Trailers
19-08-2007, 21:36
OOC: Thanks Metallinauts for breaking my thread title writers block. :o
IC:
Now, kinsmen, take up thy shield, and thy spear.
For a moment, time stopped. Primus Trailica stopped it's rotation, the distant, twin fires of Helicus and Astrica hanging motionless in space.
Our enemies are upon us, they come in the thousands, intent to drag us down to the old, dark days where the light of Zeus shines not.
A light day from the Capital of the Traileric civilization, the void of space was alive with fire. Thousands of slipstream gates opening as one, for a few moments, outshining the distant stars in the background. Sixty four hundred capital ships, numberless strikecraft, and the remaining seven Colossii who were loyal to Themistocles appeared.
They have forgotten the old ways, they have forsaken the Gods!
Sirens blared in empty canyons of metal. The continent spanning capital city of Met locked down. The great Atlas Slings began their slow ascent from underground silos; bank after bank of planetary defense missiles angled nose to the sky, awaiting a firing solution. The great siege shields slowly enveloped the four habitable worlds of the Traileric home system.
We will suffer them no longer to live! Death to the heretics!
The great assembled armada drew into loose formations as it made it's way toward the vastly outnumbered rebel fleet.
This marks the beginning of a new era! An era born of blood and fire!
The frail rebel fleet drew into a tight formation around the Odysseus Corridor, they would hold it as long as they could..long enough for the planets to fully raise their defenses..
We, the People, we once more have voice! We will NOT be downtrodden, we will NOT be content to merely fuel the fires of your industry! We will not watch our fathers dying in the streets, ignored! We will NOT stand quietly by as the old temples are covered by the machines of your greed! Night has fallen on the people of Trailerica, but as the night passes a new dawn will rise on the people of Trailers!
The voice of the frenzied young Emperor echoed through the rebel fleet. Ships with long range weapons had by now acquired firing solutions, and copious amounts of plasma, densened tungsten, and high-yield missiles were being traded between the two fleets. The personnel aboard Corridor Station had already been evacuated, for the defenders were already wavering. Outnumbered nearly five to one, the outlying small capital ships were beginning to drop like flies. Entire wings of rebel strikecraft had been lost before the loyalists had even launched their own, and the seven Colossi were moving slowly to the front. Mere minutes into the battle, and the defenders were routing, many of them trailing smoke and flame, or leaving behind chunks of themselves. The few who still had shields raised were dangerously close to burning out the projectors. Rebels flooded through the slipgate at the center of corridor station, falling back to the capital planet of Primus Trailica. Nearly a hundred frigates had been lost, two Hiveships, a a dozen destroyers, and most of their strikecraft..
Far above Primus, the super-capital classes, and the three Rebel Colossi waited to anchor the rebel line. Victory seemed hopeless. No more than half of the withdrawing defenders had managed to get through the gate when it inexplicably shut down, cutting off those who remained from an FTL jump to the main entrenchments. Some four hundred rebel vessels were torn to shreds in a matter of seconds, vastly overwhelmed by the superior loyalist force.
Now unopposed, Themistocles turned his attention to the damaged and abandoned Corridor station, which fared no better than the marooned support ships.
Now with the FTLi field down, the Loyalists could approach at their leisure. Planetary defenses cycled up, and the battered rebel fleet loosely circled around their three crucial Colossi, bracing for the final clash..
IC:
Now, kinsmen, take up thy shield, and thy spear.
For a moment, time stopped. Primus Trailica stopped it's rotation, the distant, twin fires of Helicus and Astrica hanging motionless in space.
Our enemies are upon us, they come in the thousands, intent to drag us down to the old, dark days where the light of Zeus shines not.
A light day from the Capital of the Traileric civilization, the void of space was alive with fire. Thousands of slipstream gates opening as one, for a few moments, outshining the distant stars in the background. Sixty four hundred capital ships, numberless strikecraft, and the remaining seven Colossii who were loyal to Themistocles appeared.
They have forgotten the old ways, they have forsaken the Gods!
Sirens blared in empty canyons of metal. The continent spanning capital city of Met locked down. The great Atlas Slings began their slow ascent from underground silos; bank after bank of planetary defense missiles angled nose to the sky, awaiting a firing solution. The great siege shields slowly enveloped the four habitable worlds of the Traileric home system.
We will suffer them no longer to live! Death to the heretics!
The great assembled armada drew into loose formations as it made it's way toward the vastly outnumbered rebel fleet.
This marks the beginning of a new era! An era born of blood and fire!
The frail rebel fleet drew into a tight formation around the Odysseus Corridor, they would hold it as long as they could..long enough for the planets to fully raise their defenses..
We, the People, we once more have voice! We will NOT be downtrodden, we will NOT be content to merely fuel the fires of your industry! We will not watch our fathers dying in the streets, ignored! We will NOT stand quietly by as the old temples are covered by the machines of your greed! Night has fallen on the people of Trailerica, but as the night passes a new dawn will rise on the people of Trailers!
The voice of the frenzied young Emperor echoed through the rebel fleet. Ships with long range weapons had by now acquired firing solutions, and copious amounts of plasma, densened tungsten, and high-yield missiles were being traded between the two fleets. The personnel aboard Corridor Station had already been evacuated, for the defenders were already wavering. Outnumbered nearly five to one, the outlying small capital ships were beginning to drop like flies. Entire wings of rebel strikecraft had been lost before the loyalists had even launched their own, and the seven Colossi were moving slowly to the front. Mere minutes into the battle, and the defenders were routing, many of them trailing smoke and flame, or leaving behind chunks of themselves. The few who still had shields raised were dangerously close to burning out the projectors. Rebels flooded through the slipgate at the center of corridor station, falling back to the capital planet of Primus Trailica. Nearly a hundred frigates had been lost, two Hiveships, a a dozen destroyers, and most of their strikecraft..
Far above Primus, the super-capital classes, and the three Rebel Colossi waited to anchor the rebel line. Victory seemed hopeless. No more than half of the withdrawing defenders had managed to get through the gate when it inexplicably shut down, cutting off those who remained from an FTL jump to the main entrenchments. Some four hundred rebel vessels were torn to shreds in a matter of seconds, vastly overwhelmed by the superior loyalist force.
Now unopposed, Themistocles turned his attention to the damaged and abandoned Corridor station, which fared no better than the marooned support ships.
Now with the FTLi field down, the Loyalists could approach at their leisure. Planetary defenses cycled up, and the battered rebel fleet loosely circled around their three crucial Colossi, bracing for the final clash..