NationStates Jolt Archive

Republican Space Vessel Centurion
In Geosynchronous Orbit by Republican Space Station Praetonia

After years of work, years of long, painful and often brutal work, the Centurion was at last ready to be launched. Built literally piece by piece in the space station and on the ground and then brought up by civilian and military shuttlecraft, the Centurion was now ready, docked to the Praetonia by several docking clamps and long, flexible tubes through which suited astronauts and engineers floated, looking for all the world like umbilical cords connecting the mother to her brood.

Stretching more than two hundred and fifty metres in length and more than ninety feet in height, the Centurion towered over both the station and the two shuttlecraft that were manouvering around it, searchlights flickering over its broken surface to ensure there were no problems on the hull. She was a predator, designed solely for war and its principles, and this was reflected in her heavy armour, the large number of weapons and the seemingly crude appearance of her; aesthetics had no place in combat. The crew had boarded her several days ago, checking her over, installing vital and not-so-vital equipment, and generally settling in.

Now, onboard the Bridge of the Centurion, the crew took their places at their stations, and awaited the arrival of the Captain. After several minutes, the door at the rear of the Bridge slid open, revealing a tall figure, clad in the black and grey one-piece uniform of the RSF. Two Eagles, one on each shoulder, denoted his rank as Captain of the vessel, and he had a confident stride as he walked over to the Command Chair. He had short, flaxen hair and a friendly, relaxed air about him that fit in with the crumpled look of the uniform and the bemused smile had had on his face, which had several oil streaks on it. The oil had fortunately missed his namebadge, which read, Olliver.

Captain Stuart Olliver sat down in the chair, and then frowned, shifting from side to side as he tried to get comfortable; after ten seconds or so, he gave up and simply placed all his weight on the chair, hoping that sheer weight would solve the problem. Olliver looked around the Bridge, taking in the dull, burnished metal and grey paint that was still sticky in places; it looked rough in places, but he liked it that way, it gave the ship a...personality. Yes, that seemed about right, a personality of sorts. He smiled lopsidedly and faced the Helm. "Helm, detach the docking clamps and passages from the station." he said, pride in his voice at his first command.

The Helmsman, a short brunette called Rowland, nodded once and operated her panel. A series of loud bangs and clicks could be heard even through the thick armour; suddenly the ship was free, under her own power at last. Olliver suppressed another smile. "Helm, two-thirds power, aft thusters full, port thusters half power, starboard thrusters half-power. Take us out." Rowland nodded, and at the same time turned on the large plasma screen at the front of the Bridge, turning on the forward cameras to give a view of the front of the vessel. The front of the ship sprang into view, the Station to the right, empty space to the left of her. The engines roared, and slowly, ever so slowly, the Centurion moved out, moving to the left and away from the station...for about ten seconds. Suddenly there came an almighty jolt, and the station swam into view again as the ship turned violently to starboard. Olliver jumped out of the seat, and moved to the Helm. The starboard side thrusters had failed, leaving the port ones to continue pushing the vessel towards one of the stations arm. Rowland worked furiously at the board, and the arm came into view, slowly, but moving all the same. The alarm system began warbling its high-pitched shriek as the arm drifted closer, and closer...

Ten Metres...

Five Metres...

Three Metres...

Finally, with a little cry, Rowland punched a button, and the starboard thrusters came online, pushing the Centurion away from the station just in time, scraping several layers of paint away from the extended arm whilst doing this. Olliver wiped his brow, brushing away the sweat that had gathered there, and saw the rest of the crew do the same, relaxing a little. Obviously the ship still had a few...bugs to iron out on its maiden voyage. He sat back down, and began fiddling with the blasted seat, whilst wondering that the other space-faring nations would make of the launch of the Centurion...

The single cruiser group was in the system to stop and refeul, they had recently come from a minor border squabble, and they were in need of some rest, but there was a strange ship in the system, of an unrecognized design, this bore investigating.

Transmission to unknown vessel:

This is the TDS Fearless , please state your idenefication, and reason for being in this system.

RSS Centurion

No sooner, it seemed, than they had escaped near disaster from a malfunctioning thruster system, than they were being contacted by another vessel. Olliver turned to the Communications Officer, McCowley; "We're being hailed by a foreign vessel off our Port side, Captain. I'm running it through the translator onto the computer now."

Within a few seconds the computer screen to McCowley's left brightened, and a short, terse message flashed up onto it:

This is the TDS Fearless , please state your idenefication, and reason for being in this system.

Olliver frowned, pursed his lips. Well, one of the priorities of this trip had been communication with other species and foreign fleets, and that was indeed what had happened, albeit ever so slightly sooner than he had expected it. He shrugged mentally; there was nothing he could do but respond diplomatically and peacefully. He turned to McCowley, and dictated the following reply to the foreign spacecraft:

This is the Republican Space Craft Centurion. We are currently conducting our maiden voyage for the Republican Space Force. We mean you no harm, unknown vessel, and are on a peaceful mission to conduct weapons-testing and other manouvers.

RSS Centurion

No sooner, it seemed, than they had escaped near disaster from a malfunctioning thruster system, than they were being contacted by another vessel. Olliver turned to the Communications Officer, McCowley; "We're being hailed by a foreign vessel off our Port side, Captain. I'm running it through the translator onto the computer now."

Within a few seconds the computer screen to McCowley's left brightened, and a short, terse message flashed up onto it:

This is the TDS Fearless , please state your idenefication, and reason for being in this system.

Olliver frowned, pursed his lips. Well, one of the priorities of this trip had been communication with other species and foreign fleets, and that was indeed what had happened, albeit ever so slightly sooner than he had expected it. He shrugged mentally; there was nothing he could do but respond diplomatically and peacefully. He turned to McCowley, and dictated the following reply to the foreign spacecraft:

This is the Republican Space Craft Centurion. We are currently conducting our maiden voyage for the Republican Space Force. We mean you no harm, unknown vessel, and are on a peaceful mission to conduct weapons-testing and other manouvers.

Reply to Centurion :
Try to keep your guns away from us, will you, we've just come from combat and are simply in the system to recharge our batteries, then we'll be leaving again. Fearless out.

RSS Centurion

The slightly longer reply from the foreign vessel flashed once again across McCowley's computer screen, before being replaced by an internal communication. Olliver nodded, but decided not to reply; the vesels were obviously leaving the system now, and further communication would be rather pointless. Instead, he decided that it was about time that the Centurion finished its manouvers. The main engines seemed to be working perfectly, and the thusters...well, the thrusters seemed to be working whenever they wanted to, which was something that would have to be solved rather quickly.

However, weapons was the final set of systems on the checklist which he held in his hand; he put the heavy board down on the floor by his chair, attaching it to a velcro sticker, and walked over to the cramped weapons systems position. Sitting by the complex array of panels was his weapons officer, Master Chief Braxa. A man of medium build with thick, unruly black hair and dark skin from constant sun exposure, Braxa was now swearing under his breath at the computer display in front of him. Olliver coughed politely, and Braxa spun around, face reddening.

"Having a problem with the systems, Chief?" Olliver asked the man. Braxa fronwed, then nodded reluctantly. "Everythings working except the damn laser systems Sir. I mean, well...take a look at it yourself. This is supposed to be the Laser array display..." Olliver leaned inwards and looked at the panel in question; instead of the usual organised mess of context-sensitive buttons and labels that would operate the array was...

Olliver leaned back with an expression somewhere between bemusement and annoyance. "Is that a game of Solitaire, Chief?" he said quietly. Braxa frowned again, and nodded his agreement. "Yes sir...it just appeared, and I can't get the controls back. I think a full house fires the lasers, if thats any consolation, sir...".

Olliver tried to remain angry, but something just seemed...appropriate...about that whole thing. Sighing instead, he ordered the Chief to target the unmanned drone that had been released several hours ago by the Praetonia, and fire a salvo of High-Explosive missiles from the Missile Cells either side of the hull. Nodding, Braxa gladly input the commands, and fired.

On the exterior of the hull of the Centurion, three missile cells were raised into position on each side of the hull, opened their protective covers, and launched full volley of missiles, ten fron each launcher, before they cycled through and were drawn back into the hull. The missiles, propelled along and guided by both Braxa and their complex warheads, streaked through the empty void before hitting the small target drone and destroying it completely.

At least the weapon systems onboard the Centurion were working. The predator had teeth, if not complete control over itself yet...

"Sir, weapons activity detected." Announced the operations officer.

"Are there any ships nearby?" Questioned the captain, switching his monitor to the Operations view.

"Affirmative, but not in weapons range... It seems to be of Mini Miehm design. They're docked, sir."

"Understood." Captain Harris sat back down and crossed his legs. "Weapon testing, perhaps." He assumed, crossing his legs.

The VSV Pioneer is a Steamrunner class vessel intended for escort and diplomatic missions, like this one. It is well armed, and defended for a ship its size but still houses Grade 3 diplomatic comforts and quarters. The Pioneer had received a sub-space communication some time ago redirecting them to the location of an alien ship, for first contact.

