NationStates Jolt Archive

Kapitan zur Sternen Geoffrey Tolwyn steps out onto the bridge of the HMS Protector, a battleship in His Majesty’s Star Armada. He looks into the swirling vortex of hyperspace, taking comfort in the maddening patterns of life in the ethereal maelstrom beyond normal space.
“Kapitan on the bridge!” says Fregattenkapitan Mortimer Jäger, his second. Tolwyn nods to Jäger, as he honors the time-honed tradition of alerting the bridge crew to their commander’s presence. Tolwyn has no doubt that Jäger already alerted the bridge crew of his impending arrival the moment he left his quarters, another part of the tradition to put the best face on for the master of on of His Majesty’s warships.
Tolwyn walks to the kapitan’s station, where Jäger is standing to allow him to take his accustomed spot. Once seated, Tolwyn activates several of the tactical displays, and then looks up at Jager.
“Tell me, Mortimer, how long before we cross the alpha wall and translate into the Morning Star system?”
“Eleven minutes, forty-seven seconds, sir,” Jäger stands, hands clasped at his back beside Tolwyn.
“Very good, very good indeed,” Tolwyn allows his eyes to drift over some of the data behind him, largely checking on the readiness of the ships Precentor-class fighters and the missile pod and energy batteries.
“Mr. Skorzeny?” Tolwyn says, looking at his tactical officer.
“Yes, sir?”
“Prepare our Falas transponder codes.
“Aye, sir,” Tolwyn nods and his vision sweep on down the bridge.
“Comm?” the young on-duty comm officer looks up at Tolwyn.
“Yes, Kapitan?”
“Inform Korvettenkapitan Okamato he is to do the same. And then prepare a secured channel and link it to my quarters, I will need to communicate with the Liberated New Hope officials when we return to n-space.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Mortimer, you have the bridge, I will be in my quarters.”
“Aye, Kapitan, I have the bridge,” Tolwyn stands and his eyes once again trace across the colors of hyperspace. Just ahead of his battleship, he can see the smaller shape of the HMS Lightening, Okamato’s destroyer serving as his ship’s single escort. Surrounding the Protector are three freighters of varying make, serving as the colliers of the small raiding force. They’re transponders already read as those of Falas merchantmen. Tolwyn’s eyes once again return to the bridge, and then he turns to return to his quarters.

**********

Ensconced back inside the quiet comfort of his quarters, Tolwyn turns on the audio system. The tones of Stravinsky fill the area serving as his office and sitting area, and he moves his hand lazily in the patterns to the music as he sips from a cup of pepper-flower tea and waits for the chronometer’s alarm to announce the return to normal space.
A few minutes later the harsh beep sounds. Tolwyn cuts the music and moves toward the comm terminal on his desk. He takes a moment to straighten his uniform, a Falas one to his own moderate amusement, and activates the comm, with its special channel giving him a direct line to the Liberated New Hope foreign affair’s office
“This is Captain Isaac Laden of the High Fleet of Falasmayon. My ship, the Aleksander and its escort, the Dagger, are escorting the freighters Michaels, Star’s Tail, and Volter to the system per our initial agreement. I now request permission to enter orbit and proceed to open negotiations on the transfer of our shipment.”
With that, Tolwyn cuts the comm and awaits the required response from the dominant government of the Morning Star system.

There is a small pause which is soon followed by a grainy sound coming over the comm, "This is MS traffic control, permission granted. You may enter orbit whenever ready," The communication seems over, but then suddenly continues; "and don't forget to stop by Burger Hut, Liberated New Hope's best place for a hot cup of joe, and an even more hot burger. This weeks special is the Big Cahuna Rack o' Ribs, only $9.99! Participation may vary"

Tolwyn represses the urge to grimace at the return “code” from the Morning Star traffic controller, “Indeed I shall. Please inform the foreign minister that a representative of the High Chancellor will be ferried down to the planet with the first wave of crewmen on planetside R-and-R rotation.”
With that Tolwyn cuts the link and picks his cup of tea off from his deck. He takes a deep drink from it, and then moves to refill the plain cup from the silver teapot on its tray.
“Resume play, track seventeen,” he says, as he squeezes a lemon into his tea. The tones of Stravinsky retake the silent air of Tolywn’s quarters. He kicks back his chair, closes his eyes, and allows the music to wash over him as the task force continues on toward the homeworld of Liberated New Hope.

