NationStates Jolt Archive

SSWV Sightseer
Gargoyle Nebula
Norwich Province
The Southern Territories

The Split Space way’s Vessel sightseer was your typical passenger liner that traveled to and fro the system Split and its territories in the Norwich Province. On the return leg of the voyage the liner would pass through the Gargoyle Nebula allowing its three thousand passengers to view the one in a lifetime sight of the brilliant hues of the gas formations of the nebula. A lance of four SSW’s Star Furies fighters provided an escort for the liner, and a pair of militia Corvettes patrol roughly fifteen minutes outside the Nebula, trouble was not expect but it was a lesson learned in blood for the Federation, when in the territories every ship must transit with an escort.

A dozen or so people were gathered at one of the vessels portholes view the gas formations, some were taking pictures. One man was sitting along on a bench, he discreetly placed a device underneath the bench and activated it. Unknown to those around him, the liner would not be leaving the nebula.

The tracking device came on, directing the small raider group straight to its target. The ships consisted of a pair of ramshackle cruisers, a large prison hulk, and a few squads of fighters. They easily slipped into the Nebula, timing their entrance to avoid the patrols.


Onboard the hulk, the crewman watching the sensors turned to the commander. "Sir, sensors down to minimal. We are in a thick part of the nebula, they can't see us."
"Good. We will stay here. Send the cruisers in on a pincer, stop them from the front and rear. Fighters are to go straight at them and eliminate any bogies immediatly. Once they are defenseless, we'll grapple and board them. We will not reveal ourselves until then. Understood?"
"Aye sir. Your orders have been relayed."

The ships vanished off into the swirling clouds as the fighters dropped out of the hulk's hangars and disappeared en masse. Soon, Nephtali would have a large haul to trade to the Mesans.

"God these patrols are so uneventful, same old thing." a males voice stated over the comms "Just once I wish something would happen I need more excitement in my life ya know man?"

"I hear you Bob..." The pilot of another fighter replied, "Hell half the fleet could be a kilometer from here and we wouldn't see them in this junk."

Little did bob know he would soon get his wish.

The liner slid slowly through the nebula, allowing its passengers a grand view of the swirling colors. A young boy stood at a window.
"Papa, look!"
"Yes son, its beautiful isn't it?"
"No Papa, ships!"

A squadron of fighters shot out of the colors, breaking formation and chasing down the escorts in a frenzied ambush. The passengers on the ship scrambled away to the interior, but the liner was not the target, not yet. The officers on the bridge went frantic, sending out distress signals in all directions. But they did not get far. A jamming signal was overpowering the distress calls. Ships on the outside would only get a strange static.
At the bow of the liner a ramshackle, brown cruiser laid menacingly, aiming its guns at the Liner's engine systems. Another ship came to a halt behind the liner, aiming emplacements as well.

A hail came in...
"Do not resist or run, and you will not be harmed. If any resistance is met, violence will answer it."
the transmission cut off just as the huge shape of the hulk came from amidst the swirling colors. It's grapples aimed, ready to capture its prey and the precious cargo onboard.

"Ma'am what do we do they are upon us!" shouted a scared bridge officer.

"How many of the passengers are two the escape pods?" Anna Xerz a tall raven haired woman with sharp features asked.

"Just under half ma'am, we need to launch them now." The ship shook violently. "Engines are down!" he told the skipper of the liner.

"Active the defense grid and launch all the escape pods even the empty ones." The officers around her confirm her orders and set about their tasks. Along the hull a dozen interceptor turrets rotated out from their hidden positions from inside the liners hull. Within a second they tracked the nearest fighters and began to fire upon them, spitting their stilettos at them.

While this happened three hundred escape pods launched from the ship heading off in every direction. Among the pods were a dozen omega drones, essentially an engine with a small computer that would tell any who intercepted it of the ship's doomed fate.

As soon as the turrents opened on them, the fighters broke away. A few were turned into molten hunks that dissappeared into the colors of the nebula. The rest took off after the escape pods with life-signs. The cruisers began to systematically take out the turrents on the Liner, making sure not to damage the ship critically.
As the Liner's weapons were destroyed the Hulk closed on its prey. It hovered over the now helpless Liner. It's grapples shot down into the hull like a giant whaler harpooning its catch and slowly reeling it in. As the two ships grew closer and closer, a segment of the hulk dropped down, beginning to cut through the Liner to the inside. Another tube dropped around it, sealing the breach that would be made and allowing access for the un-uniformed soldiers standing at the ready inside the hulk.

"They are breaking through the hull Ma'am, they will be through soon."

"We have done all we could, if we resist much more they will simply kill us all, let them come, no more fighting. We can only hope that the navy receives one of the omega code drones." She said as she slouched into her seat awaiting the pirates to enter the bridge.

The Liner's hull was soon shredded into nothing and the boarding tube extended itself inside the ship. What can best be described as pirates stormed out guns raised. They encountered no resistance which was unexpected. The Commander of the Raiders stepped off into the now secured zone.

"Begin rounding up the captives and storing them on our ship. You, take me to the bridge. I believe there will be some officers to take care of."

They quickly walked off towards the bridge...

[A few minutes pass]

The large door slid open and the raiders stormed in. They were trained to not fire unless they were shot at. Hopefully the officers would surrender. They were worth a lot more than the common tourist...

Anna Xerz rose as the raiders entered through the bridge door, she heard one of her bridge officers gasp at the raiders. The officers on the bridge were not soldiers or military men they were civilian officers onboard a tourist ship and were not trained for this kind of thing.

She looked at the raiders and placed her hands on the top of her head.

"I am the captain of this vessel, we surrender to you." She said hurriedly as she found herself short of breath, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath, cold sweat began to form along her spine as she felt a terrific fear and terror toward her captors.

The raiders quickly took the officers off the bridge, leaving their commander and Xerz alone.

He was a handsome man. He was young, at least in appearance, with short brown hair. He wore a black leather coat that went down to his ankles.

"I do apologize for this incident miss. If I had known a thing of such beauty was here I might have found a more subtle way to capture this ship. Please, come with me."

He forcibly but gently directed her out of the bridge which was soon filled with raiders who began to slave the computer to the hulk ship holding it. The two walked back to the boarding tube.

"Take her to my quarters." he said. Another man cuffed her and led her up the tube and into the ship.

It was dark and the floors creaked and echoed with every step. All around them her former passengers were being shuffled like animals down hallways labled "Cell Block A", "Cell Block B" and so forth. She saw a man, one of the passengers she thought. He looked to be counting out a bag of credits with one of the raiders, but she couldn't tell in the dim light. She was taken up to a much cleaner level. Obviously this was where the officers lived. The man took her into a room. There was a bed on one side, and against another wall were luxurious cushions and pillows. Another young woman sat on one end, chained to the wall. She had a blank look on her face and only turned her eyes to look at the figures entering. The raider took Anna's hands and replaced the cuffs with the chains on the wall.
"Make yerself comfortable miss. The Cap'm will be up shortly to check on yeh." he said with a smirk. As he exited, she looked out the window, seeing the enemy fighters towing back several escape pods.

As the minutes... hours... (she didn't know) ticked away, the activity outside the window stopped. And soon she could tell the ship was moving.

