NationStates Jolt Archive

The Oz Archipelago:

"'Ear that mate?"

"Whot now? It's empty on these beaches... There's only the sea."

"The spirits mate.... The spirits..."

"You're nutters, there ain't nothing out there but the birds in the jungle and the damned ocean.

Two men sat in complete darkness on the beach. It was difficult to make out their features. It was dark after all. But one of them was wearing a necklace of shark teeth, the other a bush hat. Both of them had huge knives strapped to their belts and SKS rifles on the sand besides them. Both of them were on watch duty as well, and it was getting rather boring, hence explaining the other guy seeing spirits of some sort. SOMETHING had to keep them both awake, and they weren't about to discuss quantum physics... Even if their limited formal education didn't prevent them from comprehending the complexities of quantum physics, their other thoughts would. Like their future. Thinking about the future usually kept people's minds off of quantum physics, never mind that the study of quantum physics usually involved the concept of future.

The ocean was empty, like it usually was. Not many bothered to stop by in these small islands, 8,000 kilometers from the next landmass. Maybe the occasional lost fishing boat, or tourist. And of course, the Lizards. Big, huge lizards. They swam the oceans in clusters of twelve to twenty. They weren't pests, they kept the whales, seals and sharks away from the more valuable fish, like the tuna or the herring. And they were always friendly. But when one of them, or at least one of their representatives turned up on shore one day.... things changed. For the better or for the worse, nobody knew.

She was blonde, with a necklace of orca teeth. Her skin was a rich olive brown, tanned by the sun. And she crawled out of the ocean, having swam all the way from the ocean's floor. There were talons instead instead of hands and feet and rows of teeth sharp as razors. She came up, swishing her tail behind her, carrying a titanium briefcase, which was crushed by the water pressure on the bottom. The briefcase held oceanographic reports, surveys of the sea floor. There was oil there. The soldiers, the King's men, took the visitor to the palace. And there.... the King and sat listened.

King George III of the Oz Archipelago. Lean, tanned and balding. Smoking a fine cigar that cost more than most of his people would make in a year. His people weren't exactly starving, in fact, they had plenty to eat and drink. It was just that they produced nothing of economic value. Who the hell wanted to go to Oz of all places? Maybe your occasional wealthy pseudo-bohemian, but that was it. Otherwise, there were few foreigners in Oz and fewer foreign economic opportunities. Now this stranger.... this... freak with a tail offering him a window to the world.... But the window....

"No, no, I just can't allow it. It would bring too much change to our society..."

The visitor nodded.

"Fair enough then. I'm only an engineer, I'm not really in position to strike a deal. If you ever change your mind though, I can leave you a phone number you can call."

The stranger disappeared into the waters whence she came, leaving King George with a dilemma. If he said yes, untold wealth would greet him. But untold wealth brought problems, it might bring foreign influence, usurpers, conquerors.... George debated with himself for hours... days... about his course of action.

Then, one day, he picked up the phone.

"Yes. I would like to speak with the head of of Pwnage Oil."

"One moment please."

The next thing he knew, the waters off of the small archipelago teemed with oil prospectors, engineers, and more of those lizards, this time carrying huge steel girders and drillbits instead of fish. Foreigners began to put their houses in the archipelago, exposing the natives to new and radical inventions and concepts. Mostly it was internet porn though, but the islanders were shocked at how big the outside world really was. Many were also shocked to learn that their King really wasn't God's representative on Earth, but they kept it to themselves, lest a gang of armed men did something violent to them.

Which leads us back to the two men standing guard on the beach. As the King's soldiers, they were supposed to protect and uphold the King's rule.... but they had doubts. And this new free will thing they were hearing about.... What was THAT all about?

~*~*~*~

Daducheng, MassPwnage, the Great Leader's Palace

"So.... they seem to be receptive to incorporation into MassPwnage?" The Great Leader Li played with a koosh ball. The thing was bigger than a basketball, but it fit the large reptile's hands perfectly.

"Yes... I assume so." One of his advisors, another Lizard nodded.

"Well... I'm going to treat this as a warlord situation, Maia should know what to do." Li kept fiddling with the koosh ball, pulling at its rubber strings, shifting it from hand to hand.

"I would assume so. You raised her well."

"Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other affairs to attend to."

The advisor left.

Oil was a precious commodity to a Sarzonian. The landmass Sarzonia was located on had it in very limited supply, and thus the nation was forced to import significant quantities to provide necessary power. As much as possible, Sarzonia relied on alternative fuel sources such as nuclear power plants for electricity or hybrid automobiles.

The government continued efforts to develop (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=447806) other power sources, oil was still tough to dislodge. All of that was on the mind of Benatar Petroleum CEO Jeffrey Lanier as he was searching for ways to find more oil for his people ... and for his pockets.

His son, Charley Lanier was a captain of a squadron of BP ships that were just back from a six month expedition throughout Atlantian Oceania that once again failed to strike oil. Charley Lanier walked off the docks at Nicksia and went back home. He knew he had to get underway again in another month, so he wanted to milk whatever he could out of his time on shore.

Unlike his money-hungry father, Charley's biggest problem wasn't seeing dollar signs. He was far more interested in glory. He didn't care if he died penniless as long as people 100 years from now would still have his name on their lips. By itself, it was an annoying trait, but combined with his father's lust for money and power, the combination of the two Laniers working together at BP were a combination that could either bring the company to new heights or tear it down worse than what PIW had to go through.

Finally, it was time to go. He kissed his wife and children goodbye and went down to the dock to board his ship. The Forty Nine lay there waiting for its captain and her crew to board the ship and meet up with the squadron that was to rendevous with it.

"So Cap'n, where haven't we gone in this Godforsaken dump of a region we're in," his First Mate Lane Hodgkins asked. Hodgkins was an honest man, almost too honest at times. He had to be the best paid of anyone on the ship, even surpassing Charley's earnings. The fact that Hodgkins was sitting on an array of secrets that would have brought down BP was killing him. But conscience has a poor way of conflicting with a man who had to put food on the table. And there weren't a lot of jobs available to people like Lane Hodgkins, whose only education came on the waves.

*********************************************

The severing of economic ties with MassPwnage didn't mean a huge amount to Sarzonia, even with the Panic of 2006 sending a once robust economy into the toilet. But the loss of cheap condoms and inexpensive, but high-quality pornography on the Sarzonian market certainly wasn't a loss to be trifled with. For their part, the Sarzonians provided tourist dollars that buttressed the MassPwnage sex industry with liberated sex laws that put Sarzonia's to shame.

The impact of the loss of trade between two minor trading partners was more keenly felt by the business communities. The price of sex-related items skyrocketed considering that one of the best price controls was now considered contraban. Meanwhile, the Pwnage sex market might have revelled in the increase in business from nations like Generic Empire, but they likely still lamented the loss of revenue from thousands of Sarzonians.

Still, Jeffrey Lanier had a couple of contacts in MassPwnage with whom he was trying to figure out a way to reopen trade, if not legally via means of convincing Sarzonia to restore economic ties, through nefarious means. He was also a minor partner in a distribution plant that relied heavily on Pwnage-made condoms, so restoring that market was vital to BP interests.

"Hey Kyle," he said as his phone rang in his private office.

"How's it going Jeff?"

"Pretty good. What do you got for me?"

"Here's an item in the back of the news section here." Lanier raised an eyebrow. Usually the goings on in Pwnage newspapers were of little interest to him. Truth be told, the goings on in Sarzonian media held little interest for him unless they were after his fortune. Then it became a problem he'd have to deal with.

"Says here there's a possibility of oil in some Godforsaken island."

"Get on it. Right away!"

"You got it."

Kyle wasn't a big shot in the company by any means, but he usually figured out how to read the tea leaves when he was sent to other countries. That's how he was able to close on deals in places like the Kalifah al Mussilmeen. That's why he was so valuable to Jeffrey Lanier. He had to find an in with a Pwnage who was in the know so he could give the information to BP.

He figured he knew the two best ways to get info from a Pwnage: Sex and money. Either option was available to him. As long as he didn't have to promise more money than he had, he was up for almost any monetary transaction he could make that would line his boss's pockets. As for sex, he was straight, but he was willing to challenge his boundaries if that would get him needed info. Or save him some of his boss's money.

*********************************************

"Laner, we aren't going anywhere in the region."

