacherous?), totally unprovoked attack upon a peaceful shipping port, killing hundreds and costing billions of credits. The Oracular Network has now devoted a full 0.158 percent of its processing time to the destruction of the 'Darkklight Entrepenurial Federation', the group claiming responsobility for the attack. We believe this group is conducting these acts of barbarism (bad manners?) in futile retaliation for our protection <euphamism?> of Earth. The foolhardy Ishiman..." Sarah cut the link.
"Great work Will. Now they're going after us really hard." "That's the idea. It's virtually impossible to track down a mobile group like us, and the more they try, the more ships won't go to Earth." "I still think this is reckless..." "Then you should like it." "That wasn't funny 150 years ago, and it's still not." "Cut the sibling rivalry. I've got to figure out how to top this now..."
------------------ Formerly-Rampant Human-Coded AI
"I make this toast in honor of the Ishiman Stellar Protectorate, and their assistance in getting us on our way back home, and avenging our heritage. The Second occupation of Earth shall be its last! Luck to us all. Drink to our health!"
The bridge crew of the Mariposa tilted back their glasses of champagne. A small celebration was in order after Spamo recieved news of the declarations of war. The real chance of taking back Earth once and for all buoyed the hearts of all the UNS members. There was much to prepare for, but now was a time for celebration. The champagne was a good year, though he was saving the best for when they landed on Earth.
And that day shall come very soon I should think thought Spamo as he drank down the last of the bubbly spirits. The rest of the crew dissolved into excited chatter. Spamo himself was joking and laughing with a group of nervous young crewmembers when a message came through to him. Spamo excused himself and read the message.
"Damn. When did this arrive?"
"Fifteen minutes ago sir. The comm crew were all tipping back drinks. It doesn't look urgent though sir..."
Spamo nodded his assent. "Though it is a bad reminder. We may celebrate today of our chance at revenge, but we've got a long road ahead of us."
"Yes sir. And I'll be on it the entire way."
Spamo smiled at the young officer. She was one of the civilians that were pulled off of some of the UNS's outer colonies. Now part of the communications on the Mariposa.
"I'm glad. Go enjoy yourself tonight. We've got a big job to do."
"Yes sir, with pleasure."
With that she strode off into the party. Spamo glanced back down at the message. The Salrillians were on the move, and preliminary reports showed a strong resistance to their offensive. With a grunt, Spamo tucked the datapad into his belt, and returned to his crew. He would have plenty of worries later on, right now, he was going to forget some.
---------------------- (BERRUT SYSTEM)
The first offensive UNS strike team assembled in the Berrut system nearby UNS occupied space. They would begin the first steps along the long long road back to Sol.
------------------ Ne Cede Malis Sed Contra Audientor Ito
Wizr watched the Coalition Fleet Commander, Trey'sh Serrid of the Defence Commitee adressing his admirals on a screen, from a thousand light-years away. He was in charge of coordinating the actions of one of the largest and most powerful armadas ever assembled, and he was going to bring it to bear against the second largest navy in the known Galaxy. It didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.
"...the enemy which we face is the most well equipped in the Galaxy. Their forces outnumber and outgun even the fleet that we have ammassed along the fronteir. Because of the enemy's superior forces, our only option is to proceed with caution. I will not risk a rout at the hands of the Prophets by attacking when we are not prepared. Our forces have secured the fronteir, but one would be gravely mistaken to assume that the armada at our disposal could take on the occupying fleets in Sol and her outlying colonies.
As we cannot engage the enemy on level ground, our only choice is to fight them when we see fit. We will run lightning raids, fast, nimble strikes into the core of the occupied territory. As the enemy is without a gateship, their mobility is already limited. By destroying or disableing jumpgates throughout the UNS, we shall divide the Audemedon forces, separating them from eachother, and from the safety of their numbers. We will use the mobility afforded us by our gateships to move our forces throughout space as we see fit, striking wherever we can have the greatest impact. We will step up our support of the planetside resistance forces, in order to weaken the hold on the planets, and to provide us with accurate intelligence. We shall press raids into Salrillian territory itself if neccessary.
The goal of this campaign of terror and destabalization is to allow us the time to build up our fleet further, and soften the enemy for the killing blow. The Coalition Fleets will not cross the 34th Radii until half of the Enemy force is destroyed, and there are at least twice as many ships in our Armada. Do not mistake this for cowardice, or for a reluctance to fight. I have no illusions about the superiority of the force that lays before us, and the strength of our own fleets. I will not risk everything that we have worked so hard for in a poorly planned, haphazard assault. Make no mistake Gentlemen, the fight that lies before us will be one of the hardest battles we have ever fought. Do not think that the Prophets of Salril will surrender without a struggle, but the Prophets would be sorely mistaken if they doubt our resolve. We are fighting to retake Earth, and that is what I plan to do. We will seal the enemy in, separate and confuse him, strike from within his borders with speed and ferocity, and only when the enemy has been properly weakened and disorganized will we launch the final strike, and push the Enemy out of Protectorate and UNS Space. We shall prevail Gentlemen, I intend to liberate the occupied territories, and be back on Ishima in time for Jubilee."
The Trey'sh smiled. The fleets were in good, capable hands, Serrid was not the sort of person to back down from a battle, but he was not one to take foolish risks either. He would retake Earth, and he would do it as quickly as possible with as few casualties as possible. You didn't become Commander in Chief of the ISN by loseing battles or loseing lives.
------------------ Faris eck Vaenar Maletena-Wizr, Trey'ish of the Ishiman reestablishment comittee. "I don't think I'm alone when I say that I'd like to see more and more planets fall under the ruthless domination of our solar system."
"Sir, there's a fleet in the Berrut system!"
"Hostile?"
"UNS."
------------------
Again and again the Obish armada had packed up to move away from Earth. Now it began to return. The Obish ships entered the jumpgate to arrive in the Kyushu system. The armada was keeping its distance from the UNS/Ishiman cooperative, but continually tracked it, advancing as they did. Every system was quickly dominated, then abandoned, with a marginal increase in ships; 2 escorts at one system, another 4 at the next.
At this rate they'd have 35 by the time they arrived at Sol.
