NationStates Jolt Archive

This is a continuation of an event in Wall of Stars (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=91047)

The cruiser took the hits, seeming to come on even faster through them. As it's bulk filled the viewscreen of its target, the name plate Assisted Suicide came into focus, shortly before its prow bite into the battleship Danton's bulk. From deep within its cavernous interior, now devoid of anything but the AS system, Captian Katsuragi, standing stoicly on the bridge, the fold generator activates, warping time and space around it, and dragging its grappled victim with it. It contines to press fowards, hoping to get a second, just as the fold generator takes full effect, snapping both into every Takian sailor's nightmare. . . an unguided jump into the unknown.

Damage alarms screamed throughout the vessel, and Danton disappeared.
****
Then it reappeared. More alarms screamed as the inertial compensator began to be stressed, and the ship's computer put the impeller drives into automatic shutdown. The sounds of battle and the shuddering of the decks ceased, and several officers stared in confusion at Captain Douglas. The tactical holomap of the battle was blank, completely devoid of any icons, friendly and enemy alike. Captain Douglas walked over to his chair, and flipped on a visual display. The ships sensors began displaying a panoramic view around the vessel, it was sitting in the middle of farmland, but the images were at an angle. Douglas finally spoke, "I want a status report from every compartment."

After a few minutes, Commander Xavier, Danton's executive officer, reported. "All surviving compartments have checked in sir, we lost a few broadside weapons during the battle, most of our shield emitters are blown, and the last fourth of the ship is merged with the soil, not embedded, but merged."

Douglas hammered a fist onto his chairs armrest, "We'll hold funeral services later. Right now I want a recon drone launched."

A thunderclap sounded as the drone was launched from it's tube by a mass driver, then engaged it's impeller drives, speeding low over the terrain at supersonic speeds. It passed over dozens of kilometers of farmland, then found a city, performing a low pass over it, then over a few towns, before finally smashing into the ocean like a comet, spreading its component parts across ten square kilometers.

OOC: This is a closed RP until the Verniian crew, and whats left of the Takan crew take care of the immediate matters at hand, then its open to modern tech nations. The planet the ship is on is Earth, the time is before my government even existed, and the Danton is a Triumphant class battleship from my storefront, and its severely damaged.

Katsuragi opened his eyes, looking up at the main view screen from the deck of the bridge. To his left, half of the ship had vanished, and a wall of grass greeted him, still glistening from dew in the ships remaining lights.

"damage report" he said groggily, standing up, looking at the half viewscreen.

its not good a distorted voice said half of the Assisted Suicide is embedded in a planet surface. . . though thankfully it seems that the majority of the crew reached minium safe distance. A singular drop pod is on planet side, though my attempts to reach it are seemingly futile at this time. . . Sir, the ship we folded with is showing signs of life. . . orders?

"hail it" the captain says, straightening his uniform, recognizing the deep crimson stain of blood across it. He touches his head, feeling the slick warmth of blood. He wipes his hand off on a near by station and stands straight as the coms link clicks to life.

"This is Captain Katsuragi of the TSA Assisted Suicide. Your ship has been disabled, and you are unable to escape. At this time, you are prisoners of the Takian Space Armada, though considering that most likely at this time our nations do not exist, I would recomend we put aside our emnity and count ourselves to be luck to have not landed in deep space or a star."

Douglas listened to the Katsuragi's message, then turned to his sensor officer, "scan their ship." A few seconds later the officer reported, "They're in worse shape then we are Captain, looks like half the ship is in the soil, and they took a much worse beating then we did in the battle."

Douglas opened up a com-link back to the Takan cruiser, "This is Captain Douglas, CO of the Danton, I'm afraid that I must respectfully refuse to surrender to you, Captain. See, it appears that your vessel is in much worse shape than mine. So I suggest that you swallow your pride and surrender to me."

Katsuragi smiled.

"computer, weapons status?"

weapons batteries one through ten, port side, off line, weapons batteries one through nine, starboard side, off line, weapons battery ten, starboard side at 20% power and currently imerced in the ground. Lance batteries one through four off line, lance battery five at 50% power, lance batteries 6 and 7 at 90% power. Point defence systems at 30%, torpedeo room, starboard side imerced in soil, off line, torpedeo tubes, port side, online and ready to fire, though in atmosphere there is a good chance they would be marked as ICBM launches.

"Swivel lance batteries, target the enemy vessel and fire canon five"

The shot streaked out, exploding just above the top armor of the ship, shaking it as shrapnel digs into the hulling of the ship.

"I don't think so commander, but if you refuse to surrender, how about a temporary ceacefire between our ships, at least untill we are able to get back home? Or should I let the next one go through your armor, rather than using the underpowed cannon?"

"Bring port energy batteries online, target the enemy vesel."

Douglas reopened the comlink, "Well, since neither of us are willing to surrender, I will accept a temporary cease fire. I will allow you and some of your survivors to visit my ship under a flag of truce, to discuss our situation."

Katsuragi nodded, closing the com's link. He looked at the ship's dimming lights.

"Computer, nearest unblocked exit."

that would be through engeneering, dirrectly below you, mind you Captain, I only have enough back up power to remain active for anouther hour and a half, so you would do well to hurry.

the captian walked from the bridge, heading towards his personal cabin, thankfully above ground, and grabbed a few of his personal affects. Stuffing them into his shoreleave bag. He changed quickly, cleaning himelf off as best he could, before putting on the blue and silver dress uniform of the Takian Space Armada.

"computer" he said, a thought entering his mind. "how are the cargo bays?"

cargo bay is half filled, however there shoudl be something salvagable in there. It is an exit as well, however is out of your way and I may not be able to keep gravity on that long.

"Its a risk I'm going to have to take" he said, hurrying down the hall way, taking the emergancy exits towards the cavernous cargo bay at the tail end of the ship. He arrived just as energy failed, the artificial gravity dying and sending him falling towards the ground. He landed on his feet, as the entire payload crashed down to its new ground. A light tank rolled before coming to a bouncing halt, and Admiral Katsuragi smiled, stepping behind the wheel of the massive vehicle. He gunned the engines and drove towards the downed Vernii craft. In the distance, the white and blue glint of a downed escape pod caught his eye, and Katsuragi drove up to it, greeted by five men dressed in Marine uniforms. He stepped out and saluted, the five men looking as if they had gone through hell and back.

"where are the rest of your group?" he askes to the largets man, a seven foot tall giant, bearing a crystal sword insignia of the Imperial guard.

"Dead, Admiral" he said forcing open the weapon locker of his craft, depositing a small armory into the back of the Raider.

"We hit pretty hard when you folded, the AS system just compeltly lost it and we slammed home. . . thank Taka we survived." He nods to each of the men, four humans and a reptilian being, one of the Squallem, rightly feared for thier hand to hand fighting finess. Katsuragi motioned for them to join him, still dressed in their armored space suits.

They drove for a while, before approaching the Vernii craft, burried deeply into the ground.

"oh this looks promising" the Guardsman says, scanning it with his gunner's console. "Only thing we need now is the militia of this backwards nation to come galoping to protect the citizens from we alien invaders. . ."

OOC: This RP is now open to modern tech nations.

"Here they come. Open up one of the hangar doors, assemble two squads of marines to meet them. I'll be in the officer's mess."

Douglas stepped out of the bridge, and the doors to Boat Bay Three slowly opened. Commander Xavier and 24 marines in combat armor waited to meet the Takans.

The light tank drove up to the Cargo bay, the Comander and the five surviving marines stepping out, armed with katanas salvaged from the wreck site. Ceramonialy, the Comander stepped foward, the Imperial Guardsman looming over his left side.

"Who is in charge here?" he askes, scanning for any semblance of a dress uniform.

"I am Commander Xavier, executive officer. I assume you are Captain Katsuragi? If you and your men will follow me, I will take you to see Captain Douglas."

Katsuragi and his men followed, keeping a close eye on the XO's men, hoping to avoid comflict, but prepared should conflict come to them.

Xavier leads the group through several hallways, passing several crewmen who press up against the walls to give the oncoming group more room, and into a lift car. He punches in his destination after the doors close, and the car hurtles through the transit tube with barely noticeable acceleration. A few seconds later the doors open, and the group is led through several more hallways, and finally to a door labeled "Officers Mess". The sentry standing guard next to it salutes, and Xavier holds open the door, "After you, gentlemen."

The Captian steps in, taking in the room as he and his men strode towards the seated Vernii captian. Katsuragi took his seat, flanked on his left by the seven foot tall Guardsman, and on his right by the reptilian Squallem. The other three marines stood behind the first row, silently standing at attention.

"Good day, Captain, I greet you as one warrior to anouther." he says, extending his right hand, palm up.

Xavier sits down next to Douglas. "Welcome Captain." Douglas says, as a cook comes in and puts a coffee cup and saucer in front of each person, along with some milk and sugar. The cups each have the crest of Danton painted on their sides. "Do you drink coffee? If not I'm sure there is something you'd enjoy in our inventory. Anyway, on to business. It's rather obvious to us that your FTL system is what got us into this mess, so how about we start with you telling us how exactly it works?"

"I'm afriad that the exact workings are classified, and only really understood by the techs on our ship, all of whom escaped before we folded. What I do know, is that it works on the Ngyenian timespace theorum, which dictates that an infinatly large amount of space is held in an infanatly small point of time, and that if we can reach a point where we are infanatly small, we can move instantly anywhere in time or space. . . in theory we could move between dimentions, or even up and down between realities. . . in the Shintoist belife, the home of the Gods or the home of the devils, or in the Christian mythos, Heaven and Hell. . . though no one who has folded into one of those levels has ever returned. I'm sorry to break this to you and your men. . . but its not only a question of where we are, but a question of when we are. . . or even if we are."

He takes the cup towards him "do you have tea? I would ask for Takian Silver, but I doubt you would carry it. . . " he looks hopefully at the cook, before his eyes trace back to the captian.

"Ah, where was I? yes, you see, its possible that we are in a world where your nation never existed, and never will. . . and its entirly possible, that my nation never existed, and never will. . . " he paused, letting it sink it.

Hakiar was repairing one of the many detectors scattered about the top of the Fourteenth Post Of Watchfulness, on the eastern border of Khrrck.

Suddenly, he glanced up.
What was that? I could have sworn...

He glanced over at the racks and shelves of equipment.
Much of it was labeled with mundane things like "Radar" and "Earthquake Sensors", although here and there were labels such as "KASS Dampers" and "Background Thaumaturgy".

Hakiar had just enough time to see the gauges on the rack labeled "Spatial Disturbance" wobble before it exploded in a shower of glass and metal.

Hakiar had just enough time to dig his claws into the wooden floor and brace himself before the explosion hit.

Shards of glass and metal ricocheted off his scales.
Hakiar felt something screech along his right shoulder, moments before a chunk of glass slammed into his side. A few more bits of metal pattered past.

After he had got his breath back, Hakiar surveyed the damage. Several racks of equipment had been damaged by the blast, and the walls were studded with bits of shattered detector.

Makala, the communications officer, clattered up the steps from below.
"Message from Post Thirteen! Their-"
She stopped in mid-sentence , as she saw the damage.
"Spatial disturbance meter has exploded?" said Hakiar, finishing Makala's sentence. "Not suprised. Here, help me with this-"

Together, they cleared the wreckage from where the meter had stood.
In a small cavity, where the exact center of the detector once was, they discovered the Klein bottle that had formed the heart of the detector, and a sheet of metal.

Hakiar eyed the Klein bottle. "Looks... bent. And it's pointing northeast."
He lifted the sheet out of the wreckage, and examined it carefully. "And this looks like a topo map. It's even got glass shards for trees."

Makala looked at the objects. "I'd better tell HQ about this."
"Sure. I'll tell the survey crew. Maybe they can match this sheet with something on their maps."

Makala clambered down from the observation level, and dashed off towards the optical relay, pausing briefly to tell the base medic what had happened. "You'd better see to Hakiar. He at least got bruised in the explosion, and I don't know what else."

Makala stopped at the relay controls and jacked the input cable into her toolpack.

PRIORITY MESSAGE, she sent, watching the screens for a response. URGENT. CONNECT WITH HQ. URGENT.
MESSAGE RECEIVED. CONFIRM PRIORITY. LINKING HQ RELAY.
SPATIAL DETECTOR EXPLODED. DEBRIS MAY INDICATE DISTURBANCE CAME NORTHEAST. REQUEST ADVICE.
The reply came back almost instantly.
CONFIRMED. SCRAMBLE ALL. DISPATCH NE. SEARCH FOR SOURCE.
MORE?
MAINTAIN CAUTION. NO ATTACK WITHOUT REASON. SENDING BLUDGEONS & DIPLO TEAM. MESSAGE ENDS.

Fifteen minutes later, a pair of Turbo Spitfires launched themselves from the woods and sped off towards the crash site, their turboprop engines droning loudly.

"....oh." Douglas leaned back into his seat. The cook breaks the silence. "No, I'm afraid we don't have any Takian Silver. If you would like I could go look through my pantry to see what teas we do have though."
Douglas speaks again. "Well then what do you propose we do Captain? And what state is your ship in? Ours is combat capable, excepting weapons we lost in battle. We can't go anywhere of course, and our shield emitters are blown."

The room's communication system crackled to life. "Captain, we are picking up a couple of contacts on passive sensors. They appear to be heading our way, I'd guess the locals are finally sending someone out."

"Bring our point defence lasers online, but don't fire yet. Let's see if their hostile first."

"My ship, Hah, you would have better luck building anouther one. . . I know enough about fold drivers that I could operate it manualy, and thats our only option seeing as how my ship is on emergancy power unless we can get the fusion generator online. Though I wouldn't recomend going back onboard the ship untill we have a chance to excavate it. . . it's going to treat the surrounding area as a hostile planet untill the AS can be reactivated, and we can't do that untill we can get into the maintenance hatches on the underbelly. . . I'm afraid we are going to be here a while. . . unless of course our natives happen to speak Common or Takian and have reached a technological level high enough to allow large earth movers. . . thats a kilometer long ship burried in the ground there. . . its not going to be an easy task to move it. . ."

he suddenly looks to the Squallem, the lizard creature siting stoicly beside him.

"I belive it may be wise to hide our non-terran comrades. . . don't want to scare the natives any more than we already have."

"Sir, message from our comrades in space."
"What do they want?"
"They say that there should be a ship crashed nearby. Near Khrrck territory."
"Get a Knight ready."
"Yes, sir."

The major gets his combat gear, and runs out to meet the Super Sea Knight and its occupants on the wind and snow-swept landing pad. The helicopter, labeled CRASH INVESTIGATION, takes off, headed towards the coordinates given by the resident frigate. After several hours, they reach the crash area.

"There it is! There it is! Put down over there!"

The Sea Knight sets down in a cluster of wheat, and the troops pile out.

"So, this is it. You two, go find the nearest entrance."
"Unidentified ships, what is your nationality, over?"

I don't want to interrupt or anything, but I have an idea to do in this RP and I need to know if it would be all right if you would let me use a space vessel from a future time. And do something with it here. If not, it's ok. I'm just iching to get in and use my idea.

((OOC: LRR, the ships have crash landed on earth, 1630 years before the war ever started. . . you are welcome to play, but you won't know what the hell you are looking at when you get there, the nation of Taka doesn't exist, though the Mizunian Dynasy exists, its still a good 20 years before they put their first manned spacecraft in orbit, hence the title "lost in space/time"))

"Fire a warning shot."

A single PD laser turned in its turret toward the advancing troops. An underpowered laser shot from it, sweeping across the ground in front of them. The wheat caught fire as it was touched, and a small ditch was left by its passing.

A single transmission was sent to the helicopter. "Return to the helicopter and remain there for now. A representative will be sent out in a few minutes. We mean you no harm, but then again we can't have you traipsing all over the hull of this ship."

OOC: Lacrowa, telegram me with a more detailed explanation of your idea.

"Ah! take cover!"

The troops run back to the helicopter and hide.

Katsuragi watches as the LRR unit runs back to the helicopters, eyes wideing slightly as he notes the type of helicopter.

"Gentlemen, I'm afraid we may be having a bit of a problem . . . My history may be a bit rusty. . . but that helicoptor hasn't been used in about 1600 years. . . meaning that my nation won't be founded untill the Mizunian Split, 1570 years from now, and I doubt that your nation would belive you if you waltzed in and told them you were from the future. . . I think it would be best if we came up with a cover story that would be belivable. . . and leave off the being lost in time part. . . "

Katsuragi watches as the LRR unit runs back to the helicopters, eyes wideing slightly as he notes the type of helicopter.

"Gentlemen, I'm afraid we may be having a bit of a problem . . . My history may be a bit rusty. . . but that helicoptor hasn't been used in about 1600 years. . . meaning that my nation won't be founded untill the Mizunian Split, 1570 years from now, and I doubt that your nation would belive you if you waltzed in and told them you were from the future. . . I think it would be best if we came up with a cover story that would be belivable. . . and leave off the being lost in time part. . . "

OCC: If he were really sharp, he would note that the helicopter bears the pre-space insignia of the LRRN/LRRSF.......

It's me Lacrowa. The name you see now is what it should have been. Lacrowa is my brothers nation and i though i was on mine. I sent a telegram to you Taka. Sorry for interrupting!

[OOC: Just so you know, words in italics are NOT spoken in English, and it's not anything you'd have in a language library...]

The pilot of the Scout-Model Turbo Spitfire gazed out towards the horizon, watching for any unusual signs.

Suddenly, he saw something. "Ye gods! It's a bloody spaceship!" he shouted into the radio.
The radio cracked and buzzed. "Have a care for my eardrums, please. And scan it."

