NationStates Jolt Archive

It is widely believed within No Endorse that war is the most profitable business in existence. Not the waging of which, of course, because that results in the destruction of one’s own property to no gain, but instead, the production of the machines of war. War, whether it is economic or military, is the sole institution which is specifically designed to destroy everything that is created for it. And the winner is he who has the most and best machines with which to destroy the enemies’ machines.

Demand is a given, and it is as impossible to satisfy as a bottomless pit. And those who can provide at least a little for this pit can benefit greatly.

========================================

The glow of welding torches shone out like small stars across the massive shipyards at Haven. Dozens upon dozens of craft scurried about, mere insects against the huge forms beginning to take shape. No Endorse was mobilizing for production; everything was warming up to the sound of profits. Entire industries awoke that had been dormant since the beginning of the Laski Revolt of 1019.

The few skilled workers that had managed to survive since the Revolt now had a capsule they could surround themselves with, three hot meals a day, and a decent salary. They now had places to work, and they wanted many other things. And with the rapid influx of businesses, any desire could be provided for… for a price. Workers moved rapidly through the complex, hurrying to begin the dozens of vessels ordered for the war.

Above the silent maelstrom of activity, several forms floated in the void. The first load of vessels, and their basic operations manuals, was ready to depart. A trio of Ballista class cruisers, a pair of Dreadnoughts, and a medium freighter had been pulled out of mothballs for this. Skeleton crewed, and defended only by half a dozen Aardvark cruisers, a dozen Hornet frigates, and a solitary SeaLion class carrier, they would not be stalling for anything.

Above the flurry of communication in the Inferno’s largest military system, Haven control sent out a transmission.

Convoy Delta, you are clear for departure. Have a nice trip, and bring back plenty of Old Tillman!

The vessels confirmed, and two dozen energy signatures screamed into the outer dark, bound for Solari Prime.

========================================

Over Solari Prime, twenty-four enormous energy signatures appeared on any scanner pointed at the sky. The vessels popped back into realspace and began heading for the desired coordinates.

Hey there boys, we've got some goodies for ye.



ooc: Alright, a few things. I’m cool with a lot of things, but make sure you talk to me first. I'm sure that almost anything can be worked out, so don't hesitate to ask. Also, obviously semi-closed to the GFFA and ESUS war. You'll need to talk to someone before you can join in if you're not in either.

MSN: anomaly149@hotmail.com
AIM: anomaly149

It is widely believed within No Endorse that war is the most profitable business in existence. Not the waging of which, of course, because that results in the destruction of one’s own property to no gain, but instead, the production of the machines of war. War, whether it is economic or military, is the sole institution which is specifically designed to destroy everything that is created for it. And the winner is he who has the most and best machines with which to destroy the enemies’ machines.

Demand is a given, and it is as impossible to satisfy as a bottomless pit. And those who can provide at least a little for this pit can benefit greatly.

========================================

The glow of welding torches shone out like small stars across the massive shipyards at Haven. Dozens upon dozens of craft scurried about, mere insects against the huge forms beginning to take shape. No Endorse was mobilizing for production; everything was warming up to the sound of profits. Entire industries awoke that had been dormant since the beginning of the Laski Revolt of 1019.

The few skilled workers that had managed to survive since the Revolt now had a capsule they could surround themselves with, three hot meals a day, and a decent salary. They now had places to work, and they wanted many other things. And with the rapid influx of businesses, any desire could be provided for… for a price. Workers moved rapidly through the complex, hurrying to begin the dozens of vessels ordered for the war.

Above the silent maelstrom of activity, several forms floated in the void. The first load of vessels, and their basic operations manuals, was ready to depart. A trio of Ballista class cruisers, a pair of Dreadnoughts, and a medium freighter had been pulled out of mothballs for this. Skeleton crewed, and defended only by half a dozen Aardvark cruisers, a dozen Hornet frigates, and a solitary SeaLion class carrier, they would not be stalling for anything.

Above the flurry of communication in the Inferno’s largest military system, Haven control sent out a transmission.



The vessels confirmed, and two dozen energy signatures screamed into the outer dark, bound for Solari Prime.

========================================

Over Solari Prime, twenty-four enormous energy signatures appeared on any scanner pointed at the sky. The vessels popped back into realspace and began heading for the desired coordinates.





ooc: Alright, a few things. I’m cool with a lot of things, but make sure you talk to me first. I'm sure that almost anything can be worked out, so don't hesitate to ask. Also, obviously semi-closed to the GFFA and ESUS war. You'll need to talk to someone before you can join in if you're not in either.

MSN: anomaly149@hotmail.com
AIM: anomaly149


"And here they are. Finally." After waiting for several weeks, the Solari had finally recieved the reionforcements they had purchased. And they needed them. There were scattered satelite yards all over the system, making more domestic designs, but the majority wouldn't be ready for months. And they needed ships now.

"Contact them, and give them coordinates to offload."

Welcome to the system. Enclosed within are the coordinates for delivery.

