NationStates Jolt Archive

<TIGHTBEAM GROUP LINK 12SBG>
<Apache ---- Blackstar>

>>I'm picking up some weird energy readings.

<<What kind?

>>Gravatronic.

<<Where?

>>[vector][locus]

<<Will inform flag.

______________________________________________________

Aboard the S.P.S. Blackstar, Flag, 12th Space Battle Group

"Commodore, we may have a problem."

"Yes, Blackstar."

"Apache is picking up some wierd gravatronic readings along [vector] at [locus]."

"Give me a visual."

On screen the darkness of space appeared, looking absolutely normal, with the S.P.S. Apache glowing in it's drive field. And then Blackstar added false color to the view. A swirling mass of color appeared, spiraling inward, and then back out.

"What the hell is it, Blackstar?"

"I don't know, Commodore. And if we don't alter course soon, the Apache will be entering the event at any moment."

"Group orders, all stop, immediately, cut drives."

But it was too late. The gravatronic scanners told the tale first, but at this short a range the visible display showed it happening. The blue glow of the destroyer's drive field stretched until it was compressed completely, sucked into the swirling vortex of gravity.

"No.... Find them."

"Nothing sir. No debris, no radiation, nothing.

Aboard the S.P.S. Apache, Destroyer, 12th Space Battle Group

"Skipper, we're heading into the vortex."

"Keep scanners on full. Continue to transfer data to Flag."

"Aye aye, sir."

"Sir, orders from Flag, cut engines im.... holy sh......."

The Apache slid too close to the vortex of energy, and then, to the rest of the known universe ceased to exist, ripped into non-existence by the powerful gravity forces.

And then, the ship popped back into existence. The sun was the wrong color, for one thing. And the 5 planets in completely the wrong places.

"Where?"

No answer came from the EI. The weapons were down, and most of the systems were offline. Many of the crew were shaking off massive headaches, and getting over being sick to their stomachs.

"Where the hell are we?"

Corporal Flynn TAGgart reporting for duty, sir!

Aboard the S.P.S. Apache, Destroyer, 12th Space Battle Group, The Other Side, Mission Time: 00:05

reboot sequence:
am i alive....
weapons....
sensors....
engines....
life support....
reactor control....
all systems....

"Captain?"

"Apache? You're awake! What happened?"

"Yessir. Hang on for a second." A moment passed, while Apache reviewed the logs. "It appears that the gravity vortex was some sort of 'wormhole' for a lack of better name."

"Where are we, Apache?"

"I'm attempting to figure that out, sir. Permission to launch recon drones."

"Granted. Keep us on this vector, though. Or better yet, stop us here."

The ship slowed to a stop, Apache having better control than the crew, at the moment.

From the missile batteries, 10 recon drones spewed forth, seeking every bit of information they could about the system.

Aboard the S.P.S. Blackstar, Flag, 12th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 00:05

"What the hell just happened, Blackstar?"

"The Apache has vanished, sir."

"I can see that. I want an explanation as to what happened to 257 of my men, Blackstar."

"And I have none to offer you Commodore."

"Inform command immediately, communication."

Aboard the S.P.S. Apache, Destroyer, 12th Space Battle Group, The Other Side, Mission Time: 01:30

The officers filed into the conference room and took their seats at the table, Captain at the head, Apache's avatar standing behind him.

Captain Turtledove opens the conference. "We have been here a little over an hour and a half, now. And we've accumlated a good bit of information. First, Navigation?"

"Yessir. We are currently located in a system 297 light years from Sol, which happens to be unnamed, due to the star's spectral class, which isn't bright enough to be seen from Earth. In that case, I'd recommend that we name the star Apache-A, an M4-III, as we've detected a small secondary star, Apache-B, which is an L5-V."

The captain interrupted. "You named the star Apache?"

"Yessir. It seemed the most appropriate thing to name it."

The captain nods. "Alright, what do we know about the Apache system, Guns?"

"Four planets, one asteroid belt. First planet is at 36 million kilometers, 500 kilometer radius, with an 88 day year. Atmosphere is helium, carbon, and chlorine, with a solid surface.

Second planet is at 87 millions kilometers, 1000 kilometer radius, with a 216 day year. Atmosphere is Carbon, Oxygen, and Chlorine, and a solid surface.

Third planet is at 151 million kilometers, 3500 kilometer radius, with a 376 day year. Atmosphere is Helium, Carbon, Krypton with a solid surface. Well within the liquid water zone, sir.

Next is the asteroid belt, at 211 million kilometers, with 428 day average orbit, composed of the standard iron and nickel, plus large amounts of Magnesium, Potasium, and Iridium.

Lastly, we have a gas giant at 350 million kilometers, with a 1409 terrestrial day orbit. Atmosphere is composed of Helium, Carbon, Chlorine and Hydrogen. Radius is 118,000 kilometers.

Give me and the tactical section another hour, sir, and we'll know just about everything our sensors can tell us."

"Very good, Guns. Now, the important question, to both you and communications. Is there anyone else out there?"

Both officers shook their heads. The tactical officer responded, "Not that we've picked up, sir."

"Alright, you've got another hour people. I want as many repairs done as possible, and then we're collecting up the drones. I want to try going back through the vortex in three hours. Apache, do you know why our systems when down before?"

"Yes Captain. It appears to have been some sort of feedback between the drive field and the gravity vortex, due to the power level we were operating at. If we go through at a lower power level, we ought to be okay."

"Alright, people. I want to be on the way home in three hours, at the latest." He rose, and the rest of the command staff rose with him. "Dismissed."

Aboard the S.P.S. Apache, Destroyer, 12th Space Battle Group, Apache System, Mission Time: 02:33

Turtledove read the report on the system that Apache had compiled from the available data from all departments.

Apache System, Binary, 297 Light Years from Sol, 4 planets.

Apache-A
Star Designation: Primary
Spectral Class: M4-III

Apache-B
Star Designation: Secondary
Spectral Class: L5-V

Apache-A-I (Rocky)
Orbital Radius: 36 million km
Planet Radius: 500 km
Year: 88 E-days
Day: 94 hours
Atmosphere: He, C, Cl
Hydrosphere: H, O, S
Lithosphere: Cu, Ir, Au

Apache-A-II (Rocky)
Orbital Radius: 87 million km
Planet Radius: 1000 km
Year: 216 E-days
Day: 18 E-days
Atmosphere: O, C, Cl
Hydrosphere: C, N, Hg
Lithosphere: Cu, Zn, Os

Apache-A-III (Rocky)
Orbital Radius: 151 million km
Planet Radius: 3500 km
Year: 376 E-days
Day: 44 E-days (retrograde)
Atmosphere: He, C, Kr
Hydrosphere: H, I, Hg
Lithosphere: B, Al, Zn

Apache-A-IV (Gas Giant)
Orbital Radius: 350 million km
Planet Radius: 118,000 km
Year: 1409 E-days
Day: 8 E-days
Atmosphere: He, C, Cl, H
Hydrosphere: None
Lithosphere: Pb, Co, Rh

Asteroid Belt
Orbital Radiu: 211 million km
Year (Average): 428 E-days
Primary Composition: Fe, N
Secondary Composition: Mg, K, Ir

Notes: Gravatronic disturbance similar to the vortex we passed through to arrive here located at [vector][locus] from the primary. Possibly another point of similar function.

It was nearing the appointed time. Time to go home. Or try at least.

Turtledove stood. "Guns, launch the drones."

On the master plot, six dots of light drifted away from the Apache and towards the marked point of the gravity vortex. After about a minute, they vanished into the vortex. They were programmed to go through, determine their position, and come back.

Now they would wait.

Aboard the S.P.S. Blackstar, Flag, 12th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 02:40

The Commodore was waiting on a reply from Fleet Command, as there was no sign of the S.P.S. Apache. And so he sat, staring blankly at the local plot, the gravity vortex that had ate his ship sitting out there, mocking him.

Something caught his eye. Movement on the plot. Six new light codes blinked into existence, before two of them vanished forever. A moment passed, and then, the light codes vanished.

"What was that?" the Commodore demanded.

"Sir, those were recon drones. From the Apache, sir."

"Oh my God."

Aboard the S.P.S. Apache, Destroyer, 12th Space Battle Group, Apache System, Mission Time: 02:45

"They're back, Skipper. Well, four of them anyway."

"What did they get?"

"Definitely back to Sol System, sir. The rest of the Battle Group is still there."

"Why only four drones?"

"According to the data, two of the drones interpenetrated when they came out the other side."

"Hmm. Makes me glad we're only one ship. Are we ready?"

Apache spoke up. "Yessir. Systems on full manual control, going offline now." Apache had theorized that if the she was shut off during the transition, she would come back up immediatly on the other side, instead of having to reboot the ship. And so she shut herself off.

"Alright. All hands, prepare for transition, brace positions. Set Condition Two." Turtledove waited a moment, and then. "Navigation, take us in. Minimal drive power. Let's go home."

The ship slipped forward, slowly, under a fraction of it's full power. It interfaced with the vortex, and vanished...

Aboard the S.P.S. Apache, Destroyer, 12th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 02:50

Apache came back up, nearly instantly, as the ship emerged from the gravity vortex.

Really needs a catchier name than 'gravity vortex.'

The sensors snapped back online displaying the system around them. Home.

The other eight ships of the Ninth Space Battle Group waited there for them. Apache received eight welcome back message nearly at the same time.

"Captain Turtledove, I am pleased to announce that we have returned to the Sol System."