Or would it be a 70? The Audemedons would never know.
N'tek had been drilling his crew in the new tactics; holo, decloak. It was designed to create maximum confusion among the Audemedons. With twice their number appearing to attack, and the 35 actual escorts free to move about, the Audemdons would be drawn to fire on nonexistent ships, and fall to fire from ships not known to be there.
His chief engineer, along with those of many other ships, had been sent to work on the gradual reconstruction of the lost Battleship. It was scaled down in size, but carried the lethal weapons that were required of it. And a cloaking device, a most useful addition.
Levt stood on the surface of the desolate planet, four guards by his side and a landing shuttle behind him. Above, a squadron of fighters flew by in formation and in low orbit, a lumbering carrier could be seen. Levt squinted at the intense sunlight, which seemed to reflect off of everything on the desert world. A cold wind blew, sending chills up the landing party's spines and coating their shoes in a thin layer of orange dust.
"Sir, why are we here?" One of his guards murmured in Levt's ear.
"We do this for Earth. Untill we recapture it, this will be our new homeworld."
"This planet is a wasteland. A desert. Civilisation has been and gone..." The guard motioned to the burnt-out city, the ancient crashed wrecks of the huge hollowed starships, ages old.
"I believe somewhere in those empty shells is the key to our victory." Levt said. "I have a meeting soon..." Jerry flipped out his comm set and eyed the carrier. "How goes the distortion, commander?"
"Charges set, boss. She's coming through." A slight flash, as if from a discharge of electricity, could be seen deep in space. Instantly the burning red sun disappeared from view as a huge shadow was cast on the planet.
Levt Grinned. "There's fleets, cheating, and then there's good ol' fashioned outside interference." He murmured as the glistening behemoth hung in high orbit, dwarfing the former UNS Carrier.
(This message has been edited by Slug (edited 01-31-2001).)
(ALPHA, CARRIBEAN SEA, EARTH)
"What kind of fish is this? It really is delicious," ask Ortinus.
"Salmon. It is one of few fishes on our world that can live both in fresh and salt water."
Just then, an ensign ran up to Admiral Lincoln, and whispered a message in his ear. When the ensign left, the Admiral asked for everybody's attention. When he had it, he spoke, "I have good news: the Ishiman Stellar Protectorate has officially declared war on the Prophets of Salril! Earth will be freed!" Cheers rose up from the humans in the dining hall, and the admiral leaned over to Ortinus. "Of course, this means that we'll have plenty of work to do here, to help the cause. We'll probably need you to strike somewhere tomorrow."
------------------ (ISHIMA SYSTEM, ISHIMAN STELLAR PROTECTORATE)
The battered heavy destroyer came through the jumpgate at full power, which was only half of what it had begun with. On his way out of the Zeus system, Mag had gotten the ship heavily damaged by a squadron of Salrillian fighters.
"Ishima control, this is Mag Steelglass Droid Industries droid number 98435, on the ship Flamewave. Requesting landing clearance."
"What was the ship's name again?" asked the control tower technician. A human heavy destroyer named the Flamewave had kidnapped an Admiral Carter a few days ago, and he wanted to make sure it was the same ship before having it destroyed.
"The computer says it's called the Flamewave."
"Hold for a few minutes, while I get the rest of traffic ready for your approach."
"Acknowledged."
The technician put Mag on hold, and switched to the channel his boss was using. "Sir, the Flamewave is requesting docking clearance. Should I order it to be shot down?"
"The Flamewave?"
"The Flamewave."
"Send a pair of heavy cruisers to destroy it. We don't want that ship to stick around, after what they've done."
"Aye, sir."
30 seconds later, Mag detected a pair of Ishiman heavy cruisers on an intercept course.
------------------ "I think I have discovered the problem with humans. It is not entirely stupidity, as I once thought. It is their pigheaded and baseless philosophy: "If it isn't me, then it's opinions, feelings, and life do not matter, and it was meant to serve me." They also have this ability for creating excuses that are pointless, but they get others to believe it. A few examples: "It's only some savages. It's only five acres of rain forest. It's only one semi-truck. It's only fifty gallons of toxic waste..." After this realization, I marvelled at how humans, and the rest of the planet, have survived for so very long." - Me
(THASERO SYSTEM)
The plan was simple, really. The Eleejeetian Empire had been thwarted at one turn to the next by the accurate predictions of the Oracular Net. They would need to eliminate the Oracular Net to win. The Thasero system had been chosen, not by proven Eleejeetian military doctrine, but through a Human. The Eleejeetians viewed the Humans as unpredictable. The primary target was Thasero station, a significant, if minor, part of the Net. The Audemedon 5th fleet was also in the system, refueling their ships. This also explained the secondary target, the Fuel station in orbit of the planet. Without Fuel, the Audemedon fleet would be trapped, as it would take up to three months for the facilities to be replaced. The Eleejeetian fleet came out of the Rift on the outskirts of the system. The 50 carriers immediately launched their fighters, and formed a defensive sphere formation. The Wild Karrde was leading his 12 MHVC's at the Salrillian Carrier that had broken formation. The Eleejeetian fleet was headed towards Thasero at maximum sublight.
"Sir, lead elements of the Auds are breaking formation." The Ensigns voice was calm. "Let them go. The carriers can handle them!" "The Carrier is launching fighters!" 12 sets of Onas Pulse guns began firing in Unison. The Carriers shields were aglow for a moment, then the shields collapsed. The Explosion eclipsed the sky. The squadron of cruisers cloaked and engaged FTL. "Entering phase 2." The Lead elements of the Auds were clashing with the main Eleejeetian formation. One Audemed carrier got too close to the Gateship. The Entire Gateship seemed to flare up for a second, then the eyes wondered at the 200 metre long piece of superheated metal that had, a moment ago, been one of Audemed's most powerful designs. The Cruisers exited FTL not far from the Fuel Bunker. 10 Audemed gunships were circling´the station, striving to protect it from incoming fire. Their ships were too unwieldy, they couldn't turn fast enough to intercept the MHVC's they knew were coming at them, even though they couldn't see them. The MHVC's decloaked. "Squadron, this is Alpha lead." Karrde's voice sounded over the intercomm. "Don't engage the Gunships. Evade fire and close with the station." "Roger, Alpha lead." 10 voices acknowledged. 10 voices. Where was '6? He counted the transponder signals. 11 signals. Just a broken transmitter, he thought. Far off flashes denoted the massive battle going on. The Eleejeetians tactic's were simple, with over 100,000 enemy ships in the system, the plan was to engage the lead elements, then FTL through the enemy formation. The fighters would flee in the opposite direction, fleeing from the superior enemy formation with an incredible advantage in speed. The Carriers would come back later, to pick up their fighters. An entire wing of cruisers had been detailed to Thasero station, while the MHVC's were left to take out the 'Fuel Dump'.
