NationStates Jolt Archive

Corporal Joseph "Joe" Conway pulled his parachute straps over his UPNJ badge. He held his breath, thought nasty thoughts about the administrators, and jumped in the green entry goo.
He heard nothing, then a faint rumble as he left the airlock of the NJS John H. Montgomery.. He saw nothing. He felt nothing. Then another, louder rumble as the goo hit the atmosphere. A few minutes later, a kick to the guts, knocking the wind from him as the goo hit the ground.
Colonel Conway shivered as the goo fell off him. He was an experienced veteran by New Jovian standards, having survived three drops already, but it always shook him.
"Gosh-dang," he yelled, an incongruous curse for a man standing six foot ten inches tall and wielding a heavy long-range plasma rifle almost as tall as he was.
"C TOON!" he yelled, at the top of what lungs he had managed to restore by then. He was answered by other yells, and he heard more for other companies in the distance.
Within five minutes, most of the rest of his company surrounded him. "Where's Phillips?" he shouted, the noise again echoing through the stone spikes that riveted the dirt of this area of Dodge's Planet.
A private pointed. One of the spikes was red. "Oh," he said, a little bit of color leaving his face.
"Well, that's what happens when you jump without checking your goo color," he said. Actually, that was what happened when the primitive New Jovian computers screwed up, but might as well use it to train the troops.
"Well, what are you waiting for? I don't know about C Company, but I'm goin' to take Dodge City!"
A yell rose from the troops. This they understood.
As C Toon walked through the stony pillars, Joe Conway thought he saw a shooting star.

After two hours of marching, they had sustained, by New Jovian standards, heavy casualties. A careless soldier had tripped on a rock, rolled down a gully, and broken an arm. Two others had sliced limbs on the tall rocks.
After another hour, a soldier fell, the native Dodgite sniper bullet cutting straight through his body and sparking off the ground. As one, the company dropped; a well-placed grenade threw the sniper from his perch.
Then another New Jovian fell, and another. The Dodgites had come in from behind.
Sergeant Conway lifted his rifle and fired, an example for his company. They held their ground and shot the attackers, a ragged band of four or five. After the wounded were accounted for, C Toon had lost almost half of its troops. The soldiers were grumbling. Apathy was the main reason New Jupiter rarely won wars; soldiers, raised in privilege, expected everything to be easy and combat to be a game. Life almost always had different ideas.
Finally they broke into the arroyo where their supplies had been dropped; sure enough, a shiny metal capsule had dug a perfect circular crater in the middle of the tiny canyon. Men in Dodge insignia surrounded it, evil grins on their faces. One, sitting on top and laughing, saw C Toon walk in just as another spotted A Toon come in from a different direction.
It wasn't a battle, it was a slaughter.
After the supply capsule had been liberated, the New Jovian Airborne Corps saw fit to have a break.
As they relaxed and carried on, the sergeants remained aloof. "This scares me," said Conway to the other sergeant. "We should have blasted our way to Dodge City by now through a couple thousand dead Dodgites."
The other sergeant shook his head. "Not only are the maps faulty, but we're the only toons to get here in time. The rest of the company should have got here an hour before we did."
"That is strange..."

Just then a sentry cried out. Strange shapes were approaching from the canyon mouth.
"Who goes there?" he shouted. More shapes came, without a reply.
As the first came to the camplight, a flesh-colored and yellow thing as seen from a distance, reached out with a glowing blue claw and cut the sentry in half.
The soldiers acted instinctively; if something kills one of your mates, you shoot it. Bullets and plasma darts arced at the creatures, but only served to illuminate an invisible blue sphere around it.
"They all have shields?"
"Retreat!"
It was a rout before it began. Conway picked up a conn and ran while his toon fought. He ran from the arroyo and climbed a rock pillar, sobbing.
He spun around as a rock cracked behind him. One of the things was there...

Standing three meters tall and not nearly that wide, it looked too thin for its armor. At the base were two cloven feet, clad in a yellow plastic-like boot. Thin legs rose to backward knees, then to an emaciated torso. A small amount of sluglike belly rose to impossibly wide shoulders, a snouted and domed head where eyes glowed, and two long, thin arms. From the elbows to the wrists were yellow bracers, from which blue plasma blades gleamed above graceful, three-fingered hands.
http://www.quake.spb.ru/strategy/starcraft/protoss.jpg
A blade rose to disembowel him, then the being stopped, shrugged and lowered its arms. As it turned away, Conway could see the silhouette of a rose imprinted on the front of its body armor...
He grabbed the conn and pointed it at where the John H. Montgomery should have been. Nothing. Then where the other battleships should have been, and where the carrier should have been, and where the news ship should have been, and finally where the Dodgite space station should have been.
Nothing.
He broke down and sobbed...
Overhead a space fighter of a strange design shrieked.

