Si vis pacem...(ft, mwg)

[Mini Miehm]

"Captain, we have another convoy on approach." In some navies, the rating would have provided some commentary, or insight. Not in the Directorate Special Task Group. Decisions were made by officers, reports were made by ratings.

"Mr. Schmidtt, bring us about to cross their track approximately here. Inform Seraph squadron that they will target the escorts. We will emerge oncevthe missiles are away to draw their attention until it is too late." Captain Rogers was a bit of an oddity in the STG. Other than a single brush with piracy in his early career, he had a nearly spotless record. It was that brush with piracy that had given him this command however, and he could not bring himself to regret it, no matter the cost.

"Yes sir. Laying in intercept at designated coordinates." The ship surged as it moved out under stealth. The newest class of cruisers had an enhanced warp drive, and could create microjump points, allowing them to go FTL, even while cloaked. It was quite some ways to the point indicated, but with the ships on a predictable track towards the local gas giant, intercepting them would be a trivial matter, especially since they were limited to sublight, and Schmidtt was not.

The two Wights selected to eliminate the escorts fired almost simultaneously, their deadly missiles slipping through the void without betraying their presence in reality. Until they had almost reached their targets, their signature would be minimal, but still noticeable by a wary crew. Once they were close enough to strike they would be impossible to miss as their onboard cloaking devices ran out of energy, but by then it would be too late.

"Excellent. Mr. Scmidtt, drop the cloak. Mr. Ewell, paint the frigates with our targeting sensors if you would." If the pilot didn't do much with a stealth cruiser like the Blackhawk, it wwould be easy to miss among the stars, even without its cloaking field active. When the gunner activated their targeting sensors however, every warning alarm on those ships was sure to go off, which was the intention.

The hull of the cruiser seemed to crackle and shimmer as the visual and electronic cloaking fell away. It looked superficially like a cutdown battlecruiser, except that its flanks were studded with missile pods, and its forward hammerhead sported only six medium burst laser turrets to engage with. As soon as it appeared its weapons twisted and shifted, questing for targets among the mass of merchant ships.

Code: Select all

Attention merchant vessels.  You will immediately cease forward motion and heave to to accept boarding parties.  Any attempt to flee or resist will be met with deadly force.  You have five minutes to comply.

The message was short and simple, and it went out to every ship in the convoy, including the escorting frigates. The medium lasers were relatively, but even relatively light was heavier than what the merchants had.

'Mr. Ewell, lock them up in case they attempt to flee." It was fairly common for the merchants to think that the cruiser could not possibly catch all of them. And in many cases they were correct. Unfortunately for them, these commanders had no qualms about simply destroying their engines, and salvaging the hulks.

"Yes sir, laying in firing solution." The gunner was a good man, and had in fact prepared firing solutions for each ship they could detect as their returns solidified. Laying them in was simply a matter of pointing the turrets.

The ship had emerged only a fraction of a light second away from the merchant convoy, well within their own weapons range, and probably within range of the frigates guarding the fragile merchants. One draussenboote wasn't a large threat to two frigates in an open fight, but this was not going to be an open fight.

In point of fact, it was unlikely to be any sort of fight. The two torpedoes that had been launched by the supporting ships flashed into reality less than five kilometers from the hulls of the frigates, accelerating at nearly five hundred meters per second. With their attention riveted firmly elsewhere, not even superhuman reflexes could save them from the mass of antimatter about to ravage their frail hulls.

OOC: It has been predetermined that this is a Red Talons merchant convoy. If anyone else is interested in getting raided by the DOminion Raumflotte, you know where to find me.

[Red Talons]

Moments before...

The frigates Gleaves and Ingham moved with the six heavy freighters through the void. The convoy had its shields down, and while the frigates were being vigilant it is hard to prepare for something you don't see coming. On the bridge of the Ingham, captain Rok was relaxing in his command chair. Their only warning was the abrupt collision alarm.

The two frigates had next to no time to react. One of the frigates began to alter course, just enough for the torpedo to impact off center. Two of the four engines burning out, the other two flickering sporadically. The second frigate, the Gleaves, wasnt so lucky. The torpedo caught the sweet spot between the four primary engines, the flash of the torpedoes explosion caused the ships drives to instantly go dark. A moment later there was a series of small secondary explosions as the ship silently drifted along.

"Evasive manoeuvres! Sound general quar-hrk!" Rok was cut off as the ship rocked from the hit, propelling the Dooninra from his seat to the deck. He rolled onto his back and kicked himself up. "... Sound general quarters, shields up and weapons hot. Appraise fleet command of the situation. And will someone tell me what the fuck was that and where did it come from."

There was an array of affirmatives, the sensor officer speaking up with a rather miffed tone "Captain, unknown, they just... appeared behind us..."

"Damage report?" Rok asked, looking around the bridge to make sure everyone was ok.

"Torch drives three and four are offline..." Called navigation.

"Stern particle repeater destroyed." Called the tactical officer.

Rok growled, "Bloody cowards..."

The Ingham's shields came online, EM and gravity distortion creeping out to a distance of fifty kilometers from the frigate. Its weapon systems powering up as the sensor grid began actively scanning for targets. The Gleaves, on the other hand, was silent, the aft section was alight as plasma vented into space. The frigate trailing smoke as it drifted. The six freighters followed suit, engaging their shields and defence systems as well.

"Captain, I cant raise the Gleaves..." The communications officer said grimly.

"Unknown contact entering our plane." The sensors officer said, the holographic tactical display manifesting an incandescent red blip.

"Incoming transmission..." The communications officer said, Rok gave a nod to play it.

As the message played, Rok's frown grew into a grimace. "I hate pirates..." He growled, a few wisps of darkness licking up from his shoulders as he clenched his fists. "Alright... We're going stealth... They want the convoy... Tell the convoy to stand down, let them board."

Rok sat back in his chair, letting the wisps of darkness grow. The lighting on the ship shifted to red, as the shadows got darker. A collective chill ran through the crew as the shift happened. Outside, the black hull of the frigate, back-lit by the systems star in soft orange light. A flash of IR lasers shot from the frigate to the freighters. Then the frigate's form began to fade away. Within seconds it had vanished, wisps of shadows licking along the hull as it did.

The six freighters slowed to a 'halt'. As much as was possible relatively. The Gleaves continued to drift on, the light of its spinal mount starting to fade from its normal soft blue glow.

[Mini Miehm]

"Excellent. Mr. Schmidtt, bring us closer so we can send across the prize crews." There was a bittersweet quality to his tone as he spoke. Captain Rogers had been old enough to remember a time before the Special Task Group, and before his own indiscretions. Of course, it was that same incident that had returned him to service, this time with a loyalty chip implanted in his skull, so it was impossible for him to complain too much.

The Blackhawk surged through space as they closed with the surrendered merchants. What would come next was unfortunate, but necessary. The boarding crews would take over the ships and they would be returned to the Directorate for sale. It was an odd government that was forced to support itself by piracy, but times were dire all through Terran space, especially with the resurgent Federation so nearby.

The half dozen Wights that had made this attack possible were still floating in the void under cloak. Captured Federation and Protoss technologies had led to the development of this upgraded Wraith fighter. These were barely approved for service, and the entire first run had gone to the STG. They had upgraded generators and cloaking devices, rendering them even harder to spot. Their drives and weapons had been upgraded as well. The outdated burst lasers of the Wraiths had been replaced with a more powerful, but somewhat less stable, laser cannon. The missiles had also been upgraded, carrying heavier warheads with a longer powered range. Even the drives had seen improvements, being nearly half again as fast as their predecessors.

"Command, this is Seraph six. We're at less than ten minutes remaining in stealth. All targetss appear to be neutralized. Permission to deactivate?" Warrant Officer Fourth class Scott Haarkness was the leader of the strike. He was personally only a mediocre pilot, but behind the controls of his Wighht, he was a match for anything else on the battlefield. Normally he would have waited for their stealth fields to run entirely down, but if anyone happened along in the middle of this, he wanted to be able to disappear, and powering down would give his generator time to recharge some.