"Excellent, Apache. Transmit data files now."

Aboard the S.P.S. Blackstar, Flag, 12th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 06:10

"Thank you for your report, Captain Turtledove. You performed admirably in an unexpected situation."

"Thank you, Commodore."

"Now that you have reported in, we've received instructions from Command."

"Sir?"

"We're to maintain position until a science vessel can be deployed. The Tenth SBG will be coming with it. We will then proceed to escort the ship into the Apache system, and conduct a full survey. The Tenth will maintain position on this end of the gravity vortex, holding it for our return. Our primary allies will be contacted, to see which, if any, of them wish to help us in exploiting this discovery."

Yessir." Captain Turtledove did not understand why exactly he was being told this.

"Captain, you are to take the Apache back through the gravity vortex, and wait for us to arrive within ten hours, reporting in via recon drone every half hour. Understood?"

"Aye aye, sir."

"Dismissed."

Captain Turtledove came to attention, and, turning on his heel, departed.

**************

<TRANSMISSION Opens: Standard Diplomatic Code>
<TO: EOTED, Menelmacar, Vortex Corporation, Whispering Voices, Tarasovka, Diablo_NL>
<FROM: Transportation and Commerce Directorate, FSP>

We have discovered something of high importance at the edge of the Solar System, at approximately 45.63 AU from Sol.

The discovery is described in the attached, heavy encryption file.

We wish to know if you desire to assist us in exploiting this discovery.

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/)

<TRANSMISSION Terminated>

##Encoded Diplomatic Transmission##
Destination: Transportation and Commerce Directorate, FSP
Source: Defence Council, Infrastructure Council, TVC

Indeed, this discovery is very interesting and has the potential to be revolutionary in many different fields. With your permission, we would like to send a scientific expedition to enforce any vessels you might be sending to investigate.

The vessels we request to deploy are one Carrier of the Chimera Class, carrying a full protective wing of strike craft. In addition, it will be escorted by two Flak Frigates, two Ion Frigates and, of course, two Science Frigates.

We have already authorized the captains of the vessels to assemble their crews and load their ships with the necessary supplies and equipment, awaiting your permission.

==============================

The Vortex Corporation
Corporate Coalition
Templar Alliance
CENNA
SATO
WTE
SFN

”We bring new worlds to Life”

Highely Encrypted Transmission.
Source: High Council of the Duchy.
Destination: FSP Transportation and Commerce Directorate.
Concerns: New Discoveries.

The Grand Duchy is ready to assist in the exploitation of this wonderful discovery.

On your permission, several of our scientifical teams and ships will assist you, accompanied by a Thylacin Dreadnaught and Emerald Spire cruisers.
The ships are ready to leave upon confirmation of authorization.

We are looking forward to working with the the Federation of Sentient Peoples.

Thank you for your attention.

<Transmission>
<To: Federation of Sentient Peoples>
<From: Ministry of Foreign Affairs>
<Subject: Recent Anomalous Discovery>

Thank you for this information. It is currently being analysed by a Joint Ministerial Taskforce, however it is unlikely that we will take any action simply because it would take us approximately six years to reach said location in any meaningful way.

**begin transmission**
**encrypt**

Big Brother would like to request any information that you can spare regarding this anomaly. Two years ago, one of our flagships was lost to an entity similar to the one your men encountered. In addition, several corporate cargo vessels are reported missing each month. It has only recently begun to disrupt the economy, and we would like to know how to avoid future mishaps.

-Cmdr. Jon Wolverton
Secretary to the Defense Minister
The Big Brotherhood of Josephland

**end transmission**

OOC: Josephland, you cannot have any In Character knowledge of these events. Please change your post accordingly.

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 09:30

The ship blazed towards the outer system, tearing through space at 35% of light speed. Well inside the bubble of protection afforded by the 10SBG, the Science Vessel S.P.S. Matrix rode calmly with them.

As non-military vessels were wont to do, Matrix was chattering, broadcasting its boredom across the airwaves. Bluestar was ignoring her, as were most of the ships in the Battle Group. Except Inhibiter. But she'd been the most talkive since the Battle Group had awoken. So Bluestar had assigned her to keep Matrix occupied.

In five more hours, though, the Matrix would be the responsibilty of the 12SBG. And then Bluestar would content herself with sitting still, watching the gravity vortex on this end, making sure no one unfriendly waited on this end.

Aboard the S.P.S. Apache, Destroyer, 12th Space Battle Group, Apache System, Mission Time: 09:35

Apache watched as the drones slowly spread through the system. A second gravity vortex had been confirmed in the system, and sensors were pointing to the presence of a third at the very least. Interestingly enough, it appeared that the presence of the gravity vortices in greater numbers limited the FTL in system. In fact, it appeared that the presence of multiple gravity vortices in system completely blocked all know forms of FTL engines from operating in system, and for some distance around it.

Looked like a full survey would take the science vessel, though. No way of determining what exactly was going on here until better sensors had arrived.

Aboard the S.P.S.S. Anglachel , Battlestation, Space Command, Sol System, Mission Time: 10:00

Launch.

Two thousand recon drones spewed forth from the station. Their mission: Find any similar gravity vortices in the Sol System.

It was doubtful anything would be found, seeing the immense amount of traffic in the system. But anything was possible. The drones were programmed to to search a one light week sphere around Sol itself.

Drones were, after all, cheap. And if there was something to be found, it would be.

EDIT: Fixed the Apache's location. Fixed the right Battle Group number that Bluestar was thinking of.

24 hours ago.


Command Report - High Priority
Intelligence Update - Sudden Movement

Executive Summary,

Recent and sudden communications increase from Sentient Peoples suggests matter of importance. Communications intercepted to Menelmacar, EOTED, Vortex Corporation. Communications interecepted from Whispering Voices. Encryption not yet broken.

Long range monitering of signal source <37'1",187'13",45.63> shows disappearance-reappearance of refracting objects.

System tracking reports Trasovkan, Vortex ships mobilizing. Human sources monitering supplies report outfitting for unusual , long-range insystem travel.

Analysis: Unlikely location suggests something found, possible alien device. Refracting objects are likely ships. Disappearance-reappearance possibly related to superluminal travel or some form of sensor cloaking.



20 hours ago.


General Orders
Commodore Martin West
Urgent

Take charge of first flotilla. Make all possible haste towards <37'1",187'13",45.63>. Approach cautiously, expect heavy military and science presence. Keep distance and observe. Avoid engagement if possible.

Other personal already assigned. Intelligence report attached.



8 hours ago.

The sentry on duty snapped to attention,
giving a smart solute.
The Commodore passed with hardly a glance,
but honored the sentry back.

The CIC was full under blue light,
the Captain at his post.
The Commodore nodded, the Captain ordered,
and the flotilla left its dock.

Above the elliptic the ships sped inwards,
towards the burning light.
Then rounded the star towards their goal,
their origin lost in flight.


Currently => Rewritten Later

OOC: Whoever you are...

Its TARASKOVYAN, not Tarasovkan :x

Nice post apart from that. :)

{Imperial Diplomatic Corps Transmission #20932092}

{TO: Transportation and Commerce Directorate, FSP}
{FROM: Ambassador Relhatti}
{SUBJECT: RE: Discovery}

{TIME: ERROR, TIMESTAMP MISSING}
{ENCRYPTION: STANDARD EOTED->FSP DIPLOMATIC}

{COMMUNIQUE COMMENCES HERE}

The Empire would be most interested in assisting its valued ally in the exploitation and investigation of this new discovery. - With permission, the Empire would much desire to send the newly refitted science vessel IDSS To Seek, To Find along with a miniscule fighter complement to the site of the discovery.

{TRANSMISSION TERMINATES HERE}

OOC: I've only got one problem with the Hephestus Orbital post.

The timing.

By my clock, it's only been ten Earth hours since the Apache wandered into the gravity vortex.

The allied governments would have been informed approximately 5 hours ago.

But a great post. If you want, we can figure it into the RP as it fits in, as it shouldn't be more than one or two posts on my part until the times match up.

Or you can change it. I like the first option, myself.

Your choice.

Also, everyone else, you can assume a request for permission resulted in immediate permission for your ships to deploy, so as to not drag this out with a bunch of communiques back and forth.

IC:

Aboard the S.P.S. Apache, Destroyer, 12th Space Battle Group, Apache System, Mission Time: 12:45

Time for another report. The third gravity vortex was confirmed, and the drones had been recalled to recharge. A single drone slipped out of the rear weapons port and shot away towards the gravity vortex. It would take ten minutes to get there from the Apache's current position, and five minutes to transverse to the distance back to Sol.

They'd discovered that when the Apache's ship clock was exactly ten minutes behind the rest of the Battle Group's on it's return. So a short program had been written to auto update the clock, for the transition appeared to be instantaneous to the crew and vessel.

The To Seek, To Find bridge was vast.

Bigger than those found even on a Retribution class ship, even. Yet it felt cramped, somehow. Small. Possibly this was because the bridge was a veritable hive of activity; consoles were crammed in everywhere they could fit, and in a few places where they shouldn't have been able to, to boot. Sure, there were wires hanging out of the consoles; but when your staff like to modify everything every few hours, seemingly at whim, what can you do?

Captain Uxrad sighed. He wasn't a scientist. He was a soldier, a military career man. Had worked his way up the ranks as a security officer, for most of his career; this was...

It was worse than hell.

It was boring.

"ETA?"

He'd asked before. But he felt the need to ask again.

