HFT
18-12-2006, 22:07
OOC: This thread is Open to all and is FT in nature. This thread is intended to run in conjunction with the current Charybdis Cluster invasion thread. I am not looking for massive fleets to respond. This is simply my attempt at facilitating a bit of first contact. The Theocracy of Immyr is a small star nation. Barely 300 million people on a single plant within the Cluster. With the reappearance of the Wainwright, a rescue operation will likely be launched. Like I said, an excuse to run into someone in the dark reaches of space. As for the Wainwright itself, the Warp has spit out. Now it must be discovered what, if anything, came back with it. I don't have a factbook yet but my introductory posts can be found here:
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=507078&page=7
and here:
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=508160&page=3
**** Unknown system. Approx. 165 light years outside of Immyrian space ****
Within the immeasurable reaches of that which is called space, relatively few systems had less to distinguish it from others as this particular system. A dim brown dwarf star shed its feeble glow on an expanse filled with little more than rock, ice, and other cosmic detritus. There were no planets orbiting the dying star and no other celestial bodies of note other than a few massive asteroids composed primarily of nickel and iron. In other words, this was a dead system. It was almost amusing how quickly that would change.
Had anyone been there, they would have seen the blinding flare of light that always announced the arrival of a Warp-capable vessel as it breached the barrier between space and the Immaterium. The energy generated during the downward translation bled from the ship’s void shields in a rapidly dissipating stream of charged particles. The vessel itself was monstrous, weighing in at just over 11,000,000 tons displacement. To an experienced eye, it was obvious that the ship was some sort of bulk freighter. Massive cargo holds dotted the flanks of the leviathan, their gaping maws sealed shut by meter thick adamantium hatch covers. No armament was visible and in fact there was none. Faint light from the distant star revealed a registry number of TCS021061 stenciled onto hull, just forward of the first of the cargo holds. Below that number was a single word; Wainwright.
**** 8 years ago. Orbital dockyards of Gaias IV, Immyrian capital world ****
Aboard the bulk cargo carrier TCS Wainwright, final preparations were being made for departure. Manifests were finalized and filed by the ship’s purser. Flight plans were submitted to Sector Control. Final checks were completed in the engineering sections. For all intents and purposes, the freighter was ready to go.
On the main bridge, the faint hiss of the environmental system mixed with the hum if the cogitators and the chatter of a bridge crew that had been together for nearly 4 years. Servitors sat silently before their consoles, most hardwired into the very systems for which they were responsible. Above it all, figuratively if not literally, was Ship Master Horus. (Theocracy law prohibited any non-military ship commander from using the title “Captain”). Horus had captained the Wainwright for the past 11 years and although the Bactian Trade Consortium owned the ship, she was his baby. He was a small man, slight of stature and as physically unimposing as a man could be. Bushy eyebrows framed deep set eyes and one hand reached up to push back his rapidly thinning, grey-black hair. The charisma and authority that radiated from the man however, was almost a physical presence on the bridge. There was no question who was in charge.
“We’ve received departure clearance from Sector Control,” stated Mikala Ames, ship’s communications officer and resident history buff. Ames was tall and lanky and undeniably attractive. She was also depressingly feminist in her outlook. That probably explained her perpetually single status. She was also good at what she did and while she would never admit it she was skilled enough to a have made in great career in the Navy. Civilian life was where it was all at. At least as far as she was concerned.
“Alright then,” Hollingsworth acknowledged, “take us out Dann.”
The helmsman simply nodded and began manipulating runes on the console before him. Almost immediately, the multi-million ton vessel shuddered as her docking thrusters fired and began moving her ungainly mass away from the docking berth she had occupied for the last 4 days. Once well clear of the dockyard, the ship pivoted on her axis and pointed her broad snout towards the darkness of deep space, her cargo of heavy construction machinery and foodstuffs nestled securely in her cavernous holds. She was bound for one of the nearby systems within the Charybdis Cluster, her sole mission to trade and to reach out in a spirit of diplomacy and cooperation. The Immyrian Theocracy had few friends within the Cluster and no allies. Rhedick, god-king of Immyr, knew that had to change if the Theocracy was to survive. Fission engines pulsed to life and the journey began as the Wainwright loped towards the periphery of the Gaias system. All around, life went on. Shuttles moved to and from the planet’s surface. Orbital fortresses continued their unblinking vigilance. Nobody aboard the Wainwright knew that their lives were now measured in hours.
Four hours later, void shields spooled up and the freighter blinked out of existence as she crossed over into the Warp. She wouldn’t be heard from again.
