Depths of Space:Galaxy Reborn (FT/Open/IC)

by **Kraicia** » Wed May 09, 2018 10:42 pm

Korhal IVV wrote:-snip-

Southern Scutum-Centaurus Arm
South of the Charter of the Holt
HLHFS Elsa
(Holtland Heavenfleetship - Elsa)
(Returning to the Fleet)

-(Disclaimer: Speech is in Pure Kraician English)-

"Dar fir sciip vir." Stessel continued to the morse code operator, relaying his findings to Lesser Admiral Howard Wallace Jorgenson on board the galleon, HLHFS Van Ruller the Lawgiver.

Stessel was not only infuriated that a peaceful resolution could be compromised between the two factions with the Holtlandic ships, but now he was unsure which side the Charter of the Holt should side with. Both these 'Talarians' and this 'Ascendancy' were at war with each other, and the Charter of the Holt now found themselves in the crosshairs of both sides on accident. So far, Stessel's report gave Admiral Howards equally troubling decisions - though it was only because of the use of morse code that Stessel and Howard's worries were filtered and suppressed until they met in person.

"En? Du er sicher?" Howard's words relayed back in morse code, printed on the paper ticker tape.

"Ja. Dar Tariansciphr vir Murasame, Tirion, Stellas, an Corvidae."

"An dar Uberlegenheitsciphr?"

"Langtmange, Flottfuhrer. Vi nat var in staat bringe das names."

Once Stessel made that reply, and his words were relayed onto morse code as usual, silence immediately ensued moments after the operator typed down the last letter. Stessel knew Howard well enough to know that he was a commander who took the time to analyze a situation and then make his decision. But Howard's silence persisted to more than five minutes, which by then was when HLHFS Elsa was halfway home to the other escorts ships and HLHFS Van Ruller the Lawgiver.

By now, the crews of HLHFS Elsa were slowly reeling in the solar sail as the sloop grew closer and closer; however, just as Stessel was about to relieve the operator and head back to his desk, the ticker tape machine came to life again. Howard was back on the line, but what he delivered next seemed out of the ordinary:

-.-. .- .--. - .- .. -. / ... - . ... ... . .-.. --..-- / - .... . / - .- .-.. .- .-. .. .- -. ... / .- .-. . / .... .- .. .-.. .. -. --. / -.-- --- ..- / .- --. .- .. -. .-.-.- / .--. .. -.-. -.- / ..- .--. .-.-.-

Right away, the operator at his station read the message quickly before Stessel could have a chance to tell what was going on. Immediately upon reading the message, the operator relayed the translation to the captain standing next to him, "Flottmeister, de er Hovard. He angriben er for dar Tarianhr."

"Gan pa." Stessel said with a curt nod, allowing the morse code operator to signal the switchboard operators to patch back to the Talarians. And just moments later, upon patching back to an open line with the Talarians, their message came through:

..-. --- .-. --. .. ...- . / - .... . / .. -. - . .-. .-. ..- .--. - .. --- -. --..-- / -.-. .- .--. - .- .. -. / ... - . ... ... . .-.. .-.-.- / .-- . / .... --- .--. . / .-- . / -- .- -.-- / -.-. --- -. - .. -. ..- . / --- ..- .-. / -.. .. .--. .-.. --- -- .- - .. -.-. / . -. -.. . .- ...- --- ..- .-. / -. . -..- - / - .. -- . .-.-.- / - .... . / -.. .-. . .- -.. -. --- ..- --. .... - / -.- --- ..- - . - ... ..- .--- -.-- ..- / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -.-. --- -. - .- -.-. - / -.-- --- ..- / ... .... --- .-. - .-.. -.-- .-.-.- / - .... . -.-- / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -... . / - .... . / --- -. . ... / - --- / .. -. - . .-. -.-. . -.. . / .. -. / -... . .... .- .-.. ..-. / --- ..-. / - .... . / - . -.-. .... -. --- -.-. .-. .- -.-. -.-- .-.-.-

Letting the morse code read the ticker tape message, Stessel was relieved but cautious at the same time when the message was read to him. While the Talarians have handled the threat, which was the relief, the truly hard part about the message was the fact that the Talarians were bringing in one of their dreadnoughts. Not that Stessel had much to fear about their dreadnought, other than the size, armament, and armor disadvantages, but being to hailed by their dreadnought in a little bit was somewhat unsettling.

The largest ship among the Zillion exploration fleet, HLHFS Van Ruller the Lawgiver, was the biggest vessel to begin with on the Zillion side; however, HLHFS Van Ruller didn't have the big guns and armor unlike the frigates, Man-o-Wars (Zillion/Charter equivalent to the battleships), and Ships-of-the-Line (Zillion/Charter equivalent to the dreadnought). As a galleon, HLHFS Van Ruller the Lawgiver was meant to haul people and freight; massive troop carrier and freighter in wartime, while a massive cargo ship in peacetime and a flagship in exploration fleets. It was ten ships of the Charter against the Talarian's dreadnought and the other ships out there; however, the Zillions were not looking for war with another alien race they hardly knew about.

But that didn't meant that Stessel would remain largely suspicion to which side to pick. So to say that he was conflicted was sadly accurate and correct, indicated especially when some of the other officers heard the message and gathered back to Stessel for any other orders from him. Frankly, this was a hard decision to make for Stessel, especially since he knew that this diplomatic meeting with another alien species meant choosing a side; he was either going to make some enemies for the Charter while making friends for them on the other hand.

For now, he had to return to the fleet, hopefully to relay his findings to Lesser Admiral Howard W. Jorgenson. And if the battle concludes soon, and especially if the two combatants would stop shooting each other, a docking would be possible some way or another. Being a mechanical machine race, the Zillions did not have hyperadvanced AIs and supercomputers to run a quick analyse upon other ships, so they had to meet in person with any other alien species they encounter as peaceful explorers. So until the battle whined down, Stessel could hold off any reply until the Talarians have dealt with their nemesis...

by **Tysklandia** » Sun May 13, 2018 9:37 am

WIP - Needs spellcheck... But I kinda need this dropped so people can continue.

Ithalian Empire wrote:
Sho'te She'ttel thought on the words that General Revan had just shared with him. The Ostians had been nothing more than one of many human splinter nations, this one just being one of two that shared a boarder. They had been considered a non threat to the greater security of the Commonwealth by Sho'tes father and grandfather, however if there was a sizable Tagali presence within the small nation, than they would have to be dealt with.

"I mean no insult when I saw that what is often on paper is only useful for wiping ones rear. We are not taking into account several factors. The Tagali are separated from there Ostian allies. The Ostians themselves may be acomplished warriors, but the would be no match form a combined invasion, Commonwealth forces from the north and human forces from the south. We than have one true threat in this war, the Tagali themselves. An invasion of the Empire would be foolish, as you have said, we no nothing of there force distribution. However, we may not need to initiate an invasion.

The Tagali are an aggressive race, thousands of years of war have done nothing to temper this. The defeat your race inflicted upon them has only served to harden there hatred of you. They will attack first. There is no debating that. When this happens we must meet them, stall there assault and grind them down in a defensive war. The Commonwealth has four Rapid Response Fleets, these fleets consist of 50 ships of war, there tenders and troops for ground operations. One of these fleets will assist in the invasion of Ostian territory, attacking from across the Commonwealth border, two other will be sent south to aid your forces in holding off the Tagali main assault.

It will take time for the rest of the Commonwealths naval and ground forces to mobilize, but be assured we do not intend to do this war in any half measure. We have no option other than victory, defeat will not be a subject this coalition of free peoples will contemplate."

Revan nodded, turning to the galactic display that slowly turned to slowly display the incomming messages and ship movements known to the confederacy.

"The Confederacy will await your arrival, although I fear the war will be ongoing by the time your forces arrive. The Alexander is large enough to act as a Liason base to coordinate our efforts. I would suggest deploying intelligence officers aboard this ship, to allow for clean communication between our forces for the war to come... Now, let me share what knowledge we have of the Ostian positions, perhaps it will aid in choosing a benificial avenue of attack..."

With that, General Revan focussed the display on Ostia itself, sharing snippits of Confederate Intelligence of the Ostian defenses and fleet compositions, to aid in the Emperor in deciding where he could best deploy his forces.

*
May, 2599
Confederate Inner-colonies
System ARK 388 – Orbit of Hynmar

The prisoners would have been in their makeshift prison for days turning into weeks now... Apparently their captors were bringing them a fair ways into the Confederacy... Food and water was dispensed according to their wishes and void suit wearing medical personel performed the neccesary efforts to arrange proper food standards for the alien beings trapped in their Hanger.

One day all personel left the hanger, giving no reason as to why. A few minutes later, a shock would shudder througout hanger accompanied with the groaning of metal. The air would begin to shift as trained ship personel would realise air pressure was being equalised with something on the other side. With little warning, the hanger bay loading doors, would rumble open in layers, as meter upon meter of layered armor shifted away to show a vast corridor that would normally allow the ship to ship transit of cargo, but now seemed to be a arlock-passage for the prisoners to utilize.

An AI gave instructions through the Intercom in their language, detailing that they had arrived at their detention facility and individiual interrogation would begin as soon as they had settled in...

For the prisoners it simply seemed they were transfering to one steel cage to the next, a distinct lack of windows and the presence of artificial gravity made it hard to guess where they were, be it a base, a station or another ship. A lack of guards on their path seemed curious as the AI simply directed everyone to a cellblock on the other side of the Airlock, where everyone was to pick an individual cell that closed automatically upon entry. Such a cell was somewhat spartan, be it a decent sized bed, access to water and basic toilets within the windowless steel cages. Even the doors lacked any window of any kind, atleast one visible to the eye.

Now, it remained to be seen if their captives would follow Cleopatra her directives, but it seemed obvious they had few other options.

Imperialisium wrote:Saepheron
Confederate Mining Colony: Noflheim
Edges of CIC space

The Saepheron exited Slipspace approximately 1.3 million kilometers outside of planetary orbit. Just outside of the planets gravitational pull at a cruising speed of .15c. The blackness of the void would be disturbed by the tear in reality that would foment the massive warship back into real space. Lightning bolts of ethereal power cascaded from the tear and danced about the ship in a spectacular lightshow for several seconds. Until the Slipspace portal vanished just as it had appeared. The ship would have the same peculiar anomalies like the Mining convoy had picked up. Strange energy readings distorting or bouncing back radar but messing with scanning attempts to discern what the vessel is or whom it belongs too.

The majestic vessel swung itself in a slow arc as if following an expanded version of the planets equator. Save it was over a million miles from the planet and not even noticeable to the naked eye.

Bridge

"Shipmaster." said the the ships Tactical Officer. "We have multiple contacts around the planet in orbit. Signals and material compositions match those of the convoy we stumbled across. Waiting for signatures from the ground to bound back." Valon Ramer'ion nodded and pressed a flickering green rune on the central bridge hololith. Once more a 3D rendering of the star system came into view. Poping into existance before Valon. Its descriptions and scrolling information increasing as the ships sensoria received more and more information.

"Transit time?" inquired Valon. An Ensign from the Navigation bank spoke without looking at his commanding officer. "Eight Solar days, six hours, two minutes and twenty-nine seconds. Marked." Valon raised his eyebrows, "So slow. Lack of accurate star charts I assume?"

"Yes Shipmaster. That and lack of properly mapped Slipspace routes between systems increased time by a factor of two." Valon shrugged and turned his face back to the map of the system.

May, 2599
Noflheim - System XTP-887 - Confederate north-eastern frontier

The Foreign Cruiser would exit warp towards what would seem to be a prepared colony. Noflheim had been keeping a close eye on nearby warp activity since the incident a few weeks ago. Due to that, the scanners of Noflheim its orbital station caught the approaching signature well before its arrival.

This allowed the defense forces the critical time to board their frigates, that had still been recieving their final repairs from the Incident itself. The carrier, the ICS Uran remained in dock as its compliment had been decimated properly from the earlier Incident.

Several smaller freighters seemed to be detaching from the station and fleeting warp signatures would tell the tale that several ships had already left the system. An evacuation, it would seem.

The two frigates, 580 meter long boxy-esque frames that seemed covered with railgun and missile pods floated near Noflheim station, itself home to several larger turrets and missile emplacements.

Encrypted FTL Communication burtst seemed to appear with high frequency from the ships, to the station and somewhere out of system. But as soon as the foreign ship established its orbit, did the Noflheim defense forces cease their silence and send a large data-burst to the still unidentified foreign ship.

It contained a basic first contact package, enough for any basic AI to comprehend and create a basic translation package in moments. After that followed a more direct message in the form of a voice transmission.

"You have trespassed on sovereign Confederate territory. Maintain current distance, deactivate weapon systems and Identify yourself."

The calm of the Noflheim defense was but a thin veil beneath the slight panick aboard the Station and its population. The foreign ship was very likely the same ship that had attacked a convoy nearby and Noflheim didn't have the capacity to fight off decently armed cruisers without a regional patrol. The only chance they had, was the Battlecruiser Nachtwacht, which had been barreling towards Noflheim as soon as the enemy warp signature was creeping closer to the only proper colony in the sector. But the Nachtwacht had an ETA of up to 10 hours still, which had sparked the colony to began full scale evacuation efforts.

by **Tagali Federation** » Mon May 14, 2018 2:06 pm

Ostian Confederate War - Operation Liberator - Entente Expeditionary Force
00:00:00:00:00:00
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

In conjunction with their Confederate Allies, The Entente Expeditionary Force, made up of 500 ships from the Entente's 5th and 6th Fleets, charged into Ostian Space alongside the CIC forces. Already, smaller detachments had begun to engage Ostian patrols and military outposts in an attempt to keep them from regrouping for a counter attack. Skirmishes and battles were beginning to light up across the border systems, but these would be minor compared to the confrontation soon to happen.

Joining the CIC's Battlegroup Alpha, The Entente's own Task Force Alpha was made up of 50 vessels of varying designations. At the head of the collection of Frigates, Cruisers, Battle Cruisers, and Carriers, were two of the Entente's Dreadnoughts, the Montezuma and the Caesar. Normally, such massive and powerful vessels would be distributed across the front, but due to the presence of a Tagali Super Dreadnought thought to be in the AO, the Coalition forces would need all the firepower the could get to bring down such a behemoth. Ahead of the Task Force were Pathfinders, modified Entente Interceptors designed to scout ahead of a main force, were dispatched a few hours ahead of the task force to gain intel on what they would be encountering. As the Pathfinders entered the system, they relayed their information back to the Task Force and Battlegroup Alpha, and from there, the rest of the invasion fleet.

by **Korhal IVV** » Mon May 14, 2018 9:30 pm

As the Zillions drifted farther away from the battlefield, they would soon enough recieve a Morse code transmission, one that would read as…

“Greetings, Zillions of the Holt Charter. This is the Hayajiro Class Dreadnought, Koutetsujyu. I am Commodore Alariel Seeroth, Sector 26 commander of the 67th Talarian Legion, the White Claws. I have been tasked with initiating diplomatic relations with you, a newfound neighbour, by both the Talarian Technocracy and the captain you spoke with earlier, Chihaya Miyazaki of the Murasame. In this message are the coordinates where we are to rendevous for first contact. Our friends out there will surely get out of there unbloodied, so no worries for them.

May the winds of fate smile upon us.”

Meanwhile, the four ships continued their fight, engaging in a retreating formation as their turrets faced back towards the enemy Ascendancy ships, firing back as they attempted to flee from the combat zone. The Corvidae’s starboard section was wracked by ionic torpedoes, and one of the Tirion’s turrets was rendered inoperable by a plasma torpedo.

by **Imperialisium** » Tue May 15, 2018 8:59 am

Deep Space
May 31st, 2599

The Naval Security troops had moved to the door, placing them on the other side of the only barrier to the barricaded crew, and waited. A couple minutes later a pair of armor clad crew memers bearing orange stripes, arrows, and circles on their armor appeared. Naval Engineers, ready for combat as well, as they bore weapons mag-locked to their thighs. One hefted a rectangular prism like device. A plasma cutter. The other activated a small scanner and activiated a computational device. "We have movement on the other side sir. Down the hallway it seems. Surviving crew my guess by their heat signatures." Aro frowned and spoke into his coms. "Shipmaster. We got live crew in here. How do you wish to proceed?"

The reply came back after a terse few minutes, "Send a drone." Aro nodded and looked to the engineers visors, "cut a small hole, we're sending a drone in to make contact." The engineers nodded and thumbed a red rune on the cutter's back handles. The hiss of releasing gas and the bright glow of melting material appeared as the plasma cutter began to metaphorically saw its way through the alloy of the doors. The whole process took about three minutes and the engineer backed away. Aro pulled out a small spherical device and tossed it through the small hole. It clanged to the ground once and rolled. A blue light flickered inside it a second later. The spherical device began to hover and move down the hall. Meanwhile Aro checked his wrist panel and began to type in a series of commands. The drone echoing out the words Aro typed.

Epizóntes. Ĉi tiu estas la Imperi'alis Navis. Vi havas kvin minutojn gia na apantísete. Ĉi tiu ploío échei vretheí érimo. Epizóntes. Ĉi tiu estas la Imperi'alis Navis. Vi havas kvin minutojn gia na apantísete. Ĉi tiu ploío échei vretheí érimo.
Message Repeats

by **Legatia** » Tue May 15, 2018 7:29 pm

Federal Republic of Corundum
Task Group SB-22, Corundan Federal Navy
Aboard the Vespasius-class light cruiser Arcturus, CL-909
Sabria

Within the hour the operation from orbit was complete. A piece of shorn metal, an obvious gaping round cut from it from the impact of a MAC round, bounced off the hull of the Arcturus as it moved into orbit. The broadsides were still dealing off the rest of the V'anoci ships, but the pathway for the ground troops was complete.

