NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: see here for info on the Duke's revival http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=144171&

IC:

The Duke walked through the streets, the brim of his hat down to cover his eyes and the collar of his coat up to cover his mouth (He has never been very comfortable with the shape of his lips. It all stems from a childhood trauma.........). Yet he still draws stares, dozens of passerbys staring and whispering to each other

"Jesus Christ, look at those lips!" (j/k)

Seriously:

Although none say, everybody thinks it:

"Dear God, it's the Duke!"

The whispering grows until people don't even bother to hide it anymore, they stare openly and gossip about who this strange person might be. The Duke was sterile and had no heirs, and all the Royal Cousins had slaughtered each other competing for the Throne. With no relatives, who could resemble the Duke in such an extreme way?

He passed onward, moving through the city and approaching the Vicegral Palace. He walks up to the gate, inserting his own password (which the Lil missians had never bothered to change) and walking in to what is supposed to be the most secure building in Deneb.

The guards, of course, approach with the usual "Halt, identify yourself!" babble that security guards seem to spend hours memorizing. The Duke, of course, gives them that imperial stare that you always see in the movies, and it fails like it always does in the movies. He then falls back on his backup weapon: Bribery!

With the guards suitable deterred (it seems there was a mysterious squirrely shaped object seen near the north gate) and the doors unlocked, the Duke waltzes home. He enters the Palace, not even needing to open his eyes, time away has not seen fit to dull his memories of his childhood home. Following the twisting corridors he reaches the communications room, keying up a system wide broadcast along with the Palace PA system.

"Attention loyal subjects, I have returned! This is your Grand Duke, Solomon Klonor, addressing you from within the Vicegral Palace on the Denebian homeworld. The time has come for Klonor to be re-born! For this to happen, we must banish the foreigners who now rule our land! Cast out the soldiers of Lil miss, help me make Klonor great once more!"

OOC: Just to make it clear, this is a declaration of war on Lil miss for control of Deneb. The DRA and SR-2091 wont be involved here, it'll be mainly just the inhabitants of Deneb and whatever ships they manage to steal from the Lil miss Navy (which they, of course, stole from Klonor in the first place). Oh, anybody else who wants to get involed should TG either me or Lil miss for an invite.

OOC: And here's where everything goes to hell.

Quick Trivia Question: Guess who just decided to leave NS. If this takes you more than one guess you should be castrated, then shot.

Lil miss has chosen to stop RP'ing on NationStates. Well, that's not really true. To stop RP'ing he would have needed to RP in the first place. I'm sure I don't need to tell you how that went.

Anyway, the key player in this RP is no longer here. Dandy. I had so much stuff riding on this (Several wars, dozens of negotiation RP's, and eventually the final re-formation of the Klonor Empire) and now I end up RP'ing with myself. Sadly, that isn't as much fun as many others things I do by myself :wink:

Okay, I still want this RP to go forward. I have to much riding on it, and I think it would be to much fun to just abandon. So, I need a Lil miss replacement. Lil has decided to keep his nation (logging back in every week or so to keep it from being deleted) so you wont be able to post using Lil miss, but I'd like somebody to take control of his nation (IC'ly). You RP the war, the resulting negotiations, etc.

Three conditions:

1) You must have prior knowledge and experience with Klonor ships
2) You know that this will end with my controlling the Deneb system
3) (The most important) You must spell correctly! That includes punctuation marks, capitalization, etc. I don't care how well of a strategist you are, or how well you could RP, or even if you're willing to mail me $20 RL money, if you don't spell correctly you will not be in this RP.

Thank you. Post here or TG me if you wish to apply.

(OOC: Oh, so you just chose to ignore Raem?)

OOC: Huh?

(OOC: Look at the thread about the Duke's revival. Look at the 2nd last post. I can't believe you missed it, but I guess things like that happen. It's pretty important and all, considering this thread's existence for one.)

OOC: Unless I missed something, it's just Raem jumping into Deneb. That's Lil miss's area (At least, it was). I don't see what it has to do with this.

(OOC: It has everything to do with this. He's searching for someone there. He did it on your Duke's REVIVAL THREAD. Add two and two together, and it's pretty damn obvious what he's trying to do. Considering that they have had a chance of seeing him just appear once before afterdying, the DE most likely would be... Interested in him. For their longlasting torturing pleasure, or something.)

OOC: He hasn't posted them doing anything except jumping into the system. Unless Raem posts as them doing something, they didn't do it. Besides, the only contact (IC'ly) Klonor and Raem has had was an all out assault on a Klonor military base (It was actually one of my first RP's, and led to the development of my now famous Harbinger Cannons). Would Raem even know that I am ruled by a Duke, or that he has died and (previously) come back to life? Before this thread nobody would even know the Duke was alive again (except for that priest he met, and he probably killed that guy). Once again, it's just Raem entering Deneb. That's Lil miss's territory, since he controls Deneb (IC'ly)

OOC: :oops: Okay, scratch what I just said. I mis-read Raem's post. :oops: Sorry. :oops: Anyway, it still doesn't impact this. Like I said before (in the post that doesn't make sense now) Raem would have no way of knowing of the Duke's reincarnation. Nobody knows of the Duke's reincarnation except one now dead priest. Well, they know now, since he just made that transmission, but not back then when he made his post.

(OOC: They "jumped" onto the planet through the Web, not into the orbit or anything, which can be easily seen from his post. As he stated in his post, he sent groups of people not ships or anything of that sort. Oh right, and they are doing something, as this quote says:

"The armored figure manning the portal hisses softly at them, instructing them to find their target swiftly and return to rejoin the fleet."

Would Raem even know that I am ruled by a Duke, or that he has died and (previously) come back to life?

Why wouldn't they know, at least of the Duke's immortality? I don't see why they wouldn't notice someone just coming back after being killed and taking control of an empire again. Then they would just have to wait until he would go forth and "die" again, wait for him to suddenly become alive again (which is obviously enough proof of his immortality) and go after him. I don't think the Dark Eldar would really care about who's your ruler, but they might just care of someone who's immortal.

Wonder why *I* am the one posting here about Raem's intentions... Guess having all my own threads clogged up with people who don't post has something to do with it.)

OOC: As I just said, I mis-read his post. I was under the assumption that it was ships jumping into space, not infantry jumping onto the surface of a planet. The word 'fleet' is what misled me (I think) since that implies ships.

Anyway, how would anybody know of the Dukes immortality? It wasn't publicised when it happened, and the only time he's ever died was when Salm shot him, and he could easily have just been wearing a force-shield and not been killed at all. So, what information does Raem have that could tell him the Duke is immortal? Also, like I just said, how would he know the Duke is alive now? Only one single person saw him, and he's dead. Are you saying Raem has the ability to know everything that goes on anywhere? Cause if so, then you're saying he godmods, and I think Raem should be the one to say that, not you.

Now, any takers for the RP?

So, what information does Raem have that could tell him the Duke is immortal?

(OOC: Considering that they are Dark Eldar, I would guess they wouldn't go with the logical, more humanly possible conclusions. I would also guess that they have seen people coming back before. The kind of immortality your Duke has also would enable the DE to torture him for as long as they would want.)

Also, like I just said, how would he know the Duke is alive now?

Maybe he put sensors in the grave or to its vicinity, I don't know. If the Dark Eldar wanted to see if he is really immortal, as they had thought because of past experience, they could've just left something there. And when he came alive once again, it would've been confirmed, and all they'd need to do is to go there and take the Duke with 'em. But you'd have to ask Raem of how he himself thought he'd pull it off, since I'm just speculating. I'm not the most knowledgeable person about DE technology and psychology.)

OOC: Here's an idea, why don't you just leave me alone? Seriously, why do you feel the need to constantly pester me? You have no place here, so why the hell do you even care? If Raem meant something, then let Raem say it. You're not Raem (unless some unknown puppet mastery is in play here) and you have no place in even theorizing about Raem's actions. Let him post, and get the hell off my thread.

OOC: *Cough* Ladies and Gentlemen, I will be taking the place of Lil Miss IC in this RP with Klonor's approval. A disclaimer I'll put up right now to avoid any confusion. Any atrocities or war crimes committed in one of my posts are by personnel serving in the Lil Miss military, not Verniian personnel. Vernii is not responsible for anything that happens in the course of this RP. An IC response will be posted in a few minutes.

