NationStates Jolt Archive

Forty stories up. Partial sea-side view.

Xol sighed. It was a pity he didn’t get to spend as much time home at his apartment as he wished. It really was beautiful. Even more so during the sunrise in which the sun would come over the sea to the right of his window, bathing the Atlantian cityscape to the left in golden light. Sometimes when he was home he’s get up early just to watch it. He had enjoyed the last year.

“What time is it?” asked a voice. Xol turned around from his large window. Sing was standing at the door to the room, rubbing her eyes. She had quite plainly just woken up.

“A little after six” he said, turning back to the window.

“Don’t you sleep?”

“Space heroes don’t need to sleep” Xol smirked.

Sing rolled her eyes as she headed back out. “Whatever you say, space cowboy. I’ll be in the kitchen making some coffee”

Xol never understood why she loved the black drink. He had tasted it and spit it right back out. Sometimes Terrans made some of the most revolting beverages ever. Like whatever that beer stuff was supposed to be. He preferred Elarian Ale for intoxication.

He stretched, taking in the sunrise. He knew he had to report to the launchpad in five hours for transport to the Olympia. After over a year, the Olympia, Atlantis’s most famous ship, was ready for active duty again. Xol smirked. For several months they had been continuously pounded on by enemy Ascendency forces wishing for nothing more then their demise. They’d kept the ship together with little more then spare hull plating.

He sighed. At least he had packed the night before…now he had the whole morning to himself before the mission, which would take him far away from Atlantian space for who knew how long.

Well..time to himself and his wife. He walked into the kitchen to find Sing doing just what she said she would be doing—making coffee. Xol shrugged to himself. The taste might suck…but he had to admit, he liked the smell.

“Want some?” she asked.

“Are you crazy?” he replied.

She shrugged. “Not my fault you don’t like fine tastes”

He opened a cabinet and pulled out a loaf of bread. “Yes…because black bubbling liquids fully constitute as “fine tastes”

She giggled as he placed some bread into the toaster. The phone in the corner beeped. He moved over and turned it on. The thin screen popped out of the counter, revealing a very familiar face.

Achilles gave a small salute while smiling. “Hello lover’s lane” he joked.

“What do you want this early?” Xol asked. “We don’t have to pretend to like you for another five hours”

“Funny” he replied. “I was just curious if you two would be up for some last minute fun. I hear there’s a special at Izari’s. Goran and I are going”

Izari’s was a small resteraunt nearby, and one of Achilles’s favorite spots. Xol smiled. “Ok...what time?”

…

The ship was still mostly empty. He wasn’t sure if he liked the peace, or if was unsettling.

Admiral Vega made his way down the corridors of the refurbished Olympia. No longer a burning wreck of a vessel, it was now once again a top of the line capital ship, measuring out at about one and a half kilometers. He was truly proud of this vessel.

“Good morning sir!”

Vega stopped and turned around. “Lt. Thall? What are you doing here so early?”

“Some last minute checks over the systems. I don’t trust dock engineers”

Vega inwardly chuckled. Obsessive Compulsive as always.

“Neither do I” a female voice said over the intercom. “I know for a fact they left a sandwich in my sub-main power relay converter. Have someone check that out for me, if you will”

“Will do, Shara” Thall said, smiling. He spoke to Vega. “What the mistress of the ship commands, I must obey”

Vega returned the smile. “Then best not to keep the brain behind the ship waiting. She might get testy”

“I heard that”

Thall stopped a few feet away. He spun around as Vega began to resume his walk.

“Oh…and if you see our new science officer…tell her she owes me a new tricorder” he turned and left, leaving a slightly puzzled admiral behind.

…

Everything had been assembled. The entire crew had reported in, and all the supplies had been loaded onto the ship.

Admiral Vega prepared to address his crew from his captain’s chair.

