Xanthal
17-03-2004, 04:03
I've begun writing a story about the currently unfolding war between Xanthal and Kecha. So far it's mostly detail and description, I haven't gotten to the action yet. I'll periodically add the latest expansions, but as I go along any comments or criticisms that you have would be appreciated. Keep in mind that it's a first draft still, so don't rant too much... If you have any ideas or advice though, I'd be glad to recieve it. Don't be afraid to nitpick either. Spelling errors, grammatical errors, detail suggestions, whatever you can tell me. Especially tense errors. You'll notice that most of the chapters are in present tense. I don't know why I do that, but it should be consistent. Catch me if it's not. Some chapters are meant to be past tense though. At this point, only chapter two is that way.
Thanks much,
-Zeke Zabertini, the player behind Xanthal
Chapter one: Peace
There is only one thing that Admiral Gerald Hauser wants now, and that is peace. He glances about himself, assessing the situation on the bridge of Xanthalian Armada Starship 251, the Eclipse class warship from which he now commanded the Xanthalian taskforce. The massive vessel floats in orbit of Relafia IV in the Relafia system, home of the United States of New Xanthal. The bridge is darkened and the red alert lights and klaxons call attention to their combat-ready status. This was a ship for destroying enemies and protecting friends.
Who, then, was friend and who was foe? It had suddenly become very hard to tell. His eyes pass over the young weapons officers, still tense from their recent encounter. They pass over the seasoned helm officer, sitting deep in thought in his seat. His eyes come to rest on the operations officer, Shelly McDonald. The young lady was new to the Armada, and had never before even engaged in a live-fire exercise. A body floats past the outside cameras, appearing on the giant forward view screen headless and frozen, falling toward the planet below. Ensign McDonald retches. “Turn that thing off,” the Admiral orders. Shelly is glad to oblige, and the forward screen switches to a tactical readout.
The Kechan fleet is gone now, having retreated from the battle that lost them almost a third of their ships. What is left of their fleet has retreated to the Sol system. The rest of their ships drift outside, battered hulls and dead crews plummeting towards the atmosphere of Relafia IV. The friction of their entry will deal with them quite efficiently. The Admiral reflects somberly on the events of the past few hours, and how one of the best friends of the Socialist Republic of Xanthal has become their worst enemy. He reflects on Kecha.
Chapter two: History
“The Great White Holy Empire of Kecha” was a name synonymous with “friend” across the Socialist Republic of Xanthal. Kecha and Xanthal had been allies since 1981, when the Socialist Republic (then the United Socialist States of Xanthal) joined the fledgling International Defense Initiative to fill the void left by the Union of Socialist Republics alliance that had collapsed earlier in the year. The two nations had radically different ideologies, but they got along famously.
Xanthal moved to the Aellis system in 2119, and left the IDI in 2132, but relations between the friends stayed warm until the Kechans joined them among the stars in 3210. All was well between the powers until 3445, when Xanthal rejoined the IDI just as it was suffering some of its worst internal dissent of all time. Their friendship persevered though, and relations stayed positive until 3460. This morning.
The Kechans had blockaded New Xanthal’s home planet yesterday to force its conservative government to change its oppressive policies. The Socialist Republic, opposing all blockades of non-military ships, immediately dispatched a fleet to the Relafia system. Their mission was to escort over one hundred merchant vessels past the Kechan blockade. They were given a standing order: Do not fire unless fired upon. When Kechan reinforcements proved unable hold the line the Kechans joined the battle. In the ensuing battle almost a hundred ships were lost and nearly a thousand fighters destroyed. There were several minor participants, but the primary combatants were Kecha and Xanthal. Kecha cut their losses and retreated upon the arrival of New Aranamor Alliance reinforcements. Now the allied fleet, consisting of ships from Arenumberg, Cyberutopia, Pablicosta, Skeelzania, The WIck, and Xanthal, sat idly waiting for some kind of instruction from their superiors.
