The Bloody Waters of Freedom [closed, invite-only]

[Allanea]

Liberty-City, Special Operations Command

Seated at the top of a long, black wood table, was a woman in a somber black dress. Her skin was ivory-white, and appeared pallid like a corpse against the black of the dress, her raven-black hair, and the black frame of her glasses. Everything was black.

The other attendants of the meeting might have expected to have Alexander Blaken-Kazansky there instead. But with the transition to monarchy now complete, Cassiopeia Blaken-Kazansky was beginning to share in her husband’s power. Nor that they would attempt to challenge the woman’s authority in this case. She had proven herself more than competent.

Behind the woman, two Orcs carrying medium machineguns stood. They were dressed in dark-blue urban camouflage - bodyguards officially, but everyone knew Cassiopeia Blaken-Kazansky did not need any bodyguards.

The woman began to speak.

“Okay, guys.” - her manner was informal and friendly. She was not in Reichskamphen now, where men would hang on their every word merely because she was Empress and Queen, but in Allanea, where she would, even after the transition, be merely First Among Equals. - “I have a question.”

Cassiopeia Blaken dropped a single photograph on the table, a promotional photograph printed out from a company’s website. It was the image of a transport ship, clearly photographed from up above.

“Does anyone here know what this is?”

There was silence in the room.

The Air Force general, navy admiral, special forces Colonel, and senior diplomat all eyed the photograph with unease as it passed from hand to hand.

Cassiopeia waited the uncomfortable pause out.

“This is an advertisement for a dedicated slave transport made by Dark Waters Incorporated. This is actually advertised on the Internet. Our diplomats actually issued the usual threats back in the day. But then we got tied up in the Second Freemen’s Crusade... and now these people are still around, and might even think our threats are empty. I am sure none of you want the slavers to think that our threats are empty, do you?”

Cassiopeia smiled sweetly, and it became clear that to her, a negative reply was absolutely unthinkable.

The Admiral spoke. “Doctor Blaken-Kazansky. I believe that this would be primarily within my purview.”

The woman nodded. “I’m going to imagine that you’re going to offer up an ocean search operation, Admiral Reckenridge.”

He nodded, quite impressed internally. Like her husband, she had clearly researched the potential solutions before going into this meeting.

“The first thing to do is to study satellite surveillance until we spot any area where those slave ships are seen. Now of course satellites won’t allow us to track the slaveships in real time... but we can have an average study of where they travel and where their trade routes are.”

“And then we can saddle those routes with our aircraft carriers and fuck everyone up?” - Cassiopeia nodded.

“That is absolutely so. Of course I believe we will need to have a combined task force.”

“A combined task force.” - Cassiopeia spoke, tasting the words. - “I like the sound of that. Admiral, I am assuming you can determine the composition of that task force yourself, based on your superior knowledge, However, I feel that we are likely going to need to have Colonel Morrison’s help.”

The Colonel nodded, his face stern and expressionless.

“Doctor Blaken, I believe that we are going to need to have to board some of the slaveships.” - Morrison said - “The Navy’s Special Boarding Teams are going to be the best for that job, obviously.”

“Those are the naval PLU equivalents, am I correct?” - the woman inquired.

“That’s right. The Blue Whale, how many crewmen does it have?”

“A hundred crewmen. Machineguns, autocannon, drone submarines, two helipads.”

“That’s going to be a giant bitch.” - the Colonel said. He didn’t see fit to apologize, he was a Freeman. - “We would need to somehow hoist at least two SBTs on board... I think I will need time with the SBT commanders to work out a plan.”

“That’s fair.” - Cassiopeia nodded. “General Radikov, General Rebrov, our intelligence states that this Darkwaters is an immense company. As many as five hundreds sixty million employees. We are going to need the Army and the Air Force cooperating closely with the Navy on this. I believe that you have recently begun to receive new strategic aircraft from Lyras...”