The pilot sent commands racing through the intricate maze of detection equipment packed into the aircraft. The Vernii ship was probed with radar, photographed, and IR cameras peered at the hull with interest.

Meanwhile, the other pilot hailed the ship, in a blurred, synthesized voice.
"Greetings. May I ask what the hell you're doing here?"

The planes raced on, waiting for a reply.

"Sssir, incoming radio transssmisssionsss" the Squallem hissed, "Though I can't make out what they are sssaying. . . unknown language." Katsuragi nodded as the synthetic voice came over his personal comms device, looking at the Vernii Captain. He hessitated for a moment before picking it up and replying in English.

"We have come in peace. . . our ships have suffered sever damage durring battle and have crashed here. We request an audience with your Prince or Emperor, or the highest officer of your nation's government. I am Comander Katsuragi of the Takian Vessel Assisted Suicide, with me is Comander Douglas of the Vessel your craft is scanning. We mean you no harm, and request your aid in returning our craft to the heavens."

"What are they saying?" asked the scout's pilot.
"They want to talk to our leader."
The pilot snorted derisively.
"Leader. Heh. You sure it wasn't 'government'?"
"No, they definitely specified 'Leader'."

The second aircraft replied again.
"You can't talk with our leader. First, I don't have the authority, and second, we have none."
The second aircraft started circling the area, searching for a place to land.
"I'm going to come in for a landing. Please stay out of the way."

The Turbo Spitfire, having spotted a likely-looking patch of ground, dropped to a few feet above the ground.
The pilot yanked his nose up, stalling the aircraft, which dropped nearly vertically to the ground, and bounced along slightly on its oversized tires.
The aircraft came to rest about 200 feet from the captains, and its propeller came slowly to a stop.


The Turbo Spitfire looks like a typical WWII-era fighter, at least at first glance. On second glance, you notice the turboprop engine. On third glance, you notice the weird-looking cannons with flattened barrels. On fourth glance, you notice the racks of nasty-looking missiles...You get the idea.


The Scout-Model Turbo Spitfire stopped circling the Vernii vessel, and moved on to scan the Taka vessel.

((OOC: The Vernii vessel is the Danton, and its where both captians are right now, the Assisted Suicide is the Takian Vessle, lying on its side, halfway phased into the ground, and its empty, about 24 miles to the south of the Danton.))

As the scanners penetrated the Assisted suicide's hull, the AS system kicked back to life, her systems running diagnostics and bringing PD systems online. Empty of any life, she started scanning the exterior for whatever could have roused her from her sleep. Her sensors detected the incoming aircraft and she hailed, sending a wide band signal.

unidentified aircraft, you are entering proximity of a Takian military vessel. . . turn back or you will be fired upon. This is your only warning.

She locked onto the incoming craft, making damned sure that the pilot was aware of the fact. Her AA guns warmed up, while the doors on her missile pods slid open, exposing the waiting missiles to the warm morning air.

I hope you aren't stupid she said to the incoming aircraft I may be half burried on your god forsaken planet, but I'm not going to hesitate to fire if you don't turn back. . . you have five seconds to change course.

On the sidways deck the holograph of the Assisted Suicide's artificial sentience program stood, calculating time untill the most effective firing situation could be achieved with its damaged gunmounts.

The aircraft's pilot was puzzled by the Takan vessel's hail. He couldn't make any sense of it. Then, his computer notified him of the vessel's weapons lock.
What the hell? They're going to shoot me!

He slammed the throttle to maximum, injected a shot of booster fluid into the engine, and fired each of his eight missiles at a AA gun, all within the space of a few seconds.

"No, don't!" yelled the pilot of the second aircraft. "They- ah, shkak. Get out of there! I'll try to explain!"

The scout aircraft slammed into a twelve-G turn no propeller aircraft (or pilot) should be capable of, and screamed off away from the Takan vessel.

Her eyes widened as her sensors detected the incoming missiles. She threw out her arms, the AA guns kicking into action as they fired their own AA missiles, and filled the air with laser fire. A single missile slammed into a missile pod, exploding and sending shrapnel across the hull of the ship. Minor damage, nothing more than an inconvienece normaly, but in the ship's shape, the Assisted Suicide was now without AA missiles, and down to five working guns.

son of an agrol whore she breathed Come back here so I can gut you like the honorless pig you are! You facking coward, fight like a man! her voice grew in volume over the radio, digressing to a stream of Takian curses so vial, Katsuragi closed his eyes in embarassment, shutting off his coms device with the ship.

"She won't listen now. . . just be thankful she needs me on the ship to authorize the use of fusion torpedeos, or our guests would be missing several large cities right now"

[OOC: The TDG Ripper disc gun has a penetration (in this area) of approximately twenty-four inches of steel.]

"What was it saying?" asked the scout's pilot.
The English-speaking pilot translated, absentmindedly.
"WHAT?" yelled the other pilot. "THAT'S IT! HOW DARE THEY-"
"Calm down, calm down! There must be some mistake! Their captain-"
"I DON'T CARE!"
"Hello? Hello? Shkak! Post 14, we have a situation here..."

The scout made another gut-wrenching turn, dived to strafing altitude, and screamed towards the Taka ship, dodging in a frantic, random fashion.

"HAVE YOU GOT YOUR RADIO ON, WP14-2? STOP IMMEDIATELY!" someone yelled, in a transmission from Watch Post 14.
"I take no responsibility for my comrade's actions!" yelled the English-speaking pilot in his synthesized voice. "He is not in a rational state!"

The scout opened up at about a half-mile away, spewing razor-edged, enchanted discs, which left a trail of green flame and a vicious ripping noise in the air as they flew.

(I was told by Taka this was taking place around 3500 AD so I take it I can have some sort of space going fleet. And that's kind of what I plan to do.)

Was it possible? Lieutenant Kyle Cavin had been scanning the surface of a country down on Earth. He had been doing this for quite a while now and was wondering if what he saw was a mistake. Nope, he could clearly see the shapes of two large vessels. The construction of them was more unique and more advance looking than any of the ships currently in the Amidonian Space Fleet. Maybe some form of cruiser perhaps. But there were no reports of another fleet passing through. And one of them was imbedded in the ground.

Taking that this must be of some importance he turned to the admiral. "Admiral sir, I've picked up a pair of warships down on the surface of Earth. They appear advance and one of them is partially in the ground."

Admiral Correa turned and looked down at where Lieutenant Cavin was sitting. Finally something more exciting than just circling the planet. "Do you see any movement down there?"

"Now I do sir, it appears a plane of some sort is trying get a closer look at it too. Wait a minute, It's flying away at a pretty fast speed, it just launched some missiles at it."

This was very interesting, he hadn't heard about any other warships being around at the time. Admiral Correa turned to the view screen in front of him. "JADE, give me a visual of these two vessels."

The ships AI did as it was told and an image of two large ships crashed into the surface of the planet could be seen.

"JADE, could you prepare a message. I want to send my hellos to those on board those two ships."

"Yes sir, preparing message...message ready."

Admiral Correa began to speak. "This is Admiral Correa onboard Amidonian flagship Parathon. State your business. I want to know why you are here and what has happened to your ships? Please reply or a search team will be sent down to investigate."

He stopped and stared back up at the view screen.
"JADE, you can send the message now."
"Yes sir."

Back at Post Fourteen...

Makala switched her microphone off and cursed roundly.
"It's no use." she said to Hakiar, who was nearby. "He's got his radio off. When's the copter going to get here?"
Hakiar eyed his radar display. "I'd say... about thirty seconds from now."
A sonic boom shook the room, making the windows rattle.
"And that's the Bludgeons arriving. Come on, let's get going."

They both rushed off towards the exit, Hakiar limping slightly due to a freshly welded cut on his right front leg.

Outside, a large, twin-rotor transport helicopter was descending onto the runway. It was painted in black, grey, and gold, like the Turbo Spitfires were, and seemed to be in rather bad repair.

Hakiar eyed the clanking helicopter uneasily. "I always wonder if these things will crash... here goes." He clambered aboard, followed shortly by Makala.

The helicopter took off slowly, and rose to join the circling fighters.

The Bludgeons were pitch-black, with a single flame painted on the nose. They seemed to be much more modern than the Turbo Spitfires, with a intimidating array of missiles, and engines that seemed much too large for their size.

The helicopter and the four Bludgeons took off towards the crash site, at a rather fast, though still subsonic, pace.

"Captain, if you will excuse me for a moment I must go to the bridge, I shall return as soon as possible." Douglas stepped out of the room, leaving behind Xavier to act as host. Xavier stares at the door for a second, then takes a sip of coffee. "So, what's the weather in Taka like this time of year?"

It took Douglas one minute to get to the bridge, and he entered a realm of noise and light. "Report?"

Several officers immediately started to report, but the tactical officer spoke first. "The takan cruiser is under attack by one of the fighters. It's defending itself but not at optimal capability. We have a firing solution upon the attacking fighter sir, if you wish to engage it."

"....do it. Now is that helicopter still out there?"

"Yes sir, I think its afraid to move, since we have two PD lasers pointed right at it."

"Alright, send a marine in power armor out there to collect whoever is in charge of it."

"Incoming transmission sir!" the communications officer reported.
"Play it."

Douglas listened as the Amidonian admiral's message was played through the bridge speakers. "Arg, more attention. Send this reply: This is the battleship Danton of the People's Navy of Vernii. We have suffered a misjump. End transmission."
*****
A hatch opened up four meters off the ground on the hull of the battleship, and a single bulky figure leapt out, dropping to the ground in a crouch. He got up and bounded over the terrain to the helicopter, clad in a metallic armor, his face completely obscured by his helmet. He turned on his suit's internal loudspeaker, and yelled "I have instructions to bring the senior officer of this group inside."

Overhead, on the dorsal surface of the battleship, a PD laser swiveled smoothly in it's turret, and a brilliant white beam shot from it toward the fighter.

OOC: The laser is a lightspeed weapon, which means that the only warning you have is it hitting you (unless you have FTL sensors, in which case it still doesn't matter, since this is pretty close range).

The Vernii ship's laser sliced solidly through the aircraft's left wing.

The airplane jerked, wobbled, and held steady for a moment until the wing couldn't stand the stress anymore and fell off. The aircraft went into a uncontrolled left-hand roll, scraped along the Taka vessel's hull, and slammed into the ground with a sickening thud.

Something inside the hopelessly mangled engine compartment spat a fountain of rainbow-coloured sparks fifty feet into the air, accompanied by a small explosion.

The plane wasn't too heavily damaged, due to the low altitude it was flying at, but it'll definitely never fly again.

"What a great way to start negotiations." muttered the other pilot into his microphone, after a long, stunned pause. "I hope you've got medics on that transport copter."

"You're in luck. We do." answered the helicopter, now visible on the horizon. "We should arrive in a few minutes. Get out of that plane and do your best to explain things."
"Alright. I'm coming over, just a moment."

The remaining Spitfire's canopy hinged open. Something long, black and reptilian dropped into the wheat-field and started making its way over, its passage marked by rustling grain.

((OOC: accualy the war was in 3500 ad, and the ships folded to about 1970 ad. You can have a space fleet here, but bare in mind that you would likely be observing the planet, not wanting to make contact with them for fear of a military responce against you.))

The disks hit the ship, digging 16 inches through the combi-armor, managing to mearly infuriate the AS system further. PD systems fired at the craft, hoping to bring it down once and for all. At the side of the ship, the massive torpedeo tubes slid open, a few surviving scatter missiles loaded into it.

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

Katsuragi nodded as the captian stood to leave, leaning back in his seat, he turned towards Xavier, caught off guard by the questions.

"The flowers will be blooming at the Mizu Temple about now, the mornings will be chilly, damp, but the days will warm up and leave us with the scent of lilacs and cherry blossoms in my home town."

the cook entered, setting a cup of tea before him, which he picked up and sipped.

"Not Takian Silver tea, but not bad." he lifts the tea, inhaling deeply the aroma from the steaming cup.

"So tell me about Vernii" he says absently "you must love it greatly to fight so desprately for it."


He turns to the Imperial Guardsman as an after thought pointing to the marines behind him.

"Captian, would you be so kind as to escort the landed pilot in? I belive we should speak with him while the Captain of this vessel is dealing with the aftermath of his. . . compatriot's. . . attack. Meanwhile, you *he points to the Squallem* get a link up with the Assisted Suicide and make sure that she doesn't finish the pilot off."

The Squallem grunted something in his language before standing and saluting, tracing out with the rest of the squad.

Out in the open, the Imperial guardsman strode foward into the field, moving towards the pilot, while his men followed close behind him. Still dressed in their armored space suits, the three marines scanned the area with full sensor sweeps, pinpointing the creature and moving towards him, while the Guardsman, in his uniform, lead the group foward.


http://www.gamerankings.com/screens4/561353/7.jpg
Marines in Armored Space Suits

http://www.gamerankings.com/screens4/561353/1.jpg
Marine boarding party

[OOC: Ooh, pictures of plastic Space Marines. :P
All footnotes are OOC.]

Seeing the PD turrets turning to track him, the scout's pilot slapped the release lever for the canopy. The canopy refused to budge.
Swearing, he braced himself and shoved. The canopy still refused to move. The impact had jammed it into the rest of the aircraft.

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

The pilot's reptilian head poked out of the wheat-field.
"Ah, there you are. It's hard to navigate down here."
He looked around for a moment, then dropped back down.
"Let me get to a clear area, OK? I can't see in all this."

The pilot's trail takes off towards a recently-harvested area of the field, about twenty feet away.

When he reaches the cleared area, he can be seen to be about eight feet long. About half of it is thick, heavy-looking tail.
He's quadrupedal, with black scales, and large claws that look like they were made of steel*.

He has what is definitely a speaker grille implanted in his short, thick neck, and is wearing what looks like a cross between a aluminum backpack and a mechanical spider. Four thin robotic arms are attached to a central casing, which is festooned with cables, hatches, and various welded patches. The whole assemblage is strapped onto his back with wide, black straps.

He nods at the Guardsman.
"So... I'm Arak Blueflame. And you are?"
His synthesized voice obviously comes from the speaker grille, as his mouth was shut when he said that.

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

The four Bludgeons changed course and started to accelerate towards the Assisted Suicide, leaving the helicopter behind.

The transport helicopter hailed the vessel.
"I'd suggest you don't shoot. First of all, we're merely rescuing our downed pilot. Secondly, while that armor of yours is impressive, I seriously doubt it would stand up to a KASS missile."
The voice from the transport helicopter is more human-sounding than Arak's, though still obviously synthesized.

The Bludgeons started to circle the Taka vessel at a distance of about two miles, while the helicopter came in for a landing near the downed aircraft.

----------------------------------
*Footnote: They are.

((OOC: I accualy had a rendered picture of the same guys, but I can't find the blasted thing now *grumble grumble*))

IC:

The leader, a seven foot tall giant of a man, nodded towards the newcomer.

"I am Captian Borealis of the Takian Imperial Guard, serial number N04123150032. The men behind me are members of the Takian Space Marines, Sgt Yamamoto, Private Akii, and Private Shinta. If you will come with us Mr. Blueflame, we will take you to our ship. . . though if we had known your people were akin to the Squallem we would have sent Corporal Gnkst *he utters a harsh, guttorial grunt, half between a serpants hiss and the sound of heaving bile.*. . . though we all just call him Gunny."

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

The AS system's voice came over the helicoptor's radio, evident agitation in the way she spoke.

"Listen you primative screwheads, that bastard fired on me, I've got every right in the world to turn him into a puddle of slag, and if you try and stop me then I swear before the Emperor's throne I'll turn your precious landscape to a barren wasteland. . . and don't think that I won't. . ."

"Ignore that. . ." Katsuragi said, his transmission cutting off the AS systems ranting "Erika is a little upset at her current situation, no hard feelings I hope. . . my name is Captian Katsuragi, the voice you just heard belongs to my ship, the Assisted Suicide's computer system."

[OOC: Taka, do you possess Microsoft Word, Outlook, Outlook Express, or any other program that will do spelling checks?]

"Gnkst..." mutters Arak. "Strange name."
He looks up. "Alright. First, I'd be happy to come to your ship, though I doubt I'll be needed."
One of the arms on his back unfolds and points in the direction of the helicopter, then refolds.

"Second, "Blueflame" isn't a family name, it's a clan title. Clan titles usually have something to do with the clan's physical characteristics."

He looks off towards the Vernii vessel. "That's your ship, I presume?"
Without waiting for a reply, he takes off towards the ship.

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

The helicopter pauses to drop off a pair of copper-scaled medics, (who immediately start cutting the crashed pilot free) and lifts off again with a thunder of rotors.

"Greetings, Katsuragi. This is Makala Steelfang, from the Fourteenth Post of Watchfulness. We'll be over there in a moment. And Erika has every right to insult that pilot."
The helicopter turned and started off towards the location of the two captains.

The four Bludgeons pulled out of their circle and followed the helicopter.

Xavier takes a sip of his coffee, "Vernii isn't really all that nice of a planet. It's orbital radius is slightly larger than Earth's, and its tropical regions are a lot smaller. It's mostly a temperate climate, although winters can be somewhat nasty. It's my home though, so that's why I joined the fleet."

***

Douglas grimaced as he watched the visual sensors display the reptilian creature striding toward his ship. "Great, non-humans. Send a squad out to escort him in."

*********************
You Okay?
*********************

The two medics finished cutting the debris away and bent the canopy out of the way. "You okay?"
The pilot groaned. "I think I've bent some bones."

**********************
Needs Repair
**********************

The helicopter dropped to the ground near the Vernii ship.
Bits of internal machinery clanked and squealed ominously as its rotors wound down to a stop.