Chapter three: Reprieve
The Admiral emerges from his thoughts at the call of the young operations officer. “Sir, it’s nighttime in New Krytan now. We probably won’t get new orders until tomorrow.” Gerald nods in agreement.
“Okay, stand down red alert, go to yellow alert. Combat shift over. Good night everyone.” He stands and stretches as the normal lighting resumes and the alarms that had signaled red alert cease their incessant noise at the touch of a button by Gorran, one of the tactical officers. He nods to the attractive female commander in the seat beside him. “The bridge is yours, Alissa.” The commander moves over to the seat that had been occupied by the Admiral.
“Aye Sir.” Gerald smiles slightly and heads to the back of the bridge. The double doors of the turbolift open before him with a slight hiss, and he steps inside. Once the doors close he deflates, slouching out of his straight and proper pose. God help us..., he thinks, The Kechans will never let this go. We’re all headed straight into a war.... Dictator Museveni was their only hope now. He was a reasonable man. If he could come to an agreement with Kecha’s leaders, then perhaps there was yet a chance for peaceful resolution. He straightens up and nods, reassuring himself. Vladimir Museveni will pull us out of this. He always does. “Deck thirty. Engineering,” he orders the computer. The lift descends rapidly to deck thirty, almost one hundred meters down. The movement is tracked by a small graphical readout on the side wall of the lift, the only indication that the lift is moving at all besides a soft humming noise. The lift’s inertial dampers negate any sensation of acceleration. The lift then moves about five hundred meters more horizontally.
The rapid movement of the lift is necessary, especially considering the sheer size of the Eclipse class vessel it was designed to transport its crew around in. The Eclipse class is the largest general combat vessel in the Xanthalian Armada, the third largest vessel in the fleet. Measuring three hundred and twenty-five billion cubic meters internally, its size is exceeded only by the general purpose deep-space Excursion class and the planet-destroying Apocalypse class. Fitted with seventeen thousand individual standard weapons arrays as well as a full complement of advanced weaponry, the Eclipse class is capable of taking on capital ships successfully with a minimum of support. XAS-251 is the oldest Eclipse class starship in the fleet, but it is kept up-to-date with regular maintenance.
Chapter four: Engineering
The turbolift halts and the doors open into the ship’s engineering section. The engineering staff, usually calm and composed, mill about chaotically. The Admiral smiles as he steps out into the sea of bustling crewmembers. A tight group huddles around the ship’s hovering, boxlike Infinite Energy Core, the vessel’s power supply. Above them and up two levels on engineering’s ceiling runs the Quantum Slipstream Core. The pleasant green-glowing cylindrical chamber runs almost the length of the ship, and powers the operation of the quantum slipstream drive that allows Xanthalian starships to travel at up to five hundred million times the speed of light. On the ground floor are the general operations systems, giving the engineering crew access to the hundreds of different systems operating within the ship, from life-support to gravity to the replicators. Several lifts and ladders allow access to the catwalks and platforms that are the second and third levels, which allow access to combat systems and the engines, respectively. All three levels are crowded, but the ground floor was the worst congested. There is an order to this chaos, Martha always sees to that.
A middle-aged woman of dark complexion and strong figure emerges from the crowd, yelling backwards at a young male ensign. “I said shut it off and I meant it! The AI knows her systems better than either of us, so listen to her!” She turns her head forward just in time to avoid a collision with her commanding officer. She draws to a quick halt and snaps to attention. “Admiral on deck!” The reaction is instant. Engineering falls completely silent as the fifty-odd staff turn to face the caller and salute.
“At ease.” Admiral Hauser grins. I’m never going to get tired of that.... The engineers return to their work somewhat more quietly and the lieutenant commander that was Martha Benson relaxes.
“What can I do for you Sir?”
“You can provide me with a report....” He stops the Commander as she turns to write one. “A verbal report will suffice, Commander.”
“Of course Sir. All systems are nominal, but primary shields are operating at sixty-eight percent. We’re currently recharging them to full capacity.” The Admiral nods his approval.
