NationStates Jolt Archive

RPDC-Queen's Wing - Tengoku Station, Earth Orbit

The sleek black and orange diplomatic carrier Queen's Wing sits quietly in dock at the Shogunate's Tengoku orbital station, newly arrived from a trip out to Titan; specifically bringing Firefury Amahira and her latest fightercraft, the Elite Victory Mk-3 back from testing exercises at Camp R.

"Um... Firefury-sama?" One of the communications technicians on board the Lady Shogun's personal spacecraft glances toward the command crane, one eyebrow raised and a perplexed look on his face. "We've just received a transmission forwarded from the Diplomatic Corps. Tsume decided that you should probably take a look at it personally."

The orange reploid lounging in one of the currently unoccupied seats on the command crane glances over, a slightly concerned expression on her face. "He wouldn't send it up unless it was urgent. Put it up on my screen."

"Yes'm!"

A few keystrokes later and the message comes up on the small console screen at Firefury's seat. With the ease of long practice, she quickly skims the missive, one eyebrow climbing up her forehead as she views the contents.

Shogunate of Reploid Productions,

I am Nektaph, sovereign leader of the Almighty Necro et Gladus. I have observed the growth of your lands and following the code of war, I present to you this ultimatum. Submit yourself to the incumbent supremacy of Necro et Gladus or prepare for a ruthless invasion that will invariably result in your complete and utter annhilation. By agreeing to this ultimatum, your Shogunate and its affiliated territories will forfeit all their monetary reserves, your men will divorce their wives who will become the slaves of our soldiers, your lands shall become the colony of the Holy Empire of Necro et Gladus, your polity exterminated, your men publicly tortured and executed, your infants brainwashed and turned into ruthless soldiers of my Omnipotent Empire, your Arms Manufacturing industry and other businesses the usurped property of my invincible military ... but you, you shall become my subservient slave, living the rest of your miserable life in the cages of my beasts of war. Know that this option would be the wise one for you. For us Necrotians thrive on our fatalism and drive to kill.

I await your response.

Your Master-to-be,
Lord Nektaph

"Is this... a joke?" Firefury finally states. "What else did Tsume send with the message?"

"Just an intelligence report. The message originated from a nation calling itself the Holy Empire of Necro et Gladus. Population estimated near 500 million, current satellite data indicates a relatively impressive military-industrial complex for it's size, but we don't know their offensive capacity at this time. No known space assets are in our data." The technician dutifully reads off. "Defense Secretary Leona is confident that any aggression can swiftly be dealt with by our own forces, but Tsume urges caution."

"Right, right. Don't overestimate the enemy and all that." The reploid rubs her chin in thought, contemplating her options. For one thing, she doesn't like the missive's tone, and that alone makes pasting the guy from orbit sound awfully attractive. However, Firefury also knows that you generally don't go pasting countries you don't like from orbit... it irritates the neighbors and really sends property values down the toilet. Not to mention that the Triumvirate Charter generally reserves pasting from orbit as a retaliation for aggression, and not as a preemptive strike.

"Okay, here's what we'll do. Send word to Leona to raise our military alert level... But keep things quiet. Bring in the Setsujoku and Shusen fleets- have the Shusen cover Shogunate airspace from orbit in a missile intercept formation. We dunno if they have long range missiles, but if ANYTHING comes flying our way from them, I want it taken out before it can hit us. Place Setsujoku on a higher orbit standby in case we need to move in fast and establish aerospace superiority over their airspace." Firefury counts off, mentally going over the logistics. "... And lastly, bring the Daijuusan Shinken into high orbit on standby as well. They won't mobilize unless we need to paste them from orbit, but I want the gravships in place to fire ahead of time."

"Ryoukai!" The technician quickly sends out that order, properly encrypted.

"And secondly, prepare a transmission to the Trium." Firefury grins. No sense if depriving her good friends of some fun! "And one to our... ah, new 'friend.'"

In short order the transmissions go out- the first to Titan, the second to the Holy Empire of Necro et Gladus.