((OOC: *grumbles* apparently the last post I had for this thread was eaten by the forums. . . in responce to your question, no I do not, as my computer recently had a physical memory wipe when I was installing some new hardware. A good portion of my .dll files were completly wiped *as in, my OS refuses to belive they ever existed, wiped* and the spellchecker's dictionary was one of those library files that no longer exists. I'm working on getting an install disk to get it back, but so far, no luck as the person I got it from orriginaly is MIA. Sorry for the inconvinence, as I know its a pain in the ass, but I'm doing the best I can to make it at least legible.))

"Just don't tell him that, Arak, the Squallem are well known for being very tempermental. That, is a Vernii battleship, our ship is being shot at by your friend. . . and I can assure you, Erika will not be happy about it."

He matches pace with the pilot, a bit uncomfortable around the xenoform.

"So why do they call your clan the Blueflame?" he askes, striking up casual conversation as they re-enter the field.

(OOC: Ha...Ramadoon's fashionably late as usual in such interesting events, but hopefully it won't be much of a nuisance. :lol:

A little background history on the nation. Back in the mid-50's, Ramadoon's economic and political development was similar to post-WWII Japan. After a civil war spanning 3 years, the Royal Family was stripped of its governmental powers and became a ceremonial gig. A parliamentary system was set up, and soon foreign military contractors were hired to supply the flourishing country with weapons. By the 70's Ramadoon began to overshadow other nations in terms of power, wealth, and technology. In fact, the period between the 70's and 90's was dubbed the "Second Renaissance" when a boom in the defense market resulted in the technological leaps and bounds Ramadoon has achieved in the present day [solar travel, the famed Crystal City, advanced energy-based weapons, etc.] But assuming that this occurred in the early years of the 1970's, the country will use the latest U.S. weapons from that era, with the addition of a few prototypes and homegrown equipment.)

Staff Sgt. Elisa MacLeod was bolting full speed towards the Field Marshall's office carrying a red folder emblazoned with Ramadoon's imperial seal. They contained LMSAT images of the crashed ship near their borders, as well as the international "welcoming" committee converging in on the find...

Field Marshall Raymond Davis quietly reviewed the blueprints for Ramadoon's prototype units...For years, they had been buying modified versions of United States equipment, but as the country began to outpace its supplier in terms of technology, a shift was bound to occur. He grimaced as he heard the door slam open as MacLeod burst through.

"Have you ever heard of knocking, Staff Sargeant?"

She cleared her throat, stood at attention, and saluted. "My apologies, sir, but this just came in from the satellite feed." Elisa opened the folder and emptied its contents atop the blueprints Davis had been studying.

"A UFO?"

"We believe it might be one."

"And the surrounding uni--"

"...From the Krrck and LRR. By the looks of it, something's been shot down over here." Elisa stabbed at the picture, pointing at the debris embedded onto the ground. "Looks to be Krrck. See the insignia?"

"Clear as crystal..." Davis mumbled. Thank God for Ramadoonian technology... "Send a few F-14's to show our presence. No weapons. We mean no harm."

Elisa looked at him quizzically, with her brows furrowed and nose scrunched.

"With all due respect, sir...I don't think they speak English if they are alien."

The FM chuckled a bit. "Ha...Get our poindexters to work on that. Some sort of logarithmical mumbo jumbo might work."

----------------
The five Tomcats tore across the clouds at up to speeds of Mach 2, producing a loud sonic boom within its wake. They lowered their altitude and did a quick fly-by across the crashed ship, its pilots studying any weak spots, weapons platforms--anything that would be useful, God forbid they're anything but friendly.

"Eagle One, ready to transmit. Welcome to Earth. We come in peace." The rest of the squadron laughed nervously.

The "mumbo jumbo" mathematical language was sent out, containing a brief history on the country, and a message stating Ramadoon's peaceful intentions towards the unknown beings.

"HQ, it's in the mailbox. Letter is in the mailbox."

"Roger that, Eagle One. Proceed to vector two-five-oh and circle."

"Roger that."

The F-14's began to fly around the crash site to survey the damage...

There is a pause for a moment before a woman's voice replies in perfect english

"wait. . . did you just say we are back on earth. . . We've returned to the cestpool of humanity!?"

Erika stands wide eyed on the bridge of the Assisted Suicide, her mind absorbing the information being streamed into her databanks in a strange encryption.

"I should have known it" she say in Takian, the same exact atmosphere, the same gravitational pull, the same size. . . but earth. . . this can't be earth, its too clean, too pure. . . its like it was. . . " her voice trails off as Katsuragi cuts in.

"yes yes, we come in peace, just dropped in due to a mis-jump accualy. . . um, I suppose I'm supposed to say something akin to Take me to your leader now. . . though if you could put me in contact with someone who can dig up my ship and knows enough about singularity physics to help me get our fold generator online, I'd be much appreciative. . ." He lays down the coms link, forgetting to turn it off. Rubbing his foreheads he broadcasts "figures, I finaly get my own ship and the computer has a grudge against earth, a terminal case of PMS and a noted lack of discression in her transmisions. . ."

((OOC: Takian is an evolved form of Japanese. If and of your people speak a language from Asia, then they will be able to have a conversation, albeit not a fluid one, with a native speaker of Takanese))

OOC: This is what the Danton looks like.
http://img24.photobucket.com/albums/v73/Jadeite/battleship.jpg

It masses 18 million tons, and is 2,500 meters long. Currently the aft 1/4 of it is merged with the ground, and the rest is jutting out of the land at a 45 degree angle.

IC: Douglas watched as new signatures appeared on the bridge holomap, and he had to resist the urge to give his point defence officer free reign as the new contacts began circling his ship. "Broadcast this on whatever radio frequency they are using: This is Captain Douglas, commanding officer of the battleship Danton, of the People's Republic of Vernii. We arrived here by accident and mean you no harm."

Vernii's message was transmitted to the pilots as clear as the day's blue sky, and the squadron was surprised that the ship's captain spoke English. No alien accent, no grammatical error...just...English.

The transmission was suddenly flooded with surprised voices, each tackling to solve the mystery of the English-speaking "aliens".
"Holy sh*t! They don't speak Martian!"
"Vernii??? Did they just say they were from Vernii?"
"Yeah. I've never heard of--"
"Me neither..."
"No harm, huh? Those look like weapons platforms to me..."
"Alright boys, we did our job. Uplinking message...Command, this is Eagle One. First contact has been made."
"Acknowledged...Return to base."
"Roger that."

The Tomcats made their final pass, about a hundred meters above the ship's surface this time, before breaking off at what seemed to be the "bridge"--a raised structure with what looked to be a communications platform. They shot up straight into the sky, wings folded back.


------
Hours later, the same squadron emerged, albeit flying much more slowly to keep pace with an additional craft--a C-130 Herclues loaded with Ramadoon's top scientific minds; among them was Thomas Larkov, a top military physicist working on the country's most top secret projects: orbital weapons, time jumps, interstellar travel, and whatever else the top brass had seen in Star Wars. An additional C-130 trailed behind, carrying 64 Elite Guards wearing prototypical armor. Most carried the standard issue M-16, while a lucky fifteen were given the opportunity to "field test" the new P4A2 pulse rifles. Unlike the traditional projectile weapon, it uses caseless ammunition propelled by a gel/electric system; the rear tip of each round was coated with a gel that, when electrified by a pulse of energy, changes into a highly excited gaseous state that would be the "explosive" charge. This resulted in a weapon that had significantly less recoil, no visible muzzle flash, and able to be used in zero-g vacuums and underwater environments. Unfortunately, there was a tendency for it to jam, as the firing mechanism was not perfected yet.

Eagle Squadron broke off the formation as the two transports lowered their gears and made their descent upon a relatively flat meadow adjacent to the wreckage, sending up dirt into the air once the wheels tilled the soil. The C-130s ground up against the soft earth and slowly rattled to a stop...

"Captian" Erika said across an open channel "I'm picking up incoming heading this way. . . it looks as if we've attracted more than a few interlopers. . . permission to open fire? I've got tubes loaded for fusion torpedeo launch, and I've targeted the five nearest cities. . . we should be able to bloody them with a full out assualt, at least enough for us. . ."

"Erika! I'm trying to get us home. . . erm, our home. . . you know what I mean, I'm not going to be responcible for a full scale war caused by a psychotic starship!"

"but. . . Captain. . . " her voice rises in a whine "I wanna fire these fusion torps. . . I never get to fire the fusions, you always have me use the scatters, or the snowballs, I wanna kill something!"

"No Erika, ask again and I'll have you unplugged and install that generic AI system in your place. . . got it?"

"Aye captian. . . " the holograph sat on the bridge sulking as she started the long process of preping the ship's systems, running diagnostics on every aspect. A shower of sparks catches her attention and she notes that the interior defences are still online and in place, though her control over them is sluggish at best, non-existant at worse.

"Captian" she says again, speaking in english this time,

"defences are online, and I can't bring them down, you'll need to power them down one by one through the service hatch on the bottom of the hull."

One of the medics checked over the downed pilot, while the other continued to pry wreckage out of the way.
"I'm afraid you're right. You've bent six ribs, your right front leg, and some tailbones. I think I can fix the leg enough for you to walk, but you'll have to get to a medical center for the rest."

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

Arak chuckled; an odd sound, but recognizable. "I saw him while I was passing over. I don't think an angry Squallem would give me much trouble."
He pauses as he forges through a particularly dense clump of grain.
"As for the clan name; I'd love to demonstrate, but we're in a wheat-field, and it looks rather flammable."
He stands up on his hind legs, bracing himself with his tail, and spots the Vernii squad.
"I guess those are Vernii troops, huh? Hello over there!"

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

The Bludgeons circled around the helicopter's landing site, engines screaming.
"What were those?" asked one pilot, over a open channel.
The pilot of the oldest and most battered Bludgeon turned to his flight computer.
"Elara, what were those?"
"They look like F-14s, but they may have some differences. I couldn't get a good look. If you would get closer-"
"They might think I'm going to attack."

He turned back to his radio.
"Elara says they're F-14s. Should I hail them?"
"Good idea, but check with Makala first."
"It's OK with me." answered Makala, from the helicopter. "Go ahead."
The first pilot hailed the F-14s in his synthesized English. "Unidentified F-14s, what is your nationality?"

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

The helicopter's door ground open a few inches.
"Shkak!" muttered someone inside.
The door rang like a gong as someone dealt it a hefty blow from the inside, and ground open a few more feet.
Another one of the creatures, with coppery scales this time, squeezed under the half-open door and gave it a yank, as whoever was on the inside hit it again.
The door jerked, groaned, and ground open the rest of the way.

"ah, so you are like an Avian then?" the guardsman asks, being rewarded with a silencing motion from one of his marine bretheren

"I don't think calling him an Avian is the best of ideas. . . we might be back on earth, but I'm pretty sure they would be about as insulted as if you said that to Gunny. . ."

"Oh" he says, turning back to the creature's path infront of him.

"I'm sorry, I'm really not good with all these social nuances, I wasn't programed for etiquate after all." he says almost appologeticly.

[OOC: He's a robot? *boggles*]

Arak blinks. "No, I'm not a bird. Whatever gave you that idea?"

((OOC: Close enough, he's completly biological, but he was "built" geneticly, and his programing was in the form of subcontious learning dirrectly downloaded into his brain at "birth", as were all othere members of the elite and very small Imperial Guard.))

One of the marines turns and looks at Arak, a puzzled face hidden by his helmet.

"oh. . . no no, the Avian is a creature in Alpha Centauri, its akin to what earth legend refers to as dragons, we brought them over from the Mizunian Empire when we left earth. . ." he says, a harsh glance from the Guardsman silences him.

"I think the Captian is going to have to explain a lot to you. . . I don't reall understand it myself" the marine says, finding his voice again.

[OOC: Now, did the Guardsman say that, or did the Marine say that?]

Arak stops and peers at the squad. "You're confusing me more by the second."
He starts off again, talking as he goes.
"As for being like a dragon... Not really. Dragons have wings. And they've got flame hot enough to melt rock. At least, our records say they do."

He grins, exposing a formidable array of very sharp teeth. "As for me, even if I had wings, I couldn't fly. And I simply burn a mixture of alcohol and hydrocarbons, which isn't nearly enough to burn rocks."

He pauses for a moment, then continues.
"Plus, I seriously doubt that your 'Avians' spent five hundred years on a planet with three Gs of gravity. And before you ask if we have space travel, we don't. We ended up there by mistake, and in the course of trying to get home via Gate ended up here."

"And." he adds, almost as an afterthought. "Physics is a bit wonky around here. I suspect that's why you ended up here. Don't be suprised if someone mentions magic, though it's not too effective around here."

"well, not exactly, accualy our Avians were either on ea . . ." he looks at the guardsman before stepping ahead of the others and turning down his coms link.

"Look, I'm not supposed to be telling you this, but I was born on earth. . . I only left because my family was banished following the Mizunian split. . . but this. . . this can't be earth, its too green. . . its like the stories my grandparents used to tell of the old days. . . but what do you mean by, physics is a bit wonky. . .?"

*Unidentified F-14s, what is your nationality?*

After a brief pause came the reply:

"Do not open fire. We are a peacekeeping squadron sent by the government of Ramadoon to escort our...rescue...personell. I repeat, do not engage. We are unarmed. Any perceived threat posed to our forces will be seen as an act of war."

With the transmission complete, Eagle Squadron hit their afterburners and disappeared into the clouds.

-------

FM Davis sat amongst the military brass within the hallowed halls of Crystal City's military substation, a sprawling complex one mile beneath the crystal skyscrapers that gave the city its name. On the viewscreen sat the Prime Minister who's imposing figure was magnified by his visage looking down on the generals surrounding the table.

"What's the situation, Davis?"

"First contact has been made, Mr. Prime Minister. They're friendly and they speak our lang--"

"Friendly?"

"Yes, sir, friendly. They haven't fired upon our troops yet, but if they try..." Davis trailed off for a second as he hypothesized different scenarios--a possible war against an advanced foe would not bode well for the up-and-coming nation. "That's not what's bothering me though, Mr. Prime Minister. It's the fact that they know English. It's..."

"Logical? We did send out probes, didn't we?"

"Well...yes. But the thing is, our message wasn't written in English. R&D thought it would be better to communicate to alien life forms via mathematical equations--the same way we talked to them today."

"Great. If they can speak our language, see if we can do anything to help them out. Maybe they'll give us some advanced tech that'll help us move away from being so dependent on the U.S..."

"That's what the scientific team is for, sir."

"Now that that's resolved, how's the situation in Caligatio...?"

-------

Meanwhile, the C-130's that had just landed near the Vernii ship unloaded its human cargo. Whilst the Elite Guards had donned protective armor that was impervious to most biological and radioactive attacks, the scientists were dressed in the usual orange hazmat jumpsuit. Along with the others, Larkov began probing the surrounding area for any harmful substances--whether or not there were any, they weren't going to risk contracting some alien virus that the scanners couldn't pick up by shedding the rather bulky attire.

Trailed by five Elite Guards, Larkov and the scientists proceeded to jam every sensor and probe they had into the cracks of the ship's outer hull but none could identify the substances which composed the tough exterior. Drilling with crystal bits proved fruitless as well--they had barely punched through a millimeter before each gave in and broke...

Larkov turned to his colleague, Dr. Irene Price. "Tell the other to stop. I don't think we even have the proper equipment to analyze this." As he finished his sentence, he noticed what seemd to be...an airlock? With the help of an Elite Guard, he pried it open revealing only darkness from within. With flashlight in hand he peered into the opening and bellowed as loud as he could:

"Hello? Anyone in there?"

Gunny peaked from the top of the ship, looking with disdain at the newcommers.

"Thissss isss a ssstarssship!" he hissed menacingly "do not try and take our ride home apart!"

he lept from the top of the craft, landing gracefully after a 100 foot drop on all fours. A massive and gleaming kris blade made of solid crystal clanked across his dull armor as he turned a red scaled reptilian head towards the scientists, a forked tounge sliding out, tasting their fear.

"The captain will ssssee you now" he hissed, effecting a bow, his prehensile tail whipping behind him. He stands and moves towards the ship's open docking bay, turning to summon the scientists with a wave of his hand.

Douglas stared in disbelief as the visual display as the newest arrivals tried to drill into his ship. Those impudent little...who the hell do they think they are, drilling into MY ship? He turned to the nearest officer, "Go stop them, and bring their leaders inside!"
*****

The doors of Boat Bay Three again ground open, revealing a row of parked vessels the size of a modern day space shuttle (the ship's pinnaces). 24 Marines clad in power armor and carrying pulser rifles jumped out of it onto the ground, led by a lieutenant, wearing the silver and black uniform of the People's Navy. The group strode toward the scientists examining the hull, and the officer called out "You there! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

OOC: Everyone on my ship is human, and the officer is recognizable as one.

Larkov almost cracked his cranium as he almost jumped up from the bellowing voices.

"Oh Jesus Christ! You're human?!"

The doctor stood there agape, allowing for Price to answer their question for him.

"Dr. Larkov means to say that we didn't realize there were actually humanoids in this ship...and reptiles." She nodded at Gunny, who seemed ready to disembowel them. A quick hand signal the their armed escorts caused them to lower their weapons and stand straight at attention. "They are...our guards. In case you lied about being friendly. As for the drilling, we were trying to get a sample of the hull to be analyzed, so we can determine where you actually come from. Not that it did us any good. We couldn't even make a pock mark on them."

The physicist finally came out of his trance and mustered up the courage to ask his question. "Why...why are you human? Have you shapeshifted into our form so as to better communicate with us? Are you the master race? Have you come to survey your descendants?" He lowered his voice, almost hissing at the Takian and Vernii. "Are you from the future?"

"Oh don't mind Dr. Larkov...he's a bit...eccentric."

