NationStates Jolt Archive

The turret tracked slowly about, following the course of the fragment as it hurtled inwards, threatening the safety of the massive dreadnought. Thousands of tons of tumbling rock, streaking through space, the far flung remenants of a shattered world.

Perhaps a home once clung to that forgotten piece of land, or a temple. Maybe it was a part of a farmer's field, or a forest where many a kil had his first hunt. No longer did it matter, not now that the dreaded temblor bomb had shaken mighty Kilrah apart.

The order came down from the bridge: The fragment's path intersected that of the dreadnought. It must be destroyed. The gunner's fangs gleamed in the dull light of the turret as his lips curled back. Oh, that it were that blasted terran beneath his guns and not a fragment of his long lost world. With a quick prayer for forgiveness, he clamped down on his trigger. A lance of coherent energy stabbed out from his cannon, spearing into the heart of the fragment, and blasting it to dust.

So died another piece of Kilrah.

---

From his place in the Dreadnought's CIC, Admiral Kohrg dai Hhlorres watched another piece of his homeworld die. Dimly, a piece of him wondered if that had been the field where he had made his first kill, or perhaps if it had held the barracks where he had spent his first night as a warrior. Perhaps it even held the grave of his beloved mate. The happiest thought coursing through his mind at that moment was that at least his mate had not lived to see the homeworld reduced to this. Had she not been many eights of years dead, had she not died bringing their first son into the world, it would have certainly killed her to see her home reduced from the seat of power for the entire empire to a mere navigational hazard.

Kohrg snarled. The Council of Clans. Bah! As if they represented the clans of Kilrah! Lowborn scum clutching at power, that was all they were. Not one of them could make the grand Kilrathi empire strong again. Kohrg was not so vain as to claim even in his own mind that only he had sufficient vision to accomplish that great task... But as he gazed upon the viewscreen and its display of the hurtling fragments of what was once his home, he could not name a single kil on the council that he could follow and retain his honour. More, there were those who agreed with him, more than a hundred million of his fellow kil, a number that grew every day. He had a responsibility to those brave warriors and their families, a responsibility to prove himself worthy of that honour.

"Set a course for the jump point." Kohrg ordered, rising from his throne-like command chair. "Take us to our new home."

From the ashes you came, back to the ashes shall you return :twisted: :twisted: :twisted:

From the ashes you came, back to the ashes shall you return :twisted: :twisted: :twisted:

Look its Evil Me. Quick somebody help me catch him.

Not sure if there is interaction able to be done yet but that being said nicely written. Enjoyed it immensly especially how deep you went into the kilrathi mindset of kilrah. Seriously that was just wow. Oh and ignore WestUkraine he's obviously being a moron.

I look forward to more on this. And hopefully a contact of not so violent proportions ;)

OOC: Thank you! *Deep bow* I'm glad you like it. I want to make at least two more posts to get a feel for Kohrg and for the Republic, but beyond that... Well, who knows. Kohrg dai Hhlorres is an intelligent and honourable kil. He wouldn't be entirely adverse to friendly relations with someone who shared that sense of honour. ;)

Allax nar Hhlorres raised his eyes to the starry heavens above, his fangs bared with pride. At twenty two kilometers long, you could see it from the surface of the planet without the aid of telescopes or other such devices. If you were careful, you could pick her out from the other points of light in the heavens: The KRS Takh'lath. His father's flagship. A cool breeze blew across his bare fur as he lay on his back in the open field on the surface of Tr'Kpa. The Republic's new homeworld. Lacking an Emperor, they were obviously no longer an Empire, and as they declared independance from the Council of Clans, they had to call themselves something, thus a Republic they were.

Rolling over, Allax slid his arm around his mate's bare form. His free paw pressed gently to her stomach as if he could feel his unborn child kicking in her womb, impossible at this stage of the pregnancy. Leaning in close, he licked a stray drop of blood from his mate's fur, bringing back memories of the night's hunt and of the kill they had shared. He had only a scant few days left of his leave, and then he would return to the fleet, taking command of his new wing, and accomplishing the goal he had been striving for his entire life: Wing Commander on his father's ship. Memories of the glorious day when he heard the news danced through his head as he drifted into a pleasent sleep, wrapped up tightly in his mate's arms.

---

Allax had been standing patiently at the broad transparisteel window that made up one entire wall of the briefing room that day. The strange blue-white light of Tr'Kpa's alien sun beat down on the tarmac just beyond the viewport. Out on the square new warriors practiced drill, learning to work as a pack for a common goal. Such things reinforced the instincts already present in every kil from birth. It hadn't seemed like it was that long ago that he himself had been down there on that drill square the day he became a warrior, passed from a cub to a grown kil. No, he reflected with a warm smile. That had come later that night in the arms of his mate.

He could still remember his shaky-limbed nervousness as she took him to his bed. Older than he, she had nonetheless seen something in the young warrior candidate that none of the other females his age could. A fire, she said. A fire in his eyes that would burn his name across the heavens some day. Looking upon his reflection in the viewport, he simply wished that he himself could see that fire. Together, they had...

The door swished open, banishing all thoughts of his mate and of his days as a cadet. Turning about smartly, he executed a sharp salute with claw clutched to breast and a deep bow, deeper than normal in honour of... His father.

Admiral dai Hhlorres cut a most distinguished figure. Powerful of build, although nowhere near as much so as his broad-beamed son, he more than made up for his deficiency in height through a strength of character and a presence that made him appear larger than kil many times his size. He looked upon his son with pride, and not for the first time, he wondered how the enormous kil could wedge himself into the cockpit of a fighter. Somehow, though, he managed. Not only did he manage, but he excelled... And that was what brought the Admiral here today.

"Rise, rise..." the older kil chuckled. "Do I look like that fool Thrakkath to you?"

Once, there was a time when such a comment would have seen the Admiral stripped of his rank, his station, and his life in short order. As it was, the irreverant remark brought a look of genuine amusement to his son's face.

"Let me look at you." the Admiral growled, his gravelly voice allowing him little else in the way of expression. "Ancestors... You grow bigger with each eight-day I spend away from you. Were you of age during the war, I would have posted you to the armoured corps not to drive tanks, but to be a tank."

That brought a barking laugh from Allax. "You exagerate, father... As always. I have not grown since I was a cub... Else my mate would have told me."

"Then what do you insinuate? That I shrink?" It was Kohrg's turn to laugh. "No, my son, I swear you grow. Hence my decision. I am taking you off the Krav'maga and away from your squadron. You will be wing commander aboard the dreadnought Takh'lath. I daresay it is the only ship in the fleet large enough to hold you!"

Allax's jaw struck the floor. He stood there for the longest time in stunned silence, his ears standing on end. He could not have been more shocked had his father peeled off his face to reveal Christopher Blair himself.

"The... Takh'lath?"

"Tell me you aren't growing deaf at such a young age, my son." the Admiral teased. "I would hate to think my genes are so weak as that."

To his credit, the young kil recovered admirably. "No, Admiral. Thank you, Admiral."

---

The meeting had continued for several eights of minutes more, with them discussing the disposition of the Takh'lath's double-sized fighter wing, her strengths and weaknesses, and her defensive needs. The Admiral had ordered food brought forth, and a bottle of fine wine from before the death of Kilrah, and they had discussed many a family matter. His father had asked after his mate, and how she handled her pregnancy. Amusing stories of the antics of friends were shared, and many tales were told of their exploits against the pirates and privateers that plagued the spacelanes. It was only as the meeting came to an end that the full import of the new assignment began to sink in for Allax.

I will not fail you, father...

They swarmed around his massive length like flies, the hundreds of support craft that attended a launch like this. Circling high above the surface, clinging to the spidery mass of girders and pipes, cranes and wires that made up the replenishment station, there he hung: The KRS Takh'lath, pride of the Kilrathi fleet.