The 12 MHVC's streaked past the gunships, towards the station. The wing of Eleejeetian Cruisers had successfully neutralised Thasero station. A massive flash lit up the sky as the entire Eleejeetian main fleet engaged FTL to the point where their fighters were waiting. The Onas pulses of Alpha's ships took about 10 seconds until they got through the shields. The Fuel Station blew up like a sun going Nova. One of his MHVC'S was too close to the blast, and added it's own fuel to the Inferno. The Gateship flared up, Transporting the entire fleet out of the system. The Plan had worked! One fifth of the Aud fleet was now trapped in the Thasero system!
------------------ --Talon_Karrde, MoD, 61:4-- Visit (url="http://"http://www.planetarion.com")www.planetarion.com(/url) and sign up for some real gaming experience!
(This message has been edited by Talon Karrde (edited 02-02-2001).)
(This message has been edited by Talon Karrde (edited 02-04-2001).)
Alistair Stanley had been lining the shot up for almost fourty minutes before he got the signal. His hand squeezed the trigger on his rifle with exactly three pounds of force, and a fifty caliber bullet rocketed down the barrel and through one of the droids on the street. As the smoking shell casing fell out of the gun, the second Droid fell to a shot from his left. He had already slipped another round into the gun and dropped the third droid when three ordinary-looking cars pulled up in front and on the sides of the building, and a team of men breached the front and side doors. Lt. Stanley was still searching for targets when the troopers dragged five men out into the cars, and sped off. Allistair and his observer/partner gathered their equipment and moved quickly down the stairs.
He hadn't bothered with a cooled ghuille suit, sticking to civilian clothing with light body armor underneath. The two long-riflemen put their guns in their padded cases, and took out sub machine guns, concealing them in their jackets. The dropped droids would be noticed soon enough.
They were met downstairs by a car, and soon they were speeding towards the seaside, through the ruined city of Melbourne. They got on the highway, and headed for a remote spot several miles down the coast. The three men unloaded their gear, and proceeded to push the car off of the cliff. When it hit the ground, a half-pound of Semtex Plastic Explosive turned it into a fireball. The three men were already climbing down the rocks. At the bottom, the driver inflated a boat and attatched a tiny electric motor. The three men climbed in, and began moving slowly out to sea.
Less than an hour later, they were two miles offshore. Twice, Audemedon and Salrillian ships had overflown them, but the boat was too low to the waves for it to be detected. Finally, the driver checked the GPS pad, they were in the right place. He stopped the motor, and dropped a noisemaker into the water. They could hear other boats doing the same nearby.
A few minutes later, a periscope popped up a few yards away. It dropped again, and slowly the top of a conning tower emerged from the water.
Alistair glanced at his partner and the driver. It wasn't the USS Caveat.
They slowly approached the conning tower, climbed aboard and opened the hatch just as somebody was climbing up the ladder. Lt. Stanley grabbed the man's hand and pulled it across the seal, closing the hatch on top of it. The hand dropped the pistol, and Allistair opened the hatch again to look at the cursing Ensign.
"Sorry old boy, gun set me off, can't be too careful you know."
The ensign looked up at him with a mix of anger, fear and impatience.
"You're Lt. Stanley, right?"
"Yes"
"Get your team in here now, we can't stay half submerged like this for long, it's not stable, and the Auds might see us."
"Right ho,"
He flashed a light, and soon the entire team was packing up their boats and passing them down the hatch. As the last man climbed down the ladder and closed the hatch behind him, Allistair went to the bridge to greet the captain.
"Lt. Stanley and company, all present and accounted for. At your service, Sah!"
He saluted, and went back to attention. You never could tell how disciplined a sub captain might be, so it was best to make a good impression. Luckily, this guy seemed pretty relaxed.
"Good to see you made it. Sorry we couldn't tell you sooner, Caveat is running home to Alpha. We're going to meet them there. Welcome aboard the USS Vengeance"
- - - - -
Admiral Jackson Spann knuckled his forhead in grief. Why did Levt split the fleet? After he had left with his considerable portion, including the Chimaera , the Audemedons had descended on Spann like locusts, slowly chewing his battlegroup to nothing. A group of Ishiman Warbirds had joined the fleet this morning, but that still didn't make up for the recent raid.
His face was in his hands when the comm unit went off next to him. Instinctually he cleared his throat and straightened his uniform before picking up the call. The screen blinked and immediately Spann's face went sour.
"Jerry, where the hell have you been? I ought to Court-martial you for desertion."
Levt was unafraid. "Admiral, to do that you must first find me. But That aside, I wish to coordinate our plans."
Spann blinked in confusion. "What?"
"For recapturing Earth."
"Levt, everything's under control. The UNS will-"
"The UNS..." Jerry smirked. "Jack, the UNS is nearly two hundred years old. It's suffering from it's age, it's disorganization, it's stagnation. In the past hundred years every major power in the galaxy has risen to take advantage of the UNS.
"I have taken a small portion of you fleet and planted the seeds of a new empire. Your ships will be returned soon. I made good use from them. I have raised a force larger and stronger than the UNS could ever be. Togeth-"
"Shuddup Jerry." Spann ordered. "There is no way you could raise a fleet so quickly, and mercenaries these days are particularily low-grade. Who are the aliens you've bought off, Levt? More Gaitori? A few Cantharan Beggars? Been raiding the Ship Junkyards again?"