"No I'm not! If these beings have found some way to travel faster than light...or perhaps open up a wormhole..."

Irene tugged at his shoulder and angrily pulled him aside. Through clenched teeth, she chastised her own superior. "Are you crazy?! You're basically telling them what we've been testing in the labs!"

"Ahh...right, right."

"Nothing more about time travel."

"Right, right."

Irene turned to the Vernii troops. "Are those energy-based weapons, by any chance...?"

Gunny stands stone still, arms crossed infront of his armor. He begins to utter a series of grunts and hisses, the Oni language, before switching back over to english.

"I'm not a reptile, thank you very much. . . I'm a Sssquallem, though damn the Agrol who gave usss that name. . . Now I would much appressssiate it if you would sssimply. . ."

"come in." a cheery voice says, Captain Katsuragi says, stepping foward. His uniform is reminicant of the Japanese naval uniforms used durring WWII, and his face has distinct asian charicteristics, though his eyes are abnormaly large and his skin slightly pale. "come in, oh take off those infernal scrub suits, you can survive here, this atmosphere has been cleaned by the best Vernii technology, which I'm sure is up to par with Takian technology. . ."

he shoots a sideways glance at the Vernii captian, before continuing "but it should be fine. . . and yes accualy, these gentlmen are Terrans, and I'm mostly human, though I've a trace of Agrol blood in me. Come in, come in, we'll explain it over something to eat. . . Gunny, would you mind running to the bridge and informing the Captain Douglas that our. . . friends. . . are inside?"

The Squallem bows, his arm crossing his chest and his balled fist coming to rest on his opposite shoulder. He rises and quickly trots off further into the ship.

"I'm sure you noted the other ship here, that would be mine, the kaishaku. . . oh, forgive me, I keep forgetting you don't speak enough Takian or its Terran counterpart to understand. . . the Assisted Suicide. Now I'm sure you have a lot of questions for us, and I'm afraid I only caught a bit of what Doctor Larkov was saying. . . something about. . . time travel?" his eyes darken as he says the last phrase, locking eyes with Irene. His gaze seems to delve into her soul, as he beings to psychicly probe her mind for memories that come to the surface. Unable to do more, he contents himself with what he can stir to the top.

(OOC: Taka, most of the scientists present, Larkov and Price included, work for the military. The mission they have been ordered to undertake includes the permanent disabling of the ship and a thorough analysis of technology which can possibly be incorporated into the Ramadoonian military...With the exception of Dr. Larkov and a few others, they would probably be willing to aid you in your return. On the other hand, Dr. Price is young and ambitious, and as most people who have the same traits, plans to uphold her task any way she can.

As for her involvement with Larkov's time travel project, it was a "failed" attempt. They actually created a rip in the time space continuum and opened up a wormhole on the dark side of the moon. There was never any archaeological evidence (both on Earth and the lunar surface) that the test subjet's ever went back in time, so either they were dead or were sent to the future instead. Her fiancee was part of the group, and she vowed to someday destroy Larkov's career and discredit him as a lunatic.

Pics of the two characters:
Dr. Larkov
http://www.digikitten.com/playhousev2/files/LtNathanWest/Woodard.jpg


Dr. Price
http://www.digikitten.com/playhousev2/files/LtNathanWest/brooke.jpg)


The scientists proceeded to remove their hoods, some wiping the sweat which had accrued from prolonged use of the hazmat suits.

Dr. Price spoke in a friendly manner to the Takian, trying to set up a friendly atmosphere between the two parties. "Yes, our government was working on a...a time machine, if you will. We were able to harness a small wormhole and 'send' subjects to a specific time period. Not to an exact date, mind you, but pretty close. The only problem was that--"

Larkov suddenly cut her off. "...We could only send an object forward in time..."

Price's eyes welled up. She didn't like talking about how things went wrong. All she wanted to do was scream at Larkov and tell the Takian it was all his fault--a grave miscalculation that cost the life of her love and five of her colleagues.

Choking back the tears, she managed to keep her composure as they followed the Takians into the craft's innards...

Katsuragi breaks away his gaze, his mind flooded with the woman's pain.

A zen mind. . . he thought to himself, I must control emotion

"Yes, I can see how that would be a problem when you need to return your brave vollenteers home. . . it would be a tragic loss indeed. Our nation has toyed with the idea of time travel before. . . in fact the entire reason we are here. . ." he mentaly curses himself for his slip, but picks up without only a single lost beat in the conversation "was due to a mis-jump though space and time on behalf of my ship. . . you may find this a bit difficult to belive, but Vernii and Taka are currently at war, lightyears from here. Though neither of our ships are in any possition to fight now, my ship was in the process of ramming the Dalton when our fold drives activated, sending us both here." He looks at Dr. Larkov a moment "and no, we don't use worm holes to travel, as they are generaly too small for the larger craft. . . instead we use an artificial quantum singularity to fold the ship under realspace, and then unfold it back on real space, anywhere in the universe. . ."

he reaches the Officer's mess, sliding open the door and allowing them to enter first before sitting opposite them at a nearby table.

"I'm sure you are both eager to get your hands on the secrets hidden in the Kaishaku's computer systems, but I'm afraid that will not be possible. . . as an officer in the Takian Space Armada, it is my duty to assure that my ship does not fall into the wrong hands. . . knowledge is power you know, and the knowlege in that ship could cause untold damage to the time. . . excuse me" he forces a smile "all your talk on time travel has my mind wandering, this world is not ready for that kind of power. . . I've studied the history of this world, you are nearly as steeped in blood as the Takian empire, yet without the firm dicipline that allows us to weild such power. . . that and if you were to enter my ship right now you would be torn apart by interior static defences, not to mention that my ship's computer system is. . . well to put it blunty, she is rather bitchy about being embedded in your planet rather than in high orbit where she belongs."

"Well, around here it's not too serious." explains Arak. "You get the occasional probability storm, weird apparitions... that's usually it. There's enough background magic for KASS missiles to work, and for a few tricks, but not enough for anything major."
He looks up. "Looks like we've reached the ship."

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

"Come on, let's get moving."
Makala started towards the opening in the Vernii ship's hull.

She's shorter than Arak; about seven feet long, with copper-coloured scales and claws. Her pack has only two arms; the right-side arms have been replaced by a pair of machine guns.

Hakiar dropped out of the helicopter behind her and hurried to catch up.

He's about the same size as Arak; he's black, with steely claws, and has a runic symbol inlaid in silver over his left eye. His pack has three arms, and a rack of what look rather like grenades.

Finally, Akram clambered out of the helicopter.

He's intimidatingly large; almost ten feet. He's black with steel claws, with a different symbol inlaid over his left eye in gold. He has no pack or speaker grille; instead, he's wearing a pair of scabbards.

Akram's scabbards are almost five feet long. The hilt protruding from the left-hand scabbard is red leather, with a reddish gem set into it, and the one on the right is black leather, with a plain pommel. The scabbards are slightly curved.

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

The Bludgeons stop circling and start pulling away, back towards Khrrck.
The helicopter, having unloaded its occupants, takes off and follows them.

(OOC: Just out of curiosity, Taka, where do you look up the background info on time travel? I'm asking because most of what I said are...well, half-truths.)

Larkov's ears perked up once he heard the phrase "quantum singularity". His mind raced from one idea to the other as he began to inquire about time travel, paradoxes, and the absurd--the the similarities between Katsuragi's uniform and its Japanese WWII-era counterpart.

"You mean to tell me that you've developed a ship capable of withstanding a black hole?! That's impossible!" A short pause. "Well, obviously not to you, but still! The implications of time travel...Does it mean that everything you do here was destined to transpire in the first place? Or do your actions create some sort of parallel world instead...? The grandfather clause...And why are you wearing that silly old uniform? Oh my, I think I've gone cross-eyed." He continued to ramble about event horizons and what have you, at which point none of his colleagues could even comprehend his incoherent ranting.

Irene kept to herself. If these beings could travel through time, could they have ever come upon Paul's crew? How could she ask without sounding like she had any emotional attachment to the project? Would that even matter if the Takian had already noticed her slight loss of nerve minutes ago?

In a nonchalant and hushed tone, she finally mustered up the courage to ask Katsuragi. "Excuse me umm..." What was his name? How could she forget so quickly? He seems like the commanding type...Maybe admiral?..."Admiral, has your civilization by any chance happened to stumble upon a mid-20th century vessel within the vicinity of Earth's moon...?"

One of the marines answers the question about his pulser rifle, "No, it just fires a 5 millimeter dart, at about 2100 meters per second. We do have some energy weapons, but mostly projectiles." The marines and lieutenant follow the group inside the ship.

The inside of the Danton resembles most warships, crewmen are moving through the corridors in a hurry, and some of the lights are flickering.

The lieutenant leads the groups to the Officer's Mess, and motions for everyone to take a seat.

A few minutes later Captain Douglas entered the room, also wearing the silver and black uniform of the People's Navy, and carrying a peaked cap under one arm, the badge on it is an Iron Cross, surrounded by laurel. He takes his seat, starting to take a sip of his coffee from before, then realized its cold. He motions to the steward to get him a new cup, "Would anyone else like anything? We have all sorts of coffee and tea. Anyway, what nations do you represent, and what are your missions?"

Deated do to double post.

Since Dr. Price and Larkov were now busy discussing the concepts of time-travel with Katsuragi, circumstances elected Col. James O'Neill the new dignitary. A war hero noted for his courageous actions during the Royal Wars, he quickly moved up the ranks. Always righteous and charismatic, he was a great leader and a moral human being, but a terrible diplomat.


"Nice ship...But enough chit chat. Let's cut to the chase shall we?"

He tossed a datapad at Douglas containing information of Ramadoon's plan to detonate an EMP over the ship if the visitors weren't "complacent."

"See that? Electro-magnetic pulse. I'm sure you probably know what that is. My government wants me to set that device off if you don't give us anything in return for our 'help'. By that I mean the exchange of technology." He shook his head. "A bloody batch of fools. They always underestimate what we're up against--almost cost us the Royal Wars when our Field Marshall sent my goddamn convoy through--" A short pause. He hated it when he went off on a tangent...


"Anyway, I'm giving these to you because I want no part of it. You seem like a couple of friendly chaps, and I'm willing to bet you aren't going to blow us to kingdom come. So if you have anything that can disable the EMP satellites, it would be a wise move to put them to good use. It is currently in a geosynchronous orbit right above us, and the telemetry of its location is in that datapad. Pinpoint the bastard and get rid of it."


None of the soldiers nearby who had heard the conversation usurped the authority of their leader. They were too dumbfounded from seeing him disregard orders and jeopardizing their mission...

((OOC: I'm not sure exactly what you mean by that, but if you mean time travel in general, mostly I'm working on the Sci Fi principle of "it makes for a good story, stop asking questions." My understanding on time travel is fairly limited, mostly steming from Einsteinian relativity physics.))

"oh, no no, our ship can't survive exposure to a black hole, its more along the lines of folding space around us into a gravity spike, and unfolding using anouther gravity well. . . As for time travel, it is generaly frowned upon, and rarely if ever done on purpous, simply because of the dangers invovled. . . every action has a reaction that changed this time stream's future, if I were to kill my grand father, then I would never have been born. . . I would not ceace to exist because in my past, my grandfather was not killed, yet in this future, I never would have been born. Its more or less useless to travel back in time, as you can not change your past, simply the present you find yourself in. . . and if you go to the future to return with knowledge, then you come back and change your present, meaning that the future you went to never happened. He clears his throat, looking back at Larkov. "Captian, good Doctor, or if you must use rank, Commander Katsuragi, I'm not an Admiral yet, and I'm afraid we haven't seen any ships that match that description durring our journeys. . . though do not give up hope, our nation rarely ventures to earth, so that does not mean they aren't there."

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

"Welcome to the Dalton, Arak, I take it that those are your friends?" The guardsman says, pointing towards the newcomers.

"do come in, I'm sure we have many things to discuss."

Douglas scanned the information, thinking to himself. With our shields down, they could actually disable us!

"Thank you Colonel, you have done us a great service."

He hands the telepad to Xavier, then whispers an order in his ear. Xavier then leaves the room for the bridge.
*****
A few minutes later the doors to one of the ships missile tubes opened, and the sky lit up with a flash. A single impeller missile launched, hurled out of the tube by an internal mass driver at over at a few dozen kilometers per second. It didn't bother activating it's internal impeller drive, the target was close enough. It streaked up into orbit, finally activating its impeller nodes to decelerate, and detonated a hundred kilometers from the satellite, exploding in a shower of bomb-pumped lasers.

OOC: My missiles use a gravitic tech, max velocity before their propulsion system gives out is about 25% of light speed. They typically detonate at 20,000 km from their targets, and that can be extremely deadly to capital ships.

Arak nods. "You could call them that. The two in front are officers at my base, though I don't know who the third one is."

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

Off near the horizon, the Bludgeons were having a argument.
"Look. I don't care what you think, but I saw something."
"What did it look like?"
"Couldn't tell. It was moving too- Ye gods!"

Groups of small, grey fighters started popping from behind hills, followed by some large, intimidating fighter-bombers.

"Full alert, everyone. I've got twelve Songbirds and three Novas, incoming."
"Whose?"
"Ironscale, by the paint jobs."

A quiet, hissing voice cut across the chatter.
"This is what you get for not inviting us to the party."
It cut off, equally quickly.

"What are they trying to pull? They're not going to take down that ship..."
"Incoming! KASS signatures! Evasive-"
"Everyone, full throttle! Maybe we can get to a comm relay before they kill us!"

A missile slammed into one of the Bludgeons' wings, causing it to mysteriously disappear with a loud bang.

"They got Three!"
"Damn them, curse them, rust them..."
"I'm dead. Goodbye, everyon-"

The transport helicopter exploded in spectacular fashion.

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

Malaka ran over to Arak and the Marines, moving suprisingly fast for something so large.
"We need to get inside. The Ironscales are attacking, since-"
"No time for explanations." rumbled Akram. "Get to the door."
"Alright." answered Arak. "Let's go."
The four of them sprinted for the pinnace bay and the shelter it provided.

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

"I've got three on my tail! Help, someone!"
"I'm coming, Two!"

The oldest and most battered Bludgeon racked through a fifteen-G corkscrew that ought to have killed its pilot, and raked one of the Songbirds with green flame.
Unfortunately, it didn't see the Nova coming up behind it.
A missile clipped its wingtip and it went into a wild tumble.

"I'm hit! Elara, transfer to Two's plane-"
"This is Mincer Two! We are under attack. I count twenty Songbirds and four Novas, Ironscale clan. Send help-"
"Dalton, we need help."

High-speed data sleeted through the air as the scene dissolved into chaos.

OOC: I'll post later when I have time, but its Danton, not Dalton. I've counted it misspelled three times so far.

"You planned what?!" The Prime Minister's booming exclamation blew out half the speakers within the war room. Sparks flew as the generals covered themselves from the shower of lights; some had managed to set off small fires which were quickly stomped out.

Davis began his stuttering reply, trying to explain his actions.

"Well...well sir, umm...The EMP, the EMP...It was a precautionary..." He glared at the others in the table, who simply lowered their heads as he locked eyes with them. "You said yourself that we should try to obtain some of their technology. Our EMP would've acted as leverage, but--"

The PM suddenly cut him off, his voice calm now--most likely due to the fact that most of the speakers were shot. "That was a secondary objective! Our main priority here is to aid these beings return to their home; our nation wouldn't stand a hell's chance if they call for backup now!"

"Well, they're actually English-speaking humanoids--from the future, at any rate."

The silence was almost deafening...The military brass had played out that scenario hundreds of times on the simulations, and everything went according to plan; the EMP would be set off, the ship disabled, the crew imprisoned, and the functional pieces of the ship reverse engineered. But nobody even considered that one of their own would betray them.

Finally, a lone figure stood up. Air Chief Marshall Jacob Winters turned on the projector behind the desk, across from the PM's viewscreen. The satellite images of a Khrrck splinter cell invading the craft's airspace could be clearly made out.

"Mr. Prime Minister, this was taken minutes ago by one of LMMSAT's. They appear to be from the Ironscale Clan."

"And what do you propose to do?"

"A diplomatic solution to this mess, sir..."


----------
Off the carriers RRS Justice and RRS Javelin, squadrons of F-14's were launched, all armed to the teeth with a full complement of missiles, sans the air-to-ground JDAMs. They met up with F-15's sporting the same armament style which were launched via air bases closest to the crash site. Within minutes, they were a hundred klicks from their main objective.

"Command to White Knight, do you copy?"

"Acknowledged, Command. Ready to beam our transmission."

From satellites overviewing the impending battle, Ramadoon's message of regret and apology, written by the PM himself, were sent to the flight leader, which in turn, transmitted to the ship.

"Command, White Knight has sent the message."

"Confirmed, White Knight. Proceed."

"You heard 'im boys. Weapons hot and under the radar."

The swarm of fighters readied their attack, dropping to an altitude where radar would barely pick them up. Each of the craft armed its missiles, ready to fire at a moment's notice...

The remaining ninteen Songbirds regrouped with the four Novas, ignoring the one remaining Bludgeon drifting off to the west.

The rearmost Nova, its bay packed with exotic detection and scanning instruments, started picking up the incoming aircraft.
"Incoming, Leader. F-14s, F-15s. Can't tell how many, they're too confused. Sensor out."
"Alright. Leave the spacecraft for now, and call for backup. This is not what we were expecting."
"Done."
"Good. I've rigged a pair of Scattershots. I want you to make every missile count. Remember, they can't pull as many Gs as we can, so use that to your advantage. Sensor, I want you to cross-link with Magic. Try and rig up a few suprises for them. Leader out."

As the Khrrck aircraft shifted into a bewildering, dodging pattern of movements, small green lights appeared amid the confusion; the armed crystal warheads of KASS* missiles.