"Approaching communication range, sir." said the Communications officer.

"Open a channel to the vessel, Comms."

"Aye, open sir." Came the reply, as the captain cleared his voice.

"Greetings on behalf of the ASV, I am Captain Will Harris of the Pioneer." The captain was using his 'happy' voice. "We are here as explorers to meet you... and... welcome you into space...!" His voice trailed off towards the end and he quickly muted the channel "Oh, that was horrible... I feel like a clown greeting the children at a circus."

A brief chuckle came from the bridge crew.

Transmission to the Pioneer:

This is the TDS Fearless , state your intentions towards the Centurion .

The Makaarian Heavy Cruiser HMMS Young dropped out of warp. It was one of the newer Makaarian designs, a County-class vessel, 700 metres in length.

"This is the Makaarian Heavy Cruiser HMMS Young, we have detected weapons fire in this system. Firing vessels, state your identification and reasons for engaging in battle or we will open fire."

The captain leaned back in his chair. This was an unusual policy of the Makaarian Royal Space Corps. Why they had to drop in on every conflict was a mystery to him. It seemed that the Ministry of War believed it had the right to 'police' the galaxy. Oh well, the thought, before giving a nod to his tactical officer who brought the shields online but left the weapons powered down.

The Makaarian Heavy Cruiser HMMS Young dropped out of warp. It was one of the newer Makaarian designs, a County-class vessel, 700 metres in length.

"This is the Makaarian Heavy Cruiser HMMS Young, we have detected weapons fire in this system. Firing vessels, state your identification and reasons for engaging in battle or we will open fire."

The captain leaned back in his chair. This was an unusual policy of the Makaarian Royal Space Corps. Why they had to drop in on every conflict was a mystery to him. It seemed that the Ministry of War believed it had the right to 'police' the galaxy. Oh well, the thought, before giving a nod to his tactical officer who brought the shields online but left the weapons powered down.

Transmission to unidentified vessel:

Do not fire on the Centurion , if you do you will be engaged and destroyed, this is TDS Fearless , give identification and your ntentions in this system, if they are hostile, just take yourself right on back across the hyper-limit.

OOC: Makaar, is that from Mercedes Lackeys books?

"Captain, incomming transmission...from the Mini Miehm vessel, Fearless. I'm translating now." Said the Comms officer.

Harris raised an eyebrow. "Lets see it." The viewer flickered on, displaying a sentence. "Comms?" Said the Captain.

"Yessir, thats it."

Harris adjusted his uniform as he stood up from his seat. "Open a channel to the ship"

"Open, Suh."

"Greetings, Fearless. I am Captain Harris of the Pioneer. We are here to conduct an exploration mission... Thank you for your concern... And what are your intentions here?" The channel muted and waited for a responce.

"Sir," The Comms officer nearls interupted. "Ship disengaging Warp. Appears to be an unidentified Makkar design... they are broadcasting."

"Semms we have a bit of a party now..." Ford, the second officer stated to the captain as the message from the Makkar vessel played over the bridge speakers.

"Well, they seem like rather nice people. Threatening to fire already. Yellow alert, notify Deep Space 0027 of our situation. Extend our shields around the Centurion just in case of an attack." Rattled Harris, his voice now had a trace of annoyance in it.

"Are you willing to respond, Capt'n?" Asked Ford

"No, they asked for the ship... er... ships that fired the weapons to respond..." he paused and gave a smile "And state the reason for battle."

"Captain, incomming transmission...from the Mini Miehm vessel, Fearless. I'm translating now." Said the Comms officer.

Harris raised an eyebrow. "Lets see it." The viewer flickered on, displaying a sentence. "Comms?" Said the Captain.

"Yessir, thats it."

Harris adjusted his uniform as he stood up from his seat. "Open a channel to the ship"

"Open, Suh."

"Greetings, Fearless. I am Captain Harris of the Pioneer. We are here to conduct an exploration mission... Thank you for your concern... And what are your intentions here?" The channel muted and waited for a responce.

"Sir," The Comms officer nearls interupted. "Ship disengaging Warp. Appears to be an unidentified Makkar design... they are broadcasting."

"Semms we have a bit of a party now..." Ford, the second officer stated to the captain as the message from the Makkar vessel played over the bridge speakers.

"Well, they seem like rather nice people. Threatening to fire already. Yellow alert, notify Deep Space 0027 of our situation. Extend our shields around the Centurion just in case of an attack." Rattled Harris, his voice now had a trace of annoyance in it.

"Are you willing to respond, Capt'n?" Asked Ford

"No, they asked for the ship... er... ships that fired the weapons to respond..." he paused and gave a smile "And state the reason for battle."

Reply to the Pioneer:

We are here refueling after a fight, if the Makaar cause any trouble we might be here a bit longer than we expected though.

RSS Fearless

Apparently the weapons testing had not been well-recieved by other vessels in the system. Two vessels had hailed the Centurion within minutes of the testing, and now Olliver was starting to worry; his maiden voyage, already compunded by errors, was looking to turn into a full-scale fairefight even before he'd left Earths space itself.

He hurried over to the comunications panel, brushed aside McCowley, and hurredly inputted a message into the communications array, having the computer translate the message and transmit it on a multi-frequency band throughout the radio spectrum. Hopefully then all the vessels in range would recieve the message.

This is Captain Olliver of the RSS Centurion. We are on our maiden voyage and are conducting test manouvers and weapons testing. The weapons firing you registered was a cell of test missiles being fired by the Centurion herself. We mean you no harm and are on a peaceful mission. Wehave no wish for this to escalate to anything more. We apologise for any misconceptions this has caused

Olliver made sure that the message was transmitted to the vessels in range, and then stood back. Hopefully that would ease any worries of the other vessels; if not, there would be some unfortunate effects...

Within seconds of this, events had begun to unfold even quicker. One three ships had been identified; the Mini Miehm vessel, tagged as friendly by the Tactical station, the hailing vessel, tagged as unknown, and the vessel that had just extended some sort of advanced phase shielding around the Centurion, hopefully in a protective way, and not as a hostile action. Olliver frowned at the developments, but decided that any ally was neccessary in this situation, and so hailed the vessel that had extended its shields:

Attention unknown vessel. This is Captain Olliver of the RSS Centurion. I'd like to thank you for your protective act, and enquire as to your species and name. Perhaps we could exchange information, ideas, once this unfortunate event has been resolved

Olliver made sure the message was transmitted, and tapped his fingers impatiently as he awaited a response...

[OOC: This is heating up a bit fast, no?]

"Ah, there." Sighed Harris as the message from the Centurion was broadcasted. "Open a channel to the Centurion."

"Aye, open, sir." Said Comms.

"Centurion, this is Harris. If a fire-fight breaks out here, My vessel will be able to lock onto you with a tractor beam and take you into warp to the nearest Vi2oian space station for safety. I would love talk more diplomatic, but I think that can be saved for later. Do you accept?"

It was a bold step, and Harris knew it... But he felt it was needed to protect the Centurion and its crew from an unfair fight.

RSS Centurion

Slightly static-filled, the transmission still came through clear enough from the Comm Panel for Olliver to comprehend the message it contained:

Centurion, this is Harris. If a fire-fight breaks out here, My vessel will be able to lock onto you with a tractor beam and take you into warp to the nearest Vi2oian space station for safety. I would love talk more diplomatic, but I think that can be saved for later. Do you accept?"

Olliver considered this. If events did heat up, then a retreat would be advisable, especially since the nearest Republican reinforcements were still six months from being built in the spacedock. He nodded grimly; he would accept the Vi2oian offer with grace.

Vi2oian vessel, this is Olliver. We greatfully accept your assistance in this matter; however, we hope to solve the matter peacefully with the unknown ship, as we have explained ourselves several times. But I thankyou for your assistance, as does my crew. Olliver out

Hopefully that would be the end of the matter, but just in case, Olliver had the weapons warmed up, and passive targetting of the unknown vessel that had hailed them threatening action; if there was a fight, the Centurion would be far from helpless...

A message was broadcast by the heavy cruiser:

"Do not waste your breath invoking threats against us. Makaar is well aware of your vessel's...limited firepower. We were simply curious. We will stay here to observe. You are under notice that we are going to launch a series of scientific probes to determine this vessel's strength. Be advised that if you hinder our information-gathering, you will be fired upon. End communication."

The captain shut off the communication before turning to his tactical officer. "Take us to Condition Blue. Minimal shields. Prepare to launch fighters. Also, begin launching intelligence probes, I want full reports on what that vessel can do."

A message was broadcast by the heavy cruiser:

"Do not waste your breath invoking threats against us. Makaar is well aware of your vessel's...limited firepower. We were simply curious. We will stay here to observe. You are under notice that we are going to launch a series of scientific probes to determine this vessel's strength. Be advised that if you hinder our information-gathering, you will be fired upon. End communication."

The captain shut off the communication before turning to his tactical officer. "Take us to Condition Blue. Minimal shields. Prepare to launch fighters. Also, begin launching intelligence probes, I want full reports on what that vessel can do."

