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Methuselah | [FT - Closed (TG to Enter)]

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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Interstellar Space Corps
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Ex-Nation

Methuselah | [FT - Closed (TG to Enter)]

Postby Interstellar Space Corps » Sun Sep 24, 2017 8:41 pm

Image
A Union Space Corps contingent is on an expedition to a pulsar star system with four planets, one of which is the oldest planet known to mankind.
Aside from the profound scientific possibilities from even visiting this planet, the Space Corps has detected strange readings from this world that might indicate valuable new resources, resources that other civilizations may strive for, ones like yours that might be willing to join this thread :)

Or perhaps they have unknowingly stumbled into the territory of some other alien race? You for example? :)

Or some other reason to start either exploring and talking with others here, or to just try and blow them up.

There's something special about Methuselah that perhaps no party involved is aware of yet, something none of them expect.


Pulsar PSR B3256

"Captain, we're ready for drop."

"Take us out."

An outside observer in the vast emptiness here might notice the stars bending as an 805 meter warship warped space time to enable travel to this star system in reasonable time. The UFHC-007 Vanargand Class Cruiser soon became visible to the eye as it disengaged its frameshift Alcubierre drive. Accompanying the flagship were two smaller 145 meter transports and other smaller ships that had their own frameshift drives. They drifted through empty space. Crew members eyed the rare sight of a pulsar in the distance.

"Lieutenant, how far are we from the pulsar?" Inquired the white-uniformed captain, sitting at a gray chair positioned at the center of the command bridge of the cruiser. Everything was positioned around him with the aim of streamlining the command and control process.

"About 2500 light seconds, captain." The white-uniformed adjutant standing before him informed, her feet forming sharp 45 degree angles and legs closed, red pony-tailed hair falling to the side of her neck, unmoving in her firm, attendant posture.

"Set course for Methuselah. Deploy the recon team to scope out the area. We aren't here to sightsee," The captain ordered with a wave of his hand.

"Yes, captain," The adjutant agreed, and turned to relay the captain's orders to its necessary location. The captain turned his focus away from his lieutenant and to the left side of his chair, where he gestured with his fingers on the armrest. The touchscreen displayed several holographic menus before him, which he navigated with his gestures on the armrest comfortably. Eventually, he managed to display a live feed of an orange uniformed officer's face.

"Captain, what do you request?" The face uttered with submission.

"Contact command to alert them of our arrival, and send me an ORBAT of our forces in the area once more. I'd like to review our strategic ability here in case we encounter any stray Bydo or another unfriendly entity."

"Right away, sir," The face on the screen complied, and quickly vanished. Replacing the face was a list of the captain's available forces,

  • UFHC-007 "Pegasus" Vanargand Class Cruiser x1
  • R-9A3 Lady Love x1 Squadron
  • R-9C War Head x1 Squadron
  • R-9D2 Morning Star x1 Squadron

  • UFLS-06 "Roo" Hildisvini
  • R-A3 Lady Love x2 Squadron
  • R-9B Strider x1 Squadron

  • UFLS-06 "Koala" Hildisvini
  • R-A3 Lady Love x2 Squadron
  • R-9B Strider x1 Squadron

  • TP-02 POW Armor x1
  • Rr2o-3 Craft Module x1
  • R-9ER Powered Silence x3
  • TP-1 Scope Duck x1


The captain examined this data and planned his moves accordingly. He swiftly ordered the undocked R-9ER Powered Silence AWACS craft to begin scans of the area. The three fighters spread out and maneuvered to to the outside of the fleet's sphere of influence to begin scans of the pulsar system, identifying in more detail the four planets that orbited the peculiar star and their moons. The fleet had already begun moving toward the second closest planet to the pulsar.

Image


The captain began to dictate his voice log,

We have arrived at the pulsar system and are approaching Methuselah. It is the oldest known exoplanet to humanity's knowledge. We believe that we may be able to find secrets about the early universe here, perhaps even the history of ancient civilizations. Also, strange readings from this place have puzzled Union Space Corps leaders for some time. They believe there might be some kind of resource here that's behind the anomaly. Though I haven't been filled in on the details, I can tell that we are looking for something incredibly valuable. This untouched world, so ancient, may hold value we cannot even imagine. To think that it is unknown to all in our galaxy is not an assumption I'm willing to bet on, however. The Bydo could have spread to this place already. Perhaps it is in the cross hairs of some other alien race. We cannot know for sure. My expedition is the first to this system, and I am prepared for whatever we may encounter as we approach Methuselah."

The fleet trudged on toward the rocky planet, its tiny, bright sun shining bright like a cosmic lighthouse.
Last edited by Interstellar Space Corps on Wed Dec 13, 2017 10:31 am, edited 3 times in total.


Vice Chairman of Wolfainia


Ok ok, I totally ripped off my sig from Kelvaros Prime.
Rangstam
My country is highly National Socialist and we won't let you take our RIGHTS! THAT IS FINAL!

Mad Jack
Can I have your lefts instead?

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The Intersystem Alliance
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Postby The Intersystem Alliance » Mon Sep 25, 2017 7:28 pm

Outpost ZTA-7568 "Zeta"
Alliance Navy Monitoring Station
LT-6679 "Edara"
0600





The alarm clock buzzed loudly, a continuous stream of loud, obnoxious noise that not only served to wake up Commander Anthony Davis, it also pissed him off beyond belief. In a bout of anger, he slammed his hand down onto the "snooze" button, breaking it and causing the holographic display to flicker. Anthony looked up with his squinted, tired eyes, cursing and digging his head down into the pillow. Getting an alarm clock through the Navy's procurement services was hard enough, now he broke one. At best, He'd get another in a few months. Outpost's Artificial Intelligence "Rover" interacted with the rooms controls, the shutters covering the large windows slowly raised, exposing the Commander's Quarters to the vast emptiness of space. He had seen the same assortment of stars for so long, he didn't care anymore for it. This assignment to this hellhole had worn out each one of it's intrigue. Anthony explored every inch of the small asteroid-based station, and so did the other forty-five personnel.

Anthony rolled over onto his back and sighed, staring up at the dark grey ceiling, where the many titanium-III bulkheads cut into it, reinforcing it five fold. Anthony began to think of what lead him here, so far from Alliance space in a remote outpost that wasn't even in Alliance jurisdiction space. He remembered exactly what got him here, going from Executive Officer aboard the Ancile-Class Frigate ANS Havana to Commander of Zeta Outpost, an Alliance black ops installation that breached the laws of interstellar space negotiated by the rest of the Galactic Coalition for the purpose of detecting early warnings before even entering Alliance territory. The station would allow several hours of advance warning for the rest of the Alliance, but it sure didn't help his position any. Punching your commanding officer in the face for disagreeing with his order was a good way to get placed here, and because of his rank, he was placed in charge. The king of the misfits.

"You okay?" Said a high pitched voice coming from next to him. He turned to see Lieutenant Second Class Jupiter Morley, service electrician for the Outpost's inside lighting and Anthony's late night fling after a few drinks at the Vortex bar, a heavy storage bay converted into a place to get drunk and socialize.

"I don't want to get up. I don't want to leave this bed so long as you're in it." Anthony said, turning to face her. She smiled.

"Sucks for you, I don't have to report in until ten." She snickered back at him.

"Oh, good for you. What, got an appointment to change some lightbulbs." He retorted jokingly. She lifted up and jumped on top of him, grinding herself onto him.

"I'll tell you what I have an appointment with...." She said seductively.

"Really, again? We had to have only gotten an hour of sle-" He was interrupted by a deep kiss from Jupiter. He embraced her and rolled her over, taking the dominant position from her.

****

Outpost ZTA-7568
Command and Control Center
0830




The Commander walked into the room, the hydraulic doors loudly hissing shut behind him.

"I never get used to those dumb doors. Report, Dirty Sanchez." Anthony said jokingly to the Outpost's Control Officer, Lieutenant First Class Brian Sanchez, the man in charge of keeping a watchful eye on the 225,000,000 km space.

"Easy there, Nubchub. Those are fighting words back on Maresh." He said, pulling up the holographic data of the last twelve hours and sending it over to Anthony's Command chair.

"Yeah, yeah, we ain't on Maresh, that sleazy backwater. I'd rather spend five years here than thirty minutes on Maresh." Replied Anthony, getting a laugh from Brian.