"Beg yer pardon Cap'n?"

"We're going to a far off little place called The Oz Archipelago."

"What?! I only signed on for a two month journey. Connie's about to go through her A-Levels!"

"Look closer at your contract little buddy," Charley said. "You're signed up for a year. And you can't get out of this contract or little Connie's gonna haveta work full time at the diner."

"You son of a bitch."

Charley held up his hand with a smug little smile.

"The money's real good. Better than any trip you've ever had before. You go through with this trip and Connie can go to the prom without borrowing money from your parents."

Hodgkins was left there to stew for a moment, but it was too hard to ignore the money. If it weren't for him, he and his wife wouldn't be able to put food on the table and his parents weren't getting any younger.

Guess I'd better get going, he thought sombrely.

*********************************************

Two months later, he and his squadron had come upon an unusual chain of islands and it wasn't long before he received the news that was music to his ears.

"There be oil here!"

Of course there was oil there. In the two months it took for the Sarzonians to sail to Oz, Pwnage engineers had already begun putting down platforms. They were only half finished at this point, because these platforms were of the bigger, more complex type, designed to float over deep water and drill from there. Didn't want to ruin the beach views after all, and the continental shelves usually yielded precious little oil.

But, the Pwnage engineers weren't allowed to complete their work in peace. The Sarzonians had arrived. Apparently, they knew where to start sinking their wells too.... which was funny, because they didn't even bother to look for oil. This meant that the Sarzonians probably learned where the deposits were... How now? It wasn't every day that the Sarzonians struck oil. So randomly as well. Since the Sarzonians were generally regarded as hostile and anti-Pwnage, that meant that the military was tipped off. Luckily, a small battlegroup was close by. The Pwnage government had deployed it, as well a group of Naval Engineers, to establish a small naval base in the area. There was a bit of strongarming involved, but not much. The engineers had to be protected and in any case, the naval base was not a large one. A few corvettes, patrol boats, light landing craft and stealthy speedboats. Enough to keep pirates from getting to the Pwnage settlements, or the oil platforms.

Hopefully they would be enough to get rid of the Sarzonians. They would, of course, leave a few subtle messages first.

~*~*~*~
"Hold on.... You want me to do WHAT?"

The Marine Colonel was rather puzzled by the request. Certainly, it was unsual. The Area Operations Director's eyes looked like they came from a puppy. They pleaded.

The Colonel did not have soft spot for puppies however. That and he didn't really have the authorization to do that.

"Umm... sorry, I can't start a war all by myself."

"But..."

The Colonel shrugged. "Nothing I can do man... nothing I can do.... Unless..."

The Colonel stretched his hand out, his palm was open and awaiting something.

"Right." The Area Operations Director reached into the pockets of his shorts and came out with a large wad of 10,000 Coin bills. The money, more than a million Coins in all, exchanged hands.

"Now I have solution. I can provide you with a few of the local militiamen, a few of my guys, and maybe a few raiding craft. How big is this squadron?"

"No clue really, we haven't approached them yet."

"Hmm... well, I can do some reconnaissance." The Colonel held his hand out yet again.

The AOD sighed and handed him another wad of cash.

"Good."

~*~*~*

King George was really between a rock and a hard place. His people were growing restless by the day. Luckily, he and his was family were getting all the money, and it was in a nice offshore account. But he could feel the unrest brewing. There was a new chopper sitting on the roof of his new palace. It was gassed up and ready to go.

The Pwnage, they were a bad influence on his people. The people were abandoning their old rituals, they were working less hard, new money meant new things, like television, the internet, the outside world. Some families began to send their children abroad. New things meant a rejection of the old ideas. Ideas like King George. George's militiamen patrolled the streets, broke up meetings of dissidents and arrested people for incitment. But still, there was unrest in Oz. So King George decided to take more drastic action. He had a new law in mind, so he went on television.

"As you all know, I am your King. And as your King, I try my best to provide for all the citizens on the island. But there are traitors in our midst, they try to destabilize the government and remove the blessings that have been given to us recently. Thus, I am enacting a new law. Anyone found guilty of conspiring against the throne will be summarily executed, as they seek to deprive us of what belongs to us.... God bless us all."

