NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is closed to non-ESUS nations, unless you TG me, and we [b]all/b] agree to let you in. Let's keep OOC chatter out of this thread and on the planning thread. I'll post a link in the planning thread, so don't post TAGs here, please keep quiet until you've got something to say IC.

IC:

A small group of military vessels. Nothing extraordinary, nothing except their intent. They had arrived in Sol to perform an important function, one that would make the upcoming actions of their nation vastly easier. The members of this force, for it could hardly be called a fleet, had been hand-picked by their admirals for the traits that would serve to make this mission a success. They were dedicated to their homeland, skilled in combat, and excellent actors. They were in Sol to act the role of pirates. Pirates against ESUS shipping, trade, and supply lines. Their government had equipped them with weapons rarely, if at all, used by the Al-Imvad Navy, or weapons known to be available on the various black markets. They had been painted in the extravagant colors that pirates are known to be fond of, and their crews dressed as pirates. However, if the necessity arose, they could prove far better at combat than any pirates who had yet dared to infiltrate the system that so many mighty nations called home. Their ragtag-in-appearance fleet cruised into the Kupier Belt beyond Pluto and set up a small, hidden base of operations. Within hours of landing their mobile command structure on a small asteroid, a flight of Mallards (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v502/Al-Imvadjah/NS-fighters/Mallard3.jpg) was waiting for their first target: one of the regularly scheduled supply flights that kept the Jordaxian Pluto bases alive. Not that Mallards were the only attack craft to have arrived in Sol. These crusaders would not be remembered in any history books, save perhaps a passing mention for economically weakening the ESUS before the war. But perhaps not, for pirates of far lesser skill are common in the outer reaches of Sol, the areas through which law enforcement and merchants alike do not usually pass.

----------

Long range reconnaissance patrols are common in the Al-Imvad military doctrine, but never before has a vessel gone so long in such complete isolation. It had been sent to an area of the galaxy previously deemed off limits: the Kanukistani system known as Kyoto. This single vessel was not there to attack, only to observe. It had just spent the last two months carefully cruising through the FTLi field surrounding the system so that it could get an accurate count of the number and size of the vessels in this system. The Nighthawk would probably not be noticed, having already passed through the most dangerous part of its mission it was unlikely for the in-system sensors to succeed where the complex arrays of sensor drones guarding the FTLi field had failed. Soon it would complete its survey of the Kanukistani assets and make the return journey.

----------

Similar infiltrations by hidden observers were occurring in other ESUS-held systems around the galaxy. But these observers could only judge the military strength of known strongholds. To discover the hidden chinks in the armor of her powerful foe, it was necessary for Al-Imvad Military Intelligence to move into full swing. Within days of the secret orders being given, the same orders that had launched the Nighthawks and outfitted the ‘pirates’, spies were infiltrating the Earthly homes of high government officials, bugs were being planted by ‘maintenance’ men in key locations. Agents were going through miles of records and reports, trying to triangulate ship sightings and minor disturbances into knowledge of hidden outposts, diplomatic channels were being carefully exploited to trick diplomats and bureaucrats into giving up information that might lead to the discovery of ESUS military and civilian colonies not on the official star charts. Old records, official statements, and ill-gotten knowledge of the military strength of various ESUS nations were all put towards determining where and how to land the first blows against Al-Imvadjah’s opponents. These are the preparations for war that begin months, sometimes even years before an official declaration, or even the beginning stages of mobilization. And they began, it would be months yet before the High Command would even begin to be ready for the coming action, but the invisible war was already under way.

In the grand thing of things it could be argued the Fleet Admiral Jensen was a powerful man. He after all was in command of the 8th fleet tactical fleet, also known as the ESUS fleet, for it was the section of the fleet dedicated to ESUS operations.