Barely restrained power thrummed in his every line. He, not she, like human ships were. To a kil, a warship was not a lover, but a fellow warrior with a fighting spirit all his own. Even now, in these days of limited resources, female warriors were rare amongst the Kilrathi. Males fight. Females raise children. It is the way it has always been, and the way it will likely be for the forseeable future. Strangely, though, there were no barriers beyond cultural stereotypes that prevented females from joining the ranks of the warriors. It was simply a rare female who dared, and rarer still, one who achieved a place of prominance. To fight one's way up from underneath millenia of societal pressures took truly heroic drive and determination.

That was why Andrish Kierlach was such a force to be feared.

She had drawn herself up from her low-born station with claws that proved no less sharp than any male. Her fangs had sunk deep into the flesh of a hundred enemies, and through it all, she had come out victorious. Not once had she returned from a cruise having failed in her objective. Not once had she lost. She was determined not to lose now.

Andrish was the first to recover from her shock when the first explosion rocked the replenishment station. She was the first to call for a report, and the first to find out that the dock control was entirely gone, and that her ship was essentially wedded to the replenishment station until they could be cut free. Her powerful Heavy Destroyer, rendered a stationary target by a few well-placed shots.

As she watched, the enemy's fighters swooped about for another pass, bringing weapons to bear on the slumbering giant. So sure were they of their kill that they didn't bother to consider the much smaller vessel moored to the other side of the platform until it was too late.

His forward heavy particle cannon made the first strike, blotting the lead raider from the stars like a moth caught in the flame of a blowtorch. One moment, it was there, the next: Gone. As the others became aware of their plight, they quickly broke formation, maneuvering wildly to avoid the Heavy Destroyer's return fire. Too late, though. A full eight-fighter squadron fell to the Heavy Destroyer's lighter weapons as they quickly took up the fight after the initial volley.

With only a single engagement won, however, it would be utterly foolish for her to consider the battle over. Looking to her screens, she spotted the source of their attackers immediately: A Bhantkara-class vessel. A carrier of Kilrathi manufacture, the other vessel dwarfed Andrish's Heavy Destroyer at a length of more than nine hundred meters. Still, if she could draw the carrier into range, her smaller ship could tear it apart.

No time to think of that now, not with another flight of fighters closing. This time, their course brought them around the bulk of the replenishment station in such a way that Andrish could not return fire without striking the dreadnought.

Without a second thought, she gave the orders. Her primary drives came online, her ship's powerful sublight engines fighting against the dozens of moorings clamped to the Heavy Destroyer's hull, straining to draw her out into space. It was a doomed battle. The moorings were far too strong for the destroyer to tear himself free on the strength of his sublight drives. Fortunately for Andrish, that wasn't what she had in mind. Pivoting her ship, and indeed the entire station about the Takh'lath, she brought her own Heavy Destroyer into the enemy's line of fire.

"All weapons, full broadside!"

---

Tearing free of the atmosphere's clutches, Wing Commander Allax nar Hhlorres snarled a challenge to the ragged remnants of the ill-fated second dive on the slumbering dreadnought that had brought them into the guns of Andrish's Heavy Destroyer. Flicking the selector angrily over to bring his heat-seeking missiles to bear, he snarled wickedly as the seeker head found its target. Clamping down on the trigger, he sent the weapon spearing deep into an already wounded Dralthi, shattering it like an egg. Hauling back on the control yoke, he was already bringing his Vaktoth's powerful guns to bear on another target even as the first one disintigrated.

---

The battle was over in less time than it took to tell about it. Between Allax's squadron rising from the planet, and Andrish's quick thinking, the pilots onboard the Takh'lath had more than enough time to rush to the hangar bays and take to the fight. Once the Takh'lath's own flight wing entered the battle, the victor was known without doubt.

It was not without cost, however. Andrish's Heavy Destroyer took a vicious pounding, rendering the grand majority of her armament unsalvagable, and leaving her starboard side an unrecognizable twist of ruined metal. It would be months before she could take to space again. The Admiral, however, in recognition for his Captain's valiant stand against the raiders, was able to find another vessel for her to command in the meantime.

"We are approaching the jump point, Admiral." Captain Andrish Kierlach of the KRS Takh'lath reported with pride. "All stations sound ready for transition."

Admiral dai Hhlorres smiled approvingly down at the younger officer from his station high upon the command throne. "We have an unclaimed system to explore, Captain. Take us through."

Bowing deeply to her Admiral, Captan Kierlach turned to the helmsman and uttered a single command:

"Jump."

OOC: Okay, folks... I said I wanted to make two more posts, and this is the second one. Feel free to jump in for a first contact with the Kilrathi. I <i>would</i> like to keep this relatively peaceful, at least for the moment, though. Please don't declare any wars just yet. ;)

OOC:
Interesting; you are indeed a talented writer.

Just a little 'I'm here' post for tonight.

IC:

It was an unremarkible star system that the three kilometer bulk of the Kanuckistani Thunderhead-class Superfortress KHGV Target Drone transitioned into, atleast as far as her captain was concerned; the ship's AI quickly comparing probe data with that from her powerful active FTL sensors, refining maps and picking targets for live fire exercises.

No other vessels were detected thusfar, as sensors continued to scoure the system with seemingly religous devotion; however, some readings from half-way across the system in the mid-lower hyper-gravitic band seemed consistant with several known faster than light drive technologies...

It took some time for the Takh'lath's twenty-two thousand meter-long bulk to gain any meaningful vector built up after the leap between the stars. A single jump from the new homeworld, this system had never before seemed the least bit important to the Empire in the days of Kilrah's might. Now, though, it was on the very doorstep of their home, a stepping stone to Tr'Kpa itself. Constant patrols were maintained as the immense flagship made its way in-system, all systems on alert for any possible threats.

---

"Captain, perhaps you had best listen to this report yourself."

Rising from her somewhat smaller command throne, Captain Kierlach approached the communications officer, accepting the earphones from the seated kil. It took everything she had not to flinch when the Admiral appeared over her shoulder.

"You have detected something?" he asked, his gravelly voice kept low to avoid broadcasting the information across the bridge.

"My lord." Andrish bowed. "One of our Darket patrols has detected a vessel at the edge of its sensor range. The patrol never got close enough to identify it, but their readings indicate it is three times the length of one of the humans' Confederation-class Dreadnoughts." she explained. "Nearly one eighth our length."

"An eighth of our length..." Kohrg repeated, leaning in close to see the transcription of the pilot's message on the screen. "I have never heard of an ape ship of that size. At the range at which the other ship was detected, it is unlikely they were able to discern the presence of our fighters. Nonetheless... Sound all stop. Decrease the patrol radius by half, and send a flight of Strakha fighters to investigate."

---

Within moments, the mighty Takh'lath had come to a complete stop, relative the other ship. Soon, a pair of Strakha stealth fighters was leaving the fighter bay, cloaking as they came free of their parent vessel, and beginning the trek to the other ship.

OOC: *Deep bow* Thank you... :oops:

Captain Ch'cye was watching the alien fleet on her tartical repeter as they began shifting formation; a pair of small contacts apearing befor their plots flickered for a moment, then changed colour to indicate a cloaked vessel.

"Ma'am," a voice interupted her thoughts, "Fire control has selected a target for the initial primary weapons test and report they're ready to proceed."

The vulpine captain gave only an absent nod to acknowledged the report, bringing the data up on her screen; a rocky world five thousand kilometers across, mostly solid, in orbit around a decent-sized gas giant fourty-five AU from it's parent star, and it would only bring them fifteen million kilometers closer to the aliens; a good choice, and it should make an impressive display should these strangers be considering hostile actions.

"Very well; deplace to one-five-zero thousand kilo mark zero plane mark plus four-five star-zero relative to target planetoid. Fire control may proceed when ready upon arrival."

"Yes sir."

--------

Outside, space seemed to momentarily distort as probability was warped; the Kanuckistani Superfortress simply disapearing at some undefinible, unobservible instant; apearing nearly fifty light-seconds away in the same unknowible moment.

Massive energies spiked within the warship as reactor output was spooled up; neutronoum pellets crushed into imperceptibly small singularities, befor exploding in flashbulbs of hawking radiation; thousands of tonnes of matter converted into energy, building to cataclysmic levels within massive banks of volt-sink capasitors.

Slowly, still making final calibrations, one of countless weapons blisters aligns to track the crater-strewn worldlet hovering just over half a light second away.

