NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Part I: and so it begins.

The Blademasterian military, one of the most expensive military fleets in the Extra-Solar Union of Systems. Aslo one of the weakest. Our most advanced technology is over a century old, our technology has stagnated. It is time for something new. These thoughts, along with a millino others ran through The Emperor's mind as he "sat" apon his throne. His avatar was fully humanoid in appaearance, but still just a robotic body like the millions of other pawns he controlled. The Artificial Sentience sighed. He hated when he started thinking about the state of his nation. They postured, claimed, and designed, but still, centuries old ships served common tasks in the fleet, the Artificial Intelligences were stored in massive containers, their robotic combat bodies badly designed. He had to do something, he finally decided. But what to do... what to do. It was time to accelerate technology in the Black Empire, the only solution that came to him was war... but war in the Empire's current state would bring disastorous results... perhaps a civil war? He would have to think on this later. For now, he went back to commanding his empire. Hours later, he had decided. He would hire some mecenaries to attack unimportant points throughout the empire, and when the uselessness of the Iron Navy was proven, it would have to be upgraded. He began making plans, contacting mercenary groups, and siphoning off some of the empire's funds discreetly.

Little did The Eriks Artificial Sentience know, there would be far more disastorous consequences than what he expected...

OOC: Part II: enter the mercenaries

The Emperor had picked three merc outfits that suited his needs. The first two would be ordered to perform attacks on his targets, and the thrid would be held in reserve for a very special operation. The Forces of Skiss and Jordaxia had been selected for the assaults, and their payment, and transports to bring them to Andromeda had been dipatched. The finer points of the third mercenary force's contract was still being worked out, the Aegeans had been selected for the operation. With the primary mercenaries... Operation Incompetence as the Emperor had dubbed it, was set to begin. The forces would move quickly, setting up a base of operations within the uninhabited Kazak system, they would perform strikes on the three Blademasterian systems. The Blademasterian navy was mostly in docks and shipyards, and that would add to the incompetent appearance. The Emperor had also ordered refits on two of the Supercarriers, to keep them out of the fray. Assumign all went well, the Blademasterian technological institutes would be churning out military technologies, civilian technologies and other innovations. Unfortunately, the Emperor did not understand that technologies cannot be created out of thin air, and Terrorism on a large scale is not akin to a war. The phrase "necessity is the mother of innovation" would not apply to these circumstances. The people would not flock to the banner of science just because the Emperor claimed it would save their lives. Emperor Black had become overconfident, a trend that was beginning to show itself in the older Artificial Sentience models.

Jack Edwards, a retired military officer gazed up at the sky. He had had an uncanny ability to sense an impending attack during his military days. His squad of commandos had always been ready when the enemy attacked, even in the darkest hour of night. Now, that sense was tingling again. He knew something was going to happen, but He did not know what. Jack was a psychic, rated at "level 1, with possibility to improve" by the military. He posessed rudimentary skills, but they were not enough for the military to have even informed him of his talent, despite the fact that they could have trained him rigorously to become a psychic. So he called it a hunch. A hunch that was always right. Jack was a professional, he did not panic. He ran the possibilities through his mind, an enemy attack, no, the emperor would have informed the empire, and he wouldn't miss something like that. Some sort of treachery? but how? every citizen was monitored by the central computer... perhaps the computer itself, or someone controlling it... but no, they are fiercely loyal to the Emperor, none of them would do that. He continued running possiblities through his mind, never realizing how close he had been to the truth. Despite Jack's dislike of Artificial Constructs, he, like every other Blademasterian citizen, believed in the emperor, that he had the best interests for the whole empire.

The Stage is set, the actors are coming to center, and the floorboards are rotten.

The pilots assembled a few thousand kilometres beyond Varuna, an officially unsettled Kuiper belt object. Since the official Jordaxian government had seen fit to ignore Varuna, the mercenary forces so often called upon to defend the Jordaxian sphere of influence had set up a base camp here. Since they weren't too keen on bringing attention to this fact, the always assembled away from the planetoid, and had all structures underground, to further obscure any attempt by anyone to see what was there. It was not a particularly well kept secret, but it never hurt to keep the imbeciles who couldn't find it away.

