NationStates Jolt Archive

[gnet.304002.43004][beginlink-useraccess???-override]

There are but four rights. They are the Rights Requisite to Economic Strength, and the foundation of the liberated market.

First, a right to buy, sell, use, pass as inheritance, and own property, land, buildings, machinery, inventions.

Second, a right to own businesses, and to retain all profits made.

Third, the freedom of economic choice in career, habitat, business, consumption, investment, savings.

Fourth, the freedom of competition.

It is this last which is profoundly affected by the new, growing presence and nature of government.

More and more, we see the bleak reality of the Corporate Federal Conglomerate: that of a monopolistic oligopoly using the concepts of corporate nationalism and hypernationalism to justify it's stranglehold on the political and economic markets.

Perhaps the current administration of the CoFedCo is not to blame. It's likely that the lingering aftereffects of the post-socialist PrattCo Conglomerate takeover of Santa Barbaran government still influence it's sociopolitical outlook and structural organization. But, as is the problem with any so-called corporatocratic government, favoritism and cronyism come into play, and dominate the stage.

Proponents of this monopocy will merely shrug and say that, in the Darwinian scheme of things, free market trends have succeeded in bringing the most competitive businesses to the top of the ladder.

I am not fooled. The larger and more powerful a corporation is, the larger and more powerful it's friends are, and from then on a purely social feedback loop guarantees that it will never go under, and never face true competition. Tax cuts given to the largest of corporations discourage the individual entrepeneur, and discourage the free market system.

It is one thing to succeed financially with respect to one's competition, it is another to legislate that success.

In avoiding government control of business, businesses have become the government, and use this political power to, indeed, legislate their own success. This has lead to the terrible paradox of our era: business control of government is effectively government control in a business environment, in a country that has stood for market liberation for centuries.

And in industries so heavily subsidized as auto manufacturing, one can hardly find an imported vehicle on the market at all. Is this free market policy? Officially, the government does not favor trade protectionism-- but if the shoe fits, I

[linkterminated-useraccessterminated]

[gnet.899252.68214][begindownlink-useraccess???-override]

There are three sins. Trade protectionism, public ownership, and government control of media, education, health care, utilities, mining, transportation and Market.

The Original Sin, the new challenge facing all peoples of the world, is one of poetic tragedy. To, through pure, private competition, arrive at a monopoly enforced and reinforced by law.

What happens then? What's the closing price of a nation suddenly becoming fascist or worse, state socialist?

It is my opinion, dear hypothetical reader and entrepeneur, that the only solution to such a hypothetical, is a rebellion, silent or violent, against the slavemasters.

The only solution is a revolution: a liberation of Market.

[linkterminated]

== tag for now ==

This is one of the coolest threads I've seen in a while. I wonder what it means? Maybe it's slowly developing into an RP. Now THAT would be cool.

Julia Bennings' home office, New State City, Santa Barbara
13:45. Thursday.

"And so, the first issue at this reconvention of the Trans National Exchange is in short, the general election amongst ourselves of a President of the Corporate Federal Conglomerate," the Speaker said, with professional calm. The words left his voice, amplified digitally and sent to receivers all around the world, while he seemed to breathe a sigh of renewal.

A moment later, and his image disappeared from the main vids, leaving just the blank podium. It was then that a corporate representative appeared in his place; a tall, lanky kind of woman with a face framed in beauty.

"Hello, everyone," she said casually, shattering the tension with a flash of teeth. "As some of you know, I'm Susan Gole, representing Disaster Relief, Inc. What this issue basically proposes is to use the TNE to effect the means of an elected leader of the CoFedCo. Currently, the President has no term limits, nor does he need the continued support of the true players of our world."

The true players, it was widely maintained, are the members of the TNE. They were more than that; the executives of the TNE member polities, the lord governors and the owners of powerful megacorps. In the quasi-feudal hiearchy of the day, they were the nobility; they were the military and the true power of Santa Barbara. Although subservient to the President, the actual rule allowed surprising amounts of freedom and local governance. Well, economic freedom, anyway.

"...this new Decree will put political power in the hands of the geographic and corporate bodies, who in turn represent the employee and citizen. It will avoid cronyism and corruption--"

Now she was going to far, it seemed. Although the TNE was held in virtual space, she could almost sense the silent gasps of some of her potential supporters. Heinrid Abadas? Cronies and corruption? Even if true, it was not the sort of thing one spoke in public-- DRI had some balls, pulling this stunt, that was for certain.

"If anything, it will settle this one issue. We have claimed to be a democracy ever since the CoFedCo was founded. But the leadership roles have not changed from the Federal Government. The world asks, is this more Corporate or Federal, this CoFedCo? Should we not be able to answer, truly, we are a republic of corporate polities?"

She had won them there. Her face was truly stunning as she smiled and bowed, lingering on the vids for a few extra seconds of aesthetic pleasure. Then the TNE logo flashed, and the voting market began.

19:03

When it was done, when the TNE computers quit accepting vote cashing and took a census of the results, when agents from Isla Vista to Mars finally stopped laboring in the nets to push, violently and chaotically, the will of the people up to the true players, the TNE-- the results were displayed, for all to see.

The issue had passed.

Cathedral Capital had voted against it, of course, spending 200 votes in the effort. GladBurger, Marcos Fernando's megacorp, also voted against, along with many other polities. GFE and Utopia Mining led the way for the decree, along with a startling swing vote: Bennings Enterprises.

Julia Bennings had not only surprised the world with her company's quick rise; now the megacorp had surpassed Cathedral Capital - and all other territories and corporations on the TNE - in votes generated. She had placed 350 votes for the issue, and it had passed, 836.4 to 611.

A new election would be held for the position held by Abadas, last held by old man Pratt himself; for control of the CoFedCo, the military, possibly the world -

- and it would occur in the same market that, as the power of Bennings Enterprise's vote now proved, Bennings herself now personally dominated.

((#tag# while I save this thread to my library floppy disk of d00m. Reply when my connection returns.))

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New State City, Santa Barbara
Friday Morning
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Annelien van Brederoode felt a shiver when the cold metal casing of the elevator closed around her. Her stomach went slightly queasy when her cabin was propelled upwards to her small office on the 84th floor of the third-highest office tower in New State City.

“Good morning computer”, she spoke entering the floor. The computer verified the voice and responded by beginning the daily start-up routine. The lights in the office flickered on simultaneously and the Knootian proceeded to hang up her jacket. “Good morning Annelien”, a female voice replied to her in warm, familiar Dutch. ”The time is eight fifty-three am. The weather in New State City is: clear. The weather in The Hague is: rainy, overcast. PBC closed 1,4 percent lower on the Amsterdam Exchange yesterday. You have two new messages in your inbox. A buzz indicated that her workstation was ready for use. “Thank you computer”, she replied out of habit, which was reciprocated by a pleasant humming sound.

Annelien was one of the not-so-many Knootians actually living in the CoFedCo territory. After the ratifying of the KIST treaty by most the major players in Santa Barbara, she had been appointed by the Pink Bunny Cola corporation as a liaison of sorts, to build networks and relations to open up the market. But instead of a groundlayer she felt more like an early explorer, overwhelmed by the massiveness of the land and the corporations controlling it. “This is how Marco Polo must have felt in China”, she sometimes thought to herself.

The two new messages now displayed on the screen did not look all too important – a loose business contact declining an offer to do business with PBC as she had already expected… and the KNN Business newsletter. Usually the newsletter focussed on domestic Knootian business so much that it was nearly useless to her job in Santa Barbara but she skimmed it nevertheless.

"...this new Decree will put political power in the hands of the geographic and corporate bodies, who in turn represent the employee and citizen. It will avoid cronyism and corruption--"

Her eyes refocused. This was news. She read the article thoroughly and headed for the workstation next to hers which contained the videophone. She rearranged her hair slightly before the camera started to record her report.

---


Santa Barbara Progress Report.
Employee: A.J. Brederoode, van
Access: level 3 staff and management only


“This progress report deals with recent developments in Santa Barbara and enclosed with this transmission you will find several sources regarding developments in Corporate Federal Conglomerate system and a new deal on the Trans National Exchange. If desired, a more detailed analysis can be produced for the board.

As a preliminary I can say this however - an elected leader of the CoFedCo may encourage actual competition between the corporations which in turn may provide an opportunity for more open markets here for our products, if we take advantage of this and support the right players.

As regular viewers of my reports know I have been sent her to lay the groundwork for opening up the Market for Pink Bunny Products here and to search for strategic partners. So far unsuccessfully.

In my conversations with the people here… it has been as if I encountered some sort of hidden resistance; a glass wall if you will. The ‘true players’ won’t do business with us and the others are, well… they are either too small or they are… reluctant is the word. Every offer I make has so far been turned down which is quite unusual. I’ve been stationed for the Corporation in the DDR as consultant and in Zvarinograd with a similar job description and the business networks there were fairly open and transparent compared to this.. conglomerate.

I’d like to recommend that additional resources are diverted to the Santa Barbara department so I.. the corporation can investigate the scene here more thoroughly. End transmission.”

((OOC: if anything wrong just tell me… just checking up on my brainchild. Not really planning to ‘do’ anything. This looks really nice.))

[gnet.130921.49134][beginlink-useraccess???-override]

...now, as we progress towards the liberated, equilibriated Market, one has to be careful. Agents of the hypernationalistic Government are everywhere, attempting to weed out those who aren't subdued by the government-subsidized advertiseculture. They don't care if you're fat, if you're lazy or stupid or physically a threat, or even if you break a law. It's your mind they want, to enslave you to the fascist government posing as a free-market Capitalist!

To swear "fealty" to "Lord" President Abadas, to fork over hard-earned nondollars and your children to Defense as "obligation." To buy in to their puppet paradigm and destroy any opportunities you might have had.

Do you remember your cousin, who tried six times to start up a business, but who inevitably failed - not through faulty management or low capital, but destroyed by megacorps hiding behind the laws meant to profit themselves? Do you remember your sons or fathers and brothers and sisters, your people who were sucked into the maw of the Eye Tee Dee Oh or perhaps that Other military, the International military? Some of them returned, maybe. In pieces.

They want to keep feeding us into the grinder, fighting enemies who could never threaten us, with whom none of us have issues. Maybe the TNE will save us, I don't know, but in the end it too must fade. In the end there must only be Market.

They've almost got me now, it seems, but I know how to get by. It was slow for a go, but now the Liberation must renew.

[linkterminated]

TNE DECREES

1-A "The TNE polities shall vote as part of CoFedCo Presidential election every 5 years."

2-A "The current CoFedCo President, if not re-elected, shall step down from office 30 days after the election."

3-A "Federal Laws 456A,456B,459 (the National Police Authority Codes) and 563 (Gay Marriage) shall be repealed."

4-A "Federal Law 122 (the ITDO Liege Tax) shall be repealed."

5-A "Federal Laws 571-592 (the Procensorship Laws) shall be repealed."

6-A "The TNE shall administer and command the ITDO."

Harport Crater
Santa Barbaran Noachia
Mars
4:34 PM Mars Time. Wednesday.

In an office, there is a desk, and on this desk an ITDO strategic subcommander placed an unassuming, square, palm-sized datapad with an unassumingly dull 'clack' on the polished surface.

"What is this, StratSub?" Strategic Core Subcommander Buelo, sitting behind the desk on a rigid, tall, uncomfortable-seeming padded iron chair. Mars iron.

"I had Gellings and his programs write it up. Fourty-six pages. The Noachian Constitution, sir." The younger officer was not apologetic in his tone, but full of life and boldness, the passion of untested youth and idealism.

SCS Buelo shook his head. "Dammit, we already discussed this, all of us did."

"Yes, sir," the SS replied.

Buelo let out a sigh. He pulled the data pad toward himself and began cursorily examining it. "It's a good job, I assume."

"The rights requisite to economic strength. Freedoms. Independence from the CoFedCo," the officer responded proudly.

Buelo nodded, expecting this. He was tired, a man drained of any remaining ghosts of ambition through constant work, administrating the chaotic ITDO comings, goings, reorganizations and funding. Freedom sounded pretty good right now.

"It'll probably start a war. You want that?"

"No, sir," he replied, adding, "It's the right thing, sir."

Buelo again looked at the datapad, glancing at the main points. All was as they had discussed. But it was all so sudden, there was more planning, more work to do first...

"The TNE's scheduled for you tonight, sir," the stratsub pointed out.

Buelo nodded again. His mind had already been made up, but in his reluctance he had temporarily forgotten that. "Speech?"

"Gellings is almost finished. Fifteen minutes, he says. You're on in fourty."

"Alright. Let's go."

Office of Heinrid Abadas, CoFedCo HQ
New State City
Santa Barbara
Earth
5:46 AM. Thursday.

Heinrid Abadas was literally pacing between the desk and the east window of his office. Marcos Fernandos sat with one leg propped casually onto the other, hands gesturing to emphasize his urging. This was an increasingly usual scene in the office of the President.

"I've issued the statement, and Buelo will be mobilizing the Frozen Infantry," Fernandos said. "But the Aumani government shows no sign that this bothers them. It's.. odd."

"Odd?" Abadas stopped pacing momentarily.

"Unless they think we're bluffing. Unfortunately, we're not, and we could get drawn into a war with Auman and possibly their allies in the Vascillian League."

"Over Noachia. Bloody damned desert."

Marcos Fernandos's wizened head bobbed up and down soberly. "They give, we give."

Abadas said, "Hmm. The Mars Fleet's still in orbit. That's... one hundred twenty one warships, all with surface strike capability. I'd guess the FI can mop up their ground forces once the fleet's blasted them to hell."

"We will have a causus belli and numerous allies, and if it turns out Aumani territory is to be redistributed, we will have a vested interest in that redistribution," Fernandos agreed.