“Open a channel across the ship”

“Aye sir. Channel open”

“Attention crew of the Olympia. Some of you have served under me before…some of you are new to my command. I do not expect much, just that you do your jobs well, as any member aboard a flagship of a fleet should act.

Our mission is one of exploration. We will begin our journey in the Sol system, and then move from there as warranted. We shall engage in relations with new political entities and species, as well as chart new star systems and anomalies.

I’ve never been one for speeches, so I’ll end this one here. Prepare to move out.”

Sing, at navigation, turned to face the admiral.

“The dockmaster’s giving us the signal. We’re all clear to leave spacedock”

Vega smiled. “Then ahead full. One quarter impulse”

And so it begins…

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http://img526.imageshack.us/img526/2129/laviathanbattleship3mi.jpg

Olympia stats:

Leviathan class Dreadnought
1.5 Km
1,300 total crew
Energy Shields
Cloak
Ablative Armor
25 Pulse Orcalic Laser Turrets
7 Missle Launchers
30 Beam Cannons
Medium Manuverability
10 Shuttles
100 Fighters
Neutron Destablilizer

OOC: Ok. Yeah. This is like Klonor’s Trek RP earlier this year. I figured it would be a good way to meet some people and have some fun.

Whoever’s interested in me heading towards their territory, please TG me. Please give me where you’d like me to end up, and where exactly it is. Also, WHAT it is would be helpful. I’ll be entering the Sol system next post.

So yeah…here’s hoping this works out well.

(And yes…I know the quality of the post falls apart in the last scene…bear with me. I wanted to get this done before I went to bed…and it was just boring to write.)

http://img373.imageshack.us/img373/8481/map1sr3.jpg
OOC: Jump-node map. Not necessarily the actual locations of different territories and systems.

IC:
The Olympia jumped into the edge of the Criun system after a short stint in the Sol system. Most of the time there had been spent in the Kuiper Belt, getting some last minute supplies at Hope Shipyards. Sol was already well-documented, and Atlantians usually didn’t want to have anything to do with it. However, they did get some nice shots of a large KBO nicknamed “Prometheus”.

Sol was unique for more then just the fact that it was the most densly populated system in the Galaxy. It also had an unusual amount of Jump Nodes. The crew had guessed they would be returning to Sol soon.

As it dropped out of the Jump Node in the outer reaches of the Criun system, it proceeded slowly inwards at warp 2, the maximum speed an Atlantian ship could make on they’re primitive warp engines.

At least three inhabited planets had been detected in system…and a large amount of man-made structures in orbit, including some odd wormhole reading, much stronger then those of the jumpnodes. The Olympia made no attempt to hide itself with a cloak, nor had shields or weapons online. It was simply making a sensor sweep of the system.

The Criun System was the place of numerous great firsts for the Corporation: the first solar system to be colonized, the first military shipyards ever constructed, the first orbital stargate put into service, the first city-ship built and tested, and now the first meeting between Northrop-Grumman and the Atlantians.

At this time, the Criun System was overflowing with activity for it was the transportation hub to bring metals and other elements in from the mining facilities that lie in the surrounding system to the foundries on the colony worlds. From there, the processed materials would be taken through the orbital stargate back to Earth where they would be used for the reconstruction of the capital city. Meanwhile, above the colony of P3X-719, construction vehicles set about fusing compartments onto the new flagship of the Corporate fleet, the Valsharen Megilthura, with its dark spiked frame jutting out of the first bay of the makeshift construction dock. Nearly halfway done, its slowly lengthening body had already reached almost ten kilometers, only a little more than a kilometer longer than the salvaged Indran vessel in the next bay over, from which some components for the new vessel were being taken. Nearby, the NGSS Siri O’Neill, along with the rest of the one-hundred fifty-five vessel Sixth Carrier Battle Group, was patrolling the outskirts of the system for the month, as its sister fleet, the Eighth, remained docked to the repair facilities at P4X-582 for its annual inspection. Serving as the core of the fleet, the Siri O’Neill itself was one of the largest vessels at nine-point-two kilometers and one of seven multi-purpose Zereul-class battlecarriers still in service. It was led by Major General Joseph Cartwright, a forty-four year veteran of the Air Force Space Command and twenty-one year commander of the vessel.

