NationStates Jolt Archive

"Launch successful? I want stats when it reaches Fifteen."

Ludvik snapped the cell closed, and tossed it onto the conference table. The Conference Room was the only quiet niche of the Ministry at the moment, as the Minions scurrying about in the other Offices made such a racket. The Conference Room, for most of his Cabinet had been dismissed no more than a day ago, was particularly quiet. More so dissolved than dismissed. Well if I were to use the term dissolved I would have to also mention the executions. Wouldn't I? Elimination of any obstacle by eliminating any creation of an obstacle. The Conference Room in which they met, though, was still snazzy. And at the moment, quiet.

After a few seconds of chewing on a cigarette, he glanced over to his open laptop. Video was playing of the Zimovy Island Base, which at the moment was engulfed in a fluffy white smoke. The Scout had launched fine, as had the other two. The launch wasn't something to worry about though, unlike the objective of the Scout.

Audio from the laptop abruptly broke the silence.

"Sir. Equatorial Orbital Plane forty degrees off. Estimated altitude is seventeen miles at the moment... Operations will begin immediately when desired degree is reached. No problems reported as of yet-"

"Obviously. Imperfections don't exist within my Ministry."

"Of course, Minister. Nothing under your Authority is ever marred."

Smile. Good Minions these days.

"Scout One, and Scout Two, have reported no Orbital Obstructions. We're clear for IRS Marcus, Flavia, Sectus, and Cornelia. Scout One and Two are reporting back to IRC-PLR."

"I expect no less. Alert the Crews."

"Understood."

"Hmmm, looks like a launch," Admiral Fara Iro Lancer watched the viewscreens sleepily in the CICC of Earthbound Station. There were always geostats somewhere above Terra, kept in near-stationary orbit at great expense due to the constant necessity of replacing burned-out drives. "Anything new?" she yawned.

"No, admiral. Unless they really want to crash into us," her executive officer repsonded.

"Hmm. Alright. Place the hands on code-three alert, just in case."

She could not do much more, really. Her fleet had been temporarily reduced for regular maintenance, and recent combat against the Rebels had ensured that no new craft would be available to replace them. She leaned back in her chair, and watched the launch.

"Orbital Degree reached. We're settling in now, Captain."

"Fine. We have Forty hours to clear the Orbital Path for Aurelia, get us started... Techie."

The Vessel was only a spec of glinting steel up there, jetting out puffs of vapor as it stabilized. It was shaped like a Boomerang. A giant Boomerang, seamless steel wrapped tightly to it's frame. Around only one-hundred yards in length from end to end, it was one of the smaller Vessels of the Federation. White lights dotted the curved edge, blinking in unison.

"Right away."

The Techie went scrambling away at the console.

"Equatorial Orbital Plane, Scout Route Three, Connecting to guide... We'll be clear with the Orbital system in five minutes. Ping'ing the IRCs. The Caravel has to recover from the launch... I give it ten."

"That's a good Techie. D'ya want a sound card? D'ya? D'ya?"

"With all due respect. Shove it, Captain. Go annoy the Troops."

"Hmmm. Starkin's clear for outbound, admiral," traffic control sent down.

The control tower normally handled all traffic. Most of the time the admiral neither knew or cared who what ships were attached to the pancake-shaped station floating over Weyr. In this case, however, protocol was protocol. The admiral blinked, sighed.

"Give them the go ahead," she responded. "You know the drill."

A slight reverberation ran through the twenty-kilometer disk of the station. "Starkin is away." the message flashed over the command Net.

"As you say," Lancer sighed, as the six-kilometer starlighter began to slowly accelerate past Earthbound station. "It's not like anything's gonna happen."

"Captain. There's something in our way. According to the radar, it's a swath of Jam."

"Well then, we'll just want to crash right into it won't we?" A scoff, and the Captain turned away from the Techie, fixing his earphones into his ears. Nothing says an Orabit around Earth like the Backstreet Boys. Couldn't wait for the Spice Girls CD.

The Techie, though, was immune to the Captains attempted Sarcasm, as it was quite bad. Taken as a literal coment, the Techie directed the Vessel towwards the swath of Jam on radar. "Of course we do, Captain. It's only logical. I'll get the Scones." Roll of the eyes, and the went Techie searching for a Deck of Cards in his pocket.

"What the hell are they doing now?" Lancer asked, bored. She needed a nap.

"Er...no idea, admiral," the scanner-tech responded. They're within our engagement envelope, I think.

"Everything is within our engagement envelope, ensign. We can blast anything in orbit with missiles. Tell me when they start shooting," the admiral responds. "Now get on the Net and order everyone..."

"Yes, admiral," the technician nodded, linked into the local comm levels of the ever-present grid. "Mess, get a..."

"Now go down to get it," Lancer added.

"But..."

"It'll help you remember the capabilities of this station," the admiral cut him off. "And make sure there are no mistakes, ensign." If someone ordered a tall double cappuccino, they were going to get a tall double cappuccino, and not insta-coffee.

"Captain. We're covered in Jam."

"Actually, you haven't done a horrible job at keeping the Cockpit clean-"

"Captain, Radar. Merci."

"Bad Techie. Bad. It's in the Projected Plane. Go contact them or sommat. I have a report to file."

So the Techie went a typing about, clicked a few buttons, flipped a few switches, and turned a few dials. A Connection was attempted with the Earthbound... Thing. "Na no da.. Come in Earthbound.."

Monsieur Capiton went fiddling with his Control Panel, tinkering around with the Controls as well.

----

Open Channel -- MoD -- L10092
Connection -- Port L10092: 210

"Minister... Yes, Hello. I've recieved word from Marcus and Flavia that the materials are in place. Flavia has already began construction... Completion at Two Percent. Still a long way off, Minister. Marcus is just preparing to begin."

"For Ali's sake... They pre-fabricated materials. I want Flavia at Thirty Percent by the end of the week, and Marcus the same. Our entire budget has been used for this project. I will not tolerate mistakes. Get Cornelia and Sectus started already. And clear the Orbit for Aurelia... It's not that difficult."

"Of course Minister."

"I will not tolerate mistakes."

"Er...admiral?" the comm tech asked.

"What?" Lancer sighed, sipping her coffee with two sugars and a hundred milliliters of cream.

"They're trying to contact us, ser," the tech finished with an air of expectancy,

"Well, respond," Admiral Fara Iro Lancer commanded sternly. She had the feeling that her subordinates were getting dumber every year. The Sol Fleet was an easy outpost, and got a good portion of new Star Guard personnel, but this was getting riddiculous.

"Er..." the comm tech keyed into the external communications net. Weyrean craft did not use visual comms for regular communications, so the response was voice-only. "Fodian craft, this is Earthbound Station, please be advised that the latest trafic pattern projections are available at comm array No.91 and navBeacon No.8144D32A7.