NationStates Jolt Archive

Arkhreifiate Council Chambers, Kel Eridhant, Tsaraine

"It looks ugly as all hell," Larak tsaGhen commented. "What is it?"

Rene tapped the screen controls, and the rotating model was replaced with schematics, long lists of the blocky Tsarainese letters scrolling down the screen.

"This," she said, "Is a preliminary model of the Ixhwa/Hades-class cruiser, to be manufactured jointly between the Co-Prosperity Sphere of the Territory and Tsaraine. The exterior is theirs, and it works. It doesn't have to look pretty to work, Larak. The rounds-per-minute on those coilguns is most pretty, I think."

Off to the side, Tanyi ralGhema was smiling slightly, the Kash'ha tatoos on her face shifting weirdly. Finally, the Arkhora had taken heed of her advise to get more hulls!

"What the Territory will be building is essentially an unfinished model, without antimagnetics or other classified systems. We're also purchasing slip space from the Territorials, to install those ourselves. I pointed out that we have our own yards at Far Stone, they pointed out that shipping military hulls through the solar system is something of a gamble. They've also mentioned the possibility of testing in Saturnspace."

Due to the presence of the Triumvirate of Yut on Titan, Saturnian orbit was some of the safest space in the system, rigorously patrolled by the Triumvirate navy.

"We're also going to be installing the Treznorikh Transition Drive systems in these things, to provide emergency support for the TESEC should it be necessary," Rene continued. "Any questions?"

Raigh tsaChein stood up, looking upset. "Yes," he said, "Why is the ASF getting yet more hulls, when the AN doesn't yet have any military vessels?"

"I'm assigning resources where they're needed most, tsaChein. The Sekhmets wouldn't last a second against most of the space navies out there, and given the state of the Solar System, it's likely they'll go up against one of them sometime. Meanwhile, we have not yet ever experienced any attack coming by sea."

"Which means that when we do, all I'll have to stop it is infantry and a few fixed-position Lucifer artilleries! Currently, if we were attacked by sea we'd likely lose the Tekhat Katai'i, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"For that matter, I need a bomber," tsaGhen commented. "The AAF needs better response times than the Shrike guns can give."

"And the Army needs a new MBT," Erin tsaKell added. "The Reaver is a deathtrap."

"I'll set the AR to fixing that, then. All of you." How had so many holes developed in the military she'd carefully built up?

"Research is already overtaxed!" Kyne ralGhema protested. "You can't make military design specialists pop out of nowhere!"

"Then maybe we'll need to approach foreigners for design assistance. The Marshall Islanders should be able to help with all those problems, and they're our allies now."

"Excellent." tsaChein sat back down, mollified, as did the other Arkhreifs and Arkhreifane. Tanyi ralKeyra still seemed happy; at least somebody had gotten what they wanted.

Markhreif's Offices, Ksafr, Nlabj-Sfamb, Tekhat Katai (E Anlabj)

"She what?"

Markhreif Tsuekj-Abani put his teacup down carefully. "You have to look at this from her point of view, Raigh," he said, careful also to pronounce the tongue-breaking Sekhel words correctly. The Amrasenabj man was careful in everything.

"Yes, the Arkhora has reduced the Arkhreifiate of the Navy to a Corps under the Air Command. Yes, this makes you now an Arkhgraf under Arkhreif tsaGhen instead of an Arkhreif under Arkhora Seingult.

"But, as we know, Arkhora Seingult's love is for the stars and not the seas. That is why she pushed Tsaraine through the air and into space so fast, after all. And that made gaps, gaps Larak tsaGhen is impatient to fill. After all, the man is still lacking any sort of dedicated bomber craft."

"And meanwhile, I'm lacking any sort of military craft at all!" Raigh tsaChein replied. "What have I got? Fifty transport submarines and a few surface support vessels. Transports! Against some of the navies out there, we'd lose the Anlabj in a single day!"