On this particular morning, General Cartwright was quietly sitting in his command chair, sipping from a mug of strong chicory coffee as he read over the reports of the various minor events that occurred around the system. Nothing was of interest aside from a few minor collisions between docking vessels and engine malfunctions, so he dropped the datapad into a side compartment and gazed out of the viewscreen into space.

His sensors officer broke the silence of the bridge as he spoke, the console in front of him beeping rapidly. “Sir, we have just picked up an unidentified ship on the outskirts of the system, heading straight for us.”

Cartwright set the mug down on his armrest and swiveled the chair towards the man. “Weapons? Shields?”

“They are there but none are active.”

“Very well.” He turned back around to face the viewscreen. “Helm, take us on a parallel course to that vessel, ahead full.”

On his command, the Siri O’Neill’s ion drives began to power up, vibrating those within the battlecarrier only slightly. In a few seconds, it started moving forward and slowly picked up speed as it cruised towards the unknown vessel.

Cartwright turned his head to the rear of the bridge and barked, “Weapons, bring shields and weapons online, but do not target anything.”

“Yes, sir” came the reply.

“Now…let’s see what they’re up to…” After flipping a lid on his armrest, he lightly pressed a green button that allowed him to transmit an uncoded message on all frequencies. “This is Major General Joseph Cartwright of the Northrop-Grumman military vessel Siri O’Neill. As of now you are in our territory without any authorization. Please state your intentions for being here.”

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OOC: This is pretty much what’s parked around that system.

2 x Zereul Class Battlecarriers (NGSS Siri O’Neill, NGSS Alakantar O’Neill)
6 x Yorktown Class Carriers
14 x Kingmaker Class Battleships
40 x Ancient Class Battle Cruisers
250 x Wilmington Class Corvettes

Stats: http://z7.invisionfree.com/Northrop_Grumman/index.php?showtopic=6&st=0&#last

Xolin was the ship’s new head science officer.

More surprisingly, she was a horse.

Well, not really. She was a Centaur, a secondary species which lived almost entirely inside Atlantis’s borders. They comprised of about fifteen percent of the population. As such, her living conditions…as well as the other forty five Centaurs on board, had to be slightly…different.

There were of course special living quarters. But as for her bridge station…

Well, sufficient to say, the set-up was quite interesting. A new seat was installed, one that was curved down the middle, and without a backside. It was also about the size of a loveseat. For any regular person, it was like sitting down on an uncomfortable bench. For her, she had to lay down on it and let her legs hang down on each corner while she tended to business.

“Sir…there’s a ship headed this way” she said, reporting the readings off her screen. “Coming in fairly fast at mark two six nine”

“How big?” asked Vega.

“Over nine kilometers. She’s fully armed”

Xol looked longingly at the red alert button at his tactical station. “Uh oh. Looks like we hit a hornets nest”

“They’re sending us a transmission” said Xolin. Patching it in now”

“This is Major General Joseph Cartwright of the Northrop-Grumman military vessel Siri O’Neill. As of now you are in our territory without any authorization. Please state your intentions for being here.”

“Told you we shoulda cloaked…” said Xol.

“Shut up, Xol” said Sing, next to him.

Vega thought it over. “Lt…drop us out of warp”

“Aye sir” Sing said.

“Lt, open a channel, audio only”

“Channel open” said Xolin.

“This is Admiral Vega of the Atlantian flagship Olympia. We are the official “ambassador” if you were, of the Atlantian Imperial Federation while on this little jaunt. We just found a jump node which led us to this system, and so we’re just doing some quick exploration. We do apologize for bumping into you like this.”