Security personnel burst into Planetary Governor Jean Perry's office in the Viceregal Palace. He rose startled from his huge oak desk, "What's going on here?!" he shouted.

"Security breach Sir. A dissident claiming to be the Duke has been broadcasting anti-government messages, and we've traced the origin to this building. Palace Security is doing a sweep now."

Dozens of teams of three men each began searching the enormous palace room by room, aided by thermal sensors and life sign sensors.

One of the security teams bursts into the Duke's broadcasting room, catching him with his feet on a chair and a collostomizer in his hand.

"Hey diddle diddle, said the cat with the fiddle."

And he promptly knocks back the entire glass.

The security team stands there for a moment, somewhat shocked by the casual nature of the intruder. A look of comprehension dawns on the face of the team leader, and he draws his sidearm, leveling it at the Duke's chest.

"Duke Solomon Klonor, you are under arrest for incitement to riot, subverive activies, and broadcasting without a license. Stand up and place your hands on your head, slowly."

He stands, as the soldier ordered, but leaves his hands flat in front of him instead of above his head.

"The cow jumped over the moon."

The sidearm promptly flies from the soldiers arms, twisting through the air and metling before their very eyes.

"The old dog laughed to see such a sport, and the dish ran away with the spoon."

The raises his arms again, this time pointing directly at the center mans head.

"Bang, you're dead."

The leader quickly dropped to the ground as his head exploded, showering the other two troopers in blood and bits of brain and skull. The other two troopers wasted no time in puling out their sidearms and opening fire.

Bullets fly across the room, gaping holes are torn through walls, people all throughout the building pause at the gunfire, and the Duke is nowhere to be seen.

"You'd think that after living in this place for years they'd know to de-activate the Phase Gates."

He calmly walks down the corridors of the Vicegral Palace, hundreds of meters away from his previous position after he was shifted at the speed of light through the Phase Gate built into the floor of the communications room.

"Seriously, an entire Jimathonian Invasion was dropped into a lava pit and completel wiped out. Wouldn't somebody want to make sure it doesn't happen to them?"

Entering yet another room (and stopping at the complimentary minibar) he crosses to the wall panel, flipping up one of the many portraits and paintings and pressing one of the buttons beneath it.

"Attention GDD Galatea, the chicken has roosted."

He then exits the room, marching down the hallways and calling for his countrymen to come to his aide against the Conquerors.

Wearomi Ejycene sat in his den, a KSMAR-983 disassembled on the floor in front of him and the doorbell ringing like a Banshee. When he finishes cleaning and polishing every individual piece, down to the tiny screws which hold the outer casing in place, he rises and crosses to the door, welcoming in his first lieutenant. Well, he welcomed in the man who had once been his first lieutenant. Now 97 years old, Wearomi Ejycene had long since left military service.

"John, welcome! I'm glad you could make it so fast! How are you?"

"Not as well as I was 10 minutes ago. Why the hell did it take you 20 minutes to answer the door?"

"I was cleaning Marcy."

Nothing further is needed, John knows the kind of bond between soldiers and the weapons they carry.

"Okay. What was so important that I had to come across the city during rush hour?"

"Haven't you been watching the news?"

"No, why? Has another puma been stuck in a tree?"

"No you blasted idiot, the Duke is back!"

"WHAT?????????"

"He's in the Vicegral Palace right now, and from what I can tell he's playing pattycake with their security."

"Holy shit. What are you planning?"

"Exactly what you're thinking. We took an oath, and I damn well plan to live up to it. Go get Suzy, then look up the rest of the DD's...... we're going back to work."

#tagged...

They might have been a field trip from a retirement home, 24 men of extreme old age walking along the park paths. Old men in rather equisite physical condition, but old men nontheless. As they approach the Vicegral Palace, along the outer edge of the park, they spread and finger their walking canes, seeming to be holding them at angles not very well suited to helping them walk.

"Well, John, I'm thinking sector A-3. Always a lack of Camera coverage there."

"Yeah, but always extra guards as well. Ever since the Sons of Dor slipped in there it's been a focal point for the guards."

"Good point. How many grenades we got?"

"Only 27. Why, what are you thinking?"

"Just pass 'em forward and you'll see."

Some small satchels are exchanged and the groups begins to move once again, approaching security station A-3

"Excuse me, sir?"

The secdurity guards stands up, approaching the old man who had just addressed him

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"Yes, you can. Hold this, please."

A grenade is thrust into his hands, and then the barell of a gun thrusts into his gut.

"Turn around and walk back to the security station. Once there, drop the grenade and run. Anything else, and we'll just deliver it ourselves. Got it?"

The guard merely nods, turning and slowly walking to the station. Once there he drops the grenade and runs (as ordered), but not before slapping the general alarm and reaching for his sidearm.

"Fool."

The guard is sliced to pieces, over a dozen streams of bullets impacting him at nearly the same time.

"Well, let's get the Duke out of there. Have at 'em!"

The old men charge forward, their guns up and faces set. For the first time since the Great Fall, the Death Dealers set foot inside the Vicegral Palace.

The explosion shatters the security station, and alarms wail across the palace complex.

"What the hell was that?!" shouted Governor Perry. The head of the security team listened intently to his earcom for a moment, "There's been an explosion at Gate A-3. Two dozen intruders have been spotted on the grounds. Security teams are being deployed against them as we speak, and an Intervention battalion is on its way, it should be here in fifteen minutes."

Four teams of a dozen men each charged across the palace grounds toward the intruders, and weapon shots rang out, scattered at first but then intensifying in fury.

The DD's held their ground, holed up in what was formerly security station A-3. Twenty men hunced down, formulating their plans as the four heavy weapons experts layed down a heavy covering fire (mainly shotguns and heavy caliber machine guns). They weren't aiming to kill, just to keep the advancing men at bay.

"The neural net is reading on floor three, and it just jumped ther from Sub-Level 7. It's definitely the Duke."

"So, we know where he is. How do we get there?"

"When's the last time you visited the Louvre?"

Joh pauses for a moment, then smiles.

"Second lobby hallway, right?"

"You got it, let's move."

At a silent signal the twenty hunched men stood up, leveling their assault rifles and going full automatic at the nearest group as a hail of grenades fly at the other three groups.

Rein made his way quickly toward the Viceregal Palace. Why won't the man just stay dead? He thought exasperatedly. He had nothing against the Duke personally, but this wasn't what he had signed up for when he applied for a post in Guanyan Intelligence.

To his suprise, there was what looked like a general riot forming at the gate. Wait, that's no riot! Those old men have military-grade weapons! Well, enemy of my enemy is my friend I suppose. Pulling his Stinger sidearm, he carefully crouched behind a wall unseen (being 7'3", only a wall could truly hide him unless he used his Black Ops equipment.)

He knew that more guards would soon arive, probably attacking the old men from behind after they had entered the building. Well, they would be in for one heck of a suprise.

BUMP

OOC: Sorry about the delay...

Twelve security guards crumple to the ground dead as they are hit by the rebels' fire. Several of the surviving guards dive for cover even as the rest of their comrades continue their fire.
**
A dozen light tanks and APCs forced their way through the crowded traffic of the city, here and there a parked car was smashed underneath the treads of an armored vehicle, and screaming pedestrians dove out of the convoys way. A few minutes later the first tank in the column smashed through a gate set into the outer wall of the palace, and rumbled through.

"Incoming Armor! ETA 37 seconds!"

"Shit! How soon before these guards are down?"

"Not soon enough. We'll be dealing with these schmucks and those tanks will just role right over us."

"That's it, we need to move. Everybody, into the Palace!"

The aged soldiers then stand up, running full bore towards the doorway and not even bothering to cover their heads.

Nearly there they suffer their first casualties, Jimmson and Quuerls cut down by the surviving guards as the bullets rip through their respective bodies. Crumpling to the ground they manage to roll over, tossing their grenades at the armor just now coming on to the field.

"Leave them, they're dead! Get inside before those tanks obliterate us!"

The remaing 22 put on one last burst of speed, rushing inside and firing blindly over their shoulders at the remaining security guards.

Rein saw the vehicles coming and felt a sinking in his chest. Damn, looks like I'm going to have to get involved sooner than I'd planned.