ALTIMIT Broadcaster
Encryption: Triumvirate QE
Broadcast type: Military-Urgent
To: Trium Member Nations
Return transmission band: Open
IDENT: Firefury Amahira - Shogunate of Reploid Productions
Attachment: Necro_et_Gladus-Ultimatum.txt

We're not sure just how serious this threat is, but a previously unknown nation has issued a rather... bold... ultimatum to the Shogunate demanding our immediate surrender otherwise we'll be annihilated.

I'm going to send a response requesting diplomatic discussions before any weapons get brought into play, but just in case I've already ordered three of my space fleets into position and raised my ground forces to ready status. Our Diplomatic Corps has a newly promoted ambassador that I think is perfect for this operation.

Any additional support, both diplomatic or military is appreciated.

~Firefury Amahira
~Shogunate of Reploid Productions

<<END TRANSMISSION>>

ALTIMIT Broadcaster
Encryption: Standard Code
Broadcast type: Diplomatic-Military
To: Lord Nektaph - Holy Empire of Necro et Gladus
Return transmission band: Open
IDENT: Lady Shogun Firefury Amahira - Shogunate of Reploid Productions

We have received your missive and given your proposal due consideration. Due to the terms of your proposal, we are unable and unwilling to accept your terms, as we see no reason to submit ourselves to a foreign leadership that ignores many of the tenants of our culture, government, way of life, and those of our allied nations in the Triumvirate of Yut. Your terms violate the charter of said organization in many ways and as such we will not subject our citizens to these violations.

We strongly urge you to back down from your untoward and unprovoked hostility, as an attack against the Shogunate and its assets will provoke a response not only from our own military, but from our allies as well. We are a nation of generally peaceful people, however we are not above excessive military retaliation if provoked.

If you wish to continue diplomatic discussions, we have a member of our Diplomatic Corps standing by.

http://rpstudios.ian-justman.com/junk/furyavatar.jpg
~Firefury Amahira
~Lady Shogun Eternal under the Wings of Chaos
~Immortal Shogunte and Affiliated Territories of Reploid Productions

<<END TRANSMISSION>>


Messages sent, the orange-armored leader of the Shogunate kicks back in her seat and gets back to the serious business of beating her previous high score in Tetris.

In his office aboard Valhalla Station at the antecedent Earth-Sun Lagrange point, Sky Marshal Rico sighs. The period of relative quiet couldn't last forever, of course, but he, being human, can perhaps be forgiven for still being annoyed when things go as they simply go. He didn't sign up in the Services to sit around idly, after all, and he didn't rise up in the ranks due to loafing. In the old days, he'd call up a strategic display from his desk's projector showing the Earth Theatre's disposition. Nowadays, in the new-fangled transhumanist era, he jacks in through the transduction jack he had installed just above his left temple.

He doesn't like that either, but so it goes. His reality gets replaced with a cybernetic reality which, due to Combined Services standard, follows the concept of a conference table with lit places around it. Mindbendingly, the table can expand and contract at will to accept additional participants, but Rico has gotten pretty good at ignoring that. "Just got a buzz from Queenie," he says out into the emptiness. "Who's untasked?"

This suggests the job isn't really that important. It's not, really; these sorts of random threats happen and usually showing the flag is enough. Volunteers will do. Should things go south, then more can be called in from reserve... and while Rico works out worst-case scenarios, a few people who defy simple description pop into under-lit and above-lit chairs, never minding that the lights don't actually correspond to any sort of physical location.

The first, looking to be a woman of Tamil descent except with four arms, a halo of fire, and a green-plastroned TYCS uniform that reveals much more midriff than standard, shimmers into solid existence on the seat around the corner left of the Sky Marshal. "Battleship Korrawi, flag Fiftieth Battleship Component, reporting for Admiral O'Shannon, sir."

The second, appearing on the right, is a giant hornet in absolute disregard for the square-cube law. Its thorax sports the standard TYCS Navy green-plastron-and-shoulder-boards-over-black, cunningly tailored to fit an insectoid frame. "Heavy Carrier Hornet's Nest, flag Fourth Heavy Carrier Component, reporting for Admiral Mattheison, sir."

