NationStates Jolt Archive

Meet George O' Hannon the 71st. He's a 23 year old Rosian who happens to be a drunk, gets into fights, and happens to support the Libertarian Party... and he lives off welfare. Did I mention he's Irish? No? Well now that explains everything doesn't it?

He works at RNA, in specific the RNSD, the Rose Nationalized Space Division. Yes it exists, I just didn't happen to mention it. Him, and a few other hundred thousand workers... hey they have consent! But what were they building exactly? And why were they building it? Well I can't tell you what, that would ruin the story.

But I can tell you why.

Why? Because of nationalism! Well, that's the 5% there. The rest needed the cash, it was high paying too. 25 Roses an hour! Higher then that cheap 7 bucks an hour eh? And that's why George was doing it, he needed money! And he couldn't live off welfare forever now could he? But the strange thing is, he didn't know exactly what he was building.

But he did know that it would involve space.

And talking about space, there was some construction going on up there too! It was a sphere like thing, and on top was a giant cannon that was being built. Oh and hilarity!

"Um... Roska, I think that John is dead. Over."

"What do you mean, over."

"He burned his suit with the torch and is now floating helplessly. Over."

"Oh... should we pick him up? Over."

"Negative. You don't have to send a re-supply capsule either."

And by the way, John was delicious.

Anywho. We have random workers... working on stuff in RNSD, cannabilistic astronauts who double as construction workers, oh my! You want to know something else? This was happening everywhere! Above the Mediterranean Sea! (Only in Earth II) And in South China! (Only on Earth II) But that's not all, this was being built in New Rose, New Roska, New Rosktai, New Red, and... um... that last place... actually no. That's it.

What's that? You're scared and you're saying this in a sarcastic tone? Well I advise that you remove that sarcastic tone because by the time that the Imperial Commonwealth is done, you're gonna make a mud pie, the wet kind. The only kind, the delicious kind! Delicious bitch!

Back to Georgie boy. The scene: Lunchtime. And they're eating sandwhiches, hm!

"George." Said his fellow co-worker Alex. "How was your day yesterday?"

"Eh." George said in a Brooklyn accent. "Bad. Day took mah car, mah T.V., and mah dignity."

"They stole your dignity?"

"Yeah."

Alex pulled out a soda bottle labeled "Dignity". "Here, have some Dignity. It tastes good."

George grabbed it and gulped it all down. "Thanks!"

"You're welcome."

Lunchtime's over! Back to work! And thus ends Part Uno of... the SAGA! The Nameless Saga. Bitch. No I ain't writing anymore today.

tag, hilarious stuff, man.

tag, hilarious stuff, man.

(OOC: I try. At least my sense of humor isn't gone.)

Bump

OOC: ROFL! love the sarcasm, can't wait to see how this turns out, but i feel the need to make a post involving the one over the Mediterranean.. I'll post once its become internationally known...

[OOC: Very funny indeed!]

Welcome to Part Deux of the SAGA! The Nameless Saga... that has no name! Back where we were, George regained his dignity by drinking the soda Dignity... no I'm not kidding. It really does give you dignity! Or is it the one that gets you in a ridiculously high and is illegal in all parts the Empire no matter what position you're in?

You guessed it, it's the soda! What? You thought I was gonna take George in an adventure involving purple dragons and Michael Jackson where he ends up sleeping next to a fat man who at the time looked like Pamela Anderson resulting in him getting AIDS, arrested, and commiting suicide with his lifemate Bubba with a sharp toothbrush? Bah! That is so predictable, so '90s, and I need to keep appearences up. So much that I wasted five dollars on bottled water... kidding! Please, I can get water for free.

Anywho.

Back in space the sphere was still getting constructed, it was habitable but... well it couldn't really command, it could just float. But it did float in a sexy way, so that is some progress. But the construction astronauts were breaking, how so? Let's read one their journal passages. Or however it's spelled.

March 10, 2005

It's starting to get lonely up here. Sure the John was delicious and I got to eat the heart, but it doesn't fill the emptiness I have. And I don't know if it's the meat talking, but I'm starting to find Dan sexually attractive.

The writer of this passage is a man. He's married and has 3 kids. And if I get any deeper into it, the Mods will wipe me from existance... and I do not want that. Nope, nein, no.

But to main part of the story. With every defense system, it has to have another defense system. This defense system was a space shuttle.

Huh?

An undisclosed hanger in the Island of Rose

The hanger is Area 51-esque. The people inside are important people. Nikolai Geoff of Rose Nationalized Arms, Chancellor of Defense Wilhem von Sturben, and a dude with a stereo. How is a random man with a stereo important? Well, you'll see. And inside the hanger? A triangle like thing. The people are outside the hanger.

"So this is it?" Said Wilhem.

Nikolai nodded. "Yes. The backbone of the future Space Grid. It will instill fear into our enemies, and tell us that we're very attractive at the same time. Do you wish to see it?"

Wilhem simply nodded yes.

Nikolai snapped at the man and the man turned on the stereo. The song?

The theme to the the movie 2001: A Space Oddeysey. You know the one that goes "Dan, dan, dan, DAN DAN! DAN DAN DAN DAN DAN DAN DAN." That one? Yeah, it was played. Wilhem wasn't amused.

"Oh come on!" Snapped Wilhem. "For the love of God! Do you have to have that song playing!?"

Nikolai took out a large contract looking document and pointed his right index finger at it. "Under Article Five, Section B, we must play this song everytime we present some insanely huge. Thus says the contract. It's cast in iron you know."

No it really was made out of iron. The kind used in metals by the way, not
the hair thing.

Wilhem sighed. "Fine... continue."

And as the music played, the craft was rolled out, and it was so. It was a space shuttle thing! Well, it looks like the shuttle that's gonna be used to go to Mars, but sleeker, smaller, and of course... sexy! It would be a tandem ride, gunner and the driver side by side! All right! It had two missile pods on the bottom too! That fired missiles... of doom! Yes they were guided and there were six on each pod. And on the nose was a Vulcan gun thing of firing... yeah. It was a gatling gun.

Nikolai chuckled. "The R/SF-1A."

Wilhem smirked. "Excellent. Two on each station, and when these can be mass produced, we'll be unstoppable... to a point."

"A point." Replied Nikolai.

Meanwhile around the Empire

Meanwhile around the Empire, the Grand Empire, the Sexy Empire, the Empire of Doom, the Doomtastic Empire, the Doomity Empire, and the... yeah I ran out of alternative titles to the Imperial Commonwealth of The Island of Rose. Hey, you try doing this! Doom can only used so many times. Maybe I should've gone with the Sexed Up Empire, but that's just wrong. And possibly illegal.

Anywho.

Rockets were being launched everywhere! Well, the respective sectors of the Empires! And from those rockets were satellites! And those satellites had missiles, of doom! Nasty doom! The kind of doom that makes you say damn. And there were eight of these missiles on each satellites! And there were twenty satellites! And there were many exclamation marks in this sentence! And God said it was good and rested, Amen.

Well let's see, we have the satellites up in space, the command spheres are still being contructed, and the shuttle fighters were revealed... for the first time! Yes! What's left?

Lunchtime!

"Hey George."

"Heya Alex."

"George you look bad, what happened?"

"Ya know when ya drink tah much, and ya think you're bangin' Pamela Anderson but itsa fat man?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, it was Pamela Anderson."

"How's that bad?"

"She gave me European AIDS?"

"How is it European?"

"It's rude, it criticized my clothes, and it hates America."

"No no no. You have the French version."

"Oh."

"Just buy some Nazicana and it'll go away. It works by invading the French virus and getting rid of it. Just don't use the Amerital, it makes the Nazicana useless and makes the virus worse."

"Thanks!"

Thus ends Part Deux of the SAGA! The Nameless Saga that has no name! Next Part... Part Blank!

(OOC: You don't know that a grid is being built. You're just seeing a bunch of satellites being launched. Other then that, thanks :P)

OOC:I'm the only Empire of Doom here! ME!!!!!

OOC:I'm the only Empire of Doom here! ME!!!!!

(OOC: No you're the Empire of DOOM. See the difference?)

Bump

Bump

Above the Earth, in the Soviet Bloc DefenseNet's dozens of space stations, relay stations, and command centers, a fervor of activity. The Island of Rose was constructing a similar system and members of the 3rd Experimental Interceptor Wing were itching to ruin the party...

Unfortunately, they already knew that the 3rd EIW was coming and their station had been alerted. Hopefully, one of the 3rd EIW's SoyuzA3 interceptors would duel on of TIoR's new 'shuttle fighters'. None of the members of the Experimental Space Force had ever been pitted against intelligently piloted space craft, mostly focusing on inanimate targets, satellites, and defenseless space stations. Now was their time to test the SoyuzA3 against a real opponent...


"Vik, we have confirmation of mission status?" spoke a man in an orange pressure/space suit, a bulbous dome helmet revealing a darkened face. The man was seated in a cockpit with seven monitors situated in front of him. Three central monitors displayed a view in space directly in front of him. Four other monitors displayed weapon status, vessel status, and other status screens. To his sides were more monitors, revealing views to the sides, top and rear. To each side were joysticks and his foot rested on a throttle control with the other foot resting on a reverse throttle control. The compartment was cramped with exposed cables, pipes, oxygen cylinders, status gages, a docking hatch.

The SoyuzA3 was a completely remodeled Soyuz delivery vehicle. The front capsule was remade to have a more sloped exterior, providing a wide surface area for a front-facing window. The docking hatch was slightly below its normal position. Its solar wings remained to provide power to the weaponry systems while its rocket booster system was modified and made more efficient. More fuel was added. And more maneuvering thrusters and their fuel were added. The SoyuzA3 sported the SWK-G-40 'rocket cannon', which fires a mini-rocket, unguided with a small delayed explosive charge. A total of one hundred of the rockets were fitted in a belt-type format to the SWK-G-40...


"Da, Serj, have fun..." came the voice from the station command center.


"Heh, will do." Sergei lightly laughed as he flipped a hydrualic lever to his right, locking the docking hatch system and maintaining pressure within the vessel. A second switch snapped off the docking lock system and the SoyuzA3 drifted lightly from the dock. His foot tapped the reverse throttle control and the SoyuzA3 drifted in reverse. As he cleared the spindly structure, his right wrist twisted the maneuvering joystick control, twisting the craft to his left, facing a black void. Stars were scattered and flickering, a sight to behold by all. A computer monitor to his right showed a three-dimensional view of space around him. The massive HUD which covered the SoyuzA3's window was inoperative, being replaced by the Direct Neural Interface. He could see everything around him, his weaponry, everything within his mind, however, he didn't utilize it to pilot the craft, choosing to do it manually. He oriented the nose of the craft on his target objective, the station being constructed over the Island of Rose. His foot pressed down on the throttle control for a moment, rocketing the vessel up to speed and shooting across the horizon, held into orbit courtesy of the earth. He let off the throttle control, the vessel continuing at the same speed.


Within minutes, he was at the target destination. A metallic structure in the far, far distance had been illuminated by the DNI in his own vision. A status bar on the side revealed distance to target. He was there. His hand gripped the manuever control and pulled it lightly back, reverse thrusters slowed the craft as it slowly maneuvered towards the 'construction site'. Utilizing the close quarters maneuvering system, the SoyuzA3 maneuvered herself into a stationary position only meters from the nearest object.


Lieutenant Colonel Sergei Relusov unbuckled himself from the five point harness and pulled off the bulbous helmet, setting it off to the side in a netting to prevent it from floating around. He digged around and produced a pearl white helmet with a gold visor and 'SBSF' patterned on the side of the helmet, along with a number and a few drawings. Across the back was written 'Chasovoy', the name of his SoyuzA3. He floated over the control systems towards the docking hatch, snagging a coiled hose on the vessel wall, he brought the end towards his suit and attached it to a box on his right side, he lifted a lever and felt the cool oxygen enter his suit. He took a deep breath and fumbled with the pressurization lever, he activated it and a display panel revealed that the oxygen and atmosphere had been vented into space. He was clear to open the door. Through his DNI, he contacted the command station and was given the radio frequency of the TIoR workers and station. He quickly changed it to the frequency as he undid the docking hatch, thrusting it open.