“Very good. That will be all.” Martha bows in respect, then salutes before wading off back into the crowd. The Admiral looks about once more, then returns to the turbolift, waiting a short time before the doors open with an empty waiting car behind them. He steps inside and the doors seal. He savors the sudden, blessed silence for a moment before giving his next order. “Deck twenty. Messhall.” The lift starts off again and the Admiral crosses his arms, waiting.
Thanks much,
-Zeke Zabertini, the player behind Xanthal
Chapter one: Peace
There is only one thing that Admiral Gerald Hauser wants now, and that is peace. He glances about himself, assessing the situation on the bridge of Xanthalian Armada Starship 251, the Eclipse class warship from which he now commanded the Xanthalian taskforce. The massive vessel floats in orbit of Relafia IV in the Relafia system, home of the United States of New Xanthal. The bridge is darkened and the red alert lights and klaxons call attention to their combat-ready status. This was a ship for destroying enemies and protecting friends.
Who, then, was friend and who was foe? It had suddenly become very hard to tell. His eyes pass over the young weapons officers, still tense from their recent encounter. They pass over the seasoned helm officer, sitting deep in thought in his seat. His eyes come to rest on the operations officer, Shelly McDonald. The young lady was new to the Armada, and had never before even engaged in a live-fire exercise. A body floats past the outside cameras, appearing on the giant forward view screen headless and frozen, falling toward the planet below. Ensign McDonald retches. “Turn that thing off,” the Admiral orders. Shelly is glad to oblige, and the forward screen switches to a tactical readout.
The Kechan fleet is gone now, having retreated from the battle that lost them almost a third of their ships. What is left of their fleet has retreated to the Sol system. The rest of their ships drift outside, battered hulls and dead crews plummeting towards the atmosphere of Relafia IV. The friction of their entry will deal with them quite efficiently. The Admiral reflects somberly on the events of the past few hours, and how one of the best friends of the Socialist Republic of Xanthal has become their worst enemy. He reflects on Kecha.
Chapter two: History
“The Great White Holy Empire of Kecha” was a name synonymous with “friend” across the Socialist Republic of Xanthal. Kecha and Xanthal had been allies since 1981, when the Socialist Republic (then the United Socialist States of Xanthal) joined the fledgling International Defense Initiative to fill the void left by the Union of Socialist Republics alliance that had collapsed earlier in the year. The two nations had radically different ideologies, but they got along famously.
Xanthal moved to the Aellis system in 2119, and left the IDI in 2132, but relations between the friends stayed warm until the Kechans joined them among the stars in 3210. All was well between the powers until 3445, when Xanthal rejoined the IDI just as it was suffering some of its worst internal dissent of all time. Their friendship persevered though, and relations stayed positive until 3460. This morning.
The Kechans had blockaded New Xanthal’s home planet yesterday to force its conservative government to change its oppressive policies. The Socialist Republic, opposing all blockades of non-military ships, immediately dispatched a fleet to the Relafia system. Their mission was to escort over one hundred merchant vessels past the Kechan blockade. They were given a standing order: Do not fire unless fired upon. When Kechan reinforcements proved unable hold the line the Kechans joined the battle. In the ensuing battle almost a hundred ships were lost and nearly a thousand fighters destroyed. There were several minor participants, but the primary combatants were Kecha and Xanthal. Kecha cut their losses and retreated upon the arrival of New Aranamor Alliance reinforcements. Now the allied fleet, consisting of ships from Arenumberg, Cyberutopia, Pablicosta, Skeelzania, The WIck, and Xanthal, sat idly waiting for some kind of instruction from their superiors.
Chapter three: Reprieve
The Admiral emerges from his thoughts at the call of the young operations officer. “Sir, it’s nighttime in New Krytan now. We probably won’t get new orders until tomorrow.” Gerald nods in agreement.
“Okay, stand down red alert, go to yellow alert. Combat shift over. Good night everyone.” He stands and stretches as the normal lighting resumes and the alarms that had signaled red alert cease their incessant noise at the touch of a button by Gorran, one of the tactical officers. He nods to the attractive female commander in the seat beside him. “The bridge is yours, Alissa.” The commander moves over to the seat that had been occupied by the Admiral.