"Harkness, this is Blackhawk. Permission granted. First rounds on us when we get back." The pilots had earned it. Their missiles had done the trick perfectly, crippling one frigate immediately, and taking only a few moments with the second. Thanks to their skill, things were going to be easier for everyone involved.

The six fighters crackled and shimmered as they returned to sight. Their bodies were sleek, and their downturned wings concealed racks of missiles. Each fighter carried only six of the deadly antishipping weapons, but that was more than enough to destroy this entire convoy. "All right slim, I'll hold you to that. You know I never drink chheap."

The price wouldn't matter that much. This haul was worth millions, and even if every man only got a fraction of a fraction of that value, they still ended up with a decent pile of cash.

Marine Country, Stealth Cruiser Blackhawk:

"We've got six prizes to secure. As usual, we are working right to left across the display. Squads go in order, first through third from first and second platoon. Weapons stay behind. There won't be enough room in there to use the big guns anyway. Now hop to." Despite being a first lieutenant, James Candless had alot in common with his men. He was in command of first platoon, and other than tne small rank insignia on the inner surface of his gorget, his armor was indistinguishable from his mens. They were much alike in build as well. The Marines of the STG were all close to six feet tall, heavily muscled, and totally bald. Their armor was painted a stark black, with no rank or unit tabs anywhere on it.

One of the reasons for the black armor was secrecy. Officially the STG did not exist. Now, the STG was not quite a special operations unit. It had a different set of qualifications, and even the officers all met the same criteria. Most of them were violent felons, whether their crimes were committed while they were in the service or as civilians, they were all loyalty chipped prisoners. Most of them didn't really mind. They were given fairly free reign to indulge themselves in whatever vices they had, so long as it didn't hurt Directorate citizens.

The marines moved as units down to their shuttles, ten men to a shuttle. The interiors were spartan in the extreme. Their seats were plain metal, designed to lock the heavy armor in for the inevitably rough rides they were going to endure. Less than five minutes after the merchants stopped, the marines were in space. Five minutes after that, they were docking with their prizes. It only awaited to be seen what they had grabbed this time.

[Red Talons]

Bury, Heavy freighter.

"What do you mean they can't get anyone out here?" Screamed Ilra, a female Icatan.

"Fleet command says they can't spare any more forces than we were already assigned... And that we should be able to handle pirates." The communications officer said with a tone of exasperation.

Ilra shook her head. "Have the convoy lower shields and prepare to relinquish control. open a channel, general broadcast.

A transmission issued forth from the lead freighter in the line formation...

This is captain Ilra of the Bury. You are welcome to our cargo, but I request you allow our crew to evacuate. We are prepared to relinquish control of the vessels and cargo of this convoy peacefully, so long as you allow all hands to evacuate without incident.

The Ingham had moved away a few hundred kilometres, and came around to have a birds eye view from above the situation. From its location in the ethereal plane, it could receive transmissions, but not send. It was fully capable of launching an attack, though Rok thought better of it.

"Keep recording, I'd like to keep as many people alive as we can... If they're willing to let the crew go unharmed then I don't want to cause more trouble than is needed... Now where the hell is-"

"I'm here captain, what did you need?" The ship's first mate, and political officer, stepped onto the bridge.

"Ah, Ahlia, I want you to try and find out what the state of affairs is aboard the Gleaves. We weren't able to raise them on the com before we shifted." Rok explained.

Ahlia gave a slight nod, moving to her chair. Taking a seat, she closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind. She could sense many other sentience in the area. But she focused her attention on the Gleaves. "A lot of casualties... The captain is hurt, but alive. Most of the bridge crew is unconscious... Power is sporadic... Relkah says she has everything under control." The felari sighed, shaking her head. "There's nothing we can do."

Rok nodded, "Relkah will be able to handle herself..."


Meanwhile, aboard the Gleaves.

The bridge was a mess. Captain Relkah was stuck in her chair by a support beam, and the rest of the bridge crew were in various states of consciousness. She growled an incantation, her body enveloped by shadows, her black form stood up, flowing around the beam as she stepped to the side. The shadows withdrawing. She looked at the wound in her stomach. "Nothing too vital... I'll be fine for now." She muttered to herself. She made her way around the bridge, checking on and waking up the rest of them. The political officer was dead, as was the coms officer. She removed the first mates sword, slipping it into place on the opposite hip as her own. The sensors officer was splayed out on the floor, unconscious but alive. Relkah found navigations officer pinned under the same support that had impaled her. He was alive, had a broken arm, but alive. The tactical officer was also unconscious, having received a rather nasty electrical burn on one arm.

Once Relkah had what was left of the bridge crew up and coherent, she noticed a din of commotion coming from the ship's intercom on the wall. She activated the com, broadcasting throughout the ship as she shouted over the voices. "Attention all hands, attention all hands. Prepare to repel boarders... Make ready to scuttle the ship."

The commotion of voices chattering over the com momentarily silent. The garrison commander, Sergeant Ishthi responded. "Affirmative, my marines are already securing the vessel. Glad you could join us. I got a report a few minutes ago, said the bridge door was jammed shut, and no one was responding. Are you active?"

"Yes, I'm active, but half the crew here isn't. Is the secondary bridge-" Relkah responded, but was cut off mid sentence.

"Burned out, probably when whatever it was shoved itself up our ass. We're running mostly on backup power, I've got forty two active, plus another forty five crew accounted for in various states of active. Visibility is shit and hull integrity is compromised somewhere, so be careful when you open doors." Ishthi spoke quickly, the Merr's slight accent slipping in.

Relkah sighed, "Alright, the Ingham is shifted but still in the area. We need to get everyone together in the barracks."

Ishthi chuckled, a dry sound. "Alright, I'll put my men on it."

What Relkah didn't know yet, was that out of the hundred and fifty crew, plus seventy five marines, nearly a hundred were already dead. The torpedo had caused a back-blast of drive plasma, gutting a good portion of the aft decks, including primary engineering.

The ship's garrison commander however, was perfectly fine. Having been asleep in his bunk at the time of the attack, he had ample time to gear up. He had already assembled what was left of his platoon when the captains voice came over the com. The marines had already been deployed throughout the vessel to collect the wounded and secure the vessel.

[Mini Miehm]

"Mr. Tibbs, send the standard reply." This was probably the part he hated most about these missions, but secrecy took a priority over everything.

Code: Select all

Attention freighters.  We have received your message.  We have no use for you as anything other than sailors.  As such you will be permitted to abandon your ship under one condition.  You must select some from among you to remain behind to operate your vessels.  The rest will be permitted to leave in whatever small craft you may carry.

It was in fact a canned reply. The possibility that ships would offer up their cargoes to save their crews had been considered and provided for. Secrecy was the goal, not mercy.

Marine shuttle, First Squad, First Platoon, Baker Company, STG Marines:

The shuttle shook as it latched onto the first freighters docking clamp. The fit wasn't perfect, but these ships were designed to accomadate a variety of connections, and they had fairly sophisticated systems to ensure the seal didn't fail.

"Up and at em boys." The sergeants voice was harsh, like he had been using tobacco for the last fifty years, despite the fact that he was only thirty, and had never smoked a day in his life. He was in fact an incredibly lucky man. One of only three known men in the Directorate who had been exposed unporotected to hard vacuum, and survived. His place had been earned here by murder. After his unfortunate space walk, it had been determined that the armourer had signed off on gear that hadn't been properly checked over. In retaliation, Sergeant Green had exposed the unfortunate sergeant to the same environment, without even a suit of armor. People still swore they could see the bloodstains on the bulkheads.

The first marine through the hatch was always the least senior private in the unit. That way if anything was waiting for them, it killed someone nonessential. The second man through was Sergeant James Green. In his armor he stood nearly eight feet tall, and weighed more than a quarter of a ton. His rifle was a bulky and ugly thing, with no sort of grace about it that some weapons had. At his hip rode an equally bulky looking pistol, and a blade that was too large to call a knife, but not quite large enough to be a true sword.

Sergeant Green gestured with his rifle towards the corridor behind the being which awaited them inside the ship. His sensors were reading hard vacuum, but that wasn't a massive issue with his marines encased in powered armor. "Alright. Whichever ones of you are staying get to your stations, the rest of you get the hell off this ship. It's ours now."