"Numerous allies. Too many," Abadas said, starting to pace again. "They will all want to profit, but it's our buffer territory that's invaded, it's in our direction their forces are moving. Dammit!" he stopped and pounded the nearest chair, which Fernandos was feeling lucky not to be sitting in. "Do they think us stupid? Weak? Cowardly?"

Nodding, Marcos Fernando attempted to steer the conversation back to the more dire threat - the TNE, and Julia Benning's increased leverage, and the elections. The power of democracy, in fact, capitalist democracy. It was shattering Abadas's neo-feudal dream, and it was all involved somehow with the Invisible Hand. But before he could do so, he was interrupted by the President.

"We're not. And they'll find out. They all will."

It seemed Abadas already shifted toward that subject. "Speaking of which, what is our game plan for today's market?"

But he shrugged. "Bennings Enterprises is down. 2-A was alarming, but again it hinges on this election. And an election is different from this TNE nonsense, on this one we can appeal directly to the consumers. And we'll have to. But Julia doesn't have it. I don't think being voted out of office is in my destiny, Marcos."

"Maybe not. But the real problem remains; already they're voting on the ITDO decree. If this one passes we won't have authority over the damned military without their say-so - though I wonder how anyone manages that will be enforced..."

"Pah!" Abadas snorted. "They can't change the chain of command. They can sure as hell make my job a lot more difficult. You're right, we need to do something, but I'll be damned if I want to openly oppose the TNE. That's just what they want us to do, and skewer us in the election."

"Not openly, then."

Nodding slowly, no longer pacing. "No. Of course not." Abadas sighed. "But how far do we go this time? Adler's working overtime. And I'm learning not to rely too much on Tzu."

Marcos winced inwardly. That was another sensitive subject, and he had bad news. Oh well, he thought. Better deliver it. "It seems you're right not to," he began.

Eyes narrowing thoughtfully, Abadas gestured for him to continue. "Adler's agents report that someone's been hacking into high level military satellite communications. Nothing too major, no information stolen - but high level, no one can force their way past the encryptions. It must have taken high security authorization and inside knowledge, and so we monitored a few hundred possible candidates's computer activities for a few days. Last night Tzu logged in, started chatting with MP1."

"...chatting?" Abadas echoed.

"I'm not sure of the specifics. Adler's got a report for you."

"Very well, send him in. What do you think, I mean Jesus. How serious is this?"

Frowning, Marcos replied, "I'm not certain. It depends on his motive, though regardless it is clearly an illegal act, even for the head of the IIA, to break into CCCTG datanets. And MetaPratt One..."

"They're not exchanging brownie recipes, that's for sure," Abadas agreed. He sighed again. It was going to be a hard day.

One of many in the last months of the Presidency.

Ooh, interesting...
This has been an Ineffable Tag, Sponsored by Reply-Induced-Subscription and Molten Boron. There's no better boron!

Home of Julia Bennings
395 Main Route 45
40 km N of New State City
Santa Barbara
Earth
7:30 AM. Thursday.

Time to wake up, she told herself in her dream. Then she did.

"Alright," she said eagerly, swinging her sturdy but long legs from under her covers. "Time to wake up."

Julia's enthusiasm for the concept of a new day was unending. She saw all life as circles, always coming back to where one started, so she made damn sure she was happy with each point in the circle. Each day, each year, each quarter. She slept well, and ate well, and worked hard and was paid well. She didn't seek power for the sake of power, rather it seemed to seek her.

When she'd first talked with Bob Pratt, the man looked five or ten years older than he was, and he had the charisma of a freshly peeled slug. But he'd had the air of power behind him, and even though she had made it clear to him that first dinner that she was not willing to do certain things with male business partners, he was intent on sealing the deal.

Unusual, but not for her. She thought of herself as like lightning, and those in power liked to channel her.

When she was showered and dressed, she gathered her things for a day at work: a laptop computer and her PDA. No more was required.

She opened the apartment door, and noticed at her feet a small slip of paper. She felt her routine stop, and, suspiciously glancing round herself, stooped and picked it up.


You play a dangerous game. Are you sure you know the rules?


Childish, she thought. She didn't fear someone who only had the power to send her hate mail. But someone had coerced a housekeeper into leaving this here, or one of the housekeepers themselves had - no, that was nonsense. Still, it was a danger, a security leak, and it had to be plugged. She sighed. She would have preferred a stuck toilet; it would be easier to deal with and stink less.

The car she drove was a TLA, the new model called Bungie 5. 10,000 horsepower put it in the midrange muscle, but it was elegant and quite expensive, and had anything a modern businesswoman could want. It also had a range booster for her laptop, which she plugged into the node on the dash as she prepared herself for the most difficult - and dangerous - part of her daily life.

Driving to work.

Luckily, there was no need to wait for traffic to move to start the day off. She had the comp on voice commands - she didn't usually, otherwise - and started pulling the latest updates of the TNE.

Hmm... Cathedral Capital up 6. But GladBurger down 7.8.

Bennings Enterprises continued to grow. But it was her allies now, that counted. She was the linchpin, and the movement towards the free market evolved naturally through no command of her own. It focused on her, centered around her, for the same reason Bob Pratt, CEO of the largest megacorp (technically) in history, wanted her for a high ranking position within the PCC. Lightning and metal.

Lace-Tintown Cosmetics. Disaster Relief, Inc. Utopia Mining Co. GFE. EPM. They voted as she voted, because she knew each and every CEO and major player, and she got things done.

Issue 10 had become Decree 6-A. The TNE would "administer and command the ITDO." The details of that ditty were marvelous, and they emasculated that racist prick, Abadas, as command in chief of the CoFedCo. It also ensured that no matter who won the election, they would not have arbitrary, total control of the military. Power would be in the hands of the Market.

She smiled. An I really becoming a believer? No, she couldn't, there had to be some control. The Market was a blind idiot, chaos. Economic forces can't dictate all politics. Someone has to be in charge.

And, hey, she thought, if that someone is to be me I won't complain. I will channel the energy, just as always.

Apartment 15, Umbrella Street
New State City
Santa Barbara
Earth
9:22 AM. Thursday.

Gonzalo Tzu was just starting to relax at the small round table, drink coffee and reading the news when the TNE coverage began. A very interesting coverage. The screen was filled with the face of SCS Buelo, heading up the Mars theater. He'd seemed to age twenty years in the last ten.

It was a repeat of an earlier live broadcast, and subtitled, so Tzu skipped the audio for the sake of absorbing the whole text.


The Santa Barbaran federal government, along with a consortium of megacorporate interests, set out during the last years of the reign of the PCC to claim territory on Mars. Discovering that all territory had been claimed, even the oceans, after a quick delegation, the Santa Barbarans purchased the land outright. A land called, to this day, Santa Barbara Noachia.

To consolidate this claim on the Bringer of War, an Integrated Theater Defense Organization force was relocated to this new territory. Accumulating greater numbers over the years, especially of the Frozen Infantry - elite, veteran warriors who are kept 'frozen' in stasis for years until needed.

In the first Martian Melkor War, a pinprick raid was conducted by what appeared as a lone Melkorian gunship with a small contingent of common orcs, on the outskirts of the SBN military zone. But no response was ever made; though the order was given to awaken the Frozen Infantry, it was never carried out.

For 45 years we have been kept since, isolated from the real world, locked in nanostasis, simultaneously seeming both immortal and nonsentient. We were prevented from doing our duties and, indeed, tasting the air of life for longer than necessary or acceptable. The reason was our Santa Barbaran masters never intended for us to defend our territory, nor the colony to grow in size and importance.

We were to be bait.

The militaristic megacorporations of the PCC and later, the Corporate Federal Conglomerate, had interests that would benefit from an attack by an aggressor state on Santa Barbara Noachia. It would renew public interest in this cold desert of ours back in Santa Barbara. We, the cream of the crop of the ITDO, were to be sacrificial lambs, helpless when the slaughter arrived.

We, the free people and businesses of the Cold Deserts of Noachia, do no longer accept the morality or right of the CoFedCo to govern our lives and business, and, pursuing the objectives and principles set down in this Constitution, do hereby establish the Corporate Republic of Santa Barbara Noachia, in all lands formerly claimed by the CoFedCo and Cathedral Capital.


Gonzalo, startled though not surprised, began to ponder the implications of this. Noachia was revolting; they would press this issue in the TNE, and the TNE - which earlier voted down an issue to grant sovereignty to any TNE polity that desires - would vote it down. Bennings and the Hand allies couldn't sway some things, and rebellion was too great a fear.

Then it all depended on Buelo, or whoever was behind the movement to break away on Mars. Could foreign agents be involved? Possibly. It was incredible timing, as the issue proposal was transmitted just before the Aumani invasion. It was impossible to judge the situation there; Tzu had no presence on Mars other than MP1.

If Noachia revolted and the ITDO was sent to change the situation -

-but then, the TNE controlled the ITDO now, didn't they? Tzu chuckled, despite the madness of it all. Abadas would no sooner give up his testicles than be forced out of the command of the military he had managed to keep alive all these years. If the TNE overrode his decision to use force to reclaim the Mars colony, there would be a civil war.

He examined that situation. The TNE wasn't whole; it was Bennings and extreme libertarian capitalist idealogists. Bennings might be an unofficial sort of leader, but it wouldn't match Abadas's connections and authority. The TNE would vote to diminish the ITDO, and probably had that issue lined up already. Not many in the military would be for that. The military was important in this war, but there were other factors. Economically, Bennings Enterprises was now larger than Cathedral Capital, the TNE ratings showed that. That was important.

But could Abadas afford to use force anyway? That was worth consideration. The new 'constitution' could 'force his hand,' and it wouldn't surprise Tzu if the whole thing had been orchestrated with that objective. He might do that and still sneak by the election, but it was more likely the election would be decided long before candidates were selected and voting began.

Tzu had craved power, and it had been one of the reasons he killed Toby Pratt. Together with MetaPratt One, they had vaporized the Pratt Dynasty. Was it all a good idea?

He decided to confide in the only individual he could safely discuss this with...

Harport Crater
Santa Barbaran Noachia
Mars
8:15 PM Mars Time. Thursday.

"I don't believe it," SCS Buelo exclaimed, shaking his head.

"They must have infiltrated us," Strategic Commander Santiago insisted. "They know now is our weakest moment."

Gellings, the scriptwriter, seemed to ignore the weighty effect the news of the Aumani invasion had on the two men. "You need a script, Core Commander. A lot of people are going to need a firm response. You can't come apart right now."

Buelo frowned and nodded at the same time. "Yes, yes," he said dismissively. "We have Aumani troops crossing the border of the development zone, ITDO ships ordered to enter orbit overhead, but the TNE is now in control of the ITDO." He rubbed his head. It had been a long day.

"The TNE will take forever to change any orders. They have to vote in other issues in the que - like our constitution, of course, and probably others," Santiago pointed out.

"As Abadas well knew," Buelo said growlingly, "This is his final 'fuck you' before they vote him out of office."

"We need a script, this is a war of words now," Gellings insisted.

"Shut up!" Buelo said, firmly but not loudly. He was not a loud man.

"He's right, sir," Santiago said. "We need to get as many people on our side as possible. Even if the TNE ratifies our constitution, the ITDO fleet will have wiped us out before they can do anything to stop it."

"Damn fleets," Buelo muttered. "They turn warfare into pointless showboating by the ship manufacturers and politicians."

Gellings looked like he was about to say something, but thought better of it with a glowering cue from Strategic Commander Santiago.

"Fine," Buelo said. "I don't like it, but it's necessary. Send diplomatic pods out to Bajon, NRRB, Mangala; we'll want mutual defense treaties. Maybe if we can defend them with our Frozen Infantry, they'll help us in the space arena. We need that shipping to continue! If the ITDO blockades us they'll have massive starvation in the Belt. And here too."

He paused. "And I'll want to deliver a message to the Duma. I'll need your help, Gellings."

Gellings looked like he thought he'd never be asked.

[*OOC: Wrote this before Auman pulled out of the territory, so this is technically in the past. Not that it really matters, its not central to the story.

Oh by the way, this is now open. Any questions TG me.]

MSS Nemo
Earth-Mars Transfer
150 hours from Mars Orbit
10:10 PM Mars Time. Thursday.

She was a Bolden Corp supertrader, assembled in Low Earth Orbit at Low Cost.

Over 1.2 kilometers in length, and massing seven million tonnes, the MSS looked like a long, compact string of squarish and spherical dull grey blocks terminating in the heat and scorching glow of a fusion torch.

Four fusion-electric plants gave the beast, an Atlas class MSS named Nemo, 8.77 GW of power to play with, almost all of which was used simply to propel the ship along it's course. The remainder provided the 14 crewmembers with food, water, air and a fair bit of luxuries compared to smaller, less expensive vessels.

Nine million cubic meters of cargo volume, filled with consumer convinience goods, raw and production materials, industrial accessory equipment and components of all kinds. Nine million cubic meters of cargo, bound for Mars, bound for a highly unusual destination.

Her captain was Manager Tersis, and he was worried. His job had been getting gradually less stable over the years, and now it required him to bring his ship into the thick of danger. It was frowned upon, in general, to trade with foreign governments directly. It was downright illegal to export certain products

Jake Henson, as with the rest of the crew, was unaware of all that. Instead, he sat idly at a desk, feeling very much as on Earth right now, due to the gravity produced by acceleration. It was actually 1.1 G, but he didn't notice the difference.

hows the view on your side J?

He chuckled. There was no view in the Comm 2 apartment. Vera Temerlig knew that, and was in a similar metal cube on the port side. He typed out a reply, not wanting to disturb the solid silence with his voice (which would get him in trouble, or at least heap more work upon him).

wonderfully beautiful, just like ass.