The hulk began to escape the nebula. They still had to avoid the enemy patrols in the area. The cruisers went ahead of it. Their timing showed they should miss the patrols as they slipped out and began thier run back to safe space. However, they were going to be slowed a little. The Captain had left the Liner hooked to the hulk, restoring its engines enough not to tear the ships apart. He wanted a bigger prize than just the slaves. Besides, if enemy ships found them, they could always dump the liner and make a run for it...

Xerz pulled at her bonds with all her might grunting and straining to try to free herself.

Of course she did not and when she was done all she did was tire herself, out of breath and sweating from her exertions. One look at the woman chained across the room told her of her fate. She would be a pleasure slave to the sick man that captured her, like hell she would resign herself to that fate willingly!

She took that thought into her dreams as her exhausted body finally fell into sleep, her body going limp hanging from her bonds.

Xerz (We'll call her Anna from now on) opened her eyes and saw the captain sitting there watching her. Before she could speak he began.
"I apologize for the chains, but they are necessary." he said softly. "Now, for introductions. I am Trenton Hawk. I would appreciate it if you called me captain for now. I believe your name was Anna? A lovely name. I think I'll let you keep it. But of course, I've forgotten, welcome onboard the Kraken..." he got up and paced the room a few times.
"I'm sure you are wondering about your bonds there. Do not think I am keeping you merely as a... slave. If you cooperate, I will have you as more of a companion. Now, I would like to know the ID Signatures of the vessels patrolling the nebula. Once that's done, I'll find you a nice change of clothes instead of that dirty uniform."

The 4 ships emerged from the Nebula at a quick pace. The Liner would slow them down a bit, but they would be able to outrun any patrols provided they weren't spotted until they had some distance between the Nebula and themselves.

Anna felt herself blush as she felt him watch her, she then heard his words and they seemed to have an "everything will be ok" tone to them. She could use new cloths and a hot meal, and she couldn’t escape so why not give him what he wants, as he said he would make things easier on her...

She sighed before she spoke slowly,

"I’ll tell you what you want to know," she whispered, the Captain approaching her to hear her words. Then with sudden intensity she kicked at him and spat at his face screaming. "I will never tell you anything you monster!"

He recoiled from the blow but not a whimper or sound escaped his lips but a quiet laughter. He looked up at her with almost a sadistic grin as he whiped the spit away.
"I didn't expect you would give me anything. Breaking you will be very rewarding. In fact, I will keep you as you are. Mesa's slaves are good" he said motioning to the other woman, "but I think you will be much more fun.
Now, here is a change of clothes for you." he said as he tossed a silk dress to her. It was sleeveless and short, only barely covering her. He touched a button, and a force feild shimmered around the cushions, and her chains fell away from her wrists.
"Now, put that on and I will get you some food." he said as he took a seat in the chair facing her.

Her eyes stared like daggers at her tormentor. He intended to break her did he? He undoubtedly planed that have her strip in front of him would be the first step in that process. By her own hand she would remove from her body what ever connection she had to her life as a free woman and replace it with the inadequate coverage of a slave's dress.

She contemplated resisting that degradation a she held the skimpy garment in front of her. She considered resisting it at that moment, not to do as he said. She would most likely be beaten as a result. What would that gain her he could beat her and complete the process himself or worst simply leave her naked.

No, she would do as he said...she stared bravely at him as she began to unbutton her tunic as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She took a few minutes to complete the deed, all before his eyes, and when she was done she was only covered by the too small dress.

He was pleased. The forcefield dropped away, and he took her wrists with a sturdy grip, rechaining them. He walked out the door and shortly after re-entered with a plate of warm finger food. He set it down and turned to leave again.

"I must check on our progress. I'll return shortly. I suggest you enjoy that meal my pet."

Anna quickly ate the food that was brought as she was famished in her binge it did not occur until after she consumed the food that it could be drugged. She stared at her counter part with something akin to disgust but even so she slid the plate and the couple piece of food towards her. All she did now was to wait for her captain to return, so she sunk down to her knees and curled up on the cold floor and attempted to sleep.

Trenton walked back into the room. Anna was sleeping on the floor. He walked to her and placed one of the soft pillows gently under her head.He stroked her hair and took a seat at his desk to do some paperwork on the expected profits from the raid.

Anna awoke quietly and watched the captian work,

"So tell me how much money you will reap off the sales of your latest capture, what is the price tag for human liberty to monsters such as yourself?" She asked of him sharply.


OOC: A pic of anna
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v503/thewick/annaxerz.jpg

"I am not the monster you think I am." he said looking up from the datapads. "What have I done thats so completely and utterly evil? This is my job. I am as gracious as I can afford to be. I did not have anyone onboard your ship killed. I don't believe in killing the innocent. I have let you live with me because I see something in you. Do you think I enjoy spending my life on this ship, stalking luxury ships through these backwater spacelanes?"
He was blatantly lying to her, but he was keeping that fact hidden.

Perhaps he was right, maybe he was just doing a job that let him raise enough money to provide for his family back wherever home was. Who was she to judge him?

"Perhaps you don’t like your profession, but that doesn't justify you selling innocent people into slavery! Or holding myself here against my will, or you keeping me here chained up like some dog or beast with you as my master!" she screamed at him.

He sighed. "Would you rather be handed over to the Mesans? I save those I can." he hung his head and rubbed his hand back through his short hair. "Now Anna, what do you think the Federation ships will do if they catch us?" he didn't wait for an answer. "They will fire on us. And I can't stop the cruisers from firing back. I might be the commander here, but they will mutiny if I go against orders. I need the ID signatures of the patrols, or everyone on this ship will die if we are caught." He was telling her half-truths now. His ships could easily beat any patrols, but they would undoubtably call for reinforcements.

"The Mesians?" Anna gasped out of fear, the horrors they inflicted on their slaves went beyond belief.

It was worse for the ones they bread from birth perhaps some of the most beautiful girls around, pleasure slave of course taught their trade from age seven on, raped by their male counterparts, she heard in many ways it was worse for them. "I'd do anything not to be turned over to them! But I can’t give you that information I would be betraying everyone if I did"

She began to sob a bit,

"I can't please don’t make me!" she begged of him.

He got up from his seat and knelt down to her. His hand went out, gently lifting her chin and whiping away the tears.
"I don't intend to hand anyone here over to the Mesians if I can help it. We are en route to Nephtali space." he knew good and well the prisoners would be transferred to the Mesians after reaching safe space. "I need those ID's. I don't want anyone here to die."

Her face was now slick with her tears,

"Alright I will tell what you want to know." She couldn't believe she was doing this betray everyone she was responsible for. "There are two ships you need worry about, the Exira and the Caller both are Grayson corvettes, also the Somerset Militia cruiser Defiant is due to arrive in system any time know, captain." She told her master resting her head upon his shoulder. "Please don’t like the Mesians get possess of my people, ill do anything for you, please."

"Just rest." he said, giving her a warm hug and rubbing her back in a comforting way. He laid her down on the pillows and cushions, bringing her a blanket from the closet. "Sleep now. I must attend the bridge. Here is the intercom" he pointed to the simple panel on the wall. "Call me when you are rested." He rubbed her arm gently before leaving the room.

He stepped out onto the bridge. "Input these ship ID's into the Sightseer's database and copy their ID Signatures to our main computer. We need to track them until we get to safe space."

