The Story Thus Far…
The Elysium Concordat is a young 18-system star state deep in the Delta Quadrant that, to this point, has made some very, very bad decisions. It started with the election of Keeper Markus Jade. The Keeper of the Concordat was the person on whom the men, women, and xenos of the Concordat pinned all their hopes.
Instead, Jade led the Concordat to war. Spying an easy mark in their smaller neighbor, the Free State of Borealis, Jade demanded access to a highly-intact alien ruin that had recently been discovered on the Borealis world of Pavonis. The Borealians were reluctant, but they agreed given the superior numbers that the Elysium fleets could threaten. That wasn’t enough; the Elysians became increasingly bellicose, as Jade rattled the saber ever and ever more and demanded more and more concessions.
Spying an opportunity, the Borealian Collectivist party made a secret deal with a group of privateers, intended to weaken the Elysian war machine by targeting the colony world of Mungus and drawing Concordat attention away from their machinations around Pavonis. At the right time, the ambitious leader of the Communists hoped to reveal their involvement for political gain.
Unfortunately for the Borealians, the scheme was uncovered, and the Elysians angrily retaliated by blockading and then invading Pavonis. Borealis, stunned by the sudden hostility, was furious with the Communist party… and reacted accordingly. Meanwhile, their legitimate government called on Tezekian allies in hopes of negotiating a end to the hostilities. They succeeded in forcing an Elysian withdrawal, but not through diplomacy; a Theomilitarist fleet opened fire on the invasion force as the Elysians tried to seize cargo from them.
With the Concordat’s forces distracted by the debacle in Pavonis, forces previously unknown to the Concordat appeared without warning, striking and crippling the world of Starward in a brutal alpha strike and then releasing bioweapons on Topez and Dathaway. More newcomers appeared, striking at and then invading Mundus and strafing the Elysian task forces deployed to Pavonis. The Pikasistani and Olimpiadan strikes rattle the Elysians to the core. Outcry against Keeper Jade became an uproar.
That wasn’t enough, though. Jade refused to yield an inch, insisting that his plan was still sound despite the “setbacks”… and the other shoe dropped. Forces from the Stepford-Arnau Trade and Military Alliance (SATMA), of which Tezekia was a member, arrived in Aurelis (which they call Aurelia), a Borealian colony. Forces from Peninsular, operating under SATMA aegis, strike at the coreward colonies, raiding commerce and disrupting trade while exchanging fire with overmatched Elysian escort ships hastily redeployed to meet the threat. Dire warnings cross space, threatening the Elysians with destruction if they refuse to see reason.
Finally, with the stars burning around them, the Elysians called a retreat, pulling their blockading force out of Pavonis and running with their tails between their legs, under fire from the Theomilitary for the duration.
At an emergency meeting of the Concordat Council, the Councilor from Mundus, now occupied by Pikasistani forces, calls for a change of government, and in what amounts to a coup, Keeper Jade is removed from office and forced to resign in disgrace, frog-marched out of the government complex by Concordat Marines…
In the chaos, the Councilor from Pegasus, Patricia Delvin, ascends to the Keepership; a historical event for the Concordat overshadowed by their looming annihilation. It’s up to her and her nascent government to turn the tides that threatened to sweep away her entire nation...
Concordat Central Sector FleetCom, Geolia, Elysian Concordat, Delta Quadrant
The Central Sector FleetCom was the largest command section in the Concordat’s military, given most of their highly-populated planets were located therein. Several hundreds of warships floated in formation above the two habitable worlds in Geolia. For all the seeming strength of the mighty armadas, the atmosphere throughout the system was tense. Casualties, or what was left of them, had been flowing into Geolia’s large staryards for more than a week, what few survivors remained of engagements with the Pikasistani, Olimpiadans, and Peninsularians.
