NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: The Mindset is an "old" nation - that is, in the nation's RPed past it has inhabited more territory than it does now. Under the current, more expansionist government, I'm taking The Mindset to war to reclaim some of these territories, hence the title, "Reclaiming Old Haunts." If you are interested in joining this roleplay, please feel free to post. You could be playing a trader on the ground, caught in the crossfire, or perhaps an alien fleet who also happened to decide to invade this world at the same time. Unfortunately, I leave for a four week vacation in a little under two weeks time, so my contribution may drop off as that time approaches.

EDIT: Sorry, I probably should mention that this RP is FT.
* * *

Space in orbit of Thoth, located in the Independent Republic of Rana, tore open in sixteen places. For the briefest of moments, the calm above the planet was broken by hyperbursts of gamma radiation, as a fleet of Mindsetti warships disabled their Gravshunt drives. Looking up from twenty kilometres below, Proz Ira could see bright halos of red, superheated exhaust plasma burning the upper atmosphere. The very centre of each Gravshunt portal was a photonic dead zone – darkness so profound that the backdrop of realspace paled in comparison. Then the sixteen Sonne (http://www.esusalliance.co.uk/forums/viewtopic.php?p=33134#33134) class battleships were suddenly streaking through space at a casual hundred gees, twisting on their axis to align their kinetic weapon banks at the ground below. They were more deadly than any Mindsetti ship the Ranians had ever seen. These ships were the epitome of military brutality, yet somehow achieved a magnificent grace as they effortlessly skimmed the upper atmosphere, leaving thousand-kilometre long scars across the sky.

Proz continued to gaze upwards in awe. His eighteen-year-old eyes were accustomed to the rusting junk his father traded at the planets capital, Frixis. The ancient cargo ships had long ago been top of the line, true pinnacles of Mindsetti practical design, but since the schism spare part supplies from Midna Beta had dried up. Eventually the old ships gave in, and were now being slowly sold for scrap. His father made a decent living and as such, Proz and his family lived a comfortable lifestyle on a planet that saw few cases of such success.

The Empire of The Mindset had granted independence to this small planet some seven hundred years previously, in a “diplomatic gesture” from Prime Pr’Varia Dancos, who had been under pressure from the Rana Mining Corporation regarding the restrictive laws governing their field of work. The Ranians had claimed Midna Beta was accumulating all the wealth while they saw none in reward for their efforts. Pr’Varia had simply told them to go it alone for a while. So they did. And now The Empire was back to reclaim what, in their eyes, was rightfully theirs.

Nestled snugly in the command chair of the Ranian Civil Defence Force ship Praxos, Captain Jarp Orx was shocked out of his stupor by the blaring of the ships proximity alarm. Praxos began overlaying sensor data into his periphery vision as his neural implants activated a dusty old combat program, which prepped his body for the sudden acceleration that took place a few moments later. Soon, Praxos was underway, her engines twisting space as she accelerated to forty gees. Out here in this backwater system, proximity alarms were rare – Rana saw very few traders these days. Space this side of Thoth was too dark for visual images, so he was relying on infrared alone. He ogled as he looked over the data now coming in – sixteen ships, each almost seven hundred metres long caressing the planet in arching curves of vivid pink, none of which making any attempt at stealth. This could only be bad. Jarp Orx’s heart sank. ‘Mindsetti,’ he said.

On the acceleration couch next to him, Taol, the weapons officer, gasped in horror. ‘How did they get here undetected? The voidhole sensor net should have picked them up long before arrival…’

‘We’ve not had contact with them for nearly seven hundred years,’ Jarp retorted. ‘With the Empire’s industrial base, who knows what kind of technology they have now. Those bursts of gamma rays a few minutes ago, maybe they had something to do with it.’ In his mind a black pressure was building, threatening to overcome his training. Praxos had already directly linked his mind to the plasma cannons lining the outer hull of the ship. She was an ugly old thing, outdated even by the lowest standards. Rigged with a fusion engine from some Tlacoz merchants, she had somehow managed to double her weapon output without destroying herself in the process. Regardless, Jarp knew he was outgunned. The ships were almost fourteen times larger than his, and there were sixteen in total.

‘Sir, they’re broadcasting on a narrowband microwave signal. Audio only,’ said Taol, gritting her teeth nervously.

Jarp tensed his shoulders. ‘Let’s hear it.’

