NationStates Jolt Archive

Across the late evening sky, a massive arrowhead-shaped formation slowly cruised onwards towards a distant shoreline. Below the many craft that hovered high above the darkening seascape below, a calm sea heralded the roar of engines as the wind lessened. These craft were airships: thought of by many as relics of an archaic era, these craft were far from inferior in modern theatres. All had 36 hours until they reached their final goal of Shorfercia, and the awaiting war. A blood-red sky behind the advancing vehicles reminded all of the encounter they soon would have with the massing Corporate Alliance forces.

For one group however, battle would be much sooner. Aboard the AAS Tesla, Captain Ya'san sat with his lieutenant as he viewed fleet imaging footage of the surrounding area. Every so often, a beam would pass over the virtual battlefield map, indicating the presence of RADAR targets either friendly or unknown, cross-matched with infrared and visual footage processed aboard the network of computers aboard each airship, combined to make one single, powerful network. The one thing he was observing was from the most recent satellite scan of the area, which had picked out something disturbing: another craft apparently out of thin air, heading towards Shorfercia. So far, they had no idea what it was, or what its purpose was. With the footage that was looping giving them a rough idea of where this obviously advanced airship was headed, he had finally received orders.

He looked out of a side window of the Aerocruiser he was aboard, watching the escort airships rise upwards as they dropped ballast, to change altitude so that they could catch the most favourable winds. The airship he was on gradually started sinking, as he gave orders, alongside another escort: a small Aerofrigate named the Ja'il, after a small island off the Alfegan coast. From here, he could see the control surfaces move as the airship changed course, and aboard this airship feel the two massive turboprops change their speed. He started pacing along the bridge, gazing intently at all the control stations. One was covered in hundreds of dials around an electronic display, each telling gas pressure in cell sectors or other such details around diagnostic widgets. This was the airship observation station, the man sitting in front of it wearing a headset linked directly to the engineer radio channels.

He finished his walk looking out towards the back of the airship, to the retreating main fleet. From his vantage point, as the sun finally sank below the horizon, he could see the silhouette of the massive missile gondola, smaller missile pods along the underside in the same line. Right behind, the engine gondola cast its own shadow, extra armour plating securely attached onto the basic frame, and props just protruding from the rear.

He turned back around as he finished his walk at his station, in the centre of the bridge. In front of him, the pilot and co-pilot busily chatted as they adjusted the airship's course with the computer-plotted intercept course with the unidentified craft. He flicked on the ship communication channel, before talking, his voice echoing from the PA system onboard.
"As you are all aware, we have been sent to intercept an unidentified airship. As it is, we don't know whether it's friend or foe. Until then, I'm raising alert to yellow alert. ETA for sight is 2 hours, 1 1/2 hours for radio contact. All crew on non-essential duties or rest, I am calling for you to prepare the boarding equipment: I have orders for this enemy vessel to be taken as intact as possible, and since we have no specific Aerodropcraft with us or Aeromarines aboard, you'll be boarding.
May we have the winds behind us!"

The engines changed to a howl as they were increased to maximum speed. Soon, the airship was moving forwards at a relatively rapid 110km/h. So far, they had had no RADAR signature, and little heat signature to confirm the location of this craft: being of some advanced construction and likely limp design, it would not show up on RADAR, or appear as a small cloud.
The craft moved on in an intercept course, at an altitude of 4000 metres.

The HMS Nimbus was a destroyer, sent by the United Provinces to disrupt Shofercian air traffic, as well as enemy reinforcements coming in by air. Having only arrived, it had had no success whatsoever. It, on the outside, looked to be nothing more than a civilian air ship. The flag that it bore was not even Vantanian, but instead Vetalian.

"Captain, I think we've found a target... looks to be another airship! No, wait, two! Something big, maybe a cruiser, and a little one, frigate sized. They're on an interception course. Orders?" said one man, who manned the radar.

"Ready the guns and missiles. Man the turrets. But don't be to overt about it. From the mission briefing, the Mafia and Griffincrest have used airships in the past, so they might be allies. Just in case they're not though, I want all radio channels monitered. Distribute the guns amongst the crew, and bring out mister Markov." Captain Rogers replied, briskly moving the the gallery. Before him, a pane of plexiglass revealed naught but red skies. Soon, the ground below would match the sky, he thought bitterly, thinking of the Vantanian allies in Griffincrest.

The captain's line of thought was lost, however, when a man wailing in Russian was dragged into the room by two ensigns. Rogers walked up to the man, who was clearly broken by his time in the closet. "Mister Markov, this is your chance at redemption. You were found guilty in both a Vantanian and a Vetalian court of the murder of three Vantelanders. You were going to be put to death for your crimes. Now, you can save your life. Say exactly what I ask you to say, in Russian, with a Vetalian accent, and you will be deported back to Vetalia with ten thousand Vantemarks and a clean slate. Do you understand?" the Captain said, staring the criminal straight in the eye.

"Yes. Anything for my life." the man said, behind a thick Vetalian accent, clearly deprived of sleep. And so, the man was strapped to a seat, while Rogers returned to scanning the horizons. There was nothing more to do, just wait for the inevitable.

(OOC: I'm gonna tweak the stuff I had originally put up to make it more plausible. I did some research and some of the wildly advanced things I used weren't neccessary. The basic outline will remain though. Also, I'm having trouble deciding on a powerplant for this thing, any suggestions? You seem to know your stuff.)

The Indomitable had picked up the Alfegos fleet through the CA's intelligence network and watched as a group split off, apparently to intercept them, and changed course in due time once Admiral Towser had reviewed the situation and send a communication to DT' new ally nearby:

From Admiral Towser:
VANTELAND:
I understand your country posseses an airship fleet of some kind. It looks like Alfegos is asking for a good old-fashioned dirigible fight. I would be honored if your forces would join with the Indomitable in its maiden battle.

Soon after he ordered the tapered nose of the 1500ft craft around in a wide turn and sent it after the offending airships. The three Rolls-Royce RB211 Turbofans on the underbelly of the control gondola hummed to cruising speed in synch with their 6 smaller cousins along the rest of the envelope. 6 of these Rolls-Royce F402-RR-408 turbofans were offset from the bottom of the envelope, riding near the bottom part of the sides really with their cowlings flush to the envelope, and could vector thrust in any direction.

Weapon systems were housed in four bulbous pods along the sides of the ship that hugged the envelope and conformed to its shape. Each was several hundred feet long and contained a large steam lifting bag, known as a control baloon, serviced by a water-tube boiler. The pods had firing capabilties for missiles of every creed and housed quite a few types as well as a number of bombs with Shofercia's name on them. The control gondola, the only free hanging compartment, was wide and long for this size of airship and contained equipment that controlled navagation, fire control and ordonance, and countermeasure arrays that operated through slots in the envelope's sides. Aditionally, four Mk44 40mm autocannons can be found along the hull, one at either end, top and bottom. The forward on on the bottom is on the underbelly of the control gondola.

"Elevator up 10 degrees," Towser ordered, "Vector some additional vertical thrust and keep the control baloons hot." The Indomitable complied with his commands as officers carried them out and soon the Indomitable was rising rapidly to an advantagous altitude, cruising at a serene 65 knots.

In preparation for battle a small helium lifted sensor array was released from the tail and let trail far behind to increase the onboard sensors' range.

(OOC: I thought it would've been the DT ship intercepted, but if the Vanteland ship is nearby, so be it. As for propulsion... for the nice large airships, use gas inside the envelope, since you will not sacrifice that much fuel for the amount of efficiency you have, and it'd be very safe right inside the envelope, surrounded by helium. For much smaller ones, diesel or kerosene are your best bets.

And these ain't dirigibles... just remember your technical terms, that a dirigible airship has no internal structure ('tis blimp). These airships are of the size an internal structure is necessary (though a-rigid doesn't roll off the tongue as well...).)

The airship continued moving ahead as the sky around darkened, along with the lights in the airship gondolas. Only dim red lights were being used now for illumination, to reduce its visibility as much as possible. Meanwhile, the data from High Command had come back, along with the latest satellite footage.
"All stations to red alert! We have found the airship is from Deserted Territories, with possible re-enforcement from newly-identified Vanteland forces. Pilot, change course to 190 degrees: ETA is now reduced to 40 minutes visual. We're going headlong into this! Weapons stations, prepare missile racks to fire. Defence board, set all countermeasures to yellow, and prepare the flick to red should the need arise. Increase altitude to 5000m, and prepare for a broadside encounter."

Electricity could be felt as it flowed into the control stations, and form there to the machinery. The massive ailerons moved, shaking off roosting seagulls as the airship changed its course. Inside the missile gondola, mounted aft of the control area, the hundreds of missiles on their racks began chirping electronically as they woke up. Already, the targeting device on the underside of the gondola was preparing for the missiles to fire, rotating around as it searched for both infrared and visual targets. Being equipped mainly for mid-range attack, it had no missiles with ranges over 150km. And with the night closing in, range would be reduced even further.
Inside, a red light glowed on the nose of a group of 8 missiles, pointed sidewards towards the gondola sides: these were missiles that had hardly been used outside practice before. Whilst the crew aimed only to immobilise and take over the enemy airship, these missiles were designed to completely destroy an airship, by turning the interior fuel gas core of an airship's cells into a fuel-air explosive. Whilst on their own not enough to turn the entire airship into a pulp, the following strikes would turn the top of the gasbag into a mess of punctured cells, gas loss through the upward motion of the lighter-than-air gases providing the final blow to the beleaguered beast.
Those tactics for now were to be avoided: lessons had been learnt since the Battle of the Burning Skies.

