NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is the true copy of this thread. The one posted earlier was a mistake of different accounts getting mixed up….


IC:

The trade ship Nova Hunter was a small freighter from the star system of Krechinheim. The Nova Hunter had been outside of the Krechinheim’s sphere of influence and they traveled the rest of the uncharted territories carefully. This area of the galaxy had long ago been populated by hundreds of systems colonized by Earth.

These small planetary wide and system wide governments had for many years been fighting, trading, and scheming with each other for several centuries. The humans of these worlds had learned to adapt to the large amount of freedom thanks to the lack of a large government body that could enforce it’s will on the populace.

This freedom had a price however and that price could be fatal. The uncharted territories lacked any sort of military protection from a large interstellar or intergalactic power. It would only take about a task force of star ships to defeat each system separately and conqueror their worlds.

This well known fact had plagued the leaders of the independent systems for many years. The need for a reason to come to a diplomatic meeting was becoming paramount. The centuries of warfare and mistrust had taken a hefty toll on the populace and the reason for the leaders talking peace had to be a good one.

The leaders needed a scapegoat they set one up the Nova Hunter…..



Onboard Nova Hunter….


Captain Samuel Tyler sat at his command chair looking at his first officer Jessica Torres. The two of them were quite intimate at the time and they had a difficult time not looking at each other . The rest of the crew was more focused on their tasks and paid no attention to their superior officers unusual behavior.


The Nova Hunter had just exited out of the Hextor Wormhole junction and were on their way to Hawkeye station. The well known trade outpost at the end of the uncharted territories. It was the last trade point before entering the charted territories of the galaxy controlled by the various alien and human powers that inhabited the Galaxies across the universe.


The Nova Hunter was to make contact with the station and trade off their supply of dark matter fuel containers to the local merchants onboard the station. The trip was pretty routine until they reached the Galza system. The Galza system was an uninhabited wasteland controlled by no power. It was considered neutral territory and was a perfect place for trading merchants hoping to avoid pirate like actions of the various defense forces that fought each other across the rest of the Uncharted territories.


Captain Samuel Tyler was a military man and had a knack for knowing when something bad was about to happen. The Captain looked at holo screen of the local system taken by the ship’s scanners. The stars did not align properly on certain points and the Captain quickly figured out why.


There was a cloaked vessel that had followed right behind the Nova Hunter. It had been tailing the Nova as far back as Hextor. The Captain looked with fear as the massive dreadnought (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c309/Xharnia/XharnianDreadnought.jpg)de-cloaked revealing the nature of the treachery. It was not a rival system ship of war. It was not a pirate galley that had luckily stumbled upon them. No, it was a Krechian Dreadnought the feared Edmund Fitzgerald herself!

The massive Fitzgerald armed her particle cannons and charged up her torpedo bays. The dreadnought even raised it’s immense energy shields. Captain Samuel Tyler immediately sent a hail to the massive warship behind him…

“This is Captain Samuel Tyler, of the merchant vessel Nova Hunter. I am a civilian of the System of Krechinheim and I demand to know why you have been following me? I must also inquire as to why you are preparing your systems for combat?”


The Captain waited but no response was sent back. The Edmund Fitzgerald didn’t even send a hail back instead, she fired a plasma torpedo at the small freighter. Captain Samuel Tyler watched in horror as the ball of flaming plasma came at his vessel. He ordered his crew to abandon ship and several life pods were activated as desperate men and women tried to escape the fiery death that awaited them.

The freighter and had no weapons or shields and had very light armor. The plasma torpedo ripped through her gullet and punched out the other side killing those that stayed on board. The life pods were targeted by the Dreadnought’s point defense lasers and the survivors forever knew darkness.

The Nova Hunter lay dead in the system her hull ripped in half with most of her crew dying of suffocation from being sucked out into the cold void of space. The rest had been burned to death by the pin point accuracy of the ship’s automatic targeting system…..

The last person to die was the good captain himself. He looked at the Krechian warship from his life pod’s window section. He curse himself a fool upon realizing he had been betrayed by his own government and people. The whole mission to Hawkeye was a set up to give the Krechians some political advantage for a war or some other devious scheme. The Captain then shouted a curse at his devious people as the cold uncaring point defense laser destroyed his pod in one deadly shot…..


The whole affair took less than an hour but not a single survivor was detected in the end. The old Dreadnought made a cloaked journey back home. The leaders of the independent systems had got what they wanted and it only cost them the lives of three hundred and fifty people…….


12 Months after the Incident……..


The Space Station Hansia was the largest and most well armed space station in this part of space. This massive star base had been built by some long lost alien empire that had once ruled this section of space. The humans had claimed it and used it as a nexus of trade and community within the Uncharted territories. The Station had access to every space route from Hextor to Earth provided one specified which wormhole junction they wished to use.

The Space Station was now full of visitors, merchants, politicians, and soldiers. The Nova incident had raised an out cry across the territories. The rumor was that a Galactic superpower had struck the Nova to frighten the systems into succeeding into their insidious empire.


The residents of the Uncharted territories valued their freedom and sovereignty, but it was a well known fact that the larger powers of the Galaxy did not recognize the rights of small system based governments. The time for peace and unity was now. The political leaders of every major system had sent a delegate to negotiate with each other to hammer out a treaty or some form of non aggression pact between the systems.….

Conference Room of the Hansian Space Station......