A brief buzz of background radiation was followed by a grating, mechanical voice. ‘This is Prime Plaos. You have thirty seconds to surrender before we open fire. Do not sacrifice your life in an attempt to stop us claiming this world. To do so would be foolish. Rana is the property of The Mindsetti Empire. I repeat, stand down or face destruction. You have thirty seconds to comply.'

* * *
http://www.esusalliance.co.uk/mnn.gif
Exclusive image! (http://illspirit.co.uk/deathcometh.jpg)
28 June 5123AD
Breaking News! War declared on the Independent Republic of Rana!

And so it’s official: 'The Independent Republic of Rana' is just another term for 'Mindsetti Rana Colony.'

In a heavily guarded news conference in M-1 today, Gen. Ricardi Flermo, commander of Mindsetti forces now establishing blockade of the Rana system, called the state of conflict there a “war.” Ube Abos, the Mindsetti National News correspondent covering the event, quotes Flermo’s aides noting the general’s choice of words was deliberate – his way of injecting realism into the debate back home. “We are taking the fight into the safe havens of the enemy, in the heartland of their territory, to reclaim what is rightfully ours,” Flermo stated. That sounds like war, all right.

MNN Military analysts have analysed the shocking image above, and can confirm that there is now at least nine Mindsetti Sonne class battleships in orbit of Rana. The Ranian civilian trader ship which took this photo also identifies the ship in the foreground as the RCDF Praxos, captained by Jarp Orx of the Ranian Civil Defence Forces. It is unlikey that they would be able to repel an invasion force this large. The civilian ship that broadcasted this image has since returned to Rana, as per the Mindsetti ship’s orders.

'We’re shocked that the Primes could even consider this course of action,” said Senator Tybalt Origin tonight. “The Mindsetti people are peaceful by nature, imperialistic expansion is not a valid excuse to take the lives of innocent people!'

Despite the Senator’s opposition to this war, MNN opinion polls are currently suggesting that most Mindsetti believe this could only help the stagnation of the Mindsetti economy.

'Rana was once a colony during the golden ages. Perhaps if we reclaim it we can also reclaim that old glory.'

Public officials are currently briefing civilians in case of a retaliatory strike, though MNN military analysts doubt the Ranian military would be capable of such an assault. Stay tuned to MNN for further details as they emerge.

OOC: With your permission......

IC:

Associated Systems Juggernaught Constantine, Flagship of the Fleet, Deep Space Exploration, Milky Way Galaxy

Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its 5-year mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.......

"Oh for Joves sake, turn that crap off! I'm bored enough as it is, if you play that worm-infested piece of trash again I just might have to kill myself."

"Kids today, no respect for the classics. Rice, this show is one of the greatest achievements of 20'th Century Earth. It gave rise to wide-spread interest in the Universe. It paved the way for support of the Moon Launch. Helped advance the research into space flight. Hell, if this show hadn't been around we might all still be stuck in Sol fighting for dominance over Africa or some other piece of land instead of out here, soaring amongst the stars."

"Yeah, and it also paved the way for some truly horrendous acting. If.......it hand't been for..........Kirk we........might actually have been........blessed with a per.........son who tried to.......complete each word within a........single breath. Fat chance of that happening anymore Justin."

Justin Sizemore, ranking officer in the Constantines Officers Lounge, couldn't help but give a brief snort of laughter at the rather excellent Kirk impersonation that Kevin Rice had just performed. If they had been on duty he would have also had to bring Rice up on charges and demoted to something equivelant to a truck driver, but in the the Lounge ranks were left outside and crew were allowed to speak freely. Quickly regaining control of himself he turned to the rest of the Lounges inhabitants and raised his voice.

"Very well, we'll put it to a vote. None of us are due back on duty for at least an hour, so everybody here will have to sit through at least one episode if I press this little 'play' button right here. So, your choice. Who wants to see Kirk seduce another green woman?"

A small chorus of "Aye's" greeted his question, but they were nearly drowned out by the flood of "Hell freaking no!" that came from the throats of nearly everyone in attendance.

"Well, I still outrank you all, so we watch."

Another wave of groans assailed Sizemores ears, but he just grinned to himself and reached for the control anyway.

Attention! Attention! The Constantine is being brought up to Tactical Alert Beta! Attention! Attention! The Constantine is being brought up to Tactical Alert Beta!