[Red Talons]

Bury, bridge.

"Captain, shuttles inbound." The sensors officer reported.

"They're responding." The communications officer spoke up a moment later.

Ilra nodded. "Play it."

As the response played, Ilra checked the progress of the security detail... Before she could finish, a slight shudder rippled through the ship. 'Good' She thought, that would be them scuttling the nav-com and jump core. A second shudder, that would be the inertial dampeners. She smiled as the transmission finished. "Alright, tell the rest of the convoy to engage tethers and proceed to abandon ship."

The communications officer nodded as the message was relayed.

Starting with the first freighter, and progressing down the line of six, grappling tethers fired from the aft of the ship, connecting to the bow of the next in line. Half a dozen cables per ship, the convoy was now conveniently linked for towing. A few moments later, the first of many escape pods began to disengage as the pirate shuttles were docking. Each of the six ships launching thirty pods each, which accelerated rapidly in all directions the moment they were clear of the hull.

The only boarding crew to encounter anyone was the team boarding the Bury.

Ilra stood defiantly as the doors opened. She was wearing her vac suit, the plastic bubble helmet providing a completely unobstructed view. Ovr the suit she wore a white robe, almost like a toga, with a belt sash. In zero G it was almost impossible to tell her gender except for the feminine pitch of her accented voice. "It hhas already been tahken khare of." A slight shudder ran through the deck as the last few pods were away. She turned and kicking off the deck to float casually down the corridor. Navigating in the zero gravity with a lithe, practised ease.

The bridge was somewhat in disarray. Cables had been run from the various stations to the commanders console. She took the seat, more than a little nervous. "Alrihht... whhere are we ghoink..." She asked, bringing up a galactic map. on the large holographic display. It showed the system they were in marked with a green dot, the map sitting at a modest zoom, showing the local 20 light-years of space.


Gleaves, Barracks.

"Is this everyone you could muster?" Relkah asked. The nearly hundred survivors were looking on with worry. The only ones not present were those tasked with making sure they were undisturbed.

Ishthi nodded slowly. "Aye, all others are K I A." He said as he removed a white grease-pen from a pocket of his power armour. He began to make arcane marks on the wall. Muttering to himself as he did so. Shadows seemed to writhe around his armored hand as he continued. When he was done writing, the runes formed an archway. The white marks glowing with a faint purple. As he finished the murmered incantation, shadows swirled together into the archway, a point of the purest darkness appearing in the center and spreading to the edges of the archway.

"Alright... The door is open." Ishthi panted, a trickle of black running down from the corner of his eyes and nose.

Relhak nodded, gesturing to the rest of the assembled crew. "Alright maggots, through the door, single file. Be sure to move clear once you're through."

The crew began to do as ordered, more than a few eyeing the archway with a mix of awe and intrigue.


Ingham, Bridge.

"Convoy's linked up... escape pods are launching." The sensors officer called out.

Rok nodded slowly, "Alright, track which ones are occupied. We'll swing around to pick them up later. Ahlia, what's the status on the Gleaves?"

Before Ahlia could respond, the captains com crackled to life. "Rok, this is Relkah, we're bringing everyone through now. We'll need medical support, barracks."

"Well... That answers that. Well, you heard the lady." He looked over at Ahlia, who shook her head and sighed as she engaged the ship's intercom.

"All medical personnel report to the barracks, we're taking on wounded." Ahlia spoke into the com. Switching it off, she looked back. "What about the pods?"

"We'll have to wait till whoever they are leave..."

[Telros]

When the Directorate strikeforce launched their assault on the Talon's convoy and slipped out of stealth, they were not the only ones in the system, nor the only ones employing stealth systems. Captain Leslie Arko sat in her command chair aboard the stealth frigate Asmodeus, and its two squadrons of Wraith Space Superiority Fighters. The frigate was a modified Olympian-class Attack Frigate, commonly used to strike out against enemy fleets. Here, however, a portion of their number had been quickly modified to serve as shadows on the Directorate's movements. They had been doing this for three years, ever since an encounter with a Directorate recon force at Brontes that ended bloodily. Ever since then, they have been skirting around each other, which was easier thanks to the distance between their territories, occasionally having vicious skirmishes.

The Federation despised the zealous unity of the Directorate, seeing them as wanting to destroy much of what was worth living for all just to be safe, and with the knowledge that the Directorate was not only disinterested by the loss they experienced in the Brood War, but were expanding hungrily, they began to put aside some of their differences and focus on unification and reconstruction. As they worked on ways to counter their old enemies, and to gain more information on them to do so, some temporary forces had to be created to fill the needs they had. As such, the stealth squadrons were created, under the supervision of Nova Squadron. They were not really capable of combat, other than doing very quick hit and runs, they were mostly to shadow any detected Directorate activity and watch.

Which is what Leslie had been doing for the past two weeks, until she had run out of leads at Marsa and finally had to admit defeat. While moving back to her squadrons headquarters at Dylar IV, she had come across sensor readings of Directorate warp signatures and proceeded to investigate. Upon transition, she was thankful operation procedure dictate they be stealthed at all times, for they had arrived to see a convoy of unknown vessels. This was a shock, as they had reports of other sentients existing outside their borders but they had never imagined they would be real. Many thought that they did exist, but had been consumed by the Zerg a long time ago. Here was evidence to show that they were wrong; then the sensors pinged as missiles were launched out, striking one of their vessels and a strike force decloaked. As they were recording the back and forth, Leslie discovered that the stealth tech was literally the same as theirs, the sensor data proved it. That cruiser was definitely Terran tech and design, the hammerhead too similar to their Battlecruisers to be anything else. She couldn't prove it yet, but she was damn certain the Directorate was involved with this.

However, anything above passive would give her away and she was not given the authority, or the armaments, to take on this force. Not to mention, judging from how the attack went, they had other stealth forces. She could be outnumbered 10 to 1 and not know it. And the Directorate had made it clear they would destroy Federation forces, if given a chance. Leslie couldn't do much more than watch and wait, bringing the news that the Directorate was raiding convoys now back to Command. They'd have a field day with this.

'Its times like these that I really wish we had alcohol on board.'

Leslie let her head hit the supporting chair cushion behind her, settling in to watch the attack unfold. This was going to take a while, even as the convoy responded and began linking their ships together and launching lifepods.

'Yep, could use some Dylar Red Glare right now...'

[Kreanoltha]

Sixteen Days ago
Charybdis/Agalthinus Binary Galactic Microcluster
Agalthinus Satellite system
Endur Tynari dwarf galaxy
System 9485, forth world

Five destroyers floated in what had been the orbit of the forth planet of system 9485. The entirety of the system was owned by the Medulus Mining Consortium. The planet crackers had done their work quickly. They had used massive gravitation fields to destabilize the planet and let its rotation rip it apart. It had taken a year to fully process the world, but they'd been able to do the work onsite. The worldships that Kreanolthans lived on now had changed planets from precious resources that had to be treasured to floating balls of raw material. Even agriculture used soil covered platforms rather than planets now. The last of the ore was loaded onto the massive cargo haulers. The hub that had brought them to this system began dispatching propulsion pods to them. Both the transport shuttles and the destroyers belonged to the Corinth Distribution Group. They were unmanned pods that were little more than repulsor drives and translight engines that magnetically clamped themselves to the ugly, oblong pods. They had only a rudimentary AI system they was slaved to the computers of the destroyers that herded them to their destination. Once the pods left. the removal of a planetary mass would have drastic effect of the orbital period of system 9485. It didn't really matter though. The system was in every way unremarkable. The gas giants had already been harvested. The effects of transitioning that mass into slipspace would also slow transit along that route for months, but it was already known, and their course was plotted to avoid disrupting transit along more commonly used routes.