Some believed the King, some did not. The effects were yet to be seen. But at least one person was working to bring the King down.

*~*~*~*~*~*
Pwnage Central Command:

"Maia, great news. There's unrest in Oz." An advisor entered Maia's office. Maia herself was sitting on a large poofy cushion, she turned towards the advisor and nodded, her forked tounge flickering in and out.

"Excellent. How's the conversion of the militia going?"

"Not too well really."

"Oh... that sucks. At least there's unrest. Keep me posted. And what's this about Sarzonians that I hear?" The forked tounge snaked back between her well rounded lips.

"Sarzonians...." the advisor stared up at the ceiling, his brow furrowing in an attempt to remember. "Oh right... vessels from Bentar Petroleum were seen attempting to illegally drill for oil."

"Then keep me posted on that too. Tell our military there they can detain the Sarzonians if they continue with their activities."

~*~*~*~*~

2 Months Ago:

Pwnage Hong Kong:

"So... um... Kyle, what was it that you wanted to discuss?" A person in an expensively tailored suit, wire rimmed glasses and a hair gelled into spikes sat at a big desk with folded hands. The man and Kyle were in a standard Pwnage office building a mile above the ground. The view would have been excellent, but the thousands of other buildings sticking into the air like fence pickets blocked it out.

"Well... Chow, I hear that your company found a new and promising oil deposit."

Chow nodded. "You heard right... what about the oil deposit?"

"Could you give me the location, and the survey reports?"

Chow held out his hand, palm outstretched. He was rewarded with a large bundle of doura, thanks to the fact that the Sarzonian dollar was unstable. He counted the money, looking slightly dissatisfied.

"Say... Kyle. I hear your daughter's a real pretty girl. I also hear that she's a real good lay, unless I heard wrong..."

Kyle was now subject to a dilemma. He probably wouldn't regret his decision, whatever it was....

~*~*~

Sometime at Night:

There were a few marines and Ozzie militiamen in a rigid inflatable boat. The marines were covered in a dark, camouflaged thermal blanket. The hybrid motor of the boat was quiet, running on electric only. The marines stared through their nightvision scopes, counting the ships, I.Ding them. They were sweating like pigs in the tropical heat and under the blanket. Ocassionally, they sipped water from their canteens. Disgusting, the water was warm already. They would report back to base later.

ooc: More coming later.

Oz Naval Base:

Rear Admiral Aesa Soloseni Dilistam, commander of the Oz Archipelago Battlegroup rubbed her temples. She was getting rather too old for this. So were the illegal Sarzonian incursions. Dillistam browsed the pictures that the marines under her command had sent her. 6 ships, and a platform that was slowly taking shape. A perfect time to terminate the operation. She brought up the Marine Commander on her vidphone.

Col. John Yu was getting in a quick game of golf when his cellphone rang. He stopped right after a swing and checked the number. Upon doing so, he groaned. It was the Admiral. Can't be good.

"Ah.... Colonel, nice outfit. Definitely not your uniform, but VERY snazzy. I like the plaid."

The Colonel sighed. "What do you want?" he snapped.

"Well, remember those photos of the Sarzonians you sent me? I want you to restore those photos to how they originally were, before the Sarzonians came, you know, with uncluttered views of the horizon."

"Gotcha Admiral." The Colonel was already planning a raid to begin with, it was a good thing that his CO was thinking the same thing. "Yea, I'll assemble my boarding teams. Could you get the corvettes and some of the patrol boats to keep overwatch?"

"I can do that Colonel."

The Oz Battlegroup, if it could be called a battlegroup, was small. The biggest ship was an Iso class Littoral Combat Catamaran, armed with a 76mm railgun and a few VLS tubes. Under it were two Imp class corvettes, a Gremlin class pocket corvette, and 20 Fade patrol boats. The marines had their own landing craft, helicopters and small boarding craft. The Ozzies had a few lend-lease helicopters and ships from the Pwnage government. All in all, it was a pathetically small battlegroup. More assets would be dedicated to the area later, but for now, it was small.

But that wouldn't prevent them from launching a quick nighttime attack on the Sarzonian convoy.