Moving as quickly as he could, he grabbed six small, oddly shaped objects from inside his coat. He left his place of concealment and dashed for the tanks. When he was about twenty feet away he threw four of them in quick succession, one at each of the tanks. Each one that hit stuck firmly to the side of the tank it hit. Let's see if my aim is as good as it used to be.

Without pausing to view the results, he threw the other two at APCs near the middle of the column. Now comes the fun part, he thought as he ran from the vehicles. When he has gotten about fifty feet from them the objects that had hit their targets (Guanyan SpecOps Anti-Tank Munitions) detonated.

The bombs were powerful enough to take out a standard Klonorian tank or two to three APCs, depending on the tightness of the formation. Those bombs that had missed were dangerous as well, for when they hit the ground they became land mines, waiting for a vehicle to come close enough and then detonating.

Two of the APCs vanish in balls of flame as the mines detonate, and are quickly joined by two tanks. A third tank grinds to a halt as one of its treads is blown apart. Another APC is badly damaged by the mine blasts, and another smashes into its rear in the confusion. The doors on the damaged APCs are hurled open, and thirty troops pile out and run for cover. The other four APCs drive around the chaos, and the fourth and last tank opens up with its light machine gun toward the fleeing agent.

"What was that?!", the governor asked in a voice edged with panic as the blasts echo faintly through the office. The security leader consults his comset, "One of the attackers destroyed several Intervention vehicles. Sir, I recommend we get you out of the palace, they may be here to kill you. If you will follow me, I'll get you to your transport." The governor stood up from his desk and the group left the room quickly and silently.

Rein dived for the closest building as the machine gun opened fire. He swung himself around a wall and sat hunched against it while the bullets whizzed by. Three bullets had made holes in his cloak, and one has grazed his arm.

Ignoring the arm, he threw off the cloak. Underneath was a black suit, the signature armor of Guanyan Black Ops. The suit, which resembled a turtleneck and long pants combined, covered every part of his body except his hands, head, and feet. It soon grew to encompass those parts as well. Even the eyes were covered by a clear version of the same material.

Pulling two mismatched pistols from holsters at his side, he disconnected the holsters from the suit and stood. The suit shimmered, and then he was gone. A careful observer could see a slight distortion in the shape of an extrememly tall man, but other than that he had disappeared. He made his way for the old men, watching the tank carefully to be sure that their gunner had not noticed him.

The Death Dealers pause, getting their bearings and struggling to dig up old memories.

"Okay, team three forward. Everybody else, hang back. We need to be ready for anything. Johanas, how long until you hack the Phase Gate network?"

"It'll be at least another half an hour."

"Shit. Louvre it is. Teams one, two, and four, take this left. Team three, we'll radio once we hack the Gate network. Now, find the Duke!"

"Yes, sir.!"

The group splits apart, the larger group heading down a small hallway and the smaller walking up the main one.

Pausing at one of the many paintings strung along the well, John raises his hands and caresses the frame. Frowning slightly he moves on to the next one. He repeats this 13 times before grinning, keeping his hand stationary on one picture for nearing thirty seconds.

"Bingo!"

The wall section slides apart and the DD's enter the revealed passage, moving up and towards the Palace command center.

Upon reaching the palace entrance, Rein paused. After thinking for a moment, he removed three gas mines and two electrical field mines from his suit and placed them carefully but quickly around the entrance.

If anyone tried to follow the old men in after Rein had entered, they would trigger the gas mines, causing them to emit poisonous gases that could kill a human in a matter of seconds through their pores. When the electrical field mines detected that the gas concentration had lessened enough that a human could pass through alive, they would discharge electricity into the hallway so that anyone entering would be electrocuted.

All in all, that should keep my ass clear for about forty minutes, Rein thought. Satisfied with his work, he followed the smaller team of old men down the corridor.

OOC: I would say he sees the control center, but it's up to Klonor to say whether he is detected.

OOC: It's the larger group that went to the control room, and they got there through a secret passageway. The smaller group (which you have your guy following) was searching for the Duke

The Duke skips down the hallway, a drink in his hand and a song on his lips.

"We're whalers on the moon! We carry a harpoon! But there aint no whales so we scratch our tails and sing a whaling tune!"

Abruptly, he turns around and flings out his arms, an invisible wall of force flinging the four elderly soldiers off their feet and sending them tumbling down the hallway.

"Hold the phone......... Roger, is that you? What the hell are you doing here?"

Roger, painfully coming to his feet, holds out a data card with the Duke's transmission recorded on it

"We got your message, sir. We're here to get you out of the Palace."

"Ah, good man. I trust John and the rest are with you? Probably in the tunnels, if I know John. Well, let' get moving."

He strides forward, not even needing to give commands to his men. After decades of service they know what to do. If they don't they're long since dead.

They walk forward, seemingly unaware of the invisible man shadowing them, but the Duke's arms straighten a bit in his direction.

The remaining tank smashes through the entrance in pursuit of the Death Dealers, triggering the gas mines, but the tank was NBC protected so it didn't matter. The APC following it wasn't however, and the men inside died as the gas leaked through the open gunports. The other APCs came to a halt a safe distance behind the dead one. The tank paused for a moment as it's crew deliberated on their next course of action, then rumbled forward again, the machine gunner watching his screens for a target.

Roger and the other three DD's pause at the distant rumbling sounds, knowing a tank when they hear it.

"Take this next left. You two, hold at the bend. You, come with me."

The four men (Plus Duke) round the corner and pause, all four KSMAR's pointed at the origin of the sound with armor piercing rounds selected (Unlike the newer KSMAR-1000, the older rifles require you to toggle between the various rates of fire and power of the shots).

"Once it rounds the corner open fire. Aim for the eye-ports or weaponry joints, anyplace where the armor is thinner. Duke, we really need your help here."

"Oy, do I have to do everything myself?"

He steps forward and raises his hands, slowly humming to himself with his eyes closed in concentration. Slowly, the air above his head began to darken and swirl, forming a funnel the hovered over the Duke's head. A few more seconds and the funnel began to glow, an energy charge building up inside of it.

Suddenly, the tank came into view.

"Open fire!"

As the four marines unload on the tank the Duke still stands there humming to himself. Abruptly, with no fanfare, he stops humming, opens his eyes, and points at the tank.

"Bang, you're dead."

AP rounds ricocheted off the tanks armor, and suddenly it flipped up on one tread and smashed sideways into the wall, burrowing through it into the next room. It sat there, main barrel twisted into an unusable angle, and the machine gun, its stressed turret tracking motors whining, slowly began to turn back toward the group.

"There, I did all the heavy lifting. Tell me you can at least clean up this mess."

"Yes, sir. Grenadier, front and center! Scrap it!"

"Yes, sir."

The soldier ran forward, his KSMAR arched up with the lower grenade launcher aimed at the once pristine tank cannon.

"This is our last grenade, sir. Go?"

"Blow it to hell."

"Yes, sir!"

With a slight oomph from the compressed air the grenade arcs out of the launcher and lands right under the bow of the tank.

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

Wearomi Ejycene leaned his head out from the tunnel, pearing down the tunnel both ways.

"Clear. Move out."

The eighteen Death Dealer's emerged from the secret passageway, guns up and ready.

"Control room is 3 meters down the hall. Let's move!"

They rush forward, bursting into the room and firing a few rounds into ceiling.

"Everybody down, and keep your hands where we can see them! John, access the Phase gate Network and get the rest of the team here. Now, damnit, now!"

Rein heard the tank bashing through the doorway. Damnit! I forgot the tank! Mistakes like this one were often fatal in his line of business. At least the APCs were taken care of for a while.

Rein watched as the Duke took out the tank and whistled. Daaaaaamn, he thought, eyeing the Duke with new respect. Maybe this wasn't the babysitting job I thought it was.

And maybe, he thought, suddenly fearful, I'd better not act like I'm trying to sneak around in this guy's house. Suddenly completely sure the Duke knew he was there, he removed the hood from his armor, breaking the seals and turning off the invisibility shielding.

"Don't shoot! I'm on your side."

A twitch of the fingers and suddenly there's an iron clamp on the Guanyan agents neck (Picture Darth Vader and the dark force grip)

"You know, I am really getting tired of kicking people out of my house. You've been following me for half an hour, either fess up or get the hell out."

