NationStates Jolt Archive

"Astrogation survey, all hands general quarters!"

The alarm went out throughout the hold of the ship, as the crew scrambled to get into position for the dreaded event to follow.

On the bridge, the captain was glaring at his astrogator.

"How did I let you convince me to do this again?"

The astrogator looked back with a butter wouldn't melt in his mouth expression, and replied, in a very thick drawl.

"Ah reminded y'all it was paht of ouh mission statement. Have to do at least one per cruise sah."

"And you just had to pick a binary system?"

"Yessuh."

"The frame dragging anomaly last time wasn't bad enough?"

"I'm pretty sure I've correted for it this time. If we enter the bow shock with the spin of the star rather than at the intersection of their bow shocks, we should avoid the frame dragging." The accent fell away as he lapsed into a technical explanation.

"Alright commander Weaver, get this over with."

Marine Quarters, ASS Vorpal Blade:

"Astrogation survey, all hands, General quarters!"

"Maulk maulk maulk SHIT!" Marines in catsuits scrambled to get into their bunks and get them sealed before the survey began. Gravity in and around the bowshock(among other things) could be interesting.

"Ok Two Gun, what the hell? I thought no more Astro-surveys?"

"Commander Weavergot the Skipper to ok it Jaen, just so long as we don't run into yet another unforseen problem, like we did the last..." He paused and counted in his head for a moment. "Seven times now I think it is. Point is thus. We probably won't all die in horrible agony as standing gravity waves annihilate our tin can. Suitable?"

"That's actually not very reassuring Two Gun. For one, it still leaves open the possibility of sudden, violent, relatively painless death."

"Ask me for miracles whydoncha? Never satisfied. Not even if we hung you with a golden rope."

"Only if you tied the knot wrong."

Bridge, ASS Vorpal Blade:

"Commander Weaver."

"Yessir."

"Why is COB standing on the port bulkhead, and why is his coffee tasting, what was it COB?"

"Soprano sir. I'd also like to note that you sound orange. This almost comes close to this one time off fiji..."

The rest of the bridge crew tuned him out, his long winded recountings were standard fare by this point, and it took too much effort to shut him up.

"Right, Commander? Any reasons at all?"

"Sensory confusion. Gravity isn't the only thing messed up in this area sir, his perception of gravity is off, and so are ours, it's messing with his equilibrium, among other things."

"So, new problem...what do we do about it?"

"Absolutely nothing. Once we're through the bow shock it should be gone."

True to his word, not two minutes later the COB returned to the floor, on his feet, still holding a partially full coffee cup.

"Tastes like coffee again."

"Captain, we need to chill. That run took longer than usual, and we're at about 80% heat."

"Alright. Let's chill. Then we can finish this damn survey and begone."

"All hands! Prepare for Zero Gee, we be chillin!"

The massive converted submarine let out its towed heat sink, and set to work radiating all of its built up waste heat. They were in a comparatively "hot" portion of space, and it was going to take several hours for them to get back to surveying anything. In the meantime they were going to have to just sit, be quiet and make as little heat as possible. Most slept, some read, and in Commander Dr. William "Call me Bill" Weaver's case, did tensor calculus in their head to keep themselves from losing their minds. The ship simply sat there, radiating heat and particles like it was going out of style, which it probably was.

The Galileo-class science vessel Ernest Shackleton, commanded by Captain Thomas Ingram, emerged from hyperspace.

"Hyperspace module disengaged, we have emerged from hyperspace five astronomical units from the center of the system," Lieutenant Powers reported from her position at the helm.

"Sensors Officer, begin scanning for gravitational anomalies and check the area for other vessels," Captain Ingram ordered before turning to the Flight Deck Liason. "Launch probes from the catapults before launching fighter patrols."

"Aye sir."

The Ernest Shackleton launched three probes, each would begin taking local measurements of gravity and would test the communication's system aboard the science ship (her communications array had been malfunctioning recently).

