NationStates Jolt Archive

Continued from the Galaxy Exploration Command reports thread (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?p=2880794#2880794)

(OOC: Feel free to TG me for details. Essentially, just wandering around, not wanting to make much trouble. First contacts a plus.)

10,000 kilometers from Saturn

I hope this goes better th

195 Light Years from Sol

an last time. Captain Nnoromele pauses with still breath, looking over to Lieutenant Commander Ryom Ok-myung, already working feverishly at her console. Even if the initial survey by Endeavour called it safe, she wasn't going to take any chances...

"Stellar activity within normal parameters, ma'am." Okk allows herself a gentle sigh of relief, leaning back into her seat with a smile. "Sensors read clear... we're safe for the moment."

"That's good." The captain relaxes, and the rest of the command room follows suit, glad that the past failed to repeat itself. Beagle transformed in an instant then, and it still shows in the very shape of her hull, the construction of her corridors... and yet the nerve center of the ship looks the same as it did six months ago. Most of the staff also looked the same... except for the helmsman. Lieutenant Dobbs--or, rather, the molecules that once composed him--were back recirculating through the ecosystem of Titan as per his wishes along with the components of a hundred and seventeen of his comrades.

Most of the crew--two hundred and ten, to be exact--remains, the rest having been lost: Dead, wounded, or out with Section Eight. All of the all guard sighed with relief, grinning to each other with the jump-complete all-clear... the new crew smiles nervously, sometimes chuckling.

They'd made it, and they'd never take it for granted again.

"FlightCom," Nnoromele begins, seeming overly chipper, "get exploration crews to One and Three and dispatch them to the last two planets in the system. Helm, set a course for the first planet."

"Acting, ma'am." Acknowledgements ring out across the bridge as a course is made and Beagle's gravitic drives hum into life, powering the ship towards its goal.

* - * - *

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/tmbbeagle2-orbiting.jpg (http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/beagle2-orbiting.jpg)

"Orbit achieved, ma'am." Lieutenant Simpson leans back from her helm console, tapping up an image of the planet below for the display.

"Excellent, Lieutenant." Nyom Nnoromele looks over to Ryom again. "Sensors?"

"Just like Endeavour said, ma'am. Fourteen point four million kilometers from the parent star, sixteen point three thousand kilometers in radius. Constituents read as a breathable oxygen-nitrogen-water vapor atmosphere over liquid hydrogen-helium. I'll get more accurate percentages in a moment, but I think we can generally accept Endeavour's findings."

Milovan Djukanovic, chief weapons officer, shakes his head. "A breathable atmosphere? How's that happen?"

Ryom shrugs. "I don't know, but there it is. Once we get some probes launched, I can take temperature readings." She looks expectantly at the captain.

"Do it," Nonye chuckles, "do it already."

"Acting, ma'am!" A grin and a push of a button.

TYRS-RCR Beagle
In Orbit, GECSS 18 I

"Probe data in... we have the usual temperature distributions expected for an atmosphere of this composition," Ryom says matter-of-factly, flipping a switch and displaying the temperature variation with altitude on a side monitor. "Temperatures are around two thousand Kelvin in the upper atmosphere, but the extremely high levels of water vapor cause a high level of cloud formation. The increased albedo reflects a lot of the starlight and each successive layer of cloud cover reflects more. Without the sort of heating that litho and hydrospheres heated by light absorption provides, temperature falls to the bearable three-hundred-kelvin range under... ah... the third layer of tropospheric clouds."

"Third layer?" Djukanovic scoffs. "I'm sure all that superheated air makes life really fun for trying to pilot through. The translation between temperature layers... convection... oh yeah, sounds like lots of fun."

"Admittedly, it's extremely turbulent in the upper atmosphere, but the convection currents are limited by atmosphere layers. Each transition between layers creates a sort of dead zone where the circulation gets small enough to be irrelevant. Still extremely windy in the upper layers, but it's an efficient way to transfer heat. The density differences also accelerate cloud formation, creating those wispy outer layers.

"After a few of these transitions, there's both upper-troposphere-level pressure and less extreme temperature variations, allowing for calmer circulations. That's where we get these thick layers of circulating clouds that do a good job of reflecting a lot of light back up."

"And two of those layers later..." Milo nods. "But as pressure increases, temperature should increase too."

"It does, but the energy absorbed by the atmosphere decreases dramatically after those three cloud layers. Gases are horrid at absorbing heat; that's what solid and liquids do best--which is why gases are used for insulation and fluids used for heat transfer--and even though the proximity to the star can overpower that in the upper layers, the albedo and subsequent reflection keep it limited to those upper layers."

"So... there's actually an inhabitable zone?" Captain Nnoromele raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, actually. It's always at least lightly overcast--unsurprisngly--but pressure and temperature seem suitable for life. It's about a thousand kilometers deep within the planet; the probe didn't stay there for long. We'd need to send an actual scout down for better info."

"Right." Milo scoffs again. "Just tell one of our Peregrin pilots to fly through two-kay-Kelvin temperatures and probably ludicrously turbulent airstreams just to take a peek at an area between clouds."

"Well..." The sensors officer shrugs. "We might as well, seeing how far we've come. We'll just have to think of a way to do it as safely as we can."

A few days later

"How are things progressing?" Nonye smiles softly, slowly pouring hot coffee from a metallic pot to her simple black ceramic mug. Across the utilitarian lines of the metal desk stands Ryom, sitting casually in the only other chair in the captain's office.

"Well," the lieutenant commander begins, "initial reports are coming in from the exploration Lokis we sent to investigate the other planets--you know, the usual--but other than that... I think I may have a solution on how to get down safely to the inhabitable levels."

"Excellent. Coffee?" The captain proffers the pot; the sensors officer gently raises one hand and shakes her head with a smile before continuing. "We have two options. We can either just push through on high-distort gravydrive--which we don't like because it makes navigation a bitch and we're just not sure what that does in the long run--or we can take advantage of the convection currents. Basically, we insert whatever we send down--be it a Loki or a Peregrin in with the airflow and then have it gently transition from circulation to circulation, like in a spiral or a sinusoidal manner." She draws a chain of Ss connected vertically in the air with one finger as she speaks. "Ride may still be bumpy because of the flow involved, but that way we can minimize the turbulence we'd get by just forcing through layers."

"Makes sense. Find two pilots crazy enough to do it and brief them. I'd like a proper two-ship element of Peregrins to go down, just in case. They're more maneuverable and can test your theory... although I think a Loki would be more stable, we can't afford to lose one. Give the pilots express permission to abort if they think it's a crazy idea."

Ryom nods. "Unsurprisingly, the atmosphere around the poles seems a lot gentler because Coriolis doesn't play as much a part there. Those will be our best options to enter; once we reach the layer we want it should be sufficiently clear and relatively normal for a span of about fifty kilometers."

"Except for the part of there being no ground," Nonye chuckles.

* - * - *

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/tmbperegrin-clouds.jpg (http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/peregrin-clouds.jpg)

Flight Sergeant Hamilton brings his delta-winged craft level in a leisurely bank, easily keeping up with the lead Peregrin deep within the cloudy blanket that enshrouds the planet. "Well, that was fun. I thought they said that a polar insertion would be less tricky."

"They did, Shark," replies Lieutenant Nienty from the lead plane, "but look at it this way--we're the first fighter pilots to be this deep into a gas giant without the usual deadifying effects. Records like that are only made at risk."

"True, true." Hamilton looks around, bluish-grey clouds reflecting off the visor of his flight helmet. "Pretty looking, though."

"Very much so."

((Hey, if you're just wandering around, do you want to make contact with the Aurora system, a very sparsely colonized system? It would be appreciated if you could help me flesh out the actual stats for the planets.))

(OOC: I might get there eventually... but sure, why not? I use this random generator (http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/randomplanet.xls) to come up with stuff like that. I suppose I can have Endeavour show up.)

((Ok, cool, whenever you want, just say you're approaching some system or whatnot and I'll hop on my puppet.))

TYRS-SCT Endeavour
Somewhere quite a long ways away

Lieutenant Commander Norton MacDonald leans back in his chair in Endeavour's smallish command room as he brushes off that slight twinge of gastrointenstinal discomfort bursting through twelve-dimensional loopholes tends to give him. Nodding to the helmsman--one of four people in the room--he starts with the usual string of new-system orders. "Helm, set us on a transit course insystem; Science, perform situational awareness scans and prepare to launch probes at any planets of interest."

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/tmbendeavour-7clock.jpg (http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/endeavour-7clock.jpg)

The small scoutship powers up its gravydrives and slowly begins to move insystem.

((Gravydrives. Awesome. And just so there's no confusion, this is Cyber.))

As the Endeavour closes in on the system, three planets become evident. The most hospitiable looking of the three is a mostly water planet, dotted with archipelagoes of land throughout. A fair amount of traffic can be seen around this watery planet, and garbled radio signals are randomly picked up by the scout ship. The ship comes closer, and a trio of what appear to be fighters -- though they resemble flying junkyards more than anything -- peel off and hail the Endeavour.

"We're getting coherent radio traffic from the third planet... doesn't sound natural at all." The 'bridge' sensors officer frowns. "We're also picking up two incoming contacts... relatively low mass, are registering as powered."