A few minutes passed. In the military, a job like his would be strenuous. He would pipeline orders from the C-i-C to gunnery officers on gun decks, or coordinate fleet formation commands or relay routine drills. Not that he wanted a military job; this was quite fine. There were never any calls, or drills, or any real work for him.

There really is a view, you know.

Huh?

Almost a whole minute passed.

If you can move everything away from the right wall and open up the access duct there is a portal. Or at least there is on my side like that...

He looked around him. Nope, his manager wasn't around. He was glad; his manager had only joined the company (turned 18) 7 weeks before him, and acted like that mattered. Luckily, the acceleration made moving around require leg muscles and balance, and his manager was fat and prefered to float in null gee. (Who didn't? It was fun.)

brb

The left wall was where, while in Earth orbit at OMF City 4, Jake had been used to manually heft and stack large crates filled with nails and screws and other basic hardware. Those four days, Jake had felt like he had finally scored a real job; he was in orbit, finally having left the underwater city of Tyrone B and his father and brother behind. Working hard and sleeping amidst the stars.

That was two months ago; the Nemo, he had learned, was taking the high efficiency, long-time approach to conserve fuel.

He lifted the boxes down again, making an effort not to create a lot of noise. It was a shame; noisemaking was something he was good at and did naturally. Or as natural as magboarding down the narrow side-tubes back in BoCo Sector of Tyrone B can be...

Behind the boxes, he opened one of the panels with a screwdriver off his Swiss Army Knife. He wondered briefly who the Swiss were.

He looked inside the duct, using the mondo flashlight from the desk (in case ship's power went out), but he couldn't find any hint or sign that there was any portal. No more panels, other than what looked like the inner hull. He wasn't about to try to open that.

Sighing, he crawled out of the duct, stood - and was frozen by the gaze of Yarborg, his manager. Yarborg was a tall, potbellied, bleached-hair and -skin 36 year old man with a boyish face, which belied his generally humorless and indifferent nature. Guilty, Jake announced, "Well, I didn't catch it."

Lifting one eyebrow, Yarborg asked, "Catch what?"

Jake said, "Some kind of rodent, a rat, maybe. I heard it squeaking and saw it go behind those crates and was hoping to catch it. It's unsanitary, you know."

Yarborg, not entirely convinced: "You should have called Grames instead. That's his job, not yours, Jake."

"Oh, okay. You're right."

Mullified, Yarborg unfolded his arms and turned to leave, and then said, "Oh, and by the way, I heard you wanted to take pilot's testing?"

"Yeah, I was thinking of it."

"You shouldn't," Yarborg said, and then proceeded to launch into a small diatribe on why pilots weren't all that great. Jake endured it politely. Yarborg wasn't that fun to hang out with, but at least he wasn't the Rat, he was just opinionated like everybody else.

"..nor do they get laid as much as you might think. Except military ones, of course," the manager finished.

Jake thought, I was considering military testing too, you dumbass. "Good, I don't want to get any diseases," he said, with a grin.

"Yeah," Yarborg said, "Well anyway, you can apply once we get to Mars Orbit. We don't have trainers there, but some Bolden friends do. It'll cost, of course, even if you make it, and you might be able to get a light merchant or small craft rating..."

Jake decided he was through with this conversation, since he was learning nothing new. "Okay, thanks," he said.

Yarborg nodded. "Alright. Well... see you later," he said, and left.

Jake smiled to himself as he left. He hurried to the desk again, proud of his challenge and control of the conversation's ending.

I didn't see any view at all. Just the inner hull.

Vera must have been actually working, for she didn't respond for a few minutes. Jake looked at the crates, knowing he had to restack them. His muscles protested. He found his eyes drooping and decided to take a nap; a tradition of his ever since he was able to get a job.

Boring jobs, boring work. Maybe Bolden Corp isn't for me... maybe, maybe the military...

The office of Julia Bennings
11:43 AM

The sound of a knock at the door distracted Julia from her work. Glancing irritably at the clock, she realised she had a little over fifteen minutes before she needed to break for lunch. "Yes?"

The door opened to reveal a young woman barely out of her teens holding a paper bag. "Mrs. Julia Bennings? You ordered a chicken parmesana from Mario's? I realise I'm a little early, but I had a lucky break in traffic."

Julia frowned. The uniform was right, but she'd never seen the girl at Mario's. "That's Miss Bennings. I didn't order any delivery."

"Really?" The girl frowned and consulted her notepad. "Julia Bennings, 77 Terrace Court, Level 73, southwest corner office. Chicken parmesana, salad with italian dressing, lemon iced tea. Mario threw in a brownie, no charge. Noon delivery."

"Who are you? I've never seen you before."

"I'm Mary. I started at Mario's last month, doing deliveries. Look, if you don't want this, I can take it back. I'm sure he'll understand."

Julia stopped to consider. The smell of the meal had reached her, and her stomach was beginning to growl. It was close enough to lunchtime that she could afford to break a little early. "All right. How much do I owe you?"

"Fifty-two sixty." Mary entered the room fully and set the bag down on the desk. She took a hundred and made change quickly. "Enjoy. I hope you like the brownie. Mario made them special today."

"Thank you." Julia dismissed the girl from her mind and set in to eat. She re-read the report she was writing as she ate, pausing occasionally to make small corrections to clarify what she was trying to say. The meal went quickly, as Mario's dishes always did. Then she opened the container for the brownie.

On top of the sugar powdered confection was a narrow strip of paper.

You have friends who want what you want.
She stared. Friends? What does this mean?

She found she wasn't hungry for dessert.

Vrakian Embassy
New State City, Santa Barbara

Like all embassies, this one had a full contigent of intelligence staff that monitored daily events in the host country. Not that this was such an offence, since everyone knew that this is how the game was played. It was just considered rude to publically say anything or even at a social gathering. After all, Vrak did have a close partnership with Disaster Relief Inc through TDP Tech Inc. And lately, a number of megafactories have been purchased. Not to mention quite a few Bolden Corp space ships leased out to Hyperion Transport Systems. But keeping tabs on current events of even allies is necessary. Especially when fresh new winds are blowing, bringing with them...uncertainty.

-Did you see the decrees issued by the TNE?
-Indeed. They command the ITDO now.
-By Bok’s maw! The implications of this? Who is running the TNE?
-Well, Abadas is the current CoFedCo president…

The desk shook as a huge flipper thumped it.

-Dammit! I want this figured out. Give me a prelim intel report within the hour. I have to contact Abadas himself.
-As you command.

OOC: Sorry Santa. I forgot your capital. Whoops!

ooc: very interesting indeed. Just so you know I'm curently reading this. I'll find something meaningful to say when I have more time.

The Mars Duma
1:25 PM Mars Time. Friday.

Buelo stood tall before the assembled delegates. Nevertheless he was visibly tired; working hard, sleeping seldomly. His voice was steady, though by the end his hand shook minutely.

"Nations of Mars, I am Strategic Core Subcommander Buelo, appointed to govern Santa Barbaran Noachia under the authoriatative command of the Corporate Federal Conglomerate. In the past few weeks, the people of Noachia - employees, soldiers, families and churches - implored me to push for Noachian sovereignty, and independence from Santa Barbara. This morning, that issue was voted on by the Trans-National Exchange. It was rejected.

"The right way is not always the easiest way, and when I first accepted my position I had no idea that one day, I would have to make this decision. But years of hard work have reinforced my sense of discipline - and honor.

"Delegates, the Santa Barbaran government often touts it's free market policies in the international scene. We are all aware of the CoFedCo's noble stance against economic control as a means of warfare. Unfortunately, the TNE has disregarded this stance, for Noachia.

"For years, growth in Noachia has been slow. Thousands of acres of land are empty, awaiting colonists or developments that the CoFedCo has not permitted! While millions starve in the cramped cities on Earth, corporations like Cathedral Capital have used the CoFedCo to ensure their monopoly on Noachian territory. Our workers and industries harvest and process immeasurable megatons of various ores, but we are only allowed to ship them directly using ITDO transports, at high cost for low profits, and are not allowed to trade freely as even though we are guaranteed the right in the Knootian International Stability Treaty and the Martian Free Trade Agreement.

"As I speak, the Mars theater ITDO warships of the 2nd Battle Squadron, thirty-seven total, are en route to Mars orbit, with orders to use force to ensure Santa Barbaran oppression of Noachia.

"The people of Noachia are soldiers and families; workers and transients. Our garrison of elite, veteran soldiers, which the CoFedCo saw fit only to awaken from their cryogenic slumber every few years for occasional training exercises, are numerous and well-equipped, but we cannot survive alone.

"I ask you to consider recognition and support of the Corporate Republic of Santa Barbaran Noachia! We, the people, have agreed to the articles of our Constitution - which you will all find uploaded for you to view - even if the TNE - which consists almost entirely of Earth-based polities - has not. We are Martians, and must be allowed to rule ourselves in peace! We stand for free trade, for civil freedoms, and international peace and cooperation; we stand for a terraformed Mars and land and services for the people; we stand for survival; we stand for Mars.

"The era of colonial Noachia has passed. Thank you, thank you all."

Buelo bowed his head briefly as he backed away from the podium.

A Knootian observer in the Duma looked quite schocked, but he did not speak and instead waited in silence for the other members of the Duma to speak up.

((On the Mars boards, I presume?))

OOC: Yup, here is where independence was announced before the Duma (http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=330&view=getnewpost), and here is where the home government is sending its response (http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=332)

New State City
North Westside
HWY 135
June 15, Evening

Traffic was light again. Julia wove her vehicle between lanes with more boldness, more risk today, pushing ahead to the infinite front of the lines.

The day's events had been alarming. She had nearly forgotten the message hidden with the brownie - nearly.

At lunch her chief operations officer, Del Cravey, reported that the CoFedCo main networks had been faulty all morning and getting worse. Not just in the HQ downtown, but throughout the globe and beyond. Communications, databases, access nodes were all affected. So far it wasn't enough to seriously interfere with the governments operations, but it would if it continued to worsen.

All this might have been cause for joy. Abadas's CoFedCo was, after all, little more than the same cronyist extension of the PCC and the Federal Government. She had no love for the Conglomerate.

But such "faults" didn't occur in the top-of-the-line systems affordable by the world's most powerful corporations. They used similar systems as Bennings Enterprises did, for Chrissakes. Someone had to be behind this, and that someone was, as far as she could tell, not necessarily aligned with her or the Market. And it certainly wasn't Abadas.

This whole new threat turned plans upside down. Was her unsafe, already? She'd prepared to move it, the whole thing, offworld. Perhaps it was time to put that plan into action sooner than expected.

She sighed, and cut off an old woman in a gascar. I'll miss all this, she thought.

The van next to hers swerved close. "Hey, watch it, asshole!" she muttered, glaring to the left.

But it swerved again, this time crunching haphazardly against her vehicle before backing off. They were trying to hit her!

She gave her vehicle more power. Hydrogen powered, the engine was smooth, quiet, efficient, and it barely purred as she sped along faster. The other car matched her speed. She moved faster, but unexpectedly she was hit again - this time from behind. She looked in the rearview and saw another large black van on her tail. They were now attempting to force her off.

Goddam.

"Well let's see how you can do for speed," she said aloud, and prepared to test the X9 Venture Supreme's maximum speed.

That was when they shot out both tires with correspondingly loud bangs, and she dangerously skidded off to the side of the roads, braking hard in a cloud of dust.

MSS Nemo
Earth-Mars Transfer
4 hours from Mars Orbit
1:23 PM Mars Time.

Jake Henson didn't have that great a view. The planet ahead, the planet behind, stars around - he was peripherally aware that this was so, but he could see and hear very little of the outside world. To him, the world was as quiet as the Comm 2 department; quiet, boring...

BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP!

The shrillness of the alarm caught his attention like nothing else could, and he felt his neck jab with pain as his back straightened up in startlement. Heart pounding, he looked toward the source of the bleeps.

INCOMING TRANSMISSION - ULTRA PRIORITY - ITDO

"What the hell?" he asked aloud. It had been as if the military was reading his thoughts, his heart's vague wanderings, and then called in to the ship just for him. Nonsense, of course.

He paged Yarborg instantly, twice, because he had never gotten an ULTRA PRIORITY message in the months he'd been in this giant tin can. Never even heard of it. And the military, as far as he knew, had never before taken an interest in the ship, even when it was docked at ex-military OMFs in Earth.

Intrigued, though, he quickly began wiring in to the message itself. It wasn't difficult; while a military encoding itself would be impossible to hack all he had to do was override the Nemo's command authorizations to peak at Management messages. He tried not to do it, since technically it was illegal, but this was just too interesting to wait for Yarborg or, even slower, Tersis.

FROM: SCS VOJSKA, CIC, 2nd BATTLE SQUADRON

Interesting, interesting, Jake thought. He'd read up on the ITDO's space forces, of course - no young man could hardly be restrained from doing so - and knew the 2nd had been assigned to the Mars theater a few years back. It was also the newest battle squadron in the force, and it's ships were advanced and orders of magnitude more powerful than the rest of the OOTG.

Why would they be bothering them?

But then Yarborg logged on, and he had to stop. And wait.

Silence. The world still seemed quiet now, inactive. He burned in frustration.

Hey there's something big going down, they want us to stop Vera messaged to him. Vera! Of course, she was in Comm 1, probably reading over the Manager's shoulder. He responded eagerly.

Just stop on a dime? Do they know wecan'tfuckingdothat?

But more space preceded her next message. Probably but they want us to stop and head back anyway

He shook his head. Rapidly losing patience for the military, and any patriotic feelings he might have had were overwhelmed by anger and incredulity.

Nemo didn't have enough fuel to get back to Earth. What the hell was going on?

We don't have enough FUEL! don't they know wthat?