Suddenly, a heavy cannon, sole occupant within a particularly-large blister, glows with prefire an instant befor hellfire is unleashed; the heavy particle beam lancing through the intermedium void in a heartbeat befor plunging into the unnamed rock. A dome of flash-vaporised plasma erupts into space from the epicenter at several hundred kilometers per second, a lance that would make Sol look dim drilling into the planetoid, turning the expanding dome of ejecta into a intense fountain of plasma and molten rock as the hole deepens; an angry glowing red boil two thousand kilometers across forming as chunks of rock the size of entire cities are thrown into space; jagged cracks erupting across the surface as building pressures and thermal stresses become too much to resist, befor a massive erruption of rock and plasma explodes out of the far side of the tortured moon, the power that spawned such destruction finally emerging to continue on into the darkness not twelve seconds after it began; fading as power dies and reactors spooled down; a glostly trail of plasma boiled and ripped from the cored moon slowly disipating in it's wake.

-------

"Firing sequence complete, sir!" an officer reported, "Engineering reports green across the board; all systems performed within tollerances, if not optimally. They're going over the data now to see where they can make adjustments"

Ch'cye signiled afirmitive befor bringing up the alien fleet on her tactical repeter; again watching...


OOC:
"One-five-zero thousand kilo mark zero plane mark plus four-five star-zero relative to target planetoid"

translates to:

150'000km from the moon, zero degrees above the orbital plane, and 45 degrees clockwise from a line drawn from the moon to the system's star. It's a little more complicated than that, having to take into acount things like the fact we're measuring from a moon, but this isn't an astrogation lesson, and I just realised it's 7am( :shock: ), so I think I'll go sleep now.

...and yes, Kanuckistani ships are way overgunned; that's why we have a small fleet; currently only 151 ships, of which 90 are patrol/combatants or corvettes.

"Control, this is Fang Leader. My sensors are detecting a power build up and..." The transmission dissolved into a snarled curse as the immense starship leapt across space without any appreciable warning. "Control, I am detecting another power buildup... Far greater than before. Control, Fang Leader believes they may be charging a weapon. Fang Flight requests permission to engage!"

Looking up, the communications officer awaited only the shaken head of the captain before giving his response. "Negative, Fang Leader. Maintain cloak and keep your distance. Do not engage."

"Control, Fang Leader is observing a massive power buildup. Our sensors have exceeded their capacity to record the power involved. Fang Leader..." At that point, the heavy cannon lashed out, blasting a gaping hole through five thousand kilometers of solid rock.

"Control, this is Fang Leader! Fang Leader believes he has just witnessed the beginning of a random-fire pattern. Fang Leader requests permission to engage! came the frantic call for orders over the encrypted communications link.

"Negative, Negative!" insisted the young kil at the station. "Do not open fire!"

"Control, Fang Leader is engaging the target in self-defense!"

Eyes wide, Admiral dai Hhlorres snatched up the microphone. "Fang Leader, you incompetant fool, you are relieved! Fang Two, this is Admrial Kohrg dai Hhlorres. I am ordering you to destroy Fang Leader if you so much as think he is about to attack the unknown vessel. Return to the hangar."

Setting the microphone back down, the Admiral turned to his sensor operators. "Analysis."

"My Lord, preliminary reports are unable to identify the weapon fired." admitted the sensor specialist with a deep, submissive bow. "We believe it was some form of high-energy particle weapon. Regardless of the type of weapon fired, it appears to have a destructive potential on par with our phase transit cannon. Judging by the telemetry returned by Fang Flight... The unknown vessel has many such weapons, as opposed to our ship, to which the PTC is an axially-mounted main gun."

Admiral dai Hhlorres flared his nostrils as he recieved the news with a grunt and an impassive face. Digesting the information in silence, he formed a plan of action. This would not be a first contact like that with the Apes. A ship of this power, this close to his homeworld while they were this weak... It could destroy his new nation before it could really have a chance to grow.

"Captain Kierlach. Bring us closer to the unknown vessel. Broadcast a standard hail on all frequencies as we close, and continue broadcasting until we recieve a response." As he spoke, a thought struck him. "Broadcast in both Kilrathi and English. Order the pilots to their fighters. Have them armed for capital ship attack. If this goes poorly, I want a squadron of Paktahn bombers to be the first off the flight deck before that behemoth swats us from the stars. We will not initiate a conflict, but if we die at their hands, by the ancestors, we will have our revenge. All the same... This is a mere precaution. We are not to take any aggressive actions unless provoked. Perhaps we can come out of this encounter with a powerful friend."

Nodding, the Captain set about bringing the Admiral's wishes to reality. "Helm, place us on an intercept course, all engines ahead one half." she ordered. "Flight Operations, recover the Strakha patrol, and reinforce the squadron of Dralthi already on patrol with a squadron of Paktahn. Place a second on emergency launch status until further notice. Place all other squadrons on immediate standby."

Wing Commander :). Played every Wing Commander game there was. Of course, after Kilrah was destroyed, weren't the Kilrathi forced to disassemble their warships (most of them)?

OOC, even though I am a modern tech nation, do you mind if I roleplay as TC forces?

OOC: They were forced to do a dramatic scale-back in forces, but they weren't made to disassemble all of them, and the novelizations suggest that they got away with a lot more military vessels than they really should have because of Terran guilt over bombing Kilrah to dust.

That and my Republic is also a splinter group with a dreadnought, four carriers, a few handfuls of cruisers, destroyers, and corvettes, and a cat-load of fighters. There's already a TC in the works, but you're more than welcome to play the UBW, the FRL, or even the Nephilim if you want. :D Perhaps we Wing Commander nations should even make our own region.

*OOCly Claps and whistels* Maby my nation will meet yours sometime, if we ever venture that far into space. Being of similar origin (cat) it would be an intresting meeting. :D Keep it up..

I'm not a WC nation, ill just roleplay as one if you want.

A Border World's strike fleet composed of the cruiser BWS Stalfast, and 2 heavy destroyer/carriers, the BWS Century, and the BWS Legionairre jumps into the system, and launches 3 Banshee's as a patrol.

OOC: What was the Landreich, exactly?

"Ma'am, alien fleet is launching strike craft and adjusting course to.."

"I can see that," Ch'cye cut the hunam officer off, her attention drawn to the textual break-down of the strangers' communication-protocal, recieved moments befor.

"New contacts inbound twenty light-miniutes out; three heavies and three strike craft by the look of it."

The Captain quickly cycled back to her tactical repeter, mentally noting sizes, speeds, configurations and disposition, "Can you send a reply to the first group yet?"

The comm tech took a moment to confer with colleges elsewhere in the ship, "We belive we should be able to match their digital data-encoding protocalls, sir; it may be a little sketchy, but they should be able to chean it up easily enough on their end."

The fox-like woman nodded, "Do it then; tightbeam to the first group only." She only had to wait a moment befor the forward viewscreen changed to show what would be transmitted; a blinking icon in the corner indicating live transmission.

On it, the red furred vulpine captain sat centered in her chair upon the command dias, dressed in Naval White powered armour marked with her rank and station, helm retracted unseen into the collar; the translucent forms of varriable holographic consoles surrounding her; a similarly dressed hunam officer of lesser rank just visible off to the side behind his work station.

"Unidentifyed vessels," she began in English, voice projecting more authority than most could otherwise associate with one of her four-foot tall stature, "This is Captain Ch'cye of the Kanuckistani High Gaurd Vessel Target Drone. We have recived your transmission, but are thusfar unable to fully decypher your transmission encoding protocalls. Please identify yourselves and your intent within this system via either analouge or mirroring our data encoding to facilitate meaningful communication."

"Uhh, fleet, it looks like an alien fleet."

BWS Century on broadwave transmission

Alien Fleet, identify self.

"Ensign, prepare capship missiles."

OOC: My ships are not getting your transmissions. Also, you are aware this is a Wing Commander RP?

OOC: My ships are not getting your transmissions. Also, you are aware this is a Wing Commander RP?