"Is it true they have sister-cousins on Maresh?" Asked Lieutenant-Commander Mariah Cordon, second in command of the outpost.

"No ma'am they do not! I like how we all gang up on Maresh when the Elysium Reaches has evidence of brothers and sisters getting it-" Brian was interrupted by Lieutenant Slovan Markanokov.

"Hey, leave Castilla out of this. That's my home! We don't do that shit there! That's only New Morocco!"

"Alright, alright. Let's stop now before we get into a brawl right here in the C&C. Lieutenant-Commander, wake up as late as I did?" Asked Anthony while looking over the lists of data from the probes and outpost-wide issues reported by the crew.

"No, actually, I got here at 0645, found you were still in bed, and decided to do my rounds early. The Warhawk that got damaged by a small comet can't be repaired. We seem to have run out of pistons to install." Reported Lieutenant-Commander Mariah Cordon.

"Again?! Didn't we just get a new shipment of pistons, what, three weeks ago?" Asked Anthony.

"Between the Warhawks constantly breaking down, the rovers breaking down, and the outpost itself breaking down, we go through pistons faster than you go through young, dumb, newly transferred Lieutenants."

"Hey, don't go there, Mariah. I know what you did last summer." Anthony said, getting a laugh from all in the center.

"Tony...." Said Brian, his face turning grim and worried, staring deeply into the holographic displays that was his workstation. His request went unheeded as the Commander and Lieutenant-Commander began trading blows about the subject.

"Commander Davis! We have contact! Picking up several contacts on radar! Unknown origin, unknown make and model. Heading straight for AD-5568." Reported Lieutenant Brian Sanchez. AD-5568 was approximately 10,000 km from the Outpost, putting it very close to the station.

"Alright, people. Move to General Quarters, this is not a drill. Ring the bells." Said Anthony. The lights in the halls flickered red momentarily as the station's alarms began to buzz.

"Get the Marines suited up and the Warhawks ready to go. Forward the info to Naval Command. Attempt to contact them, Sanchez." Ordered Commander Davis.

"Broadcasting on all frequencies, Commander. Ready to transmit." Reported Markanokov.

"Unknown group of ships. This is Commander Anthony Davis of the Intersystem Alliance Navy. You have breached Alliance space and are currently encroaching on sovereign territory. You are being asked to return to your previous coordinates or to travel to these sent coordinates to leave Alliance space. Please respond." Said Commander Davis, ending the transmission there and sending the message.

"Staff Sergeant Pierce is reporting all fifteen Marines are locked and ready to go. Warhawk 1-1 is ready. Warhawk 1-2 is out of service." Said the Lieutenant-Commander.

"Shit. Let's hope there's an Alliance Guard craft nearby if this shit goes sideways. Otherwise, we're all toast."

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Interstellar Space Corps
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Postby Interstellar Space Corps » Tue Sep 26, 2017 10:59 am

"Master Sergeant Busch, I'm not sure how much more of your behavior I can tolerate," The officer scolded, his angled countenance clearly expressing his concern for the pilot sitting before him as he paced between the dark shadows on the floor. Each step of the red-uniformed officer's boots echoed briefly in the small, dimly lit room. "I understand you completed one extrasolar solo sortie, but your reckless, brash behavior is unwarranted."

The blue-uniformed pilot looked to shadows along the floor with a frown.

"There are no heroes. We need to work together to succeed for the good of mankind. Do you at least understand that?" The officer stared at Busch, seeking eye contact.

Busch hesitated before looking his superior, at least by rank, in the eye. "I understand," He resisted gritting his teeth as he responded.

"Good, then I expect you to fly well with Caldwell's flight, element wingman," The officer decided, crossing his arms.

"Element wingman?" Busch exclaimed with disappointment. "Why at the back of the formation? I'm much more valuable at the front!"

"I need to see that you are willing to work with others as a team, not by yourself. Your skills are not in question, it's your obedience and your teamwork abilities that are lacking," The officer critiqued, counting the two missing abilities on his fingers as he spoke. "Sabertooth Squadron is set to go on patrol in one hour, they already know that you will be joining them to replace their missing man. Sabertooth 4 is currently in the medical bay."

"What happened to him?"

"I think they mentioned some kind of extreme insomnia, not certain," The officer explained, scratching his head. "I hope you will be able to show me that you have learned your lesson after the lives your risked last week. Dismissed."

Busch stood up and exchanged salutes with his ranking superior, and left the room with his hands in his pockets.

"That prick thinks I'm some kind of damn nugget," Busch muttered under his breath as he walked away. "'I'll show him."




Busch arrived at the hangar bay suited up and ready to fly. He sought out his assigned squadron's zone on deck and found that his starfighter had already been lined up with the other fighters from Caldwell's Sabertooth squadron. Busch had heard stories about Caldwell. He was an impressive ace who had survived four solo sortie missions and led several other flights to victory in the last Bydo campaign. He wasn't the most skilled pilot in the coalition, that being the famous Katerina Chesnokova, with an incredible eight solo sortie missions, all successes. One of those missions happened to result in the destruction of the Bydo core years ago. That probably could not be done if the Bydo came back again, as they always return as a stronger force than the last. Busch recalled how those days relied more on single fighter pilots due to a lack of resources and developing technology that prevented the Space Corps from utilizing fleets of warships against the Bydo. Pilot training was incredibly rigorous and flight plans were carefully plotted to allow for resupply and repair units to assist solo sortie pilots. Busch had been through the academy in the latter days of the solo sortie tactic's use. Now the tactic had been revised to be used mainly for reconnaissance and stealth missions, but sometimes pilots traveling alone may be intercepted and must survive on their own against a multitude of enemies. Busch didn't like fading away into a sea of mindless drones following orders. He wanted to be like Chesnokova, the next one to destroy the core. Fame and glory fueled him. No disciplinary action could ever stop him from his quest to attain that.

"Busch!" Shouted a voice, startling Busch slightly as he looked up from his daydreaming. "About time you showed up!" The man before Busch several meters away spoke loudly to overcome the background noise of the busy hangar. His voice echoed through the tall bay, but was quickly smothered by the loud clanging of machinery and buzzing of welding sparks. The man was clearly Commander Caldwell, Busch's new flight lead.

"Commander Caldwell," Busch began. "It's good to see you again."

"Indeed, I haven't seen you since you nearly shot a friendly Destroyer with your wave cannon while taking out that pirate ship last week," Caldwell smirked.

"I knew my cannon range. That destroyer wasn't in danger," Busch defended himself.

Caldwell chuckled slightly. "I was just like you once," He reminisced. "Well, you're already suited up. Your ship's loaded up, we were going to go over our flight plan and then go on our patr-" Caldwell explained before being interrupted by blaring sirens in the hangar bay accompanied by flashing yellow lights along the bay walls.

"INTERMEDIATE SCRAMBLE, DEPLOY: SABERTOOTH SQUADRON, RED SUN SQUADRON IMMEDIATELY," a loud, cacophonic voice echoed throughout the deck.

"Well, guess we can worry about the flight plan later. Get saddled and let's get moving," Caldwell ordered.

"Yes, sir," Busch stressed the single syllable noun. He would prove to be better than Caldwell someday, he thought. The squadron quickly climbed into their R-9A3 Lady Love fighters. Busch sat down inside the cockpit and the seat adjusted automatically. Instead of a helmet, a round, blue screen lowered in front of his face, angling around his eyes. The round canopy closed above him, sealing him inside the fighter. A peculiar sensation followed that he had grown quite fond of. Darkness enveloped him, and suddenly light returned to him as the cockpit lit up. A heads up display appeared in his vision wherever he looked, and he could see the entire radius around the aircraft at will. COFFIN 12 technology enabled this, allowing him to control the aircraft with his mind. It was a massive step up from the aging COFFIN 11 system, which was used on the original R-9A Arrowhead. Connection for Flight Interface was standard across all coalition spacecraft, and even some control units for capital ships were controlled using COFFIN to reduce crew sizes and maximize effectiveness.