More silence. He wondered. Maybe it was a mistake, he thought.

Then a second message came. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP! Face scrunched in disbelief he decided to go ahead and try to read the whole thing himself.

New State City
North Westside
HWY 135
June 15, Evening

"Get out of the car!" a voice called from her left. Julia coughed because of the dust, and through it saw a man outfitted in rugged black quasi-military garb. A gun barrel stared down her eyes.

"Do it! NOW!" the man's testosterone could nearly be smelled.

She opened the door with a scrape against the uneven gravel to the side of the highway. Cars sped by at insane speeds, drivers too intent to pause or give notice to the small commotion by the side. Slowing down in Santa Barbara was not a healthful traffic option.

"Alright, turn around! Hands against the vehicle!"

She wondered if she was under arrest. Was this the ending Abadas had in store for her? Arrest, imprisonment, execution? It seemed likely.

Not that it would remove BE's from the TNE, she figured with grim satisfaction. He'd have to arrest everyone in management. There wouldn't be a way to do that quietly enough. But her? Who notices an individual out of a few billion?

She was frisked. As if she packed metal and was about to take them all on, firing in a blaze of bravado.

"Kay, that's enough. Get her in the van," said a young woman, her voice chillingly beautiful, oddly familiar... Julia looked, but the owner of the voice also wore the black outfit, complete with face mask and odd equipment hanging off the slacks.

"What's this about?" she asked the oddly familiar woman.

"Later. In the van, Julia," and with a head motion, the woman signalled to Kay and Julia found herself being pushed from behind. She followed passively and was herded up into the confines of the black van with Kay.

She missed her Venture, though she could easily afford a new one. She had a collection of vintage cassette tapes (Beatles) and a mounted player that she doubted she would ever use again.

Sighing, now slightly cross - kill me, if that's what you're going to do already - she turned to the man called Kay. "Who the hell are you?"

"Now, that's not a very nice tone," he replied at once. She had time to see a sudden motion before the impact of the rifle butt against her head made her world go black.

ITDO-OOTG New State City
23 Minutes to Mars Orbit
June 16, 2:30 AM Mars Time

3rd DBS Commander: Confirmed lock.

SCS Vojska: You are authorized to fire when ready.

3rd DBS Commander: 3rd DBS, confirm last order?

SCS Vojska: We confirm, 3rd DBS. You are go for attack, repeat, go for attack.

There were seventeen vessels currently inbound to Santa Barbaran Noachia. These were filed under 'noncompliant,' for their continued failure to obey the ITDO order to withdraw. Their commanders signalled frantically as death approached, but the order had been given. Command was quite clear about it.

3rd DBS Commander: I... I can't fight these ships, sir, they're our own civilians, too out of fuel.

SCS Vojska: This is SCS Vojska, C-in-C of the 2nd Battle Squadron. I hereby relieve Commander... Adgar of his duties and give immediate command of the 3rd DBS to Commander... Jaswell of the destroyer Amorphous.

Commander Jaswell: Yes, sir.

SCS Vojska: This is SCS Vojska to the 3rd DBS. You are ordered to stop those ships immediately by any possible means!

Jaswell (to 3rd DBS): Inputing new orders. Unknowable, Nettle, Stinger, and Quill, we're forming an attack wing on these vectors. Prepare for squadron fire, 26cm holers.

The MSS Cumbre, an Atlas-class similar to the Nemo, also had failed to comply due to fuel concerns. There simply wasn't enough; they had enough to park in Mars orbit and no more. The ship's commander was named Steven, and he spent his last few moments sending out a distress call to the SBITG. Surely, they would help bring reason to this mess...

Jaswell: Confirmed launch, pull back, pull back!

SCS Vojska (to 1st BCS): This is it, all units prepare for LARV at predesignated coordinates. Confirm synch for OMS...

While the MSS Cumbre, and eight other large freighters were being destroyed, the heavy battlecruisers New State City, Carvajal and Trigo formed an attack wing, targeting a wide array of targets on the planet's surface, passing several of the hit and un-hit merchant vessels very quickly now...

SCS Vojska (to his Commo officer): Buelo accepted the SDS yet?

Commo: No, sir. Nothing. Of course, they may have difficulty getting through the missile jammers...

SCS Vojska: Very well. (To 1st BCS) 1st BCS, confirm synch for OMS, repeat. Confirmed, we are GO for attack, all units fire..

Santa Barbarans killed Santa Barbarans.

MSS Nemo
Mars Orbit
June 16, 3:23 AM Mars Time.


"Oh my god," Vera's voice said, startling him. Confused for a heartbeat, Jake recognized both that it was his old high school friend and that she was using the intercom, despite the regs about that.

"What is-" he began to respond.

"They've blown up! They blew up one of our ships," she said, her words like hammers beating into his previous reality - the boring, but sane world in which the military didn't do barbaric things like blow up merchant vessels. He tried to refuse the change, but he knew she wouldn't use the intercom just to yank his chain.

"They can't do that," he protested. Then, quickly, "What are we doing? Are we next?"

"Tersis is manning the guns! Jake, this is crazy! Oh god, we're in for it..."

"Calm down, Vera. Manning the guns? We don't have any guns!"

"Well that's what he said! He said, 'I'm going to man the guns' and then just took off. Yarborg is trying to tell them we have no fuel to turnaround, but I don't know, they really shot at our own ships..."

His mind was twirling as he tried to accept the sudden craziness of the situation. He decided acceptance was beyond him right now and tried to think of what to do, let alone say. He was not a fast talker.

"They've -they've cut off communications. They just gave another warning, that's three, don't they stop at three? We've - oh - okay, yes, good -" Jake could hear her and Yarborg talking, but couldn't discern any words. Then: "Jake, we're getting off the ship! Get to the pod, you know where it is?"

Her concern was touching. He heard himself say, "Yeah... OK. See you on the surface?"

"Yes. Good luck! Go NOW!" and then the line cut off.

He froze for a moment - but only a moment. Suddenly, it was as if he'd wanted nothing more these past few months than to leave this damned old bucket, as if the fact that it took a few missiles to get him to be able to was just a poetic note for God's amusement. He felt himself spring to action, and thought briefly of any possessions aboard the ship he wanted to keep.

Back when he was young, he'd always been afraid - of water. Well, when you live under a few kilometers of ocean, it's natural. So he always had an escape route planned in his mind growing up, just in case the domes finally gave way, broke, or some other accident. He had a list of items which he'd need to get to first, if he could, to bring with him.

But today, that list was very small. Limited to just what he kept with him at all times anyway - the mandatory PDA, some credit cards, some cash, key and ID cards and other random objects which were of no consequence to someone who's about to get blown up.

So he left his desk, gave a fleeting last glance at Comm 2. At least I don't have to turn out the lights on my way out.

Then he was flying - nearly literally. The Atlas had gravity when accelerating or decelerating, sometimes earth gravity, but more often it was just another tin can in space. Jake had long gotten used to the weightlessness, took to it very naturally, in fact. Another symbol of his destiny, he felt, to be a fighter pilot.

Still want to join the military, Jake?

The escape pod wasn't too far now. His mind coldly wondered how long it'd been since the last warning had been given, and how far death was from taking the entire ship.

And what was Tersis doing anyway? Manning guns they didn't have? Or maybe he'd just gone crazy. Perhaps it was some euphemism for staying on ship while it went down, dying heroically, pathetically uselessly.

Well, whatever. I'm getting off.

The ship now shuddered - the metal all around him rang like a dissonant, omnipresent church bell - and the main lights went out, bathing everything in an eerie red glow.

Better hurry.. he thought now, less coolly.

His arm muscles strained as they clenched and unclenched, his sweaty hands grabbing hold of the transport tube bars and propelling him forward.

The generator began to power up again, as if preparing for a heavy burn. It revved and revved, like some mad engine. He wondered if it was about to explode, in which case it would hardly matter if he got to the escape pod in time or not.

Then the power was released - he nearly felt the electricity in his hair and skin - and the corridors of the mostly empty vessel were filled with a new and distinct sound.

Gunfire!

Plom-plom-plom-plom-plom!

His heart thudded along to the beat. It was close, very close, and it was using the ship's own power. That couldn't be incoming. Tersis evidently had stashed some weaponry on board, and was shooting at the attacking warships. His mind reeled again with the craziness, but inwardly he cheered. Go Tersis!

The escape pod was easy to get into. As he settled into the cramped seat he felt, for the first time, the grip of fear and confusion. This wasn't the first time he'd been inside an escape pod, but now that he was actually needing to use the damn thing the reality of the situation once again hit him.

Where's the damn close button? He nearly panicked before he found it and, pressing it, the hatch closed, sealing him in a tiny metal pod stapled to the ships massive underbelly.

The ship shuddered again, and he waited a second, thinking the launch would go better without the ship jerking about like that. But it didn't stop, and he realized that now was the time to go.

He pressed the escape sequencer.

The pod flung itself off the ship, and Jake Henson no longer shuddered and shook with it. Nor could he hear the steady shots of the whatever-it-is Tersis was manning, or the vibrations of Atlas's massive hull.

He was never cognizant of the ship getting pasted with several dozen 26cm CASCG rounds, holing it, or the rapid and destructive forces which came after and utterly destroyed the merchant ship. All Jake knew of was the giant chunk of metal which, shearing itself off from the burning wreckage, slammed with great violence against the thin hull of the escape pod with all the apparent force of a major earthquake aimed at his heart.

"Thank you for calling Pacific Travel, how may I help you?"

"I'm looking for three week travel package to Tahiti...three adults and one child."

"Let me put you in touch with our Tropical Tours agent. Please hold."

There was a pause.

"This is Jerry. What can I do for you?"

"I'm in desperate need of a vacation. The stress is just too much."

"Let me pull up some numbers for you, then. Where do you want to go?"

"Tahiti."

"How many in your group?"

"Four. Myself, my wife, her sister and our little girl."

"A little girl? That's wonderful, how old is she?"

"She's six, a little terror. Always getting into trouble. Got picked on by a couple of bullies today."

"I'm sorry to hear that. When will you be traveling?"

"As soon as possible, frankly. We really need some time in the sun."

"There's some difficulty with that, I'm afraid. All available flights are booked for the next few days. How about Jamaica? Do you think your little girl would like that?"

"I'm not sure, she's pretty fussy. Do you have anything for Cuba?"

"Hmm...Cuba's pretty expensive, but it is a possibility. Are you sure you want to go there? There's been talk of unrest, and they might issue a travel advisory."

"I've always wanted to go to Cuba. Let me talk it over with the family and we'll get back to you, okay?"

"No problem, just ask for Jerry."

"Thank you."

"Thank you for calling Pacific Travel."

[19:00 hours - Mangalan Fleet put on high alert]

[21:00 - Support frigate IMS TempurPedic dispatched to combat zone to retrieve survivors. Hospital ship IMS Clara Barton standing by.]

[21:30 - Admiral T'krit warns ITDO fleet to stay clear of Mangalan space, refuses to grant clearance for an equitorial orbit which would pass over Mangala]

[22:00 - MNN news crew initiates live feed from orbit, based off of a rented freighter. Video of the engagement is broadcast across Mars]

Her Majesty and Her Majesty's Government stand behind the actions of the Democratic Imperium of Mangala and will support their actions in regards to the crisis of the Noachia blockade. The United Star Empire of Valinon will not allow its economic affairs to be disrupted by a blockade currently under review by the members of the Martian Free Trade Agreement. Her Majesty would also like to encourage the CoFedCo to disband this blockade before it causes further tensions in the region, and further damages the international reputation of the CoFedCo. She also reinterates the willingness of the Star Empire to act as a neutral intermediary between the CoFedCo and the Noachian government in order to reach a more peaceful solution.

Sincerely,
Archduchess Lydia Skye
Her Majesty's Ambassador to the Duma, MIDAS-II, and Ambassador-at-large to Mars

Sol System Task Force put on High Alert by Order of First Star Lady Grossadmiral Dame Katherine Adonis

Mangalan rescue efforts informed that aerospace ports and facilities in Her Majesty's Imperial Dominion of Mizar are open to their use during the rescue operations.

Her Majesty's Imperial Militia Forces and the Empress's First and Only are put on alert in the Dominion of Mizar

Vizeadmiral Sir Virgil Severns, Commander of the Sol System Task Force, announces to the CoFedCo that Valinor aerospace over the Dominion of Mizar is closed to their military forces.

Situation Office of President Heinrid Abadas
New State City, Santa Barbara, Earth

"Situation." He rubs his temples. Wear and tear is evident.

"Good news first," speaks Marcos Fernando.

"Good. Proceed."

"The blockade of Noachia has been entirely successful. No trade or supplies move in or out, and the Mars Fleet has local space superiority."

"And the bad?"

"There's still more good, Lord President. The TNE is in deadlock. Bennings hasn't been entirely successful in whipping them up to a frenzy. They won't be able to come up with a resolution in the near future to block you."

"And the bad?" He was expecting the worst by this point.

Fernando sighed, and shifted the small stack of reports he'd balanced in his lap. "The bad news is the other Martian nations. Buelo's played his cards right; some of the most widespread news services on Mars are telling everybody just what the rebels want them to hear... that the CoFedCo is tyrannical, warlike, cruel, et cetera. A lot of blame is going to Vojska, though."

"That's good. We can sack him and take some of the heat off."

"Yes, but the Noachian question remains... do we continue with orbital strikes. Half of Mars thinks they would destroy the terraforming process and mistakenly obliterate neighboring countries. And there are more than a few foreign nationals residing in Noachian domes."

Abadas thought for a moment. "Advise them to leave."

"Some will refuse."

"Then make it an order. Noachia is still legally part of our nation, and we reserve the right to expel them... for their own good."