After most of the ships had jumped away to various refineries in Kreanolthan space, five pods, holding titanium ore, and a single destroyer remained behind. This ore, about four million tons in total had been sold to a refinery in a small, titanium-poor state in the Milky Way. Even in bulk form, ore from this planet commanded a small fortune for its purity. The destroyer, the CGEV* Gladius Ignis, fired her repulsor drives and hung behind the cargo haulers. The destroyer class was designed for escort missions and was a juggernaut in its own right at mid-range combat. She carried a single spinally mounted MAC, which fired a one pound slug at .99c and was used at long-ranged combat, a ring of ten spinally mounted mid-range MACs that fired one-thousand ton rounds at .5c. They were used only between 50,000km and 5,000km. Her lateral lines were striped with a total of two hundred plasma turrets. Each turret was flanked four pulse laser turrets for point defense. She was running with its powerful shields down as it guided its four cargo haulers to safe distance, but she was still protected by its twenty meters of battleplate. She was painted black with deep, blood red accent lines on its angles and edges with the Corinth Distribution Group's logo on the bow before her name. Black and red, the Corinth Distribution Group's colors. The cargo haulers began jumping into slipspace. As soon as the last pod vanished through its roiling purple event horizon, the destroyer pulsed its translight drives and made the jump after the cargo haulers. It would take about a quarter of an hour for the convoy to travel the one thousand light years between the system and intergalactic space. From there it would be an eighteen day voyage before they would cover the 20,000,000 light years to their destination.

Now
Milky Way
Interstellar Space
Thirty Hours from Destination

A single frothing purple well of radiation appeared, and the black and red Gladius Ignis hurtled through, slowing itself quickly. She pulsed her active scanners three times. Seeing nothing its captain, Captain Elethias Delanis, ordered the cargo haulers out of slipspace. Four more slipspace ruptures tore into reality and deposited the ugly bulks into space near the destroyer. Captain Delanis leaned back in her command chair and lit a cigarette, wondering who she must have pissed off to "win" this mission. She was an elf, though on the short side at only 6' 6". With her blue hair and violet eyes, both exceedingly rare in elves, some people mistook her for a very tall provecti if she wore her hair over her pointed ears. She looked around the cramped, cockpit-like bridge and wondered what speculative fiction writer would think if they saw it. The only open space was around the tactical map projector in the center of the bridge. There was a holotank next to it for the AI to project its avatar. Other than that the various bridge officers were shoved into their station between stacks of crystal processing matrices that ran throughout the ship, providing the AI with a powerful brain so that it could manage the ships automated systems, process data on slipspace, plot the finer points of the destroyer's course, and run calculations on its firing solution. This AI was a little more reclusive then most. It preferred to communicate with the crew through the bridge terminals rather than through the holographic projector. Still every once and a while, usually at the request of Captain Delanis, it would project itself, in the form of an Edwardian gentleman. Everyone on board was trying to find a way to pass the time. It had been an uneventful voyage. The one thousand security personnel wondered why they were even aboard. Pirates were non-existent these days. The two hundred crewmen found anything they could tinker with to pass the time. Everyone hated the Milky Way. It was a gamma-ray washed behemoth compared to their own small, low density galaxies. The radiation meant that they had to drop out of slipspace more often to allow their drives to cool. What should have been a twenty-four hour run was stretched out to thirty. Some inexperienced captains would push their ships longer than their recommended nine hours. If they didn't learn from being yelled at by their supervisors, they would never survive learning the hard way. Some were atomized as they exited through malformed ruptures. Others got their entire crews killed by lethal gamma bursts on exit. Others were trapped in slipspace, unable to exit. They died long, agonizing deaths from dehydration and starvation as their supplies ran out. Captain Delanis was a veteran of the KRN, as were most sailors hired by transportation companies. She knew better than to push it. She sighed a smoky sigh. This would be a long trip.

*CGEV = Corinth Group Escort Vessel

[Mini Miehm]

"Shiney. Lay in a course for Zagat. It's over there." Sergeant Green pointed to a nondescript star towards the "north west" of the globe, fairly close to the outer edge. His earpiece was crackling with reports and orders from the rest of the squads assigned as prize crews. The only one that really mattered to him was the on directing everyone else to pull back to the cruiser. No need for prize crews on ships with no crews on them.

Being a fair person, Green sent half of his marines back to their shuttle, to relax while the rest stayed on guard against any funny business that might be tried. Green himself would rotate out with the first shift, since he believed thoroughly in keeping an eye on things himself. The three marines so selected would come to treasure their luck in the days to come, but that was for later. For now they were simply looking forward to having time to relax.

Seraph Squadron, Special Task Group:

"Six, I'm getting a flutter on my passives. Might be something out there." The Wight had upgraded sensor systems in addition to the rest of its improvements over the basic Wraith, but even those improved detectors weren't enough to pick up anything operating under cloak except as a flickering ghost of a reading.

"Lock it down. You know these things are twitchy as shit. You couldn't go active to pick it up anyway. We got work to do." Warrant Officer Harkness personally hated the new sensors. They were overly sensitive, and they had a bad habit of picking up on things tthat weren't there. His hands skimmed over the controls as he eased his bird back to full power. The escape pods were away, and the marines were heading back to their ship in preparation to head out, except for the squad on the still crewed lead freighter. Now it was time for the Wights to really earn their pay.

Six of the deadly and effectively invisible craft leapt back into motion almost simultaneously. There were easily a score of targets for each of them, but that wasn't saying much when the targets were unshielded lifeboats. Deadly beams of coherent light lanced from the fighters again and again, shattering the frail pods with wanton abandon, until every one was scattered wreckage.

The freighters departure had made it possible. The merchants fell for it every time. And once the string of ships arrived in Zagat, the fools that staayed behind would be quietly and efficiently shot. No witnesses could ever know exactly what the Directorate was doing out here.

Their mission complete, the fighters turned back towards their mothership, invisible as the wicked spirits for which they were named. Once they had returned to their formation, they engaged their warp drives one after another, seeking new prey.

The cruiser was the last to depart, lingering over the scattered wreckage in silent contemplation. Finally a buoy spat from one of the port missile tubes, marking the site of this atrocity for the following colliers to clean up. Its final task completed, the cruiser too engaged its warp drive, never knowing that their every action had been recorded by their most implacable foes.

[Red Talons]

Gleaves, barracks.

As the last of the crew funnelled through, Ishthi started the timed for the scuttling charges. He stepped through last, making sure the fire teams assigned to secure the ship made it through first. As he stepped through, the sigils flashed and the doorway sucked itself shut.

Fifteen seconds later, the Gleaves was consumed in a combination of fusion and antimatter reactions, leaving nothing larger than a softball intact.


Ingham, Bridge.

"Rok, everyone's aboard." Relkah's voice came over the captains com.

Rok nodded, but before he could speak, the sensors officer spoke up. "Captain, the freighters have just jumped out."

"Alright, lets move to start collecting pods." Rok said with a sigh.

"Shit... SHIT! Enemy craft, unknown type and number. They're attacking the pods." The sensors officer shouted.

Rok growled, the tactical officer began to target the cruiser before Rok stopped him with a snarl. "If you open fire without an order I WILL KILL YOU MYSELF, lieutenant. They still have hidden forces, revealing ourselves will only get us, and the survivors from the Gleaves, killed uselessly. Now stand down from your station before I collect your arm."

The tactical officer froze, blinking. The S'arr flattened his ears to his head before he stepped away. The first mate taking his place. Rok sighed, placing his head in his hands. "Continue recording, ready the slip-drive. Once they've left, we'll collect that beacon and leave..."


Bury, Bridge.

Ilra sensed that she wouldn't make it beyond the next system. She found solace knowing that everything that happened was being recorded. She laid in the destination. There was a soft hum as the drives powered up, anyone touching the deck could feel it. In front of the ship, a purple black maw opened wide, sucking the convoy into it before swirling shut.

Inertial dampeners served a non-vital role in slip-space travel. While the nearly twenty lightyear journey would take just shy of a minute. There wasn't any untoward effects on the 'crew'. They would however, experience a rather bumpy ride as well as feel the sensation of acceleration, all of the acceleration.

After the time had passed, the Bury, and the rest of the convoy erupted out of a similar black-purple maw of energy. Stabilising thrusters firing along the convoy to steady them after the exit.

A muted curse, then blinding pain. The shot was silent in the vacuum, at first Ilra thought she had been punched, but an instant later when her helmet burst open and she felt hard vacuum on her skin, she ruled that out.