The message repeated several more times, and by the time it was done the Lounge had emptied itself of all occupants.

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

"Captain on Deck!"

Sizemore blew through the bridge doors so fast he almost left a smoking trail behind him, snapping a quick salute to Admiral Lino before he turned to the Vid screen that dominated the front wall of the command deck. The Vid screen that was oddly empty, devoid of any hostile ships or threatening objects. Turning back to the Admiral, he didn't even bother to hide his befudlement.

"Sir? There are no hostile ships within the sensor range. Has the Association sent out an Alert?"

"No, Captain. No Alert from the Corps."

"Then why the Beta Alert, sir?"

"We've intercepted an interesting communication Captain, purely by chance it seems."

"A communication, sir? From whom?"

"From The Mindset."

"The Mindset? It rings a bell, sir, but nothing more than that."

"No reason it should, Captain. They briefly joined the Galactic Alliance shortly before its collapse, and the Klonor Empire was briefly a member of the Extra-Solar Union of Systems, which The Mindset founded. Once we withdrew from that Alliance there has been little further communication between us, and virtually no contact."

"Then why have they contacted us, sir?"

"They haven't contacted us. As I said, we intercepted a communication. It was directed at something called Rana, calling for its immediate surrender under threat of invasion."

"Rana?"

"We're not quite sure what Rana is, for all we know it could be a single person or an entire stellar system, but the Admiralty back in Deneb feel that The Mindsets claim to ownership and obvious offensive stance are worth investigating."

"Investigating, sir? Which side are we going to be attacking?"

"Purely informtional, Captain. We know absolutely nothing about this conflict, we've never even heard of one of the participants, and we have absolutely no wish to get involved on any level. We're to interfere in absolutely no way and are to leave the area immediately if there is even the tiniest indication that we will come under fire. We're just going to watch how things go."

"Yes, sir. Do we at least know where it is that this Rana is located?"

"Yes, that we know. We traced the signal we intercepted, the demand for surrender, and have located the system not to far from our current position. That's probably why we were even able to detect it at all, if we were in the Association we wouldn't have heard a damn thing."

"Very well, sir. Shall I get us under way?"

"Yes, Captain. Move us out."

With a small nod to his chief pilot the Constantines massive G/TD drives were engaged and the mammoth vessel accelerated at an uncalcuable rate.

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

"Emergence in three......two......one......now."

With a small pull of a rather innocuous lever the Constantine dropped below the Speed of Light within the system under siege and immediately began scanning for signs of combat.

"Sir, we have located several ships within the system, as well as an inhabited planet sunward from us."

"Distance?"

"The nearest ship is several million kilometers sunward, the inhabited planet is approximately two billion kilometers sunward. We're right on the edge of inter-stellar space."

"Very good Lieutenant. Where's the largest concentration of ships?"

"Directly next to the planet, sir."

"Numbers and class?"

"Class is unknown, sir. Not surprising, considering how long it's been since we've seen any Mindsetti. Numbers are hard to pin down at this range, but I'd make it approximately twenty Capital-class ships."

"Continue scanning."

"Yes, sir."

OOC:

The Constantine:

http://www.bateshome.com/jordan/constant111.jpg

Specs can be found here (http://www.esusalliance.co.uk/forums/viewtopic.php?p=11842#11842)

Jesus Merve stubbed out his cigar angrily, grinding what was left of it into the ashtray with his thumb. ‘Fuck ‘em,” he grumbled to himself. ‘Fuck ‘em.’ He took a deep breath, sucking in the blue soup that passed for air in his cramped stateroom. Sooner of later he’d have to turn the ventilation back on and pull down the plastic bag he’d covered the smoke detector with – otherwise, the life-support stewards would come round and give him the usual polite-but-patronising lecture on shipboard protocol regarding open flames and smoking.

Jesus was pissed. He was so angry that he had to get up and pace, before he gave in to the temptation to start beating crap out of the shabby furnishings he had called his for six months. Six months! Had it really been that long? Six fucking months onboard this shitty little transport ship, bound for some backwater pothole in a universe filled with millions of more interesting sources of news. But that was what Jesus did. He was a reporter for the Mindsetti National News network, and he had just delivered the best news report of his career.

‘Fucking hell,’ he grumbled. ‘Did we really have to start an invasion while I was here?’