"I must express some reservations here, Lord President. The use of orbital weapons to retake the colony will generate massive international unrest. It will be used against your administration in the TNE elections. And even if we managed to eliminate Buelo, there's no indication that his underlings will be prone to do things differently. We already gave them the chance to take command of the colony by getting rid of Buelo, and so far none of them have taken it. It seems unlikely they will change their views after a few rocks are thrown."

"Duly noted, Marcos..." the weariness in his voice is again evident. "But we have so few options. What about the Valinon again? You mentioned that the other day."

"They've offered neutral negotiating ground..."

"Ah, yes. We can't do that, it'll make us look like we're caving in and incourage the rebellion."

"Of course, that was our earlier conclusion as well."

"I need options, Marcos, not conclusions."

"Well, space forces can't retake the colony. I think that's clear. We have ground forces, why not use them?"

Grimace. "We can't mobilize enough, quickly enough. The TNE will be in charge, and Buelo will be gloating, the bastard."

There was some silence that followed before Marcos Fernando offered another option.

"The TNE can't be in charge," he said, "if there is no TNE..."

Somewhere in Santa Barbara

"Julia... Julia... there she is."

Swimming out of nothingness, Julia Bennings suddenly felt an alert and opened her eyes. Bad mistake, she thought, as stabbing pains besieged her head. With her fingers she touched her head, groaning slowly, and felt the large swelling of a bruise.

"Don't touch it... here," a voice said in the darkness. Recognizable...

Then there was a hot towel on her forehead. Dripping water managed down her face and she realized she was quite parched. She tried opening her eyes again, only as much as needed to see.

She was still in the van, and it smelled of her own sweat. Lovely. The woman stood above her, looking at her with slightly concerned expression in her dark eyes.

"I'm sorry about that," the woman said. Again her voice was slightly recognizable, and her face...

"Chang," Julia said as soon as it came to mind.

Sonya Chang smiled wryly. "Well, you know who I am. I was wondering if you still knew who you were."

"I'm not that out of it..." Julia muttered, anger following recognition. She tried to stand.

"Whoa, easy girl," Sonya warned, putting out two wirily strong arms to restrain her. "You might want to just sit for a while."

Julia said nothing, but stopped the attempt to stand. She felt rather unwell. The situation only made it worse. "Not much choice."

Sonya laughed, pleasantly. "We can talk about your choices, if you want. You do have them."

When Julia didn't respond, still sitting mutely, she went on. "And I am sorry about what Kay did to you. I didn't tell him enough about you, and just how much you're needed. And he gets a little overzealous in my defense..."

"He's not the only one," Julia said. "They're going to come looking for me. And they're not a couple of thugs, they're the best, they're-"

But she stopped in her increasingly panicked tirade, as Sonya was laughing. Julia felt rage bubble up inside of her.

"I know all that, Julia," she said with a calm patience. "That's always been the case, it's not an issue."

"What's this about?" Julia loudly said.

Susan Chang pursed her lips for a moment, considering her options. With a grim look she nodded to herself, and then, her steely eyes still locked with Julia's, reached behind her towards the front of the vehicle. Julia, surprised, felt her PDA buzzing with new info. She looked down at the display and watched a twenty second video clip.

"There are more," Chang said. "Want to see?"

"I..." but Julia could not finish her thoughts.

"This is Abadas, Julia. This is the man you've supported all these years. The man I've always hated you for. This is what he is, and what he does. Did you see?"

Julia saw. She knew that the Noachian situation was getting bad, but this was so simple and brutal of him that she had never expected it.

"I've supported the law," she said defiantly. "Not the man, the law. Some damn law and order in this country." Expecting her to disagree, Julia's eyes seemed to challenge Sonya at every step.

"So you have. And that's why I need you. He's a criminal, Julia, by anyone's definition, and the whole world will be dragged to hell if he continues unstopped. I need you to help me stop him and save our country."

The van began to slow, and then stop. The journey seemed to be over.

ITDO-OOTG New State City
Mars Orbit
June 18, 14:20 PM Mars Time

"This waiting is unbearable," complained Commo, shifting in his uncomforting VCM seat.

Vojska nodded, but said nothing. Keeping his mind alert with multiplication exercises, he too felt the mounting pressure.

Below, Mars. Buelo, the rebellion's chosen 'president.' Noachia, the military bases and the few but apparently rebellious colonists.

But he needed authorization to commence bombardment. It was several hours light-speed to Earth, so it would be several hours further before Command sent it's response.

The bridge crew was silent, tense. The battle squadron had been at wartime readiness for days, and it was wearing on morale. Vojska knew some of the crew would be restless merely because of the mission - already a ship commander had been replaced, how many more would follow before Noachia was back in CoFedCo hands? The longer it dragged on, the worse morale would become, and the more difficult the job.

If only he didn't need to wait for authorization...

He shrugged such thoughts off. The punishment would be severe for that much strategic initiative.

"Inbound, ITDO command!" cried Commo, the kid grinning underneath his facemask. "Piping it to you, sir."

Startled, but feeling an inevitable excitement, Lorsa Vojska sat up straighter and immediately pulled the transmitted text from command.


2ND BATTLE SQUADRON TO MAINTAIN PATROLS
INCOMING DIPLOPOD BOUND FOR DUMA; ORBITAL COVER IS TO BE PROVIDED

SCC CHENG

[ACKNOWLEDGE]


He nodded, the feeling of exitement already beginning to sink.

They were going to parlay with the rebellion. Negotiate with terrorists. Noachia would probably gain it's independence, showing the entire ITDO that insurrection would be rewarded by the CoFedCo because it was cheaper than enforcing the law.

Clenching his fist, he felt as if his head was very far away. Commo, asking expectantly about the authentication, fully expecting to relay fleet battle commands. But instead they would be waiting, this time on diplomats, bartering away everything that Santa Barbara stood for...

He realized that he had to take action.

"Yes," he heard himself reply to his subordinate, and he managed a cold grin. "We'll be initiating directed jamming sequences, all HVTs and Noachian EMTs. Keep a note to stay ahead of them... they'll reroute once they know we're using directionals..."

Strategic initiative limits be damned.

[OOC: At this point the blockade hasn't been removed, and Vojska has begun jamming Noachian EM signals. This includes civilian channels too. The New State City has an unspecified amount of satellites and micro-satellites to do this kind of thing, but hasn't deployed those since it's not necessary (having a whole fleet there afterall). You could probably get a message through if you're lucky and got the tech to do it, but Vojska's targeting receivers on the surface with RF; he can do that since he knows where they all are and he knows all their statistics. Well, the ITDO targeting computers know, anyway.

Just a summary. And a bump.]

Across the border from Noachia, in the Dominion of Mizar, the Valinor populace on Mars had grown restless. Numerous messages between Burseg Elgil and Bashar Cirdian, as well as the rest of the Greater Outer Dominion's delegation to the Congress of the Dominions, had flown across Nu-space. The Elvish population in the former Bajoni territory had gained considerable political clout in both Congresses of the Imperial Diet, and the tensions right on their doorstep were having them to use it for the first time since they had become citizens of the Star Empire.
Although Her Majesty, and indeed the majority of the Lords and the Dominions, were not ready to confront the CoFedCo, the outcry of their Martian citizenry had forced them to take some form of action. By order of the Admiralty of Her Majesty's Kriegsmarine, Vizeadmiral Severns had been ordered to take the battleship squadron that was the core of his Sol System Task Force to Mars and prevent the conflict from possibly spilling over into Valinor territory, as wel as to scrutinize the actions of the CoFedCo's forces in orbit. The Ministry of External State Security (ESS) had suspicions of the IDTO commander in the area and expected that a reminder that the Valinor would not tolerate indiscretion on the part of either party. The standing militia of the Dominion of Mizar, along with the renowned "First and Only" Corps of the Reichswehr, were alerted to the possibility of a full blown conflict in Noachia. And six hours after Severns arrived in the Mars system, Burseg Elgil issued the order for a full lockdown on the border with Noachia.
Next, the Star Empire continued to send messages to both the CoFedCo and attempting to contact Noachia, offering its services as an intermediary and a neutral negotiator. But meanwhile, Her Majesty and several of the top officials of the Government were ready to try and establish contact with the Noachia government directly. From the newly established settlement of Nirgal, on the border with the Democratic Imperium of Mangala, three stripped down personnel transports and a trio of Needle aerospace fighters lift off and make for the Noachia border.

**********

At the small Valinor trade litigation to Noachia, The Honorable Herr Mortimer Dravis sits in his office, most of which is already packed into a series of long containers. Her Majesty's First Minister for Foreign Affairs, the Duke Adrian Sterling, had declared that all non-essential materials and personnel in Noachia were to be evacuated to the Dominion of Mizar or one of the treaty ports at once. A convoy would arrive from Mizar to oversee the evacuation. Oberleutant Hendricks, the litigation's security officer, would be in overall command of the evacuation. In the end only Hendricks, a small security squad, and Dravis would be left at the litigation.
A knock comes at the door of Dravis's office, and he sits down the picture of his wife and himself in Agraria two years ago.
"Yes?"
One of the young attaches enters cautiously, "Message from Mizar--the convoy is en route and should arrive within the hour to oversee the evacuation. But there is also an encrypted communique for you, Consul."
Dravis accepts the data disk from the attache, "Thank you, and it might be wise to get ready for the transport."
The young man nods with a weak smile, Dravis waits until he is gone to slide the disk into his comp-pad. He accesses the single text document, the text is brief and of a utilitarian format that shows it was written in great haste.


To: Dravis, Mortimer
From: Sterling, Adrian
Forwarded: Saint-Clarke, Westing, Sheffield Comm Trans-point
Concerning: Shuttle Convoy, Noachia Evacuation

Shuttle convoy personnel includes one Anja Khodorvosky, attached to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. She is under strict orders from the Ministry to seek contact with Mr. Buelo and the rest of the Noachian government. Remaining personnel in Noachia are to render her full assistance as able, and respect discretionary powers granted to her via MFA General Order 334-A. Final evacuation of Noachia will be completed upon return report from Frau Khodorvosky.


Dravis sets the comp-pad down with a heavy sigh and rubs his temples. Truly this whole matter is becoming very, very complex.

**********

The Valinor aerospace convoy approaches the 200 kilometer mark from the Mizar/Noachia border. A message goes out across all channels.
"CoFedCo commander, this is Leutnant Proctor of Her Majesty's Reichswehr commanding Noachia evacuation convoy. I am requesting permission for shuttles to proceed into Noachia and land at Her Majesty's trade litigation in order to begin evacuation of Valinor civilian personnel."

---------------
Mars orbit
---------------
Knootian traffic continued as normal, and there was no indication of the Knootian Defence Force intervening in any way.

((OOC: Just as a reference that I am only ICly doing nothing for obvious reasons, still interested in reading the RP))

The Valinor aerospace convoy approaches the 200 kilometer mark from the Mizar/Noachia border. A message goes out across all channels.
"CoFedCo commander, this is Leutnant Proctor of Her Majesty's Reichswehr commanding Noachia evacuation convoy. I am requesting permission for shuttles to proceed into Noachia and land at Her Majesty's trade litigation in order to begin evacuation of Valinor civilian personnel."

Peripheral high-sensitivity receivers on the ground manage to pick up a broken message from Harport Crater, Noachia. There is no encryption. Enormous amounts of focused electromagnetic radiation cause static on all non-land-based communications in and out of the wayward Santa Barbaran colony. The sender of the message is unknown.

"...send... through the... repeat... Noachia requests... convoy... evacuation heavy interference... orbital strike thought iminent... accept offer of... Noachia requests..."

The interference, far from being random, appears to latch onto the transmission. The message ceases.

[OOC: I was gonna make a whole new thread for this but that confused me with its needlessness. Anyway, for this next bit you can assume to know that SOMETHING big is going on, involving the CoFedCo HQ, but you wont have a transcription or recording of the meeting - although such meeetings are usually recorded live simply because every attendant comes dressed with recording devices - this time is special. Suffice it to say there are no public cameras sending realtime recordings of the meeting out to the world.]

CoFedCo Headquarters Office
New State City, Santa Barbara
Early Morning

They are gathered in one of the many large rooms, some seated at and some standing near the great curved marble table which stretched the length of the room. On one side, one-way windows beheld the stunning view of the business district, with immense, wet towers stood out of the all-encompassing fog and smoke. The sun was in the east, and this side of the HQ office building shadowed all in sight from the windows, and the pale grayness outside was half-lit, twilight.

At the table are Ron Zhou, Enrique Alvarez, Jenna Timothy, Grom Johnson, among dozens of other assorted lesser executives of the CoFedCo. Although part and parcel of the government, rarely did Abadas assemble them all in one place since the dissolution of the previous Conglomerate - of which most present were also ranking members.

They were bored, but alert. Many were on the Trans-National Exchange and had voted against Abadas's interests and policies, including the recent measure which had placed the ITDO under the authority of the TNE, practically rendering the former Pratt henchman impotent. Some were nervous because of what Abadas might do - an irrational fear, because, of course, only conspiracy nuts believed he enforced his rule with violence or murder. Irrational, but present, and stale.

He walked in with a flourish. The Lord President seems changed from his last appearance, stronger somehow in a hard to define way. His face no longer seemed to reflect brooding and worry.

He set a dark leather briefcase on the marble surface with a declaritive thump.

"Good morning.

"Hmm, it seems not everyone has had the opportunity to make it in time. We'll have to start without them. Everyone, give warm welcome to our guests here at the HQ, some of you may already be acquainted. They are here because the nation is entering a rough period, and we need the ears and voice of all such influential and sensible managers. The Conglomerate needs nothing less.