“Aye Sir.” Gerald smiles slightly and heads to the back of the bridge. The double doors of the turbolift open before him with a slight hiss, and he steps inside. Once the doors close he deflates, slouching out of his straight and proper pose. God help us..., he thinks, The Kechans will never let this go. We’re all headed straight into a war.... Dictator Museveni was their only hope now. He was a reasonable man. If he could come to an agreement with Kecha’s leaders, then perhaps there was yet a chance for peaceful resolution. He straightens up and nods, reassuring himself. Vladimir Museveni will pull us out of this. He always does. “Deck thirty. Engineering,” he orders the computer. The lift descends rapidly to deck thirty, almost one hundred meters down. The movement is tracked by a small graphical readout on the side wall of the lift, the only indication that the lift is moving at all besides a soft humming noise. The lift’s inertial dampers negate any sensation of acceleration. The lift then moves about five hundred meters more horizontally.
The rapid movement of the lift is necessary, especially considering the sheer size of the Eclipse class vessel it was designed to transport its crew around in. The Eclipse class is the largest general combat vessel in the Xanthalian Armada, the third largest vessel in the fleet. Measuring three hundred and twenty-five billion cubic meters internally, its size is exceeded only by the general purpose deep-space Excursion class and the planet-destroying Apocalypse class. Fitted with seventeen thousand individual standard weapons arrays as well as a full complement of advanced weaponry, the Eclipse class is capable of taking on capital ships successfully with a minimum of support. XAS-251 is the oldest Eclipse class starship in the fleet, but it is kept up-to-date with regular maintenance.
Chapter four: Engineering
The turbolift halts and the doors open into the ship’s engineering section. The engineering staff, usually calm and composed, mill about chaotically. The Admiral smiles as he steps out into the sea of bustling crewmembers. A tight group huddles around the ship’s hovering, boxlike Infinite Energy Core, the vessel’s power supply. Above them and up two levels on engineering’s ceiling runs the Quantum Slipstream Core. The pleasant green-glowing cylindrical chamber runs almost the length of the ship, and powers the operation of the quantum slipstream drive that allows Xanthalian starships to travel at up to five hundred million times the speed of light. On the ground floor are the general operations systems, giving the engineering crew access to the hundreds of different systems operating within the ship, from life-support to gravity to the replicators. Several lifts and ladders allow access to the catwalks and platforms that are the second and third levels, which allow access to combat systems and the engines, respectively. All three levels are crowded, but the ground floor was the worst congested. There is an order to this chaos, Martha always sees to that.
A middle-aged woman of dark complexion and strong figure emerges from the crowd, yelling backwards at a young male ensign. “I said shut it off and I meant it! The AI knows her systems better than either of us, so listen to her!” She turns her head forward just in time to avoid a collision with her commanding officer. She draws to a quick halt and snaps to attention. “Admiral on deck!” The reaction is instant. Engineering falls completely silent as the fifty-odd staff turn to face the caller and salute.
“At ease.” Admiral Hauser grins. I’m never going to get tired of that.... The engineers return to their work somewhat more quietly and the lieutenant commander that was Martha Benson relaxes.
“What can I do for you Sir?”
“You can provide me with a report....” He stops the Commander as she turns to write one. “A verbal report will suffice, Commander.”
“Of course Sir. All systems are nominal, but primary shields are operating at sixty-eight percent. We’re currently recharging them to full capacity.” The Admiral nods his approval.
“Very good. That will be all.” Martha bows in respect, then salutes before wading off back into the crowd. The Admiral looks about once more, then returns to the turbolift, waiting a short time before the doors open with an empty waiting car behind them. He steps inside and the doors seal. He savors the sudden, blessed silence for a moment before giving his next order. “Deck twenty. Messhall.” The lift starts off again and the Admiral crosses his arms, waiting.