The vessels proceeded to the offload point and began transfer. With Solari crews taking over the vessels, they had but to shuttle to a few crew transports and hold tight.

Everything was going well according to plan. The delivery was made, and the small fleet made ready to depart. There were other ships that needed escourting to other places, and their work here was done.

The fleet screamed out of realspace, bound back home.

========================================

Weeks had passed, and the time had come for a second shipment to be made to the Solari, along with a shipment to the Worker's State of New Dornalia. Hundreds of Antimatter Torpeedos made up this shipment, kept in a pair of heavy freighters.

The two vessels chosen were ancient beyond words. Believed to be at least eight hundred years old, their creaking hulls were tinged red from the constant exposure to the dusty Sanctuary system. Huge shield domes arched over their bows, the only evidence that they had once been the premier research ships for the Inferno, plumbing the depths of the Dragon's Nest and skipping across the edge of the drift. Little more than a trio of cylindars with a crew and drive module on the stern, they represented the epitome of the engineering prowess of the one-time Kingdom of No Endorse-Avalon. Supplanted by newer and faster models, these were the only available craft posessing the sheer cargo capacity for the load. Fortionatly, they had been significantly upgraded, and their appearences hid surprisingly advanced systems. They were deemed advanced enough that they each had a single prototype singularity torpeedo made from New Dornalian designs, tests to see if the production had been sucessful.

This pair met up with their escourts, a cruiser and three frigates, and jumped out at a breakneck pace, prepared for anything they could imagine.

========================================

The Solari order was much more significant. A carrier, a dreadnought, and half a dozen freighters full of spares and supplies clustered in a tight knot over Haven. These cargo ships were of a much more conventional design: a central 'carryall' unit with four containers attatched, two to a side. Capable of entering the atmosphere of a planet, they had a far smaller cargo facilities than their older bretheren.

Two cruisers and a Ballista class torpeedo cruiser waited patiently for another small group to join them: a brand new carrier and half a dozen frigates fresh off border patrol. They neared the knot of delivery vessels and signaled their intent to leave-system. In a few moments, they had left the system, bound for Solari Prime.

“Sir, I have detected traces of the convoy’s passage. We are not far behind them.”

“Remain within T-Space and follow them.”

The commander concentrated a brief moment as he reached his mind out to the captains of the Beta Battlefleet. Once he found them, he entered into a Gestalt with them, merging their minds into a single entity.

“We are to first send the Interceptors around to get ahead of them. The cruisers and frigates will attack them from the sides. The Battleships and the Carrier will assault them from behind. Let them see the Destroyers first, that will get them to concentrate their defenses on the front, between the Interceptors and the freighters. The Cruisers will then Emerge from T-Space into Jump Space attacking the defenders, The Battleships and the carrier will then step in from behind and take the freighters. When we have them secured, all ships will leave whether we have destroyed the escort or not.”

“Commander, are we to employ the Kythons?”

“Negative, we are to capture the freighters, not obliterate them. The Admiral wants to use them against their designers.”

“I see.”

“Any other questions? I see not. Let’s get to work.”

"And so then I says: 'that's impossible, the Dornalians did it decades ago!'"

"Aha! So there is a Forgemaker! Thank Gods for that!"

Laughter ripped through the engineering section of the NES Aardvark, first ship in her class and pride of the fleet. While most of her sister cruisers in existance had never seen combat, the Aardvark had taken dozens of ships in her day. She had allowed for the evacuation of the many of the stations orbiting Avalon during the Rebellion of 1019, and had even single-handedly disabled a Star Destroyer as it ravaged the planet's surface.

But all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, so the crews were enjoying an easy escourt mission for once.

"Babysittin, more like!" Called one of the engineers, fiddling with an access panel on the Jump Drive. "We don't need to be 'ere! Those freighters can take care o themselves. I 'eard that there's a new Destroyer model comin out, somethin' ta take o'er this job!" He slammed the panel shut and crawled over to another one, taking a swig from a bottle of foul-looking liquid.

"Aye Douglas," called another, "but you have to remember that a Destroyer can't pray to match the firepower of an Aardvark. Well, they can pray all they want." This engineer, a young woman with shockingly red hair, was reclining on an equally red coolant pipe marked 'Danger, Not A Step.' "And quit messing with the Side-Jumper! You'll screw something up. We can't be taking it apart while we're in jump, remember?"

"Shush lass, I've been crawling through these things since before you were in a training bra!" Douglas grinned at her and slammed the second panel shut, moving to a third, far larger one, sipping more of the violent-looking liquid.

"Don't make me come over there!" The woman laughed, "That's the main core! Cap'n'll be pissed."

"A hogwash, nothing can go wrong." Almost as if on command, the entire vessel shook, as if it were being wrenched apart, with angered voices coming from every imaginable nook and cranny of the engine room. Tools were spilled and steam rose from the Drive Core as Douglas spilled his drink.

"GODDAMIT! I TOLD YOU TO QUIT MESSING!" "Look what you did! We've been thrown back to realspace, and fouled the drive too!" "It wasn't my fault, I just-" "-Just what? Shut down the drive?" "Oh hell..."

