NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: A re-intro. It'll be opened at a certain point. You'll know when.

IC: "So, Captain. I'm sure you can see our predicament."

Captain Todd Gauzier, skipper of the HMS Iron Duke, looked down at the minister with scarcely-hidden contempt.

"You want me to tell the whole damn planet you're good?"

A sigh came from Minister Scarsborough, First Lord of the Admiralty.

"Sir, you are a servant of this government."

"With all due respect, Minister, I am a servant of the king. My commission comes from him."

"In theory."

Gauzier smiled, running his fingers along the bottom of his chin.

"You want me to go out onto that holovision and tell ten billion people you're worth voting for. That abolishing the franchise for half a billion natural-born humans is going to fix the kingdom. That increasing the taxes on the rich will make the poor better off. Why me, Minister? I know you've split your own government down the middle with this agenda - don't look so surprised, I keep up on these things - and you know that there's not a chance in damnation that I'd support you."

"Captain, you defeated the Vox at New Bombay. The first real war the Serene Kingdom engages in for a century, and you save twenty million lives."

"The Vox were just pirates with dreams of glory. Not really a war. Not against real warships."

"Maybe so. Nevertheless, with your support for these measures, we have a chance of keeping the nation together."

"Even if I supported them, Mr. Scarsborough, I wouldn't do so in public. I have a duty to neutrality. I swore the oath."

"Very well, Captain. Then, as First Lord of the Admiralty, I have the power to revoke your commission for disobedience and incompetence."

Gauzier laughed.

"How do you plan to do that, Minister? Your government's falling apart, and, as you noted, I'm a war hero. Are you planning on obliterating your political position altogether?"

"Hardly."

"Then-"

Scarsborough held up a hand.

"Be silent, Captain. That is an order."

Gauzier fell silent.

"You are to take the Iron Duke, and join Admiral Melloncamp's fleet at Exeter. There, you will lead an.. expedition against the colonists of the New Trade League. Nothing more than the complete destruction of all colonial vessels is desired. Admiral Melloncamp will keep his fleet in reserve in case of colonial perfidy."

"And if I refuse to take up this... butcher's task?"

"Well, then. You will be relieved of command, of your pension, and, I can assure you, the Hon. Order of Physicians will be given orders never to touch your little daughter."

Gauzier's eyes narrowed, and his hand went to his belt.

"What was her name? Julia?"

"If you touch Vicky, it'll be the last damn thing you ever do."

"Then, captain, why not simply speak in support of our policies? We both get what we want, and, I'm sure, for such a.. noble speech, concessions could be.. given. Admiral Melloncamp, for instance, is old. He deserves a pension and a nice fireplace to sit by with his wife. And the Spinward Fleet would need a new commander, no?"

Gauzier shuddered.

"Fine. I'll speak to support you."

Scarsborough waved a finger.

"Uh-uh-uh. Not just yet. You're an honourable man, Captain. Your conscience might trouble you, and give you.. a motive, might we say. Against this new government. You're going to need to get your hands dirty. Quid quo pro. You have something on us, we have to have something on you. Therefore, your orders stand. Wipe out those troublesome colonists. Reduce them to submission - their declarations of freedom mean nothing to me. We cannot be having such a weak point on the northern border in any case, no?"

Gauzier looked at Scarsborough, and his eyes flickered imperceptibly.

"Is there anything you'd like to say, Captain?"

"If you ever talk about my daughter again, I'll kill you."

The urbane minister showed no shock, merely chuckling.

"Very well. Be a good chap and run along now, why don't you? The fleet can't wait forever."

Gauzier turned wordlessly and left the room. Disgusted with himself, he knew it was the only way to earn advancement. Nevertheless.. he sighed. Nobody could ever find out.

The HMS Iron Duke floated in orbit. Every maser dish was polished to perfection, the blocky construction hiding missile pods and railguns, placed to be seen only after they were fired.

Gauzier stood on the bridge, fuming.

"Sir. We've completed preflight checks. All engines are running at one-hundred percent, apart from fifteen, which is at eighty-eight. It'll only be fixed in drydock, and the Iron Duke isn't scheduled for another eight months."

"Weapons?"

"Running hot, sir. We're the most heavily armed thing in orbit. Masers are fine, hydrogen flares are armed and ready for combat. If the colonists raid Bermuda, we'll be able to set up a few fleetkiller missiles before they even get a chance. Our cadence lance was damaged during the Philadelphia assault."

"Any news on when we're going to be fitted with that decoherence cannon?"

"Probably never, sir. They're expensive, and we're just a battlecruiser. The Hood is a much newer ship, and she's not set to receive hers for another year and a half."

Gauzier ran his fingers down the side of his face, and turned.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Jackson. Your service these past three tours has been exemplary. I think you should know that, while I was planetside, I put your name down for a commendation."

Jackson saluted.

"Thankyou, sir. It's been an honour to serve with you!"

How much longer will he think that?

Gauzier shook his head.

"Sir?"

"Nothing. I'm just.. thinking about this upcoming mission."

"Oh. When are we going to receive our briefing?"

"Classified, Lieutenant. Thank you for your rundown on the ship's systems. I hope our anti-relativity gate is prepped and ready for use, as we'll be leaving as soon as we get beyond relativity-inducing gravity."

Jackson saluted, and left the bridge.

"Mister Helm, kindly take us out."

Gauzier sat, and thought. The Iron Duke was more heavily armed than anything the colonists had, and it was unlikely their merchantmen were going to be able to put up more than a token resistance. It wasn't going to be a difficult mission - merely a repugnant one.

December 25th, New Boston
High Orbit

The fleet slowed to orbit amid the wreckage of the First Militia Fleet. New Boston had been the most prominent of the rebellious colonies to repudiate extraplanetary rule, and thus she had been chosen as the first target. One of the many independent, allied worlds that fought against the Serene Kingdom during the First Colonial War, New Boston had supplied almost two hundred converted merchantmen to help destroy the Kingdom's fleet. The first assault here had failed, eight vessels, including the Iron Duke's namesake being destroyed.

This assault, if one could call it that, was much more successful.

"Damage report, Mister Jackson."

"Superficial, sir. We lost power to the third entertainment, and incurred eight casualties. All non-crucial crewmen. Our gravitics are fine, as are all matter-burners."

"Fleet casualties?"

"None. The New Bostonian fleet had been disputing the rights of New Columbia to use the Ionian gas giants as refueling stations without paying tariffs. They've been involved in a standoff for weeks, but antimatter has largely been shipped out to them via this fleet of merchantmen we just destroyed. It's unlikely they'll have enough power left to reach New Boston again, and combat us."

"Anything else?"

"Yessir. Admiral Melloncamp has asked that you join him for dinner on his ship."

"Very well. No doubt he wants to discuss strategy."

Gauzier turned, and went to his personal shuttlebay.

On the other side of the world, a call went out. A call for help, to other colonies - and beyond.

This is the legitimately elected government of New Boston. We have been attacked most brutally by the Serene Kingdom of Travellia, in violation of several treaties, as well as the goodwill that had previously existed between our sovereign nations. It is the Kingdom's intent to reclaim an empire that once existed here, and destroy our hard-won freedom. If any other colonies in the New Trade League hear this message, be warned. We must stand together. If any other powers in the galaxy hear us, we ask most humbly for your aid, offering anything a free people might.

The Representative House of New Boston

The Message headed out into the stars and was picked up by the passing 7th Imperial War Fleet. The 7th Imperial War Fleet was under orders to prepare training operations in this part of the Galaxy far away from Imperial Space in the Antaries Galaxy.


The message was quickly picked up by several ship sensors running a standard sweep of each system they entered trying their best to avoid inhabited systems to avoid having their fleet’s movements noted by local galactic powers. It seemed they had the misfortune of being discovered by a rogue transmission from the colonials of New Boston.


Lord Admiral Garlin Carlov VII was watching for any local transmissions and listened to the message as the sensor technicians played it for him to hear….