There were a large concentration of ships. A few captains used their assisted brains to quickly count them. 62 ships, and one nonsequitor class, minus A. Whoever was hiring could certainly afford it. A quick unencoded, short range message came aboard Captain Dereks internal communications, ringing through his brain. He had gotten used to being intruded on by the communicator. It was an old model, so either it was off, or it was on. He figured he'd rather be occasionally surprised by a voice appearing in his head than having costly delays on his information recieval. So far, he hadn't recalled dying, so it was a good trade off in his view. His crews, over the years, had been less fortunate, some of them bearing silicon/steel combine limbs as scars of their combat. However, with their scarring, came experience. Proof that all of his crew had managed to save their lives. Experience which couldn't be underestimated.
The message was quickly rerouted into his brain, where it commenced playing.

"All Captains of the "unclassified" ships, you are cordially invited to attend dinner aboard the unclassified ship "Where's Waldo". Captain Emmet is personally looking forward to greeting you on board."

The message ended, though he knew who Captain Emmet was. He was the rich guy who owned the -A. A real arrogant hotshot, who, despite being a mercenary, and a quite infamous pirate and smuggler, was convinced that he was an honourable captain of the old high seas. He wasn't mad, far from it. Mad people would never be able to afford such a ship. But eccentric? Certainly. In fact, his eccentricity was quite legendary amongst the disreputable circles of the Jordaxian sphere. His recent liberation of a valuable delivery of Gold Bullion to the Jordaxian Earth History museum, before delivering it to the museum 3 weeks ahead of schedule had gone down particularly well with the media types, who were always looking for the "dashing rogue" on slow news days. Of course, they also served to counterbalance his equally legendary brutality, and reports of him butchering crews of cruise liners and mercilessly destroying and killing the crews of merchant ships because they "took too long to respond", are not normally given airtime on the media.
Nevertheless, he was unlikely to turn nasty on anyone tonight, not with 62 ships literally right outside.

Later that evening, just before the dinner was scheduled to commence, all the captains had arrived in their most formal clothing, some of them little changed from their usual clothes, some wearing expensive suits, one or two examples wearing kilts, obviously proud of their Scottish-ethnic heritage. Most Dereks knew, from some exploit or another. some Dereks wish he never knew, also, because of some exploit or another. And a few that he didn't know. He guessed that this would be their first taste of combat, if he'd never seen them before.
The doors to the dinner hall crashed open, with Emmet posing, half dramatically, half farce.
He was wearing full pirate clothing, complete with eye patch and saber at his side. He shouted
"Now then, ye landlubbers, get eating!"
There was a hesitant laughing at this, captains unsure whether they really wanted to risk crossing him.
As everyone filed into the room, seeing the room redecorated like a 18th century captains room, yet with all the trappings of a modern ships, like heating systems, electronic lighting, etc.

As the meal, pig, with a large red apple in its mouth, along with wine, chicken, assorted salads, and finally, several large chocolate gateaus, were eaten, and the assorted captains of the ships got more inebriated, some even jesting that it wouldn't be legal to fly after what they had drunk (despite the fact that it would actually be illegal)
Emmet stood up, quaking on his pegleg, his drunken-ness exageratting the movement until it looked like he really was on a boat.
"Captains of the deepest ocean!" He began.
"I would like to propose a toast, for our most recent venture together. It has occured to me, that we mercenaries, scum of the Jordaxian empire, are about to break the record for the furthest distance a Jordaxian has ever been from his homeland. So, I say, when we return, we declare this the record, and get ourselves some recognition. It won't mean much, but it'll piss the hell outta the decent folks on their way to the other end of the galaxy in their slowboats, trying to break the record themselves.
So. What do you say then?"
The assembled captains cheered "Yes!" all around him, and he resumed.
"To misdeeds then! And to beating people, even when we aren't trying!"
"To misdeeds!" The Captains echo'd around him.
The party continued until shipdawn, where the lighting of the ship picked up to a daylight level.

The drunken captains were still partying when the transport turned up for them.
On board the transport ship, Emmet was nowhere to be found. They discovered later that he was in an adapted spacesuit, attempting to get outside the ship, so that he could perform the furthest spacewalk from a Jordaxian spaceship.

Khorr' Sskraa enjoyed war much as she enjoyed hunting. She knew that Sskiss felt most alive when they hunted as their ancient ansestors did with only their natural weaponary, raw power, cunning, speed and keen senses that natural selection had given them well over a 100 million cycles ago. So long ago. . .

The Sskiss simply called it "the ancient/old way of being".