Artax of the Mizar Tribe ran with his warriors to the new Nexus. The familiar four arms of the temple-like building overwhelmed him. He had been away from home for a long time, and here it was, following him to this cold rocky world already named Khaldro by a sardonic technician.
They stopped at the massive metal gates, which creaked aside a bit for him. Inside lay the court of the new planetary commander, a Judicator of the Anajim tribe.
They kneeled before the throne, reveling in the power of the Nexus flowing through their bodies. "It is done, Executor," said Artax.
"Well done. You and your tribe have done well to secure this part of this world. The Terrans only colonized one other place here, and that was bombed from orbit."
The hum of the Nexus was drowned out momentarily as a Carrier rumbled overhead. "Artax, you did extremely well. You and your warriors will be first to teleport to the next world."
Though he knelt in obesiance, Artax found himself swelling with pride.
"The Protoss have done well on this world, and from other reports, the Tolneps and the Eclipse Clan have had mighty victories as well. The Empire now holds five strongholds in this new universe. By the end of the month, we shall hold another, much greater world..."
Two humanoids walked through the gate; one tall, wide, and green, with small tusks barely not poking from his lower lip, the other short, thin, and gray, with huge glasses covering his eyes.
They stepped past Artax and shook the commander's hand. "Congratulations," said the Orc, a fiery circle alongside the rose on his cloak. The Tolnep just nodded, and the golden slashed diamond and rose gleamed in the blue light...

OCC: Finnaly another starcraft fan. ^_^

((OOC: I've been doing Starcraft for a while, then I was inactive, now I'm back. I need some huge world to invade and triumph over. It would be interesting if someone else would RP my conquest of it, but if I had to annex one of my own planets that would be cool too.))

"What is it?" President Kevin Whirle stared at the image in his screen. What appeared to be an ancient temple towered over the rocks of Dodge's Planet.
"We don't know, sir, and frankly, we're scared. They appeared out of nowhere, knocked our starships from the sky, and dominated the planet. We have sketchy reports of the same thing happening to a planet known as Piliminius, as well as to the fifth planet of the Kurushio system..."
"Well, well, well. What happened there?"
"We don't even have a picture. Different and markedly less advanced aliens appeared there too. One of them barely had more tech than we did. But they have superior tactics and they advance like they're protecting their homeworld."
"What do you plan to do about them?"
"Complain, mostly, and fortify the homeworlds."
"Good plan," said Whirle. "We broadcast tonight."
"Uh... sir?"
"What?"
"What about Thunderstraat?"
"What about them?"

Tagification.

OCC: Thinnk I could come into the picture as a Dark Templar exibition?

Thunderstraater Prime Minister Willem Skytrekker wiped his forehead. "What is it?" He had had a dreadful premonition that morning, and he had a gut feeling that something awful was happening.
The aide looked confused as well. "We've lost Kurushio."
"What is it?"
"I have no idea... Best I can figure, a bunch of huge scary spaceships appeared out of nowhere in Kurushian orbit. They proceeded to blast everything but them out of the sky. Then a bunch of troopships dropped in -"
"What do you mean? Didn't we try to fight?"
"Yes, but we had no time. Orbit was overrun in a matter of minutes. A troopship landed in every city larger than fifty thousand. That's the last we know."
"Who did it?"
"I don't know. They say they were short grayish humanoids about as dense as iron. They had a double insignia: a diamond with a slash and a single rose."
"A diamond with a slash..." Skytrekker rubbed his chin. "I know that from somewhere."
The aide had turned pale. Obviously he knew that from somewhere.
"I think I know where it's from..."

OCC: Thinnk I could come into the picture as a Dark Templar exibition?
((OOC: You'd need to show me some examples of exemplary RP from you. My plan for Roseway is to make something for people to whine about, like, "Why can't anything be as good as what Roseway did anymore?"))

"Ladies and gentlemen of the civilized universe, we need help..."

OCC:Ok. My best RPs are probably the one I'm doing right now on another board http://lordreaver.proboards30.com/index.cgi . Thats the board and I am Greek-Conquest.