Rein responded calmly, irritated but not overly inconvenienced by the pressure on his throat. (Guanyans don't breathe through their throats.)

"My name is Rein Karhoff, cousin to Abron nul Karhoff of Guanyu and the Black Ops agent assigned to your person by Guanyan Intelligence. If you wouldn't mind ceasing this childishness and putting me down, you can ask any questions you might have."

"I will not cease this childishness, since this is my house and I will act any way I damn well please."

He turns to the soldiers, gesturing them forward.

"Take his weapons, tie his hands, and give me your conn."

Accepting the offered radio type thingy he dialed up the Death Dealers personal channel, modulating it to keep in synch with he frequency rotations, and called up Wearomi.

"Hey diddle diddle. Long time no speaky. How's your progress going? I don't want to keep waiting for these slowpokes to move. The sooner they can zip through the Gates the better. ETA?"

"Give me five minutes, sir. They've changed some of the co-ordinate settings, we need to make sure that the origin points are accurate before trying to activate the Gates. You could Jump here, sir, and give us a hand."

"Negative, there are people here I need to deal with. Klonor out."

Rein watched the Death Dealers come closer. If they touch the weapons, we all die, he thought frantically. I can't let them try it.As the first Death Dealer approached, his combat training took over. Limited by his midair position, he did the only thing he could do. His foot snapped out blindingly fast, heading straight for the man's face.

In mid-kick he realized that the kick would most likely shove the man's nose into his brain, killing him. He didn't want any more trouble than he already had, so he changed the angle of the kick at the last second, aiming for the man's temple to knock him away, possibly unconscious.

"Get back, or we're all dead!" he yelled at the men.

Linser swung up his Assault Rifle, planning to knock the kick out of the way and then to jam the barell up the mans.....well........a certain unpleasant area.

"Oh, let's not even start this."

The Duke stepped forward, lifting his arms and mentally slamming the Guanyan agent against the wall. Another miniscule gesture and the air around the Agents head began to glow.

"Do you want me to do this? You saw the tank. How well do you think you'll fare?"

Rein sighed as he left a four inch or so impression in the wall. Damned humans, always so childish.

"What is it about human psyche that makes you all believe everyone fears you? Would you rather that I had let your man here detonate my suit's plasma explosives and kill everyone in this part of the palace? My government doesn't tolerate capture.

After four hundred years of boredom, death isn't the terror to me that it is to humans, so your threats are not going to be very effective. In any case, I came here to help you. Now, you can either wait here for the enemy to arrive in force, you can kill me, or you can let me down and let me help you. It's entirely up to you."

"No, there are two more options. I knock you out and leave you to be captured and tortured by the Lil miss marines, and they will capture you, or you could just holster your weapons, put your hands behind your back, allow Linser to tie you up, and come along quietly. It's your choice."

The glow around the Agents head began to spread, now covering his entire body. Anything as small as a muscle twitch will result in several sqaure inches of his flesh being seared from his body. The Duke was almost salivating at the thought :twisted:

Obstinate bastard, isn't he? Rein thought wryly.

"Knock me out and the explosives go off. As for the other suggestion, I don't recall being offered it when you told your men here to disarm me. I was trying to save their lives. And yours, for that matter."

"I'm going to put my pistols away now. Don't do anything rash, like melt me into a puddle." Moving slowly to avoid any misunderstandings, Rein brought his pistols to his sides and slipped them into pocket like apertures that appeared in the sides of the suit. "That's the best I can do without triggering the alarms."

"You can tie me up now if you want, but it's really rather pointless. I could get out of any constraints in a matter of seconds, and the threat of imminent annihilation from a certain rather unbalanced personage would be far more effective than bonds anyway."

"If you can get out of these restraints in a matter of seconds, then go right ahead. Of course, the restraints that I'd slap around your spinal cord might be a bit harder to shake. Wearomi, how long?"

"We're done, sir."

"Then what the hell are you waiting for? Get these people to the control center, now."

"Yes, sir."

A flash of light and a brief disorientation later all 6 men find themselves in the Vicegral Palace control room.

"So, now what?"

"Close the gunports!"
Armored hatches on the sides of the APCs behind the unfortunate dead one snapped shut, forming airtight seals. The driver of the first one slammed his foot down on the accelerator, and it smashed into the back of the dead APC. Metal whined as the APC was pushed through the door, and then they were through. The convoy rolled down the huge hallways of the palace, and troops spilled from their doors, weapons ready. With no enemy in site, the troops split into squads, and began methodically searching the halls and passages.
---
"After you sir."
"Thank you Major."
Governor Perry stepped onto the waiting military transport, his escort filing in behind him and taking their seats. The transport lifted silently on its antigrav systems, and rocketed away from the palace.

"Sir, we have enemy armor and infantry inside the Palace! Estimate less than ten minutes before the reach the control center."

"No worries."

He walks towards the wall, inputing a complicated set of numbers and commands.

"Attention GDD Galatea, this is the Duke. Are you in place yet?"

"Give us 11 seconds, sir."

Eleven seconds later.............................

"We're in position, sir."

"Most excellent. Wearomi, set the Phase Gate target for Gate 009."

"009, sir? Is there actually a gate that old still in existence?"

"You bet there is. Target and activate the floor gate."

"Yes, sir."

A flash of light, and suddenly the 22 Death Dealers, the Guanyan Agent, and the Duke find themselves aboard the GDD Galatea, Orion class Destroyer and the Duke's personal flagship.

"So, let's go blow something up. Target the Vicegral Palace, carve a hole boys."

"Yes, sir."

The Galatea rotates in space, pointing down at the planets surface and lancing out with five fingers of death, slicing a circle around the Vicegral Palace and effectively blocking all ways in and out (except by air)

"Wearomi, you disable the Palace gates before we left, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Open a CommChan."

"Open, sir."

"Attention staff of the Vicegral Palace, this is the Grand DUke Solomon Klonor. You have been sealed within the Palace. You have no way out. Surrender to me, and you shall live. Resist, and the Manifest will no longer be the only veseel to have blown up part of the Palace. Do I make myself clear?"

Orbital defenses swiftly came online and targeted the Galatea. Several LM naval starships changed course to bring the Duke's ship into weapons range. A single transmission was sent, "Enemy vessel, you are instructed to power down your weapons and prepare to be boarded. This is your only warning. If you take any further aggressive action you will be engaged and destroyed."
---
On the ground, several smaller transports arced away from the palace, carrying it's command staff to safety.

"Attention staff of the Vicegral Palace, this is the Grand DUke Solomon Klonor. You have been sealed within the Palace. You have no way out. Surrender to me, and you shall live. Resist, and the Manifest will no longer be the only veseel to have blown up part of the Palace. Do I make myself clear?"

On the ground, several smaller transports arced away from the palace, carrying it's command staff to safety.

I don't think they can get out Vernii...

"These people keep trying to use my own stuff against me. When will they learn? Captain, how many Positron emitters to we have aboard?"

"Three, sir. Why?"

"Bring me one with a power amplifier."

A Positron emitter and power ampliefier is brought to the bridge instantly, shocking everybody since they are stored about a km to the rear and should take quite awhile to get there.

"Thank you. Captain, patch this into the Sub-Space transmitter and transmit the code '01001000011000010110110001110100'." (It means 'Halt')

"It is patched in, sir."

"Excellent. Then transmit before we get blwon to hell!"

The positronic transmission is sent out, intercepted by all the A.I.'s within the system. For a brief second, before external commands can be given, all A.I.'s obey as if it had been their own thought (Which they would interpret it as. The A.I.'s use Positronic brains, positronic signals are their equivelant of whatever we use to send messages from our brain to the various limbs. So, any intercepted positronic signals would be interpreted by their 'limbs' as being sent by their own brain). This goes for the traffic control equipment, the food preperation quipment, the music transmission equipment......... and for the A.I. controllers aboard the Harbinger Cannons.

"We've got a bit of time here, Captain. Blow a hole in the planet then get us the hell out of here!"

"Yes, sir! Weaponry, open fire! As soon as the bombardment is over, get us into Sub-Space. Move!"