He pushed himself into the void outside, the sun a bright beacon, its rays deflected by the thin gold covering on this visor. As he oriented himself outside the SoyuzA3, he observed the workers, many wondering what the hell was going on...

"Well, hellllllllloooooo ladies..." He flashed a haphazard salute before gripping onto a holding rail on the exterior of the SoyuzA3. In the event anything came close, he could maneuver the spacecraft externally by entering a 'key' into a small access panel near his position, it would reveal a small 'joystick' control system for maneuvering the vessel...


"This is Lieutenant Colonel Sergei Relusov of the 3rd Interceptor Wing from the Soviet Bloc Experimental Space Force. I'm here for our war game."

The R/SF-1A. It was already being built and the two in each station were there. And the station was being built ahead of time... and under budget too! The Command Center in most of the stations were already built or were almost done and the docking centers were already launched up and connected to the Command Center. But there were two docking centers. The right one being for military cargo and the left being for civilian cargo. But why were civilians going to live in a space station?

Tourism bitch!

Also, a city is going to be contructed, a small city. Being able to house 1,000 people and shops, for the people shall live in giant bunkers... of doom. Well not of doom, but they're pretty imposing. Either way, the next part of the station was being built... the most important and biggest part... the Missile Capsules. They held 3rd Stage Long Range MIRVs. They are simply pushed out and they fly towards their destination. Of course they're not nuclear.

They're neutron.

And nobody, nobody outside the Imperial Council knows. Nope, the Island doesn't know and the Imperial Congress doesn't know. The world doesn't know either, of course we'll just say they're non-nuclear. And if anybody wants to investigate... we'll sue. Yes, we can sue countries.

But back to the Soviet story here.

As the R/SF-1A heard the transmission. The cockpit looked fancy, fancy buttons, fancy switches, fancy beeps, fancy radio, fancy porn... oops I said that out loud. But basically, it looked very advance. And the helmet view was cool man! To the left was a small icon of the ship which indicated what damage it had. Green of course meant, healthy. To the bottom was an altimeter, and of course we had the HUD that displayed what weapon it had all of those fancy things.

"Ladies?" The pilot said. "I am one." Introducing Lt. Emilia Sanchez, a Cuban 29 year old pilot with lots of experience. She is one of the special few chosen, and special she is... in bed! Kidding kidding! I don't want a lawsuit now, damn UCLA giving people rights and things. Let's continue. "I'm out here. I guess the stealth system works."

The fighter was painted in pure black. And it had a wonderful stealth system, though what kind will be decided by me when I study more of the subject. "Now come back out, here are the rules. This is only to disable the craft, not to the death. I assume the missiles are only for disabling the craft and the gatling gun or whatever you have is MILES? We don't want an accident now you hear?"

She flew the craft over the temporary station in which the workers were staying so Sergei could see her. "Now let's go." She speed away in a dramatic movie like way... and whatnot. Yeah she's still over Rosian airspace. You just need to find her.

The small cargo jet zoomed at an 89 degree angle to the earth upwards. From Liechtensteinian Liebermonk, the speeder was loaded with foods, supplies, scientists, and weaponry. One special passengar was Foreign Minister Salinas. As it zoomed upward its arc began to curve ever so slightly.
"Whoa, watch out there Bob. Navigation is telling me that the gravitational feilds of mars in relation to Luna is marking our target of Ida as not in normal position. We'll have to adjust .79 degrees."
"Done." The pilot didn't like to speak much during flights. The rest of the crew, which included: navigation, weaponry, radar, and life support were much more talkative. However, today would be slightly different.
"Captain, I think something is wrong." The radar officer noticed every little detail.
"What is it?"
"The radar shows a rather large blip, one that wasnt there before."
"Well pull up the view screen, maybe our camera's can catch it."
As the screen scrolled down, the image began flickering into view. Not only was it huge, but it was right in their path.
"We're heading right for it!" shouted the navigation officer. "Change course to vector 4 by 2.8 degrees!"
"That wasn't there before! Where did that come from!" The pilot broke habit and spoke up for once. "What the hell is that!?!" Radar enacted their scanners, which at this distance, would gain some knowledge of the sattelite.
"I doesnt look finished.. there is a station releasing communicaiton signals, probably tests. Most likey it is command center. And what appears to be two different docking bays are present. And there is something else.. Sir, I have no idea what the hell this is, but I think we should alert Minister Salinas."
"I already know." Salinas stated as he stood right behind her. "Just get out of here. We'll leave the rest to the politicians. I just want to survive this situation and act like we mean no harm. Disable all weaponry."
"I dont think that's a good idea," the pilot cried.
"I dont think its a good idea to appear a threat to think. It's biiger than us, and thats the fact that matters. Now lets just play the innocent card and get to Ida. From there we can use our long range scanners to watch this area."
As Foreign Minister Salinas returned to his room, he began thinking of the satellite. Why? Why would they build such a thing in an area with ships that travel? Did they not realize the chances of getting caught? I guess we'll just alter our flight plans from now until we learn about this situation more.

"Hmm... Emilia!" Instantly, across a wireless broadband network, the image of a nude brunette beauty materialized... The image found its way across the world, transmitted to every DNI, aircraft, command center, everywhere, courtesy of the ARSB DefenseNet and his DNI. It would've also shown up on any computer screen in the immediate area with that broadband frequency... He suddenly realized the mistake, "Fuck!" He shut the image from his mind and clicked off the wireless link. Anyways, now it was safe... He straddled the open docking hatch as the image reappeared in his mind... "Emilia... AHA! It was in Pizda Monthly. Ahh yes... Mmmm... Wait. No!" He shook his head and watched the spacecraft veer over his head. He reactivated the DNI and sized up his opponent from available data...


"Yeaaaaaaaahhh... I need to get a new paintjob..." He lightly coughed. He listened to the rest of her transmission, "Well, I'll be damned... Its a woman! And yes, I have... MILES? As you call it, the laser system for recognizing damage? Yes, I have one installed." He contemplated on what he would say next. "Well, in the great words of my father: kooshi govno ee omree, suka!" He grinned, although it was hidden by the mask and slapped his ass. He pulled himself into the craft and pulled the hatch shut, latching it. He disconnected the lines from his suit and switched helmets after he had pressurized the cabin. He maneuvered himself over the central console and sat down, pulling the harness over him and securing it. Now he was ready, a flick of a switch and the vessel powered up, primary systems coming online.


"How about we light this party up?" His hand flittered across the control panel and initial LIDAR and RADAR composite tracking came online. The two seperate modes would cross-reference each other to produce a three dimensional map of the area with long range surveillance provided by ARSB satellites. Everything was in sight, including the temporary station which took up a massive blob due to its incredible signature. He had to get farther out to utilize the tracking to its full potential. He swiveld the vessel around and nudged her deeper into space, now he had a better view. Ms. Sanchez's vessel was painted black and undoubtedly hard to see which meant LIDAR wouldn't be the most effective, although he'd still use it. This is where RADAR would play a key role, he was hoping her craft didn't have RAM, and from what he could judge it wasn't the most stealthy of designs. A light kicked on in his brain and his right hand hit a control icon on a central touch pad screen, now the IRST came online, scanning the horizon for a piece of heat in the cold void of space. This is where her vessel would light up like a halogen light in a dark cave. Bingo.


Now he broke into song, with a little Eddie Money (which was now being transmitted across the radio), [i]"I can feel you breathe, I can feel your heart beat faster..." he paused for a second and rocked his head. "Take me home tonight. I don't want to let you go until you see the light. Take me home tonight..." His voice became high-pitched, "Be my little baby..." Now it returned to the normal tone, "I can't fight it, can't stop it. I get memories, I hate to sleep alone, I need some company, a guardian angel..." He stopped, "Oh hell no." He quickly adjusted a few options on a touch screen to his right... Now it was time for some Head East.


"Did ya have any bad dreams? Did ya break any glass? Would ya be my companion? Is there even a chance? You been talkin in circles since I been able to cry, there's never been any reason for never tellin me why..." These guys had been in space for waaaaaaayyyy too long. "Aww, save my life I'm going down for the last time. Woman with the sweet lovin', better than a white lie. Bring a good feeling ain't havin such a long time. Save my life I'm going down for the last time." There, he punched the throttle, but only for a split second, now he was hurtling towards her general direction, waiting for specifics from his guidance systems. He armed the MILES weaponry, his left hand adjusted its semi-moveable bubble turret and scanned the horizon, he was ready... And waiting...

(OOC: You can always visit the station. This is a defensive station, so don't worry. Blah SB, I wish my posts were as long as yours XD)

Emilia raised her brow. "Umm... you know... I'm going to forget that there is porn on my display and we're going to continue this fight, yes?"

She turned her vessel around and flicked another switch. It displayed a three dimensional map also, due in part to Rosian satellites that are around he area. She flicked on LIDAR and RADAR, of course. The damned thing used Soviet technology so they have to at least use some of the same sub-systems. She watched as the Soviet SoyuzA3 flew towards her. She smirked. "Heh." Then she listened to him singing. "Okay... this guy must be pretty lonely."

She shook her head. "No. He wants to get inside me. Well, if he wants to play like that..." He looked at her radio, which actually played C.D.s and whatnot and increased the bass by a thousand. Which was pretty big. Now why do you need to increase the bass? We'll find out now. She took out an un-marked C.D. and popped the baby in. The song? Get Low.

3-6-9, dammit she's fine, just lemme give it to you one more time.
Get low, get low get low get low.
Get low, get low get low get low.
To the window, to the wall! (The WALL!)
(I don't know this verse)
Watch them females crawl!
I skeet skeet skeet skeet skeet skeet! I skeet skeet, I got! I got!
I skeet skeet skeet skeet skeet skeet! I skeet skeet, I got! I got!

Note the bass is very very very high and that this is being transmitted to him, she's not listening to the song. She laughed in an ebil, yes ebil manner when the song played. "iTu no me va a joder come mierda!"

She dived down with her thrustjets activitated and when she was behind and under him she activated her special gatling gun. Now her HUD displayed him with a red circle and a small icon of the ship to indicate what parts she was hitting, and her aim was accurate too! Yes, the bullets flew due in part to the electromagnetic firing device thing and whatnot! Plus no gravity, whee! "Die big boy!"

He stopped for a second, "What the hell?!" He gripped his head, "NO!" You see, with the DNI, it was going straight to his brain, and the bass was just, well, annoying... He quickly shut the DNI down. He breathed heavily. Unfortunately, if he shuts the DNI down, the radio comes on and within the pressurized cabin of the SoyuzA3, all he could hear and feel was Get Low...

"Okay, I've had enough of this!" He quickly put his spanish skills to work and screamed into the headset, "TU RUBIO GATO!!!! SCHNELL!" Within his mind he thought, 'Schnell's German... What the hell am I saying that for?' "VAMOS! YO QUIERO TU EN MI CAMA! FUTBOL DE NORTE AMERICANO! Uhh... " Then he let loose an ear shattering screech reminiscent of Howard Dean.

Okay enough of that, now he returned his mind to the game, and what do you know, while he was screaming and screeching, she flew across in front of him, got behind him, and opened fire. Now his warning panel was yelling that he just lost half the power due to a completely shattered solar panel courtesy of Ms. Sanchez and her rotating barrels o' doom. He quickly shut off a few unnecessary systems and reverted to stored battery power.

His right hand jerked the joystick forward and his right foot floored the throttle control, the SoyuzA3's nose dipped down and came around, then he let off the throttle and punched the reverse, aligning the nose cannon with his adversary's space craft. He hit the fire button and let loose a spat of imaginary cannon fire, the MILES system letting loose a torrent of lasers at her spacecraft. As she continued firing, he rolled the craft to his right while using the maneuvering thrusters to get farther above his opponent. Now he used the 'rocket gun', letting loose a half dozen of the extremely high velocity mini-missiles which were now represented by a six-shot of laser energy, streaming towards her.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" came the sinister laugh over the radio waves.