The third, popping in next to the Tamil war-goddess, is an earthworm. Its uniform is more of a tube than anything else, yet it still manages to hold 'shoulder'boards and a plastron. The four-pointed 'beheaded stars' on its 'boards indicate it to be a commander. "Heavy Cruiser Pheretima, flag Fourth Heavy Cruiser Component, reporting in for Flag Captain Zaïs, sir."

"Okay, that's enough." The expanding conference table shrinks back down to size as medium cruisers, captains who happened to be surfing the matrix, and other ships who were slower to step up go back to their standard operating procedures when a theatre's been overly militarized: look important, help the occasional wayward soul, and patrol just in case something happens. Rico, out of habit, adjusts the artificial green wheelcap on his technically artificial head. "Right. Someone just sent a suicide request to Queenie, and she's showing dramatic restraint in only calling up three fleets of hers to both shore up defenses and look menacing."

"So we're going to try talking first, sir?" Korrawi asks, sounding mildly displeased. While speaking softly, her voice still has an appropriately war-goddess booming quality about it. "I'm still of the opinion that the best diplomat is a fully charged heavy naval particle cannon."

"Which is why you've just volunteered your component to go and play diplomat, with words instead of lighthugging landmass-melting death," Rico replies breezily. "By yourself you're big enough to give anyone reasonable pause, and supported as you are by a heavy cruiser--"

Pheretima seems to sag a little. "Awwww."

"--a missile frigate, and two destroyers, you've got enough concentrated firepower to dismantle most anything in extremely short order."

"'Short order?'" The Tamil manages to scoff politely. "With one HDM--"

"Which you're not authorized to use."

"--damn."

"Anyway, the Triumvirate of Yut Combined Services requests and requires you to inform Admiral O'Shannon that she's been tasked with taking up stationkeeping position over the threat nation currently uploaded..."

"'Necro et Gladus?' I certainly hope they don't expect to throw swords at us. Plus I've never heard necros used that way, except in High Gothic... but then again, the Sardines don't have any idea how to speak their own faux language."

"I'm sure Mary will appreciate your good-natured banter as always, Korrawi. Anyway, proceed to stationkeeping, make contact, and politely suggest that their course of action may be unwise. Yes, that will be all, dismissed."

* - * - *

And this is how the Supreme Emperor II-class battleship Korrawi, the Sulaco II-class heavy drone cruiser Awa-hon-do, the Grendel-class missile 'frigate' (long since realized to have been misclassified but no one could be bothered to correct it) Svarozic, and the Puma III-class advanced destroyers Ptoliporthus and Indra found themselves in high stationkeeping 'orbit' over a curious country with a curious semi-Latin name, carrying the sort of concentrated firepower that no one in their right mind would ever allow anywhere near a planet. Unfortunately, the multiverse is full of people out of their right mind, and so such amounts of absolutely silly overpoweredness is sadly quite common, although perhaps not to the extent that the Combined Services (quietly) pushes the envelope.

* - * - *

Greetings, Lord Nektaph and the defense bureaus of The Holy Empire of Necro et Gladus!

I wish we could've dropped in on better circumstances, but it seems you've been sending not entirely nice notes to members of our alliance. We don't take too kindly to that sort of thing, y'see, and such an ultimatum would be more than sufficient casus belli to casus us to burn your country down to the mantle, a process which I assure you wouldn't take more than a good ten minutes assuming we were taking our sweet time about it. Still, we're a bit kinder and gentler than all that, so we're going to give you the opportunity to smile and say it was all a very misfortunate prank gone so very awry. Then we'll gladly come down to make contact, say 'hi,' and, should we like what we see, probably not murder your military-political complex and reduce the general population to having to live off of food aid provided by, well, us.

I know the carrot-and-stick approach here is pretty blatant, but, well, the Sky Marshal cuts my checks and that's the way we gotta do things, though I figure we can get through this all friendly-like and without any sort of earth-scorching whatsoever.

Admiral Mary O'Shannon
Commanding Officer, 50th BB Component
Triumvirate of Yut Combined Services

"Ah, diplomacy. The subtle art. The great game. How to be passive-aggressive for dummies..."