However, three years ago that fleet had all been destroyed by a then unknown foe. Tappee forces had sustained almost as much losses in a two-day period then the two years of war in the Orion war Results of the battle had not been all bad in retrospect, they had been able to obtain both new technology and tactics. As well the older ship models had been replace with new more advanced models. In the three years that had passed military production had been increased by 30%, as a result fleet size was still down by 5%, with a projected increase of 15% in the next ten years.


Military operations had suffered though, with the exception of the garrison in the Orion sector Tappee pulled all of its force back to the prime sector and to classified locations. Three years ago Tappee had been caught by surprise by an attack in the Sol system, mistake that they were not going to let happen again. Specialized sensor equipment, and automated weapon platform littered the sky above Tappee.

With the infiltration by the 4th Imperium, and subsequent terrorist attacks the governments security crack down had been unprecedented. One could not go more then 200m in a public area with out running to Tappee security forces.

Despite all that Jensen mind was not settled, he saw the universe for what it was, a dangerous place. And like some many other times before, this was nothing more then the calm before the storm.

Standing to the right of Jensen was another well-known Admiral, rear Admiral Martac, who was second in Command of the Tappee fleet. Today the two men found themselves walking through the corridors of the Tappee Star Base Margulas ( http://www.geocities.com/gatekeeper3028/Medical.jpg). They soon found themselves staring out a window at a ship sitting in dry dock, the Heaven’s Thunder. One of three Cronos Class dreadnaughts, the largest and most powerful ships in the fleet, currently it found itself in dry-dock finishing an extensive retrofit.

“Are they on schedule?” asked Martac as the two gazed out over the Heaven’s Thunder

“Yes.” Quickly answered Jensen “They should be done in just over a four days”

“Good, once the Heaven’s Thunder is finished the 8th should be back to full strength”

The spindly octopus shape of the Jordaxian freighter ship slid through space with an unnatural grace. Small bursts of white light flared from the arms occasionally, causing the metallic creature to shift from its course slightly. Extending out into the infinite from the window of the bridge were rings of light, pulsing as they guided the ship to its destination. They flickered slightly, and went out suddenly as the screen turned off. The bridge darkened, only the red lights of the other consoles illuminating it. With a slight grunt of effort, the captain of the freighter Same Day Delivery pushed himself into the air, and with a swiftly timed spin and kick, propelled himself towards the door. The rest of the crew ignored this strange manoeuvre, since it had long been a common trait of the captain to give an inspection of the ship in the few hours before it docked with its target. In this case, Pluto, the adopted homeworld of the Eternal Empire. The lack of gravity also was a common feature amongst Jordaxian freighters, sacrificed in preference for small weapons systems with which to defend itself, or discourage small-time pirates from making easy meat of what was essentially a floating scaffold with an engine.

For the meantime, anyway, the vast silence of space pervaded every nook and cranny of the freighter.


On Pluto, the corridors of the Empire were bustling with activity, a scene of frenzied, controlled chaos in preparation for the arrival of the vital ship. Air and water deliveries were the most important of all. Lacking the capability to produce enough water and air to sustain itself, it had to import from the more fortunate inner-sol civilisations for the basic necessity, and it never went without. Pirate attacks were rare in the water and air shipments, but even then it merely meant a change in delivery ship. Seeing the possibility for quick profit, a pirate raider with sufficient gaul could snatch the freighter, and sell the goods on board to the Empire, keeping the profit to itself, much to the chagrin of the myriad companies contracted to bring the goods instead. Despite their wailings, the Eternal Empire refused to provide assistance to the corporations, since it was an inevitability that they would recieve the shipment anyway. Whilst hardly an honourable system of conduct, life was hard enough in the outer sol-system to be forced to protect those without enough skill to ward off a few pathetic pirates, or at least, that is what the warrior caste had managed to convince the Padshah of.

Long-range surveillance vessels swung in their usual lazy orbit around Jupiter. Their sensor systems picked up weapons fire; hardly uncommon in Sol. They localised it to Jordaxian territory, making it of slightly-higher interest. The target was confirmed as a Jordaxian trading vessel, and the attackers; pirates.
The semi-sentient AI relaxed. The Kuiper Belt was full of pirates. Jordaxia had terrible trouble with them, but it was hardly unusual. It was written off as unimportant, and business continued as usual.