The helmsman had to scramble back up into his position; he had been underneath his console, tinkering at something or other. "Total estimated travel time is at two hours, sixteen minutes, and forty-three seconds - from fifteen seconds time. Sir."

"Very well. As you were."

He sighed.

It was most definitely worse than hell.

* * *

The carrier-sized science vessel IDSS To Seek, To Find accelerated hard through cislunar space, heading out towards Luna for a slingshot outwards to gain speed faster.

She was faster than a military vessel, packing more total energy expenditure for the MI cores; with no PDEF grid to speak of, she was poorly defended but obscenely fast - in comparison with your average EOTED warship, she was around six times faster in the acceleration stakes, and almost twice as fast as far as projected upwards velocity threshold went.

Silently sweeping about the Moon, she surges away from the Earth-Luna system and onwards towards an eventual 10PSL in about an hour and six minutes time, her requisite velocity to begin a series of pre-calculated transitional Hops out to the site of the FSP discovery.

The massive ECV Elrandir was not ready for her first jump out-system yet. The drive had been tested successfully, but the loading and outfitting was not quite yet complete.

This did not, however, apply to the research vessels Elrandir carried, basically heavy modifications on the standard Menelmacari cruiser hull.

Thusly it was that Elrandir Atta ("Star-pilgrim Two"), the second of the five research cruisers carried by Elrandir, separated from the great ship and carefully maneuvered out of the massive Menelmacari-Kechan shared Orbital Drive Yards, setting a tesseract course - a simple 44-AU jump.

The drive was activated, the tesseract bloomed open, a crackling red tear in spacetime, drawing the cruiser in; Elrandir Atta vanished, the tesseract itself disappearing a moment later.

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
Regent of Lavenrunz, Chancellor of CENNA
"We have known freedom's price. We have shown freedom's power. We will see freedom's victory."
~US President George W. Bush
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
Clicky-clicky!

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 15:05

One by one, the ships of the 12SBG slid into the gravity vortex at two and a half minute intervals, disappearing from the command plot on the bridge.

Then the Matrix disappeared. Sentient Peoples was fully commited to the project, now. New light codes began to appear on the local plot, though, as allied ships began to approach.

THe Taraskovyan and Vortex deploys slid steadily onward, approaching at speed, but slowing down as they came closer, energy blazing from them.

The gravity warping effect of the Menelmacari tesseract drive was well known, and 10SBG stayed well clear of the Menelmacari reentry vector.

One last light code popped into existence on the plot. The IDSS To Seek, To Find, the only vessel that the government had gotten a name on. Not that it mattered if they had names or not. Records began to be made as the ships came forward, electronic signatures being entered into memory.

Bluestar sent out the pre-recorded message as she picked up the ships.

FSP Commanding Officer on the other side of the gravity vortex is Commodore Marshall, commanding the 12SBG, from the S.P.S Blackstar. The 12SBG should be waiting on the other side for you when you arrive, one at a time. One at a time seems to be the recommend method of transversing the vortex, due to the possibility of interpenetration on reemergence. Feel free to go through in whatever order you want. Make sure to update your ship clocks by five minutes when you reemerge, as you lose that much time. We'll be here when you get back. FSP Tenth Space Battle Group.

As the transmission terminated, a drone fired from the Bluestar into the gravity vortex, carrying the electronic signatures of those vessels approaching to the waiting Battle Group on the other side.

The captain of the Dikune, a fairly large science vessel, received the order to investigate this gravatic anamoly, that the Sentient Peoples have discovered.

The ship resembled that of a brick quite much. But esthetics were never important with mass production vessels.
The course was plotted and the star drives were engaged. Much like the tesseract drive, it tore open space and time, but it emitted large quantities of radiation. High enough to instantly kill someone. Because of that the ship would jump a fair distance away and move it's way to the anamoly.

The crimson vortex of the Menelmacari tesseract bloomed open once more, disgorging Elrandir Atta back into realspace somewhere in the Kuiper Belt.

Caun Carnalagos, the vessel's commander, smiled as the ship emerged; the sensors immediately registered the presence of Bluestar and whatever other vessels had arrived. Also incoming was the pre-recorded message.

He turned to his sensor officer. "Set the chronometer to advance five minutes automatically when passing through the anomaly. Helm, what's our recharge time?"

"It was a very short trip, milord," replied the helms-elf, "So the tesseract will be fully charged in twelve minutes. If we have to jump quickly there are three full charges remaining in the batteries."

"Very well. Hail Bluestar."

The frequency was opened. "This is Caun Carnalagos, of the Menelmacari research vessel Starpilgrim Two, calling FSP vessel SPS Bluestar, notifying you of our arrival. The Lady sends her regards to your people, and has stated she would be happy to have Menelmacar aid in the research and development of this find."

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
Regent of Lavenrunz, Chancellor of CENNA
"We have known freedom's price. We have shown freedom's power. We will see freedom's victory."
~US President George W. Bush
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
Clicky-clicky!

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 15:08

"Elen síla lumenn’ omentielvo, Cuan Carnalagos. I apologize that that is the extent of my Quenya, Captain. Hope you have fun on the other side. Under this transmission is an update of the logs from the Apache. It contains everything we know and theorize so far. I recommend going through the vortex at a low drive setting. Higher drive settings seem to increase the physical effects and ship disruptions. Any questions?"

Sensors monitored the Menelmacari ship as it crept closer to the gravity vortex.

The Dikune flew (as far as you can fly in space) closer and closer to the area near the anamoly.

As it got within a few thousand kilometers they send out a greeting to their allies. "Greetings honorable allied scientists. This is research vessel Dikune from the Empire of Diablo_NL. We have come to investigate this gravatic anamoly."

As the ship crept ever closer and closer untill it got almost in formation with the other ships it again send out a message. "This is captain Rodger of the Dikune. Is a video conference, mind our old terminology of it, with all present ship captains of convenience? We beleive we should best combine our resources."

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 15:10

Commodore Rickman and Captain Maguire chuckled softly as they heard the message addressed to 'Allied Scientists,' which, the 10SBG was most assuredly not.

"Sir, permission to let Captain Rodger know exactly what he's dealing with here?"

Rickman grinned, and nodded.

Five seconds later, the fire control sensors of the Bluestar blazed to life at full power, locking up the Dikune for just under a quarter of a second before shutting down completely again. With weapons offline, it was hoped that it would be interpreted properly, as the naval officer's joke that it was, and not a threat.

A visual signal bounced out from the Bluestar less than a second later, that of a striking woman with dark auburn hair and slate grey eyes. A small grin twitched at the corners of her mouth as she introduced herself. "Captain Rodger? I'm Captain Alicia Maguire, of the Sentient Peoples Battlecruiser Bluestar." The use of the word battlecruiser, as opposed to 'ship,' and the stress placed on it further gave away that the naval officers were a tad miffed with being confused as civilians. "While you are welcome to stay here and keep us company, and study the gravity vortex from this end, I'm fairly certain most of the scientists are going to the other end. We're transmitting everything we know at the moment to bring your vessel and crew up to date since earlier contact. Let us know what you intend to do." Maguire visibly waved her arm in front of her, and the transmission died away.

As the Bluestar raised it's weapons hundreds of alarms went off on the Dikune. And the crews quickly got ready for an impact.
When the weapons went offline the captain had to manually take the alarms offline.

"Greetings honourable Captain Alicia Maguire. Please forgive our use of the word scientist. I would also like to advise you not to take such actions again with ship from our nation. Some are a bit eager to kill in battle." He says, clearly showing that he was not amused by what they did.

A massive EM signature blares into existance 150,000 kilometres out from the Bluestar, from a direction almost completely aligned with the line of elipse, in a 'westerly' direction - as far as that goes, in space.

The EM signature appears first; stretching some seventy thousand kilometres in every direction at first, it snaps down to a size a scant ten thousand kilometres across. And then the ship To Seek, To Find blazes into existance, electrical energy crackling across her hull for several instants as she reverses engine power-

She sweeps around the general area, executing decelleration burns all the way, in a vague 'orbit' of the Bluestar - she needs alot of room to decellerate, of course, all the way down from 0.08c. She is unreachable, for the time being; her intense MI field prohibits communication.

Eventually she cruises to a relative stop - relative to the Bluestar - and her sleek form can be studied for the first time. She is somewhat plump, but sleek and curved nontheless, and owns a somewhat rounded, wide body - she is far wider than she is long, by an order of three magnitudes. Roughly the same size as a Fear class carrier, she is around 580 metres wide and just under 194 metres long; she does not appear to carry any weapons whatsoever - but there are several long, sleek and barely visible EM-launch tubes on the underside of her hull that look capable of launching dropship-sized objects.

She pings a laser beam at the Bluestar, at the appropriate sensor cluster/stack;

"This is the military science vessel IDSS To Seek, To Find, representing the Empire of the Eternal Dawn. - We assume we are expected..." There is a brief pause. "...uh, Sentient Peoples Battlecruiser Bluestar?"

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 15:13

Maguire grimaced before speaking to the Dikune again. The grimace, was, of course, not transmitted. Some people had no sense of humor.

"Of course, Captain. It won't happen again. Please feel free to proceed at your convience."

She terminated the transmission, and looking at Rickman, shrugged. The EOTED ship had decelerated to matching velocity with the Bluestar by this point, and they received the hail.

Maguire sighed, and waves to the communications officer, who flips on the las-comm. "Welcome to the edge of the system, IDSS To Seek, To Find. You may proceed whenever you are ready." Underneath the voice transmission, a full upodate of the logs, and known information, and recommendations for proceeding, and the status and electronic signatures of all the Sentient Peoples vessels in the area.

