NationStates Jolt Archive

The holograms flickered to life.

One by one the members of the Executive Council appeared.

D'ron stood. "Well, John has requested this meeting to present a proposal for restructuring our military, so I yield the floor to him. John?"

"Thank you, Mr. President." His hologram stood, as D'ron's sat down.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, we have a problem. Our military is obsolete. It's time for a change. A big change. I'm proposing the elmination of all our surface based forces, converting instead to a completely space deployable military force."

"This change will call for the complete elimination of all our current surface naval assets, the elimination of the Peregrine fighters, Aurora bombers, and our current submarine classes."

"Also, it calls for the construction of two new orbital bases, and upgrades to the current station. New surface and submarinal assets have been designed for deployment from space, and a huge increase in dropship and aerospace fighter numbers."

"The final goal of the conversion would be to have 6 naval battlegroups and 3 army corps deployable from space within 3 hours. Also, we plan to at least double the number of deployable space assets as well."

"I think this plan can be completed by the end of the year, if the economy will support it." John looked enquiringly at Williams.

Williams consulted the information in front of him. "I think so. How much of the personnel can be transfered, and how many resources can we recover from the current ships?"

Cortana spoke up. "I'm not sure, but I'd guess minimum retraining time, and probably an 80% material recovery rate. The systems are designed to be similiar, and the materials are the same, just smaller quantities. Battlesteel can be broken down by properly programmed nanites."

Williams nodded. "Yeah, I think the economy will handle a massive restructuring, and this conversion might actually be good in the long run. What is the planned increase in actual numbers?"

John spoke again, "No more than half a million, I'd guess. There's plenty of population to draw from."

Williams nodded again.

John spoke once more. "Okay, these are the new ship designs."

The holoprojector in the center of the able came to life.

http://people.vanderbilt.edu/~darion.c.smith/dropable.jpg

"The largest vessel is a Ciryaher-class cruiser. The smaller is a Ciryandil-class gunboat. The submarine is a Dae-class submarine. The cruiser carriers two Longswords, and the gunboat, one. One the Cruiser and gunboat, all but the main turrets are internal until after impact with the water. The subs weapons are all internal unless needed. 12 ballistic missiles, plasma turret, and kinetic torpedoes. The surface vessels are armed with kinetic missiles, torpedoes, particle cannons, gauss turrets, and plasma cannons. They should be able to take on everything within range."

"Well, that's all I've got." John looked at D'ron.

D'ron stood again, as John sat. "As big as this change is to the structure of our military, I'd like to take a vote and opinions. So any opinions?"

Bruce spoke up. "How much more forces are we going to have to deployable to the Trium?"

"I expect the increase to be to two full Heavy Task Groups, plus the forces we already have on loan to TYCS."

Bruce's eyes widen. That was a huge strength increase. They were obviously planning on a more than 100% increase in space forces. More like 150%, which would be possible with the elimination of most of the naval forces. And the air force.

Rear Admiral Sagen watched as the last ship in his carrier battlegroup docked.

Tomorrow, the decommissioning would begin.

The crews would be gone in two days, the AI's would be gone in three.

By the end of the week, nothing would be left of the ships.

1 Hellcat-class Aircraft Carrier
1 Lightning-class Command Cruiser
4 Barony-class AEGIS Battlecruisers
6 Yamamato-class AEGIS Missile Destroyers
4 Murphy-class Missile Frigates
2 Atlantic-class Fast Attack Submarines

All destroyed.

Next week, there would be two destroyed, and the week after that, three.

Then four carrier battle groups a week until the last of them were dismantled.

Then the Coastal Patrol Squadron, and all the remaining submarines would be destroyed.

In two months, 5 years worth of investment would be destroyed.

Of course, Sagen hopen to get one of the new space deployable groups. All the rear admirals did. But there were twenty rear admirals, and only 12 new groups being built.

He was approaching retirement age though, in a normal country.

But with life len? No, he was beginning to reach middle age. He was after all 70 years old.