OOC: That's good, because you shouldn't be able to recive them; tightbeaming them in another direction and all :wink:

And no, the last time I looked, there was nothing saying this was a WC RP, but the thread title did say this was a space RP. :wink:

EDIT: BTW, could you include some detail in your posts? They're pretty vauge.

"My Lord... We are recieving a transmission from the unknown vessel. Their transmission protocols differ from ours by a small margin. I can extract the audio."

A moment's thought was all that Admiral dai Hhlorres required. Nodding to Captain Kierlach, he sat in silence atop his command throne. The Captain, crossing the bridge to take up a position behind the young kil manning the communication station, set a paw on the junior officer's shoulder.

"Put it on the bridge speakers."

Nodding, the young officer carried out the command. Within moments the alien Captain's voice rang from bulkhead to bulkhead. The majority of the warriors working the bridge systems spoke not so much as a word of English, but to the Captain and the Admiral, the meaning could not be more clear:

"Unidentified vessels, this is Captain Ch'cye of the Kanuckistani High Guard Vessel Target Drone. We have recived your transmission, but are thusfar unable to fully decypher your transmission encoding protocalls. Please identify yourselves and your intent within this system via either analouge or mirroring our data encoding to facilitate meaningful communication."

Rising from his command throne, the Admiral made his way across the bridge to flank the Captain. "Well, you heard the woman." he growled, his gravelly voice making the Kilrathi words seem that much more guttural. "Give me an open channel, analog transmission."

Nodding so deeply as to nearly qualify as a bow, the young kil carried out the order, handing his Admiral the microphone.

"This is Admiral Kohrg dai Hhlorres onboard the Takh'lath." he began in accented English. "Our patrols detected your ship soon after we entered this system. What claim do you hold over this area of space?"

The Admiral had barely released the broadcast button when the alarms began to sound.

"Report!"

"Three ships have just entered sensor range, My Lord. They appear to be two destroyers and a cruiser... No match for the Takh'lath."

The Admiral's brow furrowed. "Affiliation?"

"Their transponder codes identify them as being vessels of the Union of Border Worlds." The sensor operator turned to look over his shoulder. "They are Terran, my lord."

OOC: Did that transmission include visual?

OOC: Nope. Audio only

OOC: I really wish I could have used the Fuzzy Kitten for this thread just so I could see your characters' reactions, but it's busy elsewhere tracking down terrorists :(

IC:
"Ma'am, they're responding; analog, voice only."

With a few keystrokes the captain broght it up for review befor responding, "Give me an analog tightbeam to their fleet; audio/visual."

"Sir."

Once more Ch'cye apeared upon the screen, image as it had been befor; her tone unchanged from the previous transmission, "We have little intrest in this system beyond target practice and mass-fuel extraction. We have more intrest in knowing your nation and port of origin and intentions within this system."

Another keystroke terminated the transmission, the Captain turning to the bridge's comm tech, "Flag our situation for the Admiralty's imediate review"

"Sir," and it was so; the undetectible, untracible, unjammible zero-point datalink that all Kanuckistani ships shared with hidden bases had for over a century maintained real-time dataflow and situational awarness between the Brass and units in the field, constantly relaying comm trafic, sensor reading, engineering reports; everything to pass through the ship's conputers, in fact. It was a simple matter for the officer to alert his peers on the other end of the infinitly-short line of his captain's order.

Nodding to the communications officer, the Admiral took his seat atop the command throne, letting the camera broadcast his image across the void to the smaller ship. Pausing to let his relatively imposing appearance have its usual effect, he began.

"I speak to you from the flagship of the Republic of Kilrathi Clans." he answered calmly. "Our home port is the capital itself. Our intentions in this system are simple: We wish to secure it and set up a forward defense base somewhere within its confines. This system is only a single jump from our new capital, and thus strategically important to the Republic. I trust you have no territorial claims to this region of space."

The turret tracked slowly about, following the course of the fragment as it hurtled inwards, threatening the safety of the massive dreadnought. Thousands of tons of tumbling rock, streaking through space, the far flung remenants of a shattered world.

Perhaps a home once clung to that forgotten piece of land, or a temple. Maybe it was a part of a farmer's field, or a forest where many a kil had his first hunt. No longer did it matter, not now that the dreaded temblor bomb had shaken mighty Kilrah apart.

The order came down from the bridge: The fragment's path intersected that of the dreadnought. It must be destroyed. The gunner's fangs gleamed in the dull light of the turret as his lips curled back. Oh, that it were that blasted terran beneath his guns and not a fragment of his long lost world. With a quick prayer for forgiveness, he clamped down on his trigger. A lance of coherent energy stabbed out from his cannon, spearing into the heart of the fragment, and blasting it to dust.

So died another piece of Kilrah.

---

From his place in the Dreadnought's CIC, Admiral Kohrg dai Hhlorres watched another piece of his homeworld die. Dimly, a piece of him wondered if that had been the field where he had made his first kill, or perhaps if it had held the barracks where he had spent his first night as a warrior. Perhaps it even held the grave of his beloved mate. The happiest thought coursing through his mind at that moment was that at least his mate had not lived to see the homeworld reduced to this. Had she not been many eights of years dead, had she not died bringing their first son into the world, it would have certainly killed her to see her home reduced from the seat of power for the entire empire to a mere navigational hazard.

Kohrg snarled. The Council of Clans. Bah! As if they represented the clans of Kilrah! Lowborn scum clutching at power, that was all they were. Not one of them could make the grand Kilrathi empire strong again. Kohrg was not so vain as to claim even in his own mind that only he had sufficient vision to accomplish that great task... But as he gazed upon the viewscreen and its display of the hurtling fragments of what was once his home, he could not name a single kil on the council that he could follow and retain his honour. More, there were those who agreed with him, more than a hundred million of his fellow kil, a number that grew every day. He had a responsibility to those brave warriors and their families, a responsibility to prove himself worthy of that honour.

"Set a course for the jump point." Kohrg ordered, rising from his throne-like command chair. "Take us to our new home."

Sounds like um... Wingcommander

Sounds like um... Wing Commander

OOC: That would be because it is

Sounds like um... Wing Commander

OOC: That would be because it is

really I never wold have guesses. :roll:

Glad I could be of service. :)

The three Banshees move closer to the Kilrathi fleet, and hail the Kilrathi fleet.

Coming around on the trio of Banshee fighters from their nine o' clock position, the pair of Vaktoth heavy fighters were taking no precautions, not with the apes. The trio of Banshees couldn't possibly be a threat to the massive dreadnought... But if the humans had created a bomb that could destroy an entire world and fit onto a simple fighter, what else might they have created?

"Terran Fighters... What business have you here, apes?"

Nodding to the communications officer, the Admiral took his seat atop the command throne, letting the camera broadcast his image across the void to the smaller ship. Pausing to let his relatively imposing appearance have its usual effect, he began.

"I speak to you from the flagship of the Republic of Kilrathi Clans." he answered calmly. "Our home port is the capital itself. Our intentions in this system are simple: We wish to secure it and set up a forward defense base somewhere within its confines. This system is only a single jump from our new capital, and thus strategically important to the Republic. I trust you have no territorial claims to this region of space."

Ch'cye took several minutes to consider her reply, befor again signiling the comm tech to transmit another tightbeam reply.

"Admiral," she began, "Like I said, this system is of little importance to us, but it is not within my authority to decide weather or not my nation would like to exercise claim to this territory. The Admiralty has been alerted to the situation; when we have their reply, so shall you."

The Admiral took a moment to consider the message before replying. Another of his kind might have distrusted the alien captain simply out of xenophobia and a lack of understanding over how one could deal fairly from a position of strength. Certainly, one of Thrakkath's lackeys would have been carefully positioning his vessel to destroy the other with a quick blast from the phase transit cannon.

Not Kohrg. He recognized that when in a position of true strength, there was no need for deciet. If they truly wanted this system, they could likely have targeted those weapons upon his dreadnought the moment he came into range and destroyed him. No, they appeared to be dealing fairly with him, and so would he do with them.