“The Dragonhawk, yes.” - the Air Force general spoke swiftly, he was again rather impressed that Cassiopeia Blaken-Kazansky was this much in the loop.

“Once we have captured - and I am absolutely fucking confident we will capture at least some - employees of this corporation, we will begin locating its facilities world-wide. It will then be the job of the Air Force to immediately begin inflicting strikes, and for the Army to deliver men for anti-slavery operations on the ground. There are five hundred and sixty million slavers out there, people. Enough fleshmorsel for everybody.”

“And the diplomatic support role?” - the Ambassador asked.

“Just keep everyone off our back. Call on our allies for help. Invoke Amistad. Whine about our sovereignty. Threaten. Whatever. We can do it ourselves, thank you very much.”

*

Open ocean, suspected Dark Waters Inc. trade route

Thus it was that, several weeks later, Allanean submarines and aircraft carriers took to the sea in suspected slave trade operation areas.

Admiral Reckenridge stood on the very edge of his carrier deck, the tips of his toes poking past the railing just a bit. As he did, he watched an AWACS aircraft sail up, up and away on its patrol.

The search had begun.

[Animarnia]

Special Forces Command, Herefordshire, Animarnia

The Special Briefing Room was located in Herefordshire, and was essentially a large conference room, set up around a large central table with multiple display screen in the front. Sat around this table were the command staff. Hereford was the home of the Animarnian Special Forces, this included the Special Air Service, the Special Boat Service and the Special Reconnaissance Service. as well as the Special Forces Support Group, who operated specifically outfitted equipment for the Special Forces such as cargo aircraft, Gunships, Combat Helicopters and UAV Drones - there job was essentially to get the Special Forces into a fight, support them while they were in combat and then get them out. At this time the Briefing room in Herefordshire was packed, you could not swing a cat without hitting someone important, at the head of the Table was Audrey Fisher, who was the current Chair for the JIC (Joint Intelligence Committee), to her right was General John Dempsey, Director of Special Forces along with a half dozen department heads from each of the Special Forces Regiments. to add to matters on the one of the Big screens via a secure VPN was the Colonel James McGee, who was the current chair for MTAC (Maritime Tactical Analysis Centre). MTAC was a subsidiary of the Intelligence Community ran at least officially by the Navy, for the purpose of tracking international shipping and measuring the potential thread to that shipping by terrorism when combined the GCHQ's SIGINT and ELINT Roles, it had proven itself remarkable capable and for the last 2 years had the primary mandate of tracking The Slave trade. The Second Screen, was a Secure link to Captain Karen Grander CO of HMS Dragon - A Queen Mary Class Destroyer in the Pacific Ocean

Audrey cleared her throat, pressing her palms down her skirt. taking a tablet out of her jacket, she tapped on its screen linking the tablet into the secure system, calling down the information from MTAC and displaying it onto the table, which had its own embedded display, overlaying it with a world map - the Data showed various international shipping lanes, marked out in black, along with a number of red-dots, moving in real time - each one represented a slave ship currently in transport. tapping on her tablet again, she changed one of the central display screens to a drone feed, the high resolution imaging clearly showed a cargo-ship, its operator zooming in, showing armed men on deck. and the flags and markings of Dark waters Incorporated.

"This is the latest intelligence from MTAC" she paused; letting it sink in for a moment; "she flies the colours of DWI or Dark Waters Incorporated. DWI is a a well known slave Operator as you are no doubt aware, they are a notoriously slippery target, decentralised and split into independent cells, its like playing a game of whack-a-mole, we squash one another pops up, trying to find a specific command base has been unfruitful", she added; "We know that one has to exist, an operation on this scale could not operate without one however there does not appear to be any specific electronic Intelligence to indicate that one exists"

"We have already been seizing Slave Trade vessels that enter Nova, However, the President has now authorised us to conduct high tempo operations against DWI worldwide - drag a large enough net and we will catch some fish"

"Starting with this vessel" Audrey finished. "I Expect Operational Plans on my desk within the hour so that our Forces can begin as soon as is possible. The President will Co-Ordinate with our allies and inform them of our operations to avoid any blue on blue engagements and secure any UC' assets"

HMS Dragon, Several Days Later
The Sleek Stealthy ship practically glided through the churning water of the ocean, Captain Grander looked out from her position near the bridge; leaning against the railing, taking in the sea air; a seaman came running up; he saluted which she returned with a not "What is it Crewman?"