But it was not so much victory itself that she enjoyed - although that was definately a part of it. It was something else. . .perhaps it was more the act of ripping apart her enemy tooth and claw. . .Perhaps it was her toothy maw, ripping talons and huge body spattered with the gore of her advaseries. Or perhaps it was simply the feeling of her ancient primordial brain and eons of evolution as it was "set for slaughter/and not eating" [killing]. Then again, perhaps it was all these things. . .

Somewhere out in the "vastness/endless" [space], within another "burning creche/multitudes of fire spheres" [galaxy] the ruler of "keepers/rulers of the metal hand tooths" [Blademasters] had spoke in "hiddeness/silence" [secracy] to her rulers/watchers. She heard "silent words/hidden gestures" [rumers] but nothing beyond that. It did not really matter to her.

All that mattered is that she was summond to the "chambers where weighty decisions were made/discussed" [A seat of power?] where Raak' Krushh' Zzrokk waited, told her where to go, and what was required of her and that was that.

It has been this way since the "egg of the beginning" [sinse the beginning] and will always be so. She twiched in fear of the great ruler, almost twice her mass. Khorr' Sskraa simply stated "agreement of wisdom" with modifers of "absolute obedience" and then she exposed the underside of her neck to the ruler/watcher for good measure - a clear sign of "submission to higher Sskiss". The Sskiss were rarely one for long discussions. . .or debate!

"The higher command, the lower obey". . .It has always been this way, and always will. . .She could not concieve of anything else. All she knew was "duty to race, duty to ruler, duty to brood/creche" Although it was rumered that some of the "others" [aliens] were "different".

She was to rule/command a fleet of "void striders of death" [warships] with a few hundred thousand hungry Sskiss ground troops. She at least enjoyed that prospect, perhaps she would be granted the right to found a "world creche" of her own when she succeeded. . .maybe. . .

The Emperor's avtar sat back in his throne, and laughed. The mercenary strikeforces were in position, excepting the Aegean one... prhaps he could bring them in later. But they were not relevant, he only needed the two forces he had to prove his point. Eriks felt like a player moving the pieces across a chess board. He was positioning his mercenaries and his fleets for attack. The mercenaries would be assembled, and soon they would commence their strikes. He, for the first time in his hundred-year life, was pleased. He sent his first orders to the mercenaries. At their convenience, they were ordered to perform an attack on the Tsunami spacedock in the Blade system. He knew that the forces there would be able to hold off the mercenaries for a while, and so he ordered the mercs to pull out once they began taking heavy losses. He would order them to attack ground targets later, for now... lets start small, test our navy, and theirs.

Jack Edwards sat, along with a few of his ex-military pals. They were discussing what Jack had sensed, was now sensing over dinner.
"Aw, c'mon Jack... sure its no just a migraine?" THis was the statement of Forest 'Blank' Petersen. He had acquired his name due to the fact that his brain appeared to be devoid of any useful knowledge, and had managed to bring several clips of blanks into a combat zone during one operation.
"No, its not really headache, Blank, more of an impending sense of doom." Jack replied.
"So, what do you suggest we do?" Thomas Johnson asked.
"Well, I'm assuming either someone close to the emperor knows about it, or planned it, and the Emperor doesn't otherwise, we'd know about it. The empire does have several psychics, I'm sure they would sense it coming, and besides Tom, the Emperor probably has a good reason for not telling us. I'm proposing we round up the o' squad and prepare to weather the storm. You can still get your hands on some weapons, right Ice?" Jack was perfectly calm, even though he suspected his homeworld would be a major target for whatever was attacking, if it was even coming, something he was starting to doubt.
Joe "Iceman" Harvey had been the team's weapon specialist. He had earned the term iceman when he'd cut down several squads singlehandedly without flinching. He was quiet, and when he spoke, people shut up to listen. "Sure Jack, I can get something."
"Good, lets meet up, say my place at 0430 in three days." Jack was the commanding type, he'd learned to make decisions and live with the consequences. What he said was not debatable.
"Aww c'mon Jack, thats like... early!" Blank, as usual always had his own opinion.
"You know and I know you'll be there." Jack responded.
The next morning, Jack's team was assembled, armed, and asleep in his house. He didn't mind, they would be up when he needed them. He decided to get some rest as well.

(I made a much longer reply, but it got eaten.)