**********

A little over an hour later, the two warships and the three accompanying freighters enter their pre-arranged orbital flight pattern. Tolwyn steps off one of the Protector’s many lifts onto the battleship’s hanger bay. He removes the peaked cap bearing the emblem of the Star Armada from under his arm and places it firmly on his head in a single crisp motion. A pair of Sardaukar, dressed in Falas military uniforms stand next to a small pinnance. With them are Fregattenkapitan Jäger, and Lord Erwin Ribbentrop, dispatched from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Jäger comes to attention as Tolwyn approaches.
Tolwyn returns the salute and second remains at ease. Then Tolwyn turns to the aging Ribbentrop.
“My Lord, are you ready for departure to the planet?”
The ancient ambassador nods, “Indeed I am, Kapitan Tolwyn, although I will be rolling in the irony of this whole situation during my entire stay on this planet. Only a short while ago I was acting as the liaison to the government of Seven Heads. Truly, God has a sadistic sense of humor.”
“Indeed,” Tolwyn says. “After you, My Lord.”
With that Ribbentrop boards, followed by Tolwyn and the two Sardaukar. Four minutes later, the pinnance is headed away from the battleship and toward the planet itself.

Far out in the inky blackness of space, two ships hung motionless. Semaphore lights played up and down their hulls, so as to avoid radio trasmissions. Both were massive vessels, as befitting a CorpSac ship. They were Ravanos heavy cruisers, nearly 2 kilometers in length and stuffed to the bulkheads with firepower. It was this quality which had made them so popular with the people of Far Tortuga Station, whose livelihood depended on succesful attacks against the heavily armed transports of the Gamma Quadrant.

On the bridge of Knife of Inverness, Captain Gharei contemplated this and other things. She and her fellow Tortugans had been called here, away from their comfortable station-mansions, to serve as mercenaires for the country of Vernii. Upon arrival, they had virtually occupied the territory of the defunct Kerezin kingdom, using it as a base. Now Gharei and another captain, Lord Faulknor of the Reaver of Spoot, had sallied forth to raid shipping and plunder enemy installations. Business was slow however, so the two pirates had retired to the Morning Star system to plot their next move.

The arrival of three frieghters and their escorts had been quickly picked up by both Tortugans, but there was little they could do. Gharei had inquiried of her first lieutenant, half-heartedly, "I suppose Falasmayon is an illegitimate target?"

"Corret, my lady. The Verniians were quite explicit that we seek out Ortegan or Valinon ships only, and raiding of Vernii's allies was prohibited.

Gharei spat with disgust. "I don't see why Janacek puts up with the vermin. We should take our money, carve out a new home in Kerezin, and raid these people at leisure."

"Perhaps the Grand Admiral sees more profit in assisting the Vernii."

"The 'Grand Admiral' sees a fat lordship for himself if the Vernii emerge triumphant, and damn the rest of us. No matter. Signal the Reaver that we will jump in 48 hours. And continue monitoring those freighters, we'll probably have to raid them out of sheer desperation at this point."

"Yes, my lady." The lieutenant stomped off to the semaphore room, leaving Gharei to sink into her chair in relative silence. Noise emenated from the control-pit infront of her, but there was no silence anywhere on a ship as crowded as the Inverness.