"Admiral?"

"Oh, just yammering to myself..."

Space rippled like a pond in a rainstorm as five of the Republic's finest warships emerged into real-space in far Terran orbit. Two Dawn-Class Dreadnoughts (Sheppard, Smithe), another pair of Cohort V-Class Cruisers (Hing Yuan, Custer), and a Venture E-Class Heavy Explorer (St. Louis) began to slowly drift into closer orbits while a few dozen sub-craft emerged from various hangars and took up supporting positions. There were no running lights on and none bothered to transmit any identification or general greetings. Drifting in orbit enough to make accurate fire a bother they did little that was aggressive aside from assuming an orbit that would take them over the offending nation every few hours.

Despite the few outward signs of activity each was like an angry beehive internally. More sub-craft sat idling in their hangars while technicians, marines, and officers swirled around them. Crates of supplies were loaded aboard, powered armor was donned, checked, and clomped up the ramps, and systems checked, tested, and re-checked. Then they waited.

Ciryaherucáno Melcinítan Iauron nos Fingolfin leaned back in his command chair and slowly shook his head as he read the report, along with the transmission originally sent to Queenie. He had to hand it to this "Lord Nektaph", the fellow certainly had... 'courage' seemed the wrong word. 'Nerve', perhaps. Combined with a healthy dose of ignorance of just what he faced, this added up to an extremely... dangerous combination. Nektaph would surely disagree as to whom the danger was directed, but Melcinítan knew that the danger rested solely on Nektaph and his, ah, nation, whose name seemed vaguely Latin or Gothic but not directly from any language the Ciryaherucáno knew - a long list - but appeared, as near as he could tell, to likely involve a reference to death and swords.

The equivalent of a rear admiral in other navies - Ciryaherucáno translated directly to English as 'ship-lord-commander' - Melcinítan was the commanding officer of the Menelmacari Valarauka-class battleship MIS Idhrenohtar and several other vessels. As part of her obligations as a member of the Triumvirate of Yut it was customary for Menelmacar to assign considerable fleet strength to liaison with the TYCS, though overall the Empire was less willing than, say, Scolopendra, to turn ships over directly; instead, fleets were rotated in and out of TYCS duty but ownership thereof was retained by Menelmacar.

Usually this was somewhere on the order of three hundred and fifty to five hundred combat vessels. Nowhere near that many would be necessary to deal with Necro et Gladus, and the matter had been designated a volunteer matter, much as it had in the larger TYCS itself. Yut duty tended to be... quiet - most belligerents had long ago learned with whom not to screw around. Menelmacar alone, of course, was surely well up such a list; it would stand to reason that an alliance of Menelmacar and a score of other highly-advanced interstellar powers would very likely top that list. So, intrigued by the prospect of some actual action, Melcinítan had jumped at the chance.

Normally, with Necro et Gladus being located on Arda - Earth - it would normally make more sense to simply move ships from one of the Home Fleets, but as this matter came to the Elves through Yut, through Yut would the Elves' response return. And so it was that with a precision in-system tesseract jump, heralded with crimson blooms of light and energy likely visible from the Earth's surface in the night sky, that Idhrenohtar, accompanied by the Daeron-class fleet carrier MIS Glenndaugion, the Urulókë-class strike cruiser MIS Barathon, and the Uruvafalma-class missile cruiser MIS Feredir, joined the Scolopendran, Sunseti, and Shogunate groups in their stationkeeping orbit over Necro et Gladus.

It was probably, strictly, unnecessary to send a message at this point, but there was weight in numbers as much as in vast firepower - which of course the Menelmacari had in prodigious quantities - and Melcinítan determined that an obviously united front might be more conducive to urging Nektaph to back down peacefully; so he sent one anyway.