OOC: Tolneps? The diamond with a slash? Do I see a Battlefield: Earth reference?

"Ladies and gentlemen of the civilized universe, we need help..."

Is this an actual request for other nations to join in? If it is, I've got a nifty idea.

Roseway: From what I can see so far, if they're not whining about the lack of RPs as good as this one in future, they'll still remember this.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the civilized universe, we need help..."

The troop carrying cruiser (light cruiser, but with few offensive weapons systems and room for lots of dropships) LRRSV Mr. Apricot, which happens to be near Dodge (New Jupiter?), picks up this message.

"Hello? Captain? We've got a message."
"What's it?"
"They need help."
"Who?"
"The New Jupiterians."
"Oh. They good?"
"Yep."
"Ok, New Jupiter transmitters, this is the LRRSV Mr. Apricot. We would be glad to oblige. What do you need help with?"

Klonor: Yes indeedy, you do.
Emerald Winter: I tried something akin to this not long ago. It failed. This one won't. And sure, what's your idea?

((OOC info: New Jupiter is a massive Jovian planet around a star called New Sol. It has three habitable moons, which are colonized. It was built like the U.S. but has fell into corruption.
Dodge's Planet is a contested world that New Jupiter had moved into for "peacekeeping" purposes. It had been occupied by farmers and prospectors.
Thunderstraat is a Star Empire owning about ten systems, and used to own New Jupiter.))

Whirle collapsed back into his desk and gulped down a glass of water. The speech had drained him.
"Uh... sir?"
He snapped back at the aide. "What now?"
"It appears there have been some... uh... technical difficulties. Only the first sentence of your speech has been broadcast..."
"Well, rebroadcast it then! Why the devil do you need me to tell you what to do?"
"Well, you see, there's, sort of, this cruiser, you see, from the Lunatic Retard Robots..."
Even after so many years, the name electrified President Whirle. "Put me online!"
He punched his screen. His techies had, of course, already made a connection with the cruiser. "This is Whirle. What is it?"

((OOC: The start of the speech was dotted (...) so I wouldn't have to draft a huge stirring masterpiece. I may write it later. Whirle never got the Mr Apricot's initial message, he's just starting a new conversation.))

((OOC: And if you haven't noticed it, Thunderstraat, New Jupiter and Roseway are all the same person.))

"Still no luck?"
The aide shook his head. "None at all."
Willem Skytrekker's pale face grew livid, blood pooling through the Thunderstraater sunken cheeks and fat eyebrows. "What use is a king who will not rule?" he yelled.
"None at all, sir?"
"Exactly. I'll tell you what... what was your name again?"
"Jan, sir."
"Yes, Jan, I'll tell you what. We will take back Kurushio Prime, take it fast and take it hard. Prepare the fleet."
"Which fleet, sir?"
"Take the Home Fleet. No one is attacking us, anyway. Send... we don't know how many there will be. Send all the Greenstar that moves to Kurushio. Whoever these people are, they should know not to mess with Thunderstraat."

Space in the Thunderstraat home system twisted, then set itself aright as thousands of vessels left the realm of finitely dimensional space for hyperspace.
In hyperspace (as Thunderstraaters reckon it) there are no limits, not on speed or on energy. There is enough there, for the taking, for anyone. The only problem, while on solid ground, was on getting hyperspatial energy to realspace without blasting a planet from the sky.
It actually took more energy in hyperspace to exceed lightspeed than in realspace (if such a thing were possible) but infinity subtracted from infinity remains infinity...
The Greenstars, though the smaller shipboard units actually glowed white and in all flavours of light, took the energy, radiating most of it into space, and put it in a form usable to mankind. The filters necessary to put hyperspatial energy into realspace with generators larger than, say, your average telephone pole, forced the light into a bright green.
And oh, how much light there was...

((OOC info: New Jupiter is a massive Jovian planet around a star called New Sol. It has three habitable moons, which are colonized. It was built like the U.S. but has fell into corruption.
Dodge's Planet is a contested world that New Jupiter had moved into for "peacekeeping" purposes. It had been occupied by farmers and prospectors.
Thunderstraat is a Star Empire owning about ten systems, and used to own New Jupiter.))