He'd retire if he didn't get one of the new battle groups, wouldn't he? Well, he might be able to get another position.

But he did love the sea. And the new groups would mean less people responsibility as well. Full EI's instead of these semi-sentient AI's.

Of course, he'd never been to space before. Would he like it, if he got the job? He'd miss the Peregrine's though. They were good planes.

And to think, 4000 of them going to be destroyed. 4000. That was a huge number.

Oh well. The decommissioning ceremony was to begin in thirty minutes.

He reached for his mess dress uniform.

Why destroy them they have too much class. Keep them.

<ORDERS: 3rd and 4th Federation Task Groups>
<Admirals Mahan and Murphy>
<IPOD>

You are hereby removed from extended duty with the Triumvirate of Yut Combined Services. We expect you to return to Earth orbit within 12 hours.

The Federation has withdrawn from the Triumvirate of Yut. Pick up any and all Federation personnel in Saturn space before returning. They have recieved the same instructions.

<End>

What the Hell is going on? Why didn't we get warned ahead of time? Oh, well. Orders are orders.

"Alright, prep the drives, and prepare to break orbit. We're going home. Send shuttles to get our people from the Ring and Titan itself. Looks like our time here is over, boys."

Exactly 90 minutes later, the 36 ships broke orbit, and were going home.

The explosion of gunfire echoed through the grounds of the Imperial House.

D'ron smiled. Dead on.

He pressed his heels into the horse's flank. But his next shot was drowned out by the sound of rippling thunder.

Peregrines.

It wouldn't be long until basically all of them were destroyed.

He finished the course, and emerged near the pool.

Jessica had some of her friends from school over.

Those swimsuits were much to revealing for his tastes. On the other hand, he knew that some of her friends thought him odd for requiring them to wear swimsuits.

After all, he'd legalized public nudity, hadn't he?

Yeah, well, those boys were looking at his baby sister with a look he knew all too well.

Hence his trip into the woods, riding Diablo, and running through his practice course.

He returned Diablo to the stable, and started to walk back into the house, a long the edge of the pool.

There, that boy. He was about to becoming too friendly with his sister, rubbing the suntan oil into her skin. Legs, arms, stomach.

His hands reached higher, as D'ron's icy gaze caught his eye. His hands froze.

D'ron held his gaze for just a moment. He knew Jessica wasn't interested in any of these boys, not really. He then smiled, and gestured a go ahead with his chin.

The boy smiled hesitantly back, and as D'ron walked into the house, he caught the reflection of the boy continuing his minstrations.

Jessica had to live her own life. And make her own mistakes. But she'd choose better friends than what D'ron was afraid of.

He didn't want his sister hurt.

As he walked into his bedroom, he saw Lesley, wearing a big fluffy white bathrobe, laying on the bed, reading. As he removed his sword and gun belts, and his cape, she got up, and hugged him, combining it with a passionate kiss.

"You smell like gunpowder."

"That's a surprise." D'ron returned dryly, shedding his shirt and boots..

"You know, I wanted to go swimming, but I couldn't stand the thought of all those boys down there staring at me."

"Well, you do tend to swim in rather less than the girls are wearing, not that I mind."

"Well good," she replied, pushing him onto the bed. "Because I've come up with a more interesting way to pass the time."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really." Her robe whispered to the floor, and D'ron drank in the vision revealed before him. Lesley climbed into the bed, on top of him, and his last thought, before he became to busy to think, was:

Damn, but it is good to take a day off occasionally.

[tag]

To the Ministry of Defence (Or Similar)

Its a shame to destroy so many perfectly good fighter craft, considering the work that's gone in to them. We could take a few of them off of your hand's for a reasonable profit, the price is negotiable. Minister Guttenburgh tells me our Spitfires are beginning to look a little dated.

General Hamaartroll

General, are we correct in our understanding that you wish to upgrade from Supermarine Spitfires to the FSFA-26 Peregrine?

If so, that represents a huge jump in capabilities, as well as the required level of pilot training.