“... the turret mounted guns were nearly useless against the enemy,” reported an analyst in the Fleet Conference Room, midway through his presentation. “Our fire directors reported hits, but we couldn’t penetrate their defenses. The spinal guns,” he notes, changing the slide, “had more luck.” The image was a large hole in an Olimpiadan warship. “My department believes that torpedoes could be effective as well… if we can deliver them. Unfortunately, enemy point defense appears to be quite sophisticated, as are their maneuvering thrusters, and the only recorded torp hits were from knife-fight range at Mundus and against a few of the convey raiders on their first incursion.” The image changes again, to another damaged enemy ship; Pikasistani, this time, with a significant portion of its drive systems blown off; the effect of a not-quite-evaded Concordat fusion torpedo salvo. A second image appears in quick succession; the wreckage of a Peninsularian Hornet that had caught torpedoes in a close maneuver during a convoy raid. “Our analysis is that this was partially due to unfamiliarity with our weapons systems; we think that it will be tough to get forces into range to get hits like this going forward.”
“Colonel? What is the assessment of your office; what do we have to do to kill these sumbitches reliably?”
“It won’t be easy. We’re going to have to totally overhaul our doctrine if we want to have any shot at surviving this. We can’t assume our escorts’ turret guns are going to do any real damage to the enemy; they’ll have to rely on torps, which is a good way to get them shot to pieces” The presenter takes a moment to adjust his presentation control, and it jumps ahead. “This is a mock-up of the Neos-class Destroyer, proposed by my office. It’d be a hell of a crash program…” He gets ready to elaborate in detail.
“Give us the short version, Colonel, we’re on a time crunch.”
“Sir. The Neos has a 178mm bore spinal gun that we think can pierce their armor in of place some of the 76mm turrets on our other escorts, and the remaining turrets are 127mm mounts from the Cuirass-class cruiser; those had slightly more luck than the 76’s. It loses two torpedoes tubes each side relative to the Alpha-class, but we think it can be built from the Alpha hulls we have half-complete in-system and have a better shot of being able to engage the enemy successfully from real distance.”
“How long until you can have a prototype ready?”
“Weeks at the absolute earliest, Admiral. My apologies, but even that timeframe involves at least one miracle. Maybe more.”
“I see. Thank you Colonel, I appreciate your bringing us up to date. We’ll be in touch; let us know if the Special Engineering office comes up with anything else.”
The presenter salutes, and marches out of the room.
There’s a pause.
“Alright, gentleman, next item on the agenda. As you know, roughly concurrently to the attack on Mungus, a fleet from a nation called Houseidou arrived here.” Another pause. “I find the timing as suspicious as you do, but as far as we can tell, their story checks out. In exchange for resupply and refit, they’ve agreed to help us in repelling these invaders, for the duration of the conflict. Their ships, so far as our technicians can tell, are at least as capable as those used by the invaders, so this is a major coup for us; this force can meet them on equal terms. Vice-Admiral Kasai, the acting commander of that force, will be joining us momentarily to discuss that status of the repairs and how we can best put his force to work. Some, I assume, we will want to deploy… but their ships are the equal of the enemy’s. If we can understand their technology, our next generation of warships may be strong enough to fight these new foes on equal terms.”
Another pause, and the others around the table acknowledge the Admiral’s direction. “Alright, here we go.” He presses a communication control. “Sergeant, please admit Vice-Admiral Kasai to the situation room. We’re ready for him.”
The guards opened the doors, and tried not to stare at the 4-meter-tall samurai-esque robots composing this new ally’s guard, and indicated for the guest to arrive. Calmly strolling in, the staff of the Grand Admiral was able to see the man that might help them back from the brink. Huge, muscular, and with a scarred visage, he had short ears extending from a bald head, one eye shut from a large scrape down one side of his face, and pronounced canines as he tried his best to smile as he extended out a meaty hand."Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice." His voice was a growl, but was clearly trying to use a tone it was not used to: pleased and amicable. "I am Vice-Admiral Hoshoku Kasai, commander of the Divine Sovereignty Celestial Navy's 11th Fleet, and acting commander of the Divine Sovereignty's 1st Combined Expeditionary Force.” He addressed the rest of this nation’s command staff. “We have traveled for quite a long time, across part of the Beta Quadrant before being sent through a wormhole to another galaxy altogether, where we spent most of a Stem, sorry, two Terran years, embroiled in a massive civil war for the fate of a huge empire before returning to the Milky Way Galaxy, though we are unsure where in the Milky Way we ended up. Now, we have arrived on your doorstep, and we would be grateful for repairs to our damaged ships and the shore leave for our crews and passengers.” Kasai found a chair nearby, pulled it out, and placed himself in it before tilting it up so the metallic grav-boots that were standard issue for his uniform clanged against the table as they settled in. “What are your terms?"