"Magic to Leader. This place is overdue for a probability storm. I could set one off, but it might kill us as well as them. I could try to jam their guidance systems, though."
"Do it."
"Sensor to Leader. We're in firing range."
"Fire!"

Each of the remaining Songbirds fired off a pair of KASS missiles.

*[OOC: A KASS missile's thaumaturgical warhead knocks a 12' by 12' by 12' area of space out of alignment with the rest of the universe, causing its contents to drop into a pocket universe. The resulting vacuum causes a loud noise and plenty of turbulence, as well.

Terribly destructive, yes, but not too much use against large targets, such as ships. It's pretty much the ultimate anti-tank weapon, though.

The high magic levels around the warhead interfere with sensitive electronics, meaning that their guidance systems aren't perfect.

The warhead also gives off a fair amount of heat, which means that they're all radar-guided.]

(OOC: I had at first thought that this thread would be technology-based, Khrrck, but I won't be a whiny b*tch and complain that I don't have any magic in my arsenal :lol:. Since you said it was mostly effective against ground-based weapons, I will allow some casualties to be incurred. BTW, numbers are as follows: 150 F-14's [75 from each carrier] and 50 F-15's.

I want to say that a major part of our military personell, aside from the civial aspects of it, are trained from birth to be combat-ready [ala Ender's Game]. But would that be considered modding???)

"Command to squadrons! Increase altitude immediately!"

Most of the pilots reacted almost instinctively to the sudden order to disengage from radar evasion, while a few waited a few seconds for clarification--a fatal mistake which would claim 23 of the 200 fighters. Some were too close to the ground when the KASS misiles hit, causing 13 of them to spin out into the voids below. The rest of those affected by the resulting from the missile's wake either spun out of control and rammed their jets into the ground, or worse, crashed into one of their own.

"Bishop to Knight, they took out the 27th, the 319th, and a few elements of the 51st! Suggest we break formation and--did...did you notice that?"

"Yeah, I know. Our radar's jammed."

Another voice cut in, this time from Squadron Leader Tiberius "Ty" McQueen. When he spoke, everyone listened--and with good reason--McQueen led the Angry Angels, Ramadoon's elite squadron who were credited with almost 120 kills in the Royal Wars. This unique 8-man team had their F-15's painted black with the logo emblazoned proudly on the right side of the cockpit.

"Your AIM-54's shouldn't need a radar lock against these guys. Look at their pattern. Criss-cross, right, up, left, repeat. Target their clusters five moves early and the multiple warheads will do the work for you."

"Not a bad idea, old man..." A few chuckles from the rest of the crew. Ty was not amused.

"I know it isn't, and don't ever call me an old man again....Now arm up and fire on my mark." McQueen studied the patterns for any change until he was satisfied to begin his countdown.
"3."
"2."
"1..."
"Mark!"

In unison, the F-14's situated at the fronf ot the phalanx responded by releasing their salvo of AIM-54 Phoenix missiles, all containing multiple warheads which would detonate their payload via proximity fuses. The swarm would reach their targets in about a few seconds.

"Switch to 20mm. Spread out and randomize your formations. Change every five seconds."

A mix of joyous shouts and grumbles of grievances followed.
"Whoo-whee! Looks like we're gonna dish it out the old-fashioned way!"
"Yeah, I haven't had this much fun since the training!"
"I don't even remember using the 20 in the simulator."

Again, McQueen's authoritive voice cut in on the transmissions.
"Quit the chatter. Target a plane and have your wingman cover your arse."

The second phase of McQueen's plan came into effect. The mix of air warriors shifted randomly in the air--a few close calls here and there--but all were pretty much in tune with their aircraft.

Point defence computers began assigning threat values to the incoming missiles fired by the Ironscales aircraft, and the PD systems came online through computer override. Thirty laser turrets revolved in their mountings toward the enemy craft, opening fire on both incoming missiles and enemy aircraft. Counter-missiles hurtled out of their tubes, activating their impeller systems, and streaking toward the enemy craft at several hundred kilometers per second.


OOC: Lasers travel at speed of light of course. Counter-missiles generate a gravitic field about 125 km square, that vaporizes missiles that hit it, usually destroying the CM in the process. I'm using these against the aircraft though, and the impeller field is turned down in power, so its only maybe a one square kilometer area of effect. Its necessary because having something moving that fast with that much atmosphere displacement and gravitic disturbance would do Bad Things to the surrounding land.

[OOC: Words like this:
Leader: Fire!
are encrypted binary data packets.]

That happened rather fast. Let's go through it again, slowly.

First, the lasers took out about half of the fighters. Then, the countermissiles vaporized most of the remaining fighters, and the Ramadoon missiles took out a few more.

All that remained was a Nova and a Songbird, battered and scorched from the explosions.

Barbarian Wrecker: I don't believe this.
Barbarian Three: I'm outta here.

The Songbird pulled into a turn and began running away as fast as it could.

Barbarian Three: Base, it's hopeless. Do not launch any more attacks. I repeat, do not attack! It's suicide!

Barbarian Wrecker: Deserter! I'm going to finish this...

The Nova slammed into a wild corkscrew that threw it into the midst of the Angry Angels.
Then it set off every bomb in its bay, turning into a rapidly expanding ball of white-hot shrapnel and superheated gas, interspersed with secondary blasts as its ammo capacitors went off in showers of rainbow-colored sparks.

McQueen screamed the order seconds before the fighter got too near to set off its payload. "Incoming! Peel out!"

The F-15's in the squadron did as told, all except for two. The two positioned at the tail elevated their pitch to intentionally meet up with the incomign fighter, both slamming head-on in a blaze of glory.

"Courageous fools!" Two of their own had sacrificed his life to save theirs...

The remaining members of the Angry Angels formed up, with their leader at the head of the fragmented delta. Suddenly, McQueen fired up his afterburners and roared past the entire swarm to intercept the retreating fighter.

"You're not getting away..." The effects of the KASS missiles had begun to wear off, and his craft regained its ability to use its radar. His HUD's reticle swayed back and forth to acquire the target. Upon tone, he fired off the salvo of AIM-7 and AMRAAMs along with a hail of 20mm cannon fire...

(OOC: lol, please DON'T kill McQueen. I'm planning to use him in another RP! 8) )

[OOC: Nah, Bludgeon Three's too concerned with saving his own skin (or scales) to kill McQueen.
About Khrrck aircraft; they're built tough. They are designed to keep working after suffering massive damage, and to stay in one piece under extreme stress. A direct missile hit will still finish one, though...]

"Damnit, they're after me."
Barbarian Three kicked in his afterburners, pointed his nose at the ground, and dived, McQueen's 20mm fire screaming through the air above him.
He winced as his airframe began to groan ominously; it just wasn't designed for power-dives, especially not with afterburners.

The altimeter readings ticked away in the back of his mind; 12000, 8000, 2000, 1000, 500...

Three yanked his nose up as he passed the 300-foot mark, his wings bending under the stress. He leveled off at fifty feet above the ground.

Three looked at his airspeed gauge. The needle was off the top of the scale.
I'm glad they reinforce these things. If this was a human-built plane, I'd be dead by now...

[OOC: Oh, and Three's airspeed gauge goes up to Mach 2.5]

Borealis watched the dogfight from the hanger door, raptly taking in the display as his marine comrades lead Arak and his superiors into the belly of the Danton. They slid open the door to the officer's mess, the leader signaling for them to hold as he entered, bowing deeply and speaking in Takian, a flowing language utilizing a large number of hand gestures and bowing. He turns and motions for the newcomers to enter, Captian Katsuragi standing and bowing politly to them as they entered.

"Ah, good day, good day, I am Captian Kastsuragi, the Commander of the other ship here." he motions to the others "I was just discussing how we arrived here by accident durring battle around the. . ." he looks puzzled for a moment "I belive it was the Yalta system, you must forgive me, I've not got a head for names. Please, have a seat. . . um, would you like some cofee?" he asks, looking over their reptilian forms "Or perhaps you would prefer some tea?"

Gunny looks over the newcomer, noting the similarity between them and himself, though he pauses for a moment at the claws.

'iron?' he thinks silently 'or steel. . . what kind of creatures are these?'

He continues to stand stoicly silent, eyes scanning the room as his tounge flickers out, tasting the air and adding anouther aspect to his sences.

'the male is excited, but the female. . . she seems agitated. . . nervous even. . . and the military man seems. . . rebelious. . . yes' he turns his attention to the reptilian creatures, though he remains unable to read them. . . the scents being alien, yet similar. . . almost a cross between the Avian of home and his people. . . 'What strange creatures, with any luck we will share enough cultural simularities that we can work a deal for the Oni Liberation movement. . . I must talk with them later.'

The two AIM-7's were completely useless in moves as tight as the Khrrck ship. With a bellowing explosion, they erupted into flames near the vicinity of the Danton and shook the area surrounding it. One of the AMRAAM's did the same, though its counterparts pursued the deserter with the relentlessness only a machine could ever have.

Meanwhile, McQueen's F-15 did a corkscrew dive towards the ground in conjunction with the enemy craft's move. He leveled off at a steep angle, ending up only fifty feet above the altitude of his opponent. Another squeeze of his trigger forced his chaingun to spit out 20mm rounds...

It wasn't until now that Command had noticed a lone fighter gunning after a single jet.

"Command to Angel 1, proceed back to vector Alpha and regroup."

No response. He was too busy lining up his sights on the Khrrck.

"Angel 1, disengage pursuit immediately. You are nearing Ironscales territory...McQueen, dammit...Turn back NOW!"

With a flip of a switch, he turned off the transponder and continued his pursuit. Apparently, however, his wingmates had been told to force him to break off. They flanked him seconds after he had gone radio silent.

"Sir, we sure hope you're not risking getting shot down in their airspace just because you wanted to chase a fly. Please follow us back in formation."

(OOC: Khrrck please state either B3's death or that we are really near his clan's airspace so that I can break off the attack.)

"No, thank you." answer Arak and Makala, almost simultaneously.

Akram seems to notice Gunny looking them over and grins at him, exposing some nasty-looking teeth.

Makala gets down to buisness. "Alright. First, I'd like to apologize for that attack. There probably won't be more, however. I think they've learned it's futile."

Hakiar breaks in. "And you seem to be buried here. We've got plenty of experience with digging, so if you need help, we'd be happy to provide assistance."

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

Barbarian Three's aircraft shuddered as McQueen's 20mm rounds tore through his airframe. One of his twin engines hissed and began to smoke.
He struggled to keep his aircraft flying, only a few miles away from the safety of Temporary Base Six and its computer-controlled AA batteries.

He screamed over the border, McQueen's AMRAAMs in hot pursuit.
Base Six's batteries raked the missiles with bullets, smashing them out of the air.

"Thanks, guys." breathed Barbarian Three. "He nearly got me there."

The base replied, coldly."We don't appreciate deserters."
It took only seconds for the autocannons to shred Barbarian Three's aircraft.

Gunny's eyes widdend slightly, though outwardly he simply nodded, yawning to expose his own fangs. Though not as impressive as Akram's, two hinged fangs glistened for a moment before finished, and turned back to the grouping.

"Yes" Katsuragi said "An excavation crew would be excelent. . . though I'm sure you will want some form of recompensation for it." his mild face traced over all invovled "What do you require for such a task? Perhaps a sample of our hull? Some equasions your scientists will be able to use to advance your technlogy by a decade. . . or perhaps. . . a chance to live in the future?" he archs an eyebrow, eyes locking with Irene "perhaps a ship of your own in my time, a fold driver to use to discover what happened to your lost compatriots? Ask away, and if it is in my power to give, I will provide it."

McQueen furrowed his brows and shielded his eyes from the incoming fireball. With a jerk of the flight stick, his F-15 did a 180-degree turn seconds before he even crossed the border. His wingmates followed suit.

"Son of a b*tch!" He belted out a string of curses through his now-activated transponder.

"What's wrong, sir? You got the pansy!"

"Yeah boss, great shot!"

After a few shouts of congratulations, he had had enough. "It wasn't me...they turned their own batteries against their last fighter..."

The formation slowed its engines to make a quick fly-by of the crash site to show their support for their newfound allies. They barrel-rolled in tandem as they flew over--the Angry Angels' victory dance.


-----


Irene's eyes lit up at the thought of bringing back her supposedly deceased fiancee. But though her heart wanted to bring him back, the scientist in her still doubted the possibility and the consequences of doing so.

What bothered her the most, however, was the way Katsuragi had posed his question...It was as if he knew her innermost desires.

"What exactly would be the implications of bringing back our crew?"

"Dr. Price..." It was O'Neill's way of telling women to shut up.

Larkov chimed in. "Yes, Doctor...It would not be a wise decision on their part to try rescuing them, even if they are still alive at some point in the future. We don't know what paradox such an action might bring about."

Irene had heard enough from the two. "All you want from this little expedition is to exploit their technology to--" She paused, knowing she would contradict herself if she finished her statement. "At least what I'm asking of them will save lives! Admit it Larkov! You didn't give a damn if they were coming back or not as long as your machine worked!" Her words were full of passion; the only problem was she became so emotional that she had trouble coming up with a more eloquent response. In a burst of tears, she buried her face in her hands mumbling "Heartless bastards..." as she made her way towards more private quarters.

"Irene? Irene!" Despite his calls for her, the Col. failed. "God, why does she have to get so emotional every time we tell her it's impossible?!" Typical O'Neill. Sometimes he could be the most insensitive prick in the world.

"Colonel, her fiancee was part of the test group...He flew the shuttle."

"Oh.........Hmph..........Wow." Again, typical O'Neill. Short grunts and phrases when he realized he had done something wrong. "Well, Captain Katsuragi...That's Japanese isn't it? Well anyway, I guess our government would now be reluctant to force you to hand over anything, but whatever you think is appropriate as a sign of gratitude will do. I'm sure Dr. Larkov and...well, I don't know about Price...the rest of our scientists can provide assistance."

"Yes, we'd be glad to. Though our tools may seem rudimentary compared to your technology, we will do our best to repair any damage to both ships."

The pilot of the one remaining Bludgeon groaned as he recovered his senses.
"Sorry about that." apologized his flight computer.
"I had to be pretty extreme to get us out of there."
The pilot sorted muzzily through the mess of data and alarms in his mind.
"What happened to the Ironscales?"
The computer described the events, briefly.
"Good gods. Can we make it back to base?"
"We lost several fuel tanks. The Ironscale base is the only one in range."
"Head for it."

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

"You'rre good."
Base Six's autocannons tracked the Angry Angels warily.
"Don't worry, we won't firre unlesss you do."

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

A small spark jumped between two of Akram's teeth before he snapped his jaws shut.

"Stop showing off, Akram."
Hakiar glared at Akram for a moment before answering Katsuragi.
"Someone else can decide what we get in return. Now, getting you out is going to be tough."

He paused, momentarily.
"I've got some digging experience; I was in charge of a digging crew when we were expanding our capital. About how deep are you buried?"

(OOC: There was one more Bludgeon left?)

The Angels picked up the communique and responded with a rather sarcastic message: "We'll take your word for it." McQueen shook his head as his squadron and the frontline F-14's returned to their respective BoO's to rearm and refuel.


-----


Colonel O'Neill chimed in with Hakiar to answer for Katsuragi. "I don't know about their estimates, but from what I could tell it's anywhere between fifteen-hundred to two-thousand feet. Once...*ahem* if we somehow manage to lift it up from the crater, we're looking at a hole that can fit in twenty football fields...Do you have anything that can lift itup?" He turned to Hakiar, but Larkov had another suggestion.

"Perhaps the Khrrck would be interested in helping us further our research on magnetic levitation? Currently, we are able to keep a 10-ton object afloat for a few minutes before our energy generators are depleted..."

"Accualy" Katsuragi said, sheepishly looking at the Colonel. "the Assisted Suicide is burried to about half a kilometer. . . but to make matters worse, the earth is phased inside our ship. . . so we will need to excavate the interior as well, and the hull is a combi hull, meaning that its quite thick, seven meters to be exact. . . in space, that much mass doesn't matter much as our Inerital displacement drivers are able to use it to our benifit. But the Colonel has a point. . . that ship easily weights 35 million tons of hulling alone. . . add in weapons systems, decks, computers, and of course the amount of earth inside that ship. . . you are looking at. . ." He pauses to calculate for a moment "two, three hundered million tons? even if you remove the earth in half of my ship, you are looking at a good 178 million tons, likey more. Perhaps rather than dig around it, if we dug into it. . . an earth ramp we could then take it out on with a craw. . . oh. . . I don't suppose you have any trucks which could cary a kilometer long space craft. . . do you? No worries though, if I can get to the powerplant, I can reboot the system and use our IDD driver and thursters to pull back into orbit. . . though that implies that the containment chamber on the fusion plant wasn't breached. . . I know for a fact that one of our plasma generators was phased into the earth, as its wing is compelelty submerged, yet I didn't get a chance to check the main power room. All I know is that we have at least one online, meaning Erika still has control over the majority of the ship's functions."

O'Neill stroked his chin, trying to come up with ways to lift the Danton and Assisted Suicide...Cranes wouldn't do, and neither would helicopters. Even their thickest cables would buckle trying to lift the ships off their earthen capsules. He blinked, realizing a possible solution.

"Airbags."

Larkov gave him a strange glance. "Airbags?"