"Before we proceed, let me recapitulate the crisis opposing us. First, and foremost, of course, the situation on Mars. Part of the problem is commander Buelo's rebellion, and his unwillingness so far to negotiate. Although the forces under his sway are strong, they're militarily insignificant compared to the main body of our forces. I'm sure we've all heard a lot about Noachia recently, and so I don't have to go into more details there.

"The bigger issue is the international aid the traitor may rally to his cause, or more specifically towards war with Santa Barbara. A greater external conflict such as that facing us could prevent us from focusing on the more pertinent internal matters.

"Which brings me to the second great threat to the security of the state, of which Buelo is only a symptom. Divisiveness. Treason. Power struggles. I have learned hard lessons in my life, and one of them is one can only go so far with charity.

"To be charitable may be virtuous, but the more you give, the more others will take. It becomes a kind of addiction, in the sense that parasitism is an addiction. If, for example, you give some spare change to a homeless man, he will accept and appreciate it. Then he may ask for more, the next day - to get to the bus stop, or towards sending his friend to rehab. Or he may simply wait, expectantly, his hand outstretched toward you and his eyes full of plea. When, if, you can avoid him, or learn to firmly say no, you will be rewarded with mute indignance, anger perhaps, in the hopes of making you feel guilty. And who can avoid feeling guilty in this instance - for the Bible tells us to be giving of oneself.

"So, like leeches, takers demand more and more, up to and beyond the limits of feasibility. It's like spoiling a child by giving him all liberties and lenience, versus teaching him discipline and the knowledge of his own limits. No one wants to, or should, give in to such situations."

He stopped for a moment. After his initial introduction, his audience had been silent. It was hard to say what most were thinking, and Jenna Timothy and some others narrowed their eyes in confusion or bafflement. He lifted a glass of water from the head of the table before him, taking a quick drink and setting it back down. Then he fixed his darkly handsome eyes coldly on no one in particular.

"Which brings me to all of you."

Before he could go on, a brown haired aide, who had quietly entered the room and stood waiting along the wall behind the President, whispered urgently into his left ear.

Color seemed to drain from his face.

For a moment, under hushed murmurs from the body of people before him, he seemed torn between leaving quickly and staying. Then something in him solidified and he regained his composure. All of this took perhaps one minute.

He continued as if without interruption.

"Which brings me to all of you.

"Under Federal Code 23- excuse me, CoFedCo Authority Codes 9 section 3 - the Trans-National Exchange, or any other legislative body, would be acting out of it's authority to threaten the security of the Nation."

He opened the briefcase, and lifted out several manila folders and stacks of files.

"I have here more than enough legal documentation confirming that TNE Decree 6-A, which placed ITDO command under the TNE, threatened the Nation by questioning and bypassing the ITDO chain of command. While under CoFedCo laws the punishment is mere reversal of that decree..."

Several of the attendants had gotten up and left by now. Grom Johnson, among others, shifted with obvious nervousness. The ones that remained took solace and protection in that the meeting was being recorded by thousands of receivers at once.

"... under ITDO Special Governance codes, established prior to the CoFedCo itself, the TNE actions qualify as treason. But how to punish such an expansive, democratic body? Should there be punishment at all?"

He sighed, and looked down. Suddenly his old, brooding demeanor seemed to settle in again.

Then he looked up, and his eyes shown brightly with something oddly recognizable, fleeting, hard to grasp. "Yes.

"Careful analysis of the situation has shown that the decision, the movement and main effort to unseat this Presidency and usurp command of the nation's premier defense forces, was not the result and responsibility of the full body of the TNE, many of whose members abstained. No, rather, certain key individuals intended this treason, and were responsible for getting it carried so far.

"Those individuals are present here."

On cue, the doors opened. Into the room came uniformed (though not National Police uniforms) and armed guards. Some were plainclothed, or whose uniforms had no identifiable insignia. An officer among them walked directly to Abadas and spoke with him in hushed tones.

By now the crowd's nervousness was rapidly approaching panic, for now it was clear that not every CoFedCo counsellor had made it to the meeting - the ones who either escaped, or who Abadas counted among his pawns.

"Everyone... silence!" he commanded, and his voice was powerful, and fear now gave it a respect. "Thank you. As I was saying, it is unfortunate to have to take these steps..."

They were starting to interrupt again. Jenna Timothy was trying to get his attention desperately, but he had been ignoring the attempt completely. Now he repeated his command for silence, this time softer. The quiet of his voice forced them to listen.

"..but these steps are necessary both to our national security and to uphold the laws of the land.

"As of now you are all under arrest for treason, and regardless of the outcome your positions in the CoFedCo are forfeit."

He would have gone on, but the guards began to move on the crowd, subduing members who now shouted Abadas's name, in vain; pleading for mercy, challenges and oaths sworn. Cuffs were locked, and at the street below armed transports waited to carry them off to their destiny.

Lord President Abadas exited the bedlam of the office.

The intercepted fragments of the message from Harport Crater makes its way rapidly through the ranks of the Star Empire's government. Before an hour has passed, a Nu-space conference has been called by Empress Friedelinde Alderman herself. Burseg Elgil of Mizar, Archduchess Skye, Generalmajor Ehrhart, Vizeadmiral Severn, Duke Adrian Sterling, and Lady Diedre Rolt are all in attendance along with the Empress of the Valinor. They sit in a live-feed of Friedelinde's "working" study in the Imperial Palace. The night skyline of New Koln shines golden in the blue-black of a Proxima night, the larger moon of Eurytion a thin crescent on the horizon.
"By now you have all read what text can be gleaned from the message from Noachia. It appears the situation there is rapidly taking a turn for the worse. And I cannot tolerate the extreme of actions that is now being moved toward," Friedelinde Alderman says in weary tones.
"Generalmajor Ehrhart, has Leutnant Proctor started the evacuation our nationals and the non-essential litigation staff?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. One transport has already made a successful run to Zale, and is en route for a second load at the litigation compound. We intend to run the transports until the evacuation is completed. If need be another four transports are on stand-by at Nirgal to assist."
"We will most likely need those transports shortly, Generalmajor. Diedre, how are the Lords taking this news. I am sure the rumors are already abounding."
"The Greater Outer Dominion's representatives are in an outright uproar, they are demanding action. Many in the Greater Raumreich Party and my own are hinting at supporting action as well. They might not be willing to act blatantly quite yet, but they are willing to stand back and allow you to take whatever action you feel is appropriate Your Majesty. Even the Centrists are starting to support action, but they want Noachia to become a protectorate state."
"Which is a wholly unacceptable option," Friedelinde says in cold tones. "We need more territory on Mars like the deserts of Proxima III need sand. But being able to move due to salutory neglect works for this purpose just fine. Adrian?"
"Your Majesty?" says the young Duke Sterling, now First Minister for Foreign Affairs.
"Has Frau Khodorvosky taken any action yet?"
"No, Your Majesty. After receiving this latest report I sent a dispatch telling her to stay at the litigation awaiting further instruction."
"Good. For starters, Adrian, she is to make contact with Sub Commander Buelo and as many of the members of the Noachian 'government' as possible. We will offer any of them that wish it sanctuary in Mizar, or if they have family members they wish to see granted safe haven we can take care of that as well. Secondly, any Noachians who can cross the border into Mizar will be granted refugee status. Finally, Adrian, draft a message to Lord President Abadas. Express to him once again we will serve as mediators and a neutral negotiating ground--I will even contact Buelo myself if at all possibe. But also impress upon him that we will not tolerate any bombardment of the Martian surface and are willing to take action against the CoFedCo if it decides to take such a path."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Burseg Elgil?"
"Your Majesty," the elf governor says with a respectful nod.
"Have the Nirgal Guard reopen the border with Noachia, and dispatch appropriate units to establish refugee facilities at Zale and along the borderlands. I will call for additional relief supplies to be brought in from Sheffield and Agraria."
"At once."
"Archduchess Skye, be ready to make our case before the Duma if necessary. Also keep a careful watch on the position of the other nations near the Hellas Sea, especially those of Mangala, Eniqcir, and Auman. I sincerely doubt we will be alone in our position in supporting Buelo's supposed 'mutiny,' but it is best to be overly vigilent than to regret having not watched all possible avenues. Vizeadmiral Severn, you have my leave to move all of the Kriegsmarine forces present in the Mars planetary system to secure the Mizar aerospace zone. Move the bulk of your command closer to the Noachia/Mizar border. Let us have the IDTO know we are watching them carefully. Any further orders will come from myself or from Dame Adonis."
The Valinor ambassador to Mars and the fleet commander of Sol nod their assent.
"Lastly, be prepared for the unexpected. The situation is fluid and we must work to try and control this madness as much as possible," the conference dissolves.

**********

Working from the small, and now quite crowded, litigation in Noachia, Anja Khodorvosky uses contacts provided by the Ministry of External State Security to try and get a message to the Noachian government.

To: Sub-Commander Buelo
From: Anja Khodorvosky, Envoy of Her Majesty Empress Friedelinde Alderman I of the United Star Empire of Valinon
Concerning: The Situation in Noachia

The situation in Noachia is becoming a matter of great concern to Her Majesty and Her Majesty's Government. Although the Star Empire is not as of yet willing to enter into military conflict with the CoFedCo, the possibility of supporting the Noachian independence movement is not beyond our capacity.
Her Majesty would beseech you a final time to use the Star Empire as a neutral party to attempt and resolve this matter through negotiation with the CoFedCo. The negotiations can take place in Mizar, Agraria, or Sheffield and we can use our communications lines with our litigation to keep you and your chosen representatives to any conference connected at all times.
Finally, the Star Empire is willing to grant all Noachian nationals that wish it sanctuary. Those that can make their way to either our litigation or cross the border into the Dominion of Mizar will be given safe haven and protected with the full might of the Star Empire. Her Majesty realizes that your worthy principles and convictions may serve to bind you to Noachia, but we will be more than willing to secure the safety of the families of the leaders of Noachia even if you and the other leaders of the movement do not wish to flee Noachia as of yet.
Please consider this offer as made in good faith and of good intentions. If there are additional questions you may contact me at the litigation.

**********

To: The Most Honorable Lord President Abadas of the Corporate Federal Conglomerate
From: Duke Adrian Sterling, First Minister for Her Majesty's Foreign Affairs
Concerning: The Situation in Noachia

The crisis in Noachia is rapidly becoming a matter which Her Majesty and Her Majesty's Government feel they can no longer ignore. We once again offer our services as a neutral third party negotiator and to serve as a neutral meeting ground for representatives of the CoFedCo and the Noachian movement being led by Sub-Commander Buelo. We are seeking to make contact with Herr Buelo and convince him to see reason, and we hope that the CoFedCo will do the same.
However, the Star Empire remains concerned over increasingly alarming reports that their maybe an orbital bombardment of Noachia. This is wholly unacceptable to the interests of the Star Empire, and is a detriment to the cause of security and stability on Mars. If this brash course of action is pursued, the Star Empire will have no choice but to take action against the CoFedCo.
Her Majesty and Her Majesty's Government will await your response.

**********

Vizeadmiral Severn rapidly gathers the forces of the Sol System Task Force present in the Mars planetary system. Under his personal command from the flagship Protector, Battleship Squadron I, Carrier Task Force I, and Cruiser Task Force 2 of the SSTF rendezvous and set a course over Mizar that will have the fleet deployed to secure the aerospace over the Mizar/Noachia border. Moves to decelerate, the HMS Tiger's Claw and the HMS Protector release two flights of Ferret-class reconnaisance drone fighters. The agile dependents of the ships' AIs move rapidly beyond the periphery of the SSTF detachment and engage their formidable EW and ECM suites. Finally they bring up their sensors and visual links and feed information back to Severn's force on the CoFedCo armada orbiting over Noachia. It is clearly a stand-off, the Kriegsmarine's Sol System Task Force making the point clear that they are watching the actions of the CoFedCo over Mars.

Sol System Task Force Detachment

Battleship Squadron I
Commander: Vizeadmiral Virgil Severns
Flagship: HMS Protector
Ships:
8 Resolution-class battleships
2 Zilpha-class electronic warfare support ships

Carrier Task Force I
Commander: Flottenkapitan Andrea Hauptmann
Flagship: HMS Tiger's Claw
Ships:
1 Enigma-class carrier
3 Lion-class frigate escorts
4 Romanov-class destroyers
1 Zlipha-class electronic warfare support ship

Cruiser Task Force II
Commander: Flottenkapitan Grigory Orleg
Flagship: HMS Warlock
Ships:
4 Prince Viktor-class heavy cruisers
3 Lion-class frigate escorts
8 Romanov-class destroyers

[gnet.622350.35146][beginlink-useraccess???-override]

There are but Four Rights.

The CoFedCo denies us them all.

As I'm posting this the orbital fleet over Mars has begun bombarding the Noachian Resistance, without provokation.

First we heard rumors, then we saw the lengths to which a bloody tyrant will go.

Now, the rumor is that the TNE is in deadlock, and upstanding corporations are being violently suppressed so that they cannot continue to use the Market to embody the Sentients. Will this rumor prove true? I hope not, but we now know that such lengths are not further than Emperor Abadas would go to preserve his dominion.

And all the while, his artificial political monopoly strives to win a marketing war for our minds, bombarding us with lies, praising the value of Free Trade while enforcing an illegal blockade!

The facts have begun to speak for themselves, so loudly that no amount of CoFedCo controls can silence the truth.

THE MARKET MUST BE LIBERATED.

[linkterminated-useraccessterminated]

"Then let's do it, by God."

"Full order mobilization, yes sir."

Buelo swallowed hard after seeing Cholsky, the head of the armed forces (after himself) out of the office.

There was no going back now. There never had been, really.

Ten army groups, over a million servicemen, would stand ready to defend the Corporate Republic. But for all those troops, for the ranks upon ranks of veteran infantry, it was a veritable mirage of power.