========================================

Onboard the bridge of the Aardvark, the Captain was just about as pleased as the engineering crew. This was supposed to be an easy mission, they would babysit and then get two weeks leave. But now they were in the middle of some sort of inhibitor field.

At least the other vessels came out with us... he thought, glancing at the sensor screens. "SCANNING! Any idea what brought us out of Jump?"

"No sir, but...wait... THREE UNKNOWN SIGNALS, DEAD AHEAD! THEY'VE OPENED FIRE!"

"Comms! Send Condition Red to all vessels, get them in Beta formation out front, frigate screen. Protect the freighters at all costs! Oh, and send for re-inforcements, specifically rescue vessels. We'll need them." "Aye sir!" Orders were barked at everything that moved, claxons sounded, and the token defense force lept into action.

========================================

The four frigates surrounded the cruiser, opening fire almost instantly with everything they had. Their two main cannons tore through the black, unleasing wave after wave of energy apon these newcomers. It wasn't long until the cruiser joined in, firing just as intensely. A few seconds passed, and the cruiser began adding new toys to the fray: singularity torpeedos. The most powerful weapons in the Inferno arsenal, there was no last resort after these.

Just as the singularity weapons were away, the first volley of enemy fire impacted. Many simply impacted on the shields, and a few were downed by point-defense, but some saw their way through. Gun turrets appeared to be a major target, with several of the turrets on the frigates down instantly. The cruiser's starboard engine pod also got hit, forcing it to present its port side to the enemy vessels. Even the cruiser's small hangar was not safe from fire, taking a direct hit.

========================================

"GOOD!" Called the captain, looking over the damage reports coming in. "We can beat these guys! Hold on a few more seconds."

"Captain! Confirmed impact of the singularity weapons!"

"Excellent. Give me a full damage report and let's get out of here. Bloody pirate attack it seems. Silence the guns."

Unfortionatly, the move was premature. As the sensor distortion caused by the Inferno's torpeedos died down, the screens still showed three targets, surruonded by fierce shields.

"CAPTAIN! LOOK!"

"No effect... they're still there..." There was a great murmer throughout the various ships. How had these... things done it?

"Four more targets acquired! Three smaller and one larger! We're surrounded!"

May the Forgemaster have mercy on our souls...

The Destroyers lay in plain sight while the Cruiser and frigates were ready to ambush the escort ships.

When the No Endorse caravan appeared, the Interceptor Destroyers made sure they were noticed. Their power levels were increased so they would be detected by a blind bat. They had loaded their tubes with low power ordnances so they would draw the attention of their targets instead of destroying them instantly with their more destructive weapons.

The launch of a dozen torpedoes signaled the beginning of the encounter. The birds flew from their berths and hit void, creating an easy to trace swath of signatures streaking towards their prey. They twisted and turned attempting to create a target hard to lock upon by the point defenses of the Escorts. The torps were locked on various systems whose disruption would cause the failure of critical ship functions. Engines, Shields, Navigation, Flight decks, Ect…

As the torps flew towards their targets, the return fire sped past them. The energy weapons struck first, causing the shield systems to flair as the energy of the attack was first diverted evenly across the Dimensions, then as the remaining strike filtered through to the Reactive Armor. The armor thickened in reaction to the impending strike and when the energies passed through the shields, it took the full brunt of what was not stopped. Layers of armor was burned and fragmented by the intense weapon discharge only to be replaced by more as the defense system worked hard to keep the hull intact.

Then the Singularities struck.

The immense gravities of the missiles caused a reaction with the gravity drives of the ship. The Mirage Drives drew in the gravimetric energies and fed it into the shield system, causing a Shield Manifestation. An impenetrable purple ovoid formed around the targeted destroyer. The Manifestation would prevent the passage of all energies into and out of the bubble. This made it so there was no way for the Destroyer to fire back without dropping their shields, but it also meant nothing could enter it either.

This was when the Cruiser and the Frigates materialized.

The Cruiser opened up with a full spread of torpedoes while the frigates followed suit. The Cruiser also fired its Beam Cannons; attempting to cause enough trouble with the ships they would not notice the real attempt of the attack.

Behind the frigates, the Deity Carrier appeared with full jamming suites operating. This would prevent the freighter from informing the escorts of their plight as multiple tractor beams locked upon them and began to draw hem into the huge opening in front if the carrier.

The 6000 meter vessel began to swallow it’s prey whole despite the attempts of the crews.

NES Aardvark:

The vessels shuddered as torpeedos impacted on their shields, flaring as they absorbed the damage. The initial shock was over, and now the vessels were once again becoming the well-trained machines they had once been.

The bridge was now far calmer, as realization began to sink in. A transmission was put through to the whole group, the Commander speaking to his men. The brief few seconds it took for this were worth fortunes more than the small group breaking and fleeing. Not now, not when there were allies in need.