Whirle collapsed back into his desk and gulped down a glass of water. The speech had drained him.
"Uh... sir?"
He snapped back at the aide. "What now?"
"It appears there have been some... uh... technical difficulties. Only the first sentence of your speech has been broadcast..."
"Well, rebroadcast it then! Why the devil do you need me to tell you what to do?"
"Well, you see, there's, sort of, this cruiser, you see, from the Lunatic Retard Robots..."
Even after so many years, the name electrified President Whirle. "Put me online!"
He punched his screen. His techies had, of course, already made a connection with the cruiser. "This is Whirle. What is it?"

((OOC: The start of the speech was dotted (...) so I wouldn't have to draft a huge stirring masterpiece. I may write it later. Whirle never got the Mr Apricot's initial message, he's just starting a new conversation.))

"Hello, Mr. President! Nice to hear from you. You said, or we at least recieved a transmisson from a New Jupiter source that you required help. We are wondering what that help might be? We've got 500 naval infantrymen plus vehicles if you need a rapid-reaction force. A good two thousand more are not a far distance away."

OCC:

The planet of The Neu Wirlde (http://well-of-souls.com/homeworld/hws/hw2/images/concept_Hiigara.jpg) is an LRR planet near the galactic center. It is heavily industrialized, specializing in technology and heavy equipment. It is not very heavily defended, because it is mostly its own planet (like England and Ireland) and has its own defense forces, equipped with old LRR equipment.

Emerald Winter: I tried something akin to this not long ago. It failed. This one won't. And sure, what's your idea?

OOC: Emerald Winter exists in the present, but hasn't advanced beyond WWI technology due to a 200-year-long Civil War. In New Jupiter's first post he said, and I'm quoting:

"Apathy was the main reason New Jupiter rarely won wars; soldiers, raised in privilege, expected everything to be easy and combat to be a game. Life almost always had different ideas"

Soldiers from Emerald Winter are battle-hardened beyond belief. They expect life to be hard, battle to be ugly, and death to take place in a muddy arm-pit of a battlefield noone's ever heard of. Their combative spirit is strong, and they shy away from nothing in combat. I was thinking that the Reds, the winning faction in the Civil War so far, could make an exchange: In exchange for technology and training to use it, New Jupiter gets soldiers from Emerald Winter to help them fight.

OCC: Telegram me the answer about the dark templar. I will be up for awhile for immediate responce.

**TAG pending a time when I'm not about to go on a beating spree**

Bump

A small probe, which was unmarked, almost invisible, and about a third the size of your average molocule drifted past.
It went 'ping'.
The 'ping' traveled about a milimeter before it entered hyperspace.
Quite a long way away several people in a listening post floating in the middle of nowhere heard the 'ping', their computer mulled it over a few times and put the translation in visual form.
One of the crew picked up a device similar to the probe, only much, much larger and spoke.
Yet further away a man on Earth picked up a device similar to the device that was similar to the probe, and listened.
He picked up a device which was strikingly similar to a pen (Which it, in fact, was) and wrote something down.
He put the note into a cylinder, and put the cylinder into another, much longer cylinder, which whisked it away toward another set of offices.
There a clerk read it, the clerk, after eating his lunch, walked to his superiors office, and gave it to him.
The superior then gave it to his superior, who handed it off to a messenger.
The messenger took the cylinder down the road to another, much more important building with more guards around it, and handed it to another messenger.
This messenger ran up a few flights of stairs, and then noticed an gravtube. He stepped in and floated the rest of the way to the top of the building.
He then handed the cylinder to the Minister of Intelligence's secretary, who was just finishing her lunch.
There was a brief conversation and some nodding.
A short while later the secretary walked into the Ministers office and handed him the cylinder, which he opened.
He read the note.
"Meh, let them deal with it, Im tired and I think Ill retire early."
He threw the note into a nearby garbage can.
A few hours later the janitor picked the can up and walked out, on his way to the dumpster the note fell out near the desk of a junior Intelligence officer who picked it up and decided it was important.

Soldiers from Emerald Winter are battle-hardened beyond belief. They expect life to be hard, battle to be ugly, and death to take place in a muddy arm-pit of a battlefield noone's ever heard of. Their combative spirit is strong, and they shy away from nothing in combat. I was thinking that the Reds, the winning faction in the Civil War so far, could make an exchange: In exchange for technology and training to use it, New Jupiter gets soldiers from Emerald Winter to help them fight.
That sounds good. Now we just need somebody, maybe President Whirle to make it interesting, to crashland in (on?) Emerald Winter, maybe you could prove your worth by RPing a rescue (I'd give my RP privileges [for the story] to you for that), and we'd negotiate the tech.