United Valinon News Network, Government VidNet, Nu-Space Feed

The Congress of Lords massive chamber in the Imperial Congressional Building, in the heart of New Koln known as Imperial Centre, is filled. Today would not be a day missed by any of the members of the Lords if they could possibly help it. A few of the Lords eldest members are even present in varying degrees of disability. A formally dressed guardsman, bearing a sword and standard with the flag of Valinon draped over it, walks into the middle of the chamber's open floor, before the center table reserved for the members of the Government.
He raps the base of the standard on the marble of the chamber, "All rise for the entrance of the Honorable Statesman of His Majesty's Government!"
The guard speaks in the German that is the "official" language of the Valinor government, and the only tongue spoken in the official meetings of both houses of the Imperial Diet.
The key officials of His Majesty's government file in, dressed in the formal magisterial robes of their offices. First is Duke Leo Sterling, Prime Minister of His Majesty's Government. He is followed by Lord Karl Leander, First Minister for His Majesty's Colonial Affairs; Dame Melanie de Vachel, First Minister for His Majesty's Treasury; Director William Pickering, Director of His Majesty's Minister for External State Security; Director Sir Georgi Flerov, Director of His Majesty's Minister for Internal State Security; and Praetor Consul Kurt Diebner, head of His Majesty's College of Consuls.
But the last member entering is a surprise, instead of the typical, stooped figure of Count Viktor Leopold, long First Minister for His Majesty's Foreign Affairs, the younger, youthful figure of Lady Diedre Rolt, Second Minister for His Majesty's Foreign Affairs walks in his place. A slight mummer passes through the chamber.
Duke Sterling takes his place at the elevated chair reserved for the Prime Minister.
"Be seated, Lord and Ladies," Sterling says, continuing in German. He reaches for the heavy, oak gavel of his office, and pounds it on the chamber-master's podium. "This emergency session of His Majesty's Congress, called on behalf of both His Majesty and the Honorable Senators of the Commons, is hereby called to order."
Sterling pounds his gavel twice, "Before the chamber we have three matters to consider. The first is a demand by both the Palace and the Commons for a Declaration of War against the nations of the People's Republic of Vernii and the Commonwealth of the WIck. The second is the demand by the Palace and the Commons for the sealing of the wormhole junction to all hostile, or hostile allied shipping and personnel. The third, and final issue, is the demand by both the Palace and the Commons for emergency powers taken in by the Article of War and Emergency in the Realm, Eighth Year of the Second Empire, to be activated and said emergency powers granted to His Majesty's and His Majesty's Ministers and Warlords until such time the security of the realm is assured, and its enemies vanquished."
"As is due and proper before moving on into these issues, the Government will now take one hour to address any questions from the floor. We will now open the chamber to speakers. Hauptmann, attend to the speakers and see that due order is maintained!"
"Yes, Your Grace."
After eighteen minutes, Archduke Ivan Koneiv, stands on his feet. Often called the "Conscious of the Lords", the last member of the former Syberian Lords Coalition, is a relic from the past.
"Your Grace," he says in his harsh whisper, "if I may be so bold, where is Count Leopold? His presence and experience is sorely missed in this chamber."
Sterling seems taken aback for a moment, he opens his mouth, then closes it again. He nods, and then continues.
"Your Grace," Sterling says to Koneiv, "it is with great regret that I must report to the Chamber that Count Leopold has taken seriously ill. I have no word on his present condition, but I know from His Majesty and Countess Leopold that his health is failing."
Koneiv, along with many others in the chamber, look very, very sober.
"I regret to hear that, Your Grace. Please pass on my sympathies to Countess Leopold, and to the rest of Count Leopold's family."
"Indeed I shall, Your Grace, indeed I shall," the questions continue, and shortly after so does the voting on perhaps the three gravest issues presented to the Lords since the beginning of the second round of the Outer Dominion Wars.

**********

Four hours later, the circle is complete. All measures put before the Congress of Lords are passed by a majority, although the last matter of granting Gustav II emergency powers was granted by only a very slim majority. However, the measure has passed and Gustav II, Emperor of the Valinor, is left with more power than any Alderman has held since the days of Penrod the Great and the forging of the Second Empire.
It is said in Valinon a citizen of the Star Empire knows his duty--first to God or the Laylines (the Taoists of the old former Dominion territories play with Valinon's Christian majority), second to His Majesty and House Alderman, and third to the Fatherland. Only half-joking it is said that when war and a state of emergency is declared, even God must stand down to whichever Alderman holds the Throne of the Twin Suns.
Gustav Alderman II is already termed The Lion Emperor of Valinon, and in the six hours following the Lords' decisions, his roar is felt. Imperial decrees spew forth from the Palace and Imperial Centre, spirited across the Star Empire by the Nu-space network and officials couriers. One-fourth of Valinon's food stores and production are seized in the name of supplying the High Command's war machine, the coffers of the Imperial Treasury are opened as the armed forces buy massive quantities of metals, both refined and in ore formed. Personnel in Valinon's shipbuilding industry are hired by the Government itself, so that the production in the shipyards of the Armada may have double or triple their personnel numbers. By personal order of Gustav II, all members of the United Guilds of Valinon, the Valinor Industrial and Research Unity, and the half-dozen or so corporations, et cetera belonging to neither of these organizations give priority to the production of war materials. The full might of the Reserves are brought to bear, as are the forces of the Outer Defense Militia and the Inter-Solar System Security Force.
But most worrisome of all, Fuse Armaments, Incorporated, long the producer of Valinon's nuclear arsenal, is told that the prohibition against completing its new Thanatos-class warhead and delivery system has been repealed. The ebbing strength of Fuse is rallied, as it moves to produce the most powerful weapon in Valinon's arsenal, a weapon capable of delivering a 12.2-gigaton fusion warhead.