OOC: In other words, Tag :p

OOC TST seems to have started the skirmish for us...
IC
First Lieutenant John Kazzad turned up the volume on his speaker systems, which were blasting Rock & Roll music throughout the cockpit of his Mallard. While his weapons operator concentrated on affecting a target lock on the engines of the transport, he swung the sluggish fighter/bomber through a series of maneuvers to avoid the unexpected AA fire coming from the freighter. This first shipment would be the most important. They had only brought enough water to supply their hidden base for a few days. It was for this reason that Fred Geraldsson, his WO, was taking such caution. After what seemed like ages, Geraldsson announced that he had the lock, and Kazzad straitened the small craft into a direct flight path toward the freighter. Nearly the instant that the pilot felt the AAM launch itself from under his right wing, a stream of energy from the defensive guns caught a grazing blow at the base of his left wing. The poorly trained gunners had taken the opportunity of his strait attack run to walk their fire onto him. However, the armor that made him so slow also gave him the ability to survive such a light hit. He pulled away and looped around; using his two guns to exact revenge on the offending turret. As he passed by, he saw one of his two wingmen swooping in to hit the bridge of the target. He got onto the encrypted radio and called for the larger vessels to bring up the equipment to move and empty the disabled freighter.

Long range reconnaissance patrols are common in the Al-Imvad military doctrine, but never before has a vessel gone so long in such complete isolation. It had been sent to an area of the galaxy previously deemed off limits: the Kanukistani system known as Kyoto. This single vessel was not there to attack, only to observe. It had just spent the last two months carefully cruising through the FTLi field surrounding the system so that it could get an accurate count of the number and size of the vessels in this system. The Nighthawk would probably not be noticed, having already passed through the most dangerous part of its mission it was unlikely for the in-system sensors to succeed where the complex arrays of sensor drones guarding the FTLi field had failed. Soon it would complete its survey of the Kanukistani assets and make the return journey.



Commodore Paul Harding, commander of the Superfortress KHGV Not Covered Under Warrenty and, for the moment, the military assets in and around Kyoto system, sighed, and, reclining in his sinfully comfortible office chair, keyed up the next in the day's e-mail. And frowned.

It was from the Adventurers' Guild. And scanning the opening lines, discovered it was not so unlike the ones they had been sending him every day for the last two months. Messages he could never quite get the acursed spam filters to sort out.

With an anoyed grunt and mental command, he punched up his ship's feed from system tracking, highlighting the contact that preliminary had taged probible debris, but later decided was most likly a stealth ship flying recon through the far reaches of the system.

Paul hadn't partularly cared, however; the ship's ballistic trajectory wouldn't carry it within half a light day of the inner system, and steered clear of the shipping corridors. That was well within the system's lightmonth-deep FTLi, but hardly a tactical threat - a mild annoyance, prehaps, at their gal, but Kyoto station only had enough frigates to cover the shipping aproaches, and regs said the Warrenty was to remain near the colony unless a military threat was encountered.


And he wasn't prepared to let that band of triggerhappy vigilanties and mercenaries wander into a potential First Contact situation.


And so, he had been prepared to let them watch, beliving themselves invisible; the data they gathered could be no better than the sensor logs collected by the hundreds of civilian vessels which visited the system every day - data they could no doubt buy from forgine captains for little more than a song, if they so wished.


Had been. Until now. Until learning, in that last e-mail, that the frigate KHGV Hentai Tentacle Monster would be arriving in three days - well befor that peeping tom would again near the FTLi's edge.

And so, the Guild still wouldn't get to go after what system control had dubed Peeping Tom One. But neither was their intruder now so likly to get away scott free.


OOC:
Tis late; I'll post the Monster's arrival tomorrow.

