NationStates Jolt Archive

Taskforce XVI, In Orbit Over Kerris V

The massive bulk of the taskforce's command carrier hung threateningly over the capital city of the large jungle world, miles up. The lightly armed craft was bristling with tubes ready to launch hundreds of small drop pods, the first wave of Task Force XVI. The bridge was bustling with officers organising DZ's, checking supplies and interpreting orbital scans. This was it. In ten minutes the invasion of Kerris V would begin, with three hundred drop pods landing at various points, each one carrying a squad of 20 men.

In the main pod loading bay, the Colonel in charge of the first wave was talking to the men of wave 1.

"In five minutes you will all be in the atmosphere of this planet, dropping down on these bastards like a rain of steel. Why? Because the fucking savages on that planet overran our colony. Fuck them. You see someone carrying a gun down there not wearing Taskforce XVI camo? Shoot 'em. This is no time to be pansying around. You'll all be home by Christmas next year anyway, you might as well get some kills while your here, right? Go get 'em. One more thing, you have to prove to these navy pansies that there's a reason the government sent you in!"

6,000 voices echoed out:

"Yes sir!"

An embedded journalist walked up to Colonel Walters.

"What are the speakers on the drop pods for?"

"Music. We use Wagner. My boys love it. It scares the hell outta' the enemy. Get to your pod, the first wave's going down in two minutes. I'll see you there!"

The colonel loaded the massive pistol he carried, put on his helmet and walked to the nearest pod. Soon everyone was loaded up and ready to go. With an incredible noise like a gunshot magnified a thousand times, the pods all screeched towards the surface. All anyone in the capital and the surrounding jungle heard before the invasion was upon them was Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries.

Within ten minutes of the pods landing, the capital was subdued. The enemy forces had spotted the command carrier and fled the city, moving to positions in the dense jungle. A squad of troops, led by Walters, captured the city's main broadcast tower. They sent one signal:

"Command Carrier Retribution, this is Wave One. Send in the dropships, we've captured the capital. Repeat, Wave One a success. Proceed to Wave Two."

The signal was incredibly strong, blocking out the Retribution's com systems for five minutes.

OOC: Is this open?

[Yup. Oh, cookie for whoever spots the blatant quotes from this.]

The Demos, a Hadrian Class (http://img88.imageshack.us/img88/9070/destroyerdraft0dq.png) destroyer, pushed through the vacuum of space in search of opportunistic mining planets for the Kingdom. As part of the Exploration Department, the Demos had to search uncharted systems for suitable mining planets. The craft was not the largest in the Royal Navy, but at 472 meters, it was still quite large. It’s current task was to check out a system that the Kingdom archives knew relatively nothing about.

The Demos was captained by a Centurion named Golin Arema. Arema was a very strict captain who took his job very seriously. Therefore, when a strange signal was detected by the sensory arrays, Arema followed standard protocol of the Navy when encountering unknown peoples.

The signal came from the very system that he was supposed to be checking. After some tweaking with the frequencies, Arema discovered that the signal said: Command Carrier Retribution, this is Wave One. Send in the dropships, we've captured the capital. Repeat, Wave One a success. Proceed to Wave Two.

“Whatever that means,” grumbled Arema. He did not like what he heard. If there was a ship designated as a “command carrier” in the area, it would probably be much larger than the Demos, and Arema would be in a lot of trouble if he was to make these people mad. Still, this was the kind of thing he signed up for when he joined the Exploration Department.

He sent out this transmission to the the location from which the signal came:

This is the Demos of the Kingdom of Astral Romia. Please identify yourself and state your affiliation.

"Music. We use Wagner. My boys love it. It scares the hell outta' the enemy."

OOC: That is so Colonel Kilgore from Apocalypse Now.

The eigth fleet, small for a battlefleet, was conducting routine patrol through the Kerris system. Nothing new for the men, they had done this a thousand times before. The eigth fleet was old and under-used, its only pride coming from its flagship, the Vindicator-class dreadnought Defiant. The rest of the fleet was worn from age, and had only served in one or two conflicts.
Om board the Defiant, Captain Carson Kitna commanded the battlefleet. He was tired, not from sleep, but from boredom. It was boring, just cruising through space. So he was surprised when his sensors officer had anything to say.

