NationStates Jolt Archive


Joint Allanea - Menelmacar - Silver Turtle weapons tests

Allanea
19-08-2004, 20:29
In a bunker in Allanea

“Do we have a transmission?” Asked Nivensky, CEO of Allanean Arms. He was very worried. The last testing took the lives of hundreds of brave Allaneans, and today’s ‘cargo’ was going to be more important than any other single Allanean. President-for-Life Alexander Kazansky was personally manning one of the three experimental Anne Coulter MK VI fighter bombers.

“We do. What is the plan?”

“Our Kolob-class carriers have ferried the three jets to Ceres. Menelmacari technicians are giving them the last check-ups as we speak. They will be ready to launch soon.”

In a dock at Ceres

Alexander Kazansky, the pilot of the first fighter, spoke into his comm 'Ceres Base Control, this is Annie-One, I repeat, this is Annie-One, are we cleared for take off?"

“Annie, this is Ceres Base, you are cleared to go.”

Seconds laters, the three Coulters sped out of the Ceres Base outer dock.

Kazansky smiled as he saw watched the HUD data.

In Feanor Palace

The screens showed the three fighters move away from Ceres.

“Fifteen minutes to slipstream… Ten Minutes to slipstream… Five minutes…”

And then the three craft disappeared.

“Your Majesty, we have strange radar readings… they appeared out of nowhere.”

Then, the message came. “Feanor, this is Annie One, requesting landing. Don’t open the champagne before I land, please.”
The Silver Turtle
19-08-2004, 21:11
Ineffable scientists giggled at the thought of, hours after entering the slipstream, the Allanean president finally found his way out, near a red giant star in an uncharted corner of the Andromeda galaxy.
The Allaneans really shouldbe aware of the fine print; inexperienced pilots have a difficult time navigating the slipstream nevermind the fact they opened a slip-portal in the middle of a system, rather than at the edge as everyone familiar with the technology knew to do.

OOC: Definition of the slipstreamhere (http://www.allsystems.org/engineering/enginslipstr.shtml)

Transmission
From: Bob Minor, Minister for Foreign Affairs
To: Alexander Kazansky
Regarding: The Slipstream
Message:
We're willing to train your pilots. However, we do reccomend that, even if you refuse our offer, that you keep all openings to the edge of the system. Ships can be seriously damaged by improper entry to and/or piloting in the slipstream.
Have a nice day.
Allanea
19-08-2004, 21:40
OOC: The drive that thse ships used is not identical to the one I bought for you, but only remotely based from it. Sorry.
The Silver Turtle
19-08-2004, 21:43
OOC: That's fine, I did sell you modification rights. However, for it to still be any use to you it still has to use the same slipstream
Allanea
19-08-2004, 21:43
Transmission
From: Alexander Kazansky
To: Bob Minor
Regarding: The Slipstream

Thank you very much for the prorotype drives. I have allowed myself to make some minor differences in them. The testing of the Kazansky Mark II ISFTL drive is about to be completed in several hours, and I will be glad to report to you the results.
The Silver Turtle
19-08-2004, 22:02
OOC: Just as long as you're aware of the dangers.
Allanea
19-08-2004, 22:33
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=6826049 <-- linky!
Menelmacar
21-08-2004, 20:43
Fëanor Palace had several hangar bays, at which Sirithil docked her personal craft, where visitors could land, and where the Mornahossë's dropships could also land. One of these bays had been made available, and Palace Base Control had been made aware that three Allanean craft would be docking soon.

"Annie One, this is Palace Control, please release your controls and settle back, gravitic tractors will bring you in. Security protocol, y'see. You're cleared for Bay Four, as previously arranged. That said, I'm not sure there's to be much champagne uncorked today."

Lady Sirithil herself was awaiting the three modified Coulters when they set down in the hangar.
Allanea
23-08-2004, 20:30
A man climbed out swiftly off Annie-One. On his right forearm was stitched the Allanean flag, on the other, the nine-pointed star of the Accord. On the man's chest, the emblem of Greater Prussia shone. The man looked more like a 18-year old boy, the kind that favor video game conventions, only more healthy-looking. Large, thick-framed glasses could not consider a strange, maybe even insane, glimmer in his eyes. He stood on one knee in front of the Elven queen as he took off his pilot's helmet. 'Greetings, Lady Sirithil, Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar, High Queen and Lady-Protector of Elvenkind!"

Sirithil was flanked by a pair of Mornahossë, as always inscrutable in their shimmering black armor. The Elentári herself was garbed in a robe of darkest black today, though elegantly trimmed in gold. She simply nodded a bit, gesturing

for him to rise. "Welcome," she said. "Congratulations, it seems your flight was successful; however, I have unfortunate news."