Beep-ba-bleep…beep-ba-bleep

The metal arm of General Cartwright’s command chair began emitting a low beeping sound, a clear indicator that there was an incoming transmission. After leaning over and flipping the lid up once again, he gently toggled one of the switches, broadcasting the message on the speakers around the bridge.

“This is Admiral Vega of the Atlantian flagship Olympia. We are the official “ambassador” if you were, of the Atlantian Imperial Federation while on this little jaunt. We just found a jump node which led us to this system, and so we’re just doing some quick exploration. We do apologize for bumping into you like this.”

Stroking his thick brown beard as he thought, Cartwright decided that a more face-to-face conversation would be in order with these people so he rose from his chair and stepped forward towards the viewscreen, straightening the wrinkles out of his dark green Air Force jumpsuit. He coughed a little first to clear his throat before ordering the comm. officer to transmit a reply, this time in audio and video.

“You’re on, sir,” the officer announced.

Cartwright turned from the man back to the viewscreen and spoke in his usual deep, rough tone. “That is quite alright, Admiral. We often do much of the same thing ourselves from time to time. Though, it can lead to some sticky situations, but thankfully, this time, it appears that neither one of us seems to be trigger-happy.” He smiled and motioned towards his direction. “Well, since you’re here, you might as well check us out. And if you like, we could perhaps meet in a more suitable, friendly environment, like one of the colony worlds.”

The Atlantian vessel responded in kind, sending a real-time visual as well as the audio that had already been activated.

The Atlantians were a humanoid species…so close that at first glance, they could pass for Terrans. Heavily tan skin, white pigmentless hair, and the fact that the average height was 6.5 were the main visible differences.

That wasn’t the say that there weren’t non-visible differences.

The bridge was circular in design, with a very “clean” silver look and feel to it. Strips of blue lined the walls and control panels in intricate designs. A few of them were even glowing. From what could be seen, the computer controls seemed to be a highly-advanced touch/voice screen.

Two officers sat in the back, far apart and hugging the wall. One was a female Centaur, the other a male Atlantian. In front sat a pair of female and male Atlantians. Behind them was the Admiral.

As for uniforms…they did not seem to have them. They wore standard civilian clothes. This would range from futuristic Terran fashions to various psudo-robes and modernized-traditional Atlantian outfits with modern add-ons; such as belts to carry equipment. The only way one would know they were officers would be a (besides the belt), a badge pinned somewhere on their suit which indicated name, rank, house, and assigned ship.

The Admiral looked to be in his late fourties, early fifties; with a bit of a receding hairline and wrinkles developing. Although Vega was already into his 200’s in age, as it wasn’t unusual for an Atlantian to live to be over 400 years old. Most lived to see at least 300. He stood up.

Smiling, he replied, “I think that would be splendid” he nodded to the female officer in front of him.

Nodding, she turned around to her station. “Putting us in a follow the leader”

“Whenever you are ready” Vega said to Cartwright.

“Very well, Admiral,” Cartwright nodded, glancing down at his silver plated watch briefly. “But first, I need to inform my superiors of what is going on here. So I will contact you again once we have arrived at the colony in around fifteen to twenty minutes. Until then, enjoy the scenery…Cartwright, out.”

Once showing the Atlantian admiral, the viewscreen switched back to the typical display of the starfield in front of the battlecarrier. The audio/video link between the Siri O’Neill and the Olympia had been severed rather quickly so that the General could tend to other matters.

After turning from the screen, Cartwright began to make his way towards the rear of the bridge, hands folded neatly behind him. “Helm, turn us about and head for home, full speed,” he ordered. “And comm, send a brief encoded message through the DCC to Vice Chairman Naelthasser and state the following to him: A military vessel under the command of one named Admiral Vega, a representative of a civilization by the name of the Atlantian Imperial Federation, stumbled upon the Criun System while exploring. They do not appear to be hostile thus far, so I have invited the Admiral to P3X-719 to discuss things further.”