"If we were to oppose them with a surface navy, yes. You are not sailors in your hearts, you Tsarainese - you are horsemen. Save you, Raigh, and you are something of an anomaly to your fellows. But this is how Arkhora Seingult thinks; air superiority beats naval superiority, and orbital superiority beats all. She cannot have her spacecraft descend into atmosphere, so the next-best is antimagnetic craft like the Chrei'khor carrier.

"And she is probably right about them being better, in this case; the Anlabj are a small group of islands, and Tsaraine itself is flat and dry. Antimagnetics can rule sea and sky with equal ease, but a ship cannot fly, cannot well defend against gravships of the Menelmacari or Melkori or who knows what else.

"So of course she gives tsaGhen his antimagnetics, rather than you your hulls. To her, it makes sense."

"But putting the Navy under tsaGhen? What possible purpose could it serve to have my ships commanded by that limp-wristed effeminate sonofabitch?"

"Five sixths of your vessels are antimagnetic, Raigh. TsaGhen needs your crews' expertise in antimagnetics to bolster his air fleets. And his personal life, whatever you may think of it, does not seem to affect his work - by all accounts, he is very good at it. And then, of course, it costs much less to run a Corps than it does an Arkhreifiate. With a little rearrangement, Arkhora Seingult can save a fair bit of resources - and with the military developing in every direction, she needs those resources. The Army needs a new MBT and power armour, the Air Command needs a bomber and all those antimagnetic craft, the Starforce needs cruisers, freighters, and always more hulls. By putting you under tsaGhen, suddenly the Navy needs nothing."

"Very logical, Tsuekj'. Just like the Arkhora or an Ea. But logic misses actual people, I think. You know Seingult hasn't been laid in fifty years? That's why. Too logical, daen karkaradt Ruki!"

Tsuekj-Abani's wide lips twitched upwards into a sharklike grin. "Maybe someone should, for the good of the people. Are you volunteering, Raigh? She's not that bad looking, despite however old she actually is. Just lie back and think of the Navy."

"Ana vokh, Tsuekj', there are limits to what I'm willing to do for the navy, and that is one of them. Ainra kal Ruki! Excuse me while I scrub my brain of that image, please."

"You did bring it up. Compared to that, though, working under tsaGhen looks good, no?"

Tartarus Yard, off Vulcan Station


It wasn't the best of names for a person's place of work, but at least the name was temporary. The new owners were free to rename it. Of course that would involve some actual work that didn't contribute to anyone's survival. Just the sort of thing spacers never got around to doing, what with having to work to stay alive.


Coming in over the curved scattering of installations that made up Vulcan Vrel keiTanet had looked down on rows of spidery slips that went on forever, the (sometimes huge) ships dwarfed utterly by partly-built civilian colony cylinders. The transport had glided past one thirty-kilometer behemoth just hundreds of meters off the hull, before entering the brief void between Vulcan and Tartarus. Zero Gravity Engineering Yard Number One. Should probably be called Kel Arkarant. Whatever.


More important things to think about. He unfolds the set of manuals and checks a few things that want attention. There are things in common between living on a Territory installation and on a Tsarainese one. Just enough to get killed by the differences.


Ahead is the wheel of the primary habitat, hub connected to the bloated thing that is the yard security cocoon by commuter rails. Inside that are six slips just like the ones outside. That'll be a bitch and a half, working inside some bloody sack instead of free space. At least seeing the stars from the habitat would be easy. And Saturn, though the rings would be invisible here in the plane.


Docking. Grabbing bags and dismounting into the micro-g station hub.


Smells hit first, cool neutral machine smell under fresh woodland. Light colors, sunlike lighting, wood everywhere and green growing through panels.


And a Territorial just outside the door, yellow-green eyes in dark brown face catching his. Nod, and an odd little curve of a smile, not showing teeth. "Welcome to Tartarus, M keiTanet", says the shortish, broad... woman, he'd say. Young, too, maybe seventeen. Then again not human so looks could mean anything. "Anna Illugisdottir Matete. I'm with volunteer services and assigned to help you acclimatize."