~This is the legitimately elected government of New Boston. We have been attacked most brutally by the Serene Kingdom of Travellia, in violation of several treaties, as well as the goodwill that had previously existed between our sovereign nations. It is the Kingdom's intent to reclaim an empire that once existed here, and destroy our hard-won freedom. If any other colonies in the New Trade League hear this message, be warned. We must stand together. If any other powers in the galaxy hear us, we ask most humbly for your aid, offering anything a free people might.

The Representative House of New Boston~

The Lord Admiral frowned and his large 7ft tall frame seemed uneasy about this message. The Deatharoni were not ones to get themselves involved in other people’s problems and this was not even their galaxy of origin. They hardly had the right to just come in like knights in shining armor to lay low the villains of this “serene Kingdom” of Travellia…



The Lord Admiral however wanted to test his fleets abilities and a small brush fire skirmish with a local power seemed like a good way to do just that so with a quick psychic connection he projected his thoughts to the fleet….

~This is Lord Admiral Garlin Carlov VII, I hereby order our fleet to combat positions and give the decree of sending our fleet to aid these poor colonists from the greedy advances of the serene kingdom of Travellia. We do this to both gain a friend in this galaxy and to train ourselves should war ever reach the Antaries Galaxy and our Imperium be in danger of such threats!~


The Captains of the various ships began to power up their wormhole generators and the fleet moved in formation towards the location of New Boston with the goal of fending off the Travellian threat…

"Admiral. It's a pleasure."

"I'm sure, Captain Gauzier. I will be using New Boston as my base of operations. Let us be past pleasantries, for we are both men of action. Select a battlegroup, and I will tell you what of it I can spare for you. You will be destroying all New Trade League commerce within twenty-five lightyears."

"Very well, Admiral. Let us not deliberate further. We shall do this distasteful thing quickly and without ado."

Melloncamp raised an eyebrow.

"Do you not believe in the Serene Kingdom's righteousness of rule here, Captain?"

"I prefer not to discuss politics with my superiors, sir."

"In any case. Here is the order of battle for this particular fleet, Captain. We shall receive reinforcements in a week. Until then, be frugal. Very frugal."

- - - -
Colonial Expeditionary Force
Battleships:
HMS Repulse
HMS Invincible
HMS Victoria
HMS Black Prince
HMS Devastation

Battlecruisers:
HMS Iron Duke
HMS Ajax
HMS Agememnon
HMS Royal Oak
HMS Tiger
HMS Furious
HMS Courageous

Cruisers:
HMS Aurora
HMS Galatea
HMS Undaunted
HMS Montrose
HMS Sutherland
HMS St Albans
HMS Pembroke
HMS Grimbsy
HMS Chiddingfold
HMS Atherstone

Destroyer Groups:
Chastity Flotilla
Menagerie Flotilla
Ardent Flotilla
Sunfish Flotilla
Swordfish Flotilla
Zebra Flotilla
Minerva Flotilla
Sirius Flotilla
Hydra Flotilla

Non-Capital:
300 Orion-class frigates
220 Caesar-class minesweepers

END ORDER OF BATTLE

Melloncamp smiled.

"Full flotillas, my dear Captain. Twenty per flotilla, not to mention a few of those older frigates. You should have plenty of forces to destroy any colonial opposition."

He paused.

"And you should destroy all colonial opposition, regardless of personal feelings on the matter. Are we at an accord, Captain?"

Gauzier nodded slowly.

"Yessir."

"Then that will be all. Return to the Iron Duke, and prepare yourself for departure."

OOC:I may have a way for joining; get online as soon as you can HT and we'll discuss it.

OOC: This is for Telros.

IC: "Get me a fleetlink to Admiral Melloncamp. He's going to need to know my intentions."

"Of course, sir."

A holographic image of the admiral flickered to life in a nearby sphere, turning to look at Captain Gauzier.

"It has only been two hours, Captain. Have you already made your fleet selections?"

"Yessir. We've received information on a large New Bostonian tradefleet, heading towards an unknown destination. They're hoping to open trade and alliance with a new power, at a rendezvous point in a neutral system. If they gain the aid of this nation, we could be in for a longer and more painful campaign."

"So you intend to destroy this second nation's tradefleet as a warning?"

"Nosir. I simply intend to destroy the New Bostonian fleet as a warning, and to reinforce the fact that there is no profit to made in trade with rebels."

"Very good, Captain. What ships are you taking?"

"Battleships don't have the maneuverability I want, sir. I'll be taking the Iron Duke and the Ajax as my heavier support, as well as the Montrose, Sutherland, and St Albans. The Hydra flotilla will serve as my rearguard, keeping open antirelativity gates during combat, in case we're outnumbered. Half of the Hydra flotilla will serve as farbound pickets, ensuring we're not ambushed."

"Very well, Captain. Godspeed."

Gauzier saluted, and the hologram shut off.

"Mister Pepperbroke, kindly activate antirelativity gates."

"Aye aye, Captain."

The ships blinked, and bent out of view, suddenly hurtling faster than light could keep up with them.

Within but a few hours, they had reached the system. Termed NCS-NE-541 by the Kingdom's charts, they suddenly slowed, reaching sublight speeds within a second. While still travelling at near-c, they would be easily detected - but at such speeds, not long before they were able to enter combat.

"Sensors read two fleets, Captain. One matches colonial idents. Shall we prepare to open fire?"

Gauzier waited a moment longer than perhaps was necessary. But he knew his duty, even if he did not like it.

"First, relay a message."

"Yessir."

"Attention, all vessels in the system. This is now a restricted Imperial zone. All colonial vessels in the area are commanded to power down their weaponry, shields, and drives, and await boarding. If this action is undertaken, your crews will not be harmed. All non-colonial vessels in the area are hereby instructed to leave the area. Any weaponry fire will be regarded as hostile, and action taken appropriately."

A message came back almost immediately, accompanied by a volley of fleetkiller missiles.

Sic semper tyrannis!

"Very well. As the duly invested representative of the King, you leave me no choice. You, as well as all fleet crewman, are hereby condemned to death."

"Captain, they've fired antimatter clusters. Proper fleetkillers."

"Run point-defense. All plasma flares online, as well as relativistic chaff. Activate cadence lances, fire at enemy fleet. There are a total of seventeen fleet vessels, thirty-two merchantmen. No capital ships. The colonials only have frigates and destroyers. This shouldn't be much of a battle."

"We can't fire our own fleetkillers without destroying the nearby fleet, though."

"I know. We'll rely on superior firepower to destroy the colonials. Fleetkillers can wait until after that other fleet leaves - or joins the colonials."

The missiles fell easily short, each quietly disabled long before they came within range of the fleet, their massive explosions doing little more than overwhelming the sensors of the Travellian fleet for a tenth of a second.

Still, though. Captain Gauzier worried. What about the other ships? He had no information on them - it rankled. They were an element of uncertainty, and those were never good.

He'd have to wait to see what they were going to do..

Information flows through the nexus that is the Chief Information Officer's office. As well as providing the information infrastructure within The Garbage Men Corporation as well as collecting and collating information external to the business. Looking for business opportunities for so called 'dirt' and basically anything that could be of use for The Garbage Men's more sensitive operational areas.

In this case the prepared assault on the New Bostonian rebels provided an opportunity no matter what the result.

TGMS Operations 1723 had been assigned to make initial contact with both the New Boston strikeforce as well as the New Bostonians themselves.

It burst into the outskirts of the New Bostonian systems coming from FTL, and sent two previously prepared messages towards the Two Different Groups

To the Travellian Strikeforce:

To: Officer-in-charge
From: Captain Ender, TGMS Operations 1723
Encryption: Dynamic Standardising Encryption

Greetings, we represent The Garbage Men corporation, an intergalactic waste management, reclamation and sanitation service provider, from the limited information we have in regards to the current conflict with New Boston we predict a decisive victory for your forces however, we also predict the conflict will take heavy toll on planetary infrastructure, dead bodies and various debris from various armaments.

