NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: I'm baaaaaaaaaaack.....mwhahahahaha.... Ok seriously, this is a rehash of the RP stary arc I had before just before I quit. I personally think that if it comes to fruitition, it will be the best work of mine ever on NS.

This particular arc will be devided into 5 parts, and will focus on the darkside of the Atlantian people. After that, I will go into a "stand alone" RP dealing with this, before heading into the 4 part "Atlantian Civil War"/"Evil Atlantian Empire vs. Rebellion" arc, which will wrap everything up. Now here's to hoping that some people take pity on an old geezer like me and give me one last go-around. :p Pwease?

IC:

Sol Asteroid Belt

An Atlantian Phoenix class cargo ship slowly made its way from the Kuiper Belt towards the star of this system, Sol. Secrecy was of the up most importance. No Terran...for that matter, no one in general, must know about the contents of the cargo ship.

Suddenly, however, the power in the ship went out. Everything except auxiliary lights and life supports where offline.

“What the Hades?” the commander looked around the bridge. Something wasn’t right. “What in the name of the gods is going on?!”

“Main power is out on all decks” said one of the officers.

“No shit” the Commander got out of his seat, obviously very frustrated. He had a tight schedule to keep, and couldn’t be caught asleep on the job. This was probably the most important mission the Atlantian Federation had to offer at this time...and the most secret. Only the higher ups new of this. And even then, not even half the Senate knew of the happenings here.

He couldn’t risk a distress signal, that could alert non-informed Atlantian vessels....or even worse, an alien vessel. Prehaps a Terran vessel. The Commander shuddered at the thought of Terrans crawling all over the ship. To quote the Elarians—Damn Pinkskins.

“Any idea what caused the power outage?” asked the Commander.

“Wiring malfunction?” one suggested.

“Could be” the Commander said “You two, get down to engineering. I want to know our status”

“Yes sir” the two he had pointed at immediately left the bridge. As they made their way down the dimly lit interiors, they could have sworn they heard voices.

“Oh no...” said the first one

“You hear that too?” asked the second one “Not good...”

“They’re free...”

As they turned around...well...that was the last they ever saw.

After about fifteen minutes, the Commander got tired of waiting. He started to leave the bridge, looking for his missing officers. However, as he stepped though the doorway, he got caught. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Within seconds, the rest of the bridge crew was dead. Hell...the entire ship was dead...except for them...

Stinger-II Class Fighters swooped in and out of fighters, hunting their prey... a light pirate raider. Ion blasts spiked throught space, missiles following behind.

The radier's engine core shut down from the faux-overloads the AI was recieving. The fighters never had a chance to place it in tow, before it collided with a medium sized asteroid.

[i]"Alpha-One to Apollo. We're clear. Radier hit a rock. Gonna run a sweep. They may have buddies out here."

"Roger One. Gold Wing is availible if you run into trouble."

"Affirmative. Out."[i]

The four fighters twisted and dove around a large asteroid. They were among the few groups in the solar system that dared to treat the asteroid belt as a playground. To the rest, it was an obstical or hiding place. To fighter pilots and the occasional Belt Runner, it was there for their enjoyment.

OOC: Good to see you back. The four fighters can take down lightly armed ships, but a freighter has a fighting chance against four, if it has decent defences. And the Apollo is a control scoutship, meant to sit 'above' the belt and coordinate the fighter wings inside the belt.

Battlestation 10 - Kuiper Belt

The meeting contained only a handful of people.

Commander Don, in charge of the station, sat at the end of the table. To his right was Senator Varox, now leader of the Atlantian Senate. Senator Xolon sat across from both of them. To his right was Admiral Si, in charge of the second fleet. At the other end of the conference table sat Senator Relge, and Commander Tull, leader of the Federation’s science division. The six where discussing what should be done about the missing freighter.

“Let it drift” said Don “Its not worth our time. Besides, no one would ever know what was going on”

“You sir, are a moron” Tull replied “How did you ever get in charge of this base?”

“Why you little....” Commander Don got out of his seat. He cast a threatening glare at Tull “How dare you insult my work!”

“Gentlemen” said Relge, in a commanding tone “Sit down. Fight out your high testosterone levels elsewhere” She looked at both of them. Tull sat down slowly, both still glaring at each other.

“Now” Senator Varox asked, getting back to business “What are our options?”

“We have to reclaim the freighter” said Si “If anyone else gets realizes what the freighter contains, all of our entire foreign relations will be as good as void”

“Why did we even decide on sending them into the Terran’s sun? Why didn’t we just toast the prisoners in one of our own?” asked Xolon

“Its the principle of the thing” said Tull “Would YOU want those things in your sun?”