* * *

Dawn was racing over Thoth, the white sands of the vast deserts below shining in the morning sun. Prime Plaos’ avatar, a monstrous mechanical nightmare some eight feet tall, was slowly pacing the spacious bridge of the MRN Chaos. ‘Status,’ he commanded.

A bright young officer was quick to respond. ‘Sir, we’ve picked up some strange energy readings from the edge of the system. The pattern isn’t in our databanks.’

Plaos did not alter his speed, but instead sat down on the Captain’s acceleration couch. ‘Focus the aft sensor array on the energy readings location. Scan for any hostile activity.’

The ships hulls had become superheated as they raced across Thoth’s sky at incredible speed. Their thermo-dump panels had been deployed, and they were adding to the firework display that was visible from the ground.

‘Sir, I’m picking up what appears to be a large ship near the energy burst’s location.’

‘What are its specifications?’

‘Difficult to determine at this range, Sir. I’d estimate that it’s approximately seven kilometres long. It is not of Ranian design.’

‘Is there any information in the databanks for its hull class?’

‘We are unable to determine those details at this range, Sir. They are at the edge of the system, visual data will not be available for forty-seven minutes.’

‘Have they detected us?’

‘It is likely.’

‘Broadcast the following message, unencrypted: unknown ship, you are violating Mindsetti territory. Please leave immediately. Thank you for your cooperation.’

‘Transmission has been sent sir.’

* * *

Jarp cancelled his neural implants. The sensor visualisation of the ships faded from his perception, replaced by the spartan grey-green of Praxos' walls. Taol was standing beside him, wearing the dark navy suit of the Ranian Civil Defence Forces, padded on all joints to protect her from the bruising knocks should the artificial gravity fail. He smiled invitingly at her. He could see worry behind her bright, lively eyes.

‘Sir, we have detected further inbound ships. This one is a lot bigger,’ she said.

He sighed, and slipped out of the restraint net as she sat on the edge of the acceleration couch. ‘How big?’

‘Big. At least seven kilometres long.’

‘Great.’

The black-clad lieutenant marched across the room, his boots clicking on the steel plating. Computers clicked and hummed around him, each with a similarly-dressed Skeelzanian hunched over it. Everyone tried to look busy; after all, God was watching.

Coming to the foot of the massive iron and gold throne, the intelligence officer saluted before falling to one knee. "My Lord, your humble servants desire to bring a matter to your attention." The throne's shadowed, even more massive occupant lifted a finger, signalling for him to precede. "The fremden empire of the Mindset is on the march. Their ships have subjugated an independent system, placing it under blockade. Your agents believe that this is but the first step in some larger-"

The officer fell silent as the room rumbled with God's displeasure. Lurching himself out of a slouch, the Monolith leaned forward in his throne to fix the man with his eyes. "The Mindset are cowards, young acolyte. We have fought, and won, more wars in 400 years than they have in their entire history. Their people are soft, and do not possess the will to rule over others. Any action they take is a bluff, nothing more than to restore a political demagogue's flagging popularity. I warn my servants to not make mountains of molehills.

"I beg forgivness my Lord, but your agents do not lie. The Mindset has roused itself from whatever slumber they were in, and now move under arms against an independent system with great force. My overlord fears that they may have discerned our plans, and seek to consolidate themselves before your wrath may reach them."

"Hmm." The shadowed giant leaned back into his throne, a single gauntleted fist remaining on the right arm. For many moments it tapped the throne's arm, as if in thought. "That is a possibility. Acolyte, you have done well to bring this to my attention. Return to your overlord, and inform him that my Will is that he maintains his vigil. We cannot act, yet, but perhaps we will soon. You are dismissed."

"Sir!"

Captain Sizemore and Admiral Lino responded at the same time, both unused to not having sole command of their ship.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"We are receiving a communication from the ships at the interior of the system. It's from the Mindsetti. They are advising us that we are enroching on their territory and should leave immediately. The unstated threat is quite obvious, sir."

"That it is. Orders, Admiral?"

"Are any of the ships a threat to us at present?"

"No, sir. We'll be able to exit the system long before any attack they launch can reach us."

"Let's play it safe. Bring our shields to maximum then open a communications channel."

"Channel open, sir."