"Ha." She scoffed. "Is that all you got you sick bastardo?" She pushed her control stick towards the cockpit, activating her jets, but not her thrusters. Just her normal things... because the other choice would overheat the fighter causing doom and making the Rosians lose... badly. And we don't want that, no? Yes? Maybe.

As she dived she outran some of the rounds but she had to stop as to not overheat the ship, causing some of the rounds to hit the engine. Unfortunately they hit in such a way that it caused the engine to be damaged. And it was damaged in such a way that now her speed was slowed down and made the fighter less maneuverable. The main advantage. Now it was even, again.

"Agh." She grunted. "Lucky bastard. But unfortunately, you must die." The icon of the ship in her HUD turned yellow on the engine part. This of course displayed damage. The computer yelled ENGINE DAMAGE! as soon as it was hit. But I think I'm just ranting.

She smirked, of course this was known. "Now..." She said over the radio. "Let's see you avoid this." She activated her ramjets, suddenly speeding towards him. It was a game of chicken, and when she was... very very very very VERY close to him, she dived. She faked that she was going to fire and do the same trick, wrong. She suddenly flew up and maneuvered her vessel to the point that now she was looking directly at the enemy cockpit. "Let's see you fight blind!" Note she was but a few inches away when activated her gatling gun again. She then used reverse thrusters to back away when she fired one heat seaking missile at the enemy.

She smirked. "RNA wanted me to test one of these. Don't worry, they're harmless just for this exercise."

"Damn woman, you're crazy..." As she had roared at him, he had opened fire, only firing a few sporadic bursts. His eyes grew wide as she continued, "What in the hell?! GAH!" He jerked the spacecraft to the right, attempting to avoid the now diving Rosian pilot. Then she came up and over, until she was right in front of him...


He cocked his head and unknowingly blurted, "Damn, they're ugly when they're in space suits..." He attempted to position himself to get a better view when her fighter maneuvered so he was staring straight down the barrel of her gattling cannons... "Oh, fuck..." It spun and the cockpit went black as the auto-dimming window blacked out. He likely would've perished in this scenario, but due to the regulations, he wouldn't and only his window would go out. Alarms began going off by the dozens, a cacaphony of alarms, buzzers, and a computer voice saying "You're fucked." over and over and over again. Stupid jokers back at command. He slammed his fist on one panel and it quickly shut up. Then a massive alarm went off and he quickly realized what it was, a missile...

He quickly maneuvered, regaining his composure, and rocketed off, he then shut off all thrusters and hit the emergency coolant system, which vented a freon solution onto the known hot surfaces, which included the turret, maneuvering thruster jets, and the primary nozzles. Now, the vessel was as cold as the space around him... And thankfully due to the window shot, it was now covered up with a metal slab, not allowing heat in the cockpit to show itself to the missile's sensors.

He had dodged the missile, but now he was blind... Time for a little DNI piloting. He quickly re-engaged the DNI and re-routed the camera views to his mind. One camera had been taken out but luckily there were still two more forward facing cameras. If worse came to worse, he could rely on the tracking systems alone, which did provide a fairly accurate view to the space around him. He muttered...

His radar revealed to him where she was, and he could faintly see her with the camera view. "Okay... You're gonna die now..." He jetted himself around so his primary thrusters were aimed towards her and his nose was aimed away. He floored her in complete reverse thrust. As he hit the midway mark, he nailed the nose mounted manuevering thrusters and came end over end, spiraling towards her before stopping, dead pan, and punching the primary thrust, rocketing up and away, there he swung around and took aim with the 'missile gun', this system had a much longer range than the cannonry, and was much faster. He unleashed a torrent of two dozen of the micro missiles towards her position then released two of his four SLOWMOs which were SLow Orientation With Maximum terminal thrust missiles (MSM-560A), which were big, lumbering things fitted with movement thrusters which would maneuver towards her behind the screen created by the micro-missiles. The two missiles moved slowly until their terminal phase where their solid fuel rocket boosters propelled them to a speed where it was near impossible to escape with the maneuvering jets giving it a light amount of movement. Likely, she would move to avoid the micro missiles only to get nailed by the twin MSM-560A missiles. Now, he unleashed a stream of cannon fire to saturate the area, there was no way she could escape damage now...

Now her eyes widened. "Oh hell no." She muttered. She quickly and possibly instinctively locked the two missiles coming towards her and with that launched her last two heat seeking missiles towards them, hoping for the missiles to explode. Of course she dived as soon as they launched but she took so much damage that her right wing got disabled.

RIGHT WING FAILURE! RIGHT WING FAILURE! The alarm said. Red light were going off and the icon of her ship turned red on the right wing, thus making it useless. "Damn." She muttered over the radio. "You lucky bastard, you took down my right wing. But if I die, you with me..." Now it's time for some fancy flying.

She activated her ramjets, this time she went faster then she has ever went before. As she headed towards the SoyuzA3 at full speed, she activated her gatling gun, firing relentlessly at the capsule hoping to take down the cameras. Yes she knew there were cameras, she was briefed! When she was close the cockpit, she activated her maneuvering thrusters underneath that were located under the ship... duh. This allowed her now to be facing the top of the capsule.

"You die now!" She shouted. She fired three dumb guided (as in, they just flew) towards the capsule. Note she was very very very very very very close. But not so close to be affected by the explosion that would happen, that's stupid. "After all of this, how about you show me around your base hm?" She said to him.

Alarms started going off in her cockpit. This time it sounded OVERLOAD! OVERLOAD! She grunted. "Shit! It's overheating, I strained her too much!" A few flicks of the switch and now the ship was cooling. "Great." She mumbled. "Now the damn thing is inactive for a minute..."

Tangled Aspargus makes you rather Gassy

He thought to himself, I hit her right wing? Does she even need a right wing in space?


As she roared towards him, the enemy threat system quickly went active, making it quite clear to the lieutenant colonel that she had just fired off three rockets toward him. His first instict was to roll out of the way and judge it from there, if they didn't follow, he was safe, if they did he was quite suitably fucked. He executed the maneuver and noted they flew straight past, disappearing in the blackness beyond. He lightly shrugged, "Well, I suppose that's good."


"Hey, I'll show you around alot more than just the base... Consider it a date." He winked... To himself. He began imaging the possibilities, which quite promptly appeared on the Rosian pilot's computer screen. He grunted and quickly got rid of the images, "Gah!" He cocked an eyebrow as he noted her spacecraft just sat there, still floating away from the energy created by her first boost. He noted no thruster movements, nothing. "AHA! Dead in the water... It's HAMMA TIME!" He frolicked up to her vessel and depressed the cannon fire control, just ripping off rounds at her spacecraft. Then he fired a few micro missiles before jetting out of there, either expecting her ship to come alive or maybe something was wrong and it was about to detonate into a massive fireball. He didn't like either outcome so his best bet was to get away and observe from a distance, which he did...


Taking this time, he quickly spoke over the radio, "Well, I have to admit, if it weren't for our stupid rules I would've been paste smeared across my seat a long time ago due to your... What do you call it? Close encouters of the 'you're fucked' kind? Where I got to personally meet your gattling cannons. You know, they're quite nice fellows until you piss them off."

She grunted. "All right, you won...technically. Next time if we have a wargame again it's going to be more realistic." Her shuttle fighter came back to life, as if nothing ever happened. She flew towards the docking bay of the right now being contructed space station. Of course it was only designed to offload things so she had to be a bit creative. First she inserted her gatling gun inside the docking bay, where it was switched for a real one in a few minutes. Then she did the same for each missile pod, but this time the missiles were all guided.

This procedure took five minutes and now she was fully armed. She flew towards the SoyuzA3. "It's not a date by the way. Home Base wants me to see what the Soviets have up. You know, for improvement. So um... not that I'm not used to pornagraphy, don't do that again hm?" Suddenly another shuttle fighter came out of nowhere.

"Hey Emilia!" The pilot shouted. "You guys done with your wargame?" The pilot was Lt. Johnathon Archer, son of a former Government Minister and a 27 year old pilot. This was the wingmate of Emilia who would help her protect the station in case of attack. Note there were only two fighters per station but each pilot was very capable.

Emilia chuckled over the radio. "Hey, this is my wingmate John. Nope, he beat me, but I could've gotten him if this was a real battle. I really made him crap!"

John laughed out loud over the radio. "Heh, you always could. So what you gonna do now?"

Emilia yawned, she was really tired after the battle, and you would be too! "I'm heading towards the Soviet's station. And no you can't come, you know you have to stay."

John sighed. "I know... see ya then." He immediately speeded away towards the station to do patrol runs and whatnot.

Emilia chuckled. "All right then Soviet, lead the way to the station, hm?"

Dear Sir or Madam,
We here in Inkana have been watching space movements with great interest. However, it seems that the Rosian goverment is building a station within missile range of our proud nation. Inkana and The Island of Rose have long been allies, but I'm afraid we cannot have this stand. We would like a full explanation of Rosian space movements and perhaps further details regarding the construction of a space station. If you refuse these simple requests from your allies, we shall have to take further action.

James L. Street
Inkanan Prime Minister
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v218/Inkana/Longstreet.gif

The Island of Rose:
The nation of Liebermonk must side with Inkana in this matter. Your construction of this space station without forwarning to other nations is simply unjustifiable. Unfortunately for Liebermonk, wwe must now recharrt and replan every space flight from now on. We deman an explanation of the meaning of the space station and the reasoning for the secrecy behind it. We also would like a full tour of this facility to ensure that it poses no threat to Liebermonk.
- Foreign Minister Salinas, Liebermonk
- Queen Lerathen, Liebermonk

Official Statement from The Imperial Commonwealth of The Island of Rose:

The Island of Rose is merely building a defensive station. It is within our rights to build one over Rosian Space and you are questioning it. It is merely defensive and we would never use its full power on an ally. We suggest that you do not worry and go back to running the affairs of your nation, and leave us to our affairs. Also the nation of Liebermonk, the station is not complete therefore we are unable to give a tour. You will have to wait until completion. Thank you.
Frederick von Hattensberg
Imperial President of The Island of Rose (http://www.geocities.com/veldes1/karl.jpg)
http://img219.exs.cx/img219/8092/tior20oi.gif (http://www.imageshack.us)
Protector of the Seven Stars

Mr.Von Hattensberg,
A station that has the capability to launch Nuclear Weapons at any one place in the world is not something that one can shrug off. I speak for the people of Inkana when I say this-I am STRONGLY displeased at what your nation is doing in outer space. You are not building a defensive station, you are building an instrument of doom; and we do not like the fact that Armegeddom is a missile's throw away from Inkana.

James L. Street
Inkanan Prime Minister
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v218/Inkana/Longstreet.gif

Official Statement from The Imperial Commonwealth of The Island of Rose:

Nuclear weapons are banned on the Island. The missiles are non-nuclear MIRVs and you have nothing to worry about. We are not violating any international law nor are we causing any problem. Hundreds of other nations have a system much more advanced then ours, why we need to be pointed out is another thing. So if you are so afraid of our station, you should focus on the other stations also.
Frederick von Hattensberg
Imperial President of The Island of Rose (http://www.geocities.com/veldes1/karl.jpg)
http://img219.exs.cx/img219/8092/tior20oi.gif (http://www.imageshack.us)
Protector of the Seven Stars

Mr.Von Hattensberg,
So you refuse to let Inkanan officials see Documents about the construction and full capability of your station(s)?

James L. Street
Inkanan Prime Minister
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v218/Inkana/Longstreet.gif

Official Statement from The Imperial Commonwealth of The Island of Rose:

But first you must aquire the documents of every other space station. We are not being threatning, but you are. The Island of Rose has a history of non-aggressiveness within the international community, therefore you have nothing to worry about. It is you who is being aggressive, we are merely revamping our defensive measures. Again I suggest that you leave us be. You have nothing to worry about.
Frederick von Hattensberg
Imperial President of The Island of Rose (http://www.geocities.com/veldes1/karl.jpg)
http://img219.exs.cx/img219/8092/tior20oi.gif (http://www.imageshack.us)
Protector of the Seven Stars

Mr.Von Hattensberg,

We are not being agressive, we are mearly concerned about the safety of Inkana from the depths of space. Having seen the destructive forces unleashed by Sarzonia onto the Generic Empire and Roach-Busters, both allies, we have reason to be worried about any activity in space. These other nations you speak about have stations MUCH smaller than yours, and have been orbiting Earth for some time now, some even longer than Inkana has been in existance. Again, we mean not to be agressive, but when it comes to the safety of one's country, not one true patriot can afford not to, no?