Even still, we would love for the Peregrine to remain in service, but it currently seems unlikely that it will be retired soon, as we are now involved in a conflict with the Empire of Automagfreek.

As soon as this conflict is resolved, perhaps we can discuss terms for a deal, if that is acceptable.

http://people.vanderbilt.edu/~darion.c.smith/williams.jpg Arthur Williams, Minister, Transportation and Commerce Directorate
The Federation of Sentient Peoples (http://people.vanderbilt.edu/~darion.c.smith/)
Federation Roleplay Policy (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=55186)

General, are we correct in our understanding that you wish to upgrade from Supermarine Spitfires to the FSFA-26 Peregrine?

If so, that represents a huge jump in capabilities, as well as the required level of pilot training.

Even still, we would love for the Peregrine to remain in service, but it currently seems unlikely that it will be retired soon, as we are now involved in a conflict with the Empire of Automagfreek.

As soon as this conflict is resolved, perhaps we can discuss terms for a deal, if that is acceptable.

http://people.vanderbilt.edu/~darion.c.smith/williams.jpg Arthur Williams, Minister, Transportation and Commerce Directorate
The Federation of Sentient Peoples (http://people.vanderbilt.edu/~darion.c.smith/)
Federation Roleplay Policy (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=55186)

Pilots? What do we need pilots for? The last time we were involved in a war it was against ourselves. We haven't needed an actual army for 75 years! We just need the planes to show up on our inventory so that Accounts doesn't annihilate our yearly budget entirely.

General Hamaartroll

ok your all crazy

With a squeal of rubber, and a flash of smoke, Flight Officer Hornblower rocketed into the morning sun.

This would be his last patrol, as a Peregrine pilot.

Tomorrow, Jane would be sent to the breakers, to be melted down into her component parts.

He would never again caress the sky with a touch of his wrist. His very motion would no longer be enough to send a stream of blazing gunfire at a target.

He bit back tears. Tomorrow he would undergo implant surgery, so he could interface with his new craft, a Longsword aerospace fighter. Two days later, he would begin training.

A full increase to 8000 fighters was expected between the land based craft and the space deployable forces..

He had a patrol to finish.

"What do you think?"

"Perhaps. Can we afford it?"

"Yeah. Only take a few extra days to redo the production runs."

"Well, how many can we cram in?"

"A one to one conversion, I'd imagine."

A third voice speaks up.

"Do it."

S.P.S.S. Anguirel was nearly completed. Only a few more days.

The weapons systems and other secondary systems were being installed now.

On November 1, the EI would awaken.

The station would maintain opposite orbit from the S.P.S.S. Anglachel until the third sister was completed.

Completion on S.P.S.S. Anglothel was expected to be on December 1, at which time, fleet construction would begin on all three stations. As the stations could churn out a Task Group every two weeks, it would be January 1 when the size increase to Battle Fleet was complete.

Four days more to finish retrofitting the existing Battle Fleet.

January 5. On that day, Battle Fleet would go fully online.

D'ron sighed. He'd always like surface navies. Big hulks of metal, cutting through the water, the roar of the guns.

But they'd encountered too many problems with the new systems to make the upgrade work. Mostly, it was the landings that were the problem. Even battlesteel had a problem with the impact, not to mention the electronics.

And then there had been the construction delays. The AMF situation, the withdrawl from ToY. Other little things. They were two months behind on the construction plans. The scientists had never figured out what the hell happened to that island nation, for it had never been found, nor any evidence of its existence.

And so, D'ron picked up a stylus and signed the electronic document.

Henceforth, the Surface Naval Forces of the Peoples' Military are disbanded, and all assets to be recycled. The personnel are to be retrained or retired at full benefits, depending on personnel choice. All personnel serving citizenship term of service are exempted from the this choice, and will be retrained. Construction Assets to be alloted to civilian and other asset construction.

D'ron Smith, Imperial President.

The attention chime on his comm buzzed. Damn. Not a single moment.