"Yes, airbags...Katsuragi, Douglas, we're using titanium-laced airbags right now to construct a large matrix of buildings in Crystal City. The city's structure is kinda like this: giant tubes were built almost a quarter of a mile in diameter and arranged into a pyramid skeleton so that it would be structurally sound once we integrated the buildings into it. It's hard to explain how the structure is like, but that's not that important. You see, at first the Royal Engineer Corps deemed the blueprints impossible to implement, due to the fact that no crane in our possession could even lift 20 feet of the tubes. So instead of using anything mechanical, they produced the titanium laced fiber that was formed into a large airbag. Within three days, they had inflated it enough to raise the skeleton. This was solid steel, mind you. I'm not exactly sure how much each beam weighed, but these behemoths weren't light. There's no harm in trying either; if it does burst...we'll just need to build a much stronger fabric."

"If it breaks, the ship may be damaged severely."

"Hmm...well...We can dig a deep trench around the perimeter of the craft and airbag and fill it up with some sort of cushioning substance. Maybe liquid foam or something."

"Aha!" Larkov chuckled lightly. "I guess they've implemented Engineering 101 into the army's training curriculum!"

"Watch it, Doc. Just because you're an old man doesn't mean I'd be unwilling send you back in small, little boxes..." retorted the other.

Hakiar blinks. "Three hundred million tons? I don't think we've got any chance of lifting that... heck, even if you had crashed in the Mage Hills we could only have lifted one of those pinnaces."

He takes on a distant look for a moment.
"That's not to say we couldn't have done it in the old days... there's legends about Kartanak, who once moved a mountain..."

Hakiar snaps out of it.
"As for mechanically lifting the thing... I've no idea. I'm not sure even your airbags would stand up under three hundred million tons. We could reinforce them with Earth, but I'm not sure even that would be enough."

"Perhaps it would be better to figure out if we can lift the ships out until after we know if our damage is repairable or not. And I do believe the pinnaces could help, although the ship only carries six."

"well what if we used neo-titanium, and fill the baggies with water?" Katsuragi asks, looking up from his contemplation "the liquid wouldn't compress as much, and the synthetic titanium would be less brittle than mined titanium. . . so that would kill two birds with one stone. . . a stronger bag, and should it break, then the liquid would slow the decent further into the crater."

Hakiar shakes his head. "I don't think we could get the water. We're hundreds of miles from the nearest river, and you'd have to lay in totally new piping; I don't think the irrigation systems around here have enough capacity. One thing, though; we don't have to lift the ship out in one piece. I'm sure you've got it seperated into airtight compartments, so we could chop it into pieces that the pinnaces could haul into orbit and reassemble. All you really need is the engines, life support, and enough cabin space to hold the crew, right? We don't even need to lift it all out."

Meanwhile, Akram seems to have noticed Gunny's krys blade.
"May I have a look at your blade? I've never seen one like it before."
His voice is low and hissing, but it doesn't sound mechanical.

O'Neill craned his neck and rubbed his temples as he retorted. "If by 'pinnace' you mean a small tug, it could take weeks or even months for all this stuff to be put into orbit. Like I said, the Danton alone is HUGE. We could send a shuttle or two equipped with cranes to help the pinnaces out, but the maximum load each can swing around in zero-g is about 66,000 pounds. Plus, these launches aren't cheap...But I think Douggie here is right. The damages both ships incurred should be assessed first before we even think of lifting them off an inch from the ground; if both of their propulsion systems are shot, why waste the energy?"

------

Meanwhile...

In one of the darkened quarters within Danton, Irene sobbed softly and finished wiping off the last of her tears. If I can't convince them to get him back, I'll make them...

*Calalink...calalink....calalink*. It was the familiar sound of the standard issue Ramadoonian combat boot equipped with iron spikes for traction on earthy terrain. She looked frantically for any blunt object, and upon finding a metallic pipe that had come loose during the crash, she waited in the shadows.

Suddenly, the footsteps paused. Had he heard the rustling? *....Calalink....calalink...calalink*. The guard passed the room, not noticing his stalker that was about to ambush him.

Irene snuck out and shook his shoulder. As the guard turned to lock eyes with her, she swung the pipe full force at his face sending blood spurting out of his mouth. The guard wasn't badly injured, but he wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. She grabbed his pistol and two grenades and concealed them in her utility pockets. Not wanting to leave any trace of her deeds, she ripped a piece of her undershirt and wiped the traces of blood that had plastered itself to the wall. The soldier was then stuffed into a utility locker (albeit with a lot of effort in her part).

Drawing the pistol on her right and a grenade sans pin on the other, Irene sprinted to those still discussing the ships' fate. With an expression usually stemming from an individual hell bent on completing the mission (or a taciturn, suicidal woman from the loony bin), she muttered under her breath, "You all know what I'm here for..."

"That would be difficult, but not imposible, the hull would be the hardest part as it was treated to act as if it were cast from a single peice, though I suppose a combat worthy vessel is a minor priority at this point. Yes. . . that plan will have to do, if we can get the bridge and computer room in orbit first, then we could accualy use it as a space station, keep workers there and have them build onto it till we have the entire ship constructed in orbit. I'm afraid I don't know enough about the Vernian ships to suggest a starting point for them, but I assume the same could be done with it. We could even leave a good portion of the substructure here for you, as with only six men we won't be needing as many bunks, and I suppose we could leave a few weapon's systems behind as well, to reduce the ammount of cargo you will need to take up. We do have a couple of shuttles in the docking bay, but they are currently burried in the ground, along with our squadron of interceptors, though if we can get them excavated, we'll be able to help with the ferrieing."

Gunny's hand traced to his back as he lifted the blade with an air of reverence and utter respect. He flipped the sword in the air, catching it by the blade with his talons before handing the handle to Akram.

"It'sss mossstly ssserimonial" he hissed quietly "though I've usssed it in battle more than onssse."

As Irene entered, Shinta turned, His eyes widened in shock, though his helmet hid any trace of emotion. He moved protectivly between Katsuragi and her.

"easy now" he said in the best english he could muster. "don't do something you'll regret later." He thumbed his coms switch, turning off the external speaker and switching to radio to his mates.

"She's got a gun, and a grenade" he said in Takian over the radio "two of you move in behind her while I keep her attention.

"put the gun down, ma'am, rejoin your friends at the table" he said, switching back to external voice. He walked slowly towards her, as two marines quietly slipped between her and the door she had just entered, quietly and slowly moving towards her.

A tear rolled down her cheek as she turned to Larkov. "I told you I would risk life and limb to bring him back...And Captain, please don't try anything. The grenade vaporizes anything within five meters and the pin's been pulled--once I let go, our fates are sealed."

Larkov cautiously approached her, while O'Neill tried to hold him back. The old man shook himself free and continued his slow pace. "Now Dr. Price, heed the Captain Katsuragi's warning. I'm sure we can work this out." As he finished his plea, a shot rang out. Blood began to trickle from his shoulder--had Irene been actually proficient with a handgun, he wouldn't be as fortunate. "You...you shot me..."

She was just as shocked as he was. To her, the gun had gone off by accident...her hand was trembling so much that the sudden sound of light footsteps behind her made her squeeze off a round. The consequences were dire...if they brought her back alive, she'd be sentenced to life for her rebellion. In a final act of desperation, she dropped to her knees and let go of the grenade...Its fuse began to tick. 5 seconds...

4 seconds...Though Larkov's blood began to ooze out of his hazmat, there seemed to be no indication that the old man was any weaker. His hand swooped down to catch the grenade.

3 seconds...at a full sprint, he bolted out of the room, past the guards who were sneaking up on Dr. Price.

2 seconds...Larkov was making his way past the maze of corridors and came upon an empty bay...

1 second. He held the grenade close to his heart..."God forgive me." *Fyuweeeeee* It was the nade's way of saying its fuse was fatally short.

----

The explosion rocked the nearby structures, including the conference room the others were in. Irene had crumpled to the floor in a fetal position, alternating between a sob and a high-pitched hiccup. Both her gun and explosive lay next to her, but she had no intention of using them anymore. Slowly, the Colonel approached and helped her up, unsure of whether to verbally abuse or comfort her child-like trance...

Akram had stood up on his hind legs to accept Gunny's blade, bracing himself with his tail.
Then the confusion started.

"What the hell?"
Akram dropped Gunny's blade and drew both his swords, almost too fast to see. One of them had a long, dark grey blade with a sigil inlaid in silver on the blade, and the other was a dark red shade, with a different sigil inlaid in gold.

"Ignite!" he shouted, causing the red blade to burst into flame.
A quiet click resounded through the room; the safety catch on Makala's guns had gone off.

Hakiar just looked stunned. "Can somone please tell me what's going on?"

Damage alarms went off all through the battleship, and damage control crews raced into the damage hangar with firefighting equipment.

Xavier and Douglas both pulled out their pulsers and aimed at Irene. "Someone secure that weapon." Douglas said, pointing his pulser at the dropped hangun.

The marines stood silently, till snapped out of their revery by the explosion. One scooped up the handgun and the grenade, taking it out of reach of the sobbing woman, while the other two and the Guardsman moved toward her, but like the colonel, stopped short, unsure of how to treat her in her childlike state.

Akram, seeing that the situation seemed to be over, shouted "Extinguish!"

Nothing happened.

"Damn low-level interference..."
Akram glared at his flaming sword, slapped it against the floor, and shouted at it again; it went out.

He flipped his swords back into their scabbards, then bent over to pick up Gunny's blade.

Akram examined it with an expert eye. "Nice... decent edge, lightweight, good balance." He tapped it against the ceiling. "Interesting material... single-crystal. Pretty strong, but it wouldn't stand up to my sword."

Akram handed the krys blade back to Gunny.

Gunny takes the sword reverently.

"Belive what you will, Agrollian cyssstal hasss never broken in combat."

To emphasis his point, he slams it blade first into the wall, cutting through two inches of metal before bringing the flawless crystal blade back out, nto so much as a scratch on it.

"sssimply be glad I've not any Agrol blood in me. . . otherwissse that wall would have ssseasssed to essssissst." he hissed, slowly sheathing the blade.

O'Neill had never seen this side of her...To him, Dr. Price was one of the most independent and strong-willed women he knew. Seeing her in such a pitiful state almost moved him to tears, but his machismo prevailed. He would respond the way he was trained to be--harsh and brutal, like an interrogator squeezing the facts out of his captive.

"You're as good as dead, Dr. Price. I'm pretty sure the courts would love to label you as a traitor..." This did not make things any better. Her cries became much more emotional, filled with regret and the sense of failure...So he slapped her. "Snap out of it!" He shouted angrily. The Colonel did not want to look weak in front of the others.

He picked her up by the elbows and forced her to stand, while she reluctantly did so, hiccuping and wiping away the tears from her bloodshot eyes. "Apologize!" The way he said it, you could swear he was talking to a dog who had pissed on the carpet. When no reply came but sobs, he squeezed her arm hard, causing her to yelp and belt out her apologies.

"Excuse me gentlemen while I escort Dr. Price to a transport...She is being relieved of her duties." A word or two midsentence, he choked back tears. For the first time in his life, he felt empathy toward another fellow human being. He led her away from the group and towards the exit...

Akram grinned, and drew his black sword again. "You underestimate the sharpness of this blade."

He flicked his blade at the wall, like Gunny had, but with much less force.
The steel blade slid into the wall in a way no piece of metal had any right to.

Akram swung the blade through the wall, cutting a angular, intricate pattern in the wall before flipping it back out and into its scabbard.

Gunny's eyes widdened slightly, and if he had any eyebrows, they would have arched at the display.

"Impressssive, but it isss not sssharpnesss alone that determinesss who livesss and diesss in battle."

He was undetered by the situation at hand, partialy from focus training, partialy from pride in his weapon. His fellow marines moved to flank Colonel O'Neil, though Katsuragi stood and wispered something the Guardsman, the giant of a man hurrying to catch up with the military man as he dragged the weeping woman towards the hanger.

"Well, that seems to have killed our conversation. . . I do hate to inturpt after a trajedy such as this, but I'm afraid we have many things to do before we can properly honor the good doctor who sacrificed himself to save us." Katsuragi said, bringing the attention of the room back to him.

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

"Colonel. . . " the guardsman said, stooping to move through the hallways,

"I would like a word with you as to the girl's fate. . ."

"Her fate?" He turns to the guardsman with a quizzical look; he didn't expect that they would intervene with her arrest. "I know she has destroyed equipment on this ship and threatened our very lives...but our government frowns upon extradition. She will be charged with treason and probably..." With sorrow in his eyes, he glanced at Irene momentarily to gauge her reaction. She knew as well as he did that such an atrocity would be met with the highest form of punishment. "...exile to the Wastelands."

The Wastelands. Once a lush forest habitated by the Ramadoon's most exotic species, the discovery of uranium and the resulting onslaught of the excavations transformed it into a nuclear-ridden desert. Only the lowliest criminals were ever given a life sentence there...Serial murderers, rapists, cannibals, and Benedict Arnolds. Years of exposure have turned some into a mutated freaks that have developed immunities against their radioactive environment. O'Neill knew she wouldn't last a minute there, but he had no choice.

On second thought, maybe he did. The travellers have seemed to be a very civilized race so far; perhaps their punishment would not be as severe. Even if they executed her with a firing squad, it would be a quick death...But handing her over would not come without a price. He would have to face the wrath of his superiors when he returned.

The Colonel still had a good grip on Irene when she started screaming, her high-pitched voice piercing through their ears like a hot dagger. "Please, don't let them take me! The Wastelands! No!" She struggled to free herself, and O'Neill's hold began to loosen...

Captain Douglas watches the scene impassively, but Xavier's expression does contain a lot of sympathy for Irene, even though she did attempt to hold them hostage. Without thinking of asking Douglas first, he asks "Perhaps the matter of her crimes can wait a while and be decided upon later?"

Bump?

OOC: Still waiting for the others to respond, but this seems to be a dead post...Vernii, do you still want to RP it any further and tie up the loose ends?

[OOC: I was just thinking about posting. I'm willing to go on if you are.]

I'd like to keep this going.

The guardsman nodded somberly, steping towards the terrified woman.

"I'm afraid that she will be unable to leave Takian custody, you are welcome to have her tried by proxy in your courts, though once found guilty she will be handed over to Takian Authority. . . I'm sorry Colonel, but she is not to leave this ship without me present."

He stood up to his full height, towering over O'Neil.

"It is. . . Takian custom. . . that all prim, er, outsiders, that have had contact with a Takian be held in quarentine or returned to Taka. . . I hope this is not an inconvience on your or your men."

Akram nodded. "That's true. But-"
He reached for his swords again, but was stopped by Hakiar. "Now is not the time for another sword demonstration, Akram."

Akram nodded, and dropped back to all fours.

*pokes topic*

We need Ramadoon to post.

OOC: Sorry for the delay guys...I thought this thread died already lol. Now that Takian responded, I've reconsidered that :lol: .

Ever the sarcastic and dry-witted man, O'Neill smirked incredulously at the guardsman's order.

"Inconvenience? Oh, that's an understatement, Paul Bunyan."

He turned to Katsuragi, his fingers finally letting go of Irene. She does not run away, but instead bolts for the guardsman and hangs onto his hip.

"Umm...Hmm. Okay, okay. Let me get this straight. I saved your butts by telling you about the EMP and getting my government to concede its efforts at trying to kill you--taking your precious stuff in the process--but I'm being royally screwed up the arse in return by Senor Too Tall here who says I can't step off this hulk? You gotta be serious..."

He grimaced, scratching theback of his head. He had a bunch of his troops waiting outside who'd be trigger happy once they received word of the "quarantine". The pulse rifles could shred through the most advanced armor they knew of...Ay, there's the rub. The most advanced armor they knew of. The Takians...Did they have some sort of composite armor the rounds woudln't penetrate? What if they didn't?

"How's about this. Temporarily held in quarantine, yes. Returned to Taka? No...f*cking...way."

With his one hand secretly ready to press the "use only when all hell breaks loose" button on his watch to call in the cavalry, he waited for a response...

Katsuragi's mind raced as he fabricated a story.

"That would be acceptable, though I'm afraid any who are likewise contaminated will have to remain in Takian custody."

He winced inwardly at the flimsyness of the excuse, but knew that Irene at least, could never leave the ship.

"it won't take long, infact if we could get my ship unearthed we could do it in a matter of minutes. . . though it may be easier to wait three weeks to see if any one else develops psychotic tendancies."

The guardsman put an arm over Irene, not from human compassion, but to assure he could spirit her away if the situation turned sticky.

O'Neill furrowed his eyebrows as he heard Katsuragi mention the word "contaminated".

"Contaminated with what, exactly? None of us are showing symptoms of psychosis, save for Irene. But she's got her reasons for what she's done."

His finger still hovered over the button, remaining unconvinced of the Captain's explanation...

---------------------------

News of Ramadoon's prolonged involvement with the time travellers traveled quickly amongst the men. The Elite Guards who had accompanied the Colonel felt that it was their duty to tell their friends outside when shifts changed. They, in turn, told almost everyone else. Within an hour, three squads had already begun plotting their only chance of escape--somehow finding a way to send word to the officials back home what had suddenly transpired...

"Irene was a civilian, Colonel, not a trained killer. Her mind was more fragile than the minds of your men, not only would it take longer for any type of mental contamination to show up, but you would be more capable of acting on your delusions. . . I assure you, we Takians have run across this before, and it will not be anything to worry about."

He leans back in his chair and waves his hand dismissialy

"It's a standard opperations procedure, you would have had to have remained on duty here that long, or longer anyways I'm sure. Think of it as a chance to learn about anouther society and a different culture from a human perspective."

The captain smiles quietly, locking eyes with the Colonel and scanning through his thoughs as well, though being more gentle this time, assuring that anouther Irene incident would not happen so soon.

"If you say so, Captain..." He was still doubtful of his explanation but wasn't willing to risk anything. If he was right, all of his men wouldn't turn into a bunch of angry drunks hell-bent on shooting anything that moves.