The group released hundreds of its dropships, deploying into the atmosphere and heading right into the streets. In Gamine the fighting was bloody- soldiers were vaporized some times more often than not. The casualties ramped up to become higher than was expected, but the city was finally retaken from the V'anoci with blood and sweat.

Within thirty minutes, fire reigned from the sky as two additional destroyers burned into the air above Gamine. What was left of the beleaguered population looked up in awe as the enormous cutters came into view over the city, both offering tungsten slugs to the hovering slaughter ship. The lightly armed vessel, without its air complement to defend it, took the full brunt of the slugs as they rocked the ship. Gamine stared at the plasmatic plumes as the ship attempted to make its escape, the destroyers holding from engaging with their MAC rounds again. As the ship began to make its ascent, Hotpan, fresh from Camatus Base, launched two Archer missiles. The slaughter ship knocked one out, but the second connected and a blinding explosion rocked it, shockwaves rumbling through the already wrecked city as the capital weapon devastated the ship. The warpdrives were crippled, and the ship was already beginning to sink as the Destinire and Echelon came beside it and rocked the ship with a point blank salvo of Revenant rockets that tore through what was left of the slaughter ship. Human and Vanoc alike were given an equal grave by cremation as high explosive fire tore through the devastated ship, the hulking remains slamming into the forested hillsides surrounding Gamine as the three who had engaged it let it come to rest silently in the hillsides.

There was no cheering, no joyous liberation, despite the banishment of a hell on earth. Sabria burned, the already fledgling colony world devastated by the genocide enacted upon it. Destroyers, as if offering their cloak of security, performed slow, low-altitude flyovers of the cityscape to remind the battered citizens that they were there. It offered them shelter, but not the warmth they had once had.

The father ripped from his family, the son from his mother. The husband from the embrace of a wife, the sister from the family gathering. Children, elderly, and adults were not spared from the raid. Plumes of smoke still rose from the city, but all they had to look forward to was rebuilding. Covering the hole that had been made.

Lieutenant Emilia Aubergine was one of the fortunate or perhaps the unfortunate as one would see it. She stood at the ruined park of Gamine where days earlier the PDF had died in mass to defend those of the city who had managed to escape. Bodies, half consumed and half battered, human and Vanoc, lie still and cold as a dust-filled breeze swept the stony streets of the vacant city. Beside her stood her men- those who would bear this burden with her.

To her left and to her right, rifles raised high.Hers raised as well, she pointed towards the sky. A shot rang out, filled the air.. and faded, like the ghosts of Sabria, into the winds.

by **Vacif** » Tue May 15, 2018 7:44 pm

Paragon Station, Southern Sagitarius Arm
Velkha Sestra
Uammat Commune
May 24, 2559

She sat there in the simulated environment. Her name was Velkha Sestra, born on June 17th 2532. 5'7 brunette female, raised a lovely family of space ranchers, on the garden world of Atheni 4. After growing old enough, she caught a case of wanderlust and began travelling the stars before working for some non-descript space cargo freighter, where she works a dull nine-five job that pays the bills. She uses the money she earns to support her family, and to work up towards her retirement. She has a pet bird, and likes reading. That was the cover story at least. In truth she was a Meph. A being that could morph and impersonate any creature or object perfectly. The Commune had after absorbing countless life forms had grown very adept at creating a flushed out life story, though in her opinion some details were too real, or too absurd to think up and create. Some things you just couldn't make up. Was Velkha Sestra once a real person, or was she just a made up persona for the Commune to use? The thought that her person, her character once belonged to another living being kind of unnerved her. Made her question who was who. The soldiers, the spies, and the diplomats, anyone who worked in the upper echelons of the Commune hierarchy was perfectly fine with this, but she was just a simple transformation form fresh from the corpse of whatever she was conceived from. Maybe it'd grow on her with time? Her more senior colleagues seemed just fine with the possibility with being someone else, and it wasn't like she was doing anything wrong. She was just making an honest living, working for the betterment of society.

The Commune liked to keep it a secret but rumors always existed, and every rumour typically spawns from some grain of truth. After the last system was consumed during their Expanse for Knowledge some centuries ago, they scrubbed the Sagittarius Arm over to make sure that their shape shifting abilities remained concealed. After all, regardless of what happened they'd be known as monsters. One just literally. Why reveal their ace in the sleeve? It was be known as a conquering empire that genocided countless beings, or shape shifting monsters that consumed innumerable sapient creatures.

She sat there enjoying the human drink 'bubble tea' created some centuries ago by one of the variant humans on their home world. It perplexed her to think how such a species unknown just centuries ago could explode across the galaxy like they had. Perhaps Velkha, the real one knew the answer. She gazed up at the simulated bright blue sky. This station was built up to feel more homely for the humans conducting trade with the Commune, as such it had been tailored to meet their needs. Of course that's not to say other species weren't accommodated for, they were but this was remarkably suited for human life. As such many Meph took on the form and mannerisms of human beings. Human names, language, creature comforts so on. Even the name and architecture of the station was heavily influenced by human design. Paragon, it was human for "The perfect example of something". They hoped it would be the perfect example for commercial trade working out peacefully in the galaxy.

Her watch beeped, this meant one of two things. She had a call, or her break was over. Or both. Looking down at her wrist she found a text message calling her back to work at Port 44. Rising from the park bench she sucked up the rest of the cup's contents in a single go before tossing it into the nearby recycling bin. She strode out of the park and towards the station tram system which ran all through the rather large station. Port 44 wasn't her usual posting though, she was a cargo specialist for Port 17. Port 44 was used extensively for special goods and high security products. To take a normal cargo specialist there must have meant either she was trusted, or they really needed to load/unload some cargo. She didn't think much of it, she wasn't liked to the hive, she was just a simple drone on a need to know basis. She'd live and die for the collective.

It was a scant few minutes before Velkha arrived at Port 44's terminal. There stood a rather sizeable contingent of Sentries. Their rifles glowed red with pure intent to kill. After dismounting she was stopped and ordered to hand over identification which she happily provided. After a tense moment of silence, she was allowed access to the Port, though not without a security escort. As she strode towards the Port, a pair of towering Sentries marched in tandem behind her, analyzing her every move. Once at the airlock, she was stopped again for an identity check where she surrendered a DNA sample and her identification. Once again another tense pause before being allowed entrance. There she came face to face with what she had been called upon to unpack. A large UCSV Cargo Freighter lay on its side. Behind it a fiery metal trench. She gazed at the massive ship, not noticing an approaching trio of sentries.

"Velkha Sestra?" came a heavy baritone voice.

"Yes, I take it that." She pointed at the Commune Cargo Freighter. "Is why I am being called upon?"

"Affirmative. This way." That was all that needed to be said. She didn't need to know why that ship was here, or how it crashed, any important information regarding the cargo process would be provided and nothing else. She didn't need to know and she didn't want to. It made life easier for everyone, and even if she possessed an inquisitive mind she'd be simply stonewalled. They guided her to a group of weary looking civilian cargo specialists and their more collected military counterparts. There was an abnormal amount of people working on the ship. She didn't like it but she didn't have to. Hopefully everything would go off without a hitch and she'd be back in the park sipping tea and socking up artificial sun.

Paragon Station, Southern Sagitarius Arm
PARAGON STATION AUTOMATED WARNING SYSTEM
Uammat Commune
May 31, 2559

...
THIS IS AN AUTOMATED DISTRESS BEACON, ANY COMMUNE SECURITY FORCES PLEASE RESPOND
...
THIS IS A LEVEL 5 QUARANTINE, UAMMAT COMMUNE STATION PARAGON HAS SUSTAINED A CRITICAL POWER FAILURE AND IS UNDER THREAT BY UNKNOWN VARIABLE
...
ARTIFICIAL GRAVITY - OFFLINE
...
LIFE SUPPORT - EMERGENCY POWER
...
PRIMARY POWER GRID - OFFLINE
...
SECONDARY POWER GRID - OFFLINE
...
EMERGENCY POWER - ONLINE
...
STRUCTURAL STABILITY - STABLE
...
PRIMARY COMMUNICATIONS GIRD - OFFLINE
...
WEAPONS SYSTEMS - OFFLINE
...
CREW INTEGRITY - UNKNOWN
...
SECURITY FORCES - UNRESPONSIVE
...
CASUALTIES - UNKNOWN
...
THIS MESSAGE WILL REPEAT
...

by **Beiarusia** » Tue May 15, 2018 9:06 pm

UNITED CONFEDERACY of CISTERN
Ashaika Ren
City of Syrrus, Sy, Cistern, Sytomir
2559 (Earth Calendar)

Within the hour the city had capitulated with little resistance. The Symir, a culture of pacifists, were vastly ill-equipped to combat the alien invaders, their weapons primitive and ineffective against the thick armor of the battle-suits. Fighting was quickly made a non-option. They could only run, and hide, and pray to their gods that the nightmare would soon end. Temples and shrines were packed full of those seeking shelter. The marina was overflowing, an exodus to escape to the far-flung islands and townships just beyond the horizon. Smaller boats and yachts darting in-between the few commercial ships commandeered to assist in the evacuation.

Ashaika Ren had barely survived the suddenness of the unprovoked attack. Shrapnel had injured her arm, a minor flesh wound, sure, but a little bit to the left and she would have suffered a far worse fate. Shock had set in, a visceral numbness that blurred the goings-on of the situation, and she had to be guided by the hand by Tano to someplace safe.

The Council was scattered. Ianassa Keda was dead, killed indiscriminately for no reason, and the others may well have died, too.

"Where are we going?" asked Ren as the neared the marina.

Tano ducked down a less crowded alleyway. "Someplace safe. One of the smaller islands."

Ren stopped suddenly, pulling her hand free. Her mind struggled back into the reality that was now: she could hear the panicked shouts, taste the bitter smoke on the air, witnessed the black clouds marring a supremely blue sky. This wasn't supposed to be happening. "We can't go. We have to do something, not run away!"

Her servant — her friend — looked to her with worry in her eyes. Ren understood, that fighting was useless, futile, but to leave her people to their fates was something not even she could stand to do. Like it or not, she was Chancellor and it was her duty to do... something. She racked her brain for ideas. A plan. She wanted to help, but thinking it was easier than doing it. She was one person. Weak. Frail. Not even the Peacekeepers had been much help against the invaders.

An unexpected answer came from behind them. "Your position is symbolic, but it's worthless if you're dead."

Terasa Min, the researcher from the Observation Center. She was joined by two others. Ashaika Nora, near identical to Ren in physical appearance, the only noticeable difference being the slight difference in the styling of her hair. Standing next to her was Clawa Lu, a bloodied journalist holding a camera.

"We've already sent a message to the other cities," Min added, we being the researchers at the Observation Center. By now the entire planet would know, and the people would hide as best they could lest they suffer as Syrrus had today.

The remainder of the plan was simple. Ashaika Ren would be spirited away to someplace safe, the point being to use her as a figurehead once capable of responding to the attack, if capable — no telling when that may be — and in her place Ashaika Nora would stand-in as a decoy, and with luck the entirety of the Council would escape with the aliens none-the-wiser. Ren was opposed to allowing Nora sacrifice herself (the aliens had already proved to care little for the sanctity of life), but, in the end, there was little point in arguing. They were right. Dying would solve nothing. Living wasn't looking much better, but at least there would be hope. That was something they'd all need in abundance.

Ren, Tano, Min, and Lu departed for the marina, taking a small boat that could easily escape notice in the archipelago. Tano and Min were taking charge of the situation. Ren simply followed along like an obedient toddler. Lu documented everything with her camera, having captured the arrival and massacre on film.

Nora headed for the Council Tower, joined by a few others willing to act as decoys for when the aliens inevitable came knocking. The plan was hastily put together, and yet it had succeeded thus far, and maybe they would survive the encounter.

As the city burned, there was little optimism to be found in the Council Chambers.

by **Legatia** » Thu May 17, 2018 5:41 am

Federal Republic of Corundum
Office of Naval Intelligence, Corundan Federal Navy
Aboard the Gypsy-class stealth corvette Pillar White
Special Operations Group 9

From out of hyperspace, a small, sleek black vessel emerged, its silhouette cutting through the darkened space as it came to a drift. A man in heavy powered armor stood in the cockpit behind the pilot of the corvette as it came to a silent drift. Its corrective thrusters adjusted its velocity as the ship came into view of the station. Emergency lights were evident from the exterior, damage apparent from whatever fate it had suffered. The man in the cockpit, Lieutenant Francis Corbett, rested an armored elbow over the captain's chair as he steered the vessel.

"..How close can you get us?" The captain turned to answer the question, his face equally as serious as the man behind him. "Four kilometers. Any closer and we risk running to debris and stray weapons systems." The Lieutenant sighed- he expected this, halfway, but it was still not close enough for Pillar to respond quick enough if they needed it. "And you can't keep the gunship on in the hangar, either?"

"No, can't risk the thing getting nabbed or destroyed. We'll keep the engines hot for you." The Lieutenant sighed. They'd be on their own- but they weren't going in cold.

SOG/9 was a specialized task group trained for long-endurance and high-risk operations such as this one. They would be equipped with incredibly advanced powered armor that gave them strength and survivability even within what could be an incredibly hostile environment. SOG-9 was a seven man team- six, with the addition of a single dedicated ONI operative tasked with intelligence. Known only by the name 'Booker', the man bore the same armor as them, though the superficial appearance gave him a more sleek air as the rest of them despite the fact they were wearing a quarter the weight of a car on their backs.

* * *

"And he's the one who's taking command here? You.. outrank him, sir."

Corbett sighed, leaning back a glass of beer. "Yeah, but I don't out-clout him. He's got Operative status, none of us here do. So his word goes." The men about him sighed, glancing about the window as lightspeed flicked past them. "..So you lay down and take it?" The Lieutenant gave a long sigh, looking longingly towards the stars.

"..The Navy's been fucking me for the past four years, Truener. When you're in as long as me, you learn that you just gotta bite the pillow."

* * *

The thought grazed Corbett's mind as he stepped from the cockpit and into the readyroom. The other six were there- in various stages of priming and checking suit hydraulics and life supports, loading weapons, checking gear. Most of their weapons lay on the medium end of the firepower spectrum- Gauss rifles, light machine guns, shotguns, the like. One of his men bore an automatic grenade launcher, serving as the heavier option for the group.

"..Are we all set, here?" The Lieutenant questioned, to the unified nods of the group. Booker raised his helmet and secured it, locking it into place as his HUD secured. "Let's get to the launch bay."

Pillar's transports consisted of a single Merstratos transport, a small, light transport designed for smaller cargo and personnel, however it had little armor and no weapons systems. Taking up the bulk of the hangar bay was their larger Arstratos gunship,which had been modified with stealth ablative and a rescinding gun turret to lower its profile. The pilots, lounging inside, noted the entrance of the heavily armored operators and gave a nod. "..Strap in, gentlemen. Air taxi's off in two."

The rear hatch sealed, and the Arstratos' engines flared as it launched from the hangar bay of Pillar White, cruising through the debris before coming to the hangar bay. "Standby for entrance.." A localized energy pulse took down whatever barrier might have remained as the gunship came to a hover in the derelict hangar bay. The hum of its silenced engines, despite their quieting, filled the room as the rear bay unsealed again, dropping. "..Drop."

One, two, seven thuds hud the floor as the armored soldiers hit the ground. Their weapons raised, they flicked on lights and ventured further into the depths.

by **The Moscow Metro Red Line** » Fri May 18, 2018 5:37 pm

Deep Space
May 31st, 2599

The cutting of the door for three minutes danced on the nerves of the Ostian crewmen. The fact that it was a small hole was made and not taking down the whole door was another matter of concern. Luckily it was only one of the doors and as such a few crewmembers trained their weapons to the breached door. Questions flashed into the minds of the crewmen like: Are they cutting a small hole to use the vacuum of space to kill us off?, Maybe they are going to throw a grenade through the hole?, or Maybe they have some sort of visual device needed?.

When the hole finished, every crewmen tensed up at the glowing hole in the door. And then something was thrown in. "Grenade! Grenade!" One of the crew yelled and then proceeded to duck under his cover. One of the crew quickly ran up to the "grenade" to throw it into an empty bunkroom. But when the "grenade" began to hover and move, it startled the crew member who fell to the floor. One of the armed crew began firing with his SMG at the floating "grenade". He got off a burst which lasted a second before the Kriegschen Commander grabbed his smg.

"I told you, Hans. You hold your fire." He scolded. "Everyone hold your fire. If these intruders wanted us dead, they would have done so by now." The floating "grenade" began to speak something indescribable. "Someone get me a writing instrument and something to write on," the Kriegschen Commander ordered. Someone quickly ran into one of the rooms and gave the Commander what he had requested. Though the paper was facial tissue for humans. The Commander began drawing on the facial tissues, a simplified drawing but something to get the point across.

At around three minutes since the "grenade" flew in, the Kriegschen Commander walked up to the "grenade" and began slowly showing the drawings to the "grenade". One picture was a rough sketch of their ship. Another was the same ship but with lines coming out of its engines. The next was the same ship but with holes in it. The next was a picture of their ship with an arrow pointing to a house.

Imperial Palace - Nue Berlin - Ostia - Ostia System - Ostia Sector
May 26th, 2599

The realization that a war was occurring at the borders and the Occupied Zone was quick throughout the Imperium. By the morning in Ostia, everyone was glued to informal reports and alternative news sources about the developments of the war and the intrusion of the Confederate and the Entente forces. Surprisingly the government channels continued the regular scheduled programming and entertainment as if a war had not come at midnight. The OIC was playing its early morning exercise programs, cooking shows, and local ministries. It seemed as if everyone but the central government had known that a war was going on.