16 men sat in their bunk part of the airship, taking their final 15 minutes of rest before final briefing and preparation. The commander of the group, Lieutenant So'a, knew high command had not been thoughtful. All these men only had basic boarding training, enough for pirate vessels and the like but maybe not enough against a military airship. And with only a helmet, Grade 2 bullet-proof vest and AF-07 assault rifle, they seemed dreadfully under-equipped. Only Jal'soi seemed equipped for the task, with his own FN MAG general-purpose MG and a few belts of his own ammunition. His protests had finally found their reason, meaning it need not sit on top of the coffee machine for all eternity.
One man walked about tossing ammunition to the men, 6 magazines each. Guns started spreading about the rest of the crew, ammunition loaded in case of any attempts at counter-boarding. That tenseness set upon the crew as they awaited the battle before them, with men nervous for the battle, unable to bare the calm before the storm.

Technictians and engineers moved throughout the ship along the central catwalk inspecting the crisp new gasbags as word spread through the ship of the coming engagement. In a compartment near the middle ladder 10 marines suited up and loyed with their guns, checking things just to waste time. They had no idea a boarding would ever even be considered and despite their training the only percuation they took was to insure the various hatches at the tail, nose, along the top of the evelope and other places were secure. Observers were on station atop the ship but they only had views of two hatches from their plexiglas domes. Concurrently, the security feed operator had left his post with the runs and hadn't arranged for a replacement. As Rick spent the minutes approaching the comflict in the lavatory, it was doubtfull he would see the light of his console screen before noon the next day.

Damage control procedures were initiated and repair materials were prepped and moved to convientent locations. The technictians and engineers were the most highly trained of the young airship crew, with extensive in-combat exterior and interior repair training. The ship wasn't prepared for ship to ship combat but its various anti-air missiles were arranged into missile pods directed outwards while other longer ranged models were loaded for the initial engagement. Primarily, a quadruplet of AIM-120's that had been loaded for fighter deterent but that Admiral Towser had requested be calibrated to send off a warm 'hello' to the approaching enemy.

Other weapons systems initialized as the Mk44 calibrated themselves and missiles were armed. Elevators and rudders were tested. Soon the fireworks would begin.

Towser paced the split-deck cabin of the controll gondola. It was spacious and designed to fare emergencies well, on the higher level consoles with all manner of data from weapons to countermeasures were staffed by operators and the Admiral had a good vantage point over the rest of the gondola and the view out of the plexiglass shield. He could also step down three steps to quicky be in the thick of the action where his skilled aeronauts manned the controls. Two of them operated the elevators with the captain of the watch overseeing them and the rudderman. Other sailors managed ballast levels, gas levels and other key components.

He was ready to engage the Alfegos flotilla. He had no doubts about the capabilities of his craft. However, he was aware of the experience he was going against and would be a fool if he wasn't apprehensive about going head to head with such a long history on his first engagement. To quell his fears and those of the men, he relayed messages with his Nimitz support vessel and had two F-35s put on alert, ready to scramble and save the "Indomitable" should its name forsake it. With the final loose ends coming together, and 15 minutes to show time, he keyed the ship-wide intercom and gave a brief and arousing address:

"This is Admiral Towser speaking. In just under 15 minutes we will be luanching this ship's maiden assualt with four AIM-120 missiles to be fired at them from over the horizon. Not long after, we will undoubtedly become engaged in close and fierce combat with two larger ships crewed by more seasoned personnel. But our people have overcome greater feats than this before: Deep within New Prussia our forces captured and held Barokin for the duration of the conflict (OOC: and theoretically remain there today but that was a year ago and it's all dead) and fought to our last ship. Facing deadly odds against our senior opponents. But we thrived and luanched salvo after salvo of shore-based missiles and rockets at our foes, daring them to approach the shores. And we will do the same today, for this ship is our island and we have plenty of missiles and rockets to go around! We will out manuever our foes and shoot holes in them untill they surrender or sink into the sea! Deserted Territories will luanch itself into a new era of airship battle against this mighty foe and rival. The success of us today will fill the headlines of the world tommorrow. Prepare men, battle stations."

The intercom clicked off and a siren blared twice as red alert lights came on. Men who hadn't yet found their post mobilized and the Indomitable prepared itslef for battle.

"Keep her above them. Check our altitude against their's every time Leafanistans intelligence comes in. And get a lock on them with our own gear as soon as possible," Towser directed before returning to his cabin for one last thing.

OOC: Before I reply, I want to know how either of you knew that that ship was Vantanian.

OOC: Before I reply, I want to know how either of you knew that that ship was Vantanian.

OOC: A) I didn't and never rped that I did.
B) I sent a discrete message to your nation, I rped it being close by so you would have a feasible chance of getting there in time. Since an airship was convienently close-by anyways, it doesn't really matter.

The range began closing. Using modified SAMs to provide the airship with long-range capabilities, the airship had a better chance at intercepting fighters than if it had normal AAMs to fire. But with the target still unclear, and the engagement time uncertain, they had no targets for now.

The Captain sat at the control station as the virtual icon for the enemy airship slowly moved along a projected line, a large circle around it the estimated range. Looking across the bridge, he noted all was quiet.
"5 minutes men. We shall sing the national anthem."
Across the gondola, the rousing chorus of the song echoed out, a loudspeaker playing it to the engineers in both the engine gondola, missile gondola and within the envelope itself who were making the final preparations for the attack, checking gas lines for leaks and equipment for emergency repairs. Coarse Fegosian syllables rang out across the dark sky, snatched away by the wind. As they reached the 6th and final verse, the Observer started tapping keys: the accompanying Aerofrigate sensors had picked up a heat signature. Soon, the signal strength was increased as the target/designate unit on the AAS Tesla picked out that signal, coming almost straight towards them. The final chorus echoed across the airships as the designator began its work, using the engine locations from the satellite pictures to deduce where the possible weaponry was located.

"Men, we have them in our sights. I would like to say again I have enjoyed every minute working with this crew, and should anything happen to me that you carry on without care. Frigate, can you hear me?"
"Yes sir: we read you loud and clear. Shall we start the attack?"
"Just put all you have to anti-missile systems, and keep an eye out should any re-enforcements come our way."

A man tapped him on the shoulder, noting the opposing airship's altitude and bearing.
"Ballast to 10 percent pilot: we're going to see how high they can go!"
The Captain knew that the maximum safe operation height of his airship was about 7000 metres. Above that, and massive cell damage from pressure difference would occur. The same though would happen to the enemy. But to show one's top to the enemy was to display a weak spot. The airship lifted up to 6900 metres as the lead ballast dropped away, now leaving them at the mercy of the gas distribution system. Already, gas was being tapped back into the emergency reserve tanks, to try conserve the cells.

"Computer's locked on the engines: shall we commence fire?"
"Yes. Let's start with a song to test their defences."

By that, the Captain meant the SkySinger missile. On the side of the main missile bay, there was a small crack as explosive bolts detonated, leaving the side panel to drop down towards the sea. From it came a cloud of smoke and a jet of flame as a missile propelled itself from the craft. Armed with a 30kg HEAT impact warhead instead of the usual angular-blast squadron-killer warhead, it dropped the ejection charge as the main rocket fired, sending it careening from the airship at high speed. Quickly, it established a link with its home airship, graphite vanes in its exhaust tilting slightly as the missile changed angle to find its target: the heat signature of engines. As it effortlessly passed the sound barrier, a message came from its mother ship.

"Good evening, our foe. We have sung so that the spirits are kind on your souls. Prepare to die."

The computer screen of the primary weapon controller was covered in green icons as the hundreds of missiles nestled inside the missile gondola gained connection to the targeting computers. He began moving the groups to the firing menu by moving his finger across the touchpad, and flicked up the cover of the fire button again. In the dim red light of the gondola, a smile flickered over his face.
"Let's see the bastards wet themselves."

___________________________

Outside on an exterior gantry, the 16 men stood in the cold air, thin jackets over their armour and improvised webbing as they watched the missile disappear from the airship into the distance. At their altitude, they were above most of the clouds: clear skies. Hopefully, the missile would light up their target.
One man sat with a small plastic flare launcher pointed to the distance as he watched the missile. Hopefully, he'd be able to do the crew one last favour before he died. For this was the most fear-filled task he could've expected, and he'd decided to have the evening shift for rest. Hopefully the airship they were fighting was going to be a pushover.

A cry called over the gantry.
"Prepare for enemy retaliation! Get inside the envelope!"

The two meter long sensor array that sat underneath its small balloon far behind the Indomitable activated once it had reached the end of its leash. Powerful hardware extened the ships radar and ladar range to the edges of the horizon and on. Just as its feed was coming online in the control gondola, the luanches from the Nimbus were picked up.
"Sir, luanch detected from enemy ship, bearing 280 degrees, heading 100degrees, range 65 miles."
"Deploy electronic countermeasures and direct thrust to the starbord side and fire AIM-120s" Towser ordered.

The four AIM-120C-5s with 18 kg WDU-41/B blast-fragmentation warheads each dropped out of the forward weapon bays and flew at the offending airships, 2 per each. As they waited for both their missiles and the offending missiles to cross the gap a transmission arrived over the radio:

"Good evening, our foe. We have sung so that the spirits are kind on your souls. Prepare to die."