"Sir, I'm reading...something unusual."
"Where the hell you gettin that from?"
"Fifth planet in-system."
"Any other readings?"
"No sir, the gamma emissions from this system's star block out a lot of our sensors. Recommend we check it out."
"Might as well. Send comm to the other ships to tell them we're moving."

OOC: That is so Colonel Kilgore from Apocalypse Now.

[Cookie for New Dornalia :D]



This is the Command Carrier Retribution of the Star Command Naval Taskforce XVI, on a mission to restore control of our cities to their proper colonial authorities. THis area is designated a combat arena, do not enter orbit of the fifth planet, the guerilla forces in the jungle have set up weapons batteries, and we're having a hell of a time blasting 'em with nape, but they have a lot of them.

The Retribution's sensors officer also had something to say to his commander.

"We have contacts, hard to see, we have a lot of fuzz coming fro the star but I can make out what appears to be another small fleet."

The captain stood still for a second, thne spoke.

"Send in a recon ship, unarmed, but keep bombers in the air. If they attack the recon ship, have the Taskforce Fleet open fire with all weapons."

"Aye sir. Wave two reported in sir, it seems that their progress has halted. Guerilla forces in the jungle appear to be heavily armed and well supported."

"Get more bombers down their ready to support the troops. If a unit asks for an air strike I want them to get it within five minutes."

"Aye sir."

The Centurion swiveled merrily in his personal commander's chair in the control bridge of the Demos. He liked his chair, which he had labored hard in the academy to attain. He watched the crew members carrying out their tasks below among walls of computers, electronic equipment, and planning tables. Above them were windows out of which the system they were fast approaching could be seen.

Arema’s happiness was cut short by the reply transmission he had received, which he listened to with dismay. Another one lost, he thought. Oh God, the irony. It is just my luck that I happen to stumble on a system right when another party beat me to it. I am living a cursed life. The Centurion had never been able to establish a colony in any of the systems he had explored for one reason or another.

The priorities now shifted from potential colonization to learning about this force he had found.

“Jager, run checks for ‘Command Carrier Retribution’ and ‘Star Command Naval Taskforce XVI’,” ordered Arema, his disappointment evident in his voice. “Alert me to any relevant matches.”

The Centurion slouched in his chair, swiveling slightly from side to side and contemplating the futility of his work. Finally, the man named Jager said “No matches, sir. The archives bring up nothing.”

Arema now had the task of gathering information on these people. He would leave up to the proper authorities what to do about these new people after he concluded his investigation. Whether they would want to open up to these people, he did not know. Arema began issuing his orders.

“Move towards the fifth planet in this system, but stay a fair distance away. We only need to be far enough away to closely monitor the event.”

As the Demos closed in, the fifth planet came in to view. “Show me some views of the telescopic sensors,” Arema ordered sternly. On a screen near the front of the control bridge, several views were being panned through. All of them showed different views of the planet, but nothing too interesting. Suddenly, one of them appeared that showed a very large ship. Below the ship, quick, dim flashes of light could be seen by the sensitive cameras. This is apparently the battle of which the transmission warned, thought Arema.

“Continue moving in,” ordered Arema. “Meanwhile, send out some G-7 droids. I know the transmission warned for nothing to go in the area, but I wouldn’t mind if these get blown up. What they can provide will be useful reconnaissance and enough information to warrant an entry on this battle in the archives. While this is going on, I will be sending a transmission back to the Retribution.”

The crew below scrambled to fulfill their captain’s orders. Meanwhile, Arema sent out this transmission:

Attention authorities commanding the Retribution Command Carrier. I am Golin Arema, captain of the Demos and representing the Kingdom of Astral Romia. I would like to have an audience with you either via transmission or us meeting personally. This will be when you have a moment for it, of course, as I see you are quite busy right now. The aim for this meeting will be to learn more about each other and set the basis for good relations between our two peoples in the future. I look forward to meeting you.