"We're being hailed, sir." The communication systems operator looks over his shoulder. "At least, I think we are."

"Um..." MacDonald scratches his chin. "Are they saying anything?"

"Seems just like a carrier wave at the moment. The signals we're getting from insystem are too jumbled to make out."

"Well... it's worth a chance, then. If we are really, really, really lucky they'll speak English. Helm, prepare for first contact contingency."

"Ahead of you, sir." The navigator grins. "Navigation cores, maps, and all references to the Sol system are on standby to be dumped. Recorders are on full. If they're hostile, we'll give them no leads."

"All right." The lieutenant commander coughs. "Comms?"

An audible click of the transmit switch cues the commander to continue. "This is Lieutenant Commander MacDonald of the Triumvirate of Yut Research Ship Endeavour on a peacful exploration survey mission. We wish to communicate further. Please respond."

Another click and the 'transmitting' light goes off. "How was that?" Norton asks meekly, "it's my first time doing something like this."

"I dunno, sir. Sounded fine." The communications technician shrugs.

"We'll see," mutters the helmsman.

A quick burst of incoherant radio traffic shoots between the three fighters for a moment as they sit idly in space, before a communications channel is opened with the Endeavour with a sharp click.

"Ah...Tryumvrate! You on...ah...peaceaful mission? That good, vety good. Welcome to tha...ah...Aurora System, yes!" The voice responds, laced heavily with an Asian accent.

"Well, they speak English." MacDonald thinks for a moment. "Must be a multiversal splinter colony thing. Oh well, that's what we're here to learn. Comms?"

Click.

"Thank you. We wish to learn more about your people and your history. Can you help us?" Palm slashed under his chin.

Click.

"Yay for playing Starflight," MacDonald mutters.

OOC:

Scolopendra, check TeleGrams pwease. :)

After a long pause, the pilot responds. "Um...yes, history, yes. Well...see, our...colony...ship's data banks, they got 'rased. Only tha Ancients remeber the...ah...history, as you say. Tha Ancients, they say we come from Earth nation, they say we come from Earth nation Cyberutopia. We don' know anything ourselves, though. Only know what Ancients know. When all Ancients dead, we might forget everyting. We try to protect our Ancient, our Ancient be Kwa Sunoba. Others, they try to take our Ancient, to get more history, 'specially Red Lightning Clan. We no try to steal history, we too pressured to defend our holdings. Ancient stealing vety bad, vety looked down upon, but some, bad some, do anyway. Our Aurora system, she always lit with the lights of war. Miserable state we are in, miserable."

Following the convoluted conduits of the grapevine, rumor that the Beagle had been sent to GECSS18 reached a lowly Comm Officer on Iapetus, who just happened to know a Waterminer named Lt. Bachran, that being the same Bachran who was now retired after having worked at the ESEC for Dr. Helmer, who himself was notified by Bachran, and recalled that Dr. Miren had some experience with gas giants....

Where would be if everything actually went through official channels? though Dr. Miren as the Science Vessel Farspace II departed from the Down South silo complex.

Some hours later, the trilaterally symmetric, vaguely Aerobee-shaped Science Vessel exited an Alcubierre-Broeck bubble near the breathable gas giant. Miren quickly aligned the transmitter and opened a channel to the Beagle.

Greetings! This is Dr. Miren commanding the SEACTO Science Vessel Farspace II. Considering that there is a possibility of encountering indigenous life, and the fact that I have some experience with these sorts of planets, I feel I may be of some use to you, over.

Endeavour
"Miserable state we are in, miserable."
"Oh, great," the helmsman mutters, "we got ourself stuck in a splinter-colony war."

Nod and click. "Sorry to hear that... Ancients? Extremely old inhabitants, I presume? Is there some way we can talk to them? Oh, and if you want to know more about us, feel free to ask." Slash and click. "Sensors, check the computer for information on a 'Cyberutopia' nation. Let's see what's going on here."

Beagle
Greetings! This is Dr. Miren commanding the SEACTO Science Vessel Farspace II . Considering that there is a possibility of encountering indigenous life, and the fact that I have some experience with these sorts of planets, I feel I may be of some use to you, over.
Captain Nonye Nnoromele, TYRS-RCR Beagle. We've managed to send down a few fighter reconnaissance flights and haven't found anything of the sort yet, but then again there's no place to set down and look. Still, your experience is appreciated. What are we looking for?

Captain Nonye Nnoromele, TYRS-RCR Beagle. We've managed to send down a few fighter reconnaissance flights and haven't found anything of the sort yet, but then again there's no place to set down and look. Still, your experience is appreciated. What are we looking for?
Well, every place is different, but there are three rules of thumb, I've found. I suggest looking for large updrafts in otherwise relatively calm areas, especially those that show large amounts of hydrocarbons and amines in their spectra, dark spots on UV and IR maps, and signs of chemical disequilibrium. Methane is usually a good indicator, as are hydrogen sulphide and sulphur dioxide, over.

((Do you want some info about Cyberutopia the liars in the UN wouldn't put in the report?))

Another quick burst of transmissions between the three fighters. The Endeavour might have picked up something along the lines of "help" and "technology."

"Ah, hmm...see Ancient? You have to talk to ou' leada' 'bout that. Come down to surface with us, we take you talk to him." The lead fighter peeled away, the other two following. "He ask you tings, we not in place to question visitors."

Beagle

Rodger. We've determined a method of safely reaching the inhabitable portions of the gas giant by carefully spiraling along the convection currents along the poles. We'll send down an exploration Loki to investigate further; you're free to send anyone over that you'd like.

Endeavour
(OOC: Sure, but remember that it'd come from having minimal diplomatic contact with Cyberutopia.)

Click. "Gladly. Just give us a minute or two." Click. "Okay, what should we do here?"

"The tech's pretty jumbled together... but we are just a scoutship." The sensors operator frowns. "Our weapons are kinda a secondary priority."
"Well... we got a Scarab," the helmsman offers, "maybe you should go down in that?"

"No, not yet." MacDonald shakes his head. "Helm, follow those small craft and keep power to the drives so we can escape if need be. I'm not going to risk landing Endeavour; if I need to make planetfall I'll take the shuttle and some of the gibs."

"Fair enough."

The distinctly aerodyne vessel falls in behind the three boxy fightercraft, maintaining a respectful distance.

The three fighters continued on at a steady pace towards the expansive water planet that held most of the system's traffic.

The lead pilot shot down a quick transmission to what was apparently the territories his clan held. "Dis is Heaven Squadron. We have present for tha leada'. Visitors coming to...oh! We being hacked!"

Simultaniously with that shocked message, several small missiles impacted on one of the fighter's sides, transforming it into a rapidly whirling bluish fireball. The other two fighters rocked with the explosion, but were unscathed.

"Go! Get down to planet! We cover! These ah brutal, pirates, you have no chance with them." The pilot sent urgently, before turning towards a sleek red cruiser that had snuck around to ambush them.

Lasers lanced out from the fighters to slam into an invisible field about the pirate cruiser, almost certainly in vain.

Rodger. We've determined a method of safely reaching the inhabitable portions of the gas giant by carefully spiraling along the convection currents along the poles. We'll send down an exploration Loki to investigate further; you're free to send anyone over that you'd like.
Very good. We just dropped in at Blue Dwarf, but that one had a somewhat calmer atmosphere... I'm not sure you'll find much at the poles, airflow is usually more prevalent in the down direction there, very not good for floaters. And it'll be heck trying to get past the Polar Wind Wall into central latitudes if we need to. Then again, every planet is different, and I've only just arrived. If it's inclination is large enough wind patterns might reverse... I hear that's the case on Labyrinth... then again, it would cause global flow in one direction, so polar airflows would shift every year... well, enough of my speculation, can I get a summary of global gas distribution and wind patterns? If you don't have all that, I've got suitable instruments aboard to discover it. If you'll have it, I'd like to send over a shuttle in about an hour. Oh, and just FYI, this baby's pretty sturdy if you find you need another in-atmosphere craft, over.

Endeavour

"Damn!" Norton activates the dials on his board, transferring emergency power requests to shields and movement to combat footing. "Helm, follow their lead. We may be able to outrun a cruiser, but I very much doubt we can fight them. Sensors, kick a probe out the back so we can get more data on that ship's capabilities."

With a few terse syllables of acknowledgement, the indicated crew perform their tasks. Endeavour dips down to follow the fighters to the surface as inside, weapon capacitors charge, rounds slide into coils awaiting energization, and kinetic homing missiles thunk into tubes. Nothing capital-grade, to be sure, but more than enough for anything smaller than a heavy dropship.

Beagle

Surprisingly enough, the static layers between the major convection currents are relatively stable and transitioning from poles to equator in them isn't overly difficult. We'll gladly accept your shuttle and will actually delay launching our Loki until we have it aboard, actually. Known atmospheric data are hacked to this transmission. Beagle, out.

Anyone watching from the Endeavour would see return fire strike one of the fighters' wings, shearing it completely from the body. Miracilously, the fighter remained stable, whipping around from the pirate cruiser with it's compatriot and streaking past the scout ship towards the surface. The cruiser turned its attention to the Endeavour, firing a volley of missiles.