“Wouldn’t bother me” Xolon replied.

Si shook his head “We shouldn’t even be doing this. It’s morally wrong. Atlantis prides itself in the fact that we are above most other species. This proves that we are below”

“Bullshit” said Relge, butting heads again “This is the only way. They are revolting, and causing genetic diseases. Our new enzyme will render those non-sentient ingrates non-useful”

“Do NOT insult me!” Said Si “In case you haven’t noticed, I outrank you, Commander. Besides, you’re supposed genetic diseases only began occurring AFTER your project started”

“Are you implying that I am responsible for this mess?” asked Relge, angrily “I am trying to SAVE our people!”

“I’m not implying anything, Commander” said Si “I was merely voicing facts. Just like the fact that they are rebelling may discredit the “non-sentient” theory”

“How dare you...” he began.

Senator Varox cut him off “Regardless. We are too far along in the plan now. We must finish this. To that end, I am requesting a ship to intercept the freighter’s last location”

“What are the freighter’s orders?” asked Si, preparing to continue the order on.

“To destroy the freighter, and all traces of it”

“And if there are other ships in the area investigating it?”

Varox sighed “Destroy them as well. Leave no traces of us or them”

“And the Olympia? They are in the area, and they don’t know about the mission”

“Commander Vega, although extremely loyal, is none-the-less “Self-righteous”. If he interferes...destroy them”

************

The Atlantian Battleship Argo approached the last location of the freighter, cloaked. Their mission—to destroy anything in the area that was man-made.

The ISF Iron Fist, a Maleus class frigate, cruised through the void towards the immobilized freighter. It was an old ship, its hull scarred from a long career in the service of the Imperium. Despite the vessel's age, it bore the marks of the Akatoni shipyards. The bow armor was dramatically curved, ending in a largely ornamental ram spike. Its sides were lined with gun decks, the shining barrels of railguns extending from gothic arches. At the rear, the gilded superstructure of the bridge towered above the hundred-meter frigate.

On the bridge, Captain Wilhelm Sark stared at the primary holo-imager, displaying a vessel drifting a few thousand kilometers ahead. The Iron Fist had been cruising the outer reaches of the solar system for the past four months, searching for a derelict grand dreadnought sought by the Cult Mechanicus. To the captain's right, Brother Armand, the ship's tech priest, regarded the freighter with interest. The captain muttered in discontent, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Why do we have to investigate every one of these damned things?"

The priest frowned.

"That's blasphemy. The only thing damned here is you. I shouldn't have to remind you that one of these derelicts is a massive holy warship that must be recovered."

Sark sighed, turning away from the holo-imager and shouting across the bridge.

"Helmsman, set course to intercept that drifter."

The young officer saluted his captain

"Aye sir, all ahead full."

~To be converted into better post later

OCC:If it wasn't for this damned fever I'd be typing up a post but other than that I'll type when I wake up

The diamond slot formation of fighters arched above an Everest sized rock and inverted. "We got something. No signals, but there's a ship there."

"Could be a frigate. Might be a victim."

"Apollo. We have an Unidentified Silent Running Craft. Requesting Gold Wing assist and a rundown of any fleet ships of cruiser size or above patrolling the belt."

"Roger Alpha. Gold is being deployed. Fleet in the area are the Phantom, Lightning, Hunter and Fist of God. Hunter is closest."

"Fist of God? What the hell is that?"

"Dreadnought. It's supposed to be some experimental design."

"Roger, Alpha Wing out."

The four fighters arched towards the freighter, sleek craft accelrating past the imfamous hulk of the Forge. The massive station was now part of an asteroid, a testament to how dangerous living in an asteroid belt was.

For the Olympia, it was just a normal patrol in the Sol system. Little did they know that just a few kilo’s away, the fate of he entire Atlantian Federation lay dead in space.

“Sir” said Sing, monitoring the scanners “We’ve detected a dead freighter near here. It seems to have an Atlantian configuration”

Vega nodded “Set a course, lets see if they need any help. Sing, send out a message to the ship”

“Ay sir” she did as she was ordered “Sir, there is no response. I think it’s completely dead”

**********

Onboard the freighter, they where still alive, trying to regain control of the vessel.

“You take apart wire, ship die, put it back together!”

“It back together! It back together, I tell you!” it pointed at the wire, tied together in a bow.

“Not like that! Must reform!” another one undid the tie, and began trying to reconnect the wire.

“Other wires also need to be fixed!” said another.

**********

Both the Olympia and the Argo approached the location of the dead vessel, one cloaked, the other not.