By the Voice and Will of Ciryaherucáno Melcinítan Iauron nos Fingolfin, given aboard Menelmacari Imperial Battleship Idhrenohtar, Twenty-seventh Menelmacari Imperial Gravitic Battle Fleet, Triumvirate of Yut Combined Services, on this fourth day of Hrívë in the 31874th year of Elentári Sirithil nos Fëanor's reign, to Lord Nektaph, Necro et Gladus, greetings:

It was with the very height of amusement that we read your missive to our most honorable allies in the Shogunate of Reploid Productions. For the quality of your comedy we must commend you; it brought smiles and laughter to weary faces. However, it is based on the disturbing possibility that you were serious that we have come in support of our allies.

That you would dispense such a declaration to a nation which, on its own, its twenty times your superior in the barest of measures, and far more so in most, is alarming, as it speaks to a mental instability that we can only conclude renders you unfit to rule. We are confident however that the spread of laughter was your sole objective, and we require only your confirmation thereof.

In the case that you were in fact serious, even the most cursory scans will tell you that you could not so much as get off a launch order before my ship alone had finished rendering your infrastructure impotent, let alone our allies' vessels; let this not come to that, and instead let us all share in the enjoyment of your wonderfully amusing joke.

I would normally wish you a traditional blessing at this point - that Manwë might bring fair winds to your sails - but the weather you will face over the next few minutes and hours shall be entirely of your own choosing.

Sincerely,
Ciryaherucáno Melcinítan nos Fingolfin

First-Admiral Shaar was, as ever, not in a seemingly pleasant mood. In actuality she was in fine spirits, but she also enjoyed playing a cruel game from time to time with the chefs at the Orbitals in the Titan Sphere. "I told you roast boar. Not some farm-raised swine from Pantheon-Knows-Where! Amend this or your heads adorn my mantle!" The assembled cooking staff scrambled at best speed to try to keep their craniums on their birth-appointed perches. Hee hee, lookit them scramble.

A soft *bweep* sounds in her ear symbiote, and she cues it up for incoming messages. 'First-Admiral here. What? Firefury got WHAT? From who? WHAT!? Is this serious? Right right right. Well, if it's a suicide request, why not make a show of it? See who's leave is about up at saaaaay, ohhhh let's go with Berth 37 and send them off on their merry way. I got pressing issues here! What do you mean by that? It is NOT a cotillion ball going on! I fully expect that! To the Pits with you, just do it!'

She cued off her symbiote, removed it from her ear-hole and placed it in its nutrient-bath. Shaar then rested the side of her head in her left palm of her hand and leaned both on the table before her. 'I swear i'm seeing more insubordination these days than ever before. I blame modern entertainment media!'

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

And with that Task Force Omega was founded, comprising 2 Wyvern-class Warships, 1 Boa-class Warcarrier and three wings of 6 Caiman-class corvettes each with their full compliments of aero-space fighters, dropships, Armor Cavalry members and all the fuzzy dice and rubber chew-toys anyone could stomach.

Approaching their assigned coordinates, it had been noticed several other Trium crafts had already made their orbits and were quite present. Fleet Commander Srees sat in his commander's seat and pondered the events. 'Transmissions to Necro et Gladus seem to have been sent' Should we send a transmission ourselves, sir?'

Srees eyeballed his comm officer. Yeesh with these green-ears. Send a transmission indeed. He adjusted his seating a bit before giving the approximation of as-exhausted-as-hell look on his face. 'And what will we put in it that hasn't probably already been said? Surrender or we eat your children before your dying eyes? Disarm or we drop an ortillery shell full of fertilizer on your capitol? Come on, don't waste the energy. Let's announce to the Trium crafts in the area we're here for support. I bet the Fractal Inversion sees this nation literally dry up and blow away by the end of the day. And tell the Ensign to fetch me a bottle of whiskey as it seems we'll be parked up here for a bit.'

The message makes its way to the upper levels of the Tiburonese government, where it's met with surprise and alarm by some and a brief chuckle by others. Everyone's connected to the O-Net in some form or another (another effect of posthumanity), so it provides a new office discussion topic in some secure channels. Outside of said channels, it's not heard of widely- it's mostly brushed off as another nutcase country leader with delusions of grandeur.