To the Makaar vesel:

Take back your fighters, or I'll be forced to disable them.

OOC: I said "prepare" to launch fighters, they have not been launched yet.

OOC: I said "prepare" to launch fighters, they have not been launched yet.

OOC: oops, I figured that meant that you were going to launch them, just assume you recieve the message after launching them, ok?(too lazy to fix it now)

OOC: OK, if I launch the fighters, then I'll recieve the message. Let's just say while I was "preparing" the fighters, you saw it and "prepared" a message.

OOC: OK, if I launch the fighters, then I'll recieve the message. Let's just say while I was "preparing" the fighters, you saw it and "prepared" a message.

OOC: makes sense.

Drake sighed as he listened to tensions rise over the comm, naval officers jumping at shadows, tossing threats without a clue as to what was going on.

And to think, this was suposed to be a relaxing exercise...

----------

A scant six thousand kilometers away, a fistfull of degrees above the 'horizon', a star suddenly winked; then another, and another - an inky void apearing in Earth orbit, an ebony silouette some three hundred meters from stem to stern, occupying an orbital slot that had been beaconed as 'reserved' for centuries.

Moments pass as lights come to life, winking and flashing generic patterns, filling a sudden hole in the background radiation; a shockingly high mass manifesting on gravitic sensors, of which there had been no trace mere moments earlier - transponder lighting off finally, as she completed her five second transition from active stealth, and broadcast was sent.

"This is Captain Drake Fenwick, Kanuckistani High Gaurd Vessel Hentai Tentacle Monster," the male voice began in lightly accented English, "The vessel RSS Centurion was merely engaged in a weapons exercise. Although unwise to do so so close to Earth, and without setting up a clearly marked firing range to avoid accidents, they did no harm, and any attempt to use this as an excuse to engage in unwarrented agression shall be met with excessive force in quantities more often associated with mass-extinction events - in this case, yours. Fenwick out."


OOC:
Stat-Breif, Dark Valor-Class 'Frigate'(commonly known as a 'pocket dreadnaught'; this design is over 500 IC years(18 RL months) old)

Length:
-350m

Power:
Multipule Military-Grade Hawking Matter-Energy Conversion Reactors

Armament:
-3x Extreamly Heavy Spinal Cryo-Atomic Pulsed 'Particle-Wave' Beam Cannons
-3x Armoured Ordinance-Frames
---25x Rapid-Fire Inertial Launch Tubes Each(75x total) + Ample S-Fold Magizine Storage
-72x Fast-tracking varriable-frequency point-defence pulse lasers

Carriage:
-144x Daemon's Bane Class Unmanned Interceptors in armoured racks

Armour:
-Primarily ~1mm Century-Crafted Darkforge Battleplate; and exotic and massivly resiliant form of Subatomic Particle Lattice(SAPL)

Fields:
-Medium Flash-Charge Barrier Fields
-Gun- and Tube-Shields
-ASPEW(negates 'supernatural' forces, amough other effects)

After recieving a number of threats, the Makaarian Royal Stellar Navy called in another few ships. The following vessels:

HMMS Africa - Frigate, lightly armed
HMMS Prosperous - Light Cruiser, moderate armaments
HMMS Stubborn - Light Cruiser, moderate armaments
HMMS Settler - Light Battlecruiser, heavy armaments

These ships took up a defensive position with the HMMS Young. All powered up their shields, but left their weapons unpowered.

"This is the HMMS Settler to all vessels in the area," a voice cut over all other communications. "We will not tolerate threats against any vessel of the King's Stellar Navy. We are here for information-gathering about this new ship and its capabilities. Your threats have forced us to bring in heavy reinforcements. We will only fire if provoked. Lesson: Don't provoke us. End communication."

"HMMS Settler, this is the KHGV Hentai Tentacle Monster; please define 'information-gathering' - I've seen some rather... intrusive definitions, and it would ease tensions and facilitate the non-violent resolution of any possible conflict if you outlined your planed activities - and be aware that we may choose to engage in similar 'information-gathering' of your own vessels.

"This is Sol-system, afterall, where tensions are high and trigger-fingers itchy; I personally recomend the 'sit and look but keep a respectful distance' aproach to recon."

From the darkness came the Word, and the Word was of the Voice. From the Abyss, the Voice used the Word to bring forth all creation

The ship was tiny in comparison to the larger craft. . . but it was designed for stealth and speed, not power. The body of the pilot floated in suspension, his mind registering a few brief flickers through the rows of cables connecting his mind to the ship's artificial intelgence system.

An Avian once stumbled into the hive of a particular flesheating wasp. . .

His thoughts registered, bringing the control panel to life, the light cast over his lifeless and blind eyes. Such things were for the technicians. . . civilians. . . he had no use for them, but those who visited his tomb liked the reassurance. . . they remembered Adam too well still. If he had any control over his body, he would have smiled.

The wasps swung in and stung him, each one causing a little more of the Avian's flesh to decay and fall off into the waiting feeding pond below. The more that the Avian thrashed, the more the wasps stung him.

He thought in machine language, translated to human speach by the AS core above him and his own mind. It broadcast slowly from his ship to the other, gargantuan hulks. His Ortagan cloaking shields slowly slipped off as his broadcast made them moot to begin with.

The Avian was so furious, that he refused to leave the inferior wasps alone, and was stung to death, his body feeding the next generation of wasps.

A slight static hiss filled the airwaves as the ship lazily drifted through space, gently touching down on the hull of the larger ship Centurion.

Anchoring magnets attached to the ship, and a private message flickered across it's communications channels.

"forgive the intrusion" a slightly metalic voice said flattly "I pray that my interference is not nessisary, but I am willing to add the nation of Taka to your roster of allies.

A shield system warmed up and expanded rapidly over the hulk of the Centurion. . . though the massive ship meant that the shields would be stretched to their limit, the HEPD fields were more than enough to stop projectile attacks, and the main cannon on the tiny flying gun would be enough to worry the larger ships should they persue agression.

I suggest the voice said again, switching back to a public channel that we all back down and leave our new found little brothers to conduct thier testing without accusation. This mandate is issued dirrectly from an officer of the God Prince Taka, you will obey, or you will be crushed by his divine wrath.

Almost as an after thought he added, And from his Immortal Majesty, we welcome you amoung the stars

[OOC: Umm...Taka, my vessels shields have already been extended over the Centurion. It would be impossible for you to have contacted the vessels hull without breaching them first. I'll try to play it off]

Harris slammed his fist against the armrest of his seat, leaving a contour on it of his violent action for a few seconds. "Do they want a war!?" He exclaimed as he stood up again and paced to the front of the bridge and back to his chair where he sat down once again. "Comms, notify Deep Space 0027 of whats going on. Have them ready a fleet in case something unfortunate happens here." he threw his head to look the other way, towards the operations officer "Ops, move us in closer to the Centurion, ready the tractor beam."

"Sir, charging the beam will require me to drop the shields for 9.7 seconds."

"Very well, do it."

Harris glanced behind him to the tactical officer. "Give me a full tactical analysis of all the ships here." He then gave his final command to engineering "Transfer all available power to the shields and impulse engines in case we need to make a mad dash out of here."

Harris had played his cards, he now waited for the next thing that could go wrong to go wrong.

((OOC: hmm, didn't notice that, sorry. As for specs for the ship, it's small, only 30 meters from bow to stern, single life form internaly, it appears to be little more than a floating powercore and a "slicer" style heavy cutting laser))

"Sir, I'm reading a scan from one of the vessels...it's directed to our defensive system. They're probing us."

The Makaarian captain of the HMMS Settler turned his head. "Rotate shield polarities. Have cloaking shields on standby. Block their scans and target all weapons on that vessel. Open a channel."

The communications officer nodded and the captain took his seat. "This is the HMMS Settler to the vessel scanning us. Discontinue your scans towards us or we will be forced to open fire."

He turned to his flight crew officer. "Launch the first fighter squadron. Show them we're not to be messed with."

As the fighters launched, they recieved a message from the Mini Miehm vessel to take them back. The captain ignored it.

RSS Centurion

Matters were now appearing to reach a violent climax, something that Olliver was looking to avoid at any costs. More than a dozen vessels had now warped into the system, nearly all of them dwarfing the Centurion in size and firepower; it was a rather unfortunate situation and not one that Olliver, or the Republican Space Force itself, had wanted to happen. Now the original vessel that had warned the Centurion about its weapons-testing had launched a number of what the LADAR appeared to see as fighters, small vessels well beyond anything the Republican Space Force could even dream off, so complex was the design.

To top it all off, another two vessels had come to the aid of the Centurion in some kind of interstellar act of kindess, and had moved to protect the Centurion from the launching vessel - Makarrian, they seemed to be named, from pieces of transmissions that the Comm station had picked up. Olliver rubbed his forehead; a migraine was coming, and it appeared that the Centurion was about to come under attack, as well as its protectors.