"Son of a bitch," Towser mumbeled and yelled at the captain of the watch, "brace for impact."
"Brace, brace, brace," the captain repeated over the intercom. Across the ship sailors complied shutting hatches and securing themselves to whatever they could.

As the missile neared the countermeasures activated. The six vecored-thrust engines were all-ready pumping hot exhuast to the starbord side and moving the airship away from it and a frenzied display of flares shot out to that side as well. Against the cool night air the missile had no hope, it swung to the right of the ship and its copper round flew past the envelpe as it quickly disentigrated, finaly punching a book-sized hole in the right stabalizing fin.

The damage report reached Towser in short order, he was pleased the first wound was superficial but soon had his head in the game, "vector thrust forward and put engines at full military power, set a course to meet them head on." The engines cranked to life and soon a load steady drone was penetrating even the insulated control gondola, propelling the Indomitable to its max speed of 100 mph. DT was best known for its use of un-guided rockets and its technology in that field went to match. Several pods of prized fragmentation rockets were set up to obliterate the nose cone of whatever ship they might happen to pass. In the stern weapons bays RIM-24C Tartars were loaded into the rotary luanchers for the next attack and would likely be used throughout the engagement. They contained multiple rods that expanded on detonation and would dissect any part they came incontact with, a direct hit would prove more effective than one from shrapnel would.

The indomitable was geared for war and its running lights winked off, leaving it shadowy in the receding light.

DT: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=13765216

also, check your TG's

"We have retaliation: looks like we finally have a bit of a fight lads!"
A cheer rang out as the airship countermeasures came on-line: a virtual screen of electronic diversions to anything guided by RADAR or the likes. A volley of flares launched from the nose launchers of the main airship as the autocannons on the Aerofrigate began firing. Ahead of the airship, two explosions lit up the sky as the 35mm rounds flying from 4 autocannons tracked the missiles automatically, silencing as the remaining two came into range. A small explosion near the nose of the Aerofrigate marked the destruction of another missile to a Hailstorm shrapnel launcher. The final impacted on the underside of the main airship, blasting one of the 5mx5mx5m cell undersides and leaving a small trickle of gas to leak out. A small shock shook those on the much-higher side gantry as they saw the small burst below. A quiet clang saw the pipes cut off to that cell region, followed by a quiet tapping as an engineer came along to fit a patch over the blasted area, fire put out by the helium gas leaking around it.

The Captain smiled as he listened to the damage report: hardly any damage.
"Shall we see what they're really made of?"
The ship almost rocked as the firing of missiles began: much more of a chorus this time. 16 missiles of the previous type burst from a missile pod on the underside, not the main gondola, homing again on the target airship's heat source to try and immobilise it for boarding. This time, the idea was to overload the airship countermeasure systems, hopefully having more of an effect on a smaller airship.

"We'll be on them at any moment. Get ready for some fun!"

(OOC: here's an early sketch to supplement your imagination (http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m190/Radio_10/scan0001.jpg))

"New luanches detected, sir"
"Very well, activate countermeasures and send 'em our own, 10 degrees of rudder to starbord" Towser instructed.

Out of the back weapons bays 20 Tartars luanched into the air and took aim at the upper sides and gondolas of the airships. The expanding rings in their warheads would slice all they hit into ribbon. The front two bays shot TALON defense missiles at the incoming missiles and succeded in cripiling 7 of them far out. The auto-cannons reved up and score a few hits as well. A metal drum shot out of the slits in the envelope and sprialed away to the port side, flares and clouds of chaff ejecting from its casing on the way. Once it had escaped the sides of the ship it lit up the spectrum with a radar signiture twice that of the Indomitable. As the majority of the missiles detonated alongside the airship the remaining missiles struggled to stay on course between the shockwaves and the incresing jet wash from the turning ship. One's copper slug went off early and deteriorated quickly before it punched a small hole in one of the vectored-thrust engines. It started to smoke but still ran. Another slug ripped through the envelope on a glancing blow and severed the side of a gas cell. The bottom half emptied quickly, but the remaining gas could be salvaged.

A pair of engineers rushed to the broken cell, squeezing down catwalks on the sides of the enveope and rappeling down to the large cut. They patched it up nice and soon had compressed tanks refill it. Simultaneously a mechanic was running diagnostics on the smoking engine. The marines finally got out of their cabin and a pair went around checking all the exterior hatches.

Towser had only returned to the bridge at the start of the battle after having retrieved a military token from his room. Unlike other nations where a tradition of swords was carried by high ranking officers, in DT the symbol was revolvers. This one was a very nice Italian-made Mateba Model 6 Unica auto-revolver. Though considered only symbolic as they contained many moving parts and failed frequently when used often, he had his strapped to his hip, loaded with extra ammo on his belt. It reassured him and allowed him to remain in control, always reminding him of his status.

The enemy ships were coming into range now and Towser could see them cruising at him, "Prepare the rocket pods."

40 M261 High-Explosive Multipurpose Submunition rockets were prepped in their tubes in the front weapons bays. Their fuses were primed with the umbilical cords ready to set them. Each rocket contained 9 M72 submunitions with armor-piercing capabilities of 4 inches. Needless to say, DT knew how to make a simple unguided tube full of gunpowder and metal hurt.

Rupert Lockgard frowned as he flicked through the report. Foreign aggression against a foreign state in a foreign land somewhat close to Kriegorgrad, though his idea of 'somewhat close' was rather 'somewhat' in its definition. Concentration painted Rupert's face as the doors opened and Mr. Horton arrived, preceded by two Proletarian Guardsmen, who took up positions by each side of the door farm with rifles held to shoulder. Once Mr. Horton had taken a seat opposite Rupert's by the tall, Victorian window overlooking a cobble street brimming with well dressed middle class people (my apologies, Inner Party), they clicked their heels together and left.

Superfluous ceremony, Rupert thought.

The wood panelled old fashioned room was like most others in the governmental building. An 1800s construction from imperialist times before the Collective Oligarchy had come about through glorious revolution. Rupert, in his high-backed leather seat cast an eye down to the smartly dressed white men navigating the opulently grey street below, taking keen interest in two men dressed in three-piece suits discussing something by a lampost, before walking on a tad and entering an old, tall terraced building up a small flight of stairs to the tall, green door.

'Rupert, you're looking handsome as ever,' quipped Mr. Horton, in his regional accent. Regional accents among the higher-tiers of Kriegos culture were very unusual.

Rupert smiled. Even though Mr. R. Horton did get on his nerves from time-to-time, he was overall a funny, likeable character. Even with his un-malicious jibes about his appearance. Still, Rupert subconsciously adjusted his tie a tad, himself resplendent in a three-piece suit, though the jacket hung by a hook near the door, himself stripped down to his waistcoat and rather stylish though traditional shirt, shipped in from one of the other old world nations that had a freer market than Kriegorgrad.

'And you're as hideous as ever, Randy,' smirked Rupert back at Mr. Horton, who preferred his first name being mentioned as little as possible. Rupert's flawless received pronunciation bit into Mr. Horton, who'd yet to lose his doggedly stubborn accent of proletarian beginnings. Randy winced a tad. Rupert grinned further, a rather unsightly sight for one's sight to behold. Randy thought Rupert was a complete bastard at times, but he was overall a likeable, funny character. Even with his somewhat malicious jibes about his appearance.

Male-sabre-rattling aside, they settled down to business.

'So, have you observed the reports on Shorferica, Mr. Horton?'

Mr. Horton obviously had, as he'd just been flicking through the vanilla file during the course of their conversation.

'I have indeed observed the reports on Shorferica, Rupert.'

'And has one come to a decision, Mr. Horton?'

'One has come to a decision, Rupert.'

'Decision is, Mr. Horton?'

'Take the hardline, Rupert.'

'Let's take the hardline, Mr. Horton.'

'Splendid idea, Rupert.'


To The Leadership of Deserted Territories & The CA,

We are not longer able to turn a blind eye to the rude aggression of your forces against Shorferica. Kriegorgrad is a peace loving nation, but as Vegetius once said, “if you want peace prepare for war”. Kriegorgrad longs for peace. Yet fledging, arrogant, new-world nations ever eager to flex the muscles of their military budget find themselves diametrically opposed to Kriegorgrad's creed of peace, and sadly, wars can't be fought on good will alone, and peace cannot be established with strong words, without any substantial backing to make those words strong.

And it is because of this, that Kriegorgrad's hand has been forced into play. On fast-response we have more than enough aerial & naval power to slam your forces out of the sky and through force establish a demilitarized zone. Forces included the 22nd Hornblower Air Wing, the nicknamed the 'Kriegos Killing Korps' (KKK, for short). If you have any intelligence on the KKK, you'll know they are a highly adaptable, unpredictable, and savage group when persecuting their enemies.

We sincerely hope you reconsider your acts of naked warmongering, and hope that you care for the lives of your people and fighting men as much as you do your military budget and jingoistic showing off. Show mercy on your soldiers, for the KKK shall not.

Yours Sincerely,

Rupert Lockgard
Kriegos Diplomatic Corps
http://a697.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/10/s_20d828cf00a5624dcd6d234484198a68.jpg

OOC: The CA and I are attacking Shorfercia. Alfegos is on shofercia's side and attacked my airship preemptivly as it sailed to Shofercia.