"We're ready to proceed immediately, Bluestar. For your records, we're sending in a single X# SSF. She has a far smaller EM signature than us, and we'd like to study the effect on her MI cores before we proceed; redundancies, you understand."

As the voice speaks, a small segment of the hull of the sleek To Seek, To Find flourishes with soft blue-white light; she has opened an EM tube.

From the little light upon her hull bursts forth the gleaming blue light of the sleek, tiny-silhoutte of an X# fighter. A bit more rugged than her atmospheric cousins, she is still nontheless little more than a small blue-white teardrop-shaped bullet streaking outwards. Sensors would only read the EM signature; the tiny ship is far too smoothly shaped and far too narrow to be readable to anything but bi-directional scanners - that is, having two scanning objects placed at opposition to each other and having the little fighter fly between them.

She bursts forwards, accelerating quickly - in just two seconds she hits 2.1kps. Weaving with ease past any obstacles in her path, she pulses slightly as she decellerates a tad - down to 1.4kps - and all but cuts her propulsive field as she nears the gravitic anomaly-

OOC,

waiting for promised 9 hours extra time for HO ships to arrive.

please?

OOC: Sorry. I didn't expect getting everyone through the gravity vortex would take this long.

IC:

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 15:20

Maguire watched as the X# approached the gravity vortex, and then crossed the point of no return.

Sensor now calibrated to watch what happened displayed it for all to see. The MI field disappeared, and then, the fighter itself elongated and vanished in a flash of light.

Aboard the S.P.S. Apache, Destroyer, 12th Space Battle Group, Apache System, Mission Time: 15:25

Captain Turtledove was on duty monitoring the gravity vortex on the far end.

A flash of light, and then the X# appeared, MI field snapping into existance about it.

"Welcome to the Apache system."

Someone aboard a ship almost bumps his head falling asleep at his post.

OOC: Seeing as how this is dragging out, I'm going to move it along some what forcefully. If you mind, tell me.

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 16:05

Maguire watched as the last of the allied ships slipped one by one into the gravity vortex. She sighed.

And then she looked down at the screen connecting Command to the Flag bridge. "Commodore, care for a game of basketball, staff on crew, in the ship's gym?"

Rickman grinned. "We'll beat you this time, Captain."

"As the Commodore says."

Aboard the S.P.S. Blackstar, Flag, 12th Space Battle Group, Apache System, Mission Time: 20:00

Commodore Marshall stood, and allowed his holoimage to be transmitted out to the ships arrayed in the Apache system.

"You've all seen all the data we have on the system. It would appear that we have a decision to make. There are two gravity vortices, which the Matrix scientists are insisting I call 'warp points,' that are unexplored in this system. That leaves us with a decision. We can either split up our forces, or we can stay together, and leave one warp point unexplored. Especially as the scientists claim there should be a whole chains of these things, if their hypothesis is correct. I think their 'hypothesis' is a hunch and a prayer, but I'm willing to go with it. Since the Federation government has refused to authorize a third space battle group at the current time to explore the warp points, I recommend splitting our forces as follows. The FSP, EOTED and Menelmacari vessels will proceed down one of the warp points, and the Vortex, Taraskovyan, and Diablo_NL vessels down the other. That would seem to be an even distribution of both vessels and military strength. I am open to opposing points of view, though. I leave this decision up to all of you, though, seeing as there isn't really a defined command structure, though I suggest also that before we proceed much further, we define one."

The channel remained open for responses.

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 20:05

The attention chime rang on the Captain's comm in her quarters. Jumping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself, and accepted, voice only.

"Maguire."

"Captain, we're detecting some vessels approaching, at the extreme edge of active sensor range. Passive tracking seems to indicate an approach course, identity is unconfirmed, though suspected non allied."

"Keep an eye on them. I'll be up in about an hour to check them out. Don't do anything active unless they show hostile intent. If they get within powered weapons range, try to figure out who they are, though."

"Ayeaye, Ma'am."

"And tell the Commodore."

"Ayeaye, Ma'am."

"Maguire, off." She killed the connection and walked back to the shower, closing her eyes as she stepped back under the warm water.

OOC: HO - Powered engagement range is approximately half a light second at combat speeds, 2 light seconds at maximum potential for acceleration. So basically, unless you come a lot closer, they aren't going to do anything. They might ping you at 2 light seconds, and start active tracking at 1 light second, but you'd have to show an active interest in them to to get them to do anything, though they will continue to monitor and attempt to figure out who you are.

Rewrite,

http://members.cox.net/davage/images/Iris-Corvette.jpg

Aboard H.O.S.S. Thewarld, Lead, 1st Flotilla, Sol System, Mission Time: 20:10



Command Log Entry,
Commodore Martin West,
2008:191103,

The flotilla has arrived within four ship hours of the location intelligence provided. Ships from several nations have been confirmed moving to the point and vanishing. So far, none seem to have responded to our approach. Either they can not yet detect us or they are playing dumb.

The encriptions used still have not been broken, but we are close.

Sensors have picked up a gravitational disturbance around the target location, and the H.O.S.S. Meger Operations Officer has suggested its nearness to background radiation prevented us from detecting it before. We would have had to be close, and even Sol space is vast.

Petty Officer Petra Boomer of H.O.S.S. Travoli has found similarities between mathematical modeling of this anomaly and that of recorded data from Menelmacar on Earth. Both seem to share some hyper-spacial similarities while retaining many differences. I am uncertain what this means, but I am sure many scientists back home will be thrilled.

I plan on taking the flotilla within a few light-seconds of the meeting point and waiting. If they don't make a move then the Captains and I will discuss one of our own. I do not intend to initiate contact.

END LOG

:tag:

And bump for the good RP. Don't let this one die folks.

"Son of a bitch!" muttered the helmsquende aboard Elrandir Atta as the X# blazed past, passing only meters from the hull and vanishing into the anomaly ahead.

"Cut forward thrust, immediately!" Carnalagos ordered. "If we go in there at the same time as that damn fighter and its irresponsible pilot, both he and us will be destroyed. Dammit, we should blow him out of the sky once we emerge - he put us all at risk."

The Menelmacari ship's gravitic cores inverted polarity for a moment to stop Elrandir Atta's advance as quickly as possible, bringing the cruiser to a halt scant tens of meters from the anomaly. The entire bridge crew let its breath out with relief, most of them unaware they'd be holding it.

"Wait ninety seconds, then resume course," Carnalagos ordered.

Once the requisite time had passed, the cores activated once more, sending Starpilgrim Two over the edge of the unknown...

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
Regent of Lavenrunz, Chancellor of CENNA
"We have known freedom's price. We have shown freedom's power. We will see freedom's victory."
~US President George W. Bush
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
Clicky-clicky!

Rodger watched the incident with the X# happen and was quite shocked, he was quite happy at the Menelmacari captain's quick response.

Once all the vessels have gone through the anomally he orderred his ship to quickly follow them through.

Irtaxi ux-Rihad had whooped with glee as he had 'skimmed' the Menelmacari ship; a collision would, of course, been quite impossible...

...but the MItoGravitic Interaction Effect was a well-discussed phenomenon. Boom.

That thought sobered him, somewhat, but not enough to prevent him whooping again as he passed out the other side of the vortex. The MI core fluctuated slightly-

"Don't you dare, babe," he snapped at the fighter through his LSR; the perfluorocarbon-filled cabin wasn't optimum for talking, really. And truly, it was a pain in the arse to drown every time you wanted to fly - but the performance of the bird was to die for. Almost literally, in fact.

The X# skidded to the right, rolling through the wrong axis - Irt (Irtaxi was always known as Irt) responded by simply adapting his grip on the nobbled control 'stick'. Really, it was an EM handler; that meant that the EM field responded to the interaction of your fingers against it. There were no moving parts; simply twists of fingers and responses. It took a good year to get used to the system; which was why it wasn't being adapted to other craft - yet.

"Welcome to the Apache system."

Irt tapped the auto-response control, deciding he had other problems. Like, for example, attitude control wasn't responding properly; the MI core had probably experienced a surge.

He sighed heavily, internally cursing at the taste of the disgusting stuff he had to breathe through.

Clicking contacts closed - the sounds were strange in the liquid environment - the Imperial-blooded Nenyan commander of the nigh-on-legendary Alpha wing set about reseting certain components in a certain order.

"By the book," he murmoured.

"Unknown command," the computer irritably chirruped in his ear.

Except it wasn't the computer that was irritable. But that, as all things are in space (if you'll excuse the rather obscure pun), was besides the point.

* * *

Some time later

The IDSS To Seek, To Find had sailed through the vortex comfortably; her MI had field shut down as they passed the PNR, removing the problems that the error of the X# pilot had produced the first time around for the tiny fightercraft.

Her hull blazed with light as she popped back into existance amongst the already-gathering ships; a laser had blinked on briefly, connecting her to the Menelmacari ship; a pre-recorded apology packet arrived for the Menelmacari commander the next instant. Naturally. - Although the Captain of the To Seek, To Find had not quite been able to suppress a smile at the risk-taking by the X# pilot; the confidence of his fellow Nenyan was somehow... exhilerating.