Timidly, O'Neill approached Irene with uncertainty--that is, uncertainty over how she would react to him showing a gentler side. He slowly hugged her and kissed her forehead, whispering "It's all going to be okay..." She responded more favorably than he had thought, hugging him tightly and thanking him. "We'll find him...We'll find him." It was an empty promise, at least coming from him...


--------------------


The communique was sent to Ramadoon headquarters at exactly 0530, courtesy of the splinter group of soldiers that had decided they had had enough of the "quarantine". Soon, the military would amass an army of prototype armor that they had been building up themselves to replace the aging Sheridan tanks in their arsenal. Within a week, they would be able to mobilize thousands of men to overwhelm the ship and re-take control.


---------------------


"Rise and shine, boys and girls! UP UP UP!" McQueen flicked the barracks' switch on, systematically pulling off the sheets from the soldiers as he walked down the aisle. "Looks like we're going to visit our old friends again!"

In a few minutes, the Angrty Angels had their flightsuits on. The engineers outside the tarmac were still prepping their planes as, well as hundreds of others from various squadrons, when they got to the airfield...

[OOC: I'd post something, but there isn't really anything to respond to.]

[OOC: Well, how's about waging a little skirmish with the Takians and their quarantine?]

[OOC: Eh? I've learned my lesson already, trying to attack the Taka ship.]

[OOC: lol, well Ramadoon's going to try the same thing...both air and ground :lol: ]

[OOC: Good luck. :P]

"captain, a word if I may" the guardsman said, now relieved of Irene.

"Certianly" he said, "gentlemen, if you can excuse me for a moment."

He stepped into the hallway, closing the door to assure no in the room could hear his conversation. Looking around to assure no one would intrude upon him, he locked eyes with the guardsman.

"This had better be important, guardsman, or I will be most displeased."

"Sir, I don't mean to question your authority here, but are you insane? You can't keep these people in quarentine, there isn't any reason to!"

"I know that, and you know that, but Irene only snapped because of my mental probing. . . I'd rather not allow them to know we had a hand in this. . . it could kill Takian relations well before they have a chance to start. . ."

"wouldn't it be easier to simply take her than to go through all of this?"

"patients, we threaten them with a total lock down, keep them penned up for a week to get the blood rising, and then offer to let them go, but in exchange, we will have to take care of poor Irene, whose psyche shattered at the visage of our Squallem friend. Or something similar. . . all that matters is that we can isolate her untill we can leave."

"understood" the guardsman said, moving back towards the room, followed by Katsuragi.

"Gentlemen, I pray you weren't kept waiting too long."

((OOC: you guys would likely win easily, seeing as how the ships are both heavily damaged and the only armor we have left intact is a single heavy recon vehicle and a couple other peices of cargo that survived.))

The U-2 flew high above the crash site, taking high resolution pictures of the surrounding area. It was scouring for possible choke points, artillery positions, what have you--everything that was vital to winning a battle against an advanced foe.

"Eagle Eye to Nest, mission accomplished. Returning to base."

"Roger that, Eagle Eye. Remember your orders."

A short pause, and finally, a confirmation. "Roger."

With or without the intel, if the U-2 was shot down armor was going to roll down from every possible point of strategic importance. The numbers were already beginning to grow in the outpost 90 miles west of the site, thanks to the help of C-141 Starlifters. Every hour or two, troops, armor, and supplies were being ferried almost nonstop. At a nearby airfield, squadrons of F-15's, along them the Angry Angels, loaded up their armament. They would be joined by their brethren from the naval carriers in the case of a bombing run...


--------------


The diversionary explosives were put into place. Each unpopulated crevice of the ship was stuffed with a small brick of C-4, enough to make the ship rattle but not damage it significantly. Elite Guards had snuck them onboard as they patrolled the hallways and inconspicuously put them under tables, behind a metal cabinet---basically anywhere that they could hide it from plain view.


--------------

O'Neill sighed. "No waiting at all. It looks like we're here until you let us go anyway." He had long forgotten about the panic button. It wasn't time yet to call in the cavalry...

"So what do I do now?" He glances quickly at Irene, who has already developed a mild case of psychosis. The doctor kept mumbling incoherently, but the Colonel picked up a single word he understood: Paul---her long-lost fiancee

OOC: I'm just going to point some stuff out. 1.) Everyone right now is onboard my ship, not the Takan one. The Danton is still somewhat combat effective, it just doesn't have shields, is missing several missile tubes and energy mounts, and of course it can't go anywhere. 2.) 2/3 of the crew is still alive, so sabotaging it is going to be a challenge, not impossible, but not necessarily easy.

IC: Sensors noted the U-2 as it passed overhead. I wonder what they are up to?, thought the officer of the watch. "Launch a sensor drone."

The doors over one of Danton's missile tubes opened, and the accelerator inside kicked the sensor drone out. At three kilometers up it brought it's impellers up to the bare minimum required for flight, and cruised above the landscape, transmitting it's data back to the ship.

OOC: Vernii, I'm fully aware of your points, and please don't think of the C-4 as a way to sabotage the ship. When I said brick, I meant something much smaller in the sense like the size of a lego block, enough to make noise but do little damage.


"We're on schedule, General. The C-141's are arriving on time to meet our deadline."

General Grier took a drag from his cigar as he oversaw the buildup. It was only the fourth day of operation, but they already had an army large enough to invade North Korea--and win.

"How many do we have so far?"

"We are almost two-hundred-thousand strong, with almost a few hundred tanks. In three hours, the rest of the armor and men will be brought over by ship bringing our total close to 500,000. I am not sure how much planes the airforce will provide."

Jesus Christ, Grier thought. A half-million up against a couple of hundred? Or was it thousands? Then again, maybe it would be a fair fight, considering the advanced technology the travellers hold. "What of our supplies?"

"They're being brought over every day, and the men are restricted to eating only 3 meals a day."

"And how much longer until we can attack?"

"We're awaiting confirmation from Central Command..."


-------------


Another EMP satellite was being moved over to its now defunct sibling which hovered aimlessly miles above the Danton. It would take about five hours for it to reposition itself...


-------------


The rather concise message was sent to the Danton at around 9 in the evening.

"Danton, release our troops. Withdrawing our offer to help. Unwilling to risk harm to our scientists. Respond immediately, or we will be forced to resort to military action."

Damnit!! Erika snapped, watching the scene unfold. She opened an encrypted link to the Dalton, blurting out to the captian before checking to see whoelse was in the room.

Captian, those bastards are preparing an ambush, they've got armor all over the place and my interception abilities are only at 12% right now. With your permission, I would like to arm fusion torpedeos and begin targeting large cities for compelte anihilation.

Katsuragi sighed, looking over the shocked expressions of the people around him.

"negative, you are not to use any of our fusion torpedeos, you may, however, arm a single Takatanium torp, and wait till my orders to give them a taste of high tech warfare."

He cuts off the comlink, turning to O'Neil with a sour expression on his face.

"I take it you have something to do with this, Colonel. . . though I'm afraid Takian protocal doesn't allow us to negotiate under threat of armed incurrsion. You and your men are to report into headquarters with your situation, and inform them that quarentine is temporary. . . and that I will not be held responcible for the loss of life an attack against a ship from the Takian Space Armada would entail."

Makala's eyes narrowed. "Just a damn minute. What about us? You attack a ship when we're on it and you've got a situation on your hands. I'm sure the Ironscales would love another chance to fight."

O'Neill looked at Katsuragi with a look of surprise, his brows and lips contorted to express his disbelief.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute, chief. This has something to do with me? What's going on? Armed incursion?"

If he hadn't called for the heavy artillery, who did? Suddenly, one of the Elite Guards still loyal to him entered the room--stripped of his armor and weapon. Behind him were two of the rebelling troops, holding him at gunpoint.

"Sir, I...I couldn't do anything." He lowered his head, biting his lip as he did so. Suddenly, he jerked his head upward to spout information to O'Neill. "They've got an army headed this way sir! We have to--" Before he could finish, one of the soldiers behind him slammed the butt of his rifle against the latter's cranium, sending the loyalist crumpling to the floor.

O'Neill came forward, stopping short as the Elite Guard drew his weapon and pointed it at him. All he could do was glance helplessly at the Khrrck and Takian to his sides...

"You're coming with us, sir."


---------


"Any response from the ship yet?"

"None. Should we wait?"

"No. The deadline is still set. We commence operations at dawn."

"What if they're sending someone here to talk...?"

"Yeah? And what if they're arming whatever they hell they've got left?"

"But what about the Khrrck there? Hitting the ship would start a war with them too."

"Collateral damage. We'll settle it later."

The conversation between Grier and his subordinate ended with the Lieutenant conceding to the wishes of his superior. What else could the he do? He had no say in the matter...

Xavier pulls his pulser out of his belt holster and points it at the Elite Guard. "Nobody is going anywhere you Neo-Barb. Lay your weapons down and drop to the floor."

Katsuragi stood back watching the scene unfold around him. The three Takian marines stepped infront of him, forming a human shield with their power armor infront of their leader. They leveled rifles in unison, the guardsman and the squallem moving towards the left and righthand side, both drawing pistols.

"Give it up" the captian said "Our ship just relayed to me that the Ramadoonian military is preparing for an exercise in futility, we can have your commrades in arms flash frozen in a heartbeat." He glares at the insurgants and nods to Colonel O'Neil "I seem to owe you an appology, though I recomend you step back behind these gentlemen."

The guardsman steps foward slowly, fitting a helmet snuggly over his head. He moves towards the Colonel, pistol outstreched.

About a half dozen Elite Guards flowed into the room, their weapons drawn. The two already in there already had theirs pointed at the Takians.

O'Neill turned to the EG's and bellowed out a command. "Drop your weapons now and retreat to your posts, or I will personally make sure that all of you will be hanged for treason."

"Colonel, with all due respect, you should be the one worried about a noose. Might we remind you that we are being kept here against our will, thus negating any 'friendly' disposition we have towards our captors."

"It's a goddamn quarantine, you idiot! You know what happened to her?!" He pointed his thumb towards his back in the direction of Irene. "She went nutzoid 'cause of some...some..." Of course, now he was pulling out the info out of thin air, just as Katsuragi was. "Some nerve agent that we've been exposed to! They're immune to it--we aren't. Just let me talk to whoever the hell is leading the cavalry here and explain what's going on!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Didn't you hear what he just said?! A thousand of---"

"Five-hundred thousand, Colonel."

"...A...A half million! A half million of our own...You're willing to risk their lives just because of a little misunderstanding?"

The Elite Guards glanced at each other quickly, seemingly swayed by his rationale.

O'Neill turned to Katsuragi, then Douglas. "Let me go back and talk with them so I can fill them in on what's really happening..." The Elite Guards lowered their weapons and bowed an apology to the others...


---------


"Artillery and armor are in place sir...Should we really do this?"

"How many times must I repeat, myself? We attack at dawn."

The hundreds of tanks neared their target, some in tight formations, others spread out. Artillery pieces hung way back behind the lines, and the first wave of bombers neared the crash site. It wouldn't be too long until the EMP cannon was ready to fire once the C-4 were set off...

Akram paused as the Elite Guards lowered their weapons. He slid his half-unsheathed swords back into place. "Perhaps you had better explain what's going on to us, as well."

He sent a more private message to Makala, via the small radio transmitter in his toolpack. :When are the aircraft going to get here?:
:Three rapid-attack squadrons will arrive in thirty minutes. The EMP wreckers will arrive ten minutes later. They're all armed with KASS air-to-ground and Thor air-to-air.:
:Good. Which clan?:
:I'm afraid it's the Ironscales again. They've got the closest military bases. They're eager, and I hope they've learned some from their first defeat.:

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

Mincer Leader cruised towards the crash site. The other seventy-one aircraft, Novas and Songbirds from RAS 14, 29, and 6 followed, the cold pre-dawn light shining off their blurred, indistinct surfaces.

He ran yet another check. The blurring spells were all working fine, absorbing radar and making his aircraft indistinct. His missiles were all functional. There was nothing to do but wait.

"There sure is suddenly a lot of air traffic," the sensor officer noted as he watched his display. "Better get the Captain up here."

Douglas looked down as his wrist communicator beeped politely. Walked over to a corner of the room and whispered, "Yes, what is it? We're in the middle of a delicate situation here so this better be important."

"Sir, theres suddenly a lot of air traffic around here. You might want to get up here, I think somethings going on."

"I'll be right there." Douglas turned to the rest of the groups, "If you will excuse me gentlemen, I'm needed on the bridge." He moves toward the door.

Katsuragi's eyes widened slightly, surprised that O'Neil was playing along with his ploy. Outwardly he hardened his expression, regaining control and composure.

"I pray we can work this situation out, Colonel" he said, "Erika has loaded a Takatanium torpedeo, and is preparing to fire it. . . while I've delayed her launch, her programing will override my command should my life be in danger aboard anouther vessel. . . it's a way to stop nations from ambushing us durring peace talks, though it could mean disaster."

He tilts his head towards O'Neil as he matches his pace "Our ship will launch an ICBM style missile towards your nearest large population center. . . though rather than a standard nuclear warhead, it will flash freeze everything within it's blast radius to near absolute zero. . . there will be no surviving this weapon"

"and one more thing Colonel" he says, in a voice so low as to be hearable only to O'Neil. "Thank you for playing along. . ."

O'Neill nodded slightly to him in reply, knowing full well the consequences of the matter had he not done so. He wasn't ready to have his countrymen blown to bits just because he wanted to call their bluff.


-------


The EG's outside were surprised to see the Colonel surrounded by 8 of their own, the the pieces of their armor squelching and clanking as they did so. They led him into an awaiting Huey which would take him back to base...


-------


"Grier! Grier! Call your dogs off!" Grier almost jolted out of his seat when the panting Colonel burst into his office. He was wearing a bright orange hazmat to complete the disguise.

"You look good for a guy who's been held in prison."

"You guys got it all wrong! We've been quarantined because we were exposed to a nerve agent...Not only will they launch a WMD at us if you break out the armor, but you'll stop their production of the serum as well."

"So that explains the outfit, huh, Jack...?"

"Only a precaution. They're not sure if it spreads from human to human."

The General's eyes lowered--a sign meaning he was considering his options. "And you'll take full responsibility if anything goes wrong?"

"Sir, if you don't stop them from trying to blow that ship to kingdom come, you'll be responsible for the deaths of a half million soldiers, not to mention the whole populace of Crystal City."


-------


Sunrise came, but the sound of exploding shells and machine gun fire were absent--only the hum of vehicles as they had stopped short of their objective. It was a sight to behold. Hundreds, if not thousands of tanks were within a 10-mile radius of the crash site, accompanied by a swarm of attack helicopters.

"Angel Leader, attack is a no-go. Attack is a no-go. Disengage and proceed to patrol waypoints."

"Copy that, command. You heard him."

The Angry Angels, along with the numerous squadrons, withdrew from the bombing run and retreated to a patrol pattern; basically, they flew a 30-mile circle around the Danton.

Miles above, however, the EMP cannon awaited further commands...if they were going to try anything funny, it would quickly charge up and fire, disabling any electronics the ship had...


-------


About a half-hour after the order had been given, O'Neill returned to the makeshift "conference" room inside the vessel. With him, he carried a personalized letter of apology from the Prime Minister and the War Cabinet (which included Grier, of course). He extended it to the three representatives present: Katsuragi, Douglas, and Makala.

"A little misunderstanding, they said. Grier says 'Sorry'." He chuckled dryly, hoping the friendship between the four powers would remain intact...

Mincer 42: Gods, what a sight.
The three squadrons circled quietly around the mass of Ramadoon vehicles.

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

Makala nodded. "We'll accept your apology. Just a moment."
Her eyes defocused as she sent commands through her pack's communications system.
Makala: Call off the attack. I repeat, call off the attack.
Mincer Leader: Sure, whatever...
Mincer W2: I was looking forward to a battle...

OOC: You're attacking the Takan cruiser? I thought they were coming in to attack the Ramadoon forces.

[OOC: *slaps head* Yeah, they were. *edits post*]

Actually, now I regret saying anything. That could've been interesting, and this RP needs a bit more conflict. I'm thinking of having one of the Danton's senior officers losing his nerve and taking out the satellite, maybe touching off a brief firefight, but only if its ok with Ramadoon.

Katsuragi nodded as he examined the letter, quietly breathing a sigh of relife.

"This brings us down to only three loose ends, one, the fate of our ships, and how they will be excavated from thier current resting places. . . secondly, wether or not we can fix the fold drivers to return to our time, and finaly, the payment your nations will recieve for their assistance. Irene will have to come with us back to Taka to see how far along her contamination has spread, and wether or not she can be spared for a life in the future. We, of course send our condolences to the family for her leave of absence, though perhaps her ancestors will be alive in our time, so she may have closure in that aspect of her life."

A warm, almost fatherly glow appears in his eyes as he reguards O'Neil

"And of course we owe you a congradulations, for adverting a war that would have cost the lives of countless men, women and children. . . long may your name be remembered."

OOC: Vernii, I feel the same way. My main concern is that I don't want the ship damaged as much as you do. Perhaps Khrrck can supply those pesky Ironscales again? :wink:

O'Neill sighed, not thinking he even deserved the congratulations for what he did. "It's kind of ironic that my job's to lead my own men to the battlefield, but here I am now, mulling over the fact that I did the exact opposite."

"Now, as for the continuing operations...The good news is that the amount of men they've brought should be able to help out now that they're here..."

He then turned to Irene, who was still crouched in a fetal position but now sound asleep. "I'd really hate to see her go..." His eyes dance around the room as he tried to suppress any feelings for her. "Guess I'll just fill out a report saying she was killed along with Larkov."