"Captain. We're on course to the Dark Waters ship, we've just pinged her on Passive RADAR" the crewman reported

"Very Well. Wake up the boarding team, and Spool up the HELO. I want it on deck at the double, Patch us in to STRIKENET and get us a Sat and Drone feed of the area" She ordered, and soon they would enter the belly of the beast...

[Dark Waters Inc]

Dark Waters Incorporated was not an evil company, per se. Had the world been overrun with such corporations it is feasible to suggest that they might have chosen a different path, though trying to pin 'them' down is a silly task. But the world was not a dark place full of dark men doing dark deeds and thusly there existed a space in the market. And what a market it was. Dark Waters had its bloody hand in the slave trade, hundreds of millions of slaves being transported annually through its fleet of slave vessels. Most were leased to nations and thus the paper trail leading back to Dark Waters was minuscule at best. Mercenaries- now there was a lucrative market! The world was a war-torn place and rarely did a day go by that a request for mercenary aid did not cross the desk of some DWI-aligned group or another. The vast majority of the mercenaries who ended up being supplied and even trained by the corporation did not know they worked for such an evil corporation, and how could they?

Dark Waters did not play the political game with the mercenaries. Good-natured democracy or bloody tyrannical autocracy alike were valued by the corporation as far as the check flowed, and flow they did. So many mercenaries were under the employ of the corporation that it was a common occurrence for the various groups to come into conflict with one another- the Aklaban War in particular saw a dozen mercenary organizations under the umbrella of the corporation clash with one another while operating under a dozen different contracts! The corporation always wished to repeat this. Not only were they getting all that money but they were able to cut their payroll as well. Fun times. Same with the drug trade and the arms trade. Fun times, good profits.

But it was not an unending series of successes for the corporation. Because of the nature of their business, they ran into a mountain of legal issues that normally resulted in their opponents shooting them a lot. That was fine- they hired good mercenaries who shot back effectively and even if a mercenary was lost, no big loss. But the occasional taking of their vessels was vexing. While the cargo and the vessel itself could be chalked up to the cost of doing business, what wasn't easily able to be repaired was their reputation. The corporation made a special point of hitting nations and organizations that harmed them in such a manner. Assassinations of government officials and the bribing of others. Flooding cities with cheap and powerful drugs or arming gangsters with heavy duty weaponry were all run of the mill operations.

In nations that had active opposition forces or insurgencies the results could be different. Cheap revolutions that drew focus and manpower internally, a terrorist attack that shattered a nation's self-image and brought them out of international affairs, simple things done well. It was nearly impossible to try and link such moves to the corporation, acting as it did through a great deal of proxies. No matter the size and scope of an operation, whether that was a small five-man assassination contract or the movement of several million slaves or a large combat operation involving multiple contracted mercenary groups, only a handful of people know that it was coordinated at the next level. And the same was true of the next level and every level going back to the corporation. Tying the corporation to an attempted assassination of a Lamonian official was almost impossible in this manner.

But sometimes all that secrecy and deniability was jus no good when the market itself was under attack. Anti-business forces from across the world harmed the markets that Dark Waters Incorporated inhabited and over the years it had been forced to reshape its focus. Just a few years ago, slave trading accounted for nearly forty-five percent of its revenue stream. Now that number hovered around thirty percent. The continuing assaults against their free enterprise pursuits were unkind and difficult to counter. The only way to ensure a greater degree of profit thus came down to one of two plans: Either come to dominate the entirety of the market or as much as it could, or increase the market. The second would entail bringing down the most violent anti-business nations on the planet. While that was a fine goal and one all pro-market forces could applaud, it was too ambitious at the moment. Instead, it was decided to establish a greater dominance of the market itself. To this end, reputation blows against the anti-business forces while aiding their own marketable PR was seen as vital.