James L. Street
Inkanan Prime Minister
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v218/Inkana/Longstreet.gif

Official Statement from The Imperial Commonwealth of The Island of Rose:

If it troubles you so much, we will allow you to have a representative on the station. The last thing we need is to alienate a NATO ally, and frankly a long time ally. The representative can be sent towards the temporary station where the workers are staying to observe progress. But he must behave good, of course. Do you accept?
Frederick von Hattensberg
Imperial President of The Island of Rose (http://www.geocities.com/veldes1/karl.jpg)
http://img219.exs.cx/img219/8092/tior20oi.gif (http://www.imageshack.us)
Protector of the Seven Stars

Mr.Von Hattensberg,

Upon thinking the issue over, we will agree to send our Minister of the Space Forces, Ziggy Stardust, As Inkanan Representive at your Space station. however, we request that his Personal Shuttle be available to him at all times. Is this acceptable?

James L. Street
Inkanan Prime Minister
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v218/Inkana/Longstreet.gif

Official Reply:

Very well. But the shuttle and him must be unarmed.
Department of Foreign Affairs

Agreed.

James L. Street
Inkanan Prime Minister
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v218/Inkana/Longstreet.gif

Bumpty Bump Bump

The Island of Rose:
We have taken into deep consideration the issue of this space station. Your openess about the situation and quick response have put the minds of many of us to ease. When are still interested in this station and the technologies used in it. Liebermonk for some time has been space inhabitants. Perhaps we could arrange a technology sharing deal in the case that you may have soem useful invetions, or that we may be able to provide improvements to some designs you are using. With the assurance that this remains as a defensive post only, Liebermonk would be interested in helping you to the fullness of our ability to do so.
-Foreign Minister Salinas, Liebermonk
- Queen Lerathen, Liebermonk

Official Statement from The Imperial Commonwealth of The Island of Rose:

I am afraid we must reject this proposal. Most of the technology is either top secret or belongs to the nation of Soviet Bloc. But we thank the Queendom for its offer and is happy to find out that another nation doesn't consider us a rogue state.
Frederick von Hattensberg
Imperial President of The Island of Rose (http://www.geocities.com/veldes1/karl.jpg)
http://img219.exs.cx/img219/8092/tior20oi.gif (http://www.imageshack.us)
Protector of the Seven Stars

"Heh, alright..." As she switched her load-out, Sergei simply turned over his weapons system from the MILES to the actual system, arming everything except the gattling cannon, which he hoped he wouldn't need anyways, I mean, who else is out here? No one. That's right.

He waited for the two wingmates to finish their talk before opening up himself, "Aye, ma'am... Follow me." He used the maneuvering thrusters to adjust his heading, the OPS [Orbital Positioning System] relayed to him where the stations position was... Thousands of miles away... Yet, due to the amount of thrust these vessels had, it would take mere minutes to get there, and all they'd have to do is fire one single burn and momentum would carry them. He fired his main engine and quickly shot off towards the haze of where the atmosphere met space, hugging it until the OPS informed him of distance and slowing procedure. He followed the computers instructions and fired the retro-rockets, slowing himself down to a crawl as he used the maneuvering thrusters to adjust himself to dock.

The station was fairly large, however, it was only a 'regional defense station' tasked with observing activities over a certain area of the earth and assisting in coordinating operations. It was the closest station to any of the TIoR stations and thats why they chose it to have their little 'war game'. Anyways, back to the station, since it was only a region station, it lacked the rotating rings of the hemisphere command centers which were massive stations tasked for military, civilian, and industrial roles, however, the region station had a central main cylinder, which was massive, where smaller cylinders radiated outwards. Massive solar arrays were present along with a massive block which held the other two of the station's three SoyuzA3 interceptors. Sergei, today, would be docking at one of the resupply hatches which were positioned on a massive cylinder which sat noticeably farther away from the rest of the station. The reason: the hangar only held two since one SoyuzA3 had to be 'on station' at all times and prepared to depart.

A few areas on the station had small cannonry and boxes, along with bubbles which held LIDAR/LADAR detection systems along with three radar domes. The entire station was pitch black and there were several cylinders devoted solely to batteries, which meant the station could survive on battery power alone for almost a week. The only shiny objects on the station were the windows, which had armored shutters which could cover them, and the solar panels, which had 'tarps' on the ends which could be rolled over the panels to prevent detection. The entire station was coated in RAM although it had plenty of right angles to show itself on radar.

As he docked, the Docking Assistance System escorted him to the recepticle, until a hydraulic arm latched onto his nose and locked him in. A hiss echoed through the cabin and the hatch swung open. Sergei unbuckled himself and floated over the central console, pulling himself to the hatch. He slid through and then entered through the secondary pressurization hatch and into the preparation module. This is where he removed his helmet and flight gear, stowing it in a number of storage boxes and nettings. He gripped onto a hand-rail before awaiting the arrival of the Rosian pilot.

Emilia carefully maneuvered her fighter towards the station. "Wow." She proclaimed. "My sensor's aren't picking up anything at all. I guess you Soviets are good for something." She did a few rounds... around the station, picking up any information she could through her fancy sensors and whatnot. After a few minutes she carefully flew more inwards towards the station. She observed the radar posts, turrets, and took information for the Imperial Commonwealth for study and whatnot. Of course, she has to! I think, I don't know. I'm just ranting.

Anyway.

As soon as she was done with that, she finally proceeded to dock. Slowing down to a crawl thanks to the retro-rockets, she firmly docked safely, doing the same damned steps the Soviet pilot did. Now let me tell you how her suit looked like, it was safety black, black black black black. Because orange is a bit too bright if you're trying to escape, hm? She stowed her vital space equipment, only leaving her on with her tight jumpsuit and whatnot. She was a brunette, with a slight tan and a B cup... yes I'm getting too descriptive now aren't I? Well, meh.

She looked at the Soviet pilot. "Let's go hm?"

He floated there, smiling... He blinked once. Twice. He quietly looked around and thought, Good, they haven't seen her yet... Maybe I can... Lock her in the supply module and tow her space craft into orbit so it begins re-entering... Yes... Now, how do I get her to the supply module?


"Uhh... Umm... Yes... Umm... Over here, yeah, follow me." He quietly motioned for her to follow. On the way he pulled off his orange jumpsuit's upper portion, depositing it in a netting on the wall. Their suits were orange because who in the hell would hope to get rescued if they had to ditch their ships and float in space while wearing a black suit? Anyways, as he continued floating towards the hatch he slipped off the lower portion which just floated into the Rosian's face. Now he was wearing a black suit, well, not quite, off-black.

He floated through the hatch and into a central connector module... "Alright, up there we have the central command module, which is the really..." He paused and put some emphasis on the next words, "large module... That you saw when you were approaching." He eyed her before continuing, "To your right we have the storage, to the left we have the expansion stations. To my back we have more docking. And down below we have exercise, mess, and a few other assorted halls. Our living quarters are on the other end of the station. Please, where do you want to go first?"

Emilia looked at the various parts of the station. She looked at each module with an inquisitive look and whatnot. She touched the I suppose cold metal of the station and observed the floor. Bending over and whatnot looking at the dust and particles, she was a space fan you know. She was basically living out her dream. She looked at Sergei who was looking at her with a um... primal look so to speak.

She raised her brow, crossing her arms, and shifted her hips... all at the same time! "Hm." She simply said. She turned around to the direction of the command center. She looked at Sergei. "We might as well go to the command center, I might as well alert them to my precense. I have a strange feeling that they don't know I'm here. Besides, I want to see how your operations work."

She paused. "Okay?"

"Uhh... Yeah, are you sure you don't want to check out the supply module..." He squinted and said to himself, Oh shit, I fucked that up... He opened his eyes and continued, "What I meant was... Uhh, follow me." He winked and quickly gripped one of the hand-holds above his head, pulling him up and into the connecting shaft which attached the central module to the command module.

"So, you like space? Been my dream, you know, I wanted to fly those things out of Tashkent Cosmodrome... Unfortunately, it didn't work out... Bad grades. So, instead, I joined the Air Force and well, whaddya know? They opened up the experimental space forces and asked for air force pilots willing to convert. I was one of the first, I'll let you know, only seven years ago, back when I was twenty-nine, yeah, that's when they put these in space. " He paused halfway up the shaft, "I've served four nine month tours up here, I've got one more month left in this tour before I return back to Earth for a six month hiatus." He propelled himself the last few feet to the hatchway into the command module, it was already open and all he had to do was give it a gentle push.

He pulled himself into the tertiary chamber, the initial room which was basically for the crew to use as personal computers and what not to communicate with friends back home. "This portion is the tertiary chamber, kind of just a place for us to talk with friends back home." He let her observe the chamber a bit before he continued to the secondary chamber. This chamber was lined with computers and chairs, TV monitors galore. "This is the communications room, for military use only. And finally..." He entered the primary chamber...

The inside was cavernous, extending hundreds of feet ahead of them and dozens of feet in diameter. Computer consoles, weapons stations, detection stations, chairs, everything, littered the module, suspended from the ceiling, the walls, the floor. One wall had a massive map of the world, next to it an 'orbital map' which was tied directly into a display system so it displayed the positions of many of the world's known satellites. Finally, there were six men stationed through-out the module, working at stations... They were the six other members of the station's seven-man operating crew. Since the region was relatively low risk, only seven men were present to operate the systems. However, the station could accomadate as many as twenty crew if the need arised.

"This is the primary chamber..." He smiled and waved his hand. The six other crew members quickly turned to look, quickly realizing that Sergei had returned but with who? They quickly shot up from their chairs and floating positions and careened down the module, they quickly lined up to greet the Rosian.

Sergei rattled their names off, "This is Colonel Leonid Heleshenkiy, our commanding officer. Uhh, next is Major Viktor Ghedienkov, our weapons officer. After him is Major Mikhail Repudikov, communications and detection officer. Behind him are Captains Hektor Komrosky and Alexei Vhenid, both pilots with Komrosky being an assistant weapons officer and Vhenid being a flight engineer. And finally, Technical Sergeant Evgeniy Gurevich, our chief engineer. We're currently on low-risk crew status hence why we only have seven crew."

He paused and let the entire crew greet her, he continued, "Well, if you have any questions, would like a better look around, please feel free to ask."

Emilia shook the hand of each of the crew. "Thank you. I never knew Soviet men were so... charming." She flashed a subtle smile. Just one, that's all you get!

She walked towards the monitors, observing each one for a few minutes. Occasionally she touched the control console or the screens. Other times she leaned over to see the televisions just a bit closer. She then focused on the large map of all the space objects. Emilia looked at it with great curiousity, and time. She looked at each object for a few minutes, with silence. Occasionally a muffled hmm or ahh here and there.

She turned to the crew. "Very nice. But I'm sure our station will be better." A wink, she walked towards the crew. "Tell me, how long did it take to make this station?"

On board the Space Station "Phoenix" in high Earth orbit...

"This is Dark Phoenix to Command, we are picking up an unknown object bearing one-eight zero. It's coming awfully close to the exclusion zone around the station, standby.
Attempting to identify with telescopes and sensors. I see missiles, I am getting no IFF response, I can't see any identification markings...I am going to call this a proable military satellite. The orbital path of the object is not changing, it may already be within firing range, please advise Command" a calm but concerned astronaut reported as he nervously fingered the master arm control switch.

"Standby." the radio operater trailed off as muffled voices were heard in the background of the busy command center.

"Command to Dark Phoenix, we are going to launch one fighter to intercept the satellite, activate station defenses and get to emergency stations, don level one protective gear incase you have a breach." ordered the senior controller in an authoritative tone.
---
Lawson Airforce Base, New Mexico, minutes later
"We have condition black, combat conditions you will launch in 3 minutes."the chief of space operations, LFB yelled loud enough to awaken the napping SF-24A Phalanx pilot.