There must have been a moment of disbelief. The Icatan's helmet popping like a balloon with the shot, flachette darts embedding in the skull, others tearing free the surface flesh. Silver blood welling up around the wound before its shine dulled, the resulting chitin sealing off the body from further blood loss. Where the flesh had been peeled away, bare grey-black shone through, cracked around where some of the darts embedded.

'Fight or flight! Hesitation gets you killed!' The voice of her physical trainer from school screamed at he after all these years. She acted, turning under a second shot as she rolled from the chair, PDW in hand. She fired the under-slung launcher. Unsure of who was in charge, she picked the one closest letting him taste a shrapnel shaped charge. Following up by dumping the ten round magazine of .55 ceaseless AP rounds into the next one. She sailed behind the navigation console, taking cover. Fluidly ejecting the spent magazine as she drew a small drum magazine from her robe. 'five minutes of rigorous physical activity before suffocation.' Her training reminded her. Her head was pounding, and she was almost glad she had chosen to buy sub-dermal armour. 'Quick and painless, or slow and agonising... Fuck em all, I die fighting.'

She stood, weapon shouldered. She felt the sting of impacts along her chest, but didn't care, she squeezed the trigger. Before she had even fully stood she felt her stabiliser implant kick in, injecting pain killers and stimulants. The pain in her abdomen disappeared, and she still didn't care. She fired quick bursts until her left arm was torn off. She still didn't care, she raised the weapon in one hand, holding the trigger even as a round ripped through her throat. She continued to hold the weapon aloft with all her rage, when the weapon clicked empty and her feet lifted from the deck, she closed her eyes. It felt nice to be weightless, the silence wasn't bad either. She felt tired, maybe she'd go to sleep, she thought. She wondered briefly how she would manage to sleep with people shoving her around...

[Telros]

"Ma'am, the lead frigate's power levels are rising, they'll be jumping soon."

Leslie nodded, sitting forward in her chair. "Very good, Lieutenant. The moment they leave, I want us decloaked and our Wraith squadrons deployed. We have a narrow timeframe of getting in there and finding out who was the victim, and more importantly, who was the attacker. Keep a close eye on our passive sensors; I want to know if any more decloak."

"Aye, aye ma'am."

She resumed her gaze on the tactical screen, which showed the frigate's FTL drive spiking and leaving the system with a bright flash and a large cloud of radiation. The ejected lifepods dangled helplessly in space, waiting to be picked up by the convoy's owners late on. It was all so quiet, and Leslie was thankful for it. Most pirates, government sanctioned or not, were usually quite ruthless, killing the crew, if not enslaving them or capturing them to be sold on slave markets, and ransacking everything. This group seemed more methodical and focused than most pirate groups; this furthered her suspicions as to who owned them, but she would wait for their departure before investigating that lead.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the sensors blared warning of more contacts as six fighters decloaked as they moved on attack patterns on the lifepods. The sensor signature tagged the ships as similar in design to the Wraith, but slightly different, not to mention the stealth signature was different. It was stronger and more refined than what they were using. If this wasn't the Directorate, Leslie would eat her hat. However, this new development left a difficult choice for her to make: the lifepods were numerous, with a air amount of people they could fit and they were littering the area where the convoy had been. There was upwards to a couple hundred or more innocent beings out there, who began to be exterminated as the enemy fighters began to destroy them with their lasers. However, while she had twenty-eight Wraith's available to her, the Asmodeus was still a frigate and that was a cruiser-class vessel over there, with several upgraded Wraith fighters. That would be a tough fight in any case, but she also didn't know if they had any more vessels in hiding. This might be all they had, but the Directorate would rarely unleash all they had, bringing up reserves when needed. She couldn't risk her mission, and the invaluable data she was recording, on the chance she could stop this.

Her hands clenched the handles of her chair until they were white with pressure, and her teeth gritted themselves. the sound of the friction resounding throughout the silent bridge. Tactical reached a hand out to her keyboard but Leslie's guttural voice stopped her.

"Don't even think about it, Lieutenant. It is a horrific thing to watch, a slaughter like this, but we have a duty to the Federation. We'll do more good getting the fact that they are doing this and confirmation that its them, than rushing out to engage them. Remain passive and cloaked, we are not going to intervene. That can come later."

The officer stiffened and then slumped back, defeated. There was a muffled sound to her right, the sobbing of her Navigations officer. Their crew did not come from just the veterans who manned the various state's own forces, but also new recruits and civilians who signed up. A sight like this was a blow to anyone, but it hit the newbies the hardest, as they couldn't internalize it yet.

'Just another reason to hate the Directorate and to see those bastards pay when their time comes.'

The slaughter finished in record time, the fighter's kills were quick, clean and efficient. Soon enough, they went back to board the cruiser and it moved forward into the debris field for a moment before dropping a buoy and then leaving. The FTL signature was nabbed and shown to be of definite Terran make, the warp radiation and sensor readings were identical to a T. That said, they had lost a lot of ships over the years and someone else could have nabbed it. They needed /absolute proof/ and they were going to get it.

Five minutes passed with no sign of any other forces and Leslie made her move.

"Tactical, prepare warp drive for emergency spin-up when I give the word, and ready to drop cloak. Active scanners are to focus themselves on the buoy and the wreckage. Record everything. Every chunk of metal, every corpse, every radiation spot, everything. Get me the utmost you can from that buoy. If you can't get everything, grab the damn thing even. If we can pin this on the Directorate, maybe we can get the Federation to do something about this. And get the pilots out and about. I want us to be ready for combat, if it comes."

"Aye, ma'am!"

With the idea of pushing the Federation to repay the murderers, the bridge stuff jumped into action. The Asmodeus' stealth field dropped, the ship appearing as if it was slowly coming into being from nothing and a short time later, twenty-eight Wraith fighters deployed, moving to secure the debris field and the buoy. The engines began to glow a bright blue as power was shunted to them and the frigate began to move closer to the buoy. Pings hit the object hundreds of times per second as it was covered, top to bottom, left to right, and information was being gathered. They did not anticipate that the convoy had its own stealth capable ship and that it was still watching their actions right now...

[Red Talons]

Snip

The Ingham slipped out of stealth at nearly the same time as the Asmodeus, though due to light lag, neither would realise it for about thirty seconds...

"Re-established link with fleet command, they're asking for a status update." The communications officer said, holding back a tone of distress from what they had witnessed.

"Tell them some back up would have been nice half an hour ago!" Rok snarled, "Lets go collect an-" He was cut off mid sentence.

"Captain, picking up multiple contacts. Looks like twenty eight strike craft, plus one vessel." The sensors officer called off, routing the data to the holographic display.

Rok frowned harder, if such a thing were possible. "Any idea who they are?"

"Umm... The fighters have a similar silhouette to those used by the raiders, the larger vessel is of similar make. They're running active scans on the buoy and debris field." The sensors officer responded.

"Alright, let em know we're here with active sensors. Bring weapons online and acquire targets. Hold fire till my order. Bring us over to where the manned pods were going but keep our primary attack vector on them... And open a channel..." The captain stood, wiping a small droplet of black fluid that had trickled from his nose.

The Ingham's hull was illuminated in ghostly blue light as its spinal mount cycled up to full power. Missile tubes and point defence turrets slid open and locked into place. The ships shields engaged almost simultaneously, a distortion field extending out fifty klicks from the ships hull. Undoubtedly, it wouldn't be long before the Federation vessels noticed the active scans, radar and lidar acquiring their ships. A broadcast issued forth, basic video and audio, as the ships drives engaged, a gravitic distortion pulling it along at a steady clip towards one of the debris clusters. Passive sensors sweeping the debris for organics.

The Dooninra stood, the view only catching his head and upper torso. Black uniform and red square patches on each side of the collar of his robe. His grey and brown fur illuminated by the bridge lights. He glared at the camera, a flicker of purple light in his eyes. Every part of his expression and tone conveyed grim and serious rage. "This is kaptan Rok of the frigate Ingham. On behalf of the Technokrasy of Red Talons I demand that you identify yourselves and your business here. If you do not, I will Kill. You. All. Without hesitation." He was silent for a moment, before the transmission ended.

"That might not have been the best way to handle that Rok..." Ahlia said, looking over from the tactical station.