"I do not like the yellow ones," Hvatgeirr spluttered. His big, black, glossy eyes winced as he tasted the colourful, biscuit-like nutrient bar in his delicate mouth, and did his best to maintain dignity and not spit it out across the controls of the bridge. Carefully, he returned the pristine white plate to the top of the console and took a sip of some pure water to try to eradicate the taste. Alvíss simply cocked his head sideways in bemusement and squinted at him a little.

"There is no cause for such a volatile reaction," Alvíss said, taking the plate for himself. Adorning its surface were a variety of small coloured squares, similar in texture to biscuits but sporting vivid shades of colour. Each different colour possessed a distinct flavour, reminiscent of the real food that Asgard used to consume in times immemorial. Nobody was really certain if the yellow nutrient bar tasted anything like the food it was supposed to taste like, because nobody had eaten the real thing in so long that no-one had any memory of eating real food at all.

"If you do not like it, simply do not eat it," Alvíss suggested as he picked up another yellow bar and carefully bit the corner off. "Considering we are all clones, I thought perhaps that you might like them too."

"I do not understand how you can eat them," Hvatgeirr pondered with a slight shudder. "The red ones are much better."

Hvatgeirr and Alvíss were the only two Asgard aboard the Skidbladnir, a Beliskner-class cruiser currently on extended exploratory duties. Most of the systems aboard the ship were perfectly content to run without attendance from crew members, and theoretically she needed only a single crew member to function. But Alvíss was a scientist first and foremost, even moreso than other Asgard, and besides anything else Hvatgeirr did not relish the prospect of being aboard this large ship alone for so long. Despite their advances, Asgard were still sociable folk and could succumb to loneliness and depression like so many sociable species if left on their own for long enough a time.

Especially now. Ida was only a few minutes away via intergalactic hyperdrive, but until their mission was over they couldn't simply hop back. They were tasked with searching for a viable location to build an Asgard waystation - a colossal space station with the intent of establishing an accessible location for diplomacy and trade, as well as placing a more permanent Asgard presence in the Milky Way. Supreme Commander Végeirr and the High Council had issued them with a specific set of coordinates which they were expected to explore - it was up to them to determine the suitability of each area for a waystation in terms of local astronomic phenomenon, regional politics and the possibility of some other government laying claim to it, not to mention the local availability of resources that might be useful. Particularly neutronium.

But Hvatgeirr couldn't imagine anybody establishing a waystation here. Not having as much of an appreciation for every single one of the seemingly identical stars that inhabited every single galaxy in the universe like Alvíss did, he simply saw this area as a desolate place in the middle of nowhere. It had no perceivable strategic advantage, and it certainly didn't look any different than the other dozens of star systems they had charted. He'd prefer them to position it closer to Midgard - or 'Earth' as the locals called it - where something interesting could be found. The whole point of a waystation was to allow for civilisations with slower faster than light abilities to make contact with the Asgard easily, and he couldn't see that happening here.

But one of the holographic screens distracted them from their musings and munchings as it moved across the room to their location and displayed a pulsating flash of light at coordinates a few lightyears from the Skidbladnir.

"What is that?" Alvíss asked curiously, craning his head to look at the screen.

"It would appear that the sensors have detected an artificial source of radiation," Hvatgeirr said thoughtfully, placing his red nutrient bar down on the plate to lean in for a closer look. His big black eyes blinked a couple of times as he took in all the runes the computer was feeding across the screen. "Significant quantities of particles and thermal energy are being radiated from that spot. It would appear to be a ship."

"Curious," Alvíss said. His traditional response to anything unusual, and he didn't see the need to change it now. "Perhaps we should investigate?"

Hvatgeirr was already a step ahead of him. His delicate fingers manipulated two white, pearl-like stones gently across one of the glossy black control panels. The computer responded with a soft bleep, and another holographic screen appeared above - plotting a course from their present location to the object of interest, several lightyears distant.

The Skidbladnir moved forwards, abandoning its detailed scans, and plunged into the cloud of purple energy that formed ahead of it, disappearing into hyperspace. A similar hyperspace window formed near the strange, heat-radiating ship and the Skidbladnir was suddenly deposited back into normal space, the window disappearing into nothingness behind it.