On the streets of Nue Berlin, only the government workers were going to work as everyone else was hooked onto the news. Listening to informal reports on the movements of Entente and of Confederate ships. Or rewatching clips of local populations at the borders talking about the incursion and the Ostian Navy's Border squadrons. Everyone had the same questions. Why was the Central Government silent? Why aren't they giving orders or even issuing a warning to its citizens? Where was the Emperor at this time?

Since the starting of hostilities, only a few government workers had been awakened to the crisis. The military had been put on full alert and the only Sector which had been mobilized was the Postdam Sector due to its strong military presence. Emperor Karl the Seventh was full aware of the crisis which his Imperium faced. Enemies at all sides. The first strike inflicted by the Confederates and the Entente. It was a perfect political victory for the Ostians, the Confederates being the aggressors, but the Ostian nation was still not prepared for war. Everyone should have been aware by now of the ongoing war. Emperor Karl the Seventh was gathering his thoughts as he prepared to address the Ostian Imperium.

At 10:00 am Ostia time, he spoke to his Imperium. Standing in front of the statue of his great predecessor, Emperor Karl the First at Imperial Square, he made his address to the nation. All channels of the Ostian Holographic-Network had been forced to his image. He was wearing a plain Ostian officer's uniform without any medals and ranking epaulettes. Around him were members of the Royal Guard in full armor and several citizens who had noticed his arrival to Imperial Square, formerly Colonial Square.

"Citizens and Subject peoples of the Ostian Imperium. This is your Emperor speaking. By now it has been realized that the military forces of the Confederate and the Entente Military have invaded our borders and began attacking our military installations, population centers, outposts, starbases, and other points of civilian and military infrastructure."

"The Confederate Ambassador arrived at our Embassy in the Entente mere minutes before the Confederate attacks began. Handing to our Ambassador their declaration of war. Without haste, our Ambassador began to rely the information back to us. But by the time it had reached us it was far too late. The Confederates began their surprise attack and had assaulted our borders."

"These attacks accompanied by that of their allies, the Entente and the New Earth Federation, have threatened our sovereignty. As I speak, our brave comrades of the Ostian Navy are selling their very lives to ensure that our nation can be defended. Ostian lives. Kriegschen lives. Schlange lives. Angelvolk lives. Do I need to say more?"

"We are surrounded by enemies. And our ally is far away. At this hour, it would be appropriate to think that our chances of victory seem slim given the head start of our enemies. True be told, such a thing is possible. Our enemies outnumber us. The Confederate Droid Army will march on our worlds. Entente politicians will flock to our cities promising freedom and equality. We face a real possibility of being defeated in these opening moments."

"Let us not bring our anger on the average Confederate or Entente soldier. They are mere servants to their governments. It is the duty of a soldier to obey his or her superior officers. It was the choice of their government to start this war on our nation. There was no "poll" or "vote" to see if any of them wanted a war. Their government forced them to such a position. Such is apparent in the nature of democratic governments. Pretending to work for the best interests of the people yet merely working for the self interests of a select few."

"But if the Entente and Confederate governments are so eager to liberate our nation from my oppression, then so be it. Easier it is for the confederates who can eagerly trade the lives of non-living beings for those of living ones. If this is the course they chose, they shall pay dearly for such an action. We shall stand firm against the storm of Entente and Confederate soldiers. Like a building in the storm they shall smash against us, with a great fury and gusto. But no strength at all. For we, the building, well-built and well-maintained, shall weather the storm. Standing firm and watching as their efforts merely splash upon us. We shall be drenched in the blood of our enemies. And we may be damaged. But we shall hold."

"We shall face the storm, face first! And when they finally run out of bodies to throw at us, they shall realize why the Imperium has never tasted defeat in over centuries! And their politicians shall shudder when Ostian troops along with our Tagali allies march across their borders to remove them from their corrupt rule!"

"Peoples of the Imperium! This will be our finest hour! This will be the war which will be talked about for centuries! A war which the galaxy shall know once and for all, the dominance and the supremacy of the Ostian ideal above all else! This is the time to be alive! Forward onto victory, peoples of the Imperium! Strength above all else!"

In unison the people who had gathered around the Emperor, now in the thousands, began to chant, "Strength above all else! Forward unto victory!" With this chant, the Emperor began to chant alongside them. The Central Government has responded and the war has officially begun for the Ostian nation.

Ostian Information Circulation (OIC) : OH-N
May 26th, 2599

After the Emperor's speech was broadcasted, the official government channels began changing their program to fit the apparent wartime conditions. Evacuation orders had been given to those living at the periphery of the Ostian Imperium. Videos of masses of patriotic Ostians were shown in front of recruiting stations for the military. Not only were humans, kriegschen and schlange in the crowds but also roteschen, toteschen, and angelvolk. Whether this was propaganda or reality, the point was that a surge in recruitment was happening this day.

A point of pride in the Ostian Military has been the fact that it is an exclusively volunteer army. Though the Emperor had the power to call a draft, it has never been used in Ostian history. This precedent has not changed nor will ever change so long as there are masses of Ostian citizens ready to enlist for the military. In fact there were times in which the Ostian Military had to deny recruits on the basis of their skills or their positions. If everyone was a soldier, there would be no one left to run the civilian infrastructure.

Several news reports began coming in. One of which was a meeting between Ostian diplomats and those of the Confederates and the Entente regarding practices during the war. Another was of Ostian ships moving towards the borders. Another of the announcement of the creation of the Ostian Southern Front Fleets.

by **Tagali Federation** » Wed May 23, 2018 3:40 pm

Free Traders Part 1

Turus System
Turus-III
Nerva's Den, Urvet District

Far away from the growing chaos of the Orion Arm, unclaimed by any of the major players of the Galaxy, was Turus-III, or as it was called by the local Hachkik people, "Ukraktesvashektak". It was a small unremarkable planet, once home to a thriving people and biosphere, now was a ever decaying wasteland, only saved by its discovery by Interstellar pirates 400 years ago, who brought along much needed supplies to keep the dwindling population afloat at the cost of becoming a safe haven for criminals and other outcasts from various peoples across the Galaxy. From Tagali personae non grata to talarian scoundrels, many had come to carve out a living on the arid world. They had come to this planet for different reasons. Some had come to start a new life among the riff raff of Turus-III. Others were only staying temporary, looking for a quick buck to get their next meal. It just so happened that the crew of a modified Antivarian Freighter, the Free Traders, were the latter.

"I never thought, I'd see a Goro in the flesh!" Hadir exclaimed, gawking at the alien creature like the Terran Tourist from Morocco that he was. "The only account anyone has of them in our corner of the Galaxy is the account of the Jalgari Lord Tetrargo over 300 years ago. It is said that their whole species hibernates for centuries before waking up and scouring the galaxy for resources before returning to breed and raise a new brood. After about a decade of this, most of them die and the new brood begins the cycle again." His crewmate, a Tagali Woman named Shejara, couldn't care less. She knew little about many of species that now surrounded herself and her crew mates. Those she could recognize, she wasn't too thrilled to be around either, like the group of Kente Marauders sitting at the other side of the bar from them. The Kente were one of the many species the Tagali had subjugated, and their subjugation and events afterward were particularly nasty. They were eyeing up Shejara, especially the one she presumed to be the leader, an older Kente boasting a Fenvarian pelt cloak a bandolier fashioned out of the jawbones of slain Tagali, fidgeting with a small blade in his hands. She could kill him alone with ease, but his four or so comrades she wasn't so sure of.

Shejara moved towards her Antivarian Captain, her hand placed firmly on the a Tagali made plasma pistol on her hip.

"Captain. Our Contact better show up soon. I don't believe we should stay here for much longer."

by **Turmenista** » Wed May 23, 2018 4:14 pm

EVENT CHAIN: ARKLIGHT

Freelands Administrative Offices, The Stratotower, Hub Habitat, Pleasuredome Station

Orbit of Coral 149, Einstein System, Sagittarius Sector | The Freelands
2599

__________________________________

“There remains only one… irksome issue that faces us in terms of Project Arklight’s progression, gentlemen…”

United Mining Conglomerate Chief Stone and his newly-promoted manager Samuel Lincoln leaned in to hear what the elusive head of Savant Bioelectronics had to say, eager to listen to what happened after his dramatic pause.

“...that issue being, as usual,” Savant sighed, resting his head on his palm as he propped his elbow on the table. “MacDougal is late.”

“Typical Dave,” Chief Stone scoffed at the incompetence of his colleague, the other “Triumvir” of the Freelands, in essence. David MacDougal was the CEO of the United Interspace Corporation, the largest of the three megacorporations (in terms of manpower and clout) that mutually controlled the Sagittarius Sector, the Outer Sectors, and had a hand in what went down on the massive Pleasuredome Station. Of course, he wasn’t an inconceivably smart genius like Mr. Savant or as street smart and dexterous as his longtime rival, Chief Brock Stone. He was.. well… the more dim-witted one of the trio. Nonetheless, he’d been crucial to the Freelands’ recent economic successes and shady trade deals, especially in getting those products that the billions of consumers and merchants in the anarcho-capitalist region of space were desperately craving for. The value of the Freelands’ Credit – even on the galactic scale –had never been higher, the budget surplus never larger, and the overall threat of piracy never lower, under his watchful rule, but that didn’t change the fact that the man responsible was an incompetent drunkard.

One that was, to make matters even worse for them, regularly late.

Mr. Savant huffed loudly. “What is this, Stone, his twelfth time being late on cycle?”

“Yeh, Sav. I think so. Fuckin' A."

"We might as well start without him."

“Uh.. Chief?” Lincoln spoke up suddenly after the two executives settled down. “Who’s this ‘Dave’ guy again?”

“Oh, right.” The colossal chocolate-skinned UMC head propped his feet up on the holotable as they waited. “Dave’s a… uh.. well.. Dave’s a nincompoop. He’s the guy who says he’ll be at the party in five minutes and arrives five hours later. There's probably a genius in his head somewhere with how big he made the Freeland Credit now, but it's probably the laziest genius I’ve ever known, that’s for sure. Ironic how the UIC’s doing so successful with him in charge.”

“Wait, I’m meeting with the head of the UIC—”

“I didn’t pay you talk, boy,” Chief Stone spoke in a thick rural drawl similar to cowboys of classic Earth films. “Best you keep your mouth open only when you’re talkin’ about Arklight.”

“Yes, Chief.”

“If we get to talking about it, that is,” Mr. Savant added from the other end of the holotable.

Almost as if on cue, one of the beaming pads located in a smaller, separate room towards the back of the secure office activated, as a column of golden light appeared above the glowing pad. The golden lights then materialized into a column of similarly-colored halos, and finally into the figure of the man they had been waiting for.

David MacDougal appeared from the shining silhouette, stepping out of the beaming room with an obviously faked look of confusion on his face. His pilot coveralls were once again tied around his waist as he stepped in to the office, taking off his aviator sunglasses. “Phew. I made it. For reference, uhhh, this room’s transporter code is 1107103-AD-EX, right? I almost beamed myself into the SB testing office with the other code..”

“...Yes.” Mr. Savant closed his eyes for a moment, suppressing his urge to strangle the man before opening them. He mumbled plainly, trying to be polite but also conveying his impatience quite well. “The code is 1107103-AD-EX, like you said. Also, you’re fifteen minutes late, and we've got many things to talk about. We’re starting now.”

“Fine, fine.”

The UIC head sat down onto one of the unoccupied seats at the long holotable as the lights in the room dimmed, the reinforced shutters over the windows automatically closing and bathing the room in darkness. Then, the table turned on. The blue grid-like surface briefly lit up the room as it booted up, then began to show a full-color projection of the Telstar System above the table, steadily zooming in on the planet of Columbia, practically a copy pasted version of the old Earth with the only differences being larger and more mountainous continents. Savant tapped the neural interface on his back for a moment then raised a hand, bringing Columbia further into focus — specifically, onto a medium-sized Habitat-like space station locked into place in the planet’s somewhat empty orbit:

“Thump.. Enterprises.” Savant clasped his hands together as he sighed the name of the owner of the station and, by extent, the planet and a good chunk of the system, with deep disgust. A small holographic portrait of the borderline geriatric and blonde haired business mogul appeared beside the projection of the planet. “Led by none other than the “entrepreneur” known as Daniel Thump. His goddamn name appears all over this bloody system like it's a goddamn advertisement on the Meganet. And he just... sits here, with his finger up his ass all day long, thinking he isn't drawing any attention to himself. Well, he sure as hell is now, gentlemen. He's got our attention, that's for sure. His... business — if you even want to call it one — is some microscopic subsidiary of some company you own under the UIC, Dave. He's also the prick that I'm going to be blowing up into a million pieces if he doesn't move his shit out of here, and snappy.”

Dave scratched his chin. “What about him is the problem here? Also, who exactly is he again?”

“Dave, this little insect is your creation.” Savant said nefariously, yet still very much infuriated at the same time. “The problem is that he's got a nice, juicy uninhabited moon under his control right around the corner of Telstar. I want that moon for target practice for the Arklight, Dave, and he’s not handing it over. While I wouldn't be opposed to the idea of taking Telstar from him with force, I feel that would be quite... costly, and would look bad to the press, of course. On the other hand, you might be a bit more… assertive to him, than our current efforts are.”

“Elaborate.” MacDougal leaned back in the chair.

“I’ll take it from here, Sav,” Chief Stone spoke up as Savant nodded, retreating back to the shadows at the head of the table. “Rewind a few years back from now. Listen here, you dunkass. For some perplexing reason, Dave, you made the unequivocally incompetent decision to help out a big chunk of those independent entrepreneurs lyin’ around in the Freelands that didn’t have anything else to do and just had a bunch of ships lyin’ around. The Outer Sector was just being explored and you saw a pretty profitable opportunity. You told ‘em that you’d pay for their transport there, provide ‘em food, and provide ‘em security. Correction: temporary security. While you coulda just done it yourself, it was… profitable. I guess. But then, you went completely against what you had said before and just gave this asshole the approval to colonize Columbia and take a few of Telstar’s moons under his little name."

He slammed his hand down hard onto the table to emphasize his frustration. "Newsflash, ya fuckin' dunce: Telstar is in the Sagittarius Sector, and how you just let him take Columbia is exactly the policy we do for the Outer Sector, not the Sagittarius Sector. Competition is dangerous, man, especially here in the Big Sag, and it'll throw off the balance of power that we’ve held so dearly in the Freelands for so long. We lose that power, everything falls apart, and it’ll truly become every man for themselves out there, and everything we built’ll go to shit in a mere hours. The NAP? Kaput. Pleasuredome Station? Bye bye to that too. You need to act. Try talking to him, get him to leave and resettle somewhere in the Outer Sector, and we won't have to use force. Or, just leave it alone and Sav can just erase him. Capisce?”

"Alright, okay. So, what can we do to stop him?"

“Bitch.. I just ex—”

"The question is, what can YOU do to stop him?" Savant suddenly interrupted Chief Stone. "I've tried to ask nicely. Believe me, I have. It’s almost as if he’s just ignoring all of my calls as of recent. Don't make me have to send in my combat androids for something as trivial as this, Dave. They're already on standby–I have one ship in the system, and I've got a line available."

Only one ship? Dave raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see a ship on the map, Sav. You sure you don’t need at least one of my Saggitarius Destroyers?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Pausing for a moment, Dave folded his arms around his waist, waited for about a minute or so, then began, sighing. "Alright. Fine. Fuck. Let's call him up, then. If he won't accept nicely... then, uh, you do your thing, Sav."

"That's the spirit, Dave." Savant grinned slyly, bringing up another holographic menu and inputting the communications details from the map into the system. “Now... you know what to say...”

Antioch Station, Thump Enterprises Headquarters

Orbit of Columbia, Telstar System, Sagittarius Sector | The Freelands
2599

__________________________________

There were three things that Daniel Thump—officially—did not like. The first was late employees. Thus far on cycle, his employees had done a stellar job in showing up to work on time, mainly out of fear for what the blonde haired CEO would've done to them. Most of them were also working on paid contracts so, lest they were late one day, a potential and highly-anticipated check of Credit Notes would be on their doorsteps soon ready to be cashed in for real Freelands Credits. Despite this, he still managed to have an adequate number of people hired and fired—usually, "firings" would mean sending people and/or aliens out packing in large droves in search of new jobs, but this cycle had brought him at least some respite in stressful times, as well as a fresh payment of the Freelands’ valuable cryptocurrency. The second thing that irked him were improperly filled-out forms, which was inconceivable, at best. Even a monkey in the Menagerie system—the Freelands’ go to place for animal and alien trafficking—could figure out that the instructions to fill them out were right at the top of the sheet. The third, and most aggravating of all, were late calls.

He hadn't missed a single call once this cycle, so the sensation of joy that he was feeling now was practically a new feeling to him. Due to his rather industrious and busy nature as a person and bureaucratic career choice, he almost never felt the feeling of what it was like to have absolutely no work due. To admit that he was feeling relaxed right now was practically heresy, but he reveled in the feeling while he still could, leaning back in his chair, propping his feet up against the table, and lighting a cigar he'd been saving for moments like these as he looked down upon the blue planet below.

The ringing chirp of a communicator nearby prompted him to take a long, dramatic puff and push down a button on his chair's armrest—he already knew who it was. Velma, his secretary from downstairs on the station. “Yes, Velma?”

"You've got a call on the line, Mr. Thump. It's a Mr. Stevens from Menagerie."