Meanwhile, eight G-7 droids were emitted from Demos. The droids were small, spherical units covered in cameras, sensory arrays, and various appendages that could reach out and collect samples. The droids sped ahead of the ship and entered the battle area on Kerris V. The droids sent out continuous signals explaining that they meant no harm and were simply present to collect data for the Kingdom archives.

Revolving the Second Planet

"Sir, we have fighters, permission to engage?"
"Negative, they're just scouts, John."
"What if they start active scans of us?"
"We'll deploy droids and tell them to bug off. No other comms have come through as of yet."
"Where they comin' from?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. Could be those "wierd" sensor readings you were getting from the fifth planet."

The fleet continued its slow manuever around the second planet in-system as the scout neared the battlefleet.

"Um, sir, he's not turning around..."
"Launch five droid fighters, see if we can scare him."

Out of the main bay deployed five Droid Pursuers, the lightest Federation fighters. The droids squawked relays back to each other before deploying in battle formation, wings locked.

"John, send him a comm telling him to turn around from where he came."
"Done, sir."

Baker Company of the 1st Light Infantry had just rooted out a large group of guerillas who were dug in at the fringes of a clearing int he dense jungle when they spotted the buzz droid.

"Sarge! Incoming, looks like some kind of assassin unit, the damn thing's got a hell of a lot of claws!"

"Easy there, Parker. Lemme see it."

The two soldiers stalked up to it, buzzing around collecting samples of the area and some of it's less fortunate former combatants.

"Could be. Have Shifty get up here and shoot the bastard."

"Yessir."

Moments later a soldier emerged fromt he undergrowth, apparently Shifty. His name suited him. He was all but crawling, carrying a heavy-looking sniper rifle, most of his face obscured by the hooded ghillie suit he wore.

"Shifty. Take it out, us an AP round."

"Sure."

Seconds later, a single shot rang out in the jungle. The droid exploded, showering the area with debris.

"Good shot, Shifty. No doubt you'll get another medal."

"No dou-"

Shifty's words were cut short by the impact of one of Charlie's biggest guns, the blast killing all but four of the squad. When the medevac carriers arrived, two of those survivors just muttered 'droids!'.

___________________________


The captain of the retribution studied the transmission from the Demos intently. He would be only the third commander in Star Command history to contact an un-known race, the first having discovered the Kerrisite Commandos of Kerris V.

"Captain Smith, we can't wait much longer. Either you commit more men and request reinforcements or you pull out! If you take any longer studying that message from those outworlders they're gonna mutiny!"

"Ha ha, Specialist. We can't lose Kerris V. I have my orders, and SC won't let charlie keep that world even if we lose it this time. We might as well dig in and keep fighting. Commit the rest. Orbitally napalm the are around the capital."

"We have four hundred men out there. Taking into account the losses that would cause that'll leave troop strength on the gound at 160,000, if we're boarded there'll be trouble!"

"Just do it. And tell the outworlders that we can meet in person."

"Aye sir."

Demos, this is Captain Frank Smith of the Command Carrier Retribution. I would be happy to meet you in person. The war can wait. nothing changes here. This is a very exciting opportuinity for me, and I hope for you too. If you wish we could meet at the Star Command listening post on Kerris IV. It's safe, out of the way and much less likely to be hit by a nuke than any ship in the system.

The transmission from Captain Smith was received well in the control bridge of the Demos. Golin Arema addressed his navigators and pilots. “Set a course for Kerris IV. We can wait in orbit there until they are ready to receive us. Meanwhile, I need to go make some preparations.” The Centurion left his post at his chair to go make sure his uniform was in order. While in his office, Arema sent out this transmission:

Thank you, Captain Smith. I will gladly come to your meeting. My ship is moving in to orbit over Kerris IV, so I will be ready whenever you are.

Meanwhile, back on the planet, the seven remaining droids hovered around. The death of their friend had alerted them to stay away from the soldiers. The droids watched the action from a distance. Their sensors detected temperature and recording atmospheric composition, along with other information. If they encountered dead bodies, they would occasionally take a blood or tissue sample.