Now the bridge of the To Seek, To Find was hushed; the trimensional 'visor displayed the FSP Commodore. The Captain of the To Seek, To Find states quietly (with the absolute lack of hesitance that being a member of the Nobility rather than the Citizenry brings, in the Empire of the Eternal Dawn) once the Commodore is finished; "We are unarmed, I'm afraid. Although we do have a fighter compliment... just twenty, though, as we have a considerable number of... uh, other equipment... on board. Redundancy is important, you understand, especially on a non-armed military science vessel. However, I am under orders to follow the FSP line, as it were. Technically, I retain jurisdiction in certain circumstances... but you, Commodore, generally hold the final word. My superiors feel that this is the Federation's expedition, and respect dictates that it ought be treated as such."

Aboard H.O.S.S. Thewarld, Lead, 1st Flotilla, Sol System, Mission Time: 23:32

"Captain," the boatswain spoke up, "scan reports they will get optimal data within four lightseconds."

"Very well Chief, hold us at two."

"Yessir." The boatswain turned his head towards navigation, "Nav, hold Sol orbit at two ticks linear."

"Yessir, preparing to hold at two ticks linear, Sol orbit."



Two seconds in history,
engines glowed, flaired, and flickered,
then went silent.

Three ships bound Sol,
mired in light, dust, and shadows,
watching without singing.

Two eyes on each,
spun round, heavy, and omniscient,
viewing time past.



Aboard H.O.S.S. Thewarld, Lead, 1st Flotilla, Sol System, Mission Time: 24:00

Data comming from the corvettes interupted Lieutenant Hadding's thoughts, draging him away from guessing motives. He felt close to the anomaly and the ships around it. He felt endangered. But the data was flooding in.

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 21:15

Maguire strode onto the bridge of her ship, looking every inch the captain in her dark uniform, hair swept back behind her ears.

Artificial gravity meant long hair was an option in space once again, though Maguire's was only shoulder length.

She gazed at the holographic plot for a moment, and then spoke a single word. "Report."

"The unknown vessels have continued to close for the moment, Ma'am, though slowly. They seem to operate on highly efficient reaction drives, but other than that, they don't match anything in our database."

"Do we have a holo?"

"At three lightseconds, Skipper?"

"Eh. Good point. Alright, using our Longswords, I want a spherical patrol pattern that puts a flight group on those ships in about three hours. Find out everything you can about them without initiating contact. I want a report after lunch."

"Aye aye, Skipper."

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 21:37

Lieutenant Stephen White sighed softly as he jacked into his fighter. Hello, baby.

Good morning, Steve.

He grinned. Squadron check?

Ready.

"This is Lieutenant White. My squadron is ready to launch."

"Understood, Lieutenant. Ready, and....... NOW!"

The twelve fighters slashed forward as the electronmagnetic catapults slammed the pilots back in their seats, giving them a tiny base acceleration. As the tiny vessels clear the Bluestar, their drive fields popped into place, and as they slide through their mothership's drive, they were roughly yanked into a perfectly matching velocity.

Good thing fighter pilots had strong stomachs, as a general rule.

White spoke to the squadron now. "Begin you sweeps, people. David, Anne, on me."

The four flights of three fighters each slowly spiral away from the battle group at diffent angles, filling and defining a sphere, though slowly.

White's flight would intercept the unknown vessels in two hours and fifty-eight minutes.

Aboard the S.P.S. Blackstar, Flag, 12th Space Battle Group, Apache System, Mission Time: 23:45

Marshall watched as his group of thirteen vessels drew closer to the newly dubbed 'Apache warp point beta' as it was the second one ever detected in system.

They had, after some discussion, chosen to bring the Diablo vessel with their group, instead of his orginal intention.

All the ships had been briefed on the safest strategy for this operation. Send recon drones through the warp points first.

This would hopefully keep them from walking into a trap of any sort.

"Launch drones."

Ten drones dropped away from his flagship, and Marshall watched, as one by one, they vanished into the warp point. No need to blow them without reason. They after all only had a limited number of them. The drones were programmed to return immediately if they detected anything resembling a drive system or space vessels of any type. If not, they were supposed to explore the system, spiraling outward for at least an hour before returning.

Aboard Lt. White's Longsword, Strikefighter, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 24:05

Lt. White ordered his fighters to slow as they approached the unknown vessels. While the ships were not large, they easily each outmassed all three fighters by a huge amount.

The fighters hung, within applified visual range, examining the vessels before them.

Long, nearly cylindrical bodies with a rotating midsection, possibly to generate artificial gravity.

But that clumsy a method of grav generation wouldn't bring ships out this far, at least not routinely, and analysis of the sensor logs showed them coming from insystem at an appriciable speed.

Then they were advanced, but not overly so. EM emissions were very strong from the ships, which indicated some sort of heavy scanner outfits for their size. Scouts. Maybe science vessels. Nothing that seemed to indicate heavy weapons or any sort of passive defenses other than armor.

HVMs, had they been armed with them, probably could have ripped the unknowns to pieces. But they weren't, instead, they only has plasma cannons.

The range finder spun downward as Lt. White pulsed his radar, trying to get a good read, and perhaps figure out who the ships belonged to.

"Group orders, upload all sensor data to the Bluestar. Maybe they can make some sense of it. We've done what we're here to do. Close range pass, see if we can spot some markings, and then, back to the barn."

Four clicks sounded over the mike, acknowledging his orders.

The fighter's drives blazed to life and they swept in closer, cannons powered down.

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 24:05

Hydrogen bumped into hydrogen under massively controlled circumstances.

The nuclei fused, and nearly incalculable energies were released, as the pattern repeated again and again.

This was the beating heart of the S.P.S. Bluestar, and of the EI named Bluestar that kept the ship as it's body.

Body and home, all in one.

But did the ship truly have a soul?

Once through the anamoly Rodger emediatly ordered his men to calulate their exact position in the universe.

From prior reply: The vessels we request to deploy are one Carrier of the Chimera Class, carrying a full protective wing of strike craft. In addition, it will be escorted by two Flak Frigates, two Ion Frigates and, of course, two Science Frigates.

Location: the 'normal' side of the anomaly

Seven purple windows appeared in the cold space surrounding the anamoly. Those who observed witnessed how the flotilla of Corporate craft exited the hyperspace gates, slowly de-accelerating, and coming to a full stop well in visual range of the other vessels present at the scene. Following standard procedures, the two Flak frigates assume broad formation in front of the carrier, with one ion frigate both above and beneath it. With the two science frigates lingering behind the carrier, the commander of the main vessel opened communications.

"This is the Sharock exploration flotilla. We apologise for our late arrival. We had to load up our equipment at the Sajuuk shipyards, yet sudden mobilisation of the second fleet prevented us from doing so for some time. We're here now, and ready to do our part. As far as we know, this anomaly transports vessels to an unknown point in space. Is there anything else we should know, perhaps about the plan of operations?"

Taraskovyan 7th Battlegroup,
'Other' Side of the Anomaly.

- Weapons systems operational.

- Machinery operational.

- Communications... operational.

- Infrastructure... at 100%.

The confirmations went on and on inside of the command bridge of the massive Thylacin dreadnaught. The Emerald Spires, Support Frigates and the Science Vessels all around it were also doing their checks are reporting to command center, that being the Thylacin of course.
Finally, everything was done. The warp did not damage any of the ships, all was fine.
The Admiral was checking the work of his officers, asking some to check the current position, others to monitor the area, others to go get him a cup of coffee. Of course, those were not officers but just some technical personel.
The voice of the BSI resonated on the Bridge.

- Sire, FSP command suggests we enter warp point Beta, accompanied by Vortex and DNL assets.

- Well, then thus shall be done. Contact the scientists and tell them to upload all current data to your database.

- Of course, Sire...

OOC: Since some people seem confused.

http://people.vanderbilt.edu/~darion.c.smith/situation.JPG

This is the current situation at 24:00 Mission Time

Sol System.

All allied assets have departed the Sol System.

All that remains are the HO and FSP 10SBG, which has fighters sweeping on search patterns.

Apache System

The allied forces have split into two groups, one for each of the unknown warp points.

Vort Corp and Tarasovka (Group 2) will go down one warp chain, while the others go with FSP down the other.

Diablo_NL was orginally supposed to go with the Group 2, but wanted to stay with Siri, apparently.

The FSP group is probing their warp point with recon drones, and Group 2 is sitting there, awaiting something to happen, apparently.

Any questions can be asked on IRC.

Taraskovyan 7th Battlegroup,
Apache System.

The Science vessels composing the group exited formation and stopped by the 'Stellar Object of Warp Point type'.

There were five science frigates in total. Two of them approached the Warp Point and released several drones into it.

The drones, quickly hurried into the vortex and... vanished...

In a matter of seconds, the BSI in the Thylacin contacted the Admiral.

- Sire, scientists have first readings from behind the Warp Point.

- Transfer onto main projector.

Immediately, the projector was showing some star in some system. Some planets around. Nothing out of the ordinary...

- Life signatures?

- Still scanning, Sire.

- Good...

Aboard Lt. White's Longsword, Strikefighter, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 24:05

Lt. White ordered his fighters to slow as they approached the unknown vessels. While the ships were not large, they easily each outmassed all three fighters by a huge amount.

The fighters hung, within applified visual range, examining the vessels before them.

Long, nearly cylindrical bodies with a rotating midsection, possibly to generate artificial gravity.

But that clumsy a method of grav generation wouldn't bring ships out this far, at least not routinely, and analysis of the sensor logs showed them coming from insystem at an appriciable speed.

Then they were advanced, but not overly so. EM emissions were very strong from the ships, which indicated some sort of heavy scanner outfits for their size. Scouts. Maybe science vessels. Nothing that seemed to indicate heavy weapons or any sort of passive defenses other than armor.