Since the last thing that he wanted was so many deaths on his conscience - and his record - Olliver had the Comm station transmit the following broadcast on a multi-spectrum band so that all the vessels could recieve it:

Fellow starship commanders. My vessel has apparently made a grievous error in starting weapons testing on her maiden voyage without transmitting some kind of interstellar warning. For this, I apologise; the last thing that is needed is fighting and death. I ask you all to stand down your weapons; do not fire, for this situation can surely be resolved peacefully and without violence.

The message was transmitted by McCowley with the touch of a button, the message being sent to all the vessels in the sector. Olliver's forehead tensed further, and he gripped it with his hand, working through the intense pain centred there. How could all of this happened, and so fast...? The Centurion was alone, surrounded by foreign and alien warships, about to start an interstellar war...

The Settler recieved the message from the Centurion. The captain turned to his tactical officer:

"Do what they ask. I will not be the one to start a war here. Recall the fighters. Keep our shields at maximum, though...something tells me these people are not to be trusted."

"Sir, the Makkar fleet is changing shield polarity and attempting to resist our scans." Reported Ops

The captain snorted. "Well, we apparently cannot scan the system without an issue... discontinue scan, but keep your attention on the vessels in case of hostile activity." He ran his fingers through his thinning hair and closed his eyes momentarily only to be jolted back to reality by the tactical officer.

"It appears they are targeting us, captain..."

"Oh, so they may point their guns at us, but we may not look out the window to see who's dog is barking?"

"Fighters inbound!" Said the staggered tactical officer.

"What? Red alert, prepare for a jump out of this system!" Commanded Harris.

"Message inbound from the Makkar vessel." Said the comms officer, with a bored tone of voice.

"Oh, great... Lets hear this one."

The message played over the speakers.

The captain roared in laughter. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "No response, comms."

Upon Red Alert, the starship's computer automatically charged all phaser-banks and pre-loaded the torpedo launchers. All the fighters would be manned and ready to defend the Pioneer if needed.

There was then yet another peaceful message from the innocent Centurion and the fighters returned to their vessels. The VSV Pioneer would remain on Red Alert. DS27 was also notified of this incident and would prepare an escort to take the Pioneer and its new cargo to safety, away from SOL.

"Sir, I'm reading a scan from one of the vessels...it's directed to our defensive system. They're probing us."

The Makaarian captain of the HMMS Settler turned his head. "Rotate shield polarities. Have cloaking shields on standby. Block their scans and target all weapons on that vessel. Open a channel."

The communications officer nodded and the captain took his seat. "This is the HMMS Settler to the vessel scanning us. Discontinue your scans towards us or we will be forced to open fire."

He turned to his flight crew officer. "Launch the first fighter squadron. Show them we're not to be messed with."

As the fighters launched, they recieved a message from the Mini Miehm vessel to take them back. The captain ignored it.

"Launch the Interceptors, tachyon pulse cannon only, disable, don't kill." The Interceptors were new, there wre three different verions, the Gravebane, the weakest and least heavily armed and armored, more of a scout than anything else, thwe Bloodpath, larger and more heavily outfitted, with double the weapons of the smaller Gravebane, as well as greater engine strength, a long range strike unit primarily, and the Genesis, the heaviest of all, with 8 energy batteries, and 4 missile banks, as well as a special weapons slot, the heavy hitter of the Interceptor family, capable of taking sdown the lighter capitol ships of less advanced fleets, but less quick and maneuverable than the Bloodpath, they were deployed, 300 of them from the fleets three carriers, they would defend the fleet formation from the over-agressive Makaar.

Commander Ford swore under his breath. As he looked at the short-range battle sensors detecting the fighters clashing in the space in front of the VSV Pioneer. It had begun. "Captain, how did this happen?"

Harris was directly behind Ford, starring at the main viewer also in dismay. "I don't understand. Multiple ships detected weapons fire from SOL. We responded to make sure everything was alright and to make first contact with this vessel... which we haven't even a clue as to what nation or colony it is from."

Harris paused and then continued. "A few other ships warped into the system to investigate... perfectly normal... and now we are fighting over what? A trigger-happy fleet thinks every move we make to identify them is an act of aggression." He thought about this a minute. "We all know that it was just weapons testing, so why are we here dueling-" Harris herd the proximity alarm sound and bolted his eyes to look at the tactical monitor again.

The ship had been hit by a stray energy weapon blast on the starboard bow from the dogfight. The energy from the small fighter craft washed over the shields with hardly any damage.

"That's it, Open a channel to the RSS Centurion!" Harris yelled, as he sat back down in his seat and punched in a coordinate into his computer.

"Open, sir." Responded Comms.

"Centurion, this is the Pioneer, we are about to make a jump for warp to Deep Space 0027, a space station of the Allied State of Vi2o. Please respond with your final decision. It will take us..." Harris glanced at the operations officer.

"27 minutes, sir"

Harris continued "It will take us 27 minutes to reach the station at maximum capable warp with you in tow. Please respond immediately, we are out-gunned if this breaks out into a full-scale battle! Harris of the Pioneer out."

"Sir, 5 allied ships inbound! I'm reading 3 Akira class cruisers and 2 Prometheus class assault warships." Said the tactical officer with a trace of glee in his voice. DS27 had dispatched a small, but strong fleet to assist the Pioneer. Their escort back to home will be arriving shortly. They should be safe for now. Now Harris just hoped that Olliver trusted him enough to take a trip faster and further than anyone else from his nation had ever imagined possible with known technology.

Commander Ford swore under his breath. As he looked at the short-range battle sensors detecting the fighters clashing in the space in front of the VSV Pioneer. It had begun. "Captain, how did this happen?"

Harris was directly behind Ford, starring at the main viewer also in dismay. "I don't understand. Multiple ships detected weapons fire from SOL. We responded to make sure everything was alright and to make first contact with this vessel... which we haven't even a clue as to what nation or colony it is from."

Harris paused and then continued. "A few other ships warped into the system to investigate... perfectly normal... and now we are fighting over what? A trigger-happy fleet thinks every move we make to identify them is an act of aggression." He thought about this a minute. "We all know that it was just weapons testing, so why are we here dueling-" Harris herd the proximity alarm sound and bolted his eyes to look at the tactical monitor again.

The ship had been hit by a stray energy weapon blast on the starboard bow from the dogfight. The energy from the small fighter craft washed over the shields with hardly any damage.

"That's it, Open a channel to the RSS Centurion!" Harris yelled, as he sat back down in his seat and punched in a coordinate into his computer.

"Open, sir." Responded Comms.

"Centurion, this is the Pioneer, we are about to make a jump for warp to Deep Space 0027, a space station of the Allied State of Vi2o. Please respond with your final decision. It will take us..." Harris glanced at the operations officer.

"27 minutes, sir"

Harris continued "It will take us 27 minutes to reach the station at maximum capable warp with you in tow. Please respond immediately, we are out-gunned if this breaks out into a full-scale battle! Harris of the Pioneer out."

"Sir, 5 allied ships inbound! I'm reading 3 Akira class cruisers and 2 Prometheus class assault warships." Said the tactical officer with a trace of glee in his voice. DS27 had dispatched a small, but strong fleet to assist the Pioneer. Their escort back to home will be arriving shortly. They should be safe for now. Now Harris just hoped that Olliver trusted him enough to take a trip faster and further than anyone else from his nation had ever imagined possible with known technology.

To the Pioneer:

You may want to get out of here, we'll keep the trigger happy Makaar off your back, you can at least get the Skinnies out of here.

fools. . . all of them fools He thought to himself, the emergance of the other vessels signifying that this could quickly turn into a full scale engagement. His mind registered anouther, louder echo amoung the warp. . . a voice. . . a thought. . . His God had arrived to find what had delayed his report.

To those of you who wish to keep your meaningless lives and the lives of your crews. . . you will power down your weapons and break off all hostilities. Those who shed blood today shall be judged by Grand Inquisitor Toth. . . and those who are found lacking of purity, shall be put to the sword.

He cursed quietly as his ship prepared to releace him from his tomb, and the wracking sensation of pins and needles across his entire body made him suddenly aware that his nueral discriminators were no longer engaged. The fluid drained from his tube, and the coupler locked with the alien Skinny ship. He grabbed a breather and quickly put the helmet on, locking it with the skin of his suit. Only a fool would trust alien warp, and he was not a fool. The AS system quickly patched into the docking bay computers, overriding and cracking the pressure locks with a pop. Atmosphere floodedi nto his ship and he rather reluctantly severed his link with his ship. As the two split, he felt his mind closing, limiting itself again without the AS systems near infinate abilityu to meld with his mind and to expand it and it's abilities. The door under his feet slid open, catching him off guard, and he would have tumbled into the hallway had it not been for the inertial dampers holding a false floor under him. He slid out, standing on the alien ship's interior.

"um. . . take me to your leader?"

he asked, a thin, almost frail male voice coming from vocal cords unused for the durration of his tour.

RSS Centurion

Intruder Alert!

Intruder Alert!