(OOC: nice as it is to see a good response instead of the 3-liner posts I oft see, please note the title of the thread. There is a certain word in it, "CLOSED", that comes to attention. But, as DT said, the airship is being attacked as part of a pre-emptive strike as part of the defence of Shorferica, with the aim to capture it and minimise losses.
+ WTF happened to you signature?)

"Almost on top of them. And it appears that their countermeasures systems are rather up-to-date."
"Rather too much. Since tactic #091 in airship engagements appears not to be working, we will instead resort to #109 and #004. Observer?"
"Just working on the signals right now: it appears that the electronic systems they're using from our warhead feedback is a target relocation signal and electronic signal scrambler. The scrambler is the strongest one."

The Observer's job was to monitor sensor inputs for the two weapon's controllers, and assist in the decision of missile type, guidance and warhead. He sat with a pistol by a cold cup of coffee on his workstation, watching 4 screens displaying information from both native sensors, escort sensors, long-range sensors and the Combined Sensory Matrix Programme. An image currently showed a visual estimation of the enemy airship's shape and size, with coloured circles marking out radiation, heat and RADAR signatures. A large blue circle indicated where one unit obviously was. It turned to red as it was locked on by one of the controllers, followed by a loud ping as a missile was fired.
"I just reconfigured four of the Rainbow SAMs. I think they'll find it quite the tricky customer."

These missiles were two-stage long-range warheads. Instead of being guided by infrared signatures, as the enemy might first suppose, these were homing in on both those and the sources of electrical signals; countermeasures units. Often being located on gondolas of some sort, these would have a chance of impacting.
Just as a confusing method, they ejected their primary stages still burning, leaving four extra hot projectiles and a shower of RADAR chaff to continue towards the airship. A nightmare for anyone trying to figure out what was attacking and what was not. 4 Angular-blast 30kg squadron-killer warheads continued onwards, rainbows painted on the nosecones along with slogans of fierce Fegosian pride: "From the Palm State with love"; "Like my aiming? Call +412 00 YOU'RE SCREWED!".

As the commander heard an alarm, he saw out the forward window specks of flame moving towards them from the distance.
"Looks like they're retaliating this time sir, though I don't know how the blazes they got their aiming like this." The defence systems controller flicked a few swtichs, the airship's own defence autocannon spewing out rounds beneath them, leaving a quiet rumble beneath the black carpet. Ahead, explosions lit up the sky as missiles began exploding.
"Don't they realise that point defence works better when they give us loads of targets? Escort, what is your status?"
A crackle came over the radio, followed by a hoarse voice.
"Look's like we're alright for now... Shit! All personnel, brace for impact!"
There came a series of explosions form the underside as the Hailstorm units started firing again, followed by a loud crash over the intercom. Alarms started sounding as swearing came from the intercom.
"Bastards just got us on the windscreen: if it weren't for the glass, we'd be screwed right now!"
The man was referring to the 50mm Oxynitride glass that made up the forward viewing dome of the airship control gondola. Able at 8mm to withstand the impact of a .50cal BMG round from one of the most powerful sniper weapons in the world, at 40mm it was proof to many a kinetic impactor.

Through binoculars the Captain had hastily acquired, he looked down to see the escort airship's gondola, illuminated by a dim red glow. A massive series of cracks extended across the glass, with paint ripped off the sides of the gondola. On the underside at the nose, fabric had been ripped off to reveal punctured cells beneath by the wire projectile. A cloud of fog had slowly dissipated from the cracks as pressure was equalised, the gondolas being partially compressed to provide optimal crew performance.
"We've also lost engine power over here, AAS Tesla: the engineers are checking it out, but I think we might've had an impact to one of the external prop shafts. The pilot reckons that we'll keep going at a speed with you for a wee bit, before noticeably slowing. Hopefully, we'll be able to get the engines restarted soon."
"Right you are."

An engineer's voice came over the network.
"We've noticed some hits as well: we've lost gantry 9R and about 50 cells on the side from one impact. We've patched it up, and only have about 60% gas loss from those cells. But that hit was quite deep: it tangled on one of the support beams, which we've braced, which stopped it getting right down. But the boys are gonna have fun re-stitching the envelope.
While I'm at it, we get a hit to the engine gondola as well. Silly bastards don't realise most of it's armoured, so looks like we've just got repainting to do: the ceramic isn't even cracked."
"Right you are. Make sure we don't over-use the reserve: we might be needing to change height rapidly, and I don't want us losing all our cells."

"Sir, heavy damage delt to the smaller frigate. Moving into rocket range."
"Excelent, finish the smaller one off and keep that cruiser occcupied with some more Tartars," Towser said.
"Tartars are a couple minutes away from luanch sir."
"Very well, some AIM-120s while they wait then. Aim for their control surfaces. Keep them at supersonic. Mabey they'll get passes those autocannons a bit better.
Towser paced the deck as 8 AIM-120s dropped out of the weapon bays and zoomed at the larger ship. As they moved into view he could see the small course corrections they made as the rocket pods were aimed at the smaller firgate.

"Sir! 4 luanches detected, but I can't make out how many projectiles are in the air, there is some radar clutter. Heat says 8, probably some type of submunition. Releasing TALONs." The TALONs headed for the missile exhuast, the four detached boosters were badly damaged by the shards but simply fell out of sight as they would have anyways. Only one of the actual warheads was hit by the TALON. The other three continued on.
"Where are we at?" Towser asked.
"Three are still in the air, deploying electronic countermeasures." A capsule was ejected from the sides and soon opened into a wide net, giving off a signature again twice that of the airship. The three missiles went for it, correcting their course and vering off towards the net, far to starbord and below the ship. "All three took the bait!" the controller reported in jubilation.

The mechanic working on the damaged engine had removed part of the armored cowling to get inside the thing and asses the damage. Hanging head first out of the envelope he called up to his buddy for parts and was setting to his work when he saw the missiles streak away. He smiled and was about to get to work when he saw them cahnge course again and head right for him. "Pull me up!" he shouted, "Pull me up you damn bastard, NOW!" he shrieked.

Back in the control gondola the controller saw it too, "Sir, missiles didn't stick to the bait for long, they're heading up pretty steep at our midrift. 10 seconds."
"Drop ballast now, vector thrust down, all of it, pump the control bags full, now!" he commanded.
The control gondola became a flurry of activity. The sound of the captain of the watch resonated throughout the ship, "Brace, brace, brace." The steam bags swelled to the breaking point and emergency valves on the top opened up as hotter steam arrived from the boilers below. A shrill whine emmited from them as lines of hot steam could be seen shooting from the envelope in the last of the light.

The ship jumped up immediatly, cuasing the missiles to correct themselves again. The auto-cannons lit up the sky, strking one down through the rain of sand and water ballast falling from the belly of the Indomitable. The other two made contact. Just as the mechanic got out of the way, the pair of engines he had been working on took a direct hit, and a piece of shrapnel severed his leg at the hip, invariable saving the cell directly above him. The engine who's cowling he had removed was broken beyond repair, the other was badly damaged and went through emergency shut-off and fire control prodecdures, filling the whole compartment with fire-resistant foam. The second missile tore a large hole in the envelope and shredded a group of cells pretty badly. Some were lost while engineers rushed to salvage the rest. The Indomitables rise was hindered by this lose and it soon steadied with only minor adjustments having to be made for the ballast after the loss of all that gas.

"MY LEG!" the mechanic shouted, clutching at his stump, "Dammit you bastard they got my leg! Didn't you hear me shouting at you?! I frickin' told you to pull me up! I frickin' shouted it at you! What, did you think I was fucking kidding or something?! Why don't you say something you.. bastar-" he ceased yelling at his buddy as a medic pumped him full of anesthetic.
"He'll be okay," the medic said, "Get this guy a body bag," he indicated the friend. He had absorbed no less than half a dozen 3 inch pieces of metal in his back while running behind the mechanic.

Towser had the damage report in his hands shortly after, "Dammit. Give 'em the rockets."
The controller punched in some firing equations into the computer and it sent an impulse out in turn. The signal traveled through the floor, up the wall, into the evelope, snaked around the wires nestled inbetween the cells and up into the fire-control station in the weapons bays where circuits gladly opened and sent more signals down the umbilical cords in the four rocket luanchers and down the umbilical cords to light the fuses on the rockets.

All 40 M261s fired in quick succession and spread out to cover an area wider than the frigates nose. They flew at it head on, the 360 seperate submunitions all ready to luanch their own micro-ordonace to decimate the front of the frigate. Even as they luanched a rack of Tartars finished loaded and all five were sent out after the AIM-120s at the larger ship.

"Here we go: that's a bit more like it."

The enemy airship was in sight now: on its underside, a small fire burnt from where the missiles had finally hit. The auto cannon roared again, almost half-heartedly. Another missile impacted on the underside, blowing a group of cells apart to lose a bit more gas. For now, the Captain had just decided to take the hits: something wasn't right. It seemed as if they were saving something for close range.

"What's our status on pass time?"
"100 seconds and closing."

The Captain imagined the obvious panic aboard the target airship as they saw what looked like silhouettes in the flames that sprung from the underside, now dying down from the helium leaks. Then he saw something he hadn't been expecting.
"Hit the ballast! Get the hell outta here!"
The sensors had just been wiped out as they detected a swarm of projectiles inbound towards the two airships. Towards the frigate.
"Why aren't they moving god-dammit?"
He swore, but could do nothing. What appeared to be a sea of fire opened up as the Aerofrigate's auto cannons let rip, rounds flickering across the sky as the computer tried to calculate missile trajectories, signals flickering right across to the main fleet a few 1000km away by now, for the borrowing of computer processing space. The 4 autocannons did not fully succeed in their goal.