Alright now, this is by far the most powerful foe we've ever met. I won't lie to you men, we have been through too much for that. We cannot pray to fight them on even terms if their shields are strong enough to endure direct impacts from singularity missiles. However, we can sell our lives dearly, like true warriors of No Endorse. I stood by all of you over Avalon, where we had to kill our own countrymen. You were there when we were forced to allow NES Colonyship Beth to impact on the planetary shields, in order to buy time for her sistership, Sara. You endured more than mere men over Outskirt, and are now transcended to legend. The names 'Aardvark' and 'Strike Group Beta' will be remembered in song for centuries to come, nothing we do this day can change that. But we WILL NOT LIE DOWN AND GO QUIETLY INTO THE BLACK! May the Forgemaster look apon us, and smile for what we have done. For Country, For Freedom, and the FORGE THAT FORMED US!

The ships formed up into a compact formation, and began to beat their way through the torpeedo barrages. Their shields flared under the Balroggan beam cannon, though they knew not who fired it. They cared not, for at this point, they had nothing left to lose.

The cruiser emptied every weapon it had, singularity missiles screaming through the black to meet their foes. Beam weapons sliced through the deep, dancing an intricate web of fire that nothing could pass through unscathed.

========================================

Onboard the bridge of freighter NES Vercin Mallor:

The situation onboard the Vercin Mallor was one of confusion. She and her sister vessel had been selected to do a transport mission of the utmost importance, the first such mission in a long time. The vessels had been doing tug duty for too long and the machinery appreciated the overhaul necessary.

But the crews had gotten lax, inexperienced. No effort was needed to take a vessel through a system, especially when the computer did so much. Even the captains had no idea what they were doing.

Problems worsened considerably, however, when a behemoth carrier appeared behind them. Every attempt was made to contact the other vessels, get out of the way of the impending doom, but to no avail. With only the single message the cruiser captain sent to comfort them, they drifted into the maw of the Balroggan leviathan.

Untrained men, boys just out of school, clutched their token weapons in desperation. This was it, so they thoguht. The reality of war. The feeling of being condemned to death far before your time is up. The gun turrets of the freighters had been removed long ago, and even if they hadn't been, they would be useless. A tiny enemy could hold off the most powerful weapons the universe had ever seen, what was a beam turret to this new creature of the void?

What was a man to the universe these strange beings inhabited?

What was a man, anyway?

Hush. A man is enough. A young crewman clutched his weapon tighter, eagrly awaiting his death. A man is enough. Three words exited his lips as the carrier enveloped the hopeless freighters. "Forgemaster, guide me."

After both freighters were drawn through the open maw in the bow of the Deity Carrier, the barrier solidified preventing any ships from entering or leaving. The two battleship escorts and the Carrier faded away as they Uplifted into T-Space.

In Alpha Bay, the two freighters were held, suspended by multiple tractor beams. Several Ta’Nar and Childer were in galleys overlooking Alpha Bay. They were concentrating their psionics, sending pulses of energy into the two vessels, lulling the crews into a deep slumber. Others were using sensor equipment to monitor the movements inside the vessel, directing the Psions where to direct their energies.

Once the entire crew was rendered unconscious, the Childer simply stepped through the bulkheads into the ship itself. Being composed only of thought energy, this was a simple task. They worked their way to the freight bays. When they arrived, they used their CyberPsi ability to connect with the computer and unlock the cargo bay doors. Once they had gained access to the cargo pods, it was only a matter of time until both ships were unloaded.



The Cruiser continued firing its beam cannons at the escorts, several gouges taken out of their armor left a trail of ebon shrapnel floating as the small 160 meter vessel seemed to twist and turn around the defenders. The three frigates also seemingly danced in and out of the torpedo and missile attacks. They quickly darted in and used their point defenses to score several raking hits against the ships and then just as quickly darted back out beyond point defense to dodge several missiles. Many missile attacks were stopped by the point defenses or just plain fancy sidesteps. Sometimes it seemed as if the ships were moving sideways. Even though the ships demonstrated the dexterity of a dancer, several hits were scored upon the vessels leaving part of their armor scorched or blasted. One of the frigates was taken out of the fight by a singularity induced Shield Manifestation.

Suddenly all the ships just faded away as they Uplifted to T-Space. The escorts were left alone to realize the fighting was just a ruse, a distraction to make them lose track of their charges, the now missing freighters.

Several hours later the two freighters were discovered near the edge of the No Endorse system. The crews still dazed and confused, unsure of what actually happened.



The battlegroup, all seventeen ships, returned to the Thorn base of the Privateers with their cargo.



OOC:

Feel free to add anything you want or make some changes

"This is completely unacceptable!" Alexander Kathii spat into his phone, ignoring for the time the junior officer whom had brought him the typed report. The C.E.O. of Inferno Engineering was very upset over recent events, and his every word showed it. "We lost an entire shipment, and the repairs to that squadron won't be cheap! I don't care what it takes, get back on quota. I have a few ideas, we'll get to the bottom of it soon enough. Yes.... Yes... Okay. Good. Oh, and do not reverse the charges, it was attacked in-transit. They can be angry, how do you think I feel? Exactly... Well good, keep up the effort. Keep me posted." Alex slammed down the phone, sending it a look that could kill any biological construct. “Shit. Now… what to do?”