Surprisingly enough, the static layers between the major convection currents are relatively stable and transitioning from poles to equator in them isn't overly difficult. We'll gladly accept your shuttle and will actually delay launching our Loki until we have it aboard, actually. Known atmospheric data are hacked to this transmission. Beagle, out.
That is most strange... I shall look forward to talking in person. Farspace out.

After skimming over the atmospheric data, Miren floated off the bridge and into the planetology lab. Picking out another crewman as companion, the two got the necessary supplies together and launched the shuttle, leaving the ship in the hands of the remaining three crewmen.

Endeavour

"Inbound," the helmsman grimaces, "ten seconds to impact. Attempting to evade." He pulls his controls hard to port, rolling and curling the ship in jinking evasive maneuvers.

"Ack. Fire control," MacDonald trips a relay on his console and dictates an order, "pulses on anti-missile; missiles on counter-battery but hold fire."

Acting, sir, the intercom buzzes, and computer-assisted field-scale large pulse e-masers--coherent broadband electromagnetic energy weapons--begin spraying energy ranging from gamma to infrared towards the incoming missiles. Meanwhile, the scoutship's computers build firing solutions against the enemy cruiser, compensating for the jinking movement of the scoutship.

"Five seconds."
"Comms, hail that cruiser." Click. "This is the Triumvirate of Yut scoutship Endeavour. We have no quarrel with you; stand down." Slash and click. "Fire Control, prepare to retaliate if the shields and armor hold..."

Beagle

A Loki dropship outfitted with an exploration pod of additional sensors and laboratories disengages from Beagle's hull, slowly moving to intercept the Eniqciri shuttle. Taking it aboard, they are greeted by a pale-skinned man of moderate height and brown hair with a slightly rough complexion and a lighter build. "I'm Doctor Kampas, head meteorologist of Beagle. Glad to meet you, doctor."

Most of the crude missiles streak right by the Endeavour, their tracking systems all but fried. A couple of the missiles are lucky hits, blossoming against the scout ship's shields and sending small rumbles throughout the ship, but without the power required to penetrate it's defenses.

"No!" Came the angered reply to the Endeavour. "Your hide is ours! We rule this space!"

A flurry of bright light struck the pirate cruiser's shields, an opaque orb surrounded the ship as it's shields strained to compensate. A pair of frigates closed in on the cruiser, weapons blazing. The cruiser turned and made all haste in the opposite direction, suffering from little more than wounded pride.

The lieutenant commander sighs and rolls his eyes. "Helm, bring us back into orbit, preferably away from those frigates. Comms..." Click. "Thanks for helping us out there, but we honestly have no idea what the..."--momentary pause--"no idea what's going on. We're really, really honored that everyone's made the trip to come and see us but I'd prefer it if the knives stay sheathed at the moment.

"Will someone please tell me what in the name of all that is good and holy is going on?"

A transmission came through from one of the frigates, in a clipped and precise tone. "Certainly. You're being fought over by the various, more powerful clans that have sectioned off Aurora Prima. As the first visitors to the Aurora system, such is to be expected. Your ship will probably be savaged for new technology by these barbarians. We're delegates from the Imperial Dragonate, the most ordered of those on this world, and we've been sent out to escort you to a more secure area, away from the hot spot you're currently floating in."

Miren, in blue flight suit reached out to shake Kampas's hand.
"Likewise, glad to be aboard." Taking a step back he motioned to the brown-suited man next to him "This is Doctor Bharan, xenobiologist. If you don't mind, I think we'd like to get straight to whatever planetology labs you have aboard. I've brought along a list of parameters we'll want to look for."
Miren reached two fingers into his breastpocket, pulled out a folded sheet of paper, and handed it to Kampas.
"Fairly standard life-zone definitions, but it'll be subject to a lot of updating as we gather more information on the planet."
Written in pencil on the paper in carefully formed roman letters was a list of temperature/pressure ranges, wind patterns, gas concentrations, etc. some marked on the right with a small 'bds', the rest marked 'g'.

Endeavour

"Comms, just patch over control to my console." Norton leans over to flip an intercom switch. "Fire Control, weapons and shields on standby. Move to Event Condition One."

"Acting, sir." The communications officer flips a few switches. "Executive control transferred, panel three."

"Thanks." Endeavour's commander looks over his console, finds the transmit button, and depresses it with a soft click. "Thank you for the assistance, Imperial Dragonate vessels. If you haven't already heard, I am Lieutenant Commander MacDonald of the Triumvirate of Yut Research Ship Endeavour on what was a peaceful mission of exploration. Thanks for the offer for escort, but please don't mind if we keep our distance. Now that we know that we've stepped into a balkanized area, we're going to be rather careful.

"Now... the fighter squadron that escorted us in originally said something about Ancients and that this system is a splinter colony of Cyberutopia. Now, they didn't introduce who they were, and I can figure that the cruiser was from the 'Red Lightning Clan,' and you've identified yourself. What other players do we have to look out for?"

Loki-class dropship Beagle-Three

Doctor Kampas nods, looking over the sheet of notes. "Planetology labs... alright. I know the Major is going to fly this bird into the breathable zone; because we're being careful and we're taking our time it should take an hour or so to transition through the polar layers. Please follow me... and along the way, we can discuss these notes here."

As technicians secure the Eniqciri shuttle inside the Loki's hangar bay, Kampas leads the two through the dropship's utilitarian halls, leading down several decks to universal docking clamps and their attendant airlocks, leading into the exploration mission-adaptable mass pod slung under the fuselage. More metal corridors with form following distantly behind function, until he opens a bulkhead door to reveal a largish room resembling a control tower or a CIC room.

"This," he says, sweeping an arm to indicate the technicians at work at their boards and the multiple monitors keyed into various telescopes, peering at the planet, "is the Central Data Center, or what you could call 'planetology.' It has feeds to all departments, from astronomy to geology, with streaming links to telescopes, radars, spectrometers, gravitic sensors, probes, various sensors along the hull... what have you. If we can possibly collect the information, it will be here."

As they walked, Miren took advantage of the invitation to discuss these notes here.
"You see, in the few examples we have... well, two examples, anyway... areas of predominantly downward air movement are rather sparse, whereas minor updrafts are far more populous. More turbulent updrafts seem to be inhabited exclusively by sinker-type organisms, but of course there aren't many of those in the habitable zone you've identified. I'm rather curious to find out why there's little Polar Wind Wall effect, but that's only remotely related to biology. Now then, of course the entire atmosphere is in extreme chemical disequilibrium, all that oxygen floating about and whatnot, but I've listed here a few anomolies to look for that should indicate just what kind of life we'll be encountering- and you can be almost positive we will encounter something if we look long enough. Oxygen doesn't just sit around by itself without something producing it. Methane, formaldehyde, sulphur dioxide... well, you can read the list. And, of course, high concentrations of organic macromolecules."

On entering the Data Center, Bharan chuckled a bit. "Sorry, just... geology. It seems rather funny that we have geology equipment for studying a gas giant."
"You never know. This looks very impressive, very impressive. Most useful, I hope. Spectrometers should be of particular utility."

"Understood, Lieutenant Commander. Your assumations so far are correct. There are several dozen other, smaller fring groups, but the only other significant regime is that of The Shogunate. The Shoguns are a highly militarized group, by far the most powerful, as far as numbers go, in their military capabilities. They're prone to aggressive behavior, and will most likely attack a forgien vessel such as yours on sight." Came the transmission from the Dragonate frigates.

Beagle-Three

Kampas smirks. "We have geology input because the CDC is designed to be used no matter what planet we happen to be studying. Still, as you say, spectrometry will be most useful. We'll take in readings as we transit to the pole, then concentrate our search on whatever locations seem to match our best chances."

(OOC: Feel free to help make stuff up from this point out.)

Endeavour

"Right," MacDonald replies, "and so I think it'd be best if we keep our distance for now. I'm willing to send a representative on a shuttle to meet someone who doesn't feel like either shooting us or tolchocking us for technology, and we're a bit too new to the area to know exactly who that is. No offense intended."

Norton presses the button with a soft click, killing the microphone. "Comms, send a message to GECHQ informing them that system S47109 is not only inhabited but balkanized. Send them a summary of what we know at the moment and request the assistance of whatever RCS is tasked with fast-GEC-response at the moment."

"Acting, sir."

"Helm, move Endeavour to a Trojan orbit antecedent of the waterworld. Sensors, active everything short of targeting equipment. I want to know if anything shows up."

"Acting."

The lieutenant commander toggles the button again. "We're going to move to a suitably paranoid spot to watch everybody. I really do want to talk to you further, but all this gun-blazing stuff has to stop."

[edit: The Loki changed names... had to fix]

((Quick question. What's a Trojan orbit?))

"That would be wise, Lieutenant Commander." Comes the Dragonate reply. "Your actions are fully understood, no excuses need to be made. We are open to your questions at anytime. We will maintain position nearby. However, the longer you remain in an open position, the greater the chance there will be a major incursion either against or for you."