We would like to enter into discussions about our corporate services to reclaim the post-conflict travellian territory and make it appropriate for new colonisation. Please note, to provide effective service we will have to gain access to the planet to start analysis of New Boston as pre-conflict as possible. We will attempt to get our personnel of the ground to achieve the superior service that The Garbage Men corporation is known for.

Our ship will remain on the exterior of the system until the point at which it is deemed that operations can start on the planet.


To the New Bostonian Government:

To: Leader of the New Bostonian Government
From: Captain Ender, TGMS Operations 1723
Encryption: Dynamic Standardising Encryption

Greetings, we represent The Garbage Men corporation, an intergalactic waste management, reclamation and sanitation service provider. Due to the nature of our business policy we are to be neutral in any conflict, however should New Boston survive against the Travellian onslaught the New Boston will need to quickly consolidate it's position including recovering anything that can be from the destroyed Travellian ships.

However to provide the superior service that The Garbage Men is known for we will have to gain information about the operations of Travellian ships.

To discuss future operations of The Garbage Corporation after the conflict has ended we would like a send a delegation to the planet, the TGSM Operations 1723 will remain on the exterior of the system until it is deemed it is safe enough to start operations.

They were hedging their bets between the both of them, so theoretically no matter what would happen the corporation would benefit.

The Colonies had come on personal request of the United Nations of Telros President, who had finally gotten Congress to allow her to undo the isolationist laws to the point that she could send out calls for trade and companies to come invest. The military had deemed themselves at a point where they could defend themselves against most foreign enemies, due to their technology being advanced to a point where they had energy shields and other stronger technologies. So they had sent out calls for trade and the results had been very promising. A one New Trade League, which promised a large amount of trade and profit if they joined. Both sides had opened up talks to work out the basics of diplomacy and get to the trade agreement and within days, one was signed and ratified. Then merchant fleets began to come and get their goods, which they were making plenty of.

And now, hell had broken loose. The sudden war the Serene Kingdom was unleashing reached the door of the United Nations in the Terja system. The defense fleet in system had been deployed to protect their trade ships and keep pirates away. Due to natural Telrosian paranoia, it had been a full two battle groups. A battlegroup had ten ships, one cruiser, two destroyers, four frigates, two missile frigates and an artillery cruiser. In command of this force was a Commander Neil White. And he was none too happy about what was going on. He was watching over trade agreement going on, then suddenly a fleet warped in. Warnings sounded all over the fleet and the ships went to Code Red. He saw chaos erupt after a message arrived:

"Attention, all vessels in the system. This is now a restricted Imperial zone. All colonial vessels in the area are commanded to power down their weaponry, shields, and drives, and await boarding. If this action is undertaken, your crews will not be harmed. All non-colonial vessels in the area are hereby instructed to leave the area. Any weaponry fire will be regarded as hostile, and action taken appropriately."

White grimaced and motioned for the comm officer to get a channel open. Fighters and bombers poured from the holds of the ships as he began to speak. "Unknown vessels, this is Commander White of the United Nation Navy. You are in our territory and thus violating our space. Your claim for a zone falls flat, as does your call for the merchant ships to stand down and be boarded. This is our territory, so I DEMAND that you leave. Other actions not used to enact the motion of fleeing will be taken as hostile and you will be fired upon."

He cut off his part of the channel and looked at the comm officer. "Send a distress call, there's far too many of them for us to safely deal with, and I don't like the looks of those energy fluctuations by the ten cruisers hanging in the rear. Also, inform all ships to ready weapons and get target locks, I want to show them that..."

Whatever he was going to show failed as the Colonies fleet opened fire with their missiles, which caused the invasion fleet to open fire with their point defense systems and retaliate with energy beams. Beams that had high energy ratings. He narrowed his eyes as he did some quick thinking. Yes, he knew what his orders would be if he was to be given them. As the blasts began to hit the overgunned Colonies fleet, he instituted his orders. He saw the lack of fighters in the enemy fleet and reasoned that they would have point defenses to compensate for that, and the missile spams they faced. He grimaced, this was going to be hard.


"Have all fighters and bombers retain Defense Formation Omega and watch out for missile spams. The artillery cruisers are to begin unloading their KD systems, and all missile arrays they have. All ships are to add their own as well; they may have a highly developed point defense system, but we CAN overwhelm it, especially if we give them something else to think about."

He paused as the fleet complied, with a wide array of missile launches, enough to make any rookie wet himself with fear. "Which leads me to my next phase. Have all ships ready railguns and fire on the enemy destroyers. Have two railguns to one ship, to weaken their shields. Then have the Focused Plasma Beams charging during this. The aftermath of the railguns should have generated some charge, and pour that energy into the cannons. This will allow us to hit them with anti-cap weaponry and wipe out some of their lighter ships. We'll be hit hard by their larger ships, but we'll have less to deal with." He then stopped talking and called up the tactical display, focusing his energy on observing the battle.

The twenty ships unleashed a gigantic wave of missiles upon his command, while charging up the power for the railguns. The missiles consisted of EMP missiles, which would unleash a powerful EMP pulse upon impact, thermonuclear missiles, with compressed cores to do more damage and act as fleetkillers, standard explosive missiles, and the KD system types. The KD missiles came in two variants, Shotgun and Pufferfish. Shotgun was a missile that exploded and sent a hail of high speed kinetic shards to impact and cause large scale damage, but its focused in one area, maximizing damage but making it work against single ships or one or two clustered ones. The Pufferfish has a function that when it explodes, it sends out the kinetic shards in a half-circle away from the direction it came from, hitting more overall but doing less damage. The missiles kept a fair distance from each other, so the explosions and their aftermath would not compromise the other missiles overly much and they also began to take their own attack patterns when they locked onto targets.

As this was distracting the enemy fleet, with the missiles exploding and causing hell for them, they locked on with the railguns and fired powerful slugs at high speeds towards them. They were capable of ruining frigate class ships in short order. Using the excess energy from the launch and the slow buildup, they then followed up with the FP Cannon, which fired a condensed powerful plasma beam, capable of slicing through shields and armor with equal ease. This was their cap-killer and it was going at their destroyers. As the large red beams sliced through space at their targets, White grimly watched and waited to see how they would react.

Quote:
This is the legitimately elected government of New Boston. We have been attacked most brutally by the Serene Kingdom of Travellia, in violation of several treaties, as well as the goodwill that had previously existed between our sovereign nations. It is the Kingdom's intent to reclaim an empire that once existed here, and destroy our hard-won freedom. If any other colonies in the New Trade League hear this message, be warned. We must stand together. If any other powers in the galaxy hear us, we ask most humbly for your aid, offering anything a free people might.

The Representative House of New Boston

TO: New Boston Government
From: Universal Government

We would be willing to help you cause, we can offere supplies such as small-arms,food, ammunition and some other equipment.The Universal Government may also drop off a task force to help. We only ask that our voice be heard in your government and you take a few steps towards our side.

Signed: Kash Wilson: The Great Leader of the U.G

OCC: I just plan on giving weapons to the soldiers, i might fight a little though.

Admiral Melloncamp laughed.

"Of all the sheer... audacity. I haven't seen this in some time. I suppose we were hardly subtle in making our entrance."

He sighed, and quietly slid back down on his chair.

"I don't honestly know. They could be useful, but we're not here to secure planetary surfaces. Just to crush the economies of these colonies, so they can no longer pose a military threat to us ever again."

While we are grateful for your offer of assistance, we do not require aid in ensuring the planet's surface is pacified. Any operations of this nature are the responsibility of the military, and we cannot delegate them to non-Travellian organizations. If you have any business to conduct in New Boston, we respectfully request that it is delayed until the reckoning is complete.

Yours sincerely,
Admiral Melloncamp,
Officer in His Majesty's Navy

On the surface below, marine strikeforces burst into houses of delegates, dragging them - often along with their entire families - into nearby shuttles, as so to keep them all captive. New Boston would not be allowed leadership during this crucial time.