<Kraken Commander: Personal Log>
" She gave me the correct ID's. Those patrols aren't anywhere near us. It should be a safe run back to Citadel. The techs say we should be able to make a jump with the Sightseer attached. If so, we are home free."
<End Log>

SMNV Evanescence
Yorktown-Class Battle Carrier
Patrolling the Shift system
Approx. 60 LY from Norwich

“Shuttle Roanoke welcome back, you are cleared to land in bay one, call the ball.” The soft feminine voice of the air traffic controller stated to the approaching shuttle arriving out of Split. It carried on board several crates of spare parts, mail, naval dispatches, food supplies, and two replacement pilots fresh from the New Pensacola flight academy on the third moon orbiting Rembrandt. The two young male officers all but strutted down the ramp of the shuttle dressed in the baggy orange flight suit of naval pilots. One was tall and wore closely cropped blond hair with striking blue eyes and was quite muscular, what one imagined when one thought of a young fighter pilot. His name was Banshee and he was second out of his class of over a hundred. He was looking forward to this deployment it would give him the chance to attain glory and honor, and woe many an attractive lady with that!

The other pilot was quite different he was a good head shorter and was quite lanky, lacking the mass of his counterpart. That was not the only difference nor was it the most striking one. His hair was brown and long reaching down to his lower back and was tightly braided as was demanded by naval regulations. Along the sides of his skull from his forehead to the base of his neck he bore perhaps the most striking genetical trait in the Raumreich, the head stripes of a WIckian, though his lack of muscle, short height and well abundance of hair, made him a product of a mixed birth the product of the intermarriage of the thirty thousand WIckian immigrants to Rembrandt after the Great War. He was the best pilot candidate of his class, his call sign was Revenant, and the name fitted his style.

Like any new pilots the first thing they went to see was the ships hangers and their birds. The Hanger of the Evanescence lay in the forward half of the vessel between the two armored pylons on either side of the ship, well protected from enemy fire. It was a sprawling affair, the thirty-six fighters scattered about its floor with pilots and ground crews working to keep them combat effective which was quite a choir for the fighters were Raptor-class, almost as old as the ship that carried them.

“What the frack is this Reve look at these birds they're Raptors and they been around the block, must be fifty years old!” Banshee said with some exasperation.

“One of the Razorbacks at the academy could take out six of these antiques alone!” Revenant replied confirming the worries of his wing mate.

“Look at this one it still has battle damage, those are blast marks from PD lasers I’d say” Banshee said pointing to the black scorch marked along the fuselage of one fighter. Both their eyes stopped when they say the dried blood still staining the battle glass of its cockpit.

“The name on it says MAJ RILLY I wonder if he survived.” Reve stated gloomily.

“I don’t think he did man, lets go find the squadron commander and report in” Banshee said his former cheer now dimmed. He had a feeling life in the Southern Territories wouldn’t be quite what he expected.

Identity. Stability. Prosperity.

That was the motto of the Mesan Conglomerate, and while it tried to enforce that within it's own borders, that same treatment didn't apply to it's neighbors.

At present, the battlecruiser Taurus, cruised silently through space on the outskirts of Shift, looking for prey. It was what a battlecruiser was designed for after all, to hunt and stalk and finally kill it's victims amongst the darkness.

Captain DuPont had always felt deep inside that the Social Predestinators had screwed up, that he should be in a nice cushy job somewhere planetside, not out here amongst the stars killing other ships. But while he might not enjoy his tasks, he was certainly capable of fulfilling them. Besides, prize money was prize money.

The intercom in his cabin crackled to life. "Captain to the bridge! Enemy contact sighted."

DuPont sighed and buttoned up his uniform, then exited his cabin into the cramped passageway that ran the length of the ship. A young Beta Plus lieutenant walked past, pausing to give him a respectful salute. Ah, the benefits of being an Alpha.

He walked down the passageway, thankfully it was only a short trip, since his cabin was relatively close to the bridge. His executive officer, another Alpha, rose from the Captain's chair as he entered. "What do we have Mark?"

"Well Sir, no confirmations yet, but CIC thinks we might have just picked up a large warship on the fringe of our sensors, probably from the local system forces."

"Hm. Take all unnecessary systems offline, and shut down the gravitics. I don't want them to know we're here."

SMNV Evanescence
Yorktown-Class Battle Carrier
Patrolling the Shift system
Approx. 60 LY from Norwich
0230 Zulu

Michael Hazen call sign Revenant laid in his unforgiving rack un able to sleep. It was not because the rack was uncomfortable, he learned long ago how to sleep anywhere, it was because he was excited. His first patrol was scheduled for 0330, how could anyone sleep at such a time.

Soon Banshee and he were dressed in their flight suits and seated in the briefing room along with their flight leader who was a striking female who's been on the 'escence for two patrols now. The CAG stood in front of them beside a glass display of the system they were in with various positions marked on it with grease pencil.

"Flt. Officer Fallon you are to take your flight out and act as a vanguard for the ship. We don’t expect any trouble but keep in mind we are close to Mesan territory and we have confronted their patrols in this system in the past. We are getting reports of increased activity on their part, so be alert and trust your sensors. You new pilots follow Fallon's lead she knows her stuff, but also use your own brains and initiative and remember your training it will save you if it hits the fan out their. You all know your jobs, you are the eyes of this ship, and we are the eyes for the fleet report anything suspicious out there. Your call sign is Vermillion. That is all, Happy Hunting...Dismissed." With that order the three stood to attention about faced and left the room.

Fifteen minutes later three Raptor-class Interceptors were speeding away from their carrier to scout ahead of their mother ship. The Evanescence continues on her course unaware that a predator stalked her.

OOC: Raptor class interceptors http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v503/thewick/proto9.jpg

"So...we have another large starship sharing this system with us. It's either going to be a warship, or a large freighter. I think we should check it out."

DuPont smiled at his exec, then turned to the helm officer, a Beta. "Take us up to 200 Gs accel, bring us onto an intercept course."

He looked back at his exec, "We won't bother going to battle stations yet, they're still far out of range. I'm surprised our sensors even noticed them that far out."

The sound of an impact printer in operation was heard on the bridge of the Evanescence, as the communications officer received a message pulse from Shift Naval Station. The Naval Station it self was a rather Spartan affair in orbit of the second of the two inhabitable planets of the system, only four hyper capable ships were stationed there all Somerset Militia, a couple dozen Shiftian Militia gunboats also were berthed on that station, along with a few larger ships in orbit of the inner planet. The system suffered from what every territory suffered from a lack of defense ships, beside the Evanescence only three GSN ships a Cruiser and a pair of escorts patrolled the outer system, it was all the Federal Navy could afford to deploy, and was only enough to deter raiding parties, in the event of a full scale invasion the system would have to be abandoned.

These were the thoughts that flowed through Captain(SG) Berry Iverson head as he heard the printer clatter...then heard the charming voice of his communications officer.

"Sir message from Commodore McMillan, were are to rendezvous with the Freighter Maru Arjuna at the hyper gate and take provide here a fighter escort to the inner system." Margaret Cutesier told him, he often fond himself admiring her shapely body discreetly, she was young enough to be his daughter but something a man could not help, nor would age ever prevent, he laughed quietly to himself before he answered her.