"Indeed, Elentari? I will gladly listen to them - but surely not in a spacedock. Surely the Feanor Palace has somewhere better to discuss such news. Some place fitting both your and my position."
"Very well, come with me, then." The intricately carved oaken doors slid soundlessly open behind her. The Disciple of Melkor followed, escorted by his two pilots. As he went, he surveyed the palace, trying to remember and learn as

much as possible following what his Mentor has taught him 'Learn all the time. You never know where you can pick up something useful.'
"Would the, uhm, Royal Library be quiet and secure enough, Elentari?"
"I'm sure I can find a random meeting room on this level." She was not sure she trusted Kazansky enough for a more... comprehensive tour of the palace. As it is, they walkied down a corridor with windows all down one side,

overlooking the city spread out almost a mile below, and several other towers - both commercial and residential - rise up almost to the same height nearby. The palace itself was quite luxurious, though tastefully so: it was not

ostentatious to the point of overdoing it.

The man walked on, clanking his metal-soled boots as he went, following Sirithil, while making mental notes on things, customs and technologies to adopt in Allanea.

Sirithil arched an eyebrow. "Any chance you could take those off? They'll scratch the floors."

"It would not fit to face an Elven queen barefoot, Elentari," he replied, and then paused, staring blankly down the corridor at something behind Sirithil's back. Seconds later he regained his composure - only to gasp, without the trace of

former politeness, "who is she?"
"I would not be insulted, I assure you--" She turned and glanced behind her. "Who?" Whoever it was, they have just passed out of the corridor into a side room.

"Some local, uhm, person. Wears blue, carries several fat books, and wears glasses - not very common here, is it?", asked the President "Anyway, if you don't know who she was, what's the news?"

"Well, the first two aren't so uncommon. The third probably means it's my great-granddaughter Míriel. Ah, here's the meeting room." She opens the door, and waves him inside.

Alexander Kazansky comes in, and moved a chair for the lady.

"Thank you," she sayd, sitting down. A courtier poured wine, and withdrew. "Try this," Siri mused. "It's a nice Merlot from one of our northern vineyards..." She glances at the label. "Thirty-one-eight-sixty-four. Good year... nice, sort of

light and sweet, like a Beaujolais." She sipped from the glass.

The Arch Treasurer sat down, and poured himself some wine, examining it in front of the light. "We don't make good wine in Allanea. Too young a nation for things that require traidition. Hemp, tobacco, ecstasy - yes. Alcohol, no."

Sirithil looked mildly disgusted at the mention of tobacco and ecstasy. "Well, whatever. Ah! Yes, news..." She pulles out her global comm, scrolling down through the various bulletins she's received. "Ah, here we are... yes. I regret to

inform you that Allanea probably won't be making all that much of anything for a while." She looked up. "Your homeland is apparently currently under orbital bombardment."
Alexander dropped his head on his hands momentarily, than reached for his holster. The guards pause momentarily as he drew an orbital linked Palm. He paled as he looked at the screen, reading out as if in a trance, '30,000 civilians

dead, 20,000 military personell dead. All oil reserves on fire. Massive losses in life an infrastructure."

She nodded. "That basically is about the same reports I'm getting, though I think your officers are probably understating the death toll."

The leader of the Accord cursed in Black Speech. "Forgive me, Elentari. What caused this? I was only away for ten hours!"

"Well, apparently while you were in transit from Ceres there was a little dustup between your forces and forces from Northwestern Liang and Zero-One over the northern icecap of Mars. It, er, spread."

"I knew there were tensions, and I wrote to Galadriel about this, but, God... god... what are we going to do?"

"I'm deeply sorry... if there's anything we can do to help... military intervention is out of the question, but we'll provide whatever aid we can."

"We need technology. Trucks. Transporation. Infrastructure." Kazansky says, his mind already ready to face the new challenge. Then it hardens. "And a professional torturer."

"A torturer?" Siri blinked

"I think I need to get rid of my Vice-President"

"Your vice-president? What about her?"

"It seems to me she might be personally responsible for this debacle. Obviously no moral responsiblity lies with the robots. And people who are responsible of such a thing mus not live long - and neither should they die quickly."
he smiled "I hope you do not misunderstand, Elentari. I do this rarely."

Sirithil shivered a little. "Well, I should hope so," she said. "Though, if you're interested in Menelmacari help beyond humanitarian aid, I will need to settle certain concerns."

AlexanderKazansky gulped down the wine. "I am listening, Elentari. Say, could I stay here for several days, as a guest?"

"Certainly. Though it would probably be good for your people's morale were you repatriated as soon as possible once the Zero-One fleet withdraws."