The front of the airship was made from the same materials as the rest of the airship, save for a point right at the tip where the internal struts all met. This silvery tip was suddenly surrounded by fire as explosions spread across the side from the centre, leaving a firey mess. Across the radio intercom, screams came as the men inside evacuated: he could see them scrambling across external gantries as the missiles impacted on the front of the gondola dome, blasting the already cracked glass to dust and leaving another to detonate inside the gondola. Without any crew to stabilise it and emergency computer networks severed, the airship began to tilt forwards. Whilst no projectiles had fortunately passed through to the fuel core, the underside was alight from the burning gondola.

"Escort, do you read me?"
Static.
"Do you read me?"
"We just managed to get out in time: the captain's been wounded, but luckily the gondola contained most of the blast. We've got him being treated."
"Do we have an ETA on systems readiness?"
"About 10 minutes. Until then, we're drifting. The engineers have cut the forward ballast, but for now I don't know whether we'll stay afloat for long. They took out maybe 30% of our lift. And that's yet to leak out fully yet."
"Get onto the weapons systems as soon as possible, and try to shed all that weight you're carrying. I've sent you a distress signal, so you'll get company soon. Hopefully."

The Captain looked ahead: the airship was only tens of metres away.
"Guys, they don't ever learn! It's time to show them we mean business!"
As a missile smashed into the tail fin, leaving the controls jammed shut, the pilot switched over to the more crude gas controls: if he couldn't angle it that way, he could do this till they were going AAS Milkavich over the Grand Fegos*. A second impact on the underside led the engineers to start moving, but the Captain gave a stern order.
"Time to give them a present! On my count..."

__________________________________

On the side gantries, the 16 men had come out just in time to see the escort airship fall away in a series of explosions. Hearing the Captain's voice over the radio, they turned around to see the enemy airship coming into range.
"It can't be simpler guys: just jump. We've got you on a close enough course. Just remember to conserve ammo, and to think outside the box. Starting softening... now!"

A roar started as the airship autocannon let rip along the lower side of the airship: the enemy was just higher than them, now all at nearly 7000m. Dangerously close to cell overpressure altitude. They men had switched ammunition to airship-hunting ammunition: flick-blade slugs that deployed stabilising fins each the length of the round from either side, a small loop of wire trailed acting to rip a large hole as it passed through the airship till it hit something. Against harder targets, the impact fuse on it meant that the small inner charge could blow out a small hole, allowing the blades to shoot out laterally to damage anything either side of the impact site.

As the firing finished after 20 seconds, the airship dropped a lump of lead ballast. Shooting up, the Lieutenant in charge of the group threw two people off the side, following himself along with the others. They fell a few metres to hit the fabric below, ripples forming as they rolled downwards. Knives were quickly produced, to leave deep gouges as they slowed themselves down to an eventual halt. Each wore a parachute backpack holding survival gear and the essential parachutes: if they fell or had no other option, they could fall and survive the impact with the sea, hopefully to be rescued as soon as possible. Hopefully.
The Lieutenant slowed until he reached one of the missile pods on the side. She held a finger to her lips as she heard talking inside the airship, motioning for the 6 men who had landed with her on the side to stay low. One took out a small improvised explosive, a fail-launch missile warhead cut out from the casing and broken down into small wads, for supposed disposal. A loop of wires led to an AAA battery and circuit board, the former nicked from the night shift pilot's MP3 player. Now to serve a better use.
Three men moved across the missile pod to the opening end, whilst the other four moved to the rear end, where the talking was heard. They peered around the corner, before flicking off safety catches. Small red-dot sights supplemented the laser pointers on their weapon barrels as they looked to see what was around the corner.

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*The Battle of the Burning Skies occurred in the 1950s, over the Mountains the Moon that divided the communist front lines from the democrat front lines. It was a last stand between the democrat airships (the minority), and the communist airships. As most airships of the Communist side could not afford enough helium, so resorted instead to cheap hydrogen, the results of the massive aerial engagement was spectacular. The AAS Milkavich was the communist flagship that was hit by the blast wave from the "Desperate Solution", a final attempt to stop the communists from breaking through into the final democrat stronghold by the ground-burst detonation of a nuclear device. Right on top of a major uranium ore deposit. The people of Alfegos are still feeling it to this day.
The airship crew of the Milkavich, even though hideously burnt by the heat wave, still attempted to keep her in flight, continuing the fight as fires raged across the 950m-long craft. After 10 minutes, the airship eventually crashed in the Grand Fegos, or Great Rainforest, to the loss of all hands on board. The crew are remembered as heroes who kept on despite all the odds (the Alfegans always revere the heroes of their foes as much as their own), and managed to divert the airship's path from hitting the city of Milkavich itself (ironic to say the least).

The control gondola exploded into cheers as the flaming hulk of the frigate nosed down towards the sea. Admiral Towser already had his sights on the cruiser though, "Tartars, now. And get the rocket pods reloaded for the next pass!" he shouted over the jubilation.
"Tartars will be ready to luanch by the time we are far enough away, sir."
"Excellent, and prepare something on the side mounts for when we are close. Something, anti-personell."
"Yes, sir."
A hum filtered into the gondola then as the Alfegos ship opened up with auto-cannons, "Sir, they're shooting at us."
"Shoot back."

As the rounds bit into the lower side of the Indomitable, leaving pockmarked fabric on the outside with cells puncturing left and right. Near where the first hit was some technitians were wounded by the barrage. Others rushed to patch new holes. The four autocannons on the Indomitable soon opened fire themselves, the two sets ripping lines across the top and bottom of the enemy ship.

Then the Tesla shot up above them without warning. "Shit, where did they go!" demanded Towser, craning his neck on the windshield to see it. "Damn, full rudder, starbord. Vector some thrust and get into Tartar range."

The ship careened to the side as the heading change went into effect. On the top of the ship the foward observer finally poked his head up after the frighteneing ordeal of having a several-thousand-foot-long airship pop up out of nowhere next to him. As the ships moved apart he stared at the enemy, not even flinching as the first Tesla flew out of its luancher. Then three more, the two luanchers at the aft of the ship also luanched their five missiles, but on his end, instead of firing the last missile made a nasty gear-grinding sound that finally startled him out of his coma. He looked down to see several gouges receeding over the curve of the envelope, he radioded it in. "Control, Observation. There are some strange cuts in the envelope. They're all straight down, I can't see where they end."
"Observation, Engineering. We'll check it out."

No one from the control gondola ever answered, nor were any of them aware of the situation. The ships intercom officer had removed his headphones to call the Captain of the watch over. He had noticed that Rick was missing from his post at the survaillence console. Just as the Captain was about to deal with it, the intercom officer replaced his headphones and relayed a message to the Captain.
"Sir, Weapons Systems is reporting a malfunction on the lunacher in bay 3. Emergency disarming procedures went into effect but the Tartar is stuck in the luancher. They're attempting to fix it now."

In the weapon pod two sailors grunted and sweat in the intense heat. Firing all those rockets and missiles was making the place pretty smokey and the air cleaner wasn't working fast enough. They had opened one of the armored flaps in the back to let the air vent, against regulations.
"Negative, Control. This luancher won't be ready for at least 20 minutes," one shouted, pulling his uniform off as he unkeyed the mike. As another report from an engineer came over the intercom, talking about checking the slits in the evelope, he shut the box off. "Damn it's too hot in here for this."

A lowly technitian climbed the ladders and crossed the catwalks on his way to check out the slits. When he got there, suspended above the gas cells he checked it out. He counted 16 straight lines all the way down to the weapon bay cut with straight blades. He had a suspicion and started fervently down to the nearest intercom. He swung quickly through the girders on his way down, grabbing a ladder and sliding down it. As he came to the landing he smack right into a marine walking the length of the axial catwalk and was knock out cold.

When he came to a moment later the marine was standing over him, keying th intercom next to the ladder, "We need a medic up here on the axial catwalk, this kid just took a tumble."
After a moment a response came over, "Sorry, we're busy. Something chewed up the patching crew pretty badly. Bring him to the medical bay."
The kid started to stirr, "Hold on there budy, don't move." he reached for his walkie-talkie and radioed to the other marines, "Hey, I need a few guys up here to help me carry this kid down to the medics."
"Alright Frank, Erastus and I'll be right up." Down in the marines compartment, two guys got up and retrieved their M26 assualt rifles on their way out the door.
"It's alright kid," Frank said as the young technition came to.
As his head cleared he remembered what he had seen and, still in a daze, struggled to communicate the dire situation, "the gondola, they ripped it straight down, they might be onbord." He stopped to rest, blood flowing to his head as his muscles worked to move his jaw to speak.
Frank didn't fully understand. He keyed the intercom again, "Control, this kid thinks somethings going on, I'm not sure what. I can't make it out, he's a little scrambled upstairs."
"Take him to first aid first, they'll sort him out."
"Yeah...," Frank said.

The two marines came up and promptly handed the kid down the ladder on his way to the medical bay. "You coming Frank?" Erastus asked.
"One second, I'm gonna go check out what he found. Meet me up here when you're done okay?"

(Here's a new correctly proportioned version (http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m190/Radio_10/scan0002.jpg).)