A Devilish Zero-G combat unit floated aimlessly above the planet's surface, externally silent. It's interior circuits buzzed with activity, relaying messages concerning the small-scale conflict that erupted in front of it...

'Transmitting... Estimated five space-faring vessels engaged in hostile action above Collective homeworld. Scanning: Vessels contain humanoid lifeforms as described by Collective 03 residing on NS Earth. Lifeforms composed of around seventy percent hydrogen/oxygen mixture. Molecular scan indicates carbon-based molecular structure...

The unit pivoted on its small solid-fuel rocket jets, then sped towards the surface of the planet. Below, under the cloud cover, a dozen or so Drone units clawed at the surface, digging new ore mines to aid in the production of combat units. Deep in the crust resided Collective 02, a set of three Devilish AI constructs that co-ordinated the activities of nearly every unit on the planet, their orders relayed from Commander units with AI intellects slightly above that of the average Grunt unit. ACU & AEU possesed advanced AI intellects that gave them their titles: Autonomus Combat Unit & Autonomus Extermination Unit. Hunter units sat motionless in the lush trees, blending with the environment, railguns ready to incapacitate or kill anything deemed hostile by the supervising Commander units...


OOC: The Devilish aren't friendly. They are a race of intelligent machines & seek only to eliminate the 'inefficient' biological races from the galaxy. They infest a single planet at a time, by launching a Collective capsule that uses the impact of re-entry to burrow into the crust of the selected planet, safe from orbital bombardment & from natural hazards like rain. The planet's ore & fuel supplies are completely exsausted, then the Collective transmits to the Supreme Collective that their mission is complete. They then lay dormant for the final strike against biological beings across the universe, whenever that might be.

If you choose to be aggressive with this small outpost, aim for the red-armored Commander units. Without them, the Grunt, Hunter, Gunner, and Bomber units are much less co-ordinated and much less effective.

Kampas smirks. "We have geology input because the CDC is designed to be used no matter what planet we happen to be studying. Still, as you say, spectrometry will be most useful. We'll take in readings as we transit to the pole, then concentrate our search on whatever locations seem to match our best chances."
"Very good. Doppler radar and/or Ladar should be useful, too."
Miren started looking over wind patterns, identifying wich cloud bands carried predominantly upward and which carried predominantly downward motion, the focusing on individual cells. Shuttling the information over to Bharan, the best matches were scanned by the spectrometers, ultimately locating three sites with elevated levels of methane and ammonia in addition to elevated UV absorbtion.

(OOC: Feel free to help make stuff up from this point out.)
(Including cool aliens?)
((Quick question. What's a Trojan orbit?))
(An orbit around the L4 or L5 points, at the same distance from the sun as a planet, but offset by 60 degrees.)

((Thank you Eniqcir. Devillish Collective, that's a cool idea, but how easy are these "Collective" things to detect? Don't expect too much resistiance against your Collective right away, as the inhabitants of the planet are more concerned with fighting each other.))

((Thank you Eniqcir. Devillish Collective, that's a cool idea, but how easy are these "Collective" things to detect? Don't expect too much resistiance against your Collective right away, as the inhabitants of the planet are more concerned with fighting each other.))

OOC: The collective can be detected through electronic scanning. The Drone units usually stay close to the entrance to the collective area, as they are programmed to rely on cover if attacked. Given time, the area will spread to include numerous underground tunnels & manufacturing rooms.

I fully expect this small outpost to be wiped out by opposing forces. I created this nation because every RP needs good cannonfodder villans. The Grunt, Gunner, Hunter, Bomber, and Commander units are easy enough to destroy. EMP, violent blunt force trama, or energy weapons will effectively knock them out of comission. Ballistic weapons will take several shots, and will require armor piercing ammunition. Shots that penetrate the viewplates will destroy the mainframe & effectively disable the robot. Devilish units stand at about 4'6", and have square heads that posess triangular viewplates. I'll provide a sketch ASAP.

It's MS BTW.

Beagle-Three
(in a totally different star system)

The Loki slowly spirals down through the clouds and currents, leveling out in the inhabited zone and breaking through the weak Polar Wall to cruise towards the locations identified by the Eniqciri. Its sensors probe as it can, supported by those aboard Beagle, telescopes searching for visual evidence of anything among the clouds.

(OOC: Yes, including cool aliens.)

Endeavour
(blissfully unaware)

"And while we're in the open, we can run whenever we see it coming. I'm willing to dispatch a shuttle over to your vessels so we can talk... hrm... maybe a meeting midway? That seems to be making a lot of sense in my paranoid mind right now."

"That is acceptable, Lieutenant Commander, you are the visitor here." The Dragonate frigate sent back.

A small craft disembarked from the frigate, and halted midway between the frigates and the Endeavour.

---

A heavily armed patrol marched nearby the Collective hive. It seems as though the Collective had landed in Shogunate territories.

(OOC: Yes, including cool aliens.)
W00t.

Beagle-Three
(in a totally different star system)

The Loki slowly spirals down through the clouds and currents, leveling out in the inhabited zone and breaking through the weak Polar Wall to cruise towards the locations identified by the Eniqciri. Its sensors probe as it can, supported by those aboard Beagle, telescopes searching for visual evidence of anything among the clouds.
"Hey, over there! Dark blotch!"
"Eh? All looks white and orangy to me."
"Oh, whoops! I'm lookin' at the UV spectrum. Lessee, visual... aha! Bharan, right there! Dr. Kampas, this looks interesting. That discolored orange band, it shows up darker than the surroundings on UV. Can we get a higher magnification on visual?"
Miren leaned close to the monitors, carefully picking out every minutes detail. "Aha! There, something moved! And there, again, looks like something solid. Could just be an image artifact, though. Best if we can swing over for a closeup. And along the way, can we take some samples from that cloud?"

A heavily armed patrol marched nearby the Collective hive. It seems as though the Collective had landed in Shogunate territories.

Hunter units began to aquire targets, scanning the molecular structure of the approaching units, picking out weaknesses in their biological makeup, as well as in their protective garments. The nearby Commander unit broadcast a 'halt' signal, preventing the Hunter units from firing. The Commander unit crouched behind a nearby boulder, aquiring a target for its own 10mm autopistol. It would fight only if needed, the Collective was vulnerable at this stage, as there where no Grunt units on site. Collective 03 had deemed it nessecary that all homeworld materials be used to construct Hunter & Drone units, as well as a single Commander unit to supervise them all. The Drones' scanners located the approaching units, triggering their evasion program. Drones where capable of combat, as they where armed with a pair of three-clawed 'hands' that where used to dig as well as manipulate their environment.

The Drones retreated within the Collective's tunnel, as a single ACU unit emereged. The ACU was a gunmetal grey in color, armed with a pair of autopistols, as well as an NAU, or Nanite Adaptation Unit. The NAU was a backpack-like attatchment to the back panel of the Devilish unit, and stored scematics for scanned weapons & tools. The nanite portion could use the current armament to create the needed armament or tool on demand, in a span of about ten seconds.

The Commander unit might have felt relief if emotions had been programmed into his AI, as an ACU was more than capable of wiping out a patrol of primitively-armed biologicals...

OOC: I'm assuming these 'Shogunate' troops are around that tech level, with metal armor & melee weapons, possibly a bow or two. Am I correct?

((Hehehe. No, it's not going to be that easy. More like a combination of WWII and Cold War tech.))

The Commander set the 'fire' radius at eighty feet, allowing it to focus more on other duties. The Hunters would fire if anything entered their eighty-foot bubble, and the Drone units returned to digging.

The ACU unit stood motionless & silent. The twin autopistol loadout vanished in a grey cloud, replaced by the trademark Devilish blade-fingers, basically a hand with five 14-inch-long, razor-edged 'fingers' with a vibration generator located at the base of each 'finger'. Such a weapon could bisect a human when combined with the mechanical strength of a Devilish unit. The fingers where simply blades, and could not bend to graps or manipulate objects, but a fifth blade acted as a thumb of sorts, and was situated in the same location as a human thunb, although it was not able to bend. Moments later, the ACU was joined by a trio of Grunt units, armed with the same blade-finger configuration that was standard on all Grunt models.

The Grunts fanned out, approaching the Hunter units to act as defensive units while the Hunters reloaded their weapons, if the approaching unit came within the set distance limit. The ACU followed, it would act as an assault unit in the event of combat, diving into the fray. The armor plating on all Devilish units was designed to be able to stop most calibers of firearms, up to a .50 caliber round. Lasers & explosive ammunition where especially effective, as was EMP...

The man walking point heard something move in the dense foilage. He crouched, and the rest of the squad did as well. The leader moved up to the point man, and they whispered quietly for a few moments in a soft and complex language. Eventually, they decided on a course of action, and the point man moved slowly into the brush, as the others, about fourteen in all, took up positions to cover the point.

There was a sharp buzzing, zinging noise, lasting a fraction of a second, and the point man's head vanished in a cloud of bone fragments & brain matter, his neck a smoking stump. Hunter unit 000006 had made the first kill of the day, as the man crossed into the eighty-foot free-fire zone. The other five units began to aquire targets, seeing the probable course of action of the intruders was to indulge their natural biological curiosity & investigate what had killed their friend.