Rok flicked his head slightly. "I'm done with diplomacy. Do we know if anyone survived?"

Ahlia frowned, but turned her attention back to the tactical station. The sensors officer spoke up a few moments later. "I'm reading... Fifteen... twenty.... thir- no, forty-five. That's forty-five contacts, Plus another thirty faint ones."

Rok nodded, "Alright, Muster up some of the marines from the Gleaves, and some of our own, get ready to retrieve them once we've dealt with these raiders."

The sensors officer spoke up. "I dont think they're raiders, they're flying colours we've not encountered yet, and their fighters aren't entirely the same. Its possible they're tracking the raiders."

"It's also possible this is the mop up force picking through the wreckage while their buddies strip the freighters." Rok said with a growl. "But I want to know what they have to say for themselves before they die."

[Mini Miehm]

The cough of the flak pistol was muted in the vacuum of the ship. The only way sergeant Green heard it in the first place was through sound transmitted up the neo-steel arm of his suit, and very faintly, to his ears. The blast was devastating. These shells could punch through armor at short range, and were specifically formulated for use by marines in their CMC armor. Sergeant Green had very few flaws as a soldier, but one of them was complacency. Despite his insistence on careful action and preparation with his men, he had subconsciously denegrated the threat posd by the lone captain..

The blast from the shrapnel charge was surprising. It didn't actually do too much, explosives being of fairly limited utility in vacuum, but it did make a dacent distraction, causing all of the marines to look towards their squad leader, rather than their target. Private Holmes went down hard, the first magazine of rojnds tore out the right knee of his suit, sending him sagging off balance.

Return fire crackled around him as e wirithed in pain, gauss spikes blistered the air in tight bursts, the fire controlled by the weapon rather than by the soldier with his finger clamped down on the trigger. Bullets sparked and skipped off of the marines armor like hail. Their joints were vulnerable, but ttheir chests and other armored plates shrugged off the onslaught. Suddenly time seemed to slow, and he let out a gasp of satisfaction. The stimpack dispensers built into the suit had activated, sending a powerful cocktail of drugs into his systtem.

Bullets seemed to simply crawl through the air as private Holmes' found the special recessed trigger built into his rifle, and gave it a sharp tug. The grenade arced out with speed that nearly equaled that of the bullets flashing out of every gun, set to impact detonation. The blast was silent in the airless bridge, but the results were spectacular. A blast that could buckle marine armor stripped the flesh from bone and tore a gaping hole in the still fighting captain. The minor gunbattle continued for a few more seconds, but all of the shooting stopped relatively shortly thereafter. "Ahhh... Thats the stuff."

Within the hour the ships had been turned over to the relevant authorities for examination andd disposal. The squad was going to be out of action for the foreseeable future, but that was fine by them. They couldn't rejoin their ship until the next scheduled stop here in two weeks. It was going to take at least that long for Holmes to get fixed anyway, even with modern medical facilities they would have to essentially rebuild his knee, and that took time.

Treskill System, Special Task Group Squadron "Seraph":

"Command, we have another taker." It had been three days since theiir lucrative haul, and they looked to have another one right in front of them. One warship to guard that many freighters? Even at a full kilometer in length it wasn't enough. Not against the forces at the disposal of the STG.

"Copy that Seraph. We have them on passive. They look pretty heavily armed. See what you can do to fix that." The command made perfect sense. Disarming the warship would make it easier to capture intact. And with just one target they could afford to take their time and do things right.

The six cloaked Wights moved into position, forming up loosely around the ship, before accelerating hard and launching missiles for all they were worth. The point of the rapid acceleration was to prevent someone backplotting them from their missile traces. There were thirty six missiles between all of the fighters, and each one was targeted against a different weapon position. Beams of coherent light stabbed through the void to rake the enemy further, slamming into yet more batteries, or targeting communications and sensor equipment, blinding and muting their opponent.

Each fighter was individually weak, but they were persistent, and they had time on their sides whether they knew it or not. With the need of the ships to cool their drives, they had no hope of avoiding the murderous pinpricks of the fighters. It was only a matter of time.

The message, when it finally came, came from nowhere, but it said everything that needed to be said.

Code: Select all

Attention vessels, you will power down your weapons, disable your targeting computers, and cut your engines.  Heave to and prepare to be boarded.  You will not suffer any harm at our hands if you comply immediately.  Resistance will be met with death.  You have five minutes.

[Kreanoltha]

Milky Way
Treskill System
Corinth Distribution Group Convoy
CGEV Gladius Ignis, 1:45 into cool down cycle

Captain Delanis yawned as her watch stretched on. She wasn't actually tired. Elves had little need for sleep. She was bored as hell though. The full ashtray next to her was testament to that. One lieutenant was slumped over in his chair. She couldn't tell if he was awake or not. The large, metal pillar housing the ship's computers blocked her view. She really didn't care. He was the coms operator and there wouldn't be anything over the com for another day. After another then minutes she got tired of being bored and kicked the slumbering lieutenant. He bolted upright and looked around. "Good thing you got up," she said. Her voice was moderately pitched and fair. "I'd have made you drop and give us twenty if you hadn't." It was a lame joke, but it was all they had left to do. Anyway, it was only another hour before they could jump. Not that the jump would be anymore entertaining, but at least they'd be moving. "Ugh..." he sighed. "Way to go skipper. I was totally shagging some babe in that dream. Don't suppose any of you..." There were five male and three female officers crammed onto the bridge no including the Captain. All four shook there heads. "I'm not that desperate." the navigation officer quipped. He sighed. "You never are." "Sometimes I think that's all you think about Evarus." their AI, Solonus, said to the coms lieutenant. He appeared in his projection as a young Greek merchant wearing a toga. Evarus cycled through the freqs a few more times just to confirm what the captain already knew. "There is absolutely nothing out here skips. If there were giant space amoebas they would avoid this place too." "Not even a rock," the nav officer contributed. "Shall I raise the shields to protect us from this nothing?" the defense combat operations officer asked. "Yeah right. I'm not taking the hit for losing a pound of pentium more than I need to." If she hadn't magnified the luminosity of the viewscreens, she would have thought they were still in slipspace -- that was the wrong name for it, but she couldn't think of the technical for it. She was a mercenary. What did she care? As long as she didn't suck up too much fuel and the merchandise got to its buyer she was going to clean up on the fee for a forty-day long-haul.

Twenty Minutes Later

Captain Delanis was leaned far back in her chair, eyes flickering as she slept lightly. Evarus was fighting the urge to kick her out of her chair like she had to him. He settled on nudging her shoulder a few times to wake her up. She'd just gotten five hour two weeks ago. She shouldn't even be a little tired, not for another week at least. "Thanks." she mumbled as she sat up. She lit another cigarette, hoping the nicotine would pull her through the last forty five minutes of cool-down. She tried to find some routine that would keep her awake. She couldn't remember how she stood these runs, but she'd logged eighty of them; most of them were probably while she was asleep. The Milky Way might be huge and teaming with life, but it was boring. Most of it was empty and a lot of the so-called great races of this galaxy were little more squabbling warlords. She pinged the sensors a few times to keep herself occupied. Oddly there were a few transient pings. Probably just radiation from some star. Still, never hurt to check. "Solonus, do these look like anything?" "No captain. I can't find anything either." That settled it. There was nothing out there. She believed it right to the point that the Gladius Ignis rolled forty five degrees to starboard and then back to port in a single violent upheaval. Even worse was the series of explosions that shook the stern. Captain Delanis was doubled over on her control panel, shoved forward by the stern blast. She managed to hit the emergency condition zero button on her control panel all the same. Life support, artificial gravity, and numerous other systems were deactivated while the reactor was redlined and the shields were raised. She straightened herself up just in time to watch to watch the shields be stripped to seventy percent.

In the convoy's orbit, this played out on a larger scale as thirty-two missiles, sixteen on each side, slammed into plasma turrets. Secondary explosions brought the total of destruction up sixty plasma turrets and two hundred and fifty lasers. Four more missiles found different targets. They slammed into the space between the two ventral repulsor drives. Even with the shields raised this was a weak-spot as shielding couldn't cover the drives without containing their thrust. The port and starboard drives destabilized and exploded, propelling their mounts into the destroyer, cutting fuel lines and destroying primary stern power relays. Flames billowed from the two holes. The shock of the explosion had pushed the stern up twenty degrees. Secondary power relays came online while fuel was redirected to secondary lines. The laser grid came alive, chasing down contacts as they appeared. The problem was that the destroyer couldn't cut through the fighters' cloaks.