HVMs, had they been armed with them, probably could have ripped the unknowns to pieces. But they weren't, instead, they only has plasma cannons.

The range finder spun downward as Lt. White pulsed his radar, trying to get a good read, and perhaps figure out who the ships belonged to.

"Group orders, upload all sensor data to the Bluestar. Maybe they can make some sense of it. We've done what we're here to do. Close range pass, see if we can spot some markings, and then, back to the barn."

Four clicks sounded over the mike, acknowledging his orders.

The fighter's drives blazed to life and they swept in closer, cannons powered down.


ooc- No (or few) EM emissions from the ships yet. Passive sensors only so far.

ic-


Three pinpricks of EM/grav transmission glared in the vast emptyness. Closer, closer they came; six great eyes and many smaller watching. They screamed radar, three ships echoed their calls. More data flowed in.


Aboard H.O.S.S. Thewarld, Lead, 1st Flotilla, Sol System, 21:40

Captain Mayover: "So, someone decided 3 for 3 with less risk."

Commodore West: "I agree. Ideas?"

Commander Sans: "Show and tell takes at least two."

Commodore West: "So we give them what they want?"

Commander Sans: "Yes."

Captain Mayover: "We can do one more, take a peek when they can't see."

Commodore West: "But will it work?"

Captain Mayover: "Will we get our peek? Yes. Will they find out? -- There is a general order for testing."

Commodore West: Nodding. "Commander?"

Commander Sans: "Risky, but no one is remembered for not taking risks."

Commodore West: "Again, I agree. Standard Operating Procedure is a SOP." -- "Alright, send this message to Mirage direct --"



And so it was at 23:11 that a shade glimmered quickly by the cockpit window of a Lieutenant White. That flicker, something in space? A reflection from my lit canopy? A precursor to insanity? A figment of imagination? But it was gone without a sensor trace, not to be recaptured again.




Aboard H.O.S.S. Thewarld, Lead, 1st Flotilla, Sol System, 24:05

Captain Mayover: "And so they arrive, shall we begin active scanning?"

Commodore West: "Local sensors only, we'll wait until they pass."



Three fighters 'drifted' in towards the flotilla, buzzing EM.

Three ships held 'stationary' in Sol orbit, and begun to flicker their own spectrum.

Information was exchanged. Full 3D analysis of each as fighter rounded corvette, markings.

H.O.S.S. Thewarld SS-2A
H.O.S.S. Meger SS-2B
H.O.S.S. Travoli SS-2C

Many MANY obvious sensors, few obvious weapons, mostly small in size, but one very odd thing. Gravitic scans provided no detail, the ships looked vaguely like eggs. They were smooth, not conforming to what EM scans and eyes both alike said.

And the fighters headed back. [[ooc- If you'll permit me that, you said they were going to go back. I will leave extra time between this part and th next for more actions.]]



Aboard H.O.S.S. Thewarld, Lead, 1st Flotilla, Sol System, 24:27

Captain Mayover: "The fighters have turned, it is time. Have our three bring active EM scans online, 50% standard, directional towards their ships. No grav."

Lieutenant Meson: "Yessir."


Deep inside reactors, "pilot lights" flared, fusion increased, six great eyes glared across space. The spectrum started high, X-ray, and floated down, down, into radio. The corkscrew of emmissions blasted past the returning fighters, lighting space behind them like a minature sun.

Elsewhere, four shadows hid in the glare, their skins copying background radiation, gravity in a most camillion-like fashion.

Incapible of hard acceleration, they did not bother to slow down. Two would round the ships and head through the porthole. Two would round the ships opposite and head into space for the long way back.

A peek at the ships, and a peek through the anomoly. Would it go unnoticed?

"Right, do exactly what the Taraskyovans are doing: release the drones from the hangar bay and send them through the anomaly"

"Affirmative, Sir"

The hangar bays opened, and from the blueish light of the inner docks of the Carrier, five Spider drones exited and slided into space. Basicly, these drones consisted of an engine, monitoring equipment, and some equipment allowing them to carry samples back to their mother vessel. As they approached the anomaly, a flight of five pulsar corvettes followed right behind them, making sure that no 'unfortunate accidents' would happen.

While the corvettes stayed behind near the GDT vessels, the five drones went through the anomaly. Soon, readings started coming in, which also was reported to the Taskgroup commander by the scientists on his own vessel and the two scientific frigates.

"Sir, we're cross-referrencing the data we are getting with that of the GDT vessels. It seems like we are both receiving the same readings, so we can assume a 100% reliability of our measurement instruments."

"Good. Continue scanning, on all parameters. I want to know everything we can about that system and the anomaly"

In the meanwhile, the pulsar gunships formed up in a claw formation in front of the anomaly. should anything unknown come through, with hostile intentions, it would be reduced to shrapnell in mere seconds by the energy weapons on the corvette, not to mention to enormous firepower of the GDT Thylacin behind them.

"This is the thing that sucks about exploring space. You never know when the stuff from the movies actually starts to happen. And if it happens, guys like us are always the first to get killed", one of the corvette pilots mentioned over the com.

"Yeah, but at least we'll die with a lot of explosions and visual effects", was the reply of his wingman.

"Seraph 1, Seraph 2, necessary communications only. Keep your mouths shut and keep looking at that hole"

Aboard Lt. White's Longsword, Strikefighter, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 24:28

The alarms all went off at the same time. What the hell?

Through his link with the Longsword and with his eyes he saw with the sensors.

Holy crap. Alice, forward the data to Group Flag. They don't appear to be targeting, just heavy duty sensors.

Blindingly powerful, Steve.

I can tell.

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 24:30

Maguire grinned as the signals registered. So they want to play, eh?

"Scanners, I know we've got all the data from the fighters. But I want to confirm it. Pull me a hull map."

"Yes ma'am." The scan tech was excited, a grin in his voice, though his expression remained mostly professional.

An absurdly powerful radar reached out, mapping every facing surface as powerful computers fed the data in and tried to identify the oncoming starships.

The scan tech saw a small blip on screen, but shook his head, deciding it was nothing but a sensor ghost.

But procedure was procedure. He sent out another active pulse, radar and lidar. But no return.

Well, then. Nothing there.

From deep space, a faint, pre-recorded distress message can be heard on all frequencies. Astoundingly, it uses an international Earth protocol. The signal is a million kilometres sunward from the asteroid belt, slowly drifting towards the inner system.

It is transmitting an exact position every 15 minutes.

Lieutenant-Commander Jill Rackham cringed as the FSP ships opened up their active radar. Her hands gripped the controls of her fighter as she waited tensely for some sign she had been detected -- it never came. Her squadron section flew on.



Aboard H.O.S.S. Thewarld, Lead, 1st Flotilla, Sol System, 24:30

Commodore West: "Why do I get the sudden urge to turn on my brights?"

The bridge crew laughed.

Captain Mayover: Smiling. "I don't think we need to, readouts on the ships are comming in, but if you want -"

Commodore West: "Best not. We may need a suprise later."

Captain Mayover: "Yessir."

The crew waited, the Captain took a catnap in his chair.



LtCmdr Rackham narrowed her EM band watch to that of human-normal as her fighter passed the FSP ships. Had she a clear canopy, she could probably read hull letters with her unaided eye - barely. But that was the other teams mission, she was headed for the anomaly.

With comm silenced, she kept her nose pointed at the FSP ships. To turn around them, she would need to accelerate towards them. And so she did.

Past the ships, she boosted the engine as much as she dared, and the gentle tug of the heatless neutron drive changed her trajectory. Her shadow's shadow followed.




With comm silence, Lt. Jameson couldn't talk to his lead. Instead, he matched her actions, flying only a few short seconds behind.

The rift approached, a silhoute appeared against its gravity, Jameson cursed. "SHIT!"

Detection was the worst thing that could happen to the hidden, but it was too late. He was already entering the event horizon.



Aboard H.O.S.S. Thewarld, Lead, 1st Flotilla, Sol System, 24:53

Commodore West, Captain Mayover, and everyone else aboard bridge or scan of the flotilla unwittingly echoed the Lieutenants curse two seconds later...the time it took for light to reach that far. "SHIT!" said they in unison.



LtCmdr Rackham entered a new solar system a short time later. A few seconds more and the loud noise of EM/grav emissions announced the arrival of her shadow. She cursed, "SHIT!", and watched her scans carefully as the ghost image vanished from the anomaly.

Nothing.

No, nothing near. The red light of the system's star glinted off planets, moons, and -- some things were accelerating in directions other then towards that star. All were safely far away, for now.

Rackham opened up communications on low-power comm, it was time to share data with her wingman.

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 24:52

A small EM spike on the arrays. The scan tech stared at it. Neutrons?

And then his panel flashed.

"Status change!" he called out. "Small craft entering the anomly, Ma'am!"

Maguire's eyes narrowed as the sensors locked up the second of the two craft just before it entered the warp point, pulling a great deal of information from it's hull and engines.

"Condition Red Two." She said calmly, and the atonal howl of the General Quarters alarm pierced through the ship board activities.

Of duty crew members crammed into their vacsuits, and as sections began to report in, blast doors began to slam closed through out the hull. The alert went to the other ships as well, who had also detected the fighters.

"Guns, give me the best targeting you can, without going active again. Comms, transmit a challenge to those three ships, get their IFF's, if nothing else. Scanners, short range only. If there are more of those fighter size ships out there, I want to find them."