Hvatgeirr wasted no time. He promptly sent a holographic signal to the unusual ship, which didn't require any kind of reception equipment for them to see it. As his short, skinny grey form flicked into view within the object, he spoke up to them.

"Greetings from the Asgard," he spoke in his soft, somewhat comforting voice. "My name is Hvatgeirr, I command the Asgard cruiser Skidbladnir. We detected your vessel on our sensors and noticed that your ship appeared to be radiating significant quantities of heat and particulate matter into space. Are you in need of any assistance?"

If the probes had any ability to sense heat at all, they would rapidly take note of the starship and its still slowly cooling radiators. The starship, on the other hjand, had not yet noticed it had company. The range was so long it was going to be nearly an hour before the first evidence of the other ship reached them, and in that time they would be horrendously vulnerable.

Earth:

"I'm telling you I will not sign off on your server, it's total horsemaulk."

"We have Adar working on it. It's getting better fast."

"You have a natural processes philo and a biology philo. You don't have anyone who knows maulk about server tech."

"I know James, but we haven't been able to get ahold of anyone."

"Why didn't you just say from the start? I'll talk to a few people and point them in your direction."

"Thanks Jim, that'd be right helpful."

"Not a problem Ed. I'll be sure y'all get somebody. It's a good system, just get the bugs out, and I'll even endorse it."

OOC: To be finished later, gotta workl now.

If the probes had any ability to sense heat at all, they would rapidly take note of the starship and its still slowly cooling radiators. The starship, on the other hjand, had not yet noticed it had company. The range was so long it was going to be nearly an hour before the first evidence of the other ship reached them, and in that time they would be horrendously vulnerable.

Earth:

"I'm telling you I will not sign off on your server, it's total horsemaulk."

"We have Adar working on it. It's getting better fast."

"You have a natural processes philo and a biology philo. You don't have anyone who knows maulk about server tech."

"I know James, but we haven't been able to get ahold of anyone."

"Why didn't you just say from the start? I'll talk to a few people and point them in your direction."

"Thanks Jim, that'd be right helpful."

"Not a problem Ed. I'll be sure y'all get somebody. It's a good system, just get the bugs out, and I'll even endorse it."

OOC: To be finished later, gotta workl now.

OOC: I must say, for an intro thread...nice, Solar Alliance.

IC:

The system was far enough away - yet close enough - to Dominion space to warrant an official probe scouting group to thoroughly analyze the system. Indeed, that was the common method of scouting out potential space possibly to be expanded into mining colonies, outlier agrisystems, resource developers, and other systems outside of the Shroud that served essentially as stellar factories and processing units for the burgeoning problem of population and resource consumption within the Shroud and the Dominion.

Following a positive probe report, a three-ship team would be dispatched to analyze any potential problems before an actual escorted colonization dispatch would be launched. It would be the team's job to take the probe's data, run it through every sort of test avaliable, predict potential and possible outcomes for any sort of development of the system, pinpoint potential benefits from production from the system to balance colonization costs, and to finally make landfall and test the planet out for a spin, so to speak.

So, due to colonization procedures - with probes being launched first in waves of 1-5 - it was little surprise that a system that seemed fairly normal - binary and main-sequence, multi-planet, fairly calm region - that a hyperbubble emerged in the midst of the system, roughly 3.4 AU out from the binary solar pair.

Probaly just another probe scanning group. Probaly. Well, maybe not.

The hyperbubble vomited up a Harvest-class bulk freighter from hyperspace, but the freighter was moving much faster than its usual sublight speed of 1200 MGLT. Rather, it blasted out at near-military grade acceleration, hidden gun mounts emerging from concealed turret points - clearly it was no standard freighter. Modified engine ports pushed the craft to higher and higher acceleration numbers to quickly clear from the hyperbubble that was now emerging close to the one that had pushed out the first craft.

Falling from the second bubble was a vessel clearly military in design; rather, a Legacy-class battleship. The vessel was immense; over a mile long and over a kilometer wide, the ship's dual-pointed forward weapons prongs propping a menacing smile towards the aft quarter of the fleeing freighter as it quickly made up ground - after all, the battleship, this one in particular the ADV Parasite of Liberty, was far quicker than the converted civilian vessel.