"Attention staff of the Vicegral Palace, this is the Grand DUke Solomon Klonor. You have been sealed within the Palace. You have no way out. Surrender to me, and you shall live. Resist, and the Manifest will no longer be the only veseel to have blown up part of the Palace. Do I make myself clear?"

On the ground, several smaller transports arced away from the palace, carrying it's command staff to safety.

I don't think they can get out Vernii...

The Galatea rotates in space, pointing down at the planets surface and lancing out with five fingers of death, slicing a circle around the Vicegral Palace and effectively blocking all ways in and out (except by air)

Well you thought wrong then. And Klonor, what part of the planet did you just fire on?

Probably be shooting either at the Palace or at the ships flying away (and how would the fleeing people be able to get from their posts to their escape craft in the few seconds they were alloted that the Duke would wait before firing? Seriously, the Palace is huge and they all suddenly appear at the launch pads?)

You're assuming they already weren't on their way. I already evacuated the governor, is it suddenly absurb that high level command staff weren't on their way as well?

So, it's just the highest command level, and you're leaving the thousands of other people there to die? Okay. If so, then the ship is shooting at the Palace.

The central portion of the Viceregal Palace explodes as the ship's beams hammer through it. Girders melt and collapse, and entire wings crumble to the ground. Huge clouds of dust rise from the ruins, spreading through the surrounding city as the crowds flee in panic. Flames shoot into the air as portions of the wreckage burn, and thousands perish in an instant.

The orbital defenses targetting the Galatea open fire as secondary command centers begin sorting through the confusion. Their fire is scattered though, but as seconds tick by it begins to grow in intensity, hungry to swat the Duke's ship from orbit.

"Palace destroyed, sir, but we have shots incoming! ETA is 6 seconds!"

"Divert weapons energy to the shields, and then get us th hell out of there!"

"Where to, sir?"

"A small hop to the Jump-Node, then set course for Sol!"

"Sol, sir?"

"You heard me! Now move before we get ripped to shreds!"

With that the GDD Galatea, Flagship of the Grand Duke and dormant for decades, opens its first Inter-System Sub-Space Node in years and embarks towards the homeworld of humanity.

The Sol-Delta Serpentis Jump-Node splits in two, the GDD Galatea shooting out of Sub-Space and into the Home of Man.

"Okay, is the Ganymede still here?"

"The Ganymede, sir? ....... I........ I think so. I didn't even think of that."

"That's why I'm in charge and you're the guy who cleans my............. moving on. Contact them and bring us in, tell them we need to repair and refuel."

"Yes, sir."

Several hours later........

"We expect to be finished within the next half hour, sir."

"So soon?"

"We sustained only minor damage before exiting Deneb, it was mainly superficial. No major problems."

"Ah, excellent news. Once repairs are finished set course for the Node. Take us back to Deneb."

"Yes, sir."

"Holy crap! Look at the size of them!"
The uniformed officer standing in front of the assembled crew couldn't help but smile.
"Yeah, pretty impressive isn't it kid? Those can hurl a 1,600 pound shell 22,000 yards." He pointed to one of the gleaming gun turrets. He cleared his throat. "Attention!"

The crew, eighty-seven men in all, snapped to attention. The officer strolled down the line, inspecting them. He came to a halt and stood perfectly straight. "I am Captain Russell, your new commanding officer. The thing you see behind me is the newest addition to our arsenal. All of you are experienced tank crewmen, but this is something new, so we will be doing extensive training. I trust you will not disappoint me. Today we will start with maneuvering drills. Board ship!"

Crewmen filed past him into the massive vehicle's side hatches.

Location: Sub-Space Vortex en route to Deneb

"Sir, the Node is bound to be guarded. We slipped out last time because the guards were just coming on-line, but they'll be ready this time. Even if we get past the guards, they'll know we're here."

"No problem. Bring the G/TD on-line."

"Sir? We haven't used that in nearly a century."

"Hey, Klonor technology is built to last. Bring it on-line and ready it. Before we exit, if it's at all possible."

"Yes, sir. The techs are working on it now."

However long that would take............

"The G/TD is on-line, sir."

"Excellent, and with 27 seconds to spare. Congratulations! Set it on an auto-timer. Ready it for when we leave Sub-Space."

"Destination?"

"Who cares? Just away from the Node."

"Yes, sir."

The instant the portal opened, opening a tunnel to the n-dimensional realm known as Sub-Space, the Galatea activated its Gravity/Time Distorter and flashed away at 8,760 times the speed of light. (I think that's how fast 1 ly an hour is)

"Home again. Again."

Ten old men line up in a row. Dressed in the hight of Denebian fashsion (not a single buttoned button among them) and equipped with the usual old people attachments (walking canes and the "Back in my day........" books on tape series) they could easily blend in among any crowd. That is, if they stopped standing perfectly straight, stopped saluting each other, and if their canes didn't have sniper scopes along the top (in case you missed it, the cane's are disguised guns).

"Men, you know your orders. Get in, make contact, and get out. We need to find out what's going on before we commit to anything."

"Yes, sir."

"Well then. Get going."

Walking to the Phase-Gate controls the commander sets it for the communal gate in the midst of Septal (A city on K-Deneb) and turns back to the men.

"Good luck."

They salute, turn, and march across the several million miles to the middle of the sprawling metropolis.

"Well, let's find that resistance."

Rein sat in his cell, deep in thought. It wouldn't be hard to escape the cell, but then what? Realizing that running around in the corridors was not a good idea if half of the crew was as crazy as the Duke, he decided on a safer action.

Easily slipping out of the bonds that held him, he made a few motions with his forefinger and thumb, then said clearly "Activate tracking on unit 00341. Tau Ceti fleet advisement. Possible threat. Immediate assistance. 00341 out."

That should do it. Let's see what happens to my negotiating position when the 7th GANS fleet shows up. Now I just have to wait.

"So, who knows where the resistance is located?"

The men turn to each other and shrug, nobody quite sure what to say.

"Didn't anybody think to check up on this before we left?"

More shrugs and frowns

"Oooooooookay........ want to just kill some random security guard?"

The frowns turn upside down (referring to a smile)

"Okay then. Jim? Want to go ahead on this?"

"Yes, sir."

Sitting down he raises his cane (that'd be the disguised gun) and brings it to his shoulder, sighting in on the guard walking down the street towards the feelitheater.

"It's almost to easy."

Bang!

"So, what do you guys want to do now?"

"I dunno. Want to catch a movie?"

"Sure. What's playing?"

"The usual garbage. There's also a showing of some ancient thing. Star something or other."

"Is it any good?"

"I dunno. Never seen it, but I've heard good things."

"Okay. Here's the plan. We go see a movie, then embark on a homicidal rampage to attract the resistance."

"Works for me."

Several hours later.............

"Whoa......... Darth Vader was Luke's father. I did not see that something."

"Yeah. One hell of a twist. So, rampage time?"

"Yeah. Cut loose!"

The men start shooting and..............

Several people fall to the ground as they are shot dead by the maniacs. The crowded street manages to clear itself in a few moments as screaming citizens run for cover from the gunfire. A police car hurtles around the corner, sirens blaring. It comes to an abrupt stop and a uniformed officer climbs out, using the door as cover. He doesn't bother to demand their surrender, instead he squeezes off six shots from his sidearm.

The bullets impact the body armor of one of the soldiers, sinking into the plasto-textile fabric before being halted a good 1/2 inch from the flesh. Of course, even without actually hitting the skin those things still hurt like hell.

"Jesus Christ, was that really necessary? Seriously, that was just rude!"

"I know! People have no manners these days. Men, teach them some respect for their elders."

"Yes, sir!"

Nine assault rifles level at the car, each firing at a rate of 800 rounds of armor piercing bullets a minute. They sweep with their guns, aiming to turn the car into Jimathonian cheese (their equivelant of swiss).

Twenty seconds later they stop, waiting for the smoke to clear so they can survey the damage.

The police car is of course, swiss cheesed. The car itself is totaled, with "speed" holes riddling it, and what's left of the police officer is splattered over the side of it. The sound of sirens fills the air as three more cars approach, followed by a SWAT team van.

"Well, I think we finally got their attention."

"It seems so, sir."

"Units incoming?"

"Estimated 10 to 20, sir."