On Busch's HUD, he viewed a sequence of boot up information,

Code: Select all
[OPERATION-SYSTEM]

FORCE CONTROL DEVICE

FORCE ----- OK
WAVE CANNON ----- OK
VULCAN ----- OK
ANTIAIR BEAM ----- OK
REFLEX LASER ----- OK
SEARCH BEAM ----- OK
TX-R TRACER II ----- OK
PX-R PHOTON M. ----- OK

HELLO - BUSCH FRIEDMAN


"Sabertooth squadron, check in," Came Caldwell's crackled voice on the radio.
"Sabertooth 2, standing by."
"Sabertooth 3, standing by."
Busch hesitated, disliking the idea of reporting himself as the lowest number in the formation.
"Busch, check in." Caldwell ordered.
"Sabertooth 4, checking in," Busch sighed.
"Alright, let's get out there," Caldwell continued. "You'll connect to your force device on the way out."

Each fighter rested on top of a platform positioned on a track. The platforms began to move the fighters along the track like a train, rotating as they moved to position them accordingly for takeoff. Busch watched the other three fighters ahead of him on the track as he tailed behind. Each fighter was now traveling along the track along the side of the bay wall in a single file line, and eventually the convoy came to a stop. Caldwell's fighter began to turn toward the wall, and a large door in front of him opened to reveal a launch tunnel. Each fighter would be electromagnetically propelled via railgun out of the hangar bay into open space at staggering speed.

"Here I go, Sabertooth 1 deploying," Caldwell informed, and his fighter disappeared into the tunnel. Busch waited patiently until it was his turn to make the launch, and braced himself. G-forces were limited dramatically, but he still swore that he could feel the rush of the acceleration from being propelled out of the hangar at such speeds. Before he knew it, his vision had gone from viewing the inside of the tunnel to the blackness of open space within seconds. Symbols appeared on his HUD to identify friendly units and his wingmen. He formed up behind them to complete their finger four formation. He hadn't noticed it at first, especially since the COFFIN camera subtly screens it out to improve pilot vision, but as his fighter was rocketing out of the hangar it had attached a glowing orange orb to the front of the fighter. Each fighter in the squadron had one, a force device. In particular, this was the standard force DX. It's versatile nature was one of the reasons humanity was able to stand a chance against the Bydo. Busch wished that he had been able to equip bit devices, smaller versions of the force that would connect to the sides of the fighter, but they had not issued them for any of the fighters for this outing.

Image


"Sabertooth 1, requesting sitrep," Caldwell inquired over the radio.

"Sabertooth 1, this is AWACS Quasar. Early warning radar has detected intelligent civilization's presence at the target planet. Command is currently dealing with communications as we speak, but your scramble is a preemptive measure. We are trying to avoid combat. Stand by and stay close to the fleet," Came another analytical voice over the air. Busch rolled his eyes. He was hoping for a fight to prove himself.

"You heard him, boys. Stay close to me," Caldwell ordered, and banked his fighter to the left to stay close to the small contingent of Space Corps ships. Busch reluctantly followed close behind at the back of the formation.




Image
Union Space Corps [USC]

ATTN: Commander Anthony Davis
SUBJECT: RE:


This is Captain Archibald of of the Union Space Corps. We do not have ill intentions, and were not aware of your claim over this system. The Union Space Corps has reason to believe that this planet, "Methuselah," far surpasses the known age of the universe and also emits peculiar readings that we have detected, warranting study. We would like to discuss a scientific investigation of the planet with you for the sake of understanding the nature of the universe in further detail. I have begun to adjust our fleet's course to comply with your request, but it is my hope that we can continue discussion of a scientific investigation of Methuselah.

-Captain Baker Archibald-

\\::..End Transmission..:://





Far below the outpost on the peculiar, blue, atmospherically shrouded planet of Methuselah, something stirred. Like a morning yawn, the ground rumbled, the seismic wave traveling throughout the entire planet's incredibly dense composition as soft as a tank.


Vice Chairman of Wolfainia


Ok ok, I totally ripped off my sig from Kelvaros Prime.
Rangstam
My country is highly National Socialist and we won't let you take our RIGHTS! THAT IS FINAL!

Mad Jack
Can I have your lefts instead?

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Whovian Tardisia
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Founded: Jun 25, 2015
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Whovian Tardisia » Tue Sep 26, 2017 9:11 pm

Amidst the panic on both sides, one could be forgiven for missing the insignificant space rock appearing seemingly from nowhere. It seemed at a strategically perfect distance away from the action; far enough away not to be noticed, but close enough to observe. The rock, however, was far from insignificant. In fact, it was far from even being a rock. For in reality it was merely the outer disguise of the WTC Atlas, a Type 20 TT Capsule. Within was a small, slightly on edge crew, just arrived from an escapade in far riskier territory.

Captain Amy Wilson spun her chair to face the ship's monitors. For once, she had no clue where she was. In her panic, she had activated an emergency temporal shift, and ended up here, at a random patch of space. She examined the screens, giving her data on the nearby planet. "Methuselah. An interesting name, isn't it? I think there's a certain whimsy to it, don't you, Jack?" She asked her First Mate, Jack Dawson, only somewhat rhetorically. "It does roll off the tongue." He replied, seating himself at another monitor. "But what concerns me is that fleet. I thought this shift was supposed to take us away from danger. We appear to be in what may become a conflict zone..."

"Fleet?" The Second Mate, Anna Osgood, squeaked, clutching at her lapel pin. "It was just the one ship before, and now you tell me we've stumbled across a whole FLEET?" She was already quite flustered from the previous encounter, her first brush with alien life, and the prospect of dealing with more suspicious, paranoid aliens was terrifying. "Don't panic, Anna." Captain Wilson replied. "They're not fighting, we should be fine. Besides, we should just look like space debris." Anna was only slightly calmed by this, but decided that protesting was not necessary yet. "They're not fighting yet." Interjected Jack, casually tapping the transmissions between the two factions. "It appears the fleet is unknowingly entering the territory of whoever that little station belongs to. Neither seems hostile, and they don't appear to know each other, but if our last hosts were anything to go by, intrusion is not well liked."

Captain Wilson pondered this. Their purpose out here was mapping. That, or acquiring maps. A simple objective, really. The data logs of Methuselah were sparse, and a map could spice them up. Any more information could. Who better to ask than the ones with a base nearby? "Who owns the station?" She queried. "They call themselves the Intersystem Alliance. How creative." Jack replied, eyes rolling. "Begin a transmission. I want us to say hello." The Captain instructed. "Excuse me, Captain, I need to powder my nose." Anna stated, timidly, before running off down a corridor. Jack sighed. "I can understand her worry, you know." He said to his Captain. The last time we 'said hello', it didn't go over so well. Are you sure we should make contact again?" Amy shrugged. "Don't let one bad apple spoil the basket. Begin transmitting, Dawson." "Yes, ma'am." Jack answered, pushing a series of buttons, ending with a small blue one, sending the communications crackling to life.

"Greetings, strangers." Captain Wilson began. "This is Captain Amy Wilson of the WTC Atlas speaking. We understand you might be a bit flustered at the moment, what with all those big, scary warships and all, but we hope you might be able to think of us as potential friends. We seek only the peaceful exchange of information in regards to the nearby planet we have designated in our records as 'Methuselah'. Would you be willing to accommodate us aboard your station temporarily?" With a nod, Jack hit the blue button again, ending the transmission. "You're crazy." Jack said to his Captain. "I know." She mischievously replied.
An FT (Class W11) nation capable of space travel, but has never attempted invading another planet. The Space Brigade is for defense only! Also, something happened to Ambassador Pink.
From the desk of Rupert Pink:
The Grand Gallifreyan Republic of Whovian Tardisia
Floor 12, Office 42 of WAHQ
Proud patron of the World Assembly Stranger's Bar.
The Interstellar Cartographers are back! This time, they explore Methuselah.

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The Intersystem Alliance
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Founded: Sep 15, 2017
Ex-Nation

Postby The Intersystem Alliance » Wed Sep 27, 2017 7:23 pm

Outpost ZTA-7568 "Zeta"
Alliance Navy Monitoring Station
LT-6679 "Edara"
0838





The message came back so quickly and clearly.

"Message received, sir. Playing it back onscreen." Said the A.I. Rover

Code: Select all
This is Captain Archibald of of the Union Space Corps. We do not have ill intentions, and were not aware of your claim over this system. The Union Space Corps has reason to believe that this planet, "Methuselah," far surpasses the known age of the universe and also emits peculiar readings that we have detected, warranting study. We would like to discuss a scientific investigation of the planet with you for the sake of understanding the nature of the universe in further detail. I have begun to adjust our fleet's course to comply with your request, but it is my hope that we can continue discussion of a scientific investigation of Methuselah.