Turning to the younger man, he placed his hands on his desk, looking at him skeptically. "Whoa! Hey, you may go now, unless you have more bad news."

"A word, Sir?"

"What?"

"I... have an idea..."

“At least someone is having them,” said Alex, leaning back in his chair. “Go on.”

"Well, you know how the enemy captured the freighters? Many of the crew were sputtering about 'the maw' or some nonsense like that."

So he'd read the reports... good job there Alex thought, pressing his fingers together. "Continue."

"Well, this means that the enemy obviously used a large transport of sorts to capture the freighters. This makes sense, as those freighters were not small… several hundred meters, yes?” He hesitated, and seeing a nod, continued. “Since custom-built vessels would not be cost-effective, and anyone who is preying on shipping lines will want to concentrate on the cost to benefit ratio-"

Alex now leaned in, interested. "Yes, unless they're ESUS looking to limit shipping, where economics is less important than effectiveness."

The officer straitened, obviously pleased that the businessman had made the connection. "That makes it all the more likely then, that it is some form of military carrier vessel that was retasked for the job. If its privateers looking for salvage, they would have not only kept the freighters, but they would also not have used such extreme tactics, most likely not had access to such technology, and not built a custom vessel. All of those points are too expensive. A major nation has no reason to build a custom vessel either, as there are others that can function just as well. I believe it was an ESUS carrier and its support vessels that carried out the attack, not some rogue pirate group. So we now have possible preliminary combat information against what some of them can do. I have already recommended that the combat tapes be analyzed for tactics and capabilities. If anything’s certain, however, it’s that they were holding back quite a bit."

Alex began to grow impatient for this idea. This officer was telling the truth, a truth that Alex would have been informed of after a few weeks of military analysts talking about it over tea unto the point of exhaustion.

The officer, seeming to sense the impatience, hastened his speech. "However, back on topic, it seems we have a carrier vessel taking on unknown cargos, presumably a command vessel in a small-scale fleet. A carrier is, for all intents and purposes, a massive shell with fighters. A standard bulk freighter could be converted into one if we opened up the cargo bays and slapped more armor on the outside. In the navy, a carrier is well armored, but lacks the structural integrity a battleship might have as it is a reserve vessel, not fighting in the line of battle. It generally makes up in shield power and active defenses though."

Alex began to see where the officer was headed. "You're suggesting we attack it from the inside? All of the men were rendered unconscious within five minutes, except for one, who had already passed out from fear. And our freighters are unarmed or close enough compared to these guys. Plus, I imagine its unlikely that they’ll let us in there with a warship."

The officer grinned. "Sir, I am indeed recommending that we attack them from the inside. However, the crew need not stay conscious long. I recommend that we use the weapons those freighters are transporting for the purpose they were made for.”

Alex thought this over for a few minutes, ideas transferring through his head. "Officer…” He glanced at the insignia “First Lieutenant, what is your name?"

"Bruce Halsey sir, and yes I'm Ministress Jennifer Halsey's grandson."

"Well Bruce, you have a sharp mind, and now a promotion, should you choose to accept it. I need minds like you to keep this place running, the dream that is this company balances on the brink of awesome success and mediocrity. Phantom Manufacturers threatens our military monopoly, and we have almost no market share in the civilian sector. There are two new Project Reiver ships we are going to be unveiling next week, and they appear to be coming just in time to save our necks against Phantom, if we can spin it right. Never mind the fact that they are in roles that will support their vessels. And now this nonsense is threatening to topple the whole business. I will offer you more than what you're getting now, and the authority to hire several staff members to aid you, within reason of course."

A few awkward moments of silence passed, Alexander Kathii’s words hanging heavily in the air. "Sir... I... Sure!" Bruce stuttered, surprised that his idea had such fallout. "I mean, yes sir. I shall have to tell my superiors in the Navy, but what do you want?"

"Don't worry about the Navy, I am owed a few favors, and you'll have an easier time if you can access military resources. I need you to make it happen. Find some way so the crews, and I hope we can drastically reduce the crew numbers, will, willingly or not, activate some defense mechanism to harm this carrier thing. And then come up with a way to prevent the enemy from forcing open the cargo bays in case the detonators fail, as well as ways around their inhibitor technology."

"Umm… I… I’ll get right to work on those.” This ‘job’ all of a sudden didn’t sound so attractive to Bruce, but he plowed on. “However... I believe a miniature semi-sentient AI construct could be used... if fused directly to the door controls and had its own power source. Something to keep the controls from being simple switches."

"See it done; you have full access to our research labs through me. We will priority one and double-fast any research you think necessary to prevent these attacks. I’m sure you can request that the Navy assist you in this matter, they have expressed their concerns to me as well."

"Yes sir. I’ll do it." Bruce saluted and turned sharply, walking out of the room the way only an officer can. He leaned on a bulkhead after closing the door, and began to laugh, almost drenched in sweat. Who would’ve thunk? Personal advisor type to a C-E-O! His thoughts were a whirl. He felt as if he was on a cloud, smiling at the secretary as he walked past her desk and receiving a faint smile in return. Who indeed?