An officer on the Argo started to pick up other ships entering the area “Four Crimmond fighters...one unknown frigate...and the Olympia”

“Shit” Commander Selkon muttered “When they get in range, send out a message to all ships”

“Yes sir”

Aboard the Iron Fist, the sensor officer was alerted by a flashing warning light on his readout. Rechecking the sensor data, he called across the bridge.

"Captain, we have five contacts incoming on our position."

Sark turned to the officer.

"Get the etheric scopes on them, I want visual confirmation."

The sensor officer entered a series of coordinates on a control panel. He

"Looks like... four fighters and a freighter, all unidentified."

The captain swore to himself, considering his options. The frigate was powerful for its size, but it hadn't been properly maintained in years, hardly a front line combat vessel. He had to avoid battle if possible, but caution never hurt.

"Patch it through to the main viewer, tactical overlay. Raise the shields and send out a general hail. If they don't respond, power up the weapons batteries."

The hail was noted and relayed to the Apollo, who responed instead.

The fighters you read are under the command of the Crimmond Third Fleet and are on standard patrol, currebtly investigating a wounded freighter.

The Argo sent out the following message to all ships in the area:

Attention, curious vessels. This is the Atlantian battle cruiser Argo. Your curiosity is well deserved, but it is futile. Don’t bother scanning for us, we’re cloaked. And long before you could locate us, we could blow a good sized hole in your shields. At any rate, I strongly suggest you turn your ships around NOW. This you’re only warning. There is nothing in this freighter, nor does it contain anything of value for you.

The Olympia picked up the message as the ship came into visual range of the frighter.

“Who the hell…” Vega looked at different members of his crew, looking for answers. However, none of them seemed to know either, as most of them shrugged when looked at.

“Return the message” said Vega.

Attention Argo. We believe we can handle the situation more…diplomatically then you just did. No offense, captain

On the Argo, Commander Selkon listened to the reply from the other Atlantian vessel. Furious, he replied:

Olympia, this is not your place. Now either leave or you shall be fired on as well

Argo, you are in direct violation of Atlantian chain of command. Do NOT threaten-

Vega stopped as the Argo, a Laviathan class battleship, same as the Olympia, suddenly decloaked right in front of the Olympia.

This is your final warning Olympia. Stand down and withdraw

Kiss our hullplating

Before Selkon could reply with weapons fire however, the freighter came to life. The Argo fired a plasma blast at the ship, as it returned fire with an Orcialic Beam Cannon. It flew off, the Argo trailing….and leaving an utterly confused Commander Vega alone with his ship.

"What the holy flying f-"

"Belay that, Three. Alpha-One to Apollo, it's the damn Atlantians again. Shooting at each other, no less. We're pulling back into the belt. You might want to inform those cruisers."

"Atlantians? Dammit. I didn't sign up to handle those gun polishing drifters. Informing the cruisers and the Fist of God."

---------

The Lightning, a battlecruiser, was cruising below the belt and immediately began pursuit of the two Atlantian ships, shields and weapons powering up as it accelerated past the Olympia.

The Fist of God was a good ways away though, the hip swinging about and sending out an extremely powerful pulse of energy, that carried with it a clear audio message. Atlantian vessels. You are ordered to remove yourselves from Sol space and take your shiny ass ships back to wherever the hell you came from.

Seems that the Atlantian reputation was dragging through the mud with teh Crimmond Fleets...

Both the Olympia and the Argo where Leviathan, a generation two design. As relations between Crimmond and Atlantis began to degrade, the Senate had voted to create newer classes of ships designed to counter the faster Crimmond vessels. Replacing the Titan class, the Leviathan was THE most powerful ship in the Atlantian navy, and only ten existed...five of them in mothballs...

The ancient Phoenix class freighter was a different story. Its aging hull quickly buckled under the pressure of the Argo’s assault, and the engines died.

“Sir, we have crippled the ship, and-“ a message was coming in “Sir, I have a Crimmond response, audio only”

“On screen”

Atlantian vessels. You are ordered to remove yourselves from Sol space and take your shiny ass ships back to wherever the hell you came from.

“Sir, a Crimmond battlecruiser is tailing us, their weapons are armed”

Selkon growled “Fire a warning shot off their bow”

“Ay sir”

As the Argo let loose a single plasma burst at the Lightning, it also shot out a tractor beam at the freighter, keeping it from continuing to drift.


Meanwhile, the crew of the Olympia sat confuzzled.

Finally, Vega broke the confusion “Xol, power up shields and weapons. We’re bringing the Argo in”

“Sir?” asked Xol, knowing well that the Argo was a perfect match for the Olympia.

“You heard me, Lt. Now do it”

“Ay sir”

The Olympia powered up for combat, and headed off in the direction of the other ships, the latest in the long parade...

“Sir, I’m getting a message from the Crimmond vessel “Fist of God”” Sing noted “Its only audio”

“Play it” ordered Vega.