And what better way to see it through than by trapping their enemies? It took a while for any nation to take the bait, much to the annoyance of the corporation. They had expected Allanea at least to attack a day or two after their internet-based advertisements began. Instead, nothing came of it. All of the planning and preparation to spring a trap had come to naught again and again. But it would happen eventually. All it took was one attack to change the face of business. And tooday, that day had finally arrived

Open Waters, DWI Corporate Vessel Abundant Joy

Finally, the day was here. The Abundant Joy had run this same trade route four times, each time with the corporation's flag itself running high. The vast majority of the time the Blue Whales were leased to nations and ran their flags, but the corporation was asking for an attack as hard as it could. It was running a route from one of the nations which had publicly ordered its services over the internet of all things. It was predictable and easy to track. The cargo was 'public'- 500 slaves and some illegal drugs. Nothing too dramatic. It was also a lie. There were five hundred slaves but no illegal drugs. Instead, in addition to the compliment of one-hundred crew, another one-hundred and fifty mercenaries were on board. The five Sea-Lion LCACs were modified, removing their torpedo launchers and machineguns for anti-submarine warfare missiles. In one of the cargo holds was one man handcuffed to a computer which was tied to something inside a box, guarded by four men. While all the holds were hardened against detection and interference, this one was especially so- triple the amount of protection. They did not want anyone seeing what was in there. All they needed was an enemy.

"This is Dark Waters Incorporated vessel Abundant Joy calling Dark Waters vessel Slippery Pete-" no such vessel existed, but the open call was good nonetheless, "-we are having a problem with propulsion. Seems minor- just needs a bit of repair. Will undergo a full-stop at the following coordinates-" the call gave the exact coordinates they planned on stopping at, "for a period of six to eight hours. Will attach message to buoy at seven-seven-eight-six point theta for later retrieval. Loss of one cargo due to illness confirmed. Small related cargo exterminated to prevent infection of the herd. Abundant Joy, out," the call ended. promptly, a nearby buoy was pinged with the message for Slippery Pete to retrieve later. The vessel slowed to a crawl and some time later, as it approached the destination laid out, it stopped.
It stopped and waited.

[Allanea]

Aboard the aircraft carrier FKS Gloririous

It so happened that Admiral Joseph Baker’s vessel - an aircraft carrier - had been closest to the source of the signal. Naturally speaking, and given the signal’s content, the Admiral ordered immediately that extreme action be taken.

That there was a slaver vessel involved there was no question. That there was another one in the area, the Allaneans gravely suspected. But worse yet, it became clear that slaves’ lives were now seriously at risk.

Action was taken immediately indeed - well, as ‘immediately’ as it takes to prepare an aircraft for takeoff. Strike fighters and AWACS expanded their patrols, seeking out the mysterious Slippery Peter, a boarding team was prepared aboard the carrier, while the ship itself steamed towards the Abundant Joy

Within several hours, the carrier’s crew could finally see the Abundant Joy as a faint outline on the horizon. Without any fear, the carrier steamed towards the enemy ship, while fighters overflew it.

A broadcast was made.

Abundant Joy!

This is the Free Kingdom Ship Glorious.

We are aware that you are a slaver vessel.

Surrender immediately. While we are aware that you have slaves on board, an attempt to engage us with anti-ship missiles will end in the sinking of your vessel. An attempt to resist our boarding team will result in your total extermination. An attempt to kill the slaves will only result in making your death painful. Surrender is your only chance of survival.

Surrender immediately or we will open fire.


The carrier's crew felt protected by their CIWS and the patrol plane, and further knew that slaves' lives were at immediate risk. Thus, the ship steamed rapidly towards the Abundant Joy, hoping to close the distance before the slaves could all be exterminated or thrown overboard.