The standard challenge transmission lanced across the void, heading away from the quivering, ready, firepower of the Federation Tenth Space Battle Group. "Oncoming vessels, identify yourselves immediately. This is the Federation of Sentient Peoples Tenth Space Battle Group."

Within shorter range, a powerful set of lidar came to life, lighting up space around the vessels to range of a light second. It would be obvious farther away of course, but the SRLA (Short range lidar array) had an extremely small focal distance, relative to the size of the system.

In addition, point defense came online, incase unforseen problems occured.

Aboard H.O.S.S. Thewarld, Lead, 1st Flotilla, Sol System, 24:53

Lieutenant Meson: "Sirs, incomming challenge. Looks pretty standard."

Captain Mayover: "On air."

Lieutenant Meson: "Yessir."


"Oncoming vessels, identify yourselves immediately. This is the Federation of Sentient Peoples Tenth Space Battle Group."


Commodore West: "Hmmmm. -- We have too much of an accent to answer them directly." he thought aloud. "We'll have to answer by action." Louder, "Captain, spread the word, take scanners down to 20% power and put it on full spread. I want to see anything that approaches. Keep weapons offline, but ECM on. Let our escorts know to put fighters on ready alert. And keep it low-power directional laser only, I don't want them knowing about our escorts."

Captain Mayover: "Yes Commodore. May I note that they probably don't know the fighters were ours."

Commodore West: "Good point." The Commodore thought a moment. "OK, compose a text message for reply -- and copy their actions."

Captain Mayover: "Yes Commodore."

:::::::::::::::

Sensor power cut by more then half, dirveted all-round
Point defenses came online, close-In LIDAR Activated
Transmission Sent



Hephestus Orbital Science Group Delta
No hostile intentions
Request reason for sudden defense change




No small vessels were detected nearby...not because of stealth, but because none were any longer nearby.




Ghost 12 Team, Apache side, Apache:Sol Anomaly, 24:58

*Ghost 2 this is Ghost 1, we are clear. No one nearby.*

*Roger that L.C., you made a shadow against the anomaly on the way in, they know we were here.*

Data began to transfer between the two ships, if one failed, everything up to this point would still be available to analysts.

*-sigh- I was afraid of that. You made a positive splash on the way in, I am sure we both did. No one nearby enough for detail, but they will know someone entered as soon as our lightwave catches up with them.*

*Worse 1, I bet we make the same on the way back in.*

*Right. OK, here is the plan--*



ooc- still waiting on results of scans on fighters and FSP ships by the three HO ships. Names and close-up info can wait until two fighters return (some hours yet).

"Sir, we have something strange"

"What is it?"

"Two of the drones are measuring some sort of...spots interfering with their scans?"

"Go on"

"It seems like those spots fly by, and their presence is only recorded by a direct hit with active scanners...the rest of our equipment does not pick them up"

"Allright...relay your data to the other vessels and try to analyze what that is all about."

[OOC: Bit lost as to what's going on, here, hence the lack of posting. Oh well.]

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 24:55

Commodore Rickman strode onto the Bluestar's Flag Bridge, and motioned for Maguire to carry on through the video link connecting their two locations.

Maguire looked at the main bridge crew, waiting on them to do their jobs, knowing that as soon as they knew something, she would be told. But she tapped her fingers lightly on the arm of her chair.

She glared at the text in a small window of her displays.

Hephestus Orbital Science Group Delta
No hostile intentions
Request reason for sudden defense change

She made a decision. "There will be no reply. Order one squadron onto CAP on the warp point, rotating shifts. I want to know everything we can about these ships, especially where this Hephestus Orbital is. If the unknowns return through the warp point, tractors only. Catch them up, and reel them in."

Deployable Comm Array X6J1, 12th Space Battle Group, Apache System, Mission Time: 24:58

The Comm Array was there, half a light second from the warp point. Due to the inability to transmit through the warp point, communications had to be done by drone. But drones were slow compared to comm waves.

And so, the tiny, stealthed, passive array sat, awaiting any messages it might need to send. It noted the presence of two bursts of EM radiation, consistant with what its newly reprogrammed idiot savant brain saw as 'warp point transit.' It readied a signal, ready to append the message it was to be recieving.

But no message came, and this activated another set of protocols. Twenty minutes after the EM bursts, it sent a transmission towards the 12SBG, alerting them to what it knew. Which wasn't exactly much.

01:00

The FSP patrol detects changes in the Hephestus Orbital flotilla. One of the three ships powers down all defenses, all sensors. The outboard objects continue to rotate, but there are no more emissions from it...beyond those standard for any ship.

And it moves forward. It accelerates slowly towards the warp point.

No change in the other two vessels, they stay where they are.

Aboard the S.P.S. Bluestar, Flag, 10th Space Battle Group, Sol System, Mission Time: 25:01

Maguire watched the ship beging to accelerated towards the Battle Group, and her eyes narrowed. "Commodore?"

Rickman nodded over the vidlink.

Maguire looked up. "Condition Red One. Comms, put me on speaker with that ship." She held up a hand to indicate in a minute. "Guns, active tracking, but keep the individual weapon sensors offline for the moment."

"Yes, ma'am." Rickman nodded his approval over the link. Maguire dropped her hand, and cocked an eyebrow at the Comm Officer, who nodded.

"This is Captain Alicia Maguire, of the S.P.S. Bluestar, to the oncoming Hephestus Orbital vessel. Please state your intentions and secondary registry immediately. If you do not, this is your only chance to withdraw." Rickman blinked at the last statement, but it was acceptable, especially after the fighter sized craft had penetrated the formation, though the request for a secondary registry might tell them who these people were.

Maguire cut the transmission from her own console, and began snapping orders. "Bring up the deception mode ECM, and change our signatures slightly. Also, sense we don't seem to have a method of detecting those small craft, I want to be able to dump our helium bunkers at a moment's notice."

The First Exploration Group, consisting of the 12th Space Battle Group, the Menelmacari Vessel Elrandir Atta, the EOTED vessel To Seek, To Find and the Diablo_NL vessel Dikune had mapped six star systems, including their present location.

Of course, the EOTED and Diablo_NL vessels had been forced to turn back at various points, but the trail of commsats had points the way home. Now, the S.P.M.S. Matrix and the Menelmacari Science Vessel, the 12th sat ready to leap once more into the unknown.

The drones sped into the warp point.

************

The systems that had been mapped were all resource rich. In fact, extremely so. Trillions upon trillions of credits worth of resources, now claimed under Federation and Imperial control, the commsats broadcasting the claim.

It had been a straight chain of uninhabited, dual warp pointed systems, all the way to here, though there had been a few surprises along the way.

For lack of better names, they named the systems after the Federation ships, in each case, the first one to jump, as they were the only ones truly conducive to naming star systems.

From Apache, they’d traveled to the Ranger System, a yellow dwarf, and then Samurai, a main sequence yellow star. Ninja had been next, a red giant helpful enough to have already broken up its planets into asteroids. From Ninja into Matrix they’d encountered a singular oddity, a ‘closed’ warp point, that on the Matrix end had no identifiable gravity signature.

This had caused some consternation among the travelers, but it had been decided, that since the drones had made it, the ships would too.

The lack of a star on the other end did not help matter any, either.

But the ships had found another warp point. And so onward they had gone. Jumping into the Rampage System. It was the only name for it. A trinary star system, with 14 solid planets, five asteroid belts and 5 gas giants.

And now Mercury. The latest system on their journey. A relatively normal planetary system, with a cool yellow star, and a perhaps once life bearing planet in the liquid water zone. Closer experimentation would be able to tell more, but it appeared to have been glassed from orbit nearly 10,000 years previous.

But now they waited for the results of the latest drone probe.

And they got them.

************

The drones came back mere minutes after they had departed. No more than fifteen.

Which wouldn’t have happened, except under a very specific circumstance: they had detected someone on the other side.

Status boards on all the ships lit up as the data flowed back. The warp point was another of the closed variety, within a light minute of the sun. Background radiation was of course severe, but what could be picked up told an ominous tale.

A heavily industrialized star system, protected by mammoth fortifications and what could only be a massive fleet presence.

But the identities were completely unknown, to every ship in the group.

And so, it was decided. To get a better look, the Federation warships would jump through, and immediately upon system stabilization, engage cloaking ECM. They would then prowl in as far as they could. If they were detected, they would attempt to make contact. The Apache would remain on the far side, ready to return to Mercury if things went sour, and get the science vessels the Hell out of there.

And so, off went the ships, slipping one by one into the unknown, nine explorers against the unbelievable immensity of what awaited them.

************

The ships burst one at a time into the system on the far side, and hopefully, their emissions were hidden against the sun’s flare as one by one, they slipped into cloak. And spreading into a loose linear formation, they speared their way inward, seeking knowledge.

Blindsided.

There was no way other way to describe it. It should have been impossible. Now somebody was insystem, and the didn't know where. They knew they were there though, by god, they did! They just had to find out where.

It had all been possible thanks to a very observant sensor operator, who'd called up her supervisor on a sensor ghost. The supervisor had had the sense to shunt it along to the biggest brain in the sector, Durandal himself.

Unfortunately for whoever the hell had jumped in system, they'd done it while Raider Fleet was in system. That meant two things, the first was that Commander His Grace Dysaryn Stark, Prince Celestian, The Twilight Knight, the single best combat commander in the Supremacy, was sitting pretty in his Dreadnought.

The second was that Farchakveltith David 'Mage' Richardson was insystem. That was why ten sleek shapes streaked through the void, cruising at fourty percent of the speed of light.