It was only a matter of time before the pirates in the freighter being chased would meet their makers...but if there were others in the system, interlopers could make things difficult.

"Automatic sensor alarm!" The Sensors Officer called out. "Gravitational anomaly... coming from within the star!"

"Start a sensor sweep... start with infrared imagery and work through the different filters on the visible light, ultraviolet and x-ray channels," Captain Ingram ordered. The Sensor Officer twisted the sensor selection dial, moving through different filters as the onboard cameras began to sweep that highly centralized location.

"Sensors are detecting some kind of localized heat anomaly. It can't be a natural phenomena," the Sensors Officer reported. Captain Ingram thought only for a second before issuing another set of commands.

"Go to alert status. Raise shields and change course to approach the anomaly. Is our communications system back online?"

"Engineering reports the communications array is back online. If we want to communicate with that thing, we'll need to utilize a high-band frequency."

"Make it so." Ingram cleared his throat before raising his suit's microphone to his mouth as the communications array began transmitting. "This is Captain Ingram of the Imperial Naval Vessel Ernest Shackleton. Please respond."

The ship simply disappeared. In fact, it had involved almost 5 seconds on the part of the crew to secure for FTL, and disappear safely several thousand kilometers away.

"I don't give a shit who you are, that's a very damn good way to eat a ton and a half of Quarkium."

Captain Spectre addressed the hologram harshly. It was the fourth time they had encountered a non-human race. The first three times they had, in order, been invaded by hostile biologicals, fought another, new form of hostile biologicals onbehalf of new allies, and been nearly reduced to scrap. The third time, they had fought the same enemies as the first war, on behalf of yet another race. Once again, despite significant upgrades to their armament, sufficient to kill most anything, thank god, they were still almost entirely wrecked by the onesided engagement. Coming to close to the human ship without announcing yourself was like begging to be reduced to atomic cinders.

Parasite had closed to firing distance as the modified bulk freighter continued to run closer and closer towards the binary pair at the center of the system - if they would ever reach it, at this point. The battleship angled forward batteries to pinpoint the shield generators to the rear of the vessel, preparing to smack off any defenses the pirate craft could mount against the battleship of the Dominion navy.

The pirates had some tricks up their sleeves, however. As targeting computers came online, the freighter popped up its own missile racks - three antiproton warheads flying out and streaming towards the battleship. PD immediately activated, targeting beam lasers sniping the missiles out of space in the span of less than a second. Counter move to the first move - and now the Parasite would respond.

Pulse cannon turrets riveted up from the fore of the battleship, swiveling to face the freighter and letting fly a hail of violet bursts of plasma as soon as they bracketed in on specific systems. The freighter attempted to manuever, but the civilian vessel wasn't designed for such - it was too big and bulky for such a military-like precision move. The torrent of energy slammed the rear shield quarter of the vessel, energy fields hissing and spitting green blasts of light as offense met defense. Rear cannons on the freighter activated, facing back and opening fire with concentrated energy beams as the battleship charged its fore prongs for a stronger attack.

But sometimes the Dominion didn't want to just annihilate those who had wronged them...and pirates rarely worked alone. These ones, in particular - a ship of the Sagitan Confederacy, a rebel pirate organization in the outlier territories of the Dominion - had to have accomplices. They had attacked and utterly raided a mining outpost on the fringe of space, and hadn't been smart enough to knock out any sort of communications - which was why the pirates were now fleeing from their untimely demises at the hand of the angry crew of the Parasite.

No, total destruction wasn't the key here - it was finding out what these pirates had been doing. Even as other blips began showing up on sensors and nav - evidence that other ships were in the area (and had no doubt, by this point, recieved the high energy output of the skirmish on their sensors) the key to locking down the opposing ship slinked towards a waiting assault pod. The creature - a Hish, one of the species of the conglomerate Dominion that also included Humans (as the captain of the Parasite was), Skrawl, Turians, Sangheili, and various other races - prowled into the hatch of the assault pod. Why send a full boarding team when one could send a one-man wrecking crew?