The flat yet urgent tone of the computer-generated alert system was a constant background noise to the rest of the Centurion. Just seconds after seeing the Mini Miehm fleet launch their fighters and apparently open fire on the Makarrian vessels that had withdrawn their fighters, the for'ard hatch had been opened from the outside and an alien being had landed in 'A' Section, Deck One, near the bridge. A squad of Marines, XM-8s at the ready, ran at full tilt across the brideg and took up covering positions, whilst another squad readied their weapons before bursting through the heavy doors that sealed off each section from the breach and the intruder. The heavily-armed squad moved quickly into the corridor, to find themselves with only a single, unarmed intruder. Seeing the creature as no potential threat, they had stood down and awaited Ollivers arrival.

Olliver stepped through the gap in the door between the two sections, flanked by another two Marines, and he soon stood before the alien creature, lying on the floor. He noticed the hatch, open and connected to another ship above the Centurion, and with a start and a mumbled curse, realised that this must be a representative of the small alien vessel that had slid next to the Vi2ioan vessel protecting the Centurion. He waved away the anxious and curious Marines, and crouched down to the alien, reaching out a tentative hand to help...it up; at least he thought it was an 'It', he couldn't really tell from its exterior; it was his first alien, after all.

He extended his hand further, slowly so as to avoid scaring or intimidating the alien, and spoke quietly but firmly to it. We recieved your message from your vessel; our weapons are powered down, and as we have no shields to speak off, they are irrelevant I'm afraid. I hope you come with good news...; Olliver struggled for the correct term to address the alien with, deciding to simply await his response...

(OOC: Hey Skinny, long time! Mind If I join in?)

OOC: Nope, completely open, nice to see you again

A beep in his helmet told him that the sensors had finished scanning for pathogens and toxins and found none. He waited for the second beep to tell him that the lifeforms around him would be resistant to any viri or bacteria in him.

He looked for a moment at the captains extended hand, and tentativly took it in his own, grasping it firmly.

"Greetings, Captian, I am Accolyte Sagami, officer of the Takian empire. I pray you will forgive my intrusion, my ship is not built to handle the warp, and I do not know what kind of transit our. . . impromptu alies. . . intend to use."

He looked around at the interior of the ship, noting the primative but effective methodology of it's construction. A second beep told him that the scan was completed and that the atmosphere, as well as the biological creatures before him were no threat, nor was he a threat to them.

"My computer has just informed me that I may remove my helmet without fear of contaminating you or your men." he explained simply, reaching up to unfasten the seals. He removed the helmet and tossed it through the hatch into his ship and turned back to face the captian once more. Short, unaturaly blue hair clung to his face, still wet from the liquid environment he had called hom for the past several months. His eyes were also blue, cold as ice but burning with an inner, cold flame. Across his face, a massed scar pattern wound its way down his neck and across his cheeks, forming a rune that seemed to dance and change as he spoke. His voice, without the helmets voxcasting system, was weak and tired.

"As a member of the Takian Empire, I come to offer you terms of non-hostility and trade. As I was not on a diplomatic mission, I fear I only carry the generic terms, though you are welcome to review them with your superiors and come to whatever alterations need to be made."

He reached in his pressuresuit pouch and pulled out a silver disk, then frowned as he looked at the computers of the ship.

"forgive me, I didn't expect such primitive systems." He replaced the disk and pulled out a plastic sheet. Tapping it a few times, it glowed with an inner light, and words materialized on it in a strange character set. He held it in his hand and closed his eyes, the words dissipating and reforming in English. He handed it to the captain, the simple document holding four clauses.

1) Nation that has been contacted swears to uphold a non-agressive stance towards Taka, and will seek at all times to seek peacible resolutions to conflict with Taka as Taka shall do with them

2) Free trade shall be permitted in all legal comodities as dictated by both the producing nation and the recieving nation. All merchants from a member nation will be held accountable by the laws of both nations, and no unessisary search and seizure of economic goods will be done nor will be permitted outside the bounds of law

3) As an act of good will, missionaries of the God Prince, technicians, advisors, and diplomats will be sent between the two nations to assure continual support of both nations towards thier common goals. To this end, an embassy, paid and constructed by the host nation, will be provided.

4) This agreement shall be binding, and shall not be amended without concent from both party nations.

"It is only the most basic of requests" Sagami said as the captain glanced at it. "non-agression between our nations, free trade, a trade of ambassadors, and a clause to assure it isn't changed without both nations approval. You are free to revise taht to your needs, but I wanr you that I have limited pwoer to grant you concessions."

Sagami felt a knot in his stomach, and a wave of pain and nausia swept through him. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath. Shocking white pain swept through his mind and he closed his eyes, willing it to go away. After a few moments, it subsided and he shakily stood again.

"I . . . fear. .. that Toth will be. . . arriving soon"

he gasped out, pain still coursing behind his eyes.

The Settler turned to face its broadside particle cannons at the Mini Miehm capitol ships and fired some shots at 10% strength as a warning. As the fighters approached the fleet, all of the ships locked small tractor beams on them, and repelled them.

"I want plasma sphere generators online. Prepare to fire and destroy the MM fighters. Open a channel to the lead MM capitol ship."

"Channel open, sir," replied the comms officer. The captain rotated his chair to face the viewscreen once again.

"This is the HMMS Settler to the Mini Miehm vessels. You have committed an act of war against the Monarchial Assembly of Makaar. This vessel is under orders to neutralise all threats to Makaar. Our shields are protecting us fairly well from your fighter assault. Now, wthdraw your fighters and we can settle this without fighting. I warn you, you are outnumbered and outgunned. Recall your fighters or I will disable your ships."

He turned to his comms officer and made a cut-throat sign. The comms officer closed the channel.

"Divert reserve power to the broadside particle cannons, bring them past their usual power allocation. No more warning shots. Target their weapons array and prepare to fire. Load torpedo and missile bays. Advise all other ships in the fleet to do the same. Signal them that as captain of the tactically superor ship I am taking command of the fleet, confirmation code 5XQ."

The comms officer nodded, as the tactical officer looked up from his station. "All weapons now ready, sir," he confirmed.

The Settler turned to face its broadside particle cannons at the Mini Miehm capitol ships and fired some shots at 10% strength as a warning. As the fighters approached the fleet, all of the ships locked small tractor beams on them, and repelled them.

"I want plasma sphere generators online. Prepare to fire and destroy the MM fighters. Open a channel to the lead MM capitol ship."

"Channel open, sir," replied the comms officer. The captain rotated his chair to face the viewscreen once again.

"This is the HMMS Settler to the Mini Miehm vessels. You have committed an act of war against the Monarchial Assembly of Makaar. This vessel is under orders to neutralise all threats to Makaar. Our shields are protecting us fairly well from your fighter assault. Now, wthdraw your fighters and we can settle this without fighting. I warn you, you are outnumbered and outgunned. Recall your fighters or I will disable your ships."

He turned to his comms officer and made a cut-throat sign. The comms officer closed the channel.

"Divert reserve power to the broadside particle cannons, bring them past their usual power allocation. No more warning shots. Target their weapons array and prepare to fire. Load torpedo and missile bays. Advise all other ships in the fleet to do the same. Signal them that as captain of the tactically superor ship I am taking command of the fleet, confirmation code 5XQ."

The comms officer nodded, as the tactical officer looked up from his station. "All weapons now ready, sir," he confirmed.

OOC: Read my post more carefully, I have not attacked you.

"Sir, it's now a firefight betwee-"

"I know, I know. Open a channel to the RSS Centurion again. We're going to have to transport the crew of that ship if they are willing to warp out of the system with us." The captain wrinkled his nose at the sight from the main viewer of the battle.

"Channel open."

"Centurion, this is the Pioneer. We are still awaiting your decision to flee. If you agree, we will have to transport the crew of your ship to ours, as the Centurion is not built with dampeners for FTL travel. Our method of transport... is teleportation. Do not worry, it's completely safe. Much safer than staying aboard your craft. Please respond, our escort will be here shortly. Pioneer out." The channel closed. "What is the crew of that ship?"

"Fifty-five, sir. Or... fifty-six..." Said the Operations, puzzled by the new number, as the Pioneer had not yet detected the Taka ship, since the focus was to escape and not to search for stealth ships.

"And that will take us how long to transport...?" Asked the captain.

"About 6 minutes, sir if we use all transporters. It will only take 2 if our entire fleet uses their transporters to beam them aboard our craft" Reported Ops, after doing a quick calculation.

"We'll do that. Wait for a response, Comms."

"Aye."

RSS Centurion

Olliver studied the piece of plastic with something akin to awe; such technology was lightyears ahead of anything that the Rrpublican military could even begin to think of, and showed the obviously advanced status of the being and his race. Reading the terms of the treaty that came flashing up upon the plastic, he nodded several times; the terms seemed more than fair to the Republic and the...Takans, as they seemed to refer to themselves as. He nodded once again to the alien before him, who had taken off his helmet to display some extremely bright and unusual hair on his head. " I think these terms are extremely generous, and as the representative for the Republic, I hereby accept your terms...". His words were cut off as the alien convulsed, clutching at what appeared to be his stomach, and began talking in a strange tone, referring to what Olliver seemed to think was a God of some kind. He shrugged mentally at this for a split-second, before shouting for a medic to tend to the alien and have him taken to the infirmiary at once for treatment; though what treatments they could give him, Olliver could not imagine.