The water delivery had not arrived. Neither had the subsequent ones. At first the shipping lanes were scoured up and down by frantic Nonsequitors (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v639/Guo2/Nonsequitor.jpg), but upon finding what little remained of numerous scraps of metal resembling Jordaxian freighters, it was decided that they had fallen victim to a pirate attack. Salvaging of the ships black box, in the occasional situation it actually survived the seemingly merciless attacks, seemed to corroberate this evidence. Visual footage recovered from the Same Day Delivery shown a rather... uniquely coloured looking ship bearing down on it moments before the data cut short. It was decided that a few hours should be waited for the deliveries to turn up in bulk... the few hours waiting would be spent deciding what to do with the pirates if they had decided not to supply the empire with the resources it so desperately needed.

A council meeting was called, bringing together the warrior caste, the religious/bureaucratic caste, and the Padshah, Yang-chen II. The council chambers consisted of three rooms, all fantastically ornate. The chamber of the warrior caste was a small, mainly functional room with a grand wooden table and six seats. Gold lining was extensively featured, but so tastefully done that it could seem brash and gaudy to nobody. The chairs were backed with a deep red fabric, and designed to be incredibly comfortable, whilst holding a good posture. The Religious/bureaucratic castes chamber was considerably larger, and used much deeper colours, delving into purples and violets. The rows of seats, whilst having a mass-produced aesthetic to them, were well made, not showing up everything else. On one of the walls, there was a grand, epic mural, showing the exodus of the Jordaxian people from Earth, and their settling on Pluto. Just below that there was a platform facing the seat rows for speeches to be made, bearing the seal of the Eternal Empire. The final room, the one that was currently occupied, was the smallest of the three, and the least grand. Consisting of a semicircular table resembling the curved seal of the Empire, and having three seats, one red, one dark purple, and the final, central one a plan wood polished to a shine. Sitting on them were the two representatives of the castes, and the Padshah.

Admiral Daibai, typical of the lanky Jordaxians, standing eleven feet tall and having very little musculature, representative of the warrior caste held the floor.

"My liege, these attacks are the most violent and consistent we have recorded in some time. They show a level of organisation the level of which we have only very rarely seen amongst the pirate gangs that inhabit our nation. We can see here..." he flicked a switch on his table, activating a bright holoscreen that displayed the sphere of influence of the Eternal Empire. Numerous flashing lights along the trading routes of the Empire were marked out. "...that within the space of a few hours, the vast majority of our water and air shipments for the next few days have gone missing. Typically, whoever had stolen these would promptly resell them at an inflated price, however, this has not happened. Since the pirates depend on our existence to provide them with plunder, we cannot assume that they would decide to effectively lay siege to the Empire when it would destroy their livelihood. It would also be suicidal. They have no way to withstand our navies retalliation. Which is why it must come now, before whatever assistance they have been promised can arrive." Looking around at the two other people in the room, Daibai sat down.

The religious/bureaucratic representative turned to face the Padshah.

"As irregular an occurance as this is, Emperor, I am in full agreement with the admiral. Such a threat to the Empire can only be responded to with the utmost severity and force. Whatever course of action he sees fit to take, I support. The religious/bureaucratic caste has always called for the expulsion of these creatures from our territory anyway."

With little more than a nod, The Eternal Padshah of the Empire granted Daibai permission to assemble the warrior caste, and reduce the pirates holdings to rubble.


A few hours later, a sight never before seen in the Eternal Empire was unfolding. Six Blood red ships slid from concealed bays deep within Pluto, and accelerated towards the surface. The sheer scale of the ships dwarfed the tiny Nonsequitors stored in racks deep in the icy cold darkness of the planetoid as they glid past. Upon breaking the surface of Pluto, they turned in unison, and began towards Varuna, the makeshift homeworld of the pirate raiders. In the dropships within the vessels, mechanoid spiders with human torsos flexing and limbering, trying to get some semblance of comfort within the cramped holding ships.