The Hish were a fairly intimidating race. Standing 12 feet tall, each was more than capable of ripping apart living beings with ease with a variety of weapons - natural tail-mounted blades of sharpened bone capable of decapitation or evisceration through the toughest of metals; kilograms of densely-packed muscle of such effect that would make a professional weightlifter cry; and a host of Dominion-made energy, projectile, thrown, and melee weapons that dotted the various bandoleers and belts that criss-crossed the spiked torso and spined back of the tall predatory reptile.

They were an oddity amongst the other races - they were exclusively a race of warriors. It was all they did outside of their own enigmatic homeworld, which was left mostly unmolested by the Dominion in exchange for the services of their best. The Hish didn't talk much, either - in rare occassions only, and sometimes to victims of their killing sprees. Their language was complex and spitting, traits that had even given universal translators fits when the Dominion had first run across the unforgiving Hish homeworld. But an intimidating, willing race of killing machines was just what the Dominion needed for a finishing touch of its amalgamation of species, from the smart to the savvy to the brutal.

The Hish were intelligent and sentient, to be true - their decentralized civilization nonetheless showed achievements of their own making them a definite sentient race. However, they had lacked space-faring technology when the Dominion had reached their planet - something none of the other races had experienced. The Hish had benefited mightily through the advancements brought about by the Amazonians, and hence they exchanged their best warriors in odd trade. But it worked.

This one in particular - its designation (name unknown) being PR48X9 (or Prab for short amongst the crew) - was not interested in any such details of the past - it was going aboard the assault pod to go deal with the pirates. The Humans and Sangheili and all of the Parasite could go scrounge what data they wanted - but the Hish wanted none of it. It only wanted to annihilate whatever stood in its way of...total annihilation of the pirates. It cared not for the other ships in the system as the other sentients no doubt already were upon the bridge. It cared not for the jolting launch of the assault pod, surrounded by a breeching escort of positron torpedoes to blast a gap in the shields of the freighter. It only cared about ruthless efficiency to satisfy the bloodlust of a species nearly left behind by spacefaring society.

"Oh, what is this?!" the Sensors Officer yelled out suddenly. "I am detecting weapons fire!"

"All hands, man your battle stations!" Ingram called out. Klaxons screamed as crewmen scrambled to get their helmets on, securing their suits and turning their rebreathers on.

"All decks reporting battle stations achieved. Atmosphere is being stored in auxiliary tanks," the Tactical Officer reported. No air filled the corridors and quarters aboard ship anymore, which made the chance of an explosive blowout less likely. Shield generators approached full charge and the FTL module was grounded out so as to make room for any overflow from the shield generators in combat.

"Attention science vessel!" Captain Ingram continued his radio communication to the Solar Alliance vessel. "We are detecting combat in this sector, do you require assistance?"

"Sir, we're picking up an abnormal Infra-red transmission, our technicians believe it's a ship shedding built up energy... Justs after some unusual activity, we believe them to be scans of some sort."

"Where did you get this information?"

"From one of our contacts, it seems someone was tracking some pirates and came across a ship."

"Well, why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Well, because... uh..."

"nevermind, what are you planing to do about it?"

"Deploy some of security personnel to deal with the pirates and send details over to the Marketing department."

"Hmmmm..."

"Sir, are you going to give the order?"

"No, Cancel the frigate and the marketing department... I'm going to go there myself."

"What sir?"

"Am I right that we've never seen these people before?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then I'm going."

"But what about the pirates sir?"

"They're pirates whoever's there can deal with it and if not them we can lend a hand. Prepare my shuttle."

"Yes, sir."

It wasn't so much a shuttle but a ship-borne palace, all the luxuries that the CEO of a corporation like TGM could want.

In a few minutes a number of consumables where refilled and the pilot was in his seat. Trevor Desorté, the CEO of The Garbage Men would himself make first contact with these people. Which was indeed quite unusual.

"Oh, what is this?!" the Sensors Officer yelled out suddenly. "I am detecting weapons fire!"

"All hands, man your battle stations!" Ingram called out. Klaxons screamed as crewmen scrambled to get their helmets on, securing their suits and turning their rebreathers on.