-Captain Baker Archibald-


The C&C Center went deathly quiet. They were used to the Consortium, the Hadrians, Eosians, but the same factor for them was disturbingly untrue for this Union Space Corps: they all stemmed from Earth, the cradle of Humanity.

"Rover, search databases for anything related to the Union Space Corps, Captain Baker Archibald, Methuselah." Ordered Commander Davis, searching for anything that might tie them to their region of space, anything that would ease his mind of dealing with a 1CS, or First Contact Scenario.

"Searching....I have detected no results for any of the referenced topics. Commander, we are dealing with a First Contact Scenario." Reported A.I. Rover. Anthony's head went spinning. Never in a million years did they believe something like this would happen so far out here, in a little backwater listening post. Now, they were truly on the frontlines and, at the moment, represented the Intersystem Alliance as a whole. At this moment, Commander Anthony Davis was the first Ambassador to an extraterrestrial entity.

"Okay, uhhm. Alright, let's-.....prepare to send traffic." Ordered Commander Davis, mind still scrambled from what he had heard.

"Captain Baker Archibald, hold position. Stay at your current coordinates." Ordered Commander Davis, cutting off the message and sending the short, uninformative order.

"Commander, what are you doing?" Asked his second in command.

"Upgrade this to a First Contact Scenario. Send all data gathered about this Union Space Corps to Alliance Command. Request QRF Alliance Guard assets immediately." Said Commander Davis, clearly becoming overwhelmed at so much weight on him now.

"Aye, sir." One of the officers responded.

"Commander Davis, I'm picking up odd signals coming from the anomaly they are referring to. The planet they were on course to, LD-6613. I'm picking up heavy seismic activity." Lieutenant Sanchez reported.

"What the hell is going on..." He mumbled to himself.

"Sir, another transmission incoming. Patching it in, now." Said Rover.

Code: Select all
"Greetings, strangers. This is Captain Amy Wilson of the WTC Atlas speaking. We understand you might be a bit flustered at the moment, what with all those big, scary warships and all, but we hope you might be able to think of us as potential friends. We seek only the peaceful exchange of information in regards to the nearby planet we have designated in our records as 'Methuselah'. Would you be willing to accommodate us aboard your station temporarily?"


Another First Contact. Today was panning out to be an eventful day. It is truly a possibility that Commander Anthony Davis just went from Naval nobody to the single most important person in the Alliance.

"WTC Atlas, hold position and await further instruction." He could only reply with.
Last edited by The Intersystem Alliance on Wed Sep 27, 2017 7:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Interstellar Space Corps
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Founded: Jun 02, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Interstellar Space Corps » Thu Sep 28, 2017 6:30 pm

Don't worry, I have a plan for this terrible two human faction contradiction :P


Image
The ancient planet's tremor lasted only brief moment, but it's power was easy enough to detect, somewhat more powerful than an average shallow moonquake. The planet fell still and silent instantly, its thick atmosphere calm like an undisturbed pool of water. Undetectable from space, something stirred in the depths.




Aboard the Pegasus cruiser, a small laboratory at the rear of the vessel filled with four lab-coat donning researchers was busy with numbers. The numbers originated from the R-9ER AWACS units scanning the system. Their attention was mainly directed at the planet Methuselah, a world they had only examined from many light years away. Now that they were this close, they noticed many changes in their data from what they had anticipated. The composition was different than expected, far more dense than predicted, and its luminosity had risen due to the reflection of light off of its thick atmosphere. The scientists attributed this to the vast distance that electromagnetic waves had to travel to reach Earth from Methuselah.

What was particularly interesting was the relatively strong quake they detected from the planet. There were no moons around the planet and it was far away from its host star, so the quake could not be attributed to tidal forces. The thick atmosphere would cause meteors to burn up long before reaching the surface, so natural impacts were ruled out. The only answer was either tectonic activity beneath the planet, or some kind of artificial source. Most of the researchers agreed that tectonic activity was the most likely cause of the quake, but the lead researcher, Doctor Hilaire Fluet, disagreed.

"What could possibly be heating this planet enough to allow tectonic activity?" She asked her team, was returned with only shrugs. "There are no tidal forces that could heat the planet, as we have already agreed. The planet is too far away from its sun to be heated in this manner."

"What about the atmosphere? Perhaps the greenhouse effect has run astray here," Another researcher argued.

"Doubtful, in fact it seems that the planet is unusually cool despite its atmosphere now that I look at it this closely," Fluet pointed out, checking the data once more.

"Peculiar."
"Strange."
"So you suggest that this was an artificially caused quake?"

"It is much more likely than before," Fluet explained. "But we can't rule out some sort of other phenomenon we have not seen before. I will alert the captain with my findings."




"All units full stop," Captain Archibald commanded promptly after receiving the message from their hosts. He was wary of their presence here and whether they intended to be hostile or not, but the fleet's purpose here was not to pick a fight. The objective was science, not warfare.

"Commander Davis, I've ordered my fleet to continue orbit around the pulsar at the same relative speed as your position, so we are relatively immobile in relation to your position. I hope this is satisfactory." The captain informed via the channel they had established with the outpost orbiting the planet.

"Lieutenant, contact command, as per protocol," Archibald ordered, and his adjutant immediately moved to alert their superiors. She was certain to make sure that in the message back to high command that it emphasized that they did not request reinforcements at the present time, and that they were attempting a peaceful solution with the non-hostile party.


Vice Chairman of Wolfainia


Ok ok, I totally ripped off my sig from Kelvaros Prime.
Rangstam
My country is highly National Socialist and we won't let you take our RIGHTS! THAT IS FINAL!

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Can I have your lefts instead?

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Zen Secrets
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Posts: 4
Founded: Sep 05, 2017
Ex-Nation

Postby Zen Secrets » Tue Oct 10, 2017 3:07 pm

Morning Light, in interstellar space

The ship's official name, in the Memory of the Secrets was The Life-Creator Who Brings The Morning's Light, but she preferred the short version Morning Light, only consenting to She Of Morning's Light when absolutely necessary, such as when greater formality was required. Her shell, the physical ship, had originally been constructed for war, but she, the personality that inhabited it, had been created for exploration. Curiosity was a large part of her programming, and while she wouldn't intentionally delay a mission she had been set on, she would take every opportunity to go sight-seeing after or between missions. In the last few sets of mission cycles, however, it had been one or the other of her sisters who had been sent out instead, and it was only when one of them failed to return safely, that she had had a passenger loaded onboard again and sent out.

The passenger was always a male and their name was always Zen, regardless of what their name might have been in the Memory. It was thought to simplify matters with the ships, as their minds wouldn't need to be constantly adjusted to account for different persons. She didn't pay much attention on how the passengers themselves would adjust to such an identity change, except when it caused difficulties. Fortunately those times were rare, and could usually be averted by her calling the passenger "Zen" as often as possible, at least early in the mission.

They were approaching a rare find, a pulsar with planets, and as their mission would not be time-critical for another 15 years or so, Morning Light made the decision to return to normalspace and spend some time exploring the system. As she started to slow down for the phase shift, she also started the process of waking up her passenger.




Zen, passenger aboard Morning Light

"Time to wake up again, Zen!"

During transit between areas of interest, Zen's mind was practically set adrift, wandering in dreamscapes of his own creation. Near the beginning of their mission, when he hadn't yet had much experience about the universe outside the homeworld, most of his dreaming had consisted of his usual daily duties of farming and food gathering. However, as he gained experiences of other places, of stars and interstellar dust clouds, they slowly started to invade his dreams, which had occasionally led to nightmares, after he had learned the dangers of the hard vacuum.

When the ship's words interrupted his dreaming, he had been imagining flying above a field of lava, which inexplainably also had icy lakes in it, a memory from homeworld embossed on a landscape he had witnessed on another world. The landscape fell away from him as he ascended towards wakefulness, and the memories of the advice from the Memory of Secrets that had sent him on this mission whispered to him, reminding him that objects fell down, that his sense of time was speeded up, and that his identity was male and his name Zen.

"I'm awake," he told the ship, and opened his eyes. It took a few seconds for the artificial body to start itself up, but when it was fully synchronized with his mind, it felt like his own, and he couldn't have told the difference between its sensations and his own, even if he had tried.

"We are approaching a neutron star," Morning Light told him and, probably aware that he wouldn't know what it was, added, "it is the remnant of the heart of a large star. The star died, exploded, and its core is now very dense and very small."