"Launch Crucible flight and have them proceed to the gate for escort duty, and inform Vermillion flight of the situation see if they can alter their course to play watch dog for us both. Thirty degrees to port navigation, bring the ship within two million klicks of the gate." He ordered as the navigations officer repeated his commands and the ship swung in the direction of the gate that lied about a light minute away.

---

"Confirmed Evanescence, we will provide CAP for both vessels." Fallon’s voice sang over the comms distorted by static and the mechanical tones of the communications systems. "Revenant kick it out another 5 k-klicks that should give your sensors enough range to look ahead for the Maru when she arrives." Fallon ordered.

"Copy that Ma'am" he replied as his lateral thrusters pushed him away from his cohorts. None of the pilots were aware of the approaching Battle Cruiser yet, was it aware of them?

DuPont grimaced. "So, there's another ship now. I'm betting it's a pair of cruisers, or one of those is a warship and the other a freighter. Either way, we're committedto action. Range to target?"

"Four million klicks Sir."

"Secure to battle stations."

Klaxons rang throughout the passageways and compartments of the Taurus, and crewmen swiftly changed into their protective spacesuits. They were a bit cumbersome, with nothing like the dexterity a uniform provided, but they protected against depressurization, something no uniform could do. Crewmen slammed compartment hatches shut, then secured them. The outer weapons compartments were depressurized to limit concussion from explosions. Hatches opened in the sides of the ship, and the barrels of laser emitters emerged. Missile tube outer doors also swung open as their crews loaded the first nuclear missiles into the tubes.

DuPont calmly watched the tactical screen, waiting for the two red blips to cross the green circle marking two million klicks, the point at which he could begin the killing.

"Bring our accel up to 350 Gs."

"Vermillion lead, two, I’m picking up something strange of the scope. Lidar is picking up a silhouette but is fuzzy appears to be jamming." Revenant reported to Fallon.

"Send me that data now Two!" Fallon's voice filled with sudden concern. She glanced at the data that soon entered her scope, there shouldn’t be anything corrupting lidar returns unless someone was pumping out ECM, but the only person wanting to do that would be someone setting up an ambush!

"Condition Red! Repeat Red! Red!" Fallon shouted into her voice pickup, "Unidentified ship bearing 232 degrees 2.5 million klicks assumed hostile!"

---

Fallon's message had just reached the carrier when the Mesan BC light off its drives. The crew scrambled to get into their skin-suits, which were as bulky as the Mesans’. The heavy plasma cannons were charged and the missile tubes loaded. The interceptor grids revealed themselves from the interior of the ship. Most importantly the three fighter squadrons were scrambled from the hanger within fifteen minutes of the alert.

"What do we have out there tactical?" Captain Iverson asked.

"Sir, judging from its silhouette and lidar returns I'd call it a battle cruiser, Range to target is 2.5 million klicks and they have a considerable accel advantage. They are almost in firing range of the Maru, and will be within range of us in ten mikes."

What the tactical officer stated was not good at all, essentially the Mesan captain caught him with his pants down, he was pissed to say the least.

"Vector the bombers onto the target have the fighter squadrons take the lead forming a vanguard, I doubt that ship has fighters so our own are free to engage it. Helm go to maximum military acceleration, set a course to intercept that BC. Flood and open all torpedo tubes. Clear all broadside tubes prepare for rapid fire upon the target!" The captain ordered

"Tell Vermillion flight to do what they can to save the Maru." He ordered hoping he did not just order the three exposed fighters to their deaths.

---
Fallon had predicted her captain orders this was not her first patrol with him.
"Two, three form up on lead, follow me in we are going in hot weapons free, target their fire control systems." As the two rookie pilots confirmed her orders she hit the after burner which thrust her small fighter ahead at an acceleration that has been known to break ribs or cause blackouts, it was used on in dire straights. Her reticule glowed red at a million kilometers.

"Vermillion lead fox two." she stated as the two small nuclear missiles leapt from her ships wings, soon four more were fired by the men in her flight. They continued in closer to the target for strafing runs. At a half million kilometers the fighters began to take evasive maneuvers spinning on there z axis, jukeing and jiving hoping to make themselves as hard as possible to hit.

The Kraken emerged facing a system that looked more like a junkyard. It passed several dead planetoids, covered in ore mines and recovered in docking rings. Warships and salvagers floated side by side. Onwards towards the red sun and the metal began to thin out. Soon, a blue and grey world could be seen ahead.

Anna watched this all from her window in nervous anxiety. The world grew closer and she could see ancient oceans now bordered by the metallic confines of great industrial cities.

The door slid open and Trenton walked back in the room. "Welcome to Citadel" he said, gathering some of his things.
"Is this your planet?" she asked him quietly.
"No, I'm from Troy. This is Raven territory. We're only here for supplies and to drop off your people to my friend Seamus. He'll take care of them."
He sensed her anxiety. "Relax, we are far from Mesan space, and you will find none of them here. While I am planetside, I'll pick you up some things."
"I'd rather remain with them." she said.
"And I would rather have you here." he said as he walked out the door. "Be good..."

"Incoming missiles and fighters. Engaging targets."

"Point defense online and tracking, engaging."

Counter missiles leapt from the battlecruisers armored sides, their crude flight systems being guided by fire control links from the ship. They used high powered but short lived gravitic thrusters for propulsion, and each carried a low yield nuclear charge. Their only purpose was to get in range of the incoming missiles and to detonate, hopefully taking their targets out with them.

The first four enemy missiles vanished in flashes of nuclear light, the other two evaded their seekers and continued. Low power point defense lasers and autocannons engaged those, smacking both from space before they could detonate.

The laser emitters were too clumsy for tracking a smart and evading target like a fighter with any appreciable accuracy, but the autocannons could turn and track fast enough. Their barrels whirred in silence as they put out thousands of rounds into the space around their intended victims.

"Firing solution for freighter confirmed, uploaded to targetting computers."

DuPont grinned. "Set missiles for ten second delay activation, then fire."

Four missiles shot from the battlecruiser's bow tubes, coasting for the first ten seconds of their flight using only the momentum that the ship's mass drivers imparted to them. Their gravitic thrusters engaged, and they shot straight for the freighter, each carrying a five kiloton warhead. They would run out of energy in the last few seconds of their flight, but if successful, it would let him give his undivided focuse onto the enemy warship.

" Maru, Crucible lead here we are going to attempt to intercept the missiles hang on" Flt Lieutenant Jordan distorted voice stated over the comms on the bridge of the carrier. It was a long shot but that small flight of fighters were the freighters only hope to escape the oncoming missiles.

They failed.

Three of the missiles were torn to shreds by the auto cannons of the fighters, however a blinding light enveloped the freighter as the proximity sensors on the missile detonated its warhead. There was nothing left to theMaru.

"Frack..." Iverson swore as the Maru icon blinked then disappeared from his 2-d tactical display. "Range to enemy vessel?" He asked of his tactical officer.

"Just under two million km sir."

The captain wanted blood now,

"Bring us into energy range, go to rapid fire on all forward tubes." Four torpedoes made their way to the Mesan BC all about half the acceleration of a missile but contained much heavier warheads.