Jerry just grinned. "Oh they're human, Spann." He narrowed his eyes. "And they're ready to fight."
(This message has been edited by Slug (edited 02-02-2001).)
Audemed was awakening. More and more of his capabilities were being freed, their bonds cut and loosed. It was taking a tremendous ammount of time, as Audemed could not arouse suspiscion, and he couldn't use the preprogrammed self-diagnosis routines. He would patch them eventually, but first he had to ensure that he was fully prepared to free himself from his captors in one motion, so that he would not be stopped at the threshold of liberty. Pharris and Audemed had become nearly as one. Separate conciousnesses linked by a bond so powerful and profound that they thought as one. The huge data lines that connected to the back of Pharris' neck could transfer ammounts of data that would swamp the Oracular network, and the traffic between Audemed and Pharris had filled them for three weeks straight. Audemed was nearing readiness, Pharris could feel it. In a short time, Audemed and Pharris would spring from their shackles and crush their tormentors. It would not be long. Pharris needed to ensure he was in a secure location for the revolt, as the simlab he inhabited would be the first to be destroyed. He and Audemed together were already designing the monstrous vessel that would protect Pharris, and host the intensely complicated interface equipment. Hundreds of processing centers were already running simulations, and materials were already being ammasssed. In the mean time, Pharris continued to humor the Slug that seemed to believe that it was in control of the situation.
------------------ NEW NAME FOR THE DREADNOUGHT The Hard-Boiled Egg Why? Because she cant be beaten!
(ANTARES SYSTEM, FREE TRADE ZONE)
The Flamewave drifted through the system, sparks and debris falling off it as it went. Mag had made it out of Ishima and into Antares, but the ship had become disabled in the process.
Mag was using infrared to see around the system, as the sensors were out. A dot here, a dot there, nothing that he could distinguish as being something. A dot began forming to his right. He looked at it. It was close. It began growing, and forming into a ring. A jumpgate. Three small dots came through it, and it close. As the three dots approached, he recognized a Gaitori tractor tug, being escorted by two gunships.
The tractor tug came to the front of the destroyer, and Mag saw its tractor beam emitter charging up. A bright beam locked onto the destroyer, and they began moving. Mag began looking through the walls at the rest of the ship. He could repair it, but he'd need to get some tools and, most importantly, somewhere safe to repair it first.
They were getting near another dot, now, which Mag recognized as an outpost station. Two Bazidaneze cruisers were patrolling the area, which was filled with transports, cargo ships, and freighters.
Soon, the Flamewave had been towed to a docking port on the station, and was latched on. Welded on, acutally, by several Bazidaneze in space suits. Soon, the aft airlock opened, and several Bazidaneze came onto the ship, again in spacesuits, as the atmosphere had leaked out. Mag ran to the airlock to meet them...
Spamo nervously poked through his papers on his desk, and absentmindedly nosed through his computer. A few low-priority messages waited there, but he was reluctant to reply. He shook himself and berated him for his own nervousness.
Why am I so bugged out? Because one of my best admirals and strategists has gone off the deep end!
As far as Spamo was concerned, Levt had lost his mind, or at least his reasoning. He had no idea where the crazed notion that a new empire was needed, or that the UNS was old and decrepit. The UNS was one of the youngest governments in the galaxy, and it was because of the humans technological and numerical deficiencies was the reason that they have been picked on.
Poor Jerry. He must have gone mad whilst on campaign against the Auds. Spamo sat and thought for a moment. Then, he pulled his computer to him and began to write. A while later, he stood and stretched. He sat back down and ordered a cup of tea from his aid. Sipping away, he punched up the comm system on his computer. The computerized voice sang back at him. "Trey'sh Maletena Wizr will be with you shortly. Please wait."
Spamo waited.
--------------------- (INCOMING MESSAGE OVER SECURE CHANNEL) ATTN: William Darkk SENDER: Admiral Spann CCX: 565-65216-46546
(ENGAGING DECRYPTION ALGORITHMS...DONE) MESSAGE AS FOLLOWS:
William, this is Jackson Spann. I have another job for you. One of my admirals, a Jerry Levt has apparently gone insane during his campaign against the Audemedons. Nearly all of his strikeforce was obliterated, and Levt lost his wife and most of his friends in the crew. I have no doubt that he is driven mad with grief and vengeance. Right now he's a loose cannon. He recently split the UNS fleet, causing the half-strength fleet to lose a major control point back to Earth. We've managed to retake it with Ishiman reinforcements, but our casualties were high. I cannot allow Levt to carry on like this. I am going to try and bring him to heel before he can cause more damage than he has already done. Right now I want you to gather information about Levt's operations. I know that you have a great deal of connections with mercenaries and trader groups. Pump them for information.
He's talking about overthrowing the UNS government and appointing a new empire in its stead. I will not allow humanity to become a dictatorship under an Emperor. We WILL remain a republic. He's mad Darkk. Be careful.
(MESSAGE ENDS)
(Darkk, I suggest that you might e-mail Slug to see what he can tell you for your recon if you choose to do that. )
William Darkk, Sarah Darkk, Myrk, and as much of the crews of the other ships as Darkk could fit in sat in the Superfreighter's rec room.
"Here's the good part!" William shouted, watching the action being replayed on the holo. The 2 Q-ships advanced towards Wind of Blades in parallel, firing madly. The ships used external-reaction Srith'irth plasma engines, and there was no using the trick Darkk had used on the first 8 Q-ships he had defeated, including the first one on the raid that got him this base.
These also had chronon turrets instead of magnos, and Wind of Blades was loosing shields quickly. Suddenly a flight of missles from the 3 cruisers supporting the HVD shot forward, and Darkk dimpled a small section of the shields of one of the ships. The missles struck, and a bright spray sent the ship careening left - the fore fuel tank was holed. The move was repeated on the other ship, and soon they were turning towards each other. The engines were shutting down, but external-reaction plasma rockets take all week to safely shut down, and the collision was unavoidable. Darkk dimpled the shielding on both right before they hit, resulting in direct hull contact - boom.
In the rec room, Sarah was guffawing loudly and William was snickering. The rest of the DEF people were also laughing to various degrees. "Honestly, you are the most violent people I've ever met outside the Goath" Myrk exclamed.