"True. However, I think I can do more for my people from here. I will probably need to check if Nivensky survived. Besides..." he pauses "...I think my mansion just became glass." He pauses again. "And, and, and I think I should want

to meet with some of your local... industry representatives."

"Not glass... according to satellite intelligence most of your infrastructure was flattened, but your civilian population was avoided as carefully as possible."

"I see. At any rate, I would like to stay on for a few days. I have a few matters to settle... of national importance, of course... that would best be dealt with in Menelmacar. You know, tariffs, large-scale industrial orders, and so forth."

"Right... though an important question must be asked... how will you be paying for them? This is not the world of sixty years past, with its Marshall Plans; massive charity on a national scale is unworkable.I'm sorry, I'm sure that sounds

bad," Siri said. "But my first responsibility *is* to my own people."

"You know, they didn't appoint me Arch Treasurer for nothing. There's billions of people in Allanea that want the quality of life they had 24 hours ago. Where it the world of sixty years ago, with its New Deal, their money would be

worthless. Right now, they have currency that will maintain value even if they kill the last Allanean government official."

"Says here your treasuries were hit too." She frowns.

"One of them, yes. Hit, not penetrated. The Federal Reserve keeps it's money in fifteen silos all over the country, and they are good to take two megatons. Besides, just open the gates. The free market will do it's work."

Sirithil nodded. "Well, you might be right. It would be...fortunate indeed." The comm beeps, and she glanced at it, reading for a minute or two. "Er, I've just been informed that Zero-One has sent your government terms for surrender.

You might want to look them over." She hands him the comm so he can see.

"This is basically a return of our military to Iron Age levels. They can go..." and the man fell silent.

"That's what it amounts to, yes," Siri said softly.

"We do have some resources yet, Lady Sirithil. We will not stand for this. They may kill me, Elentari, but I refuse with my own hands to dismantle what I struggled to build for 50 years. Now, about the help...

"I think... I think you need to ask yourself what is more important. Let your martial dreams fade, Alexander. You can rebuild your economy; make your nation a center for entertainment and tourism and finance. Trade, that sort of thing.

You may be forbidden from extracting resources yourself, but you can make a fine sum of money selling the rights to do so to foreign firms.But your people will live, Alexander."

"My people will live, Sirithil. Not as slaves to the Edolians, though. I am sure my cabinet has already given the apropriate orders."

"You need not fear the Edolians. If you sign the treaty and abide by it, I promise you we will ensure they never move against you."
"I am not even sure that fleet is even in existence at the moment."

"Menelmacar's net of reconnaissance satellites, the Elenpalantíri, spans the length and breadth of the globe. I can bring real-time footage of the battle into this very room." She reached for a control panel, and indeed did precisely

that; the lights dim, and little holographic ships duke it out above the table.
"All of this is happening roughly a second and a half before you're seeing it."

The screen showed there reserves of the Allanean Stellar Navy - in fact, every surviving ship - gather upon the 01 fleet, just as 30-inch cannon on the ground lob nuclear shells into orbit, attmpting to strike it."
Deep below in Allanea, they saw Allanean forces crossing the border with Goobergunchia.

"Would it surprise you, Elentari, that I find it a bit.. disturbing to watch the event like this, without ability to contribute? Can we, please, stop this?"

Sirithil nodded, and turned off the holo; the lights came up on their own. "Estimates suggest it is unlikely you will prevail in a direct confrontation, and more people will die," she says softly. "And I do have some concerns."

"I am listening, Elentari."

Sirithil nodded. "Well, a few weeks ago you were found here in an escape pod of Angbandhrim design. As you requested, you were quickly repatriated, but I do still wonder what you were doing on an Angbandhrim ship."

"I was imprisoned. I still don't know why my mentor did it to me... but he did."
"Aha," Siri mused. "Another of my concerns confirm. 'Mentor'? The Black Foe of the World?"

"Indeed. You could not have failed to notice how I sign my official correspondence. I have learned a lot in Angband - but not that which I came to learn. The nature of my mentor's betrayal - or lesson - I do not yet understand."

"No, I did not fail to notice. I had thought it was a delusional conceit, much the same as Morgoth's own habit of claiming lordship of all Arda. The lesson that comes from the betrayal is that Morgoth cannot be trusted, and that you were

a fool to trust him. It is simply that, no more and no less."

"But, uhm, why? What did he have to gain by imprisonning me? And that leads us to my request: I need access to your Library. Perhaps there I can find my answer."

Sirithil laughed "He simply tired of you, is most likely. When you ceased to amuse him, or have any worth to him, he cast you aside."

"Perhaps." Kazansky saddened. "I wonder if I'll ever know who I am. Tell me, does your Library have any information on the various strange creatures of this world?"