The Aerocruiser dipped slightly as it was raked with auto cannon rounds along its side, the internal compliment of engineers rushing from shelter once the fire stopped, carrying emergency patches for the cells. For now, they'd keep far away to stop the enemy airship from hitting them with the unguided rockets, and not attack with any weapon save for the auto cannon: they didn't want friendly fire. That would be disastrous.

As they moved away, the final ballast was dropped as cell pressures were re-adjusted. With helium gas rapidly compressed as much as possible to hold in the reserve tanks, the cells only expanded slightly as the airship reached 7600m.
"All cells on pure helium now*, and ballast dropped. Now what shall we do?"
"Full speed ahead at a bearing of 210 degrees. If we're lucky, we could lure them into range of the main Aeroflotilla themselves."

The airship props roared to full speed, the governors built into them spinning at full speed as they controlled the engine power, making sure it didn't go into overdrive. Methane-Hydrogen AerGas mix from the airship core coursed through the cylinders as the airship moved away from the enemy airship, now moving in on a turn. The missiles closing in on the tail swerved away from the airship, one cutting another hole in the fabric at the rear, whilst remaining engineers patched over any viable cells: now they had got to the stage where they would be focusing not only on the cells but starting to look at the structure.
________________________________________________

The 7 impromptu soldiers on the missile-pod side pulled back as they saw an engineer arrive, disappearing into the shadows. They listened for a while, not understanding the foreign conversation that the enemy was having. From the tone though, it was apparent that they weren't pleased. It looked like the sabotage had worked. Just as the lieutenant was about to make her move, she heard a frantic babble from one man, followed by running away. Had he seen her? She peered around the corner to spot a pair of armed soldiers looking over his collapsed body: the sounds inside had been like he had run into somebody.

She decided to preserve their stealth aspect and wait until they had finished carting away the now awake man, leaving only one man left to come walk out. She held up a hand, and moved it forward: time to make their move. As the man came out into the open she leapt from her perch on the missile pod, landing heavily on the man's back. Wrapping her legs around his neck, she took out her knife and stabbed him through the back of the neck: stabbing position number 5. With a narrow blade on her combat knife, her aim intended to cut through the spinal cord, killing the man nearly instantly whilst minimising bleeding. However, this time she had got it wrong: blood sprayed from the wound in pulses, covering the surrounding area and her in blood. She stabbed him twice more, until the body stopped moving and the blood flow subsided.

With the rest of the group now with her, she quickly searched the man, taking his radio, gun and spare ammunition. She left his personal possessions on him as the men rolled him off the airship, to fly towards the sea surface many metres below.
Looking an absolute state, the lieutenant wiped some of the blood from her face, where it was now congealing, and shivered. Both with the cold from the altitude and with fear. From now on, this wasn't a training exercise: it was real. She turned back to see the now extinguished nose of the aero-frigate rising upwards, smoke trailing across the lights: it was moving again. Whilst two kilometres below the opposition and rather angered at its attack, it was slowly coming back to order. Hopefully they would not shoot: she didn't want to be inside the airship if the Aerofrigate disobeyed orders and launched a full missile attack on this enemy airship. Hopefully the enemy did not realise how lucky they were: any background checks on airship battles would've shown that an aerocruiser would take out an airship of this enemy's size hours ago. A volley of a few hundred tonnes of munitions would've been the knell for the airship crew.

The first team of 7 popped inside to the warmth, whilst the other 9 crawled across the airship envelope, making cuts in it as they dug in with knives and crampons on their feet. Anyone looking would've seen the airship side as a total mess, not realised that most punctures weren't deep enough to touch the gas cells. They were aiming to get to the control gondola on the underside, from where they could cause complete chaos. The leader of the team was the guy with the machine gun: a long belt of 7.62mm ammunition trailed from the gun he had slung over his back into a large ammo tin strapped to his belt. Whilst it made him look hard, it also made him very heavy: he was hanging much lower than the rest, and wasn't too happy as they passed the final missile pod on the airship side.

_____________________________________

(NB on picture: you sure you got the scales right: those are VERY big missile pods, considering the size of your gondola: I wouldn't have though such a structure could support the mass you're talking about. That aside, I'll see about drawing you a pretty picture on Paint.NET.)

(OOC: most of those pods are seperate liftng bags. Only the slit at the bottom is actual compartment with ammunition and luanchers.

Also, I won't e able to post for a day or two while I wipe a virus off my computer.)

"Captain, please bring the ship to bear on the enemy. And inform the crew that from now on they should take cover when alerted to enemy fire," he said without emotion after being told of the gross amount of casualties taken already. Many were minor but still the men were sitting on their asses getting bandaged up all over the place instead of working.

The ship groaned and shuddered as Towser demanded the agile nose be brought around swiftly. All the power of the vectored thrust engines was put into the turn whipping it about almost unnaturally.

"A full compliment of Tartars at their engines when they are ready," Towser ordered. "It's just about time to get out of here," he crumpled up a message that had come over the code machine in the last minute. War had been declared on DT and all units were ordered home to defend against the ongoing invasion, the Indomitable included.


The two marines dropped the dazed technician off at the sick bay and radioed up to Frank, "We're coming up, you done yet?" They started up the ladder even before he responded. After several rungs Erastus stopped his partner and grabbed his own radio.
"Frank?" he asked. After a minute the two stepped off the ladder onto a catwalk and tried again. "Frank."
Erastus eyed the alarm handle next to him, but radioed in to the marine station first, using the ships intercom. "This is Sergeant Danzer, initiating a ship-wide sweep."

Without a word of response over the intercom or their radios the compliment of marines left their compartment and started a cautious search of the ship moving from the axial catwalk to the far corners of the envelope and outside, guns readied.

One soldier stopped at the control gondola. "Sir," he addressed the Admiral. "A ship-wide sweep has been initiated. I'm going to have to request that you keep this hatch secure until the safe word is transmitted."
"Very well soldier," Towser said. "You, close that hatch." The hatch swung shut and was bolted shut. "Who's in charge of the security feed here, what have they seen?"
Nobody answered him. He moved around to the appropriate console, finding it empty. Controlling his initial rage he spun on superfluous crew member and slammed him in front of the console. "Go back through all the external footage on the starboard side. Find what that tech was looking at and what those marines saw that spooked them. That knob there," he added as the man gave the console a puzzled look.

The Tartars loaded up at that point and 20 were loosed. Ten from the forward pods, 10 more close behind them from the aft pods. All aimed at the exposed props hanging underneath the aerofrigate above them.

"More inbound missiles. Looks like it's time for retaliation."

The Captain turned to the rear window: the Aerofrigate floated in the distance stranded, awaiting temporary restoration of systems through any available secondary controls. Behind them, it seemed the Deserted Territory ship was following them. Coming from behind, a plethora of missiles came inbound, seemingly following heat signatures from their engines.

"Looks like they're trying to go for the engines again. Prepare secondary propulsion should we be immobilised, and weapons controllers..."

He nodded as one hesitantly motioned towards the heavy missiles on the selection display. The selected missile changed to green as the first of the explosions started at the rear, the autocannon continuing its relentless firing. The airship barely shook as one ripped into the damaged ailerons, another scratching the added armour of the engine gondola. A third warhead managed to brush a prop itself, tangling round it and bringing it to an abrupt halt. Others fell away, dumbfounded by the countermeasures or taken out in small sharp cracks from the hailstorm units. The airship began to slow gradually as alarms began to sound over the pilot's station.

"We've lost power to engine 2 - looks like they're starting to aim a bit better."
"Deploy the flaps at an angle of... say 10 degrees. We've got a mediocre tailwind, so I think we can compensate enough."
He turned to the weapons controller stations.
"Time for them to whimper I reckon. The boarding crew know what to do."
There was a clatter as a crewman tripped, scattering large metal tins across the floor behind the bridge.
"Someone help him reload the autocannon please, before we run out of ammunition."

A long series of tiles blew from the side as the airship fired off again. This time, it was no preliminary testing shots, or disabling shots. They were going for causing as much mayhem as possible.
24 short-range Stingray PRH missiles shot out from the sides, speeding up once the 6 heavier Deathwatch missiles caught up. The six missiles were designed for the sole purpose of causing as much internal damage as possible. Each held a timer that had been preset once the enemy airship diameter had been approximated from visual contact, which would activate once the sensor detected they had hit the envelope. Inside, the missiles would detonate as near the centre as possible, showering the inside with 640 fragmention bomblets that would proceed to go off. Guaranteed to at least cause some semblance of panic. The escort missiles were only there to provide a powerful confusing factor to any countermeasures, being guided by radar instead of visual guidance that the Deathwatch missiles relied on. Each of these short-range missiles, not even approaching the cruise-missile size of the Deathwatch missiles, was armed with a small HEAT warhead, with preference for their targets being those with the sharpest signatures: any external structures.

________________________________________

The team inside the airship itself found refuge by concealing themselves off the gantry, hanging from any exposed beams they could out of sight; they had heard alarmed calls across the radio network, the tone of voice suggesting they had been found. All that was needed now was for them to wait for whoever would be sent.
The Lieutenant lay atop a warm pipe above the walkway, rifle aimed downwards in preparation. Across, on another set of beams, other members of the team nodded nervously. They could hear footsteps all around as men began to spread out, searching for them. Hopefully, the nine hanging outside the airship would have the luck of not being seen by anyone outside. She flicked up the battle sights as she heard movement coming towards them, top rustling from the congealed blood across it.