Mage eyed his instrument panel, his SF-29A Super Sabre's internal weapons compartments had been fitted with sensor suites for this op, and he was watching ghost blips. Watching for anything.

They had caught them when they entered, and Admiral Slink had drifted his destroyer and its corvette escorts into a blockade position without power. They had been shot off like unpowered rockets, using the massive electromagnetic accelerators used to give merchant craft that extra push.

Mage's ten fighter squadron was out here on patrol, as were the rest of Voltaire Squadrons. But his was the best. Raider Farchak Squadron clipped through the void, their SF-29 Sabres and SF-21 Valors were slower than the more common SF-39 Victor, but the elite pilots of the 'Black Magic' squadron didn't let that hinder them.

Mage frowned, as he saw a ghost blip on his screen. Mass Detector had spotted something. He flicked on his comm unit, "Warlock, you getting that?"

Lieutenant Jason Caine, Warlock, flicked his comm unit on, "Yeah, I see it. That means it's not a glitch. Still, could just be a sensor ghost."

Lieutenant Erik De'Valoran, Necromancer, flicked his comm unit on, "Doesn't matter, We still oughta check it out. I say we hit it. 'sides Mage, not like we got anything better to do."

Mage laughed, "Yeah, you're right. Alright boys and girls, sit down, strap in, and shut up. Lets kick it"

The ten strike fighters seemed to slide sideways in space as they corrected their courses. Their High Drives glowed faintly as they cut through void at ever increasing speeds. Full formation impulse was .56c, and they were approaching it swiftly.

Mage's SF-29A could hit .7c at full tactical impulse, but only for short periods. The inertial compensator just wasn't up to that kind of punishment, and it really was too bad.

Mage flicked on his mass tranceiver and sent a databurst back to the Voltaire.

"Farchak Actual to Raider Two, I say again, Farchak Actual to Raider Two. We have detected a possible bogey and are moving to investigate. Suggested course of action would be plot Battle Line intercept and execute. Mage Out."

It was impossible to avoid contact.

Even the pitiful sensors those fighters had to mount would cut through the stealth systems soon.

And so, the order went out.

Drop Cloak.

And the eight ships of the insystem group killing their cloaking ECM, drive fields running light, weapons powered down, active sensors offline.

They simply waited, ready to make contact.

This was not to say they were not battle ready. No, all the combat positions were manned, the ships at Red One.

But they made no aggressive moves, simply floating along at five percent of the speed of light, deeper in system.

And a single message speared out from the flagship, on all frequencies.

"Hello."

Commander His Grace Dysaryn Levan Blackstar-Stark, Prince Celestian, First Lord of the Revenian Star Navy, the Twilight Knight himself, stood straight on the bridge of the RNS Renegade.

The one kilometer long Fast Dreadnought had been moving at full tactical impulse for the last hour, and Raider Fleet's Battle Line was finally where it wanted to be.

Fanned out behind the Dreadnought was the rest of the Battle Line, Six Fallen class Battleships, and ten Slayer class Battlecruisers. Seventeen ovoid ships finally let their High Drives drop from the maximum safe speed.

"Sir, we've got an incoming transmission. All channels, audio only. Orders?" asked the Communications Officer, Ensign Peters.

Stark frowned, then nodded slowly, "Alright, Ensign, Let's hear it."

The ensign nodded, "Aye, Sir. Message Begins."

The transmission played, and Stark furrowed his brow. Very odd.

"Well, Ensign, cut me through. No encryption."

The ensign nodded slowly, "Aye Skip, You are live."

Dysaryn faced the vid-screen, those quicksilver eyes glinted, the strong lines of his youthful face, he didn't look to be more than twenty-seven, though he'd lived far longer than should have been possible, were accented somehow by the amused grin he wore.

From what could be seen on the display, he had a single platinum daggerstar on his lapel, and around his neck, hung from a black ribbon with silver piping, was a crystalline cross, filled with a bright red substance that could easily have been blood, and in fact, it was.

Dysaryn cleared his throat, and he spoke.

"This is Commander Dysaryn Stark of the Renegade, identify yourselves, Immediately. I further advise that you comply with further requests, as we will not hesitate to use force. Stark Out."

The transmission was cut, and Stark returned to his command chair, sat down, and waited. His eyes could barely contain the humor he felt.

The drive fields surrounding the eight ships died, and then, resparked to life, accelerating them slowly into a new positions, a new formation.

Active sensors awoke, though the 12th Space Battle Group knew they would not stand a chance, so offensive fire control stayed offline.

But the ship board defenses came to life, though little in the way of offensive emissions could or would be detected.

But one of the emissions came through clear and strong, on the channel of the unknown's reply.

A visual image, of a man dressed in a space black uniform, a single six pointed star on his collar, the image digitally altered at its source to show him as not in his skinsuit.

"Commodore Antoine Marshall, Commanding the 12th Space Battle Group of the Federation of Sentient Peoples Space Naval Forces. We're on a mission of exploration down a newly discover astrographic oddity, which our scientists have dubbed a 'warp point.' We're wondering, who might you be representing, Commander Stark? And also, where might we be?"

Commander Dysaryn Stark was deep in thought, staring at the holotank. The other groups were being very sneaky about their maneuvers, further, he had a hard time believing that many people would be scouting with what looked to be a full strength battle squadron.

Ensign Peters voice snapped him back to the present, "Sir, we've got an incoming transmission. Visuals this time, should I pipe it to your screen?"

Dysaryn nodded, "Yes, do that Ensign. Lets see what public face our friends put on."

His vidscreen flashed to life, and he smiled absently. So, they looked humanoid. Hmm, exploring warp points, scientists; wait a drekking minute there. Back up.

Exploring with a Battle Group?

That felt a little odd.

Dysaryn thought for a few minutes, well, maybe he should pull this one face to face, maybe not. Time would tell.

"Ensign, cut me through. Looks like we've got some questions to answer."

Peters nodded, "Aye, Skip. You're on."

Dysaryn straightened the collar of his uniform, and a hint of dry amusement colored his words.

"Welcome to Nexus, Commodore. Gateway to the Supremacy. Long way from home, with what you've confirmed to be a battle force, aren't you? Seems a little strange that a battle group could be spared to scout much of anything. Regardless, Commodore, I will expect you in one hour. Call it a mandated diplomatic conference. Stark Out."

The transmission cut with a flicker, and was channeled duly along to the FSP flagship. Dysaryn's Exec, Lieutenant Commandere Katryn De'Valoran eyed with a look of surprise, and more than a little fear.

"Sir, We only outnumber them by one ship, and sir, their flagships is damn near is as big as the Renegade, and the second largest ship is actually bigger than our Fallens. Sir, I hope you know what you're doing"

Dysaryn snickered absently as he slid out of his command chair.
"Don't worry, Katryn. I'm quite capable of taking care of myself. Hmm, this uniform is getting a little stiif. I think I'll change. Regals sound appropriate, you'll see to our guests when they arrive? I'll join them in my conference room."

He was gone before she could respond, and in his quarters within two minutes. He hastily removed his uniform, stripping down to the compression shorts that he habitually wore.

His steward, Victor Trant, held out his Dress Blacks. They were cut to fit him perfectly, and were actually more comfortable than his normal uniform. He sighed as he dressed, then Trant handed him the dress jacket, and he slid it on.

Black fabric, with silver piping down the trousers, and silver epaulets. His Guardian Cross sparkled from its place around his neck, and the fat ruby set in Heartsflame's pommel twinkled from where the hand-and-a-half sword hung from his left hip, set for a cross-body draw.

Victor attached the gloss black cape with it's silver stripe, and he filt the thin silver circlet come to rest on his brow. He took up his favored earring and spiked it into place. The silver net held a chunk of ebony captive.

The reassuring weight of both his lifelong companion, the blade at his side, and the archaic slug-thrower in its holster at his right hip, was all he needed. He sat down, and began to run through some paperwork. Plenty of time before his...guests...arrived.

The 12th crept closer to the unknown battle line, until it was within reasonable small craft range.

The Buffalo-class dropship soared outward from it's underbelly hanger, carrying the Commodore and two members of his 'staff.' One was the Blackstar's chief engineer, and the other was a gunnery sargarent from the Space Marine detachment aboard.

All three were in Dress Uniform, khaki peeking out from under the black, gold and silver shining appropriately.

Once docked in the boat bay, the Commodore, as was appropriate, given his senior rank, debarked first. Once clear of the dropship, he came to attention as he rumbled in his deep baritone. "Permission to come aboard?"

Lieutenant Commander Katryn De'Valoran stepped forward to meet the Commodore, and she stopped at the required distance, and saluted sharply.

She'd grown to be an expert at saluting, as the sheer amount of brass and peers of the realm that visited the Commander onboard his Dreadnought was, intimidating, to say the least.

As she dropped her hand, the drumming began, and Major Jennifer Rodriguez snapped out a command. The ten Twilight Seraphim in their immaculate ebony power armor came to attention, and she liked to believe they were there only as an honor guard.

The fact was, Commander Stark's personal elite Seraphim Division were not an honor guard, just as Commander Stark wasn't a diplomat. Of course, while Commander Stark may not be, His Grace, Prince Celestian, most certainly was.

"Permission Granted, Sir. Welcome aboard Renegade, I'm Lieutenant Commander Katryn De'Valoran, Commander Stark's Exec. If you and your staff would follow me, I'll take you to the Commander's Conference Room, where he will join you shortly."