~*~*~

The Assault (Planning):

Somewhere in the Marine Base:

"We're going to take three approaches." Col. Yu pointed at a map. Assembled in front of him were a few of his subordinates, and an Ozzie, who resembled an officer, as he bore some crude insignia on his Akubra hat which marked him off as a captain.

"First approach is by sea. We have two corvettes and ten patrol boats in a V, they're covering the approach to the convoy."

"Now, a team of rigid raiders are going to move up and board the ships. All effort will be made to detain the crew onboard the ships. Nobody fires back unless fired upon. Our helicopters are also going to cover the ships. When the ships are declared cleared, the prisoners will be transferred to the helicopters and taken to the nearest holding facility."

One of the subordinates raised his hand. "Should we give them a chance to leave first?"

The Colonel thought about it.

"Well, I suppose we could offer them a chance to surrender, but only after we begin moving out. I don't want to give them too much warning."

~*~*~*

The Assault (Execution Phase):

The two corvettes and the patrol boats quickly formed up and began moving out, using the islands to block line of sight, and their inherent stealthiness to reduce their detectability versus the civilian radars onboard the commercial ships. The group divided and formed a V. Their high performance gas turbines allowed them to quickly slice through the water as they began to move to the sides of the convoy. At the same time, Ozzie speedboats loaded with militiamen began to move from the islands.

Pwnage helicopters would start their engines when the ships were within visual range and move to quickly establish overwatch.

The Ozzies and the Marines would only start to board the ships if their crews to surrender.

The command to surrender was to be given as the helicopters were in transit. It was as follows:

"You are under arrest in violation of theft and maritime tresspassing laws. Any attempt to resist search and arrest will result in an appropriate force being used."

The helicopters were visibly armed too, they had a 3 barreled 30mm chaingun and twin waist mounted 15.5mm miniguns, as well as an internal missile carriage loaded with goodies.

Even the rigid raiders were armed with machine guns and ATGMs...

[OOC: Uh, MP... the info I gave you OOCly was not to be used ICly the way you did. I suggest you push that back until the first attempted engagement.]

"Shall we begin drilling Captain?"

"No time like the present."

"Aye, sir."

But Charley Lanier somehow knew that time wasn't on his side. He realised that his expedition wasn't the first to arrive here and that he was competing with another nation for oil. He also knew that the chances that he could count on the Incorporated Sarzonian Navy to unquestioningly support his claim, as dubious as he knew it was, on an island chain that he was beaten to by a bunch of unprincipled yahoos were slim at best.

He began pacing the bridge of his ship, realising that it wouldn't be too long before he'd have to pay the piper. But he'd get as much oil as he could and as much money for his dad as possible. He looked out nervously, hoping that the drilling would be well underway before he'd have to deal with the brushfire that was sure to develop.

*********************************************

Vice Admiral Roger Barnham knew that his Eleventh Fleet would be called upon to do something he didn't want. The fleet, commanded by the aging Independence class ISS Renown had just finished a deployment and some of his crew were bored with their assignment.

His fleet had little opportunity to gain glory for the Sarzonian navy or to show the flag even at very many ceremonies. Now the Eleventh Fleet was about to be replaced on its war station by the Ninth Fleet under an eager and ready Rear Admiral Tracey Morgan.

Barnham's lead ship knifed through the waters with its escort fleet in standard formation and he looked out from his cabin at the sight. So many damn ships and not a whiff of excitement he thought.

Little did he know he'd get his opportunity for excitement before very long. But the opportunity he would get would be one that he wasn't sure was the sort of mission his fleet should be undertaking.

ooc: oh sorry there. Yea, i guess I rushed a post in.

ooc: Sarz, please come on AIM or MSN.

The rhythmic whirring involved with drilling for oil was a welcome sound to Charley and to the crew of his flagship. After months of transit and a proverbial wild goose chase to find oil, they had a chance to get some real digging done. Charley looked out at the rig and smiled a small, self-satisfied grin. He was going to get the oil he wanted and his people needed. And, as he knew because of his connection to the boss, BP would widen their profit margin at the expense of the consumer. After all, finding oil for a nation starved of that resource and finding it during a depression was not for the penny pincher.

Charley stared out lazily at the sky at a helicopter in the distance. He paid it no mind. Helicopters were in the air with some regularity in Sarzonia, at least before the Panic of 2006 hit. It was probably just a standard patrol. However, he saw Hodgkins hovering near him with a look of concern clouding his features.