There had been no flash, fume emission, or tracer trail, simply the odd noise of a Devilish railgun in operation. Hunter unit 000006 reloaded its weapon with another 40mm soft lead slug. The newer 40mm railguns packed more of a punch, but where heavier & fired bulky ammunition. The previous 10mm models had been effective by biological standards, with a 93% kill ratio. The ruthless efficency of the Devilish prompted the development of a more powerful weapon with a 100% kill ratio, and the 40mm magnetic-driven ballistic weapon was born...

Almost instantaeously, several grenades bounced into the foilage and went off, ripping the leaves and bushes to shreds. The squad moved into the cleared zone directly afterwards, dispersing into the surrounding jungle. However, the Hunter units were well hidden, and the lack of a flash gave the patrol nowhere to aim for. For now, they held their fire, a dark sense of fear coming over them. Still, their powerful loyalty to the Shogunate would not allow them to retreat in the face of danger. One of the patrollers, the youngest looking of them all, whispered quietly into a radio, presumably calling for backup. The Hunter units could easily see the squads weaponry now, bolt action rifles and a light armor piercing weapon of some sort.

Endeavour
"That is acceptable, Lieutenant Commander, you are the visitor here." The Dragonate frigate sent back.

A small craft disembarked from the frigate, and halted midway between the frigates and the Endeavour.
Lieutenant Commander MacDonald latches the final connections on his hardsuit, looking over to the obligatory Diplomatic Officer seconded out to the GEC. "Just in case, eh?"

"'Just in case,' indeed," Diplomatic Officer Venera Andronikashvili scoffs, "I think it worked out this time. You're lucky everyone has been so friendly."

"Everyone?" Norton looks at the D.O. oddly. "I don't know if you've been sleeping for the last half-hour, but we definately got shot at. I'm still not willing to trust anyone further than we can fight them, which isn't much, all things considered. I'll feel a lot better once we get some reinforcements."

"And yet you're going to ride our only shuttle out to meet them." Venera smirks. "What, don't trust me?"

"No, I'm the only one they've talked to so far. You have to admit, our first-contact doctrine needs work."

"I won't argue that." The diplomatic officer smirks. "The section on that in the DiploCorps essentially reads 'wing it.'"

"Well, the shuttle won't take off without us," the lieutenant commander sighs, "so let's get moving."

Its two passengers safely stowed, the Scarab-class shuttle drops from Endeavour's ventral bay, wings unfolding. The coleopteran craft hums silently as its drives spin up, sending it towards the rendezvous point. "Dragonate shuttle, this is Shuttle Endeavour-Sierra-Alpha, carrying Lieutenant Commander MacDonald and Diplomatic Officer Andronikashvili. We request permission to dock with you. Please transmit approach vector coordinates."

Beagle

"Hey, over there! Dark blotch!"
"Eh? All looks white and orangy to me."
"Oh, whoops! I'm lookin' at the UV spectrum. Lessee, visual... aha! Bharan, right there! Dr. Kampas, this looks interesting. That discolored orange band, it shows up darker than the surroundings on UV. Can we get a higher magnification on visual?"
Miren leaned close to the monitors, carefully picking out every minutes detail. "Aha! There, something moved! And there, again, looks like something solid. Could just be an image artifact, though. Best if we can swing over for a closeup. And along the way, can we take some samples from that cloud?"
"Hell, the atmosphere reads clear of toxins and winds are decidedly mild." Dr. Kampas grins. "We can pop a dorsal hatch if you want once we slow down. Anyway, just point out locations of interest on the map"--he gestures over to something resembling a CNC strategic indicator board--"and the request will get sent up to the bridge." To demonstrate, Kampas walks over to the board, takes up a light pen, and draws a simple curving path towards a blinking icon representing the sensor contact, circling it. "The circle indicates it as a priority target for sensor gear."

The image on an auxilliary screen shifts slightly, centering the object and then zooming in quickly in a manner expected from telephoto lenses, the image shaking just a bit until it locks on. "See, there ya go."

GECHQ

"Endeavour is in trouble?" Director Hertzfeldt frowns, tapping the blotter on his desk. "Just dropping a squadron in on the situation might make it worse. Still... if we show up, then we can leave if things get too hot. The system still isn't mapped up enough for strategic jump, so extremity jump it will be."

TYWS-MCR Hornet

Flag Captain Hitome Sato reads over the small printout, then hands the flimsy paper back to the communications officer. "Right. Comms, send Helm the coordinates of system S47109 and ready the ship for immediate jump. FleetCom, coordinate with the squadron and go to Alert Condition One. I want to be ready for a fight but not agressively so."

Sitting down, she presses a blue button on her console, immediately triggering a slight shift to blue-tones in the lighting and a softly sounding klaxon. "Sensors, you know the drill. Passive site-aware sweep. Weapons, keep active defenses and weapons on cold standby. We're going to announce our presence and see what happens."

A chorus of "Acting!"s sound out from around the command room of the spear-like Tiger-class medium cruiser, with similar motions following aboard each of the other ships in Roving Cruiser Squadron Bravo.

"Roger that, Endeavour-Sierra-Alpha, dock on coord's 504,857,002, that is 504,857,002." The shuttle responded as it manuvered into place alongside the other shuttle.

Endeavour-SA

"Acknowledged. Moving into position and extending boarding tube..." Coming to zero velocity relative, the shuttle extends a simple plastic tube from a ventral hatch to the airlock door on the Dragonate shuttle, magnetic clamps locking into place against the hull.

Two hard-suited figures cycle through the airlock and knock lightly on the door that presents itself on the other end. "Hullo, it's your friendly Galaxy Exploration Command scouts. Would you be interested in friendly relations, maybe an encyclopedia set?"

Venera elbows MacDonald in the ribs. "Quitit."

"Funny." Came the static infested reply, followed by the soft hiss of the airlock opening. "Please come in, Lieutenant Commander."

Beagle

"Hey, over there! Dark blotch!"
"Eh? All looks white and orangy to me."
"Oh, whoops! I'm lookin' at the UV spectrum. Lessee, visual... aha! Bharan, right there! Dr. Kampas, this looks interesting. That discolored orange band, it shows up darker than the surroundings on UV. Can we get a higher magnification on visual?"
Miren leaned close to the monitors, carefully picking out every minutes detail. "Aha! There, something moved! And there, again, looks like something solid. Could just be an image artifact, though. Best if we can swing over for a closeup. And along the way, can we take some samples from that cloud?"
"Hell, the atmosphere reads clear of toxins and winds are decidedly mild." Dr. Kampas grins. "We can pop a dorsal hatch if you want once we slow down. Anyway, just point out locations of interest on the map"--he gestures over to something resembling a CNC strategic indicator board--"and the request will get sent up to the bridge." To demonstrate, Kampas walks over to the board, takes up a light pen, and draws a simple curving path towards a blinking icon representing the sensor contact, circling it. "The circle indicates it as a priority target for sensor gear."

The image on an auxilliary screen shifts slightly, centering the object and then zooming in quickly in a manner expected from telephoto lenses, the image shaking just a bit until it locks on. "See, there ya go."

"Ah, very god. Thank you. And I think I would like to pop a hatch when we can. Nice to be able to say your one of the first humans to breath the air on... or in, as the case may be, an alien world."

The rest of the way over to the indicated cloud formation was spent rather quietly, looking at images getting bigger and bigger as the dropship got closer and closer. By the end, Miren and Bharan both began to look a bit on the dissapointed side.
"Well, Miren, I guess it is a bit much to expect a hit on the first try. Miren?"
Dr. Miren's jaw dropped as he leaned in to the screen again. "Holy Kronos Father of Zeus! Zoom, zoom! There!" The doctor nearly jumped out of his seat for tapping the screen so hard. Right smack in the middle of the screen, the clouds were parting for a small silvery blue triangle- which was not so small viewed up close.

The scaly beast measured at least as long as a sperm whale, breaching the cloud tops with its funnel-like mouth gaping wide. Two large fins projected out from its upper half, while a longer and more slender one projected from the bottom. The dorsal skin-analog membrane appeared stretched thin like a latex balloon, and the creature quickly dropped back into the orange cloud with a flap of it fins.

"That was beautiful. I really hope we have a tape of that."

Hornet
Sol System

"Squadron reports ready and at jump stations," announces the Fleet Communications officer, settling back into her chair as she quietly braces. Flag Captain Sato acknolwedges the message with a sharp nod, a slight tensing around the eyes. "Very good, FleetCom. Mission clocks synchronized?"

"Of course."

"Jump at mission time twenty fourty-five double-naught. Helm, FleetCom, standardize."

"Acting, ma'am." The helmsman dabbles at his console, setting dials and flicking switches with audible clicks. "Ready."

"Go signal recieved from all ships," the FleetCom officer says calmly.

"Standby, then." A few minutes tick away, then Sato grins. "Remember when we helped disco--"

System S47109

At the edge of the star system, eight ships slip in instantly from infinity, no matter from what direction they are viewed. A slight shimmering distorting wave effect spreading from them, making the stars twinkle and dance, and then back to normal, a collection of ships where once there were none.