Aboard the colossal Twist of Fate admiral Jikan had just finished a metting with the five other judges of the warrior caste... Such a unique operation should not have a single slip-up. Fortunately, the warriors held all the cards. Such a deployment of the caste was unprecedented, and the sheer amount of firepower these six ships could project was unrivalled in the outer system. Through his neurite link, Jikan was informed that the pirate leader on Varuna was attempting to contact him. Unsurprising, given that the Eternal Empire had commonly went to this man to hire mercenaries for tasks. The hails went ignored, and he sent a silent command to the others to ignore any attempts at communication until an impact had been made. Around Varuna, a few hundred pirate ships were sitting idle, before buzzing into activity at the appearance of the six ships on their sensors. It was quickly realised that this was not the usual envoy with a small accompaniment, but something far more hostile. With a wry smile, Jikan assumed total command of the ship through his neurites. Hundreds of hatches at the side of the ship flew open, and a single missile flew from each in a broadside, causing the ship to lurch ever so slightly to the left. An equal amount began to pour from the opposite side, bringing the ship back to alignment. The scene repeated amongst the other five ships, thousands of tiny white lights cruising towards the miniscule pirate ships, and towards Varuna. As the pirates began to attempt to evade the death flying towards them, it suddenly got worse. Each of the white lights indicating a missile died for a second, and four more grew from each. Their course became erratic and drunken, attempting to evade any point defense the pirates had. Several courses were so wild it appeared that the guidance had failed, only for intense radiation spikes to appear moments later as they fired high-powered masers at the ships, scarring them. the return fire from the pirates was scant, similar missiles screaming from the few holds they possessed, attempting to strike down the vastly superior horde of Jordaxian "Hummingbirds". It was no use. Titanic flashes reached back across the void towards Jikan as the missiles struck home. In an instant, every single one of the pirate vessels was utterly destroyed, and there were missiles to spare. With one last burst of light, they changed their course and began a unified dive towards varuna. Intense radiation bursts shown that the point defense of Varuna was picking off missiles at an incredible rate as they began to run out of fuel and coast unguided towards the planetoid. It didn't matter though, it was merely an attack of fortune. Continuing the previous course, the deep red ships proceeded to Varuna.

#tag#

Mutei looked over the troopships from the observation tower at the far end of the cargo hold. Red lights washed over their hulls and bathed her face in the glow. To her, the atmosphere was tangible, she could feel the excitement washing over her. Behind her, officers and crew dashed about together to complete the preparations for the immediate pacification of the pirate stronghold. Several thousand of the finest troops Jordaxia had to offer were sitting in the hold, ready to descend upon the filth in that compound like demons. to the left and right of the larger dropships there were sleek pods, bearing, once again, the uniformed blood red that featured prominently in these warrior ships. The only exception was at the bottom. Ornate carvings and sculptings were set around it, several of the more beautiful pods having dragons heads with an almost ridiculous amount of detail put into them, scales, perfectly carved faces, jewels set into the eyes, they looked more like decorative artifacts than drop pods. In unison, the four pods most prominently visible began to slide into the floor of the cargo hold, which promptly close around then. A few moments later, the sound of them being ejected from the ship was clearly heard.


Inside the pod was a tangled mass of metal limbs. A true warrior caste version of the Jordaxian doc ock powered armour. Sixteen limbs, each one with a weapon of its own to be used against the foe. The latest reactive electron protective system to stop it from being picked apart by armour piercing bullets. Lethally sharp blades to allow it to slice through its foes with ease. Its most valuable asset was locked within the torso segment. One of the disciples of the Jordaxian warrior caste, sworn to follow Mutei til death. This, as far as anything in the outer system was concerned, was death incarnate.

Inside the beast, the disciple glanced over the readings taken in by the pod. It was being cooked by point defense masers all over, but the thermokinetic foam was absorbing and dispersing a lot of it. Readings taken just before the drop indicated that the pod would punch through the crust of Varuna and stop in the hanger, where even more pirate ships would be located. This particular disciples orders were to incapacitate as many of the crews as possible, and open both of the hangar doors to allow friendly dropships access. After that, its orders were simple. Search and destroy.