"All decks reporting battle stations achieved. Atmosphere is being stored in auxiliary tanks," the Tactical Officer reported. No air filled the corridors and quarters aboard ship anymore, which made the chance of an explosive blowout less likely. Shield generators approached full charge and the FTL module was grounded out so as to make room for any overflow from the shield generators in combat.

"Attention science vessel!" Captain Ingram continued his radio communication to the Solar Alliance vessel. "We are detecting combat in this sector, do you require assistance?"

The owners of the unknown vessel obviously did not understand the concept of lightspeed lag. The first message was just reaching them as the second was going out. Maybe he was prescient, maybe he was just incompetent, whatever happened, he was going to recieve the messages well spaced out, as the captain responded to each individually.

"This is Captain Spectre of the ASS Vorpal Blade. Very nice to meet you."

A Shuttle perhaps was not quite the right word for the ship that Trevor Desorté, the CEO of The Garbage Men, was on as he travelled through a wormhole that would convieniently put them 14 lightminutes away from the Solar Allience ship.

Perhaps a better word would be a space palace, it was Trevor's personal ship. 5 times larger than any other "shuttle" it had quite a powerful FTL and sub-light engines, as well as shielding and armour but it had no armaments at all.

As it arrived in real space it sent a standard EM radio frequency call to the ASS Vorpal Blade.


Greetings, My name is Trevor Desorté, CEO of The Garbage Men, an inter-galactic corporation that specialises in waste removal and management. However work is not why I'm here. I would like to request audience with your captain.

Several minutes later, the response went out.

This is Captain Spectre of the ASS Vorpal Blade, you may come aboard with a small escort if you desire.

The ship was quiet in space, still mildly warm in terms of overall heat, but not seriously hot enough to be forced to chill again soon. The visit would have to happen in the captain's wardroom, as it was the only truly suitable place aboard ship to do it.

"Can you get us a bit closer? I don't like this waiting..."

"It probably won't speed things up any faster probably will take 3 hours to get there via sub-light drives."

A cough was the only response...

"Alright, engaging sub-light we're on our way."

"Good"

It was then the message from ASS Vorpal Blade was received...

"Aha... he said Ass. Ahem.. okay now that I got that joke out of my system... Tell them me and 2 others will be attending, request information about if weaponry are allowed. and include course data in the broadcast.

The following audio message was sent


Trevor Desorté and 2 others will be arriving, what would be an appropriate armed status for these others. They are after all providing security for the CEO of a major intergalactic corporation, following this message we are including our planned Trajectory to meet up with the Aye,Ess,Ess Vorpal Blade as binary data. We estimate an ETI of 3 hours and 14 minutes from the sending of this message, which should be exactly 3 hours from when you receive.

We know, it's asinine. One of our allies saddled us with it by not understanding what the acronym meant. They may bear weaponry. Our marines are of course armed, and I see no reason why two security guards would be a danger. We will move to rendevous with your ship. My astrogator projects that that will cut the time from 3 hours to slightly more than one hour, assuming you maintain stated course and acceleration.

The ship heeled about, turning towards the other vessel, and accelerating rapidly to meet up with them. The ship was oddly shaped, as large as an old style surface battleship, it had a bizarre...sword...sticking out from the front. In all other respects, it was a smooth hulled submarine, unremarkable in the extreme.

We have no issues with the acronym, we see worse everyday. Thank you for alteriing your course to speed this process up, It is much appreciated. Which method would be the most appropriate in terms of docking our 'shuttle' with the Vorpal?"


The kept course and acceleration constant, no need to alter things unnecessarily. For the entire remaining time until they were close enough for close-quarter manuevers to get him and his security section on board.

Trevor would make a note to ask about the 'sword' when he was on board, he didn't really want to talk too much over the waves because of the other ships in the vicinity.

"Hail Vorpal Blade, this is the Imperial Naval Vessel Ernest Shackleton," Captain Ingram began his transmission. "We are on a survey mission of this star system and were evaluating its suitability for a series of high-energy weapons tests involving the stars. You wouldn't mind if we exchanged information in order to expedite our survey, would you?"