One marine, struggling with a screaming woman, looked over at the house.

"Sir, the transceiver's got something on it!"

"Leave it, for now. The second team will come and secure it as soon as we leave."

"Yessir."

On the transceiver sat recorded a copy of the Garbage Men's second message..

"Give me an analysis by size."

"Sir. They don't appear to have anything of proper capital size. Their largest ship averages a destroyer. We only have fifteen against their twenty - not to mention the thirteen colonial ships, but we outmass them almost three-to-one."

A flicker of fire appeared in space where a cadence lance had ripped through a colonial frigate.

"Over three-to-one, sir."

Cadence lances lit up the void with green luminescence, scoring their way towards their foes. While only the cruisers and battlecruisers were armed with the lances - and only one or two each, they were weapons of unusual power, capable of ripping apart smaller ships in short order.

"Mister Jackson, status!"

As the first volley of missiles soared towards them, point-defense opened up in earnest. Maser fire tore apart smaller missiles, each tiny flicker of light bringing a whimsical hint of a smile to Captain Gauzier's face.

"Sir, we've got a point-zero-two escape rate on those missiles, but we'll be able to crush them using gravitics."

Gauzier looked down at his hand. It trembled, beyond his control.

"It's funny.", he murmured.

"Sir?"

"Nothing. Nothing important."

"Sir! The Perseus has taken the brunt of enemy fire! She's been hit by a plasma cannon, and requests permission to retire. Her engines are still active, but her firepower is at eight percent. The entire front of the ship is molten, life-support isn't going to hold out much longer at this rate."

"Permission granted. Replace her with the Argo. I know her captain's raring for combat. How are the other destroyers holding out?"

"The Euryale and the Phygria have taken minor damage, all other destroyers have reserves at over ninety percent."

"Colonial ships?"

The colonial fleet was already dispersed, railguns and masers pinning them down, while cadence lances tore them apart.

"Four left, sir. Out of an original sixteen, seven are disabled, five are destroyed. Their firepower is negligible."

"Launch fleetkiller missiles, Mister Farnham. Two volleys of forty apiece. Don't bother layering them - use one massive bombardment. Even if only one detonates, she'll give us time to close."

The massive cluster missiles, fragile eggs holding propulsion, as well as a space-warping mass of antimatter and matter, held temporarily apart by a containment field.. these were the tools of warfare. A single one of these missiles could well bring down a fleet without point-defense, eighty would be enough to saturate any sensors at long-range, and at least deal significant damage to anything at medium.

"Now, fire all cadence lances at those six missile ships. I don't want to burn down our energy supplies gravying missiles all day long. Obliterate them. Concentrate all fire on the missile ships."

The fleet's entire firepower was now focused on the missile ships. Gauzier sighed.

"A wonderful way to make first contact. Scarsborough got what he wanted on me."

OOC: Can I join? (Just making sure)

*snip*

Captain Ender paced the bridge, he was a Bajoran, one of many humanoid race within the corporation, but he was one of only a few actual Bajorans.

He read over the transmission from Admiral Melloncamp again... "Still no response from the New Bostonians?" He looked towards the communications officer who was human.

"No, sir... nothing."

"Alright, we'll have to assume that they've been gotten to somehow. Time for another message then."


Admiral Melloncamp;

Our corporation has a strict policy of neutrality in all armed conflicts that do not directly threaten our corporate interests. This is a conflict that fails on this test and so we can not engage in any act of aggression nor favour one side or the other while the battle is underway. However I acknowledge your reluctance to outsource any operations of the Travellian military. As such we will wait here until a time where the conflict has ended and we can enter more formal negotiations for our civilian operations with the appropraite Travellian authorities.

Thank you for your forthrightness on this matter.


The message was sent but still Captain Ender paced...

"Sir?..." The communications officer queried

"Yes?"

"If they have gotten to the New Bostonian leadership, then wouldn't they have our message to them?"

"Most likely yes... though it may not have been read yet, or if it has it certainly wouldn't of filtered up to the Admiral yet."

"What happen when it is, and does filter up?"

"Oh, don't you worry about that... that's my job."

"Alright sir, but can I say.... I think you should get ready the emergency FTL Jump?"

"No. We're staying here and they're going to know we'd have that powered up and it makes us look suspicious. Just keep a lookout for a reply... any reply."

For thousands of years, there was only one way the Solarians and their preceders have always interacted with reactionary kingdoms, fascist dictatorships and totalitarian states: wars in the name of freedom, siding with the opressed, seeking to destroy all oppressive governments from the face of Earth, a daunting goal that now they have achieved. From the struggle against the rise of fascism back in the twentieth century to a three thousand-year long war, once believed to be the last struggle for freedom, against the interstellar reich of the Global State. As far as one can remember, the only way Solarians ever did foreign relations with tyrannies was through war, and once the doors of the multiverse were opened against their best wishes, many realized that the struggle against tyranny is as eternal as tyranny itself. For some people, the Eternal War never ended, and the defeat of the Global State was only the beginning of a long effort to fight for the freedom, of humanity.

The AFCO(Anti-Fascist Coalition), also known as simply ANTIFA, was among thousands of organizations known to harbor their own private forces, totally unrelated with the Solarian defense agreements. Such forces were essentially wildcards devoid of any responsibility, representing officially the will of a handful rather than of their entire civilization, even though in most situations, their actions were secretly backed by most, even when they contradicted supposed alliances of convenience. With no government to answer about, it was relatively difficult to complain. Even then however, it was risky for those who dared.

The ACS Buenaventura Durruti, command spacecraft of the ANTIFA Expeditionary Liberation Fleet, was only five hundred thousands of kilometers away from its destination: the gateway to the multiverse, through a realm of complete Chaos, a road paved with good intentions, and travelled by those who saw Chaos as a mean rather than as an end on itself. The capital spacecraft, as all Assault Core Spacecrafts, was shaped like a large torchship, with its very fusion engines being nothing in the side of discrete. Inside it, the decks were perpendicular to the plane of thrust, in a convenient tower-like layout that allowed for its cruise acceleration alone to generate an Earthlike gravity. Those many kilometers were quickly being crossed, and in a few seconds it would enter into what they used to call the Shadow Universe.

Strange however was the inner layout of the vessel. More than half of it lacked space for humans to walk through, and there were no crew comforts for all were expected to stay at cryonics for most of the time. Neither existed a "bridge", for it seemed that if one existed, it was digital rather than real. However, even then, a expansive scenery of Madrid in the 1930s, littered with anarchist propaganda of such time, extended out of nowhere for those few humans inside. In the skies however, rather than what would be expected, the entire force, the bright white and translucent hulls of large ice-covered spacecrafts, could be seen as could be seen a gateway of chaos where even the most basic laws of science were twisted and nullified. A man observed in one of the many industrial brick walls a poster (http://orpheus.ucsd.edu/speccoll/visfront/imagelarge/snake2.jpg), where a red, muscular revolutionary prepared to strike a snake labelled "fascism" with his sledgehammer. Next to him, fiveo thers stood in the cobblestone street.

Francisco Santiago had not much time to say, for soon they would have to focus to avoid perishing in the psychological storms of chaos. He was essentially the one who suggested the sending of such force, of such dozen of Assault Core and Spaceborne Assault Spacecrafts, once the distress call was received, garbled by the entities of the Shadow but still comprehensible. Each separated from the other by dozens of thousands of kilometers from all imaginable angles in a 3D chart, they still stood by themselves as impressive, even though their uniformity made them look somewhat mundane. All of them were equal in shape and dimensions, and thus there was no clear sign of which was the command vessel among them He knew what had to be said in such small amount of time:

"We will fight for thousands of years, until man becomes free of all tyrants and Xenu. We will never forfeit, for this is the reason why the Confederation, why we were created: to fight for true freedom. To crush the fascist, the bourgeois, the tyrant and the reactionary. To change everything, for the better. Prepare now for our journey, and remember: the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."