“Ambassador Reginald! Don’t be absurd the fact is it was your people that started the frontier raiding in the delta quadrant of the territories with your absurd claim of dominion over that area!,” exclaimed, The raging Ambassador from Zelon III. The rest of the conference room of the station was just as loud and robust with Ambassadors and diplomats hurling accusations and insults at each other.

The fighting was to be expected but did not help matters to find a more stable solution to the greater problem. This irritated Ambassador Rigel of Krechinheim the main military power in the uncharted territories. The Krechian military had been using mothballed and abandoned ships left over by the greater powers of the galaxies. This gave the Krechian war machine a huge military boost.

The Krechian economy however, was in the tubes thanks to this predicament and the people lived in a hopeless state of poverty and starvation. The only hope for a man or woman in Krechinheim was to join the military early and fight in the wars to support their families and keep the politicians in power. The system was famous for it’s internal unrest and constant socialist coups and brutal crackdowns.

Ambassador Rigel was a product of this brutal time. He was a lean tall man built like a soldier. He seemed to be the strongest of all the delegates and obviously had the most military training in this group. It was no secret he was a member of the inner circle of the Krechinheim government. His position gave him a lot of personal privilege. The Ambassador also had a lot of ambition that radiated at the others like a wolf among sheep.


The other diplomats cowered or cringed in fright at being near his presence. They knew reputation of the martial society that made the Krechinheim a major system power. The only two delegates that did not cringe or cower was Fredrick Kormov of the Techno-Republic of Galador and the Balthazar Vorkov of the Trade Union of Terastada

The three powers had long been enemies of each other. The Trade Union had hated the Techno-Republic's communal economy plans and had tried to evict the Galadorian government out of their uncharted territories upon Republic’s refusal to change their command market ways.

This had lead to a long and bitter war between the technological advanced Galadorians and the mercenary fleets of the Terastadi. The Krechians had a decade later joined into the fray in the hopes of pushing both powers away from their respective positions near the wormhole junctions.

This lead to the wormhole blockades and the embargos that had greatly weakened the Krechian economy. The Krechians retaliated with their superior military force and brought a huge amount of damage to the Galadorians research facilities and their bio domes that housed large amounts of their population. The Terastadi had also suffered a great loss of profit from the Krechian pirate raids on their merchant vessels and the constant orbital raids and bombardments on Terastada herself…

The three men looked upon each other with disgust and hatred. These people had been mortal enemies for years all their lives they had learned to fear and hate these people and now to keep their freedom and sovereignty they now had to ally with them. It was going to be a long and troubling conference…

Future scholars of this particular sector would question the level of interaction that Earth and her neighboring systems actually received. The nearest intelligent civilization had been based over sixty light-years away until the 2400's. What they would understand however is that the visit of the Grand Unified Federation of Perimeter Defense to one of its branches was simply a chance encounter

It so happened that a small task force of seven old Tsuhihiko-type warships was transiting just outside any Gaean space at 550c when one of the ships just incurred a nasty engine core accident. Apparently, some fool technician had switched a power conduit with a magnetic antimatter pipe, and ruined a large part of the core room. To make matters worse, he had disengaged the AI protector because "[he] didn't trust its judgment." The leak had been patched by suppressing the whole engine room, but that meant that this particular ship would be out of superluminal transport for the time being.

The zero-time disentanglement communication systems were activated aboard the lead ship, the Supremacy, and told Secondary Command some fifty light-years away that they were going to be late for their training exercises. At this point, sensors aboard the Supremacy identified the large Hansia station at two light years away only.

Identifiers went crazy here. The Hansia's design architecture and sensor signature were very consistent with an old ally of Perimeter Defense, a race that disappeared off the radar many, many years ago. It was noted to be active, and even with lifesigns aboard. Beaming out an "attention signal", six ships towed the seventh at a leisurely 95c, (any faster and the backs of the graviton emitters would be torn off) hoping for repair assistance or otherwise. They would reach the station in just under seven days.

The Bryn Shanderan science vessel Galileo (http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/32850170/) was on exploration duty once again, her usual deployment since the ship's heroic mission to Sculptor. This time, she found herself in the boondocks, exploring the area near a handfull of run down civilizations that barely made it onto even the most detailed starmaps.

On the bridge, Rear Admiral Thompson was busy chewing out one of his supply officers. Apparently, the stock of one of the most important resources on Thompson's ship was dangerously low.


"What do you mean that we've only got six bottles of alcohol left on the entire ship!?" exclaimed the frighteningly sober Admiral.

"I- I don't know how it happened. Hold seven was full of kasks, bottles, and kegs before we left." explained the worried clerk.

"Seven!? I told you to have them load six! Seven isn't nearly large enough for this long mission, so I suggest you get out of my sight before you end up swimming among the stars!"


The terrified officer was gone before Thompson had even finished his threat. Without his precious supplies, Thompson and the crew would surely go mad, probably endangering the ship. Clearly, a solution would have to be found fast.


"Admiral, I'm sorry to intrude, but we might be able to resupply at one of the nearby systems. They might be barely inhabited and embroiled in anarchy, but they'll probably have what we need." suggested the navigation officer.

"Very well, Jim, but you'd better hope that you're right. Give me a map of the systems."


It took a bit of work, but a map of the systems was eventually found among the old paper copies stowed in one of the supply closets on the bridge. After surveying their options, Thompson and the navigation officer decided to head to Hansia Station for resupply and perhaps liberty for the exhausted crew.

Shortly after the course was set, the ship exited hyperspace a few million kilometers from the station, her shields up and weapons armed. In this region, there was no real power structure to prevent pirates and other brigands from attacking anything they pleased.