Two spear-like Tiger medium cruisers, Hornet and Yamato; two bulbous missile frigates, Idealistic and Dependable; and four blocky destroyers with fang-like forecannon, Integrity, Service, Excellence, and Enthusiasm.

"--ver these wonderful, wonderful drives?" Grimacing, the short Asian woman shakes off the slight inside-out feeling tesseract jumps always gave her. "Comm, make contact with Endeavour the instant Sensors finds her. Tell her to broach our coming... gently."

Endeavour

"Well, here's the cavalry. Fowarding it to the boss..." Clicks of switches being toggled.

The Boss and The Diplomat

The two cycle through the airlock to the other side, immediately finding whoever seems to be in charge and bowing shortly to them while leaving their high-visibility bubble helmets on. The taller of the two, a Caucasian male with a ruddy, freckled face and strawberry-blonde hair cut short in a military style, smiles broadly while extending a hand. "Lieutenant Commander Norton MacDonald, Galaxy Exploration Command. This," he indicates his companion, an ivory-skinned woman with a thin, alert face of Georgian features and obsidian-black hair, "is Diplomatic Officer Venera Andronikashvili, representing the Triumvirate of Yut. Good to see ya."

"Commander... if I may?" The D.O. looks at the naval officer with a quietly suffering expression.

"Oh... right... this is your job. Sorry."
"It is our wish to open peaceful relations with anyone wishing to accept it," she begins carefully, "and we only come--"

Norton tilts his head slightly, bringing one gloved hand to the side of his helmet. "Oh, yeah. In a few minutes, you're gonna catch a hella burst of EM radiation like the one that announced our arrival but a lot bigger. That's... uh... a squadron sent to keep Endeavour safe."

A moment of silence between the two; Venera exasperated and MacDonald grimacing. "Sorry. Even if this system is balkanized, there's no real easy way to say 'oh, you've more company, and they're packing. But in a nice way.'"

"Don't mind him," Andronikashvili mutters, "he's not trained for this sort of thing."

"It's our first first contact not in the Sol System," Norton offers in his best 'but it's my first day' voice.

Beagle-Three

"Everything seen through those telescopes is recorded," Kampas replies with a grin, "it isn't like computer memory is dear." Moving to the board, he draws an X near the icon representing the ship. "I'm going to ask that they bring us to a full stop nearby, so we can crack the hatch like I offered. Atmosphere reads as clean... no lethal looking biocontaminants, either."

The Loki settles in between the clouds as Kampas leads them up to the dropship's spine, cycling through a vertical airlock and up a ladder to the top of the Loki's fuselage, resembling the deck of an angular submarine. The air is warm in the light greyish-toned light and is actually almost clear of any sort of scent.

"Well, that's alien air for you." Dr. Kampas grins again, then looks down as his communications device chirrups. Holding it to his ear, he acknowledges the other end with a terse "ya?" and waits a few moments as it buzzes. "Right. Keep me informed." Returning the device to his coat, Kampas points off the port aft. "Radar contacts at bearing two-thirty declination seven heading thirty-three inclination eleven self-relative. Sonar reports a sort of buzzing noise... should pass across our foreward-port assuming they don't get curious."

The captian grinned, and turned his head to a man with a top knot sitting down before a terminal, who nodded in return.

"That's all very well Lieutenant Commander, by the way, it is nice to meet you, and you, Diplomatic Officer. But, keep in mind this is our system, and it wouldn't be right if we were not 'packing heat.'"

A junior officer murmured into a mike, as the captian gestures to the expansive viewscreen of the bridge, and at least a dozen sizable ships shimmer into sight where there was once empty space.

"In a system where everyone's trying to kill everyone else, it is mere common sense to have a small fleet behind a meeting with an outsider. I hope it is not threatening." He looks from one to the other, and bows slightly. "But before I forget my original duties. I am Captian Yoshimaru, and whether it suits you here or on Dragonate terra, I am to solidify an alliance between the Dragonate and the Triumvirate. Honestly, it is more or less to deny your support to our enemies. Ah, and my other purpose. I've been told to answer any of your questions to the fullest of my abilities. So, whatever suits you."

Almost instantaeously, several grenades bounced into the foilage and went off, ripping the leaves and bushes to shreds. The squad moved into the cleared zone directly afterwards, dispersing into the surrounding jungle. However, the Hunter units were well hidden, and the lack of a flash gave the patrol nowhere to aim for. For now, they held their fire, a dark sense of fear coming over them. Still, their powerful loyalty to the Shogunate would not allow them to retreat in the face of danger. One of the patrollers, the youngest looking of them all, whispered quietly into a radio, presumably calling for backup. The Hunter units could easily see the squads weaponry now, bolt action rifles and a light armor piercing weapon of some sort.

OOC: Hunter camoflodge is similar to that of the Elites in Halo, visible around the edges, or the Predator cloaking system. Both are invisible, yet still visible, if you know what to look for. You're going to need a high-powered weapon to crack ACU plating, something like a .357 magnum. High-powered rifle rounds will deal with Grunt units.

ACU Unit 000001 entered the fray, various dings in 'his' armor plating from shrapnel from the grenades. With a slight hum, 'he' activates 'his' blade fingers, & launches 'himself' into the lead soldier at a relative speed of 60 miles per hour. The six-inch blades tore into his chest, punchturing lungs & servering blood vessels.

The dead soldier's companions opened fire, under-powered rounds plinking off of their target's armor. The advanced hydraulic system in 'his' legs contracted, then exploded with power, sending the ACU flying through another soldier, the sonic vibrations of 'his' blade-fingers sending the blood flying off of them in razor-thin sheets. A third was close enough for a decapitating swipe, and a fourth fell to a swift trio of stabs & swipes to the soft stomach area. Five more dropped without heads like the first, killed by Hunter units hidden on the forest floor. Hunter unit 000003 has suffered shrapnel damage to its railgun & was unable to fire.

The ACU more than made up for its supporting sniper's deficit...

OOC: Hope I didn't kill too many...

((Kill as many as you want, they're all just random troops.))

The onslaught left five more standing. The troop who's stomach had been torn to shreds wasn't quite dead yet, but he sacrificed himself by throwing himself upon the ACU Unit and pulling the pins of his grenades, showering the surrounding area with blood and bone. The man with the armor piercing weapon kneeled and got off a hasty shot at the ACU before his chest was blown out his back and his head torn off by two railgun shots. The rest continued firing hopelessly, and a couple more grenades were tossed.

The grenades hurled the ACU into the treeline, where a high-velocity shell tore off its left arm at the shoulder. It simply retrieved the severed limb, the metallic impliment disappearing in a cloud of nanites as it was recycled by the NAU into another arm.

The Commander unit gave the halt order again, and the ACU re-armed with a VLG, or Variable Lethality Gun. It was a four-barreled, electronically fired weapon containing bean-bag shotgun shells, rubber bullets, tazer nets, and hard-cast plastic shells that where powerful enough to dent a heavy metal door ( Think ARWIN cannon ). As non-chalant as ever, the ACU fired a pair of tazer nets at two of the remaining soldiers, trapping them under nylon nets interlaced with copper filaments & powered by a small capacitor. High volts of electricity coursed over their bodies, rendering them unconcious.

The last man attempted to flee, but was struck with three rapidly-fired bean-bag rounds, flooring him. As a final touch, the ACU vaulted onto him, backhanding him with the VLG. A single tooth flew across the blackened clearing, as the ACU slung the captive over its shoulder. Grunt units gathered up the other unconcious soldiers, taking them to holding cells in the Collective's tunnel network, where they would be questioned, or driven mad by the Devilish's odd speech pattern.

Drone units gathered up the weapons & bodies of the other soldiers, taking them into the tunnels for processing. The bodies would be broken down into thier core elements, mostly hydrogen & carbon, which would be used to power the Devilish manufacturing rooms until cold-fusion reactors could be built.

The weapons would be scanned for potential design strengths & benefits, then ultimately broken down into their key elements like the bodies...

The Collective would find the captured weapons were crude bolt action rifles, used to fire 7.62mm ammunition, and the armor piercing weapon a basic 30mm recoiless rifle. Off in the jungle, the roar of engines could be heard, and soon enough, a quartet of buggies armed to the teeth with 12.7mm chain guns and 40mm grenade launchers burst from the undergrowth. They ripped through the foilage towards the Collective perimeter.

LtCom MacDonald
"But before I forget my original duties. I am Captian Yoshimaru, and whether it suits you here or on Dragonate terra, I am to solidify an alliance between the Dragonate and the Triumvirate. Honestly, it is more or less to deny your support to our enemies. Ah, and my other purpose. I've been told to answer any of your questions to the fullest of my abilities. So, whatever suits you."
"Actually," Venera replies, "we don't plan on supporting anyone in a standing conflict. Rest assured that our support is denied to your enemies, certainly. As for questions, we have the natural ones newcomers would have and are willing to respond in kind. What is the current situation, and what happened in the past to cause it? Anything you can tell us would be greatly appreciated."