"That ____ing mechanical ____... Yes, we desperately need help. One of our worlds has been totally and completely conquered. The enemy came in hard and came in instantaneously. They clobbered us without breaking a sweat.
"Dodge's Planet was a contested world about three parsecs from here. It is no longer contested it. The Rosies took it in about three hours.
"We don't know where they'll hit next. They might settle where they invaded and never fire a shot in anger again, but I doubt that. And if they expand from their current conquests, the New Solar System is next.
"So... if you could take Dodge's Planet. Just take it. We don't want it anymore. Destroy those freaky temples. Keep it for yourself."

((OOC: The first battle for Dodge's Planet will result in a resounding defeat. The second will result in almost one casualty. The third battle will drive the Imperials (Rosies or Rosewegians) from the planet. This is my plot curve and it's how it will go.))

OCC: Is that directed towards me?

NJ: My tech level is World War One, but Emerald Winter exists in the 'present' time.

OCC:This is ESF using the puppet I made for this thread.
IC:
Several small shuttles and 2 arbiters jump out of hyperspace over Dodge Planet.
"It is the will of the the Council that we should only send 25% of our force down there to evaluate the situation and provide a recon."
4 shuttles carrying 15 Dark Templar warriors each head down to the surface of the planet. They land in a jungle and start to scout te area.

((OOC: Umm... thanks, but you're going to need a lot better RP than that. "They land in a jungle and start to scout te area..." I mean, thanks for trying, but try and give a little information, story maybe, you know, ever read science fiction books? Something like that, only you make it.))

Captain Raoul T. Halfstraat stared at his screen with a grim expression on his face. The moist jungle of Kurushio Prime, along with the massive Kurushian icecaps that replaced oceans on the Star Empire's famous scientific center. The green and white did not bother him, however, quite so much as the Rosie fleet parked around it. The battleships bristled with guns and engines. Some docked with others. Some descended to the newly silent world below. All were unknown. All were different in a way that precluded human construction.
"Do they see us?" The question had been asked already. There was nothing else to do.
"We're doing everything we can for them to not, but if they do, there's nothing we can do about it." Marie Halfstraat, Raoul's wife of ten years and countless missions, raids, and battles, looked as grim as he did. They had gone up against New Jovian rebels, Klonorian freighters, Nustraat royalists, insane AIs, kung-fu holographs, and even a New Age energy blob, but nothing that could break the laws of nature and get away with it while destroying the Kurushian orbital defenses almost without trying. They had overcome the unknown, but the unknown had always been of lesser or equal ability. This was beyond their capability.
"Sir?" What's-her-name, the new intern from Kata Point, looked alert. Honor, that's what it was. Honour Herringson. What kind of a name was that for a girl trying to make her way in the world?
"Miss Herringson."
"The first ripple passed through the fleet's node. They should be in a spot about two k-klicks ninety degrees by about 1300."
Would they still be there by then?
Apparently not. The intern spoke again. "And... sir... one of their ships broke off orbit and is heading this way. A big ship."
"Zoom, full-screen."
The screen changed to show a very slightly pixellated view of an alien battleship. Kurushio gleamed off its golden hide. The gleaming armor and the gunports that protruded almost from every angle seemed to have been hand-polished. Perhaps they were. Who knew anything about these aliens but the aliens themselves?
Well, the ITN Marie was here to see.
The view was changing rather fast. A white glow shone from behind the battleship. Those engines were better than anything Thunderstraater scientists had ever dreamed of. What did the Kurushians think about the aliens? Were they happy about so much new tech appearing right above them? Were they angry about their lifes' work becoming obsolete before their eyes?
Were there any Kurushians left?
The invaders, if they knew English or Afrikaans by now, could tell the Marie all that and more.
"Take me to hailing frequency. I want to - no, on second thought make that everything we've got broadcasting at them. Pipe it to the screen."
"Done."
Raoul stared at the now-blank screen and squared his shoulders. "This is Captain Raoul Tiberius Halfstraat of the ITN Marie. Identify yours -"

As the world glowed first white then red then black, Raoul Halfstraat found himself strangely detached. We don't stand a chance, he thought, and he was right...

((OOC: LRR, yes. EW, I'm space-tech but could easily find a way for whoever to get wherever. Are you on Earth?))