The seven ships exited superluminal transit 200 million kilometers away from Hansia. From here they engaged low hyperspace-assist travel at exactly one c towards the station.

Aboard the Supremacy, Director/Commodore Ramon Nepumoceno looked at an image of their location. It was a fairly large station, seeming to be armed with particle cannons and protected by refractive shields. The design details were familiar indeed; Nepumoceno was a Lieutenant when his nation was in trade agreements with that forgotten race, and he remembered the facades and external architecture of their ships and outposts well.

Memories? Brings back memories? He asked himself. If one can call that incident in the torpedo room with Ensign Grace Lederman memorable...
"Sir." A young ensign perched from a sensor console. "New contact. Closing onto the station at six million kilometers. Her shields are up and weapons are charged."
Nepumoceno took a look at the holographic projection. "Can we handle it? If they engage, of course."
"The scans indicate no weapons that we would be unable to counter. The ship itself doesn't have a strong distribution of weapons for its size. It might not be a warship. Scout or science?"
"Good observation. What about shields?"
"They have good shields. Plasma, refractive, and a layer of reactive. They'll take a beating and then some. From what I can tell, though, the physical armor isn't very good, though. The shields are probably there for standard protection, not warfighting. A good Doppler torpedo or kinetic projectile from us might pierce their shields, and then the release charge will puncture the armor."
"All right. Send this order to the other ships. Charge the reflex capacitors on their shields and armor but don't release the energy. Keep our shields and weapons down, but be quick to raise if they attack. Ensign, one more thing. Are they attached to that station?"
"No, sir, apparently not."
"All right. Let's keep it safe, here, people. We don't want to start a war. Not anymore, and not again."

The group slid forward, all the while transmitting to home base the encounter at hand. In space, when an unknown vessel gets close with battle systems fully charged up and ready, you have to be ready to assume the worst.

OOC: Just a FYI, the Galileo class is more or less just a light cruiser lengthened and packed with science equipment and an improved sensor package. It's even more heavily armed than its parent Suiseiseki (http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/43147098/) class, which is for all intents and purposes, a heavy cruiser labled as a light cruiser.

OOC: Hmm. Sounds a bit stuffed there, but I'll retcon that. Maybe, though, there's a bit of scaling down militaristically to make room for more exploratory stuff?

IC:
"Ensign Maile," Nepumoceno chirped from behind Maile's seat.
"Sir?"
"Your sensor play needs some work. I reviewed the target. You failed to check for depowered weaponry, and assumed that powered weapons were all there were. Our incoming contact has an impressive weapon distribution across its hull. A failure like that in an ongoing conflict could have caused us our lives."
"I-I- I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."
"To give you credit, you were probably right about the armor, but there are indications that this ship is much more than just a science vessel."
"Of course, sir. I apologize again."
"Don't let it happen again."

A small vessel, no more than 60 meters in length, stood stationary only a few light years from the charted edge of space. This ship was piloted and operated by twenty insectile creatures not seen on this side of the galaxy for many decades. The ship remained cloaked and undetected by hostile scanners as it in turn scanned the surrounding regions of space for resources.

Resources indeed were detected... many valuable metals and fuel sources that could be used by the Empire to expand their dominance over hostile impurities. What fascinated them further were the scattered technological developments that occured over several dozen choice worlds. The detected technologies present seemed to be designed to counter each other, suggesting anarchal and exploitable weakness.

Further investigation was required and the scout ship charged its hyperspace engines and sped forth to examine several systems up close. It wouldn't be long before they stumbled across an archaic space station to study.

Ambassador Rigel looked upon his enemies and surprisingly he had managed to say, “Listen, We all know that the Nova Hunter was destroyed by heavy plasma weaponry. It is a well known fact the only power here that has that kind of fire power is my nation.


Your nations ships do not have the capacity to hold those kind of weapons and my nation would never fire upon our own ships so this has to be the work of another power that has weapons equal to my people’s military.

We all know my people salvaged those ships and thus it has to be from a power that is trying to send us a message. That message is surrender or die.”


Fredrick frowned his robotic eye seemed to focus on Rigel and it seemed intent on looking for signs of him lying. The robotic optical implant did not detect any signs of lying from this supposed Ambassador from Krechinheim.


Fredrick replied tactfully, “ If what you say is true, We must begin re-arming our fleets and preparing for a long a drawn out war with this power. This will be very trying for us all we lack the strength and power to battle outside powers alone.”

Balthazar added almost as if it was written from a script, “If only their was a way to organize ourselves and form a united arm against this outside threat. I mean we all want to be free to run our own systems in peace but the larger powers refuse to let us. I believe we should form a non-aggression pact to give us all time to build up our strength.”


Ambassador Rigel grinned like a shark and said, “I suggest we contact our home governments and let them know that we need to form some treaties to prevent current infighting from weakening our positions.”


The assembled ambassadors all nodded in agreement, the points all made sense and a larger power had to be dealt with before petty infighting could continue. They all left to their quarters to send their coded transmissions back to their homeworlds letting them know to halt all hostile operations across the territories…


In a matter of a few solar days, The territories had no more space battles or quick wormhole raids and this made it harder for the local pirate ships to hide in the now empty space ways of the uncharted territories…

"Ensign Maile," Nepumoceno said. "Do you see what I see?" Both were looking at one sensor console.
Maile spoke without taking his eyes off the holoscreen. "Yes, sir. Sensor ghost with linear progression- shit."
"Here's your chance to redeem yourself. What do you think?"
"Small, cloaked vessel, maybe. We'd never detect this thing with the old scanners at more than a couple of light-weeks. Its course takes it right within range of the station."
"This and that other ship. Damn it. Lucky us, we're seven. How close are we to the station?"
"What a coincidence; we're just about to- there. We're now inside mutual visual range. We can see them, they can see us."
"Communications! Send a message to that station. Check if they speak something that we can decode, and try to ask for repairs or drydock."