They warped. The very name of their organization, although a bit too specifc on purpose, explained their primary role: to fight against tyranny, in this case of man against man. Others were more focused on the fight against all threats to the freedom and survival of humanity, the so called Xenu, which were unable to understand freedom, much less anarchy, while others sought to fight against the conformism and moral decadence that once was a much greater problem than now, since the end of the Eternal War.

To say it was a peaceful, uneventful trip would be to lie. There was more than once that the daemons of such realm attempted to seize the fleet, however, they were surprised by the complete lack of individual conscience. Every single human mind has merged, voluntarily, into a wholeness to be able to better withstand what existed in such immaterial realm, forming a temporary, decentralized hivemind, which although combining all the virtues of the individual minds it was based upon, also had all of their flaws. Whenever a truly quick decision was needed, it was a better choice than to spend hours arguing among themselves, but otherwise the individual was better than the collective mind.

Ironically perhaps, it could already be too late when the spaceborne assault force simply came, less than ten thousand kilometers from the colony low orbit, and perhaps a victory for the forces of tyranny, exploitation and reactionarism was already set. Seeing the wrecks of once a glorious force, annihilated by imperialists, by the lackeys of cowards, vagabond and worthless kings with no honor which would run like girls when challenged to a combat, but not hesitate to order for the sons of the downtrodden to die for unjust wars in his place. In the Confederation, there was no rank for cowards, and all had to, one way or another, fight and suffer in the fronts, even if death wasn't as permanent as it once were, for it was known that life would continue in other, parallel universes. Santiago was still fixated at the image, as then, from a speaker hanging from one of the buildings in such ancient city of their past history, came the message again:

"This is the legitimately elected government of New Boston. We have been attacked most brutally by the Serene Kingdom of Travellia, in violation of several treaties, as well as the goodwill that had previously existed between our sovereign nations. It is the Kingdom's intent to reclaim an empire that once existed here, and destroy our hard-won freedom. If any other colonies in the New Trade League hear this message, be warned. We must stand together. If any other powers in the galaxy hear us, we ask most humbly for your aid, offering anything a free people might.

The Representative House of New Boston"

Thousands of years ago, the monarchists, reactionaries and fascists sided to fight against the Second Spanish Republic as many of the people sought emancipation, and thus, this conflict had a very strong significance for them. The images of three-colored flags hanging, of militias advancing against all odds, of the treason of stalinists and tyranny of fascists. It was the cradle of their civilization, and to refuse aid to another potential Second Spanish Republic was like condoning reactionary pigs. It was pointless to hide their intentions now... all was set. If they were to die like martyrs, if they were to fight to death, they would. Everything was ready, and targets were being picked through the astrogation deck, as both active and passive detection systems were at their fullest. It was then that someone finally decided to question the very idea:

"Francisco. What if our actions bring more death?"

"Death is better thant life as a pawn of a reactionary pig and slave of imperialist delusions, Julio. Do not boast our force, we are going to be outnumbered even after the reinforcements arrive, once our operation begins, but if we prove we could win this conflict, other organizations will support us in this fight. We must land upon this planet quickly, and establish our groundworks for an orbital blitz and Eternal Warfare procedure."

"Eternal Warfare? Do you mean?"

"We will fight for as long as necessary to secure the future of this not so abhorrent state Julio. We will convince them that to give up this system, and once the time comes, we will have the head of that scum they call king and burn their palaces and symbols of power to the ground. The Third Commune once gave us the mission to liberate Earth and fight for freedom. Once they selected the strongest, most honest and smart to become the first colonists of Solar Communes. There is no other reason for us to exist Julio. For to thrive upon our own safety while other suffers is to allow for tyranny to prevail. Like a man once said, as fascism swept Europe: we will go on to the end, and we will never surrender."

"I see. Now wouldn't it be wiser for us to not give in our intentions immediately?"

"Each second lost is one second more for them. To stand here doing nothing is pointless: we are lucky to have reached a good positioning, and now we must react on it while we are not the center of attentions."

"Very well, I hope this is going to work, that we are not going to die in vain."

"It will Julio. These people need hope, and this is what we'll give them. Perhaps even, we may be able to show them the way of true freedom, to convince them to embrace anarchism, but first, we must fight against the enemies of the people. So, no more issues with my reply?"

"No, lets get ready for this."

Suddenly the visage of the old city of Madrid vanished, to allow them better spatial awareness, as they saw themselves floating in the middle of outer space, even though they were not really there. Targets were already being picked, with the closest Battleships being a logical focus, once it starts. Moments of tension came. It would not be hidden, for rather than a reply, it would be a broadcast.

And then, Francisco prepared himself for the moment... the moment a message would sweep across New Boston.

"This is the Scouting force of the Anti-Fascist Coalition to all free people in this system, yes, you heard it right, this is only our scouting force. We have chosen to stand for the cause of freedom. For if there is something worth to live for, freedom is it. Therefore, we still believe that an immediate cease-fire is a better solution than to waste so many spacecrafts in something that could be settled non-violently, for when the ANTIFA seeks a goal, it will not give up it. We are ready to strike any kingdom, fascist dictatorship, totalitarian state or tinpot dictatorship that opposes our objective of liberation, if necessary. It is a pity that so many decent men will die while the big fishes, whose likelihood of ever having the honor to act as warrior-kings is nil, stay behind. Too bad that we would have to kill decent man that are just coerced into serving these types, but if necessary, we will. Stop all hostilities now against the Republic of New Boston, and as for the people of New Boston, do not surrender, fight to the end, and stand for your freedom! Now, if you wish to sacrifice yourself for someone who seems too courageous to fullfill his dreams of an empire with his own hands, then go right ahead, fighting and dying for a will which is not yours, and neither the will of your people. We will not concede anything, it is either to leave New Boston free, or another engagement. The choice on whether to settle this by bloodshed or not is yours. I hope you'll take the wisest choice."

(OOC: If there are any objections, TG me or contact me through ESUS.)

White watched as the hail of missiles hit the point defenses and most were getting obliterated, the KD missiles not even getting a chance to unload. Sweat began to coat his skin as he gripped the rail; he was pretty sure now that their chances of winning were very low. Even a full war fleet mobilized by the United Nations would be having trouble with this force. Some missiles were getting through and he smiled, at least he could distract them a bit. He was quickly proven wrong as gravitic readings shot up off the scale and the remaining missiles were snuffed out. The crew watched in shock and horror as their missile spam trick was defeated. They were lifted up a bit when their MAC shells and their FP beams hit the enemy destroyers, but the results were bad. Only one retired, to be replaced by one of those in the rearguard. They all knew this was bad. They made their ships to last, to be powerful, to be able to take on fleets much larger than their own, but the enemy's technology was just too far above them to be dealt with the force currently at their disposal. White knew he had only one trick left; he had to take as many of the enemy with him as he prepared to retreat. He wasn't going to be able to hold them off at this rate. He'd be pounded into dust, forced into death by attrition. He'd take several of their ships with him, but the United Nations would be out twenty ships to their six or seven, not a good trade.

Taking a deep breath, he began to focus, but was again interrupted by alarms. The sensor officer jumped on it and began interpreting. "We have multiple launches of missiles; sensor reads large amounts of antimatter and matter within them. Each one is capable of wiping out fleets of ships sir, not our own, but the common brand, and in that number, we'll be wiped out in seconds. And we are also detecting energy buildup in their beam cannons. Targeting data indicates the missile frigates and the artillery cruisers." The officer turned to White. "Orders, sir?"

The Commander was gripping the railing so hard, blisters were beginning to form. He couldn't believe how outgunned they were. Trillions of dollar spent on researching, countless deaths and sacrifices on the part of their people, hours spent slaving away on devices and theories, all to get them to this point...and it was for nothing. They were still outclassed. He shook his head. No, they may be outclassed but if there was one thing Telrosians were, it was stubborn.