The message played, and the crew looked at each other.

“Open a channel to the Fist of God” Vega said.

“Done. Your on the air sir” replied Sing.

“Attention “Fist of God”, you have no right to order us around in neutral territory. And last I remember, Sol’s asteroid belt was just that. Now if you excuse us, we have both a renegade ship and a wounded freighter to bring in. We don’t need trouble from you”

The dreadnought continued to accelerate towards the Olympia, shields and weapons coming online. A visual came over. "You people despise this star system. It's a known fact. Why we keep finding you in it is, to say the least, aggrevating and quite baffling. If it will get you to leave, we will assit you in the destruction of your rebels." The communication cut out.

The Lightning shook from the near shot, and responded by actually closing the gap a bit, accelerating more quickly. Despite the power and size differnce, let alone the age... The Lightning had been in service for nearly a decade now... the ship continued to pursue.

"What the hell was that?"

Captain Sark looked on in confusion as the Argo de-cloaked. He listened to their message, but before he could send a response, the transport he had thought to be a floating wreck came online and fired upon the Atlantian battleship. As first the Argo, then the other ships, accelerated to chase the freighter, the captain shouted his orders across the bridge.

"Red alert! All crew to battle stations. Bring the main guns online and set a course to follow the transport. Comm officer, alert Fleet Command as to our status."

The Iron Fist's engines flared, the vessel cruising after the Olympia. Railgun turrets activated, tracking the Atlantian battleships. It was painfully obvious that the frigate lacked the firepower to threaten such massive ships, leaving it no choice but to retreat should it find itself engaged in full battle. As the frigate moved off towards the other ships, a coded request for aid was sent to the fleet bases in orbit of Terra.

The frigate cut power to its engines at a safe distance from the larger warships, the Captain being content to observe for the time being.

OOC: I don't have time to post tonight....just bumping this up in case someone else wants to join in

A republic in turmoil means danger for an Emperor. It was an old saying that started during the decade war some 2,000 years ago as a simple reason for an Emperor’s need to draft so many soldiers. While there hasn’t been a draft since that time, and there has not been another civil war, it seemed now that Emperor Indus Reyburn surrounded himself with an impenetrable amount of men. He no longer sat on his throne in the Grali Itas (Grand Hall), and Rigard Castle itself seemed very empty. Indus Reyburn chose the most secure thing within the Eurydian Republic to control the angry masses: The Terminus Command Dreadnought.

The city sized craft held more weaponry than a fleet, and while it was nearly 80 years old, the Terminus had undergone numerous upgrades to its systems. The ship looked like a gigantic spearhead, but more resembled an iron fist to the colonies outside of Eurydice itself. The colonies were causing the trouble this time. Conconi, Corsica, Intari, Geneva, and even the once loyal Royal Navy. Nearly a billion people no longer wanted any part of the Republic. Their anger didn’t show itself through violence or protests, but it boiled under the surface, everyone knowing that at any moment it could boil over.

And so Emperor Reyburn sat, a man in his mid 70’s with a bald head and a frail body. Tiny, bonelike hands jutted out of his large cloak and his head bobbed involuntarily, the Parkinson disease doing its slow, terrible work. Reyburn sat on his throne, directly behind and above the captains chair of the Terminus, overlooking everything on the massive bridge. In charge of the vessel itself (and of the entire Imperial Guard) was Admiral Tigris Block, a thin man of about 40 whose face held more contempt for the heretics than the Emperor itself. About 60 other men and women milled about the bridge, looking like a colony of ants to Reyburn.

The Emperor, whose voice still carried authority, called out to Admiral Block. “Tigris, have you the latest reports on Royal Navy movement within the Republic?”

Block swivled around in his chair and nodded. “Yes sir, it appears that Admiral Ajax underestimates our intelligence. We’ve spotted them near Conconi about a week ago, and again near Geneva roughly two days ago. They seem to be jumping from place to place, avoiding the Terminus and our fleets.”

“Indeed.” Reyburn said. He rubbed his temple with his bony hand. “How is Geneva faring anyways? Any word on the plague?”

Tigris tapped one of the consoles on his armrest, and brought up the needed information. “There’s reports of widespread death within the major cities. Even the smaller towns are succumbing to the plague. Over 3 million dead so far.”

“Mortality rate?”

“95 percent…” Tigris shook his head. “We are lucky this thing hasn’t spread. Do we know where it came from?”

Reyburn shrugged. His head bobbed up and down slightly while he thought. “We have nothing but guesses at this point. Perhaps we’ll know soon enough.”

[ooc: this will all make sense soon enough I think. I’ll just read along and find a way to jump in.]