The scout vessel exited hyperspace as it approached the space station, the ship's scanners picking it up as something of worthy note. Entering a stationary position nearby, the lone ship continued its scan of the station, reading weapons and defense systems. What they found was an impressive display of power, certainly nothing that the lone scout ship could take on by itself.

One of the insectile creatures inside was reading out a list of items detected within the station from a screen panel readout to its commander in a series of buzzes and clicks when a red light besides the screen started blinking. This was a surprise to all on board, as the red light indicated that they themselves were being detected and scanned. It surely had to be impossible, as their cloak systems had not been deactivated for attack.

Irritable buzzes and hisses escaped the commander's thorax as it issued its commands, "[Discover the vessel reading us and probe it with our scanners. Discovering what means of technology could penetrate our cloak could prove beneficial to the Empire.]"

The source of the scan was being searched for nearby, and to the relief of the scout ship's crew did not originate from the space station. Methodical tracking of the scan's origin continued and finally a source was pinpointed. The scout ship's main screen brought up a small group of seven warships, one severely damaged internally.

"[Scan their equipment,]" clicked the commander harshly.

The scout ship directed its scanning instruments towards the seven old warships, studying the capabilities they held within. Schematics began filling the scout ship's main screen, highlighting the capabilities of each vessel.

In the time that had elapsed since Galileo had changed course, Thompson had long exhausted his supply of alcohol. Now completely sober for the first time in any recent memory, a hangover of biblical proportions had kicked in. All lights in the bridge had been shut off and complete silence had been ordered with the note that anyone who violated the noise ordinance would be shot into space.

Meanwhile, the guns and shields remained at full power as the ship closed in on the station.

The Supremacy slid about two million kilometers ahead of the battle group, and its two-and-a-half kilometer length (it approached broadside) could already be seen from windows at the Hansia. For some reason, no response was being given by the station, and Commodore Nepumoceno ordered the Supremacy forward to examine for life and any activity. By now, the ship was in very clear view of both the Galileo and the tiny Vzxlackian scout ship.

Thirty-year-old scanners, archaic but still powerful, swept the station and its surroundings. At this very close range the Galileo, despite its now very low EM signature, was being swept and evaluated. The cloaked scout ship's (it was now confirmed that it was a cloaked vessel) own scans were detected, and noted. Nepumoceno was very wary of the two unidentified ships' actions, because the last status report on this region was nearly four years ago, and reports stopped because some damned pirates took apart the probe that sent them. Only two types of people use cloak, in his opinion: Those that don't want to be seen because they're about to do shit, and those that don't want to be seen because they've already done shit.

Scans confirmed life and activity, but still no response from the station.
"Lieutenant McAnders," Nepumoceno prodded a communications officer. "Where is my response?"
McAnders sheepily replied: "It's somewhere out there, sir. They should be hearing us...maybe they're a bit busy on that side."
"I don't have time for busy drydocks. Tell the other six to form up at our position. We'll stay here for another two days before leaving. I don't like a ship with the status of the Jordan just floating around unserviced. Ensign Maile, what about our two companion visitors?"
"They're just sitting there, it seems. The small ship is making a hefty scan on us. I felt our weapons and sensors pinged."
"Our shields aren't up yet, right?"
"Right, sir."
"Good. If a war starts up, it won't be our fault, then. McAnders, push for more comms at the station. Constant broadcast. I'm going to bed, and no one wakes me up unless that station responds or you have a death wish. Jackie," he motioned to a young woman, his daughter, sitting on a section of platform railing. "Sweetie, you wanted a taste of command, right? Here's your chance. Keep the place steady, and work on the reports on this station. If things get rough, notify Lieutenant McAnders."
"Jackie" replied: "Thanks, Dad. I mean, Commodore."
Nepumoceno smiled and left the bridge. Jacqueline Murray-Nepumoceno took the master's chair and was in command. "The Commodore's a wise old man. You can rest assured that his talents and skills passed over to me." Her voice was proud and confident, but of course she was only a cadet. Some manner of snickering was diffused across the room. She ignored it, though, knowing it to be affectionate in nature. She was a good girl and liked among the crew.

The seven Tsukihikos arranged a capital phalanx (somewhat incomplete due to the strange number) in front of the Hansia, and waited for action on its part. And for Nepumoceno, on the Galileo's and the Vzxlackian scout's parts. All the while, the Federal Administration listened in to the exploits of these ships and the station, perhaps readying an opportunity to test their new transportation system.

"[Commander... there is another vessel approaching the station, weapons armed,]" reported one of the technicians seated around the scout ship's bridge. "[Assumed to be hostile to this sector of space.]"

"[Has it detected our presence?]" the commander buzzed and clicked in reply.

"[Negative, commander.]"

"[Then ignore it.]" the commander ordered. "[Take us in closer to the crippled warship whose fleet scanned us earlier.]" Fully sharpened claws tapped together in the dim lighting of the bridge as the commander bristled with anticipation. Saliva dribbled a bit from a pair of ant-like mandibles... the creature hungered to know what they could learn from the scanner systems they located on each of the seven warships.