"Attention Mindsetti forces, this is Admiral Jane Lino aboard the Associated Systems vessel Constantine. We are here monitoring the situation and have no intention of interfering, our orders are strictly to observe. Please do not attempt to prevent our fulfillment of our mission."

"Channel closed, sir."

"Admiral, if I'm not mistaken, that's not going to make them happy. You've essentially just told them to go to hell. Considering that we're within their territory with no approvement from their government, the odds of combat are disturbingly high. We have specific orders to avoid engaging in battle, your actions actually increase the odds of that happening."

"I'm aware of all this, Captain. Your point?"

"My point, sir, is that I have standing orders to insure the safety and continued security of the Constantine. This ship is important to the Association in and of itself, in addition to the thousands of lives stationed aboard it. I'm not going to thrust this ship into war against twenty-odd other capital ships without a damn good reason. They're not assaulting an Association facility, they're not threatening Klonor citizens, we don't even have any treaties or Alliances with either nation forcing our hand. If you're going to start the fighting, we need a reason."

"Good points, Captain. Helm, keep us right here. I don't want us moving one iota further from the sun. We're not leaving just yet."

"Yes, sir."

Chaos’ weapons officer, a young man – perhaps even a boy – just beginning his professional career as bridge crew, was visibly nervous as Prime Plaos addressed him directly. His tight-fitting outfit did nothing to hide his slight shivers of apprehension as he waited with baited breath for every utterance to come from his superior’s lips. Not that his superior even had lips, though. Prime Plaos was in fact a sentient AI, birthed from civil war almost a generation ago. He, with his brother and father, had conquered The Empire and instituted their “policies of perfection” – assimilate, annihilate, accrue.

Prime Plaos’s avatar was an industrial smelting pot of emergency battle repairs and generations of technology. He still made odd clicking noises if he turned too quickly. Regardless, the weapons officer knew his place: at the feet of the Prime. The Prime deserved his, and his peers, loyalty. It was he who led us into this war – for the glory of all Mindsetti. Despite this, though, he was still slightly scared by the calm, controlled aura Plaos projected into the bridge. Everyone under him knew their place. Everyone did their job. Everyone did their job well, or died. This made sense.

Plaos was once again brooding over his display panel. ‘Begin to charge weapons,’ he said, in his grating, mechanical voice. He made no effort to make eye contact.

The weapons officer snapped to attention. ‘Of course Sir,’ he said, just a little too quickly.

‘Hmm,’ pondered Plaos. “Has the Ranian fleet powered down their weapons yet?’

‘No, Sir. Sensors report that all Ranian ships are still fully battle ready. None have plotted a course to the surface,’ replied the Chaos’ sensors officer.

‘Destroy one.’

‘At once, Sir. Wait… Sir, we are picking up a message from the unknown ship!’

Plaos raised his head a fraction. ‘Go on,’ he grated.

‘The unknown ship identifies itself as from the “Associated Systems.” They have refused to leave the system.’

‘I see. Very well, we have given them long enough. Begin flooding the system with FTLi.’

‘At once, Sir.’

Chaos had gripped Frixis. Proz had barely managed to get home through crowds of the panicking populace. It seemed like all 600,000 Ranians living in the capital had spontaneously decided to protest the Mindsetti-enforced curfew. It was starting to get dark, the sky in the west was creeping towards a deep shade of purple, and the first stars were twinkling above. If you ignored the streaks of superheated plasma now causing Frixis’ streets to glow an eerie orange, the night could’ve been considered nice. Proz was under no such illusions. Exactly two hours previously, he had been lying in his farmland with some friends, gazing at the stars, wishing he could travel amongst them like his ancestors. Now he was struggling his way through bustling and angry crowds of frightened people, shoving all-sorts out of his way – from young children to the cities homeless bums, drunk now, and raving.

His family, like all original colonists, had been assigned land on which to grow basic crops. Despite his father’s relative success in the scrap business, Proz still maintained the farmland, as it provided cereal crops for about half the population of the planet. Proz was a hard worker, and he was easily fitter than anyone surviving on the gyms in the city. The farmland was located about eighty miles outside Frixis, but the family home was in the capital. So, the first thing Proz did when he saw the streaks of charred atmosphere running across the sky was to get in his truck and drive home. And that’s how he got here – crowds had forced him to abandon the truck a few miles back. The Mindsetti hadn’t landed yet, and they were still out of range of the planet’s anti-ortillery guns. Despite this, they’d still somehow managed to hack into the datanet and broadcast a message on all channels, continuously, since the invasion began:

‘Citizens, go home, stay calm. We are here to reclaim our territory. Please do not obstruct the intent of the Prime. Do not leave your homes until further contact is established. I repeat, this is the Mindsetti battleship Chaos. Prepare to surrender.’