Light from a yellow sun came to the planet of New Jupiter. It came to the billowing storm clouds and distinctive red spot that had earned the ordinary-looking gas giant a more unique name. It came to the orbital colonies and research stations spread like a ring around the planet. It came to the three habitable moons that by some freak of nature had been at just the right place for good climates. One moon was an orange desert dotted with arcologies. One was a green-gray world with huge lakes and small cities. The other was a glacier-locked snowball. All three had sizable populations, somewhat controlled by a representative government based on the old American democracy.
It came to the moon that had for eons gone through the New Jovian stormclouds on part of its orbit. That moon had been carved by the swirling ammonia and hydrogen clouds until it literally was empty. A shell encased a labyrinth of dirt pathways that followed no logical pattern. Or, at least, it was that way until Thunderstraat had invaded. New Jupiter had been the only conquered world to offer the imperialists any resistance at all, and the only one to throw off the yoke and continually beat back Thunderstraat's sizable space navy. The Star Empire had undertaken a huge construction project to pull the moon from its orbit and into a more stable one. It had also converted the moon into a giant shipyard, the pride of that empire and source of a few fleets that while, in the scope of Thunderstraat, had been huge, had by the rest of the civilized universe been seen as crude, barbaric, and very, very small.
By now, the Thunderstraaters had learned to cope without the Shipyard World. A few of the less patriotic of the New Jovians believed that the entire existance of their world was on the suffrage of their enormous neighbor.
In a small office on the top floor of a large arcology on the desert planet, the light was blocked by a dark screen. Had it not been interrupted, it would have shined right in the eyes of the brand-new President of the United Planet-states of New Jupiter.
He was the fifth man to take that office, and was viewed as second only to the first, who had led the daring revolt and driven out the oppressors while managing to have a two-day growth of beard for weeks at a time. This new president had never been tested, like the general he had defeated to gain this office, but he would work out great in any emergency possible, or so thought the average voter. He loved freedom and hated imperialism, unless of course it was to further democracy by bringing the light to other worlds.
He had never been tested. Yes, never. Not until now...
President Cecil Clives "Jack" Whirle waited impatiently. News of the invaders was slow in coming, and sketchy at that. An unconfirmed reports of a Thunderstraater privateer nearing Kurushio Prime but being blasted by the invaders had been circulated by a trusted bandit news espionage agency, The Hinterland Nova-Eagle.
There it went: a bell tone from near the window. They had something they needed him to hear...
"Sir, the Thunderstraater space navy is approaching Kurushio Prime. They've let us take a cloaked observer, with direct broadcast here."
"On-screen."
It always made him feel funny, saying that. It was like he was a privateer captain or something akin to it...
The screen changed to show a reddish sun, a small-mooned green-white dot, and the Home Fleet of the Imperial Thunderstraater Navy. In the distance, golden glitters that couldn't be stars orbited the planet.
"This is Carlos Barry, reporting for NJEN News, and good morning to you. On the screen you see the Thunderstraater Home Fleet, deployed to engage the alien fleet that conquered Kurushio Prime last night.
"In the distance you see the star Kurushio and the planet itself. Kurushio Prime is the only readily habitable planet in the system - "
Why do they think we need to know this? But hey, whatever the newsies want-
"In the foreground is the Home Fleet itself. The two large cubic ships are the Ormal and the Illuin, the two newest Greenstar carrier-factory ships. For more information on the Greenstar and other star drives see our website at - "
We war, and they advertise...
"The green glow you see now coming from them is the Greenstar engine itself and - look, we have a great view of the lanterns coming online - " Six huge double cylinders glowed green. They were simply power producers, with no weapons themselves.
"The other large ships are the Celebrog-class battleships and the Angbrog-class heavy destroyers. Note the distinctive radial-cylinder design of the Celebrogs, and the sharp points of the - "
Everyone who's ever watched TV before in this country knows the design of Thunderstraater capital ships...
"Now that the lanterns have warmed up, the rest of the ships are receiving extra energy from them. The power cells drained in transit from Cathedral will be refilled rather quickly, and they will speed up - yes, there they go." The fleet advanced, with a few stragglers going by the camera. The view did not.
"As you can see, the military engines on those ships far outstrip those of this commercial schooner. We are trying to catch up... let's hope we get there before the fighting starts."
Why?
Several minutes passed, and advertisements started to crawl up the screen. The image changed slowly, but after perhaps ten silent minutes the planet grew larger.
So did the alien fleet.