"Report!" Delanis shouted over the den of confusion on the bridge. She was typing in lines to stabilize the Gladius Ignis and reboot Solonus. "Ma'am, turrets are ready to fire. Point defense laser grid already firing. Shields holding steady. Solonus is back on line." "Good new now?" "That was the good news. Sublight is shot. Five minutes to restoration. We are on maneuvering thrusters only. Long and mid weapons are off line. Estemated time to repair five hours. The stern is burning and leaking atmosphere. We can not get a fix on the enemy. Shields are being drained at five percent per minute." Delanis sighed. This was what she got for wishing for a more interesting job... She opened up the intercom. "Marines, stand by to repel boarders! Engineering, restoration of sublight is top priority." The blips were always to close for the MACs to have been any use anyway. The plasma turrets were firing now. Their reserves of plasma from the reactors were only just now high enough for sustained fire. They should have had the plasma generated by sustained long and mid range fire waiting for them, but then stealth was not something the Kreanolthans were acquainted with. Every ship they'd ever encountered registered like a sun on their scopes. Bolts of plasma raced from the odd looking, turreted, astrolabe-like devices, chasing ghosts and sensor glitches, looking for something to burn into. By chance, one of them locked onto a fighter, only to loose it after chasing it for a few thousand meters. "Incoming message." Evarus reported.

Attention vessels, you will power down your weapons, disable your targeting computers, and cut your engines. Heave to and prepare to be boarded. You will not suffer any harm at our hands if you comply immediately. Resistance will be met with death. You have five minutes.

Delanis groaned. "Fucking pirates. We're fucked." Solonus tried to trace the message, but it went to nowhere, literally. "Sublight is back on line." the engineering crew reported. "Get me on that freq." she ordered.

Raider Actual

Counter proposal.
We leave the freighters. You let us finish cooling our translight drives and limp out of range of your weapons. We'll jump in forty minutes,
We didn't see anything. This conversation never happened.

Gladius Ignis Actual

The crew nodded with approval. They were all mercs. Right now the raiders were offering the best price for their services. After all, they were all rather attached to their lives. "Hold station. Do not move a meter and any axis. Cease fire." she ordered. They weren't powering down their weapons, they weren't disabling their computers, they weren't heaving to. They also weren't firing. They weren't running. And they sure as hell weren't trying to jump early. They didn't have a death wish. The freighters seemed to not notice it at all. Solonus had his doubts about nav AI's actual capacities. He didn't like the plan, but he'd be more than happy to delete this hour if it meant his continual function.

[Mini Miehm]

Code: Select all

While your offer is enticing, I am afraid our operations do not leave any room for witnesses, close mouthed or otherwise.  I have a return proposal for you.  It is apparent by your willingness to abandon your charges that you are not members of an organized military body.  In exchange for your lives, and these ships, we will procure your services.  A further exchange may be possible if you are willing to come to a mutually beneficial understanding.

Captain Rogers was verging very close to violating his orders this way, but if this worked out he might have an advantage as they ramped up their operational tempo. Hiring these mercenaries ought to be fairly cheap if their readiness was anything to go by. And they might even get paid, assuming they delivered the goods.

The Blackhawk sent a tightly coded message, calling off the Wights as they continued to pound at the shields of the battered ship. Their lasers would burn tthrough eventually, but if they could deal it would save them effort in the future.

In essence, they would hire this mercenary ship, repair the damage, and send it back, with a few extras onboard. When the time came to begin striking larger convoys, this would be their Judas, leading them to their targets for money. And if they were betrayed, there were solutions for that too.

"Captain, a moment if you would?" Back on the bridge of the Blackhawk, the XO had his doubts. For one thing their orders said no witnesses, although technically that still held true. None of them had been seen, and if this ship were hired to work for them, they could start spreading rumors of invisible pirates that struck from nowhere, leaving nothing to defend against. The only defense would to be too large to pick apart. Until more stealth units came online, it might even work. But once the number of stealth cruisers could no longer be counted on one hand, things would get exciting quickly.

"Of course. Tactical, you have the watch." Captain Rogers knew where this was going, but he had some fair amount of discretion built into his orders, and now was the time to use it. Together with lieutenant commander Drake, he stepped off of the bridge and into the small day cabin that served the captain during ships "day" hours.

"Tim, I know what you're thinking, and I agree it's risky, but for this sort of benefit I think we have no choice. If we can get these mercs to feed us information, we can triple our effectiveness out here. We do tha, and everyone on this ship will be better off." His voice was calm and rational, but he tended to sound that way all the time

"Of course skipper, and if they betray us we'll get shot to ribbons as soon as we show up. They can lay ambushes for us, and we would never know." Drake was just as calm as his captain, but he tended more towards pessimism.

"Look, they have no idea who we are, where we're from, or what we're up to. The only thing they know is they're facing a threat they can't match, and they have a way out. They'll take the offer and get paid. They're mercenaries after all." The tone this time was one of finality. He was prepared to entertain obje tions in private, but arguing for too long would give just as bad an impression as doing it in front of the crew. The question was settled, and Drake knew it. He still had his reservations, but it wasn't going to do him any good to voice them. And who knew? Maybe the horse would sing.

[Kreanoltha]

Milky Way
Treskill System
Corinth Distribution Group Convoy
CGEV Gladius Ignis, 2:20 into cool down cycle

"Well, the fighters just went off line." the Combat Operations-Offensive Officer said. "Not that I had a fix to begin with." he growled. "Wait. They'll contact us." Captain Delanis said. She was right.

While your offer is enticing, I am afraid our operations do not leave any room for witnesses, close mouthed or otherwise. I have a return proposal for you. It is apparent by your willingness to abandon your charges that you are not members of an organized military body. In exchange for your lives, and these ships, we will procure your services. A further exchange may be possible if you are willing to come to a mutually beneficial understanding.

"A little presumptuous don't you think?" Evarus said. "Well, we are." Solonus said. "We take the CDG's money. We guide their conveys. Is there some other definition of mercenary that I don't know?" "It is presumptuous, they are right, and we will." Delanis said.

Raider Actual

Mutually beneficial? We seem to have a common language after all. Which service do you require?

Gladius Ignis Actual

"We get our necks, our commission, and a bonus." Evarus said. "What's not to like?" "I'll drink to that." Delanis said. She produce a vodka bottle from under her chair and passed it around the bridge crew. They were professionals, but that did not seem to imply professionalism in this case.

[Telros]

The Asmodeus came to a stop before the buoy, scans finally finishing and covering the screen with information. Leslie grinned at the info being streamed to her terminal; this was the first clear cut evidence they had that this was Directorate work. The buoy was of obvious UED design, and the signal it was sending was of similar work to the format the Directorate used for all its data and bit transfer. She was going to be thorough, however. The hundreds who lost their lives here could not be left unavenged.

They also found that the pods had not been completely vaporized, some had managed to survive as they broke open upon being struck into neat sections. Lifesigns were detected from a few; she made a note to gather them up after they had secured the buoy. They could tell her who they were and how they could contact their government for their safe return. But first, to business.

“Tactical, bring us closer to the buoy and prepare to have it brought aboard. We'll need to study it with closer detail to be sure of what we have found.”

“Aye, ma'am.”

However, that was to be postponed as alarms rang out, as before, as a ship was detected decloaking. Leslie's blood froze as she though it was her worst nightmare, the Directorate had left forces here to ensure the evidence was hidden. This was dispelled when the Tactical officer spoke up.

“Ma'am, unknown contact. Cloaking does not register as of Terran make. The ship design does appear to be similar to those of the convoy. They're pinging us with sensors and I'm reading power building, they appear to be prepping weapons. They seem to be moving towards the pods, but they are locking onto us!”

The officer's hand moved to return the lock on but she was stopped by the Captain's voice. “Belay that action, Lieutenant. Power down weapons and prepare to open a channel with them. If they belong with the convoy, we need to speak with them.”