The Grand Admiral nods. “Our people are under attack,” he says, carefully. “Forces previously unknown to us have launched an invasion of our space; one planet has already fallen. Our fleet is mobilized now, but there is a significant technological disparity, and not in our favor.” He pauses a moment. “Your ships don’t appear to have that problem. If you’ll help us in this conflict, we’ll do everything in our power to get your fleet home at the end of it.” The Admiral presses on, clarifying what he had in mind, “Specifically, I have three tasks in mind for you. First, I’d like to build an elite quick reaction force around most of your fleet. We can attach some of our own vessels to bolster your ship count if you think it wise, but we need someone who can move quickly and match these invaders’ capabilities and, perhaps, understand better their dispositions, if you’ve encountered any of them before on your journey. Second, if they have the capability, I’d like to detach several of your smaller vessels to act as FTL communications posts. Not all of our systems have ansibles, nor will any of our fleets that deploy outside of those systems. Coordination will be far easier if they have ansibles with their formations rather than relying on couriers. Third, I’d like some of your technical officers and engineers to join our weapons development teams at the Special Engineering office here in Geolia. Engagements thus far have not gone in our favor, and we need to make sure the next generation of warships we build don’t suffer from the same deficiencies.” There’s finally a pause. “Are those terms acceptable to you and your fleet?”
The huge man sighed, and glanced to this Grand Admiral before him. “Sadly, that second point isn’t going to happen.” Kasai bluntly answered. “Our ansibles are only able to fit on capital ships, and they were all damaged in our escape. This is one of the main reasons why we got lost and can’t simply call home. While we have jury-rigged a crude fascimile of the old network with our ships, it isn’t as robust as it used to be, and it only works with our ansibles. And frankly, I don’t feel like splitting up my forces too much. I promised to get them home, and we have managed to endure and persevere as much as we have by sticking together.” He then grinded his molars a bit as he pondered a better solution. “However, we can give you access to the technical specs so you can make your own, as well as some other pieces of our technology. I figure having real-time communications across parsecs will help you guys immensely. And the reinforcements would be greatly appreciated.”
The Admiral nods. “We’ll keep your entire force together, then. Technical specs and other technology samples will be sufficient. More than just sufficient, I hope. As for the reinforcements…” There’s’ a pause as a few of the officers confer. “The 53rd and 62nd Cruiser Divisions, and the 108th Destroyer Squadron. That’s 30 warships; 12 cruisers, 18 destroyers. I’ll have our engineers forward you the technical specifications and simulation files, so you know what they’re capable of.”
Concordat Southern Sector FleetCom, Asgard, Elysian Concordat, Delta Quadrant
Admiral Suthers, the appropriately named commander of the Concordat’s Southern Section defenses, listened, concealing his displeasure with the news. He sat back at his desk, his uniform impeccable. The man before him was shorter, more rumpled, and had merchant marine green rather than navy blue on his uniform coat. He was the fleet captain in charge of the escort forces hastily deployed to protect against the SATMA raiders that had been wreaking havoc inside the Concordat’s southernmost territories. His nameplate read “O’Neil”.
“My Dees are getting chewed to pieces by the invaders, sir. We’re stiffening the convoys with the cruisers from the 12th and 41st divisions now, but there aren’t enough of them. If this goes on for long, there won’t be a functional Dee left in the Concordat. I need more cruisers.”
“I’m sorry Captain, but we can’t spare you any more cruisers. You’ll just have to work with what you’ve got.”