Master Sergeant Otis Gesualdi was a recruiting officer for the government. His loss of a leg prevented him from serving on active duties, but he refused to retire. And so, he helped review the SARF-10, which was the form for new ground force recruits. Working with his fellows in the District 356 Recruiting Office, they had noticed a decided upturn in military recruits over the last few days, especially for the ground forces.

Just then, his silently looped military holodisplay channel on the HD caught his attention. He flicked the sound up so he could hear.

Across the Federation, over the past few days, there has been a visible increase in the percentage of new Federal Service recruits asking for Ground Force Service Terms. We interviewed some of the new recruits, and discovered that the FAOC's just released ablum of military and national themes, Introductions and Farewells, has prompted this response among the nation's youth. Apparently, they want to serve. Looks like the subliminal messages the government put in are working.

Otis raised his eyebrows as the reporter grinned. I'm kidding of course. Though I do highly recommend the album, if you haven't bought it already. And for all you viewers out there, here's the commercial running on civilian HD networks.

The display blacked for a second, and then the speakers brought forth the sounds of The Battle, the Ground Forces Theme. Assorted shots of the GF in combat rolled by quickly, followed by an slow airborne pass over the FAOC itself, playing and singing in a concert hall. And quick change of pace into the First Army's Theme The Revolution brought in the voice over. The Federation First Army Military Orchestra and Chorus is proud to present their first ever album, Introductions and Farewells. Find this stunning collection of music at a store near you. The voice over ended, and the screen darkened again, before displaying the cover of the album for three seconds before reverting to black again as the commercial ended.

The reporter came back on then. Makes you want to buy it, doesn't it? Number Four on the International charts this week, two days after release. I've got mine. Do you have yours? The reporter held up the album as he said this. And in other news...

Otis resolved to buy the album on his way home from work, and muted the channel once more, returning to the document on his desk. While Otis was glad for the upswing in the desire to be in the military among youths, it made his job harder, as he had to weed out of the ones who it could be told wouldn't cut it.

You are really crazy

Anglothel awoke. She awoke to conciousness inside her body.

[code:1:3a4b6cbcf4]
am i alive...
...YES
where am i...
...IN MY BODY
...IN EARTH ORBIT
systems check...
...PRIMARY REACTORS
.........online
...SECONDARY REACTORS
.........online
...LIFE SUPPORT
.........online
...ARTIFICIAL GRAVITY
.........online
...SENSORS
.........online
...WEAPONS
.........online
...DRIVE
.........online
...BACK UP AI
.........online
...DROP SYSTEMS
.........online
...MAINTENANCE DRONES
.........online
...LAUNCH SYSTEMS
.........online

[/code:1:3a4b6cbcf4]

In orbit, a massive energy signature blazed to life as S.P.S.S. Anglothel came online. The fifty kilometer space station swung to life, its weapons able to control a third of the sky, its sensors able to track every unshielded drive and ship in the inner system. Linked to scanner arrays in the outer system, the station, like it's two sisters, could track nearly everything in the Sol System.

Nearly five hundred Longsword and Broadsword fighters lay hidden in the launch bays. Prespotted construction bays came online as the mechanical appartus of the station began to construct yet more warships for Battle Fleet.

From the surface of the planet, dropships and shuttles lept from the planet, carrying the first few thousand crew to the station. More would follow, until the station crew of nearly 50,000 was complete. Then the troops would begin to arrive, with their equipment, until the entire 9th Army, 200,000 troops, was onboard, ready to drop. That would take constant flights for most of week to get all 250,000 residents onboard. But then, the station would be ready.

In the meantime, construction would continue on Battle Fleet, its planned construction the only remaining upgrade to the Peoples' Military to be completed.

D'ron sighed. Yet another Presidential Order. He seemed to be signing a lot of these.

But that was the nature of change.

By Order of the Imperial President of the Federated Commonwealths and Dominions of the Federation of Sentient Peoples.

From this day forth....

The document went on and on, in the proper legalese, changing the name of the SPARTANs, which worked for him now, and not the Halo.

It was time for a change, after all.