The scout ship moved swiftly from its position across the space station towards the seven ships positioned in an imperfect phalanx formation. The great speed that the scout ship's engines possessed brought them around beside the damaged warship and ceased movement there. To their observers, it was noted that the ship remained cloaked and no sign of weapons being armed. Instead, it merely stood stationary near the damaged vessel.

"[Scan the vessel for life signs,]" ordered the commander in its authoritive hisses and clicks.

The scan was carried out and returned. "[Life signs detected, commander.]"

"[Then the boarding party will need to carry protection,]" clicked and buzzed the commander. It turned around in its commander's seat towards a group of seven trained Vzxlackian warriors, their mandibles and exoskeletal carapaces larger and more developed than the workers that monitored the scout ship's equipment. "[You will board the injured warship through the transporters armed with the plasma assault rifles. Seek out one of the scanner devices on the ship schematic and salvage it. We will bring the scanner back to the Empire for study. Our plans for these distant regions of space are threatened if our cloak can be penetrated.]"

"[For the Hivelord,]" the Vzxlackian warriors clicked in unison before filing out of the bridge to the ship's armory and then the transporter room.

"[Send a signal to the closest Imperial Battleship,]" clicked the commander immediately after the warriors filed out.

"[Commander, the armed vessel has just fired a shot at one of the warships,]" reported one of the Vzxlackians at the sensor console. "[Should combat erupt, we may be caught in the center. May I suggest readying weapons?]"

"[Remain calm and set shields to maximum,]" clicked the commander. "[This hostile vessel may also provide a sufficient distraction while our team salvages the injured warship's scanner technology.]"

Already on the damaged vessel, the Vzxlackian warriors were hastily moving towards the closest ship scanner. They were prepared to fire on any personnel that got in their way. This mission was important to the Empire. Should Vzxlack's plans for these regions of space come to fruition, they needed to know how to improve their cloak from detection.

Jacqueline Murray-Nepumoceno's eyes widened as the particle stream lashed out just over the shield projection. At this range, targeting systems could virtually be replaced with manual joysticks and be just as accurate; clearly, it was some kind of warning shot. "Oh, shit! Dad didn't say anything about combat measures!"
McAnders spoke. "You have to be ready for anything, Cadet. I'll call the Commodore."

While the people of Perimeter Defense nations were humanoid, they were not primarily human. Co-existing on the same homeworld for about 50,000 years were two variants on the human blueprint, although compatible with and friendly to each other. One resembled standard Terran people, while another comprised supercharged versions of the people, eight-footers who lived for 300 years, could carry thrice their weight, and thought much faster in tactical situations. While they carried no distinction in terms of nomenclature (they were still referred to as human), they were very good in battle, as marines or as pilots. As leaders they were excellent and thought fast. And among these anomalous humans was Commodore Nepumoceno. At 125 years old, he was legendary for the battles he'd experienced and sometimes led.
These years thought had made him so overtly wary and somewhat xenophobic that he was often kept away from exploration vessels.

The call he received was a notice that a warning shot had been fired. "They're shooting at us, sir! Warning, though."
"Well, what the hell are you calling me for? Shoot back! Warning too, but make it dramatic!"

A small asteroid, perhaps eighty meters across, floated a few million kilometers from the Supremacy. Now this Tsukihiko was old, of course, but by the Fletcher Armaments Mandate, all ships in service should be refitted with weapons proportional to their size and purpose, and should be upgraded according to the needs of the weapons to be added.

The Supremacy carried a Stringbreaker "whip", an extremely powerful beam that disrupts the vibrations of supersymmetrical strings as matter and energy. This can have several effects: a target may turn into gold, a gravity wave, or a laser beam. The primary effect though is that at weaponized energy levels, the strings can break and open up, causing an effect that most closely resembles "material entropy" or unusable matter. As any shields that do not rely on non-M space are based on supersymmetrical string law, the Stringbreaker can circumvent shield systems by passing through them. Simply put, it is a disintegrator ray gun of death.

The Stringbreaker whip had a distinctive whip-like motion to its beam due to the wavy nature of the particles involved. It lashed back near the Galileo, but instead hit the asteroid. Glowing in all colors of the spectrum, the massive piece of iron slowly faded away as its component strings harmlessly dissipated into surrounding space. Gravity-based sensors could detect distinct waves expanding from the asteroid's position.

Of course, any weapon not made by God has its drawbacks, and one is that the whip matrix cannot be fired for more than three seconds at a time, with a resting time of twenty-five seconds. Thankfully, each of the Tsukihikos carried a Stringbreaker.

"Effectual?" Nepumoceno asked the bridge from his quarters.
"The asteroid's a bad cello now." "Bad cello" was slang for items destroyed by a Stringbreaker.
"Good job. Why do you think they shot at us?"
"They must be hostile or something. We're intruding on some business? The bastards have even deployed fighters."
"Send them a 'f**k off and die' message. We're here to get repairs on the Jordan, not start a war. Prepare our fighters, but keep the bay doors closed. And stop those goddamn alarms!"
Another crewman spoke: "Sir! Message from the Jordan."
"What now!"

Meanwhile, on the damaged Jordan, the marine team of very big guys had just taken out something insectile. A cloaked boarding craft was seen attached to the hull. Material signatures resembled the scout ship hovering nearby. At this point, all ship components were locked down with very traditional heavy doors, and an AM-440 antimatter torpedo was readied, loaded with enough destructive force to get rid of an island of tungsten.