========================================

Weeks had passed, and now it was time for more shipments. The Solari-bound carrier and dreadnought had made the passage successfully, as had the other supplies with them. This was fortunate, as those freighters were filled with very expensive parts. The Solari-ordered cruisers, having taken longer in their berths than was expected, had just now been barely completed, and the New Dornalian torpedo designs had just hit full mass-production. Inferno Engineering was now producing designs at full speed, and had even received permission from Phantom Manufacturers to construct several of the cruisers. Phantom was still a small company at heart, despite its recent explosive success, and could not handle such a large order easily. IE ‘graciously’ offered to build the designs… for a small fee.

A small fee, plus the ability to examine Phantom designs! A chance to see what made their vessels tick! The amazing intricacies of the Phoenix Gunship, the raw power of the Ballista and Pilon cruisers, and the sheer genius of the hangar section of the SeaLion carrier. Already, Inferno Engineering employees were working around the clock to design vessels that could best the Phantom designs, and for ways to improve the original designs. The former would be put on the market as competitors, the latter would be sent to Phantom as a show of force. To show that they could be good, but IE could still improve their designs.

But all that was still a far-off dream in Bruce Halsey’s mind, long range plans set in motion. The new job had been a whirl of excitement; he had coordinated a dozen different stock purchases, engineered the buy-out of a small civilian manufacturer, and gained rights to more shipyards. Inferno Engineering now directly controlled almost as many shipyards as the No Endorse Government!

And don’t forget the new armor policies. Previously, Seamless Woven Armor had taken eternity to construct. Now, it was made in huge sections and completed on the vessel, instead of all the work occurring in the yards, saving tremendously on assembly time. Unfortunately, it put delicate Weaving equipment in the yards to finish the jobs… but you can’t have everything.

Enough thinking! he thought, smirking at the irony. Time for action! The launch of the Knife and Sling class Destroyers had been so successful that several would even be making their test runs on this trip. And Bruce was so confident, he had offered (and been politely refused) to lead the expedition to the Dornalians.

Twenty-Three cruisers and three carriers were heading over. Technically, a third of of them were backups that had been waiting in storage yards since the debt of the civil war forced them out of commission, or ships that had lain partly-done in the yards for quite a while. However, now that the ones that had been laid down were either completed or almost there, these replacements could be sent out without worry. Ship levels would remain relatively constant, even if the storage yards were empty for a few weeks.

The vessels jumped out. Interestingly, they had been given a running combat load, so as to require fewer escorts, and had a swarm of passenger transports tailing them. If only the New Dornalian order could be so lucky.

The New Dornalian order consisted of another escort fleet and some fifteen bulk freighters. The two from last time had been selected once again for their sheer cargo capacity, and multiple others had been grabbed for stronger shields and better hulls. Along with various warships, including half a dozen Knife class destroyers out for a field test.

This shipment would be military and precise. No mistakes this time.

The vessels jumped out. Interestingly, they had been given a running combat load, so as to require fewer escorts, and had a swarm of passenger transports tailing them. If only the New Dornalian order could be so lucky.

The New Dornalian order consisted of another escort fleet and some fifteen bulk freighters. The two from last time had been selected once again for their sheer cargo capacity, and multiple others had been grabbed for stronger shields and better hulls. Along with various warships, including half a dozen Knife class destroyers out for a field test.

This shipment would be military and precise. No mistakes this time.

The ships involved with the order were expected by the government, thus, they found a way to get them in. To facilitate transport across the busy and distant Aphotic, which despite the proximity of the New Territories was still pretty far, one of the Warp Gates in the New Territories was dialed into the NE Network, to allow for entry into the New Territories where they were directed by handlers to MacAllister Military Reservation would inspect the torpedoes to ensure they met New Dornalian Quality control standards.

The black eggs blinked in and out of reality, flitting across the void of the trade lane between Dornalia and No Endorse. Smaller objects slipped from their featureless surfaces, quickly scattered across a lightyear arc. The tiny mines numbered in the millions, a large enough block to project light-minute bubbles of FTLi across the entire year, enough to block off the route in its entirety. Dimensional sensors were interspersed in the minefield, ready to activate the moment a convoy arrived from the NE side. Asher and his fleet way in wait behind the field, ready to 'door in the moment their prey was sighted.

The trap was set, now all they had to do was wait...

A trio of wedge shaped vessels dropped out of the void in the projected path that the No Endorse convoy would take to Solarin space, before raising their shields. Behind them, dozens more of smaller vessels appeared, before disappearing into their protective black envelopes.

"QUETZAL, this is the CNSD Atremenous. FTLi is deployed, and we are ready for action."

Old Number Seven entered the system headed for the No Endorse capital world. The freighter was from Delphia Prime and contained luxury goods as well as a small number of paying passengers. The old freighter continued along the same route it had taken hundreds of times. Marcus, the navigator contacted Alex, the usual control officer that was on duty most of the times they were in system. The ship got clearance to approach on the usual vector to the secondary shipyards they almost always berthed at.