Outside, the 9 men looked to see the gondola only 40 metres away from them, and 8 metres below. Soon, they'd be able to unleash hell. At that moment though, two things went wrong. The machinegunner lost his footing, and fell downwards until a thrust knife caught against something hard. By now though, he was hanging precariously low, in sight of anyone who cared to look out of the gondola. Acting out of panic, he shoved his cramponed feet under some sort of beam so that he could hang there safely, before moving the machinegun up to his waist. Hanging upside down, his shaking hands pulled the trigger as he let rip upon the underside gondola, not caring where the high-powered rounds impacted on the side as casings fell past his head towards the sea below.

The second thing that went wrong was that the leader of the group noticed a large cloud of fire moving across the sky. The Tesla had opened fired, just as he had not expected. He pointed to a gantry on the outside, and motioned madly.

"More inbound missiles. Looks like it's time for retaliation."

The Captain turned to the rear window: the Aerofrigate floated in the distance stranded, awaiting temporary restoration of systems through any available secondary controls. Behind them, it seemed the Deserted Territory ship was following them. Coming from behind, a plethora of missiles came inbound, seemingly following heat signatures from their engines.

"Looks like they're trying to go for the engines again. Prepare secondary propulsion should we be immobilised, and weapons controllers..."

He nodded as one hesitantly motioned towards the heavy missiles on the selection display. The selected missile changed to green as the first of the explosions started at the rear, the autocannon continuing its relentless firing. The airship barely shook as one ripped into the damaged ailerons, another scratching the added armour of the engine gondola. A third warhead managed to brush a prop itself, tangling round it and bringing it to an abrupt halt. Others fell away, dumbfounded by the countermeasures or taken out in small sharp cracks from the hailstorm units. The airship began to slow gradually as alarms began to sound over the pilot's station.

"We've lost power to engine 2 - looks like they're starting to aim a bit better."
"Deploy the flaps at an angle of... say 10 degrees. We've got a mediocre tailwind, so I think we can compensate enough."
He turned to the weapons controller stations.
"Time for them to whimper I reckon. The boarding crew know what to do."
There was a clatter as a crewman tripped, scattering large metal tins across the floor behind the bridge.
"Someone help him reload the autocannon please, before we run out of ammunition."

A long series of tiles blew from the side as the airship fired off again. This time, it was no preliminary testing shots, or disabling shots. They were going for causing as much mayhem as possible.
24 short-range Stingray PRH missiles shot out from the sides, speeding up once the 6 heavier Deathwatch missiles caught up. The six missiles were designed for the sole purpose of causing as much internal damage as possible. Each held a timer that had been preset once the enemy airship diameter had been approximated from visual contact, which would activate once the sensor detected they had hit the envelope. Inside, the missiles would detonate as near the centre as possible, showering the inside with 640 fragmention bomblets that would proceed to go off. Guaranteed to at least cause some semblance of panic. The escort missiles were only there to provide a powerful confusing factor to any countermeasures, being guided by radar instead of visual guidance that the Deathwatch missiles relied on. Each of these short-range missiles, not even approaching the cruise-missile size of the Deathwatch missiles, was armed with a small HEAT warhead, with preference for their targets being those with the sharpest signatures: any external structures.

________________________________________

The team inside the airship itself found refuge by concealing themselves off the gantry, hanging from any exposed beams they could out of sight; they had heard alarmed calls across the radio network, the tone of voice suggesting they had been found. All that was needed now was for them to wait for whoever would be sent.
The Lieutenant lay atop a warm pipe above the walkway, rifle aimed downwards in preparation. Across, on another set of beams, other members of the team nodded nervously. They could hear footsteps all around as men began to spread out, searching for them. Hopefully, the nine hanging outside the airship would have the luck of not being seen by anyone outside. She flicked up the battle sights as she heard movement coming towards them, top rustling from the congealed blood across it.


Outside, the 9 men looked to see the gondola only 40 metres away from them, and 8 metres below. Soon, they'd be able to unleash hell. At that moment though, two things went wrong. The machinegunner lost his footing, and fell downwards until a thrust knife caught against something hard. By now though, he was hanging precariously low, in sight of anyone who cared to look out of the gondola. Acting out of panic, he shoved his cramponed feet under some sort of beam so that he could hang there safely, before moving the machinegun up to his waist. Hanging upside down, his shaking hands pulled the trigger as he let rip upon the underside gondola, not caring where the high-powered rounds impacted on the side as casings fell past his head towards the sea below.

The second thing that went wrong was that the leader of the group noticed a large cloud of fire moving across the sky. The Tesla had opened fired, just as he had not expected. He pointed to a gantry on the outside, and motioned madly.

"More inbound missiles. Looks like it's time for retaliation."

The Captain turned to the rear window: the Aerofrigate floated in the distance stranded, awaiting temporary restoration of systems through any available secondary controls. Behind them, it seemed the Deserted Territory ship was following them. Coming from behind, a plethora of missiles came inbound, seemingly following heat signatures from their engines.

"Looks like they're trying to go for the engines again. Prepare secondary propulsion should we be immobilised, and weapons controllers..."

He nodded as one hesitantly motioned towards the heavy missiles on the selection display. The selected missile changed to green as the first of the explosions started at the rear, the autocannon continuing its relentless firing. The airship barely shook as one ripped into the damaged ailerons, another scratching the added armour of the engine gondola. A third warhead managed to brush a prop itself, tangling round it and bringing it to an abrupt halt. Others fell away, dumbfounded by the countermeasures or taken out in small sharp cracks from the hailstorm units. The airship began to slow gradually as alarms began to sound over the pilot's station.

"We've lost power to engine 2 - looks like they're starting to aim a bit better."
"Deploy the flaps at an angle of... say 10 degrees. We've got a mediocre tailwind, so I think we can compensate enough."
He turned to the weapons controller stations.
"Time for them to whimper I reckon. The boarding crew know what to do."
There was a clatter as a crewman tripped, scattering large metal tins across the floor behind the bridge.
"Someone help him reload the autocannon please, before we run out of ammunition."

A long series of tiles blew from the side as the airship fired off again. This time, it was no preliminary testing shots, or disabling shots. They were going for causing as much mayhem as possible.
24 short-range Stingray PRH missiles shot out from the sides, speeding up once the 6 heavier Deathwatch missiles caught up. The six missiles were designed for the sole purpose of causing as much internal damage as possible. Each held a timer that had been preset once the enemy airship diameter had been approximated from visual contact, which would activate once the sensor detected they had hit the envelope. Inside, the missiles would detonate as near the centre as possible, showering the inside with 640 fragmention bomblets that would proceed to go off. Guaranteed to at least cause some semblance of panic. The escort missiles were only there to provide a powerful confusing factor to any countermeasures, being guided by radar instead of visual guidance that the Deathwatch missiles relied on. Each of these short-range missiles, not even approaching the cruise-missile size of the Deathwatch missiles, was armed with a small HEAT warhead, with preference for their targets being those with the sharpest signatures: any external structures.

________________________________________

The team inside the airship itself found refuge by concealing themselves off the gantry, hanging from any exposed beams they could out of sight; they had heard alarmed calls across the radio network, the tone of voice suggesting they had been found. All that was needed now was for them to wait for whoever would be sent.
The Lieutenant lay atop a warm pipe above the walkway, rifle aimed downwards in preparation. Across, on another set of beams, other members of the team nodded nervously. They could hear footsteps all around as men began to spread out, searching for them. Hopefully, the nine hanging outside the airship would have the luck of not being seen by anyone outside. She flicked up the battle sights as she heard movement coming towards them, top rustling from the congealed blood across it.


Outside, the 9 men looked to see the gondola only 40 metres away from them, and 8 metres below. Soon, they'd be able to unleash hell. At that moment though, two things went wrong. The machinegunner lost his footing, and fell downwards until a thrust knife caught against something hard. By now though, he was hanging precariously low, in sight of anyone who cared to look out of the gondola. Acting out of panic, he shoved his cramponed feet under some sort of beam so that he could hang there safely, before moving the machinegun up to his waist. Hanging upside down, his shaking hands pulled the trigger as he let rip upon the underside gondola, not caring where the high-powered rounds impacted on the side as casings fell past his head towards the sea below.

The second thing that went wrong was that the leader of the group noticed a large cloud of fire moving across the sky. The Tesla had opened fired, just as he had not expected. He pointed to a gantry on the outside, and motioned madly.

(OOC: whoa! @ triple post.)

As the small missiles flew into the Indomitable, rattling around beams, wires and gas cells engineers cautiously inspected from behind corners of metal bulkheads and compartments. One man found a missile clang to the catwalk right next to him. He nudged it with his foot, it looked dead but he had no doubt it should be rid of. He motioned to his buddies and only a few seconds after it had punctured the envelope he was about to kick it over the side of the stern platform. Just as he went to give it the final shove it detonated along with all its buddies, shredding him and part of each fin into oblivion.

Gas was leaking from the holes all over the cells. Silently hissing, filling the envelope. Many of the men had taken shelter and few casualties were taken as opposed to the other assaults. Men ran about helter-skelter, some starting the laborious work of sealing the many cells, others going straight to the outer envelope and patching up the top to hold in all the rising gas: trying to stem the flow of helium and steam.