Aerospace carves out a shiny new temporary task force- Task Force Omicron- consisting of the TSS Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar (a Richard Feynman-class supercarrier), the Oregon, the Fukushima, and the Maharastra (all of them Gujarat-class battleships), and the two Flying Brick-class cruisers Really Powerful Space Thing and Extremely Gentle Butterfly, and sends Field General Hajime Tsubasa in command. DiploCorps, meanwhile, assigns Ambassador Tejas Chaturvedi. They're chosen this way primarily because both are quite accomplished, but also partially because they're also good friends and because Tsubasa recognizes the paramounce of diplomacy. This stifles griping about Aerospace having to subordinate itself to Diplo. Tsubasa sends a message to Admiral O'Shannon acknowledging that they're here- it seems like the polite thing to do- but the procedure here is somewhat obvious.

[Sent Via M-Net]
[To: Admiral Mary O'Shannon, Triumvirate of Yut Combined Services]
[From: Field General Hajime Tsubasa, Task Force Omicron, Tiburon Aerospace Force, the United Solaris Federation of Tiburon]
[Subject: Necro et Gladus]
[Classification: Top Secret]

Admiral O'Shannon,

Looks like the gang's mostly here. If you need anything, just call. Anything you need us to do at the moment?

Field General Hajime Tsubasa,
Task Force Omicron,
Tiburon Aerospace Force,
The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon

[Sent Via D-Net]
[To: Lord Nekaph, Holy Empire of Necro et Gladus]
[From: Ambassador Tejas Chaturvedi, Division of Diplomacy, the United Solaris Federation of Tiburon]
[Subject: Re: Ultimatum]
[Classification: Declassified]

To Lord Nekaph, et. al., the Holy Empire of Necro et Gladus,

Greetings from the United Solaris Federation of Tiburon. By now we assume you have received the missives from our counterparts, so there is little to be said about the circumstances of our missive. Recently you sent a rather threatening letter to an ally of ours- specifically, to Lady Shogun Amahira of Reploid Productions- and we're not too happy about that. Now, we've read the letter in question, and I do think it's quite fair to warn you that we alone have the requisite firepower to turn your entire country into a sheet of glass in a matter of seconds. Judging from the fact that our other friends are up here, too, they seem to have come to a similar conclusion about what to do with your letter. (Incidentally, our other friends up here have that glassing capability as well.) You'll find that we don't like it very much when our friends are threatened.

Now, we don't want to turn your country into a sheet of glass. We're quite amicable chaps, really. So if it turns out (hint, hint) that you weren't serious at all when you sent the letter, and you really just want to have your kids play with our kids in the sandbox, there's a good chance we won't annihilate your military and government structures and take over your country for a bit. (Of course, if you were, we will take every measure to leave your country without a single soldier or government officer. Rest assured, though, that while you personally may not live to survive the orbital bombardment, your civilians will- and we'll do our best to make sure they have their living necessities taken care of after your government is obliterated.)

As a side note, we're somewhat perplexed as to why you would send such a missive to a country twenty times your own size. We Tiburonese like to do things rationally, and this seems to be highly irrational.

Sincerely,
Ambassador Tejas Chaturvedi,
Division of Diplomacy,
The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon

That the message makes it all the way to Imperatrix Keral is, perhaps, unsurprising, and the fact that she can be heard laughing - loudly - for hours suggests that she also found it amusing.

It's been sent to the Martian Fleet Admiralty as well, of course, and like so many others, a tiny, but decidedly imposing temporary task force is created.

Notably, of course, this task force is composed of some interesting choices. FKT Delsa Arasur, one of two Titan class supercarrier/battleships, is assigned as flag of the new Task Force Zeta, accompanied by the FKBCAs Sunset's Weeping II and Domestic Disturbance, both Mars class battlecarriers, and three Mjol class cruisers, the FKCr's Shotgun Wedding, Unilateral Action, and Unyielding Alcoholism.

They appropriately appear in orbit and make formation with the already present forces, whilst making lewd gestures (At least, as considered by starships) at the ground. In some cases this involves the use of shipboard lighting to approximate imagery or messages unreadable from the ground without a telescope, while other vessels "accidentally" bounce significant portions of Earth's radio chatter at the surface at random.

Otherwise, they're perfectly neighborly.