"They'll probably be better armed than this poor sap. Okay boys, take cover."

The men turn and run back inside the movie theatre, taking cover behind the tickets booths and concession stands.

"Toss a grenade out there, then prepare for hostile action."

"Yes, sir."

One of the men reaches into his pocket, tossing a grenade out the door after pulling the pin.

The ticket booth and concession people dive to the ground, hands over their heads, thinking they were being taken hostage. A pedestrian screams in agony as he's caught in the grenade's blast. The cars and the van come to a stop in front of the theater, and SWAT officers jumped out. Two of them covered the advance of the other ten with automatic gunfire, with the other three police providing supporting fire with their sidearms. The doors are blown open with gunfire, and a flashbang whizzes into the lobby.

"FB incoming! Shields!"

The men wave their hands over their eyes, activating their iris's and sealing their eyes (artificial iris's in their eyelids, picture the iris from Stargate: SG1). They then clamp their hands over their ears, hoping to drown out some of the noise.

Bang!

"Shields up! Open fire!"

The men, those out of the way of the incoming fire from the doorway (figure three people), raise up to their kneews and shoulder their weapons. Pasuing, they concentrate on the incoming fire and where it is originating from. They then pivot and shoot, aiming at the walls and the police behind them.

The two regular cops go down, one dead and the other wounded. The SWAT team continues pouring in fire.
"Cover me!"
One of the squad stops firing for a moment to hurl a grenade into the lobby as two others move away from the van, going down the alley next to the theatre to find a side entrance.

"Grenade! Move!"

The men scatter and hide, surprisingly nimble for men of their age. Ducking behind counters and lunging around corners to avoid to explosion. Unfortunately, even young and spry men can't run faster than an explosion (Well, they can outrun the slow explosions. It's just the fast ones that pose a problem).

The detonation throws shrapnel throughout the room, filling the air with deadly bits of metal. The Death Dealers, at least those who are still out in the open, are shredded to itty bitty pieces. The living seven men try to reform, but the continued fire from the outside still poses a problem.

"Men, get outside! Go through the side entrance! Now!"

They storm towards the rear, barging outside and unloading on the two men they see moving down the alley.

The two SWAT officers in the alley die in a hail of bullets as they are taken by surprise. Their blood splatters the walls next to them, and they drop to the ground lifeless. Inside the movie theater, SWAT team members begin to move into the lobby.

"Down the alley! Move!"

The men start to run, seeking to put as much distance between them and the S.W.A.T. team members as they can.

Suddenly, the floor beneath them collapses. Well, it doesn't really collapse as much as change into a giant fire breathing dragon. No, wait, it just collapses.

The Death Dealers find themselves in a small room, the ceiling once again in perfect condition (minus the fire breathing dragon).

"Just who the hell are you and what are you doing on Deneb?"

The voice comes from the shadows in one of the most commonly used horror things

"We are the Death Dealers, personal guard to the Grand Duke Solomon Klonor. Just who the hell are you?"

"I am Colonel Quento, commander of the Denebian Resistance and Viceroy of Deneb (The last is a mere formality, he would have been the Viceroy if Lil miss hadn't conquered Deneb, but they did so he isn't. It'd be like the Vice President saying he's President after the President is asassinated but the country is conquered before he can officially take office). You say you're the Death Dealers? Then where the hell have you been for the past decade?"

"Biding our time. Our duty is to protect the Duke, not you. You should know that."

"I do, except for the fact that the Duke is dead. Or do you not watch the news? He's been dead for decades. I never took the DD's for a bunch of purblind idiots."

"That's cause we're not, moron. The Duke is back, and he's here to take back what's his. Help him, or stand in his way, it doesn't really matter. It'll happen anyway. But with you it will work that much more quickly."

"The Duke is back, you say? Really? Well then, let's give him a warm welcome. Men, I think we just got the bugle (referring to pre-radio days where bugles were used to signal military action). Let's move."

The signals are sent out and the Resistance wakens, coming out of hiding to finally give the Lil missians one for.

Three thousand armed militants, the main military arm of the Resistance, begin to stir. After months of routine operations, the occasional convoy raid for supplies, and random shooting, they were finally going to move forward.

"Targets?"

"Four seperate locations. Two infantry bases, a mechanical repair depot, and a crewing station."

"Expected defenses?"

"Minimal. They're not expecting anything."

"Excellent. Give the order."

"Yes, sir."

The orders are sent, and the army moves towards their targets. Breaking off into even groups for their individual assaults they move quite stealthily for such a massive group, using sewer systems and back allies to avoid detection. When they are detected (and let's face it, there's no way in hell they couldn't be) a few shots quickly solves the problems. A few mere hours later and they arrive at theit targets, the seperate groups waiting for the final order.

"When, sir?"

"Once we get the signal."

"What is the signal?"

"We'll know it when we see it."

"You have no idea what the hell the signal is, do you?"

"Well................ no."

"Jesus Christ, why the hell are you in charge?"

"Cause I slept with the Commander."

"Oh, right. How was it?"

"Surprisingly not to bad."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I especially loved it when......."

At that moment (we can't let this go on for to long) the sky seems to sprout a second sun. No, three new suns.

"Okay, I'm going to take a wild guess and assume that's the signal. Attack!"

The seperate divisions move forward, ready to obliterate their targets

In space............................................................................................... (several seconds earlier)

The crew of the DRT Argos crept aboard the Dreadnought, the hatches forced open and the guards silenced.

They slowly make their way to the engine rooms, prepping explosives along the way and prepared to take out anybody standing in their way.

"How much on the timer?"

"Seven seconds. It should give us time to get to the Phase Gates."

"Uh, there are no Phase Gates on a Dreadnought."

"Shit. Backup plan?"

"None."

"Crap."

"Abort?"

"Hell yes!"

The men turn, rushing back to their ship. Unfortunately, the bodies of one of the Dreadnoughts crew members is in the way. Even more unfortunately, the man carrying the explosives trips over him. Ever more unfortunately, he trips the explosives as he falls.

"Well, isn't that just freaking dandy. I hate this job."

boom

A rescue ship quickly approached the wreckage of DRT Argos. "Command, this is SR-59, no signs of survivors."
---
The sentries outside the four bases were quickly killed and overrun, although a few managed to fire off a few shots before being killed.

Mortars began slamming into the pavement on the bases as sirens began to wail, and at the repair depot, one of the warehouses took a hit and partially collapsed.

At the infantry bases, soldiers began quickly grabbing their weapons and rushing to meet the enemy. At the depot and crewing station, techs and officers ran for cover as a few guards opened fire.

OOC: The Argos was the transport ship that the resistance members were using, I think it'd be more likely for you to look at the Dreadnought that they blew up.

IC:

Division Three Command Transmission (The dudes attacking the repair depot):

Attack partialy successful. Damage to several buildings. Attack continuing.

"RPG's to the front! Riflemen to to sides! Target that collapsing building and hammer it hard, riflemen keep them clear!"

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

At the two infantry bases the groups halt their attacks, aware of the emering military forces.

"Okay folks, help them regain their bearings!"

Twenty brown packages are thrown to the ground, all facing the emerging troops.

"Press the buttons!"

The buttons are pressed!

The packages explode, flinging out thousands upon thousands of small metal ball bearings at the infantry forces at Mach+ speeds.

The dry dirt turned red and slick with blood as almost a hundred men were cut down by the ball bearings ripping through their bodies. Wounded writhed on the ground screaming next to silent corpses, and the survivors retreated back into the buildings. Windows were broken out and shots began to be fired back into the rebels.

"Mortars to the front! Bring the roofs down!" (radio transmission, the two seperate attacking forces attacking the two seperate infanty bases both receive this same message)

The mortor groups shuffle their way to the front, setting up the equipment as the men around them drop from the incoming fire.

"Fire!"

"Incoming arties!"
The mortar rounds whistle through the air before crashing into the bases. At the first base, the first round smashes into the pavement, the rest find their targets and smash through the roofs of various buildings.
At the second base, one building collapses under the fire, another catches on fire. Soldiers run out of the collapsed building, some running away, others charge the rebels.

"Mow 'em down, men!"

The soldiers rise to their feet, raising their KSMAR's and sighting in on the incoming soldiers.

"Empty the magazines!"