Even as they set to work, the Stingrays were hitting. With the weapon pods being held mostly in the soft curve of the envelope only a handful of the missiles curved to hit them. The armor denting and bending around openings, the structure holding together tenaciously. Being the only real protruding compartment, the heavy control gondola took hit after hit even after the cloud was thinned by chaff, radar decoys, auto-cannon fire and every other countermeasure system on board.

A moment ago Towser's attention was ripped away from his duties as machine gun bullets bounced off the armored wall and bullet-proof Plexiglas. He moved over the peer at the man hanging off his ship before the missiles hit. Even through the chaos, explosions rocking the gondola violently, he conversed with the man at the surveillance console.
"Sir!" he shouted over the din. "Look!" he pointed.
Towser moved in to see the recorded footage of a whole entourage leaping aboard the ship, slaying a guard, even scurrying about near the control gondola.

He switched on the ship-wide intercom and blared out a warning of the intruders. Then he issued a quick command and soon the armory in the marines' quarters was thrown open as sailors loaded extra weapons and every available hand was given a spare rifle or firearm to keep watch on the catwalks above. Emergency lighting came on, alternators on the engines turning double to fully illuminate the shadowy interior. Work lamps were pulled out of storage and set up to cast long bands of light along the corridors. Men with flashlights and guns assisted the marines in searing the crawlspaces and hidden corners within the girders and wires along the envelope.

Erastus and his partner had just come along the blood stain leading outside the envelope, he turned his head towards the radio on his shoulder and soon four more marines came in from either side along the envelope and several sailors hoisted lights, their own guns slung on their shoulders, to light up the shadows.

Back in the control gondola Towser ordered the steam bags to be emptied, causing the ship to dip and fall out of the sky, picking up speed as it left the Tesla behind engines powering the ship away, back to DT. A swarm of AIM-120s leaving the port launcher as a farewell.

The Captain had mixed feelings as he watched the havoc wreaked across the enemy airship. Watching it sink down, infra-red cameras portraying well the true extent of envelope leaks across the opposition. It seemed that now, with maybe even structural integrity threatened, the enemy were limping off back home. With the assault crew aboard.
"Damn it! Get those engineers to hurry up on fixing the engine. If I can't have full power on both, then disable the governors - I'm gonna catch that airship if it's the last thing I do.
And send word to the fleet that we may need some ULR strikes against this one."

Down in the engine gondola, workers scurried over the left engine as the wire wrapped around the shaft was ripped away. Coming from the engine spares, another prop was already being fitted from an external gantry by 5 workers. Soon, they'd be able to fire it up again. The head of the engineers in the area walked along the length of these 32-cylinder beasts, checking parts over rapidly before engaging two large levers on the monstrosities - the governor unit was now disconnected from the engine. Whilst normally only disconnected to allow for maintenance, it was occasionally used to try and get the maximum out of the engines. At the risk of completely destroying them of course, but that was one to be expected from pushing these leviathans past factory limitations.

A cry came out as the airship detected a final host of inbound missiles: small AAMs it appeared, as a final deterrent to the Tesla. The now reloaded autocannon let only the brave few past again, to impact on the underbelly. Now though, the engineers weren't bothering that much to fix these ruptures: they had much more important things to focus on.

_______________________________________

The Lieutenant swore as she heard the men moving beneath her, signalling for the rest of the unit to prepare their weapons. As she saw the man examine a splash of blood, she aimed downwards while moving along the beam towards more cover. As she started moving, her hand dropped. Seven assault rifles rang out pointing downwards, the full-auto fire meaning anyone below would be lucky not to be hit. The whole lot began shuffling away as they fired, hoping they wouldn't be ambushed, moving towards the top of the airship.


Outside, the machine gun held by the inverted man jammed, leaving him hanging quiet. He quickly fumbled to the release catch, allowing the loaded belt to drop free. Inside, his prying fingers caught around a bent case, ripping it out before leaving it drop below him. He slotted in the rest of the belt and continued firing, now aiming at whichever external gantries he could see, regardless of who was there. His vision was now clouded by rage and nausea, most of the blood in his body pooled in his head. Above him the rest of the group had moved over to the gondola, where one was making a start on the window panels with his knife. Once that was out, he'd end up getting a clear shot right into the gondola. Around him, the rest of the group were spread out preparing to fire upon any gantries in sight of them. One smiled at a security camera they had just noticed, before smashing it in with the butt of his rifle.

"Sir they're coming around."
"I'm sure they'll give chase, at the least they wouldn't want to leave their boarding party behind. Full power, every thing we've got. See what you can do about getting those two engines online," Towser ordered.
"We also lost the foremost port vectored thrust engine."
Towser dropped his eyebrows at the late report. "Very well, see to it as well. Give us everything we've got. Our turbofans should be no match for their bulk, send for some fighter escorts anyways."

The Indomitable soon accelerated to 100 mph, only slowly surpassing it though with the missing engines and envelope damage. On the Nimitz support vessel far below and beyond the horizon two flights of F-35s waited ready on the tarmac.
"Jester-235, cleared for takeoff. Catapult armed."
"Roger that, engines are already on."
The two fighters engine cones narrowed and they opened their throttles as the catapult launched them off the carrier.
"Jester-235 to control, going supersonic. Indomitable: we will be there in 3 minutes."
"Good hunting Jester," the control tower sent out as the two jets hit the afterburners and screamed out of sight. Already the second flight of F-35s was preparing to relieve the first when they had emptied their holds.


Above, the marines' body armor and steel helmets clanged and strained as they absorbed rounds from above, all six slipping off the catwalks to wedge behind cover, alive or dead. Their guns rattled off, filling the offending direction of attack with lead. The sailors did their own part, standing back a bit they soon had the powerful work lights pinned on the scampering assailants. Their own less accurate shots popped off. Their shouts brought other crew members and the remaining three marines running, another man pulling the ship board alarm. Now a blaring klaxon sounded over the din and emergency lights joined the host of shadow-casting lights to illuminate the attackers.

In higher catwalks engineers paused in their work and shouted positions to their approaching gun bearing comrades. One had a pistol and fired off a clip from above at the first foreigner he saw, adding to the gunfire already upon them. The only thing that stopped the crew members from firing on exposed enemies was the occasional un-punctured gas cell, which was rare after the recent attack.

Near the outer control gondola, a couple of men came out to inspect the damage done to the control gondola and were startled to see more men descending on it. They ran back inside, fleeing from a random wave of machine gun fire, latching the hatch behind them to alert someone with a gun.


Towser's expression darkened as the camera he peered through at the boarding party breaking into his gondola went blank. "Where is that window?" he stormed, searching through the roomy gondola before finding it.

His lip curled into a cruel smirk as he stared through at the man working his way through the thick silicon caulk sealing the window, the two locking eyes. He drew his hefty auto-revolver and held it at an angle towards the mans head. Had the window been missing it would've been a terribly gory point-blank shot. "Captain, please distribute the officers' firearms," men scurried to readiness around him, a few spare hands joining his back.

"Main fleet to Tesla, be advised - enemy fighter aircraft detected inbound, ETA 3 minutes. Origin is surface ship near position."
"Tesla to Main fleet, requesting for long-range engagement of said enemy ship: we're saving our ammunition for the airship."
"Main fleet to Tesla, request accepted. Missile strike ETA 5 minutes."

Far away, beyond the horizon, the AAS Ra let rip a loud roar as it fired off its load. The Ra was an Aerocruiser noted for being fitted out for an Ultra-long range standoff, being one of the only airships to carry large ballistic missiles. Locking onto the enemy carrier via the sensors of the AAS Tesla, it had let slip form its missile bay four Luna-class Inter-regional Ballistic Missiles. Each missile was 20 metres long, giants that just fitted into the missile bay. These four were out of a total of sixteen aboard, all equipped with 1000kg HE warheads. Leaving the booster charge to drop and the main rocket to ignite, the missiles continued in an upwards arc, rapidly gaining speed until the primary stages were dropped. At thermospheric altitudes, the missiles deployed their final stages as the guidance vanes in the exhausts swivelled around to guide the missile: now 180km above the enemy carrier, it was just a matter of gravity-assisted acceleration to ridiculous speeds.

____________________________

On the outside of the gondola, the man moved to the side as he let the window panel drop inwards onto a control panel. As he did so, his accompanying retinue let rip randomly through the hole into the gondola, not caring about where they were aiming. Inside, bullets rattled around as they leant with bodies flat either side, barrels protruding into the now-unarmoured gondola.


Inside the airship, chaos reigned supreme. By now, the 7 had realised they'd been spotted, and as such were trying to find a way out of harm. This consisted of their airship warfare training coming back to them. The Lieutenant signalled the rest of the group to move to the end of the beam as men above them began yelling, before she jumped. She fell downwards quickly, thrusting out a knife to hook onto a thick wire. This gave her enough swing to fly up onto an unoccupied gantry, moving towards the envelope. Now they had caused chaos, they would leave those inside to shoot at each other, not knowing in the claustrophobic atmosphere whether it was friend or foe. Behind her, four more men thudded onto the gantry, one cursing at a bruised shoulder, his armour strap almost ripped off by one round. Behind her, one man collapsed in the heavy gunfire, falling backwards into exposed cells and continue falling. Another man missed the jump, immediately adopting the straight-leg escape position to punch through as many cells as possible so that he could leave the airship. Building up enough speed to rip a hole in the envelope, he counted to three as his battered body left the airship before deploying his parachute. He continued gliding, preparing his emergency water equipment including the lifejacket, and setting off his distress beacon.