‘Yeah,’ thought Proz. ‘Damn fucking right, Chaos.’

OOC: FYI: Based on your description of Mindsettian FTLi in the ESUS Showroom I don't see how it'd have any effect on G/T D travel. Sub-Space, sure, but not the back-up system the Constantine used to get here in the first place.

IC:

The Constantine maintains its position and continues to monitor the situation.

OOC: Wow, my OOC comment was longer than my IC post. How sad. But seriously, there's not much for me to post right now. It's just them sitting there and not doing anything differently than they were five minutes ago.

OOC: Well, it's up to you if you want the FTLi to affect you. It's also being used to block the Ranian ships, which use older Mindsetti FTL. I've got a fairly busy day today, so I may not get to post.

Nedo Ira was out in the Ira farmland with one of the autotractors that had stalled. His children, Ludu and Sendros were with him, keen to help with the repair operation. Their idea of assistance didn’t exactly match that of Nedo, as they charged up and down the cornrows, with dogs barking at their heels excitedly. The huge lurching machine had come to a standstill when its archaic control software realised that the corn was no longer sliding through the central hopper. Its various mechanical arms had consequently frozen in various stages of removing cobs from stalks.

‘Look at that, Dad,’ Ludu called.

Nedo pulled the last few shreds of corn from the feeder mechanism, and looked up. Someone was driving along the valley’s packed stone road at ridiculous speed.

‘Fucktard,’ he grunted. The control panel clipped back into place with a loud snap; he gave the machine a hearty slap with his hand, just for luck, and turned the autotractor back on.

‘They’re coming here, Dad,’ Sandros yelled out.

The car came to a halt beside Nedo’s old pickup; and the suspension lowered itself back down from the extended rough-ride position. A door opened in the side, and Jos Omen, owner of the farm four kilometres down the road, stepped out. Nedo was just about to say ‘nice car’ when Jos shouted ‘EVERYBODY GET DOWN!’

The dog was going berserk, barking and jumping up and down. ‘In the sky, my eyes hurt, I can only see purple…’ Sandros was writhing in pain on the ground.

Nedo’s implants crashed. The sky to the south had turned a dazzling white. ‘Damn, what the fuck…’ The autotractor died again. The smear of light above the mountains was draining away to leave the normal blue. Then a vivid rose-gold sun climbed up from behind the peaks, its surface writhing with webs of black fire. It cast long, dark shadows across the ground.

‘Holy shit,’ Nedo murmured.

The new sun was rising on a stalk of brilliant raging flame. The tops of the mountains looked like they were vibrating as the snowy peaks flash boiled.

‘They nuked us,’ Jos shouted in awe. ‘They started with kinetic harpoons.’ He could see the mushroom cloud swelling outwards, its colour darkening, deepening as it spread its bruised perimeter across the sky. Then the soundblast reached them.

"Sir, we're detecting numerous launches from the capital ships in orbit around the interior planet. They're heading towards the planet......oh, shit!"

"What is it?"

"Sir, we're detecting several kiloton+ blasts, computer suggest probably from nuclear armaments."

"So?"

"Sir, we're detecting the explosions on the planet!"

"Are you serious? Recheck the system."

"I have, sir. There's no doubt about it, the explosions are on the planets surface."

The Captains mouth just hung open at that, unable to comprehend something of that magnitude. Nuclear weapons weren't anything new to spacial warfare, they were practically commonplace and used with the same frequency as Beam Cannons and Laser Turrets, but to use one on planet was something else entirely. Millions would die in each explosion, in all probability the majority of them would be civilians, too. Incalcuable resources would also become unusable, plants and animals and precious metals suddenly irradiated and either impossible or costly to use afterwards. Nuclear warfare on dry ground was something every Klonor citizen dreaded.

"Dear God......Dispatch, ready two Elysium transports. I want decontamination squads prepped in ten minutes. Launch as soon as they're ready, then--"

"Belay that order."