**********

United Valinon News Network, Emergency Flash Broadcast, Nu-space and Vid feed

Citizens of the Fatherland,

It is my sad duty to report to you that at this time, 2114, the 1021 year of Valinon, that Count Viktor Leopold, First Minister for His Majesty's Foreign Affairs and Senior Staatsmann of the Congress of Lords, has passed away at the age of 398. His loss is one that will be mourned by the nation, for with him goes a piece of our history and one of our greatest leaders. His Majesty and myself will speak later on behalf of Count Leopold's family, and will announce the plans for a funeral in state.

Duke Leo Sterling
His Majesty's Prime Minister and First Minister for His Majesty's Imperial Affairs

Darius and Samul stroll along the central courtyards of the Guardian's Palace.

"You know the working class will despise you. Who the hell knows what the Navy will do." Darius nearly whispers to his Prime.

"And what do you think they'll do when our populous is enslaved, or worse; nuked out of existence!" Hudan suddenly becomes of aware of his volume and begins to whisper again. Servants around the garden give him odd looks. "The Orts are only one system away, Darius. One system. Erewhon has dropped out of the war. Vernii can NOT stop them. I made a command decision to save my people."

"So what now? You expect me to tell Setties that we're declaring war with the very people that fought along side us to end the SH wars? I will follow you sir, but Setties will go berserk when he hears this." Darius replies, still staying quiet.

"Just do it. I want a Valinor diplomat entering my system before a New Ortagan armada. You will negotiate a deal with the Valinor. That is all." Hudan disguises emotion by staring deeply at the flowers. "We have no choice."

An hour later... (clock ticking sound effect)

Darius sits on the hood of his limo beside the landing point, waiting for the Valinor Diplomats to arrive. Standing on either side of the limousine are Sedrik, Talia, and two armed guards to his right (Wadsworth chose to stay in the car because of the heat), and yet another two armed guards to his left. Darius looks to the gaurds at either side of him and desides to break the ice.

"Hey, What's the difference between a clergyman and a bucket of sewage?" There's a rather long pause and no-one reacts to the question. "Anyone... anyone? The bucket. heh..." Darius looks rather embarrassed. "Ok, I heard this one Constantine Tiberius, get this... so a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead escape from prison, right?" Just then, Sedrick looks to the sky to see the small craft coming from the heavens.

"Sir, the Valinor transport is arriving," He says quite solemnly.

Darius hops off of the limo and says, "Alright boys, look your best. If this doesn't iron out we're all rather thoroughly screwed," while straightening his jacket collar.

The transport lands and they all wait for the contents to empty out onto the landing pad.

The pinnance's embark and disembark ramp descends with a quiet grace. Althought it would hold up to a quick inspection, upon careful viewing the pinnance's five petal Falasmayon crest is not exactly the most professional job. And there appears to have been another emblem on the pinnance before that one came into existence on its hull.
A single man, dressed in the uniform of the Falas Guard, descends first, weapon and eyes scrutinizing the area. He is followed by a man dressed in the uniform of a Falas capitan, and another man dressed in a plain suit. A second Guardsman descends, completing the group.
Something seems strange about the two men the Guards are protecting. The uniform the capitan is wearing does not seem to fit exactly, and the man with him stands stiffer than his clothing would suggest he was accustomed to. Most noticeable of all, is the fact that the shoes the man wearing the suit is wearing are not shoes at all, but the high boots, jack boots really, that are the formal wear of only one nation in the Raumreich.
The party moves toward Darius.
"I bring you greetings from the Twin Suns, my friend," says the older man in his suit. "Shall we retire to a more comfortable location as soon as possible? My associates and I wish a....change of attire."

"Why of course, sir. If I may guide you to the limosine." He leads the men to the door where one of the armed gaurds opens the door and allows the men in. "Sorry about all the security, we've had a bit of a terrorism problem in the past, but not to worry. You've got the best security force in the system protecting you right now." Darius smiles and looks out the window. "Wadsworth, if you could pour these fine men a drink. I believe we all need some refreshment after even a small stay out in that heat."