As a soldier, his mind railed against that thought. But as a general, a politician and now President (he still could not quite stomach the title), the logistics of the situation did not favor the rebellion and he knew it. Because of the "freezing" of the Frozen Infantry, many more soldiers could be ready to fight at any given moment than if they had been unfrozen.

He'd never gone through the process himself, but he was aware of the vital statistics about average recovery and thawing times associated with the cryogenic process. A process which was infinitely cheaper to maintain than an active, training, complaining soldier during peacetime, and which eliminated the need for constant "hygiene" training.

A great wave of troops sat at his command, ready to be unleashed within hours.

Equipment was another story. Noachia was designed as a fortress, but the later installations and improvements promised in the initial setup never came. It was decided an unnecessary risk, a redundant one, to deploy large numbers of anti-orbital defenses. The interplanetary fleets, after all, were more than enough to handle enemies in the air and space.

Now those fleets were the enemy. To Buelo, he had always considered them so anyway. The haughty fleet commanders cared and new nothing of war; they were budget sinks, toys, they had never fought wars, only embarassing turkey shoots against nearly helpless foes.

Buelo didn't intend to be as nearly helpless.

"Mr. President?"

The secretary's face appeared from behind the door.

"Yes, Lucy."

"The Duma is waiting."

"Okay, Lucy. Oh, and arrange to have the Valinon representative - what was her name?"

"Anja Khodorvosky, sir."

"Right. Get a letter to her, we accept the Star Empire's proposals of aid should it come down to that. However, we're not going to run with our tails tucked behind our legs. We're not afraid of the CoFedCo fleets, and neither should they be - tell them we'll even provide schematics on their capabilities, tactics, whatever they want to know - but that we need their help, dammit! And have someone put all that in better words. Actually, nevermind that, have the operators try to put me in touch with their government directly after the Duma presentation."

"So you want the letter at all, just in case direct transmission isn't possible?"

"Yeah, might as well go ahead and do that just in case."

"Yes sir. Anything else?"

"No, thanks." Buelo smiled, more to comfort the young woman who now looked to him for leadership than as a sign of any confidence or optimism.

He faced the holographic transmitter. The Duma was his main voice of hope now, and he would have preferred to go there in person again. But there just wasn't time for that, and he hoped the urgency and desperation would not compell the other nations of Mars to turn aside.

"We'll have you on in just a jiffy, Mr President," the voice of the computer said, comfortingly, while it's vast quantum communications networks battled the orbital jammers in an endless game of cat-and-mouse, and awaited the right moment, to use precious minutes of free air-time to speak to the Red Planet.

OOC: Santa Barbara, I have not forgotten this thread, but I will be out of town until Monday. So I will try and post either Monday evening or sometime Tuesday. Just wanted to make sure you didn't think I had disappeared.

[OOC: Posted on the Mars thread as well. Valinon; thats okay, whatever works.]

"Marcos, this has gotten entirely out of control."

"Yes, Lord President."

"I want that man arrested, and no less."

"Yes, Lord President. There's only two problems. One, overcoming the jamming sequences he's initiated. Because of that, it's likely Noachia is even more in the dark than we are, and getting through to the Mars Fleet -"

"Yes, yes, I'm aware of all that. And the second problem?"

"Well, it seems that word has gotten out about the... maneuver the other day. Despite our best efforts, there are even vids of you on g-net. That, combined with the Noachian rebellion, and Vojska's foolishness, and the rise of this 'Order of the Invisible Hand' anarcho-capitalism..."

"...yes? So, there will be riots. We can handle those, at least."

"I'm afraid it's a little more than riots, Lord President. Nineteen of our largest cities are having unrest. Word has also gotten out that one or more alien fleets are attacking Mars, Earth - the whole system, and that the Mars fleet as well as the colony have broken away. The other execs know this - the ones we don't currently have arrested - and each problem continues to exacerbate the others."

"We will calm the mobs, and pull out of that Seraphim business. Once we solve that first problem you mentioned - and it will be solved, yes?"

"I hope so, my lord, but that's-"

"Then we will pull the fleet back, message each ship individually if you have to, and once the aliens have been wiped out, reclaim Noachia."

"Lord President, I might agree on the wisdom of that, but it's a question of national security. We cannot declare martial law any more than we have. Half our standing ITDO forces on the mainland are patrolling the streets. And the other half is a hotbed of revolt, just like the TNE."

"What is this, Marcos Fernando? What are you telling me?"

"The situation has progressed beyond the point where I can acknowledge this administration to be in command of the ITDO."

"WHAT? I am the ITDO, and whoever doubts that-"

"There are millions who do doubt it, Lord President. I know you would have their heads for it, but now that course of action is too much of what we cannot afford. I have tried, in vain, to swerve you in the past from destructive policies, but you have become increasingly autocratic, and the nation has suffered immensely. Heinrid, I am loyal to you. I consider myself priveledged to be your friend. But now the TNE reversal, which we have tried to implement, has not gone through, and the ITDO is torn between two masters at a time when the security of the nation, the people, the system most desperately calls for unified response.

"And I will give that response."

"Marcos, you - I may forgive you your words - "

"I do not forgive myself for letting things go so far. Heinrid, your disease is spreading. Yes, the one from Anonymous Lepers. Only it's spreading in humans, while who knows if the elves are even affected? There are so few of them, and we have unleashed a disease beyond the ability of our science to control on our own entire population. I can only hope that I have enough time to change things before, ultimately, I too will be removed from power.

"And now, Lord President, I ask you to step down from your office."

Virgil Severn steps out onto the flag bridge of the HMS Protector as a general alert is sounded across the battleship. As he enters he is rapidly approached by Korvettenkapitan Cedric Kipling, his chief of staff.

"The CoFedCo fleet over Noachia is on the move, Admiral," he hands Severn a comp-pad. "Movements and acceleration--along with power spikes in the last few minutes--match almost perfectly with the IDTO's order of battle concerning an orbital strike against terrestrial targets."

Severn absorb the data quickly, the moves toward the admiral's station and the tactical hub centered on the chair that can move around the vast holotank that dominates the flag bridge.

"Do we have any word from the Noachian high command, or government, or whatever they are calling themselves?"

"They are offering tactical and capabilities information on the IDTO fleet. Also, they established a link to the Duma before it was cut off by IDTO jamming."

"Get a message through to the Noachians, tell them I want a full data dump that is as complete as they can make it. And also tell them that we are moving to attempt to intercept the orbital bombardment."

"Yes, Sir."

"TacCom?"

"Aye, Sir?"

"Give the order, all task force assets in the Mars planetary system are to go to red alert, sound general quarters, and assume battle stations. Send a message to BatCru Task Force One as well, I want them on a return vector from the Mid-System as soon as possible. Konteradmiral Dunbarger is authorized to use an intra-system jump if the situation on Mars starts to turn severe."

"Aye, Sir."

Severn turns his attention back to the tactical projection, showing a flurry of activity from the IDTO task force--currently detailed with blue auroras--over Noachia, directly ahead of the SSTF elements at Mars. A sudden flurry of green signatures erupts from Southern Mizar on the planetary hologram.

"Message from Kapitan Vatta on the bridge, Admiral. Generalmajor Ehrhart is mobilizing two heavy battlegroups from the Kohlar Installation to move to the Mizar border with Noachia. Flight plan has been entered in."

Severn nods, "Do we have a definite estimate on how long until the IDTO begins firing sequence?"

"No definitive estimate, Admiral," says one of the flag bridge's analysts. "But CIC has said that they expect the IDTO fleet to open fire in ten to fifteen minutes. Also would like the Admiral to note they believe that estimate is generous."

Severen puts a hand to his chin, eyes half-closed in thought.

"Fleet is to begin deploying DOS drones and have a DOS network deployed in no more than three minutes. Have Flottenkapitan Hauptmann deploy three squadrons of Precentor drones and have BatShipRon I's Zilphias deploy a full wave of Mobile LRES drones and set them for maximum acceleration toward the CoFedCo fleet. Drones are to stop acceleration and enter stable position two thousand kilometers from the outer fringes of the CoFedCo formation. Also designate IDTO operational force over Noachia as hostile Force Alpha."

A new red aurora suddenly replaces the blue one that had wreathed the IDTO ships earlier.

"Get me Kapitan Vatta, please."

A heartbeat later, the image of Kapitan zur Sternen Josephine Vatta appears. Vatta is the kapitan of the Protector, Severn's flag kapitan and his immediate tactical sub-ordinate.

"Admiral," she says with cool confidence.

"Ms. Vatta, I want a full deployment launcher of our DOS drones used to cover the LRES drones being deployed as our advanced force. Also, scramble all our parasite combat drone compliment."

"Yes, Admiral."

Severn watches as a new flurry of activity erupts from his own command. Agile, thin crosses of DOS drones erupt from warships, carrying their formidable anti-missile/projectile weaponry. More powerful Mobile Long-Range Engagement System (LRES) drones, thirty-one total, sweep out beyond the fleet, rapidly approaching the IDTO warships.

"Give me an open channel, Comm."

"Done, Admiral. Ready to activate through your station.

"IDTO fleet commander," Severn says, "this is Vizeadmiral Virgil Severn of Her Majesty's Kriegsmarine, commanding the Sol System Task Force. The United Star Empire of Valinon will not tolerate the orbital bombardment of Mars. On the orders of the Star Lords of the Admiralty and Her Imperial Majesty Empress Friedelinde Alderman I, I am obligated to intercept and destroy any and all projectiles that are fired with their target being anywhere on the Martian surface. You have three minutes to issue a response."

(from NRC Handelsblad)

Knootian/Sunset stockholder conglomerate takes over Cathedral Capital as interplanetary stock markets take a deep dive

SANTA BARBARA - Cathedral Capital, which is the second largest Santa Barbaran megacorporation on the Trans-National Exchange, has been taken over by a foreign shareholder conglomerate this morning hours after the news broke of an invasion of a swarm of combat creatures of extragalactic landing in Santa Barbaran Noachia (see page 1-3) This news, in addition to the chaotic domestic situation at home and the news of the arrest of corporate management, sent share prices of C.C. down. In the ensuing dip the conglomerate stepped in to offer prices averaging on 20% above par, which was eagerly endorsed by smaller owners after all the main owners chose to sell as the stockboards went into deep red.

The conglomerate is led by two corporations: GRE-D Holdings from Sunset and the Knootoss-based multinational Pink Bunny Cola Incorporated. The Knootian Instituut Zorgverzekering Ambtenaren – a Knootian government-controlled pension and healthcare fund for Civil Servants – jumped in at the last moment to provide additional capital for the takeover.

Cathedral Capital had up till now been run by President Abadas, and this may have encouraged major shareholders to agree to sell their share. One stockholder commented on condition of anonymity: “Abadas is more involved in running the nation than the company, which influences its performance negatively. Also, the President has become more authoritarian and has been dragging the country towards war. Being associated with Capital Cathedral may become dangerous in the future. This offer was more then reasonable.”

It is as yet unclear what the new owners will do with the huge company now in their possession. Capital Cathedral still has a vote on the TNE which means that the new owners have the ability to propose TNE Decrees and influence other SB megacorporations – including those still part of the CoFedCo. The reaction back home has been mixed: on the Amsterdam Exchange (AEX) Pink Bunny Cola shares fell by a whopping 4,34% - slightly more then the average drop – but like all Knootian corporations it is still heavily fluctuating heavily pending news reports on the engagement with the Hive on Mars.

---

((OOC: I’m assuming your stock market is going down… correct me if I’m wrong but it seemed like a logical inference. If anything else is wrong with this post, I’ll edit.))

Mars Orbit

The commander of the ITDO Mars Fleet snarled in disbelief. First the aliens began to grow out of the ground. Now they continued to approach, in orbit, seemingly more concerned with the 2nd Battle Squadron than the ravenous... deliciously ravenous, beasts below.

The entire fleet registered the incoming drones. He continued to stare in disbelief, at the audacity of the Valinese. To come so close!

Every point defense coordinator in the fleet was snapped up to full alertness.

Vojska ordered the 3rd DBS to situate themselves between the rest of the fleet and the approaching Valinon vessels. Quickly, the 11 smallest escorts did a powered about-face. Four of these were Sword of Damocles class frigates, operating dense fusion plasma drives, but the rest, even the corvettes, were propelled by the manipulation of gravity. Nonetheless, these did not speed past the others, and instead they formed a dispersed, slow yet menacing screen.

Grudgingly, 5 destroyers of the battle squadron followed their escorts, turning from the destruction on Mars and also powering point defense and energy weaponry.

He had no desire, yet, to shoot at the colony. From what he had been observing, it might not be necessary.

Had he chosen so, he knew the Valinon threats could not be enforced. The varied warships of the Santa Barbaran fleet all had one thing in common; the overriding strategic policy of point-defense and attack. Though the Mars Fleet was advanced, (and indeed the ships were constructed by the Order of the Seraphim instead of ITDO subcorps), the ships had largely not lost this key aspect.

Against planetary targets, the massive, rapid-fire volleys would prove too much for any conceivable defenses. Against fleets, the heavy kinetic slugs were somewhat less effective, especially at longer ranges.

Vojska ordered the entire fleet to concentrate on heavy energy weapons, when and if the Valinon vessels broke the peace.

But he himself, turning his ship away from the point of ground-observation (the carnage was recorded in the other ships' sensors, he told himself in solace), after hearing the Valinon commander's arrogance (surely matching his own), ordered the ship's coilgun systems powered. He watched on the Tactical Map Display as the drones boldly approached within easy range.

He smiled.

New State City
Santa Barbara, Earth

"Get through to them. Vasily, I want you to get through to them, take power from wherever we need it least and pump it into the arrays and get through to them. They do NOT speak for Santa Barbara, or the ITDO!"