The spherical Jordaxian ships slowly landed on the surface of the planet they had been directed to. It was small, with nearly pluto strength gravity, so the collected crews should be comfortable on the surface. Since the ships were already set at pluto gravity, there would be no need for an extensive installation, they didn't plan to be there for long anyway. Sensor stations were set up to warn in case of visitors, but they doubted it.
All the items that had to be distributed to ships were placed in a prefab warehouse, if you could call it that. It was more like an oversized storage shed. As the captains broke the news of where they were to the crews, who had been in deepsleep chambers until a few hours ago, it was met with the predictable emotions of shock, disbelief, excitment, and anxiety.

Nevertheless, they were going to be paid well for this. Not pretty much enough for them to retire on, though they doubted they would. They'd probably use the money to buy a better ship, with better engines, so they could explore the void, and leave a true legacy behind. The next day, the would see who they were fighting, but the reasons why would not be known for some time.

The assembled mercenary fleet left the planet, the 63 ships rising in a synchronised display.For hours after that, the mercenaries had put together their hyperspace gate (OOC:not necessary for travel, but saves on power) and had gotten into position just outside the gate. Their EW fields were running at full power, and the resolution barriers were at full optimisation. All the hummingbird missiles had been loaded into the tubes, and the engines were raised to optimum performance. All the ships systems had been readied for the attack, and the plan had been made, such as it was. A strike against the largest fighter launching ships, to take out the fighters before they had a chance to hurt the merceneries, followed by targets of opportunity. the leader of the attack, naturally, Captain Emmet had been "elected" leader, though it was really because he assumed command, and he was the most famed of them all.

Close contact was apparently the order of the day. If the enemy couldn't turn their weapons fast enough to hit the ships, and the EW fields could attempt to cut communications between the ships, then they could be in and out without them even knowing what hit them. Submunitions were loaded into the hummingbirds, the expensive types that only helped increase their chances. (expensive submunitions generally mean one thing. Smaller missiles crammed into the belly of the main missile.) The Gravity generators were prepped into probe capsules, limited use, designed to be launched at the fighter bays of the enemy and trap the fighters. They weren't expected to do much, but every little helped, or so they were told. the EW field that the mercenaries had worked on strength in numbers. 63 ships should be able to put up quite an impressive field, and hopefully the enemy wouldn't have an idea how many ships they are facing.The gate was unusually large, but even so, it wasn't enough to allow all the ships through at once. Some would need to use their own drives, meaning that they had to leave earlier than the rest of the fleet. There was a great deal of apprehension towards this fact, as the 12 mercenary ships that left first didn't like leaving their survival to the rest of the fleet turning up in time. As a show, Emmet volunteered to go with the 11 leaving (thats why its 12), leaving Captain Dereks to bring the rest through on time.Just in case, though, the first twelve ships had extra EW fields attached to their hull, hopefully confusing whatever enemies were waiting at the jump point that they were facing far more than they believed. When the other ships turned up, it would only bolster that effect. Anxious now to leave, to get their duty over with, and more importantly, to get paid, the plan was put into motion. An hour after the first ships left, the remaining 51 went through the gate.

*8 hours after second wave leaves*

The tsunami docks dominated space as the first wave of mercenary ships jumped in. The main fleet wasn't there, and all the EW fields were put up straight away. Captain Emmets swore loudly, then ordered the shields to be raised. The ship shook slightly as the gravitational fields were put up, and continued to do so as the diffractive gas hissed out of the hulls containers. The ships shields turned opaque, the gasses settling down inside.
The weapons tubes opened, gas swirling around where new air was exposed to fill.The ships targetting sensors came online at full capacity, locking onto their given targets of oppertunity. Hummingbirds locked on, inside their tubes, and prepped the submunitions. a full launch order was given, and they came thundering out of their tubes. 144 hummingbirds took up their position, and recieved the targetting data they needed. they sped off, bursting out of the shields protection.

Now it was time to see how this would go.