"Put him on."

The message came soon after she rung up the call. "Hey, Thump, it's me, your good old buddy, Mike! Great work this solar cycle, man, I think we've finally got that issue with Columbia in the bag. The colony's never been this prosperous in years and the whole damn company is doing extremely well! Props to you, man! Whaddya say about going down to the range at Menagerie later this week? Maybe shoot a few Space Bison with the RAW just in time for the migration! How's that sound, buddy?"

"Sounds great, Mike," Thump said. "I've got to let a few of my guys go on vacation, though. I'll be sure to get back with you."

The call ended, Thump prepared to return to his business, then the communicator began to chirp once more. Frustrated, Thump lowered his legs from the table, placed his cigar between his two fingers, and tapped on the button once more with his free hand. "What, Velma?"

"You've got another call on the line, Mr. Thump. It's from a.. David MacDougal, of the United Interspace Corporation. High priority encryption."

Oooooohhhh...... I’m fucked.

Thump nearly shat himself right then and there upon hearing the caller's name. MacDougal had been the one who'd essentially allowed him to colonize Columbia. MacDougal had been the guy who had funneled him the funds to do so, and MacDougal had been the one who had bought him the station, his guards, and, after a few drinks, his cigars.

So, him calling was either a sign that he was very much fucked, or... well, it was probably that. Still, two years was two years; maybe they could work things out later, perhaps?

“Er… put him o–”

But then the communicator came on by itself. The holoprojector in the back of his office came on at once as the lights dimmed, quickly filling the room with a blue glow as the holographic image of a meeting table appeared in the empty space used for projections. Four individuals sat at said table, including David, some rando he’d never seen before, and the executives of the UMC and SB, all staring at him collectively.

“Hi, Thump.” MacDougal waved from projection.

“Hey, man.” Thump waved back. “How’re you doing?”

“Good, and you?”

“I'm fine.”

“That’s good. Your company doing alright?”

“Mhm. Yours too?”

“Yeh. Never better.”

“....So, how can I help you fine executives today?” Thump was quickly growing nervous. If all of them were here now, then nothing good was bound to happen.

“Hey, uhh.. remember that time you and I got drunk and I said you could get Telstar?” MacDougal asked. “Well… we were just wondering… the Outer Sector’s still being explored, and we might need to set up a few bases since the rest of the Galaxy is collectively shitting on one another.. and Telstar’s in a pretty strategic location, man.. so..”

“No.”

He suddenly let out a sigh and broke character. “Okay. Fuck you. Listen, man. I know I said you could keep Columbia and all, but you've got to go. Now. It’s urgent. It’s like, ‘get up, take your shit, and leave right now’ levels of urgency. I'm going to be seizing Columbia and all Thump Enterprises assets in Telstar in about 30 seconds if you feel like sticking around, buddy. You wouldn't want me to pull the whole predatory pricing tactic on you, now would you?”

“Dave, you gave me this system—”

“Yeh, and now I want it back. 25 seconds.”

“This is bullshit, Dave. You said that I could keep this system, and now you want it back?! What for—actually, I don’t even need to know. You fuckin’ greedy-ass bureaucrats don’t even want to respect my rights, it seems–”

The portrait of Mr. Savant extended itself, enlarging dubiously in size as it stretched out from the projection and into Thump’s face. If it wasn't obvious to Thump already then it was now: the man was absolutely livid, and, despite his best efforts, negotiating with the head of Savant Bioelectronics—and all of the other Freelands executives— didn’t seem to be going as well as he thought it would.

“Well, it seems you all are backing away from your ‘ideals' which founded the Freelands, no?” Savant frowned upon hearing Thump's challenge. “No, you absolutely senile dunce. We are not backing away on anything. We’re simply here to take back territory that rightfully belongs to the United Interspace Corporation, and that you are not supposed to in the possession of.”

“Sorry, it's not for sale.”

“It doesn’t have to be for sale, Thump. I'm waiting.”

"Well, I'm making it for sale."

Savant furrowed his brow and angrily glared at the snobby bastard looking back at him from the hologram. His finger tapped down on his holographic control prompt display, effectively giving him control over the call. "You have two minutes to deliberate on this, or I'm coming in force," He declared, before putting the call on "MUTE", freezing both ends of the video display and muting the audio.

He then turned to his colleagues — specifically, MacDougal, who was looking all the more worried about the results as he sighed. "There goes my plan."

"Yes," Savant nodded. "There goes your plan. Now comes my plan."

As if on cue, a cruiser-sized warship materialized out of nowhere, both on the executives' holographic map and in person, much to the surprise of, well, everyone. A closer look at the ship indicated that it was covered in the same reactive stealth plating that made the stealthy AV-11 Attack VTOLs so effective, along with a beautifully decked out stealth and sensor suite to ensure that the ship remained invisible even in such proximity to a station like Antioch Station, which carried a large sensor array.

The rather angular warship glided like a knife through space silently, before quickly coming to a halt at a reasonably far away distance from the station, where the spinally-mounted Mass Accelerator Cannon onboard a typical Freelands starship would be effective whilst staying outside of range of weapons like ion cannons, which could easily eat through shields and hull alike.

He tapped his finger back onto the control prompt, unmuting the call and thawing the visual display. "Time's up, Thump. Like my ship?"

"That wasn't even two minutes — what ship?"

Thump then saw what he was referring to, and braced for impact.

Four smaller, black objects broke off from the larger ship, accelerating towards Antioch Station at alarming speeds with bright blue lights emanating from presumably exhaust ports: MACER-class guided torpedoes. They split up, each individually targeting different sections of the station before spiraling towards their targets, hitting them all at different times. One by one, he began to lose the station: first, the comms were severed, separating him from any sort of backup on the ground, whilst the recreation habitat, administrative offices, and hangar were all forcefully flushed out into the vacuum as the torpedoes split open holes in the station.

He was just about to get up and leave when he stopped and stared at the ship turning to prepare a broadside, a weapon appearing forth from a sealed compartment in its sleek hull. Its twin barrels glowed blue for a moment before a projectile slammed into the rear of the station sending a terrible shudder throughout its entirety, and notably tipping the station upwards.

Thump ran out of his office, looking to make it to the escape pod that he had reserved for himself near his quarters. The hallway he was sprinting out of then gave way to open space as a blue, red, and orange fireball tore out the end of the hallway, revealing the blue planet of Columbia below him. Thankfully, however, the airlocks and bulkheads sealed automatically, preventing him from being sucked out and dying a cold death in the vacuum of space.

In that time, Thump also realized that he was trapped: without an escape pod or means to get to the rest of the station, all it came down to now was either being eviscerated by the ship outside, or burning up along with the rest of the station and splashing down onto Columbia. Hard. Both outcomes were, inevitably, going to end with him dying."

Savant's voice came back in the office, even after the feed was disconnected. The SB executive chuckled mockingly at him, as the ship reeled away to seemingly leave the system. "I hope you liked the demo of my new little toy, Thump. These are the Pulsar-class cruisers. I had one in the system all this time, and you didn't seem to notice it. I guess we can both say that they work like a charm, hm?"

Thump gritted his teeth. "You aren't getting away with this, you corrupt bastard—"

"Oh, but I am. You chose the wrong group of people to fuck with today, Thump, and now, you're going to pay the price for not coming along nicely. Nobody will remember you, your company will cease to exist, and everyone related to it will be wiped away instantly, like a clean slate. Had you chosen to come along nice with us, you could've kept Antioch Station, kept Columbia, and all of your belongings and friends and people, but no, you wanted to put a station that wasn't yours up for sale. We tried to be nice, now it's time for us to be mean. I think we all know what happens to people who try and challenge our little harmony here in the Freelands, Thump. If you forgot, I'm about to show it to you. I'd like to introduce you to someone who's been working on something. I think you'll be excited to see what it is."

Then the voice changed over, to a much younger and more serious voice, belonging presumably to the one random person who wasn't a Freelands executive from that holo-meeting. He cleared his throat before talking. "Evening, Mr. Thump. My name is Samuel Lincoln, General manager for the UMC operations in Einstein, nuclear engineer, and head of Project Arklight."

Outside, Thump noticed several warp signatures go off on his computer before several dozen ships of mixed size and type warped in, along with what appeared to be a massive, seemingly unfinished space station, keeping up with the rest of the fleet by utilizing a combination of smaller tugs and built in engines, the word "ARKLIGHT" appearing on its side. The fleet, and the station halted, though Thump soon noticed that the largest of the objects had begun to orient a suspicious-looking hole on its front towards the space station.

"This is the Arklight, or, just one of the Arklights. Soon there's gonna be about a dozen or so around Freelands space and towards the borders, warding off anyone and anything dumb enough to even try and take over the Freelands. I'll explain how it works in baby terms: Picture a typical ship-based ion cannon that accelerates ionized particles at lightspeed to destroy shields or ships, and size it up a hundred fold. If the big ass ion cannon won't work, then the MAC on it definitely will: when activated, it'll accelerate a 'nuclear slug' to almost lightspeed velocity before firing, which'll surely annihilate anything unfortunate enough to be in its way. Obviously, we're reserving that for planets. In other terms, this is not only a giant laser beam that'll say "fuck you" to anything you aim it at, but also the biggest goddamn piece of railgun artillery that we've ever devised. Before you ask me, yeah, I know all your questions. 'Why does it look unfinished?' Well, you see, 'cause it is unfinished. And, also, you might be wondering, 'Why are you telling me all this, Lincoln?' Good question! I'm telling you this for two reasons: this baby has a simulated 500 test fires, and soon to be one actual; and I've figured out where I wanna shoot it now. Say goodbye to your pathetic excuse of a space station, buddy." Lincoln snarled. "Over and out."

First, Thump saw the ships retreat behind the station. Then, once the massively bright blue light emanating from the superweapon's presumed "barrel" became apparent, the realization of what Lincoln had meant by "shooting it" hit Thump like the tangent to a parabola. "Oh fu–"

Arklight had fired its massive ion cannon to good effect, tearing through what remained of the shields and hull of the station with ease and leaving nothing more but a smoldering scrap of metal in space. The Copperhead drones that deployed from one of the ships then circled the station, shining lights and scanning the debris with inconclusive signs of life returned. All according to plan, Savant grinned, eyeing the holographic figurine of the Arklight that hovered in the hologram of the system, whilst the rest of the fleet circled the debris and converged on Columbia.

"I like it, Mr. Lincoln. I like it a lot. But now, I want more. I want more Arklights, and I want them cheaper. Most importantly, I want them now."

Code: Select all: ARKLIGHT COMPLETION: 98%

by **Tysklandia** » Wed May 23, 2018 5:29 pm

Operation Liberator - kemerinsk System - Asteroid belt T-33 - CNS Forlorn
00:00:00::19::33::32
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

"Sir, I-044 ETA is scheduled 10 minutes, Ostian Convoy is estimated to have at least 133 more minutes of Cooldown prior to being able to activate safe FTL procedures."

The words seemed like shouts in the otherwise silence in the bridge of the Hiroshima-IV class frigate. The over one thousand souls aboard understood the heat-sinks and sensor spoofing devices that made the Hiroshima-class the danger that it was didn't care if they whispered or yelled. But their long isolation and the tense nature if a passing patrol would catch their silhouette in their passing scans of the Asteroid belt in which they hid, often gave them the subconscious need to whisper regardless... The cramp interior did its own part to gift the unconscious feeling of an ancient submarine upon its crew.

"Continue our approach, but drop the decoy, activate on my command."

The bridge crew, along the rest of the men aboard, sat in their void suits, breathing the air from the oxygen tanks spaced around the ship, as the entire ship had been depressurized since the Ostian convoy came into the system to vent their warp drives and presumably continue onwards. For the past three hours, they had been inching through the asteroid belt to get as close to the Ostian convoy as they could without acting out of place to the other asteroids in the belt and risk exposure... The convoy itself seemed to be resting a fair distance away from the belt, but for the Forlorn it was close enough to deploy their torpedoes.

The captain of the Forlorn stood at the holographic display in the center of his CIC where the Ostian convoy was displayed, as captured by the Forlorn their passive sensors. It was clear the Forlorn was heavily outclassed. No matter if its 843-meter-long and bulky frame was designed as a devastating torpedo platform. If even one of the enemy "Carnation" cruisers survived the onslaught, the Forlorn would be outgunned by their laser cannons.

As a deep red clock ticked down from 13 minutes and 32 seconds did the forlorn deposit what the Confederate navy in the Rauber squadrons liked to call the "buoy" in the asteroid belt as the ship itself continued its silent travel through the asteroid belt. The ship had calculated a perfect burn to achieve its necessary speed outside of the Ostian sensor range, allowing it remained silent as it continued its travel through the belt, hugging a cluster of asteroids that dwarfed the ship in size.

"Alright... Begin dropping the torpedoes... clusters of five, every thirty seconds, activation on signal-pulse..."

As the captain spoke, the two dozen officers in the CIC complied promptly, transmitting the necessary orders towards the gunnery and engineering crews. With the entire ship depressurized, including the missile and torpedo batteries, it was an utterly silent endeavor to open the bay doors to the hundred and fifteen Torpedo tubes clustered around the entire birth of the warship. With mechanical arms, the large warheads were pushed out gently and left to float and spin in deep space. Their electronics, scanning and targeting sensors all offline outside of the passive receivers that lied in wait to activate the war machine when called upon.

As the red clock neared the 10-minute mark, the bridge crew held their breath. The only sound whispering through their shared com-link being the gunnery officer who repeated the words "...Mark..." Every time a cluster of torpedoes was released from the launch bays.

The captain broke the silence as he gave the order to activate the buoy. Within seconds, the Buoy, a near perfect external copy of a standard Confederate FTL-Sensor probe, used minute thruster movements to collide with one of the asteroids it floated near. Seconds later, the buoy began transmitting garbled communications, as if defective. Its trajectory and sudden rampant spin would make it difficult to discern if the probe hadn't truly simply smashed into a rock and become defective.

The Forlorn continued its drift, now having past the optimal range from the Ostian Convoy and continuing its drift slowly away from the Convoy, hopefully still hidden from the convoy as it continued to deposit its Torpedo clusters in deep space. With only a handful of minutes left before I-044 jumped upon their unsuspecting prey, did the Forlorn attempt to bait the Ostians into investigating the failing probe.

The CNS Forlorn and squadron I-044 were at least a few star systems ahead of the Battlegroup formations, I-044 having skipped several prey in the attempt to later turn back and to clean out the stragglers they had left behind. The Forlorn had been sitting in wait in the occupied zone for weeks now, gathering intelligence and dropping sensor probes according to Operation Stalker. Because of this, it seemed a good bet that the Convoy would take the bait to investigate or at least destroy the Confederate sensor beacon before it could betray the direction of their departure, or perhaps betray the location of convoys still closer to the advance of the Confederate fleets.

No matter the Ostian response to the false Confederate probe, the time would tick on until even the shorter ranged sensors of the Forlorn and the Ostian ships would notice the impending arrival of multiple FTL signatures, mere minutes away. When those sensors would warn the Ostians of the Impending arrival, the Torpedoes of the CNS Forlorn would burst into life. The selection of nearly 55 Torpedoes that had been ejected into open space launched swiftly towards their prey, rushing towards the Cruisers floating near the Convoy. The Stealth-frigate itself remained adrift, keeping itself keenly silent and using its passive sensors to be aware of the actions of the Ostian Convoy as their trap sprung.

The buoy itself, halted transmitting its broken signal and upon directive of a direct beam transmission from the Forlorn, began transmitting a demand for the convoy to surrender immediately, any attempt to flee would be seen as a hostile action.

Landing Bay 17 - Squadron I-227 - Rickie’s Hussars taskforce, Designated I"The Cracked Egg" - Occupied Zone
May 26th, 2599

Squadron I-227 was created in cooperation with United front informants, allowing the confederacy the chance to prepare the neccesary precautions to avoid "scaring" the privateer forces present in this clandestine base. Ships procured via the Prometheus military subsidiary, The Cerberus Organisation, were added into an Independent volunteer force in service of the Confederate and attached to fleet group Minerva, under the squadron number I-227.

Painted with the symbol of ancient polish hussars and the nomicer of "Rickie's Hussars", did the small squadron of three Ticonderoga-class Frigate and assorted corvettes frigates approach the Cracked Egg. Given the known fact that Rickie's Hussars joined the assault on Ravensburg Starbase, it was the plan that it would gain them entry and the neccesary bragging rights to get into contact with the correct people...

Wheras the crew of I-227 was a mix of respected mercenaries and private contracters, the officer compliment and ground team was composed of Cerberus personel under direct command of rear-admiral Erika Waudman...

one of the Ticonderoga-class frigates, painted with the name "Bristol" was allowed to dock as the other ships maintained a respectful distance.
After the docking was completed, a squad of Cerberus marines stepped in front of the Airlock and kept guard as several others, alongside a rather strange, mixed group of four indiviuals.

With the individuals still getting their bearings, it seemed they were approached by a handful of unsavory characters, who seemed to have money on their mind...

Squadron I-223 - The Last Laugh (Formerly MNV Kuznetsov) - Ostian/Confederate Border - Occupied Zone
May 26th, 2599

Squadron I-223 had a specific, clandestine and important mission on hand. That is why the CNS Trust, a rather formidable Rhine class Heavy-Cruiser, designated in the Confederate Navy as a battle-carrier led the squadron of broadsword and longsword frigates. They complied perfectly with the commands of the Last Laugh, but waited until near the end of their imposed deadline to respond via voice-communication.