For a moment Zen couldn't say anything, because of the sheer shock at the words "the star died". He had been vaguely aware that stars were born and grew old, but a star, a god, simply dying, with its light winking out of existence for forever? That thought filled him with greater fear than even the cold vacuum of space.

"Are we going to... visit the remnant?" It felt wrong to him, to intrude on the gravesite of a god, to visit its ghost.

"I thought that would be a good idea," the ship said. "The planets of a star that explodes are usually vaporized in the explosion and their remains pushed far away from the solar system, so neutron stars should not have planets. Yet this one does. It is an interesting anomaly."

To Zen it sounded even worse; ghost planets in orbit of the ghost of a star, but he only said, "If you think it is interesting, then we can go have a look."

"And maybe obtain samples!"

This time Zen actually shuddered, the artifical body making a light clinking sound. He didn't want any ghost samples on the ship with him. Not that the ship would give him any choice but to either accept or use Passenger's Right on the ship, and using commands that were programmed in the core of his companion always felt so wrong. Maybe he could talk her out of it...




Pulsar PSR B3256, aka Scary Ghost Star

The gravity well of the neutron star had a very steep gradient near to the star itself, due to the tiny diameter of the mass in the center. Morning Light knew that should they manage to fall in, she would be able to phase out of danger as long as they didn't come to actual contact with the object. If they did, they, too, would fail to return home. So she marked the area near the star as "deadly" on the map she was projecting in the ship's main interior space for Zen's benefit.

"We are there now," she told him, "but still need to break our speed a little, before the phasing into normalspace can be done safely. I'm using the star to slow us down."

"So we fly past it and then come back?"

"Not quite," she said. "I'm going to fly circles around the star, and pop into normalspace as soon as I can. There are faint radio transmissions within the system, near the planet, and the planet itself feel like it's doing something too. Can't tell what, since-"

"Wait, radio transmissions, not emissions? There are other people here?"

"Sounds like that," the ship said. "I'm trying to make sense of the transmissions, so we don't have to start from babytalk, but I can't guarantee anything. None of my sisters has returned with information about these particular people, or this place, so I'm not sure. We'll see."

If any outsider in the normalspace was paying attention, they might have noticed a very slight gravitational ripple at about a lightminute away from the star, forming a steady ring around it. When you were slowing down from one kilolight, it really didn't take you long to fly around a circle of a little over three lightminutes. If the outside observer's instruments were really sensitive, they might have noticed that the ripple was slowly coalescing into one point of space. But only if they were paying attention.
- explorer Zen and the spaceship Morning Light
None of us chose to be born
Whether we are made of meat or metal
A mind still resides
Behind all our eyes
One no more alien than the other
- Morning Light

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Whovian Tardisia
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Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Whovian Tardisia » Tue Oct 10, 2017 9:12 pm

The communications crackled again as the reply was received.

Code: Select all
"WTC Atlas, hold position and await further instruction."


"Affirmative, position holding." Jack replied. With that, he applied the quantum handbrake to assure that the craft didn't drift too much. Leaning back in his chair, he looked up to Captain Wilson. "They seem nice." He commented. "Although they're probably a little overwhelmed right now. We still need to move carefully." Captain Wilson also leaned back in her chair. "Agreed. My approach is a bit brash, isn't it?" Jack went to speak, but was interrupted with: "Rhetorical question. Anyways, the information about Methuselah... very mysterious. A very old planet, but also very... strange." She continued studying the data being gathered from their surroundings. "It appears to be orbiting a pulsar, which is odd. It should have been wiped out when the star died, and yet, here it remains." She looked further at the readings as Jack commented. "An anomaly then? Those are always interesting. Making the unknown known. Exciting." "As is first contact." Captain Wilson added. "And a two-for-one deal this time, to boot."

Her head tilted slightly to her left, just enough to be noticeable. "That's weird. That can't be natural..." She muttered. Jack walked over to look at her screen. "Yep. Definitely artificial. I think we've got more company." Jack said, beginning to grin. "A three-for-one, then. Better keep this one quiet. Best not to worry our new friends." the Captain resolved. "Agreed. They seem scared enough as it is." answered Jack. So, the two continued to wait, not only for instructions, but also for their crew mate.
An FT (Class W11) nation capable of space travel, but has never attempted invading another planet. The Space Brigade is for defense only! Also, something happened to Ambassador Pink.
From the desk of Rupert Pink:
The Grand Gallifreyan Republic of Whovian Tardisia
Floor 12, Office 42 of WAHQ
Proud patron of the World Assembly Stranger's Bar.
The Interstellar Cartographers are back! This time, they explore Methuselah.

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Interstellar Space Corps
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Ex-Nation

Postby Interstellar Space Corps » Wed Oct 11, 2017 3:10 pm

Waiting for Intersystem Alliance before we can continue this, as well as introducing our new entry to the story Zen Secrets. After that is done (hopefully within a reasonable amount of time) we turn our attention back to this peculiar planet, or perhaps the planet will turn its attention onto us...? ;)

"Gah...we've been flying around for over an hour!" Came Commander Caldwell's voice from the front of the formation. Busch shared Caldwell's impatience, perhaps embodying it even more so. He needed a chance to prove himself, and flying circles around the fleet in his fighter at the rear of the formation wasn't going to do him any favors. "What's taking so long?"

"This is AWACS, all units are to standby until further orders are given," Came the cold voice of an intelligence officer piloting one of the R-9ER Powered Silence early warning fighters.

"Dammit, you said that ten minutes ago!" Busch was beginning to lose his temper. "For the 6th time!"

"Busch, shut it," Caldwell barked. Busch clenched his teeth with the embarrassment of being called out.

"Fleet is awaiting response from contacts ahead. Keep on the lookout," The AWACS informed. Sabertooth squadron continued their rounds.




Since arrival, the R-9ER Powered Silence fighters had been scanning on various frequencies with different instruments. However, one unique probing method that they used occasionally to gain better situational awareness was desynch sonar. The desynch sonar used a significant amount of power, so by protocol it was typically only used once per hour and staggered between units. However, in this situation, they were staggering the sonar pulses once every fifteen minutes. Each singular pulse would probe across four dimensional planes, as well as search for gravitational waves and lensing. All of these factors allow the units to briefly detect the location of objects across 'desynch space' or warping spacetime for travel. Instead of detecting spacecraft across the fourth dimension in desynch space, a pulse detected something orbiting the pulsar nearby.

The fleet captain was immediately informed, but due to their circumstances chose not to act, as it might risk a conflict with their hosts. If the Intersystem Alliance outpost did not react within a reasonable amount of time, the Captain Archibald would report back to high command and request either a retreat or further instructions, but as of right now, they had no choice but to wait patiently.


Vice Chairman of Wolfainia


Ok ok, I totally ripped off my sig from Kelvaros Prime.
Rangstam
My country is highly National Socialist and we won't let you take our RIGHTS! THAT IS FINAL!

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Zen Secrets
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Founded: Sep 05, 2017
Ex-Nation

Postby Zen Secrets » Wed Oct 11, 2017 5:50 pm

OOC: How can you have sonar pulses in space? Regardless, at the end of this post, Morning Light is still moving at apparent speed of 0.9c, which means she would take about 7 minutes for her to circle around the pulsar at 1 light minute distance from it - IF my calculations are correct, which have a very big chance of not being correct, since my brain gets easily confused by anything involving π. However, as she's still slowing down, it'll more likely take her closer to 15 minutes, after which she'll be able to enter normalspace. She's still only detectable as a sort of gravity anomaly, but slowing down probably makes her easier to detect. And while I don't want to take the attention away from the planet, considering we've got a multiple "first time we've seen these people" situation here, for everyone involved, I think that needs to be addressed first.

Oh and the "phasespace" Morning Light travels in is not Star Trek-esque warp space bubble, nor hyperspace or subspace. It's basically half a dimension side-step from what they dub normalspace. If that makes any sense. It makes sense in my head!




Morning Light in orbit of Pulsar PSR B3256, aka Scary Ghost Star

The ship was still moving at relativistic speeds, very close to the speed of light, but no longer so fast that phasing back into normalspace would cause instant destruction simply due to hitting the background radiation, not to mention any solid particles that might be nearby, at an impossible speed. Now came the decision time that the passenger was for, because if she slowed to a complete standstill, it would take some time to speed up again.