The Tsunami space docks in the blade homesystem were a mid sized dock built by the Blademasterian military as a refit and repair station. They measured abour 40 kilometers in length, and could simultaneously repair and retrofi up to 200 ships.
Currently, the station had 10 Heavy Cruisers, 20 Corvettes, 3 carriers, and a Battleship defending it. The Battleship and two of the carriers were docked. The Battleship was an older Terawind class, and carried 20 fighters, each of the three carriers held 50 fightercraft, and the station had a good 80 for defensive purposes.
When the mercenary ships appeared, raisng shields and scrambling sensors, alarm klaxons sounded across every ship at the station.
Mere seconds before the scrambling fields interrupted the stations communications, a message was sent to the homeworld stating the station was under attack.
"This is Commander Jax of the Tsunami space docks, we are under attack by un-" *communications interrupted*
The Terawind and three carriers began disgorging their fighters, as the remaining docked ships slid from their docks to face the enemy. The Hummingbird missiles slammed into the first carrier, creating heavy damage across the hull and essentially crippling it. Seconds later, escape pods blossomed from the dying craft as the Antimatter containment fields destabilized and the ship exploded in a brilliant display of light. Ten fighters were caught in the blast, and the second carrier took minor damage. The Third carrier was hit by more missiles, and the fighterbay was damaged, trapping 20 fighters inside. Ther battleship and heavy cruisers took the rest of the missiles with minimal damage. the submunitions picked off 35 fighters and two corvettes.
(ooc: remaining forces: 1 battleship, 1 carrier, 10 cruisers, 18 corvettes, 85 fighters)
"Commander Jameson of the Terawind, this is commander Jax of the Tsunami station, we request that you return fire immidiately."
"Ma'am our sensors are encountering seve-*garbled* tracking targets is rather difficult."
"Damnit Ja-*garbled* those ships taken down!"
"Yes ma'am"
The Battleship swung to present its broadside to the unknown number of ships and began indiscrimately firing antimatter tipped missiles, torpedoes, railgun slugs, and particle beams at the targets. The Heavy cruisers did the same, and the corvettes and fighters began to move into visual range to provide precise targeting for the capital ships via tightbeam communications.
The Carrier was backing off, and jumped into jumpspace, to get a message to the Erus shipyard in the hope that they could provide heavier backup for the station.

Captain Emmet was not impressed. They were too slow to get the field up, and the main force hadn't even arrived yet. They were in deep shit. Not only that, some idiot on the bridge didn't secure everything. Potentially lethal projectiles were flying around the bridge, smashing off of consoles, and generally making the job harder. The ships gravity generator couldn't keep up with the erratic maneuvering of the ship, and everyone except the Captain was in the acceleration lounges, protecting them from the erratic gravity pushing them in all directions. Emmet had wires sticking out of his head and back as he was lowered jerkily into the Captains accel' couch. Suddenly, everything settled down in the bridge as he assumed total control of the ship.

Then the enemy fought back.

In his mind, partially scrambled sensor information appeared, showing schematics of the twelve ships under his command. They images of the ships were changing from yellow to red in different areas as hull stress pulled at them. The ship lurched to the side as another wave of hummingbirds were sent out. He brought the ship back in line, and glanced at the rest of his ships. It wasn't good. He could see the tell-tale light of missiles closing in on all of them, and the countermissile fire from the rest of his ships. One disappeared.

"Fuck."

He sent a communication to the other captains, advising them to take emergency evasive action. They already knew, they'd seen and felt the crew disappear from their neurite links as the grid contained inside their ship was released and consumed the ship. The annihilation was total, nothing of the ship survived. The 10 other ships swung randomly about in space, the enemy missiles following them. Then the particle beams made their appearance. Splashing and slicing into 4 more of the ships, the opaque gases attempting to protect them flashing to plasma, swirling around the impact. Another ship was destroyed, space around it bending and tearing as the secondary generator went down. A miniature black hole was formed for a picosecond before it sealed itself. A snap of light was apparent as it was allowed to pass, and the ship was gone. the rest of the ships just managed to pull out of the beams. The missiles closed further. As they clashed with the counter missiles, antimatter explosions flashed across the heavens, annihilating the darkness. A few managed to dodge the counter missiles, which then re-locked onto the enemy ships, released countermunitions, and flew on. More particle beams pierced the darkness, going nowhere near any of his ships.
"They must be confused by the EW. Good. At least something's going right. About time too, as well." he thought. A slight smile crossed his face, all the more eerie since his eyes were looking back into his skull.
They were closing in dramatically to the enemy fleet, and the spacedock itself, which was growing to fill up their frontal optical sensor bands. A third and a fourth ship disappeared from his mind. Emmet cursed, violently, and targetted the last remaining carrier. another 12 hummingbirds flew off, his ship being forced down by the missiles departure. The gaseous shield swirled again where the missiles screamed out, small tufts of the gas being dragged along with it. For a moment, the deep blue hull of the ship was visible through it, until it was clouded over again. The thrum of the gridsphere powering his ship increased in pitch as he activated all of the available engines. The shields thickness came down, and the ship accelerated further. A look of fear was appearing on the crews collective face as the dived for the broadside of the carrier, firing a second, then, after a 10 second interval, a third wave of hummingbirds (12 each wave.) The other surviving ships accelerated towards the battleship more cautiously, diving and weaving through the hail and fire. Each fired another salvo (also 12 each.) The other ships needed to turn up soon. The mercenaries were running out of ammo, luck, and time, and the fighters would eliminate their one advantage if they didn't have some more ships to shoot them.