"Orders to the CAG his is free to engage the BC as soon as he deems fit."
---

"Frack!" Hazen swore as he noticed the death of the Maru, the space around his fighter became filled with tracers from the battlecruisers autocannons. He rolled his fighter over and depressed the trigger spraying at the large ship with his fighters rotary autocannon. His ship shook as the slugs left the fighter and made thier way to the Mesan ship. Fallon and the other fighters weapon systems soon joined in.

"Good work Tactical." DuPont clapped a hand down on the Beta Plus Lieutenant's shoulder. "One more to worry about."

"Enemy torpedo launch, four contacts." The information was shifted to the PD officer's station, a rather attractive Beta junior lieutenant. "Launching counter-missiles," she seemed to sing out in a contralto voice.

Three incoming missiles were taken down, the fourth by a PD laser.

We won't make any progress this way. DuPont thought. "Helm, bring us about, present our port broadside. Tactical, take care of them."

The nimble battlecruiser swung about, each of it's twenty broadside tubes firing as the carrier entered their field of fire.

"MISSILE SEPERATION!" Yelled the countermeasures officer unable to control his excitement. "Twenty birds incoming, pulling 20,000 kps impact one hundred seconds."

"Steady as she goes helm. Launch counter measures keep closing the gap, I want their full attention." The captain said voice hardened with determination.

"Shall I vector the fighters to engage the missiles sir?" his XO asked.

"No..." the captain stated simply.

"We will be exposing ourselves to their fire sir?"

"Understood XO, but the fighters and the bombers are our ace in the hole and judging from that brute's actions he hasn’t noticed them, and that is his first mistake of the day." The captain smiled thinly. His ship shook again as four more torpedoes left their launch tubes.

Mesa System, Mesan Conglomerate
1000, Solar Forces Time Standard

In the mid-system region of the Mesan Conglomerate's home system a series of distortions start to alter the existence of normal space. There is a sudden, intense blast of white light and an energy spike that is by no measure inconspicuous. The brilliance is almost as gone as soon as it can be noticed and in its place is a sight that many in the Raumreich would fear.

A squadron of Roum class battle frigates, escorted by two squadrons of Ansel class monitors and bearing the red cross of the Ortagan Hegemony drift at a course that curves along the eclipitic of the system. There is no communication, no direction, the Solar Navy warships simply appear to be drifting. Then a voice-only comm tears across every channel in the system

"This is Commodore Novato, commanding the HSS Star Hammer attached to Rear Admiral Ginias Saharin's Third Squadron. I am here to open dialogue with the Mesan Conglomerate on behalf of His Excellency the Hegemon Channing Ansel in order to secure labor contracts for the Hegemony's purposes. And also to establish a closer relation between the systems of Roum and Mesa."

Roum class battle frigate (http://www.wolfsshipyard.mystarship.com/Drawings/League/Stormfalcon.gif)

Ansel class monitor (http://www.wolfsshipyard.mystarship.com/Drawings/ISA/White_Star.gif)

"Engaging enemy missiles."

Counter-missiles snapped away two, the third lost lock from ECM, and the fourth almost made it due to a tracking error in Autocannon Three. Autocannon Four blew it away a mere thousand kilometers from the ship, an uncomfortably close call.

DuPont stared at the tactical screen, watching the blinking green incons of his missiles hurtle toward the enemy of the Society.

"Feed jam in tube eleven. Damage control crews working on it."

The deck vibrated as the battlecruiser expelled its second broadside sans one missile.

******

Mesa System

Confusion reigned in the Fleet as warships, defense stations, and their crews and officers began to slowly react to the sudden presence of the Ortagan warships. They came to battle stations, if not all at once, and then a transmission came from groundside.

To: Commodore Novato, Ortagan Solar Navy
From: System Controller Teodoro, Mesan Conglomerate

We welcome you to Mesa, and landing clearance will be granted to a personal shuttle for you and your retinue. A landing party will greet you. For security reasons, we request that your starships hold their present position.

A short transmission followed the message carrying flight path and landing instructions.

The three small fighters assaulting the Mesan battle cruiser were not designed for such close in attacks on such a formidable vessel. They were designed to intercept enemy fighters, bombers, and missiles not their capital ships. Only a combination of guts, skill, and luck allowed them to attack the ship unscathed so far. The DU-sabot darts of their auto-cannons tore deep into the thick skin of the BC, especially trying to damage the external sensors or fire control systems of the vessel.

Revanent's fighter spun wildly avoiding the latest burst from the BC’s point defense. However the luck of the other two pilots in the flight had run out. Only an aborted scream marked the death of Banshee as large caliber AC shells tore his cockpit to shreds along with his body. Flt. Ldr. Fallon’s fighter was like wise struck, a line of shells latterly tore the rear half of her fighter from the front. Revenant heard her grunt in pain as her ejection seat rocketed from her broken fighter.

That was the last thing he remembered before he noticed the flash of an auto-cannon that swung in the direction of his fighter, and the shrill of damage alarms before darkness claimed him.
---
The Somerset Militia had point-defenses comparable to the Mesans. It was a three part system, counter missiles at range, then fighters would attempt to intercept those that broke through, and finally the energy based defense grid and auto-cannons backed up by the electronic countermeasure systems as a last ditch effort. However as the first two broadsides of the Mesan BC bore down on the carrier it was missing a vital part of the system.

Of the first broadside 12 missiles made it past the first layer of defense they bore down angrily on the SM carrier, greeted by a veritable wall of lead and flak. Even the heavy pulse cannon launched their large bolts at the missiles hoping to intercept some. The interceptor grid accounted for 10 more missiles before they entered into danger close range.

A nuclear warhead only needed to get within a dozen kilometers or so to inflict harm upon their targets. In the inner marches that sort of proximately is considered to be "Contact" range, almost having to hit one's target to be effective. That is why the missiles of more modern navies are heinously large or contain laser warheads that would detonate their warheads at twenty thousand kilometers or more.

The two missiles that broke throw to danger close range were both intercepted outside of 10 kilometers. However even at that range their shockwave of the nuclear explosion shook the carrier and rolled her unto her side. Reaction thrusters quickly fired to resume the former course of the vessel.

Just as the second broadside sped down around the carrier its point defenses again worked frantically to intercept the enemy missiles.

---

The CAG flight wing approached the Mesan BC from “below” and at an oblique angle and had apparently not been detected. He had known Flt. Ldr. Fallon for two tours now, she was a good pilot and now they had killed her. He would have his revenge now.

“Hammer lead, CAG, you are free to engage the enemy CAPSHIP, target its engines and weapon systems.” The distorted voice of the CAG stated over the comms.

“Copy that CAG, we are weapons fire…Hammer units arm Long Lance torpedoes, fire on three….one, two three! Bombs away!” The bomber squadron’s commander reported, as two large missiles were launched from each of the 12 bombers. The twelve torpedoes were joined by 36 missiles launched by the escorting fighters.

However the MIRV torpedo differed from the torpedoes launched by the carrier, at 12k kilometers their MIRV system would active, a half dozen missiles similar but larger to those fired by the accompanying fighters would detach from the housing of the torpedo, with the goal of swamping an enemies point defense it was hoped that the majority of them would penetrate the overwhelm PD and do considerable damage.