Back on the Demos, one of the droid analysts was examining the information being sent back by the droids. He decided to listen in on a droid that had hovered near some people. After all, it might reveal something about their language if they happened to be speaking at the time. Instead what he heard was an opera.

"No word from the bogey scout?"
"No sir, no responses. He's too close to get interfered by gamma emissions from the star."
"Pop a few shots at him and let's see what he does."
"Righty, sir, droids have the message."

In space, the droid fighters recieved the message and locked onto the Retirbution's scout craft. Sqawking in droid languages, the fighters extended their gun ports and rattled off a long burt of laser fire, intentionally missing the Retribution's scout craft by only a few meters.

"Re-transmit the message to the scout telling him to leave our perimeter, or that next time he won't leave us alive."
"I'm on it sir. Wonder why he's not buggin' off?"
"Too curious for his own good. The fourth and fifth planets are habited, maybe he's from those. If he is, he better go back to 'em before his body parts are strewn through the void of space."
"Nice analogy sir."
"Thank you, commander."

The gunfire aimed at the scout craft got the message through, but not in a good way.

"Retribution this is How Charlie Mike, we have presumed unfriendlies in the area. I have them marked for the bombers. Should be on your screens now."

"Roger that How Charlie Mike, fire support is on it's way. Get back to your carrier."

"Roger that retribution, Hotel Charlie Mike proceeding to carrier."

Five minutes later the heavy bombers of Taskforce Sixteen inched towards the presumed hostiles. Above the constant radio chatter being fired off in all directions was one signal directed at the unidentified fleet:

Unidentified unfriendly craft. You have ten minutes to leave the sovereign territory of the United Terran Colonies. Failure to leave before this deadline will result in your fleet being marked as King Charlie support craft, and as such legal targets as defined in the Rules of Engagement. Respond.
_________________________
The bridge of Retribution hadn't gotten any calmer since wave Five. The problem with the unidentified fleet was using up valuable tactical officers and bomber crews, interrupting the carpet bombing of the Kerrisite jungle. Retribution had been moved into position above Kerris IV, and a shuttle was dispatched to the listening post.

Astral Romia craft, we're ready to meet now. proceed to the location of the radio beacon and a group will meet you on the ground. Careful though, it's.... Cold.

On the surface of Kerris IV, it had hit -15 degrees centigrade for the third time in the month. The three officers assigned to meet the aliens were standing in the cold, shivering.

"Goddamn! These people better be important."

"Damn right. Still, the captain thinks this is important."

"More important than wiping out that godforsaken jungle? I think not."

"Okay, shut up now."

As Arema was finishing the preparations for his uniform, a subordinate came and informed him that they were ready for the meeting to begin. Arema walked through the halls of the ship and into his shuttle. The doors into the shuttle closed and it prepared for departure.

The Demos was drifting through space in orbit over Kerris IV. The silence was punctuated by a hiss of gas being released from pressure valves. From bottom of the Demos slowly dropped the shuttle. The shuttle was a simple cylindrical craft that was tapered off at one end with a window out of which the pilot could see. As the craft descended a safe distance, a delta wing folded out of the bottom of the craft. A small Romian flag folded out of the top of the shuttle.

The shuttle stayed there in stillness for a few seconds until the rear thrusters fired up and the shuttle began its journey to the designated landing area. As the shuttle descended into the lower atmosphere, sensors indicated that the surface temperature was low. The Centurion took this news not with contempt, but rather with amusement. He would get to wear the uniform the Romian military used in cold theaters. The Centurion liked this, because the winter uniforms had fancy capes, in which he thought he looked quite remarkable.

Arema pulled on the white trench coat and buttoned up the white buttons. He fastened on his cape to the coat’s epaulets, which had three Romian military crosses stiched in them in red to indicate rank. The cape itself was white like the coat and came down to Arema’s ankles. Arema admired himself in the mirror for a few moments. Then he pressed a button on his desk, out of which hovered an XH-4 management droid. After taking off his black tricorn hat, setting a switch in it so that it would warm up, and putting it back on, Arema was ready to venture into the realm of the unknown.