"It would be for the best. . . I can't imagine she would be welcomed home once they discovered what she did. No need to worry, our psychic training corp is top notch for its age. . . we should have her rehabilitated as soon as we can get home." He looks over at the Vernii captian "though a better question is, should we return home. . ."

OOC: Conflict supplied.... :twisted:

PD computers noted the energy peak in the satellite in orbit over Danton, identified it as a threat source, and firing plans locked into the ship's fire control computers. Officers on the bridge were too slow to stop it, and a single 20 kiloton nuclear missile was loaded into one of the ships missile tubes and then launched. Ten seconds later it closed to within ten kilometers of the satellite and detonated.

"Sir! We just lost Valkyrie Two!"

"What?! How?!"

Within the hallowed halls of Ramadoon's underground complex, the whole staff of Extra-Atmospheric Command was thrown into a panic. Seconds prior to Valkyrie Two's disappearance, they had tracked a blip that quickly approached the cannon.

"We don't know...It...it could be a missile."

"Get Grier on the horn ASAP..."


-------


The call was placed minutes following the destruction of Valkyrie Two to Grier's outpost. He had no idea of what to make of it...Was it accidental? Maybe it was a planned first strike to destroy any hope of gaining an advantage over an advanced foe.


-------


Everything within range of the ship targeted their original target, and the aircraft were called back to prepare for a massive assault.


-------


Deep within the confines of the Danton, O'Neill's radio crackled to life. On the other end was the gruff voice of General Grier, pissed off as hell and ready to send out the word to fire at will.

"Colonel! Tell me what the HELL is going on there!" The Colonel fumbled for the phone and glared suspiciously at his colleagues.

"General?"

"Valkyrie Two's just been hit, and it looks like the projectile came from the ship! Five minutes until we commence fire, so get out if you can."

He looked up at Katsuragi, then Douglas. "Gentlemen, care to tell me what he's talking about?"

Mincer S2: ICBM launch! Aiko four, makah six, plus kah four! It's heading...
Mincer S1: I've got it. Heading to orbit... What's the projected landing?
Mincer S3: I've lost it. Too high... Crosslinking to ISCAN.
Mincer S3: Okay, it detonated in low orbit. Looks like it killed a EMP satellite... dunno whose.
Mincer Leader: Probably Ramadoon's.

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

The aircraft continued to cruise around the Ramadoon vehicles.
Mincer S1: Those tanks are warming up again...

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

Makala looked up. "Tell your General that if he attacks this ship he's in trouble."
Makala: If any of the Ramadoon vehicles fires on a ship, you have my permission to attack.

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

Mincer Leader: You heard her. 1-20, Wreckers, drop to 200 and see if you can find some command vehicles to target. 21-50, give them some air cover from 1,000. Sensors, fall back with me. Everyone else come with Sensors and me until the EMPs arrive.

hmm, fools Erika though to herself, watching the situation unfold rapidly. I may not have access to the heavier weapons while the captain is alive, but perhaps. . . perhaps I can eunich this attack before they get much further. . .

The three remaining PD guns swiveled, targeting the nearest tank batalion.

lets see how your tanks work when boiled. . . she said, a taint of mania in her voice, as if it were on the verge of laughter. She opened a transmition to the comand center on site, sending a voice only message.

Gentlemen, gentlemen, gentlemen. . . I think that mobilizing is a bad idea right now she said, sitting on an the side of a console you see that tank sitting over there? the one that's crew is running towards it? she said, her monitor straining to pinpoint the vehicle for targeting I think you should take a long hard look at it The PD lasers opened fire, sending continues streams of burning light through the air against its armored bulk because if you attack, then all of your tanks will follow suit a stifled, deranged laugh of sheer glee escaped as shot after shot struck the tank.

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

"What? I don't know what you are talking about" Katsuragi said, just as his data pad vibrated in his pocket, informing him of new data. He pulled it out, scanning quickly his ship's readouts, before setting it down with a resigned sigh. He slid it over to O'Neil as an image from the ship's bridge appeared, Erika's holigram laughing between bursts of obseneties in Takian towards the view screen, pictures of the unfolding attack on the lone tank filling it.

((OOC: Sorry if I haven't been able to post for a while. I blame it on school))

O'Neill reached for the Comms unit, barking loudly into the mouthpiece. "Grier, what the fuck is going on! I told you to call back the hounds, and then you do this?!"

The transponder crackled to life with the General's response. "You should be asking our comrades the same thing...We just lost a satellite minutes ago, and it looks like the missile that hit it came from there. So much for 'we come in peace.'"

What the hell was happening? He thought. A double-cross? The colonel turn to Katsuragi and glanced frantically at the datapad that was handed over to him. "Oh my God..."


-------


"Jesus Christ! Bail, bail, bail!" The commander within the tank yelled at his crew which was already struggling to escape through the top hatch. A few more bursts from that damned cannon and the armor would give in..."Somebody take out that thing!" It was the last thing he said, before the tank burst in a fireball of shrapnel--only one of the three crewmembers managed to get out, but even he wasn't too fortunate. The explosion sent him flying, and within a half-second, lying unconscious and burnt beyond recognition on the ground.

"Fire at will! Fire at will! Target any weapons platforms you see!"

The the salvo of 20mm fire boomed successively as each tank fired off a round. They were all accurate to within a centimeter of their targeting reticule...

Meanwhile, swarms of F-15's and F-14's flew above them as cover against the Khrrck ships.

"Angel Leader, do not provoke an attack unless they are a clear and present danger."

"Roger that, Command." McQueen responded. The Angry Angels were the vanguard squadron leading the rest of the bees...


-------


O'Neill almost fell on his rear end at the initial barrage, but he managed to hold on to his walkie talkie. "Grier! Hold your goddamn fire! Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" An Elite Guard picked him up by the elbow.

"Sir, permission to haul ass!"


-------


Miles above the atmosphere, the three remaining satellites began to converge towards the prescribed coordinates of the ship...It was the best way to end the conflict with little casualties on all sides.

Grier hoped that the satellites would do their job--even if just one of them was able to disable the ship's weapons, he'd be happy. But if worse comes to worse...No. He'd couldn't imagine his nation resorting to using The Bomb...

He chuckled, finding it ironic that he was once a proponent for its development.

Katsuragi stood his ground as the deck lurched under him from the impacts, years of experience kicking in instantly. He sighed as he pulled the Datapad in and started furriously working to shut off Erika's access to the heavy weapons. Tiny beads of sweat formed on his brow, as her mocking voice came over the tiny computer's speakers.

I'm afraid I can't let you do that Commander. . . your actions lead me to belive you've been compromised, I am activating all remaing weapons systems and preparing for full retaliatory strike

"oh like Hell. . ." he said, trying in vain to get the computer to accept his password.

"O'Neil, I hope to God you've got an idea. . ."

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

**TSA Ship, The Assisted Suicide**

The torpedeo tubes slid open, six of the scatter torpedeos loaded in and prepped electronicly for launch. The seventh remaning tube remained closed, the Takatanium Cold Fusion Bomb sitting inactive within it, While Erika worked diligently to hack through the firewalls, and activate it as if the Captain were dead. Three of the missiles streaked out, appearing as ICBMs to the uninitiated. They moved towards the incoming fighter squadron, side bays blown off, exposing 20 smaller, faster missiles, designed for anti-aircraft use. As they touched the fighter's radar coverage, they shook themselves apart, three targets becoming sixty contacts. Lock warnings came on in the cockpits, as the missiles started the process of targeting.

Mincer S1: Incoming! Three- no, SIXTY missiles!
Mincer Leader: Weave and dodge. Dump the blurring, it's not doing us any good. KILL THOSE MISSILE TUBES!

The fighters' formation shattered randomly, Novas and Songbirds flying off in all directions. They wavered and sharpened, sliding back into the realm of the visible.

Six of them weren't quick enough.
Mincer S3: We've lost 12, 13, 14, 54, 63 and 32!

The fighters swarmed towards the Assisted Suicide, weaving and dodging randomly. At 1.5 miles to target, they each fired three missiles at the Suicide's torpedo tubes, for a grand total of 198 missiles.

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

The Wyrms braced themselves as the shocks hit.
"You've got some explaining to do, O'Neill!" yelled Makala over the noise.

Point defence guns came online, filling the air with lances of burning light, the first pass alone wiping thirty of the incoming missiles from the sky. Erika strained in concentration, turning each of the three remaing guns against the missiles moving towards it. In the end, numbers won out, the missiles striking the hull and tearing snarling chunks from it. Already damaged weapons mounts above and below the torpedeo tubes were ripped out of thier sockets in the initial blast, and the ship's hull collapsed slightly, denting inward as the superstructure collapsed on one floor, pulled by the beached ship's own bulk. Tubes four five and six opened next, Erika waiting till the attackers had veared off. . . she wanted to assure they would not have anouther chance to repeat this insult. Three more of the scatters branched off, preparing to shake apart and releace sixty more missiles against the flylike attack craft.

[code:1:855ee46777]

Access granted, initiating emergancy protocal, use of Fusion Torpedeos has been authorized

[/code:1:855ee46777]

Erika smiled darkly as she targeted the Danton, sending a simple text message to Katsuragi

Goodbye she said, sending the same message, loading tubes one two and three with the near nuclear payloads.

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

Katsuragi stopped rubbing his temples for a moment, reguarding the message with an odd look for a moment. Three launch trails from his ship's external bays answered any questions, and after a quick calculation, his eyes widened.

"Everybody down!" He bellowed, the marines bracing for impact instinctivly, while the Guardsman grabbed the ambasadors and pulled them bodily down and away from anything that could potentialy go flying.

Danton went to General Quarters. Crewmen ran about through the ships passages and lift cars to their duty stations. Each of the ship's missile tubes were loaded and energy weapons were brought online. Captain Douglas ran to a nearby lift car and took it to the bridge. As it's doors opened, he walked quickly onto the bridge and dropped into his command chair. "Status report?"

"Ramadoon forces have engaged the Assisted Suicide, and it has fired upon both Ramadoonian and Khrrck forces." reported the ship's tactical officer, "Just a sec, detecting three more launches from the enemy ship...they are targetting us!"

"Fire an energy salvo into the enemy ship immediately!"

The battleships ten 300 centimeter lasers and fifteen 350 centimeter grasers took aim upon the Takan cruiser, and opened fire. PD lasers brought down two of the incoming missiles. The third smashed into the Danton where it connected to the ground, killing over a hundred crewmen. The shrieks of metal being stressed filled the air, and the battleship came crashing to the ground. Compensators took care off most of the shock, but crewmen all over the ship were knocked down as the ship slammed into the earth.

Katsuragi stood solemly as the room crashed around him. He felt the floor shift, as artificial gravity and Earth's gravity fought for dominance, and felt his feet give way. He toppled, and was sent sprawling against the back wall, his head striking it with a sickening thud. He fought for contiousness for a few moments, before blackness consumed him, and he fell into a deep sleep.

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

Erika glared as the shots came in, the first few striking and pushing through the already weakened absorbtion shields, allowing the rest to tear large gashes in the amored hull.

"Valkyries Three, Four, and Five are in position, sir. Ready to fire at your command."

"Get Three and Four concentrated on the Assisted Suicide and Five on the Danton."

"Initiating firing sequence..." The two crewmen in charge of synchronously turning the firing keys readied their wrists as they gripped onto them. "Three...two...one...Mark." With a click, the satellites fired their EMP bursts.


-------


The Takian anti-air missiles took out half the air power Ramadoon had in the sky...Only the highly skilled, or very lucky, survived the barrage. McQueen led them on their retreat, when the order was given.

"All remaining fighters...eject. I say again, eject." Within seconds, they all bailed, floating down like feathers to the hell below...


-------


The satellites' discharge was a heavenly sight...A blue beam fell from the heavens and struck both ships; the ensuing "blast" engulfed everything within a 50-mile radius. Everything from targeting computers, to electronic sensors, and even communications backpacks--basically anything electrical--were rendered useless.

The silence was deafening...


-------


O'Neill awoke to a sharp pain stabbing at him on his limbs. Upon closer inspection, he found that he had a laceration from the knee down, probably caused by falling debris when the ship began to fall apart. Slowly scanning his surroundings, he spotted the unconscious Katsuragi. With Herculean effort, the Colonel managed to lift the debris which immobilized him and approached the Captain. He bent down, wincing in pain, and shook him slowly.

"Captain...are you alive?"

"Ah, shkak."
Makala's voice drifted from underneath a pile of rubble. "My toolpack's crushed, my neural socket's fried, I can't move..."

Akram braced himself and levered the pile of ceiling material and girders off Makala. "Where's Hakiar?"

"Herre..." groaned Hakiar, from underneath what looked like half of the north wall.

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

Wyrms began ejecting from their cockpits, riding streamers of exhaust from their ejection couches.

Mincer Leader stared in shock at his controls. Computer gone, targeting gone, direct controls gone... the list went on and on. He sighed, and slapped the eject switch.

Katsuragi groaned, looking over the scene. Emergancy lighting switched on, throwing sharp shadows against the walls and debris.

"unfortunatly" he said, shaking his head gingerly, trying in vain to clear the cobwebs for the second time that day.

"We crashland on earth, first your scientist freaks out due to. . . contamination and tries to kill us, then your military tries to kill us, then MY SHIP tries to kill us. . . Emperor save us if anyone else decides to join our little party."

He tried to stand, but shooting pain stops him.

"no good. . . what is the status on my ship?" he asks.

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

Erika brooded, returned to her box inside the hardened computer systems. EMP. . . she thought bitterly, working desperatly to rewire herself through the handful of repair droids that were still functional.

you will pay for this she fumed as the ship slowly came back online, repair droids switching out fried circut breakers, fuses and replacing the few circuit boards that were overloaded to the point of physical damage.

"Are you guys going to be fine?" O'Neill shouted to the Khrrck's as he went to help Katsuragi to his feet, though he full well knew the physical prowess and durability the reptilians possesed. Bracing his uninjured leg on an overturned metal crate, he grips the latter's forearm to aid him in standing.

"What's the status out there?" He said to his transponder. No response. Not even a crackle. Banging the mouthpiece against the wall didn't help either. An Elite Guard shuffled to him, his helmet held under his arm. The Colonel noticed that its multi-spectrum HUD housed within the ocular pieces were either off or shorted out...

"I think they fired off an EMP, sir..."

"Then go outside and see what the hell's going on."


-------


"Valkyries Three, Four, and Five have finished charging up, General."

"Keep two of them concentrated on the same ship that blew up Two. Put out the word--no civilian and/or military electronics are to enter that region, lest they want them fried."

The blue light would encompass the two sites indefinitely for now...

Down at ground zero of the EMP blasts, every Ramadoon elite guard was reduced to wearing the simplest pieces of their armor since all the small hydraulics necessary for movement were rendered useless. Weapons were sparse too. Their pulse rifles, powered by controlled electric shocks, were practically jammed. For now, they had to revert to simple projectile weapons like 7.56mm rifles. The pilots who had bailed out were unfortunate to have only their flight suit and various types of handguns, ranging from 9mm to .45 parabellums.

Makala tilted her head. "Damn. My speaker's fried, too. Can you translate for me, Akram?"

Akram nodded, and she started to talk, the black Wyrm translating for her. "We'll be fine. At least, as fine as we can be after being hit by a wall. My implants are all fried."

Makala shrugged off the crumpled remains of her toolpack and began hauling pieces of rubble off of Hakiar. "Akram, why don't you go with that Guard and see what's going on? You can help cut through any rubble that might be in the way. Arak, come help me with this."

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

"Ah, shkak."
Mincer Leader stood up on his hind legs to peek over the grain. Pieces of aircraft littered the field; some of them had set fire to it. He absent-mindedly noted that Sensor Two had managed to land his Nova almost intact. Got to get him a job as test pilot or something. Anyone who can land a Nova at Mach 1 after losing all his electronics doesn't deserve to be in combat.

Well, time to round people up. Mincer Leader took a deep breath and yelled. "Mincers! Over here!"

"Well will you look at that..." As McQueen descended to the scattered (not to mention disabled) motorized battalions, he came upon the sight of hundreds, if not thousands of his men and Khrrck "paratroopers". From the ground, they looked like a bunch of locusts slowly fluttering to the ground. A few hundred yards away, he even spotted a Ramadoon pilot jokingly waving to a Khrrck not to far from him.


-------


"All battalion commanders, do not shoot upon the Khrrck if you are not under fire. I repeat, do not raise your barrels." The (de)motorized crews did as told and pointed down their rifles.

Closer to the ship, the scene was less tense. There was already a gathering of Ramadoon soldiers planning to fraternize with the Khrrck, seeing as their weapons were now useless...

Lights onboard the Danton winked out for a few seconds as the EMP hit it, then came back online. "Damage report?"

"The EMP blast actually did some electronic damage, we were unfortunate not to have shields up. Fire control for our energy weapons is down, although damage control estimates it'll have them back up and running in 10-15 minutes. Point defences are still up, but slightly reduced effectiveness. Otherwise everything looks fine, other then some minor problems with non-critical systems."

Katsuragi stands shakily, brushing himself off. He pulls the data pad, smacking it with no effect.

"we are still alive. . . that must be something worth celebrating. . ."

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

The drones dropped as the second EMP wave hit, Erika cursing under her breath.

this isn't the end. . . she fummed, [i]I will make you pay no matter how long it takes me.

The silver-scaled pilot nodded to the Ramadoon pilot who had waved at him, and continued towards Mincer Leader, over by the ship.

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

At the ship, the Wyrms were having a rather obvious communication problem. They understood English well enough, that was clear, but the few of them with speakers had all lost them to the EMP, so none of them could make the necessary sounds to speak it.

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

Akram shouldered his way through the Danton's corridors, shoving rubble out of the way or, when that wasn't possible, slicing through it with his sword.