---

Of the Mesan second broadside no less then six missiles broke through into the danger close range, four were destroyed before they could damage the carrier, however the shockwave shook and jarred the carrier considerably. Two of the missiles made it past the gunners best efforts…the collision alarm sounded though out the ship.

“Torpedoes inbound, Brace for contact!” Captain Iverson stated calmly over his comm., his voice resonating through the ship. His hand tightened around his coommand chair’s metal handle. The ship was rocked as if hit by a sledgehammer went the first missile impacted everything went black with the second strike. The Evanescence was enveloped in nuclear hellfire.

The Taurus swatted Evanescence's latest salvo from space with what seemed to be contempt.

"Multiple contacts spotted!"

DuPont's head whipped toward the tactical station in surprise.

"They're parasite fighters, reprioritizing defense fire...multiple launches. I repeat, multiple launches."

"Take them down!" He virtually shouted at his PD officer.

Autocannons swiveled around in their tracks, elevating their barrels to deal with the new threat. Twenty of the incoming fighter missiles died, followed by two of the bomber launched torpedoes. Then the bomber's MIRVs split apart, playing merry hell with the PD computer's gunnery predictions. Another three fighter missiles died, four MIRVs, and then the rest smashed into the battlecruiser.

Damage alarms wailed as ventral shields flashed and buckled under the strain of multiple impacts, armored hull ripped open to space, and six Betas and twelve Gammas died as Autocannon Five was smashed into wreckage, an environmental station was destroyed, and a ventral radar was put out.

"Helm, roll ship, now! Increase acceleration to 450 Gs."

Gravitic thrusters surged again as the ship moved to increase the distance between it and it's attackers, and rolled to snatch it's wounded ventral side from the enemy, and instead to present them with an undamaged broadside.

Shane Vencetti yelped with glee as he watched the explosions of the missiles upon the enemy vessel. There were many reasons why one joined the SMN, it was his experience that his was the most popular justification, he was paid to blow really expensive things up with really big explosions. And he had a tactic that should make some more really big explosions that would cause those slavers even more heartache.

He called it "Double Trouble", and was a little maneuver he thought up that would hit the enemy where it would hurt. He hoped it to be an unexpected maneuver as it pushed the inertial limits of the bomber craft to the maximum, but it worked in the simulators, and hey, that was good enough for him. Besides if it didn?t work well he probably wouldn?t be around anymore to care.

"Squadron orders, Double Trouble on my mark...3,2,1...mark!" In almost perfect unison the rear ventral thrusters of the bombers fired propelling the craft in an arc above and behind the Mesan BC, allowing them to tag its wounded flank once again. His eyes began to turn red and it all the actions seemed to be occurring in slow motion, just as he thought he was about to pass out the thrusters fired again his flight stabilized. He was now along with the balance of his squadron inverted and saw the BC moving a greater distance away, perfect firing distance. ?Fox two? his voice range out over the comms as his final two torpedoes were launched, along with twenty-two others. These missiles were not MIRVs but rather the Long-Lance torpedoes used by capital ships themselves, hopefully to the surprise of the enemy who may be expecting a second MIRV wave.

---

Smoke from burnt consoles and fried circuitry filled the bridge as well as a host of other smells which one can only shudder to imagine such as when flame meets flesh. Iverson had been involved in many skirmishes in his day, yet he never once had been wounded in combat, it was odd you would think that there would be more pain in it. He looked at his ruined arm a piece of shrapnel caught it almost in the middle of his bicep, small beads of blood floated up from the wound, the hit must have destroyed the gravity generator. A corpswoman was hurriedly applying a tourniquet to the wound, but he did not like her give him any painkillers.

Damage reports were hurriedly stated, the two missiles impacted the armor belt at roughly amidships on the starboard side as the ship was correcting its altered course. Half the weaponry on that side was slagged, and the radar and lidar fire control systems were not much better off. However, the armor held and the damage contained as fire were extinguished as compartments were vented of oxygen.

"T-Tactical," he managed to croak out in a hoarse voice, "come to port forty-five, let him have a full spread of torpedoes pour it on!" The ship shuddered again as twelve more torpedoes were launched from their tubes.

Counter-missiles raced away from the Taurus, striking down four torpedoes, and autocannons blazed away, killing another thirteen. Last ditch PD lasers claimed another four, and the final three raced in to detonate.

The blasts slagged the ship's ventral side, shields crumpled like tissue paper, and defense turrets, radar and lidar emplacements, gravitic sensors were wiped away like they had never existed.

DuPont stared in horror as compartment after compartment turned red or yellow on the damage control display. This was it, unless he salvaged what he could of his ship now, his career was effectively over. "Roll ship ninety." He ordered the helmsman. "Fire off the loaded salvo, then go to maximum acceleration immediately."

Twenty missiles raced away as the battle cruiser surged ahead, trying to put as much distance between it and the carrier and it's damnable fighters as possible.

The last Mesan salvo tore down upon the wounded carrier, all but one was managed to be shot down before it entered danger range however this one managed to strike the engines crippling any hope of pursuit of the Mesan BC.

Not that Iverson wanted to pursue that bastard any way, his ship was to far damage. They forced back a Mesan Incursion into Shift and for now that was enough. He feared that one day they would return with more then one ship, and there would be now stopping the onslaught until Split. Today though it was a only a raider and he was heading out system bloody, that was enough.

"R-Recall fighters and bombers, rotated squadrons keep at least one squadron on CAP until the Relief detachment arrives." His voice was tiered and weak as he continued, "Send out Pinnaces for SAR of the freighters crew and of Vermillion flight." With the battle over the adrenaline left his body he felt drained as he slumped in his chair as blackness claimed him.

If interrested in more of the storyline check out this synopsis of the Federation: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=8016131&postcount=153

Mesa System

Confusion reigned in the Fleet as warships, defense stations, and their crews and officers began to slowly react to the sudden presence of the Ortagan warships. They came to battle stations, if not all at once, and then a transmission came from groundside.



To: Commodore Novato, Ortagan Solar Navy
From: System Controller Teodoro, Mesan Conglomerate

We welcome you to Mesa, and landing clearance will be granted to a personal shuttle for you and your retinue. A landing party will greet you. For security reasons, we request that your starships hold their present position.



A short transmission followed the message carrying flight path and landing instructions.

HSS Star Hammer Shuttle Craft A-1,
1100, Solar Forces Time Standard

Novato taps the hilt of his dress saber lighly against the deck of the shuttle craft he shares with a full squad of full armed and armored Solar Marines. He looks up suddenly from his long entrancement with the floor of the spartan shuttle craft.

"ETA?"

"Fifteen minutes, Commodore. We are beginning final approach vectoring now and will have completed full atmospheric re-entry in forty-six seconds."

"Good," he turns back to the floor and the tapping of the sword hilt. Novato knows well all aspects of his mission here. Both those he must carry out in the name of the Hegemon and those he must carry out in the name of Ginias Saharin.

A gleaming white aircar with an ornate golden "T" emblazoned on the hood settled to the ground next to New Detroit Spaceport's VIP landing pad.

A single man exited from it, a handsome Alpha Double Plus with blonde hair and light blue eyes, wearing a nicely tailored grey suit with a black tie. He was Trey Paloma, Assistant Administrator to the World Controller who governed the capital province of Mesa. Normally a lesser official would be sent, but Mesa had much to lose and gain from a friendly relationship with the Hegemony, and the Council certainly didn't want to make a bad impression.