"Have the artillery cruisers unload their KD missiles into the missile swarm. Then, on my mark, detonate them. The spray of kinetic harpoons will cause explosions and make the missiles destroy themselves. We'll lose sensor accuracy, since all the shit it'll kick up will be immense. Also, move us and the cruisers into the paths of the beam cannons. We'll be able to handle those, for a time. We MUST keep our missile frigates and artillery ships alive, or we won't have a chance of getting out of here."

The sensor officer relayed the orders but paused at the last bit. "Getting out of here, sir?"

White gazed at him. "Yes, Bill. We don't have a chance against these ships. At this rate, we'll be wiped out and we'll have hardly dented them. The biggest part of our armament that is used to weaken the enemy is our missile systems. And the enemy have gravitic weapons to stop that. I don't know if we can penetrate their point defense systems and their gravitic guns at the same time. We have to retreat. Send the information data we have on the enemy ships to Command, if we don't make it, at least they will be warned. Have all ships go into defense formation Delta and prepare for Karsian Drive jump."

The ships began to move, forming a box curved line, sloping backwards, with the destroyers and cruisers in front, with their missile ships in the back. Energy began to build for the Karsian Drive as they prepared to leave. Missiles short forth from the fleet towards the incoming missile spam. The KD missiles would reach a certain point then a signal from White had them explode, sending a hail of kinetic harpoons through out the missile spam. A quick volley of MAC shells were fired at the enemy fleet, aimed at the weakened destroyers, before the explosions made sensors pointless. Along with the EMP missiles and regular missiles, the missile spam largely wiped out the fleet killer swarm, with the fighters racing out to eliminate the rest. Being a practitioner of long range missile combat, the Telrosians had their own PD system set up, although the Serene Republic had a better one.

The beams lashed out and all crews braced for the worst. The greenish-white beams slammed into their shields, making them flare a deep blue and become visible for the first time in the battle. The shields dropped sharply but not overly much and the cruisers were protected...or so they thought. "Sir, the Deacon has been hit. Shields are down to twenty-percent. Energy bleed-through has set decks 11-17 afire, and there are reported casualties. Engine efficiency down to 56%!"

White grimaced. "Have the Deacon move further back behind us and get ready to recall the fighter squadrons. Divert all power not needed for the jump to the shields and Focused Plasma Cannons, and for the ships not armed with it, their Focused Energy Cannons. We'll give them one last punch before we leave."


OOC: SC, I'm currently at the border of my nation fighting HT's Serene Republic. If you can, you'll get a chance to get info on the Colonies forces getting hit in the system. When you do, feel free to send me an IC message. Lord knows I'll need the help. =P

OOC: Just a brief question, SC. You say you're targeting the Iron Duke (which is in Telrosian space), but I get the feeling by your words you're in New Boston. Could you just clarify that for me?

(OOC: Sorry, I misreaded that the Iron Duke was in New Boston... fixing it now. Yes, they arrived close to New Boston's orbit)

OOC: Tally-ho, then!

IC: "Captain. They've moved into formation over their missile cruisers. Our swarms have been defeated by a counter-missile attack. However, they're obviously preparing for a retreat. Our firepower dwarfs theirs."

"Continue the assault at present. Switch out any ships with damage or probable shield failure. I don't want any casualties in this little escapade."

"Should we allow the Ajax to fire her decoherence cannon, sir? We'd get an assured kill."

Gauzier shook his head.

"No. If they decide to continue this conflict in the long-term, we're going to need a trump card. Let's not waste it in a battle we're likely to win anyway."

He tapped a few keys on a command console, bringing up a blinking tactical display.

"Redouble our firepower. There is no sense in conserving matter. This victory must be won as resoundingly as possible in order to impress these locals into accepting the status quo."

The battlegroup fired, increasing the volume of fire in the void between fleets significantly. The Telrosians had started failing - it was their duty to exploit that.

- - - -

New Boston Orbit

Admiral Melloncamp sighed.

"Naive."

"Admiral, they're threatening us with significant firepower, assuming this is only a scouting force - and the warfleet is fifty or so times larger."

"Nevertheless. Captain Ellis, I have a question for you. Where is our fleet positioned currently?"

"Orbit around the world of New Boston, sir."

"What is the alleged mission of these... freedom fighters?"

"To liberate New Boston."

"And you don't see a major disparity between their tactics and goals?"

"Well.."

"Captain, they are intending to engage us in orbital combat, around a world they have alleged it is their goal to liberate. A single railgun miss would have disastrous consequences for the world of New Boston. An entire fleet's firepower concentrated on us would obliterate the world's population. Therefore, they cannot engage us at range. Furthermore, they cannot fire until they are no longer at range. We have no such disability. Any engagement would give us an insurmountable advantage."

"And if they don't actually care about the world?"

Melloncamp laughed.

"That's just fine, Captain. Neither do we."

This is Admiral Melloncamp, acting under commission of the King. As should be obvious from any tactical analysis, any attack on this world would have devastating consequences for the native populace. It is well noted this is only your scouting force. If it had, in fact, been a proper fleet, I would have been forced to disregard your threats as an unfortunate jest. With the power invested in me, your militia force is hereby sentenced to death. Goodbye.

"Open fire."

The gunnery officer looked up from his console for a moment, and blinked.

"Sir, aren't we going to at least give them a chance to leave?"

Melloncamp smiled.

"No. I don't think we are."

The first array of weaponry was fairly poor. A few hundred thousand tonnes of matter, converted directly into gamma rays and little else. These were quietly focused on the AFCO scout force, along with a few thousand tonnes of c-fracs, travelling just a fraction below the speed of light.

Melloncamp rubbed his hands together and waited with a certain morbid glee. He had not become an Admiral because he disliked men dying.

White saw the energy reading spike and the volume of fire coming at the them was incredible. He only wished it wasn't him that had to deal with it. He gripped his chair as he spoke. "Are the drives ready, Ensign?" The officer, hard at work with the calculations, was moving his fingers like lightning over the keyboards. Data scrolled down the screen as explosions rained throughout the fleet as enemy weapons hit shields. The shields held but the bombardment was taking its toll as the shield sphere began to shrink, the shield generators struggling to keep up with the volume of fire. The data finished scrolling and beeped. He turned to White.

"Drive is ready sir!"

White nodded. "Have all ships target a destroyer and fire the cannons. And then get us the hell out of here."

"Aye sir."

Energy readings across the Telrosian fleet would spike, as the Focused Energy and Plasma Cannons powered up, enhanced by the diversion of energy from other systems. As one, they blasted out to strike at one of the destroyers. Then a purplish-black field surrounded all of the ships and then flashed into white nothingness....and with that, the Telrosian ships were gone. But they would be back....war had been declared this day and they would fight to the end against this foe.

OOC: Prod for response

In an instant, something was registered by the multitude of unified computers that composed the "scouting fleet"

-- Operation Melon Juice --

Goal: This isn't a soccer game, there is no goal.
Chances: 50%
Reasoning: Fascist pig cops
ETA: Unregistered
Author: Anonymous

Meanwhile, the way the Admiral replied back, the very tone of voice was clearly indicating of his intentions, and without waiting for him to finish the sentence, Francisco finally let inspiring sights to vanish for total tactical awareness to come. As for, the original transmission, it was relayed by all vessels simultaneously, no matter how there were thousands of kilometers of distance between each of the twelve spacecrafts, making it impossible to distinguish which was the command vessel. But perhaps such tactical details were considered irrelevant by them.

A thought flashed for a fraction of second as the name of the enemy was mentioned, followed by a grin, even though it seemed much more than it in the perception of Francisco's mind.

Melon... Melon camp? I am really scared.

They did not wait for the Admiral to finish his sentence. Having heuristics algorithms as natural as the lobes of the brain responsible for specific functions, they realized it was folly to negotiate. And thus, while the message was still coming, Franciscon nodded to the crew in virtual space, and soon on of them assumed a peculiar avatar, reminiscent of cyberpunk-ish datajackers.