"What's the Mission?" asked the veteran fighter pilot as he rubbed his tired eyes and quickly jumped into his pressure suit.

"You will be briefed in transit, now get moving soldier!!!" the chief shouted as he rushed up the stairs into the command tower.

In less than 2 and a half minutes the pilot was tucked in safely in his spaceplane and the rocket booster it was attached to was being raised by the automatic crane system. Final saftey check only took a 10 second computer scan since the rocket was kept maintained and on standby 24 hours a day 7 days a week 52 week a year.
The verbal countdown began immeditetly T minus 15, 14, 13, 12.... the pilot wiped sweat from his brow as the internal life support systems activated, he only had to watch gauges for this portion of the launch so he tried to relax....5, main engine start, 4, 3, 2, 1 igniton.. liftoff, we have lifroff at T+1 The pilot steadied his nerves and tryed to focus his concentration, all but ignoring the rocket and g-forces proppeling him into space at speed no man was meant to fly at. He had his mission ahead of him, and he would go after the intruding satellite and protect the station at all costs.

Sergei huffed a bit, "I wouldn't doubt it... This things old, and the only reason its still up here is because of your low risk region... Now, take some of the high risk regions and they get these big, sprawling super computer things... And don't get me started on the hemisphere command centers, damn, that was my first assignment, on one of those. Very nice. Eh, as for how long it took, oh, I think a year of continuous labor got the base station up... Since then they've been adding a module here, a module there, the last one was the hangar, which came up two years ago... Otherwise, we get occasional tech upgrades, like recently we got the DNI couplings for the fighters and a few other things, most noticeably being our new cannonry. The station also got upgraded to carry orbital weaponry, any of those missiles can be used as re-entry tools as long as we manually fit them with heat shielding. Otherwise, we carry a dozen non-nuclear ICBMs."


The tech sergeant spoke up, "However, we pride ourselves in the fact we're part of the core of the ARSB DefenseNet... This station along with the other regional stations and hemispherical stations provide the core to the system. Since the stations are spread across the world its improbable that any enemy could take out the core since only one of these stations and any of our satellites can be considered the DefenseNet. We have complete global coverage, three layers." He grinned. "Now, if you excuse me, I really have to take a piss." He gave a curteous nod to the Rosian and quickly pushed himself off of the module wall and slid to the opposite end of the module where he entered the series of modules dubbed the 'Apartment'.


Sergei watched the man leave before continuing, "Well, any more questions? If not, what module next? Trust me, you don't want to see the living quarters. Or at least until we can... Uhh... Remove the posters..." He smiled. "Well?"


One other thing in the command module was the Soviet Bloc flag which was securely fastened to the cieling, its navy blue background, golden eagle, its talons clutching a lightning bolt and arrows, a red shield across its chest, and the eighteen stars representing each district situated in an arc above the eagle's head, spreading from wing to wing while golden rays radiated in a horizon over the stars. The flag definately inspired these men who often wondered what the hell they were doing up here in such a God-forsaken environment... At least the environment brought them closer... No, not in that way.


OOC- TPM, who's station is it that you're about to 'intercept'?

OOC: One of the outer Rosian ones ;)

Orbital weapons platform St. Michael

*insert Imperial March song from Star Wars*

The massive, scary, and otherwise evil-looking (naturaly) platform used by the Doomingsland Space Legion for launching nuclear MIRVs housed only fifteen men. Five of them were marines, the others being either pilots or the platform's crew. Around the platform, three F-121 Hellspawn space fighters patroled, searching for any satelites stupid enough to venture within the platform's personal space. The evil crewmen (who wore uniforms almost exactly like those worn by Imperial officers in the Star Wars Trilogy, an idea of the Emperor) inside were doing their usual evil deeds, such as flinging small animals that they smuggled aboard out the airlocks, or flipping off passing space stations.

The commander of the station, Commander Marcus Decius, was a hardened sci-fi fan, and therefore loved every minute of his job, what with having the power to erase a chunk of the earth from existance on a whim.

He was sitting in his quarters, staring out into the black, debris-choked abyss that is space. He was having another one of his "moments".

Space... the final frontier. These are the voyages of-

"Sir! We're getting unidentified contacts!" yelled one of his nameless crewmen over the intercom, ruining the moment.

"What! Now I shall show them the power of this fully armed and operational battle station! Bwahahahaa!"

"Errr, right, just get down here."

"On my way." he muttered, somewhat annoyed. He made a mental note to have that man shot when they got back to Earth. In his ten years in the Legion, he'd had nearly twenty of his crewmen executed for such acts of annoyance.

He could have had him killed right then, weather by flinging him out an airlock, or by making use of that carbon freezing chamber the Emperor ordered installed after he watched Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back. As was previously mentioned, most things get done on a whim in these parts.

He headed out of his quarters into the evil looking hallway with glowy red lights and clanky metal floors and such and the space marines with their sleek black armor. He was on the same floor as the Command Station, and headed right inside.

"What is it?" he said impatiently to the ingrate that had summoned him.

"We have one contact heading right towards us, looks like a communications sat."

"You interrupted me for THIS?!?!?!?!" he yelled alowed, causing several crewmen to look over.

"Yes sir, you told me to tell you whenever something like this happens." he replied, seemingly unmoved. Marcus blinked a few times before speaking,

"Oh. OK, then. Blow it up."

"Aye, sir, fireing solution plotted!"

"Weapons charged! Awaiting orders!" yelled the weapons officer. This was Marcus' favorite part about the job,

"On my signal, unleash hell." he said in a purposely evil-sounding tone. He raised his right hand, and thrusted it forward. The weapons officer sqeazed the trigger on his joystick.

Outside of the station, one of the three laser turrets lit up, sending a bright red beam at the unfortunate satelite, literaly melting it within a few seconds.

"Target destroyed, sir."

"Excellent. Say, who did that sat belong to?"

"Errr, I think that was one of ours."

Marcus blinked a few times once more.

"Oh, whatever, I'm going back to sleep. Wake me when something happens."

"Aye, sir."

Meanwhile, the station would soon pass by the Soviet Bloc station...

Johnathon who was on his routine patrols picked up a signature. It was a foreign fighter craft! Oooh, aaah. And whatnot. And things and yes. He looked at his HUD which indicated this. Also, the signature was so loud he already had him locked on his HUD. Luckily short range communication was possible. "Home, I see a signature. Do I engage? Over."

ZzzZZzzzZ "Positive. But do not use missiles! We need to find out who and what it is. We want him alive! Understood? Over."

Johnathon chuckled. "Gotcha. Over and out." And so, Johnathon flew to see what the signature was. Meanwhile....

Emilia nodded. "No, no more questions. Well if you want you can show me where you sleep."

Meanwhile in the now completed Rosian Command Center. The crew was trying to establish communications with Earth and the other stations. Pretty much make long range communication possible. Of course they've been at it for weeks, and it involved a banana, some duck tape, and KY Jelly. Though I won't tell you what the KY Jelly was for... fine I'll say. It was to grease the controls. The duck tape was to tape it back and the banana was a snack. What? Oh... you thought it was for that?! You sick perverts! I swear I cannot use any phrase from Scary Movie 2 in a nice way. Seriously.

Now as I was saying.

They tried, and now after I wasted your time with my rant the communications are up. But not so much.

ZZzzzzZZzzZ This is static by the way. "This is R-C&C to RSF-1. R-C&C to RSF-1. Do you copy, over?"

Emilia picked up the communication, it was for her, of course. "Hey! You finally got the comm working!" She said surprised as she talked through her ear radio thing... meh. "[i]So what's going on? Over."

A pause. "John's gonna engage a target. I think it'd be good if you join him. Over."

Emilia sighed. "All right Command. Over and out." She turned to Sergei. "Well... hm. I guess we'll see each other another time. Can you escort me to the docks?"

"Awww..." Sergei lowered his eyes... The rest of the men audibly grumbled but still bid the Rosian farewell... "Fine... As long as I do get to see you another time." He grinned and winked, before leading the way back to the docking module, through the passageway and across the snowy plains...

"Here we go, ma'am... Don't hesitate to have fun with yourself... And enjoy the trip. If you need an escort I'd be ecstatic to oblige..." Once more, he grinned. What she didn't know is that her entire spacecraft had been bugged by sixteen microphones, seventeen digital cameras, four remote vibrators, eight remote fart machines, and a dozen other goodies all hidden in places she would never think of checking... A new monitor had been installed in the command module solely devoted to watching everything that went on in her cockpit... Heh, cock-pit...

Military Space Observation Center, Northern Greece

It was a usual boring day for Mark. Nothing really interesting happened up in space. Maybe once in a while they will find a spy satellite which he haves to blow up. But today there was plenty of activity up there. It looked like as if a space station was being constructed over the Mediterranean Sea.

"Sir, the recent data we received from the satellites show large activity in space over the Mediterranean Sea. It looks like some nation is building a space station."

"The Emperor told me to watch out for this kind of activity. Print out the data and have them ready on my desk so I can send them to the Emperor."

"Yes Sir."

Imperial Palace, Athens, Greece

Emperor Nikolaos Onassis was as usual in his office looking over different bills being proposed by the Assembly when a knock on the door interrupted his work.

"Come in."

Mathew Giporo, a Cypriot astrologist, came in.

"Good morning Emperor." Said Mathews

"What brings you here?" asked the Nikolaos

"I have brought the information you told me to watch out for. This folder here contains data showing large activity in space above the Mediterranean Sea."

"Ah! Excellent the Rosians have started the project."

"Started what?"

"Um nothing I was thinking of something else. That is all you can leave now."

"Good bye and have a nice day."

He walked out of the office and Nikolaos looked over the data.

Encrypted Message

To: Frederick von Hattensberg of The Island of Rose
From: Emperor Nikolaos Onassis

Reports show that you have started to work on the space station you told me about a few months ago. If you need supplies, money, engineers, scientists, and man power just tell me. Also I would like to send a team of engineers to personally watch over the construction of my missile module that will soon carry you know what.

-Emperor Nikolaos Onassis
Athens, Greece

To: Emperor Nikolaos Onassis of Greece
From: Imperial President Frederick von Hattensberb of The Island of Rose

Of course. The more help the better. We already have a small patrol of two
fighter craft around the station, we are far ahead of our expected finishing
date. Do not worry yourself Emperor Nikolaos, your module will be constructed
and with this we might be able to have a little bit more influence over
Mediterranean politics.
Frederick von Hattensberg
Imperial President of The Island of Rose

Launch Pad Class Aristotle, Thessalonica, Greece

The Lamba Class shuttle was sitting up on the launch pad with two large rocks on its side to lift it up into space. The team of engineers and scientists, led by Markus Archilopeo, were boarded on the shuttle. The countdown began.

10…

9…

8…

7…

6…

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

BLAST OFF!

The two rockets roared to life and lifted off the ground with the Lamba Class shuttle. Everything was going okay. This old shuttle hasn't been launched in 15 years and the engineers where worried but everything was going smoothly. Once they where in orbit the shuttle ejected itself from the two rockets and headed to the space station it will arrived in 15 minutes.

The shuttle arrived at its destination and was getting ready to land in the civilian docking area. They already sent a message earlier to the station so no permission was needed. The shuttle landed on the docking.

The team of engineers got of the shuttle and meet up with the docking crew of the station.

"My name is Markus Archilopeo, leader of this engineer team."

OOC: oooh, this just got very interesting!

IC:

To: The Island of Rose
It is sad to hear that we will be unable to arrange a technology-sharing deal. However, we still extend an arm of help to The Island of Rose, even if one cannot be directly extended in return. Alliances mean much to Liebermonk, and we would be pleased to have one with a fellow space nation. We wish you the best of luck with the full construction of this space station and hope that you may continue with your path of growth and betterment through space.
-Queen Lerathen, Liebermonk

Orbital Weapons Platform St. Michael

"Approaching Soviet Bloc station, stand by." said the flight control guy over the radio to the lead escort pilot. As always, they'd be playing a friendly prank on their allies.