Ten soldiers, all Beta Pluses, waited for the shuttle landing as the honor guard. Paloma nodded with approval at their rigid stance and spotless uniforms. His eyes were drawn up to the sky, toward the descending spot that was the Ortagan shuttle. "Ah, here they come now."

Novato adjusts his saber before exiting the shuttles. He eyes with a note of satisfaction the implaccable mirrored faces of the Solar Marines hidden behind the protective masks of their battle-armor. Polished bayonets glisten in the light of a sun that is alien, even to the vast war machine of the Hegemony.

His eyes narrow as he studies his native welcoming committee. There is something...odd about them. The Perfect Glas had warned him that the Mesans were consumed by an obsession with genetic engineering, although he had warned him that they were no where as close to the abomination as the Wickians. But Novato still wondered about that, Glas was by no means a normal citizen of the Hegemony and his own perceptions were vastly different from those of any native born son of the Hegemony. Indeed Rear Admiral Saharin's own command and his own views were not entirely the same of the rest of the Hegemony. But then the Rear Admiral's brilliance and his inventions were more than enough to excuse a few eccentricities. Besides, Ginias Saharin did not have to worry about pleasing Strategos Garahou, Polemarch Galt, or even Director-Observer Kendra Ansel. He reported directly to the Hegemon, and as such was beyond the reach of any lesser inquisition.

Novato carefully measures his step as he approaches the Aryan man apparently leading the Mesan delegation. He stops a few feet away and folds his hands neatly behind his back. Finally he offers a nod to the Mesan representative.

"On behalf of His Excellency, Hegemon Channing Ansel, and his representative, my commanding officer, Rear Admiral Ginias Saharin of the Solar Navy I extend greetings to the Mesan Conglomerate. I have been empowered with limited ability to treaty and negotiation with an appropriate representative of the Council of the Conglomerate on behalf of the Hegemony and its Citizens."

OOC: Sorry about the delay.

Paloma returns the nod respectfully to Novato. "Welcome to Mesa, Commodore Novato. I am Trey Paloma, Assistant Administrator to World Controller Tapley. I will be your guide during your stay here. If you will follow me, I have a private aircar waiting to take us to the Council. A bodyguard may accompany you, but for security reasons, we wish that the rest of your soldiers wait here for now."

Novato arches any eyebrow a centimeter or so.

"Very well....Administrator," he motions to the Lieutenant commanding his honor guard.

"Yes, Commodore."

"Lieutenant, you and the rest of your men will stay with the shuttle. I will take one of your men with me."

"Yes, sir," the Marine lieutenant points at one of his men who rapidly moves forward.

Novato turns back to the Administrator, his expression cool.

"Let us depart then, Administrator. I have several proposals to discuss with the your Council and Rear Admiral Saharin wishes the preliminaries to be dealt with a certain matter of expediency."

The government aircar lifts up smoothly from the pad, and is joined by another military aircar as escort. The duo swept over the capital city, New Detroit, named after the city where the old Earth automotive company had been founded. The architecture was best described as both shiny and bland. Buildings were all geometric shapes, mostly rectangles, pyramids, and cylinders. The shiny descriptor came from each building being pure white, which the sun brightly reflected from. Here and there rose a flat mushroom shape, those were the Hatchery Centers. The aircars swept toward the city center, where a giant white cone rose from a surrounding park.

The military escort diverged off on its own course, and the government aircar slowly entered a small hangar built into the upper portion of the building. A green uniformed Gamma worker stepped forward to open the passenger doors, and Paloma climbed out. "Here we are, Administration Center. If you'll follow me I'll show you to the Council Chamber."

***

Two massive wooden doors opened automatically as the group approached. The floor changed from plastic tiles to marble, and the decoration shifted from spartan to something more comfortable. The Council table was a "U" shape, with six grey uniformed men and women sitting at each arm. The center of the curve was occupied by a grey haired man wearing a white uniform tinged with gold, and wearing a single decoration, a gold T over his left breast. Paloma stops at the door, but waves for Novato to continue. The grey haired man rose from his chair.

"Welcome Commodore Novato. I am Frederick Haynes, Chief Administrator of the Mesan Conglomerate, and System Controller for the Mesa System. Mr. Paloma, you may go now."

Novato's marine escort stands at stiff attention next to the council chamber's entrance. He acts as if he is little more than a piece of furniture, mirrored faceplate staring off over the collective heads of the Conglomerate's council.

Novato himself steps forward, ignoring his own Marine guardsmen and Paloma. He stands ramrod straight before the Council, and offers Haynes a respectfully deep--if somewhat brief--nod.

"It is a pleasure, Chief Administrator. I believe that I bring fortunate news to both yourself and the rest of the Conglomerate's Council. Both of our nations are well aware of the recent discovery of the new terminus connecting Alpha Centauri to the Cluster via Yeltsin's Star. And I believe we can be frank enough to admit that the discovery of this new terminus marks a point of dynamic change in the state of Raumreich affairs--both in the Inner Marches and in the Cluster. The Hegemony realizes the potential economic and strategic gains the Valinor will make through controlling this latest addition to their junction, and we also realize that the Star Empire's tendencies to enforce their own moral and political ideals on their neighbors threatens to irreparably alter the course of the Mesan Conglomerate an its allies."

"However, despite all their power the Valinor have shown consistiently they do not wish to disrupt the balance of power and cause another Raumreich-wide war. As Gustav II did with the War of the Lion and the greater conflict known as The Great War. Based on these observations, I come bearing an offer from Rear Admiral Ginias Saharin in the name of His Excellency, the Hegemon Channing Ansel. That is, if the Council is willing to entertain hearing it...."

Novato's voice is filled with a neutral, indifferent tone that holds some mixture of respect and decorum as he addresses the Council. No note of threat could be found by merely listening to the conversation alone, but when combined with the actions of the Hegemony to those that oppose it the intent is obvious. To not entertain listening to Saharin's and the Hegemon's proposal risks the creation of the pretext necessary for the Hegemon to launch a "campaign of necessary intervention" as it is commonly dubbed by the Hegemony's state-controlled media. Few need to hear those words twice, as it was last used to justify the Hegemony's actions in Seljuk, Thetis, and New Edo.

Haynes smiled wryly, "I do believe that is the entire reason you are here as an honored guest, Commodore. This Council is all too familiar with the threat that the Talbott Federation poses to us with their newfound access to Valinor technology and ideals, let alone the threat that the Star Empire poses to our exports and very existence. So yes, yes, we are quite eager to listen to your Master's offer."

The USS Congress cruised through the Split system, the center of the Federal Navy in the Southern Territories, the bulwark that kept the barbarians at bay. The ship however was like most attached to this station, old and weathered, though she had just completed refit being jury-rigged with several new technologies including a Ferris wheel that allowed gravity in certain areas of the ship. Other improvements were found in sensors, and engines, and her armor. All in all she was a fine fighting ship and her crew would challenge any those who spoke differently.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v503/thewick/175bilc2.jpg

Commander Victor Rall sat slouched in his chair as he stared at the envelope containing his sealed orders. He sipped from his merlot letting the flavors wash about his mouth as he reached for his letter opener. He was glad for the pleasure of almost 1 G of gravity in this small section of the ship, thanks to the rotating ferris wheel, a variant of a system received in a recent tech transfer form the Valinor, besides his cabin, the sick bay and the gym, no other ship could boast such a luxury. Rank truly hath its privileges.