He had just moved from a crouch to standing, when McCowley piped through a message from the Vi2oian vessel that had the Centurion under protection. He frowned at the message; abandoning his vessel was something he could not even begin to consider. He had the Comms station reply with a brief message:

Captain, I thank-you for your offer; your generosity and desire to aid us speaks volumes about your character and your crew; however, I must politely reject your offer; I cannot abandon the Centurion now; my crew and I will be safe, and I cannot abandon my vessel, something I hope you can understand and respect. We have reinforcements incoming even as we speak, but I hope to finally resolve the tense matter at hand now.

Then, within minutes of this private message going through, a public message was broadcast by the Centurion, directed in the direction of the Makarrian and Mini Miehm vessels:

Commanders, I beseech you to stand down your attacks now, to cease your attacks and de-charge your weapons; these attacks gain nothing but bloodshed and the deaths of many who do not deserve to die in such a meaningless and ultimately futile gesture of power; even as this is broadcast, I am assured that more reinforcements from all the nations represented here are entering Sol and are preparing to fight. This conflict solves nothing, and will aid no-one. I call upon you all to lower your weapons and ceae fighting. Immediately.

A response was sent to Olliver: "RSS Centurion, I may not have made myself clear. You will only need to be evacuated for 30 minutes during the warp flight, the Centurion will still be in tow. Its structural integrity will hold under warp, but anything that is not literally bolted down will be insecure without dampeners. If you still do not accept, we will remain here and defend this position at all costs. If you accept, however, we will begin to house you on the Pioneer until we exit warp. At that point you and your crew will be beamed back aboard the RSS Centurion and we will provide transportation back to your home planet once SOL is safe again. I will send you the coordinates of the station now, along with our computers star-chart so you have an idea of where DS27 is. Harris out."

RSS Centurion

Olliver studied the piece of plastic with something akin to awe; such technology was lightyears ahead of anything that the Rrpublican military could even begin to think of, and showed the obviously advanced status of the being and his race. Reading the terms of the treaty that came flashing up upon the plastic, he nodded several times; the terms seemed more than fair to the Republic and the...Takans, as they seemed to refer to themselves as. He nodded once again to the alien before him, who had taken off his helmet to display some extremely bright and unusual hair on his head. " I think these terms are extremely generous, and as the representative for the Republic, I hereby accept your terms...". His words were cut off as the alien convulsed, clutching at what appeared to be his stomach, and began talking in a strange tone, referring to what Olliver seemed to think was a God of some kind. He shrugged mentally at this for a split-second, before shouting for a medic to tend to the alien and have him taken to the infirmiary at once for treatment; though what treatments they could give him, Olliver could not imagine.

He had just moved from a crouch to standing, when McCowley piped through a message from the Vi2oian vessel that had the Centurion under protection. He frowned at the message; abandoning his vessel was something he could not even begin to consider. He had the Comms station reply with a brief message:

Captain, I thank-you for your offer; your generosity and desire to aid us speaks volumes about your character and your crew; however, I must politely reject your offer; I cannot abandon the Centurion now; my crew and I will be safe, and I cannot abandon my vessel, something I hope you can understand and respect. We have reinforcements incoming even as we speak, but I hope to finally resolve the tense matter at hand now.

Then, within minutes of this private message going through, a public message was broadcast by the Centurion, directed in the direction of the Makarrian and Mini Miehm vessels:

Commanders, I beseech you to stand down your attacks now, to cease your attacks and de-charge your weapons; these attacks gain nothing but bloodshed and the deaths of many who do not deserve to die in such a meaningless and ultimately futile gesture of power; even as this is broadcast, I am assured that more reinforcements from all the nations represented here are entering Sol and are preparing to fight. This conflict solves nothing, and will aid no-one. I call upon you all to lower your weapons and ceae fighting. Immediately.

To the Centurion:

We have deployed defensive measures only, we will not attack the Makaar, but they seem bound and determined to attack all of us, so I must respectfully decline to power-down my weapons, however much I would like to do just that, I cannot, in good conscience, de-activate my defenses in a position that I consider to be imminent threat.

Sagami gathered his thoughts as the medics helped to cary him away to a place to rest, but his mind still raced. He slowed his breathing and regained his composure as he was laid on a medical bed. He knew what it meant. . . Toth had arrived.

* * * * *

Space seemed to bend and ripple, three dimentions collapsing around a central point, like light arching gracefully into the event horizon of a black hole. Other such tears formed around space, forming a relativly closly packed collection of such anomolies. The bow cut through space first, an armored plow pitted with blast stains and torpedeo tubes. The ancient ship slowly cut through the warp, smaller escorts surrounding it like flies on a corpse. They buzzed around, flying rapidly from thier tight formation into a variable wall of contacts, great bricks surrounded by the morter of escorts. In the center, a massive ship led the wall foward. It's bow was in the form of a hooded angel with a massive blade in one hand and a pair of scales in the other. The sides looked rough and unfinished from afar from the pocks gained from centuries of conflict and strife.

Aboard the bridge of the Toth, High Inquisitor Toth floated silently in his awareness tank. Aboard his ship, he felt the hundred thousand souls that manned the behemoth. He watched as the flicker of lights wandered his hallways and manned his weapon. As quickly as they had come, the escort behind him folded back out, flashing out and leaving only Toth to the battle ahead. He grinned maliciously and reached out with his mind to the vast gulf. He felt the Andorien locking themselves into thier gunning mounts, felt the surge of energy that was thier collective contiousness reaching out and adding their power to his. Massed runes began to glow on the ship, forming a pattern of ten circles interconnected in a pattern on the underbelly of the ship.

I am alpha, and Omega. . . I am the begining, and the End. . . I am the judge of humanity, and the executioner of the unworth. The thought broadcast across the gulf, reaching all ships in the conflict.

Those who are innocent shall stand aside. . . those who remain threatening shall be destroyed.

There was no malice in the voice, no bragging, it was stated as if it were simply a fact amoung others. The gunners began locking on, each ship in the system targeted and locked into possition as scans were initated. Traditional weapons batterys as well as the Slicer variety heavy cutting lasers warmed up, and deep in the belly of the ship, the Sephiroth Projector turned on, the last of the runes on the belly crackeling to life.


* * * * * * *

Sagami's scar burned and he grabed at his face, screaming in pain as the power of the Sepiroth burned through his modified body. He convulsed and fell off of the medical table as medics struggled to stop his apparent seizures. Within a few moments, they subsided again, as his mind fully shut off it's link to the AS chip in his mind. Closed from the psychic power of the Takian Inquisitor's ship, Sagami was blissfully freed from the overload of information coursing through his mind. He opened his eyes again and looked up at the medics over him. He waved them off and muttered,

"I'm fine, I'm fine, unless you happen to have Sajak or whatever your local liquor is onboard."

He stood shakily, realizing he needed nothing so much as a drink right now.

To Toth:

Who are yopu to order us, we have done nothing to you, nor sworn allegiance to you, explain yourself, you deal with no mere man, I am Artanis, Prelate of the 3rd fleet, so by what right do you command me?

~As always was the case with the Draconic Order, any significant presence of ships in one system, especially if weapon fire was detected, was tagged to be scouted. This wasn't any different. A lone corvette class ship drifted in the asteroids on the edge of the system. Its passive scans and tapped transmissions largely unnoticed by the cosmic radiation/planetary bodies and the preoccupation of the victims.~

Fenwick frowned, watching his tactical repeater; who the hell was this? Some 'Holier than thou' 'arbiter', or just another 'concerned citizen'?

Either way, he didn't like what he was hearing, even if his ship had kept it weapons cold, sensors passive, and shields at Nav-Hazard deflection levels.

Ah well, easy enough to ask - and to clarify their position.

"Attention unidentified vessel, this is Captain Drake Fenwick, Kanuckistani High Gaurd Vessel Hentai Tentacle Monster; please clarify your intentions and your national alignment. As for your 'holier than thou' speil, well, fuck you - not that many of my crew are human, but I suspect that the commander of the local Battleplate would take offence - not to mention our God Emperor, what with you presuming to stand judgment over his people."

The general broadcast paused, then, as coordinate data was added to the carrier wave, "Ah, yes; the local Battleplate - that would be the thirteen kilometer across light-grey triangle presently residing 90 million kilometers below us - you may have noticed the rather large FTLi field it's generating. Anyone thinking of starting a fight would do well to realise that, even without jumping closer, you are all well within the KHGV Sword of Inevitible Justice's powered missile envelope. This, of course, excludes such things as our orbatal and surface-based weapon-emplacments.