The boarded Vzxlackian warriors were only a few corridors from the closest scanner device according to the schematics they were following. One of the warriors, close to two meters in height, had stayed behind to repel the warship's inhabitants while the rest continued their mission. It was afterwards that a lockdown began and heavy steel doors began hindering the progress of this covert mission.

The lockdown was not a permanent problem, however. The situation was quickly remedied by bulkhead cutters. A truly slow and monotonous process, but efficient nevertheless. Depending on the setting, the bulkhead cutters could penetrate the heaviest blast door. The insectoid creatures would not be denied their desire of tactical knowledge of the cloak-penetrating scanners.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Far off at several thousand lightyears away, a wandering fleet of five Vzxlackian battleships and a single dreadnought received the signal from the scout vessel. The command crew aboard the monstrous dreadnought observed the report displayed on the main screen.

"[Detected viable sites for conquest. Resources numerous. Technology adequate. Foreign vessels found with cloak detection. Sent reconnaissance to damaged vessel to salvage a scan device for study. Possible chance for this scout vessel to be lost in the process. Reinforcements requested. Coordinates are as follows....]"

The powerful general commander of the fleet clicked and buzzed its orders to its navigation technicians; the request was to be heeded. The fleet would head for the foreign station immedieately and rectify the situation. The conquest was yet to come.

OCC:can i get in on this?

OOC: Sorry for the delayed post. I have been sick for the last couple of days. I will try to catch up on current events. I just want you all to know that your little military engagement action is going to spook the representatives and that is going to play right into Ambassador Rigel’s hands. He is going to say this battle is coming about because several alien powers are seeking to invade the Uncharted territories. That could mean the United Sovereign Alliance is going from a peaceful democratic government of various systems to a military dictatorship under the guise of interstellar protection….


North Calaveras: The thread is open so feel free to jump in. I just ask that their be no god moding...



IC:

The Space Station’s staff was not meant for military encounters. The Staff was mostly merchants and old ship hands that had made the station their home. The sudden encounter of three alien vessel firing upon each other had brought a sudden panic onboard the station.

The soldiers stationed onboard were given orders to man battle stations and a red alert was initiated by the Station Master. The Station’s powerful energy shields raised to begin deflecting any hostile projectiles and energy weapons that would surely strike at the station. The powerful weapons systems of the station also began to train their sensors upon the three vessels.

The Space Station’s powerful array of spinal mounted particle beam cannons and Centurion Class target seekers locked onto each target. The point defense lasers and missiles also began to activate and started preparing for possible enemy strikes. The massive shuttle bay doors began to open to allow several fighter and bomber craft access to the battle field.

The remaining starships in the system also began to power up their own defenses in defense of the station. The diplomats vessels were still in attendance waiting for their masters. It seemed that this intrusion had cased the natives of the Uncharted territories to begin jumping the gun…


The Station Master Jack Connelly an old Krechian military officer was in a rage. He was ordered to protect the diplomats from any pirate or outside interference and these intruders had come along and ruined it. The old Krechian sent a wide beam transmission to all the vessels that were not part of any Uncharted Territory Civilization,

“This is Space Station Hansia, You are all in direct violation of article 23 of the neutrality charter. This station is considered neutral and protected space and you have broken this widely accepted code of governance. You are all considered criminals within the Uncharted territories as such you are to lower your shields and prepare to be boarded for crimes against the charter. If you fail to comply we must assume you are a hostile power and we will use force to bring your lawless behavior to an end!”

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Ambassador Rigel smiled in a wolfish kind of way and said, “Listen friends, I have received a report that we are currently being threatened by several alien powers. The Station Master has already reported that three alien vessels have appeared and begun to fight amongst themselves.

We have already figured out they are not one of our vessels. This leads me to believe that we are being invaded by several alien powers and they are even now fighting amongst themselves to take our freedom away! We will be slaves if we do not unite under one banner and who better than a Krechian banner.

We are warriors that have never been beaten in open battle. We can win the day if the systems unite as one power with Krechian muscle, and Galadorian technology, and Terastadi credit. I for one shall personally guarantee that all governments can remain in power of their own systems but they must all agree to provide ships, men, credit, and technology to our united forces!”


The other ambassadors and diplomats looked amongst themselves. They were all men that had spent their lives and negotiators and talkers. They did not have the stomach to admit the fact that they did not know that much about military situations.

The Krechian ambassador made a good point to them, united they could defend themselves and all it would cost would be their military forces and a tax to some united governmental structure to provide security for the uncharted territories. They all made a unanimous decision in that moment to unite their various navies, and armies to the greater good of protecting their sovereignty from these obvious hostile powers…..

The heavy attack from the Galileo, the boarding craft, and now the message from the goddamn station all worked towards giving Commodore Nepumoceno a very bad day.

"Shields?" Nepumoceno called out.
"65% and burst-falling, at elapsed time four minutes. Dammit, we never got around that shield upgrade! We're still using the arrays from the invasion era!"
"Weapons status!"
"We're not firing yet."
"DO IT!"

At that moment, the torpedo tubes released thirty Doppler torps against the Galileo.[/] They carried a powerful blue light source on their tips, and accelerated to exactly the speed of light in a straight line towards the ship. At the point of the torpedo, the light waves were pushed into infinite blueshift and thus completely pierced shields as they passed. They punctured the hull at strategic locations and detonated their 1 kg loads of antimatter. Massive explosions rocked the [I]Galileo's surface, but due to insufficient target data, not a single torpedo went deep into the ship.