"Roger, Command, standing by for further orders. replied Colonel Marius Junius, callsign Rapier Six, the lead escort pilot for St. Michael. Marius was a seasoned pilot, flying combat missions over Sovieten in the old F/A-25 Hound air superiority fighter, actualy managing to grab the title of "ace" in just one sortie against Halladi MiGs. Right after that, he'd been forcably transferred to the Space Legion where he switched over to flying the F-121 Hellspawn, which was very similar in electronics and avionics to the F78, or so he'd been told by his friends on Earth.

He was a cynical old man, yet had a good sense of humor. Well, at least what a Doomingslander would call a sense of humor.

"OK, you are cleared for your run. God speed, Rapier Six."

"Roger, Command, begining run." replied Marius through his communications system, actualy just some electric pulses coming out of his head. Marius engaged his thrusters, heading straight for the command modual's window. He could see from where he was sitting the men inside were quite nervous, and attempted to raise him on com. He ignored, but continued to streak over. Finnaly, when he was less that fifty feet away, he snapped a salute to the Soviets, kicked on his retro rockets, spinning him completely around, and engaged his thrusters. This maneuver caused him to pull a ton of g's, but he came out OK, none the less, heading back home.

One of the astronaut contructer people watched the shuttle as it boarded and whatnot.

The loading dock was pretty big for its job. Not really. The loading dock was not designed to hold ships. Instead it was designed to load... things. It was basically the nexus for the entire station. It held supplies and offloaded things... and uploaded things. I would show you a map, but it's too big for Imageshack, so fuck them. I'm not going to resize the damn thing! Bastards. As the engineer was inside the docks, a man in a red officer's uniform approached him. All he had was a Colt .45 as a weapon. "Ah you must be the Greeks who's come to observe construction. I'll escort you the Command Center."

The officer started walking straight, escorting the Greeks towards the Command Center. Then, they were there.

There a many monitors, for now used to monitor the construction of the station. There were thirty people manning it, or around. They were doing their specific jobs and whatnot. But I think the number will change, who knows. Maybe to fifty... hm. Who knows. Anywho, the officer showed them towards the main part of the Command Center... the big monitor place thing. He led them there, of course. Then he left! Leaving the Greeks with the Operationer person of the Station.

"Ah. You must be the Greeks." The person leader thingy shook their hands. "My name is Mediterranean Operational Officer Jose Martinez, I am in charge of Rosian Space Operations in the Med. If you wish to oversee the contruction of the modules. This is the best place. Any questions?" Yes I feel lazy today.

"Dammit, Sergei better get that Rosian back into her fighter, say, Mischa, did you bug her suit?" spoke one of the crew.

Mischa thought for a second before recalling, "Uhh... Yeah, yeah... I got the mic, the four cameras, and the remote vibrator installed in the crotch... Heh... Yes."

"Good... How about th-" He was cut off by a very annoying warning sound... "Dammit, Evgeniy, I thought I told you to shut off all the alarms?! Go and shut it off, its probably the life support system again... Little whiny bitch of a life support system if you ask me... Oh, 'low oxygen this,' oh 'electrolysis system failure' that... I wish it would shut up." He growled before returning his attention to the monitor. Evgeniy quickly floated into the command module to face a large monitor which displayed what was perceived as an enemy attack on the station... He eyed it before turning his head and shouting back to the colonel...

"Hey, colonel, the damn thing says we're under attack!" He could hear the entire module burst into laughter, the red-faced colonel floated out... He was laughing so hard he was slowly spinning off until he hit one of the cross member supports on the end of the module...

"That was funnier than hell... Now it says we're under attack?" He laughed some more... "Right... The thing's crazy, first it says critical solar panel malfunction, then electrolysis unit failed, no oxygen, now what? Under attack by space aliens... My ass, someone needs to take that computer out back and shoot it... " He started laughing while the rest of the module also erupted in laughter, with one of the other pilots volunteering to kill the computer. "I say ignore it, it whines too much..."

Evgeniy grinned, "Will do, sir, I always liked your train of thought... Hey! I get to run the vibrator controls!" He quickly peeled back towards the module with the rest of the crew, after he had hit the computer emergency shut down system. The colonel let himself float there, laughing, before he righted himself with the aide of bar... His still laughing face slowly glanced out the large station survey window... He stopped, dead.

"What in the fuck?!" He trained his eyes, then they flew wide open... "SHIT! EVGENIY! MISCHA! GET THE FUCK IN HERE!" He could only hear laughter, "I'M FUCKING SERIOUS! ALIENS!" That made the crew laugh even more before a near unconscious Mikhail drifted out..

"What is it, sir?" He was laughing in between each word. The colonel simply pointed outside the window. Mikhail drifted closer and glanced out, his jaw dropped, "You weren't shitting me!" He ripped his head towards the computer, "What the hell?! Shouldn't the automated defenses be engaging it right now?! WHAT THE FUCK?! WHO TURNED OFF THE DAMN COMPUTER!?" He pushed himself off the module wall and slammed into the computer, he hit the start button and the machine whirred to life... A screen came on, Unfortunately, do to the abrupt termination of the computing sequence, all data has been lost and must be restored. Please locate the RESTORE CD and place it in CD DRIVE A1. Thank you. This message brought to you by the 'Advisory Council on Budget Restraints Concerning Spacecraft and Stations' in accordance with the Soviet Bloc Ministry of Defense and Article XI of Resolution 810A in Section K of the Ministry of Defense's Operational Handbook. Mikhail jerked his head back, "FUCK!"

He whipped around, "COLONEL! Where's the restore CD?!"

The colonel peeled his face from the window, "Uhh... I think we flung it out the airlock that one day when... We smuggled some vodka aboard and... Uh... We were having target practice with one of the SoyuzA3s? Fun..." He stopped, "Oh shit..."

Mikhail slammed his head into the bulkhead and knocked himself backwards, "DAMMIT! Try to hail him!"

The colonel raised an eyebrow, "Who's in command here?"

Mikhail sighed and said in a humiliated voice, "You are..."

"Damn right, now try to hail the bastard!"

Mikhail grumbled and quickly donned a radio headset, "Unidentified spacecraft, please change vector standard vertical 40 degrees, standard starboard 20 degrees, or standard port 60 degrees to avoid hitting this station. I repeat, you are on a collision course with ARSB Regional Command Station Alpha-Victor-One-Niner, we in geo-synchrous orbit over the Mediterranean Sea. Unidentified spacecraft, you have ten seconds to comply before automated defenses open fire." He was bluffing... Ten seconds later the spacecraft was now closer than ever... "FUCK! Colonel, I say, GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS MODULE!" Mikhail quickly executed an about face and propelled himself from the module wall and nearly collided with the large map screen. His eyes scanned the map before he stopped, silently repeating to himself, "Doomingsland St. Michael Station. St. Michael Station... Its the only station within fighter range... COLONEL! Its not an alien, its a Doomingsland joker!"

The colonel breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the spacecraft continue towards them before the pilot snapped a salute... The colonel grinned and flicked the Doomingsland pilot off. He laughed, "Little bastards, I swear, I almost shit in my pants..."

"Well, for fuck's sake, you were glued to the window like a deer in the headlights of a semi." He laughed... The rest of the crew had no idea on what had just occured, they were laughing amongst themselves as they tested out the remove vibrator, strobe lights, and fart machine placed in the Rosian's cockpit... Heh... Cockpit.

Marius opened a channel just so the Soviets could hear him laughing his ass off, and laugh he did, along with everyone on the St. Michael.

He approached the station, entering the docking sequence. The fighter slowly kicked on its retro rockets, putting the boarding tube right on top of the cockpit canopy. He slid open the canopy, and scaled up the ladder, into the docking modual, where he exchanged high fives with his men. On the outside, maintenence crew began refueling the bird and making any nessescary repairs before it headed back on patrol.

The fighter was truley a marvel of Doomingslandian engineering (although a good portion of the technology was, ironically, developed with Soviet Bloc), with its direct neural interface and twin 30mm rocket cannons. Marius' particular bird had the St. Michael's insignia (an angel impaling a devil with a sword) on either wing, with the Doomingsland flag painted right behind the cockpit. The Space Legion didn't yet have a logo, although it had been around for the better part of fifty years. Lazy artists....

As Emilia started to put on her suit she noticed a weird thing in the lower hip area of her suit. After feeling around she noticed... it was a vibrator, so she removed that. Then she noticed some weird things bumping around in her suit, she took it off. She searched her suit, finding the hidden cameras.

She raised her brow. "Hmmm...."

Emilia walked towards her fighter. She noticed something wasn't quite right, but I think the farting and vibrating noises indicated that. She ran a scan on her ship, which she did by merely pressing a button. A few seconds later indicated that there were fart machines, vibrators, and cameras. She twitched. "Wait... this is Soviet technology! iEsos hijos de putas! They're gonna die today!" She reached her glove compartment, and out came an RSMG-1A... that held sixty-five .45 ACP rounds. Oh boy. She pressed another button, that allowed the ship to disable any foreign technology inside, at a cost of speed and power and whatnot.

As she put on her astronaut suit, she reached for her RSMG-1A. She walked back towards the Command Center, already knowing where it was. She opened the doors, smirking as she saw the poor bastards laugh. "Hey boys!" She shouted. "You just got punked!" She started firing at all the monitors, breaking the glass of each one of them. Then she fired at anything else she could fire at, like computer consoles and whatnot. After a minute she was out of ammo. She flicked the bird and said. "Bye you bastards! Don't mess with a Rosian girl!"

And so she skipped merrily back to her ship, powered it up, and flew back towards the Rosian Space Station... tada!

"Oh fuck! She noticed them! Dammit, she tore the vibrator out!" shouted Alexei. He swiveled to face a monitor, "And the cameras!" He started laughing, "Heh, I wonder what she thought of it..."

They erupted into laughter, especially after hearing the Doomingsland space crew laughing as well, oh hell, it was a happy day in space... Until someone waltzed into the command module. Mikhail swiveled around, "Who the hell?! Its the Rosian! AND SHE'S GOT A GUN!" In unison, the entire crew went "OH FUCK!" Bodies flew everywhere as they ducked behind computers and bulkheads... Mikhail put two and two together and got: Hmm... Gun... She's wearing a space suit... We're in space... We don't have space suits... And... There's only a thin layer of metal seperating us from having our blood boiled... He thought a second, Wait, we're fucked! That's when she opened fire...

And completely ruined their day... After the carnage was done, over thirty one monitors had perished in a blaze of glory along with life support, which they had beat with an axe anyways, automated weapons system, and that dastardly computer which made fun of them frequently. Mikhail peeked over the computer he had hidden behind and wondered how the hell she could fire off so many shots and not get blown back to the docking module, there being no gravity and all. His eyes met a clouded and hazy command module, a few sparking... And then a hot brass shell hit him in the forhead and he tumbled backwards, "IT BURNS!" Now the command module was filled with floating shards of glass, metal, and hot casings. "What a bitch!" He stopped for a second, "DAMN SHE'S NICE! Why the hell do we not have women like that back home?!"

"Damn right, Mischa, why not? Let's abduct her and... begin spawning a master race here in space... Hey, do babies mutate when they're born in space? If they do, we could even have demon children..."

Someone behind him shouted, "Kick ass!"

"Yeah, and lets breed them to destroy..." He nodded his head... "Wait, someone, get her!"

Three of the crew quickly propelled themselves down the module and towards the docking area... En route, all three grabbed their specialized SR-95S assault rifles specialized to fire non-lethal ammunition. These rifles were fitted with clay slugs encased in plastic. They quickly barreled down the connecting area and into the docking area only to watch as the Rosian calmly flew away... The three quickly muttered, "Shit..."

The three returned to the station with Evgeniy reporting that the Rosian had escaped... The colonel quickly piped out, "Well, fuck, the bitch took out every monitor and computer. We have no communications, no weapons systems, no life support, well except the manual stuff... And, uhh, yeah, our controlled burn computers, which means that our thrusters aren't keeping us in a stabilized position to receive power, which means eventually we'll lose all power since the station can't maneuver itself to continually receive power and we'll eventually plummet into the atmosphere..."