[quote="New Jupiter"]((OOC: EW, I'm space-tech but could easily find a way for whoever to get wherever. Are you on Earth?))

Indeed.

((OOC: Got it. And may I compliment you on your Aviram letters? I wish I'd thought of that...))

Halfadmiral Nicholas Q. "Quog" Snowl strode.
It is very rare to see a Tolnep stride. Mostly they walk. Or slink. Yes, they slink a lot. Running, yes. Striding...
The half-gee corridors of the Creethpryde echoed with the rythms of the striding of H-ad Quog. The striding stopped as he entered the vermillion weave of the bridge, the living carpet absorbing all sound from his oversized gleaming gold boots.
"What's up?"
Doubleadmiral Safareter Schamm, the born-and-bred Aiur Tolnep admiral last seen in the disastrous Passing of the Grand Fleet, still lived on in his former commands. Schamm's brilliant tactics and patriotic zeal existed along with his decidedly unmilitary manner. Quog, who was born on Creeth but raised by human parents on the planet Chihuahua, didn't wear the t-shirt and sneakers to the bridge, yet, but his hero-worship extended to his greeting.
"We've identified the unknown. It's a newsie, probably from the agressors on Khay... Kah... wherever the Protoss landed. The fleet's outstripped it, which is good, because I don't want to take a chance on not being shown to these folks' civilized universe..."
"Good call. And... did you say folks?"
"Yes, sir. Shall we engage?"
Quog cracked his knuckles, another habit from his adoptive human father. "Yes indeed..."
The dull gray screen flipped onto the starfield view: just stars, galaxies, and the Lightning fleet.
The fleets had not fired on each other so, in an act of ettiquette obviously multiversal, they simply formed op in front of each other and stopped, the Imperial fleet much bigger than the Lightning Rosewegian fleet.
Or not. The two biggest and ugliest Lightning vessels were protruding long rods.
"A weapon?"
"Maybe..."
Ever so slowly, white beams from the rods shot through the vacuum. One hit the Creethpryde's shields, the other the shields of another major capital ship.
The Creethpryde, as the flagship, had extra-tough shields. Everything was bigger and more expensive. Unfortunately, in the New Asart, this was not the case. The New Asart simply disentegrated, the white flash not hiding nearly enough of the disapparation of the other ship. The Creethpryde was somewhat luckier.
Klaxons roared through the ship. Warning lights came on, with sexy voices giving reports of the futility of not packing lifebubbles.
"Captain! We've lost half the freakin' ship!"
"What do we have left?"
"Core systems, impulse drive. We aren't dead, most of us, but we're out. Most of our resources are going to go into rescue until the battle is over."
"What was that?"
"The white was probably ionized particles. The boom was like a lightning flash, only about a googol greater... I'd say hypertaps."
"The big ones must have the taps! Destroy them first!"
"Already have!"
While the flagship was crippled, the enemy fleet fared far less well. One of the big uglies was torn in two, the other drifted, dead. Strange green ships were zapping Tolneps but falling fast. Much of the enemy's technology was primitive.
Much of anything is primitive compared to the Empire...
It took only fifteen minutes. Half the Lightning ships were gone, the other half disabled. R&R shuttles already descended to them. The newsie floated unmolested through the wreckage, in almost a horrified manner.
The Tolneps had only lost five ships, most of them small cruisers, and eight fighters.
"Well, that was easy. Would anyone like some tea?"
Quog could not figure out why his crew stared at him like that...

(OOC: Hey Roseway, this is 5CN's puppet, can I come in?)

((OOC: Got it. And may I compliment you on your Aviram letters? I wish I'd thought of that...))

Thank you for the kind words.

The LRRSV John Entwhistle, a massive Who class battlefreighter (the LRR battlefreighter classes are Who, Savuka, and Jimi Hendrix) exits hyperspace at the site of the battle......

((OOC: 5CN, I'd be honored. I know who you are as I am playing three nations here.
LRR, dramatic necessity declares that that ship must either be destroyed or run away. The Empire will not begin to lose for a while.))