(OOC: Ships remaining:
7 mercenary ships, and Emmets ship. 8 total.
Missiles remaining: 672 for the standard mercs, 96 for Emmet.
The only reason I mention that is, by the time they run out, they leave. And they just launched 36 per ship during that post. Obviously, ICly, you don't know how long they'll be dangerous for.)

OOC: Sskiss fleet composition

1 "Devouring of Enemies" Class Battleship
2 "Devouring of Flesh" Class Battlecruisers
2 "Protector of the Death Brood" Class Carriers
4 "Keeper of the Killer Creche" Class Light Carriers
8 "Crushing Bite" Class Medium Cruisers
24 "Lurking Death" Class Destroyers
72 "Slasher of Flesh" Class "Prowlers" (frigate equivallent)
144 "Marauding Hunter" Class Heavy Gunships

Total fighter compliment includes; 2376 "Slaughterer of Prey" medium fighters and 474 "Far Killing Claw" heavy torpedo fighters. Drones (all types) will typically number at least 5 times, to as much as 8 times the number of fighters in a Sskiss fleet.

Khorr' Sskraa watched and waited...A good hunter was always patient, always watchful...

Khorr' Sskraa watched the battle on the visual projector from within the chamber "where orders/commands/dictates are given" [bridge]. The Sskiss fleet was about to emerge from the "swift path" [hyperspace]. She and her creche had met previously with the "dwellers of the lifeless frozen spheres" [Jordaxians] and it was decided that a double attack was in order. The Sskiss had called it the "Slash and Bite" - The Jordaxians were the "slash" and the Sskiss would be the "bite".

Her crew drooled toxic bacteria laden saliva, not because they were hungry (at least not physically) but it was a clear sign of "anticipation of hunting/killing" Khorr' Sskraa sensed this, and saw it...She watched and waited...but knew she had to act soon...

When their fleet finally dropped out of hyperspace, she immediatly roared her orders and added modifers of "Complete Dominace" for added effect.

"Dispatch the "Confuser of Senses" drones!! [ECM/ECCM drones]" She boomed, signaling "Menacing Intent" A particularly heavy set "bladehead" Sskiss clawed who commanded all drones within the fleet, grunted his reply "Orders/dictate given/obeyed, protector/ruler of our creche" and then added modifiers of "pleasure of obeying dictates/orders".

The small drones poured out in legion numbers, they were the first wave of the Sskiss attack, meant to confuse incomming missiles and torpedoes and to help Sskiss ordinace find their targets.

"Also, dispatch "Relentless Scavanger" drones [Defensive drones] and "Death Leap" [offensive] drones!!! Now Khorr' Sskraa screached, as she drooled her own toxic saliva in "Anticipation of Hunting/Killing"...

"Kraaa' Shisss!!, Attack/Kill!!" Command the "Broods of Death!! [fighter squadrons]". Kraaa' Shisss was a particularly vicious looking male who possessed oversized teeth and a silvery coat of quill-like feathers around his chest, in a "V" shaped pattern around the base of his neck. "Orders/dictates given obeyed/followed!!" he squawked. He then rubbed his snout against hers in a brief bonding ritual and hurried off.

Hoards of "Slaughterer of Prey" class medium fighters and lesser numbers of "Far Killing Claw" heavy torpedo fighters serged out of their carriers, along a vast numbers of defensive and offensive drones. The heavier gunships were launched from either magnetic clamps mounted on large capital ships or they were already deployed within the fleet.

The heavier capital ships held back and made the "gullet" of the attack. They fired huge spinal mounted phased disrupers, crystalline shard cannons and focused stream plasma cannons. The larger ships had all these weapons available.

While this was occuring smaller capital ships composed of "Slasher of Flesh" class heavy "prowlers" and "Lurking Death" Class destoyers formed the "jaws" of the attack. "Marauding Hunter" class gunships acompanied them as escorts and attack craft as needed.