Marcos Fernando hung the phone up. Immediately he took a pen and began sketching. Contingencies fell behind due to obvious reasons. Not enough time, not enough... government.

Nombre di Dios! Disasters came from all directions, and now they were not just disasters for him, they were his. How much they destroyed, how much remained behind, now rested on him.

The phone rang again. A minute had almost gone by.

"Yes. Good, report. Uh huh. Uh huh. How many? Let them go. Okay, keep me up to date."

Now the citizens of Santa Barbara were leaving. Not surprising.

This morning, the disease that had been wrought by his own machinations - in the name of Abadas, and for Abadas's crazy schemes, but his machinations at least in good part - had jumped through the Summerland population. Though designed to find and weed out the elves - who would presumably come into contact with them - it hadn't been designed to spread so quickly through the human host. The virologists agreed, insofar as they could discern.

This was no natural virus. No natural virus could possibly have done the job in the first place.

Mutation. It was only a matter of time before it did more than give vague cold-symptoms to the human population, and everyone knew it. Almost a half a thousand small private airspace transports had already taken off, departing the nation for stabler lands.

The solution was a cure for the disease, which, having been manufactured in the first place, could surely be readily available. The Anonymous Lepers representative was in communicado - and they were the only ones who had really known the details of the infernal thing.

He could announce all this to the world, but that would only cause further panic. Abadas would have done it, and then tried to focus the panic into rage, useful rage to stir up recruitment numbers and corporate nationalist support. Abadas was a fool. A mad fool.

Now was not a time for foolish nationalism. That had been a problem all along.

The phone rang again. It was his broker. He knew what he had to say. GFE's stock was plummeting. So be it, then.

For the first time since entering the realm of high politics, Marcos Fernando, age 72, now knew he had purpose with justice.

If only, he thought, there is still enough time.

[Oh you better believe that a TAG's in store]

"No response, Admiral," Severn nods. He watches calmly as the IDTO warships reposition themselves offering better targeting vectors on his command.

"DOS deployment?" Severn.

"Completed, sir. All of our AIs have reported in that the system is fully networked and that are point defenses are enabled."

"Thank you," Severn says.

"Multiple power spikes, Admiral. Santa Barbaran warships powering up coilguns and energy weapons."

Severn continues to look calmly at the display. He has heard tale of the "vaunted" IDTO and its fleets, yet he remains less than impressed with the actual action he has seen from them. But nonetheless, he will not understimate them. Kipling stands next to Severn.

"I have heard a great deal about the IDTO's point defense capabilities," Severn says quietly to Kipling.

"If I may be blunt, Admiral?" Severn motions with his hand for Kipling to continue.

"The Santa Barbarans are still using personnel as the basis of their point defense coordination. They are no match for the AIs we employ with the DOS hardware, and we still have the MDM and the new hull coating they know nothing about. We can repulse most of their attacks easily."

"Perhaps, Mr. Kipling, perhaps. But let us not be so bold yet. I want a squadron of Precentor space superiority interceptor drones outfitted with fusion warheads and the new impeller wedge missiles. If the IDTO commander is stupid enough to fire on Noachia, I want to make sure any projectiles he throws are destroyed."

"Yes, Admiral."

Mars Orbit

"Vizeadmiral Virgil Severn," SCS Vojska replied, once again feeling diplomatic, "perhaps you are unaware of the situation.

"Our colony is under revolt. We have every exclusive right to handle it. You have no basis for being here, and your ships are doing nothing but provoking a perfectly justified response from ours.

"Further, our colony is under invasion. Perhaps you didn't notice that either. Are your orders to prevent Santa Barbara's defense of all it's assets, then, and to prevent Mars itself from defense against alien attack? If so, your orders come from fools, and I incourage you to disobey them. Otherwise, I will have no choice to but to blast your silly little drones out of orbit.

"You have two minutes to withdraw. Vojska out."

He glanced at the latest D&S report. All approaching targets were still locked onto.

[OOC: Val, I dunno where your guys got the info that SB uses humans to coordinate point defenses, but we don't. We've had AIs doing most such tasks for quite a long time. There are people in the loop, but they aren't doing any aiming or tracking, their job is to enable the computer to do so and when. Anyway, I earlier mentioned PD not to talk of my er, vaunted PD, but rather that the strategic goals of the ITDO have always been to overwhelm enemy PD. Just a fair warning. :P]

OOC: My mistake then, SB. The information in the Word .doc notes I maintain on you is either dated, or was inaccurate to begin with, whichever one I don't know for sure. As to "overwhelming" I hate to say it, but that will be hard. The Raumreich neighbors of Valinon--New Ortaga, Vernii, and the WIck--are the reason the DOS network was created and kept being refined. They all use mass tactics, some with ships others with just missiles. And although the DOS network is rapidly making such tactics inefficient, I assure you it is by no means dated or incapable of performing its original function.

Severn's listens calmly to Vojska's tirade, relatively unimpressed by his bluster.

"Admiral, drones are registering numerous target locks. Refining data and possible alternatives now."

"Do we have an estimate on how the drones can fair?"

"AI ComCons all report in that the losses to the drones would be marginal initially, although a few of the locks are critical."

"Unfortunate, but not unexpected," with that Severn reopens the line to Vojska.

"Whatever claims you may make, Sub-Commander, Her Majesty and Her Majesty's government believe the citizens of Noachia have legitmate complaints. Complaints which are being ignored and suppressed by the Corporate Federal Conglomerate's current administration. While we would normally entertain this as sovereign policy, your continuing threats to bombard Noachia make it otherwise."

"However, I am a man of reason, as are most of Her Majesty's officers. The Tyranid threat clearly takes precedence in this case. I am willing to entertain a cessation to this stand-off and make a cooperative defensive effort of Noachia and Mars. But no orbital bombardment, Herr Vojska, and my drones will stay in place to make sure you do not entertain any ideas of it. I believe you will find our experiences with our closer neighbors in the Raumreich have made our skills in stopping horde warfare and mass tactics quite comprehensive. And I will personally testify that next to the Ortagans and the Verniians, many attempts by Solar nations at this seem outright amateur."

[OOC: Well, let's just say the ITDO - 13th most well-funded military in the NS world for a year and a half, ya know - has taken 'swarming fast kinetic volleys' to an entirely new, overkill^2 level and leave it at that. I don't really want to RP a space battle at this point, so we don't need to contest it ICly, or OOCly - and that's probably better for this RP anyway.]

Mars Orbit

Vojska noted coolly the disposition and strength reports.

He realized he could probably make the Valinon fleet pay for their transgressions and cheek. He realized also, that Noachia would not, could not survive this kind of assault.

Especially not with their communications thrashed. Perhaps, he reasoned belatedly, it would have been more scientific to allow them that reprieve, to see if fighting only one enemy - the invading aliens - would render a different outcome. But, it was too late for any reconsiderations, and it was too late for Noachia.

He reached one last time out to the enemy commander. Sweat beaded his upper lip.

"You must think Santa Barbarans stupid, then, if you think I'm going to sit here not 2 kiloklicks from your insufferable drones. I have strict orders about defending my own ships from threats, Admiral. Those are orders I intend to follow!"

He shut off the comm, and angrily checked the DS again. He checked the TDM. Still sitting there. Just a quick blast from point-defenses - at this range significantly less than full power would do it -

- and the cool steel circle of a gun barrel pressed itself hard against Alexander Vojska's temple.

"You had your orders, Subcommander," an steady, barely recognizable voice said from nearby, "and I have mine. Please remove yourself from the command module."

----------------
94 seconds passed.
----------------

The Mars Fleet ceased it's disruption of the communications network of Noachia. Similarly, locks against surface targets were removed from the que. The ships maintained wartime status, from all outside signs, and maintained a wary lock on the Valinon subcrafts which still hovered ominously within point-blank range.

Severn watches with a calm detachment as the situation in Noachia continues to deteriorate. The counters of the Reichswehr's Needler fighters streak on their course to their targets in Noachia, preparing to deliver the first blow against the Tyranid threat that has swept across the struggling Noachian Republic.

Severn looks at the area around the Noachian capital of Harport Crater, still valiantly holding out against the swarming Tyranid tide. But Severn knows that Harport's time as a center of resistance is limited, and that the finite resources of Buelo's command are already dwindled to a point were resistance can be measured in hours or days at best.

"Signal to Harport, Comm. Tight-beam common diplomatic encryption to the remaining personnel at the consulate. Have them relay it to Sub-Commander Buelo. Inform him that I am scrambling two final flights of transports to Noachia. Anyone that can board them will be taken to safety in Mizar."

"Aye, Sir."

"Now get me the Tiger's Claw."

**********

In beseiged Harport, the final stalwart Sardaukar and a handful of diplomats prepare to leave the imperial consulate to Noachia behind. They ready the final bits of records to be transported, and begin to purge the consulates database. Anja Khodorvosky supervises their efforts. A Sardaukar rushes in, and presents her with a comp-pad bearing Severn's message.

"You," she says quickly to one of the remaining attaches. "Get this to the city central building now. Tight-beam transmission. Attach my personal identification codes to it. Then continue with the evacuation."

"Yes, Frau Khodorvosky."

**********


Sub-Commander Buelo,

Your position is rapidly deteriorating. I am dispatching transports to evacuate the remaining personnel at our consulate in Harport, and any remaining civilian and military personnel that wish to leave Noachia. I would strongly recommend that you join any remaining refugees, Sub-Commander. My transports can take you to Mizar where you can rendezvous with the Noachian forces that have already crossed the border. If you can make it to Mizar, I fully believe you can rally the remaining Noachian forces and we can start to launch a cooperative effort to throw the Tyranid horde out of your nation.

Vizeadmiral Virgil Severn


**********

Rapidly moving away from the HMS Tiger's Claw three squadrons of Precentor drones shepard a group of eight heavy transports bound for the secure sector the Reichswehr is attempting to hold around the imperial consulate and a few other city blocks of Harport. The time window for a safe evacuation grows slim with each passing second, and the pilots of the dropships are well aware of this as they descend through the Martian atmosphere.

Left in orbit, a pair of heavy assault shuttles and two additional Precentor squadrons remain. Awaiting the response of Buelo, and ready if necessary to land on top of Harport's administrative building to ferry the reluctant Noachian leader to safety.

[OOC: Crossposted on the Mars forum. Actually I'd like this particular threadline involving Noachia carried out only there, at this address:
http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=424]

Mars Orbit

As if in one motion, the ships of the Mars Fleet rallied, de-targeted all surface-based assets (though keeping a close electronic eye on the masses of nearby warships of Tyranid, Valinon and other Mars national origins) - and intense gravitational readings signalled their impending journey.

They were less than three dozen, hardly a speck in the greater scheme of things (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=379490), but their advanced construction, their massive firepower, their ominous presence over the nightmarish battlefields below - would no longer be available to the rapidly decreasing survivors of Noachia.

Vojska seethed in the detention block of the New State City - helpless, enraged, usurped, and betrayed. Unlike his fellow Santa Barbarans on Mars, though, he didn't face immediate death.

Harport Crater

Private Daisell, or "Diesel" to his buddies - to his dead buddies - was there to receive the message.

He read it with a growing sense of urgency and importance. Were things that bad? Where is the Strategic SubCommander?

He looked around the command tower, again, but it was as vacant as when he had just arrived. Outside, the hideous soundtrack to the tyranid invasion played at full volume, slightly muted through Diesel's enviro-suit.

Desks were overturned. Computer screens flickered. The post had been clearly abandoned, and in haste, but was it orderly? Or did the higher-upps, upon seeing the nightmarish enemy heading straight for them, simply get up and run? Did they decide to die nobly, taking their own lives?

That got him thinking. Perhaps. Perhaps some had gone up.

He responded to the message - a private, replying to a vice admiral - in the waning hope that he was correct, that he wasn't the last one alive in this tower.

Vizeadmiral Virgil Severn,

Your assistance is acknowledged and requested! The remaining officers of my command are assembled at the roof of the Presidential Spire, the tallest in Harport Crater, at the coordinates following.

He couldn't bear to make the lie which seemed to naturally follow his use of "my command" - the signature, the faked mark of SCS Buelo himself. Even though he assumed Buelo, were he here to make the transmission himself, would have done exactly the same.

As soon as he was able to configure the machine to send the message - it wasn't difficult, for whoever had last operated it hadn't bothered to put up the least bit of protection in their departure - he went straight to the nearest emergency staircase heading up. The elevators, he had discovered five flights below, were no longer functioning. It was a small climb to the top for him; Diesel was in excellent shape, for someone who'd spent decades as an ice cube.

He found Buelo at the roof. A small breather unit on his face could not obscure the insignia becoming a SCS of the ITDO. The wind was light, but persistent, and cold.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Hey, hey!"

Buelo turned. A look of absolute despair and confusion was on his face. His eyes did not meet Diesel's.

"Hey, sir! Mister President!"

That seemed to wake him. He turned again, like a child in tantrum, as if to say, leave me alone.

Diesel jogged a few steps toward him.

The edge of the massive building showed the ruin of Harport Crater. Unimaginable hordes seethed below. Diesel found himself helplessly staring, as well. Dear, sweet Jesus, he thought.

He heard a sound of propulsion. Then he remembered! The Valinon transports! Prying his eyes off the carnage and darkness below, he searched the nearby skies. Sure enough, elegant- yet functional-looking craft appeared as sizeable objects in the not too far distance. He assumed, or hoped, the Valinon admiral had heard his call and was coming. They weren't HAAV's or LTTs, that was for sure - elegant was not part of ITDO vehicle design consideration.

Diesel noticed the broken Buelo edging toward the abyss. He realized he had saved no one yet. He ordered his muscles into immediate action.