"I am Colonel Carina Marlo of the Confederate Navy. I am acting on a special request by the Confederate senate to discuss terms with the Razin faction in regards to the resistance against Ostian occupation, the war and the future of the occupied zone and the forces and civilians under the your jurisdiction. I am preparing a shuttle and am willing to board immediatly to discuss these points at your convinience."

As they awaited response, the ships in the squadron remained silent, their engines cooling and deactivated, their guns retracted into their super-structures, their missile bays closed and their hanger bays closed off from the vaccuum of space.

Operation Liberator – Phase I – Part I - Confederacy of Independent Colonies
00:00:06:12:15:00
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

The first few days continued as planned. Ostian resistance had been low, but so had been their presence. The Ostians had neglected to initiate a fighting retreat, allowing the taskforces of the Confederacy to meet their timeschedules with pinpoint accuracy. The border defenses had been cleaned up with minimal casualties and secured across a vast swath across the border.
But after days of doing nothing but pushing their FTL engines to their limits, time came for the first true battle of the war.

Operation Liberator - Ravensburg starbase
– Confederacy of Independent Colonies – Battlegroup Alpha
00:00:06:12:15:00
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

It was clear Ravensburg had received the necessary pre-emptive warning. But the starbase itself remained an important element in controlling the regional space, especially until the Confederacy could set up their own local repair and supply depots.

Battlegroup alpha had managed to secure the secretive nature of its composition, their advance squadrons not yet being challenged in their push into ill-defended territory. Ravensburg would likely be their first true challenge.

Five days and little over twelve hours after the initial border crossing, did Battlegroup alpha deploy 4 separate long range frigate squadrons in nearby systems around Ravensburg. Over 8 different squadrons commenced to secure the surrounding space, scouting alongside the Entente pathfinder corps. Once the all-clear had been sounded, battlegroup Alpha began its assault. As the battlegroup had dissapeared somewhere in deep-space, somewhere extremly close, in FTL terms, to Ravenburg starbase.

On the fifth day of the war, Battlegroup Alpha deployed 4 separate Minerva led Cruiser squadrons. The 4 identical squadrons escorted their Minerva Heavy-cruisers with a trio of Broadsword escort-frigates and a small group of five Hiroshima-IV Torpedo frigates.

These ships erupted into realspace well outside of optimal weapon range of the Ravensburg starbase and immediately began transmitting real-time Information and positioning information to the several subsequent waves of battlegroup Alpha that were on approach.

The four different squadrons settled in their positions and began deploying their drone and Torpedo compliments on mass, without targeting the enemy in any specific sense.

The enemy in ravensburg would be aware that up to 250 signatures had dissapeared somewhere extremely closeby, but engaging the 4 Minerva squadrons would require departing the combat range of the Ravensburg starbase in order to properly attack either of the 4 squadrons, who kept their Gravitanional Anolomoly generators on standby, ready to deploy a redundant field that would void any attempt at generating an FTL warp connection, keeping the enemy well in place until the other units of Battlegroup Alpha arrived.

4x Interdictor squadrons, deployed beyond optimal weapons range, at 4 equal points distance from Ravensburg starbase in a 3-dimensional plane.

These Minerva Interdictor Squadron consists of the following:
1x Minerva class Heavy Cruiser (weight class Heavy-cruiser 2.7 km's in length)
3x Broadsword class light- frigates (weight class Light-frigate 580 meters in length)
5x Hiroshima IV class Torpedo frigate (weight class Heavy-frigate 893 meters in length)

The combined drone and fighter compliment of the units in a squadron consist of circa 290 assorted fighter droids, deployed primarily from the Heavy cruiser and the Frigate escorts.

The minerva heavy-cruiser is built by Nirti Shipyards and has been a highly classified project of the Confederate Navy. It has seen few risky deployments to date and the full functionality of the Minerva is unknown, although rumors that the Minerva class is the first cruiser-level mobile Warp-Inhibitor ship in the Confederate Navy. Outside of its immense gravitational anolomy generator, the ship houses multiple heavy railgun batteries and several missile and torpedo pods. A light D5-level (200'ish) drone compliment ensures marginal protection against high-speed adversaries.

The Broadsword-III is the most well known workhorse of the Confederate navy, with a few decades in service, repeated overhauls and refits make the ship a popular choice for Confederate captains in search for escort, patrol and light-support ships. Armed with a respectable mix of railguns, missiles, a twin-torpedo launcher and a small D6 drone (20'ish) compliment

The Hiroschima-IV class of Yaskawa Heavy Engineering has a dangerous reputation. It has allways been a dangerous and risky posting, but no other frigate captains can boast the kill or mission success rates than a good Hiroshima ship captain.

The ship has few contemporary armerments, outside of a handful of token railguns and an exstensive CWIS package. Its main offensive power comes from the missile batteries that litter its aft, stern, belly and sides. The destructive compliment of missiles and torpedoes, especially if deployed in number, combines both advanced targeting, evasive and manouvering computing with sheer overwhelming numbers. The missiles, combined with MIRV Torpedo warheads are designed to either overwhelm fleet anti-missile defenses or disrupt approaching fighter or drone forces by simply oversaturating any escape-route or CWIS shield.

Operation Liberator – Confederacy of Independent Colonies – Battlegroup Bravo
00:00:06:12:15:00
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

As Ravensburg had to deal with the commencing siege of Battlegroup Alpha, it had become clear that Battlegroup Bravo ignored the starbase completly and continued their approach towards the Kazan system, their route activally cleared by frigate and cruiser based squadrons, numbering in the dozens.

It was easy to assume supremacy at this point, but Confederate high command was clear in its understanding that the war had not even begun. The Ostians had yet to mobilise and no true point of resistence of fortification had been encountered. The true battles had yet to commence...

Operation Liberator – Confederacy of Independent Colonies – Battlegroup Charlie
00:00:06:12:15:00
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

Battlegroup Charlie was contrasted in comparison to Alpha, Bravo and Delta. All three formations were clustered and supported by multiple, if not dozens of squadrons each. Battlegroup Charlie was simply a temporary formation to allow Fleet group Minerva some more control over the chaotic primary days of crossing into the no mans land that was the occupied zone. BG Charlie consisted primarily of frigate, destroyer and cruiser sqaudrons with only two battle-fleets attached to the entire battlegroup. And the formation joined and disbanded multiple times as they moved into the occupied zone... As the war-clock reached the middle of the seventh day of the Invasion, the fleets and squadrons approached the edge of the territory held by the Ancient Mirbodan Royalists and the Mirbodan Communist factions... Stark enemies of eachother, a difficult notion when one had the goal of united the resistence...

But if a choice had to be made, it was simple. The Confederacy had many, if not uncountable disagreements, economical, political and morally with Communist ideals... So scout squadron I-1993 entered what was known to be White-faction territory and attempted to find a suitable contact to engage the faction in diplomacy to join the United front or at the least, find a way to gain their cooperation in the war.

Vyksa Base - Pravda System - Occupied Zone
May 26th, 2599

Erika arrived in the Pravda system in proper splendor. Her entire battlegroup left warp exactly where the ICS Ambitrix had arrived, those sparse few weeks ago.

Her small Armada immediately split off upon her arrival, several smaller squadrons moving into a large escort patern around the fleet, whereas others performed the risky maneuver of opening turning their engines away from the systems sun and opening their FTL drives to space, to speed up the cooling process. The centerpiece of Erika her Battlegroup seemed to be the Copenhagen Class Cruiser-Carrier “Yggdrasil”, surrounded by a series of Combat and utility-cruisers accompanied by a broad selection of frigates and corvettes that floated gently next to their center-piece.

A few hours after the arrival of the Armada fleet in the system, did the Ambitrix, now properly repainted in Confederate naval colors and designated CNS I-8113-XXI Ambitrix, leave one of the numerous larger hangerbays of the Yggdrasil and venture down to the planet.

The arrival of Erika seemed in stark contrast to their earlier meetings, as a host of Confederate marines in their nearly 3 meter tall powered armored frames accompanied her planet side. Although only a handful of naval security personel, wearing pearly-white plastic-compound and plasteel combat armor over a thin voidsuit, accompanied her to the meeting. Likely to respect the authority of the United front leadership.

Erika arrived in full uniform, the stars on her pristine naval dress uniform, bearing the stripes and medals of a rear admiral with experience. Although knowledge about Confederate awards would likely be nihil amongst the members in the meeting, Erika was one of the prodigies of the Confederate Navy, holding records of exam and practical scores in simulations and a high success ratio in the few years she had as a commanding officer in the Navy. Awards for combat excellence, Humanitarian actions, Heroic actions and the like were organized neatly in miniature-banners above her breast.

Upon entry, Erika moved quickly to remove her cap and to shake the hands of both Pasha and General Vogel whilst sharing the minimum of pleasantries. With a nod, one of her security personel presented a familiar looking case. Holding a miniature holographic emitter that was set up in but a few sparse seconds.
Upon activation, the entire Slavonian sector was displayed, with the depictions of the numerous Confederate combat elements moving towards their respective destinations.

“Again, my apologies for our sudden arrival in number… The arrival of the Tagali forces and several changes in the diplomatic situation on the home-front have forces our hand… The Confederacy, alongside the entire coalition has declared for the United front and the Independence movement. “

With a few swift motions on the Interface, embedded into the holographic emitter, did the Entente and Federation forces, embedded under an Entente fleet group become visible on the holographic map.

“I have an cruiser from the Intelligence bureau in Orbit, which has links to the rest of the battlegroups in the entire Slavonian sector. The Confederacy would request that the United front issue a formal declaration of intent which we will transmit via any means that we have, I am sure we can reach most systems in the Slavonian theatre in that manner. Grounding our liberation of the Slavonian territories together with you, the United resistance against the Ostian invader, is paramount to the success of this campaign… Simply defeating the Tagali presence in the region and leaving the United front to combat the Ostians in a civil war that will last years is not our intent. Our goal is the complete and utter eviction of all Ostian influence in the Theatre and the succession into a stable government in the aftermath…”

Stepping a few steps back, Erika motioned towards the holographic map depicting the confederate movements.

“Now… I am sure you have questions… As the appointed Liason officer for the United front, your cooperation and your success is my prerogative, so please. I am at your disposal.”

Erika her words often seemed chewed out, as if acting in her more official and strict role in a military sense was a chore an annoyance that she had to deal with. But no matter the aftertone, the young woman radiated self confidence and she seemed did not sutter or pause for a moment as she explained the situation to the United front commanders.

Paragon Station, Southern Sagitarius Arm
Velkha Sestra
Uammat Commune
May 24, 2559

WIP

Federal Republic of Corundum
-Corundum border regions with the Freelands-
Diplomatic Mission - CNS Jubilie

WIP

Free Traders Part 1

Turus System
Turus-III
Nerva's Den, Urvet District

by **Ithalian Empire** » Fri May 25, 2018 7:58 pm

Tagali Federation wrote:
Free Traders Part 1

(Image)

Turus System
Turus-III
Nerva's Den, Urvet District

Far away from the growing chaos of the Orion Arm, unclaimed by any of the major players of the Galaxy, was Turus-III, or as it was called by the local Hachkik people, "Ukraktesvashektak". It was a small unremarkable planet, once home to a thriving people and biosphere, now was a ever decaying wasteland, only saved by its discovery by Interstellar pirates 400 years ago, who brought along much needed supplies to keep the dwindling population afloat at the cost of becoming a safe haven for criminals and other outcasts from various peoples across the Galaxy. From Tagali personae non grata to talarian scoundrels, many had come to carve out a living on the arid world. They had come to this planet for different reasons. Some had come to start a new life among the riff raff of Turus-III. Others were only staying temporary, looking for a quick buck to get their next meal. It just so happened that the crew of a modified Antivarian Freighter, the Free Traders, were the latter.

"I never thought, I'd see a Goro in the flesh!" Hadir exclaimed, gawking at the alien creature like the Terran Tourist from Morocco that he was. "The only account anyone has of them in our corner of the Galaxy is the account of the Jalgari Lord Tetrargo over 300 years ago. It is said that their whole species hibernates for centuries before waking up and scouring the galaxy for resources before returning to breed and raise a new brood. After about a decade of this, most of them die and the new brood begins the cycle again." His crewmate, a Tagali Woman named Shejara, couldn't care less. She knew little about many of species that now surrounded herself and her crew mates. Those she could recognize, she wasn't too thrilled to be around either, like the group of Kente Marauders sitting at the other side of the bar from them. The Kente were one of the many species the Tagali had subjugated, and their subjugation and events afterward were particularly nasty. They were eyeing up Shejara, especially the one she presumed to be the leader, an older Kente boasting a Fenvarian pelt cloak a bandolier fashioned out of the jawbones of slain Tagali, fidgeting with a small blade in his hands. She could kill him alone with ease, but his four or so comrades she wasn't so sure of.

Shejara moved towards her Antivarian Captain, her hand placed firmly on the a Tagali made plasma pistol on her hip.

"Captain. Our Contact better show up soon. I don't believe we should stay here for much longer."

Thelo Ter'vak
Turus System
Turus-III
Nerva's Den, Urvet District

Thelo Ter'vak, once a rising star in the Antivarian military, now he was sitting on some back water world, in a dank and smoke filled bar nursing some sorta alien liquor. All around him where the outcasts, the scum, the unwanted of the Orion regions most seedy criminals. And here he was, with his own motley crew of misfits, vagabonds, and a human tourist who "wanted to see the galaxy". He personally would have liked to be somewhere in the Freeland's where work was plentiful and mostly safe. But safe work rarely paid well, and this was a lead he couldn't pass up.

It was an anonymous type about a dangerous cargo, and whoever would get it from point A to point B could be rich beyond there wildest imagination. And so, a rendezvous was set up on this dust ball. The patrons of this particular bar where rather ruff, rougher than anyone you would find in the "civilized" parts of space, but it wasn't like he was rough as well. He was once a marine of His Majesties Marine Corps, the best of the Antivarian armed forces, an elite group that prided itself in being a fighting force to be reckoned with. But that was twenty years ago, since than he had become a bit of a smuggler and occasionally mercenary. He preferred the term Free Trader, and that is what he, and his crew called themselves.

His Tagali crew member moved towards him, hands on here plasma pistol. She was obviously nervous about the Kente. Not that he much cared for them, but at least his race hadn't committed an act of genocide on them. But Shejara was a member of his crew, and if these Murader bastards wanted a fight, than he would give them on.

"Shejara," Thelo said his Antivarian accent stumbling over some of the Tagali pronunciations,"We will stay here until he shows up, if those big guys back there give us issues, I think we could handle it. Besides, all I was told is to show up here and he would come to us."

by **Tagali Federation** » Sun May 27, 2018 7:34 pm

Operation Liberator - Ravensburg starbase
Entente
00:00:06:12:15:00
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

Joining their CIC allies in the first wave was the 3rd and 6th Carrier Flotilla, each group made up a Montgomery-Class Light Carrier and its small escort of frigates and cruisers. Within the Light Carrier, the EIV "Juniper", squadrons of Battlesuits and Fightercraft alike were making the final preparations for battle. Their mission was to establish a beach head of sorts within the system as well as support the CIC offensive. While no official information had been dispatched, word had spread that the Tagali were already moving in on the first wave of Coalition ships.

Operation Liberator - Ravensburg starbase
Entente
00:00:06:12:30:00
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

----//COMMENCING BOOTING----\\
Unit: Hoplite-Class Battlesuit Sierra-Oscar-3-4-8-1
Unit Status: Green
Equipment Status: Green
Pilot Status: Green
Pilot Identification: Sgt. Major Merinda Verwoerd
Mark Two Universal Translator Settings: Human (Old Afrikaans)
.
..
...
....
.....
Combat Preparations: Complete
----\\Welcome Pilot//----

"Hello to you too, Oscar." Miranda said, moving the mech into position. "Any word on what we're looking at encountering out there?"

"No sign of Ostian response, yet. Currently, Five Tagali Battlesuit Levies and two Interceptor Levies have departed the Starbase and currently on route to intercept CIC forces." The miniature AI responded promptly. Miranda looked over the composition of the Tagali force, noticing a peculiar sight.

"Hey Oscar, what information do you have on the Sekru-Class?" She asked.

"TEIBS01-"Sekru" Imperial Battlesuits are an advanced model of Tagali Battlesuits, often equipped with heavier shields and weaponry without sacrificing much in the way of speed and maneuverability.They are often utilized by the Shivandara, the Imperial Guard of the Tagali Empire. Section 03 Declassified Intelligence suggests that Sekru Pilots are exceptional specimens taken from the regular rank and file, the best of the best. Current intel suggests three currently on the battlefield, typical of Personal Guard Units encountered in past engagements."

"What do you fancy are odds are in a 1-on-1 fight?" Oscar took a second to process the request.

"48%, Sergeant."

"Ever the optimist, Oscar." Merinda and Oscar joined the other pilots and their battlesuits, technicians were making the final preparations for launch.

"Listen up, team. Tags are sending out some suits to take out our Confederate allies. A couple of them seem to be apart the Imperial Guard, so take caution. These Tagali Pilots think they're the best of the best, so let's show them what Entente pilots can do!"

"SIR YES SIR!" Battlesuit's thrusters activated, shooting the suits out of the hangar with incredible speed. Off to engage their Tagali enemy.

Operation Liberator - Ravensburg starbase
Tagali
00:00:06:12:35:00
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

The Tagali Battlesuits sped forward through the void, the CIC vessels becoming a small twinkle in the distance. Talar Ura-Sajana, Prince of the Tagali Empire, took the lead with his two comrades in the Imperial Guard, Shivah and Munar.

"Who would have thought the Humans would make the first move? Never knew the frail ones had it in them." The young Shivah said. Munar gave his signature gravelly grunt.