“Yes, sir,” came the replies, almost simultaneously.

The Siri O’Neill gradually banked into a steep but yet wide turn with its rather flat bottom facing the Olympia as its ion particle engines thrusted it forward. It was apparent that it did not have the quick turning capabilities of other vessels like the Ancient class of battle cruisers, but it was still one of the most maneuverable in its class. Under a minute it had completed its turn and was cruising back towards the Criun System.

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When the battlecarrier had returned to the colony worlds of the Criun System along with the Atlantians behind it, the reception that both vessels received was one of caution and alertness. The Corporation’s battleships had the construction yards and the Valsharen Megilthura under their protection as their weapons were powered up and sensors carefully scanned the foreign vessel. The orbital stargate facilities were being covered by the carriers along with the fighters that bolted around the enormous ring and its adjoining structures. One could consider the fleet to be overly cautious but with the recent events they had every reason to be. Destruction had hit their capital city, and no one wanted the same thing to happen to the important military bases in this system.

As soon as the Siri O’Neill had neared the planet of P3X-719, another transmission was sent to the Olympia. It was audio only this time and was the voice of General Cartwright, but unlike the perfect quality of the conversation on the bridge, it had a hollow sound to it as if he was in a large, or perhaps unfurnished room.

“Admiral, this is Cartwright speaking again,” the general announced. “I have quite a few options for you. First, you could just teleport down with me to the city using our own site-to-site transport. Second, if you have the capabilities, you could even land your ship on the planet itself. Third, you could take your own shuttle down there if you’d like. Any one will be alright with me.”

Vega noticed some of the crew shift nervously at the thought of a transporter. While the Olympia and some other major ships had them, transporters were still new to Atlantis, only acquired during the civil war, and only used for goods. Not people. They were afraid that having your molecules scattered and rearranged would destroy one’s soul, and simply create a clone of the original.

Scary thought indeed.

“We’ll take a shuttle if you don’t mind” Vega replied. “We’ll be down shortly”

He pointed at Sing and Xol. “You two come with me”

…

The small Atlantian shuttlecraft left the docking bay minutes later, with six occupants. Admiral Vega, his tactical officer Xol, his navigational and communications officer Sing, his chief of security Achilles, and two Anubite warriors.

The Anubites were the second secondary species in Atlantis, after the Centaurs. However, unlike the Atlantians and Centaurs, the Anubites were artificially created. A successful genetic project which gave rise to what would have been the main shock troops for the Federation. However, as Atlantis soon scrapped the majority of its military, the Anubites were integrated into normal culture and populated quickly.

They were as one would expect—humanoid black jackals that resembled a particular Egyptian god. They and Achilles; unlike the other three; were dressed in full body armor (with a red triangle on the front chestplate, it being the now mostly defunct army signal), signifying their position as warriors. Protectors. They seemed not to carry any weapons on them, save for a small rod on their belts.

The shuttle entered the atmosphere and waited for clearance and directions.

Upon their descent into the planet’s atmosphere, the Atlantians would have been able to see the beautiful landscape that made up the world, with its snow-capped mountain peaks in the north that seemed to touch the sky and its lush green forests that comprised the rest of the surface. It was a world that was almost untouched by the ravages of heavy industry unlike the homeland. Strict guidelines had been set up here to control the amounts of pollution that were dispersed into the atmosphere and where the factories could be built, among other things. This enabled the colony world to maintain its natural ecosystem yet allow the Corporation to expand upon it if need be.

The focal point of the landscape, in the midst of a sea of trees, was Nocovia, a city of five million. Built fifty years ago, its older and rather plain steel and concrete structures bore a great contrast to the newer central portion, with its numerous tall blue, silver, white, and light tan skyscrapers of metal. That section had been just completed only a few months earlier and was now undergoing a period of careful oversight, a trial run, so that everyone would be sure that the vital systems were installed properly.