[Animarnia]

The Signal Intercept was loud and clear, there was zero margin for error, this was a slaver ship plane and simple. that had been made abundantly clear, Captain Grender stood though, in thought - it was too easy, after years of effort monitoring and tracking slave ships along the trade routes trying to link DWI directly to its inhumane business, now they were broadcasting on an open frequency, without even the slightest encryption protocols, were they recklessly taunting their advisories growing over confident? or was there something else in play here. The Dragon, Almost Immediately picked up Allanean aircraft on its long range Radar.

"Fast Movers Inbound Captain. IFF Confirms them as Allanean Strike aircraft!", Grender inwardly winced the Allanean Commander was rushing headlong into a situation he knew little about, while she commended his bravery it was not the smart thing to do. Captain Grender, stood on the command bridge, of her Destroyer. the HMS Dragon. The Dragon, was a Queen Mary II Class Ship, a Vessel designed to meet the specific needs of the Fortress state. she looked down from her position at the viewing window onto the rear deck of her ship, the Dragon carried two LA-214 Molior Medium Utility Helicopter's and a Single MH-8 UAV based on the Fire-scout platform but designed for sea operations. the Drone was already spinning up its rotors.

"Ma'am, UCAV is standing by" Reported the Technical Operator. Grander Nodded her assent, and with that the drone took off, climbing rapidly. as it did. Grander was a much more cautious woman than her Allanean counter part, as two Sea Protectors were also launched from port and starboard holding areas and lowered into the ocean, this automated network supplemented the Destroyers own CIWS.

"Hard To Port, Mister Ricky" She Commanded, "Put some Space between us and that freighter. Something does not feel right" she could not explain it, perhaps it was ESP, or a sixth sense or simply the experience of an old sailor kicking in or even just survival instinct. but something was kicking and screaming at her insides to get as far away as they could - they could still send the HELO's in later.

"Ma'am, UAV Feed is now on-line" The Operator reported. "We're also Punched into KH-40 Overhead; and the RAF has a Global Hawk in the area"

"Push all three to the main screen", Grender Ordered. "Side by Side, if you please" she added, and the main screen, which was essentially serving as a large multi function display flickered and then side by side showed the three separate video feeds - one from overhead via a keyhole Imaging Satellite, a second wider angle shot from the Global Hawk, and the third from the Dragons own Fires Scout; All showed the Allanea task force approaching rapidly...

(OOC: I've been informed for the Grand Plan so. this is to pull my ass into line with it! )

[Dark Waters Inc]

The Allanean message was received with all the due glee by the mercenaries in the holds below. They started to arm themselves, the ragtag mercenaries' outfitted well if no exceptionally. Interceptor body armor and M4s were useful in all situations of course, but today their numbers would tell the tale. More than one-hundred of them started filing out of the cargo holds into the long hallway that led topside, still covered by the electronic jamming. No one knew they were there- not yet. Topside, as Allanean fighter jets soared angrily above and the message from the Allanean naval force was sternly delivered to the captain of the Joy, Dark Waters Incorporated security started to move around towards the various machineguns and emplacements. Oddly enough they moved around and seemingly ignored sections of the ship, easily approachable and boardable sections! They held their fire despite the temptation to take pointless pot shots at the aircraft above. They would have a more important role to play, bait or not. Inside of the ship proper, the UAVs, LCACs, and mini-subs all started to activate, their crews manning their positions...and waiting, still inside the ship itself. They had yet to launch when the full message was received. In a lonely hold, a man handcuffed to a large crate wiped the sweat off of his brow and said a prayer.