The only difference was the extra passengers the crew never knew were along.

Wandering through out the ship at their leisure were nearly two dozen Childer. The Psionic entities hid behind carefully crafted Mind Shields and refrained from projecting their images. The result was a pure mind carefully hiding from detection in the freighters.

After the freighter docked, they slipped aboard the port and spread out intent upon their mission. Soon the shipyards and weapons factories will be experiencing problems with production.

ooc: :P Three lines at once, here goes nothin!

IC:
Old Number Seven, bearing the name of one of the more popular alcoholic drinks in existance, docked in a bustling slip in one of the more industrial areas of the Sanctuary dockyards. As the Childer slipped off the vessel, they would encounter a sight that was rarely seen: the life of the average dock hand in the second buisiest dock in No Endorse.

Massive pallets were carted this way and that by a knot of cables. Gravity plating was only in certain areas, clearly marked by green floor paint. The other locations were left in zero-gravity, making the handling of cargo far easier. However, this also meant that the hands could move very quickly. Large scaffolds dotted the areas, and it was not uncommon to see a worker hurl himself from one to another with great speed, crossing the cavernous room in a matter of seconds.

The few paying passengers were guided through this maze of machines and gravity plating, eventually ending along the far wall of the large complex. From here, they were transferred to the outgoing floor with its dozens of noisey cafeterias and shops.

From the Outgoing sector, the Childer could easily slip into the various transports ferrying the crowds of workers to and from the military yards. Security was somewhat lax, and what cannot be seen is generally not questioned. And once in the military yards, one could have more fun than a day in a china shop with a sledge hammer. They set immediatly to work, causing just enough disruption to be troublesome, but not enough to raise suspicion. Who could be blamed for Valve T-9 being shut, when no one was allowed there? And wasn't that pressure door clamped two cycles ago? If only those lift-shuttles had been plugged in to charge like they were supposed to, then work could have proceeded today.

Suddenly the headache Alexander Kathii had been experiencing became infinitely worse...

========================================

Dreadnought NES Archangel, Solarin Convoy:

"Johnny-O! Johnny-O!
How could ye forget?
Your mind was so sharp,
Now yer a drunk git."
The old tune could be heard pouring forth from the mess hall, screamed by a hundred strained voices. Servers and eaters alike called out as loud as they could regardless of singing ability, a No Endorse tradition ancient beyond knowledge. Several of the crew were over dancing in a corner, celebrating an easy life. This would be babysitting! Who would be crazy enough to attack a full No Endorse battlefleet? It might be enough to pull them into the war! Sure, those other ships had been hit, but they were begging for it with their pathetic little strike force. THIS, however... this was a fleet!

Twenty-three battlecruisers! Three carriers! Not to mention that dreadnought and the two dozen or so frigates escourting the shipment. Toss in all those fully expendable transports chugging along in tow, and there was a force worth taking a second glance at. If only there were more of those Knife class destroyers though... a few of them would bolster the frigate lines tremendously.

But who was worried? There was more than enough here to keep even the most aggressive enemy at bay, right? And still, they were going towards the Solarin League, no one had yet been attacked on this passage. So the singing and merrymaking continued. It grew and grew, until suddenly the whole vessel shook violently, casting dozens to the ground.

Amid the confusion and shouts of 'Officer on deck!,' there was some form of general consensus that this wasn't a drill. Plates and silverware were thrown back onto the tables as a mad rush out of the mess followed, trampling several in the process. All across the fleet, men and women in various states of dress and alertness dashed to their battlestations, praying that this was merely a Jump Drive malfunction. Unfortionatly, the scanners showed them wrong.

No Endorse fleet Tango Sierra Lima hailing unknown assailants, we request identification and reasons for aggressive actions. We also strongly suggest lowering of your inhibitor field. We have no quarrel that we know of, and would rather pass this day in peace. This is our last request, please lower your inhibitor field and save both our lives for another day.

========================================
ooc: an English paper calls, gimmie a bit for the other attack.

OOC:

Actually I had them name the ship after their favorite drink...

Old Number Seven (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v248/beldragos/oldnumberseven.jpg)

Cruiser NES Undertaker, Dornalian-Bound Convoy

Silvery darts screamed through JumpSpace, leaving behind their characteristic wildly swirling wakes of energy. This was no corporate defense force, No Endorse Navy regulars had been drummed up for this passage, now marked as 'Threat Level: Extreme' on every strategic display. A stout fleet had been earmarked for this, a dreadnought and a carrier spearheading the escourt formations. A dozen each of the Knife and Sling class Destroyers, fresh off the assembly line, darted throughout the assorted fleet. They were nigh as fast as the now aging Hornet class Cruisers, and far more powerful.

Their time of testing had now come. As expected, the fleet was ripped out of FTL during their passage. But this time, they knew what to expect, or so they thought. Weapons and shields at full power, they sent a single message, ready for glorious battle for the homeworld.