"And, just to make things perfectly clear, yes; for the duration of these.. 'tensions', the RSS Centurion is hearby under the formal protection of the Dominion of Kanuckistan.

"Fenwick out."


OOC:
Just to clarily, the 'plate's FTLi is only 20 MSK in radius - it doesn't come anywhere near Earth or any other ship involved in this thread; it's just to help ward off sneak attacks against the 'plate.

OOC: Mini Miehm, you can ignore that post then, except the part where my ships lock yours in tractor beams.

IC:

The Makaarians maintained radio silence for a moment, before broadcasting a message to the Makaarian Space Station in the area to send their Super Heavy Dreadnought, the HMMS Undefeatable.

Then, they broadcasted a message to the Toth:

"Unidentified craft, this is the HMMS Settler, acting on behalf of the Makaarian Assembly. We do not want a violent end to this situation, but be warned. Makaarian Stellar Naval ships are heavily armed for their size. We have already called the strongest class of vessel available to us here. We do not respond well to threats, and your presence here is threatening enough. We have scanned your vessel and we understand its tactical power, but be warned - this is one ship that won't go down without a good fight."

The Makaarian ships disengaged their tractor beams on the Mini Miehm fighters, diverting the power back into their shield matrices.

RSS Centurion

One moment, Olliver had been standing near the Ops Station, seeing if the Vi2oians offer was feasible to his ship, the next he, along with the rest of the Bridge crew, was knocked to the floor. He clutched at this head, mouth open but no sound coming out, his mind racing but seeing nothing, feeling nothing but intense, searing pain. In the middle of this thought process, a single, powerful message came into being, pushing aside all others, almost taking on a physical form to his temporarily-tortured psyche;

I am alpha, and Omega. . . I am the begining, and the End. . . I am the judge of humanity, and the executioner of the unworth.

Those who are innocent shall stand aside. . . those who remain threatening shall be destroyed.

Then, it ended as abruptly as it had begun, leaving Olliver with nothing but a searing headache and in a heap upon the floor. He stood groggily, nursing his head and blinking rapidly to try and dispel some of the pain. He failed, miserably. Throughout the Bridge, the other men and women did the same, one holding an arm at an awkward angle where she had fallen whilst standing by her console; a medic, sweat dripping down her face, stumbled through the door to the Bridge and helped her to the medical bay whilst her replacement sat down heavily at her position.

Olliver shook his head; the pain seemed to be slowly receding from his mind, and he could think again...slowly. He focused on the Weapons Station, as the weapons officer bent over his station, and pressed several buttons. The main screen flickered for a moment, then changed to the Port camera to show...something. A massive vessel, seemingly larger than anything Olliver had seen even within the past day during the incident. It towered over every other ship, and the Centurion was miniscule in comparison. Olliver stared at the image for a moment, before muttering to himself. "Impressive...very impressive". He replayed the message that had caused him such pain, and decided on a line of action. "Weapons, take the weapons offline, and make sure we don't look...threatening. We're the innocent ones here, but I don't want to aggrevate that...thing in any way possible." The man nodded, and crouched over his console again...

((OOC: before anyone screams "godmode" contact me via AIM (takamizuna). Anyone who does not contact me, and rather vomits over the forums with "OMFG INGORED GODMODDER!!!" will be smited))

Toth smiled quietly in his tube, and reached out a hand across the warp. There were no communications displays, there were no warnings. He simply reached and grasped one of the fighters. A cruel smile on his sleeping face, he squeezed.

There was no sound, there was no flash, no energy, no weapons registering at all. Only a flicker of the runes at the bottom of the ship and a strange energy pulse like a great rift opening. The fighter, one of Mini Miehm's ships, transmitted only a brief cry, before it crumpled in on itself like a dragonfly meeting a high caliber bullet. A flicker, and the fighter died on the Mini Miehm's tactical readout, the only answer Toth would send to the question.

* * * * * *

Toth turned his attention to the Makkar ship, reaching through the shielding and brushing the mind of a coms officer. The man convulsed and fell to the ground, speaking in a strange language. After a few moments, the words condenced into an understandable tounge.

"we are the Takian Empire, decendants of Lilith and Adam, the Chosen people of God. Our high Prince has accended the Sephiroth and remains mortal to Guide our illustrious race to full assention. You are to keep your weapons powered down. . . failure to comply will result in the deaths of your entire crew or the destruction of your ship."

As soon as it had begun, the man stopped convulsing and lay on the floor, a thin trickle of blood from his ears, nose, mouth, and eyes. He coughed, and stired, shaken but otherwise unharmed.

* * * * * * *

The Kanukistani Captain felt a sensation much like a pin prick on the back of his neck. His vision seemed to swim for a moment and when it cleared, he found himself on a great marble street. Before him, a great ship lay on the ground, aging and obviously unopperational, it was still regal and majestic. Before him, people bowed in all manner of dress. He caught sight over the wave of people, of the dress of his land, as well as the garb of other nations he was familure with. Humans and non-humans alike bowed, and among the throngs of bowing people, winged beings strode through with fiery blades in thier hands. At intervals, they would stop and glare at the people, sometimes walking on, othertimes striking out with a blade to kill the cowering beigns. A voice speaks from the ship, seeming to plunge dirrectly into his mind.

"All will be judged by my hand. . . all will be found worth of accention, or will be slain. Stand down, or the blood of your people shall stain your hands."

His vision swam again, and he found himself back on his ship. The power was out and it appeared to have been raked from the inside with small arms fire. All around the ship, his crew lay dead, some so far as to have been nailed to the cieling, the walls, or the floor with strips of silvery metal. He blinked a few times, and the scene vanished, leaving him in the safety of the unharmed bridge.

* * * * * *

Sagami staggered onto the bridge of the Centurion, the scar on his face bright red, almost glowing. It stood in odd contrast to his hair and pale face.

"Toth. . ." he said simply "Isn't known for sublty or mercy. Should this heat up, my presence assures you and the Vi2o will not be seen as enemies. . . though it would be wise not to test that theory."

Another message from the Centurion was sent by the still groggy Comms officer to the Vi2oian vessel:

With the arrival of this latest vessel, departing would seem to be an act that might well...provoke it into actions that would be unwanted by all parties. I thank you for the offer and understand it; however, I would suggest staying in your position at the moment, as I believe that this situation may soon be at an end with the arrival of this latest vessel.

Harris felt like he was having a bad dream. A routine patrol had turned into an effort to make first contact. Well, that had indeed made first contact, and second, and third, and forth, and so on. With the arrival of this new vessel, he decided to stand his ground no matter what Olliver had decided. This was getting unpredictable. His 'escort home' had now warped into they system and defensively flanked the Pioneer ready to assist it flee along with the Centurion.

Harris now would not make that move, "...especially with the arrival of God himself! Comms, notify DS27 that God has come here and is about to judge me." Harris yelled across the bridge, throwing his hands up. "Beta shift, you are relieved." he said in a much more calm voice. The entire bridge crew with the exception of Ford, and Harris got up and left the bridge as the next shift filled their spots.

"We will wait." Stated Harris, to which Ford replied with a nod.

"Get that man to the infirmary!" cried the captain. A marine quickly picked up the man, using his medkit to wipe the blood from his face, and move him into the lift.

The captain turned back to the viewscreen, looking at the huge battleship. "Any suggestions?" he asked his crew.

"First thing they teach you at the Academy," his first officer said, standing as she spoke. "Never trust an omnipotent being."

"I don't remember that on the Academy curriculum," the captain smiled. "Very well. Cut power to weapons, but have them on standby. Bring them up as soon as that ship starts firing. Divert all available power to shields. Order the fleet to do the same."

He turned to the replacement comm officer. "Midshipman, open a channel to that..." he pointed to the ship on the viewscreen. The comms officer entered some commands, before turning and nodding.

"This is the HMMS Settler to the...ship dead ahead of us. We wish to avoid conflict. But, if possible, we would like you to give us more information. Where are you from, and for what power do you work?"

The viewscreen flickered with an incoming transmision, far more mundane than the theatrics earlier. A green liquid tube with a humanoid being floating in it appeared on screen. His form was obscured, but wires and leads connected him to the ceiling and floor. A voice filled the room, seeming to come from the speaker systems, but also from the very control pannels, floors, walls, and ceiling, as if the entire ship were vibrating, and indeed the entire ship vibrated and echoed with his words.

"I am Toth, Inquisitor and Godship of the Takian Empire, High admiral of the Takian Armada, segmentus Terra. I am the son of the God Prince Taka, formed in my flesh body from his geneseed and formed in my steel body from his mother's womb."

The captain nodded. "And...can you give us any reason why you are here? What your purpose is? Is your power without limits?"

He gave a signal to his science officer, who proceeded to commence heavy scanning of the vessel.

Harris jolted in his seat with an idea, startling the tence commander next to him. "Ford, what was the purpose of this mission?"

Ford blinked. "Well, to make first contact... it was intended to be a diplomatic-"

"Exactly!" Exclamed Harris, "Diplomatic. This is a diplomatic ship. Lets have a diplomatic meeting on board this diplomatic ship."