"We pushed too far, too fast. Left them with few options. They're acting like any animal backed into a corner would."

"And like such animals, we'll put them down." Talar interjected. "Eyes up. Entente Suits incoming. Shivah, Get your numbers up? Shouldn't be too hard. They're Entente Pilots, not Maug-Lai Rogues." Talar's suit boosted off with speed. He may have no place in the Royal Court, let alone the throne, but the heat of combat was his element. This here, was where he belonged.

by **The Moscow Metro Red Line** » Thu May 31, 2018 8:28 pm

The Southern War (Slavonian Theater) - Operation Liberator - Ostian Navy - Convoy S327
00:00:00:19:33:32
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

Bridge - I.O.S. Laughing Fennec (Lilac Class Heavy Cruiser) - Kemerinsk System- Occupied Zone

"This is Convoy Lead to all ships, maintain current formation. All battlesuit teams are to remain on alert status. We need still need at least another hour before we can engage our FTL drives and resume our course to Grozny Starbase." The Commanding Officer of the Convoy, Captain of Sea Georg Geiger of the I.O.S. Laughing Fennec. He was a veteran of the Ostian-Mirbodan War and had been serving in the Ostian Navy for eleven years. He and his crew were all wearing their Ostian Naval Environmental Suits over their standard uniforms. Convoy S327 was headed to the Ostian-Confederate Border when they began receiving the reports of opening engagements between the Ostian and the Confederate Navies. Because of this news and the orders received from Fleet Admiral Kolchak, he and his convoy were heading back to the nearest Ostian naval base. The closest one to them was the Grozny Starbase.

Since coming out of warp, the Convoy maintained its usual battle formation. Arnica's at the center, Iris escorts around Arnicas, Carnation cruisers taking rear guard and side guard, and the Lilac Heavy Cruiser taking point. Four out of the seven battlesuit platoons had been deployed. Two platoons were taking lead, one platoon was at the rear and one platoon was at the center of the formation. There were sixteen Jäger 2s, two Ritter 2s, and two Balistas. The Balistas were holding the center of the formation. A tactical analysis of the formation would reveal that a majority of the overarching fire is concentrated at the center. The purpose of the formation was to protect the ships at the center from any concentrated fire such as torpedoes or small craft.

"Captain Geiger, signature detected in asteroid field. Signature matches known Confederate model of an FTL Sensor-Probe."

"Have Grey Platoon intercept that signal. Alert Sigmund Platoon to launch and retake the former's position in the formation. I prefer that we remain undetected for as long as possible."

"Understood, orders being issued. Grey Platoon has moved to intercept. Sigmund Platoon is launching from the main hanger. Time to intercept is ten minutes. Platoon Leader is requesting permission for a full-burn. It will cut the time to intercept to half. However that will leave them dangerously low on power for extended combat operations."

"Permission granted. They can recharge once we get back into FTL at Grozny."

"Understood, Grey Platoon is intercepting at full burn." A platoon of three Jäger 2s and two Ritter 2s began moving towards signature at full burn. Meanwhile another platoon of battlesuits deployed from the Lilac Heavy Cruiser. This platoon consisted of two Jäger 2s and three Trebuchets. Each of the Trebuchets were armed with a different loadout. One carried a TOBA-7 Thermal Cannon with a TOBA-6 Missile Container on its left shoulder. Another carried a TOBA-4 Railgun with two TOBA-1 Missile Containers on its shoulders. The last carried a TOBA-4 Railgun but with a TOBA-2 Missile Container on its left shoulder and a TOBA-8 Gatling Cannon on its right. It is obvious that this particular platoon of battlesuits were the equivalent of heavy weapons specialists. The railguns and thermal cannons being anti-ship weapon with the rest of its shoulder weaponry used to supplement its anti-small craft and missile defenses.

Captain Geiger waited patiently for Grey Platoon's report. He didn't want to deploy his heavy weapons battlesuit platoon but it seemed like a good choice at the moment. Just as Grey Platoon arrived at the estimated location of the Confederate Probe, his sensors operator began yelling, "Captain, detecting several FTL signatures heading to our location. They aren't ours sir."

"Alert Grey Platoon to fall back into formation. We've probably been already-"

"Detecting multiple heat signatures coming from deep space! They're torpedoes! Trajectories are being calculated as we speak!"

"Have Guillotine Platoon and Sapphire Blue Platoon intercept those torpedoes! Alert status to the entire convoy that we are under attack! All hands to action stations!"

"Sir, a message is being sent to us. Its a demand for our surrender. How should we-"

"If they wanted us to surrender they wouldn't have fired those torpedoes first and then send the message. Its obvious that their intent is to kill. Even if these defense platforms aren't going to be at the border, they will be useful for defending the Grozny Starbase. I want two of our Iris Escorts to break formation and engage those torpedoes as well. They have permission to use their missiles as a screen."

The Southern War (Slavonian Theater) - Operation Liberator & Second Battle of Ravensburg - Ostian Navy - Convoy S327
00:00:06:12:31:13
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

The Southern War (Slavonian Theater) - Operation Liberator & Second Battle of Ravensburg - Ostian Navy - 4th Fleet of the 1st Southern Front
00:00:06:12:15:00
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

Bridge - I.O.S. Maiden's Embrace (Gentian Class Carrier) - Ravensburg Starbase - Occupied Zone

By the sixth day of the war, the Ostian front-line had become more solidified. Reinforcements were pouring from neighboring sectors and the defenses not used in the holds of the convoys were used to fortify the front-line. Automated turrets, mines, artificial asteroid fields, sensor buoys, and such were being used in the fortification.

Since the last Battle of Ravensburg, the Ostian Navy has been reconstructing their Starbase at Ravensburg. The result of the last battle forced Ostian planners to scrap the old starbase and build a new one. Several convoys were moving to Ravensburg with numerous building supplies for the construction of the new starbase. What could not be salvaged from the old Starbase was used to create a defensive debris field. As the war began there were five constructions at the site of the Ravensburg Starbase. There were four defensive logistics platforms which surrounded the construction site of the new Ravensburg Starbase. And another medium-sized starbase near the site of the construction. The four defensive logistics platforms were modular in design and allowed a variety of roles. For this purpose they were used to not only store building material for the new starbase but also to defend the construction of it. The medium-sized starbase near to it was used for administration but also as a temporary starbase until the actual Ravensburg Starbase was built. By the time of the war, only the skeleton of the starbase was built. It had an exposed power generator and shield generator built into the frame as well. The four defense platforms were shielded and had an array of weapons which were overly sticking out from the hull. Dual-Laser Cannon turrets, 75mm autocannon turrets, missile launchers, torpedo launch bays, and high-yield energy laser cannons. There were only three of the high-energy laser cannon turrets, two torpedoes bays (above and below), and dozens upon dozens of dual-laser cannon turrets and 75mm autocannon turrets. The missile launchers were retractable into the hull to allow an easier reloading process. The medium-sized starbase was armed with a single Jäger Cannon, three high-energy laser turrets, a couple dozen rotary cannon turrets (CWIS), three torpedo bays, retractable missile launchers, and a couple dozen dual-laser cannon turrets. Both the platforms and the starbase had a hanger bay.

However with the incoming convoys, the defenses of the Ravensburg Starbase was bolstered further. The defensive debris field was expanded with artificial asteroid fields making the field able to cover one entire "side" of the starbase. Automated turrets were scattered around and near the defensive platforms adding to their firepower. Stationed at the Ravensburg Starbase was the 4th Fleet of the 1st Southern Front and the 999th Orbital Knights. With the support of the 999th OK, the Ostian forces at Ravensburg will have an extraordinary amount of battlesuits.

On the bridge of the I.O.S. Maiden's Embrace, the command ship of the 999th OK, Colonel Fredric Alder who was the CO of the 999th OK was sitting on the command chair. The captain of this ship was somewhere else when the Confederates and the Entente had warped in. Though he was in command of his own unit, the ship which he was on along with the ships which his unit traveled in were under control of the navy. This essentially meant that he and his unit were merely passengers on their ships rather than the masters.

"Rear Admiral Suza 'Hanomai is ordering us to deploy our companies in defensive formation. Specifically our Vanguard, 1st and 2nd companies to the Athos Platform. We may keep our remaining assets to our disposal."

"The naming of these platforms irks me to no end. Athos, Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan? Do we also rename the station to Dumas? Mind as well at this point." Colonel Alder was more annoyed at the lost of his companies rather than the naming. If anything he was surprised that the Rear Admiral had an interest in old earth literature. Kriegschen generally don't give him the impression of avid readers of old literature. "Send out these orders to the Battalion. Have the droptrooper companies remain in their ships. It will supplement ship security." There was a bell coming from behind the Colonel as the doors to the lift opened revealing the Captain of the ship. "Captain Schmidt, good of you to join us."

"As always, Colonel Alder. You would be happy to know that we are staying put. Only your battlesuits will be joining the initial engagement." Captain Schmidt walked from the lift and towards the command chair, which Colonel Alder had gotten up from and began leaning on its right arm rest. "I am sure that we can do well simply staying put at the Ravensburg Starbase."

'What more can we do? Your fleet consists of three Gentians, five Arnicas, an Aster, and seven Carnations. Furthermore the 999th is the standard sized Orbital Knights Battalion, a Command section, three battlesuit companies, three droptrooper companies, a reconnaissance company with mixed drop troopers and battlesuits, an artillery battery with mixed vehicles and battlesuits, an anti-air company with mixed vehicles and battlesuits, a signal company, a supply platoon, a medical station, a repair station and command section. If they are taking away our reconnaissance, 1st and 2nd companies for their defense, we still have our 3rd company, artillery battery, and anti-air company. We're more suited as support than dueling with other ships."

"The 4th Fleet of the 1st Southern Front consists of a single Edelweiss Dreadnought, eight Saxifragus Heavy Destroyers, thirteen Cyclamen Destroyers, two Aster SWECs, three Chrysanthemum Class Battleships, nine Lilac Heavy Cruisers, seven Carnation class cruisers and ten Iris Escorts. The real issue of the 1st Southern Front or even the whole Southern Front is that we have 19 convoys out in the Occupied Zone with 204 combat ships out there. Most of those ships are cruisers and escorts leaving the much larger ships here. We are lacking the smaller ships needed for a proper escort and we're relying mainly on battlesuits for this battle as a screening force. Granted, the platforms will also provide some screening fire but they're stationary targets."

"Given that and the fact that we have a shell of the station and a large supply of construction material in each of the platforms, we mind as well as let them to move in and build their own base here." Colonel Alder looked at Captain Schmidt and smiled, "Let's hope that the Maiden's with us this day. Reinforcements should be coming our way, after all Ravensburg is considered a rallying point. With the Tagali presence here, we are sure to attract attention."

As the small collection of ships of the 999th gathered near the temporary Ravensburg Starbase, the rest of the ships of the Ostian 4th Navy of the 1st Southern Front would form around the foremost defense platform facing the incoming Confederate and Entente ships. Though out sized and out numbered, the Ostian sailors would hope to use their Tagali allies and their battlesuit numbers to best stall the incoming ships. After all help should be on its way.

The Southern War (Slavonian Theater) - Operation Liberator & Second Battle of Ravensburg - Ostian Navy - 4th Fleet of the 1st Southern Front
00:00:06:12:31:13
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

The Southern War (Slavonian Theater) - Operation Liberator - Ostian Navy - 1st Southern Front
00:00:00:23:59:59
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

The 1st Southern Front of the Ostian Navy had already an initial casualty count of the first day of the war. At least 40 combat ships have been confirmed destroyed. Many of the convoys had scattered and the whereabouts of each ship were unknown. At least 1000 Ostian Navy personnel were killed, captured or missing. Though the 1st Southern Front was larger than other pre-war Sector fleets due to its dual role as protector of both the Ekaterina Sector and the Occupied Zone, this initial onslaught as well as the convoy duties of three fleet's worth of ships being harassed and ambushed was definitely a blow to the fighting strength of the 1st Southern Front. However Ostian fleets from the neighboring sectors, the 2nd and the 3rd Southern Front Fleets, began organizing and sending whatever they could to shore up the front-line.

The Southern War (Slavonian Theater) - Operation Liberator - Ostian Navy - 1st Southern Front
00:00:06:00:00:00
Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

The Last Laugh (Formerly MNV Kuznetsov) - Ostian/Confederate Border - Occupied Zone
May 26th, 2599

There was a pause from the Dreadnought before it sent its response. "This is Vice Admiral Stephan Razin of the Slavonian Directorate. If we are to negotiate with one another, I suggest you call the government whom I represent as the Slavonian Directorate. Not as the Razin Faction or even Razin's Raiders. I find such names to be vulgar and offensive to the people who align themselves with the legitimate government of Slavonia. Send your shuttle to my ship and head to the main hanger bay. We shall talk then Confederate."

The transmission shut off. Scans would reveal that the Fleet infront of the Confederates had a weapons lock on all their ships. It was clear that they still didn't trust their intentions and motivations. Meanwhile the main hanger of the Last Laugh was being prepared by the soldiers and the crewmen of the ship. All the fighters, bombercraft and battlesuits were shuttled to other parts of the ship while a large reception area was being made. There was an an obvious landing section for the Confederate Shuttle to land with a red carpet and a table full of refreshments. The red and white banners were hanged on walls of the hanger as well. Several MPA Anti-Personnel Drones were also patrolling the area with their guns already out. All of this was being done and prepared as they awaited the Confederate response.

Landing Bay 17 - "The Cracked Egg" - Occupied Zone
May 26th, 2599

As the Frigate docked with the station, a group of pirates hanging around this particular area began moving to the recently docked ship. The extending airlock which connected the Frigate to the interior of the station was spacious and wide. It was big enough to allow They walked up to the recently landed ship. These pirates were not wearing much armor except for a body vest and knee guards. They were carrying pistols and knives as they approached them. This motley crew of looking for an easy buck were mostly human with two Angelvolk with them. One of the pirates, who was wearing an old MPA Officer's visor cap, seemed to be leading them. "Welcome to the Cracked Egg, my boys and I are part of customs duty. You see, the Boss would like to collect protection fees for ships landing to our quiet part of space." He glanced behind him at their ship. "We've been getting reports of thievery around these docks and the boss would like to collect fees for increased protection."

As the Officer spoke, a male Angelvolk wearing a black coat, tinted red googles and red armband with a black skull on his right arm turned the corner into the airlock's hallway. The Angelvolk spoke aloud, "I don't know what you are trying to do Avrick. But this part of the station belongs to Captain Togusa the Blooded! If you and your friends don't want to end up in my shop, I suggest you piss off." The pirate in the officer's cap turned to face the Angelvolk when he was speaking. After the Angelvolk finished speaking, the pirates who had approached the arriving Confederate delegation left quickly and ran past the Angelvolk. The Angelvolk chuckled and then began walking towards the Confederates.

"I apologize for the local reception. But if you see someone talking about rules and regulations and they aren't wearing an armband of one of the Captains, you are free to give them a taste of the floor. Dorarix, at your service. Butcher by trade and weapons dealer on the side. I have sold a few shipments of weapons to the good General himself. Welcome to the Cracked Egg! The second freest place in the galaxy. First are the Freelands, but I like to think that we're neck to neck."

Vyksa Base - Pravda System - Occupied Zone
May 26th, 2599

"So the time has finally come", Pasha said aloud. "The future of our country shall be decided in this time. Whether we live under the banner of freedom or the chains of oppression." The soldiers, officers, and personnel of the United Front looked at awe with the size of the Confederate Fleet. It was a tremendous and humbling sight to see their benefactors coming in full force to help them liberate their country. The show of force and the reports of the fleeing Ostians provided a large morale boost to the United Front. "Maybe in a few months we shall be having our victory toast in the ruins of the Imperial Palace and watching the War Trials which will surely come."

"But before that happens, Pasha, we need to work on getting rid of the Ostians and their allies. Our opponents are many - the Imperial Ostian Military, the Ostian Auxiliary Forces, Slavonian Corps and the Tagali Military. From our sources the two collaborator factions, the OAF and the Slavonian Corps are under the control of separate organizations. The OAF is under the control of the Ostian Inquisition while the Slavonian Corps is under the control of the Ostian High Command."

"The base of the Slavonian Corps is the Kazan System. Though the Kazan System is under the control of the Ostian Military, the Kazan System and a few systems around it belong to the group of communities calling themselves Novzaks. Their name comes from the Russian words Noviy which means new and Kazaks which translates to Cossacks. In a sense, they consider themselves the new freemen of Slavonian. Free from the chairs of the Imperial and the Communist eras. They have been using the relative non-status within the Occupied Zone to create their own community and their own micro-nation. In fact their official name is the Novzak Confederation. Last year they were acknowledged as an autonomous entity within the Ostian Imperium. As a reward for their declaration of loyalty to the Imperium, the Ostian Government invested economic and military aid to the Novzaks. A majority of the soldiers in the Slavonian Corps belong to the Novzaks."

"Pasha and I agree that these collaborators are not worth negotiating over. They have expressed their intent on fighting for their freedom, while licking the boots of Karl the Seventh." General Vogel looked at the armor of the Confederate soldiers who had accompanied Erika. "How much does a single unit cost? I like the look of this armor. But I can't help but guess that this is some kind of specialized armor that isn't just mere body armor."