"Fortunately," he replied, "I am within my authority to decide such things. Should your nation have no claim to this system, the Republic of Kilrathi Clans would care to make such a claim. We would allow your vessel to continue its weapons tests , albiet under supervision. You must understand my position on that matter. Our species have just met, and you have a powerful warship but one jump from our capital. That requires a degree of caution."

Banshee Pilot:

Raider: "Sir, 3 Vaktoths on our tail... screen is lighting up."

"Terran Fighters, what business have you here, apes?"

Raider: "Wing Leader?"

Scimitar: "Kilrathi pilots, we are only here to investigate a reported disturbance."

The lead pilot's lips curled up in a snarl. He had orders to be civil to the humans... But what he did when he wasn't broadcasting was his own business. Calming his facial expression, he keyed up his comm system to make his response.

"You are two jumps on the wrong side of Kilrah's graveyard, ape." he replied, his voice barely level. His commander might be able to deal evenly with humans, but this young kil did not seem to have the seasoning yet. "Do not continue more than two hundred klicks along your current course. If you continue past that point, we will assume you are making a strike against our base ship and react accordingly."

And with that, the two Vaktoth heavy fighters peeled away, returning to their place in the patrol pattern, the flight commander keeping one eye on the humans as they moved into the rear portion of his scopes. The war was over, but still he did not trust them.

The Banshees began flying back to the BWS Century. The entire fleet is moving to another location in the area which would give them an excellent view of the new alien fleet.

OOC: You know, there's a hunam visible in the background on the bridge whenever the 'Drone sends a visual.


IC:
The captain listened to the Kilrathi reply befor glancing at her tactical plot; the other group was moving closer...

"Load a wing of interceptors with high-gains and have them recinoiter beta group"

"Aye sir."

-----

A minute later, five Daemon's Bane class unmanned interceptors, each no more than five meters long, departed the KHGV Target Drone's port fighter bay; heavily armoured doors closing behind them. Coming about to face the BW fleet on inertal drives, they quickly accelerated to several thousand kilometers per second. Even so, space was vast, and it would take several minutes befor they could execute their fly-by and set course for home.

-----

Yet another minute later, the Drone's bridge comm tech spoke up, "Captain, message from the Admiralty"

Ch'cye's dull canine claws quickly played across her translucent workstation, taking but a moment to bring up the message; her slitted sky blue eyes taking another to review it's contents.

After breifly mulling over her reply, she signiled the comm tech to tightbeam the Kilrathi fleet again.

"Admiral," she once more began, "It apears we will be exercising non-exclusive access rights to space within one light-month of this system's primary, including non-developed resources and planetoids for purposes of refueling, repairs, and systems calibration."

She paused a moment to let that sink in, "And Admiral, just a heads-up from one ship's commander to another; you can probally expect the Admiralty to launch a recon-in-force of every system within a hundred lightyears of here in the coming weeks. Ch'cye out."

Hiding among the debris of the destroyed planet, the LRRSV George Washington Carver takes detailed sensor readings of the battle. Its six nuclear blaster turrets are fully on line, and their gunners nervously track any fighters that stray too close to the ships positions. The small patrol frigate waits in its concealed position until a detachment of Revelation II detroyers and Sajuuk Cor frigates, along with a light fighter support can arrive on scene.
On the ships bridge, the captain sits in his chair, peering at the large visual-sensors overlay screen positioned in front of him. At sensors consoles all around the bridge, their tense operators looked into their displays. This was a rookie crew, except for the captain, a veteran of 40 years, serving his first 10 as a heavy nuclear blaster gunner on one of the old Peristroyka class battlecruisers. He thought back to his days on the Mikhail Gorbachev, and the engagement with the Agrippa. He was deep in nostalgia when a sudden pop awoke him to the world at hand.

"What was that?"
"Sir, it appears as though there's been a primary fuel cell explosion, sir!"
"You said sir twice."
"Captain, sir."
"Yes, midshipman Smith?"
"Sensors are without power, sir! Turrets are on manual."
"What about the other four fuel cells on board?"
"The explosion blew them out of the circut, sir! The whole area is wrecked! A plasma conduit may have been blown out as well!"
"Damn! Well, what did you morons not manage to mess up?"
"The, er...."
"Yes?"
"Well, I was checking all the hydrogen pipes manually, like Ensign Muller told me too....."
"That idiot. Remind me to put him out of the airlock."
"Well, I told him that he should have asked one of the engineers, but he yelled at me for mouthing off, and put me to work. I was checking the control valves with my wrench, and, well, I sort of......"

KABOOM!!!!!!!

The captain was thrown from his chair, and was prevented from suffering major injuies by the AI's deactivation of artificial gravity.

"Golly, boss. You alright?"
"Yes, computer. Change voice to option 3. He he he."
"YES SIR! I WILL OBEY! FUEL CELLS OFF LINE. HYDROGEN TANKS EXPLOSION! ENGINEERING OFF-LINE! CASUALTIES EXPECTED!"
"Damn. We're dead in space!"

He looked around, and the timid midshipman was gone. Unbeknownst to the captain, he was a secret member of the christian nationalist party, a terrorist orgainzation opposed to left-wing thought.

"He he. A job well done. This sorry ship will be atomized within the hour."

He rushed into his berth, unoccupuied as the crew was in chaos as a result of the exlosion. He grabbed a Desert Eagle, and started to make his way to the engineering compartment.

Meanwhile, the bridge crew was being helped back to their feet by the AI, who had already launched a distress beacon.

(OCC: Your ships should be able to recieve the signal)

IC: Another message came through, this one from the commander of the detachment of destroyers, frigates, and fighters.

"George Washington Carver, this is the Vojislav Kostunica. We know of your situation, and we will be at your position in 10 hours."

Er.........bump?

OOC: LRR, wtf are you talking about????

IC:

BWS Century broadbeam lowverb communication, KC, think Iason.

The message basically asks "Who are you?"

During this time, the BWS Stalfast's PTC cannons are trained on the alien fleet, while the capship missiles are trained on the Kilrathi fleet.

Del. by Att. Em.

OOC: LRR, wtf are you talking about????

IC:

BWS Century broadbeam lowverb communication, KC, think Iason.

The message basically asks "Who are you?"

During this time, the BWS Stalfast's PTC cannons are trained on the alien fleet, while the capship missiles are trained on the Kilrathi fleet.

OCC: I needed an RP to do while it was still acceptably young. But anyway, I always have one of my ships watching major battles. And an exploded planet would be an oppourtunity that my ships would not miss. Basically what happened is that a terrorist blew apart the fusion reactor and backup fuel cells, and he's going to take a hostage and make demands, etc. Or die. But anyway, an LRR battle detachment is coming to your aid. You should be proud.

IC: (The transmission is garbled, as a result of low ship power)

This is.......Washington Carver......Robots......Fleet.....massive malfunctions......in need of......assistan......(transmission ends)

Del. by Att. Em.

IC:

BWS Century broadbeam lowverb communication, KC, think Iason.

The message basically asks "Who are you?"

During this time, the BWS Stalfast's PTC cannons are trained on the alien fleet, while the capship missiles are trained on the Kilrathi fleet.

OOC: Huh? Are you hailing me?

OOC: No battle was occuring... nor was there a planetary explosion... as far as i knew...

OOC: I belive he was reffering to the rather large hole the Target Drone put in that not-so-small moon :wink:





Oh, and LRR? Why would any of us need aid when your people are the one's about to be taken hostage?

Del. by Att. Em.

OOC: Kanuckistan, did you EVER play wing commander? Yes, I am hailing you... In a low beam communication meant for unknown species... because it contains no verbs it is simple.

OOC: No, I haven't :P

BTW, my folks're reffering to you as beta group(ie the second group to arrive); those fighters I launched are coming your way.

IC:
"Ma'am, we're getting some weird blurb over the comms from beta group; AI thinks it's asking us to identify ourselves"

Ch'cye gava an absent nod, "Tightbeam them like the others"

"Sir."

Another moment passed befor the forward screen changed to indicate a live transmission; the scene being sent the same as the Kilrathi had seen, "Unknown vessels," she began as befor, in English, "this is the Kanuckistani High Gaurd Vessel Target Drone; please identify yourselves and your intentions within this system." A keystroke ended the commsend; viewer returning to normal.