"Admiral? There are people dying down there, sir. Now we might not be in this war, but we can at least try to stave off radiation poisoning of the entire planet."

"We have orders to stay here and observe, and to avoid interfering at all costs. Now I don't care if it was a damn Harbinger that touched off down there, we're not doing a damn thing."

"Admiral, surely you ca--"

"Captain, utter one more word and I'll have you demoted. We're staying here. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

"If you'll excuse me, sir, I'll retire to my quarters."

"Very well, Captain. You're excused."

"Thank you, sir."

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

As soon as he was outside the bridge Captain Sizemore slammed his fist into the wall and dented the floor with his boot, then sagged to the side and sighed.

I hate when they keep me out of the loop.

The Admiral could talk all he wanted about being dispatched to 'observe', but it was pretty damn obvious that he had some secret orders. They wouldn't be out here for a damn good reason, and just watching a war between two nearly complete strangers wasn't nearly enough of a reason. A single Fasutus research ship would be able to monitor this situation at 1/10 of the cost to the Association and would leave the Corps most powerful vessel free for something that it was actually designed for.

"Captain? Sir? Are you okay?"

The probing question from the passing Ensign snapped him out of his funk.

"I am, Roberts. Move along."

"Yes, sir."

He might have some agenda or another, but until he clues me into their existence I have no respondiblity to obey them. I do, however, have standing orders already in play.

Walking over to the nearest door he pressed several buttons inlaid against the frame and stepped through into the communications hub approximately half a kilometer away.

"Sir?"

It wasn't customary for a ships commanding officer to personally bring messages to the comm staff, normally he gave his orders to the bridges comm officer and that officer would relay it. The confusion on the faces of the rooms occupants implied this quite easily.

"Lieutenant, engage the SSS."

"Sir?"

"You heard me."

"SSS engaged, sir."

"Good. Now we wait."

OOC: Though I don't have time to make an IC post just now, I thought you should know the details of the planet I'm attacking. The total population is probably around 2 million, with 600,000 of those living in the capital city, Frixis. The rest live in scattered rural outposts, which is what we're nuking just now, so we can take the capital with ground troops (about 4,800), heading from the countryside into the city from all directions. The dropships can only land in water without damaging themselves, so some troops will take longer than others to move into position for the final assault. In addition to this, the blasts are about 10 kilotons (rather than megatons) each. You could probably explain your sensor's mistakes in one creative way or another. This will cause climate change, but it's mostly the industral center of the city and the mines in the mountains that we're after. Oh, and they're not strictly nukes - they're kinetic harpoons. They're basically artificial meteorites, and as such give off much less radiation than a true nuke.

OOC: Ah. Gotcha.

Jesus ordered a light salad from room service before stripping from his heavy jacket down to jeans and a thin, black t-shirt. He tied his long hair back in a simple loose tail, scraping it back with a blunt comb. One of the scowling housemaids brought the salads while he was splashing about in the bathroom, shaving his three-day-old beard. She spent a minute or so clearing away the rubbish that had collected around the room, then silently left, the door clicking quietly behind her.

He picked at the salad for a while, sorting out his thoughts, then ordered his implants to connect him to the Ranian long-distance communications array. Rather than the expected instant connection to MNN headquarters in Midna Beta, he was greeted by a screech of static. It seemed the network was down.

His implants, infinitely more advanced than those of the local residents, blinked a furious icon in his peripheral vision. He subconsciously motioned for the file to open, and the implant AI’s voice began to speak into his ear. ‘Get down on the floor behind the bed,’ it told him.

‘What?’

‘There is no time for an explanation. The bed will provide cover from broken glass. Move. Now. I will try and maintain my operational status, though I cannot guarantee it. I am not adequately shielded from EMP.’

Jesus dived for the bed. There was a brilliant flash of light outside, and the hotel window exploded inwards. Luckily, Frixis’ cityshield enabled only a fraction of a second too late, and managed to block most of the blast.

* * *

It took Nedo twenty minutes, but he managed to get the old pickup working again. Half the circuitry had burned out, and he had had to bypass dozens of electronic components. Jos and his kids had spent the time packing food and water into the cars boot.

‘I think the datagrid is coming back online,’ said Jos. ‘I can get a connection with Frixis, but can’t access any commands. I’m locked out.’