The surface of Varuna loomed upwards, though the disciple was unable to see it. The dragons head pierced the surface of the planetoid, causing it to crack with little resistance. After a few moments of darkness, there was another shunt, metallic this time. The pod had lodged itself in the upper gantry of the hanger, tearing half of a pirate fighter apart in the process. The door of the pod fired off, and for the first time, the disciple seen its enemy. Taking advantage of its coiled posture inside the pod, and the obvious surprise of the spacesuited pirate, he jumped at the unfortunate victim, grabbing her with two of his claws. With nothing more than a tug he ripped the lanky human in two, globules of blood floating up in the atmosphereless cavern. Dead nearly instantly, the disciple put the pirate out of her misery by crushing her skull. The horrible crunch was only audible to the disciple, and he did not savour it. The few moments taken was enough for some of the humans further away to react, and the armoured suit picked up weapons fire coming from the far corner of the hanger. Isolating the aggravants, the disciple brought four of its miniguns to bear in a sudden act of contortion, and opened up on their position. Within moments the firing stopped, though the sparks caused by the bullets took several moments to drift far enough apart to make anything visible. When they had, it was another horribly violent scene. There was virtually nothing left of his two assailants bar a rad stain on the wall, and some unrecognisable chunks of flesh floating nearby. He had not expected such little resistance though, but put it down to the surprise and ferocity of the Jordaxian attack, the fighter pilots had not yet time to respond. There were only a few exits from the hangar bay, he designated his assisting AI to alert him should any movement come from there.

Forcing himself into the air, and using his thrusters to manoeuvre around the deathly silent bay, he quickly located the hanger door over-ride codes, and slammed them down. The suit picked up movement from the main doors, and translated it into a sound, like it was programmed to do with all vacuum situations. Once the two doors had opened up, a large extension of the cavern was visible, smoothed and straight towards the surface of Varuna. There were guidance lights at each wall. Sending a signal back up to Mutei aboard the Little Wolf to begin the invasion, the disciple turned back to observe the access doors.


Mutei signalled for the landing to commence. The red lights increased in intensity as the bay doors groaned open exposing space below it. The racks of dropships seemed to be anticipating the release and the dive. There was a few moments of nothingness, and then bright blue rocket flares erupted from the top of the dropships as they forced their way out of the Little Wolf. They picked up speed as they dove towards the surface of the planetoid with their cargo of troops, each one being targetted by the weapons on Varuna, again to no avail. Each of the dropships maintained its course. Once they approached the surface, they cleanly split into four groups, three heading towards breach points the other warriors had opened for them, the final group swarming down the hangar bay towards the first disciple. They quickly filled the cavern, and opened their doors to reveal hundreds more doc ock armours, the standard 8 limbed variant. Pushing themselves out of the doors, they propelled themselves to the nearest surface, and dug their claws in, but bringing the weapons to bear. Once they had all done this, the dropships turned round, and departed back to the little wolf.

Intersteller Void: 812 Lightyears from Kyoto


"Sir, we're ready for the final jump into Kyoto."

Captain Drake Fenwick, KHGV Hentai Tentacle Monster, noded towards the helm officer; the hunamoid rabit's ears waving about with the motion.

"Good; coordinate with system FTLi and schedule a hole atleast..." he paused then, pulling up a holomap of kyoto - entanglment-based comms relaying telemetry from the system's extensive sensor net in real time. Focusing on the contact belived to be a spy vessel, considered his previous judgment of the situation and reasoned it still sound. "... five emm-ess-kay in front of the bogey, in fifteen minutes. In the meantime, match speed and vector with the bodey's last known; I want to go in with a relative speed of zero."

When the helmsman signeled ascent, the lapine captain sat back and gave a buck-toothed grin, "Alright. Sound general quarters and rig for silent running."


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


Kyoto System: 5 MSK/16.667 Light Seconds in front of Unknown Contact, Zero Relative Velocity. Fifteen Minutes Later.