In reality, large chucks of ice began to break in segments of the hulls of the twelve Assault Core Spacecrafts, and movable parts of the hull, all around their conical shape, opened like retractable ports, from where came them. Lenses which size was measured in two-digit meters, and things that could only be described as heavy caliber gauss cannon turrets, while some others simply had nothing. Everything while the vectored thrust main engines continued at full power. Accelerating the crafts at seven gravities with no issue, towards a direction that could only be traced in three dimensions rather than one. Maneuvering thrusters made them accelerate even more randomly, and there seemed to be no pattern or formation being followed, for each, although moving at vectors that would at least make them closer in one of the axis to the enemy force, sometimes headed towards totally opposite directions instead of using the same vector. Predictability meant death, and in fact, all of them were becoming farther from the enemy forces regarding either the x, y or z axis, even though as a whole, they approached. All active sensors were enabled. Radars, Laser sensing systems, quantum entanglement tracers. They would make the AFCO force seem like a christmas tree, but they could be detected and targeted anyway.

Lets make them think on us

Large ports opened in every one of them, all-around their cylindrical hullframes, similar to the ports of missile silos, revealing missiles of much larger scale than that usually assumed, as they quickly accelerated away from the spacecrafts. Their acceleration wasn't much impressive, but it was enough to catch up with the enemy forces should they decide to take an evasive vector. In each of them as well, smaller, collapsible anti-ballistic gauss turrets and laser lenses emerged. It was not usual to see missiles carrying their own weapons perhaps, but for Stellar Ballistic Missiles, such things were as common issue as the counter-countermeasures they had, and as aerodynamics weren't as relevant, they could carry enough weaponry to be considered "unmanned space fighters", bar the impractical elements of such concept. The fact they could outmaneuver such sorts of vessels and inflict damage even before hitting a target by themselves was a plus, but what mattered was that all of such things added mass to it, and could be retracted inside their frames for relativistic speeds.

The missiles began to maneuver towards the largest enemy spacecrafts, assumed to be the most threatening, where there were twelve "clusters" six Stellar Ballistic Missiles, each cluster becoming more spread-out with time while keeping up with the direction of the enemy capital vessels they were targeting, or more exactly, of the turrets and subsystems they were targeting, for tactical reasons. It would take them minutes to hit their targets, for there were very large distances between them, not as large as the usual engagement distance for Solarians, but still large enough to allow their excellent shields to work properly. They were unaware of the official titles of such vessels, not that they mattered. From the twelve targeted threats, all of which their enemies classified as battleships and battlecruisers in the location were targeted, coupled with a handful of cruisers, which were the twelve currently designated targets.

As expected, while the ballistic missiles, still following the inertial speed of the spacecrafts they were launched from, accelerated in a 3d diagonal vector roughly towards their targets, although not matching all three axis exactly at their direction, the message was finished, confirming that their heuristics did not make a terrible mistake, and indeed, they were about to attack. Their names were either fitting, cheesy or sometimes ironic: ACS Buenaventura Durruti, Revolución, Enrico Malatesta, Internet, Adolph, Maoass, Anonymous, Long Tomcat, Pigslayer, Stalin's Demise, Kings' Beheader and Carmilla. It was perhaps an amusing coincidence that the Internet was focusing in destroying the Invincible, just like the Pigslayer was trying to destroy Black Prince. Tactically, it didn't matter which was picking which, for all had roughly the same capabilities, except for one detail, however, it wasn't possible to discern as all were vectorially accelerating towards the orbit rather than away from it. Some of them were loaded with Space Marines, ready to liberate the planet and shoot against whatever enemy forces lied at its surface. Depending on the situation in space, soon things would again be solved as they always have been in any conflict between humans the Solarians have participated of. In fact, it was said that they were better at finishing the job by defeating entire armies in a planet with minimum collateral damage, than at starting it by wiping all space forces to achieve orbital and spatial supremacy.

No gauss cannons were fired for the moment, however, in fractions of seconds, the ultraviolet lasers began to do their job, invisibly rather than in flashy lights, by vaporizing as much of unguided kinetics they could, while more missiles began to erupt from much smaller ports, and began to head at the direction of the enemy fleet as well. Maneuvering thrusters from all vessels went at full power, and the spacecrafts were essentially moving through many opposite directions, shifting the vector of their speed constantly, making a swirling, hypnotic dance like drunks in skiing in a frozen lake with jetpacks on their backs. Sometimes the way they were trying seemed downrightly suicidal. Equally, the two laser turrets in the ballistic missiles targeted incoming projectiles, and strangely, smaller missiles not different from those which were coming from the spacecrafts began to be launched by the SBMs towards the enemy threats, from a myriad of different directions that would more or less give the impression they came from an immense half-sphere ahead rather than from a linear formation. The predictability of the trajectory of the relativistic projectiles was essentially what allowed for them to be targeted despite the light speed lag, for any force unable to calculate instantly the point of impact of such projectiles was doomed to failure.

The smaller missiles were clearly in collision route with some the enemy projectiles, and it did not take much for hails of bullets from the gauss cannons to be fired as well, as it became obvious they were autocannons, compensating a slower muzzle velocity for an incredibly high rate of fire. However, some of the threats were purportedly, calculatedly ignored. There was no way in hell that an human gunner would achieve such accuracy. Even then though, despite all the evasive maneuvers at high gees that showed why the afts of such spacecrafts were unarmed due to the space occupied by the vectored thrust torch drives, no matter how they were at least as agile as an orbital bomber, and arguably able to outmaneuver a "space fighter", it was impossible to simply use the best shielding technology against everything: advanced avoidance and active defense tracking systems sometimes had to make compromises, and thus it the inertial vector of the Internet was changed when a relativistic projectile impact over the thick layer of ice, passing through it and then through its whipple shield, in an oblique trajectory against the conical front of the same, as the spacecraft just yawed towards the direction of the enemy projectile to avoid being hit in a more vulnerable spot.

Ironclads were known to just shoot at each other until one of them was destroyed. In the school of strategy Francisco was taught, anything unable to avoid getting hit is just a tomb in space awaiting its dead. Nonetheless, the Internet was seriously harmed, as the projectile tore a hole amidst its icy exterior, and left to the other side, taking with it the astrogation deck, where most passive sensors were located. However, as soon as the holes were torn, a two-digit meters thick layer of ice began to cover them again, and the Internet stood firmly against its enemies. Or not so firmly. There came no bubble of what Solarians used to call "unobtainium-powered handwavium shield", nothing at all, even though much of the kinetic force was diminished by some sort of not so flashy gravitic or magnetic force, coupled with the whipple shield, now not so structurally sound as before. Had it been hit elsewhere, it would not have been so lucky. If some space forces could be compared to knights, the Solarian Armada would have to be compared with fencers and swashbucklers. What they lacked in passive armor and shields they had in ways of avoiding being hit. But sometimes it wouldn't work. It could also be a disadvantage for the enemy realize that their mobility, agility and massed defensive and offensive firepower, were benefits from sacrificing shielding due to its pointlessness in the universe they came from.

If robots could be considered self-aware beings, it could be said the first casualties came. Twelve Humanoid Combat Robots onboard such ACS were destroyed by the relativistic blast. As for decks, tearing a hole in a building floor won't be as much of a hindrance as tearing a hole in an horizontally laid set of decks like those of wet navy vessels. But it still slowed down the movements of repair robots and automated systems as one of the elevators was knocked out.

Glancing beams came against most of the spacecrafts, and their capability of accelerating faster through multiple vectors than the turrets and enemy vessels could turn was the only thing that ensured their "survival". There was a tension for Francisco and his comrades to watch as 3D cylindrical wireframes representing the invisible beams were seem coming very close to the Buenaventura Durruti, and sometimes hitting it for nanoseconds. There were knots in their guts as they simply entrusted the extremely agile quantum computers to do the job, having ordered them, through thoughts rather than words, to destroy the primary weapons and target the engines of the selected spacecrafts. Or not. Everything could be adapted to new situations.