Poor bloke must be worried about Connie again.

"Laner, what's eatin' ya bud?"

"Them helicopters. This chain ain't supposed to have no choppers."

"Huh?"

"Ain't this supposed to be Pwnage land?"

"Says who?"

"Says this 'ere," a master's mate, one of the youngsters who knew too much for his own damn good said as he showed Charley a newspaper. Charley snatched the paper with an irritated scowl directed at the youngster, who immediately diverted his eyes from the piercing glare back to his console.

"Holy shit!"

"What is it now you little snot nosed punk?"

"Listen to this!"

Charley rolled his eyes and took the ear piece from the kid. He was going to give that kid a major talking to, along with night duty for a week once this blew over. However, as soon as he pressed the ear piece to his right ear, his eyes widened.

You are under arrest in violation of theft and maritime tresspassing laws. Any attempt to resist search and arrest will result in an appropriate force being used.
Lanier lowered the ear piece with a look of unmistakeable fear morphing his features from the sneering arrogance he'd shown the master's mate. Now he had a more serious problem on his hands.

"Well, I'll be damned."

"What are we going to do, sir?"

"Get a lock on whatever of theirs we can."

"What are you doing?"

"We're going to give those Pwnage motherfuckers a fight."

"We're not a combat ship!"

"We are now. General quarters!"

"Captain! At least call the ISN!"

"All right. Lane, send the distress signal and encrypt that motherfucker. Weapons teams, mobilise the guns and let's start picking off those assholes. NOW! I want the C and Z machine guns targeting the helicopters and the other machine guns firing on any small craft or people you see. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!"

Charley leaned onto his left knee and rested his chin on his right hand as the elbow cradled itself onto the flesh of his right thigh. His crew certainly weren't expected to go into combat and against law enforcement, his crews didn't do too well. Especially when the Defence Cutter Force launched that raid eight years ago. He fought his ship as best he could, but against trained defence cutter sailors, he was no match.

"We've sent the distress signal. The 11th fleet should be on its way soon."

"How soon?"

"Three hours."

Too goddamn late, he thought.

"All weapons report ready."

Charley sighed. This wasn't in the script. Dad'll kill me, he thought. If these Pwnage cock suckers don't do it first. Finally, after six seconds that must have seemed like six years, he opened his mouth to issue the one order he thought and hoped he never would have to again.

"Fire."

"Oh shit. GET DOWN!"

Col. Yu pulled the Captain and his First Mate down onto the floor as the first 76mm rounds from the Sarzonian merchantman slammed into the bridge of the lead corvette. The half meter thick alumnium oxynitride windows on the bridge saved everyone from getting torn to pieces by the exploding HE-AP shells. The captain rolled over and grabbed the radio dangling from a control panel.

"ALL UNITS RETURN FIRE!" he screamed into the radio. More 76mm shells from the Sarzonian flagship slammed into the superstructure and hull of the corvette, but the corvette's own 76mm ETC was already firing back. A pair of Stilleto anti-ship missiles flew from the ship's vertical launch tubes, sailing towards the Sarzonian flagship. The other corvette was firing as well.

Just because the bridge was heavily armored, didn't mean that there weren't any residual side effects. Colonel Yu took stock of the situation. The Captain and his mate were shaken but physically unhurt. Some of the other crew on the bridge weren't so lucky. The helmsman was pinned to the ship's steering computer with a huge shard of glass from the window. A communications officer was suffering from several smaller pieces of glass which embedded themselves into his torso. Minor flesh wounds. It wasn't serious compared to the young ensign sitting nearby. Her right arm had been torn off at the shoulder by a piece of the bridge glass and blood was rapidly soaking into her uniform.

"You ok?" asked the First Mate.... Oh right... The First Mate realized what he had just said. Of course she wasn't ok.... Now to try and staunch the bleeding... Oh man... The First Mate didn't remember what the heck they taught him in basic first aid. The ensign trembled in front of him, her eyes pleading.

What do I do? thought the First Mate. Unconciously at the same time, he began tearing off his shirt.

Apply pressure... Damn... that's a waste of a good shirt. Somebody get me a fucking medic. The First Mate blinked as the world around him spun around in circles.