The return message took a while, the Joy turning in place as if the bridge crew panicked and forgot to stay their course. Then the ship was silent, listing aimlessly as security forces darted around in disorder and left gaps that special forces could board. After a while a single klaxon blared and was followed by a huge blowhorn, the bullish sound cascading across the seas. The message soon followed:

"Allanean Anti-Business Vessel Glory:

We understand your terms but we must inform you that per corporate policy, we may not abandon a vessel during delivery and we may not surrender it to an anti-business force. What we suggest is you accept, as captain ocf your vessel, our offer of $15,000 dollars and fifteen percent to submit your staff to us as cargo. We may then discuss how best to claim the rest of your crew as cargo, with an extra five percent profit in it for you should you hand over the Glory. Failing this, we must inform you that we will defend this ship against any boarding party. If you do choose your method, rest assured Dark Waters Incorporated will ensure the proper and safe harvest of the deceased special forces for their organs before they expire.

We thank you for your continiued cooperation in this endeavor and wish you the best of health in any situation.

Corporate Officer 13th Class Samantha Charles
CEO of Abundant Joy"

[Allanea]

Aboard the FKS Glory

For a few moments, the Admiral looked somewhat surprised in the direction of the enemy ship. Literally now a slaver whose ship likely weighed a fifth of his own had demanded his surrender. At this level, it was impossible for Admiral Baker to even be angry with this woman, in fact he felt a strange respect for her bravery.

After a moment, he replied, typing out a written answer this time.

Pathetic slaver creatures!

You have refused our offer of surrender. This is a slight disappointment to me, after all you understand I would prefer not to risk your cargo. However, as you understand I hope, this is somewhat balanced out - if not completely - by the fact I, and my men, will have the pleasure of violently, violently killing all of your crew.

The Admiral paused for a moment. On one of the computer screens in front of him, he could see several red dots, designating friendly - Allanean and Animarnain vessels - approaching the slaver ship. His own carrier was steaming fast towards the enemy ship, and two more escort vessels would be appearing far on the horizon. Helicopters were already spooling up their main rotors both aboard the carrier and hte support ships, preparing to carry the first wave of boarding teams towards the slaver vessels.

As he looked up, he could see the Abundant Joy on the horizon, through the front bridge windows. With every minute, the carrier was drawing closer and closer. Perhaps even the slavers would be foolish enough to allow a direct boarding action.

Perhaps.

In a sum: you have rejected surrender and life, and have now chosen to fight to the death for slavery. We will grant your wish.

Minutes later, two more Allanean aircraft passed over the slave ship, autocannon clattering as they strafed the ship’s superstructure.

It had begun.

[Dark Waters Inc]

The Allanean message was received with concern by the CEO of the Abundant Joy. It seemed in this day and age a woman couldn't conduct business without sexist Allanean men running rampart al over your hard work. It was just like them to think so violently and chauvinistically towards their better halves. Oh well. Some thing simply could not be helped in the larger scheme of life and one of those things was the simple-minded Allanean. She crumpled the teletype paper that had the message and tossed it into a trashbin. She sighed and then nodded towards her CFO.

"Samuel, do we have everything we need for this? I admit that I didn't expect an aircraft carrier. Whatever we have in that hold- is it good? I hope that Black Fog Industrial will compensate me for this," she replied roughly., sipping her coffee. Her CFO, a middle-aged man with brown hair and even browner eyes, looked out at the sea with a blank expression. Hopelessness? No. No. Worse than that. Acceptance. He shook it off and smiled at his CEO. It was fun being in the know and being the only one in the know. Even the poor sap charged with detonation down below only knew one part of the puzzle and the CEO of the Abundant Joy didn't know anything. She didn't know who she really worked for or what was about to happen. The CFO did. A bit of terminal illness and a hatred of Allanea was all he needed to be recruited for this mission.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'd just focus on the task at hand. We're gonna get boarded. All the mercenaries down below are ready for those Allanean pricks to get on board. I assume our security force topside will get clean sweeped by the Allanean special forces, but once they do board and their transports away, we'll smash them. Smash them until I say so, anyway." He replied, nodding all the while. She frowned.

"Until I give the order. I'm the CEO."

"Of course you are, my apologies."