This is No Endorse Fleet November-Delta hailing unknown assailants. You surprised us once on this passage. This will never happen again. We request that you identify yourselves, lower your inhibitor field, and allow us to pass.

Also, we demand that you cease attacks on the shipping lines of the Galactic Inferno of No Endorse, a neutral nation in the ESUS-GFFA conflict. If you have problems with our buisness, then you are cordially invited to Sanctuary for diplomatic discourse. Continuing to undertake unrestricted attacks on shipping will provoke No Endorse into taking appropriate measures to ensure the safety of Inferno interests abroad.

The silvery shapes of the No Endorse fleet deployed into a full battle formation, every system ready to activate at a microsecond's notice. The time had come to find out if these 'banshees' were as invincible as thought.

An entire battlefleet awaited them. Surrounded by dozens of smaller craft, Asher's gargantuan black egg, a hundred kilometers long, floated in the void.

--Inferno vessel, this is OSDN Asher. We have no quarrel with your nation, but we cannot allow you to furnish our enemies with arms. Stand down immediately and prepare to be boarded or we will be forced to to open fire.--

Behind its impenetrable shields, Asher watched through the eyes of his sensor drones, counting the Inferno vessels arrayed against it. Good. We outnumber them nearly two to one. Looks like I won't be needing your help, brothers.

A shame. I wanted to play. Call me if you need anything, Ash.

I doubt I will. See you in a few hours, I expect. Asher out.

Fleet Commander Nikola Perez laughed humorlessly. “Surrender? We’ll fight until our bodies are flayed to nothing. Communications! Prepare this message-”

A loud series of noises cut Commander Perez off, as the fleet’s secure communications device began to decrypt an incoming transmission. Nikola tore off a printout and looked it over. “Forgemaster… Communications, forward this message to the Otagians-“ “Sir? That’s a breach of-“ “-I know that officer. However, you will follow orders or I’ll have you removed to your quarters and I’ll do it myself. Oh, and add this note…”


Wide-Band Transmission
Target: Otagian Vessels
Origin: NES Joyeuse, Commander Nikola Perez

We have received the following transmission. In light of this news, we request leave to retreat, and shift assets. We are ceasing supply to Federation assets until further notice. Also, off the record, I request confirmation of Talaaxian attack.

-Secure Tightbeam
-Encryption protocol: CENSORED
-Commencement code: CENSORED
-Origin: Sanctuary Command, via NES Daybreak, Broadcast station 114-23, Repeater station AG2401-CC
-Target: NES Joyeuse, Fleet ND, Commander Nikola Perez
-Intel has verified reports of Talaaxian terrorist attack on ESUS world before conflict. Prime Minister deemed support of GFFA in light of confirmation unacceptable. Council of Tribes expresses concerns about status ITH link, due to Balroggan stance in war. All fleet assets are to immediately return to Inferno space for re-tasking to Jurai, all convoys are to return at once for refueling for passage to Coreworlds staging grounds.
-Termination code: CENSORED

Terminate Transmission

The weapons of the No Endorse fleet powered down, awaiting a reply.

--Inferno vessels, we thank you for your compliance. You may leave the system as soon as you jettisson your cargo, which will be returned to you upon confirmation that shipments to the Dornalians will cease. An Avatar has been dispatched to Sanctuary to negotiate cessation of hostilities.--

The Otagian vessels maintained their position, the FTLi holding until the Infernan dumped their cargo.

____________
Sanctuary Orbit

The sleek form of an Otagian Avatar vessel blinked into existance, immediately beginning to glide towards the planet. Its widebands came online, transmitting a request for landing coordinates and the inevitable "take me to your leader."

OOC: Sorry, crappy post, but it's the best I can squeeze in in the time I have. Stupid Psych 101 test...

Negative. Unless we have assurance that these weapons will be returned un-tampered with, unopened, and untouched, we refuse to release them. You would doubt an officer of the Inferno Navy? This does not bode well for negociations.

=====================================

Sanctuary. To one from No Endorse, it implies one thing: home. The massive star in the center of the system is held in check by the massive Dragon's Nest, a relic from times unknown. A system so dusty, that the skies take an almost rusty hue. And the center of what was once a collosal interstellar trading empire.

The Otagian Avatar was directed to land at an extensive complex in Sanctuary designed specificaly for diplomacy. A Harbor Master moved alongside the Avatar and helped clear a path through the mass of vessels in the system. When they were clear of most of the ship traffic, the Harbor Master sent the final coordinates of the complex, and left to deal with more duties.

As the Avatar entered the atmosphere, it would notice that this huge expanse of tarmac was mostly unoccupied, save for four odd looking vessels over to one side. Ranging from seventy seven to two hundred meters in legnth, they represented the future of Inferno small-scale combatants.

It would touch down near a shiney new complex, still partially covered in scaffolding. There was no evidence to show that a mere few years prior, this sector had been charred beyond recognition. Just soaring arches, massive glass windows, and ornate patches of greenery.

Welcome to Sanctuary Center. Please land near the central complex.