Imagine a large underground bunker with a long conference table hastily shoved in amongst the instruments.
Imagine a huge plasma television screen floating in a grav field near the table.
Imagine President Jack Whirle, Vice President Tommy Jenkins, Speaker of the House Martin del Rey, and about ten of the rest of the most powerful men in New Jupiter sitting at that table.
This scene would be, if you have imagined it, very similar to what was going on in a large underground bunker, or NEJOD (NEw JOvian Defense), at the bottom of a very large lake in the temperate moon of New Jupiter.
Now imagine them gaping in awe.
This was exactly how it was. Ten minutes after the last Thunderstraater ship had been disabled, not a word had been said.
The announcer droned on, to be sure. "...two of the most notable military absences from the battle were the sister ships Ormal and Illuin, who caused the only Rosie capital ship kills yet recorded. Thunderstraater military scientists theorize that the energy blast that destroyed the two largest Rosie vessels drained the Greenstar ships of power completely, perhaps melting components of the complex hyper tap. The scientists are eager to see how they can improve this in what they call 'next time'..."
Finally Whirle stood, resting his knuckles on the table. He looked at the table, but his voice rang out clear across the room.
"Prepare a diplomatic shuttle," he said. "And put me on it. I'm going to Piliminius..."
Then came the clamor. These men were his friends (how else could one obtain power?) and allies, honorable men all, and they could not stand back and watch their president go commit suicide. "But Jack," said the Secretary of Defense. "They say the cruelest Rosies yet are the green ones that took Piliminius!"
"They are cruel," said Whirle. "But oftentimes the cruelest man is the most honorable. I go to see what they want of us."
With that he stood up and left...

((OOC: 5CN, I'd be honored. I know who you are as I am playing three nations here.
LRR, dramatic necessity declares that that ship must either be destroyed or run away. The Empire will not begin to lose for a while.))

OCC: Forget about it then.

((OOC: 5CN, I'd be honored. I know who you are as I am playing three nations here.
LRR, dramatic necessity declares that that ship must either be destroyed or run away. The Empire will not begin to lose for a while.))

OCC: Forget about it then. I'm not about to loose a ship named after John Entwhistle.

A small assault frigate, lightly armed, but heavily armored and shield and was faster than the standard vessel of its class, quickly lanced through space, heading at maximum speed towards a small planet in what was considered by many as the literal “Middle of Nowhere.” The Hermes, designation CNSS-2902, was one of the fastest warships in the Combined 5CN Navy and was well suited for its task, to investigate news of unsettling developments on a planet known only as Kurushio Prime.

The Captain of the Hermes, Louis Tyke sat unsettled in his seat at the bridge of the vessel. Although he was commanding a fast warship, Louis felt uncomfortable about the paucity of weaponry aboard his vessel. For the umpteenth time, Louis checked over the scannars as his bored crew stumbled along. However, Louis felt a little safer because of the marine company stationed aboard the warship and nodded at the marine commander, Major Isaac Hendric, who paced slowly and unnerving behind the captain's chair.

Finally after a long travel, the Hermes arrived in orbit around Dodge's Planet. Slowly a small transport descended from the Hermes's docking bay, laden with the marine company, equipped with state-of-the-art equipment. The transport, activated its shield and began to head slowly for the planet, while the Hermes quietly scanned the surrounding area. Louis nearly fainted when the scanners detected a presence of a fleet of alien warships nearby. Surprised, the Hermes swiftly disappeared from view as it cloaked, its stealthy features and its cloaking device hopefully concealing it from the aliens...

Also in orbit above Dodge's Planet, the LRRSV <whatever I named it> prepares to blow stuff up.

"So, this is what they wanted us to do?"
"Yep."
"Okay, target torpedo batteries on the temple-like structures on the planet's surface. Bring us into a fast orbit."
"Aye, sir."
"All batteries are targeted."
"Reactors on 80 percent power. Accelerating to fast orbit."
"Fire appropriately."
"Aye, sir."

Torpedos streak out of the torpedo bays on the light cruiser, headed for the temples.....

(Imagine martial drums and horns)
Jack Whirle looked like... heck. He hadn't shaved. He hadn't bathed. For the past twenty-four hours, he had been at NEJOD examining the United Planetstates' defenses.
As he strode through Atlantis Naval Base at the bottom of Lake Superior on New Europa, the diplomatic shuttle rose from the floor in front of one of the huge windows. Whirle, carrying only a briefcase with his laptop, stepped onto the ramp, and the shuttle rose, shifting through the window with a slight shudder as the force-field reacted to the titanium hull.
Through the freshwater of the lake, the shuttle climbed, until it reached the surface and accelerated. Within ten minutes, it had docked with its warp ring. In another three, all traces of the most powerful man in New Sol were gone...