‘Yeah, the network can take much worse than this. The cables are semi-organic compounds, designed to self-repair should something happen. The genetic algorithms of the network should be finding new routes into the central datagrid,’ said Nedo. ‘Can you get your implants to reboot?’

‘No, but a screen survived in my car, I was able to type commands,’ he replied.

‘It’s going to rain soon, we should get moving.’

‘Agreed.’

The sky was turning a murky grey, with occasional flashes of orange and white lacing through the thick clouds. The ground shook occasionally, followed afterwards by monstrous thunderclaps.

‘They’re still fucking nuking us,’ said Jos in disgust. ‘We should try to get to Frixis. The cityshield should be able to hold them back for a while.’

Just then, a bolt of lightning struck not far from where they were standing, and it began to rain. Heavy rain.

* * *

‘Oh fuck,’ said Proz as he took in the sight. He felt dizzy and faint, needing to hold onto the nearest wall for support. It wasn’t the bodies lying on the ground, mangled by shards of glass. It wasn’t the teams of medics desperately trying to treat thousands who had been caught in the blasts. It was the blood. The ground was red and sticky with the blood of Rana.

Proz bent double and vomited.

He made his way down towards the spaceport, near the seafront, his boots making sloshing noises in the mixture of blood, vomit and glass littering the streets.

‘Proz?’ a man called. ‘Proz! Wait, Proz!’

Proz turned to look in the direction of the calls. ‘Dad! Oh thank God you’re okay. Where are Ludu and Sendros? Are they okay?’

Nedo was wiping tears from his eyes. ‘They’re fine, son. Come on, we need to get out of here and into the industrial district. The cityshield is strongest there.’

‘Dad, we should go to the spaceport, see if there’s any evacuation ships,’ Proz replied. He was reluctant to go back to the industrial centre – the blood there was mixed with charred flesh.

‘Yeah, okay. That sounds like a good plan. Jos! Over here!’

* * *

‘Captain! The Mindsetti ships are nuking Thoth!’ yelled Taol in utter disgust.

Captain Jarp onboard the Praxos hesitated.

‘Sir, we have to do something! This is genocide!’

She started sobbing. ‘Sir… My family, their farm was a direct hit.’

‘Contact the rest of the fleet. Rendezvous at these coordinates,’ said Jarp, motioning towards a point at the Thoth Lagrange point. ‘We may be able to use the moon for cover. Get half the fleet behind it, and tell them to go to stealth mode. Cut all emissions, you know what I mean. We’ve got ten minutes. Get moving, people! Taol, prep the maser cannons. I want full power the instant I say ‘fire.’ Got it?’

‘Yes, sir!’

* * *

Plaos was stroking the arms of his couch. Bombardment had been underway for six minutes. Soon, he’d land the 4,800 Mindsetti Special Forces on the planet, and … “pacify” the population.

‘Sir,’ called Renus, the weapons officer. ‘The Ranian fleet is moving into position. They’re going to launch an attack soon.’

‘Hold position until all harpoons have been launched. We can take their puny attacks, for now.’

‘But, Sir!’ Renus began.

Plaos rose from his chair, arching over the weapons console. ‘Do you doubt your Prime, Renus?’

‘Uh, no, Sir!’

‘Do not question my orders again, Renus, or I shall have your skin removed.’ Plaos sat down again. ‘Begin marine deployment. Target the costal areas. I want the spaceport taken first.’

‘At once, Sir.’

* * *

Nedo’s whole skeleton was thrumming painfully. The sky above was in torment, the clouds writhing, savaged by the constant bombardment from orbit. Screams and shouts of panic were coming from all around. Thirty kilometres away, towards the sea, the clouds were spouting funnels of white light unlike anything seen so far. He watched the bulges slowly descend through the sky, and then impact somewhere in the sea. A huge column of steam rose into the atmosphere. The roar was incredible. It grew steadily louder as more and more white lights appeared from above.

‘Plasma drives,’ Proz screamed above the thunder in awe. ‘Those are dropships coming down. We need to get as far away from them as possible, we should turn back.’

Nedo grabbed hold of Proz as he tried to run back up the street. ‘No! We need to find a ship and get off this planet!’

‘Don’t you see? They’re coming!’ screamed Proz. ‘We’re not going to get to the spaceport before being shot at.’

Panic was beginning to rise once again. People were beginning to run for cover from the intense heat now radiating from the plasma drives.