OOC: Simply analog transmission as used with the kilrathi.

Del. by Att. Em.

IC:

BWS Century broadbeam lowverb communication, KC, think Iason.

The message basically asks "Who are you?"

During this time, the BWS Stalfast's PTC cannons are trained on the alien fleet, while the capship missiles are trained on the Kilrathi fleet.

OOC: Huh? Are you hailing me?

OOC: No battle was occuring... nor was there a planetary explosion... as far as i knew...

OOC: I belive he was reffering to the rather large hole the Target Drone put in that not-so-small moon :wink:





Oh, and LRR? Why would any of us need aid when your people are the one's about to be taken hostage?

OCC: I was confused. But anyway, my detachment is a good 10 hours away still, and I am about to escalate the situation.

IC: The CNP terrorist (Call him "Phil") proceeded twoards the aft section of the ship. A gaurd stopped him before he was about to enter the engineering compartment. He pulls out his .50 caliber pistol and blows his brains out.

"SIR! GUNSHOTS IN AFT SECTION! CHEMICAL SENSORS DETECT THE PRESENCE OF TRACE SULFUR! ONE CREWMEN PRESUMED DEAD! ASSAILANT PROCEEDING INTO THE ENGINEERING COMPARTMENT!"

The AI's booming synthesised voice got the captain's attention very quickly.

"On screen, AI!"
"I OBEY, MASTER!"
"Damn."

Another voice came over the intercom. It was very shaky and worried-sounding, and the captain thought he heard an ammunition clip eject.

"This is the Christian Nationalist Party! You heathen will pay for your crimes against the lord! If you do not obey, you shall die!"
"YOU ARE NOT THE MASTER, YOU HAVE KILLED! IT IS YOU WHO SHALL BE BROUGHT TO JUSTICE, INGRATE!"
"SILENCE, MACHINE!"
"What are your demands, o intolerant one?"
"We demand control of this ship! We will use it to make the Attican heathen pay for their heresy!"
"Er...... yes. You do that. AI, disable engineering compartment!"
"YES, MASTER!"
"Oh no you don't! The bomb disabled the shutdown routines!"The captain thought to himself; "Damn this ancient ship! No wonder they use it as a training vessel."

Meanwhile, the rest of the LRR detachment was very worried about the apparent destruction of the frigate. They had immediately suspected attican ships of the deed, and planned to exit hyperspace with full weapons power.

"ATTICAN SHIPS! STAND DOWN IMMEDIATELY! YOU ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO EXIT THE AREA!"

As you can tell, these are fighting words. On the bridge of the Max Planck, the captain was justly concerned. In fact, he was planning to drop out of hyperspace, along with his 15 Sajuuk Cor Ion Cannon frigates.

"Attican ships, please do not take hostile actions against the LRR ships. As you may understand, blood is running high out here. Thanks in advance."

Del. by Att. Em.

OOC: Actually, despite the fact that I am playing a Wing Commander faction, this is an open space RP. Any form of space civilization is welcome to jump in.

IC:
"My lord, the... Target Drone requests that we identify the terran ships."

Pausing briefly, the Admiral nodded once. "Prepare a tightbeam transmission identifying them as members of the Union of Border Worlds. Be sure to include how they deserted their homeworld to claim their "independance" from Terra." he ordered. A moment later, he gave a short, barking laugh. "Not too unlike what we have done ourselves. But then... At least we waited until our was no more homeworld to claim our independance. You may transmit the message at your..."

"My lord!" interrupted the kil manning the sensor station. "Multiple hyperspace signatures! At least sixteen, possibly more. My lord, the location of the signatures does not correspond to any known jump point within this system."

"General quarters!" the Admiral snarled. "Suddenly, it begins to get crowded... How have so many ships arrived undetected a mere single jump from our capital?! Hail the Target Drone. With technology such as that ship has, I cannot see how she could not have detected the inbound vessels, even with Apes crewing her ship, but notify her nonetheless. Launch the second squadron of Vaktoth fighters, but make no other aggressive actions."

Just then, something near the far end of the system occurs. I brief burst of energy. As this occurs, MASSIVE, and separate, energy signals are released.

In a broadband hail to the UBW and the KC ships, they say "We have come for you..." in their usual shriek-like voice.

A Tiamat and two Orcas appear from that energy signal. 2 Hydra's appear short after.

OOC: Actually, despite the fact that I am playing a Wing Commander faction, this is an open space RP. Any form of space civilization is welcome to jump in.

IC:
"My lord, the... Target Drone requests that we identify the terran ships."

Pausing briefly, the Admiral nodded once. "Prepare a tightbeam transmission identifying them as members of the Union of Border Worlds. Be sure to include how they deserted their homeworld to claim their "independance" from Terra." he ordered. A moment later, he gave a short, barking laugh. "Not too unlike what we have done ourselves. But then... At least we waited until our was no more homeworld to claim our independance. You may transmit the message at your..."

"My lord!" interrupted the kil manning the sensor station. "Multiple hyperspace signatures! At least sixteen, possibly more. My lord, the location of the signatures does not correspond to any known jump point within this system."

"General quarters!" the Admiral snarled. "Suddenly, it begins to get crowded... How have so many ships arrived undetected a mere single jump from our capital?! Hail the Target Drone. With technology such as that ship has, I cannot see how she could not have detected the inbound vessels, even with Apes crewing her ship, but notify her nonetheless. Launch the second squadron of Vaktoth fighters, but make no other aggressive actions."

OCC: Is those my ships?

Del. by Att. Em.

Del. by Att. Em.

OOC:
Attican, my transmission to you was visual, not just audio, and the ship's captain is a hunamoid fox.

Kilrathi Clans, I wasn't hailing you, but I supose a comm tech or the AI could have queried you.

LRR, are you saying you're 10 hours away at sublight?

IC:
Ch'cye had just finished replying to the UBW ships that they were probally the ship they were looking for, when first one, then another group of ships jumped in, and the UBW fleet suddenly turned tail and started running back to what was presumibly the 'jump point' their FTL system requiored. She took a moment to review the Kilrathi transmission befor taking action.

"Bring all reactors to pre-combat status and begin initialising the Celestial Lense Incurser. All guns and fighters to warm stand-by; charge barrier field to yellow status and bring gravitic deflectors to active watch. And have that recon wing wing around to do a fly-by of contact group gamma instead(OOC: that's you, Nephile)." A series of 'aye's 'sir's and 'ma'am's followed.

-------

Outside, below the broken form of a gutten moon, a shimmering field apeared around the massive bulk of the Target Drone; the ship's power levels spiking to what would be obscene for a vessel ten times it's size, while weapons blusters began going through pre-combat warm-up routines.

Elsewhere, a wing of five Daemon's Bane class unmanned fighters swung around on inertial drives, the Border Worlds fleet forgotten; now closing on the Nephile ships at ten thousand kilometers per seconds in preperation of a fly-by pass so their high-gain sensor packs could execute a detailed scan.

Del. by Att. Em.

More ships begin "Hyperjumping" in, as two Kraken-class Shipkillers jump in with Orca and Hydra escorts.

All of the ships of this fleet begin pouring out fighters, such as Mantas, Morays, Lampreys, Devil Rays, Skates, Squids, Stingrays, and some Rays.

The two Kraken-class shipkillers are obviously aiming their weapons at the Kanuckistanni fleet, as the Tiamat aims at the UBW fleet.

OOC: 'Jumping' is a term coined in the Wing Commander series. You see, 'Hyperspace' is not possible in WC, so they use Jump Points, which are magnetic irregularities in space, that, with a jump drive, can be accessed and used to go to another system. There are links between them, usually two way. There are some one ways, and it is possible to use black holes, but dangerous. The new Nephilim fleet is using an unknown technology, which will be codenamed 'Hyperjump', which apparently needs no exit jump point, as they did NOT jump in from any known source.