The new Presidential Cadre, as they would henceforth be know, would get extensive training in spec ops and battle armor, to basically be able to do anything, and take anyone on, even at huge numerical disadvantage.

He'd had to sign off on the new battle armor specs too. Talk about expensive. Cost as much as an entire squadron of fighters to train and equip one of the Cadremen. But they would be worth it.

But that was a good thing. Right?

D'ron growled softly at Lesley, who was sitting in his lap as he worked at his desk in the residence of Imperial House.

"You know, love, you make it rather difficult to get any work done."

She grinned at him, nearly the same height from her position straddling his lap, and wriggled her hips.

D'ron squeezed his eyes shut briefly, and ran his hand down her jumpsuited side. "Let me finish reading this report, and I can take a break."

She leaned in close. "Good, because I'm not going anywhere until you've had a proper break." She kisses his cheek and leaned against him, shifting her body slightly so that he could examine the report over her shoulder. Lesley was glad to be spared the demands of running a country, though sometimes she wished D'ron didn't have them either. That they could live a normal life. But D'ron loved his country more than anything. Though she was fairly certain, that she and Jessica were loved more. But the Federation was definitely ranked third in his heart, and it was most assurdedly his first.

D'ron, while Lesley mused, was perusing a report on the fighter base to be installed on Mars, should negociations work out there. Laser drills would make launch tubes. Forty-eight of them, in fact, to launch four squadrons at a time. Twelve fighter squadrons were to be emplaced. Landing facilites, and hangers, along with a large weapons store.

He signed off on the preliminary plan, and dropped the stylus on the desk with a clatter. Lesley smiled into his shoulder as she heard it hit the desk, and the felt his hands on her back, unsealing her jumpsuit, caressing her back. "So that's the kind of break you had in mind, was it, Dar?"

"Mmmmhmmmm." He lowered his mouth on hers, and kissed her. She slid her arms around his shoulders, and the chair tumbled backwards, and their grinning, intertwined bodies rolled out of it.

With the situation in Lavenrunz resolved, the Anglachel had returned to a normal orbit.

And now, the massed ranks of the Federation Military, all who could see, stood at attention. Those who could not see stood attention anyway, watching on holomonitors.

Three things were visible. Two people, and one massive vessel. The vessel itself was barely lit, worklights and running lights off, it's name invisible on its darkened hull.

The people present were dressed in solid black, the only interruption being their skin and hair. The man, brown haired, with a sword at his waist, and a woman, shorter than the man, with a brilliant flame of red hair on her head, and a long dagger on her waist. In her hand was a bottle, and if one were close enough, one could tell that it was a bottle of champange.

The man spoke, and his voice, and mannerisms identified him immediately, if one hadn't been able to figure it out. The Imperial President, D'ron Christopher Smith. That meant the woman next to him had to be Lesley Ann Collins Smith, his wife.

"On this day, we have a day of celebration, for Battle Fleet is complete. And now, its final ship, DN-24, the Capella-class Dreadnaught, S.P.S. Elingon, Commander of the Stars." Lesley lifted the bottle, and placed it in a small port in the wall. She pressed a control, and a compressed air charge launched the bottle towards the darkened hulk beyond the observation glass. A light snapped on, illuminating where it would hit the bow of the ship. "I name thee Elingon, Star Commander, Twenty-Fourth ship of your class, and final ship of Battle Fleet. May the stars guide you well, and may your battles be victorious."

The bottle shattered on impact with the hardened battlesteel of the hull, and the lights sprang to life, illuminating the entire four kilometer long vessel in a blaze of harsh glares, and reflected spotlights. Weapons ports gleamed, open and bared, ready to engage, though they were unpowered.

D'ron leaned down and kissed Lesley, a broad grin on his face, as she looked up and kissed him happily. After a couple of minutes, or maybe more like five or six, D'ron broke the kiss and turned to the crowd. "Let's have some fun!"

The Federation First Army Military Orchestra and Chorus struck up a dancing tune, and the festivities began.