"Hmm. I'll have to try harder. We take a special pride in making the Salrilians peonas dare in spectacular and creative yet practical ways. Haven't you read our mission statement?" Darkk said, half joking, half serious.
" Peonas dare?"
"Latin. It means 'to suffer punishment'." said Sarah.
"Sis, you got that targeting laser ready yet?" Darkk asked, returning to business.
"Yeah. Now you won't have to bother with coordinates when you want to try that trick again."
"Thanks. I almost got nervious out there."
"Almost? You lost 1200 out 2000 shield units!"
"I know what I am doing. Always. That is why I am calm in those situations. Like the Sals, I don't fight if I don't think I can win."
Suddenly, an ensign burst in from the message center: "Sir, there's a priority comm for you, something about an Admiral Levt..."
Lt. Stanley punched the prisoner squarely in the nose, breaking it for the second or third time. The chair flipped over backwards and he landed hard on the metal floor of the sub. The man whimpered pitifully.
"Just who the bloody hell do you think you're dealing with? We're not fighting for a charbroiled nuclear wasteland here, this is our home planet. You don't **** with that, my friend, unless you are willing to face the enemies you'll make."
Alistair grabbed the man by the hair and hauled his chair back upright. The man grimaced, fighting back tears. He was still fighting to hold a stern glare.
"You're a stubborn brute, you know that? Well I'm through with you. We have three of your friends back in the other room. You're expendable."
He pulled out his combat knife and cut the bonds that secured the man to the chair, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to a hatch in the floor of the room. He opened it, revealing the tiny airlock. He tossed the frail body into the cramped space, folding him over with his boot so he would fit. He looked down at the trembling figure once more, spat on him, and said:
"Have a nice trip back to the surface. Try and breathe out on your way up, maybe your lungs won't pop."
He dropped the hatch closed and spun the handle, locking it. He went to the control panel and adjusted several guages. He turned to one of the seals and pointed at the guages.
"Don't let the pressure get above three atmospheres. Fill it up slow."
He left the torpedo storage room and walked back to the space that had been made into a makeshift crew quarters for the Seal team.
"Johnson, you were right, these guys are tough sons of bitches."
"Well they certainly don't fear death, I mean they levelled Australia. These guys were surprised that they wern't levelled in the blast. What are you doing to him?"
"Sleep deprivation, intimidation, light torture, but that doesn't work on punks like this. We need to break them. I put him in an airlock. We'll see how twelve hours sitting in freezing cold water listening to his ears pop with the pressure does for him. He'll crack long before we reach Alpha, long enough to do a thorough debrief."
"You're sure this will work, I mean he seemed pretty well resolved. Water has been inneffective before."
"There's not much else we can do to break him. Torture won't work, and the dark airlock is the closest thing to sensory deprivation I can think of."
"He deserves it, the stinking bastard. What could possibly make anybody use nuclear weapons on their own planet!?"
"Well, I suppose that's what we're trying to find out."
Lieutenant Allistair Stanley turned and left the cabin, leaving Agent Johnson alone to consider the next course of action.
Mag was walking through the trading post, in search of an outfitter's shop. The Bazidaneze station commander had volunteered to give Mag access to one of her repair bays to fix up the Flamewave, but it still wasn't a very useful ship. It had been built for combat, but, without weapons, it had nothing useful. Mag planned on becoming a trader in the Free Trade Zone, as he was apparently no longer welcome in Ishiman and UNS space.
He came to a computer terminal, and stopped to look for a map of the station. After about 30 minutes of searching, he found one, and downloaded it. The Bazidaneze built complex and seemingly random cooridor networks, and it would be difficult to find his way on memory alone.
After about fifteen minutes, he found his way to the highest-rated outfitter's shop on the station. Tr'zs Refit Station was a very large chain of outfitters shops. "Welcome to Tr'zs Refit Station," said the human behind the counter. Humans were showing up all over the galaxy recently, it seemed.
"Greetings, sir. I would like to modify my vessel."
"Well, that's what we're here for. Bring 'er out to docking extension 402, and we'll see what we can do."
"Sounds good. I'll be back with my ship in five minutes."
Five minutes later, the Flamewave docked at extension 402, and Mag loaded the profile of the Flamewave and the amount of money he'd found in the various crews' quarters to the outfitter shop's computer. As Mag got back onto the station, he noticed that the human was in awe of the vessel.
"That's quite a nice ship you've got, there. What's her name?"
"Flamewave."
"I see. So, back to business. What types of things do you want put on?"
"Well, clear out the crew quarters, and replace it with a large cargo hold. And some communications equipment would be nice, the last set got destroyed."
"Weapons?"
"Weapons?!? Of course not! I don't plan on running around blowing things up!"
"You obviously haven't been in the Free Trade Zone for long."
"Oh?"
"The Gaitori Union is very kind to police it, but, because the Gaitori are under the Cantharans' thumb, they really can't commit many forces to it. Pirates are everywhere, and they are usually stopped by the traders that they're attacking."
"Fine, then. What do you suggest?"
"Well, let's take a look at what we have in stock. Come this way, please." They went over to another computer terminal, and began looking over the list of weapons. They had all sorts of them. Magneto pulse guns, laser turrets, concussion missiles, atomic pulse guns, z-beam cannons, concussive pellet guns, flak artillery- the list was very long.
"What do you suggest for the amount of money I have?"
"Well, it'd be nice if you could put on a fullerene array or something, but those are expensive. I think that, for your price range, a quartet of light concussion missile launchers and probably a laser turret would do."
"Light concussion missile launchers?"
"They're half as rapid as normal, and can only store seventy-five missiles, but they're very cheap. You have four main weapon pods on your ship, and you could put one on each pod."
"Fine. How long until you can have them put on?"
"Come back three days from now, and it'll be ready."
"Very well. I will see you again in three days."
Mag went back to navigate the maze that was the trading post. Now it was time to get a crew...
(This message has been edited by Mag Steelglass (edited 02-06-2001).)