OOC2: These are ship statistics:

Terran Confederation: http://www.wcnews.com/ships/wc3confed.shtml
Terran Confederation2: http://www.wcnews.com/ships/wc4confed.shtml
Terran Confederation3: http://www.wcnews.com/ships/wcpconfed.shtml
Union of Border Worlds: http://www.wcnews.com/ships/wc4bw.shtml
Kilrathi during the War: http://www.wcnews.com/ships/wc3kilrathi.shtml
Kilrathi after the War: http://www.wcnews.com/ships/wc4kilrathi.shtml
Nephilim: http://www.wcnews.com/ships/wcpnephilim.shtml

Del. by Att. Em.

OOC:
...
Ya know, on second thougth, I'm not going to spoil the suprise you're going to get when you engage my ship...

Oh, and can we get some numbers for that fleet?

Kilrathi Clans, are you going to respond to my transmission on the last page? The one regaurding our territorial claims?

IC:
Ch'cye cursed, "Battle Stations. Barrier Field to red status, gravitic deflectors to twitch settings. All weapons hot, but hold fire until my command."

"Ma'am, two large gamma contacts apear to be targeting us."

"I see that; status on recon wing?"

"They'll be making their fly-by any time now"

OOC: Those fighters are traveling at around 10'000km/s; from the links you gave, that looks to be several times faster than your weapons fire travels... weird, but these things happen when you mix universes *shrugs*.

They'll be around 5'000km from your ships at the closest point in their fly-by, BTW.

The Admiral's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the Tiamat-class vessel open up on the UBW ship. The unbelievable energies tearing through the vessel... Humans or not, he said a brief prayer for their souls. Moments later, he was giving orders.

"Transmit our situation to Tr'Kpa. Order them not to reinforce us. If the Nephilim make it past us, they will need every ship at the new capitol." he growled. "Launch all fighters. All guns, fire at will. Prepare to engage the nearest dreadnought. As soon as it is in range, fire the phase transit cannon, but by the Codex, close formation with the Target Drone as much as they will allow us. Any attack on their ship is to be treated as if it were directed at a ship of the Kilrathi Navy. Transmit those exact words to them, and tell them that their claim to this system is acceptable so long as they make no move against Tr'Kpa."

OOC:
Attican, my transmission to you was visual, not just audio, and the ship's captain is a hunamoid fox.

Kilrathi Clans, I wasn't hailing you, but I supose a comm tech or the AI could have queried you.

LRR, are you saying you're 10 hours away at sublight?

IC:
Ch'cye had just finished replying to the UBW ships that they were probally the ship they were looking for, when first one, then another group of ships jumped in, and the UBW fleet suddenly turned tail and started running back to what was presumibly the 'jump point' their FTL system requiored. She took a moment to review the Kilrathi transmission befor taking action.

"Bring all reactors to pre-combat status and begin initialising the Celestial Lense Incurser. All guns and fighters to warm stand-by; charge barrier field to yellow status and bring gravitic deflectors to active watch. And have that recon wing wing around to do a fly-by of contact group gamma instead(OOC: that's you, Nephile)." A series of 'aye's 'sir's and 'ma'am's followed.

-------

Outside, below the broken form of a gutten moon, a shimmering field apeared around the massive bulk of the Target Drone; the ship's power levels spiking to what would be obscene for a vessel ten times it's size, while weapons blusters began going through pre-combat warm-up routines.

Elsewhere, a wing of five Daemon's Bane class unmanned fighters swung around on inertial drives, the Border Worlds fleet forgotten; now closing on the Nephile ships at ten thousand kilometers per seconds in preperation of a fly-by pass so their high-gain sensor packs could execute a detailed scan.

OCC: Well, now its more like 7 hours. The detachment didn't want to make a giant h-space signature in the middle of a possible battle.

Del. by Att. Em.

Del. by Att. Em.

OOC: My ships are balanced(it's just a fairly unconventional balance), WC ships are just dirt-slow :wink: :P You're the only one here who's insisting this take place in another universe.

Also, I don't have a fleet; I'm fielding a singular Thunderhead-class Superfortress and it's unmanned fighter compliment of 2500 Daemon's Bane class interceptors.

There is a reason I've never fielded more than one capital ship at a time befor; a reason I only have seven Thunderheads in my entire fleet; and a reason Kanuckistan doesn't invest in anything more than drone fighters. I suspect you'll see why in a moment...


IC:
The Target Drone doesn't move, doesn't fire, doesn't react in any way in fact; looking like she may infact live up to her name.

That is, until the Nephilim bombers began launching...

Suddenly, hundreds of weapons blisters came to life, fast tracking turrets locking on to hordes of fightercraft that were spitting distance for Kanuckistani weapons. Befor the last torpedos even left the bombers that spawned them, thousands of light and medium weapons opened up from the surface of the Kanuckistani warship; a point-defence network designed to stop relativistic missiles having no trouble against strike craft or torpedos alike as each inbound fighter was introduced to more coherent energy than the world's combined nuclear stockpile during the hight of the cold war could have ever hoped to yeild.

But that was not the end of her fire; a pair of heavy cannon locking on to each of the two Kraken-class shipkillers that had targeted, but had yet to fire upon, the Target Drone; the buildup to fire took somewhat longer than that which cored the still-glowing moon, but when it came, the reason was self evident; supercharged lances erupting from the great vessel, spearing through space at speeds just this side of impossible; each two and a half time as powerful as that loosed upon the ravaged rock earlier, two beams were set upon each of the alien ships with a simple mandate; to sustain their assault until each Kraken had been burnt to less than dust. The enemy stood little chance, lible to collapse at once befor the titanic onslaught, but nevertheless they would be relentless in their execution. Nothing would survive.

Del. by Att. Em.

OOC: A few things... If you are seeing UBW, TC, and KIL ships in the same place, it's fair to assume that it's in the Wing Commander universe...

You see, in the Wing Commander universe, there is no inertia in space... play the game :).

IC: As the two Krakens ignited in flame, the Tiamat fired on the Kanuckistani ship. The Hyperjump-point opens up again, and 3 more Krakens fly thru, and another Tiamat. In another point of space, deep in Terran territory, another Hyperjump-point opens, and 3 Leviathans fly thru.

OOC: I entered this when there was only Kil; you're the one who assumed it was a WC RP and brought in the other factions. The thread starter has said several times now that this is an open, general space RP, and I will continue treating it as such. End of story.

You've also not responded to the fighters that I had do a flyby of your ships earlier, or the onslaught I unleashed upon your fighters(there's no way I can see any having escaped alive, but they're your ships, so I can't exactly dictate damage and losses).

Oh, and I'll be responding ICly after Kilrathi Clans posts, not befor. You know, taking turns; this isn't a timed event ;)

Del. by Att. Em.

OOC: Then it is unfair to say that your fighters travel at 10,000kps while all others are travelling at around 1000. I am also adding to the fact that the Nephilim fleet launched HUGE numbers of fighters, numbering in the thousands.

OOC: I've already established fighter speeds for my country's tech base; if anything, I'm lowballing them.

And fighters won't do you any good against a Kanuckistani capital ship; as far as strikecraft are concerned, it has a kill-zone the better part of a light second in radium.

Del. by Att. Em.

My Dwarf scores a +12 hit on your Ogre!

OOC: Look at the context; it was a typo, and should have read 'light second in radius'. Combine FTL sensors, lightspeed weapons(and, realisticly, virtually all beam weapons would travel at near-cee), and a half-decent targeting computer, and it's quite realistic(only limiting factor being the beam propigation speed). It's not my fault my tech-base doesn't mesh well with that of WC; it was determined long befor this thread. If you want to ignore me for not jumping through your hoops when you practicly start hijacking someone else's thread, that's fine with me.

And, actually, the main weapons would probally still be quite dangerous at a range in the lightyears; tho the fact they propigate at just under the speed of light somewhat limits the list of viable targets :wink:


*pokes Kilrathi Clans*

Del. by Att. Em.

Kanuckistan, the problem is, it also doesnt mesh well with KCs ships, since they are ALSO of wing commander origin!

OOC: I doubt most tech bases would mesh well with WC; I wouldn't be suprised if KC was planning on dynamicly rebalancing stats, and/or just didn't care that much about them.

This is an open space RP; I highly doubt he never considered the possibility that someone using radicly different technology might decide to participate.