"What do you mean, who you are?"

"I am not human. I do not know yet what I am, but I am not human. I have survived and done so many things that a human could not do and survive that I am clearly not human." He begins to count off on his fingers "Multiple-thousand

rentgen radiation, twice. Gunfire, repeatedly. Hunger, torture, tearing off steel shackles, escape from Angband, you get my drift?"

* Sirithil nodded a little. "The full range of Menelmacari knowledge, along with a copy of every printed work known to have ever been published by any known race, exists in our Archive of the Ages. Unfortunately, access is limited to

our citizens, though there is a library in the palace that has access to most of what the Archive contains. "Will that suffice?"

"Will you trust me with it?" Kazansky raised an eyebrow in surprse. "After all... " his glance fell involuntarily to the symbols stitched to his uniform.

Sirithil laughed. "Not with the Archive, certainly not. I can give you access to certain parts of my library, though."

Alexander Kazansky smiled and suddely hugged Sirithil. When he lets go of her, he is laughing. "You are not aware of the depths of joy you are granting me, Elentari."

Sirithil was a little overwhelmed, and somewhat surprised given the Allanean's domestic problems. "Well, I'm glad to be of help. If I'm to do this for you, though, I want you to consider that treaty. The shooting will stop. And I will deal

with the Edolians."

The President nodded. His mind is apparently occupied by something else.

* Sirithil nodded as well. "Go," she said. "I'll see you get rooms. You'll have to be under escort, of course." She beckoned one of the Mornahossë over, and whispered, "*watch* him." to which the soldier nodded.

Alexander left the room. "Tell me," he adressed the soldier, "where is that library?"


"In one of the other wings. This way." The soldier leads him along, the other Mornahossë bringing up the rear. "And you might want to take the boots off. Gouged floors tend to displease the Lady."

"Can you find me a set of different ones? Wouldn't fit to show up in a library in my socks, would it?" smiled the President.

"I'm sure it would fit fine," the soldier in back said. "One prefers to be quiet in a library, after all. But we'll see about getting you some... more suitable footwear."
Alexander took off his boots. "Would you mind and carry these? Be careful, there's weapons in them."

l> "Right." The soldier took them. "We'll need you to hand over any other weapons as well, please."

Alexander Kazansky shrugged, handing over an oversized handgun. "You know, if I wanted to kill someone, I had plenty of opporunity. Now lets go to the library, shall we?"

"Is that everything?" the Mornahossë asked dryly.
"Do my fingers count?"

The first soldier chuckled a little. "Don't tempt Anárion. He is too quick with his blade." He hands over the pistol and boots to a passing courtier. "Don't worry, they'll be returned to you when you leave."

"The library is this way."

"Good. Tell me, would it violate your orders to just guard the exit? I mean, I would be more comfortable reading without guards behind my back."

"Yes, it would. We were told to watch you, after all. And the order did come from the Lady herself." They lead Kazansky down the corridor, and then turn over a sort of enclosed bridge; the entire palace is not a standalone structure,

but is instead built atop several of the tallest towers in the downtown of the city. Various wings of the palaces are set on various towers, with bridges between. The view is, predicably, heartstopping?

Alexander Kazansky walked on, grinning as he approaches the entrance, looking over the shoulder at his guards with obvious contempt. The guards were fine with that, as they've been looking at him with a similar expression since the

hangar bay. They've been trained for decades and hardened by combat, to end life with perfunctory ease; Alex may be hard to kill, but they can certainly cause him vast quantities of extreme pain. When they entered, they pointed out

several expansive sections of the library, accounting to over two-thirds its floor space. "That's where you can't go," Anárion said. "You're to stay in this part over here, which contains just about anything you'd need for the topic of

your research anyway."

"Good. Now why don't you just block the passes to that part and let me work in quiet?" says Kazansky, looking over his part of the library - looking for something that is not a book.

One of the Mornahossë went and set up the security system so that if he passed into the off-limits areas an alarm will go off; the other shadows him discreetly among the shelves, keeping him always in sight, but staying always out of

the way. Their guest continued his search, seemingly - for a book, but actually for something different - and infinitely more valuable.

Sirithil wandered into the library, and a whispered conversation with the soldier not following Kazansky tells her more or less where he is. "Alexander?"

"Yes, Elentari?"

"Er, more news. Apparently the Federation of Sentient Peoples will be deploying earth penetrators in... about five hours or so. They tend to make large earthquakes."

"And? That is one thing I planned for." says Kazansky, trying his best to remain calm.

Sirithil shrugged. "All right. Well, good luck with your research." She wandered off, just...amazed.

Alexander Kazansky shrugs, as he continues his search, mindlessly collecting related books.