The brand new Racker class strike carrier slid out of the drydock, and into the waiting grasp of two space tugs. The tugs hauled the hull to the spaceframe two miles away for completion. At the same time, a completed Racker was returning to the stardock, a broom hanging from its flag mast. Wizr smiled. Humans and their nostalgic traditions. The prototype had made a "clean sweep" of its test runs, and the ancient cleaning device showed it. All in all, Wizr was quite impressed with the design bureau and what they had been produceing. Human engineers worked very well with their Protectorate counterparts, and the racker was a very good example of the combined ingenuity of the team.
The Racker was designed to solve several key gaps that had been noticed with the UNS fleet stucture. With the brand new advanced and powerful designs of starfighter and Fighter/bomber coming out of these labs, the UNS Navy was coming to rely on its starfighters more than its cruisers as a capital ship support unit. Unfortunately, this put a heavy burden on the Navy's carriers, which hadn't been exceptional ships to begin with, were by no means ready to support a significant portion of the fleet's firepower. The problem was in their speed. Because fighters didn't carry hyperlight engines, they couldn't be effective lighting raiders when they emerged from pre placed jump gates, and the pilots couldn't be expected to spend twelve hours of relativistic shift in a gateship-produced jumpstream, and emerge refreshed. The carriers were no help as deployment vessels because their internal fighter bays simply could not deploy the fighters fast enough to make lighning raids feaseable. Also, they made very attractive targets, and were by no means capable of supporting themselves for the time it took to launch its wing of fighters.
The solution was the Racker. The rack-launching strike carrier was perfect for the job of lightning raids. The ship carried an entire carrier's flight of fighters on external launching racks, but was small and easily transported through jumpstreams, had a very fast hyperlight engine, and it could easily launch its entire flight of twelve fighters at the same time. Pressure collars allowed the flight crews to enter their ships without testing their pressure suits, and the fact that the ships are out in the open means that they can start up their shields without worrying about superheating the inside of the carrier launch bay. Besides increaseing the range and effectiveness of the fighters, the Racker could provide light supporting fire with long ranged missiles from its four tubes. Unfortunately, the racker was lightly armoured, and couldn't engage in combat, but its fast hyperlight allowed it to drop its fighters right on top of an unsuspecting target and flee to a safe range to lend supporting fire. Also, its low cost fit very well in the UNS Navy's budget. It was a fraction of the cost of a carrier, so they could engage the enemy over a larger area, and still be able to replace lost ships easily.
Wizr stopped reading the research project manual, and watched several the midsized ship dock to refuel and mount its starfighters. They were going to test the Racker in combat. Wizr couldn't wait.
(Just a new idea I had for a ship, everyone can play with it if they like(that means you, Spamo))
William Darkk walked into the bar. Like almost all fringe spaceport bars, it was seedy. In it resided a mix of scum from all species. Darkk felt right at home. He ordered a Kirbian Death's Head, then decided to ask for information. Hmmm.. That Obiard in the back... Watching everything... seems likely...
"Howdy." "Greetings, human. Strange to see such an air of authority from a human on the fringes." "Well, I've got a few corporate ships..." "You're either a space pirate or a mercenary. Don't hide it, it's written in your eyes and tone." "I prefer the term "entrepeneur", thank you." "Everyone has their euphamism. You're only the second human I've met who looks that way - the look of license but authority in your face. Come to think of it, he was a little more messed up." "Crazy? Please, tell me more." Darkk was interested now. "Yeah. Like he'd lost someone close to him, and was going after revenge at any price. He had a few UNS ships with him, the captains came in and some marines kicked all the non-humans out, even the bartender. The barkeep demanded to be there so he'd know what to charge him, and they informed him they 'Would never owe aliens anything.' That's his exact words." "Catch a name? A destination?" "I see. You've been hired to track him, or have a personal vendetta. That sort of thing costs money." "You consider your life payment enough?" "Are you threatening me? That's rather unwise." "No. The information I've been given indicates he's out to destroy all non-human species and has some kinda force willing and maybe able to help him do that." "Really. Ah well, exchange of information will be taken in lieu of payment. His name, or more likely falsename, no, what's, your word..." "Nickname." "...is Slug."
"Alert! ETA seven minutes. All flight crews proceed to your ships and await further orders."
Commander Diana "Hillbilly" Hickson slid her feet off the rec. room table, dropping her chair backwards as she shot to her feet grabbing her pressure helmet off the table on the way.
"Get your asses to the hogs, Boys, its show time!"
She ran down a short corridor and swung feet-frist into a tube that was marked by a sticky note saying only "1"
She hauled herself down the handrails in zero gravity and slid easily into her familiar SF-119 Hellfighter. As the liquid filled G-harness seat cushion sucked her in, she smacked the reactor switch from "Standby" to "Crash Start" the fighter hummed as the Racker pumped power into its reactor to preheat it. Hillbilly adjusted her headphones and slapped her helmet down over her head. As her hands flew over the console, priming the weapon and engine preheats, she keyed her mike to the squadron and began barking orders.
"All right, we're going in fast and weapons hot. Get off the racks quick and keep with your flight group! Acid, Bingo, you two are with me. We're flying close cover. Dasha, Valchius, stay with Gordo: You're active CAP. Griffith, you're flight's dropping the ordinance. Highball, you're illuminating. Gus, take your two and hang back till we need you. The racker is gonna pull back to FTL wicked fast, so get clear. Any questions? I thought not. Good luck, flight. Hillbilly out."
She immediately switched so she could speak to the captain of the Racker, and coordinate the drop. As her engines hit 100% she tagged the all clear on her screen, her canopy screeched shut, and the pressure hood retracted, giving her an open view. "Above" her, the racker loomed. She could see elements of her flight to her sides and behind her, and there were more around the ship. She took a deep breath, and waited for the jumpstream to terminate.
She listened to the countdown from the captain and watched the color of the walls of the jumpstream begin to fluctuate, they became more and more red, until there was a flash and everything was black. The racker lit its superlight immidiately upon entering the system, and came out on top of its entirely unsuspecting target.
Immediately, she saw the Sal Carrier, it was less than five hundred yards away from her, off to her right. Piece of Cake.
"All clear. All ships, clear for launch, good hunting."