The five other weapons-capable ships arranged themselves around the Galileo at a range of six million kilometers and began aligning their Stringbreaker matrices towards distributed areas, when suddenly the powerful quantum weapons shut down. A computer warning on each ship's weapons station stated that only one ship should fire the weapon, lest the beams cause a dangerous rift. They instead opened fire with conventional weapons while the Supremacy's own Stringbreaker charged up.

While the battle raged on, Nepumoceno blasted a very clear message at Hansia Station, indicating that they were only looking for repairs and that the other ships turned hostile against them, and then McAnders paged him.
"Sir, our Stringbreaker is ready."
"Get off this comm and use it already!"

The Stringbreaker matrix charged the "whip" up and was about to bring it down upon the Galileo when it shut down again. A computer stated this time that it was shut down manually. The code came from---
"Central Command has disabled our use of the Stringbreaker, sir. Reasons unspecified."
"Get me on the line with them- here. Admiral Kassidy, we need to use the weapon against hostile forces! They just opened fir- No, ma'am! We're not- Christ! The bitch put me off!"
"Orders, sir!"
"Continue conventional weapons fire! And get someone to help the Jordan with its alien problem!"

Aboard the damaged Jordan, heavy assault drones formed from the quiet utility nanomachinery fog that was injected into the air. The fog also turned the air inside the locked-down areas into antibiological agents that slowly ate away at living tissue and some basic space suits. The boarding craft was ejected into space and detonated, while the hull was reinforced with an antipersonnel shield. There was one problem, however...

The reactor core shield was taking up too much energy from the ship for internal defenses to work properly. Only a fifth of the normal amount of drones was released, and the fog was taking too long in generating the bioagent.

As the five supporting Tsukihikos released more Doppler torpedoes swarming around the Galileo, alternately puncturing holes in it and then detonating, it seemed that the old battle group was in for a rough ride for the next few moments...

Thousands of light years away, in a sector of space that was recently expanded via a space-time fold, a high-level CentCom station watched the drama unfold through a distant, cloaked vessel that was undetected by neither their own ships nor the opposing forces, for it was well-hidden in the event horizon of a nearby black hole. Admiral Hannah Kassidy had just broken comms with Commodore Nepumoceno. She had killed his use of the Stringbreaker for the purposes of peace, and the irritating, overcautious maneuvers of an old-timer would not start a war. It appeared, however, that a local war had already started. Now, a fleet of one hundred very new and very large Kairos-class ships had just been test-warped a hundred thousand light-years through the newest in Perimeter Defense transportation technology - the disentanglement conduit. Capable of transferring vessels from point A to B in absolutely zero time - and without detection at all - the new system was advanced, efficient - and mostly untested in battlefield situations. It was impractical to set up mock battles, and only good wars were good fodder. Now that peace was no longer a bad excuse, and that a local war (not to involve the Federation as a whole) was beginning to start up, perhaps a "neutral" set of vessels would be a good introduction.

Of course, the United Sovereign Alliance had no idea that a set of alien vessels arriving completely without warning would be neutral. Perhaps it would be a bad idea. But Admiral Hannah Kassidy did not know that. If the battle group was destroyed, then perhaps the Federation would want a wee bit of retaliation here.

Indirect lances of fire lightly strafed the shields of the cloaked Vzxlackian scout vessel. Minimal loss was taken as a result to the shield status, only lowering to 99.999999999% efficiency. The commander of the ship remain unconcerned, especially when its communications reported a response received from an approaching Vzxlackian fleet. Reports stated that a dreadnought was among the fleet, and with a dreadnought present, victory would be assured.

"[Commander, we are receiving a message from the station, it seems they've detected us finally,]" reported one of the Vzxlackian technicians. "[Translating now....]"

“This is Space Station Hansia, You are all in direct violation of article 23 of the neutrality charter. This station is considered neutral and protected space and you have broken this widely accepted code of governance. You are all considered criminals within the Uncharted territories as such you are to lower your shields and prepare to be boarded for crimes against the charter. If you fail to comply we must assume you are a hostile power and we will use force to bring your lawless behavior to an end!”

A truly sadistic, buzzing and grating sound escaped the mandibles of the commander. It was the Vzxlackian equivalent of laughter. "[Ignore the message,]" clicked the commander. "[Should one of their bording vessels approach us, decloak immediately and fire upon it. The fleet is on its way, and once it arrives, we will have already won.]"

"[Commander,]" another Vzxlackian began. "[Our bording party's transport has been ejected and detonated. A shield has been raised.]"

"[That could complicate the mission. Make sure they know about it by transmitting a signal on the private band.]"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"[Yes, commander, understood,]" the lead Vzxlackian warrior replied before communication was broken. It looked to its surviving comrades, two of them a yard back firing their rifles at the assault drones that had formed not too long ago. "[Our transport has been lost. Once we achieve the scanner instrument, we should search for another means of escape.]"

"[Toxic levels in the air are beginning to form,]" reported a warrior who peered at the small device that led them towards their target. "[I suggest we move quickly. The device lies just within the walls of the next hall.]"

While two of them remained behind to fight off the assault drones, the Vzxlackian warriors moved ahead towards the next blockaded bulkhead. Once again the steel alloy was sliced through like the others with a careful, but this time more hasty, precision.

Right before the spinal cannon fired, its energy buildup was detected on the tactical screens all over the Supremacy.