Sometimes their spacecrafts were completely shaken by near-misses, and ice melted by the beams, but every possibility was calculated. The damage that the Internet took from beams was minimal compared to what the enemy kinetics did to it. Francisco knew it wouldn't take long for them to realize that the AFCO best defenses were against energy weapons, yet such realization would work at their favor. It was not yet the time to go with everything against them, although the state of the Internet wasn't good at all. One more hit and it's gone for good.

During the frenetic few seconds when the first shots were fired, in a pace that even an homo superior would find unsettling, Francisco decided to give back an answer while seeing the outer space, and feeling the pleasant sensationg of floating across the battlefield, zooming in and out, close enough to stare at the enemy forces from visual range. It was then, few seconds after Melloncamp's message, that he answered back with irreverence and disdain, forfeiting completely diplomacy at the same moment the vessels were busy dodging and returning fire, like if he either was irresponsible enough to distract himself, or if it was utterly pointless for him to focus totally his attention at the battle:

"I eat Melon for breakfast, pal. It is a nice fruit. I knew a perv who liked to do it too. Perhaps he was right about Melons and Melon Camps. He liked to go out in the night and screw the entire Melon camp of his neighbor farm. What else is the purpose of a Melon camp than to give its the fruits sprouting from the beneath the skin of earth to others?"

The mockery however was interrupted, while the datajacker continued to study as much from the comms as he could. Intercepting messages, transmissions, to hopefully find a weakness that could serve for exploitz. There was another of his comrades, a typicial young black man of his homeland, or like the politically correct crowd preferred, "multi-ethnic", who decided to give a suggestion regarding the Internet:

"Francisco, give them an Internet I say! An Internet piloting a kamizake fighter. It would wipe out anything at one shot, and it is at least as valuable as that..."

Sighing, he nodded. If indeed, their enemy primary vessels were still standing by then, it would be a necessary sacrifice. But perhaps the situation would change by then. Re-routing power from the electromagnetic reactive armor to the fusionables recycler would be risky, and the choice had to be made now.

"Very well, Let it accelerate zero dot zero zero one gees faster than the rest of our fleet then, which won't be much at all, and hope its active protection and anti-ballistic systems can hold up.

Yet it simply continued to head on, accelerating towards the enemy fleet. Only this time, it was changing its vector away from the Invincible position to head towards the Repulse, although its missiles were still targeting it. Of course to say it just changed of direction doesn't make justice to how hard it maneuvered to avoid being hit again. Probabilistic Mechanics were certainly an useful field. In fact, some preferred to use the word "probabilistic shield" over "automated evasion and maneuver algorithms" for what was their only "shield", because it was fancier.

The first waves of projectiles didn't make much besides damaging the Internet. There was the matter of orbital re-entries through spaceplanes, but they would be more of liabilities than of useful tools for the moment. Yet with every second, the massive distances between orbit and each of the Anti-Fascist Coalition spacecrafts shortened, just as the distance between their and enemy forces did. Soon the next phase of this Orbital Blitzkrieg would become feasible... provided they weren't melted, torn apart, shot down, fused, fissioned or dragged by an anomalous planetary gravity well until then.

Francisco still preferred to keep some things unused. Hopefully they would not be necessary, and thus the enemy would not have an exact picture of the entire potential of an Assault Core Spacecraft. What was more relevant however, was how he was among a few to began the first chapter of a new age of freedom fighting. How far it would go, and which consequences it would bring, were still factors to determine.

In truth, the "legitimate" elected government of New Boston was another liability. Another den of crooks alienating the people with false democracy, while the bourgeois funded the candidates to do their bidding. In truth, it was not different from a monarchy by the fact it only served to mantain a privilege rather than to benefit the people. For now though, it was better to have them as allies, specially for having little idea for the moment on how such kingdom is organized, where are its weak and strong points through outer space, and on how large are their space forces. Information is something more valuable than any pretense to push an anarchist revolution in such world right after succeeding against the reactionaries, provided they succeed.

(OOC: Whether the "leet hacker" finds a vulnerability or not in the Repulse systems, is of course, up to you)

Lord Kourai Dasc watched through the display sensors of the transport as it cruised through hyperspace toward the system of Ial. The hyperspace of this region was ‘sculpted’ it still looked, to him, like the same endless churning wasteland, but he knew that areas of it were altered in a strange, four dimensional furling way, creating jump-roads, that accelerated starships on a given course, like a ball rolling down a hill.

The ship opened a jump point, and returned to realspace, giving him a majestic view of the Planet of Ial, a grim wasteland shrouded in yellow and orange clouds. This was the heart of the Vorlon military machine, its cold dead core hollowed, in places, to create unimaginable structures in which weapons could be stored, safe from attack. Most of the active vessels of the navy remained under the planet most of the time, awaiting a call to arms. It was also a last refuge for the species, should their homeworld ever fall.

His ship dropped toward this planet, its armoured cladding consisting of continental plates reinforced with living armour, which could at short notice, sprout a thousand weapons towers from the vast core-tap complex that powered all things on the world. Revolving above it, its moon was denuded to show vast seas of crystalline matter. He had once asked what was being done there. The only answer had been that it was ‘creating the future’ however, it looked substantially more finished than when he had last seen it, now, rock and armour covered much of its surface. The small fleet hovering over the moon dispatched a few dozen fighters to escort his vessel towards its landing coordinates.

The ship fell, on a course that would look, if one didn’t know where it was going, as though it were about to ram the planet. The fighter escort decelerated, but the transport continued at a steady rate towards the center of the flat world, dropping at astonishing speed toward the atmosphere, which parted before it as a gaping, miles wide aperture formed in the very wasteland itself, closing behind Dasc’s ship.

The ship traveled hundreds of kilometers into the rocky world, finally turning end over end to decelerate. It came to one of hundreds of doors from the passage it had entered, which yawned open before it, the organo-plastic surface rippling and falling away. It revealed one of the smaller ship-caverns, where a dozen transports like his were parked, their graceful, tapering forms docked in sculpted alcoves of rock and steel.

The floor fell beneath him, as the transport re-shaped a passageway through it to deposit him, as it landed. The hull of the ship extended to deposit him on the floor, the atmosphere changing as he passed through it, from the oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere he was comfortable with, to the strange methane, carbon dioxide, and carbon dioxide atmosphere the Vorlons preferred. Still, he could breathe it, though implanted, normally invisible, gills on his neck many times more efficient than the lungs his genetic ancestry provided, allowing them to extract the oxygen from the atmosphere by a complex, mildly exothermic reaction within them.

He walked out into the corridor that linked to the ship-alcove, the walls were covered in amber, lined and veined with steel, and the doors slid apart in a multitude of different ways. The corridor changed, where it mated with a docking passage. At last, he reached a wide chamber with a translucent window on one side that looked out on the hundreds of meters of hull of a Vorlon Cruiser (Also known as a Dreadnought, depending on one's bent; in truth, it was something between the two, a battleship, by Kourai's reckoning), the heaviest class of vessels in regular use.

Even in their own atmosphere, the few tens of thousands of active Vorlons wore sealed environment suits. As such, it was difficult to tell between them, but he had the impression that he knew who he was dealing with. Besides, within a few permutations, every personality tended to be the same. The four before him were known to him as Ulkesh, Uler, Fiac, and Kamorh, but their true names were complex telepathic identifiers that they used among themselves. He could not understand their native language, for in one utterance, they would, on a multitude of audio and telepathic channels, describe the topic, related systems, the importance of the problem, suggested approaches, the relationship of the speaker to the problem, and more.

Uler, whose suit was a deep sea and light leaf green turned her solitary eye to him, and he felt a sudden presence in his mind, taking a moment to ‘read’ the complex mental message.

He read it, a briefing on their intentions, and the upgraded capabilities of this battleship, and the situation where they were going. As he mentally processed the ten thousand words or so in his mind, he could see that the ship was already leaving, some of the transports – heavily armed vessels which doubled as destroyers – leaving their docks, hovering, apparently going to their destination.

The message within his mind said that their destination was a place called ‘New Boston’ one of a few on record with that name, which the long range sensors had received an interesting call from.