OOC:

Attican Empire:
I invited you to create the UBW not because I wanted to make this an exclusively Wing Commander RP, but rather because I wanted to encourage RP, and I thought it might be interesting to play my Admiral off the Border Worlders. You have since committed acts that border on thread hijacking by insisting that everyone else play Wing Commander nations, despite the fact that I have stated in uncertain terms that I am simply playing the Kilrathi because I have always liked the Kilrathi, and not because I want to play an exclusively Wing Commander roleplay. Your bickering and attempts to completely control the situation have done nothing more useful than to cause everyone involved to cease having fun.

This is a consent-based RP, and central to obtaining my consent to do something is that I must be having fun. I don't care if you destroy my nation and kill off my characters, so long as I have fun in the process. I am not having fun here, and I doubt Kanuckistan is either. Lunatic Retard Robots appears to have enjoyed this so little he actually abandoned the thread. On top of that, I can point to three separate incidents of Godmoding within this thread.

1) The arrival of the UBW battlegroup. We are one jump past Tr'Kpa, which is another jump past the graveyard of Kilrah. If you are playing the Union of Border Worlds from Wing Commander, you would have had to make no less than ten jumps through Kilrathi-held territory to get here. Someone would have stopped you. I put up with it because I could put it down to a simple misunderstanding. Just because I was anal enough to search out a star map of Kilrathi space doesn't mean you had to be. When I made reference to the fact that we were one jump away from the capital, Tr'Kpa, and also referenced the fact that Tr'Kpa was one jump away from Kilrah itself, you really should have gotten the point. Even so, even had you known all this, I would have been willing to overlook it on the basis that I did sort of invite you, even if I didn't think you would act upon that invitation by suddenly appearing with not one but two Escort Carriers deep within Kilrathi space.

(A feat, might I add, accomplished only three times historically in the games: Once, by Christopher Blair when he flew to Kilrah in a cloaking fighter, once by Angel Devereaux's Special Operations team, who were promptly captured, and once by the TCS Tarawa, admittedly a ship of the same class as your escort carriers. The Tarawa was only able to accomplish this feat thanks to a massive diversionary attack on the part of the Terran Confederation Navy.)

That brings us to...

2) ...The arrival of the TCS Eisen. The UBW battlegroup, I can forgive. The Eisen arrived after I quite clearly stated that you were deep in Kilrathi space, and could not reach this system without passing through our capital system, something analogous to me trying to fly my Kilrathi dreadnought past Earth without even getting queried by the system defense force: Not going to happen. The Eisen, however, simply appeared in-system, after I had made mention of why this could not happen. Perhaps I did not make mention clearly enough, but mention was made.

3) Finally, we have the matter of the Nephilim fighters. I was not terribly pleased with the arrival of the Nephilim to begin with, seeing as I had earlier asked that we not start any wars here. The Nephilim, however, had arrived, and at first I was willing to play along. Normally, your indiscression here would be something I would be willing to overlook for the sake of good storytelling, but compounded with everything else, and with the fact that this thread is no longer fun, I will not.

"Too many to count" is not an appropriate number when one is listing forces for a battle.

Attican Empire, for three counts of godmoding, as well as for leeching all the fun from this thread like some form of demented vampire, you are summarily ignored.

Kanuckistan:
My apologies for the way this roleplay has degraded. To confirm your assumption, I have some relatively basic stats for the Kilrathi ships, but I was generally going to play it fast and loose.

(IE: A Darket is fast, a Vaktoth isn't quite so fast, a Strakha is invisible to most sensors, and the Dreadnought is very slow, but also extremely tough on account of its being twenty two kilometers long.)

I would like to suggest that, on account of my ignoring Attican Empire, we return the roleplay to a point before the arrival of the UBW ships and take it from there. Once again, I apologize for the way this roleplay has gone, but I have high hopes that we can yet salvage it.

Cheers,
Kilrathi Clans

I am officially dropping out of this thread.

I am sorry I did not want to search the starmap of wcnews.com which is a PNG file, and is very difficult to search, in and of itself.

I thought I would let you know that Tr'Kpa is 3 jump points from the nearest Union of Border World's systems, Kurasawa. The jump points are as follows: Kurasawa -> Hyperion, Hyperion -> Kilrah, Kilrah -> Tr'Kpa.

In fact, during the Goddard-Sivar campaign, the TCS Tiger's Claw made use of the Kurasawa and Hyperion systems.

Also, the fact that the Kilrathi Empire fell, and the majority of their warships were disassembled would relate to the fact that it would relatively easy to invade Kilrathi space.

I have sent my unofficial response to your thread to KC in T-Gram. Consider the Terran Confederation, the Union of Border Worlds, and the Nephilim Invasion Fleet destroyed in this RP.

OOC: I would like to point out that if this is NOT a WC RP, Tr'Kpa and Kilrah don't even exist.

"Ma'am, alien fleet is launching strike craft and adjusting course to.."

"I can see that," Ch'cye cut the hunam officer off, her attention drawn to the textual break-down of the strangers' communication-protocal, recieved moments before, "Can you send a reply to the first group yet?"

The comm tech took a moment to confer with colleges elsewhere in the ship, "We belive we should be able to match their digital data-encoding protocalls, sir; it may be a little sketchy, but they should be able to chean it up easily enough on their end."

The fox-like woman nodded, "Do it then; tightbeam to the first group only." She only had to wait a moment befor the forward viewscreen changed to show what would be transmitted; a blinking icon in the corner indicating live transmission.

On it, the red furred vulpine captain sat centered in her chair upon the command dias, dressed in Naval White powered armour marked with her rank and station, helm retracted unseen into the collar; the translucent forms of varriable holographic consoles surrounding her; a similarly dressed hunam officer of lesser rank just visible off to the side behind his work station.

"Unidentifyed vessels," she began in English, voice projecting more authority than most could otherwise associate with one of her four-foot tall stature, "This is Captain Ch'cye of the Kanuckistani High Gaurd Vessel Target Drone. We have recived your transmission, but are thusfar unable to fully decypher your transmission encoding protocalls. Please identify yourselves and your intent within this system via either analouge or mirroring our data encoding to facilitate meaningful communication."

OOC: That's the post right after the UBW fleet jumped in, edited to exclude mention of them. That's where you wanted to restart from, right?





I OOC: I would like to point out that if this is NOT a WC RP, Tr'Kpa and Kilrah don't even exist.

OOC: Wow, you're narrow minded; ever hear of a cross-over? Ya know, taking elements of one universe and exporting them into another? :roll: :wink:

Well, then all of my comments previously would also stand on that mindset. Either thare are Wing Commander physics, and WC ships can fly, nor not, and not.

Why can't both work? It's not like we're trying to create a coheasive sci-fi universe here :wink:

Because, Wing Commander ships, as you stated, fly much slower than your ships, because of the modified WC physics. I will re-enter the thread IF you will account for this, otherwise, I will not. And I have already refuted KCs godmod claims, in a tgram to him.

OOC: I don't really care if you stay or go.

Fact: we're using different technologies.

Fact: Different technologies have, *gasp*, difference performances.

Big deal. Who cares? Only you, aparently. :roll:


You remind me of a guy I know who insisted it was impossible to mix fantasy and sci-fi :roll:

It is impossible, if one side refuses to make sacrafices for the sake of roleplayability. It is impossible to even have combat if one side has such a performance enhancement over another side.

Ah, now you're talking ballance issues; that's different.

First of all, this thread wasn't intended for combat.

Secondly, you were pulling what was suposed to be an uber fleet out of your rear.

And finally, life just isn't fair; you can't expect others to comprimise just because what you've brought to the table can't measure up(especily for such a controling, godmodding, bare-bones RPer like yourself). Tech-base aside, a Superfortress is a $30 trillion USD fleet-killer; if things hadn't gone FUBAR for you in combat, something's seriously wrong. :wink:

I'm -sorry- that I was apparently roleplaying Wing Commander-esque!

OOC:
The problem was that you were trying to force me to RP WC-esque, when the thread-starter clearly said on several ocasions that it was an open space RP.