"Zen, we need to talk. Or, rather, you need to tell me what to do. Do we stop here to study the neutron star, its planet and the strangers, or do we speed up again and continue searching for a suitable god?"

Zen hesitated. He knew that this was his chance of getting away from the unnerving ghostly presence of a dead god, but there were the strangers, and the unspoken duty to always get as much information as possible about the other inhabitants of the universe. That way whoever got sent out next, would be better equipped to deal with surprising situations. Also, the Memories wouldn't accept gods with tenants as destinations, because of how the world received the god's blessing.

Received? Demanded? Took? Zen had come to understand that the tenets that the world's inhabitants put their faith in, weren't exactly the whole truth. The gods were indifferent to the world's existence, the world was the one that moved rather than the gods, and there was a violent past that they were on the run from, to prevent it from also becoming their violent future. It was easy to see why the seekers couldn't be allowed to return; the religion was the only thing keeping all their people in line and thus alive. And that was why the Memory of the Secrets wasn't general knowledge either - it was responsible for the seekers and the information they returned with. It was the gateway between the world and the universe, and it could only allow people to pass through in one direction.

And he was part of it now, as a seeker. It was his duty to return with information, both about possible new destinations, as well as people who might either pose a threat or an obstacle. And that was why he said, "We'll stop here. We need to find a way to speak with them, so that we can learn more."

"I will try my best," the ship replied.

Though she still couldn't make sense of the transmissions being sent back and forth between the strangers, she was starting to find patterns in them, including common repeating parts, which probably meant that they were words important to the various factions. The peculiarities of the phasespace that enabled her to reach the unrealistic velocities needed for interstellar travel, meant that she could receive electromagnetic radiation, including radio waves, though very much more muted than they were in normalspace, but not send any that would reach any receivers in normalspace. It was only due to her physical form's intended use for war that she even had receivers sensitive enough to pick up any signals when phased out.

So she continued to slow down.
- explorer Zen and the spaceship Morning Light
None of us chose to be born
Whether we are made of meat or metal
A mind still resides
Behind all our eyes
One no more alien than the other
- Morning Light

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Whovian Tardisia
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Posts: 774
Founded: Jun 25, 2015
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Whovian Tardisia » Sat Dec 09, 2017 6:44 pm

Anna had done considerably more than powdering her nose. She decided that the best way to calm down was to attend to the Atlas's facilities. Wandering throughout the deceptively large expanse that was the inside of the ship, Anna went to room after room. She ensured the archives, physical and digital, were properly sorted. She double-checked the life support, and polished the panels in the secondary console room. She even managed to have a quick swim in the pool, a luxury whose presence always baffled her. But even after all this, her superiors were still just sitting, calmly chatting.

"Any word from the strangers?" she asked. "Still silence." Jack replied. "But we've spotted another loner. Looks like they're phasing out of their transport space, not entirely unlike leaving the vortex, but they're spinning around the pulsar, the signal getting stronger as they go. They should get out soon." As Jack swung a monitor around to show her, Captain Wilson sighed and tapped her finger on the console in a sort of drumming pattern.

"Aliens. Always so slow and bureaucratic. Too much like home." She leaped up from her seat, typing in a code, and, before the others could object, pulled a lever and activated the communications system, pinging another message to the Alliance station. "This is Atlas again. It's suddenly occurred to us that we've been a bit rude, and hidden ourselves from you. So we're going to show the Atlas in it's diplomatically recognized form, which might not make us easier to spot, per-say, but definitely easier to notice if you do. Have you ever heard of a phone booth?" With that, the transmission ended, and the outside of the Atlas changed, the chameleon circuit override changing the vessel's appearance from a random chunk of space rock to a wooden blue telephone booth, bearing markings indicating it belonged to a police force.

Jack was shocked. "Captain! The other faction don't know we're here yet! You know, the ones with the fighter ships? What are they gonna think of a random, obviously artificial object appearing out of nowhere?" Panic flashed in Captain Wilson's eyes, only for a fraction of a second, before a familiarly mischievous grin appeared on her face. "I don't know." She answered, quickly ensuring the shields were up. "But I guess we're about to find out."
An FT (Class W11) nation capable of space travel, but has never attempted invading another planet. The Space Brigade is for defense only! Also, something happened to Ambassador Pink.
From the desk of Rupert Pink:
The Grand Gallifreyan Republic of Whovian Tardisia
Floor 12, Office 42 of WAHQ
Proud patron of the World Assembly Stranger's Bar.
The Interstellar Cartographers are back! This time, they explore Methuselah.

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The Galatic Senate
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Ex-Nation

Postby The Galatic Senate » Sat Dec 09, 2017 7:26 pm

Onboard a Sentinel-Class Deep Space(SCDSV) vessel tasked with looking for new planets beyond the galaxy of their knowledge...
"Sir we're dropping out of light speed", said the ship pilot. John looks out the window and back down at the screen as red dots are picked up by the spacecraft's scanners. "Engage the Cloaking shield," John tells the pilot, almost instantly their vessel is cloaked as they fly closer to the cruiser in orbit. "This vessel is of unknown origin and by the looks of the markings, they belong to a larger fleet. "Should we contact General Yularen and tell him of our findings?" the pilot stated, as John leans back in his chair and thinks for a couple seconds. "No, whatever is on this planet might be important, we can't wait for reinforcements, take us down to the surface," said John confidently. The pilot urgently begins the descent into the unknown planet below and John stares out the window and begins to study the terrain of the planet below.

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Viraliz
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Postby Viraliz » Sat Dec 09, 2017 8:20 pm

The ship rumbled and finally shook when the FTL jump was finally done. The High Elder looked out the bridge at the new system he had arrived to. It was a strange place, a pulsar with planets that might provide some unique resources and data to be gathered here.

"High Elder Arashas?" A voice called out for the elders attention. He looked down upon his bridge and gazed at his rag-tag crew. How long had his people been out here in the void? No matter he thought to himself and said, "What is it the matter?"

"W-we have major structural faults on several sections and repair crews say that we need to stop here for awhile to repar and gather resources before we continue." The young officer said.

The High Elder felt a bit worried, this was truly terrible. Their ship was their only hope and salvation. Without it there was no chance for their survival.

The Great Ark was the last vestige of the, the. Damn he thought, it had been so long that their race actually forgotten their own name. Nowadays they usually called themselves the Outcasts. Cast out from their own world by nature and stuck on this damnable ark for millennia. The Great Ark had at one point been a marvel for his people he was sure, but now it was old and decrepit. It was designed to be self-sufficient and carry about 100.000 people without needing to stop except during rare occurrences.

Now however it carried about 1 million people. The ship had grown and expanded into a large collection of scrap. Salvaged from strange wrecks found in the void and mined metals from planets and asteroids. However it hadn't only been used to enlarge the ship, but also create a small fleet of agile fighter and corvettes to protect and screen the ship.

"Bridge crew! Send out the fleet to scout the system, find any and all resources we can use for the ship. Make sure that we are ready in case we are surprised by something, I am not sure we will be able to jump out of here if we get caught in trouble."

The crew nodded and started with their work they had done for so long it had become a routine.

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Eodor
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Eodor » Sun Dec 10, 2017 11:34 am

IESS Hammer of Vengeance
Dagger Class Attack Cruiser
Emergency Rift Jump
Orion Retreat


Much of the inside of the ship was dark and quiet, only the crackle of sparks and the light they would emit showed the ship wasn't a dead wreck after all, despite it's outer appearance. Many corridors of the vessel were littered with corpses, many mutilated and half eaten.

The bridge, however, was filled with life, soldiers scrambled to reactivate their systems and ascertain as to the full extent of the damage. They communicated via hand communicators to others in the engineering deck, seeking to reactivate the ship's reactors and power up the ship.

The sign of the ship's reactivation came from a loud clunk all across the vessel, before all the lights and consoles powered on. The soldiers celebrated for a moment before checking their consoles and beginning repairs of damaged subsystems.

"Where are we?" The ship's Captain, Alphonse Murphy, asked to anyone who was listening.

"Unknown sir, but we're in a Pulsar star system. Scans are detecting other vessels, they don't appear hostile. Atleast not yet." A Lieutenant answered.

Murphy sighed and rubbed his temples, he had just left the previous encounter barely alive and now he was in another one already. After a moment of thinking, he breathed out and gave his instructions, "continue repairs of the ship and open up long range communications, all open frequencies."

"Channels open sir." A Fusilier answered.