Please.... get me a fucking medic.... The ensign was turning cold.... shock. The First Mate pressed down harder. The spinning was causing his world to head sharply off to hell, with all the barking of orders over the radio and gunfire from the outside.

He felt the Ensign's pulse slowly weaken.... Don't die on me damnit...

"GET ME A FUCKING MEDIC!" screamed the First Mate. "GET ME A FUCKING MEDIC!"

Someone came up, someone else pulled the First Mate away. Colonel Yu was barking orders into the communications system. The battle was still on outside. When the Sarzonian merchantmen opened up with their machine guns, the Fade class patrol boats and H-124 Airon helicopters responded with much more devastating fire. Warhammer ERV light anti-ship missiles and electrothermal autocannons. The 37mm ETC cannons on the Fades rapidly tore apart the Sarzonian machinegunners, and the subsquent Warhammers that slammed into the guns themselves wre almost extraneous. Some of the sailors on deck tried to respond with small arms fire, mostly rifles. They were torn to pieces by 15.5mm minigun rounds.

At this point, all the Sarzonian ships were at least on fire. The flagship was the worst off, the two Stilleto anti-ship missiles fired by one of corvettes had caused its ammo stores to explode. The ship was belching out smoke and flames. On the rest of the ships, Marine and Ozzie boarding teams were clearing them out, cabin to cabin. Anyone that resisted was dealt with appropriately, most of the time, having to only be restrained. The sailors were loaded into the lifeboats the ships carried.... Only, the marines noticed that they didn't have enough lifeboats to go around. Great.... Now this would take longer, the sailors would have to be transported in two loads.

Back on the bridge of a corvette, Colonel Yu had calmed down, the situation had been properly handled... Good. The Sarzonians were disturbingly well armed however. The Colonel looked up over his shoulder. The First Mate was soaked in blood and blabbering about something while a seaman was trying to comfort him. The Captain was wrapping up whatever he was doing as well. Colonel Yu radioed back to base.

"Admiral, the hostile targets are secure. What I'm worried about is that they had quite a bit more firepower than expected. I'll get my full report to you as soon as I can. Our losses are rather minimal, no ships or helos, far as I can tell. We've taken most of the Sarzonians into custody as well."

Rear-Admiral Dilistam thought about what the Colonel had just said. Well... at Pwnage least losses were minimal. But now what?

The drone of battle klaxons through the flagship were normally loud enough to rattle any landlubber or green sailor. That noise combined with fire alarms and the shouts of fire control teams trying desperately to keep the magazines from exploding, however, was merely background.

"Over here!"

"Hurry the fuck up!"

"She's taking water!"

If it was obvious to everyone the ship wasn't designed for combat, the battle was proving it in spades. Charley frowned as he looked blankly out toward the lead Pwnage corvette which was looking the worse for wear, but he knew he had his own problems to deal with. He hit the intercom.

"Damage control teams, report?" Before he heard a word, the aft magazine answered for him.

BOOOOOOOOM!

"We just lost Y magazine! She's taking on water!"

The .50 cal machine guns firing desperately at the helicopters hovering menacingly overhead may as well have been BB guns targeting a Wells Fargo armoured car for the effect they would have on the aerial threat. Worse, however, those fires just weren't being doused. The ship continued to take on water and the automated pumps were running out of strength.

"Sickbay to bridge! I'm getting overloaded down here!"

"Sawbones, jess do the best ye can," Charley yelled.

"Sir, it's no use. She's going down." Charley frowned as he looked out at the remnants of his command and, even in his money grubbing heart, felt the singular pain of a ship's captain about to give the saddest order he could.

"All hands, abandon ship."

The exhausted crew streamed toward the lifeboats and cut them away to escape. However, there was a problem. There weren't enough lifeboats for everyone.

"Leave the criticals," Charley said.

"What about you two?"

"Captain's got to go down with the ship," the doctor said, looking at Charley expectantly as he and Lane stood together. "I only got room for one more."

"Wanna bet," Charley said before he did something that would stun everyone who saw it and would remain in their minds for years. He pushed Lane overboard before he jumped into the lifeboat. Seconds after the lifeboat cast off and drifted to safety, the ship exploded.