The shuttle zoomed through the cold land intently. When it finally arrived at the designated landing zone, three legs came out of the bottom of the shuttle. The shuttle landed with a metallic creak caused by the shifting of the shuttle’s weight among the three legs. A ramp lowered from just behind the pilot’s area. Out on the ramp marched Arema, his breath visible because of the cold. Arema was a large man who appeared to be in his early thirties. Behind Arema were two other men dressed in the winter military uniform. The only difference between their outfits and Arema’s was that they were wearing a beret instead of a tricorn hat and they only had one epaulet, which was on their right shoulder and had in them only two Romian military crosses stitched. Behind all of them hovered the small, spherical XH-4 droid.

Arema saw the shivering officers and greeted them. “Well, it’s mighty warm out here, isn’t it?” he said jokingly. “Greetings, gentlemen. I am Golin Arema, Captain of the Demos and Centurion in the Royal Army.” He motioned towards the two men following him. “These fine men here are my associates who wish to witness the event. I hope you do not mind them.”

The captain was wearing the jungle fatigues he had been wearing an hour before whilst he was inspoecting the troops. Green, and lots of it, making him stick out like a sore thumb amongst the black-uniformed Taskforce Intelligence Agents.

"Not at all. If you'll follow me, we can talk inside the base. It's not exactly opulent, but at least it's heated. The corporation doesn't like to sponsor the military's opulence."

He walked through the small station to ameeting room. The walls were metal, as was the bare floor. He gestured to some chairs around a (surprise surprise) low metal table.

"Can I get you anything? The military food here is awful, but the drinks are good."

Kitna recieved the message.

"Poor fools...noone messes with a fleet from Admiral Droma's high command...transmit this message back: Enemy fleet, request denied. If you make advancing manuevers on our fleet we will open fire."

Arema and his men walked in to the meeting room of the humble base.

“Well, in that case we would like some drinks,” answered Arema. The room was adequately heated, so he took off his hat and switched its heating component to “off”.

Arema was a little puzzled over the way the walls were covered in metal. Is it not cheaper and more aesthetic to simply coat walls in paint? thought Arema. Maybe these people do not have paint. I should not make such a big deal about it. My mother always said that I was overly critical of others.

"you look somewhat puzzled. Is something wrong?"

what a bizzarre uniform. Looks like something Napoleon might wear, minues the switch. Damn these people are odd. Of course, there's no doubt some big cultural thing over it. Remember, the last two captains in Corporation history to have first contact also started two wars of annihilation. I don't think that my little taskforce could win quite so... Well, at all. Never mind, just get back to talks.

A loud buzzing noise built up, the sound of massive energy banks being prepared to empty.

____________________

"Outsider fleet, this is a Taskforce XVI operational theater, and Weishaupt Nano-Industries territory. Pull out, or we will be forced to respond. This is a high-sensitivity area. You have no business here."

Missile batteries on the first and third planet targeted the alien fleet, whilst energy cannons on the fourth and fifth charged up.

“No, nothing is wrong,” replied Arema.

Arema noticed the captain studying his incredibly handsome uniform. I have a gift for good looks, he thought, I must look as proud and mighty as Napoleon himself.

The buzzing that began slightly annoyed Arema. The acoustics in this room need a lot of attention, although the captain says that the military does not get many funds. I suppose weapons are more important than aesthetics in the long run.

The buzzing was very loud, and try as he might, Arema had little patience for matters like this. “What is that devilish buzzing?”

The captain frowned.

"I'm not sure, but I have a good idea."

A soldier in black stepped into the room, and whispered something into his ear.

"Oh dear. Someone else came intot his system around the same time your people did. They've shown hostility. That's the planetary cannon warming up for a shot. Those bastards'll get a shock. Never mind. We should probably work on interplanetary relations, or something."

“Well,” began Arema, “I suppose it would be best to first learn about each other. Tell me about your people.”

One of Arema’s men pressed a button on the droid. What the droid had just witnessed regarding the captain’s mention of hostile forces was transmitted to the Demos, which prepared for a quick escape if necessary.