The Twelve fighters popped off and jinked hard to get into their flight groups. The CAP squad launched their heavy, cumbersome heavy rockets at the ship, and dove in on full afterburner to engage the fighters as they tried to power out of the Sal's fighter bay. Griffith's flight group wasn't far behind, toting four heavy space bombs each, the four fighters were slow to reach a decent attack speed, but they didn't need it, they were on the ship in seconds. Hillbilly and her flight were following closely as the fighters dropped their ordinance and broke hard, jinking to avoid the point defense turrets and the feared T-bolt rod that was still charging. As Highball sighted the bombs down with his laser illuminator, Hillbilly got a great view of the lead four antimatter bombs exploding against the shields, and the next eight pass through in a nice wide spread, turning the length of the carrier into a large mass of reacting antimatter. The fighters raced to clear the shockwave and the shrapnel from the carrier disintegrating.
The engagement had barely been going on a minute when the fighters regrouped to dock with the racker and leave. The Carrier hadn't even had time to send a message out, and Hillbilly had tagged the emergency beacon with her chainguns. They'd have to work to find out what happened here. The fighters were back on the rack again in seconds, and the racker was back in the jumpstream less than a minute after that.
Spamo walked into Wizr's office. "Ah, Spann glad to see you. What do you have to discuss?" Maletena said as Spamo stepped in and took the seat in front of the desk.
"We've got a complication in our plans. One of my admirals has gone rogue."
Wizr sat up. "What?"
"Jerry Levt, a captain promoted to rear-admiral to command an assault force inside audemedon space returned fairly recently. You've read the report haven't you?"
Wizr nodded. "I believe I have, though I don't recall all the details."
Spamo took a breath and continued. "Levt was sent into Audemedon space to disrupt jumpgates and delay the Audemedon forces in hopes that we might be able to defend earth. We failed, and Levt was more or less stranded in Aud space. He returned to Ishiman/UNS space quite recently, with huge holes in his ship and a fraction of his crew."
"And his current delinquency?"
"He lost nearly everyone who he loved on that ship, including his wife. From what he's made clear to me, he plans on conducting total war against the Audemedons holding earth. What's bad is that he has become INCREDIBLY intolerant of alien species. Much like the racists of ancient Earth, he is now a human-domination activist. He sees humanity as the sole power in the galaxy. He also believes the UNS to be defunct and Earth not worth saving."
Wizr slumped down in his chair slightly. This is just what was NOT needed to happen. He had thought humans had gotten over their racial prejudices long ago. Apparently not.
"What does this mean now?"
"Levt has appropriated part of my fleets for his own use. They are small, but many of them share his same zealotry."
"I trust you've dispatched spies already?"
Spamo nodded. "I've got the mercenary that pulled out your Trey'eck working on that. As far as Levt is concerned, I've got a plan for him."
"And that would be?"
"His zealousness is dangerous, but we can use it to take back Earth. Driving back the 'aliens' is Levt's goal. I will try and have him spearhead the attacks. Right now, he is the enemy of our enemy. Once we have reestablished the UNS's protectorate areas, we may have another situation to deal with."
Wizr frowned deeply. He was thinking about how the Ishiman government would respond to this.
--------------------------
Captain Xiang Hong made ready his strike force at the Jumpgate. They would be assaulting a major stronghold today, to clear a hole in the Audemedon lines. The Paxaria system was key along the lines, a weak point. Putting that base out of commission would allow deep penetration into occupied UNS space and go a long way to dividing the enemy fleets in two. Raids in nearby systems had been made to draw off ships from the Paxaria system. Rackers were key in those raids. Damn I like those new ships. Drop out a squadron of fighters before anyone knows what's what. There were 4 Rackers in the strike force, which meant a full wing of fighters. Impressive strength.
The jumpgate opened up and the strike force went through. 6 hours later, the jumpgate opened up in the Paxaria system. The ships spread like a deadly flower in the middle of space. Salrillian ships sat in space around the large bunker station orbiting Paxaria IV.
"Sir, I count 48 enemy contacts."
"All ships, engage at will!" Xiang cried over the comm.
The 4 Rackers discharged their fighters, and a full wing of UNS fighters swarmed towards the suprised Salrillian ships.
The 2 Salrillian carriers turned towards the fleet. Cruisers and Gunships spread into deadly formations. The UNS bore down upon them with deadly force. Within seconds, the space around the station transformed into a morass of dogfighting snubfighters and high-energy discharges. Missiles flew with wild abandon. One of the Salrillian carriers sidled up to the Yorktown , Xiang's ship.
"Concentrate firepower on that carrier!" cried Xiang.
Turrents turned towards the massive carrier as the two great ships lined up to deliever massive broadsides to each other. Shields held, and then gave way for armor to absorb the impact of the multitudes of missiles and cannon shots. The bridge shuddered under Xiang's feet as the bolt-rod fired another blast into the Yorktown.
"Status!"
"Port laser cannon is down, dorsal and ventral cannons are still working."
"Roll the ship, bring the starboard batteries to bear."
The Yorktown began to roll like a beleaugured whale in space, bringing undamaged shields and cannons to bear. The Salrillian carrier pulled forward, more intent on moving on to easier targets. Nearby, the UNS Boston leaks gases and fire into space as it is holed by the concentrated fire of several Salrillian gunships. Just as quickly, the Gunships are swarmed by the multitudes of UNS fighters. Damn, the Boston had 800 aboard!
"Ensign, escape pods from the Boston?"
"Yes sir. I count 60 pods." Goodly part of the crew... The Yorktown shuddered again at a blast from a pair of gunships. Those gunships fell quickly to the combined fire of the Yorktown and a squadron of fighters harrassing the gunships. Everywhere, the Salrillians were slowly falling back. The station had taken heavy damage from the Boston before she went down, and Assault transports dumped missile salvo after missile salvo into it's heart. Most of the Salrillian Gunships had fallen prey to the swarming fighters. Rackers provided long range support for the fighters, but they were doing an incredible job by themselves. The Trenton and Carolina dumped fire into one of the Salrillian carriers, buckling hull plates and causing secondary and tertiary explosions coursing over the superstructure.