Soon after, a sub-space communication was sent over all bands in all known languages.

"This is Captain Will Harris of the VSV Pioneer. I am offering to all commanders present at this location to report aboard my vessel, representing their nation for a meeting to bring peace through words instead of acts of force. This will benefit us all by not only sparing lives, but so we all can come to an agreement and welcome the RSS Centurion into space on its first voyage, as we all came here to initially do. To explore. Harris of the Pioneer, out."

The scanners groped the ship, running down it's diagnostics. Within seconds, schematics appeared on screen along side the tubed figure. They indicated long rows of weapons batteries across the sides, along with heavier energy weapons mounted across the spine and ventrical. The bow housed row upon row of torpedeos and smaller craft along the belly looked to be fighter wings. However, many sections of the ship were incomprehencible, illogicaly set out and utilizing spacial mechanics that seemed impossible. All around, the messurments of the ship did not add up. The interior of the ship was three times the volume that the exterior allowed, and the armor appeared to be at the same time thirty miles thick and as thin as paper. Other such logical inconsistancies added up, the most striking of which being the runes on the bottom. Though they cleary shined, they gave off neither photon or any other detectable energy source. . . most disturbing of all, however, is that the power systems seemed to be routed through the green tube on the viewscreen itself.

Toth Stired.

"I come only to protect the weak and judge the evil. My power is not unlimited, but more than enough to strike down a mortal such as yourself and any here. Only my father, Lord God Prince Taka, can be stronger than I."

*****
The voice penetrated through Sagami's mind, wispering his mission to him. He nodded quietly and pulled anouther sheet of plastic from his suit, tapping it and begining to read over it.

"I have been informed that we are to hold a diplomatic conference, as such, I have been gratned temporary promotion to field marshal to sign into law any such treaties that benifit our nation." He said it as if such a thing were common place, reading over a data slate of the various nations that would be attending.

The captain ended the transmission. "Report," he said to his science officer.

"Sir, that ship...it's an impossible design!" the science officer said. "Totally impossible. But very heavily armed. We would need an entire fleet of SH Dreadnoughts to even be a match for that ship."

The captain nodded. "Let's call one in then. Send out an emergency distress signal, call for the 1st Stellar Fleet. That should even the odds up a bit."

The comms officer who had been incapacitated earlier entered the bridge a few moments later, and resumed his seat. He was shaken, and there were still blood stains on his uniform, and he sat down without saying anything.

The captain pushed a button on the intercom. "This is the bridge to all hands. Evacuate the cargo bays, the recreational facilities, the storage decks and the antimatter storage bays. We're about to shunt power from life support in those areas to the shields. If that is your station, head for engineering. The chief engineer will tell you what to do."

He turned to his science officer. "When those sections read as having no one in them, turn off life support and activate emergency forcefields to stop anyone venturing in."

(OOC: KK. Thanks. I'm gonna stick with my old ship and crew. I'll get started soon.)

RSS Centurion

Olliver stood by the Comms station yet again; he seemed to almost be tied to the station, reliant on it as if for oxygen, as if he could not live without it. He had just been informed that the Hercules had engaged an unknown enemy vessel close to Earth and would not be available to aid him; indeed, apparently Commander Yates was calling for all possible reinforcements to his position. Olliver was tense; Yates was an old friend, and not being able to come to his aid irked him.

At the sound of light footsteps behind him, he turned irritably to the alien Sagami, who held in his hands another of those plastic sheets that had more writing flowing gently across it. The alien spoke briefly,

"I have been informed that we are to hold a diplomatic conference, as such, I have been gratned temporary promotion to field marshal to sign into law any such treaties that benifit our nation."

Olliver nodded impatiently, his forehead creased with tension; at last some progress was being made, and this whole horrible situation might end. He could dream, after all...

((OOC: before anyone screams "godmode" contact me via AIM (takamizuna). Anyone who does not contact me, and rather vomits over the forums with "OMFG INGORED GODMODDER!!!" will be smited))



OOC:
First, I don't have AIM; IM programs have never worked with my PC for some reason, although no one can figure out why. So don't complain about the physicly impossible.

Now, from the look of things, it's almost a certainty that the ASPEW field would have prevented you from being able to pull it off, but for the sake of keeping the thread moving, I'll say that the primary generator, being a newly installed, latest generation system, wasn't quite up and running yet, and the 500 year old backup wasn't.. comprehensive enough to stop you.

Considering that one of their primary functions is to prevent what you just tried to do, it seems like a reasonible comprimise.

If you disagree, take it to TG.


Oh, and I(rather embarisingly) misread that first 'Toth' message; specificly the method of transmission. I thought it was a conventionally broadcast thought, not a psionic transmission. I shouldn't even have known you made it, what with ASPEW always up.

Ah well; I'll just say a standard 'whisker' probe had a psionic transciver; easier than rewriting history.

IC:

Crew turned as their commander suddenly gasped, eyes wide; the rabbit-like captain's buck-tooth snarl one of raw fury. That self-rightous alien bastard out had violated his mind! He felt like he'd been raped!

"ASPEW fields! Online, NOW!"

"S-sir? They ar-" The vulpine crewman confused, frightened at seeing his captain so shaken, so suddenly.

"The new ones, damnit!" Drake cursed, sighing as his repeater registered the field fully green; fundimental reality, space and time, radicly altered - even more so now than by the ancient effectors.

It has taken all his nerve not to empty his magizines at that presumptuous pseudo-godling.

Relaxing slightly, griping his armrest to try and stop the persistant quiver in his hands, he closed his eyes and slowed his breathing; opening them several seconds, and a breif conversation with the Admiral, later, via his neural lace's Contextual Thermal Entanglment node.

"Take us to full combat alert; the works, but don't lock them up with fire-control. And get me a channel..."

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

It took mere moments for Standing Barrier Fields to reach full power; her massive spinal cannons moments more as conversion reactors spun up to full military power, and swarms of drones deployed - a web of sensor and info-warfare probes encompasing near-earth space. Fighters launched and swarmed around the Frigate's general location, even as she blurred, vanishing across the spectrum, from mass-detectors utterly, position skewed horribly even on probability sensors and things more exotic; from hyperspace, substace, temporal sensors, and all things beyond 3-space, she was better than invisible - ASPEW insured that, relative to those, she didn't physicly exist.

Active scans were light, however, and only from the drones; such things as actives impossible to hide, and invisibility was the best of all defences - unlikly, in this case, to work, but worth trying nonetheless, and fully dampened reactionless drives added an evasive random-walk to the list, while IW drones filled space with false readings.

It was a drone that relayed Drake's next message, transmitted via the CTE network all drones used; secure, untracible...

"Attention aparently agressive pseudo-godling; your actions constitute Mental Assault, a felony tantamount to rape under Kanuckistani law, and if performed in an offical capasity as a representitive of your government, could constitute an act of war.

"This being a first contect scenario, I am... prepared to overlook that. However, Earth being our homeworld, I will requior you to withdraw to a distance of no less than fifteen million kilometers from the planet, and aproach no further, to demonstrate your non-hostile intentions.

"We have no desire to start a war, but we will not be cowed by strangers in our own homes. Fenwick out."

((OOC: Fair enough, my e-mail is takamizuna@gmail.com, if you could, e-mail me exactly what the ASPEW shields do before you reply again, I'd like a feel for what I'm dealing with. I'd also like to give you a rundown of exactly what the Godships are. . . I hope you are up to date on the Kabbalah.))

Toth frowned as the large ship vanished and it's warning came from deep space. With an irritable grumble he activated the traditional transmition systems and sent a single tight burst transmission to the probes.

"You are a cowardly race, high and arrogant in your ways. You have been judged unworthy, but it is not my place to cull your pitiful species from this galaxy. In good time, Azreal shall come and reduce your proud species to a specter that haunts the wastes and forgotten past. Know and be warned, Kanukistan, thee will be found lacking on Judgment day. As for your pitiful whimperings and demands, we shall remain in present orbit untill such a time when hostilities are at an end. At this time, a call for diplomatic treatis has been issued, attend, and amendments for this. . . so called crime, shall be issued then and there."

As quickly as it had started, it stopped, and the massive ship proceded to simply stay in a stationary orbit

The Pioneer and its fleet remained drifting in its defencive position near the Centurion, waiting for something to happen. A channel opened from the Pioneer, again on all channels.

"Attention all vessels, if you do now wish to reply and come aboard the Pioneer for a conferance, I believe it would be wise if we all simply left and allowed the Centurion to complete its tests. I would have left by now, if it haden't been for some hostile actions requiring me to defend the Centurion if a weapon happened to find its way over here, as one already has." He said the last sentence through clenched teeth. The channel closed.

"Hail the Centurion again, comms."

"Aye, channel open."

"Centurion, this is the Pioneer. We can warp you anywhere you like and simply flee from this area, or we can stay here and have a conferance if that is agreed to by other nations. If it is not, however, what do you intend for us to do? Harris out."