“Admiral, what I’ve got isn’t enough. That projection isn’t hyperbolic, it’s where we’re heading unless..”
“We’re all spread thin here Captain. Make it work,” says Suthers, more sharply than he intends. The stress was getting to everyone. There’s a pause. Captain O’Neil wavers, and then begs.
“Sir, the crews are terrified to leave port. We can’t fight them with guns; ours just deflect off their armor, and theirs… they’re so fast, we only have seconds of warning, if that. We can kill them with torps, but after we got a few of them that way, they haven’t let us get close enough for good shots, and Dees don’t have enough tubes for a good volley over distance, even in groups. The last convoy they hit had no survivors at all… sir, please….”
There’s a moment of tension. The Captain’s actions were bordering on insubordinate. But...
“... alright, Captain. I’m detaching...” The Admiral pauses for an uncomfortable moment to review his lists, “... the 45th and 47th Cruiser Divisions, plus the 4th and 106th Destroyer Squadrons for good measure. That’s already more than I can spare, so make them count.”
The Captain blinks, and then hastily salutes, realizing he’s been both dismissed and given exactly what he had been hoping for. “Yes, sir! I won’t let you down!” He turns to go.
“Captain?” the Admiral adds. The captain stops halfway out the door, and turns. “I need something from you in exchange. If the enemy strikes in our section, system defense is our first priority. We’ll have to deploy everything we’ve got… the ships I’m loaning you, and your escorts too. I know I can count on you.”
The captain hesitates. His destroyer escorts weren’t much use for system defense, not against these invaders, but… “I won’t let you down,” he repeats, with a nod, before he leaves. The door closes behind him. Suthers rubs his temple; things weren’t getting easier...
Concordat Southern Sector Trade Lanes, Elysian Concordat Space, Delta Quadrant
When the Peninsularians sprung their trap this time, there was no convoy waiting for them at the interdiction point. Instead, a lone courier, about 100m in length with no obvious armament, floats in the space the convoy was expected to transit, and broadcasts a transmission to the Peninsularian Hornets when the light from their arrival reaches it.
“Good afternoon. This is the designated Elysian Concordat Diplomatic Courier Strife’s End. We have been dispatched on behalf of the Concordat government to seek terms for a ceasefire between the Concordat and the Free State of Borealis and their allies from the Stepford-Arnau Trade and Military Alliance. If you are willing to negotiate, please specify in what way you wish to proceed, given our previous meeting at Mungus was interrupted. Otherwise, we request that our vessel be allowed to depart in peace. End transmission.”
Mungus, Northern Sector, Elysian Concordat Space, Delta Quadrant
The courier vessel exits jumpspace at several light-minutes beyond the edge of the system, to minimize the risk of immediately encountering an ambush from the hostile military forces located here. After a brief consultation of incoming light from the planet itself, they send out a transmission much like those received by the Peninsularians. Concerningly, the vast fleets that had been involved in seizing Mungus had mostly departed; while it wasn’t their mission, if they left the system alive that would have to be noted.
“Good evening. This is the designated Elysian Concordat Diplomatic Courier Peace Dividend. We have been dispatched on behalf of the Concordat government to seek terms for a ceasefire and a peaceful resolution of the conflict between your nations and our own. Located on the surface of Mungus is a conference center, which our sensors indicate has survived your bombardment. If you are amenable to conversation, we propose that our representatives meet yours at that location. If not, we request that our vessel be allowed to depart in peace. End transmission.”
In the camp deep in the swamps of Mungus, Captain Elliot Roland curses. “Lieutenant, spread the word,” he sighs. “We’re postponing tonight’s operation.” The Lt. salutes and marches out of the operations center.
When Mungus fell, the attack had been sudden. The few Concordat soldiers on the surface hadn’t been ready or able to conduct any sort of real defense… and those who tried were blown away. Their only success had come from withdrawing into the uncomfortable swamps and striking from concealment, hitting at convoys and enemy soldiers who wandered too far from their friends. It had been… disheartening. They had planned a raid against an invader facility tonight, but if peace terms were being discussed… perhaps best to hold off. For now.