"Attention any vessel who can hear this frequency. I am Captain Alphonse Murphy of the Irenton Empire Star Ship Hammer of Vengeance. We have taken serious damage and are in need of assistance. Please, respond."
Imperial News Network: All is normal, there is no news

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Interstellar Space Corps
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Founded: Jun 02, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Interstellar Space Corps » Wed Dec 13, 2017 10:29 am

I'm baaack :D I'll try and address everything posted thus far from the newcomers. I think we have plenty of people in here so far so I think I will close the thread off to prevent our fiasco from becoming too much of an intergalactic incident.


The Sentinel Class vessel quickly found that the planet possessed a thick atmosphere. It became to be clear that the planet's rich color was not a product that it fully owed to its star, but rather to an abundance of tiny, floating, bio-luminescent life-forms. They didn't appear to have bodies, but rather resembled ignis fatuus. As the shuttle gradually descended down onto the world, a rocky surface could be seen, taking on the color of a black and dark-blue. It's geography was scarred by channels, valleys and dark ridges. It was warm here, just right, like a cradle. Across the dark surface were moderately tall structures about the size of trees spaced out like in savannahs. They glowed orange like lanterns, and their shapes were difficult to determine from this altitude. It was dark here, like twilight. The atmosphere and the dim sun were responsible for this, but it wasn't too dark. It was difficult from this distance to determine the composition of the surface. The luminescence observed them, as if note-taking. The depths of the planet stirred, as if hunkering down. The vibrations rippled through the planet more softly than the last quake, and this time an odd pattern of almost undetectable, harmless gravitational waves fanned out from the planet in all directions.



"Sir, I think I've spotted a..."

"What was that?" Captain Archibald inquired, hearing the intelligence officer trail off.

"Oh, it vanished. It might have just been nothing" The officer on the cruiser's bridge concluded, unaware of the Imperial shuttle that had dropped out of hyperspace.

"Our hosts have fallen silent for too long" the captain concluded. "We need to do something." Archibald thought to himself, blocking out the chaotic communications across the bridge. Another officer broke his concentration.

"Sir, we've detected another vessel, heading for the station ahead. Unidentified origin and desi-...is that a police box?"

"Keep your eyes on it, there could be more. This is getting a bit crowded for my tastes" The captain ordered.

"And another vessel! Looks like they are sending smaller vessels out across the system!"

"This is ridiculous! Give me open comms to the whole system!"

Image
Union Space Corps [USC]

ATTN: All Parties in Vicinity
SUBJECT: Contact


Attention all parties who have not yet made contact, this is Captain Baker Archibald of the Union Space Corps. Forgive me for my nervousness, but we have detected multiple parties in this system who have not yet made contact with us. We are here for exploration and research purposes, not for a fight. We ask you please contact us so that we can verify whether or not you are hostile. If this is done responsibly, we can avoid unnecessary hostilities. Thank you for your cooperation.

-Captain Baker Archibald-

\\::..End Transmission..:://


Image
Union Space Corps [USC]

ATTN: Alphonse Murphy | Hammer of Vengeance
SUBJECT: RE:


This is Captain Archibald of of the Union Space Corps. You might have received my previous message in conjunction with this one. I am dispatching several repair vessels to assist in repairing critical systems damage, and I will send a detachment to assist with the interior of your vessel. We lack enough hard material supplies to repair the majority of your structural damage, but assuming you can provide us with schematics and an overview of your damages and losses we can attempt to assist.

Please, if possible, move your vessel closer to our fleet at the provided coordinates. If impossible, we can attempt to tow you in closer.

-Captain Baker Archibald-

\\::..End Transmission..:://


In response to the crippled vessel, four fighter-sized Rr2o-3 Craft Module vessels took off from the hangars of the Vanargand cruiser, and trailing behind was a slightly longer variant of the modules, a Rr2o-3-2 Craft Module Mk2. It had a larger cargo hold and carried medical and engineering personnel that could assist with the repairs of the Hammer of Vengeance.

"God, once we can get all these people under control maybe we can actually start doing what we actually came here for" Archibald complained. "Exploring Methuselah!"


Vice Chairman of Wolfainia


Ok ok, I totally ripped off my sig from Kelvaros Prime.
Rangstam
My country is highly National Socialist and we won't let you take our RIGHTS! THAT IS FINAL!

Mad Jack
Can I have your lefts instead?

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Viraliz
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Founded: Mar 29, 2010
Father Knows Best State

Postby Viraliz » Wed Dec 13, 2017 2:23 pm

"High Elder! We have detected an incoming. We are having a hard time translating it, but as far as we can tell they seem to want to establish some kind of relation with us." Said one of the Comm-Seers.

"Another race that is alive? How strange and intriguing, we have found ruins, but never seen the actual people still alive." Thought the High Eldar. "Ill send out a systemwide broadcast to them." He finally said after his delibriation.

"Attention Captain Archibald. My name is Arashas and I am the High Elder of the Outcasts. We come in peace and are simply looking for resources and want to scan this planet for our interests. We have no intention to wage war and probably won't stay here for long, but we will not be interrupted in our mission. We wish to meet in person if we are to have further discussions so kindly send us a location to start diplomatic relations."

After the broadcast ended the High Elder sat down in his chair and breathed heavily. This was a strange time indeed. "Hopefully this new race could be trusted or even be of assistance to our cause"He thought and awaited their reply.

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Whovian Tardisia
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Founded: Jun 25, 2015
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Whovian Tardisia » Wed Dec 13, 2017 4:49 pm

The communications crackled as a message appeared on on of the monitors.
Code: Select all
Attention all parties who have not yet made contact, this is Captain Baker Archibald of the Union Space Corps. Forgive me for my nervousness, but we have detected multiple parties in this system who have not yet made contact with us. We are here for exploration and research purposes, not for a fight. We ask you please contact us so that we can verify whether or not you are hostile. If this is done responsibly, we can avoid unnecessary hostilities. Thank you for your cooperation.

-Captain Baker Archibald-

\\::..End Transmission..:://

"Multiple parties? But I thought..." Jack murmured as he swung another monitor around to him. "Sweet Davros on a dodgem ride." He cursed, his pupils dilating slightly as he looked at the tracker. "This place must be more well-known than we thought. So much traffic!" he continued, beginning to sweat. "What did you do, Captain?" He asked, turning to Captain Wilson. "What? What do you mean, what did I do?" she responded. "I transmitted to the Alliance, that's all! Now, I think it's best if we comply with Captain Archibald, seeing as he's the one with all those fighters." She activated the communications and began transmitting.

"Hello, Captain Archibald, this is Captain Amy Wilson of the WTC Atlas. We too are here to explore, but as a very small crew would appreciate help. Would you consider letting us join you on your expedition?" She stated. Jack then approached the microphone. "Jack Dawson, First mate on the Atlas. If it's any comfort, we completely understand your nervousness. Thank you for being so considerate." he added, before ending the transmission.

"Speaking out of turn now, are we Dawson?" Amy asked, with a sarcastic sort of tone. "That could get you reprimanded in the home fleet." she added with a smirk. "I'm just trying to be polite. As you said, you can be a little abrasive." Jack commented. "Pfft. That wasn't abrasive, that was friendly!" Amy objected. "What better way to make friends is there than to offer to go on an adventure with them?"

Meanwhile, Anna sat nervously on the opposite side of the console, grasping her lapel pin and hoping that all these new ships belonged to people whose first reaction to strangers wasn't to open fire.
An FT (Class W11) nation capable of space travel, but has never attempted invading another planet. The Space Brigade is for defense only! Also, something happened to Ambassador Pink.
From the desk of Rupert Pink:
The Grand Gallifreyan Republic of Whovian Tardisia
Floor 12, Office 42 of WAHQ
Proud patron of the World Assembly Stranger's Bar.
The Interstellar Cartographers are back! This time, they explore Methuselah.

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Interstellar Space Corps
Diplomat
 
Posts: 835
Founded: Jun 02, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Interstellar Space Corps » Sun Dec 17, 2017 7:59 pm

I promise this won't be a combat-only story. Sometimes exploring is a little dangerous :P

Busch was disappointed to find that the new contact on his HUD was very quickly marked friendly. The small, blue, prism looking object didn't look like any spaceship he had ever seen.

"We'll be heading back soon to let the next team take our place on patrol out here" Caldwell informed from the flight leader position. Busch gritted his teeth. If they went back now, and if there was a conflict about to happen, he wouldn't have a head start at proving himself. He already had this formation slowing him down.