**** Unknown system. Approx. 165 light years outside of Immyrian space ****
Until now. Twenty-five minutes after reappearing, a tentacle like antennae was extended and a simple code was broadcast in the general direction of the Gaias system and Theocracy space. The signal itself was a simple civilian distress code, straightforward and unencrypted. The message sped through the vacuum of space. The hulk itself simply drifted, silent and dark.
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=507078&page=7
and here:
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=508160&page=3
**** Unknown system. Approx. 165 light years outside of Immyrian space ****
Within the immeasurable reaches of that which is called space, relatively few systems had less to distinguish it from others as this particular system. A dim brown dwarf star shed its feeble glow on an expanse filled with little more than rock, ice, and other cosmic detritus. There were no planets orbiting the dying star and no other celestial bodies of note other than a few massive asteroids composed primarily of nickel and iron. In other words, this was a dead system. It was almost amusing how quickly that would change.
Had anyone been there, they would have seen the blinding flare of light that always announced the arrival of a Warp-capable vessel as it breached the barrier between space and the Immaterium. The energy generated during the downward translation bled from the ship’s void shields in a rapidly dissipating stream of charged particles. The vessel itself was monstrous, weighing in at just over 11,000,000 tons displacement. To an experienced eye, it was obvious that the ship was some sort of bulk freighter. Massive cargo holds dotted the flanks of the leviathan, their gaping maws sealed shut by meter thick adamantium hatch covers. No armament was visible and in fact there was none. Faint light from the distant star revealed a registry number of TCS021061 stenciled onto hull, just forward of the first of the cargo holds. Below that number was a single word; Wainwright.
**** 8 years ago. Orbital dockyards of Gaias IV, Immyrian capital world ****
Aboard the bulk cargo carrier TCS Wainwright, final preparations were being made for departure. Manifests were finalized and filed by the ship’s purser. Flight plans were submitted to Sector Control. Final checks were completed in the engineering sections. For all intents and purposes, the freighter was ready to go.
On the main bridge, the faint hiss of the environmental system mixed with the hum if the cogitators and the chatter of a bridge crew that had been together for nearly 4 years. Servitors sat silently before their consoles, most hardwired into the very systems for which they were responsible. Above it all, figuratively if not literally, was Ship Master Horus. (Theocracy law prohibited any non-military ship commander from using the title “Captain”). Horus had captained the Wainwright for the past 11 years and although the Bactian Trade Consortium owned the ship, she was his baby. He was a small man, slight of stature and as physically unimposing as a man could be. Bushy eyebrows framed deep set eyes and one hand reached up to push back his rapidly thinning, grey-black hair. The charisma and authority that radiated from the man however, was almost a physical presence on the bridge. There was no question who was in charge.
“We’ve received departure clearance from Sector Control,” stated Mikala Ames, ship’s communications officer and resident history buff. Ames was tall and lanky and undeniably attractive. She was also depressingly feminist in her outlook. That probably explained her perpetually single status. She was also good at what she did and while she would never admit it she was skilled enough to a have made in great career in the Navy. Civilian life was where it was all at. At least as far as she was concerned.
“Alright then,” Hollingsworth acknowledged, “take us out Dann.”
The helmsman simply nodded and began manipulating runes on the console before him. Almost immediately, the multi-million ton vessel shuddered as her docking thrusters fired and began moving her ungainly mass away from the docking berth she had occupied for the last 4 days. Once well clear of the dockyard, the ship pivoted on her axis and pointed her broad snout towards the darkness of deep space, her cargo of heavy construction machinery and foodstuffs nestled securely in her cavernous holds. She was bound for one of the nearby systems within the Charybdis Cluster, her sole mission to trade and to reach out in a spirit of diplomacy and cooperation. The Immyrian Theocracy had few friends within the Cluster and no allies. Rhedick, god-king of Immyr, knew that had to change if the Theocracy was to survive. Fission engines pulsed to life and the journey began as the Wainwright loped towards the periphery of the Gaias system. All around, life went on. Shuttles moved to and from the planet’s surface. Orbital fortresses continued their unblinking vigilance. Nobody aboard the Wainwright knew that their lives were now measured in hours.
Four hours later, void shields spooled up and the freighter blinked out of existence as she crossed over into the Warp. She wouldn’t be heard from again.
**** Unknown system. Approx. 165 light years outside of Immyrian space ****
Until now. Twenty-five minutes after reappearing, a tentacle like antennae was extended and a simple code was broadcast in the general direction of the Gaias system and Theocracy space. The signal itself was a simple civilian distress code, straightforward and unencrypted. The message sped through the vacuum of space. The hulk itself simply drifted, silent and dark.