"Fair enough." Yoshimaru responded with a nod. "As I'm sure the Lieutenant Commander here has pieced together from his transmissions with the Golden Tiger Clan and us, those aboard the colony ship Aurora that was sent here from the Earth nation of Cyberutopia. The Aurora held 5 million, and an AI advanced far beyond it's time. Perhaps too far, as intense EM interference from an unknown source wiped almost every trace of data from the system. Flying blind, the AI landed us here." He gestured out to Aurora Prima below. "Ironically, we still had the data for most forms of weaponry. There were at least a dozen people who still remembered Cyberutopia and the basis of culture. They were dubbed Ancients, and were divided up among the rapidly splintering colonists. As the saying goes, 'restricted information will lead to chaos.' Here is the result of that lack of information, an all out war for our history and the knowledge we could have had. We, however, fufill the rest of the proverb, 'those who find the balance between deception and truth can lead others to believe they have all the information they need.' The current situation is between mainly our faction, the Imperial Dragonate, and the blindly militaristic Shogunate. The other, smaller groups subsist mainly on pirating, the most notorious and powerful being the Red Lightning Clan."

He sighed and tapped something on a console, and a holographic map arose from it.

"This is what we control of our system." The Captian said, and a red line traced around the planet closest to the suns of the system, stopping about two-thirds of the way into Aurora Prima. Crimson dots burst into existiance over the water planet's surface, clustering on the archipelagoes of land and the outlying shores. Only two of the dots appeared on the small planet closest to the suns, which the Captian placed his finger onto. "This is Aurora Dœsölatå, a barren wasteland of a desert planet. We control it in it's entirety, thought it's really not worth anything. Here, on Aurora Prima, is our capital, Corsiœmperia, translating into Core of the Empire. The population of the territory we control remains at about 70 percent of the overall population of the system. In addition," the red line extends off the map, and the map follows to show a softly shimmering nebula, "we control this nebula, N-A1. It's rather calm nebula, and contains some very rare and profitable materials, chiefly mecroxite."

The red fades, and the view shifts back to the system, where the rest of Aurora Prima is highlighted in yellow, along with the majority of the space around the planet furthest from the suns.

"The Shogunate controls the rest of Aurora Prima," the yellow part of Prima explodes in golden dots, though significantly less than the Dragonate controlled areas, "and Aurora Inferis. Inferis itself is inhabitable, it's surface remaining at 200º C, but the outlying rings of rock are resource rich. It is believed that some celestial body slammed into Inferis some time before we arrived here, flinging it's crust into orbit around it. In any case, we retain the advantage over all our opponents. In time, they will fall, and we will finally bring peace to the system." He smiles slightly. "And that is our history, friends."

First Contact Team

"Excellent," the diplomatic officer responds, "we're actually from the Sol system, with several Triumvirate nations on Earth. We're a collection of like-minded nations with similar ideals and goals, one of which being the exploration of the universe around us. We've had several intrasolar contact situations with 'visitors from abroad,'" she says with a slight smile, "so we're more used to being in your situation. This is our first successful extrasolar first contact."

"Lucky for us it turned out to be successful," MacDonald offers.

"Quite. We're interested in peacefully exploring and instating cordial relations with anyone open to the prospect and friendly to our ideals."

Hornet

Hitome examines the spherical strategic indicator board that dominates the forward portion of the two-tiered command room, currently displaying a three-dimensional map of the system. Icons of all available sensor contacts, color coded as to similar design philosophy and probable affiliation, slowly flit about, with Endeavour being a blue icon set off to the middle of nowhere, relatively close to two green icons.

"Seems simple enough," she says, turning around to face her bridge crew, set up in a semi-circle around the indicator board. "Helm, set an intercept course for Endeavour. FleetCom, order the squadron to take up defensive positions around the scout: cruisers and frigates in core, destroyers on picket, spherical formation. Maintain Alert One status. All vessels approaching are to be challenged. If they fail to respond, captains are authorized to go to whatever Event Condition is necessary. We do not fire first unless definite hostile intent is shown."

The Fleet Command officer nods as she relays the orders, then watches as lights on her console change color. "All ships report acknowledgement."

"Excellent. Execute orders. Comms, tell Endeavour that we're coming and request a situation report."

The ships of the squadron move as one in dispersed formation, a hundred kilometers between vessels as they slip towards the lonely scoutship.

"Sir." The sensors officer says plainly, nodding towards the holographic display.

Yoshimaru turns back to the display, and it shifts to show the fleet from Scolopendra, represented by a formation of gray, moving slowly towards their position. Upon a silent order, the Dragonate fleet disappeared in an opaque wave, along with the two frigates and the Endeavour.

"Merely a precautionary measure." The Captian reassured the two. "This is an active portion of space, and not all of it is friendly. I would suggest you inform your support fleet. We would gladly allow you to explore Dragonate space, and open peacful relations with your Trimvirate."

(OOC: Disappear how?)

Contact Team

MacDonald nods and begins speaking in undertones into his throat mic, relaying the situation.

"We understand the concepts of 'precaution' fully," Venera asserts, "as people have taken advantage of us in the past. As for exploring your space... what is our policy on that, Commander?"

Norton looks up. "Well... given that there's an indigenous spacefaring presence, we'd just go in for a survey run but not pry too deeply--no need to abuse hospitality."

The diplomatic officer nods with a broad, genuine (albeit close-lipped) smile. "Excellent. We can share information as friendly relations flourish."

((Elemental Refraction Engine. You can't see the ship carrying it because it's cloaked at the moment. It's basically large scale optical camoflauge, and shows up as a blob of static on most sensors.))

Yoshimaru smiles and bows his head.

"Very good. You can begin your charting and exploring at your leisure." He responds. "Of course, you'll always be welcome in Dragonate territories."

Contact Team

Venera smiles broadly. "Excellent. We'll work out a communications method so we can keep in touch when the Commander here returns to scouting about. Maybe we will exchange ambassadors in the future. For now, we'll simply direct the squadron as you wish; it does have larger stores than the scout and may be useful in establishing permanent communications.

"You said that you are a splinter colony of Cyberutopia, yes? We can look them up in the Sol system if you wish and try to put you back in contact. Thank you for everything."

Beagle-Three
"Well, that's alien air for you." Dr. Kampas grins again, then looks down as his communications device chirrups. Holding it to his ear, he acknowledges the other end with a terse "ya?" and waits a few moments as it buzzes. "Right. Keep me informed." Returning the device to his coat, Kampas points off the port aft. "Radar contacts at bearing two-thirty declination seven heading thirty-three inclination eleven self-relative. Sonar reports a sort of buzzing noise... should pass across our foreward-port assuming they don't get curious."
"Warm and overcast... feels like it should be raining. A buzzing noise as in something is buzzing, or a buzzing noise as in the sonar is buzzing in indication of something?"
As they waited, the silvery creature breached again, opening a fairly large hole for looking through the clouds. The head was something like a sturgeon's, but scaled up to enormous proportions, and twisted such that it appeared upright by Tellurian standards, in contrast with the inverted body of the rest of the beast. As it emerged from its hole, hundreds of smaller specks could be seen inside the cloud and being pulled out along with it, though features were indistinguishable.

"Hmm, our brethren would likely be ashamed of what we have reduced ourselves to. Still, they could haste an end to this war. Anyway, thank you again." The Captian nodded solemnly and took a step back, and keyed something into the airlock door. "Goodbye for now, Lieutenant Commander, and good luck. A curse upon your enemies and a frothing plague upon their sons."

Endeavour

"Umm..." MacDonald tries to scratch the back of his neck, but his hand is impeded by the bubble helmet of his hard-suit. "Thanks? You too."

Venera barely suppresses a sigh, bowing shortly. "May you always walk on warm sands." Looking up, she smiles again. "Interesting how idiom varies from culture to culture, isn't it?"

Politely taking their leave, the two return to Endeavour while the crew aboard Hornet assembles a simple HPG communications relay satellite from stores, to be put around the Dragonate's uninhabitable world if authorized, thus maintaining contact.

Beagle-Three

"Buzzing as in whatever it is making a buzzing noise--we're picking it up on passive." As the group watches, a sort of blue-silvery cloud appears in the distance, quickly defining itself into a group of particles. Through binoculars, the cloud is a large group of something between dragonflies and mosquitos in shape with large stream-lined humps over the wing roots and wingspans probably approaching a meter. The mouthpieces of the insectoids are needle-like, but some open up into broad nets of membrane before snapping shut again.

"Netsquitoes," Kampas says.

"Most excellent."
"Aye, 'tis so, Bharan. Say, Dr. Kampas, are you thinking what I'm thinking? Filters microorganisms from the air with those nets? I wonder if they have any non-wing appendages... Come on, giant alien bugs, just a little closer... I want a better view of you...."
As Miren strained at the netsquitoes through binoculars, Bharan took a mental note of a few specks several cloud banks away, and then began inspecting the specks stirred up by the skywhale. Either too far or too small to be entirely distinct, some of the objects bobbed up and down erratically, others waved like a sidewinder snake, or perhaps like a flag in the wind, and several more fluttered and turned in convoluted patterns like certain deep-sea creatures of Earth.

The authorization for such a satellite is immediately given. The Dragonate fleet heads off, leaving the Scolopendrans to their own devices.