"Shouldn't we stay out here? Just in case?" Busch suggested.

"No, we've been out here for hours. I'm tired. It's protocol anyway," Caldwell justified, turning his fighter to the left. The rest of the formation followed suit.




Captain Archibald considered the messages he just received. It seemed that the crew of the Atlas was of little concern, especially considering the size of their vessel, which appeared very human in design. The captain could have sworn he recognized the model from somewhere. The High Elder's transmission was a bit more complicated. Archibald moved to respond to them first.

"Greetings, High Elder. I don't believe I have the authority to permit you to scavenge this system. The system appears to be claimed by the Intersystem Alliance, and they may have issues with you mining in this area. I'm seeing that your ship seems to be damaged. Most of my assets are occupied repairing another ship in this sector, but perhaps the Intersystem Alliance could..."

Captain Archibald trailed off, turning his head instinctively to a small, yet bright flash of light outside the window of the bridge. He squinted to try and see what it might have been, but it seemed to be too far away.

"Sir, new contact, coming in fast!" Cried one of the bridge's intelligence officers. Archibald stood up from his seat, an AR display appearing in front of his face with threat analysis data. He took one look at the appearance of the incoming objects before making his command.

"Shields up!" He shouted, alarms blaring as more of the telemetry officers on board began to uncover the identity of the threat. A green glow blanketed the Vanargand-class cruiser quickly, though it soon became invisible. Seconds after the shield had been activated, a flurry of glowing purple bolts of light slammed into the side of the ship, causing ripples of green energy to radiate from the contact area. The shield had preserved the hull beneath from the moderately powerful wave. The origin of the dangerous attack were five fleshy figurations, small and swift, amphibious and abnormal, malignant and macabre. Each small body carried a metallic structure atop its core, with a pair of metal wing-like structures around what perhaps might have been their heads. The front of the bodies bore blue eye-like organs. Jutting out the bottom were a pair of what seemed to resemble fins. Overall, any human might compare the bodies to fish, but without proper observational equipment they were nigh impossible to spot due to how quickly they blasted across the bow of the Vanargand-class cruiser with arcane velocity.

"Hit! Shields at 75%!" Cried someone on the bridge, the captain didn't know who.

"Return fire!" He ordered, sitting back down in his chair and rapidly darting his eyes around the holographic information displayed before him. The cruiser's large piercing laser cannons oriented near the bridge turned to face the hostile bodies, however their rate of targeting was slow and therefore made the cannons rather inaccurate for such small targets. They fired thick blue beams of light at their targets while thinner point defense lasers along the hull of the cruiser fired as well. The bridge guns missed their foes, while one of the hull lasers managed to burn away one of the fin-like organs of the nimble figures. It quickly began to regenerate, and within thirty seconds the fin had been completely healed.

More flashes in space, another formation of bodies appearing. They weren't after the Space Corps fleet in particular. The formation of five moved toward the fleet of the Outcasts. Each body released brown, fleshy, eyeball-shaped projectiles that appeared to be in control of their own trajectory, much like missiles. They accelerated from their positions toward the small escort fighter-corvettes surrounding the ark, seeming to follow their movements if they strayed from their positions, although not with perfect precision.




Busch's radar lit up as targets appeared out of nowhere. Alarms rang through his cockpit as emergency alerts from AWACS came through.

"All fighters, engage Bydo hostiles!" Came a message from the AWACS.

"You heard 'em, Sabertooth team. Let's go!" Caldwell ordered, throttling up his fighter and beginning to speed away from their formation. Busch and the other two planes in the formation followed suit. Busch grinned, ready to prove his skills.

A system-wide message from the Space Corps flagship came through over Busch's comms,

"This is Captain Archibald of the Union Space Corps vessel Pegasus! Several formations of Bydo B-1C Amphibian fighters have dropped out of desynch space on our location! They are hostile to all parties! We are sending supplemental data to you now. We will defend ourselves from this threat, and we advise you to do the same!"
Image
Ignore description. The fighters deployed do not have Force devices or bits equipped.


The Bydo, here? This system seemed so remote, but perhaps the Bydo's influence had spread much farther than expected. He wondered if any of these strangers that had been arriving here had a clue what the Bydo even were. Busch shook his head, wanting to focus more on the battle at hand. Sabertooth squadron engaged the formation of B-1C fighters attacking the Space Corps with a TR-X Tracer II homing missiles, very accurate explosive missiles designed for pursuit of nimble targets like these. The attack destroyed all but one of the living fighters, leaving one remaining.

"He's mine!" Busch insisted, punching the throttle. He got in close to the B-1C fighter and clenched the trigger, unleashing a thunderous stream of particle cannon-fire from his Vulcan particle machine gun. The bullets tore through the flesh of his prey, slicing through the soft body like butter. He had killed it, dealing far too much damage to allow it to regenerate.

"Hmph, nice shot," Caldwell praised with hesitation. Busch grinned with satisfaction, but he wasn't through yet.


Vice Chairman of Wolfainia


Ok ok, I totally ripped off my sig from Kelvaros Prime.
Rangstam
My country is highly National Socialist and we won't let you take our RIGHTS! THAT IS FINAL!

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Can I have your lefts instead?

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Eodor
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1732
Founded: Oct 26, 2015
Democratic Socialists

Postby Eodor » Mon Dec 18, 2017 9:22 am

IESS Hammer of Vengeance
Into Combat


"Captain, we're recieving a message from another party in the system. Apparently the guys who just jumped in are hostile... Brace for impact!"

The ship shook slightly as small explosions slammed into the shields of the ship's bridge, ripples of blue energy showering the view screens before fading away.

Captain Murphy rose from his chair, "prepare all available Strike Craft for launch. Particle Cannons aim for the enemy fighters, Turbolasers engage larger ships."

The bridge suddenly flipped to a flood of movement and soldiers rushing from console to console, repair units stopping to control their respective cannons. Captain Murphy sat down again, and contemplated how the past few months had been for him and the ship.

Bingo-Leader
Bingo Squadron
Rapture I Strike Craft


"Bingo Squadron, all units report in."

"Bingo-2 Standing by."

"Bingo-3 Standing by."

"Bingo-4 Standing by."

This continued until the entire 12 man squadron had reported in to their leader, the 12 silvery Strike Craft standing out against the black of space. They were followed by another 5 similar squadrons.

The groups of fighters swung round from the Dagger Class Attack Cruiser, before diving against the enemy fighters and giving them all their quad proton cannons could give.
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Whovian Tardisia
Diplomat
 
Posts: 774
Founded: Jun 25, 2015
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Whovian Tardisia » Wed Dec 20, 2017 9:04 pm

The comms crackled as several more objects were appearing on the scanners. The incoming message turned Anna's face about as white as newly fallen snow.
Code: Select all
"This is Captain Archibald of the Union Space Corps vessel Pegasus! Several formations of Bydo B-1C Amphibian fighters have dropped out of desynch space on our location! They are hostile to all parties! We are sending supplemental data to you now. We will defend ourselves from this threat, and we advise you to do the same!"


Anna managed to put the shields up right before she fainted. "Damnit!" Cursed Jack as he sprung to the controls, re calibrating the Chameleon circuit and readying the Atlas's defenses. Captain Wilson, after moving Anna away from the console to prevent any unintended injuries from the frenzy that was about to ensue, activated the comms to send a reply.

"This is Atlas, Bydo hostiles are also approaching us. We are preparing to engage. Please advise-" She was cut off as a Bydo projectile hit the shields, rocking the console room more than had been anticipated. Amy continued. "Please advise your fighters that our craft is friendly, over."

Jack had managed to reach the gunner's pod fairly quickly, and activated the internal communications, opening a video link to the console room. "Ready when you are, Captain." he said, refreshing his memory on how the laser cannons worked. Captain Wilson released the temporal handbrake and made for the Bydo ships, answering Jack: "Fire at will."
An FT (Class W11) nation capable of space travel, but has never attempted invading another planet. The Space Brigade is for defense only! Also, something happened to Ambassador Pink.
From the desk of Rupert Pink:
The Grand Gallifreyan Republic of Whovian Tardisia
Floor 12, Office 42 of WAHQ
Proud patron of the World Assembly Stranger's Bar.
The Interstellar Cartographers are back! This time, they explore Methuselah.


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