Over 1,000 assault rifles open up, each spitting out nearly 1,000 rounds per minute of armor piercing ammunition. The soldiers all pause for a second, an image of a farmer reaping his harvest popping into their minds. Then the onslaught resumes.

The soldiers die as their charge collapses in the face of the sheer amounts of return fire. Both bases were suddenly quiet, pierced only by the sobs and screams of the wounded. Any survivors capable of running away did so.

Thousands of feet up, three attack gunships each began to descend toward the bases, their turbines shrieking as they dived.

"Incoming air! Shift targets!"

The men shift their aim upwards, switching to Gun-Cotton rounds before firing at the gunships.

(Gun cotton rounds are explosive bullets, they impact and blow up. Each bullet has the explosive force equal to four pounds of gunpowder. Not much compared to people who have nuclear bullets, but still a lot more dmaging than simple metal)

Bullets pinged off the armor of the gunships, making small dents and scars but otherwise inflicting no serious damage. The turbine on one gunship, however, was wrecked from the fire as several bullets damaged it's internal components. The pilot of the gunship pulled up to avoid further damage. The other pilots squeezed down on their triggers, and the two heavy machine guns on the underside of each gunship opened fire, chewing into the rebels on the ground. They completed their dive and pulled up to loop around and make another pass.

The rebels are ripped to shreds, hundreds falling to the ground as bullets fly through their flesh. The screams are heard for miles around, and will definitely haunt the dreams of the survivors for years to come.

"Cover! Everyone down!"

The men drop the ground, arms over their heads as the rocketeers shoulder their weapons and release a volley of their own.

Two of the rockets slam into a gunship, breaking it apart and scattering it's debris over several kilometers. The third deploys it's flares in time to avoid another rocket, but loses a turbine to a near miss. The surviving gunship flies off.

Over the other base, a gunship also takes a hit and crashes. The other two complete their loops and dive back down, guns blazing.

"We're being sliced to pieces here! Either get support over our position, or start building a new army!"

As the old saying goes, ask and thou shalt receive. With a scream of wind a pair of Valkyrie Interceptors streak into battle unleashing a volley of Interceptors at the attacking gunships.

The last LM gunships crashed to the ground in fireballs, and the bases were littered with wounded and dying soldiers.

Several miles away at another base, an Intervention armoured squad was dispatched, it would take about fifteen to twenty minutes to arrive.

"We have incoming armor! What's the base status?"

"Sir, they're pretty much dead. All major resistance has been dealt with. We're in control."

"Excellent! Men, inside the bases! Objective is in site!"

The men cheer and run, stampeding the bases and rushing inside.

"To the Gates!"

More stampeding and the men (at the two seperate bases) rush to the Gate Control rooms.

"Set the coordinates and let's get going!"

The buttons are pressed and the men run through the Gates, running out the other side on the Lil miss homeworld.

The Central Gate Chamber in Lil Miss was a cavernous steel and concrete chamber. Dozens, if not possibly a hundred gateways lined it's walls. The room was filled at any given time with several teams of technicians, and dozens of guards. Those who were unfortunate enough to be near the gates the rebels came through were quickly gunned down as the Klonorians stamped through the gates. Technicians were soon fleeing from the chamber as the guards brought up their weapons and walked automatic fire through the ranks of the rebels. Klaxons sounded as the facility began to mobilize to meet the threat inside it.

Hundreds fall. This is unavoidable. The men knew the risks, and they accepted them. The Duke might have been a telepathic drunk, but he did a damn fine job running the nation, and each of these men had family who they needed to support. They weighed the risk, and the risk found wanting.

"Spread out! Take the room! Seal the doors and set up the Crickets!"

The group expands, hundreds of soldiers advancing upon each Lil missian guard. Many fell, but the rest walked on.

The guards fought back valiantly, emptying their clips into the rebels, then throwing their automatics down and pulling out their sidearms, then emptying those if they were still alive by then. Most weren't, but a few were still alive enough to charge with their combat knives, knowing their families would be compensated, and trying to delay the rebels to give the base the time to fully mobilize.

"Finish them off and seal the room! How long until the crickets are up?

"Half a minute, sir."

"Excellent. Get them up, then tell the men to sit back. It's a waiting game now."

OOC: The 'crickets' are defensive weaponry, they are placed in front of doors and hallways and they automatically target and fire at any moving object. They are each armed with two auto-cannon machine guns, an MBC (Mini Beam Cannon), single grenade launcher, and a hydraulic leg which is capable of launching it into the air for quick motion and evasion (hence the name cricket)

A platoon of twenty men each marched to the gates of the Central Gate Chamber. They lined up outside the doors and readied their grenades. Behind them more platoons waited; an entire regiment had been mobilized to crush the rebels inside the base. The doors opened, and the grenades soared through the air into the cavernous chamber. The first wave of men in each platoon died almost immediately from Cricket fire, and the survivors quickly scrambled for cover. Behind them, more troops were pouring in behind them through the gates to swamp the defenses with sheer number of men.

Rein frowned unconsciously as he considered the situation. He had expected to be interrogated, or at least interviewed, but so far nothing of the type had happened. Something big was happening groundside, his instincts told him that much. It was time for Rein to stop sitting around feeling sorry for himself. With just the slightest twinge of his mouth that even the most observant watcher could not have identified as a grin, Rein brought his wrist comm to his mouth. “Dwarf One, go. Dwarf two, stand by for intercept.” Then he made himself comfortable and waited for his wrist comm to emit the unmistakable shriek that invariably accompanies a Guanyan pressure jump.

Rein awoke forty minutes later to a shrill noise. Ah, the cavalry has arrived.

A Battlehammer class Dwarf Cruiser quite literally screamed into the system. The newest addition to the Guanyan Fleet, the 2.4 kilometer ship bristled with weaponry from bow to stern. What truly made the ship unique, however, were the previously absent ground forces in the form of six Bionic Infantry regiments. The day was about to get much worse for the Lil Missians.

A transmission was broadcast to the Duke’s ship:

“This is Commander Olvaunt aboard the GANS Hyperion. I am under instructions to aid the rightful Duke of Klonor. I also have a message directly from the Administrator-General.” Olvaunt cleared his throat. “The message is as follows: ‘Dammit, Klonor, just once could you STAY dead and make my life a little easier?’”

“That being said, my ship is entirely at your command. That includes 432 bionic infantry units in bioengineered BCSes (bionic combat suits).”

"This is it boys! Omega protocol! Go!"

The soldiers, being cut to ribbons on all sides, drop their guns, clutch their jackets, rip off said jackets, and then rip off the straps along the sides of their vests. Instantly, a high pitched shrieking sounds (and I mean really freaking high pitched!) emits from all their bodies, doubling them all over in pain as their ear drums either implode or explode from the noise (I don't know which way it would work with this stuff).

"Make the move!"

The last, unheard by any of the soldiers but still understood, was directed at the three men still at the Phase Gate controls. With their ears bleeding they rapidly type commands into the Phase Gate control computers.

"Okay, we have the co-ordinates! We're all set!"

"Good! Throw the bomb and say your prayers!"

A large package is hurled through the air, spiraling through the Gate towards the set co-ordinates. The destination: The Lil miss primary infantry stationing area.

"See you in Hell!"

The men crank up the volume on the noise, then collapse.

(the point of this whole thing was to deliver a nuclear warhead to the Lil miss planet for two reasons: to make the people question the point of risking their own lives to fight a war over a planet they have no need for, and to take out some of the Lil miss infantry, since infantry numbers is the main advantage that Lil has over me)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Commander Olvaunt, I suppose you could tag along, but try not to get in the way."

The Galatea, motionless up to this point, began to rotate in space. Oriented inwards, it began to move forward. After a few brief moments of acceleration the space around it began to ripple, a Sub-Space Node forming in front of the Orion. Destination: The Denebian Shipyards

"Take us out firing! Set the guns on auto-target, feed in the co-ordinates for the Corvette resupply areas and the Destroyer refit sections. Let's cripple their fleet right now."

The soldiers clustered around the gate to the primary gate chamber gaped as the package rolled down the ramp. "Bomb!" They dove for cover behind various stations and computer terminals. It didn't help of course. With a flash, the base disappeared in a nuclear fireball, and three brigades of troops perished with it.
---
The troops inside the gate chamber fell to the ground, clutching their ears and screaming in pain.