“Ma'am, reading an open channel from the unknown vessel, they want to talk.”

She grimaced; of course they did, she hoped it wasn't going to be the kind of discussion involving weapons. She had no illusions as to how this contest would turn out. “Play it for me, Lieutenant.”

"This is kaptan Rok of the frigate Ingham. On behalf of the Technokrasy of Red Talons I demand that you identify yourselves and your business here. If you do not, I will Kill. You. All. Without hesitation." He was silent for a moment, before the transmission ended.

In any other situation, a message like that would have been greeted with all the weapons Leslie had at her command. However, in any other situation, they weren't looking like the enemies that had just attacked this captain's convoy, so she could afford to be diplomatic.

“Channel open, ma'am.”

Leslie nodded and took a breath before moving her hand to the panel on her chair, pressing the button that initiated their side of the connection.

”Captain Rok, I am Captain Arko of the Terran Federation Frigate, Asmodeus. We are a small scout force tracking known enemies of the Federation, the Directorate, and their movements throughout the sector. We were investigating traces of their warp signatures when we happened upon the attack on your convoy. Due to the fact that the number of the enemy was unknown, and that the Directorate has never committed actions like this, I felt it was best to wait to see what happened. If I had more capable forces available to me, I would have intervened, but it is better for me to head back and give my superiors what happened here, than being dead.

I would like to help your people, in any way I can. I understand if you are not particularly interested in talking, but we know quite a bit about the enemy who has killed your people today, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

She then hid her side of the channel and leaned back, keeping her face composed even as she sweat bullets. The power readings they were getting from that vessel were not pleasing. "Tactical, keep an eye on them and maintain distance as discreetly as you can. If negotiations fail, we need to leave. Recall the Wraiths; that'll make us seem more amenable and allow us to jump faster."

She head an acknowledgement and the frigate began to slowly drift away from the Ingham as the fighters were recalled back inside the vessel. They only had to wait for the other vessels response.

[Red Talons]

Ingham, bridge.

"Captain, strike craft are falling back." The sensors officer spoke.

Rok nodded slightly. "Of course they are, is the vessel powering systems?"

"Negative sir, its staying quiet." Came the sensors officer's response.

The navigations officer leered at his console a moment. "Vessel is holding distance with us, we're nearing the area of survivors."

The communications officer spoke up, "Captain, incoming transmission, shall I play it?"

Rok nodded and listened to the reply, his ear twitching slightly. Ahlia scratched her chin. "I Believe the human... I didn't sense any attempt at deception." She said with an even tone.

The captain nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Alright... Disengage active tracking and return weapons to standby. Have marines prep for a walk, Return transmission."

He waited a moment for the coms officer to give a nod that the channel was open. "I'm inklined to listen further kaptain Arko... We are going to begin reskue operations, I would ask you kindly to hold your distance while we do so. Now, what kan you tell me of this Dominion and its methods?..." He flicked an ear and the transmission ended.

Marines began to exit the frigate, gliding through the void to begin collecting survivors. Utilising the large hole in the aft of the ship from the dominion torpedo that almost crippled the hundred and fifty meter frigate.

[Mini Miehm]

Code: Select all

The agreement shall be as follows.  Your ship shall have such damage as will make it possible for you to return to you system of origin.  We will supply you with a device that will permit us to track you.  You will continue to guard convoys, and you will be very clearon what precisely occurred here.  If you are able, join larger convoys.  When you return to this region of space, you will activate the device, and we will cripple the escorts, and seize the freighters.  You will be compensated for your time and risk on an ad hoc basis.

The message was very clear. The destroyer would be their partner, luring prey to them with promises of safety. If they got caught, most of the parts for the beacon were of Dominion design anyway. Tracing the device alone back to the Directorate would be difficult.

"Skipper, should we recall the Wights and launch the Marines?" Preparing the marines for launch would take some time, so it would be best to start now, if they were going to start at all.

"Prep for launch, but hold the birds. If that ship changes its mind, it could easily destroy the shuttles before we could kill it. We'll wait a while longer." This deal could save them a lot of money in the end, and that was a big deal for the struggling directorate.

Chau Sara, Kel-Morian Combine
Three Days Prior to Special Task Group Operations Commencing:

"Apache six, this is command. Commence engagement." The Apaches were the first full wing of Wights to see service. Several units already had squadrons or flights, but only this operation was deemed vital enough to require a full thirty six ship wing. The biggest threat to their planned operations was the Federation, if their detectors could penetrate the improved cloak the Wights had been built with, things would be nearly impossible. Many of the newest planned ship classes featured cloaking technology in some manner, and the Wights were only the most advanced example.

The first six fighters activated their cloaking fields, and began to accelerate towards their target. Each squadron had a designated target that they were to approach and destroy. If the cloaking worked, it would be simple. If not, the wreckage would look enough like Wraiths to raise no real comment without a thorough inspection. The fact that the Directorate was probing their systems was taken for granted, since it was only logical to keep a very close eye on their opposite numbers.

The first target was a newly built defense station, outfitted with detectors and batteries of missiles to defeat the sort of attack they were going to attempt. It remained to be seen if the improvements sufficed to defeat them. This was one of the examples of Federation ingenuity surpassing the Directorate. Their defenses were still primarily built around orbital platforms seeded with missile turrets and a limited number of heavy ion cannon. The sheer size that went into the Directorate defenses made them more durable, but they had a much lower weight of fire for their size.

Second was an old science vessel, which they weren't sure was still functional. If it was, another valid test. If it wasn't, oh well. At least it would explode spectacularly. The somewhat bulky Science Vessels had seen heavy use by both Directorate and Dominion during the Brood War, but their use had declined since then among the former colonies, with the development of more efficient systems. The Directorate still fielded a number of the platforms as powerful mobile repair stations, but even that was a recent development.

Third was a comsat array. Normally the devices had to be actively seeking a target, but they had the most powerful detectors available, so it seemed wasteful not to try.

Fourth and fifth were a pair of mining outposts, just to see how far they could penetrate the system. The Combine defended its mining posts with almost single minded determination, since their economy relied on mining more heavily than any other. The odds were that neither group would reach its destination, but trying and failing was the entire point of this mission, so it didn't matter too much if they were stopped short of launching their missiles.

Sixth and last was the most dangerous. An actual Combine military base. Every other target they sought in the system would be replicated here. In all probability, they would not make it this far. The targeted base was on the surface of the planet, and it seemed unlikely they could thread their way through the thicket of defenses to carry through their strike, but it seemed worth it to try. Each of the earlier objectives actually lay between the edge of the system and this one, and this base would be on full alert before the the Wights had the opportunity to arrive. It would be an interesting attempt once they got started.

The Wights would hit their first target in just four hours.

[Kreanoltha]

Milky Way
Treskill System
Corinth Distribution Group Convoy
CGEV Gladius Ignis, 2:23.5 into cool down cycle

"We've a response." Evarus said. He transferred it to Delanis' station.

The agreement shall be as follows. Your ship shall have such damage as will make it possible for you to return to you system of origin. We will supply you with a device that will permit us to track you. You will continue to guard convoys, and you will be very clearon what precisely occurred here. If you are able, join larger convoys. When you return to this region of space, you will activate the device, and we will cripple the escorts, and seize the freighters. You will be compensated for your time and risk on an ad hoc basis.

She frowned. It was acceptable, but she'd hoped for something a little more... well she could always negotiate.

Raider Actual

So there is no miscommunication we expect some upfront payment. After all, we are allowing you and your device aboard our ship. We will be able to get home without repair. The damage was largely superficial. We've affected most of the repairs required. And, don't worry, as long as we are paid, our employers will know exactly what they need to know; no more no less. There are three hundred crewmen, and they will all be paid. We suggest that the device be made portable rather than integrated into the ship as it will be sometime before this ship is redeployed.

Gladius Ignis Actual

The damage was not actually mostly superficial, but she didn't want the raiders in her ship longer than they needed to be. However, the shields were repaired, and the surviving weapons were back on line. The slipspace drives were still in cool down and thrust was still stuck at half, but they would be in overhaul for months to get it repaired.