"Though there is something which I am curious about", Pasha added as Vogel admired the Confederate heavy armored soldiers. "What is your plan once you reach the SAZ? The Ostians rebuilt that section of the country for us and I think it would be best if we are able to preserve their improvements for our country. Also I am curious who you have contacted among the other factions. Especially your choices for contact.

by **Tysklandia** » Wed Jun 06, 2018 2:37 pm

Paragon Station, Southern Sagitarius Arm
Velkha Sestra
Uammat Commune
May 24, 2559

Federal Republic of Corundum
-Corundum border regions with the Freelands-
Diplomatic Mission - CNS Jubilie

The Confederacy had never engaged in comprehensive diplomatic contact with the Federal Republic. Even though they supported their choice for independence, they were deemed to far to be of strategic importance for the Confederacy. Their region of space was also deemed dangerous, so diplomatic contact and treaties would possibly drag the confederacy into conflict they could not afford to have.

But the current state of tension made it clear that the confederacy should atleast try to maintain trade connection with such a partner, considering that succesful diplomacy could secure safe passage in that region of space, should the war spill over in their region of space.

For that effort, the CNS Jubilie, a Rhine class Battle-carrier was detached from Fleet group Eisenhower and sent on the long voyage to federal space. Long range communication had been attempted beforehand, to arrange the neccesary logistics for their arrival. Slightly behind schedule, did the cruiser approach one of the border systems of the Federal Republic of Corundum, awaiting their counterparts to begin discussing the involvement of the federal republic in the war.

Free Traders Part 1

Turus System
Turus-III
Nerva's Den, Urvet District

Tarina and Walter sat in the corner of the rowdy bar, keeping their distance as they played a game of 3D chess holographically emitted by a datapad they had left lying on the table. Tarina played the game with one eye on the bar, as she could basically smell the tension in the air as Tagali mercenaries were busy with a stare down with several other groups in the bar, comprised of countless races that the empire had enslaved in the past.

Even if they had left the confederacy to live in the grey area of the law, love for the Tagali was nowhere to be found for Tarina or her company. As she contemplated escape routes and if they shouldn't call off the meeting, Walter broke the silence at their table.

"You better not be cheating again.." The engineer had a coarse voice, as a he had suffered a rather scharpnel wound in the neck on their last mission. Walter was a tad bit older than Tarina, although the twenty year difference didn't show much, given the genetic alterations that boosted cell regeneration amongst most Civilians in the Confederacy. The older man had sever aboard the Lotheringen and its crew for almost his entire life, spending his time fixing gear and ensuring the crew allways had what they needed on whatever they embarked on. He was a very intelligent man, but he allways had difficulty beating Tarina at games of skill. Something that infuriated him to no end.

"I told you, I can't read minds, you are just a soar loser is all." Tarina Quipped her response in a cheerful, although silent tone.

She had never learned to control her "gift", having spent most of her formative years on the run and controlling herself through sheer force of will and neccesity, lest she be used for the powers she had. Reading the emotionial and logisitcal brainwaves of any living creature had and will allways be far beyond her capacity. Reading emotions however, was not that hard. And Walter had never been an expert with hiding his fierce temper, even in games of skill and intrigue.

As the two continued their cheerful discussion, they did maintain a stern attention to the rest of the establishment, waiting for their fabled employer to arrive. A well hidden com-link, intigrated into Walter his cranial cybernetic implant ensured that Tarina her sister, who was lounging on a balcony outside, overlooking the street and the entrance, could warn them of approaching trouble.

now all they had to do, was wait for their contact.

by **Tagali Federation** » Wed Jun 06, 2018 4:32 pm

"Those who came before look after those who follow.
"May Savah aid us in guiding our most venerable ancestors into the restful void.
May Jaka grant us weapons to defend their tombs.
May Hana bestow upon us the knowledge and wisdom to do right by them.

Tagali Prayer for the Dead

Jakala, the Tagali Homeworld
Saj Islands
The Imperial Courtyard

The Empress and her three youngest Children, the very youngest being wrapped up and strapped to her back, knelt before a small shrine dedicated to the ancestors of House Sajana. The shrine was housed in the middle of the courtyard, small stones with the names of famous Sajana written on them formed a circle around the small House-like statue, forming a ring around the prayer circle, as was Saj Islander tradition.As the Empress finished reciting the prayer, she noticed her son to her right, Henval, playing with a small insect-like creature. To get his attention back to the prayer, she delivered small, but firm smack to the back of the head, promptly getting him back on track. With the prayer out of the way, all that was left to do was to light the Gah leaves. Gah leaves released a very strong odor when burned, capable of warding off animals from the area for sometime. It was a holdover from when such shrines once marked the site of Tagali burial mounds.

The Empress pulled out the ritual flint and steel and passed them to her daughter on the left, Fera.

"Go on. Just as I showed you." Fera nodded and took the flint and steel, as well as a small cloth to light. She struck the flint three times before lighting the cloth aflame. As the cloth began to burned, she quickly wrapped it around the leaves, which quickly burned. Much to the children's joy, the ritual was done, at least for another week.

"Finally!" Henval exclaimed. "Now can we eat, Mother?" The young boy's lack of volume control had awoken the young tagali baby on the Empress's back, straining her patience with Henval even further."Do not disrespect the ancestors, Child." The Empress hit the boy upside the head one more time. "Because of that outburst, you'll only be getting steamed Shana eggs." Henval rubbed the pained region of his head.

"But Mot-" The Empress interrupted, raising her hand.

"Tunka Sukra" She uttered, a common saying among Tagali Mothers. As the small boy sulked, The Imperial Marshall and his retinue of Guards and Advisors. The Empress prodded her children along.

"Run off now. I'll be with you shortly." The two children nodded and ran off, chasing various small flying creatures along the way. Empress Yaliza turned to Marshall Isail.

"What is it, Marshall? Has another species revolted?" Isail readied himself.

"Entente, Confederate, and NEF forces have crossed into Ostian Space. So far, there's been only been small engagements around the border." The Empress was stunned.

"Hana'ful Skaya. Have they crossed the DMZ?"

"Not yet, but it's not out of the question to expect an attack. All forces along the border have been put on red alert."

"Is Operation Ordicca ready?"

"We're waiting on a few Minor Fleet Masters to arrive at the mustering point, but otherwise we're at Operable numbers." Yaliza nodded.

"The Humans have forced our hand. Commence with Operation Ordicca immediately."

Sol System
Pluto
"Point-Nastasya" Station, Entente FTL Monitoring Station

Once the United Nation's Interstellar Defence Force's Military testing grounds, Pluto was now pocked with craters and the frozen remains of charred twisted husked of vehicle targets, obsolete even centuries before. Only a handful of inhabitants lived on the dwarf planet, wishing to get away from the hustle and bustle of Earth and Mars. It wasn't completely insignificant, for it was home to the Sol FTL Monitoring Station, "Point-Natasya". There, travel in and out of the system was watched by a small skeleton crew. A truly dull posting.

"Hey Ortega, are you seeing this? I'm getting a bunch of weird readings just outside the atmosphere." The Middle-aged Sensor's Analyst walked over, taking a swig of his coffee. It was too early for this. He looked over the readings.

"That can't be right." Ortega said, gruffly. "If I'm reading this right, we're looking a a wormhole opening up right above us. But somethings not right, it's way to stable to be natural, but who has the ability to create a wormhole?" Suddenly, the Sensors began to go off frantically.

"Ortega, I'm getting, dozens, no hundreds of contacts emerging from the wormhole. What the hell is goin-" The Man went silent.

"What is it, Ensign!?" Ortega barked, concern filling his voice.

"Sir, I can't believe this, it's the Tagali. They're pouring in by the hundreds. We've got to inform TERRACOMMAND immediately!"

by **Ithalian Empire** » Wed Jun 06, 2018 10:03 pm

Emperor Sho'te She'ttel
Captains Ready Room
HMCS Derv'sta

The Warrior will cast down his sword, the Mothers tears will be wiped away, and the Kings will cast down there crowns. In those days all the stars will tremble and the whole of creation will know that I am the Creator of all.

-The Second Book of Fates, Chapter Nine, Verse Sixteen

The Emperor had began his long journy home, but that did not mean that the affars of the state had gone away. No, even if the Council was running the day to day affairs of the Commonwealth, he had to be the one to declare the war. It had to be him who would sign the paper that would condemn untold souls to death. Some rulers would have felt nothing for the faceless fodder the sent to war, but it weighed heavy on Sho'tes heart and he had spent many hours in prayer to the Creator. It was time now, to address the Commonwealth, and the galactic community as a whole. The die of destiny was set, but the roll was yet to be read. He, now more than ever, would have to steer the Commonwealth through ever more treacherous waters.

It was with these thoughts that he sat down on behind the large desk that had been placed in the Ready Room of the Commonwealth Class Battleship. Lights and other equipment had been set up in the room, the ships own powerful communications array sending the video and audio to the Commonwealth, an any one who wished to tune in. The countdown went down and the feed went live, all across the Commonwealth the local programing was interrupted with the flag of the Commonwealth and than the Emperor himself.

"Greeting, fellow citizens of the Commonwealth, I have chosen this time to speak to you about the current state of galactic politics and our standing within them. As many of you know, the Tagali and the human nations have been pitted in a state of cold war since there first encounter. Again, as many of you know, the Tagali are an aggressive and expressionistic race who believe that it is the right of the strong to oppress the weak. As of this time, a state of war now exist between the Human nations of the Sol Entente, the New Earth Federation, and the Confederacy of Independent Colonies.

Than there is the Ostian Imperium. A small nation lead by human bordering our south. They have decided to embrace Tagali philosophy and have joined the Empire in an alliance. Now, many of you ask why any of this matter to us. I will tell you why. Should the human alliance falter and be vanquished, than there will be no nation between us and the future conquests of the Tagali, in short we would become the next logical step in further expansion. We know have a choice of fighting the Tagali now, with allies who can aid us in the war effort, or later, alone and friendless against the largest Empire in this region of the galaxy.

I, do not want to fight that war alone.

I have therefore taken the mantel of responsibility as Sovereign of our nation to join the human coalition in there fight. For there fight is our fight. We will be the sword and the shield for liberty and freedom in this region of the galaxy. We will ensure that our children will never fear the threat of Tagali aggression. We will go into the Great Crusade in the name of our Creator and for the liberty of those races who even now are under the brutal yoke of Tagali rule. We will send our brave warriors to all fronts of this war, from Ostia to the Tagali lands if need be. And when future historian look upon this time, let them not say that we where weak in the face of our enemy, but that we stood as firm as iron in the face of our foe. Let the stars shake before us, for we are now engaged in the most righteous war in the history of the Commonwealth.

May the Creator grant us strength for the long road ahead and victory for no just us, but for all the races we now seek to liberate."

Head Quarters of First Fleet

The First Fleet was one of the three largest fleets in the Commonwealth Imperial Navy. Consisting of 215 combat vessels, not counting the unknown tenders, tugs, and repair ships needed to maintain such a large fleet. It was also one of three fleets to sport the Anitvar Class Titan, a recently knew addition to the Commonwealth arsenal. All told, the first, second, and third fleet composed the creme de la creme of the Commonwealth's Navy. Stationed around the capital world, the first fleet was one of the most readied and prepared of the three main combat fleets. Commanding this great assemblage of vessels was an Antivarian High Admiral by the name of Terka De'ver. He had gained his name and rank by fighting in the anti-piracy wars along the Commonwealth Freeland Border. He had gained a reputation as somewhat of a hot head, but a skilled tactician nonetheless.

With the declaration of war against the Tagali Empire and Ostian Imperium. Terka De'ver was currently standing in the council chamber of the Imperial Palace itself. Before him were the most powerful Antivarians and Shanxi in all of the Commonwealth. Terka De'ver didn't care so much about the politics in front of him, but he did know one thing: he would receive his orders to go to war. To go into war to win the glory and fame for his emperor, himself, and his Creator.

"Terka De'ver... I assume you know what your battle orders are," said a fat Antevarian sitting in his splendid robes upon the bench.

Terka De'ver thought over the statement, he was not happy with the assignment, but he supposed it would be better than not doing anything. "Yes Chancellor Al'tenda, I do however believe that the First Fleet Would be better suited in the Ostian Front. We could have the Ostians begging for peace before the year is out if me and my fleet where to pe deployed."

A Shanxi spoke next, Gergadin Domakii, Vice Grand Admiral of the Commonwealth Navy, " You sentiments are shared by many Admiral, but you do not see the big picture. The Tagali are a strategic unknown, even more unknown than the Ostian forces the Rapid Response Fleets will face. We feel that it will be necessary to bolster the Entente's own defense against a Tagali invasion. First Fleet is the only Battle Fleet currently ready for combat, and we need that strength in the south. You will head to the Entente and coordinate with our human allies."

"Yes Grand Admiral Domakii."

For the next week, the final preparations would be made for the 214 ships of the First Fleet to be made ready. And then it would be off to the galactic south, to fame. glory, and in the minds of every Antivarian present, victory.

Head Quarters of the Rapid Response Fleets

The Rapid Response fleet, where, as the name implies, fleets meant to respond rapidly to threats within the Commonwealth that other fleets would be too slow to engage. This was mostly useful for large scale anti-piracy action on the Commonwealth fringe. It also made them the most battle tested fleets in the Commonwealth. All told there where four of these fleets, with fifty combat vessels assigned to each one. All together they were under the command of High Admiral De'kata M'to.

Fleet headquarters itself was located in orbit above Throin AIII, a small rocky world that was home to roughly two billion souls and in a position on the Antivarian Frontier that the planet had slowly become a trade hub. At the very top of the station was the Fleet Briefing room, where De'kata and the four Vice Grand Admirals under him where currently sat.

"I see we have all heard the Emperor's speech?" The other admirals noded "With that speech came orders from Central Command, we are to move as fast as safe to the Ostian frontier, from there we will begin to make probing attacks, draw Ostian and hopefully Tagali forces away from the main conflict farther south. We are not going to be mounting a full invasion of Ostia, but to measure the strength of the Ostian border. As soon as they are ready the Second and Third Fleets will come and we shall begin a full incursen of the Ostian Imperium. I want our fleets ready to move in three day, we rendezvous at Gert'acha Point, just inside Commonwealth Space."

Commonwealth War of Liberation
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Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes:Seconds

by **Legatia** » Thu Jun 07, 2018 9:02 am

Federation of Corundum
Sector Fleet 16, Corundan Federal Navy
Aboard the Coriolanus-class capital ship Jeanne d'Arc
32 AU from solar center, Netrus II system

Cordelia had received the word perhaps a week prior to the incident occuring. A diplomatic mission from the Confederacy would be entering the system, specified as a battlecruiser, the Jubilie. While the command considered it queer a warship be used as a diplomatic envoy, they passed it off- security would just be upped. The world for negotiations was not highly strategically important- it housed a few mines for titanium and other metals in its mountains and lakes, and was not a major Federal Armed Forces deployment center.

As the Jubilie would exit from hyperspace, the first thing to greet it would be the enormous visage of two Coriolanus-class capital ships, among the largest warships in the Navy's arsenal, outmatched only by the Scapus-class fleet carriers and more recently by the titan Delta-classes, themselves wrapped in a shroud of secrecy. Veritable aces of space, Coriolanus boasted a primary and two secondary MAC drivers on its prow, with huge amounts of secondary and CIWS mounted about its side. These were among the best ships the Federation had to offer, and their proven design had allowed numbers to be built that allowed easy deployment of them wherever they needed to go. They were flanked by a number of other craft- some heavy cruisers and destroyers as well, but the strike arm of Sector Fleet 16 was performing escort for the detachment.

Aboard the rightmost Coriolanus, Jeanne d'Arc, her captain stood. Jeanne's systems had already completed the positive ID of the craft, and the vessels were maneuvering to make way- it was bigger of a vessel then they had expected.

"Send her a message relaying jump coordinates. We'll escort her to the jump point to allow her systems to cool down enough, then head straight there.

Code: Select all: SENDER: OCS-141 CFN JEANNE D'ARC RECIPIENT- CNS JUBILIE TRAFFIC- SECURE, NON/E MESSAGE= Greetings. This is the CFN Jeanne d' Arc, leading ship of the escort contingent. Our talks will be taking place on the planet of Titania. We expect a 3 hour jump from this system to Titania. We will escort your ship to a proper point within this system to allow for your engines to cool, and commence with the jump. Coordinates will follow this message. On arrival to the system, we request that you hold 10 AU from the solar center, where we will remain with you. An unarmed diplomatic vessel will transport any members of the delegation to the surface of Titania Primaris. You are permitted a reasonable amount of armed security detail with your delegation as you see fit. The Federal Republic will also be providing security and overwatch until you depart our space.

Once the message had been sent, the fleet maneuvered the battlecarrier to the jump position, and delivered them without incident to Titania Primaris. A world of blue and grey, it twinkled like a diamond in the midst. The fleet gave the Jubilie distance as the small diplomatic vessel approached. It was for the time unescorted, slowly approaching the Jubilie on its side.

by **Tysklandia** » Fri Jun 08, 2018 1:47 pm

Legatia wrote:Federation of Corundum
Sector Fleet 16, Corundan Federal Navy
Aboard the Coriolanus-class capital ship Jeanne d'Arc
32 AU from solar center, Netrus II system

Cordelia had received the word perhaps a week prior to the incident occuring. A diplomatic mission from the Confederacy would be entering the system, specified as a battlecruiser, the Jubilie. While the command considered it queer a warship be used as a diplomatic envoy, they passed it off- security would just be upped. The world for negotiations was not highly strategically important- it housed a few mines for titanium and other metals in its mountains and lakes, and was not a major Federal Armed Forces deployment center.