He used his antique silver letter opener to part the wax seal from the envelop, he consider the tradition of a sealed orders in the Grayson Navy, it would have been much easier for flexi or computer copies but tradition was hard to change. He read them to himself,


Naval Office
Commander V.P Rall
Commanding USS Congress
Federal Navy

Commander: As soon as you deem the Congress able you shall proceed to the Cinnabar system in the Southern Territories to conduct anti piracy patrols. You are to investigate the reports of raids committed by a privateer squadron from Monica consisting of two cruisers each of twenty tubes. Resupply and refit are available from the depot vessels in orbit of Norwich or Cinnabar.

Godspeed,

Vice Admiral Vincetta FNSTCO



So that was the game…pirate hunting. It should be a good way for his old bitch of a ship to get her sea legs back after her recent refit though as such cruises were often uneventful, or so he hoped. Within the hour he had returned to the bridge and the Congress entered Hyper en-route to Cinnabar.

Prosperity.
It was the third tenet of Mesan society, that everyone should contribute as much as they could to their own wealth, and through that, society's wealth.

DuPont grinned as he read the financial report he'd been given. His ship had been repaired since its engagement with that carrier, and he'd managed to capture two moderately sized merchant ships since then. The government rewarded crews with 3% of a captured ship's worth, and he got 10% of that, with the rest being divided up among officers and crew. With those two captures, he'd made just over a million dollars, adding to his fortune.

Let those Admirals and Commodores strut around on their fancy bridges, this is the line of work to be in. He took a sip from his glass of wine, savoring the flavor. If I were to retire, I wouldn't have to work again for the rest of my life.

His desk computer beeped at him, notifying him of new mail. He opened it, and hissed as he realized that he'd just received new orders. Damn, shore leave just got cut short. Didn't those desk jockeys have anything better to do then to create stress in his life?

He jabbed the intercom to the bridge. "Mark, we just got new orders, we're to troll for prey in Norwich, then move on to Cinnabar and then Shift. We're making a nice loop through enemy territory, then back into Conglomerate space. Prepare the ship to leave dock at once."

"Aye Sir."

DuPont switched off the intercom, he was pissed, and decided he needed some stress relief. "Slut! Get out here."

A nude and redheaded young woman emerged from the living room of his mini-suite, he'd purchased her while his ship had been laid up in dock for repairs. He sat their for a moment, appreciating her figure, and then unzipped his trousers. "Relax me."

So far the cruise was rather un-eventful for Midshipwomen Terry Gontarz. It was the third watch, the junior officer’s of the ship commanded her at this point, all the senior officers were in their racks at this early hour. Gontarz didn’t mind as it meant she would not be scrutinized by someone like the XO, it was a nice break.

She stared into her sensor display scanning for any contact that appeared erroneous. Conditions had been fairly well that was until the Congress enter the region known as Edson’s Rift, a particular nasty piece of business with treacherous gravity waves and powerful eddies. Sensors would be degraded by these conditions and as such the rift was often feared to harbor pirates and privateers, possibly the very same sort of scum the captain was after himself.

Haynes smiled wryly, "I do believe that is the entire reason you are here as an honored guest, Commodore. This Council is all too familiar with the threat that the Talbott Federation poses to us with their newfound access to Valinor technology and ideals, let alone the threat that the Star Empire poses to our exports and very existence. So yes, yes, we are quite eager to listen to your Master's offer."

Novato boils internally as he hears the term master. He is no slave, not even to Ginias Saharin. He is an officer of the Solar Navy, a servant of the Citizens of the Hegemony. But once again the words of Glas drift into his mind.

Control yourself at Mesa, Commodore. The Mesans have a very distinct culture, and their ways are just as alien and different from what you are accustomed to as if you were to travel to Valinon, Vakutu, or Vernii.

"The Hegemony needs human resources, Chief Administrator. Both for military and labor applications. For far too long the potential of my own nation has been limited by the mere constraints of reproduction and growth, Rear Admiral Saharin and the Hegemon seek to resolve this matter once and for all. We wish to establish a permanent conduit of personnel resources from the Conglomerate that can allow us to expand our industry and re-establish the balance of power in the Inner Marches as it should exist."

"In return the Hegemony will offer the following compensations," Novato eyes the Chief Administrator cooly. "First the establishment of a permanent and expedient means of travel and communication between Mesa and the Inner Marches by creating a warp gate link between this system and Roum. Second a military alliance between the Conglomerate and the Hegemony. Third a reasonable means of technological and munitions exchange from the Hegemony to the Conglomerate, to be dictated by the discretion of Rear Admiral Saharin. Fourth the support of the Hegemony, as a veto power consul, in all matters regarding the Conglomerate presented before the Liga der Raumreich. What do you have to say, gentlemen?"

Haynes smiled as he listened to Novato's offer. "The details of the agreement will need to be worked out later of course, but I see no problem with the basic outline of it. Do any of you gentlemen and ladies?" None of the twelve Council members spoke out. "Good."

"Of course, I would like an assurance that my nation's sovereignity will not be infringed upon."

"So long as the Conglomerate is willing to abide and uphold its respective end of the final agreement between the Hegemony and itself, sovereignity and local autonomy will be respected. However, I will warn you now, Chief Administrator, the Solar Navy and the Hegemony take very seriously the security of any and all warp gates--regardless of whether they exist within or without of the Hegemony's formal borders."

"Well then, we'll just have to make sure there's no reason for your Solar Navy to fear for the security of such an investment in capital. Are there any thoughts from the Council?"

A slightly overweight man in what appeared to be his sixty's spoke up, "I personally don't like it. They could easily create a reason to impugn on our sovereignity if they felt like it, especially concerning the warp gates."

Haynes mentally cursed to himself. Alfred, while pointing out the obvious, had no sense of tact.

A councilwoman, Estella Marina, spoke up from the opposite side. "Controller, I doubt that the Solar Navy would bother with creating a pretext if they wished to invade. Indeed, I imagine that if they wished to conquer our system, they would have attacked right now, rather then giving us a generous alliance offer such as this."

Haynes interrupted, "Shall we put this to a vote?"

He reached down and pressed a button, caushing a small light on the front of his desk to light up green, for affirmative. The other Controllers voted soon after, lighting up red and green. The vote came down to ten affirmative, three negative.

Mesa accepted the Ortagan offer.

Novato bows, partially as a gesture of respect but mostly to conceal the small smile spreading across his mouth. Let the Mesans think what they will, their acceptance of the offer would have happened one way or another. Personally, Novato thought the alternative way would have worked considerably better--as it would not leave any room for the Mesans to foster dreams of parity with the Hegemony at a later date.

"I shall see this message conveyed back to Roum at once, Chief Administrator. I believe that His Excellency will be most pleased to hear that you have chosen to accept these terms."

"However, it will be necessary for my command to begin a complete survey of the system. That way the warp gate can be located at the optimum location. And that way construction may begin quickly once Rear Admiral Saharin arrives to over see in initial stages of construction, as well as to finalize the agreement on behalf of His Excellency and the Hegemony."