...

"Aaannd... jump complete, sir; system FTLi reports restored."

"Ops is green across the board; all stations report ready."

"We have the contact on passives; designated Peeping Tom One."

Drake nodded in silent acknowledgment to the wave of reports that followed their sudden, silent transition into the system; his eyes upon the holographic plot befor him.

"Any sign that they've seen us?"

"No change, sir; they might not even be looking this way if they are a spy ship."

The rabbit gave another nod, "Drop a recon drone past them on a slow fly-by; full stealth. Lets get a closer look at our friend there."


Outside, 350 meters of angular, obsidian warship drifted, emmissions keyed to match background energies, her high-efficency free-space holographics painting in obscured stars - gravitics near-perfectly counter-forcing the effects of her mass upon space, time, and matter, hiding them from all but the most sensitive sensors.

Slowly, then, a rear hatch opened, facing away from the alien vessel; a small, stealthed object, no larger than a child's fist, slipping out - gliding backwards, behind the cover of it's mothership, gaining range befor firing it's reactionless drive; the small power spike concealed behind the larger craft's stealthed bulk, it's laterial array steering the recon drone out of a collision, befor killing that small motion with a longer, weaker laterial thrust - weak enough that the small vessel's own passive stealth could hide it in full, long enough to avoid passing within fifteen meters of the bogey at closest aproach.. but at the same time, no farther than twenty.

It would take several minutes to cross the void, and until then, the crew of the Monster waited.

“Sensor contact at mark: point 001 starboard. It’s directly ahead of us, sir.”

“Where’d it come from?”

”Dunno sir, but the computer just went wild. Appears to have jumped in and immediately cloaked. Shall I activate active sensors?”

“No, any other activity in the region?”

“Only residual from its jump.”

“Any idea what sort of contact?”

“No sir, its cloak went up too fast to get any sort of idea. We’re only getting a very slight reading. Just enough to know something is there.”

“Directly ahead?”

“Yes sir.”

“Tactical, what is the most likely vessel to have made this maneuver?”

“Probably a light scout craft. If we don’t light up, it’ll probably leave. Intelligence reports from last year suggest that if we approach close enough to cloaked Kanukistani vessels, we should be able to get a reading on the with passives. Also, we believe that they have developed cloaking generators similar to our CC-112, small enough to fit on a heavy fighter or corvette.”

“Nav, what is our present speed? Could we survive an impact?”

“Unless we hit energy shielding, yes. If we hit hull-to-hull, then we should just push them along in front of us until they decide to leave. If we impact hard energy, then we may lose the outer layer of frontal armor, with more going the longer we stay in contact.”

“My orders are to maintain present course and speed. Load the forward tubes, quietly if we hit energy, fire them off. We should just cruise right past them, and get a good look when we pierce that cloak field. All hands battle stations, brace for impact. Sound the alert.

Sirens went off for a few short seconds, rousing sleeping men from their bunks. Soon the forward tunes were being manually loaded and primed to fire. Then the ship went silent. The only active systems were the passive sensors as everybody braced for impact and hoped that they would be able to cruise and not come into physical contact with whatever small craft had arrived.

----------
A flight of three Mallards was waiting along the tradelines which approached Pluto. A freighter carrying the all-important supplies of oxygen and air was approaching, being escorted by a single Jordaxian fighter. The ‘pirate’ commander was riding backseat in the lead fighter, examining his display while reading strategic and tactical readouts.

“Yep, right on schedule. Move in, but hold your fire. We don’t want to kill the Jordaxians on Pluto. Just shake them up a bit. We’ll let this one and tomorrow’s get through, but stop them all for the next week. After that, orders will come in regarding the state of preparations an’ what to do from then.”

“Are you sure? It wouldn’t be any trouble to take them down.” Queried his pilot.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Just waggle the wings as a friendly gesture to that fighter and be quiet while I open a comm channel.”