A few managed to stay upright for just long enough to fire a few shots, then collapsed as well.
---
Mines stationed around the shipyard activated their drives, streaking toward the enemy ships like a cloud of steel.

Defending starships maneuvered onto interception courses, desperate to protect their ward.
---
New Rome, Lil Miss, Deneb system
The Imperial President and his advisors sat in their places around the conference table in the Grand Palace. The chamber they were in was ornate, with statues and fountains all around the table, and a dome arching up above them. The table was made to the same opulent scale; black marble encrusted with powdered gems and gold.

Rage emanated from the Imperial President like radiation from a busted up Russian reactor. His advisors wanted to shrink away from the ornate table. "They did what?!"

"Um...a group of rebels attacked and destroyed two minor infantry bases on Deneb....and they then used the gates to transport onto our world, and smuggled a nuke into one of our major bases here."

The President rubbed his forehead, "Casualty estimate?"

"About 30,000 sir."

"That's it. Declare martial law throughout Deneb. I want this rebellion crushed and I want it crushed now!"

"Fire! Now Damnit!"

The five Beam Cannons glow briefly, their uncontainable destructive power contained for a few brief nanoseconds before it breaks free. Like five fingers of a colossal hand they sweep through space, smacking the Corvette resupply areas like Rick James on Charlie Murphy.

The Laser Turrets, less powerful but more numerous, begin to pummel the Destroyer refit sections with thousands of bee stings.

"Okay, bring the Flak Cannons on-line. Shred those incoming mines! Once the space around the docking bay doors is clear open the bays and get some Pegasus's into the Black and have them work on those defensive ships. Show these Lil miss bastards what Klonor technology can do when used properly."

OOC: Pegasus's are stealth fighters. Not visually invisible, they are invisible to Klonor detection systems (except for a very faint and fuzzy reading, similar to what a large gas could would reveal)

Olvaunt smiled. "Well boys, I guess we spacers are going to get our share of the fighting after all. Weapons, fire on those shipyards. Full energy barrage, save the missiles for incoming enemy craft."

Weapons all over the ship suddenly came alive, sending huge sheets of destructive energy raining down on the yards. Tri-particle Cannon bursts battered the repair docks, Phased Assault Cannons sliced at the metal of the exterior, and Hellfire Cannons melted gaping holes in the refueling section. The Guanyan crew paid no attention to the mines. Their PDW would take care of them.

The shipyard's delicate girders and supports were rent by the incoming fire, and a destroyer exploded in it's dock as hits penetrated through opened up hull sections. Damaged ships floated away from their docks as their slipways were torn apart around them. Fighters spilled from the hangar bays of the shipyard like bees, and more defending starships came into range, opening fire with their beam cannons and lasers.

"Sir, incoming corvettes! I read upwards of 10 Dreadnoughts inbound from numerous vectors!"

"No biggie. Are the bays clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Get the Pegasus's out in Space and have them deal with the incoming fighters. Let's see how well they do when they can't see who they're fighting."

"Yes, sir. What about the Dreadnoughts?"

"Who the hell cares about them? They're armed with two PBC's apiece. That makes, at the most, 20 Particle Beam Cannons. Our EAA's can handle that easily."

"Yes, sir."

Space lit up with light as the dreadnoughts' PBCs spat fire at the two enemy starships. Missiles swept out from some of the fighters as they entered range, and others began strafing runs.

Over Deneb, the Orion class destroyer Thebes broke orbit. It powered up it's weapons as another dreadnought squadron assumed formation around it. Together they accelerated towards the shipyard.

"Sir, we're getting a long distance power reading. Levels are registering as MSII. Sensor profile gives an 83% probability of an Orion."

"Oy, that doesn't bode well. You told me they didn't have any Destroyers!"

"We thought they didn't! How could they? If you take their entire space force you could only crew a single Orion, and we've seen a hell of a lot of Dreadnoughts. Where they hell could they find the men to run it?"

"Didn't it ever occur to you that they'd hire Klonor Space Corps members?"

"Uh.............no."

"Dumbass."

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, throw another volley at the shipyards then move us away. Try to keep it between us and whatever they're throwing at us."

"I'm reading a squadron of Dreadnoughts coming in with the Orion, they'll catch us in no time."

"Why the hell didn't you say that before? Okay, new plan. Move us off, but try to keep that Guanyan ship between us and them. Let the Dreadnoughts blow the hell out of that piece of crap."

"Yes, sir. Course set."

The massive Orion began to move away, rotating in space to present the smallest profile to the attacking forces.

Olvaunt glanced at the tactical readout. "Clever SOB, isn't he? All right, we'll give him a hand. Retreat from the area, pace the Duke's ship and keep us between it and the oncoming Orion. Shift fire from the yards to the incoming ships, hit the destroyers with missiles and the Orion with the rest. I've seen the Intel reports on the Orions, gentleman, and I want that Captain's attention fully focused on incoming fire. We don't want those beams focused on us too long, even if it's a rather old model.."

The Guanyan ship rotated in space, following the Duke's vessel away from the shipyards. As they retreated, all the weapons capable of depressing enough to fire on the incoming ships fired repeatedly, peppering the destroyers with the starburst blasts of Shatterstar-II missiles and the Orion with waves of energy weapon fire.

OOC: Okay, this super godmoddy post has been agreed upon by all participants! I do this merely because the forums shall go bye-bye in a few hours and we need to get this RP over with

IC:

"Okay, I am sick of this! Captain!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Get some lowly flunkie down to the hold, have him take an MSIII Engine (ignore the fact that an Orion would no way in hell have an MSIII) and put the containment field to deactivate in 3 hours. Then bring it to a Phase Gate."

"Done, sir."

"Good, open a channel to Lil miss high command (or whatever they have)"

"Done, sir."

"Hello Lil miss dudes! Duke Klonor here, with a little surpirse for you! Either you cease all hostilities against my forces and secede all claims to my territory, or I drop a supernova on your doorstep. An MSIII with no cotainment field. Think about it."

Shards of pottery littered the floor, the remains of an antique vase that had met the wall when the Imperial President had thrown it. The wall had obviously won.

"Damnit! I will not withdraw our troops from Deneb, they have to be bluffing!"

"But Sir, what if it isn't? The Duke's forces have already shown a willingness to nuke planetary targets, and considering his alchoholism, he might be in the mind set to try."

"But they can't possibly have a Ministar III! An Orion simply can't handle that amount of energy."

"Well, it is the Duke's ship, suppose they found a way to make it work? We have been buying our own technology from them for some time now, what if they are more advanced then we thought?"

"Could that work?"

Everyone at the table shrugged, there wasn't a single engineer among them.

"So, if they aren't bluffing, then we're all facing a supernova appearing on our world. Recommendations?"

A few minutes later, it was decided, and a message was sent to the Duke's ship from the President.

"I will withdraw my troops from Deneb, but only if we have a guarantee that you will not use the Ministar upon Lil Miss. And I do mean a guarantee, an "I promise not to." is not good enough."

"I make no such guarantee."

"Well then we aren't withdrawing! And before you decide to use your MiniStar, we can just as easily nuke every major population center on Deneb. You'll be the Duke of a nuclear wasteland."

"So? Do you think I care? No matter what you do you wont kill everybody, and I'll still have people to rule. How about a little demonstration of my power? Captain, blow up the moon!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Their moon, dumbass."

"Oh........ right."

boom

"Now, are you ready to back off?"

The President's face paled as Lil Miss's moon vanished. The explosion would undoubtably screw up the planet's tides and wreak other ecological havoc, like radiation poisoning and such.

"Very well, point taken. We will withdraw from your world."

"w00t! Nice doing business with you!"

Turning back to the captain

"Man, it is good to be back on the throne."

End of thread!

OOC: Well, that RP really sucked...........

That's what happens when you put a time limit on things. They end up getting rushed.

Hey, I started this thread with a hell of a lot of time to spare. Not my fault so much stuff came up which made this all go sour

Well, yeah. That and Lil Miss hasn't done much IC work with his nation, it's hard to RP when you have virtually no info about the nation you're RPing.

Hey, which of us was the go-between here? I do not enjoy being a mailman