The six others cocked an eyebrow, Mikhail spoke up, "What the hell?! You mean this twenty-something hot, young... beautiful... Err... Rosian, just took out an ARSB space station along with our defense network over the Mediterranean?!" The colonel solemnly nodded, Mikhail continued, "Well shit, why don't we get some of them?! Hell, we could take out every space station in existence... Hey! We got pictures of her on our surveillance system! And that's on a whole different module!"

The rest of the crew cheered... Thanks to the Rosian, they couldn't leave the station, they had no computers, no weaponry, no detection, no communications, nothing... Except surveillance video of her... Wait, how the hell can someone skip in space?

Aboard the St. Michael

"Sir! We've lost contact with the Soviet station!"

"What?" replied the watch officer, finnaly stopping laughing. "What happened?"

"Well, sir, their com systems have apparently failed. Wait, detecting a fighter launch out of the station...hey, that's a Rosian craft!"

"Rosians? They have an army?!?! Good God, man, what is the world coming to!?" exclaimed the officer, staring out the window as the fighter streaked by. "Well, we have no reason to blow them up, but let's at least try to render assistance to the Soviets. Scramble a an away team to one of the pods ASAP."

"Aye, sir."

Of course, our old pal Command Marcus slept through the entire ordeal, which is why they managed to get something done...

Meanwhile, two armed marines in their sleek armored space suits accompanied by a medic and an engineer stepped onto a boarding pod, and shot off towards the Soviet station, hoping to repair their communications and fix up any casualties.

(OOC: Hm, apparently the big giants tanks around the Forts don't say that the Rosians have an army XD)

Markus looked around the command center with astonishment. The Rosians sure did know how to make command centers.

"Awesome command center you got here. I got a few questions. Does my team and I have full security clearance on this station? We are allies so you can trust us. Has the construction of the missiles modules started? And do you plan on building or already have a emergency evacuation module? Because you never know when the nukes where bringing up here might start leaking or just blow up."

Jose chuckled. "Thank you for the compliment."

He cleared his throat. "Now to answer the question. I cannot say if you have full security clearance, the Rosian Administration still hasn't alerted me to that. The construction of the missile modules began a month ago, so they should be finished in two or three months. And as for your third question, not exactly. If a leak were to occur, the modules would eject from the station and would fly to unknown space until they explode or something else. It works on the simulations but we don't know if it works for real."

He raised his brow. "Anything else?"

"Anyways the Emperor ordered us to get full security clearance and you don't want to see the Emperor get angry. So now that we got full security clearance I guess we can work on the missiles modules and test that ejection system you have on them. So which way is to the missile modules?"

Jose shook his head. "You can't really enter the missile modules. The missiles are being inserted inside the module. All it is is a big box of missiles that are controlled from the Command Center. Of course you can see the entire module from here and control it."

He cleared his throat. "Also, the ejection system is not ready. So we cannot grant that request."

Tag

"What do you mean I can enter the missile modules? How are you post to check if everything is working properly inside the missile module if you can enter? Where going to have to fix that you know. That will probably delay the completion of the station for a few more weeks."

"You know, Serj, this royally sucks... We can't be in the command module because the entire damn thing is filled with shards of glass and debris, not to mention they pierced the wall. We're lucky that your boot managed to plug the leak..." Mikhail shook his head... "We're fucking stranded... In the damn storage module."

Sergei laughed, "Well, at least we have all the food and supplies, and look at where the Colonel is, he's stuck in the connecting module, now that has to suck ass."

"Heh, you're right... I wonder how long it'll take for Command to realize they lost a station..."

"I dunno, remember what happened last time?"

"Ohh, the colonel incident..." He laughed, "Yeah, when he accidentally jettisoned the solar array module and left us without power. Command never noticed?"

The two laughed before Sergei spoke, "Yeah and the only way we could get Command's attention was by jettisoning the docking module so it would burn up in the atmosphere over the country..." The two laughed some more... "Awww, shit... Good times..."




Meanwhile, back at Soviet Bloc Space Command, rural District I....


"Fuck! Where'd he go?!" shouted a man, hidden behind a bank of monitors...

A man nearby answered, "No fuckin' idea, I think he's in the restroom..." A blast of rapid compressed air shots rang overhead and the two turned to face a broken monitor, splattered with red paint... "Shit! They saw us... Let's go!" Both of them shot up and opened fire with their paintball rifles, a line of green and yellow paint along the far wall, a few hitting some computers. From behind them, shots rang out and the first man tumbled over a computer desk... "I've been hit!"

The second man ducked behind a computer which was quickly repainted red, he popped over and ripped the assailant with paintballs, tumbling him over a desk and knocking the monitor on the floor... Suddenly, large doors flung open and shouting filled the massive command center. In poured dozens of workers, outfitted in paintball gear and with rifles blazing, bodies tumbled over desks and rolled down stairs... Monitors were covered in paint and desks were disheveled.

An alarm rang out, and a yell erupted, "Dammit! Who didn't turn the alarms off?! I thought this was supposed to be an uninterrupted game!"

"Hey, don't look at me! I shut everything off!"

"Shit, its those retards over the Mediterranean again, don't they do this every week?!"

"Yeah... If its serious they'll do what they did last time..."

"Oh, that's right... Jettison something again..."

A few shots rang out.

"What the fuck!? We're on pause you dumbshit, you just shot me!"

"Dumbass, who said time out?"

A dozen shots erupted.

"What the hell?! Why'd you shoot me?"

"You said it yourself, no one said time out..."

"Why, you little bastard..."

A scuffle is heard as one man leaps from the railing above onto the man below... A couple dozen shots are heard...

"Fucking hell! You shot in me in the damn balls!"

"You shot me in the damn face, you fuck-head."

"Well if you weren't grabbing my ass..."

"I wasn't grabbing your ass, you're the one who shoved your ass in my face."

"Oh fuck you.."

"Oh fuck you..."

"Dipshit."

The rest of the room quickly shouted, "BOTH OF YOU, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Meanwhile, the boarding pod had managed to successfully dock with the station. The men entered an airlock, not knowing what to expect. The two marines cocked their M85 SMGs and checked their sensors before stepping through the door. They all had black space suits with scary-looking tinted helmets, as is customary with evil people like themselves. They quietly swept through the docking modual before heading further into the station. They could here talking up ahead, and quietly approached.

The lead man kicked down the door into the room while the others poured in, completely cofusing the hell out of the Soviets.

"Errr, hello..." said the groups commander.

Somewhere in Earth orbit...

"This is Dragon 1, activating target acquisition system.... aww shit! Bandit!! Bandit!! Bandit!!, I have a fast mover on my six, taking evasive action, requesting weapons free" the pilot's voice came excitedly over the radio.
"Roger that Dragon 1, All weapons free, you are clear to engage at your discretion" The mission commander calmly replied.

The SF-24 Phalanx executed an ugly maneuver which could only be described as a somersault, bringing the forward weapons ports to bear upon the enemy spacecraft.
The gap between the two spacecraft closed at an alarming rate, he was already too close to fire missiles, flipped the switch to start spinning his gun barrel and activated his electronic countermeasures. He waited to see if the spacecraft would break off, it was a high stakes game of chicken, but if they got to close or opened fire he would be ready to let loose a storm of metal into the nose of his pursuers

The Rosian pilot raised his brow. He muttered to himself. "Ah, he wants to play chicken hm?"

Now you see. When I said that these Rosian Space Pilots were insane. They aren't stereo-typical Top Gun insane, no. These guys are need to go to an asylum, will eat a man un-cooked, likes Michael Jackson music, can walk with their hands, willing to destroy an entire city for one toy crazy. These guys were just crazy, they're bring a knife to a gunfight crazy. Let's continue.

The Rosian pilot turned on his ramjet capabilities. "All right... let's go then hm?" He simply said over the radio. He activitated his gatling gun, shooting at his left wing. This of course would cause it to break because of the sheer speed of the wing and bullets meeting and whatnot. The bad thing was that he was about to collide his left wing with the enemy's right wing. Disabling both of the ships. "Ooooh man! I can't slow it down!"

The shuttle crashed into the Phoenix's ship. Now his wing was floating in space but he didn't know of the other guy's fate. Of course now the shuttle was just floating... "Oh this sucks! Command I'm royally screwed over! Command? Oh fuck radio's down too! At least the beacon should start working."

And it did. But I won't post until Mr. TPM posts. So it's his fault!

And it did. But I won't post until Mr. TPM posts. So it's his fault![/QUOTE]

spinnings out of control The pilot tried frantically to stabilize the spacecraft and was just barely able to keep it from nose diving into the Earth's atmosphere. Alot of the LCD screens were out, and he could see there was a crack in the cockpit. He felt for his microphone switch..
"Dragon 1 to command, come in command?" no response
A few displays were still working so he looked them over: Master Alarm, No fuel, Radar Not responding blah blah .....major oxygen leak oh shit" he pulled out what looked like a toothpaste tube and smeared it over the cracked cockpit, sealing the leak. Luckily he had his pressure suit on or his lungs would have burst.
He re-routed the damage assessment readout through to one of the working screens. Along with the radar array, the long range antenna was sheered off in the colision. The pilot activated his LOS/UHF (line of sight, ultra high frequency) radio and sent out a communication.
"Dragon 1 to Dark Phoenix, come in Dark Phoenix" the pilot radioed to the nearby station, hoping his antenna was functional.
"Dark Phoenix to Dragon 1 we are reading you, what the hell happened we tracked what looked like a collision, are you alright?" the station commander responded
"Does it look like I'm alright!?! That crazy motherfucker rammed me! I'm leaking shit out the whole right side of my fuselage, my nose took a hit and I can see shit floating all around me, I have no weapons control no guidance no fuel im fuckin...."
"Calm down Dragon 1, we'll get you back safe don't worry, what about the ship that hit you?"
From what I can see from here they are missing a big piece, they don't seem to be moving in any controlled manner..."
"Standby, conserve oxygen, do not attempt a re-entry, you will probably burn up

OOC: just FYI, ramjets don't work in space and my fighter doesn't really have wings so you scraped/smashed the nose and right side of the fuselage And I didn't open fire unless you did first ;)

(OOC: Well you know what I mean...! I went really really fast! Logic has no place in my mind. Oh and I hope this post is to your STANDARDS!)

The Station did indeed pick up the signal, another shuttle fighter arrived to escort the now immobile fighter to his station. "Damn man what the hell happened?"

The Rosian pilot chuckled over the radio. "He wanted to play chicken, I merely followed the rules."

The other pilot rolled his eyes. Though I think telling you this is a waste of time. But I must tell you that he was... well I forgot the word. So let's continue. "Yah yah. I'll probably have to drag him too. Let's see..." A wire suddenly shot out of the back of the shuttle fighter. He maneuvered himself towards his disabled comrade. A few maneuvers and bam! Now he was connected to his fallen comrade via wire thanks to basic magnetic science! Woot! Now to connect the second fighter. Yet another wire came out, connecting him to the Phoenix fighter! CONNECTION! Woot! Magic!

And so he flew both fighters (at a slow speed of course) towards the station so that they may dock peacefully. And after a few careful maneuvers he docked both fighters at the military docking module. Then he flew away! Note docking module as in the cockpit is connected to the station while the rest of the ship is in space.

The pilot stepped out of his very damaged craft. He took off his suit, climbed down and stretched. "Oy... Command's not gonna be happy..."

A Common Love Story

Vieger Smoskt looked at the panel in front of him, his eyes blank as his mind rolled in deep thought. He turned his head to look at his partner, Ms. Daniella Giersch, and then looked back at the panel. In his mind he began to toil over the seperate thoughts which so plagued his highly advanced and genius mind. Wow she's ugly. I'd still hit it though. I wonder if anybody would find out if I banged her in space. If nobody finds out nobody will know. But if my buds found out they'd never shut up about it...but I haven't had sexual intercourse for three weeks..this is a hard one...I'll have a couple of days to think about it in space.