Standing on the outer edge of one of the large metal landing pads that jutted partially out from the middle of the so called “central tower” of the city was General Cartwright. But he appeared different this time as he was not wearing his green jumpsuit and black boots from earlier but instead his formal uniform with service cap and black dress shoes, a rather old style overall as it was derived from the Air Force uniform of the United States at the beginning of the twenty-first century. In his hand, he clutched a hardcopy of the transmission that had been sent to the Atlantian shuttle only moments earlier and brought it up within eyesight to examine it.

“This is Nocovia Central Control to the Atlantian Imperial Vessel, you are cleared for landing at platform 3B,” he mumbled as he read over it, then looked down on the large number painted on the landing pad itself. “3B.”

Nodding a little because he was at the right location, he let his hand drop down and glanced back at the two security guards standing on either side of the doorway to the interior of the tower. Wearing the typical silver power armor that encased their whole bodies including their head, they stood at seven feet in height, a formidable sight that was assisted by a plasma rifle that they each carried in their hands. Cartwright smiled a little at the two, who did not respond at all to anything that he did, and turned his attention back up into the clear blue skies overhead.

The shuttle was Obelisk in design, much like the main type of Fighters in the fleet. The Egyptian tower was on it’s side, with blue lines streaking across it, indicating engines and weapons systems. Wings sprouted from the front and back.

Sing slowly lowered the shuttle into the atmosphere, taking in all the sights as she did so (most everyone did, sans the Anubites on board). Once again, the rule held true—the universe is much more beautiful then Sol.

“This is Nocovia Central Control to the Atlantian Imperial Vessel, you are cleared for landing at platform 3B,”

Sing took a moment to locate her destination as they closed in. She hated this part of flying—landing. Damnit, she drove starships. She drove giant hunks of metal that never landed. She was NOT a pilot for sub-orbital craft. “Closing in” she said, concentrating on the target.

The shuttle stopped and hovered several dozen meters over the landing pad.

“Engaging thrusters” Xol reported. Landing the damn thing wasn’t a solo operation. At least, it wasn’t supposed to be.

“Stabilizing altitude, main engines offline” said Sing.

“Lowering thrusters” the ship began to descend, finally resting on the pad itself as the thrusters deactivated. A ramp descended from the side of the ship, as a hatch opened.

“Are we ready?” asked Vega. Achillies nodded. “Let’s make some first contacts”

The individuals; the four Atlantians and two Anubites, proceeded down the ramp one at a time. Vega first, then Achillies, then Sing, Xol, and the two Anubite guards.

At a height of over two thousand feet from the city streets below, the open landing pad was not exactly the safest place for General Cartwright to be waiting, for the winds swirling through the tall buildings adjacent to the main tower pressed against his body, causing him to lean against the wind in an attempt to not be blown off. As he clutched his service cap to keep it on his head, he peered slightly over the railing-less edge at the tiny cars traveling below and raised his eyebrows. It was definitely a long drop, and he doubted that he could be rescued in time before he struck the pavement.

Above him, he could hear the Atlantian shuttle approaching so he turned his attention from the edge to the sky for the arrival of the Corporation’s guests. But he had to keep his head lowered after only a second of watching, because during the landing of the shuttle, the wind whipped through the air even harder and forced him to clutch his cap and his coat tighter to keep both from blowing. And he braced himself against one of the four light poles on the corners of the landing pad so that he would not fall from the side. After a moment, when the shuttle had come to a full stop, the wind gradually died down, providing the General with the opportunity to straighten his uniform out. He wanted to look presentable to these foreign guests considering he was the first Grummanian they would ever meet.

Seeing Admiral Vega depart from the shuttle, he stepped over to him and extended his hand for a handshake. “Good afternoon, Admiral, glad you could make it.” He looked over to the rest of the group and smiled. “You brought quite a few more people that I expected, but its alright. You know how they say ‘the more the merrier’.”