"Massive energy signature along the lead offensive's spinal column," Tactical Officer McAnders reported. "Our shields are at 43%. Commodore, I have the flywheels at 25,000,000 RPM. We can restore our shields to full on your command."
Nepumoceno frowned. "I have a better idea. Petersen! What's the status on my-"
"Done!" Petersen interrupted. "I did a hardware override on Kassidy's lockdown! While the main power source won't work, those flywheels can work the Stringbreaker matrix!"
"Let's do it! Block that particle cannon beam and hit the bridge!"

The Stringbreaker matrix came to life as a blue whip formed from a port on the Supremacy's hull. At this very moment, the Galileo's spinal gun fired its beam at 0.982c, and the whip collided with the megaparticle stream. Being still restrained by quantum mechanical properties, the megaparticles' constituent superstrings all opened and broke apart in amazing flashes of light. The beam, pushed by the strength of the spinal gun, recovered itself and then was about to strike at the bridge when the matrix suddenly shuddered and rippled. It was overheating due to the unconventional power supply used. With an original slated firing time of three seconds, the Stringbreaker beam went down to 1.5, and the firing computer, noting this reduction in force, chose an easier target and attempted to reorient the beam towards the engine block. As it brought itself down, the beam broke up and faded, just grazing the topside.
The Stringbreaker matrix exploded in a dramatic fashion as the flywheel energy was loaded impossibly fast into the capacitors. A spatial shockwave expanded from the destruction, rocking the Galileo, the six other Tsukihikos, the Vzxlackian scout, and the station Hansia, and took away a part of the [I]Supremacy's[/] external sensory array.

"Damage report!" Nepumoceno screamed. "I say again, get me a goddamn damage report!"
"We're bad! The flywheels blew up the Stringbreaker, and shields are at 22%! Casualties on almost all decks, numbering 356 out of 4,500!"
"Our superspace sensors our gone. We're deaf-blind to ships more than fifteen light-years out."
"Weapons are good, except for the Stringbreaker, of course."

Nepumoceno took all this in under a second, and instantly asked for another damage report - this time, on the other ship.
"Intership sensors are gone too, right along with the superspace ones. We've got nothing here."
"Spent too much with that whip-stunt," Nepumoceno shot back. "Flywheel status?"
"5,000,000RPM."
"Put it on the shields."

The Supremacy's shields hit 55% from 22%, but the flywheel storage system hit zero RPM again. They wouldn't be doing a quick "regen" for another few hours.

The Jordan's sensor array room was filled with all manner of cloaked infantry behind walls, consoles, or sitting on the sensor array itself. It had just been figured that the aliens were attempting to steal the sensor system. Why they wanted to do so was a mystery, seeing as the technology was Federal stock and thirty years old. But perhaps it had to do with the cloak detection. As the lights of the cutters appeared through the thinning blast doors, the infantry prepared for a kickass firefight that would either light up someone's career, or someone's lifeless corpse.
But wait a second - wasn't toxic gas building up? Gas levels were still too low to be lethal, as the conversion was very slow. Now, however, power had been diverted from reactor containment to intraship defenses - and the utility fog nanomachines were picking up speed.

The Hansia readied its weapons, and other ships from the U.S.A. were to stream in at any point. These nine participants in a clueless war brought about by disinformation were to play a massive role in the formation of a militaristic faction.

And as these powerful conflicts played on, Admiral Kassidy had just finished preparations on the disentanglement conduit focusing array. When those damned Tsukihikos would ultimately get overwhelmed by many, many incoming alien forces (she'd intercepted and decoded transmissions all over the place), her plans would come into view.

Trouble is, her plans seemed awfully problematic in light of Federal policy...

OOC: Oh wow... that was horrible. Absolutely horrible.

Semi-IC, and disgusted at the god-moding:

But it was too late... the Vzxlackian battleships and dreadnought arrived. At once they opened fire on the Perimeter Defense ships and blew them into crispy smitherines with IGNORE lasers. After the deed was finished, the Vzxlackians turned and left the once good but now ruined RP never to be seen in this thread again.

OOC: It couldn't have been that bad. I nuked my biggest weapon, every other ship can't fire it, and if you're talking about your boarding party, you can't expect to make all that noise without someone taking a look. Aren't you going to "[expect enemy contacts on the other side of this blast door; the drones should have relayed our presence to the ship's defenders]" and blow someone up?

OOC:

What happened, I just got online after work and find my thread has been abandoned. I was about to post the United Sovereign Alliance’s reactions and find that everyone has jumped ship?

OOC: Okay, fine, I suppose I went over the top here. I haven't RP'd in quite a while; guess I went over the god-mode. I'll make an edit and deal significantly more damage to myself, while dampening my own destructive force. How's that?

OOC: Okay, fine, I suppose I went over the top here. I haven't RP'd in quite a while; guess I went over the god-mode. I'll make an edit and deal significantly more damage to myself, while dampening my own destructive force. How's that?

OOC: The problem isn't your ratio of damage dealt to damage taken, it's that you posted another player's damage at all. That is Not Done. You say what your forces are trying to do; your opponents decides how much their forces are affected by it.

In general "unstoppable weapons" are a bad plan. Always leave a way out. If your opponents refuse to take reasonable damage, point that out to them. If they persist, find other players.

OOC: Guess that sounds reasonable. Just have a habit of finding myself in RPs where "BOOM! Your ship's a burning wreck" is popular. Not 'round here, though. I'll get to that edit soon enough.

OOC:

What happened, I just got online after work and find my thread has been abandoned. I was about to post the United Sovereign Alliance’s reactions and find that everyone has jumped ship?

OOC: I'm more than willing to re-start where I left off before interacting with PD.