Beagle-Three

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/tmbnetsquito-binoc.jpg (http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/netsquito-binoc.jpg)

Dr. Kampas shrugs. "Is a possibility. They seem too wispy to act as catching larger prey... though I'd almost bet that's what those arms are for." Through the binoculars, it's visible that the netsquitoes have four wings and two long 'arm' appendages on their forward body, layered in small hooks and ending in long, black, scythe-like claws. "Still, if they're exoskeletal for one and flying for another, those can't be too dense or strong. I doubt they're supposed to be used against resisting targets."

Lowering his binoculars, Kampas taps the communications device on his belt. "CNC, get a telescope on where that big sturgeon-thing came through the cloud. I want a closer look at the flotsam."

Beagle-Three

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/tmbnetsquito-binoc.jpg (http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/compyart/netsquito-binoc.jpg)

Dr. Kampas shrugs. "Is a possibility. They seem too wispy to act as catching larger prey... though I'd almost bet that's what those arms are for." Through the binoculars, it's visible that the netsquitoes have four wings and two long 'arm' appendages on their forward body, layered in small hooks and ending in long, black, scythe-like claws. "Still, if they're exoskeletal for one and flying for another, those can't be too dense or strong. I doubt they're supposed to be used against resisting targets."

Lowering his binoculars, Kampas taps the communications device on his belt. "CNC, get a telescope on where that big sturgeon-thing came through the cloud. I want a closer look at the flotsam."

"Interesting, very interesting... notice the positioning of the eyes, on the top of the head rather than the sides. Leaves a huge blindspot underneath. Maybe they spend a lot of time stuck to something. Parasites, maybe? Hitch a ride with the spiky arms and keep a lookout with outward facing eyes?"

The flotsam in the clouds consisted mostly of flakes and sheets of brownish green and brownish red flakes and sheets. Only few recognizably animal-like constructs moved about among them. A long white "feathered serpent", with tens of wispy projections slowly rowing the air along its length as it twisted through the cloud, a rectangle of four blue-green sheets joined at the corners and waving back and forth, and a long blue-green ribbon pulling itself along by waving its body in sine curves. The bobbing objects for the most part turned out to be multicolored blobs pulsing like jellyfish. After a few minutes, parting the bottom of the cloud just as the top hole was getting hazy again, came a series of strange brown and grey flyers. Their outlines were like stingrays, complete with a long thin tail trailing behind, but instead of thick fins the creatures sported membranous sheets like bat-wings, stretched into delta-shapes and connected to the central body only along the front half. Nearly identical but far smaller wings joined at the base of the tail, tilting up and down like ailerons.

Grunt units charged the incoming jeeps, supported by the Hunter units. The first Grunt managed to vault onto the hood of an incoming vehicle, driving its blade-fingers through the windshield. 12.7mm rounds tore across the face area of the unit, and it toppled off into the clearing, servo systems shutting down as the AI circuits where rendered useless. Grunt unit 000003 lay as limp as a rag-doll, twitching slightly now and then.

The remaining two Grunt units swarmed a second jeep, ripping the gunner to shreds, his hands still clinging to the firing controls of the machine-gun as the rest of him toppled off into the blood-stained grass. The driver executed a series of evasive manuvers, sending a unit flying into another attacking jeep where it lodged into the hood like some sort of disturbing hood ornament.

The ACU decided to play 'chicken' with a third jeep, winding up with treadmarks across its metallic body. With a mighty lunge, it attacked the gunner, removing his leg below the knee before the machine-gun's barrel spun around & knocked the attacking unit to the jungle floor.

The Hunters divided their targets between the four jeeps, while the Commander unit took aim at the final invading vehicle, sending a series of well-aimed 10mm rounds at the driver...

OOC: Finally remebered the post...

((El Bumpo Chimichanga.))

Beagle-Three

"Quite possible. With those membranous mouth-bits and not much in the way of grinding mandibles, it's most likely an aeroplankton feeder or something. Still... they're powering their way through the area, and that takes more energy than one would expect from that. Maybe they store reserves inbetween hops from shelters? And what are those manta-things?"

The netsquito swarm morphs slowly to avoid the mantas, trailing just off the wake of the airwhale.

"They appear to be... ah... bat-like manta-things. Hm."
"Right, well... can we pick up some specimens?" asked Bharan. "If not, I'd like to check out those specks, a few cloud banks over yonder."

Kampas hrms. "Hrm... specimen collection might be kinda tricky; it's not like we have any industrial-grade butterfly nets. Any suggestions?"

"Well, crap. Should've brought along a tag gun. Oh well. Hey, maybe you've got something equivalent? Or something that could be heavily played with until it's equivalent to a tag gun? If we can't catch 'em, just stick a transponder in 'em and pick one up later."
"Witha bigger ship."
"Yes, with a bigger ship."

"Well... we can do that..." Kampas thinks for a moment, rubbing his chin, before snapping his fingers. "Or we can 'play' with other things until we engineer ourselves a butterfly net."

Twenty minutes later, in the spinal hangar bay

"Tell us again why we're doin' this, Sarge?"

"Wha?" 'Sarge'--Master Sergeant Hamud ibn Hassat, in particular--chomps down on the gum that replaces his more usual cigar. Smoking around fuel and equipment and such is rather silly. "You don't like thought problems?"

"It's not that," Spaceman First Class Ivanov growls as he pulls his wrench back, turning a recalcitrant nut, "it's why are we setting up these winches with some parachute rigging and cargo webbing?"

"We're going to catch us some butterflies, Ivanov." Chomp chomp. "Get that thing packed and on that Scarab, on the bounce."

[b]Ten more minutes later, outside[b]

The coleopteran Scarab shuttle hovers a little away behind the swarm, Beagle-Three off in the distance.

"Okay, boys, open the hatch." The rear door folds open, tethered Mobile Infantry in their powered armor standing by with a large net.

"Cast it!" The troopers throw out the net, watching it open in the breeze as the Scarab begins to waft towards the swarm of netsquitoes. Dragging the trawling net behind, the craft easily scoops up some of the insectoids, despite their attempts to scatter once the Scarab flies overhead.

"Close the net!" One bit of rigging set around the main cords winches back, closing the net into a ball. "Reel it in!" The main cords are winched in, bringing the whole cargo-rigging assembly full of five or six carefully flapping and moving netsquitoes in. Tying the mesh 'bag' securely shut and making sure it stays with ABDR tape, the powered-armored troopers unhook the bags from the main lines and gingerly move the bag into a isolated bit of the cargo bay.

"Got 'em! Put on the next net and let's go see if we can get those flotsam critters!"

CCSS Marco arrived at the edge of the system, completely lost & disoriented...

"Somebody give me a damage report!"

Shouted the captain, a stout man with shots of grey at his temples.

The helmsman was dead, slumped over his station with several gunshot wounds to his back. Three Marines in clad in powered infantry armor glanced nervously around the bridge, expressions concealed by their helmets. Several pirates lay bleeding on the bridge's metal floor, riddled by the Marines' weapons, a large, shield-like assault rifle.

The Marco had been boarded covertly by a team of pirates, seeking to sell a fine cruiser like the Marco on the black market. Fortunately, the ship's garrison of Marines dealt with the threat, but at great cost:

The ship was off the galactic map, with three of the command staff & control crew dead. The Marcos was an attack ship, outfitted to land a sizeable ground force on a planet, as well as defend itself from hostile forces. There was no attack force on board, just two companies of Marines, a Jager squad, & a squad of scout terradynes. A Command APC was also in the cargo bay, minus a field commander...

"Sir! No structural damage, but Pulaski's dea..."

The captain was in the crewman's face in an instant...

"I can see that, dammit! What I can't see is our position on the map! Someone get us back on the f**kin' map!"

The captain had apparently lost it, waving his smoking sidearm around the bridge like a madman. The Marnies exchanged glances, wondering if they should dust him or detain him...

"Sir, put the gun..."

A gunshot echoed through the bridge as a hapeless crewman was relieved of his life by the captain & his handgun. Seconds later, the Marines opened fire, tearing the captain to shreds & riddling the communication station with bullets...

"Cease fire! Cease fire! Triggers off dammit!"

The lead Marine, a sargeant by his markings, shouted through his helmet's speaker. Quickly, he took charge...

"You, you, you, an' you... Get these bodies out of here..."

He picked four bewildered crewmen out of the gathered crowd...

"You, matinence guy, get to work on the comm station... The rest of you find out where the hell we are!"

The Marine's name was Mercutio Palmer, named after the ill-fated duelist from Romeo & Juliet. Palmer seemed to have a knack for leadership in tense situations... He seated himself by the bulkhead door, sending his two comrades outside to watch for any more invaders...

(A Fast-Forward Meta-Bump)

Miren and Bharan stood in the cargo bay and looked at the various strange fluttery things in a wide range of states of intactness flopping, lying, or floating about.
"Well. This'll keep us busy for a while."
"Yup. Can't wait to see what those specks look like up close, though."

Several hours passed, and nothing was achieved. The Marco still had no communications, or any notion of where it was in relation to Earth...

Sgt. Palmer, oddly the highest ranking soldier on the vessel, ordered the ship to set a course for a nearby planet. Hopefully, it was inhabited...

*boing?*

*boing?*