*****************************************

"PREPARE FOR BOARDING!"
The klaxons rained down with sound as the Allanean jets did fierce autocannon fire. They missed the bridge but did kill a score of technicians and communication officers in the suite right below, starting a small fire. The captain and crew retreated into the inner panic room and backup bridge as security forces topside moved around like ants. A few anti-air missiles were fired up at the jets, more to buzz and annoy than anything else. They didn't expect much out of that counter-attack but if it got the Allaneans closer to actually boarding they would be pleased. More than sixty security personnel were scattered topside, still leaving those same old gaps. Down below, the mercenaries had shuffled to four different holds near exits. The klaxons stopped- the men loaded and locked. Once the klaxons began again, that was the signal. All they needed were some Allaneans to kill.

[Allanea]

From the Allanean carrier and destroyers, six helicopters were launched. Two were navalized KA-52s, others were Mi-17 helicopters. The Navy being lesser funded than the ground forces, it simplu could not afford the latest and best Lyran Arms equipment.

Nevertheless, these would still work, or at least so the Allaneans hoped. They began to fire their rocket pods and automatic cannon, letting looze of hundreds of unguided projectiles. The plan - as such - was simple - put as many small, yet lethal explosions around the slavers as possible, and make their life hell.

As little of it as remained, that is.

[Dark Waters Inc]

The Allanean plan was not without its hopes and dreams as well as its successes. More than a few security personnel were killed, but more had managed to fall into special safe zones, protected armored centers on top. Most of the time, cargo would be placed there, safe from attack. This time each slot worked well to save a few security forces. The explosions rang across the ship like a troubled drum beat, pockmarking the armoured vessel. After the pass, six anti-air rockets were fired by MANPADS on the vessel at the helicopters, hopefully taking some down. Despite all of that, the Blue Whale soldiered on. In the bridge, the Captain nodded to her communications officer. The Allaneans still weren't pushing towards trying to take the ship. Time to give them the bait.

Moments later, a weird static filled the airwaves that could be reached and grabbed by all sides. In all honesty it was a trussed up recording of a slave revolt during another attack, but it was saved for just this situation. Worked on perfectly, it sounded like a transmission that because of damaged communications was getting out:

“Slippery Pete, this is Abundant Joy. Anti-Business Vessel, identified as Glory, has commenced combat operations. ABV Glory attack, heavy damage to security forces. Pull-” heavy static, sound of gunfire from a mixed recording of a guard in the lower deck, “-Slippery Pete, Abundant Joy- cargo revolt in lower deck! Communication breakdown, damage to the bridg-”

The recording then became static-filled once more, this time focusing on the actual revolt as if the communications on the ship had broken done.
“DEATH TO THE VILE LARD! HURRAH!”
Gunfire and the sound of grenades and screaming.
“Get back into- no!” The guard yelled before the muffled sounds of a dozen Marshite 'slaves' overrunning him and beating him to death crushed the rest of the recording.
“Brothers and sisters, upon them like a wave!” A female voice yelled. “Hurrah! DEATH TO THE SLAVER!” was the response as the sound of twisting metal and gunshots followed.
“This is CEO Samantha Charles. All security teams, pull back from cargo deck. Institute procedure 13-A. Recover the cargo post-gas and we'll write it off and refund Ralkovia. Cease all communications on this channel,” She said and the communications cut off.

[Allanea]

The response, of course, was obvious.

The Allaneans accelerated their plan. Cargo helicopters, taking off from several of the ships, flew now towards the DWI vessel. Each of them was filled with boarding team members. As the helicopters were airborne, the men checked their weapons for one last time, tested the sharpness of their combat knives and yanked on the charging handles of their rifles.

As the helicopters approached their targets, their onboard weaponry blazed alive. Anti-tank guided missiles were fired towards various important-looking structures along the deck, and machineguns strafed its surface for one last time, and then, finally, the helicopters began to approach, hovering over the deck for the Allaneans to rappel down to the deck.