Then he affected an accent and spoke to the Jordaxian fighter and freighter.
“Hi, ya’ll. Quiet a display you people put on yest’day. Ah’m jus’ glad me an’ ma’ boys were out hitting the lux’ry liners by Sa-turn. Now, ah’m a-gunna let cha’ll get on through t’day. But only ‘cuz ah’m a nice guy.”
The flight leader intentionally ‘accidentally’ left the channel open while he pretended to speak to his pilot”
“We’s gotta fin’ dus a new base. Now that they done broke up th’ ol’ one. Keep y’ eyes open for a nice astr’od. Ohshit. I left the comm on.”
He then flicked the off switch and gave new orders to the pilot:
“Now peel away and give it full throttle until I tell you we’re out of their sensor range.”

*TAG* for later participation

OOC: So this seems to have stagnated. And I want to get it done before everybody forgets the way things used to be and can’t remember when this is taking place on the IC timeline. So I’ll skip most of the intervening period and assume everything went approximately to plan.

IC:

--Strike Group One--

“Destination locked in, all FTL systems reporting at one hundred percent. Shall we make the jump?”

“Are the other ships ready?”

“Report as fully loaded and set to jump.”

“How are the other strike groups reporting?”

“All other groups report at full readiness.”

“Wait for the signal, we don’t jump until I hear the signal from high command.”

“Yes sir, admiral.”

--The Royal Press Room, Nonistan--
The King, a man in his mid fifties, though still sprightly and youthful in appearance, slowly walked to the podium. Flashes from cameras illuminated the air as he prepared to speak to his nation.

”Bravo squadron, begin lining up for a strike run on the battlecruiser to your starboard quadrant. Alphas, follow me in towards that shipyard...”

“Today I have the unfortunate honor to announce to our great nation’s civilian populace what has been known to those of us in command of the armed forces for some time now: the Extra-Solar Union of Systems, a longtime adversary, has finally committed actions which we cannot allow. Though we have for many decades, even as far back as my grandfather’s reign, allowed the ESUS leeway, I can no longer stand by the side and allow them to act this way…”

“All Strike Groups, time zero, repeat time zero, activate countdown now...”

“…Over the past few years, reports have been coming in about the Union’s member nation’s actions. Reports which have been disheartening to my hopes of achieving a lasting, galactic peace. Actions such as I will describe cannot be allowed. Not by a civilized nation such as ours. Not even a barbaric nation would allow these nations, human and non-human, to perform these deeds…”

“All weapons are hot. Targeting engines and bridge with heavy rockets”

“Hold that fire, let up on the throttle, maintain target lock…”

“…I have therefore begun pre-emptive operations against certain members of this unholy Union. While I have hopes that not all the members of this alliance will come to their aide, I recognize that these will likely prompt action against Al-Imvadjah by those who we would rather not enter into conflict with. However, I assure you, that despite the apparent strength of the Extra-Solar Union of Systems, no enemy fleet will approach our territory. All military actions have been planned to protect you, the people. There will be no danger to you, and there will be no mobilization of the home front. The only difference between now, our current state of war, and two days ago, long before this press conference began, is that now you are aware of the possibility that some of you may lose sons or daughters, husbands or wives, fathers or mothers in combat. As of this moment, Al-Imvadjah is at a state of war with the aforementioned nations, and those allies of their that may come to their aide.”

“Weapons free, all squadrons open fire.”

“My God. Look at that thing blow. Score one for the AISF.”
“Good shooting, now move onto the next target before preparing to jump out.”


“Disengage FTL drives, all weapons prepare to acquire targets. Free to fire at will. Take down capships first. Then move on to strategic objectives. You have all been briefed.”


“Encountering light resistance. Returning fire.”
“Enemy sighted, target lock. Direct hit.”
“Enemy down, enemy down, bring batteries to bear on new target. That ship won’t cause anymore trouble.”


“Fire on the planetary defense guns. They’re already hurting so it won’t take much to spark civilian panic. Only one barrage, then we jump out.”