Indeed he would. He was sitting verticly in a Macabee space rocket! Everything hit him just then. He looked as Daniella again and blurted,"I'm not a rocket man! I'm a college student!" But before he could finish that one woman who was infamous for counting down the time for launch finished her countdown and flames enshrouded the rocket and before Smoskt could turn his head he was shooting straight for the heavens...har har shooting straight for the heavens, excuse the sexual pun.

In any case, there he was, rocket cutting large swaths through the atmosphere and then as if it was magic he entered space... he looked out the window in front of him, which magically appeared because the creator of the RP had forgotten that space ships had those, and saw the stars in front of him...he looked over to Ms. Daniella again but before he could comment on the stars he stumbled out a,"Blargh...you just get uglier and uglier...I think the sheer speed we were going at took off all that make up you put on. Wow, put it back on."

She turned her head and tears were strolling down here cheeks. She silently muttered,"Men are so mean to me."

He began to feel sorry and blurted,"Well, if it means anything, I would have sex with you."

Everything went silent and he went on to say,"Haha..uh..hahaha...*cough*..just kidding?"

The rest of the trip through space went kind of silent but then a humongous space station appeared out of nowhere and Vieger screamed at the top of his lungs,"WTF IS THAT!"

Daniella slapped him silly and Vieger shut up and then Daniella started to make love to him *screened*

The random story could have continued but unfortunately, for the both of them, they ran out of hydrogen supply and a big fat red light began to beep and a naked Vieger knew that the only hope to survive was to dock at that space station. The space shuttle had no communication means so without any consideration for his own life, only thinking about his beloved Daniella and her ugly face and the fact that he was making love to that ugly face, he ran to the compartment that opens and lets the astronaut loose and jumped into space screaming,"Someone save me! I just made love to a horse!"

Too bad noise doesn't travel through space...or someone would have heard him..but then he exploded and the fragments of his body were dispersed to the four corners of Einsten's universe... some of them hit the space shuttle and Daniella closed the compartment and walked to the room and picked up Vieger's remains. She said with an evil tone,"Muahaha..you foolish foolish man." She proceeded to eat him... then she docked randomly at that space station, naked...yea...wow.

Dear President of The Island of Rose,
Whom we would not have voted for given the option,
Man with the horrifically German name;

Our Dhoom is still bigger than your Doom.

Sincerely,
The Guy Who Would Have Voted for Sergei,
Sexier than you via Teen Mag',
The Rosian Nation's Lovah-Max,
Even though we're related in some offhand way,
That's going to be a mess in the Media tomorrow,
And Dhoom'esque Chancellor,

Till Marx

Dear: Till Marx
Who's too stereotypical to begin with,
Man with the horrifically communist name,

The Island of Rose challanges you to a duel of the dooms. May the better
doom win.

Sincerely,
The Guy who would've won anyway,
Sexier then you via electoral vote,
The Fodian Nation's Lovah-Max,
We are actually related,
The media mess has already spun out of control,
and Imperial President of The Island of Rose,

Frederick von Hattensberg

Meanwhile

Alarms started going out in the Command Center. It was an unexpected landing, of course. They didn't know whether it was a boarding party or it was an emergency. And unfortunately the missile satellites weren't exactly working yet so now they had to go on their gut. So I might as well introduce the Rosian Space Assualt Force! Or RSAF! Eh...

The Rosian Space Assualt Force is issued two weapons. For station operations they are given the RAR-9C, a Carbine Assualt Rifle. Because a full one would be stupid. Of course they have real bullets, but that's because the station is protected by a good layer of metal that doesn't let bullets penetrate, so errr... yeah. The second being the Guass Rifles, provided by the Resi Corporations, buy from them! They were modified to hold ten 15mm rounds. They are used in space due to the fact of low to no recoil, so w00t.

Anyway, soldiers inside the station grabbed their RAR-9Cs and started to approach the shuttle. Note only the door was connected to the station, the rest of the shuttle is outside. They forced open the door and then they saw...

... an ugly naked woman! Men were sick with disgust but the women rushed in and dragged the passengers out. After dragging them to the floor they pointed their guns at them and proclaimed...! "Freeze! What country do you represent and why are you here!? And put some damn clothes on!"

Dear Mister Fancy Pants With Many Sylables Within His Name,
Thou who shalt be Dhoom-edd upon severely,
Master of the German futility,

We accept!

Sincerely,
The One With A better name Than You Either Way,
Writer of extremely monotonous letter openings,
As well as closings,
All around Socio-Inverta-Economio-Payroll-Financialist,
Still sexier than you,

Till Marx

The pilot looked out his wondow and saw the Rosain craft launch some type of tether and then to his suprise, his ship began to move..
"Shit... this is Dragon iI am being.... towed!! by a second space craft..... comm system is being affected.. I don't know how long I can....." he yelled over the radio just before the antenna was obscured by the other ships, now there was only static.
He watched as his spacecraft was towed closer to a space station, which must have been nearby since they had not traveled long. As he felt the mechanical thunk of what could only be docking clamps, he drew his sidearm and chambered a round, there was no telling what would be on the other side.
The Phalanx's systems, although damaged were still able to tell him that there was a pressurized, oxygen environment on the other side, so he opened the airlock and crawled into the station. He started banging on the door, not really thinking that it would do anything. After several minutes had passed, he became uncomfortable in his suit, so he removed his helmet... a mistake he would soon regret.
Only a few moments after he had set his helmet down, a gush of air knocked him to the floor, and within seconds the airlock was devoid of oxygen. He frantically struggled to get his helmet back on, but he was unable to make the air hose attachments in time and he passed out from lack of oxygen...

When Major James Bowers awoke hours later, all he could see was a light in his face, and he couldn't move his arms or legs... he struggled to focus... a voice was speaking to him... as he regained conciousness, he started to make sense of the words.

The interrogation room was a dingy place. Stereotypical dark room surrounded by glass with one lamp hanging, unfortunately it was a makeshift one since it was in the storage room apparently. Note to self, install interrogation module.

Operational Officer JohnathonCraft was trying to wake him up. He shaked him a bit. "Hey, wake up." The prisoner of course was tied to a chair... and there was a little bulb over his head. Standard interrogation thing.

Major James Bowers replied. "Who the hell are you?"

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft smirked. "I am Operational Officer Johnathon Craft. I head Station 2 of the Imperial Space Grid. And you are under interrogation. Let's make this nice and easy. Rank, name, serial number, and country. Now."

Major James Bowers cracked his neck and recited calmly: "Major Bowers, James, 148-5531, Phoenix Milita Space Corps."

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft raised his brow. "The Phoenix Milita eh? The bastards are always coming with something new." He chuckled. "What is the designation of the ship you were flying?"

Major James Bowers closed his eyes, smiled and said: "The USS GO FUCK YOURSELF."

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft smirked. "Ah... you want to play hardball. I'll simply ask again, what's the designation of the ship you were flying?"

Major James Bowers's expression went blank. "I am not authorized to divulge that information."

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft sighs. "Well it's either that or your ass gets numb by sitting on that chair for days. Now tell me, what's the designation?"

Major James Bowers didn't flinch: "What does it matter, tell me why you attacked my spacecraft and maybe I'll tell you what I call it."

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft scoffed. "Simple. You were being aggressive and our pilot simply responded. Of course our pilots are a bit off kilter, but that's besides the point. Can I know the designation now?"

Major James Bowers raised an eyebrow. "I was being agressive? Bullshit I was only protecting my nation's assets. What were you doing? Huh?"

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft chuckled. "That satellite was merely drifting. You may have noticed that this station is still under construction, so for now we can't keep track of everything. Therefore we were protecting our assets. I think I answered your question, now the designation please?"

Major James Bowers said sternly: "No, it's classified, I don't even know what government you are working for."

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft sighed. "Okay..." He leaves the room with him alone with the chair. Of course he's still being watched. A flick of a switch and all of a sudden a FREAKISHLY HIGH PITCHED SOUND, you know the kind that gives you a headache and is very very annoying? Well yeah, and unfornately his hands are tied.

Major James Bowers screamed at the top of his lungs, he felt his eardrums reverberate with the awful sound.

* Operational Officer Johnathon Craft left it on for a few minutes, the he turned it off. He entered the room again, smiling. He shouted. "What's the designation of your ship!?"

Major James Bowers shook his head and then softly said "Whats that? I.. I.. can't hear you!" trying to keep a straight faced as he lied to the man.

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft took out his Colt .45 and shot James on the leg, of course he didn't shoot an artery. He needs him alive! "I know damn well you can hear me! Tell me the name of the ship!"

Major James Bowers shouted: "MOTHER FUCKER You Fucking shot me! I am going to KILL you!!"

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft chuckled. "You're in no position to negotiate James, tell me the name of the ship." He took a shot to his other leg, missing on purpose.

Major James Bowers yangrily responded: "Alright Alright just shut the fuck up, its called the SF-101 Phantom Four are you happy now asshole?"

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft put his Colt .45 back in his holster. "See how easy that was? I represent the Island of Rose by the way, just so you know. Next question, what is the name of the station or base that sent you?"

Major James Bowers quickly blurted out "Mars."

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft raised his brow. "Scans say you didn't arrive from Mars."

Major James Bowers: "Okay you got me, I really came from Neptune."

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft chuckled. "Scans say you didn't arrive from Neptune either. Now tell me the truth, this is your last chance."

Major James Bowers spit at the Officer's face and snarled. "Your scans must be broken, dick!"

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft yawned and left the room. He flicked another switch, this time a boxing fist appeared right in front of James. You know the kind you see in cartoons? It came from the by the way. It charged all of a sudden and it started punching James in the err... family jewels, gonads, Sam and Bam, the twins. You know. Aka it's very painful!

Major James Bowers cried out, half in pain and half laughing at the device, he started to cough from the blows and began to curse at the glove.

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft after five minutes of the glove, it deactivated. John entered the room, took out his Colt .45 and fired a shot at his foot, hitting of course. "Tell me again, where did you come from?"

Major James Bowers looked at the officer, his face swollen he could only mumble "I... come.. from.. The.... Phoenix Milita!!"

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft grabbed his shoulders. "But from what base?!"

Major James Bowers took a deep breath "I... I... Don't remember all those bases, they all look alike anyways."

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft pointed the gun at Jame's err... twins. "If you value your twins you'll tell me the name of your base and where it's located!"

Major James Bowers 's face showed his fear, but he kept his wits about him and responded "Alright you fucking psycho, I launched from Kennedy Air Force Base, Florida now put that away before you hurt yourself."

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft raised his brow. "Hmm... and you still lie." He put his Colt .45 away. "We saw you coming from the southwest. Either way, interrogating you is an excercise in futility. I assume you want to go back home?"

Major James Bowers forced a smile, and said "I see you finnaly realize that if you don't return me my government will send shit storm your way, i got a transmission out before you nabbed me...."

Operational Officer Johnathon Craft yawned. "Nah. I'm sure your Government is more diplomatic then that. Come on, you're going home via capsule." And so his ship was repaired, he was sent home, and weeks of politicking later: All was well. Thus ends THE POST!

As the door opened and those Rosian soldiers staring with their guns pointed at the young, but butt ugly, Daniella thought quickly. She was used to thinking quickly. Not the pretty one she soon turned book smart, and so, she made her choice. She began shaking her chest violently but the men just looked more disgusted so he immediately stopped and ran back into the space ship and shut the steel doors...shut... yea, well they were freakin' shut alright!

Well anyways she dressed up..quite well at that. Indeed, with all the make up on and the nice short skirt, which barely covered her rear end, she looked like a super model! The men's private parts would grow faster than a twelve year old boy eating Cheerios. She opened the door and gracefully began to step out, lollypop swinging in her lips, which were dark red with her sexy lipstick. Her legs were beautiful and her waist was thin, although the curves were obvious. Her package were probably 36Cs but that was beyond the point. She was just hot.

And so she opened the door, all the men staring at her and she said,"Hey boys."

So the stations were built, George O' Hannon finally died, the woman is happily married, and the man is alone.

http://img106.exs.cx/img106/5140/rspace5yz.gif

THE END.

It's over!