All ships launched a massive volley of missiles and torpedoes at their chosen targets, the defensive drones hung back to intercept incomming enemy ordinace while the offensive drones harrassed enemy fighters and other craft.

The Sskiss medium fighters engaged enemy fighters at closer range while the torpedo fighters launched anti-capital ship torpedoes and then enganged other craft with thier smaller micro-missiles and heavy fixed nose weapons mounts.

When the prowlers, destoyers and gunships come into range attacking from the flanks they too fired missiles and torpedoes as well as their fixed forward weapons mounts.

The Blademasterian fleet was caught in the "Jaws of Death" Sskiss battle formation - a three pronged attack. Kkorr'Sskraa hoped it was an ambush as well...

Battle was joined, now Khorr' Sskraa watched for the results...

OOC: Sorry for late the reply, been extremely busy and long posts are difficult at such times. Hope you both understand. I have not forgotten this thread. Thanks in advance.

OOC: been rather busy with school and all lately
IC:
As the Skiss battlefleet emerged from hyperspace, more alarms added to the caucophany (sp?) already ringing throughout the entire defensive squadron's halls.

Several corvettes took hits from the attacking forces, twenty fighters were destroyed, and the Terawind's aft section lost atmospheric pressure. The Blademasterians were fighting a losing battle, and they knew it. Their only chance was to hold out until forces could be diverted to assist them.

"Comamnder, we have lost atmosphere in engineering and aft weapons!"

"Damnit, Lieutenant I want those fighters to cover us, make it happen!"

"Sir!"

The remainign fighter squadrons retreated into a defensive formation as the Battleship continued to fire salvoes into the enemy fleets.

"Commander Jameson... did you call for backup?" A voice resounded throughout the Bridge of the terawind. It continued: "Well, ready or not, here we come!"

An Armstrong class Supercarrier, flanked by two more terawind class battleships dropped out of jumpspace, maneuvering to strike up a defensive formation. The Armstron disgorged its 2500 fighters in rapid sucession, and the battleships began firing full broadsides into the enemy fleets.

The countermeasures that had been protecting the enemy fleet from a precision assault were now rather irrelevant with the ammount of firepower being pounded into them. The enemy's return fire continued to pick off Blademasterian ships, with several cruisers and corvettes falling to the enemy fire. The Tsunami shipyards reported severe damage to their docking ports, and reactor assemblies, and the defending fleet slowly closed around the station.

(ooc: remaining forces: 3 battleships, 1 supercarrier, 3 cruisers, 12 corvettes, 2532 fighters)

OOC: I think this is where I was told to post this link. If not, SCREW YOU!

http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=354446

Oh, yeah. Buy from Klonor Ship Stores

http://www2.freepichosting.com/Images/134012/0.jpg (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=346008)
http://www.bateshome.com/jordan/kwsig.jpg (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=288603)
http://www.bateshome.com/jordan/ksig8.jpg (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=292319)
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The opposing Blademasterian forces had assumed a tight defensive formation with their remainding vessels and more importantly - the shipyards that were the main target of the attack. Taking advantage of this development, Khorr' Sskraa of the "Tyrant" caste decided to preform an ordered retreat. The reasons for this decision was one, their sudden shock attack had succeded, and two they were not in a xenocidal war or waging war for conquest with the Blademasterians at any rate. Also, as a clandestine "hired" mercenary force, the Sskiss wanted cut their losses and regroup (possible with the aid of the Jordaxians) and attack at another point, and again, hopefully by suprise.

"The hunt has been successful!" rasped Khorr' Sskaa and signaled "elation" and "ending of preceedings". Khorr' Sskraa's next words were an ancient Sskiss metaphor. "The prey has encircled its venerable young - the horns are sharp" [rough tanslation: The remainding blademasterian ships have formed a strong defensive formation around the vulnerable shipyards. Continued fighting would mean heavier losses even if victorious].

Thus the Sskiss fleet made good their escape and fled the system.

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Sskiss losses: 1256 drones of various sorts (considered expendable) 234 medium fighters, 38 heavy torpedo fighters, 13 gunships, 4 "prowlers" (frigate equivellent), 1 light carrier and 3 destroyers.

1 heavy carrier (moderate damage)
2 medium cruisers (moderate to heavy damage)
1 heavy cruiser (moderate damage)
27 destroyers (light to heavy damage)