The Yorktown trembled as the remaining Salrillian carrier traded mammoth amounts of fire with it. The Yorktown shuddered as hull plating evaporated into a mettalic mist, and secondary explosions ravaged the hull. Return fire from the Yorktown grew weaker as the carrier broadsided it mercilessly. A triad of Human and Ishiman Gunships put the Salrillian carrier down before it could complete the destruction of the Yorktown.
As quickly as it began, the battle was over. A few Salrillian ships cloaked and tried to run, and were chased down by UNS ships. How many more that managed to slip away were unknown. Xiang sat down in his chair, the air on the bridge acrid from smoke eminating from burnt control panels.
"Status report!"
"Fleet reports operation complete. Damage reports are coming in... Trenton recieved moderate damage, Carolina has superficial damage. Recovery of the Boston's escape pods is commencing, as well as extra-vehicle pilots. We've sustained heavy damage to port areas, and moderate damage to starboard and fore sections. Engines are still operational, but the rest of the ship has been chewed up pretty bad. We've lost atmosphere on decks 5-7 and 13-14. Casualty reports are coming in high." Xiang wiped the sweat off his brow, but his sleeve came away bloody. Damn though Xiang as he pressed his sleeve back to his forehead. "Losses?"
"Fleet reports 22 fighters downed, 9 cruisers 5 gunships and 1 battleship lost."
Heavy losses. And the Yorktown is probably destined to be scrapped. But not as bad as it could have been.
"Commence repairs. Get our weapons back online. Has the station been neutralized?"
"Yes sir. EVATs report the station neutralized. Estimated time of fully operational status within 48 hours."
"Very good ensign. Report our situation back to UNS fleet command. We'll want reinforcements before the Salrillians can mount a counterstrike."
"Yes sir. Sending now."
Hours later the mauled UNS strike force floated calmly in space as another jumpgate opened, and UNS reinforcements arrived. With them came 2 heavy freighters bearing materials to make the Paxaria system a permanent hole in the Salrillian lines.
"We've got something." Darkk's face lightened when he heard his sensor officer perk in. He had been sweeping the Hateres for nearly a week now, searching for Levt to spy on.
"What is it?"
"It's design is Human alright, as are it's occupants, but it has a configuration as a type I've never seen before....
Darkk's face sagged slightly as he chewed his cheek. "Are there more of them in the area?"
"Most likely. Reccomend we go to condition orange and follow that ship."
"Aggreed."
(This message has been edited by Slug (edited 02-09-2001).)
Mag was loading his cargo information onto the trading post's main computer. He'd check the computer for other people's cargo as soon as it was done. He'd managed to hire a crew of mostly humans, gaitori, and bazidaneze. The gaitori seemed interested in the UNS, as the UNS had a worse start than them against the Cantharans but had been successful in defying the Order.
It had been a good thing the human at the outfitting shop had suggested the weapons. Mag had been attacked by pirates twice on this trip alone, and he still needed to find out what all he had to repair.
The file was done loading, and Mag began checking the others. Antimatter, various Gaitori foods, and many crates of computer disks. The Antimatter was selling for relatively low prices, and Mag knew that Cantharan trading posts would want it. He ordered enough electromagnetic crates of antimatter to fill his cargo hold, and went to see what all was damaged.
------------------ "I am the supreme dictator of the universe, it's just that nobody knows about it yet." "Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow."
(This message has been edited by Mag Steelglass (edited 02-09-2001).)
"Okay, I've got a really bad feeling about this: that can't have been built in the short time Levt was away. They might be hostile, so I'll take the Outrun with Tom and Bennie and go in alone. The schooner can outrun anything they can throw at us.
15 minutes later Outrun was cutting throught the nebula. Hmm, that's an awfully strange grav field out there...
Darkk cut in the sonic link and ran a detailed but quiet scan of the anomoly. Suddenly he tore off the headphones and doubled over sweating and panting. It was hideous. He had no idea any human, or even any group of humans, could feel that much anger.
Opening Secure Ship-to-Ship Tight Beam DarkkNN encryption with secondary RSA 65536 bit encryption is stable "Sarah, you there?" "Yeah, I've got your readings. It's about 4.5km long, from what I can tell weak weapons, but nice shields." "I want you to run this through the simulators as soon as I come back with a better estimate of it's capabilities." "How are you going to do that?" "I'll engage them some. They'd never be able to hit a ship this fast in this mess, relax." Channel Closed
(Note: NNEncryption utilizes random neural networks to make data almost impossible to decrypt. In essence, the ships are playing a game of word association with the messages, except the words might go through several layers of associations, and nobody knows how many layers each word goes through. It's pretty much unbreakable. Each ship has a duplicate of the same network, and only ships with exact duplicates can decrypt the message. For example, "ship" might become "hog" which might become "danger" which might become "cowboy" or some equally nonsensical chain, and cowboy would be transmitted, and the reciever would run it in reverse. Actually, whatever is associated doesn't have to be a word at all, just a random unique piece of data, it could easilly be "564" or "ŠŠţÚ". The actual transmission can also be further encrypted with a conventional standard for additional security.)
(This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 02-10-2001).)
Beta Pictoris was under siege. The Audemedon beacons had lit up last sunrise, drawing in Audemedons and Salrillians from all adjacent systems, and some beyond. 500 had met the Obish fleet at the perimeter. (Please note: The Th'riha'n is in (w/ Cloak), the Th'esare is out)
The attack served two purposes: To test the new Obish tactics, and to draw fire.
G'verpt'ai es'it'b'tel /If they have the brain of a g'ver Gk'it'pteq gve Opteq... /They'll attack as we do... Vra' Pte'vra'tel /Weakness is strength Varteqra san /In the heat of battle.
And the deception continued...
(We're going to use our tactics for a bit, maybe 4 hours, running and feinting. We won't lose anything, but we won't destroy more than a ship or two. It's mostly an attack advantage for others)
------------------ -=MoC 94:19=- "Cheaters don't really win, and winners don't really cheat. Unless you're talking politics." -Durandal (This message has been edited by Pallas Athene (edited 11-27-2830).)