As the Jubilie would exit from hyperspace, the first thing to greet it would be the enormous visage of two Coriolanus-class capital ships, among the largest warships in the Navy's arsenal, outmatched only by the Scapus-class fleet carriers and more recently by the titan Delta-classes, themselves wrapped in a shroud of secrecy. Veritable aces of space, Coriolanus boasted a primary and two secondary MAC drivers on its prow, with huge amounts of secondary and CIWS mounted about its side. These were among the best ships the Federation had to offer, and their proven design had allowed numbers to be built that allowed easy deployment of them wherever they needed to go. They were flanked by a number of other craft- some heavy cruisers and destroyers as well, but the strike arm of Sector Fleet 16 was performing escort for the detachment.

Aboard the rightmost Coriolanus, Jeanne d'Arc, her captain stood. Jeanne's systems had already completed the positive ID of the craft, and the vessels were maneuvering to make way- it was bigger of a vessel then they had expected.

"Send her a message relaying jump coordinates. We'll escort her to the jump point to allow her systems to cool down enough, then head straight there.

Code: Select all
SENDER: OCS-142 CFN JEANNE D'ARC RECIPIENT- CNS JUBILIE TRAFFIC- SECURE, NON/E MESSAGE= Greetings. This is the CFN Jeanne d' Arc, leading ship of the escort contingent. Our talks will be taking place on the planet of Titania. We expect a 3 hour jump from this system to Titania. We will escort your ship to a proper point within this system to allow for your engines to cool, and commence with the jump. Coordinates will follow this message. On arrival to the system, we request that you hold 10 AU from the solar center, where we will remain with you. An unarmed diplomatic vessel will transport any members of the delegation to the surface of Titania Primaris. You are permitted a reasonable amount of armed security detail with your delegation as you see fit. The Federal Republic will also be providing security and overwatch until you depart our space.

Once the message had been sent, the fleet maneuvered the battlecarrier to the jump position, and delivered them without incident to Titania Primaris. A world of blue and grey, it twinkled like a diamond in the midst. The fleet gave the Jubilie distance as the small diplomatic vessel approached. It was for the time unescorted, slowly approaching the Jubilie on its side.

Federal Republic of Corundum
-Corundum Federal Republic territory - High orbit above Titania
Diplomatic Mission CIC/Corundum- CNS Jubilie

The CNS Jubilie kept its respectable distance from its escorts, keeping its weapon and missile ports closed out of trust in their diplomatic stature. As the Diplomatic shuttle approached, the Jubilie sent docking confirmation and instructions as a large docking bay on its left flank opened up. A massive slab of armor tilted and retracted into the Heavy-Cruiser its hull, revealing the shimmering glow of a sheld that still protected that Hanger station. With a light flicker, it dissapeared and allowed the shuttle proper entry.

As the Shuttle landed, it was clear that the hanger bay had been carefully prepared for their arrival. The Confederate banner hung proudly from the cealing, still and silent in the void of the Hanger bay. Next to it, filling nearly the entire spacious hanger bay, large enough to hold atleast a dozen shuttles of varying sizes, were banners depicting the coalition members, the Antivar commonwealth, the Entente and the New Earth Federation. Next to that, were the various flags of the Confederate member states. An Honor guard of Confederate marines, numbering a forty men in full pressurised power armor, stood in front of a large entry door on the far side the hanger, their massive rifles planted firmly unto the ground as they stood at attention.

As soon as the shuttle confirmed its safe landing, did the shield flutter back to life and the Hanger bay was repressurised swiftly, causing the banners to flutter in the wind. With a comfortable air pressure and gravity restored, did a delegation walk into the hanger, passing through the honor guard, who raised their right hands into a salute as they passed. A middle-aged man in dress uniform, wearing the stripes of a rear-admiral headed the delegation, waiting at a fair distance of the shuttle, ready to greet their counterparts.

by **Legatia** » Sat Jun 09, 2018 7:27 pm

Federation of Corundum
Sector Fleet 16, Corundan Federal Navy
Aboard the diplomatic envoy vessel Green Leaf
Docked with Confederate battlecarrier CNS Jubilie
1.7 AU from solar center, Titania system

The captain of the diplomatic envoy was not a navy officer, but he still knew the potency of the vessel he faced as he approached it. Watching the massive armor retract into the ship as it approached gave him a sense of awe, even still as he glided into the hangar bay. The forward engines shut off as the repulsor arcjets flared, maneuvering the transport craft into the bay. The landing pads pushed from the hull, and the captain got a sense of the presence quickly- he noted the enormous flags here from various nations, and the one of the host central among them. The enormous suits of armor he saw only unnerved the poor man more as he set down the craft, the engines pulsing hot and ceasing their emissions. The rayshield behind them flickered as atmosphere flooded the hangar, the flags flying before them.

From the bay of the ship, the clamshell door opened and extended a ramp outwards. The Corundan counterpart to the honor guard here was meager at best. 16 members of Naval Security, clad in blue-painted armor, filed out to the front of the craft, armed with service rifles. Their suits were not the hulking things the Confederate marines had, merely exoskeleton augmented and with minimal life support. From within the bay, the ship offered its head of the delegation- two men, walking side by side. One was done in a politician's garb, a short cloak resting about his shoulders. The other was in the dress greys of a vice admiral, cap square upon his head. Following behind them, in similar attire to the politician, was a blonde-haired woman of relative youth for her position among the delegation.

The Naval Security snapped to attention only as the vice admiral stepped off the ramp, their rifles snapped to port with absolute precision, a unified snap resounding across the hangar bay as they stepped through the Naval Security members, the Vice Admiral extending his hand to the Confederate counterpart. "On behalf of the Federal Government of Corundum and its people, I welcome you. I am Vice Admiral Metellus Ularren. Beside me is Secretary Johnson Thrush, and behind me is Secretary Lucia Rouexe." Grasping the Admiral's hand, he gave him a firm shake before rescinding it. "We will transport any of your party onboard the vessel behind me planetside."

A brief exchange between the two brought the parties aboard the vessel, which quickly began to ascend and depart the battlecarrier. As they exited the aegis of the battlegroup, four fighter craft formed alongside the Green Leaf as it began its descent into Titania. A short skip through the atmosphere brought them to the capital of the world, Thesia. Thesia was a rather cool city, sat on crags and plateaus near an enormous waterfall. The city was one of steel and glass, clean and precise and near impersonal as the planet itself often was. The vessel came onto a landing pad with a gentle halt, the shocks absorbing most of the impact. Papparazo lined the lower decks below the pad, snaps firing up at the vessel as it came to landing. City police with shotguns and sub-machine guns, supplemented by FDSG members with rifles and heavier weapons, guarded every angle as the delegation was escorted off. The building ahead of them was a glittering white construction, with towers and spires extending skyward. The delegation was escorted up into the spire by the security onboard, and led into a private meeting room- with windows enough to see, and a large table about them. The Corundans, entering the room first, quietly stood behind the chairs and awaited their counterparts to sit and begin.

by **Tysklandia** » Mon Jun 11, 2018 4:32 am

Legatia wrote:Federation of Corundum
Sector Fleet 16, Corundan Federal Navy
Aboard the diplomatic envoy vessel Green Leaf
Docked with Confederate battlecarrier CNS Jubilie
1.7 AU from solar center, Titania system

The captain of the diplomatic envoy was not a navy officer, but he still knew the potency of the vessel he faced as he approached it. Watching the massive armor retract into the ship as it approached gave him a sense of awe, even still as he glided into the hangar bay. The forward engines shut off as the repulsor arcjets flared, maneuvering the transport craft into the bay. The landing pads pushed from the hull, and the captain got a sense of the presence quickly- he noted the enormous flags here from various nations, and the one of the host central among them. The enormous suits of armor he saw only unnerved the poor man more as he set down the craft, the engines pulsing hot and ceasing their emissions. The rayshield behind them flickered as atmosphere flooded the hangar, the flags flying before them.

From the bay of the ship, the clamshell door opened and extended a ramp outwards. The Corundan counterpart to the honor guard here was meager at best. 16 members of Naval Security, clad in blue-painted armor, filed out to the front of the craft, armed with service rifles. Their suits were not the hulking things the Confederate marines had, merely exoskeleton augmented and with minimal life support. From within the bay, the ship offered its head of the delegation- two men, walking side by side. One was done in a politician's garb, a short cloak resting about his shoulders. The other was in the dress greys of a vice admiral, cap square upon his head. Following behind them, in similar attire to the politician, was a blonde-haired woman of relative youth for her position among the delegation.

The Naval Security snapped to attention only as the vice admiral stepped off the ramp, their rifles snapped to port with absolute precision, a unified snap resounding across the hangar bay as they stepped through the Naval Security members, the Vice Admiral extending his hand to the Confederate counterpart. "On behalf of the Federal Government of Corundum and its people, I welcome you. I am Vice Admiral Metellus Ularren. Beside me is Secretary Johnson Thrush, and behind me is Secretary Lucia Rouexe." Grasping the Admiral's hand, he gave him a firm shake before rescinding it. "We will transport any of your party onboard the vessel behind me planetside."

A brief exchange between the two brought the parties aboard the vessel, which quickly began to ascend and depart the battlecarrier. As they exited the aegis of the battlegroup, four fighter craft formed alongside the Green Leaf as it began its descent into Titania. A short skip through the atmosphere brought them to the capital of the world, Thesia. Thesia was a rather cool city, sat on crags and plateaus near an enormous waterfall. The city was one of steel and glass, clean and precise and near impersonal as the planet itself often was. The vessel came onto a landing pad with a gentle halt, the shocks absorbing most of the impact. Papparazo lined the lower decks below the pad, snaps firing up at the vessel as it came to landing. City police with shotguns and sub-machine guns, supplemented by FDSG members with rifles and heavier weapons, guarded every angle as the delegation was escorted off. The building ahead of them was a glittering white construction, with towers and spires extending skyward. The delegation was escorted up into the spire by the security onboard, and led into a private meeting room- with windows enough to see, and a large table about them. The Corundans, entering the room first, quietly stood behind the chairs and awaited their counterparts to sit and begin.

[quote="Legatia";p="34169118"]Confederacy of Independant Colonies - Diplomatic Envoy
Federation Titania Colony
1.7 AU from solar center, Titania system

Vice Admiral O'neill sat comfortably at the table, seemingly unfazed by the security that had escorted him planetside. He had only been on leave once since his posting in fleet group Eisenhower and the Federation colonies that he had visited during that time had left a bad taste in his mouth. Their were decadent and vice-covered Confederate colonies, but the federation seemed to take pride in the matter. Stepping foot on a more sane colony world was a welcome change of pace.

Behind him stood a humanoid droid, a protocol droid to aid in the nuances of translation and cultural bridgelaying. O'neill had been briefed swiftly on the Federation and their customs, but the bull-headed man had ignored or forgotten most of the droids "nagging". As their hosts took their seats, O'neill his additional compangions, a pair of naval officers sat down aswel, he began speaking soon after.

"I apologise for our mode of transport, but requisitioning a diplomatic craft from the core-colonies would be difficult, it would have delayed our visit for weeks. The CNS Jubillie needed a good rundown after a revision three weeks ago, so it seemed a more practical choice. And with the Tagali on the prowl, it seemed the safer choice aswell. You never know with those big blue bastards."

As O'neill spoke, the protocol droids next to him seemed to gasp at his blatent disregard of diplomatic norms and almost began uttering indignant complaints, if the robot would be human, its face would have likely turned bright red in embarresment.

"I will be frank and clear as to why the Confederacy has come here. Our situation hasn't changed as to why our official relations have never grown. The distance between our two nations is too large for stable trade and their hasn't been a safe trade route in decades. Our spheres of influence do not clash or interact, they never have. But the situation of our laissez-faire relationship has become untenable... I am sure you are aware that the second Tagali war has begun and if the coalition loses that war, the days of your Federal Republic will be numered. We don't need to be foreign diplomacy experts to know that."

With those words spoken, one of O'neill his attendents placed a small box on the table, which unfolded and began projecting a small holographic map of the south-east quadrant of the galaxy. Across the borders of the nations that bordered the Tagali Empire were a mass of red dots, some even ventured far beyond.

"The agression of the Tagali was aparant during the first contact war that nearly ended the freedom of our species. They have not changed their ways after the war ended. They have rebuilt their armies, their fleets and their raids have never ceased. The Coalition is the only thing that stands between the free nations and a reborn Tagali Emperium and everybody knows it."

As the read-admiral said those words, the borders of the Coalition nations began coloring the same dark blue, with the Ostian and Tagali Empirial borders coloring dark, omnious red.

"Now, As a fellow terran nation, as survivors of the first Tagali war, it is our duty to stand against a renewed attempt to crush our collective right for self determination. To save untold billions from death and enslavement, the Confederacy is here to propose equal-membership to the Coalition, to join us in our crusade to end the Tagali threat once and for all. We are not here to beg for your aid, we are here to present the federation with a clear choice to do the right thing."

The protocol droid behind him began shuffling on its feet, obviously outraged at the rear-admiral his words and sheer emotional blackmail of the Corundum representatives. But it relented... The damage had been done.

by **Korhal IVV** » Mon Jun 11, 2018 7:11 am

[quote="Tysklandia";p="34011193"][quote]

As the Talarians shuffled towards the cells, they would occasionally growl in their own tongue. Sometimes one or two would whisper curses, while others said prayers to the gods. Each if them sat down in their cells, lifeless eyes staring out into the void. Talarians, being a race driven by cold logic as well as unstoppable will, were probably thinking ways of escape by now. But no matter how much they reasoned in their minds, they would come to the same conclusion. Without their weapons and armor, even they, the willfull Talarians who watched the younger races from afar, have little chance of escape. Calculating the odds, they arrived at a scant chance of 4.87% chance of survival in case they did try to break out, which is, frankly, a risk that is illogical to take. Even the few aliens amongst them had little choice but to comply. There was no reward in death, after all, and it seemed they were being treated fairly so far.

They then awaited for the questions that will be thrown at them by an interrogator. For the Talarians, sons of the stars, were on the lower end this time.

The Citadel - Saruf

Within the greatest station of the Technocracy, the High Lords gathered for the 1729th time since time immemorial. Governors of each of the ten thousand worlds under the domain of the reptilian lords of the galactic northwest, the High Lords led the Technocracy whilst being led by the Grand Exarch, their leader. The 153rd Grand Exarch is Zarakiel Kazenuki, the Black Dragon. Successor to Gotrek Starbreaker, Zarakiel has enacted new measures, which were readily supported by the High Lords. The Technocracy has began expanding at a frantic pace. The years of isolation and passiveness to galactic affairs has caused the inner worlds to become crowded, and as the Talarians rode out to the outer rims of their territory, they found numerous worlds ripe for colonization. Thousands of colony ships have departed from the inner worlds, accompanied by innumerable Tech Guard forces and Stella Auxilia. They found some of the worlds of the frontier inhabited by rather primitive civilizations comparable to the Modern Age of humanity. Instead of the threats that Gotrek was so infamous for, Zarakiel commanded that the colonization initiative initiate peaceful contact with such civilizations and hopefully uplift them, just like how the Technocracy did so for thousands of years until Gotrek came to power. Under the mad Starbreaker, hundreds of worlds and billions of innocents were annihilated, with planets being given only minutes to surrender.

Meanwhile, the Crusade of Seven Legions, having already smashed deep into Ascendancy space, suddenly departed from their campaign without warrant to their erstwhile enemies. Zarakiel sued for peace in an effort to forego the crazed actions of his predeccesor, but the Ascendancy has been passive. There was no answer.

Despite this, Zarakiel still did not abandon the First Jump Initiative. With the lack of presence in the more southern regions of the galactic wheel, the FJI was a plan to establish a colony planet to serve as a commercial center and a new base out of which an entire Talarian colonial possession could be established. Fifty colony ships and two hundred warships were part of the FJI, and they were tasked with making their way to a certain planet that was confirmed to be perfect colony.

Thus they left.

The Technocracy has been remade anew. Its noble past has been restored, its honor regained. Hopefully, peace will return to that beleaguered realm.

by **Legatia** » Mon Jun 11, 2018 8:02 am

Federation of Corundum
Thesia, Titania Prime
Titania System
Within the Epsilon Tower

Ullaren sighed, resting his head on his hands. He knew full well the aggression of the Tagali- their incursions during the first war had killed millions. The battles of that war were still studied in military academies, experience used to build the Federal military to technological and numerical heights that it still maintained today.

"I understand your position is dire, Vice-admiral, and crushing the Tagali is certainly a morally justifiable casus belli. However, we can't go to war based on what's morally right. Cordelia would never have it." He shook his head. "Putting it quite simply, the possibility that it could come here too isn't going to be enough. Our navy's strong enough to hold off any incursion after the first war, and our industries would take months, if not a year or two, to re-gear towards war."

Secretary Thrush, by his side, motioned for a moment. "..That said, this war offers us opportunities. Vice Admiral, I've been endowed with full powers to offer terms to you. I think we can make an agreement that will make this beneficial." With a pause, he glanced from the window as a slight rumbling shook the building, gentle enough not to be worrisome, as a ship grazed by in the distance.

"If we enter into the war in full force, joining your Coalition, we want a promise to be allowed to make for the creation and protection of secure trade routes from the Republic to the other members of the Coalition. And.. if we fight in this war, I would think it would be to a finish. We cannot leave them battered and bruised like last time. If we commit, I want their Imperial family deposed of. They will know their place among the galaxy." He nodded. "..In addition, should we enter into this war,we would think it reasonable that we might study the technological advancements, specifically military, medical, and industrial, of the Coalition member-nations on a piece by piece basis, given they are not classified or restricted technology, so we can further our own warmachine for the fight." Thrush gave a nod to the Admiral, glancing at the map. "..You give us that, and the Federal Republic will declare war on the Tagali Empire.

Depths of Space:Galaxy Reborn (FT/Open/IC)

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